Answering a promise I'd made some many months ago, yes, I have returned. Cheers to DeadlyDaisy, for without her moving me in a message, I wouldn't have been prompted to write out an actual plot for this story of mine. And hugs and admiration to pearl84, who gave me some stellar tips on how to improve my writing style.

Thank you!

There was an enormous, black fountain bubbling in the courtyard. He could see an enormous chandlier with tear-shaped diamonds twinkling from a nearby window-and another from the second floor.

The Masters' estate looked like one of the castles in the storybooks that Marsha sometimes read to Danny at bedtime, regardless of whether or not the boy paid attention. But he was fairly certain that Rapunzel's tower, while in a pretty forest and covered with flowery vines and made from sparkling stones, hadn't been nearly this elaborate. Surely no one lived here, in this enormous place!

Danny fidgeted, face paling slightly in the cool, early afternoon air, and feeling the man's gaze slowly turn to him again. Now even more nervous, Danny started to admire his gleaming, beautifully squeaking boots once again.

"Everything alright, Daniel?"

Vlad sounded concerned; Danny nodded quickly, paused, slowly shook his head, and then nodded once again, emphatically.

"No. I-I mean, yes. I, um...d'you really live in...there?" He extended a finger towards the house as if it had been guilty of causing him some wrongdoing.

Mr. Masters slowly raised an eyebrow, and then, a small smile curled his features as his gloved hand started to rummage in his trenchcoat pocket, other arm still carefully holding Danny and his tiny umbrella at his level.

"Yes, child, I do. It isn't much, but ever it be so humble..." with a flourish, the man smiled, momentairly with an expression akin to that of a well-fed cat. Danny stared at him, bewildered.

Humble? Perhaps 'humble' like Dash or Paulina were at the Children's Home. If this place could talk, it probably wouldn't even bother to, at least not to someone small and insignificant like you.

The large, onyx gates the two were standing in front of were connected around the sullen and lovely building by a large, iron-clasped fence that circled quite a large circle around the space, keen to make as much space as possible from the house and its dimwitted visitor. The fence was enormous, looking grim and cross with their pointy...sticking up things all around the top of the fence. It rather reminded him of a picture he'd seen from a storybook called The Selfish Giant, about a mean man who kept his fruit garden locked up tight so that small children wouldn't play inside.

All the while Danny had been pondering, Vlad had been talking.

"I suppose Miss Marsha won't mind if you're detained another few minutes or so, Daniel? You're soaked to the bone, and we must get something for that scrape of yours..."

He sounded hesitant; uncertain. Danny turned around absentmindedly, not quite having heard what the man said.

"Mmm? Um, no?"

There was that smile again on Vlad's face, but Danny had turned his attention back to the dark, elegant spire from one of the towers. Out of the corner of his eye, he faintly noticed Vlad drawing out a little square box out of his pocket, and pressed a large blue square on it.

Crrreeeeaaaakkkk.

The gates slowly began to open, sounding as miserable as if they'd been awakened from a nice sleep. Once they'd fully opened, Vlad slowly walked inside yard, and Danny realized for the first time that they were heading inside. Danny held his umbrella a little higher, puzzled. Mr. Masters had said that he was only going to get his phone to call Marsha...which, seemed a little peculiar to the boy, considering Briar's End was just half a block away...

But he supposed he was in trouble enough as it was. He'd probably be sent to bed without dinner again for wandering off, even though Marsha had never told him to come back when he was playing in the yard. And it wasn't as though Vlad were a stranger...he'd known him for a few weeks, now.

...okay, perhaps they'd never spoken to each other prior to this day, but bygones. However, he still felt nervous approaching this place, which seemed ready to eat them both as Vlad slowly carried Danny up the stone steps, starting slightly as a bolt of lightning flashed over the building. Perfectly cliche.

But with a yelp, eyes dazzled, the boy hid his face in Vlad's neck at the deafening BOOOOOMMMMMM! that followed. Looking slightly alarmed, Vlad hesitantly drew a hand towards the small boy's back, then just as quickly withdrew it before the main door opened, and the man stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

A young man with chestnut hair, a small scar above his right eye, slightly sallow skin, and violet eyes courteously opened the door with a small nod as Vlad entered.

"Welcome back, sir! I must admit, I was rather surprised that you'd returned home quite so-well, hello, who's this then?"

Danny, still clinging to the dripping man like a tick, only withdrew deeper in the collar of the wet wool. Looking uncomfortable, Vlad only gave him the slightest of awkward pats on the back before kneeling, trying to pry the boy away as he kneeled.

"Andrei, this is-mrph!" (What was this child, part koala?) "Daniel. The boy had a little accident running in the street this morning; he's got a little cut on his knee. Would you mind calling Jane to come out and take a look at it?"

Andrei had been staring at the kid that was now peering at him from behind the Master's overcoat, but now managed a small, puzzled grin.

"Absolutely, sir. And hello, there, Daniel!"

"Danny," came the somewhat muffled correction from the depths of a damp scarf. The tuxedo-clad man smiled.

"My mistake. Ooch, looks like you've got yourself a bruiser, there! I've got a little girl about your age, son. She usually cries when she gets herself a scratch, but you're handling it quite nice-"

Vlad cast the man an appraising look, which silenced him immediately.

"Andrei. My cloak. And Jane."

The young man started, and, with a strange pallor coming over his face, as though he were blushing hurriedly helped the man out of his coat, finally managing to pry it away from Danny's fingertips before hastily bustling it to a nearby closet that looked as big as Danny's bedroom at home before hurrying back for Danny's raincoat, umbrella, and boots. Bemused, Danny plopped on the ground, and proceeded to remove his slightly too-large boots, hoping Andrei might give him another smile.

But no-now the man didn't so much as look at him before hurrying off once again, this time, bustling out of the shiny foyer with the big chandelier, out of sight. Danny hadn't done so much as throw a slightly annoyed look at Plasmius-he certainly hadn't talked to the man very nicely-before an aged, red-haired woman came out a nearby door, curtsying like they did on the TV.

"Mr. Masters? Tea is waiting in the parlor. And, Master Danny?"

She had a Scottish accent; curious, Danny looked around the large foyer, wondering to whom she was talking to. The woman laughed slightly when the boy found no one else.

"Ah...I mean YOU. Come along, dear," she said gently, turning a motherly, kind face down to the small boy's before she reached for his hand. "We'll get something for that little owie of yours."

So very rarely did Briar's End ever had a fire going in the fireplace; Marsha had had it bricked up this very Winter, claiming that it was a hazard to the children, and that the electronic heating was sufficient enough.

Admiring the milky-white marble of the shining hearth, a now snugly bandaged-Danny far, far more admired the roaring blaze crackling inside of it, extending his small hands out to the flames as far as he could reach from his very large chair, which seemed quite intent on eating him one way or another. Regardless of how he positioned himself, he only continued to sink further and further into the pillow. Across from his seat, Vlad was watching him while sitting an identical chair, trying not to laugh.

The parlor was nice enough-or would have been, if not for the grisly and very scary deadheads and hunting trophies staring lifelessly from the walls, some growling in exaggerated, feral expressions of rage. Danny had felt his eyes water up simply by looking at them, and now kept his eyes down at the flames, or at the small, comforting cup of warm milk and honey in his hands-a rare treat.

Vlad slowly stirred the contents of his dark tea, and cleared his throat after a few moments of peaceful stillness. While the air between them was neither tense or awkward, he was certainly left...well...unprepared, at best. At all of his social engagements, regardless if he cared a farthing for them or not, the man went so far as to research the guests attending said event beforehand, mentally preparing responses to expected questions, inventing interesting and engaging comments that could be applied to practically any given situation to steer the conversation to a higher level, and fool business associates into believing he cared.

He never had to give such regard for his servants, but of course, they were simply that: servants. Less than colleagues. If they didn't exist, surely others would be in their shoes, equally about as worth of regard as any other fancy appliance he had in his home.

Vlad lowered his teacup to the saucer, molding his expression to that of the relaxed host: Content, nonchalant, and vaguely curious. Yes. Yes, that would fit-for he wasn't a man who prided himself on his spontaneity.

"Now that the formalities have been exchanged, I would very much like to know...if you happen to know whom I am, Daniel?" he asked gently, motioning that the boy should take a biscuit from the silver tray on the coffee table.

Mouth now full of warm biscuit, crumbs scattered on his chin, Danny sent a bemused glance over at the billionaire, using his sleeve to wipe at his mouth as he swallowed.

"Y-yeah." He had to take a swig of milk to chase the honeyed crumbs from his throat. "You're Mr. Masters. Except that you told me to call you Vlad if I wanted, which is kinda cool, cause you're a grownup, and Marsha says that I'm not s'posed to call grownups by their first names. Marsha says she doesn't mind me saying her name, though, only because she's Marsha, and that's different. But a lot of grownups don't seem to have names. I think that they should get some."

Vlad blinked, slightly taken aback at the quiet little boy's little rant. He certainly was...articulate for a four year old...

But Danny, after taking another sip of milk, was at it again.

"'Cept I think I might, um, keep calling you Mr. Masters. Cause everyone calls you that in Bria-"

Danny broke off, suddenly shy again. Hadn't Marsha told them all that talking behind people's backs wasn't nice? Only it hadn't been MEAN...mostly. Mostly, a great deal of speculating from the staff bemoaning their low ages, and speaking enviously of the man's brand-new...Porsche (Whatever that was) cruising through town.

Vlad's stare was now fixated on Danny. Now feeling a little uncomfortable, Danny started kicking his legs, which dangled a foot or so off the ground, searching desperately for a new conversation topic.

"You have a very nice house." Actually, he thought it was sort of like the gloomy one he'd seen on TV during an Addam's Family rerun, but wouldn't Marsha be smiling at how polite he was being? "It's big, much bigger then Briar's End. Did it cost six dollars?"

Vlad only blinked at him for a moment or two, still a little take aback. But to his surprise, he felt himself beginning to smirk.

"Thank you, my boy. I'm glad you like it-and perhaps just a little more than that."

Danny drew in a deep breath. More then that?

"Seven dollars?"

"Maybe a mite more."

"Eight?"

"You're nearly on the dot..."

"Nine?"

"I believe so. Give or take."

Danny's goggled expression was rather cute. Vlad smirked again, which surprised him once again. The attachment he'd felt for his personal wealth and belongings had waned long ago.

Danny slowly shook his head, still in awe.

"Wow." 'Wow' didn't seem to cover it. Dash had said that having lots of money made for a very happy man. While Danny had heartily disagreed, Vlad seemed fairly happy...

...except for his eyes. Those belonged to a sad old man's, though Vlad looked a little younger then Santa Claus, and perhaps even a bit younger then Marsha.

Vlad leaned back in his seat, comfortably reclined; imperious.

"Hmm. Perhaps. But I AM rather interested in what you said earlier, Daniel. Tell me, how do they speak of me in your home?"

Judging by the look on Danny's face, Vlad had wished he hadn't asked. Of course, he wasn't surprised, considering that while he'd never done them a lick of harm-

"I think you're nice."

Dumbfounded, Vlad simply sat there for a moment, just a little incredulous. Danny's voice was abrupt; almost a little indignant. His blue eyes were glittering from the firelight flickering inbetween the two.

Vlad looked at him for a moment, but his eyes quickly cooled. However, his appreciative smile was warm.

"Well, thank you very much, Daniel. I'm glad."

He did not care. Nor would he tell himself he ever would. Not yet.

After a moment's uncomfortable silence, after Danny's eyes had strayed to one of Vlad's grandfather clocks, the billionaire thought it safe to talk again.

"So, it seems we've been neighbors for some time, now. I wonder why we haven't talked-before now?"

Vlad was too busy admiring his own interlocked fingers to look directly at the boy again.

Danny didn't respond. Growing impatient, and still slightly anxious, Vlad began to speak again:

"I believe I may have glimpsed you once or twice at Briar's End...maybe...through a window? In your yard? On the street?"

So the man HAD noticed him! Danny's heart started beating the way it did when Danny ran, hopped, skipped, or jumped. He gulped, suddenly feeling butterflies in his tummy-and lots of them.

But before his mouth went entirely dry, he blurted out: "Yes! When I look outside, I look for you. All the time. I don't miss it."

Suddenly, Danny's face went scarlet, and the boy quickly looked at his cup, and hurriedly drank the contents of it all, spilling a little down his front. He turned his eyes to the flames again, not daring to look back up.

Silence. Then-

"...ah. Well. I think I might have seen you...perhaps once or twice, but scarcely more then that. I never really noticed."

Vlad mentally slapped himself for the lie; but he'd never, ever stoop to being quite so pathetic as to deliberately walk past a certain point OUT OF HIS WAY to see a small boy waving to him from a window! It was creepy, it was sad, and it was pointless.

...though the knowledge that someone had gotten up in the morning to see HIM off was phenomenal, and knowing that someone had looked for him before bedtime was also...strangely endearing. The boy's words were sincere, spoken very much like a man he'd once known, who'd been painfully honest about everything.

Absolutely everything.

Vlad's hands tighted around the frail porcelain, his hand shaking so much that he almost shattered the china. But he forced himself to composure, and looked up...

To find, to his horror, Daniel's eyes swimming with tears.

Danny wrapped his arm around his tummy, now feeling sick. Of course. He should have known better. He told himself for a long time that the man hadn't noticed, or cared, like he'd dreamed he had. What had he done, other then waste hours in front of a window like a weirdo for someone he'd been too shy to talk to? Who'd always wind up going away?

...like Momma and Daddy had?

Vlad stared at the tears slowly oozing out of Danny's eyes, distraught. Heavens. He was sure it was certainly nothing to cry about, though he hadn't really known what he would have done if the boy had commented that he'd never even noticed the man prior to this day. That would have been...awful. Simply awful.

But the man had been an only child; he knew absolutely nothing about children. So what was he supposed to do, now?

With a sigh, Vlad stood up, withdrew his handkerchief from his pocket, and proceeded to wipe at the boy's face, although Danny abruptly threw up his arms to protect it. The billionaire rolled his eyes. Little boys.

"Daniel?"

Danny didn't seem to hear him. Vlad sighed.

"Daniel, forgive me if I spoke carelessly. I didn't mean that I never noticed you, or wasn't glad that you were there."

Through the mask of hands on his face, Danny peeked out slightly by lifting a finger. Encouraged, Vlad went on:

"In fact, I'm flattered to know that you waited for me. I only wish we'd spoken before...but why, may I ask, did you wait for me?"

"Cause you wanted me to. And I liked seeing you."

Aghast, the man immediately drew back, before his poker face smoothly slid back on.

"I believe you're under a misapprehension, dear boy. We never spoke before today, remember?"

Danny rubbed wearily at his eyes, looking exhausted.

"Yeah, well, I felt it. You looked like me."

Now, the man's face truly matched how he felt: Positively blank.

Frustrated, Danny abruptly shook his head.

"No! No! Not like me, but LIKE me. I felt it. Inside. I can't..." his face screwed up in concentration, "Really...say...what the like is, but it's hurting you, too. But it's not bad," he insisted. "Not really bad. M-Mummy would have said so."

Vlad slowly slinked back to his seat, moving away from stranger waters. Clearly, the boy had no gist of what he was saying. Though he HAD brought up his mother, something the man was very interested in about. Now just to creep over to that...

"I see. Well! Daniel, do you have any hobbies?"

Danny stared blankly back at the man. The man snorted.

"I mean, what do you do for fun?"

Oh. Danny blinked, and then let a reluctant smile grow on his face.

"I like to splash in puddles. And play with Bingo."

"Who's Bingo?"

"The dog who lives us at Briar's End. Though Marsha doesn't like that he does, none of the staff would let her take him away. I'm glad they won't...James says if he goes to the kennel, they'll take him to the 'back room.' Is that very very not good?"

The man said nothing. Daniel went on:

"I didn't like the way he said it. Anyway, Bingo is a big, old, fuzzy Mountain Dog, or something like that. He's really old-older then I am! Marsha says he's pushing up daisies in human years, which I don't get, but all he really likes to do is sleep all day. I don't think he's ever...ever bite anyone-he too nice. I can ride on him sometimes when he gets up to walk around the house, and Marsha doesn't start yelling at me for it. Sometimes, he'll fetch a ball, but only one time. Then, he just lies down and goes to sleep. And when you try to wake him up, its like poking a stick at a dead bug. Nothing happens."

Cringing slightly, Vlad still smiled.

"Interesting fellow. But what else d'you like to do?"

Danny shrugged as he happily accepted another cup of hot milk from Vlad, helping himself to a cookie on the plate. He was scarcely this hungry back at the Children's Home...

"Sometimes, I read. Marsha says that I can't much, really, but I can," he insisted. "Sometimes I play with the other kids. But they not like me very much."

And with that, Danny withdrew back into his seat, sinking a few more inches, looking quite done with the conversation. But Vlad only leaned forwards, expression intense. No. He still had yet more to ask:

"I find that difficult to believe. Why do you think that?"

Danny's shoulders slowly rose and fell.

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because Dash."

Vlad frowned.

"'Dash?' What are you-"

Danny started kicking his feet again, looking moody.

"Dash not like me. He's a big kid-and everyone likes him a lot. Marsha tells all the parents who come by how at...oth...good at running and stuff he is. She never says anything about me-she just looks at me 'fore she starts whispering to them. And people look at me funny, or not at all. I'm glad that they do, though. It is just that Dash is mean. Everyone thinks he is so nice, but one time, he put a scary toy bug in his own bed, and told Marsha I did it, so I had to go to bed early, and say 'I'm sorry' in front of everyone. Then, he put all of his peas on my plate when I not looking and takes my cookie. But he said to Marsha that I already eated my cookie, so I got put in time out. And then, one day, in the sandbox-"

But Danny cut off, refocused his attention on his new biscuit, and didn't finish. Vlad stared soberly at him for a moment or two.

"Why does he dislike you so?"

Danny shrugged again.

"Have you tried talking to anyone else about that?"

"They no listen."

"So what do you do when he's around?"

"Hide."

"That's not good."

"No."

This was going nowhere. Vlad opened his mouth, about to offer his consolations, and then-

"Do you have a best friend at the Home, Daniel?"

Danny shifted in his chair, looking sleepy. And sad.

"No at Briar's End. My best friend Tucker's away."

"Did he live at the home? Does he still live there? Was he adopted?"

"No. He have a home. Always did. He lived next to mine."

Danny slowly curled into a ball, gazing at his own stockinged feet as though they were the most interesting things in the world. Vlad hesitated.

The look on the boy's face...

He's only a child,

his conscience whispered. Better just to leave him alone, now. Don't make him relive more then he wants to.

But he was not a man particularly used to hearing his conscience, and was not particularly pleased to hear it once again. And so-

"Why don't you live there anymore? With your best friend?"

Now, Danny was getting scary inside. He tucked himself into a tighter ball on the chair, looking at the flames in the fireplace, but seeing them in another place, entirely...

"Because Mommy and Daddy no want me anymore," the child heard himself say hoarsely. "They leave me."

He tried to say this coolly enough, like Dash could say things that weren't or maybe were just a little bit true.

But his parents HAD gone-beyond where he could follow. And so, Danny started to cry once again, hot tears burning his eyes as they crept down his face, and this time, he started sobbing; terrible, ragged sobs, the likes of which he'd seemed dried out of in the day, but so much like the ones that appeared on his damp pillowcase in the morning, that came out when he was sleeping, when he was holding still.

Danny wept, and again, Vlad jumped up, more at a loss then ever. Danny's sobs slowly started to rise in pitch, and the boy sounded near hysterics. Loathing himself, feeling shame burning his insides, he immediately flew to the boy's side, but hesitated again.

Oh, what did he do, what did he do? This was terrible. Absolutely awful. He only had himself to thank-they'd been having such a nice time before he had to spoil it all! Daniel would leave here in tears, would never want to see him again, would hate him...

Vlad's hands slowly found their way to Danny's arms again, and the man exhaled. He'd done this before-just today. Telling himself not to be a coward, Vlad carefully lifted the child much as he'd done just an hour or so ago, and slowly settled back into the chair, hand cupping the back of the boy's head, even as his crying continued.

"Shhhh. Shhh-oh, for the love of...cry as much as you want to, dear boy. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Danny's wails increased, and Vlad found himself sadly staring into space as he smoothed and caressed the child's spiky hair, finding it easier then he'd expected it to be.

But this was the end. The child would want nothing more to do with him. And he certainly did not resent him for it. He'd hurt him. But this wasn't simple sadness. It was Grief.

He'd endured that for too long in silence, and his capacity to cry had long since dried up with half of his humanity. And Daniel...

Vlad fondly glanced down at the child, and bent down to murmur quietly in the boy's ears, cupping Daniel's red face.

...this child would NOT grow up to be like him. He was too warm to freeze over; too bubbly and feeling to become a statue. No. Even if he had to cry every single day, even if crying alone scarcely solved a thing, the boy deserved his tears.

Hadn't he had enough taken from him as it was? A heart couldn't grow anything good if it wasn't watered by the occasional tear. HIS heart was...

...well, he'd thrown that one away a long time ago. Bygones.

The billionaire leaned back in his seat, hugging Danny as he stared up at the ceiling, still absentmindedly stroking.

'Left Behind?' What did the child mean? Had his parents simply abandoned the boy? Vlad felt a bitter tinge of acid burn against the back of his throat. He'd get the full story eventually, but in the meantime...

His hold around the child tightened, and Vlad braced himself for the next wave of tears.

*Sighs.* Poor Danny. Even if this chapter was (again) moving rather slowly...at least we saw a little more of the plot this time. Can't all be sunshine and roses! Vlad's a bit of a jerk...for many reasons, which I'll explain later on. We've got some trouble looming up ahead, folks, so sit tight for right now!