A/N: Hey everyone! I apologize immensely for the long wait on this chapter. I didn't expect it to take this long, but between work and school I've been pretty bogged down. Thank goodness for the summer! As the semester is winding down I'm finding more time to write, so hopefully you can look forward to more stuff from me in the future! ^_^ In the meantime enjoy ch.3. I hope it doesn't disappoint, and don't worry, I'm building up to the action sequences. Also, a big thanks to sailormoonshadow for all her help, and to all the reviewers! You guys inspire me! ^_~
Rating: G, it's fair to say this is a really mild chapter. Nothing compared to what I have in store. *evil cackle*
Disclaimer: Isn't it obvious, I don't own Digimon. And really, would you want me to? Look what I've done to their wonderful characters. LOL! =)
Off in the distance, unbeknownst to either of them two dark eyes watched the brothers interact in silence. Once their conversation was complete a small smile spread across his face and he quickly darted out from behind a grove of trees, following the eldest of the two cautiously.
Matt dragged himself along in the direction of the high school. A small breeze had kicked up, engulfing his body in an odd, yet comforting warmth. It was summer after all, but faint gusts of wind were uncommon at that time of year. The blond merely shrugged at the phenomena and continued on his way, his mind clouding over with thoughts of dark shadows chasing his brother through even darker alleyways. He defiantly shoved his hands in his pockets and shook his head at the thoughts.
All the while, his follower had been gaining ground on him. However, he hadn't wanted his presence to be known just yet, and kept a safe distance behind the teenager.
As Matt drew closer to the school he paused for a moment and tilted his head at an angle, as a dog would do when it heard a mysterious noise. The figure behind him lunged into a cluster of bushes, practically giving his position away as the thorn covered foliage scratched and ripped at his clothing and skin, causing a small yelp to escape the back of his throat.
The blond knelt down near the edge of the chain link fence that encircled the schoolyard and slowly grasped a rather large stick lying in the dirt. He rose and nonchalantly swung the stick back and forth in front of him in a swatting motion. To his pursuer it almost appeared as though he were fending off a hoard of swordsmen, or hacking through an imaginary jungle brandishing a machete, but then again, he was always known for his wild imagination. Once the threat of being discovered vanished, the figure stepped out of the bushes and continued to follow the boy.
By the time they had reached the entrance, he was thoroughly mesmerized by the stick that continued to swing from right to left and back again, until finally it flew back towards him in one mighty throw. Caught off guard, the figure tried to duck, but was too late as the projectile smacked him in the side of his cranium. Letting out a disgruntled cry, he dropped to his knees, clutching his sore head.
Matt smirked and whirled around, coming face to face with his best friend.
"You know Tai, you ought to be a little more quiet while sneaking around and following people." He stated, resting his hands on his hips proudly.
"Ow!! Hey man, that hurt!" The brunette whined, glaring up at the blond. "Besides, I thought I was doing a pretty good job until you hit me with that stick!" he retorted.
"Oh come on! I knew you were there from the time I left T.K.'s school." Matt grinned and reached down to help Tai up.
Tai took his hand somewhat gratefully and pulled himself into a standing position, still rubbing the sore spot.
"Sorry. I guess that wasn't the best thing to do, but you could have been someone else." Matt lowered his head in apology. His entire body shuddered involuntarily and he inhaled sharply gazing back up at Tai, hoping the boy hadn't noticed it.
Knowing Matt was still getting over his 'Murphy' issues, Tai pretended as though he hadn't witnessed a thing, and continued to concentrate on the pain in his head that was slowly fading. He was about to ask 'Who?' to Matt's suggestion of 'somebody else' but decided not to. Lightly tapping the area that had been hit, he winced, giving Matt enough time to recompose himself, before his chocolate brown eyes darted up just in time to see the blond sigh in relief.
"So I was concerned, that's no reason to try and kill me with a tree branch." Tai chuckled.
"You know that was far from being a tree branch!" Matt shot back in mock seriousness, before the two burst into light laughter.
Tai rolled his eyes, "Come on buddy, let's get back to school before we're late for another class."
Matt nodded and led the way, though his mind still ran rampant with thoughts of T.K.'s stalker. As always, he pushed the feeling of dread back down and covered it with his usual daily façade.
"Hey Tai," he stopped suddenly causing the brunette to barrel into him, nearly knocking them both down.
Tai blinked and stepped back trying to regain his balance. "Yeah?" he asked placing a hand on Matt's shoulder for support as his legs were still a bit wobbly.
"Uh…" he stuttered, he was never good at expressing his emotions, a side of him that remained stubborn to change. "Thanks…for, um…being concerned." Matt kicked at the ground nervously, hoping Tai wouldn't go all mushy on him.
"No prob." The other boy smiled, "What are friends for." Tai gave him the biggest, dopiest grin he could manage, causing the blonde to chuckle slightly.
"Tai, you're such a goof." He smiled in return, and they continued on their way. Tai seemed a tad daft at times, but Matt knew he could always depend on him. He was actually more intuitive than he let the world know. Even if they did share their difference of opinion every now and again, Matt could see this attribute as clear as glass.
I should have let Matt walk me home; I should have let him stay. T.K. thought as he wandered down the main corridor of the school. Kari would be getting out of her test soon and she told him to wait outside the classroom for her.
I'm such a burden to everyone, he sighed. Yet he still wished his brother were there. Ever since the incident with Murphy he had wanted to stay close to his older sibling. Being in a band, Matt was constantly in the public eye, and if that crazed lunatic were still out there…he mused, immediately dismissing the idea. Only Matt believed he still existed. T.K. had to be the strong one in that respect, even if he were breaking down emotionally, he had to force himself to believe that Murphy was dead.
Matt had done his part. He was strong for T.K., when the boy couldn't be strong for himself. Takeru could not even begin to count all the numerous times Matt had sacrificed sleep or his personal time to come to his aid. And the elder boy was still plagued with the idea that somewhere out there, the scar-faced man lurked in the shadows ready to strike. The least he could do was try to assure Matt that Murphy was gone forever, but now he wasn't quite so sure he believed it himself.
A coughing fit caught him in mid-thought and he leaned with his back against the wall, easily sliding down it until he rested on the floor with his knees brought up to his chest. The painkillers he had taken earlier appeared to be wearing off and he silently cursed the cheap drugs.
T.K. discovered early on that whenever he was sick, he was either very apathetic or very irritable. At the moment, he was feeling the latter.
"What's taking her so long?" he wondered aloud, his fingers twitching impatiently, dreading at any moment that he might lose control of his body. It was a frightening experience, which he had become accustomed to in the past few months, as each time drew him closer and closer to an actual panic attack. That was something he did not want, and fought it persistently.
Kari finally emerged from the classroom, her smile shining brightly. She must have aced her test, T.K. thought. He gazed up at her with hollow blue orbs; she hadn't even noticed him yet. Deep within himself, he felt the butterflies rise in his stomach. It was usually a warm, tingly feeling, and Kari's smile or her sweet laughter was always the cause. Presently, the butterflies were not welcome as they only served to make him feel worse on the inside. A mixture of confused feelings and nausea swept over him and a slight whimper escaped his lips.
"Oh T.K.!" Kari chirped, "I'm sorry…I didn't notice you there. Have you been waiting long?" She said all in one breath. Her brown eyes met his and she couldn't help but feel sorry for him, he looked so pitiful sitting there by himself, a pale shadow cast over him by the only source of light that originated from the set of double doors at the end of the hall.
"I'm okay now." T.K. said barely above a whisper. Kari watched his eyes intently, they looked as though he was about to cry, but T.K. quickly blinked back the premature tears.
"Come on." She said, extending her hand to him. T.K. grasped it firmly, and was slightly embarrassed when Kari had to use most of her strength to pull him to his feet. He hadn't thought he was that weak on account of his ailment.
"Let's go." This time she forced a smile to surface, even though her voice betrayed her. It was shaky and awkward, much like the way T.K. was walking. She placed a hand on his back to steady him. His muscles tightened at the touch, but soon slowly contracted and relaxed as he got used to the feeling of her hand on his backside.
"Once we get you home, I'll make you some soup. You haven't eaten all day, have you?" she queried, knowing all too well he hadn't.
T.K. nodded and allowed himself to be led out the set of double doors.
"Wait!" Kari cried out, "I forgot something, I'll be right back." She assured, leaving T.K. by himself, as she dashed back into the building. True to her word, Kari was back outside again within seconds.
"I forgot my palmtop." She grinned sheepishly, holding the device up for him to see. "I'm going to say hi to our digimon later. I'm sure you'd love to talk to Patamon for a few minutes too."
Patamon? T.K. hadn't even thought of the small bat-like creature for a week or so. He had been too busy trying to tame his emotions all that week.
"Yeah, it'll be nice to talk to Patamon. And maybe I can say hi to the other digimon as well. I'm sure Gabumon would like to know how Matt is doing, I don't think my brother has really had time to talk to him in ages." As T.K. pondered this, he was also wondering if Matt had told Gabumon about their encounter with Murphy. He hadn't told Patamon for obvious reasons; one being he hadn't wanted the little guy to worry about him, and another reason was because he knew he would probably beat himself up about it for not being there when T.K. needed him most.
In fact they had made all the Chosen Children take an oath to not say anything to their digimon until they felt the time was right. T.K. didn't know when or if the time would ever be appropriate.
"T.K.?" Kari's voice broke through his thoughts.
"Huh? Oh, yes Kari?" he mumbled almost incoherently.
"Whatcha thinkin' about?" the question was so honest and sincere, and of course full of concern, but T.K. hadn't wanted to answer it. He wanted to lie to her and say nothing, but he just couldn't bring himself to lie to Kari.
"I was thinking about Patamon…and well…whether I should tell him or not." The blonde finally summoned the courage to admit this to the girl.
"Tell him what?" Kari inquired, assuming he was referring to Murphy. However, she avoided the mention of it, for fear he was talking about something completely different. She hadn't wished to invoke old memories that would cause the boy any more turmoil than he was already experiencing.
"About…what happened with Matt and me." he choked.
"I know he'd understand." Kari rubbed his back gently.
"I know he would…but I don't know if he would be upset with me for not telling him right away." T.K. squeezed his eyes shut, letting Kari lead him blindly down the sidewalk. So many conflicting emotions, why couldn't he get over that incident and move on with his life?
"T.K. I'm sure if you explained it to him he wouldn't be mad at you. Of course he's going to be a little upset, he's your digimon after all. Besides you're safe now." The girl spoke gently.
The blonde gritted his teeth at her last statement. He wished he could believe her, but his instincts would not allow it. Maybe Matt had been right along.
Had the two teenagers been paying closer attention to their surroundings, they would have noticed the large gray car slowly rolling up behind them. A pair of dark eyes watched them intently, but this time, these were not Taichi's.
Malcolm Ishida quickly glanced down at his wristwatch. It was a quarter to noon and he desperately wanted to finish his shoot before lunch.
"Almost ready?" he called to his cameraman, who was fumbling with his equipment.
"Just about," the young man answered, adjusting the camera lens, as he peered through the eyepiece.
Malcolm gazed up at the tall structure before him. A large, gray building lined with barbed wire fences, four watch towers, and hundreds of tiny, barred windows, all vacant. This coming weekend, it would be no longer.
The older man reached into the pocket of his slacks and fingered the small box of cigarettes contained therein. The longer they stood outside the condemned Odaiba Maximum Security Prison, the more anxious he got. He was glad the city had finally decided to do away with the old prison as it had been sometime since all the prisoners were relocated to a penitentiary farther north.
Matt and T.K. hadn't been the only ones affected by the incident with Murphy, and now Malcolm stood just outside of the place where the scar-faced man had been held while serving his sentence. Malcolm remembered it all too well, as sudden flashbacks of the incident entered his mind. Three prominent images tormented him night and day. Matt, T.K., and Murphy's knife always intertwined with one another. He would never have a dream where it was just Matt or just T.K., no the knife would always manifest itself. Malcolm couldn't rip these pictures from his mind.
Just like his eldest son, he too had been concerned with the detail that Murphy could very well still be alive. As a news reporter he had been trained to go by the facts, and the fact of the matter was, Murphy's body was never found among the remains of the crash. This gave Malcolm all the suspicion he needed to conclude that the possibility of the gangster's return was not to be ruled out just yet.
Finally giving in to his addiction, Malcolm slipped his fingers inside the packet of cigarettes and pulled one of the cylindrical objects out. From his other pocket he produced a lighter, and as he gazed at the police tape blocking off the perimeter, he lit up.
Taking in a long, slow drag he closed his eyes. Soon the prison would be one memory he would no longer have to deal with. The demolitions crew had already rigged the explosives for the upcoming implosion, and it would only be a matter of days before it was wiped clean from the earth.
One might ask why Murphy would be sent to a maximum-security prison, when he was convicted of money laundering. Both Malcolm and Nancy knew the truth, but hadn't wished to enlighten their sons with it. Murphy had done far more despicable deeds than he was proven guilty of. He had been accused of several murders, nearly fifty acts of arson, as well as a number of robberies and kidnappings. The only problem was the lack of evidence that would connect him with these crimes. Throughout the years he had been very thorough in covering his tracks, that is, until Malcolm decided to cooperate with the police to finally nail him. That was probably what aggravated the convict the most, Malcolm surmised. After all those years of evading the police, a young hotshot reporter, fresh out of college, had brought him down. Not to mention a rookie journalist.
At the thought of Nancy, the man wondered whether she had the same worries and fears he now possessed. Every night upon returning home, he made sure to verify that his son was in his room. He would also check on the boy more frequently via cell phone, especially after any concerts. T.K. was a different matter entirely. Because the family no longer lived under one roof he could not keep a close eye on his youngest son, but he was aware that the boy constantly kept in touch with Matt, so he had less to worry about there.
Still, he was gravely concerned for the well being of both his sons, as they had not been themselves since the kidnapping. Neither really went out much, except when there was school, or Matt had rehearsal with his band. In fact the only time he would go out was if he had a group of friends with him. The same went for T.K. It was a struggle for them both, and Malcolm had been amazed with the strong bond they held between them. He was aware that the event had been traumatizing to them, and despite their mother's constant efforts, both refused to see a psychiatrist, as they depended on one another for guidance and support. In a way, Malcolm felt guilty that they had not come to him or Nancy for support, but then he figured that the divorce might have had something to do with their decision. He knew it had been selfish on their part to separate the two, so they probably did not hold much faith in him or Nancy as far as the matter went.
His life had been filled with many regrettable decisions, but he could not pine over them now. His family was once again safe, and he had to take some comfort in that. The healing process was slow, as it was for all the Ishida/Takaishi family, but it was progressing nonetheless.
"Alright sir, we're ready to roll!" the cameraman announced, breaking Malcolm from his thoughts.
"Okay," the older man answered, stubbing out his cigarette on the white sign attached to the chain link fence that read 'condemned'. "Let's get this wrapped up." Malcolm said, adjusting his tie, as he pulled his microphone from where it had been resting in his back pocket
It had only taken them a few tries before they managed a perfect take, and Malcolm was satisfied. The first shot, Malcolm had realized the lens cap was still in place, and in the second, he dropped his microphone. By the third shot, the cameraman had to inform the reporter that the news wasn't all he was revealing to the world, earning a slight blush from the elder man as he zipped the fly up on his pants. The fourth and final shot was the best, without any mishaps. The two congratulated each other as they began to load the equipment back into the van.
As everything had been packed away, Malcolm went to shut the vehicle door, when a soft noise caught his attention. Turning his head, he carefully scanned the area. He was sure he had heard something, and nearly leapt back in surprise when his eyes fell upon the source of the faint laughter standing only a few feet away.
"Hello Malcolm." The young woman greeted, her hand covering her mouth, as she poorly tried to hide a smirk.
"Nancy?" the reporter blinked, feeling inclined to rub his eyes, as he was sure this was some sort of hallucination.
"I was watching you cover the story." She muttered. "My editor sent me to take some pictures, but I didn't know I'd find you here."
"I thought you were working in the archives now, you know researching past articles related to police investigations. Since when are you a photographer?" Malcolm asked casually, wondering exactly how long she had been standing there. From the looks of it, he considered just long enough to catch his fly fiasco.
"Well, my boss decided I needed some fresh air, so he sent me out on assignment. Luckily, I only have to get some pictures of the old place before they demolish it." she said, averting her eyes to the foreboding structure.
"I see." Malcolm nodded, as he turned on his heel to leave. He felt very awkward at the moment, having seen his ex-wife for the first time in weeks. They had talked very little since the incident, which greatly surprised the reporter. He thought that it had brought them closer together, but as soon as things were slightly back to normal, everything that had happened between them during those days and nights of worry had disappeared.
"Malcolm wait…" Nancy said, her voice sounding very small and helpless at that moment.
The brunette slowly turned his head, catching Nancy's beautiful blue eyes in his own. She looked so desperate, as her eyes seemed to shimmer with what appeared to be tears, but Malcolm couldn't be altogether sure, nor did he wish to make assumptions.
"Yes?" he asked in a quiet voice, scratching the back of his head nervously.
"I thought…well…since you're here…"she stuttered through the words, it was apparent she was about to ask him something, but couldn't seem to spit it out. "Would you mind if we had lunch together?" she finally asked timidly.
Malcolm glanced over to his cameraman who nodded his head in approval. "I'll turn this in to the station, no worries, it'll look great!" the younger man smiled, as he hopped into the driver's side of the van.
"I'd like that." Malcolm said turning his full attention back to the woman, as the sound of the van's motor turning over caused a silence to fall between the two.
Nancy tried to hide her relieved smile, but was unsuccessful. Malcolm noted this, realizing that there was more to her simple invitation than just lunch. He would soon find out what her true intentions were. Part of him figured a long drawn out discussion was in store, while the other part was thankful for her company. At least now he'd have someone to confide his deepest fears to.
AYE! No cliffhanger here! Well I don't think so anyway. Aren't you sad? LOL! R+R por favor. ^_^