Work Text:
Looking back, Vander had no idea what he was going to do with them.
The little one was fast asleep when they got to the quiet bar. Little one. He scoffed at the thought. They were both little. Just kids forced to face the reality of war far too young.
The older one had a weak grip on his shirt. She was fighting sleep against his shoulder, he could tell. He descended the stairs into the little hole he called home. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. It would protect the girls, he hoped.
His ‘bedroom’ was through a small corridor and behind a curtain, where a simple bed, just big enough for a man of Vander’s size to sleep in, however uncomfortably. He would have to figure something out for the girls soon.
He laid the younger one down on the bed. The older one was more awake now, crawling out of his arms and over to who he could only assume was her sister.
Now that he could see them in better lighting, it was obvious how rough they had had it. He couldn’t pinpoint their exact ages, but the younger one couldn’t have been older than six, and the older was probably ten or eleven.
She looked up at him with watering gray eyes.
“Please don’t hurt us,” her voice squeaked. Vander’s heart shattered.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said softly. “What’s your name, little one?” he asked. She looked hesitant.
“...Vi. Violet,” she finally said after a long pause. She looked down at the girl in her arms. “A-and this is my sister, Powder.” Vi hugged Powder closer.
He took a deep breath. He looked her in the eye. She was so scared, years of trauma and pain and suffering behind her glassy stare. “You and your sister are safe with me, Vi.”
She trembled. Powder was waking up now, clinging to her sister. She whimpered.
“Vi?” Her voice was tiny, scared and small in the dark room. Vi tightened her grip.
“I’m here, ‘m here,” she said, rocking her.
Vander watched the scene, unsure if he should be endeared or heartbroken. Clearly, this was a little girl who grew up too fast for her family. They were both small, so small, too tiny for this horrible world.
The Undercity was dangerous. Too dangerous for little kids like Vi and Powder. They needed love, care, and a home. And the Undercity wasn’t known for providing that. He looked at their clothes. They both had messy, choppy haircuts, bruises on their bodies, and scars on their faces. Covered in dirt for so long that Vander was almost doubtful it would wash off. They didn’t look like they were from the Lanes. They were the Depths, through and through.
The Depths was no place for a child.
“Where are we?” Powder asked, looking around with wide eyes. Vi opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, faltering. She looked at Vander.
“Where are we?” she repeated.
“The Lanes. You’ll be safe here, promise.” He didn’t reach out for the child, just watched her carefully, studying her careful movements.
“I’ll protect you,” Vi whispered to Powder. “Don’t worry ‘bout a thing,” she said.
Powder hid her face in Vi’s chest. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Vi’s eyebrows furrowed.
“Why?” she asked, voice hushed.
Powder simply cried, hiccuping and afraid to speak. Vi continued to plead with her, trying to get her to lift her face and look at her. Powder didn’t comply, crying into her sister’s already dirty shirt.
“My fault,” Powder choked out. Vi’s face fell.
“No, no, no, no, it’s not your fault, Pow Pow. It is not your fault.” Vander watched as tears welled up in Vi’s eyes. She buried her face in Powder’s hair. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder, rubbing softly. Vi cried harder and he brought the two girls into a hug.
“It’s okay, girls, it’s gonna be okay,” he attempted to soothe, holding the crying girls close. “I’ll protect you.”
Powder sniffled. “Promise?” she asked. She shifted so she could look up at Vander, big blue eyes filled with tears, eyebrows scrunched and face covered in dirt and tear tracks. Vander smiled softly, cupping her face and brushing away the tears.
“I promise, sweet girl.”
Powder smiled, grasping his hand against her face with tiny fingers. Vi looked at him, a combination of exhaustion and relief on her face. A tear rolled down her face, cutting a path through the dirt. Vander suddenly got an idea.
“I’ll be right back, just stay here,” he said calmly. Vi’s brow furrowed but she didn’t protest, just watching him intently from her spot. As soon as she thought he was out of earshot though, she looked back at Powder, brushing back her hair and cooing softly. Vander smiled at the scene before finally finding what he was looking for.
He brought the rag and water back to the sisters, settling down on the bed once more. He wet the cloth with the water and lifted it to Vi’s face.
She hissed, jumping back a bit as he touched the wipe to her skin. Vander had revealed a raw spot on her cheek, the skin scraped away in an accident of some kind. He frowned, being much more gentle as he cleaned the rest of her face. She seemed to lean into the touch, eyes fluttering closed a few times.
After Vander was finished with Vi, he moved onto Powder. He found a clean spot on the rag and began to clean away the dirt and grime and tears. Powder squirmed in Vi’s arms against the cold cloth but Vi held her steady.
“There, all clean,” Vander said, pulling the cloth away. The girls already looked better. Vi brushed Powder’s hair back out of her face, and Vander finally noticed that the girls had the same eyes. They were grey-blue, swirled with the dark colors of the Depths. But they were full of so much pain, too much for their young ages.
Minutes passed, the trio sitting in silence. The girls were clearly processing, trying to fathom what they had seen. Vander kept a stablizing hand on Vi’s shoulder, and she kept her eyes trained on Powder. Eventually, Powder drifted off into an uneasy sleep in Vi’s arms.
“Do you want to put her down?” Vander asked gently. Vi shook her head. She choked on a sob.
“She’s all I have left,” she cried, voice shaking and quiet. Vander stroked her hair.
“You’ve got me now,” Vander told her, shifting and pulling her into his lap. He cradled the girls, feeling Vi turn her head and begin to cry into his arm. She barely had any tears left to cry, dehydrated and worn out from her earlier crying. It hurt Vander, to watch a girl so small grieve.
“I-I keep seeing it, them ,” she whispered. Vander felt tears spring up in his eyes. They were just children. They were just little kids. They never should have had to see that.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he soothed. He rubbed her arm. Powder made a pained noise in her sleep and Vi cried harder. Vander hugged them tighter.
It was going to be a long night.
