Third Chappie I won't bother typing much since i doubt people even read this. Just, if you readers do see this, plase R&R, ti's the least you could do, yeah?
Thanks to Wrath for beta-ing I heart thee muchly
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Simone and Gordon met up at the airport, both twins still groggy from the flight and only half-awake. It wasn't until they stuffed themselves with sugary whipped cream, syrup and strawberries topped with waffles, or rather what was supposed to be waffles with whipped cream, and had sugar running through their veins that they began to comprehend the fact that they were no longer in Germany, but rather, in England. London was crazy! The amount of people in it beat Magdeburg's by hundreds! The two couldn't stop blinking owlishly at every little thing they saw, and, save for the firm grip of their mother's hands on their shoulders, they would have most likely strayed away from the two adults.
Tom was excited beyond belief. Gordon told him that they were going to look at guitars today. Bill didn't share the same interest in the instrument as Tom did, and merely nodded his head in acquiescence to Gordon's statement. Tom rolled his eyes at his twin. He didn't understand why Bill didn't share his interest in guitars. They were twins, so they should be as alike as possible. But Bill didn't like guitars. He said that they were too hard to play. Tom wasn't sure how Billa knew this as the younger had never touched a guitar in his life. Still a little miffed at his twin's obvious disinterest on something he so obviously appreciated, Tom decided to punish his Billa a little by ignoring him for the rest of their trip in the city. Or at least, until they left the music store. Bill didn't seem to notice, which irked Tom more, causing him to be more resolved in his decision and pointedly leaving Bill's side, opting instead the company of Gordon, who was already in front of the rack of impressive acoustic guitars. This left Bill with his mother, Simone, who was already browsing the sections of CDs at the other end of the big store. Bill had no choice but to follow the redheaded woman to where she was heading, failing to realize that his mother was hidden by a rack of drum cymbals near the percussion section of the store, and that he was instead following another redheaded woman out of the store and into the busy streets of London.
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An uncomfortable pain in his back was what woke up the green-eyed youth from his tired sleep. It took him a few moments to realize where he was and to comprehend that he had just spent the night sleeping behind a trash dumpster. Slowly, he stretched himself in an unconsciously feline manner, starting from his legs, and letting the tension out by stretching his arms up and arching his back. Hearing several satisfying pops, he shook his head slightly, trying to get rid of the last remnants of sleep from his consciousness. He came to the conclusion that a dirty pavement was definitely one of the places that one must avoid sleeping on at all costs. Hopefully, with his meagre savings, he would be able to find better lodgings and, after hearing his stomach cry out again, some provisions. He brushed himself off, getting the bits of grime off of his overly large t-shirt, before stepping out into the busy streets of the city once again.
Barely managing not to be knocked over by the numerous hordes of bodies in business suits, athletic wear, and school uniforms, Harry scuffled to the side of the sidewalk with the least amount of people. Repeatedly dodging the leather satchels and synthetic handbags of the mob, the young boy failed to avoid being knocked down by a small body. Landing on the hard pavement with an added weight on top, no matter how slight it was, affected the emerald-eyed boy in more ways than one, and he barely managed to keep in the small whimper of pain that begged to come out of his mouth. Instead, the slight whimpers that came from the body on top of him was the one that captured the attention of the Boy Who Lived.
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Bill had decided to follow his mother, forgetting the fact that when they came into the store, she was wearing a delicate lace blouse instead of the dull lavender halter that the one he was following wore. Bill knew that Tomi wasn't pleased with him. He wouldn't use the word mad to describe the disagreement that they were currently having since even before, the two boys had promised each other that they were never to get mad at one another, and so Bill decided to just wait it out. Even though he loved his twin more than anything in the world, he really couldn't get himself to like the guitar in the same way that Tom did. It looked too complicated for Bill, and it seemed to him that it would fit his brother far more better than if he were to play it. So Bill played along with his brother's wishes and didn't protest when Tom left his side, going instead to Simone, who it seemed, was leaving the store. Bill quickened his steps to catch up to his mother, who was already walking out of the automatic doors. With a small burst of speed, the young four-year-old caught up to his mother, only to be separated from her once again by the sea of people navigating their way through the busy city streets.
Bill was panicking. He tried to follow his mother for the next few minutes, the gleaming red hair acting as a beacon to him. She was so far away! He tried to go back to Tomi, but he couldn't remember what the store looked like and it was impossible to move on his own as he was continuously pushed around by the steady stream of people. Trying hard not to cry out, Bill tried once again to follow his mother, this time, finally able to reach out and grab her pants. Odd. He remembered that she was wearing a skirt today. She even asked him if she looked nice. Barely registering the significance of the thought, Bill immediately called out to her, grabbing onto her leg like a lifeline. "Mommy!"
To say that Reese McDeir was surprised was an understatement. She was already late for a lunch date with her boyfriend, and now a little blonde boy was grabbing onto her leg as if his life depended on it, calling her 'mommy' repeatedly. The boy's eyes were shut, and maybe was the reason that he didn't realize he was grabbing on to a stranger. She gently got a hold on the small arms that were wrapped around her pants-clad leg, and tried to calm the child down.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not your mommy, little boy." Bill opened his eyes at the words, and, to his horror, found them to be the truth, for instead of gazing into warm brown eyes so much like his own, a pair of blue orbs gazed back at him. He let go of the woman as if burned, and ran away, not bothering to know where he was going, the panic that was building up since leaving the music store finally getting to him. He barely saw anything, his tears sufficiently blurring his eyesight, and ultimately, causing him to bump into someone. They landed on the ground with a hard thud, Bill on top of the slight body that seemed smaller than his. He didn't want to open his eyes. He didn't know where he was, he didn't know where his Tomi was, and he had mistaken a stranger for his mother. The tears that were falling came out with more force. Trying to hold in the whimpers that came from his small frame, he clutched unto the strangers' shirt and cried himself silly, barely registering the thin arm that was awkwardly trying to comfort him in vain. There they lay in the middle of the busy streets of London, no one bothering to look at them, everyone continuing on their way to their own personal destinations, as the two children huddled closer to each other.
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Tom was carefully touching the neck of the guitar that Gordon held out to him, a simple acoustic that was constructed of a combination of spruce and mahogany. It was a regular guitar for beginners and had nothing extraordinary about it, but to Tom, it was the most beautiful thing in the world. This of course was due to the fact that this was the guitar that Gordon was going to buy for him. He plucked at each of the individual strings ever so lightly, the sound reverberating softly. His body was shaking with barely contained excitement and the smile that was on Gordon's face grew. He knew, he just knew, that Tom was going to be special. He could relate to the boy's excitement. He hoped that the enthusiasm that was shown now wouldn't wane after only a few weeks, for even though he showed a great amount of interest in the instrument, the fact of the matter was that Tom was still only four years old, and in most cases, their attention span were not the best. He glanced at the small blonde when the slight strumming stopped to see that Tom had gone all rigid. His chocolate eyes were wide and filled with concern, and for a moment, Gordon swore that he was looking at Bill instead of Tom, who was the more innocent-looking of the two, his eyes always wide as saucers, exclaiming loudly at every new thing he encountered; Tom had always been the more reserved of the two, only becoming animated when around his double. Now, Tom sported Bill's expression, only this time, his eyes weren't wide because he learned something new; rather, it was out of fear. Gordon worriedly shook Tom's shoulder slightly to grab his attention.
"Tom? What's the matter? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Gordon tried to say this in a joking manner; a vain attempt to lighten the suddenly tense and sombre atmosphere. Tom suddenly ran to where Simone was, repeatedly calling out for his mother and for Bill. Unsure of what was going on with Tom, Gordon simply followed after the boy, quickening his steps after realizing the genuine panic that Tom was feeling; for what, he was unsure.
Tom ran to Simone, immediately asking the question that was causing him inexplicable worry. "Mommy, where's Billa?" his tone of voice carried a slight ring of fear that immediately captured Simone's attention. She had been browsing the CD racks since the boys went to the string section of the store, immediately assuming that both twins were with Gordon. She had figured that that was the perfect time for them to develop a father-son relationship. The panicked look in Tom's face showed that this was not the case and that it seemed Bill had separated from them. Trying to placate Tom, she proceeded to talk to him in a soothing tone.
"Tom, honey, he's most probably just behind the pianos; you know how he gets when he's bored." A quick glance at the three grand pianos in the side of the room told her that her excuse would not be bought. With this thought also came the revelation that Bill was indeed nowhere to be found! Trying to keep her fear at bay, Simone shared a glance at Gordon, trying to convey the message that there was trouble. Where had Bill gone? Tom had sensed his mother's unease and struggled to get out of her grip.
"Mommy! Billa's missing! I havta find him!" With this, the blonde four year-old ran out of the store.
A cry of panicked disbelief rose from Simone's throat. Without sparing any time, she chased after Tom, hoping to God that she wouldn't lose him in the throng of city people outside. Gordon followed suit, the acoustic guitar propped up against a stool, forgotten by the hands that had caressed it so gently only moments before.
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Bill had stopped crying barely a moment ago. He still had his face pressed unto the shirt of the stranger who had not stopped rubbing circles in his back comfortingly, if not a bit hesitantly. They had moved off of the sidewalk, instead leaning on the back wall of a nearby alley. The whole time that they had taken going to the small alcove, the stranger half dragging, half carrying Bill, who had refused to move from his position of burying his face into the cloth, the stranger tried to comfort him in a language he couldn't understand. The gentle tremors of the boy's voice, for to Bill the stranger sounded like a boy, sought to calm him down, and thankfully, it worked. Usually only his Tomi could help him calm down after a particularly disturbing experience but the stranger, no, the boy was doing a very good job right then.
Harry wasn't sure what to do. He kept trying to calm the boy down, telling him that he'd be alright, that he was safe, and other such things that a person usually said to comfort a person. But it seemed that it didn't really work for him. The blonde boy didn't respond to any of his questions, merely burying his face even deeper into Harry's large shirt, the whole time murmuring, "Tomi, Tomi..." Who or what this 'Tomi' was, Harry didn't know. Since he had never encountered such a word, he assumed that it was a name. After having set themselves into a more quiet and private spot, Harry continued to cradle the crying boy in his arms. This was not an easy task for the boy was the same size, if not somewhat bigger than Harry and, as it was, Harry wasn't accustomed to carrying around such a weight for a prolonged period of time. Not knowing what else to do, Harry began to sing a lullaby in German, one of the songs that the librarian taught him and constantly sang to him in the late afternoon, when they pretended that it was Harry's bed time and time for him to be tucked in. The memory both warmed and pained him. He was unsure if the boy would even understand him, as they were in England, but he decided to trust in the soothing powers of a decent lullaby. Slowly, as not to startle the boy, Harry began to sing in a soft voice. He was unsure of his voice, as it was always the librarian who sang; she of course, had an incredible voice, soft and high pitched. He had sung along once or twice with her, always receiving a delighted clap from her afterwards, telling him he had a lovely voice. He was unsure whether to believe her or not, but right now, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that the boy needed to calm down! And so, Harry continued to sing:
Schlafe, mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein,
es ruhn Schäfchen und Vögelein.
Gärten und Wiesen verstummt,
auch nicht ein Bienchen mehr summt.
Luna mit silbernem Schein
Gucket zum Fenster herein;
schlafe beim silbernen Schein!
Schlafe, mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein!
Schlaf ein, schlaf ein!(1)
Bill raised his head slightly. He knew this song! Their mother sang this to him and Tom every once in a while. He remembered thinking that his mother was truly the most amazing singer in the world whenever she would sing to them, to which she would laugh and kiss him in the cheeks. The boy had a nice voice, it was different than his and Tom's. He was surprised that the boy could speak German since earlier he did not understand a word that came out of his mouth. Without putting much thought into it, Bill spoke up, interrupting the soft rhythm of the song. "You can speak German?"
Harry was surprised. Here he was, trying to sooth the boy, when all of a sudden, he piped up and started speaking to him in German! Well, if this wasn't unexpected! A reply wouldn't really hurt anyone, and so, Harry spoke up as well, his voice more sombre than the blonde's. "Yes, I can."
To say Bill was stunned was an understatement. He recognized this boy! He wasn't sure from where, but he remembered seeing those exact same eyes and nest of hair! Curious emerald gems looked back at him expectantly, and Bill realized that he was staring and had been for quite a while. Fighting back the slight embarrassment that came over him and already forgetting about the traumatizing experience that he had just gone through earlier that day, he smiled the smile that he saved for the people that he really liked and went on to talk to the boy.
"Wow! You know what, I know you! I've seen you before! I don't know where, but I saw you! I know I did, and Tomi did, too! I don't remember your name, but you know that I'm Bill right? And you know Tomi, too, right? We talked before! I think... But then you left! And then, and uhm... And then... Uhh... I can't remember what happened after... But yeah! We're friends, aren't we? Right? Right?" The rapid German that came out of the blonde child's-Bill's mouth flooded over Harry, who had to listen carefully to be able to comprehend the childishly spoken tongue. He was taught the formal way to speak German, and decided to respond in this manner.
"Uhm. I'm not sure if we know each other or not. I have never seen you before. But it is nice to meet you though, Bill. I also don't know who Tomi is. My name is Harry. If you want, we can be friends." A slight blush adorned Harry's cheeks. He was afraid of having his offer of friendship rejected. This happened so many times before that he was already preparing himself to accept the scornful reply. It saddened him to think that he won't be able to be friends with Bill, since he seemed like a nice person; he had wanted to meet this Tomi as well, but it seemed that this would not be the case this time around, as per usual. The depressing thoughts were unconsciously being given away by his jewel-like eyes, and Bill was perceptive enough to notice it.
"Oh! I remember now!" he said in an excited manner, unconsciously remembering a segment of his dream from the previous night, "We can't be friends-" the statement caused Harry to widen his eyes in pain and disappointment, "-'cause you promised me that we could be brothers! Don't you remember? I asked you, and Tomi did too! I didn't get to hear you though, but yeah! I asked you if you wanted to be our twin too, and then, and then, uh... And then..." He trailed off.
Harry was surprised. This boy was even stranger than he thought! Not friends, but brothers! Twins, even! Oh my. He didn't know whether to be flattered or wary. He looked into the wide, chocolate pools that Bill called eyes, and saw enthusiasm, hopefulness, and a hint of nervous anxiety. He was scared of Harry's reaction, too! Without even realizing what he was doing, the small raven wrapped his arms around the blonde twin, a small 'thank you,' whispered in his ear.
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Fin I didn't know how to end the chapter, so yeah. Oops?
Dang. I dunno. Is it good? Gimme reviews! Tell me what you guys think!
(1)wiegenlied-Mozart
Listen to Hayley Westenra's version, that's how the librarian sang it, just not as... Hayley-ish. Yah. :p
R&R. Seriously, constructive criticism is appreciated, flames, not so much. I mean, if you're just gonna review to say that I sucked or something, at least tell me why I sucked! Was my grammar bad? Too cliché? What? So yeah. I. Need. To. Know. How. To. Fix. This. Up. And without someone telling me anything, well, how am I to improve?
Sorry for the mini-rant. Next chappie they'll all meet. D'you guys think I made it move too fast near the end? Dunno...