Chapter Text
Winters in New York were no joke, they were always harsh. The strong cold winds would make your fingers freeze, your nose turn red as Rudolf’s, and as you walked you wouldn’t even be able to feel your feet. Of course, for those who live in New York, this was nothing new. Nothing a wool coat, scarf, gloves and hat couldn’t fix.
Today was especially bad, it’s been snowing non-stop day and night, and a lot of people stayed indoors.
A bus slowly reached one of its stops, barely able to open its door to let the passengers out.
“Ah, I missed the cold…” Says a young man to himself as he stepped out of the bus, the only passenger on it.
One luggage bag in his hand, holding it tightly so the wind didn’t yank it around as he slowly walked. His home was a couple of blocks away, nothing he couldn’t manage. The cold helped him feel alive, that chilly air going into his lungs truly woke him up. Snow-covered streets didn’t bother him, even though some of the snow got into his shoes. He was excited thinking about some mulled wine, fireplace and the nice comfy couch that he had at home. As those thoughts went across his mind, he sped up his steps.
There in the distance he saw his home, his family house. It was a very good neighbourhood. His father is the one who worked hard for it, he is a very well known lawyer. The young man didn’t really care that his family was wealthy, to him money didn’t have much meaning. Hard work is what will get him what he truly wants, fulfilling his biggest wishes.
From the outside you could see the cozy lights coming from the fireplace. The living room was the only lit place in the house at this hour, usually when the family would gather to talk. Talk about how their day was, the plans they had for the rest of the night and of course to say goodnight to each other.
The young man smiled, he remembers all of the times he would come home and his mother would be waiting there with a home made dinner. She was truly an excellent cook, making all sorts of dishes.
They were maybe rich, but his mother didn’t let that define her and her personality. Talking to all of her neighbours, people she would meet in the store, on the streets… no matter their status, or skin color. She was an amazing cook, inviting people over to their home. Vincent’s favourite part was whenever the main course was finished, and it was time for dessert. His mother wasn’t just a good cook, but also a good baker. Thanks to her kindness, Vincent was also able to experience many different dishes from all around the world; his mother’s friends shared their recipes with her every time they came over.
Thanks to that kindness, Vincent learned about other cultures, traditions, dishes, languages, and he even heard many thrilling folklore tales.
There was a lot of racial hatred during these times. Those who had money loved putting themselves above all others, especially many white people, but those who weren't white did as well. Even those who were poor, it didn’t matter, they would find a way to grow that hatred deep inside them. Blaming the country's misfortunes on those who were “less superior” to them. Propaganda was also a big part of it, easy ways to nurture that hatred, help it to grow among the masses. The slavery ban didn’t change much, there was still a long way to go…
The young man slowly shook the snow from his shoes before he entered. Slowly opening the door.
“I’m home…”
He said quietly, he knows the house rules. No yelling.
His shoes were completely soaked, his socks wet.
“Well… this isn’t really great. I don’t wanna catch a cold”
The young man hung his coat on the coat rack, putting his hat slowly down, and making sure to put his shoes on top of a towel. The last thing he needs is to make the floor wet, God forbid somebody slips.
“Vincent? You came home?”
By the staircase stood a tall man, probably around 189cm tall. Light brown hair, and shiny, sky blue eyes.
“Victor? I didn’t know you were going to be home…”
Victor, that was the Vincent’s older brother.
Vincent truly didn’t expect his brother to be home, he wanted to smile and hug him, but he also wanted to just turn around and go back outside. His chest felt tight, as if air couldn’t reach his lungs. Vision getting a little bit blurry.
He was angry.
“Father and I are working on a case together, so I am here to assist him.”
Vincent could feel the heat rise up all the way to his face, the anger slowly consuming him. The last thing he wanted was for his brother to be home.
Actually…
He wished he was home alone. His father was also not somebody he liked being around. All he ever heard was how good Victor is, how successful he is, how hard working he is, how he is the bestest son.
Makes him feel SICK.
“Where is father anyways?”
Vincent asked, trying to breathe slowly, to calm himself.
“In his study, he didn't want to be disturbed, but I did light the fireplace. We can go sit in the living room and talk. I do want to hear all about your service.”
Of course he does, VIncent thought to himself.
Even though his body was trying to make him turn around and simply walk out, he put on a forced smile and slowly walked into the living room, sitting down on the couch.
The living room was cozy, in the middle, center piece was the fireplace. Beautiful design so that whenever it was lit, you could admire it. In the corner of the room was a grand piano, sadly not being used. Vincent did know how to play piano, but as he grew older, he started to hate it. Just looking at it made his skin crawl.
Almost every wall in the living room had some sort of a painting, mostly from artists his parents knew. Local artists, but very well known.
On the opposite corner was the radio, something not everybody had in their home. Handcrafted out of wood, with the family crest in the middle. When he was little, Vincent loved to sit close to it and listen to the broadcasts, especially while his mother was sewing something. She would pet his hair slowly, smiling at him. A smile that could cure any worry in Vincent’s head.
Vincent came back to the present moment as he heard tea being served.
“So, how was the service? Are you officially a soldier?”
Victor puts one sugar cube for himself and no sugar for Vincent, handing him the cup and slowly sitting down.
Vincent almost rolled his eyes the second his brother started to talk.
“Well, I became a soldier the moment I got drafted…”
He took a sip of the hot tea.
“It was okay, nothing special. Thankfully, I only had to be there for training and not on an actual battlefield.”
Victor looked at him and smiled.
“I’m glad they let you go home this early, I wasn’t sure you would be here before Christmas.”
Vincent HATED Christmas, but he forced a smile back.
“Mmm, y-yeah. I made it before… How is it that you aren’t with your lady?”
Victor just looked at Vincent, getting a bit red from that question.
“S-she, um, she decided to spend Christmas with her family back upstate. Of course she wanted me to come with her, but I didn’t want to leave father all alone.”
“You are a fool.”
Vincent said and smirked.
“F-fool?! No, I am simply being the family man that I was raised to be. Once I get married, my wife will be a part of our family traditions as well.”
Victor smiled proudly and that annoyed Vincent very much.
He tried to divert the whole family talk.
“How is your work?”
“It’s busy, as usual. The court is full, a lot of robberies, you know how the Immigrants and Blacks are.”
Vincent wanted to lean forward and punch his brother hard in the face. All of this racist and anti-immigrant talk was picked up from their father. The younger brother knew better, he learned from his mother. No matter the color of somebody's skin or their background, we were all humans. Bleeding the same red blood.
“Aha…” The younger brother sipped louder.
“I don’t want to bore you with my work talk, Vincent… I’m sure you are also really tired from the trip. Coming home all the way from California must have been exhausting.”
“...Sure… exhausting…”
Vincent slowly put the teacup back down and looked at his brother with a serious expression.
“I think I will go unpack and lay down, we can talk more tomorrow. Who knows when father will wrap up his work.”
“O-of course Vincent, you should do whatever you wish. You have fresh sheets and towels on your bed.”
“...thank you.”
Vincent slowly stood up and made his way upstairs.
The wall up the staircase had family photographs. Older photographs on the bottom and as you go up newer pictures would be present. The newest one was a photograph of Victor’s graduation.
Vincent stared at it every time while going up, loathing it.
Upstairs was quiet, since only bedrooms were located there, as well as bathrooms that connected to them. The floor would slightly creek, old wood that holds memories, back when Victor and Vincent would run around the very same hallway, hurrying up to race downstairs where their mom would be waiting with a warm breakfast.
Vincent glances back downstairs, it’s as if he could see his mother. It brings a slight smile on his face.
“Goodnight Mom…He said under his breath, slowly going into his room,losing the door silently.
The bedroom didn’t change much. The last time it was changed around was when he was in university, studying engineering. Old notes taped to the wall by the desk, but also on the ceiling above his bed, that made him giggle a bit. Just thinking about how his brain never went silent, he always had to scribble new ideas on tiny pieces of paper. Those ideas weren’t even for his university, it was for his own mind castle. Where he would keep all of those ideas, making new ones, when technology would advance far enough for him to create.
He was the top of his class, colleagues and professors called him a prodigy, but in his fathers eyes he was simply a “dreamer”. Somebody that lived “among the clouds”.
“He needs come back to reality”, that’s what his father would say to anybody that asked how Vincent was doing.
Victor? Oh, he was the golden boy. A boy that decided to go follow his fathers footprints. Studying law, wanting to become a lawyer, maybe even a judge. Victor’s accomplishments got all of the praise, recognition, put up on the walls, being told from person-to-person.
Vincent lived in his brother's shadow. Of course Victor didn’t want to overshadow his own little brother. Maybe he didn’t want to see just how bad it had gotten, but Vincent also didn’t want to excuse it. To him, it was a sort of betrayal. As if he was left in the dark to fight his battles all alone, when in reality his older brother was supposed to help him fight.
Victor was never a fighter; he wanted to solve everything with a “civil” conversation. After their mother was gone, their father started to direct his anger towards Vincent. Why?
Because Vincent looked so much like his mother. They had the same shade of cool brow hair, diamond-shaped face, one of Vincent’s eyes was aqua blue, just like hers, and, according to others, Vincent had his mother’s smile.
Their father didn’t want to look at Vincent, at all of those similarities, the living reminder of his dead wife, and Victor seemed to accept that. Never questioning their father, never there to stop their father's rage, never holding Vincent while he cried alone in his room.
“What a joke. I shouldn’t cloud my mind with all of this”
Vincent ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes to catch a break, but his mind didn’t let him. His mind went on and on, 24/7.
There was never a time when it was completely silent.
Since his mind didn’t want to settle down, he picked up a pen and paper. Drawing out some ideas he had while he was on the bus on his way home. They were components for radios.
“Hmmm, if I somehow can figure out how to transfer certain signals maybe a bit further…”
He had the pen tap the side of his forehead, something he would do while he was thinking hard. Helped him with brainstorming.
Crushed paper flew behind him. One paper, two, three and soon he lost count. The pencil had to be sharpened so many times, he could barely hold it with his fingers.
“...and this could, mmm no! Not good, something is mi-”
As he was muttering to himself, he looked outside the window. The sun was already coming up.
“Did I really stay up all night?”
He turned his back and saw the mess he made with all of the paper, and also books he opened and threw.
Vincent took a deep breath and stood up from his desk, he walked over to open his suitcase and take his pajamas out. Maybe it was a silly idea to try and sleep now, but he also knew he was not ready to deal with his father and brother without any sleep.
His father…
Lord, he didn’t want to even think about what he would ask him and want from him. What is it he will want to hear from Vincent? The only reason Vincent went to the military was because he wanted to go away from home, and to also seek an opportunity to work with the newest broadcasting technology. The only problem he had with that was, he was a simple soldier. The opportunity to work with military technology has to be earned and he would have to prove himself.
Vincent didn’t like guns, well, that was a bit of a lie. His father would take them hunting sometimes, he can appreciate the artistic nature of guns. How they are made, taken care of and the purpose they serve. In the military though, if you were a mere soldier, you were the bottom feeder, and Vincent WASN’T a bottom feeder.
“Why didn’t I just stay in California…”
He looked up at the ceiling as he laid on his back.
Right, back to his thoughts.
His fellow soldiers were mostly deserving of the “bottom feeder” title, but not Vincent. He worked too hard to be put in the same box, no matter what his father told him his whole life, he knew he was smart. Above average smarts. Destined for big things.
“Destined… yeah”
His thoughts went somewhere else.
“You are destined for big things, Vinnie.”
Little Vincent looked up at his mother with his bright, wide eyes.
“What do you mean, momma?”He slowly tilted his head, questioning her statement.
His mother started to slowly pet his hair.
Whenever she pet his hair, Vincent’s little heart would beat faster. She was the one thing grounding him, making him feel safe, loved, and seen. Even with his eyes closed, he would recognize his mother’s touch in any given moment. The way she gently brushed her fingers through his hair, with such care… Vincent could stay here forever; he wanted to stay in this moment forever.
“Mama knows you are smart, not only smart, but bright. Shining like the Northern Star. When you speak, others gather around you just to hear your ideas. Many turn to me and tell me how lucky I am to have such a bright son, and I agree…”
“Momma…”
Vincent looked back up at the ceiling, slowly closing his eyes and letting himself finally drift to sleep.
It was already way past 1 pm, even though his father didn’t approve of being in bed so late, he didn't wake Vincent up.
Vincent is an adult man after all.
When they were kids, Victor used to rush over to Vincent’s room and be the one waking him up. Younger brothers are usually the ones nagging the older brothers, but between these two, it was reversed. Victor loved nagging his younger brother, lovingly. All of that closeness, now gone…
“Father, you are out of your study, hope you didn’t overwork yourself.”
Victor said as he slowly walked into the living room, making sure to move like a shadow, being present, but not dragging attention to himself necessarily.
Victor was very polite with his father, ever since his mother died he made sure to also check up on him.
“Of course I didn’t, you should already know I take my health very seriously”
Their father slowly flipped the newspapers as he was sitting on the living room couch. The living room was quiet, the only thing you could hear was the fireplace that was crackling quietly.
“Let me guess, Vincent is still asleep?”
Victor was a bit puzzled with that question.
“I didn’t know you knew he came, since I didn’t notice you leave your study at all during the night.”
His father looked at him, his expression serious, but soft.
“Of course I know, I don’t have to see him to know he came back”
Victor didn’t want to push any unnecessary buttons. There will be a lot of drama probably happening the second Vincent decides to walk down and join them. Vincent and his father never really got along, it was like two bulls headbutting each other over and over again. Never admitting that maybe they are both in the wrong.
Without making any more fuss about it, Victor simply took a seat and decided to pick up a book to pass the time.
Vincent slowly opened his eyes, still looking up at the ceiling, his university notes staring back at him.
“I was such a naive kid…” Vincent thought to himself. All of those drawings and notes made no sense. He was thinking way too far into the future. The technology he wanted to create and had ideas for were impossible to build, especially now. That didn’t stop him from being too hard on himself, in his head he had to be “perfect” or simply try harder if he failed.
Just the idea of going downstairs and having to talk to his father and brother made him sick. His stomach was already turning like a washing machine.
He didn’t have to be here, but he felt like he needed to be here. His mother would have loved that. If he didn’t visit home, if he moved away, what would that say about him? What kind of son would he be if he left his father and brother alone after his mother died?
It’s been so long since she passed, but even after all of these years passed, Vincent felt obligated to come home, even if it was to play pretend. Play into the “perfect American family”.
There was a little bit of light that was coming in from the curtains, it was warm. Warmth was something Vincent associated with his mother, she was his sun. She still is.
After a long sigh, Vincent decided to stand up and actually get dressed. Even though he didn’t want to deal with his family right now, there was no avoiding it, at least not permanently.
A simple sweater and pants will do, he had no energy to actually look more “presentable”.
The upstairs hallway was cold and empty, it’s been like that for years now. Every time he would return home, it felt so unwelcoming. Walls that were once filled with loving pictures were now either empty or filled with pictures Vincent hated.
He clenched his teeth as he slowly started to walk downstairs. Just like his father didn’t have to see him to know he was home, Vincent didn’t have to see his father to know he was around.
“Good afternoon, Vincent.”His father said, in a very cold tone.
“Father, Victor…”
Vincent simply sat at the dining table, not wanting to be too close, while his brother and father both sat close to each other.
“What made you sleep so long? I’m guessing it was from exhaustion.”His brother noted.
“Exhaustion? From what? Slacking?”His father added.
Vincent wanted to strangle him. Leave it to his father to make his blood boil in an instant. Rage consumed his entire body.
“I had trouble falling asleep, that’s all.”Vincent said quietly.
“Hm, are you sure you weren’t up all night drawing your ridiculous ideas? I thought the military would straighten you up.”
It took everything in his body to not get up and punch his father in the face.
“Well, I plan on going in for another military training as soon as I am called. No point in staying here any longer than I have to.”
Vincent’s father looked at him for a split second in disappointment and looked back at his newspapers.
Victor jumped in.
“B-but you just came home. Maybe stay for Christmas and also New Years? I could finally show you my office, it’s next to dad’s in the-”
Vincent interrupted Victor. “I can’t choose when I get called back, you can show me… some other time.”
That hurt Victor, ever since their mother died him and Vincent became more distant. Maybe because Vincent saw Victor as a copied and pasted version of his father.
Victor thought that wasn’t fair, he was nothing like their father, but he also didn’t want to force Vincent.
“Sure…” Victor said quietly and looked back down at his book.
From that one simple interaction, Vincent refused to stay there until Christmas.
Why wait and get called when he could simply ask the nearest recruiting center to send him somewhere, anywhere. Hopefully far enough so he wouldn’t have to interact with his family.
“This… mmm, sure yes. This, no… This for sure”
Vincent was throwing things in his bag he would take with him. There was no need to pack anything other than clothes, their bags get searched at the military post. Bringing anything “unnecessery” would be thrown out.
Vincent didn’t want to bother and try to explain to his brother or his father why he is leaving again and where he is heading. Until his father stops acting the way he does, Vincent won’t be back. Clear and simple.
“Vince? Where are you going?” His brother asked.
“...”
At first, Vincent didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted to simply leave and not have to explain himself anymore. His brother didn’t actually do anything wrong, but to Vincent, his brother was on his dads side. Never standing up for Vincent, just staying quiet and watching, listening…
“You don’t have to worry about where I’m going.” Vincent said in a cold tone, not turning around to face his brother.
“B-but you just came home.Did I do something? I know father is a lot b-”
“No ‘buts’, Victor. I refuse to stay here… I’ll write you letters, now please, leave me alone”
Vincent took a deep breath and decided to leave, now. He wasn’t going to wait for his father, that’s the last thing he wanted to deal with.
Snow had stopped falling, but the streets were still filled with it. Some people went to the streets to help clear up all of that snow. Vincent looked at them and truly wondered why do strangers help each other, why do they smile and seem genuinely unbothered by labour. His mother always taught him to be kind to strangers, and Vincent listened, but there was always something in him, something that was lacking. He was kind when it came to words and showing kindness through his actions, but the part of feeling happy while helping others, it wasn’t there. His mother always seemed genuinely happy and fulfilled when she helped others. Vincent wanted to be just like her, but something inside of him just didn’t spark; he was faulty.
During his childhood, Vincent didn’t have many friends. His best friend was their family dog. Kids his age didn’t seem interesting enough, they annoyed Vincent with their crying, yelling, playing… It was all too much.
Any social event he attended as a child and as he grew up, they were never enjoyable either. It’s as if others simply don’t understand him, they do go to his level. Vincent sees them under him, they don’t deserve his attention.
Since they don’t deserve his attention, why would he want to befriend any of them.
Vincent was also aware that his lack of emotions and empathy wasn’t good, it wasn’t “normal”, so he got really good at hiding it when needed. Acting out emotions accordingly.
Somebody died? He would cry.
Somebody got promoted? He would smile and cheer.
Somebody got close to him and flirted? He played into it a bit.
The only emotions he was strongly connected with was either extreme anger that sometimes turned manic, or overwhelming depression.
Vincent would never let anybody in his life know this, especially not his doctors or the military. The last thing he needed was a target on his back. He wouldn’t allow people to whisper rumours about him, thinking he is some helpless bastard that can’t connect with his emotions, somebody who lacks the ability to connect to others. It was easier to hide and pretend to be one of the sheep, and not the big scary wolf.
Playing pretend was also amusing at times, seeing just how naive people were, falling for Vincent's lies. Lies that sounded smooth as honey when they exited his mouth. Up until now nobody actually accused him of lying or pretending, and Vincent will make sure it stayed that way.
Vincent slowly opened the door to the recruitment center.
“Good day, how may we h— Oh! Vincent, right?”
It was the same young man that recruited Vincent a year ago.
“Yes, that is indeed my name. Vincent Whittman”
Vincent sat down across from the young man.
“Y-yes, I remember you. We did hear some good things about you all the way from California. The sergeant there was impressed with your knowledge when it comes to mechanical aspects, engineering, though he was also angry that you didn’t focus on the training aspect. You are a simple soldier after all…”
Vincent was so annoyed, he wished he could grab a pencil from the young man's desk and stab him in the eye. What did HE know about his talent for engineering, nobody appreciated him.
“I assure you I won’t step out of line… again.” Vincent said and forced a smile.
“Of course you won’t, so… what made you come here? Thought you would be with your family, most soldiers went home for the holidays.”
The young man was curious.
“I want to be drafted again, well, I want to go train some more. Things aren’t working out for me here…”
“H-huh? You WANT to go to another military post? That’s unusual to hear, but who am I to deny you that. Hmm, let me see what’s available.”
The young man started to flip through some papers, his desk was honestly a mess.
“Hmm, there is a spot in… Louisiana, New Orleans…”
NEW ORLEANS?
Vincent was seconds from bashing his head against the desk. Out of all of the States in America, he got offered Louisiana…
“So, wanna go?”