Chapter Text
“I don’t know who you are anymore, but…you’re not my sister.”
“Who am I then?”
“A monster.”
Cindy bit her lip as she replayed the conversation over and over again in her head. "Ziggy?" she called, softly rapping on the cabin door. “Ziggy I—”
"Go away Cindy!" came the hostile answer. That's what you're good at anyway. The unspoken message was loud and clear.
Cindy sighed heavily, her shoulders dropping in defeat.
First, Alice and Arnie had ditched their duties to clean the outhouse. Marching into Alice’s cabin to rectify the problem had resulted in witnessing something which still made her want to gouge her own eyes out. Not to mention, her brand-new polo shirt had smelled like weed.
As if that darn moss stain hadn’t been enough.
Then at the Mess Hall, Nurse Lane, knife gripped in one hand, had apologized then ominously claimed Tommy was going to die tonight, followed immediately by pouncing at her confused boyfriend.
And now.
Now her sister most certainly would forever hate her.
Could this day get any worse?
"Hey snitch!"
Goddammit!
"What are you doing creeping around campers’ cabins?” Alice teased, strolling up to her with a smiling Arnie right beside her.
"I wasn't creepin—What do you want Alice?" Cindy snapped harshly, just wishing this day would end.
"We already told you what we want." Now freshly showered, Alice ruffled her still wet hair, splattering droplets of water on Cindy's annoyed face. "We just want to know when you're going to get it."
Cindy wiped her face harshly. “I am not—” she quickly dodged when Arnie shook his wet shoulder length hair. “Stop it!”
“Huh…” Something caught Arnie’s attention. “What's going on over there…” He disappeared behind the cabin, leaving Cindy blinking. And alone with Alice.
“So...” Alice began.
"Not getting you drugs Alice!" Cindy cut in. Especially if drugs had made Nurse Lane snap and attack Tommy.
"Yeah…so I heard Nurse Lane went crazy and attacked your boyfriend. How's Tommy holding up?"
Cindy scoffed. "Why do you care?"
"I don't.” Alice shrugged carelessly.
“Then why are you asking?”
“Just wondering who's holding on to the keys to the infirmary. Now with Nurse Lane gone and all. Tommy or you?"
Cindy chuckled incredulously. "You're unbelievable."
"Okay." Alice grinned broadly. "And what else? Besides unbelievable?"
"N-Nothing!" Cindy stammered, but quickly recovered. "Whatever drugs made Nurse Lane snap, those could be very dangerous and you’re thinking of—"
"Sounds to me like if I were to take them, I'll just attack your boyfriend." Like before, Alice inched closer. Too close to her face. "Doesn't sound too dangerous to me...."
Cindy should shove her away, hard for that comment.
"I really never understood what you saw in him...."
And far away. Far far away.
“….Perfect, boring, virgin, Tommy.”
Was Alice looking at her lips?
A terrified scream shattered through her thoughts.
Cindy's blood turned cold. "Ziggy?"
Alice’s hand latched onto the doorknob and twisted. It moved, but the cabin door didn’t budge. She rammed her shoulder against the door. "It's stuck."
There was a crash and Ziggy shrieked again.
Only one conclusion formed in Cindy’s terrified mind:
Another Shadysider just snapped and was attacking her sister.
No…no…no….
"Ziggy!" With a furious grit of desperation and strength, Cindy kicked the cabin door. Once, twice, thrice. "Ziggy!"
And finally. The cabin door burst open, almost off its hinges.
Cindy stormed inside, Alice rushing in behind her. "Ziggy?!" she screamed frantically, eyes swiveling around the empty cabin, imagining the worst. “ZIGGY!!!”
"Jesus. What?"
Jogging further inside, she found a scowling Ziggy, sprawled in a growing puddle of—
Cindy let out a choked scream.
“It’s just red paint,” Alice told her, surprised and confused.
Red paint. Not blood. Paint. Not stab wounds. Just red paint.
Cindy almost collapsed on the cabin floor with sheer relief.
"What do you guys want?" A paint—not blood—covered Ziggy snapped as Alice surveyed the graffiti which decorated the cabin wall. “Did you guys break my door?”
"I—We heard you screaming," Cindy explained pathetically, wringing her hands, trying to gather back her composure. "Are you okay?"
"Never better," Ziggy said sarcastically, climbing back to her feet. “Not that you care.” She muttered under her breath, but Cindy heard her.
"What…what happened?" Cindy probed, ignoring the twinge of hurt.
"Alice’s boyfriend." Ziggy pointed an accusing finger at Arnie, pressed up against the window, reading the graffiti on the wall. On seeing Cindy and Alice, he waved before pointing at the wall.
“Oh.”
“Yeah we saw Arnie,” Alice told him dryly. “Thanks a lot.” She turned to Ziggy. “That girl Sheila did this?"
"No, Colonel Mustard."
Alice shot her an unamused glare. “You wanna try that again?”
Ziggy sobered up a bit. "Fine, yes she did this. She and her minions.”
“And all this red paint?” Alice stepped back to avoid getting her shoes wet.
"I was gonna Carrie Sheila."
Alice and Cindy both looked at her cluelessly.
“Carry her where?” Alice asked.
Ziggy laughed. “Oh my God. The Stephen King book?”
Alice rolled her eyes. "I haven’t opened any kind of book since I was twelve. Not gonna waste my life reading a five-thousand-page book from some guy who writes horror in his mother's basement. Life is already a horror show."
Ziggy looked deeply offended. “He doesn’t—There was a movie—Prom and pig’s blood. Ring any bells?"
“Oh yeah….” Alice finally recognized the reference. "So…your plan was to do what here? Dump red paint on Sheila and then wait for her to have a supernatural bitch fit which kills all of us?”
Ziggy glowered. It was obvious her revenge plan might’ve been a tad impulsive. But her sister would die rather than admit it out loud. “You know what? Forget it! I'm gonna go jump in the lake,” she announced bitterly. “Thanks a lot for scaring me to death and trying to rescue poor, helpless me.”
"Ziggy wait....” Cindy grabbed her passing sister’s elbow. “Please wait.” Maybe it was the panic-stricken expression on her face or her panic riddled voice, Ziggy actually listened.
Cindy turned to Arnie. "Arnie?
“Yeah?” He poked his head inside the cabin.
“Could you get some cleaning supplies from the storeroom for…all this," she gestured to the wall.
"And in return? Some yellow jackets?" Arnie asked expectedly. “And red birds?”
"Arnie just get her what she wants," Alice snapped at him.
“Fine…” Arnie held his hands up. “I’m going.”
"Thanks," Cindy said gratefully.
Alice shrugged, but didn’t say anything.
"You don’t have to do that," Ziggy mumbled, rubbing her arm, head bowed. “Really, it’s fine.”
"Yes, yes I do.” Cindy said. “I have to do this." Especially after—
"Ziggy is a monster."
Cindy flinched violently as she heard her own words from Alice’s lips.
"Ziggy is a Witch Bitch.”
“I’m pretty sure it should be Witch’s Bitch,” Ziggy corrected with a chuckle. “Apostrophe S was too much effort for Sheila and her dumb minions.”
Alice snorted. “Shadyside Trash, Whore, Slut," she continued reading. "Ziggy sucks co—"
"Alright!" Cindy cut off sharply, each insult a painful reminder of how she had personally failed her sister.
"Typical Sunnyvalers," Alice said, glancing her way a bit concerned. Or maybe it was Cindy's mind playing tricks again. "Not even an ounce of originality."
“Yeah.” Ziggy snorted in agreement. "The only original thing they did today is try to burn me alive." She chuckled, shaking her head, oblivious to the choked gasp and wide eyes of her sister and her ex-friend. “Like Sarah Fier should have originally. Like that would’ve stopped the witch’s curse.” She scoffed and finally noticed the expressions on their faces. “Umm….what?”
"What?” Alice let out a bewildered laugh. “How about what the actual fuck, Ziggy?"
Ziggy's head swiveled between them, baffled. “But I thought…. I thought Kurt told you?” She turned to her sister for confirmation. “He told you this and you came to see Nurse Lane."
Cindy couldn’t answer. She had died. For ten whole seconds, she felt like she had actually died.
“Cindy?” Ziggy called. “Cindy?”
“N-No.” Cindy knees buckled under the horrifying revelation. More horrifying was how Ziggy had simply dismissed it as a joke. As something normal.
And how Cindy herself had dismissed the burn mark as nothing.
"No…Not this…” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Kurt said…it was just a burn from the lighter you stole. And that Sheila got seriously hurt and traumatized because you punched her in the face—"
“Seriously hurt?” Ziggy repeated with disbelief. “Traumatized?”
“And that….” Cindy swallowed thickly. “You were going to get kicked out after one more incident.”
"No surprise Kurt told a Sunnyvaler version of the event , where Sheila is the victim." Alice shook her head at the sheer unfairness of it all. “And conveniently left out the part of trying to light you up like a fucking human effigy.”
Cindy’s heart lurched painfully.
"No not like that!” Ziggy refuted. “If Sheila did that, then both Will and Becky and the Hanging Tree would've burned along with me,” Ziggy pointed out. “Huh...that actually doesn't sound bad at all."
"Why would the Hanging Tree and those losers burn along with you?" Alice asked cautiously.
“Oh…uh…well…” Ziggy rubbed the back her neck.
Cindy’s dull gaze lingered on Ziggy’s bandaged arm, but froze when it reached the fading marks on her wrist.
"They…tied you up," she whispered, her brows furrowing. “To the Hanging Tree.”
No. That still wasn't right.
"They strung you up." A seething Alice spoke the words Cindy was too mortified to imagine. "From the Hanging Tree. And Will and Becky held down your legs so Sheila could perform some good old fashion fire torture on your arm?"
Ziggy’s mouth opened and closed, obviously not expecting an accurate assessment. "I…I managed to elbow Sheila right in the face," she proclaimed triumphantly.
"Oh good for you, Ziggy," Alice said sarcastically. “And then Sheila graffitied your cabin and you then you try to Carrie her. With paint.”
Ziggy crossed her arms. "Oh you've got a better plan, Alice? Let's hear it."
Cindy’s hand groped for something hard, solid and safe to hold on to before she collapsed.
It found Ziggy’s shoulder.
“Cindy?” Ziggy looked at her questioningly.
With trembling hands, Cindy carefully patted Ziggy anxiously, trying to reassure herself she was there. Her sister was okay. It was over.
But it wasn’t enough.
“Cindy what are you—”
Before she could convince herself of the many reasons it was a bad idea—Ziggy could kill her or shove her away or bite her, Cindy pulled Ziggy into a fierce embrace.
Ziggy stiffened in her arms, naturally too shocked by the gesture they had not shared for so long.
Cindy didn’t care and held on tight, one hand clinging to the fabric of the paint-soaked shirt and the other smoothing over tangled red hair.
She couldn't tell how many seconds or minutes passed before Ziggy finally spoke.
"You're getting paint on your polo shirt," Ziggy mumbled against her shoulder. “Not gonna come off.”
Cindy merely squeezed her tighter. “I’ll buy another one.”
Ziggy's breath hitched in surprise.
A beat of silence.
“I didn’t know…that you didn’t know…” Ziggy confessed in a small voice, face still buried in her shoulder. “I thought you knew and….”
Didn’t care. And it certainly appeared that way if Cindy looked back.
“Do you realize what happens if you get kicked out, right? How…how awful that would be for me?”
“If you get kicked out, I do too. Mom can’t work and take care of you. Then how will I pay for college?”
She didn't blame Ziggy for lashing out. After Nurse Lane, Cindy had been so preoccupied in trying to help a still freaked out Tommy, not even considering her sister could possibly be feeling the same way after watching Nurse Lane be wheeled away. After getting strung up like a witch, ready to be burn—
Cindy squeezed her eyes shut. "I should've known. God, I’m so sorry, I’m so—”
What the point of trying to be a good role model and make something of herself when she couldn’t even notice or listen to her own sister?
It was her job as a big sister to know these things. To protect Ziggy. And she failed.
No.
"You're not my sister."
Worse than failed.
Cindy's anguished spiraling thoughts came to an abrupt halt when she felt arms wrap around her.
Ziggy.
Ziggy was….hugging her?
Her sister was hugging her after—
Cindy almost burst into tears when Ziggy tightened her hold on her. To reassure her. It's okay, you didn't know. "I’m fine, really. All ten fingers and toes accounted for," she joked.
"Okay..." Cindy sniffled, her chin resting on Ziggy’s head.
"And it looks like all the cheerleading practice, finally paid off huh?"
"W-What?" Cindy croaked.
Ziggy angled her head towards the broken cabin door. "Can't imagine Alice could do that without breaking her foot—Hey!” she cried when a pillow hit her from behind.
"I loosened it for her," Alice claimed, ready to throw another pillow. "So she could save your ass."
“My ass didn’t need saving.” Ziggy stuck her tongue out.
Cindy chuckled weakly.
She understood Ziggy and Alice’s attempts to lighten the mood. And she wished she could easily get over it enough to joke about it. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t stop thinking.
There was one detail which nagged her constantly.
"Ziggy….earlier, after we left the infirmary, you said you wouldn't get kicked out. You were absolutely sure about it."
Ziggy seemed puzzled at first before understanding crossed her face. "Oh Nick Goode. He intervened. Said someone was going to ask about the burn on my arm if I get kicked out. Get them in trouble. So Kurt changed his mind.”
"Unfuckin-believable," Alice hissed.
"And I guess Kurt never mentioned that part too," Ziggy sighed warily.
"No." Cindy's eyes narrowed and darkened. Kurt hadn't mentioned Nick. Neither had Nick Goode said anything.
All she had gotten from Nick was a smile and a "Hey Tommy. Hey Cindy," as he strode into the Mess Hall and then headed for the supplies room.
Atleast Will had the decency to avoid her as he hovered outside the Mess Hall, looking extremely uncomfortable as he waited for his brother's return.
"Sunnyvale assholes," Alice echoed her sentiments. But she couldn’t come close to even reflecting the anger Cindy felt.
Not impulsive and fiery like Ziggy and Alice.
It was icy cold, bitter and unforgiving at first. Then burning, boiling, blazing, until finally, it molded itself into a plan.
"Someone still needs to clean the outhouse before Color War starts," Cindy stated, her tone devoid of emotion as she pulled back from a confused Ziggy.
Alice, who had been relaxing on one of the beds, groaned in frustration. "Jesus Cindy, can’t you just let it—"
"You can't do it."
Alice blinked at her. "I...can't?"
Cindy shook her head, tucking a loose strand of hair behind Ziggy’s ear who stared up at her slack-jawed. "Neither can Arnie."
"Wasn't planning on doing it anyway, Berman." Arnie finally returned, loaded with bucket, sponges and other cleaning supplies.
Alice crossed her arms and gave Cindy a questioning look. "And why is that, Cindy?"
"Because you two are going to be very very busy doing something else. Something...very important." Cindy locked her determined gaze with Alice. "Understand?"
Alice stared, taken a back, but then a smile slowly spread across her lips. "Perfectly."
"Good."
"But uh..." She could feel Alice's hesitation and doubts. After what had happened all those years ago between them with the stolen JVC player, it was to be expected. "Are you absolutely sure you won't just back out at the last—"
Cindy glanced at Ziggy who looked back at her warily. She glared up at the wall, at the words meant to hurt Ziggy. She clenched her fists and firmly nodded.
"A hundred and one percent fucking sure, Alice."
Cindy ignored the jaw drops. Ignored Arnie loudly dropping the bucket and Ziggy's gasped, "You swore!"
Ignored the fears that maybe she had gotten possessed. Maybe she was. Maybe that was why she was about to do something so crazy.
"I also need Joan."