A/N: Here you go, as the canon begins to take over from my interesting beginnings. Enjoy! And please review
Chosen to Rise; Destined to Fall
Part One: The Awakening
Chapter Six
- Fall Changes -
The next few months would bring about several changes that would influence Tom's future, even if he didn't realize it at those moments. Perhaps, if these events did not occur, then Tom would have turned out very different, or, he might not have changed. However, fate has a nasty way of doing what it wants, no matter how much one could try to get around it.
As the war continued on the mainland, more and more orphans were bringing brought to the orphanages. Even Stockwell Orphanage, once a boys orphanage, now housed several girls. Tom had settled into the daily routine and though Mrs. Everenst was strict, he paid her no heed. In the public eye, he seemingly followed the rules, but that didn't mean he wasn't pulling pranks in the background with Vincent. Thankfully, Vincent had been brought to the orphanage after staying in the hospital. He recovered fully and was mostly back to his usual self, however, there seemed to be something different that Tom couldn't quite place.
August came with heavy rains and cooler temperatures. The leaves on the trees had turned dazzling shades of red, yellow, and brown, covering the country-side in a fall rainbow. It was very beautiful and Tom stayed outside as much as he could. Joseph was as ill-tempered as always, Henry took care of Shawn, and Vincent and Tom remained inseparable.
On a particularly cold afternoon, Tom was sitting outside beneath a tree, a book propped up against his upraised knees. A group of boys, including Robbie and one of his friends, Billy Stubbs, were gathered around an old, metal swing-set. The metal joints creaked in the light, crisp wind and several leaves fell through the air, landing on the grass-covered ground. Tom flipped a page in his book, however he wasn't paying attention. Instead, he was listening to the group of boys.
" – would get in so much trouble," Robbie was snickering.
"Do you think we could pull it off?" asked Billy.
"It'd be easy. Shawn's such a mouse. Seems a bit daft if you ask me. He'd do it."
Tom's gaze narrowed as he heard Shawn's name mentioned. If he thinks he can try anything, he'll be in for a nasty surprise.
"What about Louise?" asked another. "Shawn is always around her and you know she won't let us get away with anything."
Robbie sneered. "She won't be around much longer to worry about it." Their voices lowered and Tom strained to hear what they were saying. Finally, he stood, tucking his book under his arm and walked briskly towards the backdoor.
"Oh look at who it is," said Robbie, still sneering. "Riddle, perfect boy who likes sneaking around. All those biscuits you're always hiding away and your little toys, my mum won't like that."
Tom stopped, turning to look at Robbie. He gaze was level and cold, a look he had found that worked for him when he didn't want anyone to know what he felt inside. "Try and prove it."
Robbie just smirked, crossing his beefy arms over his chest. Billy, who was the complete opposite of Robbie in looks, was smirking next to him. In his arms was his tan rabbit that he always carried around. "That's not that hard to do," said Billy.
"Oh really? I thought that you'd have to have a brain first." Tom turned, heading back towards the backdoor. Robbie moved quickly to intercept him. "Get out of my way."
"No." Robbie threw a punch, which landed hard with the side of Tom's face.
He hit the ground, his head banging into the cold earth, sending waves of pain crashing through his head. He blinked black spots out of his eyes and wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. "You'll regret that," he said, his voice low.
Robbie and his friends just laughed. Tom stood, his gaze dangerous, and something flickered in Robbie's gaze. It could have been a flash of fear but at this moment, Tom was only focused on getting back at Robbie. "I warned you," he said.
At that moment, Shawn came running outside, skidding to a stop upon seeing Tom facing the orphanage bullies. His eyes went wide but he didn't speak. Tom and Louise were the only two that Shawn spoke around anymore. Robbie glanced over and snapped, "Scat, mouse." Shawn let out a squeak and went to run, but tripped over the laces of his trainers. He fell to the ground with a crash, which evoked laughter from Robbie and his friends. The tallest of the gang, Michael, walked over and picked up Shawn by the front of his shirt. "Aw, look, he's scared," sneered Michael.
"Leave him alone," snapped Tom.
The boys turned their gazes towards him. "Or what?" taunted Billy.
Tom didn't really know what would happen or what he could do, but he wasn't about to let the gang know that. "You'll be hurt," was all he said.
"And you think you can do that?" snickered Michael. Suddenly he let out a scream of pain, dropping Shawn quickly. Covering his arms were thick, red welts, as if he had just been burned. Robbie and the others stared, looked at Tom, looked back at the welts, obvious confusion and a bit of fight in their gazes.
"Let's get out of here," said Robbie, glancing once at Tom, at Shawn, and then moving away quickly, taking Michael inside.
Tom bent down, picking up his book that had fallen to the ground, and walked over to Shawn. "Are you alright?" He held out a hand to help Shawn to his feet.
"Thanks," said Shawn quietly.
"Weren't you with Henry and Vincent?"
"I was, but well –" Shawn poked the ground with the toe of his trainer, moving around the dirt.
"Let's go inside." Tom put a hand on Shawn's back, leading him inside. They passed by the kitchen, where Louise was bustling about, preparing dinner.
"Oi! Tom!" she called. They turned to see her standing by the stove with a smile on her face. "We're having your favorite soup. Want to test it out?"
Tom looked at Shawn, who nodded eagerly. He smiled slightly and they entered the spotless kitchen. "That's what I'm here for, taste-testing," said Tom.
Louise laughed. "As long as Mrs. Everenst doesn't see, we ain't got anythin' to worry 'bout." She poured a little of the soup into two small mugs, handing them to Tom and Shawn. They accepted them with thanks, taking sips of the hot soup. It was delicious and spicy, running down his throat and Tom savored the flavor.
"Mmm, brilliant." Tom smiled. Louise was one of the few adults that he liked and he knew that without Vincent, Shawn or Louise, this orphanage would have been unbearable.
They finished their soup, putting the mugs in the sink. "Make sure you're on time for dinner," said Louise. "Mrs. Everenst doesn't want anyone to be late."
"Is Mrs. Cole going to be eating with us?" asked Tom.
"Aye. She will. Best behavior."
"Always."
Louise chuckled. "No pranks tonight, Tom."
He gave her an innocent look. "Me? Prank? Never."
This evoked another laugh from Louise. "Yes, yes. Now shoo." She ushered them out and they headed upstairs.
"I like her," said Shawn quietly.
"She's nice. So long as she doesn't tell me what to do," said Tom. They entered their room and Tom walked over to where Vincent was sitting on his bed. "Mrs. Cole is eating dinner with us tonight," he said, taking a seat next to Vincent.
Vincent looked over at Tom and grinned. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"A bit of payback," smirked Tom. "Joseph snitched on my stash of biscuits and he got Shawn blamed for the mess in the foyer the other day." However, even with his planning, his mind was still on what had happened to Michael. How did that happen? I don't understand it. He deserved it, but still…
Vincent nodded. "What do you want to do?"
Tom glanced at Henry, who was kneeling in front of his wardrobe, rifling through the bottom. Shawn had resumed his place of sitting on his bed, hugging his knees to his chest. He looked back at Vincent and smirked as he thought of something. He whispered his plan to Vincent, who nodded, chuckling. "Let's go." He led Vincent out of the room.
That evening, during dinner, Tom and Vincent sat innocently at their usual spots near the end of the long table. Several tables had been set up to accommodate all the children and a head table for Mrs. Cole and Mrs. Everenst. Mrs. Everenst always finished her food quickly so that she could walk along the aisles and make sure no one was fooling around.
Joseph and Robbie entered the dining hall, carrying the plates for Mrs. Cole and Mrs. Everenst. As they set down the plates, their backs were to the rest of the room. Laughter erupted from the children and Tom and Vincent smirked at each other. Sewn to the backs of Joseph and Robbie's jumpers were select undergarments. They were clumsily sown, as Tom nor Vincent knew exactly how to sew, but it suited their purpose.
Mrs. Everenst looked around the room, her gaze narrowed. "What are you laughing about?" she said sharply.
Mrs. Cole, a tall woman with sharp features, but a kinder smile, looked genuinely confused. "What's going on? Tom?"
Tom kept his gaze completely innocent. "I think there's something on their jumpers, Mrs. Cole. I heard them talking about doing something funny at dinner."
Mrs. Everenst stood, moving around the table to glare at the two boys. "Is that true? You decided to have a little fun, did you?"
It took all Tom's efforts to not burst out with laughter. As far as the grownups knew, he was the model boy, never doing anything wrong. However, he knew that beneath their gazes, they didn't know exactly what to make of him.
Vincent was struggling more than Tom and finally had to bend down, pretending to tie his trainers, in an effort to hide his laughter.
Joseph and Robbie, not having any idea of what was on their backs, just stared at Mrs. Everenst blankly. "Mum, I didn't do anything," protested Robbie. His face was beginning to flush with red.
"Mrs. Everenst, we didn't do anything, honest," said Joseph.
"I don't call this nothing," she snapped, turning them roughly to look at each other's backs. "You think this is funny?"
Both of their faces turned beet red and they began stammering. "I – I –"
"Both of you, to the Yellow Room now," she said angrily. "No supper tonight. Go." She grabbed them by their ears and hauled them, still protesting, out of the room. The room was deathly silent as everyone stared after them.
Mrs. Cole just shook her head. "Children, eat your dinner and make sure your room are clean. We'll be doing an inspection later."
There were a few quiet snickers, but everyone ate their dinner in silence, as there were expected to. "That was brilliant!" whispered Amy Benson, who was sitting next to Tom. "I wonder who did it!"
Dennis Bishop, a small, blond-haired boy, who was always being picked in by Robbie, was actually smiling. "I wouldn't want to be him!" he whispered.
Henry and Tom's gazes met and Henry snickered, knowing that Tom had been behind it. "Nice job," he mouthed.
Tom and Vincent merely smirked and ate their dinner.
The next evening, Tom snuck into the kitchen and was about to nick two sandwiches when he heard angry voices from down the far corridor. Deciding to investigate, the sandwiches forgotten, he followed the voices until he could hear them clearly.
" – last straw." Tom recognized it as Mrs. Everenst's voice.
"But ma'am, I didn't do anythin'." That was Louise.
Tom frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. What's going on? What did Louise do?
"Louise, we just can't have that sort of influence around the children," came Mrs. Cole's voice. Tom could tell by the sound of her voice that she was trying to be kind. "They're so impressionable at this age."
"Mrs. Cole, please, I didn't do it! You know I wouldn't!"
"It seems we were very wrong, and the measures have been taken," said Mrs. Evernst coldly. "You were warned before what would happen again if something went missing. Now all the candelabras are gone from the dining room. Collect your things and out you go."
"But I don't have anywhere to go, ma'am!"
"Then you should have thought twice before nicking the tapestries, the two clocks, and now the candelabras. Goodbye, Ms. Riensz."
Louise came bursting out of the room and Tom snapped up against the wall, but she didn't see him. She was sobbing, her face in her hands as she ran down the corridor. But she wouldn't…would she? He made his way back towards his room, not wanting to be caught after lights out. A terrible feeling washed over him as he realized that Louise wasn't coming back. However, as quickly as the feeling of sadness washed over him, it was replaced by a need for revenge. He believed that Louise hadn't stolen anything and he was determined to find out who did and make them pay.
The sound of shattering glass made him jump, spinning around, his heart pounding. The glass of three portraits on the walls had suddenly snapped, littering the carpeted corridor with glittering shards of broken glass. His eyes widened. How…He turned and ran.
It wouldn't be until a fortnight later that Tom would discover who had been stealing the items. Without Louise, the orphanage seemed darker and not has happy as it once had been. A new, older lady, had replaced Louise, and she didn't allow for any taste-testing.
The news spread like wildfire around the orphanage about the thief. Robbie and his friends seemed particularly happy that she was gone and Tom knew that it was because Louise had never let them get away with anything. After the dinner incident, Robbie and Joseph seemed to be on a streak of vengeance, always trying to get Tom framed for anything. It always backfired and more often than not, Joseph got punished.
Tom didn't feel any remorse about that. The slimy gits deserved what they got, in his mind. However, he had other things planned.
The day was warm for September, when two visitors arrived. They were garbed in fancy suits, a man and a woman, and appeared to be very kind. Tom and Vincent were upstairs, plotting their next prank, when Mrs. Cole entered.
"Vincent? Shawn? Come with me please," she said with a small smile.
Vincent and Tom looked at each other, confused. "Mrs. Cole?" asked Vincent. "Did we do something wrong?"
"No, no. Nothing like that. Come along."
Shawn climbed off his bed, where he had been playing with a yo-yo of Tom's. Well, a yo-yo that Tom had taken from Martha Rechins, a girl that had annoyed him one day with that yo-yo. She had followed him around for hours and he had finally had enough. He had taught her a lesson, one that she still hadn't forgotten, and he kept the yo-yo.
Vincent and Shawn followed Mrs. Cole out, glancing back at Tom. Once they left, Tom looked at Henry. "What do you suppose is going on?"
Henry tossed his ratty ball up into the air, catching it. He was leaning against his headrest, one leg tucked under the other. "Why don't you go find out? You're good at that," he smirked.
"I think I just might." Tom stood, slipping out of the room and moving silently downstairs. He heard voices in the sitting room and peeked around the doorframe. Inside, he saw a man and a woman sitting on the couch, their faces kind and their clothes elegant. The woman had light brown hair that hung in loose waves around her angular face. The man had slightly darker hair and a trimmed beard, his eye sparkling.
Tom frowned. They looked familiar…
" – and you're how old, Vincent?" asked the woman with a soft smile.
"Eight, ma'am. I'll be nine in three days."
"A good age!" the man chuckled. "Coming into an important stage in his life, he is."
When the man spoke, something clicked inside Tom's head and he remembered where he had seen the two strangers before. They had been in the hospital, when Sister Mary had taken Tom to see Vincent. But why are they here? he wondered.
"And what about you, son?" asked the man, smiling at Shawn.
Shawn looked at the ground, his cheeks flushed. "He doesn't talk very much, sir," said Vincent. "He lost his parents when he was little and barely survived a fire earlier this summer."
"Oh the poor boy," said the woman, looking horrified.
Tom looked at Vincent and Shawn, who were standing in front of the adults, and then to Mrs. Cole, who was sitting in an armchair beside the strangers.
"Shawn is eight as well," said Mrs. Cole. "He's a sweet boy but very quiet."
"He seems like it," said the woman, smiling.
"Do you live close?" asked Vincent curiously.
The man laughed. "Oh close enough, m'boy."
"Where?"
"Such a curious child."
"Yes, Vincent is known for his curiosity," said Mrs. Cole with a smile. "Mr. McErith, if you'd like to come with me, I just have a few matters to discuss. Your wife is more than welcome to stay with the boys."
"Of course. Love, don't overdo the hugs," Mr. McErith teased.
The woman, his wife, laughed. "I'll try my hardest."
Tom's gaze narrowed. There was something about them and his stomach was twisting up in knots. He slid into the shadows as Mrs. Cole and Mr. McErith walked out of the room, heading for her office. Tom decided to follow, moving silently behind them. He wasn't in the mood to see Vincent and Shawn be coddled by Mrs. McErith.
Tom watched as the adults went into Mrs. Cole's office and he entered the room next to it. The room he was in was a small study, with shelves of books, a worn, oak table, and a dark blue rug. The windows let in the light, revealing a few dust mites in the air. Tom walked over to an overstuffed arm chair and pushed the chair to the side. There was a grate in the wall that connected to Mrs. Cole's office and a place where Tom had found he could listen in. He took a seat behind one of the bookshelves.
"Would you like anything to drink, Mr. McErith?" he heard Mrs. Cole's voice waft through the grate.
"No, I'm fine, thank you."
"Now where did you say you worked?"
"We work for the Ministry. Government officials, that sort."
"Sounds interesting enough. What do you do?"
Mr. McErith chuckled. "Well now, Mrs. Cole, if I told you, it wouldn't be secret now would it."
There was a rustling of papers and a clink of a glass. "No, I suppose not. I see here, on your papers, that you live just outside Great Hangleton. This is a very beautiful place that you have, Mr. McErith."
"Thank you, Mrs. Cole. The manor has been passed down through my family. Now, to the subject of Vincent and Shawn."
"Yes, of course. There would be the necessary paperwork to fill out, if you decide to take them."
"I believe that we both know that my wife and I would love to have both of them. We saw Vincent when he was in the hospital and had spoken with the Sister there. They are wonderful boys and they deserve a good family."
Time seemed to freeze as Tom's heart caught in his chest. His gaze snapped to the grate, feeling a rushing in his ears. He didn't even realize how tightly he was clenching his long fingers into a fist. His nails dug into his skin but it was a dull pain. Family? Have both of them? Surely…
"Well, Mr. McErith. I've spoken with you and your wife on several occasions already, as I know you're looking to adopt. You couldn't have picked two better children then these two. However, Shawn is so withdrawn, are you sure that he is one you would pick?"
"He just needs someone to care for him."
"No! He has me!" snapped Tom and he clapped his hand over his mouth, his heart hammering in his chest.
"Did you hear something?" asked Mr. McErith.
There was a pause and the silence seemed to extend forever. Finally, Mrs. Cole spoke. "This manor is so old; we hear sounds all the time. Pay them no mind. Now, to the paperwork."
"Of course."
Tom sat there, behind the bookshelf, seething. He didn't know how long he was there and didn't remember how he made it back to his room, slamming the door shut.
Tom watched from the window as the car drove away, with the McEriths, and the only two people Tom cared about: Vincent and Shawn. His long fingers gripped the windowsill, his face impassive and cold. Inside, he was furious and hurt, among many other emotions. They had just left. Just like that. They didn't even think about the fact that they were leaving him.
When they had come up to the room, excited, Tom ignored them. Vincent tried to talk to him and he shoved him into the wardrobe before going to his post by the window. Shawn had tried to say something to him, but Tom had ignored him.
A spider crawling across the windowsill by Tom's fingers caught his attention and he glared at it. He watched as it writhed and then curled up into a ball. He turned his gaze to a flock of birds flying across the treetops. A part of him wanted to see them crash into the building. They don't deserve to live. They're free. I'm not. He turned away from the window, not seeing the birds fly to their doom. It wouldn't even register with him that he had just commanded the birds to commit suicide and they had.
He saw Vincent's drawing lying on his bed, something that Vincent had wanted him to keep. He picked it up and then crumpled it into a ball, throwing it in the trash. He had never felt so alone in his life and wanting nothing reminding him of Vincent or Shawn. The pain was incredible and he hated it. It made him feel weak and he felt as if someone would try to use that to their advantage. Well, he wouldn't let them. He didn't need anyone. They all left. His mother had died, his father had never shown up for him, Louise left, and now Vincent and Shawn had gone.
Well, he's show them. He'd make them regret the day that they walked out on him.