Darkling Wade and Callie v1
This is ENTIRELY the fault of @stillafanofsonic and @doomfox . I had so much fun going back and forth yesterday regarding Darkling Wade and Callie, I spent all day on this.
Thanks a lot, you two.
This is based on @stillafanofsonic universe. I may write one from my Qwertyverse. We’ll see.
~~~~~
Wade stood before his nearly empty fridge, eyebrow ridge drawn low. The only things inside were some mustard, an almost empty jar of pickles, a few hot dogs, a jar of sweet and sour sauce, and some milk that was on the verge of turning solid. He pulled the last out, gave it a whiff, and nearly gagged. Into the trash the whole container went.
Heaving a sigh, he lowered himself to one of his kitchen chairs. It’d been a month since he’d been changed into this . . . thing. Scales instead of skin. Gold-on-black eyes instead of blue. Red stripes across his browline and down his head spikes instead of brown hair. Three-fingered, clawed hands. Two clawed toes. A long, barbed tail.
Life before this had been nice. He had his two boys, a job he loved, some good friends, and he knew what to expect, day-to-day. All felt right with the world.
Then the car accident. He could sometimes still feel that branch impaled through his chest. Taste the blood. And the darkness that had started dragging him down . . .
And then Eclipse had ‘saved’ him. Teleported him away to turn him into . . . this. A larger version of what the boy was. Black Arms. A dark.
Claws that used to be fingers clattered against the tabletop, digging into the wooden grain, and his tail flicked angrily behind him. For the millionth time since he’d awoken in this body, Wade cursed the boy for turning him into this. For making him a monster. A freak.
Maybe it would have been better if he’d died after all.
Wade uttered a soft hiss at this thought. No. His last thoughts before he was sure Death was coming for him were of his boys. Shadow and Silver. How much he loved them. How much he wished to be with them, and not leave them without a father. How he’d begged for a second chance.
And Eclipse had given him that chance, in the only way that seemed possible at the time. No human convention would have been able to save him. The little darkling had done the impossible, and pulled him from the brink of certain death.
Wade the Dark brought his three-fingered hands up, and clenched them into fists.
He was so grateful to be with his boys. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t hate what he was now.
“Dad?” a timid voice called from the hall next to the kitchen.
Wade flicked his golden eyes that way, and found a gray hedgehog peeking around the corner. “Yeah, Silver?”
The boy ducked slightly, clearly uncomfortable with his father’s new form. “I’m hungry.”
“I know, bud. I’ll see what we’ve got. Okay?”
“’Kay.”
Then the little hedgehog was gone, hurrying back to his room. The boy spent a lot of time in his room these days. Wade had an idea Silver was scared of him now. He honestly didn’t blame the boy—he himself didn’t like to look into mirrors if he could help it. Not only because it reminded him of what he was, but because he did look pretty frightening. Like what many people would call a demon.
As if summoned by thought, Eclipse came into the kitchen. He walked tall, just as neat as you please, as though he belonged there.
“Can we eat?” the boy asked, pulling the fridge open. He wrinkled his nose at the bare shelves. “Where’s all the food?”
“It’s hard to shop when people think you’re a monster,” Wade said, trying very hard to keep his tone neutral. He had begrudgingly taken the boy in because he had nowhere else to go. But that didn’t mean Wade was 100% on board with the kid acting so comfortable. “And we’re running low on money. I can’t work anymore, either.”
“Oh.” The darkling closed the door and turned to him. “I could teleport to a store and grab some food. No one would know--”
“No.” Wade couldn’t keep the growl out of his voice, and his lip curled seemingly on its own. “You will not steal food. Stealing is bad. Do you understand me?”
Eclipse cowered away, his tail tucking between his legs. “Yes sir.”
The sight of this young boy cowering in fear snapped Wade’s anger in half. He released a long breath before speaking. “I . . . I’ll figure something out. Why don’t you go play with Shadow? Go on.”
The darkling gave a quick nod before hurrying out of the room. Guilt joined anger at the table in Wade’s mind.
Stop taking it out on him, he told himself. He was just trying to help. He saved your life. He’s just a kid. Stop being such a jerk.
No matter how many times he told himself that, he just couldn’t move past the fact that he was monster because of that little boy.
With a grunt, Wade shook his head. Stop thinking about that. It’s not productive. Food. You’ve got two . . . three boys who need fed, and when’s the last time you ate anything more than crackers and some beef jerky? Check your bank, maybe you have more left in savings than you thought--
His thoughts were suddenly cut off when the doorbell rang. He glanced at the clock. Ten past four. He groaned, lip curling into an annoyed snarl.
Callie MacPherson. The town librarian who’d apparently taken it upon herself to be Miss Good Samaritan and reach out to the resident freak. She’d come here almost daily, starting about a week after the accident. They’d spoken here and there before he became . . . this, but nothing too memorable. Why was she going so out of her way to interact now?
To tell the truth, it kind of ticked Wade off. He hated being pitied, and this just reeked of forced sympathy.
“I’ll get it!” Silver yelled as he sprinted past the kitchen on his way to the front door. A click and creak, and Wade could see the light spilling in from outside. “Hi Callie!”
Annoyance poked at the former human. The boy, his son, was more excited to see some relative stranger now than he was his own father. A growl rumbled in his throat.
“Hiya kiddo!” a voice called back, and the snarl on Wade’s muzzle rose higher. “Hey Shads, how’s it going?” A soft response. “All right! That was a really tough level. Good job!”
“I got through the first level of Mario!” Eclipse cried, and Wade could tell the boy was bouncing on the couch. “It was so hard, but I finally did it!”
“Mario’s not hard,” Silver said.
“Is so!”
“Is not!”
“I thought Mario was a little hard,” Callie said, interrupting them before they got too caught up in their back and forth. “But I’m not as good at video games as you guys. Eclipse, I’m sure you’ll be so much better than me!”
“I sure will!”
“Hey, park your keister, meister.” The bouncing stopped, and Eclipse uttered a confused grunt before Callie snickered. “It means sit your butt down. The couch isn’t a trampoline. Park it.”
“Oh.”
One last whump told Wade the boy had indeed parked it. Another growl escaped him. These kids listened to her more than him anymore.
“Your dad home, Silver?” An awkward silence settled then, and the gray hedgehog mumbled something Wade couldn’t make out. “Okay. Why don’t you play with your brothers while I take this in, huh?”
Wade huffed through his nostril slits. He suddenly didn’t want her here. He’d told her, time and time again, that she didn’t need to come. Didn’t need to bring food or other handouts. He was perfectly capable of caring for his boys himself. He didn’t need her pity.
And besides, he was a monster. Practically every day he discovered some new instinct that overrode what was left of his human brain. Who’s to say he wouldn’t snap one day and hurt her? No matter how annoyed her presence made him, he didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want to hurt anyone.
Footsteps then, and soon Callie rounded the corner into the kitchen. Her long red braid swung slowly across her back as she dropped two bags of groceries onto the counter.
“Hi, Wade!” she greeted, a kind smile spreading her lips. “The store was having such a good sale on some stuff, I just had to grab a few extra. Thought you might like them.”
She began pulling things out of the bags—chicken, hamburger, bread, cereal—as the growl in his throat grew louder. After a few seconds, she stopped, turning to him slowly.
“Wade,” she called, her voice soft and calm. Like one would speak to an aggressive animal. “Take a breath.”
“Get out,” he growled, his hands curled into fists. If she couldn’t take a nice hint, maybe he had to show her just how dangerous he was. “I don’t need your pity.”
She blinked, her expression one of honest shock. “Pity?”
“Why are you doing this?” he demanded, teeth bared and tail swishing angrily behind him. It swiveled and flicked like a ticked off snake. “We weren’t friends. No one else comes every day like you. No one else wants to be around the monster. Why do you care? Why do you keep coming?”
Callie stood and stared at him for a long moment, face blank and unreadable. Then her brow furrowed, and mouth pulled into an annoyed pucker.
“Hey guys!” she called, her voice light and excited—totally opposite from what her face displayed. “Your dad says I can take you all to get McDonald’s! Whaddaya think about that?” Three cheers erupted from the living room. “Go get your shoes and pile in my car, ‘kay? I’ll be out in a minute. Gotta talk to your dad about something real quick.”
A clamoring of noise from the living room as the three boys did as they were told. The two people in the kitchen stood where they were, and continued to glare at each other.
Once the front door closed and the kids were safely in her Subaru, Callie stepped toward Wade.
“You’re an idiot,” she said, jamming a finger into his chest plate. “A big, dumb, woe-is-me-my-life-is-trash moron, you know that?”
Wade stood stunned for a few seconds, before slapping her hand away. “What are you talking about? Don’t you see what I am now??”
“I’m not blind, Wade, anyone with eyes can see what you are now. What you don’t seem to see is that it doesn’t matter what you look like. You’re still you inside.”
He blew a huff through his nose. “That doesn’t matter if I look like a monster on the outside. No one wants to be around me now. Not even my own kids.”
Callie uttered a frustrated grunt, giving her braid a yank. “Oh my lord, you are so blind.”
“What are you--”
“Okay, look,” she said, tossing her braid behind her. “I don’t have time for the nicey-nice crap right now. I’m taking your boys to McDonald’s, and then to my house for some ice cream. You wanna know why I come here? Why I keep coming here, day-after-day, even though it’s very clear you don’t want me to?” He nodded. “Because of them. Those boys need you, and you’re so caught up in your little pity party you don’t even see it. You’re not here. They’re feeling neglected and like you don’t care about them anymore.”
Wade’s jaw dropped. “That’s not true! I love those boys with all my heart, and only want to take care of them! I just . . . I’m having a hard time dealing with,” he gestured to himself, “this whole situation.”
“Well, suck it up, Buttercup,” she said, jamming another finger into his chest. “’Cause it’s been a month, you’re not likely to change back, and sitting around wallowing in self-loathing isn’t going to make things better. I should know. All you’re doing is chasing away people who care about you. You’ll end up alone, with nothing to keep you company but these nasty thoughts.”
Her words hit harder than Wade expected, and he dropped his eyes, brow furrowed. The sharp finger disappeared from his chest, and was replaced with an open hand.
“Wade, I know you’re struggling with this,” she said, her voice much softer now. Kinder. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be, dealing with an entirely new body, and who knows what else that came along with it. But you’re still you in here.” She patted his chest. “Your soul is the same. That’s the Wade your boys need. That’s the Wade you’re suffocating by focusing so much attention on how much you hate this new form. Please, I’m begging you, don’t lose sight of who you are. Don’t turn away those who care about you, and want to help. Isolation is a lonely place, and it hurts more than you realize.”
Silence fell over the kitchen, and Wade swallowed hard. The pressure of her hand on his chest was strange—he hadn’t been touched all that much since becoming a dark. It was warm. Comforting.
Human.
A car horn sounded then, and a shout behind it.
“Callie!” Eclipse yelled, followed by another horn blast. “C’mon!! I’m hungry!”
The librarian smiled, withdrawing her hand. “I’d better go before Eclipse tries to hotwire the car or something.”
Wade nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”
“I’ll have the boys back by seven,” she said, heading for the front door. She paused, turning to give him one last look. “I’ll stop coming if you really want me to. Have the boys come to the library or my place if they get too hungry. Just . . . think about what I said, okay?”
He nodded, and she returned it, before disappearing from sight.
A car engine flared to life, and Wade listened as it pulled away, fading into the distance. He stood still in his kitchen, brow furrowed, replaying her words through his mind.
~X~X~X~
Callie dished out the last bowl of ice cream and slid it to Shadow, who gave her a little smile as he dug into it with a spoon. All three boys were seated at her table, enjoying their treat and chatting happily.
As she rinsed the scooper, her mind wandered to Wade, and their ‘discussion’ in his kitchen. Had she been too harsh? In truth, she barely really knew the man, and he was going through quite a hard time now that he had turned into something, literally, completely alien. She supposed she would have had a really hard time accepting her new reality had the roles been reversed.
Maybe she had been too hard on him. His entire life had been up-ended in an extremely short period of time. He’d lost his humanity (well, at least the physical part, anyway), his job, his friends, and the close relationship with his kids. Shadow wasn’t as put-off by Wade’s new form (there was some hesitation and uncertainty in the beginning—the kid played his cards close to the chest), but Silver was really struggling with it. He said his dad didn’t want to play with him at the park, or even hug him anymore. Poor kid was really suffering.
And then there was Eclipse. The kid who just kinda fell into Wade’s life. She knew he held the boy accountable for his current form, and while she couldn’t really blame him, judging by what Eclipse had said about the whole situation, it didn’t seem like some premeditated act of aggression. He sincerely wanted to save Wade to make Shadow (and to a lesser extent, Silver) happy. He thought he was doing a good thing. Wade’s continued anger and disgust with his new form confused the boy.
“I turned him into a Black Arms,” the little darkling had told her once. “It’s so much better than being a human. No offense. He can see better in the dark! Smell things further away! He’s stronger and can teleport! Why’s he so sad about not being human anymore?”
The boy just didn’t understand.
Now she watched the boys smile and laugh and joke with each other—even Shadow!--and felt a pang of sadness in her chest. If Wade didn’t pull himself out of his hole of misery, he’d lose any relationship he had with these kids.
Her phone rang, breaking her from the thoughts currently rolling around in her head. A quick glance and her eyebrows raised. Speak of the devil.
She flinched. Poor choice of words.
A flick of her thumb, and she put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Hey.” Wade’s voice was soft. Shaky.
“Hey. Want your kids back?”
He uttered a soft laugh. “Eventually. Kinda nice having some quiet.”
“I’ll bet.” He went quiet, and she moved out to the deck to shut out the noise of the three rambunctious boys at her table. “So . . . is there something you wanna talk about?”
More silence for a long moment. “I’m sorry.”
“S’okay.”
“No, it’s . . .” A rough sound then, and Callie thought he may have run a hand down his face. “It’s not okay. You were right. I . . . I’ve been so focused on myself that I . . . kinda forgot what was important.”
“Wade, you’ve been through something . . . really traumatic,” she said, slowly walking back and forth on the deck. “It’s understandable to have trouble processing it. I’m sorry if anything I said earlier made you feel worse. That wasn’t my intention, at all. I just--”
“No,” he said, a little laugh in his voice. “I think I needed someone to knock some sense into my big, dumb head.”
“I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries or anything. I mean, you’re right, we weren’t friends before this.”
Silence again, and when Wade spoke next, his voice was soft, almost shy. “Maybe we can be friends now? I could sure use one.”
A smile spread across Callie’s face. “Okay. I think I’d like that.”
“Okay. Good.”
“You’ll get through this, Wade,” she said, glancing in at the boys. “I’ll help you however I can.”
A moment passed, before a soft sniffle passed through the line. “Thanks, Callie. I think I need more help than I wanted to admit.”
“We all do, Wade,” she sighed, heading inside to nab Eclipse from helping himself to more ice cream. “We all do.”
~X~X~X~
An hour later, and Callie’s Subaru pulled in front of Wade’s house. Three boys piled out, storming into the house like an extra noisy hurricane. They rushed to their room, slamming the door closed behind them, eager to play with their Happy Meal toys, and sort through the packs of Pokemon cards Callie had bought them.
The librarian, meanwhile, lagged behind, pulling the large extra pepperoni pizza from the passenger seat. She walked into the kitchen, and found the groceries all put away. Wade sat quietly at the table, hands curled around a mug of tea.
“Hey,” she called softly, sliding the box on the table. “Brought you a peace offering.”
He chuckled, his muzzle wrinkling. “I think I owe you the peace offering. I kinda went all ‘grr rawr’ on you earlier.”
Callie waved a hand. “Pfft, forget about it. I was sure you wouldn’t really hurt me.”
Wade raised a brow ridge. “You were?”
A small smile curled one side of her mouth. “Well . . . pretty sure.”
He returned her smile, and dropped his eyes to the mug. “Thanks for what you did. Not just the groceries, but . . . giving the kids a nice evening.”
She sat opposite from him, and leaned her crossed arms on the table. “They really miss you. I’m just a distraction, and I’m glad to let them have fun, but ultimately, they need you. I know you’re still dealing with,” she gestured to him, “this whole situation, but as a parent, you sometimes have to just push your own baggage to the back and give everything you can to your kids.”
He sighed, pushing his mug to the side and rubbing his eyes with his clawed fingers. “I know. I just . . . after what happened, I just feel so alone. Like, I can’t be who I was because I’m not him anymore.”
“But you are him. You are still Wade Whipple, former deputy of Green Hills, current record holder for most marshmallows stuffed in his mouth at one time, and father of three really great boys.” She shrugged. “Same product, different packaging. That’s all.”
Wade snorted out a laugh. “Pretty funny way to break it down.”
Callie stood up, adopting a pushy salesman voice and stance. “Step right up, ladies and gents, and get a gander at the new and improved Wade Whipple! Why, he can see in the dark! Lift a whole car without breaking a sweat! Now you see him, now you don’t, as he teleports from place-to-place! And watch out for that tail, folks, it’s sharp as a tack and cracks like a whip! Only one left in stock, folks, better hurry! Act now for this one-of-a-kind wonder!”
The dark at the table barked out a big belly laugh, and bent forward holding his stomach. “Stop! Oh my god, stop! My sides!”
The librarian sat back down, a smile on her lips. “When’s the last time you laughed like that?”
Wade wiped his eyes, his laughter settling to the occasional giggle. “Been a while.”
“How did it feel?”
He let out a long sigh. “Good.”
“Feeling a little better?”
A nod. “Yeah.” He paused, a little smile on his muzzle. “Thanks.”
She shrugged. “What are friends for?”
The two shared a quiet moment, before a cheer erupted from the boys’ bedroom. Callie chuckled.
“Sounds like they got one of the Pokemon cards they were really hoping for,” she said, pushing herself to stand. “I’m gonna head out.” She thought for a second before opening the pizza box and snatching a slice. “I’m gonna steal a bite, then head out. The boys are adequately full of sugar and excitement from their evening out, so good luck!”
Wade laughed as he stood to walk her out. “Yeah, thanks.”
They stopped at the front door, and Callie took a bite out of her pizza slice. “Call me if you need anything,” she said, her words muffled around the food in her mouth. “I mean, anything. Your days of sitting around here and moping are over, my friend. I’ll swing by tomorrow and we’ll work on getting you more comfortable on going out.”
He pulled a face. “Oh, I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
She swallowed and gave him a sly smile. “Wade, you’re going to leave the house if I have to drag you out by your tail.” She leaned slightly to the side and shouted down the hall. “Bye guys!”
“Bye Callie!” came the chorus back.
“Later, Gator,” she said, dropping him a wink. “Get ready for Wade Whipple 2.0!”
“Is it too late to back out?” he joked.
She uttered a snarky laugh as she headed for her car. “Too late! You’ll never get rid of me now!”
He laughed as she threw him a wave and slid behind the wheel. A moment later and she pulled away, giving a little honk as she disappeared.
~X~X~X~
Wade walked back into the kitchen, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. He dug into the pizza, and this time, when his three-fingered hands came into view, he didn’t pull an unconscious grimace.
Same product, different packaging.
He was still him. Sure, there were new instincts buried in his brain, and a new appendage to control, and there was a learning curve to using three fingers instead of five. But he was still him. He just needed to remember that.
His sharp teeth made short work of the pizza, and his empty belly accepted it gratefully. Once he’d eaten his fill, he stored the rest in the fridge—now nicely stocked thanks to Callie’s generosity—and washed up.
He’d been wrong about her. That kindness wasn’t some form of pity, it was genuine. She’d been concerned for his boys, and came to make sure they were okay. Gratitude welled up inside him, and he gave silent thanks she continued to come, even after his protests.
And now, she was going to come and make sure he was okay. None of his other so-called friends bothered. Even Tom stopped asking after him weeks ago. He supposed he’d pushed them all away with his dark mood. All but Callie.
It felt really nice to have a friend again.
The boys were still chatting excitedly in the bedroom, and Wade headed back that way. He’d let a rift open between him and the boys he loved. He was going to make sure it didn’t get any wider, and would work hard to close it as quickly as possible.
~~~
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