See You Again

Wreck-It Ralph: 50 themes- 50 drabbles

Chapter Three

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11. Introduction

Ralph was on his way to Root Beer Tapper's after a particularly busy day of work, rolling his shoulders as he worked out the kinks in his back from being thrown off of the roof so many times. The Nicelanders were throwing another party—a one-year anniversary, as it was—and the massive man had seen that he was not exactly welcome. Whatever. He was not all that fond of the Nicelanders anyway. Felix was alright, he supposed…

The wrecker had been about to enter the portal to Tapper's had been only a few feet away, in fact, when he could hear an uproar coming from within the entrance. Without warning, a small, orange and white clad figure was forcibly tossed out, emitting a strangled shriek as he hit the floor and fell into a roll.

"And don't even think of showing your face her again until you get some manners, you little jerk!" Ryu, one of the characters that had thrown the stranger out, shouted, and the diminutive man stood on trembling legs, shaking his pale gray fist at their retreating backs.

"Yeah, keep running, you cretins! Cowards!" he kicked the floor with a huff and rubbed the back of his shiny white helmet. Ralph took this time to intervene.

"Uh…hey," he began awkwardly disconcerted by the poisonous yellow glare he received. "Are you OK?"

The racer scoffed aloud, sneering at the profoundly larger man and showing his pure yellow teeth in the process. "I don't need some Bad Guy's sympathy. Keep walking, two-ton."

Ralph's brow furrowed, his notorious temper bubbling but temporarily restrained. "Listen, buddy, I'm not the one who was stupid enough to be banned from Tapper's!"

The racer glared up at the larger man for several seconds, perfectly silent, before suddenly leering, acid-yellow eyes aglow. "You're Wreck-It Ralph, aren't you?"

Ralph blinked, startled by the racer's sudden change in tone. "Yeah…"

The gray-skinned man grinned impishly. "Name's Turbo," he said, before sharply kicking the larger man's shin and running off toward his game.

As Ralph swore, hopping up and down on one leg, he realized that this "Turbo" character lived right next door to him.

12. Speak

"My name's Vanellope, by the way."

Ralph only grunts, his features set into a permanent scowl as he follows her through the fringes of the Lollistix forest and closer to the Kart Bakery. The glitch smirks and leads him on, some part of her, deep down in her code, hoping that he will use her name without the horror and disgust it has come to be associated with.

She hopes in vain.

Her calls her any variation of "kid"—never by name, but not ever dubbing her as a glitch either. Vanellope supposes that it's better than nothing. But she still hopes; and that was a sensation she never thought she'd feel again after the destruction of the Lickety-Split. And this hulking man, a Bad Guy, is the cause of it. Vanellope has never heard her name be used with anything but abhorrence; she hopes—wishes fruitlessly, really—that Ralph will be the exception to this.

And she hopes. And hopes.

They are writing their names on the kart, and he makes no mention of it. He's teaching her how to drive (sort of) and the moniker remains. "Kid". How she wishes to be more—how she wishes to be Vanellope.

But she becomes distracted. He's helped her so much, Ralph, this supposed Bad Guy who longs for the exact same thing as she… She forgets what she wants to be called, and just wants Ralph with her, beside her, supporting her…

And she does not notice when he calls her Vanellope for the first time.

It is not until later, her kart and her dreams long since smashed, and she has been captured and put into King Candy's Fungeon, Glitch-Proof chains and all, that she realizes what the use of her name truly meant—a plea for forgiveness. He had known that she would not want anything to with him after he destroyed their kart, and so he had called her Vanellope while he still had the chance.

She thinks that this is the first and last time he would use her name. She does not know that much later, when he's dangling above the surface of Sugar Rush from the talons of Turbo himself, seconds from death and the destruction of her world, he will see her miles below him, only her, and the only thing he will say is her name.

13. Nom de la Guerre

"Vocal identification required."

Felix startles at the cool, female voice emitted from the VOX outside the impregnable door. He twists his hat, glancing up and down the dismal hall in a futile search for a space marine that could assist him.

"Vocal identification required," the robotic tone repeats, and with a small exhale the handyman releases a fraction of his uncertainly and plants his cap back squarely on his head. He takes a small step forward, wringing his hands now.

"Um…Fix-It Felix, Jr.?" he says carefully. There's a pause.

"'Um…Fix-It Felix, Jr.?' recognized. Access granted."

Pleasantly surprised, the handyman watches as the door slides open with the hiss and whir of hydraulics, opening into the rec room just beyond.

Many of the armor-less space marines didn't even glance up at Felix's arrival, leaning over pool tables or nursing drinks at the bar. Even so, as the 8-bit man navigated cautiously around them, he feels all eyes on him.

Eventually he makes it to the back of the room, where he recognizes the bulky form of Kohut cleaning his gun. The handyman swallows but presses forward.

"Fix-It Felix, right?" the dark-skinned soldier asks without looking up. Felix nodded, and after a moment Kohut put down his gun, regarding the smaller man with an even gaze. "Are you sure about this? I mean…"

Felix's stubborn nod seems to be enough conviction for the space marine, as he unloaded his enormous gun into the repairman's hands. As if wanting to imprint his verdict in stone, Felix said, "I want to be able to protect Tamora…when she's not doin' the protecting herself."

14. Masquerade

He still finds himself looking in mirrors.

It has been a solid year since he took up the mantle of King Candy. He was a performer—he should have had the persona down pat by now. It was not difficult. Shouldn't have been.

But he still has to stop himself from shouting his traditional "Turbo-tastic!" at the end of a race. He still has to remind himself of who he is supposed to be, and to keep up the act. He has to remember to keep his disguise.

But after a long day of racing, against the gamers and for the roster, he's sick of his form. He doesn't even want to look at a piece of candy, not that this whim is even possible, but he will banish every subject from his immediate presence and lock himself in his massive bedroom. But he won't sleep. He hardly ever touches the bed, in fact.

No, instead he will drop his disguise. It was tremendously challenging to regain the form afterward, and even more difficult to make it stay, but he can't bear living in someone else's skin for such an extended period of time. He'll get used to it in the future, he supposes.

But not now. Now he will rid himself of the awful disguise, allow for the return of his familiar gray skin and orange and white jumpsuit, and curl up on the floor in front of his full length mirror, humming Turbo-Time's theme song around his endless chant, "My name is Turbo. I'm not King Candy. My name is Turbo, and I'm the greatest racer ever."

15. Title

Once things had calmed down after Ralph's game jumping experience, life went back to normal. Or at least to the current equivalent of it.

The Nicelanders were significantly more cordial to him, with the exception of Gene, and Mary was more than happy to bake cakes for him and everyone to share. He had a home of his own, plenty of friends, a brother—there wasn't much more he could want.

He was still the villain, sure, but really…it wasn't so bad.

Life in general had become more bearable for Ralph, but it was not the pies, or the house, or even the friends that made it all worth it. It was the one friend, that annoying little girl who visited him on a near daily basis while he did the same for her, who hugged him just as regularly, as if enforcing the certainty that there was someone out there who cared about him with complete absoluteness, and who was the one who gave him his medal, the only one he was proud of and the only one he kept. She was what made it all worthwhile.

Vanellope had dubbed him a hero, her hero, and a hero he became.