Aren't you getting tired of these? I really should write more than just one-shots and songfics, but I kind of don't want to leave my comfort zone.

Anyway, Independence Day by Martina McBride. Lance style. Awh, yeah. Lance is remembering what happened to his parents, or, my version of it anyway. Oh, and do I own Evo or this song? Nah.


"Lance!" called Kitty from downstairs. "The parade's today! Aren't you, like, coming?" Lance sat on the checkered blanket on his bed. "Nah, I'm staying here, Kitty. Not a fan of Independence Day parades." "Alright..." she called back. He heard her leave. He knew he should be out with the others, but he had his own reasons for not liking the festivities on the 4th of July. And those reasons...

Well she seemed all right by dawn's early light though she looked a little worried and weak

She tried to pretend he wasn't drinkin' again but daddy left the proof on her cheek

I was only eight years old that summer

And I always seemed to be in the way

So I took myself down to the fair in town

On Independence Day

An eight-year-old Lance looked up at his mother at breakfast time. "Mama, your cheek's all bruised again. Did Daddy ever come home?" He was answered by his father storming into the room and shoving his stool aside. "Out of my way, boy." he growled. Lance pushed away his pancakes. "Mama, can I go to the fair today?" he asked. She was busy fixing his father's coffee, but she nodded in a distracted way. "Sure, angel. Just be home by lunchtime." As he left, he saw his father rise and strike her, yelling "Hurry up, woman!"

Well word gets around in a small, small town

They said he was a dangerous man
But mama was proud and she stood her ground she knew she was on the losin' end
Some folks whispered some folks talked but everybody looked the other way

And when time ran out there was no one about

On Independence Day

All the way down the road he could feel their stares, the people who knew about his father. He could hear their whispers. "Poor baby, living with that drunkard." came a voice from outside the general store.

Let freedom ring, let the white dove sing

Let the whole world know that today is a day of reckoning

Let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong

Roll the stone away, let the guilty pay,

It's Independence Day

Lance looked down at the checkered blanket and then up at the candle on his dresser. Suddenly he couldn't stand the sight of the fire and pinched it out. The flames were too reminiscent of what had happened all those years ago.

Well she lit up the sky that fourth of July by the time the firemen come

They just put out the flames and took down some names

And send me to the county home
Now I ain't sayin' it's right or it's wrong

But maybe it's the only way

Talk about your revolution

It's Independence Day

Little Lance stood on the sidewalk and stared at the burning shell of his home, tears streaming down his face. The fireman next to him put a hand on his shoulder and turned him around, led him to the car, and put him inside. He struggled against the social worker for a minute before throwing himself across her lap, sobbing.

Let freedom ring, let the white dove sing

Let the whole world know that today is a day of reckoning

Let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong

Roll the stone away, let the guilty pay,

It's Independence Day

Lance felt a tap on his shoulder and looked up to see Pietro. "Hey. Everything okay?" he asked. Lance nodded. "Why shouldn't it be?" "Well, you're crying, for one." said the silvery speedster, sitting down next to Lance. Lance wiped at his face. "Hey, why don't you come watch the parade and the fireworks with everyone else?" asked the Polish boy with a smile. "It'll cheer you up." He patted the rockstar on the shoulder and pulled him up. "Okay?"

Roll the stone away it's independence day

Lance smiled at him. "Alright... after all, it is Independence Day." He folded up the blanket, put the dishes to one side, and went to join the festivities and make a new memory for Independence Day.