How Green Becomes Wood

"Suit yourself," Daizi replied gently, and squeezed Dark tighter, and only let go because he quietly expressed he was trying to cook. It wasn't her fault she couldn't appreciate him from a distance like normal couples. But, well, she set about making a pot of tea, "Do you remember Beatrice's kids, Dark, before the divorce? Those kids did never helped with anything."

"I remember when she convinced us to let them stay over for the weekend and they refused to do so much as put their plates in the sink and then nearly killed you because they decided to barricade the top of the stairs 'like in Home Alone.'"

"The oldest one was eleven, Xander," Daizi huffed, "and it was July. Never stay friends with someone out of obligation." She went into the fridge and pulled out a metal whipped cream cannister and set it on the counter as Dark plated the first finished pieces of toast and passed it over to Xander.

"Add whatever you think Alec would want to this. We also have syrup and yogurt in the fridge, if either you or him would like."
 
Never stay friends out of obligation? Considering he couldn't keep friends period, Xander figured that advice was wasted on him, but he nodded vaguely anyway. And then remembered she was blind and wouldn't be able to see his nod. That was going to take getting used to.

"This is good," Xander said, taking the plate and adding fruit, then squeezing out a sloppy mound of whipped topping on top. He set the whipped topping back where it was before and carried the plate up to their room. "Hey, breakfast."

Alec sat up awkwardly and pulled himself up against the headboard. "That's breakfast? That looks more like a desert."

Xander held out the plate to him. "Are you complaining?"

"No, not really," Alec smiled and accepted the plate. "Thank you. I'm feeling a bit better after the rest. Maybe tomorrow we can leave? Just one more night?"

Xander heaved a sigh but shrugged. "Sure, why not? One more night." He paused and then asked, "What's Home Alone?"

Alec looked at him, puzzled. "Other than the obvious? I think it's an old movie. Some kind of horror, I think, with a psychotic kid killer who traps adults in a booby-trapped house or something like that. Why?"

"Weird sounding movie," Xander muttered. "Never mind. Eat and rest up. I gotta get down there to eat." He headed back down the stairs, hesitating at the doorway to the kitchen.
 
When Xander returned, Dark and Daizi were talking seriously, but not in English, so what they were talking about was mystery. In truth, they were not, at that exact moment, discussing the twins, they were talking about Daizi's work, but to someone who didn't speak the language, they might've been talking about anything.

Dark was still at the stove, now cooking eggs, and thankfully he turned to respond more directly to something Daizi had said, because it allowed him to notice Xander lingering in the doorway, "I hope you have not been standing there for too long," he said, slightly furrowing his brows, "your breakfast is here."

"It helps me if you announce when you enter a room," Daizi said. Her tone wasn't at all critical, she knew full well most people didn't quite know how to behave around the visually impaired. She took a sip of her tea, and then sat up a bit straighter, and asked, "Oh, are you both planning to stay with us today? It's no bother, but if you are, we should really try getting to know each other a little better. You, and Alec, and Dark all know each other, I'm very left out, you know. I'm not offended, but it is strange to have guests in your home and know almost nothing about them. You simply must tell me something about yourself--it doesn't need to be a dark, brooding secret, although those are fun, it could be anything just---Please, do not tell me your favourite colour, I do not care."
 
Xander bit his tongue at Dark's remark and look. They had been talking about him and Alec! He wanted to challenge the older man and state how it wasn't like he could understand the weird, flowing, rolling langue, anyway, so how could he listen in on any conversations? But, no. He'd agreed to play nice. Just one more night. Then Alec would surely be well enough to leave, right? He could go out today and find a good spot for them to stay for the winter. There were a couple of abandoned houses in the rougher parts of town. Surely there would be a corner they could stay.

"I don't have a favorite color," Xander said, moving around to sit as far from the two as he could manage. "I guess I could tell you... uh..." His mind went blank concerning any interesting facts about himself that he'd want to share. "I guess we're staying today, but I gotta step out later. Got some stuff to do." He stared at the french toast on the plate, frantically raking his brain. He couldn't think of one interesting thing about himself! Was he really that boring outside of his sob-story of a past?
 
"Good, I don't have a favourite colour either." Daizi replied, resting her chin in her hand. She was more awake now, with help of the tea, which smelled amazing.

Dark, in a seemingly uncharacteristic soft moment said, "Well... our wedding colours..."

"Yes, obviously: emerald green, crimson, violet, navy blue, and gold, I absolutely adore those colours. I just have no idea what they look like." She had forgotten to bring her sunglasses downstairs, so the whole time Xander was in the room, she just took care to keep her eyes closed, which wasn't difficult, she had a lot of practice with it. But, she laughed at her own sarcasm, and for a moment she opened them, revealing what was, for most people, her most disconcerting trait.

After he had finally finished making his own breakfast, Dark joined them at the table. He always kind of hated eating in front of people, because since he was a larger-than-average person, he needed to eat more than average, just on a basic physiological level, but because he grew up food-insecure, people seeing what he needed, especially when they were also from a food-insecure background, made him feel sort of... greedy, even though even though proportionately he wasn't, and he just... He didn't love it. But it was fine, it was fine. Daizi always told him it was fine. But, thankfully, he didn't have to dwell on this bizarre insecurity, because once again, one of the twins said something unexpected, "What do you have to do?" He asked.

"Don't give him the third degree," Daizi replied quickly, and then, just as quickly, "but what do you have to do? Since we're sharing. And then, you know, you can tell us if you're more of a cat person or a dog person, or if you believe in ghosts, or if you're more of a Taylor Swift or Florence and the Machine fan, or about a hobby of yours. Dealer's choice, but... It is intriguing you have plans."
 
Xander had to wonder what the point of the color question was if she didn't know what colors looked like. How could someone who didn't know what colors look like have a favorite color? He didn't actually care, but it was an interesting thought. Not that he'd ever ask. She'd probably get offended and start lecturing him again.

Then they asked what he had to do. "I don't have to report-" He physically bit his tongue to stop his instinctual surly response. "I mean, I have to report to Alec what it looks like out there," he said instead. "He wanted to know if it snowed. And I can be out of your way for a while."

He turned his attention to his plate and shoveled his food into his mouth as fast as he could, cleaning it off to a level of shine in a matter of seconds and stood up. "Do the plates go in the sink?" he asked, already moving in that direction.
 
"Are you just planning a lovely jaunt through the neighborhood, then?" Daizi asked, "I'd gladly go with you. I hate the cold, but, honestly, our neighbor, Blair, she is the worst woman I have ever met, she'll call the cops on you for existing near her lawn or try to guilt you into going to her Temple or both. And she'll probably yell at you to stay far, far away from her daughter. Poor Mrs. Blair Applebaum doesn't realize her daughter isn't studying with Emily from down the street every day after school," She chuckled to herself, and then explained, "People have a habit of presuming if you're blind, you're deaf, and they talk very freely around you."

Dark did not focus on his wife's divulging of secrets, although he did nod when he mentioned how awful their neighbor was. He did not believe Xander just wanted to go tell Alec if it had snowed, there were windows for that. He knew Xander wasn't planning on running away, not with his brother laid up in bed, but what his actual goal was he couldn't guess, "You can rinse your plate and put it in the dishwasher," he said, "and if you are going out, at least wear a coat this time."
 
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Xander rolled his eyes as he rinsed the plate and put it in the dishwasher. It was kind of cool to see a dishwasher that actually worked. He'd lived in multiple houses that came with a dishwasher, but not a single one had ever actually worked. Well, one had for one load. On the second load, it had decided to give up the appliance ghost and tried to take the kitchen floor with it by flooding. Their mother had never even bothered to try to see if a dishwasher worked after that. Dishwashers were forever a drying rack and nothing more.

"Coat, got it. I'll borrow Alec's," he grumbled, heading for the door. He paused and looked back. "I like Iron Maiden. Rime of the Ancient Mariner might be my favorite, I think. Alec hates it." Then he pushed his way through the door and headed upstairs to grab Alec's plates, ringing them down to rinse and put away.
 
Daizi grinned when Xander shared his taste in music, "Rock on," she said, and managed to not sound 80 with that phrase, "Alexander the Great is my favourite, but I've never had a bad time listening to Hallowed Be Thy Name."

When she heard him leave, though, she sighed and said, "Well, I suppose I'm not invited on his winter stroll."

"That is because he is not going on one," Dark replied, "I do not know where he is going."

"Oh." Daizi replied, and after running through the conversation in her mind, said, "I mean, should we let him go, then? Or try to get him to be honest with us?"

Dark shook his head, "What good would forbidding him do? It would make him think we are keeping him prisoner. And we can ask him a thousand different ways, I doubt he would tell us anything," He shrugged, "but he will come back, Alec is here, so maybe he will respect it if we seem to trust him. I hope."
 
Xander headed out the door at top speed, though he did grab Alec's bright red puffy jacket. He would have preferred the grey one, that one didn't stand out quite as bad, but coverage was coverage. Then he was gone, making sure to stay well away from the neighbor's houses.

***

Alec was bored. He sat up and examined his ankle closely. The swelling had gone down significantly, though it was still there, acting a bit like a squishy cast. Xander had come and gone so fast that Alec hadn't had a chance to say word one to him. He heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his scraggly, clearly self-trimmed red hair. Come to think of it, he also really needed to use the facilities. He pivoted to sit at the edge of the bed, stood cautiously, and took a cautious step. Still not happy, but willing to take a little weight. Oh good! He could move! At least a little. Picking up his backpack, he began the slow, awkward trek to the bathroom, hoping to not catch anyone's attention.

It was a nice bathroom, far nicer than the public bathrooms he usually ended up in. Rather than taking a full shower or bath, though, he sat on the edge of the tub and used a washcloth to clean himself from top to bottom, never fully undressing. His knee took a bit of extra time as the skin had scabbed over awkwardly. Once he felt clean, he pulled out a new set of clothes from his pack and redressed. Bright blue pants that just a little too big for him worn over a pair of skinny jeans, one red sock and one green, a bright green shirt with a leprechaun under a pink button-up shirt left unbuttoned, and an orange scarf-like belt to finish it off. He looked at the mirror and smiled.

Carefully, he put everything back into his backpack including his own hairbrush and limped out of the bathroom, toddling awkwardly back to his room. He hadn't been told if he could leave, so as much as this dark, gothic house interested him, he dared not explore.
 
Dark stood in the window and watched Xander until he disappeared from sight. If only he had friends in the neighborhood he could call to help keep a general idea of where he went, but he was not so fortunate. So he had to take the time to simply trust the teen. Not exactly ideal, and it did not help he was by no means an optimist. Still, they made their choice, and they had only to deal with it.

"Finish eating, babe," Daizi said, putting her own plate in the dishwasher, "it was delicious, by the way. Thank you."

"You are welcome," he replied, pulling himself away from the window and returned to his slightly-cold breakfast.

"I'm going to go check on the other one, try not to die from stress while I'm gone," She hummed, and left the room as easily as she had entered it. Or, briefly left. She quickly turned back around, and leaning against the door frame said, "I love you, Goose," and then she left for real as Dark expressed an equal sentiment.

Once upstairs, she knocked lightly on the guest room door.
 
Alec had just made it back to the room only a few minutes before. He stood from the edge of the bed and limped to the door. He opened it and looked up at Daizi, smiling even though she couldn't see. "Good morning, ma'am," he greeted her quietly. "Did you make breakfast this morning? It was possibly the best thing I have ever eaten. Thank you." He shifted to the side in case she wanted to come in, balancing on his good foot as he did so.

Outwardly, he looked and sounded calm. Inwardly, his heart thundered frantically. Were they kicking him out? Were they going to do something now that Xander was gone? Had Xander been right about the murder basement? Or were they going to do other horrible things in the attic? There would be no one to witness anything that happened in here no matter what it was. No one to come looking for them if they disappeared. Not even Xander was here to try to protect him. He was on his own and crippled.
 
"Ugh, don't call me 'ma'am', never call me 'ma'am,' I am not that formal," It had nothing to do with the association between being called ma'am and being old--Daizi couldn't wait to be old, she dreamed of being a hag, with bony fingers and stringy hair. The way she'd startle the local children then, it was a delightful fantasy, "and I'll gladly accept the praise, mais non, but no, that was my husband and your teacher who cooked this morning. He's excellent in the kitchen."

She came further into the room, and perhaps would have seemed fell, were it not for the fact she were still in her pajamas, "I wanted to check on how you were doing, I know full well how tough strains can be. But you sound to be walking around on your own, which is a very good sign. How are you feeling?"
 
Alec kept his distance, partly out of discomfort and partly to ensure she had room to move confidently. "I am feeling better, thank you, but my ankle is still decently banged up. I think limping down to the bathroom and back is currently my limit." He edged over and sat on the bed. "I wanted to thank you again for putting us up for the night. I really did not want to impose. Is there anything I can do to repay your kindness?"
 
"All improvements should be celebrated, however small." She moved over to the small desk in the room and sat ontop of it, setting her feet on the chair, rather than sitting... on the chair.

"And don't bother with repayment, seriously. Dark and I... Well, we've always sort of ran with the misfits and outcasts and folk larger society forgets about. They're our people, always have been. So we've been known to open the door to those who are running, too. Or, limping," Two homeless teenagers were new, most times it was one of Daizi's art friends seeking a place to crash for a night or two, but on some occasions, more serious reasons brought people through, "And it goes both ways, when you have the means one day: always keep your door open for the world weary and oppressed. Everyone needs a Sanctuary. But," She leaned forward, her hands in her lap, "if you're really desperate to pay us, in anyway, you could talk to us. Your brother told me he likes Iron Maiden, you could tell me what music you like. Or, you know, how we can help you? If you're ready?"
 
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Alec watched her in confusion for a moment, and then accepted it as he started sorting through his bag for socks. It was her desk. She could sit on it if she wanted. He found a blue sock with white polka dots, and a white sock with red polka dots. Perfect! He pulled them on as he listed to her talk about providing sanctuary to others. It was a nice thought, it really was, but he had a hard time imagining himself having a place that could be shared like their house. Maybe some day he and Xander could rent a big enough place to offer a couch. That would be nice.

"You could talk to us."

Alec tensed at the phrase. She wanted him to talk? What did she want to know? All of his secrets? He couldn't tell her those!

"...Tell me what music you like."

He paused. Music? That was it? Or help. Oh. That was much easier.

"Well," he said softly, "I like random things. A little bit here and a little bit there, but I do like George Harrison and Bob Dylan and... Have you heard of the Traveling Wilburys? I like them. Um.... I guess... for help... if the professor is good with first aid... maybe get Xander to show you his ear?" The last bit was almost a whisper. Xander would have his hide for saying anything, but Alec was getting genuinely worried about it.
 
"Very cool. I've not heard of the Traveling Wilburys, but I'll look into them. I love music, it's one of the few things I can experience exactly the same as everyone else. I play the harp and the piano... I prefer the harp, it feels like spinning a web, it feels like weaving."

She was honest when she expressed her intent to listen to the new band, but furrowed her brows when Alec mentioned his brother's problem, "What's wrong with her ear?" She asked, speaking softly
 
Alec hesitated. Should he tell her? It was too late for second guesses now, he'd already mentioned something. Xander could be mad at him later, this was important. "He has a piercing in one lobe, and I think it's infected," he told her. "He wasn't supposed to get it, but he found a way. It's nearly a year old now, I think, but recently he says it's itchy and it's really red. He won't let me look too closely at it. He thinks if he ignores stuff, it'll go away," he admitted.
 
"Okay, well, I'll tell Dark. If we can convince Xander to let him look, we will. I've got my ears pierced, and Dark used to have his done, so if it isn't too bad we might be able to help, although neither of us are doctors. Well, not that kind of doctor," She tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear, "Thank you for telling me. I think they're very much alike, you know, your brother and my husband. You might not see it, but when Dark was your brother's age... Very much alike."
 
Alec raised his brows and couldn't help himself. "Bundles of volatile anger just waiting to explode like a messy volcano?" he asked dryly with a smile. "I think if I try hard, I can imagine it. Thank you for being willing to look. I hope it isn't too bad yet."

He paused, considering for a moment. "What is your favorite type of music, ma- I mean, missus?"
 
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