Chapter Three: Wake-up call

It was late. Very late, maybe past midnight, or very early. Locke couldn't tell: his alarm clock was once again trashed. It kept falling from his nightstand, Edmund knows why.

The red scientist lay on his back, eyes drifting off in the dark. Maybe he could have called Lara-Le, ask her if she wanted to come with them. He could have at least tried… But Wynmacher would have chuckled and said: "An amusement park? Locke, you're getting too old for this kind of lame excuses. Now, answer: where do you plan to take Lara?" and that would have ended the discussion.

Locke sighed. Being far from Lara was hurting him, but never in a million years would he let the others know. Someday, he thought, I'll go to her. Someday…

Lara… Her beautiful green eyes. Her sweet smile. The fuzzy feeling he got on his cheek whenever she kissed it. How he missed all that! He wanted nothing but to hold her, to feel her head under his chin, to brush his rugged fur against her soft one. How he missed those times when he could do these things…and didn't.

Locke sighed. Clam down, you idiot. You're just being nostalgic again. Nothing a good night's sleep can't fix.

Comforted by that thought, the former Guardian began to drift off again, welcoming slumber with open arms. But as his eyes closed, a weight was thrown on his stomach, and he jerked awake, gasping for air.

He looked down, to find himself staring into a pair of big purple eyes. Blade grinned and bounced a little on his second-father's stomach.

"Time to get up! Up! Up!" he sang cheerfully.

"I'm up, I'm up" Locke groaned, sitting up. He stirred his arms, and scratched the back of his head. Locke then got up, grabbing his lab coat thrown carelessly on a chair. "What time is it anyway?"

"Grandfather Sabre said it's six a.m." Blade announced proudly.

"Six a.m.?! Why in the name of everything would I get up at six a.m.?!" Locke exclaimed. "No way, I'm sleeping!"

The red scientist dropped back on his bed, not even bothering to remove his lab coat. He faked a few snores, forcing Blade to frown.

"Grandfather! You promised!"

"Well, I changed my mind. Goodnight!" Locke said before resuming sleeping.

Blade crossed his arms, pouting. But he got an idea; crawling off the bed, he walked a few steps toward the door, and exclaimed: "Well, if this isn't Grandfather Thunderhawk walking by with a shattered computer screen and a hammer…"

Locke jumped out of bed and ran bare feet in the corridor. "Fourth-father, you better let go of this computer screen or else I-" He interrupted himself. The corridor was empty.

He stared wide eyed, when a chuckle rang. Blade was leaning against the wall, a triumphant grin on his face. He had managed to fool his second-father. The red echidna sighed, and smiled finally.

"You won. Let me get my boots. Say, what don't you go wake your Eighth-father up?"

"W-wake Grandfather Spectre up?" Blade trembled slightly.

"Yes. He's coming too, isn't he?"

Nodding, Blade backed up in the corridor. No escape this time, Locke knew it. The boy was going to wake Spectre up, and the elder one was quite grumpy in the morning. Well, it had to be done anyway…

As the little echidna got out of his room, Locke sat on his bed and bent to slip his boots on. He chuckled under his breath; it was a matter of seconds before he'd hear Spectre's outburst. What a wonderful way to get Blade back for his wake-up call this morning!

Boots on, he tied his belt around his waist and waited, all ears. He was expecting shouting, yelling, running. Nothing. A second passed… two… Still not any noise. Locke frowned. Had Blade backed out? No, the boy was far from doing that… What was he waiting for?

Suddenly, a high pitched screeching sound was heard; Spectre's alarm clock. Locke winced, getting up. So, Blade had turned the alarm on. Smart kid…not very subtle though.

The former Guardian opened his door, to see a very scared Blade run by. The little one didn't stop, but held his hand out as to salute him.

"Mission accomplished, Second-father!" and he ran out of sight.

Out of his room came a furious Spectre half clothed, in his pyjamas pants. He held a trashed alarm clock in his hand, and he was turning the same bloody shade of red as his eyes. Teeth bared in fury, he turned to Locke.

"You were behind this, weren't you?" he asked, holding the bashed alarm clock out. "You told him to do that!"

"Grandfather, you're mistaking, I wouldn't dare-" Locke stammered.

"Oh, sure you wouldn't! That's why we're here in a corridor at-"He looked at his abused alarm clock, trying to read distorted numbers. "-six a.m.! And by the way, what are you doing awake at such an early hour?"

"I could ask you the same question" Locke retorted, crossing his arms.

Spectre opened his mouth, but came up with nothing. He then realised how foolish he had to look; at six a.m., in the corridor only in his pants and waving a smashed up alarm clock while shouting at his sixth-son. He looked away, ashamed, and began walking back in his room.

"I, uh, should get ready" he spluttered.

He closed his door as Locke raised an eyebrow, apparently incredulous. Spectre sighed. This day started even worse than he's feared…

XXXXXXX

This morning, Athair insisted upon making breakfast himself. The others Guardians groaned, but nothing could go against the brown echidna's happiness. He settled for eggs and toasts.

They were all seated around the table in Haven's kitchen. Thunderhawk and Sojourner looked up and about, but Sabre was still sleepy. He was staring at his empty glass, every now and then taking a sip of empty air. Locke was looking at his father strangely, and Spectre was bent forward, head in his arms, ready to fall asleep anytime.

Blade was sitting on Athair's shoulders, laughing as the flying echidna juggled with eggs and spoons in mid-air.

"Athair" Thunderhawk groaned. "You said you would make breakfast. Not make a fool out of yourself like you always do. We're waiting, down here"

Athair stuck out his tongue at him, but stopped juggling. He hovered over the stove, and took out the frying pan. While the stove warmed up, Athair opened a closet and took his toaster out. He kissed the metallic shell, and hugged it to his chest.

"Hello, my darling. Did you sleep well? Were the glasses good with you?" he muttered while stroking the toaster. This got a groan from Sojourner, and an annoyed sigh from Spectre. What in the seven Chaos emeralds did I ever do to deserve such a fool of a fourth-son? "Athair, you may as well start cooking breakfast, don't you think?" he suggested tiredly.

"I agree!" Athair said. "I'm a little hungry"

Locke rolled his eyes, waving to Blade. "Come here, Second-son. Athair near a frying pan may prove to be very dangerous"

Athair pouted, but put Blade on the ground. As the little echidna ran to his ancestors, the brown echidna plugged the toaster in and put toasts in it. He then turned to the stove, and put the eggs on the pan.

Spectre raised one eyebrow. "Fourth-son, aren't you supposed to crack the eggs? You know, the edible food is actually inside the egg…"

"Is it really?" Athair genuinely asked.

An ear-piercing sound was heard, and they all looked at the eggs. They were trembling, smoking, changing colour as if they were ready to-

"Under cover!" Spectre yelled.

The eggs burst out. Thunderhawk and Athair dove under the table, as Locke brought his plate up, shielding his face. Spectre wasn't so lucky; he tried dodging pieces of burning shell but got stuck in the eye. He yelped and put a hand to his face. Sabre, still half asleep, fell off his chair and lay sprawled on the ground. Shielding Blade, Sojourner threw small green balls of energy, destroying the flying pieces of shell.

"Don't use that here!" Locke cried from behind his plate. "It could be dangerous!"

Sojourner frowned, but obeyed. Soon things became calm again, and the Guardians got their seats back around the table. Spectre blinked, trying to get his eye to work. He sighed in relief when he regained sight. But the silence was short-lived; Locke broke it by asking:

"What's that smell?"

They smelled the air, detecting the obvious presence of something burning. Where does this was coming from? Spectre's eyes widened as understanding dawned on him. He turned to the toaster; a dark smoke was coming out of it, as well as the burning smell. Why must I endure this?

"IT'S GOING TO BLOW!" Athair screamed, horrified.

Spectre couldn't take anymore and ran out of the kitchen, quickly followed by Thunderhawk, Sojourner and Locke carrying Sabre. Toast flew out of the kitchen, along with Athair's screams. "POSSESSED! MY TOASTER IS POSSESSED!"

Spectre sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. So much for a calm and relaxing day…

XXXXXXX

One hour and many bandages later, they were all in one of Haven's vehicles, driving on the highway to Station Square. Blade was happily rambling about the toaster accident.

"Oh, and the look on Grandfather Spectre's face when Grandfather Athair grabbed the pan and began whacking the toaster screaming 'BACK! BACK TO WHERE YOU CAME FROM, YOU SPAWN OF DIMITRI!' It was priceless!"

Blade burst out laughing, holding his sides and waving his feet in the air from his seat next Thunderhawk and Spectre in the vehicle. Nobody laughed with him, not even Athair.

"And then, when he came out, Grandfather Athair's face was as dark as Grandfather Spectre's" Blade carried on, wiping a tear from his eye. Athair pouted, either ashamed or sad over his toaster's 'death'.

"Men, Twinkle Park ahead" Locke announced from the driver's seat. They all looked out; from there, they could see the amusement park. They would get there in a few minutes, and Spectre felt his hopes rise a little. Maybe this day wasn't so bad. Who knows, he might even have fun…

XXX

Here's the third chapter! Now I recommend you all lock your toasters somewhere, or Athair will come armed with a frying pan, and fear for your toasts! Just kidding…with a baseball bat. Stay tuned on!