Disclaimer: I own nothing, Cartoon Network does.
Stuff in these are thoughts, italics don't upload well.
A/N: The only real reason I'm writing this, besides that I think it's a cool idea, is I'm suffering from writer's reluctance. What the hell's writer's reluctance, you say? Well, I'm avoiding continuing the fic I should be continuing in favor of writing this, that's basically it. I probably shouldn't be writing at all since I'm kinda in a bad mood, though that's probably the perfect mood for writing this fic. So, all bad moods and psychological troubles aside, here goes nothin', as they say, my first Kids Next Door fanfic. Enjoy!
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Numbuh 1 sat alone at the foot of the spiral staircase that began the labyrinth of corridors and rooms that made up the treehouse. He fiddled with his shoelaces for a moment, and then scanned the empty common area slowly from behind his ever-present dark sunglasses. He wasn't bored, not exactly.... more like expectant, maybe anxious. He had a strange feeling in his stomach that was bothering him. His brain was trying to tell him something he couldn't quite make out, but it felt like something was coming and all he could do was wait for it to arrive. Being the born leader he was Numbuh 1 didn't like this strange, powerless feeling that had come over him at all.
He and his team were in a lull between storms. There had been very few attacks on their fortress in past weeks by their numerous enemies, and even those had been easily quelled. Numbuh 1 should have been pleased with this, but he couldn't rid himself of the anxious feeling that continued to gnaw at his stomach. It was growing worse by the hour, and it had put a halt to any planning he might've been doing and led him to wait on the last step of the spiral staircase alone.
The treehouse was quiet, not too quiet though, he could hear his fellow Kid's Next Door, but the sounds their actions made seemed unreal as if they came from a TV left on somewhere. All in all they only increased Numbuh 1's feeling of isolation and expectation. His adrenaline levels spiked at the sudden opening of one of the treehouse's many entries.
"Numbuh 4?" Numbuh 1 said, willing his voice not to shake as he breathed deep, attempting to calm himself.
The blonde boy walked into the room with only a slight glance at his teammate and a quiet, "Yeh, 's me."
Numbuh 1 watched 4 walk across the common area and sit down heavily at a table, his head bowed. He noticed an odd weight to all the boy's movements and stood up from his seat at the stairs with an eyebrow raised. He joined Numbuh 4 at the table without a word. The other boy didn't speak either, but Numbuh 1 was confident his silence wouldn't last long. Remember that bit about him being a born leader?
Numbuh 4 seemed to rock slightly in his seat and Numbuh 1 could just make out a furrowed brow beneath the boy's long bangs. He continued to wait. Eventually, after more self-contained battle, Numbuh 4 slowly reached out his left arm and set what he'd been holding tucked in the folds of his orange sweatshirt on the table.
Numbuh 1 suppressed the urge to either gasp or gag as the feeling inside his stomach suddenly rose into his throat. So this is it, he thought, this is what I was waiting for. "Where did you get this, Numbuh 4?" he asked, letting his hidden eyes travel along the smooth, black metal of the gun.
"'S my dad's," he responded. His own eyes were mirroring his teammate's activities, "Ah've been thinkin' about," he paused, unsure of his next words, "bringin' it 'ere for some time," he finished quickly, "It's a real gun, Numbuh 1. Not a teddy-bear rifle, not even a blaster- a real gun." Numbuh 1 detected the vein of excitement that ran beneath 4's words. He wasn't surprised. If he had known this was what he had been waiting for he would've expected the Aussie's actions to be very different. The polar opposite of the boy's sullen quiet, in fact. Perhaps he realized the importance of the metal object lying on the table after all? Numbuh 1 could only hope.
He turned to watch Numbuh 4, who was still staring at the gun. He observed the excitement drain from 4's features without comment, until all that was left was a cold fear that made him seem even more the little boy than he was. That was when 1 chose to speak, "You do know what this means though." 4 nodded, "We'll have to discuss it with the others." The pair stood and walked into the bowels of the treehouse, leaving the cool weapon on the table.
:::
All five Kid's Next Door sat in silence on couches around the table in the center of the common area, each lost in his or her thoughts about the deadly, black object that had been carried over by Numbuh 4. Numbuh 1 had felt a strange reluctance to even touch its cold surface.
"Numbuh 5 dun like dis one bit." The dark girl peered out from under her red cap at the gun. Her eyes were dark with mistrust and hatred of the gun and she looked as long as she could at the weapon, but turned away after only a few seconds. She had absolutely no affinity for weapons she or Numbuh 2 had not made themselves, and the sight of the gun's slick metal made her feel sick. Painful memories filled her mind that she'd never shared with anyone outsider her family, and hopefully never would.
"Me neither," Numbuh 2 contributed after another short silence, though he didn't turn away from it. Unlike 5, 2 had a healthy respect for any type of machinery, crafted by his hand or not. And the gun commanded a lot of respect from him. Unbeknownst to the others he was fighting every urge not to take the weapon into his hands and examine it closely, figure out its puzzles, and make his own. He couldn't help it; the need to study and create was engrained in his nature.
Numbuh 3 hugged a pillow from the couch tightly in her lap and warily regarded the gun from above the pillow's fringe without comment. She didn't quite understand the gun's full meaning, or potential, but she did know it made her friends very nervous. And that made her nervous as well, and slightly angry at the black object for doing this to the ones she cared the most about.
"But, guys," Numbuh 4 protested, "think 'bout it for a second! Do ya' know what this could mean for the Kid's Next Door? We'd be unstoppable! None uh' our enemies could stand up ta' this. We could end all kid torment foreva'! One shot- BAM- 'n that'd be it!"
Numbuh 1 had stayed silent since calling the team to attention and announcing the situation. He was almost inclined to agree with Numbuh 4, if it hadn't been for one thing. He had watched the boy carefully as he'd talked. He'd heard 4's speeches before and compiled with the close relationship the boys already shared he knew the Aussie very well, and he could hear the fear behind his words, see the uncertainty in his blatant hand gestures and movements. He didn't like what he saw; he didn't like seeing Numbuh 4 this flustered about anything. He scanned the rest of the team and saw mirror images of 4's fear and uncertainty in each one of them, even Numbuh 3.
It was time to speak, "Numbuh 4 makes a point," he said and continued before Numbuh 5 could protest, "This," even he had a hard time saying it, "gun can be a very powerful use for good. However, I just don't trust it, and I can see none of you do either." He glanced at the window and noticed it had grown dark outside, "I suggest we sleep on the matter and reconvene for a final decision. Kid's Next Door, time for bed." All five courageous children stood and left the common area. The lights flickered off, plunging the room with the black, metal object lying on the table into darkness.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
A/N: Now, I have no idea whether or not Numbuh 4's dad would really have a gun, and (unless I've missed more episodes than I thought) you don't either, so there. I figured if any of the Kid's Next Door would do such a thing as bring in a gun, it'd be Numbuh 4. Don't say he wouldn't, either! Plus, due to the fact that I haven't seen many episodes, I'm taking creative license on their weapons' names. This'll be a short fic, probably three chapters more at the most. Reviews welcome, good or bad (so long as they're polite), see ya' next chapter.
Stuff in these are thoughts, italics don't upload well.
A/N: The only real reason I'm writing this, besides that I think it's a cool idea, is I'm suffering from writer's reluctance. What the hell's writer's reluctance, you say? Well, I'm avoiding continuing the fic I should be continuing in favor of writing this, that's basically it. I probably shouldn't be writing at all since I'm kinda in a bad mood, though that's probably the perfect mood for writing this fic. So, all bad moods and psychological troubles aside, here goes nothin', as they say, my first Kids Next Door fanfic. Enjoy!
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
Numbuh 1 sat alone at the foot of the spiral staircase that began the labyrinth of corridors and rooms that made up the treehouse. He fiddled with his shoelaces for a moment, and then scanned the empty common area slowly from behind his ever-present dark sunglasses. He wasn't bored, not exactly.... more like expectant, maybe anxious. He had a strange feeling in his stomach that was bothering him. His brain was trying to tell him something he couldn't quite make out, but it felt like something was coming and all he could do was wait for it to arrive. Being the born leader he was Numbuh 1 didn't like this strange, powerless feeling that had come over him at all.
He and his team were in a lull between storms. There had been very few attacks on their fortress in past weeks by their numerous enemies, and even those had been easily quelled. Numbuh 1 should have been pleased with this, but he couldn't rid himself of the anxious feeling that continued to gnaw at his stomach. It was growing worse by the hour, and it had put a halt to any planning he might've been doing and led him to wait on the last step of the spiral staircase alone.
The treehouse was quiet, not too quiet though, he could hear his fellow Kid's Next Door, but the sounds their actions made seemed unreal as if they came from a TV left on somewhere. All in all they only increased Numbuh 1's feeling of isolation and expectation. His adrenaline levels spiked at the sudden opening of one of the treehouse's many entries.
"Numbuh 4?" Numbuh 1 said, willing his voice not to shake as he breathed deep, attempting to calm himself.
The blonde boy walked into the room with only a slight glance at his teammate and a quiet, "Yeh, 's me."
Numbuh 1 watched 4 walk across the common area and sit down heavily at a table, his head bowed. He noticed an odd weight to all the boy's movements and stood up from his seat at the stairs with an eyebrow raised. He joined Numbuh 4 at the table without a word. The other boy didn't speak either, but Numbuh 1 was confident his silence wouldn't last long. Remember that bit about him being a born leader?
Numbuh 4 seemed to rock slightly in his seat and Numbuh 1 could just make out a furrowed brow beneath the boy's long bangs. He continued to wait. Eventually, after more self-contained battle, Numbuh 4 slowly reached out his left arm and set what he'd been holding tucked in the folds of his orange sweatshirt on the table.
Numbuh 1 suppressed the urge to either gasp or gag as the feeling inside his stomach suddenly rose into his throat. So this is it, he thought, this is what I was waiting for. "Where did you get this, Numbuh 4?" he asked, letting his hidden eyes travel along the smooth, black metal of the gun.
"'S my dad's," he responded. His own eyes were mirroring his teammate's activities, "Ah've been thinkin' about," he paused, unsure of his next words, "bringin' it 'ere for some time," he finished quickly, "It's a real gun, Numbuh 1. Not a teddy-bear rifle, not even a blaster- a real gun." Numbuh 1 detected the vein of excitement that ran beneath 4's words. He wasn't surprised. If he had known this was what he had been waiting for he would've expected the Aussie's actions to be very different. The polar opposite of the boy's sullen quiet, in fact. Perhaps he realized the importance of the metal object lying on the table after all? Numbuh 1 could only hope.
He turned to watch Numbuh 4, who was still staring at the gun. He observed the excitement drain from 4's features without comment, until all that was left was a cold fear that made him seem even more the little boy than he was. That was when 1 chose to speak, "You do know what this means though." 4 nodded, "We'll have to discuss it with the others." The pair stood and walked into the bowels of the treehouse, leaving the cool weapon on the table.
:::
All five Kid's Next Door sat in silence on couches around the table in the center of the common area, each lost in his or her thoughts about the deadly, black object that had been carried over by Numbuh 4. Numbuh 1 had felt a strange reluctance to even touch its cold surface.
"Numbuh 5 dun like dis one bit." The dark girl peered out from under her red cap at the gun. Her eyes were dark with mistrust and hatred of the gun and she looked as long as she could at the weapon, but turned away after only a few seconds. She had absolutely no affinity for weapons she or Numbuh 2 had not made themselves, and the sight of the gun's slick metal made her feel sick. Painful memories filled her mind that she'd never shared with anyone outsider her family, and hopefully never would.
"Me neither," Numbuh 2 contributed after another short silence, though he didn't turn away from it. Unlike 5, 2 had a healthy respect for any type of machinery, crafted by his hand or not. And the gun commanded a lot of respect from him. Unbeknownst to the others he was fighting every urge not to take the weapon into his hands and examine it closely, figure out its puzzles, and make his own. He couldn't help it; the need to study and create was engrained in his nature.
Numbuh 3 hugged a pillow from the couch tightly in her lap and warily regarded the gun from above the pillow's fringe without comment. She didn't quite understand the gun's full meaning, or potential, but she did know it made her friends very nervous. And that made her nervous as well, and slightly angry at the black object for doing this to the ones she cared the most about.
"But, guys," Numbuh 4 protested, "think 'bout it for a second! Do ya' know what this could mean for the Kid's Next Door? We'd be unstoppable! None uh' our enemies could stand up ta' this. We could end all kid torment foreva'! One shot- BAM- 'n that'd be it!"
Numbuh 1 had stayed silent since calling the team to attention and announcing the situation. He was almost inclined to agree with Numbuh 4, if it hadn't been for one thing. He had watched the boy carefully as he'd talked. He'd heard 4's speeches before and compiled with the close relationship the boys already shared he knew the Aussie very well, and he could hear the fear behind his words, see the uncertainty in his blatant hand gestures and movements. He didn't like what he saw; he didn't like seeing Numbuh 4 this flustered about anything. He scanned the rest of the team and saw mirror images of 4's fear and uncertainty in each one of them, even Numbuh 3.
It was time to speak, "Numbuh 4 makes a point," he said and continued before Numbuh 5 could protest, "This," even he had a hard time saying it, "gun can be a very powerful use for good. However, I just don't trust it, and I can see none of you do either." He glanced at the window and noticed it had grown dark outside, "I suggest we sleep on the matter and reconvene for a final decision. Kid's Next Door, time for bed." All five courageous children stood and left the common area. The lights flickered off, plunging the room with the black, metal object lying on the table into darkness.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
A/N: Now, I have no idea whether or not Numbuh 4's dad would really have a gun, and (unless I've missed more episodes than I thought) you don't either, so there. I figured if any of the Kid's Next Door would do such a thing as bring in a gun, it'd be Numbuh 4. Don't say he wouldn't, either! Plus, due to the fact that I haven't seen many episodes, I'm taking creative license on their weapons' names. This'll be a short fic, probably three chapters more at the most. Reviews welcome, good or bad (so long as they're polite), see ya' next chapter.