author's note: i don't really have much to say; it's going to be a multi-chapter fic, no idea how sporadic updates are gonna be or whatever. nothing too adult, no pairings, though there's some cursing in this chapter (and possibly in future chaps) and mention of child abuse/neglect, mostly on the emotional spectrum. reviews are greatly appreciated. and any criticism, as well... i would like to make this as best as i can, and i am not opposed to fixing any errors or misleading passages in order for this to become a reality. i haven't written a whole lot of fic so i apologise for any out of characterness on behalf of anyone.
He wasn't even paying attention to what his mother was saying anymore; it all seemed to drown out as his mind replayed the Lorax's conversation from earlier that week. It shouldn't have stayed with him, not any more than any of the others had, swept up in a hectic tide of meetings and paperwork and things much more important than some environmentalist wotsit. It didn't matter that it wasn't about the trees- it should have left him just as quickly as the passing guilt of the trees, but it didn't.
"Your mom shouldn't be talking to you like that." The orange puff crossed his arms, giving the Once-ler a look of seriousness. He could feel the disgusting half-empathy coming from those green eyes, staring up at him calmly.
"Oh, let me guess, she should be moaning to me every day about trees like you do, then!" He'd had enough. Complaining about trees, making offhand comments about the things in his office- "a new guitar?" "that chair seems pretty excessive, even for you, beanpole."- and now going so far as to bring his family into this? He couldn't stand the passive-aggression and the jealousy from what tried to pass itself as a noble being.
"When was the last time your mother told you she loved you?" He stood up from his desk, then, to his full height. He was already taller than the Lorax when sitting, but hoped that his 6'4" frame- sans hat- would be enough to intimidate the forest guardian into leaving. He wouldn't make his brothers throw him out, it wasn't worth the effort and he found the thought vaguely insulting. He could handle himself versus a twenty pound lump of facial hair.
"Why should I even concern myself with that? I know she loves me. She's my mom. Of course she does." Honestly, he hadn't even put much thought into the words- he'd never heard them before in his life, as far as he could remember, but he knew that she loved him. That was enough for him.
"Are you trying to convince me or yourself, kid?" He bristled at the question- how dare he doubt his legitimacy! "What about last week- she made you go to that photoshoot after an allnighter, she told you that you didn't even have time for a nap! That doesn't sound like a loving parent to me."
"It was important. I can't just stop public relations or take a break, I'm running a huge corporation here! I got to sleep that night, that's good enough."
"She couldn't reschedule to let you take a rest?"
"I don't know!" He threw his hands up in the air, glaring down at the pest in his office. "It was important. It's for the company."
"You're tired. Those stupid glasses of yours aren't hiding anything, beanpole." There was a sigh- a sigh- and the Once-ler could only hear the exhalation as a condescending remark on his appearance.
"I'm working hard for the company. It's not easy, I never expected it to be easy!" He could hide the dark circles under his eyes with cosmetics and cover up everything else with his sunglasses and no one would know any better- except his mother, of course. He had to learn how to apply the makeup from someone, even if it was with the unfortunate bonus of jabs at his masculinity. She was just teasing when she said those things, though, and trying to motivate him to take better care of himself in the first place.
"Is your mom working hard for the company, too, or is she just getting you to do everything while she's off getting toasted at those fancy parties?"
"What is your deal? What do you have against my mom?"
"What does she have against you, Once-ler?" It had been the first time he referred to him by name- and it drove a stake of anger straight through him in the sarcasm it presented itself with.
"What do you know about family anyway? You're just some… some furry peanut in charge of some stupid trees!" He didn't care that he raised his voice, not in the least. This insufferable little hippie had no place to even be talking to him like he knew what it was like- his mother and his brothers and his aunt and uncle weren't anything like those stupid trees of his.
"I know more than you do, apparently." The Lorax looked at the boy- despite his impressive height, with or without his ridiculous hat, he was still just a little boy to the forest spirit. He sighed, turning back to the open balcony doors that overlooked the decimated groves. There was one last glance backward, a pitying look that left the Once-ler with a feeling of anger. He was being condescending, wasn't he? He didn't know anything about human customs, or human families, or him, as a human, and he scoffed.
"Ma?" His voice wasn't supposed to be quite so quiet or lack in confidence, either, but he let it slide.
"Yes, Oncie?" That sweet voice of his mother's just seemed to make it worse; it reminded him of the stomachache he'd gotten once from eating a whole bag of marshmallows, and it had reminded him of that for quite some time, but he didn't like to put the two together. It was just an unfortunate coincidence.
There was an uncomfortable silence as he realised he had forgotten what he meant to say, and he could feel his mother's gaze boring into him, a scowl starting to form on her face. He gave a small, uncomfortable smile before bringing his shoulders up into a half shrug.
"I'm very busy, so make it quick. I haven't got all day." He tried to keep his voice straight, clearing his throat a bit awkwardly. There was a small pause, and he added with a slightly lower tone, "You love me, right?"
"Oh, shoot, I've got a meeting to get to, sweetie, I'll be back at four. Try to not ruin the place without me!" She gave a small wink as she sauntered to the door. He tried again before she closed the door, just in case she hadn't heard.
"You do love me, right, ma?" She froze for a moment before continuing out the door. She'd heard. She had to. Why didn't she answer? He felt a presence in the room with him, and turned to find the Lorax leaning against the railing on his balcony, letting himself in.
The Once-ler bit his lip, looking at the guardian for an impossibly long time- somewhere in the neighbourhood of six seconds- before turning his chair back to face the doors his mother had left from. He didn't care what the Lorax said this time, but he didn't say anything. He just stared sadly at the boy, leaving a heavy silence in between the two of them. Nothing needed to be said, he thought, since it was clear to him that the human was finally getting it.
The Once-ler shifted at his desk, and it caught the attention of the Lorax. He put his face in his hands and slumped over the desk- not particularly surprising, he guessed, given what he'd finally started to realise. It was when he saw his shoulders shaking and hunched up around his ears, and he heard the faint sniffle, that he gave a look of surprise. He wasn't even aware the idiot was capable of crying- even when his thneed had failed, even when he'd been made the laughing stock of Greenville, even when bar-ba-loots had left him with nothing to eat, he'd never cried. He gave a huff or a smile and bounced back as well as he could, with that irrational optimism the Lorax couldn't help but find annoying back then- now he secretly wished for that back.
He hadn't been nearly as carefree, or animated, or generally, well, happier, it felt, since he'd started this whole mess- his strides grew shorter and shorter, his pose was stiffer and straighter, and he'd caught sight of shadows under his eyes and he'd had to close the balcony doors on some nights when the up-and-coming millionaire had fallen asleep at his desk, pen still in hand and glasses cock-eyed on his face.
He hadn't expected him to cry- he didn't rightfully know what to do or say to console the boy. Trees didn't cry, not in the same way that humans did, and the Once-ler was the first human he'd interacted with in more years than he could really remember, and he pulled on his mustache, wrapping long fibers around fingers as he tried to think of something- anything- to help.
The Lorax climbed up on the desk- quite the feat for someone of his stature- pulling out desk drawers to use as a makeshift step stool. The lanky human didn't seem to notice him yet, and he patted him on the shoulder with an orange hand to comfort him as best as he could. A wailing sob left the Once-ler, and he shifted his hands into his hair, pulling as he openly cried, now. There were hiccuping sobs and gasping breaths and unattractive sniffling and all manner of noises and sounds that were very much alien to the forest guardian, who only desperately rubbed the shoulder of the businessman below him. He didn't know what to say- and he always knew what to say. The Lorax bit his lip, trying to figure out what was wrong with him. He was supposed to know what to say, that was the whole point of being a guardian, wasn't it?
"Sorry, beanpole. I just couldn't let you keep lying to yourself like that, it ain't healthy for a guy." Good enough, right? He looked expectantly at the boy, not getting much of a response. He rubbed his shoulder more, and tucked a stray hair behind his ear, before continuing. "You're… you're gonna be fine." Nothing, though the crying seemed to die down a bit. "Come back to the valley with us, we'll play cards, you can stay, no harm done as long as you don't start choppin' trees again…" Still no real response, verbally, but he was pleased to find the Once-ler looking up at him through his fingers, face wet and puffy and red with tears but calming down, at least a little.
The Lorax smiled at the human apologetically, trying to get that smile back- he never realised how much he preferred the obnoxious, beaming beanpole. He promised himself he'd never threaten the kid again if he started singing in the shower at seven in the morning- he'd be happy enough with the singing, with the smile in his voice and on his features.
He wasn't sure what took him so long- if his mother had disillusioned him to the point of near-blindness, or if he was too preoccupied with trying to please her to see it, but he realised with a start that he'd had it all along. He'd had someone who genuinely cared about him, even before he finally made it big- the Lorax. Even if he cared for the trees, he could tell that there was enough room for him in the creature's heart, as well, and he nearly screamed at himself for never realising it previously. He honestly, genuinely, cared about him as a person, and not just as the CEO of a successful company or the inventor of a life-changing product.
Long, thin arms grabbed the forest guardian, and pulled him close for a hug. The creature was surprised at first, but after a short moment, returned the gesture, feeling the tenseness in the human's shoulders dropping. He patted him on the back as the Once-ler drew back, wiping his runny nose with the sleeve of hisexcessively long gloves. He gave a small, strained smile, but the Lorax could tell that it was just as genuine as they used to be, and smiled in response.
"It's not too late to fix this."
"Y-yeah. Yeah! It's not, is it?" That confidence was coming back to him, and he shuffled his glasses back on to hide the smeared cosmetics and bloodshot blue eyes from anyone else. "I'll fix this, we can harvest the tufts instead, a-and…" He looked to the doors his mother had exited from, giving a small sigh as he leaned back in the chair. "… I'll… I'll deal with my mother separate." She worked for him, didn't she? He shouldn't be afraid of what his mother had to say about things- she didn't even care about him, so he tried to tell himself he didn't care all too much about her, either.
"Look, we've got enough people now that we can harvest the tufts without a problem…" He leaned over steepled fingers, looking at his mother expectantly.
"Won't that cut down on productivity, Oncie?" She asked, pouting a little. "I just don't see how it's very practical, when we've got such a high demand on our thneeds…"
"It's… called supply and demand. If we slow down a little, people will pay more for them because there won't be as many. It'll work."
"Sweetie, now where did you hear about that? If you go raisin' prices like that, who's to say people will even buy them?"
"I read about it. In a book. You always said I wasn't good at business stuff, but I think I'd like to learn, so I can take care of things on my own. So uh, you could have a break." He tried to contest his mother as passively as he could, feeling his palms growing sweaty under his gloves.
"Oh, come on now, sweetie, I don't need a break- if you wanna work harder, I'm sure I could schedule you more events-" He swallowed, definitely not wanting more photoshoots and public speeches, "-but you still don't know the basics about business, Oncie, and you're gonna have to face that. Your mama knows what she's talkin' about, before your deadbeat dad up and left us, I helped with his finances, don't you know?"
"I'm the head of the company, Mom." He cleared his throat a little, straightening himself and trying to appear as confident as he could. "It's my decision, in the end, and I decided to harvest the tufts, instead. We've got enough manpower to work with it."
"You may be the head of the company, Oncie, but don't you go forgettin' who I am- I'm your mama! I know what I'm talkin' about, and you're still my son, so you listen to me." She pointed a finger accusedly at the Once-ler's chest, and he frowned at her from behind his glasses.
"I made it on my own without you, or the rest of the family!" He stood up, putting his hands flat on his desk as he leaned over. "You guys only came because I asked you to come, because I finally made it big!"
"Now that's not true, Oncie! Me and your brothers were worried sick, we thought you up and died!" He could practically hear the lies in her voice, and he rolled his eyes.
"Really? Because, you know, I'm pretty sure you said you expected me to die!" His mother flinched at his exclamation, scowling up at him. "Worried sick, my ass."
"Oncie. Where did you learn that kinda language? I'm ashamed of you!"
"I learned it from you, mom! Or did you just conveniently forget how you used to yell at me and tell me I wasn't worth a damn and I was a lazy piece of shit and a whiny little bitch and you wish you'd gotten that fucking abortion," His voice nearly broke with each curse, unusual on his tongue and waiting for a sharp, nasally reprimand, "Because I remember it pretty darn well, myself!"
"You sit your ass down, young man!" She stood up to match him, stooped over his desk.
"Why should I listen to you? You work for me, you know. Don't even give me that family business, either, because you and I both know that you never even loved me in the first place! You couldn't even lie and pretend like you ever loved me!"
"How dare you, Oncie! I fed you, and clothed you, and gave up my own house and home for your sake! I gave you everything a spoiled brat like you would ever need, and then some!"
"Yeah? Well what about love! What about making me feel like I was actually worth something?" He brought his face inches from his mother's, a snarl on his lips. "Are you just gonna walk away again and not even give me an answer?"
The slap had knocked his garish sunglasses off his face, turning his head painfully as a bracelet dug at his eye and fingers and nails scraped against his cheek. It had stung, and the sound permeated the air even after his mother had returned her shaking hand to her chest. Tears welled up instinctively at his eye and he straightened his neck to look his mother in the eye; he no longer felt like the self-assured twenty-something year old sitting before his mother previously. He felt all over again like a little boy, locked out of the house for taking too long on his chores, curling up in the barn with a mule, and he hated that feeling. A hand rested on his warm cheek, staring absently forward.
"Oncie, I didn't mean it." His mother seemed frightened, but whether it was at his cold gaze or her behaviour, he couldn't tell. "You know your mama would never hurt you, Oncie…!"
He shook his head. If she would never hurt him, why had she slapped him? It certainly wasn't the first time, and his mind swelled with thoughts of being locked in and out of places, being told to go without food, at curses and yelling and all the other times his mother had certainly, definitely, hurt him. The Once-ler gave his mother a cold look as he turned on his heel and steadily came to the doors, opening them without dignifying his mother with a response. He walked through the balcony doors, closing them quietly behind him with a gentle click.
"Fine. You know what, we don't even need you to run the company! Me, your brothers… we can handle it all on our own, you were only ever just a puppet! You and your stupid guitar!" He could scarcely hear his mother's shouting over the sound of the footsteps he was concentrating on. Tap. Tap. Tap. Shift. Tap. Shift. Tap. He looked to his left and smiled a little as he saw the Lorax walking next to him.
"You okay, beanpole? I could hear that slap all the way outside!" The Once-ler waved it off with a smile, headed down the stairs and into the stable he'd had built for Melvin.
"It's funny, I feel a lot better now." His voice was cracked and quiet, but he gave a happy sigh as he grabbed Melvin by the reigns. "You ready to go, Melvin? We're gonna go set things right." He frowned a little at the roomy stable and expensive and luxurious foods and treats. "We can't really take much of this with us, sorry."
Melvin gave a whinny and a look that told the Once-ler all he needed to know- he didn't care. The human smiled, patting his mule on the back. It would take him all day to gather up his portable cottage by himself, he knew, and perhaps even longer if his mother were to interrupt, but he didn't mind the hassle or work involved. It had taken a very short amount of time, indeed, to pack it up, and there it had more or less stayed- he would need to take it from his storage and re-purchase a wagon to hold it in its entirety, but for a man who was more or less made of money and determination, this was but a small obstacle.
The Lorax had helped him, and the man smiled warmly as the forest guardian hoisted one end into the hooded wagon. Help and friendship was still something he wasn't quite used to- the fact that they'd managed to get his house mobile by the end of the night was something spectacular, to him. Evidently, the media had thought so too, a stray reporter noticing him leaving the factory premises and snapping nearly half a dozen photos before calling out his name.
"Mister Once-ler! Mister Once-ler!" The voice was shrill and obnoxious at best, and he groaned as he brought Melvin to a stop. Even without the garish suit and his stovepipe hat, he was rather noticeable, and not for the first time in his life, he cursed his height and genes.
"What?" He sighed heavily, adjusting his glasses and hoping they covered up his swollen cheek, though he had a sneaking suspicion that they didn't.
"Exactly why are you leaving, Mr. Once-ler? Where is the limo? The guards? Can I have your autograph?" A million questions a second left the woman's mouth, jotting down frantically on her notepad, as if she would lose every moment of interaction just by neglecting to scribe it to paper. "Sorry. Do you have a destination in mind? How is the situation in the factory? Are you going to address the issue of-"
"It's none of your business. I'm not the CEO of Thneedcorp anymore. I quit." There was another bright flash and he flinched away. These pictures were sure to look awful, he assured himself, with his disheveled hair and bruised face, and he cringed. "I'm leaving the company, it- and the factory- is no longer my responsibility." The Once-ler's reply was curt and quiet. "I'm no one now, and I would really prefer to keep it that way." He tipped his grey fedora at the woman before giving Melvin a small nudge forward. "You can go ahead and publish that, let everyone know." He called back, mumbling as he stooped over Melvin. "I'm just a nobody."
His mother would probably call him stupid for setting out at midnight in the middle of autumn, wrapped in his old vest and shirt and a couple of extra sweaters for warmth, wearing nearly every pair of pants he owned with his quilt thrown over his narrow shoulders. He sighed, thinking about how ridiculous the photographs would look- his glasses the only thing reminiscent of his high success (ironically purchased at a dollar store and costing much less than anything else he was wearing, right down to the luxurious shampoo scenting his hair) clothing piled around him and worn fedora shoved over his ears, trying to keep them warm. He looked homeless, he supposed, and it really wasn't too far off the mark, was it? The Once-ler sighed, burying thin hands (stupid, why did he leave the gloves? they at least kept him warm) in the sweaters and coat hanging off his wrist.
By three in the morning, he'd made it to the clearing he set up in just two years ago, giving a sad smile as he noticed how much clearer this particular clearing was, stumps and tree corpses set out in a wide circle around the wagon. With a sigh, he began to set up his cottage, surprised to find bar-ba-loots and the Lorax helping to tie the stakes down- it took significantly less time to set up thanks to him, and he gave his thanks in the form of marshmallows and promises of pancakes when he woke up from a well-needed nap. Maybe he'd even include truffula fruit, if he could find any fruit-bearing trees in the area, he thought. He didn't set up his bed yet- or much of anything, really, the inside of the cottage rather spartan- and decided to retire to the floor with a set of pillows and his patched quilt. It was definitely cold, but he didn't have firewood for the stove he'd yet to setup, and he shivered involuntarily against the chilly wood.
Pipsqueak had been the first to join in the pile, curling up just above the young man's chest, held in place by two long arms sleepily pulling him close. The Lorax begrudgingly joined the bar-ba-loot, tugging a corner of the quilt for himself, and a variety of wildlife soon followed- Melvin took a seat by the Once-ler's head, nickering softly in annoyance as two bar-ba-loots climbed over his back to settle in at the human's back and knees, and a swomme cygnet burrowed at the back of the boy's hair as if it were a nest. The Once-ler snuggled in closer to the animals, a small smile creeping over his face as Pipsqueak pressed a paw worriedly against his blackening eye and cheek. He shook his head and mouthed, "don't worry," before finally closing his eyes and quickly succumbing to sleep.