Footprints in The Snow:
(I do not own Ghost Hunt)
There was laughter everywhere.
It filled the various rooms throughout the large house, and for once, Oliver couldn't stand it any longer. He couldn't stand the way they smiled at him in such a manner, the way they intermingled their own luck (they hadn't lost their brother, had they?) with sympathies that weren't truly sincere. He just couldn't find the strength to put on another strained facade for the sake of his parents, Lin, and Madoka. It was fruitless. They knew him well enough by now to know that his mask was as faux as any genuine smile he was forced to produce.
His frustration was threatening to burst- because how could they be so happy when he wasn't laughing with them? How could they be filled to the brim with contentment while his truancy was spilling over?
Even Martin and Luella were attempting being joyous on his favorite holiday.
Oliver couldn't watch their smiling faces anymore. He didn't want to hear the giggles erupting from their throats anymore. He didn't want to if Gene wasn't there to accompany the jubilance that possessed the household.
So Oliver had left the house with a scowl and a slam of a door, pacing impatiently on the balcony and awaiting for something (someone) that wasn't there anymore. He eventually caved to get some tea and a jacket, because even his enraged stubbornness couldn't stop the coldness of the air.
"Come outside. It's Christmas, and you promised!"
"I have better things to do than get frost-bite."
"Please? Please."
"Saying 'please' multiple times won't accomplish anything."
The tea in his hands had long gone cold from the frigid air.
Noll took a sip of it anyway, watching the snow slowly create a thin layer of white on the green grass. Luella had gotten her wish, it seemed. All she wanted this year for Christmas was a white Christmas. He resisted the shiver created from the dropping temperature, buttoning his black jacket up so it reached the tip of his neck.
Oliver's albeit eyes shifted down further on the large lawn, widening slightly at the realization he had made. If he squinted hard enough, it looked like he could make out the shape of a young boy (identical to himself) twirling underneath the falling snowflakes, hands outstretched.
"Come play with me, Noll!"
Those words seemed to be haunting him today.
A long sigh escaped from his lips, eyeing the half-drunken tea in front of him. Mai's tea was so much better than his own. He would never admit that aloud, but it was true. Even during the Urado case, he hadn't been the one to make his distraught assistant tea. It had been Lin.
He tilted the cup so the liquid sloshed around. She knew how he liked it strong and bitter, and how he always appreciated a small spoonful of honey so it didn't strain his throat too terribly.
He looked back down at the ground, searching for the boy he had seen moments before. The young boy, the one that was a perfect reflection if he had ever decided to smile. That boy was gone, replaced by an absence that couldn't be filled. It was a peculiar feeling, one that could never be described with science or tests. It was merely the knowledge that one second they were here, and then they weren't. He had thought that everything would be fixed once he stumbled upon that lake months ago. It had only broken him further, because it was proof that it had happened.
Oliver never doubted his visions. He couldn't because of how vivid and painful they were, but there was always that slim doubt that maybe he had been wrong (for once) and maybe Gene was still alive. That maybe he was still out there, breathing and walking, rather than a corpse rotting at the bottom of a lake. But finding his body had changed all that. He had looked at his brother's body, and despite seeing how decomposed it had become, knew it was him. Gene.
Christmas had always been his favorite holiday.
Oliver gripped the small ledge in front of him, knuckles turning white from his strenuous grip.
After that day, he couldn't deny it further.
Eugene Davis was dead, and he wasn't coming back.
The feelings that churned within him after that couldn't be solved using the scientific method. They couldn't be explained. They couldn't be solved. They just were, and he was so lost without his older brother. Especially during this day. This day was the most difficult to survive without him, and perhaps he could've endured it with Mai and the others in his presence, but not alone. Not with the constant reminders of how there was an emptiness gripping at him, a literal hole where his brother and (dare he say) friends should be.
Noll clenched his jaw, refusing to allow the tears fall.
The glass door to his bedroom opened, leaving a stream of yellow light shining on the narrow balcony.
"Noll?" Luella's voice echoed through the shattered silence. "What are you doing out here?" A shawl was wrapped around his shoulders, and he could feel the feminine silk brush against his bare fingertips. "You're going to catch a cold."
He didn't respond. He could barely hear her. Her words were like slurs to his ears, because all he could hear was his twin's plea all those years ago. "Come play with me, Noll!" That plea he hadn't listened to. "Why won't you play with me?" That question he had simply ignored, because he was too mature to run off and about, creating snowmen and snow angels. He could still see Gene, but his voice sounded warped to Oliver. Almost like he was slowly forgetting the sound of his brother. Not only Noll's sibling, but his best friend. The only person that ever truly understood him. How could he forget the voice of his best friend? Oliver used to live in the midst of someone who believed in him, someone who he himself allowed into the place that people often referred to as 'cold-hearted', but not anymore. His brother was no longer with them. He had moved on.
Luella placed a firm hand on his own.
"Why don't you give your old colleagues from SPR a call and wish them a Merry Christmas?" He looked up at her finally, meeting her vulnerable eyes, which were pleading and shining in a mixture of happiness and sorrow. "I'm sure they'd love to hear from you again."
"Maybe," Noll replied monotonously.
He glanced back at the snow, which was beginning to mold and thicken.
"Come play with me, Noll!"
"I miss him," Luella admitted with a tearful sigh. "But isn't it time to try and be happy without him? Gene wouldn't have wanted you to be upset on Christmas."
His words were clipped and disjointed. "I don't want to talk about him."
"Okay." She sounded tired, and he felt guilty that his words had sucked the very life from his adopted mother. "Just come inside soon, Noll. I don't want you getting sick."
"Yes," he agreed tersely, the promise a lie on his lips. "Soon."
She left after another ginger touch to the shoulder, firm yet wary, knowing better than to force feelings from her son whenever he closed off like this. But she paused after opening the handle, turning back to her son in reluctance. "It's been so sad for everyone to keep seeing Gene's things gathering dust, so I decided that I should start packaging them away. The funny part is, the heavier the box is, the lighter I feel."
Oliver glanced over at her in surprise, sapphire eyes finally showing a small hint of actual emotion. "You're throwing his stuff away?"
"No, God, no. I could never do that. I'm just finding a better place for it. I'm going to take one last look-" her voice hitched momentarily, and he wondered in panic if his mother was going to burst into anguished tears. Crying and distressed women had never been his forte. He waited patiently for the water to spill over his mother's long eyelashes, but they never did. They made her eyes glisten painfully, but she did nothing more than swallow. "And then put it where it belongs."
There was an odd sense that surrounded her words. Remorse, but also optimism. Hope for a women that was finally moving past the repetition that she had found herself entrapped in since the announcement of her eldest son's demise.
"Come play with me, Noll!"
Gene had left little footprints in the snow as his small frame sprinted through the snowy fields of ice, kicking up little spurs of white as he went about. The coat had been too big, hat lopsided on his disheveled dark hair, and the smile he wore too goofy, but freeing nonetheless.
"No," Oliver had declined indigently, a heavy book tucked underneath his small arm. Since the orphanage, he had never really appreciated Winter, especially when the temperature dropped so exceedingly so. Gene had pouted at his heartless response and Noll had glowered right back, and when his brother finally gave up his whiny pleading, Oliver had watched him dance (like an idiot) in the snow. Even though Noll wasn't playing with him, that didn't stop the corner of his lips from upturning at his silly brother's antics.
He would play with him-eventually.
They would have plenty of time, after all.
He finished off his bland tea, staring distastefully at the small powder of brown that had formed in a small mass at the bottom of his cup.
Oliver's gaze locked in with the field shortly after.
That boy was gone, wasn't he?
Gene was gone. He had moved on.
"Maybe it's just time, you know? To accept that he's happy wherever he is. To finally acknowledge that he's moved on, and that we do too. Gene wouldn't want us to be moping on his favorite holiday." She ruffled his dampened hair tenderly, planting a motherly kiss on his right cheek. It was cold as ice. He was looking away, far off into the distance, those walls surrounding him yet again. "Come inside when you're ready. Merry Christmas."
And with a tentative smile, she had closed the door.
Noll looked down. That boy was back again, that child that looked exactly like Eugene but never could be, only this time he wasn't playing. He was standing upward in the snow, looking directly at Noll with a sad and hopeful smile. His brown glove was practically white from the snow that had gathered on its material. He raised the glove slowly and began to wave at Noll.
The tears spilled over in Oliver's eyes.
And with that Gene vanished, along with his small footprints in the snow.
Oliver went back inside.
"Hello?" she questioned, voice sounding tired and raspy. After a moment of silence, she coughed awkwardly. "Who is this?"
"It's me."
He could hear her breathing stop momentarily. When she spoke, it was in a disbelieving whisper. "Naru?"
"Merry Christmas, Mai."
"Oh." He could hear the bright smile in her voice. "Merry Christmas, Naru."
A/N: This was supposed to be posted on Christmas, but that didn't end up happening. I don't know, I've kinda been considering giving up writing and I just don't know what to do with that. I feel like I have no potential whatsoever and I'm never going to get better at it. *sighs* Hopefully I'll start enjoying it sometime again. Oh, and before I forget, that quote about the boxes was not mine. It was actually from the Amazing Spiderman 2. :P
I hope you did like reading this! It was so difficult to write for some reason. Drop in a review and tell me what you think! :)