"Richard, you dickhead!" Mattias laughed as he ran to catch up. "What are you doing?" Eleven year old Richard turned to look back at his younger cousin with a grin. "Dickhead, am I?" he asked, his grin never wavering. "Maybe I shouldn't hang out with you.. you know... since I'm a dickhead an all..." Matt snorted as he caught up with him. "You're right... the last thing I need in my life is to be the known associate of a dickhead. Got enough problems as it is." Richard snorted in turn and skimmed a rock up the road, watching intently to count the times it bounced before vanishing off into the grass. "Six.. nice one..." he said softly then sighed. "Hey... you're not still getting shit from them are you?" he asked softly as they walked slowly along the side of the road. Matt shrugged. "Nothing new, if that's what you mean. Just the same as always.. dirty looks, whispers behind my back, and you know the stuff they say..." he answered and whipped his own rock. He scowled fiercely as it hit the grass after only two bounces. "It's bullshit, Matt. Don't pay them any attention. They don't know shit about anything." Richard insisted, making another six bounce shot with a smirk. "Sure... easy for you to say... you're not a freak." Richard spun around and grabbed his cousin by the shoulders, shaking him hard. "You're not a freak either! Damn it, Matt don't let them do that to you! You'll falling right into their shit by listening to all of it." Matt blinked back sudden tears and shoved his cousin away. "Like I said.. easy for you to say.." he growled softly and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Both your parents are witches and so are you. Me, popular rumour has my father being fae and I have the ears to prove it.. not many witches with pointy ears after all..." he snorted and kicked at a rock. "Plus there's the fact that I can't cast even the simplest spell....some witch I am..." he muttered. "Even my own mother thinks I'm a freak." Richard growled under his breath and punched Matt in the arm. "Shut up with that shit. Your mom's a bitch, okay? They all are. So you take after your dad instead... " he said with a shrug."Fae have their own magic... you'll come into your power.. maybe you're just not old enough..." Matt snorted again. "Sure, if you say so." he muttered in an effort to get his cousin off subject. "I say so." Richard said then snatched up another rock and whipped it up the road. "YES!! Did you SEE that?! EIGHT!! A new record!! WHOOOO!!" Matt smirked and shook his head. "Well at least you waited until AFTER my birthday... can't accuse you of stealing the glory on MY day this time." Richard just grinned and walked backwards for a moment. "So... head down to the river to see if there's any fishermen to piss off?" Matt grinned and tossed a rock at his cousin's toes until he turned around. "Sure. Sounds like fun. Think we can make one of them try to hook us again like last time? That was hilarious.. wonder how long it took him to untangle his line from that bush..." Richard laughed. "God yeah.. that was good... or the time old Fenwick started to wade across the river to get us.. . and went under." Matt laughed softly as he idly played with the amulet Richards mother had given him at his birthday dinner the day before. The pewter pheonix wrapped around a crystal... she'd said something about it being both for and about him... He snorted softly and let the necklace slip back beneath his shirt. He'd long ago given up trying to make sense out of anything she said. If she wasn't talking in riddles over spells or visions... then she was just plain crazy. Still, she was the only relative aside from Richard that was decent to him and at least pretended to care about him. "Incoming." Richard called, catching his attention with a grin. "Ready?" Matt snorted with an answering grin of his own. "Always." As the car approached both boys simutaniously raised a finger in salute, then cracked up laughing. "Nice timing." Richard gave him a high five."Yeah. did you see the look..." Matt's eyes went wide at the sound behind them and looked back to see the car skidding to a halt sideways before turning back towards them in a rush of speed. Before he could do more then shout and take a step towards Richard to shove him out of the way, the car slammed into them both. *** Dark. Cold all around him... but not uncomfortable.. not bad.. just... different. Voices whispering.. but he couldn't hear what they were saying.. too many voices at once... Mattias shook his head and shoved away from the dark surrounding him. There were things in the dark that tried to hold onto him.. not grabbing or clutching... but gently, as if they just didn't want him to leave.... A bright spark of light shot across his vision and he turned to find the, seeing nothing but more darkness at first, then he saw a faint tinge of pink and at teh same time began to feel an odd warmth begin to spread through him. He started towards the light, curious as to where he was and what was going on, when a sudden pull stopped him. He turned, the light behind him growing brighter and brighter and the warmth in his chest beginning to feekl almost hot. "Richard?" he asked seeing his cousin standing in the dark behind him looking almost as if he was hiding from the light in Mattias shadow. "Where are we? What happened?" Richard smiled softly and gave a shrug. "Wish you could stay with me. I don't want to be alone." Mattias scowled softly as he tried to understand what he meant when the light suddenly everywhere and Richard and the darkness both vanished. Suddenly he was in a room, bare metal cold beneath him with nothing but a thin sheet over him. He grabbed the sheet and pulled it off his face, struggling to sit up. Pain shot through him at the move and he screamed.... .. a second scream rang through the room, accompanied by the clang of metal on metal as something hit the floor and scattered. Mattias lay back , his ribs and chest on fire with pain as he struggled to breathe. He could hear excited voices and suddenly an anxious woman's face appeared above him. "Where's Richard?" he managed to ask, his voice barely more then a whisper. The fire in his chest was lessening but his ribs still burned with each breath. "What's going on?" The woman's eyes looked past him at someone and he could here doors opening and closing over the excited rush of voices. Dark brown eyes looked back at him and she offered a weak smile. "I'm sorry, sweetie... you're in the hospital. There was an accident..." Mattias groaned, wincing at her words as he suddenly saw the car bearing down on them. "Not an accident.. he ran us down... he fucking aimed for us.." he muttered, tears suddenly streaming donw his cheeks. "Richard..." The woman looked as if she was blinking back tears of her own as he stroked his cheek gently. "I'm sorry, sweetie.." was all she said. Matt turned his face away form her and she patted his shoulder gently before someone else appeared at her side and they began checking his wounds. Matt ignored them both, only half hearing their whispered talk of a boy back from the dead with injuries that were healing too fast... He lost track of time, only half aware of being moved to a gurney and wheeled donw the hall and into an elevator and out into busy hallways to eventually find himself in another room and on a bed. At some point he fell asleep and awoke to hear a hushed arguement by his bedside.. his mother and his aunt. He feinged sleep, listening with burning eyes to them argue about him. Finally his aunt hissed and he heard one of them leave. He waited for the door to click close before he opened his eyes and saw his aunt standing above him. She looked donw at him, her eyes red and swollen form crying and reached out to place and press the amulet into his palm. "I always said you were different.. you had another path... I knew this was coming... but you shouldn't have taken my Richard with you..." she said softly, shaking her head. "Get dressed when you're ready... you've healed enough. The doctors don't know what to do with you so you might as well come home." She gave his hand a pat and left, not giving him a chance to talk. Which was fine with him since he didn't know what to say anyways.. he never did with her. *** Mattias stared ahead of him at the coffin laying on the dais, surrounded by bouquets and wreathes of flowers. The mixed scent of all the flowers was so strong there were moments he thought he was going to be sick from but he didn't want to move from his seat. He sat there, his hands folded on his lap as he listened to the soft sobs and whispered conversations around him. He he was the target of several dark looks and angry glares, as well as the subject of many of the conversations... the freak who came back from the dead... the freak who should've STAYED dead. He felt his eyes begin to burn again and he took a deep breath to get control again, his eyes never leaving the coffin, where he was sure he could see the tip of Richards nose poking above the edge of the wood. Richard should've come back.. not him. They wouldn't be giving Richard the dirty looks and shit.. no.. if it had been Richard they'd be burying him in hugs and kisses and gratitude for being alive... Matt sighed in frustration and stood up, ignoring the attention his move brought his way as he walked towards the open casket. He stepped up to the dais and looked down at Richard looking so peaceful aganst the pale blue satin pillow, as if he was sleeping. Matt's breath caught in his throat and he felt the ters spill down his cheeks as his breath broke free in a sob. "Richard.. fuck.. I'm so sorry...you shouldn't be in that box..." he gasped around his tears, one hand reaching out to touch his cousins cold cheek. He gasped as a shock seemed to jolt through him at the contact and Richard's eyes shot open. "Richard?" he asked softly and the face turned towards him, but Matt knew that Richard just wasn't there anymore... He took a step back and Richard's body sat up... and the room filled with screams and panic. He turned, his eyes wide in shock and pain to see his mother standing there, clutching the back of a chair, her eyes narrowed in anger. He heard something behind him and turned to see his uncle with his fist raised, then everything went dark. ** "You understand that we think it's for the best that he be placed somewhere else. Somewhere where the odds of his .. family.. coming across him are nil, if possible." "Yes... I understand. Trust me, young Mattias isn't the first child we've had that's required distance betwen him and his past. Familial abuse situations are one of the biggest reasons children are brought to us. We'll make arrangements with the next county to have him fostered there.. if nessecary, we can make arrangements to take him farther." Matt stared out the window, pretending he couldn't hear every word they were saying across the room. Obviously no one had filled them in about his fae half.. which was fine.. his hair was long enough it hid his ears as long as he was careful... and although his pale lavender eyes were an odd color for a human, they didn't seem to raise any questions. Comments, yes, but not questions. Matt tuned out the conversation between the two socail workers and lowered his gaze to the dead fly laying on its back on the sill. He touched it with the tip of a finger and watched as the legs began to twitch then the wings began to buzz, spinning the bug in a circle. Matt noticed that he could feel the fly in his mind; a tiny spark that was connected to him. He reached out in his mind and squished the spark and the fly stopped moving again. Matt smirked slightly and reached out to flick the dried up bug off the window ledge. He rested his forehead against the glass and looked out over the busy sidewalk below. Since Richards funeral no one had wanted anything to do with him. No one even wanted to see him. His aunt had dropped him and a suitcase off at the children's services that morning. He'd overheard her tell the social worker that met them that a 'family member' had tried to kill him and that a few others had both harmed him and tried to harm him further. H wasn't sure, but he had a definate impression that the muderous 'family member' had been his mother... "Matt? May I call you Matt?" Matt glanced over his shoulder to see the man smiling at him. "A car is on its way to pick us up, so if you have to go to the bathroom or anything, nows the time, alright? We've got a long ride." Matt nodded, not bothering to speak. He turned back to his window and ignored everyone until the car arrived. Part of him thought this might be a good thing... new start, new family.. no dirty looks over his father or his lack of magic... .. but then again, he DID have magic now... just not like the kind he was raised around. Not any kind he knew what to do with... The soft whisper of voices that always seemed to follow him now, quieted for a moment as he left the building and climbed into the back seat of the car. In the past couple days he'd come to understand that the voices were spirits.. ghosts.. and he was the only one who could hear them. He wasn't sure if it was because of his 'magic' or because he'd been dead himself... but then he wasn't sure if he HAD his magic because he'd been dead... too many questions and no one to help him with any answers. Matt sighed and turned his gaze out the window and watched the building pass by as they drove. So... maybe leaving everything behind and starting over would be a good thing.... maybe. **   The dead man swung gently back and forth, his feet passing just above the teachers desk. Matt tried not too look at him, but he couldn't seem to help it. No matter how hard he tried he kept finding his gaze going back to the protruding purplish tongue and the sightless eyes that still seemed to stare straight out at the class. The teacher walked in front of him, breaking his light of sight for a moment and he forced his gaze away, looking around at the rest of the class who were busy scribbling nots in their books or whispering and passing notes behind the teachers back. One of the boys waited until the teacher turned and whipped a paper ball at the kid sitting at the front of his row... Matt watched the ball miss and fly straight through the dead mans stomach. The corpse continued it slow swinging, the papers on the desk unruffled by the feet brushing past above them. The pencil holder remained standing as the feet swung through it. The class continued unpeturbed by the sight of a corpse hanging from the ceiling directly above the teachers desk. But then.. that was because they couldn't see it. Only he could see it. Just like only he could hear the whispers that seemed to follow him where ever he went. For the past year and a half, ever since the 'accident', he'd been seeing and hearing things that no one could. For a while they'd thought he was crazy and had stuck him in some seriously weird counselling, but then he'd figured out what was going on and had clammed up about it all. He'd died.. so now he could see others who had died too. And hear them. Not all of them had bodies.. some were just voices. And not all of the ones that had bodies spoke.. some, like the man hanging above the desk, were just there. No reaction to anything... just doing whatever. He'd started to wonder if they were really ghosts or something else... All the other ghosts noticed him and bugged him... but the ones like this guy didn't. It was like they were stuck in some sort of loop or memory and couldn't get out. Or maybe they WERE a memory.... Matt snorted and lowered his gaze to his book as the teacher cast a look in his direction. Whatever they were, it was really creepy being the only one to see them... but they were better then the others. As hard as it was to pretend you didn't see something.. it was even harder to pretend they weren't following you around and talking to you. Thanks to that sort of shit, he'd gone through several sets of foster parents... at first it was because he'd seem to freak out over nothing... or start talking to himself, carrying on a conversation with no one.... and once he stopped, it was because he was so... 'quiet and strange'. That's what he'd heard the last couple say when they'd handed him back over. Well.. quiet and strange was better than them thinking him a complete crack pot. Not that he cared what they thought... not really.. he just didn't want to wind up stuck in some hospital again. When this shit had first started, they'd dumped him in the psych ward of the local hospital for a couple weeks. Claimed it was post traumatic stress syndrom and when he'd stopped claiming he saw dead people, they let him out and sent him to another foster home. That was the best way to deal with them, he quickly learned. Pretend everything is fine.. don't let them know shit about you. Just tell them what they want to hear with just enough crap thrown in that they won't think you're just telling them what they want to hear. He'd gotten pretty good at it too. The bell rang and he was out of his seat before the sound even finished fading, same as half the class. He shoved his way to his locker and ditched his books, not bothering to grab the ones he was suppose to take for homework. No use in actually doing it. He'd heard the voices whispering that his current foster parents had been talking about him... that usually meant he was about to be sent back... again. Well... not this time. He'd had enough. Half the time he wasn't even sure what town he was in of what his phone number was.. or even what his foster parents names were. He didn't need this crap. They didn't want him that was fine. He didn't want them either. He let the flow of kids push him along until he was outside then he turned and headed towardshis current home. Or at least in the direction he was pretty sure it was in. When he spotted the house he breathed a sigh of relief at not having gotten lost again and headed up the steps, ignoring the two little girls that quickly surrounded him. He pretended he couldn't hear their questions and soft pleas... or their taunts and teasing, and he pretended he didn't see them or they way they tended to pass through things rather than walk around them. there were times he wondered what had happened to them. Them and the others. But he decided he didn't want to know. That would mean talking to them and that would only encourage them.. and they were enough of a pain in the ass as it was. Sounds from the kitchen told him his foster mother was busy cleaning again... he didn't think she ever stopped, actually. Her husband was either still at work or in the garage. Either way, he didn't have to deal with them until supper at least. Matt headed up to his room, with it's cowboy wallpaper that they no doubt thought was cute. Grimacing at the clown doll sitting on the swing in his window, Matt flopped down onto his bed and waited. The two young ghosts did their best to get his attention for a while longer then they finally grew bored and vanished. After supper, Matt retreated to his room and waited some more. He listened to the sounds of his foster family settling down for the night, not moving until long after the house went quiet. Finally, he quietly slipped out of bed and pulled the backpack out from beneath the bed where he'd hidden it the night before. All day he'd been worried someone would notice it's absence and ask him about it.. or worse yet, notice the money from their 'secret stash' they kept in the coffee can in the back of the freezer was missing. But no one had said anything. No one had noticed. And no one noticed as eleven and a half year old Matt climbed out his second story window and dropped lightly to the ground. He quickly made his way through town, sliping through back yards and scramling quickly over fences with just the moon light and ghostly whispers to guide him. He felt a slight quiver of unease as he slipped through the gap in the fence and suddenly found himself amoung headstones. He'd been here before, but not at night, and he expected it to be creepy... but oddly enough he felt more comforted then scared. They wouldn't think to look for him here, he knew. They'd check old buildings and such, but they'd never think of looking in a cemetary. He'd be safe here for a bit, until he decided where to go first. Matt followed his guides as they lead him to the old caretakers shack. He hestitated, knowing that this would be the least safest place... this would be the first place they checked it they decided to look here at all. The whispers seem to gather around him, urging him forward, then he smirked softly as one whisper sounded louder and clearer then the others. He sliped inside for a moment then reappeared and continued to let them lead him amoung the graves, the old pair old bolt cutters clenched in his hands. He looked up at the dark shape of a small crypt and felt a slight shiver run through him for a moment before he stepped up to the door. It took him several minutes or straining and swearing but he finally managed to snap the pad lock and open the door. The moonlight glinted of the scrap he'd left on the metal door and he felt his throat tighten in fear. He set the cutters down and grabbed a handful; of dirt, quickly rubbing it onto the metal until the shine vanished, then continued to rub it on some of the other metal bits as well. Casting a look over his shoulder he retrieved the cutters and slipped inside, pulled the door shut behind him. Alone in the dark, Matt fumbled in the back pack for a moment before his hand found the flash light, then he quickly looked around and moved away from the door. With a soft sigh, he shut off the light, tucking it back into his bag and pulling out the blanket he'd rolled up and tied to it, then settled down for the night. He'd done it. No more foster homes, no more counsellors, no more getting tossed around. It was just him now. Matt gave another soft sigh and rolled onto his side, his eyes instinctively straining to spot a slice of moonlight that would show him where the door was. After a few moments he could make out a faint greyish line amoung the black and decided that was the bottom of the door. He closed his eyes and lay there, the blanket folded beneath him and over him, protecting him from the chill of the concrete as well as the air, and listened to teh soft murrmurring of the dead that still lingered. He wondered briefly why they were still around. Wasn't there anything else waiting for them to do? Any place for them to go? There must be something, or else there'd be a lot more ghosts around... so why did these ones stay behind? Where did Richard go , he wondered and felt his eyes sting suddenly. He squeezed them tight against the tears thoughts of his cousin always brought. Part of him wished that he'd find him still around so he wouldn't be alone anymore, but that was just a small selfish part... The rest of him hoped that Richard had gone onto whatever was waiting. He didn't want his cousin to be suffering or lost like so many of the ghosts he came across were. He drew a deep breathe and shoved out all thoughts of his cousin, afraid of what might happen if he thought about him too much or too hard. Afraid he might somehow bring him back again... only his spirit this time instead of just his body. He didn't want to do that... he missed him, but he thought if he did do that.. if it was even possible.. he thought it would hurt him. If he was in Heaven or someplace good..., being pulled back here would hurt... and he'd hurt Richard enough. With a soft sob, Matt buried his face in his blanket and fought back the tears, focusing on what he was going to do now that he was on his own. On his own. No family. No mother complaining about him or shotting glares his way. No relatives or teachers whispering behind his back. Just like him and Richard used to talk about. Him being free of all the crap. He smirked softly as he gave a sniff, closing his eyes. Free. The soft whispers seem grow softer, as if trying to help him fall asleep. Curled on the floor of a crypt in the middle of the night, surrounded by the dead and feeling oddly as if he was finally 'home'.

 

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  Skye, Ruex, Sage, Washu & Miss Frost .
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