CHAPTER ONE : game on

( pilot , part i )

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     "STILL HAVING THOSE DREAMS?"

     Andie's eyes never leave the clock ticking away above her therapist's head. She shuffles further down on the couch and stifles a yawn with the back of her hand. It's too early for this shit. Her therapist clears his throat, awaiting an answer to the question he asks each session.

     "Just about every other night," she says, finally looking away from the clock for the first time in ten minutes. Before her therapist has a chance to ask his standard follow-up questions, Andie rolls onto her side to face him completely. "They're still the same, too. Winning Nationals, graduating, marriage, kids, dying in a nursing home, blah blah."

     The man nods, unbelieving, and jots down some notes. "Still convinced they're real? The... visions?" The way he emphasises the final word is nearly enough to make Andie lose it but she manages to hold back.

     She shrugs nonchalantly instead of lashing out. "Everything's still coming true, so, I don't see why they wouldn't be."

He sighs, and it almost looks like he's about to put his pen down, but he just readjusts his grip on it. "It's just— you have to understand how strange it all is." He looks at her in a way that would read as caring if she didn't know him better.

Andie forces the most fake smile she can muster and sits up straight, tapping her feet rhythmically on the carpeted floor. "And I'm very grateful that you haven't institutionalised me for it yet."

He chokes out her name at the implication.

"No, seriously. You think I'm insane, right?" His face doesn't change, he doesn't attempt to protest or agree. "You want to keep me around as long as you can so you can write some research paper about dreams and confirmation bias, or... what?"

"That's not it, Andrea, I want to help you."

Andie's eyes drift back to the clock. 8:30 am on the dot. She clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Next time, then? Our time appears to be up."

He goes to check the clock himself, but Andie's already up and briskly moving toward the door. She doesn't give him, or even the receptionist working in the waiting room, a chance to stop her as she beelines to the front door to step out of the office and into the sunlight.

The second she's outside, she catches sight of Gina Archer, her best friend since... forever, leaning against her sky-blue Range Rover, parked in her regular spot — not too far from the entryway.

"Get your head shrinked?" Gina asks, not an ounce of humour apparent in her tone, though still present in her expression.

Andie exhales a laugh through her nose. "That's not proper grammar."

"Oh, who gives a shit? Get in."

     The ride to school is loud, not the ideal environment for someone who'd just spent the past forty-five minutes being verbally poked and prodded by some asshole in a squeaky leather chair. Gina has some grating heavy metal album blasting, and Andie can barely hear her rambling over the music and the fuzz in her brain. She just has to offer a few 'mhmm's and 'yup's every once in a while to keep her friend sated. Thankfully, school isn't that far from therapy, so she only has to sit through about a song and a half, though the songs in question are long and once the car switches off, the following silence is nearly just as deafening.

     They're exempt from homeroom to get ready for the pep rally, meaning Andie doesn't have to listen to the droning voice of Miss Rowling. Her monotony and lack of emphasis nearly puts her students to sleep every single morning, and if you fall asleep in Miss Rowling's class — God help your soul.

     The girls have music blasting through the locker room as they get changed and paint little wasps on their cheeks and foreheads — yellowjackets, specifically, the animal after which their team is named. Appropriate, too. If a yellowjacket is in distress, they release a pheromone to call their friends to come and help, and by help, they mean sting, and sting, and sting. Yellowjackets show no mercy, and have smooth stingers so they can sting over and over again, unlike the honeybee who can only sting once. The only way you can defeat the yellowjacket, once and for all, is to burn down their nest.

     Andie supposes her Yellowjackets are like that, too. Come for one, and the rest will come for you. If she were to find herself in trouble, she believes her team will come to her aid. She has no doubts that Gina, or Nat, or Van would beat the shit out of anyone who dares pick a fight, and Jackie has a way with words that she mostly uses to uplift but, if she wanted to, could bring one to their knees, and there's something about Shauna, and Olivia, and Misty that makes Andie feel that messing with them would lead to much pain later on.

     They're her girls, through and through. And, she'd do the same for them.

     Most of the time.

     Now, standing around in the courtyard with a handful of her teammates, Andie can't help but question that loyalty.

     "You can't seriously be considering this?" she says. She's staring at the ground, unable to even lock eyes with Taissa, standing tall at her side. Her proposition had struck her as absurd the moment she'd voiced it. You don't just drop part of your pack, your team, your hive, not like this.

     Taissa rolls her eyes, scoffing. "It seems like you guys don't even care."

     With an incredulous stare, Nat retorts, "Are you kidding me? You're being insensitive."

"This is what we've worked for all season," Taissa argues. "You really want to take that chance?"

"Yeah. 'Cause I'm not a fucking asshole."

     Shauna sidles up next to the girls, brows raised in an innocent curiosity. "What are you guys talking about?"

     The girls sigh in unison. "Allie," Lottie eventually says with a halfhearted shrug.

     "What about her?" Shauna asks.

     Taissa scoffs, again. "Did you black out at states? She totally choked."

     Andie has to hold back a groan, resolving instead to rub a hand over her face, crumbling some of her mascara off her lashes.

     "She's a freshman, Tai."

     "She's a liability."

     With a furrowed brow, Shauna looks from girl to girl. "So, what do you want to do about it?"

     "Oh, here we go," Andie grumbles. She hated the plan the first time around, and here it comes again.

     With a smug smirk, Taissa intently looks Shauna in the eye. "She can't screw up if she doesn't get the ball."

     Shauna's brows raise, doe eyes widening. "You want to freeze her out?" she asks. The concept seems just as appalling to her as it did to Nat and Andie — thank God.

     "At least we'd know what we're working with," Taissa says, defending her decision to an audience of unwilling participants.

     A soft sigh leaves Lottie's lips. "She kind of sucks, but—"

     "—No, Lottie," Andie interrupts with a shake of her head. "She got on the team, she deserves to play."

     "I don't know," Lottie admits.

     Nat can't hold the disbelieving laughter back. "That's because it's bullshit!"

     Taissa huffs and turns on the blonde. "Oh, yeah? What's your plan, then?"

      Nat squints in defiance. "I don't know. Play like a fucking team and win?" she suggests. "It's worked so far." Andie greatly prefers the sound of her plan. Unfortunately, by the look on Taissa's face, she doesn't agree.

     "Everything works until it doesn't," she says, getting all up in Nat's personal space. She grimaces. "And for the record, you smell like a wino. Get your shit together."

     Everything in Nat's body tenses at once. "You know what? Fuck this," she says, turning to stomp away before she says anything she may regret.

     "Wow, okay." Taissa raises her eyebrows and turns on Andie, this time. "Andie?"

     The brunette sneers. "I'd rather lose as a team than win by excluding someone," she says, straightening her spine as much as she can to try to match the height of the girl staring her down. She tries not to let it show on her face — that she knows that, in all of her dreams of winning Nationals, Allie has never been there. Small details of her dreams have changed before, they can change a little again.

     "It doesn't feel right," Lottie mutters, shaking her head at the ground.

     Andie gestures at Lottie in a hallelujah. "Thank you."

     The girls can't leave the group fast enough, though they all have practice soon anyway, and will be forced right back into each other's company. Hopefully, just hopefully, Shauna will be able to talk some sense into Taissa before she becomes too set on her plan.

     Hopefully.

————

"Come on, Allie. That should've been yours," Coach Ben calls out. He blows his whistle and the girls on the field slow to a stop to ready themselves to play once again.

Practice has so far been without incident, aside from Allie's lack of ability in comparison to the rest of the girls, but Andie still believes the team will be able to win with her alongside them. But, Taissa has been playing fairly — more fairly, anyway, than her initial plan entailed — and Andie sees that as a win.

In front of Andie, Olivia Portman stops running so abruptly, that Andie nearly barrels right into her. She'd neglected to tie up her sleek black hair, so she barely even sees the girl who only just stops herself in time.

Over Olivia's shoulder, Andie watches as Taissa approaches Coach Ben, then runs off to grab a pinny from Misty's arms. "All right! Let's go, Varsity! Taissa wants to see you step it up. And, quite frankly, that makes two of us!" the Coach shouts, accompanied by a sharp blow of his whistle. Andie squints into the sunlight, analysing the situation as it unfolds. "Let's see some hustle!"

There's a sudden jolt in Andie's chest, like she's just been sucker-punched, or stabbed. She bends over, grabbing her knee for support so that she doesn't collapse completely.

Deep breath in.

Deep breath out.

Olivia's already run off, but Gina comes to a stop next to her, flicking a braid over her shoulder. Her eyebrows crease with concern. "Hey," she says, bending down to get Andie's attention. "You good?"

"Yeah." The people-pleaser in her wants to brush it off, go back to playing, but she pushes past the urge. She shakes her head. "No. I dunno..." Everything still seems fine on the field, nothing's out of the ordinary. "I feel like something bad's about to happen," she admits. A shudder rolls down her spine. She forces herself back into a standing position, hoping it'll make the sensation disappear.

It doesn't, but Coach Ben blows his whistle again, and Andie has to get to running.

     And it goes well. Until it doesn't. Until Taissa slides in and kicks out Allie's legs as she goes to take a shot at the goal.

     And Allie ends up on the ground, bleeding, bone sticking through her skin, ivory white against already pale flesh.

     "Help!"

The scene is frozen in place for a long moment, as everybody processes exactly what's just happened. Then, Misty sprints over, red pinny in hand, and drops to her knees at Allie's side. "Okay. Apply pressure to stop the bl—" she mutters to herself as she presses the cloth against Allie's wound, bone and all, but can't even finish her sentence before the younger girl kicks her away with a guttural scream. Misty drops it and scrambles back like a hurt puppy.

With a grimace, Andie hurries over and grabs the discarded pinny from the ground, kneeling at Allie's side. "I'm sorry," she says to the girl, "but Misty was kind of right." She reaches out for Allie to grab her hand. "This'll hurt like a bitch, okay? But, I have to."

Allie nods, and on the count of three, she squeezes Andie's hand as hard as she physically can, while Andie presses the fabric to her leg. Andie makes extra sure not to push on the protruding bone. Just the torn, bleeding flesh.

"Okay, I need ice and an ambulance," Andie instructs. For a moment, nobody moves. "Now!"

If the other girls had been waiting on Coach Ben's approval that first time, they weren't anymore. Misty takes off in the direction of Coach Martinez's office to use his phone, while Olivia bolts away to find an ice pack, or whatever will do the job just as well.

In her head, Andie thanks her paramedic mother for preparing her for the most absurd of situations. Being taught how to treat a compound fracture didn't seem necessary at the time, but it might just have made the ordeal the tiniest bit less frightening for everyone involved. The knowledge that someone on the team has a semblance of an idea of what to do takes some of the weight off of their shoulders.

Andie's body seems to fill with static, the feeling not unlike that of when she sits on her foot for a little too long. The fingers on one hand have gone numb from how hard Allie's gripping them, and Andie has to force herself to think about anything besides the bone sticking out of the younger girl's leg that she can feel through the blood-soaked pinny.

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to drown out her senses with black.

Even with her eyes shut, she sees blood. Blood that no amount of water will be able to wash away.

————

a/n:
here she is! my baby!
i became hyperfixated on yellowjackets a few months ago, after i became hyperfixated on sophie thatcher from watching when the streetlights go on (incredible series btw, highly recommend). i knew so early on that i wanted to write a fic for it. i've always felt i have a bit of a knack for writing disturbing and dark scenes, and if this isn't the perfect opportunity to utilise that skill then i have no idea what is.

i want to sincerely apologise for how i wrote the practice scene, i'm a theatre kid, i know nothing about sports.

also a big thank you to the book 'plain bad heroines' by emily m. danforth for teaching me how yellowjackets (the insect) operate so i didn't have to go on a wikipedia rampage.

i really hope you guys love andie as much as i do. she's easily one of my favourite ocs i've ever had the pleasure of writing.

and once again, if you're reading on the day i post this, a very merry christmas and holiday season to you <3

published : december 25, 2023
word count : 2.5k