Work Text:
Their treehouse. Basil always found it quite nice. Maybe because they built it together, putting their shared happiness into it, or maybe it was just the solitude it provided, but Basil was sure, that no evil could reach them there.
Plank walls and flooring served well as the foundation for everything inside. Even though there wasn't a lot of furniture, treehouse seemed complete — a perfect safespace.
Basil plopped down onto the chair, facing the only window. He turned around, seeing Sunny, who was resting peacefully on the carpet in the center of the room. It had been a long, tiring day. After tracing Sunny's body from head to waist, Basil quickly turned his head back.
A series of thoughts appeared in Basil's head. Looking for too long might irritate him, why am I doing it anyway?
He is just being a caring friend.
Basil found himself staring at the counter. A rusty toaster, a dusty plushie, and the gardening tool wrap Basil brought with him. Hand slowly moving over: first going over the short-handled shovel, wood's texture was smooth even though the tool was used for a long time. Second — over the twine rope, it's end was torn. Basil extended his finger and moved it further down the wrap. Then — he touched the duct tape. Basil's finger got stuck to it.
Annoyed, Basil tried to free himself from the sticky grasp. His initial attempt failed, wrap almost fell to the floor. Basil sighed and moved his eyes across, counting the instruments.
A sharp throbbing pain in his temples. Basil almost collapsed, but saved himself by leaning on the counter. Blur overtook his sight, he tried to shake it off, but to no avail. All he could do was watch the images appearing in his head.
****
It was a cloudy morning, but golden rays of sun abundantly broke through the white shroud of the skies. Little warm rain droplets splashed onto the walkway. Just being outside would make one smile unconsciously. No bad thing would dare to mar the beauty of such a day. That was an obvious observation, but one young boy would disagree.
Fast hectic steps — a blond ran down the street, his face depicting the greatest of fears. What happened in the far left house, that could make one so miserable on this great day?
Boy ran, splashing the rare puddles and barely keeping himself from falling headfirst onto the pavement. He tried to breathe using both his nose and mouth, but no amount of humid morning air was enough.
Blond crossed the street, then went into the hedges, desiring to reach his home as fast as possible. Trees surrounded him, but through them a magnificent garden could be seen, boy was heading towards it.
The garden was indeed of stunning beauty. Clean rows of flowers and ferns lined both sides of the garden, slightly curving at their ends. In the center stood a little pond, a stone-laid one. Filled with todays rainwater, it reflected the sunlight and would surely blind the poor fellow, who looked into it.
But boy ignored all of this and beelined towards the house on the other side of the garden.
He would certainly succeed, if not for a little thing in his way. It was unwise of him to try jumping the fence, his build was clearly not of an athlete and the barrier itself was half his own height.
By some miracle he actually made it over the fence itself, but it was the landing that stopped his frantic wish to make it home. First his green shirt became a little greener by sliding through the grass, then his little head landed right onto one of the pond's cobbles.
Boy, it appears, got knocked out.
****
Basil found himself in some kind of weird place. The ground was black, in the distance he could see the rising sun, but it was black too, just not as black as everything else.
Basil blinked, now the sun was gone. In its place endless rows of flowers appeared, stretching across as far as Basil could see. There was all kinds of flowers but one type was most common: poppies. Needless to say that they were also black.
It didn't took Basil long to understand that he was dreaming or something similar. He trailed down into the direction where sun previously been.
Basil was barely one minute into his walk when a voice came from behind him, or it was two voices rather.
Clumsy idiot.
Like Grandma always said, don't you ever rush.
"Huh?". Basil's attention was focused on the insult. Why would something say mean things to him in his own dream.
You heard? He thinks he owns things. He is also greedy.
He is just a naive child, don't be so hard on him. He just didn't realize it yet.
"Realize?". Realize what? Basil tried to make out what was talking, but it didn't matter which direction he turned, the voices always came from behind.
Look at him waisting the precious time. How quickly you forgot what you were doing. Do you even remember why are you here?
Stop bombarding him with all this nuisance. How do you expect him to act if you don't let him to even see us?
Basil nodded. He wasn't sure why. It just felt natural to agree with someone who was defending him. Basil turned around one more time. Now he faced two radiating beings talking to him.
A flower? A fucking flower. They say kids have the greatest imaginations. If that's true, then we got a faulty one. He didn't even bother to give us colors, what a prick.
I like it. I always wanted to be a flower. And why would he give us color? It would be mean towards the little ones. They are monochrome, how would they feel? He is so kind and compassionate. Even in a hurry he cares about everyone.
"Why would I be in a hurry? I'm just sleeping, aren't I?". Basil looked at the two giant floating flowers. One being the bud of petunia and the other — a tulip. His expression conveyed a slight shock, but not much more.
Why are you staring at me like that? If I had eyes, I would stare at you back, and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't like it. Just imagine your face, I bet you would run away like you did today whe...
Second voice didn't let it finish. Tulip now sounded louder than before.
Don't dwell on this meanie's prattling! Tell us what you remember. I think you're not quite sure what you were doing.
Basil felt inclined to answer. "Alright, Good Flower. I was rushing home to... Why was I rushing home?". Basil put a hand to his forehead. It hurt.
Of course, we got favouritism now. They hated Jesus, because he was telling the truth. And you should hate me, a boy who ran away from his only friend because he got a little scared. Wimp.
Don't listen to him. You ran away because you needed your tools, of course. How would you help your friend without them? But you are a little clumsy, and you ended up here.
Basil frowned, he wasn't a fan of this religious stuff. Then his expression eased. "Yes, I remember. Sunny got in trouble, and I went home to grab my instruments to help him. I ran home, but tripped and hit my head". This is why it hurts so much. Why would he jump that fence, why didn't he take the normal path anyway?
Are you even hearing yourself? A bunch of baloney, all of this. Wake up, Basil.
You just wanted to help your friend so much, you took the wrong turn. That's why Grandma used to walk you to kindergarten and to school, remember? She called you her little goldfish, you liked this nickname.
A warm smile appeared on Basil's face. Grandma, he should check on her after he helps Sunny. The smile dissipated when bud of petunia started spinning like a pinwheel, accelerating as it got closer to him.
Her little goldfish, really? How did one come up with such degeneracy? You think so little of your Grandma? You're getting poisoned by the lies! Wake up Basil!
Yes, you should visit her after, you're such a lovely grandson. When she hears that you helped your friend, she will be so proud.
"Shut up, Mean Flower". Basil pointed his finger at the bud, almost touching it — that's how close it was.
Right as Basil's arm stopped bud ceased rotating, at least the center of it. The colorless petals continued their twisted round dance, shaking, getting pulled in and away from the stationary part. After a few rotations all of the petals scattered, the bud of petunia fell to the ground.
Doomed. Sunny. Yourself. Selfish. Idiot.
The voice was quiet, but still audible.
Good job, I'm so proud of you. Now you need to go and save your friend. And don't forget your tools. They are in the shed, remember?
****
Blond boy stood up. Even though his injury was clearly severe and his previous terror was a lot, he looked unfazed by either of them.
He proceeded into the small wooden shack right next to the house. Inside parked in line rakes, shovels, on the rope were hanging a pair of gloves and pants. In the corner stood a roll of tarp, boy reached for it.
He laid it out on the table, making sure that everything was in place. Inside were his trusty shovel, a brand new rope for supporting frail stems, which he haven't got to use once yet, then his green-handled garden shears and a sealed pack of duct tape.
Everything was in place.
Boy closed the shed, then made his way to the far left house, which he fled not so long ago.
Cautiously, but not in the fearful way, he went for the front door. It was closed.
Blond knew what he was doing. He went through the trees into house's backyard. A glass sliding door was stopping him from getting inside. Sunbeams illuminated the interior of the house so brightly that you could see the individual dust particles.
Boy didn't hesitate, he rolled out his kit and brought up a shovel, jamming it between the door and the frame. A few pushes and he was inside.
Making his way through the first room, he turned right. A staircase. Boy flinched, for a second he even turned away but returned and quickly ran up it.
To the right once again. Blond opened the door. It was dark inside. Weird. The curtains were open, but sun didn't make it in. There was no sun outside.
Two things could be seen in the room: a dark-haired kid and something else, lying in the bad across from where he was standing.
The door closed, everything were pitch black.
There was some arguing coming from inside. Blond was trying to coax the other to go somewhere. Dark-haired kid didn't listen, he cried, he screamed, he kicked and he fought, he tried to get aw...
-Clang
****
Basil recovered himself from the sudden stroke. He managed to get upright, then turned to Sunny. "I wonder who this boy was? And his friend, even though they didn't seem to get along".
No answer.
"Right, how would you know. I shouldn't bother you with those stupid questions". Basil shook his head.
They are not stupid. You just wanted to share your thoughts. That's how much you value your only friend.
Basil exhaled with relaxation. "You should rest anyway, Sunny. We both went through some troubles, but it's all good now".
Oh, you're so nice, doing all of this for him. But don't you deserve some rest too?
Basil got closer to Sunny, sitting next to him. Basil was tired, a little time off wouldn't hurt. He picked up the garden shears, they were red. Basil rased his hand.
Two boys were resting peacefully in their treehouse.