Just a side note. If anyone has problems with the rating of this (or any!) story, please tell me and explain why. I would really prefer for my story not to be taken down, and run the risk of me not having a backup file somewhere for it. Hope my made up entries sound official enough ;) That bit with the unnamed person; (I tried my hardest to avoid names) about being a surrogate father, that was how I had always envisioned the way they treated each other. I could be wrong completely. But this is fanfiction, so whatever. Should not be too hard to guess identities, I left a boatload of references.
This would have been up last Thrusday, but I was sick and then forgot. So here it is.
Chap 2
The flight had been peaceful for the most part. Airplane trips were not all they were hyped up to be. He had nothing to do except for reading a few books he had with him about charms and DADA. He was engrossed in 12 spells for self-defense in the middle of a description on how aurors tracked suspects when he looked at a line and cursed.
It is routine for any investigating auror(s) to obtain permission to cast a tracking/locating charm (See page 493) on a suspect. This use, of course, demands probable use or evidence of wrongdoing to hold this practice. Indeed, the use is so common that many do not bother to ask, and the misuse of this charm is usually ignored.
Harry hurriedly flipped through the book to page 493 (He was on page 127). There was the entry he was looking for, in a selection of commonly used charms and curses employed by law enforcement. He tapped on the charm title and the text expanded.
The tracking charms, of which there are several variations, give the location of the subject of the charm, unless said subject enters under heavy wards (See Fidelius charm, Family Manors, Ministry of Magic, and Goblin Magic). If the carrier has recently left the protection of said wards, the charm is usually blocked for a short time afterwards. This charm does not give off any kind of light or sound when attached to a target, helping conceal the presence of the tracker. Many adult wizards, especially in dangerous or high level/ministerial jobs, routinely check themselves for this charm. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!
Harry snickered at the abrupt change of tack, assuming (correctly) that Moody had helped create this book. However, this not being what he was looking for, started to scan the text rapidly.
This charm… Is detectable with most diagnostic charms… One of the most basic ones, easily learned even by those still in Hogwarts, is found on page 359.
Harry quickly turned to that page and scrutinized it. It did seem simple, with only a basic incantation and wand movements necessary.
After muttering the incantation to himself, and quickly glancing up and down to make sure no one was watching him, he cast the charm on himself. According to the tome, the basic diagnostic charm he was using could not do much besides reveal the presence of any trackers. The color that issued from the end of the wand was supposed to circle him before changing colors. For every color change, that equated to one locater charm.
He watched in dread, then alarm, and then resignation as the light quickly flashed into different colors dozens of times before it stopped. It flashed red and yellow and green and brown and scarlet and black and ochre and peach and ruby and olive and violet and fawn and lilac and gold and chocolate and mauve and cream and crimson and silver and rose and azure and lemon and russet and grey and purple and white and pink and orange and blue.
He moved back to the page detailing the locating charm and again started to read, looking for a way to safely negate the charm. He found the page he was looking for and sighed in relief.
This charm, unlike others, is easily and harmlessly removed by Finite Incantatem, a very simple spell. WARNING! If a magic artifact is being used to monitor the connections, and the counter spell is spoken with intent and more than the normal magic, it will overload the connection and explode the monitoring device(s).
Harry instantly thought back to the Headmaster's office, with the rows and shelves full of spinning, whirling silver instruments. He gave a feral smile and instantly cast the ending charm on himself dozens of time in succession, concentrating hard on destruction and pushing his magic into the incantation. He then rescanned himself and was satisfied when the color stayed at blue, the original color. He settled smugly back into his chair, leaning back with a sigh. While the charms were disturbing, there really was not much he could do about it. Whoever had placed the charms (He suspected Dumbledore and the faculty, as there were dozens of them) likely knew he was either on a plane or boat heading towards the US or Canada. There was no point worrying over that which he could not change. He resigned himself towards a welcoming committee and began to read on any offensive curses he could quickly learn that might prove of use. The inside out and energy beam spells looked particularly inviting…
(Line break)
Finally back in the (relatively) safe confines of his office, Dumbledore settled back into his chair with a sigh. He was really getting to old for this. He cast his mind back to the Gringotts debacle. Curse that Weasley and his thrice-damned temper! To distract himself, he glanced over at his shelf. The device told him that Harry was somewhere over the Atlantic. That meant he was going to either Canada or America. But why? Where had he gone wrong with the boy? Why would he trust Snape, a man that Harry hated, over himself? Yes, he had sent the boy back to the Dursley's… But he had to! The blood wards took power from sacrifice, originally Lily's. That power would have worn out eventually, and allowed the Death Eaters through. The wards took power from any kind of sacrifice. That included lack of love, the beatings, lack of contact with his friends, the list went on. Every time he was forced to give something up, the wards grew exponentially stronger.
That completely aside, he needed the boy to be shy and look to a leader. Namely, himself. Voldemort needed to be defeated, and Albus Dumbledore was just the man to lead the light. He could not afford Harry to split from him and possible form another side in the conflict that was raging in Britain. The sacrifices and lies required for Harry were regrettable, but it was all for the greater good. For a moment, doubt entered his head but it was ruthlessly crushed. This was necessary. A teenage boy in the throes of angst could not be allowed to do as he pleased, thus necessitating all the lies and the misdirection that went into Harry's everyday life at Hogwarts. Yet as he cast his mind back, he grew ever more uncomfortable with his actions. He had ignored the complaints and problems surrounding Snape, but he needed his spy! Had he known about Quirrel, well…? Yes. Kind of. His magic had felt different, it stank of dark magic. Yet he had ignored it, it was necessary for the boy to learn courage and skill for him to go through the gauntlet of tests before the stone. As for the tri-wizard tournament, please. He had known Mad-Eye for years. He was paranoia embodied. The man had layers upon layers of passwords, motions, and safeguards. The only one the fake Moody knew was the old refrain, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!
It had been clear on the first day this was not the old ex-auror, but his instruction had been better than anything else Dumbledore could have rustled up on such short notice. Harry needed to learn to defend himself, no matter the source. He had resolved to keep a heavy eye on the Death Eater, but he had failed, much to his regret. His oversight had resulted in the death of a student. As he reviewed all his past actions with a clear mind, he began to realize the truth. Slowly he admitted to himself that maybe some of his more questionable decisions were driven more by a slight appetite for power and recognition than for the good of the wizarding world, much less Britain.
If he was only just realizing this, how long had others known? Flitwick had started to distance himself from the Headmaster more and more in recent years, and had even told the Headmaster that he was considering a position at a different school, and the odds were good he would accept. What would Hogwarts due without their charms teacher? As an ex-champion on the professional dueling circuit, Filius knew what he was doing. He could not say the same for any last second potential replacement. He already had to find a replacement for DADA (Again) and potions, and now, likely charms. He leaned back in his chair and massaged his face wearily. It wasn't always easy being Hogwarts' Headmaster. He had to put on a good face in public to everyone. He could remember back to his youth. A (at the time) rather notorious Dark Lord had been killed by a heroic young wizard. The public had then begun to fear him for his power, though he had done nothing wrong, and eventually jumped at an excuse to eliminate him. That was part of the reason for his doddering old grandfather act. If people saw him as an unthreatening asset, they would not worry about him. He had to be very careful in the years after defeating Grindelwald, as people braced for him, Albus Dumbledore, to become the next Dark Lord. He never had and slowly the expectation went away, leaving him free to do his work. While people loved building up their heroes, the only thing they enjoyed more was tearing them down. Never let it be said that Albus Dumbledore did not know the ins and outs of the press. Now all he had to do was think of a way to spin this debacle so the blame rested on the goblins. He knew the goblins abhorred the press. All he had to do was present the story to the Daily Prophet first… He started up in his chair in alarm as acrid smoke filled the room before an explosion ripped aside the curtain of silence that had hung in the room. One by one, all of Dumbledore's monitoring devices exploded, sending pieces everywhere and irreparably destroying them. Coughing violently, the Headmaster waved his wand, clearing the room before looking at the mess. His office was a disaster. Again. That would need to be cleaned up. But first, he had to make a call to some friends in the Canadian Ministry.
(Line break)
The plane landed with a solid thump, bouncing a time or two before pulling into the gate at Toronto Pearson International Airport. Harry looked up, startled by the sudden jounce, before he sighed in resignation and placed his books away. He checked all his preparations. He was hoping that maybe Dumbledore had not been paying attention to the tracking charm. It was likely a vain hope, but one could dream. He disembarked, bag slung over his shoulder, doing is best to remain unobtrusive. He risked poking his head up and performing a quick visual scan around the gate and the people waiting to board. No one who looked too official was nearby. That was good. He had about an hour and a half layover before he hopped onto his next flight. He went over to the nearest café and ordered a sandwich and some coffee. He had grown quite fond of the stuff. As he was preparing to go back to his table, someone bumped into him. His sandwich and coffee flew out of his hands and he fell to the floor but a pair of hands belonging to the person who bumped him snatched out and caught it, before helping him up and returning them to him.
"Meet me at the table." The man who knocked him over said fiercely to Harry before walking away. Harry watched him walk to a nearby table in the corner in surprise. He was a seemingly middle aged man, dressed in normal muggle clothes, with the exception of a rather loud Hawaiian shirt. The man took a seat and glanced around before beckoning him over. Mystified, Harry shrugged and walked over, sitting down. "Good to see you Mr. LeBeau." The man said pleasantly. "I must congratulate you on your escape. Welcome to Canada." He held out his hand for Harry to shake.
Harry stared at him in bewilderment. The man cocked his head to one side, hand still poised in the air. "What?" He asked. "Did I accidently speak in Elvish again?"
Harry slowly shook his head.
"Then what is the problem?"
Harry shrugged before reaching out and shaking his hand. "My aunt always said not to talk to strangers." He rejoined.
The man threw his head back and laughed a little. "Well said. I received a message from a source rather high up in the muggle food chain in Britain, to be on the alert for a Mr. Newman and to help him in any way I could. In a startling coincidence, he is said to look exactly like a Mr. Harry Potter, who was also on the same flight. But then, I wouldn't know anything about that." He said as he winked furiously, making it look like he had something in his eye.
Harry chuckled lightly, warming up to him already instinctively. "No, I did not happen to see anyone going by the name of Harry Potter." He said.
"Oh good." The man settled back into his chair. "I apologize for knocking you over, but I had to get your attention, and I was not sure if you would answer to your new name. You can call me Mr. Jolly!" he said jovially. Harry slowly raised an eyebrow. "What? Don't judge! It describes me perfectly." He chuckled. "As one of the lines from a famous movie of yours says, I love to laugh!" He laughed again for a moment before growing serious. "I think your friends in Gringotts did you one better than you asked for my young friend. They revoked your British citizenship and got you an Australian one instead! Welcome to the Down Under mate!" He flashed a bright smile.
Harry smiled back. "Thanks for telling me. And please tell Ragnok thank you. But won't that tip off where I am going?" He asked worriedly.
Jolly shook his head. "Not to worry my young friend. It was not registered at the Ministry. It was registered at Gringotts and at the ICW, who cannot reveal it. So do not be worried. Eat, eat! Whoever heard of a skinny Harry Potter? Sorry, Jayden Newman." He watched as the (Now formerly) British wizard wolfed down the food. Jolly leaned forward. "Your plane does not depart for another hour or so. It my job, and the jobs of my fellows-" he gestured to another man leaning against a wall, apparently engaged in reading the newspaper, who looked up and gave a brief smile. "Who you can call Plumpy." He winked at Harry again. Harry smiled and nodded, after all, the man was a little more rotund than normal. "And somewhere around here is Queen Frostine." He was halted by the tip of a wand that appeared out of thin air mere inches in front of Jolly's face. A tall, lean man moved more of the invisibility cloak aside so Harry could see him.
"I told you not to call me that!" He hissed.
"Because he has such a frosty personality and cold exterior!" Jolly shot back. "But fine." He continued unabated. "You can be Mr. Mint." The taller man nodded reluctantly and pulled the invisibility cloak closer around himself, vanishing from sight. "Of sourness." He added under his breath so Harry could hear him. Harry snickered, and they heard a muffled indignant cry from the man who they knew was there.
"I heard that you know!" The voice hissed. Jolly nodded, completely unabashed.
"I know." He said happily, rubbing his hands together.
"I never understood your obsession with that game." Mint murmured.
"Its characters are named after sweets! How much more tasty can you get? But anyway, I digress. We are here on orders from the Canadian Ministry of Magic, who is much better than yours." He allowed himself a Snape like sneer for a moment. "To make sure nothing happens to you. When someone of her caliber calls us, you can be assured we listen." He continued.
As he finished speaking a flash of flame erupted in the middle of the table and Fawkes appeared. Contrary to his normal appearance, he did not sing and trill loudly but rather miserably sank down onto the table and offered Harry a letter. He reached for it instinctively.
"No!" Mint shouted. Everyone turned to look, but Harry had screened the Phoenix with his back, and seeing Jolly give an apologetic smile, returned to their business. "It's a trap." He stated more quietly. Jolly nodded.
"I half-expected them to try something like this." He said sadly. He fished something out of his pocket and reached to attach it to the envelope.
"What does that do?" Harry asked.
Jolly smiled grimly. "If this is a legit letter? Nothing. But if this is what I think it is…" He tossed the object at the envelope. Instantly, the portkey activated and whisked away, taking the phoenix with it. "It will explode once it reaches the other side in a small firebomb." He smiled, pleased with himself. When Harry gave him a worried look he relented. "It won't kill them." He waved his hand dismissively. "Just send them to St. Mungo's for an extended period of time with a lot of burns." He finished happily. Harry stared for a moment before shrugging it off, figuring that they deserved it. "Come on." Jolly said, rising to his feet. "We are going to go demand some answers from Dumbledore." He led Harry down the concourse and took several turns, finally entering a room with a bunch of rides and a few doors built into the walls.
"In here." Jolly said, leading Harry under a sign that said 'Pirates of the Caribbean.'. There was a nearby sign that proclaimed the mini-ride closed. Jolly smirked at Harry's face. "Stole that from our southern neighbors." He said happily. "Not the ride." He hastened to add. "Just the name and the idea. This place is always shut down. We have a magical security office behind here." They entered and Jolly busied himself by the fireplace, fiddling with the controls.
"There." He said. "Now they can't come through, or drag us in." Harry raised a hand tentatively.
"Excuse me sir, but can't they trace the floo connection? Dumbledore could send someone…" he trailed off as he saw Jolly bobbing his head.
"Yep. Here's hoping they do, I've been wanting to nail that bugger for ages. We're ready for them." He threw a bunch of powder into the fire and shouted. "Dumbledore's office!" The fire flared green and the Headmasters office was projected onto a screen, as the fireplace was currently closed to entry.
Dumbledore appeared surprised by his floo activating but quickly recovered. "Ah, Harry! I am about to head over to Grimmuald place to see you. Is something wrong?"
"Yes." Jolly strode in front of Harry and stood in front of the floo so Albus could see him. "Long time no see… Albie." Harry choked on hearing the name, coughing furiously for a moment before he got himself under control.
"Albie?" He asked incredulously.
Jolly smirked back at him. "At least I didn't call him Princess Lolly… Oh, Tweedle Dumbeedore, you must tell me, how is Lord Licorice?" Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his face with his left hand.
"Please, not again with your Candy Land fetish. I still haven't recovered from being traumatized last time."
"That explains quite a lot actually." Harry chimed in, and he and Jolly gave each other a high five.
"Oh, and how has Professor Gloppy been performing? You know, with his Glopclub. Or the head of the Lions, Grandma Nutt?"
"What did you call me?" Asked the good lady in question indignantly, coming into the room just in time to catch the tail end of the query. She narrowed her eyes in fury at Jolly. "Oh. It's you." She stated flatly.
Jolly looked shifty and turned to Harry. "Are we sure we want to continue? Last time Granny and I talked, she broke my ribs with her purse." He said this with a completely straight face.
Harry looked curious at this. He hadn't even known his former head-of-house had a purse. Though now that he thought about it, it was probably made out of the same materials as the Gumdrop Pass… He shook his head vigorously. Now he was talking like Jolly too!
"I always carry a brick in my purse still just in case I meet you again," she growled.
Harry's eyes grew wide and he looked at Jolly. "A brick? McGonagall broke your ribs with a brick?" Ouch." He winced in sympathy.
"I know." Jolly bobbed his head. "I was helping a friend of mine break up with her son. I was forced to step in to create a diversion to stop the conversation. Did not go so well." He rubbed his ribs gingerly, thinking back to that long ago day.
"It was self-defense." The transfiguration teacher responded. "You said you were there to rob me!"
"I was dressed in black and came out of hiding in the bushes! What else was I supposed to say?" He asked.
McGonagall stamped her foot impetuously, like a little child. "Anything but that! Maybe I would not have attacked you then!"
"I am so glad the second attempt went much better. It must have been due to my incantation at the beginning."
Harry looked at Jolly again. "Incantation?"
Jolly nodded vigorously. "Yes. Gloves on, earpieces in, prayers offered…" Harry snickered at that.
He looked at McGonagall, who was fuming, and asked another question. "Why do you call her Grandma Nutt?"
Jolly winked back at him. "Isn't it obvious? Grandma refers to her age…" He ignored the shriek of outrage. "And Nutt because she didn't like the other names."
"Like what?" Harry asked quickly, his curiosity piqued.
"Heart Breaker… Man eater… Soul Crusher… And Butterfly… of sadness." Harry shook his head in disbelief at his new Canadian friend and turned back to Dumbledore, who had been watching the verbal tennis match with acute interest, his large blue eyes twinkling.
"Now, would you like to explain why you attempted to capture me in Gringotts and attempted to kidnap me on Canadian soil?" He asked, hands on his hips, foot tapping irritably.
"My boy…" The Headmaster started.
Harry whipped a hand in the air to stop him. "I. Am. Not. You're. Boy. I am not your student, and you will address me as such."
"It is clear you have been kidnapped against you will-"
Harry waved his hands frantically around. "Whoa old man, back up the trolley a bit. What makes you think I was kidnapped? Just because I refuse to be led like an innocent lamb to the slaughter you think I must be captured? I am trying to get as far away from you as I can."
Dumbledore sighed and turned to McGonagall, his eyes twinkling as he adopted his best paternal expression. "It is clear he is either under the imperious or under some mind control potions. We need to rescue him as soon as possible. To that end, I sent a team-" From their side Harry and Jolly could hear the sound of a door being broken down before shouting and a fight ensued on the other end. "And there they are now." He finished smugly, sitting back in satisfaction.
McGonagall gasped in horror. "Albus, what have you done?" She asked slowly.
"Got you Dumbledore." Every eye turned to Jolly. "How stupid are you? This whole time, you thought you were oh so clever in keeping us talking while you sent troops after us. You have been outmaneuvered Albus. We are going to stop this attack, and then make a public example out of them. Congratulations. In one fell swoop, you have just ended the careers and home lives of anyone you sent here. And don't bother with the portkeys, or apparition. We have wards up to stop those. And I daresay your phoenix won't listen to you either. Face it Dumbledore. You're done. Just wait until I tell the ICW that their Head Warlock launched an unprovoked attack on an allied nation's territory. That is completely disregarding the fall-out of the bank. I highly doubt you will survive the backlash. And if you do, Canada, Harry, Gringotts, and I will all be waiting. It was nice meeting with you. " He performed a mock bow and turned off the floo, leaving the shocked face of the headmaster staring slack jawed after them.
Jolly looked at Harry as he drew his magic up around him. Harry watched as the air began to hum around him and realized that Jolly could be quite intimidating when he choose. "Ready?"
Harry pulled out his wand and whipped it through the air several times to warm up. "Born ready." They both turned and entered into the main office. It was bedlam. About twenty Order members and aurors were pinned down in a large group in the middle of the hall. Spell fire was coming from doorways, the walls, and emplacements in the floor. The attacking force had quickly transfigured cover for themselves, but were unable to do much. If someone popped their head up, they were quickly knocked out. They were forced to resort to firing blind.
"I got this!" Jolly called before backing up. He took a running start and leaped high into the air, coming down right in the middle of the invaders. "Geronimo!" He called as he landed and lashed out with his magic in every direction. The expanding ring of force slammed into the wizards and sent them flying, scattering them around the room. Canadians rushed out from under cover and began to duel with the wizards, most of whom were either stunned or bound in short order. A few managed to recover in time, and as Jolly started to duel Moody Harry took on Tonks. Harry opened matters against his opponent by casting a first year spell, Aguamenti, on the tile floor. Tonks looked confused.
"What was-" She jumped aside as Harry cast a bludgeoning curse at her and as she landed, she slipped, and crashed to the ground hard. Harry was right on top of her by the time she recovered and hit her with a body bind curse.
"Accio Tonks' wands" He said calmly, and was rewarded when a pair of wands sped into his hand. He wagged a finger at her. "Really Nymphadora." He said calmly. "You are an auror. Set an example! Invading a sovereign nation to try to kidnap someone? Really? I thought better of you." He shook his head mournfully. "My godfather gave his life to save yours. And you repay him by continuing to listen and obey the man who largely set up his death?" He saw the question in her eyes and sighed. "Oh please. Dumbledore was the person who cast the Fidelius. He knew the secret keeper was not Sirius. He just let him rot in prison for thirteen years. And then, when Sirius and a few others pushed for him to tell me of the link with Voldemort, he refused. I hold myself responsible for what happened, but he is equally to blame. I highly recommend you reexamine your life choices before you go to trial." He walked over and handed the wands to Jolly, who had subdued Moody in the same amount of time that Harry had succeeded in. Jolly pocketed them, along with all the other wands that had been captured.
"Good job." He said to Harry. "We are going to go lock them up now. Any objections?" Harry shook his head. "All right then. We gotta get you to your plane. It should leave in about twenty minutes." Harry glanced at a nearby clock and gulped. Jolly smirked. "Don't worry. We can get you through security easily, follow me." He took off running and Harry, not having any better ideas, followed him. The people at the security recognized him, and let him and the boy following him through without stopping them. Jolly slowed to a stop in front of the gate for his plane and bowed. "Tada! Here you are."
Harry smiled back. "Thank you for all your help Jolly." He said softly. "Dumbledore would have gotten me for sure without you."
Jolly just waved off his thanks. "Don't worry about it. Always glad to stick one to Dumbledore. We will make sure this gets out. Just remember, if you ever need help, you have friends in Canada." He faded into the background a little and watched Harry board the plane without incident. He returned to the security booth and walked to a phone. "Hello? Yes. Could you get me the New York Times and the Washington Post?"
(line break)
Thinking deeply always made him feel silly. It made him feel like he was contemplating the meaning of life or something. No matter how hard he tried to think back, he only caught flashes of terror. He had desperately tried to remember what had made him stay here in the first place. He ran through a check list in his head. He had felt… Attracted. That was probably the best word for this situation. He had felt attracted, obligated even, to help in fulfilling the vision the old man had, of a school, and a world that was safe for everyone. But he was gone now. Killed. In a fit of rage by what was essentially a remnant, a shadow, of the woman he had once loved. So that tie had been broken. He had wanted to stay around her, hanging around even after it was clear he had lost the race for her affections. Even then, he had still enjoyed just seeing her every day, enjoying her sense of concern over him. She was also dead. She had died twice now, actually. Once in a sacrifice, and the other time by his hand. He glanced down inadvertently at his hand. He clenched it into a fist and shook his head furiously. It wasn't like he had had a choice, but he still had nightmares of that moment. He still experienced self-loathing. That was a new experience for him. Or maybe it wasn't. It wasn't like he knew anything of his past life except for the last year or so. To this day, he wondered if he had done something, anything, differently, if she might not still be here today. He had felt a friendly comradery with her fiancé, but he too was in another realm now. And maybe it was for the better. The only thing that had connected them was their common love they shared. So really, what was left? What here demanded his loyalty? Sure, he had people here who tolerated him, liked him as a friend even. He had two girls who basically behaved as if he was a surrogate father for them, even if they had only known him for less than a year. One was out from under his wing now, living happily next to her boyfriend. The other still followed him around, and hung on his every word. But she was growing up. She had proved it recently with the way she had conducted herself and thought on the fly in that recent conflict. She did not need him anymore.
That just left the children. He had a soft spot in his heart for the little ones. And Heaven help the person who dared mistreat one while he was around. But he had seen the way they looked at him. Some looked with surprise, others with awe. Even more looked at him with barely disguised fear. Stories about him had circulated throughout the area, getting exaggerated and built upon with every telling. He snorted grimly. He wouldn't be surprised if at this point it said he had single-handedly fought an army and defeated its leader, maybe with a little assistance from his sidekicks. Sidekicks. If anything, the little ones had the story wrong. He was not a leader, never had been. He was more of a follower, a doer. He left the leading to others who knew better than him. He wavered for a moment, a debate raging internally, before he stiffened his resolve. His rep had painted a target on his back. Anywhere he went, he endangered those around him. It was better that he leave. She would be disappointed and unhappy, but she would get over him. She would find a different figure to look up to instead.
Decision finalized and mind made up, he busied himself with packing. He went around his room, throwing everything he cared to take with him into a small suitcase. His jeans and flannel shirts were the first thing he reached for; followed by his few possessions he truly cared about. She came in partway through his efforts, leaning in the doorway, watching him without saying a word. He did his best to ignore her as he continued. Finally having everything packed, he picked up the suitcase and turned to leave. As he came closer, she made no attempt to move out of his way.
"You are leaving?" Her voice was soft, as her white hair fluttered in the breeze from the air-conditioner.
"Yep. Here to stop me?"
She shook her head and backed up, removing herself from his path. "I wouldn't dream of it. Besides, I likely couldn't beat you on my own anyway." This drew a small smile, albeit a grim one, on his face for a moment. As he made to move past here, she grabbed his arm, forcing him to look her in the eye. "Just remember, you always have a place here with us. You are never alone."
He sighed and rubbed his face tiredly with his other hand. "We both know that you can't look at me without remembering her death in the back of your head. Neither can anyone else." She hesitated, ready to refute his argument, before dropping her eyes in silent acknowledgment of his point. He grimaced at the look on her face and stretched out a hand to her, clapping her shoulder. "It's not just you. I feel that way every time I look in the mirror. Not a night goes by when I am not forced to relive that moment. I never truly belonged here. I was always more of a lone wolf. I only came here originally because I was protecting a young girl who knew little about the world, who needed help. I somehow went from that to helping everyone here. But I can't take it anymore. I need to leave."
"But what about her? She admires you so much it's almost scary. She'll be crushed that you left without saying goodbye." She finished plaintively.
He frowned, his eyebrows coming together to form a solid line. "It would be even worse if I talked to her. It would rip both of our hearts open. She will never forgive me for leaving without talking to her, and that is best for everyone. I am unique. I can take punishment and keep coming back for more. Almost no one else here can do that, yet some of them want to be just like me. She will be sad for a while, but this spares her more pain in the long run." He put two fingers under her jaw and slowly raised her head up so she was looking at him. "I will never forget what you and all the others did for me over the last year. You gave me help, shelter when I needed it, and more importantly, a purpose. You gave me hope that I was not alone, that others have to go through what I did. I may not be here, but if there is an emergency, send out some kind of sign. I will know, and I will come." She smiled sadly as her eyes started to brim with tears.
"Alright then. Take care of yourself." She pulled him into a hug, one between friends parting, nothing more. He tensed, uncomfortable with contact, before she released him. "Your bike is still intact, waiting for you. Until next time then." She walked away without looking back, though it was clearly a struggle for her. He stared after her, shaking his head. "Until next time." He murmured, before heading downstairs. A small figure nearby who had hidden herself nearby rose to her feet. She had heard everything. She had been afraid this would happen, but now that it was, she had no idea what to do. His words about talking to her tore at her heart as she had listened. She thought quickly and ran for her room.
Meanwhile, downstairs, he flicked the lights on in the garage and stared over the motor pool before finding the bike. He grinned. Going fast was one of the few things that made him feel truly alive. It looked like it hadn't been touched since he last used it. He mounted it and flicked on the ignition, smiling at the purring of the engine. He opened the door and threw open the throttle, racing forward and out the open door, feeling the wind whip at his face as he raced away. The girl appeared at the entrance to the garage moments after he had left, and stared after him in consternation. She had hoped to go with him. Now she had to figure out a way to catch up. There was only one way. She turned and ran in the opposite direction, using everything she knew to avoid running into anyone. She threw open the doors to the hangers and, in a scene, eerily similar to the one moments ago, turned on the light and stared at the vehicle inside.
(Line break)
"Uh, ma'am? We have an unauthorized launch of the plane." The woman with white hair who was addressed glanced out the window for a moment, catching sight of the slight figure who sat in the pilot's seat, hunched over the controls, pressing buttons and flipping switches.
"Let her go." She said quietly. "She made her choice. She has flown the nest and followed him. We will probably receive it back in a week or so, giftwrapped and with a bow on top. In the meantime, break the reserve out of storage. Just in case."
"Yes ma'am." He said, subdued. "What should I tell the others?"
"Tell them the truth." The woman said, turning as her cape fluttered behind her. "She was one of the few who truly understood the motives behind his actions, and the torment and self-hate that accompanied his decision. She may well be his last remaining tie to us. Maybe one day she will bring him back. If anyone can dig him out of the well and pit of despair and misery he built for himself, it is her. Go get him girl." She said softly, sending her hopes and good thoughts with the young one who sped off in pursuit of the man, as the only one who cared enough to drop everything and follow him.
