Name - G.I. Joe Fic

Chapter 2

A/N: I do apologize for the extreme delay. With my summer being booked, among other things *cough cough plot bunnies wouldn't bite cough cough*, I was completely stuck, so here you go. A long deserved chapter in the story of Name. And if I haven't expressed it, Guest, your review was really amazing. It got me to finally get this chapter done. Brownie points to you, dude. Thanks again for the great support. I really appreciate it.

The storm had gone from a heavy rain to a full-blown storm. It slammed against the panes of glass with such a force that Duke was afraid of the windows obtaining cracks. Looking at the dog tags in his hands, then to the door, and back to the tags once more, Duke decided that the house needed occupying. The porch swing creaked as he stood from it, as did the floor with each step he took to the kitchen door.

Duke hated the kitchen, but it was Scarlett's second favorite room. The walls were a light yellow with red cabinets. The floor was tiled with black and white squares, and the counter tops were an ugly light grey with multi-colored boomerangs all over them. It really was an ugly counter top, but Scarlett thought it was perfect…

The kitchen had so many good glimpses in it – not full memories, but random little snippets of memories.

The house smelled like grilled cheese, chicken noodle soup, and apple cider as Duke walked in the door, his shirt drenched in sweat. Fixing the hole in the barn roof wasn't the best idea in 90 degree weather, but it had to get done eventually.

"Daddy, you have to cwose da doow behind you! Momma tuwned da aiw condisionew!" Dakotah shouted as walked into the kitchen from the toy room. She crossed her arms in complete seriousness, and her dad couldn't help but laugh to himself as he shut the door behind him.

"Oh, my deepest apologies, Dakotah. Can you ever forgive me?"

She thought for a second.

"….Yes, Daddy. You're fowgiven," She said before sitting at the table, her purple corduroy bunny in her lap. "Mamma, can Mr. Yum-Yums have some salad? He's hungwy, too."

"Is a grilled cheese okay?" Scarlett asked, turning to face her daughter from the sink. She grabbed a towel to dry her hands off before grabbing a freshly washed plate out of the drainer. Dakotah picked up her bunny to 'hear' what he said, then set him back down.

"Yep, he likes sandwiches."

"Good to hear, Mr. Yum-Yums."

"What about Daddy? Does Daddy get to have lunch?" Duke asked with fake expression of jealousy as he went to fill up a Mason jar with water. His wife caught a whiff of him and wrinkled her nose.

"After he takes a long shower, he can eat! Conrad, you smell like… like…"

"Like a stinky old howse!"

Duke smiled to himself. That kid was something else, that was for sure. His smile soon faded, though. The fact that he was now alone, that his wife was dead and his daughter went missing, hurt Duke's heart.

Out of nowhere, before he realized what he was doing, Duke found himself waiting for someone to answer the phone.

"Flint! Flint, you'll never guess is on the phone right now!"

"Is it Roadblock?"

"Nope. Higher rank."

"Well, then Hawk."

"Just a bit lower."

Flint took a minute to think when it dawned on him.

"Duke?!" He was met with a nod of Lady Jaye's head. She handed him the phone as he hopped out of his reclining chair.

"Duke, is that you?"

"Hey Flint; yeah, it's me. How have you been, pal? Haven't talked to you guys for a while." Duke was trying to stay calm in his kitchen while he listened to Flint's voice on the other end of the line.

"Oh, we've been fine. Jake's playing football for school, and Marissa's getting straight A's. I couldn't ask for any better kids, Duke." Duke tried holding back the tears as he listened to his old comrade speak of his own children. He questioned why he even called in the first place.

"That's… that's great, Flint. It's good to hear, pal." Flint could hear the distress in Duke's voice.

"Con, you okay? You're over there in that house by yourself, and it's not good for you."

"Yeah, I'm fine, Dashiell," he said, pausing for a moment to rub his eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't even know why I called, Flint. I didn't realize I had until it was ringing. I apologize for interrupting your evening."

"Con, it's fine. We were just waiting for the kids to get home. It's no trouble, really."

"Thanks, Dashiell… I just… I've been thinking a lot of Shana lately… and Dakotah. I'm so alone, Flint. I have no family now."

"….Conrad, why don't you come and spend a week with us?" Flint knew what the answer was before Duke even gave it; no.

"I couldn't, Flint. That would be too much of me to ask."

"No, no! I insist, Duke; come and stay with us for a while. There's more than enough room for you."

"I don't know, Flint…"

"Duke, you're coming to our house. Alison, the kids, and I insist that you do. You best be ready for my arrival because I'll be there on Monday."

PG

Reagan watched the storm worsen as she waited for the computer to boot up. The fact that Alex had even bothered to do something nice for her bugged her. The guy was a stupid jock who cared only about football and being popular. Then again, he had always been a quiet person, all through elementary and middle school. Maybe he wasn't so bad…

But he was the reason they all called her Scarface. Alex had dubbed her Scarface back when she started second grade and all the other jocks caught on. The only popular kid who never gave her crap about the scar on her face was Jake. Jake didn't find it funny to point out the long faint line on the right side of Reagan's face. He knew that it bothered her when people pointed it out, and in fourth grade, he punched Jesse in the face for taunting her about it. That's how Jake became her best friend.

The strike of lightning made Reagan snap out of her little daydream about Jake punching Jesse, and it also knocked out the power. Reagan sat in the darkness, crossing her arms.

"Great… back to study hall." School rules stated that in a situation of a power outage, students had to be with the teacher they were with that hour. She grabbed her planner and pencil and walked out the door. Down the hall, all the other rooms had lost power as well. Several immature students screamed because they thought it funny.

'Dips…'

It was still pouring when school let out. The streets were half flooded when Reagan ran to her father's navy blue pick-up truck.

"Reagan, how was school today? I see you got a nice shower." He smirked.

"Yes I did, Dad… and if you must know, I got Davis to ram himself into a bunch of lockers today. The jerk charged me, and I side stepped him. Jerk didn't even know what hit 'im."

Her dad nodded. "Not bad… So, got any plans this weekend? Maybe some time at Jake's?" Reagan looked at him with a smirk.

"Not yet, no… Maybe I'll text him to see what he's up to on Friday."

"Isn't there a game on Friday?"

"Yeah, but Jake's benched this week. You know how it is…"

Reagan looked at her dad. He was a big guy with brown hair and brown eyes. Reagan had blonde hair and blue eyes. She looked a lot like her mom, she had been told; she had the blonde hair, and she came from a family of blue eyed Polish people. Sadly enough, Reagan was informed of her mother's departure when she was merely a four-year old child. She never remembered it, and she didn't remember much of anything from before age five. The things she did remember were things that didn't actually happen, almost as if they were from a dream.

"Yeah, I know…"

Her phone buzzed; it was Jake.

"'Hey, want to sleep over this weekend? Marissa's having a slumber party; she wanted you to come…' Can I go? You have to work this weekend, and next week is Break."

Her father pondered for a moment. "Jake's the only guy that's gonna be there, right?"

"If Mr. Faireborn has anything to do with it, Dad… C'mon. Please?" At this point she was practically begging.

"…. Okay, fine. If next week's break, you might as well ask if you can stay next week. I have to be in Cincinnati until next Tuesday."

"Jacob, go get the door! The Bells are here!"

"Yes, sir."

Jake had been made official doorman of the party, which really sucked. Open the door, greet the guest kindly, carry their bags, and close the door. If it had been anyone else, like, not any of Marissa's girly-girl friends, it wouldn't have been so bad.

He opened the door. "Hey, Jake. How's the life of the doorman going?"

"Oh, it's fantastic, Reagan. Come on in."

"Good evening, Reagan. I'm glad you could join the party tonight." Mr. Faireborn had been reading the paper in the kitchen, but Faireborns and the Bells had grown quite close as families with Jake and Reagan being best friends. He put his hand out to her.

"Thank you for allowing me to stay, sir. I hope it's no bother that I'm staying all week as well," Reagan replied, taking his hand and shaking it with a grip stronger than expected.

"Oh, it's not a bother at all," he said, surprised at the girl's hand grip. "Adam, how are you, pal?" He turned his attention to Reagan's dad.

"I'm great, Dashiell. Thanks again for letting Reagan stay for the week. I have to be in Cincinnati until next Tuesday."

"Oh, it's no big deal. We have another guest coming in on Monday. He's staying with us until he gets back on his feet."

"Oh?" Adam looked at Reagan who shrugged.

"Yeah, a close family friend; he's been having a rough time for a while. I hope that's okay with you."

"Yeah, that's fine. He work with you when-"

"When Alison and I were in the military, yeah…"

"I see. Well, Reagan, I gotta get going. I have an early flight tomorrow, so I'll see you after break," he said, looking at his watch. "I love you, kiddo."

"I love you, too, Daddy. See you soon."

Adam bit his lip at the word 'Daddy.' He never felt like he deserved that title.