Chapter Text
Varian already thought too much, and being in a prison cell alone with just him and his thoughts was not good for his mental health. Anyone who knew him would say the same… the problem was that no one really knew him. He thought Rapunzel understood him, and Eugene, even Cass, but they had quickly proven they knew nothing about him at all… the only person who knew him was his father…
Varian pushed that thought out of his head before it could consume him.
“Why are you so stupid, Varian?” He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, fighting back the tears that sprang to them.
Flash.
His father knocking him out of the way, getting encased, trapped by his son’s own invention.
Flash.
Snow stabbing into his eyes as he ran to Rapunzel. Her fault, her fault.
Flash.
The queen begging him to stop… he didn’t listen.
Flash—
“Stop, stop it!” He pounded his fist into his skull to fight back the array of memories… mistakes, every bad thing that had happened. It was Rapunzel’s fault. If she had just kept her promise and helped him, not turned him away like a lost pet—
But everything that happened was a result of my mistake!
He pushed that thought away too.
He needed to get out of this prison cell!
Varian slammed his hands against the wall, sending shockwaves through his nerves and making him hunch in on himself.
The guards paid no attention to his minor breakdown. Well, it didn’t feel minor per se. It made his head really freaking hurt!
But he had learned that if he was having an actual major breakdown, he would commit treason, maybe kidnap a queen, threaten a kingdom, attack a princess with magic hair with his non-magical robots. The guards would surely notice if he did that.
“God, why did I do that?” he whispered to himself, squeezing his eyes shut.
After a long time, when he finally got his breathing and swirling headache under control, Varian opened his eyes, looking around the now too-blue room.
That was weird.
Why was the room blue?
It wasn’t the kind of blue you saw when you pressed your eyes in or closed them for hours in the sun. It was vibrant, radiant blue.
He glanced at the guards, who were playing a game of dice, both very much enthralled with their game to pay attention to the teenage terrorist brat, as the rest of the castle called the newest prisoner.
He brought his focus back to the cell.
Still blue.
“Weird…”
He stood up from his sitting position, joints aching from being unmoved for so long.
His eyes widened.
The wall…
The area where he had punched the wall was leaking a pool of liquid.
He looked down at his hands.
“Oh my God.”
He was going to be sick.
His hands were a stark black starting from his void-dark fingertips to his wrists, where it went back to his normal skin tone. His palms were a gradient of black and gray, turning from darker to lighter from his fingertips to his wrists.
His eyes went cross-eyed as he saw his hair in the outside of his vision. He pulled on the abnormal blue streak and realized it was glowing.
OH MY GOD!
It was a bright blue, glowing with what seemed to be the same magic as Rapunzel’s.
“Oh my God…” he hissed under his breath. “Oh my G— Varian, get a hold of yourself!”
It didn’t stop his brain from kicking into gear, analyzing every single thing in the room.
“Fact one…” He bit his lip, thinking. “Okay, fact one: there are no facts, and nothing makes any freaking sense right now!”
Varian said it a little too loudly.
One of the guards leaned back in his chair, looking at the deranged boy, who looked back with one hand clutching a chunk of his hair. The prisoner waved, smiling.
“I don’t know if it’s an insult that we got the shady teenager or if it’s a reward for working the psychopaths all week.”
The other guard shrugged.
“I’m not sure he isn’t a psychopath.”
“Maybe more of a sociopath. You know, isn’t that the one that doesn’t feel guilt about their actions?” said the first guard.
“Oh yeah! He certainly doesn’t look guilty.”
“Well, guilt is subjective!” Varian shouted back at the guards, his hand still wrapped around his still-glowing streak. He did not want them to know about that right now. They might go get the queen or king or, worse, the princess.
“Shut up, kid!” the second guard snapped at him, turning back to their game.
“That was harsh. I barely spoke. It wasn't like I recited anything!”
I’m fine. I don't feel guilty about my actions because they deserved it. The thing I’m feeling is disappointment in myself for failing!
Or at least that’s what Varian kept telling himself.
He stepped back to the farthest wall from the guards, letting himself slide down the rough stone. His clothes caught on the protruding rocks.
Varian rested his head between his knees, breathing carefully.
Slowly, he brought his head back up, and then his eyes landed on the same spot that was still leaking blue ooze.
It just kept going.
He brought his hand out to meet it, body shaking as he did.
Right before his fingers touched it, he stopped.
This was really dumb.
He should not be touching the magical blue ooze-stuff!
The ooze froze.
His eyes widened, every warning in his head going off, and then he did something really stupid…
Varian touched it.
The room exploded in blue light.
He stood up quickly, the world tilting and his head growing heavy.
A second blast went off, stronger this time.
Varian blew through the room, the prison cell bars snapping as he slammed against them.
The guards gaped at him, and then at the huge hole where his fun little home used to be.
Think scientifically.
Symptoms:
- glowing hair
- discoloration spreading from fingertips
- hallucinations? hopefully hallucinations (probably wasn’t because the hole… in the wall)
- strange geological activity
- possible magic
Most likely concussion because, well, he could feel the blood sticking to his hair (that wasn’t good).
Possible causes:
- sleep deprivation
- stress
- insanity
- poisoning
- Big big blast that really hurt!
His vision dimmed as more guards came rushing in, shouting.
God, why were they so loud?
But to Varian’s relief, they were slowly becoming quieter.
Okay, maybe that wasn’t good because from what his blurry vision could see, only more people were coming in, and more people meant very loud and he— w— his body stopped working and his head lulled to the side, resting on the cold wall.
The last thing he saw was his body falling the last few inches and his cheek hitting the ground and then…
Flynn Rider?