Time for more Brotherhood zaniness. Well, maybe not in this chapter but definitely in later ones. Each chapter is more like an individual story and so they don't completely tie in together and yet at the same time, they kind of do. Basically this is just a bunch of short stories about how the typical day in Haven works. I hope I didn't make this first chapter too boring.

Once again I will state that I do not own Knuckles or the Brotherhood.


Locke sat in front of the surveillance monitors grumbling. He had been recording a journal entry into the recorder Spectre gave him and all he could think of was how insane his grandfather was. As if recording their daily activities and personal feelings on a regular basis was going to improve anything around Haven. Add in the fact that Locke didn't much care for voicing his opinions about certain things that happened around the insane asylum he called home, and it was no wonder why he hated the idea. It wasn't that he didn't have a few choice words to describe how things around Haven worked, he just didn't want anyone finding out about them. Being the youngest one in Haven had it's drawbacks and one of them was that he wasn't taken very seriously. If anything, he was still treated like a child by everyone in the Brotherhood, with the exception of Athair and sometimes his father, and his ideas were always put down or shoved to the side.

"What the hell do I say in this thing?" Locke muttered in frustration to the recorder in front of him. "It's not like anything exciting happens with me. I wake up, shower, eat something, and then park my keister right in front of the surveillance monitors for the rest of the day."

Locke sighed and glanced up at the screens before him. Nothing was going with Knuckles and the city and so he decided to change to something more worthwhile. He pressed a button and Lara-Le's image came up on the screen. Locke smiled warmly at the site of his ex-wife. She was still as beautiful as ever with her dark fur and emerald green eyes. Locke sighed as memories came back to him. Memories of his hands running over her soft fur, kissing her, holding her warm body close to his. Pain and regret always filled his heart whenever he watched her. If only he had remained in contact with her, perhaps allow her to have more of an influence in her son's life. But no, he had to be by the book and as a result lost her to another man.

"Oh Lara," Locke said sadly, watching as she brushed her dark hair. "If only I appreciated you more. I shouldn't be watching you like this. It breaks my heart to look at you, but I can't help it. I miss you so much. I love you. If only I could convince you to give me a another chance. But that won't happen. You have a new man in your life now." Locke growled as he thought about Wynmacher, Lara-Le's new husband. He wasn't a bad guy and he treated Lara well but Locke just couldn't stand the thought of another man being with the woman he loved so much.

"Mr. I'm-a-college-athlete-who's-so-sensitive-to-women's-needs," Locke said jealously. "I don't know what she sees in him. Not that I'm jealous of course." Locke continued on, unaware that he was talking to himself. "The Brotherhood would give me hell if they knew I watched you like this. They keep insisting that I get over you and move on, just like you have. But you couldn't have moved on that easily, could you? I wasn't that easy to push aside, was I?"

Locke looked down at the control panel in front of him. He knew he was doing himself emotional harm by continuing his voyeurism but he couldn't help himself. He knew Spectre would kill him if he found out he was watching his wife more than the island. Not that anyone was able to catch him. Locke had quick reflexes and could change the monitors before anyone knew what was going on. The only exception to the rule was Archimedes and that was because Locke couldn't account for the fire ant's sudden appearances. He knew Archimedes wouldn't talk though. He threatened to eat the little insect if he did.

"I really like that nightgown," Locke said. No doubt his fathers would wonder about his sanity if they heard him talking to himself but Locke always tended to wander into another world when it involved Lara-Le. He smiled as she began to undress. "I guess I caught her before she was getting ready to shower. I suppose I better-"

As he looked away, finger on the buttons to change the screen, Locke saw the recorder and saw that it was still running. Son of a… Locke began cursing silently as he reached for the recorder and turned it off. He remembered Spectre mentioning that he might look into these journals to make sure everyone was keeping them properly. I can't afford to have him finding out what I just said. Locke turned the thing over and over but he couldn't find a rewind button or anything to use to edit his entry. There wasn't even a way to open the thing to get to the CD inside without having to do some major tinkering. Now he knew Spectre was up to no good. He had to be. In desperation he turned the recorder back on.

"I do not watch my wife undress, shower, or do anything personal. I mean it. I do have some integrity," Locke insisted into the machine. He waited a couple seconds before adding "I'm serious." in the strongest voice he could manage. Locke sighed and turned off the recorder. Spectre would give him no end of trouble if he heard this. Maybe he could hide the thing to keep Spectre from finding it. He could always say he lost it or broke it or something. Not that Spectre would buy it, not with Locke being the mechanic that he was. Locke shoved the recorder to the side with a growl and turned his attention back to the monitors, which were now focused once again on Knuckles and his friends.


Thunderhawk tossed his recorder nonchalantly across the room. He tried to record an entry but there was nothing to say. Nothing that was worth his time anyway. I'm too old for this frivolous crap. My father has completely lost his mind. Thunderhawk had been thinking that his father, Spectre, was getting too old to run things properly in Haven and this latest idea of his convinced Thunderhawk that his father needed to step down and retire in some form. The fact that fire ants encouraged Spectre's idea only made it worse. He never cared much for the council anyway, always encouraging them to involve themselves in the affairs of those other than echidnas. That was something the busybodies in the Acorn Kingdom could bother with as far as he was concerned.

Thunderhawk sighed and got up from his chair. He hated being bored. Perhaps I'll go see what my son is up to.


Sabre sighed as he walked down the corridors to the surveillance room. He had just finished making a journal entry and he personally thought it was a wonderful idea. It was expected that everyone else would complain about it. Thunderhawk and Sojourner complained about everything and anything and keeping track of one's own personal feelings was something Locke was never very good at.

Sabre shook his head as he thought about his son. Locke was far too serious for his own good. He used to be a lot more carefree. He used to really enjoy life. That all changed after the divorce. It had caught Locke completely off guard. Sabre guessed that his son must of thought that Lara-Le would be perfectly understanding and would accept the terms of being the wife of a Guardian, just like his mother had. Locke had tried desperately to explain to Lara that she was over reacting, that everything had to be done the way it was for a reason and that she just didn't understand. Lara-Le argued otherwise. Locke relented and agreed to the divorce and it broke his heart.

Since then Locke seemed to lose his love for life. He became so serious, rarely ever laughing, rarely ever leaving Haven for a breath of fresh air. Sabre knew that Locke's workaholic nature was his way of dealing with his pain. Avoiding it is more like it.

Sabre didn't want to see Locke grow up into a miserable old man. His son was still young enough to enjoy life to it's very fullest and he'd be damned if he was going to allow Locke to waste his life away in surveillance.

The same sight greeted Sabre as he walked through the doors to the surveillance room. The screens were watching different areas of the island, one of the larger ones on Knuckles and his friends, with Locke sitting in the chair.

"Really, Locke, you need to get out more," Sabre said as he approached his son.

"Yes father," Locke replied, repressing a long suffering sigh. Here we go again.

"Don't give me any of that attitude Locke," Sabre said firmly. "I'm being very serious and the fact that you refuse to take me seriously is beginning to irritate me."

"I am taking you seriously," Locke insisted, not taking his eyes from the screens. "I just don't think it's a good idea for me to be away from my work for too long."

"Of course it is. In case you haven't noticed there are other echidnas here, besides me, that can take over. Haven isn't going to fall apart if you take a few hours for yourself every now and then."

"I know that father, but what do you wish me to do?"

"Find a hobby, one that doesn't involve machines. Go outside and get some fresh air every once in a while. Go to the city and mingle with people."

Locke closed his eyes and sighed. He and his father had this conversation every week. He wished to Aurora that his father would get off his back and stop nagging him.

"Turn around and look at me Locke."

Locke knew disobeying his father now would only elongate this annoying conversation. He turned in his chair to face his displeased relative.

"I'm getting tired of arguing with you Locke," Sabre said.

"Then stop doing so," Locke replied. "I'm just fine father. Now please stop nagging me."

"You are not fine," Sabre insisted. It was times like this that he thanked Edmund that he was so patient by nature. He would have strangled his child by now if he wasn't. "Sitting in here all the time, watching over the island, never associating with anyone. You're young still and have plenty of prime years to enjoy life. I know you have a hard time dealing with your own feelings Locke but it's never too late to start trying."

"I'll take it under advisement father," Locke replied.

Sabre inhaled deeply to keep his composure. That's how Locke always ended these conversations. I'll take it under advisement. Take it under advisement indeed.

"And when, pray tell, do you intend to follow my advice?" Sabre asked with a frown.

"When I'm ready to," Locke replied, wishing his father would go away and leave him alone.

"Go," Sabre said as he grabbed his son by the arm. "I'll take over surveillance. Go outside and get some sun."

"I suppose I should dance around and sing and frolic through the flowers as well," Locke said sarcastically.

"It'd be a nice change of pace," Sabre said firmly. He still had a tight hold on Locke's arm.

"I'm fine where I am," Locke growled. He struggled to release his arm from his father's grip but Sabre wouldn't yield. "I'm just fine," Locke said again, this time a little more softly.

"If you insist," Sabre replied, disappointment in his tone as he released his hold on Locke's arm. There was no use in arguing with his son. Nothing short of force was going to get Locke out of Haven and away from his work.

He left the surveillance room, unaware of the melancholy look on his son's face. Sabre didn't know why he bothered sometimes. I should just pack him a bag and kick his tail out of Haven for a month. The idea sounded better and better by the second and Sabre decided it was time he had a talk with Spectre.


Sojourner sat quietly in the conference room, his legs on the table, enjoying his magazine.
His recorder sat abandoned in his room, having decided that there was no need for him to bother with such a ridiculous thing. Spectre was sure to get on his case about it but until then, Sojourner was happy devoting his time to things he felt were more deserving of his attention. The sound of the door opening behind him startled him and he about had a heart attack when he heard his father's voice.

"Sojourner, what are you doing?" Thunderhawk asked. Sojourner was sitting in a high backed chair, facing away from him, and Thunderhawk watched in mild curiosity as Sojourner's arms and legs flailed about in what Thunderhawk assumed was surprise.

Sojourner quickly hid his magazine under the pile of papers he had in front of him. The last thing he needed was for the king of all prudes to see what he was reading. He willed himself to calm done before he turned around to face his father, who was now looking at him suspiciously.

"You startled me father," Sojourner said, smiling nervously. "I was reading some reports, enjoying the peace and quiet for a change."

"Really now," Thunderhawk replied, noting his son's nervous expression. He son was up to something, he knew it. "And just what were we reading about?"

"Just going over some of the reports in regards to events happening in Albion."

"Any reason why?"

"What, I need a reason now?" Sojourner replied with a pout. There was only one way to get his father to leave him alone. "Don't you ever trust me? I was merely taking an interest in our fellow echidnas on that lonely island. I know you think I'm too lazy to care about anything other than the land I was assigned to watch but that's not always true." Thunderhawk rolled his eyes. He hated it when his son started in on a whining streak.

"No one here trusts me at all," Sojourner continued, determined not lose momentum. "No one here thinks I'm capable of working. I'm lazy. I whine. I'm afraid of hard work. I don't do anything useful around here at all. I might as well slit my wrists-"

"Enough!" Thunderhawk bellowed. "Is that all you ever do is whine? I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"Oh," Sojourner replied. "I'm doing fine."

Thunderhawk sighed in a big display of exasperation. "Forget I was ever here." He turned and walked out of the room leaving Sojourner alone again.

Sojourner breathed a sigh of relief. He hated whining like that because of the reputation it gave him amongst his family but he couldn't fault it's effectiveness. A whining streak was the best way to get rid of anyone if he wanted to be left alone, especially if his father or Spectre was bothering him, and he wasn't about to stop using that tactic now. Sojourner turned back around and gathered up the papers as well as his magazines. He had to remember that the only true place for privacy in Haven was in his own room. His throat screamed for something to drink as he left the conference room. Maybe he'd try one of those cappuccinos Spectre and Locke liked so much.


Spectre was sitting quietly in the meditation chamber. He had expected some degree of resistance when he proposed his journal idea. He knew the fire ants would support them whole heartedly but they always supported something that could result in bettering the Brotherhood as a whole. They were so much like Athair in that regard. Sabre went along with the idea much to Spectre's surprise but then he was one probably the most sensible of all his sons. Locke would make recordings, albeit with much reluctance. It was Thunderhawk and Sojourner he'd have to work with. Under normal circumstances Spectre wouldn't have considered such an idea but getting the Brotherhood to be honest about anything, especially about how they felt individually, was harder than trying to get Athair to lay off the sugar. It was during a particularly interesting group discussion that Spectre had even come up with the idea. However getting ideas for how to improve the brotherhood wasn't his motivation for all of this. No, the real purpose was to find out what was really going around Haven. Since no one ever came forth to talk about anything, Spectre hoped he could catch slip ups here and there through the journals. He knew things weren't always kosher in Haven and these journals might be the best way to find any problems. If nothing else, the journals might be good for a laugh or two.

The sound of a door opening brought Spectre out of his thoughts and the black furred echidna looked up to Sabre walk in. Sabre looked serious as always did but there was something about his manner that told Spectre that something was weighing on his grandson's mind and he had a feeling he knew what it was. Locke.

"I take it you have something bothering you," Spectre said as he rose from the floor.

"Yes grandfather," Sabre said. It never ceased to amaze him how easily Spectre could pick up on what was going on with him and anyone else in the Brotherhood.

"Let me guess, Locke is being difficult again?"

Sabre smiled wryly. "How did you know?"

"Let's just say it's become the norm around here," Spectre replied. "I don't know why you bother. You know how stubborn Locke can be and if he hasn't changed his mind by now it's likely he never will."

"I know grandfather, but I just can't allow my son to do this to himself. He's hurting himself and he doesn't even realize it."

"It's his choice Sabre. Let him deal with the consequences of it."

"I know, but…"

Spectre smiled sadly at his grandchild as Sabre trailed off.Sabre loved Locke so deeply that he kept putting himself through the torture of trying to talksome common sense into his stubborn childon a continual basis. It was endearing really.

"I'm thinking of kicking Locke out of Haven for a while grandfather," Sabre said. Spectre looked at Sabre with an amused grin. He had heard Sabre say that line many times before. However, his grin faded quickly when he realized that Sabre was being deadly serious this time.

"And what would you have him do?" Spectre asked, curious as to whether Sabre would actually follow through on his idea.

"I was thinking of sending him to the city. I think it'd do him some good to interact with other people again."

"Sabre, this is Locke we're talking about here. Interacting with people has never been one of Locke's strong points."

"Which is why this the perfect opportunity for him to work on those skills."

"I don't foresee Locke lasting very long. If anything he'll go mad and run off to some remote place on the island to hide away from it all."

"Not if I don't let him. Please Spectre, this would be a wonderful chance for Locke to come out of his shell," Sabre persisted.

"Like that will ever happen," Thunderhawk grumbled. Spectre and Sabre turned to face the newcomer. "The boy's more likely to close himself off even more from the world than embrace it."

Sabre gave his grandfather a cold stare. Thunderhawk was always complaining about Locke and Knuckles. He felt his lavender furred grandfather had no room to speak considering the way Sojourner turned out.

"I think Locke will have it difficult the first few days but he'll adjust," Sabre said.

"I don't see why this is such a big deal," Thunderhawk said. "Let Locke do his duties. At least it keeps him out of trouble."

"I don't recall him ever getting into trouble to begin with," Sabre replied.

"In all honesty Sabre, I don't imagine Locke will do much of anything if you left him in the city for a month," Spectre said. It wasn't often he agreed with Thunderhawk and as much as he hated to admit it, his son was right about Locke.

"But grandfather," Sabre said, turning to face Spectre. "I was thinking Locke could find himself another wife."

"What?" Thunderhawk said, flabbergasted. Spectre was caught equally off guard. Sabre decided to continue on while the two were stunned silent.

"His wife remarried and she seems happy. Locke is young enough that such an option isn't out of the question for him. Perhaps some companionship is what my son needs."

Sabre waited patiently for his words to sink in. He expected to be argued with once his grandfathers got over the initial shock at his words and he was prepared to defend his stance. What he wasn't prepared for was the reaction he did receive. Thunderhawk and Spectre exchanged glances, looked at Sabre's serious face, and looked at each other again before roaring with laughter. Sabre glared at the two men, thoroughly displeased with both. He stood there, fuming, while his grandfathers laughed for the next several minutes.

"That's a good one Sabre," Spectre said, patting his grandson on the shoulder. "I thought you were serious there for a moment."

"I am being serious," Sabre growled. He had half a mind to bang both men's heads together in hopes of knocking some sense into both of them.

"Really now Sabre," Thunderhawk said, tears still in his eyes. "You know how Locke is. He couldn't court a woman to save his life. If it weren't for the Soultouch, he'd never get married."

"In all seriousness Sabre," Spectre said, having now regained his composure. "Locke still has feelings for his ex-wife. I see him spending more time trying to get close to her than finding a new mate."

"But he knows she's married again. Why on earth would he want to torture himself by getting close to her?" Sabre asked.

"Because he has a hard time letting go of the past, that's why," Spectre replied. "Having him spend time in the same city as Lara-Le will just do more harm than good. Locke simply isn't mature enough to handle a relationship."

"How do you figure grandfather?" Sabre asked coldly.

"Come now boy," Thunderhawk said. "Locke still behaves like a child half the time and he isn't always good at owning up to his responsibilities."

"And I suppose you're an expert in that field," Sabre said harshly. Thunderhawk growled in response.

"Stop it," Spectre said firmly. "Arguing about this isn't going to solve the problem. Sabre, for now I suggest you leave Locke alone. I think some time away from Haven would do him some good but until we figure out what will work best for him, leave him be."

Sabre sighed and nodded in acquiescence. He had hoped to do something about Locke but he had completely forgotten about Lara-Le. He was going to have to think of a better way to get Locke out of Haven. A sudden crash and a shout was heard from down the hall.

"Was that Sojourner?" Sabre asked.

"What did my son do now?" Thunderhawk asked with a sigh.


Sojourner glared hatefully at the broken machine on the floor. Leave it to Locke to make these machines impossible to operate. All he wanted was a simple cappuccino and the damn contraption wouldn't cooperate. Locke probably designed it so only he and Spectre could have cappuccinos. The door to the kitchen opens and Spectre, Sabre, and Thunderhawk all walked in. Spectre was about to ask his son what happened when Locke came running in.

"I heard a crash," Locke said as he squeezed past his fathers. "What on Mobius ha-" He stopped short at the site of the cappuccino maker on the floor. "What did you do to my machine?" Locke ran to the broken machine and kneeled down. He picked up the pieces, his anguish increasing with each piece he touched. The rest of the Brotherhood watched, allowing Locke to grieve for a few minutes like he always did when one of his inventions broke.

"I only wanted to try a cappuccino," Sojourner mumbled.

"Well breaking the machine isn't going to make one for you," Locke replied, shooting an angry look at his grandfather.

"Well maybe if you made your machines easier to use, I wouldn't have broken it," Sojourner shot back.

"Maybe if you learned how to ask for help with things you don't know how to use nothing would break in the first place," Locke retorted.

"My son has a point," Thunderhawk said, earning a grin from Sojourner and looks of surprise from everyone else. Thunderhawk rarely ever agreed with his son. "If things in this place would work properly this wouldn't be a problem. You're supposed to be a mechanical genius here Locke."

"Of course grandfather, everything here is my fault," Locke growled. "Has it ever occurred to you that I can't control everything that goes on around here? What the hell do you expect from me?"

"A little more respect for starters," Thunderhawk replied.

"That's enough grandfather," Sabre said sternly. "It's not fair for you to blame Locke for everything that breaks around here and in case you haven't noticed Sojourner's the one who broke it. He threw it to the ground and it's little difficult for a machine like that to withstand that kind of abuse."

Locke gave his father a grateful smile. Despite his constant nagging, he could rely on his father to come to his defense when needed.

"I still say you should have made it easier to use," Sojourner said, giving the machine a kick with his foot. Locke swatted at the offending appendage before returning to gather up the pieces.

Spectre, meanwhile,was simply staring at the broken machine on the floor in shock. He loved cappuccinos. Ever since Knuckles brought some back for the Brotherhood to try one day he couldn't get enough of the stuff. Those caramel mocha delights with whipped cream were heavenly. With the machine now broken he couldn't have one whenever he wanted and he was so heartbroken that he didn't hear Sabre call his name. By now Locke had collected all the pieces and had the cappuccino maker on the table, looking it over to determine to full extent of the damage. Spectre walked forward in silence. Why? Why this machine?

"Father?" Thunderhawk said, completely confused by his father's behavior. Stunned silence wasn't something Spectre displayed on a regular basis. Sojourner walked over to where his father was, wanting to keep his distance from Spectre. He was always nervous when his grandfather behaved in any kind of bizarre manner.

"It's all right grandfather," Sabre said soothingly as he approached the table. "I'm sure Locke can get it fixed in no time. You'll be enjoying your cappuccinos again before you know it."

"I don't know what he sees in those things," Thunderhawk snorted. "All froth and no real flavor. Give me a cup of straight black coffee any day of the week."

Spectre put his hands on the broken machine, touching it gently, afraid he'd damage it even more than it already had been. "It can be fixed Locke?" Spectre whispered.

"Yes grandfather," Locke replied. "I can fix it." Ever since he discovered how much Spectre loved cappuccinos, he built the best cappuccino maker he could, knowing that a happy Spectre was a Spectre that didn't come hunting for your death every time you did something he didn't like. That and Locke rather liked cappuccinos himself.

"Good," Spectre said with a sigh of relief. "How long before it's fixed?"

Locke gulped. He was afraid to give Spectre an answer to that question because he knew his grandfather would turn homicidal the second he told him.

"Locke?" Spectre prompted.

"Considering the damage done grandfather, I'd say it'll take a couple days." Locke risked a peek at his grandfather's face. Spectre had completely frozen up, struck so hard by the news that he was still in process of absorbing it.

"Is he going to be alright?" Sojourner asked.

The sound of Sojourner's voice snapped Spectre back into reality. He turned his head slowly, his eyes almost glowing in anger, toglare at echidna responsible for denying him his caramel delights for the next forty-eight hours. Sojourner regretted opening his mouth in an instant and Thunderhawk was immediately on the defensive.

"Now father," Thunderhawk said calmly. "It was an accident. Just a fit of temper. Locke said he could fix the machine so no harm was truly done."

Spectre continued to glare at Sojourner, a fire continuing to burn within him.

"Son," Thunderhawk said quietly to the echidna next to him. "Run."

Sojourner didn't need to be told twice. He turned tail and ran out of the room so quickly that he was out the door before it had a chance to fully open. Spectre took off after Sojourner the second the younger male made his move and ran so quickly that Thunderhawk barely had time to move out of the way. Thunderhawk peeked his head out the door to watch as Sojourner and Spectre ran down the halls, the former screaming at the top of his lungs. Locke and Sabre joined their grandfather at the door to watch as the two echidnas disappeared down the hall.

"And I thought the hedgehog was fast," Locke said.

"Let me just say that I have never seen my son run so quickly in my entire life," Thunderhawk replied. "Spectre either for that matter."


It was hours later and things were relatively quiet in Haven again. Spectre was still in a bad mood and he shut himself up in his room to avoid having to deal with anyone else for the day. Sojourner was in his room recovering from his grandfather's rage earlier. Spectre threatened to have Sojourner suffer all kinds of horrible fates, from cleaning the Echidnopolis sewers with a broom to acting as a mime on a street corner for spare change. Spectre had gone so far as to threaten to give him to the Dark Legion for a week to do whatever they pleased with him. The foot sized bruise on his bottom didn't make him feel much better either.

Thunderhawk decided it was better to stay out of sight himself and Sabre was who knew where. That left Locke all alone again in the surveillance room, the way he usually preferred it. It was late evening now and Locke was bored out of his mind. Knuckles was in his quarters reading and so he didn't need to be monitored anymore. He turned the monitors over to watch Lara-Le, who was now cuddling with Wynmacher.

"Do you have to do that every night?" Locke growled at the screen. He watched the two love birds jealously until clothes started to come off. Locke changed the channel very quickly.

He scanned the city, finally finding Remington out on another patrol, chasing more criminals. He watched for a little while as he hopped into Harry's cab to pursue the fugitives. While the witty banter exchanged between the echidna and the dingo was usually amusing, Locke found he wasn't in the mood for it tonight. Maybe I should just take my father's advice for a change and turn in early.

Locke turned off the surveillance cameras, got up and stretched. He knew he should probably start work on the cappuccino maker but he wasn't in the mood. He could start work the next morning after a good night's rest. Work on the machine and back to more surveillance duty. Not like there's much else for me to do. Locke sighed. What a life.