Chapter Text
There were a lot of things that people who lived in the city didn’t understand about living in a small town. You never really met anyone new, everyone knew everything about everybody, and the chances of leaving were slim to none. The last one was really the worst part of it all. Sure, every now and then you’d hear about some other kid who’d get lucky and go off to the big city on some scholarship or big project, but eventually they’d get dragged right back into what Gideon liked to call ‘Misery’s Asshole’.
Drearburgh was certainly one of those kinds of small towns. It didn’t help that the whole city had been created by what was now the local religious group moving to the middle of nowhere. That added extra chains that kept you from leaving.
Gideon wasn’t really into the whole church thing, but if you didn’t go and attend church with everyone else, there wasn’t much to do. Even so, she would figure out activities to entertain herself. She would scrabble along the creek that ran along the north end of town. She’d meander through the corn fields, trying to get lost. But all in all, it wasn’t enough. She was ready to leave.
It wasn’t ideal, but the current plan was the military. That was one of the most guaranteed ways to get out of this place. Sure, you might die a horrible death for a dumb cause, but hey at least you wouldn’t be in a cornfield while you did it! (Wait, did they have corn fields in the middle east? She might need to rethink this…)
To this end, Gideon was currently working on push-ups while actively ignoring the homework that was sitting on her desk. Her room was meager at best, but she’d slapped a few posters here and there to make it feel a little less gloomy. Sure, they were whatever free posters she could snag from the dumpster behind the now-defunct video rental store, but they were better than the dull paint behind them.
Her ears caught the sound of feet shuffling towards her door, and then a couple quick sharp knocks. Gideon let out a low groan, not stopping her current bout of pushups.
“If that’s- huff- Harrow- uf- I’m busy .”
The door swung open anyways, and the aforenamed Harrow glared down at Gideon. Harrow was the only other person in town that was Gideon’s age. You’d think that would make them friends, but it was really the opposite. They were constantly compared to eachother, and they loathed eachother more than they loathed the town.
“You’ve really got some shitty listening skills, Harrow,” Gideon snipped up at Harrow, paused at the top of a pushup while she glared into the girl’s electric blue eyes.
“My ears are fine. I just don’t care,” Harrow retorted, and stepped into the room, ignoring Gideon’s groan of protest, “..will you actually stand up and talk to me like a normal person?”
“...nah.” Gideon shrugged a bit, and went back into dipping up and down. Harrow rolled her eyes and let out a sound of disgusted annoyance. Gideon ignored it. She figured that if Harrow actually cared a bit about doing some pushups herself, she wouldn’t be so fucking tiny. Then again, it worked with her overall drowned-and-starved-rat-aesthetic.
“I need you to get over yourself and actually pay attention to what I’m saying for once!” Harrow gave an impudent little stomp of her foot, and Gideon cocked a brow up at her.
“....ooookay? Well- uf— my ears work just fine -oof- while I’m doing pushups. Huf- what do you want?”
Harrow didn’t answer right away, seeming to chew the words distastefully before spitting them out, “You– you want to get out of here, right?”
That got Gideon’s attention. She stopped at the top of her pushup, and gave Harrow a questioning look. “Well… yeah? But I’ve already got a plan for that. So…”
“So nothing,” Harrow went on, starting to pace anxiously on the floor, “The military isn’t going to be any better than here and you know it. They’ve got just as many rules and they won’t tolerate your special brand of… conversation.”
“Oof,” Gideon groaned, letting herself drop to the floor. She rolled over and stared up at Harrow, seeing the girl upside-down from this position. Harrow’s electric glare bored back into her. “Hey, my brand of conversation is just fine. I can’t help that I’m very sexy. Anyways– why do you care? I’ll be gone and you won’t have to deal with me. Why are you fighting me leaving now ?”
“...I can get us both out.”
“Huh…?”
“Look, rock-for-brains, I want to get out of here just as much as you do!” Harrow snapped finally, crossing her arms. Gideon couldn’t help but listen, sensing the conversational dam had finally broken. “You and I are both at dead ends if we don’t get out of this city! Even if you go to the military, you’d be right back here after you serve, and I can’t do anything unless I manage to crawl my way out of this frigid hellhole!”
“Okaaaay,” Gideon replied cautiously, “And where do I come in?”
“...This.” Harrow thrust out a sheet of paper in Gideon’s direction. Gideon reluctantly sat up from the floor and took it, running her eyes over the page.
“...Partner Scholarship Application?” Gideon read aloud, her tone disbelieving, “How is this going to help?”
“Your reading comprehension is as abysmal as ever,” Harrow shook her head, crossing her arms tight against her chest again, “It’s an application for a full-ride scholarship. One for the school I.. I want to go to. But… it’s a partner scholarship. They only sponsor… couples who apply together.”
Realization dawned on Gideon’s face, and it took her less than a second to be utterly wheezing with laughter, back on the floor.
“You’re a dick, you know that?! Stop laughing!” Harrow hissed, kicking Gideon’s side with one of her chunky black boots, “You’re the worst! I hate you!”
“Th-that’s the best part!” Gideon gasped, still losing her mind, “Oh god, we hate eachother so much, and we have to pretend to be dating? We won’t even get in the door!! Ahahaha!!”
“We have to! It’s the only way we get out of here!” Harrow grumped back at her. The frustration was just emanating from her every pore.
“I don’t get it– aren’t there other scholarships you can apply for? Other schools?” Gideon grinned, and wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes.
“I have.” Harrow replied in a clipped tone, “Trust me. I wouldn’t have even attempted this if there were any other options. Or any other scholarships.I– They didn’t work, alright? It didn’t work. And I need this to work.”
“Oh, just please say it,” Gideon mockingly held her hands together above her heart, quoting in a singsong, “ ‘oh help me, Giddy-wan Kenobi– You’re my only hope!’ ”
This, of course, just earned Gideon a boot to her gut. It did nothing to stem her continuing laughter, though.
“Gideon… I knew you’d make this miserable,” Harrow groaned, pinching the brow of her nose, “...Gideon. I… I can’t do this without your help. Please …”
Gideon’s laughter trailed off as she looked up at Harrow’s face, unable to hide the bit of surprise in her own. Please? Had Harrow just actually said… Please to her?! It was such an unexpected move that she sat up, sobering a bit.
“Damn. You really want to go to that place this bad?”
“...Yes,” Harrow replied, looking askance, unable to meet Gideon’s gaze, “...You know I wouldn’t ask you otherwise.”
There was a moment of silence between them as Harrow watched Gideon, waiting for a response. Her thin face was taut with stress and anxiety, and Gideon saw a glint of desperation in Harrow’s eyes. It wasn’t really something she’d seen there before. The dynamic between the two of them had always been so fraught, but this felt… different. Whether it was good different or bad different, though, was yet to be determined.
“Well… ok,” Gideon finally relented. Harrow looked up in shock; she obviously hadn’t anticipated Gideon actually agreeing. “I just have one condition.”
“Oh…?”
“If anyone asks, I’m the one on top.”
The sound of Harrow’s hand hitting Gideon’s face echoed down the entire length of the town.
The next week sluggishly loped by as Gideon now found herself repeatedly hounded by the last person she had hoped. There was plenty of paperwork to fill out, but what was really slowing her down was the cover letter. Harrow had refused to write it for her– she’d determined that the writing would sound too similar, and that could disqualify them. So that left Gideon staring at a piece of paper that looked just as blank as her mind felt. There were two questions. “Why do you want to attend Firsthaus University?” and “Why is it important to stay with your significant other?”.
The questions hounded her in the back of her mind while she sat in each evening church service. She went through the motions of the prayers, but as she was wont to do, only mouthed the words while her mind wandered freely.
The first question was a little easier to answer. Honestly, she could answer that one without a single lie. She wanted to get out of her tiny little town, no matter what that took. She wanted to experience life. She wanted to get the chance to leave this little bubble.
The second question was where it got difficult, because the truth was, she couldn’t think of a single reason why she’d want to stay with Harrow. The fact that Harrow had been reasonable long enough to ask her to do this in the first place was a miracle in and of itself. The two of them had hated eachother for their entire lives. Gideon had hundreds of memories of Harrow’s narrow face twisted in annoyance or disgust at her presence. Plenty of times where Harrow had gone out of her way to cause Gideon trouble. But no instance of Harrow being nice.
Eventually Gideon tried to ask Harrow for ideas (Especially since she was nagging her so much about finishing it) but she just offered a less-than-helpful, “Just lie.”
Eventually it culminated on the evening before the application was due. Gideon sat at the church library’s aging beige computer. Her eyes lingered on the blinking cursor, feeling something akin to physical pain as she tried to come up with something .
Then suddenly, an epiphany struck. Why was she so focused on Harrow? Why not just write about why she would want to stay with a fancifully wonderful dream-girlfriend? The most perfect girlfriend she could think of? It’s not like people would know she didn’t mean Harrow!
And so finally, the words flowed on the page. She tapped out the required responses, and tugged the thumbdrive out of the computer. She hurried next door.
“If you’re just here to beg for ideas again, I told you, I can’t do it!” Harrow snipped at her through the window, where she’d apparently been watching. Gideon gave a crooked grin, waving the flashdrive.
“Oh, no, that’s soooo three-hours-ago. Nope! It’s done!”
“Oh?” Harrow raised a brow, then disappeared from view. She reappeared a moment later as she opened the door to admit Gideon. “It’s about time. Come on– I need to check it for mistakes before we send it off.”
Harrow turned and led Gideon upstairs. Gideon found herself oddly excited– while she’d been in this house several times before, she’d never gotten to see Harrow’s room. While Gideon lived in the most basic barracks-style room the Sisters of Nine could provide, Harrow had an entire house to herself. Her parents, who had passed in an incident Gideon didn’t want to recall, had been particularly important to the religious community, and so Harrow had been promoted in their absence.
However, whatever she’d expected from Harrow’s room, she was somewhat disappointed when she saw it. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and there was a simple bed with one or two threadbare blankets. The desk was only of marginally higher quality than Gideon’s, and held a battered laptop atop it.
Harrow went to the laptop, and stuck the flashdrive into it like she was stabbing a loathsome pest. Gideon leaned back against the closest bookcase while Harrow worked on pulling up the file.
Harrow eventually got the file opened, and silently started to read. Gideon had expected a few quips and insults about her lack of writing skills, but instead just watched as Harrow’s eyes silently darted back and forth. She could have sworn that Harrow’s cheeks were getting redder, but it was hard to tell under the extensive goth makeup the girl wore.
Eventually Harrow swallowed, and in an unexpectedly strained tone said, “Well… I suppose it will do. But… I’m gonna take out where you say that part of why you want me around is… ahem … my… ‘huge tits’.”
“Oh right,” Gideon slapped the heel of her hand to her forehead, “You’re only like an a-cup, huh. That wouldn’t make much sense.”
The strangled sound that came out of Harrow’s throat was like something an opossum would make if it were drowning in a storm drain.
“Ok, well, I’ll let you fix it how you want. You’re gonna be the one emailing it over.” Gideon shrugged and straightened away from the bookcase, “...You alright?”
“...Gideon… I hate you. I hate you so much.”
“Good to know nothing’s changed. Bye!”
The next couple weeks were torture. The waiting had put Harrow in a particularly bad mood, and Gideon was the one bearing the brunt of it. She wondered how much worse it would get once Harrow got a reply. Gideon honestly just assumed that it would be a rejection, since there was no way anyone would believe that the two of them were dating. Then she’d deal with everything for a couple of months until she could get in contact with an army recruiter. And she’d be gone from here and wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore…
Then an envelope arrived. The envelope was printed with the crest of Firsthaus University, and addressed to “Ms. Gideon Nav”. It was thicker than she’d expected it to be, and she took a moment to just stare at it in anticipation. Finally, she slipped her thumb under the flap, and ripped it open. She tugged out the contents, and read the first couple of lines.
Ms. Gideon Nav-
We are delighted to inform you that you and your partner have been selected as the recipients of our full-ride partner’s scholarship! This envelope contains more information on…
Gideon couldn’t even bring herself to read any further, feeling like she’d just been hit by a car.
It had actually worked?!
It was at that moment that her door burst open, and a manic-looking Harrow rushed inside, her hand clutching her own copy of the letter.
“You saw?! Good.” Harrow got out in a rush, “We did it. I don’t know how, but we actually pulled this off. Now… Now we just have to see it through.”
“Oh…. oh goodie,” Gideon grimaced. She didn’t like the feral energy she saw behind Harrow’s eyes. Harrow obviously had some kind of plan, and Gideon had a feeling that she was going to regret doing this at all by the end of it…