AN: I don't own PRDT, just my OC.
If this seems like a filler chapter, you'd be right :) I felt like I needed a transitional chapter, even though some might not find it necessary. Please review! =]
"You know, I've always wondered what it would be like to spar with the great Tommy Oliver," Cain smirked, standing across from him.
"You're not going to take my head off are you, Captain?" Dr. Oliver smiled.
"No promises," he responded with a large grin, his canines were once again exposed.
They bowed to each other and assumed their stances. The pair side stepped in a complete circle, waiting for the other to make the first move. They lunged at each other simultaneously with a kick, neither of which made contact. Any attack one threw, the other blocked and countered it. It appeared that they were dancing rather than fighting, their moves were almost in sync with each other. Cain became distracted for only a second, but it was enough time for Dr. Oliver to land a blow to Cain's torso, slightly to the left of his stomach. He growled in pain and stumbled backward a couple steps.
"One to zip, Cain. We're going up to three points, right?" At the spot that Dr. Oliver struck Cain, his shirt turned dark red and was expanding fast. He dropped to his knees, clutching his left side. "Cain, what's wrong?"
"My…veins are…on fire…" he struggled to say between labored breaths and growls. With each movement he attempted to make the shots of pain grew stronger and gained distance across his body. Every heartbeat was more agonizing than the last as the tainted blood pumped through his veins.
"Cain, let me see," he said with concern, grabbing his arm. A wave of lightning burst from Dr. Oliver's hand and electrocuted Cain, sending him into a miniature seizure on the forest floor. He looked down at his hands, in utter confusion to what just happened. After his convulsions finally stopped, every muscle in his body tightened. Cain opened his mouth to roar in pain as Dr. Oliver assumed, but an actual human scream left it; something he had never heard come from him before. "What is it?" he desperately asked, trying not to touch Cain again, fearing that it would cause him more suffering. His chest ripped open and began bleeding as if something had impaled straight through him.
"Make it stop…" he gasped, straining himself to even keep breathing much less speak.
"I can't…I'm sorry. You're going to be fine, Cain," he lied. Cain continued to writhe on the ground while Dr. Oliver knelt at his side feeling completely helpless to what was going on. He couldn't do anything without severely hurting him. It was already his fault that he was wounded in the first place. Cain suddenly became still, his lungs no longer filled with air, and it was doubtful his heart was beating, but Dr. Oliver couldn't be sure without touching him. "Cain!" he shouted. "Cain!" He leaned down toward Cain's chest to see if he was able to hear a faint heartbeat, but had no such luck. "God damn it. This can't be happening…" Dr. Oliver held out a single finger and hesitantly poked Cain, testing to see if he would still shock him. Once sure that he could no longer do him harm, Dr. Oliver locked his fingers together and started compressions to Cain's chest, trying not to irritate his withstanding injury. After seeing no viable results, Dr. Oliver hammered Cain's chest in anger. "No!" he screamed.
Dr. Oliver shot up out of bed covered in sweat and was breathing heavily; his alarm clock had been smashed into several pieces spread all over the bedside table and the floor below. He wiped his brow and looked down to see the remains of his former clock. "Shit," he muttered, traversing to the opposite end of the room to the dresser to find out the actual time by looking at his watch. After quickly jumping in and out of the shower, he put on his dress shirt, tie, and slacks for work; dreading the difficult day ahead.
All five Rangers were unusually quiet when Dr. Oliver entered the classroom, Kira in particular. Her eyes were locked on the paper she was scribbling on, while the others' wandered the room, occasionally giving one another a quick glance. He adjusted his glasses, taking one last look at his notes for that day's lecture.
"Dr. Oliver, what did you do to your hand?" Cassidy asked, noticing his bruised knuckles.
"It's nothing, just an accident." The Rangers simultaneously shot him a look of concern and disbelief that he returned with a stern one. "All right, what do you guys know about Velociraptors?"
"Aren't those the wickedly smart dinosaurs from Jurassic Park?" Devin questioned. "Yeah, they would travel in packs and they communicated with each other all the time so they could hunt better."
The class burst into laughter at Devin's explanation. "Hollywood would have you believe that, but an actual raptor is far less interesting," he smiled. "Velociraptors aren't all that intelligent either. The creature portrayed in the movies that they pass off as a Velociraptor is actually called a Deinonychus; at least that's the closest thing I could compare it to size and character wise."
"A Velociraptor is a genus of the dromaeosaurid theropod dinosaur that existed approximately seventy-five million years ago during the latter part of the Cretaceous Period," Dr. Oliver continued. "Their common ground was located in Asia, namely in the Mongolian region where the first fossils were discovered in 1922. Velociraptor mongoliensis is the most common of the raptor species and has been studied most extensively. Though they may only reach two feet in height, raptors can grow up to seven feet long with most of the length coming from their tails. One thing the movies did get right is the Velociraptor's second digit on either foot with an extended claw. The sickle-shaped claw can grow up to almost three inches long and was used as a predatory device, most likely to deliver the final blow to its prey. Velociraptors aren't reptiles like other dinosaurs; they're warm-blooded and are covered in feathers, even having wings but not the ability to fly because of their size and weight. Paleontologists reported the discovery of quill knobs on a well-preserved Velociraptor mongoliensis from Mongolia, confirming the presence of feathers in this species. Modern birds such as the parrot and pigeon among others are said to have evolved from the Velociraptor."
"So the Velociraptor was basically an aggressive, flightless bird?" asked James, a varsity football player who sat in the back of the room.
"Pretty much," Dr. Oliver replied. "Knowing all of this, what can we assume about its social and predatorial behavior?"
"That Velociraptors would kill small dinosaurs because they're so small themselves," Ethan suggested.
"You would think that. However, raptors generally hunted what would be considered out of their league, taking down such large herbivores as the Protoceratops and Tenontosaurus. Going back to the movie comparison, it suggests that Velociraptors are strong pack hunters, but no such evidence has been found to prove this theory. A group of fossils has only been found once surrounding a Tenontosaurus carcass, but that probably meant that they were merely feeding together, not that it was mutually their prey."
"I think that's enough of a lecture for today," he sighed. "In your books there's further information on the origin of the Velociraptor and others in its order. It also goes into more detail about the evolution of the raptor into the aviary creatures you see today. I'm going to make a quick trip to get a cup of coffee."
Dr. Oliver made his way to the teacher's lounge only to find the morning's coffee already consumed. He prepared another batch, massaging his right hand while he watched the liquid slowly drip into the pot. It didn't hurt this much until Cassidy brought it up, he was trying not to think about it.
"Rough night?" Mrs. August asked, entering the lounge.
"You could say that. Rough week is more like it," he sighed.
"What happened?"
"A friend of mine, a soldier, was killed in action yesterday."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Tommy. I'm sure he was a great soldier and an even better man," she comforted, rubbing her hand along Dr. Oliver's back.
"Thanks, Molly."
"Any time. I'll leave you then, it looks like you need the alone time."
He smiled in appreciation and nodded as she grabbed her sandwich out of the fridge and traveled back to her own classroom that was presently empty because this was her planning period. He rested his head on his left hand, keeping his right flat on the table to avoid aggravating it further.
"Shouldn't you be in class, Dr. Oliver?" Principal Randall's irksome voice echoed from behind him. "That is your job, you know."
He looked up, gritting his teeth at the very sight of the woman. "Yes, I'm fully aware of that. I ran for some coffee, but the pot was empty. I needed to make another one."
"Am I to understand that you left your classroom full of delinquents unattended just so you could get coffee?"
"They're not delinquents, they're teenagers, practically adults. I trust them."
"Have you ever considered that you're too trusting of people, Dr. Oliver?"
"I trust those who have given me proof that I should. No one else."
"Fair enough. Well for being so trusting you can cover detention for me today. I have something to attend to and you're just the right person for the job," she wickedly smiled. "By the way, I overheard what happened to your soldier friend. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten involved in such a dangerous line of work." She gave a smirk and strutted out of the room and closed the door behind her.
Dr. Oliver slammed his fist onto the counter and increased his pain tenfold, completely forgetting about the injury he sustained the night before. "Son of a bitch…" he swore, clutching his hand. Without even realizing it, he cracked the counter all the way back to the wall. He used his left hand to pour the coffee into his mug and struggled to hold it still with the other. "Well any hope of using this hand today is officially gone." It wasn't the nurse's office, but the lounge had certain first-aid supplies including an ace bandage that Dr. Oliver carefully wrapped his hand in.
When he returned to the classroom, Dr. Oliver was surprised to find less than ten paper balls scattered on the floor. A majority of the students were actually doing the assignment he gave before leaving. Conner would usually jump at the chance to slack off in class, but like the other Rangers, he was lost in the textbook.
"I know it's a little sudden, but you guys can go ahead and leave. I'm dismissing you early." Everyone but the Rangers fled from the room as fast as their legs could take them. After the room was clear they immediately approached Dr. Oliver.
"So what really happened to your hand?" Kira asked. "You obviously made it worse on your coffee excursion or you wouldn't be wearing that."
He let out a deep sigh. "I blew off some steam last night without thinking, but it's fine. The wrap is just a precaution. I found it in the teacher's lounge and figured I would take advantage."
"I swear to God, everything in the free world is in the teacher's lounge," joked Ethan. "So we'll see you after school, Dr. O?"
"Not quite. Randall has me covering detention again today."
"Why does she hate you so much?" Conner asked.
"I have no idea, but I'm getting sick of her."
"Well see you later, Dr. O," said Trent, the others repeated after him with their own variation.
"Later."
Only being Monday, Dr. Oliver didn't expect to find many students in detention, but the staggering amount of three children made him think whether someone needed to cover it at all. James the varsity fullback and his girlfriend sat in the back of the room talking and another student whom he had never seen before was on the other end of the room buried in a thick book.
"James, what are you doing in here? What could you possibly have done between first period and now?"
"Principal Randall saw Sarah and I kiss goodbye after lunch in the courtyard and she gave us detention for public displays of affection," he explained, the girl next to him nodded in agreement. "It was such bullshit, it was just a quick peck because we were going to be late."
"Watch your language, James, I'm still your teacher even in here. What did you do to get yourself here?" Dr. Oliver asked, turning his attention to the other boy.
"I came out as the victor in an argument with Randall," he replied, his eyes still scanning back and forth across the pages of his novel.
"Care to elaborate on that?"
The teen closed his book with a smirk. "Randall came into my AP Government class earlier to observe and take notes like she always does every blue moon. She then decided to oh so rudely include herself in the debate at hand which centered around which form of government would be best suited for a Utopian society. Without thinking, or at least I hope she wasn't, she suggested that an autocracy with a dictatorial regime would be the best solution. Besides the obvious things wrong with her proposal, I said that her metaphorical city-state would eventually crumble due to being overthrown by its people as most other dictatorships have in the past. She came back saying that with enough governmental control her people would never unionize themselves to start a revolution to overthrow her. Though that may be possible, I explained that a system such as that isn't for the benefit of the commonwealth overall, and therefore not the best form of government to adapt. I proposed that a socialist republic would be best suited for several reasons; including the fact that capitalism, one of the main issues plaguing our society is out of the question. Socialism can be lightly described as a compromise between communism and our flawed democracy, and represents the interests of the working class instead of tailoring to the wealthy and powerful. She didn't say anything after that, she just walked out and gave me a detention slip in my next class."
Dr. Oliver stared blankly at the boy, trying to comprehend how someone his age could make such an informed proposal. Not since being friends with Billy in high school had he met someone so intelligent. "Impressive, even more so that you rendered Randall speechless. What's your name?"
"David McAvoy, sir."
"Nice to meet you, David. How is it that I've never seen you in any of my science classes?"
"I have AP Biology with Slater instead."
"Understandable. What grade are you in?"
"I'm a freshman, sir."
"Really? And you're jumping into advanced placement so early?"
"Yes, sir. I plan to go to MIT when I graduate and major in Biochemistry so I figured I would take all the AP classes offered here. I have AP Chemistry and Calculus AB next year."
"With that schedule I assume you have the credits to graduate early."
"Yeah, I do. I can leave after my junior year."
"That's very ambitious of you, Mr. McAvoy. My friend Hayley and I both graduated from MIT. I guarantee you'll do great there."
"The owner of the Cyberspace?"
"Yes."
"I recollect her mentioning you attended college together. She's the only one I've ever found who could actually assist me in my experiments or homework," he smiled.
"Well I'm glad you two have been acquainted. You don't deserve to be in here, David, you can leave. That goes for the two of you as well," he said glancing over at James and Sarah. "Principal Randall is known for giving detentions for the tiniest of offenses, or things that aren't breaking any school rules at all."
"Thank you, Dr. Oliver," David replied, carefully placing his book into his bag.
"Yeah, thanks," James repeated.
"Hey, David, can you hang on a minute?"
"Sure thing."
"Just so you know, if you ever want to talk about anything, whether it be science or something personal, you can always come in here. Besides, I could always use you as a sub," Dr. Oliver joked.
"That's much appreciated, sir, but paleontology isn't exactly my strong suit, so I'll let you handle that," he smiled.
"Out of curiosity, what book were you reading earlier?"
"Plato's collected works, but at that moment I was on Book II of The Republic."
"You're too smart for your own good, David. It would be an honor to have you as a student."
"And you as a teacher, Dr. Oliver. Have a good afternoon."
"You too." Once David left the room he took the phone out of his pocket and sent a text message to his old teammate Billy with a wide grin on his face that read: I just met a student who could have been your twin in high school.
A few minutes later his phone vibrated with Billy's response. Oh really now? How so, Tommy?
He's smarter than pretty much anyone I've ever met, in every advanced placement class the school offers, graduating early from high school to pursue a biochemistry degree from MIT, and leaves everyone speechless when he finishes explaining something. The most surprising part of all this is that he's only a freshman.
I'm flattered you would think so much of me as to compare the two of us. Who is this student of yours?
He isn't my student, he was in the detention I covered today.
For what reason did he receive detention?
The principal gave it to him after he won an argument about different types of government against her. She has a stick crammed so far up her ass it's ridiculous.
I see. I assume he was quite aggravated about being given detention for such an offense.
Actually, he found it pretty hilarious. He isn't as tightly knit as you, Billy.
I suppose that can be considered a good thing, I tend to over-think things.
Yeah, you do, but you couldn't change that even if you tried.
That is correct.
Okay, since I've got you here and considering how often you actually answer my messages, I want to ask you something. What do you know about the military's involvement in our affairs?
Well as you know Eric and Wes are part of a militaristic unit that aids the Rangers from time to time, as well taking care of minor incidents.
That's not exactly what I meant. I was referring to the United States' military, namely the Marine Corps' Special Operations division.
Can't say that I have, but I will look into it for you.
Thanks, man. You're still the best.
Much appreciated, Tommy. I will contact you when I acquire the information you seek.
Trent pulled up to the Ford residence around four that afternoon, he and Kira were supposed to "study" together. He knocked on the door five times and Kira's mother was the one who came to the door, who was assumed to be at work at this hour.
"Damn," he thought, but suddenly switched his tone to one more polite when he spoke. "Hello, Mrs. Ford, is Kira home?"
"Good to see you again, Trent. Yes, Kira is upstairs, but she might be taking a nap."
"Thanks." Trent tried to go up the stairs as quietly as possible. The last time he woke Kira from a nap he ended up getting punched, even though he just accidentally knocked something over. He slowly opened the door to find Kira snuggled up in a ball on top of her comforter. Trent smiled as he crawled onto the bed next to her, moving a stray hair out of her face as she slept. She squirmed at his contact, which brought a smug grin to his face. He noticed that Kira was grabbing her comforter, clenching it tightly in a fist, and was mouthing something that he couldn't interpret. "Kira," he whispered. "Kira, it's time to wake up." Trent lightly rubbed her shoulder in order to gently wake Kira. His tactic, however, was ineffective.
Her entire body tensed as she grasped the blanket even tighter. "No…" she mumbled.
"Kira, come on, please wake up," he began to shake her.
"Please…don't…"
"Kira!" She twitched awake at the volume of his voice shouting her name and looked over to him with a vacant expression. Trent placed his arms around her and she followed suit seconds later. "Talk to me," he whispered.
"I watched him die right in front of me…I can't get it out of my head."
"I know, we all did."
"You don't get it," she pulled away. "You didn't see how much pain he was in, all that blood…there was nothing I could do to stop it."
"Stop blaming yourself, Kira. A weaker man would have died instantly, but Cain fought to keep us alive. One person can only take so much, I suppose. I guarantee that if we were able to ask him, he wouldn't have done anything differently."
This time Kira was the first to hug Trent. They locked in their embrace silently, but no more words were necessary.
"You know, Dr. O, I would call that hole in the wall a hell of a lot more than just blowing off some steam," remarked Conner as Dr. Oliver entered his lab and pointed at the hole in the stone slab. He simply smiled and shrugged in response.
"Let me see your hand, Tommy," Hayley ordered.
"It's fine, Hayley. You worry too much."
"Considering it's you we're talking about, that's impossible."
"Very funny. Have you guys ever met a freshman by the name of David McAvoy?"
"Yeah," said Ethan. "He's in my Algebra II Honors class. That kid is smart as hell, he does everything in his head like it's nothing, even trig. Why?"
"He had detention with me this afternoon and he left an impression; just wondered if you knew him."
"What could he have done to get detention? He's usually so quiet. All he does is read and work."
"He got into an argument with Randall and won, so she gave him detention for it."
"She would pull something like that," Trent interjected.
"David comes into the Cyberspace all the time just to talk," Hayley stated. "He never ceases to amaze me with the things he says. He's always tinkering with something, even when we're in the middle of a conversation."
"I wouldn't be surprised if he had a secret lab in his basement too," laughed Conner. "Are you all right, Kira? You seem kinda quiet over there."
"I'm fine, I just have a lot on my mind," she replied, taking a quick glance at Trent. "AP national exams are coming up in a couple months."
"Right, I forgot you were taking a couple of those."
"Yeah, Econ and Music Theory. It's the first one I'm worried about."
"You'll do fine, Kira," Ethan reassured.
"Thanks, she responded softly.
After a couple more hours of conversations the Rangers slowly began to head home one by one with Kira and Trent being the only two besides Dr. Oliver remaining down in the lab. Hayley had left long before that to take care of a few things at home. Trent's phone vibrated and with a sigh he answered. "Hey, Dad," he greeted, stomping up the stairs, agitated that his father calling so late. The growing frequency of these calls was getting on his last nerve.
"I know damn well that those exams aren't what's really bothering you, Kira. What is it?" asked Dr. Oliver, taking a seat next to her.
"I don't want to talk about it, Dr. O."
"It's about Cain, isn't it?"
There was an extended, silent pause before Kira opened her mouth to answer, but even then she hesitated. "I can't stop thinking about what happened…I can't get the images out of my head no matter how hard I try. I've been having nightmares about it."
"I'm sorry. Coincidentally, so have I," he sighed. "Hopefully over time the after effects of his death will lessen and eventually disappear altogether."
"Thanks, Dr. O, I hope so too for my sanity's sake."
"No problem, Kira. I hope it's soon, my alarm clock fund is getting low. I smashed one this morning during the dream, and that isn't the first time something like this happened either."
"Seriously?"
"Shit happens," he smiled, escorting her back upstairs since Trent would be off the phone soon, and it was getting late. "I'll see you tomorrow, Kira."
She nodded, "See you then, Dr. O."