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This is one of the Homestuck Shipping Olympics Bonus Round 1 fills I linked a few days ago, now cleaned up and expanded a little. Written for the genre prompts 'Medical Romance' and 'Gangsters'.

Character dynamics will be jossed the moment Vriska actually interacts with either of the other two in canon, but in the meantime, have two Serkets and a fishgirl in my favourite underwritten quadrant!

Homestuck | Vriska♣Aranea♣Meenah | 1600 words | G | at AO3

Summary:
It's the third time this week that Vriska and Meenah have brought their street conflict to Aranea's ER.


Aranea Serket knew nothing about gang warfare, or the hypothetical gang affiliations of girls currently getting their rivalry all over her emergency room. She worked quite diligently to know nothing about these things, which was why she currently had her hands over her ears.

Unfortunately she couldn’t do this and also deal with the fracture in Meenah’s forearm, so eventually she dropped her hands and clapped one of them over Meenah’s mouth instead. Meenah widened her eyes in outrage, her voice muffling to indecipherability. Aranea tightened her hand before Meenah could bite her.

It was 1pm on a Wednesday, so Aranea was the only one on duty and there were no patients besides these two, which was something at least.

“Things I didn’t just hear,” Aranea said loudly, “include all references to the Seadwellers, who are an awful motorcycle gang I have barely even heard of due to my intensely law-abiding ways!”

Vriska laughed, slinging herself over the edge of the trolley Aranea had planted her on over the other side of the ER. She had to hold one hand over the blue stain at her hip from three trident-shaped gashes, keeping Aranea's temporary dressing in place, but she managed a limping saunter across the room all the same.

Aranea pointed her finger at her. “I also heard nothing at all about the Bluebloods, whose terrible criminal ways bring a shudder to my gently reared soul when somebody mentions them to me, which is never!”

Vriska rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, coz, plausible deniability is so boring.” She leaned up against Aranea’s side, looking down at Meenah. Oh, she was obnoxious. Aranea was embarrassed to be related to her.

Meenah made muffled hissy fish noises behind Aranea's hand, glaring at Vriska, who laughed. "Gagged is such a good look for her!"

Meenah ripped her face away from Aranea’s hand, pushing herself up towards Vriska's face. She must have forgotten she was injured, because she pressed the hand of her broken arm down onto the trolley. She went pale all the way to her gills and slumped back with a hiss.

“How do you feel aboat another set of fork holes, fishbait?” she gasped through her pain.

Vriska flicked her hair back over her shoulder. “Man, I let you get a hit in because I felt sorry for you, Peixes.”

“Hey, zip it, both of you,” Aranea said.

Meenah flicked a glance at her, but still rose up on her knees, remembering not to use her broken arm this time. She tugged at Vriska’s hair, pulling her head forward. “You were sorry for me?” she said, twisting her fingers in Vriska’s tangled locks. “You shouldn’t’ve been so koi aboat it! I could’ve told you I wouldn’t pity salmon like you if you were the last fish in the sea.”

Vriska’s eyes widened. “Ughhhhhhhh, pity, I’m going to break your other arm just for suggesting that!”

Hey,” Aranea said. She flicked Meenah sharply on the horns, making her jolt and lean back with a wounded expression. Vriska was still draped over Aranea’s shoulder, so Aranea used that to tow her backwards, away from Meenah’s trolley.

“While you’re in my ER, you will zip it the hell up on all topics except those you can both agree on!” Aranea tilted her glasses down to glare at each of them over the top of the frames. “I suggest talking about your mutual love and respect for your awesome friend-slash-cousin Aranea, who puts up with your shit when nobody else will! Maybe you could talk about how cute her shoes are, and how awesome her personal style is in general! I bet you could get some mileage out of how much you both admire her amazing work ethic and sense of social responsibility!”

Meenah was chewing on one of the piercings in her lip. “While we’re in your ER?” she asked, eventually. Of all things, Aranea realised she could feel a trace of wistful frustration coming from her. She couldn’t read Meenah most of the time; fuchsia was way too high. Aranea glanced at Vriska, but her cousin was shielding from her like usual.

“I ... yes,” Aranea said, confused. “Out there I guess you can do whatever impossibly stupid thing you want.” She waved a hand. “Just ... just stay where you are. I need to get more gauze and ... just stay, all right.”

She ducked out of the ER and around the corner, leaning her head against the wall.

She was still confused, and weirdly off-kilter. Or not so weirdly, she supposed. Even separately, Vriska and Meenah were both infuriating and appealing in about equal enough portions to make Aranea spend an awful lot of her time wanting to hit them. Vriska was her cousin, of course, so worrying about her was almost a hatchright: sometimes Aranea felt as though her entire life was spent marvelling at Vriska, envying Vriska and knocking her own horns against a wall over Vriska, interspersed with episodes of furiously defending her to the rest of the world, most of the time when she was irrefutably in the wrong. And Meenah ... well, Meenah she had definitely chosen. And gone on choosing, every time Meenah gave her a reason to cut her losses and run.

They were both impossible and the banes of Aranea's life, and together ...

Kanaya from Paediatrics was coming down the corridor with her nose buried in charts. She lifted her head when she became aware of Aranea.

Aranea bit her lip and tried a bright smile. "Hello! I was just ... getting some air."

Kanaya hesitated. "Are Vriska and Meenah in the emergency room again?” she asked. “I only ask because that would be the third time this week.”

Aranea made a face at her. “I know. Ugh." She thunked her head back against the wall. Kanaya didn't feel as though she was bored, so Aranea opened her eyes again and complained, "I love them both, but sometimes I hate them. I want to slap both of them upside the head till ... I don’t even know what.”

Kanaya chewed her lip. “Oh dear, this is very discomforting,” she said finally. “I’m finding it more and more difficult not to say anything as this goes on, but it seems like a situation in which my style of meddling could be taken amiss. Especially given that Vriska is my moirail. I’m not sure what to do.”

Aranea blinked. She could feel awkwardness coming from Kanaya in waves, now. “Well, what you’ve said so far is very unhelpful,” she said finally.

Kanaya hesitated again. “I suppose it’s only that ... I don’t believe that they come in because they need medical care. In fact I’m fairly certain that both of them erroneously believe themselves to be immortal, between ourselves.”

“Then why ... oh! Oh.” Aranea blinked again. “But Meenah and I were flushed when we were seven,” she said stupidly.

Kanaya smiled, uncertainly. “You aren’t seven anymore, is I suppose the relevant observation.”

“Oh. They’re really ...? But that’s terrible.” Aranea brought her hands to her cheeks in distress. “If they’re letting their rivalry lead to injury just to come into the ER, that suggests I would make the worst auspistice ever.”

Kanaya raised her eyebrows, a trace of snark mixing with her discomfort. “Do you really think that Vriska and Meenah would not injure one another otherwise. That seems unlikely to me. I would say that being ashen for you is the only thing that causes them to seek the medical attention that they do in fact need. They are not truly immortal, though as I said before I think they believe themselves to be so.”

Aranea touched her mouth. “Oh," she said. "Oh, I suppose you're right."

She was hardly aware of what she was saying, entirely preoccupied now in attempting to examine her own feelings. She was a woeful mess about Meenah and Vriska, she always had been, but did she really feel ...

God, yes.

"Oh, you've been so helpful," she babbled, turning on her heel. She threw open the door to the ER and stepped inside.

As expected, Vriska and Meenah were at each other’s throats again. Vriska’s stab wounds were leaking blue once more as she wound one of Meenah’s ratty braids around her fist. Their faces were close together as they hissed at one another.

Aranea marched over, seized Meenah’s left horn and Vriska’s right, and knocked their heads together.

They let out identical yelps, letting go of one another. They turned to her, both wide-eyed. Vriska was pressing a hand to her side, and Meenah was cradling her arm.

Aranea leaned back, crossing her arms. "You could have said something," she told them. "Ashen for you, you pan-damaged idiots."

Meenah leaned back on her good hand, all her tension gone. “Aight,” she said easily, smiling that startlingly sweet smile that always took Aranea by surprise.

Vriska looked from one to the other of them. A shadow of vulnerability crossed her face and was chased away. “Hahahaha, you’re so lame,” she said after a moment. “But all right, I guess if you guys want me that bad. I mean, I guess I’m flattered.”

Meenah lunged forward again. “Who the shell wants you, fishbait?”

Aranea knocked their heads together again.

And for a perfect suspended moment, the whole world made sense.
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