July Writing Challenge: Cinematic Spectacular

[Sean *]

It's writing challenge time! To enter, just post a ficlet (300-4000 words suggested) in this thread. When the voting for this month's OTM winners comes around, a voting poll will go up for this as well.

The Challenge: This is in the same vein as our song challenge. Pick a movie. Now write a story that uses some elements from that movie or follows a similar thematic path. The story must include dialogue, and at least one major, memorable quote from that movie must be included in the dialogue. (E.g. "If we can't protect the Earth, you can be damned sure we'll avenge it.) This is not a crossover challenge. Movies do not have to be big budget films and can be anything from the talkie era, including movies in non-English languages.

The rules:

• Characters must be in Hammel canon, but the ficlets are not site canon unless expressly stated, and anything setting-breaking will not be site canon regardless.
  
• Entries must be more than 300 words.
  
• You can enter no more than three ficlets. Any ficlets posted after the original 3 will not be considered for voting. If you want to post more, however, have fun.
  
• Ficlets must be titled with the title of the movie that inspired them. Also, link to the movie IMDB page or Wikipedia page to share with the rest of us.

[Lani Hunter]

((I'm sorry, I couldn't resist!))

Jaws
www.imdb.com/title/tt0073195/?ref_=fn_al_tt_1

Amity Island. Lani’s eyes squinted over the swells as he stood a good distance back on the beach. Whoever though living on an island was a good idea was clearly out of their mind. Who would want to live surrounded by so much water. It was madness. Lani was almost glad to have set the warnings and close the beaches because then he himself couldn’t be pressured into the water. That did little to ease his conscious, two people were dead.

“Chief, Chief!” A voice called and Lani turned and smiled fakely at the man approaching.

“Mr. Honnick, what can I do for you?”

“Chief Walden, we cannot have these beaches closed much longer. It’s going to be the 4th of July soon and we have to have people in the water,” Joe said and gave a sneering look, “Can’t you get your meta humans to patrol the water?”

Lani smiled refusing to let the Lawyer turned Mayor get under his skin, Joe Honnick was – is – the leader of PUSE and somehow he’d gotten into the small town of Amity after swaying Pilot Ridge. He was moving and his movement was spreading. And Lani knew it just killed him that the (alleged) thief turned Police Chief was a telekinetic.

It wasn’t Lani’s choice to be here. If Lani hadn’t had to go into hiding he wouldn’t be here on this godforsaken island responsible for the safety of these people. There had been a great deal of people in Witness Protection who though the use of Lani’s power was hilarious, but honestly with his Boss broken out he’d do whatever he had to in order to stay alive. And if that meant pretending to be a cop on a long forgotten island, that was what Lani would do.

Right now, however, his boss was not the shark he was worried about. “Mr. Honnick, I appreciate your concern,” Lani replied icily, “We do not have the man power for that kind of sweep. What we do have is a few days, a boat, and that fellow from the Marine Institute.”

Joe smiled just as fakely as Lani had, Lani was extremely glad they’d never met while he was in Pilot Ridge. And he was glad he’d graduated before that Raylaigh Hawthorne from the Marine Institute was at Hammel.

“Very well, I wish you all the best of luck.” Joe was overly polite and it made Lani’s skin crawl, he hated politicians. This was supposed to be a temporary gig until they caught his boss again but it had already been almost two years that he’d been stuck on this island, isolated from people he loved, people he couldn’t speak to for fear of exposing himself and them to danger.

Lani turned around after Joe and followed him taking a turn toward the docks instead of toward downtown. He arrived at the boathouse and picked his way nervously over the boards. How did he get volunteered for this? They couldn’t have sent him into Witness Protection somewhere in the desert?

“Hello?” He called into the dim boathouse his power doing a quick sweep and identifying two people nearby.

“Over here, Chief!” The gruff voice of Captain John called. He was a tall thin man who seemed as carefree on water as he was on land. He stood with a cocky slouch and seemed to look at people from under his eyebrows even though he was taller than most people.

“Ah, Chief Walden, good to see you again,” Hawthorne said hopping toward Lani and grabbing his hand to shake it. The tall younger man had wings on his feet and was dressed very much like he was ready for vacation in his boat shoes and shorts. He had done nothing but gush about how exciting it was to see a Great White. Lani though he was very much insane.

“You too, Hawthorne.”

“Please, call me Ray.” Lani raised a brow and forced a polite smile. He was a horrible police officer, he didn’t know who thought this was a good idea. He wasn’t diplomatic in the least, but he was a good con artist and that was pretty much the same thing.

“Ray, I see you’ve met John. I spoke with Joe and he’s given us a deadline, so let’s make this quick.”

“Right, right,” John said and motioned him through the docks to the boat. He tossed his bag on the deck and Lani made a skeptical look at the boat. Captain John clapped Lani on the shoulder, throwing him briefly off balance and laughing as Lani’s body tensed and he jerked back to avoid falling in. “Not much a fan of the water are you?”

Lani’s sour face only made it all the more clear and John moved onto the boat laughing while Lani stepped on and almost immediately felt the panic rising. Admittedly he’d never gotten over his fear, merely gotten good at hiding it.

Raylaigh hopped lightly into the boat wings on his feet fluttering as he landed softly on the deck. “Those have to be hell to walk with,” Lani commented.

The flyer laughed and nodded his head. “The worst, Chief Walden.”

“Call me Tyler,” Lani replied.

“’Ey lovebirds, get yourself secure we’re shoving off!” Captain John said and Lani was glad he did so because he had to reach out and grab the side as they started to move. Lani had never developed sea legs and he wasn’t planning on starting. Nothing was stable and Lani’s balance got thrown off with the swaying deck. He looked out to sea and groaned internally, he was going to be out here all day.

Lani held his shirt collar over his nose to try to give himself a little relief from the awful smell of the rotting fish he was slinging into the ocean. Raylaigh was flying horizontally in low sweeping spirals a few feet above the calm water to see if he could spy the beast. He really supported relocation, but Lani was not going to risk his life to save a man-eating fish. He was bored and miserable, he never wanted to be so close to the water. He barely registered it when an enormous head lurched out of the water mouth open and teeth sharp. Lani jumped back in surprise his eyes wide. The beast had already vanished by the time it registered to Lani that he should call for some sort of help.

“J-John.” Lani said slowly backing up, he couldn’t even believe that thing. It could easily have swallowed him whole. “John!”

“What, what is it?”

“You’re gonna need a bigger boat.” Lani said numbly.

“What?” John asked shoving his way past Lani to peer over the edge of the ship.

A whistle from afar caught their attention. “I see him!” Ray called pointing below himself, “Holy shit he’s a big one!”

The fin soon appeared racing toward the boat Lani saw it and John was already running toward the harpoons and flagging Raylaigh to help.

“He’s coming straight for us,” Lani informed them, “He’s coming straight for us!”

They were already scrambling and Lani braced himself as the boat shuttered. It didn’t help, Lani was knocked back into the scuba tanks and his head smarted. He grabbed the rail and blinked his eyes clear his hand reached back and searching for blood on his head. Not finding any he gritted his teeth and got back to his feet. He tucked the scuba tanks back into place before he started scanning the horizon for a fin.

“I got him!” John called and Lani leaned over the side of the boat to see what they were talking about. A barrel skidded the ocean surface and Lani smiled in relief, they had him.

Then the barrel started to disappear. “Wha- what’s he doing? He’s taking it under!” Lani yelled and there was a chorus of swears.

Raylaigh was extremely excited he was jabbering on about something about the strength of the animal being amazing and his wings fluttered making an annoying humming noise that pounded on Lani’s skull.

“Hey Tyler, how’re you doing?” Ray asked.

“Fine, fine.”

“You sure? That looked like a nasty fall, that is a strong fish.”

“It’s a vicious fish.” Lani retorted, “Hold on I’ll find him.”

Lani plopped onto the deck of the boat and let his power loose. The ache in his head wasn’t at all a pleasant mix with his power, but it wasn’t horrible. Lani stretched his power out and down, sweeping it like a Radar beam and seeking out the vanished barrel. Midway through his search Lani opened his eyes and looked down at the boat.

“Uh… guys…” No response they were speaking to each other about the shark. The biologist could barely keep his winged feet on the ground. Lani got to his feet and his whole body shivered with terror. “Guys!” He repeated sharply, “We’ve got another problem. There is a crack in the… in the…”

“Hull?”

“Whatever that thing that it is that is keeping us from being in the water!” Lani started realizing that with a crack in the hull they were sinking. Sinking! The water! He couldn’t swim, he was going to drown! Lani hugged himself his hands clinging to his shoulders as he felt the water filling his lungs and…

Smack!

The sound startled Lani as much as the stinging pain that bloomed suddenly on his cheek. Captain John shook his shoulder. “For fuck’s sake Chief, pull yourself together! We have a thirty foot shark out there!”

Lani swallowed and nodded his head. Right, priorities. The water was the least of their worries. Lani closed his eyes and took a deep breath and ignoring the pain in his head and the crack in the hull scanned out with his power again. His eyes snapped open and he looked off port side. “There he is.”

The barrel was making its own wake as it sped toward them. “Damn smart fish!” John said and pulled his harpoon again and aimed it for the ocean but the shark didn’t surface. The barrel hit the side of the boat and skidded with a horrible scraping sound on the underside. Lani grabbed the rail as the boat shuttered. Almost immediately after the initial shutter the boat jolted harshly as the shark rammed it. Lani heard and felt the crack that time and the boat lurched sinking faster.

Lani hung on tightly and his face looked down at the water for a moment and he met the shark’s black dead eye. A moment later the sound of a splash and a cry caught his ear. It took a lot of convince for Lani to let go of the rail and run to the starboard side.

“John!” Ray cried as the Captain splashed in the water. Raylaigh jumped overboard and grabbed the Captain’s hand. The flying biologist pulled at the Captain.

“Hurry! It’s coming back!” Lani screamed and the telekinetic reached out for the Captain. His power wrapped around him at the same time something else did. For a moment Lani’s power was pulling up and the shark was pulling down. Lani couldn’t touch the animal and the jaws were too powerful.

The screams were horrible and Lani closed his eyes. John was lost. He let go and John and Ray disappeared under the waves. Lani’s heart raced. “Ray? Ray!” There was no reply, he hadn’t expected Ray to go under as well.

Water was rushing onto the deck and he was alone in the middle of the ocean with a man eating shark. Lani’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t going to be fish food. Grasping the scuba tanks with his power he sensed the barrel and rushed toward the side of the ship.

He saw it coming and poised the tank to strike and bash it’s head. The creature raised its head and Lani’s resolve faltered as some part of John trailed in the shark’s teeth. With a cry he thrust the tank at the shark as it smashed through the hull. Lani fell back and slid into the water. The telekinetic screamed and flailed. His power was everywhere but nothing was making sense. Debris in the water was making it hard for his power to identify anything. His head slipped under the water and he forced his eyes open.

There it was. Circling death. He grabbed some part of the ship and lifted it. Hanging on by his fingertips he hauled himself out of the water. His power rocketing him upward and his feet pulled up out of the water. Something pasted by overhead but Lani was too focused on the gaping abyss that was the shark’s mouth as it lunged for him.

Overhead he heard Ray’s voice. “Smile you son of a—” The tank exploded. Lani shielded himself as best he could from the blast with a hard shell of the boat.

He looked up and Ray’s eyes glared and his face set in anger the gun quivering in his grip. Lani breathed a sigh of relief and found a floating piece of the boat he set himself down and allowed himself to just relish the fact that he was alive. Soon Ray landed next to him and relished in the same fact.

[Percie Hobbes]

THE LABYRINTH

In hindsight, wishing your younger sibling away was a tremendously stupid idea as sixteen-year-old Percie was learning. It didn’t matter if they were a baby or a ten-year-old brat that stole your clothing, yelling the words “I wish the goblins would take you away, right now!” was definitely NOT a good idea.

Percie panted as she finally made her way to the floor of the strange room with all the stairs. She bent over, hands on her knees as she tried to draw the deepest breaths she could in order to face the Goblin King while her younger sister slept in an enchanted sleep somewhere behind him. Finally she stood to her full height, the intimidating 6’ that let her tower over most of her classmates. The advantage of this being that it put her almost eye level with the man in ridiculous tights. As he swaggered towards her, Percie simmered.

“Give me my sister asshole!” she seethed, barely contained rage practically shivering down her entire body. The Goblin King smiled indulgently.

“Persephone beware, I have been generous up until now but I can be cruel,” he told her soothingly, that charming smile in place as he drew ever closer. She refused to let her eyes fall to his cloak, only aware once more that his outfit boarded on the insane though, she supposed he was allowed to be outlandish; he was the king of all goblins after all.

“Generous?” she snorted derisively, scowling straight into his eyes. “What have you done that’s generous?”

“EVERYTHING!” he thundered unexpectedly. Percie barely kept herself from flinching away from his show of power. “Everything you wanted I have done! You asked for you sister to be taken and I took her. I have re-ordered time, turned the world upside-down and I have done it all for you.” he hissed as he circled her. Percie stood still, only her head moving her hardened glare around to keep him in her line of sight. He hadn’t needed to re-order time, thirteen hours wasn’t a standard measure of time on any clock on earth, and they were supposedly in the Goblin Realm. It hadn’t mattered anyway; she’d solved the Labyrinth in eight hours and avoided all the ridiculous pitfalls he had set up. Except that ballroom, she wasn’t sure how she’d wound up there but it embarrassed her just thinking about how big her ball gown had been. Waking up in the Labyrinth dump hadn’t been a fun experience either.

“I’m exhausted from living up to your expectations,” he sighed as if she were being a spoiled, petulant child. “Isn’t that generous?” he demanded.

“Listen, shit-for-brains,” Percie began with all the authority she could muster. “You just made me navigate a ridiculous maze while trying to kill me with all of your little tricks. I have finally fought my way here to the castle beyond that slum you call a city and you are NOT going to keep me away from my sister,” she began to advance on him aggressively, taking great pleasure in how quickly he seemed to desire to get away from her. “I am just as strong as you and –,”

“STOP!” he ordered suddenly, Percie stopped to keep from getting any closer to him than she had to. “Look, Persephone, look what I am offering you,” the blond haired king lifted his hand to summon one of his many, magic crystal balls and held it out to her. “Your dreams,” he stated confidently, face softening as he observed her again. “I ask for so little! Just let me rule you,” he cajoled as he moved the ball away just a little in order to meet her eyes, “and you can have everything that you want.”

Percie narrowed her own eyes as she prepared meet his will with her own.

“Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave,” he murmured suggestively as his own powers began to caress against her mind.

Percie took a physical step back and surged forward again, taking him by surprise as she grabbed the wrist that held the magic crystal. “You have no power over me,” she hissed as her eyes stared into his own. Combining all her skill and anger into a full frontal assault she shattered the Goblin King’s mental defenses and used her ability to edit herself out of every memory they had shared together in the last eight hours, including the moment she had wished for her sister to be taken away. As the world shattered around them Percie had a headache surge so painful that she blacked out momentarily and woke up what seemed like minutes later on the floor of her bedroom.

“Hestia?” she called, wincing as her head throbbed enough to bring tears to her eyes. Ugh why did her head hurt so god damn badly? Visions of a strikingly handsome blond-haired man floated through her memory before vanishing again. What the hell happened?

“Yeah?” her ten year old sister came running into her room wearing Percie’s favorite shirt. Percie looked at her sister for a moment before smiling. “It looks cute on you, give it back after you wash it,” she said as she pulled her now aching body into bed and curling up under the covers. She wasn’t sure what had happened to make her head hurt so suddenly like that but maybe if she was lucky her dreams would sort through it for her, she was going to need a lot of sleep to make this migraine go away.

[Salem Hirch]

Halloween

(I took some liberties, basically condensed it a bit)
(trigger warning, depictions of death)

What could possibly go wrong watching a kid on Halloween night? Easy money, free candy, and enough scary movies to traumatize the child into an early grave. At least that's what Salem Hirch thought as he walked the already children filled sidewalks to the Doyle residence. He'd take Tommy trick-or-treating, get back, fill the kid's head with horror, send him to bed, then snag some candy of his own. All in all, not a bad gig and he'd have to remember to thank Kailin for this. Salem's friend Kailin had introduced him to the Doyle family, when she found out she would be babysitting Lindsey Wallace next door. Tommy and Salem hit it off very quickly, so the family was happy to have the young man babysit for them.

It was still early when he knocked on the door, and Tommy was quick to respond. Trying his best to pull Salem away so they could start their candy haul, but he had to wait long enough for the parents to tell him emergency numbers and the rest of the typical speech. Then they were off, picking up Kailin and Lindsey as they went. The two friends talked of boys and school as they let the kids just run amok gathering candy. It felt like hours before they finally managed to drag the kids back to their homes. As they did, they noticed a house across the street was gathering a little group of familiar faces on the porch, all people from school. Phoenix Tang and his boyfriend Oriel Vanguard were the two that stuck out. There were a few more there, but it wasn't a full blown party. Just seemed like a few people hanging out. Which Salem was happy for, no loud music to keep the kids up.

Not long after finally getting Tommy inside, he had the kid in bed and asleep. Of course, Tommy fought him pretty bad, but Salem remembered a few tricks his parents pulled on him and eventually won the fight. Now it was time to relax. Sitting down, he grabbed Tommy's bucket of candy and started to nibble at a few choice pieces. A nice old horror movie rolled on in the background, everything was calm.

SPLAT!

A loud wet noise came from the window just behind Salem's head and he jumped off the couch scared out of his wits for a moment. Turning, he saw the egg inching it's way down the window, and through it he could make out a shape. It was laughing, and when it moved into the streetlight, Salem saw that it was Demetrius Wolfbane. This did not surprise him in the slightest, he rushed to the door and shouted at him, only to have him flip him off and run away. It was then that Salem noticed a feeling, a feeling of being watched. He glanced down the street and saw the shadow of a man standing a little ways away. There was no real way of telling if the guy was looking or not, but Salem just assumed he heard him yell and shrugged it off. As he turned though, he noticed the man hadn't moved.


By now of course, Salem was starting to feel a little creeped out. The streets were quiet, so was the house. As he locked the front door, he jogged to the phone to dial next door, hoping that Kailin would pick up. Right as his hand grabbed for the phone, it rang. The boy nearly chocked on his own air. Slowly, and with cation he picked up the receiver. "Hello?" He whispered, but no one responded. At least for a moment, then a noise, a soft almost wet noise. The moment he heard that, Salem turned off the phone. Which rang again shortly after. This time when he picked it up, there was a familiar sounding voice on the other end.

"Gee, thanks for hanging up on me." The welcomed British accent of his friend George rang out from the ear piece and Salem drew a sigh of relief. "I thought ya were a perv or something George." His hand ran through his blonde hair and he leaned against the counter of the kitchen. "I had my mouth full dork." She pretended to grumble. "So, you still gonna be at the Doyle's in about an hour?" Salem wrinkled his nose some. "Yeah, why?" Now she kinda had his attention. "Well, I gotta run something over to Tak, you know Tak, anyway. I'll be in the neighborhood and thought I could keep ya company for a bit." 

"I'd like that." Salem smiled into the phone. At least now he wouldn't be totally alone with the creepy feelings he was getting. "Alright, see you then sexy!" With that George was gone, and Salem was left alone in silence. Until the phone rang again. This time it was Kailin. Her voice was like the light at the end of the tunnel. "Hey Kales, what's up?" Salem hopped up on the counter now, feeling a bit more relaxed. "Um, I hate to ask this, but could you watch Lindsey for like an hour? Anthony wants to meet up for just a bit. I promise it will only be an hour." Kailin sounded so sweet and sincere when she spoke about her boyfriend, and Salem's best friend. He couldn't say no, and a few minutes later, little Miss Lindsey was tucked safely into a guest bedroom and Salem was now alone with two kids. 

The house seemed even creepier now, and Salem felt more alone now than he had before. He glanced across the road through the living room window and realized the egg was still there. He trotted to the kitchen, grabbed a spray bottle and made his way outside. Just as he finished, the wind died down and he heard the last remnants of a scream. A terrified, but muffled scream to be exact and it came from across the street. He glanced up at the house for a moment and chewed on his lip. The scream sounded genuine and he knew people there, so he had to check it out. "The kids will be fine for a minute." Salem thought as he made his way across the street. 

(if you want...start playing the Halloween theme song now..lol)

As he stepped up to the door, he noticed it was open just a crack. Like it was waiting for him to be there. That thought sent chills up and down his spine, but he pushed inside and began to look. "Hello?!" He called out, and no one replied. Slowly he made his way up the stairs, having seen light from a bedroom up there. "I swear Oriel, if this is a prank, I'm gonna kill you!" This was a hollow threat and he knew it, he knew Oriel would too, if this was a prank. The light he had seen was coming from the first room at the top of the stairs. His feet padded softly on the carpet as he methodically walked closer to the door. 

Creaking the door open, he was first met with the light source. A plastic jack-o-lantern. The room was dimly lit by it, but he could still see the figure on the bed. His blue eyes widened in horror as he realized it was the body of Takchawee Ominotago. Her throat had been slashed from ear to ear, he had just seen her hours ago, standing on the porch with the others. "Oh god, the others.." He whimpered. Salem clamped a hand over his mouth and backed out of the room, only to hear a creaking sound above him. Looking up, he saw the trap door to the attic...which seemed oddly loose. It was more than loose, moments later it came crashing open and the body of Gryphon Matsuoka, blood pouring down his face. Salem jumped back and slammed hard into a cabinet behind him. He was trying not to sob and barely noticed when one of the doors creaked open. 

Finally looking over, he saw Phoenix, his body twisted and shoved into the small cabinet in a way that made Salem almost physically ill. He cried out and ran to top of the stairs, pausing to catch his breath on the banister. The soft creak of wood told the boy he was not alone, but his sobbing was almost covering it. A louder creak caught his attention and he turned long enough to see the masked man with a knife. Salem dodged the full assault and the knife grazed down his arm, but he was close enough to the stairs that the momentum caused him to topple. There was no time for pain, he had to move. Somehow he managed to find his foot and raced toward the front door, which was now blocked by something. No, not something, a body. Salem let out a sorrowful wail when he realized it was George, his dear friend. No more life left in her at all. 

The stairs started to creak as the mad man moved closer still. Salem turned and rushed to the kitchen, hoping for a weapon, but instead found backdoors leading to freedom. As he ran a closet door swung open in front of him and he almost ran into another body. Oriel was stuck a few feet off the ground, to the inside of the door. A large knife through his chest. Once again, Salem tried not to scream and kept running. The double side doors burst open and he started to jog across the grass. His legs hurting from the fall down the stairs. Suddenly his foot caught something and he was face down in the dirt. Scrambling quickly he looked over and realized it was the body of Dem. The boy still had eggs in his hand. What kind of monster was Salem dealing with?

His first thought was to run to neighbors, but it was Halloween and he was teenager. They would have thought he was playing a joke. So, he made himself run back to the Doyle's. Looking behind him, he didn't see the shadow man...at first. Salem made it all the way to the door before looking behind himself again. There he was, the masked killer...walking...slowly catching up. The blonde youth jiggled the doorknob. Locked! "Tommy!!!!" He screamed. "Tommy! Open the door right now, please!!!" He was begging the boy to be awake, or even little Lindsey. Now Salem could almost feel the man on top of him and his heart felt as if it would explode.

Then the door opened, Tommy and Lindsey both standing there, still half asleep and scared. Salem ran inside and slammed the door behind him. Kneeling down, he took Tommy by the shoulders. "Tommy, you listen to me...you take Lindsey and you hide okay...don't come out for anyone but me." Tommy didn't argue and neither did Lindsey and they vanished. His next move was to call the police, but that thought was cut short because the power just went out. Panic rose in him and he felt sick, he knew that somewhere outside was a man that wanted to kill him. 

Looking around he found a knitting needle laying in a bag by the couch and he grabbed it. He had no idea how he would defend himself with it, but he was going to try. Tears ran down his face as he slowly sank to the couch, his stomach in knots. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, then heard the soft rustle of curtains, the rhythmic sound of breathing from nearby. His eyes popped open and he started to shake. The window near him was open and he knew what stood behind him. The knife glinted in the darkness and he moved in time to barely escape it. The man was trapped for a brief moment, and Salem took the opportunity to jab the needle into his shoulder.

As the man flailed, Salem ran. Up the stairs was the only course of action he could even begin to think to take. His brain was in pure flight mode. In an upstairs bedroom he took refuge in crowded closet. IT was a tight fit, but he managed. He heard the footsteps getting closer, and closer. All the while hoping that he wouldn't be found. Then, the footsteps were in the bedroom, walking near the closet and Salem squatted down for more protection. Almost as if on cue, the man's arm burst through the slats in the closet door. Salem start to scream and flail, trying to find anything he could to defend himself as the man made a hole for himself in the door.

When the mask finally peaked through the door, Salem managed to grab a wire hanger and bent the hook straight. It was all he could think of, as was what came next. With a sudden burst of courage, Salem lunged at the man, jabbing the metal into the eye socket of the mask. He heard a groan of pain and the man stumbled backward and then fell, going still and silent. In the closet, Salem waited for what felt like eternity before slowly creeping out. The man lay sprawled on the floor, passed out. With a huge sigh of relief, Salem managed to moved to the doorway of the room and called for the kids. Tommy and Lindsey slowly came out of a hallway closet and made there way to Salem. 

"Alright Tommy, Lindsey...I want you to run down the street to the gas station...tell them to call the police.." Tommy started to argue, fearing leaving Salem alone. "Just do as I say Tommy please." Tommy nodded and took Lindsey's hand. The moment they were outside they started to scream. This caught the attention of a passing car, driving by a Dr. Sean Neville. A man who had been tracking an escaped mental patient for days. Sean parked his car outside the house and grabbed his gun, quickly heading inside. He could hear the soft sobbing of someone and jogged up the stairs with as much speed as he could. 

Salem heard someone coming and looked up, his eyes filled with tears, his body shaking. He saw a kind looking older man standing there, and then saw him raise a gun slowly. The boys heart panicked and fluttered and he almost screamed. Sean had seen, while coming up the stairs, that slowly sitting up behind the boy, was a masked man holding a knife. "GET DOWN!" He screamed at the boy and Salem ducked without hesitation. Shots rang out as Sean emptied one round after another. The masked man steady stumbling backwards, towards a set of doors that led to a balcony. 


CRASH! The doors crumbled under the man.


BANG! Another shot fired, and the man stumbled once more...right over the edge of the balcony. Sean stood there panting for a moment. Salem, crying and trying to pull himself upright whimpered as he looked at the doctor. "Was that....the boogeyman?" His still terrified voice croaked out. "Yes, I believe it was." Sean replied almost flatly, but honestly. Slowly, the older man made his way to the edge of the balcony to see the police driving up the road. In the flashing lights, he glanced down at the ground and horror filled his eyes. There was no body below, just a dent in the ground where one had been.

 


 

[Percie Hobbes]

The Princess Diaries

“You are princess of Genovia”

“Me?” Axelle gasped and stared at her previously, unknown grandmother who beamed expectantly. “HOLY SHIT!” the faux red-head shouted as she leapt from her chair and began to pace all about the hotel suite with nervous energy.

“Excuse me?!” the queen of Genovia gasped as her granddaughter’s use of foul language.

“Oh, your majesty…it’s probably just a phase she’s going through, you know kid’s these days they’ll use anything to mean “wow, gee whiz, golly wolly-,” an aide tried to intervene.

“Or “oh my god I’m a PRINCESS!”," Axelle shouted from the next room before stopping to breathe and wander back inside. She still paced but not as wildly and she kept eye contact with her grandmother. “Did my dad know?” she asked curiously.

“Uh, well…no, I don’t believe he did. At least there’s no way he would unless Giselle told him,” she corrected herself. “My daughter came here under an assumed name, it took years to track her down, to track you down.,” the queen sighed. “I only wish I had found both of you sooner, perhaps the tragedy of her death could have been avoided.”

Axelle remained silent after that statement. She had never wondered how her life might be different if her mother had lived. By her father’s accounts she sounded like a vain, selfish woman, one that he had loved deeply enough to ignore her faults. Axelle wasn’t nearly so kind. All she saw was a woman who had abandoned them and broken her father’s heart. She didn’t think a woman like that deserved to be married, let alone run a kingdom. Which brought her back to...

“Oh my god I’m a princess…I just….I can’t…I can’t be a princess! I’m still trying to pass high school!” she lamented as she sat down in the chair a little too forcefully and ended up breaking it, squealing as she tumbled backwards onto her butt. “Oh…yeah and that.”

“HA!” To Axelle’s surprise her grandmother actually chuckled. “Your great-grandfather was quite strong himself; he broke the throne during his coronation. Everyone thought it was just old, he had it rebuilt to withstand anything,” the queen chuckled as an aged hand reached out and touched her cup of tea, encasing it in a shell of ice. "Your mother was not gifted as a meta-human I’m afraid, but it’s wonderful that you are, we have something in common,” she grinned kindly.

Axelle hesitated and then smiled. “Yeah, I guess we do,” she answered.

[Georgina Speer]

Juno
IMBD link
~Trigger Warning: Swearing, Teen Pregnancy, Interesting Topics of Conversation (I will count this as a trigger)~

Greg poked George's inflated stomach for about the gazillionth time as they walked down the hall together, on their way out to town to just do stuff like the fabulous people they were. The behatted lady rolled her eyes, "Dude, I know it's not gonna be my kid, but would you stop prodding the poor blob? I might get it returned for being defective after its brain got poked in a million times by some Canadian weirdo."

He stopped, but smirked, "Don't you mean a gazillion?" And then he poked it again.

The British girl removed her hat for three seconds, one to get it off her head, one to smack Greg's head with it, and one to spin it on her finger before replacing it. The Canadian frowned and rubbed the impact zone, "Ow... Gigi the Hat Murderer. Yup, really has a ring to it."

They continued to pad along, leaving the front gates of Hammel and walking out into the world of the outside, a strange and dangerous place, filled with mystery and wonder. According to George. "Hat Murderer?" She questioned, "Makes it sound like I murder hats, which I would never do, you great sheep."

"Sheep? You've got it all wrong, England - if I was an animal, I would be a damn peacock." Greg announced proudly. You could almost imagine his feathers being displayed in their glory behind him. But they weren't there, they didn't exist. So instead he stuck up his nose and looked down at the shorter girl, who was grinning and shaking her head, as she pulled out a strawberry lace and put it in her mouth, letting it hang majestically and swing as she walked. It was snatched out from between her lips seconds later by the curly haired wonder himself, who flung it away like it was a bomb about to detonate. George looked utterly flabbergasted, "Hey, Peacock, I was enjoying that edible shoelace!"

Greg poked her stomach again.

"I really hate you right now."

The telepath looked at her for a moment, as if concentrating seriously for a second (oh my, what a miracle!), and then he faced forward again, "No, you don't. You worship me like I'm a God."

Georgina tilted her head, ignoring the sentiment behind Greg's words for the moment, "I wonder what that the religion would be called - the religion of the Godly Peacock boy."

Greg bounced on his toes and jumped in front of her, walking backwards and pointing accusingly at her, "You didn't deny it!"

George ignored him, "...Featherism...? No, that sounds like a fetish of feathers... Cocksian? ...something about that sounds wrong..."

"Hey, British Balloon Belly Bitch, your God orders you to buy yourself a million skirts and wear them.everyday!" The said British Balloon Belly Bitch said nothing and stepped to the left, making Greg cocked his head in confusion as gracefully-

Thunk.

-he walked into a lamppost. The boy rubbed the back of his head, and George stopped and looked over at him, acting with an informative look on her face, "Oh, there's a lamppost there, don't walk into it or anything." She smiled innocently at the end and winked.

He rolled his eyes, "Thanks, Gigi. Now I can live safely and not get any more brain damage."

The British girl smirked.

They walked further into town centre, the banter continuing as they did. The back and forth between the pair was quick and witty, and maybe offensive to anyone who happened to lend their ear but that was just how their humour was. They walked past a lot of people, one of them being a particular dark haired girl, who glanced at George and snorted, before declaring her to be a "Reckless slut."

Greg frowned and turned around, shouting "Boo, you whore!" after her, before facing the right way again. George sighed, "Jesus Christ, I know I'm still a kid, but what is it with people and insulting me? Like, thank you for pointing out that I am pregnant, gold star for you." They turned a corner and the English girl shook her head in annoyance, "And, I know that people have been talking behind my back and making up shit. Seriously, if they're gonna insult me, why don't they do it to my bloody face so I can insult them back? Bastards."

Both of them were silent for a short while, before the telepath spoke, "They are just jealous."

George looked at him in disbelief, "Jealous of what? I'm sure lugging around a living football under my stomach isn't all that enviable."

"Gigi, you're a total badass. You got pregnant, and you kept it like the fucking soldier you are. You had to go through all that stuff at Hammel, there are people hammering down on you, you have school work and all that shit and you're still walking around like it's just a regular Tuesday."

Georgina raised her eyebrow, "It's Saturday."

Greg sighed, "Whatever you say, it doesn't matter. Stop being negative, you'll disprove me." George crossed her arms, but a smile spread on her face unintentionally. She grumped a little, "Damn you, you shouldn't be making me happy! I'm a hormonal wreck of sadness and despair!"

The pair stopped walking once something caught Greg's eye. He backtracked a bit and looked into a lingerie shops, displaying mannequins of bra-wearing models and with a lacey, promiscuous feel to the place. "We should go in there." He stated casually. George protested with her face, "I dread to ask why. But why?"

"Well, I still have your underwear." He looked at her, "Thought you might need a new pair, Gigi dear."

George looked at him in disbelief for a moment, "Yeah, well maybe you need a nee penis, because I still have your virginity!" That came out a little louder than intended. A few faces turned in their direction. As usual, George ignored them. "Your girl virginity."

"It was a social experiment! If I was gonna have sex with a girl, I didn't want it to be with some HIV invested creeper while I was passed out on the sidewalk or something!"

"It's a pavement! And well, maybe I'm a HIV infested creeper, who knows!" She grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the store (even though he suggested it in the first place), "Let's go made weird remarks and ask awkward questions."

They looked at the world of bras and panties and other items around them, "Is it possible that there aren't any awkward questions to ask in this place?"

"Have you even met me? Have you met your fine self?" George asked, casually groping a nearby over the shoulder boulder holder, before removing it from the rack and taking it off its hanger, "If anyone can do it," She hooked it on over her head like a helmet. It only just stretched over her fedora,

"We can."

---

A few months later, and the birth was a success. The child was a happy bouncy baby boy. George happily handed his custody over to the chosen family, and they all seemed very happy together. She was glad she had chosen them, as they seemed like they would cherish the child and give him more care and attention than she ever could, at least at this stage in her life. Of course, Greg was fine with all of it. Even though he was the father, and he cared about the child, he wasn't exactly in the position to take care of a child either. That was really the definition of an unplanned pregnancy, but in the end, it turned out alright.

Greg and George were sat in a music room, and George was strumming lazily on her guitar. The Canadian watched her and then moaned loudly, making her abruptly stop. "Hey!"

"Play a song."

"What?"

"Play a song - that's what guitarists do."

"No kidding, asshat."

"Do you have an asshat?"

"No, not unless you count."

Greg shuffled in his chair, "Seriously, you're the infamous hat lady, you'll be stripped of your title if you are asshat-less."

George checked the guitar's tuning and didn't glance up, "I'll make your ass into a hat."

Before that could continue on, she began playing some chords. It was a simple song, Anyone Else But You by The Moldy Peaches*, but it was sweet.

"~You're a part time lover and a full time friend, the monkey on your back-"

"I don't have a monkey, why would I have a monkey?"

George continued, despite Greg's timely interruption, "-is the latest trend, I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else, but,

I kiss you on the brain ("On the brain? Ew.") in the shadow of a train, kiss you all starry-eyed my body swinging from side to side ("You drunk?"), I don't see what anyone could see, in anyone else, but,

Here is the church and here is the steeple, we sure are cute for two ugly people ("Ugly? You whore, I'm not ugly!"), I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else ("This is so repetitive, ugh!"), but,

Greg, I swear if you don't just shut up right now, I'll cut off both your balls and feed them to a cow ("They're probably not very nutritional. So don't do it."), I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else ("Ah, who am I kidding, you wouldn't flick a fly."), but,

I might be exaggerating but please, I bloody hate you right now more than moldy cheese ("Your rhyming levels just decreased."), I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else, but,

Doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo ("Ha, you can't think of anything anymore."), doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo ("Dude, how many doo doo's do you need to do?"), doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo doo,

Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, "b", "a",start, just because we use cheats doesn't mean we're not smart ("I don't cheat! And it's not exactly smart to tell someone you cheat."), I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else ("Also, moldy cheese? What have you got against cheese?"), but,

I don't cheat and yes, I'm not a big cheese fan, what part of shut up don't you understand? ("Someone's hormonal. I think you're just having penis envy.") I don't see what anyone can see in you ("You hurt my feelings, Gigi."), and,

You can keep your bloody peacock, I don't want it ("Good."), and suck it up, my friend, you little piece of shit ("I am not doing any sucking."), I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else, but,

Are you sure that you are still one hundred percent gay? Yeah, okay, alright, I get it, don't look at me in that way, you can't burn holes through my head with just your eyes you great steaming nit ("I can read your mind, though."), but,

I was totally gonna say something nice too, but holy crap this song was ruined 'cause of you ("You're the one singing! Don't pin the blame on me."), I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else, wait, yes I

Do do do do do do do do do do do ("Oh, clever."), do do do doo do do do do do do do ("Yup."), do do do do do do do do do do do do, fuck you.~"

George strummed the last chord after that battle of a song, and looked at the offended and insulted Greg. "Gigi, that was mean."

She re-adjusted her hat and clicked her tongue, "Then next time, don't interrupt my jam."

"I don't want anything to do with your jam."

"Good, I'm glad."

*This leads to a link of me singing what is written below - I just made it for fun xD you can listen if you want, it's not exactly necessary. <3

[Dr. Sean Neville]

Star Trek III: The Search for Spock (Sean)

Their quarters felt empty. Empty and cold and so large and dark that Josh felt he might get swallowed whole if he shut his eyes. He was ashamed to admit that he welcomed the thought; if he was dead, he wasn’t alone, living a meaningless life without the one person who had given him warmth and hope.

Everything reminded him of Sean. The Homer and Aristotle marble bookends that the telepath had bought him for his birthday years ago. The statue of the bear with a cub that Josh had bought him one shore leave. The tea set that Robert had given both of them as a wedding present. The ring on his left hand that seared into his skin and made his eyes tear every time he looked at it...

He blinked back the tears and curled onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow. Everything was sterile, and he cursed the air recycling system. It robbed him of Sean’s scent in the bed; instead, it smelled only of the rest of the ship, the all-too-clean scent of machinery and artificial atmosphere.

Don’t cry, Slim.

That familiar voice was low in his ear, and Josh jerked back abruptly. “Sean?”

I’m sorry that I made you sad. I never meant to hurt you.

Josh looked around their quarters, but he saw nothing in the dark but faint outlines in the shadows. Did he see movement? A familiar outline? He wasn’t sure. He also didn’t dare turn up the lights, for fear that the shadows would prove to be only shadows after all. “Where are you?” He asked, voice hushed.

With you. I’m always with you.

“You left me,” Josh protested, and the tears began to leak from his eyes.

Because I had to, not because I wanted to.

There was a long pause, and Josh was worried that he had offended Sean. He would be truly alone, with not even that well-loved voice to reassure him and keep him company.

Then he felt strong arms wrap around his waist, pulling him tightly into an embrace. Barely-there, ephemeral, but he was sure he felt them. I’m here with you now.

Tears freely streaked his cheeks. The feather-light touch of fingers on his face to brush them away. I will be here with you forever. I’ll never leave you again.

Josh’s head was guided back to the pillow, and the covers brought up around him, tucking him in tightly. “I love you,” he sobbed softly.

I love you too.

Despite the arms around him and the voice that echoed in his ears, their quarters still smelled too clean. But Sean whispered to him that everything would be fine, and that they needed to go home to Robert. It was so easy to listen to Sean; his husband would take care of him, just as he always had. And everything would be all right because Sean said so.

Alone in the dark, he no longer felt that their quarters would swallow him whole. Sean was with him, and that was all that mattered.

************************

“Commodore Strickland?”

“Yes?” Greg turned blue eyes on the security officer. The poor young woman had aged ten years this past month; they all had.

“There’s a disturbance in Doctor Neville’s quarters.”

Greg said nothing, which was an indication that he expected further information.

“The readings are off. Someone’s inside and-”

Josh. That was to be expected. “That’s fine, George. It’s only Mister Bernstein.”

“I know, Sir.” The relationship between the two senior officers was a matter of public knowledge. “But the readings have spiked; I think someone else is in there. Or Mister Bernstein is sick.”

Greg rose from the command chair, stepping around the bridge to peer over her shoulder at the console. Sure enough, the readings were off. Indicative of multiple people, and one of the machines measured esper levels that couldn’t possibly be accurate. Josh, like most of them, was psi-null. He frowned to himself.

“I’ll check it out. But I think the panel is broken. Everything else was damaged during the last battle; why shouldn’t it be too?”

“Yes, Sir.” Cadets weren’t taught to properly handle rhetorical questions from senior officers. Least of all from their Commanding Officer, from one of the High Brass.

“Mister Silverman, you have the con,” Greg called over his shoulder, before he stepped into the turbolift. If Josh had invited someone over to his quarters, the blond would refresh his memory about their arrangement. If he was sick...

They were only a day’s travel from Earth, even with their limping speed, confined as they were to sub-warp drive. As long as it wasn’t too serious, they would have access to medical attention soon. The cadets could do a patchwork job, but the sickbay was in no better condition than the rest of the ship.

It took almost no time to reach the familiar door. The Captain hesitated outside, reaching up to touch the nameplate. Commander Sean P. Neville, M.D. Beside it, Josh’s name and rank.

Greg entered his command override and waited for the doors to slide open; when they did, he stepped inside. “Josh?” He called into the darkness.

No answer.

Perhaps the younger man was asleep.

Greg felt a pang of guilt for interrupting Josh if he did happen to be asleep, since the younger man had been so haunted since his husband’s death. However, the Commodore had to investigate; even battle-weary and grieving his oldest friend, Greg had obligations and duties to fulfill.

Carefully, he crept forward, keeping the lights off for as long as he couldn’t. The outline of a person upright on the bed told him that, perhaps, Josh wasn’t asleep after all. “Josh?” He called again. “Are you okay?”

There was no reply.

The blond frowned to himself. “Josh?” He queried for a third time, as he ordered the lights to a slightly higher setting. Not enough to flood the room with brightness, but enough to provide him with some ability to see.

There, in the corner, was a figure, clouded in a shroud. With the lights brighter, the figure tried to flee, although the room provided little ability to do that.

Greg approached, reaching out to firmly yank the figure, and he found himself staring into the wild, blue eyes of Josh Bernstein. The younger man’s hair stuck out in all directions, and he had a few days’ worth of beard growth; overall, his disheveled state would bring shame and disrespect if the Commodore was anyone else, or if Josh had not lost the most important person in his life. “Josh, what the Hell are you doing?”

Again, no response. “Have you lost your mind?”

That question caused the younger man to blink, finally piercing through the shield of confusion. His voice was deeper, raspier than usual. “...help me, Greg. Take me home...”

“We’re almost home.”

Josh looked visibly relieved, and he breathed an audible sigh. “Then perhaps we still have time. Climb the steps, Greg...climb the steps of the Ridgeback Mountains.”

“The Ridgeback Mountains? Josh, the Ridgeback Mountains are on Mnemosyne; we’re on our way to Earth.”

The younger man blinked in non-comprehension. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, as though he had forgotten how to form words. Finally, he managed a single, ominous instruction, and his voice sounded so deep and calm – Sean’s voice, not Josh’s, “Remember.”

The next time he spoke, his voice had returned to its higher, raspy register. “Remember!” He implored, and then he slumped forward in the Commodore’s arms.

************************

Greg emerged from his friend’s quarters shaken and distressed. Rather than report back to the bridge, he took a detour to the sickbay. Since the entire intra-ship communication system was in need of repair, he had to physically seek out any given person, which complicated the situation by several magnitudes.

One more day.

“Doctor Jones?”

“Yes, Commodore?” The shorter, bearded man emerged from the back of the sickbay. To the side was Sean’s office, sealed away.

“Mister Bernstein is suffering from exhaustion and grief; it’s causing some erratic behavior. Do you think you can give him a sedative?”

Griffin Jones frowned to himself. “Did he request a sedative, Commodore?”

“No, but I think it’s in his best interest.” Then, before the medical officer could protest further, he added, “By all means, check him yourself, but I believe you’ll agree with me after you do.”

“If you say so, Commodore.” Griffin grabbed his medical kit and his bio-reader. “You want me to check him now?”

“The sooner, the better.” The Welsh doctor considered the urgency overkill, but he nodded to acknowledge Greg’s command and disappeared from the sickbay.

*****************************

Griffin had agreed with Greg’s assessment, and he had administered a sedative to the sobbing, bespectacled man.

The Welshman made his way up to the bridge, where he ignored the cadets around him, instead making a beeline for the command chair. “We should have a senior officers meeting,” he whispered.

That was what Greg had feared Griffin would say. “I’ll call it at shift change.”

******************************

Once back on Earth, the crew had been given a hero’s welcome, before scattering to their homes for the duration of their decompression and the ship refit. Greg invited his senior officers over for drinks and supper, although the mood was dampened by Sean’s and Josh’s absences.

“Where is Josh?” Danny asked, interrupting the silence that had descended upon the living room.

“At home, resting comfortably.” Greg shook his head to himself at the thought, but before he could continue, Griffin interrupted, “I sedated him before heading home from the hospital.”

Danny nodded solemnly, and the Welshman wrapped his arms around the other man’s shoulders. Cecil stood back and watched the other men, feeling a similar pang of pain.

The doorbell rang, interrupting the solemn mood. “That must be Cobalt and Ben,” Greg announced, and he set his glass down before walking to the door.

When the door slid open, neither Cobalt Weaver nor Benjamin Rhodes stood on the other side. Instead, Greg found himself staring into the weathered and severe face of Robert Hopkins. “We need to talk,” the white-haired man declared with such finality that Greg couldn’t conceive of disagreeing. Instead, he invited Robert inside to stand awkwardly in his living room.

“We should go now,” Danny announced, and he took Griffin’s hand in his. “Thank you for having us,” he added, as the two men slipped through the front door. Cecil followed behind them, which left Robert and the Commodore alone in the finely-decorated apartment.

“Would you like a drink?”

Robert waved his hand, refusing. Before Greg could begin small talk, he cut to the chase. “Can you imagine the pain and the humiliation of learning of your son’s death in a news briefing?”

“No insult was meant, Ambassador.” Inwardly, Greg marveled at the older man’s ability to make him feel like a small child. Him! Commodore Gregory Strickland, someone as highly decorated and widely respected as he was. How could Josh have stood having such a man as his in-law?

Robert narrowed his eyes, and, chastised, Greg abandoned that train of thought. “The situation was chaotic, and far too much was lost in the aftermath.” That was true. They had tried to gather the cadets to calm them, and, as it was, half had to be treated for PTSD. “However, I can assure you that Sean died a hero’s death.”

“I wouldn’t care if he had died a coward, rocking back and forth in a fetal position. I would still want official notification so that I could receive his body.”

Greg’s expression became rueful. “I’m sorry, Ambassador, but we couldn’t take his body back with us.”

“...you left him behind?”

“I had no choice.”

“How could you have done that him? How could you have done that to Joshua?”

“Josh is fine.” Perhaps not fine. In fact, his behavior was downright disconcerting, but the Commodore puffed up at the notion that he had done something to his closest friends, rather than doing whatever he had been able to manage for them. Even if that had fallen short of what he would have liked.

It kept him up at night.

Again, Robert narrowed his eyes, making it clear that he did not trust Greg’s assessment. “I went to their home and there was no answer.”

“He’s emotionally and physically exhausted, and so he’s asleep.”

Robert shook his head, obviously displeased. He turned and began to pace across the length of the room lapsing into discomforting silence that lasted for several minutes. Finally, he turned to stare at the window and broke that silence. “You missed the point then and now. Only his body was in death, Commodore.”

Greg blinked in non-comprehension. They had discussed Josh a moment ago, and while he knew that Robert meant Sean, it remained an awkward segue. “Pardon?”

“Only his body was in death.”

Unlike Josh, who spent shore leave and holidays on Mnemosyne, the Commodore had never had cause to spend any extended period of time with Robert Hopkins. For the first time, he realized that some of Sean’s behaviors might have been inherited. Because of that, he adopted the same tactic he had used with his friend. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Evidently.” Robert’s voice held neither contempt nor malice. “A telepath does not cease to exist when his body dies. His very essence, what you might call his soul, can survive in the mind of a trusted loved one until brought home. Our death rituals require the deceased vessel and the essence so that Sean can achieve eternal peace.”

Greg blinked again. He knew of the mysticism of the Telepathic Order. One couldn’t serve with a telepath, couldn’t be friends with a telepath, and fail to know that much. He had observed more than enough over their decades of service together. Still, he wasn’t sure that he followed. “And Josh?”

“Joshua was his spouse; he would be the traditional choice.” Robert’s voice grew softer, “If I know my son, he would have entrusted himself to nobody else.”

The Ambassador then shook his head as though to clear it. “Has Joshua behaved erratically since Sean’s death?”

“He spent most of the time in mourning,” Greg admitted. He did not want to detail how often the younger man had wept openly, since he knew that Josh considered his loss of composure shameful. Even if none of his friends judged him – after all, he had lost his spouse and his closest friend – the Commodore could not shake the feeling that to admit that would be to betray a confidence.

As he had been speaking to a powerful telepath, such concerns proved moot. “Beyond weeping?”

“Well... the blond man’s voice trailed off. Rather than speak of it aloud, he thought it, as clearly as possible.

The Ambassador heard, and he frowned, shaking his head again. “One alive and one not, yet both in pain.”

“What do you mean?”

The Ambassador’s expression grew momentarily sad. “Telepaths typically don’t marry outside of the Order for a reason. I married for love, and I encouraged Sean to do the same, but there are drawbacks. Joshua’s mind is untrained, undisciplined, and he is unprepared for long-term exposure to an essence as powerful as Sean’s.”

“Wouldn’t their bond help?”

“Their bond is the only protection they have. I fear it will not be enough. Without intervention, Joshua will lose his sanity, permanently.”

Greg still did not think he fully understood. However, he had followed enough to know that he had to help his friends. “What must I do?”

“You must bring them to the Ridgeback Mountains – on Mnemosyne. Only there is the passage possible. Only there can they both find peace, otherwise, all is lost.”

Greg couldn’t allow that to happen. “What you ask is difficult, but I’ll find a way to bring them home.”

The Ambassador had expected such a proclamation. “I know you will. And, if you will allow me to do so, I will begin making arrangements.”

*******************************

Josh had woken, and he felt lonely, tired, and out of sorts. As much as part of him wanted to remain beneath the covers of the bed that he had once shared with his husband and never emerge, another part of him realized that he had responsibilities.

That part won the internal battle, primarily because Sean’s gentle voice reminded him of the necessity.

Soon enough, Josh was up and dressed, although not shaven, on his way to Derek Seong’s Galactic Palace.. There were better bars out there, certainly better maintained ones (Abe’s came to mind), but Derek’s served a particular role in the community. Specifically, if someone required access to an extra-legal avenue, someone at Derek’s had the ability to do that – either by themselves or because they knew someone who knew someone who had access to back channels.

Unfortunately, Josh had never needed anything through back channels before, certain types of liquor notwithstanding, and so he hadn’t the faintest idea how to go about this.

As always, the Galatic Palace was noisy, poorly lit, and smelled of smoke. There were more people than he could see, dancing, talking, drinking, and milling about. How was he supposed to do this?

Look for Henri Rosario, Sean’s voice guided him.

“Who?”

The one who looks a bit like me.

Josh scoped the main room, seeing nobody that matched Sean’s description. The mean age of the patrons here was easily three decades younger than the telepath had been, and Josh felt so out of place.

Then, as he moved towards a back room, the breath caught in his throat.

Seated there, he found a man in his early twenties who looked so much like Sean during their first mission that Josh did a double-take. Similar haircuts, similar coloring, although this young man’s build was far smaller, and shorter; sitting, he appeared at least a head shorter than the telepath had been. His face was rounder and more boyish than Josh remembered Sean at that age, and his skin was smoother. Still, the resemblance was there.

He tried to appear inconspicuous as he approached the younger man, despite sticking out like a sore thumb. There were some other, younger Fleet members there, who surely didn’t have a drawer filled with medals and commendations back home.

“Henri Rosario?”

The younger man looked up, scrutinizing Josh’s face. “Yes?”

“I was told you might be able to help me with something.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“What? Of course not.” Josh blinked in baffled concern. Yes, his plans were illegal, but surely nobody thought that he would engage in a sting operation.

“My apologies.” Henri’s tone undermined his words. “It isn’t every day that I’m approached by someone as illustrious as Commander Bernstein from the Vermont.”

Such recognition was the downside of having a drawer filled with medals and commendations back home. “This is personal. But I’m told that you have connections to charter a ship.”

“I can do that...for a price.”

“Credits are no concern.”

Henri smiled. “Then, I say ‘welcome, friend.’”

Josh smiled as well, although his was both smaller and more nervous than the younger man’s. Sean’s voice in his ear told him to calm himself. “How much and how soon?”

“How soon is tonight. How much is where.”

“Where?”

“Yes. Where?”

“...somewhere in the Mutara Sector.”

“The Mutara Sector is illegal.” Yet Henri’s smile widened. “That will cost more, because we’ll need more permits.”

“There aren’t going to be any permits!” Josh then cringed at his outburst and looked around the room to assure himself that nobody had overheard him. Nobody had turned; nobody paid them any attention. Caution made him lower his voice, as he asked, “How can you get permits to do something illegal?”

“You name the place, and I name the price. Otherwise, we have no deal.”

“All right.” Josh sighed in resignation. “The name of the planet is Genesis.”

“Genesis?!” Henri’s eyes widened in shock. “Genesis is forbidden.”

Josh knew that. He reached out to place his arms on the younger man’s shoulders. “It might be forbidden, but I still need-”

The conversation was interrupted by a young woman in civilian clothing. He sidled up beside both men, placing herself between them. “Sir...I’m sorry, but your voice is carrying. I don’t think you want to discuss this in public.”

“I’ll discuss what I like!” The indignation rose in Josh’s chest, coupled with the panic and the same sense of urgency. He had to go! He had to get to Sean by any means necessary. His husband’s voice was suspiciously absent in this crucial moment, which only filled him with greater concern. What if their connection was fading?

Only after a long moment of her staring into his face did he think to ask, “Who are you?”

She did not answer that question. “Can I offer you a ride home, Commander Bernstein?”

Josh’s frustration boiled over, and he stared at her in disbelief. “Why would you offer me a ride home? If I wanted a ride home, would I be trying to charter a space flight?”

Henri glared at him, emitting a low growl of irritation. Both Josh and the young woman ignored him.

“How do I know who I am?”

“Federation Security, Sir.” She flashed her badge, identifying her as Alena Milosz.

Panic rose in the older man’s chest. This was bad. This was an extremely problematic situation that could hardly end well. He wished that Sean was here; his husband always knew how to handle situations like this. Sean had all of the diplomatic skills, and he had his mental powers to back them up in a tight spot. Josh had none of that.

Instead, Josh fell back on the skills that he did possess.

Specifically, he ran.

Chaos ensued.

Josh had no reason to think that he could actually escape. The club was cramped and enclosed, designed in such a way as to avoid such activities. People and tables and chairs all blocked his path. As he ran, he knocked over a tray of glasses, which landed on a patron, and which caused that person to flail in surprise. They hit someone else in the nose, and then a brawl soon broke out.

In the midst of this, the woman caught up with him and trapped him against a wall.

Trapped and unsure of what else to do, Josh reached out to touch her face. The action mimicked what Sean would do when he tried to get a read on someone before using his powers to nudge them.

The woman shook her head sadly. “You’re going to get a nice, long rest, Commander.”

*********************************

Over the course of only a couple of days, Greg had pulled every string he could, but nobody in the Brass would listen to him. After a last call to one of the Admirals, during which he had been flatly denied, he sighed in resignation and went to meet with Cecil and Ben.

“What’s the word, Sir?”

“The word is ‘no,’” Greg replied with a shake of his head. “I am therefore going anyway.”

Cecil and Ben nodded in agreement.

**********************************

Cobalt accompanied Greg to the hospital, although he did not enter the building. Josh had been placed on observation for the mandatory 72-hour period. While he had instigated no further fights and his behavior appeared less erratic, he had also failed to instill confidence in his sanity.

Despite his reputation as a gregarious and approachable person, he had not attempted to interact with anyone in the facility. He barely acknowledged the medical staff, except when he begged them to set him free. He huddled on his cot for hours each day, and he talked to himself. More than once, he’d wept openly.

Nobody knew what to do with him, primarily because nobody knew what was wrong with him. Whatever it was, Josh obviously lacked stability.

As he had for most of his time since commitment, he lay huddled on his cot, arms around himself in a self-soothing embrace.

The door slid open, allowing voices to permeate the silence around him.

“You’ve got a visitor, Commander.” Xun Jinsong, the orderly, informed him. Then, to the visitor, he remarked, “Make it quick. They’re going to send him to the funny farm.”

“Yes, poor S.O.B. I hear he’s nutty as a fruitcake.”

With that, the orderly left, providing the two men with some semblance of privacy. Immediately, the visitor crossed to the cot, kneeling down beside it.

Josh lifted his head, turning to face himself face-to-face with Commodore Strickland. “Greg-”

“Shh.” The blond man brought one finger to his lips. “Save your strength. We need to get you out of here.” With his other hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe. “You need to take this.”

The younger man furrowed his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Sean did something before he died; I don’t know how to explain it. Ambassador Hopkins-”

Although Josh had begun to sob at the mention of his husband’s name, his eyes flew open wide at the mention of his father. “Robert knows?”

“He had Griff fill the prescription. “

Josh sighed and leaned back on the bed. This was a mess. “What happens after we escape?”

“We’re going to Mnemosyne. I’ll explain en route.” The Commodore fiddled with the syringe for a moment, and then directed his friend, “Hold out your arm. I’ll try to be gentle.”

****************************

Cobalt checked his wrist chronometer, counting under his breath. “...seven...six...five...” When he reached zero, he stepped onto the turbolift and asked for the observation wing.

Upon reaching that level, he stepped out, affected the most urgent expression he could, and dashed out. “Where’s Commodore Strickland?”

A security guard manned the front booth, barring entry to anyone who might want to cross without authorization. Beside him sat the orderly, reviewing schedules. The orderly didn’t look up as he answered, “He’s with the patient.”

“Get him quickly. The Fleet needs him for an urgent manner. I can’t provide anything further; it’s classified” Cobalt made a show of catching his breath, to make it appear as though he had run here the entire way, rather than having spent the past ten minutes calmly outside the building watching the seconds tick away.

They fell for it. The orderly rose from the desk and disappeared into the ward proper. This left Cobalt alone with the security guard, a young man with dark hair too wild and pointy for military work. The guard stretched, setting his feet up on the desk, as there was nobody to stop him. His supervisor would not come around until right before shift change, and that was several hours away.
Cobalt inwardly rolled his eyes at the lack of professionalism. If someone tried that at a real post, or on a ship, then the thought would never cross their minds. Unable to hold his tongue, he sarcastically asked, “So they keep you busy here?”

“Shut up, Tiny.”

Inwardly, Cobalt seethed. It took every ounce of self-control to keep from lashing out. They had a plan. Josh needed him to stick to plan. For Josh, he could do that.

************************

Back in Josh’s holding cell, the orderly arrived. “Commodore?” He called, as he opened the door. “The Fleet is looking for you; they say there’s an emergency, but I wasn’t given details.”

By that time, Greg had moved to stand in the middle of the room again. He looked over at the orderly as he entered, and he affected a panicked expression. “I think my friend is sick,” he said, gesturing at Josh who had doubled over on the cot. For his part, Josh emitted a low moan of pain.

Concerned, the orderly approached the cot, passing Greg in the process. The blond man took this opportunity to punch the orderly in the back of the head. It took only another moment before the orderly was in a sleeper hold, and then gently lowered to the floor to be discovered by his coworkers later.

The Commodore then crossed back to Josh’s beside, stepping over the unconscious orderly. He offered his friend his hand. “Can you stand?”

“I think so.” The younger man, with Greg’s support, pushed himself to his feet. He took an unsteady step, and, finding that he retained his balance, nodded. “I’m fine.”

“Then let’s go. We don’t have much time.”

**********************

The sound of footsteps in the hallway, followed by a security alarm caused the guard to pull his feet from the desk and assume a ready position. He crossed to the door, before he reached keypad, the door slid open, revealing Greg and Josh.

The guard demanded, “What’s going on here?”

Cobalt took that opportunity to clock him with his laser pistol. The guard fell to the floor, landing face down. He would probably have a concussion when he woke up.

“Was that necessary?” Josh asked.

“Don’t get started,” Cobalt said, and then he gestured in the direction of the storage units. “There’s a side lift there; we should take that in case they’re looking for us at the main exit.”

“Good thinking.” Greg led Josh in that direction, not stopping to look over his shoulder.

Cobalt remained behind for an additional moment. In that time, he shot out all of the security cameras, watching as they exploded into a mass of metal, wires and sparks. Puffing up with self-satisfaction, the mustachioed man turned on his heels, took two steps, and promptly tripped over the prone security guard. He glared at the man’s unconscious body and muttered, “And don’t call me ‘Tiny’,” before he hurried out to follow his friends.

********************************

Aboard the repair station, Danny Silverman had been working under cover of darkness to make changes to the security grid. He had only limited time in which to complete this task, and, while he was always happy to have Griff with him, the task would have been easier with another engineer.

Still, they worked as hard as they could, both to override security codes for their ship, as well as to make the changes to the rest of the Fleet. Not permanently, of course, but they had a slim window of opportunity, and they had to do whatever they could to widen it. Josh was counting on them.

Danny’s comm. went off. “Unit One is en route.”

“Acknowledged. Unit Three is almost ready and will meet at the rendezvous point.” Danny then turned to look at Griff. “We need to be out in five. Hand me the laser drill.”

Six minutes later, they had snuck out of the repair station mainframe, and they were on their way to the rendezvous point.

***********************************

Cecil sat at a transporter station, appearing utterly focused on his work. Despite certain reputations to the contrary, he had excellent multi-tasking skills, and he could act when he wanted to. When the hourly check occurred, he replied, “Roger. All is well,” without looking up from the panel.

His companion, a fresh-faced lieutenant junior-grade named Oriel Vanguard, stared at him with a mixture of awe and pity.

“Something on your mind, Lieutenant?” Cecil asked, although he did not lift his head.

“I can’t figure you out, Commander.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Oriel scoffed, making it plain that he had not intended his remark as such. “You’re a veteran with two decades of service under your belt. Your ship’s missions are taught at the Academy! Most people would kill for half of your commendations, and yet you asked to be assigned to this post, even if it’s temporary. It’s the worst assignment they have while still remaining near Earth, and I just don’t get it.”

“We all need a break sometimes, Lieutenant. Peace and quiet can be appealing in their own right. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“No!” Oriel shook his head so fast that Cecil thought that the young man might give himself whiplash. “That might be okay for someone whose closer to retirement than their glory days, but not for me. I thrive on adventure and challenges and surprises. I wish I had more of those.”

“Be careful what you wish for Lieutenant.” With that ominous warning, Cecil returned his full attention to his work.

Ten minutes later, the door slid open to reveal Greg and Cobalt, holding Josh steady between them. Cecil did not turn around, although he greeted them all the same. “Hello, Gentlemen.”

“Hello, Commander.” Formalities were part of the illusion. The three men made their way toward the transporter pods. “Is everything ready?”

“Of course, Commodore. Please, step into my parlor.” Cecil added that with a crooked grin.

Without further comment, Cecil’s three compatriots stepped passed the control panel, up onto the transporter pods. They paid the Lieutenant no attention, behaving as though Cecil was alone on shift.

Oriel gaped in amazement. “Commander, do you know who those men are?”

“Of course I do.” Cecil busied himself with entering coordinates.

“They’re some of the most famous men in the Fleet. That’s Commodore Strickland.”

“Well done, Lieutenant. You’ve earned those stripes.”

Oriel was concerned by how nonchalant the older officer behaved. “Don’t you think this is irregular? They haven’t shown any identification.”

“Why would they? You know who they are.”

“That’s not what I mean. They gave no destination coordinates, and Commander Bernstein looks ill. Shouldn’t we do something about it?”

By that point, Cecil had reached his fill of the younger man’s voice and attitude. He pulled out his phaser and, without changing his expression, whacked Oriel across the face with it. “I’m doing what I need to do. By contrast, you’re going to stifle yourself and get in the closet.”

Oriel hissed in pain and surprise. “The closet?!” Surely, the older man couldn’t be serious. Then again, Cecil now had his phaser trained on him, while sporting an expression of utter severity. “Have you lost all sense of reality, Commander?” Then he flinched, worried that Cecil would hit him again; perhaps mouthing off had been the wrong course of action.

Cecil exercised more restraint. “This isn’t reality; this is fantasy. Besides, didn’t you want adventure and surprises? Doesn’t this count? Are you not entertained?” He took a step forward, forcing Oriel backward if he wanted to avoid having the phaser in his chest. “I won’t ask you again. Get in the closet.”

“I...I...I’ll be going now,” Oriel conceded, as he backed up. He opened the closet door, folded himself, and then breathed a sigh of relief when it closed. It was cramped and dark, but at least now he had a barrier between himself and Cecil, who had clearly lost his mind.

“I’m glad you’re on our side,” Cobalt said with a twitch of his lips. That was as close to admiration as he came to expressing.

Greg had less humor about the situation. “Will you be able to handle everything back here?”

“I’ll have Mister Adventure eating out of the palm of my hand, don’t worry.” Cecil’s expression softened, as he promised, “I’ll see you at the rendezvous point, and I’ll be with you in spirit. May the wind be at your backs.”

With that, Cecil activated the transporter. With one last wave from his friends, they disappeared.

********************************

The three men arrived aboard the Vermont, where they met Ben and Danny.

Griffin, who had stayed with Danny until they reached safety at the rendezvous spot, had ducked out to meet with Ambassador Hopkins. Once Cecil had extricated himself from the launch point, the three of them would take advantage of diplomatic immunity to meet the rest of the crew at Mnemosyne.

However, Greg and Josh had an intermediate errand.

Danny smiled and stepped from the transporter panel. “As promised, she’s all yours, Commodore. Everything has been updated and tested, so she should run smooth and clean. Her engines and shields have extra power, since the Nevada won’t need it.” Danny smiled conspiratorially and dropped a handful of bolts and coils into Josh’s hand. “Souvenirs,” he explained.

Turning back to Greg, he added, “The ship can run on two hands.”

“Since that’s what we have, I’m glad of that.”

Danny shook his head. “I count five.”

Greg shook his head as well. “Josh and I have to make the trip; the rest of you don’t, and I can’t ask you to further risk your careers for this.”

“We’re losing precious time, Commodore,” Ben replied, and Cobalt quickly added, “I’d like to plan the course.”

“Say the word, Commodore, and I’ll fire up the engines,” Danny replied with a bigger smile.

Greg faltered, and Josh squeezed his shoulder. “Gentlemen...it’s an honor to serve with you all. Man your stations.”

*****************************

True to Danny’s word, the ship ran smoothly. The additional power boost had guaranteed that they could not be caught, the additional shields ensured that they survived the phaser and photon torpedo barrages, and whatever purposes those bolts and coils served, their absence had been keenly felt. The Nevada, despite being the new ship of the line and entrusted with gatekeeping, stopped dead in her tracks, power drained before they could engage impulse power.

In true Strickland style, they simply crashed the entrance barrier rather than enter override codes. Ben had been correct in that they were running out of time, and any second wasted was a second during which they might be caught.

Leaving the trail of destruction in their wake, the men would have to consider a new career path when all was said and done. However, those future plans were on nobody’s mind, save Josh’s, as they had to deal with the immediate problem: how to reach Genesis to recover Sean’s remains.

Cobalt piloted. Ben navigated. Danny tended to the engines. Greg commanded. Josh had been instructed to sit at Cecil’s communications panel, although they were to be blackout, nonresponsive to anyone until after they had left Genesis. With no real duties to hold his attention, Josh’s mind wandered.

Some part of me hopes you’ll fail, Sean admitted softly. His tone conveyed the deep shame he felt in saying those words. I don’t want to leave you; I don’t want to stay on Mnemosyne without you.

Josh startled and looked around to see if anyone else had heard those words. His friends appeared distracted by their tasks, utterly unaware of Sean’s presence.

From what little Greg had explained to him, this was normal. He wished that Sean had explained all of this before dying.

I’m sorry. His husband’s apology came quickly and without hesitation. I should have tried harder to explain, but you wouldn’t let me talk you out of marrying me.

Josh’s breath caught in his throat and his heart pounded heavily. “I would have married you anyway.” Even with this chaos, with the fact that he was slowly losing his mind, he wouldn’t have traded a moment of his marriage to the telepath. Surely...surely Sean knew that.

“Did you say something, Josh?”

The bespectacled man looked up and saw Greg staring at him with deep concern etched into his features. Apparently, he’d made that protest aloud.

He offered a shaky smile of reassurance. “I’m fine.”

That was a lie, but lies were all that he could offer. Lies were the least he could do for his friends, who had saved him from institutionalization and who had risked their futures to take him to Genesis, so that he could reunited with his husband.

Not his husband, his husband’s corpse.

The thought caused a lump to rise in his throat. On some level, he admitted to himself, he hoped they failed as well. He didn’t think that he could bear to look into Sean’s lifeless face again.

Josh felt a hand touch his, squeezing his fingers in reassurance. Looking down, he saw nothing. Instead, he clasped his hands in his lap and watched the stars pass on the view screen, as they flew towards Genesis, Sean’s remains, and an uncertain future.

[Deleted]

The Breakfast Club
Trigger: Strong language, implications of sex and sex abuse, racist comments

Saturday, June 26, 2014. Hammel Institute, High School Division, Pilot Ridge, Vermont, 05489. Dear Mr. Deulane, We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong.

Gregory Mckenzie sighed as got off the phone with his step-father, a man who was clearly not happy to hear about the screw ups that Greg had managed which landed him at the school while everyone else was busy enjoying their weekend. The boy had an athletic scholarship waiting for him and he needed to be able to attend practices and games to get that scholarship. And he couldn’t go to the games if he was a troublemaker. Greg already knew he messed up, he didn’t need to read anybody’s mind to know that. But even so, everyone around him still felt like they had to say it out loud to the telepath.

What we did *was* wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are.

He looked around as a small herd of students began slowly trickling towards the main school building, both from the dorms and from the parking lot. He knew them. That is, he knew them by name, and name only.

What do you care? You see us as you want to see us - in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions.

It was a strange lot. Many he couldn’t fathom a reason for why they would have been pulled for the same punishment as he. It’d be easy enough to read their minds….

Greg decided to keep his thoughts to himself. At least for now. He shouldered his backpack and headed inside to the classroom.

You see us as a brain…

As he walked through the nearly empty, quiet halls, it was nearly impossible to keep out the thoughts of a Mr. Neo Harris, straggling in behind him. He was upset because this whole day was going to be a waste of time. It would have been better if they’d at least made this a study hall day. Then at least he could be productive.

An athlete…

Greg smirked. “What does a guy like you have to do to land themselves in detention?” He was trying to be friendly. But Neo just scowled at him. Oops, maybe he hit a sore spot? The two entered into the classroom. They weren’t the first to arrive. Greg continued to keep a friendly face.

Even after another guy rudely rushed past him and Neo, bumping shoulders with them both.

A basket case…

“Hey!” Greg called out, but the blonde boy in the ugly plush jacket, Salem Hirsch, didn’t respond and merely scuttled his way to the farthest corner of the room, clutching his bag to his chest and sitting facing the opposite direction of…well, everyone else.

Greg shrugged it off. The weird didn’t need his attention anymore, especially not when there were better looking people to hold it.

A princess…

“May I?” he asked as he rounded one of the desks next to the pretty little thing in the front.

Phoenix Seong blinked up awkwardly to the jock with the strong jawline. “Uh…yeah. That’s fine,” he said with a nod, his long hair swaying slightly with the movement before settling again to perfectly frame his face. The Korean boy’s bottom lip stuck out with both worry and petulance.

“Hi,” Greg started. May as well get to know the cutie, right? “I’m Greg. I think we have bio together, rig—“

BAM!

Halfway through Greg’s introduction came a loud bang as the school thug rammed his fist against the door as he passed through it.

And a criminal.

Oriel Vanguard looked to the rest of the students with a sneer, pleased with how many he’d startled from that. “What? Scared?” he mocked.

Correct?

Oriel stalked forward through the center of the room, darting his eyes from one person to the next, before finally fixing them on Neo. He snorted and jerked his thumb, giving the nerd exactly one second to remove his rump from his chair, before he would’ve forced the guy to eat the floor. Oriel cackled when Neo did exactly as he wanted without a word…though not without a look of disdain.

That's the way we saw each other at 7:00 this morning. We were brainwashed.

It was a few more minutes before supervisor for this session, Mr. Adam Deulane, would show up. Everyone here knew him. He was a dick in their eyes. Well, in his, they were just a bunch of stupid kids, weren’t they?

“Well, here we are. Congratulations, everyone for being on time,” Mr Deulane said with an air of sarcasm in his voice. He looked around the room, expecting someone to speak up, trying to defend their case. There was always someone, wasn’t there? Like maybe the school “princess” who never did anything wrong and always hid behind his doctor-for-a-father’s money.

No one spoke up.

“Hey!!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, granting far more jumps from the sheer volume of his voice than Oriel had gotten with a mere prank. Everyone looked up from their smart-phones with wide eyes. “Put! Those things away!” he ordered. “I don’t want to see them! I don’t want to hear them!”

“Then what are we supposed to be doing here all day?” Neo asked with an open handed gesture. “Just sit here and stare at the wall?”

“That’s right. For the next,” Adam looked at his watch, “Eight hours and fifty-four minutes, you will sit here and think about why you’re here. To ponder the error of your ways. You may not talk. You will not move from these seats. And you!” He pointed at Oriel, who had already stared leaning back in his chair and against the desk behind him. “Will not sleep!” Oriel slowly straightened his chair and glowered up at him, holding back his tongue…for once.

“If you must do something productive, then you will write. An essay of no less than a thousand words. On ‘who you think you are’. And I mean a real essay, with words and sentences, not just a single word repeated a thousand times.” He glared over at Oriel, who just rolled his eyes. “That means you, Mr. Vanguard,” he said with a point of his finger. Oriel mouthed nonsensical words, mocking him.

Adam stepped back to the front of the room after passing out a supply of paper and pencils for the five students. “Now my office is right across the hall. Any monkey-business is ill-advised.” He panned a last look around the room. “Any questions?”

“Yeah, I got a question!” Oriel spoke up, raising his hand like a “proper” student. “Does Barry Manilow know that you raid his wardrobe?”

“I’ll give you the answer to that question, Mr. Vanguard, next Saturday,” he replied with a scowl. These kids and their mouths.

Oriel shut his with a scowl of equal disdain. This fucking asshole just liked to dish out detentions like candy, didn’t he? What the hell was that supposed to solve anyway?

Aside from a few mumbles and transient sounds(such as finger tapping and excessively loud nail biting), there was a long, awkward silence following Mr. Deulane’s exit before anyone finally said anything.

Even against Mr. Deulane’s direction to “not talk”.

“I can’t believe this is really happening to me….” Phoenix mumbled with a slight shake in his voice. He was mortified that he’d actually gotten in trouble enough with something to warrant detention. And even more appalled that his daddy, one of the most prominent doctors at the hospital down in Burlington, hadn’t lifted a finger to get him out of it. Just a dumb promise to “make it up to him later”. Phoenix quivered his lower lip in a dramatic display for sympathy.

“Oh hey!” Oriel spoke up, as if to purposely interrupt the Princess’ dramatic act. “The fuck’re we s’pposed to do if we gotta piss, huh? Just go in the floor? Trash can?” Oriel sneered over at the effeminate cutie. “Or maybe you’ll just take it in the mouth, huh?” Everyone knew that the pretty little Phoenix was a fucking tease. And a slut. Oriel unzipped his jeans.

“Hey, Pube-face,” Greg turned in his seat to face Oriel. “You whip it out here and I’ll make sure you’re eating that thing yourself, understand?”

Oriel twisted his grin even more. “You know, you’re fucking sexy when you’re angry.” He let out a low, seductive growl and licked his teeth. Oriel turned to the nerd. “Oy, ‘homie’, why don’t you close the door so we can “take our time” with the Prom Queen here.” He laughed as he stared down the “meek” Asian boy. “Bet he’d even let us take turns.”

“Oh shut up, Curly-Q, before I invite your face to a meeting with my fist.” Greg didn’t mind bouncing insults off this guy, but that was just him. The quiet boy next to him didn’t deserve that kind of mouth.

Oriel deadpanned a stare at the Brady Boy and his lameness. “Hope you don’t break a nail, hunny,” he said, his voice soaked with sarcasm.

“C-could you two please stop?” Phoenix finally spoke up for himself, his face slowly turning red. “I don’t really wanna hear what you…think…”

“Yeah, hear that?” Greg continued to defend Phoenix. “Buttface.”

“Guys, I think maybe we should just write our papers,” Neo finally spoke up, hoping to be an intervention. Barely anyone paid attention.

In the meantime, Oriel continued to be a “buttface”. “So….you two…you’re fucking right? I mean the school jock and the prom queen, that’s s’pposed to be what happens, right?” He snickered, leaning in further, hoping to get a rise from either of them…or both. “Just tell me…which one of you spread ‘em first? Or do you switch it up? Heh, bet the big bad jock likes it up the—“

“ENOUGH!” “STOP IT!!” Both of them shouted at the same time. Phoenix was shivering. Greg was fuming.

“I SAID NO TALKING!!” An enraged voice from across the hall had them all stunned into silence once again.

This was going to be a long day….

—————————

And indeed it was a long day. One that never seemed to end. In fact, it seemed to take the whole day just to get through half of it. Sure there were moments of mild amusement, like when Oriel fiddled with the door to make sure it wouldn’t stay open and couldn’t be propped open(that was a relief, because none of them wanted Mr. Deulane hovering around out there, listening in to the conversations they weren’t supposed to have), but the minutes just seemed to drag on.

And the cost of their privacy was enough to even have Phoenix feeling sorry for the so-called “criminal”. But what did Oriel care? What did it matter if he got all his detentions piled on him at once, or slowly over the course of the year? Seriously, what was the difference between seven and seventeen? And between now and then, no doubt Mr. Deulane would have found another reason to hold the troublesome boy.

Phoenix looked up at Oriel from his seat, watching as the ink-manipulator smeared his fingers over the pages of one book which had been left behind in the classroom. It was…something Phoenix wished he had the guts to do. It brought a small smile to his face.

Greg, however, was unamused. “Yeah, that’s real intelligent,” he snapped as he paced in front of the thug. Even if you wanted to do that, that was still destruction of school property. It was wrong.

“Right, ‘cause reading is so fucking fun,” he said “sincerely”. “I mean, I just love jacking it to…” He turned the book to the front, trying to read the leftovers of what he’d already spoiled. “‘Mo-lay’…” The fuck kind of name is that?

Phoenix’s shy smile grew. “I think, it’s, um…Moly-aire….” He blinked his dark almond eyes up to the long haired boy. He was funny, for all his faults.

“Actually, it’s Moliére, I like his work. It’s pretty good.” Neo spoke up from his “seat” on top of one of the desks. Oriel chucked the book at him.

“Don’t fucking matter, ain’t nothing better to do when you’re locked in cell, right?” Oriel snorted, looking around for another book to trash. Or just…something to do.

“Whatever…” Greg said with a shake of his head. Instead he turned to the meek Phoenix. “So…are you doing anything tonight? Maybe we could hang out?”

Phoenix shrugged, his smile dropping slightly. “Maybe. I dunno if my dad will let me. He’s…pretty strict, y’know? And my mom, she just goes with whatever he says.” At his house, Daddy Derek’s word was Law. So if he said no, Phoenix couldn’t hope to go anywhere for a long time. He looked down, the smile still lingering. “I think he only really cares about tellin’ people what they can an’ can’t do…” When was the last time his dad actually looked at Phoenix as a person?

Oriel scoffed. “What’s this? The little Prince complaining about his Daddy issues? Let me guess,” Oriel leaned in. “He touched you in the bad place again. Poor sweetie needs a hug now.”

“No!” Phoenix protested with disgust.

“Just shut up, Dick-face! That isn’t funny!” And wasn’t even true! Greg was quickly losing his patience with this asshole.

“Why not?” Oriel stood up, challenging the Dorky-Face. “You have the same issues? With your mommy and daddy? Bet that’s why you sympathize so much, am I right, Twinkle Toes?”

“Why don’t you just come off it? You’re only talking shit because you’re jealous!” Greg countered, stepping up to face the curly-haired jackass. Oriel didn’t have to know how Greg knew that, but if he kept this up, Greg wasn’t going to hold back anymore.

Oriel barked out a loud, boisterous laugh. “Why the fuck would I be jealous!? You two obviously got shit parents.” Oriel circled around the Brady Boy, looking between him and the Miss America. “In fact, I bet you got the same parents. It’s why you’re so into each other, right? Got the forbidden, incestuous lust going on there.” It all made sense now! He continued his droning cackle, backing away from Greg and swinging a hand towards Neo. “In fact, I’ll bet that Nerd-Boy-Wonder over here is the only one with the classic, and ironic mind you, white-middle-class-American-family.” It was so sweet, it almost brought a tear to his eye. “Congratulations, hunny. You’re a real boy now!” Oriel pouted, looking down at the fuming Neo.

“Yeah, well, you know what?” Greg started, taking a stand against Oriel’s harassment. “At least we have parents.” Greg tossed the words out like a knife, his glare to the orphan boy just as sharp. “Yours didn’t even want you, so they just left you somewhere. Like in the old days, on a doorstep to be taken care of by random strangers.” Oriel stopped and stared at Greg, not believing what he was hearing. “Except in this case, not even the strangers wanted to keep you. Isn’t that right?” Greg really didn’t want to have to use his telepathic powers for such a low move, but Oriel had gone too far.

Oriel grit his teeth and breathed hard through his nose. “Yeah, well ‘you know what’?” Oriel repeated with a condescending sneer. “FUCK YOU!!” he screamed. Oriel had nothing else. He backed away from Greg. And the others. Shit…he just needed to get out of here…but there was no where else to go. So he took out his sudden rage on a row of desks, pushing them and flipping them to the side of the room. Oriel took a hard seat on the back counter, facing away from the group.

Everyone else in the room had grown silent.

Phoenix bit his lip and turned slightly to Greg. “You shouldn’t’ve said that….” he muttered.

“I know,” Greg sighed.

———————

Lunchtime had come, at long last. Greg was…hungry. Yup, he could eat. Boy he could eat. And even if he didn’t feel like volunteering for it, it was still somewhat of a relief to get out of that classroom and run the errand of getting drinks for the small gang of “troublemakers”. It felt good to stretch his legs…and breath. After that last fight, it had gotten quite tense in the room…for quite a while.

It was just weird, having to do this with this Salem person. Not that Greg had anything against the blonde boy, just that the boy himself was a bit strange. He always seemed to be following something around with his eyes. Like he could see something there that nobody else could. At first Greg though maybe it was drugs. Salem had spoken all of one word the entire 4 hours they’d been there already. And always seemed to be lost in his own little world in the back corner of the classroom.

Greg thought about taking a dip into the blonde’s mind just to see what was going on in there…but after the incident with Oriel, Greg decided to restrain himself.

“So…what’s your poison?” Greg asked Salem. Salem didn’t answer. “….forget I asked.” They walked a little bit further before Salem finally barked out a reply. “Vodka!” he announced.

“Vodka?” Greg repeated. “When do you drink vodka?” He couldn’t believe this guy. Weren’t they students? And underage? Well, Greg would be lying if he said he hadn’t drank before, but he knew better than to just go announcing it in school. “Whenever,” Salem said matter-of-factly.

It was silent for another moment before Greg pushed again. “Is that why you’re here today?” he asked. No answer. “Why are you here?” he tried again.

Salem snapped his towards the telepath. “Why are you here?” he repeated quickly, as if to play the shadow game like a child.

They stopped walking. Greg shrugged, a smile halfway up his face. “I’m here because….I have a free ride to college and my parents and my coach don’t want me to blow it. So, I gotta be able to play in the games. And show up to practices. Can’t do that if I’m in trouble.”

This was not the answer that Salem was looking for. He simply stared at the jock. “Uh-huh….that’s very interesting,” he said slowly, clearly not interested at all in the boy’s sob story with his parent. As if he actually had problems. “Now tell me why you’re really here.”

Greg shook his head. “Forget it.” He wasn’t going to play this game. Not with this…weirdo.

———————

The five of them sat around each other, in a circle of sorts, Oriel on the counter facing Phoenix seated down in one the the desks. Greg and Neo had turned their desks about so they could sit upon them. Salem was curled up on the counter as well and, for once, facing inward towards the group. It’d been quiet for a while. They were quickly getting board.

“So, what’s going to happen to us on Monday?” Neo broke the silence with a question that had all of them confused. “After today, I consider you guys my friends. We are friends, right?” Neo knew how he felt about these guys. Spending nine hours in a room with no one else to talk to had that kind of effect. And some of the things they’d talked about, some of the things they’d done, were things you only did with friends. Like getting high. Who knew that the pretty pristine kid, Phoenix, has such a hidden ability in his wings? Today was the first time that Neo had experienced something like that. And even though not all of these guys were people he’d normally hang out with, he’d grown to like them as he got to know them better and wouldn’t mind hanging out with them again.

But he might’ve been the only one who felt that way.

“Do you want the truth?” Phoenix asked softly, looking down as if ashamed of what he was going to say next. He shook his head as he looked up. “I don’t think so.” A silence fell over them as the harsh truth hit them. As messed up as it was, they all knew it was true. That didn’t mean any of them had to be happy about it.

“Phoenix, why would you say that?” Greg asked. “I wouldn’t—“

“Damn it, you really are a Princess, aren’t you?” Neo accused Phoenix, cutting off the jock-boy. “You and Greg wouldn’t even bother to say ‘hi’ to one of us if we met in the halls just so you wouldn’t look bad in front of your friends! You conceited bitch!”

“I’m not being conceited!” Phoenix protested, a desperation sounding in his voice. “I’m just telling the truth! You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t do the same in front of your friends!”

Neo shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what my friends think, and it shouldn’t matter to you. God, why are you so…you should be able to stand up for yourself and tell your friends that you’ll like whoever you want to like!” This hurt him a lot more than he thought it would. He didn’t like being told that he was going to be ignored just for the purpose of someone’s self-image.

“You guy’s don’t know what it’s like!” Phoenix tried to defend himself, tears starting to form in his eyes. “I don’t…I don’t really like doing all that stuff all the time…it’s just hard to….it’s a lot of pressure.”

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Oriel mocked, rolling his head back. “You’re life is so hard.”

Phoenix sniffled and looked up at the delinquent with hurt eyes. “And you. You’d do the same thing in front of all your friends. You wouldn’t be caught dead hanging around me and would just tell everyone that you were fucking me to explain it!”

“Don’t you dare compare your life and mine!” Oriel shouted, hopping off the counter to tower over the sitting boy. “Our lives are not the same, our friends are not the same! You don’t know any of us!!”

“Stop it you two!!” Greg yelled at them, standing to once again push Oriel away from the fragile Phoenix. Things were getting far too heated. Phoenix dipped his head, trying to keep the tears from falling.

Neo looked sullen for having brought it up. Guess he should have known better.

“I’d still talk to you guys,” Salem said suddenly in that out-of-the blue manner he’d been doing all day. Neo smiled, looking to the blonde with an approving nod. “Then, I guess Salem and I are better than the rest of you.” That was something at least. “You’d still talk to me in front of your friends?” he asked to confirm. Salem shrugged awkwardly. “I don’t have any friends. But….if I did, they’d be the kind that wouldn’t mind.”

Greg smiled to himself. How could something so sweet sound so sad at the same time? It really was dumb of them to not be friends after all this. Greg looked to the other two. At least the tension between the prince and the pauper had diminished.

—————————

“Hey Neo?” Phoenix asked with his usual meekness. “Are you still gonna write your essay?” He leaned in against his desk with a sweet smile. Neo nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, it’s kind of dumb for us all to write it, I think…I mean, we’re all going to say pretty much the same thing.” Phoenix shrugged, giggling to himself shyly. “It makes more sense if we just write one. And you’re the smart one.” He bat his eyes and pouted. “You’ll do it, won’t you?”

Neo chuckled, shaking his head, followed by a nod. “Yeah, sure. I’ll do it.” It’d be no problem for him. And it was a dumb assignment anyway. Neo snatched one of the papers that Mr. Deulane had passed out at the beginning of the class and started writing.

Dear Mr. Deulane, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you're crazy to make an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us - in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain...and an athlete...and a basket case...a princess...and a criminal...Does that answer your question?

Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club.

AND THEN THEY KISSED, THE END.