Disclaimer: Usual. Why would I change it?

Chapter Four: A Father's Fury

Sabre the Echidna was standing in the medical wing, gazing absently at his still unmoving son lying on a bed. Locke had many electrodes fixed on his body that were connected to a machine. It monitored the echidna's blood pressure and heartbeats. A thin tube in Locke's nose provided him all the oxygen he needed to stay alive.

Alive. Half an hour earlier Sabre thought his son was really dead; but then Father Athair had arrived and, as shocked as he was, had immediately told everyone that Locke wasn't dead. How he knew it was beyond Sabre: Athair had just kneeled by Locke on the floor and had put a hand to his heart. The flying echidna had just smiled and said: "He's alive."

Alive. This word brought so much relief and joy to Sabre. According to Athair, Locke had focused his Emerald powers on his heart to make it beat at a normal rate. That's why he'd stopped breathing; his lungs weren't physically functioning. It was a good strategy, but he wouldn't have been able to hold on much longer without oxygen. Apart from his heart, all of his muscles lacked oxygen and he probably wouldn't be able to move normally for a week. As for the others injuries they'd noticed many deep gashes, which Athair bandaged easily, along with a broken arm, two broken ribs and some spine damage. He'd been lucky a rib hadn't pierced a lung, but Spectre feared he'd be paralysed for life, like Hawking rolling around in his wheelchair.

And here was Sabre, now, waiting for Locke to wake up. He wanted to be the first thing his son would see when opening his eyes. Quietly he reached over and took Locke's bandaged hand in his own. I swear, Locke, when I find out who did this to you, I'll make the bastard's life a living hell. Sabre gently squeezed his son's hand. To him it was obvious Locke hadn't gotten hurt alone; something or someone had had a hand in it.

Sabre's head shot up when he heard the younger one groan. Locke seemed to be struggling against his wounds, even in his unconscious state. Sabre's son shifted on the bed, apparently in great pain, and it infuriated his father to be so helpless. Sabre could do nothing but gently pat the hand he held and use words to comfort his hurt son. "Hey there, Locke," he whispered. "Everything is all right, now. You can rest, don't struggle anymore."

His son seemed to hear him, because he calmed down somewhat and opened his eyes half-way. Locke's usually bright blue eyes had fallen to a grim grey, clouded by pain and despair. Sabre smiled weakly and ran his hand on his son's cheek. "Don't worry, Locke, we're here." Locke weakly squeezed his father's hand and his features tensed in pain. "Now don't move. Father Athair said we couldn't give you painkillers yet because of the lack of oxygen in your blood. It could do you more harm than good."

Locke blinked to signal he understood, then dozed off and fell into dreamland where he could fully rest. Sabre bent and kissed his son on the forehead, carefully avoiding the healing gashes on Locke's head. "Rest well, son."

Sabre sat down just when the door opened and Thunderhawk walked in. The elder echidna nodded in greetings and turned to Locke. "Is everything all right?" he asked.

"Everything's going smoothly so far," Sabre said. "I just hope we'll be able to give him painkillers soon. It kills me to see him in so much pain." And it really did; Sabre couldn't bear the sight of his son hurting. He wanted nothing but take the pain in his son's place, but unfortunately he couldn't. And that's what maddened him.

Thunderhawk nodded respectfully and held his hand up. "I've found this in the corridor near Locke's bedroom," he informed. "I thought it might interest you."

Sabre looked up to see Thunderhawk extending an open palm, and in his palm a black ring. One of those echidnas used to slip on their spines. This one was thin leather, with one side torn up as if it had been ripped off in hurry. Or in a fight. Sabre frowned. "I've never seen this sort of ring before. Whose do you think it is?"

"I don't want to jump to conclusions, but I believe I saw Lara-Le's new husband wearing some." Thunderhawk gave the ring to Sabre. "If that can be of any help."

"Thank you, Grandfather. I'll stay with Locke and try to figure this out." Thunderhawk nodded and left quietly. Sabre's gaze fell on the black torn up ring in his hand. I know a certain someone who has some explaining to do…

Lara-Le sighed as she put the books back where they belonged. Wynmacher had had a mood swing in the morning and had knocked the books shelves off. To think she had just asked him how he felt… Lara couldn't even imagine what his reaction would have been if she'd asked what had happened the day before.

Something happened, and apparently something bad. I can't remember seeing him so upset about anything before. Lara made the mental note to figure it out later, when a paper fell out of a book. She frowned; she didn't remember seeing any torn out page in a book, so what was this? She bent down and picked the paper up; only it wasn't a paper. It was a photo, and when she saw it Lara smiled.

On the picture was Locke, grinning sheepishly while he scratched the back of his head. He was wearing an apron upon which was written "Kiss the cook", and behind him a black dust-covered kitchen could be seen. Lara chuckled as she remembered Locke's first attempt at cooking, which had ended up with them both eating out. It was before Knuckles was born, and they had been married for six months. Locke had wanted to cook dinner in order to celebrate her twenty-first birthday; unfortunately things didn't go as planned.

Lara-Le smiled. Those were the good old times when Locke would come home every day and spend time with her. But soon after he got distant, and there were times she wouldn't hear any of him for a week. But he has changed, she reminded herself. She was about to put the photo on a shelf… but then decided against it and took out the book it had fallen from. It was an old photo album; she sat on the sofa and opened it.

There were tons, and boy do I mean tons, of old photos. She picked up one at random and her smile broadened. This one had been taken during one of their first dates. Which was weird, because Lara hadn't remembered taking a camera to begin with, but it wasn't until later that she discovered Athair had snuck up to take a picture or two. This date had been wonderful: they'd been on a picnic by a lake, and they had had a water fight. Oh she remembered it all too well…

Lara was jerked out of her memories when someone knocked on her door. She swiftly closed the photo album and put back on its shelf; if that was Wynmacher, he would not take too well her looking through photos of her and Locke. Lara then got up and opened the door.

Imagine her surprise when she found Sabre, her ex-father-in-law, on her doorstep. He smiled and nodded to her. "Good morning, Lara-Le. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"No, come in," she said as she let him in. Sabre nodded and walked in the apartment. "If I may ask… what did you come for?"

"I've been thinking you'd like to hear some news," Sabre said. Lara raised one quizzical eyebrow; she didn't know Sabre that much, but she did know he never stopped by to tell news. "I'll go straight to the point, Lara-Le. Locke is lying half-dead in Haven's medical wing."

Lara was so shocked it took her some time to register what the elder male had just said. Locke? Dying? No it can't be! In her denial she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. "B-but how? Are you sure?" She immediately realized that if Sabre was there, then he was deadly sure of what he was saying.

Sabre sighed. "I'm pretty sure. I wouldn't be there if I wasn't. But I haven't come just to tell you this, Lara-Le." The female saw him shift his weight from one foot to the other. "It may seem strange to you, but… I have to know. Does this belong to your husband?" Sabre opened a clenched fist and Lara-Le frowned upon seeing a torn-up black ring. It was vaguely reminding her of the ones Wynmacher used to wear on his spines.

"Yes, I think it does. But why do you have it?"

Sabre once again sighed. "We found this in one of Haven's corridors, not far from where Locke was attacked. We… well, in truth, I think Wynmacher could be the one who mutilated Locke. Has he acted strange lately?"

"Well, he did act strange ever since he came back late last night," Lara said, gradually putting two and two together. "And… he was drenched with blood too. When I asked him what had happened he just told me he got caught in a brawl, but I don't believe him. He was reeking alcohol, too." Lara didn't know why she was telling Sabre all this, maybe because of her concern for Locke. "I don't recall if he was missing any spine ring."

Her ex-father-in-law seemed deep in thoughts, nodding every now and then. Who knew what was going through that mind of his; a father's fury could be so powerful and deadly. Sabre finally looked up at her. "Although I deeply suspect your husband, Lara-Le, I won't jump to conclusions. Could you try and question him when he gets home?" When she nodded he handed her the black leather ring. "Here. Keep this just in case."

With a wave of the hand, Sabre opened the door and got out of the apartment before Lara-Le could say goodbye. She just stood here, the leather ring in her hand.

Gods. What jsut happened?

Sabre sighed as he walked along the stony path leading to one of the houses on the outskirts of Echidnaopolis. Hands clasped behind his back, he kicked off small rocks and his eyes were glued to the grass his feet were walking upon. How in the seven hells was he going to pull that off? Should he go straight to the point, as he had done with Lara-Le, or should he be more subtle?

By the time he pondered that thought over, Sabre had arrived in front of the house. It was a small cottage, built with reddish bricks and surrounded by a huge garden. He smiled upon seeing the bright flowers, the healthy-looking bushes, and took a big breath. This smelt like home. Like his home.

"Sabre! You're here!" a female voice exclaimed. The Guardian turned his head to see a red-furred female echidna standing in the open doorway, dressed in a gardening outfit and holding some sort of cutter. Her hair was drawn back in a ponytail, and her olive-colored eyes shimmered while looking at him. Sabre smiled; apparently, his wife Jenna-Lu hadn't expected him to be there when she opened the door to the garden.

The male opened his arms. "Yes, I'm home, Jenna." She didn't waste a second and ran square into his embrace, dropping her cutter while running. Wrapping both her arms around his neck, Jenna hugged her husband with an unbelievable force and pecked his cheek. Sabre smiled and returned her hug lovingly.

"I was worried," Jenna said as she laid her head on his chest. "You usually contact me every couple of days, and I haven't received any news from you in a week. Did something happen at Haven? Was there a problem with the communicators?"

Sabre shifted nervously; how one was supposed to tell a mother her son was dying? "I... well, there wasn't any problem with the communicators. I have come to talk with you, Jenna. It's a serious matter."

His wife looked up at him with raised eyebrows. "What's wrong? Locke is giving you trouble again? Sabre, I've told you he is still young, he still has to learn."

"Well, although it could be put that way, it isn't what I have come to speak about." Sabre sighed once again. "Could we at least go inside to talk about it?"

"Sure, darling, come on!" Jenna grabbed his hand and pulled him in the house, an action who made Sabre smile. His wife had always been very impatient and impulsive when it came to her only son. Together they sat on a sofa in front of each other. "So, what is it, Sabre?"

The Guardian took a big breath to get ready and began talking. "Last night... well, we aren't sure about the time, but it has to be last night... someone trepassed into Haven. We don't know who it was, we don't know what he was doing here, but we know he was after Locke." Jenna widened her eyes, and then she grabbed Sabre's hand once again.

"How is our son, Sabre?" she asked, concerned.

"Well, he..." Sabre looked up. He couldn't bring himself to lie. "He is dying, Jenna."

The red female gasped, her expression a mixture of shock, deep sadness and horror. She shook her head in denial, tears prinkling at the corners of her eyes. "No, it can't be. Locke is strong, he is a Guardian, he can't be killed like that..." she whispered under her breath.

Sabre brought his hand up to cup one of her cheeks. "Father Athair said that Locke might survive, there is a weak possibilty. But I don't want to let my hopes go up too quickly. The higher you climb, the harder you fall. However I trust Locke, and I think he will make it." Sabre pulled Jenna close and hugged her to his chest, caressing her back as she cried. Her husband rocked her gently and whispered to her: "I have come here to bring you to Haven. If this week is the last Locke lives, then I want him to be with us until... until it is over."

Jenna just sobbed harder, but she nodded in Sabre's shoulder. She would go to Haven, and take care of her son until he was well again or until... she wouldn't even think about it.

"When do you think you can come?" Sabre asked as Jenna's sobbing calmed down.

The red female wiped her eyes. "Now. Let's go to Haven."

The clock rang. It was 7 p.m.

Wyn wil be home soon, Lara-Le thought. And then he'll have some explanations t give me. For at least the twentieth time this afternoon, she observed the black leather ring in her palm. Could it really be Wyn's? Could her husband have really tried to kill Locke?

At first Lara had rejected the idea. Wyn wasn't that type of man, and even if he hated Locke he wouldn't kill him. But then she had thought about it carefully, and indeed too many things proved that Wyn was the culprit. First off he was angry at Locke for spending a day with Lara, and he had disappeared most of the night. Then he had come home soaked in blood and reeking alcohol. And finally, this: a black ring found in Haven, the same sort Wyn wore.

Yes, some explanations, indeed, Lara thought just as the front door opened. It was Wynmacher, who was coming back from work. Ignoring Lara-Le, he strode over to the sofa and collapsed on it, groaning. "My head, it hurts!" he moaned grasping his skull.

Lara crossed her arms in front of her. She had half a mind to tell him "Serves you well, that is for drinking alcohol," but she didn't. There was another matter at hand. "Too bad, I have a few questions to ask you. For starters, where have you been last night?"

Wyn groaned. "I've already told you-"

"No, Wyn, I mean where have you really been last night?"

Feeling cornered, the male rolled on his side and moaned. Maybe playing dumb would work, who knew. Unfortunately for him, Lara wouldn't buy it. "I believe I've asked you something, Wynmacher," the female said dryly. Her husband cringed; it had been a while since she hadn't called him by the nickname "Wyn". Which meant she was angry. Which meant he was in serious trouble.

"Can't we talk about it later?" he risked.

"No, Wynmacher. We're talking now."

"But where do you think I've been? It's not like I went out of town," Wyn growled.

"Oh sure, forgive me, it's not like you went to Haven, after all..." Wynmacher froze at those words. She knows... oh my god, she knows! "It's not like you tried to kill Locke-"

"And what makes you think that I did?" he barked, abruptly sitting up. He dropped the dumb act and glared heatingly at his wife.

"This makes me think that you did," she answered while showing him the black leather ring. "Locke's father, Sabre, said they found it near the place where Locke was attacked last night. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Wynmacher stood gaping at the object. Now he was as good as dead. He might as well... "You have to understand, Lara."

"Understand what?"

"That he asked for it!" Wynmacher blurted out without thinking. "He already had his chance, but he failed, and now he is trying to win you over again! He acts all sweet and kind, and I was angry and I didn't know what came over me and this is now!" His words were coming on top of each others as he rambled on and on to defend himself.

But Lara-Le wasn't even listening to him. Ever since he began admiting that he tried to kill Locke, her mind had shut down. Wynmacher, her husband, had tried to murder her ex-husband out of jealousy. It looked awfully like one of those drama movies she sometimes saw on TV.

"Please try to understand!" Wynmacher pleaded. "All the while I wanted to protect you, I didn't want you to suffer at his hands once again!"

This brought Lara back on Mobius. "Protect me? Don't try to fool me around, Wynmacher, you were just jealous. Dead jealous, in fact, that I spent some time with Locke without you knowing. Whereas he never tried to harm you in a any way, and in this way he is far more understanding that you'll ever be.

"I know we aren't married anymore, Wynmacher, but no matter what we will always share a bond in a way. I've already told you this, but we have a son, we both are Knuckles' parents!"

"So, you mean that just because we had no kid together, I am nothing to you?" the male growled.

Lara-Le sighed. He was the culprit, still she had to give explanations. "I haven't said that. I just want you to understand that Locke and I are close, and that's no reason to try and kill him."

"I mostly understand that you're seeing another man behind my back, ex-husband or not," Wynmacher said, and his words finally pushed Lara over the edge.

"All right, you know what? I'm sure you can live by yourself for a week or two, because I'm going to Haven to help Locke. After what Sabre said, it's going to be awhile until he is fully healed, but that's fine. The longer, the better, goodbye Wynmacher." Lara-Le strode up to their bedroom and grabbed the bag that was resting on the bed. She had informed the Brotherhood that she would come to Haven, and surprisingly the Guardians had accepted, even rather gratefully. Lara had planned to go there the next day, but with Wynmacher and that new turn of things, she couldn't stand being in the same room than this man for another night.

"Lara," Wynmacher called. "What are you doing?"

"What I should have done at the beginning," Lara dryly responded. Without a last glance back, she opened the door and went out, carrying her bag.

Locke. I'm coming.