A/N: Hey ya'll! Sorry I haven't updated in awhile! And, I'm sorry, but I feel that this is a dud of a chapter….hope you enjoy it anyway.

Chapter 18: Chris and Emma in Danger, White Lie Done

Chris strolled into his house-shack, whistling. Thank GOD his father wasn't going to be here for the next couple days. Last night he had stormed out of the house, claiming with rage that "he had to get out of this dump for awhile". Well, Chris thought, the only thing that made it a goddamn dump was you hanging around, throwing your beer cans and wine bottles and shit everywhere.

"OOOHHH CHRISTOPHER!" a voice called out in mock-merry.

Chris scowled. Great. His big brother was home. But Chris had started to refer to him as "the man who deflowered my girlfriend without permission", or his personal favorite, "That goddamn, son-of-a-bitching, motherfucking, cuntlicking, asswiping, dickfaced, piece of no good lowlife shit". Ah, how he loved curse words.

"Christopher, our bedroom now, please?"

"Fuck off, Rich," Chris answered, but decided what the hell. He loped into the bedroom that he and Eyeball shared. His brother was standing right by Chris's bed, his jaw set tight, his hands hidden behind his back. Chris stared at him.

"What do you want?" Chris asked.

"I want you to tell me….is it true….you had sex?"

Chris gazed at him with foe curiosity. He wasn't surprised that Eyeball found out, actually, he was very certain that Eyeball would have found out. Chris just didn't know if his brother knew who it was with.

"Nah, I'm only sixteen. When did you have first have sex?" Chris asked casually.

"Fifteen," Eyeball answered with a smug smile, "I'm twenty one now."

"Oh," Chris replied, his face losing its shine, "Well, I didn't."

"Don't make me show you the evidence," Eyeball threatened.

"Too late. Let me see it," Chris ordered eagerly, wondering what kind of evidence Eyeball could have found.

Eyeball gave Chris a large smirk, and brought his hands from his back to reveal…….an Elvis t-shirt. Chris's heart sank as deep as the Titanic. He knew that Eyeball knew that he wasn't that much of a fan of Elvis. Plus, Chris had given Abbie his own t-shirt to wear home.

"Oh shit," Chris muttered under his breath.

"Oh shit yes indeed, Christopher," Eyeball started, taking a step forward, "Congrats on having your cherry popped, little bro. But be prepared to have the rest of you popped into oblivion." He then laughed raucously, leaving Chris to be backed into a corner, refusing to fight.


"OUCH!" Gordie howled in pain, clutching his foot.

"Sorry Gordo, but I have to hurry and get this- OUCH!"

Abbie had hit her head hard against the low hanging chandelier that hung in Gordie's dining room after stepping on Gordie's foot. She held her head for a brief moment, and then half-walked, half-jogged out of Gordie's house. But Gordie was quick to follow.

"You sure that letter is good enough?" Gordie asked her, doubtful.

"Yeah, if it's Ace, he'll believe it, that pig," Abbie answered.

"Is it believable enough that we use your rape to say to Ace, "Hey man, you're best friend is doing your girlfriend?"

"Oh please, any of the Cobras would believe it," Abbie replied, hopeful.

Abbie and Gordie continued at this pace to The Mellow Tiger, a bar where Ace and his J.D. buddies hung out. Luckily, Ace was there, his black 1952 Ford in the parking lot. The two crept slowly but surely to Ace's car, and once they reached their destination, hid behind it.

"I pray to God Ace's car doesn't have any alarms," Gordie said nervously, looking up at the sky, "God, if Ace ends up killing me for this, will you pretty please send me to Heaven because if you don't, I'd end up in Hell with the bastard who killed me in the first place."

Abbie rolled her eyes and threw the letter into the car through the open driver's window without touching it. But then suddenly…

"Hey man, I'll be back. Gotta go pick up some of the guys," Ace Merrill's voice was heard.

"Shit!" Gordie whispered, his voice cracking, high and squeaky.

"Come on," Abbie urged, grabbing his arm and dragging him away, ducking behind each car as they went.

Once Gordie and Abbie were safely out of sight from Ace, they gave each other some skin by the insistence of Gordie. Abbie smiled. He was becoming more like Chris, but in a way, his own man. From what Chris had told Abbie, she could make the conclusion that Gordie was beginning to grow up fast, and that his innocence had been lost a long time ago. Could have fooled her.

"That was rather scary," Abbie admitted, she and Gordie strolling along the sidewalk to Chris's house, "I know you were scared. Scared that Ace was gonna beat you to a pulp."

"I wasn't scared," Gordie said, dignified.

"Much, you sucker."

"No, I wasn't."

"Yeah?" Abbie asked, turning her head to look at him.

"I wasn't scared. I was fucking terrified!" Gordie exclaimed, causing both he and Abbie to laugh.

"Good one, Gordo," Abbie acknowledged.

"Definitely."

They kept in silence for the rest of the way to Chris's house, and the neighborhood was strangely quiet. Suddenly, Abbie saw something. A body was laying half in the sidewalk, half in the street. She squinted her eyes better to see who it was, but to no avail.

"Gordie," Abbie started, panicky, "There's a body lying in the road."

Gordie's head swished around, and he too squinted his eyes. And then they got huge, and his lip quivered. Suddenly, he took off at a run towards the body, his arms pumping and his feet pounding. Abbie followed him, and then saw why he did this.

There was her love, lying askew across the sidewalk and street. His navy blue shirt was ripped at the left shoulder and at the ends. His arms had flown around him, and his blonde head was hovering above the street. Blood was everywhere, his face, the top of his head, his arms, and his legs: everywhere.

"FUCK!" Gordie shouted loudly and angrily, dropping down beside Chris, checking for a pulse.

Abbie turned around, her hands shaking as if they were having their own personal seizures. Then she screamed, "SOMEBODY HELP! HELP! HELP! CHRISTOPHER CHAMBERS IS HURT!"

Suddenly, three old ladies, almost in unison, stuck their graying heads outside their doors and looked around. They saw what was happening, and two scurried down towards him, while one went back inside.

"Is he alright?" one of them asked.

"Do you think he'd be lying on the street with blood all over him if he fucking was!" Gordie exclaimed.

"You don't have to be so rude," the second one lectured, "Now, the boy's going to be fine; he deals with this almost every day."

"Like you don't even know," Gordie responded, his eyes scanning the road quickly in search for someone or something. Abbie abruptly noticed that Gordie looked close to crying.

In a few minutes time, Gordie got his wish. The ambulance came cruising down the street, and they got out, put Chris on a stretcher, and then put him inside the ambulance.

"Excuse me," an attendant started, "Who is related most to the young man?"

"He is," Abbie answered quickly, pointing at Gordie. She knew that Gordie was the one who had to go with Chris.

"What's the relation?"

"Uh, um, best friend since kindergarten," Gordie replied. He looked so shocked with his doe like eyes that he looked like a deer in headlights.

"Come on son," the attendant instructed, grabbing Gordie's arm, "You can go into the ambulance with one of the ladies. Can you give us a way to reach the parents?"

"Um yeah, can it wait?" Gordie asked tentatively.

"Let's go."

The attendant, Gordie, and both of the old ladies got into the ambulance with the other attendants and Chris and drove off, the sirens of the ambulance damaging her eardrums.

Abbie turned and looked around her. Nothing. It was all nothing, just a few shacks. There was no one around, and she wondered whether anybody could hear Chris's cries for help during the night. Abbie took a deep breath. It was odd how she felt about this; she wasn't crying or anything, which surprised her quite a bit. But she could have cried when she saw a certain someone strutting out of Chris's house.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Miss Abbie, also known as "the girl who had passionate sex with my little brother and loves him so…" What are you doing here?"

Abbie froze. Her mind told her to move her ass, but her body was as still as a statue. How did Eyeball know?

"Speechless today, eh?"

"Wha-YOU!" Abbie suddenly realized, "You did that to Chris! But- your father-"

"Out for the weekend," Eyeball explained, a smug smirk on his face, starting towards her, "You know, I've had a thing for you for such a long time. And you know, I'm used to getting my way. So guess who will come out of this-ah-dispute as the winner?"

Abbie stared him down, "I will. You are nothing but a lowlife. You live up to that goddamn reputation, Eyeball. You'll never be the man your brother is," she hissed. White hot anger was surging through her. How could Eyeball do this to his little brother when he saw his father beating on him, plus himself? Eyeball knew what pain Chris was going through, why couldn't he give his brother a fucking hand?

"You bitch, I'm gonna have another field day with you!" Eyeball claimed, grabbing her left arm.

And with her right hand….SMACK! She hit Eyeball across the face with all the strength she could muster. Then, she kneed him in his balls, and then poked him in his eyes, getting him extra hard in his bad one. He howled in pain, and let go of her arm. And Abbie fled.

She wasn't going to let anything like the rape happen to her ever again.


"This one?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Well, then how about this one?"

"Nuh-uh."

"This one?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Can you say anything else besides nuh-fucking-uh?" Emma exclaimed, frustrated.

"Nuh-uh," Teddy answered, a playful smirk obvious on his adorable face.

"I don't think he can, Em," Vern agreed.

"Did I ask you Vern? No."

"Well, can't I say something once in awhile?"

"NO!" Teddy and Emma shouted, Vern rolling his eyes.

The three were looking around for baby clothes in a tacky clothing store. Emma insisted that they at least try to buy one set for a girl and one for a boy, but Teddy wouldn't hear any of it. He was so convinced that his child would be a boy that he already bought him a baseball bat. Vern? He had basically become the tag-along now.

"Teddy, we have to at least buy one pair of girl clothes," Emma told him.

"No! I refuse!" Teddy responded proudly, "I will not have girl clothes for my boy."

"Hey, he could be a transvestite, if you wanna," Vern cut in.

"My child will NOT be a transvestite, you morphadite!" Emma and Teddy yelled at Vern in unison.

Emma began to walk farther down the aisle, searching for clothes. Most of it was all frilly, flowery stuff, and Emma wasn't up for that type of stuff. Maybe Teddy was right, maybe they should dress whatever it is in boy's clothes….

"You are gonna make a great dad, don't worry about what Gordie says," Vern encouraged.

"I'm not," Teddy replied, checking out his hair through the metal hangers holding a rack of pants, "Gordie's such a loser, I don't listen to him and his dorky stories anymore."

Teddy turned around the face Vern, his hair combed into a Beatles style.

"Looks fabulous man," Vern sucked up.

Teddy knew that lately Vern had been kissing his ass. And he was enjoying every minute of it.

"Yeah, I know. I wonder if Emma digs the hair. Hey, Ems!" Teddy called.

When there was no answer, Teddy tried again, "Em Gem?"

Teddy began to wander up and down the aisles, in search of Emma. Suddenly, his eyes grew wide.

"VERN! VERN GODDAMNIT, CALL THE AMBULANCE!"

A/N: Ok, I really hope that didn't suck. Don't worry, it all leads up to something.