The first Hellcat one-shot!
Yay! Someone set off some fireworks in this bitch!
First things first: It's rated T for a reason. Lots of cussing, some inappropriate remarks, and demons grace these pages. Not to mention – as you've probably guessed from the title – underage drinking.
I recall that gg18000 wanted to see a drunk Hellcat. Here we are. xD
Here's some facts about Zara before we get started, though.
Zara is of legal age to drink.
Zara comes from a family that likes to drink, too.
Zara has been drunk, but not to the point that these guys are going to take it.
Being drunk kills logic. I made a decision to stop at two drinks. However, when I took a drink away from my sister – she was more drunk than I was at the time – my dad said that it would go bad if I didn't drink it. So – though I had decided to stop – my brain on alcohol decided that drinking the third one was a good idea. That's your brain on alcohol, guys. You can't think straight. Everything becomes impulse.
Zara refuses to drive even after one drink.
Zara and her family get drunk at home on occasion. We never go anywhere. Makes it safer that way.
I am not encouraging underage drinking or drunkenness. Drinking is a privilege, not a right. Don't abuse it, or bad things happen. As you will read.
Anywho, this is a one-shot branching off of the Hybrid series. If you haven't read all three stories in their entirety, you'll probably be pretty lost. This occurs two months after the end of Haunted.
And it's a bit over 9,000 words long. So get ready to sit for a bit.
I don't think that this is my best work. :c But it amused me, so here we are. :3
Anyways, who wants to do this one? Douglas?
"Zara doesn't own Lab Rats or anything you recognize. If you don't recognize it, it's probably hers."
"As I went home on a Monday night - as drunk as drunk could be - I saw a horse outside the door where my old horse should be. Well, I called me wife and I said to her: 'Will you kindly tell to me: Who owns that horse outside the door where my old horse should be?'
"'Ah, you're drunk, you're drunk, you silly old fool! Still, you cannot see? That's a lovely sow that me mother sent to me!' It's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more, but a saddle on a sow sure I never saw before…"
Celtic Thunder, "Seven Drunken Nights"
Chase
"Here's the number of the hotel," Mr. Davenport was explaining to Douglas, pointing at a piece of paper and moving his finger down it as he listed. "This one is Tasha's mother, this is Poison Control, these are my FBI and CIA friends -"
"Why would I need to call them?" Douglas cut in, frowning.
"You never know," Mr. Davenport rebutted, crossing his arms. "Now, that number is -"
"I can read the label," Douglas hissed. "A couple of things: First off, why would you have this one? Secondly, under what circumstances would we need to call in the god-damned Navy Seals?"
Tasha - who barely entered the room - smacked Douglas on the back of the head without stopping. "Watch your language."
"I'm just trying to cover all the bases," Mr. Davenport explained. "I mean, what if -"
"We'll be fine," Douglas interrupted, waving his brother's concerns away casually. Subconsciously, I found myself once again trying to find where his arm - or what was left of it - ended and the cyborg hand he replaced it with began. I knew where the difference was supposed to be - about halfway to his elbow - but it was undetectable, even to my overly-sensitive sight. You couldn't even tell that it wasn't his real hand if you weren't touching it. That thing was ice-cold and less yielding than a human hand, even with the facsimile of flesh that covered it to both make it unnoticeable - if he avoided metal detectors - and softer, complete with intricate texturing on the surface to simulate the many ridges and wrinkles on the surface of a normal hand so that no one was upset by an unnatural texture if he just so happened to touch them. He and Mr. Davenport had got it to move so fluidly and respond so well to the environment that you would think it was bionic rather than totally robotic. I was once again left with the slightest feeling of guilt at the thought. If I had unlocked geo-leaping a split-second faster, maybe I could've saved all of his limbs. However, the fact that he had an arm left at all was astounding.
Long story short, he was one lucky motherfucker.
"I'll be coming after you if they aren't," Tasha warned, pointing at Douglas.
"Noted," Douglas responded, rolling his eyes.
Ignoring him, Tasha took Mr. Davenport's hand. "Come on. If we don't leave soon, we'll be late."
"I just have to give him their inhalers-"
"None of us have asthma!" Bree interrupted. "Mr. Davenport, go. We'll keep Douglas out of trouble."
"He's supposed to be watching us," Adam pointed out while rubbing Yahn's chin, making said gray gargoyle-like imp purr.
"I'm sure we'll survive until tomorrow without you," Leo reassured.
Where were they going, you ask? Well, Mr. Davenport was invited to a dinner honoring great scientific minds. While he would be mentioned - probably the main reason he was going - he maintained that he would be working various benefactors over to gain more funding. As he could only invite one other person, Tasha was obviously going to be spending the evening with him. However, the dinner was in a town a few hours away, and Tasha insisted that they drove rather than show up in Mr. Davenport's helicopter in order to spend more time alone together.
Which meant that they would have to spend the night in a hotel and drive back in the morning.
So Douglas was in charge until tomorrow afternoon.
Imagine the amount of convincing it took to get Mr. Davenport and Tasha to agree to that.
Tasha began leading Mr. Davenport towards the door, an overnight bag slung over her shoulder. "You guys behave. Especially you," she emphasized, pointing at Douglas as he opened the door for them. "No random scientific experiments on the kids."
Douglas rolled his eyes as they passed him, stepping outside, our chorus of goodbyes sounding in the background. "I can't do anything. I'm still waiting for that genetics experiment I did on Leo while he was asleep two nights ago to conclude."
Tasha whipped around, her eyes flashing with alarm and anger. "What?!"
"Bye!" Douglas grinned, shutting the door and locking it before she could strangle him.
I bet that Mr. Davenport assured her that it was a joke, which kept her from kicking the door down to demand answers.
Douglas was going to get himself killed one of these days.
"Finally," Oly cried excitedly. She jumped onto the kitchen counter. "Listen up, asshats: I'M in charge now!"
"Shut the hell up, Oly," Douglas ordered, shooting her a look.
Oly flinched and went silent, giving her wings an irritated beat that caused the light to catch the rhinestones that she stuck to them.
Leo took the opportunity to speak. "Douglas? You weren't serious about that genetic experiment thing, were you?"
Although Douglas was most likely kidding, I supposed that no one could resist an opportunity to mess with Leo. So no one said a thing, all of us giving Leo a serious look. After a second, Bree decided to speed down to the Lab to do...girly things, I guessed. Adam started rubbing behind Yahn's ears, not taking his eyes off Leo. Douglas just cracked his neck casually before he turned and vanished up the stairs. I myself changed into a black cat and crawled under the coffee table, limping slightly.
What, you didn't think I got out of the situation that resulted in the destruction of The Arm of Raziel unscathed, did you? A demon tore half of my tail off and injured my leg enough to ensure that I had a slight limp for the rest of my life. It had become less pronounced in the two months since the fight, but it was still noticeable. Honestly, it wasn't that big of a deal, though. It didn't really hinder me much.
You should've let him die, my little mental demon voice hissed. You would still be whole.
We're not discussing this again, I responded firmly. My voice regularly insisted that I had made the wrong choice when I stayed behind that day.
It was full of shit. I made the right decision.
Moving on, Leo's eyes widened. Ysthry - the little acid-dripping dragon -imp he kept around - had to cling to Leo's shoulder with her hind claws as he jumped up from the couch and charged up the stairs. "What did you do to me?"
After we watched them for a second, Adam sighed. "I'm already bored."
"Master drinks sometimes when he's bored," Oly suggested.
I poked my head out into the open. "We can't drink. We're too young. Besides, Douglas has it all locked up." More than that, I had asked him about drinking before, and he refused to let me have even a taste. Either he drew a line at underage drinking, or he didn't want to share his booze. Pretty sure it was the former, though.
I could be wrong, though, so no one quote me on that.
Adam's expression turned thoughtful. "He does look like he's having fun when he's drunk, though."
"And I know where he keeps it," Oly went on. "Come on; you're at home, and your overly-protective parents are gone for the night. Live a little, Half-Breed! When are you going to get another opportunity like this?"
"What's in it for you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at Oly.
"It's not something you would agree to if you knew what it was," she answered ominously. "Just know that no one gets hurt."
After a moment - and a few pleading looks from Adam (who knew that he was curious about drinking?) - I finally sighed. Hey, it might be fun, right? "Where does he keep it?"
"…As I went home on a Tuesday night - as drunk as drunk could be - I saw a coat behind the door where my old coat should be. Well, I called me wife and I said to her: 'Will you kindly tell to me: Who owns that coat behind the door where my old coat should be?'
"'Ah, you're drunk, you're drunk, you silly old fool! Still, you cannot see? That's a woolen blanket that me mother sent to me!' It's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more, but buttons in a blanket sure I never saw before..."
Celtic Thunder, "Seven Drunken Nights"
Adam
Adam's job was simple enough: Distract Douglas so that Chase could melt the lock on a box under Douglas' bed and reach the two bottles of whiskey it contained.
Adam had a feeling that he would get in trouble if Douglas caught them, but he felt like the risk was worth it. He wanted to know why Douglas was so strange when drunk. Did it really mess with one's mind that much?
Therefore, Adam decided that getting drunk himself was the next step necessary in the quest to slake his curiosity.
Which was why he burst through Douglas' door - his strength accidentally shattered the thing, causing splinters to go flying everywhere - with the most terrified expression he could muster. "It's happening! We're all going to die! This is the end!"
Douglas stared at him from his seat at his desk, obviously bewildered by the display. "What the hell?! What's happening?!"
"The apocalypse!" Adam howled. "Come on! We've got to get to the bunker!"
Douglas stood up rapidly and grabbed Adam's shoulders. "What's wrong?! Is something on fire? Did you break something?" He paused for a second as a hopeful look crossed his face. "Did the revolution to overthrow the government finally start?!"
"No time to explain!" Adam huffed, picking Douglas up. Ignoring the loud protests that followed, Adam turned and bolted out of the room. "We have to take cover!"
"Put me down!" Douglas snapped. "Adam, I swear to God-"
Adam finally stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "But we have to hide!"
"Why?" Douglas huffed, struggling a bit.
"I told you, the end of the world is -"
"I caught that," Douglas interrupted, growing obviously more irritated with each passing second. "What happened?"
Adam put Douglas down and grabbed his shoulders. "The apocalypse! Aren't you listening?!"
Douglas glared at him. "Why do you think it's the end of the world? Hell, why are you even worried about it?"
Adam floundered for a second before an idea popped into his head. "Why aren't you more concerned about it!?" He pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened the YouTube app, navigating to his favorites list and picking a video. "I mean, just look."
Douglas grew steadily annoyed as he watched the video of a kitten and a puppy playing together. "And what is the problem?"
Adam gestured at the phone. "A cat and a dog are getting along. It's not natural!"
Douglas ground his teeth, obviously fighting to find any shred of patience he might have had left. "The world isn't ending, Adam," he hissed. "Now, go back to sticking yourself to the ceiling with gum, or trying to speak to raccoons, or another one of the many...heartbreaking endeavors you undertake every day."
Adam realized that Douglas had just taken a stab at his intelligence, but he ignored it. He was successfully aiding a plot to steal from one of the most intelligent criminal minds in the world. If that wasn't a testament to Adam's IQ, he didn't know what was. He watched as Douglas turned on his heel and climbed the stairs again, muttering about Adam wasting his time.
Adam wasn't worried, though. According to his watch, five minutes had passed, which meant that Chase likely had the alcohol now. He would be down as soon as the coast was clear.
A moment later, Chase appeared at the top of the stairs, Leo following with Ysthry perched on his shoulder. "I don't know..."
"No one's going to make you drink any, Leo," Chase responded, rolling his eyes when he reached the base of the stairs. "Sorry, Adam. He walked in on me."
Adam ignored the apology and eyed the two bottles of Jack Daniel's Chase was holding. "Are those it?"
Chase held them up, grinning triumphantly. With his fangs, the effect was a bit unnerving. "These are it."
"Douglas is going to have a shit-fit when he discovers that you stole his alcohol," Leo warned.
Chase rolled his eyes again. "We won't get caught." However, he did glance over his shoulder at the top of the stairs. "I would feel better if we did this in the Lab, though."
"…As I went home on a Wednesday night - as drunk as drunk could be - I saw a pipe upon the chair where my old pipe should be. Well, I called his wife and I said to her: 'Will you kindly tell to me: Who owns that pipe upon the chair where my old pipe should be?'
"'Ah, you're drunk, you're drunk, you silly old fool! Still, you cannot see? That's a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me!' It's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more, but tobacco in a tin whistle sure I never saw before…"
Celtic Thunder, "Seven Drunken Nights"
Bree
She needed a sister.
Of course, growing up with only brothers did have its advantages. For example: She could throw Oly across the room for trying to break into the box that held her rhinestone-encrusted possessions and not feel the least bit guilty about it.
The landing would have been more satisfying if her three brothers hadn't been coming out of the elevator at that moment, Oly hitting Adam's chest as the doors slid open. From his seat on a filing cabinet, Yahn started laughing as Oly landed on the floor in a heap.
As Adam picked Oly up, Bree suddenly noticed the two bottles Chase had in his hands. She caught a glimpse of the labels - Jack Daniel's - and noted the cups Leo held.
They had gotten whiskey somehow. But where did it come from?
Wait, hold that thought: Douglas was the only one with alcohol in the house, and he kept that well-guarded.
So they had stolen it.
Bree smirked, feeling ready to engage in a bit of blackmail. "Does Douglas know-"
"You know he doesn't," Chase interrupted, finally crossing the Lab and placing the bottles on the cyber desk, his gait a bit strange with his limp. Bree tried not to frown at the unfairness. Chase didn't deserve the injury. If Bree had gone for him instead of Azazel's Bane, he would have been spared a lot of painful days learning how to walk almost perfectly again. Of course, had she not gotten Azazel's Bane, Soad would have, and everyone would likely be dead.
Bree shook her head a bit to clear it. There was no use dwelling on the past.
Adam cradled Oly against himself and joined Chase at the desk. Leo followed them, looking far more nervous than the other two.
"You actually stole Master's alcohol?" Yahn asked, tilting his head.
"You were in the room when they planned it," Oly snapped at him.
"I didn't think that they would actually do it," he defended weakly, crossing his arms.
"I'll lock you in a capsule if you even think of telling him," Chase growled, pinning his ears.
"Please, Yahn?" Adam pleaded, using his ability to charm demons to his advantage.
"I guess I won't," Yahn responded after a second. "However, you can't leave the house. Okay?"
The boys nodded vigorously.
"Hey," Bree huffed, waving her hand around to get their attention. "Who says that I won't tell him?"
"Because you're curious about drinking, too," Chase responded smugly. "I can see it in your eyes."
Deep in the back of her mind, Bree found herself remembering a Bible verse that Owen had told her once: Lead me not into temptation. Chase was obviously trying to get her to give in. Whether it was to ensure that she wouldn't rat them out or because he wanted her to share the experience with them was unclear to her. She looked at the two bottles - there was enough for them to each have a few cups (or was the proper term "shots?") - and found herself thinking of something that Douglas had mentioned before.
Nary a season with fools spend, lest ye be counted as his friend.
That was what the whole thing was: A foolish situation waiting to blow up in their faces.
"You know you want to," Chase pressed in a sing-song voice.
Since when was he such a rebel?
Still, when was another opportunity like that going to present itself? With a sigh, Bree nodded. "I'm in."
With a triumphant grin, Chase picked up a bottle and bit the cap off, his fang piercing a hole in the aluminum circle. As he spat it out, Adam put Oly down on the desk and helped hold the cups still while Chase poured a bit into all four. Knowing that they had intended to convince her to join them before they found her in the Lab - hence, the four cups - Bree took hers.
"So, do we just drink it like everything else?" Leo asked as he took his share.
"Drink it all at once," Oly instructed as Chase handed Adam a cup. "Seriously, as fast as you can."
Bree cautiously smelled the dark liquid in her cup and wrinkled her nose at the sour scent.
"Well," Adam said, holding up his cup, "to new experiences."
Before she could think, Bree swallowed the contents of the cup in one go as everyone else did. She instantly regretted it. It tasted horrible, and the alcoholic aftertaste was just as bad as the whiskey itself. More than that, though, it burned like hell the entire way down her throat. She could feel it as it travelled to her stomach. Surprised by the feeling, she coughed and gagged instantly, almost doubling over. At least she wasn't alone, though. The boys were reacting similarly, their faces twisted in expressions of disgust as they coughed and sputtered.
On Leo's shoulder, Ysthry was laughing. "The first one is always the hardest."
Leo finally recovered enough to find his voice. "Who would drink this?!"
"No joke," Bree agreed, her voice a bit hoarse.
Oly cracked up, almost falling over. "No one drinks it for taste. They drink it to get drunk. The second drink is always easier than the first one."
Bree shot the imp a look, wondering if the tempter was really her instead of Chase.
Adam took Bree's cup and set it on the desk. "I want to see if it really is easier after the first one. Anyone else?"
Chase and Leo thought about it for a moment before they both nodded. In that time, the whiskey had started to warm Bree's stomach. It felt a bit nice, now that the burning sensation had passed. Wondering if she could get the feeling to spread to the rest of her body, she nodded as well.
Chase poured a bit more into each cup, and they all drank again. It still tasted horrible, but it burned less than it had the first time. She managed to only give a couple of dry coughs this time, noticing that the others had fared better, too.
Bree smiled as the warmth spread a bit more, accompanied by a strange tingle in her head. Was that what being drunk was? A sense of warm tingling? No wonder people liked it.
Beside her, Adam let out a loud belch, which Leo thought was the most hilarious thing in the world. He started giggling like a little girl, covering his hand with his mouth. Chase high-fived Adam, who whooped a bit loudly in his excitement. Bree rolled her eyes.
She needed a sister.
"…As I went home on a…Thursday…? Thursday night - as drunk as drunk could be – I-I-I saw two boots beneath the bed where my old boots should be. Well, I called me wife and I said to her: 'Will you kindly tell to me: Who owns them boots beneath the bed where my old boots should be?'
"'Ah, you're drunk, you're drunk, you silly old fool! Still, you cannot see? They're two lovely geranium pots me mother sent to me!' It's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more, but laces in a geranium pot sure I never saw before…"
Celtic Thunder, "Seven Drunken Nights"
Douglas
A loud squeal and a violent snarl from outside caught his rapt attention. His fingers froze on the keyboard - just when he had almost finished writing the coding for the prototype cybernetic legs that he and Donnie would be presenting to the investors during "The Call" in a couple of months, too - and he strained his hearing to catch any other sound. For several seconds, there was nothing but the night breeze whispering softly through his slightly-opened window, and he was ready to dismiss it as Oly and Yahn fighting again. However, a new sound finally reached him, sending a shot of icy fear through him as he listened: A horrible, devastated wail.
Douglas shot out of his chair, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he charged out of his room. What in the hell was going on?! Did someone get hurt? Did they - Gods forbid - get killed? He took the stairs two at a time when he reached them, moving with a speed that likely rivaled Bree's. He could hear it now: A series of strangled sobs, all from outside. He immediately bolted for the back door, bracing himself for a horrible injury or a ghastly death.
However, Douglas wasn't prepared for the sight of Chase, sitting on the porch and stroking something small gently in his lap in the dark while sobbing violently.
What the hell?
Douglas turned on the porch light - attracting a myriad of insects - and cautiously started towards his distressed son. "Hellcat? What's wrong?" As he approached, dark bloodstains on the porch became visible. Chase had blood coating his hands and shirt, some beginning to dry around his mouth and on his chin. "Is someone hurt? Are you hurt?"
Chase jumped severely at Douglas' voice - very unusual for someone with super-sensitive bionic hearing - and glanced over his shoulder, before returning his attention to whatever he was lamenting over. "I k-killed it," he hiccupped.
Douglas crouched down beside Chase with a frown, squinting in an effort to see what Chase was holding. "Killed what?" he inquired, scratching Chase between the wings to calm him a bit as he checked for the source of the blood.
"T-th-the bunny!" Chase answered, picking up the little thing in his lap and holding it up to Douglas as another sob escaped him.
Sure enough, it was the severely mangled corpse of a rabbit. Douglas almost passed out from relief. At least the blood didn't belong to anyone important.
Chase cradled the furry creature against himself and started rocking. "I j-just wanted to see if it was s-s-soft, like Adam said," he whimpered. "But m-my voice told me to k-k-kill it, and then instinct t-took over, and I..." He broke into a fresh wave of sobs. "I'm a m-m-monster!"
When did Chase become such an animal lover? What in the hell had gotten into him? As the adrenaline in his blood slowly wore off, he caught a familiar scent.
Chase didn't. He wouldn't dare.
Douglas gently took hold of Chase's chin. His sobs died down into whimpers and sniffles as Douglas lifted his head to examine his face in the porch light. Chase's usually thin, slit pupils were dilated widely, his eyes a bit glazed, and his cheeks a bit pink.
His suspicion was rapidly gaining credibility as he stood, taking hold of Chase's arm and gently pulling him to his feet. As Chase clung to the dead rabbit - obviously still upset - Douglas sighed. He would have to get rid of it. "Chase?"
Chase glanced at Douglas, tears still streaking down his face.
Douglas pointed across the porch. "Could you walk to the door and back? I just want to test something."
He expected Chase to question the test, but he didn't. Instead, he started towards the door, stumbling from side to side, his half-tail lashing about wildly as he tried to balance. After a couple of steps, Douglas confirmed what was wrong.
Chase was drunk. Very, very drunk.
Douglas felt like he was about to explode. Chase had stolen his alcohol. He really wanted to chew his son out for being so stupid, but he forced himself to remain calm. Chase probably wouldn't remember a lecture, so it would have to wait until he had sobered up.
More importantly, though, was that Douglas had had two bottles of Jack Daniel's. If Chase drank both, then everyone was about to visit a hospital for a fun lesson in stomach pumping.
Douglas easily stopped Chase's stumbling and stepped around to face him instead of turning Chase around. They didn't need him throwing up on top of everything. At least, not yet. Chase would undoubtedly be sick before the night ended. He held both of Chase's shoulders and leaned close. "Chase, it's very important that answer honestly, okay? How much did you drink?"
"Jus' a few cups," Chase slurred, still sniffling a bit.
"Are you sure?"
Chase nodded. "Adam, Bree and Leo drank the rest."
What?! "Did you guys drink both bottles between you?"
Chase nodded again, wiping one of his eyes with the back of his hand. A bit of the rabbit's blood smeared on his face from the action, creating a savage effect.
Four drunk teens. What did he do to deserve being punished in such a manner?
He sighed. "Where are Adam, Bree and Leo?"
Chase shrugged. "Around here somewhere."
Douglas nodded. At least they were safe. Before he went to find them, though, he wanted to handle Chase's mess. The kid was obviously torn up over killing the rabbit. He was a demon. Demons killed! Douglas didn't see what was so upsetting, but it bothered Chase. Therefore, it was a problem.
Douglas gently took the small corpse from Chase. Its fur was a flea bitten brown color amid the blood that was drying on it. At least Adam was right: The creature was soft. Chase was staring at it, tears still streaking down his cheeks. He wasn't sobbing anymore, at least. Thinking fast, Douglas blurted out, "He was sick. You did a good thing."
Chase's eyes widened. "I'm going to get sick?"
"No," Douglas denied quickly. "He had...incurable bunny cancer. You saved him from a lot of painful suffering."
Chase frowned and sniffled. Douglas held his breath, waiting for Chase to ask for more specific information that no one had. However, after a second, the kid nodded. Well, at least drunk Chase wasn't curious Chase. Relieved, Douglas laid the corpse down on the porch and threw an arm around Chase's shoulders. "You need a shower," he said quietly, directing Chase towards the door. He was bloody, disoriented and upset. A shower would help clear his head, if only a little bit. At the very least, he might calm down.
"I'm fine," Chase protested, stumbling along with Douglas anyways as they entered the house.
"No, you're drunk," Douglas corrected. "And I won't envy you in the morning." He turned Chase towards the stairs - Chase had to wait a moment for his dizziness to fade after that - and nudged him forward. Douglas wanted to be behind Chase when they tackled the stairs in case he stumbled and fell.
"What's going to happen in the morning?" Chase inquired.
A lovely thing known as a hangover, Douglas thought as Chase started up the stairs, swaying dangerously from side to side. "It's a surprise," Douglas answered aloud, relieved when they reached the top of the stairs without incident. "But you only get it if you take a shower and go to bed. Right now."
"But I'm not -"
There was the vomit. Douglas had to force himself not to jump back as Chase doubled over and threw up all over the carpet several times. Maybe going up spiral stairs had been a bad idea. After several seconds, Chase straightened up only to collapse backwards against Douglas, obviously unconscious.
Well, at least Douglas could get rid of the rabbit in peace now.
Chase was a total deadweight as Douglas carried him to his room. He could hear Tasha's lecture as he eased the door open with his foot. You shouldn't have alcohol in a house with teenagers!
Wait, Tasha! Good lord, she was going to kill him! The one time that he was left alone with the kids, and they pulled a stunt like this? She was going to have his head!
And several other equally-important body parts!
Douglas shouldered past the door frame and flicked on the light just to find Oly sitting on Chase's desk, a Stephen Hawking book in her hands. "What the hell are you doing?"
Oly looked at him and shook the book a bit. "Bree wouldn't open her box," she snorted. "As it turns out, she can handle her alcohol well enough not to be tricked. So I came up here to see if Half-Breed has anything entertaining. He doesn't."
Douglas glared at her. "You knew about them being drunk and didn't tell me?"
Oly shrugged. "You never asked."
Douglas wanted to drop kick her. However, he just laid Chase on the bed and rolled him on his side. "Oly, clean up all the blood and vomit on him. Seriously, all of it. Change his clothes, wash his face, everything. And make sure you keep him on his side, too. We don't need him choking if he gets sick again."
Oly winced, but jumped down from the desk. "Why do I have to do it?"
"Because you didn't tell me they were drunk," Douglas huffed. "Besides, I have three more wasted kids to round up."
"...And as I went home on a Friday night - as drunk as drunk could be - I saw a head upon the bed where my bald head should be! Well, I called me wife and I said to her: 'Will you kindly tell to me who owns that head upon the bed where my old head should be?'
"'Ah, you're drunk, you're drunk, you silly old fool! Still, you cannot see? That's a baby boy that me mother sent to me!' Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more, but a baby boy with his whiskers on sure I never saw before..."
Celtic Thunder, "Seven Drunken Nights"
Leo
The world was hilarious when seen through an alcohol lens! Things Leo normally found trivial - Bree stretching, for example - suddenly had the ability to turn him into a giggling wreck.
A manly giggling wreck, but a giggling wreck, none the less.
At the moment, he was holding Ysthry's wing out and examining the long, thin fingers that held the loose skin that held her aloft when she flew. Her wing was large compared to the rest of her - she was as long as his forearm if he didn't count her tail - and the skin was soft. He smiled as he ran his fingers along the wing in wonder.
Ysthry, however, wasn't as amused. Having to balance on only her hind legs and other wing, she pulled her wing from him occasionally. Every time she did, Leo giggled and picked up her wing again. She would hiss at him, the acid in her saliva occasionally dropping out and burning small holes in the floor below.
Across the Lab, Adam had decided to practice his aim with paper balls and a trash can.
Not a single one made it.
Adam threw another one, missing by several feet.
"Way to go," Bree said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
He frowned. "I was closer tha' time," he slurred defensively.
Laughter bubbled up from Leo's chest again. It was like the light-headed buzzing in his head made everything better.
Adam looked around him for a second before he pointed across the Lab. "Bree, I ran out of paper. Can you get my balls for me?"
Bree's face reddened at Adam's phrasing. He hadn't intended it to sound so indecent, but it had. Leo started laughing again, especially when Ysthry pulled her wing away from him again. He picked up her wing as Yahn finally spoke from his watchful perch on the filing cabinet. "Shouldn't you go to sleep instead? You're too drunk to do much else."
"They can still get in a shit-ton of trouble!"
In the back of his mind, Leo knew that he should be terrified when he heard Douglas' furious voice. However, his thoughts weren't exactly logical at the moment, and the alcohol in his veins made him brave.
No wonder Jack Daniel's was often referred to as liquid courage.
Leo grinned and waved with his free hand. "Hello, Dougie!"
Adam started to laugh loudly, covering his mouth. "Your hair looks like a hedgehog!" he chortled.
Douglas glared at him. "My hair is bad ass," he snapped, running his fingers through it. "And you guys are in so much trouble that you won't see daylight for a month!"
Adam frowned. "Wait...would you make it night all the time?"
"He means we're grounded, moron!" Bree snarled. She had the presence of mind to understand the situation fully.
"For-fucking-ever," Douglas confirmed hotly. "Whose idea was this?"
"They talked me into it!" Bree instantly cried, pointing at both Adam and Leo. "I didn't want to!" Almost immediately, she burst into terrified tears. "Please don't kill me!"
Douglas stared at her for a second, bewildered by the outburst. "I'm not going to..." He pinched the bridge of his nose as he trailed off, sighing heavily. He pointed at Adam before continuing. "Whose idea?" he repeated more forcefully.
"Oly suggested it," Adam answered. "She said that it would be fun."
"She was right!" Leo cut in, laughing as Ysthry pulled her wing free again. Leo reached for it, but Douglas strode over and smacked his hand, saving the little imp.
"Hey, don't do that!" Adam huffed, standing up quickly only to stumble a few steps to the side. Leo heard a scrambling noise and looked beside him to see Ysthry scurrying out of reach. Damn.
Douglas raised an eyebrow at Adam, but ignored the threat. Bree's sobs were fading into loud sniffles in the background as Douglas nodded towards their capsules. "Sleep it off."
Adam growled, now enraged at being ignored. "I'm talking to you, jackass! What the hell is your problem?"
Douglas sighed. "You're drunk, and I just don't want to engage, kid."
"I'm not a kid," Adam snapped. "I'm a man!"
"A drunk man," Douglas countered. "You're not thinking straight."
"I'm fine!" Adam snapped, charging - well, stumbling rapidly - towards Douglas, his fists raised menacingly. With a sigh, Douglas side-stepped to get out of the way. Undeterred, Adam snarled and twisted towards Douglas, throwing a punch that Douglas easily ducked under. The action caused Adam to spin around comically on one foot before collapsing on the floor in a heap.
Leo burst into laughter. "Stand much?"
Douglas crouched down and rolled Adam onto his side. "At least we know where he's sleeping for now."
Bree was wiping the last of her tears away. "You're just going to leave him there?"
Douglas sighed. "He's too heavy for me to move and you two aren't coordinated enough to help me. When I get you two handled, I'll have Yahn help me."
Leo frowned. "What kind of handled?" He gasped loudly, a horrifying thought crossing his mind. "Man-handled?"
"No," Douglas responded. "Just getting you to bed so that you can sleep it off."
"Sleep what off?" Bree asked.
Douglas pinched the bridge of his nose. "Your drunken state."
"But it makes everything fun," Leo protested.
"Until you pass out," Douglas growled.
Bree gasped in horror. "We're going to pass out?! Are we going to die?!"
"Probably not," Douglas answered.
"Probably not?!" Bree screeched. She jumped up and started speaking rapidly, but her words were so slurred that they were unintelligible. Leo started laughing at the energetic display. She looked so stupid.
Douglas stood up and walked over to her, resting his hands on both of his shoulders. Before he could say anything, though, Bree jerked away from him, stumbling a few steps. "I hate that robot hand! It's cold and hard and unnatural!" Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, though, she appeared mortified. "I'm sorry," she instantly back-tracked. "I didn't mean -"
Douglas silenced her by resting his real hand on her shoulder again. "I already know you don't like it. It's no real mystery that you try to avoid it."
"I'm sorry," she repeated, hugging him. Apparently, alcohol turned her into an overly-emotional, touch-happy person.
Douglas rolled his eyes as he started scratching her back gently. He pointed at Leo with his free hand. "You. Go to your room and go to bed." After a second, he amended himself. "Never mind. Go to the living room and sleep on the couch. Taking Hellcat up the stairs was a bad idea. We don't need a repeat with you."
Leo tilted his head. "Did he ever find out if rabbits are soft?"
Douglas nodded. "They are."
"Tha's great!" Leo slurred. He then started laughing. "I soun' stupid!"
"No shit," Douglas muttered.
Leo stood up, an act that sent his head spinning. He stumbled and lurched back into the desk, his knuckles scraping painfully on the edge. However, he managed to brace himself against the desk before he fell. "I want to pet the rabbit, too."
"No!" Douglas yelped immediately.
Leo frowned. "Why not?"
"Because I shooed the rabbit away," he answered rapidly.
Bree pulled away from him. "But I wanted to pet it, too."
Douglas gently directed her towards her capsule. "If you go to sleep, I'll bring the bunny in the morning."
Bree balked. "You just want me to go to bed. You're not going to get the rabbit."
Douglas drew an imaginary cross over his heart. "I promise that I will."
Bree studied him for a moment before staggering to her capsule. She fumbled with the door - a display that triggered more giggling from Leo - before she finally snarled and jerked on it. It flew open so suddenly that she stumbled back a few steps with the momentum. She gripped the door tightly to steady herself before she basically fell into the capsule, catching herself with her hands before she crashed into the glass. "You better have the bunny in the morning," she muttered.
Douglas closed the capsule door. "I promise. Night, Bree."
"I'm not sleepy," Bree protested. However, within a minute or two, she was snoring softly.
Despite a strange feeling that began to grow in his belly, Leo started laughing at Bree only to be shushed by Douglas, who had no one else to target now. "To the living room, Leo," he huffed.
Leo frowned, ignoring his stomach. "But I want to stay down here with Ysthry and Yahn. You guys are going to do something fun without me, and I want in on it."
Douglas pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yahn is just about to leave. There's something in the backyard that he needs to get rid of."
Understanding the vague hint, Yahn instantly went scurrying down the tunnel. Meanwhile, Ysthry flapped her wings noisily, rising in the air to land on Douglas' shoulder. "I'm not staying down here with these two," she explained when Leo tilted his head curiously. "Adam might try to throw me."
"Adam isn't getting up anytime soon," Douglas pointed out, eyeing his eldest son on the floor.
The strange feeling was getting worse by the second, and Leo swallowed hard in an attempt to dispel it. "Why isn't Adam -"
His question was cut off by a particularly violent surge of bile in his throat. Against his will, he vomited multiple times, creating an ever-growing puddle on the floor as he doubled over. Douglas carefully avoided the foul mess and gave Leo's back a few pats. Leo - who had been laughing moments before - found nothing funny about the situation as his insides finally calmed themselves.
Despite the horrible taste in his mouth and the fact that he started to shake, Leo suddenly felt so much better. He grinned, swaying a bit as he rested his hands on his knees. Beside him, Douglas sighed. "Between you and Hellcat, I'm going to be cleaning for the next few hours."
Leo frowned. "What happened to Hellca'?"
"Let me worry about that," Douglas answered as Leo straightened up slowly, his head spinning more than it had been earlier. "To the living room with you! Come on."
"But I'm not tired," Leo protested as Douglas turned him towards the elevator.
Ysthry nudged Leo's cheek with her nose as Douglas steered him around his mess and Adam. "Trust me: You'll be out as soon as your head hits the pillow."
"There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable."
Mark Twain
Douglas
Leo was asleep almost as soon as he laid down on the couch with a blanket spread over him. His arm was hanging off the side so that his hand touched the floor while Ysthry curled up against him, her small head resting near his throat.
The scene would've been cute if Douglas hadn't spent the past hour moving Adam to his capsule and scrubbing vomit off of the upstairs carpet, Lab floor and elevator walls.
High-speed elevators caused projectile vomiting in drunk Leos, apparently.
Douglas ran his hand over his face in frustration. He couldn't believe that Oly had talked them into pulling a stunt like that. Not the part where Oly convinced them, but the fact that they had given in.
Since when did Chase listen to Oly?
Then again, the four were teenagers. Mischief was a constant temptation.
Leo snored a bit loudly, causing Douglas to roll his eyes. Was HE that annoying when he was wasted?
Nah. He was too awesome to be annoying. Besides, some of his best scientific breakthroughs happened when he was drunk off his ass.
At least, some of his best ideas came to fruition. He just had a little trouble executing them. And remembering them when he sobered up enough to actually succeed in bringing them about.
But that was all beside the point. What mattered at the moment were the drunk kids that were soundly asleep.
Or had passed out. They had mixed it up in that department.
More importantly, it meant that they couldn't do anything stupidly dangerous in a bout of alcoholic bravery.
A shadow moved by the stairs, the living room light causing it to glitter a bit. Douglas narrowed his eyes. "Get out here, Oly. Now."
The shadow flinched, but slowly stepped into the light. Oly at least had the decency to look nervous as Douglas crossed his arms. "Oly, what in the hell were you trying to do?"
Oly covered her face with her wings. "Trying to get Bree to open her box."
"You put these guys in a potentially dangerous situation for rhinestones!?"
Oly snorted. "You drink all the time. I don't see the problem."
"I don't get that drunk!" Douglas snapped. "I know when to stop. These guys had no idea! What if one of them ended up driving? Then what? I have half a mind to trap you in a tin of rosemary and leave said tin on the counter until someone finally gets curious enough to open it and set you free again!"
Oly whimpered. It could take a few months before they stopped assuming that it was someone else's private box and opened it.
After a second, Douglas sighed. "I don't want anyone wondering where you are, though. It's your lucky day. So, instead, you're not allowed to speak at all for the next 168 hours, starting now."
Oly's eyes narrowed with anger as she winced. He had thought that order through. He didn't want to tell her to shut up for a week just for her to decide that the week was over on Sunday, enabling her to speak again. Besides, it would be a nice break for everybody from her incessant chattering. He wasn't finished, though. "More importantly," he went on, "you will never tell anyone where I hide my alcohol ever again." Oly winced again as the order took hold. Satisfied, Douglas gave Leo one last look before he headed upstairs. His next few hours would be spent checking on the kids to make sure that they were still all right.
Not that he expected them to wake up for a while. Being knocked flat on one's ass tended to be exhausting.
Once he made sure that Chase was still in the room - Oly did a fantastic job cleaning him up - Douglas quietly headed back downstairs, entering the elevator to descend to the Lab. Upon the door opening at the bottom, Douglas instantly noticed that Yahn had climbed into Adam's capsule. Said teen was sitting as opposed to his usual standing position when he slept, which allowed Yahn to curl up in his lap. Bree was leaning heavily against the glass, basically dead to the world.
Feeling better now that Yahn was keeping an eye on the two downstairs, Douglas made his way back to the living room. He made a point to check on the back porch for any blood stains that Yahn might have missed before resolving to start a cleaning business with the imp. The porch was spotless. As for the corpse, Douglas had no idea what Yahn had done with it. Honestly, he didn't care all that much, either. As long as no one would find it, it didn't matter.
Douglas started to feel confident that Donald and Tasha wouldn't find out about what had happened. Even though he wasn't involved, Douglas knew that he'd be blamed for it. If he hadn't had the whiskey, then they wouldn't have gotten into it.
It was true to a degree. But Douglas had had the bottles locked away. The kids made a conscious decision to seek it out. Even though Oly had put the idea in their heads, they became just as guilty as her the second they took a drink.
As Douglas routinely checked on the kids, he spent time thinking of ways to discipline them without tipping Donnie or Tasha off. However, he had a pretty decent way of ensuring that they wouldn't drink that much ever again.
He just had to wait until they woke up.
"If getting drunk was how people forgot they were mortal, then hangovers were how they remembered."
Matt Haig, The Humans
Chase
My head felt like someone had split it open with a hammer. What the hell was that about?
Groaning, I shifted a bit, pulling the blankets on my bed tighter around myself. I couldn't remember going to bed last night.
Actually, I couldn't remember last night at all. What happened?
You know what? I'd worry about it later.
Pinning my ears, I squeezed my eyes shut and attempted to go back to sleep. However, I gave up after about ten minutes. The sun was shining in my window in the most irritating manner and my head was throbbing, rendering sleep impossible. Besides, it was already two in the afternoon, according to my clock. Therefore, I decided that it was time to get up and find some Tylenol. And some water. Actually, a lake would cover it. My mouth was so dry that it actually felt fuzzy. It was uncomfortable, to say the least.
Finally getting up? my voice purred. Great. Just what I wanted when my head was killing me. It's about time. I say that you target something larger and more challenging now. The neighbor's dog, perhaps?
What the hell are you talking about, assclown? I thought irritably as I made my way to the stairs.
Last night. You killed a rabbit. It was fine and all, but not much fun. It didn't stand much of a chance.
I froze at the top of the stairs, my hand on the railing. Seriously?
It was brutal! I could sense its glee. You tore into it with your fangs. You even ripped its throat open.
That might explain why my tongue felt like I had licked a fur coat. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. The rabbit could've had all kinds of diseases and filth on it. The thought that I had ripped it up with my teeth was nauseating. Poor rabbit, though.
Lowering my ears as a particularly piercing throb shot through my head, I finally climbed down the stairs. As the scar across the back of my leg started to burn a bit, I could tell that it would be bothering me all day. Well, I was off to a great start. What else happened last night? And why don't I remember it?
Not much else, my voice informed me. And you don't remember it because you were drunk.
I was? I paused at the base of the stairs and rubbed my eyes, trying to think. I honestly didn't want to remember much; each thought seemed to make my headache worse. However, I finally came across the fuzzy recollection of drinking a few cups of whiskey.
Maybe I had just a few too many, in hindsight.
When I noticed Bree and Leo downstairs, they seemed to be thinking the same thing. Leo was sitting on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees as he rubbed his temples. Ysthry sat on his lap, licking the scales on her back. Bree was at the kitchen counter, looking generally miserable as she stared at an apple that she obviously wasn't going to eat any time soon. I perked my ears a bit at this. As horrible as it sounded, I was glad that I wasn't the only one who was having a hard morning. Instead of greeting them, I just started with a question that was nagging me a bit. "Where's Adam?"
"He said he'd be up in a minute," Bree answered. Leo nodded in agreement, unusually quiet.
I nodded myself before I limped to the couch and sat by Leo. I had never been so happy to sit down in my life. "We took it a bit far last night, didn't we?"
Both Bree and Leo nodded as the elevator opened, revealing a disheveled Adam. Yahn was perched on his shoulder, looking half-asleep himself. Maybe he had been up all night watching us?
Adam crossed the room and plopped down into the chair beside the couch unceremoniously, his expression the very definition of discontent. "My head hurts," he complained.
"You're not the only one," Leo muttered beside me.
"You four are lucky," Yahn lectured quietly. "You could have gotten hurt last night doing something stupid."
I opened my mouth to respond when the loudest, most unholy siren I had ever heard filled the air. It felt like someone lit a branding iron and shoved it into my brain as my headache intensified. Judging by the cries of pain that sounded around the room, I wasn't alone. However, I think I had it a bit worse than my siblings. My bionic hearing amplified it to the point that I had fallen to the floor from my seat and curled into a manly fetal position, covering my ears. I was aware that I was probably screaming with the rest of them, but I didn't really care. I was on the brink of tears when the sound abruptly ended. My relief was short-lived, though, as Douglas' cheerful voice – amplified by the bullhorn he had set off seconds ago – rang through the living room. "Good afternoon, morons! Welcome to the best part of drinking too much: The dreaded hangover!"
I tried to make myself even smaller, going so far as to cover my head with my wing. Maybe he would go away if I vanished completely into myself.
Lucky for us, Douglas decided to have mercy on our souls. I heard him put the bullhorn down before he spoke again, each word causing a spike of pain behind my eyes despite the fact that they were much softer now. "Fortunately for you, you have a month of punishment to get over it. Before I tell you what it is, though, we should probably pass around some coffee and painkillers."
Somewhere deep in that cruel man was a little heart!
It took us ten minutes to get everyone situated with a mug of coffee and some pills. I honestly didn't like coffee all that much, but the bitter caffeine was helping to clear my head. It still hurt like a bitch, but I was able to think a bit straighter. And it worked wonders for my dry mouth. Bonus prize, right? During this time, Oly had showed up. I expected her to have some stupid comment, but she just climbed into my lap and sat quietly. It was very strange. I perked my ears at her, but Douglas started to talk, which effectively killed any question I was going to ask. "What the hell were you four thinking last night?" He hesitated for a second. Adam opened his mouth to answer, but Douglas decided right then to start his rant. "You weren't. You weren't thinking last night! Do you know how much alcohol it takes to kill someone?"
I decided to answer. "About –"
"Less than you'd think," Douglas interrupted. "Honestly, if you four hadn't shared the bottles between you, it could have ended up a lot worse than it did." Chastised, we looked down at the coffee mugs in our hands as he went silent to allow that to sink in. Honestly, I could only think of it really killing someone if one of us had drunk both bottles by ourselves. However, I wasn't about to bring that up.
After a moment, Douglas continued. "I don't ever want this to happen again," he hissed. "And - not more importantly, but pretty close – I don't want Tasha to castrate me for bringing Jack Daniel's into the house in the first place." He shivered at the thought. "Deranged woman would probably keep them in a box over the damned TV like a trophy or something."
Probably not, but it was still an amusing thought. I had to bite back a grin.
"So, here's what we're going to do," Douglas resumed. "You four are going to volunteer to do your chores for a month without getting an allowance. Say it's for their anniversary or something. I don't care what excuse you use to justify it, just make it happen."
Bree's eyes widened. "But that's not fair!"
Douglas narrowed his eyes at her. "It's extremely lenient, and you know it. Next time you pull a stunt like this, though, you won't get off so lightly. Just ask Oly; she's banned from talking for a while."
The threatening tone his voice carried made us all nod immediately. In my lap, Oly crossed her arms and scowled.
After a second, Douglas sighed. "You have about an hour to compose yourselves enough for Donnie and Tasha. You should probably get dressed or something."
When Mr. Davenport and Tasha arrived home, they were entirely too loud. However, we grinned and bore it, grinding our teeth against our headaches as we rose to hug them.
Tasha instantly looked us over with a critical eye while Douglas stood innocently in the background. "Did anything happen while we were gone?"
"Not even a 'hello'?" Douglas snorted, rolling his eyes.
Mr. Davenport instantly glanced at his brother. "Okay, what are you hiding?"
"Nothing," Bree answered for him.
"Everything went smoothly," Leo elaborated, smiling widely.
From across the living room, a hellish, high-pitched voice sounded. "Really? Because I have cameras that tell a different story."
Tasha raised an eyebrow at Eddy. "Really?"
"Yep," Eddy chirped cheerfully. "You're little angels are funny when they're drunk."
"Drunk?" Mr. Davenport's eyes looked ready to pop out of his head as Tasha's mouth dropped open.
Eddy nodded before he pulled up the video footage of last night. While it was a bit of a relief to see that we hadn't actually gotten into too much trouble under the influence of alcohol, I could feel the anger rising in Mr. Davenport and Tasha as each second passed. Panicking, I whispered, "Douglas? What do we do?"
No answer.
I glanced over my shoulder to see that Douglas was nowhere to be found. He had likely bailed the second that Eddy showed up.
Coward.
When the video ended, the looks that were shot in our direction were terrifying. I grinned nervously. "Oops?"
The floodgates of Hell opened up upon that word. And even though I sensed that we would be grounded for a lot longer than a month, I really only had a couple of thoughts at that moment.
I would never listen to Oly again.
And I would never touch another drop of whiskey in my life.
Well, that was a shitty ending. However, it was 9,232 words long at that point. It needed to stop.
I left out Oly trying to get into Bree's box a second time due to length. Besides, you're smart. Use your imaginations.
Also, don't expect a one-shot too often. Zara needs to sleep, too. :P But they'll be around occasionally.
Anyways, feel free to review. Or don't. Whatever.
Don't drink excessively!
And enjoy.
*Bows and exits*