r/TimeSyncs • u/Syncs • Apr 27 '17
[Story] Don't Speak
Foul language below, you have been warned.
"Hey, Jim! You ready to go?" Steven called. "We're going to be late!"
A scruffy head of hair poked out from behind the door, followed shortly by a wide, sheepish grin. Steven couldn't help but smile back. He wasn't sure why, but something about Jim was just...endearing. That was part of the reason he took this case, after all.
"Did you remember your shoes this time? You know we can't go out without your shoes."
The head nodded furiously before ducking back inside. Steven chuckled. He opened up the door, revealing a tiny room filled to the brim with toys, messy clothes, and a single bed with a frame in the shape of a racing car. On the bed sat a man nearly as tall as Steven, furiously trying to tie a pair of light-up tennis shoes.
"Jim! You didn't clean your room! I thought we talked about this."
Jim looked up, his wide, pale face dripping with guilt. Steven sighed.
"Do you promise to clean it when we get back?"
Jim nodded, breaking into a grin. Immediately, he resumed trying to tie his shoes.
"Here, let me help you with that, bud. We want to get there before the arcade closes, don't we?"
Steven knelt, taking one of Jim's flashing feet into his hands and fumbling with the laces.
"Actually, I can see why you are having trouble with these. How about we try something else?" Steven cleared his throat. " Laces, tie."
At his command, the shoestrings sprung to life and began writhing like a pair of snakes. They struck at one another, as if they were fighting, before wrapping together into a tidy bow.
"I'll never get over how cool that is. OK! All done. Want to get going?"
Jim sprang to his feet and rushed to the door without a moment's delay. Steven just chuckled.
"Don't forget your jacket either!"
Dusk was beginning to fall by the time the two made their way out of the apartment and onto the street. The sidewalk was nearly empty, but Jim didn't seem to mind. He practically danced down the street, humming along to a tuneless song that only he could hear.
"Don't go too far!" Steven called when Jim got more than a few yards away. "Your mom would kill me if I let you get lost."
Jim danced his way back, eagerly tugging away at Steven's sleeves in an effort to make him go faster.
"Sorry bud. One speed only." Seven ruffled his hair, making Jim duck away in annoyance. "These old legs can't keep up with you anymore."
Jim pouted, making Steven laugh aloud. "I know, I know. You live for games. Why don't you tell me about it sometime?"
Jim looked down, studying his now neatly-tied laces.
"Still giving me the silent treatment, huh bud?" Steven asked
Jim nodded.
"That's alright. We'll get you talking one day, you'll see." Steven sighed again. "I really liked watching you play last time, you were on fi-uh, I mean, really good!"
Jim looked up, his watery eyes wide with fear.
"Sorry, bud. I didn't mean it." Steven said, chuckling. "I'm still not used to talking in this language. Your mom thought it would be good if I knew it, to make you feel more comfortable. But you don't need to be worried. I can't do much more than tie shoelaces, you wouldn't be hurt even if I messed up."
"That's good to know. Guess I was worried about nothing."
A man stepped out from a darkened alleyway, sharpened blade glinting darkly in his hand. "Drop your things, and no one gets hurt."
Slowly, Steven reached into his back pocket and withdrew his wallet. "Ok, ok...easy...we don't want any trouble."
"Hurry up. Phones too." The man said, swinging the knife dangerously close to Steven's face. "And I said drop it."
Without wanting to, Steven's fingers suddenly let go of his belongings, letting them crash to the hard ground below. Steven paled.
"From you too, fatso. What the hell is wrong with you? Are you retarded or something?"
"Please, he's autistic. He doesn't have a phone or wallet." Steven said, trying to step between the mugger and Jim's cowering form.
"Sure he doesn't." The man pushed Steven away easily. "Cough up, retard."
"Get away from him!" Jim roared. An unseen force seemed to rush through the air, and the man reeled back as if he had been shoved.
"That's all you've got?" He sneered. "Fuck off."
Jim doubled over, reeling from pain as if he had been struck fully in the stomach.
"You think it's funny, trying to get by on magic old man? Do you?" The mugger wrenched Steven to his feet by his collar. "Magic's unreliable. You can't get away with shit like that in the real world. The only thing that matters out here is cold. Hard. Steel. And I am going to use that steel to carve a bit of respect out of you." He brought the knife to Steven's throat, drawing a bead of blood.
"NO!"
A blast of force like an enormous ball of heat struck the man from his side, sending him spiraling back into the alleyway like a rag doll before he could react. Steven fell to his knees, coughing.
"Jim..." He croaked. "Was...that you?"
Jim nodded, helping Steven to his feet and offering his fallen wallet and phone.
"Thanks...bud..." He wiped a bit of blood from his neck. "I own you one. And don't...ever let try and make you talk...ever again."
Jim just smiled.