literature

His Brown Eyes Ch.3: Searching - B10k

Deviation Actions

Darianella's avatar
By
Published:
1.3K Views

Literature Text

3. Searching

Crash!

Devlin shot up in bed, panting and covered in sweat. Throwing off the suddenly-too-heavy covers, he slipped out of bed, flinching as yet another bolt of white lightening lit up his room.

Boom!

Thunder shook the base once again, causing the young black-haired boy to jump again. If there was one more thing he hated, it was storms—their anger reminded him too much of his father, their violence his rage, their spontaneity his temper. He shivered. There was no way he would be able to fall back asleep tonight.

Still trembling slightly, he decided to make his way to the bathroom, needing a splash of cool water to drive the sudden images of Kevin from his mind as the house shook yet again. He silently cracked open his door, before padding out into the carpeted hall toward his destination. As he passed his family's various rooms, he smiled softly too himself—they were all sleeping peacefully, blissfully content with their own lives. Never were they plagued by night terrors or the looming threat of evil on their shoulders. Never did they have to live with the weight of another's past mistakes bearing down, crushing. But, no, Devlin thought, he will not crush me—I am not my father. I will not become Kevin.

The storm had stirred up old fears, driving away the happiness of the day before.

As he made his way closer to the bathroom, however, he noticed that not all of the Tennysons were asleep. There was a flickering light illuminating the hallway from the crack at the bottom of one door. Gwendolyn was still awake. Devlin shrugged, not wanting to bother his aunt—what she was doing at this hour was none of his business—and continued onwards.

After an awakening splatter and a cool sip of water, he began to make his way back to his own bed. Now that he was awake, there was no sense in going back to sleep, and his plan was to look over a few of the books Julie had gotten him shortly after he had been adopted into the family. Having grown up in the Null Void and later on the streets, there had been little time for formal learning past what his father had taught him—and with Kevin's own limited education, that had been very little—Devlin had never attended real school. The Tennysons had promised to enroll him in Kenny's class for the start of the next year, but he would have to catch up on what he had missed in all this time. The prospect of the extensive amount of reading and work did not sadden him in the least—he wanted to learn; he wanted to be normal.

       Despite being wrapped up in his own thoughts, as he passed by Gwendolyn's room this time, Devlin thought he heard a small noise. It was impossible to tell over the deafening thunder, so he stopped and pricked his ears, just in case.  Sure enough, it came again, and the black-haired boy realized suddenly that it was emanating from behind his door aunt's door. There was a moment of debate as he warred with himself—part of him wanted to make sure everything was alright, and another half just wanted warm covers and a history book. Eventually, the former won out, and he gently tapped on the door.

       After a moment that seemed to last too long, Gwen appeared, wiping her eyes and gazing, surprised, down at the uncertainly-fidgeting Devlin. "Did I wake you, dear?" she asked softly, her voice strong but thick with emotion. Suddenly, all Devlin wanted to do was hug her, comfort her, protect her from the unknown threat making her cry. Still, he stayed rooted in his spot.

       "No, Aunt Gwendolyn; is everything okay?" he blinked up at her, unsure.

       "Yes, I'm fine, but thank you for checking on me. It was very sweet," she replied, smiling lightly, her eyes still sad. Gwendolyn glanced back at something in her room still hidden from Devlin by the door. "It's late; you should be in bed—"

       Crack!

       Devlin jumped as yet another shock of thunder ripped through the base, before glancing up at his aunt, slightly embarrassed at his reaction. For a reason he could not name, he did not want to show fear it front of her. Gwendolyn, however, had noticed his reaction, and gazed down at him with an expression he could not name. It wasn't pity; no, he had seen that look so many times before. This was different. "You don't like storms, hm?" She asked, seeming to debate something before cracking her door open a bit more—enough to let Devlin see the inside of the room, where he could make out the glow of what could have been an old-fashioned laptop sitting on the bed casting an eerie light on the dark room. "I don't either. Would you like to wait it out with me? We could keep each other company until it passes." She held out her hand and smiled again. Without hesitating, Devlin took it, and Gwendolyn led the dark-haired boy to her bed, closing the door behind her.

       As his aunt pulled up the comforter at the foot of her bed to make a nest for him, Devlin eyed the piece of technology in front of him, all uneasiness from earlier momentarily forgotten. The screen had gone black, and by the time both were settled in to weather out the storm, he was ready to burst with questions and itching to get his hands on it. "Is that really an old computer?" he asked, eyes wide as he looked up at Gwendolyn. "Kenny told me they had all been replaced by holo-pads—I had no idea there were still some around! Does it still work?" The redheaded sorceress felt a pang of longing—if there was one thing Devlin had inherited from his father besides his looks, it was his love of technology.

       "Of course it does," she replied, "Ke—A old friend of mine kept the programming up to date until recently." The hundred-watt grin her response was met with almost made the resurfacing memories worth it. Almost, excepting the fact that his smile was so much—too much—like Kevin's.

       The eager young boy reached for the laptop, but froze midway, uncertain once more. "May I…?"

       "Go ahead, dear. Just be careful what you get into; I've had that computer for a long, long time," The implications of her warning were lost on her nephew as he became immersed in the well-taught old dog. Soon, the raging nightmare outside was forgotten, and Gwen watched, both fascinated and saddened, as the black-haired boy curled up at her side discovered a long-ancient Sumo Slammers game not-so-discreetly uploaded by one of the two men in her life. As the hours passed in relative silence—only the occasional sound effect permeated the darkness—Devlin's head began to droop, even as he fought to stay awake and pass yet another level. When the computer began to slip off his lap, though, Gwendolyn decided to intervene. "Come on, dear—time for bed," she said gently, pausing the game and softly closing the laptop.

       "No… Five more minutes…" Devlin mumbled sleepily, his eyes already slipping closed once more.

       Deciding not to risk moving the little boy for fear of waking him, Gwen simply pulled the covers of her own bed closer and kissed his forehead without thinking. "It will be here in the morning. Rest up, now—I'm sure Kenny has a big day planned for tomorrow." The only response she received was a soft snore.

Linebreak

Aunt Gwendolyn, do you know where—

Shush, Kenny—he's in here. Now let's go downstairs before we wake him.


Devlin, still half asleep and battling with consciousness, heard a door slowly creak close, leaving him in silence. He was already slowly waking, though, and there was no returning to sleep now. After a moment to gather his bearings—apparently, he had spent the night in Gwendolyn's room, and as he stretched he peered around in the semi-dimness of the early morning. During both the night and the day before, he had not really had much of a chance to survey the place his aunt called home for what little time she spent on-world. From what he could gather, the sorceress had spent the last decade or so traveling, taking on every remote Plumber operation offered. To Devlin's young mind, it seemed that she was running from. And yet, it was none of his business to say, so he kept his thoughts to himself and moved his brain to another, more immediate subject.

As he gazed throughout the small but cozy space, he noticed that it was mostly bare, and did not look like it had been lived in and loved in quite some time. There were only a select few personal items scattered about in an almost methodical way—the picture he had noticed the day before, a hairbrush, a small book covered in strange writing, a jewelry box. A bookshelf took up one corner of the room, sparsely filled with tomes both new and old, as well as little knick-knacks that could have been souvenirs from anywhere. From what he could tell, most of the drawers in the spotless dresser were empty, and through the half-opened closet door he could see only a few things hanging. The heavy color scheme and all-around empty feel of the room was nothing that he would ever associate with the vibrant and kind woman he had come to know over the past two days.

As he let his thoughts wander, Devlin realized that he could hear his family bustling about downstairs, trying in vain to keep quiet for his sake. He felt his face grow hot with embarrassment as it occurred to him that Gwen must have told them about his escapade the night before—there would be no end to the teasing he would receive from Kenny. With a sigh, he decided to wait a bit longer before facing the music. For now, everyone thought he was still asleep, and he planned to take full advantage of that has he reached for his aunt's old laptop.

Fifteen minutes into his resumed game, though, the black-haired boy was becoming frustrated with the machine's increasingly slow performance. It seemed that the old dog hadn't been used for such purposes in a very long time, and with most of the recent file-space taken up by newer things, the computer was having trouble coping Sumo Slammer's high graphics demand. Devlin saved and closed his game, an idea forming in his head. It was apparent that whoever had been keeping the computer's processors up to date had long-since stopped, and—despite having little by way of book-smarts—Devlin did have a good head on his shoulders when it came to technology. Maybe it would be a nice gesture to spruce up Gwen's laptop a bit, as a small thank-you for comforting him the night before.

With that goal in mind, he began sieving through various files, trying to find the information he needed to get started before he had to face the day. Though he tried to respect his aunt's privacy—this was her computer, after all—one folder under the Recently Viewed category caught his attention: Kev's Movies. Devlin blinked, refreshing the page to make sure he was seeing correctly. He knew that his father had been close with the Tennyson's, but that didn't mean anything… "Kev" wasn't necessarily a nickname for Kevin. Or so he kept telling himself. Still, despite his best efforts to forget it and move on, Devlin found his insatiable curiosity winning out over any common sense he had left. He clicked the folder, revealing a list of hundreds of old video files dating back over twenty years.

This is a bad idea. This is a very, very bad idea, he thought.

Devlin feared his father—he had been screamed at, beaten, and unloved—but, as he glanced over at the picture resting on his aunt's dresser, he found himself wondering who this other man was. This other Kevin—one who had made a life with the Tennysons long before he had ever been born. Uncertainly, he clicked the first video file on the list, the oldest, vaguely worried at what Gwendolyn would do if she were to catch him. There was no turning back now, though.

Linebreak

The picture was black, but suddenly a low, masculine voice could be heard over a din of background noise. "How do I know it's working?"

"The little green light should be on—that'll tell you the recording has started." A young, female tone replied.

"But the screen's all dark!" the first whined, and there was the sound of some shuffling.

"…The lens-cap is still on, Kevin…" One could practically hear the eye-roll in the girl's reply, and Devlin felt his breath catch ever so slightly at the mention of his father's name. Suddenly, picture filled with color as something—the forgotten cover— was removed from the camera's eye, and the screen titled upward to show a sheepishly confused young man gazing downward into the film. Devlin recognized him from the photograph of his aunt and adoptive father's teenaged years. "And I thought you were supposed to be the tech genius." Kevin turned to someone at his side and stuck out his tongue at his offender, the camera following a second behind his gaze to reveal a much younger Gwen rolling her eyes yet again. "You're so immature."

"But you love me, anyway!" Kevin teased, the view skewing as he leaned into kiss her cheek, showing a sideways glimpse at what appeared to be an RV in a camp ground. The area was covered in various tables and chairs, a large fire roaring in the middle of it all as various people and aliens milling about, laughing and chatting.

"Gross, guys! Come on, seriously?" A third voice piped up as another figure appeared to be walking toward the other two. Devlin recognized him immediately as a green-clad Ben.

"Shut up, Tennyson—It's my party.  I can do whatever I want." Kevin smugly replied, going in for another kiss with the blushing redhead.

"My eyes! They burn!" Ben covered his face as he began to back away, only to trip over a chair and fall rearward, resulting in more laughter from his cousin and her boyfriend. The lens turned upward, once again showing Gwen and Kevin.

"Do you think we should go help him?" Gwen asked, though she did not seem all that worried about the brown-haired teen now sprawled in the mud.

"Nah, he's savior of the universe, remember? He can take care of himself," They chuckled at what seemed to be a shared private joke, and the video timed out as his aunt leaned her head on his father's shoulder.


Linebreak

Devlin sat for a few moments, staring at the blank screen before him. That was not the monster he knew—no, this was a different, better Kevin. Someone loved, someone cherished, someone with a family. Distantly, he noted that the stories he had heard about his Aunt Gwendolyn and father had been true. Glancing at the clock, he saw that only a few minutes had passed—funny, he thought; it seemed like a lifetime. Already in over his head, he picked at time's scab and opened another portal to the not-so-long-forgotten past.

Linebreak

The scene shifted around what appeared to be a free-standing outdoor garage, cracked concrete floor littered with various tools ranging from earthly origin to beyond. It passed over what appeared to be a severely-enhanced vintage muscle car to rest on a small figure curled up in one of the tattered overstuffed chairs set up in a corner. She was clad in baggy lounge clothes, bare feet tucked under her, red hair thrown in a sloppy ponytail, and glasses on as she continued on, obliviously absorbed in the book she was reading. The scene zoomed in as she turned the page, tucking a loose strand of wild hair behind her ear, only to have it fall back down again. Suddenly, the serene silence was broken by the buzzing of a cell phone, causing both the teenagers in the room to jump slightly. As Gwen reached to answer the new text, she glanced up and noticed that she was being filmed. "Kevin!" She said, exasperated, as she began typing a message. "I knew it was a bad idea to give you that camera for your birthday… I look horrible! Stop filming." There was some shuffling, a jerk to the picture, and a less-than-manly yelp as Kevin tripped over something in his messy garage while trying to make his way over to her.

"You look beautiful, Gwen, as always," he assured her, tripping again. "Damn it!" The young Anodite suppressed a giggle, effectively covering with a dramatic sigh.

"You really should clean this place up a little, before you kill yourself," Gwen's phone vibrated again, and her fingers flew over the keys as she replied. From somewhere off-camera, there was a loud crash, followed by a surprised cry. "…or Ben."

Kevin sighed, completely ignoring her second comment. "But that's so boring!" Another buzz from the cell. "Who are you texting, anyway? I'm trying to have a meaningful conversation, here, and you're just chatting it up with one of your friends."

Gwen glanced up and grinned cheekily, "Emily is helping me pick out my graduation dress."

"But I thought
I was going to help you with that…" This whining teenager was completely juxtaposed with the Kevin his son knew.

"You'll just tell me I look perfect in anything—and, while I love that about you, this is pretty much the most important day of my life. It has to be flawless," she replied as yet another smash could be heard. Kevin had stopped moving, leaving the only culprit left to blame as Ben.

"…Guys…? A little help? The smoothies are seeping into my underwear…" Came the weak plea from across the room. The picture scanned out to reveal the all-powerful wielder of the Ultimatrix crumpled out on the floor where he had, apparently, landed, covered from head to toe in a sticky, pink substance. A white Mr. Smoothy paper cup perched upside down in his brown hair, slowly sliding off amid the carnage. The camera began to shake as Kevin collapsed into laughter, before shutting down and ending the scene.


Linebreak

Once again, Devlin paused, blinking. It was as though the boy he heard on camera was not his father—the violent, vengeful memories he had did not match these happy, peaceful ones belonging to someone else. And that's what they were, he realized: Gwendolyn's memories. Guiltily, he glanced at the clock. Not much time had passed, but he knew he should not be intruding like he was. He had crossed the line to somewhere forbidden—but by whom, he did not know. Despite the incessant need to stop before he stumbled upon something he would regret, Devlin quickly scrolled down the list and opened one of the later files, swearing to himself that this was the last one.

</u>Linebreak</u>

The room was an eerie white—not cream, not ivory, not even linen; white. White from the walls to the floors to the sterile-looking sheets stretched too-tight over the railing-clad bed. Even the pale skin of the exhausted woman lying in said aforementioned bed seemed to match the overall color-scheme. The only stagger of color at all seemed to be the woman's flaming hair—the only giveaway telling Devlin who this was. She seemed ill—sweat lined her brow and purple rings sat, heavy, under her drooping eyes. Older. And yet, she was smiling—glowing, even. "We did it, Kevin," she breathed, beaming up at the man filming. Devlin began to understand what was happening as someone off-screen handed a small, blue-wrapped bundle to the woman lying prone in the hospital bed. Horrified and scared for so many reasons he couldn't place, the black-haired young boy could not bring himself to stop the movie—to end it there, leave the rest a mystery, and move on, back to the real world. He wanted to—oh, so desperately he wanted to—but some twisted fascination kept his eyes glued to the screen. "He's perfect."

"Yeah…" a low voice replied quietly, "Yeah, he is."

"Give Ben the camera, and come hold your son," for some reason, everyone was whispering, and even Devlin caught himself holding his breath. There was a shuffle, and soon a tall, dark-haired man appeared at the redhead's side, never once taking his eyes off the little bunch in her arms. This Kevin, though, was different than the younger man he had seen in the other locked-up memories—like Gwen, he had aged, but as he gazed at the woman and his son, there was a trace of sadness melded with the love and happiness. It was a look Devlin had only seen once before, so long ago, on a face he couldn't place…

A little awkwardly, he sat down on the hospital bed's edge, and waited for a moment, unsure of what to do. "Are you sure I won't break him? He's so small…" He sounded uncertain.

"Everything will be fine, Kevin. With us as parents, he'll be able to survive anything—I think he can handle this," she smiled up at him, shifting ever so slightly, holding out the cocooned baby for him to take. As she did, the tangle of blue unraveled enough for a tiny, pale hand and a shock of midnight hair. Even as he took his son, Kevin remained unsure. "You're going to be a great father, I just know it."

"There's no way to know that—I'm probably going to screw this kid up worse than Ben was  before he even makes it to ten," the weak attempt at humor was met only with a strained smile.

"He will be perfect—he is perfect. Stop worrying," Gwen assured him, resting her exhausted head on his shoulders. The all-too-wrong scene froze as a moment in time, forever seared in the young boy's mind: two strangers, their eyes full of love and adoration, framing the newest part of their hearts. "Welcome to the family, Devlin," the redhead cooed, reaching out a finger as the baby yawned and opened his lids for the first time. "Kevin, he has your eyes…"
Okay, so this is the beginning of this story's "second part". I use that term very loosely, mostly due the fact that I only consider there to be a break because this was written over ten months after the second chapter. Even so, this was a while back, so I apologize for some of the FAIL!writing that's in here. :meow:

Thanks so much to everyone who is reading this little bit here on dA! Much love to you all. :heart:

:batman:Darian
© 2012 - 2024 Darianella
Comments2
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
LJ6204's avatar
cant wait to read pt 4