AN: hello. Boy, that's a crummy way to start an author's note, eh?
Anyways, this is my first KND fic (*does jig*), and my first semi-serious
one at that...so go easy on me. I'm not much romance writer, either, so
don't expect a mush-fest...which brings me to another note- this is one of
those rare 54 shipper fics (yeah, I'm weird like that). It starts out
kinda 34ish, but don't be deterred, my friends!...I'm making this as
original as I can...uuuh...that's about all I have to say about that...
Disclaimer: don't own anything. End of story.
*************
"Beatles!" a voice boomed, and there was the creak of a large door opening, "you got mail" the voice paused as a letter was thrown to the resident, and left with "and cheer up, for God's sake, it's your last full day in Juvenile Hall." The guard closed the white metal door with a clank, leaving Wally alone again, who had scarcely moved from his cot, but was fingering the letter in his hands; it was from his parents, who, by the way, hadn't talked to him in person since the day he was put in there, three years ago. He gave a frustrated moan and tore open the letter, and started to read:
Dear Wallabee,
First of all, your father and I are thrilled you're finally coming home, we've missed you more than you know (Wally scoffed).
But just because we're happy for your return doesn't mean we aren't still displeased with your behavior. Though you've no doubt learned the error of your ways ("Yeah, right"), we think the source of all this anger your anger you seem to have is through lack of self-control. That's why we enrolled you in a Children's Correctional Camp (CCC, for short). It's a place where kids just like you can learn to control themselves, and get professional help; we sent you a brochure so you can learn more a bout it. Think of it as a summer camp for "troubled teens". You start there in a week.
Well, that's all we really had to say. Remember, we love you, and we can't wait to see you again.
With love,
Mom and Dad
Wally sat staring at the letter in shock for some time, and then his annoyance began to kick in. "Correctional camp?" he cried, not caring that he was the only one inside the cell to hear, "I thought this place was supposed to 'correct' me. They can't wait to see me, and yet they send me to a stupid CAMP!!" At this point he jumped up, ran across the room, and pounded his fist on a part of the wall that had previously been chipped from his "fits". "Cruddy...parents...messing...with life...suffered enough...already..." he said in between blows to the concrete.
After a period of senseless punching, he turned back to his bed, where the brochure was sitting. He mumbled various incoherent things as he snatched the pamphlet and scanned the contents.
"'The Children's Correctional Camp is a place where young teens can learn control themselves, making friends along the way'-yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before," he read aloud to himself, "'The facility is divided into three parts: anger management, substance abuse rehabilitation, and trauma counseling.' Oh, well, that's just lovely, except for the anger management, substance abuse rehabilitation, and trauma counseling parts. Geesh, why don't they just throw in mind controlling while they're at it?" Wally gave a heavy sigh of helplessness, gradually accepting his fate. He lay down, for the last time, on his old springy cot, and remained restless until the guards came to take him home in the morning.
*************
The week after his release was nothing short of torture. Upon returning to the old neighborhood, which was now decapitated, and devoid of once happy kids, he would have given anything to return to Juvi. Even his house wasn't immune to the wear and tear; he literally dropped his duffle bag at the sight of his old, worn house. He could barely stand to live in that place, and his parents' overly welcome comments and faces didn't help the matter.
It was around five in the morning of the day he would be laving for camp when Wally finally decided to get out and about the block. He put on his old orange sweatshirt and jeans, just like old times, and sauntered out of the house into the brisk cold. He had gotten over the fact that the area was indeed not as it used to be, and walked quickly down the street, taking in everything one more time before his departure. His toddle, however, stopped short when he came to the KND tree house; he instinctively gazed at it in silence.
The headquarters, too, had seen better days. Its structure was deteriorating, the painted numbers were chipping, and the tree itself was dead. Wally made a low growling noise as he recalled the day the five operatives had been decommissioned, and they're spots given to a new group of youngsters. He remembered their faces, teeming with inexperience and stupid innocence. The day the five left was the day that part of the KND met it's destruction. All five of the squirts had no doubt abandoned their posts, as the tree house was now empty, and seemed as though it hadn't been used in no less than a year. Wally let out a shriek of disgust, picked up various stones, and went about throwing them erratically at the deserted house. His anger spent, he took a seat on the sidewalk and stared up at his once proud second home.
While he stared he thought; not only of the incapable successors, but also of the able-bodied crew before them-the only friends he ever had, and the only ones he had ever lost. The four flashed in his mind constantly, but one always outshone the rest.
"I miss you Kuki..." he muttered, eyes fixated on the green '3' painted on one part of the building, "wish you were here. I swear, if I eva see you again, I'm gonna tell you how I really feel...no more 'what iffin' about it. It's not gonna be age ten all ova again..." His thoughts soon drifted to her, and he remained that way for roughly an hour, until the person interrupted him he wanted to hear least.
"Wallabee", his mom called down the street in a drawling accent, "it's already 6:30, hun, you don't want to be late for the bus to...well, you know where."
With a grumble, the camper-to-be reluctantly made his way to the car, throwing his duffle bag, along with himself, in the back seat upon reaching it upon reaching it. His parents, with fake smiled plastered on their faces, followed suit. Within three hours, they were nearing their destination.
*************
"You're gonna love it there, son", Wally's father said through his clenched grin.
"How do you know? Eva been there?" came the snappy reply; after that, the adult was quiet.
"What your fatha is tryin ta say", his mother broke the silence, "is that he's sure you'll have a wonderful time...that's all."
"Oh, is that it?" Wally was suddenly filled with annoyance, "that's all he's gotta say, after I've spent three flippin years in Juvenile Hall, waiting to come home, and actually wanting to see you two again! Well, that's just fine and dandy!" at this he threw his arms up in fake defeat. "I'm sure I'll have a I'll have a 'wonderful' time in this stupid 'teen help' camp you forced me to got to without any input in the matter, as well." Following that little speech, NO one bothered to say anything until they arrived.
The car stopped in front of the forested drop-off area, and Wally and his bag were left with only the comment of 'have fun, and we love you' from a teary eyed mother, and the vehicle sped down the dirt road; a cold glare followed until it was out of sight.
"Hello", an upbeat voice exclaimed, followed by an even perkier looking counselor carrying a clipboard, "you must be...Wallabee Beatles" she said as she scrolled down the board "well, in that case, I guess it's 'g'day, mate', eh?" she laughed in a high-pitched, almost taunting tone that right away made Wally want to knock her face in.
"Yeah, that's me" he said behind clenched teeth.
"Great! We've been expecting you! You can just call me Molly, your friendly camp leader! I've already registered you, and set you up with your guide buddy!"
"Guide...buddy?" He hated the way the last word sounded.
Molly just nodded. "Yes-sir-e-Bob, every newcomer to our camp is paired up with an eager volunteer camper who, let's just say, 'knows the ropes'...yours should be here any second-" but she was cut off by a strangely familiar voice sounding from behind.
"Hey, counse, Ab-er-I'm here fo the 'guide buddy' thang." A tall, African American girl with long black hair approached the two.
"Ah, there she is. I'd like you to meet-" but she didn't have to go any further; both kids were gawking at each other in utter astonishment.
"ABBY?!!"
*************
AN: yeah, sorry to leave you there and all, but the last part was a bit of a quickie for me. It's slow, but it'll get better...and more 54 related, (trust me, he's gotta lose his love before he can discover another one; that's the way this fic works). And I know it might seem a little angsty, but give the kid a break, he's been in Juvi for three years (cause later to be discussed)...you're bound to think a lot after all the isolation. This was just the exposition. PLEASE, PLEASE R & R...I need to know how y'all like it so far!
Disclaimer: don't own anything. End of story.
*************
"Beatles!" a voice boomed, and there was the creak of a large door opening, "you got mail" the voice paused as a letter was thrown to the resident, and left with "and cheer up, for God's sake, it's your last full day in Juvenile Hall." The guard closed the white metal door with a clank, leaving Wally alone again, who had scarcely moved from his cot, but was fingering the letter in his hands; it was from his parents, who, by the way, hadn't talked to him in person since the day he was put in there, three years ago. He gave a frustrated moan and tore open the letter, and started to read:
Dear Wallabee,
First of all, your father and I are thrilled you're finally coming home, we've missed you more than you know (Wally scoffed).
But just because we're happy for your return doesn't mean we aren't still displeased with your behavior. Though you've no doubt learned the error of your ways ("Yeah, right"), we think the source of all this anger your anger you seem to have is through lack of self-control. That's why we enrolled you in a Children's Correctional Camp (CCC, for short). It's a place where kids just like you can learn to control themselves, and get professional help; we sent you a brochure so you can learn more a bout it. Think of it as a summer camp for "troubled teens". You start there in a week.
Well, that's all we really had to say. Remember, we love you, and we can't wait to see you again.
With love,
Mom and Dad
Wally sat staring at the letter in shock for some time, and then his annoyance began to kick in. "Correctional camp?" he cried, not caring that he was the only one inside the cell to hear, "I thought this place was supposed to 'correct' me. They can't wait to see me, and yet they send me to a stupid CAMP!!" At this point he jumped up, ran across the room, and pounded his fist on a part of the wall that had previously been chipped from his "fits". "Cruddy...parents...messing...with life...suffered enough...already..." he said in between blows to the concrete.
After a period of senseless punching, he turned back to his bed, where the brochure was sitting. He mumbled various incoherent things as he snatched the pamphlet and scanned the contents.
"'The Children's Correctional Camp is a place where young teens can learn control themselves, making friends along the way'-yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before," he read aloud to himself, "'The facility is divided into three parts: anger management, substance abuse rehabilitation, and trauma counseling.' Oh, well, that's just lovely, except for the anger management, substance abuse rehabilitation, and trauma counseling parts. Geesh, why don't they just throw in mind controlling while they're at it?" Wally gave a heavy sigh of helplessness, gradually accepting his fate. He lay down, for the last time, on his old springy cot, and remained restless until the guards came to take him home in the morning.
*************
The week after his release was nothing short of torture. Upon returning to the old neighborhood, which was now decapitated, and devoid of once happy kids, he would have given anything to return to Juvi. Even his house wasn't immune to the wear and tear; he literally dropped his duffle bag at the sight of his old, worn house. He could barely stand to live in that place, and his parents' overly welcome comments and faces didn't help the matter.
It was around five in the morning of the day he would be laving for camp when Wally finally decided to get out and about the block. He put on his old orange sweatshirt and jeans, just like old times, and sauntered out of the house into the brisk cold. He had gotten over the fact that the area was indeed not as it used to be, and walked quickly down the street, taking in everything one more time before his departure. His toddle, however, stopped short when he came to the KND tree house; he instinctively gazed at it in silence.
The headquarters, too, had seen better days. Its structure was deteriorating, the painted numbers were chipping, and the tree itself was dead. Wally made a low growling noise as he recalled the day the five operatives had been decommissioned, and they're spots given to a new group of youngsters. He remembered their faces, teeming with inexperience and stupid innocence. The day the five left was the day that part of the KND met it's destruction. All five of the squirts had no doubt abandoned their posts, as the tree house was now empty, and seemed as though it hadn't been used in no less than a year. Wally let out a shriek of disgust, picked up various stones, and went about throwing them erratically at the deserted house. His anger spent, he took a seat on the sidewalk and stared up at his once proud second home.
While he stared he thought; not only of the incapable successors, but also of the able-bodied crew before them-the only friends he ever had, and the only ones he had ever lost. The four flashed in his mind constantly, but one always outshone the rest.
"I miss you Kuki..." he muttered, eyes fixated on the green '3' painted on one part of the building, "wish you were here. I swear, if I eva see you again, I'm gonna tell you how I really feel...no more 'what iffin' about it. It's not gonna be age ten all ova again..." His thoughts soon drifted to her, and he remained that way for roughly an hour, until the person interrupted him he wanted to hear least.
"Wallabee", his mom called down the street in a drawling accent, "it's already 6:30, hun, you don't want to be late for the bus to...well, you know where."
With a grumble, the camper-to-be reluctantly made his way to the car, throwing his duffle bag, along with himself, in the back seat upon reaching it upon reaching it. His parents, with fake smiled plastered on their faces, followed suit. Within three hours, they were nearing their destination.
*************
"You're gonna love it there, son", Wally's father said through his clenched grin.
"How do you know? Eva been there?" came the snappy reply; after that, the adult was quiet.
"What your fatha is tryin ta say", his mother broke the silence, "is that he's sure you'll have a wonderful time...that's all."
"Oh, is that it?" Wally was suddenly filled with annoyance, "that's all he's gotta say, after I've spent three flippin years in Juvenile Hall, waiting to come home, and actually wanting to see you two again! Well, that's just fine and dandy!" at this he threw his arms up in fake defeat. "I'm sure I'll have a I'll have a 'wonderful' time in this stupid 'teen help' camp you forced me to got to without any input in the matter, as well." Following that little speech, NO one bothered to say anything until they arrived.
The car stopped in front of the forested drop-off area, and Wally and his bag were left with only the comment of 'have fun, and we love you' from a teary eyed mother, and the vehicle sped down the dirt road; a cold glare followed until it was out of sight.
"Hello", an upbeat voice exclaimed, followed by an even perkier looking counselor carrying a clipboard, "you must be...Wallabee Beatles" she said as she scrolled down the board "well, in that case, I guess it's 'g'day, mate', eh?" she laughed in a high-pitched, almost taunting tone that right away made Wally want to knock her face in.
"Yeah, that's me" he said behind clenched teeth.
"Great! We've been expecting you! You can just call me Molly, your friendly camp leader! I've already registered you, and set you up with your guide buddy!"
"Guide...buddy?" He hated the way the last word sounded.
Molly just nodded. "Yes-sir-e-Bob, every newcomer to our camp is paired up with an eager volunteer camper who, let's just say, 'knows the ropes'...yours should be here any second-" but she was cut off by a strangely familiar voice sounding from behind.
"Hey, counse, Ab-er-I'm here fo the 'guide buddy' thang." A tall, African American girl with long black hair approached the two.
"Ah, there she is. I'd like you to meet-" but she didn't have to go any further; both kids were gawking at each other in utter astonishment.
"ABBY?!!"
*************
AN: yeah, sorry to leave you there and all, but the last part was a bit of a quickie for me. It's slow, but it'll get better...and more 54 related, (trust me, he's gotta lose his love before he can discover another one; that's the way this fic works). And I know it might seem a little angsty, but give the kid a break, he's been in Juvi for three years (cause later to be discussed)...you're bound to think a lot after all the isolation. This was just the exposition. PLEASE, PLEASE R & R...I need to know how y'all like it so far!
