A new dawn, a new morning.
The pain was still there, of course. While it had ebbed away slightly, it had lots none of its insistence -- a painful throb in every part of him. So that hadn't changed. Nor had HE changed -- the one singular steady rock in a crazy world.
Once more finding himself in this room. This strange room, that offered so little to him. The walls were blank, and while the bed was comfortable, he wanted more. His mind was curious, ready to go.
Curious about what?
There was a reason he was in here. The blows to his body and his head had stumbled him for now...lessened his abilities for the moment. This would heal, it always healed. But for now he had to deal with a slight handicap, his body affected by pain and healing and able to give less to his brain functions.
It took a moment to remember, but he did.
And suddenly, he wondered if he hadn't changed as well.
This boy.... Andrew. What did he want from Bean? For the first time in his life, Bean was curious about someone for no reason relevant to his life. Not finding out would not harm him. Not finding out would not starve him, would not make his life in grave danger...
But he desperately wanted to find out anyway.
This had never happened before.
Why was he even sure that the boy had wanted something? Maybe this Andrew was just...curious about what the family had brought home. This was possible, but something in his body language...in the way Andrew had acted.... made Bean think that he'd wanted something more.
Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.
Because the facts still stood as previously stated. Bean was curious himself. And, at least for a bit, he had an aim to live -- even if it was a rather...flimsy reason.
This kid intrigued him.
And Bean was determined to find out more....
===========
Sometimes Peter had a high opinion of his parents. Sure, they could be idiots. But sometimes, just sometimes they would do something to surprise him...whether it was make a sudden smart decision, or just something out of character.
This wasn't one of those times.
As a matter of fact, his opinion of them was almost beating the all time low.
They were good parents, but that didn't mean they were all that perceptive. Peter prided himself in having an ability they obviously didn't -- not letting feelings for somebody cloud being able to see what they really are.
He turned his fork in the dinner his mother had made -- spaghetti, today -- and slowly wound the noodles around his fork as he glanced at his parents.
/They sit there, just fucking clueless. They don't have any clue what their youngest is up to... Sometimes I wonder, really I do./
They had a blindspot when it came to two of their children. Ender and Valentine? They could do whatever the hell they wanted, and the Wiggin parents wouldn't notice unless it was something really big. Because it took that to smack them over the head and go 'Look what your children are doing!'
Valentine didn't usually do things, which made Peter's job easier. But Andrew...
Andrew was always up to something.
It was obvious that Andrew was up to something again. He did this so often. And Andrew's plans almost always backfired....
Sometimes Peter really hated that little kid. Whenever he did something wrong, it was Peter who had to clean up the damage. To take the blame. Their parent's blindspot hadn't existed for Peter for so long... but had reversed. Now they saw everything he did, and everything he didn't.
All just so their little perfect image would stay intact.
He didn't even know why he did it. _His_ image in his parent's eyes needed all the help it could get -- and covering up for Andrew's little schemes didn't do anything good for it. Even though he'd been so good lately. He knew his mother was afraid of him, because of what had happened, what'd he'd done... And he couldn't fix it. It could never be fixed. It was all he could do to try to fix _himself_, to refuse to take the medication they tried to make him take, to dump it when they weren't looking... .to deal with the crackpot doctor and still try to ignore the urges he got that had NO way to channel out that had no way to deal with and just try not to STRANGLE someone sometim--
Peter realized he had the fork in a deathgrip, and he forced his fingers to loosen. Staring down at the plate, he ate the abandoned bite of spaghetti.
Maybe he did it because he had as much as a softspot for the kid as his parents did.... It was a disgusting thought, but probably true.
"What did you do today, Peter?" Shocked out of his thoughts, Peter looked up at his mother, inwardly wincing. /She saw that little display...I've got to be less weak, and hide it more./
"Nothing, Mother." /As if you'd let me. I tried all fucking day to get in to see the kid I _saved_... Of course, you let Andrew but not me... You'll never trust me... Not even when I proved myself YET again yesterday by getting that stupid kid away from that other sick little bastard.... 'Look, I found a dead kid!'. Yeah, whatever, kid, poking somebody with a stick isn't exactly impressive on a resume./ "Slept a lot."
"Are you coming down with something?" She looked concerned, and put a hand on his forehead. It took all his strength to keep from recoiling.
"I'm _fine_." He didn't mean to, but the statement came out a bit too snappish, a bit too...angry. That was always the problem. He knew what would happen now, and he could cue it to the exact second. 2 seconds. 1, 2. There. His mother removed her hand, and looked a bit hurt. 1, 2. She hid the look, glanced at his father, and looked down at her hands. Folded them. 1, 2. His father gave him the _look_, then hid it as well. 1, 2. The guilt over something he couldn't control built up, untill he had to dig his fingers into his leg to keep from showing it. He got a lot of bruises from this.
1, 2.
\What a picture perfect family.
Dammit.\
====
Dinner was finally over, and Andrew was glad of it.
Family gatherings were painful. They had always been like that, and would always be like that. It was always because of stress. Whether it was the stress of never staying in one place, or the stress of trying to get yet another psychiatrist to understand Peter, or the stress of his parents trying to find quick jobs and finding graveyard jobs that they were so much smarter than....
Everyone was tired.
It was his fault. He knew it.
But the point of something being your fault is you should fix it, right? He could apply simply logic to this. He'd first figured out 2 years ago that if he left, his family would be OK. He caused the problem by being born. So he could fix it by going.
But Peter always managed to stop him. Not even Peter knew _why_ Andrew made schemes, but he still stopped him.
Peter wasn't going to stop this one, and it was time to start before Peter clued in that he was up to something again.
He took a deep breath to gather courage, and smiled at his father."Daddy?"
His father looked down at him, smiling back. His father really did love his son...Andrew knew that. But he also knew that they'd get over him leaving quick enough. Because they'd be able to stay in one place. They'd be happy....
"Can I go to bed early?"
This triggered another wave of worries in his mother, a lot like the one directed at Peter during dinner. She glanced at him, and hesitated before asking if he felt ok. Peter's displays of anger used to be so bad, that even the little ones that came now hurt his mother badly. Made her almost afraid of her every move.
That was Andrew's fault, too.
He made sure to be quick with an answer when his mother's concerns were voiced. "I'm fine! I just couldn't get to sleep last night... And I want to be all ready for studies tomorrow!" He inserted as much perk as he could into this statement, an attempt to satisfy his mother enough that she wouldn't check on him. If she did, everything would be _ruined_.
He had a lot to ask of Bean, and it'd require a lot of explaination.
And that required time.
If his mother was worried enough about him, she'd ask Valentine to keep an eye on him...or worse, stay home from her job and take care of him. There'd be no way to sneak into Bean's room then. It wasn't as if he could insert himself into an airduct and get into the room that way.... it had to be done carefully.
"I'm really OK, Mommy." He smiled at her, giving his best 'I'm so adorable please believe me I'd never lie' look.
It almost never failed, and this was no exception. She fussed over him a bit more, then reluctantly let him go.
Andrew left the room as quick as he could..... missing the suspicious look Peter gave his way. If he'd seen it, he would have halted his plans and kept them for another night.
But he hadn't seen it, and he didn't know that he was about to get himself into a hell of a lot of trouble...
He retreated to his room for a safe amount of time. Got himself ready for bed. Put on his favourite pajamas, and pretended to doze for awhile. His mother checked on him once before she left, and he waited untill about 10 minutes after he was sure they had left before he got up and crept to the door.
He opened the door a little, and listened.
Waited.
Nothing... Val and Peter were either in bed or wouldn't be able to hear him. He pushed open the door enough to be able to slip out, and snuck down the hallway towards the room where Bean was.
He put his hand on the door, and braced himself for the move that would change his life.
And turned the knob.
=======
Annddd......... New part soon!!!
Sorry this one took so long. I got blocked. But it's broken.
:)
Thank you to everyone for your nice reviews.... they were my motivation for breaking my block on this story. I hope you enjoyed this part!!!!
:)
=======
The pain was still there, of course. While it had ebbed away slightly, it had lots none of its insistence -- a painful throb in every part of him. So that hadn't changed. Nor had HE changed -- the one singular steady rock in a crazy world.
Once more finding himself in this room. This strange room, that offered so little to him. The walls were blank, and while the bed was comfortable, he wanted more. His mind was curious, ready to go.
Curious about what?
There was a reason he was in here. The blows to his body and his head had stumbled him for now...lessened his abilities for the moment. This would heal, it always healed. But for now he had to deal with a slight handicap, his body affected by pain and healing and able to give less to his brain functions.
It took a moment to remember, but he did.
And suddenly, he wondered if he hadn't changed as well.
This boy.... Andrew. What did he want from Bean? For the first time in his life, Bean was curious about someone for no reason relevant to his life. Not finding out would not harm him. Not finding out would not starve him, would not make his life in grave danger...
But he desperately wanted to find out anyway.
This had never happened before.
Why was he even sure that the boy had wanted something? Maybe this Andrew was just...curious about what the family had brought home. This was possible, but something in his body language...in the way Andrew had acted.... made Bean think that he'd wanted something more.
Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.
Because the facts still stood as previously stated. Bean was curious himself. And, at least for a bit, he had an aim to live -- even if it was a rather...flimsy reason.
This kid intrigued him.
And Bean was determined to find out more....
===========
Sometimes Peter had a high opinion of his parents. Sure, they could be idiots. But sometimes, just sometimes they would do something to surprise him...whether it was make a sudden smart decision, or just something out of character.
This wasn't one of those times.
As a matter of fact, his opinion of them was almost beating the all time low.
They were good parents, but that didn't mean they were all that perceptive. Peter prided himself in having an ability they obviously didn't -- not letting feelings for somebody cloud being able to see what they really are.
He turned his fork in the dinner his mother had made -- spaghetti, today -- and slowly wound the noodles around his fork as he glanced at his parents.
/They sit there, just fucking clueless. They don't have any clue what their youngest is up to... Sometimes I wonder, really I do./
They had a blindspot when it came to two of their children. Ender and Valentine? They could do whatever the hell they wanted, and the Wiggin parents wouldn't notice unless it was something really big. Because it took that to smack them over the head and go 'Look what your children are doing!'
Valentine didn't usually do things, which made Peter's job easier. But Andrew...
Andrew was always up to something.
It was obvious that Andrew was up to something again. He did this so often. And Andrew's plans almost always backfired....
Sometimes Peter really hated that little kid. Whenever he did something wrong, it was Peter who had to clean up the damage. To take the blame. Their parent's blindspot hadn't existed for Peter for so long... but had reversed. Now they saw everything he did, and everything he didn't.
All just so their little perfect image would stay intact.
He didn't even know why he did it. _His_ image in his parent's eyes needed all the help it could get -- and covering up for Andrew's little schemes didn't do anything good for it. Even though he'd been so good lately. He knew his mother was afraid of him, because of what had happened, what'd he'd done... And he couldn't fix it. It could never be fixed. It was all he could do to try to fix _himself_, to refuse to take the medication they tried to make him take, to dump it when they weren't looking... .to deal with the crackpot doctor and still try to ignore the urges he got that had NO way to channel out that had no way to deal with and just try not to STRANGLE someone sometim--
Peter realized he had the fork in a deathgrip, and he forced his fingers to loosen. Staring down at the plate, he ate the abandoned bite of spaghetti.
Maybe he did it because he had as much as a softspot for the kid as his parents did.... It was a disgusting thought, but probably true.
"What did you do today, Peter?" Shocked out of his thoughts, Peter looked up at his mother, inwardly wincing. /She saw that little display...I've got to be less weak, and hide it more./
"Nothing, Mother." /As if you'd let me. I tried all fucking day to get in to see the kid I _saved_... Of course, you let Andrew but not me... You'll never trust me... Not even when I proved myself YET again yesterday by getting that stupid kid away from that other sick little bastard.... 'Look, I found a dead kid!'. Yeah, whatever, kid, poking somebody with a stick isn't exactly impressive on a resume./ "Slept a lot."
"Are you coming down with something?" She looked concerned, and put a hand on his forehead. It took all his strength to keep from recoiling.
"I'm _fine_." He didn't mean to, but the statement came out a bit too snappish, a bit too...angry. That was always the problem. He knew what would happen now, and he could cue it to the exact second. 2 seconds. 1, 2. There. His mother removed her hand, and looked a bit hurt. 1, 2. She hid the look, glanced at his father, and looked down at her hands. Folded them. 1, 2. His father gave him the _look_, then hid it as well. 1, 2. The guilt over something he couldn't control built up, untill he had to dig his fingers into his leg to keep from showing it. He got a lot of bruises from this.
1, 2.
\What a picture perfect family.
Dammit.\
====
Dinner was finally over, and Andrew was glad of it.
Family gatherings were painful. They had always been like that, and would always be like that. It was always because of stress. Whether it was the stress of never staying in one place, or the stress of trying to get yet another psychiatrist to understand Peter, or the stress of his parents trying to find quick jobs and finding graveyard jobs that they were so much smarter than....
Everyone was tired.
It was his fault. He knew it.
But the point of something being your fault is you should fix it, right? He could apply simply logic to this. He'd first figured out 2 years ago that if he left, his family would be OK. He caused the problem by being born. So he could fix it by going.
But Peter always managed to stop him. Not even Peter knew _why_ Andrew made schemes, but he still stopped him.
Peter wasn't going to stop this one, and it was time to start before Peter clued in that he was up to something again.
He took a deep breath to gather courage, and smiled at his father."Daddy?"
His father looked down at him, smiling back. His father really did love his son...Andrew knew that. But he also knew that they'd get over him leaving quick enough. Because they'd be able to stay in one place. They'd be happy....
"Can I go to bed early?"
This triggered another wave of worries in his mother, a lot like the one directed at Peter during dinner. She glanced at him, and hesitated before asking if he felt ok. Peter's displays of anger used to be so bad, that even the little ones that came now hurt his mother badly. Made her almost afraid of her every move.
That was Andrew's fault, too.
He made sure to be quick with an answer when his mother's concerns were voiced. "I'm fine! I just couldn't get to sleep last night... And I want to be all ready for studies tomorrow!" He inserted as much perk as he could into this statement, an attempt to satisfy his mother enough that she wouldn't check on him. If she did, everything would be _ruined_.
He had a lot to ask of Bean, and it'd require a lot of explaination.
And that required time.
If his mother was worried enough about him, she'd ask Valentine to keep an eye on him...or worse, stay home from her job and take care of him. There'd be no way to sneak into Bean's room then. It wasn't as if he could insert himself into an airduct and get into the room that way.... it had to be done carefully.
"I'm really OK, Mommy." He smiled at her, giving his best 'I'm so adorable please believe me I'd never lie' look.
It almost never failed, and this was no exception. She fussed over him a bit more, then reluctantly let him go.
Andrew left the room as quick as he could..... missing the suspicious look Peter gave his way. If he'd seen it, he would have halted his plans and kept them for another night.
But he hadn't seen it, and he didn't know that he was about to get himself into a hell of a lot of trouble...
He retreated to his room for a safe amount of time. Got himself ready for bed. Put on his favourite pajamas, and pretended to doze for awhile. His mother checked on him once before she left, and he waited untill about 10 minutes after he was sure they had left before he got up and crept to the door.
He opened the door a little, and listened.
Waited.
Nothing... Val and Peter were either in bed or wouldn't be able to hear him. He pushed open the door enough to be able to slip out, and snuck down the hallway towards the room where Bean was.
He put his hand on the door, and braced himself for the move that would change his life.
And turned the knob.
=======
Annddd......... New part soon!!!
Sorry this one took so long. I got blocked. But it's broken.
:)
Thank you to everyone for your nice reviews.... they were my motivation for breaking my block on this story. I hope you enjoyed this part!!!!
:)
=======