Okay! Here's the origins story I was talking about. Any of you who have read my other story 'Helping Paws' might recognise some things from there in this story. Maybe not right now, but soon. But, you don't have to read that to understand this since this is a prequel to the actual show. Anyways, almost four months later, I bring you the first chapter!
*Edit - I fixed some of the wording since I didn't like how it turned out... I'm terrible, I know.
A boy that was no more than eight was packing a backpack full of clothes. Another boy who was a year older watched.
"Where are you going?"
"Père (Father) told me partir (to leave)."
A hand grabbing a shoulder causing the other to spin around.
"You don't have to do this!"
"I no have un choix (a choice)!"
"But you could live with me!"
"I want to, mais (but) you know how Père (Father) is."
"But, I'll miss you."
"I miss you, too. Je promets de rester en contact (I promise to stay in touch)."
Regretful green and blue eyes covered with brown coloured contacts turned to sorrowful blue.
"Don't forget about me."
"How could I? Tu es mon meilleur ami qui est aussi mon frère (You're my best friend who's also my brother)."
A hug. A peck on the cheek followed by a peck on the other.
"Je t'aime, frère (I love you, brother)."
"Je t'aime, aussi (I love you, too)."
"GARÇON, JE PENSAIS QUE JE VOUS AI DIT DE PARTIR (BOY, I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE)!"
A flinch. Tears threatening to fall.
"Are you sure you have to go?"
"I do."
A rough hand grabbing the back of a shirt. A scream of terror.
"RYDER!"
"ALLER (GO)! VA-T-EN D'ICI (GET AWAY FROM HERE)!"
Footsteps pounding on the floor. Silent tears falling down bruised cheeks.
"Pensiez-vous honnêtement que vous pourriez vous en sortir en voyant ce garçon (Did you honestly think you could get away with seeing that boy)?"
"Va te faire foutre (Bugger off*)."
"Qu'est-ce que vous avez dit (What did you say)?"
"R-rien, Père (N-nothing, Father)! Je venais de partir (I was just leaving)."
"Bien (Good). Maintenant, sors de ma vue (Now, get out of my sight)."
Arms scrambled to pick up a backpack. Legs struggled to stand up as they ran as quick as they could handle.
Ryder's eyes snapped open with a gasp. He wiped tear tracks from his now healed cheeks. Of all the memories he had to remember, why did it have to be about the last time he saw him? He sniffled slightly and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his now off-white shirt.
"When was the last time I had un bain (a bath)?" Ryder asked himself out loud when his stomach made itself known and demanded it be fed. He put a hand over it with a grimace. "Et (And) when was the last time I ate quelque chose (something)?"
Another noisy growl cut through the silence and his mouth opened into a silent scream, his arms digging themselves into his belly.
"Arrête ça, arrête ça, ARRÊTE ÇA (Make it stop, make it stop, MAKE IT STOP)!" he screamed at the air.
Yes, he knew that, logically, him shouting out like he was wouldn't make the agony go away, but the childish part of him hoped that it would help.
An eight-year-old boy was laying on his bed massaging nearly seven-year-old Ryder's scalp, the younger boy's head on the elder's chest. He closed his eyes half-way when he felt the boy press a gentle kiss to his temple.
"You feeling any better, brother?" he whispered.
"Non (No)," Ryder murmured.
Ryder had gone over to his house when he had suddenly collapsed in front of the slightly older boy. He immediately tried to pry what was wrong out of Ryder but got nothing. Neither of them liked to see the other in any kind of distress.
"I'm hoping that whatever's wrong isn't too serious."
Ryder hummed and he heard the boy exhale softly in worry. Ryder could only guess that he looked as bad as he felt. He would grimace every once in a while, a faint whine coming from the back of his throat when the pain spiked. He had an idea as to why he felt sick, but he wasn't about to admit it. He felt too ashamed to tell.
Just then, Ryder jerked hard in the elder boy's arms, his fingers gripping the boy's shirt with a bruising grip and he buried his face into the lithe chest. Screw his pride! Ryder could not handle the pain anymore!
"Ryder! What's wrong?!" the boy asked in a panicked voice.
A loud rumble suddenly cut through the air and Ryder felt his cheeks get warm. He raised an eyebrow.
"Was that…?" he began when another fainter grumble answered before Ryder could reply.
His face grew hotter. It was… Embarrassing, to say the least. He heard the elder boy sigh and ghost his fingers from the younger's scalp down his neck and chest to his abdomen. He then began to knead his hands in circles into his starved stomach and Ryder moaned with relief, the hunger pains beginning to recede.
"You're hungry," he observed.
"Guess so," Ryder replied.
"I'll get you something to eat."
"No go."
"Why not?"
"I no want you partir (to leave)."
"I'd only be gone for a moment."
Ryder whimpered and clung closer.
"Non (No)."
"No?"
"Non (No)."
Ryder felt the eight-year-old heave a sigh. Ryder hadn't known English for long and he still had trouble grasping some of the words. He constantly added French into his English. Sometimes, he would skip English altogether and just speak in French. Luckily, his best friend had some knowledge of the language.
"You really don't want me to leave?"
"I don't. You is making me feel better by staying with me."
The boy placed a soft kiss to Ryder's temple when another growl from the younger boy's tummy sent vibrations into his palm.
"Alrighty then," he said, a small smile on his lips.
Many moments later, Ryder opened his eyes when he realised that the agonising pain had gone away and had settled down to a dull ache, his belly quivering under his palm. Ryder wiped the tear tracks from his face before settling down back onto the makeshift bed. He took deep breaths in through his nose and out through his mouth as his eyes began to slip closed on their own.
He could steal more food later. He had enough to get by for a while longer. He'd be okay.
The days slowly blended into a month. The humid June air did little to make the morning comfortable as the sun's rays hit his face and he groaned.
'Comment pourrait-il être le matin déjà (How could it be morning already)?' Ryder thought.
His abdomen rumbled lightly under his fingertips and he bit back a curse. Ryder's head pounded and he kneaded his knuckles into his temples. God, everything ached from his head to his belly to his legs; even his hair sticking up on his head hurt.
Ryder rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his knuckles before running his palms over his flushed cheeks. He felt terrible. But, he couldn't dwell on it. He had to stay up. He couldn't crawl back under the thin covers just because he didn't feel good.
He sneezed violently and trembled as the wind picked up while huddling his vest closer to his body in an attempt to keep warm. Ryder knew it would be in vain, but he tried.
But only for the sake of living to see his best-friend-who's-also-a-brother again someday.
That was another thing. Ryder didn't really care for his body or his well-being as he was too wrapped up in how others were. Basically, he put others' needs before his own. His best friend had tried to get him to "worry about Ryder for a change" as he had put it, but Ryder's father made him disregard himself. That always seemed to piss him off to no end, though Ryder had no idea why. If his parent wasn't worried about Ryder's health, why should he himself be?
Ryder shook himself from his thoughts as he took an apple he had stolen days before and bit into it. It wasn't as crunchy as he would have liked, but it'd do.
Suddenly, there was a loud crashing sound causing the boy to jump.
What was that?! An animal? An intruder (please no, he thought)? Police (he hoped not)?
Ryder pressed himself to a corner and shook, his breathing picking up. He watched in terror as a large shadow came closer and closer until it revealed itself to be…
'Un chiot (A puppy)?'
And that's chapter one! So, it's not your typical origins story you've read (I hope...). Anyways, how was it? Good? Bad? Meh? Lemme know! Your reviews help me better my writing :]. Depending on the responses I get, I might post chapter two sooner rather than later (I've got like twelve chapters done and I'm working on the thirteenth, but I don't want to post them unless people want me to)...
Until next time!
~*MegaMon2580*~
*'Bugger off!' can also be translated into something along the lines of 'Screw off!', if you catch my drift.