Chapter 11: A Light On in Chicago

And there's a light on in Chicago
And I know I should be home

--Fallout Boy "Chicago is So Two Years Ago"

Disclaimer: The Ducks and any reference to the past movies are property of Stephen Brill and Disney. Alex and any new characters are property of me! Any songs I use are credited, and this obviously never took place. Read, Enjoy, and Review!

"Line it up again, let's go Alex." Portman shouted. His voice echoed eerily off the completely deserted rink.

"Again?" Alex whined, skating back to the line. She was tired, out of breath, and aching all over.

"Look, this wasn't my idea."

"I know. I know." Alex grumbled. He was right, this hadn't been his idea. Usually a workaholic, Alex felt guilt for skipping practice while she was in Chicago. She had talked Dean into helping her work n her skating and her defensive skills.

"Ready?" Dean asked, a mean smile on his face. His complaining was a façade; in all actuality he was enjoying this as much as she was.

Alex nodded in reply. "Bring it on."

The drills pretty much consisted of Dean and Alex taking turns chasing each other around the ice. Alex figured this would help on several fronts. One, she'd tone up her skating and speed. Two, she'd quicken her reaction time and be able to skate around potential checks with greater ease. Three, she'd hopefully become a better checker. While she stayed relatively the same size, boys her age were out growing her. Alex figured if she could check her brother decently, she could check practically anyone that came along.

"Oof!" The air was forced out of her lungs as Dean smooshed her up against the boards. She slipped down them and rested on the ice for a few seconds, trying to catch her breath. She felt dizzy as the air rushed back into her lungs.

Dean poked her with his hockey stick. "Ya alright?" he asked, looking at her worriedly. "We can call it quits tonight. Ma's picking us up early tomorrow for the flight."

Alex shook her head and pulled herself back to her feet. "No, one more round. I wanna get a shot in at you."

Portman laughed at her. "Yeah right." He said, lining back up and giving her a fake evil glare. "I ain't believing that til I see it."

Alex shot one back at him. "Set? Go!"

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"I hate the middle." Was Alex's complaint as the boarded the plane the next morning. "Why am I stuck in the middle?"

Portman took out his headphones and sat next to the aisle. "Shut the fuck up." He hissed back at her as the stewardess explained the safety procedures. "Fulton's never flown over Chicago."

"So you sit in the middle."

"I'm older."

Alex sunk back into her seat and grumbled about hating the fact that she was the youngest. The argument was futile, and thirty minutes into the ninety minute trip both Fulton and Portman were both out cold. Alex felt semi-satisfied to know that they wouldn't be able to unpop their ears as the plane landed.

"Dude, why didn't we fly on that plane?" Fulton asked Portman as they exited the plane. He was indiscreetly pointing at a woman walking by whom Alex could only assume was part of the new Hooters Air line. She was wearing the trademark Hooters Girl uniform.

"Because my father doesn't contribute to the perversion of minors." Alex said smacking both of them in the stomach. "We just need to get our bags and find Dad."

"Sport!" Alex heard her Dad's voice ring out amongst the insanity that was baggage claim. She spied her duffel and grabbed it, trailing it behind her as she ran to her father. Portman and Fulton lost sight of her in the rush of people, but found the two near one of the exit doors, Alex smiling broadly as she talked to her father.

"You guys hungry?" Mr. Portman asked as Fulton and Portman approached. "We can go grab some lunch. Hi, Fulton, good to see you again."

"Hey, Dad." Portman greeted his father semi-rigidly and Alex frowned slightly. She was hoping that this trip would not be tainted by Dean's inability to relate to their father. Portman caught the look Alex shot at him and forced a smile. "I'm starvin' where we eatin'?"

"Hard Rock Café." Alex answered, already making her way to the door. "Let's go, we're barely here for four days! There's too much to do to sit in an airport and exchange niceties."

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"Um, where should I put my stuff?" Fulton asked as they entered the house where Alex and Dean had grown up.

"Jager!" Alex shouted and a large chocolate dog came running. Laughing, she fell backwards as the dog tried to jump up into her arms. "Stupid mutt, you're too big to do that now." The dog licked her face and she scratched its ears.

"You can stay anywhere you like." Mr. Portman told him. "There's a couple of guest rooms upstairs or there's always Dean's room."

"You have a dog named after booze?" Fulton asked Portman with a look of confusion on his face.

Portman shrugged. "My bro was going through a phase….he had a fish named Malibu. Here, dude, c'mon." he said, taking the stairs two at a time. "You can just stay in my room."

Alex managed to wrestle her way up off the floor and to a standing position. She surveyed the house closely. Unwashed dishes cluttered the sink. The Christmas tree stood in the corner, still decorated and still thriving almost a month after the holiday. Her father's paperwork and briefcase were thrown haphazardly on the breakfast bar. It was not the neat house Alex had grown up in.

"Dad, the Christmas tree's still up." Alex said disapprovingly.

Her father busied himself making room in the freezer for the ice cream they had picked up from Cold Stone on the way back from lunch. "I thought it added to the décor." He joked, his voice oddly muted. "Stop badgering me and go upstairs. There's a surprise in your room. Unpack and we'll go do some shopping."

"I hate surprises." Alex complained. Her dad meant well, but sometimes his intentions were misguided. After getting straight As one semester, she found a large pink rabbit stuffed animal waiting on her bed. Not able to throw it out, the rabbit sat in a corner of her room and doubled as a chair for many of her guests.

"You'll like this one." He promised, smiling at her. "Oh, and when we go out today, pick out something for Fulton. I don't want him to feel left out."

"Why doesn't Bean do that?" Alex asked, opening the fridge and grabbing the water pitcher. "He is his best friend."

"I think you might have a better idea of what to get him. Dean doesn't exactly use his head." Her father replied, tossing a glass towards Alex. "Anyways, Jon and Elizabeth are coming over for dinner tonight, so don't make any plans."

Alex made a face. "Daaaad." She whined. "Elizabeth? All she's gonna do is complain about me, like she always does. I swear to God, Mom musta brainwashed her or something. It's like she's Mom's clone."

"Alex." Mr. Portman warned, shooting his daughter a look.

Alex pouted. "Fine. I'll try to keep my mouth shut. I'm going upstairs to see what this huge surprise is."

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Thus far, Fulton's trip to Chicago with Portman and Alex had been overwhelming. After leaving the airport, Alex's father had taken the three of them out to lunch at the Hard Rock Café, which Fulton found out was Alex's favorite restaurant. The atmosphere of the place was perfect. Dimly lit, music videos from every rock-pop artist you could think of played nonstop, and random rock n' roll memorabilia adorning the walls. Skipping desert, they opted instead to go to Cold Stone, this crazy ice cream place where you picked your flavor and toppings and they mixed it together right in front of you.

Fulton was surprised to see the how big the Portman house was. From the way Alex and Portman acted, he would have guessed they lived in an apartment or small condo in a decent, but not great section of town. But judging by the fancy houses and cars parked in the driveways in their neighborhood, they were the rich kids that Portman claimed to hate.

Mr. Portman decided to surprise the twins with brand new laptop computers and a mini-shopping spree before dinner. Alex ad spied Fulton looking at a Led Zeppelin CD box set and somehow managed to sneak into the checkout line with it, along with a couple other smaller things along the way.

"Your freaking chick keeps buggin' me." Portman said with annoyance, showing Fulton the screen. Amy's screenname was in an open blinking IM.

Fulton frowned. "Don't talk to her." He said flatly. "I have no clue what I was thinkin' with that one."

"Dude, she was whiny and bitch, but seriously hot."

Fulton shrugged and looked away. "I'm gonna go see what Alex is up to."

"Why?"

"Cause it's better then sitting here and listenin' to your stupid ass tell me to give Amy another chance."

"Dude, totally wasn't sayin' that." Portman said defensively, but Fulton has already disappeared.

Alex's room was at the opposite end of the hallway from Portman's. The door was slightly ajar and there was an odd glow coming from the inside of the room. Fulton pushed open the door and silently stood in the doorway for a few minutes. The glow was caused by the fact that Alex's room was painted bright, flaming red.

Opening and closing his eyes a few times, Fulton attempted to adjust to the hue change. Portman's room was a dark navy blue, and he hadn't turned on a light (unless you counted the TV or his new laptop) yet. Alex's room had a few bright lights that reflected off the walls to cause a soft glow and candles randomly strewn throughout the room. The rest of the room, however, looked like a bomb had exploded and Alex's room was ground zero. Clothes were cluttering the floor and any other surface they could possibly hang off. Books lay haphazardly open on the bed and floor. A stack of magazine had tipped over and lay in a jumbled mess.

And in the midst of this chaos, Alex sat on the one uncluttered corner of her bed, her back towards the door as she strummed a dark purple bass. Fulton smiled slightly as he watched her head bob in time with the beat.

"You're pretty good, dude." He said, announcing his present. Alex jumped slightly and looked up. "Green Day, right?"

"You listen to Green Day?" she asked with shock permeating her tone. The amp hummed oddly from the lack of sound.

"Sometimes….um, I think your gonna damage your amp if you don't turn it down." He pointed towards the equipment. Alex looked at it blankly for a second, trying to grasp the concept, and then started playing again.

"You can come in." she said. "Just throw whatever's on my bed on the floor."

Fulton created a small pile of clutter amidst the chaos and sat. "How long you been playing?"

Alex shrugged and switched tempos, playing a slow Sublime-like jam, instead of fast punk. "I dunno, since I was little. My Dad's been playing forever, and I just kinda…got interested. This is his."

"Cool." He was fascinated by her talent. She didn't even seem to be paying that much attention to what she was doing, she seemed more interested in keeping Fulton's attention on her. There was something so alluring about her eyes; since they arrived in Chicago they seemed to sparkle brighter, making it seem as though her entire face was laughing and smiling. Alex raised her eyebrows as he looked at her, almost like she was challenging him to try something. He leaned in closer. She continued looking him straight in the eyes as she effortlessly changed songs yet again. He reached up and pushed her hair behind her ear—

"Hey, guys!" Mr. Portman interrupted, his voice carrying up the stairwell. "Dinner!"

Alex's face fell immediately. She stopped playing her bass. Her eyes clouded over once more as she turned off her amp and wordlessly sulked out of her room.

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Fulton sat awkwardly in the dinning room. There had been tension in the air during the entire meal, but suddenly it was thick enough to cut with a knife. Alex and her sister, Lizzie, were currently glaring at each other across the table. Fulton stifled a laugh as Portman and their brother Jon discretely removed their sisters' knives from the table.

"Once the family fuck up always the family fuck up, huh Lizzie?" Alex said snottily.

"Don't use that language at the table! What are they teaching you at that school?" Elizabeth hissed back.

Alex made a face and rolled her eyes. "Oooh has your pregnancy completely rearranged your vocabulary."

"I never swore with mom and dad around." Her sister said through clenched teeth.

"Yeah, you never did anything wrong. I mean, you went to Princeton and you married well and you're so fucking perfect." She yelled in reply.

"Mom and Dad never had to come to the police station to pick me up."

Jeff, the middle child, was the only one brave enough to speak. "Liz, give it a rest."

"Are you serious?" Alex laughed, throwing up her hands. " Do you not recall when I was four and Mom and Dad woke up Jeff to watch me and Dean because they had to go collect someone's drunken ass from the police station? Because I distinctly remember watching them bring you in the house from my window and then sneaking out on the staircase to see what was going on."

"My screw ups never harmed other people." Elizabeth replied pointedly. "You need to grow up for once."

"You need to stop being Mom's little minion and bringing misery to everyone else in the family to hide how miserable you actually are."

"That's enough you two." Mr. Portman said stearnly.

Elizabeth ignored her father's words. "Maybe if you'd stop acting like such a bitch, you'd actually be able to get a decent boyfriend."

Fulton opened his mouth to defend Alex, but a swift kick to the shins shut him up again. He focused instead on the food in front of him.

"What do you mean by that?"

"You know damn well what I mean. Someone who won't land you in juvenile court. That was such an embarrassment for Robert."

"Oh I'm sorry I inconvienced your husband around his big shot law buddies."

"Alexzandrea, enough." Her father reprimanded forcefully, throwing each of the girls stern looks. Alex and Elizabeth both sat back disgruntledly but neither said another word.

Alex glowered, looking like she wished her glares would send daggers into her sister's eyes, but kept silent. "May I be excused?" she asked harshly, not looking away from Lizzie.

"Go ahead." Mr. Portman said, not looking up as his daughter stalked out of the room. The three remaining family members turned and looked at Dean. He looked up, fork still in hand.

"What?" he asked in mid chew. No one said anything, but he dropped his fork and sighed. "Why do I always gotta go after her?" he complained and followed Alex up the stairs, leaving Fulton alone and wrestling with his conscience. Staying here would be awkward and possibly intrusive, but if he left without finishing his food it would be rude.

"Dad, how can you let her get this out of hand?' Elizabeth dropped her napkin on the table and turned towards her father.

"Oh, Liz, get a grip." Jon defended Alex. " You were egging on a fourteen year old."

"No, I wasn't."

"You've always been good at pushing buttons and you know it."

"Can we just stop arguing?" Mr. Portman said with a sigh. "It's very rare that I have more then two of my children at the dinner table and you just ruined that for me. Thank you."

"Dad, she's obviously still sick. Isn't she supposed to be in therapy to control this type of thing?"

"She's been seeing the school therapist, Elizabeth."

"You couldn't just leave her alone? You know, I haven't seen the twins in what…a year or two?" Jon mumbled, throwing a look at Elizabeth.

Liz ignored the comment and pressed on. "Maybe you should have used that money you wasted on her new laptop and gotten her a decent psychiatrist."

Realizing that the argument was heating up, Fulton left the table as quickly as he could without making it obvious.

"Elizabeth, I would appreciate it if you would not tell me how to raise my child." Fulton heard Mr. Portman's voice drift up the stairwell. He was obviously close to yelling at this point.

"Well, maybe I wouldn't interfere if you were doing what's best for her."

"Liz, you love to interfere with everyone's lives." Jon told her. "You always have."

Fulton paused when he heard Mr. Portman push out his chair to leave the table. "Elizabeth, in two months you're going to have a child, and when you do, you'll be able to decide what best for him. Eventually, you'll realize that you know what's best for your own children, no matter what any outsiders say. You are not Alex's mother, so don't act like you are. Excuse me."

Alex and Portman's voices carried down the hall from her room, and Portman found them both on her bed talking. Alex was sitting propped against the wall, her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them while Portman absentmindedly threw a basketball up and caught it. Fulton wasn't sure if her face was so red because she was angry or because she had been crying. Like the past twenty minutes, he felt extremely out of place and wondered how the hell people filmed all these reality shows. Being an outsider during family arguments was excruciatingly uncomfortable.

"Al, you've never gotten along with Lizzie." Portman told her. "No one has ever gotten along with Lizzie. Don't worry about it."

Alex sniffed and nodded. "I love how Dad just sits there and says nothing, at least Jon kinda stuck up for me."

"They were both stickin' up for you a few minutes ago." Fulton said quietly from the door, his hands in his pockets.

"Um, sorry about that dude." Portman apologized to him.

Alex managed a small family. 'The Portman family, putting the fun back into dysfunctional."

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