pullsneedles | (no subject)

(no subject)

Somehow Lucas manages to get a room for himself. It's not too elaborate, very much like the home he doesn't remember he had. He's curled up on the simple bed, hugging a blue pillow.

If he's going to feel alone, he might as well be alone.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lucas nods a little.

"I remember Mom," he says. "I couldn't remember anythin' besides Milliways when I woke up, but I remember her now. I remember her dying."

Autor winces. "What a memory to come back to," he murmurs. "Do you remember anything else aside from that and Milliways?"

"Some other things're comin' back."

He turns as if he's gonna go back into his room, but then he goes, "Y'can come in an' we can talk here if you want."

That offer made, Lucas steps back inside.

"I thought I just lived here, but that isn't right, is it? There was somewhere else. Someone named Gavroche wanted me t'cheer up an' it reminded me of how they talk. What they were like after Mom died."

Autor stills, frowning. He steps inside the room and closes the door. "You really don't remember anything," he says to himself. "You used to live in a place called Tazmily."

Edited 2014-03-21 21:53 (UTC)

"Tazmily," he repeats. "An' I guess people wanted to be happy there, even when sad things happen."

Lucas picks the blue pillow up from the bed and fiddles with it.

"Mom an' I lived there. I s'ppose I had a father there, too. An' the Dark Dragon said I kept sheep."

"You had a brother, too," Autor says gently, "by the name of Claus."

"Claus?"

Lucas closes his eyes, trying to picture a brother. He doesn't have much luck on his own. But when he opens his eyes again, he's found himself in front of the small mirror on the wall. His arms tighten around the pillow and he puts his face down in it.

"Claus had- He's-"

He can't bring himself to say it. He sinks to his knees and clutches the pillow as tightly as he held his brother, sobbing.

Autor panics for a moment, reaching for him and then drawing back. He snags a blanket off the bed and drapes it around Lucas' shoulders, kneeling down next to him.

Autor rubs his arms through the blanket, trying to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

"The whole time..." Lucas chokes out in hiccoughing sobs. "Claus was th' Masked Man the whole time... I could've- could've stopped it. Could've helped him."

"I don't know that you could have," Autor says, patting his back. "He was..."

The boy shakes his head, frowning at his lack of information about the situation. "He may have been beyond help."

Lucas gasps for air, wheezing as he cries.

"They- they made him a chimera," he says as best he can. "They made Claus a chimera. They put metal parts in him."

His hand wrings the pillow some.

"How could they? How could they do that to my brother?"

"Because Porky was cruel," he says quietly. He wanted a perfect soldier, and so he made one. "It doesn't make sense to people who aren't as spiteful as he was."

Lucas leans on Autor, unable to find anymore words as he cries for Claus.

And Autor holds the grieving boy, drawing the blanket more tightly around him.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only