Chapter 5: With Overwhelming Emotions


With Overwhelming Emotions

I cannot bear to think of what you've experienced

What has taught you to flinch

What has taught you to look away

I cannot stand to imagine

What you've been through

Despite my efforts

To figure out the cause

Why does it seem like

Time is moving backward

Though I know well enough by watching the clock

Watching it closely like my life depends on it

That it's moving slowly forward?


He learned fairly quickly that the boy didn't like it whenever he wore his lab coat around the house.

At first, he wore his lab coat in order to get into the general mood of working upon the reports he was given from his workplace. The coat provided a sense of professionalism; of order in a time of personal chaos. As the coat hung around his tall frame, he felt like he could work; like nothing had changed in his life as he continued to take care of his responsibilities as best he could.

The first time, the only time, he'd walked into the guest room in order to take care of the boy with the coat on, he nearly cursed himself out as the boy's eyes landed on him and immediately shot open, filling with immense fear as he curled into himself as closely as he could for protection, not once letting his gaze leave the man before him. Andvari himself flinched at the other's reaction, not understanding why he would even be all that shocked before looking down at himself, finding the white coat shifting upon his form. He could see how, despite being in a completely different location, miles away from the cell that he'd been placed in, the sight of the lab coat alone transported the boy back there in an instant. He quickly excused himself, placed the coat on a nearby coat hanger, and came back to help the boy, though, he wasn't as open to letting him dress his wounds as he was earlier.

He learned fairly quickly that the boy preferred him not to raise his voice above more than a half-whisper.

His voice wasn't one that he'd say was all that threatening, but then again, he didn't have enough people skills to accurately state that, given that most others often avoided speaking with him when they could. It was low, accented, and, according to Martha, rather dulcet in tone. He didn't enjoy speaking all that much if it had to do with trivial matters, but he found when he spoke, others at least listened intently.

He'd never considered his voice threatening in any way whatsoever before. Not until he found the boy flinching at his words whenever he called out to him from across a room. Not until he found the boy cowering at his questions, closing his eyes as he asked him if he was alright.

He learned fairly quickly that the boy just didn't like him. Didn't like his presence, his efforts to connect with him, nothing. He'd merely tolerated his presence when he was first brought into the house, most likely due to the fact that he hadn't been fully in his right mind for the first few hours after he had awakened. Now that he was more aware of his surroundings, for the most part, he'd gained more of an idea of what he saw as more of a threat and who exactly had the bigger potential to hurt him.

He assumed that he should've expected this from the start. It was he and his job that had tortured the boy in the name of science. It was him who he'd met after he'd been locked up and thrown into unsatisfactory conditions. It was he who constantly invaded the boy's personal space in order to treat his wounds and make sure that he was all right. No doubt, beyond the memories that were dug up due to the coat he had so much pride in, he stood as one of the boy's physical reminders of where he had been, and the brief terrors he had been exposed to within the labs, the true extent of which Andvari had yet to comprehend. He'd only witnessed one experimental session; who knows what else his coworkers had done in his absence?

He now found himself in a familiar location: his and Martha's bathroom, located in their bedroom. Andvari stared at himself in the mirror, wide blue eyes somewhat shaking as he found himself breaking down in front of an audience of only himself.

He'd never had the capacity to care before. For some unknown, undiagnosed reason, when it came to just anybody, he couldn't form feelings, or emotions, for anyone he came into contact with. He couldn't care less for those around him, fellow humans, fellow researchers, nothing. Whenever he interacted with others, a dull feeling overwhelmed his senses, and despite how cheerful and expressive others were with him, he couldn't find the capacity to return the favor. He didn't typically even know how to do so.

His exceptions were few. Martha was one of the only individuals who had ever broken through his emotional barriers. Martha made his heart really feel.

This boy made his heart hurt.

If the boy's responses toward him amounted to anything, led to any sort of clues whatsoever that indicated what had truly happened to the boy before he came into his care, he'd like to take a guess and say that whatever the other researchers did to him while he wasn't present, it was soul-crushing. It was hell on earth, or, divines forbid, even worse. Whatever could've happened even before then was harder to pinpoint, but he didn't have much confidence in the idea that it was anything even remotely better.

How a child's eyes could be so expressive, yet so hollow, was utterly shocking to him. How the boy could stand being near him and Martha was one thing; how he wasn't crying every second of the day was another. He was broken, but he was strong. Whether it was because he wanted to be, or because he had to be was currently something he didn't want to think about, but nevertheless, Andvari let out a sigh as he collected himself, soon after leaving the bathroom in order to walk himself into the room where the boy was currently residing in. There, he found him wide awake.

He knew that he shouldn't exactly be surprised about the fact that the boy was well-awake at this hour. That sleep schedule of his was utterly abysmal, and he was stubborn enough to fight against their insistence on fixing it. He was more surprised at the fact that the other was standing in the middle of the room, staring at where he was in a manner that sent a brief chill down his spine. His eyes brought him more discomfort than anything else; he knew that silver was a color, sure, but the lack of utter vibrancy in the child's gaze gave him more reason to believe in the possibility that the other wasn't entirely human than all the tests and reports in the world ever could. Even if he had been human at one point, he wasn't human anymore.

It took him a while to break his gaze away and find his words, but once he did, he cleared his throat before actually speaking.

"...How long have you been standing there? Seconds? Minutes? Did you just get up?" He asked cautiously, keeping his voice rather quiet as he spoke.

Absence of sound. Not even the boy's breathing could be heard as he waited for a response. Was that something that had been learned? A technique that had been needed for the purpose of his continued existence?

A small sigh escaped his lips as he stepped further into the room, causing the boy to take a wary step backward. Andvari paused entirely upon looking at his movements, feeling his body grow tense as he tried to think about how to proceed. The boy was unsteady, appearing as if he'd fall over if he so much as breathed next to him. He wanted to get closer in order to not have to speak any louder, sure, but the boy wouldn't exactly let him do that, if his wary gaze said as much. After much deliberation, Andvari stepped backward, placing himself in the middle of the doorway. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, Andvari carefully leaned against the doorframe.

"...Were you about to head to the living room? The kitchen?"

Andvari could practically feel the boy's heart drop entirely into his stomach as pure fear became well-apparent in his eyes. His body tensed, and Andvari felt nothing but regret as he wished that he could've heard himself before actually speaking. Accusatory tones were not helpful in this situation, even if his wasn't intentional on his part.

Bringing up a palm momentarily to drag it down his own face in his own exhaustion with himself, Andvari gave the other as kind of an expression as he could possibly offer.

"...It's fine if you roam the house, you know. Outside of just leaving the room to get a snack, I mean. As long as you don't walk out the front door, it's no problem. Is that what you wanted to do?"

The boy stared up at him with those same wide eyes for a few short moments before nodding his head. As long as he got an answer somehow, Andvari didn't mind that the boy refused to be verbal.

"...Just be careful when you do start walking around the place. I…I personally think that you should stay in bed for at least another couple of days, though. You're not exactly giving me much confidence when you stand like that, little one."

The boy looked down at his own shaky legs before looking back at the man before him with something in his eyes that finally broke past his previous expression.

Embarrassment. Shame. Andvari found himself somewhat regretting mentioning the other's condition, yet also somewhat amused by the boy's silent response.

Crouching down in order to meet the other's gaze, Andvari smiled at him warmly.

"We'll see how your legs are doing in a bit. Right now, it's better if you sit back down and let me…uh…wait, what are you…?"

Andvari's words trailed off in confusion as the boy continued walking backward, all the way until he fell back upon the bed he'd been resting in, becoming a bit startled by the sudden contact. Not too long after, he settled himself, watching the man before him with his hands in his lap.

Andvari couldn't tell what the boy was thinking at this moment. If he was fearful, it would've been more apparent in his gaze, but right now, the boy was emotionless. Was he waiting for something? Did he believe it was time for his bandages to get changed? Food to be served?

Silently frustrated with the fact that he didn't know what to expect, yet he also couldn't get a verbal answer from the other, Andvari let out a small sigh as his voice became somewhat exasperated.

"...I'm not a psychic. I don't know what that look means."

The boy continued to stare at him. Andvari grew slightly more upset at the continued lack of response. However, despite his emotions, he slowly came to understand. Hopefully.

He understood why silence was all that he'd earned at this point in time.

"...I'm sorry I can't read you all too clearly. I'll get better at this, I promise."

Brief surprise appeared in the boy's eyes as Andvari's words reached his ears.

"I…I don't exactly get all that much practice with these kinds of things, believe it or not. I…it's a bit hard. I know you don't want to speak to me, but you can understand me, nevertheless. I'm only going by ear here, and I…"

The boy appeared rather lost in his words. A bit fearful too as the pace of his message quickened the more he spoke.

Slower. Less alarming. He'd have to remember how the boy hated his presence, and he'd have to learn how to deal with it, for the time being. Once the boy was healed, he'd be reunited with his actual parents, he wouldn't have to tolerate their interactions any longer, and that would be that.

"...Did I ever tell you how sorry I was? For not…well, for not getting to you sooner? For everything that happened? Down there? Have I?"

The boy continued to stare at him.

Andvari let out another sigh, hanging his head.

"...I'm sorry, little one." He thought to himself before continuing, meeting the other's gaze fully. "...I'm sorry I can't make you feel comfortable. I'm…I'm gonna try to give you your space. Have Martha watch over you more since we're not exactly hitting it off here. If it's alright with you, I…can I have a specific day when I'm allowed to come in here? Not exactly on the same day I was coming here, not Wednesday, but…something-"

His words were cut off as the boy shook his head eagerly, somewhat surprising Andvari as it seemed like his mood had shifted entirely from fear.

"...Then, would you prefer me not to come here at all?"

The boy shook his head again. Andvari found himself even more confused than before.

What was the boy asking for, exactly?

"...Do…do you want me to keep coming in here like normal? Is that-"

The boy nodded his head.

Andvari found himself beyond confused now.

"...W…Why? I thought you…"

The boy looked down somewhat sheepishly, unable to meet his gaze strongly as he went to stare at his now-bandaged hands.

Maybe he was feeling bad about reacting poorly to someone who had taken the time to dress his wounds. Maybe he was scared that he'd inflict on him something worse. Whatever the case was, Andvari simply waited for the boy to look back up, wanting to look him directly in the eyes as they continued to speak together without many words. After a couple of minutes of silence, the boy finally looked up once again. Immediately, Andvari noticed something new in his expression.

Apologetic eyes wavered as he met them.

Did he know how badly he wished to connect with him? Was he sorry that he wasn't entirely open to letting him do so?

Moving away from the doorway, Andvari took a couple of steps into the room, remembering to do so quietly and in a non-threatening manner.

"...If what I'm seeing is correct…little one, don't feel sorry."

Surprise immediately came to the boy's expression. Andvari continued.

"You've been through a lot, and no one expects you heal so quickly. I don't expect you to make room for me, and I don't want you to. I don't want you to force yourself to accept me and what I'm trying to do for you until you actually feel comfortable with me doing so in the first place. I know how scared you are of me. I know how scary this all is for you. I know how difficult it is to want to feel, to want the ability to trust freely, but until that feeling actually comes…don't feel sorry for being unable to just let it happen."

Those silver, shaky eyes continued to look at him in shock, now holding hard-fought tears. No movement was made in between the two, though Andvari knew well enough that the boy wasn't even considering standing up again while he was still there.

"...I'll keep checking up on you, but you are under no obligation to like me until you actually feel like doing so. Don't force yourself until you heal." Inside and out is what he wanted to add on, but Andvari kept his assurance short.

If anything, the boy desperately needed someone to trust, even if only just barely. Though he wanted that person to be him, he knew well enough that, given what the boy had been through and how he'd been a direct part of it, he was in no way whatsoever even remotely worthy. He'd thought that he managed to make some headway into getting the boy to trust him when he eased his fears after their plate had been shattered. Hadn't that been enough to convince the other that he had no malice to direct to him? Hadn't that convinced him that he wouldn't become furious with him, no matter what?

Was wearing the lab coat all it took to set back his progress so abruptly?

Had raising his voice been all it took to turn that budding sense of trust into a wilted attempt?

Was acting too friendly, too soon, all it took to go back to square one?

What did that imply about the child's current mental state? What did that imply about the life he had before now and how it played out? How carefully should he tread with the other? Who had hurt him? What had hurt him?

If this was how he reacted to simple contact, then surely speaking, it had to have been some sort of monster that taught him how to fear.

He hadn't even realized that he'd lost himself within his own thoughts until the sound of shifting fabric and feet upon hardwood flooring caught Andvari's attention, and before he could turn back to tell the boy that everything was alright, that he should stay in bed and let him get whatever he needed, the sound went past him, and past the doorway. Turning to look at the boy as he left, Andvari was met with a gaze of expectation as he stopped walking, seemingly waiting.

Did he want him to follow him into the kitchen, or the living room? Was he asking him to guide him along his way?

Confused, though determined to discover the meaning of the boy's expression, Andvari walked forward after the other, allowing him to take him elsewhere. They stopped in the kitchen, where the boy simply, weakly, pointed up at their fridge with a somewhat pleading expression.

Food. Please.

A small smile found its way onto Andvari's face, one that he'd been unsure that he'd ever be able to create not so long ago. He might've imagined the other's proper manners, sure, but it still warmed his heart regardless.

"...What would you like to eat, then? Something light?"

A few moments of silence followed his question before the boy nodded.

Andvari gave him a small nod in return.

"...Alright. I'll get you something. Thank you for telling me."

He wasn't so good at reading the boy's emotions now, but, slowly but surely, he knew that he'd improve.

He had to. He just had to.


He had tripped over the edge of his cape, a prototype that had been too long for his short frame, too heavy for his comfort as it cradled his body awkwardly.

He had been shouted at for this, taking the blame immediately. Of course, it had been his fault that he hadn't been measured properly, that their seamstress had been going off of measurements that had been taken a mere five months ago when there was still ample flesh on his body. When the skin that held his insides so tightly didn't seem at all ready to break as his bones began to protrude out in weird, unsettling ways.

He had tripped over what seemed to be merely air, scraping his knee upon the uneven ground that had awaited his arrival below him. He had been walking toward a tree and had been utterly careless; a divine child ran into him unexpectedly, and he had abruptly become a cushion for the other against his will, taking the injury in his stead.

He had been furiously yelled at for this as well. The way he bled seemed unending; him being injured meant that the reputation of the monarch that ruled over him was actively being threatened as the man sat at a table of six, looking upon him with such deep-set hatred that it made his heart sink like a rock. He couldn't cry, for that would make the man even angrier, make him seem unkind to the people who looked at him in expectation of what he'd do in response to the sight of the injured child before him.

"I don't have any bandages on me, you'll have to go to the medic, dear." (Take care of it yourself, I can't be bothered with this nonsense right now.)

Words spoken with such a sweet, uncharacteristically loving tone prompted him to respond with a quick bow as his heart sunk lower into his body. His unspoken fears were answered that night; the man gave him more wounds that caused even more bleeding than what the simple scrape had produced.

His legs were unsteady. They'd always been unsteady. They grew even more unsteady as his body got thinner, as the fear that existed within his veins grew stronger. He was prone to wounds, prone to getting hurt, and his legs always tended to experience the worst of it all. He could barely stand on his own two feet, but he had to. Had to try and push past his weakness for the sake of his own safety. Had to pretend that it wasn't getting harder and harder to justify why he had to get back up, and why he couldn't simply just stay down.

His legs took him wherever he wanted to go. Wherever he didn't want to go, as well. They struggled immensely, but he knew that he was simply running on borrowed time. One day, they would refuse his wishes, and that would be that, but until then, he needed them to help with continuing the facade; the lie that he wasn't as broken of a body as he truly was.

There was only one situation in which the weakness in his bones seemed to evaporate, however.

He'd never seen someone stand so tall in his life.

His legs were weak, but for him, he'd force them to be strong.

As much as he'd love to trip and fall and stay flat against the ground, for him, he'd force some strength within his legs as much as he could, to reassure him that he was alright. That he, despite his appearance saying otherwise, was capable enough of someday, somehow, becoming as strong as him.

If he could survive his weakness now, there was a possibility that his strength would come to him in the near future. And if he was strong enough, strong like him, then maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to earn his right to live alongside them all. If he was strong enough, then maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't break so easily underneath the weight of their harsh gazes.

If he was strong enough, then maybe, just maybe, a single attack from the hands of the king wouldn't nearly kill him.


Sorry for the long hiatus on this fic y'all, most of my focus went elsewhere and I got pretty busy lol. On top of that, writer's block hit me like a line of trucks on the freeway, and I had trouble getting out of it lmao. I never intended to halt this fic for so damn long, but that's something I can't really apologize enough for. At first, I had the next two chapters in an unfinished (but mostly organized) state, but then I put more of my focus on Understanding, so that took up most of my time, then I just had both Chapter 5 and 6 sitting in the backlog for a while. Not only that, but I initially had to rewrite Ch.5, bc I was having trouble with deciding which scenes would come first and all. This would all be solved if I'd written out this rewrite beforehand, but my excitement gets the better of me most of the time, lol. I'm not going to post the original version of this fic given how old it is (and how drastically my writing abilities have improved since I first wrote that version), so I really want to take the time to work on this fic to make it the best version it can be! Writing takes forever, but it's something I love doing!

Aside from that, I'm trying to focus more on making my writing more concise! In all honesty, during the time period I had initially started writing this fic and Understanding in, I was keeping myself away from other fics apart from my own for the sake of focus. Recently, I've started reading more again (fics in another fandom mainly lol), and came to the realization that I can definitely work on my conciseness! I've read a lot of fics where so much was said in so little words, so I want to work on my skills in that area!

Anyways, see you in a bit! I'm gonna stop promising a consistent update schedule and just hope and pray for the best, lmao