This story takes place a few months after the events that happened on Total Drama World Tour. Everything that happened up to and including the finale of TDWT will have happened in this story. However, for the purpose of the plot, Total Drama: Revenge of the Island and Total Drama: All Stars never happened. Don't get me wrong, I like those seasons as much as the next fan, but for this plot to work, they can't have happened. Also, I am going to apologize for any OOCness from Heather beforehand, but you'll hopefully see why she's behaving the way she is in later chapters. I will try to keep every other character as spot-on as possible though. Wish me luck with that!
Disclaimer: I do not own Total Drama; it is the property of Teletoon and Cartoon Network.
"No."
The word rang out through the living room, bouncing off the walls and echoing down the hallway. The harshness and ferocity of the speaker's voice might have deterred most people, but then again, Chris McLean was not most people.
He had been arguing with the two adults for a good ten minutes, and they were beginning to regret the fact that they had begrudgingly allowed the wicked man into their home. The average-sized chamber seemed almost crowded, with seven people contained within the space, most seated on either one or the other of the two couches pressed against opposite walls.
Four individuals sat on an ebony leather couch pressed up against the back wall, and it was obvious at a glance that they were all related. A man appearing to be in his mid-forties sat in the center of the cushioned furniture. He was wearing a pair of beige khakis, a light lavender button up shirt, and had a baby blue sweater tied across his shoulders. The man, probably the father, was also sporting some rather thick-rimmed glasses. Sandy blonde hair was styled to the right of his features, and despite his extremely toned physique, the male appeared to be quite feminine. Currently, he sat rigidly against the cushion, his legs crossed as he glared over at the opposite couch.
Next to him sat a raven-haired beauty, her eyes tilted just enough to show off her Japanese heritage. Her lips, glistening slightly with a soft rose hue, were pulled down into a dark scowl. The mother seemed to almost glow in her pale yellow sundress, which accentuated her pale features quite nicely. A string of pearls encircled her neck, completing the appearance of perfection. Or rather, it would if she didn't have her arms crossed against her chest in an indignant fashion, and her charcoal eyes weren't shooting poisoned daggers at the Total Drama host.
On the woman's right, sat her eldest child; a woman with curled, sandy blonde hair like her father. A pair of navy blue jeans adorned her legs, held in place by a glittering sequined belt. A pale green crop-top hugged her chest tightly, showing off her toned figure. Almond-shaped eyes flashed behind her stylish glasses, and her lips were pursed in irritation. The daughter sat straight-backed on the end of the cushion, her palms clasped together in her lap. Every so often, the eldest would mutter darkly under her breath, though the words were always unintelligible.
On the opposite side of the couch, a young boy that seemed to be in his early teens was lazily stretched across the arm, one leg kicked up on the smooth material while the other swayed off the side. The youth was wearing a black t-shirt with a skull design on the front, with a long-sleeved gray turtleneck underneath. Olive green cargo pants hung loosely off his legs, just barely allowing pale toes to peak out from underneath the wrinkled material. The adolescent had onyx hair like his mother, as well as her tilted optics. Though he did get his hazel irises from the father, which were currently trained on a photo hanging in the corner of the room. Occasionally they would swivel to the man on the opposite couch, before stubbornly flicking back to the picture. Throughout the conversation, the son's hands had clutched tighter and tighter onto the dark leather of the couch, until his knuckles were white against his skin. It was quite obvious that the entire family had been on edge for some time.
The object of their intense hatred, was currently stretched out across another black leather couch pressed up against the opposite wall. Chris McLean was, for once, not decked out in his usual attire, but was instead sporting a plaid t-shirt with a white tee underneath, and some dark gray jeans. However, his long wavy locks were done up in his normal style. Fortunately, his ever-present sadistic smirk was surprisingly absent, only to be replaced by a rather exasperated expression. The Total Drama host sighed and lounged back against the cushions, scrutinizing the family darkly. A quick glance was exchanged with the well-dressed man next to him, presumably a lawyer, before he spoke in a rather bored tone, uttering the same words that he had stated at least thirty times since the conversation had started.
"You can say no all you want, she has a contract stating that she has to attend, or I have legal permission to sue," he monotoned, shifting his gaze to the father. "And given how nice your home is, I'm not entirely opposed to the idea." Chris felt his lips quirk up into a mischievous grin, and he waggled his brows over at the family, "The money I'd get might even be better than her returning to the show."
The mother gritted her teeth and nearly growled over at the uninvited guest, "Circumstances have changed. She… she can't go back to that horrid show. I won't allow it."
Chris cast a withering look at the woman, "Maybe if you would tell me what exactly these 'circumstances' are, then I would be more inclined to listen."
For the first time that day, the boy spoke, his words heated and laced with fury, "Shut up! Look, she can't go on your stupid fucking show. And no one is going to tell you why you asshole, so quit asking."
"Damien!" the mother spluttered, gasping at her son. "Watch your language!" It was quite rare for the teen to lose his temper, and even rarer for him to swear where his parents could hear, much less right in front of them. His father gave a startled jerk backward at the sudden animosity coming from the boy next to him, and even his sister leaned back to arch a brow at him.
"Well it's true! Chris McLame needs to give up and get lost. She's not going to go back on that show. Ever," Damien snarled, crossing his arms over his chest.
In a tempered drawl, his sister murmured, "I hate to admit it, but the twer- I mean Damien is right." Annette frowned across at the television show host, gracing the man with her level gaze. "You really should leave."
Chris chuckled wryly at the kid's outburst, finding his foul tongue quite amusing. Nevertheless, he was not a man to be put off by a little snappishness from two brats. "You know, I'd really like to know why Heather hasn't spoken at all. It's weird not having to listen to her complain and whine about whatever isn't going her way. Any thoughts, Heather?" he inquired in a wry tone, shifting his gaze over to the only person who was not currently sitting on one of the two couches.
As if a bomb had just been set off in the living room, an uncomfortable silence befell its inhabitants. Every single eye settled upon the middle child. Heather was currently sitting on a matching ebony leather armchair on the far side of the room. It was immediately apparent that she had changed somewhat since the disastrous finale of the last season of Total Drama. Her long onyx locks shown with a glossy sheen, and they had grown back down to the small of her back. A dark maroon hair tie had pulled her thick black curtains away from her face, keeping them in a low ponytail. However, that seemed to be the only positive note to touch on in the girl's appearance. Dark circles hung under her eyes, as if she hadn't had a decent nights rest in weeks. Her porcelain skin had also taken on an ashy tone, giving her an ethereal appearance. She had long since abandoned the revealing attires that she was used to, instead wearing a long forest green sweater and a pair of baggy black sweat pants. The former Queen Bee had yet to glance up from her petite hands, which were loosely clasped on her lap. Occasionally, she would twiddle her thumbs absentmindedly, before realizing what she was doing and still once more.
She didn't even lift her gaze when Chris had addressed her, though she did flinch her shoulders slightly at his sarcastic tone. Frowning, the host rose to his feet and before anyone could protest he began sauntering toward the silent girl. "Hello? Earth to Heather. We've been talking about you this entire time, and you haven't even said one word." Pausing next to her, Chris reached out a hand as if to grab her shoulder and muttered, "Yoo-hoo, Heather. Anyone home?"
Before the man had even come close to coming into contact with her shoulder, Heather jerked away from him as if burned. Frail hands began to tremble as she clenched them tighter, and she moved off of the chair to go sit down in the corner of the room.
The host only had a moment to register surprise, before the other occupants of the room finally came to their senses.
"Don't you dare touch her you dirt bag!" Damien screamed, jumping off of the couch only to sprint over and stand protectively in front of his elder sister. A few months ago, the boy would have chewed off his own hand before defending his sibling, but as his mother had said, circumstances had changed. Moments later, the eldest sibling strolled over at a far more leisurely pace, taking a position next to her little brother and folding her arms across her chest skeptically.
"What the hell is wrong with her?" Chris snapped, placing his hands on his hips and glaring daggers at the two children. "I mean damn, she's nineteen and acting like a five year old who's seen a ghost."
At this, the mother rose from the couch and strode over to her children, standing behind them and placing a hand on their shoulders. With a stern expression, she muttered, "I believe Annette is right, Mr. McLean. You have over-stayed your welcome, and it is time for you to leave."
Once more, Chris stubbornly refused to back down, "Listen Mrs. Wilson, your daughter signed a contract. Meaning that she is legally obligated to rejoin the cast and come back on the show. Her contract states that until she wins the million dollars, and keeps it, then I can bring her back whenever I want to until she is twenty-two years of age." With a triumphant grin, the man snapped his fingers. Immediately the silent lawyer came over and lifted a stack of paperwork from a chocolate hued briefcase. The host snatched the papers away and waved them smugly in the family's faces, "Ain't contracts great? If she refuses, then I can and will sue you for everything you own."
The mother felt her shoulders sag in defeat, and a soft sigh escaped her lips. However, no matter what this evil man said, she could not allow her daughter back on that show. "Fine. Sue. We'll… we'll figure something out," she snapped, though her words had lost a bit of their malevolent edge. "We'll get a lawyer."
Finally, the father moved to stand with the rest of his family, though he wore a troubled expression. Sharing a worried glance with his wife, the man bit his lip and stared back at his daughter. Heather had her brow furrowed, and she was biting her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Inhaling sharply, the man whispered, "Don't worry Heather-Feather, Poopsie will protect you. I promise."
For the first time, Heather lifted her gaze and met her father's eyes. She couldn't quite recall a time when he'd ever held so much love and compassion when looking at her. The girl had seen that expression occasionally when he'd looked at her brother or sister, but he'd never given such a look to her. Unfortunately, she could also quite clearly see the pain and worry hidden within his hazel pools. Since the fiasco on season two with Courtney, Total Drama had finally gotten much better lawyers to avoid further mishaps. If there was a lawsuit against the Wilson family, it was unlikely that her mother and father would be able to win the case. And it would be all her fault…
You deserve whatever you get. It's all your fault, and you deserve whatever you get.
The words echoed through her mind, and she winced and began to quiver more forcefully. However, she could not put her family through that. They did not deserve to suffer so much for one of her mistakes. The old Heather would never have done what she was about to do, but circumstances have changed. Clenching her palms into trembling fists, the girl rose to her feet. Taking a few steps forward, she came even with her parents. Tentatively, she placed a hand on her mother's shoulder.
Startled, the woman stared wide-eyed at her daughter, "Heather…?"
Her grip tightened slightly on her mother's shoulder, and her lips compressed into a thin line. Heather's expression did not change any further, remaining utterly dead. However, the elder woman had become quite perceptive of her child's subtle movements in the last few months, and she shook her head worriedly. "Heather, are you sure? Really, you don't have to. I promise we'll get through whatever they throw at us. I don't know how, but we will."
Heather kept her gaze steady, and she gave an imperceptible nod of her head. Her family would not suffer for one of her mistakes.
You deserve whatever you get.
Chris watched the entire exchange curiously, his head cocked to the side as his eyes followed Heather's actions. However, a relieved grin split his features as the mother finally uttered the words that he had been waiting to hear all day.
"Fine, she will go on your show."
Thanks for reading! I am going to try to update this story often, but we'll see how that turns out… Be sure to tell me what you think in a review please. And ooh, what's wrong with Heather? Why is Chris such a total dick? Where am I going with this story? All these questions will hopefully be answered in future chapters to come!