A/N: This chapter turned out loooooooooong. Enjoy!


Chapter 3/Being Different

"S-T-A-L-L."

"St-stall?"

"That's right!" Jimmy grinned down from the stack of hay bales he sat upon, watching Victor muck out the stalls. Technically he was not supposed to be out there, as the hay often made him sneeze which could lead to an allergic reaction. But this was where Victor was working and so this was where Jimmy deigned to be. After sneezing for a while, Jimmy had decided to quiz Victor on his words and letters. He had spent the past several months teaching Victor how to read. In secret of course, since both Jimmy and Victor knew their parents would believe this to be a waste of time.

The going was slow, mainly because Victor would get frustrated often and when he did, he either tossed the book away or stormed out of the room. But Jimmy was a patient teacher and Victor was learning.

"H-O-R-S-E."

"Horse," Victor said immediately, having guessed that that would be the next one Jimmy would spell out, seeing as the boy was looking at the horses move about in their stalls. They did not like the smell of Victor and were afraid of the boy. Every time he drew near, they would sidestep away, watching him warily. He smirked faintly and faked a lunge at the horse nearest to him. The poor beast almost reared in his fright, whinnying plaintively as he shuffled and pranced as far away from the boy as he could.

Victor could not help but chuckle slightly.

"You're getting really good at this," Jimmy said, just as another voice called into the stables.

"James! Are you there, son?"

Victor turned hastily back to his mucking as John Howlett entered the stables. His eyes grazed over Victor before moving upwards to where James sat upon the hay bales.

"Hello Father!" he called, grinning as he waved.

Howlett laughed quietly and waved back. "Hello, son," he said. "What are you doing up there?"

"Watching Victor," the boy said frankly. "I wanted to help but he wouldn't let me."

"As well he shouldn't," Howlett said with a glance at Victor. The servant kept his eyes on the ground, his lips tightening.

"He told me to stay out of his way so I came up here," Jimmy went on.

"Well come on down, son, we don't want you catching hay fever or any sort of thing like that, now do we?" Howlett gestured for James to come down to him.

The boy clambered down to do just that, but the toe of his shoe caught on the end of one of the bales, and he started to fall forward. Quicker than Howlett could twitch, Victor was at Jimmy's side, grabbing him from the air and setting him upright on his feet. Jimmy grinned.

"Thanks Victor," he said.

Victor said nothing but glanced over at Howlett who was frowning slightly. "Yes, thank you Victor," he said, stepping forward quickly to lay a hand on James's shoulder, almost protectively it seemed.

Taking the hint, Victor moved away, his usual frown crossing over his forehead once more. Jimmy squirmed as Howlett brushed him off and hurried to one end of the stable where his pony stood munching on some hay.

"Father, look how high I can pet him," he said, reaching up toward the pony's neck. Before he came in contact with the animal however, it suddenly shied back a few paces, the whites of its eyes showing as it shook its head in fear. Jimmy jumped back in alarm.

"What's wrong with him?" he asked, doubt creeping into his voice.

Howlett stepped up to his son, a puzzled look on his face. Reaching out, he grabbed the pony's halter and gently drew the shivering horse over, stroking its neck gently. Gradually the horse calmed down, but its nose quivered and when Jimmy tried to step closer, it bobbed its head up and down violently in agitation.

"Victor, take James back to the house," Howlett said. "I'll see if I can calm the horses down."

"Yes, sir," Victor said, setting the rake aside.

"But why—"

"James, don't argue," Howlett said firmly. "Victor."

Victor hurried forward and grabbed a handful of Jimmy's shirt sleeve, tugging him along as he led him out the door. Jimmy looked back once to see his father speaking softly to his pony, petting its neck and rubbing its nose.

Once outside the stables, Jimmy shook Victor off his arm and frowned, putting his hands on his hips.

"Why didn't my pony let me touch him?" he demanded with all the audacity of an eight year old (his birthday had just past the previous week).

"I bet he smelled me on you," Victor gave the only explanation he could think of. "From when I caught you."

"Why do the horses not like your smell?" Jimmy asked, relaxing his arms to his side, satisfied with the first answer and waiting for the second.

Victor shrugged. "Another side-effect of my ability I guess," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide the grotesque nails.

"Your ability has a lot of side-effects," Jimmy observed.

"I know." Victor glanced over at the barn where his father could be heard cursing at the chickens as he attempted to clean their living area. Turning away, he looked down at Jimmy. "Come on, your mother will be wondering where you are."

As they walked toward the main house Jimmy asked another question.

"Will you come up to my room and play with me? I got new soldiers."

Victor thought he could come up with a hundred things more exciting to do than to play with tin soldiers in a stuffy bedroom all afternoon, but he knew all his ideas would be too rough and rowdy for the slight, sickly boy. Another downside to being Jimmy's friend. Still time was time and Victor preferred his time be spent with Jimmy rather than without him. Unfortunately that time would not be today.

"My father wants me to come home with him for supper," he said, keeping his face carefully impassive. "We'll be back later in the evening, probably. But I won't be able to play. I'm behind in my work. Your father would not be pleased."

"I don't care what my father says. I want you to play soldiers with me," Jimmy said defiantly, scowling so darkly Victor had to chuckle. He reached out and ruffled the younger boy's dark hair.

"I'd rather be spending time with you too, but if I don't work I get in trouble. And my father wouldn't be pleased with me either."

Jimmy heard something odd in Victor's voice just then. Something he would only come to know later as bitterness. But at the moment he only thought of it in passing and then promptly forgot about it. Since the older boy's expression did not change from its normal brooding look, Jimmy had no further reason to believe anything was wrong.

"I'll sneak out and see you tonight," Jimmy said suddenly as they reached the front doors of the main house.

Victor stopped short and reached out to grab Jimmy shoulder. "No you won't," he said with a low, frightening growl.

Jimmy stared up him, hazel eyes wide with puzzlement and hurt. "Why not?" he demanded.

"Because . . . I said you couldn't. And that should be enough." Without another word of explanation, Victor shoved Jimmy into the doorway of the main house and turned away.

"That's not a reason!" Jimmy shouted at Victor's back. The older boy did not slow in his stride or look back, leaving a disgruntled Jimmy behind.


That night, when all were in bed, Jimmy pushed back his covers and swung his legs over the side of his bed. The wood creaked slightly as he stepped down, and he froze, counting to ten unnecessarily before stepping out again. He snuck out his door, shutting it softly behind him. Wrapping his robe tighter around his body, he tip-toed as quietly as he could down the stairs. The last step protested loudly to his weight, and he stood frozen a second time, squeezing his eyes shut as he counted down from twenty . . . just in case.

When no one jumped out and grabbed him, he hopped to the floor and ran to the large double doors. Of course they had to be locked. Jimmy looked around the grand foyer. His eyes lit up when he caught sight of the door to the dining room. It led to the kitchen which had a small door that came out behind the house.

He made his way through the house to the kitchen, his bare feet barely making a sound over carpet and polished wood. When he reached the kitchen, he pushed the door open slowly, praying it would be silent. It was. With a grin, he bounded out into the darkness, heading for the groundskeeper's house which he knew lay to the west of the property. It was not a lot of information to go on, but Jimmy was confident he would be able to find his way.

It was cold outside, frost glistening in the moonlight. It was just the beginning of spring. The snow from winter had melted away already, but the warmth of summer had not yet come upon the Northwest Territory of Canada. Jimmy's feet were cold, but he kept moving in order to warm them. He wondered if he should have put on some shoes before he left. It seemed silly to have forgotten them, but in his haste to get out of the house he must have.

As he went on he wondered briefly if this was a good idea. Victor had seemed very adamant about him not visiting the groundskeeper's home. Jimmy frowned when he remembered the furious look on the older boy's face as he told him never to come over. But Jimmy was positive Victor would change his mind once Jimmy got there. He would be so pleased to see him, he would forget all about being angry. With that positive thinking, Jimmy hurried forward as he saw the lights of a house ahead.

He drew up short when he came within shouting distance. He knew it was shouting distance because that was the first thing he heard. Angry shouts. Suddenly he wondered if this had been a good idea after all. Stealthily he crept toward the side of the house where a window was. He could recognize the voice now. It was Thomas Logan, Victor's father. He was yelling at someone. Jimmy could only make out shadows moving about in the house, so he could not tell who was receiving the brunt of Logan's anger. As he knelt underneath the window, Jimmy heard a second voice and his breath caught in his throat. It was Victor's voice.

"Father, you've had too much to drink. Go to bed and sleep it off." He sounded rather irritated and not at all afraid of the ranting and raving drunkard that was his father.

"You do not talk to me that way, you miserable piece of –" he went on to call his son a list of names that caused Jimmy's mouth to drop open and wonder if his mother would scrub his mouth out with soap if he ever tried them back at home.

Victor then proceeded to shoot the insults back at his father. This resulted in loud shouting, crashing, and the harsh sound of flesh hitting flesh. Jimmy winced as each blow found its target. Through the entire ordeal however, Jimmy could not help but feel proud of Victor. Never once did he hear the boy cry out or scream in pain. But a sick feeling twisted in his gut as he realized what was happening. And Victor was not fighting back. Jimmy could tell because after a while there was silence except for the sound of heavy, labored breathing. And then Thomas Logan spoke.

"When I get back I expect this place to be clean. You hear me little—" again with the list of names. Jimmy chewed on his bottom lip and kept completely still as the drunk man staggered out of his house. The wet frost was seeping into Jimmy's clothes, and his toes felt almost frozen, but he did not so much as flinch as Logan stormed away into the woods toward the path that would take him to the nearest town.

For a few moments nothing moved inside the house, then Jimmy could hear the sound of furniture being righted and glass being swept up. He contemplated just leaving now and pretending he had never been there, but when he stood slowly he found his legs had fallen asleep and they crumpled underneath him, tossing his body to the ground. He could not help but yelp softly in surprise. The movement inside the house ceased. All was still and quiet and not even the crickets chirped. Jimmy then noticed that he had not heard any sort of animal during his entire eavesdropping.

The window suddenly burst open and Victor leaped out of the house, landing on top of Jimmy and pinning the smaller boy underneath him.

"I told you never to come here!" Victor shouted, his discolored face contorted with rage. Jimmy stared, wide-eyed, as numerous bruises and cuts healed themselves before his eyes. "What are you doing here?!" Victor lifted Jimmy's shoulders slightly before slamming him back onto the ground so hard the younger boy's teeth rattled together.

"Victor, you're hurting me!" Jimmy cried out breathlessly from lack of air to his lungs. Victor's knee had landed directly in his stomach. And now the tight grip with those long fingernails did not help either.

Victor scowled down at him for a moment before standing, dragging Jimmy up with him by the younger boy's robe. With an unceremonial shove, he sent Jimmy staggering off in the direction of Howlett Manor. Before he got far however, the boy collapsed, teeth chattering, hand shaking, cold all over from the weather and the scene he had just witnessed.

With a sigh and a growl of frustration and irritation, Victor stormed over and grabbed another handful of the boy's robe, pulling him to his feet.

"What's wrong with you?" he demanded through gritted teeth. He peered down at the younger boy and noticed with some concern (although he did not show it) that Jimmy's face was pale, his lips turning blue. As he stood there, wondering what to do, Jimmy started coughing. Lightly at first, but enough to throw Victor into a slight panic.

"Oh no," he cried (using a much stronger word than "no"), knowing he would be blamed for Jimmy's getting ill if anyone found them outside together.

As he glared down at the shivering boy, he felt himself soften slightly. As angry as he was that Jimmy had come to his house after he had explicitly told the boy not to, he realized that Jimmy had eavesdropped on the entire fight with his father. Something like that had to have been traumatic for the boy. That coupled with the weather conditions and the fact that Jimmy was wearing nothing but a long night shirt and a robe, caused Victor to worry about his friend's health. And the punishment Victor was to surely get if anyone found out that he was the cause of Jimmy's cold.

So with a sigh, he started forward, pulling the stumbling boy behind him. When the boy began to fall again, Victor stooped and picked him up, one arm under Jimmy's knees, the other around his back. He was surprisingly light and Victor found he could run easily. That was good: they could reach the Manor before anyone noticed they were gone.

Jimmy moaned slightly at the bumpy ride, but did not protest to being carried. He was exhausted from the long walk through the icy frost and then the terror of witnessing his best friend being beaten by his own father. The memory was enough to make the small boy shudder. Victor thought the movement was from the cold and so ran faster.

When they reached the Manor there was no one outside looking for them. Victor took that as a good sign. He made his way through the kitchen, dining room, and foyer, moving up the stairs carefully, avoiding the creaky steps. When he arrived at Jimmy's room, he laid the boy down on the bed and covered him with the sheets and blankets before moving over to the fireplace and adding some more woodchips to the dying flames.

"Victor?" James asked weakly from his bed, coughing lightly into his hand.

There was a pause before Victor spoke.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice gruff, his cold blue eyes on the flickering fire.

"Why does your father hit you?"

The question was so innocent and frank that it took Victor a moment to figure out how to answer. He turned away from the fire and looked directly over at Jimmy, his face now obscured in shadow.

"Because I'm different," he stated flatly. "Get some sleep. You'll be sick in the morning."

He headed toward the door.

"Victor?"

Victor paused, his fingernails grazing the edges of the doorknob. "Yeah?" He kept his eyes on the doorway, itching to get away from Jimmy's questions.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you."

Victor could not help but smile slightly, revealing those sharp eye teeth. He glanced over his shoulder at Jimmy. "You should worry more about what your father is going to say when he finds out your sick from being outside after dark."

"He won't find out. I'll tell him the wind got through my window." Jimmy knew now that the consequences for Victor getting in trouble were far more serious than he could have imagined.

Victor could not help but feel impressed. Lying to the head of the household? Who did that? He certainly would have never expected it from a rich, momma's boy like James Howlett. He nodded in response to the statement.

"Thanks," he said and moved to leave again.

"Victor?"

Victor was tempted to sigh but made himself not, instead he simply stood in the doorway, about the close the door. "Yeah?"

"I don't care that you're different. You're the best friend I've ever had."

Victor shook his head slightly. "Goodnight, Jimmy," he said, unable to keep his voice impassive. A slight fondness entered his tone, which surprised him. He wondered vaguely if he was growing soft in regards to Jimmy. He would have to keep an eye on that.

"Goodnight, Victor" came the sleepy reply.

Victor shut the door and paused before heading down the hall, breathing in deeply, savoring the scent that lingered around the edges of the door. Victor still had not figured out why James smelled so familiar, but he decided he would stop agonizing about it. Why second-guess a good thing? He should just accept the contented, safe feeling he felt when around Jimmy. After all, the boy had just admitted that Victor was his best friend. He could not take that for granted.

That was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. In that moment Victor claimed Jimmy as his own brother. He would tell no one of course, but there the bond would be. For indeed, the bond between them was like one between two siblings.

Instead of heading down to return to his house, Victor lay down on the floor in front of Jimmy's room, breathing the comforting scent in deeply. Before he was completely asleep, he felt the door open behind him.

"Victor?" a soft voice from above him asked softly.

"Yeah?" he mumbled, still half asleep.

"Nothing. I just felt like you were there and wanted to make sure."

With that the door closed, but not all the way. A small crack kept the two boys connected as Jimmy got back into his bed and Victor drifted off to sleep in front of his best friend's bedroom.


So yeah, lots happened in this chapter. I'm getting near the end, I foresee only about 3 more chapters left. I don't know if they'll be as long as this one though, lol. Although they might! My Muse seems to really like this story, so I'm sure she'll help out plenty. Review and tell me what you think of the chapter!