"It's crying" Little Tory shouted over the yelling child. His hand enclosed around his aching ears as he anxiously waited for his mother to deal with the unhappy pest.
"She!" Veronica corrected her child. Honey brown eyes rolling as she glanced over from her son to the crying baby. "She's crying" She repeated as she reached into borrowed cradle.
"She's annoying" Tory informed when the yelling continued despite his mother constant shushing and fussing. Finally, she picked her up began rocking motion from side to side. It quieted and Tory sighed in relief. Veronica rolled her eyes once again.
"Don't say that" She lightly scrolled.
"I'm only following your teaching" Tory began in a smart tone. "You say always tell the truth, I'm telling the truth"
"I also teach 'if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all' " Veronica countered, raising a brow as she silently dared her son to continue.
Wordlessly, the seven year old simply turned on his seat and returned his attention to the homework spread out before him on the wooden table. Ignoring both his mother and the child she was looking after.
"Why is it-she crying now?" Tory groan, furiously glaring at the line he'd illy drew because of the sudden wailing of the infant laying behind him.
"I don't know," Veronica answered, rushing to the child's side. Silently, Tory fixed his glaring eyes to the baby his mother now held in her arms. Had it been him that had screamed like that, she would have given him a glare and or something to cry about.
"It could be because she's hungry," Veronica began. "She could be fussy, wet or maybe she just wants a little attention" She finished, laying the baby down on the changing table and doing what must be done.
"She's such a baby" Tory mumbled, watching as, once again, his mother fuss over the child. Veronica laughed at his words. Nodding energetically as she agreed.
"Yes, she is," She says, sending him a smile. Tory didn't return it.
"You know what I mean" He rolled his eyes. "I was never this winey" He then claimed, earning a snort for his mother.
"You were just the same" She informed him. Fastening the clean diaper in place and smiling down at the now happy baby girl. With a sigh, she picked her up and turned to her son. "But I always knew why you were crying," She told him. "Do you know how?" She asked receiving a somewhat curious shake of the head.
"Because i'm your mom." She informed. Tory rolled his eyes and was just about to turn away when she adds; "I know everything, like the D in cross pack history you got last week"
He blanked, not daring to move. They had a rule, he didn't have to be the smartest in his class, but he was not to get anything under a C minus. He began to sweat visibly.
"I'll catch up, I'm doing the extra credit right now" He blurted out. Veronica gave him a smirk, her eyes twinkling with amusement. That could mean a good thing or a bad thing. He never really knew which he was going to get when she smiled like that.
"I know," She says, placing down the baby and turning to approach him. When she was towering over his smaller, seating forme. She leaned down and placed a kiss on her nose. Her teeth on full display as she gave him a grin. "Cause I'm your momma" She declared, kissing him on the forehead and cheeks.
He fussed under her attention.
Soon she was back at work, sweating over a hot iron as she continued pressing clothes for her various clients. A little while later, the baby was crying again, both mother and son groaned.
"It-" Tory began, paused and self corrected himself under his mother's hard gaze. "She's crying again"
........
Melted caramel eyes took in the dark ceiling as he lay motionlessly.
He was being called, no, not called, summoned. Tory lazily rolled off his bed and stumble to the exit. Like a sleepwalker, he travels down the modified hallway to its sole destination.
Summoned wasn't quite the right words for it. Pulled, was better. Drawn in like a moth to flames, a fish on land to a body of water or a starving wolf to a weakened prey.
Soon he was standing at the doorway, overlooking the room he came to refer to as the nursery, his eyes narrowed as they glare at the pod.
It wasn't hungry, it wasn't a baby so there was no need for it to be changed, and there was no way it was expected to be carried by him.
Turning on his feet. Tory went back down the halls only to return a moment later with his mattress, blankets and a few pillows. He made space for himself on the right side of his magnet and lay down as far a possible from it. Through his slumber, he found himself clinging to the cocoon.
"How is he doing?" After what Tory counted as a full week, those were Aldrich first words to him after they had strict the deal.
Tory wasn't surprised by the lord's lack of presence. Vampires, when compared to most creatures, weren't the most parental. Mothers carried their young for a few short weeks within them, then let left them to grow on their own. Every so often the mother or father would return to provide the life force if need be. One I.V can last an average of 3 years, 10 if it was powerful enough.
Compared to his own kind, Aldrich was a helicopter dad.
"Annoying" Tory responded, glaring at the his pod which was presently feeding from his arm. "It's always complaining" He added.
Aldrich raises a brow at this, but before he could say anything on that matter, his eyes caught the mattress and slept in blankets. "You sleep beside him?"
"It won't let me sleep anywhere else," Tory informed, finally able to pull his arms free. For a moment he stared down at his marked wrist, the puncture wounds, and cuts that were in different stages of healing. He'd never had scars before, his healing usually worked wonders. Bullet wounds and hickeys last no more than a few hours. And yet the first cut he made was still staring back at him. Palling against his skin. Wordlessly, he concluded it was a vampire thing and rolled down his sleeves as the Lord asked:
"What do you mean?"
"It cries," Tory said, tilted his head and then decide crying wasn't the justified word for it. "No, not cry. More like fuss?" He tried. But that wasn't accurate either.
"How does my son fuss?" Aldrich questioned seeming honestly intrigued by the information. Tory regarded him in confusion. Did he not hear it? At this very moment, it was happening. A low-frequency sound that taped on his nerves. It wasn't uncomfortable to say, he wasn't confused or irritated as he knew the pod was simply asking for attention. Unhappy that Tory had turned his back to it while speaking to the Lord. It was such a brat!
"It's like," Tory began, trying to explain the sound and vibrations he felt since the first feeding. Maybe even before he'd first gave his blood. "A ringing? Or maybe static? I don't hear a voice or anything but I know it's the pod. I know when it's hungry or just needy" The omicron shrugged. Unsatisfied with the explanation but having no words to improve it.
"Interesting" The lord voiced, slowly walking passe Tory to lay a hand on the pod, Instantly the tapping on the omicron's nerves stopped. Somehow Tory knew Aldrich and the pod were exchanging words. When their conversation was over, Aldrich kept his hand on the pod and with his free one, he searched within his pocket and offered Tory the cylinder container he'd produced.
"I came to deliver this" He claimed as Tory took the bottles of pills. He recognized it immediately. They were his sedative, the ones that suppressed his lust.
"A doctor will be sent to look you and my son over, I'll introduce you the first time. She'll be in charge of monitoring your progress" The Lord explained, Tory hardly heard a single word, his eyes locked with the container.
"Yeah, sure" He absently responded.
"I'll return in a few days" The Lord claimed, pulling away from his son to the exit. The moment Aldrich's hand was off the pod, the taping, ringing static had returned. It was fussy again.
Tory ignored it and instead left the nursery. He reached his provided room and search the drawers, under the bed and nightstand. He threw the cushion off the couches and striped whatever else until he found his first bottle of pills under an armchair. He had no idea when or how it had reached there. But as he held the cylinder in one hand, and it's matching brother in another. He lowers himself to the ground and empties the countenance of both on the floor before him. Trying to find flaws where there were none. Even taking the time to count them one by one.
From the time he had tossed the bottle on the bed that first time, he hadn't taken a single pill. Nor had he slept with anyone, how could he when he was locked between two rooms and a hallway?
But his imprisonment wasn't the problem, but maybe it was the factor behind his inactive libido.
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