Chapter Text
Verso wakes to a banging on his door, he jolts and jumps up, prepared to fight, his heart is pounding, eyes darting around the space. He scans the area, and finds himself in a familiar room, someone is knocking on the door again. He looks down at his clothing, and stretches out his neck, then opens the door. Alicia pushes her way inside, she looks distressed, and sounds as much, pained groans escaping her lips. She wails for a moment, flailing her arms and making wide gestures, Verso stares in shock, his heart still beating. She finally clams, letting out a last gasp and approaches Verso, resting her head on his chest, but does not reach out to hold him. He tentatively pats her head.
“I-” He starts. “What’s wrong?”
Alicia whimpers, her hands make fists in his shirt. He feels her tears wetting the fabric. After the excitement of the night before, Verso cannot even begin to imagine what has her so distressed, her breathing begins to slow, and her sobs fade into silent tears. Verso pushes her away, hands on her shoulders and crouches to meet her eyes.
“Please,” he says. “Just tell me what’s going on. I can’t help unless you do.”
She nods, and wipes her eyes on her sleeve. She pulls out a small notebook and pen from her pocket. Shakily, she begins to write.
It’s awful, she starts. Papa wanted to send me away! He says I need to “get out more” and that I “can’t stay cooped up at home forever!
Verso stares at the tear stained paper, reading her words.
“I don’t understand,” He says quietly. “Where are they sending you?”
Papa says it’s a school, somewhere I can learn more about the world, where I can “escape my grief.” But I don’t feel any grief! And there are things to do, with Gustave back-
Her pencil stills, and her eyes water again, she looks up at Verso, pleading. She is hysterical, and Verso does not know how to help. He is silent for a moment as he tries to imagine a solution.
“Listen,” he says. “I doubt I can change Renoir’s mind, but I will be here while you are away, I can… keep an eye on things.”
He pats her shoulder awkwardly, hoping his reassurance will be enough.
Do you promise? She writes, staring at him.
“I do,” Verso nods. “I will do what I can here, and I will write.”
Slowly Alicia nods too. She seems satisfied with his answer for now, but no less upset at the prospect of being away from home. Verso’s mind flashes with memories that aren’t his. A fight with Renoir, a long carriage ride, followed by an even longer train ride. He tries not to make his headache obvious as the images burn themselves into his retinas. He thinks Renoir may have done this to the real Verso too. He wonders if Alicia would have remembered. Alicia picks up her pencil again.
What do you think it means? With Gustave and Lucien here, do you think the others could be as well?
“I don’t know.” Verso says. “It might, it might not. I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you.”
They are both silent for a moment, deep in thought.
“Even just for me to have been expelled for the canvas,” Verso starts. “It would have taken an immense amount of power. I wonder if it is even permanent? And with the canvas erased…”
Don’t say that. Alicia writes. Even if it’s temporary, we’ll find a way to keep them alive. We have to.
Verso’s brow furrows.
“We don’t know if it’s temporary.” He says, though he deeply hopes that it is. “You don’t have to worry, I’ll look into it while you’re away.”
You’re the best.
Alicia smiles up at him.
Would you help me pack?
***
Alicia sat in the middle of her room surrounded by clothes, books, and various other things in her possession. She huffed and threw her hands up.
“You don’t have to bring everything, you know?” Verso says, glancing around the room. “It looks like a nevron’s been through here.”
Alicia put her hands on her hips and scowled at him. He put his hands up in mock surrender.
“If you had started sooner we wouldn’t be in this mess.” He laughs.
“Look,” he says. “They’ll provide you with books and pencils, so you don't need to bring those. And I’m pretty sure there’s a uniform.”
Alicia tilts her head, she looks momentarily confused, before recognition flashes across her features.
“Verso did this already.” Verso says, trying his best to seem good natured. He had personally never been to an academy, but the real version of him had, and his mind was made up of scattered bits of his memories.
“You’ll do great.”
Alicia smiles warmly up at him, she starts to fold some of the clothing on the floor, putting some in her trunk. Verso crouches to help. He lifts an item for her to inspect, and folds it into her trunk if she approves. The two work in amiable silence for a while. They enjoy the quiet of each other's company. Alicia turns her head to her open room door, hearing someone before they arrive. Verso looks up.
“I see you’re finally making some progress.” Clea stands at the door, her arms crossed over her chest.
Alicia nods, and returns to her task.
“I remember my days at the academy,” She continues, ignoring Verso. “I learned so much about artistic theory, and met so many talented people.”
She glances at Verso for a moment, not holding his eye.
“Your brother started a year or so after me.” She trailed off. “I know it’ll be tough being away from home. But you’ll learn so much, and you may even make friends, unlikely as that is.”
Alicia shoots a glare at her, and slams her trunk shut, almost catching Verso’s fingers. She stands up and marches out the door, taking the heavy trunk with her.
“Would it kill you to be nicer?” Verso says.
Clea doesn't say anything, though she lingers for a moment, her brow furrows, she looks almost conflicted. Then she turns and leaves, following Alicia to the Mannor’s foyer. Alicia’s room feels empty, there are no books on the floor, or dresses on her bed anymore, Verso pushes himself to standing, and sighs. He has no idea what he is going to do. He had been so aimless for the past few weeks, and finally he has a goal, and. He doesn’t want to do it. He doesn;t want to know that his stay in this world could be permanent. And if it’s not, he doesn’t want to find a way to make it so.
“The things I do for this family.” He whispers, closing the door behind him as he leaves.
“The carriage will be here at any moment.” Renoir's voice carries down the hall.
“Are you ready to go?” He asks, Verso can hear the fondness in his voice.
He approached the three Dessendres. Aline is not present.
Alicia nods, allowing herself to be embraced by Renoir.
“Don’t forget to send letters.” Clea says. “You know Papa will worry if you don’t.”
Verso ruffles her hair.
“Don’t work too hard.” He says, stumbling back a bit as she hugs him.
The four of them help Alicia carry her things outside as they wait with her for the carriage to make its way up to the Manor, then they load all of her things up, Renoir helps her into the carriage. They all wave her off, Clea is the first to go back inside. Then Verso turns to leave as well.
Renoir watches the carriage until he cannot see it any longer.