Unconditional Love
Stitches unwrapped the last bandage, so glad she wouldn’t have to wrap them anymore starting now. She takes a moment to really look at them, in totality, for the very first time in the mirror. She had looked at them closely, individually as they healed, but she had been unable to really look at them all at once. She inhaled sharply at the sight, but now that she saw them, she couldn’t look away.
*
Her neck and both forearms were covered in gruesome scars. The ones on her neck were mostly in the same direction, from the underside of her jaw and running down to her clavicles, with some overlapping, some shorter, and some longer. It looked like she had been attacked by a wild animal that had tried to tear her throat out. Her arms were in a similar state, though the scar patterns were much more chaotic, with bite marks and scratch marks leaving random patterns from her elbows down to her wrists. They weren’t all healing uniform either; the deeper gashes had healed in receded valleys, some still having only recently fully sealed and a deep pink, while the shallower ones had healed flush with the rest of the skin and only faintly pink. The most minor wounds were already a dainty silver, fully healed, a little peek into what they would all look like in the future, color-wise, at least. It was jarring and stomach-churning, but also… kind of cool looking, in a morbid, twisted way. If someone didn’t know how it happened, they would probably assume she had been attacked and survived a horrific animal attack, or maybe fended off a particularly mad, hungry demon.
*
Huh, well, I shouldn’t be as desirable now. I’m not a cutesy doll anymore. Well, I am, but I am also a really fucked up doll. Ooh, like Chucky!
She giggled at that, then heard a knock from the front door. Startled, she looked at the clock on her nightstand, just visible from the middle of the bathroom. 9:45 am. Crap, Charlie’s activity! She moaned and covered her face with her hands, slowly sliding them down her face in exasperation. Why had she agreed to start going to those again? Oh right. Because she had been here nearly for a month, had a meltdown her first day, and had basically hid in her room or wandered the hotel only when Angel or Lucifer had been with her. Because she had been avoiding literally all the other guests, and only really talking to the staff, slowly getting more comfortable with them, but still keeping some distance. Because she felt guilty about everything, like her meltdown, her insistence to heal naturally (and keep her scars), and allowing everyone to coddle her. Because when Charlie asked last night, she simply couldn’t say no again, seeing the understanding disappointment on her face one more time. Because she was a fucking idiot.
She sighed and grabbed her gray hoodie on the way to the door. She didn’t want to be the center of attention at the activity, which she totally would be if she showed up with her scars on display. And she just couldn’t handle that right now. That was a later issue. Not a today issue.
She opened the door, and Angel was there, pretending to be nonchalant, even though he was clearly glancing at her now bare neck and arms, fully on display with her wearing a low-neck t-shirt and baggy shorts. She could either be awkward about it, or she could tease him, and there was obviously only one right answer.
She smirked at him as she pulled on the hoodie and adjusted her hair so she could pull up the hood. “Real subtle with the stares there, bro,” she teased. “Take a picture, it will last longer. You really know how to make a girl self-conscious about her wounds.”
He huffed and rolled his eyes, not taking the guilt trip she had tacked onto the end. “Just surprised ya took off the wrappin’s before the activity, that’s all. I woulda bet money ya would leave ‘em on til after.”
“Ooh, well, guess you should leave the gambling to Husker, then.” She grinned at him mischievously. “Cuz you would have lost, like, so hard. There was no way I was showing up dressed like a mummy. Glad I can still surprise you though. I would hate to be too predictable.”
Angel rolled his eyes dramatically and crossed his arms as he loomed over her with faux annoyance. “Oh, yeah, that would be a tragedy.” They stared at each other for a minute, before they erupted into laughter. It was so easy for him to calm her nerves, and now she was actually looking forward to the activity. She wiped her eyes, locking her door, and following him down the hall to the elevator.
“Let’s get through this awkward mess so I can finally be a part of society again.”
______________________________________________________________________________
Angel made sure they were there just as Charlie was stepping to the front of the room. There were a lot more guests now, so the lobby was crowded with at least 30 people. Stitches had been chatting away like it was nothing, but the minute they entered, she had gone quiet and was walking much closer to him. He immediately put one of his arms on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze; she didn’t look up, but he did feel her relax a bit under his touch, so he kept it there, and guided her to the outer edge of the group.
“O-kay, everyone!” Charlie clapped her hands for attention. “Today’s activity is going to be… DA DA DA! Team-building Skits! Everyone divides up into groups of 3-4 people and chooses a director or team leader. That person will come up and draw a prompt from this bowl-” she held it up proudly “- and then you will work together to write a simple script for your team to act out, so try to keep the skits between 3-5 minutes. You can go practice wherever you like, but be sure to be back here by 11 am, because we will be performing them for each other before lunch!”
“And no funny business,” Vaggie added. “Keep it clean, Angel.”
“Oi, why am I bein’ called out here!!?” he yelled, glaring at her with his lower set of arms on his hips. He heard Stitches snort quietly.
Vaggie just flipped her hair and glared back. “You know why.”
Stitches suddenly giggled, loudly, before smacking a hand over her mouth, as she stared at everyone turning towards her. She immediately pressed closer into him and grabbed his hand, desperately looking up at him, her eyes screaming that she couldn’t do this. But she relaxed as he winked at her and gave her a reassuring squeeze, and it was enough for her to nod and simply look down, her shoulders settling into a determined stance as she decided to stay.
No way was she not going to be in his group. He was going to keep a close eye on her, and if anything went wrong, he and Lucifer had already come up with a game plan to get her out of there. He glanced over to the bar, and Lucifer was there, sipping a sparkly apple juice with a crazy straw, acting nonchalant as he surveyed the crowd, but definitely paying attention to them. Their eyes met and they exchanged a curt nod. All Angel would have to do was give him the signal, and he would immediately fly over and port the three of them to Stitches’ room. We’ll never let what happened last time happen again. She’s not gettin’ hurt on our watch.
As everyone started forming teams, Angel motioned for Cherri to come join them, which she happily obliged, bringing Niffty with her. Niffty immediately scurried up into Stitches’ arms, giggling and prattling on about the bugs she had stabbed today. Stitches just held her happily, giving her her full attention, like a mother with a toddler. He wasn’t entirely certain when or how they had gotten to be such good friends, but somehow, they seemed to understand each other. Niffty had even come up to her room a couple of times to show off her bug collection or gift her a macabre art project made from the vermin. Stitches had started keeping them on a small shelf above her desk like a proud parent, which was equally gross to everyone but the two of them. He shrugged. It’s weird, but at least they are happy.
After all the teams had been chosen, they decided that Cherri could be their director, and she went up to get their prompt, and then they decided to retreat to the music room. Lucifer followed them, with an excuse of wanting to work on a new piece on his fiddle. Of course, it was an excuse so he could go with them without raising the suspension of the other guests that the King was playing favorites. Besides, Stitches always seemed to calm more when there was music, and the more calming effects for this day, the better. Once they were all settled, Lucifer playing softly on one side of the room, and the group huddled in another, it was time to read the prompt.
“Okay,” Cherri began, “looks like we got ‘unconditional love’. So… what the hell we doin’?”
They all threw around various ideas. Niffty’s were all kinda… weird, and not a single one was without the suggestion of using some dead bugs as props. Angel wanted to do something sexual, just to piss Vaggie off, and Cherri thought they should throw firecrackers at the crowd. After arguing back and forth for a while, Stitches, who had been just sitting quietly, raised her hand.
“Um, so, I…” She paused, and Angel gave her an encouraging nod, motioning for the other two to be quiet. She gave him a grateful smile before continuing. “I-I used to write when I was alive. I mean, I never really published anything, but I enjoyed it. Maybe, we could adapt one of the short stories I wrote?”
Cherri looked impressed. “You still remember the stories you used to write?”
Stitches blushed and nodded. “I don’t remember all the tiny details, but I remember most of the main story points. The one I think would work well is actually from a fairytale I wrote for…” a darkness fell over her face, but she shook her head, and continued, telling them the story “... Anyway, it’s about a dove who falls in love with a lonely inventor. But he is human, and she is a bird, so obviously, they can’t really be together, but every day, she brings him a gift: a small pebble. And every day, he waits for her, rewarding her with some food and spending hours talking to her about his life and calling her his Little Muse.
“But one day, she fell ill. She couldn’t barely move, and she knew she was dying. All she wanted was to see the man she loved one last time. So, she forced herself to his window, this time too weak to get him a pebble. When she tapped on his window, much later than she usually did, he immediately opened it for her, so excited to see her. But all she could do was fly into his arms, snuggle into his chest, and, having reached her goal, she died peacefully.
“The inventor was devastated, for he had also fallen in love with the little dove, and used the pebbles she had brought him to erect a monument in his garden for her, to mark her grave. He visited her grave every day, bringing her a pebble, until the day he died. By then, the garden had been transformed into a beautiful rock garden, so many pebbles, that like his heart, it had become devoid of all color except for shades of gray.
“After his death, the goddess of love was so moved by their undying love for one another, that she reunited their souls, and they were reborn, this time as stars. Together, they shined happily in the night sky, and they were never separated again.”
Everyone was silent, and even Lucifer had stopped playing to listen to the bittersweet tale. Stitches nervously picked at her sleeve, waiting for someone to finally say something. She didn’t have to wait long, because all of them started clapping. Her face flushed pink, and she ducked her head down to hide her embarrassment.
“Holy shit!” Cherri cheered. “Where did ya come up with a story like? That was bloody beautiful, bitch!” She hugged Stitches enthusiastically, and Stitches, startled, hugged her back. “I don’t usually get a taste for sappy shit, but damn, I felt somethin’ tuggin’ at that!”
“Seriously, Sis, that was incredible!” Angel agreed. “I didn’t know I could feel so much fo’ a stupid bird! No wonder ya are always so bored wit’ the magazines. That trash doesn’t come close to how creative your own brain is!”
“So, you guys want to use it as inspiration for the skit?” Stitches asked.
“HELL YEAH!” the group all cheered. They spent the next half hour or so writing a script and figuring out who would act out what parts. They settled on Niffty playing the dove, Angel playing the inventor, and Stitches playing the part of the goddess. Cherri would be the narrator and director. They spent the rest of their time practicing, while Lucifer returned to his fiddle playing, pretending not to be watching, but grinning the whole time like a sap. All too soon, it was time for everyone to go back to share with the larger group.
______________________________________________________________________________
Stitches picked nervously at her sleeve as their group waited their turn. She was so nervous to share this story with the group at large. It had been a private fairytale she had written, based on a real story- thanks, Nikola Tesla, RIP -so she had never thought anyone would ever hear it outside of her own house. As each group went on, she grew more and more nervous. What if everyone hated it? This was such an important story for her, with layers of nostalgia and raw pain associated with it, and the thought of someone making fun of it-
“Alright, the last group is Cherri’s with the prompt ‘unconditional love’!” Charlie called out. Too late to stop this. She got up and followed the others to the stage, using every bit of willpower to keep from shaking. Once everyone settled down and stopped their bored clapping, it was time to begin:
“What does it mean to love unconditionally?” Cherri asked, her voice filling the space. “Can love exist when it can’t even be communicated or tangibly confirmed? In this story, ‘The Inventor’s Muse’, adapted from a fairytale written by Stitches here, we learn for ourselves.”
And so began a much more condensed and chaotic version of the story. Niffty cooed and ran around happily as the dove, Angel over-exaggerated his lines, and Cherri improved a bit here and there. Thankfully, Stitches didn’t have any speaking roles, but she went through the motions of bringing together Angel and Niffty and placing them as stars in the sky at the end of the skit. In the end, they went to take a bow.
And were met with loud, boisterous applause. Stitches was shocked, but nearly every single person was giving them a standing ovation, She was so in shock, that she felt a bit dissociative, and just kinda floated in her body, barely aware of what happened next. Charlie was being the loudest of course, with tears streaming down her cheeks. She ran up to give them all a group hug, then got them to do an encore bow, before dismissing everyone for a catered lunch in the dining hall. She turned, beaming at them.
“O-M-G, that was so GOOD!” She grabbed Stitches by the shoulder, jolting her out of her dissociative state. “You actually wrote that??? When???”
Stitches cleared her throat. “Um, when I was alive. This was just a condensed version of the fairytale, but I figured it fit the prompt, because what is more unconditional than a love that can never be spoken or truly returned? It’s a love based solely on wanting the other person to be happy, thinking of them even after they are gone, and always loving them, regardless of what the other person can or will give in return.”
Charlie wiped away a tear. “That is so unbelievably profound and beautiful! I love that! You should totally start writing again! I bet we could get you published!”
Stitches blushed. She had always been creative. Writing, painting, crocheting, playing piano… anything creative, she had a natural draw to do it. It fueled her, made her happy, and really kept her mind from going to such dark places. But… for some reason, the idea of letting others see her work, to send it out to the masses… it just didn’t seem to be something she was ready for. Or would ever be ready for it, honestly? She couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt the urge to create, though she knew it was way before… She shook her head.
But I don’t want to disappoint anyone, especially Charlie.
So instead she said:
“I’ll consider it.”