PoliceForcestuck: Entanglement of Love 7

Your name is Vriska Serket and you are engaged to John Egbert, human. You flip your hair back fighting the sun’s heat as you walk eagerly to your fiancé’s work place.

There is a small lot of land not far from where you live that has a house being
constructed. John works there hammering this and that to the structure, he’s handy at it.
You wish better for him though, like how his coworkers don’t converse with him. Not many
people do, and it is because of your relationship with him. But John always smiles past
them telling you that it’ll get better.

You sigh thinking about him. John is waiting for you to pick him up so you can meet a
clergyman in another city that supports your type of relationship. It has proven very
difficult to get married. You even tried a petition to change the law here. But nothing
will work for Skaia, so another city will have to do.

You spot John less than a block away. Your pace quickens and your fiancé notices you
before you can reach him.

John hammers a nail into a window frame and then signals his boss about leaving. He takes
off his equipment and smiles at you through the opening. You wait outside at the front
lawn watching him open the door and-

Collapse.

John collapses down to the ground with a loud thud. A brick leans on his head splattered
with blood.

You run to him. So do others. Sirens come, but not soon enough you guess. Was there
anything they could really prevent or save?

It’s your fault. You shouldn’t have come. You should have avoided him or came a minute
later. John’s coworkers take the responsibility, but you know it’s your fault. Always your
fault.

Here you are now, sitting down next to John’s hospital bed, with your face in your hands.
You use John’s heart pacer to keep your own heart under control.

“Ms. Serket?” A green blood lightly knocks on your door frame. “I’m back with his
results.” You sit up and pay attention to him through your tear stained eyes. “It’s not
good. We are able to keep him alive, but we don’t know if we can wake him up. It’s up to
him.”

“What are his chances?”

“Low right now and they’ll only go down as time moves on. We have him stable right now and
with our technology we can keep him like that, but only time will tell.” The doctor walks
over to the other side of the bed. “Your insurance doesn’t cover for very long however.”

“So?”

“So we can’t keep him alive if there’s no finance.”

Did the weight of the world fall on your shoulders just then? “I see.”

“You have the first month before you need another source. I’ll leave you to figure out
when to cut his life support.” The troll leaves you alone, but you swear you should’ve
clawed his face while he was in here.

He doesn’t understand. Nobody does. You can’t let John die. You can’t! But you look back
on your love and brush a wave of hair back. What would he want? Do you want him to suffer?
You don’t know.

You groan into your hands irritated. Where’s your pack? You reach into your pocket and pull out a cigarette and lighter only for a nurse to pass by and nag the items back into
your pocket.

Your head lowers to John’s practically still side. You softly move his hand to hold yours
trying to recreate the squeeze he would give you. You whispered his name over and over
hoping just hoping he will hear you.

He doesn’t wake up.

It was almost midnight when Mr. Egbert arrived.

“Oh God John!” The man rushes to the bed and crouches down. “No please God no. Not him.
Why him?” Tears stream down his face as he collapses his head next to the pillow.

You want to fight him. To tell him to back off. But you have no right or even the will to
bring forth your words. Instead you leave the two and wander the hospital.

Your own legs take you through corridors and stairways. It isn’t until you find an object
of interest when you stop.

A middle aged woman is seen through a window being cared for by a nurse. The nurse moves
away from the female and leaves the room. She turns to you, “I’m sorry, do you know the
patient?”

You purse your lips before speaking, “Yeah.”

“You can go talk to her. The poor woman hasn’t had any company yet.”

“Thanks.” You slowly walk inside and pull a chair beside the seemingly asleep woman. You
cautiously move your hand over to her face to gently touch the wrinkles and lines
detailing her.

The woman rouses, “Hmm?” She carefully shifts to view you better, “Vriska?”

“Hey Amelia.” You can scarcely handle how much she’s changed over the years. Her hair has
greyed in bunches, and she has lost the color in her cheeks. Amelia raises a boney hand to
touch your face.

Tears start to run down her face, “I thought I would never see you again. I guess God does
grant me my last wish.”

“Wh-What do you mean?”

“I’m dying Vriska, I only have a few hours left the doctors tell me. All those years I
neglected my body finally caught up to me. The doctors have been watching me for the last
few days.”

“There’s nothing that can be done?!”

“Shh Vriska, it’s alright. It means the world for me that you’re here and that I can take
this chance to redeem a bit of myself.” This day is becoming too much for you.

You make another grab for your cigarettes hoping to have an inhale before someone catches
you. Amelia stops you.

“Don’t smoke Vriska.”

You grumble, “You smoked.”

She chuckles a raspy one, “And look at me now! Oh Vriska, smoking only temporarily masks
your problems, but you can’t avoid them forever.”

“What?”

“Why are you here Vriska? I know you haven’t tried to reach me in years, so why are you
here in the hospital?” You dig your nails into your thighs. “Please Vriska, tell me what’s
wrong. Let me be the mother you should have had.”

You lift up your left hand, “I’m getting married.”

“Oh Vriska, I’m so happy. I only wish I could be around to see you walk down the aisle.”

“Yeah I would like that too; to have you there and to get married.” You take a deep
breath, “My fiancé is in a coma after an incident today. The doctor doesn’t have much
faith that he’ll get out of it.” You bring your raised hand to your face to cover your
streaming tears, “I don’t know mom. I don’t know what to do. There’s so many . . . I don’t
know if I can go on without him. I shouldn’t have gotten so attached to him! This has to
be the world’s way of saying ‘Vriska, stay the fuck away from him! You don’t deserve any
fucking happiness!’”

“Vriska what’s wrong? Why are you acting like this?”

You sigh, “His name is John, mom. I’m in love with a fucking human.”

“Oh Vriska,” she moves your hands away from your face, “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not! You think I would have learned after your affair.”

“Learn what?” she asks. “To be with someone you love and not to let others put you down?
That was the mistake I made, don’t make the same. You will fix this. Why? Because that is
who you are. You don’t let others put a barrier around you. Break their limits and reach
yours. I could tell that much while watching you grow up.”

“Mom,” you don’t know what else to say.

“Live your life the way you want to. Don’t let anyone stop you. Do it for yourself, for
your fiancé, and do it for me. So that I won’t have this burden on my heart that my
daughter can never achieve happiness.” You give a small smile and tightly wrap your hand
around hers. “If there’s anyone I can bet my money on, it’s you.” You almost laugh at her
enthusiasm.

“H-How much longer to you have again?”

She lays her head down resting, “About an hour or two.”

“I want to spend it with you.”

Amelia starts to cry again but scoots over to a side of the bed, “Can you lay beside me?”

You comply and rest next to her, and you even discover that Amelia is smaller than you.

The woman runs her fingers slowly in your hair, “Just like the good days. I can’t imagine
a better end.”

You snuggle up next to your mother, “I love you mom.”

“And I love you.”

After 74 minutes of silence, those became Amelia Vine’s last words.

A doctor walks in to inform you that you have to leave so the body can be taken to a
morgue. You watch them as they wrap her body and depart. In the near future, you’ll be one
of the few people to attend her funeral.

But in the present, you walk back to John’s room and find Mr. Egbert actually waiting for
you.

“How much?”

“What?”

He sighs, “How much money is needed to keep him alive?”

You grip a chair trying to keep balanced as the recent events have not been easy for you,
“I don’t understand.”

“Do you want to let John go?” he asks earnestly.

“No.”

“Then how much is needed to keep him stable? I want to help.”

You stare at him before answering, “None.”

“I’m sorry?”

You’re going to regret this aren’t you? “Yeah our insurance covers this. We’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

You know the risks. You don’t have enough money to keep John around forever, but you can’t
let his dad take over. It pains you to think of the consequences. Mr. Egbert would have
evidence that you can’t care for John and end up taking him from you. You would be weak.

Fuck it, you’ll save John yourself. John and your mother are right; you do have what it
takes. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“If you insist, I’m going to stay for a few more minutes and then come by again another
day. I’m going to keep visiting my son.”

You can’t stop him from that. “Sure.”

“I’m sorry but I want a few more minutes alone with John.”

“Fine,” you force out of your mouth. You’ll have your time with your fiancé later.

You exit out of the room and sit down on a nearby bench. You fumble with your fingers
instead of smoking.

Someone sits down next to you. “Good evening Vriska.”

Confused, you turn your head to look at the man sitting next to you. He’s old and a White
wearing a white suit and green shirt and tie. Bad combination; by that you mean you
recognize the group that he is associating with.

“It is polite to address someone who has greeted you,” he continues after your silence.

“Yeah but I don’t know you.”

“But I know you.”

So creepy. “Uhh . . .”

“Forgive me, I was your mother’s psychologist for the past few months.” Your mother was in
therapy? “I am Dr. Scratch.” He holds a hand out that you hesitantly shake. “I am sorry to hear about Amelia’s passing.”

“Yeah it uh it sucks.” Please go away.

“And now it appears that your companion in there has undergo quite the obstacle. Leaving
you with your own.” You give him a confused look. “Your finance, child.”

“I don’t know what you think, but we’re just fine-“

“No you’re not. You miserable and you have no idea how to support either of you. And you
are too insecure to ask for help. So I’m here to offer.”

First rule when dealing with the Felt, never owe them favors. “I don’t need your help.”

“Not help, a job. One that’ll pay more than what you earn in a year.”

“Wait really?”

“Indeed,” he pulls out a business card and a pen, “This is the amount for the first task.”
Dr. Scratch hands the card to you and-Holy Grub shit do you like those numbers. “And
there’ll be that or more for each additional task. Just use the number on the other side
to call me.”

Don’t get ahead of yourself, “What sort of job?”

“A simple retrieving order. Simple for someone with your special abilities.”

“Special abilities?” Oh Grub how could he know-?

“Your spider mutation that excretes a certain material.”

“Oh.”

“Are there any other capabilities that you own?”

“No! I’m perfectly normal with only a web butt!” Smooooooooth.

You swear the man smirks like he knows, “Well I believe your web can be constructed
instead of being disposed of.”

“Constructed how?”

You can’t believe how much of a genius that man is. After a month of gathering web you had
enough to create a pair of gloves and a mask. The material is breathable, form fitting,
and great for masking any physical appearances. You actually got really good at your job
after a few months, and raised enough money to keep John and yourself comfortable.

However the simple “retrieving” job turned out to be stealing. Big surprise there. But
it’s mostly strange pieces of data and you never get caught so no harm? Sometimes you have
to use your psychic abilities to make a distraction or move a troll guard. This is okay,
right? It’s helping John out, but would he even approve? No one’s getting hurt at least.

Until one night that is.

You fucked up. You fucked up. You fucked up. You fucked up. You fucked up. You fucked up.
You fucked up. You fucked up!

You are running in some sort of chemistry lab holding a file with some stupid formula and
two cops chasing after you. You can’t even tell if they’re trolls or not! You knock into
one of the tables, “Shit!”

You turn around and can barely see in the dark that one of the cops is catching up to you.
You run faster but not fast enough. Luckily for you that you know that.

When the cop is just about to snatch you, you grab a filled bleaker and toss the liquid
into the cop’s face. A feminine screech echoes across the room, and she falls to the
ground clutching her face.

You look back only once more to see the other cop caring for his ally. What luck!

But you wonder, at what cost? You hurt someone. You promised John that you wouldn’t
anymore. But you didn’t use your psychic powers so it doesn’t count! Right?

You meet your employer at a small bookstore where he greets you inside.

“Excellent job as always Vriska. Now for your next assignment-“ But you’ve stopped
listening.

You’ve hurt someone and it’s worse because you didn’t use your powers. You realize that
using your powers was a horrible excuse to take advantage of others, because it’s assumed
as much. But what you just did anyone could do. You’re no better. You’re no worse. You’ve
only failed John.

“I’m done.”

The man is surprised.

“I’m done with this. I’ll keep John alive some other way.”

You walk out of the bookstore half wondering if Scratch will still pay you for that job.