My brain is...just wrong, I'm sorry. This isn't even HP fic, so I can't even use that excuse. It isn't even smut.
Title: June Wants
Fandom: Classic Disneyverse
Summary: Aren't the unnatural symmetries chilling? Oh, it's just me? Well, bleep you, then.
Rating: Nothing objectionable (but the kids won't get it).
June wants three things. She wants a mother. She wants to go first once in a while. And she wants Huey.
The first is an abstract longing. It isn't as if she expects a mother to pop up out of nowhere after all this time. (Even though she has this theory--though she won't tell it to anyone--that that's how she and her sisters came to be, as well.) She's just tired of having her aunt be sometimes like a mother and other times not--as if she woke up some mornings and said, "Today I am raising three young ones," and on others instead said, "Today I am here to be courted." June just wants a little more stability from the lead adult figure in her life.
She doesn't wish for a father. Somehow she knows that would be completely against the rules.
And she wants to go first. She's tired of having the ellipsis at the beginning of everything she says (though it's worse for poor May, who has it at the beginning and end of everything, with no full stop in sight). Tired of being the third to experience the slide and the jump rope or anything else that requires turns. She always gets her turn, yes, but once in a while it would be nice to look back at the other two and say, "That was great! Come on, you try," for a change.
Which brings her to the third longing. Which isn't abstract at all.
It's not the clothes. It's not the capital letters he gets at the beginning of his sentences. It's not anything like that. June knows the three of them aren't interchangeable. It's Huey she loves. Huey whose smile pushes just so into the corner of his cheek when he's pleased. Huey whose brow wrinkles like that when he's not, and she wants to kiss it smooth again and promise him it will all be better.
But she knows the way it's laid out for them. She's the third. Louie is the third. Which means she's meant to have Louie. Even if it were not, April always gets to go first, and April will pick Huey, because it's the way it's meant to be or because she knows June wants him or just because who wouldn't want Huey, if they could pick first?
The one thing June doesn't want is to get older. Because if they do get older, the pairings-off will come, she's sure of that. And she'll get Louie and have to watch April with Huey and even if some miracle occurs and she revolts and actually gets Huey...
This is the part she doesn't like to think about.
Huey--Huey and his brothers--are nothing like their uncle. She tells herself that every time she sees her aunt and her paramour (June is precocious, like her sisters, and knows words like that), and his sullen face, his fits of rage, and the rare smiles that never seem to be prompted by anything her aunt does--that only come to him as he naps after a good meal. No, Huey's nothing like him. But June's aunt is sweet, caring, patient--traits that June values, and yet her aunt stays with this oaf. If June gets older, is this what awaits her--this blind devotion to someone undeserving? If Huey gets older, is that the transformation waiting for him?
But it has to be more than that. Much as she doesn't like him, June can hardly blame Huey's uncle for his oafishness. Nothing ever seems to go right for him; all his picnics are sure to be rained out, any garden planted devoured by pests, a found twenty on the sidewalk sure to be counterfeit. He was a sailor once, June knows; perhaps bad luck follows the sailor when he leaves the sea.
It makes sense for her to think of him as a creature cursed. Small wonder that smiles only come to him in sleep. June knows he has a rich uncle of his own; perhaps he dreams of the old uncle's death, and what it will gain him.
June shivers. She preens the bow on her head, the girlish bow that marks her femininity and not her youth, for even her adult aunt has not abandoned hers--and hopes never to grow older.