The Breakfast Club Continued

By: Sauron

(I dedicate this fic to the members of Anarchy; they're my fellow TBC fans and my friends. Panny, Hotaru, AnonymousPHancock, Kiro, basketcase, Impossible, Azure, Valaraiya, basketcase288, Germankid, Nic, wipeout, 2cool4-school, Leatherface555, Bender, pairAdice and all future members, this is for you guys)

(Disclaimer: I don't own TBC or any of the original characters from the movie, John Hughes does, blah blah blah)

Chapter 1: The Brain's Saturday Night

Saturday, March 24, 1984. Shermer High School, Shermer Illinois 60062.

Dear Mr. Vernon, we accept the fact we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday for whatever it was we did wrong. What we did was wrong, but we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are. What do you care?

You see us, as you want to see us, in the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions. You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess and a criminal. Correct? That's t he way we saw each other at 7:00 this morning. We were brainwashed.

The ride home was strangely sad, but after an experience like today, who wouldn't feel at least a little emotional. Today was different; it would always be special to those involved. Five teenagers walked into Shermer High, and five different people walked out.

Shit what a day.Brian thought, it was a day he would always remember. The day he regained his sense of self worth, got high, cried, and most of all, was seen as a human being instead of a brain or an investment. It wasn't in front of anyone, but for once he was accepted for who he was by people who wouldn't give him a second glance. But the euphoria of the ordeal fell away as his thoughts returned to the inevitable question about Monday.

"Um I was thinking, I know its kinda a weird time but what's gonna happen to us on Monday? When we're all together again? I mean I consider you guys my friends. I'm not wrong am I?

"No" said Andrew looking a little downcast.

"So on Monday, what happens?'

"Are we still friends you mean, if we are friends now that is?" asked Claire with tears in her eyes.

"Yeah."

"You want the truth?'

"I don't think so." The conversation that followed was the one thing Brian remembered best, cause that's where he admitted having the gun in his locker. The memory of the gun's discovery on Thursday afternoon returned to him.

It was lunchtime, everybody was in the cafeteria and Brian was sitting as usual at the back table with his friends. Ted was acting like the big ladies man he thought he was, Anthony was scribbling down his theories of physics, Harry was desperately trying to finish his homework and Brian was sitting there going over his thoughts. He had the thing that would end his troubles in his locker; he just had to get it.

"Excuse me guy's I'm gonna go to the restroom." Said Brian, standing up and walking towards the doors. He only now realized he bumped into John as he walked out the door, but he didn't know him then and he wasn't concerned with the people in the cafeteria. He walked down the long cold halls of the school; they never seemed more vase and empty, as if they were mirroring his feelings. His thoughts were on the reaction his mother and father had to his F, their disappointment, their anger; he remembered how ashamed they said they were of him. He couldn't take the look on their faces; he couldn't handle the way they looked at him like he wasn't their son. He finally reached his locker, and the gun inside it. He opened it and there it was, the flare gun his dad kept in the attic from his days of deep-sea fishing back before he and his mom met, when he still lived on the east coast. It was time like this that Brian was glad his locker was so out of the way, the classrooms were further down the halls and all the students and faculty were never around at lunchtime, leaving him to his thoughts. Brian held it in his hand, he stood there for 5 minutes trying to decide if he should do it or not. He looked in his locker and there was the bain of his existence, the elephant lamp. He remembered hearing he failed the project; his eyes teared up at the thought. He quickly dried his eyes, and put the gun to his head…but he couldn't do it. He wanted to but he didn't have it in him, he just set it back inside the locker and began to walk away as Mr. Ryan walked around the corner.

"Hello, Mr. Ryan." Brian said trying to hide his nervousness.

"Hello, Mr. Johnson, how are you…"Mr. Ryan didn't have time to finish the sentence because at that moment a huge bang resounded through the halls and a burst of fire was expelled from Brian's locker. Brian and Mr. Ryan fell down on the floor and looked at the locker, the door was blown open and scorched black with ash, smoke billowed from it, burned shreds and pieces of books and the elephant lamp were all over the hall, Mr. Ryan was shocked, but Brian was horrified.

"M…my God! Who…whose locker is this!" Asked Mr. Ryan. Brian was beyond afraid, he was in full-fledged panic and he said it before he even realized it.

"M…m…mi…m-m-m-mine."

Brian had been caught in the worst circumstances a student could get into: having a gun a school. He wasn't used to getting into trouble at school, let alone something that you could get expelled for; he felt a fear that he had never known even with his parents. He got Saturday afternoon detention, and considering his parents, it was like he got leprosy. He was lucky that Vernon didn't call his parents or he would be dead before he got home, this gave him a chance to make up an explanation for a detention. He knew they wouldn't be happy with any explanation for a detention, so he decided to go with being caught cheating on a test. He couldn't tell them about the gun, they'd probably want to stick him in a nuthouse till he was 50, an then send him back to some school to get him in shape for a life of dead end brainy job like a computer programmer or something. When he told them about the detention, they were so angry he thought they might actually beat him, but instead they sent him to his room to finish his homework without dinner.

He wasn't looking forward to detention, but at least he got out of the house for a while, and now he wished he was back in the library. He told those people, those friends, about his attempted suicide and they were there for him, he didn't want to lose that. What if Claire was right, what if we just aren't meant to be friends? The more he thought about their little group therapy, the more he thoughtmaybe she's right about us.But this was immediately followed by the voice of hope.No, not after today, they felt the same thing I did. It may not cause a big change but we have a connection.It tore him up inside, these people were his friends and he was worried whether or not they'd even look at or remember him the next time they were all together.

"We're home." Brian was jolted out of his thoughts by his father's voice "you ok? You've been awfully quiet, did something happen at the Breakfast Club?" his dad asked.

Hearing that question and that name used, Brian couldn't help laughing, much to his father's confusion. After he got to his room he sat on his bed and thought about his "friends" Allison, Claire, Andrew, and Bender. He usually hit the books Saturday night, but tonight he decided to write a letter to his pen pal Hotaru, maybe she'd have some advise about the situation.

Dear Hotaru

Hi, it's Brian. How are you and your sister doing? I had an interesting experience today; I got a detention and I made some friends. They're all so different than me, one's this really big jock who's on the wrestling team, one's a weird girl who steals and says random things, one's a very pretty popular girl and one's this tough rebel who doesn't care what people think of him. When I got there today, we didn't know each other, but by the end of the day we were like best friends. But I doubt we'll stay friends when we get back to school, we're all in different levels of high school and we've all under a lot of pressure. I've thought about what to do, but I'm stuck. Any ideas? Thanks.

Love your pen pal Brian

He reflected on the day until seven when his mother called him down to dinner. Dinner was quiet, even his sister, who was an infamous chatterbox at dinnertime, was silent. His parents didn't say a word the whole time; they all just sat there and ate not even looking at Brian. It was the most uncomfortable meal ever, and considering the lunch with Bender's imitation of his dad, that's really saying something. Brian knew the tension was because of him, which did little to improve his appetite or mood. They sat there eating his mom's lasagna for a half hour before his mother finally broke the ice.

"So, how was detention?" she asked.

"It was fine." Brian said shortly, not wanting to go into detail.

"Did you get any studying done?" she asked in a nagging tone.

"No. Uh we had to, um, had to do this essay about who we, who we think we are."

"I see. Well I hope you learned something about yourself today, and about cheating. You're to smart for that sort of thing."

"I have mom." Brian replied. He really did learn something about himself today.

"Good, then I expect that will be your only detention."

"Yep." He said glumly.

After dinner Brian went back to his room and read a little Molet, the work of one of his favorite authors helped him relax a little. He thought about the day's adventures, going to Bender's locker, the critique of his lunch followed by an impression of his home life, getting high, writing the essay; it was the best day of his life. He wished he was back in detention, talking about meaningless crap and serious feelings, he missed his "friends", and he just missed the Club. He hated the pressure of being a good kid, of always having to be not good but great, of always having to live up to everyone's expectations of him, of having to be smarter than Einstein himself.

He knew he was a goody two shows but did he have to be branded that way forever, was he doomed to be a doormat for everybody else for the rest of his life? More than anything else, he was scared of ending up as one of those people who let everyone else make his decisions, who was so obsessed with being what everyone else expected him to be that he wouldn't even notice that his life had past him by. He hated the world for pressuring him like this, but he hated himself more for letting them push him around, he hated that he was trapped as a person who could never speak up or talk back. He saw what it was like to be free of that pressure today in detention, he was free to be himself instead of what he was supposed to be, and he loved it. He wished he could talk to them again but he didn't have any of their numbers. He wished he could've found a way to talk to them before Monday but being grounded made that impossible. He sat at his desk thinking about the day until he nodded off to sleep on his copy of Lord of the Rings.

(Feedback and constructive criticism is welcome. Hope you liked it, cause there's a lot more to come) TBC