Disclaimer: I do not own the Brotherhood, Knuckles, Lara-Le and Wynmacher. Here is the final chapter of "Stormy Anniversary"; its sequel "A Time for Change" certainly won't be a humoristic one. You'll be warned.
Chapter Seven: Game Over
As soon as the door of the elevator opened with a hiss, a black blur bolted out of it in a flash. Spectre had to wonder when in his life he had run that fast, but he brushed the thought off as he raced in the corridors to his bedroom. The faster I get away from these psychos, the better! he thought as he literally threw himself in his room and closed the door, leaning against it as he panted to catch his breath.
Knuckles stuck his head out of the elevator, one quizzical eyebrow raised. "Is he always like that?" he asked.
"You have no idea," Thunderhawk sighed as he stepped in the elevator bay. Sabre sighed and Locke simply nodded as the others stepped out as well. "I just hope I won't be that strange when I grow older." Sojourner was about to say that he already was, when Thunderhawk elbowed him in the ribs.
They were finally arrived at Haven – with some difficulties from Athair who refused to go in the forest because "the bad monsters are hiding there!" All it took was a little persuasion from Spectre, and off they were through the trees. And into the underground complex; Knuckles saw his departing relative as an opportunity.
"Well, seeing as old boring Grandfather Spectre is gone," Knuckles grinned, "how about we play a game?"
"Oh, funny!" Athair exclaimed, clapping his hands. "I like games!"
"Then you will love this one."
"What is it about?" Thunderhawk asked suspiciously. He had learned that the word "game" could be very dangerous when it came from his sixth son's mouth. Or any other thing for that matter.
"It's called Truth or Dare," Knuckles said, smirking creepily. "You ask any player you want to choose between answering a question, and accomplishing a dare. When his or her turn is over, he or she asks a question to someone or dare someone to do something and so on." The young Guardian looked at his puzzled relatives. "Who wants to play?"
All seven echidnas settled down in the conference room – that was the only place where they could find chairs, besides the kitchen. Knuckles got up and all eyes turned to him. "Since I proposed the game, it is normal I do the honors. Let's see, what about… well, Grandfather Thunderhawk." He grinned in a creepy way, which made Locke shudder. "Truth or Dare?"
"Is it a trick question?" the lavender one asked, eyebrow raised.
"I'm the one asking questions here. So, Truth or Dare?" Knuckles growled.
Thunderhawk thought fast – well, fast enough considering the others times. "Truth," he chose wisely, thinking it would be best to start with something easy. And also, with Knuckles asking, it was safer that way. Or maybe he was just being a coward; maybe…
The red Guardian seemed lost in thought for a few seconds, then grinned the same blood-freezing way as earlier. "So… tell us all about your worst fear."
Is that all you have in store, Sixth son? "I have none."
"Hey, you said "Truth"! You have to be honest!" Knuckles protested, not believing in the least that his lavender relative has never been afraid of anything. "Okay, maybe not your worst permanent fear, but at least a moment in your life!"
Thunderhawk dug into his memories, arms crossed in front of his chest. "Let's see… a moment in my life when I've been afraid… well, there's that time when three years-old Sojourner tripped downstairs and crashed against the wall. Yes, I've been dead scared then."
Sojourner shot his father a broad smile. "Aw, does this mean you cared for me?" Not waiting for an answer Sojourner hugged his father lovingly.
Thunderhawk pushed him away, irritated. "No, you fool, I was afraid you'd made a hole in the wall! These things take forever to fix!" he exclaimed as Sojourner glared darkly at him.
"I love you too, Father."
"Speak for yourself."
"Please don't start an argument," Knuckles said. "Okay, Sixth father, it's your turn. Pick someone up."
Thunderhawk grinned and motioned to Sojourner. "Son, Truth or Dare?"
Was the moon in a bad angle this evening, causing the red echidna to go insane, or maybe he wanted to seem courageous, because Sojourner answered: "Dare." He grinned, proud of himself. He had just volunteered to do something his father hadn't had the guts to do. Something to throw in his face next time we fight.
Thunderhawk grinned as well. "That's what I thought…" Sojourner gulped down, now slightly afraid of whatever his father has planned. "From Father Spectre's brain waves, I'd say he is asleep. I dare you to empty a bucket of water on my father's head," the lavender echidna cackled. "Icy cold water."
Sojourner widened his eyes. Of all the dares he could think of- "Have you really decided to kill me?" he gasped. He knew his father could prove to be way too vicious for Sojourner's own good, but never, ever the red echidna would have thought Thunderhawk could come up with something so awful!
"I do admit the idea crossed my mind once or twice," Thunderhawk said, his grin still on. "Now hurry up, unless you want me to add "banging on Spectre's head with a bucket" in your dare as well."
Sweet revenge, Thunderhawk thought as he watched his son scramble away.
During the next few minutes, nobody said a word. Locke and Lara-Le were sitting in front of each other, exchanging incredulous looks, while Knuckles stared at his hands nonchalantly. Sabre was sitting as well, shaking his head desperately as Athair walked back and forth on the ceiling, his rainbow rings-covered spines making clinking noises as they hit each others.
Then suddenly Thunderhawk lifted his head up. "Three… two… one." Just then a furious roar echoed in the corridors, so loud even the birds at the surface scattered away when they heard it. Thunderhawk grinned like mad. "He actually did it… Interesting."
Suddenly Sojourner ran in the room, panting and sweating profusely. "I will never, ever do something like that again!" he gasped, collapsing on a chair. "You can't even imagine what a waking Spectre looks like! I knew the water was way too cold. Now he's probably hunting for my blood!" Sojourner shivered, cowering on his chair as Thunderhawk chuckled, amused.
Athair smiled broadly at the sight below, which unnerved Sojourner. "Guess it's my turn, now. Well, Second son, Truth or Dare?" he asked while glaring at Athair.
The flying echidna landed on the table, sitting cross-legged on it and thinking. "Well, since I've never kept anything from you… I'd say Dare!" he announced cheerfully.
Sojourner grinned. "Very well, I expected you to choose so… Now listen. I dare you to find Spectre, and-"
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Spectre literally fumed with rage as he strode in Haven's corridors, searching for his pain of a second son. He had his metallic helmet in a iron grip, with every intention to beat Sojourner to death with it. You can't hide forever, Second son. Come out!
The dark echidna froze when he heard footsteps, but when he turned around nobody was there. Now, I really think I've been around Athair for too long… but then it may be Sojourner playing tricks again. Spectre shrugged and resumed striding-
-when he felt something sticky and liquid land on his head. What the- was the only thing that came to his mind as his sight went white. He spluttered and coughed as he realized it was plain white paint that now covered his upper body.
Spectre pawed at his eyes to get the paint off of them, and he heard the pounding of running feet. Blinking, he tried to look around but nobody was to be seen. Struck by a brilliant idea – brilliant, considering how the rest of his ideas this day had been – Spectre looked up… and sure enough there was Athair, running away upside-down on the ceiling. The sight of a paint-stained bucket in his fourth son's hand enraged Spectre, who charged. "Come back here, you buffoon!" he shouted, baring his teeth and immediately spitting back white paint.
"Gotcha!" Athair cheerfully exclaimed before putting the bucket on his head as a helmet, and took off flying screaming his lungs out in order to imitate a siren. Spectre had to clasp his hands over his ears, wincing when he heard the splashing sound of paint meeting paint. Edmund help me.
He was tempted to just go wash himself up and sleep, when he heard his sweet and dearly loved fourth son's yell. "Grandfather Sojourner! I did just as you said you wanted me to do!"
Now, that's it! Grandsons or not, they were all going to pay! All of them! But I'll wait till Lara-Le leaves. After all she is just a gentle innocent soul, that shouldn't see what I'll do to them… She doesn't deserve it, poor little one. I pity her. Sighing, Spectre turned around and went to his room to think of a plan. And wash himself when he was at it.
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The "game" lasted for four hours. Since there were no windows or anything to see what was going on outside – minus the surveillance systems – nobody ever saw night has fallen rather quickly. They were so absorbed in what they were doing, from Sabre standing upside-down during ten minutes to Locke imitating a drunk Spectre – they never knew if he was right, because it has never happened before, and Sojourner proposed to verify it one of these days -, that they lost track of time as it flew by.
It was Locke who looked at his newly-built digital watch, and gasped. "Edmund, it's already 10 p.m.! It seems like we just started to play fifteen minutes ago!"
"10 p.m.?" Lara asked. "I was supposed to be home much earlier than that! Wyn must be worrying." It saddened Locke to see how she thought of Wynmacher first, but then he couldn't really blame her. No, he decided he was better off helping her.
"Here, I'll glide you home, Lara."
She looked at him as he smiled kindly. "Thank you, Locke, I'd like it."
"No problem. Just let me fetch something, and off we go!"
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It wasn't long before Locke landed in front of Lara's apartment complex, his ex-wife safely held in his strong arms. He deposited her on the ground with a smile. "Here you go, Lara."
"Thank you, Locke. Not only for this, but for all this day as well. It was wonderful," Lara said. She lightly pecked him on a cheek. "I hope we'll be able to do more things together from now, don't you?"
Locke smiled and nodded. Maybe they couldn't get back together, but at least they would do things together just as they did that day. And if it was fine by Lara, it was fine by him; his aching heart wouldn't feel so lonely, even if he wouldn't be able to fully express his love to her. "I most certainly do." His smile faded a little, replaced by a somewhat nervousness. "Before you go, there's something I want to give you."
Lara opened her mouth, meaning to tell him that the day's events were more than enough of a present when he produced a bunch of beautiful red roses from his coat. "I hope I didn't crush them too much on the way back," he said.
The brown female widened surprised and delighted eyes as Locke extended the red roses to her. He smiled almost shyly as she took the flowers and inhaled their scent. "Locke… they're beautiful," she whispered. "But how? And why? Not that I mind but today was more than enough and-" Her voice trailed off, overwhelmed by emotion.
"Well, let's say it's amazing what Athair hides in his chambers," Locke chuckled. "Among others things a garden with vegetables, fruits… and flowers. And as for your second question…" Locke bent forwards, catching Lara's lips for a quick kiss in his sudden boldness. "Let's just say this is a way I've found to say "I still love you"," he whispered in her ear.
Locke drew back, and after a last smile he kicked off and began gliding once again towards Haven. Lara just stood here, dazed as she held the red roses and stared at her ex-husband's fading away form. He has… changed.
She smiled when she remembered the day's events; how she enjoyed Locke's presence and how different he has been from the man he was several years ago. Hugging the thorns-free roses to her chest, Lara happily turned to her apartment. Once Wyn gets home I'll tell him all the things we did today! Oh I can't wait!
But her cheerful mood immediately dropped when she opened the door. There, in the middle of the living-room, a brown echidna was standing with his arms crossed.
Wynmacher was home. And he didn't look happy.
"Where have you been?" he snarled.
