Timmy's Sunset by KB
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This story is an entry to Blademistress' Ficathon
Scenario: The lights go out in Georgia. Who's responsible? Can be any character's POV.
Time: During Bloodlines
Timmy's Sunset
Oakview Lodge
Atlanta, Georgia
Everything seemed to happen at once, and in slow motion, as Timmy stood beside the table on which lay the precious vial that held the last dose he needed to remain as he was. Without it, he would revert to the empath Raines had made him, with his own emotions suppressed by those he absorbed from the people around him. And yet, even as Jarod dived for the vial that sailed through the air, Timmy knew what the outcome would be. His decision was made in a heartbeat, even before the sound of splintering glass died away.
“He’s a boy. Let him be a boy.”
It wouldn’t be long now. Only a few hours. Even if Jarod managed to make more serum, it would be too late. He would be trapped somewhere between Timmy and Angelo. There was no way of knowing which features of the two people would exist in him and it could be the worse of the two, rather than the better. Jarod himself was unwilling to test it, as Timmy could tell from his friend’s face.
At the piano, he played the piece that, as Timmy, he could remember a woman teaching him. While his fingers touched the ivory, he seemed to be not in Oakview Lodge but in the small house where he had lived before being taken first to Angel Manor and then to the Centre. The woman’s hands were gentle as she placed his fingers on the keys and he could hear her voice – soft and sweet – above his head, humming the melody. There was safety and security in that memory.
Sounds brought him back to the present. The woman who might be his sister sat in the chair beside him, weeping for the first time in years. Timmy could remember when, as Angelo, he had seen her cry as a child. Jarod had comforted her then, but now time and other emotions had come between them. Timmy could do nothing to mend that breach, and he knew that Angelo had also failed. That knowledge made Timmy sad.
It was strange, Timmy mused as he began yet another version of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”, that it seemed to him that Angelo was another person, not Timmy at all. He could remember looking out through Angelo’s eyes and seeing what Angelo saw, but the emotions that Angelo felt were not those of Timmy, for Angelo felt little apart from what those around him felt. Timmy had his own feelings. They were what had driven him to help Jarod save Davy. Feeling were strong, and Timmy felt a sense of regret that Angelo was never able to have his own feelings.
That night, when the sun vanished, Timmy left the cabin and headed out into the trees around the building, wanting to breathe the air and look at the stars. He would have no chance to truly appreciate them when he returned to the Centre. He would have to go back there. Angelo could never function in the outside world. It would be too much for him to absorb. Timmy knew that, but he also knew that he would be gone by the time Angelo was taken back. Miss Parker would make sure of that.
The door of the cabin opened and closed some distance away as Timmy lay on the grass and stared up at the sky. A shadow cast by the silvery moon fell over his face and then Jarod lowered himself to the ground beside Timmy.
“I like the nights better than the days,” Timmy said suddenly.
“You always did,” Jarod said softly, and there was audible pain in his voice.
“Angelo did,” Timmy corrected. “But I remember, before the Centre, when I used to be taken outside at night and look up at the sky.” Pride filled his voice. “I knew all of the stars by name.”
Jarod didn’t answer, but out of the corner of his eye, Timmy could see tears glistening silver against the other man’s cheeks. Timmy knew the pain Jarod was feeling, and it felt strange to know that, by simply speaking, he could cause it. It had been so long since Timmy had been able to do anything like this. Even Angelo had never done anything to make anyone unhappy. Timmy wasn’t happy to have done so, but there was so little time left. Every minute seemed to make some change in him. With every hour something dimmed, almost imperceptibly, like the light fading during a sunset. In the end, the light that made up Timmy would be out forever and only Angelo, with his vague knowledge of the world around him, apart from brief moments of insight that were gone almost before they began.
Timmy wondered if it would hurt to become Angelo, the way it had hurt to become Timmy. The rush of memories – even the good ones – had been so hard to bear that he was a little afraid of having to go through something like that again. And how would it feel when Angelo’s empathic skills came to the fore once more, drowning out his own emotions and pushing everything that made Timmy who he was to one side? Timmy didn’t know. He supposed he soon would…
Scenario: The lights go out in Georgia. Who's responsible? Can be any character's POV.
Time: During Bloodlines
Oakview Lodge
Atlanta, Georgia
Everything seemed to happen at once, and in slow motion, as Timmy stood beside the table on which lay the precious vial that held the last dose he needed to remain as he was. Without it, he would revert to the empath Raines had made him, with his own emotions suppressed by those he absorbed from the people around him. And yet, even as Jarod dived for the vial that sailed through the air, Timmy knew what the outcome would be. His decision was made in a heartbeat, even before the sound of splintering glass died away.
“He’s a boy. Let him be a boy.”
It wouldn’t be long now. Only a few hours. Even if Jarod managed to make more serum, it would be too late. He would be trapped somewhere between Timmy and Angelo. There was no way of knowing which features of the two people would exist in him and it could be the worse of the two, rather than the better. Jarod himself was unwilling to test it, as Timmy could tell from his friend’s face.
At the piano, he played the piece that, as Timmy, he could remember a woman teaching him. While his fingers touched the ivory, he seemed to be not in Oakview Lodge but in the small house where he had lived before being taken first to Angel Manor and then to the Centre. The woman’s hands were gentle as she placed his fingers on the keys and he could hear her voice – soft and sweet – above his head, humming the melody. There was safety and security in that memory.
Sounds brought him back to the present. The woman who might be his sister sat in the chair beside him, weeping for the first time in years. Timmy could remember when, as Angelo, he had seen her cry as a child. Jarod had comforted her then, but now time and other emotions had come between them. Timmy could do nothing to mend that breach, and he knew that Angelo had also failed. That knowledge made Timmy sad.
It was strange, Timmy mused as he began yet another version of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”, that it seemed to him that Angelo was another person, not Timmy at all. He could remember looking out through Angelo’s eyes and seeing what Angelo saw, but the emotions that Angelo felt were not those of Timmy, for Angelo felt little apart from what those around him felt. Timmy had his own feelings. They were what had driven him to help Jarod save Davy. Feeling were strong, and Timmy felt a sense of regret that Angelo was never able to have his own feelings.
That night, when the sun vanished, Timmy left the cabin and headed out into the trees around the building, wanting to breathe the air and look at the stars. He would have no chance to truly appreciate them when he returned to the Centre. He would have to go back there. Angelo could never function in the outside world. It would be too much for him to absorb. Timmy knew that, but he also knew that he would be gone by the time Angelo was taken back. Miss Parker would make sure of that.
The door of the cabin opened and closed some distance away as Timmy lay on the grass and stared up at the sky. A shadow cast by the silvery moon fell over his face and then Jarod lowered himself to the ground beside Timmy.
“I like the nights better than the days,” Timmy said suddenly.
“You always did,” Jarod said softly, and there was audible pain in his voice.
“Angelo did,” Timmy corrected. “But I remember, before the Centre, when I used to be taken outside at night and look up at the sky.” Pride filled his voice. “I knew all of the stars by name.”
Jarod didn’t answer, but out of the corner of his eye, Timmy could see tears glistening silver against the other man’s cheeks. Timmy knew the pain Jarod was feeling, and it felt strange to know that, by simply speaking, he could cause it. It had been so long since Timmy had been able to do anything like this. Even Angelo had never done anything to make anyone unhappy. Timmy wasn’t happy to have done so, but there was so little time left. Every minute seemed to make some change in him. With every hour something dimmed, almost imperceptibly, like the light fading during a sunset. In the end, the light that made up Timmy would be out forever and only Angelo, with his vague knowledge of the world around him, apart from brief moments of insight that were gone almost before they began.
Timmy wondered if it would hurt to become Angelo, the way it had hurt to become Timmy. The rush of memories – even the good ones – had been so hard to bear that he was a little afraid of having to go through something like that again. And how would it feel when Angelo’s empathic skills came to the fore once more, drowning out his own emotions and pushing everything that made Timmy who he was to one side? Timmy didn’t know. He supposed he soon would…
