Work Text:
It was another cold and dreary morning in miserable Britan, the only thing differentiating that day from the rest was that we were being evacuated from that awful country- well I say we but it was just me, my Auntie couldn't come for some odd reason, but it wasn't really for me to decide.
"Peter, are you ready to get off?"
The warm, familiar voice of my Auntie snapped me out of my aimless gazing out of the window and I grabbed ahold of my suitcase before I stood up, grasping the railing for support against the moving bus.
"Yes, Auntie!"
I said with a chipper tone but before I knew it we were stood outside the airport, me clinging to her like a limpet and sniffling back tears as she tried to console me.
"Oh, Peter... Don't be like that, sweetpea! It's just a little time apart and then we'll see each other again!"
I knew what she was saying was rational in all aspects but it didn't feel like it. I was only young when it happened, but it felt like having my parents torn away from me all over again... Eventually I sucked it up, said my goodbyes and went on my way to the airport entrance, feeling a little pit growing in my stomach as I heard my Auntie's voice waiver as she called out from behind me.
As soon as I made my way into the waiting room of the airport the noise and influx of people hit me like a freight train, I thought I was going to get trampled! Thankfully a few moments later I spotted my saving grace; a row of free seats that was mostly out of the way of the suffocating crowds. So I set my eyes on them and began to make a beeline for the seats, but in my desperate attempt to escape I accidentally bumped into a group of boys that were like a swarm of bats. Choir boys. The force of the boys knocked me off my feet and I fell flat on my back as the wind was knocked out of my lungs with a soft squeak. My eyes trailed up the body of the cloaked figure that loomed over me menacingly and to my surprise it was a freckled, skinny, ginger boy with icy blue eyes that glowered down at me as the group came to a sudden halt.
"You know, you should really watch where you're going, boy."
He turned his nose up at me before looking me up and down, I felt his eyes judgingly examining every inch of me, carefully trying to pick me apart until he turned with an unimpressed huff and returned to walking. I was so gobsmacked that I just sat there on the ground, watching the tall lad walk off- that was until I felt a gentle, yet firm, pair of hands raising me to my feet; it was one of the choir boys that was stood at the back of the group.
Short chestnut hair that was trimmed into a slightly overgrown bowlcut and a warm grin that seemed to constantly plaster his face. He dusted the dirt from my windbreaker jacket and pants while trying to apologise on behalf of the chapter chorister.
"You alright?- Sorry about him, he didn't mean to be so rude."
I nodded softly but before I could ask his name there was a firm voice calling out from the bat-like group of boys.
"Come on, Maurice! We're gonna leave you behind if you don't hurry up!"
Maurice. What a nice name.
As quickly as he came to my rescue, Maurice was patting my back in a farewell and rushing back to the other choir boys. My eyes followed him as he left but the hustle and bustle of the airport quickly reminded me I needed a place to sit, so I walked over to the row of seats that were surprisingly still empty and sat down with my suitcase by my feet.
My moment of peace was short-lived though as I saw a young lad that looked no older than six wandering around and looking rather distressed- seriously though, who leaves a boy that young on his own?
"Erm... excuse me? Little boy! Are you alright? You look a bit... lost"
Before I knew it the littleun was latched onto my leg and weeping like it was going out of fashion, so I gently guided him over to the row of seats and sat him down as I tried my hardest to soothe him.
"There there... It's alright... now, what's you're name?"
He managed to choke out a sentence or two before returning to his wailing. "P-Percival Wemys Madison... I-I want my mummy!"
Oh dear... I held him, rubbed his back and rocked him as he cried out for his mum, each sob more heartbreaking than the last. Who would leave such a young child on their own? I mean, I was twelve so it was understandable that I went on my own, but six? No wonder the poor thing was wailing like he'd never see his mum again! I wondered if I'd ever see my auntie again... I was quickly shaken out of my thoughts as I felt Percival bury his tear-stained face into my chest with the fabric of my windbreaker clutched in his little hands. I realised I had no time for such thoughts and I rubbed his back as his sobs began to die down, his breath coming in short little gasps as he recovered from the intensity of his wailing.
Eventually my flight number was called and I borded with Percival by my side, his small hand grasping my own- but as we sat down I got this odd feeling... A sort of pain in my stomach but I didn't feel the need to be sick. Ultimately I chalked it up to nerves and buckled Percival and myself in, unable to shake the feeling.
