Page 64 of Velveteen vs. The Consequences of Her Actions

“Gravity only exists when there’s such a thing as up and down,” said Polychrome, sounding dazed. “I was inside a different version of my own head. Like, did that happen to you? Or did I get the special ticket for the what-the-hell express?”

“Just you and Aaron,” said Velveteen. “Jack’s a metaphorical construct, and I guess the fact that this is technically my mission kept me out of my own head.”

“Yeah,” said Polychrome. “Where is Aaron?”

“He didn’t want to give up what he never got to have.” Velveteen’s expression turned briefly sad. “Jack wouldn’t tell me exactly what it was, which I think probably means that was a world where we figured out how to make things work when we were teenagers.”

“It was,” said Polychrome, and reached for Velveteen’s hand, tangling their fingers together and holding tight. “We were braver there. I don’t know how we found it in us, but we were braver.”

“If we were brave there, we can be brave here,” said Velveteen. “It’s still in us. And if Santa Claus sent us here, it’s because there’s still something we can do. So we walk.”

“How far?”

“Until we find an ending. Jack, you with us?” Velveteen turned to look at Jack again, and stopped, eyes going wide. “Jack?”

Jacqueline Claus, adopted daughter of Santa Claus, metaphor given flesh and now pulled outside the realm of fleshy concepts, offered her a wan smile. She was translucent, more like a girl projected on the air than a girl in any actuality. “I don’t think I can exist here,” she said. “Sorry about that. I hope this doesn’t mess things up for you.”

“No,” said Velveteen, shaking her head firmly. “No, you are not going to disappear on me. We need you. We can’t get Jackie back without you.”

“Sure you can,” said Jack. “Just make a Christmas wish, and maybe it’ll come true.”

“Jack—” Velveteen reached for her, fingers closing on empty air. There was nothing there to grab onto.

Jack offered one last, flickering smile, and she was gone, leaving the two superheroines standing alone in an endless, empty nothingness.

“Um,” said Polychrome, after a long pause. “Does this sort of thing happen to you often?”

“Disturbingly more often than I like,” said Velveteen. She looked blankly at the place where Jack had been. “I keep losing people, Lena. That’s been my whole life. Losing people. I lost my parents, and then I lost you, and then I lost Tad, and Jackie, and now I’ve lost Aaron and Jack. None of you should come anywhere near me. I’m dangerous.”

“Everyone’s dangerous, Vel.” Polychrome squeezed her hand. “You lost me because I was a scared kid. I came back. You’re not going to lose me again. Pinky-swear.”

Velveteen laughed, a little unsteadily. “I don’t think infinite nothingness cares about pinky-swears.”

“Maybe not, but I do, and that’s what matters here.” Polychrome looked around the emptiness. “What do we do now?”

“I guess we keep going.” Velveteen took a cautious step forward. The nothing continued to hold her up. “All right: looks like we walk. You up for this?”

“Sounds fun,” said Polychrome, and followed.

* * *

Two women walked across an infinite plane, surrounded by absolutely nothing. They held fast to each other’s hands, as if they feared that letting go could mean being separated forever. It wasn’t an unreasonable concern, given the blankness around them. It was impossible to even tell if they were gaining ground, because there was no distance; only the emptiness.

“This isn’t working,” said Velveteen. “We’re not getting anywhere.”

“How could we tell if we were?” Polychrome shook her head. “I’m not tired. I feel like we’ve been walking for hours, but…I’m not tired.”

“Jack disappeared. That means time isn’t really passing here. If this place knew about time, she’d still be with us.”

Polychrome gave her a sidelong look. “You really don’t think she’s supposed to exist, do you?”

“No. I don’t. If you could remember Jackie Frost, you’d understand why. Jack is…Jackie made more sense as someone I’d be friends with. Aurora assigned her to befriend me, so that Winter would have a way in, but she still made sense. She wasn’t just sugar cookies and smiles. She was snide and cynical and one of my favorite people. The idea that she’s gone forever because of me, it hurts.”

“But we’re superheroes,” said Polychrome gently. “Even if you’re right—and Jack said you were, so I guess I believe you—we were always going to be taking bullets for each other. That’s part of being a team. And the way I remember things, Jack has always been on your team. That means Jackie would have been, too. If she took a bullet for you, she did it because she wanted to. Because she was your teammate, when I couldn’t be. That means she was a hero.”

“She never liked you,” said Velveteen fondly. “She used to call you horrible names, and threaten to feed you bacon.”

“Sounds like a real charmer,” said Polychrome. “I’m glad you had her.”