strawberry swing

there's someone walking towards the swing where vinyl and alice are seated, except it doesn't quite look like he's looking at them, not really, and something about him looks familiar in a way that's a bit creepy, as vinyl's sure she's never seen him before.

"vinyl?" he says, and she feels her blood freeze in her veins because she knows that voice, she swears to every god in existence that she knows it, that she heard it crying out from the back of a car driving away from her to the boy's orphanage, never to be heard again.

but it can't be rhythm, it can't be, and she can't let herself get her hopes up. except she kind of has, heart in her throat as she says, "am i supposed to know you?" she doesn't mean for it to come out sounding half strangled, doesn't mean for her words to come out choked and sounding so raw and terrified, but the thought that it's him, that she still has family that's living and well and here, the fact that her brother could very well be standing in front of her, after nine years of solitude and soul crushing loneliness.

she knows can't hope, she can't allow herself to get her hopes up. she knows that it's so, so unlikely that it's actually rhythm, it's probably someone baffled over her absurd name.

it's not worth it to get her hopes it, they'll just come crashing down. but gods, does she hope it's rhythm.

vinyl only distantly notices alice leaving, knows it happened but can't fully appreciate it because - gods. gods. she knows that voice, she knows that boy and she can't even breathe, gods.

"rhythm," she chokes out, too overwhelmed to even feel embarrassed as she feels herself start to tear up, a sob catching in her throat. "oh, gods, rhythm." she can't - she needs to touch him, needs to know he's real, that he's solid and concrete and not going to disappear. gods.

she runs towards him and flings her arms around his neck. he's here, he's real. she's missed him so much she couldn't breathe.

"i was so worried," she admits quietly, fingers trembling where they're curled into the cotton of his shirt, tears falling onto the skin of his neck where her face is buried. she's earned this moment of weakness, she's earned it just this once. it's been months since she let herself hope that rhythm would come to camp, since she let herself even look at the new campers who came into camp for fear of letting herself think that maybe her brother was among them. she can allow herself this, just this once, what lou and jodi and jude think be damned.

she tries to tell rhythm he shouldn't be sorry, that she's his big sister, and she's the one who should have found him. she should have been more careful with the pancakes, shouldn't have burned herself, shouldn't have let him convince her to make them in the first place. it's her job to look out for him. but she can't find the words, not when her thoughts are just a mash of static and 'he's alive, he's safe, he's okay.'

it's like she's spent her whole life with this uncertainty, this big question mark over where rhythm was supposed to be. she thought she'd live like that forever. she hasn't called herself a sister in years. she's not sure if she can even remember how to be one. she's never felt remotely connected to the other kids in the hypnos cabin.

"how - how long have you been here?" she asks, still not ready to let go. she's not entirely positive he's actually real, that this isn't some elaborate prank someone's decided to pull on her. she probably shouldn't have even let herself get her hopes up in the first place, but vinyl can't help it.