Blue swept over the stiff sheets of paper in his hands, the enlarged photographs that had been sent home with Vladimir several months ago, but had failed to ever reach his uncle's hands...until now. Walter's eyes noted, in general, the young faces of the boy's sixth grade class. The bottom row, to the right, where the teacher stood, the layout looked odd to the man as she seemed to be made less prominent, overall, because of her obscure placement in the photo. They were focusing on the children, he assumed. No one really cared about what the teacher's face looked like, what her gender was, only what grades her lessons produced on her students' report cards. The eyes moved to the smiling young face beside her, and then to the one that followed, all the way down the first row containing the smallest of the children. Vladimir wasn't among them. Walter blinked, but thought little of it for surely the pathetic child would be in the next row. He looked. Vladimir was not present. Four rows. Two more to go. The third? No Vladimir.
Now Walter paused to let his eyes check the first two rows again, and then the third. His lips twitched involuntarily, affected by the man's slight surprise. Well, they're all brats. They're all scrawny and small, and especially this batch. Some look like they still have baby fat on their cheeks…the eyes lifted to the final row and slowly progressed across the line. He reached the end and the blue eyes twitched again, but this time it was meant to suppress a cringe.
The abnormally white skin was shocking when made in such a close comparison with the healthy child standing next to the boy…be it that they were separated by more space than the other children tended to be from one another in the photo. The red eyes even picked up the light, if the camera had flashed, and they glowed eerily in the gloom that seemed to be sucked towards the child. There really was no shadow, no gloom at all. But looking at the boy and his dark clothes, mostly black, and his face, the only one without a smile…this boy was nothing like Vladimir, the shy, timid boy… This boy, this stoic face and the cold, granite-like characteristics of a statue coupled with the red eyes…more like a gargoyle, in just the feeling, the prickle on the back that chilled a strong heart with peculiar awe… The child, that really could not retain the definition of such an innocent, warming youth, could not compare to the nervous little boy that lived in his home. Vladimir was a meek, affectionate little creature, like a deformed or mutated lamb. But the student in this class picture, was like a ghoul, a haunt…a demon. Walter didn't blame the boy that had been assigned the place next to his nephew, for keeping that breadth of space between them. This thing, his nephew…not a thing…was something one would see in a ghostly horror movie, a specter child that appears behind the main character with bloodied clothes…the one that might whisper into an ear with a frigid breath…I see dead people…they're coming…or other such nonsensical things that managed to make a heart skip a beat in a dark room.
Walter stared at the picture of his nephew, expressionless features adorned with only the unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. The white stick moved, rolled to the side as the blue eyes narrowed and the picture was brought closer. The stiff sheet behind it was shuffled to cover the class photo. Four basic positions for taking a year book picture were presented. They were cheap, meant to be examples that a parent would choose from and purchase in wallet or other dimensions of size. Timid little Vlad wasn't in any of them. The stoic white statue and the burning hellish eyes had replaced him.
No emotion. None, absolutely nothing like human emotion could be found in the child's face. It was simply blank, like he had no soul, only the fire of his eyes. Walter looked at the photo and gradually passed this interpretation of the picture. There was nothing hellish about it. Vladimir seemed like he was bored, or tired, and that he would rather not be there, so his face was blank for those reasons. If a different child had such an expression, that is what they would come across as being; bored, tired, and possibly unhappy, while Vlad took on the form of a supernatural thing…creature. Not a thing…this was his nephew…a miniature person…not a thing.
The other sheets were more pliant pieces of paper and they folded, making paper-sounds when they were shifted through. They covered the photographs before a hand shoved the stack back into a drawer that was organized with all of the boy's school papers the child was supposed to keep track of. The man flipped the corners of papers, removing one when something caught his eye. This one was tinted pink, possibly to make it more noticeable and seemingly important. Valentines Day Party…no, not important, just crap…but Walter still allowed his eyes to glance over the message. Why was the boy keeping useless scraps of paper? He would have to tell Vlad what to keep and what needed to be…
Walter's thoughts stopped, and his eyes went to the beginning of the paragraph again, oblivious of the nauseating heart border and the fancy print.
This is a reminder for parents to help their son/daughter decorate their own Valentine's box and bring enough Valentine's Day cards for the entire class. We have twenty-eight students this year, so there should be twenty-eight Valentines. Candy is optional. The Valentine's box is a homework assignment that will be graded for completion, not artistic skill.
This year the fourteenth falls on a week day, so our class party will be held on February 14th, after the student's lunch break which ends at 12:25 p.m. The parents responsible for organizing our much awaited Valentine's Day party and card exchange are the following: Mrs. Blair, Mrs. Lee, Mr. Stanton, Mrs. Clifford, Mr. Dracula, and Mrs. Kirkpatrick. Please plan one holiday activity and communicate as to who will bring food and who will be in charge of bringing utensils, cups, and paper (or Styrofoam) plates. Unfortunately, as we remember for our Halloween party, there were not enough disposable cups for all of our students. Keep in mind, we have twenty-eight students.
Thank you…
Walter stared at the paper, a frown beginning to dent his mouth. Mr. Dracula, he read it again. February 14th…this notice was several weeks old…but the boy had never mentioned it. Maybe he hadn't read the paper before stuffing it away in the drawer… The frown came and Walter put the paper on top of the order forms for class pictures. Then there was a pause, a moment of consideration. A hand drew out the stack of papers, emptying the drawer, minus a few orange pencils and a paperclip that were left behind. The papers were brought to the table while one of the mismatched chairs was occupied as Walter sorted through his nephew's school papers.
Vladimir had never made a Valentine's box…or any Valentines, for that matter. So he had failed to complete that assignment. Now other papers, only a few, told of the other assignments that had been skipped. Well, not skipped, but left incomplete or done without answering a majority of the questions correctly. A handful of progress reports listed the boy's grades for the first, second, and third quarter. Two B's and the rest were C+'s. The second quarter, before the end of the semester, straight C's. Third quarter, one B, mostly C's and one D.
The kid was a moron. The blue eyes narrowed, nailing the accusation to the surface of the paper. An incompetent moron. This wasn't high school, this was grade school. This was supposed to be EASY, and he has a D?
D for disgusting, Walter scoffed and threw the papers into the drawer and forced it shut, crinkling a paper that caught and folded up and out of the drawer in the process of closing. Walter opened it and slipped the paper back in, flattening it for a moment with his knuckles. Then he closed the drawer and gazed at it, thinking of the class picture, the one that showed, by the students' order in the rows, that his runty, pathetic nephew was the tallest and most intimidating looking child in his class. He was also one of the youngest…if the boy's birthday was in the summer. July…or was it June? He couldn't remember.
The man stared at the drawer for a long while, thinking seriously, for the first time, about what the boy living in his home was like. Shy, timid, puny? But kids his age seemed to be scared of him, in the picture…and he was bigger than them… And he was a fucking moron, to boot. Walter scowled at the thought and turned away from the drawer, moving the cigarette in his mouth. He took it from his lips and slipped it back into the package in his pocket, and then opened the front door. It closed behind him.
….
….
Walter sat on a concrete structure that surrounded a planted tree and a few flowers that burst with color in the sunlight. He supposed the structure was meant to double as a bench as he was aware of the friction smoothed corners and edges. A 'Guest' badge glinted in the light while the man sat quietly with one leg crossed over the other, eyes fixed on the open door that emitted a cacophony of children's voices. They were gathering their things, preparing for the bell that would set them loose upon the land. Walter couldn't see any of the students, but he could see part of the whiteboard and the teacher's desk at the front corner of the room. The woman didn't notice him as she spoke to her students, hurrying before the bell would send them running out the door.
"And don't forget…"
Biiiiing!
The bell cut off her reminder and children poured out of the classroom followed by pairs of more obedient students that had stopped to listen to the woman. Walter waited, looking at the little faces, waiting for his nephew to appear. Vlad materialized suddenly in the doorway, his head down, watching his steps. He split off from the stream of children to head in a different direction. His back was to Walter, missing the man completely. Walter frowned, surprised by the development. He stood and followed the shorter steps, turning the corner to find that Vlad was passing the after school pick up crowd the other children had immediately dissolved into. Only a few children were making their way towards the sidewalk to go home on foot. Walter paused, and then ducked into the office to turn in the useless 'Guest' badge. He emerged, going in the direction he knew the boy had taken. Kids traveled in packs, giggling and joking together as they walked home. Or maybe they were going somewhere else? Walter didn't know, and he didn't care. He only looked at them because of his faint interest to know how other grade school children behaved and interacted with one another. Otherwise, his eyes were searching for the black mop of hair that belonged to his nephew. He turned at the end of the border of black fencing that enclosed the school and saw, down the sidewalk shadowed by trees and the beginning of a street-long line of shoulder touching buildings…there was his nephew, walking by himself. None of the other children had turned at the corner. They had crossed the street with the crossing guard holding up a stop sign to assure them safe passage.
He followed the figure until it disappeared, going into an alley. Walter hung back to preserve his secrecy, but was able to watch as the boy unzipped his backpack and rummaged through some loose papers, selecting the ones he would crinkle up into balls and throw into a trashcan. Then the child hitched his bag onto his back and strolled down the sidewalk. Walter glanced at the trashcan, but didn't bother himself with touching it. He knew what the boy had been doing, or he at least had a good idea of what papers his nephew had thrown away. Following the boy again, they managed to travel down a few blocks before Vlad diverged from his path once more and disappeared into a side alley. When Walter reached it, however, the boy had disappeared.
Bemused, Walter peered around in the gloom before giving up and making his way home on his own.
…
…
…
The sound of muffled voices…and then nothing again.
It was always so quiet. When would his nephew be coming home?
…
…
*~*~::..+..::~*~*
Can a man in a coma dream?
"Can my uncle dream?"
The nurse that was leaving the sterilized and overbearingly plain room stopped by the open door and looked back over her shoulder at the teen that had his eyes on the man in the bed. Months without sunshine, Walter's gaunt skin still managed to hold more color than Vlad's. The boy's appearance had alarmed the nurse as she had never observed such a severe genetic skin defect before or such brilliant blood-red eyes. But the question was soft, a voice that belonged to a human being. It warmed her to a state of compassion and she smiled. "I see no reason why he can't dream."
Her smile lingered on the boy a moment longer as he continued to stand and watch his uncle. He wanted privacy, she realized, so she quietly exited the room and closed the door behind her. Once she was gone, a pale hand delved into the teen's pocket.
Vlad had observed the multitude of holiday decorations twinkling throughout the hospital, teeming with visitors that had come to see their friends or loved ones on Christmas morning. They had brought gifts and their own decorations to cheer up the patient they were visiting. His uncle couldn't appreciate any gifts or decorations in his state, but Vlad pulled out the Christmas tree ornament despite this, and hung it on the IV stand next to the man's bed. It made a shitty Christmas tree, but it was okay at getting rid of some of the plain room's depressing atmosphere. Vlad was able to smile at the man when the ornament rocked back and forth on the stand. The teen brought a chair to the bed and sat in it.
"Merry Christmas Uncle." The grin became awkward for only a moment before joy made it into a real smile, and the red eyes sparked with light as he watched the man. "It's been raining tons, enough to flood the whole city. I'm expecting to see Noah's Ark come sailing through the streets sometime soon. You like rain, don't you Uncle? Or you don't really have favorites. You like everything and dislike everything too. It's funny, kinda. But I don't mean anything bad by that, don't get mad… It's just raining a lot, even right now, on Christmas. I didn't get you a present, though. When you can sit up and open your eyes to look at it, then I'll get you something, or I'll make something again. That okay?" The smile filled the boy's face and he looked down at his lap and moved his hand over his thigh, thinking.
"Y'know, Jack-bean's doing good…pretty well for himself with the cars and stuff. He has a nice place to himself. Still has his rats. Saw Esmeralda yesterday, and I fed her popcorn and stuff. Her ears are nice and soft…hm." The eyes flicked up to the man, but did not focus on his gauntness or pale skin, only his form and the face the boy's memory constructed, broadening the smile. Hands squeezed the teen's knees. "I made a new friend." He broke out laughing. "Ah, I sound like a stupid little kid still, right? Hope I'm not annoying you, cuz it's not fair…you can't leave the room or tell me to shut up…" Eyes dropped to Vlad's lap and the smile faded. "His name's Alex…Alexander Anderson, a football player from my school. Plays quarterback, or something. Not sure, I've never really been interested in school spirit or the sports there. His season's over now, I think…so yeah." Vlad stretched his arm and then moved it over his mouth to cover an odd yawn. His hands slapped onto his thighs. The boy directed his eyes to the curtain that glowed blue from the light outside. Shadows would dot and dribble down it, mimicking the rain that was hitting the glass. "I went to his house and stuff. His mom is Chief Anderson, but it's okay, she's cool. She could've arrested me a lot of times…she knows I'm in a gang…she caught me after a fight… But she's cool…and I'm not going to tell her anything. She cooked me dinner. She made shark…yeah, shark. That was pretty freaken badass food." He chuckled and glanced at the man, expecting him to laugh, and then lost the expectation. "I played for them, Anderson and the Chief. They're…I like them. I think you'd like 'em too. The Chief's kinda like you, but, you know, a lot different and a lot more female." Vlad smiled to himself, recalling the time he had spent with the Andersons. Then he remembered Anderson's most recent visit and how angry he had been. The smile was gone and the eyes dimmed. "I've finally realized that I'm a complete and total dumbass, Uncle. I messed up and got myself in trouble. It wasn't as bad as it could've been, though. Still got all my digits, nothin' cut off, nothing broken. Just bruises and a few little cuts. I got off easy, I think. But I don't think…Jack-bean was a little…about it… And I made up some stuff cuz Jake came to the Chief's house and got me, because I was there, Chief took me there and I slept over…well, I said I had left without saying goodbye or thanking them…because I was bored and that pissed Anderson off, and now his family hates me. But, whatever. I had to do it, you know…had to, no choice, dumbass thing to let it happen at all, though. Dumbass thing…" Vlad's chin touched his chest as he slouched in the chair, gazing at nothing. "I'm a real jackass, Uncle, and I don't want to be one. I don't like to be a dumb jackass, but I am. I piss off everyone and make them all worry, when I'm not worth worrying over. And I call Anderson an ass all the time, when I'm the real ass." It was quiet as the wind picked up, slamming the rain into the glass and howling faintly over the edges of the building. Vlad blinked a few times, focusing his vision as he took his hands from his legs and dragged them into the pocket on his sweatshirt. It was a little damp from the rain that had hit him on his way into the hospital. His hood, which was covering his head, was still a bit damp as well. A cough came and Vlad turned around with a jerk to keep it away from his uncle. His throat stung afterwards, and he remained sitting in the chair at an angle to keep his breath away form the man. "I feel lousy, Uncle. Not the coughing or anything, that's nothing, just annoying. But I just feel lousy. I-I…"
Vlad choked and turned around to stare at the door and the head that poked inside. The woman's eyes widened with a blush on her cheeks and she stammered an apology before shutting the door. "So sorry! Wrong room…!"
Vlad stared at the door and then fixed his position in the chair, again reminded of how bland and quiet the room was. He looked at the hanging tree ornament to make himself happier. Pale lips were bitten cruelly when Vlad blinked a few times, hating the fact that the ornament just made him want to cry. But he wasn't going to let himself be reduced to a crying pansy. He wasn't gonna let it happen. Never. So he bit his lip, which was already split in two different places, and blood tainted his mouth with iron. He swallowed while his hands came to grip his knees as he bent over. Drops of water splattered onto the tiles between his shoes and on the jeans he was wearing.
Stupid fucking Christmas. It should all burn in Hell, every last God damned Christmas tree and fuckin' elf out there. Fuck Christmas…he hated it. It made you too damn lonely.
Tears dripped down the boy's nose as blood slipped over his chin and mixed with the water that had fallen onto the floor. The first shaking sob came and filled the room as the rain fell harder outside.
*~*~::..+..::~*~*
Vlad thought he had done it because he wanted to walk home in the rain, that's why he had told Jake not to bother picking him up, he'd take a cab. A cab, where the hell would he find money for a cab? Jake was so stupid sometimes, it was funny. That's why he liked Jake. He was funny, like a clown, like Anderson…aw fuck. Screw Anderson and Jack-bean and Christmas and Hell. His socks were soaked through and he could feel water move around like tiny oceans in his converse. It had seeped in through the cloth and the ringed holes on the sides of his shoes. Whoever designed these shoes were freaken retarded, no offense to the mentally disabled. But Vlad couldn't understand why, after years of being in use, WHY nobody had made them WATER PROOF. Goddamn motherf… Stupid idiots.
But he didn't really care that his shoes squelched as he walked or that his sweatshirt clung to him like freaken plastic wrap or something. His hair and clothes were plastered to his skin, only his jeans had a hard time sticking to his flesh. They were too baggy.
The rain was falling and cars splashed the boy when they dashed through puddles and the river of rain water running along the side of the curb.
He was soaked and he was cold, but it felt good, for some reason, so he didn't care that the cars were drenching him with dirty rain water. He just didn't care.
The boy trudged through puddles that managed to collect on the water darkened sidewalk, walking block after block, making his way home. The wind howled and a chill caught his frame, playing with his nerves and tingling his spine with convulsing shocks. He shivered without noticing. The dripping tree that grew near the stairs could be seen across the swamp of slushy grass. He skirted the building and reached the stairs. There the roof covered him, so the absence of rain managed to jolt his senses with the loss of the familiar sensation of continually falling droplets landing on his sweatshirt. The wind hit him from behind, freezing his clothes until he figured that they had turned to ice, and the sky moaned as the trees seen over the ledge of the walkway, at the top of the stairs, creaked, threatening to fracture into pillars of splinters. But all of this went unnoticed by the boy's senses in a moment of nerve numbing surprise. He could not hear the wind or feel its chilled fingers dig into his skin and run up his spine. The red gaze stared at the tall figure wearing an elegant red trench coat that fluttered because of the weather, about the man's shins. His skin was light, only given some additional coloring because of the influence of sun it appeared to be accustomed to feeling, his hair was blonde but with a reddish tint that kept it from being golden, and cobalt blue eyes shone with the blaze of electric fire, though the face was lined heavily with age. Vlad stared at the stranger and the stranger stared back at him, analyzing the story the wind whipped hair and soaked clothes told. There were others that seemed to pull themselves from the old man's form, detaching as they appeared and watched the dripping teen. Pure gold swathed the tan face as the wind swirled through the walkway, and then it was blown behind the woman again as a hand brushed it aside. There were two others, one that was taller than the old man, and a curvy figure wrapped in a pink raincoat that glistened from the light emitted by the buzzing light bulb protruding from the wall.
It was the Anderson family…as blonde as ever…
"Vladimir, you're soaking wet. Where have you been? Wandering around out in the rain again?"
Vlad didn't move, frozen by this surreal situation. Integra was already walking towards him, and then Seras edged closer as well, while the old man and Anderson hung back and merely watched as water dripped from the pale boy's face and streamed steadily from parts of his clothing.
They weren't supposed to be here…it was like having Jake go to their house. They were separate worlds; they shouldn't be able to overlap. He felt the wet, heavy clothes weighing him down and his face twitched with horror. He hadn't allowed himself to get wet to have people see him like this and pity him. He had done it with the intention of hiding it, of keeping it to himself, to enjoy the damp and cold feeling, not for pity, not for sympathy. His stomach knotted as the woman approached and stretched out her hand. He jerked and avoided the touch, glaring warily at the floor and then glancing the look over the humans before him. The look told them to go away, if they were actually real and not a dream, before the boy spoke quietly, bristling at the sound of his own growl.
"Leave." They stared at him, none of the eyes leaving his figure. He bent his head, darkening his features as he narrowed the glare. "Go away. I don't want you here."
Integra watched the boy and her eyes also narrowed. She was frowning, toughening her expression to combat the red glare. "We've been waiting for a while, Vladimir. We'd very much appreciate it if you'd join us for dinner."
Vlad stared at her, but his eyes were relaxing as his muscles clenched his jaw instead. "You're ruining your Christmas…to invite me to eat dinner with you?" He questioned, reading the blue gazes and then the green. "I thought you were mad at me."
"I'm not stupid enough to believe the bull you sent my son home with." A sharp voice cut back, demanding to have the red eyes again. Integra was stiff and authoritative, watching the boy as her arms crossed. A dullness passed over her eyes and then burned away. Water was still pouring from the black sweatshirt as if it contained all of the seven seas in its swollen threads. Damn. The kid looked a wreck. His face was blue where the bruises were obvious as they registered in the woman's eyes when she focused on what the hood was attempting to hide. His hands were hidden in his pockets, but she had noticed that his fingernails had turned purplish blue with cold, and as he stood there, he began to shift around as the cold and wet began to affect him. She wasn't sure, but she thought she could see him shiver.
Integra scowled, conscious of what her children were also observing. This was something that made one doubt humanity. "You're going to eat dinner with us and change your clothes. I can't ignore a puppy when it's hungry and shivering in the rain."
"I'm not your dog." Vlad leveled his voice so that it was low and deep with disdain or annoyance. He looked at the face calmly, wiping his mind clear of emotion and complicated thought. He just needed to get in his room and lock the door. Then it would be over and he would be free to do whatever he wanted. Just get to the door…his body angled as if to slide past the blondes along the wall, to reach to his room. But Integra moved to the wall, discouraging him. Seras copied her, closer to the door. Even Anderson had taken a step towards the wall. Vlad glowered at them rebelliously and took another step forward, coming close enough to touch Integra if he wanted to. Red wouldn't look at her, secretly mortified to find that she had a better view of his clothes and face right now. "Go away…this is illegal, right? Harassment. I'll call the cops."
Even though you don't have a phone and would sooner die than have police officers near your apartment. Integra's teeth grated as she stared intently at a bruise shadowed eye. "You're coming with me Vladimir…or I'll get a warrant to search your room." She added quietly.
Red flashed at her, outraged as a ripple flowed through the pale lips. "Are you threatening me now, Chief?"
Tan features tightened. Their voices were low and she doubted that the others could hear them well enough to know what they were saying. "I'm doing this for your own good, Vladimir."
The teen's face lost its expression, and then sneered at Integra, shocking her eyes into widening at the twisted humor that composed his smirk. It was full of hate and ironic, depraved amusement. "Is it for my own good, Chief? Or do you feel like playing the hero, the good guy, the sympathetic cop? You want to rescue a little lost puppy to pet and cuddle. Oh, so cute." The smirk stretched into a mocking quiet chuckle. He saw the wide blue eyes and blank features, but he didn't care. He couldn't feel anything right now…he couldn't think…a voice was speaking through him, never reaching the phase of an unspoken thought. His teeth flashed in a wicked smile as a step brought him closer to passing the woman. "I'm not a cute little puppy, Chief. I'm a rabid stray…so you'd better leave me the fuck alone, before something goes wrong." Vlad smiled when he slipped past Integra and gazed easily upon the confused features of her daughter as he readied to go around her. Instead, he gasped when a hand gripped the back of his sweatshirt and slammed him into the wall, forcing the side of his face to touch the ungiving structure. A pained hiss shot from his teeth, but the shock cleared his mind, widening his eyes. He didn't move as his eyes flicked to the wall, the door, Seras, the trees beyond the end of the walkway; moving without focusing on anything. A deep growl bled through the thickness of his hood, by his ear.
"You can't use empty threats against me. You're a pathetic child and nothing else, Vladimir. I will dictate what you can do and where you can go. I will take you home. You will be the hungry little pup that you are. You will not threaten me, my family, or my children, again."
Limp with shock, Vlad eyes dilated, blurring his vision as he felt the rough wall dent impressions into his cheek and irritate the red scratches left on his brow from the night he had spent in the parking garage. Integra released the teen and the boy slid for a moment before catching himself and straightening. He pulled away from the wall, standing and watching the eyes around him. None of the windows were occupied by his neighbors, at least.
The Andersons' watched his empty look and his wide, observing eyes. Integra softened with a small sigh, lifting a hand to clasp the teen's shoulder. It flinched under her fingers and Vlad's face went to her with evident caution. She only nodded and patted the wet shoulder. "Come along, Vladimir. We're going." The woman was pleased when the boy followed her quietly as she walked towards the stairs. The others trailed behind them.
The sound of dull thuds lifted Vlad's eyes to the stairs. He noticed the dark cane that made the sound as the old man carefully picked his way down the steps. Vlad moved to the side to let Seras pass him, so he could help the old man, but Seras stopped beside him, thinking that he was trying to sneak back to his room, while the wizened blue eyes of the cane bearing man sparked with hostility. Vlad blinked and then chose to descend the rest of the stairs to follow Integra's lead.
The grass squished when he cut across a length of the lawn to continue on the concrete path that bordered the building and took them to a cramped parking lot. He saw Anderson's car and wondered, grimly, how they would all fit into it. Someone would have to take the middle back seat…
Seras did, with her brother on her right while Vlad sat on her left looking out the window. The car was awkwardly silent and Vlad felt the old man in the passenger seat stare at him in the rear view mirror. He caught the reflection's eyes and held them, curiosity starting to emerge. It seemed to interest the man that the boy wasn't looking away, and his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Vlad broke the quiet as his curiosity displaced his uneasiness. The teen spoke with a straight, slightly guarded, face.
"So you're Grandpa Anderson?"
All eyes, but Integra's and the pair that was already watching Vlad, went to him. Seras was having trouble finding her voice, so Anderson responded to the stated question with a low murmur. "His last name isn't Anderson."
Vlad let his gaze flick over Seras to see the green eyes. Anderson was still being pissy, he figured. Vlad blinked and returned to his staring contest with the old man. Normally, he would have smiled and cracked a joke of some kind, but he wasn't in the mood. His eyes…and his features were too heavy to smile. "Do you have a name old man?"
"Vladimir." Integra's warning made Vlad jump a little and he looked away from the mirror to stare at the seat in front of him.
The was a pause.
"So, Grandpa is here for Christmas? Are you staying in that room by the laundry room?"
Talking was not something Vlad really wanted to do, but he was close to squirming under the pressure of the odd quiet that came after…something as awkward as what had just happened. The first impression he'd made on the old man had been utter crap. He just wanted the old guy to say something. When the man remained mute, Vlad licked his lips and wished that he was in his room, away from the stares that were burning into him. He rubbed his hands as he laid his arms on his legs, but sat up when he realized the position was uncomfortably invasive of Integra's personal space. The car felt claustrophobic, in Vlad's opinion. "You don't mind if I call you Grandpa? I'll call you whatever you want, but Chief, Female Anderson, and Anderson are already taken. I don't really like to call people by their names. Gotta have a nickname. Everyone has a nickname…mine's Vlad."
If the old man didn't speak now, Vlad was going to give up and curl into a ball of condensed humiliation. He looked like the Chief…so he must be her father. That revelation shot his eyes to the mirror, to the blue orbs that reflected in it. "You're the Chief's dad? Good job."
Integra scoffed or spluttered while surprise widened the cobalt blue in the mirror. The first hint of amusement crinkled the old man's eyes, deepening the creases that always marked them.
"Vlad…" A voice on the other side of Seras muttered in disbelief. Red met green and Anderson almost smirked but looked away instead. "…you're a piece of work."
Vlad paused and then frowned, looking at the blue eyes in the mirror and then Anderson. "Is that a good thing? Kinda hard to tell when you start talking in code."
"Don't know." Anderson couldn't suppress a snort. Seras was a little ruffled, but she eased back into her comfort zone and smiled at Vlad, causing him to stiffen a bit and then turn to face forward and watch the mirror. The old guy staring at him for all this time without saying anything, was really bothering him now.
"Hi." He spoke to the mirror. The old man was amused again when he noticed how he was affecting the delinquent. Vlad dropped his eyes to his lap with a mutter that said nothing. But his eyes widened and his breath caught when he realized how much water had collected around him. If it weren't for the stitching on the seats, Seras would be sitting in a puddle as well…and it looked like she might be by the time they got to the Andersons' house. He forgot about the blue eyes that were still watching him as he bit his lip and looked at the siblings, hesitating. He released his lip. "Anderson, you don't happen to have a towel anywhere? You might want to save your leather seats…since I'm not going to be paying you anything for ruining them."
Anderson looked at him and then his soaked clothes while Seras discretely shifted away from the threatening water. The jock leaned over and dug around under his grandfather's seat and then drew out a dirty old towel. He threw it at Vlad with a hint of a smirk. "I think it's clean. Just a bit stiff."
Vlad caught it and felt what Anderson was talking about. He scowled and dropped it unceremoniously onto the puddle. "Sweaty old football towel…great. Thanks a ton, fat ass."
"You're welcome."
Vlad's face twitched with disgust as he imagined the dried sweat melting into the puddle that surrounded him. He moved away from it and growled in frustration. "Absolutely disgusting. Fat ass-sweat." He made a gagging sound that got Anderson to laugh while his sister smiled with a soft chuckle. Red went to Seras with a frown. He lifted the cloth up a bit. "You want some of this?"
The girl's face blanched and she held up her hands, ready to push it away or slap the boy. "No. Get it away from me."
Vlad smirked at Anderson as he dropped the towel again. "See, you're gross." Anderson scowled back at him. Seras giggled a little during the intermission.
"You're one to talk about cleanliness, boy."
The Walter-like reference to him made Vlad's eyes dart to the blue in the mirror. He stared at the eyes and part of the old face he could see. A sudden smile lit his face, distracting the man. "Hey, you think your room's nice and clean right? It's freaken amazing, because I cleaned it." The boy smugly crossed his arms and chuckled at the blank expression. "I'm a soap junky. A packet of free Tide, ah, that's my cocaine." He chuckled devilishly to himself when Integra growled in disapproval.
"Not funny." She frowned upon her father when he chuckled. Vlad was delighted when he succeeded in making the old man show this much humor, and he laughed along with him.
"Naw, Chief, it was loads funny. Anderson, you should pick up some humor tips from me since you've been such a sucky clown lately. The only funny thing about you right now is your fat ass and your occasional sarcasm."
"I'm not fat, runt."
"Funny." Vlad got Seras to laugh at Anderson's sulking mumbles. It was as if the rain was gone and the silence had never existed.
The old man sitting next to his daughter continued to watch the pale red eyed boy, pensively. The boy, as had been mentioned to him, was supposedly a gangster. He looked the part, but he didn't speak like one. His pronunciation was oddly crisp sometimes. 'Occasional sarcasm' and other words caught the man as being off for a young gangster to use. Not to mention that he was pretty malleable under his daughter's hand. Integra was the Chief of police with a wide area under her jurisdiction and this…delinquent, a.k.a. criminal, was easily interacting with her kids and listened to her and let her push him around. Vlad was a few inches taller than Integra, and the old man was not naïve enough to assume that malnourishment would do anything to reduce the physical threat presented by a street-wise thug. His grandson would be able to handle his own, but Seras, no, not even with the self defense training her mother had drilled into her. And Integra…without pepper spray, a tazer, or the dissuading presence of her gun, would have some trouble if the boy wanted to harm her. But he had let the woman push him into a wall and then had done nothing about it afterwards. What influence did this family have over the boy?
"Hey, Grandpa, how long are you staying?"
The pale teen was smiling at the mirror. Blue observed, never wavering. "One more day."
"So, until tomorrow? Cool."
Seras and Anderson were talking while Vlad was quiet, listening contently. The boy was interesting, the blue decided and then picked up on a stifled cough. The cough returned, intensified, as the hacking sound passed through the sleeve Vlad had over his mouth. The siblings stopped and commented, 'that doesn't sound good' only to have Vlad grin and wave his hand as if offended.
"Really? I thought it sounded fantastic…music to my ears."
"It sounded like you were hacking up a lung, Vlad." Anderson stated impassively, the humor going straight to Vlad's smile. The jokes continued and the cough was forgotten.
"Vladimir, why were you walking around in the rain?" Integra's voice overwhelmed any other conversation that was taking place. The car became quiet. Vlad watched his hands in his lap, playing with his fingers.
"Jus' went to visit my uncle, Chief. It's Christmas, you know?"
It was quiet again.
"The hospital is a pretty long walk from your apartment…and it's been raining all day." Integra's lips tightened as they were drawn into a thin line. Vlad didn't answer right away, and he only responded when his eyes had been turned to the window for a few seconds.
"I got a ride with Jake in the morning when visiting hours started."
Integra ignored her distain for the familiarity between the man and the boy, for now. "And he didn't give you a ride home?"
"I told him I didn't need one. Told him I'd get a cab or something."
"And you didn't."
"No. I wanted to go for a walk in the sunshine, Chief, to get some fresh air. The smog does wonder's for your respiratory system. Almost as good as a cigarette."
The boy didn't smell like smoke, so those listening assumed it was a joke, similar to the one made about cocaine. Integra didn't have anything else she wanted to say in the car, so the siblings began to talk while Vlad contributed or listened quietly as the car drove through the storm.