I finally got around to releasing the third chapter. When I don't get reviews I don't release chapter as quickly, just a warning. Oh, and this is sort of a song chapter, listen to Memories by Within Temptation on YouTube, it's good. Onward into all that is Near and OC!
~*~
The winter sun had begun to set, spreading the pastel oranges, yellows, reds, and pinks around it, the last of the overcast sky becoming colorful as the sun sank low in the west. Like a great ball of fire. Web thought, continuously glancing over her shoulder to watch the frozen sunset.
They were walking home now, hands full of plastic grocery bags. To Near's surprise Web was humming softly, her eyes nearly closed, bobbing her head slightly to the tune. No accidents had happened on the bus on the way back and now they trudged on the ground, a steady snow falling slowly around them.
The white-haired boy listened to the tune, not sounding at all familiar. He had never really heard her singing/humming voice, but it sounded nice, sounded comfortable. Near wanted to hear it.
"Sing it." It was a risk to ask, since she was rarely like this, rarely ever showed her practically nonexistent gentle side.
"Sing what?" Near was amazed she even responded.
"Sing…what you were humming just now……please." She gave him a sidelong glance, studying to see if he was really serious, and eventually started humming again. And then, to Near's sole amazement, she began to sing.
"In this world you tried, not leaving me alone behind.
There's no other way, I'll pray to the gods, let him stay.
The memories ease the pain inside, now I know why.
All of my memories keep you near.
It's all about us, imagine you'd be here." She continued to sing, her voice echoing softly in the empty streets. He closed his eyes, just listening to Web's voice, trying to understand the words, to understand what they meant. And yet, no matter how he tried, he could not. Near finally stopped analyzing the lyrics and simply listened, listened to how the winter wind guided her words gently through the falling snow, whispering it by Near as she sung them.
He was almost surprised when the song ended, and then there was this awkward silence that followed, the newly found quiet making both the orphaned teens edgy and anxious.
"Christmas eve is the tomorrow isn't it?" Web sounded more as if she were asking herself then Near, but he decided to answer anyway.
"Yes." Despite no matter how much they said they hated each other, they always spent Christmas and Christmas Eve together. Presents were exchanged on Christmas Eve, and then they spent Christmas together, usually lying about, just talking, sometimes going out to goof about in the snow.
Near, though he would never admit it, had had many a wonderful Christmas with his troublemaker friend. They sometimes, if Web was in the mood to rent one, got an old Christmas cartoon, and they lived off of Christmas M&M's shipped straight from America.
"My room or yours this year?" He snapped back to reality quick enough to catch her question. They spent the holiday in either one's room each year, trading presents and such, usually falling asleep on accident and sleeping over. Other children thought it was weird, but that's what they were.
"Yours, I actually want to keep mine clean this Christmas." Web glared at him.
"Shove it; your room is messier than mine." She was right, actually, his had toys all over the floor, half finished puzzles and dice and action figures littered his floor, almost neglected. But the real reason he wanted to spend Christmas in her room was he liked hers much better.
Web didn't have a bed; she had a couch that she slept on, and a T.V. that sat on a low table against the opposite wall. A bathroom was stationed a few feet from the T.V., and a short coffee table sat two feet from the couch, usually clean. Bright lights hung along the ceiling, giving of a nice orange glow that stained itself neatly upon the eggshell carpet.
The reason her room looked this way was because every orphan at the Wammy's house, in order to encourage creativity, were allowed to decorate and stock their room in any fashion they liked, and the orphanage paid for it all. It was quite a wonderful idea. Brilliant, actually.
"Only sometimes." He countered her accusation, hoping he had not held out too long on doing so. By then they were trekking across the snowy lawn to that made up Wammy's front campus, and it had begun to snow more rapidly, little white flurries occasionally swirling around them.
~*~
Dinner had been quick, it had been Italian tonight, but Web was not that hungry. Instead she grabbed her food, covered it with some plastic wrap, and shoved it in the minifridge she had had installed into her room recently.
"Hello Warren." She mumbled as she came in, flicking on the lights and hopping onto her couch. Warren was her white King Crowntail, a type of fish with lengthy spines stretching from its back and exterior. Web had found it while wondering a pet store one day with Roger's permission, saw it, thought of Near, and bought it quickly for a fair price. She let out a long sigh, splayed across her couch like a dead person, and looked at the beta swimming calmly in his fish tank. "I had a loooong day. I went shopping, was almost molested by a man on the bus, I braved a busty clothing store clerk, and Near asked me to sing." Warren floated over to her and tapped his nose on the glass twice, as if encouraging her to go on. He knew she was troubled, of course, because when she was troubled her London accent really came out, growing heavy on her tongue no matter how long she had been living in this isolated place. Of course she had always had it, ever since she was small when she lived in a tall house with Mum and Dad. Until they died, that is.
She hadn't been to her home town since, almost frightened of the things she'd remember. Web remembered rain-slicked streets, and her mum holding her hand. Her mum had black hair too, and it reached to her chin, curling beautifully to frame her face. Green eyes contrasted with lipstick coated lips, making her look absolutely perfect. She was clutching a brolly in one hand, and holding Web's in her other. A black coat, a stylishly lopsided black hat, leather gloves. Flashes of images whirled through web's mind, making her clutch her head in pain.
"Stop!" she screamed, sitting up to grip her head in between her knees, "Stop it!" and then it was over. Sleep hit her suddenly in the face, and she drifted off, lying back down on the couch.
~*~
Near had come to visit Web that night, seeing as she left so suddenly from dinner, but he found her asleep on her couch, lights still on.
"Evening Warren." He whispered, passing the beta's tank in his quest to find a blanket to cover up Web. To no avail as he soon found out. "Warren, do you have any idea where your owner keeps her bloody blankets?" The white fish floated there for a moment, as if he were thinking, and then began to swim in a steady circle, over and over again, making small ripples in the water. Believing that animals had more intelligence than scientists gave them credit for Near decided to humor the beta, and he walked in a circle in the same section of the room that Warren was swimming around in in his fish tank.
Then, to his great happiness, he spotted the corner of a blanket hiding out behind the T.V., and he snatched it up, striking a heroic pose. Yes, this is how he acted when others weren't around. Carefully he snuck over to Web's sleeping form and draped the blanket over her, pulling it so it covered her completely.
With that he hurried to the door, whispered a sound thank you and goodnight to Warren, and turned off the lights.
~*~
Both slept peacefully that night, dreaming of instances that had happened years ago, memories from their childhood. And both found that they woke up singing the song Web had been so wistfully humming as they walked through the miles off falling snowflakes.
~*~
Yay, I made Web sing. I know this was a really boring chapter, but the next chapter after this is going to be CRAZY and interesting, and the "X" in "NearXOC" fanfiction will finally come into play. Review, no flames, most of us here are civil people.