Long fic: When In The Attic (2/?)
Title: When In The Attic
Author: littlemrstom
Pairing(s): Tom/Bill
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: WIP
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; I own nothing but the plot.
Summary: ...one can find some pretty interesting things.
When six-year-old Bill Kaulitz is orphaned and moved to live with his grandparents, the attic becomes his bedroom. Then, one day, when in the attic, Bill finds a book. A book, which he soon finds out doesn’t just contain pretty pictures, but a secret, a friend, and a whole lot of glitter.
Previous chapters: Prologue,
Author's notes: The beautiful banner was made by ninaelisabeth, and I have to thank themightyjessfor answering all my questions and quelling all my worries.
Bill grunted as he played with the television handset in his hand, pressing random buttons and watching the screen unenthusiastically as the channels flipped over and over. He huffed and scratched absently at his cheek, rearranged Beary on his lap and blew air up at his fringe to move it from where it was dangling in his eyes.
“This is rubbish,” said Bill to Beary, very sincerely, picking him up and sitting him upright on his knees so that he was staring into his big, beady, button eyes. “Isn’t it? I’m bored.”
Sighing, Bill pushed himself to standing and brushed himself off from sitting on the floor. He gripped Beary’s floppy hand in his and began to head for the staircase, the bear whacking off his leg with every step he took across the laminate flooring, which chilled his bare feet.
Just as Bill was about to begin his ascend, a voice grabbed his attention from the kitchen. “Bill?” Agatha called, and popped her head through the door. Under her arm was a large plastic bowl and a wooden spoon covered in a sticky, brown glop that Bill instantly recognized as brownie mix. His mouth immediately began to water and Agatha let out a small chuckle. “Hungry?” she asked, beckoning Bill over with a nod of her head as she retreated back into the kitchen. Bill and Beary followed obediently.
“Can I have some of the mix, Granny?” Bill asked eagerly, standing beside her and peering over the counter with his chin resting on the side, bouncing on his tiptoes. “Please please please?”
Agatha chuckled again and dipped her finger in the mix, offering it to Bill who licked it off eagerly like a kitten. “That’s it,” she told him with fake sternness, “now you have to wait until they’re ready.” She pointed her finger at him and nodded, and Bill accepted it.
“Soooo,” he continued after a slight pause, as he watched his granny begin to spoon the mixture into the brownie tin, “how long will that be? Soon?” His eyes were wide as he watched the brown mixture spread out slowly, filling the corners and sticking to the grease proof paper below it.
The only answer he received was, “A few minutes,” before he was being shooed from the room with a tea towel in his face. “Now you and Beary go upstairs,” Agatha instructed, “I’ll call you when they’re finished, okay?”
Bill huffed dramatically, hoisted Beary up to sit on his shoulder as he exhaled a soft, “Ooookay,” before trampling up the stairs.
Bill entered his chilly bedroom with a sigh. He rubbed his forearms with his small hands, glancing around and seeing that the window was open, but it was too high for him to reach, and so he just shivered and clambered onto his bed. Beary was placed carefully beside him, propped up against his thigh as Bill snuggled under his sheets, his arms poking out at all angles.
Rolling onto his side, Bill came face to face with his bedside table. It was only small, with two drawers for storage and a square top. He frowned when he saw it, and reached out to grab the largest object that was on it.
A framed photo of two people and a tiny baby.
A moment later, Bill sniffed loudly, running his arm under his nose and focusing on the picture. His grandpa had given it to him a few days before and Bill had treasured it since. He stroked a finger over the glass, across his mother’s cheek and sniffed again. He blinked his eyes rapidly, but before any tears could slip down his cheeks, he replaced the photo on the bedside table and rolled out of his bed, ignoring the cold draft that blew over him and began digging under the bed for something to do to take his mind off it.
Everything was kept under the bed, Bill had noticed since moving in with his grandparents. Tens of boxes were stored beneath it, though Bill hadn’t taken the time to explore yet.
As he sniffled one last time, he climbed out of his bed and placed himself on the floor, Beary sitting beside him again. He reached out his arms, where goosebumps were now beginning to rise up, and clasped hold of the first box. He yanked on it, pulling and pulling, but the box didn’t seem to want to move much. He pouted and let go of the cardboard edge, withdrawing his hands and rubbing at his now slightly sore fingers.
Then, he felt something scratching his skin and lifted his hands to his face to inspect them. There was gold glitter all over his palms.
“What?” Bill mumbled to himself, brushing off some of the glitter from his hands and peering back at the box. Sure enough, he noticed then, as he looked closer, the box was dotted in sparkling, gold glitter. “Oh wow,” he breathed, scrambling closer for a better look, his eyes glinting against the shiny bits of paper. “Beary, Beary, look at this!” Bill exclaimed, crawling back to grab Beary before returning to the side of the box.
Bill was sure that the glitter was the coolest thing he’d seen since living with his Grandparents.
“Hmm,” he muttered aloud, frowning at Beary and sitting back on his haunches as he puzzled over how to try and move the box. He had to see what was inside it; after all, there could be more glitter!
With a very determined look settled upon his young face, Bill rolled up his t-shirt sleeves with purpose as he’d seen characters in the films he watched do many times, and wiped his arm across his brow. He sucked in a deep breath, glanced at Beary for support, and tugged at the box again.
It shifted ever so slightly and Bill grinned, pulling harder.
As he tugged, he grumbled and growled, as if he thought the noises would give him more strength. He grumbled and growled the whole time, the box moving ever so slightly, slipping across the floor until finally, finally it sat by his knees.
After dramatically wiping his brow again, this time with real reason, Bill dived straight into the box, eyes wide and searching for anything that sparkled or caught his eye.
He didn’t have to search long. As soon as Bill peered over the edge of the box, his eyes were greeted with gold. Everything shone and glowed and glittered, and Bill’s eyes lit up as if it were candy.
His hands were scrambling through the contents of the box in no time at all, pulling out all sorts of things; random scraps of paper, trinket boxes, pebbles of all shapes and sizes and books. Lots and lots of books; some big, some small, some fat, some thin... but there was one that Bill was drawn to.
Right at the bottom of the box was a book of normal size, normal thickness, but its pages were gold and sparkly, just like the glitter that was now all over the floor and all over Bill. Bill’s lips pursed together as if he were nervous as he reached into the box again and lightly touched the cover.
Bill shivered as he lifted the book out of the box, shuffling back to rest his back against his bed, but he didn’t think it was from the cold blowing in through his open window this time. He couldn’t even really feel the cold now.
Bill turned the book over in his small hands, glitter trickling down between his fingers until it began sweeping and swirling around in the air. The cover was plain black-save for the tiny, sparkly squares that lingered over it-and soft under Bill’s fingers.
“Beary, look,” he whispered, because this was Bill’s book now. He couldn’t have his granny or grandpa coming up and seeing it, could he?
Beary stared back at Bill with his button eyes. Bill took that as Beary’s permission to open it, and slowly he made to draw back the cover.
Swiftly, a gust of wind blew through the window, storming past Bill, ruffling his hair and the book’s pages as it danced through the room. In its wake, it rustled the glitter that now lay scattered about on Bill’s floor, collecting it up in a mini tornado, which had Bill completely enchanted. He lifted his head and watched as it swirled and swirled and turned and turned, his lips fixed in a small ‘o’ of wonder and amazement.
The pages of the book continued to shake even as the wind dropped and the glitter began to fall through the air, landing everywhere imaginable.
“Achoo!” Bill sneezed, coughing and smacking his lips together as the glitter decided to land on his mouth of all places. He jolted up to standing quickly, sneezing a second time, and began batting himself as clean as he found possible, but as he did the book fell from his grasp. A third sneeze worked its way out of Bill’s nose and Bill huffed, rubbing his face with his hands and kicking the book away from him, as if it would make the glitter disappear.
It didn’t seem as cool now that he couldn’t stop sneezing.
A rustling noise to his lower left made Bill look down at the floor. The book was open, its pages scrunching together. Bill’s brows furrowed and he sucked in a breath, and he bravely dared to crouch down and touch the first page.
And then all of a sudden, Bill couldn’t feel the floor anymore.
He yelped as his body seemed to raise itself from the ground, seemed to spin in circles and become enclosed by a golden blanket. He curled into himself, panicking breathlessly and on the verge of tears, confused and scared, but it seemed to end almost as quickly as it began.
Soon, Bill could feel the floor again. He sat forwards where he found himself on the floor, placing his hands flat against the ground, gripping and grasping for something solid as he rocked slightly in his place. He didn’t dare look around, instead choosing to keep his head down and his eyes trained on his feet.
“What?” he managed to rasp out, quickly forgetting the floor and beginning to cling to himself as he dared to look around cautiously for Beary. “Beary?” he whispered, nor daring to speak loudly, unaware of his surroundings. “Beary? Beary!” He was nowhere to be found.
“Who’s Beary?”
Bill’s head snapped up from where he was sat, his eyes wide and nearly bulging out from his face. In front of him was another person; another boy.
The boy was looking down at him, a friendly smile adorning his face. He was short, and looked about the same age as Bill. The boy quickly noticed Bill’s panic, and his smile faded a little. He bent down and offered a hand to Bill, who took it unsurely and pulled himself to his feet.
“Um,” he bumbled, “Beary is my teddy bear,” he said, his voice almost non-existent. “W-who are you?”
The boy’s smile returned, then, possibly even wider than before, and he straightened up proudly. “Hi,” he exclaimed, “I’m Tom!”
Author: littlemrstom
Pairing(s): Tom/Bill
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: WIP
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction; I own nothing but the plot.
Summary: ...one can find some pretty interesting things.
When six-year-old Bill Kaulitz is orphaned and moved to live with his grandparents, the attic becomes his bedroom. Then, one day, when in the attic, Bill finds a book. A book, which he soon finds out doesn’t just contain pretty pictures, but a secret, a friend, and a whole lot of glitter.
Previous chapters: Prologue,
Author's notes: The beautiful banner was made by ninaelisabeth, and I have to thank themightyjessfor answering all my questions and quelling all my worries.
Bill grunted as he played with the television handset in his hand, pressing random buttons and watching the screen unenthusiastically as the channels flipped over and over. He huffed and scratched absently at his cheek, rearranged Beary on his lap and blew air up at his fringe to move it from where it was dangling in his eyes.
“This is rubbish,” said Bill to Beary, very sincerely, picking him up and sitting him upright on his knees so that he was staring into his big, beady, button eyes. “Isn’t it? I’m bored.”
Sighing, Bill pushed himself to standing and brushed himself off from sitting on the floor. He gripped Beary’s floppy hand in his and began to head for the staircase, the bear whacking off his leg with every step he took across the laminate flooring, which chilled his bare feet.
Just as Bill was about to begin his ascend, a voice grabbed his attention from the kitchen. “Bill?” Agatha called, and popped her head through the door. Under her arm was a large plastic bowl and a wooden spoon covered in a sticky, brown glop that Bill instantly recognized as brownie mix. His mouth immediately began to water and Agatha let out a small chuckle. “Hungry?” she asked, beckoning Bill over with a nod of her head as she retreated back into the kitchen. Bill and Beary followed obediently.
“Can I have some of the mix, Granny?” Bill asked eagerly, standing beside her and peering over the counter with his chin resting on the side, bouncing on his tiptoes. “Please please please?”
Agatha chuckled again and dipped her finger in the mix, offering it to Bill who licked it off eagerly like a kitten. “That’s it,” she told him with fake sternness, “now you have to wait until they’re ready.” She pointed her finger at him and nodded, and Bill accepted it.
“Soooo,” he continued after a slight pause, as he watched his granny begin to spoon the mixture into the brownie tin, “how long will that be? Soon?” His eyes were wide as he watched the brown mixture spread out slowly, filling the corners and sticking to the grease proof paper below it.
The only answer he received was, “A few minutes,” before he was being shooed from the room with a tea towel in his face. “Now you and Beary go upstairs,” Agatha instructed, “I’ll call you when they’re finished, okay?”
Bill huffed dramatically, hoisted Beary up to sit on his shoulder as he exhaled a soft, “Ooookay,” before trampling up the stairs.
Bill entered his chilly bedroom with a sigh. He rubbed his forearms with his small hands, glancing around and seeing that the window was open, but it was too high for him to reach, and so he just shivered and clambered onto his bed. Beary was placed carefully beside him, propped up against his thigh as Bill snuggled under his sheets, his arms poking out at all angles.
Rolling onto his side, Bill came face to face with his bedside table. It was only small, with two drawers for storage and a square top. He frowned when he saw it, and reached out to grab the largest object that was on it.
A framed photo of two people and a tiny baby.
A moment later, Bill sniffed loudly, running his arm under his nose and focusing on the picture. His grandpa had given it to him a few days before and Bill had treasured it since. He stroked a finger over the glass, across his mother’s cheek and sniffed again. He blinked his eyes rapidly, but before any tears could slip down his cheeks, he replaced the photo on the bedside table and rolled out of his bed, ignoring the cold draft that blew over him and began digging under the bed for something to do to take his mind off it.
Everything was kept under the bed, Bill had noticed since moving in with his grandparents. Tens of boxes were stored beneath it, though Bill hadn’t taken the time to explore yet.
As he sniffled one last time, he climbed out of his bed and placed himself on the floor, Beary sitting beside him again. He reached out his arms, where goosebumps were now beginning to rise up, and clasped hold of the first box. He yanked on it, pulling and pulling, but the box didn’t seem to want to move much. He pouted and let go of the cardboard edge, withdrawing his hands and rubbing at his now slightly sore fingers.
Then, he felt something scratching his skin and lifted his hands to his face to inspect them. There was gold glitter all over his palms.
“What?” Bill mumbled to himself, brushing off some of the glitter from his hands and peering back at the box. Sure enough, he noticed then, as he looked closer, the box was dotted in sparkling, gold glitter. “Oh wow,” he breathed, scrambling closer for a better look, his eyes glinting against the shiny bits of paper. “Beary, Beary, look at this!” Bill exclaimed, crawling back to grab Beary before returning to the side of the box.
Bill was sure that the glitter was the coolest thing he’d seen since living with his Grandparents.
“Hmm,” he muttered aloud, frowning at Beary and sitting back on his haunches as he puzzled over how to try and move the box. He had to see what was inside it; after all, there could be more glitter!
With a very determined look settled upon his young face, Bill rolled up his t-shirt sleeves with purpose as he’d seen characters in the films he watched do many times, and wiped his arm across his brow. He sucked in a deep breath, glanced at Beary for support, and tugged at the box again.
It shifted ever so slightly and Bill grinned, pulling harder.
As he tugged, he grumbled and growled, as if he thought the noises would give him more strength. He grumbled and growled the whole time, the box moving ever so slightly, slipping across the floor until finally, finally it sat by his knees.
After dramatically wiping his brow again, this time with real reason, Bill dived straight into the box, eyes wide and searching for anything that sparkled or caught his eye.
He didn’t have to search long. As soon as Bill peered over the edge of the box, his eyes were greeted with gold. Everything shone and glowed and glittered, and Bill’s eyes lit up as if it were candy.
His hands were scrambling through the contents of the box in no time at all, pulling out all sorts of things; random scraps of paper, trinket boxes, pebbles of all shapes and sizes and books. Lots and lots of books; some big, some small, some fat, some thin... but there was one that Bill was drawn to.
Right at the bottom of the box was a book of normal size, normal thickness, but its pages were gold and sparkly, just like the glitter that was now all over the floor and all over Bill. Bill’s lips pursed together as if he were nervous as he reached into the box again and lightly touched the cover.
Bill shivered as he lifted the book out of the box, shuffling back to rest his back against his bed, but he didn’t think it was from the cold blowing in through his open window this time. He couldn’t even really feel the cold now.
Bill turned the book over in his small hands, glitter trickling down between his fingers until it began sweeping and swirling around in the air. The cover was plain black-save for the tiny, sparkly squares that lingered over it-and soft under Bill’s fingers.
“Beary, look,” he whispered, because this was Bill’s book now. He couldn’t have his granny or grandpa coming up and seeing it, could he?
Beary stared back at Bill with his button eyes. Bill took that as Beary’s permission to open it, and slowly he made to draw back the cover.
Swiftly, a gust of wind blew through the window, storming past Bill, ruffling his hair and the book’s pages as it danced through the room. In its wake, it rustled the glitter that now lay scattered about on Bill’s floor, collecting it up in a mini tornado, which had Bill completely enchanted. He lifted his head and watched as it swirled and swirled and turned and turned, his lips fixed in a small ‘o’ of wonder and amazement.
The pages of the book continued to shake even as the wind dropped and the glitter began to fall through the air, landing everywhere imaginable.
“Achoo!” Bill sneezed, coughing and smacking his lips together as the glitter decided to land on his mouth of all places. He jolted up to standing quickly, sneezing a second time, and began batting himself as clean as he found possible, but as he did the book fell from his grasp. A third sneeze worked its way out of Bill’s nose and Bill huffed, rubbing his face with his hands and kicking the book away from him, as if it would make the glitter disappear.
It didn’t seem as cool now that he couldn’t stop sneezing.
A rustling noise to his lower left made Bill look down at the floor. The book was open, its pages scrunching together. Bill’s brows furrowed and he sucked in a breath, and he bravely dared to crouch down and touch the first page.
And then all of a sudden, Bill couldn’t feel the floor anymore.
He yelped as his body seemed to raise itself from the ground, seemed to spin in circles and become enclosed by a golden blanket. He curled into himself, panicking breathlessly and on the verge of tears, confused and scared, but it seemed to end almost as quickly as it began.
Soon, Bill could feel the floor again. He sat forwards where he found himself on the floor, placing his hands flat against the ground, gripping and grasping for something solid as he rocked slightly in his place. He didn’t dare look around, instead choosing to keep his head down and his eyes trained on his feet.
“What?” he managed to rasp out, quickly forgetting the floor and beginning to cling to himself as he dared to look around cautiously for Beary. “Beary?” he whispered, nor daring to speak loudly, unaware of his surroundings. “Beary? Beary!” He was nowhere to be found.
“Who’s Beary?”
Bill’s head snapped up from where he was sat, his eyes wide and nearly bulging out from his face. In front of him was another person; another boy.
The boy was looking down at him, a friendly smile adorning his face. He was short, and looked about the same age as Bill. The boy quickly noticed Bill’s panic, and his smile faded a little. He bent down and offered a hand to Bill, who took it unsurely and pulled himself to his feet.
“Um,” he bumbled, “Beary is my teddy bear,” he said, his voice almost non-existent. “W-who are you?”
The boy’s smile returned, then, possibly even wider than before, and he straightened up proudly. “Hi,” he exclaimed, “I’m Tom!”