The Chain - Bleighton RPS [1/5]
Title: The Chain
Fandom: RPF
Pairing: Blake/Leighton
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: They’re not mine. They just hang out in my head and make out. Also - all of this are made up. Like, it’s completely AU. So don’t sue me for anything that is not true because I warned you.
Summary: It started with a door and a chain.
A/N: This was largely inspired by Ingrid Michaelson’s song, The Chain, on which the title of the story is based off. Also, the collaboration piece of Sara Bareilles and Ingrid Michaelson, Winter Song, played a role in constructing this story.
A?N: I've been writing this story, on and off, since winter break. I would've finished it sooner, but then I ws held captive by a distraction-fic that I wrote earlier this month.
A/N: This is unbeta-ed, though I have tried my best to look over my own errors. If there are any glaring ones that take away from the story, do let me know. Constructive criticisms are good times. Thanks for reading.
--
So glide away and so be healed
and promise not to promise anymore
and if you come around again then I will take,
then I will take the chain from off the door.
- The Chain, Ingrid Michaelson
This is my winter song.
December never felt so wrong,
cause youre not where you belong;
inside my arms.
- Winter Song, Ingrid Michaelson & Sara Bareilles
--
Reading a tattered book in the backseat of a minivan, Blake Lively waited until she and her parents arrived at their new apartment. See, her family was nomadic in nature. They could not find satisfaction in one place. She knew that everything was temporary, so she never tried to form lasting relationships with those she met over the years. She knew it even early on in life. She didn’t blame anybody. It would be nice, she figured, but she didn’t know anything else. Moving away and never staying in one place was how her family functioned. She saw more pavement and horizons than faces and names of people. Blake would wonder at times, looking back on all the traveling and moving, if her parents were hiding from something, from anything. If they wanted to escape to somewhere else. If they thought that since happiness was fleeting, they’d beat it to the punch.
After settling into their new home, apartment 4C, Blake decided to venture off to see if there would be anybody that would want to play with her, even just for now. After overhearing her parents talk about the neighbors with a child Blake’s age across the hall, the adventurous nine year old girl decided to take matters into her own hands and invite the girl across the hall to play with her. Maybe she’d even remember her when she grows up. She is, after all, at that time when she could if she really wanted to.
She fisted her right hand and knocked, waiting for an answer. She waited five Mississippis before knocking again. She was on her way to the next five when she heard muffled sounds coming from the other side of the door. Her raised arm slowly, cautiously, fell to her side and anticipated the face of a parent asking what she was doing at their doorstep. Instead, however, she was met by expressive brown eyes that looked up at her from a small space between the door and the wall. The girl was just slightly shorter than Blake with brown hair that was just a tinge darker than her expressive brown eyes. She had a slight pout and a fairer complexion in comparison to Blake’s tanned skin. Blake smiled.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I’m your new neighbor.”
“Hi, new neighbor,” the little girl with the expressive brown eyes said.
“I’m Blake.”
“I’m…” she started, looking back at something inside before facing Blake again. “Leighton. I’m Leighton.”
Blake furrowed her eyebrows. “What kind of name is that?”
“What kind of name is Blake…for a girl?” Leighton asked, offended, her expressive brown eyes no longer. Blake only shrugged her shoulders. They eyed each other for a moment before Blake finally asked what she came out there to do.
“Can you come out and play?”
“No.”
“Why not?” She thought it might have been because of what she said about Leighton’s name that the other girl refused. It wasn’t. Leighton sighed, the way adults should, not little nine year old girls, as her brown eyes travelled to the same spot somewhere inside of the apartment that it landed on moments earlier. Leighton looked back at Blake.
“My mom is sleeping. No one will be watching me. Plus, I can’t reach the chain on our door.” She looked up and pointed with her eyes that there was a faded gold chain that stopped the door from opening wider. Blake followed Leighton’s gaze and saw that there was, indeed, a highly placed chain on the door. One that made it pretty much impossible to make a playmate out of the smaller girl in front of her.
“Oh, okay. Uh, I guess I’ll see you around.”
She offered a slight smile before swiftly turning around to travel back the nine steps it took for her to walk from her doorstep to Leighton’s. On her fourth and a half step, Blake heard a voice.
“Wait!”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t have anyone else to play with,” the voice said softly, almost embarrassed. Her expressive brown eyes were cast down as her right hand fiddled with the chipping paint off the door, the left twisting the door knob from the inside.
The fourth and a half step made its way back to the fourth, then the third, then the second, then the first until she was facing the other girl.
“Then I’ll play with you here,” Blake said presenting an identical smile from earlier.
“Really?” The downcast eyes glanced up with a smile before it reached her small, nine year old lips.
“Yeah.”
“Thanks.”
Blake’s only response to Leighton’s gratitude was to take a seat by the door, gesturing for the girl with the expressive brown eyes to follow suit. She did.
Over the following weeks, Blake and Leighton would play by the brunette’s doorway, with the limited space made available by the faded gold chain that held firm. In the beginning, Blake wanted Leighton to ask her mom to open the door for her, but Leighton always hesitated. She would turn away from Blake’s pleading, hopeful gaze and stare at what Blake assumed, to be where Leighton’s mother slept. It wasn’t until after a month or so since they met that Leighton explained to her new friend that her mother worked late shifts as a waitress in a diner a couple of miles from their apartment building. She did not want to disturb her mother, so she would rather play by the chained door than wake her mother from what little rest she got. Blake looked at Leighton who could hardly return the gaze.
Leighton was lying.
Her expressive brown eyes were as honest as nothing else that Blake had ever seen. And even she could see that Leighton didn’t want to admit this lie to her, either. But Leighton’s hesitated responses were always curt and Blake knew she couldn’t get anything out of the other girl any more than what she had been told. She soon dropped the subject knowing it wasn’t worth the trouble. She never asked after that.
Instead, they sat by Leighton’s door, taking their usual spots, and formed a friendship unlike any they’d ever had before. They would sit there for hours talking about what they liked to do, what they saw on the television, what they saw out their windows, and what they saw of their futures. They shared with each other hopes and dreams that form in nine year old minds. What they formed was a friendship that became a standard for the years to come, the future friendships with others.
They read aloud stories out of books and out of their imaginations. Blake was always animated when she talked, her eyes lighting up. Leighton would watch, from her side of the door, and feel the enthusiasm that Blake put in her every word. It was a breath of fresh air. Even through the small opening the door offered, she could feel it all. When it was the young brunette’s turn to speak her mind, there was always hesitation, securing her words to be exactly what she wanted, needed, it to say. She was thankful that Blake always looked attentive and interested. She would wonder, years later, if she truly was good at keeping the things she needed to keep or if Blake was simply playing along.
They were inseparable when Blake came home from school. Leighton was always already home before she got there and it made the young child wonder if her neighbor ever went to school. But she never asked about it because after Leighton told her about her mother, she didn’t want to make her angry. It was those brown expressive eyes that were so honest, it told everything, even the things that Leighton probably didn’t want Blake to know. All the young blonde had to do to know her neighbor was to look into those eyes. Leighton didn’t wear her heart on her sleeve, she wore it even closer, her emotions flashing in her eyes. The fear, the laughter, the secrets, the mirth, the hesitation, the happiness - they were all there. It would be her best and worst feature.
The two girls became best friends quickly, finding solace and security from each other. Even after making six other friends in the six other places that Blake’s family had lived in, this would have to be her favorite because Leighton turned out to be her favorite. And she knew that the next time she moved, Leighton would still be a favorite.
Unfortunately, the next time Blake moved came a lot sooner than the two expected. Only ten months after the Livelys came into town did they end up leaving it. The news surprised Blake more than she thought it would. She had anticipated at least another six months, even a year. Instead, she was given six days to gather up all the memories she could put in her blue My Little Pony bag to take with her when it was time to leave.
Telling Leighton was going to be a memory she didn’t want to have. Leighton was going to be a memory she didn’t want to have. Before their last day together, nine year old Blake decided that Leighton was not going to be a memory. She would remain something present in her life. She didn’t know what she was going to do to make that happen because she was just a nine year old with a best friend she had to leave, but she’d make it work, somehow.
The day for Blake to leave had come and she didn’t want to face it. All the other times was fine, but she had never been more attached to anyone outside of her family as she had with Leighton. Come to think of it, Blake had grown attached to Leighton because somewhere down the line, she’d become someone irreplaceable, she’d become family.
“You’re leaving.” Leighton’s voice was neutral and quiet as she sat with her back to the wall, her right side facing Blake who was looking at her, hoping to gauge some kind of response. Her voice was soft and meek and sad. It wasn’t whiny and it wasn’t begging for anything, demanding anything. It held no malice, it held no frustration, it didn’t even hold anger. All it held was the little girl’s resignation to the fact. And that was more painful to endure than the myriad of emotions Blake had expected.
Blake knew Leighton would be sad, she was too. But there were emotions that her best friend had expressed she couldn’t completely understand. She wanted to, she wanted to know, but her nine year old mind just couldn’t grasp all of it as much as she tried. And that, well, that just made her feel inadequate.
Blake often thought how different her neighbor was from anybody she had ever met. She became an adult when it came to her emotions and she wished she knew what it meant, but she didn’t because she was only nine years old and she hadn’t lived a lot of life yet. It seemed, however, that Leighton had.
“Yeah.”
“Where are you going?” she asked in a whisper, turning her head, finally looking at the blonde just outside her door.
“Wherever my parents want to go, I suppose.” The blonde couldn’t handle the stare that her neighbor was giving her so she placed her back on the door and leant on the doorsill, her eyes trained on her twisting hands. She couldn’t look back. It was too hard.
“Are you coming back?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you gonna come back?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you know, Blake?” she asked in a frustrated tone. To Leighton, Blake was the girl who had an answer for everything, even if they were wrong. As they spent hours by her door, she could rely on Blake to make things up on the spot, to ask a question in response to a question, to speak just to fill the silence. She appreciated and needed the sound of Blake’s voice to seep into her mind and camp out. It was the one thing that made sure that she wasn’t alone. To hear such uncertainty made Leighton fearful that Blake would just turn into an old neighbor she once had, when she was young, a friendship to be locked up in the attic only to be remembered through nostalgia.
Nothing, she thought. She knew nothing. She didn’t even know of a lie to tell her best friend just to ease both of their minds. She sighed.
“I don’t know all about those grown-up stuff, but I know that it’s your birthday next week,” she said as she opened her bag full of memories and pulled out a rectangular box wrapped in paper with multicolored letters that spelled HAPPY BIRTHDAY and a bright yellow ribbon on the corner.
“You remembered?” Leighton’s eyes landed on the box and she could barely get the words out. She didn’t expect her best friend to remember. She didn’t expect anyone to remember, after all, her mother didn’t.
“I’d never forget, Leigh. I put it on my calendar that one time you told me. Anyway, I got you a gift.” The blonde slid the rectangular box sideways so it would fit through the door and watched the birthday girl carefully as her mouth opened and closed without a word coming out.
“What is it?” Leighton held the box as if it was something sacred, almost afraid of holding it in her small grasp. Blake rolled her pretty blue eyes, keeping the mood light.
“Why would I tell you? There’s no fun in that. Just open it.”
Inside the wrapped box was the Dr. Seuss’s book, Oh the Places You’ll Go! The birthday girl ran her hand on the cover, marveled by the bright colors, being taunted by the clear, crisp pages to be turned. Leighton looked at her best friend with a series of emotions, not knowing which one to pick. The look on her face was enough for Blake as the blonde formed a wonderful smile.
“It’s beautiful.”
“You like it?”
“I love it.”
“Are you sure?” Self-insecurity started to seep in. “I mean, I know you’re good at reading, but I saw this at the bookstore when me and my mom went and over the summer my cousin read it to me and I really liked it.” Leighton listened as her eyes gulped in the simple fact that she had a present for her birthday. A present from someone she loved and cared for. A present from her best friend. She turned the pages and skimmed over the colorful pages, awe and amazement evident on her face. She closed it and placed it back in the box before Blake’s voice interrupted her.
“There’s one more!”
Leighton looked at her best friend questioningly only to be answered with a shrug and an excited smile.
The thick booklet turned out to be a map of the world with a blue and red sticker in the city that they were in. When the birthday girl looked at Blake for answers, Blake hesitated for a little, wondering if this was a good idea after all.
“Okay, well, my dad helped me with that. There’s a red and blue sticker for you and me. I’m the blue and you’re the red. That’s us. All the other blue stickers are the places I’ve been to.” Leighton kept silent looking at the map that stared back at her with multiple blue dots that were scattered in several areas.
“What do I do with it?”
“Oh, uh, since I’ll be moving a lot, I’d send you a postcard or something and send it to you here so you can put a sticker to where I am. And then when you get to go somewhere, you can put a sticker to where you’re going. That way, you’d know where you are and where I am. You can put it on your wall so you can see it better and even figure out where you wanna go. Like a country in Africa or Australia or something.”
“I love it, Blake. Thank you.” Leighton’s smile was huge and it reached those expressive brown eyes of hers. That was thank you enough for her.
“Happy Birthday, Leighton.”
The two girls fell into a companionable silence as Leighton continued to marvel at her birthday gifts and Blake marveling at the genuine reaction that her best friend had to her birthday present. It didn’t take long before the birthday girl offered to read the book out loud and for Blake to pay close attention. After they finished reading, Leighton closed the book and they sat back in silence. A minute or so later, Leighton spoke.
“You know, I’ve always liked your name. Even for a girl.” Blake smiled her thanks.
“I’ve always liked yours too.”
More silence.
Blake’s mother swung their door open and told her that they would have to leave in a couple of minutes and that she needed to say goodbye. Leighton didn’t bother look at Blake as she looked at her mother. Instead, she fixed her eyes at the unfolded map and the blue and red stickers.
“I promise to visit, Leighton,” she offered, holding up her pinky, hoping that this would be some kind of reassurance for either of them. Blake knew about promises. She’d made a lot in her short life. She knew she had to promise to keep in touch with her old friends, to remember them, to make sure that she got remembered. Even at nine years old she knew the value of it - how it kept people from changing, how it kept her to stay as she was when she made the promise. This was one of her tokens to make sure that Leighton doesn’t become a memory; doesn’t change.
The birthday girl, however, didn’t move or say a word for what felt like a million years to a nine year old.
“No,” she said, “don’t promise. Just do it.”
“But if I don’t promise, I might not come back. How would you know if I’ll really come back?” If her only reassurance was denied, she didn’t know what she would do.
“Because the Earth is round, Blake. See?” she said, holding the map to prove her point. She was only met with a confused face.
“I don’t get it.”
“It’s a circle, Blake. You end up where you started,” she said as if it was the most logical thing in the world and that she should have known.
“Oh, okay.” Truth be told, Blake didn’t understand. She didn’t know what circles and rounds and Earth had to do with anything, but she’d accept and believe and take whatever Leighton was telling her because that’s all she could have.
“I promise not to promise. I’ll just come back.” If she couldn’t promise, she’d promise not to promise.
Leighton glanced at her before looking back down to her birthday gifts. Neither said a word after that, though. They were nine year olds. What did they know? Promises were different to children. And however way either of them felt, they were still children that didn’t know much of anything, relying on those older than them to tell them how the world worked.
Eventually, Blake’s dad came out with a duffel bag and he smiled gently at Blake, telling her that it was time to go. Blake nodded without a trace of emotion in her face and he knew that it was starting to get to the point where she was learning, slowly, the consequences and repercussions of all the moving and leaving and settling. He only offered a hand on her head and a small smile only fathers could give before turning toward the staircase. He left the two girls alone.
Blake looked at the birthday girl, her best friend, her neighbor and gave the most sincere apology her nine year old self could muster without the use of words. She wasn’t going to say goodbye. Goodbyes would defeat the purpose of keeping Leighton away from being just a memory. Goodbyes wouldn’t work for children. Children didn’t know much, right? So goodbyes wouldn’t mean much, either.
“Here,” Blake said and she stuck her hand out for the birthday girl to take. Leighton set her gifts down and nine - almost ten - year old Leighton took the hand and shook it, smiling.
That was promise enough.
--
Part Two