Archive of Our Own ^beta

Fanny doesn’t know why she’s here.

One had brought her back, and no matter how furiously Fanny had pushed, there had been no explanation. The only things the Algebrailian offered were a faraway look in her eyes and the feeling of power hanging in the air, overwhelming and crawling along Fanny’s skin. From there, it hadn’t been too hard to figure it out.

One had won. She has everything she wants now. So why is Fanny here? She’s not naive enough to think One actually wants her. All the Algebrailian has ever done is play with her and her feelings, constantly teetering on the verge of tearing Fanny apart. At this point, she can’t help but hope that when it happens, she’s never brought back.

What’s there even left for her, anyway? The world has ended. Everything is dark and dead, with everyone she knows either dead along with it or unreachable in Two’s head. All she has is One. Always One. She’d rather die forever than be rendered helplessly dependent on the Algebrailian, coping with any hurt or tears so long as it means she won’t be alone. She has pride, or something like it. She won’t just…

But it’s too late. It’s been too late for a long time. The moment One started spiriting Fanny away for the sake of indulging her own curiosity, the moment Fanny found herself feeling flustered and dizzy under One’s watchful eye, the moment she curled up in One’s lap and was saddled with the realization that it felt like she belonged there, horribly small yet feeling impossibly warm, she was long gone.

Everything is gone. Her last vestiges of restraint, of sanity, might as well go with it.

For the last few minutes, One has been pacing back and forth, mumbling under her breath. She keeps checking her blackboard and flipping channels on the TV, the roar of static being the only thing to cut through One’s murmurs. It’s like she doesn’t even acknowledge that Fanny’s there at all. What’s the point of being brought back in the first place? She would take being played with, tears stinging at her eyes as she’s left feeling so impossibly small, to being ignored entirely.

It’s like One is bored of her already. And when One is the only person left in the world, or might as well be, that’s the last thing Fanny could ever want. She wants One’s eyes on her. Needs it, maybe. She hates her dependence just as much as she hates being ignored.

Abruptly, One whirls to her, her eyes wide and wild as she stares intensely at Fanny. There’s something manic about her. Unrestrained. “There isn’t anything wrong with you, is there?” she says bluntly, and Fanny can’t help but furrow her brow, the beginnings of a grimace settling onto her face.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she hisses in reply, tightly wrapping her cord around her legs in the absence of any other comforts.

“When I brought you back,” she elaborates. “You came back right, right? There isn’t anything missing, you don’t have brain damage, things like that.”

“If I didn’t have brain damage, I wouldn’t be here, because I wouldn’t be dumb enough to end up like this in the first place,” Fanny insists, her cord lashing back and forth as she narrows her eyes in a glare.

“Cute,” One says dismissively, not even bothering to smile wryly as she looks away from Fanny to study her blackboard again. “But if you’re able to say things like that, you must have come back well enough. Of course, there’s a difference from reviving an object to reviving…” She looks at something and presses her mouth into a thin line. “I still need more,” she whispers. “I need to take back what’s mine.”

Is this all this was? Just a test to make sure One could revive people without problem? Fanny feels her cheeks heat, an ashamed and used feeling flaring in her gut. But what can she do against One? Everything she’s ever known is gone. She’s known for a while not to handle One lightly, but this brings a different kind of grief with it.

“I hate you,” she whispers, tears stinging the corners of her eyes.

One stiffens, slowly turning her attention from the blackboard to Fanny, her pupils, etched onto her sickly yellow-tinted eyes, the size of pinpricks. “What was that?” she says innocently, tilting her head as she smiles to reveal jagged fangs curling around her lips.

“You heard me,” she says quietly yet defiantly in retort, jutting out her chin.

“I don’t think I did!” she replies, letting out a manic bark of laughter as she stalks toward Fanny. “Because you couldn’t have said you hated me, not when I brought you back to life and kept you that way. Not when I saved you from suffering in that dilapidated ruin you call a world. Not when I gave you the mouth that lets you utter those words in the first place!”

“I don’t owe you anything!” Fanny furiously insists. “You have everything you’ve ever wanted-”

“Not everything!” One yells, cutting Fanny off. “Not everything.” She’s silent, gasping for breath, before something wretched flashes in her eyes. The power circling around her, round green and spiky blue, briefly flares as she begins to laugh.

…And laugh, and laugh, and laugh. Each peel of laughter is tinged with as much mania as it is bitterness, and Fanny can’t help but cringe as she ducks her head, something acrid pooling in her gut. She’s misstepped somewhere, she always does when it comes to trying to stand up to One, and all she can do is hope it won’t hurt too much when One inevitably strikes back.

“Everything I’ve ever wanted?!” she says between furious cackles, practically doubled over. “Are you serious?! If I had that, I wouldn’t be here! I wouldn’t be…” And as she trails off, all of the mirth abruptly drains from her body like it had never been there in the first place, and it’s such an abrupt shift that Fanny can’t help but hold her breath. “...alone.” she numbly finishes, her eyes so wide yet hollow that Fanny can’t help but feel as if she’ll fall in if she looks too deeply.

Gritting her teeth, One turns away from Fanny, grabbing the table that had the paper Fanny had signed her life away on so long ago and raising it to the air. With just a groan of effort, the table shatters into shards of wood and splinters that go flying across the clearing, and Fanny flinches, ducking her head.

“It’s not fair!” One cries, her voice reedy and plaintive, and she reaches for a nearby bookshelf only to shatter that too. It’s so childish, so uncharacteristic, that Fanny can’t help but shy away from One entirely, unable to hide the fear slowly spreading across her face. She wields all of this power like an old friend, but she’s so forceful with it, so intense, that Fanny can’t help but wonder what will happen when she encounters someone she has a greater grudge against rather than taking out her frustrations out on whatever furniture is in reach.

With this power, anything can happen, good or bad. And if Fanny tries to speak up instead of biting her tongue, which she’s gotten so disturbingly used to doing, her past self would be ashamed of her, who knows how One would react. She thinks of the myriad of possible painful deaths she could suffer, and she’s afraid. It’s such a shameful feeling, especially when the feeling of love doesn’t go away even now. She hates herself.

As Fanny slowly moves back, One’s eyes snap to her. “What’s with that look on your face, huh?!” she yells with a strangled laugh. “Are you afraid?” As she speaks, she launches a bit of the bookshelf toward Fanny’s feet, and Fanny rockets back with a yelp.

“Of course I am!” she calls in reply, her tone frazzled and strained. It’s like One is barely seeing her at all, the Algebrailian’s beady eyes unfocused. “What is your problem?!”

“My problem?!” One echoes. “My problem is that I’m alone, and you just-” She shakes her head. “Goddamn it!” She stomps a foot against the ground, and the earth trembles like an earthquake had rocketed through the area.

“You aren’t alone, I’m still here!” she futilely insists.

“I’m always alone!” she retorts, and with the scream comes a rush of lightning peeling off of One’s body, crackling through the air. She doesn’t even seem to realize its presence, even as Fanny is reminded, inanely, of Lightning.

“One, what the hell are you-?!” she sputters, her cord lashing behind her as she stands as straight as she can manage. Maybe it’s the power, carrying a heady feeling hanging in the air and threatening to choke her, but One feels even more unstable, even more dangerous, then she usually does. She scrambles back, her eyes wide, as One whirls around with an intense, animalistic glint in her eyes. It’s nauseating.

“Don’t!” One shrieks, her voice echoing throughout the vast clearing. “Don’t run away! Don’t look at me like that! Don’t leave me!”

Fanny stops in her tracks at the sound of the pure, frenzied desperation in One’s voice. She’s so… vulnerable. So uncomposed. The sight of the frazzled expression on her face makes Fanny feel like she’s seeing something she shouldn’t.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she quietly replies. “Where can I even go? It’s all over, and it’s your fault.”

Somehow, that seems to make One even more upset as she flinches backward, her eyes flashing with something intense. “No!” she spits, gasping for air. “It’s not my fault, I didn’t mean to!”

“What do you mean you didn’t mean to?!” Fanny shrieks, her cord thumping against the ground in a discordant rhythm. “You planned all of this, from the crack in the sky to-”

“Stop it, stop it!” One screams out in demand, and the air briefly swells with power that makes Fanny’s skin prickle with goosebumps and her cord hang uncertainly in the air. There’s a heavy, electric feeling that makes itself known with every breath, and it just grows stronger and stronger with One’s rapidly shifting emotions.

Fanny genuinely considers whether all of the power has scrambled One’s brain. Maybe there isn’t any trace left of the conniving, cruel Algebrailian that took Fanny’s heart in the same breath she gave Fanny a mouth. Maybe it’s been swept away in the hazy reverie of megalomania. Just what is One feeling? What is she seeing?

“I’m not going to be alone, not again, not again,” One chants under her breath like a furious mantra.

“One, stop it, you’re-” Fanny stammers as she scrambles back, not trusting the Algebrailian enough to be close to her.

“Stop! Don’t you dare leave me, Three!” One roars, and Fanny’s too shocked to even breathe for a second.

Suddenly, it all makes sense. The way One had been looking at Fanny like she hadn’t truly seen her, the desperate, wild way she paced about the clearing, her instability and fear only seeming to be amplified by the power that crackled in the air around her. The way she had said things that almost clicked, but the full meaning eluded her. One wasn’t doing any of this for Fanny at all. She was just… wrapped up in her memories.

There is just one more question. “...Who’s Three?” she says slowly, knowing she’s going to regret asking the question the moment the consequences for it make themselves known, but she can’t not ask.

One blanches at the question, and finally, her eyes focus on Fanny, meeting her eyes. She begins to hyperventilate even as she tries to hide it, taking a few desperate steps back. “No,” she whispers. “I-I thought…” She stares down at her feet, and suddenly, she’s quiet. Fanny can’t help but hold her breath. One is never quiet. And when she is… it’s bad.

After a few seconds, though, One still hasn’t said anything. Slowly, Fanny sidles forward. Just one hesitant step at first, the sound of her footfall far too loud against the grass, but One doesn’t even twitch at the sound. Emboldened, Fanny creeps forward more and more, counting each footstep. Seven, eight, nine… Just how much Algebrailians are there, anyway? What are they like?

How did they hurt One? How has One hurt them?

Fanny keeps moving forward until she meets One’s side. Slowly, tentatively, she leans against One, and the Algebrailian jolts backward at the touch. “Fanny…” she whispers, her brow furrowed. The numb expression slowly lifts from her face, replaced with hunger, as she leans forward. “I suppose I forgot.”

“Forgot what?” Fanny whispers, craning up her neck to meet One’s eyes. There’s a warmth to this, almost. But like always with One, it’s about waiting for the other shoe to drop. When will the warmth melt to cold, icy pain?

“That you love me,” One coos, her tone matter-of-fact. Fanny flinches but doesn’t try to deny it. What can she even say?

Instead, she grits her teeth. “Did Three love you?” she asks. She doesn’t even know what this other hypothetical Algebrailian would even look like. It’s just strange, imagining One being happy with anyone. In Fanny’s mind, she’s always been cold, calculating, and unimaginably bitter. Seeing an emotion as innocent as love on her face… It just doesn’t compute in Fanny’s mind.

One flinches, but tries to cover it up with a smirk. “What, are you jealous?” she returns in a low purr.

“No,” Fanny says bluntly, and this, at least, is honest. “I just want to know.”

Silence hangs in the air for a moment. “No,” One says, and she sounds pained by the admission. “Three didn’t love me. Not…” She trails off, but Fanny can guess what she’s getting at.

“Not in the way you loved them?” Fanny offers.

Anger flares in One’s eyes, and of course she doesn’t admit it, but the silence feels like confession enough.  “I messed up,” she finally says. “Even if she hurt me first. But it’s okay.” There’s something desperate about her as she holds Fanny closer, and Fanny can’t even savor the proximity. “I’m going to fix it. I’m going to fix everything.”

“And then…?” she asks. Fanny’s never once wondered if One’s future will have any room for her. Of course it won’t. But she would like to know what’s coming after. When One inevitably gets bored, when all of her goals are met.

“And then she’ll have to love me,” One says, her voice an odd mix of reverent and bitter. “They all will. But Three will be mine.” She lets out a manic giggle as she rolls back and forth on her heels. 

She has to resist the urge to say “But I thought I was yours,” desperate and pathetic as she clings to this vague approximation of love. Instead of saying that, though, she trades her grief and jealousy for bittersweetness and anger, finding the taste of them far more empowering. “So that’s it then,” Fanny says with a hollow peel of laughter, keeping herself pressed tightly to One’s side for as long as she can. It’s going to end soon anyway, so what does a bit of clinginess matter? “You’re going to replace me, just like that?”

One eyes Fanny, and she watches as the Algebrailian visibly adjusts her demeanor, shifting from manic to cold and calculated in an instant. As antithetical as it sounds, Fanny can’t help but take a strange sort of comfort in it, things shifting back to the dynamic she expects from the two of them. Fanny is hopelessly, desperately in love, and One is all too happy to take advantage of that, toying with her emotions and deriving no small amount of pleasure from it.

Maybe One is better at being the terrified person, obsessed with her goals and willing to do anything to avoid being left alone, but when she’s with Fanny, One taking on the role of manipulative puppet master just feels right, in some sick way. Maybe it’s a mask, but it oddly makes Fanny feel better about herself, watching as One crushes her will into dust. It makes her feel like this was inevitable, like nothing could have stopped this. As pathetic as it is, playing the helpless victim makes her feel better about all of this. Clinging to the excuse is easier than admitting that Fanny did this to herself by falling for One, no matter how she’s hurt for it.

So she takes solace in the callous expression that settles in One’s eyes, nearly enough to overtake the tired look visible within them, as a smirk twists the Algebrailian’s face and she says “Oh, Fanny. You were never truly an option to begin with. Just something to distract myself with until something better comes along. And now…” Her smile turns slanted and wretched as a haggard look settles on her face. Even when she’s trying to break Fanny’s heart, she can’t fully keep the facade. “Now I’m going to fix it.” she vows, staring into the distance.

It’s funny. Fanny’s used to being scared of One, but she’s not used to feeling pity for her.

Part of her wants to meet Three, to warn the Algebrailian of what it’s like to be loved by One. It’s so obsessive it hurts, so sickly it curdles in your stomach, so suffocating that you’ll eternally feel her weight on your soul. She wants to tell them to run and never look back. Whoever they are, they can’t deserve belonging to One, pinned by her eyes like a bug pinned to a wall. As good as dead, really, when what lies ahead could hardly be considered living.

Part of her wants to stay as far away from Three as she can, because anyone that can make One look like that makes Fanny bitter on principle. She knows she can’t ever have One in the way that she wants, can’t even get the Algebrailian to utter the words “I love you” and certainly can’t be sure that she means them. But she wants to keep One for just a little longer anyway. Hah. Keep. As if Fanny is the one with any power here.

A small part of her hopes One and Three deserve each other, but she knows that’ll never be the case. For One to be desperate, to sigh out Three’s name with such reverie, the unknown Algebrailian has to be something really special. Fanny sees the same quality in One she sees in herself whenever she gets swept up in her feelings for Bubble. There’s the admiration, the knowledge that the other person is far better than they could ever hope to be. Are Three and Bubble the suns to One and Fanny’s shadows?

Maybe Fanny and One really deserve each other. Maybe they’re just two aching hearts wrapped up in self loathing making each other worse. Or, well, One is mostly the one making Fanny worse, but semantics…

Slowly, she shifts in place, going from pressed against One’s side to standing right in front of her, feeling the Algebrailian’s strained breaths against the grate of her fan. One, looking startled, refocuses her eyes, meeting Fanny’s as she blinks a few times.

Here goes nothing… Fanny stands on the tips of her toes as she leans forward, pressing her lips against One’s. She doesn’t close her eyes, so she has the pleasure of watching the way One’s eyes widen for a moment, clearly not expecting Fanny to seize control when that’s the opposite of what their relationship had been built upon. Fanny fully expects One to shove her away.

Instead, though, her eyes flutter as she presses tighter against Fanny. They kiss for long enough that they have to break away, gasping for air, and when the kiss resumes, it’s One that moves forward. Fanny’s being rewarded for her impulsivity rather than punished for it. There’s a new one.

Fanny’s never felt more euphoric. And yet, Fanny’s never felt more broken.