Fic: Atoms and Empty Spaces (And the feelings to fill them) [Sucker Punch]
Doctor Gorski stopped the tape and rubbed her temples, she wasn’t getting anywhere. Blondie sat on the bed in the theatre with a look like a roadblock, one eyebrow quirked like she didn’t know what she was doing wrong.
As if she hadn’t been making snarky comments for the past twenty minutes.
“Blondie, I’m going to need you to cooperate, there’s nothing I can do for you if you’re not willing to try.”
“What? Sorry if I don’t jam to instrumental therapy. Maybe if we got some lyrics I could really start exploring how there’s nothing wrong with me.”
Some of the girls giggled, they appreciated boldness for the short bursts in which it could exist. This place had a habit of burying it.
The door to the theatre opened and Blue walked in, flanked by his orderly lackeys, they drew what little comfort there was from the room. It rushed out the door behind them. The Doctor looked between them and her patient; mouth reeled into a taught line.
“Why don’t you go back to your room, hm? Maybe you can consider the ramifications of a lack of progress better alone?”
Blondie bit the inside of her lip and nodded, slipping off the stage and into the hall, glad for the reprieve from Blue’s afternoon rounds, an event that normally ended in bruising.
“Where’s our little Blondie goin’ huh?”
The Madame spun her walking stick over her shoulder beckoning for Sweet Pea to get on stage.
“We’ve already worked on it, her dance is a bit part. Sweet Pea’s will be staring so I thought we could-“
“Yeah, right right, what was I thinking, huh? You’re the one that makes the dances. I just wouldn’t want her getting less attention than some of the other girl’s right? Wouldn’t want her being outdone.”
“Don’t worry Blue, she’ll be perfect.”
“Let’s hope so.”
And Amber ran after her down the hallway.
She heard the footsteps.
“Not today, I am not in the mood for your creepy optimism.”
Blondie could almost feel her pouting.
“My optimism isn’t creepy.”
They took a few more steps not looking at one another.
“Is it?”
Blondie sighed and stopped walking, “Okay new girl, I thought that I’d made it pretty clear that I don’t really like you, do you have some weird masochism thing going on because I gotta say, I’m not into that.”
“Amber.”
“What?” Blondie finally turned to look at it, her arms crossed over her chest as if to cage something in.
“My name’s Amber, its not new girl or newbie or smiles or fresh meat or-“
She couldn’t hold back the laugh, “Lemme guess, Rocket?”
Amber nodded her head slowly.
“Yeah, she’ll get over that,” She turned to walk the rest of the way to their group bedroom.
“Hey wait!”
“What?”
“I just wanted to warn you that Blue was saying that if you don’t do good tomorrow night then, well….”
Blondie pushed through the bedroom door.
“Well what?”
“Bad stuff.”
“Bad stuff huh, what are you ten?”
“No.”
Blondie had turned to face her again as she pushed her way into the barracks, chewing her bottom lip.
“So what? Am I supposed to thank you?”
“No, well yes, but not yet, I wanted to help.”
“Help what?”
Amber rolled her eyes, as if everything was obvious.
“You can’t dance.”
“Whoa, okay new girl I’ve been nice up till now but-“
“Not like, you can’t dance but you don’t open yourself up. The audience doesn’t feel it.”
“And what, you’re the master of movement plus vulnerability?”
“See! You didn’t deny it! You know I’m right.”
She might have begun to jump up and down had she let the excitement simmer a moment.
“Okay, so….?”
“So I’ll help! The dance studio, tonight okay? Right before lights out.”
She probably could have done it with just the grin on her face.
So she bit, sue her. What if Amber was right?
Opening up had never been her strong point, it had never been any point of her, because why would she? Open yourself up and stuff will get ripped out.
Fact is fact is fact and she was sick of feeling like there was nothing there, of all that heavy nothingness that could live inside of you. She could feel it on her feet, and in her hands, like she was always holding stones when all she was, was empty space.
Amber stretched in front of the mirror.
“Hey, you showed up!”
She only shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to further broach the subject.
“Right, okay, so just go ahead and do what you normally do.”
“There’s no music.”
“Imagination, come on.”
Amber tapped her foot; the beat was light but easy, less demanding than the repeated thumping of Madame Gorski’s walking cane. She felt it for a few minutes before beginning.
It was an Indian style dance, starting in the hips, flowing up to the shoulders and down the arms like an itch for feeling. She imagined herself covered in gems.
The tapped out beat stopped but she did not, hearing the music in her head, it echoed through the hollow parts of her and suddenly there were hands on her waist.
She stopped but didn’t move away, “What the hell?”
Amber took a breath; she could hear it by her ear.
“Dancing here is about sex, trust me okay?”
“You better not be doing this as an excuse to feel me up fresh meat.”
Amber laughed.
“I’ll stop whenever you say,”
“Like a safe word? Kinky.”
Amber crinkled her nose and started tapping her foot again.
This time when she moved she could feel the space shrinking, the cavern of the inside rushed full; hypertonic with potential she saw a glimpse of endlessness.
She opened her eyes, Amber’s hand was on her thigh, face buried in her hair.
“Okay, but you gotta remember you’re still dancing, don’t get lost of the audience will get lost.”
“When did you get so good at all of this?”
Amber shrugged, “I don’t know, but stay with me okay.”
“What?”
“I mean here, stay here, don’t get lost. Focus.”
All she could focus on was Amber’s hand, sliding up her thigh back to her hip and the way her lips must have been less than an inch away from her ear, buried in the chaos of her hair. On more time she started, with focus on that touch, anchoring her to a body that wasn’t her. There wasn’t any space between them now and Amber moved with her, connected in their imagined sound and new-practiced contact. The space that had been limitless was still there but she was secure, for once. Heat rose from her hands to her chest, burning up her breath and she had to stop for fear of suffocating on feeling.
“Safe word, safe word.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” She turned around in Amber’s arms, the girl was taller than her and she had to lean up to kiss her.
Amber pressed her up against the mirror and their heat fogged up the glass and neither of them could see anything at all except one another.
The next day seemed brighter, she had to shield her eyes and in the studio all of the reflections seemed to have found a new color. When Madame Gorski brought her walking stick down to call attention the sound seemed much less harsh.
“Sweet Pea, help Rocket today.”
The blonde looked disappointed.
“Amber, Blondie, I’ve decided to make your dances a duo, we’ll be working on it today.”
As Amber grabbed her arm her smile gave it away.
“You did this didn’t you? You sneak!”
When she turned she pulled Blondie into her, bodies arranged in a classic ballroom position, “Don’t be mad, you need me.”
And she did.