Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Winnie was bored. Nothing was on TV, her books seemed incredibly dull, and she was too old for her toys. She decided to try getting a full conversation out of her father.

“Father!” She shouted, skipping down the steps of her mansion. She heard muffled voices coming from his White Hat room, and she sighed in annoyance. Determined not to give up, she knocked on the door. When it was obvious she was going to be ignored, she banged on the door until it swung open.

“Yes, what is it?” Her father, Mr. Portley-Rind, said with annoyance. “Oh, Winifred.”

“Father, I...I thought I saw a burglar, outside my window. I was afraid I would become little girl bits in a couple minutes.” Winnie said quickly, trying desperately to keep his attention.

People were talking from inside the room and it was obvious Mr. Portley-Rind was trying to hear what they were saying. “Ah, yes dear. Now go to bed, it’s quite late.”

“It’s 8 pm!” Winnie protested as her father shooed her away and slammed the door in her face. She could see her frown in the mirror hanging in the hallway. Speaking to her father always made her feel small and squirmish.

As she walked out to her balcony, she saw another shadow thrown by the streetlamp. She hadn’t been lying when she said she thought she saw a burglar. Starting to feel angry about her interaction with her father, she ran through the house and out the door, ready to give the person a piece of her mind. When she was out of the safety of her home and on the dark street, though, she wasn’t so sure.

She was about to turn around and go back inside when a noise caught her attention. Struggling with herself for a bit, curiosity finally won out and she hesitantly inched towards the side of her house. Peering around the corner, she spotted...a boy? “Are you GOING THROUGH MY GARBAGE?”

The boy yelped, scrambling away from the dumpster and into the light. She saw that he looked around her age, skinny as a stick with weird brown hair and a grubby face. “I-I was just lookin’ for spare parts!”

Winnie crossed her arms, all fear vanishing. “And who, praytell, are you?”

“...Eggs.” The boy said, conspicuously holding his hands behind his back.

Winnie scoffed. “Well Eggs , what are you hiding?” He hurriedly protested, before giving up and revealing three bottlecaps, two glass jars and some broken metal thing. Winnie wrinkled her nose. “What would you ever do with that junk?”

“I make things.” Eggs said simply.

Winnie found herself intrigued by the filthy boy. All the children at her private school conversed politely with her than whispered about her behind her back, but Eggs seemed honest, with a good heart. “My name is Winnie.” She said, curtseying before realizing that was probably weird. Eggs just awkwardly nodded, smiling crookedly. “Meet me here tomorrow afternoon. I’ll have some much better stuff for you.” Winnie said, turning and leaving before he had a chance to reply.

Chapter Text

School. It was a foreign concept to Eggs. He'd been home schooled since he was a baby, learning the important stuff like how to make things out of junk and how to play Extreme Hide and Seek. But this year Winnie had convinced him to go to the local middle school, promising him all rights to her trash, and so suddenly it was the first day of 7th grade.

Fish, his nickname for his adopted dad, had walked him to school (their town is so small nobody really needs cars) and thankfully they hadn't gotten hopelessly lost. Eggs scanned the crowd of strangers looking for Winnie, but no luck. “Will you be fine alone? Are you sure about this? I don't think this is safe.” Fish shied away from a passing boy.

“I’ll be fine Fish.” Eggs said soothingly. Though he was never lonely with all his relatives, he had always wondered what it would be like to have a friend his age. And now that he did, he wasn't about to lose it-- that was the real reason he was going to school.

“Eggs!” He looked up at the familiar voice, Winnie’s grinning face greeting him. “Come on, the bell is about to ring!”

“Bye Fish!” He called as he was dragged away.

“Bye Mr. Fish!” Winnie added.

“ Have fun!”

They ran through the halls, checking their papers every now and then. “Don't you know the way? You go here.” Eggs complained as they turned around again.

“Well...I went to a private school before. This is my first time here too.” Winnie admitted.

“Oh.” Eggs said, surprised.

A boy with spiky hair was coming out of the bathroom. “You there!” Winnie called. “Can you tell us where room 210 is?”

The boy looked around before pointing at himself. “Me?”

“Yes you.” Winnie rolled her eyes. She was always grumpy with strangers.

“Sorry, it's just...you must be new here.” The boy rubbed his arm.

“Evidently, which is why we’re asking you where room 210 is.” Winnie said impatiently.

“Um, I'm in that class too. Follow me.” He led the way and they fell into step beside him.

“What's your name?” Eggs asked, remembering a conversation starter Winnie had told him.

“Norman.” The boy said, looking at them in the corner of his eye.

“Winifred Portley-Rind.” Winnie said, lifting her head to stare down at him.

“Eggs.” Eggs added awkwardly.

“Those are funny names.” Norman said before slamming his mouth shut, looking regretful.

“I suppose someone with the name Norman would be quite normal, hmm?” Winnie said in a teasing manner.

Norman smiled in the way someone does when they have a secret. “I suppose I am quite normal.”

They stopped at a door with a little plaque reading 210. “And here we are.”

The second they sat down there was a loud BRIIIING and the teacher turned around. “Hello students, I am your World History teacher, Mr. Snatcher.” The man was fat with stringy brown hair and spindly legs. He spoke in a strange, leering way. Eggs immediately didn't like him.

“I will now do roll call!” Mr. Snatcher proclaimed dramatically before listlessly rattling off names. When it came to his name Mr. Snatcher paused, mouth wide. “Eggs Troll-Tru-Trubshaw?”

“Here!” Eggs said, having collected that that's what you're supposed to say from the students before him. “But you can just use ‘Troll’.”

The teacher looked up and zeroed in on him. Eggs was surprised to see a scowl form on his face. “Interesting name, ‘Trubshaw’. Whose side of the family is it?”

“N-Not sure, sir. I'm adopted.” Eggs said hesitantly. The man hadn't singled anyone else out on their name.

The class watched as Mr. Snatcher got red in the face before taking a deep breath and smoothing back his hair. “Class, take five to discuss the problems with Mr. Portley-Rind’s reign as mayor. I must schedule an emergency meeting.” He hurried out the door and immediately the kids ran to their friends, chatting about their summer.

Norman walked over to Eggs desk, where Winnie was already standing. “Eggs, do you know Mr. Snatcher?”

“No, I've never seen him before in my life.” Eggs said uncertainly, wondering if all school teachers were so weird.

“Well he sure seemed to know you.” Winnie said with a frown.