Author's Note: I know nothing about painting. So I'm basically pulling all such painting information out of my ass, forgive me if I'm wrong. And if I'm right... well that's just good bs-ing on my part. *smirks*
Merrillian Part 1
"Heero?"
Catherine Barton stepped out of the school building, her backpack slung over her shoulder and purse in hand. The college campus around her was awash with students. They covered nearly every grass covered surface as the sun shone brightly overhead. She stepped down onto the walkway and glanced around, intent on finding her quarry. She didn't waste any time looking among the crowd of chatting and studying students since she knew he wouldn't be there. He'd never liked crowds, and even less so now.
No, she knew exactly where to find him.
Frowning softly to herself, she turned down the walkway and made her way around the main building. The college campus was pretty normal sized as college campuses went, and really had nothing noticeable about it that would make it stand out to anyone who happened to stop by. A mixture of old and new buildings dotted the campus, the owners trying their best to keep most of them intact despite the worn and grooved stairs, the lousy handicapped access and mismatched walls of old and replaced wood. The overall effect gave the campus an antique feel, with brand new buildings right next to ones that looked like they'd collapse in the next high wind, but of course they never did. And she had to admit that it gave the campus a strange kind of charm... once one got used to it.
Moving behind one of the older buildings, she crossed a full parking lot and glanced around quickly. The area near the river was off limits to all students due to liability issues, but no one ever listened to those rules. The trick was that she couldn't get caught, and she had no desire to get Heero in trouble either.
Once she'd made sure the coast was clear, she stepped over the old chain stretched over the path and started down the steep steps, her shoes clicking just slightly. She knew he could hear her from the bottom of the steps, and to a point she purposely didn't try to hide her steps so she didn't scare him. And sure enough, after making it to the bottom without incident or more than a few slips, she found the boy sitting on a large boulder, watching the river as it flowed by.
He sat there, his chin resting on his knees and his eyes glazed over, watching the water and the beautiful flower garden on the other side. The flowers were just starting to bloom and the artistically arranged color schemes were starting to make their way into sight. She smiled softly and stepped up next to him, joining him silently in watching the flowers and listening to the water. This far down near the water one couldn't hear the cars or the students above. It was the perfect atmosphere; exactly what Trowa used to like-
Catherine shook her head quickly and banished that thought. She glanced down at the one in front of her, but he hadn't moved, hadn't even acknowledged her presence yet.
"Earth to Heero," she said, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.
The ends of his mouth tilted slightly downward in a frown but that soon disappeared. He simply blinked and leaned back a bit, revealing that - as usual - he had his sketchbook with him. Catherine knew he'd been trying to think of something to draw. Smirking lightly, she reached forward and snatched away the sketchbook, dropping her purse near her feet. He looked up in surprise, showing he was still halfway in his brainstorming mist, because otherwise he would have been able to stop her.
"What are we drawing today?" She flipped through a few rough sketches she'd seen before. Meanwhile, he glanced back at the water and ran a hand through his unruly dark hair. His deep blue eyes blinked, regaining their complete focus as he banished whatever invisible muses had been whispering in his ear.
"Nothing," he murmured softly.
Catherine tossed him a disbelieving look and stopped as she turned to a new rough sketch. It was of a younger boy, sitting on the exact rock, gazing out across the water just as Heero was doing now. Except this boy had short hair in the back and bangs that fell across his face. Catherine smiled softly.
"He'll love it."
Heero nodded, and she knew he was happy to have her approval, even if he didn't show it.
She closed the sketchbook and handed it back to him. "Classes are over and you still look like you're spacin'. Want a ride?"
His eyebrow shot up in surprise and he finally turned his head to look at her, an amused expression on his face. In a second, the quietness of the scene around them seemed to melt away into a light atmosphere. It was unnerving how he was able to do that!
"And when did you get a car?" He asked, clearly amused.
"I didn't," she responded, leaning down to pick up her light green purse and brush it off. "But if we hurry we can catch the city bus back to your house." She smirked at him and nodded toward the stairs leading back up to the parking lot.
Heero just shook his head and let out a soft laugh. Standing up he stretched then jumped down off the boulder taking the lead up the stairs.
"You know Catherine, when you offer someone a ride that usually means you have a car."
"Says who?" She countered. "Besides I've seen you nearly every day of my life, do you honestly think I could buy a car and hide it from you?"
He reached the top and turned around to wait for her, this time an amused smirk covering his face. "No, you'd burst with excitement to tell me as soon as you got it."
"Would not!"
"You can't keep a secret and you know it!"
She snorted lightly and stepped past him, heading toward the bus stop. "Some day I'll show you, Yuy." She said in a mock-angry tone. "Some day I'll come across the biggest secret in and the world and you'll be the last one to know about it!"
He just shook his head and followed her to the bus, not even bothering to comment. She didn't really expect him to; it was moot point really. She knew she couldn't keep secrets, but at least she'd gotten him to smile for a bit, and that was what she really cared about. She hated seeing him so spacey and standoffish. He'd never been like this before everything happened, but a lot of things had changed since then.
Too many things had changed since that day they had found Trowa's hanging body in the basement, and Heero's demeanor was only one of the things. She'd changed a lot too; it was a huge deal having to learn how to live without her twin brother hanging around her. It had been like losing a limb, but he was so much more important to her than that. She'd lost half of herself, and Heero had lost one of his closest friends in the world. Not the same loss, but still a huge one.
So it fell to her to keep them both smiling, because that's what they'd always done with Trowa. She felt she owed it to her brother to help Heero be happy again. Heck, she owed it to Heero to help him; he was her close friend too after all.
She jumped slightly as she felt a hand rest on her shoulder and glanced over to see Heero offering her a small smile. He squeezed her shoulder lightly as the bus drove into view.
"I'm doing fine Catherine, don't worry."
She smiled warmly at him and nodded, stepping onto the bus. Both paid their quarters and took seats near the back as the bus pulled away from the stop.
"You?" He asked as the bus entered traffic.
"Better," she admitted. "Not back to normal, but getting there."
"Good enough."
And for her it was... least for now.
~*~
Heero took the mail from the box and slid it under one arm, then used the other to push the door open after fumbling with his keys and unlocking it. The mail was unceremoniously dropped on the kitchen table as he removed his shoes and kicked them out of the way into the corner with his father's extra pair.
The house around him was silent and dark, shadows covering nearly every corner. Dropping his backpack in the corner near his shoes, he moved through those shadows to the fridge, opening it to find a drink of some sort. Not to his surprise he was greeted with a post-it note taped to the almost-empty carton of juice. His father always liked to put the notes in strange places.
Heero didn't even have to read it to know what it said. In fact, the post-it note was quite old now. So old that it required a piece of tape to hold it in place. It was the same post-it note his father had used for a good couple of months to warn his son when he'd be home late. Heero took a drink from the juice carton and tossed it in the garbage, leaving the note sitting on the counter.
"You should really start leaving notes when you'll be home on time," he murmured softly.
Odin Lowe Yuy, Heero's father, worked at the city museum. It wasn't standard for the job to run overtime every night, but his father seemed to have this love for museums at night when most people would find them dark and spooky. As a result he slept late in the morning and worked until late at night, long past the time that everyone left. His coworkers were more the night security people then anyone else, and he appeared to like it that way.
The night owl attitude and preference for little amounts of people had rubbed off on his son so that Heero took comfort in the large empty house. He knew he loved the museum at night too when no one else was there. The times his father allowed him to come in and help that late were few and far between, but whenever they did pop up he enjoyed them immensely, even if his main interests leaned more toward painting and artwork rather than artifacts and bones.
Retrieving his backpack from where he'd dropped it, he made his way toward the stairs and climbed them, not even bothering to turn on any of the lights. Years of training and living in the same house enabled him to make his way to his bedroom in the very back of the house on the second floor without incident. In fact, the only thing that disturbed him was the small cat which decided to rub up against the side of his leg and follow him to his room from the top of the stairs, weaving in and out between his feet as he walked.
When he reached his room, he finally turned on the light and dropped to lay back on his bed, staring up at the vaulted ceiling in deep thought. His cat, Mimir, jumped up onto the bed without missing a beat and curled up next to him on the thick patchwork quilt. Heero smiled softly and rolled over to pet the cat.
He ran his fingers through the soft multi-colored tabby fur, watching the cat roll onto its back and purr happily. Trowa and Catherine had helped him name the cat when he'd received it from his father for his birthday. They'd all spent nearly a week arguing over cute names for the cat when Trowa finally had suggested Mimir, the name of the Norse god of wisdom and inspiration. It seemed to fit, since the cat always craved attention whenever Heero was brainstorming something to paint or sketch. So it stuck. And true to its name the cat always seemed to want to cuddle whenever Heero was trying to come up with some form of inspiration.
He smiled and laid his head next to the cat, smirking as one of the paws reached out to lightly bat his nose. Heero continued petting the soft fur and let his eyes drift shut. He knew his father wouldn't be home for a long while and he didn't have any homework left. So instead he set his mind on brainstorming. The anniversary of Trowa's death was coming up in a week and he'd decided he was going to paint a picture for him, even though he knew the other boy would never be able to see it. Still, he wanted to. It was just a matter of coming up with the right picture...
The one that he'd sketched of Trowa sitting on the rock might work, but he almost never went with his first idea. Instead, he let his eyes drift shut and his mind relax as he began to brainstorm.
Some of his best paintings came from his dreams, or so he and Catherine had always thought. In truth, he'd never gotten up enough nerve to take any classes in art or try to sell any of it or even show it to others besides those he knew really well for that matter. Painting was very personal for him, no matter how many times the others told him he could sell it easily.
Thoughts swirled around in his head, merging and melding with each other smoothly like the retreating ripples in a pond. It wasn't long before he drifted off into a light sleep, his hand resting on the kitten's back.
Trapped beneath that hand, Mimir decided to stay where she was and simply laid down her own head to sleep as well.
~*~
Darkness pooled around him, swirling over his head and around his body. He felt like he was floating, a small current pulling against his body. He struggled for a moment, trying to move his arms and reach out, or at least open his eyes, but his body didn't respond right away. His actions and thoughts felt fuzzy... muted, far away.
Slowly they did respond and his eyes slid open. He found he was indeed floating and that the strange current around him was stronger then he'd initially thought. Light in different muted hues sped past him on either side as his body floated through the air, an invisible force pulling him gently in a specific direction.
As strange as it was, he let himself be guided and didn't put up any resistance. He was curious what was going on but fully realized that whatever was happening it was a dream. He wanted the dream to continue, if nothing else then to satisfy his curiosity about where he was being pulled to. So he let himself be pulled, gliding smoothly toward the mysterious destination.
The colors around him flashed quickly into a bright white and he could hear a faint mechanical beeping in the background; then all light around him snapped out of existence. His body hit against a hard surface and he stumbled to the cold ground with a cry of surprise, instinctively wrapping his body into a ball as a world of senses came crashing down around him.
Suddenly he could hear, smell, taste, touch and see the world around him. His senses seemed to move into overload as he slowly opened his eyes and glanced around. He could hear the sound of chains stretching and adjusting as the weight within them shifted. He could smell fear in the air, mingling with the scent of sadness. He could taste sweat and determination in the air around him, mixed in with a heavy dose of hopelessness, tasting sour in his mouth. He could touch the cold ground beneath his hands, feeling what appeared to be thick concrete covered by an old and worn surface. And when he looked up...
He could see it all.
The chilling sight above him made him catch his breath and fight not to cry out or fall back onto the ground. Above him, suspended in the air by the chains as if he were caught in some massive spider web, was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. His body held no clothing and his skin held no blemish, perfect in its softness and smoothness, even where the chains encircled his skin. The chains themselves were quite strange because they weren't the type that one would expect.
One might expect the boy to be suspended in air by old and thick steel chains, rusted from age and use. But not these chains. No, these chains were small; ornate in design, reminding him of the kind people wore around their bodies as necklaces or bracelets. They certainly didn't look strong enough to support the young body above him, but apparently appearances were deceiving.
Slowly, he moved back to his feet and took a few steps back so that he was no longer directly under the body and was able to look at the boy without straining his neck. To his surprise, at his movement, the boy moved too, but only a little. The head shifted, the long hair hanging down around him wavering like newly disturbed water. Both eyes slowly slid open in what looked like an immense amount of effort and moved to look down at him.
Lips moved but no words came across.
"Who are you?" Heero whispered softly.
The boy's lips moved more, faster this time and a sound actually escaped his throat. But it was a raspy sound and completely incoherent.
Slowly, Heero reached out his hand toward one of the chains, letting his fingers brush lightly against the ornate metal. To his surprise he found it was warm to the touch, and soft, like flesh. His eyes widened as he watched a red light rush along the ends of the chains, racing up the lines toward the boy who hung in the middle. The boy met Heero's eyes for a moment, then the red light engulfed him.
At the same moment, red light flashed around Heero and he felt as if something had given him a sharp push over a cliff. He felt he was falling, everything rushing up around him. He opened his mouth to cry out for help, yet the feeling of panic completely disappeared as he felt warm arms encircle him in a protective embrace. Heero relaxed and let himself just float down.
Then the dream around him shattered into a thousand pieces, all washing away and fading back into darkness. Heero felt softness rush up around him like he'd landed in a cushion of feathers... or on a soft quilt...
~*~
Heero's eyes snapped open and he bolted up in bed, his eyes darting wildly around the room. Stumbling forward and completely mindless of whatever noise he made, he tumbled out of bed and reached quickly for his sketchbook. Grabbing the nearest writing utensil, he snapped the cap off the pen with his teeth and quickly set about sketching the lines on the paper. All the while Mimir watched from the bed, confusion painted across her feline face.
His hand worked feverishly across the page and despite the fact that he was using a pen, and there was only a sliver of moonlight from the window, he was able to sketch out the haunting image in good detail even as the dream began to fade from his mind. By the time he'd finished quickly sketching the picture, he found that the vivid image in his mind had faded to a ghost of a shadow, only faintly resembling what now sat on the paper before him.
The last thing he did was scribble a few words on the side, indicating what colors he'd seen the dreamscape in, then he dropped the pen and laid down next to it on the hard wood floor. Closing his eyes, he let go of the image, allowing it to slip the rest of the way from his mind like most of his dreams did. It didn't matter, he had most of it sketched now and that would help him recall it if he ever decided to do something with the haunting image in the future. He was done sketching it and now all his body wanted was to return to sleep and forget it.
Fur brushed up against his cheek, followed by a gentle meow, reminding him that he was now lying on the floor instead of in his bed.
Reluctantly, Heero opened his eyes once more and de-tangled himself from the quilt which had decided to follow him out of the bed in his mad dash for a pen and paper. Groggily, he stumbled back to his bed and pulled the quilt close around his body.
Once again he drifted off to sleep, Mimir settling down in the crook between his chin and shoulders. But this time, he slid off almost immediately and there was no dream, though the image floated in the back of his mind the entire night, begging for attention. It was as if it had a mind of its own and that it wasn't simply just another nightmarish image.
This creepy image was begging to be painted.
TBC...
Back to Snow Tigra's Fanfictions Page