Lightworks

Lightworks
Characters/Pairings: Dave Wilson, Yvett Wilson. None.
Genre: General/Family (?)
Summary: Dad left some things on Dave's desk.

   "Da~ve," Yvett called as she walked around the house, looking left and right in attempt to find the elusive little boy. He was small, tinier than most of his peers, so he was often very good at hiding-- but right now Yvett was not in the mood for random hide and seek. Their mother and father had left for a seminar regarding effective methods of teaching; something Yvett wasn't that thrilled about, so she stayed home. Except she had expected some time alone. She nearly forgot about the little ball of slime that was her brother.

   Really, a first grader shouldn't be so hyperactive. Sometimes it was a wonder how he managed to get so much energy from the vegetables, but then she remembered that it was Saturday. Ted's parents had taken them out and they probably inhaled many, many glucose somewhere along the way. Yvett wondered why she didn't just usher him into staying over. She was sure Dave would have liked that more. Here, the only companies were the detachable figures in the study room, which he found creepy (as indicated by his shrilly scream when he found them), and the plants. He had a liking to bringing the smaller ones into his room, and there were many occasions when people came in while he was lovingly petting the leaves of a Weeping Fig just because he was told that weeping meant crying.

   Yvett was sure he was developing more conscience than anyone in this house. Perhaps he was there to bring change-- it couldn't be healthy to have an all-analytical mind family. They would be closed off to the world with their firm belief in numbers and evidence.

   But hugging a plant? Yvett took a picture for future purposes. Blackmail purposes. But now to find the boy himself... She climbed up the stairs to the boy's room, feet thumping against the wooden floor as she approached the door. No noise. If he wasn't in there, she might need to check on the greenhouse. He had grown a liking for them. Maybe the study room, too. Yvett didn't think Dave was masochistic enough to some back to the same place that held quite a scary thing, but it was worth a try.

   The door opened with a small creak, but the inside was dark. Strange. It was only seven--the boy had insisted in having eight pm bedtime and Yvett, finding no other options, had agreed. So why was he possibly huddling under his bed?

   "Dave?"

   "Shh." Yvett blinked. He didn't sound much scared as he was telling her to be quiet for some reason. She entered the darkened room, but much to her surprise, she saw light aimed at her feet. What exactly was he doing? Dave's face was only slightly illuminated by the flashlight, but it showed him enough for her to see the excitement.

   "What are you doing?" she asked him, kneeling beside her brother. He held up a prism proudly, a happy grin on his face. Yvett smiled a little-- probably Dad, then. Mom never bothered much with physics. Her area was Biology, much like her. Dave, well. He never showed any particular preferences.

   "Making pretty lights," Dave explained. "It was on my desk. Dad gave me pretty tubes, too. He said it was, uh, uh..."

   "Kaleidoscope?"

   "Yes," he affirmed brightly as he nodded, expression hopeful. He crawled out of the space he buried himself in, blankets entangled and getting dragged with him, and after freeing himself from the fluffy prison, he grabbed the kaleidoscope Dad left for him. He turned the lamps on before handing the tube at her. Yvett took it, just to entertain him, and looked through the tube. It seemed like Dad had put some simple, shiny, plastic beads in the other end. Humming, she gave it back to Dave, who had hopped onto his bed. His socks were starting to fall off as he kicked his legs back and forth. Yvett pulled them up.

   "Why do they make pretty light, Yvett?"

   "It's called the properties of light, Dave." She ran her fingers through his hair, and he playfully pushed his head at her. "In the kaleidoscope, there are mirrors that make a triangle. And in the other end, you put things like coloured plastic beads. So if you take a look, you see the beads, but the light bounces off the three mirrors."

   Dave's eyes were wide, and she knew he's not nearly old enough to understand her explanations, but just telling him would be enough. Dave pointed at the prism, still lying on the floor, and she knew he wanted an explanation of that.

   "Why does white light come out as rainbows?"

   "Because white light is made of rainbows." His eyes widened even more, mouth slightly open as he seemed to be shocked by the explanation. He jumped off the bed to crouch by the prism, looking at it like it was an anomaly, making Yvett chuckle. At least that explanation seemed to have gotten through his head. Maybe that way he would have curiosity burning through his veins, encouraging him to keep asking questions and getting the answers. Dave waved his hands behind the prism, as if trying to figure it out, which she found encouraging.

   "You will learn about it in, hmm, fourth grade. Not much about the kaleidoscope, though, which has the pretty lights. Do you like them?"

   "Fourth grade?" Dave whined. "That's like, forever." He pouted, making Yvett snort and ruffle his hair.

   "It's only three years. Surely you can handle three years?" she teased. "But yes, you will learn about them soon. Do you like them? Maybe you can ask Dad on Sunday." Dave nodded vigorously, jumping onto his feet and climbing into his bed. Yvett gathered the blankets from the floor, taking the prism and placing them on the desk. Then she tucked her brother in, pleased to see that it was still seven fifty. Not past his bedtime, at least. Dave looked at her, wide eyed, kaleidoscope clutched in his hands.

   "Put it next to your pillow," she said. "You're doing to crush it if you keep holding on it." That prompted him to do as she said, and Yvett kissed his forehead before patting his blanket-covered stomach. She headed out, finger hovering over the switch.

   "Good night, Yvett," said Dave, voice timid and small, just like him. Yvett smiled fondly at the sight.

   "Good night, Dave."