AN:Just A one shot I thought up with my OFC with Mac. I have a few that I'm going to post, each separately. I was going to make it into a story, but it kind of turned into a bunch of little one shots. This one might be a two shot if I can finish the other half of what I have. Reviews are welcomed. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Red Canyon or it's characters.

I only own my own character: Pyro


We Meet Again

I was driving my beat up 1993 blue Volvo 440 to the place I used to hang out every summer until I was nine years old. My uncle who was my care giver since I was two had passed away because he had a heart condition on top of lung cancer. He wasn't the healthiest of people but he was the best man I have ever met.

Anyway my Uncle Joe still owns the place in Cainville, Utah. Basically it's in the middle of nowhere, just a whole bunch of canyons and a few places here and there. Even the grocery store is like an hour away.

I graduated about a year ago and helped run my uncles business in Florida. I have part ownership of his fish market business and his trusty friend 'uncle' Noah owned the other half. He knew Noah before I was even born.

Noah always looked after me when my uncle was busy, he's a good man. Thankfully Noah agreed to keep things running while I moved to Cainville. I've never been a people person in my entire life. I always stayed in the shadows and kept my distance. I guess you can call me anti-social.

Most people called me a freak because of my diagnoses. I have a slight anxiety disorder but my worse one is that I'm a Pyromaniac. Yes I like to set things on fire and the sight of the flames excite me. The colors just intrigue me to no end.

My uncle found my little disorder intriguing, once he made me burn down a rivals shop that started taking our business away. The cops just thought it was faulty wiring in the joint, never got caught. I always keep my lucky zippo lighter with me wherever I go, it also has my favorite nursery rhyme inscription on it.

My mom used to tell me it all the time before she died: "Lady Bug, Lady Bug, fly away home. Your house is on fire and your children are gone. All accept one and that's little Ann, she crept under a frying pan."

I guess my love of fires kind of explains the love of the nursery rhyme. Apparently my Mom died in a house fire, and I was able to make it out unscathed. My uncle says the firefighters who came, found me just sitting by the house watching the flames with such amusement.

No one ever found the cause of the fire, but my uncle always assured me that I didn't set it ablaze. Anyway, I'm not just heading to Cainville to just get away, my uncle also gave me a final task for after he died.

It was to deliver a manila envelope to my uncle's best friend Walter, they went to high school together and used to do crazy shit or something like that. That's why we used to visit every summer so he can hang out with his old friend.

He had a bar called, um… the Luna… Luna…. Mesa. Yeah that's right the Luna Mesa, it was a cute little bar not too big but not too small. Mostly the locals go there but sometimes you had just random people coming through and staying the night.

The reason we never came back to Cainville is because I started to get to close to Walter's eldest son Mac. Mac was five years older than me, and we both had a knack for starting trouble. Eleven years ago was the last time I saw him and I still remember it like yesterday.

"Hey there Timi, Ya wanna go have some fun," Mac said as I drew pictures in the red dirt of the canyons.

"I don't know, what are we going to do?" I asked as I dusted off my hands on my jeans.

"Come on," Mac said as he grabbed my hand and took me behind a boulder.

"Is that Devon and Regina's cat?" I asked looking at the animal with two broken hind legs.

"Yeah I took 'im from their house. Broke it's legs so it couldn't escape," Mac said looking down at me.

"If we get caught, were both dead. You know that, right?" I said looking at Mac.

Mac and I always got beatings whenever we did something wrong. Mac always got more beatings than me because he's older and a boy. Walter always said he's trying to make a man out of him, but he never did it to Devon. I guess he always favored Devon more than Mac.

"Fuck Walter and Joe, Devon needs a payback for tellin' Dad I hit 'im yesterday," Mac said crossing his arms over his chest.

"You said a bad word," I said looking at Mac.

"Yeah, so. What ya gonna do about it, Pyro?" Mac said as he jokingly nudged my shoulder.

"Nothing Psycho," I said as I nudged him back.

Those were our nicknames for each other Mac was Psycho because he was fascinated with death and murder and I was Pyro because I was fascinated with fire.

"So, ya wanna watch me torture their sweet little Whiskers," Mac said as he pulled out his switch blade he stole from the store.

"Sure, if you let me burn him after," I said with a raised eyebrow.

"Alright deal," Mac said smiling at me.

After about an hour of Mac torturing Devon and Regina's cat, Mac finally put it out of its misery by cutting its throat.

"Wow, if Devon and Regina saw this right now they would be weeping like babies," I said looking at the cat.

"Yeah I know right. Ya can burn it now if ya want," Mac said.

"C'mon lets go to the mechanic place, since its closed today we can use the small garbage can behind the place to burn it in," I said.

"Alright," Mac said as he picked up the lifeless cat.

We got to the closed mechanic store and went to the back where the garbage can was.

"Just stick him in there, but were going to need lighter fluid to light him up," I said while opening the lid of the garbage can.

"Where we gonna get that," Mac said as he stuck whiskers in the can.

"In there," I said pointing towards the garage.

"And how we gonna get in," Mac asked.

"The mechanic never locks the back door, see," I said as I opened the back door.

"How ya know that?" Mac asked.

"Saw him leave it unlocked a few times," I said with a shrug.

"Alright I'll stand guard while you get your shit," Mac said.

I went into the garage and found mostly empty lighter fluid bottles and a bunch of junk. I finally found one that was about half full and took a towel to use like a wick. I went back to Mac with items in hand and told him to hold the towel.

I poured most of the liquid inside the can, then I took the rest and dabbed some on the towel. I put the bottle beside Mac and I then took out my lighter and lit the end of the towel where I put the liquid. As soon as my lighter touched the towel the end of it went up in flames.

"Cool," Mac said as he watched what I did.

I quickly tossed the burning towel in the garbage can before it could burn me and we watched as the whole can combusted into flames.

"Wow yer good Pyro," Mac said watching the flames with fascination.

"They don't call me a Pyromaniac for nothing," I said with a smirk.

We watched as the smoke billowed out of the can, it first starting out as dark puffy thick clouds then turned lighter as the fire started to die out a bit.

"Hey, Py?" Mac asked.

"Yeah," I said looking at him.

"Can I kiss ya?" Mac said as he scratched the back of his neck.

"I guess," I said. Mac and I faced each other and he grabbed my hand.

We looked at each other for a second then Mac leaned in and kissed me on the lips. Since I was nine and he was only fourteen we didn't really know what we were doing. His tongue went into my mouth and at first it was really gross, kind of like a slimy worm wiggling in your mouth, but it was kind of cool.

We stayed like that for what seemed like forever until we were scared apart by a loud angry voice, "What the fuck do you think you're doing boy."

Walter grabbed Mac by the arm and dragged him towards him.

"We weren't doing nothing," Mac stuttered out.

"Don't give me that shit, you were making out with her. She's just a child you should be ashamed of yourself," Walter yelled at Mac then slapped him hard across the face making it beet red.

"Leave him alone, I wanted him to kiss me," I yelled at Walter.

"You're in trouble too, I'm going to tell your uncle what you've been up to," Walter yelled pointing a finger at me.

Walter looked at the dying inferno and looked over at me and asked, "What you burn Pyro?"

"Nothing," I said.

"What did you burn?" Walter yelled grabbing me roughly by the arms.

"Leave her alone, I asked her too," Mac said trying to pull his dad away from me.

"I wasn't talking to you Mac, so shut the fuck up," Walter said as he let one of my arms go to push Mac to the ground.

"Tell me Pyro!" Walter screamed.

"Devon and Regina's cat, Mac killed him and I burned him," I said as silent tears rolled down my cheek.

Walter slapped me hard and I fell to the floor with everything spinning around me. As my vision started return, I saw Walter beating a cowering Mac and heard Mac sobbing loudly.

"Hey, what's going on," Uncle Joe said as he pulled Walter off of Mac.

"I found these two making out and they killed and burned Devon and Regina's cat," Walter said to my uncle.

"Is this true," Uncle Joe said looking at me on the ground.

I nodded at him ashamed for my part in this, but Mac was my best friend and I secretly loved what we did.

"Come on, were going home and your never seeing Mac again," Uncle Joe said as he pulled me away from them.

"No, Mac," I yelled as I tried to grab for him.

Walter stepped in front of his son and the last memory of Mac was his sad face and pain in his eyes. Uncle Joe dragged me to our summer home and he gave me several spanks on the butt. Then he gave me an earful about kissing Mac and everything else we did. After hours filled with hurt and pain he made me pack and we left for Florida the next day. I haven't seen Mac since that fun turned awful day.

I returned from my memories when I saw a sign up ahead that said 'Cainville- 1 mile'. I was kind of nervous for many different reasons: A) Will Walter still be angry at me after all these years? B) What's Mac been up to all these years? C) Will I'll be able to survive here after all these years? So many questions running through my head as I tapped on my steering wheel.

I decided to distract myself with some music, so I turned on the radio which started to play "Highway to Hell- by AC/DC". I'm pretty sure that's what you'd call a bad sign but I didn't care in a weird way this place is like my home. I got to a rusty beat-up sign that said "Welcome to Cainville- Pop. 130".

Well now the populations 131 I thought to myself. I drove a little further and saw one of my destinations for the night "The Luna Mesa". I pulled up front where there was only a few cars sitting there. I looked at the bar from inside my car and noticed it really hasn't changed much since the last time I was here.

I pulled out my zippo and flicked it open. I watched the flames for about half a second to keep my nerves calm. I put the zippo back in my pocket and grabbed the manila envelope which had 'To Walter' written on it. I sighed and got out of my shitty car that I can't seem to let go of.

I walked into the Luna Mesa with the envelope in my hands. I walked up to the bar and looked at the old man with a semi-long graying beard that pointed at the end and long graying hair that was in a ponytail, he was cleaning some glasses with a towel. Other than the gray hair Walter really hasn't changed since I've seen him.

"What kid, I'm busy," Walter said looking up at me.

Of course he wouldn't recognize me because I'm taller since he last saw me, my 5'3' height way different than my 4'4 height. I have boobs now not big ones but they aren't small either, I'd say average. My hair is short and spikey looking like a punk rocker. I'm basically a women now.

"Uncle Joe sent me," I said with a small smile.

"Timi? No, you're a women now and a beautiful one at that," Walter said looking at me.

"Yeah, eleven years would do that," I said with a shrug.

"So where's your Uncle? It's been forever since I've seen him," Walter asked.

"He died about a week ago. Lung cancer and heart problems," I said with a sad smile.

"I'm sorry about that. He was a good man," Walter said.

"It's alright he lived a good life. He wanted me to give you this," I said as I handed him the envelope.

"Huh, what is it?" Walter asked.

"I don't know, didn't open it," I said.

Walter opened the envelope and pulled out a small box, letter, and check. He read the letter silently and made some faces throughout.

"He gave me a thousand bucks and told me to keep an eye on you. He also told me to give you a job here," Walter said folding the letter.

"A job, as a waitress," I said with shock.

Even in the grave my uncle is still making me work to keep me humble.

"Yep, a waitress/ bartender. You start Monday," Walter said as he opened the box.

"Wow he kept these after all those years," Walter said as he lifted up matching pendants.

"What are those?" I asked.

"We made these at a workshop at school. They kind of bonded our friendship. Stupidest thing looking back at it now," he said as he put them back in the box.

He pulled an old photo out of the box which was of him and my uncle hanging out at the Luna Mesa, it looked like the grand opening.

"Thanks for bringing this kid. Do you need a place to stay or do you still own the house?" Walter asked.

"We still own the house, but thanks for asking," I said with a smile.

Walter nodded and went to put his items in what I'm guessing was his office. He came back and started to clean some more glasses and asked if I wanted anything to drink. I told him just some water and he brought it to me in no time. I sat at the bar quietly thinking of the rest of the things I have to do to get settled into Cainville.

"Walter!" I heard a man yell as he walked through the door.

I saw Walter roll his eyes and take out a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass. The man came over and stood next to me. He plucked off the cap from the bottle and took a large swig of the whiskey. The man seemed young from the side, he had dingy looking coveralls, dirt and grime on parts of him I could see.

This man was hot, in a creepy scary kind of way. My standards of men was never that high as long as they were breathing and looked like a man I was hooked. Never had a boyfriend, well one, but he was weird and it only lasted less than a week. I must have been staring because the man turned and glared at me.

"What the hell ya staring at bitch," The man sneered.

I could see him fully now since he was facing me he had a goatee, dark short disheveled brown hair, and scars on his collar bone. What really stood out to me was his blue eyes, which made my memories of the young boy I had a crush on all those years ago come flooding back.

It was definitely my best friend Mac, he looks like he's been through rough times but I guess an abusive father, living out in the canyons, and I'm assuming drugs would do that to a person.

"Is that how you treat a friend, Psycho?" I said looking up at him with my dark brown eyes.

"The fuck you call me! I haven't been called Psycho since," Mac said looking confused.

"Since my uncle Joe took me away eleven years ago," I said.

"Pyro?" Mac asked.

"Yep," I said with a smile.

"Can't believe ya here. How long ya here for?" Mac asked as he leered over my body.

"I'm moving here since my uncle Joe died," I said.

"Huh, sorry 'bout ya uncle," Mac said.

"Lived a good life," I said with a shrug.

"Mac," Walter said in a warning tone.

"What!" Mac sneered at his father.

"Did you finish?" Walter said glaring at his son.

"I'll get it done," Mac said looking pissed.

"I need it done tonight," Walter said anger written all over his face.

"I'll get it the fuck done Walter, I don't need ya crawling up my god damn ass. I know the fucking dead line," Mac answered with his own anger.

I can see they still haven't been able to patch things up.

"I'll be seeing ya Py," Mac said as he grabbed the whiskey bottle and headed out the door. "Stay away from him Timi," Walter said looking at me.

"Why? C'ause he's addicted to the drugs you two are selling. C'uase he's no good for me," I said looking at Walter.

"Yes, your uncle wouldn't want you with a meth addict, serial killer, and rapist. Mac is shit for you and we tried to keep you two apart," Walter said.

"I'll take my chances. We both have our psychosis, we're meant for each other," I said smirking at Walter.

"Don't say I didn't warn you. If you get hurt don't come crawling to me," Walter said pointing a finger at me.

"Fine. Speaking of children, how's Devon and Regina?" I asked him.

"They're alright. Maybe you'll get to see them since you're here," Walter said.

I nodded and said, "I should go, need to check out my house."

"Alright be careful, and be here Monday before eight so you can get situated here," Walter said.

"Fine, see you on Monday Walt," I said as I headed out the Luna Mesa.

As I drove to my new home I couldn't help to think about what Walter told me about Mac. I can't believe the young boy I was best friends with only eleven years ago was a meth addict, cooker, and dealer. He's also a rapist and serial killer.

I guess a lot has changed since I've been here, but what turned him into this monster. I wish we were never separated from each other, but I can't help but wonder if we weren't apart where we would have ended up. We were the trouble makers and never thought anything was too dangerous to try. We'd probably be dead or in jail if we were still together.

I pulled up to my uncle's three bedroom house that still looks the same after these eleven years. I parked in front of the garage on the asphalt drive way and looked at the small two story home. I got out of my car and went to my trunk where I took out my three different suitcases.

I had my duffel bag on my left shoulder, my carry-on on my right shoulder, and I dragged my big rolling suitcase behind me. I flipped my keys to the one for the house and unlocked the front door. I closed and locked the door behind me once I was inside. I flipped the switch near the door which illuminated the living room from two lamps on either side of the couch.

I headed upstairs to put my bags in the master bedroom which was the last door at the end. I placed the duffel on the bed along with the carrying bag and I leaned the big one up against the bed. I looked around the entire house and reflecting on all the memories I had here. There was two rooms upstairs which is the master bedroom and a small guest room that used to be mine when I was little.

Then there was one guest bedroom downstairs that we rarely used. We had a small living room that was well furnished like all the other rooms in the house. There was two and a half bathrooms; one in the master bedroom, one upstairs and the half down stairs near the other bedroom.

The garage was small but could easily fit one car and a few boxes in it. We also had a small pool and patio in the backyard. We used to have a Fourth of July party every year and Walter, Mac, Devon, Regina, and Devon and Regina's mother used to come over. On the last Fourth of July party when I was 9 Devon tried to steal my last Oreo so I punched him in the face and gave him a bloody nose.

Mac was laughing hysterically and Regina was scared of all the blood. Devon was three years older than me and I could always beat him up, he was such a pussy. Regina was a year older than me and we got along pretty well.

I hated being the youngest, but I could hold my own especially with Devon and Mac. Those were the best times when all we had was fun. I decided to unpack and put away my clothes. It only took me an hour to hang up my clothes in the closest and I put some toiletries I brought with in the bathroom.

I took out the last thing left out of all my bags which was my uncle's urn. Yes I got him cremated, one because he wrote it in his will, and two because I like fire. No I did not do it myself, he was professionally cremated at a funeral home in Florida. After I set the urn down on the dresser against the wall opposite the bed, I decided to go to sleep.