Chapter Text
13 years earlier…
Nightfall. The bedding pools around his waist as he slowly shifts to sit up. He holds his breath, straining to hear any sounds of movement. The only sound he hears is a steady thump thump thump . His heartbeat. It won’t be steady for long. After waiting a couple more beats, he soundlessly rises from the warmth of his bed. He almost wants to climb back in since he’s immediately shivering in his nightclothes and his eyes are crusty with sleep. Closing his eyes and frowning, he shakes his head. No , he’s been planning this occasion for a long time. A little cold won’t stop me. And certainly not sleep, he resolves. His father is on a business trip abroad, giving him the golden opportunity.
He tiptoes to his bedroom door and places a light hand on its handle. Taking a large breath, he steadily opens it — just enough to fit his nimble body through — and darts down the hallway towards the main entrance.
Dan is only six years old, but he's been yearning to go on this journey for a while.
A gleeful grin spreads across his face as he sprints down the halls. Finally. Finally I will escape this dungeon. He’s just about to pass the kitchen, when he hears an authoritative, “Ahem.”
Whirling around, he faces his father. His rigid figure towers over Dan. When did his father get home? Words fail to exit Dan’s throat, especially since his heart is erratically beating in it. “I-I was just — ” he fumbles, eyes avoiding his father’s fiery gaze. He’s unable to notice a spark of amusement that lights up in his father’s eyes amidst the fury.
“No need to explain, boy,” his father rumbles. He peers at Dan’s little figure with narrowed eyes and admonishes, “And did you honestly expect me to let you go into the city wearing that? ” He quirks a thick eyebrow.
Stunned, Dan looks down and realizes he’s still in his loose cotton shirt and ratty gray shorts. It never occurred to him to change before leaving. “I — ” Dan starts, fiddling with the hem of his thin shirt, the soft material soothing against his fingertips.
His father tsks and ushers Dan over. Hesitantly, Dan follows like a dog with its tail between its legs. His heart sinks. It was his only opportunity — ruined . How did he manage to mess up this bad? A dejected sigh involuntarily flies out of his mouth. After his father leads him out of the kitchen, Dan starts to brisk-walk towards his bedroom, trying to escape his father’s wrath.
He’s right at the end of the corridor when he hears his father call, “Son!”
Dan freezes mid-walk and turns around, sighing defeatedly as his father strides towards him. He awaits his arrival, face falling glumly. However, instead of getting a lengthy lecture, soft clothing is pushed into his arms. Dan’s eyes widen, “What — ” he stutters.
“These clothes will do,” his father says dismissively. Dan stares, jaw dropping. Then his father pulls a couple more articles of clothing from seemingly nowhere and hands them to Dan, who almost drops the overflowing articles of clothing on the floor. He’s… helping me? Escape? Dan thinks, baffled. His father chuckles at his reaction, “hurry along now—” he pauses to check the clock in the foyer, “—you don’t have much time left, son.”
Dan follows his gaze and notices that it’s already late into the night: one thirteen am. What a lucky hour , he thinks dryly. With that thought in mind, he scurries along the corridor and hurriedly changes into the clothes. He tugs on a black-sleeved shirt, as well as black jeans, throws on a denim jacket, and fastens on a pair of velcro sneakers; he makes quite the fashionable six-year-old. When he exits his room this time, he bounds down to the main entrance instead of tiptoeing quietly through the halls.
“Remember Dan,” his father warns as he unlocks the door. He kneels down to Dan’s eye-level, voice going surprisingly soft, “things are different out there… you must not be naive. Avoid all danger at all costs. When you think something is wrong, run home immediately. Do you understand?”
It’s initially hard for Dan to pay attention to his father’s words as he’s currently a bundle of skittish energy. But after his father places a gentle hand on his restless shoulder, he senses the strangely serious tone in his father’s voice. The pressure on his shoulder is light, but Dan can feel it sink with the weight of his father’s words, and he nods hastily, “Thank you, father,” he says sincerely.
His father gives him a small grin, “Make sure you are back in time… or else — ” he threatens with a shaking index finger, a dangerous gleam in his eye.
Dan shudders, “Of course.”
His father seems to ponder about something else. Dan fidgets with the ends of his jacket, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. He doesn’t notice his father’s hesitation. At last, his father opens the door. Little did Dan know, his father was thinking of a world of magic, mythology, supernatural creatures — the world he would someday be part of.
Dan’s eyes widen as the metal hinges of the door slowly creak open. Finally. Finally. He takes his first step outside of his limited world and his amber eyes glow, reflecting the golden lights of the city lamps. He’s flooded with profound exhilaration as a rush of energy and excitement fizzles in his belly, and he practically skips out the door.
Although it’s very late at night, the city is still buzzing with activity. Dan passes clothing stores, ice cream parlors, and food vendors, but one thing that captures his interest is the sweet, doughy smell of baked goods. He stops in front of a golden-lit bakery and stares, awestruck. A tinkle of soft bells greet him when he yanks open the door. The smell of chocolate and vanilla and sugary sweets envelopes him.
He gasps when he notices the lines and lines of pastries and cakes stacked behind shiny glass panes. But something interrupts his starstruck wonder. There are two boys, making quite a ruckus, probably a few years older than him.
“Shut-up, Peej! You suggested it first, so you ask!” The blond-haired one exclaims.
“No I didn’t, Phil,” the other one — Peej, apparently — denies, “I didn’t even care until you brought it up. Why don’t you ask why we’re here,” he pushes a tan finger in the blue-eyed boy’s chest, ”since you’re so curious.”
“Are you crazy?! Chris will totally kill us if one of us even dares talk to him while he’s eating his precious cake,” Phil argues, rolling his eyes. Both of the boys glance warily at a brown-haired boy, happily eating a — was that a strawberry cheesecake?! Dan almost drools. He needs one. Now.
He ignores the rest of the boys’ bickering and straightens up so his eyes are able reach the top of the counter, “excuse me?” He says to the cashier. Her red hair is curly and freckles decorate her rosy cheeks. However, she seems preoccupied, and maybe she didn't hear him. Dan squints as he reads out the letters of the name tacked onto her uniform. He mouths the words Ros-e?-lin before testing the name on his lips, “Roselyn?”
It seems to catch her attention, and she whips around, brown eyes lighting up. Her face morphs into a look of momentary confusion as she stares directly in front of her, before she catches Dan beneath her. She peers down at him as his hands squeeze the edge of the spotless beige counter. Her hazel eyes widen as a smile plasters on her face, “Hello dear, what can I getcha?”
Strawberry cheesecake or red velvet? Dan glances at the maroon cupcake behind the glass. It has a layer of snowy white icing and is decorated with maroon flakes. He can already feel the saliva pooling in his mouth.
Dan decides on the red velvet cupcake. Roselyn grins, “alright darling, we’ll have it ready soon. Unfortunately the demand for red velvet has been quite high, so you might have to wait a few minutes.”
Dan nods and hands her a small sum of money — his father must've put some money in his jacket pocket, because he finds some change in there, and something warm fills his chest, melting through the gaps between his ribcage. He sits on one of the benches as he waits, legs hanging off the edge. His hands clasp together, before unwinding to grip the edge of his chair. He finds it hard to sit still; his legs swing back and forth restlessly and he doesn't know what to do with his jittery hands.
“Red velvet cupcake with vanilla-cream-cheese glaze!”
Dan’s head perks as he sees Roselyn place the delicacy on the counter. But someone else is there before him. Dan gapes as a pale hand reaches out to grab the single cupcake. It's the blond boy with blue eyes. His mind is screaming, NO! And he doesn't have control in his body in the next moment. His hand fastens on the pale boy’s wrist, halting all movement.
“That’s mine!” Dan blurts. There's a pregnant pause as Phil’s crystal eyes expand. Phil cocks an eyebrow.
“I'm… afraid this is mine, actually,” he finally responds.
“I ordered it.”
“Well,” Phil shrugs, “so did I.”
“Give it back!” Dan tries to grab it, hand brushing against the wrapper. His chest surges as Phil moves his hand higher, out of Dan’s reach. Dan scowls. It's unfair; Phil has a height advantage, he thinks. But that doesn't stop him.
As he pounces on Phil, he looks something akin to a monkey climbing a tree. Phil thinks he hears PJ giggling somewhere nearby. Traitor .
“Give.” Punch. “It.” Punch. “ Back!”
“Bloody hell!” Phil bursts, “This is mine! I ordered it first.”
They struggle for a moment, Phil pulling it farther out of Dan’s reach and Dan grabbing on to Phil’s arm, and — to both of their horror — the cupcake spirals out of Phil’s grip, out of his hand. Time seems to slow down as the innocent sweet makes its way to the linoleum floor with a tragic, wet smack , and Dan can only watch as his jaw hangs open, limbs locking in place.
Dan wants to cry and laugh at the same time, but suddenly he’s exploding, strangling Phil to the floor, endless blows raining from his small fists.
“Look what you did, you little — ” Phil winces, “Ouch, you've got a good punch… for a five-year-old.” Phil drawls from the floor.
“I'm not five!”
“Oh. How old are you, then?”
Dan’s eyes blaze with fury. Why is he so calm about this?! “Why does that matter to you? ” He hits Phil’s arm once more, “and look what I did ?! Look what you did!” He shoves Phil. Something shiny glints in his peripheral vision. A beautiful, teal ring rests on Phil’s finger. Dan can practically hear the evil giggle that resonates in his mind. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small devil rubs its hands together. He has the perfect plan.
Before Phil can retort anything else, Dan scrambles above him and snags his ring, slyly pocketing it, while simultaneously hitting Phil once again for good measure. Phil doesn't seem to notice, wincing again as the harsh blow lands on his chest, and Dan’s heart lifts, pride gleaming in his brown orbs.
Phil continues, after an annoyed huff, “Well I'm turning ten in the next few months. You?”
Dan is stunned silent and shuffles to sit up. Why is he trying to make conversation? He had just pummeled the poor kid to the ground.
Warning bells blare in his mind. He needs to leave before Phil notices his ring is missing. “I'm six, you… cupcake-stealer,” he finishes lamely. Phil barely has time to snort before Dan is darting out of the small cafe, and the last thing he hears before the aggressive chime of the bells is the distant, “red velvet cupcake with vanilla…”
But he doesn't have time to care as he runs down the golden-lit streets, adrenaline pumping through his veins, a wide, crazed grin lighting up his features, heart beating in his throat. He grasps the cold metal of the ring in his sweaty palm.
He never sees Phil again. Not until twelve years later, into his first year of college.