"Daddy!"
Aidan paused in the doorway, setting down his briefcase before looking up toward the main stairs to see little nine-year-old Lillian hurrying down toward him. His lips curled into a smile as the girl threw herself at him. He clasped his arms around her and tossed her into the air, spinning her around before setting her back on the ground with a well-earned poke of her nose,” And what are you doing up at midnight, little girl?"
Lillian pressed her hands to hips and lifted her chin,” I’m not a little girl, Daddy! I'm nine years old, and Mommy said we could all stay up until you got back."
"Did she?" Aidan smiled and ruffled her hair before moving down into the hallway toward the living room. Normally Lillian couldn't stand having her hair ruffled, but today was a special day, and she could let Daddy get away with it just this once. After all, he'd been gone for a whole two weeks for work. Daddy hadn't had her, or Mommy, or even baby Mathew for two weeks. (Although Daddy was probably happy to get away from baby Mathew, he was loud and sticky and annoying.)
Lillian tottled after Aidan, urging him into the living room where Mommy and baby Mathew were waiting.
Immediately Theresa (known simply as 'Mommy' to Lillian, and "Ma" to Mathew) shot to her feet, jarring Mathew who was happily peering at a picture book at her side. Unlike Lillian, and even Mathew who greeted Aidan with an excited "Da!” Theresa was not smiling. Quite the contrary, in fact, she had a deep frown on her face, hidden only slightly by gnawing her bottom lip. Aidan stilled when he saw her, their eyes connecting momentarily. He sucked in a breath and turned to Lillian, gathering her up in his arms for a quick hug.
"Why don't you take Mathew and go get ready for bed, and Daddy'll come up and read you both a bedtime story. Okay, Lily-baby?"
Lillian wrinkled her nose and nodded,” So long as it's not a baby story."
Aidan nodded, smiling weakly,” Promise."
"Okay!" she gave him a quick hug before prancing across the room to collect Mathew, who came rather reluctantly with his book stuck under his arm. Once the tell-tale signs of tiny, naked feet pattering up the stairs had stilled, Aidan finally turned back around to face Theresa.
"Two weeks,” her voice was quiet and very still.
Aidan ducked his head and moved around to the armchair,” I didn't think it would take this long."
"You didn't call! You didn't leave a note! Nothing!"
"Theresa..."
"You don't want to bring it up again,” she mocked, curling her hands into fists at her sides,” We’ve had this conversation before."
"I don't, and we have."
"And you haven't done anything about it!"
"Theresa, I'm sorry, but I can't."
She didn't reply.
Aidan gave a sigh and sank his fingers through his hair,” I know, I know, I'm sorry. But I told you, no one's supposed to know, when I do it."
Theresa gritted her teeth and turned away, wrapping her arms around her chest,” I don't want to talk to you."
"Theresa..."
"Go! Just...read the kids their story and...and go somewhere. I don't care where."
Aidan nodded and rose from his seat,” I’ll be back tomorrow."
Theresa gave a snort and muttered something under her breath than Aidan couldn't quite catch.
.:.:.::.:.:.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hold on a second, Sherlock, you're not taking off those socks now, are you? You are? But...but I thought we were pals. Hey! Stop waving them around! What's gotten into you anyway?"
Lillian giggled and Mathew chewed his blanket, biting back laughter. Aidan forced a smile onto his face and flipped the page.
"Wait! Knock it off! Ugh! Bluck!!! Ick!" the page flipped again, and Aidan let out a loud groan,” I’m gone!" He turned to the last page, lifting the picture between his children. There was a lacy pink bed cover, on top of which a little girl's foot was visible. Below the bed was a big, black shadow, ominous and frightful.
Aidan lowered his voice to a whisper,"Pssst!" he read,"Yo! Down here...under the bed. It's me,” he leaned toward Lillian and Mathew and jumped forward,” The boogeyman!"
The children let out excited squeals and hurried to cover their heads with the bedcovers. Aidan laughed with them, shushing them after a moment and tucking them into their individual beds. Planting a kiss on each of their cheeks he turned to leave, flicking the light off as he passed the switch.
"Daddy?"
Aidan craned his neck,” Yes, Lily-baby?"
"Can you leave the light on, just until we fall asleep?"
Aidan nodded and flicked the light on,” Do you want my dirty socks too?"
Lillian gave a little giggle and shook her head.
Aidan smiled and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. Theresa passed him in the hall, shuffling meekly toward the bedroom. Aidan watched her, stepping forward, but the door was slammed shut before he even made it half way down the hall.
That was that then, she wanted him gone.
Just for the night, he assured himself, smoothing down his shirt. He'd be back in the morning, he'd even bring breakfast. She couldn't stay mad at him forever. He toyed with a loose thread dangling from the edge of his shirt and hurried down the stairs. He left his suitcase where they were and moved out the door, locking it behind himself. Unwilling to waste one more cent on hotels he shed his clothes where he was, thankful for the darkness, and hid himself in the shadows of the house.
His transformation took moments. His body burst into flames and the excess weight dropped off him, turning into ash and fueling the heat. Bright, red feathers burst out over his skin, and with a contented cry he called the fire back into himself. Brimming with warmth he spread his wings and took off into the night.
It had been such a long time since he'd been able to fly.
The wind felt cool against his feathers, taking his heat piece by piece, but not nearly fast enough as he could regenerate it. He folded his wings and dove downward, chasing the cold, fighting his heat. The ground loomed before him and he whipped his wings out again, catching the breeze as it lifted him higher, higher into the blackness of the night. He flew for who knows how long, until his wings began to ache the cold began to win out against his heat. Exhausted, he drifted back to the ground and returned to his human form. No burst of flames to warm him this time. Stretching his aching muscles he made his way back toward the house, grateful for the darkness, and slipped back into his clothes.
He'd have to find somewhere safe to sleep, somewhere secluded where a phoenix wouldn't bee too noticeable.
Aidan brushed the dirt from his clothes and headed out down the sidewalk. He could really feel the cold now, and it made him shiver. His clothes weren't meant to keep in the heat. Hopefully there'd be a suitable resting place near the house.
His footsteps sounded against the pavement, impossible loud. Each slap of his shoe against the concrete was a like an explosion, shattering the otherwise total silence of the little street. Aidan shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged onward, trying to place his feet lightly so they didn't make quite so much noise. It didn't help.
It was impossibly quiet, wasn't it? And dark. There was not so much as a single glittering spot of light in the sky, no sliver of a moon. The only light, in fact, was from the various streetlamps that flickered weakly over the sidewalks. Not a single car passed him as he walked, and every window he passed was black. Aidan gave a nervous chuckle and ducked his head, watching his feet as he walked.
He couldn't die, he reminded himself,Even if someone mugged him, he couldn't die. He'd be reduced to a child, of course, an infant, but he wouldn't die. Theresa would be able to understand if he didn't make it home because of that, wouldn't she? She'd have to.
He couldn't die. He repeated the word over and over again, lifting his head and watching the shadows. Not for burglars, he thought to himself, For someplace to sleep.
Aidan stopped suddenly, squinting through the darkness at one of the streetlamps. The light was weak and flickering on and off as rapidly as an insect's wings. He strained his eyes to watch it, the black-light-black-light triggering the beginning of a headache, but he looked on anyway. Eventually the flickering slowed and the weakening light dimmed even further. The pale white-ness slowly faded, dimmer and dimmer, until it was out completely. Darkness bathed the area, and Aidan could no longer make out the shape of the street lamp.
Then, suddenly, something moved out there, exactly where that flickering light had been. Aidan squinted, stepping forward. Suddenly his footsteps didn't sound so loud anymore, deafened against the thundering hammer of his beating heart.
"Who's out there?"
There was no response, and the...thing he thought he saw disappeared. Just a trick of the light, a sudden onslaught of the old muscae volintarus. Aidan let out a sigh of relief and strode forward, veering toward the street when he reached that lamp.
There it was again! Movement!
Aidan froze, his hands curling into fists within his pockets,” Who’s out there?!"
No response. Again.
"Just a dog,” he muttered to himself, and continued forward. His heart continued to beat rapidly in his chest, causing his nerves to flame with sensitivity. He could feel the hairs all over body rise, and will himself to relax. It was nothing. He couldn't die. It was nothing.
Nothing, nothing, nothingnothingnothinnothing...
There was a cold tickle of breath on the back of his neck, and Aidan let out a yelp, swirling around with fists raised to his chest.
But there was...nothing.
He let out a shaky breath and let his hands fall to his sides.
He felt something sharp and hard slam into the back of his skull and was sent careening to the pavement. His nose crunched beneath his weight. Something hard and heavy pinned him to the pavement, shoving his head forward. He felt a prick at the back of his neck, a sharp, quick pain. A needle. Gasping for breath he tried to roll onto his back, to see, but whoever was sitting on him had him well pinned.
The cold began to burn through his veins, setting him on fire. His body convulsed, fingers clawing at the pavement. A hand pressed itself over his neck, petting, stroking, and god, it hurt.
His body wracked with convulsions once more. Blackness began to form over his eyes, almost indistinguishable against the night's shadows. Those fingers moved from his neck to his cheek, pettingrubbingcalming.
He convulsed again, spine arching with the paroxysms. Again and again and again. The pain tore through him until finally, finally, it was too much. His body sank limp against the pavement and he let the darkness take him.
.:.:.::.:.:.
Aidan awoke with a start. He cracked his eyes open, squinting against the bright onslaught of brilliant white. Shivering he pushed himself to his feet, muscles aching from the unrelenting floor. His eyes flittered away from the bright lights and the stained, white walls. Landing, instead, on the only object within the confines of the tiny room.
A table. And on it was a line of dice, all perfectly cube shaped, muted white and black. There had to be fifty of them all together.
Aidan approached the table, his legs trembling and weak. His set one hand against the corner, fingers curling around the wood, and stretched the other hand toward the dice.
"Good-morning Aidan"
His hand shot back and he scrambled toward the nearest wall, sinking to a huddled heap in the corner.
A disembodied laugh filled the room, taunting and callous.
"Let's play a game"