Chapter Three: Meet the Neighbors

Just outside his front door – right after he'd locked it – Spike realized he'd somehow turned up his smartphone's volume when he'd rubbed the screen so vigorously. Or maybe he was just so tense and scared that he was listening too hard. Either way, as the phone reeled off its next instruction, Spike winced. That was going to be a bundle of fun all the way to the convenience store; much as he wanted to turn the volume down, he was terrified that he'd accidentally turn off the navigation if he tried.

So the raven grit his teeth and adjusted his stance, carefully stretching out the white cane in his right hand. Gingerly, he tapped it against the ground, trying to remember how blind people in the movies always navigated – Healer Queenscove and Kadie had taught him the basics when they'd given him the white cane, but he hadn't had to practice since then, not with his friends' care and vigilance protecting him from every possible obstacle outside his apartment.

He didn't regret that care – how could he – but now that he was out alone, by himself, Spike wished he'd gotten some practice and experience while his friends were around. The lean man glanced around, hoping for a glimmer of magic to light his way, but there was nothing save deep shadow. With no alternative, the blind man squeezed his eyes shut and focused as hard as he could on what he could hear. The cane tapped against the ground as he started forward.

"Take five steps forward and turn left."

Spike jumped right out of his skin, mentally cursing up a storm at how loud the phone was. Nervous and jittery, he fought to balance his attention between the tapping of his cane and the navigation instructions. Five steps forward turned into eight, nine, ten as he stumbled along, each step a sneaking cringe into the unknown. Though he kept moving, the walk turned into a shuffle as he remembered there was a set of stairs relatively close to his apartment, right out in the open for any unsuspecting blind man to tumble down.

The phone had just blared out its next instruction when the hair on the back of Spike's neck prickled with the sense of being watched. He ducked his head and turned right as he'd been instructed. The cane in his hand dangled, no longer tapping the ground as he reached out, hoping to feel the nearby wall under his fingers.

He took one step forward, still reaching for the wall. But as he began to take another, a high boyish voice rang out. "Mister, stop!"

Instinct froze him in place just as surely as if that voice had belonged to a member of his team. Automatically, Spike opened his eyes, turning his head towards the voice and squinting as if that would force the blackness away. For an instant, there was nothing, then a trace of emerald appeared, outlining a small form hurrying towards him. He wondered if the mystery person had magic, but something deep inside whispered – it was his magic he was seeing. That didn't mean the mystery person was a pure techie, though; Spike knew his core was too damaged to know for sure either way.

As soon as the small form reached him, he felt a hand on his elbow, tugging backwards insistently. A child's hand; one brow went up behind the black sunglasses even as Spike allowed the child to tow him, though his phone squawked a protest, insisting that he make an immediate U-turn.

Once he'd backed up a step or two, the tugging stopped; Spike turned towards the child, tipping down his sunglasses enough for his raised brow to be seen. There was a moment of silence, then the child huffed. "You almost fell down the stairs, Mister."

The other brow went up – if he'd been that close to the stairs, his phone would've warned him. Right? He was pretty sure it was supposed to warn him about stairs…one of those little magical perks they'd never known about till they needed it.

The little boy huffed again, then the emerald glimmer around him stilled, right before reaching out and grabbing his white cane. Spike was about to jerk the cane back when the boy maneuvered it out in front of them and tapped it against something.

It was the raven's turn to go still as he listened. The taps against the floor had been dull. Irregular thuds – though he wasn't sure if his apartment building had wooden floors or concrete. This…this had the faint ring of metal. And it came from just a bit lower than the other sounds had been. Focusing in on the white cane, Spike slid the sunglasses back in place, silently begging his magic to outline the object. He needed to see.

For a moment, nothing happened, then his magic lit up the darkness of his world, racing along the length of the white cane, all the way down to its tip. Spike stiffened as he realized the tip was lower than his feet; impossible unless the child was right and he'd been about to take a header down the stairs. A flush crept up the back of his neck – he'd been so convinced his phone would warn him that he stopped using the cane he wasn't sure how to use anyway.

"Take eight steps forward and turn right."

He winced, both at the volume and the confirmation that his phone wasn't programmed to tell him about stairs. Abruptly, the boy next to him released his cane and reached up, grabbing his phone free from its clip on his belt. Even as he turned his head, protest rising, the boy prodded the phone's side buttons, nodded satisfaction, and put the phone right back on Spike's belt.

"There you go, Mister. Volume's down."

The flush on his neck shot upwards, coloring cheeks and ears. Tense, frightened, and highly embarrassed, Spike took a step away from the child and mumbled, "Thanks." Even to his own ears, it sounded sullen instead of thankful – the manners his Mamá had taught him all his life shrilled their own objection to his ingratitude.

Ashamed of himself, Spike opened his mouth to apologize and thank the boy properly, but the child was already fleeing – emerald magic traced the way his head was down and Spike cringed at the tiny sniffle he heard as the young boy fled.

"That boy," another voice grumbled. "Always causing trouble – nothing like his brother." Spike turned his head the other way, towards the newcomer; behind black sunglasses, his eyes narrowed. The owner of the voice stopped in front of him – emerald revealed a woman's form and how she was crossing her arms as she tisked at his rescuer. "Take my advice and move on, sir," she said. "Don't pay that Schubaltz boy any mind."

With that, she preceded Spike down the steps, never offering him even a smidgeon of the help 'that Schubaltz boy' had. Spike fingered the white cane in his hands, wishing he hadn't let his own embarrassment get the better of him. He glanced over, towards the hallway that his little rescuer had retreated to, but heaved a sigh, knowing he'd never be able to find the apartment where the child lived. Aside from being blind, he hadn't tried to get to know any of his neighbors.

It took a great deal of finagling and many anxious steps into the unknown, but between his white cane and the fact that his magic was cooperating a little more, Spike was able to get down the two flights of stairs without falling or cracking his head open. Wary and wishing he hadn't chased his rescuer – possible helper – off, Spike made his way through the door at the bottom of the stairwell, stepping outside of his apartment building on his own for the very first time.

Behind his black sunglasses, Spike automatically squinted, then felt his shoulders slump down. He didn't know if it was sunny or cloudy – he couldn't see. Why was he squinting when all was darkness anyway?

"Walk four steps forward and turn right," his phone instructed, its volume much better than it had been before.

Taking a deep breath, Spike stretched his white cane out in front of him and swept it back and forth to check for any obstacles. Gingerly, he took one step, then another, concentrating on keeping his steps in sync with the movement of his cane. The phone's instructions settled into the background, a cadence to follow as he took step after step in his darkened world. As long as he followed the directions – and didn't encounter any more stairs – Spike knew he could focus on learning how to use his long white cane.

The first time he felt the cane's tip bump against something, he halted, fiercely summoning up his magic as he struggled to see what he was facing. His eyes burned, but after a few seconds, emerald obligingly outlined a circular metal handrail; his cane had bumped one of the posts. Exhaling, Spike reached out with his free hand and let the handrail guide him along with his cane until he ran out of handrail. It hurt when he lost that sure guide, but he couldn't let that stop him – not with his stomach growling and his canine instincts humming in the background.

The second obstacle proved to be harder – a gate that led out of his apartment complex's grounds and out into the rest of the world. Spike was forced to battle with the gate for almost a minute as it resisted his efforts to swing it open, but at last, it gave way and he was able to step outside – he cringed when it swung closed, missing his arm by millimeters.

For a long moment, he simply stood there, straining to see the world around him as he turned his head this way and that. Then his phone piped up with its next direction and the raven returned his attention to the white guide in his hand. Grimly focused, he stretched it out again and began to sweep it back and forth, stepping forward into its arc as he began his long, laborious trek to the nearby convenience store.

"You have arrived at your destination."

Spike exhaled pure relief as he worked with the door in front of him. It took a few tries before he figured out whether he needed to push or pull as well as which way it needed to swing, but at last, he managed to get inside.

As he stood inside the small, humble store, a thrill danced up his back – he'd made it. He managed to make it all the way from his apartment to a store – without any help. Well, almost any, he corrected, remembering his little rescuer. Chagrin licked at him and his shoulders wilted. Where once he'd thrilled in conquering the latest security systems, secure in the knowledge that he could always get his teammates in where they needed to be, now he was reduced to this. Celebrating a simple, stupid trip to the nearest convenience store.

How pathetic was that?

Author Note: Happy Friday to one and all!

Although it may seem like one step forward, two steps back for poor Spike, he's on the upslope. Still a long ways to go, but he just crossed a big hurdle - going to a store himself rather than depending on his friends to do all his shopping for him.

No real updates for Small Beginnings this week. I'm going to give it until June-ish to get feedback from my Beta Readers, then I'll see about a developmental edit from my story coach.

As always, I welcome all comments and reviews! If you feel so inclined, please let me know what you think.