Thought I might let everyone know that I have the 11th chapter for this story started, though I have to re-upload the rest of the chapters. So sit tight ok?

Update (5/12/15): I decided to change the name of Jack's dad. It would be plain and unassuming but it would make sense.


Ostara Chapter 8: Calm Before the Storm


A snore escaped from his lips as he slumped against his chair, just breathing in and out; completely oblivious to the real world around him before forming a pillow with his arms. The action of his movements caused the already tilting mini tower of documents fell over, along with some knick-knacks and that caused him to wake up.

"Hey, wha…!?" he blabbered as he looked around in his current situation.

Scattered papers along the floor…that back ache from his computer chair…his desk…

Then he felt a dried residue on the corner of his mouth and something stuck to his forehead.

Blinking in confusion, John reached up and pulled off the post-it and saw "flying ocelots" written on it. After reading it…everything came back to him.

Of course…he pulled off three all-nighters for the file reports of a case and spent the night in his office.

Again…now that was just sad.

He let out a sigh but relaxed as he smiled at the result of his work. The only important thing is that he doing some good to the community. While he could understand that his line of work seemed rather imperfect, and sometimes difficult, but John does his best to place kids in a good home.

There was this one time that he heard a colleague of his transferring to Hawaii, and dealt with an interesting case concerning about two orphaned sisters.

Other than that, this is better than his last job…and there not one ounce of regret.

"Time to hit the sack…" he yawned as he stretched out his limbs and made his way out of his office.

As John walked down the hallway, he noticed a particular door was slightly ajar. He blinked before silently made his way over to that certain room and gently widen the door. There lying upon the once vacant bed was a certain white-haired teenager, sound asleep and completely oblivious to everything around him as he curled upon the mattress like a cat.

Which was odd, since the last time he had spoken to him, Jack said that he would be in Australia for a couple of weeks with his class.

John stared at him blankly for a moment before a soft smile grew on his face. Well, that can wait in the morning…

"Never thought to see him home so soon," he spoke to himself. He then went inside and walked up to his sleeping son's side, gently running his hand through the silver-white locks.

"Rest well, kiddo…see you in the morning."


Next morning…

There is something about the concept of breakfast that you can't get enough of.

Maybe it was the presentation of a well-prepared meal that somehow looked like something out of a four-star restaurant.

Or how good it smelled as soon it was off the stove…

Either way, Jack needed something to ease his stomach. He smiled in appreciation when his mother set a bowl of raspberry oatmeal along with his eggs and bacon.

"Thanks, Mom, they look good," he spoke to her as soon as his father took a seat by his side while Cora is content with her marmalade and buttered toast and eggs combo.

Even though he is indeed hungry, Jack couldn't help but stir his oatmeal a bit, occasionally taking a spoonful. That particular thought just couldn't leave his head, even when he woke up this morning.

God, why couldn't he have normal problems like any other teenager?

"Hey, Jackie? Jackie?"

Jack blinked and looked up to see his Dad that seemed to have materialized in the seat by him. His dark brown eyes were filled with concern, and judging by his hair, he was just got out of bed. He felt his throat being dry as he looked up to him, swallowing a bit.

"You ok, Kiddo? Your mother told me what happened yesterday, and you seemed more out of it than the last time I saw you. You had me worried." Leave it to his Dad, even though his sixth sense is not as strong as Mom's, but he does help in his own way whenever he has the chance to talk with him.

Jack just shrugged as he looked up to him with a small smile. "It's nothing, just jetlag…"

His Dad doesn't seem to be convinced but he didn't push on further, and assumed on eating his breakfast. Jack felt a bit relieved when the older man didn't say anything further and started on his own breakfast. He took a spoonful of his oatmeal, savoring the sweet and tart flavor along with the tastes of oats and milk. A part of him felt terrible about lying to his own parents, but the thought of them thinking that he was insane, was a bit too much of a risk to take.

However…they're his parents…

They trust him…and he should trust them as well. So, it was now or never.

"Um…Dad?" he spoke up, almost hesitant.

His Dad looked up to him with a sound of "hmm" when he took a spoonful of his breakfast.

"I'm…not very truthful to you and Mom…" he admitted, swallowing a bit, feeling the uncomfortable twisting sensation inside of his stomach. "Something…did happen back in Australia."

He could see his Dad shift his gaze over to his Mother across the table briefly before back at him. Jack didn't need to look over to know that Mom was looking at him too. Cora was quiet as well, and she joined in staring at her older brother.

His Dad didn't say anything, prompting him to continue on further. This is it, time to be honest with them.

"Dad…I know that this might sound crazy, but…I somehow broke some long-lost god from his prison and he wanted to make babies with me."

There…he said it. Now he had to wait for the aftermath.

Jack hesitantly looked up to see what his reaction was like. When he looked up, he saw a rather blank look on his Dad's face. What is going through his head, he has no idea and had no other choice but to wait and see.

"Oh, Jackie…" here it comes…Jack mentally and emotionally braced himself for impact. Then like a flipping a switch, a rather unsettling smile split his father's face, almost reminding him of one of those Ken dolls that he had seen in the toy section that he accompanied Cora when they were younger.

"Of course that sounds crazy, because you're sprouting insane nonsense."

Wait, what?

"And for that, we have to get you some help."

Jack blinked for a second and then he noticed the walls around him are padded…and he was in a straitjacket.

Wha-what?

He looked up and saw his father standing before him, still smiling while a doctor and a nurse stood behind him. The said doctor's eyes were obscured by light reflecting in his glasses, giving him an intimidating aura while the nurse looked like someone out of One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest, if not looking a bit more mannish and rather beefy. He could even see a hairy mole on her chin, rather distracting if it would take away his attention on how unpleasant her expression and face looked.

"You'll be in safe hands…" His Father reassured him in a rather calm and monotone voice that is enough to give HAL 9000 more human personality. "I'm sure you'll be all better."

"WHAT!?" Jack was about to make a break for the door, only to have it slammed on his face. He stared pleadingly at his father through the tiny barred window; he could pound on the surface if it weren't for the fact that his arms are restrained. "Dad…Dad, please…"

"This is for your own good, Jack." Those were the last words that he heard before seeing his own father literally walk out on him.

Jack…

Jack…

Jack…?

Jackie?

"Jack!"

Jack blinked as he realized that he was staring at his oatmeal and quickly looked up to his father, who has a concerned expression on his face.

"Look, I know that the oatmeal might be a terrible thing in the past," he spoke in a soothing tone. "But I can assure you, it didn't kill Batman's parents. You don't have to glare at it."

Oh…he was daydreaming…or rather just thinking about what could be the worst case scenario if he were to tell his parents the truth.

"S-sorry…I…got a lot on my mind…" Jack replied bashfully, as he set the oatmeal in front of him.

Quite the understatement of the year, Frost….

From the corner of his eye, he could see his Dad looking unsure as he prepared to eat his own breakfast. "Are you sure?" he asked, pushing on a bit. "Your Mom did say that something happened during your trip in Australia."

The white-haired youth looked up to him, trying to make his smile look natural as much as possible. "I'm sure of it, someone got sick and I'm still dealing with jetlag. It's nothing."

It seemed that his Dad doesn't seem convinced, judging by the way he was studying him with his dark brown eyes. That look slightly reminded him of that daydream/worst case scenario, making him swallow a bit.

After a moment of silence, the older man finally let out a sigh before smiling at him. "Alright…I'll let this slide this time. Just let us know if you want help, no matter how small, ok?"

Jack couldn't help but smile-genuinely this time- as he nodded. "Y-yeah…got it…"

He then proceed to start his breakfast as his family joined in, the tension in the atmosphere was easing up a bit. Maybe he should wait a bit before telling his parents the real reason why his trip was ended abruptly. Perhaps, in some way, he would find some way to fix this mess that he brought upon the world.

But for now, the first thing that Jack would do in the morning was to relax.


Six hours ago, evening…

Night blankets over Burgess, while some of its inhabitants are asleep, others try to enjoy whatever nightlife downtown has to offer.

A young blonde woman walked out of the bar, laughing along with her friends. "Oh, my god, this is the best night of my life!" she exclaimed, looking a bit tipsy.

One of her friends chuckled as she steadied her shoulders to keep her from falling over. "Easy there, Sugar," she eased her. "You've got too much to drink!"

"Sugar" looked over to her friend with a loopy smile as she hung loosely around her. "No, I didn't…" she slurred before letting out a hiccup. "I just had a few, shat's all…"

The third member of their group- the only woman that wasn't drunk- shook her head at her friends' antics. "I think I have enough fun for one night, ladies," she told them, readjusting her purse on her shoulder. "I'm gonna head on home, I got work tomorrow morning."

As "Sugar" babbled on some nonsense, their friend turned to her, looking concerned. "Are you sure, Mary?" she asked. "I don't know if it would be safe for you to be out here alone."

Mary smiled at her with reassurance as she nodded. "Sue, it'll be ok…my place is actually just down there," she gestured over down the street from the bustling bar. "Besides, I have pepper spray and my cellphone."

The brunette woman was unsure at the moment, not minding at the fact that "Sugar" was rambling something about platypus-bunnies or something like that. "Ok…just…just be careful alright?" she readjusted her grip on the blonde woman to keep her from swaying further. "Just keep me posted while I get Ms. Tipsy here home."

Mary smiled as she waved her friends goodbye before separating their ways. Now that she is completely alone, she briefly was having second thoughts about her decision but shoved it back into her mind. Her apartment is a few blocks from here, and this place is a small town. Nothing interesting happened in this place if it was a holiday or the farmer's market event. However, the second thoughts reared its ugly head as she was yanked backwards into an alleyway when Mary felt a meaty hand clamped over her mouth.

She barely let out a muffled scream until she felt herself being shoved harshly against a brick wall, but not as much as she had to deal with the bruising that will form on her face. Her hazel eyes widened in horror when Mary realized the person in front of her is. As if the knife wasn't much of a clue…

Oh, why did she think that walking home alone late at night was a good idea?

"Alright, lady…" His voice was low and raspy; she could almost smell a mixture of sour alcohol and tobacco in his breath thanks to the close proximity. It was enough to make her want to vomit. That is if it weren't for his hand practically covering her face. "Here's the deal…ya give me all yer valuables and maybe I wouldn't cut yer pretty little face and have you spread yer legs for me. How's that sound?"

Mary didn't know if he would keep his word, either way, she will be a dead woman that would suffer unspeakable things beforehand. Just when she was about to hand out her purse, there was a sound of a can being kicked was heard. This caught the mugger's attention while keeping his grip around her face. Mary managed to look over from the corner of her eye in order to see what made that noise.

She could see the figure in the shadows and from what she can tell with the limited light that it was a man. Oh, God, please let it be the Good Samaritan types. However when Mary's eyes adjusted to the shadows- and little more illumination of the moon- she started to notice that the stranger was bare-chested…

And that goes the same everywhere else.

You've got to be kidding me…I'm being saved by a Terminator wanna-be?!

The Mugger barked out a rather harsh laugh as he also noticed the stranger's nakedness.

"Ha! What is this, a Terminator reenactment?" it seemed that she wasn't the only one that noticed it. "This ain't some movie where you're the heroic robot from the future, ya sick freak! I highly suggest that you should fuck off while ya still can."

The Stranger stared at him-it seemed from her viewing- before letting out a sigh.

"It's amazing how this place changed throughout the years," he seemed to have an Australian accent, and Mary would have melted to how low it sounded if it weren't for the fact that she might be mugged. "But no matter where I turn to…there will always be ratbags like you that scurry in their own filth." Then he let out a small laugh as he shook his head, while placing a hand on his bare hip. "It's so sad, it's pathetic."

Whoever this guy is, he is either stupid or brave. Mary had no idea, but it seemed that what he said got to the bum in front of her. The way he was squeezing her face and his whole body shook, it clearly did more than pissed him off. After what seemed like forever, he finally released her face, giving her the chance to take in air greedily before her legs gave out underneath her. She would have used this opportunity to bail but she can't for some reason. It seemed that her legs somehow became frozen, rendering them useless.

But the bright side is that the mugger set his attention on the stranger now.

Only problem is that the said stranger is weaponless.

The Mugger sneered at him as he rose up his knife threateningly at him. "I'm gonna skin ya alive, ya freak!" With those words said, he sprinted forward to the Stranger, fully intent on stabbing him in either one of the vulnerable spots.

Mary wasn't unable to call out the stranger to run, since her voice seemed to be stuck in her throat. The Stranger just stood there as the Mugger charged at him, not even making a move to run away or grab a nearest object to use as a weapon. However what he did surprised her. Just as soon as the Mugger got near him, the Stranger grabbed the latter's wrist and twisted it so hard, she could have sworn she heard the bones crack. That action made the greasy man scream in pain and was forced to drop the knife, the blade let out a clanking sound upon the concrete.

But he didn't stop there.

The Stranger then used his free hand to grab the poor man's throat and lifted him up off of the ground with surprisingly no effort at all. Mary could almost see the rippling muscles, and she would have admired them properly if it weren't for the fact that he was choking the life out of the man who not too long ago held her hostage. The Mugger gripped the wrist as he kicked his feet in the air, almost as if it would make the other man to drop him.

Only the Stranger doesn't comply, only tightened his grip around his windpipe further and made him sputter and gag for air. After a good short while, Mary could see the Mugger's movements decreasing, and soon, he became limp. And her savior carelessly dropped him to the ground like a rag doll, staring at his prone body with disdain.

Mary's body was shaking the entire time, not knowing what to do or what to think. She didn't even notice the tears that were seeping out of her eyes as she stared up at him. Is he really a good man? Or is he worse than this guy? Will she live through the night?

She doesn't know.

The Stranger seemed to take notice of her, making her flinch underneath his gaze. A few moments have passed, and he finally spoke to her.

"Alright, Sheila…beat it."

She didn't need to be told twice as Mary scrambled to get up on her feet, cursing her decision to wear pumps. She didn't need to deal with this crap any more than necessary. The further away, the better…

He let out a quiet "hpmh" as the pathetic excuse for a woman scampered off to who knows where. "Now then…" he said as he looked down at the poor bloke, whose windpipe he might have crushed. Oh well, he might be some person that no one will miss.

"On to the more important things…" he then knelt down the now prone body and began to strip it of its clothing.

"Even the fashion changed…I think I would get used to this era."