Fear of Falling [Treasure Planet Fanfic]

Chapter Sixteen: Life on Montressor

A/N: Hi guys! So I'm not sure if you got this, but the last chapter of Fear of Falling really was the last chapter I had left. The story was supposed to end there. But, due to popular demand, I'm going to continue this story to where the movie ends, and I've also got a sequel planned! Be in mind it may take a while considering that I'm also working on other stories, and I'm working on YouTube videos and my portfolio for my animation and art. Chapters will not be posted regularly, but I will try my best to get them written as fast and awesome as I can! Thank you so much for sticking with me this far and all the reviews! You have no idea how much I appreciate it!

A WEEK LATER

Sarah had decided that Vanessa needed a whole new wardrobe. She couldn't keep wearing her tattered blouse and shorts, and her own clothes were far too big for her.

"Really, M-Ms. Hawkins, you d-don't have to do this," Vanessa protested as she and Sarah strolled into the local strip mall in the next town over.

"I told you, please, call me Sarah. And yes, I do. You need some proper clothing, dear, those rags won't hold up for long,"

The few stores they went to were thrift stores, and stores that took in other retailer's overstock. Vanessa didn't mind: she had no desire for the latest fashion or overpriced garments. To be honest, she had no taste in clothing, and no idea how she would be shopping if she had no preferences.

"Let's start by finding fabrics that you like, then we'll go onto style,"

Vanessa discovered her tastes were simple, almost sort of bland. She liked the feel of cotton, wool, denim, leather, and she didn't like anything that showed off a lot of skin, like tank tops, tube tops, and short skirts or booty shorts. The majority of what she chose covered up her legs, and half of her arms at least. Sarah did insist that she get some tank tops and shorts for sleepwear, as nights on Montressor did get hot. Her boots were in good condition, only having a few holes in the sole, yet Sarah had her choose two new pairs of shoes: a pair of flats and better boots. When they were finished and ready to go to Doc's house, she tried to pay for her own things. Sarah would have none of it, telling her the new wardrobe was a welcome back gift from her.

Jim had been waiting for the girls when they returned, a warm smile lighting up his features. He smiled much more than when he left all those months ago, and it'd only been a week. It was good to see him happy, his mother thought.

"Here, let me take those for you," the strong young man took the dozens of shopping bags and went to put them in their separate rooms.

"T-thanks again for t-taking m-m-me sh-shopping . . . Sarah,"

"You're absolutely welcome, sweetheart. It was so much fun! I can never take Jim shopping, just like every other teenage boy,"

Vanessa, surprised to say that she had fun as well, agreed to go shopping again soon, and headed off to her room to review her new clothing. Doc had given her a room on the second floor in the East Wing, close to the observatory. It was a good-sized room, with a queen bed – an actual bed, not to mention the softest bed she'd ever slept in – a brushed metal desk and chair, a vanity for applying makeup, and a dresser – also brushed metal. The best part of all, she had to admit, was that she had her own private bathroom. The first time she took a bubble bath in four years, she'd nearly died and gone to heaven.

Her bags were on her bed when she closed the door, and Jim wasn't anywhere in sight. Deciding to try on some of her new outfits, she emptied the paper containers onto the scarlet bed spread, then arranged them the way she had tried them on in the store. Some of them, like her night time ensembles, she put away into the dresser, and left out three outfits she had deemed her favorites. Vanessa removed the tattered, shrunken, and ratty clothes she'd been wearing a third of her life and slipped on a dark purple, three-quarter sleeved shirt with a U-neck and a pair of tan capri pants. The clothes weren't baggy, hugging the barely visible frame she had, but roomy enough to move in. Vanessa observed herself in a full-length mirror in the corner by her desk, finding that she looked quite normal and healthy. As an experiment, she removed her bandana and undid her braids so that her short, poppy red hair framed her heart shaped face.