Chapter 3

Chad sat under the school bleachers, breathing raggedly. It was stupid of him to have run, even stupider of him to have jumped out the bathroom window. He should have stayed and talked to Cree. Not to mention he had managed to twist his ankle when he landed.

"Stupid...stupid..." he muttered to himself. But what would he have said? How could he have explained to her what he was going through? "Cree, I tried to murder everybody." She would think he'd lost his mind. Or worse she'd—

"Do you think that will do anything other than make her hate you?"

Father's words came back to haunt him. Would she hate him? He couldn't bear the thought. He would have to keep this from her. Everything. Maybe it was for the best—maybe this way Father would leave her alone, she'd be safe.

But would he be able to make it through this without her?

He curled himself into a miserable ball. He missed her....

---

Once again at the boundary between light and shadow, Chad faltered.

---

"Chad?"

He woke with a gasp and looked up at the crouching figure before him. "Cree?" he asked, but knew immediately he was wrong. It was her younger sister, Abigail.

He was still under the bleachers; he must have fallen asleep. It was starting to get dark out.

"Oh, hi Abby," he corrected himself. He straightened out his stiff limbs, wincing slightly at the pain in his ankle.

Abigail peered at him curiously. "Funny place for a nap."

"Yeah, it wasn't really planned." He glanced at his watch, it was late enough to have missed all his practices and club meetings. He didn't really care. He crawled out from under the bleachers and stood gingerly. The throbbing of his ankle bothered him, but not as much as the ache in his chest.

"What are you doing here so late anyways?" Chad questioned.

"Oh, just...hanging out with some friends," she replied vaguely.

Chad glanced at her backpack. A wooden weapon was jutting out of it—the SPLANKER, standard 2x4 technology. He felt an unpleasant twinge in his brain as the memories returned. Abby...she was still an active KND member...Numbuh Five. He had known her even before he met Cree.

"I saw someone under the bleachers and came over to investigate," she continued, changing the subject. "I'm actually glad I found you, I wanted to ask you something."

"Really? What's that?" he asked, slightly nervous.

"Well, it's Cree. She's been acting funny the past couple days. I tried talking to her, but I can't get anything out of her. Do you know what's going on?"

Chad sighed regretfully. "I guess...that'd be my fault." He didn't know what else to say, but Abby continued to watch him expectantly. He met her eyes. Could he confide in her? He had gotten to know her pretty well this past year, with all the time he spent with Cree. He had been amazed at her intelligence and level-headedness, especially considering her age. He considered her a friend, and thought she felt the same. But did she? How could she after the way he had betrayed her and her friends, after he had tried to kill her? Yet she was the one who re-introduced him to Cree...why?

"Abby, remem—"

"Numbuh Five!" called a voice, interrupting him, one that Chad knew all too well.

Nigel Uno ran up towards them. Chad froze at the sight of him.

"Numbuh—"Nigel stopped himself abruptly. "Oh, hi, Chad."

"Hi," greeted Chad, trying to seem composed. How many times had he tried to kill this boy? Yet this past year, he had seen Nigel several times, and they had chatted, if not as friends, as friendly acquaintances.

"Um, Abby," Numbuh One continued carefully. "Hoagie found something...interesting. Care to join us?"

"Sure, I'll be right there."

Nigel glanced at Chad then turned to return to the school as Abby lingered to study Chad for a moment. "I gotta go. I don't know what's going on between you and Cree, but you should talk to her. Catch you later, 'kay?" She ran to meet up with Nigel.

He should talk to Cree. He wanted to, but he was afraid. Instead, he trudged for the general direction of home.

---

He was approaching the back door of his house when he heard his mother laughing. That laugh she used whenever she was trying to seem pleasant around someone she didn't particularly like. She used that laugh whenever she was around Cree.

Chad ducked behind some bushes and peered into the kitchen window. Sure enough, he saw Cree inside with his mom. Cree was peeling carrots rather dejectedly, apparently having volunteered to help with dinner. Mom was stirring something in a pot, a little too vigorously.

"He's usually home by now, it's strange. Coach Wetterhan called earlier, Chad missed practice. I thought maybe he was out with you. He forgets all his responsibilities when he's out with you," his mom chattered, followed by another artificial laugh.

Cree only sighed in reply, and picked up another carrot.

"I tried to call him on his cell phone, but he never does turn it on, does he? We'll have to have a chat about that when he gets back." Again Mom laughed for no apparent reason.

"I'm done with the carrots," Cree announced absently, "I think I'll wait for Chad in his room." She left the kitchen.

"Okay, dear, I'll let him know when he gets—you peeled the whole bag of carrots? What am I supposed to do with two pounds of peeled carrots?"

Cree was already out of earshot, heading up the stairs.

Chad stepped away from the kitchen window and looked up to see the light in his bedroom turn on. What now...?

He plopped himself down on the packed dirt at his feet near a clump of bushes, which he hoped would hide him. He tried to run scenarios through his mind. If he walked in now, Mom would start to scold him for missing all the practices and club meetings. Would Cree hear and come downstairs? Maybe if he snuck in through the front door, he could bypass Mom and make it to Cree without her noticing. But what then...? What would he say to Cree once he confronted her?

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the aggravating pain in his ankle and the chill in the night air. He rubbed his arms in a vain attempt to generate warmth. Then took a sharp inhale as he felt another memory unlock in his mind.

Kenny turned to him with hateful eyes. "Traitor," he muttered, as he was being dragged away by guards.

Chad tried to shake his mind free of the vision. What had he done?

---

Chad lingered uncertainly outside of Kenny's old house. He didn't really know why he came there. He couldn't know for certain if Kenny was even there.

He had almost convinced himself to turn around and leave when the front door opened. A well-tanned girl stepped eagerly outside and approached him.

"Chad? I thought it was you!" she beamed at him.

"Nat? Wow, how are you?" He placed a hand on her head affectionately.

She brushed off his hand petulantly. "I'm not a little kid anymore."

"That's right, you've really grown. How have you been?"

Natalie began a reply, but was interrupted by a voice from the house.

"Shoo, Gnat."

They both looked up to see Kenny.

"Why should I? Chad's my friend too."

"'Cause I said so." When this proved ineffective, Kenny added, "Dad wants to see you inside."

Nat frowned at him. "You better not be lying." She returned to the house.

"It was nice seeing you, Nat," Chad called after her. She waved in acknowledgement.

"Don't encourage her," Kenny muttered. "She's annoying enough as it is."

"Does your dad really want to see her?" Chad asked out of idle curiosity.

"Kind of," he shrugged. "So have you finished hurling?"

"Yeah, for now."

"You break any bones when you dived out the window?"

"Nah. Twisted my ankle, though. It still hurts."

"Heh. Wuss."

A moment of silence passed. Chad looked up into the sky and wondered why he came there.

"My dad turned my room into his gym. It's really lame. You wanna see?" Kenny invited.

"Maybe later." He paused then continued on a completely different subject. "Do you remember the Kids Next Door?"

"Next door to who?"

"Yeah, I thought so," Chad sighed.

"The old lady with the parakeet still lives next door," Kenny offered helpfully. "Well, the old lady, at least. Don't know about the parakeet."

"Right." Chad nodded. "So you don't—" He stopped himself.

"Huh?"

He mulled over his words for a while. "We knew each other before sixth grade English class."

"Yeah, we knew each other all through grade school. Still don't remember how, though."

"How about Jessie and Brian? From Sector Q?"

Kenny stared at him blankly. "You feeling okay?"

"Never mind. Listen, I gotta jet, but we should get together soon. We'll get snow cones or something. Say bye to Nat for me."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Wait—I want to ask—do you have a girlfriend, back in Hawaii, or something?"

"Sure, lots of 'em," Kenny grinned.

Chad laughed, knowing immediately that he would be of no help in that department. "Later."

Chad walked away, feeling both better and worse after the talk. It was helpful and unhelpful at the same time. What he needed was answers.

---

Chad stood outside of Abby's—Numbuh Five's window. It was dark inside—was she even home? Perhaps she was at the Treehouse. He picked up a small pebble and threw it at her window. He waited a moment, then repeated the action. Upon searching for another pebble, he heard a voice call,

"Who's there?" She sounded more than a little annoyed.

He looked up. "It's me, Chad."

"Chad? You got the wrong window. Cree's room is down the hall." Abby pointed.

"I know. It's just...I need to talk to you."

"To me? Right now? It's late. Can't it wait?"

"I...not really. If it's okay with you..." he trailed off.

Abby sighed. "Okay. Walk around to the side, I'll let you in."

A few moments later she opened the side door and she stepped aside to let him enter, yawning loudly.

"Thanks."

"Whatever," Abby grumbled. They walked to the kitchen together, Chad snapping on the lights as they entered.

Abby winced. "Ugh. Do you mind?" She turned them off again.

"Oh, sorry." Chad shivered and looked around at the surrounding gloom.

"Cree's gonna think it's pretty strange if she comes in here and sees us talking."

"She's not here."

"She's not?"

"She's at my place."

"So...you're here, and she's there?" She shook her head, rolling her eyes slightly. "Makes perfect sense to me. So what's so important that you needed to talk to me in the middle of the night?"

Chad took a breath. This was going to be harder than he thought. Abby was already in a bad mood. He started tentatively, "This past year, since I've been dating Cree...well, you and I've kind of gotten to know each other, since I've spent so much time around here. And...I've come to think of you as a friend." He paused. "You are Cree's sister, after all, and I hope you think of me as something like a friend too?" He blurted this part out quickly, glancing at her nervously.

"Yeah, sure," Abby replied, in a rather unfriendly manner. Upon seeing his uncomfortable reaction, she added, "Of course," in a more affable tone. She sighed. "Look, I know something's up between you and Cree. I don't know what, I'm not even sure I want to know. But I said it earlier—you need to talk to her."

Chad nodded sadly. This talk didn't help at all. But he looked up at her and said, "thanks."

Abby watched him carefully, as if trying to read him. But then, seemingly abandoning this attempt, she stood. "I'm going back to sleep."

"Okay," murmured Chad. Then he looked up abruptly. "Wait—there's one more thing I wanted to ask you. You were the one who introduced me to Cree after—"he caught himself. "You introduced me to Cree. Why?"

"Why?" repeated Abby, turning to stare at him. "It was a coincidence, I needed a tutor."

"No you didn't. You're an A student. You should be tutoring other kids."

"Well, sometimes I have trouble..." she began, attempting to explain, before stopping and changing her tone. "Look, what does it matter? You two are together and you love each other—anyone can see that. It doesn't really matter how you met, you would have gotten together somehow. And you're happy, right? Well, maybe not now, but generally. I've never seen Cree this happy. We used to fight all the time, but lately we hardly ever. I'm glad for her. She used to—"Abby paused again. "You love Cree, don't you? Talk to her. Now. Go!" With that, she left the room.

He still hadn't heard the answers he was looking for. But of course she was right. He left to go to Cree.

---

He entered his house through the back door, gingerly closing it soundlessly behind him. He looked around the dim kitchen. He hated night. It was always so dark. But he didn't want to turn on the lights, for fear of attracting unwanted attention from any parents who might be making a trip to the bathroom at an inopportune moment. He settled for turning on the small light over the stove. He felt slightly more at ease.

But only slightly. He still had to talk to Cree. What would he say?

"Cree, I'm sorry, I've been such an idiot. I love you."

He had tried that already, it wasn't enough. She needed an explanation.

"Cree, I know it seems like I've been avoiding you, but I just need to murder someone, and then I'm all yours."

Oh yeah, much better.

He sat down at the kitchen table and buried his face in his hands. The incessant question on his mind was why? Why had this happened to him? Not only the question of why Father chose to return his memories, especially after waiting so long, but why was he even chosen by Father in the first place? Why did he have the misfortune of Father's interest?

He was having trouble forming coherent thoughts. He felt exhausted and weak. He suddenly remembered he hadn't eaten anything since that morning. Food. He was hungry. He walked over to the fridge and peered inside. He examined the leftovers. It was probably meant to be something like a stew, but it smelled burnt and unappetizing. He stared at a container of thick, orange liquid before identifying it as carrot juice. Rejecting that as well, he reached for the carton of milk and drained it.

Returning to the kitchen table, he stared out at the window into the dark neighborhood for answers. Dark…he shivered. He turned to glance at the light above the stove. It wasn't there. He caught his breath, staring around him wildly for some sign of light—a streetlamp, a neighbor's window….

Nothing. He was surrounded by blackness.

Chad's heart was pounding; he reached out to try to hold onto something real, and grabbed only air.

For a long while, Chad did nothing—just sat as the darkness pressed in around him. But soon he heard it, or rather, sensed it. Something was beckoning him from the dark. He could feel it trying to draw him in.

Chad….

He covered his ears. "Go away. Just go away…."

But it continued to call to him, in a voice as insidious as it was omniscient. It spoke to him of things he wished to know. It had answers.

But did he really want to hear those answers?

For a long moment, he sat in indecision. Then he stood and walked.

He arrived outside the mansion, trying to gather his courage. He clutched the bars of the front gate. They were unlocked; a small push, and they would open. He fixed his eyes on the large building before him. Father would already know he was there. He couldn't be surprised, caught off-guard. Should he do this? Would it really accomplish anything? Could he do this? When finally face-to-face with Father, would he be able to suppress the terror that was already taking over his body and mind?

But he had to know. He pushed the gate. It swung open easily.

He entered the mansion. He knew which path to take to reach Father--he simply went in the direction his heart dreaded to go. Finally he arrived at a set of doors. He could feel the Evil pulsating within. Chad hesitated, breathing raggedly. His heart pounded. He wanted to run, as far away from this place as possible. But he gritted his teeth and turned the handle of the door.

It was dark, so dark.

"Hello, my child, what brings you here today?" asked Father in a false-friendly voice from the shadowed depths of the room.

Chad gaped into the dark, trying to see. It made the dim hallway seem bright in comparison. "I…"

He needed to focus. He needed his questions answered. "I need—"

"Oh, yes, I almost forgot."

Chad briefly caught sight of a small glint in the darkness then heard, rather than saw, something fly towards him. He caught it reflexively.

He looked down at what he was grasping. A sheathed sword. His katana.

He remembered when Cree first presented it to him, how he held it and stared in awe. He couldn't explain why the memory brought tears to his eyes.

"Have you put much thought into my mission for you?"

Chad just stared at the katana, trying not to think—Father would read his thoughts the moment they materialized. He did not want Father to know he was thinking of Cree.

"I assumed as much, you're wavering."

He began to feel dizzy from panic. He shouldn't have come. No matter what he tried, Father could see into his mind. He felt vulnerable, exposed.

"Perhaps your motivation is unclear. What is your impetus now? Protecting the girl you love?" There was a low, mocking chuckle. "A weak catalyst at best. Come now, Chad, isn't there something else?"

He squeezed his katana tight in his fists. He remembered wishing for strength from it in the past.

He could feel Father closing in on him; he could sense the evil presence growing ever closer.

"Please, just stay away." There was no longer any defiance, just feeble pleading.

Father was a breath away. Chad shook from fear.

"Don't be afraid, child, I'm just here to help you remember."

Chad took a sharp intake of breath as he felt Father reach forward and delve into his mind. It was agonizing—as if a knife of ice were being plunged into his brain. The pain and shock was paralyzing, there was nothing he could do to defend himself.

Father passed freely in the maze of locked memories, sifting through them as if they were second-hand books, discarding those which didn't serve his purposes. Settling upon one, he pulled it out and released it.

"Do you recall this, child?"

Chad saw himself as he strangled a young boy. He watched himself as he looked without remorse as the boy's eyes slowly dimmed.

'Stop it!' he wanted to roar, but he was powerless. He couldn't even look away. 'Stop….'

Thankfully the scene faded to black. Chad trembled, choking for breath.

"Don't deny your true self, Chad."

"No, that's not true. That's not me!" His voice echoed in the emptiness, and he could hear his fear as it repeated to infinity.

"You don't understand yet? It's hatred that brings you—all of you—to me. Your anger towards the world fuels you, but you don't know what to do with it. And then you sense me, someone who will give your hatred direction and purpose. That's why you come."

"No," Chad denied again. "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have—"

"Fool, do you still believe that?"

A barrage of memories assaulted Chad's mind. Taking a small boy hostage. Falsifying the ages of fellow operatives. Betraying his only friend. Trying to murder everyone on Moonbase.

"Can you blame anyone but yourself for those actions?"

Chad slumped, defeated.

"Accept your fate, child. This is the path your life must take."

With those words, Father left his mind. Chad was once again standing at the door, clutching to the katana, knuckles white. His muscles trembled, he felt as though they would give way any second. The throbbing of his racing heart echoed in his ears. He let the tip of his sword clink to the floor and grasped the hilt for support--he felt dizzy, nauseous.

"Come in, child, this is where you belong. There are depths of hatred within you that surpass even mine. Embrace your hatred, it will make you strong."

Hatred...Chad closed his eyes and remembered. He remembered hating the world and everything in it. He remembered his hopelessness when he thought he would never, ever be happy again. He could recall the feeling...but didn't feel it. Because he also remembered Cree. The thought of her became his strength and support. He feared that Father could see that he was thinking of her, but she was the only thing stopping him from collapsing to the ground.

Finally, Chad heard a scraping on the floor, the sound of a chair being pushed back. Soon he saw two glowing eyes appear from the blackness. They bored into him.

Chad could only stare back, helpless.

The yellow slits glared their disapproval. "Get out," the voice boomed, and the door slammed shut in Chad's face, knocking him back, into the hallway, onto the cold floor.

Chad lay stunned for a moment, then scrambled up and ran as fast as he could. As far as he could. Down the hall, down the stairs. Past bedrooms and sitting rooms and ballrooms and rooms which seemed to serve no purpose at all. Finally he reached the front door, and he burst through to the night air, gasping for breath. He continued at break-neck speed for as long as he could, until he felt his muscles cramp and his insides knot. He collapsed to the dank ground.

---

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author's notes: the Kenny scenes in this fic aren't all that significant, i suppose, but it is setup for a prequel that i'm writing. and i wanted Kenny to make another appearance...just because.