Disclaimer: Siriusly, not mine.
A/N: This story gives basic background and general information. The specifics tend to change depending on the story at hand. There probably won't be more than ten chapters for this story. This chapter is supposed to be sad and a bit angst-ridden.
It was quiet, the hum of life from birds and cicadas was absent. The world was a blanket of white; frost covered every headstone and ice clung to drooping branches. The sky was a clear blue and the sun shone with no real warmth. The wind stirred the air and made the cold even more biting. There wasn't a soul in sight, not many were brave enough to venture the cold this day. Not many people visited this particular graveyard often, in fact there was only one constant visitor.
A crack reverberated through the empty cemetery. A man appeared in a puff of smoke. The man was young, in his mid-twenties with flared dark hair and dark eyes. He made no effort to hide his presence. He trekked across the frozen ground, leaving a trail of footprints in his wake. He was calm and seemed content to weave through the headstones until he came to a worn wooden fence. His breath came in foggy puffs as he perched on the slender wooden rail.
"Hey, everybody, sorry I'm late," he said.
He was greeted by silence. The tombstones remained resolute and immobile. There was no life here except for the man, whose breathing filled the air as his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. He smiled gently at the headstones. He didn't expect a response but he continued to talk to them anyways. He talked to the unsympathetic marble before him like one talked to the picture of an absent loved one.
"I've found some leads on my birth parents and the trail leads to Europe, I was setting up plane tickets," he said.
He smiled but faltered and his face fell back into a serene expression that was neither sad nor happy. Happy did come easy or often anymore. It was an act that he had yet to perfect. He often cheated and used magic to induce proper emotions. It wasn't that hard, he'd always had a notoriously good poker face. The people who knew him well could see through it.
"I know I could travel there without taking a plane, but," he said, "I need the time to think, my birth mother isn't alive but maybe she left something behind that will tell me who my father is. Maybe he's still alive. I wonder if I look like him. I wonder if he has a family, has kids. I could have a brother again. That would be nice. I hope they're older, I don't think I could be an older brother."
He stopped to stare once again at the rows of graves in front of him. His eyes traveled across each of them. They were all different, they were all the same. All four hundred and twenty-seven of them. He knew every single one. He had picked each one. Two of them were newer than the others but they blended together. Unified and indivisible. It helped to imagine them all together somewhere. Perhaps, they could even watch as he mucked about, he wasn't sure whether this thrilled or terrified him.
"I miss you guys," he said, "I wish you were here to tell me what to do because I don't think I've been on the right track, not for a long time. It's so hard to be cheerful, I don't think I'm doing it right anymore, but I don't remember what right is. I can't cry so I smile, I can't laugh so I joke."
There was a sharp blast of wind and the air was filled with whirling snow. He didn't even shiver, the cold didn't bother him. Not much did. It was hard to be bothered by anything when you spend most of your time drifting about. And he had lived through colder, survived worse. This was nothing. He felt the wind sweep across his face; it made flecks of snow tumble across the bridge of his nose. He didn't even blink. He just started talking again.
"I scheduled the flight for after New Year's so we can spend Christmas together again, Candy will probably have my head for it, but I've spent Christmas at home for the past ten years, I'm not about to stop now," he said.
Silence fell as he stopped speaking again. The only noises were faint stirs from the wind as it danced about the graveyard. Snow was blown merrily about. The wind continued to blow, a faint waltz that moved in time with the snow. The wind lead and the snow followed. There were dips and twirls. Eventually the wind slowed, the snow drifted back to the ground where it awaited the start of another dance.
"This is the only place where I feel like I can breathe right, outside I suffocate. I can't let anyone see. Candy is the only one who knows I do this, no one else does," he said.
He hopped off the wood railing and walked between the headstones. He walked aimlessly taking a left here then going back and taking a right. His presence remained unnoticed by the cold marble as he continued to walk around. He left footprints and stirred the powdery snow. He flung an arm out and let his fingers slide across smooth and frigid stone. He stopped at a medium sized headstone. It was rectangular and grey, just like all the others.
"Maybe it could be good to have a little brother, I could teach him how to do things and keep him out of trouble. We could do things, have fun even. I haven't had fun in a while, I think it would be nice," he said, "What do you think big brother?"
There was no answer. There never was. He exhaled slowly and walked back to the wooden fence. He perched on it once more and stared blankly at the peaceful sky above. His eyes closed and his only movement came as his body continued to perform the necessary functions. He would stay that way for many hours. When he moved again the sun would be long gone, replaced by the moon with a Cheshire grin.