Crash!

Another roll of thunder drummed through Yorktown Primary School. Screams flooded the corridors, and sobbing could be distantly heard. In the classroom of KGW, the screams were largely muffled. This, though, had less to do with bravery and much more to do with the unspoken of but unanimous quest for the spot as Mr Washington's favourite student.

The storm had seemed to have come from nowhere. It had been almost perfectly clear in the morning, and there had been nothing in the weather reports. And then, at about midday, it had hit.

This wasn't a small shower accompanied by some thunder. This wasn't a slight wind accompanied by rain. This was the real deal: thunder, lightning, icy rain bordering on hail and wind that threatened to uproot the strongest of trees.

The call to have students picked up if possible had been sent out, but the storm had since picked up even further and it was doubtful that any parent, no matter how devoted, would brave it to pick up their child. And even if they did, it was debatable whether they would make it. Alive, that is.

This, perhaps, wouldn't have been quite such a devastating situation for Class KGW if their classroom had been connected to the main building rather than a stand alone, shed like structure. And if the power had been on. And if they weren't teacherless, Mr Washington being trapped with Lafayette in the sports gear shed...

A situation like this needs some explanation. Let's go back to the beginning, shall we?


"This is getting dangerous..." George commented, staring out the window and into the dark.

"WHAT!" Alex yelled at the top of his lungs, trying to be heard over the deafening howling of the wind.

George rolled his eyes. "I wasn't talking to you!" He returned, not yelling (that would be unprofessional) but raising his voice significantly. From the confusion on his classes face, he hadn't raised it enough. He took a breath to repeat himself, but don't against it and dismissed it with a wave.

Getting back to his thought process, he once again surveyed the storm. It was dark, so dark that the main building (where the grades above were kept), barely 150 meters away, could only be seen by the yellow lights that managed to escape from the gaps in the window blinds. Other than that, and the slight outline of a nearby tree in front of said lights, nothing could be seen.

He doubted any communication would be coming any time soon. A quick check had shown that there was no mobile connection (which left him itching to call Martha) and it was highly doubtful that anyone would risk the walk. So they were stuck. Well, he thought to himself as he turned back to the class and did a mental headcount, at least they were stuck together-

Oh no. Oh no oh no ohnononono. He did another headcount, slower this time, only to reach the same devastating conclusion.

They were missing someone.

He went through the students, checking them off one by one. Thomas had left during the early stages of the storm, so he was gone. Peggy was there (thanks goodness, they were at least safer here than at the small preschool) along with Eliza, Aaron, James, Hercules, John, Alex and-

it was Lafayette. Lafayette was missing.

George cursed, aloud as no one could hear him, and waved his arms at the class to grab their attention. After brief thought, he picked up a piece of chalk and moved to the blackboard. Writing would be much easier than speaking at this point.

Where is Laf? He scrawled.

Eliza, Peggy, James and Aaron all shrugged, and looked around the classroom as if the answer lay there. Meanwhile, there was some suspicious fidgeting coming from John, Hercules and Alex. George set upon them the look Martha liked to refer to as his Dad Look. Unsurprisingly, it was the big hearted Hercules who broke first.

After some unsuccessful attempts at speaking, the boy made his way to the black board and, in an almost illegible scrawl, wrote: Sport shed

George cursed again. Why?

Sciping

George blinked. They were in kindergarten, they didn't skip! It was ludicrous...how had George not noticed before! Of course, the answer to that was obvious, he had been pretty caught up with the storm and worrying about Martha. And as for the former, Hercules answered it by writing: saw it on tv last nite

Of course. Lafayette would do almost anything to feel like an American, and if he had seen it on American tv he must have believed it was a normal thing to do. George cursed again (in his defense, the situation called for it).

The sports shed wasn't safe. It was, simply put, a shed. A shed made from pieces of metal. He couldn't just leave Laf there, assuming he was even still there-no. No bad thoughts. Laf was fine. But maybe not for long...

The decision was made in a split second. The storm was bad, and George had a feeling it would get worse before it got better. He didn't have long, but if he hurried he was sure he could get to the sports shed and back before things got really bad. And, as mischievous as they could be, these were good kids. He could trust them, he felt, in an emergency. And this was most definitely an emergency.

Mind made up, he wrote a quick but firm message to the class on the board, pulled his coat tight around himself and went out to brave the storm...


Alex felt his smile widen when he saw what Mr Washington had written on the board.

Going to get him. 5 minutes. Alex in charge listen to him do not go outside do not move

Aw yes. He sat a little straighter, imagining the rest of the class gazing at him, Mr Washington's favourite-no, Mr Washington's student-no! Mr Washington's right hand man! He basked in the glow of the classes admiration, sitting a straight as he could and tilting his head proudly, like they did in the books Aaron read.

Next to him, John looked at his friend, concern written on his face. "Are you ok?" He commented (into his hear so he could be heard), "you look funny."

Alex deflated.

Well, at least Mr Washington still trusted him.


George's mind raced a million miles an hour as he struggled through the wind, but one thought was more prominent than the rest.

I should have put Eliza in charge.


Yep, Alex grinned, Mr Washington must be so sound of mind, knowing he had such a capable leader running the class in his absence.

He pushed himself to his feet and planted himself in front of the small class. "THERE ARE GONNA BE SOME CHANGES ADOUND HERE NOW I'M IN CHARGE!" He yelled as loudly as he could.

Aaron squinted at him. "WHAT?"

Alex shook his head, the the wind was too loud and he hadn't heard what Aaron had said. "WHAT DID YOU SAY?"

"WE CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Eliza yelled back.

"WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!" Alex returned, confused.

Hercules scratched his head. "WHAT'S HAPPENING!"

"JUST WRITE IT, LIKE MR WASHINGON DID!"

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU AARON, SPEAK UP!"

"THIS IS GETTING US NOWHERE!"

"AND PEGGY, WERK!"

"WHAT?"


George, meanwhile, was having a hard time getting where he needed to go. He was, luckily, walking down wind, but it was still pushing him behind, making him stumble. The fact that he was walking blind, save a dim light from a small key-chain torch, didn't help matter. Neither did the large, icy raindrops that pounded down on him heavily.

The small walk to the shed, 300 meters at most, took what seemed like hours, though it couldn't have been. In fact, according to his digital watch, it had taken only 20 minutes. That was still a far cry from the 5 it would have normally taken, though, especially with the large and frantic strides George was taking.

He eventually arrived though, and closed the door behind him with a slam and a sigh of relief. Wringing out his jacket, he was soaked to the skin, he surveyed his surroundings.

The shed offered more protection than he had imagined. It kept the wind and rain out, though there were many leaks and every gust swayed the walls dangerously. It was dark, as it would usually be lit by the many entrances rather than artificial lighting, and a sweep of his torch revealed that very little seemed out of place, save for a small figure cowering under the nets of the soccer goals.

"Laf?" He called in a manner that would probably have been gentle if it hadn't been for the volume it needed, and the figure jolted. It wiped at its face furiously, sat up straighter, and called something out that was, unfortunately, ineligible. George came nearer, and crouched by the small boy, close enough that that could make out each others words.

"Mr Washington," Lafayette, smiling weakly, "vat a surprise. Why are you ere?

In his fear, the child's French accent had thickened considerably, and George had to take a moment to deceiver his words.

"I'm here to get you." He responded.

Lafayette smiled, genuinely this time. "Ah, you caught on to moi! I am now in trouble for my skipping, oui. Just like in the movies?"

George went to respond, but was interrupted by a particularly vicious crash of thunder. George and Lafayette both flinched. "We have to get back to the classroom before it gets worse." George stressed. Lafayette nodded and the two made to leave.

But the door wouldn't open.


Back in the classroom, things were going surprisingly well. After Eliza sorted out the shouting match the children all went their separate ways, and began to play with the toys to create a semblance of normalcy.

It wasn't working.

With the tense atmosphere, John almost didn't know where to begin. Did he go to comfort Peggy and Hercules, squished together in the corner? Did he comfort Burr, huddled in a beanie bag miserably? Or James, curled in his blanket near the window.

See, John had a secret. A terrible, horrible, no good secret. A thing that no one could ever, ever know.

He was a softie.

Sure, he acted all dark and mysterious, he knew that. He knew how cool it was, and how everyone was in awe of him because of it. But he also had this thing, this disgusting, primal thing inside that just wanted everyone to be happy. That shed a tear(s) at Phillip and Theodosia's wedding, and at Phillip's funeral.

And now, to his dismay, he felt it coming into effect.

And so he gazed around the classroom at the miserable figures of his classmates, and considered who needed the most help (storms had never bothered him, his father made sure of that).

Finally, his eyes settled on Alex.

His friend wasn't scared of the storm, that was for sure. He wasn't huddled up, he wasn't fidgeting or shaking. In fact, he looked completely calm. Just...forlorn. Depressed.

John knew that his best friend would have to take priority, so he set off towards, determined.

Of course, owing to his short, five year old legs, the trip would take longer than expected...


Just as John had noticed, in the corner there was huddled Peggy and Hercules. Though, what John hadn't known was that this wasn't because of fear and comfort. They were spies, for goodness sake, they didn't get scared, especially not of storms. If you saw them flinch at every thunder clap...you were probably imagining it. Definitely.

They were, in fact, discussing something. Something very important. Something that had to do with John himself...

It had been two days since the Shelby and George Prince incident. Two long days. John hadn't yet noticed because, to both spies' horror and guilt, he had decided he trusted the two to take Shelby home and look after her there. Peggy and Hercules had both come out of that conversation in tears, Hercules more so than Peggy, and John had come out very confused, but confident in his friends.

But, the two spies knew they would have to come clean, and soon. They just...didn't know how. Which is what they were discussing: very logical, very honest ways to come forward.

"We have to leave the country, Pegs."

"Yup."

There was a brief silence.

"We can't leave the country, Pegs."

"...yup."

Hercules groaned and covered his eyes in frustration. "I just feel so bad! Poor Shelby..."

"What?" A new voice broke in, and the pair turned in unison to see a very concerned Eliza. The sounds of the storm must have concealed her steps...maybe, the two hoped, it had also concealed their words.

Those hopes were diminished when Eliza scrunched up her nose. "What have you done with Shelby?"


Also as John had noticed, Aaron was curled tightly upon himself on a beanbag. He was cursing himself and his stupidity. His grandmother had warned him that morning to bring a jumper, but Aaron had been arguing with her and, in an act of defiance, left it behind. And now he was freezing.

He wrapped his arms around himself as tightly as he could, murmuring to himself using all the bad words he had ever read. So absorbed was he in his sufferings that he didn't notice the small voice, he didn't notice the light tapping on his arm, he didn't even notice the shifting of the beanbag as the weight of someone else climbed onto it. He did, however, notice when a well worn but warm blanket was settled over him.

He jerked up, looking for the culprit, but he knew who it was even before he caught sight of their small face. The blanket was the one that James always had wrapped around him, like a permanent feature.

Aaron looked at the smaller boy, enquiring. The two didn't know each other well. Sure, they sat at the same four seater table, but that was just because it was either that or with the girls.

At his look, James shrugged. "You looked cold. And I have lots of jumpers anyway." It was true, the amount of jumpers James was covered in almost doubled his size.

Aaron smiled, grateful. "Thanks."

James slid off the beanbag and onto the floor, leaning against it. "Is it ok if I stay here? Thomas is the only friend I have, and his gone, but I don't want to be alone. I don't like storms."

He was frank. Strange, that was never a trait Aaron had associated with him. He was always in Thomas' shadow, he had no time to develop a personality. And...and maybe, Aaron admitted to himself, he hadn't been given much of a chance. That would have to change. He nodded. "Sure."

"Thanks."

A comfortable silence descended.

.

.

.

"Well, at least it can't get worse."

And then the power went out.

Shrieks and gasps filled the room. Aaron winced.

"Well," he began hesitantly, "now it can't-"

"No!" James interrupted him vehemently.

"What-?"

"You jinxed it!"

Burr rolled his eyes and groaned. "Come on, you don't really believe in that sorta stuff. I thought you were smart..."

"No I'm not-"

"Don't deny it." Aaron broke in, matter of a fact-ly, "I hear you whispering the answers whenever Mr Washington asks a question."

James was silent.

"I never thought I'd say it, but you should be louder. If you know the answer, say it...ugh I sound like Alex. Don't tell him I said that."

Neither of them spoke for a few seconds. Finally, James said something, but it was quiet and Aaron couldn't hear it.

"What?"

"Hnnrgybeug."

"I can't hear you, James."

James took a deep breath. "...say it. I'm...smart. Say that it can't get worse."

Aaron smiled brightly. "Well done, James! Well, at least it can't get worse!"

And then the tree crashed through the roof.


Yay. That took me forever. The last bit was a tiny bit rushed, but I feel like it more will just make it worse. I decided to try something a bit different, putting multiple stories into one situation, but it appears I bit off more than I could chew, so part two will be out next week! And after that, a few short Orphan Verse stories, then Peggy and John Centric. Whoo!

This chapter wasn't quite as Alex and John centric as I hoped, but that's because it's a bit of a lead up chapter. They will end up being the main focus of this arc, I promise.

Finally, before I get to the reviews, I've started (on my profile page) a list of when my stories are to be next next updated, as well as a summary of the upcoming chapter. Hamiltots is at the very top of that list, if you want to check it out :)

And onto the best part! Thank you to the two guests who I am not directly addressing here, your support is so helpful.

Guest

Thanks! And as for Theodosia, my current plan is that she is a family friend of Aaron's who lives in England. I like the transferring idea though...ugh there are so many possibilities with her.

Candymouse22

I'm so glad that you found it funny! I can completely picture 43 happening, honestly haha. As for scissors...you don't want to know. Really though, I think it started with just kids being kids with sharp things, and then because George banned scissors they became stubborn. And so things escalated. Thanks for reviewing!

Hetalian

Hello again! Thank you, and i'm glad you enjoyed it! Whoo, NAPLAN is finished! That was my last one, but you'll have to do it again in two years. I send my best regards to you in that dark time. Thanks for wishing me luck, it went pretty I well! I hope yours did too. And I really hope you got back to studying after reading haha. Thanks!

A Fellow Author

I'm glad you were satisfied (sorry that's really over done). Yes, you should go to sleep before midnight haha! Thank you so much, and of course I respond to your reviews, there's no need to thank me there.

My favourite song... it changes every other day. At the moment it's probably Wait For It, purely because of Szin's animatic. My first favourite song (which I feel says a lot about someone) was Farmer Refuted. It's so cleverly done. How about you, what's your favourite (current and first)?