Two Lights
Freedom Never Cries
Disclaimer: I do not own Class of the Titans or the song "Freedom Never Cries". Class of the Titans is created solely by Brad Goodchild and Studio B. "Freedom Never Cries" is by John Ondrasik and his awesome band, Five for Fighting. I do, however, own Mr. Simon, Mike, John Anderson and Andrea Anderson. Any people that these characters are similar to I do not own.
A/N: Hey everyone! This is a story I'm writing on my own without Atarah. It's basically a collection of song fics. I really hope you like the story!
Dedications: This whole story is dedicated to my sister, and Kir- I mean, Shadow Ladden, my dearest accomplice. This chapter is dedicated to all of the Canadian soldiers who died.
Took a flag to a pawn shop
For a broken guitar
A light tingle broke the silence in the dusty pawn shop as the wind chimes attached to the ceiling clanged against the door. A young boy on the verge of puberty nearly flew in, powered by his muscular legs and the wind outside. The boy was wearing a bright blue hoodie, and his eyes were exactly the same color. His most noticeable feature was his hair, dyed recently to a violent shade of violet.
The owner of the shop peered over the top of his newspaper with beady eyes. Recognizing the customer, the man lowered the newspaper, revealing a long nose and a toothy smile. The boy shuddered. He always thought that Mr. Simon's smile was the exact smile that a shark wore before it devoured a school of fish. That had inspired the pawn shop owner's nickname, Hammerhead Simon.
"Well, well, well," Mr. Simon wheezed, "If it isn't Archie Anderson, my favorite customer. What's your business today, boy? Buy, trade, or sell?"
Took a flag to a pawn shop
How much is that guitar
"To trade, Ham- Mr. Simon," Archie replied nervously. "I want to trade this flag for that guitar over there."
Mr. Simon looked at the small American flag sitting in Archie's arms. Archie held it as if he was holding a baby.
Took a flag to a pawn shop
Got me that guitar
What's a flag in a pawn shop to me?
Mr. Simon pondered for a moment, and replied, "It seems like a fair trade to me. Here you go."
The red, white and blue disappeared from Archie's arms in a swirl of color, and it was replaced by a hard, brown, acoustic guitar.
"Wait!" Another boy flew in just as fast as Archie had, snatching the dusty guitar from Archie's hand. The boy had dark brown hair that was sticking up all over his head. He had blue eyes like Archie, but his were much darker, almost a navy blue.
"Mike, what are you doing here?" Archie asked.
Mike ignored Archie, turning to Mr. Simon instead. "Can he return this?"
"Sorry, no returns," Hammerhead Simon sneered.
"Archie," Mike said, "You just made the biggest mistake of your life."
Archie stood there, clearly confused.
"Remember how your dad gave that to you before he left for the war?"
"Yeah..." Archie replied, "So what?"
"Your dad just got shot today."
I saw a man on the TV
In a mask with a gun
A man on the TV
He had a ten- year old son
I saw a man on the TV
His son had a gun
He says that he's coming for me
"Today in Afghanistan, John Anderson was shot while trying to protect a young ten- year old boy. The criminal shot the soldier, and then took the boy. The criminal claimed the boy was his son, even though three minutes before he was yelling and chasing the boy with the gun. John will be sent back to the United States tomorrow for his funeral."
Archie listened to the words on the TV, a stone- cold expression on his face. For some reason, he just couldn't cry. He had tried, but the tears just didn't flow. His mother however was having no trouble with crying. She was lying on the floor, sobbing.
Archie headed up to his room, shutting the door behind him. There he knelt beside his bed, hands closing together in prayer. Archie didn't know why he was praying. He wasn't Catholic and didn't believe in God. But today, he felt an urge to pray, to talk to God.
"Dear God,
I never loved the soldier until there was a war
I always thought that my dad would be with me forever and ever. I was so stupid, I even thought that when he went off to war. I thought this would only go on for a little while, and then he'd be back with me. But now he's gone, and I didn't even get to say goodbye. God, I want you to keep my dad happy while he's in heaven and tell him that I miss him- a lot." Archie stopped for a minute, tears flowing much more freely now.
Or thought about tomorrow
'til my baby hit the floor
"You can see my mom in the living room. She's taking this really hard, you know, and I need you to help her through it." Archie's frame was wracking with sobs.
I only talk to God when somebody's about to die
I never cherished freedom
"Y- You know," Archie said, "I-I just can't do this." He ran out of the room, leaving his unfinished prayer behind him.
Freedom never cries.
Two days later, Archie was sitting in one of the pews in the church he belonged to. His mother was a serious Catholic, so Archie had been forced to join as well. He held in his hands a piece of crumpled paper and the same guitar he had gotten at the pawn shop. The priest's words, the crying funeral attendees and the dramatic organ music flooded over him. Archie didn't pay attention to any of the noise until he heard, "And now, Archie Anderson will perform a song entitled 'Freedom Never Cries'."
Wrote a song for a dead man
To settle my soul
Archie staggered to the altar, shaking with nervousness.
A song for a dead man
Now I'll never grow old
Archie stared at the crowd. Archie felt as if all time were at a standstill. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke.
"I dedicate this to my father, John Anderson," Archie said quietly into the mike. He felt like he was breaking some unwritten law. He was speaking in such a silent place. It gave him the creeps.
I wrote a song for a dead man
Now I'm out in the cold
What's a song to a dead man to me?
Archie shivered as though he was freezing. All these people were staring a hole through his face. He sighed, strummed the guitar, and belted out the chorus:
"I never loved the soldier until there was a war
Or thought about tomorrow
'til my baby hit the floor
I only talk to God when somebody's about to die
I never cherished freedom..."
"Freedom never cries..." Archie whispered.
"Did you say something, Archie?" A woman's voice pulled Archie out of his memories and back to the kitchen table at his home. A 25- year old Atlanta was standing in front of him.
"No, nothing Atlanta, except that I love you," Archie replied.
"Really," Atlanta said with a smirk, "how much do you love me?"
"Well, I'd tell any man who says that they love you more:
You can cry for her
Die for her
Lay down your life for her
Kiss and wave goodbye to her
Anything at all
You can cry for her
Die for her
Make up your mind to her
Anything at all...
"But they'll never love you as much as I do."
Atlanta smiled sweetly and kissed him before raising an eyebrow. "Have you been sneaking off to your poetry club lately?"
Archie laughed and got up from the table. He headed to his bedroom and silently closed the door. Archie's bedroom had just been cleaned yesterday because of Atlanta's constant nagging. The room was absolutely spotless. Spotless... except for an envelope sitting on the bed that Archie had opened that very morning. He sat on the edge of the bed and re-opened the letter.
Hey Archie,
Wow! Long time, no write, eh? I was just cleaning out my house. I'll be moving to New Olympia in the fall, but I just couldn't wait to give you this. It took long, painstaking hours to find it but I did it. I just figured you'd want this back. I hope you do- I had to sell half of my son's baseball card collection for it! Okay, so there are only four cards in his collection, but still...
Your friend,
Mike
Archie smiled and unfolded the old, tattered American flag. As he touched it, his earliest memory came to mind.
There's a baby on the doorstep
Wailing away
"John! Archie won't stop crying," Andrea Anderson cried. Her yelling just made her baby cry even more, as if this was a contest on who could scream the loudest.
There's a baby on the doorstep
Longing for the day
"It's okay Archie, I'm here," John said, taking Archie carefully from Andrea. He walked through the house, cradling Archie.
There's a baby on the doorstep
Who'd give his life to take
A flag to a pawn shop
A flag to a pawn shop
John and Archie ended up on the doorstep looking at the stars.
"You know what, Archie? One of these days I'll have to leave." The baby wailed even harder. "I know you don't want me to, but it will happen. "
"You see, your father works in the army. That's a group that goes of to kill people so that you're safe." The baby made a disgusted face and continued to cry, but softer now. "But when I'm gone, remember that you can look at that-"He gestured to an American flag, flapping in the wind. "And then you'll see me instead, even if I'm long gone."
Archie had stopped crying. Now he was giggling and pointing at the flag. John Anderson smiled and carried Archie back into the house.
May he forget why he is crying some day...
AN: Yay! Chapter numero uno is complete! Now, readers, I have a mission for you. Listen to the songs "California Justice" and "Policeman's Xmas Party", both by FFF. I plan to do chapters on these songs and I need ideas. So click that little blue button down there and leave some CCC's (that's compliments and constructive criticism) and your ideas! If you help me out, I will dedicate that chapter to you. Thanks and goodbye!
Jayla