A/N: Hey! New chapter for you guys! XD ...n.n' I hope it's alright though. I was here all afternoon finishing this up. :) I've already started on the next chapter--maybe that'll be up during the weekend. :D Okay, here it is, guys! Enjoy!
--CHAPTER EIGHT: DEBILITATE--
"Look, Mommy. This man has the same hair as us."
He looked up to where the little girl that had a hold of his jacket was looking.
And saw her standing in the wake of the falling feathers, her face surprised and…he didn't want to admit, sad, and hurt, too. The cones of ice cream she'd been carrying had dropped to splatter all over the ground, it seemed. His heart skipped a beat. His eyes fell quickly to the children before him. He noted their dark…purple hair, their lovely pale complexions, their different colored eyes. One blue. One red.
He reached out a hand to touch the dark curls of the little girl who had his jacket in her hand.
"Aimee! Xavier! Come here!" His hand stopped. He looked up. Rosette was looking at them with large, fearful, panicked eyes. Her lips were quivering; her voice had sounded strained to the point of breaking.
He looked at her, then back to the children. The little boy and little girl who had to be no more than three years old, with their long, violet, curls and their long, thick, dark lashes.
…
Aimee's hand dropped from the man's coat at her mother's yell. Her mother never yelled unless they were doing something she thought was really dangerous. She looked at the tall man before her who had caught her eye because of his unusual purple hair. Like theirs; except his was just to his shoulders and straight, not long and curly like hers and Xaviers.
Xavier looked at her. 'We should go to Mommy.' His eyes said. She agreed, and so, with a nod and her hand in his, Xavier led the run back to their mommy, their feet tap-tap-tapping on the concrete underneath.
…
With confused, delayed steps he started to follow the children—to Rosette, it seemed.
But her scorching look made him stop dead. Yes, she still looked like she'd seen a ghost—but, hell, she looked like she'd kill that ghost, again, if it got any closer to her. And him being the ghost, in her eyes, and really not yet dead, nor wanting to die, he stopped.
She kneeled before the children that had run to her, her hands roaming over their arms and faces in a motherly way; worry etched in her face as she asked them something in quiet whispers he could not hear. He watched her, all her beauty still intact, along with her anger and worry and all those other things Chrono did not want to see. Chrono had not wanted to see her ever again. Right?
…
"Are—are you alright?" Rosette whispered with quiet worry to the twins before her. She felt their arms, her hand gently searching for something broken. Her hands came up to touch first the little girl's face, cupping her cheeks and brushing aside the bangs on her head, kissing her forehead. Then she looked at the little boy standing beside his sister, looking at her with worry. And scared that they had done something wrong.
She smoothed his hair gently back. Brushed his bangs aside and kissed his forehead also.
"Oh, it's alright." She whispered calmly. "It's alright. Just never, never, ever do this again, you hear?"
She looked fervently at the two. "Never, ever again. Okay?" She sighed, pulling them both in for a tight embrace. "Do you know how worried I was when I turned around and didn't see you?"
"I-I'm sorry, Mommy!" The little girl broke into tears. "It was my fault, not Xavier's! I-I saw the man and followed him and made Xavier come with me!"
She nodded. "It's all right, baby." She whispered, "It's alright. I just…don't ever want to see you two get hurt. I was so worried. I thought someone had taken you away, you know?"
"It's alright." The little boy was sobbing now, too.
"Don't be mad at Aimee." He was crying. "I wanted to see him, too. I'm sorry, Mommy!"
"Shh…" she whispered softly into their small, weeping forms. "It's okay, now. I'm not mad. I promise. I'm not mad at you at all. Shh…"
That was when she heard the sound of footfalls coming their way and she looked up.
…
Xavier was wiping his damp eyes by the time he saw that their mommy was in front of them. She was standing in front of them, her shadow hiding them. It was funny, he felt so safe here. And he looked over at Aimee. She was still sniffling. He brought his hands up and wiped her eyes and nose.
"Shh," he whispered, just like his mommy had. She looked at him and offered an 'I'm sorry' smile.
He smiled back. "It's okay," he whispered, just like his mommy had, too.
But now…as he turned his face upwards to look at his mother, he stopped.
He'd never seen her like this. Shaken and panicked, and…like she was going to start crying, too.
He looked at where she was looking. That man. His eyes lowered into an angry glare. He tugged on Aimme's sleeve as she used it to wipe at her nose.
"Look," he said as he looked at their mother, then at the man who was now coming closer. And their mother…she seemed even more scared.
Aimee looked. She'd never seen her mother looked scared either. She'd never even entertained the notion that their mother could be scared. Aimee looked at Xavier. He was just as worried as she was, it seemed. And so she grew more worried. Xavier looked angry, too.
Xavier was glaring at the man who was approaching with slow steps. The man who had the same hair as them.
He wasn't stopping though.
He just kept coming closer. And their mother seemed to be taking a small step back.
As if she were a rabbit before a hungry wolf.
He grew angrier at the stranger. Look at what that stranger was doing to his mommy!
He looked at Aimee as she looked at him.
…
The children seemed to step from nowhere to the front of the blonde. As if shielding her.
Their roles reversed.
Chrono stopped, surprised, as he looked down at the little kids.
They were glaring at him. Death daggers, if possible. From two little kids. No more than three years old!
Their hands were joined and the little boy especially was glaring at him. It was unnerving in a way, to see that look from a child. And with two different eyes looking at him. Two pairs of different eyes looking at him. One was as blue as Rosettes' the other a deep red-maroon. Like…
"Go away," the boy said.
"Yeah," the girl added.
He stopped. It was funny how threatening these toddlers sounded. Could toddlers even sound threatening?
The blonde looked down as if this were the first time she'd noticed that they were there.
Relief flooded her face as a small smile made its way to her lips.
She grabbed their small hands in hers and, saying, "Don't worry. They're not yours." She strode away with no more than a glance at him.
His heart stopped.
…
She was bent over, her hands on her knees, as she tried to draw in more breath. As soon as she had rounded that corner, she had run. Run to get as far as possible from him. She wasn't scared. She knew that much. Just…it was seeing Chrono again. It made her feel…weak, somehow.
And that worried her.
The two on either side of her were looking at her worriedly. She turned a sideways grin towards them.
"Mommy's okay…Mommy's okay," she said gently, catching her breath.
Xavier's hand was holding tightly to her jacket, as if to let go, she might fly away with the wind and never be seen again. Aimee's hand grasped her jacket as well, holding just as tightly, if not more.
"Are…are you sure, Mommy?" she asked quietly.
Rosette grinned, straitening up and cheerfully looking back down at them. "Yep. I'm alright. Just…needed a little exercise."
"Oh…okay." The little girl answered, smiling weakly up at her. Xavier clung tightly to her, not saying as word as he watched.
"Really," she bent before them and pulled them into the sanctuary of her arms, "It's all right. Don't worry."
But she was worried.
"Ah, that reminds me," she said, getting to her feet again, "Why don't we go back home. You can help me make some cookies. Okay?"
They brightened at the thought of cookies. Rosette relaxed. Thank god it was so easy to get their minds away from the same worry that was gnawing at her mind.
…
He was there a long time. Frozen in a paralysis, staring at the place where they had been; at the place where Rosette had been.
When he finally did move, he moved in a daze, exiting the park and catching a taxi to that flat that he hardly lived in, and paying extra to the very astonished taxi driver.
Entering the elevator and getting off on the top floor, his "home" of sorts, he fumbled the key through the lock and opened his door.
Stepping inside, his eyes glazed over the extravagance of the whole place. The artworks hung on the walls and over the mantel; the expensive vases and cabinets, tables and chairs; the crystal chandelier overhead; the lush carpet underfoot and the plush couches around the living area. His eyes glazed over it all, blind to the lavishness around him.
Without taking his shoes off, he slipped from room to room, finally finding himself in the master bedroom. Not taking off shoes or coat, he fell onto the king sized bed. The silken sheets and embroidered pillows gathered in wrinkled bunches around his prone figure as he lay there on his back, staring, unseeingly, at his ceiling.
His eyes finally closed and he fell into unconsciousness, dreaming of blondes just out of his grasp and little faces—different colored eyes ringed by dark lashes, long tresses framing their faces—angelic as any of Botticelli's paintings. But as he reached for them, yelled and screamed for them to wait, she turned to him with tear stained eyes, begging as he was, to hear her out. Rosette.
And in the melee of this dream he reached out…
But could grasp no one.
Because in his rush, he had pushed them all away.
…
Someone was at the door.
BANG
BANG
There they were pounding at it again. He didn't want to get up. He never wanted to rise again. Let me die in peace and quiet, he thought to himself. Just let me die.
Of course that was not going to happen any time soon.
"Chrono, my boy!"
Of course, his grandfather.
"What the hell are you doing, boy?!" the old man just kept shouting.
"In the name of Xavier Antony Daemon, GET THE HELL UP!"
He shot up. Xavier…Xavier…the name.
Scrambling to his feet and caring little for his bedridden appearance, he hurried to the door.
Just as a knock was about to sound again he swung the door open, surprising the old man on the other side of the door.
Then a grin spread across the old mans' face. "You're—"
Before more could even get out of his mouth though, Chrono had already grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pushed him into the opposite wall, a look of rage and torment as evident as the tear streaks down his face and his mussed up hair.
"You knew didn't you?" he growled into the old man's face. "You knew and for four years—FOUR YEARS—you didn't tell me?!"
The old man looked confused a moment, then a look of realization slowly crossed his face, his features growing into slight guilt and sorrow.
"Chrono…" he murmured softly.
"You…!" Chrono let go of the fabric that he'd been holding so tightly in his hands, snapping around.
"Chrono…is this about…" his grandfather trailed off.
This only infuriated the young man further. He spun quickly around to face the old man again, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and, not very gently, dragged him into the room, pushing him towards one of the plush couches set before the fireplace.
"Yes, this is about Rosette—about the two children with her!" he shouted into the old man's face as he sat down, looking at the old man and then pointedly at the couch directly opposite him.
Sighing, his grandfather sat down in the plush couch, his hands clasping before him.
"You don't understand, Chrono," he said.
"What don't I understand?!" he yelled. He couldn't help it. He knew he shouldn't be, but he was.
Breathing in deeply to try and calm himself, he clenched his fist, his nails digging into his palms and forming little crescents in his skin, his short, shoulder-length hair falling to cover his face. He was shaking and his teeth he'd clenched tightly, to the point where he was sure he might just break them.
"What…don't I understand?" he asked again, his voice quiet as a whisper on a distant wind, almost seeming broken. "Tell me…what don't I understand?"
Xavier Antony Daemon looked warily at his grandson. He really DID have anger issues, that boy…
"Chrono, my boy," he whispered just as softly, "You can't even begin to comprehend how much that girl did for you—how much Rosette Christopher did for you…"
…
"Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul."
--A Psalm of Life, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
--END CHAPTER EIGHT: DIBILITATE--
A/N: Yep. :) How was that then? Also thank you so much for all the input on the last chapter--I was so VERY happy to hear from all of you! Thank you for all the kind comments on the names--I have to say though; I had help with it. I could NEVER have decided on the names without the help of a specific somebody. ;) Pss...that's poshpuppy27, for you. Yes, so a LOT of thanks go to her for the big help. Just as I am bad at picking presents...I'm also very bad at deciding names. Oh, and before I forget: I hope you all got that Chrono's grandfather's name is Xavier Antony Daemon. I'm afraid I might've confused some of you on that... ANYWAYS, don't forget :D REVIEW! Tell me your thoughts! (I love hearing from you guys!)
