Disclaimer: I do not own Godchild. Only in my dreams.
Anyway, welcome to my very first Godchild fic! Normally, I avoid OCs like the plague, but I made an exception in this case, and I hope you all won't automatically stop reading on account of that.
Anyway, please treat it kindly.
Come on, Cain, I believe in you. Come on, I know you'll get through this, because you always do. Oh, wait, why is everything so dark? No, wait--
"Reagan, what are you doing?!"
Reagan Leigh Bradley nearly dropped the volume of Godchild she was reading. But she recovered in enough time to reply, in a completely serious voice, "I'm doing my English project, Mom! Like I'm supposed to! What do you think I'm doing?!"
"Well, I'm going to check...!"
"You don't even believe your own daughter! God, what does it take to be trusted in this house?!" Reagan yelled back, trying to find the page she'd left off on, "Of course I'm doing my schoolwork! This is a major project!"
"Well, you have a bad habit with procrastination", her mother replied through the door.
"Mom, if I say I'm doing my work, then I'm doing it! Why do you automatically assume I'm lying?!"
"Well, I'll be back to check on you later."
Reagan grabbed a scrap of paper off her desk and used it as a bookmark. She closed the volume and reluctantly set it aside, then confronted the schoolwork in front of her.
In her English class, they were currently studying the Victorian era, and literature of the time. They had to do some research on the time period and then write an essay, accompanied by a poster about one particular aspect of Victorian society--that, and they were reading Victorian literature in class.
Now, that was all well and good, and Reagan had nothing against the Victorian era, but she, personally, would much rather read Kaori Yuki than Charles Dickens.
Buuuutttt, it was a major project, and that was a pretty good motivator.
She took a deep breath and looked at the materials in front of her.
Okay, so she needed to pick an aspect of Victorian society...
Cain popped into her head.
Well, she certainly wouldn't mind making a poster full of images from Godchild, but she was pretty sure that would get her a lovely "F" on her stupid project.
Reagan ran a hand through her blonde hair. Her eyes flicked over to Volume Eight, sitting there, Cain's face on the cover, beckoning to her. She hadn't finished reading it yet...it pulled at her...
She opened it to the page where she'd left off, and settled in.
She heard the door knob turn, and without even thinking Reagan threw the volume out of sight.
It was her mom.
"Are you doing your homework?" her mother inquired.
"What's it look like? If I say I'm doing it, then I am. But thanks a lot, Mom. You just interrupted my train of thought. I just had this wonderful vision for the poster in my mind, and now it's gone!"
"Oh, well. I'm sure you'll think of something better."
"What do you want, anyway?"
"You should leave your bedroom door open. It will help the air circulate better."
Air circulation...? Everything about that invited a nasty retort, but Reagan decided against it, considering that she wanted her mother out of her room as soon as possible.
She looked, again, at the materials in front of her.
Maybe I should just go ahead and do the essay...
Ok. So she had to write about how Victorian society influenced writers of the time. That was easy enough, right?
That's what she'd originally thought! What a foolish assumption!
How am I supposed to know anything and their society and how it impacted them? I doubt even the Victorians knew. You don't recognize things about your own society because you're living within it. The only reason we can judge them is because we're on the outside looking in. I mean, this is the stupidest project ever, because no one would know more about Victorians than Victorians, and they're all dead!
Little progress had been made by the time Reagan's mother came in and told her that she needed to "go to bed because it's a school night." Reagan took this as an invitation to stop doing schoolwork and finish of the last volume of Godchild. When she was done, she climbed into bed, scarcely able to comprehend what she'd just read.
...
It was overcast outside when Reagan woke up.
Groggily, she sat up. Just another boring day, with that stupid project on the Victorians waiting in the wings...
Then, she realized something.
This wasn't her room.
She was certainly awake now! Where...where was she?!
She clambered out of the bed and burst out of the room...
...and nearly crashed into somebody.
She was looking at a young man.
A young man with golden-green eyes.
...and that's a wrap! Please review!