South of Purple Cemetary Chapter One: Grassy Hills
Author's Note: I primarily blame @thesocialbookwormishere and @lucifer-in-my-head
Word count: 660ish
Warnings: Character Death, illness, angst, hurt/comfort, ghosts, Spooky Stuff
Platonic Analogical Ghost!Virgil AU
The sound of chirping crickets echoed through the calm air of the summer evening, the sweet scent of honeysuckle curling around the two young boys perched on the grassy hill in the park behind the elder’s home.
“So, what do you want to be when you grow up?” The smaller of the two boys pushed his fringe out of his face, looking over at his friend.
Logan was quiet for a moment, staring up at the stars. He shifted on the grass, crossing his arms behind his head. “I think... maybe a physicist.”
“Heh. Nerd.” Virgil giggled. “You’d be good at something sciencey. You’re really smart.”
Logan looked up at him from his spot, sprawled on the grass. “What about you? You like drawing and stuff. Maybe you could be an artist!”
Virgil paused, looking down at his hands, folded in his lap. “... I just want to not be sick anymore.” He scuffed his feet idly against the footrests of his wheelchair.
Logan nodded, returning his gaze to the sky as he sat up, hugging his knees to his chest. “Yeah. I hope so, too.”
They sat silently together for a while, drinking in the view. The lights of their town surrounded the park, car headlights roaming up and down streets like lost fireflies. The stars twinkled overhead, keeping watch over the two children, comforting and wise, somehow both tiny and enormous at the same time.
“We should learn to fly one day,” Logan said aloud. “Logan Felice and Virgil Moira, ace pilots.”
“That's a pretty crazy idea, Lo.” Virgil replied. His tone was dismissive, but Logan spied the small smile tugging at his lips.
“Imagine it!” Logan pressed on. “You and me. We would be the best duo around! Soaring through the sky, through clouds and stars and seeing everything all tiny below us.”
Virgil laughed again. “That... does sound pretty cool,” He admitted.
“Guys! It's time for dinner!” A man's voice made them both turn, peering towards Logan’s backyard. A man stood on the back porch, waving up at them. He looked small from this far away, a miniature figure trying to catch their attention.
But then, Logan mused to himself, everything looked small from so far away.
“Coming, Uncle Emile!” He yelled back, popping up to his feet and picking up Virgil's hoodie from where it had been discarded on the grass.
“Do you two need a hand getting down the hill?” Emile called, walking off of the porch toward them and leaning on the waist-high back gate.
“We're good!” Virgil shouted back as he unlocked the brakes on his chair. He made to wheel himself back off of the grass and to the path, but the wheels had sunk a little into the soft ground. “... Whoops.”
Emile chuckled, shaking his head, and opened the gate, walking up towards them. “Little bogged in there, V?”
“Uh...” Virgil scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “... Help, please?”
Emile came around behind the chair, tilting Virgil back slightly as he pulled him up onto solid ground again. “There you go! Easy as pie!” He beamed.
“Thanks, Uncle Emile,” Logan said softly, taking hold of the adult's hand as they began back down the hill towards the house.
“Anytime, kiddo. Gotta look after my best nephews!” Emile tousled his hair playfully.
“I'm not your nephew,” Virgil mumbled, a faint blush dusting his pale cheeks as he wheeled himself along the path.
“Yup. You stay at my house more than two days a week, you're family. Them’s the rules, kiddo!” Emile winked.
“I- uh... okay,” Virgil ducked his head, cheeks flaring brighter.
Logan grinned. “Yeah, you're stuck with us.” He poked his tongue out at Virgil. “Forever.”
Emile began swinging his and Logan's joined hands as they walked. “Absolutely. You're an honorary part of the Picani tribe.”
“You're the biggest dorks I've ever met.”
“Or ever will.” Logan added with a laugh.
Virgil rolled his eyes fondly. “Yeah. Yeah, you are.”
FN 240B for America's finest? Wrong! That there is a MAG 58 & gun team firing blanks in rehearsals before a SOPC II patrol at Ft. Bragg in 2005. #sopc #ftbragg #qcourse (at Fort Bragg, North Carolina) https://www.instagram.com/p/Bv2xTZLn6CT7DtLdxdtQTBsJAf93YPgbccbl540/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=g4rsq5l5uxen
Oooh! Okay, so y'all remember that Analogical thing I was totally going to finish by Halloween and then never mentioned again? Here's the start of Chapter Two;
'Logan woke suddenly, his eyes snapping open to stare up at the shadowy ceiling of his room. His heart thundered in his ears, deafening him in the still darkness.'
