A/N: I wasn't expecting so many readers, thanks so much! And, Shirley, I
thought of you when I started this, knowing how much you love your Alex!
Thanks again, everyone!
You'll probably notice pretty soon that this is an extremely sad story, especially these first two chapters. Tissues ready?
***
"Andrew, really . . . you need to take it easy. You're working too hard."
"I am not. Besides, I can't stand to be around here anymore."
"Your son needs you."
"Alexander's a strong boy, he'll be fine."
Alex stood outside the living room with his back pressed to the wall, listening to the conversation between his father and Kendall. Three months had passed since his mother's death, three months that had dragged by miserably as his father buried himself deeper and deeper into his work and his 10-year-old son quietly went on with his life.
"It's not healthy," Kendall stated, "you're not a young man, Andrew. This work schedule could kill you, then what would Alex do?"
"How is Lucas?" Andrew switched the subject, "I heard you sent him to school."
"Yes, we did," Kendall said, "figured it was for his own good, it's an excellent school."
"It is," Andrew said, "but your son is only eight."
"Oh, he comes home quite often."
Alex sighed quietly and headed outside into the cool air to complete his morning work-out that his father insisted he keep up, he knelt on the grass and positioned himself, then raised his body up using only his arms.
"One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . "
He counted off each push-up quietly for what felt like an eternity, his arms strained and ached, demanding to be rested, but he ignored them and pushed them with all his will. A moment later, Kendall appeared outside, shortly followed by his father, headed off to work.
"Don't be late for school, Alexander," Andrew warned.
"Of course not," Alex said, jumping to his feet.
"You're going to grow to be one strong boy, aren't you?" Kendall said, smiling pleasantly.
Alex raised one eyebrow in what looked to be a skeptical expression, then stood still for a moment, as if wondering what to do next. Andrew glanced at his old-fashioned watch, a prize in the Collins family, and gestured quickly to Kendall: "It's time to go. I need to hurry or I'll be that one late."
Alex leaned against the railing of their front porch and watched his father and the admiral hop into their vehicles and fly off, his arms folded across his chest; his blue eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly as the cars disappeared around the corner to Time Force HQ. Oddly, an ancient saying came back to him as he saw his father's car retreating down the street, an old Irish taboo:
"Never watch someone out of sight, if you do you'll never see them again."
He shuddered involuntarily, still suffering from the unexpected death of one of his parents, and Adm. Kendall's words echoing in his mind: "This work schedule could kill you . . ." He went back inside to get ready for school, alone again in a house that could serve as a home for twenty people; a quick glance at the clock alerted him that he only had ten minutes, but he was unconcerned.
His thoughts were on everything but school as he sat in the classroom and half-listened to the ramblings of their Xybrian teacher. History class. They were studying the developement of humans on Earth in the early 21st Century, of little or no interest to the students pretending to listen; nearly 1,000 years in the past, even before Time Force.
"Bio-Lab," the teacher spoke, "was key in the developement of Time Force. It was created by . . . Alex, can you tell us?"
Alex looked up. "Alan Collins."
"Correct," the teacher said, smiling, "and when Alan Collins passed away, his son Wesley took over. Also key were the . . . Tom?"
"Gold Guardians?"
'Silver Guardians, you idiot,' Alex scolded silently. The teacher corrected his mistaken pupil aloud, then continued: "Yes. The same company that brought the Lightspeed Operation, created the Silver Guardians to protect the city of Silver Hills. Eventually, it was taken over by Eric Myers, whose great-great-great-grandson expanded the Guardians and renamed it . . . Sienna?"
The pretty, dark-haired girl frowned, looking around the room for a moment before answering: "Time Force?"
"Correct."
Alex sat next to her and rolled his eyes, leaning in closer to whisper: "Lucky guess."
"Shut up."
"All right, class," the teacher said, "it's time for lunch. Get back her in thirty minutes . . . sharp." The children burst out of the room quickly, anxious to escape the stuff classroom; all except Alex, who simply stood and walked out, followed closely by Sienna.
"So, Alex," she said, batting her eyelashes. "What've you been up to lately?"
Alex shot her a glare as they went in the lunchroom, he didn't speak as he grabbed a tray and a lunchbox then headed over to a table, ignoring the girl following him around. He opened the box and retrieved the hard piece of bread inside; the food served at the school was reminiscent of a military MRE, tasteless but nutritious.
"I hate lunch," Sienna complained, "don't you? It's disgusting!"
"It's food." Alex shrugged.
"Yeah, but why does it have to be so horrible?"
Alex gritted his teeth together, glancing at her with an annoyed look in his eyes; the day passed slowly, with Sienna still following as she had since the day she transferred from another school. Alex was a fine looking boy, black hair and blue eyes, a confident attitude that attracted any young girl.
School let out in the evening, and Alex walked to HQ to visit his father briefly before going back home and waiting for him late at night; he entered, greeted pleasantly by the officers there.
"Is Dad still in his office?" he asked the ensign at the front desk.
"I believe so," the young man replied.
Alex nodded and hurried down the hallway to the office, opening the door with a smile on his face: "Dad, I---" His face lost all color and he froze in the doorway, feeling sick to his stomach as he stared at his father slumped over his desk, papers scattered all over the room, blood stuck on his forehead from where he had bumped it when he fell.
"Dad!?" Alex cried.
He raced forward and shook the old man, Andrew made no sound and only moved under Alex's force; he rolled off the desk and fell to the floor with a loud thud, Alex jumped back in surprise and horror. "Dad . . . " He knelt and picked up his father's wrist with a trembling hand, feeling for a pulse; the hand was chilled, not the usual warmth Alex felt when he touched his father.
"Help!" he finally shouted, unable to stand and leave his father's side. "Somebody, please----I need help!" Tears blinded his vision as the reality slowly sunk in that he was now alone, with no other family.
"Alexander?" Kendall's voice came from the door as he and a few others rushed to the office. "What's going on . . . ?"
Alex looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks as Kendall walked forward, his face paling. "Get the boy out of here," he said, "now."
"No," Alex pleaded.
"Alex," Kendall said, gently, "there's nothing you can do. Go with Ensign Fuller."
The young ensign stepped forward and held out her arm, her own face filled with sorrow as he looked on. "Come on, Alex," he said, "I'll take you to the cafeteria and get you something to drink."
"I don't want something to drink!" Alex cried, staring at her in disbelief.
Kendall pressed his fingers to Andrew's neck, glancing back at the others and shaking his head, then helping Alex up and leading him to the door. "Let the others see what can be done," he said, "we'll wait outside, okay?"
Alex looked back at his father and wiped his eyes fiercely, swallowing hard as he struggled not to sob in front of the officers; Kendall wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders and they walked down the hall together.
***
"Did the general leave any instructions," Lt. Leonard Sands asked, "on what was to be done with the boy in case of his death?"
He and three other officers were meeting to discuss Alex's future, and the boy sat away from them, watching the proceedings with little interest, despite the fact that his life was about to be determined. Admirals Kendall and Fuller, Lt. Sands, and Cpt. Williams were speaking hushed tones, but Alex heard them perfectly.
"No," Kendall said, regretfully, "he didn't. But I know he wanted Alex to become a Time Force officer, I think the best place to send him would be the school I sent my own son."
"I agree," Fuller spoke up, "I knew Andrew well, he would want Alexander to have that opportunity."
"Poor boy," Williams sighed, even quieter, "to lose both parents in such a short time . . . he's holding up amazingly well, wouldn't you say?"
"Not surprising," Kendall said, "his parents loved him dearly, but they were both very strict, and not very emotional either. It's just the way his family is."
"He has no family now," Fuller said, "Alex is the last of the Collins men."
"Such a shame," Williams said, "there are none others like them. The Collins'."
Alex stood and left the cramped office quickly, desperately needing fresh air and longing to escape the dismal affairs; the day before had been his father's funeral, even worse than his mother's, no one was there to comfort him. He had stoically saluted as they fired off the old-fashioned guns in honor of the great general, just like he had at his mother's funeral; he even spoke about his father before they lowered his coffin into the ground. Nothing about him that day resembled any other 10-year-old, and nothing about him ever would again.
Across the street was a large, brick building Alex recognized immediately, without even looking at the sign: TIME FORCE ACADEMY. Where all the young recruits, ranging from ages sixteen to twenty, Time Force didn't accept anyone into the Academy that was over the age of twenty. Both his parents had gone there for two years, then attended separate schools; his mother having entered the branch of Time Force descended from the Air Force, and his father the one from the Army.
"You headed there next, young man?"
Alex turned quickly to see an elderly man seated on a bench next to him, he nodded a little: "That's what my parents did."
"Ahh . . . a family tradition, eh?"
"I guess so."
"You're too young now," the man pointed out, "plenty o' time to think it o'er."
"No," Alex said, "I'm going to be in Time Force." He took a long, unsteady breath. "That's what Mom and Dad always wanted."
Something flickered behind the old man's eyes as the realization dawned on him that the boy's parents were no longer living, he watched Alex stare up at the building as Kendall emerged from HQ and spoke: "Alex? Be ready to go by o-eight-hundred hours tomorrow, okay? I'm taking down to TFBS."
"All right," Alex said, simply.
"You'll stay with me again tonight."
Alex looked back at the man quickly before getting into the car with Kendall, he leaned his head against the window as rain began to fall and the water dripped down the sides, mirroring his despairing mood. He opened the window just a crack and allowed a few raindrops to run down his face, thankful that they disguised his tears.
TBC
You'll probably notice pretty soon that this is an extremely sad story, especially these first two chapters. Tissues ready?
***
"Andrew, really . . . you need to take it easy. You're working too hard."
"I am not. Besides, I can't stand to be around here anymore."
"Your son needs you."
"Alexander's a strong boy, he'll be fine."
Alex stood outside the living room with his back pressed to the wall, listening to the conversation between his father and Kendall. Three months had passed since his mother's death, three months that had dragged by miserably as his father buried himself deeper and deeper into his work and his 10-year-old son quietly went on with his life.
"It's not healthy," Kendall stated, "you're not a young man, Andrew. This work schedule could kill you, then what would Alex do?"
"How is Lucas?" Andrew switched the subject, "I heard you sent him to school."
"Yes, we did," Kendall said, "figured it was for his own good, it's an excellent school."
"It is," Andrew said, "but your son is only eight."
"Oh, he comes home quite often."
Alex sighed quietly and headed outside into the cool air to complete his morning work-out that his father insisted he keep up, he knelt on the grass and positioned himself, then raised his body up using only his arms.
"One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . "
He counted off each push-up quietly for what felt like an eternity, his arms strained and ached, demanding to be rested, but he ignored them and pushed them with all his will. A moment later, Kendall appeared outside, shortly followed by his father, headed off to work.
"Don't be late for school, Alexander," Andrew warned.
"Of course not," Alex said, jumping to his feet.
"You're going to grow to be one strong boy, aren't you?" Kendall said, smiling pleasantly.
Alex raised one eyebrow in what looked to be a skeptical expression, then stood still for a moment, as if wondering what to do next. Andrew glanced at his old-fashioned watch, a prize in the Collins family, and gestured quickly to Kendall: "It's time to go. I need to hurry or I'll be that one late."
Alex leaned against the railing of their front porch and watched his father and the admiral hop into their vehicles and fly off, his arms folded across his chest; his blue eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly as the cars disappeared around the corner to Time Force HQ. Oddly, an ancient saying came back to him as he saw his father's car retreating down the street, an old Irish taboo:
"Never watch someone out of sight, if you do you'll never see them again."
He shuddered involuntarily, still suffering from the unexpected death of one of his parents, and Adm. Kendall's words echoing in his mind: "This work schedule could kill you . . ." He went back inside to get ready for school, alone again in a house that could serve as a home for twenty people; a quick glance at the clock alerted him that he only had ten minutes, but he was unconcerned.
His thoughts were on everything but school as he sat in the classroom and half-listened to the ramblings of their Xybrian teacher. History class. They were studying the developement of humans on Earth in the early 21st Century, of little or no interest to the students pretending to listen; nearly 1,000 years in the past, even before Time Force.
"Bio-Lab," the teacher spoke, "was key in the developement of Time Force. It was created by . . . Alex, can you tell us?"
Alex looked up. "Alan Collins."
"Correct," the teacher said, smiling, "and when Alan Collins passed away, his son Wesley took over. Also key were the . . . Tom?"
"Gold Guardians?"
'Silver Guardians, you idiot,' Alex scolded silently. The teacher corrected his mistaken pupil aloud, then continued: "Yes. The same company that brought the Lightspeed Operation, created the Silver Guardians to protect the city of Silver Hills. Eventually, it was taken over by Eric Myers, whose great-great-great-grandson expanded the Guardians and renamed it . . . Sienna?"
The pretty, dark-haired girl frowned, looking around the room for a moment before answering: "Time Force?"
"Correct."
Alex sat next to her and rolled his eyes, leaning in closer to whisper: "Lucky guess."
"Shut up."
"All right, class," the teacher said, "it's time for lunch. Get back her in thirty minutes . . . sharp." The children burst out of the room quickly, anxious to escape the stuff classroom; all except Alex, who simply stood and walked out, followed closely by Sienna.
"So, Alex," she said, batting her eyelashes. "What've you been up to lately?"
Alex shot her a glare as they went in the lunchroom, he didn't speak as he grabbed a tray and a lunchbox then headed over to a table, ignoring the girl following him around. He opened the box and retrieved the hard piece of bread inside; the food served at the school was reminiscent of a military MRE, tasteless but nutritious.
"I hate lunch," Sienna complained, "don't you? It's disgusting!"
"It's food." Alex shrugged.
"Yeah, but why does it have to be so horrible?"
Alex gritted his teeth together, glancing at her with an annoyed look in his eyes; the day passed slowly, with Sienna still following as she had since the day she transferred from another school. Alex was a fine looking boy, black hair and blue eyes, a confident attitude that attracted any young girl.
School let out in the evening, and Alex walked to HQ to visit his father briefly before going back home and waiting for him late at night; he entered, greeted pleasantly by the officers there.
"Is Dad still in his office?" he asked the ensign at the front desk.
"I believe so," the young man replied.
Alex nodded and hurried down the hallway to the office, opening the door with a smile on his face: "Dad, I---" His face lost all color and he froze in the doorway, feeling sick to his stomach as he stared at his father slumped over his desk, papers scattered all over the room, blood stuck on his forehead from where he had bumped it when he fell.
"Dad!?" Alex cried.
He raced forward and shook the old man, Andrew made no sound and only moved under Alex's force; he rolled off the desk and fell to the floor with a loud thud, Alex jumped back in surprise and horror. "Dad . . . " He knelt and picked up his father's wrist with a trembling hand, feeling for a pulse; the hand was chilled, not the usual warmth Alex felt when he touched his father.
"Help!" he finally shouted, unable to stand and leave his father's side. "Somebody, please----I need help!" Tears blinded his vision as the reality slowly sunk in that he was now alone, with no other family.
"Alexander?" Kendall's voice came from the door as he and a few others rushed to the office. "What's going on . . . ?"
Alex looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks as Kendall walked forward, his face paling. "Get the boy out of here," he said, "now."
"No," Alex pleaded.
"Alex," Kendall said, gently, "there's nothing you can do. Go with Ensign Fuller."
The young ensign stepped forward and held out her arm, her own face filled with sorrow as he looked on. "Come on, Alex," he said, "I'll take you to the cafeteria and get you something to drink."
"I don't want something to drink!" Alex cried, staring at her in disbelief.
Kendall pressed his fingers to Andrew's neck, glancing back at the others and shaking his head, then helping Alex up and leading him to the door. "Let the others see what can be done," he said, "we'll wait outside, okay?"
Alex looked back at his father and wiped his eyes fiercely, swallowing hard as he struggled not to sob in front of the officers; Kendall wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders and they walked down the hall together.
***
"Did the general leave any instructions," Lt. Leonard Sands asked, "on what was to be done with the boy in case of his death?"
He and three other officers were meeting to discuss Alex's future, and the boy sat away from them, watching the proceedings with little interest, despite the fact that his life was about to be determined. Admirals Kendall and Fuller, Lt. Sands, and Cpt. Williams were speaking hushed tones, but Alex heard them perfectly.
"No," Kendall said, regretfully, "he didn't. But I know he wanted Alex to become a Time Force officer, I think the best place to send him would be the school I sent my own son."
"I agree," Fuller spoke up, "I knew Andrew well, he would want Alexander to have that opportunity."
"Poor boy," Williams sighed, even quieter, "to lose both parents in such a short time . . . he's holding up amazingly well, wouldn't you say?"
"Not surprising," Kendall said, "his parents loved him dearly, but they were both very strict, and not very emotional either. It's just the way his family is."
"He has no family now," Fuller said, "Alex is the last of the Collins men."
"Such a shame," Williams said, "there are none others like them. The Collins'."
Alex stood and left the cramped office quickly, desperately needing fresh air and longing to escape the dismal affairs; the day before had been his father's funeral, even worse than his mother's, no one was there to comfort him. He had stoically saluted as they fired off the old-fashioned guns in honor of the great general, just like he had at his mother's funeral; he even spoke about his father before they lowered his coffin into the ground. Nothing about him that day resembled any other 10-year-old, and nothing about him ever would again.
Across the street was a large, brick building Alex recognized immediately, without even looking at the sign: TIME FORCE ACADEMY. Where all the young recruits, ranging from ages sixteen to twenty, Time Force didn't accept anyone into the Academy that was over the age of twenty. Both his parents had gone there for two years, then attended separate schools; his mother having entered the branch of Time Force descended from the Air Force, and his father the one from the Army.
"You headed there next, young man?"
Alex turned quickly to see an elderly man seated on a bench next to him, he nodded a little: "That's what my parents did."
"Ahh . . . a family tradition, eh?"
"I guess so."
"You're too young now," the man pointed out, "plenty o' time to think it o'er."
"No," Alex said, "I'm going to be in Time Force." He took a long, unsteady breath. "That's what Mom and Dad always wanted."
Something flickered behind the old man's eyes as the realization dawned on him that the boy's parents were no longer living, he watched Alex stare up at the building as Kendall emerged from HQ and spoke: "Alex? Be ready to go by o-eight-hundred hours tomorrow, okay? I'm taking down to TFBS."
"All right," Alex said, simply.
"You'll stay with me again tonight."
Alex looked back at the man quickly before getting into the car with Kendall, he leaned his head against the window as rain began to fall and the water dripped down the sides, mirroring his despairing mood. He opened the window just a crack and allowed a few raindrops to run down his face, thankful that they disguised his tears.
TBC