RotG- Memories

Summary: When Cupcake thinks no one cares about or understands her any longer, Tooth sends help. One-shot. (Contains LGBTQ themes and mentions of self-harm)

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"That's why we collect the teeth, Jack. They hold the most important memories of childhood. My fairies and I watch over them. And when someone needs to remember what's important, we help them."

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"No one understands!"

Cupcake lay sprawled out on her bed, glaring at the ceiling. She stayed where she was, refusing to budge, until the ruckus from the living room slowly died down. A moment later, she heard the front door slamming shut and a car being revved up. When an eerie silence began to take over, Cupcake slid down from her bed and headed straight for the bathroom.

The blade in the cabinet had not been touched in a long time and it was so rusty that if the blade didn't kill anyone, tetanus would. Cupcake toyed with it, gazing at her forlorn expression in the bathroom mirror. This is it, she thought. After only 15 years.

Before she could do anything else, a ringing sound shattered the silence of the house. Cupcake had a fierce internal debate, before tossing the blade back into the cabinet and answering the phone.

"Cupcake!"

"Jamie? What do you want?"

"Um..." The boy was slightly taken aback by her tone, but when Cupcake remained silent, he continued. "Well, we're heading out for a movie tomorrow... care to join us?"

Cupcake hesitated. Would she even be around the next day to go for a movie? Finally, she nodded, then remembering that Jamie couldn't see her, responded, "Yeah, sure."

"Great!" Jamie enthused. "See y-" Before he could finish, Cupcake hung up, and headed straight back for the bathroom. She toyed with the blade once more, but something else was niggling at her. Upon hearing Jamie's voice, Jamie, the wimp she used to detest, memories of a certain battle flashed in her mind, and somehow, it dulled her resolve to... end things. Slowly, she hid the blade in the back of the cabinet and shut the door.

"Not today," she whispered, but couldn't help feeling rather pathetic.

Walking back out into her room, Cupcake noticed the half-cylindrical box resting on her pillow immediately. "What is this?" she muttered, frowning, as she picked it up and glanced around her bedroom, wondering if anyone had snuck in and decided to play a trick on her. She had heard a soft tingling sound. Well, whoever it was, they would most certainly regret what they did when she caught them!

The box had a flat surface with a diamond pattern on it while the rest of its exterior was gold. At both ends, Cupcake's face smiled back at her. Tentatively, she touched the flat surface, tracing one of the diamonds.

#

"I... can't. I just can't. Tell me, is there something wrong with her? What would you suggest?" Cupcake couldn't place the tone of her mother's voice, but it was definitely anything but positive. The fact that her name had been mentioned many times didn't make her feel any more comfortable.

The man with the kindly face, the one who always smiled and tried to talk to her, sighed. "It could be anxiety, or ADHD." He turned and gave her one of those sympathetic looks. Cupcake had no idea what he'd just said, but it made her mother look distressed. By then, she was feeling really uncomfortable. And as usual, she burst into tears.

#

"Do I really need to eat that again?" Cupcake asked, frowning at the tiny circular things in her mother's palm. 'Pills' she called them.

"Yes, dear." Her mother sounded pained, as she pressed them into her palm and handed her a glass of water, as she always did. Reluctantly, the child swallowed them. "That's a good boy. Now, go get changed. We need to leave soon."

"Mom, you know I don't like you calling me a boy," young Cupcake pouted.

Her mother's forehead creased. "Then what should I call you?" She stroked her son's head. "You are a boy. Now, get changed quickly." Without another word, the older woman got up and left the room.

#

It was probably the happiest day of her life.

Pink frocks with lace, t-shirts with unicorns and rainbows on them, a tutu and sparkly shoes! They contrasted greatly with the camo pants and numbered t-shirts that she had always despised, in her cupboard, but Cupcake tore down her old clothes and hung up her new ones. Then she picked up her new unicorn plush toy and leaped onto her bed, smiling so widely her face was starting to hurt.

Her mother was watching her. Cupcake couldn't help noticing that she looked a little sad. Her smile faltered. "What's wrong?"

The older woman shook her head. "Nothing, sweetheart. As long as you're happy." The last line seemed to be meant for herself more than her s- her daughter. The daughter she never knew she had.

#

Cupcake lifted her chin a little, surveying her reflection in the mirror, tracing a finger down the length of her neck.

"There's nothing there. You have a swan's neck," her mother stated gently, as she ran her fingers through her daughter's short brown hair, which the child had decided she didn't want to grow out.

Cupcake teared up a little. "I don't want it. I don't want that... thing in the throat like daddy has," she choked out. She felt her mother's arms wrapping themselves around her.

"Don't worry, kiddo. You won't get it."

#

While every other kid went to the doctor occasionally due to fever, cough and whatnot, Cupcake paid more frequent visits, receiving jabs she was sure other kids didn't. She never talked about it at school, though. In fact, she didn't talk to anyone at school.

"Why won't you try to make friends with the other kids?" her mother asked, looking out of the kitchen window at a group of kids walking past. She recognised a few of them; one was that Bennett kid, whose mother was always joking about how her son seemed to live in a world of his own, another was that sweet girl... what was her name again? Pippa?

"I don't want to. If they know wh-what I am, they might hate me. I'd rather they not know who I am than hate me," Cupcake replied, turning her back to the window as the group walked past. It happened in elementary school, when the unfortunate girl had accidentally walked into the cubicle with the broken door latch, which Cupcake had been occupying. The girl's screams still echoed in her ears.

"Why would they hate you?" her mother asked, as though it wasn't already obvious.

"Because I'm... I'm different."

Her mother knelt down next to her, and ran her fingers through her hair again. "You're not different, Cupcake. You're special."

#

The box fell from her fingers onto the floor with a clatter. Cupcake hurried downstairs and grabbed the phone, but paused momentarily. Would she sound pathetic? She pursed her lips and punched in her mother's number. When no one was picking up on the fifth ring, Cupcake considered hanging up, but then her mother's voice came through.

"Hello?"

"Mom?"

"Cupcake? Is something wrong? Did something happen?"

"No, no, nothing. I..." She trailed off.

"Honey?"

Cupcake took a deep breath. She silently counted to three, planning to just say everything and then quickly hang up. "Mom, I... I just wanted to say I'm sorry for saying you never cared about or understood me okay? That's all. Bye." Without another word, she hung up.

Back in her room, Cupcake slipped the box into her bag. She couldn't wait to tell Jamie and the others all about it. The memories part would have to be left out, of course.