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Your name is Rose Lalonde and you’re supposed to be a lot of things. You are a vengeful and curious creature who tears apart the world until it bends to your want. As the Seer of Light, you simply know. And if you’re being honest, knowing all the time is rather tiring. You have carefully cultivated a reputation amongst your friends as the fabled “brain cell”, the one who always has answers because you seek them out nonstop while some of them are content to just go with the flow and enjoy themselves instead of always looking for something better. It’s what's always expected of you, both by the universe at large and the people you surround yourself with.
But tonight, you are very much the opposite of that calm and haughty Seer of Light persona. And you feel very ashamed about that fact. Which is why you’re currently hiding in the closet in Jade’s guest bedroom, so your friends can’t find you.
It would disappoint them greatly to see you like this. Huddled in a small ball, clutching your legs to your chest, hot tears streaming down your face. It stings your eyes, blurs your vision, and ruins your makeup. Your hands are shaking and your nose is running.
You must be an absolute fucking mess right now, and wouldn’t that be a funny sight. Rose Lalonde, bawling her eyes out like she’s a child. Honestly, you don’t have it in you to care. You feel like a small child. You’re so scared and you want your mom, even though you know she isn’t here. Has been gone for years.
Get a grip, Lalonde.
You are very much not in a position to get a grip.
To make yourself feel better, you start singing a nursery rhyme she would occasionally serenade you with before she tucked you into bed…back when she actually was capable of being a somewhat decent parent. Before she really delved into the hellish realm of alcoholism and left healthy mother-daughter bonding activities to the wayside.
“Los pollitos dicen,” you sing to yourself in a shaky voice. “Pío, pío, pío…”
It is not helping. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to think of little yellow chicks running around in a grassy field on a warm and sunny day.
“Cuando tienen hambre, cuando tienen frio...”
What came next? You actually don’t remember. You emit a choked up whine and the tears start falling once more. Your Spanish is shaky and clumsy, a sad result of having very limited time to practice the language in your old home before it was destroyed.
And great, now you miss your mom even more. Which gets you thinking about the booze. Which gets your heart racing and you rocking back and forth violently in Jade’s closet as you sob and bawl. You knock over a shoebox which sets off a symphony of distant voices downstairs and you bite back a scream because wow, you just can’t do anything right today, can you?
You need a drink. But you don’t want a drink. You’re scared to have a drink. Drinking calls to you and you hate it. Which is why right now, you suddenly hate your friends. They know this. You have told them over and over and over again. And what do they do?
Stop! Your friends aren’t bad people. They simply…forgot. Right? Especially since it’s John who mainly organized the joint Harlenglish birthday party. He doesn’t always register these kinds of things, especially since he wasn’t really there when you were forced to confront your addiction, and he can still be a tad insensitive after all this time. You can’t really hold it against him, and that’s what makes you upset because you are angry and nobody understands.
So you’ll just hide in here until everybody forgets about you and goes home. Then you’ll sneak out the window while Jade is sleeping. A stupid plan, but in your frantic head, the only one you’ve got. If you were so emotionally charged, if you were actually rational like everyone expects of you, then you’d be more capable of handling this on your own.
“I’m scared,” you say into the cramped closet. Nobody hears you. That’s fine. You didn’t want them to anyways. Still doesn’t change the fact that you’re scared. You want to go home. You want a hug. You want to sleep. You want-
“Um…Rose?”
You freeze instantly. Your throat is dry and your tongue glues itself to the roof of your mouth. You don't exactly recognize the voice. It must be one of those trolls that John and Terezi worked together to resurrect, one of the ones that apparently died on the meteor before you and Dave came to town.
Point is, you don’t recognize his name. Which only adds to the fear coursing through you, because someone actually found you. At least it’s not Dave, John, or Jade. That would make you feel even worse. If it’s a stranger, at least you don’t have as far to fall from grace. They didn’t get a chance to get to know the facade you made yourself. They’ll just assume you’re always this pathetic, and leave you alone once the disgust has time to properly settle in.
“Hey?” the voice continues. It seems as uncertain as you feel. “Are you in this room? If not, um, I’ll just check the next one.”
Clumsy-sounding footsteps move ever so closer, and your heart rate practically doubles. Your breathing grows harder and harder until you’re practically gasping for air. Your chest is tight. You can’t breathe.
“Rose!” And then the footsteps practically run to the closet door and yank it open. A troll with robotic legs and long horns glances down at you in horror. “Are you okay?”
What do you think!? You want to snap. Does it look like I’m anywhere near a facsimile of okay!?
You say nothing. Instead you wail.
Tavros (that’s his name! Tavros!) looks at you sadly before awkwardly bending down so he’s at your height. The robotic legs make the difference in your statures extra hilarious. You’re not sure why you’re focusing on that right now. Maybe it’s because you don’t want to slip back into reality.
“Why are you in the closet?” Tavros asks, cocking his head to the side. “How did you even get in here anyways? Um, there’s not really a ton of room.”
You shrug in response, scooting over as much as possible so Tavros can sit down next to you. There still isn’t enough room so he just chooses a spot on the floor in front of you. Then he waits for you to provide an answer.
You choke on your own voice. All you manage to sputter out is the word “...sca-scared…”
“Scared?” Tavros repeats. He sounds almost resigned, as if he understands all too well. “Well, um…okay. I get that sometimes, being around a lot of people who all seem, like, super cooler than you…uh, yeah…it is kinda scary?”
“No,” you hiss, then feel a sense of shame at your tone. “Not…not that.”
Tavros blinks. “Oh. Well, heh, that was quite silly of me to make an assumption. I guess…but what is it, then?”
Are you really going to tell him? You want to snap at Tavros to fuck off and let you stew in your misery, but he already knows something is up anyways. “Alcohol,” you mutter, hoping he takes the hint.
“Alcohol?” Tavros pronounces the word strangely, more like “al-ca-hall”, which makes you realize he has no clue what you’re talking about. “What’s that?”
“It’s…” you huff. “It’s something you drink, and it causes you to behave differently when you ingest too much of it.” A shitty definition, but you’re not in the mood to be more specific. “I can’t have it. They were supposed to remember…but they didn’t.”
Tavros nods. “Ah. Like the sopor pies that Gamzee used to make. Am I right? Kinda?”
“Well, there is some connotation.” You shrug. “I suppose the effects might be similar depending on the person or troll. But…I’ve been clean for almost two years. They know I can’t drink alcohol. But they brought it anyway. I couldn’t be around it. I can’t. I don’t want to…”
It seems to click for Tavros. “Oh. Well, um. That makes sense. My friends tend to say that addiction is a powerful thing so I kinda get it. Did you, y’know, tell your friends about the…”
You shrug, because you think the answer to that is a pretty obvious one. No, Tavros. No you didn’t. Tavros takes the hint and guiltily sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh. Right. That’s very dumb of me. Um, I’m usually not this stupid, I promise.”
“I can’t go back down there.”
“Why not?” Tavros asks, so innocently. “They’re your friends too, right? Wouldn’t they understand?”
You shake your head. You don’t know. You feel so hurt that nobody remembered, not even Jade, or John, or your girlfriend, or your own family. At the same time, you can’t help but bear some responsibility. Maybe you didn’t make it obvious enough, didn’t speak up enough, didn’t provide enough reminders, just in case. It’s your fucking fault, isn’t it. Nice one, dumbass.
Suddenly, coarse skin is touching yours as Tavros rests his palm on top of your hand. “Hey, um, Rose. I can call you Rose, right?”
“Sure.”
“Listen, I…” Tavros takes a deep breath, then tries to smile at you. “I uh, know how it feels. A little bit. Kinda. Um, I never really had al-ca-hall before, so I can’t totally relate to you. But Vriska would, y’know, always make comments about me and everything.”
You just listen, looking for any escape from your current situation. Tavros sighs, as if remembering a time you can’t possibly hope to understand. “But wanna know something I learned? I don’t have to take it!” He laughs nervously. “I could just get up and walk away. It was scary, yeah. But I could do it. And I felt so brave when I found out.”
You make a face. “How could you possibly imply I’m brave right now?”
“I mean, it is pretty brave to walk away from something that you know is bad for you.”
He does have a point there.
You groan as you claw at your cheeks with your hands. “I feel so fucking stupid. I have this reputation, you know. I’m supposed to be the ‘smart one.’” You remove your hands from your face and make air quotes with your fingers. “Everyone looks to me to have a plan because I always convey this air of superiority and maturity. Dave was always the one who talked about his problems without issue, and it’s pretty obvious he has a host of them just by looking at him, so I suppose that helps his case. If he breaks down, it can be expected. But…with me…everything seemed fine…and…”
Tavros looks saddened. You don’t understand why. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, sheepishly.
You try not to feel insulted. “Why? It’s not like you’re waving the booze around in front of my face.”
“I know, but…well…I feel sorry that you’re alone and you can’t really talk to anyone about it.” Tavros shakes his head. “It’s a really crappy position to be in.”
“Yeah,” you mumble. “It really is.”
Tired of the closet, you move to stand up. But your legs are a little cramped. Tavros reaches forward to steady you before you can faceplant into the dresser, helping you up and to the bed. You both sit down on it.
“Do you want to talk about it some more?” Tavros asks.
Heh. Loaded question. Because you simultaneously do and don’t and you’re not really sure which side is winning out. You give it some thought, and decide in favour of the former. You’re too much of a mess to put those walls back up anyways. And Tavros will likely just see through them. You don’t think he’s stupid. Not like what Vriska says.
“I wish I could be angry at them,” you admit. “But I’m more angry at myself.”
Tavros nods, head cocked towards you.
“Because I know if I go back there, I run a high chance of relapsing. I have nobody but myself to blame for that. It’s not their fault that I’m so weak. And I don’t want to relapse. I want to stay clean.” Oh God, rest in peace to the floodgates. Here comes the crying again. “I don’t want-”
Whatever was supposed to come after that turns into a mess of hot tears as you shove your face into Tavros’s shirt and continue to sob. You cling onto him like a lifeline because you so desperately don’t want to be alone anymore.
“Shoosh,” Tavros whispers gently, rubbing little circles on your back. “Shoooooosh. It’s okay, Rose. We don’t have to go back downstairs.”
“I’m sorry,” you whimper, like a child who got caught with her hand in the cookie jar. You’re not really sure what the metaphorical cookie jar is. You just feel awful and guilty.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of. You’re being so strong.” Tavros lets out a little light but nervous chuckle. “I wish I could be as strong as you.”
“I’m not strong.”
“You are.”
“No I’m not.”
Tavros carefully pulls back from you so you can look him in the eye. “Rose. This whole ‘comforting’ thing doesn’t really work if, y’know, you keep fighting me on it.”
That manages to snap you out of your funk for a brief second. “What a brazenly blatant pale solicitation we have here, sir!” Your voice wavers a little, but Tavros is kind enough not to notice. “Normally, I’d ask to be taken out to dinner first.”
Instead, he blinks in confusion. “Oh. Do you not…like it? I can leave…if I made you feel awkward. Um, I’m still learning a lot about human customs after I kinda messed up with Jade…”
You lean back into his touch, hoping it says enough. “I don’t wanna be alone right now,” you admit. “Can you stay with me? And we can just cuddle or something on the bed? If that’s okay?”
“Oh!” Tavros gasps. “I mean, um…sure? I didn’t want to…um…be a bother or anything…”
You shake your head. “Tavros, you’re the only person- er, troll that came to check up on me. And I really don’t want to be alone anymore because I’ve already spent enough time bawling my eyes out in a shitty closet full of garbage. God, Jade needs a yard sale badly.”
Tavros giggles. “Well, um, maybe we can bring that up with her later. Once you feel like going downstairs.”
Sounds nice to you.
Tavros lets you rest in his arms, continuing to rub your back in an obscenely pale gesture that would make Karkat lose his shit if he saw. He’s quite warm and smells faintly of grass. You don’t mind that at all. It’s grounding. A distraction from your worries and fears, a reminder that you aren’t alone and have never been.
You’re going to be okay.
“Thank you, Tavros,” you whisper into his jacket. Tavros makes almost a purring sound that sends a calming warmth jolting through your body. You two stay like this for almost an hour, until the sounds of conversation downstairs gradually die out and Jade comes in to send you both home.