[Flashback] Unwanted Children (Stitch)

by **Julian** on May 2nd, 2011, 10:40 am

OOCIf I took too many liberties here about the orphanage, let me know in AIM and I'll come back and fix it! Or rework it... whatever it needs! Also: the picture is a lazy way for me to describe Julian's appearance when he was 9. He has short hair at this age, so you know.

Okay, on with the post...
The Welcome Home Orphanage
Spring, Day 3, 496 AV
Julian Meredith, Age 9

You're safe here." That's what they had told him. He must have looked afraid. But it wasn't the orphanage that frightened him; it was the reason he was here.

~

Earlier that afternoon when Julian sat at Edward's side, while the blond talked with some other adult, he could hear other children laughing and playing in the yard from inside. Hugging his knees, the boy's eyes wandered the office, staring boredly at pictures of art hung on the walls. The conversation Edward was having with the nicely dressed, older woman behind the desk was about Julian, but he wasn't listening. It was just more words, more talking. Words that Julian didn't understand the meaning of, but was suddenly hearing a lot about lately, like "custody" and "financial responsibility."

Whether Julian couldn't understand what was going on, or simply didn't want to, it was impossible to know. He knew he didn't like this place, and being here gave him a creeping sense of dread. A lot of things had happened since Julian had been told that his parents were gone. He didn't understand what it was Edward had been doing about it, signing papers and discussing issues with Syliran Knights and formal accountants, but Julian did grasp that it was all very official and important in a way that didn't involve the confused nine-year-old. Vaguely he knew what an orphanage was, he just wasn't sure why he was here. Edward, Julian knew, would take care of everything.

A hand clapped on Julian's shoulder, breaking him out of his private stupor. Silently, the boy turned to look over at Edward, their crystal blue eyes meeting. Edward tried to smile reassuringly, but it only came out as a grimace. He looked nearly on the edge of tears, which confused Julian. Since being brought to Edward Du'lon's residence, he had never fully understood who this man was. While Rowan and Evelyn Meredith fought, Julian had been told to stay at Edward's until things calmed down. It had been said that Edward was a cousin, but he wasn't sure what that meant exactly. He'd just accepted it, assuming that it meant Edward was family he could trust.

"I'm sorry, Julian," Edward had said to the boy. Then he stood up and began walking out of the room.

Julian got out of his chair and began following him, but a new hand clasped his shoulder. The boy looked at it - a smaller, gentler hand. It was the woman from behind the desk. What was she doing? Julian huffed and pushed the hand away, running toward the blond man heading for the door. He turned toward Julian and sighed.

"No, Julian, you're not coming with me," Edward told the boy sternly.

Julian froze where he stood, fear and confusion filling his round face.

"You're going to live here now." Edward broke eye contact. He was ashamed, it was written on his features, but he was resolute. "I'm sorry. I can't be your father."

"Julian, it's all right." A soft woman's voice sounded from behind him. It was gentle and soothing; it felt like silk. But Julian didn't want it to comfort him. "You're safe here." He felt her hand petting his hair as he stood there frozen, staring at Edward by the door. By no means did he see that man as his father, but it had been the safe place he'd known for months, since he couldn't be with his parents anymore. Who cared if they were gone? Julian had a new place to live now. Why did it have to change just because they were dead? Why did he have to come to this building full of unwanted children? Julian wasn't like them!

"I don't think he understands," Edward sighed.

"Don't worry," the woman replied. "This is normal. Julian will be fine. I think he'll feel a little better once he meets the other children. Would you like that, dear? Would you like to come with me to the backyard and meet the others?"

"No!" Julian screamed, turning to face the woman. "I want to go home. I don't want to live here."

"Julian, calm down." Edward's voice was stern again. There was something behind it. Julian knew he was upset. All he had to do was push a bit further and Edward would relent and give him what he wanted. That's how it happened before. "I've explained this to you."

~

And it was explained to him again, and again, over and over. Always gentle wording, kind tones, pained faces, and hollow apologies. Hours later, curled up in the corner of his new room with his fingers dug into his hair, he still didn't understand it. Why couldn't he just go home with Edward? If Julian still had family, why did he have to come here? This was a mistake. It had to be.

The sun had been down for a while, and moonlight poured in through a single window, leaving a crosshatch of lit squares along the wooden floor. Shadows bathed the rest of Julian's room, but in the blue-tinted darkness, his bed could be seen - empty, with the covers strewn about and half hanging on the floor. The silence was occasionally broken by the quiet, but sharp sound of irregular sniffling. It belonged to the dark haired boy sitting on the floor in the far corner.

Julian had spent about an hour there, gathering up the nerve for what he was about to do. His entire young life, he had never done anything extraordinary or brave. There had never been any need. His parents had fought, and sometimes it frightened him. When he was too scared to lie alone in his room, he could always slip out of bed and wander the dark hallways of his home fearlessly, and crawl into his mother's bed. There, she'd always hold him until he fell asleep. His father, who slept in a separate room (this never struck Julian as odd. Why would it?), was rarely as affectionate, but sometimes he would tell grand stories about his past adventures. His home had been a secure place, and so had Edward's.

However, the orphanage was strange, and there were new rules to adhere to. He couldn't just slip down the hallways whenever he wanted. There were no other beds to crawl into when he was feeling lonely and scared. Julian didn't like the other children who lived here - they were all "unwanted," like the sign had said out front. Julian wasn't unwanted. His parents were gone, that was all. And Edward cared... didn't he?

Wiping his nose with the back of his arm, Julian slowly got to his feet. He no longer cared if he got in trouble for this. He didn't even know anyone here, he didn't belong here, how could he get in trouble? Their rules were stupid, and they didn't apply to him.

Steadying his breaths, Julian carefully opened the door to his room, very slowly manipulating the door latch so it wouldn't make any sound. Leaving the door ajar (closing again could make too much noise), the boy began to creep down the hall. Except for the dim light that came from Julian's open doorway, it was completely pitch dark. He felt along the wall as he carefully tip-toed his way toward the stairs. Julian wasn't completely sure he remembered how to get to the front porch and back outside again, but there was no way he was spending another moment in his room.

The boy winced as nearly every step he made caused the floorboard to creak. He had to move very, very slowly. The moaning creaks became more like muted clicks, but his footsteps were not completely masked. He pressed on anyway, confident that as long as he was careful, no one would discover him. The creaks sounded loud in the silence, but behind the closed doors of the other children's rooms, the telltale floorboards were less obvious. Weren't they?

Julian felt his heart flutter as he felt the wall change. Tentatively feeling forward with the ball of his foot, the floor fell away. He'd reached the stair case. Exhausted by his meticulous effort in getting this far, Julian hesitated. He needed a moment to gather up the willpower to silently traverse the stairway, which was probably even more creaky than the floor. Taking a moment to reflect on his small progress, he cursed the building. If it had been made entirely out of stone, he'd have no problem at all. Still, he didn't think he heard anyone moving. Sneaking out of here would be easy. Finding Edward's house in a dark city would be the hard part.

by **Stitch** on May 4th, 2011, 4:59 am

Stitch pratically appeared out of nowhere.

The young black-haired boy was suddenly there, at Julian's side, lifting a finger to both of their lips to keep them quiet. Hopefully Julian would follow instructions, as he would likely know that any sudden and sharp yells would instantly end his daring escape. For a few moments, both boys would stand there in the dark silence, staring at each other. Stitch had an unreadable look upon his shadowed face, a nearby window casting moonlight onto his dark blue eyes, but shrouding the rest of his features. He was shirtless, but in baggy pajamas, lightly resting on the tip toes of his feet. His upper body was slightly defined with just a bit of hair on the chest, perhaps a strand or two, signalling he had perhaps just conquered puberty. Julian might have seen him earlier, a smiling and happy kid that seemed to be the oldest of all the ones here. He was quiet and made himself a part of the background, but he was one of those older kids who took an almost father-like role to the rest of the children, helping them when they needed it. Lightly disciplining them with sharp words, or encouraging them with soft ones. Apparently he was a ninja, too. Somehow, he had managed to creep out of his room and up to Julian in dead silence. How had he done it?

Unlike Julian, Stitch had been here since he was a baby. He had snuck out, or at least tried, several times during his orphan career. Since then, he had learned all the steps to take. They were always the same. The old floorboards had long since settled, and decided where was safe to step, and where wasn't. You should shuffle your foot an inch away from a loud creak, and land on a completely safe and silent space. It was a weird thing, really.

Stitch continued to stare at Julian, tilting his head to the side. Was the young teenager thinking about turning Julian in?

Chewing his lower lip, Stitch held up a finger, telling Julian to wait. Then, he stepped forward, slowly but surely, making sure to keep his movements slow and smooth. He gently set the toes of his feet down on the next floorboard, shifting his weight in one smooth motion, slowly transferring it to the board. All that echoed out was silence, and Stitch flashed Julian a grin, sticking his tongue out a bit in a faint tease. He stepped forward again, all with the same motion, bringing nothing but silence once more. This time, he paused, and glanced back at Julian, motioning him on. He was actually leading the young boy out of the house in the safe way.

Hopefully Julian would follow. He probably didn't know the house very well, and he would never be able to get out quietly.

Eventually, if Julian did follow, he would find that Stitch's path led them out a door, and to a backyard. It was obviously the section behind the house. A nice white picket fence held an actual grass lawn, a rarity in the castle-city of Syliras. There were several toys strewn around the backyard, as well as a single sandbox, and a swingset. A small alleyway led around the side of the Welcome Home, which one would assume emptied out front. Stitch just awkwardly stood there, his head tilted to the side, his flickering blue eyes focused upon Julian.

"Are you trying to run away?" The words were soft and quiet, and Julian might very well miss them. They held something of a sad tone to them too. Why was he feeling such an emotion for the young boy?

by **Julian** on May 5th, 2011, 10:55 am

When the older boy appeared beside him, Julian inhaled a sharp breath. He had never been afraid of the dark, but taken completely by surprise, he could almost hear his heartbeat thudding against his chest. With the finger pressed to his mouth, Julian kept quiet, studying the taller shadow that now occupied the hall with him. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the dark, Julian was able to make out a few details on the other boy, enough to recognize him from earlier that afternoon. Not from his face, but from his height and build - he was one of the oldest ones here. He remembered that some of the other children flocked to him, as if he were their chaperone.

As his heart rate returned to normal, Julian felt oddly at ease with the boy nearby. Being an only child, he had difficult time relating to anyone else his age, but he didn't see this stranger as a peer. Afraid and alone, he was only too willing to follow suit with the rest of the orphans and look up to Stitch as a guardian, or at least a leader. Even more than that - he was surprised that someone like Stitch had taken notice of Julian at all. It brought a warm feeling of validation, but he tried to swallow it for now. Julian wouldn't be in this orphanage for long.

The boys stared at each other for several long minutes. Julian, fighting with himself against the urge to run, to punch the other boy, or both, remained only paralyzed by terror. All Stitch had to do was yell, and his escape attempt would be over. But the older boy seemed to be more confused than alarmed, and he seemed to be wearing emotion in his features, what little Julian could make out in the dark hall. Did Stitch... feel sorry for him? Why would he? Julian had seen him earlier - he looked happy with the other children. He couldn't understand that Julian wasn't supposed to be here.

When Stitch began to lead the way out, Julian didn't question it. There was no time to, not now. Still, overwhelming relief flooded his veins as he followed. So he had an ally in his struggle, after all. It only helped convince him that the universe didn't want Julian at the orphanage. He was going to make it back to Edward's, and this would all be sorted out. It was bad enough that his parents were gone, it couldn't be his fate to end up in this hole with so many strange people around.

Watching him move, he couldn't help but think that Stitch had done this before. Had he helped other children escape in the past? Or was he just the rebellious sort? Julian carefully followed the other boy's steps, albeit a little more clumsily. His legs weren't quite as long as the older boy's.

Finally they emerged into the backyard, into the brisk, early Spring air. Though he wore cotton pajamas, the passing, cool breezes seemed to snake into his sleeves and into his collar, chilling his skin underneath. A bright, round moon hung large in the sky, framed by thin, glowing clouds. It poured a neon blue sheen onto everything on the ground, and glittered in the grass. A light accumulation of dew made Julian's bare feet wet, and he cursed himself for not remembering shoes.

From here, Julian could make out the alleyway that led back into the streets of Syliras. He was a little afraid of venturing out on his own, but he'd been told grand stories about the Knights. Hopefully, they'd keep him from danger. If they caught him, Julian could just tell them he was sleep walking, and have them take him home to Edward's. He was almost certain that could work, and would be the safest way back home.

Just as he was about to make his way out of the backyard, Stitch's soft voice stopped him. Despite his confidence in leading the younger boy to freedom, he suddenly sounded reluctant. Manners had never been very well taught to Julian, but even his underdeveloped, young morality reminded him that he really ought to thank the other boy for helping him.

Julian turned. "I'm not supposed to be here," the younger boy replied, keep his voice hush, almost a whisper. "I think I know how to get back home from here, but..." He let that sentence hang. He wasn't really sure how to finish it. Something about this didn't feel quite right with him. "Why did you help me?" Julian had meant to thank him with his next words, but he suddenly realized this could all be a trap. Thanking him might be premature. "Aren't you going to tell on me?"

by **Stitch** on May 9th, 2011, 9:46 pm

Every now and then, Stitch would prance from board to board, as if showing off for his new-found friend. He had a boyish grin on his features the entire time, his dark eyes flickering gleefully in the moonlight. He really did seem like the type of boy that was a playful troublemaker, and that was probably why he had so much experience in sneaking out of the Orphanage. No matter how he moved, no matter where he stepped, it always seemed he managed to skillfully pick out the floorboards that were securely nailed down, without a single creak to be heard. He even managed to make a path around some of the toys that were strewn out in the various rooms, periodically glancing back to make sure Julian was following, making sure that the young boy was managing to keep up.

The two boys made it outside, and then just stood there for a few moments, awkwardly staring at each other. Stitch was dressed in pajama pants, yet was barefooted and shirtless. The air was warm in Syliras, so he could stay comfortable, but he seemed just as bothered as Julian by the wet grass underneath their toes. He continously shifted and moved his feet, wiggling his toes as blades of grass started to gather on them.

Julian started to leave, right as Stitch started to speak. For a moment, the boy was afraid that Julian would walk away without explaining anything at all. Eventually though, the boy paused, then turned, begrudgingly looking back at Stitch. Stitch offered him a hesistant smile, still feeling the awkward feel in the air. But... the boy wanted to know why Stitch had helped him? Stitch tilted his head, staring questioningly, as if the answer was obvious.

"I was left here when I was young. I know what it is like to feel unwanted, to want to step back out into the world, to want to find the people who left you here. Your real family. I can't really imagine what you are going through, though... as you know you have family out there. It is kind of a sad thing, I bet. I am sorry." Stitch spoke softly and quietly, his apology genuine. He had stepped a bit closer to Julian, but now idly shuffled to the side, as if pacing a restless circle around the boy. "So... I guess I just couldn't bear to stop you in there. You would have gotten in trouble. I don't want to get you in trouble." He smiled again at Julian, the smile friendly and genuine. "Priskil knows I have gotten into plenty of trouble. It isn't fun."

Stitch suddenly stopped walking, his young body flexing a bit in the moonlight, suddenly showing off his rather nice frame, at least for a man of his age. Did he actually exercise? "So no, I am not going to tell." He paused, and tilted his head in the other direction, curious to where this was going to lead. "But that doesn't mean I am going to let you leave."

by **Julian** on May 14th, 2011, 10:46 pm

Feet planted in the wet grass, Julian watched the other boy warily. A cool evening breeze brushed by him, ruffling up portions of his hair, but he tried not shiver. He didn't like the way Stitch's posture had ever so slightly shifted, but he couldn't tell if it really had, or if Julian's nerves were just making him paranoid. Everyone seemed to be working against him, when he knew that he wasn't meant to be here. Stitch had led him outside, but the suddenly helpful teenager wasn't acting naturally, and it made Julian frightened. felt like the world was trying to punish him for something he couldn't remember doing. Maybe because he didn't protect his mother when...

Julian cleared his head with a quick exhale. The older boy was... far too understanding. His voice was soft, kind, and he wanted to trust him. It was easy to see now why the other children seemed to be so fond of him. He was even kinder than Edward had been, and spoke as if he were on the same level. Still, Julian had been lied to and abandoned too many times. He didn't want to trust Stitch, and it made him sick that he had to fight himself to be stalwart in that opinion. The world didn't make sense, it just made him feel so used.

"No, you can't imagine it," Julian told the other boy, his voice almost a whisper. In the pallid moonlight, his features were fixed into a anguished scowl. "No one tells me anything, and no one listens to me. They just keep... shuffling me around..." He was too afraid to say more. The boy had helped him to avoid getting Julian into trouble, which was strangely generous. Edward had been that kind, too, but the boy hadn't done it out of any kind of obligation. Julian was so exhausted from all of this recent chaos. He wanted to trust Stitch, but he knew that would turn out just as badly as everything else had.

When the older boy blocked his exit, Julian clenched his fists. Who did this kid think he was? Julian had a right to go back to his cousin's. And besides that, Julian had an uncle, his mother's brother! Only once or twice had he heard his name mentioned, and Mother had never seemed particularly fond of him. But Julian was mostly sure he was in Syliras somewhere. Julian didn't have to grow up here, like this, emotionally isolated and grouped with a herd of orphaned children. He'd never needed his parents much before anyway, there was no reason it all had to change!

"You too?!" Julian cried desperately, his voice high-pitched and panicked. Why was everyone against him?! Closing his eyes, he curled his toes in the grass and dug his fingers into his hair, clutching at his locks momentarily in frustration. The older boy looked serous too, the way he was standing. He was only a few years older than Julian, but he was significant larger. The younger boy wouldn't have much of a chance. "Why isn't anyone listening to me?! I just want to go home. Everyone is saying to me, I understand, Julian. It's okay, Julian. Everything will be fine, Julian. I know what you must be going through, Julian, but no one does! It's never okay!"

Fear welling up in the pit of his stomach, he took a few steps forward, with every intention of fighting the other boy. Balling his fists again, he raised them defensively, waiting to see Stitch's reaction before he threw the first punch. "Fine. If this is what I have to do to get home, then I don't even care anymore. I'm stronger than I look, you know. My dad was a great fighter."

by **Stitch** on May 21st, 2011, 7:38 pm

"They shuffle you around because they can't take care of you. Or perhaps they just don't love you." Stitch was blunt and to the point, his voice still gentle, but firm and forward. He stepped forward a little bit, pointing a finger at Julian, physically accusing him of what he was about to say. "You know it. You just don't want to accept it. You think that if you fight and struggle, then you will be able to change something." Stitch shrugged, shaking his head, letting out a small sigh. "Do you really think you would be here if something could change? I saw the man who brought you here. He cared for you deeply, he did. But you are just another mouth to feed, just another hand to hold... and perhaps he couldn't handle it. So he took you here, where someone could raise you. Where someone could take care of you."

Stitch paused for a moment, and then suddenly, his eyes flashed, his eyes hardening. "Come to think of it, you are the first I can remember who has actually tried to run away. You have food, shelter, someone out there who still loves you... yet you want to go back, just to make yourself as much as a burden as possible. Are you really thinking straight? Or maybe you are just selfish."

The young boy spread his feet a little bit, settling into some sort of stance. If anything, he just look more firmly set in his position. He was in no way raising his hands to attack. Funnily enough, they just sat there at his side. He didn't look like he was going to try and forcibly move Julian back to the Orphanage. Not yet. "You are right. It probably won't be fine. This is a hard road to take. But you are going to walk it. And all of us will help you. We know what it is like. Perhaps not in the way you do... but we know."

Julian advanced, and Stitch didn't twitch. The older boy simply watched as Julian stepped forward, raising fists high, spewing out threatening words. Stitch blinked, and then raised an eyebrow. "Was your father a brat, too?"

With that, Stitch suddenly snapped out his foot, kicking straight up at the stomach of the boy. He was simply going to try and bury his kick right into Julian, just to knock his breath out. It was an odd way to deal with the young man. Most would probably consider consoling him with soft words and gentle touches. Not Stitch. Stitch was taking the harsher route.

by **Julian** on May 23rd, 2011, 9:58 pm

How could this boy say these things? There was no way he could possibly know Julian's situation, or understand him, but the way Stitch was saying them - gently yet insistently - Julian found it incredibly difficult not to believe everything he was saying. Involuntarily, he absolutely believed that Stitch was only trying to be honest with him, only being blunt out of necessity. Julian needed to be shown these facts. To be exposed to the raw reality of all of this.

More than that, however, Julian just didn't want it to be true. With everyone working against him, spouting comforting lies and kind words, he wasn't prepared for the this boy, who for once held Julian's better interests at heart, telling him that he wasn't loved, that he was being selfish, that it wouldn't all just be "fine." It was easier to think that this kid was just saying these things to hurt him. Even though, at heart, he knew the truth of it all, he began forcing himself to believe that this boy was just spewing venom.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" Julian hissed, feeling his eyes begin to sting. He blinked rapidly to clear them instead of wiping at them. Stitch couldn't know that he was on the edge of tears. "You're just saying that because you don't have family to go back to. You're stuck here, and because you're the older, you think you're better than me."

Was your father a brat, too?

"..." Julian was stunned by the question. If anyone had asked him that a week ago, he might have been compelled to defend his father's honor. But now, he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel. All he knew was anger.

The younger boy didn't have time to contemplate it further as the older boy suddenly lifted his leg to kick him. Julian had in truth never fought anyone before - he'd only wrestled occasionally with Edward, and with his own father, when he was very, very young. The child didn't have the reflexes or the experience to know what to do. Out of panic, he simply moved his arms in to block his face, but that wasn't where Stitch was aiming.

Before he knew it, Julian was on the ground, an incredible crushing force having emptied all the air from his lungs. In the damp grass, the boy lay on his side and wheezed as he gasped for breath. His fingers curled in the dirt, desperately clawing at the ground as he fought for his ability to breathe again. This had never happened to Julian before, and his mind was filled with terror. What was this?! Had Stitch mortally wounded him? Would he ever breathe again? Was he dying?

Slowly taking air back into his lungs in quick, halted breaths, he clenched his eyes shut and remained laying there. Pulling his legs to his chest he curled in the fetal position right there on the ground, in the backyard of the orphanage. He knew he looked ridiculous laying there, and he knew Stitch probably thought Julian was being needlessly dramatic. The boy felt a warm tear cross the bridge of his nose, but he didn't care anymore.

Everything really had changed, hadn't it?