Saturday, September 27, 2014

The Scars of Yesterday part 7

"Growing Pains"
    "What's the matter, Zexion? You look bluer than usual," Xaldin commented at the breakfast table when he saw Zexion holding the side of his face and not eating.
    "I think my wisdom teeth are starting to come in," he mumbled. "My jaw is killing me."
    Xaldin remembered when Ienzo had started teething as a baby. His parents couldn't get him to stop crying, so Dilan had made a salve out of some herbs to numb the pain. After Dilan had put it on the infant's gums, Ienzo quieted down. "Thank you so much, Dilan," James had said.
    "You should only have to use it once a day," Dilan had advised. "It's a bit on the strong side." He'd stroked Ienzo's cheek, making him coo happily.
    "Have you tried aspirin?" Xaldin asked.
    "It didn't help. I haven't slept all night." Zexion put his head down.
    Xaldin went out and found the right herbs to make the salve again. He gave it to Zexion when it was finished. "Put this on your back teeth twice a day. It should help."
    "Thanks."
    "You're welcome." Xaldin patted him on the head. Zexion looked annoyed but did as instructed before going back to his room to rest.
    Xigbar came in later to check on him. "Hey, kiddo. Wakey wakey. You missed a meeting, you know that?"
    "Please go away," Zexion begged, muffled by his pillow.
    "I know. You're a bit under the weather. Xaldin told us." He sat down on the edge of the bed, but Zexion didn't make an attempt to get up. "Growing pains are the worst, aren't they?" Zexion didn't respond. "Okay, that's fair. You probably don't want to talk."
    Gee, what was your first clue? Zexion thought, trying to ignore him so he'd leave.
    "You didn't miss anything, really. Lexaeus was worried about you, though. He'll probably be by to check on you himself in a while."
     When he still didn't get a reaction from Zexion, he thought back to what Dilan had told him before: "People aren't your playthings. Let him come to you." He remembered one day he'd been sitting at a desk on the second floor of the library when baby Ienzo had climbed up the stairs while his mother was downstairs. "Hi, baby!" he'd whispered. "Did you come to visit your uncle Braig?" He'd picked up Ienzo and sat him on the desk. Ienzo had taken out his pacifier and offered it to him. "No, I don't want that. But look." Braig had taken the pacifier and made it disappear with some sleight-of-hand. "Where'd it go?"
    At first the baby had been mystified, having no concept of object permanence yet, but then he'd started to get upset. Braig had quickly revealed it from behind Ienzo's head. "Don't cry. Here it is." He'd put it back in Ienzo's mouth, and Ienzo had continued to stare at him, impressed. Then Braig had pinched the boy's nose. "Got your nose. Just kidding. Boop."
    Meanwhile, Ienzo's mother had gotten worried when she hadn't seen Ienzo for a while. "Ienzo-chan? Where did you go?"
    "Uh-oh. Did you get away from Mommy again? That's a bad boy," Braig had teased him before carrying him back downstairs. "It's okay, Marian, he's right here."
    "Baby, you have to stop scaring me like that," Marian had scolded with relief as Braig handed him over. "Thank you, Braig."
    "Not a problem. We were having fun, weren't we?" Braig had tapped Ienzo's outstretched hand. "Yeah, high-five!"
    Xigbar knew he didn't have a good track record with his other attempts at bonding with him, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying. He'd been told repeatedly not to force it, though. "All right. I won't waste my time trying to make you feel better if you don't want me to."
    Zexion looked up as Xigbar got up to leave but didn't stop him. Instead, he tried to go back to sleep. Sometimes he dreamed about his parents from when he was old enough to remember them. "'Papa!' 'There's my little scamp! Have you been minding your mother?' 'He's been a perfect angel today, haven't you, sweetheart?' 'Yes, Mama.' 'Oh, you're so cute!'" Unfortunately, the dream would often turn into a nightmare with Ansem angrily scolding him. "'You've been a bad boy, Ienzo. Your parents would be so disappointed in you.' 'But I-' 'No buts. You are no longer my apprentice or my son. Get out.'"
    Lexaeus heard him whimpering in his sleep when he went to check on him and shook him awake. "Zexion...Zexion!"
    "I'm sorry," he whispered, still half-asleep.
    "Were you having the nightmare again?" Lexaeus was the only one who knew about it as he was the only one Zexion confided in. Rather than deny that they had feelings, a creed they lived by in the Organization, Lexaeus would just listen to what he had to say without judging him.
    "I think I'm gonna vomit," he muttered, holding his stomach. Lexaeus brought him a bucket and rubbed his back, but Zexion couldn't manage to get anything out. He tried to rationalize it; he was empty inside - no bile, no tears, nothing. "I'm okay," he said, hoping he sounded convincing though his throat was raspy. "My jaw is fine. I've just got a headache now but the pain spread to my stomach. I haven't eaten anything, though."
    "And you were having another nightmare," Lexaeus said pointedly. He wasn't getting it past him, so Zexion just nodded weakly. "It's nothing to be ashamed about. You're still young. Your memories have a strong affect on you."
    Zexion didn't know if talking about it would make matters worse or better. "Am I...bad?" he whispered. "Was I always bad?"
    "No, no. You were a handful, but you were always good. You just made a mistake like the rest of us, and we'll fix it together. And yes, it was bad, but that doesn't make us bad."
    Zexion put the bucket down and lay his head in Lexaeus' lap. "Tell me a memory," he requested.
    Lexaeus sighed. At times like this, Zexion was always asking him to tell him stories that he'd been too young to remember. He stroked the boy's hair. "The first time your mother tried cutting your hair, you wouldn't let her," he began.
    "Sweetie, your hair is covering your eyes. I think it's time to cut it," Marian had said.
    "No!" Ienzo had objected.
    "It's not going to hurt, I promise!" She'd had to corner him as he'd kept evading her. She'd pushed it out of his face but he'd put it back in place. "Are you being silly?"
    He'd tried to make a break for it again but she'd caught him and held his hair back from his face. He'd covered his eyes with his hands. "I'm shy..." he'd murmured.
    "Why are you shy?"
    "I don't want to see everyone looking at me."
    "They look at you because they like you. They think you're cute."
    Ienzo had pouted. "I'm not cute. I'm a big boy."
    His mother had smiled. "You're not that big yet. Someday you'll be handsome like Papa. But Papa needs to have his hair out of his face so he can work. Isn't that what you want too?"
    "So what happened?" Zexion asked. "Did I fall for that?"
    "You compromised and let her cut some of it but comb the rest over your right eye. And you've kept it that way ever since."
    Vexen watched from the door. He knew Zexion could sense him but didn't bother to go in and ask how he was doing. He remembered when Ienzo was a baby and had been up half the night crying because of an upset stomach. Even had mixed up something to settle his stomach and fed it to him with an eye-dropper. The baby's crying had started to become infrequent and turned into hiccups. His parents had been grateful to him. "May I hold him?" Even had requested shyly after he'd been thanked.
    "Of course you may." Ienzo had stared at Even as his parents handed him over, and Even had stared back. Feeling sleepy, the baby yawned, put his head on Even's shoulder, and hiccuped again.
    He's so precious, Even had thought to himself. 
    The next morning, Even had agreed to look after Ienzo while his parents got some extra sleep. Just in case Ienzo was still feeling sick, Even had fed him a little at a time to see what he could keep down. It had seemed to be going well until Braig had come in and gotten overzealous. "Hey, buddy! How are you doing?" he'd asked, picking the baby up and bouncing him.
    "Braig, be careful," Even had warned sharply. "He wasn't feeling well last night."
    Ienzo hadn't thrown up, but he had started crying again. "Let me hold him," Dilan had said, taking him from Braig. "Shhhhh. You're okay, you're okay." To Braig and Even's surprise, it had worked.
    "He's a natural," Even had remarked.
    "Friggin' baby-whisperer," Braig had muttered.
    Ienzo had reached up and tried to touch Dilan's face. "He likes me," Dilan had said in amazement. "He's so cute."
    James had gotten up to check on them, so Dilan had handed Ienzo to him. Ienzo had been going through a phase where he'd liked to grab his father's glasses and tried to put them on himself. "No no, Ienzo," his father had said. "You'll ruin your eyes if you do that. Papa needs those to see."

No comments:

Post a Comment