Fanatics - Quiet Like the Snow: ZiBaricon

Fanfics

Quiet Like the Snow

By EraofDawn
March 12, Thirty Six years ago, 8:10am

There's a melancholy to the early spring morning. Rain descends through the thick gray clouds hanging low overhead. Any hidden snow slowly melts away embedding itself into the ground, turning the sickly yellows and browns of grass into bogs of mud. All of Merica begins to rise, as though her denizens were simultaneously awakening from a long winter dormancy. Everything seemed to move in slow motion this morning.

"Goddamn kid's crying again Cyrus!" An irritated and painfully grating voice pierce the household. The soft cries of an infant echoes thought the seemingly empty halls of the house. A man sits in the kitchen holding his head in one hand fidgeting with his black trench coat. His eyes are narrowed in annoyance as he sits up looking rather disheveled and displeased to be awake at such an hour.

"CYRUS!"  he snaps sharply as the infantile wailing grows louder. Another man appears from a corridor cradling a small child. The Man looks beyond his years, his eyes shadowed a grimace on his face. He looks at the shouting character with a blank expression on his face. He's dressed in an unfitting attire consisting sheerly of shades of gray and black. He walks over to the kitchen counter and sets the child in the other man's arms forcefully.

"Watch him." He mumbles halfheartedly under his breath. The other man opens his mouth to speak but no sound comes out as the other man's expression darkens.

"Don't argue with me today of all days Flint. I have to go make a few calls. So shut up and watch him." There's a coldness in his words that seems to startle the man called Flint. His expression of surprise and hurt changes and his eyes narrow again and he holds the child carefully grunting.

"You'll make such a good father, leaving your baby with a fucking pissed off vampire." He spits with irritation watching the man walk into another room vanishing behind a corridor. He looked down at the small bundle in his lap. The child was only a few days old it grew silent, huddling up in the blanket he was wrapped in hiding his face from Flint.

"Why the fuck did he ditch me with his fucking kid?"

Thought Flint silently glaring down at the writhing mass of blankets in his lap sighing. He leaned back in his chair silently dipping his head back looking up at the ceiling.

"He wakes me up early, He doesn't let me watch my shows, he makes me wear a suit, and now I get this little
squirming rat child in my lap. Fucking beautiful day."

He leaned back down looking at the child. The child remained curled up with it's face buried in the warmth of the blanket, ignorant to his surroundings making faint cooing sounds occasionally. Flint sighed, and carefully scooped up the boy holding him up slightly frowning with irritation.

"I don't see how such a tiny little thing could cause this much fucking trouble" he grunted quietly looking the boy over. He set the child, blanket and all on the kitchen counter looking down at him.

"It's almost like you're the center of some kind of more fucked up version of the 'Glass half-full or empty analogy."

Flint mused silently quietly putting his arms on either side of the baby as though they were guardrails.
"Should we be happy because a baby boy was born? Or should we be sad because someone's wife died. That's so fucked up. I mean I don't like kids, but people are supposed to be happy when one's born. Really happy. Not…like Cyrus. How do I get tangled up in this kind of shit anyhow."

Flint delicately wrapped his arms encircling the child watching him with blank cold eyes. He was stirred from his musing by a faint noise from afar. He lifted his head and swiveled it about the room his annoyed expression softened slightly, and he recognized the muffled whimpers from afar.

"Is Cyrus…crying?"

His face scrunched up in frustration, and he sharply whipped his head back looking down at the baby boy. He hissed lowly half to himself

"None of this would've happened if you hadn't been born. God Why'd Cyrus have to be such a pussy and get tangled up with that goddamned woman in the first place. Bitch never liked me anyways" he scorned bitterly anger rising in his voice. The child though unaware of the words being spoken. He widened bright blue eyes in shock only seeing fangs and hearing curses from a belligerent man. The child began to wail softly writhing about on the table, shutting his eyes away from the angered Mr.Dartson.

"Oh for the love of god will you shut the fuck up!" Snapped Flint coldly watching the child as though he expected it to understand his barking commands. The child only grew louder. He grunted unhappily scooping the baby up muttering to himself unhappily.

"Should've just smothered you already." He rocked the child quietly in an unsuccessful attempt to quell it's nerves. Flint rolled his eyes and looked around quietly then he saw it. It just caught the corner of his eyes and his bitter annoyance faded and his expression grew more solemn.

"The music box"

Flint moved across the room smoothly as though his feet were barely touching the ground. He attempted not to stir and distress the child any more than he already had. He shifted the child into the crook of his arm leaving the other open. He scooped up a small wooden box. It was a small and delicate thing, much like the child rested in his arm. It had music notes carved into the sides with a loving care. He remembered the soft voice of Elizabeth while she and Cyrus worked on the box for the child. He remembered her, and when he touched the box he felt overwhelmed. He could sense her, smell her and taste her in the air as though she were right behind him. Frightened he looked behind him. But no-one was there. The sensation left him haunted, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched as he made slow steps back to the kitchen counter. He sat back down setting the box upon the table quietly. He slowly wound the small handle on the side, as he cranked it soft melodic notes floated from the box. The child's cries grew silent and he huddled up against Flint listening intently to the sound of the music eyes wide with awe. Flint remained silent, his face blank and breath uneven.

He blinked. He saw her. His eyes widened in shock as he saw her pale silhouetted outline beside him. Her body pale her swollen stomach had since settled she watched him. She looked down at her child with a loving expression and leaned down to kiss his cheek. The Child cooed in response. The music stopped.

He blinked again.

And she was gone.

Flint looked haunted. The child was fast asleep in his arm. He looked down at him and held him close with a renewed feeling of protectiveness. His eyes darted around Searching for Elizabeth's ghost. But it was gone. He wound the music box, and it sang it's melody but she did not appear again. He shook his head weakly.

"What..The..Fuck..Was…That." Whispered Flint his body stiff, back arched. There was no response, only, the sound of a clock, muffled weeping,uneven breathing from Flint and steady slumber from the child. He shook his head in some type of a hope to shake off what he had just witnessed. He tried to block the thoughts out of his mind.

"It wasn't possible my mind must be playing tricks on me or something, this is what happens when I get up this fucking early in the morning. Holy fuck that was something…Even if she did.. Even if that was… Why did she show up by me? I mean Christ what the fuck…"

He thought, when a slow realization dripped down his back like ice. He shuddered and stiffened again.

"Cyrus has never raised a child. But, I had, I had raised a child.  I was more experienced at being a father or a mother for that matter than Cyrus. Cyrus the child's real parent, how could he raise a child alone?

Flint held the child close frowning his teeth set on edge. He made a decision to himself.

"I would have to, I have to help Cyrus raise this child. I wont' let this kid get all fucked up just because he didn't have a Mom."

He felt a determination he hadn't felt in years. He looked down at the baby boy asleep in his arms. He jumped back to reality when footsteps hurriedly pattered across the kitchen floor.

"Flint are you ready to go?" Murmured Cyrus. His face was stoic and stiff. His face had dried by now and he was bundled in a trench coat.

"Uh yeah. What the Hell took you so long. I've been ready for while." Grunted flint in response standing up masking any emotions he had felt from his voice. The two men left the house vanishing into a car driving off down the road.

Two men, Stood in a graveyard Both in trench coats, one black, one brown. The looked down heads hung low looking at a headstone the dirt they stood by was freshly moved slowly becoming mud in the falling rain. A while lilly lay in the mud, and against all odds remained unstained by the murky grounds surrounding it. Between the two men was a child in a cradle. Neither man spoke. With some silent and unseen gesture they both turned from the graveyard and strode away.  Two men vanishing into a thick mist as rain drizzled from the monochrome skies above on a rainy March morning.

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