A spin-off one-shot of what I would have liked to see happen in Under the Dome's 1x11 episode: 'Speak of the Devil'.
Lots of WHUMP in this one. No inappropriate content or swearing.
Angie and I stare up at the sky, watching as the furious tornado clouds fade away as if they never existed. She starts to laugh, not because there's anything funny about the situation, but because the adrenaline shock has suddenly subsided.
"What happened?" I ask, still unsure.
"You made it stop, Junior!" Angie insists, looking to me again. "The dome wants us to stay together, and now that you've come back it's not angry anymore."
I feel a small grin begin on my face. Not because I've made the dome happy, but because I've made Angie happy. We're so close together right now, sitting up on the grass where I knocked her out of the way of the bench swing that could have killed her. She seems to realize this, and rises to her feet. I force myself to not care. It doesn't matter. It doesn't mean anything. She said she needed me, even if it was only because I wouldn't have gone with her otherwise. She still said it...
"Come on," Angie says, motioning in the direction of my police car parked on the curb. "We've got to get back to the mini dome. Before another psycho storm starts again."
"Yeah," I agree, pushing away the warning bells in my head reminding me of Dad's orders to stay in the house. "Go to the car, I've got to grab my gun."
"Why do you need your gun?" Angie asks warily, voice full of mistrust.
"I'm a cop, Angie. I need my gun to keep the town safe. And you." And me... A voice in my head reminds. I don't know what Dad got himself into with that lady, but he seemed genuinely scared for me, something that is unbelievable enough. How could I just be ignoring what he said? Because Angie's here, and she needs me. But Dad needs me too...
My mind has already been made. Angie has always been my top priority, and I'm not changing that now. She looks at me for a moment before nodding and hurrying to the car. I turn back to the house and run up the porch steps and through the still open door. I look on the floor for my rifle, but it's not there. A sudden, unfamiliar fear beats in my chest as my eyes scan the house around me. I'm not used to being scared for my own life; I've always known how strong I am and how to defend myself. But now the worry is heavy, and I begin to back up, ready to race out the door.
Something hard slams into the side of my head, sending me to the floor. My energy snaps into action instinctively, clearing my blurry vision. Towering above me is a large man in a black shirt and jeans, holding my long rifle in his burly hands. I roll to the side and onto my feet, managing a punch to the man's shoulder before his fist collides with my unprotected stomach. I stagger back as the air is sent from my lungs, knocking a vase off a table as I bump into it. The shattering sound is loud, and I can only hope that Angie has heard it and will go and get help. The thought of her running inside and-
My thoughts flash out of my mind as the man makes another move for me, but I'm able to duck under his arm and out of immediate danger. I bring my foot around his leg to kick behind his knee and trip him, unprepared when he grabs my arm and uses my weight against me to throw me to the ground. A pained grunt comes from me as my shoulder slams against the solid wood floor.
I'm unable to block the kick to my ribs. Or the next. Or the yells of pain. My head feels fuzzy from it, but I manage to scramble back to my feet before another powerful foot hits me. I need a weapon...Need a weapon...There are knives in the kitchen.
I dart out of the entryway and through the dining room, into the kitchen. My attacker matches my movements, his steps just a little faster than mine as my head is pounding violently. I back up slowly towards the knife drawer, ready to dodge an attack. The man sends a punch for my face, but I duck just in time, forcing the drawer open as I do. I grab the most convenient knife from the drawer and make a swipe at my attacker, catching the arm which holds the rifle. He growls in pain as the gun falls from his hand. I move to grab it off the tile floor, but the man brings his elbow back, making it collide painfully into my nose. I keep my grip on the knife handle tight as I stumble into the dining room, falling onto my back.
The man picks up the rifle, raising it to shoot at me. I grab the end of the gun and point it up, aimed at the ceiling. The rifle fires, creating holes in the plaster. My attacker twists the gun while pushing me back, and the knife clatters to the floor, out of my reach. I collide with the edge of the dining room table, straining against the man as he continues to force me back, so that my upper body is on top of the table. I wrestle with him against the gun, feeling myself slipping further onto the table until I'm completely on it. The rifle fires again as the man tries to aim to kill me. The bullets go straight through the table near my head, sound deafeningly loud at such a close distance.
With all the strength I can muster, I roll to the side, forcing the man onto the table with me. The wood creaks loudly underneath our weight as I block my face from his fist. Pushing my feet against the man's stomach, I kick him off of me and onto the floor with a loud smack. At the same moment the table relents under the extra strain, sending me down with it.
I scurry to my feet, heading to the entryway and the door outside. A strong hand closes around the back of my belt, pulling me to the ground violently. I fall onto the man, and he quickly smacks his hand against my mouth and nose. I struggle against him, fully aware that it won't be long until I run out of air, but he pulls my back against his chest, holding me in place. I fight for breath against his calloused hand, a desperate feeling starting in my throat.
I kick his ankle hard, bringing my elbow back to his shoulder at the same time. His grip loosens, and I throw myself from his grasp, taking a big gulp of sweet air. I run to my feet and into the entryway. It's only a short second until my attacker is in front of me again.
He raises the rifle evenly to my head. I rush below the barrel and bawl into him full in the chest. The momentum and power sends us out the front door and tumbling down the small stairs. My head smacks back painfully onto the ground. I no longer have the energy to get up, and just lay there on my back, horror flitting through me as I know what's going to happen now.
The man comes to tower above me once again, this time resting the end of the rifle against my throat. He pulls the safety back.
"Junior!" Dad's angry and scared voice calls out.
My attacker reaches down in a flash, grabbing my hair and violently using it to force me to my feet, creating a human shield to protect him from the gun held in Dad's hand. I hiss in pain as I feel like my scalp will be ripped out, and then I'm just utterly exhausted. The man tightens his grip on my rifle, using his free arm to wrap it around my neck in a fierce headlock, blocking off some air.
"Don't move or I'll snap your son's neck." He bellows. Dad's stance falters, his normal confidence long forgotten. I look behind him to see Angie standing by the car, doors still wide open. She looks so scared, but whether it's for my life or because I'm the fourth hand, I'm not sure. It's hard to know her true intentions these days.
Dad's eyes focus on something behind me for just a second, and as I'm trying to see what it is, a shot rings out. The man holding me jerks forward, sending us both to the ground. My first thought is that I've been shot. I've been shot and I'm going to die.
But then I realize that I don't feel any pain. Not the pain that would come with being shot, that is. In an instant Dad is beside me, shoving the burly man off of my back. A quick glance at my attacker shows a red spot between his shoulder blades, growing ever bigger.
"Look at me, son!" Dad says loudly; grabbing my face and making me turn to him. I pull myself to a kneeling position, now level with his worried face. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." I am fine. But still far from it. I hurt all over, fatigue setting in full force.
Barbie comes over to the dead man, holding a gun, and I realize that he must have shot him in the back. I don't like the fact that I owe my life to this man, who has already caused too much trouble in my life as it is. But I'm also grateful. "Thanks." I say to him awkwardly.
He takes a deep breath, only giving me a quick once over before looking back to his victim. "Don't mention it."
Angie runs across the lawn, standing beside Dad. "What happened? One moment you were going to come to the car and the next I see someone attacking you through the doorway! Who is that?" She yells, fright mixing in with confusion.
"Why were you going to the car?" Dad demands, forcing my attention back to him. "I told you to stay in the house!"
I get to my feet and wipe blood from my face where it's collected from my nose. "I had to do something." I say defensively. I can't tell him about the mini dome, I know that. And I also know that he won't be able to understand why I was going to leave if he doesn't.
Dad looks from me to Angie incredulously. "You were going to go against my orders because you had to go somewhere with your ex-girlfriend?" His voice is laced with anger.
"You wouldn't understand!" I say in a low voice.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Dad's voice is low as well; threatening. He takes a step towards me, and even though he is shorter than me, part of me still feels small. Like I always was as a kid. Afraid of my own father ever since my mom died.
"Nothing." I leave him and walk towards the car. I don't want to fight him, especially after what just happened. The sound of a gun going off makes me jump and whirl around. Dad has his pistol in his hand, pointed towards the sky.
"I told you that woman wants to get to me through you, and that you weren't safe, and to not open the door for anyone but me!" He says angrily. "And what do you do? You open up the door for a girl and leave the house. And then you nearly get yourself killed! What will it take for me to get it into your thick head that the things I do are to protect you, and going against me will make everything go wrong?" He's yelling now, taunting the anger rising up inside of me.
"I'm not a kid anymore!" I shout back. "I can take care of myself!"
"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen-" Angie protests loudly, eyes wide.
"Shut up!" Dad bellows, firing his gun a few inches from where Angie is standing. She screams and jumps away, backing up to Barbie quickly.
My anger bubbles over now, and I don't even try to quell it. With an angry growl I barrel into Dad, knocking us both over. I fall on top of him and force the gun out of his hand, pointing it at his chest. He freezes not daring to test my nerve. "No one threatens Angie." I breathe. "Stay away from her."
"Whoa, hold up!" Barbie shouts, coming over to us and leaving Angie to stay frozen in fear. "Just...calm down."
I point the gun in his general direction, letting a shot out. He dodges away from it quickly, although I wasn't aiming to hit him. I look down to Dad's face, instantly recognizing the familiar twinkle in his eyes. My stomach drops, and I get up, throwing the gun away in disgust. "I'm not you." I insist. "I'm nothing like you." I give Angie a pointed look, and she comes over to me warily. I direct her gently towards the car and follow her, not even looking back.
"Oh but you are like me, Junior!" Dad shouts behind me. I stop walking, shoulders stiffening. But without another word I follow Angie to the car. I've made my choice.
I hoped you enjoyed! I would have liked to see that happen in the episode, but at the same time if it had then I would have never gotten to write this, which I really enjoyed doing!
I'm guessing everyone will already know this, but the man that attacked Junior is that dude that was always with Maxine. In other words, her henchman.
When the season started I really hated Junior, but now I love him. I know I can't be alone on that...Right?
I hope the fight was believable. I read so many fanfics where the characters are either superhumanly strong or out-of-character weak.
Please leave reviews! :D