(super magic reversion to not first person!)
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The Rebellion
----------------------------
The noise of the bang was heard, but Malcolm stayed standing. Joden stayed giggling. Jon nearly had a heart-attack and then thanked Heavan that father had remembered to leave blanks in the gun rather than bullets when he left.
Jon snatched the gun away from my younger brother and put it into the cabnit under lock and key-- where it was supposed to be.
"Joden," he snapped viciously, "When Father hears of what you did, taking his gun like that, he is going to be very upset with you."
"Nooo," Joden sang. "Not, not, not!"
"Yes," Jon said. He slapped Joden on the hand as he reached towards the cabnit. "Aren't you supposed
to be at school anyways?"
"No school!" He flung his hands into the air and ran away to his room giggling as he went.
"Malcolm," Jon said, speaking slowly as he grabbed the younger boy by the arm. "Are you alright?" Malcolm looked pale, frightened. "It wasn't loaded, it's okay."
"It's not that," Malcolm said quietly.
Jon was confused for a second, but decided not to pry--
{he'd tell me on his own time. The last thing I need to do was force him into anything after everything that had happened today.}
Speaking of which.
"Come on then," Jon said. Not bothering to kick off their shoes, he led Malcolm by the hand to the bathroom where he made the younger boy sit on the toilet seat while Jon cleaned him up. "I don't have to be back at the school," Jon said quietly, knowing that Malcolm had an off-period. "You could stay here tonight if you'd like?"
Malcolm nodded, wincing only slightly as the disinfectant was applied.
"You'll be fine, then."
He sighed. "Will I? Really?"
"Yes, of course."
"...For how long?"
Jon couldn't answer that. He didn't know the next time that he would run into Drake or one of Drake's boys. It was only a matter of time.
"Malcolm," he said quietly, "Don't worry. I'll figure something out." He nodded sullenly. "Otherwise---" he grinned as he looked at the clock "---It's just about 2:30. Let's grab a snack and then we can watch tv. Andromeda is coming on in a few minutes."
His eyes lit up as Jon knew they would. If nothing much else, they had Hercules in common. Jon loved the prospect of living in a time of Ancient Mythology, while Malcolm loved the prospect of being as strong as ten men.
Jon didn't blame him.
-------------------------
"Let me go!" Malcolm screamed, running in thin air. Drake held him by the arms and slammed him into the row of lockers - holding him there.
"Whassa matter, little guy?" Drake cooed, "I thought we were having fun!"
"Fun?!" Malcolm sputtered, "This is not fun! Fun is sitting at home watching tv and... and... This is not fun!"
Drake paused. An evil glint came into his eyes. "You're right. This isn't fun." He made to put the frightened boy back onto his feet.
Seeing his chance to run, Malcolm turned and tried to bolt but was cut off by the arm of one of Drake's henchmen.
"But I know what is fun!"
They carried Malcolm upside-down into the bathroom.
When his head resurfaced dripping wet, streams of water crying down onto the rim of the toilet-seat, Malcolm coughed and gasped for air. They had held him under too long and a blurry splurge of blood ran from his nose over his eyes and streaked down his forhead into his hair.
"One more run should do it!" came the far-away voice of Drake. "Longer this time, get this over with!"
"No!" Malcolm screamed, "Let me go! Noo!" His mouth filled with water and, as his vision turned red, something started to shake him.
"Malcolm!" came a voice from far away, "Malcolm!"
"J-Jon?" Malcolm's eyes snapped open to the frightened sweat-ridden face of Jonathan Archer."Wha-What...?"
"You were screaming in your sleep," Jon replied, pushing Malcolm's sweaty hair out of his eyes. "Are you alright."
"I'm fine."
"...You wanna talk about it?" Jon asked, passing the younger boy a glass half-full of water.
Malcolm shook his head slowly to the question and took a drink of the water.
Jon sighed as he accepted the glass back. "As corny as it sounds, I'm here for you, Mal. Always, always."
Malcolm suddenly found his hands very interesting as Jon set the glass on the dresser. "It's a funny thing Jon," Malcolm said quietly, "When Joden turned that gun on me... Instead of being afraid, I... I was relieved..." He pressed his hands to his forhead as silent tears streamed down from his eyes.
The thud of the glass hitting the carpet went unnoticed as Jon turned and enveloped the other into a hug, "It's alright, Malcolm," he said quietly, feeling his own eyes well-up, "Everything will be alright..."
----------------------------
The Rebellion
----------------------------
The noise of the bang was heard, but Malcolm stayed standing. Joden stayed giggling. Jon nearly had a heart-attack and then thanked Heavan that father had remembered to leave blanks in the gun rather than bullets when he left.
Jon snatched the gun away from my younger brother and put it into the cabnit under lock and key-- where it was supposed to be.
"Joden," he snapped viciously, "When Father hears of what you did, taking his gun like that, he is going to be very upset with you."
"Nooo," Joden sang. "Not, not, not!"
"Yes," Jon said. He slapped Joden on the hand as he reached towards the cabnit. "Aren't you supposed
to be at school anyways?"
"No school!" He flung his hands into the air and ran away to his room giggling as he went.
"Malcolm," Jon said, speaking slowly as he grabbed the younger boy by the arm. "Are you alright?" Malcolm looked pale, frightened. "It wasn't loaded, it's okay."
"It's not that," Malcolm said quietly.
Jon was confused for a second, but decided not to pry--
{he'd tell me on his own time. The last thing I need to do was force him into anything after everything that had happened today.}
Speaking of which.
"Come on then," Jon said. Not bothering to kick off their shoes, he led Malcolm by the hand to the bathroom where he made the younger boy sit on the toilet seat while Jon cleaned him up. "I don't have to be back at the school," Jon said quietly, knowing that Malcolm had an off-period. "You could stay here tonight if you'd like?"
Malcolm nodded, wincing only slightly as the disinfectant was applied.
"You'll be fine, then."
He sighed. "Will I? Really?"
"Yes, of course."
"...For how long?"
Jon couldn't answer that. He didn't know the next time that he would run into Drake or one of Drake's boys. It was only a matter of time.
"Malcolm," he said quietly, "Don't worry. I'll figure something out." He nodded sullenly. "Otherwise---" he grinned as he looked at the clock "---It's just about 2:30. Let's grab a snack and then we can watch tv. Andromeda is coming on in a few minutes."
His eyes lit up as Jon knew they would. If nothing much else, they had Hercules in common. Jon loved the prospect of living in a time of Ancient Mythology, while Malcolm loved the prospect of being as strong as ten men.
Jon didn't blame him.
-------------------------
"Let me go!" Malcolm screamed, running in thin air. Drake held him by the arms and slammed him into the row of lockers - holding him there.
"Whassa matter, little guy?" Drake cooed, "I thought we were having fun!"
"Fun?!" Malcolm sputtered, "This is not fun! Fun is sitting at home watching tv and... and... This is not fun!"
Drake paused. An evil glint came into his eyes. "You're right. This isn't fun." He made to put the frightened boy back onto his feet.
Seeing his chance to run, Malcolm turned and tried to bolt but was cut off by the arm of one of Drake's henchmen.
"But I know what is fun!"
They carried Malcolm upside-down into the bathroom.
When his head resurfaced dripping wet, streams of water crying down onto the rim of the toilet-seat, Malcolm coughed and gasped for air. They had held him under too long and a blurry splurge of blood ran from his nose over his eyes and streaked down his forhead into his hair.
"One more run should do it!" came the far-away voice of Drake. "Longer this time, get this over with!"
"No!" Malcolm screamed, "Let me go! Noo!" His mouth filled with water and, as his vision turned red, something started to shake him.
"Malcolm!" came a voice from far away, "Malcolm!"
"J-Jon?" Malcolm's eyes snapped open to the frightened sweat-ridden face of Jonathan Archer."Wha-What...?"
"You were screaming in your sleep," Jon replied, pushing Malcolm's sweaty hair out of his eyes. "Are you alright."
"I'm fine."
"...You wanna talk about it?" Jon asked, passing the younger boy a glass half-full of water.
Malcolm shook his head slowly to the question and took a drink of the water.
Jon sighed as he accepted the glass back. "As corny as it sounds, I'm here for you, Mal. Always, always."
Malcolm suddenly found his hands very interesting as Jon set the glass on the dresser. "It's a funny thing Jon," Malcolm said quietly, "When Joden turned that gun on me... Instead of being afraid, I... I was relieved..." He pressed his hands to his forhead as silent tears streamed down from his eyes.
The thud of the glass hitting the carpet went unnoticed as Jon turned and enveloped the other into a hug, "It's alright, Malcolm," he said quietly, feeling his own eyes well-up, "Everything will be alright..."