Caught In The Rain
~*~
Every day without fail, Vladimir Masters-local billionaire business typhoon-walks to work past the town orphanage, in frost or shine. And, every day, a young, four year old Danny Fenton watches for him. But, when the two are locked in a particularly harsh storm, Danny offers a simple but profound kindness-one that will ultimately change his life forever.
~*~
^^ Hallo, everyone! After seeing a very adorable artwork on DeviantArt featuring these two in this scenario, I very much wanted to expand the sweet, wordless little tale that, regardless, says very much indeed. I certainly wish I could find it again....some of you may know the piece I speak of. If you happen to like this one-shot-and you happen to know the name of the picture (Because I certainly can't recover it) I would be very much obliged if you would tell me.
Please, take care, everyone!
~*~
Quote:
Little stones make big mountains,
Little steps can cover miles,
Little acts of loving kindness,
Give the world its biggest smiles...
Little words can soothe big troubles,
Little hugs can dry big tears,
Little candles light the darkness,
Little memories last for years...
Little dreams can lead to greatness,
Little victories to success,
It's the little things in life,
That bring the greatest happiness."
~*~
Tick, tock.
Her pen scratched dully at the form once again, pausing for a second as she reached for her ancient stamp, absentmindedly dotted it upon the nearby inkpad, and pressed the official seal upon the cream white paper.
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
A middle aged woman continued to go through the numerous sheaves of paper with the slightest hint of a frown upon her visage as the old clock behind her continued its gentle, patient ministrations as it readily struck each second.
Soon, it would be time. After all-he had continued to follow up in his transition that had only started about late Springtime, every day, without fail. Marsha managed the slightest hint of a grudging smile on her normally stern complexion at the thought. The silly boy. She shook her head absentmindedly, and continued to finish officiating the adoption papers for a little girl named Ivette, absentmindedly leaving a signature here and there as her thoughts faintly trailed to the little boy once again.
The other orphans teased the poor child about it to no end-but, like clockwork, when the Children's Home clock struck Nine, young Danny Fenton would scurry up the nearby stairs, little feet hopping about as he struggled to make his way up the spiraled dome of the steep, stone steps. It was actually rather cute, to be honest. Accompanied by the old temple dully clanging nine times out the window, once could easily discern the newest ward of Briar's End's gentle footsteps as he hurried to make his way up to the window on the third floor, where one could easily get a proper view of the pavement beside the building some good feet equidistant below.
Why the child looked for him, she did not know why. Even twelve years of working with these youngsters did not teach her very much about the simple intricacies that underlined a child's mind.
She shook her head, lightly, and continued to her work, glad that today was a Friday. She had weekends off-and she enjoyed them most immensely. She glanced at the clock hopefully, knowing that half past five would be well enough time to pack up for the day, and head home.
At the thought of time coming to her once more, she smiled again, the bright eyed, little raven headed boy's face coming to mind. It never helped to get very attached to children in these facilities, as they usually only stayed for a short while (Pardoning little Danny's case) but she did admit a certain fondness for the little orphan, who carried a continuously odd multiple of habits, but peculiar they were, she did not suppose they were necessarily bad ones.
Danny Fenton had only come to Briar's End-the local Children's Home For Displaced Youth And Adolescents-just last Spring. His parents had been ghost hunters of all things....and, after the boy's father, Jack Fenton, had accidentally forgotten to change the lab's....what she understood was called an "ecto-filtrator....." had mistakenly triggered a........
She shook her head ever so slightly. Those were not pleasant thoughts, at best.
The boy had had no relatives but an Aunt...who lived rather far away in rural Kentucky. It had been nigh impossible for the town officials to properly inform of the tragedy that had completely destroyed Fenton Works....and the two lives in the basement with it, or ask her if she would be willing to take the little boy in. Danny, according to the nearby neighbors, had been off on a playdate with his friend Tucker at the time of the incident. At least he had been spared.
Her forehead still creased ever so slightly.
The poor dear. At so early an age.....
She shook her head ever so slightly, and bent down to take a slight sip of her nearby tea, blowing lightly at the steam that still wafted lazily around the little cup before she took a sip.
Danny had been playing with his young friend at the park....before the echoing BOOM had resonated over the distance in a fiery wall of flickering emerald light, stunning the two in abrupt silence as Danny's young friend's ball had slipped from loose fingertips, and had idly bounced away as the two children stared at the enormous mass of green flames writhing about in the distance....
~*~*~
Danny didn't quite seem to understand-or fully comprehend-what had happened, even as a frantic Mrs. Folley had driven the two children home....only to be held back by the fire department brigade that was surrounding the general area.
But the truth finally dawned on the distraught little one when his parents' remains had been removed from the mangled wreck that had once been in his home....and, as he did in the nights when he woke up from a particularly vivid flashback of said event,
Marsha sighed lightly.
Danny had been brought here, as of a result. But, as was found in many affluences of society-many new parents wished to have a child of their own. Or, if they did decide to adopt, it was generally one of the newborns that Marsha sometimes found swathed on the stone steps when she came to work in the morning. Poor things. Parents usually preferred to raise them first, as they affluenced more sympathy then the youth who were brought here.
Danny was a sweet little boy-but when people scheduled appointments to observe the children in their play, they often noted that the little, midnight haired boy was too quiet. Certainly, the boy was timid-and rather peculiar, but that shouldn't deter people. Right?
........right?
She tore a nearby sugar packet open, and carelessly poured the contents into her tea, reaching for her nearby spoon to stir its hot contents, faintly listening to Danny's small feet scurry up the stairs, as the clock chimed the hour.
At nine, when the one Danny looked for on such a daily basis began to walk to work, Danny sprinted up the stairs. And, at five, when the man left for home, Danny did so once again. Why, she did not know, but on the days that her clock simply would not start, it was a simple matter to listen to Danny drop his silverware in the floor above her (As Five o' clock was Suppertime) and hurry upstairs to look for the billionaire making his way home, and Marsha would know it would be time to leave-much as his frantic scurryings marked weirdly marked the passage of time- as they would do in the mornings.
As she listened to the sound of Danny's footsteps fading away as he made his way to
It was not a bad place, the town orphanage of Thornthicket. After all, it was where she had chosen to become secretary a generation or so ago-and, with a reasonable pay wage by the hour, could not complain about it thusly.
Still, she shook her head as she heard Danny make his usual route upstairs.
The boy WAS odd. The entire town knew that, for whatever reason, Vladimir Masters rarely tugged out one of his Rolls-Royces from the immense garages on his estate. Though the world-renowned ruler of a multi-million dollar empire that consisted of an enormous sea of companies could certainly afford having his chauffeur take him to work, the man simply walked to work every morning-and back every evening.
No one dared attempt to mug him.
And, after the man had settled in this small town-and had simply commenced his usual, sullen walk to Earth, it was easy to forget about him.
Much less care. What the elite did was their own business-and even the paparazzi could find little to no dirt upon him, much as they gave the grave attempt.
After awhile, they simply gave up trying. He simply wasn't interesting He wore black, spoke little-and, when he did, it was said to be in a stiff, short, brusque tone of voice that suggested he regularly lay orders-and expected them to be followed.
That was all.
But the little boy found him fascinating, from some bizarre reason or another. Why else would he hurry along twice a day to peer out the window, and look at Mr. Masters-a businessman-as he went by?
Whatever was so interesting-or what compelled the boy to look for him everyday, Marsha had no idea of its identity. When Danny had first arrived here-he had done little to associate with the other children. Marsha couldn't quite say she blamed him.
But, though he was loath to eat his meals-let alone leave the room at all, Marsha often noticed the boy peering out the window as Spring began to reclaim its reign upon the Earth.
And, even when he could occasionally be coaxed to come out from his room-and play with the other children, a trait that had now become a steady regular, much to her satisfaction-he continously felt the need to look outside-perhaps one or twice a day
But, Marsha soon noticed, whenever she would join the child at the nursery window, and attempt to tug him to some activity, as it didn't do good to brood, that he would be staring down at the all too familiar sight of Vlad Masters making his way up the neighborhood to his office building.
The third occasion, as she managed to convince Danny to color with some of the orphanage's little girls, the boy turned around, lapis lazuli eyes bright as he stuck out a small finger at the man's retreating figure. Marsha had to note to him that it wasn't polite to point as she hurried him along.
Nonetheless, even as he had abashedly lowered his hand, his eyes had darted back to Vlad's form three floors away.
"Who's that?"
Marsha had started, then remembered that Danny came from a different segment of town. Not knowing who Vladimir Masters was rather reminded her of someone blankly asking who the heck Walt Disney was.
"......Vlad Masters."
Danny had been settled down at one of the preschool tables, and had been handed a small blue crayon. His little fist had closed over it, and had absentmindedly begun to scribble in a coloring book as he fired another question.
"Oh. Does he liv' round here?"
Marsha had nodded as she stooped to pick up a discarded red crayon.
"Yes. In a larger area of town."
Danny had pondered lightly.
"Oh. Is that good?"
Marsha had shrugged as she broke up a dispute between a young blond haired boy, and a little brunette a few feet away.
"Very-for him. He's a billionaire."
When Danny had only given her a blank stare in response, she quickly revised her words.
"....that means he's rich."
The boy tipped his head lightly to one side.
"....izzat good?"
Marsha shrugged lightly.
" Again-for him. 'Rich' means that he has lots of money."
"So?"
Marsha started again as the boy threw her an almost skeptic glance.
"So? He can buy almost whatever he wants. Money talks, Danny."
The boy had looked slightly distasteful at that-and a little confused.
"Money don't....money doesn't say anythin'," he mused, beginning to scribble his badly disjointed rocketship again.
"It's just money. It can't do stuff. It can't DO anythin' at all. It can't speak-and it can't walk or hug or stuff."
Was it just Martha, or did Danny sound wistful?
The blond headed kid absentmindedly cutting a small piece paper with safety scissors from beside Danny rolled his eyes.
"Uh-yeah. Bout' that, kid-money gets you anything."
His violet eyes had sparkled slightly, and his fingers twitched lightly. Marsha mentally remembered the young boy's parents as being convicted drug dealers in the state-and very prominent ones, at that.
"ANYTHING."
Danny had only scowled in respone.
"No it doesn't. It doesn't do anythin' but make people really mad. And sad. I think it's dumb to have a lot."
It was rare to have Danny argue about anything at all-so Marsha only threw him a bemused, slightly incredulous look as the young boy stuck his tongue out at Danny-who paid no notice as he continued to scribble.
The woman raised an eyebrow.
"Hon? The last thing you want to do is call Vlad Masters dumb. You'll only get yourself in trouble."
Danny had shook his head slightly, but said nothing as he glanced out the window once again.
"Does Mr. Masters live with his Mommy?" he asked, peering at his rocketship with a critical eye as he began to dot the sky around it with stars.
The young boy had guaffawed.
"Dun' be stupid. Big people don't live with nobody but with what they like. And RICH big people don't go and live with their PARENTS-they live alone."
Danny had paused, black crayon slipping from his small hand, and rolling across the table counter. But Danny took no notice.
"....nobody? Doesn't he live with nobody?"
The child next to him rolled his eyes.
"It's ANYbody, you moron-and no. He don't live with nobody. He makes his OWN rules." Dash sounded lightly pleased with the thought.
Danny's eyes had flickered to the window, and then, back to Marsha's.
"......nobody at all?" he quipped softly. "Is that why he walks to work alone every morning?"
Just how long had this kid been watching Vlad?
But, once again, Dash answered him:
"Duh. Nobody walks with Vlad Masters. He wouldn't WANT them to-cause we're just scum on his shoes"
He spat as he moodily pounded the clay still in his hands.
"And no one cares nothin' bout it or him neither."
~*~
Ever since then,you could set your clock by this kid. Literally.
From what she understood, the boy had made it a regular past time of his to calculate when exactly the man came-and went. After he had been satisfied, he had contented himself with watching the man-rather like the old television the children were so prone to fight over.
He never called out to the man.
Never waved.
But he still watched.
Marsha shrugged lightly as she reached for her nearby coat still hanging neatly on its hook as usual, and glanced at her watch.
So Danny didn't think much of money. What else was there to note about Vlad Masters?
Shrugging again, Marsha simply reached for her nearby bag, and slung it over her shoulder as she made her way out the door.
The child was a dear, but an oddball. Ah, well. He'd grow out of it soon enough. Anyways, she had more important matters to ponder over.
As she quietly closed the door behind her, and glanced up at the late evening sky, she sighed lightly, wishing she'd brought her raincoat.
Judging by the severe vintage of dark clouds moving steadily over the skyline, it was going to rain soon-if not tonight.
~*~
The star strewn skyline was slowly being overcome by the opaque hue of a torrent of onyx clouds, drearily sloping over the diamond like sparks hovering peacefully over the world in a gentle, nightly veil.
After Danny had watched the man's retreating figure fade into the distance, he slowly popped his head back in, flinching as a crack of light streaked itself over the graying skyline in a flash.
Three, two, one-
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
Danny jumped, and let out a sharp cry.
As thunder roared over the wind whipping about outside, sending newly fallen autumn leaves scattering about wildly, the boy yelped, and started back, heart beginning to flutter in his chest cavity like that of a frantic butterfly, his hands pressed over his ears to block out the sound.
At least it had not yet begun to rain. As he had watched Vlad make his usual journey back home, his face impassive, he had noted, as always, that the man had not brought a hat or an umbrella. Hopefully, he would make it home soon enough, before the downpour would REALLY come down. Danny shivered slightly.
It wasn't the rain he minded so much-he'd always had fun splashing about in the puddles in the aftermath of a large storm, and it was always enjoyable for him to hold an umbrella underneath running water, and hear the soft plop, plop, plop noises that were raindrops dropping dully on the canvas of the umbrella.
And, for whatever reason, twirling about an umbrella was good fun, too. Danny cautiously backed away from the window, uncertainly clasping it shut with small hands, wincing slightly as thunder echoed its wrath from outdoors once more.
Brrrrr. The child anxiously twitched, hands pressed over his mouth as he noted lightning flash over the treetops outside of the window once again.
Danny hated thunder!
And it was all the more terrifying when there wasn't anyone around to deter it with hugs or giggles. Or a large bed that belonged to Mommy and Daddy to squeeze into on particularly restless nights.
The boy winced, and shoved the thought away.
Dash had been right in one way-and so had been Marsha. Brooding never got you nowhere.
With a slight sigh, the boy at last withdrew from the window, hand still clasped over his ears. After a minute or so, he slowly made his way to the nearby bed in his nursery, uncertainly grabbing a tressful of the sheets as he awkwardly climbed his way up, faintly wishing he had the phonebook that was always present on his chair in the dining room. Honestly, much to his consternation, he didn't seem to be growing as much as he would like.
...if at all. Marsha swore that Danny had SHRUNK half an inch or two just last measuring period!
Danny pouted lightly from underneath the cool covers, staring up at the dark ceiling as he did so. He winced lightly, drawing deeper into the pillows as he did so, squeezing his eyes shut.
This darkness was better. It was one that Danny could choose to immerse himself in and out of as he pleased.
....though there would only be more dark around himself if he chose to dispell the illusion, but that was easily well ignored.
~*~
Danny wished that Matron or Marsha would allow him to have a nightlight in this place-one he refused to dub with the title that had belonged-and STILL belonged-to Fenton Works, regardless if it were now a hollowed shell of filth and grime on an empty plot.
Home.
But Marsha, though a kind person at heart-simply dismissed nightlights as being unnecessary. After all, children couldn't very well grow up with the assurance that a small, bear-shaped light would always be softly illuminating the room, gently lulling one to an unbroken slumber-as they'd only become all too used to it, and never grow out of it. Marsha had a habit of preferring that fears or bad habits would be nipped in the bud as early as possible. In her opinion, it was never too early to start.....which was why she put chili powder on Mikey's fingertips, to stop him from sucking on them all the time.
That hadn't helped very much, as Mikey had not only become quite used to the chili powder, but by now had developed a taste for spicy Hispanic delicacies. Ah, well.
But Danny still shuddered as he threw the covers over his head, willing the night to stop so that he could properly disembark.
He curled up into a ball, and bit the inside of his mouth to keep himself from making a soft squeak as the silence began its terrible ringing into the room, broken only by the occasional, resonating thud of thunder.
It was dark.
And it was scary.
And Danny was alone in a torrent of nothing. Shivering, he threw his pillow over, and tried to think of other, more pleasant ventures.
His thoughts vaguely drifted over to the man he had been observing for little other two seasons once more. His brow creased ever so slightly as he faintly recalled Dash's comment, as he had so often done after the kid had so brashly made his remark:
"It's ANYbody, you moron-and no. He don't live with nobody. He makes his OWN rules."
"Duh. Nobody walks with Vlad Masters. He wouldn't WANT them to-cause we're just scum on his shoes."
"And no one cares nothin' bout it or him neither."
"And no one cares nothin' bout it or him neither."When Danny would come home from daycare, riding on his Dad's shoulder or holding Madeline's hand-the other parent was always waiting at home, occasionally watching from the window.
Waiting with a hug, an exclaimation over the fingerpaints that Danny had done that day, or a snack for the child to munch on while the two had took the time from their lab schedules to hear Danny babble vaguely about his day-listening to him as seriously as if he were an adult, which always made the child feel special before he meandered off.
And, at night, when the ghost hunting duo had tucked him in, it was usually fairly easy to drift off to sleep.
Because there was always the assurance of another prescence to be waited on or to wait for tomorrow. It was a lovely quota-and no one was left behind.
.........till last Spring. The two had gone.
And, seeing as how Jack and Maddie Fenton were no longer on Earth, HE'D most certainly been left behind.
Alone.
~*~
Danny buried his streaming eyes into his pillow, managing a slight sigh as he moved a fist towards his now runny nose.
And, with the loss of his parents, so had his life followed suit. Anything that had once been normal-any routine that might have ever been complacent in his life-!
Was soon gone. Gone into the ground-gone into the grave, and gone with Jack and Maddie.
~*~
That congruent loss was one of the main reasons why Danny had begun to look for the man he now knew was named Vladimir Masters every day. Did the man ever notice that Danny looked for him? Probably not.
But after Dash's aggressive point that Vlad had no one waiting for him-or no one to look at him, in spite of how renowned his was, in spite of riches-
Was he lonely? Could compassion be exchanged for a sum of money? Marsha had said that money talked. And money could get you almost everything and anything.
But it never seemed to make the man smile as he walked past the orphanage. At the very least, Danny had never seen him do so.
Did Vlad like to be alone?
Did he not care?
Would he honestly think of his fellow citizens as scum-like Dash so obviously claimed he did?
Rubbing his eyes with a soft, complacent sigh, Danny flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling once more.
He wished he had the nerve to wave-if just once. Maybe Vlad would look up someday and notice him trying to say hello.
But Danny didn't think he ever noticed. Or, if he did know that Danny looked for him on a daily basis-rather like a parade conchorus-he paid no heed.
The young boy wriggled slightly onto his side, clasping his stuffed bunny closer to him as he did so.
He never even had the nerve to be outside around nine in the morning, and five in the evening. Mechanically, Danny's body was well adjusted to know when the time came, and, were he playing outside, the boy would soon scurry inside to peer out the window, and watch the billionaire pass aimlessly by.
He wished he had the nerve to stay outside.
He wished he could at least PASS the man with a soft, polite, "Good afternoon." He'd heard them say that once in a book, and on the telly.
But, everytime the boy thought of doing so, his insides seized up, and his teeth anxiously bit his lip as his hands began to wring themselves.
.....no.
No, the man would merely give him a curt nod, or ignore him completely. Maybe Dash was right. Maybe the man was glad to be alone. Danny only wished he were so fortunate as to feel the same.
But it did give him something to look forward to, in his day. He liked to run up the stairs-and liked to watch Vlad slowly continue on his way to work and home, expression more then often inscrutable. Once, he had indeed glanced up-but Danny had scurried away from the windows in a flash, and hopefully, he'd escaped any and all notice from Mr. Masters.
It didn't seem right to reveal himself. But Danny took a secret pleasure in looking for him, and seeing him pass, just as he'd always done so. Even if the man were indeed indifferent to being alone-and couldn't possibly care less over what Danny did or did not do-it was a pasttime that had somewhere along the way had been transfigured into a pleasant obligation that he took part in by waiting.
He could wait for his parents forever. And, for a long time, he had waited for them, even after they'd unloaded Danny's few, surviving belongings at Briar's End.
He'd waited.
And waited.
................and waited.
But Mom wasn't coming back. And Dad wasn't either.
Danny hiccuped lightly on a sob, squeezing his eyes shut as the tears continued to spill down his now starkly alabaster face, made only apparent by the flashes of lightning that signified a BOOM following soon after.
But he could wait for the man. Vlad was extremely punctual-and had missed only a day or two of work for as long as Danny had been watching. Those days, he had waited with an odd feeling of dread in his stomach, feeling slightly anxious for the billionaire.
He didn't bother relating these woes to Marsha or the other children. It would merely seem odd for a boy to worry for a man he'd never even spoken to before-and even odder then it already was that he should look for said man.
But perhaps, that made it all the more better. Danny sniffled, wiped his face with the back of his head, and settled down on the faded comforters, turning to the side ever so slightly.
It was a gentle reassurance-even if one wasn't aware of it-that someone was looking for you-or after you, even for a short period of time. Though he could never confront the man about it-as if he could do so about anything-he hoped, in some pointless, roundabout way, it would better his day.
Feeling a bit better, Danny's heavy eyelids flickered once again, and the boy fell at last into a gentle slumber, breathing not broken by the night's resonating flashes and explosions of thunder.
Contrary to Marsha's expectations, it did not rain that night. It was merely static in the air.
~*~*~
But that was certainly not the case the next morning.
Late Autumn rain began to chorus down upon the world into a light sprinkle-then, into a hazing drizzle.
As the clouds continued their menacing dance around the horizon, they merely began to darken as the wide chasm of the sky began to gently excess the amount of water already pouring from the heavens into silver ringlets that flashed in the light.
But, soon enough, as the town's lamplights began to flicker out, one by one, the shower readily commenced into a ready downpour that continued on into the night, billions upon billions of raindrops bolting to the Earth in an icy downpour, wildly falling into puddles already formulating in the cobblestone streets, and, over time, widening into small pools trickling into the nearby sewers as the relentless barrage of raindrops falling upon the town rooftops continued.
It really made no difference to the man as he quietly peered out the window upon awakening, dark cobalt eyes gazing dully around himself in the dark before flickering over to the window.
Splendid. Rain.
With a slight sigh, the man stood, halfheartedly rubbing at his eyes before blinking blearily at the rain traipsing from the heavens outside of his window-upon the enormous estate grounds, well above the acres of town.
It was a pity he had to go to work.
....then again, perhaps not. After all, the office had always been his unwonted savior, blank and colorless that it was.
How fitting. Just as was life.
Vlad raised an eyebrow as he wearily made his way into his walk-in closet, routine steps so commonly executed that he was surprised there wasn't an enormous rut that hadn't been entrenched deep within the Earth from his regular business transactions that went throughout the day.
Morning-a light breakfast, a walk to work, arrival at work, answer a few phone calls, get his secretaries to categorize and manage some of the charting, check profits, attend several business meetings and hoped that he made his employees at least assume he cared about the cozy familiarity of Yomi that was his life, a small lunch, more useless and routine stumblings throughout his day, walk home, dinner, random meanderings, bed.
Oh, joy and carols of praise. His expression darkened as he glanced out at the rain still pouring about in buckets outside.
Well, he certainly wasn't going to ponder over his own pathetic existence-grandeur it was-at this point in time. He had a schedule to keep.
He managed the faintest hint of a smile, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly.
........and an appointment, at that.
~*~*~
The maids had bowed him off, as usual-and Kevin, his chauffeur, had given him his usual plea for the billionaire to allow him to drive him into town-using the weather as an excuse this time. It certainly was vicious enough outside.
But Vlad found it rather difficult to care as he shook his servants off, as usual, and set himself upon his way, carelessly buttoning an onyx colored overcoat over his tuxedo as he did so, gloved hands in his pockets as a pair of shiny black shoes set themselves on the damp concrete.
Concrete.
Again, how suitable.
Vlad would have ordinarily have scowled, but he kept his face well frozen into a hardened mask as he made his way down the walk-and past the elaborate iron gates of his manor.
Slight distaste resonated within the man as he continued his silent trek, eyes locked upon his feet as he continued his dull pace, not truly caring whether or not he made it to work on time. It was his company, after all-and, while he prided himself on being on top of things, this morning, he was feeling particularly monotonous. Perhaps it was the weather.
Or the shrill fact that he took pleasure from noting that his life resembled the same concrete on which he was walking. All the same, he would really be more accustomed to a more elaborate type-
But difference was there, once it was set in stone?
The rain continued to plummet, and Vlad continued his slow pace, vaguely noting that, as he began his journey into town, that no one seemed about. Perhaps this storm had deterred them all inside.
It really made no difference to the billionaire as he continued his slow, patient stride, glossy black shoes becoming steadier murkier as he navigated around puddles.
But perhaps he should have asked Kevin to drive him to work instead for a change. Then again, it would have looked strange for the Royce or for one of his limos to drive slowly past the town's children's home.
No.
His stride began to increase slightly.
It was one of the main reasons he insisted upon walking in the first place.
His life was a hueless calour.
Dull.
Plain.
And full of nothing.
Even before he had made his official debut as a pillar in the world of economics, the prospect of getting richer had sounded like a reasonable goal. And, for the first time in his life, it had given the man a reason to TRY for something in his otherwise meaningless existence.
So, he had strived to get to the top. It had been his main drive and accelerator for these past, miserable years.
But, although the obsession of GETTING and BEING there had helped define his character-one day, he had woken up.
Simply already there.
There was nothing left to try for.
Or look forward to.
And, while Vladimir Masters held everything, he held nothing.
~*~
His life was uninteresting, at best. He'd traveled the world. He'd set up corporations. He bought new delicacies-and enjoyed interesting prospectives.
But all of it had always been in reach. He'd never have to stretch far for anything, really.
And it'd become blank.
Mediocre.
Useless, really.
As the man continued upon his journey, he managed a small exhalation, pausing as he gazed at a reflection of himself in a nearby puddle.
It was blank.
All blank.
Sometimes, it made the man want to scream and throw things.
But the raging and desperate gnawing inside of himself was carefully concealed within an ironclad fortress that he'd worked upon for a wretched number of years.
Did he like things? It was hard to tell anymore.
Did he have opinions? He rarely used his voice unless necessary.
Was he a walking manikin that held nothing inside of it? Nothing but the hallowed chasm that reflected upon what Vlad had-and what he held:
Nothing.
~*~
The town treated him with deference.
But there was never any true friendliness behind it.
His employees were the same. The palpable shadow behind their eager smiles when they received their paychecks were quite noticeable.
No one trusted him enough to get within so much as an inch of what he truly was-which, quite possibly, could be nothing once more. It wasn't as if he knew how to encourage or entice people to him, outside of a bribe.
There was only one thing he knew he liked.
HAD something he liked.
But, for all the man knew, that "it" could very well be gone by the next day.
His fist tightened at the thought, and he quickened his pace, glancing at his watch as he did so.
His eyes widened, and he resisted the urge to walk, though he was now definitely hurrying.
He was going to be late-!
~*~
Little puffs of air escaped from Vlad's mouth in the hazy mist of the rain's barrage as the man hurried along. He prided himself on being punctual-and he never missed a meeting.
Meeting.
He scoffed inwardly. Neither him nor the child acknowledged their so called "meetings." When he'd first arrived in this stupid town, he'd merely like to walk every now and again for the excercise.
That was when he still had purpose.
But, as his momentum faded, and, one day, he was making his usual way to work when he'd felt eyes upon him.
The hairs on Vlad's neck had stood up, and he'd paused in midstep, eyes rolling slightly to the side to capture the object that had locked his attention, but he held his head at a degree, to make it appear he was still looking ahead.
A little boy with a mess of raven spikes upon his head was looking at him-looking at him with cerulean eyes.
Perhaps he was waiting for somebody?
But, as Vlad continued to feel the child's gaze locked on him-and solely upon him, he began to feel, perhaps, a bit unnerved.
What was this child looking at, exactly?
For a long time, he could feel the child staring at his back, but Vlad didn't quite trust himself to move as the little boy only looked at him.
Him, and only him.
He managed to tilt his head ever so slightly, his own midnight eyes locking steadily upon the child-who didn't seem to realize that he was being watched as an unusual expression came upon his face.
Was it sadness? If it was-it went away in an instant. The intensive stare the boy was giving him was....
.........affectionate. Almost....pitying.
And an odd twinge reverberated towards the billionaire's chest cavity as he continued on his way, eyes locked on the boy the entire time as he slowly walked away, blue orbs deadlocked upon the other.
That odd twinge had been in Vlad all day.
And, he found, after taking a small sip of water while staring out of the corporate executive window, that he did not particularly mind it.
Quite the contrary....
Vlad's eyes had narrowed slightly.
It was an if-and a very strong if at that-but maybe the look in the boy's eyes that he noted-noted, but could not properly discern what it was-would not be gone if he looked upon the boy once again.
That afternoon, he had informed Kevin on his phone that he would once again be walking.
~*~
The child had still been there. That, or had been waiting for something again. Another twinge flickered faintly in Vlad consciousness.
But this time, it had been envy. That one, he could quite easily distinguish, as he had felt it several times in his youth. That emotion had lead him onto his usual drive.
Hence the word, 'had.'
But the child's eyes had followed the man, and a small smile had lit up his face.
Vlad had started slightly as he went past, head still bent so that he could properly get a glance at the child gazing at him.
He liked the expression.
It looked....right on the child.
And it made him....pleased to have the simple resident of Briar's End look upon him like that.
He'd made his footsteps shorter, and was glad that the boy continued to gaze at him. It was actually rather satisfying. Vlad wished he could trust himself to wave.
But, soon enough, he'd had to walk away, as it would only look strange if he dawdled outside of the Home-and continued on his way, thoughts still straying to the little boy who'd perched at the windowsill.
~*~*~
And so, he'd begun to walk to work regularly. Once, he thought he would manage to wave to the child, but as soon as he began to turn his head, he'd noticed that the boy had hurried out of sight. Though his spirits had sunk considerately, he could not blame the little one for it.
Vlad didn't even know the boy's NAME.
He hurried along the path, knowing that the road past the orphanage was still a little ways away.
So what if the child happened to always be looking out the window when the man made his way past. He knew it could very well be coincidence, but, regularly seeing him at nine and five, he began to ponder the reason on why such a little boy would spend so much time looking at a street he'd seen plenty of times before.
Or...at him. Because, he'd noted that as soon as the child found him out of sight, he had a tendency to withdraw.
An odd sort of glow erupted in the man's chest.
Could the child possibly be looking at HIM?
~*~
Honestly, he knew it was rather sad to get so worked over something so small and as insignificant as a CHILD finding him interesting.
But still, the man walked past the building, not trusting his car to hesitate around the building for too long. It would only look peculiar-and suspicious. He had a much better chance of getting a brief glance at the boy by walking. Driving normally-particularly with a driver such as Kevin-would only be a rapid rush of color from the scenery outside of him. Far too disorientating.
And he wouldn't be able to have the child look at him with such a.....look.
What it was, he still didn't know-but it well reciprocated some of the gnawing creatures writhing about in his insides.
And he only wanted to see the boy more.
His spirits sank at the thought.
......if only he trusted himself that much....
~*~
Splish, splash.
Splish, splash.
Splish, splish, splish-!
Danny hummed lightly to himself as he kicked about his little boots, humming faintly to himself as he continued to make droplets splash about the world, quite glad that he could properly enjoy the weather thusly with a small, woebegone, but still in relatively good condition umbrella over his head, and a little red raincoat draped over his small features.
He sneezed lightly, sheepishly rubbing his nose slightly as he did so. He hoped he wasn't catching a cold.
The boy sighed as he cautiously extended a hand outside the canvas, feeling the cool tears drip from the corners of his umbrella onto his outstretched hand, and he withdrew the little palm, faintly wondering what to do next.
His stomach rumbled, but it was easy enough to ignore. Meal portions could only stretch so far with twenty nine residents at Briar's End, and Danny didn't eat very much for a boy his age anyways. Breakfast would come soon enough.
For now.......
Danny leapt upon the nearby stone, sending water cascading wildly into all directions.
A beatific smile graced his features as he whipped about, twirling the small parasol slightly about in his fingertips before splashing his way to the front of Briar End, still humming tunelessly to himself as he did so.
What to do next, what to do next....
Something began to brush against his subconcious as he scurried past the house, smiling pleasantly as Marsha smiled at him from a nearby window, supposedly "keeping watch" over him. Right.
The certain something could be ignored for now. As of right now, Danny was having more fun then he had had in ages. Most luckily, Marsha had indeed sensed the boy's keyed up state, and, after fussily bundling him up in old rain attire, she sent him outside as she continued to "monitor" him. Danny glanced at the figure visible inside the dark house.
Kinda looked like she was paying more attention to her computer monitor then she was actually monitoring HIM....
But that made it all the better. He could run where he would!
Joyfully, he began to hurry away from the large house, eyes fixed upon more puddles waiting in the distance-waiting to be splashed about in.
Leaping into a particularly enormous one, the boy's uncommon exuberance swept him away, and the nagging feeling that he was forgetting something could easily be pushed aside.
It couldn't be THAT important, could it?
Danny leapt about the smaller puddles, relishing the all too pleasant sounds that came from the puddles as his boots happily thudded against their damp exteriors, sending droplets spinning into the air as they did so.
Continuing to chase the large sea of open water available in the midst of the rain still torrenting the Earth, Danny moved steadily further from the building across the street, moving slightly up the path as he continued to delve into the rich treasure troves that made his heart leap.
But, even as he playfully splashed about the wetness, and noticed a frog ribbit slightly before hopping dolefully away, his brow creased ever so slightly.
He was having the time of his life. What could beat a good puddle jumping?
He frowned a bit, feeling a bit worried as he turned slightly to face the building on his right. He really wasn't supposed to leave the orphanage ground very oft-
Tap, tap.
Tap, tap.
Tap, tap, tap, tap-
~*~
The boy turned slightly, curious to see to whom the quiet footsteps echoing slightly from the sidewalk next to him belonged to.
And, he froze, already translucent skin abruptly turning a sheer alabaster.
He choked, and, immediately, after regaining some life back in his weakly shaking limbs, scurried behind a nearby tree, heart hammering as he did so.
Oh.
So THAT had been what he'd forgotten.
Barely a few meters away was Vladimir Masters, making his way down the intercity path.
......................and he'd paused at the sidewalk, his eyes transfixed on Danny's window.
Danny would have swallowed, but his throat was now far too dry. He swayed slightly, anxiously beginning to interlock his fingertips together as, at last, a soft silence only broken by the residue of the storm echoed through the rainy streets.
The footsteps-as they had not done for seasons-had come to a stop.
Danny began to shake slightly, both in fear, and in abrupt confusion.
He dared to peek his head around the corner.
~*~
Vlad had began to pass the home, much as he had always done so.
And, out of the corner of his eye, saw something that made him start, and come to a slight halt.
He saw nothing.
Now feeling incredulous, Vlad dared to get a better look, still not quite facing the actual building itself.
But he could tell enough that the boy was not there.
Telling himself not to be silly, he slowly turned his head towards the place where Daniel could often be seen staring intently at him with sappharine orbs.
Still nothing. The man blinked in bewilderment, eyes flickering slightly before they lowered to the ground.
.........
..............perhaps the boy had caught a cold? It was most unlikely for him not to be there when Vlad passed the building.
Where was he?
For a minute, the man felt slightly disoriented. He certainly wasn't used to schedule being broken-but this was more then that.
It was unsettling. The child never missed a day. He was quite glad of it-as it gave the man something to look forward to.
....but the boy lived in an orphanage. He certainly wouldn't have been there forever.
At the thought, Vlad froze, his insides locking down, and rippling from the unexpected blow that just tore at him.
.....had the boy been adopted?
Was he gone? He certainly wouldn't have taken the boy for granted, but........
For a minute or so, Vlad simply stood there, silver strands becoming plastered to his face from the onsluaghting rain as Danny peeked at him from the nearby tree, blue eyes enormous as he watched the man's shoulders....
Sag.
And, slowly, after a minute or two, the man reluctantly began to walk once again, eyes still locked on Danny's window, as if hoping he would appear.
Danny sank to his trembling knees as Vlad continued on his journey, the boy's umbrella falling to his side as he did so. The wind began to lightly ruffle the boy's raven spikes, but he'd paid no notice.
Shock.
Shocked-as well as completely baffled, Danny peeked out from behind the tree once again, eyes locked on the man's retreating figure.
Vlad had waited on HIM for a change. He had looked at the window.
And had looked for Danny. The boy swallowed, hands pressing over his mouth.
Had he known all along?
Danny hesitated, then stumbled onto the street as Vlad began to walk away, pace noticeably dispirited as Danny reached for his fallen umbrella, feeling anxious.
Oh, dear.
He'd missed it. But he'd been having so much fun-and, had never thought the man had particularly cared-!
Danny's eyes flickered with embarrassment as he watched Vlad continue into the rain, becoming more visibly soaked by the minute as the rain poured from the dark skyline without remorse.
He swallowed.
Hadn't Matron or Marsha told him that was one way to "catch your death?" Danny didn't precisely know what that meant, but it certainly sounded bad.
He took a step forwards, then paused.
What he was about to do probably wouldn't be particularly bright. It would hurt-actually, truly hurt-if the man did exactly what Dash had predicted he would do if anyone approached him.
He swallowed.
And, forcing up all of his courage, he ran forwards, breathing ragged.
~*~
Splish, Splash, splish splash
He had to catch up with him.
Splish, Splash, Splish Splish-!
Vlad's shoes continued to tap against the stone as Danny ran to catch up to the man's long strides, cheeks reddening from effort as he continued to sprint along, holding the umbrella awkwardly over his shoulder with two hands.
Splish, Splash, -!
The billionaire paused lightly-as if he'd heard something. Shaking the thought off, he continued on his way forward, not knowing that his face was set into a troubled scowl.
Splish, Splish-SPLASH!
"Oof!"
Vlad started as a particularly large splash echoed from behind. Jolted from his reverie, the man yanked around.
His mouth fell open slightly, but no sound came out.
There was the boy. Lying in a puddle, rubbing a small fist about his eyes, the boy moaned lightly before awkwardly standing up once again, his face a remarkable cherry red as he snatched up his small umbrella, face downcast.
For a minute or two, the two simply stood there, Vlad staring at the boy in amazement as he timidly stepped over to the man, and uncertainly tugged at his black coat before shyly extending his umbrella to the man.
For a minute, the man simply looked at it, eyes trailing from the small object in Danny's hands to the trembling boy still extending it towards him before realization stirred him, and comprehension broke over the billionaire in the form of a disbelieving, gentle smile before he slowly bent on one knee towards the child to better level themselves.
The boy was offering it to him.
~*~
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
He had reversed direction, and had carelessly called the office on his cell to inform him that he was...momentarily detained.
For the entire day.
Vlad continued on his journey back, humming slightly as the rain continued to beat down about him.
But never on him, and that was good. He managed a slight smile at the thought.
The boy's splish, splash, splashing had already faded away. He supposed it might be difficult for them to do so when the boy's boots were no longer on the ground.
Danny lay awkwardly cradled in the man's arms, an arm thrown about the billionaire's neck as he struggled to hold the umbrella over the both of them as Vlad patiently made his way back to Briar End.
Not that he intended on letting the boy go again...oh, no......
Hopefully, if this Miss Marsha could give a few segments of her time....
The end. Wow, I'm mortified. I wrote something this terrible? D: Gomen nasai....
I think we all know what happens next. Silly, whimsical-and not making too much sense, but I guess I like it alright. It just gets kinda boring after awhile....