Work Text:
Needle still remembered what Ruby had said when she'd first gifted her this bracelet.
That, then, she was truly part of Freesmart. Gently, she remembered, Ruby had placed it into Needle's two open hands, and slowly covered it back up with her fingers. To protect it. It was a treasure. A precious, priceless band of gold. And, it was earlier that same day, when Ruby had named her a member.
It felt good, then, in that moment. To be acknowledged for her hard work, of course, yet, she'd realized then that it felt just as good to be welcomed somewhere, too.
Needle remembered the way Ruby had looked up at her that day, the unfiltered excitement ever-present in her eyes. She remembered winning the challenge with her. The way Ruby had jumped into her arms. Still, as quickly as those thoughts came, she remembered every time Pencil denied her membership, too. Despite the bracelet, she thought.
Ruby had made her that. Spent her time and energy and resources and made her that. That had to count for something, right? Friendship over membership.
A weary sigh passed through her. Clearly not.
It'd been three challenges since then. And, there, as she stood amidst the coolness of a summer night's breeze, Needle felt more alone than ever.
She severed her gaze from the gleaming stars beyond her, and met the vivid, vibrant pink of the cuff. It was loose around her wrist, she'd noticed. Worn, too. It frayed at the edges.
Fidgeting with each delicate strand of the yarn, her eyes swept back up to the sky. A black, beautiful painting it was, before her. Each glitter and sparkle within the darkness sung and twinkled like a magnificent chorus. It was a gorgeous, haunting harmony in her ears. Lazily, her arms rested along the frigid railing. A stunning night. A night for thinking.
That morning, she'd played for two teams at once. And, just hours earlier, she'd managed to disappoint both of them, not to mention herself. The shame ached and whined agonizingly within her the pits of her soul; she was supposed to be the strong one. Confident. Enough. With every passing second, she felt she was being torn apart from the inside out. The guilt chewed through her body like a parasite.
A profound, pungent taste of chagrin was etched into her mouth, and it was nauseating. Every step of the way. Every action that'd led to these overwhelming failures, every rung—they were fresh wounds in her mind, the blood of each detail oozing from them uncontrollably—rushing, rushing, rushing, and it'd never stop. It felt that way; permanent. And, maybe the damage was. The last time she'd seen any of Freesmart was the closing of the challenge. She'd failed them.
..No—she was a good player! She knew what she was doing. She'd just had a slip-up. A slip-up that.. could.. cost her… the game… Was she the first contestant to appear in the voting twice? Her stomach twisted.
She.. was a good player, she reminded herself. And.. even if she'd let her teammates down, well.. that was.. fine…
Her head shifted into her hands, elbows sinking into the cold metal. It didn't matter. WOAH Bunch didn't matter to her. And neither did.. Freesmart.
A million different thoughts pounded through her, and she took a deep breath, trying to shut them out. It didn't.
She didn't need anyone, anyway, did she? Who cared if she'd upset them? Who cared? Needle didn't. She wasn't that type of person.
She wasn't the type of person to get hung up on something like that. She wasn't the type of person to let it plague her mind, to let the seed of shame flourish and grow into a tall, sturdy stalk. She wasn't. And, she definitely wasn't the type of person to let it make her rethink every choice she'd ever made, to make her wonder where she could've acted differently, to make her wonder what could've been, to make her wonder where her place was, if she even had a place at all. That wasn't her. Rapidly, she shook out her head like a wet animal, her fingers barely catching the railing as her arms dropped. Those just weren't things she thought about.
On the top of the Yoyle Needy, there was a picture-perfect view of the whole city; the endless skyscrapers, the Yoyleball stadium, each winding, weaving road. She'd take her mind off of things. She'd look there.
One thing Needle had realized quickly through her time in Yoylecity: abandoned cities didn't light up at night like the normal ones did. Obviously—but at first, it felt unfamiliar, walking through sidewalks and cracked streets and tall, towering buildings under a blanket of shadows. Over time, though, she'd become accustomed to the quiet, dark nights a place like that had to offer. There was a certain.. comfort to be found in the solitude of only the moon's beams lighting the roads.
Needle took a breath, and it shook her whole body on its way out. Within the dark of the breathtaking night, she spotted a dim blend of cool colors near the horizon. Greens, and blues, and purples. The way they swam into each other—their dazzling, radiant dance—it soothed her like the weight of a gentle, perfect hug. At the top of the sky shined the brightest, gleaming star, and a whisper of cold brushed past her. From behind, her ponytail was waved through it, flowing and streaming through the breeze. She felt grin come to her lips, even if slowly.
She wouldn't mind spending the rest of the night that way. What had happened had happened. The sick thoughts could be rid from her mind now, as long as she had that; the relief of a distraction. Of an escape.
Arms folded over each other and flat against the railing once more, she'd realized true peace had come to her for the first time that day. Maybe it'd been longer than that, considering the circumstances. But it didn't matter. Not anymore. Needle could only control the present. And, it was definitely easier to think about where she was in the present, enveloped in a calm, quiet night, rather than Coiny, or Pin, or Book, or Pencil. Beside her then was only the vast, endless sky, and it's millions of stars, sprinkled across the atmosphere like a pretty, freckled face. Still smiling, Needle took a deep breath. A full one. And she blinked, slowly. It'd be okay. She didn't have to think of the hard things anymore. Not now. Not for a while.
Yet, with the cruelest timing of all, like that day had wanted to grant her one hefty, final joke—
"—Needle! Oh my.. oh my word! I've been.." someone had panted. "..looking.. for… you!"
It took every drop of patience within her to suppress a groan. Needle didn't have to turn to know that voice. She didn't have to turn to see the stupid, dorky face that would've greeted her. She knew; that was Book.
And, really, that was just… fantastic. Who needed a break, anyway, right? Who needed relief! Just a few seconds had passed, and she already felt the shame rising from it's short-lived slumber like bile in her stomach. So much for distractions.
Needle pressed two fingers to her temples, before shifting her palms into her eyes. "Listen, I know I screwed up, Book. If you're here to tell me how upset you are, or how disappointed you are, then just—"
"No!"
Back stiffened, Needle's arms fell, and her fingertips brushed the edge of the railing. Silence sat between them for one beat, then two, then three, until she finally voiced what had been circling her thoughts since Book had arrived.
"…What?"
Book, still struggling to catch her breath, shuffled her way beside Needle. Clumsily, she leaned one arm against the rail, looking up at Needle with an expression she could hardly read. Needle's eyes darted across her face for a few seconds, studying, before they ultimately settled on meeting Book's.
"I—please, listen to me, okay?"
Hesitance, immediately. The word "no" probed at Needle, along with the pulling, infuriated urge to walk away. Each action she took going forward felt calculated, and she looked again, for any sign of anything in Book's presence. All she'd gathered was a gleam of desperation in Book's eyes. With a sigh, Needle stayed put.
"I've been.. just.. thinking about the challenge, and what happened today, and I feel bad. You did your best under the circumstances. And, since I know Pencil won't, I wanted to say that.. I'm sorry."
Her voice was gentle, soft. As the last word rolled off her tongue, it stalled in the air between them. Needle had turned her body to look at Book, really look at her, and there was an unfamiliar demeanor of.. almost determination that she saw in her. Carefully, Needle took a breath.
"Since Pencil won't?"
"Well—I– you know, just—" Book sputtered, before she cut herself off. Her gaze darted beyond the railing, just for a moment, before she met Needle's eyes again. "..You know how she is."
The painful melancholy of a hundred thousand memories poured itself into Needle's heart. Quietly, "…I do."
A certain, pensive silence spilled into the air. Turning away, Needle met the cityscape once more. The comfort of every building, the way the hues in the sky wrapped around her. She didn't wanna think about Freesmart anymore. She didn't wanna think about Pencil anymore. She didn't wanna think about the fact that no matter how hard she tried, she never had a place anywhere. Book looked like she had a million things she wanted to say. Needle looked like she physically couldn't talk anymore.
"Would it be okay if I said.. me too?" Book whispered.
Needle didn't respond.
"…I… okay. I don't fully know how you feel.. obviously, but Pencil… she…" Book fidgeted with her hands, slowly. "She's never been.. the greatest. And—don't get me wrong, she's amazing! She's my friend! I would never forget that, it's just.."
"..she doesn't treat us Alternates the best. Maybe you know that better than any of us."
Needle's eyes gradually turned back to Book. That acknowledgment, again. She bit her cheek, the silence urging Book to continue.
"What happened today just has made me.. start thinking about.. everything, I guess," Book confessed, speaking a little faster than she was before. The weight of Needle's thoughtful, imposing gaze pressed down on her.
"About her refusal to include you, the way she.. really just does anything but. I-I mean, you've probably done more for this team than I have! Why do I get to be a member, but you don't? It's stupid! She's stu—!" and Book cut herself off, covering her mouth and gasping.
The words spilled from her fast, and suddenly, the air felt five times heavier. Instantly, Book curled into herself. Her eyebrows stayed pressed together. Needle knew it probably wasn't helping Book's racing mind, but she couldn't help but stay silent, frozen. She wanted to speak up. She wanted to have something to say. Still, she had little to give, only her open mouth and raised eyebrows. Was Book just impulsive, or is that how she really felt? The moment hardly felt real.
"Please don't tell anyone I said that," Book whispered, voice tiny and weak, an alarming contrast from the booming, animated speech she held before.
"Okay," Needle said, quickly. "Okay."
Book's gaze flickered from the cityscape back to Needle rapidly. Her hands fell into each other over and over again, wrung and twisted and fiddled with. Though, slowly, she calmed.. somewhat, her movements slowing.
"I'm... ugh, I'm sorry. I don't mean to get so… weird." Book's face dropped, and she rested an arm against the railing. "Just… know that I know how you feel. How it feels to be.. excluded from Freesmart. Somewhat."
Needle looked ahead at the skyline before her. Her eyes were narrowed, and her lips pressed into a thin line. "Do you wanna… elaborate?"
Book breathed in, then out. Slowly. Carefully. Her body turned towards the open, endless sky.
"Well, sure," she began.
"Before Freesmart was officially… Freesmart, Icy and I tried to join. Instantly, we're just reduced to.. Alternates. None of it worked out greatly. Until Match and Bubble left we were.. ugh, I hate to say this—but, kind of… useless. We just were so… disposable…?" She stayed curled in on herself. Each word came like a deliberate, slow choice, and she spoke like if she said the wrong thing, she'd be demoted. And, if Pencil were here, maybe she would be. "They would just… they.. cared about us, but… less. Painfully so. It almost felt like.. we weren't real people to them, sometimes I… I guess…"
Book looked over at Needle. The world felt still. Quiet. Soft. There was an air of calmness that steadied over them.
"Is that how you feel now?"
Needle blinked, and she jolted back, if slightly. Is that how she felt now..
A thousand answers rushed to her head at once, but she bit her tongue.
"Why are you asking?"
A beat of confused silence, then speech. "I just... care about you, Needle. I wanna know how you feel. I looked everywhere to talk to you for a reason," Book replied, a brief, dry laugh easing from her.
Needle's face was wiped expressionless. Care. She slipped her chin into one of her palms.
Of course people cared about her. Recently, that'd been the issue; too many people caring. Yet.. there was something different about hearing it so… bluntly. So genuinely.
Earlier, Needle had worried that she'd ruined everything. And, there Book was, there for her anyways. Like she was more than what she could give in a challenge.
It gave Needle something to think about. A lot of things.
After years of silence, she took a deep breath.
"..Thanks, Book."
Those were the only words she could muster. The only thought, out of millions, that she could release.
"Of course."
Book had said it so simply. So plainly. Like caring about Needle was the only thing she had ever known.
..Needle bit her cheek, and, oddly, she felt a bit warmer.
There was a simple kind of reflective silence that settled between them after that. Needle had never experienced anything quite like it. Her mind, so full, so overloaded yet… slow. Each thought came deliberately. And, beside her was somebody else, for once. Someone who.. cared, presumably. That was something.
Through the air, Needle caught glimpses of the occasional glowing firefly, and the moths that flittered spontaneously. Their wings were spread far, and their path was free. Unwilled. Her gaze followed their steady, relentless soar with thought.
Further up, in the apex of the sky posed the giant, bellowing moon. Its rays of light beamed and glittered across the city, and the way it'd reflected across the ocean that rested far, far in the distance cast a beautiful glow. Each divot and crook of it's terrain held its own brilliant, shadowy shade of gray. The light that emitted from it caught Needle's eyes like a reeling, hypnotizing gem, and it emphasized each height of the town in it's own custom, special manners.
There were the hollow, fractured windows of the rusting vehicles abandoned to the side of the road. Or the dead, decayed flickering of each skyscraper's sign. It didn't really matter to her, what it was, or where it stood. Anything could be beautiful. And, the things that seemed the least appealing often were. It was worth opening your mind. Things would defy your expectations, she'd learned.
Far beyond them was the lofty, dignified Yoyle Mountain. Scattered patches of foliage covered it's entire surface, scaling from its base to the top of the climb. When standing in it's presence, trying to ignore the memories of its summit was like avoiding the watching eyes of a hungry crowd. The days, upon weeks of walking.. the long, grueling journey they'd made together. That her and the WOAH Bunch had made together…. Needle bit her cheek.
She liked being around Freesmart more, she thought. WOAH Bunch, at least the part of it she was active in, never felt as closely-knit as they did. On Freesmart, everybody had a place; a purpose. It felt good to be needed somewhere—to be wanted. Even if, at times, the treatment didn't feel… fantastic. Needle looked down at the tile beneath her feet.
Not feeling like a real person because of Freesmart's treatment. Every few moments, her mind couldn't help but wander back to that.
She guessed she.. barely knew how she felt anymore. In their own, special ways, playing on each team felt like bonding. And, again, in their own ways, it felt like completing a task. Something she simply had to do. Which was… accurate, it was only a challenge, she guessed. It wasn't supposed to be a slumber party. But, then, why was everyone else having significantly more… fun than she was?
Her focus swept over to Book. She was still looking looking off the guardrail, and Needle couldn't help but notice how.. calm she looked. What was she thinking about? What could she possibly have going on in her head?
Earlier. Each word she'd said, each smile she'd given, how she'd… so willingly opened up, all in an effort to make Needle feel better. It was sort of… admirable, in a way, her compassion… and concern… and loyalty.. and—
"Needle? What?"
She blinked, a sudden pink blush overcoming her.
"Oh—sorry, just thinking, it's, um…" Needle's eyes flickered away, and she sighed before bringing them back. "…nice… being here with you… you know?"
It felt embarrassing. There was an urge to take it all back, to take the long, winding flight of stairs down and leave at that very second that prodded at her, but then Book smiled. Looked up at her and showed her a real, heartfelt grin. And… sewing store, then Needle didn't have any choice but to stay.
"Thank you," Book had replied. Her voice was so…. soft, like if Needle could reach out and touch it, it'd be plush. A place she'd like to sleep in, maybe. Thinking of it, she could probably fall asleep to the sound of Book's voice pretty easily. Calming, especially in this kind of setting. And, she did ramble quite frequently—
—a sudden warm pressure cupped her left hand. A set of fingers fell in-between her own, and when Needle looked down—
..!
Cotton-candy like fuzz flood every inch of her head within a millisecond. Book was holding her hand.
The weird, suffocating yet beautiful sensation that had grown in her—Needle had never felt anything quite like it. The way her mind had short-circuited instantly—the way her face had been dyed red. That felt… that…
Just friendly feelings. Everything she was experiencing had to be. Needle didn't.. she…
That was fine, she assured herself. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing weird. Nothing.. frazzling, that was just a normal thing to do! Especially in a situation like this. And she'd have a normal reaction to it, too, as soon as she could come back to Earth. Back to the moment. Though.. that was growing increasingly.. harder, her heart beginning to race. W.. why was that even…. she felt every nerve be set alight.
Her gaze couldn't help but flicker, back and forth, back and forth, until it landed on the rail in front of them, and she took a deep breath, narrowing her eyes. Fine. All good. All. Good. She was making it weird, when there was nothing weird about it. If slapping herself didn't require moving her hand, then she would've done it.
"Needle, you, uh.." Book twisted her head up to look at her face. "You good?"
"Wh—why are you asking? I'm fine." The words came quicker than she meant them to.
Book couldn't hold back a snicker. "Okay…" she doubted, snorting quietly. Needle's flushed a deeper shade of red, her gaze locked onto the railing, and Book squeezed her hand.
"It's fine. I'm glad to be here with you, Needle. Thanks for listening to me." She didn't shift her gaze. "I mean it."
Needle's eyebrows unraveled, and her death-grip on Book's hand loosened.
"…"
So many things she wanted to say. Too many to say all at once, in one sentence.
"..Thank you, Book."
That was good enough. Book responded with a smile, and Needle's stomach did a flip.
It'd be okay. As long as she could see that forever, everything would be okay.
The night surrounding them hummed and buzzed and sang. Each green, and purple, and blue had mixed into one deepening, glittering twilight. The buildings were disposable blocks of cement under the moon's stunning reign.
Needle had remembered how she'd wanted nothing more than to be rid of every thought that wasn't this cityscape earlier; yet, even with that goal stripped from her, and one of the last people she wanted to see in that moment standing right by her side, she felt.. content. Happy. Happier than she'd been in a while. Happier than she would've been otherwise, probably.
Maybe, today hadn't been the best, but…
Book squeezed her hand again, sending ripples of fondness through Needle's entire body, and she broke out into a grin.
Maybe it was worth it.