I'm Not That Mad

10

I love me some dream sequences! They're always just so much fun to write. Anyway, dragging Kanin into things is so funny

Ozzy opened his eyes, glancing around at his surroundings. He could recognize the small details of his childhood home, a little cottage that his family had lived in before they were forced to flee. He traced his hands along the frame of one of the displayed photos, a picture of his mother holding him close to her, he couldn't have been much older than 5 years old, with the Cheshire holding both of them, his soft gaze and loving smile directed at his wife rather than at the camera.

Ozzy smiled softly at the photo, picking it up gently and tracing a finger over the scene. A small click pulled him out of his thoughts and he turned his head to look at the source. His eyes caught a young boy, probably around 7 years old if Ozzy had to guess, who was standing his back pressed against the wall as he listened into his mother.

"Chess, we can't," Ozzy heard his mother's voice say. It was a lot more muffled and murmured than what Ozzy remembered, though, then again, how much did he actually remember of his mother's voice? He hadn't heard it in years. "It's too dangerous to risk."

Ozzy in the memory kept himself tucked away behind the corner, his ears straining to listen clearly to his mother and father. His tail was brought towards the front of his body, his hands carefully wringing the end of it around. He winced a little bit, knowing that the way his tail was twisting had to have been causing some sort of pain. It was a nasty habit, but a nervous one that he had been having since he was little. Ozzy was supposed to be fast sleep by now, and for the most part, he was asleep for the first couple of hours. His mom's voice waking him up.

"Dinah, it's better for our lives," The Cheshire said firmly, "I don't want our son living like this. Living in fear for his life every day. It's not right."

Ozzy, the older one, stepped out from around the corner, tilting his head at his parents. They hardly ever argued, though near the time that they ran it seemed that their arguments seemed to spike. Though, Ozzy was grateful that a majority of these arguments happened when he was long past asleep. 

"I want what's best for him too," His mother snapped as he moved over to the counter, "It's more risky for us to try to run. The Red Queen has kept this place closed up, you know what happens to people who run."

Glancing over his shoulder, he could see his younger self poking his head around the corner, his eyes big and locked on his parents, confusion glazing them. He knew why he was so confused, he never could wrap around why they had to run away when he was little. He was only a child, after all, no one expected him to understand every single gritty detail of why they had to run.

"I only want him safe," His father insisted, "I want him and you to be safe. You deserve so much better."

"Darling, I need nothing more than you and our son," His mother hummed, cupping her husband's face, "You both are what make me happy. You're all I need."

Ozzy smiled softly at his parents, the gentle touches, the love behind both of their eyes. He missed when his father was this happy. When there was so much love in his eyes for someone.

"Perhaps we should continue this discussion later," His father hummed, pressing a soft kiss to the palm of his mother's hand, "When our darling son is properly in bed."

With that, he looked over, seeing the smaller boy's head poking out from behind the wall again, looking rather startled at being addressed non-directly. 

"Ozias," His mother said, a playful sternness in her voice, "Come along dear, stop hiding."

The boy sheepishly stepped out from behind the wall, his ears drooping against his head and his tail being nervously twisted in his hands. As his mother approached him, the older Ozzy couldn't help but chuckle a bit. He's always been small for his age, and compared to his mother, he looked tiny. 

"Shouldn't you be resting, dear?" She asked, scooping him up in her arms and holding him to her waist, "It's late."

For a moment, Ozzy felt a pang of pain in his chest. Watching his mother holding his younger self in her arms. Being so gentle and loving. He shook his head, shoving away the feeling. There was no use feeling pain for the past. Not when it was years ago.

As Ozzy's father walked over to his wife and son, pressing gentle kisses to both of their foreheads, Ozzy turned away, no longer wishing to watch this bittersweet memory. His eyes wandered to the window, cracked open slightly. Ozzy was sure enough that his parents didn't know that it was open. They wouldn't have been talking so openly about running away if they knew.

Something he had to learn at a young age was that no matter how secluded his family lived, no matter how deep in the woods they remained, as long as the Red Queen was on the throne, it was never safe to speak so openly.

Ozzy walked over to the window, as if he meant to close it, and turned back to his parents, watching the memory carefully. His father was hugging both of them before he gave his wife a final kiss and then kissed the younger Ozzy's head once again as his mother carried him out of the room and to bed.

The silence stretched for a bit longer as he watched his father shuffle around the kitchen, cleaning the room, wiping down the counter almost mindlessly. Ozzy tilted his head, a bit confused. This was a common dream that he'd have countless times before, whenever he missed his parents. It never went on much longer after his mother carried his younger self off to bed.

Suddenly, a noise pierced through the comfortable silence. Normally, this wouldn't be too alarming, they do live in the woods after all. It could easily be brushed off by just being a wild animal. 

But this late at night? No. No, nothing was awake this late in the evening.

And certainly not a noise like a twig snapping under someone's foot.

Ozzy could see the way his father's ears had perked up, twitching slightly as his head snapped over to the window. He had a feeling that his own ears were doing the same thing, and Ozzy turned towards the window just as his father got there. It was too dark out there to properly see anything, but he what he could see, something that his father absolutely missed as he approached, was the flash of someone running away from that window. 

The flash of white hair before it was out of sight.