Disclaimer: Usual applies.

WARNING: please, Locke fans, don't come howling for my blood! I swear no character will die in this story – expect maybe Wynmacher, but that's another thing. I just want to slip a what if in, that's all. Please don't kill me?

Chapter Three: Blood is thicker

Sabre the Echidna yawned as he closed the door of his bedroom. He had slept wonderfully well this night, and now his stomach was growling angrily, wanting to be filled. I guess I better go to the kitchen and see who's awake, Sabre thought.

The echidna made his way towards Haven's kitchen/ He walked past Thunderhawk's slightly opened door and winced when he heard the snores coming from the bedroom. I wonder how Grandfather Sojourner's mother was able to stand these, he mused, chuckling as he continued walking. Maybe she was deaf, or perhaps she would put his pillow in Grandfather Thunderhawk's mouth. Who knows?

Two minutes later, Sabre arrived in front of the kitchen. He stood in the doorway, smiling.

Father Athair was in one of his overly cheerful moods – but then when wasn't he ever? He was making pancakes waffles, hovering between the frying pan and the waffle-iron while humming to himself. Seated at the table, Fifth-father Spectre was looking quite sleepy. Sabre could tell it judging by his tired red eyes, but also because Spectre was holding a waffle in his hand while spreading strawberry jam on his wrist.

Then Sabre noticed he could see his fifth-father's skin under his jet black fur. It was raw and red, as if Spectre had been scratching it for hours.

"Hello, Father and Fifth-father," Sabre greeted. "Did you sleep well?"

Whereas Athair smiled broadly and nodded, Spectre groaned. When he saw his fifth-son raise an eyebrow, the black echidna looked up. "You don't know how hard it is to get paint out of your fur," Spectre said tiredly. "I spent the first half of the night scrubbing my fur, and let me tell you Sojourner won't try that little stunt again anytime soon."

Sabre chuckled in advance; Spectre's punishments were as unpredictable as they were ridiculous. "What did you do to him?"

"Exactly what he did to me, only it wasn't water or paint I threw on him." A grin crept its way on Spectre's lips, and Sabre shuddered. "It was glue."

The brown echidna gasped. No wonder Sojourner wasn't in the kitchen; the poor guy must be still trying to get rid of the glue! Which he noticed seemed to greatly amuse Spectre. "You're one sick echidna, Grandfather," Sabre joked.

"I know, but he'll get over it. Eventually." Spectre held his waffle up to take a bite out of it, but he bit his hand instead. "Spawn of Dimitri!" he cursed as he squeezed his wounded hand. Sabre just chuckled and took a seat across from his fifth-father.

"Incoming!" Athair shouted. To Sabre's surprise the flying echidna's fist fell down hard on the pan's handle, and the pancakes that were in it were flung across the kitchen. Sabre gaped, but Spectre just held his plate up and the pancakes landed square in it. The dark one chuckled at Sabre's dumbfounded expression.

"He's been doing that for an hour, as you can see." Spectre motioned to the wall behind them, and for the first time Sabre noticed the pancakes that were glued there. There were also some on the ground, and one lonely waffle on the ceiling. "Thanks Edmund, he got it right after the twentieth attempt," Spectre sighed, dropping a lump of sugar in his glass of orange juice and stirring it with a knife.

Needless to say Sabre was as amused as he was puzzled. He was about to say something when his fifth-father took a "knifeful" – if that word is even possible – of orange juice to taste it. He winced and put more sugar in his glass. "Athair, what did you put in the coffee this morning? It tastes horrible." Spectre stuck his tongue out in disgust, and used his knife to put sugar in his glass.

Sabre began chuckling as Spectre scattered sugar on the table, earning himself a dark glare from the tired echidna. "What are you laughing about, Fifth-son?"

"N-nothing. Are you feeling well Grandfather?" Sabre asked, biting back some snickers.

"I'm fine, just a little tired." Spectre sighed once again and began to mild-absently cut his waffle with his spoon. I can see that, Sabre thought as he watched his fifth-father struggle to cut the waffle. He finally adverted his eyes, fearing that he would crack up. Must not laugh… of gods he's so stupid… no, don't laugh… don't…

"Damn these things, they don't cut!" Spectre growled. "Maybe we should replace the knives, they're getting old."

And I know some relative of mine who does as well…

"Why don't you try with a fork instead, Fourth-father?" Athair cheerfully exclaimed. "And hurry up, your orange juice is getting cold."

Sabre couldn't take it anymore, and began laughing out loud while Spectre glared. "Very funny, Athair. But you've got one point, my coffee is getting cold." And with that Spectre got up and put his overly sugared glass of orange juice in the microwave and turned it on. Sabre burst out laughing, holding his sides. Spectre cast him a puzzled look. "You're acting quite strangely this morning, Fifth-son."

"You're one to talk!" Sabre choked.

Thunderhawk chose this moment to step in the kitchen. He raised one eyebrow upon seeing his growling father and laughing fourth-son. "I guess it is safer to not ask any question," the lavender echidna simply said.

"You've guessed right," Spectre said as he took his glass of orange juice out of the microwave and blew the steam away. "I don't know what got into him."

Thunderhawk widened his eyes at the glass, casting a glance in Sabre's direction. The younger echidna shrugged, dissolving in another laughing fit. Thunderhawk shook his head and was about to reason with his father when Athair yelled: "Incoming!" and hurled the pancakes as he had done earlier. And before he could even say: "Holy Edmund eating a banana!", two pancakes plastered themselves against Thunderhawk's face. Burning hot pancakes.

Thunderhawk gave off a yell of pain as the pancakes burned his lavender fur. he danced in place and growled as Sabre fell from his chair, now howling with laughter. "Are you going to sit there and laugh or are you going to help me?"

"I'd rather sit there and laugh!" Sabre said.

Thunderhawk humped and brought his hands up to get the pancakes off, wincing when he felt the heat on his skin. "Damn you, Athair, why do you always have to make others suffer from your stupidity?" He ripped the burning pancakes off, ignoring the pain as he threw them to Athair. "Hair-stuffed pancakes. Help yourself."

By the time Sabre had calmed down enough to sit on his chair, Thunderhawk had taken a seat and Sojourner had arrived.

If Sabre had been surprised by Spectre's appearance, then he was completely flabbergasted by Sojourner's. The red echidna was literally missing entire patches of fur, and what remained of it was bristled and standing on end. The furless spots showed red scratched skin, and Sojourner was looking quite annoyed.

"What happened to you, son," Thunderhawk asked, more amused than concerned.

"Ask dear Grandfather Spectre here," Sojourner grumbled while grabbing a plate. "I think he knows."

"We're square now, Second-son," Spectre replied while sipping his coffee. Sorry, orange juice. "I got you back, that's all. You wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't started it all."

"But I do maintain glue was pretty low, even for you," Sojourned snarled.

"Then it suits you perfectly."

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to wash glue off your fur?" the red one shouted, furious. "I spent the entire night in the bathroom, I even had to shave or rip off some glued fur! I see you didn't have to do that!"

"It'll grow back, don't worry."

Sabre shook his head as he listened to his fighting relatives. They could be so helpless at times, but at the same time he couldn't help but love them. They were the way they were, end of the story, and he could do nothing to prevent it.

But then something occurred to him: Locke wasn't here. His son was never one to get up late unless he was really exhausted – which couldn't be the case. Locke rarely skipped a meal for no apparent reason. His son's absence normally wouldn't worry Sabre, but he couldn't help a bad feeling from setting in his mind.

"Has anyone seen Locke?" Sabre asked.

"I saw him yesterday before going to bed," Spectre said. "But I haven't seen him yet this morning."

"Knowing your son, he's either in his lab working on a machine or in the surveillance room stalking Lara-Le," Thunderhawk grunted. "Or else he forgot to wake up."

Fourth-father must be right; then again this doesn't look like Locke. He usually is the first one to wake up. I have to check on him. "I'll get him," Sabre announced as he got up, but Spectre motioned for him to sit down.

"Let your son breathe a little, will you? He'll come around, just eat a pancake or two and he'll be there before you know it. Now sit down."

Sabre sighed and sat back down. He knew he was being overprotective, but he easily showed concern when it came to his only son. His fathers would often tell him to leave Locke alone while Sabre thought what he was doing was what was best for him. He loved his son and hated to see him sad or hurt. I'm just being paranoid. Locke's probably fine.

The five males ate breakfast in silence, with Spectre and Sojourner exchanging dark glances every now and then. Half an hour later, the echidnas put their plates in the sink; Locke was nowhere to be seen.

"That's it, I'm looking for him," Sabre said as he walked out of the kitchen. "I've got a bad feeling about this."

"Take it easy, Sabre," Thunderhawk said calmly. "Your son probably fell asleep in front of a computer screen again."

"I just hope you're right, Grandfather."

Sabre strode in the corridors, heading towards the surveillance room. May Grandfather Thunderhawk be right, he thought. I know he probably is, so why the hell am I so worried?

The brown echidna arrived in front of the surveillance room and, wasting no time, opened the door. The room was empty, and all the computers screens were blank. Okay, don't panic. He's probably working in his lab. It would be extremely unusual of him to skip breakfast like that, but oh well.

Sabre closed the door or the surveillance room, hurrying towards his son's lab. Which was as empty as the surveillance room. Last option: his bedroom. He'd better be in there, or else… Sabre couldn't bear the thought of Locke vanishing like that. There had to be an explanation for this. His paternal instincts kicked in, and Sabre took off running in Locke's bedroom's direction. He tried to calm his raging mind. All right, he just slept in. That must be it. Totally out of character, but it must be. It has to be. Braking in front of Locke's door, Sabre took a big breath and opened it.

Empty. The bed's sheets were neatly folded in a pile on the mattress. And Sabre remembered Locke had washed his sheets the day before. That could only mean one thing: Locke had never slept there that night. What the hell happened? Sabre brushed his scared thoughts off and sent out a mental call.

Locke? Where are you son? No one answered him. It was like Locke had shut his mind tight and allowed no other in it. That or his son was… Sabre shook his head. He couldn't even envisage the thought of Locke dying. It was far too terrifying. Locke, for Edmund's sake, answer me! Where are you! Still nothing; Sabre felt the bile rise in his throat.

He took off running once again in the corridors. "Grandfathers! I can't find Locke!" he shouted.

It wasn't long before the others came up to him. Athair and Spectre were looking concerned, as Thunderhawk grumbled and Sojourner rolled his eyes. "Are you sure, Sabre?" Spectre asked. "Did you check everywhere?"

"Yes I did! I've been to the surveillance room then to the lab then his bedroom!" Sabre said quickly, panic rising in his voice. "Then I tried to contact him but he won't answer! Something happened to him, Fifth-father!"

Spectre rubbed his chin for a moment, thinking. "He won't answer, you say? Well then I guess something happened. Locke wouldn't block one of us out like that." He pointed north. "Thunderhawk, Sojourner, you two go this way. See if you can find Locke. Athair, you go south. Sabre, come with me, we'll go west. First one to find him alert the others, understood?"

They all nodded and went separate ways. Sabre began wishing he knew what was going on at all. He hurried forwards to catch up with Spectre, who was walking fast ahead. "Where do you think he could be?" Sabre asked, concern edging in his voice.

Spectre sighed. "If I knew we wouldn't be looking for him right now. Did you check his lab and the surveillance room?" Sabre nodded. "All right, let's go to the conference room. Then we'll go to the elevator bay and see from there. It'll be harder if we can't contact him, but it'll have to do."

And off they were. But as Sabre feared, the conference room was empty, and so was the elevator bay. And Spectre was seriously going to lose his temper. Thunderhawk, he mentally called, have you two found something, son?

No, Father. We've checked the food storages and all the rooms in the north and east aisles, Thunderhawk answered, now sounding a bit concerned. Athair is with us, and he says he hadn't got any luck in the south aisle.

"Well, I think that leaves only a few options," Spectre sighed. "I'll check the medical wing and you go to the ship bay. I'm afraid Locke has left Haven, Sabre, but we better make sure of that before alerting anyone." Sabre nodded, and departed towards the ship bay. He still didn't know why Locke would hide or leave Haven; after all the day before had been quite nice, so his son had no reason to leave.

As he neared the ship bay, Sabre somehow felt he was getting close. His pace quickened, and his hopes got up as he took a last turn. There, metallic walls smelled of turmoil, of a Guardian's previous presence. Sabre looked up and began to shout: "Locke! Where are you son? Locke!" The brown echidna received no answer, though he sped up even more. And when he finally arrived at the ship bay, he stopped dead and his blood froze.

There was a sight he had never seen, not even in his worst nightmare. At the bottom of some metallic stairs, Locke was lying on a side, unmoving and not breathing. And there was so much blood everywhere! On the stairs, on the floor… and on Locke too. Sabre remained frozen in place, unable to take his eyes off of his son bathing in a pool of his own blood – then something clicked in his mind and he screamed his son's name. "Locke!"

Sabre bolted down the stairs. He didn't care if he slipped and fell as well, he just wanted to be with his son, to take him in his arms and hold him close. He fell on his knees beside Locke's unmoving body, and gathered his son in his arms. "Oh Locke, what happened to you?" Sabre hugged Locke close, cradling the young one's head against his chest. "Don't worry, it's all right, I'm here now. I'll take care of you." Sabre tenderly ran his hand through his son's spines – and that's when he noticed Locke wasn't breathing.

"Locke? Son, are you all right?" Sabre asked, his voice beginning to tremble. He drew back and looked at Locke's face, which remained lifeless even as the brown echidna caressed a cheek with the back of his hand. "Locke? Answer, my son… Oh gods no! It's not true!" Sabre felt the first tears running on his cheeks before he knew it. He hugged Locke once again, now in a desperate way. "It's not true! You can't be dead!" he sobbed in denial. "Wake up, Locke! I beg of you, wake up!"

But Locke stayed still, and Sabre sobbed even harder. The elder echidna then felt a hand on his shoulder, and raised watery eyes to see his fifth-father Spectre looking down at him. He'd probably heard him scream. The dark echidna's gaze was soft and full of compassion as he looked at the crying father. "I'm sorry, Sabre," he said quietly.

"What are you sorry for? This isn't your fault and besides he'll recover. Right, Locke? You're stronger than that; you'll be running around again soon." Spectre shook his head, listening to Sabre's words. Apparently he was still in denial of what was going on. "It's not as if he were dead, is it?"

"Sabre-" Spectre began sadly.

"He can't be dead, you hear me? He is not dead!" Sabre said, the tears still flowing from his dark blue eyes. "He can't die now that he realized he could get a life! He can't die now that I realized I've never told him how much I love him! It can't happen!" On impulse Sabre got up and threw himself against Spectre, which surprised the black echidna. "It can't happen," the younger one whimpered.

Spectre sighed and gently began to pat his fifth-son on the back as he sobbed in his dark robes. He realized just how young Sabre really was behind that mask of his, but he acted so mature and calm at times it made him sound like he was twenty years older. "I've called the others," Spectre whispered to Sabre. "They'll be here soon."

Sabre nodded weakly in his fifth-father's shoulder, his whole body shaking with sobs. Spectre made shushing noises as he did his best to comfort his grandson. "Ssh, calm down Sabre," he whispered while gently caressing his fifth-son's back. "You're doing yourself harm. Calm down."

"Why him, Grandfather?" Sabre choked in between sobs. "Why Locke?"

"I don't know, Sabre. I really don't know."

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No words can describe a father's tears; no one can heal his broken heart.