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Fixed versus Broken	By : anacsadder Category: +S through Z > Super Mario Brothers Views: 3978 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Mario franchise and I'm not making any money from this.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
A/N: I had posted this a few hours ago when I thought whatever they were doing to the site was over, and apparently it got lost in the shuffle or something. I'm reposting it and hoping it doesn't cause a double post.
Waluigi was quiet through most of dinner. Neither Mario nor Luigi wanted to ask her too many questions about her... new self. It didn't seem appropriate. At one point Mario finally asked her why she was running from Wario.
Her face went pale. “He was,” her voice dropped as she studied a spoonful of chili, “hurting me...”
Mario's head twitched back slightly. He knew Wario possessed a terrible temper. He'd seen him push Waluigi when he was frustrated, but he'd never thought about how he treated the taller doppelganger when no one was watching. “How do you want us to help?”
She poured the spoonful of chili back into the bowl. “I want to leave town, but I'm scared to be alone. He's going to find me and he's going to be mad when he does.”
Mario thought about his options. “I could have a word with Peach-”
“No!” Waluigi interrupted frantically. It was the most she'd raised her voice since she arrived and it startled both of the brothers. “Please, I don't...” She fumbled with how to explain. “Wario said and did a lot of things to ruin me. The toads don't recognize me. I don't want to ruin it...”
Mario frowned. “I'm sure she'd understand if I explained.”
“Please don't,” Waluigi begged. “It's really humiliating. What he did...”
Mario looked from Luigi to his doppelganger. “If anyone asks, I can tell them you're our new friend Lulu from out of town, but I can't promise how long the story will hold up.”
“I- I can stay inside, but I have to...” She considered her next words carefully. Having nothing and needing everything was exactly how she got tangled up with Wario. She could trust Mario and Luigi, though. “I can earn my keep. I used to do things for Wario. House things,” she added quickly, hoping they didn't see the blush at the tips of her ears. “I'm not bad at it.”
“Our new maid Lulu from out of town?” Mario looked at his brother again. He didn't say out loud, but they exchanged a look that conveyed his thoughts well enough. Mario spent a lot of time out of the house. Luigi was the one that would be home alone with her. It was really up to him.
As far as Luigi could tell, the Waluigi he'd known and feared had been completely altered. Sure, she still possessed some of her stubborn pride, but the quiet, twitchy desperation she'd acquired jarred most of his preconceptions. Whatever Wario had done during the last six months must've been bad. “I could use some company when Mario's out...”
Mario nodded and Waluigi kept her head down for the rest of the meal.
000
Luigi stared at his dark ceiling. The figure on the other mattress had curled into a ball as far away from him as she could get. He was okay with that. The whole thing was pretty awkward. It was the reason he couldn't sleep. One of the reasons. His brain kept running in horrible circles, wondering what sort of horrible circles her thoughts must be tracing. She hadn't moved, but he could hear her breathing and she didn't sound asleep, either. “Lulu?” He whispered.
There was a very long silence. Just as Luigi started to think maybe she was asleep, he heard a muffled, “Yes?”
“Are you...” he fumbled, “okay?”
“Really?” She asked in a flat voice.
That definitely sounded more like the Waluigi he used to know. “I'm just wondering if there's anything I can do to help you, I don't know, sleep or something...” As soon as the words left his mouth, he expected a response like, 'yeah, stop talking.' After another long silence, he received a much different response.
“Do you think I need fixing?”
The question surprised Luigi. “I don't know. Why?”
She still felt broken sometimes and she didn't know what to do. At the same time, Luigi surely didn't know any better than she did. “I know how you can help me sleep.”
“How?” Luigi asked.
“Stop talking.”
There it was. Luigi wasn't upset, though. The corners of his mouth actually twitched upwards in the dark. “Sorry.”
000
The other half of the bed was empty when Luigi opened his eyes. He sat up and spotted the red shoes on the floor by the door. He rubbed his eyes as he made his way to the stairs. Mario's door was still closed, but he could hear someone in the kitchen. He found her standing at the stove with a pan. The smell of sausage and onion permeated the air. “Wow, that smells great. I didn't know you cooked...”
She shrugged. “I used to do stuff for Wario.”
“Do you need help?” Luigi asked.
“Help?” She looked puzzled. “No, it's almost done.” She opened a cupboard and plucked a plate off a shelf that Luigi always had to stretch reach. Her posture was much straighter and she moved almost gracefully because of it, bending and reaching like a ballerina.
As she shifted her weight onto one foot and leaned, the edge of the skirt pulled up just enough to reveal the bottom edge of a large, circular area of lighter skin. Luigi stared. It looked like a burn. What could've created a scar that size and shape?
“Do you want-” She turned and stopped as Luigi's gaze snapped guiltily back to her face.
Luigi's face flushed bright red. He knew what she thought, but before he could open his mouth to explain himself he realized the explanation wasn't any better. 'I wasn't staring at your butt, I was staring at that massive burn on the back of your thigh' sounded just as invasive and gawking. Then he noticed she didn't look mad or embarrassed. She looked scared. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean- I-” his blush deepened. It would've been easier if she looked angry. The fear made him feel worse. “I was wondering what did that, I didn't mean to pry...”
She slowly processed his meaning, and then turned her back to him. “I burned Wario's bacon.”
Luigi watched her flip the contents of the pan onto a plate. He recognized the shape and he felt bad for bringing it up. “That's terrible,” he said.
She actually looked less upset when she turned around to bring him the omelet, though. “I told you he's crazy. What do you want to drink?”
Grateful for the change of subject, but feeling awkward having a someone wait on him--despite the previous arrangement--Luigi fumbled out, “Orange juice, I guess?” He watched her pour the drink, put the glass and a fork on the table next to him, and step back. She stood with her hands clasped in front her and her head bowed. “Are you going to eat anything?” Luigi asked.
“I don't eat breakfast,” she said.
“At least sit down and drink something.”
She hesitated. Then she got herself a glass of water and sat across from him. Her eyes wandered continuously between the clock on the stove and her glass, but she didn't drink any of it.
“This is really good,” Luigi said. The silence was digging at him. She looked so depressed, too. Maybe he could start a conversation and make her smile. “Did you think this up yourself?”
Waluigi shrugged, “Just threw some stuff together...” Her ears suddenly perked up. She stood moved quickly to the stove as Mario's door opened upstairs. He joined them shortly after. He thanked her for cooking, asked if she was hungry, received the same response that Luigi had received.
000
Mario left the house to take care of some business a little before noon. Luigi stay home to keep Waluigi company. The doppelganger was convinced Wario would show up at the door any moment. After a few attempts to start conversation ended in failure, Luigi sat on the couch and opened a book. She remained in the kitchen for a while. He heard her go up the stairs, down the stairs, into the laundry room, back up the stairs. At first she moved purposefully and with direction. As the day wore on, her wandering grew more aimless and restless. She finally settled at the other end of the couch from Luigi and put her chin on her knees. Luigi watched her with one eye, but waited to see if she would speak.
“Wario's house was twenty times as big,” she started in a small voice. “I used to spend all day cleaning it. I don't know what to do with myself.”
Luigi lowered his book. “We could go for a walk or-”
She shook her head and hid her face.
“I know you're afraid of being seen, but all of our neighbors are toads. They're not going to care."
“He knows I'm here. He only left because he doesn't want to fight both of you at the same time.” She rocked a little. “He's lazy, not stupid.”
“What do you think he's going to do? Camp outside until he sees me and Mario leave?” Luigi asked skeptically.
She shrugged. “He won't let me go.” She closed her eyes as one of her earliest memories--or was it his last memory?--played on the insides of her lids. “He spent a lot of money fixing...” She paused and frowned. Then she said, “He'll be back for his investment. I know he will.”
That was the second time she'd mentioned money and fixing. When she thought he was ogling her, she'd been afraid. What did Wario do to her? Luigi had a terrible idea, but he couldn't ask. If he had to ask, she wouldn't answer, anyway. “You must be hungry at least...”
“Are you?” She asked. “I could make lunch.”
“I was thinking maybe I could try making something for you,” Luigi suggested.
Her cheeks puffed. “You're so fucking nice,” she mumbled.
Luigi raised an eyebrow. “Is that a yes?” He pressed.
Her shoulders slumped. Her head bobbed. “Yes,” she admitted.
He made them some sandwiches and finally convinced her to at least eat outside in the backyard. They sat side by side in the grass quietly watching the moths flit from weed to weed. Neither Mario nor Luigi was particularly adept at yard work.
“Did anyone miss me at the race?” She suddenly asked.
“Peach asked. That's how we got the story about you running away.”
There was a brooding pause, and then she asked, “Did you miss me?”
Luigi's face felt hot and it wasn't because of the sun. “It... definitely was different without you there. Why- Why?”
“Wario said that no one cared I was gone.”
“I'm sure they would've cared if they'd known why you were gone,” Luigi pointed out.
“Being pitied isn't the same thing as being cared for,” she mumbled.
Luigi opened his mouth to protest, and then stopped. In a way, she was right. He sighed. “I don't know why you have to be so stubborn. I'm trying to be nice.”
“I don't know why you have to be so nice when I'm trying to be stubborn.”
Luigi finally looked at her. She grinned at him sideways. It was a thankful grin. He snorted a short chuckle and the two went back to contemplating the grass.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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