#oh and that charlie fixes Mac’s clothes as well as his own

[flying-ham]

one of my fav details about charlie is that he’s good at sewing and bc of that I like to think he fixes the edges and the stitching when mac cuts the sleeves off dennis’ old t shirts. I mean like are you really telling me mac was able to cleanly cut the sleeves off all his shirts without fucking it up

[livesincerely]

it’s beginning to look a lot like... ch. 2

Also on Ao3. Chapter one here.

00000

The Third Christmas

“You’re making the left side all crooked!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are, it’s all ugly and lopsided!”

“Well, maybe if you’d stop hogging all the blankets⁠!”

“Well, maybe if you’d shut your face⁠!”

Jack’s got one eye on the chaos currently taking place in the living-room-turned-construction-site, the other on the pot of Easy Mac he’s got working up on the stove. The boys are in the middle of building the Christmas Pillow Fort, though it’s been stop and start all morning, with the two of them pausing every few minutes to argue about how the other is doing it wrong. 

Jack only tried to intervene the once⁠—Tony and Charlie had called a temporary truce to team up against him instead, shooing him away with the explanation that he’s too lame and too tall to help and that ‘we’re not babies, Jack, we got it!’ Though, given that their efforts have since devolved into an impromptu pillow fight, with shouts of ‘you suck,’ ‘your face is stupid,’ and ‘because Jack said so!’ punctuated by the soft thuwmp of cushions hitting bodies, Jack thinks he can be forgiven for assuming they might’ve needed his help.

But all in all, this Christmas is looking to be one of the best ones yet, and certainly the best one that the boys can remember. Jack had finally turned sixteen at the beginning of the month, and though it was late in the season, he’d managed to pick up some temp work covering holiday rush shifts at the grocery store, so there’d been extra money for better presents and better food this year. And, judging by the wide smiles and overjoyed thanks he’d received when handing over the presents this morning—Two presents each for both of them! Jack had actually managed it!—the boys were more than pleased with their haul.

Though, really, if Jack’d had it his way, he’d of already been working somewhere—an actual part-time job, not just scrounging for seasonal work—but Snyder wouldn’t let him start working until his last birthday, afraid that if Jack had a job too young it would ‘make him look bad,’ the bastard. 

Because the underfed children in his care were nothing to worry about, obviously. 

Jack’s distracted from his lunch efforts by a sharp rap! rap! rap! of knuckles knocking against the front door, followed by a pause where he thinks whoever it is must’ve tried the doorbell, only to realize that it doesn’t work. He wipes his hands on a dish cloth and turns the burner down, figuring that Tony and Charlie won’t be able to kill each other in the time it takes for him to answer the door, probably, and wanders over to check it out. 

He can’t imagine who’d be knocking on Christmas of all days, and especially in this weather, but when he opens the front door he finds Davey standing on the doorstep, bundled up in several layers with a large canvas bag thrown over one of his shoulders.

“Dave!” Jack says, startled but pleased. “What’re ya doin’ here?”

“Hi, Jackie,” Davey says, voice muffled by the scarf covering the bottom half of his face, bright blue eyes peeking out from underneath a woolen hat. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Jack greets back automatically, then flushes, shaking his head. “Or, no, sorry, Happy Hanukkah.”

It’s hard for Jack to read his expression but he thinks he sees Davey’s eyes crinkle up at the corners⁠—an indication of a smile. Jack’s heart does a funny little hop-skip in his chest. 

“Thanks,” Davey says. 

“Here, come on in,” Jack says, opening the door a little wider.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude⁠—”

“You ain’t intrudin’,” Jack insists. “And besides, we’re lettin’ all the warm air out.”

“Oh, well, thanks,” Davey says, stepping into the entrance hall. 

“Can you stay a while?” Jack asks, eager to keep Davey in his space for as long as he can, a soft feeling fluttering in his stomach. “I can take your coat, fix you somethin’ to drink, or get you a snack if you’re hungry?”

“That sounds nice,” Davey says, and he sounds like he really means it. “But I can’t stay for long. I had a hard enough time convincing my Ma to let me come out in the first place, what with the snow and all. If I’m not home soon she’ll be worried.”

“Oh, okay,” Jack says, disappointed, and then feeling stupid that he’s disappointed in the first place. What, was he gonna serve Davey up a bowl of Easy Mac? Show him the wonders of the pillow fort?

Davey, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice the dip in Jack’s mood. “I just wanted to make sure I got these to you,” he says, letting the canvas bag he’s carrying slip off his shoulder and into his hand, holding it out to Jack in offering. “I didn’t want to bother you over break, but you weren’t at school on Friday.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jack says lamely, not wanting to get into how Charlie and Tony’s school had a half day on Friday because of the holiday, forcing Jack to cut class so he’d be able to pick them up on time. “What is it, my makeup work? Thanks for pickin’ that up for me, I really can’t afford to miss any more English assignments.”

“No, it’s not that,” Davey says. “Or, well, actually it is, but it’s not just your homework…”

Davey keeps talking but Jack doesn’t hear the rest of the explanation, though he doesn’t need to once he peers into the bag. Because it’s stacked full of presents, each wrapped in shiny blue paper dotted with silver snowflakes, tied neatly with white ribbon.

“Merry Christmas?” Davey offers, and he looks a little uncertain, fidgeting nervously with the fringe on his scarf. 

“You got me a Christmas present?” Jack asks, numbly.

“You and the boys,” Davey confirms with a nod. “Just a little something for the holiday.”

“You didn’t hafta do that, Dave,” Jack says, still not quite processing. “I don’t wantcha to waste your money on me.”

“I know I didn’t have to,” Davey says. “I wanted to.” Then he reaches out and swats Jack across the shoulder with his gloved hand. “And it’s not a waste of money, it’s a gift.”

“But…” Jack’s face feels hot, some mix of surprise, embarrassment, and joy. “But I don’t got nothin’ for you.”

“Jackie, just take the presents,” Davey says, in that fondly exasperated tone that Jack has quickly gotten accustomed to over the last few months, “and don’t worry about it. I wanted to. And it’s not like I need a Christmas present.” 

“But Hanukkah—“

“—Isn’t the same thing,” Davey interrupts, kindly but firmly. “We exchange presents, sure, but Hanukkah isn’t, like, the Jewish version of Christmas. Really, don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks, Davey,” Jack says, and his voice a little raspy as he chokes back a sudden wave of emotion, but if Davey notices he’s nice enough not to mention it. “Hey, are you sure ya can’t stay for a sec? Race and Charlie would love to see ya.”

But Davey shakes his head. “I really do need to get home,” he says, apologetic, turning back towards the door. “But tell them Merry Christmas from me, okay?”

“Will do,” Jack says. “And tell your folks Happy Hanukkah from us.”

“I will,” Davey says with a soft smile. “Have a good break, Jackie.”

Jack really wants to hug him, but he can’t with the stack of presents in his arms. He settles for a nod and a sort-of wave. “You too, Dave.”

Jack stands there for a short while, watching Davey’s trek down the sidewalk through the window until he disappears from view. Then he makes his way into the living room.

“Hey, Racer, Charlie,” Jack says. “Time out for a second.”

Tony’s head pops up from where he’s lying half on top of Charlie, pushing his brother’s face against the floor. “I didn’t do it,” he says.

“Well, I didn’t do it,” Charlie retorts, his indignant pout muffled somewhat by the carpet.

“Did I say anyone did anything?” Jack asks, raising an eyebrow. “Keep this up and you're gonna make me think I shouldn’t give ya these nice presents...”

“There’s more presents?” Tony exclaims, jumping to his feet. “Where?!”

“Slow your roll there, conejito,” Jack laughs. “They ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He gestures to the bag hanging over his shoulder. “Davey stopped by,” he explains. “He couldn’t stay but he brought us some Christmas presents.”

He waits for the boys to gather around, then hands out the presents: one for each of them, and a final one for Jack. Tony and Charlie tear right into theirs, gleeful, but Jack takes a moment to just look at his own gift⁠—inspecting the shiny foiled paper and the neatly folded corners, the curly white ribbon and the cheery holiday tag that reads ‘Jack’ in precise, rounded letters.

It’s been years since he’s gotten a Christmas present. It’s almost like his body doesn’t remember what to do with one.

The boys have no such qualms. 

“Ooh!” Tony exclaims, pulling a mass of cherry-red yarn out of his package. “Jack, look!” It’s a hat, scarf, and mitten set, perfectly sized for a eight year old, soft and warm and perfect for New York winter.

“I got one too!” Charlie says, uncovering a matching set, this one done up in pine green. He tugs the hat onto his head, then wraps himself up in his scarf, looking ridiculously pleased with himself. 

“Oh, and look what else!” Tony says. There’s a pair of DVDs tucked in between the knitwear: a copy of ‘The Lion King’ and ‘Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.’ A second glance into Charlie’s present reveals copies of ‘The Princess Bride’ and ‘How to Train Your Dragon.’

Jack takes a shaky breath, a lump settling somewhere in the back of his throat.

“Jack, aren't cha gonna open yours?” Charlie asks, innocently clueless.

“Yeah, of course I am Choo-Choo,” Jack says, and he’s glad the boys are distracted by their gifts, because while he’s managing to keep his voice steady, he’s not sure he can hide the wetness pricking at the corners of his eyes.

Cautiously, he rips the paper off his own gift. The first thing he finds is another hat, scarf, and mitten set, this one done in a rich, charcoal gray. It’s soft as anything, thick and plush, and Jack can already imagine how useful it’ll be in the coming months. 

He feels something hard nestled underneath, and at first he thinks it must be another pair of DVDs⁠—he’s sensing something of a theme with all of this. But when Jack investigates further, he instead finds a sketchbook. It’s a simple, solid thing, with a sturdy black cover and creamy white pages. The label on the back tells him that the paper is weighted for pencils, charcoal, inks, and water colors⁠—all of Jack’s preferred mediums, except that he’s sure he’s never told Davey any of that.

“Jack, can we watch this?” Tony asks, holding up the copy of ‘How to Train Your Dragon.’ “It’s s’pposed to be really good!”

“Sure we can, baby,” Jack says, running a trembling finger along the first page of the sketchbook, basking in the texture and scent of the fresh, crisp paper. “Go set up the DVD player and get the fort finished up. I’ll dish up our lunch and be right there.”

Slotted inside the book’s front cover is one last surprise⁠—a $25 dollar prepaid phone card for Jack’s cell phone. There a sticky note stuck to it that simply reads:

So you can actually call me back :)

Jack huffs out a laugh, then slips the note safely into his pocket, packing his gifts carefully back into their box. “Yeah, okay,” he murmurs, smiling to himself. “I think I can make that happen.”

00000

Chapter three here

Tag List: @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside

[meliecho]

The 1K - an original sci-fi story

The 1K

by Meliecho

Story Summary:

1,000 children between the ages of 6-18 are abducted from Earth mere hours before the turn of the 21st century, and scattered across the galaxy in order to preserve their lives, their planet, and a precious hope the galaxy so severely needs. William Kade and Terra Kitridge are two of these children. This is their story, and the story of how they are used to further a last-ditch plan of desperation to end a 2,000 year war between the two major galactic powers.

Chapter 1

chapter summary: 

William Kade always dreamed of traveling to space. However, his and 999 other kids's lives are changed dramatically when an unknown alien race kidnaps them hours before the turn of the 21st century.

Chapter 1

December 18th, 1999. Ohio. Earth…

The chunky television in the living room played a news report through the old farmhouse.

“What’s out there? No one really knows. Man has speculated for centuries, mapped our star system, named the planets, and created gods in order to explain the vastness surrounding our blue world.”

Will watched from the round dinner table through the archway between the rooms. He shoveled a spoonful of Mac and Cheese into his mouth, barely registering the fact that it was food and not just a simple motion. The ten-year-old’s attention rested solely on the screen. His big brown eyes took in every frame.

“We look up at the stars, we listen to Carl Sagan’s speak of the cosmos, and study Stephen Hawking’s discoveries. We dream about what we might encounter among the billions of stars burning in the heavens, and we send satellites into orbit and beyond to be our eyes and ears into the unknown. The Hubble telescope has already shown us incredible images we would never have otherwise witnessed. Why? Because we are earthbound. But although we are young, we are curious and brave. In the words of Carl Sagan, ‘We wish to pursue the truth no matter where it leads. But to find the truth, we need imagination and skepticism both. We will not be afraid to speculate, but we will be careful to distinguish speculation from fact.’

“That is what drives the path-finding team of scientists and engineers at NASA. With the invention of the new Solar Nexus - a net of satellites in high orbit maintained by the International Space Station--, we can harness energy from our sun to power the world’s first inter-system ship. This ship will be capable of transporting not only goods and machinery to our closest neighbor, Mars, but transporting people, and someday, be the vessel that leads us into a new age of a lunar colony and life among the stars.

“The prototype --the Nova Star-- will be open to the public at Cape Canaveral for only one day. Scientists, astronomers, and space enthusiasts from all over the world will gather to get an up-close-and-personal look...at the future of mankind.

“Join us on New Years Eve for a live broadcast as we take you on a tour of Earth’s first inter-system vessel, and usher in the new millennium--”

The picture winked out.

“Dad,” Will whined, “I was watching that.”

“It’s daydreams and nonsense,” his father flicked the paper, folded it, and rested it by his own plate.

“It’s cool! We can have a space ship! We can explore the galaxy and be like Indiana Jones, but in space!”

“Indiana Jones fought Nazis. Not aliens,” his father countered.

“We don’t know that. Those face-melting angels were probably aliens. They went after the Nazis all like, ‘Rawr!’ And they were all like, ‘wuuaaah! Blaarrrgg!’” Will dragged his fingers down his face, making guttural sounds and pretending to melt into a puddle of goo.

“No face melting at the table,” his mother chided gently. “It’s hard to get out of the carpet.”

Will stopped the dramatics of a grim death-by-ancient-relic, and went back to eating. “Can we watch it on New Years Eve?”

“We always watch Dick Clark. It’s a tradition.”

“Yeah, but,” Will’s voice huffed with the blandness of repetition, “this is cooler than an old man! It’s space! Please, dad?”

“Charlie, let’s watch it,” his mother nudged her husband in the side. “Even if the space ship doesn’t work out, I have to admit it is pretty neat. Like when Kirk landed the Enterprise in the middle of San Francisco.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. He knew his wife was a sci-fi nerd, but he’d hoped she’d at least settle down some after Will was born. Thanks to her, he now knows most of the script to Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, and Star Wars IV, V, and VI.

“See? Mom gets it,” the young boy gave a cocky smile in victory. “Oh! I forgot. Last night, I picked up that weird signal again over the radio.”

“I listened to it once already. It’s white noise.” Charlie said.

“No it’s not! There’s a weird blippy pattern to it.” Will spoke around a mouthful of macaroni and cheese. “Noise is all ‘kkkrrrrr!’ This was all ‘kkkrr beep boop bleep!’ and something that sounds like a million people talking at once. I read that stars emit radio waves. Maybe this was--”

“Noise.”

“It wasn’t noise!”

“I was a member of the US Signal Corp for 20 years. When I gave you my old CB radio, I wanted you to learn how to navigate the airwaves. Not keep your head in the clouds.” He picked up the paper. “Besides. If it’s that important, the boys at NASA probably already picked it up. If it’s something of serious importance, I’d have gotten a call.”

“You were their best decoder, dad. Can you listen to it again? Please?”

“Leave it alone, Will.”

Will reached over for the remote, but his dad smacked his hand away with the paper. He grumbled, pouted, and said, “Whatever. Not like you’d believe me anyway.”

“Will,” his mother scolded.

Charlie leaned forward. “Repeat yourself, son. I don’t think I heard that,” but by his tone, the muffled slight clearly reached him.

Will glanced up to his dad, but kept his mouth shut.

Charlie reclined back in the chair again. “That’s what I thought. Go to your room.”

Will’s jaw dropped. “But--”

“Now!”

Silenced, Will slammed the spoon against the plate. The chair scratched against the old cube-print linoleum floor as his feet thundered up the stairs. The sound of his bedroom door slamming against its frame echoed downstairs.

Molly sighed. “Every time. Why can’t you two get along?”

“We have to fix the problems here on the ground before we go looking for problems out there,” Charlie’s face softened. “He needs to understand that. If we can’t fix ourselves, we can’t go anywhere.”

“It’s because NASA built the ship, isn’t it,” she uttered softly, knowing full well she was treading on emotional hot coals. “It’s been three years. When are you going to let this go?”

“Hughs is an idiot if he thinks this will work. He doesn’t see the big picture. He never did.” Charlie dropped the paper onto the round kitchen table -- signaling that the conversation was over --, picked up the remote, and moved to the living room recliner to watch a football game.

Molly picked up her son’s half-finished dinner. “Maybe letting him dream is a way to fix ourselves.” She covered his plate in plastic wrap and stuck it in the refrigerator. Her son could down twice this much food in one sitting. He would be hungry later.

* * * *

Will turned on his small t.v., picked up his SNES controller, and dropped cross-legged on the floor surrounded by dirty clothes strewn across the rug. The sounds of Super Mario World covered the silence. Snow drifted lazily to the ground outside the window, so he couldn’t go lay out on a blanket in the backyard like he usually would and get lost staring up at the stars. Well, he could, but he didn’t want to get pneumonia before Christmas.

He abandoned Blue Yoshi at the Star Road bonus level and shut off the game. Curious and a little bored, he turned on the old military radio and worked the dials carefully. He listened through monitor headphones too big for his head for a half hour before finally tossing them onto his desk in frustration. Nothing. Maybe his dad was right. Maybe it was just noise.

----

December 31st, 1999. New Years Eve…

Y2K theories had circulated for years. No one knew where it started, but the concept that the Earth’s fledgling internet, and every digital system on the planet would shut down frightened some enough into preparing for Dooms Day. Most people shrugged it off and went about their lives. Others feared the global shut down would set off every nuclear weapon on the planet, wiping out humanity. But everyone knew that instant ramen manufacturers had never seen a greater profit rise in the entirety of their companies’ existence.

Will didn’t buy into any of that, no matter how much the old people in their small town ranted about the end of days. He was sure the clocks would just turn over, and that would be it. He and his mother had gone to the local market to pick up a few groceries, but found that the apocalypse preppers had bought all the milk, most of the meat, a ton of non perishable goods, and first aid.

Frustrated, she purchased what she could, and made the trip in their SUV to the next town. Fortunately, they fared a little better. They enjoyed lunch at a local Denny’s, and made it home to have an uneventful night

That is, until 11pm rolled around.

Will was over the back of the couch in seconds, and had the t.v. tuned into the news. The reporter had just started going on about the details of the Nova Star. Will was entranced. He was so excited, he’d put on his long sleeved black henley with a small NASA logo to feel like he was part of it. “This is awesome! Hey, dad, aren’t those the guys you worked with?”

“Some of them. There’s some new faces.” Charlie put on his jacket and went to the backyard to chop wood. He’d tried to let his son enjoy this, but he didn’t want to have anything to do with the Nova Star project anymore, not even watching them parade their work to the media.

Molly sat next to her son with a bowl of popcorn. Will didn’t hesitate to take a massive handful and shove it into his mouth as he watched the tour of the Nova Star begin.

With everything that her only child held an interest in --video games, computers, that old radio-- they had their shared love of space, and Indiana Jones.

The media crew had lead their viewers through the cockpit and down to the living quarters of the ship, showing off all of the exciting wonders of the newest space-faring technology when all the lights in the house went out. It plunged the remote homestead into darkness.

The shock of sudden darkness sent fear spearing up Will’s spine. He knocked over the popcorn bowl and curled up around a pillow.

“Molly? Everything all right?” Charlie called in through the back door.

“We’re fine!” Molly called back.

“I’m checking the fuse box. Bring a light!”

“I’ll be right there!” She brushed her hand over Will’s hair. “It’s ok, Will, it’s just a power outage. Probably a tree branch took out a power line. It happens in winter.” She knew that even though he could pick up almost any insect, amphibian, and fearlessly explore the areas around their house, the only thing that would terrify him was complete and absolute darkness.

She felt her way to the kitchen to get a spare flashlight out of the junk drawer and handed it to him. He turned it on.

“Guard the house, Indiana. I’ll be right back.” Molly ruffled his dark hair and got a second flashlight and her coat from the entryway closet. She went out back to help her husband check the fuse box.

Molly held the flashlight as her husband flicked all the switches.

“Well, the fuses check out. There’s just no power,” Charlie threw each switch again for good measure.

“I was right. It was probably a downed tree.” She turned off the light and walked out to the backyard. She folded her arms tightly around her middle for warmth. Without the convection layer of clouds, it made being outside that much colder.

Charlie put his arm around her. “So much for New Years Eve; Dick Clark, spaceships, or otherwise.”

Her eyes rested on the arm of the Milky Way galaxy draping through the center of the clear night sky. “You know, without all the lights, it’s really beautiful.”

Charlie exhaled. “Yeah.”

“What arm are we in again?”

“The Orion-Cygnus arm. We’re not facing the core of the galaxy right now, but we will in summer.”

“Will comes out here, you know. He’ll sit out here and just stare.”

“Mmhmm. You used to do that as a kid, too. He gets his love of space from you.”

“No,” she shook her head. “He gets his love of nerd stuff from me. He gets his sense of adventure from you.”

He chuckled at that. “A hell of a combination.”

“Well, look who he’s combined from,” she smirked.

He chuckled at that.

“Maybe the new century is a good time to start a new resolution. Start off small. Who knows what he can do if we let him.”

“Molly…”

“He’s smart, Charlie. Work with him. Take him to NASA. If you want him to see the world that you think needs fixing, then show him. He might be the one to fix it, but he needs you. As smart as he is, he can’t do it alone.” She brushed her hand down his face, feeling the stubble of facial hair beneath her palm. “None of us can.”

Charlie grumbled. NASA’s headquarters wasn’t a place for kids, but she was right. It was part of the real world, and Will needed to see it. “Fine. I’ll take him after the holidays. But if anybody asks, this was your idea.”

She smiled and leaned in closely. “I’ll take full responsibility.”

He couldn’t help but kiss her and run his fingers through her long black hair. That gentle smile always warmed his heart.

The two stared up at the sky for a moment before she shivered and nudged her husband to head back.

A pulse of red light struck them in the back, and Charlie and Molly fell to the snow.

* * * *

Will scooted off the couch, keeping a vice grip on the flashlight. This was his home -- he’d lived here since birth -- but in the darkness, it felt like he’d entered another realm.

The house creaked around him. He spun, looking for whatever made that sound, then shook his head. “Get a grip, you dumb dork.”

A light static and crackle split the deathly silence. He aimed his flashlight at the stairs and swallowed. That sounded like his radio. He should check it out. Indiana Jones wouldn’t run away.

Will’s feet didn’t move for a good ten seconds.

Stealing his resolve, he went upstairs to his room.

The green light of the radio exuded a dull, eerie glow throughout the room. What scared him more were the sounds coming from the radio itself. Without power, the light shouldn’t be on, let alone the radio receiving a signal. His heart pounding with fear, but his curiosity overpowering it, he turned the knob to clarify the signal. The electronic beeps were still present, but were more like morse code than before. He could pick out different letters, enough to hear ‘246. Kade,’ but any speech in the background remained unfamiliar syllables and plosives.

Kade... That was his last name, but what did 246 mean? Someone out there was using morse code and talking about them for some reason. He had to tell his dad. This was definitely not noise.

Abandoning his fear, Will hurried downstairs, put on his winter coat and boots, and rushed outside into the cold snow. His warm breath clouded in the air. “Dad! You gotta hear this! Dad!” He ran around to the back of the house to the fuse box. “Dad? Mom?” They were gone. No one was there. Will shone his flashlight on the ground. The melted snow beneath the overhang protecting that part of the house showed their footprints walking away.

He peaked around the corner. “Mom?”

His parents lay on their backs with their eyes open.

“Mom! Dad!” Will hurried as fast as his small legs could carry him to the middle of the large yard. He dropped at his father’s side. “Dad! Are you ok?! Mom!”

Neither moved, but light puffs of warm air escaped their mouths. They were alive, just paralyzed. Charlie’s mouth moved slightly. “Run,” he whispered.

“Dad, no!” Will pulled on his father’s hand to try to pull him to his feet.

Charlie’s hand trembled as he fought the bind. Molly twitched beside him, fighting her own battle.

A glaring light lit up the wintery yard, blinding him. Will covered his eyes and stumbled back. He blinked upward as enormous lights shown down on their position.

“Run!” Charlie screamed.

Will instantly took off across the yard. A red pulse hit the snow at his right, forcing him to dodge in an arch. He evaded one more hit to his left, but the third landed its mark. Will’s entire body froze. He struggled to move even a finger, but it had him completely paralyzed.

A rush of warm air blasted the snow into swirls of white clouds around them. Will faced the lights from a craft larger than his house as a long ramp lowered and a single individual descended it quickly. It looked like a man in a dark armored uniform, but his face was covered by a protective mask with orange tinted eyewear.

Will’s heart threatened to explode from his chest as he breathed rapidly in fear.

The man passed a scanner over Will’s wide brown eyes, then spoke. The language mirrored that of the transmission Will had received off and on for the past few weeks.

A sharp pain pricked in the soft space behind his right ear. Will let out a small squeak of surprise. He felt a tingle brush through his mind like someone had taken a feather and gently swiped it all over his brain. The sensation died seconds later.

The man said something to him.

Will couldn’t think straight.

Irritated, the man rolled his eyes, grumbled, and then said it again, more impatiently.

Will’s eyes shifted to stare at his mother and father fighting the paralysis.

The man said something else in frustration then gave up and picked him up.

Will wanted to fight, but his body refused to obey him. He watched his parents helplessly as he was carried up the ramp. The panic built, and he did the only thing his body would allow: he let out a terrified, wordless scream. The ramp closed, shutting his parents and home out of sight.

The ship’s atmospheric thrusters sent more snow clouds billowing through the air as it rose above the trees, pivoted, and disappeared across the sky.

All of this took no more than two minutes.

Molly and Charlie were left alone in the winter stillness of their yard. They could move enough to grip each other’s hands as the bind gradually wore off, but remained in the cold staring at the empty sky.

The power returned ten minutes later.

They continued to lay there even as the news switched over to the countdown.

“...5...4...3...2...1…”

A hot tear streaked down Molly’s face to drip into the snow. “HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

* * * *

tbc

* * * *

((I really wish I could translate what the alien said as he carried Will into the ship, but it would break the mood. The alien said, “246 Acquired. Let’s go. It’s colder than tits out here.”))

[lissachan504]

FAW FAN FICTION SHOWCASE

 Untitled works

Submission by @officiallokilaufeyson

Thank you so much for sharing!

“Well…now you’ve gone and ruined my favorite gun…” James grumbled, wiping the blood-spattered remnants from his pistol onto his pants leg, then grimacing at the stain that was left over.

“Should have thought that through…" 

Before he had much of a chance to do anything else, however, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. 

Removing one of his latex gloves, he fished it out, sighing at the name, before answering.

“Hello, light of my life…" 

"Yes, well, you’re not exactly my idea of a stellar phone call, either.” The voice on the other end snapped at him, and he stifled a chuckle.

“You’re much too easy to tease, Becs. Since you’re calling, I can only assume Arrow wants me back at HQ.”

“And he gets it right! Yes, he wants you back here ASAP. Did you get a chance to call the clean-up crew yet?”

“Uhm, no, kinda just baked the cupcake, which exploded everywhere, might I add. Very rude of it.” To this, he grimaced at the remains on the toe of his boot, and started to rub it off on the side of the brick wall opposite him.

“Well, don’t worry, I’ve called and detailed the location, they’ll be there to fix the kitchen in no time. Meanwhile, get your rear over here. It’s important.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. See you in a few." 

And before he gave her the chance to respond, he swiped the phone call to an end, carefully sliding it back into his pocket, and only sparing his victim one last glance before taking off in the opposite direction.

The journey to Arrow’s lair, considering he didn’t stop home first to change clothes, took him a grand total of an hour by foot. He would have taken a taxi, but he wasn’t about to be that cliche.

He was greeted out front by the usual suspects-Charlie and Mac-who nodded to him before he entered the foyer.

"Couldn’t you at the very least have cleaned up a little before coming here?”

A quick glance up revealed none other than the Operater herself, Rebecca. Or, as James was wont to call her, Becs. 

She looked nothing less than annoyed at his presence as she tapped her foot, curly brown hair bouncing with the motion and mouth pursed, wearing her signature  vegan leather jacket, baggy tee, jeans and trusty boots that had seen more wear and tear than perhaps James, himself.

“Well, you impressed upon me the utmost importance of this meeting, so yeah, I could’ve gone home to clean up, but then I would’ve been here later, now, wouldn’t I?” He countered, to which Becs only rolled her eyes, turning with a jaunt down the hall.

He knew by now protocol was to follow her, and he did so, pushing his hands into the shallow recesses of his jacket pockets.

“What was so important, anyway? Usually he can wait a bit, but it seems like time’s a bit of the essence this go around. Is it a prostitution ring? Kidnapping? Murder plot?”

“James, you know very well by now that I can’t tell you, only Arrow can do that.” She sighed, though slowed down to allow him to walk beside her.

“Beeeeecssss.” James whined, considering pulling at her jacket, but knowing full well he would get slugged in the face for daring to do so with dirty hands.

“All I can tell you is that it’s incredibly important. Probably one of the most high-priority missions you’ve ever been on, so you need to have your head on right.”

James blinked, eyebrows furrowed at this statement of hers. He had had his fair share of priority missions, so to be told that this was going to rank up there as a primo one?

Well, he was nothing short of excited.

Their conversation was cut short, however, as they stopped short in front of Arrow’s door.

“Well, this is where I take my leave. Good luck in there.” She was about to pat his arm, but stopped short at seeing a rather large hunk of goop on the sleeve, and thus quickly withdrew her hand and took off down the hallway, causing him to chuckle heartily, before letting himself in.

As with any and every cliche action movie, Arrow wasn’t facing him when he entered the office.

No, he was stood next to the window, hands clasped behind his back, eyebrows furrowed and looking much like Atlas-the entire weight of the world his to bear.

“James, reporting for duty, sir.” The young man attempted to break the tension with a quip, smiling weakly in the presence of his superior.

Arrow was a tall man. Older, but no less handsome due to his age. He had sharp cheekbones, salt and pepper hair, a defined jawline and a stare so piercing with blue, blue eyes, it sometimes appeared as if he was looking into you rather than at you.

Some would find that type of stare creepy. James had seen it enough times to find it cool now, though he could freely admit that the first time he had seen the man, he had been quite intimidated.

That stare was now fixed on him, though it had since softened with a quirk to his lips.

“James…it’s nice to see you. It’s been nearly a month.”

“Huh…it has, hasn’t it…” James mused, reaching up to push messy black hair from equally dark eyes, though his attention never wavered.

“Time does fly…but I didn’t call you here to wax on and off about life’s temporary permanence. There’s something…of great importance that I need you to take care of for me. I could think of no one else for the task.” He spoke softly as he glided, rather than moved, back to his chair, sliding upon the leather seat and motioning for James to do the same in the seat across from himself.

Not one known to disobey an order, casual or otherwise, James moved to sit in the proffered chair, trying and failing to look even an ounce as suave as his superior, and thus settled with picking at his nail bed.

“As you very well know, because of my business, there’s always a price to be had on my head. Crime organizations don’t exactly take kindly to my taking out some of the most powerful people under their hand, you see.”

James only nodded so as not to disrupt Arrow’s flow of words.

“Not only is it myself who they want…but they’ve made threats. Normally, I wouldn’t be bothered by such empty words, but these threats are being made by significant crime lords with connections that I couldn’t even begin to dream to have…enter you, James.”

The young man blinked, not yet seeing his entry into this convoluted web.

“Ah…did you…want me to protect you?”

“No, but close…it’s not my safety that I’m concerned about…it’s my son’s. He is my only child, a sweet young man, but incredibly naive…I worry about him endlessly. Whether he’s going to school, or out with a friend, I can’t help but feel like there’s someone lurking out there, waiting for the opportune moment to take the most dear thing to me.

And so…it is him that I need you to protect.”

James wasn’t sure how to feel about this.

Should he be happy that Arrow was entrusting him with something-someone-so very important?

Should he be annoyed because he was going to be, essentially, nothing more than a glorified babysitter?

His emotions were, to put it simply, on short circuit overdrive.

Taking his silence as permission to proceed, Arrow continued.

“I can’t guarantee you how long this mission is going to last. It could be nothing more than a few days, it could be much longer. It will only be until I can arrange to have those sewer rats rotting in a prison cell, as I’m close to certain I know exactly who it is that’s making the threats.”

Again, James said nothing.

“I only ask you because out of everyone under my care, you are the one whom I trust the most. If you decline, I’ll understand, but I’m not sure who else I could recruit for this.”

Shaking his head free from the stupor he had been mired in, he swallowed thickly.

“Ah…are you sure I’m really the best option here? I mean, why not Charlie or Mac? They’re huge, certainly they would be the most fit for the job.”

“As capable as they are on the size chart, I need someone with not only strength, but speed and a knack for making the best decisions under a lot of pressure. You have proved time and again that you are capable of doing so, hence my choosing of you. However, as I mentioned, if you feel that you’re not up to the task, I would never force it upon you.”

James raised his hands, smiling weakly. “No, I didn’t say that! I was just…a little confused. But, I mean, I’ve never declined a mission yet. Wouldn’t want to ruin my perfect record, right?” He teased, to which Arrow replied in kind with a small smile of his own.

“I suppose that wouldn’t do, now, would it? I will arrange for you to meet him this evening. This will give you more than enough time to get yourself cleaned up before then, yes?”

“Ahh, I had almost forgotten I was covered in the innerds of my enemies! Yeah, better off not scaring him right off the bat! Can’t have his first impression of me tainted thinking I enjoy chianti and cannibalism.”

This joke, it seemed, was lost on Arrow, and so James simply excused himself before he made an even bigger fool out of of himself.

Becs was waiting for him when he arrived back in the grand foyer, looking less annoyed and more curious now.

“Weeeell, did you agree to take on the mission?”

Taking a page out of her book, James waggled a finger at her. “Nuh uh uh, if I don’t get to know any details about my own mission beforehand, then you don’t get t-ah! Ow, dammit, okay, I did!” He winced as Rebecca pulled at his ear, only releasing it when he replied in the affirmative.

“Now, was that so difficult?”

James frowned openly at her, but the pain was soon forgotten as he remembered a question that had been burning at him after the meeting. 

“Have you…have you ever met Arrow’s son?”

“Oh heavens, no. He never brings him here. I’m supposing you’ll meet him tonight at a place far removed from here. He wouldn’t want his son knowing what he does.”

“But we’re the good guys!”

“Good motive, still murder." 

I feel like I’m going on a date… James thought to himself as he looked through his wardrobe, finally settling on a clean, nice pair of jeans that he tried not to wear on missions, a long sleeved black shirt, and a pair of shoes that didn’t have blood stains all over them.

It being evening, he decided to take his car to where Arrow had deigned him to meet his son, with tall buildings and well-dressed men and women, including those going into the restaurant that James was appointed to rendezvous in.

Foregoing the valet because he couldn’t remember what was in his car and he wasn’t about to let a valet find incriminating evidence, he parked a couple of blocks back and walked inside.

"Welcome to Antonio’s, do you have a reservation?” A practiced, if polite, host greeted him.

“Uh, yeah, I think so, I-”

“I’ll take it from here, Mark.” A waiter approached the two, inclining his head for James to follow, which he did after bidding the original host goodbye with a jerky nod.

The walk was short before he was deposited into an uncrowded corner of the lavish restaurant opposite Arrow, but there was distinctly someone missing, which James was about to comment on when the waiter left, but he beat him to it.

“My son will be here shortly, he had a class end late.” Arrow informed, taking a sip of his wine.

“No problem, i-”

“Ah, sorry I’m late!” A breathless voice greeted them, and James looked up to be faced with a slightly harried young man.

He was small, at least half a head shorter than James, with light brown hair and large, pretty hazel eyes. 

James was having a hard time seeing this as Arrow’s son, because frankly, he looked nothing like him.

“He favors his mother.” Arrow filled in as his son flushed before sitting beside his father.

“Dad…” He whined quietly, wringing the napkin between his hands.

“James, this is my son, Blaze. Blaze, this is James. He’s the one from the office that I was telling you about before.”

Blaze glanced up, hazel eyes meeting green, one light brown eyebrow quirked, before Blaze looked at his father.

“Dad, you expect me to believe that he’s an associate at your work?" 

James nearly coughed into his water at Blaze’s spot on deduction, instead he glanced at Arrow, who couldn’t have looked more at ease.

"Of course not, son. He’s the son of an associate at work. He’s also your new bodyguard, so you may want to get used to him now.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Blaze.” James smiled. 

Blaze, however, looked annoyed, staring at his father.

“Since when do I need a bodyguard?”

“Since I said so. Are you going to keep questioning me and being rude or are you going to properly speak with James?”

This statement broached no argument, for Blaze flushed before turning forward to face James.

“Sorry…it’s nice to meet you, as well, James." 

"What are you studying in school?”

“Game design, with a minor in cultural studies. I’d like to make the gaming universe a more diverse place to be.” Blaze explained with a smile, his hands having moved from fiddling with his napkin to resting in his lap. Clearly, he was passionate about his chosen field of study.

“Oh, very nice. Have you made any games yet?”

He shook his head no. 

“Nah. Not full ones, at least. I made a demo that won an award, though.”

“My son is talented beyond measure.” Arrow complimented as he looked through his menu.

Blaze preened, clearly pleased to have been worthy of his father’s praise, before turning back to James.

“Did you always want to be a bodyguard, James?”

“Hmm…it came naturally.” He finally decided upon, figuring, for the most part, it was the truth, and it wouldn’t bring about any more questions.

“I see. Well, I’ve never had a bodyguard before, so I find the whole thing a little ridiculous, to be honest. I mean, the school has security, dad. They even have boxes on campus you can press to call a guard right to you.”

Arrow was only half listening as he took a sip of wine. “As I said before, there’s no arguing my decision. Make peace with it or not, James will be protecting you.”

Blaze sighed quietly, his last ditch effort clearly not having gone the way he wanted it to, though he managed a small smile at James.

“Apologies now, I’m afraid I won’t be a terribly interesting subject to protect.”

“More’s the pity. I was hoping for an absolute party animal with a penchant for mayhem.” James teased, getting a laugh out of Blaze and a smile from Arrow.

Oh, if only he knew what was in store…