The brothers ignored her, as they usually did.
Never mind it was her desire to have a place to call her own. Never mind that she was the one that had pleaded for months on end, gradually wearing down their father until he agreed. Never mind that she was the only one that had actually helped him build it, breaking three nails and smashing a thumb in the process. Never mind that she was the only one that had ever bothered to clean it up when a mess was left.
The tree house still belonged, in every since of the word, to the brothers.
They were no longer her brothers, not after that final betrayal. What was to have been her dream house was now their fort. She was only allowed in under the strictest rules: she was not to talk or play with them, as she would ruin it with her girliness.
Oh, how quickly they forgot.
Who was it that had taken the blame when Hank had busted the window in their father's favorite car with an ill-timed baseball?
Who was it that had kicked Roy Thomas in the gut when he'd taken Merlin's lunch money for the last time?
And who was it that had sat up all night with Wallace and Wayne when they'd both been too sickly to even get out of bed?
All these things, these sacrifices, these acts of love had gone unrewarded, unappreciated, and after a short time, unremembered. And still they insisted on taking from her, sometimes things she would've given willingly, if only they had the decency to ask.
But still, because she wasn't the firstborn, she remained the little sister, even though she'd been born second. Everyone conveniently forgot that when push came to shove, she could have Hank on the ground screaming for their mother in five seconds flat, if she wanted. But all that served to do was get her punished, as well as distance her from her siblings even more. So she let Hank think he was top dog, simply because there wasn't much choice.
That still didn't excuse his part in the taking of her dream house, though. She had decided long ago that even the twins weren't innocent. Even as the youngest, they had two votes in every matter, enough at least to tie, and yet they always agreed with Hank. The little traitors never once stopped to consider her feelings, and Merlin only ever thought about himself, anyway.
She hated them all. They didn't even have the decency to acknowledge her hatred; she was just part of the scenery to them.
Having no one to play with or talk to, she had eventually begun talking and playing with herself. An invisible friend was just childish, and she was not a child. She had ceased being a child when her brothers had taken her childhood from her in that swift, cruel, thoughtless act of swiping her dream house.
At first, there had only been the anger. When they hurt her, she lashed out instinctively, and ended up breaking Hank's nose three separate times. But then there had been talk of sending her away, so she'd found it necessary to find another outlet. She discovered that there was a part of her that didn't really want to hurt her brothers…although it had no problem defending itself if they drove her to it. Both sides seemed to have a certain flare for aggression, so no matter who was in control, a good beating was almost guaranteed.
It got to the point where the boys were afraid of her. Too afraid to even tell their parents, which pleased her to no end. Certainly, she could've gotten her way all the time, but someone would've noticed. Instead, she cherished the small victories: taking over the TV when her favorite shows were on, being first to use the bathroom every day, and of course, barging into the dream house whenever she wanted and retreating to her own private corner. There was nothing they could do, and she enjoyed watching them feel powerless.
It wasn't enough, but it was a start.
Even now, as she watched them play some stupid boy game in their side of the dream house, she wondered why she couldn't have been born into any other family. Maybe one where she was the oldest, where her parents had to appreciate her talents, and her younger siblings had no choice but to submit to her will. In return, she would gladly defend them from any and all bullies, and they would love and respect her, as any sibling should. That was the real dream house, what this one had been a symbol of, and what the boys had taken away from her.
That was what she hated the most: that they'd destroyed her dream without even realizing it, because not one of them ever stopped to consider the fact that as a fellow human being, she had dreams just like they did.
Sometimes, she wished for death. Not just for them, because they didn't deserve it, but for the entire family. She'd met an odd boy at school, and he had told her all about reincarnation. Frankly, she liked the idea. If everyone in her family could die and come back as a better person, maybe they'd all be better off. With any luck, not one would be related to the others this time around. Hank would end up as a little brother that got picked on by his big sister. Merlin would be an older brother and have to suffer his parents lavishing attention on a younger sibling. Wallace would be an only child, as would Wayne, because they simply depended on each other way too much. And she would finally get her dream house, with the best family one could hope for.
She looked out of the window, noticing that the sky seemed exceptionally bright today. That was good. If it had been raining, she would've only felt worse. Although, in rain, none of them would've been allowed in the dream house, so at least the boys’ fun would've been spoiled. And the dream house wasn't so much fun for her now as it was a place to brood and plot, so that was fine.
At some point, she became aware of something hurtling through the sky, heading in their direction. It almost seemed to swirl like a rainbow. ‘Death,’ she thought. ‘It's death from above, and now we'll all be reincarnated into the people we should've been all along.’ A smile appeared on her face. ‘And I'll finally get my dream house.’
She glanced back at the boys, and found they hadn't noticed, as usual. It was just as well. She didn't want any of them trying to run away.
By now, the object in the sky was even closer. Maybe she was imagining it, but it seemed to be a little warmer in the dream house now. That was no matter, so long as the end result was the desired one.
She closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable end, waiting for the boys to get the ultimate comeuppance, waiting to be taken to her real dream house, the one she'd truly been meant for.
Now she could feel the heat all around her, and she loved it. The fire poked, prodded, brushed, and finally embraced every inch of her skin, and she welcomed it with open arms.
“Take me first,” she whispered to it. “Take me to my dream house, where I belong.”
The fire apparently agreed, because it gave her a terrific shove, tossing her the length of the dream house, slamming her head into the wooden wall, and dropping her to the floor. As she began to black out, she heard the boys, for the first time that she could remember, screaming her name in concern. ‘Too late,’ she thought. ‘Too little, too late, you bunch of stinking traitors. I hate you. I'll always hate you. And I hope none of us ever see each other again.'
There was no dream house when she woke up. There were new people, all dressed in white, but no dream house.
Her father was there, holding her hand and speaking to one of the people in white, asking about her skin. Why was he asking about her skin?
She felt hollow on the inside, but she couldn't figure out why.
The man in white was telling her father something. Something about melanin loss, she wasn't sure, exactly.
If her father was here, that meant her plan hadn't worked. She'd failed. No dream house. Maybe not ever.
‘No fair,’ she thought. ‘I want my dream house! That's all I want!’
Feeling hurt, confused, and weak, she turned to the only real source of comfort she'd ever had: the side of her that spoke more often with reason and good intentions and soft voices.
Only it wasn't there.
The anger rose up in her quickly. Where was her other half? She needed it! She demanded it! Without it, she wasn't a whole person! Without it, she'd have no one to talk to! Without it…she'd been even more lonely, because now she was a freak, and everyone, not just her brothers, would ignore her.
Her father was asking about treatment, perhaps some kind of tanning solution.
She thought of the fire, and wondered why it hadn't granted her wish. Why had it done this to her? Why had it stolen her other half? Had she been unworthy? Had offering herself and the boys not been enough?
The man in white was suggesting mental and physical therapy, to deal with the trauma.
She looked to the left, and happened to catch her reflection in the mirrored wall. It was long time before she even noticed her new, pale skin. All she could see at first was that her eyes weren't as green as she remembered. They seemed dull to her, lifeless, even empty. She could see the places where her other half had filled in and given her a brilliant emerald shine in the rare occasions when she was happy.
She closed her eyes, trying to wish it all away, asking for the fire to come again and correct its mistake. And when she opened her eyes, her hands were on fire. Not that she could feel it.
Her father, however, had jerked away and was beating out the flames along his arm.
The room was doused in tiny but strong streams of water, but still the fire on her hands burned, refusing to be put out.
‘You'll stay with me,’ she thought to it. ‘You'll be my other half, won't you?’
The fire did not answer her, and her anger rose up again.
‘We have no other half now. She is gone, or dead. All we have is me. I won't let anyone else hurt us. Not ever again.’
She nodded, and let her anger step forward, even as the fire on her hands burned brighter, stronger than before. The girl looked at her father, who was staring at her in horror and wonder, and the man in white, who had fainted.
‘I'm alone now. All I have is me. All I NEED is me. I will get my dream house. Anyone who gets in my way will just have to answer to the fire.’
Yes. She liked that last idea very, very much.
Endnotes: Far as I know, Team Go has no alter ego names, so I just made up names for them. I can see now I'll have to continue this, if for no other reason than to satisfy myself.