Charles woke up to the sounds of work being done; voices chattering, a low sizzle dancing in the air, and laughter; lots and lots of laughter. He looked around his room and saw his door open and Isabella standing in his room with the baby playing with the hem of her dress. "Come on, breakfast will be ready in a bit," she told him with a sort of elegance which always graced her soft voice.
"What's for breakfast?" he asked drowsily, his eyes barely open.
"Oatmeal," she said, cradling the baby in her kind arms.
Isabella was a tall slender girl, no more than seventeen. She had long braided hair and a thin face with a pointed chin. Her skin was painted with few freckles and she wore a light purple nightgown that almost reached her dirty shoes.
"How did the baby sleep?" Charles asked as he sat up in bed.
"Didn't even know you brought her last night," Isabella told him before walking out, closing the door behind her.
Charles stretched his fat muscles, letting his bones ripple with a popping noise. He got up and slipped on his shoes before looking around his dark room; its cold, stone walls and floor were quite the opposite of how it felt at the moment; warm and refreshing. There were books scattered on a small desk with a lantern lit and two large shelves next to a wooden chair. He looked up at the copper pipes that ran through his ceiling, steam shooting out every few minutes. He walked out to a working room. All the young ones were doing something. Lily, Fred, and Skye were making the table. Henry and Olivia were cooking the oatmeal along with some of the little ones. Alexander was watching the little children, the ones who are eight or younger. The youngest of the little ones, besides Millie, was six and the oldest of the little ones were nine. There were about fifteen little ones.
There were only six children who were seventeen; Alexander, Isabella, Henry, Olivia, Sarah-Williams, and Hugo. The rest of them were little. Some of the children were practicing their pickpocketing skills. Some were playing with Alexander, who was a really buff boy. He had dark brown eyes, and a big build, his hair was curly and thin. He was like a younger Charles.
Charles walked over and sat at his little table. Skye came over with a quivering lip. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, picking her up and placing her on his lap.
"Fred ripped my doll's eye out," she whimpered, showing Charles a rag doll with one of the buttons for eyes missing.
"It was an accident," Fred pouted before he stopped setting the table
"No it wasn't," Skye said, nearly yelling.
"Was to!" Fred shouted.
"Calm down, calm down," Charles hushed the both of them.
He waited until both were silent. "I'll have Hugo fix it, ok?" Charles told Skye.
She nodded.
"Fred, say you're sorry," Charles told him.
"I'm sorry," he murmured.
"Good, now go find Hugo. He can fix your doll," Charles told Skye, letting her hop off his lap and run to find Hugo.
He got up and walked over to Thomas and Edward's room. He knocked on the door, knock knock knock. No answer.
He opened the door and saw the two sprawled all over each other and shirtless, which wasn't surprising, and deep under their sheets. Their room was just like his, except messier with many papers and trinkets that Edward and Hugo work on. A large work desk was in the back corner with the lamp still on. On the desk sat papers and gears. "Rise and shine!" Charles hollered with a big grin.
Edward groaned and looked up at Charles. "What's the bloody time?" he asked as he looked around, his hair a wild mess like grease slathered it into a wild bush of wires.
"The kids are makin' breakfast time," Charles told him.
Edward really woke up and flung the sheets off of himself. He sat on the side of the bed and reached for his mechanical leg, swiftly connecting it to his stump. Charles caught a glimpse of Edward's scar and looked away. It was Ben's fault, he thought.
Edward got up, nearly tripping as he rushed out the room. "I need to make sure they don't break my stuff," Edward said as he wobbled out of the room, putting his shirt on.
Charles was left with Thomas. "Come on, we got work to do," Charles said, pulling the sheets off of Thomas.
Thomas hissed when the cold air nipped his skin. "Five more minutes," he whimpered with his words oozing from his grumbling voice.
Charles rolled his eyes. "If you don't get up, I'm takin' your fags and tossin' them in the canal," Charles threatened.
Thomas didn't move.
Charles walked over and grabbed the pack of cigarettes and was about to leave before he heard the bed creak behind him. He turned and saw Thomas standing with an annoyed look, rubbing his eyes with a slouch in his back. Charles tossed him the cigarettes before leaving, a small snicker echoing as he left.
Charles saw Edward limping to the kitchen to make sure the little ones helping in the kitchen don't burn it down. He walked over to his favorite spot, a small rocking chair they all built him for his birthday. It had fluffed cushions and a night stand next to it. He walked over and sunk into it, letting the fluffy cushions gently lay him down. He looked at the night stand and saw one of his many books, Night's Terror. He picked it up and began reading, diving into a world unlike this one.
"What are you reading?" asked a child's voice.
Charles moved his attention from his book to a Lily, "I'm reading Night's Terror," he said.
"Can you read it to us?" Lily asked, gathering some of the other kids.
Charles sighed.
"Please!"
"Alright, gather 'round, gather 'round," Charles called, having them sit around him. "It all starts with a little girl in a violet, silk dress and the night's dark secrets. . ."
Thomas put on a shirt and walked out to a bustling room; kids ran around Olivia while they tried taking a little brown sack from her, the older ones set the table, and he could hear Edward in the kitchen with the kettle whistling like it saw a bloody murder. He walked over to his table, where they played cards. He looked around feeling satisfied with what Charles, Edward, and him had built. He loved their family. He caught sight of Charles reading to some of the little ones who sat around with their gazes glued on him. He saw another group training with Olivia. He could smell something good cooking in the kitchen. He saw Hugo sitting with Henry laughing as he fixed Skye's doll. Some kids ran past him, playing a little game. He snatched one of them and started tickling them. "Who is this?" Thomas chuckled.
"It's me, Ollie," giggled the little seven year old trying to break free from Thomas' grip.
"Who? Ollie? I thought you were a little pickpocket," Thomas said, tickling Ollie some more.
"I am," Ollie giggled, squirming harshly as he laughed harder.
This made Thomas chuckle a little. He then released Ollie from his grip. ��Go play," Thomas laughed cheerfully.
Ollie playfully punched Thomas' arm before he ran off laughing as he caught up with his brothers and sisters.
Thomas pulled out his match and cigarettes. Right as he was about to light it, Edward came and snatched it from his hands. "Not this early in the mornin'," he told Thomas, taking a big pot to the large table.
"I'm twenty five, so I can do what I want," Thomas muttered.
"And I'm makin' breakfast, so who wins?" Edward asked with a chuckle as he poured oatmeal into the bowls.
Thomas rolled his eyes.
"Breakfast!" Edward called, his voice ringing through the room like church bells in the morning.
All the little ones came running to a seat before they devoured their oatmeal. The older ones sat and talked while they ate. Chatter ran rampant through the room as they ate. Charles was about to take a bite when something hot splattered on his shoulder. He brushed his hand over the mushy stuff soaking his clothes. Oatmeal. He turned around at all the little ones who devoured their food in between yaps of who's the best pickpocket. "Who did this?" Charles asked with a booming voice.
Everyone fell silent and no one answered.
Charles flung all of the sticky food off himself and went back to eating, grumbling a few curse words.
Edward almost lost it, biting his lip to hold down his laughter. He grabbed a bowl and filled it, walking away to give it to Jacob.
Thomas didn't care and started laughing to his heart's content. "Shut your bloody trap!" Charles shouted at Thomas.
"Alright, alright, I will," Thomas chuckled.
Edward walked over and sat the edge of Jacob's bed, nudging him to wake up. Jacob looked up with a weak smile and messy hair glossy with sweat. He was extremely pal and his eyes were blistering red. Edward wanted to look away, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. "Mornin'. How'd you sleep last night?" he asked, the tone of a mother flowed out of him, soothing to Jacob.
"It was hard to sleep," Jacob murmured.
Edward sighed. "It could be worse. You could be sleepin' with Thomas. That boy just throws himself all over the place," he said with a chuckle, trying to make anything but a frown rise on Jacob's face.
A frail smile grew slightly but it quickly faded. "I made your favorite, oatmeal with a little bit of cinnamon," Edward told him as he scooped a spoon full of oatmeal.
"Yay," Jacob whispered with a small cough.
Edward started feeding Jacob a little bit of food at a time. Jacob sat up and ate a little, then a little more; soon the whole bowl was gone. "I'm gunna go get your medicine," Edward told him before he got up.
"Edward?" called the little boy's voice.
"Yes?" he asked, turning to face Jacob.
"Can I go outside today?"
Edward was hesitant to say a thing and in that small time a frown formed. "Maybe tomorrow," he said, forcing a sad smile.
It broke his heart to tell him no, but he didn't want Jacob to be worse with how bad the air was up above. He walked out of the room and limped to the cabinets, his face gloomy as the smoky air above ground. He was lost in thought as he went to get the medicine, all of the thoughts dark. He stumbled and needed to lean on the counter for support. Thomas jumped up and darted over to Edward. "Are you ok?" he whispered.
"I-I'm f-f-fine," he stuttered, his voice quivering.
"What's wrong?" Thomas asked, putting his hand on Edward's.
"Nothin'. I'm just lookin' for Jacob's medicine," he replied, moving his hands swiftly through the cabinets.
Thomas glanced behind him, everyone was staring at them. He turned back and rubbed Edward's back. "It's gunna to be alright," he whispered.
Edward stepped away from him, a spoon and a bottle of medicine in his hands. He limped away and closed the door to the children's room behind him; his eyes barely holding back an ocean of tears. He stumbled over to Jacob's bed and woke him from his sleep. "Come on, you need to take your medicine," he whispered.
"But I don't like that stuff. It's yucky," Jacob grumbled softly.
Edward couldn't help but chuckle, wiping his tears with the back of his hand. "I know it is, but you gotta take it," Edward told him, a sad smile on his face.
"Ok," Jacob murmured.
Edward poured the last of the medicine, barely a spoonful of medicine, and gave it to Jacob, who scrunched his face at the bitter taste. "I know it's icky, but it'll make you feel better," he said.
Jacob nodded, his eyes flickering before drifting to sleep.
Edward sat there looking at Jacob, recalling old memories that once had a sweetness in their sights.
I was holding Jacob on my lap. This was about three years ago and Jacob was only five. Jacob wasn't sick either. He was just a happy little boy. I would read to him. Back then, there were only seven kids at the time, counting him. Those seem like simpler times now. I miss those times. Jacob was so happy, we all were. Thomas and Charles would come home and eat with us like a proper family. We'd all stay up and have fun.
I remember when I'd tell Jacob all kinds of stories just to get him to sleep. He'd always be askin' for more stories. Now he can't stay up for one.
Edward wiped the tears from his eyes.
He heard a squeaking sound. He glanced down and saw a rat gnawing on his metal leg. A flood of anger filled him and he kicked it against the wall, watching it scurry to safety under one of the beds.
He sat on a table, drowsy from blood loss with Thomas sitting nearby with his head down; asleep. Edward glanced down at himself and saw a stump where his leg should have been and screamed.
Edward walked out of the room. He walked back to his seat next to Charles and Thomas. "You ok?" Charles asked, his voice sensitive to his friend like a worried father.
"Yeah, fine," Edward replied softly.
"You sure?" Thomas asked, putting his hand on Edward's hand.
"Yes Thomas, I'm fine," Edward replied with a saddened smile.
"How is Jacob?" Charles asked, scraping the last bits of oatmeal in his bowl.
"He's sleepin' right now," Edward replied, eating his cold oatmeal.
Thomas leaned back in his chair and stared at Edward, contemplating whether to push for some more answers. He sighed and leaned on the table. "What's the plan for today?" Thomas asked.
"You two will be goin' to get me some cookin' supplies. I'll make a list right now," Edward told them, grabbing a pen and paper. "Isabella will be taking care of the baby and Jacob. I'll have her get the kids to do their chores later. Sarah-Williams and Henry will take Lily, Fred, and Skye pickpocketing in the marketplace. Olivia will watch the rest of the kids with Isabella and I'll have her teach those kids some more tricks. Alexander and Hugo are comin' with me to go get some more medicine from the doctor an' to meet Big Ben at the tavern."
Thomas leaned forward in his char. "I thought we all promised we wouldn't go see him again?" he asked with a hesitant voice.
"We need his help," Edward said.
"But you know how he is. You know the things he's done. We've all seen it. He's a monster, a fuckin' monster," Charles said like a growling animal with a sudden fiery burst of anger.
Edward shook his head. "He helped us. Don't forget where we started," he scowled.
"He's still a monster."
"He was there when no one else was!"
Their words swelled into shouts and Thomas sait silent, listening, biting his tongue and clenching his fists. "Let's just think for a second," he said with words on the verge of a combustion of anger. "We obviously need medicine for Jacob and no way to get money for them. And, we are in deep trouble with the law again. Maybe we should consider it at least."
They all fell silent for a second. "How long has it been since last time we talked to him?" Charles asked as he rubbed his face.
"Four years," Edward replied.
Charles leaned back in his chair. "Fine. Do what you want," he sighed bitterly, taking his bowl to the sink for someone to wash.
Edward quickly wrote down the last of the things he needed before handing the list to Charles. "Why didn't you give it to me?" Thomas asked, putting on a pouty face.
"Last time I gave it to you, you lost it before you even got to the marketplace," Edward said with a playful smile, as if his anger had been flooded away as quickly as it came.
Thomas chuckled. "That was one time."
"Really? I remember ten times," Charles hollered as he passed them.
"Yeah sure, ya wanker," Thomas said with a silver smirk.
He stood from where he sat stretching his limbs while looking up at the orange lanterns hanging from teh ceiling, little stars in their own universe. He walked away from their table to get changed into his "fancy clothes", as he called them. Charles did the same, closing the door behind him. Edward turned to everyone else in the room. "Now then, let's get the rest of you to work," Edward said with a soft smile.
Thomas closed the door behind him before he started changing into some nice dark brown slacks. He put on a white button up and dark yellow vest after. He then grabbed his brown coat that went down to his shoes.
Edward walked in with a petite smile on his face. "Hey there, aren't you dressed nice," he said as he walked over to his side of the bed to sit down.
"Are the kids workin'?" Thomas asked as he looked around for his brown top hat.
"Yup. Everyone is gettin' ready or workin'," Edward replied as he reached under the bed to pull a suitcase.
He undid the latches and opened it to reveal neatly folded clothes. He started changing into his clothes, starting with taking off his shirt. He looked for his white, long sleeve button up but couldn't find it at first.
Thomas kept sneaking glances at Edward. He was amazed by how beautiful Edward's body was. His skin pale and smooth, except for the interruption on his ribs. His abs were barely defined but definitely there. He loved the scrawny boy. But his eyes still moved back to that scar. Guilt found its way back into his heart and darkened it with regret. It became a swollen, black rock in his stomach, poking his insides with its spikes.
"Keep peekin' and I'll have to charge you," Edward teased as he buttoned his shirt up.
Thomas blushed and kept looking for his top hat. He found it, a large dark brown top hat with goggles on the brim of it. He placed it neatly on his head before reaching into his coat pocket and pulled out a monocle. He turned and smiled childishly at Edward, acting smug and rich. "What do you think?" he asked, a flare of charisma in his words that rose has high as the tallest mountain.
Edward smiled as he put on his tan waistcoat. "I'm gunna tell you what I've told you for the past two years. You look gorgeous," Edward smiled, walking over to Thomas.
Thomas slowly moved his hand around Edward's waist. Edward put his hands on Thomas' sides, smiling."So how much was peakin' again, 'cause I'd like to upgrade to something more. . . hands one," Thomas chuckled.
Edward laughed. "You horny bastard."
"I'm just askin'."
Their lips met lightly before deepening into an all too familiar passionate kiss. Thomas ran his hands up Edward's back and up to his soft hair. Edward moved his hands to Thomas' chest, not feeling anything but layers of clothing. Edward pulled away and smiled, knowing Thomas hated when he pulled away. "I got to get ready for today," he said.
Thomas frowned, but reluctantly let go of Edward. Edward threw on a dirty brown vest with a neat design. He grabbed his brown bowler hat from his nightstand and his pocket watch painted gold and showing all the gears under the two arms. He neatly placed a shoulder strap on his arm. "A bit of help please?" he asked, trying to connect the strap.
Thomas walked over and connected the strap with a nice click before stepping back to look at Edward, who was rolling up his white sleeves until they were past his elbow. "How do I look?" Edward asked.
"Like a true commoner."
Edward smiled before walking out.
His children were playing or working. Alexander and Hugo waited on the table, having a chat. Alexander wore a white button up under a grey coat and dark grey flat cap. His eyes covered by his shiny grey shaded goggles that went along with his black gloves.
Hugo was tall and scrawny like Edward; his skin darker than most people in London, an immigrant from Mexico. He had long black hair that runs down past his shoulders and a chisel of black hair on his chin. A few of his fingers were replaced with copper ones. He wore black overalls with different hostlers for different tools he had and a white button up under. His goggles were specialized with extra lenses that can be added to zoom in on an object.
"Are you two ready?" Edward asked, his expression changing from the light hearted motherly figure he is to a cold man.
Hugo grinned, his metal teeth glimmering under the orange lantern light. Alexander nodded, downing his cup of water.
"Well, we got some bloody work to do," Edward said.
They moved to a cluttered room they called the storage room. In it were a few chests and racks that held guns. Edward grabbed himself a bronze pistol. He then tossed Alexander a rifle and Hugo two pistols. The three walked out of the room and into the tunnels without another word.
Their footsteps rang in the echoey off the moist walls of the tunnels. It was a sound like soldiers walking off to apprehend a criminal. The faint glow from the lantern in Edward's hand were dimly lit; the shadows painting an ominous portrait on their stone cold faces; no emotion gave way as they marched towards the city with their guns shining malevolently in the orange light.They were almost like villains of myth, which to some they were.
Edward glanced back and saw Charles and Thomas not far behind in their fancy clothes. Charles wore the same thing as Thomas and Edward caught a glimpse of a shine dancing from his hidden knives.
They walked out into the bitter cold air and up the wooden steps to the main streets. The streets were bustling and people moved past one another, bumping into each other without a thought for them. It was mostly women with a few old men wandering about, warning of the end of London. That was where Edward separated from Charles and Thomas. Edward and the other two waited before Sarah-William and Henry walked out with the little trio of kids. Sarah-Williams nodded with a cocky smirk before walking off the same way Thomas and Charles went, towards the marketplace.
Edward, Hugo, and Alexander went the opposite way. "So are we headin' to see Big Ben first?" Alexander asked, his voice deep and intimidating.
"Yup," Edward replied.
The three walked through the cobblestone streets, pushing past ladies in fancy clothes like silk dresses and luxurious bodices, the rich area of London is where they walked at the moment. Many ladies wore colors like dark browns and tame yellows. Some had jewelry with gears or some sort of metal; much of it scraps from the factories their husbands owned or worked at.
Most of the people didn't actually live in the rich part, just passing by to the market. Steam shot from different pipes on the nearby buildings they passed. Large copper hot air balloons flew overhead and bronze bridges connected buildings, letting people pass above everyone else. Edward and them walked with their heads low and their hands swaying by their sides. Their eyes darted under the protection of their metal goggles but, they weren't nervous, quite the opposite. They were ready, ready for what they might see at Big Ben's. As they walked through the crowded streets, people took notice of their menacing demeanor and tried to avoid them.
Hugo grinned at one lady, making shiver run down her spine that wasn't from the chilly breeze. He chuckled and continued walking next to Alexander. Alexander was tall and stood over many people, he looked down with an unfriendly expression, mean with a scrunched up face. Many only glanced at him, afraid of staring. They looked like mobsters, young mobsters.
The darkened skies above were covered in more hot air balloons, some carried common folk and others held weapons and large machines designed for destruction. One hot air balloon rang its loud bell and blew its brass horn, sending a sense of pride through all of the people, their heads hanging higher.
They soon started to see the city change as they pressed forward. The buildings became cracked and the awful smells of the dead and sick stuffed their noses. Many homeless women and children scurried the streets begging the few with money for it. People's clothes weren't as nice with dirt and holes in them. Some wore similar things to Edward, Alexander, and Hugo. Many of the few men holding the same mean expressions they did. Those few men sat with their heads down or angry looks, all for the same reason. The factories; the places that once paid them until cheaper labor came and many other men went to fight.
The trio walked what was called The Slums. A filthy place where the majority lived in poverty.
Edward looked up at the sky. It was grey, not a storm grey, but a dirty grey that ash creates. The grey of smoke from the nearby factories that pumped out iron goods and weapons for the war. His memory krept from the darkness he kept it as he walked through the poor streets of London.
Edward stood near a furnace, surrounded by piles of black coal. The furnaces burnt hot and was the only source of light in the unwelcoming, metal room. The air was stuffy to the point it became hard to breath, and the kids baked like burnt cookies in the metal room with the fires roaring with life. He looked around at kids coughing their lungs out as they shoveled more coal into the nearby furnaces that helped the factory run. Their faces were covered by black dust which clung to their sweaty skin, uscking the moisture from it.
He took a look and saw two dirty men shouting at them to hurry up, threatening to use the kids as fuel instead of the coal. "If ya stop, ya go in the furnace like all the other kids who stopped!" shouted the scrawny man.
Edward scooped up a few lumps of coal and took it to the furnace, tossing it into it. A small flame shot from it, nearly hitting him. He jumped back in terror, afraid of being burned, and fell to the ground. He looked up and saw one of the men walking through the coal towards him.
He quickly got up and started shoveling coal faster. "I-I'm sorry, sir. It scared me," Edward tried to explain.
"No excuses. Get back to work or I'll burn ya myself," he scowled, hitting Edward in the back of the head.
He shivered and kept walking until they reached a run down tavern. They came to a stop in front of it, a wooden building with broken windows that were meant to keep the light out. The open door was the only light in and from outside the door they saw tables scattered around and people sleeping off last night's hangover.
"Why does it always reek of crap in there?" Alexander muttered, the nasty smell nipping his nostrils.
"Too many drunks," Hugo grumbled as he fiddled with some of his equipment.
"Well, we got a bloody job to do," Edward sighed.
"Why can't we go get the medicine first?" Alexander asked.
"Got no money," Edward replied as he was about to walk in.
Hugo grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. "What do you mean no money?" Hugo asked.
"Sarah-Williams and Henry are goin' pickpocketin' and no one else has been since god knows when," Edward replied.
"Then why have we been sittin' around doin' nothin' for the past few weeks?" Alexander exclaimed in outrage.
"I don't know if you remember, but there is a war across the pond. Not many people have money to be takin' or to use for buyin' luxurious items like the stuff we steal. Most of the bloody men have been forced to fight. Business is slow, so we must get some money from Big Ben. As much as I don't bloody like it, Jacob needs this medicine, so we need this damned money," Edward told him, a whirlpool of frustration swirling up from his angered tongue.
The awful smells and pitiful look of people didn't help Edward's mood. "Sorry, I was just askin'," Alexander murmured, a shame flooding his voice and face.
"Anythin' from you?" Edward asked Hugo.
Hugo shook his head. "No, ready to head in when you are," he said calmly.
Edward straightened his hat. "Come on you two," he murmured before heading into the belly of the drunken beast with his two companions not far behind.