- Preface -
The man treaded past vines and weeds, the bundle in his arms weighing him down greatly. Yup, the little tyke took after him here; he was heavy. Who knows, maybe he'll be a bit like him after all. You know, if he made it.
No. Just no. He was not going to let himself think like that. He shouldn't be thinking, not about this. He had to hold onto that faith. He had to. Rose was cheering for him. He couldn't let her down.
Not again.
He stumbled over a stray rock suddenly, nearly dropping the cloth and its contents. But… He didn't. In fact he didn't even fall. Something was holding him up by his tattered shirt.
"You passed our mee'ing point." A female voice noted. It was young, not being able to be more than thirteen, and held a sort of accent. British? He never could tell the difference between those European voices.
Of course he passed the place. He had been so wrapped up in thought over everything that's happened the past twenty four hours. Concentrating on a tree with purple leaves was the last thing on his mind.
The hand holding him suddenly jerked back, forcing the burly man to his two feet. He stumbled, clutching the poor child to his chest like a life preserver. Wide eyes he spun around to face his savior only to see a young girl, barely reaching his chin in height.
She had dark skin accented with a red undertone. Her black hair was boxy, untamable. She had a built body, with muscles that made the soft man feel uncomfortable in comparison. She wore a baggy gray sweater two sizes to large, tight black jeans, and gloves meant for an adult going up her smaller arms. What got him the most though, was what was over her eyes; a piece of cloth, covered in oil and grease. The rag was a dulled red, faded and worn. How could the young girl even see?
He scoffed, trying to advert his eyes. "Uh, are you her?" He managed, voice faint.
The young girl crossed her arms over her chest, head tilting back a bit as if to lock eyes with the older man. "Don't know who else you were expecting, sir." She noted, her elegant voice a strange combination with her raggedy appearance.
She had a point, of course. These forests were practically bare from even the animals that dwelled within them. The perfect place for illegal exchanges. Like his son… Like his wife.
Wife. Rose. Blood.
He pushed this away from his mind, focusing on the expecting girl, already looking impatient. "Sir? I don't got all day. Kind of dangerous for me to be out an' abou' like this." She reminded him. "I'll take him now."
The man paused, eyes darting from the girl to the child in his hands. Small, soft looking. Skin a dull brown, similar to his own. Tufts of chocolate going on black hair on his head. Although closed now, he could still remember the bright brown eyes under those lids. And last, but most prominent, was the familiar reddish pink gem on his soft, bulging belly.
His son. Her son. He didn't want to do this, but his choices were limited.
"Y-Yes. I am." The man murmured, adjusting the blanket around the small boy before carefully lowering him towards the girl.
As if she could see perfectly past the rags on her eyes, she took the child, gloves cradling him with a sensitive touch. She brought him to her chest, examining him before head snapping back to the devastated looking man.
"Does he got a name yet, sir?" She inquired, head tilted in wonder. "Or should we call him after his gem? Er… Rose?"
He blinked, eyes falling back to his son. Name. He and Rose had given him one. He had wanted to try and make him as normal as possible, with a name no way at all related to a gem. She had liked the idea. It might have worked.
"Steven." He choked, forcing tears back. "His name is Steven."
AN: So this idea sort of came to me in a dream. I'm not sure if I should continue or not, so let me know your opinions!