Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Stephanie coughed some of the dust out of her lungs. She had been there for a short while now. It had been something of an “initiation” her friends had put together; go to the spooky abandoned shelter and bring something back from inside, a simple in and out job, no need to be scared.

Something scittered nearby.

Nope. It was fine. Everything was fine.

No need to be afraid.

At all.

She shone her torch in the direction of the sound, just to be sure.

There was nothing there.

She had only moved into Lazytown a few days prior, her parents saying something along the lines of “outdoors and fresh air is what you need, being here isn’t going to do you much good!” So she was passed off to her Uncle Milford, a kind man who’d gladly taken her in despite the apparent suddenness of the situation. It was only after she’d met a few of her peers did she know about what was behind the billboard, the strange bunker on the edge of town once lived in by some sort of recluse; no one had gone in or out in years.

It was obvious, since none of the lights seemed to be working, hence why her friends had given her a torch. It made her wonder if they had been down there before or not. Maybe she was being their guinea pig for the afternoon, not that she really minded, it was a little exciting.

As long as she didn’t find a skeleton.

That wouldn’t be exciting.

There was a sudden thump, slight pain in her side, and another layer of dust entering her lungs. Lost in thought, she must have bumped her way into a table. Choking aside, hopefully there would be an impressive object there she could take back up the ladder to show her new friends. Lit up by the torch it was easier to see that it wasn’t just a table, but rather a workbench covered with an assortment of complex looking tools and machines. A smile stretched across her round face, wiping away the water gathered in her eyes at the unwelcome sensation in her throat, as she spotted something.

A simple box, perhaps some sort of jewellery box. Something like that would be “interesting to her new friends, wouldn't it? She carefully opened the lid, not wanting to face the wrath of any thicker layers of dust.

Inside wasn't too much, it seemed hardly used, but a haunting melody began to echo throughout the empty metal chamber. She watched the tiny ballerina that danced on the stage with a wonder filled grin, captivated by its complex movements and detailed, still face.

-----

She awoke with a start to the face of a stranger. A large man with a kind face, donned in blue from head to toe held her at an arm's length. She squinted a little at her now bright surroundings. It took Stephanie a good minute of being checked over to realise that her new friends were even there, standing back and observing with worried looks.
“Stephanie? Are you ok?” The man asked her once he noticed her awakening, a thick accent on his lips.

“U-Um?” She managed, bringing a hand up to rub her eyes. It was then she noticed she was still clutching onto the torch and the box, her knuckles white from the force. Consciously she relaxed herself, taking her time to sit herself back up on her own. “I think so,”

“We called and you didn't answer, and didn't come up for a long time so we got help!” Trixie chirped from behind the stranger. She was there with the rest of the kids Stephanie had met that day, Pixel, Stingy, and a young boy named Ziggy who didn't go to their school. “This is our friend Sportacus,” The blue man, Sportacus, smiled kindly at her, concern still showing clear in his eyes.

“He's super cool and strong,” Ziggy chimed in; Stephanie could see him bouncing on his toes. “Like a superhero!” At this Sportacus finally divided his attention from Stephanie, looking over at the youngest boy.

“He’s my babysitter,” Stingy seemed to ignore the looks and protest directed towards him at his body proclaimed statement. Pixel grinned at whatever expression Stephanie had at that moment.

“Our babysitter we were telling you about at lunch,” She felt her mouth go into an “o” shape in understanding. She managed to bring herself to her feet, with only a little steadying needed.

“Thanks so much for worrying about me,” She smiled sweetly, doing her best to mask how wrong something felt. Something so inherently off it shook her, sending shivers down her spine despite the pleasant temperature outside. “I think I want to go home now though,”

“Ah that's fine, we'll walk back with you,” A reassuring pat on the shoulder brought her rising nerves back to ground level. Still, despite the laughter and light chatter she and her new friends engaged in, Stephanie clutched tightly at the objects in her arms.

-----

By the time she got home it was sundown. She'd said goodbye to her new friends, a promise of checking in on her tomorrow, a Saturday. The box was still in her hands, seemingly unnoticed by most. Even her uncle, the Mayor, completely ignored it when he asked about her day.

She had only met them earlier that day, sharing a class with Stingy and Trixie. It was pretty obvious how much she stuck out among her classmates, a pink blob among a sea of brunettes and blondes. When she was sat near them it was only natural that they would try and talk to her. In the case of those two, it had been an argument, caused when Stingy had tried to claim the strange new student as his own.

It was then at lunch she was introduced to Pixel, older than them by only one year, but lived close enough to Trixie and Stingy that they had basically grown up together. Bright orange hair made him stand out from others like her, even ignoring the strange headset he was wearing. He had claimed to be a master of video games, inviting her over the next week for a few games with himself, Trixie, Stingy and another friend, Ziggy.

She'd met Ziggy after school, a young six year old boy that was babysat with them, close enough to the group to be called a friend. A cape tied around his neck, he claimed himself to be a superhero, just like his idol, Sportacus, even when he was chewing taffy like his life depended on it.

She had skillfully neglected to mention the little adventure to the bunker from her recount to her uncle, instead saying how she had been playing with her new friends before meeting Sportacus that way.

"Wow, that sounded fun!" Her uncle sounded as cheerful as he was that morning. Thankfully, he bought her half baked fib. "Dinner will be ready soon, Stephanie!"

It was then, when she had retreated to her room, she could finally begin to properly mull over what had happened in the bunker.

Setting down the music box on her pink sheets, she noticed how clean it suddenly looked. There has definitely been a thick layer when she had first found it, covering absolutely everything on that workbench, including herself after those few mishaps.

But now it was all gone.

The box was clean, her clothes were clean, not a speck of dust on anything. She was almost afraid of opening it, fearing a repeat scenario where she'd wake up in a different location without even knowing she'd fallen asleep. After the close inspection she settled on leaving the box on her bedside before sprawling herself out across the soft and inviting covers of her bed.

It occurred to her that she should probably tell someone about what had happened, but there weren't any adults that she really knew of. Her uncle was nice, but she wasn't sure as to what his reaction would be to her new friends having her go down into a potentially dangerous area and promptly passing out.

She paused her train of thought. It certainly sounded bad when put like that, but they'd gone and gotten help from someone, and presumably they could trust him enough with that sort of information.

Maybe she could trust Sportacus too.

Chapter Text

Stephanie had lived in this room for over a week now, and never had she felt like she belonged there less.

She turned over under the covers so that she faced where she knew the splotch on the pink painting that was her room was. It had been sat on the side for the past few days now. She’d gone to and from school, and every night it greeted her with that feeling of unease, of something really not being right about it. Although, that much was already obvious, with anyone who brought up what happened mentioning how it was kind of disappointing how they hadn’t uncovered any sort of treasure from the adventure, and how despite just sitting there out in the open, nobody once mentioned it when they walked into her room.

It had taken a lot of self restraint not to open it again. The mystery of what had happened on that night still haunted her, and she really didn’t want to risk a repeat incident.

Not that she could figure out what had happened, even after a few days to sit on it.

She had maybe fallen asleep, and something outside her control happened, causing her to wake up outside. On the other hand, she had completely forgotten what had occurred after she’d opened the box, which included somehow getting out of the dark room and then assumedly passing out.

She took a deep breath and crawled her way onto the floor. She was tired, no matter how much her sudden bursts of curiosity kept her awake. At least this way, she’d end up asleep whether or not the music box made her pass out. She climbed up her nightstand, kneeling so that she was eyelevel with it. It was dark, and of course harder to see than before but she took a breath.

When she opened it, Stephanie found the same pretty ballerina as before spinning around to the same sound. A relaxing tune she couldn’t quite place if she had in fact heard before encountering the box.

After a short while the music stopped. Stephanie had been staring the entire time determined not to fall asleep. It took her a moment to even realise the sudden stillness of the room. It felt almost as if something else had stopped, aside from the wind up toy. A strange feeling filled her being, urging her to do something. Something about the unsettling atmosphere that had settled itself around her.

She picked up the box, deciding she’d be much more comfortable falling asleep on her bed rather than on the floor should anything happen. Safe and comfortable again she twisted the box in her hands, getting a good feel of its shape as she searched it.

The corners weren’t sharp, but rather were rounded to avoid injury of any young children. The sides had an engraved pattern too complex for Stephanie to properly decipher. The stands on the bottom were also rounded, and gave enough room underneath for what she was looking for.

“Ah ha,” she muttered to herself, grasping at the small wind-up key. It was surprisingly smooth and easy to turn, something she wasn’t exactly expecting. She wound it to its limit before holding the box right side up once more.

Again, the ballerina sprung to life, spinning around and around as if nothing had stopped it before.

Around and around…

---

She had fallen asleep that night, the box having been closed by the time she woke. Her body felt stiff having slept for several hours while upright, concerning her uncle who had been the one to wake her.

He still didn’t see the box.

“Stephanie! Are you alright?” Her uncle doted as she stretched herself out, wincing as her aching muscles protested. “You know it isn’t safe to sleep like that!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” She chimed, still cheerful. She wouldn’t let some weird box ruin her day after all!

She had yet to talk to Sportacus about the strange happenings, having not found any time to properly speak with him away from the other kids. She had yet to make any more friends, if these ones were to abandon her from any reason (like a weird box that only she could see) then it would be awkward for them all.

Today was a Sunday and all homework had been done the day before with Sportacus’s help. He’d organised a little study group for them all at Stephanie’s house so that they could help each other with their work. He hadn’t been much help himself, instead keeping off to the side doing push ups and other various forms of exercise as if he had too much energy to burn. When he did try to offer assistance it rarely made sense and he often resorted to leaving to ask her uncle or his assistant.

To make up for all the sitting around and working they had done, Sunday was a day of football!

She had always been known as a whirlwind of energy by her parents. While dancing was her element, she couldn't deny how alive she felt, shoes smacking against the dirt, squealing as she put the effort into fancy footwork, keeping the ball away from the enemy.

“Pinky! Pinky! To me!”

Sportacus was on the opposing team this time. The other kids had decided from their first game that having them both on the same team was unfair. Not that Stephanie disagreed, the team with them paired had won every single match even with Sportacus toning down his play style.

“Trixie, no! That ball is MINE!”

Stephanie continued to run, giggling all the while as Trixie shot the ball with incredible aim. It sailed through the air, before being caught in the back of the net past Pixel’s head. He flinched at the sudden movement, clearly not being all there. Moments like that made Stephanie a little afraid to take him up on his offer to watch him play a “raid” while having a sleepover. She imagined not much sleep would actually be occurring.

“Pinky didja see that?” Trixie ran over to her pink friend, still hollering and whooping at their goal. Sportacus flipped from where he was to change the scoreboard, measured using one of Pixel’s notepads.

“Yeah Trixie that was great!” Stephanie couldn’t stop the grin on her face as the two girls jumped together in celebration, Ziggy yelling gleefully too from where he was at goal.

Then it hit her.

Something off putting, much like the silence of the music box.

It wasn’t exactly something she wanted to be thinking about at that moment all things considering but she couldn’t set it aside. The grin dropped from her face. It took only a second for Trixie to notice.

“Pinky? Steph, you ok?” Concern was written all over her face so suddenly and genuinely, but Stephanie couldn’t explain what was wrong.

“Stephanie?” Sportacus had taken notice now too, another impressive display of acrobatics as he made his way over to them. The other kids had a similar idea, and the whole thing suddenly became very overwhelming.

It wasn’t sinister, nothing scary or dangerous, just something like a voice in the back of her mind.

“It’s so noisy! Quiet down!”

---

Stephanie had returned home suddenly feeling the urge to stay quiet in her room. The children had backed off after some coaxing from Sportacus, an apology was given due to uneven team numbers. It was growing dark at that point anyway, and her team had won overall so they didn’t seem too upset.

She sighed again and stole a glance at the music box that was on her bedside table once again. She knew she hadn’t moved it there. It had been left on her bed that morning.

She threw her covers up and clamoured into bed, deciding that perhaps a lie down would make her feel better about everything that had happened. At least she’d had a comfortable spot to think it over.

Did she recognise the voice?

It was one of an older man, deep and dramatic. It definitely wasn’t her father's voice, and she didn’t think she had ever heard him say anything like that. Her father was cheerful and kind before he’d sent her off to live with his wife's brother.

It certainly wasn’t her uncle's voice, which was too mellow and the only similarity with Sportacus was a slight tinge of an accent. Not that she could tell if it was even the same one.

The next thought was that whoever it was they probably maybe had something to do with the music box.

She huffed and squinted her eyes in annoyance at the accursed object. It probably was cursed. Cursed to make her sleep and plague her thoughts and make her hear creepy invisible voices as revenge for disturbing it's home.

---

The ethereal glow in the middle of the room had her undivided attention.

Stephanie had only woken up a moment ago, having fallen asleep once again without warning. The melody was playing again, box in her hands once more. However, how the box was there, opened and playing wasn't at the forefront of what she wanted to know, although she now had a pretty solid idea.

A girl, as pretty as the wooden one, was dancing at the foot of her bed, transparent and emitting a soft purple light.

Chapter Text

For a long while Stephanie couldn’t speak.

It wasn’t something one saw often after all, a stranger in their room, one around their age no less. She had a round face and her hair tied into pigtails was obviously meant to be dark even with all of the girls colours balancing out.

Ballet had never been one of Stephanie's greatest passions in regards to her dance, but she felt an odd feeling of contentedness in just watching the stranger perform. Graceful leaps, dizzying spins, gravity defying bends and stretches… She took a brief moment to consider how having abilities like that would affect her own types of dancing.

The ballerina glanced her way the moment the music grinded to a slow halt, offering a curtsey and a nod. The blank stare did nothing to calm the pink girl's nerves, but still she did her best to be polite rewarding the girl with a quiet applause.

The moment she let go of the box, she vanished.

Silence.

“Ah…” Stephanie broke it, hesitantly placing her hands back where they were. The girl stood and continued to stare, so she offered a hopefully appreciative smile. “T-That was really good,” She watched her grin grew gleeful at the verbal complement. Suddenly her hands began to move in a fast and excited manner before stopping and repeating the last motion a few times, clearly expecting some kind of response from Stephanie.

When it was obvious that she wasn’t going to get one, her face dropped and she spun around heading towards one of the drawers.

“I- ah- I’m really sorry,” Stephanie could only stammer as she watch the stranger try to rummage through her belongings. It didn’t look very easy, as her hands would phase through anything she tried to touch, only occasionally making contact. Finally she had apparently found what she was looking for, holding a small pink notebook and matching pen as if her existence depended on it.

As far as Stephanie could tell it was empty, one of the newer ones she owned given as a birthday present from one of her friends from home. But soon the ballerina was writing furiously in it. After a moment the open page was being shoved in Stephanie's face.

Thank you I’m very glad you enjoyed!

“Ah that’s alright! Can you maybe tell me your name?”

Rottenella

“Oh, that’s a funny name! I mean, I knew an Ella before I moved here,” The strange girl pulled a face Stephanie couldn’t place the meaning for, so she quickly moved on, “So, what were you doing with your hands before?”

Another moment of intense scribbling.

Sign language I'm mute

“Oh I’ve heard of that before,” Stephanie watched as the pen fell through Rottenella’s hand and clattered against the floor. The notebook followed soon after. Frustration fell over her face as she did her best to retrieve them again.

Stephanie rubbed her eyes, sleep trying to take her back over. This was some weird dream that she was having. Strange mute girls in her bedroom dancing to that crummy music box. That was probably what was causing this whole scenario. She really had to get someone to have a look at it for her-

Her thoughts were interrupted by another page shoved into her face with urgency.

I need help I left something in the bunker

“Oh really?” Being jerked awake again was dizzying to say the least. What time was it anyway? She did her best to stifle a yawn as Rottenella nodded frantically. “I can help you don’t worry about it,”

“Stephanie?”

Both girls jumped at the Mayor's sudden appearance in the doorway. The notepad and pen quickly fell once more, this time landing on the

“What did I tell you yesterday about sitting up to sleep like that?” He lay her down and tucked her in, the box still cradled in her arms. “You have school tomorrow this is no time to be talking to yourself,”

“Sorry uncle, I'll go to sleep straight away,”

It was a little harder to go back to sleep when she knew someone was watching over her.

---

She hadn’t expected the girl to still be there when she woke up.

Rottenella was still there, a purple paint splatter against a canvas of pink, dancing away to no sound at all. Stephanie could do nothing but sit and stare for as good few moments.

She then hesitantly took her hands away from the music box.

She disappeared.

She put them back.

She was now halfway across the room, twirling without a care in the world.

The first conclusion she came to was that maybe the girl was a ghost. But Rottenella seemed so nice and nothing like the scary stories Trixie liked to tell. But her uncle wasn’t able to see her, so the next possible conclusion was that she was a very interactive and realistic imaginary friend she came up with in her stress. After all, why would she be only visible to her? Either way it didn’t exactly seem to be something she could freely discuss with people.

Rottenella only stopped at the sound of her uncle calling Stephanie down for breakfast. The girl just looked over at her before sinking through the floor.

It didn’t feel like a nice thought, but the room felt lighter once she left.

She took her hand away from the music box, wondering for a moment how safe she would feel going downstairs knowing that someone was there who she couldn’t see anymore. Of course, if Rottenella had such a prominent inability to get drawers to function consistently then it would be similar for other objects, right? Like the notebook and pen!

Speaking of the notebook, it was still resting on her bed, open. She picked it up, scanned the page and read:

Thank you