Unravelling Zeke - Pictures of You
Banner by aliensouldream
Title: Pictures of You
Author: Gabi
Fandom: The Faculty
Pairing: Z/C
Rating: R
Summary: Casey can't wait to see what's on those photos.
Disclaimer: I own neither the rights nor the characters. If I did, Mr Tyler would be sporting a lovely new collar. I make no money. I have no money. Don’t sue me.
Note: Beta’d by Aliensouldream. Huge thanks for the imput.
Previous
Epiphany / Party & Boring / Plans / Casa Del Tyler / The Suit / Mom / Hate You / Meet the Connors / New York - Friday / New York - Saturday / New York - Sunday / Texting / The Deal / Complex / Snow
NOTE: This takes place after Snow so read that batch first for this to make sense.
Dragging Zeke out of bed before sunrise had been a monumental task of epic proportions. He’d fought every step of the way. Casey didn’t have the physical strength to carry his ass into the shower but he did have the balls to give him a taste of his own medicine. He’d impressed himself at just how teeth-gratingly annoying he could be. Zeke’s increasingly grumpy threats had fallen on deaf ears and eventually Casey had won the battle.
Chrissy was already in the kitchen, complaining that she was still on Atlantic Time and had made them a flask of hot chocolate when she’d heard the shower running. She’d practically shoved Zeke through the front door to ‘go have fun’.
The drive had been painfully slow with the music down low so Zeke could concentrate on driving on the slippery surface in the dark. He’d had the car less than forty-eight hours, he was determined not lose control in the deep slush. He’d flatly ruled out panoramic views from hill tops. She wasn’t four wheel drive, the tyres didn’t have the grip and one slip of the wheels on an incline and they were toast. He’d grumbled incessantly until Casey explained that while he knew Zeke had only agreed to come out because he loved him, it’d be a much nicer gesture if he’d shut the fuck up and let him enjoy it. Zeke had taken the hint.
As the sky lightened, Casey had managed to get a few shots from the open window of the slow moving vehicle, of deserted, snow covered streets. He’d even got Zeke to pull over a few times so he could get out for better angles. He’d made it a priority to thank him and show him affection and appreciation. Anything to keep his mood light. It seemed to have worked, but was evidently more to do with Zeke’s amusement at his efforts.
When they’d got to the edge of town Casey had hunted for a good scenic spot to catch the sunrise. He’d found a large field, covered in a pristine blanket of snow. A lone skeletal tree acted as a perfect focal point. They’d drank hot chocolate in the car while they waited for the sky to change. It had been a spectacular show. The clouds burned red and orange across the sky. The low rising sun had turned the white blanket into a quilt of gold. Peering from behind clouds, it had set the sky on fire with flames of deep yellow. Even Zeke was impressed.
As the sun rose higher they’d headed off to find more locations. The small nearby wood had been perfect. Not too dense and accessible by a now hidden footpath. Only the tracks of small creatures had disturbed the blanket. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. By the time they’d made it to the trees their feet were wet and painfully cold. Casey hadn’t been deterred. Zeke hadn’t complained. Mercifully, they’d been disturbed by a group of children on sleds and after Casey struggled to hold Zeke back from stealing a sled for his own fun he’d decided he’d taken enough photos. Back at the car, Zeke had poured more hot chocolate for Casey to warm his frozen fingers and silence his chattering teeth.
The shower was a Godsend. Finally warm and dry they’d been fed by Chrissy and lulled into a false sense of security. It was time to go shopping while the sky was clear. She’d won the argument against her son and set off in the safer, four wheel drive hire car. Zeke protested at having to sit in the back like some little kid. It had been his own fault, not wanting Casey sat in the back on his own but that hadn’t stopped him playing up like a little kid until Chrissy had threatened to bang their heads together and turn the car around.
She’d taken a detour to allow Casey to put the films into a specialist camera store rather than have them generically developed by a supermarket kiosk. He’d been disappointed to learn that the fastest return would be twenty four hours due to the onslaught of Christmas party rolls they’d received.
He’d warned them that the rolls were old and that if there was anything salvageable on them he’d wanted them, regardless of quality. He could scan them into Photoshop if needed to improve them. He just hoped that one of his parents would need last minute items tomorrow and drive him out to collect them. He couldn’t wait until after Christmas.
Grocery shopping with Chrissy had been an entirely new experience for Casey. His parents shopped for everything at Walmart or Shoprite. She’d taken them to two different deli’s and a bakery. Only then did she drive out of town to Whole Foods in Columbus. She’d said the food was worth the drive. Casey had walked through the store wide eyed at the vast range of imported and quality food and at the sheer price of it. She didn’t bat an eyelid when Zeke wordlessly dumped random items into the cart. Or every time he snatched something that Casey had been tempted by and dumped that in too. Casey had kept his grinning mouth shut.
Back home they’d eaten like kings then set about narrowing down the pins on Casey’s map. First she’d made them narrow it to three countries. That had been easy enough. China, Japan and Thailand. The rest of the pins were removed. One week travelling Japan, no problem, it’s a straight line. She made them plot a route through China into Thailand that would take them past their priority hotspots in two weeks. That hadn’t been so easy. A few of the more remote pins had been removed but at least they were getting organised.
Zeke had begrudgingly dropped Casey off two minutes before the 9pm deadline. He’d made a point that the two minutes were a goodwill gesture. Casey had called that he was home and spent the next two minutes struggling to get Zeke into the hallway for an out of sight goodbye kiss and the next ten minutes executing it. Zeke had promised to come round on Christmas day to drop his present off, gave him one last kiss, shouted merry Christmas down the hall and left.
He’d been relieved to discover that Zeke’s present had been delivered and he’d spent the rest of the night wrapping presents and helping his mom in the kitchen, annoying her with excited tales of how cool Zeke’s mom was.
~*~
The next morning he’d woken early, disorientated by the lack of Zeke’s warmth by his side. He was home. Damn! It was Christmas Eve. Awesome! He’d rushed out of bed to discover he was the first up and set about making cereal. In a flash of genius he made his parents breakfast and took it up on a tray. He was the Golden Boy today. Ammunition in his argument to get one of them to drive him to the camera store later.
He was sprawled on the couch watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas when his parents finally made an appearance. They sat with him through the cartoon and Casey was hit by how much he loved and appreciated his family. They could be a pain in the ass at times but he couldn’t imagine what it must be like for Zeke to miss out on something so simple as sitting around the TV with silent company.
He really wanted those photos.
“Dad?”
“Yes, son?”
“Do you need anything from town today?”
“No, why?”
Dammit! “Mom?”
“What’s up, hon?”
“Do you need anything? I’ll come and help.”
“Not that I’m aware of.” She furrowed her brow then shook her head. “No.”
Damn! He produced a well practiced pout. “Is there any chance one of you could drive me in to town today? I don’t wanna risk driving myself in the snow. I’ll pay for gas, I’ll wash the dishes, help in the kitchen… anything.”
They exchanged glances. Frank finally sighed. “I’ll go. Your mother has things to do today. But I’m holding you to the promise of help.”
“Promise!” He bounced. “Thank you! It won’t take long, I swear. I just gotta pick photos up. I need them today. When can we go?”
“Hold your horses.” he laughed, “When does it close?”
Casey’s heart sank. “They’ll close early today, it’s Christmas Eve. I want to be there by one. …if that’s ok.”
Frank nodded. “We’ll go about twelve, ok? We’ll be back for lunch then you can wash the dishes.”
“Twelve’s fine.” he grinned. Internally he was churning. He wanted them NOW. Why he was being so impatient, he didn’t know. Twenty four hours meant he couldn’t get them ‘til around lunch anyway. It wasn’t fair! It was going to be a LONG two hours and thirteen minutes.
~*~
Casey handed the money to the assistant with obvious impatience, peering over the counter at the three packets of photographs next to the till. He subconsciously tapped his foot while he watched her bag them up. Come onnnn! He didn’t snatch them, he took them with a care that might be reserved for an old treasured heirloom. There was history in these packets. He was desperate to sneak a peek but he had no idea what was on them and didn’t want to react in the store. Besides, his father was waiting in the car. He bit his lip, thanked the girl and hurried to the nearby car.
The drive home was Hell. He stared at the bag as if the intensity of his curiosity would somehow reveal the contents to him and him alone. He raced into the house and on the third stair he was called back down. His lunch was almost ready and he’d promised to help. He managed to keep a lid on his frustration but wolfed his meal and was halfway through washing the dishes when his mom and dad finally finished theirs.
“You’re eager.” said his mom as she popped the plates into the suds. “I hope there’s nothing rude on those photos.”
Casey dropped a fork. “MOM!” He could feel a blush rising. She wasn’t going to believe him if his cheeks burned red. “They’re from the camera Chrissy gave me. I told you last night. She said I could develop them.” He turned away quickly and rushed the rest of the dishes.
“So what’s the hurry?” He could tell by her voice that she was just curious.
“Spirit of adventure, I guess. Even she doesn’t know how old they are or what’s on them. I get to be the first.” He shrugged as he drained the sink. “It’s exciting.” For no apparent reason he gave her a peck on the cheek. “Call me if you need anything.” He was up the stairs in a flash.
Sitting cross legged on his bed, he stared at the packets in front of him and tried to mentally prepare himself. Could be somethin’ or nothin’. Could be good or bad. He was nervous. Did he really want to encounter a photograph like the one he’d seen before? Or worse? How would he handle having to tell Zeke, or show him the photographs? How the Hell would Zeke react? Nonchalantly, he presumed. Externally at least. He was suddenly dreading the whole thing.
He drew in a slow deep breath and grabbed one at random. His heart was racing as he flipped the packet open and drew out the photographs. He let out the breath he was holding at the sight of the first photo. It was a little faded, the contrast not being what it should with a slight colour cast, but considering it’s age he was expecting worse.
A Mediterranean looking hotel. ‘Relais Blu Belvedere’. Nothing sinister about this one. Tentatively he put it to the back. A beautiful white, but devoid of people, hotel room was next. Then a view overlooking crystal blue water edged by lush green cliffs. The next photo made him laugh out loud. Zeke, approximately eight or nine years old was showing off his defiant streak with style. Face angled right up into the lens, those intense eyes full punk attitude, flipping the bird at the camera. Casey was grateful that he couldn’t see any cuts or bruises on the boy. The next shot was the exact same beach scene minus Zeke’s head. Casey chuckled at the thought of his mom trying to get a nice photo of the beach and Zeke jumping in at the last second to ruin it, forcing her to take it again.
The photos were nothing more than innocent vacation shots. Most were stunning scenery or tourist attractions. There was one of Zeke sitting on the sand, talking to another, smaller boy who was building a sandcastle and one of him walking alone across the shoreline. It was more of the same scenery for the next few photos. He was a little disappointed that there weren’t more photos of Zeke, but he understood the urge to get ‘beauty’ shots rather than family ones. He was guilty of the same thing. Still, if she was away all the time it would have been nice to get family photos that Zeke could keep as memories.
The last two photos were obviously ‘film fillers’. Taken around the same time just to use up the last of the film. One was of Zeke in a yard, completely unaware that the camera was on him, kneeling on the grass playing with a large dog. The last photo caught his breath. It was just Zeke, stood in the yard with his hands in his pockets, the dog sat by his side. He’d obviously been asked to pose for the photo. Thankfully there were still no visible marks but something about that photo was wrong and he couldn’t place what it was.
He stared at the unsettling image. Just Zeke and the dog. No one in the background. No cuts, no bruises just a look. That was it. It was the look in Zeke’s eyes that went far beyond defiant. It made Casey wonder if the violence had bred that look or if it was his defiance that had caused the violence in the first place. He’d never know, but it took him a long time to recover from the deep, seething anger that flooded out from eyes of the eight year old on the paper.
He placed the photos back in the pack and reached for another set. He was just as nervous about these. The very first photo melted him. It had the same faded, colour cast quality but the image was clear enough. Christmas at the Tyler house. He could make out one side of a couch, and the base of a large Christmas tree with presents of all sizes underneath. And there was Zeke. About five or six years old, kneeling on the carpet in blue pyjamas, ripping at the paper on a large box.
Casey relaxed a little. Zeke had said he’d been about eight when he first got hit. This set would be safe. If the first photo was anything to go by, it’d be outright cute. He lay on his belly and elbows on the bed and made sure he was comfy as he flipped the first photo to the back.
He was right. Adorable. Little Zeke sat showing off a big box with a grin. My First Science Set. He wondered who’d bought it and if they knew just how badly that had backfired in the boat house. Encouraged, he carried on. Zeke grinning while surrounded by wrapping paper and numerous G.I. Joe toys. Unwrapping Transformers, ‘flying’ the Millennium Falcon round his head, hugging a huge box of Lego, sat with stacks of paints and art equipment, board games, drowning in wrapping paper… Positively beaming, holding a remote control monster truck almost as big as himself. The kid was spoilt rotten!
The next photo shocked him. Little barefoot, pyjama clad Zeke leaning on the arm of the chair, talking to his dad. Casey hadn’t seen any photos of his dad before and the mental image he’d built had been one of a monster. A huge, ugly, violent man with big fists and a permanent scowl. The man sat in that chair was… a man. Evidently tall, but young, slender, relaxed and listening to his son. It threw Casey completely.
He was just a normal guy. Not a bad looking one at that. He could see the family resemblance, although Zeke had picked up his mom’s eyes and full mouth, he had his dad’s build and bone structure. His dad was just a normal guy who could beat up his own eight year old son. The world tilted on it’s axis. It didn’t make sense.
The following photo reduced him to tears. Zeke’s scrawny little form sat on his dad’s lap while he read a book. His dad held the book open while Zeke looked at it. He had his finger on the page, a look of concentration as if he was reading it. His dad was smiling. But not at the book. His smile was focused on Zeke. There was affection and pride there. Perhaps he’d read a particularly long word.
An innocent photo of an innocent moment. Both completely unaware of just how twisted their relationship would become. Unaware of the violence and hatred. Of stabbings and prison and a ruined childhood. Of a future that seemed a million miles away from the scene in that photo. They were happy.
Casey put the photos down and wiped his eyes. This was so much harder than he’d anticipated. Bruises he was prepared for. But not this. This innocence. This… tragedy waiting to happen. Seen in hindsight. He had to pause a while and get himself together.
A few deep breaths later he picked the stack of pictures up, put the front one to the back without looking at it and carried on. This was obviously taken shortly after the previous shot. Zeke, still on his dad’s lap, curled on his back, knees up, laughing while trying to deflect a tickling hand spider. Then dad showing Zeke, in his Muppets t-shirt and jeans, how to control the huge truck on an expanse of carpet. Normal family stuff. The next photo made him audibly “Aww”. Five year old Zeke fast asleep, sprawled across the big dog as it lay on what looked like the kitchen floor. He was scanning that one for definite.
The last few were of Zeke, all wrapped up, tearing round the snow with the dog. Throwing snowballs at it and threatening to throw one at the camera. And there it ended. Christmas over and time for her to pack the camera away and leave for however long. It was strange how the happy shots were more sobering than the previous seething eight year old.
Last batch. Casey felt drained but his curiosity hadn’t diminished. He picked the pack up and pulled out the photos. These weren’t as faded but that wasn’t the first thing that grabbed Casey’s attention. A photo of a large sign in several languages. He only needed to be able to read one. ‘Welcome to Tokyo’
Okay. He could do this. This was post ‘life with dad’. No cuts, no bruises. Casey had been lucky. None of the photos were as bad as he’d expected. Not in that respect anyway. Again, he’d been disappointed at the lack of Zeke in the photos. They were of coasts, cities, street scenes, a distant Mount Fuji and a Zen garden.
When he saw the only shot of Zeke he understood why it was the only shot. Still in the Zen garden, a little distance away from the camera sat a thirteen year old boy in profile. Resting his elbows on his knees he sat in silence, staring at the sand and boulders of the garden.
Casey wanted to believe that the shadow under his eye was exactly that; a shadow. He could believe until he was blue in the face; he knew it wasn’t. It wasn’t so much the bruise that bothered him. It was the expression on Zeke’s face. Or rather, the lack of one. No emotion graced his features. No pain, no wonder, no anger, no fear, nothing. It was something more than numb. It was in the way he looked out across the garden. It was haunted.
He wished he could reach out to that thirteen year old boy and tell him it’d get easier, that he would find someone to share it with, who would do everything in his power to understand. But at that moment, sat in that garden, amongst the beauty of Zen he was in no way able to comprehend that anyone would ever understand. Trapped in his own mind, torturing himself over what had happened and what he was yet to face. Haunted.
Casey shook himself out of his thoughts and continued flicking through the photos. More Japan and then a couple of horses and another family Casey didn’t recognise. No Zeke. He was grateful. That one shot was enough.
Placing the photos back in the packet he tried to decide what he was going to do with them. Should he tell Zeke that they’d been too badly damaged? That there was nothing on them? Should he be honest? Would it stir something in Zeke? Would the photos bring back painful memories or were they still all too clear in his mind?
He was struck by the weight of what the boy he loved had been through. Alone. He fought the urge to curl up on his bed and succumb to sadness. Instead, he went straight down stairs, hugged his parents in turn and thanked them for being who they were.