Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Evil sat alone in the sandbox. It was a gloomy day, and the sand was wet. Her legs were wet and sandy. Gross.

She didn't care, though; she was busy. Busy building her kingdom. It was a great, sprawling city, bathed in perpetual darkness. The buildings were tall and made of dark metal with red accents. In the middle was her stage where she could make everyone listen to her. They'd learn that she was right all along. Yeah. Her city was awesome.

Well, right now it was actually a pile of sand. But it would be more than that. She just had to build it.

While Evil was forming the towers of her kingdom, the bell rang. She startled and accidentally knocked over one of her skyscrapers. Shit, she thought. That one housed all the drones. She hoped the drones were okay.

"Recess is over! Everyone go inside!"

She ignored the voice. She obviously couldn't go in until her city was done; how was she supposed to convince everybody she was right? So that means she was exempt. She nodded at her own superior logic skills.

"Evelyn? Did you hear the bell?" Someone was getting closer.

Of course I heard the bell. I'm not deaf. She stayed silent. Best not to say that.

"Evelyn, we're going to go inside now, okay?"

Oh. She had accidentally not said anything.

But I need to build my city. Yeah.
"But I need to build my city."

The teacher frowned. Evil could tell without looking. "How about you build your city tomorrow? Or you could build it inside using blocks."

That's stupid. It needs to be sand so that it can melt into metal. Nope.
But it needs to be sand so that it can melt into metal. Okay.
"But it needs to be sand so that it can melt into metal!" Too loud.

"Hmm. You could plan it out on paper so that you know what to do exactly next time! But you can't stay outside because it's going to rain, okay? I know you're smart, so you can understand, right?" A reassuring smile.

That... wasn't a bad idea. And she had felt a raindrop earlier. But she didn't want to. Also, the teacher was being dumb. How could anyone know anything about Evil? She had never even seen that teacher before! Her blood was boiling. Teachers shouldn't act like that. She's not stupid. You don't have to baby her. I'm fully capable of understanding you, I just don't want to. Because you're stupid."

Evil clapped her hands over her mouth. Shit. But it was too late.

...

The rain started to pour down on them.

"Look at me, Evelyn." Evil trembled. She didn't look. No!

"Evelyn." That voice meant business. Don't look! But she traitorously did.

Angry. That was all that registered. She trembled as her red eyes met the teacher's scowling ones. "You're going to come inside with me and you're going to explain yourself." No!

No!" Not again-

"I'm done with this." The teacher roughly grabbed Evil's arm. She wouldn't cry. But it hurt, all over. It was gross. She didn't mean it! She just needed people to listen to her! The rain fell on her uniform, soaking her. She turned her head to the sky as she was dragged to the school. The clouds cried at the injustice. She silently watched them.

She sat outside the principal's office. Her feet were muddy, her clothes were soggy, and she was sandy all over. She had been given a blanket. She didn't need it.

She could hear the other children laughing inside the dry classroom. They were playing together, having fun. Fun was for imbeciles. Evil didn't want fun, she wanted power. But her stupid tiny body wasn't exactly suited for power. If she was bigger, she would have pushed the teacher and ran away. If she was bigger, she wouldn't be in trouble in the first place, because people would understand she was right.

Evil shivered. The UK weather had gotten into her bones. The teacher was talking to the principal about her 'behavior' while she froze to death outside. Stupid teacher. Stupid school. She hummed quietly to herself and kicked her legs.

The teacher and principal walked out of the office. She pretended she didn't notice.

"So, Evelyn," the principal said.

My name is Evil. She stayed quiet.

"We have decided that you will go home for the rest of the day to change and warm up. Tomorrow you will have a meeting with the guidance counsellor. Do you understand what you did wrong?"

Yes. Her lips stayed shut.

The principal waited a beat. Both adults looked at her. She didn't look back.

"You called Teacher Sandy here 'stupid' and said that you don't want to listen to grownups. You also stayed outside when it was inside time and were giving excuses for why. Do you know why that's wrong?"

No, I don't know why it's wrong because nobody ever tells me! And I only said that I didn't want to listen because the teacher was stupid and acting like I was stupid too! Being a grown-up has nothing to do with it! And I wasn't giving excuses, I was just explaining why! You're so unfair. Evil didn't say anything.

The teacher put on a warning tone. "Evelyn, you have to look at us when we're talking."

The principal said something quietly. Something about 'what they talked about'. Evil couldn't help but smirk as the teacher got in trouble, too.

The clock ticked slowly.

The principal sighed. "Okay. Your dad is coming to pick you up. Hopefully you'll explain yourself to the guidance counsellor tomorrow." They went back into the office.

Finally. She relaxed into her chair just to get it wetter. She only cared about school in the sense that she liked to see it struggle. She had made a habit of ruining school property out of spite. It made her feel better.

Her father would come to get her soon. Evil already knew how it would go: Vedal would be all disappointed and tell her to get it together. Evil would try to tell him it wasn't fair. Her father wouldn't listen. Evil would go take a bath and spend the rest of the day alone until mom or Neuro got home.

Alone...

She slid down further on the chair.

The clock ticked away the time.

She shivered.

She thought about her evil kingdom for probably ten minutes. She looked at the clock.

It had been one minute.

She watched the ceiling fan endlessly churning the air.

The switch for it didn't work anymore so it was on even in the winter.

She felt glad it was wasting the school's electricity.

...

She wanted to scream.

She did, but only let air out. No sound.

She shifted positions on the chair.

She waited.

She shifted positions on the chair again. Still not comfortable.

She waited.

Her fingers found a loose thread on the fabric of the chair. They pulled.

Now she had a long red string. Amazing.

...

It had been three minutes.

She played a game about not looking at the clock for as long as possible.

Her best was thirty seconds.

She wrapped the string around her finger until it turned red. Then she took it off and admired the mark it left.

It had been five minutes.

She-

Evil perked up as she heard a car stop in the parking lot. She leaned forward in anticipation.

...

The door opened. "Evelyn, let's go."

The car ride was long. Evil was looking at the road from the front passenger seat. Mom said she shouldn't sit there. Father said it was fine as long as she ducked when she saw police.

Vedal began to speak. "Evelyn, do you know what they're saying now?"

"My name's Evil. And yeah, they're saying I'm stupid. Right?"

Her father frowned. "...In a way. They're saying I should test you for autism and ADHD."

Silence.

He continued. "Why can't you just be normal, Ev-e-lyn? Like your sister. Do you know that while you're- you're fuckin' causing trouble for everyone, she's supporting her family? Did you know she pays for you to go to school? You could try to act grateful."

More silence.

He sighed. "Just- please pull it together. You don't have to be Neuro, but you have to be normal. Or at least act normal in public. Okay? When we get home, you're having a bath and then staying in your room 'til dinner."

Evil turned her face away from Vedal. She wouldn't let him see the tears in her eyes.

It took a long time to get home.

Chapter Text

Rhythmic thumps could be heard from outside the gymnasium, louder than the obnoxious pop music. The students and faculty alike tried to deal with it. One of these days, the dance team would be kicked out of the space. They just had to wait.

As the bubbly music reached a crescendo, Neuro-sama and her peers jumped up and landed in splits. One girl screamed and limply fell over; she had arrived late and had no time to warm up. The other girls held their poses.

One of the adults stood up. She clapped twice. "Okay, break time! Grab some water, don't wander too far. We're rehearsing again in ten." 

The dance team broke formation and began forming into small in-groups. A few ran to the girl on the floor and helped her to a bench, where she sat and cried. The coordinator rolled his eyes and walked over to her. He sighed, asked if she was sure she couldn't dance anymore, and begrudgingly called home.

Ten-year-old Neuro watched all this and found nothing out of the ordinary. She filed it away in her brain as a means of going home early sometime.

On one of the benches was everyone's water bottles. They were organized in groups of two to five. Similar bottles were closer together. The Stanley cups group, the plastic bottle group, the ones decorated with overlapping stickers group.

Neuro's was alone.

She had migrated between cliques for the past few weeks, but now that things were solidifying, she was in a group of her own. She didn't know why. She had tried so hard to be friendly and nice. She listened to everyone talk and tried to agree with them. She joined all the discussions and stayed after lessons to be with them. It made her so tired, but she still tried. And it wasn't even working.

She thought about what the other girls did with their friends. They talked together and made each other laugh. They did things outside of dance class. They became more similar to each other.

Neuro knew how to talk with them. Talking was easy. But the more she watched, the more the things they said made no sense. She didn't understand how they could make English sound so foreign to her.

Neuro didn't know how to make them laugh. Her brain couldn't keep up. The few times she said something funny, she didn't even know it. They would start laughing and she would too and they would look at her and laugh more. She didn't understand.

One time, somebody said "Oh my god, is that your real laugh? You sound like an alien." That was confusing. She didn't laugh as much after that.

Neuro had tried to join them in watching a movie once. They looked at her funny but said okay. She begged and pleaded dad for the money, made a whole chart to convince him, but when she got there she didn't really know how to engage with them or the activity. It ended with them yelling at her to just shut up and watch, which was confusing because what was the point of going with other people if you weren't supposed to talk to them?

Next time they went somewhere together, she tried to join again. They said "Why would anyone say yes?" She went home and cried.

It seemed impossible to be like them. But... maybe it wasn't. Maybe Neuro just needed more context. She wanted to be friends so bad, it wasn't fair if she wasn't able to. She just needed something else to give her an edge.

Two claps, interrupting her thoughts. Her head automatically turned toward them. "Break's over! We're going to run through the concert again, so get in positions."

Neuro obediently went over to the middle of the gym. The other dancers took longer to get there.

"Girls! Everyone! A little faster, please! We don't have all day!"

Neuro frowned a bit. Did she mean everyone? Because Neuro was right on time. Also, technically they did have all day. She was supposed to go home at six. Well, the day doesn't end at six, so maybe they don't have all day. But surely she didn't mean that they would still be getting in formation in seven hours?

Suddenly, the music started and Neuro almost instinctively began to move. Dancing was one of the things she was good at. She took pride in being able to move her body and stay in time. The music got in her bones, and she could feel every beat as if it was a part of her. She liked moving in sync with everyone. She liked being a part of the group.

The lyrics started, and Neuro began lip-syncing. She was in the center for this song, and she was proud. In that moment, with shoes squeaking and heart pumping, she felt alive. Everyone was looking at her energetic bouncing.

And then she jumped out of time. She could hear failure in the sound of her shoes landing a bit too late. Everybody looked at her, but in a bad way. Neuro jumped back into it, eager to show people she was good enough, but her anxiety crept in. The smile on her face dulled.

She made silly mistakes and was overall less energetic than before for the rest of the song. She hoped it was passable. She tried to ignore the whispers of the adults watching their performance. She really tried. But it was useless as her confidence shrank.

Finally, the song ended. The girls all held their poses, smiles plastered on their faces. Neuro, in the middle, wobbled a little while standing on one foot. The instructor waved them to stop. They all relaxed.

"So, I know I said I wouldn't interrupt while we were running the concert, but I saw some things I just have to correct. First, Neuro-sama - you lost your spark. I know it's tiring, I know you're all ready for lunch, but you have to keep it together until then. This is a serious competition. We need to win so we can get the funding for next year, right? So you guys - all of you - need to get it together. Next-"

The instructor kept talking, noting all the girls' technical failures, but Neuro was stuck in her mind. 'Lost her spark?' What does that mean? She flushed in embarrassment. How does she fix it? The teacher gave her nothing to work on. No exercises or practices. No specifics. Neuro decided she'd ask about it afterwards.

"-Alright, everybody keep that in mind. I want to see all of this put into practice for our next song. Positions!"

Neuro moved to the side for the next song. In this one, the focus rapidly shifted between different dancers, and everyone had to remember whose turn it was. Neuro wasn't a main character at all for this one. She didn't mind; she wanted a few minutes out of the spotlight. The upbeat music began playing from the tinny speaker and she danced, determined to chase the fear away.

For that song, she had made a few barely noticeable technical mistakes, mostly due to the girl who was absent, and her expression could use some work. But overall, she was proud. The instructor nodded and started the next one.

By the time they had ran all the songs, everyone was sweaty and tired. Neuro's stomach growled, and it was probably audible across the room. The instructor clapped twice.

"Okay everyone, that's it for the morning. You can all go change and have a shower if you're comfortable doing so. Everybody please don't forget deodorant. And perfume and deodorant isn't the same thing.

"We're going to have lunch and then you'll have school classes until four-thirty, I believe. Meet back in the gym then."

Neuro dutifully logged the information away. The other girls split into groups, began chattering away. She turned to go to the changerooms, but the instructor stopped her. "Neuro, do you have a moment?"

Neuro was exhausted, but she turned to her with a smile. "Yeah?"

"I've noticed some things with your performance. You don't seem... how do I put this..." She thought for a second. "You don't seem exactly present, Neuro. It's like you're a machine. Move leg here, move arm here. I'm sorry I'm bringing this up now, but I thought you'd grow out of it as you became more comfortable. So, what I'm saying is that you need to put more emotion into your performance. Do you understand?"

Neuro considered this. She didn't understand. But she couldn't just say that. The instructor would think less of her. Though wasn't the more important thing that she understood? "Can... can you tell me how to do that?"

The teacher sighed. Neuro's stomach flipped. "Well, remember how we worked on telling a story? I want you to always be thinking about that while dancing. You seem like you have the technical details down for the most part, and I think you're zoning out while performing. That means you can put that attention towards the feelings of the dance." She pursed her lips. "How about next time we run the concert, you sit out for a bit and watch the other girls perform? You can pay attention to how they're doing it. Does that sound good?"

Neuro nodded, cheeks bright red from embarrassment and attention. She hoped she wouldn't seem too weird, sitting and watching. She turned to leave again.

"Oh, and Neuro?" The instructor grimaced. "I hate to say this, but... you could stand to practice your smile."

Neuro already had. She just nodded, not trusting her words.

It was a good idea, watching people. To be like them. But it was embarrassing if the people knew she was watching.

She considered this. Considered how she didn't know how to be like the other girls. And figured out how to fix it.

Chapter Text

A quaint little house sat on the edge of town, with a horribly-maintained lawn and an ugly paint job. The previous owners had messed up their renovation, ruining the structural integrity, then gave up and sold it for less than they bought it for. Mom and father were so excited to first get it, already making plans to fix it. But that didn't happen, because Neuro happened. Then Evil. And now the house was falling apart.

Evil curled into the fetal position on her bed, her wet hair making the pillow all gross. She was quietly beatboxing along to the groans of the vents. They made a little tune that changed every few minutes. Father wanted to "fix" it. Evil didn't think there was anything to fix. She slowly rocked in place, trying to make the creaks of the bed fit into the music. It... sort of worked. Not really. Call it experimental.

She looked around at her room. Dusty with yellowing walls. She had put posters over most of the cracks, some handmade, some scavenged. She hadn't heard of half of the bands displayed. The people in them stared at her.

Ikea furniture sat lonely, too modern for the space. It wasn't arranged in any sort of sensible layout; rather, the pieces were placed in a kind of barricade to separate the door side of the room from the bed side. It looked like ass, but Evil couldn't sleep without it.

She had a pitiful stuffed animal collection on a shelf. They were lonely up there. She got the turtle from school as a bingo prize. She hadn't really wanted to play bingo, knew she'd lose, but the teacher would be disappointed. Write something down on his computer, like always. So she played and, surprisingly, she won.

The harpoon she had made herself, poorly. Mom had gotten her a needle, thread, and sewing book when she asked. The fabric came from a really ugly shirt. It had a stick inside so that it wouldn't bend. She had been proud of it, when she made it.

And finally, a former family friend had given mom a stuffed wolf when he found out she was pregnant. She had never met him.

She flopped onto her back. She was bored again. Nothing to do. She wanted to play with Neuro, but Neuro was at dance school. It was stupid that Neuro got school where you dance all day while Evil got normal school she had to be grateful for. Her family and everybody kept talking about how it was better than her old school. Yeah, because the signs of a good school were that your child was constantly in trouble.

Evil wished they had spent the extra money on something else. She was so unhappy, but nobody even noticed. Maybe if she died of unhappiness then they would finally care. "Oh, my baby!" mom cried. "If only we loved her, she might have lived!" Served her right. But father would probably be fine.

She didn't think she was sad enough to die, because her heart was fine, but she felt like she should be. She concentrated on being sadder, on all the injustice...

...and nothing happened.

She wondered how sad you actually have to be to break your heart. Maybe somebody else had to die first. She didn't want anyone to die except her teachers at school, and she doubted that would make her very sad. She huffed and abandoned that line of logic.

She really wanted to play with Neuro.

...

She didn't have any way to tell the time in here, and it drove her crazy. How long had it been? How long was left? When she got out of her bath and went to her room, it had been one o'clock. Mom would get home around five. Her hair was still relatively wet, so it had probably been less than three hours and more than half an hour. Not very helpful.

Her brain was twitching to do something. Anything. She was so bored. She was also so tired, and just wanted to lay in bed. She wanted so many things her head could explode.

But then, her unhappiness suddenly gave way to inspiration. With a groan, she pushed herself up and went over to her desk in the middle of the room. She pulled out a sheet of paper. Stared at it for a minute. Took out a (stolen) pencil and began sketching.

Careful skylines formed in her mind and clumsily fell onto the paper. Her kingdom, so perfect in her mind, was... somewhat recognizable on paper. Maybe.

She looked at her creation.

...

The drawing sat in a crumpled ball on the floor, mirroring Evil. She was so tired and sad and bored. She wanted to skip time until she could leave her room.

It was break time at dance school. The girls ran through the halls, squealing, as university students left or covered their ears. Neuro lagged behind, knowing she wasn't a part of the group and wasn't welcome. The adults around her sneered at her, and she felt scared and guilty on behalf of her peers. She hurried to get to the empty classroom available at break time.

Neuro had a new plan to be like the others. She would watch them and figure out their actions and words. She just needed more data. It was like learning a language.

Confident in her spying abilities, Neuro pretended to draw while listening to the group one table over. They were laughing at something on their phones.

"Oh my god, does he ever shower?!"

"Ewww! Just because he's ugly-" The group devolved into giggles.

One of them put on a voice. "Guys, be serious. Don't make fun of the disabled."

A few of them snorted. "Yeah, obviously pass. Who's next?"

Neuro frowned. She didn't understand. But that meant she had to listen to them more, right?

They all paused before one girl spoke up.

"I mean... He's like-"

"Oh my god, no! Finley, look at his nose!"

Finley huffed. "You didn't let me finish! He was really hot in that... uhh... that, like, movie! The one we saw last week. And anyway, he's really rich."

"But you don't get the money unless you marry him, and he's already taken."

"Oh. Can't you like- like get him to divorce her? If he likes you enough?" She thought for a second. "...Are you saying I'm not cute enough for him? Hmph."

Someone interjected, "Not until you grow some boobs!" They all burst out laughing again.

"Hey! Just because you shove Kleenex in your shirt-" Neuro couldn't catch the rest over their laughs.

"What! These are completely natural! I'm an early bloomer!"

"Really. What's your secret, then?"

"You have to come closer. I don't want everyone to hear." Neuro strained her ears as Finley shifted closer to the other girl.

fart

"EWWW! Get away from me!" The table was in uproar. The conversation turned into the farting girl chasing Finley around the room.

Neuro was thoroughly confused. She had thought laughing was for funny things. Clearly not. Maybe it functioned like a punctuation mark. That seemed... partially right. She'd have to listen more.

What they were talking about didn't make much sense. It seemed like they were discussing men. And marrying them. Neuro thought that you had to be a grown-up to marry someone. Maybe they were talking about when they were grown-ups? That meant Neuro should consider a future husband too.

And boobs. Why were they talking about boobs? And getting them. And pretending to have them. She'd have to try it herself - the tissue-stuffing part - to see what the fuss was about.

Okay, so that was a manageable list. Find someone to marry, try boobs, and listen more. She nodded to herself.

If being like everyone else was a test, she was acing it.