{ EDIT: I've changed a few things, fixed some of the grammatical errors, took out and added a few sentences, etc. I have a horrible habit of using an excessive amount of commas! I also can't write fight scenes for shit. Whoops. See the end of the chapter for the other note. }
Long time no see! I finally completed this chapter as you can see and it took forever. Albeit, it was totally worth it to feel accomplished. I'm still a little busy even though it's summer but I still have a decent amount of time on my hands. Hopefully, I'll be able to have quicker updates than I usually do.
Man, I've edited and revised this so many times I don't think I can bear to even look at it anymore.
That said, I don't know when I'll manage to have the next chapter up. I also want to pay attention to my original works so my attention will definitely be divided. My guess is that the next chapter will be up within the next month.
Additionally, I'll leave a list of some of the songs I listened to while working on this at the bottom if you're interested in expanding your playlist.
Warning: Zak may be OOC in this fic, more so in the beginning. However, there is an actual reason.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Secret Saturdays, nor do I own any of the characters that come along with it.
Voices came from the darkness, taunting him.
"You tell me how it's remotely possible that our son is the reincarnation of some ancient Sumerian evil cryptid!"
Guilt. Anguish. Identity?
"We merely wish to freeze him in cryogenic storage…"
Betrayal. Hurt.
"The loyal ones will always know."
Confusion.
"You are all Kur and your destiny is set."
Anger. Despair.
"My people have a proposition for Kur."
Desperation. Tiredness.Isolation.
"No." His voice was hoarse, "No, oh god, no." He vigorously shook his head, "Please, oh god, no."
"The world already thinks he's some kind of monster."
Pain.
He was covered by a thick blanket of velvet darkness; stark cold and empty.
Lonely.
His entire body erupted in sparks of tingles which gradually intensified until he felt as though he was engulfed in flames. He opened his mouth to scream, only to come up short as blood bubbled in his throat. He gasped, he couldn't breathe! He squirmed and a wave of sheer panic rushed through him; he was tied down. The only movement he could make was the slight nod of his head, his limbs restricted to a metal table. Struggling to break free, he hacked up blood and an odd green liquid, both coated his throat and made him gag. He squeezed his eyes and grew more panicked when he realized that something was holding his eyes down. Great, even more frustrating, he couldn't even see! Whatever it was was slightly lightweight and sticky: tape. He couldn't see anything, couldn't move, and had no recollection of where he was or what even happened to make him end up in this situation. Fantastic. He was vulnerable but he was determined to remain defiant. Whoever did this to him was in for a hell of a time trying to make him submit, he was Zak Saturday and he did not give in.
He heard a slight murmur of a familiar voice and listened closely to his surroundings. He used his heightened cryptid senses to his advantage as he waited for any bit of noise, any intimation that someone- or something- was around. He heard the soft murmur of voices that sounded like they came from down the hall, quiet footsteps becoming louder as they drew closer. His body jerked and pulled at his restraints. They felt cold and metallic against his wrists, he could only guess that they were chains. There was the slight sound of a door opening, the voices now clearer.
"What is Kur's current status?" The voice was cold, almost robotic. He suppressed a shiver at the thought of how someone's voice could become that unfeeling; he decided that he didn't really need to know. The voice did sound familiar, though. He shifted through his memories to try to see if he could remember this person. Not just to satisfy his curiosity but it also may give him an idea of how to get out if he knew who it was.
"While Kur's body is starting to become affected, his mind is still resilient towards the transformation." The second voice, while less stiff and formal, was also hollow and robotic sounding.
The first voice clicked their tongue in slight annoyance.
'Well', he mused, 'at least they are capable of emotion.'
"Give him another dose."
"That may not be the best idea, sir." The second person seemed almost reluctant of correcting the other; Zak realized that the first must be the boss. He knew that the second person didn't hesitate due to any kind of compassion towards him, no. He figured it was more along the lines of needing him alive to complete whatever plans they seemed to have for him.
"You will obey me. When I tell you to do something, you are expected to complete the task, no matter what it is. Do you understand?" Zak wished he could roll his eyes, this person was a total jerk.
"Yes, sir. Please, forgive me." He could practically feel the other's embarrassment and would feel bad for them if he wasn't, oh, tied down.The other person left the room to, he assumed, get whatever they planned on dosing him with again.He swallowed his anger knowing that they had dosed him once already, something he had no recollection of. He relaxed his clenched jaw; his mother taught him how to stay calm in stressful situations, he could handle this. Being angry wouldn't help him. If he were to escape from whatever this place was, he'd need a clear head.
As the second person left, he could hear another pair of footsteps entering the room.
The boss' tone was considerably less agitated when he spoke this time, "Ah, just the man I was in the need for."
"Forgive me for my tardiness, I was…delayed." Zak nearly gasped when he heard the new voice.
'EPSILON?' He should've known! Only he and "his people" spoke in that cold, creepy voice. He bristled, Epsilon and the rest of his creeps would pay for doing this to him.
"It is quite alright, Epsilon. Were you successful in your mission?"
"Yes, of course." There was the slight sound of a folder scraping against Epsilon's trench coat as he handed it to his boss.
A few moments passed as the other man skimmed through whatever was in the file, Zak could guess that the man was satisfied when he didn't hear a sound of disappointment.
"Excellent, Agent Epsilon."
"Is Kur ready?" Zak growled under his breath. He hated being referred to as Kur and, of course, that's what Epsilon called him.
"Not quite. Agent 8635 is currently retrieving a second dose of the serum. While Kur's body is responding to the treatment, his mind is still resisting."
"I see. May I suggest a third dose?" Zak mentally groaned, Epsilon was going to be the end of him! A second dose would be hard enough for him to fight against, but a third? He didn't know what they were planning or what the serum even was.
"Agent Epsilon." By normal standards, his tone didn't sound very shocked by the suggestion but by Grey People standards, he could tell that the man was appalled. "A third dose? Are you insane? The boy will die if we administer that amount to him all at once."
"With all due respect, the Saturday family has often shown an odd ability to survive even in the worst circumstances, the boy especially. A third dose is the only way to contain him entirely." Weird, that was almost a compliment.
The other man clicked his tongue in contemplation, thinking this over. A moment of silence before, "Very well Agent Epsilon. When Agent 8635 returns, I shall send them to retrieve the third dose."
Zak's hands twitched at the man's words, he only hoped they wouldn't notice. He was anxious about what would come; he wasn't afraid, no. He was a Saturday, he could handle this. He was, however, admittedly nervous and wanted nothing more than to be back home in his family's waiting arms. His family! How long had he been gone? They must be worried sick about him! He mentally shook his head, no, he couldn't get distracted. They could wait but he couldn't, time was now of the essence. If he didn't take control of the situation soon he'd be too drugged to do anything to save himself. With a shiver, he realized it may be the last time he could do anything to save himself.
He couldn't mess up, he couldn't. Whatever reason they had for kidnapping him and drugging him he was sure it wasn't something he wanted to partake in.
Focus, he berated himself, you can get out of this, and you know it. You're a Saturday. He steeled himself. Things work out for Saturdays.
The door opened once again, presumably the agent that had left earlier returning with whatever serum they were planning on injecting him with- again. He ground his teeth, ready to put up a fight. The effects of the last dose were starting to wear off and he could already feel his body coming back to life.
They wouldn't know what hit them.
"Ah, Agent 8635, you finally were able to find your way back." He could hear the disappointment in the man's voice, expecting the agent to be quicker.
A prompt, "Sorry, sir," was all he heard in return.
"I now need you to retrieve the third dose."
The agent paused as if he may object but complied after remembering the previous conversation. "Yes, sir." The door opened and closed once more.
"Now, Agent Epsilon, I must be sure of this before we continue. Your dislike of the boy is not clouding your judgment, is it?"
"He may have corrupted Francis but I remain unbiased in my decision. This is for the good of the world and this agency." His tone was impartial but Zak could hear the undertones of Epsilon's dislike for him creep into his voice. Wait, corrupted Francis? What?Oh! He figured Epsilon meant the time when he gave Francis that little pep talk and convinced him to let him, Fisk, and Komodo go in Istanbul. Yes, he corrupted Francis. He wanted to roll his eyes at them or release the claw in their faces. Yeah, that would work too.
"Alright then. Would you prep Kur for the next dose? I will monitor his progress on the screen. I suggest injecting near the deltoid muscle this time. Changing the site of the injection may help increase the effects."
Epsilon rolled the sleeve of his shirt up and applied rubbing alcohol before injecting the substance into the syringe from the cylinder container it was previously in. Zak curled his fingers and counted to three before he let out a snarl and kicked Epsilon as hard as he could. The agent grunted in surprise and dropped the needle with a loud clang.
"Epsilon! Take care of the boy!" Zak jerked violently when he heard the door open, the other agent bringing in the third dose. Panic jump-started his body into attack mode. He kicked Epsilon in the side and groin, causing the man to groan in pain and slip to the floor. The other two agents helped Epsilon to his feet and injected the third dose into a syringe. One tried to hold him down but he refused to submit. He head butted them when he sensed they got too close and kicked one of the syringes out of one of the agent's hands. Someone- who he guessed to be Epsilon- held him by the leg and plunged the needle into his thigh. He jerked his leg before the agent could press the plunger of a needle down to inject the substance.
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" He lashed out, a yellow-orange light creating a haze over his vision. His powers were a storm inside of him, the panic and adrenaline crashing against each other, creating a powerful reaction. The orange light burned his eyes but he could feel himself becoming stronger with each second. Each quick rise of his chest was a wave of power, as though he were inhaling the fury, pure strength, and adrenaline that fueled his body.
"Contain the boy!" The occupants of the room yelled in shock when the chains were snapped. He quickly, and painfully, pulled the tape off his eyelids. He reached down and yanked the needle out of his thigh with a slight grimace of pain. One of the agents slammed their hand down on an alarm, wails of a siren carrying throughout the compound, alerting the others of the emergency. He launched himself off the table, lunging for Epsilon. The two collided and rolled, Zak landed punches while Epsilon deflected the quick, angry blows as best as he could.
Someone grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him off of the man. He reciprocated by placing his foot upon their knee and propelling himself backward over their head, landing with a soft thud. He swept his leg to trip the man that grabbed him, startling him and causing him to fall on his face with a slight moan of pain.
Agent 8635 put up a fighting stance and Zak flashed a cocky grin, able to see them through the orange haze. He cracked his knuckles and lowered himself on his haunches with one leg stretched out behind him. Without hesitation, he pounced on the agent, who held his ground. He spun, his leg coming around to slam into the agent's rib cage. The agent let out a dry cough and held their abdomen while Epsilon came up behind him. His body tensed and his elbows locked into place before he turned, his elbow colliding with Epsilon's stomach. He grabbed the agent's inner elbow with his other hand and pinched to disarm him of the syringe he was holding.
When Agent 8635 grabbed him around his waist, he rammed his elbow into the man's side where he had previously kicked him but the man did not relinquish his hold on him.
"Let me go you freak!" He sent a kick back to the man's groin but he missed and swore under his breath.
The agent chuckled darkly, "Freak? Kid, if anyone here is a freak, it's you, little Kurling." He harshly whispered into his ear, sending chills up his spine. The teenager growled. He didn't need the memories of Argost being brought up, especially not now when he has to concentrate and focus everything he has into getting out.
"How do you know about that nickname?" As far as he knew only Argost and his family knew about that nickname.
"We have our ways." The man's robotic voice was snide. He gripped him tighter, causing the teenager to bit his lip so as to not cry out. "So, Zak," He sneered, "how does it feel knowing you betrayed your own family just for information? Hm?" He secretly reveled in the crushed look on the teen's face that was quickly replaced with anger.
His laugh was bitter when he replied, "The same way it'll feel when I kick your ass, you creep." He struck his elbow onto the agent's nose with enough force to make the agent scream and release him. He spun on his heels when he heard Epsilon and the other agent come up behind him with several more agents in tow. They must've left to go get assistance. Huh, he hadn't even noticed that they left.
He threw himself at Epsilon, landing punch after punch until he struck the underside of the other's nose, much like he did with the other agent. He held in a smug smirk when blood began to flow from the man's nose. While Epsilon was distracted, he grabbed him by his shoulders and rammed his head into his knee before landing a hard knee to the groin, successfully knocking him to the ground where he hit his head once again.
The other agents formed a semi-circle around him, including Agent 8635 who was holding his nose. "Hmph, rookie, are we?" He snarled at the agent but the other didn't respond. The agents held up their weapons which were some type of gun but he wasn't sure what kind and he really didn't plan on finding out. Taking a deep breath, he centered himself and searched for a place to run without getting hit.
"It's over, Kur. Surrender now and you won't get hurt." An agent called out to him, she held a disdainful tone and even simpered, "Well, not any more than you already are." She gestured to Zak's abdomen but he refused to take his eyes off the agents even for a second. He narrowed his eyes but managed a bitter chuckle through the pain.
"Over my dead body." If they really had read his file, then they'd know his family's history of sheer stubbornness.
The woman sighed, "Very well." They all fired up their weapons until the lights shut off, causing alarm to everyone except for Zak. He thanked the Sumerian gods and quietly snuck away while everyone scrambled to turn the power back on.
"MOVE, BEFORE HE GETS AWAY! The boss' voice called out. Too late, suckers, he quietly snickered as he ran. He climbed into the ventilation shaft, figuring it would be a better escape route. He crawled as silently as the vents allowed, relying on his instincts to guide him through the maze-like compound.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he came to the end of the vents. He crawled out and landed hard on his feet. Pain shot up his ankles after he landed but he ran onwards, successfully leaving the building. He stumbled for a moment, overcome with relief. After a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure he wasn't being followed, he ran on, his entire body lighter with the sense of freedom.
His feet were barefoot and quickly became chilled from the snow that lay like dust across the ground. Zak shivered, only a thin shirt and a pair of shorts covered his body. Well, it wasn't like he exactly had the time to go look for proper clothing, even if he had known it was this cold outside.
He stumbled, exhausted from what he had just endured. He slumped to his knees, panting. He held his stomach and his eyes widened in shock when he felt a sticky substance wetting his fingers. Zak finally looked down to see what the female agent had been talking about earlier. His shirt was soaked in blood. He looked underneath, lifting the thin cloth and bit his lip when he saw stitches that had come undone. His initial reaction was that of shock, which turned to anger; they had cut him open, like a piece of meat. He sucked in a breath and tried to ignore the sting of pain, the adrenaline now completely worn off. He briefly wondered when shock would settle in but snapped out of his thoughts when he heard footsteps.
A figure approached the teen from behind and he, thinking it was one of the agents coming to capture him again, turned and rushed forward. He grabbed the figure by their arm, pulled them forwards and brought his fist back only to bring it forwards and threw a punch that took a lot of his mostly spent energy. The figure grunted in pain but managed to spin him around and grab him around the waist, and pulled Zak against them. With his back against the strange figure's chest, he took the opportunity to thrust his elbow into the figure's side like he did with the gray men. He used the last of his energy to flip the figure over by grabbing their arm and throwing them forwards. They landed with a painful thud and uttered a dry, crushed noise that came from the back of their throat.
He straddled the figure, ready to render them unconscious before realizing who it was.
"FRANCIS?"
The other teen rubbed his head, "Yes, and it would be appreciated if you would get off of me." Zak raised an eyebrow in suspicion but complied. Well, a little. He didn't completely get off, not quite trusting the former gray man. He did, however, ease up a little to let the other sit up comfortably. "How kind of you to injure the person that just rescued you."
Ignoring the quip, he scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. "Rescue? What're you talking about?"
The green-haired teen quirked an eyebrow and there was a slightly smug look that Zak would love to knock right off. "Who do you think shut the power off?"
He deflated, his shoulders sagged, and the bags under his eyes seemed more pronounced than before. "Oh…thanks...I guess." He shot him a suspicious look, still not trusting him. They might not be enemies anymore but they definitely weren't friends and he wasn't about to forget that. Not even if the other had saved him.
Francis rolled his eyes, "I'm not scheming some evil plan if that's what you're thinking."
"Uh-huh, and that's exactly what you want me to think, isn't it?"
Francis sighed, "Could we get up and stand, please?" Zak wanted to laugh, he was pretty sure this was the only time Francis had ever been somewhat polite to him. He crawled off and stood up, and looking down at the other teen, he offered his hand. Francis gave him a look and seemed as though he'd reject the offer but took it and even gave the other teen a grateful smile, though Zak was sure it was forced.
Francis shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around Zak's shoulders, "You should've grabbed a jacket, you idiot."
He rolled his eyes, "Yes, I should've. Y'know, in between the whole being strapped down to a table and having guns pointed at me thing."
Francis shook his head but couldn't hide his slight grin. "Guess the great Kur isn't so great after all." He held in a chuckle when the other teen lightly shoved him in retaliation at the name. "Well, come on. We'll go to a nearby diner and call your family. I can also try to fix that mess." He gestured to the collection of ruined stitches. "Just try not to freak out the owner with the trail of blood you'll no doubt leave behind like the usual mess you are. She may have a heart attack."
"Heh, how freaked out do you think she'll be?"
Francis forced his grin into a neutral expression but still managed to look contemplative. "Well, it depends, really."
"On what?"
"What we tell her." He laughed in his own Francis way and Zak couldn't help but join in, even if it was with Francis of all people.
"Thanks again, for, well, you know." He squirmed. "And not to sound ungrateful or anything, but why did you save me?"
The other remained silent as they walked towards the diner. Though, Zak could've sworn he heard Francis murmur, "Because you saved me."
He woke up in pants and held a hand to his chest, right over where he could feel his heart pounding painfully. The teen let out a sigh of relief, realizing it had only been a dream. Well, a memory, really, but either way it haunted him every night. It had been six months since he escaped the gray men's clutches. He could vividly remember every emotion that had stormed inside of him. The pain, the anxiety, the shock, the triumph and relief when he got away, everything. He checked the clock and groaned when he saw it was 3:21 in the morning. He pulled himself out of bed, knowing he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Might as well do something fun or at least productive, right?
He threw on a pair of exercise pants and a gray t-shirt went over the tank top he was wearing. He threw on a pair of Frye boots, they were his favorite pair because they made his footsteps silent and it easier to sneak up on people. He snorted at the memory of Fisk shrieking and literally jumping in the air after he snuck up on him one boring Sunday afternoon. He normally trained without shoes but figured it wouldn't hurt to practice with them on, seeing as he had to wear shoes on missions.
He headed down the long hallway that would take him to the training room, staying quiet so as not to wake anyone. He hoped his parents weren't in the room practicing their own moves as they sometimes did. When he arrived he flattened against the wall, listening for anyone that may be around. After he deemed the room empty he started with his usual warm-up of various maneuvers such as flips and high somersaults along with push-ups, pull-ups on the bar they had hanging on the wall, and a few laps around the large room.
He stretched for a few minutes before starting his newest routine. It went well for a while before he placed his hand in the wrong position, causing him to fall back onto the mat with a grunt. He held his stomach having had the wind knocked out of him and cradled his right arm which had been slightly bent when he fell. With a deep breath, he stood up and tried again only to land back on the mat less than half a minute later. He ground his teeth and tried once more. This time, he almost completed it until he fell flat on his back. He huffed in frustration, what was wrong with him today? Maybe it was the dream that was messing with him? And if he was going to be fair to himself, it was three in the morning and he wasn't exactly what someone would call a morning person.
He sat up, holding his hurt stomach and took in a few deep breaths, ignoring the pain in his arm. This wasn't going to stop him, he was determined to finish what he started. He'd keep trying for hours if it meant he'd perfect it. So, he stood and continued to practice, adding in new moves as he went. It was two hours later that his mother found him collapsed on the mats, chest heaving, and a goofy but proud smile on his lips.
Breakfast that morning was slightly unusual, well, for them. They all were in the living room, not having enough table space for everyone. Having taken a shower and changed into clean, non-sweaty clothes he relaxed with orange juice and a bowl of cereal.
He wore a pair of loose black sweatpants and his mother's old college sweatshirt. It was dark blue and had her and his dad's- as well as Van Rook's, he remembered, still guilty about the mercenary's death- college name printed on the front. Even in college, it had been large on her and ended up being huge and quite long on him despite the muscle he was starting to develop. He supposed it'd be a couple more years before he surpassed his mom in height but he was pretty close.
Whenever he wore the sweatshirt, he made it seem as though he only did so to please his mother- not exactly a lie, he does like making her happy- all the while secretly loving how soft and comfy it was. He remembered when his mom had dug it out while cleaning out her closet. She had excitedly called him over and showed him the sweatshirt and explained the story behind it. Apparently, it was partly responsible for his parents meeting and she thought it would be cute for him to wear it. At first, he had wanted to refuse. Being thirteen at the time, he thought the story of how his parents met was corny and kind of gross. Despite this, he let her put it on him and he caved, especially when he saw how happy it made her. Even his dad had smiled when he passed him wearing it.
When he had entered the living room, everyone was lying around. The television was off and it was quiet, though it had seemed as they had been talking before he had entered the room.
During breakfast, Zak was uncharacteristically quiet while Drew and Doyle argued over a recent event and its credibility.
"It was not a hoax!" Drew cried, annoyed by Doyle's disbelief. Typically, she and her husband were the ones butting heads about hoaxes and magic but Doc wasn't even touching upon the subject.
Fisk looked unsure of who to side with while Komodo wolfed down his breakfast. He looked over to his dad, who was reading a newspaper with a headline claiming that there were recent advancements in the scientific field. He sighed under his breath, same old, same old- even if it was a newspaper and not a news report on the TV.
Suddenly, Zon cried out, making him jump out of his seat. He cocked his head in confusion, didn't he feed her this morning? Even if he hadn't, she surely would've gone hunting for her food instead. Walking to the ramp, he hit the button that would open the airship's door and allow her back inside. They had stopped last night to refuel and were currently hidden on the outskirts of a small town in California. He cocked his head, what was the name? Oh yeah, Cromberg, that was it.
"What's wrong, girl?" The teen lightly pet her mane and looked outside to see if he could find what was causing her to freak out. With a quick thought of caution and maybe a hint of paranoia, he hit the button again to close the airship.
"Sweetie?" Drew called. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," He replied, "Zon's just a little weirded out by something."
"Alright, is she inside? We're about to take off." Drew rounded the corner, smiling when she saw her son petting Zon's mane while she softly cooed. The two walked back to the living room while Zon went to find a spot for her to rest.
The airship took off with a sudden lurch and headed for their next destination. They had heard several reports of cryptid activity last night but the worst seemed to be coming from the Palatinate region in Germany with reports of a creature that matched the description of the Elwetritsch.
With everyone still in the family room, it was easy to round everyone into the training room. Both Drew and Doc insisted that they train, Doyle just shrugged, not worried in the slightest while Fisk and Komodo went along with it.
Drew turned to Zak, "Sweetie, aren't you coming?" He just shrugged nonchalantly. "Really? You seemed pretty enthusiastic earlier this morning." She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip, giving him her 'motherly look'. At this point, everyone else had gone quiet and was watching intently with slight amusement as the scene unfolded.
He managed to look sheepish, "Sorry, kinda just woke up a little early this morning and decided to train."
She sighed. "Let me guess, bad dream?" He nodded and looked down at the floor. Her eyes softened with sympathy and concern. "Oh, honey." She clapped him on the shoulder. "Alright, let's just focus on the mission, for now, okay? But we're talking about this later." She was prepared for an argument but was surprised when he agreed. This only worried her more as she was expecting a fight from her often feisty-as-her son.
The walk to the training room was mostly quiet. When they got there, they stretched and began their own individual warm-ups before returning to the center of the room.
"So, how's this gonna work?" Doyle asked, ready to go.
"We can start with an obstacle course, then fight one-on-one," Drew suggested, also ready to go and do something.
"Heh, you better get ready then, Drew."
"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips.
"After all, you'll be the one picking your husband's sorry can off the floor when I'm through with him." He smirked, while he sometimes got along with Doc, he couldn't resist teasing.
"What, is someone so insecure that they have to show this 'macho pride'? What else are we insecure about, Doyle?"
"Doc!" Drew chastised, "Our son is right there!"
Zak clamped a hand over his mouth to hold in a snicker when he realized what his dad was alluding to. Doyle's face reddened in shock and Zak couldn't hold in his laughter anymore, bursting into a fit of giggles.
Drew face palmed. "Anyway, as the only mature person in this family-"
"Mature? Heh, I seem to recall a certain incident with a certain someone competing with me back in Canada to see who could rescue the most people." Doyle crossed his arms across his chest with a smirk. Zak smothered another snort.
Drew threw up her arms. "Oh, fine. No one in this family is truly mature."
Doc laughed. "It seems as though the most mature person here is Zak."
They all stopped to consider this. "The most mature person in this family is our fifteen-year-old son." Drew chuckled shook her head. "This family is too weird."
"Thanks, but I'm pretty sure I'm not the most mature person in this family."
"True, yesterday the kid was cracking jokes about-" Doyle was cut off by an elbow jabbed into his side.
"Shhh, they don't need to know about that." He whispered to Doyle, smiling nervously when his parents raised their eyebrows. "Anyway, weren't we going to train?"
Doc and Drew both shot him looks that told him it wasn't over but agreed to start training.
They all emerged from the training room, sweaty and out of breath, but satisfied.
Doc put a hand on Zak's shoulder, "Great job, son." He gave him a proud smile and rubbed his hair. "You're really improving with that new move of yours."
He grinned, "Thanks, I've, uh, been practicing."
"I noticed this morning." Drew piped in, shooting him a look.
He groaned. "Aw, come on mom, can't you let that go?"
"Nope, I'm a mom. It's my job to nag." Everyone laughed at his exasperation.
Doyle looked out the window for a moment but quickly took a double-take. "Uh, professor, unless Germany is code-word for the middle of nowhere, I'm pretty sure there's a problem here."
"What are you- what the?!"
"What's wrong?" Drew walked up to the airship controls and gasped. "Why are we in Iraq?"
"Guess the controls are acting up. Better go check on the engine." Doc and Drew landed the airship after taking it off air-pilot. They grabbed the toolkit and headed outside to check on the engine.
Before leaving, Drew glanced over her shoulder. "Don't cause any trouble while we're gone."
Zak laughed, "Come on mom, it's us."
She shook her head, "That's exactly why I'm worried." She gave them all another warning look before she left the airship.
Meanwhile, the rest of the family just sat around, bored out of their wits. Doyle and Fisk set up a video game, promising each other certain death or a least a smack down in said game. Komodo rested in front of the window to bask in the warm sunlight, Zon sat up in the rafters, while Zak paced back and forth, mumbling incoherently to himself.
Doyle noticed. "Uh, Zak-man, everything okay over there?"
"Hm? Oh yeah, sorry. It's just, well, okay, the last time this happened bunyips had gotten into the airship."
"So?" Doyle's arms were crossed across his chest, his posture relaxed and comfortable. His eyebrow was raised in question, but his eyes held the slightest bit of concern.
"So, it was Argost who put them there. So, if they're here, then what does that mean?'
"You're just over-thinking this, mini-man. Argost is gone and he ain't coming back, so don't worry, alright? If it is bunyips, they probably snuck in when we weren't looking."
He looked unsure but nodded, hoping Doyle was right.
"Good. So, you wanna play?"
"Yeah, sure." With a last anxious look around the airship, he joined Doyle and Fisk on the couch.
Drew sighed exasperatedly. "Are you sure you entered it correctly? We've all been pretty tired lately, maybe you just messed up the coordinates, Doc."
"I did not enter them incorrectly. I'm telling you, there's something wrong with the engines."
"Uh huh, then explain why nothing is broken or scratched, smart guy."
He sighed. "Maybe you're right, Drew."
She put a comforting hand on his shoulder and when she looked up at him, there was a slight quirk to her lips. "I usually am." She reached up to place a gentle kiss on his cheek, stroking the other with a soft, caressing hand.
There was a long stretch of silence as the couple gave the engine another look over.
Suddenly, Doc broke the silence. "Do you think it's time?" Drew sighed but nodded.
"I told him we'd talk about it, so it should be expected."
"How do you think he'll react this time?"
"Oh, I don't know, shut us out, the usual." Drew sighed again and leaned against the bulk of the airship. "Doc, what if he never gets help? Never accepts it? I can't take seeing him like this, Doc, I can't."
He pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I know Drew, I know." He rubbed her back soothingly, "I promise, we'll help him. No matter how much he pushes us away, we'll find a way to help."
She shook her head. "Why Doc? Why does he push us away?"
"He sees it as a way of protecting us, he doesn't want to hurt us with his problems."
Drew let out a small, sad laugh. "Yeah, that's our Zak." Doc cracked a grin, and placed one his hands on the small of Drew's back, the other grabbed the toolkit. The two worried parents headed back into the airship, silently practicing the upcoming conversation and hoping it would be better than they thought it would.
Drew put a hand over her mouth to muffle the coo that slipped when she saw her son's peaceful expression, a soft, genuine smile gracing his lips. He let out a hearty laugh when Fisk protested after Doyle won the game.
"Oh, Doc, look at them." She whispered, so as not to disturb the others. "They look so calm and happy. Can we really ruin the moment?"
"Unfortunately, we have to." He held up a hand when Drew started to protest, "I know but it's gone on for too long. Since he's in a good mood right now, maybe he'll listen for once."
Drew snorted. "That'll be the day." She sighed. "Well, let's get this over with." Doyle looked over, and seeing Drew's nod, put down his controller.
"Mini-man, we, uh, need to talk about something."
"Like what?" His focus was still on the game, both he and Fisk giving each other heated looks, intent on destroying each other in this round.
"Your dreams." Drew sat down on the couch, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and snapping him out of his focus on the game. Fisk put down his controller as well, interested in the upcoming conversation.
He looked up, analyzing the look in her eyes before he retorted with a simple, "No."
"Yes." Doc cut in, crouching down to be eye-level with his son.
"Look, it was just a bad dream. Not a big deal."
"Don't you dare, Zak. It was not just one bad dream and you know it. We all know it." He looked off to the side, finding something absolutely fascinating about the wall. "Zak, please. You need to talk to someone about this, it's obviously bothering you. They've obviously affected you, don't even try to deny it. If you don't get help, if we don't do something about this, I- I don't know what'll happen." He sighed and looked down at his feet, he already knew this argument was going to go nowhere.
"I'm fine, honest. There's nothing wrong." He looked up briefly and saw the looks on his everyone else's faces, they definitely didn't believe him. "Okay, so the scars aren't that appealing but they're not that bad."
"Not that bad?" Doc spoke up, "They carved you like a turkey, Zak." Zak bit his lip and looked back to the floor. Whenever he had to face any bad guy, he could look them in the eye without a single thought but being expected to open to his family about something he was uncomfortable about was pure torture.
"Yeah, but everything's fine now. It's all over, it's in the past, so just leave it there."
Drew huffed, "I am not going to leave it when I hear you whimpering and thrashing around at night. You scream, Zak, you scream our names and we all can hear it." Her eyes were welled up with tears. He looked to the others to see whether this was true; they nodded and he swallowed the lump in his throat.
/Brother, are you alright?/ Zak nearly jumped out of his skin but then remembered that it was Fisk communicating through their bond.
/Yes, how many times do I have to say it? Everything's fine./
/But mom and dad said-/
/Don't worry about it, Fisk./
"Zak?" His mother said, bringing his attention back to the rest of the family.
"Sorry, just got sidetracked."
"Look mini-man, we're all worried, okay? I know you don't want to talk about it but it may make you feel better. Maybe not but worth a try, right?"
Drew begged one more time, "Please, Zak, honey, please. You need to talk about it."
He could feel his anxiety start to rise and he knew he'd explode if he stayed any longer. He stood up and started to walk away when someone grabbed his arm and held him back.
"Where do you think you're going, young man?"
"Out." He replied, his hand starting to shake. He had to get away from here and cool off, breathe. If he stayed he'd break down in front of them and he knew he couldn't do that. He only hoped that they didn't notice the shaking; if they did, it'd be all over.
"No, you're not." Her voice was firm, telling him he'd have no way of getting out of this. "You are staying right here, young man. We are talking about this, whether you like it or not."
He yanked his arm back. "Oh, so you're allowed to decide everything I do now?!" He tried to make his voice sound angry but he couldn't help the small quiver that came out.
"Yes, Zak, we are your parents after all." Doc stood next to his wife and clapped a hand on his son's shoulder. The action, seemingly supportive, made his knees nearly buckle. He didn't want to be touched. It took everything in him not to throw the hand off of him.
He shook his head. "That doesn't mean you get to control every little thing I do!" His hands were shaking uncontrollably now and he could tell Doyle knew seeing the look he gave him.
"Since when did that stop you from disobeying everything we say anyway?"
"That's not fair!" Now the shaking had made its way up to his shoulders, starting to take over his body.
Drew crossed her arms across her chest. "Oh really? How, may I ask, is that not fair?"
"It just isn't!" He was borderline hysteric, his heart pounded and his frame trembled with each slight shake.
Drew sighed. "Baby, I know it must be hard for you to talk about-"
She was cut off by her husband, who had clutched his son's shoulder a little tighter when he realized they were shaking. "Zak…are you okay?"
The teen stared down at his feet, fighting the urge to scream that no, he wasn't. Drew's eyes widened when she noticed the trembling, "Sweetie, what's wrong?" She reached her hand out but he was quick to slap it away, shocking everyone including himself. He tried to stutter out an apology before backing away, shaking his head and then turning to run off.
"ZAK!" Everyone cried in unison. He ran to the door of the airship, slammed the button and sprinted down the ramp without so much as a glance backward. Drew started after him before an arm pulled her back.
"Let me go, Doc!" She cried, struggling against her husband's arms. "We have to go after him!"
He leaned his chin on top of Drew's head. "Sh, it's okay. Let him have some time to himself, he'll be back."
"But he could get hurt." She mumbled in desperation. Taking a deep breath, she collected herself and nodded. "Alright, but he better be back before dark or I swear, I'll find him, knock him out and drag him back here myself."
A moment of silence.
"Heh," Doyle piped in, "that went well." They all turned to glare at him. "What? Not funny?"
Fiskerton retorted in his owngarble and shook his head.
The air was dusty and humid but the amount of open space comforted him. His joints ached as he jogged and the shaking still spread throughout his body. He slumped against a wall, leaning against the structure to keep himself from falling to the ground. He wasn't exactly sure where he was but it seemed as though they were on the outskirts of a city, far enough away that a large orange airship wouldn't be noticed. He took in a few deep breaths to calm down and held his head in his hands.
Flashbacks of what happened in the gray men's lab meshed together and swirled around his mind as he stared up at the cloudless blue sky. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memories.
A tall dark figure hovered over him, obscuring his vision of the room. A shiny object was held in one of the figure's hands, the other gloved hand holding him still. "Starting incision number one." The figure's voice was callous and even as he slowly cut into his abdomen. Zak bit his lip to avoid making a noise and curled his fingers into a fist. He screwed his eyes shut and counted the moments it took before it was over.
He wheezed and held a hand over his stomach, he couldn't shake the phantom feeling of the cold, sharp scalpel ghosting over his abdomen, tearing him open and ripping apart his flesh. No, no, he didn't want to remember this!
A cold, robotic voice asked for a pair of clamps. Pain ate away at his chest, blood was smeared over everything. The man above him placed the clamps on top of his chest. He glanced down but quickly looked away, looking green around his cheeks. His chest was torn open, a mess of blood and other things he'd rather not think about. The clamps were placed on the inside of his open chest, turning his veins to ice."Alright. One, two…three!" He was unable to contain the scream of anguish that tore its way up his throat, the pain too excruciating, too raw. He was shaking and fighting tears that had begun to well in his eyes. They widened the clamps, drawing out another scream that gradually faded into soft sobs and the occasional sniffle. One agent scoffed, "Kid, this is only the beginning." He quivered with anticipation of what could possibly come next.
He held a hand over his mouth to smother a sob all the while shaking his head as if he could shake the memory away. He didn't want to feel this. He didn't want to think about lying down on the lab table, didn't want to remember how it felt to be poked and prodded at. He didn't want to remember how it felt to see his own blood everywhere, on the table and the agent's gloved hands. His knees buckled and his body sunk to the ground. He collapsed in a heap.
Only one other person was in the room with him. He was still lying down on the table but it was clean this time and his chest was closed. Looking down, he could see the faint outline of stitches lining his skin. The other person had their back turned to him and they were hunched over what appeared to be a microscope. Without thinking, he called out, "Wh-why am I here? What do y-you w-want with me?" His voice came out gritty and foreign sounding but it made the agent turn around to face him.
"Simple, you're special." They turned back around, signaling that this was the end of the conversation.
"What?!" This was the answer he got? This was the answer as to why they were torturing him?
The agent's shoulders slumped and he could tell they were resisting an annoyed sigh. "You are Kur, are you not?" He all but groaned at the name. As far as he was concerned, he was done with Kur.
"I was." Not anymore, that mess had ended a year and a half ago. He lost his powers and he couldn't be any happier. Sure, he loved helping cryptids but getting rid of Kur was definitely worth losing his powers.
The agent snorted derisively, "Is that what you've convinced yourself of, you ignorant child?" His cheeks flamed at the insult, he wasn't a child. The agent didn't seem to notice, "It was proved in India that you and Kur are connected. If one dies, so does the other. Therefore-"
"If one lives, so does the other." He whispered in a breathy tone. If he could face palm, he definitely would've then. How could he forget that? Monday died because his life essence was sucked out of him, so it makes sense that he would too, he knew that. He had even planned on it and he had taken Argost down with him. So why didn't he put two and two together? The only way he could be alive was if Kur's essence had essentially latched on to him again.
"Yes." Their voice was the slightest bit condescending.
"That still doesn't explain what you want with me!" He was sick of being treated like a dumb, feral animal. He was tired of their dismissive, better-than-you attitude. Worst of all, he was sick of being kept in the dark.
The agent shook their head in disappointment. "Yes, I suppose you're not quite intelligent enough to figure it out, are you?" Zak ground his teeth together. "Very well, I suppose it's for the best anyway. Better that you don't know anything, after all." The agent turned for a second, organizing the desk and putting things away before hanging up their lab coat and throwing away the plastic gloves that covered their hands. They turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness except for the small light the doorway allowed to filter in. "Someone will be here to collect you in a few minutes." They then shut the door, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
He was rocking back and forth now, his head between his knees as his cries filled the humid air. He didn't want this, the constant reminder that he was the reincarnation of an ancient evil beast; he didn't want the reminder that he would always be Kur. There was no way of leaving that part of his identity behind. He and Kur would always coexist. Well, until he died. But no, he didn't want to think like that, that wasn't even remotely an option. The only reason he had been so ready to die back during the Cryptid War was to protect his family and that was it. Or, at least, that's what he told himself to make himself feel better. He shook off the uncomfortable thoughts, he was exhausted and he'd rather not think too much about it.
He clutched the wall behind him for support as he brought himself to his feet. Looking up at the sky, it appeared to be about six in the afternoon meaning dinner was near and he could go nap. He seemed to be calmer now, though he was surprised that he had been gone for over four hours. He supposed he'd been too preoccupied with the past to notice time flying by. With a deep breath, he slowly jogged back to the airship.
Drew had been pacing back and forth for the past half hour. She paused. "It's been too long, I'm going after him." She made a move towards the ramp but Doc caught her arm before she could go anywhere. He had been in the kitchen for the past half hour preparing dinner with Doyle and Fiskerton as "helpers"; which, only entailed the both of them making a mess and throwing various foods at the other. Normally, seeing Doyle covered head to toe in flour would've given her a few laughs but not when her motherly instincts were screaming at her to go find her son. Ha, if Zak had been there he probably would've found it hilarious.
"Drew, look." He gestured for her to look outside the airship window. There was an outline of a person running towards them.
"Oh, thank god." She felt her worries start to lift off her shoulders, he was safe. She ran to the ramp and hit the button to let him back inside. He crawled up the ramp and collapsed onto the couch. "Zak, honey, are you okay?" He nodded. She didn't look as if she believed him. She laid a hand over his sweaty forehead, it felt a little too warm for her. "Wait here, hun." Drew entered the kitchen, dodging both Fiskerton and Doyle. She smacked the red-head before he could launch another onslaught of flour attacks on the gorilla-cat. "Quit it." She warned them, reaching in the freezer for an ice pack. She left the kitchen and placed the ice pack on her son's forehead. "Here, Zak."
"Thanks." He mumbled in a sleepy voice.
"You're welcome, baby." She slowly ran her fingers through his hair before he drifted off into sleep, a smile tugging at her lips. Despite his protests, even now, at fifteen, he managed to look as sweet and innocent as he did when he was a baby when he slept.
"DOYLE, PUT THAT DOWN!" Her husband's voice sounded urgent. She rolled her eyes, they just couldn't have a peaceful moment in this household.
"IT WAS THE GORILLA-CAT, I SWEAR!" Drew could hear Fiskerton's protests and got her to her feet to help solve the issue.
Men. She shook her head.
"Doyle, what did you do this time?" She called, entering the kitchen. "And be quiet, Zak's sleeping."
"I said it wasn't me! It was Fiskerton over there!"
The kitchen was a mess of dough and flour everywhere. She brought her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose.
"Just please clean it up, okay?" She gestured towards the broom closet before turning on her heels and walking towards her bedroom, sending one last look towards her son who was sleeping seemingly peacefully.
This family. Drew shook her head and sighed endearingly.
Ouch, poor kid. Guy just can't catch a break, can he?
{ EDIT: Alright, so I've gone back and fixed a few grammatical errors but I'm sure there are still a few left scattered throughout. It'll have been two years by tomorrow since I posted this (whoops). It's been an interesting past two years and I've changed, both as a person and a writer. I'll try to keep this updated a little more regularly but I can't guarantee any quick updates, especially when I go to college in the fall. Thanks for being patient and sorry if I got your hopes up if you received a notification that it was updated. I'm currently working on the second chapter and I'll try to get it up soon. The other chapters are not going to be nearly as long as this one was. Honestly, they'll probably be somewhere between 1k-3k but at least that means the updates might come a little quicker. }
If you have any questions, leave them in the review section and they shall be answered eventually!
Were the characters in character? If you spot any grammatical or spelling errors please let me know.
Song List:
Astronaut by Simple Plan
Scream by Thousand Foot Krutch
Black by Kari Kimmel
Run Boy Run by Woodkid
Ready Aim Fire by Imagine Dragons
Re: Your Brains by Jonathan Coulton
The Devil Within by Digital Daggers
Eyes on Fire by Blue Foundation
Riot by Three Days Grace
Headstrong by Trapt
My Demons by Starset
White Rabbit by Egypt Central
Lithium by Evanescence
On My Own by Ashes Remain
Without You by Ashes Remain
That's all folks!