Chapter Text
Synchronized voices echoed through the old church as the priest stood before the casket, leading a prayer. Azure sat in the front pew next to his mother, clutching her hand with his eyes shut. She cried, gripping a rosary in her other hand so tightly her hand turned white.
The voices were dissolved into incoherent noise inside Azure’s head. The effort was futile; his grandfather was dead. No prayer could bring him back. His mother knew that very well, yet it seemed as if she still hoped there was some part of the Spawn that would have mercy, that would grant her a miracle just this once.
He was quiet during the sermon, quiet when they closed the casket, and quiet when his mom desperately grasped at his casket, begging them not to lower her dad into the ground, effectively sealing him away from her forever.
He tossed one of his favorite flowers into his grandfather’s open grave, and later stood in silence while the others shoveled soil back into the burial plot. Some were familiar faces, others he hadn’t met, but they all wore the same solemn expression. His breath trembled when he watched the purple flower fall into the grave, shaken by the memories that came flooding back once it escaped his grasp.
He was 4 when his grandfather showed him the world of botany. He was a botanist himself, had been for the majority of his life. Every so often Azure would get to visit him, and he’d take a seat right next to him on his old maroon colored couch, excited to see him again.
Azure’s favorite part of the week was being picked up by his grandfather. Every Friday he’d wait restlessly to see him, his day brightening when he heard the familiar sound of his old pickup truck entering the driveway. He’d take him on long drives, teaching him everything he knew.
Memories swirled in his mind as he stared down at the petals, a knot forming in his throat. His fingers dug into the skin of his hands, his jaw painfully clenched. He struggled to keep his composure, his body deciding for him that he had to get away from the crowd. There weren’t any words that could be of comfort, not to him. What can they say that hasn’t already been said a thousand times over?
Azure’s grandpa had been sick for a very long time, and the possibility of his death wasn’t lost on him and his mother Rosalie, but nobody liked to think about that reality. Throughout his life he rarely ever knew the extent of his health issues, which is why it struck him so hard when he heard Rosalie’s anguished shriek resound through the home.
He ran to find his mother collapsed on the floor, in a state he hadn’t ever seen her in. Tears poured from her eyes as she looked towards Azure. Her sobs prevented her from explaining the situation, but she didn’t have to. That one look told them everything they needed to know.
Azure didn’t say anything then, and he couldn’t bring himself to say anything now. He didn’t cry, he didn’t scream, he didn’t react the way everyone else did. Ever since that day he had been on autopilot, lost in the depths of his mind.
After his grandfather had been laid to rest, people at the funeral surrounded Rosalie, attempting to comfort her. Her eyes were puffy and her face was wet with tears; she could barely handle watching the burial.
Azure stood alone as they consoled her. Nobody came to check up on him. He knew they wouldn’t, but it still hurt.
Azure dragged his feet to the ragged old pews away from all the bustle of the funeral, pews of vintage oak seats cracked and splintering at the corners. The boy hopped onto the far most seat from the casket and surrounding crowd, feeling the mature wood creak and strain below him before he pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his knees. Quiet, observing.
He watched the mourning unfold, family friends and neighbors alike holding his mother and tugging her into their arms to let out every last tear that she held. They let her cry into their arms as they repeated the same old comforting words he’d heard over and over that entire service.
“You’ll be okay,” they told her.
“The Spawn will watch over you.”
A dull ache was placed in his heart the moment he saw his grandfather, and it grew after each passing moment. His face finds its way into his hands as he tries to think of something else, anything other than this. His effort was in vain, however, as every thought he had led them right back to that fateful day.
The people at the funeral were all preoccupied with themselves, telling each other that things would be okay, that the Spawn will guide his soul back home. None of them stopped to consider the child who’d just lost a person he loved dearly. On any other occasion he wouldn’t be surprised at the indifference towards him, but today it stung. He felt an indescribable urge for his mother specifically, an urge he hasn’t felt in years as he forced himself to push it back. He knew she’d be no help, but he still yearned for her comfort.
Just this once.
His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the pew squeaking next to him.
“Why are you sitting here by yourself?” a familiar voice asks.
Azure sits up to look at the man beside him. He knew who the voice belonged to as he was a family friend, but they didn’t converse often. Azure couldn’t even remember his name.
He wore all black like everyone else, but his face was visibly different from the others. It was sharp, his cheekbones made even more visible by the contrast of his ghostly white skin. His eyes were a piercing black color, and he had long, black hair that he kept neatly tied back at all times. Azure hadn’t ever seen him looking untidy. It was almost uncanny to the boy. He didn’t know why, but it always stirred a subtle fear in his gut, almost unnoticeable, but it was there. That’s why Azure stayed cooped up in his room whenever Rosalie had him over. She didn’t understand his feeling and brushed him off, telling the child that he was being rude.
But no matter what he did, that feeling was always there. It entered his body at the first step of the man's shoe into their home, and left at the sound of the door shutting behind him.
Azure fidgeted with his hands and avoided eye contact with the man, mumbling something that could barely be heard while shrugging. The man didn’t say anything about this, choosing to smile at him instead.
“You remember me, right?” the man asks. Azure looks at him for a second, wearing a guilty expression. He laughs in response and says, “My name is Amarah, your mother’s friend? I come around quite often.”
“You know,” he says, “I’ve never really had the chance to sit down and get to know you. I mean, you’re probably familiar with me, but you’re so quiet all the time.”
Azure grips the clothes on his knees in an attempt to hide his annoyance. It always annoyed him when people brought up how he was usually quiet. It’s just how he preferred to be.
“I don’t have anything to say, I guess,” he replies, attempting to fill the uncomfortable silence lingering in the air.
“Well, Rosalie has told me all about you. She’s told me about your interest in botany. She’s proud that you picked up your grandpa’s hobby. That could be a conversation starter, right?”
An exasperated expression forced its way onto Azure's face, despite his effort to hide it. “Sure,” he muttered, his voice laced with annoyance. It made him feel bad, he didn’t want to be rude to the only person willing to check up on him, and he wasn’t usually like this.
Maybe it was the stress of the funeral, or the recurring nightmares about the day his grandpa died, but all day he had been feeling awful. It wasn’t unexpected from anybody but he really didn’t enjoy how it made him feel.
He just needed a few hours to himself. He needed to get away from everyone and retreat to the comfort of his room and his music, forgetting the worries that constantly plagued his mind.
He’d be able to do it now even, if it weren’t for the man sitting next to him.
Amarah read the expression on Azure’s face, saying, “Well, if anything, I can tell crowds aren’t your thing. They aren’t mine, either, if that answers your question.”
Apparently he did pick up on it. The fact that he knew Azure was uncomfortable irked him, but he bit his tongue.
“All the people around your mom trying to comfort her come from a good place, but honestly, I don’t think that’s what she needs right now.” He pauses for a moment, watching Rosalie from a distance. “I think she needs space from all of it. I can’t imagine how she’s feeling…”
‘How she’s feeling’. The ache claws at his chest when he hears those words, until Amarah added, softly, “I can’t imagine how it is for you, either.”
The words force him to meet the others' gaze. It was a simple remark that took him by surprise–he wasn’t used to anyone acknowledging his feelings.
“When I was a kid, my grandparents had already passed away,” he explains, “so I never had to know the pain of such a loss. I'm very sorry, Azure. He was a good man and we mourn him deeply.”
He stares at Azure with eyes full of pity as he puts an arm around his shoulder. Azure tried so hard to keep everything in, to avoid causing an annoyance, but for some reason his throat ached, his eyes welled up with tears, and he was powerless to stop it.
He pulled the boy into a hug as he said, “You shouldn’t let this pain take a toll on you. He is more fortunate than we are. The Spawn has welcomed him home, where we all will go one day. You know this.”
The words scraped at his mind like nails on a chalkboard, but he only sinks into the embrace, as if his sorrow rooted him there. He desperately grasped onto Amarah’s shirt as he wept into it, tears dampening the fabric. He was silent, only cradling the boy in his arms and letting him cry. A smile fought its way onto the man’s face.
Azure didn’t know why he was acting this way, but he couldn’t control it either. He was fine just a few moments ago, why has he come apart like this now? For someone who triggers such a horrible feeling in his gut?
Teary eyed, he slightly raises his head from the man's chest to look towards the crowd in the distance. He focused on his mother, whose back was turned towards her child. He started to realize why he fell apart so suddenly.
At this moment he needed her, but she was too focused on everything else to realize her son had been gone for quite some time. He needed someone to hold him, and Amarah was conveniently there to be his rock.
Feeling defeated, he buried his head back into his arms and sobbed.