After being disgraced by Luke, who had used his phone to record evidence that Clyde snored, Clyde had actually managed to sleep half decently by distracting himself with his mild anger. He found himself the next day joyfully aiming a small gun similar to a rifle. Pulling the trigger, confident in Luke's invention skills, he found himself feeling slightly deflated as a tiny laser shot started pelting towards the target. It would take about fifty of those just to dent it. Or at least, that was what Clyde reckoned until it exploded, taking out several targets around it.
"Jesus Christ!" The burly dude next to him yelled as his target was swamped in flames. Clyde ogled his gun, impressed. As the instructor ran up to inspect the damage, he mocked slipping it into his jacket.
"I am so taking this baby home." He grinned, winking at the instructor. For some bizzare and disappointing reason, the instructor didn't seem to find his antics so funny.
Doe-eyed and slumped, Clyde trudged his way up the hill back towards the house, spotting Luke balled up and sitting on one of the benches. Grinning automatically, he ran over and threw himself down next to his bestest buddy, prepared to enthral him with exciting tales about what had just happened.
"Have fun Clyde?" Luke asked in a small voice that was trying to be big. Clyde was frozen for a few seconds, registering, og course that would take time, he wasn't a super genius like Luke. But he wasn't purple like Luke either. Roughly, he shoved Luke's legs down so he was sitting normally on the bench, then straddled the smaller boy, grabbing the boy's head in his hands.
"What the hell is this?" He demanded, lightly prodding the tender area around Luke's eye which was slowly flushing purple, making the small genius wince.
"Clyde, it was my fault! Just please don't touch it!" Luke squeaked, his little voice sounding very little.
"What was your fault, 'cause having a black eye seems kinda like it was somebody else's fists fault." Clyde growled, studying the damage, careful no to touch the purpled skin.
"It was my fault, I was showing off!" Luke insisted, fidgeting below Clyde. It was at that point Clyde became very aware of their positioning. But he had more important things to do than worry about appearances.
"Luke, somehow I can't imagine you showing off about anything." He half snorted, Titling Luke's head up so he could see the injury in the light. Definitely fist sized.
"But they said I was!" Luke asserted, fidgeting again.
"What were you doing, just before they… they hit you?" Clyde practically hissed in a now quietened voice.
"Um… working on an electronically, three dimensional projection map of the area. Then I said I'd finished and they said I was a show off and yeah…" Luke trailed off feebly, moving his hands around as if he wasn't sure where to put them. After all his lap was occupied.
"They hit you for that?"
"I think they've disliked me for a while."
"Bastards." Clyde pulled his face to Luke's. "Okay, we're going to find some way of getting those assholes back." Luke's lip trembled.
"How, fighting's prohibited and-"
"and nothing, it's direct confrontation time!" Clyde grinned, though his insides were as wobbly as a jelly fish.
"But they're older, stronger and-"
"Off we go!" Clyde half yelled, hopping off of… Luke's lap and onto the grass, tugging Luke on behind him. Then he remembered Luke's earlier complaints and loosened his grip. He could feel himself trembling, half from the contact with Luke and the anger. They'd hurt Luke. They'd damaged his pure, beautiful skin. Irrational was a fair description for his current state but he had to do something. After all, it was for Luke.
AN: :D thank you for the reviews, they encouraged me to bother continuing. This does lead somewhere eventually… I hope!
