Author: the tangled web we weave

Archive: yeah, if you want…but tell me, please

Review: Definitely! (Thank you to all who have!)

Disclaimer: Yeah, okay. I wish Bender was mine, but he's not. None of them are. : (

Warnings: Yeah, there's language, mentions of violence/injuries, and mentions of drugs. There's also a bunch of angsty stuff in here, and since I've been getting good reviews about that, I'll try to keep that mood going. (except when Bender really needs a break, you know?)

And here's the fourth chapter! I'm sorry for the delay, I know I said it would be posted at almost the same time as the third section, but I had to check it over once again, especially after that black out that knocked out our AC and the computer! Grrrr…. But I hope you like this one; it's got tons of that bad boy we love. And it's got plenty of Claire and Andy too - the others will probably be coming into the story soon. And, like I said, this one is heavy on angst and, sadly, there's a bunch of pain. Sorry! But I think it's necessary for his character. Now go enjoy : )

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Chapter Four: Bender's Buddies

John Bender couldn't remember a time when he was more miserable than this night. At times he had felt freezing cold, when he would shiver uncontrollably, and then it would switch, and he would suddenly feel as though he was burning up. It hurt for him to breathe, to walk, to think, and he felt almost constantly as though someone had shaken up his head and re-arranged everything inside of it. Just like that damn library file card holder he had screwed with yesterday. Earlier, he had tried smoking a little in the hopes that it would act like a painkiller, but he could hardly take a full breath without coughing painfully, let alone breathe smoke into his lungs. Besides the fact that his dope had gotten him into trouble in the first place. And there was that word, trouble! 'Enough of that, think about something else, damn brain!'

He didn't have anywhere to go, and he was supposed to be at school tomorrow. 'Well, fuck that!' He thought. 'I can't even stand up without feeling sick. It's a wonder I even managed to get here. Thanks dad! Great job, you went and killed your no-good son! Hope you're happy!" Bender laughed bitterly in his mind. He pulled his arms tighter (but not too tightly!) around his chest at the thought of his father, and the memory of what had transpired in his room. Thoughts of yesterday's detention also came to his mind, and when he had let his fellow 'prisoners' in on his family life. 'How fucking stupid could I be? I bet those pricks will go and tell half the school. Fucking detention. I wonder if the richies will give half a damn about the rest of us.' Truly, he wanted one of them to still give a damn about him, especially since he gave a damn about her, which did not happen often. He knew that Allison might talk to him - after all, she lived down close to his end of town, but he wasn't sure about Brian. Sure, Brian was a geek, but he was cool enough and all, so Bender wouldn't really mind getting to know him. Yet the two members of the Breakfast Club he was the most worried about were Sporto and the Princess. What could they have to gain from a friendship with people like Brian, Allison, and him? 'True, we have more feelings than any of the jocks or ditzes, but do I really need them as friends anyway? I've always made it by myself…' He dropped his hand lower on his chest, feeling the swollen flesh around his injured ribs through his shirts. 'Yeah, if I call drugs, stupid babes, an abusive father, and being cocky and without friends 'making it,'' he sighed inwardly. Then Bender retreated to thoughts of his life, and his home, and what it was doing to him.

Suddenly, he heard the engine of a car come to a stop and sputter out at the edge of the park, and then two car doors slammed shut. He didn't bother to lift his head up to look, because he had two ideas of who it could be. The first thought that had popped into his head was that it might be the police, who had come to get 'one of those burn outs' out of the park on a late Sunday night. And yet, his other idea was more unpleasant: that his father had gotten into a car with one of his 'beer buddies' as Bender liked to call them, and come looking for him.

'I gotta do something,' he realized. He knew that he couldn't get anywhere very fast, but it was better to try than to wait for his father or the police to come and drag him off the bench. He could make out two sets of footsteps now, and he realized he didn't have much time to think before they reached him. 'I could really use a head-start tonight,' Bender thought ruefully. So he relinquished his right hand's grip around his chest, and after fumbling for the back of the bench, he unsteadily pushed himself to his feet. He gritted his teeth, and grimaced (as much as was possible with his swollen nose and cheeks), dismayed at how much any movement hurt. He felt as though someone had tilted the world to the side, as the grass started blurring, and he swayed on his feet. John thought he heard the footsteps running now, and he gagged as a wave of nausea washed over him. He doubled over, feeling the pain in his ribs intensify as his stomach contracted. There was definitely a shout of: "Oh my gosh, John!", and he realized that it was feminine and familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. 'At least that rules out the possibility of it being my father…' he thought dryly, as he fell as gently as possible to his knees.

When he had first woken up on the floor of his room earlier, he had been sick, and now there was nothing left in his stomach but bile, which he could only spit out. After a minute, his stomach settled down, and he leaned back on his heels, wiping his mouth on his un-bloodied glove, and then wrapping both arms around his chest. One set of footsteps had stopped, and he felt someone kneel next to him, and steady his shoulders with their hands, since he was still swaying slightly. 'What?' he thought in astonishment. 'Who the hell would even pay attention to me?' he mused, thinking about his standing with most of the population of the school. For a minute there, it had sounded like...but why would it be?

"Hey buddy, take it easy," the person kneeling next to him spoke softly. Bender then realized that the second party had finally reached them, albeit a little out of breath. 'Those were definitely high heels,' Bender thought. 'And that voice, I know it too…' it dawned on him. From behind the curtain of his hair, he saw a blue athletic jacket, and figured that it was no other than Andrew Clarke, premier jock of Saturday's detention.

"John, are you okay?" he heard from above, and he recognized the voice as Claire's. He paused to take a breath before speaking up.

"Oh yeah, everything's just peaches and cream, Cherry. Peaches and cream," he responded. 'Does it look like I'm alright?' was what his 'outer side' wanted to say, but as it was, he was still slightly annoyed with his sarcastic tone. She just aked a question after all... He heard an exasperated sigh as the hands were taken off of his shoulders, and Claire crouched down next to Andy. Finally, John looked up, letting his hair fall back to either side of his face. Andy and Claire's eyebrows shot up, and while Claire let a gasp escape her lips, Andy let out an almost inaudible whistle.

"John! John, what happened? Oh my god, your face…!" Claire exclaimed. She was reaching out her hand to brush away the hair that fell across his cheeks. Bender felt that he needed to lighten them up a little. 'After all, it's only a broken nose…' he pandered to himself. 'Yeah, and some really screwed ribs, and a concussion, and a deep cut…' But he simply replied, attempting his special smirk:

"That bad, hunh?" He had to admit to himself, he sounded pretty half-hearted, and he stopped smirking when a twinge radiated from his nose through the rest of his face.

"John, what happened man?" Andy was asking, wide eyed. 'Well, so Sporto cares…not bad…' Bender smiled inwardly at the change. Claire put the locks of hair on his right side behind his ear.

"John, your hair's wet! You must be freezing!" She tentatively brushed her fingers over the bruised skin under his eye. He hissed, wincing from the contact, and she pulled away.

"Sorry," she said softly. Bender noticed that in her eyes was genuine concern, and he remembered the feel of her lips on his, and her hands on his neck. 'Was that for real?' John asked himself. He also noted that she looked a little frightened, and she and Andy exchanged a quick glance. Andrew paused, and then stood up, offering his hand out to Bender.

"Here, do ya need help getting back up? Why don't we get into the car and warm up a little, hunh?" He urged, extending his hand further to John. Bender's mind kicked back into gear, as he absorbed the fact that both of the people he was suspecting might commit 'treason' against their pact were sticking to their word, and being real friends. 'Lucky for me, we got super-jock here. At least he's not acting like it. And Claire… Claire is being so nice…' John thought silently. He was embarrassed about needing help, especially since Claire was there, and had just seen him be sick, too. 'Well, I might as well be nice then…' he concluded, as he looked at Andy's hand.

"Thanks, Sporto," he said. He wondered briefly whether he should just call Andy by name, because the guy didn't really want to be a sport, now did he? But currently, thinking about that was not going to give any help to his predicament, so he just let it go.

Getting up was going to be more difficult than just a hand, and Bender knew it. He was ashamed about his injuries, and he was pretty sure they didn't know about his ribs yet. On top of that, what was he going to tell them? How could he explain a broken nose, cracked ribs, and a cut on his head- without telling them about his father? Of course he had shown them the cigar burn, but that was to prove a point, and believe me, he regretted it. Only one or two of his pot-head 'friends' had known about his home life before he had told everyone in detention. After all, several of them led lives similar to his, even though they were probably up a notch on the 'parental scale'.

Once again, he looked up towards their faces, as Claire stood up. Andy was starting to look slightly irritated, presumably at the fact that Bender hadn't acknowledged his hand yet. John realized that he had to say something, or they might think he didn't want their help and blow him off, and he just wasn't sure he could make it anywhere on his own. Besides, he would get to sit in the car with the princess.

"Yeah, uh, thanks and all. But um…" 'Man, how the fuck am I supposed to say this? Me, the criminal of Shermer high school, can't get off the ground without help from the jock and the princess,' However, a niggling thought told him he shouldn't be calling them that…He shifted uncomfortably on his knees. Andy and Claire were looking at one another, at a loss as to what he wanted to say. Soon enough though, realization dawned, and Claire spoke up, uncomfortable with the silence.

"Um…do you need more help?" She asked timidly. John was frightened to learn that tears seemed to be pricking his eyes, if ever so gently. Everything just hurt so much, and here these two people were -people who wouldn't have looked at him at any time except to whisper, or maybe laugh at what he did -helping him get off the ground after his father had beaten him. 'That detention is really shakin' things up. God, what's the world doing, spinning backwards?' He asked himself. 'Hopefully, it's better off spinning the wrong way,' the softer side of his mind (the part that had greatly enjoyed that gentle kiss in the closet) responded. 'Yeah, yeah, that's right. Take what you can Bender,' he encouraged his mind silently. John met Claire and Andy's eyes.

"Uh, yeah. That would be great, Claire," He responded, looking into her eyes as she smiled softly. As she bent down to grab his arm, he whispered into her ear: "Thank you."

wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

So, how was it? Please review, and thank you so much to all who have already done so! I am so thrilled to learn what you like about my writing. And thank you also for any constructive comments. If you would really like to talk about something I've written, or recommend a story to me, anything, e-mail me, it's in my profile.

So, was this Bender to your liking? I think I got a good balance of his angsty-ness andhis funny side. If you'd like to see more of either of these, or if you think the balance needs a little work, don't hesitate to tell me! Okay, thanks for reading! Look for the next chapter soon, hopefully tomorrow! Have a psychedelic day!

The tangled web we weave