Hello, guys, I'm back! This one-shot is extremely overdue—I wanted it written before Christmas, that's why it's Christmas themed. Sorta. This the "sequel" to, or continuation from my two-shot Before I Leave This World. I hope you guys enjoy it :)
The whirring of rotors pierced the air as a familiar helicopter readied for flight. He had woken up at eight that morning, had a filling breakfast consisting of a can of oil and a croissant, and was now ready to fly on to his next destination. Inside his pitty compartment, a space that could be accessed by his rear doors, a small, organic creature sat half curled up, half asleep.
"How are you doing back there, Damion?" the helicopter asked the creature in a cheerful tone.
"I'm just wakin' up," Damion replied. He yawned wide, confirming his status. "How're you, Nick? Thanks for the breakfast, by the way." Nick had saved him a croissant and some juice, being mindful of how humans couldn't ingest vehicle oil like machines could as he did so. Damion had told Nick much about what a human could or could not eat.
"You're welcome, little buddy," Nick chuckled. "So…are you excited about our next destination?"
"Yep!" the twelve year old chirped. Propwash Junction sounded like an interesting place to settle down in for the time being. It was a small community consisting mostly of aircraft, though some land-based vehicles lived there too. Nick had read as much as he could about the place while he was researching several candidates for areas to settle down in. He decided that Propwash Junction would be a pretty good place to live in if you had to hide someone, even if it was now getting a lot of attention due to the fact that a 'world-famous air racer' lived there. But from what he read, not very many 'outside' people went to Propwash Junction, even though the racer lived there—the town usually only got a little congested if there was a festival planned. For most of the year, it was just a simple farming community, just what Nick was looking for.
"So…how much money do you have left?" Damion asked as snowflakes started to fall from the sky.
Nick slid his visor down over his eyes in order to protect them from the precipitation. "Enough for a few more days stay at Propwash's motel. Hopefully I'll figure something out before I run out." Nick had had this nasty habit of keeping a substantial amount of cash on his person, no matter what he was doing. He usually kept enough on him in order to sustain himself for a few days if something happened—something that had been hammered into him when he accidentally had gotten lost on his way from one set in Los Angeles to another in a small town in the middle of the desert outside of the city. He had been forced to land, but hadn't had any cash on him at the time, so he had been unable to get himself a room at the local motel. It wasn't until someone had recognised him from CHoPs that he'd gotten a place to sleep that night.
He had been fortunate that he had had enough cash to rent enough rooms during their search for a new home. After he had fallen into an alternate dimension where creatures called humans were the dominant species and vehicles were nothing more that inanimate objects, he had met two humans by the names of Audra and Damion Wellington. Audra was dying, but she had allowed him to stay in their father's workshop until she managed to find a way to get him back to this dimension, where there were no humans, just machines. Nick had taken Damion with him so that Audra wouldn't have to worry about who would take care of her little brother when she was gone. It had been a week since they returned to the machine world, and they had been practically travelling non-stop since then. Nick was almost out of money, so he hoped he'd be able to find some work in order to be able to support both himself and Damion.
The first town they had visited was a little town that had reappeared on the map eight years before (thanks to a certain racer named Lightning McQueen), where they stayed at a motel with individual huts shaped like caution cones (it was called the Cozy Cone). There were a couple hangers at the back of the motel lot that were big enough for Nick to reside in, though were not fashioned after cones like the rest of the motel—instead in seemed to be overly decorated with caution cone-esque furnishings. Before they left that town, Nick visited the local body art shop, knowing that if he didn't change his appearance, people would start to recognise him with his CHoPs paint still broadcasting clearly to all who looked at him. He left the shop wearing tan paint that glittered faintly in the sun, the words "Helicopter Patrol" erased from his tail boom, and golden pinstripes that ran down his sides. He kept the black anti-glare paint on his nose and around his eyes, and his number as well, and had his adopted name, 'Frank Poncherello', stenciled in black right outside his peripheral on both of his sides.
The town itself was nice, but much too busy for his liking, so they had moved on. Now, Nick and Damion were approximately 30 miles away from Propwash Junction, and were heading there as fast as the weather conditions would allow. While he was growing up, he had never really had to deal with snow while flying, so he was eager to land and rest his skids on the ground as soon as possible.
Half an hour later, Propwash Junction appeared ahead through the wet snow that was falling from the sky. As he neared their empty runway, Nick radioed the control tower. "This is Poncherello 302, with a request to land," he said.
"We hear you, Poncherello 302. You're clear to land," a flight controller replied.
Nick switched off his radio and gently landed on the snow-covered runway, as close as he could to the town. The downdraft from his propeller blades kicked up a mini snowstorm as it blew the snow out from underneath him and up and around. He quickly hopped off of the runway as his rotors powered down. He came to a stop several meters away from the runway, and he took a moment to look about at the hangers and buildings that made up the town. It looked to be a very homey place, and it brought a grin to his face.
The motel was only a short distance away, a distance in which he spent mostly hopping or waddling to get there so he wouldn't blow snow around and bother those who were out and about. It made him consider having his skids taken off and replaced with wheels, just so that he wouldn't have to hop around.
He waddled into the motel's lobby, and eyed the Cessna standing behind the counter. The small male prop-plane looked up and smiled at Nick before he said, "Well, hello! Welcome to the Rest-Easy Motel of Propwash Junction! How may we serve you? I am Brody, the owner and manager of this fine establishment."
Nick blinked. "Um, hi," he began. "Well…I would like to rent a motel room for as long as I can afford, of course."
"Alright," Brody said. "So…how many days do you figure?"
Nick smiled awkwardly as he counted the approximate amount of cash he still had on him. He figured he had enough for about three days, including extra for food, fuel, and oil. That wasn't a very long time for him to find a job, which was something he needed to do in order to be able to earn money so he could support himself and Damion. But what could he possibly do?
He would worry about it later. Nick quickly booked the room and paid for the stay before he accepted the key and left the office. He made his way over to the right hanger and keyed it open once he had stopped before it. He hobbled inside once the doors were wide enough and pressed the paddle to close the door once he turned around to face it. He watched the doors close, and it wasn't until they came together and the motors that opened and closed them had silenced that he let out a sigh of relief.
As he retracted his visor, he said, "It's safe to come out now, Damion." He opened his door, and allowed the boy to jump out. Once the kid was out, Nick closed the door and turned to look at him. Damion cast his gaze about and took in the appearance of the motel room, noting the mat that was probably going to be Nick's bed, the side table that sat next to it, the plane-sized 'couch' and the TV that sat across the room from the bed.
Once again, the room looked like it possessed next to nothing a human would be comfortable to sit or sleep on. Though…the couch looked comfier than the floor. He wouldn't mind sleeping there, he figured, it might just take a while to get used to it. "It's…nice…" Damion admitted slowly.
Nick chuckled a little, his tank dropping a bit at the fact that he couldn't offer the boy a better home. But he decided not to dwell on it—he knew Audra would understand that he couldn't just automatically get a nice home. He used to have a home, back in LA, but he knew that, once people believed he was dead or something, officials would have seized his things and probably would have given them to his family. He didn't have a home anymore. "Why don't we see if there's anything on TV?" he asked. "There must be some sort of movie on…it's December after all." And that was another thing. When they reappeared in his world, they had somehow skipped a month and were halfway through December.
Damion nodded. "Sure," he said, before going over and plunking himself down on the edge of the mat. He picked up the large TV remote that was sitting there and turned the TV on. Nick settled down next to him and watched him flick through the channels for a while, before bringing up the guide.
"Hey, look!" Nick suddenly exclaimed as Damion scrolled down the list of channels on the screen. "On channel 171! The Six Million Dollar Van! Man, I haven't watched that for a while."
"Do you wanna watch it right now?" Damion asked.
"Please?" Nick replied hopefully.
Damion laughed before he used the remote to change to channel 171. The title sequence of the show began to play and the boy couldn't help but laugh again when the tune and how the voice-over turned out to be practically the same as the Six Million Dollar Man show he had been watching back when it was just him and his sister… The boy quickly blinked and forced himself not to think about his sister. He'd never see her again, and he wasn't ready to mourn yet.
"Lee Majors was a great actor," Nick told him as they watched the white van race across the screen, going faster than any normal van could. "I was friends with him back when I was acting for CHoPs."
"Gee, you make it sound like you were an actor a lifetime ago," Damion remarked sarcastically.
Nick chuckled. "Hey, to the world it was a lifetime! To me, it was just over a week ago…" a frown made itself known on his face for a second before he brightened again. "I wonder what Lee's doing right now…"
Damion shrugged. "I dunno, haven't had the chance to look it up on the internet yet."
The helicopter cocked an eyebrow at the human boy. "And there's that internet again!" he wondered if he'd ever be able to figure out the internet once he did gain access to a computer. Then again, he wasn't sure he'd understand the computers that were around nowadays until someone showed him how to work one.
The next day, after breakfast, Nick left Damion in the motel room, telling him to not leave the room for any reason. Damion said he was content to sit around and watch TV until he would return, because the boy was fascinated with how they did things on the shows that aired now. Before he left the front door, after he closed it, he hung a 'do not disturb' sign on it so that the cleaning staff wouldn't stumble in and see Damion.
He then turned and waddled deeper into town with the goal of looking for work. He'd take anything a helicopter was capable of that was available, because he was desperate.
He ended up completing a full circuit of the town, and found nothing. Nobody needed staff, and he certainly wasn't going to work at the Honker's bar situated near the runway. He had someone to take care of now and he wanted to be at the motel room at night.
He stopped at the runway and looked out at it, taking in the fact that it was blanketed with thick snow which had yet to be plowed. Propwash Junction's runway appeared to be snowed in, which wasn't a good thing. He looked about for any sign of a snow plow, since the snow didn't seem to be falling as hard as it had been before, but all he spotted was a narrow patch of cleared snow and a pickup truck with a snowblade on its front struggling to clear some more.
Nick hopped over to them, curious as to why a whole army of snowplows weren't out to clear the runway. When he was close enough, he saw that the pickup truck was female, and that she was a silver Ford F-150 Raptor. She furrowed her eyebrows as she squinted her blue eyes with the effort she was putting into to clear the snow. The snow was wet and heavy, almost too heavy even for a pickup truck. "H-hey, miss?" Nick began slowly, the chill air making him stutter the first word he spoke.
"What would you like, sir?" she grunted, never stopping plowing, even though she was practically inching along. "I'm kinda busy right now, as you can see."
Nick paid her attitude no mind and cleared his throat. "Why are you the only one here? Plowing the runway, I mean. Shouldn't there be more snowplows out?"
"You tell me," she snarled with frustration, finally giving up for the time being. She reversed and faced him, frowning and panting from exertion. "Both of the airport's snowplows stayed home because one broke his blade and the other's got the flu. I run a plowing business during the winter in order to help the folks in town, but I have only one staff member, and he's busy plowing the streets. With all this heavy, wet snow, he's going to be there for a while. I'm the only one left to do the runway, since not too many people like to waste their gas trying to remove something that practically constantly falls from the sky during the winter."
Nick blinked in surprise at her tone. She sounded like a woman who had been working for hours, probably while people slept too, without getting much headway. "Um…do you have a job opening, then?" he asked abruptly, the idea appearing in his brain like a firework explosion.
The Raptor blinked in surprise. "What?" she asked.
"I asked: do you have a job opening?" Nick repeated. "It sounds like you need help. Badly." He was serious. "I just flew in yesterday—right now I've got no home and no money. I'm not trying to paint myself as a needy person, but I need a job and you need another worker."
"But you're a helicopter! You've got no wheels to drive on! How would you be able to push snow out of the way?" she asked incredulously.
Nick bobbed in a way that made it look like he was shrugging. "From what I heard, a cropduster managed to win a race that ran a lap around the world. If a plane meant for dusting crops could win a race like that, I believe a helicopter like me could push some snow." When he saw that she looked unconvinced, he added, "At least let me try out…please?"
For a few moments, there was nothing but silence and the sound of something grating against the ground somewhere in down. That must be her employee, Nick noted.
Finally, "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't want to have an employee I can't count on," she said, not really sounding sorry at all. "In this business, you only get so much money from the town counc—"
"I've got a kid!" Nick suddenly blurted. This shocked the Raptor into silence, and she gaped a little. The helicopter continued. "It's just me and my son. I just spent some of my last bits of money on a motel room for the next few days. I don't have enough money to spend on another day at the local motel. I don't want to pressure you…I'm just asking for you to give me a chance." Inwardly Nick cringed at the fact that he had to play the 'I have a child' card in order to get the woman to see how desperate he was. He also cringed because of the fact that Damion wasn't actually his kid, but was more of his charge. He only said that in hopes it would tug at her maternal side.
The Raptor's gaze softened. "You got a kid, huh? That desperate?"
Nick nodded.
The Raptor leaned to her left and gave Nick a once-over with her eyes. She hummed and pursed her lips for a little while. "Well," she said eventually. "I guess I can let you try… and if it all works out…how does ten dollars an hour at the beginning sound?"
Nick's eyes widened as he quickly did the calculations in his head. "R-really?"
"Mmhm," she said nodding once. "I'm willing to give you a chance. Just don't let me down, okay, Rotor-Boy?"
"R-Rotor-Boy?" Nick echoed, startled.
The woman continued on. "Meet me at the hanger with the sign that says 'Whitewall Plowing' in an hour. I'll go get a plow blade ready," she said, before abruptly looking him in the eye. "I'm Dakota Whitewall, by the way."
Nick smiled. "I'm Frank Poncherello."
The pickup truck woman smiled before turning and driving away, holding her plow blade up above the ground as she went so that it didn't scrape against the ground. Nick watched her go before he turned and quickly made his way back to the motel. Damion was right where he had left him, and his attention seemed to be glued to the TV.
Nick maneuvered closer to him and looked up at the screen. His jaw dropped a little when he saw himself on the screen, flying after the familiar criminal known as Ripcord Sanders, a tan 4x4 suped up Dodge Neon. He watched as CHoPs version of him performed his signature loop before diving down to catch Ripcord by hooking the tip of his left skid under the criminal's right fender. Nick watched as he flung the criminal down the block, where he landed on his wheels and his momentum carried him into the open back of a box truck sitting by the curb. Nick chuckled a little before his expression became sullen when Blade appeared on-screen, using his hoist-hook to close the back doors of the truck.
Nick turned from the TV and looked at Damion. "So…guess what?" he spoke up.
Damion looked up at him. "What's up?"
The helicopter grinned wide. "I think I've found a job," he said. "I have to go meet my possible boss in a little bit to see if I qualify, since I'm a helicopter and not a snow-plow or a pickup truck."
The boy blinked before he smiled. "So you're going to clear snow?" the boy bounced up from where he was sitting and hugged one of Nick's supports. "That's a great job! You'll be helping the community!"
Nick chuckled a little. "Yep. At least, I hope so. I have to prove myself to my boss first."
Before the hour was up, Nick left the motel room again and began to search for the hanger with the sign Dakota Whitewall had described to him. It turned out that it wasn't located all that far from the runway, so he wasn't running late when he waddled up to it. As he gazed up at it, he thought about how absurd he must have looked, hopping and waddling everywhere. In the city, he didn't have to worry about how he moved since he flew everywhere, but out here, the hangers were closer together, and he didn't want to bother anyone with the snow his blades would kick up as he started up or touched down. It was a real problem. I'm still considering switching my skids out for wheels, he thought. Blade could go anywhere with those wheels of his.
A grinding noise startled him out of his musings, and he watched as the hanger doors parted, revealing the innards of the building. Dakota was there with a plow on flatbed-kart in front of her. She smiled a little before she pushed it out of the hanger, and up to him. "Hello, Ponch," she greeted before pausing. "Is it okay to call you Ponch?"
Nick nodded with a chuckle. "It sure is," he said cheerfully as a pitty raced up to them from the side. "Makes my name less of a mouthful."
Dakota let out a low laugh before she turned to the pitty. Nick mirrored her and took in the new individual. The pitty was a soft lavender colour and had brown eyes. She was distinctly feminine in shape; and had tools stored at her sides in saddle-bag-esque tool-pouches. "Ponch, meet Dottie," Dakota said, introducing the two. "She's one of the best mechanics in town. I asked if she would help us get this plow hooked up to your front."
The pitty rolled her eyes. "You didn't tell me he was a helicopter, Dakota!"
The pickup truck rolled her eyes, as if she could sense an oncoming rant. "If I told you he was a helicopter, would you have come with me?"
Dottie was only half listening to what Whitewall was saying. "Helicopters are not built to plow snow—especially the snow that's fallen on Propwash this week. I can't list all the things that could go wrong! Strained struts, bent skids, nose fatigue—"
Nick stopped her right there. "I need to do this, Miss Dottie," he insisted. "I've got a kid to provide for." Inside, he cringed. Again…he really didn't want to make Damion's presence known, and there he went mentioning him again.
"Plus," Dakota added, "if a cropduster can win the Wings Around the Globe Rally, a helicopter can help me plow some snow."
"And this helicopter is no weakling," Nick stated with a chuckle.
The pitty sighed heatedly before she consented. "Alright, alright," she said, looking to the heavens for a brief moment. "But only because Christmas is rushing at us like a F-22 jet, and people are still coming to Propwash to visit family. I heard the air traffic controllers had to turn several planes away and have them land at another airport because of how much snow is still on the runway."
"Then let's do this," Nick said with a determined look on his face.
Dottie had the plow hooked up to Nick's front support struts in no time, having to basically go all MacGyver on it in order to get it linked to his systems and have it stay on his front struts without the risk of it falling down. Once she was done, she rolled back and gave him a once-over. Once she was satisfied, she said, "Alright, it should do for now, Ponch. But if you experience anything out of the ordinary, more out of the ordinary than having a plow blade hooked up to your front, don't wait to inform anyone. Alright?"
Nick nodded. "Thank you so very much, Dottie," he told the forklift.
Dottie smiled. "Just be careful out there."
Nick nodded. Dakota rolled up beside him and grinned. "Okay, Rotor-Boy, let's get back to the runway!" she quickly began to lead him back towards the runway, and he couldn't help but mentally roll his eyes at the apparent nickname Dakota had given him. He didn't like it all that much, but he figured he would deal with it until he got the job and didn't have to worry about how one misspoken word may cost him his chance of earning an income.
Back at the runway, Dakota received a call from the air traffic control tower. She looked up at it as she spoke, and it wasn't long before the call ended and she turned to look at Nick with urgency in her eyes. "We have to get going right away, and get this runway cleared as fast as we can. The air traffic controllers just got a call from a family of planes coming in from the south. They'll be here in about an hour, and they won't be able to circle around the airport for too long before they run out of fuel! We need to have this runway mostly cleared before they appear on the horizon, got it?" Nick nodded. "Good!" she exclaimed. "We'll start at the middle and work our way away from each other for maximum efficiency. The last thing I want to do is call Bubba away from the snow clearing he's doing in town, but I might just have to if we don't clear enough snow. So let's hussle!"
Nick watched as she lowered her plow and made her way out to the middle of the runway. It had stopped snowing for now, so they wouldn't have to worry about the snow building up on the areas they just plowed. Nick followed after her and managed to lower his plow as well, working to push it across the runway as fast as he could without slipping or straining something.
From time to time, he would glance over to check on Dakota's progress, and saw her zooming along, looking almost like she was in her element. Nick grunted, wishing that he could move faster, and it made him contemplate getting wheels once more. He would be able to plow faster if he had wheels…
Dakota slid to a stop next to him and grunted. "Ponch! Fly and plow, you dipstick!" and then she was off again.
Nick was a little unsure about the flying part due to the fact that his rotor-blades would kick up snow if he flew. Now his "boss" was encouraging it! With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, he powered up his rotors and lifted himself a foot or so from the ground. He tipped forward a bit so that the plow would still touch the ground, before he charged ahead. He lowered his visor down over his eyes to shield them from the blowing snow. The front-tips of his skids were mere inches from the ground, so he watched in order to keep them from hitting the ground as he went.
Plowing like this was definitely faster, but it required extreme concentration and skill in flying, which, fortunately, he had. But no matter how fast he was, when they had cleared most of the runway with about a hundred meters of snow left to plow, Dakota got another call from the control tower. She quickly raced over to Nick, and when he noticed her, he stopped plowing and landed. "What is it, Miss Whitewall?" he asked.
"The plane family I mentioned? They're ten minutes out. We gotta salt this runway before we get here. Leave the rest of the snow, they have plenty of room to land. Go get Bubba from in town and have him meet me back at the hanger so he can load up with salt. This is your chance to prove to me that you're tough enough to do all the things required to clear snow and make it safe for vehicles to travel," she said seriously. "Bubba is a blue and grey pick-up truck with a plow on his front and a gravel dispenser hanging from his tailgate."
Nick nodded, lifted his snow plow into a out of the way storage position and he rose up into the air. The plow weighed down on his front, but he ignored it and flew forward as fast as he could, glad it wasn't snowing. He scanned the ground below him, hovering not all that far above the hanger roofs. Few cars, planes, or vehicles were out and about because of the temperature and conditions, thankfully narrowing down the amount of time it would take to find this 'Bubba'. Nick smiled when he spotted the lone truck that fit the description that Dakota had given him.
The helicopter raced ahead of the truck and turned to face the truck before he lowered himself down between the buildings. He landed, but kept his rotors running nearly full-speed. "Hey!" he yelled over the sound of his own blades. "Are you Bubba of Whitewall Plowing?"
The pick-up blinked in surprise. "Who the heck are you?" he responded.
"I'm also an employee at Whitewall Plowing! Miss Whitewall sent me to find you! There's a family of planes coming in to land in a few moments and the runway needs to be salted! Whitewall wants you to meet her at the hanger so that you can load up with salt! It needs to be done, pronto!"
Bubba nodded before he raised his plow and took off down the road, towards the hanger, not even seeming to pause and contemplate who Nick was. Nick lifted into the air and followed the truck as he raced to the hanger and disappeared inside. Nick touched down outside the hanger and saw that Dakota was inside as well. Both Dakota and Bubba backed up to a large container with two dispensing stations under it. He watched as a gravel/salt mix fell into the dispensers hanging from their tailgates.
Once those dispensers appeared to be filled, the stations shut off and the two pick-ups raced from the hanger. "Thanks for getting him, Ponch!" Dakota called as she raced down the road.
Nick followed them from the air, and landed on the edge of the runway. He sat there and watched as Dakota and Bubba raced back and forth, salting the runway to the best of their abilities. The distinct sound of multiple plane engines reached his hearing, and Nick looked up to see the planes in the sky.
"My dispenser's empty!" Bubba exclaimed.
A few seconds later, Dakota echoed, "Mine is as well!" she sighed and quickly drove to the edge of the runway. "Good thing it covers most of it. The spread of the gravel and salt is a little thin, but I think it'll do. There wasn't much ice on the runway in the first place," she added as Bubba joined them. "I'll radio the tower and tell them that they can let the planes know they can land."
As Dakota talked with those in the tower, Nick stayed there with Bubba and watched as three planes landed on the runway. There were two females and one male. One female and the male appeared to be adults, and the other female appeared to be in her late teens. The adult female was sky blue and white in colour, and the male was silver and white in colour. The teenaged girl was hot pink and white with black zig-zagging stripes and accents. All three were cropdusters, and all three had sky blue eyes.
"Thanks for clearing the runway for us," the male said as they passed them as they taxied into town. "Have a very merry Christmas!"
"You too!" Nick grinned.
"Nice people," Bubba said before he turned around driving over towards where Dakota was parked. Nick turned and hopped over to the female pick-up truck.
Dakota was looking out at the runway, but turned when she noticed that Bubba and Nick were there. "Good job, you two," she said, grinning. "The forecast calls for no snow until after Christmas, so the runway should be good for a good long while." She looked at the male pick-up truck. "Thanks for coming when I sent Nick to go get you, Bubba." She then looked at Nick. "And thank you for showing up at just the right time!"
"Thank you for letting me work for you," the grin never left his face. "It'll help me and my son have a home for Christmas."
It turned out Dakota paid her employees after every day they had to clear snow. Though, Nick only worked for about an hour, Dakota handed him a check for $100, which was enough to pay for two more days at the motel. Nick knew that it wasn't enough to support them for very long, but it was a start. He was shocked that she would give him a bonus so soon, but when he brought this up with her, she merely winked and said, "It's Christmas, Rotor-Boy."
Nick returned to the motel room and quickly shuffled in from the cold outdoors. He shuddered from the drastic change of from cold to warm. He looked about the room as he pressed the button to close the hangar doors behind him, and sounds from the bathroom told him that Damion was probably finishing up in there. The helicopter moved over to the couch and settled down on it as he waited for the human boy to emerge, slightly excited to tell him about what had happened that day. He was also wondering about what the boy had been up to while he'd been gone. He hoped that he hadn't been up to mischief.
Damion walked out into the main room. A bored look was on his face until his eyes landed on Nick. His whole countenance brightened when he saw the helicopter. "Nick! You're back!" he cried as he rushed him.
Nick chuckled as the boy hugged him before sitting down on the couch next to him. "I'm glad to be back," he said. "I only worked for a little while, but the introduction to the job was a…extreme…all the same." He fixed Damion with a friendly stare. "So…did you behave while I was gone?"
Damion nodded. "Yep! Didn't do much…just watched TV. Watching cars, trucks, planes, and helicopters instead of humans acting out stories is…cool. I didn't get very bored, but I kinda wished I could go outside and walk around," the boy told him. "I wish that people wouldn't freak out if they saw me. It's…starting to feel like the room is closing in. I used to play outside almost all the time before I came here with you." The boy's face fell slightly, and sadness filled his eyes.
Nick saw his change of mood, and, for a moment, wished that he had arms to wrap around the kid. He had no idea about how much Damion grieved for his sister, that was why he was trying so hard to get him a home. He had gotten a job, and he was going to start getting money from it soon, so, maybe someday, they'd have a home. A sigh escaped him and he closed his eyes, sinking low on his skids as he did so. The TV continued to drone on, playing some show he'd never heard about before, but he didn't pay attention to it. He couldn't help but feel a little sad, and he wasn't quite sure why. Was it because they might be spending Christmas in a motel?
A firm knock on the motel room door jolted him from his somber thoughts, and he snapped his eyes open. He looked over at the door and moved to answer it, but froze when he heard the door mechanisms come to life. Mentally, he cursed, anger flaring up suddenly at the thought of someone not heeding the 'Do Not Disturb' sign hanging on the hanger door. He was also shocked, and thus, couldn't make himself move or speak before the door opened and a familiar pick-up truck rolled in.
"Hey, Ponch, I forgot to tell you some—" Dakota began before stopping herself. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of Damion.
"Uh…" Nick dragged out the word, his mind suddenly blanking from the shock of it all. After some effort, he managed to get his mind working again. "Um…D-Dakota? Come in, and close the door."
Dakota's shocked expression didn't change, but she rolled farther in and pressed the button to close the door behind her. The door closed and she continued to stare at Damion in astonishment, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. It was making Damion extremely uncomfortable, and Nick could sense him beginning to squirm behind him.
"Dakota…I would like you to meet my…son," Nick said slowly, carefully, hoping to high heaven that she wouldn't freak and end up attracting attention. Slowly, he moved off to the side, allowing Damion to enter Dakota's line of vision once more. Damion visibly shrank under Dakota's gaze, eyes wide with fear. "…Dakota, this is Damion," Nick bobbed to the human. "Damion, this is my boss, Dakota Whitewall."
Silence reigned supreme within the motel room. Nick continued. "He's…what is called a human," he explained carefully. "He's from…another world."
Damion managed a small wave, but he was unable to meet Dakota's ice-blue gaze. The woman's eyes seemed to soften after a few moments. She looked at Nick. "Another world?" she repeated. She carefully inched closer to the boy and smiled softly, trying to appear gentle. "Hello there," she greeted. "So you're the little man that Ponch's taking care of. How sweet."
Damion appeared very shy, which Nick found very strange since when he first met him, the boy had been very bold. "I made a promise to his sister," Nick confessed. "His sister was dying, so I took him with me, adopted him."
Dakota smiled. "That's very nice of you, Ponch."
"So…you're not scared of me?" the boy asked quietly.
"No, honey," she said with a gentle smile. "How could I be afraid of a sweet little thing like you? I'm just a little shocked, that's all."
The female pickup truck now understood how dire Nick's and Damion's situation was, and it wasn't long before she thought of a solution.
Dakota owned a duplex not that far from the airport, having saved up for it and bought it during the summer season a couple of years ago. She lived in one half of the super-wide, divided hanger, and the other half had been left empty. She offered the empty half of the hanger to the helicopter and the boy, and told them, "If you accept, it'll make me feel a whole lot better when someone's guarding the home when I'm out hauling cargo in the summer."
Nick felt quite embarrassed—he was not used to situations such as this. When he was an actor, charity was non-existent. Dakota was quite charitable despite the fact that she seemed rough around the edges when she was at work, and Nick found he was having a hard time swallowing his pride in order to be able to accept her invitation.
"Thank you so much, Miss Whitewall. This means a lot to me—to us. I don't know how I will ever repay you," Nick managed to say.
Dakota grinned impishly. "Don't worry," she said. "Just by helping me out will be payment enough."
At the end of the days booked at Propwash Junction's only motel, Nick and Damion moved into the empty half of the duplex and settled in. In the beginning, the furnishings were sparse, but as time went on, the home soon gained more and more homeliness.
Nick had a feeling that they were going to do well here. Sure, it would take time before the routine of hiding Damion from public view almost constantly would become normal and comfortable. At least he wasn't the only one who knew about Damion anymore. It took Dakota a while to accept the fact that Damion was from another dimension, but the fact that she did or didn't really didn't matter. As long as she could keep a secret, everything would be fine.
Bubba was the pickup truck lamenting to the bartender at Honker's that his girlfriend left him for a hybrid. The one voiced by Brad Paisely lol.
I hope you liked it :) Sorry it took so long to come. I'll have it cross-posted to dA tomorrow.