Page 114 of Velveteen vs. The Consequences of Her Actions

With an effort that seemed to go all the way down to her toes, she turned her eyes away from the apple to his face. His eyes were closed, dark lashes resting against his cheeks, and while she knew he was dead, he looked more alive than she felt.

“Hi, Tad,” she said, resting a hand momentarily atop the coffin before sinking to the floor and leaning up against it, hugging her knees to her chest. “I know you’ve been waiting for me. True love’s kiss and all of that. I’m sorry it’s taken so long. I’ve just been trying to deal with my feelings for—well, pretty much everything. My head’s a mess. I’d say I need therapy, but any therapist worth their degree would tell me I had so many issues that I shouldn’t be patrolling, and I can’t give that up. Not after I fought so hard to get it back.”

She laughed, high and a little shrill, then leaned her head back against the coffin, closing her eyes. “It’s funny. I think that’s the word I want, anyway. It’s funny, because I went so long fighting against the idea that I was ever going to be a superhero again, and now I feel like I’m not good for being anything else. This is what I know. This is the community I belong to, and this is who I want to be. I’m always Vel, whether I’m Velveteen or Velma, and it feels like accepting that is better than all the therapy I could ask for.”

She sighed. “I miss you, Tad. I miss your laugh. I miss the way you move. I miss a lot of things, but I worry I’m too selfish in my missing you to love you the way you deserve, because what if I just miss having another animus in the world? I’m all alone now that Supermodel’s gone. I don’t like being alone. Rabbits live in colonies, and superheroes live in teams, and you’re supposed to be here. But I only get one shot at this. What if I get it wrong?”

There wasn’t a sound to tell her that she wasn’t alone any longer, just a faint, almost indefinable shift in the texture of the air. Vel didn’t open her eyes.

“Hey, Princess,” she said. “I thought you weren’t entertaining visitors today.”

“I’m not,” drawled the Princess. “I’m in a pretty foul mood, for some pretty good reasons. But it seemed like you might be going for it, and I wanted to be here to see it when you did. Jackie’d kill me if I missed it.”

That didn’t sound right. Jack had never gone by “Jackie,” and she’d never been particularly close to Tad, having never done a winter special with him or anything. Still, something about it was so painfully correct that Vel couldn’t help but nod. “She’s probably missed him almost as much as I have. Does true love’s kiss have to be romantic?”

“Never has before,” said the Princess. “But I don’t think she could ever have been the one to wake him. Not now, anyway, and please don’t ask what I mean by that, because I don’t know. Everything is sort of tangled up right now, where she’s concerned.”

Vel did open her eyes at that, blinking repeatedly as she turned toward the golden-haired goddess who called herself the Princess. As always when she was at home, she was wearing a gorgeous, glamorous ball gown, this one pink and blue, trimmed with unseasonal but breathtakingly lovely crystal snowflakes. “What do you mean?” Vel asked.

“I mean that after that little dinosaur adventure we just got out of, it feels like Jack’s story is in flux somehow. I keep forgetting things I ought to know, and remembering things that just don’t fit right with the rest. I can’t find her. I can’t find her, and I’m worried that she’s stuck somewhere, scared and waiting for us to save her.”

“So why didn’t you ask the rest of us for help?”

“Because I’m also worried that she’s not out there to be found.” The Princess sighed heavily. “She’s a Spirit of the Season. Maybe her part in the holiday is finished. It’s happened before.”

“I hope not. I love her too.”

“I know you do, Vel. But back to the reason you’re here. You gonna kiss that boy today?”

“I don’t know,” Vel admitted. “I want to kiss that boy. I want to kiss him so badly it burns. But part of me is scared that I only want to kiss him because I remember how much the dinosaur version of me loved the dinosaur version of him, and what if that’s not good enough? You said I only get one chance. What if I waste it because I want someone who doesn’t exist?”

“I like girls,” said the Princess, with a bluntness that startled Vel momentarily into silence. “I like boys, too, but not as much as I like girls. And even setting aside the PR nightmare I would cause if I went public about it, Jack never liked girls the way I do. It wasn’t about the trans thing. It was about not wanting to be with a girl that way. Or a boy, or anyone else. Jack just doesn’t like people like that.”

Vel blinked. “I…okay?”

“No matter what, she’s never going to be with me the way Torrey is with Lena, or the way you could be with Tag, but she loves me all the same, and I love her, and if that’s not true love, I don’t know my stories the way I thought I did. True love takes a lot of shapes. If you think you love the boy because part of you loves another version of him, well, that’s worked out all right for Lena and Torrey, hasn’t it?”

Vel nodded, very slowly, and turned so that she was facing the coffin. She reached up to rest a hand against the lid, then pushed, as gently as she could.

It slid easily, like it had just been waiting for this moment. Too easily; it kept sliding long past the point where it should have stopped, slipping right off the rest of the coffin and shattering on the floor on the other side. Vel gasped, recoiling. The Princess laughed.

“Can’t change the world without breaking something,” she said. “It’s all right, Vel. I’ll get some squirrels in here to clean that all up when you’re done.”

“All…all right,” said Vel, attention going back to Tad. She leaned closer, until she could smell the apple juice on his lips. Not on his breath. He didn’t have any breath for her to smell.

The reality of what she was about to do crested and broke over her like a wave. He was a dead man. He was a corpse, a literal corpse, and she was about to kiss him. That wasn’t sanitary. It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t all that different from the four months when she’d been using her powers to animate his body and push it through the motions of a normal life. They’d done more than kiss during that time. Could she really be revolted now?

She could feel her powers gathering, trying to push forward and reestablish the link between herself and Tad. This would be so much easier if he could look at her, if he could smile, if he could consent. But he had consented, when he ate the apple. He’d agreed she could bring him here, to this liminal slice of the living fairy tale that was the Princess’s proximity, and use fairy tale rules to bring him home. He wanted her here. He loved her enough to believe she could do this.

He loved her. And she wanted him to be here with her so much that it hurt. She leaned farther forward, closing the last of the distance between them, and pressed her lips to his own.

The apple juice was still sweet. And nothing happened.

Vel gasped as she pulled back and slumped beside the coffin, still on her knees, resting most of her weight on the knuckles of one hand, the other hand starfished against the side of the coffin. The Princess sighed. “Oh, honey,” she said, heels clicking on the floor as she moved closer. Her hand settled on Vel’s shoulder, and the bunny-eared heroine turned toward her, starting to sob.

“I thought you had it, honey,” said the Princess. “I really thought this was going to be the kiss that changed the world. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, for the both of you.”

Vel clung to the side of her dress and kept sobbing, burying her face in the scratchy, crystal-covered fabric.