(NOTE: I'm updating this story, as I plan on picking it up again (in addition to all my other shit. Yay!). The most noticeable differences will be that the chapter titles will no longer be from songs and lyrics will no longer proceed the text. I'm finding it too difficult to pick the songs and write the story. I hope people will pick this up again after my long hiatus on this, and that they'll find it even better than before. So, enjoy, my lovelies! :D)
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or any characters or themes associated with it. That belongs to the BBC and the Almighty Moff. I DO however own any and all unfamiliar characters. Except one. You'll figure out who it is! ;)
ON WITH ZE SHOW! :D
Another day in the life of a nobody. A nobody that everyone hates. Isn't that fun? Everyone despises the Emo chick because she's Emo. Except I'm not Emo, or Goth, or any other label. I'm just me; just Marty. But no one in this hellhole really gives a crap about Marty, now do they? No. They just care about teasing the foster kid, then running away before I get too pissed off. There are few people on Earth that respect me as a human being. The only ones I can think of on the spot are my caseworker Pauline and –
"Hey Fish Face!"
I sigh in exasperation. I can't even get one day off, can I? First day back after Spring Break and I'm right back where I left off.
I turn the corner to find the source of the disruption of the morning bustle. Pinned to a locker is a guy; tall and skinny with a shock of brown hair and coke bottle glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His brown eyes catch my own as I stare passively at the scene unfolding before me.
This is Nemo Hudson. Nemo is the only human being whose company I actually enjoy. He's a near genius by the standards of the New Jersey public school system, and perfect douchebag bait by extension. He's a meek kid, but he's the only friend I've got.
He vaguely reminds me of someone, but of whom I could never figure out.
The monster trying to choke the life out of poor Nemo is stereotypical jock, Hawk Stevens. His real name is something like Harold or an equally dorky variation, but he declared his name Hawk when he was very young and no one's questioned him since. Nemo and I call him Terrorbird. Terrorbird is the captain of the school wrestling team and the guy every girl from freshman to senior year wants to be hanging off of. Personally, I think he's a huge asshole.
The current scenario is a common one. Terrorbird harasses Nemo, Nemo tries in vain to defend himself, Terrorbird tries to break some part of Nemo's body, and I intervene. I never wanted to be a confrontational person, but it was never really my choice. It's only instinct.
Instinct tells me that seeing someone I care about hurt ought to make me angry.
Anger leads to rage.
Rage leads to The Drums.
Rat-a-tat-tat, Rat-a-tat-tat, Rat-a-tat-tat.
And The Drums make me violent.
I stalk over to Terrorbird, fists clenched and positive by the way the other students part for me that my eyes have changed from their normal dull brown to a murderous red.
"Hawk." It's not a question, or an exclamation, or a statement. It is a threat, and one I will always make good on. He turns his testosterone-fueled scorn on me, and sneers.
"Well if it isn't the Martiac." He jeers, his voice is sickly sweet.
"Leave him alone, Hawk." Mine is pure, biting venom.
Rat-a-tat-tat, Rat-a-tat-tat, Rat-a-tat-tat.
By now a crowd has formed around us. Nemo's eyes are wide with fear, appearing almost comically huge behind his specs. If it's fear for himself, me, or both of us, I'm not sure, and I really don't care at the moment.
Terrorbird's grin is disgusting on his smug face. "What you gonna do about it, Martiac?" He taunts. I want so badly to punch him right then. I pull my arm back to do just that when I hear a soft voice call to me.
"Marty, please don't." Nemo murmurs softly. My gaze shifts to him for a split second; he had to know that I don't want to do this, that this isn't me. But The Drums are hurting me. Whether they want me to keep Nemo safe or beat Terrorbird to a pulp, I don't know. But if putting a dent in the smug bastard's face makes them let up, I'll do it.
These sorts of things are never my choice.
Meanwhile, Terrorbird has come to the conclusion that I'd given up. He punches Nemo in the shoulder and watches him slump to the ground, laughing with his retarded buddies about wimpy little girls protecting their equally puny boyfriends. When he turns back to snigger at me, I land a precise, devastating blow to his nose.
All sounds fade out. The satisfying crack of bone. The agonized screech of the Terrorbird. The booming shouts of teachers trying to break up the fight. I hear nothing, see nothing. All I can hear are The Drums slowly decreasing their volume in my ears, and all I can see is Nemo looking up at me in fear and gratitude.
I hate getting like this infront of him. It always makes him look at me like I am some sort of vengeful goddess. Beautiful and terrible all at once.
I grab his arm and haul him to his feet. He dusts off his thin frame and rubs his raw shoulder.
"You alright?" I ask. My voice is even, but he knows me well enough to know I'm concerned.
"I'm good. You?"
"I'm good."
We leave the scene of the crime, walking side by side to the main office so I can turn myself in. Nemo takes a detention despite being the victim in the situation, which I was grateful for.
Either Nemo Hudson is the best friend I could possibly ask for, or he is a massive wimp.
I could really care less.
I love Nemo. He's so... meek. Best word I can come up with to describe him. And you all have NO idea how fun it was to write "screech of the Terrorbird"! XD
I'm sure you all know the true nature of Marty's identity by now, and if you don't, WHY ARE YOU IN THIS FANDOM?
I have several more chapters written up, but I can't guarantee routine updates. I'm never good at remembering when to update, so bear with me!
DFTBA