This is technically a sequel/companion piece See You Next Week. However, it’s not necessary to read it to understand and enjoy this story. Criticism is welcome. I hope you enjoy it! :::: He left because Dell would never outright ask him to leave. And it wasn’t his sweet wife, nice Annie who made the best pancakes and insisted that he eat at the table even if he wasn’t easy to look at. She did insist that he didn’t use his lighter at the table, though. Dell was a nice man, but sometimes, he was too nice. He had a little girl on the way, and there were some things that a child could grow up with. Living with Pyro was not one of them. And he knew that, even if Dell wouldn’t admit it. “You keep in touch, son, you hear?†Pyro nodded, clutching a garbage bag full of clothes. Dell gave him his old jacket, worn patches and some holes on the elbows and pockets, because he said it was cold where he was going. “I mean it, Pyro. You better write or you bet I’ll be awful mad.†The easygoing smile made Pyro ache because Dell was sweet. He was going to be a great father. Pyro nodded, and he let Dell pull him into a hug even though he normally didn’t like physical contact. Getting on the bus was easy, and he watched Dell’s figure at the station until the dust and bright sun blocked him out completely. :::: It was a long ride; Pyro knew it would be because Texas was a ways away from where Heavy and Medic decided to settle down. He pulled on the wool gloves and adjusted his scarf as the temperature dropped and the bus doors swung open. A rush of snowflakes and narrowed blue eyes behind glasses greeted him. “It’s about time. Come on, I don’t like the cold.†He had a small blue Volkswagon and when Pyro got in the passenger’s side he saw that the seat was fitted and worn down to suit Heavy’s size. “We have squash soup waiting.†He could see Medic looking at him when he thought Pyro wasn’t looking. It was the first time that Pyro hadn’t had his mask on in front of the doctor. He’d forgotten about it because of how Dell hadn’t batted an eye and insisted that he come with him into his home. Medic wasn’t Dell, and he was still allowing Pyro to stay with him. And there would be soup. They made their way off the main road to a narrower dirt path that led to a stone cottage. The driveway had been shoveled, but judging by the snow, it would have to be shoveled again in the morning. Medic insisted on carrying Pyro’s bag, even though it made him roll his eyes. Medic opened the door and kicked his boots off on a mat in the hall. Pyro followed his example, but he didn’t take off Dell’s coat. When he turned the corner a huge hand clapped down on his shoulder. “Fire man!†Heavy’s voice boomed and his grip was just as strong as it was on the battlefield. It was a struggle not to wince. “We are happy to have you here.†Pyro mumbled and let Heavy lead him to the kitchen. Medic shivered and blew on his hands. Heavy and him started talking, and Pyro had picked up a little Russian and German since he spent so much time with them. What they were speaking was a bizarre blend of the two, and it made Pyro smile from behind his scarf. Some things never did change. Medic began to pour the soup into three large bowls, and his lips were curled into something that might have been a slight smile. “A friend gave us a recipe, she claims it’s quite good. This is the first time I’ve made it.†Heavy sat down next to Pyro, the wooden chair creaking under him. “Her mother made it. She promised it would be best soup we’ve tasted.†Medic’s smile turned slightly wicked. “If it isn’t, we’ll take it out of her tip.†Heavy shook his head and whispered to Pyro. “We won’t.†They didn’t make him talk much. It was nice. Pyro was used to talking to Dell and Annie, but new people… well, people who weren’t Dell and Annie were more difficult. Pyro tugged down his scarf low enough to expose his mouth, his twisted and burned lips curling when his fingers gripped the spoon. Medic spoke about the drive, and Pyro made noises of agreement at the right times. The soup was delicious. :::: Sometimes he’d still dream about what it was life back on the battlefield. Well, what he’d envisioned the battlefield to be—colorful scenes of paradise where laughter and creatures only children believed in roamed free. Where violence was nonexistent. Then he’d wake up and remember what was real. Pyro’s first night at Medic and Heavy’s was riddled with nightmares and memories, and he woke up with Medic’s hand catching the fist that Pyro automatically shot out. He was in blue pajamas and boxers, and Heavy was in the door, swallowing a yawn. “You’re all right.†Medic rubbed his eyes and allowed Pyro to take his wrist back. “You are safe.†Pyro didn’t say that the nightmares weren’t of blood, fire, and death. It was what he saw while was causing all the macabre in reality. But the only difference was that he knew what bubbles and rainbows really were. He sniffed and Medic stood up and left Pyro alone. Medic turned off the light but left the door cracked so the light from the hall stretched across the wooden floor. Pyro closed his eyes and thought of a flame, a small flame from a lighter. He focused on something so small and yet bright with all that potential to become stronger and lethal. It calmed him. He fell asleep, and no more memories plagued him for the rest of the night. TBC
Interesting, keep going.
Yes. Do go on.
woot! I remember your other fic. It was darn sweet. Looking forward to seeing more of this.
Oh dang! Now I'll have to look up the fic this one is a continuation of! This was really promising, and I'm looking forward to more!
Thanks for the comments, guys. I hope you enjoy the new chapter! Any and all thoughts are welcome. :::: Pyro liked the cold. Most people thought he liked the heat. He liked fire, but cold provided an excuse to wear several layers of clothing without rousing suspicion. He could keep on his gloves, padded coat, and scarf and no one would bat an eye. Dell was fine with Pyro being uncomfortable to leave the ranch. When Medic and Heavy invited Pyro to the diner, he accepted only because there had been a blizzard two days before and there were reports that it would happen again. All the more reason to bundle up. He pulled on his gloves and tucked them into his sleeves, buttoning up Dell’s old jacket and tucking his pants into his boots. He wrapped his scarf up around his neck and mouth before getting into the little blue Volkswagon, his body scrunched to fit into the tiny backseat. Heavy talked the most. He was most excited about what he was going to have for breakfast. While he was talking about strawberry pancakes, Medic was keeping a sharp eye on the road. Pyro stayed quiet, and when they pulled into the diner there were only a few cars there. The snow crunched under his boots and the cold air refreshed Pyro’s dry lungs. His breath fogged out from behind his scarf. He let Heavy and Medic go in first, their fingers bumping together. The bell hanging above the door jingled. Pyro moved quietly behind them, and a girl’s voice broke the quiet in the diner. “Good morning. Just go to your usual spot, coffee is just about done.†Pyro peeked out from behind Heavy’s massive shoulders to see a young woman in a pink dress uniform with blonde hair tied back into a ponytail. Her eyes widened. “Oh, hello.†Pyro didn’t know what to say—he rarely did. She smiled brightly, but Pyro saw that her eyes were determined to stay locked with his and not wander over the scars that Pyro couldn’t hide without a mask. “I’m Jenny.†Pyro murmured, the scarf helping mask his unwillingness for her to hear his voice. He shook her hand, and he liked her handshake. She wasn’t afraid to have a firm grip. Jenny looked to Medic and Heavy for help, for a name. When they didn’t provide one, she shrugged and left with another small smile. Pyro turned and followed Heavy and Medic to “their usual spot.†The seats were fake, red leather that squeaked when you sat down on them. Pyro sat next to Medic while Heavy occupied most of his side. Jenny came back with a cup of coffee for Medic and a tall glass of milk for Heavy. “I didn’t know what you wanted.†She smiled as she handed Pyro his menu first. “We’ve got milk, chocolate milk, coffee, apple and orange juice. Oh, and tea.†Her lips were pink, and lightly chapped around the edges. “What can I get for you?†The green, stitched yarn over Pyro’s mouth twitched when he cleared his throat. “Ch—†The sound of his own voice was a shock to his own ears. It was dry, a wheezing croak. “Chocolate milk.†Behind the yarn, Pyro’s cheeks felt warm. “Please.†She nodded and she left. Pyro opened the menu, and Heavy started saying what was good and what wasn’t. Pyro decided on French toast with strawberries and when she came back with his chocolate milk they were ready to order. Medic got “the usual,†Heavy ordered a mountain of pancakes, and when Pyro told Jenny his order she winked and said, “Good choice.†The food was good, not even close to Annie’s, but it was good. When Medic thanked Jenny for the soup recipe she grinned wider than Pyro had ever seen a woman smile. When they left, the only thing left on the counter was her tip, a paper tiger, and mindless swirls that Pyro doodled on the back of the paper placemat with a pen. :::: Pyro swung the hatchet over his head, grinning behind his scarf as another log flew apart. Medic had a job at the hospital, which was no surprise. Heavy would work with landscapers, because he was the only man in town who would lift stone and large logs without much trouble. Medic complained that they didn’t pay him equal wages, but Heavy smiled and said he didn’t mind. With all the snow plenty of people were sick and a handful of houses needed roofs rebuilt quick, so Pyro was left at Medic and Heavy’s cottage with an axe and a lot of wood. He wheeled the last load of firewood next to the door that led to the living room. Pyro fell back against the snow and stared up into the grey sky. He missed Texas. He missed Dell, and he missed the way Annie would hum in the morning. The ache in his chest made him yearn for the artificial bliss that BLU had given him—the pastel colors and twinkling music. He wanted that peace. He just wanted to not hurt anymore. Pyro flicked open his trusty lighter and watched the small flame dance in the breeze. He focused on the little stripe of warmth until his head stopped pounding and his skin stopped itching. A few minutes later, he sighed as he let his head fall forward, relief flooding his body as he flicked the lighter shut. :::: The diner apparently picked up in the afternoon. Pyro wasn’t sure what to do when he was assaulted with a barrage of noise once the bell jingled above his head. He clutched a ten-dollar bill in his hand, sweating under all his layers even though the chill was deep enough to chase away most warmth. A waitress, some girl with too much lipstick, raised her eyebrows at him. “How many?†Pyro was about to say ten dollars when he realized that she meant how many people were with him, even though he’d walked there and no one else was behind him. It was so noisy, people’s lips smacking together and the syrup and butter dribbling down their chins made Pyro nauseous. He realized that coming back was a terrible idea; he should have fought hunger until Medic and Heavy had come home. He never should have left Texas. The girl rolled her eyes and glared at him. “Hello? Did you hear me?†Pyro turned around and went back outside, his heart pounding and his fingers itching to burn it all down to the ground. He sat down against the building, under the windows, and took out his lighter. He pulled down his scarf so that he could yank off his gloves with his teeth, his fingers running themselves over the cold metal. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, just contemplating harnessing fire’s power again when a throat cleared above him. Pyro jumped and Jenny smiled, keeping a respectful distance between them. “Hey. Allison told me, um, someone ran outside.†She wasn’t wearing a coat, her sneakers slowly dampening in the snow. Whenever she exhaled a thick cloud of fog hovered in the air in front of her. “Here.†She bent down, her dress hugging her thighs as she stretched out her hand. She was holding a Styrofoam cup. “It’s hot chocolate.†Goose bumps sprung up on her skin when a cold gust of wind blew. Pyro took the cup just so that she could pull her hand away and rub her hands together. She stayed, without saying anything else, even though she couldn’t stop shivering. Pyro thrust his hand out, pushing the crumpled, damp ten-dollar bill into her hand before walking away with the hot chocolate. She called after him. She said, “This is too much!†But she wouldn’t run after him because the snow wasn’t shoveled enough and her tennis shoes would get soaked. Pyro kept walking until he was away from all the chewing and swallowing. He stopped, and he took a sip of the hot chocolate. It was… fantastic. (TBC)
This story makes me very happy, and the TBC on the end makes me even more happy! I can't wait for more! I am really enjoying things so far. If I had to offer any criticism it would be to be a bit less choppy in scenes. Whether it's done by making the scene's longer, tying them together, or another way, I do not mind. I just felt like the scene stopped right as I was really getting into it. Anyway, just my experience, I love it!
daaaawwww this is cute
Thank you for the lovely comments. I hope that these segments are a little less jarring. Let me know what you think! All thoughts are welcome. :::: Medic and Heavy didn’t come back until it was dark out, and Medic immediately chided Pyro for not even opening the refrigerator for food. Pyro was too hungry to feel indignant, and he mumbled that they had plenty of firewood. They had spaghetti that night, well, Medic insisted that it was “angel hair,†but it tasted great, unlike hair. Heavy had worked on a fallen bridge and he spoke of all the tiny Americans while Medic occasionally chimed in to fix Heavy’s English or inform him of a social cue that Heavy might have missed. When Medic talked about the hospital, it wasn’t hard to tell that he was bored. BLU had kept the Medigun and the rush of sprinting toward death with no consequence. The table was cramped and the floor was cold, but the fire burned hot and the conversation served as a numbing lull that Pyro could imagine growing comfortable with. Over dessert, Medic slid a yellow envelope across the table to Pyro. Pyro barely had to glance at the address before he ripped it open and scanned the page. He grinned, and when he looked up he saw that Medic was burying his own smile in apple crumble. Pyro couldn’t sleep, he was afraid of waking up screaming apologies and quivering with revulsion. He shut off the light so that Medic wouldn’t worry, but he did light a small candle and began a thought out letter to Dell. :::: I was about to write you myself, son. I got your letter, and just to let you know, you only need one stamp in the corner, not four. That will save you money. We miss you on the ranch, and Annie wishes she could send up some cornbread but it would go stale in the mail. Medic and Heavy better be taking care of you. Remember, you’re welcome in our home whenever you want, for as long as you want. If it gets too cold, or you just want to come home, Annie and I will be waiting. Take care of yourself firebug. Sincerely, Dell :::: They didn’t go the diner the day after that, or the day after that, but the weekend came and Medic, Heavy, and Pyro all piled into the Volkswagon. Once Pyro figured out where they were going he groaned. Medic caught his eye in the rearview mirror but didn’t press him. It was early so they sat themselves down in “their spot.†Pyro flipped his paper mat over and was doodling when Jenny came over, a cup of coffee, a glass of milk, and a glass of chocolate milk balanced on a tray. “Good morning, fellas.†Pyro refused to look up, even when she pushed over his chocolate milk. “You’ll have your usual, right, Doc?†Medic grunted. Heavy was looking over the menu, and he decided on waffles. Jenny’s pen dragged against her small notepad. “And you?†Pyro had to look up eventually; he just wished that he didn’t feel so prickly when he did. Jenny wasn’t frowning or staring at his scars. She just waited patiently. Pyro started to shrink back into the seat and before he could completely curl in on himself Jenny started talking again. “Maybe you want chocolate chip pancakes?†She scooted next to him and before Pyro could push her away he saw her reach to touch his menu. Out of her palm dropped the ten-dollar bill. “Or maybe eggs?†Pyro caught the money and tucked it carefully away in his pocket as Jenny maintained the charade until he mumbled through his scarf that he’d like an omelet. Jenny leapt up and went off with their order without another word. When she did return, somehow managing to carry all that food without dropping it, she blew her bangs out of her face and carefully handed them their plates one by one. When Pyro got his, he saw that a small box of crayons was tucked under his toast. :::: Back in Texas, Dell would play the guitar whenever he wasn’t working. Pyro liked listening to Dell play. When he did, it was like he didn’t mind what song he played, as long as his fingers were moving across something. Even so, every song, whether they had names or not, was easygoing without any air of pride to it. Dell played because he wanted to and enjoyed it, and not for any other reason. Pyro would think about that sometimes, when it was late at night in Medic’s stone cottage. He’d think about the way Dell would sing, and how that would calm Pyro down from whatever frenzy was eating away at him. He missed that guitar. Pyro couldn’t sleep and he crept out of bed and into the hall, thinking maybe he’d make himself a sandwich. When he opened his door, however, he paused because he heard music. For a hectic moment, Pyro fumbled with the door because the first thing he thought was that Dell was up for a surprise visit. His heart sank when the melody dragged out, and turned into the sound of a bow against strings and not calloused fingers against a guitar. Pyro was about to turn back around and hole himself up in his room when he heard laughter, Medic’s laughter, and the tune petered out. It wasn’t that Pyro hadn’t heard Medic laugh before, he’d laughed plenty in battle, though it was the kind of laugh that the rest of the team wasn’t exactly comfortable with. The laugh that Pyro heard wasn’t manic, it was unguarded and full of hitches of breath and helpless giggles. Pyro paused and tiptoed across the floorboards, stepping over the creaky parts. The laughter was coming from the living room, and Pyro peeked around the corner. Medic was sitting in his chair with his violin and bow and Heavy was on the couch. Medic’s tie hung loose around his neck and he was barefoot. Heavy was in his pajamas, and his big hands clapped over his own mouth. “Quiet.†Medic had to fight down giggles. “You’ll wake Pyro up.†Pyro remained on the other side of the wall, his back pressed against it as he knelt down. Heavy smiled at Medic. “You were laughing the loudest, doctor.†Medic’s cheeks were pink, and he tried to frown but failed. “Don’t be ridiculous.†Medic opened a case on the floor and it looked like he was going to put his instrument away, but Heavy sat up. “No!†Heavy recoiled at his own outburst before smiling up at his doctor. “One more, please?†When Medic brought his violin back up, he didn’t look annoyed. He dragged his bow across the strings. The melody struck Pyro as something that was old and sad, maybe a lullaby. Medic sang, and even though he wasn’t singing in English, it was beautiful. Pyro sat back against the wall and listened. It wasn’t Dell’s guitar… but it was a start. It ended, and Pyro didn’t have to take a peek to know the sound of kisses. He crept back to his room and closed the door without a sound. :::: Early the next morning, Heavy shook Pyro’s shoulders. After Heavy caught all the punches and kicks that Pyro instinctually threw at him, he smiled at his sleepy friend. “Quiet, fire man.†Pyro’s cheek flushed pink. He hated being out of control, and while he was glad he hadn’t hurt Heavy, the Russian should have known better than to wake Pyro up. “We have big day ahead of us.†Pyro shivered in the cold as he groggily pulled on his clothes. “I need you to get a tree that looks like this.†Heavy had a children’s book in his hand, and he illustration was something Pyro had seen many times. It was a hard symbol to ignore. Pyro rubbed his eyes before he pulled on his gloves. His scarf was a comfort against his lips, and he murmured, gesturing different heights with his hand. “This high.†Heavy’s hand stopped at his chest, about eye level with Pyro. “Hurry.†Pyro jogged out in the snow with his axe swinging in his hand. Snowflakes spiraled down as he searched the woods, creeping slowly like he was hunting an animal and not the perfect tree. Pyro moved between the snowflakes and he came to a clearing where the perfect pine tree was waiting for him in the center. The axe was a familiar weight in Pyro’s hand and when he swung it, he found that he couldn’t stop. He could have finished the job in three hard swings… but he kept going, over and over until he wasn’t certain what he was hitting anymore. Every thump of his heart was punctuated with a savage swing of his axe. He only stopped when he had to, when his knees were shaking too hard to keep him standing. Pyro’s fell back into the snow, and it took a few minutes of snow kissing his cheeks for his mind to catch up with him. He sat up, and he was relieved to see that the tree had fallen and was not mangled beyond recognition. The surrounding, older, thicker trees, however, Pyro could not say the same. The axe was buried deep in a thick trunk, and it took several hard pulls to get it out. Pyro dragged the perfect tree behind him. When he got back to the cottage, Heavy was polishing a Menorah until it sparkled brighter than any fire that Pyro had ever seen. Heavy turned when Pyro opened the door. “Very good!†He helped Pyro lug the tree in, shaking the snow off. “Perfect.†It took some work, but eventually Heavy was able to set the tree up in their living room. Pyro was sent to the kitchen, because as much as Heavy loved food he never seemed to be able to make anything more complicated than a sandwich. He merely asked Pyro, rather bashfully, if he could make a certain recipe that the Medic’s mother had sent over. Pyro took a look at it, and it didn’t seem too hard. By the time Medic came home, the cottage had transformed. It was bright, clean, and warm. The Menorah was on the mantle and Heavy had folded various origami animals to serve as ornaments. Pyro just finished the food and he sat back, wiping sweat from his forehead. “What…†It was dark out, because Medic’s days at the hospital always ran long. He pulled at his tie, his mouth slack when Heavy turned away from the tree. “Surprise!†Heavy smiled. “This is good surprise, yes?†Medic’s smile wobbled and Pyro turned away from their embrace, setting up the food as Medic showed just how much he enjoyed what they’d been working on all day. They ate, and Medic and Heavy drank wine while Pyro stuck to hot chocolate. They didn’t exchange presents; well, presents that were wrapped. Medic’s gift was food from home. Heavy’s gift was doctor’s love and the warm feeling of loving him in return. Pyro’s gift was the satisfaction of making something that yielded a good result… and that he had a good home with good friends. Later that evening, when the wine bottles were empty and the hot chocolate was finished, they sat by the fire and Christmas tree. Medic played his violin and Heavy sang songs from his home. Pyro listened, and when he fell asleep that night, there was a smile on his face. TBC
Wow that was simply adorable. I'm curious to see where this is going so please don't stop writing this.
ow my heart
This is a really nice fanfiction to read, and I enjoy every chapter. I can't help but wonder where this story is going, and I'm quietly hoping it will involve more than happy scenes only.
Thank you for the comments. Yes, this story isn’t going to be all fluffy scarves and rainbows. Just wait and see. All thoughts and comments are welcome! :::: During their short holiday together, Pyro made mountains of cookies, and while Medic complained about it being a temptation for Heavy, Pyro caught him sneaking cookies out of the pile. When they went to the diner it was well after the start of the new year. Pyro wasn’t prepared for Jenny to bring over a tray that held their drinks and boxes. She smiled and slid Pyro’s chocolate milk over to him first. “I got you all a little something, for the holidays.†Medic’s gift was a book full of recipes and Heavy was given origami paper, the thin kind with bright colors and patterns. Pyro’s gift was soft, unlike the boxes that Medic and Heavy got. Medic and Heavy had brought extra cookies for Jenny, but Pyro still felt a slight twinge of guilt because he hadn’t thought of getting her a present. Jenny bit her lip and Pyro quickly tore the wrapping paper so that she didn’t have to wait. Soft, blue fabric hit Pyro’s fingers. He paused, and when he looked up at Jenny her face was red. “My friend Ricky taught me how to knit and I made that—there’s a lot of holes and it’s okay if you don’t want to keep it.†Pyro kept pulling until he discovered it was a scarf. She was right; there were some holes and knots where she tied the yarn threads together when she ran out. It was far from perfect, and a lot of people would have found it ugly. Pyro swallowed and when he smiled he didn’t worry about how his twisted and burned lips would look. “Thank you.†Jenny grinned and when she took out her small notepad she almost dropped it. “You’re welcome.†She took a deep breath. “Now, what can I get for you?†Heavy went first, he always did, and Medic kept trying to catch Pyro’s eyes. Pyro took longer to answer because the feel of the wooly fabric beneath his fingers made him forget what he wanted for breakfast. :::: A small part of Pyro’s mind thought that the snow would never melt and that he’d be able to wear Jenny’s scarf and as many layers as he could every day. Alas, spring was determined to squash that feeble dream, and Pyro had never hated the sight of grass more. That, and Heavy and Medic decided to go on vacation for two weeks and they said they had full confidence that Pyro could take care of himself right before they sped off in their cozy Volkswagon. Pyro kept himself busy by exploring the nearby forest, trying to do anything that didn’t involve being near other people. Still, as the days went by, he felt a weird pull in the bottom of his stomach until he found himself outside of the diner in the afternoon. He rubbed his arms, and even long sleeves and jeans couldn’t cover up the obvious scars and burns. His hand shook as the bell rang, and if Jenny hadn’t been there right away Pyro would have turned around and left. But Jenny was there, and even if her smile flickered for a moment, it was nice to see someone familiar. Jenny’s eyes did a quick sweep of Pyro’s face now that she could see it before grabbing a menu. “There’s a booth in the back. It’s a little noisy, but um… if you want to stay—†Pyro nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Everyone was staring at him, at the scarred freak being led to a table. Every step he took echoed in the silent diner. When he turned to look over his shoulder everyone scrambled to start eating again. Well, everyone except a roundtable of men in camouflage, hunters. They glared at him, and when Pyro held their gaze, the one man sneered at him. “The fuck you lookin’ at, freak?†Pyro sat down, feeling more uncomfortable than he ever felt being killed and respawned on the battlefield. Jenny sighed as she slid the menu over to him. “Don’t pay attention to them.†Jenny rolled her eyes over at the rest of the diner. “You should have seen the fuss they kicked up when the doctor and Heavy were new in town.†Pyro tried not to shrink into his seat. Jenny offered a reassuring smile before walking away. Watching her white tennis squeak against the floor while the rest of the customers stared from her to him—it made Pyro’s skin itch. It made him want his flamethrower. It made him want to go back to the world of rainbows and bubbles where he couldn’t tell if the man under him was laughing or screaming. His fingernails dug into the paper mat, and the feel of his lighter in his pocket called to him— The bell above the door jingled, and someone brand new walked in. He was dressed in an impeccable black suit with hints of deep navy to it. A cigarette hung out of his mouth and his blue, scrutinizing eyes reminded Pyro of the war… The man caught his eyes and his lips curled into a smirk. He strode back to Pyro’s table with purpose and when he sat down and when Pyro smelled his cigarette smoke his burnt lips twitched. “Spy.†His voice was dry and cracked, and Spy’s eyebrows shot up. “I’d hoped it would take a little more time for you to recognize me.†Pyro had a smirk of his own his face as he began to flip through his menu. “It was your cigarettes.†Spy put out the object in question, smoke rising from the ashtray. He swiped the menu out of Pyro’s hands, scoffing at the choices. Pyro frowned even though he already knew what he wanted. Spy looked up from behind the menu. “Dell sends his well wishes.†Pyro perked up, his former annoyance forgotten. “His wife is due any day now. I bet she has a boy.†Pyro shook his head. “Girl.†Spy paused, then stuck out his hand. “Deal.†A throat cleared and Jenny was there. She offered Spy a polite smile before she gave Pyro his regular chocolate milk. “Hi, I’m Jenny.†Spy smiled, and Pyro hated him for a short moment when Jenny’s cheeks flushed and she glanced down at her notepad before looking at Pyro. “Our chef is doing his special grilled cheese today, the one that you really like.†Pyro’s earlier thought of French toast were gone. He nodded, smiling. Jenny grinned. “I thought so.†She began writing it down in on her pad, and right as she turned to take Spy’s order he sighed dreamily. “Jenny?†The waitress looked down at Spy, and Pyro frowned when his French companion flashed her a dazzling smile. “Enchante, madamoiselle.†He held out his hand and Jenny took it, most likely thinking that he was going to shake her hand and not place a kiss on the back of her palm. “I’m so glad that Pyro has made a friend.†It was very strange, even for Pyro, the course of events that happened next. At first, Jenny was flustered when Spy kissed her hand, but as soon as he kept talking, her expression darkened and she yanked her hand back. “I said, can I get you something, sir?†Any hint of charm had vanished. During his entire time coming to the diner with Heavy and Medic, Pyro had never seen Jenny act so cold. Apparently, Spy was not used to being rejected because he had the most shocked expression on his face. “Um, give me a moment.†Jenny left, her steps shorter and quicker. Pyro clutched his glass of chocolate milk tightly. “Why’d you have to make her mad?†Spy didn’t stop staring after her, his lips pulled down into a contemplative frown. “A kiss on the hand isn’t anything to get so upset over.†Pyro wouldn’t know. No one had ever kissed his hand before. He sipped his chocolate milk and doodled on his placemat, pictures of strange creatures in even stranger landscapes. He forgot that he wasn’t alone, and he looked up, remembering that conversation was sometimes expected in company—only the Spy was gone. Pyro straightened up in his seat. He hadn’t heard Spy slip away, and he’d left his cigarette. Right as Pyro was about to get up, Spy appeared, a strange smile on his face as he sat down, in a great mood and knowing what he was going to order. When Jenny returned, she seemed more relaxed but wouldn’t meet the Spy’s eyes whenever she spoke to him. The itch came back, but whenever he questioned Spy he kept saying that he’d tell Pyro later. It made Pyro frown because he didn’t want to wait. Jenny brought by the grilled cheese and it helped a little. :::: Spy was only going to be in town for a few days and of course he invited himself to stay at Heavy and Medic’s cottage. He had a black Cadillac and while he complained about the roads he drove to the cottage anyway. Pyro insisted that he sleep on the couch, and the Spy grunted but eventually agreed. Pyro watched the man stretch out on the couch from the doorway leading to the hall. He crossed his arms. “Where did you go in the diner today?†Spy cracked an eye open. “What?†Pyro narrowed his eyes and Spy chuckled. “Oh, that.†He laughed, snorting and until he had to wipe at his eyes. “I merely wanted to know what I did to earn the lovely Jenny’s rudeness.†Pyro still wasn’t laughing because he didn’t think it was funny. Spy sat up, his shoulders still twitching with amusement. “She thought I was picking on you. She’d never heard Heavy or Medic call you anything. She thought I was teasing you about your scars when I called you ‘Pyro.’ She was very cross until I explained that we worked together and it was a nickname that held no malevolence against you.†Pyro scratched at the scar tissue that dominated his face. “Oh.†Spy’s grin made Pyro uneasy. “She seemed quite protective of you. And here I thought you were an antisocial little firebug.†Pyro didn’t like the odd tone in Spy’s voice, like there was a punch line that Pyro wasn’t getting. The Frenchman started laughing again and it the Spy’s cackles followed him all the way to his room. He sat down at the small desk and waited until the house went quiet. He took out a piece of paper and a worn down pencil and began to write. :::: Ah, so Spy did come up around to see you. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, it’s hard to tell with him. The ranch is the same as you left it, except that we’re all walking on eggshells here because Annie is about ready to pop. I’ll send you a picture of our baby once he or she is out in the world. Keep me posted on everything. And who’s Jenny? Spy called here a few days ago and wouldn’t stop laughing about a girl named Jenny. Sincerely, Dell :::: Spy only stayed for two days, and on his last day Pyro woke up with a paper note on his stomach telling him that he should meet Spy at the diner. Pyro got dressed in record time and by the time he shoved the door open hard enough to nearly knock off the bell, he was out of breath and red in the face. It was early enough so that only a handful of people were there. Sure enough, Spy was at the table in the corner—and Jenny was sitting with him. She didn’t notice Pyro until he cleared his throat, trying to discreetly catch his breath. “Oh, um, good morning.†She got up right away, leaving the open seat for Pyro go fill as Spy smiled at her. “I’ll, um, be right back with your drinks.†Pyro sat down and Spy grinned at him. Pyro wanted to rip it off. “Come now,†Spy leaned back against the squeaky fake leather. “Starting the day with such a sour face can’t be healthy.†“What are you doing?†Spy shrugged. “Enjoying a nice breakfast before I go on my way.†He only stayed for toast and two cigarettes, and then he was gone. Pyro was still working through his waffles. Heavy and Medic would be back soon. He dragged a purple crayon across the paper and Jenny came by with the bill and a smile “Hey, um, Pyro?†Pyro looked up, his nickname sounding strange when she said it. “How is everything?†“Good.†His voice broke at the end of the world. Jenny looked around at the quiet diner, where no new customer had come in for a half an hour. She sat down across from Pyro, where Spy had been. “Your friend said that you’re good with fire.†Pyro lowered his fork. She had his complete attention as she leaned forward, her knees pressed together tightly. “I was wondering… well, are you interested in art at all? I have a friend who’s going to try his hand at glass blowing and ceramics, and that sorta has something to do with fire.†The bell above the door rang and Jenny shot up like she’d been electrocuted. “If you’re interested just let me know.†She hurried away to seat the other customers. Pyro sat, letting his waffles get cold. He wasn’t hungry. It had been time since he’d had anything more than a flame from a lighter. He… he hadn’t thought about going bigger. No, that was a lie. He always thought about going bigger. Every moment he closed his eyes he’d see the white flames that could bring so much damage so quickly. He had a feeling that the heat Jenny was talking about wasn’t the heat he was… intimately acquainted with. He let his eyes trace the scars on his hand, the white and shimmery webs of where flames had grabbed him and didn’t let go. What kind of rush would it bring? What sort of aid could he give? Pyro wasn’t an artist. He only knew how to burn. Jenny came back right as a cloud passed over the sun, sending a shadow over the diner. Pyro left the money on the table as he got up, pulling his sleeves down out of habit. “What kind of… stuff would I be doing?†When Jenny didn’t answer, her eyes a little wider than would be considered polite, Pyro continued. “For your artist friend.†“Oh.†Jenny looked around before lowering her voice. “What are you doing at six today?†Her tennis shoes were different colors, and Pyro realized that she must have multiple sets, with different illustrations on each. Her left foot bounced slightly, and Pyro looked up. He said that he wasn’t doing anything, and Jenny smiled. TBC
I love this fic so much you have no idea. The writing style is accessible, and the character development is subtle but not too slow. Everything is perfect, please continue
This story gets better with every chapter you upload, truly! Hence why I leave a comment at every update. I am enjoying this SO much! Please see this through to the end! I wouldn't be able to stand not knowing the rest!
Thank you guys so much for reading. I hope you guys stick with this… please let me know what you think, criticisms welcome! :::: Jenny drove a beaten up green car that she lovingly called “Henry†and she would kiss the steering wheel every time she got in and out of the car. The passenger’s seat, the one Pyro was currently sitting on, was chewed by what looked like a dog, but Jenny said she got it that way. They didn’t talk much, which Pyro liked. He kept thinking of things to say, but every time he tried it out in his head it sounded stupid. Instead, she put on the radio and they drove with the windows rolled down even though the air was chilly. Pyro liked the wind, and he liked the way Jenny would smile when her hair would fly around her face when they took a sharp turn. He was so distracted by it all that he was startled when he realized he had no idea where he was. She came to a stop outside of a big black gate with points on the top like they were expecting people to fall on them. Jenny put the car in park and leaned out of the door, her index finger pressing down on an intercom. “Ricky, it’s Jenny. I’ve got a friend with me.†â€Ooh, a friend? I’ll have to break out the good china.†Jenny rolled her eyes even though Pyro had no idea what the man was talking about. “Shut up and let us in.†There was a loud, electronic groan and the gates swung inward, letting Jenny’s car roll on through. The sun was just starting to sink below the horizon, but that didn’t take away Pyro’s vision. The walls that framed the driveway then opened into a wider space were murals, made of tiles, broken bottles, and pieces of cork. The wind blew, and Pyro heard bells—and he looked up to see chimes hanging off of the tree branches. Jenny stopped and smiled at Pyro’s gaping mouth. “Just wait until you see his house.†There was a stone path with Japanese styled lanterns hanging down, lighting the way. And they turned a corner—and Pyro saw exactly what Jenny was talking about. Ricky’s house looked like an opium addict had designed it. He used bright colors, vivid reds and oceanic blues with intricate swirls of bright emerald green streaking across the house. The windows had marble studs in them, and the roof was a Spanish tile. The door was round with a glass knob in the center, and Jenny opened it and stepped through into the front foyer, nodding for Pyro to follow. So he did. “Ricky?†Jenny stepped over throw pillows that were scattered along the floor. “Where are you?†“In the bathroom!†A voice shouted from the far side of the house. “I miss your fabulous face, come here!†Jenny smiled, her cheeks rosy and she shook her head. She went toward the voice and Pyro felt like he had no choice but to follow. She opened a golden door—and it revealed a bathroom that would have fit better in a palace. Everything was colored silver or gold, save for the few colored stones that were embedded into the metal. The bathtub was big enough to fit four people, and the water came from a golden turtle’s mouth. A man lounged in the tub, slices of cucumbers over his eyes. The water was soapy and had a pink hue to it. Pyro’s skin itched and he looked away from the bath. Jenny averted her eyes as well, but she grinned. “Come on, Ricky, at least put something on.†Ricky snorted at that, like clothes offended him in some way. He sat up, letting the cucumber slices drop into the water. One of his eyes was green, and the other was a dark brown. “Oh, hello.†Ricky’s eyes dragged over Pyro’s scars, and he wished he had lied to Jenny and said he was busy. “What sort of twisted quest brings you to my lair?†Pyro’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and no matter what he did it wouldn’t budge. Jenny, thankfully, saved him, her fingers brushing his elbow. “This is my good friend. His name is… you can call him Pyro. He’s good with fire, and I was thinking maybe he could help you out with your newest addition.†Ricky’s eyes widened, and that time when his eyes scanned over Pyro slowly, it wasn’t with amusement or morbid fascination with his burns… it was professional and almost clinical. Ricky got up without warning, dripping all over the place with no soapy suds to hide his nudity. Jenny squeaked and covered her eyes, turning around, while Pyro just looked to the side. “How rude of me!†Ricky stepped out of the bath without any hint of embarrassment. “Just follow me.†Thankfully, he slipped on a sleek black robe, tying the sash shut before he led Pyro and Jenny out of the bathroom. He didn’t give them a tour of the house or the rest of the grounds. Instead, he took them outside to an oddly plain looking building, a warehouse. Ricky yanked open the doors and exposed the concrete flooring with a massive furnace inside. “I like learning, I’m young, and I’ve got room to grow. And this is my new baby.†Ricky gestured grandly to the large space. “Glass.†Pyro had no idea what Ricky was getting at. Glass was what windows were made of. Ricky seemed to think differently as he stared at Pyro who was staring at the still burning coals. Jenny watched the both of them. The coals crackled and even though it was spring and it was plenty warm out, Pyro finally felt comfortable. He jumped when damp fingers bumped against the back of his palm. Ricky was close to him, his skin damp and his eyes bright. “Want to see how it works?†Pyro nodded and Ricky grinned. :::: Medic agreed to drive Pyro to Ricky’s every morning before he went to the hospital. They had to wake up early and Pyro was handed a bagged lunch and as informed that he was going to have to make his own from now on. It was a quiet drive, this time Pyro kept his eyes alert and memorized the route. “Be careful here, Pyro.†Pyro turned, his eyebrows raised. Ricky was weird, sure, and he didn’t care whether or not he was clothed in front of new people, but Pyro knows a dangerous man when he sees him, and Ricky wasn’t dangerous. “He… he has a certain reputation. He’s a known homosexual.†The car lurched when Medic came to a stop outside of the gate. Pyro frowned. “You are a homosexual.†If Medic denied it, Pyro wouldn’t know what to think. He’d be confused. Because if Medic honestly believed that Pyro would buy it— “Yes, but Heavy and I don’t advertise it. The people in this country are not open-minded about… this sort of thing. Certain people are exceptions, but not a whole town.†Pyro opened the door and left. Medic drove away as Pyro pressed the button for the intercom. “I’m here.†The gates opened, and Pyro stepped inside. The first day was mostly just Pyro learning the ropes, and he found that he couldn’t keep on a long sleeved shirt, not with all the heat they were working with. He was down to his work pants and a white tank top, gloves covering his hands as he worked with the glass. Pyro thought Ricky would be a talker, but when he was working they didn’t speak at all. They had the radio on, and sometimes Ricky would sing along under his breath but that was it. When they took a break for lunch, Pyro hadn’t even realized how hungry he was. His stomach growled and Ricky laughed. “I agree with you, buddy. Come on, let’s eat.†For such a skinny man, Ricky had a lot of food and he wasn’t afraid to eat as much as he could. Pyro wasn’t sure what they were having, but it had an exotic taste and he couldn’t help but reach for more when Ricky offered. They sat on the porch, sweaty and full, when Ricky let his head roll to the side to fix Pyro with a lazy glance. “I’ll bet you get all the girls with your mysterious, silent act.†Pyro didn’t react and slipped another piece of chicken into his mouth. “Boys?†Ricky narrowed his eyes. “Girls.†Ricky lit up a cigarette falling back onto some throw pillows he’d dragged out earlier. “You got one?†Pyro looked back at Ricky. “Got what?†“A girl.†Pyro shook his head and Ricky sat up, smoke curling out from behind his teeth. “Why not?†Pyro raised his eyebrow, and then slowly gestured to his entire, burned and twisted face. He wondered if Ricky was being deliberately cruel, and if so, Pyro would leave. Ricky stared at him, and Pyro turned away, ready to get up but Ricky’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Hey. Now quit that, you’re acting like you’re some horrible monster. I bet if you quit slouching and worrying about whether or not people are so concerned with your scars, you’d get a kiss if you tried.†Pyro laughed even though Ricky hadn’t been telling a joke. Ricky rolled his eyes and kept Pyro in place with two strong hands. “I’m serious. Look, just… here, keep your shoulders down, no one’s going to hit you. Nope, no, you keep looking at me and not at your shoes. Your shoes, frankly, aren’t as fascinating as me.†Ricky’s fingers threaded through Pyro’s hair, pushing the most of it out of Pyro’s face, making him squirm. He left a few strands to dangle in front of Pyro’s eyes, but not nearly enough to make Pyro feel comfortable. “Let people see your face. See? I’d kiss you.†Pyro laughed because Ricky loved beautiful things, he loved looking at them and making them. Ricky wouldn’t be caught dead kissing— Soft lips surrounded by rough stubble pressed against his. Pyro’s eyes widened as Ricky’s fingers ran down the back of Pyro’s head, stroking his hair right before he pulled away. Pyro’s lips buzzed. He wiped his mouth with his hand instinctually, and Ricky laughed. “Make sure you don’t do that when a girl kisses you. I’ll let you off the hook this time.†Pyro kept rubbing at his face. “Your beard felt weird.†Ricky laughed and hit Pyro’s shoulder. “Well, luckily for you, a lot of girls don’t have ‘em.†Ricky got up. “Come on, let’s go. If we do good work today I’ll make you dinner too.†Pyro ate a lot, maybe a little too much, and he lagged behind Ricky on the way back. :::: Pyro liked having something to do beside wander the woods and look for lumber to cut. He was pretty sure Heavy and Medic liked it too because he was out of the house often, which gave them the time to leave bite marks beneath each other’s collars. It was a Friday night Ricky and Pyro were getting the hang of shaping and molding the glass. It took a lot of heat and a lot of lifting, but Pyro liked the burn in his muscles. He liked making thing with spirals, thin glass tubes and Ricky thinks they’d make great vases. Ricky’s work was much more detailed, and that afternoon when Ricky had finished, the clear, detailed body of a naked woman was arching her back in water while looking upward. “Hm…†Ricky let the woman cool on the table. She looked like an angel caught in blue waves. But she wasn’t scared, she was… happy. Pyro jumped when Ricky nudged him, and he quickly looked away. “There’s no shame in appreciating the human body. It is very beautiful.†Ricky winked. “That’s the perk of being an artist, Pyro. People will take off their clothes if you say you want to study their… exquisite form.†Pyro wasn’t like Ricky; he was only good at the basics. He shrugged and Ricky grinned right as the door slid open. Jenny was there in jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. Her hair was down and Pyro’s throat was dry when she smiled at him. “Hey. Are you two working hard?†Ricky smiled as Pyro remembered his complete lack of sleeves. He went to grab for his shirt that would cover up his arms, but Ricky stomped on his foot. “Oh yeah. Pyro here’s a workaholic.†Ricky slung his arm around Jenny’s shoulders. “What do you say we get you out of these clothes so Pyro can practice some charcoal sketches?†Jenny rolled her eyes, her cheeks red as she walked out of the warehouse with the two of them. “If it actually was for Pyro’s art, I would consider it. But because you’re just teasing me, no.†Pyro felt like his face was on fire—but he knew it wasn’t because it didn’t hurt like the one time it had been. He sputtered, his voice a trembling leaf in a storm. “W-What?†Jenny laughed, though she was scarlet too. Ricky just looked between the two of them before he reached for Pyro with his other arm, so that Ricky walked between them. “Come on. Let’s order pizza.†Pizza reminded Pyro of the war. Pizza was a rare commodity, but when there, it was like the whole team wasn’t at war and they were just a bunch of friends over for dinner. They’d drink their cheap soda and beer and eat their crappy pizza, the kind where the cheese was thick and one bite would cause it to slide all off in a lukewarm blob. But that didn’t matter to them, what mattered was the stories they’d share. Ricky put on a record as he bit into a pizza slice that was made right. Pyro and Jenny were drinking ice water while Ricky drank wine. Ricky told Jenny about how Pyro was getting pretty good at shaping glass, and that maybe he would teach him how to sketch next. Jenny shook her head and leaned her head against Pyro’s shoulder. They were lying back on pillows, Ricky on the far side, Jenny in the middle, and Pyro next to her. As the food settled in their stomachs and the music played on, Pyro felt his eyelids get heavy. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep; he just woke up some time later. He jumped a little because there was a slender hand on his chest. Jenny’s chest rose and fell with even, deep breaths and her head was still on his shoulder. Her lips were parted and they were a soft shade of pink. Her blonde hair was soft when Pyro touched it. He couldn’t help it, his hand taking a moment to revel in the feel of it before he squeezed her shoulder. “Jenny?†Her nose twitched and her eyes opened slowly, her long lashes fluttering as she woke up. “Pyro?†She didn’t make a move to take her hand away from the thin layer of cloth separating her hand from Pyro’s skin. “How long was I asleep?†“A while.†Ricky stood over them, grinning widely. “Long enough for me to snap two adorable pictures.†Jenny grimaced. “You’re such an asshole, Ricky.†Pyro sat up, and when he offered his hand to help her up, she took it. Ricky waved and retired to his bedroom and he left Pyro and Jenny out in the main hall. It was dark out and Jenny rubbed her eyes. “You need a ride home?†Pyro nodded, and they drove with the windows down and the radio on. Jenny stopped at the beginning of Medic’s driveway. She put the car in park and the music drifted out of the windows. Pyro twisted the long sleeved shirt he had on his lap; Ricky refused to let him put it on, even when he tried to claim it was cold. Ricky knew he was lying. “Thank you.†Jenny’s smile made Pyro forget about trying to subtly cover up his scars. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you and Ricky are friends. He’s a good guy.†Their hands bumped, because Pyro wanted to feel her hands and she was going for the gear in the center consol of the car. She didn’t pull away; instead she moved her hand up so that she touched his wrist briefly. “Good night, Pyro.†Sometimes they would show movies back during the war, old black and white ones where everyone was beautiful and had the perfect thing to say for every situation. If Pyro were in one of those movies, he’d know what to say. Maybe he’d get to hold her hand or feel her hair again. But Pyro wasn’t in a movie. He wished her a goodnight and got out of her car. TBC
UURRRRRR!!! Why does it always end when I'm about to explode?! I want more, MORE, MORREE! In all seriousness, I've been enjoying this fic a LOT! And the idea of missing a new chapter during my vacation almost makes me dread my wonderful holiday... Oh... Please update soon so I can come back to a collection of awesome?
uh oh Ricky is getting creepy
Thank you so much for the comments, I hope to hear from you on the update. All thoughts are welcome! :::: Can’t write much, my hands won’t stop shaking— We’ve had a girl! A beautiful girl, and we’ve named her Grace. Dell :::: Heavy, Medic, and Pyro had all crowded around the phone as soon as Pyro got the letter. Dell was still so overjoyed that most of the things he said were hard to understand through his choked voice. A day later they got an unmarked package in the mail with a big jar of chocolate milk mix. There was a note taped onto it with elegant handwriting that simply said, “Good call.†Pyro took the mix. It smelled like Spy’s cigarettes. It was great, and Dell sent them all pictures of his new baby daughter. Pyro kept one in his wallet. Ricky noticed a difference right away. They had moved onto ceramics, and Ricky’s hands were covered in clay when he finally turned toward Pyro. “Okay, what is it?†Pyro was knuckle deep in wet clay, unsure if he was going to make a bowl or something else. He liked losing himself in the feel of the slick, cold pull of it against his scarred skin. “You’ve been humming all morning.†Pyro took his hands away and wiped them on his jeans, making his way over to Ricky because he was in the middle of spinning his clay into a vase. “A friend of mine has a new daughter.†Pyro made sure his hands were clean when he pulled the picture out of his wallet. “Her name is Grace.†Ricky finished the curl around the rim of the vase and he stopped the clay from spinning. He got up and peered at the picture—and then slapped his still dirty hands against his cheeks. “Oh, wow.†Ricky jumped up, stripes of clay on his cheek. “We need champagne.†Pyro shifted awkwardly, not wanting to refuse but he didn’t exactly drink. “Don’t worry, I remember. The champagne is for me. For you… I’ve got something extra special.†They went to the kitchen and Ricky popped open a champagne bottle as he sat Pyro down on a chair with uneven legs. Ricky picked up a knife and took out a bar of chocolate. He began cutting the bar until it was thing shreds of chocolate. Then Ricky grabbed a goblet, the kind that always caught Pyro’s attention but he assumed it wasn’t for use because it was so beautiful and detailed, and filled it with milk. Ricky shook the chocolate shreds into the goblet and stirred it all together with a spoon. He leaned on the table and slid the goblet over to Pyro. “I saw them do this at a restaurant in New York once. My interpretation may not be as perfect as theirs, but I gave it a shot.†Ricky stared at Pyro while he took the first sip like Pyro’s opinion was the only thing that mattered. The chocolate hadn’t completely mixed into the milk but the small bursts of extra chocolate flavor that rolled over his tongue made a noise escape Pyro’s throat. Ricky grinned, his chest puffing out a little as he sipped his champagne. At first, when Pyro and Ricky first started working together they only did ceramics and glass because it dealt with high heat. Ricky always shied away from the heat while Pyro wasn’t afraid to get so close he could feel his skin tighten and recoil. However, as time went on, and the number ceramic and glass pieces grew, Ricky moved on to different mediums. Pyro could tell that today was going to the last day for ceramics. Sure enough, after lunch Ricky nudged Pyro. “You want to take a stab a charcoal sketching?†Pyro remembered the last time they talked about that and his face turned red before he had a chance to try and stop it. Ricky laughed, his eyes watering by the time he was done. “Relax, lover boy, we’re going to start with still life, not naked women.†Ricky laughed again, his arm around Pyro. “The look on your face!†Pyro smiled and they were in a different studio that was in Ricky’s house, not a separate warehouse where Pyro was used to working. The room was considerably smaller and Ricky set up some fruit in a bowl. He took out a large sketchbook and a stick of charcoal. “It’s all about the shading.†Ricky sat Pyro down at the table. “My teacher in grade school, he would give me a picture and turn it upside down and said that I’d have to draw an exact copy like that. At first I thought he was fucking with me, trying to get me mad or to react, but it was all a lesson that if we can look past trying to make things look a certain way—to stop thinking of hands as hands and eyes as eyes—and to look at everything we see as lights and darks.†Pyro held the charcoal stalk but he didn’t touch it to the paper. Ricky’s fingers moved Pyro’s until they held the charcoal right, and then he moved his hand over Pyro’s and held it over the paper. “It’s always scary to make the first mark. I’ll help you this time, but every time else you’re on your own.†Ricky moved Pyro’s hand and left a dark black mark at the lower end of the page. He withdrew away from Pyro left him to work. Ricky was right… it was scary at first, tarnishing the off-white paper. But after a while, after Pyro stopped worrying and started sketching, it wasn’t so bad. Pyro liked working with Ricky because they didn’t need to talk to fill the silence. Sometimes they would play music, but mostly it was just the sound of them working on their own pieces. And Pyro knew he wasn’t very good, not like Ricky was. But he liked losing himself in the work; he liked focusing on something that didn’t leave him with new burn scars or colorful nightmares. He liked… working on something that didn’t hurt anybody. He focused on the way the light fell on the apples and oranges, the way the bowl’s shadow crept along the wooden table. His fingers were black and even when they went numb he still kept going. He brought vases and some of his glass experiments home to Medic and Heavy. Some were crooked and didn’t sit right on flat surfaces but they were kept with the rest of the glasses. As Pyro shaded and smudged the charcoal with his finger, he thought about the vase he didn’t bring home. It was simple and skinny with designs that he’d etched in with a pencil. It wasn’t grandiose like the vases Ricky made, where the point wasn’t to put flowers in it but to look at the vase itself. No… it was sweet, simple, and it would look fine by itself or with a few flowers in it. Pyro wanted to give it to Jenny. It reminded him of her. When Pyro was done with the fruit he moved onto the background, to the unfinished bookshelf and the half-drawn curtains. He kept going and going and when he finally dropped the charcoal he couldn’t feel his hand. He kept rubbing his palm with the fingers he could feel, and when he turned around to Ricky, he saw that Ricky had been drawing the whole time too. He got up on shaking legs and walked on over just as Ricky finished with his signature. It was a sketch of Pyro. Ricky’s style was more about the fantastic and the exaggeration of features and things that he sees. When Ricky paints a flower, it has bright colors and impossible shapes hidden in the petals. During his entire time with Ricky, Pyro hadn’t seen him paint anything close to realism. The sketch of Pyro was… it looked like a photograph. The lighting was exaggerated to bring out his scars, and his hair was right where it should have been, half pushed back and half hanging in front of his eyes. Ricky leaned back in his chair. “I’m keeping this, don’t even try to use the puppy-eyes on me.†Pyro laughed and Ricky ended up laughing with him all the way to the sink where they took their time washing their hands. :::: Usually Medic, Heavy, and Pyro were the only people in the diner right as it opened… but then hunting season started. Pyro didn’t care about hunting one way or another. But he did care that the hunters were rude. The one in particular, the leader or the man who believed he was an alpha male. He had short blonde hair that he’d buzz cut down to the skin, and dark brown eyes that almost looked completely black in certain lights. His teeth were crooked and bent, and whenever he’d sneer at Heavy and Medic when they walked past it made Pyro squeeze his lighter in his hand. The man must have seen Pyro glaring at him, and he grabbed Pyro’s wrist. “You mad, freak? You gonna stick up for your faggot friends?†Medic’s shoulders jumped but he kept walking. Pyro leaned in close and didn’t flinch at the hunter’s rancid breath. “If you don’t let go of my hand you’re going to lose it.†Pyro wasn’t kidding. He didn’t know how to tell a lot of jokes and when he did he usually messed up the punch line. Ricky was teaching him how to get better. But Pyro wasn’t trying to joke then. He would take the man’s hand; he’d rip it off if he had to. He’d done it before. The hunter narrowed his eyes but flung Pyro’s wrist away like it had bitten him. Pyro stalked off to their table and sat down, his eyes downcast because if he looked at the hunter any longer he’d burn the whole town to the ground. “Ignore him.†Medic shifted uncomfortably next to him, reading the morning paper. “It’s none of our business.†Pyro clenched his fists tightly, taking a breath to disagree, but Medic kept talking. “That is the Sheriff’s brother. He’s not a man we’d like to cross.†Medic sighed and put the paper down. “It’s tough enough living here as it is… if people aren’t speculating about our sexuality they’re worried that we’re Communists.†Heavy didn’t say anything; he just had this expression that looked hurt. Like he wanted to hold the Medic’s hand but couldn’t because they were out in public. It made Pyro dizzy, he was so angry. “It is not like the war.†Heavy’s shoulders dropped, like he didn’t dare look back at the man half his size, at the man that he could easily pulverize. “Things were simple back then. Is not simple now.†Pyro stayed silent, not because he agreed, but because he didn’t want to open his mouth for fear of screaming. When Jenny came around, she saw that something wasn’t right and she took their orders quickly and quietly. When Medic and Heavy went up to the cashier to pay, Jenny appeared at Pyro’s side, her hand on his arm. “Is everything okay?†Pyro shook his head… his fists still clenched so hard that he was fairly certain that his fingernails had cut into his palm. “I get off work at six. I could come swing around, we can go somewhere.†Pyro’s shoulders relaxed just a little and his heart swelled in that moment. “I’d like that.†:::: Jenny came by at six thirty, and Pyro had been waiting at the end the driveway for the past hour, he’d been nervous and Medic couldn’t stand him pacing around. She leaned over to open the door for Pyro, and when he closed it she offered him a crooked half smile. “Do you like ice cream?†Fifteen minutes later they were outside of an ice cream parlor. Pyro looked at all the flavors, not knowing where to begin. They all sounded wonderful. Jenny licked her lips. “My advice, go for a seasonal flavor. They’re always the best ones.†Pyro got peach, and Jenny picked mango. The parking lot was deserted and they went to a picnic table. Pyro lifted the spoon to his mouth… and Jenny was right. The natural sweetness filled his mouth and Pyro felt better than he had all day. Jenny made a happy noise of agreement, and for a while, they just enjoyed the hushed quiet between them, watching the sun sink down below the mountains. Jenny’s shoes that day were made up of blue and silver waves with golden shells stippled on. Pyro’s tongue tasted like cold peaches and he wished he could articulate his anger gracefully, but he didn’t know how. Every time he thought about what had happened in the diner—how Medic and Heavy just accepted it, Pyro’s vision went red and his desire to burn everything down was so strong it scared him. He feared that if he gave in… nothing would escape the fire, that people who didn’t deserve to burn would be lost in the flames. “Was it Buster Owen?†Pyro turned at Jenny’s question, and Jenny elaborated. “He’s the Sheriff’s brother, he… he’s usually at the diner with his hunting buddies.†Pyro tried to speak but a crackle made both of them jump. Pyro had squeezed his plastic spoon and broke it in half. He ducked his head down. “Sorry, I’m sor—†Jenny’s hand squeezed his arm. “It’s okay.†She laughed, her paper cup empty. “A lot of people don’t like him. Well, a lot of… younger people.†The sky faded from vivid red to a dusky purple, and if they craned their necks back they could see the very first stars twinkling in the sky. Pyro’s boot bumped against Jenny’s for a second, but he pulled it away because he didn’t want to get her shoes dirty. “He shouldn’t have said those things to Heavy and Medic.†Jenny’s eyes slid away from his. “I know.†Jenny slid her shoe to the side of Pyro’s boot. She shivered and laughed. “Ice cream tastes so good but it always makes me cold.†She reached up and pulled her hair tie out of her hair, letting it fall down to her shoulders. “It’s a double-edged sword.†Pyro hadn’t been able to move while Jenny’s hair fell down. He wished she wore it down more often. However, when she rubbed her hands over her bare arms, Pyro’s fingers were popping the buttons open on Dell’s jacket. He shrugged out of it and put it over Jenny’s shoulders. He’d seen it done in a movie once. Jenny smiled and she looked like she was going to protest but then she pulled the jacket tight around her. “Oh wow, okay, that’s warm.†She buttoned it up and her fingers barely peeked out of the sleeves. It was much too big for her and didn’t hug her body close like other women’s jackets did… but Pyro thought she looked perfect in it. They sat at the picnic table even though they were done eating, and as it grew darker Jenny ended up closer to Pyro until they were arm-in-arm. They stayed until they were the only people left; until the ice cream parlor had closed and only light was from the moon. Eventually Jenny pulled away and went to start the car, and she’d left the radio on. Pyro was about to open the door when Jenny held up her hand. “Pyro… have you ever danced before?†The song playing was old, so old that it even crackled on the radio. Pyro pictured soldiers dancing to it during World War II. He shook his head. Jenny smiled. “Good, me neither. Well, not really.†She walked up to him and when she directed his right hand to be on her waist Pyro gulped. “But I don’t know how—†Jenny smiled and put his other hand on her shoulder. She followed suit until they were close, the music floating out of the car’s speakers. “You’ve seen movies though, right?†Pyro nodded, his tongue dry in his mouth. “Come on. It will be fun.†When Pyro still didn’t move, Jenny’s smile wavered. “Please?†Pyro moved and soon Jenny was smiling again. It was awkward at first, and they stepped on each other’s toes. At first Pyro apologized but every time he did Jenny would step on his foot on purpose. As the songs switched, they waltzed in the empty parking lot. Eventually they weren’t afraid and nervous about messing up anymore, and as the strings in one song swelled, Pyro lifted Jenny up and spun around, he’d seen it done in a musical. Jenny squealed but her laughter made Pyro confident that he had made a good move. They spun and spun until the song ended and a commercial for a car dealership came on. Pyro kept her lifted. Jenny smiled and her wrapped around his neck, her shoes bumping against his shins. Jenny pulled back, just so that she could see him, so that she could look into his eyes. Their noses touched and Pyro’s fingers tightened on Jenny’s waist. She jumped a little. “Sorry, I’m, uh, ticklish.†Pyro felt his lips twitch and Jenny started giggling. “Please, please, please don’t tickle me, Pyro.†It was tempting, but he nodded. “Okay.†He lowered her gradually so that when her shoes touched the pavement it wouldn’t be a surprise. “I won’t. This time.†Jenny rolled her eyes and they went back to the car, turning down the commercial. Pyro’s heart was pounding, and he knew that most men would be disappointed that they didn’t get a kiss, Pyro couldn’t have been happier in that moment. And when Jenny reached across to squeeze Pyro’s hand, their fingers tangling together for a few seconds… Pyro couldn’t have stopped smiling if he tried. TBC
Medic liked teaching Pyro all kinds of things. Whether it was how to stitch up a wound or the correct way to pour wine, Medic liked seeing Pyro learn and improve. Today’s lesson was telling how a fruit was ripe or not. Some were easy, grapes were pretty standard, but there were tricky ones, like pineapple, where Pyro didn’t even know where to begin. “The trick is the leaves on the top.†Pyro’s palm twitched because the leaves were rough to the touch, well, the tips of them were. “Here, pull one out.†Medic watched from behind his glasses as Pyro tugged on a leaf, and it took a little force to get it out. “Ah, see, that is not ripe. Try the next one.†Pyro took another pineapple into his hand and he barely touched the leaf before it fell off. Medic smiled. “Ah, that’s the one.†They put it into the cart and rolled on. Pyro saw Jenny and she waved, smiling before moving on. Medic saw and nudged Pyro with an almost playful expression on his face. “You two have become fast friends.†“We danced the other night.†Pyro let it slip and he figured that he had to continue. “We got ice cream and then later we danced.†The memory alone was enough to make Pyro smile again even if made the mother with her two children in front of them gasp and turn away. Medic grabbed pancake mix from off the shelf. “You danced? Do you even know how to dance?†Pyro ducked his head. He was glad Ricky wasn’t there because every time Pyro would duck his head when Ricky was around he’d get bits of scrap flicked at him. “No… but she didn’t either.†Medic clicked his tongue and shook his head. “That doesn’t make it better.†Two hours and one unloaded Volkswagon later, Medic began to set up a dusty phonograph. He kept sighing as Heavy heaved a bunch of records in a crumbling box out of the basement. Medic put on a crackly old waltz melody and Pyro groaned. Medic glared at him. “I’m doing you a favor. Now come here.†He yanked Pyro toward him as Heavy began to sort the records. “You put your hand on my waist and the other on my shoulder.†Heavy laughed but Medic held Pyro’s gaze, daring him to look away. “I can’t believe they didn’t teach you this at school.†Pyro didn’t tell Medic that they’d tried, but Pyro refused to let anyone touch him. “I will lead this time. After this, you will lead.†With Jenny it had been fun, but Medic took it very seriously and they didn’t stop until Pyro hadn’t stepped on Medic’s toes or made him trip for six songs in a row. After that, Pyro collapsed on the couch and only moved when Heavy woke him up hours later, saying that they’d left food for him in the refrigerator. Medic was waiting in the kitchen as Heavy lumbered toward their bedroom. The pasta they’d made was cold, but that didn’t matter to Pyro. Medic handed Pyro a cup of chocolate milk. Pyro smiled a little. “Thank you.†“You’re welcome.†The wind made the windows rattle and Pyro sat down in his chair, the blue one with chipped paint and the uneven legs. He spun his fork around the pasta lazily, and when he looked up he saw that Medic was still there. When Medic caught Pyro’s eyes he raised his eyebrow. “You’re not a bad dancer, you know.†Pyro mumbled another “thank you†around the cold pasta, but Medic waved it off. He left to go back to his bedroom, and Pyro swallowed. He felt comfortable… more comfortable than he had at Dell’s. It made him happy… and ache because he thought no home would ever be like Dell’s home. Pyro sat there with his chocolate milk until the sky began to show hints of light. :::: You sound like you’re having good time up there with Heavy and Medic. Tell me more about your new friend Jenny. She sounds like one special girl. Being a father… nothing quite prepares a man for it. It’s been crazy, but Grace doesn’t cry as much as I thought she would. And if she does, nothing calms her down like a quick tune on my guitar. Annie sends her love, she misses you something fierce. Keep writing, kiddo. When Gracie gets older we’d love to come up and visit you. Dell :::: Ricky had a truck he barely drove, but when he did it was to get supplies and he rarely went to stores. Pyro was knee-deep in glass bottles at the recycling center, searching for the odd blend of blue-clear glass that only certain soda bottles had. He looked over at Ricky, who was digging through scrap metal. Pyro had a big trash bag, and it took a few hours, but eventually he filled it. He climbed out of the dumpster, his boots making the wooden boards creak as he walked down the steps. Ricky was done too and he lugged two burlap sacks behind him. Apparently Ricky and the owner were friends. Pyro waved to the man in question as they loaded up the truck. “There are some clay beds in a park on the other side of town. We’ll go there next and be back home in time for lunch.†Pyro nodded and his hand was on the door to the passenger’s side when tires screeched next to him and too-loud laughter made the tiny hairs on the back of Pyro’s neck stand up on end. It was another truck, one filled with half open bags where the music blasted. Buster Owen opened the door. He leered at Ricky and Pyro, his teeth flecked with spit and coffee grinds. “Didn’t know this place was turnin’ into a Queers R Us.†Ricky rolled his eyes. “You used that one before, Buster. Think of something new before I get bored of your ugly ass.†Buster spit and walked away, laughing like he was the funniest comedian around. Pyro got in the truck and Ricky slammed the door before he put the truck in reverse. He turned the truck around, and something burst against the front window. Pyro turned in time to see the broken shards of the former bottle drop away and Buster curled in on himself laughing. Ricky kept driving, not speeding up or slowing down. When Pyro looked over, Ricky’s knuckles were bone-white on the steering wheel and his eyes were shining. “And that…†Ricky’s voice cracked and Pyro let him have a moment to compose himself. “That is why I don’t go into town.†They didn’t talk all the way to the park and by the time they got there Ricky’s grip on the wheel was back to normal. They stopped and they walked past the kids on the swings until they got to a river that ran through the earth, a bridge stretching across the park to a parking lot. Ricky’s shoes got muddy when he jumped down onto the riverbank. Pyro followed him and when he sank his fingers into the mud and pulled, blue clay came back with him, and they threw it into a bucket they’d brought down from the truck. Pyro kept digging until Ricky stopped him by putting a muddy hand on his wrist. “We’re good. We don’t want to rob it of everything.†Pyro washed his hands off in the river and patted them dry on his jeans. Ricky laid back in the grass, his legs hanging off the bank. Pyro laid next to them, and they watched the clouds ripple and twist in the blue sky. “You know, my friends keep telling me to move out to New York City.†Pyro turned, and Ricky was looking at him. Pyro sniffed. “They do?†Ricky nodded, his black hair framed by tiny white flowers as he turned his face back toward the sun. “Yeah. And you know what they say to me? They say that it’s better there because everyone is more ‘open minded.’†Ricky laughed but it wasn’t the kind of laugh that would make Pyro laugh too. Ricky would laugh sometimes, when they were working and one of them messed up or a song came on, and Pyro couldn’t help but laugh with him, it sounded so goofy and real. This wasn’t one of those laughs. “They say I wouldn’t have to hide there.†Pyro didn’t know if what Ricky was saying was true. He’d never been to New York City and Pyro didn’t like talking to most people. He didn’t really know what people did or thought. Ricky nudged Pyro’s hand with his and Pyro looked over to meet Ricky’s gaze. “I shouldn’t have to hide.†Pyro nodded. Ricky smiled. “That, and the city is expensive as hell.†Children’s laughter flew over the grass and the warmth of the sun on Pyro’s face made him stretch out over the grass. Ricky kicked the side of Pyro’s leg and offered him his hand to help him up. Pyro took it, and he carried the bucket of clay back to the truck. When they got back to Ricky’s and unloaded everything, they ate sandwiches and chips until they were too full to move. Pyro hoped Ricky didn’t leave. He liked Ricky. He made Pyro’s days interesting and Pyro was just getting the hang of sketching. Ricky saw Pyro staring at him and he ruffled Pyro’s hair roughly, grinning wide. “Quit worrying, I’m not going anywhere. No hick can scare me.†It was weird how much better Pyro felt after that. :::: The phone rang on Saturday night, and when Pyro picked it up it was Jenny. “Um… is this Heavy’s house?†Pyro smiled at the sound of her voice, he imagined that she was biting her lip and smoothing out her dress like she did when she got nervous. “Yes.†A crackle of exhaled breath exploded over the phone. “Oh good it’s you. Listen… do you want to hang out later? In like… fifteen minutes?†As if Pyro would say anything but “yes.†Jenny pulled up to the driveway and leaned out of her window. “Thanks for doing this.†Pyro got in passenger’s side, strapping on his seat belt as Jenny pressed down on the gas hard enough to make Pyro sink back into his seat. “It’s just been one of those days, you know?†Pyro didn’t know… he didn’t know what “those days†were, but he nodded anyway. She didn’t turn on the radio. They drove in silence down a long stretch of road, and the sky above them was like a black sea speckled with stars. They flew past town signs and right when Pyro was going to break the silence and ask where they were going—Jenny pumped the brakes they stopped. Dust flew up as she pulled to the side of the road. Jenny got out of the car and Pyro quickly opened the door, his boots crunching on the gravel. Without the headlights Pyro had to wait for his eyes to adjust to the dark, and luckily he had the moon to help him find Jenny’s form. She leaned against the hood of her car, staring out at the stretch of road like she was peering into the eyes of a monster. Pyro took his place next to her, leaning on her car with her. He stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. “What did you want to be when you grew up?†Jenny’s voice startled Pyro in the dark and he didn’t answer. Jenny laughed a little, leaning against him. “I wanted to be an explorer. But this is the furthest I’ve been out of town.†She laughed she ducked her head down so that her hair fell around her face. “This is where I have to turn around because if I don’t I’ll run out of gas.†Jenny tilted her head back and when she pushed out her breath it fogged out of her lips. “I’m finishing up community college and I’ll be here for the rest of my life.†It was the saddest Pyro had ever seen her, and even in the dark he could see that her eyes were bright and wet. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I wanted to be a unicorn.†Jenny sat up; he could feel it as the car rocked a little. “What?†Pyro opened his eyes and was glad it was dark because his face felt hot. “I… I wanted to be a unicorn when I grew up. They were… they were on these matchbooks and I thought it would be nice to be… that.†He dug around in his pockets until his fingers found it. Jenny pressed closer to him, curious, and Pyro snapped off a match without thinking and he struck it against the matchbook. The flame jumped and its soft color illuminated the faded but still visible unicorn. Jenny’s face in the fire’s small glow was… ethereal. She was pretty and tongue darted out to wet her lips as she stared at the mythical creature. She giggled and looked up at Pyro. “Too bad. I think you would have made a great unicorn.†Pyro smiled, crooked but happy. “What makes you think I’m not?†Her laughter rang out across the long stretch of pavement and Pyro felt pride bubble up in his chest. Suddenly, Jenny’s hot breath blew over his hand and the flame went out. Pyro blinked and Jenny squeezed Pyro’s wrist. “It was going to burn your fingers.†Pyro’s heart stuttered in his chest. He slipped the matchbook into his pocket and stopped leaning on the car. He reached in the dark and his fingers bumped against Jenny’s arm. She got up too, never pulling away from Pyro’s light touch. “May I…†Pyro swallowed, his throat suddenly bone-dry. “May I hug you?†It was too dark, he couldn’t see if Jenny nodded or not. Pyro was about to pull back, but she stepped forward, her shoes bumping against his boots. Her arms brushed against Pyro’s side and she drew close until she was hugging him… but she was too short. She made a soft noise of frustration, and Pyro gently moved her arms away and bent down a little so that his arms could brush against her side. He lifted her up a little, and she let out a soft huff of laughter before wrapping her arms around his neck. She rested her chin on his shoulder and he could feel her smile against his neck. They stayed like that until their breaths were the same, until Jenny stopped worrying if she was too heavy, and until Pyro could memorize how her heartbeat felt against his chest. :::: Ricky had been working on colored pamphlets for his once a year gallery opening. Pyro and Jenny helped spread them out over town. It would be an all day event on a Saturday where the pieces that Pyro and Ricky had been working on would be on sale. It would end with wine and dinner between close friends. Pyro had never been invited to a dinner before and he was very excited. The two weeks before the big event, Ricky left town, saying that he was going to go “kick some old rocks over and see if some old friends were interested in coming.†Jenny hung them pamphlets up in the diner even though Buster didn’t leave her a tip when he saw her doing it. Pyro kept going through his embarrassingly limited wardrobe until Medic had Heavy threaten to break down the door if Pyro didn’t tell them what was wrong. “Ach.†Medic pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Why can’t you wear the same thing you wear every day?†Pyro felt his cheeks get hot and he twisted his hands in his sheets. “Those… it’s a dinner party.†He didn’t say that he didn’t want to look bad, but he was glad that Medic was able to read between the lines. While Heavy was helping landscapers across town, Medic took a day off and helped Pyro find clothes to wear. The woman in the store wouldn’t stop staring at Pyro, but Medic distracted him with questions about color, fabric, and feel until Pyro felt like his head was spinning. It took a lot of tries… but when he finally looked into the mirror wearing black slacks and a button down dark blue shirt, Pyro remembered that his eyes hadn’t been drawn to his scars right away. Medic nodded, the crease between his eyebrows gone when he saw Pyro’s final choice. Pyro bought it, and he laid the clothes out on his bed and wrung his hands. Jenny said she couldn’t wait to see him there the last time he saw her. She said that she had a dress picked out. The night came, and Pyro got dressed. Medic was in a vest and tie, and even Heavy looked graceful in a casual suit. Pyro swallowed and when they piled into the Volkswagon, Pyro remembered thinking that this would be the best night of his life. He couldn’t have been more wrong. TBC
Ohhhhhh dear.
Can't wait for the next part!
Well, here is the last installment. Let me know what you think, any and all thoughts are welcome! Ricky had Christmas lights strung up in the bell-ridden trees and he somehow managed to make his house seem even brighter than usual. Medic and Heavy got out and their mouths hung open just as Pyro’s had when he’d first laid eyes on what Ricky called a house. It was like a dream come to life, and Pyro opened the door to where all the chatter seemed to coagulate. A wave of voices and conversations made Pyro flinch. The main hall had been transformed and Ricky and Pyro’s pieces were displayed on every surface that Ricky had made available. There were all kinds of younger people there, with edgy haircuts and sleek clothing that made Pyro feel underdressed. Medic and Heavy were more comfortable with meeting new people than Pyro was. “Pyro!†Ricky’s voice sailed above the crowd and soon Pyro found himself being hugged. Ricky pulled back and he had another man on his arm. The other man was taller and older than Ricky and his blonde hair was styled in a way that made Pyro think of the city. “You made it. I’ve been telling everyone about you.†He leaned in close to Pyro, whispering in his ear. “I put Jenny’s vase in the kitchen where I keep the glasses. Don’t look surprised, it’s always been for her.†He pulled back and Pyro was smiling because Ricky seemed to know everything. The other man held out his hand. “My better half doesn’t make friends easily.†His hand was ice cold and when Pyro shook it, it was like the man relaxed and smiled wide. “I’m James. It’s a pleasure.†James was talking about the art, and Ricky was holding the other man’s hand. He looked happy, like he was finally able to relax now that James was around. His hyper energy seemed more contained. When James and Ricky started talking to each other, Pyro let himself turn to look and see if… Blonde hair trailed down a fair-skinned back, and it was like Pyro’s eyes were turned into a camera lens, the grainy effects of old film speckling the edges of his vision. She turned, and Jenny’s eyes met his from across the room. All the surrounding conversations, the clinks of cocktail glasses, and the cigarette smoke—it all faded away until it was just the two of them, Pyro and Jenny. They both took a step toward each other at the same time, and she laughed. They moved through the room like two old friends meeting at a train station. Her hand was warm against his cheek. “You look nice.†Pyro didn’t look down to check if she was talking about the clothes he’d just gotten. He couldn’t look away from her, not even if he was burning. “Your… your dress…†It was a light cream color with a lavender belt. Pyro’s words stuck in his mouth, everything he wanted to say, it seemed too coarse and at the same time not enough. Jenny bit her lip, her eyes flickering down. “Um—†Once their eyes broke contact, all the sounds of the party came rushing back and Pyro looked around over his shoulder. Ricky gave him a thumbs up and grinned. He turned back to Jenny, his heart pounding so hard he was sure that everyone could hear it. “Would you like to… go outside?†Jenny nodded and she wove her arm through his. “Lead the way.†Pyro smiled and they hurried through the crowd to the big glass double doors that led to the patio. The difference between Ricky’s patio and the rest of the patios in the world was that it was half the size of the entire house with intricate designs in the cobblestones. That, and with the Christmas lights stretched over them like spider webs it was like Pyro and Jenny had left the party to enter a dreamy world of their own. When Pyro closed the doors, some of the music still leaked through. He turned in time to see Jenny twirl in her dress, letting it flare out and twist around her body only to spin outward again. She was wearing pearly-white heels and she stopped when she saw Pyro staring. The song switched, and they both recognized it as what had been playing on the radio the first time they’d danced. Jenny held out her hand, smiling. “Shall we?†Pyro slid his hand over her waist and tangled his fingers with hers and stepped backwards confidently. Jenny’s eyes widened but she kept up as Pyro guided her over the stones to the romantic sway of the strings. And when he lifted her up, her laughter was smoother than silk against the chilly night air. As they swayed back and forth, Jenny looked up at Pyro, her eyebrows raised. “You’re really good.†Pyro’s cheeks were pink and his fingers squeezed hers gently. “The doctor taught me.†Jenny giggled until her steps lagged behind. Pyro stopped, smiling wide himself. Her eyes were sparkling slits as her cheeks became even rosier. When she let her eyes return to Pyro’s, her face flushed and her smile easy-going, Pyro felt something slowly unwind inside of him. She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Her eyes widened and her fingers froze in Pyro’s hand. Pyro realized that he’d said that last part out loud, and before he could apologize, before he could apologize for speaking so familiarly, her hand was back on his cheek. Pyro’s heart skipped several beats—and she went up on the tips of her toes as Pyro bent down slightly. The feel of her lips against his—it was unlike anything Pyro had ever experienced. It was slightly clumsy at first because only actors hit their marks every time. But Pyro tilted his head a little more to the right and Jenny’s shoulders relaxed and then the world was perfect. Unlike Ricky, Jenny’s lips were soft without any coarse hair around them that made Pyro flinch. Her fingers brushed against Pyro’s cheek, and Pyro swayed a little on his feet. Jenny pulled back for a half a moment, but soon she was kissing him again and again, and Pyro felt her smiling against his lips. He smiled back, and when they finally separated for more than one breath’s worth, Jenny’s cheeks were a deep, rich shade of red. Their fingers were tangled together. Pyro couldn’t stop smiling, not once thinking about what his scars look like or whether or not his hands were sweating. Pyro leaned down and kissed her cheek, then the other one—and soon he found himself kissing her cheeks, her nose, and her forehead until she was laughing but not pulling away from him. Their bubble in time, that corner carved out for themselves—it soon was overtaken, and soon the dark sky grew darker and the music had changed, and there were less people inside than had been there than when Pyro had arrived. Jenny’s lips were red and when her tongue ran over them, Pyro bent down, and this time the kiss lasted longer and sent hot shivers down Pyro’s spine. Her tongue darted out and when she ran it over his lower lip Pyro made a noise, deep and throaty and some would call it a growl. The glass doors opened and Jenny pulled away reluctantly. James’s head was tilted to side and when he smiled it made him look younger and refreshed. “Ah, young love.†Pyro turned, still holding Jenny’s hand. James grinned. “You two seemed to have missed the party.†Ricky came out from behind James, waggling his eyebrows. “Pyro, your old timer friends left because they said that you seemed to have a ride.†Ricky winked. “You know, if you end up going home tonight.†Jenny blushed fiercely, and Pyro was sure he was no better. When they didn’t move, Ricky rolled his eyes. “Scram, lovebirds. Some other couples want to make out and dance to their own music,†he nodded toward James, “If you catch my drift.†James clicked his tongue but held the door open for them. Pyro let Jenny go first, and if he hadn’t been soaring on cloud nine, he would have heard branches breaking, he would have sensed that something was slightly off. He should have felt a chill on the back of his neck and he should have stayed at Ricky’s to make sure everything was all right. But he didn’t. He could only think about his tingling lips. :::: Jenny parked a long the road, way past Ricky’s driveway, because of how many people were going to be there that night. She was wearing Pyro’s jacket because of the cold, and they were still holding hands. They kissed against the car, Pyro’s arms framing her sides as he kept chasing the electric thrills she’d give him— The vase. He’d forgotten Jenny’s vase. Pyro pulled back and when Jenny followed him, a soft noise of confusion falling from her lips, his heart ached. “I forgot something.†Jenny’s eyes opened slowly, and Pyro felt embarrassed. “I made you something, and—and I forgot it.†He slid his fingers over hers. “I’ll only be a few minutes, I’ll be right back, it’s in Ricky’s kitchen—†She laughed. “Go.†She kissed him, laughing against his lips. “Hurry!†Pyro grinned and then turned to run back through the open gates, up the loose gravel, and to Ricky’s round door. The knob twisted under his fingers and when he stepped on Ricky’s wood floor nothing felt different. That was the worst part. Pyro didn’t realize anything was wrong when his foot first hit the floor. He should have. Pyro should have heard the branches crunching and the soft, hot, oily breath panting in the dark. But he didn’t. He was in the kitchen, his hand reaching for the cupboard where Ricky kept his glasses when he heard a creak two rooms over. Pyro froze. He knew better than the call out. And he finally got the chills he should have received when he was on the patio with Jenny. His stomach tightened, and he moved silently to the next room. The lights were still on. The record player’s needle kept hitting the side, a crackle on a constant loop. The glass doors were open and dirt and leaves had been tracked inside. Someone laughed. It wasn’t Ricky or James. Heavy footsteps fell and Pyro swung his fist and knocked the man who’d come out of a room out with one punch. Pyro breathed heavily, and when no one else came, he stepped over the man’s body and peered into the room he’d come out of. Deep, dark purples were Ricky’s favorite colors and it made sense that it would be in his bedroom. The bed was big with a canopy, and pictures of Ricky’s parents and friends lined the walls. Ricky and James were in bed. Ricky and James were dead. Pyro heard the man he’d knocked out groan. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Ricky’s body, on top of James, he’d been shielding the older man, his lover, but it hadn’t mattered. They’d both died, shots to the head. They’d be executed, gunned down like animals. On the wall, written in their own blood, was the word “FAGS.†The man was coughing now, dressed in hunting camouflage. His gun was still at his hip, and Pyro kicked it away. He couldn’t speak, but he crouched over the man and pressed his thumbs against the man’s Adam’s apple. He started choking, and Pyro just waited until the man had the gall to laugh. He chuckled like he’d just read the Sunday comics, and his beady eyes narrowed. “Your Commie faggot friends are next.†Pyro squeezed until the man’s face was purple, until tears ran down his fat cheeks. He kept squeezing until the man stopped bucking underneath him. And even then, Pyro wasn’t satisfied. He stood up and slammed his foot on the man’s neck, breaking it. Just to be sure. :::: Pyro didn’t remember going back to Jenny, he didn’t remember taking the keys from her and driving her car to Medic and Heavy’s house. But he did remember the car rocking, Jenny in the passenger’s seat, and her knuckles white on the seat. “Pyro—what’s going on?†He opened the door, and when he looked at Jenny her eyes widened like she was staring at something terrifying. “Stay here.†She started to say something but Pyro already slammed the door shut and ran inside, grabbing the axe that Medic had by the front door whenever Pyro was in the mood to chop down trees. It felt heavy in Pyro’s hand… but it was a familiar weight. He opened the door and closed it behind him. :::: The war between RED and BLU were a dream compared to the inside of that stone cottage. The image of Ricky and James’s corpses was still burned on Pyro’s eyes. The fear on their faces, Ricky’s face twisted in a scream and James’s eyes squeezed shut. The hunters had crept in and had treated them like animals. Laughter came from the kitchen. This time, there were more of them. There was movement in the living room, and Pyro swung his axe. There was a scream and Pyro took a shotgun out of the dismembered arm’s grasp. The hunter on the floor was a thin man. Pyro had seen him at the diner, smirking with Buster Owen. The laughter stopped and when the person who came around the corner wasn’t Owen, Pyro fired off a shot without blinking. No one was laughing. Pyro would see to it that they’d never laugh again. “Don’t move!†A voice came from around the door. Buster’s voice. Pyro stepped forward, his boots making the floorboards creak. “I said don’t you fucking move!†The man Pyro shot, another hunter, gurgled on the floor as his lungs filled with blood. Buster did come out, but with Medic held in front of him. Heavy… Pyro wasn’t sure where Heavy was. A pistol was pressed to the back of Medic’s head. Every one of Pyro’s heartbeats left a harsh stinging sensation in his chest. Buster’s crooked teeth had strings of spit hanging from them, dribbling down his chin in thick globs. “Listen here—†Pyro didn’t have time to do anything because Medic did it for him. His elbow flew into Buster’s side and he knocked away Buster’s hand, the one that held the gun. Buster grunted and the gun went off right as Pyro threw the axe. Medic fell as the blade sank into Buster’s thigh. He screamed, but it wasn’t loud enough. Not yet. Pyro was sure that in due time, it would be. The pistol had skidded across the floor. Medic swore, squeezing his fingers over his shoulder right as Heavy came barreling through the doorway, his eyes red and puffy. As Medic and Heavy embraced, Pyro stood over the sobbing man on the floor. Buster whimpered as Pyro stepped over him. There were guns on the counter and a can of gasoline. He took the gasoline and went back to Buster. Medic must have seen something in Pyro’s face, because he turned to Heavy and said “Hurry and grab only what we need.†Heavy nodded grimly and left to go back to their bedroom as Medic began to rip apart his shirt to make a more sufficient bandage. Pyro, the entire time, stared into Buster’s eyes. He smelled like piss and tears. His fingers curled around the axe handle and he whipped it out of his leg with a morbid flourish. It pulled another not-loud-enough scream out of Buster’s cracked lips. Pyro dropped the axe to the floor. Heavy came back, two bundles under his arm, and he helped Medic to his feet. Medic froze, looking past Pyro, toward the door. Pyro didn’t notice. He was too busy unscrewing the cap on the gasoline that Buster himself had brought with him. Pyro pinched Buster’s cheeks hard and poured the oily slick down the man’s throat. Buster coughed, sputtered, and still, Pyro kept pouring, pouring, and pouring. Medic said his name, but Pyro wasn’t done. He was going to get the scream that Ricky and James deserved. The scream that Heavy and Medic deserved. He stood and took a step back from the hysterical Buster. He dug in his pocket, for his matchbook with the unicorn on it. He struck the match, and he tossed it down. The fire was hot, and Buster bellowed for him. Pyro relaxed… and he turned around. Jenny was there with a thin spray of blood across her creamy dress. Her eyes were wide as the fire burned behind Pyro, her once rosy cheeks now the color of ash. Medic didn’t give Pyro the chance to register the information. He just grimaced and grabbed Jenny. “Come on! We have to get out of here.†Heavy, Medic, Jenny, and Pyro ran out of the stone cottage as everything quickly burned. Medic’s face was pale as the adrenalin faded and the hot bullet in his shoulder really started to hurt. He slumped against the Volkswagon and Heavy was following the doctor’s directions carefully, only kissing the doctor’s cheek once when Medic’s speech stuttered and broke off in a choked shout when Heavy pressed down on the wound. With the heat on his back, Pyro wasn’t looking at his friends. He was staring at Jenny who was staring at him. Her lips were open and she was frozen for a while—until her lower lip started quivering. Tears rolled down her eyes and her breaths were shorter and shorter. Medic had just finished getting Heavy to tie his ruined shirt over the wound, and the wrinkle between his eyebrows was only partially from the pain. “Jenny, take deep breaths, you have to calm down—†But Jenny didn’t hear him, she kept staring at Pyro, her breaths coming so fast that she reminded Pyro of a trapped rabbit with a dog’s snapping jaws inches away. Her legs shook and she fell to the ground. Pyro darted forward and he caught her—but as soon as he touched her Jenny screamed. It was louder than Buster, and he’d been on fire. It was shrill and she kept hitting Pyro’s face until he let her go, out of shock and not pain. Her white heels scrapped against the ground, dirt smudging across the once pristine material. Her dress, the flowing material, tore into ribbons against the rocks and she only stopped screaming because she ran out of air. Medic squeezed Heavy’s wrist, and Heavy was by Jenny’s side. She didn’t scream or hit him when he helped her up, when he lifted her up like a broken doll in his arms. Pyro worried that she would faint, but she never did. She hiccupped, and could barely breathe, but she never fainted. Even with her makeup running and her eyes red, she was still beautiful. She never took her eyes off Pyro. Not when Heavy walked her down the driveway, not when Medic started up the Volkswagon, and not when Medic stopped his car and began to check her for injuries. Her breathing evened out as Medic’s skilled fingers ran over her skin, checking diligently before he pulled back. “You’re fine, Jenny.†Her eyes still wouldn’t leave Pyro. Medic kept talking. “You can tell the police whatever you want.†The fire was hot. The fire was unforgiving. It was objective and did not know right from wrong; it just kept burning and burning. Pyro wanted to tell her about Ricky and James. He wanted to say that Buster deserved it. He wanted to say that if she’d seen the things he’d seen—she’d understand. She wouldn’t be staring at him the way she was. But he couldn’t speak. Heavy got into the driver’s seat this time and Pyro followed them. He remembered looking out the back window, and that Jenny still stared after him. Her eyes haunted him even when he couldn’t see her anymore. :::: Three years later Winters in Boston were cold. Pyro liked layering up and walking over the snow that stuck to the sidewalks and catching the T down toward the school. He liked listening to the kids squeal and chase each other while throwing snowballs. Sometimes he’d participate in the little fights until the school bell rang and it was time to go back to work. He would keep things clean. It was easy work. Scout said that he’d get a better gig for Pyro, but Pyro really didn’t mind. He liked it, he liked being invisible and dragging his mop across the floors at the elementary school. Some of the older kids would call him The Burned Man. The little kids were nicer; Pyro was surprised to find out. He thought that it was probably because he’d sneak them some root beer candies when he could spare them. It was a Friday, and that meant that Pyro would go to the good farmer’s market after work and grab something for Scout’s mom. She was nice enough to let Pyro live with them, and Pyro tried to be a good guest. Every time he’d come home with the bags she’d always squeeze his arm and kiss his cheek, saying “You didn’t have to do that, sweetie,†but her smile was worth it. Her hair was going a little grey and sometimes her hands would shake when she’d be cooking, but Pyro made sure to help her. Her fingers would hurt in the cold, and Pyro cooked most of the meals whenever the first frost started. Scout was selling cars in a nicer part of town, people liked his smile, and Pyro could see why. Scout came home after dark just as Scout’s mother sat back and put on the radio. Pyro had his apron tied tightly behind him as he watched the spaghetti and stirred the sauce. Scout would laugh and tell them about the best and worst customers of the day. They would eat and it was always warm in the house. Pyro would listen and he’d be happy. Because he had a home. Because he hadn’t touched his lighter for the past two and a half years. When Pyro first turned up on Scout’s doorstep, his eyes red and his lips chapped because he’d been biting them so hard, Scout yanked him into a tight hug and wouldn’t let go until Pyro’s shaking hands hugged him back. Scout said that they could share a room, and Pyro could only nod. That had been three years ago. Snow fell outside of the windows and as it got late and Pyro and Scout sipped their hot chocolate. Scout tossed a postcard to Pyro. “You got another post card from the old geezers!†Pyro caught it between his fingers. It was from the same address as last time, Naples, Italy. The last time Pyro had seen Medic and Heavy had been in the airport. Medic was able smile through the pain and he told Pyro to be careful. He handed him a ticket to Boston before turning away. Heavy waved and followed his doctor until they disappeared around the corner. Pyro had clutched his ticket tightly and even though it hurt, he turned and walked in the other direction. He’d refused to go back to Texas. He didn’t want bring Dell any heartache. And when Pyro had tried to leave Scout… well, Scout did what he did best: He yelled until Pyro agreed to stop being stupid and stay. What Pyro liked the most about Scout was that for as much as he talked, he could tell if you didn’t want to answer questions. Scout never asked why Pyro showed up, why he’d been crying, and why Medic and Heavy wouldn’t take him with them when they went to Italy. Sometimes Pyro would wake up, a sob lodged in his throat because he’d been dreaming of eyes staring at him in the dark. Even then, Scout never asked. Scout had a date on Saturday, so Pyro went to the park. He sat on the bench, where the ducks would be in the spring. He watched kids sled, and he let his head lean back so that the snow could fall on his face. He wandered back home right as the sun began to set. The door was locked, so Scout’s mom was out. He dug in his pocket for a key and opened the door, making sure to kick the snow off his boots before he went inside. He wiggled his toes in his socks and turned on the radio, fiddling with it until it played old music. The kind that two kids could dance to. Pyro’s shoulders slumped and he leaned against the doorway. His nightmares had switched tactics. They weren’t about rainbows and bubbles mixed with blood, not anymore. They’d be about dancing, about kissing and being in love—and then burning it all down to ash. Pyro would wake up screaming, remembering the way Jenny looked at him. Pyro flinched when three knocks came on the door. Pyro sniffed, swallowing down the memories. He was in Boston now; he was the janitor with the root beer candies. He was invisible. He was no one. A ghost. A bad dream. He shuffled back to the door and closed his fingers around the cold knob. He opened it expecting a census taker, maybe a new neighbor, or someone trying to sell them something. Instead, he was facing the back of a woman. Her suitcase was worn around the edges, and they had all sorts of stickers against it of flags from different countries. He saw Germany, France, and then Italy. The woman had been looking across the street, and her blonde hair was down to her lower back. She smelled like coffee. She turned around—and Pyro’s eyes widened and his heart stopped. Jenny smiled, hesitant, cautious, but warm. “Hey, Pyro.†She had a tan, and more lines around her eyes. She held herself straighter, and when she bit her lip, Pyro hugged her. He didn’t have time to worry about it; he just lunged forward and brought her close, not caring that her suitcase fell into the door, not caring that he was letting all the warm air out of the house. Her heartbeat thudded against his chest, her blonde hair tickling his nose, just as soft as he remembered. Jenny’s arms came around to hug Pyro back, and for the first time in three years, his heart didn’t hurt. The End
I have to say that was a fantastic story, I loved every bit of it. It shows the pyro perfectly and the characters are just so great. Could you give me a link to See you next week? I can't find it anywhere. Thank you.
http://tf2chan.net/fanfic/res/1984.html Here is See You Next Week for you, 24!
I loved this.
first time a fic has ever made me cry. Thank you.
so cute
Dear gawd, its been forever since a fic made me cry as hard as this did. kuddos for such a wonderful written story.