Anderson's chair scraped across the floor, jostling randomly when it slid over different splatters of paint left by vengeful students. The teen liked to believe that they had just been careless at the time, and he looked at the abstract art the paint sometimes became when a collection of splatters were able to dry together before they were mopped up by the custodian. Anderson went to the teacher's front desk after the main body of the students had gone up to turn in their art pieces when the bell for the passing period rang. Just turning back to look at Vlad, with no reason behind doing so, the teen was surprised to see the red eyes right behind him, about to leave. A tan hand caught Vlad's shoulder and stopped him.
"You haven't turned in your art yet." Green eyes dropped to the empty hands and then roamed about the thin shoulders of the brown T-shirt the boy was wearing. He wasn't holding the hand picture, and he didn't have a backpack. Anderson's eyes narrowed and he squeezed the shoulder with a sigh. "You threw it away again, didn't you?"
Vlad just blinked, looking at the teen's frustration and disappointment. "What's your point?"
A growl came out with the words and the grip on the shoulder tightened until Vlad winced and shrugged it away sharply. "Because you did it, and you're not turning it in so you're not going to get credit. You don't care about your grades do you? You're good at this kind of stuff. Why not get something out of it? Like a good grade? Or you could even try for the National Art Merit Scholarship and go to college."
Vlad was rubbing his stinging arm with a faint glower creasing his mouth and sparking in his eyes. "I'm not going to college Anderson. So it doesn't matter." He stepped away quickly as Anderson froze for a moment. Then the football jock hurried after him, scooping up the backpack he had set by the desk, but then he stopped, knowing that pursuing the teen would do nothing. So instead, Anderson circled back to search the trashcans. He found the hand pencil drawing and flattened out the creases on the edge of a table.
Vlad watched from the doorway, then quietly slipped away to retrieve his sweatshirt from the other class. The sky outside was a sea of white and grey waves, wild air currents warping the clouds as they failed to give out rain, as if beating them for their incompetence. The crimson eyes didn't have the fire they normally did as they ran over the ocean of the sky and then fell to the horizon where land and trees began. He made his way to his next class to take an exam he had forgotten about. But he had read the chapters assigned for the history homework, so he knew what the test was on. Having failed it his Junior year, the class was easier this time around and he was managing to do fairly well in it, actually maintaining a B through the first quarter. He just always seemed…to take longer than the other students…to get certain concepts and understand the themes of the readings. That was probably why he always did so much better on the retake tests when he was allowed to take them. He still wished sometimes, while taking the tests, that he wasn't so goddamn stupid.
*~*~::..+..::~*~*
The weather was insane. It was raining buckets of water as high school students poured out of buildings and into the onslaught of the storm. The flat levels of grass in the quad were under an inch of water that had not been swallowed by the drains that sparsely dotted parts of the campus.
Anderson was in the school work out room, taking advantage of the variety of the equipment that had been provided for the school athletes. Members of the wrestling team were also in the room, along with other football players and one or two soccer players who had stayed because the turf field was too wet and the track was dangerous in this kind of weather. As lightening split the sky in the distance and thunder roared louder than the wind, droplets of rain made rings on the surface of puddles outside the open door. A girl closed it and then returned with her friend to a separate room where a few cardio machines were stored. The music became louder once its way of escape had been cut off, audile over the clinks of metal on metal and the voice of a coach.
Vlad lingered by a large tinted window in one of the buildings on the main campus. The lightening reflected on the window and brightened his eyes for a moment. Rain dripped lightly from his bangs onto his sweatshirt as he watched the weather. He heard a car screech in the parking lot, but without the damning crash of two colliding forces and the absence of honking horns, the boy knew an accident had not occurred. The oil that had collected on the streets was being lifting from the asphalt and suspended by the rain, and this made the roads a little slick, a little dangerous. A drop hanging from the black bangs shuddered and danced before falling after a short struggle. No more drops fell after it.
As the rain began to fall harder outside and trees bent and grazed the walls of the building, Vlad turned from the window and walked down a hall and through a closed door.
*~*~::..+..::~*~*
It was dark and it was only growing darker as the sky howled and the heavens waged their war, beating their thundering drums and showering daggered sparks from their clashing swords. The sky was a grey blue color, retaining texture as if the color had been sponged on and the sky was a rough canvass. It was 5:07 PM on the wall, and the sky was only getting darker and the raging gods were only getting fiercer, but Vlad had to leave. He had already ignored his employer for two days. His only luck was that he didn't have any other activities today.
The teachers had forbidden and stopped the students from loitering outside in the wet weather so Anderson had not been allowed to look for Vlad during lunch, which was rather fortunate for him because the black haired teen had decided to avoid him during that time. Now, as water flooded into the impractical ringed holes in his converse and spray from passing cars pelted him like buckshot, Vlad wouldn't have minded if he ran into the other teen. But as headlights, made hazy by the falling rain, dashed by the sidewalk, shooting the boy with stinging water, none of the cars stopped when they saw his silhouette in the dark.
Vlad hopped off the curb and trudged through an unseen puddle, a hiss splitting through his teeth when he felt the dirty water, and he lifted his hooded head for a moment to glare death into the puddle. He passed the opening of a side street and pitched to the side when he made a strained step to reach over another puddle. His foot crashed into the puddle as he caught his balance and the teen jumped out of the water and onto the next sidewalk. His legs were dead with cold. He couldn't feel them while he wished his prickling toes were numb instead. Ducking his head, the boy stared at his soaking shoes while the headlights from cars zoomed by after brightening the outline of his shape. As a truck rolled through the river of water flowing down the side of the street, into a storm drain, the sound of a car door opening and closing in the alley was muffled. So Vlad was ignorant of the person that stepped onto the curb behind him and stretched out a gloved hand.
Vlad gasped when a hard grip clamped over his shoulder and an even harder voice spoke behind his head. Then he paused and blinked, feeling the icy chill of his own face as he recognized the voice.
"Do you need a ride, Vladimir?"
Vlad turned as a car swept by, illuminating the two circular lenses on the woman's face along with the patch stitched into the fabric of her sleeve. It was a police uniform, and blue shone out for a moment behind the glasses. The teen watched Integra without thoughts in his mind.
The hand patted his shoulder and tugged on it loosely before letting go. "Get in. I'll drive you. Walking near the streets when it's raining like this is a hazard to your health and to those driving around here. We don't need a bloody accident so close to the holidays."
Without commenting, Vlad followed the woman and waited beside her police car. She got in the driver's seat and reached over to open the passenger door and then started the car as Vlad shut it again. Vlad, who was distracted by what was going on, did not watch the road to see where she was taking him. His eyes widened, shocked to see the familiar gate that opened to let them in, and he stared at the trees they passed. Integra pulled up her driveway and into her garage that opened after she pressed a button on her visor. She parked the car and got out, gruffly ordering the boy to hurry up. Vlad remained where he was, too stunned to do anything but stare at the white wall in front of the car.
"Get out. You're dripping on the seats." The uniformed woman circled around the front of her cop car and opened Vlad's door for him.
Stiffly, the teen followed the order. He closed the car door the woman abandoned when she marched to the mat before the door into the house and wiped her feet.
"Wipe your feet. They're filthy." She called over her shoulder and disappeared.
The disoriented boy slowly mimicked what Integra had done and went into the house, his shoes squeaking on the tile, tattling to Integra that the boy had failed to completely dry his converse. But that was to be expected after the amount of water they had been exposed to. Vlad left the corridor from the garage and followed the sound of the woman's boots as the squeaking converse became quieter. He skirted the perimeter of a curved wall and found himself looking at the kitchen where a few hanging lamps dropped light on the counters. The rest of the house was shadowed, the other lights mostly turned off. Integra flipped a few switches, brightening the house, and tossed her keys onto the counter beside her son who was bent over an arrangement of textbooks and notes. Anderson didn't even look up when the keys caught on some of his papers and pulled them a little ways over the granite counter space, messing up the collage of school work.
"Hi Mom." He replied absently as the woman opened the fridge and pulled out some things that she slammed mercilessly onto an open counter. She went to the fridge again, catching the door as it began to close.
"I brought home a puppy."
Vlad was still too stunned to react to the insult as he stood at the end of the curved wall, watching the two. Anderson's head snapped up and he spun around on his stool to look at his mother. "What? Really?" His confused expression lit up a little with excitement.
"Yeah." A hand gestured to the direction over her son's shoulder. "He's right there, you missed him honey. We should get your eyes checked again."
Anderson started to grumble as he turned back around, putting his fingers on the counter he had been working on. "There's no dog…" He growled before looking just to make sure. His eyes found the dripping Vlad staring at him blankly.
Anderson yelped and staggered back, almost tripping on the legs of his stool. He took two prolonged steps back and then rocked slightly on his heals as he gazed at the pale teen, gasping. "That's not a puppy! I mean, he's not a…!" He spun wildly to gawk at his mother and then stared at the boy, stupefied. "That's Vlad."
The woman smirked as she turned on the stove and the blue flames jumped up instantly to do her bidding. "Yes, sweetie. I know it's Vlad. Why don't you help him out over there, I think he's cold. His clothes are all wet from wandering around in the rain."
"I wasn't wandering around." Vlad's wide eyes stayed with the woman as she poured some vegetable oil into a pan and rotated it around to spread the fat. "I was going home."
Integra snorted, moving to another counter to set up a cutting board so she could chop up a big chunk of broccoli. "That's nice. You're still wet and you're still dripping on the floor, Vladimir. Alex probably has some clothes that you can borrow. Then he can show you to the guest room where you're going to sleep tonight."
Both of the boys stared at the woman, gapping at her tenacity. Vlad shivered a little in his wet clothes, thinking of the distance from the house to his apartment. He had only been twenty minutes from his apartment when Integra had picked him up. Now he had hours of walking time if he wanted to go home. Giving up, Vlad quietly followed Anderson up a nearby staircase and down the carpeted passage to the blonde teen's room. Vlad, as he stood in the room waiting for Anderson to pull himself away from his drawers of clothes, cringed as he looked at the shaggy carpet and saw dark smudges of dirt left by his shoes.
Anderson didn't notice when he threw the clothes on the bed inattentively, then flinched and got them again and gave them to Vlad. The pale face had dried during the car ride, and now only the black hair let water hit the clothes. "Anderson…" He said hesitantly as Anderson moved away to show Vlad to the guest room. "I think…my shoes… Look at the carpet."
Anderson glanced down and saw the dirt. He shrugged and watched his own sneakers. "Just take off your shoes…and don't worry about it. It's not really your fault."
Yes it is. Vlad sat down, reluctant to make more of a mess, and he pulled at the loose laces and yanked the converse from his feet. His socks were even worse, marked with clinging lumps of dirt or wood. Vlad stared at them, keeping his shoes on his lap. He peeled them off and frowned at the discolored water that marked his white, pruned feet. Not wanting to draw attention to it or bother Anderson, as he was already going out of his way to do a lot of things for him recently, the teen used the clean part of his pants, the fabric near his knees, to clean his feet. He rolled up the ends of his jeans when he saw that they were almost black, soaked with grim. Once decent for walking on the expensive looking carpet, Vlad got up and went to the door where Anderson was still waiting, unconscious of all that had occurred right in front of him, and they went to the guest room, flipping on a light as they walked. Anderson opened the door soundlessly and hit the switch that was installed next to the frame of the doorway.
"It's not very big." Anderson apologized, rubbing his head as he looked at the carpet.
Vlad stared at the dark navy comforter with green sheets visible where they were folded back with the comforted near the headboard of the bed. A pillow that matched the sheets was propped up against the headboard, showing off the patterned texture on the pillow case. An armoire and a dresser were placed by the wall, filling space that didn't have a picture covering the light blue paint. It was as big, if not bigger, than his one room apartment, without counting the guest room's closet. This…isn't much? "Rich fat ass."
Anderson jerked and scowled at Vlad.
"This room is like a freaken hotel suite. What the hell are you saying it sucks for?"
Speechless, Anderson was easily banished from the room when Vlad told him he was going to strip right then and there, regardless of whether or not the other boy decided to leave. Anderson waited outside the door until Vlad's voice drew him back into the room.
"What should I do with my clothes? If I put them down they're going to mess up stuff…" Vlad was holding the clothes out away from himself, dismayed when they dripped a little on the carpet while he struggled to not get the borrowed clothes dirty. Red eyes sought out Anderson's face to make sure he wasn't mad about the drops of water. "Can I borrow your washing machine? Or your dryer?"
"Uh…yeah. Give them to me and I'll go put them in." Anderson went forward and took the clothes out of Vlad's hands before the teen could respond, and, to Vlad's horror, Anderson tucked the bundle under his arm. Vlad almost swung the converse in his other hand to quickly snatch the clothes back, but he stopped in fear of flinging dirt from the shoes. Because of the distraction, Anderson was already out of the room when Vlad caught him.
"Wait, idiot! They're messing up your shirt..." Anderson moved out of reach and waved the worried hands away.
"It's fine. I'll have to wash it anyway. I might as well add in my load of laundry so that we don't waste a ton of water washing just your stuff." He noted the shoes with socks tucked into them and held out his hand. "Give me your socks and we can add your shoes too if you take out the laces."
Vlad stopped trying to take the clothes away and he walked down the stairs quietly. "You can wash shoes in a washing machine?" His questioning eyes made Anderson smirk and then chuckle.
"Well, yeah. You've never put your shoes in your washing machine before?"
Vlad shook his head as they reached the bottom of the stairs. The teen's bare feet padded against the cool white tiles. Once their ears became accustomed to the sound, it disappeared.
When they were in the laundry room, Vlad pulled out his laces while Anderson dropped the wet clothes into the open machine. He left and changed his shirt in his room before hooking his arms around his laundry basket. It creaked in his arms all the way back to the laundry room. Vlad was waiting for him, his shoes in one hand with his laces in the other, with his face showing some kind of inner conflict.
"I don't think…" He shook his head as Anderson put the basket down and began stuffing his clothes into the washing machine. "I'm just going to clean my shoes myself…I'm not going to put them in."
Anderson stopped after dropping a pair of shorts into the open lid. He looked back over his shoulder, with a frown pulling his lips downward. "Why not? It's way easier…and they get cleaner in the washer."
The black head of hair moved back and forth as Vlad refused to believe the teen. "No way Anderson. They're going to break your washing machine, I just know it, and I'm not going to take that chance. Alright? I'll just wash them in the sink over there." A bare foot stepped towards the deep sink at the end of the room.
"No. Hey! I said you don't need to do that!" Anderson dodged his laundry basket and quickly grabbed Vlad's arm, dragging him away from the sink. They struggled for a moment and then the pale teen gave up the fight, but stubbornly held the shoes out of Anderson's reach.
"They're going to break it!" Vlad leaned away from Anderson's grabbing hands.
"No." The larger boy missed the shoes again and reached around Vlad to get at them. "They aren't! I swear! And if they did it'll be my fault!"
"No!" Vlad ducked away and ran to the sink. A hand caught his shirt and refused to let go. The boy growled as he was forced to stop. "Let go! You're going to stretch the shirt out, you stupid fat ass! It's your goddamn shirt!" He gasped and desperately tried to move the shoes out of the way, but Anderson got a hold of them and tugged.
"Yeah, my shirt, my washer, your shoes, into the washer, now!"
"What?" They fought to keep the shoes in their hands instead of the other's.
"Shoes…" Grunt. Tug. "…into the washer! Now!" Vlad's back was bent over the lip of the sink as he pulled on the shoes, and Anderson's socks slipped a little over the tiles as he yelled. "Let go! Stupid runt!"
Vlad twisted his body to tear the shoes from Anderson's grasp, lifting them into the air so that they almost bumped into a high stained glass window. "No way in Hell, fat ass!"
"You're being an idiot, Vlad!" Anderson pulled hard on the shoes and they swung down, half way over the other teen's head, and then they stayed there for a while until they were slowly brought between the two. Vlad, with a sudden yank, held them to his chest, catching Anderson off guard. He tugged and tugged on the shoes, but they wouldn't budge now. "Give me the shoes!" The growl demanded.
Vlad jerked with each tug, but managed to keep his grip on the shoes. "No! No way in fucking Hell!"
"Excuse me?"
Both of the boys gasped, freezing in their positions. Anderson kept his hands on the shoes, pulling on them when he thought Vlad was off guard. The black haired teen grunted and pulled back. He yelled to Integra over the resumed struggle. "He's crazy! He wants to break your washing machine with my shoes!"
"No!" Anderson finally let go, making Vlad hit his back on the sink with a hiss. The green eyes turned to the mother and the questioning look on her face. "I just want to put them in the washer and he's freaking out." He tried to explain, his hands indicating the disheveled and glowering Vlad. "Tell him they won't break the washing machine. Tell him. He won't believe me."
Integra watched Vlad look at her, waiting for her to tell Anderson that he was the crazy one. Instead, she shook her head and set her hand on her hip with a sigh. "Give them to me, Vladimir."
Hesitating, the boy edged towards her, searching for her intentions in the blue eyes. The shoes were transferred to the woman's gloves. Integra nodded in thanks and then immediately threw the shoes into the open washing machine. Vlad's jaw dropped and he stared at her, devastated. "But they'll break it!" He protested urgently lifting up his hands. Integra saw the laces he was still holding and she snatched them away and tossed them into the machine as well, wiping her hands off afterwards to show that the job was finished.
"There. Much better." She smiled, amused by Vlad's desolate expression as he gazed at the washing machine. He began to fidget anxiously, and the woman shot her son a look to tell him not to make fun of the other boy before she left.
Vlad refused to look away from the machine as Anderson piled clothes over the shoes. "Anderson…take them out." The teen paused, glasses rotating to the pale features. He watched Vlad's face as he dropped in another fist full of clothes. Vlad flinched visibly. The boy did it again and again, getting the same response. Now Vlad looked like he was being tortured. "Please. You have to take them out! They're going to break it! I'm sure of it! Dead sure!"
Anderson pursed his lips, as if in deep thought. Then he slammed the lid closed, shaking his head. "Nope. They won't, I promise." He poured out some soup into the cap of its container and then reopened the machine and poured it in. The football jock started the washing machine and turned to watch the skinny teen pull his black hair with his leg jerking spastically as he forced himself not to run to the machine. Anderson started laughing despite himself, and Vlad let go of his hair and planted his feet firmly on the tiles with a weak snarl.
"Shut up, fat rich ass bastard." His fist shot out at the washing machine and his foot crashed into the floor. "Take them out!"
"No."
Vlad cursed under his breath and paced frantically back and forth for a while, glancing at the machine. Finally he plopped down on the floor with his back against the wall and brought up his knees, lacing his fingers nervously together, moving them constantly. "Then I'll just have to keep watch."
"What?" Anderson observed the fitful nerves, dumbfounded now by the boy's behavior. "Watch what?"
A finger pointed at the machine before returning to be twined with its brothers again. The bare feet tapped out a tuneless beat, moving in turns. Anderson continued to stare, guilt visiting him. Green eyes scouted about, hoping to find something else to look at as he tried to gain the courage to leave the room or find the words that would convince Vlad that there was nothing to worry about. His hand roamed through his short hair.
"Come on, Vlad…I bet dinner's almost ready." Spoke the quiet voice. Vlad shook his head. Now only one bare foot was tapping.
"If it starts doing something weird…if it starts to break…" He shook his head and closed his eyes for a second. "I'm going to sit right here so that I can take the shoes out or stop it if…it's breaking, Anderson. I'm not going to let my shoes destroy your washer… It's not fair."
What's fair? Anderson growled, becoming impatient now. He went to the other boy and stood, looming over him. Vlad wouldn't look up at his face. "Get up. Let's go eat or see if we can help my mom by setting the table."
Vlad froze, stricken by the two obligations. Anderson bent over and tried to lift Vlad to his feet, gripping the thin arms. Slowly, Vlad cooperated. "Fine… I'll set the table with you, but then I have to come back. Okay, Anderson?"
A tan hand readjusted its bronze glasses with a sigh of relief. "Halleluiah." Sighing again, Anderson closed his eyes and then watched Vlad for a while before they started for the kitchen. "They won't break the washer, Vlad."
The teen shook his head, stuffing his idle hands into the pockets of the jeans he had borrowed. "I just want to make sure."
Anderson made an exasperated, almost pained, groan and knocked his knuckles on his head. "Stupid. This is stupid! I'm telling you the truth. Do you think I'd lie about something like this?" Vlad tucked his chin to his chest, a little ashamed of himself now.
"I put…too many towels into my uncle's washing machine…once…" The teen spoke quietly, forcing Anderson to calm in order to hear him. "…and it broke..." Vlad sighed, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck as it stiffened. "He just stared at it for the longest time…just stood there. Never saying a thing." Anderson watched Vlad's morose demeanor, his mouth twitching once.
He faced straight ahead as they went into the kitchen to wash their hands so they could set the table. When Anderson was grabbing up the forks, Vlad got the knives. "They won't break it. I promise, so just eat with us when the food's ready."
Vlad didn't respond.
As they began to put the silverware on the placemats, Vlad put the knives next to Anderson's forks. When Anderson came back with a stack of plates that had two empty glasses seated on the top of them, with Vlad carrying the spoons and another glass behind him, the green eyes paused on the knives and forks. He moved the knives over to the right side as he put a plate on each placemat and a glass behind them. Vlad blinked at the rearrangement and then peered down at his spoon filled fist, not knowing what he should do. Anderson saw the teen struggle for a while and then put the spoon next to the fork.
"Put it on the right, on the far side of the knife." Anderson was watching when Vlad looked up and then ducked his head and fixed the spoon. He put the glass by the placemat that didn't have one and finished doling out the spoons. Integra was watching from the kitchen, having sensed that something was off. Vlad was standing next to Anderson when he set down his third and final spoon. "Haven't you set a table before?" Anderson asked. Thin shoulders jerked at the question.
"No."
Integra's lips twitched into a frown and she returned to the stove to mix the wild rice that was cooking in the oiled pan with a wooden spoon. "Damn it." She hissed, shoving the rice into a pile that she flattened fiercely. "After you bring a stray puppy home…" She growled, lines marring her features as she beat at the rice. "…you don't want to put it outside again." The woman's eyes narrowed as she cursed quietly, pained when she recalled the night the red eyed teen had bitten her. She had tried to taze the boy as he escaped over a chain linked fence afterwards.
The scar glinted a little in the light coming from the hood of the stove that sucked up the cooking fumes, and the hand moved with the wooden spoon.
*~*~::..+..::~*~*
Anderson gathered up his notes from the counter with the hanging lights and stools as his mother finished cooking. Vlad helped by picking up the two textbooks and carrying them up after Anderson, into the teen's bedroom. Anderson put his notes on his desk so Vlad put the books beside them. The books were picked up and laid on the notes to keep them flat while Vlad watched, showing no reaction towards the correction. "My mom will call us when the food's ready." Anderson explained as he sat in his chair and opened his laptop. As the screen came to life, he reached over the side of his desk, standing up when he needed a few more inches, and wheeled another chair around the corner of the desk, situating it beside his own. He typed in his password as he spoke. "Sit. I think we have a few minutes to kill."
The black haired teen sat down, red eyes scanning the screen and then flitting over to the textbooks. Vlad licked his lips and then bit them sharply. "What were you studying?"
Green went to the books as well. "Oh, them? Physics and Calc. I'm in Calc BC. You?" Anderson waited for Vlad to answer, his finger tapping on his mouse pad without needing his eyes to watch it.
"…Not taking math this year." Vlad eyed the iTunes window that popped up after the computer's fan fussed for a while. "I already took three years of math and that's all you need in order to graduate."
Anderson nodded, not too surprised. "Most people drop math their final year. What did you take last year?"
"…Statistics."
"Hm." The glass lenses mirrored the light from the screen as the teen read through his list of songs, scrolling down occasionally. The wind howled a little at the window as it abused the trees that surrounded the house.
The red eyes came back from the window and followed the descending list. "What did you take?"
"Calc AB. It goes: AB, BC, and then CD. All college level for college credit. All of them make you want to tear out your hair and beg for summer to come as quickly as possible." He chuckled while Vlad frowned.
"That doesn't sound good…at all."
"No. But then again," Anderson shrugged and his eyes stayed on a song title. "…sometimes it's fun. It's interesting, Math. It's Man's knowledge, everything he has learned and discovered since the beginning of history, allowing the present world to exist and function as it does… So I like calculus a bit." He smiled to himself as he clicked on the song.
Vlad would have liked to mull over the words, but the music distracted him.
"Nocturne…in C sharp minor." Crimson flowed from the speakers to Anderson's smirk.
"I heard you play it once."
Vlad's eyes dropped to the speakers again, and he was quiet, listening to the song. Anderson watched the screen as the seconds ticked by, tracked by the music player.
Integra's voice came from the kitchen. "Alex! You know I'll eat everything if you don't get your butt down here in thirty seconds, counting…now! I, 2, 3, 4…" Anderson hissed something and scrambled out of the room with Vlad following behind him. Vlad stopped by the table while Anderson slid down the hall on his socks without meaning to. The red eyes blinked at the comical sight, waiting for the other teen to take a seat so that he would know where he was supposed to sit.
*~*~::..+..::~*~*
Integra was at the head of the table with Alexander to her left and Vladimir to her right. The red eyes were moving with Anderson's hands, and Vlad would copy whatever he did. Anderson took out his napkin, unfolded it, and lowered it in his lap and then gasped and put the napkin on the table again and dashed into the kitchen. Vlad stopped after taking the napkin out of his lap again, then watched, puzzled when Anderson was gone. He looked to Integra for an answer and she fitted her own napkin onto her lap.
"He forgot the drinks. He does that every night, you just put the napkin in your lap and we'll wait until he gets back."
Vlad nodded, not knowing what else he should do, and then he looked down at the food. He could feel the steam and heat wafting up into his face, delicious scents invading his nose. The teen bit his lip, a little uncomfortable in the strange environment with the strange mannerisms and strange food and super strange people that kidnap others and take them home… He didn't even know what the meat was. Clearing his throat, Vlad shifted in his seat to make it more comfortable. "What's the meat thing?" He pointed at a whitish hunk of meat, only glancing at the police woman for a second.
"Shark."
Vlad froze and stared at the fish, full of amazement. He almost cussed but bit his tongue instead. "Oh." Came his lame response, and the boy was quiet after that. Anderson returned with three containers: milk, orange juice, and cranberry juice. He handed the cranberry juice to his mother and poured himself a glass of milk, then offered Vlad a choice of the three.
Crimson eyes gazed at the drinks while a hand slowly selected the cranberry juice. It was red, his favorite color, after all. And he didn't like milk and orange juice didn't sit well in his stomach. After pouring out the cranberry juice and sliding it back to the center of the table, Vlad watched as Anderson gathered the containers up again and removed them from the room, and then returned moments later. They were allowed to eat after that.
Vlad ate slowly, glancing at Anderson at times when he began to doubt what he was doing. He ate some of the shark. It was amazing. He ate some of the broccoli. It was good. He ate some of the rice. It was addictive. But still, he ate cautiously and savored his food while Anderson reached for seconds, bringing an awkward smirk to the pale lips.
"How was school?"
Vlad's head whipped to Integra and then he looked at Anderson as the boy responded.
"Good. A few tests, but I feel that I did well on them. And I drew a Santa bug in art and Vlad made fun of it."
Integra smiled as she ate, looking down at her food. "Vlad's a bully, then?"
"No." The black haired boy defended himself, chewing on the side of his mouth. "You would have laughed too if you'd seen it."
Now the woman snickered and looked up. "Is your art so great?"
Vlad's face went blank, almost satisfying Integra for a moment, but her son ruined it, drawing a threatening growl from Vlad as well. "His art's amazing. Best in the class, but he has this bad habit of throwing it away when he's done."
Dark curses were mumbled under Vlad's breath as blue eyes examined him closely. Seeing that it would be best to drop the subject and leave it for another time, the woman stabbed a broccoli tree with her fork and then chewed it to death, quietly.
Anderson was into the conversation now, and he smiled knowingly at his mother. "But he's even better at the pi…"
"Anderson." Vlad cut in sharply, drawing the two pairs of eyes to himself, and his fork indicated Anderson's broccolis. "Eat your vegetables."
"But…" Anderson's disappointment began to prevail over his excitement, and his voice died down until his mother killed it entirely.
"He's right, Alex. Eat your vegetables."
Beaten, Anderson grumpily ate his green trees in silence. When dinner seemed to be at a close and the blonde teen asked to be excused, Integra looked at Vlad's plate and frowned a little. "In this house, you are expected to finish everything on your plate, Vladimir." The boy still had a little of everything left.
Vlad was quiet, and he stared at the food until the mother and son watched him, chilled by the suddenly heavy atmosphere. "I don't want to waste it." Vlad began, still gazing at the food. "But I can't eat anymore."
He had eaten a little less than Integra and only half as much as Anderson. After a few moments, Integra murmured that it was okay for him to go. She called after the two when she regained her voice and picked up her own dishes to take them into the kitchen. "No inappropriate sites on the laptop, Alexander, or I'll burn that thing."
"Mom! You know I don't do that!"
The woman sniggered at the embarrassed, high pitch in her son's voice and she began to rinse off the dishes to load them into the dish washer. The two teens were scaling the stairs as Vlad teased Anderson about what his mom had said and then was told to shut up.
"How are your fingers?"
The sudden question made Vlad's steps falter. He peered down at his hands. "Good, I guess. I get little pricks once in a while, but it's not as bad as I'd thought it would be. They're…it's like they're bruised, for the most part." The two noted the slight discoloration around the knuckles on one of the pale hands.
"Hm." Anderson went into his room but Vlad stopped at the doorway, looking back at the guest room. "You can come in. It's not late yet." Vlad entered the room to find Anderson by his laptop again. He chuckled.
"'No inappropriate sites on the laptop Alexander.'"
"Oh!" Anderson hissed but continued to click on the computer, searching for something. "Go…jump in a puddle, Vlad."
The teen smirked. "Were you going to say, go to Hell?"
"No. I was going to say, go jump in a darned puddle, you loon."
Vlad laughed and moved to sit in the wheeled chair again. "No. First I would have to have my shoes back, and I think I've had enough of puddles…today…" His whole body went rigid when his voice caught in his throat and his eyes shot wide, flying to the door. Anderson growled and grabbed him before he could run off.
"Not the stupid shoes again! They'll be done soon anyway so just leave them. Nothing's going to break." He grumbled as he saw that Vlad's doubt refused to leave as he sat down. "I thought we were done with the shoe business."
"Fine. I'm not going… I said I'm not going, so you can let go now, fat ass." Vlad's dull eyes ran over the desk and his hand fiddled with a drawer he pulled out, searching through the contents. Anderson slammed the drawer shut again, and tapped on his key board before getting up.
"I set up the internet and stuff…you can use it if you need to study for anything. You don't have any textbooks with you, so I thought I'd show you where you can get the same information on the school site." His finger touched his computer screen to indicate a few individual links. "I'm going to go take a shower, alright? Or do you want to take yours now? You can use the other bathroom."
Vlad thought about it and didn't see why he shouldn't, so he got up and let Anderson close the laptop and lead him to a bathroom with a shower. The shampoo in this shower didn't smell as nice, Vlad noticed with a frown, but the conditioner was the same, so he didn't mind. After running his fingers through his hair in the mirror for a while, the teen slipped his borrowed clothes on and went back to Anderson's room. The door was closed, so he waited in the hall until it opened again to reveal a cleaner Anderson who wasn't wearing his glasses. A hand beckoned Vlad in. As the dark head of hair passed Anderson, the teen couldn't resist and he ruffled Vlad's hair with a laugh, startling the other boy. "Your hair's so fluffy now." Vlad moved away with a hissed curse damning Anderson to Hell and beyond. Anderson only laughed. "You smell a lot better than you did before."
"Stuff it, rich bastard."
The green eyes shone with humor while Anderson moved to his desk and propped open his laptop again. "I think I'll name you Fluffy."
"Screw you, Fat Ass. You're a freaken Fat Ass, that's your name."
"I am NOT fat, fluffy runt." He had the window for the school website on the screen and he scooped up his notes and textbooks and went to his bed, where he dropped them. "Do your homework and study."
Vlad leaned back in his seat, thrumming his fingers on the desk. "No homework. Only one test, and I have a free period right before it, and I read all the books so I know all the stuff."
"Is it English?" Anderson's mattress creaked as he lowered himself onto it and crawled into a comfortable position, opening a textbook.
"Yeah."
"Read the Spark notes online, just to refresh your memory."
Red stayed with the computer screen, blinking at times, and the fingers continued to thrum on the desk. Finally, Vlad got up and stretched his hands over his head and cracked his back a bit. "Gonna take a nap."
Anderson sighed and buried his nose in his book. "Fine. Suite yourself." Vlad began to head for the door but Anderson's head popped up with a gasp. "Wait. You know about the….er…money stuff. I'll get for you tomorrow. You can come with me to the bank."
Vlad was frozen in the doorway, his face twisted disturbingly. He got rid of the expression before Anderson could see it, and he moved his face away from the boy's eyes. "Don't bother. My hand's healing faster than I thought." He opened and closed it easily, showing that he was speaking the truth. "I'm a fast healer…none of that's a problem anymore. Keep your money." Anderson didn't say anything when Vlad left and closed the door.
No. Vlad was sure he had lost his temporary job. It was a given after his second day of absence, but he didn't care anymore. He didn't want Anderson's money.
As Vlad was making his way passed the stairs to go to the guest room, a sound seeped through his flesh and solidified his muscles, stopping him where he was. It was the ghostly sound of a piano. Coaxed by the music, Vlad didn't think twice about going to the source, and he watched Integra play brazenly. He aware of the fact that she knew that he was there, and suddenly, he realized that she had caught on to the secret or had already been told by her son. He stood behind her and watched until she was done.
The woman turned around, glancing about to see if Anderson had come as well. She preferred that he hadn't. "I hear you can play." Her lips smirked at the boy's emotionless face that became a little cold, in her opinion.
"Why did you bring me here?" He asked in a hushed voice, waiting for something to happen. It was something specific and significant, but he could not yet determine what that something was supposed to be.
Integra's voice became quiet as well, like a gentle whisper that was still strong enough to fill the room. "Play for me."
The red eyes didn't change. Nothing changed in the room. It was just as peaceful and quiet when Vlad moved to the bench and Integra got up, allowing it to creak a little. He sat down and laid his fingers on the ivory tips of the keys. "Is this why you brought me here?"
"No."
Vladimir Dracula said nothing, and he did not play. "This isn't just playing and listening to music." Integra didn't comment as the boy remained, poised to begin, yet his slack fingers said that he would not start at the moment. "Have you ever heard of the name Vladimir Horowitz? …..No." His head moved a little, as if he were going to shake it to support his claim. "And most around here haven't. He was a Russian pianist and a composer who played for food in order to support his family during the Russian Revolution, when he was about my age. He survived during that time…and learned to play and honed his skills despite the obstacles… He was a…great composer…and pianist…." Sadly, his words began to fail him and Vlad fell into silence. His fingers twitched as he fought to find a way to express himself. "I was named after him… My mother was a musician… So playing the piano for me, isn't just playing. I don't do it for just anyone or at just any random time." He fixed his posture and lifted his palms from the keys, where they had come to rest. "I don't do it just because someone asks me to."
Integra didn't speak. She only watched and waited to see if he would play. Vlad almost didn't. He almost stood up and left at that moment, but he stayed, and slowly pressed down on a key to play his first note.
The notes came out softly, moving up and down, over the piano, changing to different pitches, like the blossoming of different flowers. A large one opened as several smaller ones unveiled themselves. Then the rolling deeper notes flowed like waves, thick and heavy, through the music, catching it in a rapid current that sped off with the thin white fingers, over the keys, pressing them down and jerking the hands as if they were only a part of its functioning body. His hands were an organ working to bring the piano to life. His hands became its heart and they pressed the keys that filled the instrument's wired veins with vibrations that sung out sound.
Time became lost as the fingers flowed and jumped and leaped over the keys. Stroking them and then striking them just to slow and comfort them again with softer notes. The current caught again and the hands were whisked up and down the piano once more, always moved by the fluid sound and not the muscles that were within the boy. It was almost spiritual, like a holy ritual of worship to a god of music. But that was only a feeling in the back of Integra's mind as she watched the fingers, unable to look away to see the boy's face. She watched, and minutes went by. The piano's voice rose and drew Anderson out of his room and he watched as well, standing beside his mother while she failed to notice him.
And Vladimir played on and on. And his hands began to slow and time took up its place in their lives again. He stopped and turned to them, suddenly lighter, in his mood, than before. He was at ease. "Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 3 in D minor… Not all of it, and it's not the same without the orchestra, but I think I did it some justice." The two watched him without interrupting as the teen went on. Vlad could feel his quickened pulse begin to slow. He didn't want to lose the exhilarating high he was feeling at the moment, and he couldn't remember the last time he had played like this for anyone else other than his uncle, and he had only played for the man a few times through the years. "Can I play something else?" Integra came back to life with a gentle smile on her lips, warmed by a secret she kept to herself. The boy had accepted them, and now there would be no getting rid of him. "Of course. Play until your fingers fall off, Vladimir." She left the room with the same smile, while Anderson lingered. "I'm going to move my stuff down here. I'll be back in a second." He almost apologized as he ran off to transfer his books and notes to the glass coffee table surrounded by white reading chairs in the open room that contained the piano. Vlad didn't wait for him to return, and began to play Moonlight Sanata, the first movement. And then he played the Appassionata Sonata, the third movement. He played until Anderson had finished his studying and was reclined back in a chair with his eyes closed, about to fall asleep. Integra came and told the boys to go to bed once Vlad had finished his last piece.
*~*~::..+..::~*~*
Vlad was the first to wake up, and he took his time looking out of the window in the guest room, to view the trees and the buildings in the far distance, all dampened with rain. Boredom drew the long, sinewy fingers to the different drawers in the room, amounting to the discovery of a clean comb and a tube of toothpaste without a brush. He left the tooth paste and used the comb by the mirror, easily disentangling a few persistent knots. When the clock showed that it was 6:55 AM and Vlad was sure that it had been Integra's car that had driven through the trees a few minutes ago, he took it upon himself to wake up the sleeping teen. It was Friday, so of course Anderson didn't want to wake up.
He crept into the quiet room and his predatory eyes spotted his lumpy prey that was hidden under the blankets. Patiently, with a wicked grin on his lips, he stalked closer to the mound and then took aim. He pounced on the sleeping Anderson, making the teenager fight and yell to get him off. By the time the blankets slipped off the bed, with Vlad falling with them, Anderson was kneeling on his mattress with his pillow as a handy weapon hovering over his head. Soon, because of Vlad's sniggers, Anderson figured out what had happened and he yelled at the 'scrawny, fluffy runt' to get out of his room.
When Anderson had dressed and gathered his stuff into his backpack, he went downstairs to help Vlad find the bowls so they could eat some cereal. It was at this time that they recalled the washing machine. They had no choice but to start it and then search for something that Vlad could wear.
After all of this had been settled out, Anderson drove them both to school.