Chapter Text
RJ was a girl who ran.
She ran away from men. From women, from children, and things far beyond mortal comprehension.
From her father's murder.
From the truth.
Because that was all she could do. Run away.
In the end, a mouse that is trapped in a cage that it is not aware of is still trapped. It's only a matter of time before it gets caught.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
CPS found her in an alleyway. Alone, shivering, and half-dead with hunger.
At least, that was what the agent said. She — the CPS agent who found her — was really playing up the situation when she was brought to the local police station.
. . .
The statement was perhaps true. She was alone, she was shivering, but she certainly was not half-dead with hunger. In fact, she had barely just finished a half-eaten burger she had found while scrounging the nearest dumpsters when she was suddenly rudely interrupted by a woman's gasp.
She barely had any time to register whether she should run or throw a punch or even just flinch when a face popped right in front of her. RJ was so startled she practically flew backwards, scrambling away as far as she could go before her back unfortunately hit the wall. Her scooching didn't really make that much of a difference.
"You poor thing...", the woman tutted, her hand coming forward to clamp on RJ's shoulder; her grip was tight, like she was forbidding RJ to go. "What are you doing here?"
RJ felt herself freeze under the woman's concerned gaze. Something inside her screamed at her to pull away, to wrench her shoulder and run, but she found herself unable to do anything but look. The woman was blonde, hair in a neat ponytail and wore a black jacket over a plain blue shirt - one that RJ came to realize was the standard uniform of the CPS: exactly the kind of people she was trying to avoid. To RJ, she seemed like those posh gymnastics kids she used to go to school with.
Just her luck.
The lady wore an ID; it identified her as Veronica Taylors.
Veronica pulled RJ forward, eyes scanning her. It felt like she was under a spotlight, the lady's eyes were so unnervingly bright behind her too-big glasses.
"Little girl?" Veronica's voice broke through her panic.
"Don't call me that." RJ said, though it came out as a croak rather than words. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Don't call me that... and please let me go." She asked as politely as she could while trapped between a filthy wall and a creepy woman.
Veronica didn't let go, but her grip loosened. RJ shrugged off the rest of Veronica's hand and stared at her awkwardly.
...
She wasn't getting out of this one, was she?
...
RJ couldn't really remember much of their interaction, or how exactly she had ended up in the back of a police car sitting next to Veronica, but she was certain of one thing: she was so dead.
She was in a car with a CPS woman who hadn't even bothered to introduce herself, which was an all-time low.
Maybe not now, but later when she was brought to the police station. She knew there were questions she was going to be asked that she did not have the answers to. She wasn't ready to even bring up that topic, which was a large part of her diligently avoiding the police, the CPS, or any sort of government agency.
She was in a car with a CPS woman who hadn't even bothered to introduce herself, which was an all-time low.
As they rode to...somewhere, Veronica asked questions. The normal ones, thank God.
"What's your name?" Veronica asked as she whipped out a notepad. Then, noticing RJ's wary gaze on the object. attempted to hide the thing — albeit poorly. RJ was tempted to snort at the attempt but thought against it. One wrong move could get her handed to the wrong sort of people.
"RJ." She answered shortly.
...
"And your last name?"
Should she lie? RJ asked herself. On one hand, lying could get her mistaken as another person and everything will be all fine and she could just pretend... but what if she got returned to the wrong family? What if there was no other missing RJ and she would be labeled as a crackhead and sent under investigation until she spat out the truth? What if-
Okay, so she wouldn't lie. RJ was hyperaware of the silence stretching longer and longer between them. She should just get this over with.
"...Guevarra."
"RJ... Guevarra? Is that it?" Veronica pressed, eyes unnaturally hungry for information.
"Yeah... yeah."
"How old are you?"
She already gave away her name. No sense in lying further.
"8."
Veronica's brain visibly stuttered. "8? I thought you were seven or something.", she mumbled incredulously to herself.
"Yeah, I get that often." RJ wasn't surprised at that; people often mistook her as younger because of her incredibly short height. Her malnourished state probably did wonders to her figure.
Veronica looked at her, mouth agape. RJ knew then she should not have responded.
"You heard that?"
"Uh... yeah. I-I take, I mean, I used to take vitamins... for my ears. "She gestured vaguely to her ears. A bad lie. She cringed as soon as it came out her mouth.
Veronica's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she did not prod further.
"Do you have any guardians we can contact?"
"No."
"No...? I'm sure you have someone. Maybe your mother or aunt and uncle, or your father-"
"I said I don't have one!" RJ snapped. She glared at the woman, but inside she felt confused.
Why was she so angry? Why did she snap like that? What was wrong with her?
It was clear that Veronica pitied her, and something about her eyes, wide with concern and mouth set in a way that said, 'This kid needs help and I'll give it', could fool anyone.
But not RJ, something was just so wrong about Veronica Taylors. Her posture was too straight and formal, her hands too eager to write RJ's personal information down, and a face that was just so determined, and concerned and caring that it set RJ off.
Maybe that was it.
This woman reminded her too much of her own father.
No, no. That couldn't be it.
Maybe it was because after all this time, wandering in the streets alone, she was confused that someone actually wanted to help her. She was confused that someone still wanted to help her.
She realized that she resented this woman, this perfect woman, who symbolized help. The help she needed. The help she had so painfully begged for. The help she used to want but never got.
"Where were you when I needed you most?"
Maybe she resented this woman because she came too late.
"Well, I... RJ, please do calm down, I'm only trying to help." The apprehension in Veronica's eyes just irritated RJ more.
"I'll tell you more when we finally reach wherever you're taking me." She muttered, trying to reign in her sudden annoyance.
RJ was tired of this bullcrap. She missed her moldy burgers, the appetizing smell of last resorts and barely scraping by...
With a sigh, she shifted her head to face the window, the sidewalks passing by in a blur. She heard Veronica Taylors fumble with something.
Tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap.
Was Veronica typing? Maybe it was about RJ. To distract herself, she let her imagine run wild and free. Focused anywhere but where she was.
.....
Ricardo Miller Jr.
(Message him?)
9:35 am.
You:
Ricardo: Oh, and don't forget to bring the donuts to the station later.
Bruh ricardo. you fatass
Why do you type so formally when we aint even at work.
Ricardo: Sybau heathers wannabe.
Sybau?? LOLL what are you, six?
otw tho
just gonna roam the streets just in case
Ricardo: You are such a goody-two-shoes, Veronica. Just get over here already. Zania's already hooting and hollering for her pastries.
Ricardo: and Kisha's telling me to tell you to hurry the fuck up.
Tell Kishababes I said yes maam
Just gotta check the streets for deliquents and drug addicts
Also maybe dead bodies.
Byeeeee
Ricardo: yo stop taking my job. gtg too.
Bryna's trying to kill me for spilling coffee on the paperwork.
lmaaoo
10:27 am
RICARDO
RICARDO
@Ricardo Miller Jr
HOLYYYY FUUUU
I FOUND
A CHILD
WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO
Ricardo: deadass??
VERONICA WHAT THE HELL
what did you do???
NOTHINGG
I WAS JUST
ROAMING THE STREETS LIKE I SAID
THEN BOOM
RAGGED LITTLE GIRL
she's eating scraps from the trash can omg
i think i wanna cry'
how tf am i supposed to approach her
Ricardo: calm and gentle, don't make any loud noises. you might startle her.
the way u suddenly locked in is crazyy
Ricardo: focus.
ou shit my bad
I'm trying it out right now.
11:19 am
Ricardo: Yo
Veronica??
Helloooo
how did the operation go??
11:47 am
Ricardo: Hello?? You there??
We're coming over.
Information: Her name's RJ Guevarra, she's 8 years old, severely malnourished, flighty and very perceptive
Ricardo: Holy shit it is serious.
Wait
COMING OVER??
Yes. Also, she feels weird
Ricardo: Wdym "weird"
Veronica??
She keeps flinching and she's very fidgety and like
I don't know how to describe it but
her eyes are so... expressively empty
Ricardo: I don't know wtf that means but okay
Do you think she was
Idk
abused or something
Probably. She reacted violently when i mentioned family.
specifically with fathers
Ricardo: sighh
Typical.
Poor kid.
Ya'll are on the way??
Yes. Tell the others to quiet down.
Don't want to scare her or anything.
Ricardo
Ricardo: Yeah. I told the others already.
Yes??
I also forgot to mention
but uh
I think she might be like me
Ricardo: what??? weird and oddly obsessed with musicals?
.
Ricardo: Oh shit uh
My bad my bad
You're being serious??
YOU genuinely believe this random kid is like you?
I told you she felt weird.
Also she hears very well
Like
I whispered and she heard it
Ricardo: That's probs because ur loud but
If she is a
yk
something like you
we have to get her to camp
bitch why are you censoring demigod
it's not a slur
Ricardo: half-blood is tho
lowkey forgot you guys were called demigods.
cool cool cool
so uhh
who do you suspect her godly parent is?
Probably either Hermes or Athena.
She looks the type
But her aura is
idk
different
not weaker
just different
Ricardo: minor god maybe??
She's gonna have a shit time if she's the child of some minor god
they don't have cabins remember
i can't stand the thought of this poor girl just stuck there for the rest of her life
Not even knowing who her parent is
The hermes cabin is stuffy as hell too
Ricardo: wait fr??
They haven't built more cabins??!!
wtf nica that's messed up
Can't really do anything as of late.
ughh how am i supposed to convince this little girl that gods and monsters are real
Ricardo: on the plus side, she's a kid
probably will believe you
She'll think i'm gaslighting her
i dont want that
the kid looks traumatized enough
she literally just staring out the window like some main character
oh and she smells bad
Ricardo: obviously
she's homeless
UGHHH
ricardo you better help with this one
okay
i don't wanna seem like some gaslighting grooming pedo
eww
plus ur better with talking to kids
Ricardo: yeah yeah fine
just
contact that horse guy of yours
First of all, his name is
Chiron
and second of all
i don't just keep him in my pocket
but yeah i'll try and contact him
Ricardo: literally the least you could do to ensure RJ's survival T-T
also
since ur otw anyway
bring the donuts
well fuck you too
Ricardo: Hey i'm doing you a favor
bitch
i want donuts
Kisha and Zania are waiting
Ughh tell them we have a child on board
their donuts can wait
Ricardo: LMAO??
They know, and they don't care.
do you wanna disappoint your big strong gf kisha??
okay first of all
fuck you
second of all
kisha isn't big and strong
she's lit a twig compared to you and that's saying something
Ricardo: didn't deny the gf part thooo
ayieeeeee
Veronicaaaaa
Stfu we're not together
can we focus on the main point??
Ricardo: okay finneee
but only because there is a child on the line.
otw
be prepared.
Ricardo: Okay that's not ominous at all. :dd
...
RJ snapped out of her daydreaming when the car suddenly skidded to a stop.
Police stations. RJ would rate them a 5/10.
RJ had never been in one before this.
There was nothing special about this one, it was an oversimplified version of the ones she saw from the detective shows her dad used to watch.
A few cubbies were lined up, papers overflowing through the thin walls separating them. Missing posters plastered on a whiteboard. Surrounding a yellowed water cooler were a few policemen and women, just talking… holding donuts. Huh. Maybe the stereotypes weren’t lying.
Veronica accompanied here to a fancier looking cubby, sitting her down on one of the two chairs that were reserved for dignified visitors, not ragged looking children.
RJ could feel the sheer oldness of the building from the cracked tiles to the browned walls that were once eggshell white. Despite the rather run-down look of the place, she could tell it was a well-loved one. Little Knick-knacks littered the cubbies: an over-bedazzled mirror, a whole cup of fuzzy pens, a frame of a family picture.
Veronica sat opposite to her. She opened the notebook she used to record RJ's information on, along with an obnoxiously pink pen. She set her phone on the table. The case was also pink.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Veronica began tapping on her notebook. It sounded like the beginning of a familiar tune. Something RJ couldn't quite place.
Tap. Tap. Tap-tap.
Chatter in the distance. RJ could feel the gazes of policemen and women burning into her back. They were too far away for her to pick up on whatever they might be saying about her. Not that she cared.
Tap-tap. Tap. Tap.
But yeah, she was filthy. And looked run-down. And bone thin. The stench around her was suffocating them. Probably.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
What could Veronica be waiting for? Who could Veronica be waiting for?
Tap.
The tapping slowed-
Tap.
Footsteps-
Tap.
"God, Ricardo you took so damn long!" Veronica grumbled.
RJ looked to her left to see a curly-haired policeman with a weathered face, smile lines visible even if he didn't look a day over 30. He looked like the kind of guy to laugh at your bad jokes because he felt bad.
Ricardo, huh?
'Ricardo' huffed in amusement and sat down in his comfy looking chair. "Nica, you know I'm not always free right? I have job." He turned his attention to RJ. "Is this who you were talking about?"
Oh, so she was texting about RJ earlier. To this guy of all people.
Veronica hastily tried to shut him up-
"She doesn't know we were texting-" She hissed.
"Oh." Ricardo scratched his head before shrugging. "Too late. I 'blew our cover'."
The blonde woman flushed in annoyance. She exhaled and turned to RJ.
"So! RJ, this is our friendly neighborhood cop, Mr. Miller. Mr. Miller, this is RJ."
Ricardo snorted. "Mr. Miller? What am I, a farmer?" He extended his hand to RJ. "Just call me Ricardo, RJ."
RJ hesitated. Should she take his hand? Her own were dusted with dirt and grime. But Ricardo Miller didn't seem like the type to mind dirt and grime. His own uniform was stained with vague impressions of coffee and sauce. RJ shook his hand, trying for a firm grip. No need to show anymore weakness. Then again, she wasn't the epitome of strength. Her arms were spindly and her hands small. It came off as a pathetic excuse for a squeeze that Ricardo barely even noticed. He shook her hand cheerfully, eyes smiling.
"Pleased to meet you, RJ."
RJ didn't know what appropriate pleasantry to say, so she just nodded.
Ricardo gripped her hand for a beat too long before letting go, not even bothering to wipe off the dirt on his hand from RJ. Though Veronica seemed bothered by it. RJ could tell by the way her eyes tracked Ricardo's hand and twitched.
"So. Let's be brief and honest, alright? Veronica brought you-"
Right. Wasn't she supposed to act confused. Veronica never introduced herself. Should she...? Yeah she should.
"Veronica?" She questioned, head tilted in feigned confusion.
Ricardo froze. Then slowly turned to Veronica.
"You didn't even introduce yourself to the kid?"
Veronica looked sheepish, hand rubbing the back of her neck. "Okay so-"
"Please tell me you didn't just drag this poor girl into the police station without even explaining who you are?! " Ricardo fumed.
"Look I didn't mean to-"
"Veronica, this girl endured a whole car ride with a random woman in a police car not even knowing what to call you! Oh my gosh- I thought we went through this in training! Introductions before abductions!"
That... was an interesting way to put it.
With the way the pair bickered, RJ could tell she was going to be stuck here in the middle, for a long, long while.