Needful Things Building; Monday

[totalwildcard]

The Dream House was gone by morning, replaced again with the antique store and the apartment above it, both with all four walls intact, and the color scheme decidedly less pink.

And in said apartment, late in the morning, Harley woke up with a start. Like fully bolting upright and everything, with a gasp.

"... Barbie looks like me."

She couldn't believe it. She brought her hands up to her face, smooshing her cheeks.

"Like me."

This jaw! These cheekbones under her skin!

Something about it was making her eyes well up.

At least, until something else about the weekend came back to her. "Bruce!" Oh, God, he'd been eating something obviously plastic, all weekend long! Harley scrambled out of bed to find him - only to, yes, find him curled up in one of his usual spots, seemingly right as rain.

She still ended up taking him on a long walk around town. It took a while for her to be convinced that just as magically as he'd turned into a toy dog for the weekend, whatever the plastic stuff he'd been eating (and, to be fair, pooping out at what seemed like an alarming rate for a fully functioning gastric system) had just as magically turned into actually edible stuff in his guts when he'd turned back. He seemed fine! He was leaving behind dog shit that was the usual level of disgusting!

Still, between the long walk and then breakfast for both him and herself, the morning had already turned into the afternoon by the time something occurred to Harley, and sent her bolting down the stairs into the store.

There, she found the display of dolls of varying ages and kinds.

And there, tucked near the back, was a Barbie. Harley carefully pulled her out from between a Victorian-ish porcelain doll and a fairly creepy 1950s baby, and smiled down at her.

It was a little watery, but there was no one here to see it, was there?

"Oh, there you are."

Something in her chest ached a little.

(expecting one!)

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

Marc thought of the picture of Harley he'd seen last time he was there. That younger version who had missed out on a lot.

"Little too hard to come by, huh? Love?"

[totalwildcard]

Harley just nodded, keeping her gaze cast down. It wasn't obvious how hard she was biting on the inside of her bottom lip. Well, to no one but her, anyway, because she could feel the sting of it.

That was sorta the point.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc figured she'd just gone quiet. He silently held an arm out, offering to hold her if she wanted.

[totalwildcard]

Too bad Harley's vision was going all kinds of blurry right then.

She tried to blink it away, but when that didn't work, she was forced to bring her free hand up to wipe at her eyes. It was... not nearly as subtle as she hoped it was. "Aw, geez."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc went for a compromise solution and put his hand on her arm. Just letting her know he was there.

[totalwildcard]

It brought on another classic Harley move: a whine and a squirm like she was going to pull away, only for the motion to transform into her turning her whole body towards him until she thumped gently against his chest.

And stayed there.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc put his arms around her. Not yet holding tight tight, in case she wasn't into it. But holding her.

"I gotcha."

[totalwildcard]

Harley rewarded him with another 'eugh' sort of noise, leaning pretty heavily against him.

"I dunno why it's getting to me this much," she mumbled. Even though she kind of did.

She'd even pretty much said why, already.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc took the lean as a cue to hold her tighter.

"It got to you, so what?" Marc said. Not dismissing her emotions, rather the idea that it was bad for her to have them. "Shit gets to us sometimes. It's okay. It happens."

[totalwildcard]

"You're one to talk."

A classic re-direct, and yet also true!

[hasaknightjob]

"Always am," Marc replied. Because he was sometimes self aware. "Anyway, it's your turn."

[totalwildcard]

Harley made more noises of protest, but they were a little half-hearted. One of her hands continued to clutch the doll, but her other arm slid around him in return, finally.

"Just --" she tried, but didn't get much further before a pause, groping for words. "She's perfect. She's literally perfect, that's her whole deal, that's how she was made. By people! In a factory!"

[hasaknightjob]

"Perfect, and she looks like you," Marc said. "Somebody thought you were perfect."

[totalwildcard]

"Yeah."

Oh, good, she sounded very choked up about it again. But that was only because her eyes were welling up about it again!

Totally fine.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc rubbed her back with one hand. "As you are. No change needed."

[totalwildcard]

"I just... I can't believe it, yanno?" Harley mumbled, sounding increasingly like she was crying. Pretending to herself she wasn't, though, which had to count for something, right? "And I know I ain't supposed to care. I don't need validation from society or from a toy made for kids."

And yet.

[hasaknightjob]

Marc moved his other hand up to stroke Harley's hair. "Don't need doesn't mean it's not nice to have."

[totalwildcard]

Harley sounded like she wanted to object and protest some more.

But instead, what came out was a muffled, teary wail of, "And it's so nice to have!"

[hasaknightjob]

Marc's heart - well had an emotion, for a start. But the emotion in this case was an ache on Harley's behalf.

"I'm glad," he said, quietly. "That you have it."

[totalwildcard]

You know what?

Harley was just going to take a moment to give in and ugly cry here for a bit, if that was fine with him.

At least it was over something good?

[hasaknightjob]

That was okay with Marc. He didn't mind if his shirt got wet. He was just going to hold Harley tight and keep stroking her hair. She could take as long as she needed.

[totalwildcard]

That was good, because Harley was about as dramatic about this as she was about many of her feelings. And the front of his shirt was most certainly getting wet.

Her shoulders shook, and she clung to him a little harder.

[hasaknightjob]

"I gotcha," Marc said. Quiet. Not interrupting her, just reassuring. "Whatever you need, Doc. I gotcha."

[totalwildcard]

"You're not a Ken."

It made sense to Harley, okay?

Also her voice sounded all garbled with the tears, it was great.

[hasaknightjob]

"Lotta confusion on that one," Marc said.

Okay with the one person, but that still represented a significant percentage of Marc's socializing over the weekend.