AN: My heartfelt condolences to those affected by the Newtown, CT shooting.
This is an older story. I was surprised to hear that Degrassi is still running. This story addresses some earlier seasons, most notably the episodes "Time Stands Still" and "Back In Black". The content of this story might be disturbing to some readers, in light of recent events. Particularly because I am portraying Rick Murray in a more sympathetic light than readers may think he deserves, though I don't think it's much different from how the show portrayed him (except the supernatural bits.) I find it much harder to sympathize with the instigators of the actual school shootings, and the issue of whether they deserve sympathy is a can of worms I might be opening. I cannot comment on those issues. We'll never know their situations as thoroughly as we know the fictional Rick Murray's. And my sympathies, without question, lie with their victims, who were robbed of their lives and their futures.
Degrassi is a complicated show to follow so I apologize for any inaccuracies with timeline or characterization.
Kendra pounded on Spinner's door for the fifth time that morning.
When Spinner didn't respond, as he hadn't the past four times, Kendra rammed herself through the door. She tripped over a CD rack that he had left out presumably as some kind of barricade. She rubbed her shin, then waded towards the shades.
Sunlight shot into the room. The rubble on the bed shifted.
"Spinner," Kendra snapped. She grabbed the end of the blanket and yanked it off the bed. Spinner recoiled, but there was nothing to hide under.
"It's morning," Kendra announced firmly. "Come on, we've got to pick up Cole at the airport."
"We?" he grunted.
"As in including you."
"We don't both need to go," Spinner argued with immutable logic. "You can go yourself."
"But I don't have my license," Kendra reminded him. The plan was that Spinner would break from his anti-social state for that reason alone. He would be obligated to come out of the house for this unavoidable errand.
Spinner made no attempt to move: not out of obligation or, heaven forbid, basic courtesy.
"Then don't get pulled over," was his disinterested reply.
Grumble. Kendra stomped out, kicking the wayward CD rack on the way
Kendra's parents usually left them to their own devices. Since grade school, they expected Kendra and Spinner to raise themselves and take care of their own needs. Of course, that didn't stop them from accepting brief custody of a kid cousin they never even met. "It'll be a good experience for them," they must have said to each other. "It'll force them to learn some responsibility."
Kendra usually did not mind the freedom, she wished that her parents acted more concerned with Spinner getting expelled. Their way was handling it was to tell Spinner to "work it out himself."
Kendra could not help but wonder if Cole was in the same situation. Cole's mother, who Kendra has not met, sent him here because of an emergency, but she could not be so devoid of friends that she had to ship Cole across the continent to get a babysitter.
Kendra slid into the car seat and jammed the keys in the ignition. She tilted back the rear view mirror.
"Feeling brave, Rick?" she muttered, barely reining in her flare of anger.
Rick rose from his crouch position in the backseat.
"Where are we going?"
"I'm going to the airport," Kendra hinted.
"Interesting."
"No, it's not." Kendra sighed. Not wanting to enter into another fruitless argument in kicking Rick out of the car, she said, "If you're that bored, you can come. But no talking."
Rick motioned zipping his lips. She sighed again.
Kendra cruised down the highway to the airport. She drove smoothly, skillfully shifting between lanes and gliding off the offramp.
Rick kept to her demand. He did not talk. He let her concentrate on driving.
At the end of her flawless performance on the road, Kendra inched the car in an empty parking spot.
She opened the trunk and wrestled out the poster board sign she made to greet Cole.
"Who's Cole?" he asked. Kendra glared at him. "Just friendly conversation," he said, dejectedly.
"He's my cousin."
Rick was not to be satisfied with the bare minimum of details. "So how long is he staying?"
"A while," Kendra could not provide better information than that. Her parents, in arranging the visit, could not narrow down an exact timetable for the length of Cole's visit. His mother claimed he would need to stay for a while. "Maybe a month or more," her parents had relayed to her.
"You don't seem that thrilled with it," Rick commented. "Is he that bad?"
Kendra shrugged. Rick's use of "bad" was too vague to make any terse reply. "I never met him," she offered for her lack of unbridled joy.
"Interesting," Rick repeated.
Kendra restrained an angry frown. She did not want to explain or defend her angry mood. She should not have to outline that it was not Cole's visit that was the problem. It was the timing of it. But Rick would perceive that explanation the wrong way, that she was saying it was his fault.
It is his fault, Kendra argued silently to herself. But, hell, it would do no good to rub it in.
She cut short the inner dialogue and strode to the terminal, unclenching her hand so she would not make a crease in the sign.
