A/N: I'm incredibly sorry about the delay. College hit me harder than I thought it would and it probably will for the foreseeable future. I'm sticking with this story, never fear, but my chapters won't be so regular. Please, please, pretty please leave reviews. They really help me figure out what I'm doing right and wrong.
In a rare moment of humanity that was definitely not mandated by the Total Drama legal team, Chris decided to give the campers two days in between challenges to make up for the "incident" on the last episode. The days were meant to be filled with both rest and relaxation, but due to the campers' current location, both were in short supply. Boney Island was not known for its relaxing properties. The Wooley Beavers were still upset at Izzy's treatment of their brethren from the first episode, leading them to make periodic incursions into the camp. It took the combined efforts of both Izzy and Chef to fend them off, and a few interns were lost in the process, not like anyone outside of their families really cared.
As for the campers themselves, on the other hand, most enjoyed the time off. Any break at all after the recent events was much needed. Courtney spent a lot of the time on Boney Island's meager excuse for a beach tanning in the hopes of actually getting some benefit out of the island. Unfortunately, for some ungodly reason, the sun she absorbed would only come back to hurt her in her forties as cancerous spots, but that is neither here nor there.
Lightning spent as much time as he could with Dawn. To both of their credits, most of that time was spent talking. Dawn felt that she needed to unload some of the heavy weight she bore after being continually exposed to people's auras, and Lightning was perfect for this task as a lot of the information flew over his head. What he walked away with from the intense conversations was that there was still an immense feeling of evil and dread encircling the island. Dawn constantly said that the situation would only get worse due to an interloper, confusing Lightning in the process. He loved this girl but she said some weird things sometimes. Like, what the hell was an interloper?
Harold and Izzy were engaged in some deep thinking of their own. Both had issues dangling over their heads like Damocles' proverbial sword. For Harold, the fallout of a brief remark Leshawna made on her way off the island. For Izzy, the deep funk that her lifelong friend had fallen into.
Harold had heard Leshawna say "we're friends, nothing more." He could comprehend the words individually. He could even understand how the words fit together as well as the theoretical sentence that they created. He couldn't for the life of him, however, understand the words. How could it be true? His fair maiden Leshawna, not interested in him at all except to be friends? Not possible. Had he misread signs over the years? This news, if true, completely changed his world. He'd had perceptions of himself entirely dependent on Leshawna's affection; without that, he was a different person. And, to top this miserable sundae off, the only person he could have talked to about these issues had already been eliminated from the show. Noah would have understood and sympathized. These other people? No chance in hell.
Izzy was conflicted. Her friend had fallen into a silence that was unlike anything she'd ever seen from him. He wasn't this quiet even after he'd been released from the hospital after...well, you know. Brick and Lightning told her that he hadn't run with them but instead had been running on his own, seemingly with the purpose of running himself into the ground. They were early risers, getting up around 5:30, but they reported that they saw James just finishing one of his runs at around 5, drenched in sweat and running with the same intensity as someone perpetually trapped in a fight-or-flight decision. The post-run workout he did scared the two for its sheer anger.
He was trying to work through his very complicated feelings. Every meal he took, every shower, every bathroom trip was done without any social interaction whatsoever. Nobody could get through to him, which didn't bother Zoey or Courtney much, but tugged at everybody else's heartstrings. They wanted to reach out to him but couldn't find a way to do so. Izzy walked to the mess tent, finding Heather and Dawn talking quietly inside. Grabbing a plate of Chef's patented food-like substance, she made her way over to the girls, considering that team boundaries were temporarily withdrawn.
This was the third day with no challenge before breakfast, giving the girls plenty of conversation fodder. They knew that the merger was imminent. Izzy added that Courtney was not to be trusted due to her scheming. Dawn repeated that an evil presence was still gripping the island, something that she had said at least twenty times in the past three days. Heather finally drew the line.
"Why do you keep saying that? We get it. If you can't give us specific details, shut the hell up!"
Dawn's mouth sagged briefly. "Heather, I'm sorry. You know I can only say what the spirits find fit to tell me."
"You've never explained how this process works. Same with the auras you're always going on about. You give vague little warnings and sayings and expect us just to follow them blindly. How are we supposed to trust that?"
The moonchild sighed. "Auras are an energy field that radiate out from every person. I read their colors and interpret them. With the spirits, they'll place a thought in my head and I have to interpret it the best that I can. I know it's hard to trust but you have to for James's sake."
The other two girls both shot up. "What do you mean, for his sake?" Heather asked cautiously.
"The spirits warn me that he's volatile right now."
"No shit."
"No, he is-"
Before she could finish her sentence, a thump-thump-thump sound filled the air. Izzy was familiar with the sound after years of running from the RCMP. "That's a helicopter!"
The girls left the tent, puzzled. Coming outside, they found the other campers doing the same. Making matters even more confusing was that Chris was standing outside just the same with his obnoxious smile shining.
"So, if that's not Chris, who is it?" Courtney wondered.
The helicopter itself was sleek and looked obscenely expensive. The cockpit windshield was at a diagonal angle, with the glass panes continuing into the body itself of the chopper. The chopper was painted a white with blue streaks highlighting the body. The back rotors were in a fan-in-fin arrangement, adding to the overall look. Painted on the side doors of the chopper were the Canadian flag as well as, curiously, the Olympic rings.
James ambled up, drawn like others by the noise. What he saw made his blood turn cold. "That's my dad's," he whispered.
He was closest to Zoey when he spoke, and seeing as this was the first thing he'd said in three days, she turned in surprise.
"Did you say that's your dad's helicopter?"
The Olympian nodded, but his face was an enigma. His jaw was set and he was intentionally keeping his face blank. The others had spun around to hear the short exchange, but the helicopter landed in a nearby clearing, momentarily regaining their attention.
A ramp dropped down from the seating compartment. A man walked down the steps.
The first thing the campers noticed was his stride. It oozed raw confidence. In much the same way that Heather had made her entrance on TDI, this man coolly sauntered out of the helicopter. He was a fairly tall man, about 6 feet flat, and was muscular. If this was James's dad, he wasn't as muscular as his son nor as tall, but he was roughly as built as Alejandro. He had thick black hair cut short in a classic crew cut with a well-trimmed black goatee. The female campers could tell that he was James's father due to their similar eyes and noses, but this man was slightly less classically handsome. He was wearing aviators, again drawing a parallel to Heather's notorious entrance, as well as a baby blue polo shirt. The baby blue shirt was balanced out by black chinos that complemented his frame as well as light tan sneakers. For the campers that knew their designer brands, they could tell that his outfit, while casual, also cost a casual few thousand dollars. At the bottom of the ramp, the man paused to glance around a moment before identifying his target. He smiled and started to walk towards the target.
"Chris, you old sonofabitch!"
The host rewarded the new arrival with his genuine smile, the kind that had made McLean a teen icon while he was in a boy band. Most of his smiles nowadays were forced, but this one was entirely real.
"Brad, you asshole! Get over here!"
The two men walked over to each other before extending their right hands. What followed next was a comically intricate handshake that lasted for much longer than it should have. After its conclusion, the two men put their hands to their mouths and shouted "Rho Omega Theta!" The two collapsed into gales of laughter that were only cut short for them to add some meaningless small talk. While this was going on, the campers had walked into the clearing and huddled around the men. Whatever this man was here for, it had to be part of the day's challenge or it had to be for James.
Chris noticed their arrival and wiped a tear of laughter from his face. "So, Brad, there any reason you're joining us today?"
"Chris, my man, have you seen my son?"
Chris's smile grew larger. "Yes, yes I have. I think he's right at the back of that group over there."
"Well, that won't do. James, son, step forward."
The group parted like the Red Sea, exposing the Olympian. He walked slowly to the front of the campers, pausing in front of his dad, before standing at ease military-style, with his hands behind his back at his butt and his legs spread slightly. He wore a look of mortal terror, something that Zoey noticed. Who gets that nervous when they see their parents?
Brad was still smiling. "Hi son, how are you? How have the last few days been?"
James spoke hesitantly. "Sir, I had a momentary stumble two-"
He never saw the fist.
Before the other campers could react, Brad had sent a right hook into James's face. He caught James in the eye hard, which due to the impact made the Olympian fall to the ground.
The campers gasped, while Chris beamed and motioned for the cameraman to zoom in on the conflict brewing. Most of them wanted to step forward but were restrained by some line that they couldn't understand. Familial conflicts were complicated matters. Maybe there was some inside joke they didn't get? Maybe there was some reason to explain this?
There wasn't. James was on all fours but hadn't said anything. Brad's smile vanished, replaced by a scowl. He looked at his son with utter contempt and growled, "get up."
James knew better than to try to address his wound. He stood cautiously before getting knocked right back down by another ruthless right hook. He knew he had to stand, he had to be strong, but every time he did his dad would knock him down. After another five punches to his face, James reached a point where he had accepted staying down. Brad smiled. His son was finally willing to listen to reason.
"You are weak. You know that shit was four years ago, right? Stop being a pussy about it. We've been over this before, you're making way too big of a deal about this." He walked towards his son and grabbed the front of his shirt, picking his body up. James looked up to see a fist still aimed towards his head. Brad began to accentuate his words with a punch.
"You know what you did two days ago? You *punch* embarrassed *punch* me, and when you embarrass *punch* me, you embarrass *punch* Canada." With this last right hook out of the way, he let his son drop. James hit the ground on all fours before struggling once more to his feet. The end had to be coming, which he knew from past experience.
Brad decided to show off his range, adding in some left jabs to the stomach as well as quick hooks from both hands to every part of the body. James instinctively wanted to cover up but had to keep his hands behind him. Any resistance whatsoever and his dad would add more. Brad kept his repertoire of comments up all the while, throwing physical and verbal jabs with equal abandon. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity but in reality was five minutes, Brad stepped back from his son. James, for the last time, sank to his knees.
James's face was a landscape fresh from Dante Alighieri's Circles of Hell. His peers could only gaze on in horror at the copious amount of blood pouring out of orifices that shouldn't have had blood pouring out of them. While they couldn't know, James's field of vision was greatly reduced due to the blood pooling in his eyes from cuts just above and just below each. His nose was dislocated, his lips were split and swelling, and his chin had acquired a new cleft. Any confidence whatsoever had been beaten out of the Olympian. His head dropped.
Brad was satisfied. Viewing his handiwork put him in a good mood. He wiped his hands off on his chinos while turning to walk back to his helicopter. He and Chris exchanged some more pleasantries as if nothing had happened before an idea struck Brad. He faced his still-kneeling son. "And you know that Asian whore you've been talking to? That's fine, you can keep talking to her if you want. Only if you do, don't expect to have a home when you're done with the show. You don't step foot in my fucking house if I see you talk to that harlot."
Heather jumped, surprised by the passion behind the words. She looked towards James to see how he'd react, and to her surprise, those words finally caused him to stir. His head rose enough to see his dad depart on his helicopter and, while Heather would doubt it later, she believed that she saw real flashes of anger for the first time during the exchange.
James slumped down one more time, but not before a single tear ran down the right side of his face. As a morbidly interested Zoey watched, the tear cleared a trail through the blood that otherwise entirely covered his face.
"And with that, James is eliminated from today's challenge!" Chris piped in. This was going so much better than he could have ever hoped for.
The other campers whirled to face the host. "What?!" Heather screamed. "How the hell was that a challenge?!"
"Today's challenge is focused on our second-favorite jock here, Lightning. You have to face the wrath of your parents, and if you can do it without shedding a single tear, you earn a point for your team! Simple as that. James already lost. Not a good few days for you, huh, big guy?"
Chris leered at the still-kneeling Olympian before James rose on shaky legs. The runner walked towards the host before doing something every Total Drama contestant ever had wanted to do.
Cocking his fist back, he unleashed a punch that leveled Chris. It caught him on the left side of the face, knocking Chris to the ground while also knocking the smile off his face. Chef immediately ran to his boss's side in an effort to restrain James, but the runner had turned on his heel and walked silently away. Brick put a hand on James's shoulder to get the runner to stop; sadly, James rejected this effort at companionship and shrugged the hand off before stalking off.
Chris stood slowly, blinking back into consciousness before remembering where he was. "That little shit is so dead! Before any of you even think about trying that again, anyone who assaults the host is immediately disqualified. And, for that little stunt, James will not be getting any medical attention. We're going to keep this show moving to dissuade you guys from trying to make that tough guy feel any better.
"Oh, one thing. Izzy, when we tried to contact your parents for this challenge, we got a message from the RCMP asking about your whereabouts. We, uh, don't want to be investigated, so you get automatic immunity for this challenge."
Confessional
Zoey (scared): What the hell was that?! Also, does that mean that Izzy really is a threat? Jeez, this show gets more and more threatening by the day.
End of Confessional
Some interns wheeled a video projector up next to Chris before plugging in various cables. Harold could see that they were trying to allow people from other areas Zoom into the Island, meaning that other parents were not likely to come and beat their children as James's dad had.
Chris removed the ice that he'd been given for his eye and faced the group of teenagers. "Next up for the emotional pain train is Harold!"
A woman appeared on the screen with hair as bright red as her son's. She looked to be in her forties, with her hair in a bob that flowed around both sides of her head. She was a striking woman, meaning that Harold hit the branches of the genetic ugly tree on his dad's side. After fiddling with her computer for a few seconds, she finally saw her son, causing her to beam.
"Harry!"
Her son was still taken aback by the level of violence that he'd seen mere minutes earlier. His reticence in answering confused his mother, causing her to wonder if this was a bad time.
"Gosh, I'm sorry mom. Chris is really pushing us this year, so, uh, stuff's pretty serious."
She nodded knowingly. "I saw that Leshawna was eliminated. I'm sorry Harry, I know you were sweet on her."
"She was my entire world, mom. Remember when I went to the gym? That was all for her. And then she said...she said…'' The words wouldn't come. Even the act of repeating what Leshawna had said was too much to bear because verbalizing them would be a form of confirming their meaning. Harold fought the wave of despair that was threatening to overwhelm him.
"Listen, Harry, honey, I'm going to say something you need to hear right now. Listening?"
"Yes, mom." He knew the outline of the challenge but didn't really care. The emotional relief that even one tear would give him right now was too great for him to worry about some dumb challenge and its implications towards a five million dollar prize.
His mom recognized this and acted swiftly. "You can do better."
"What?" That wasn't what he expected to hear at all. Any sadness was forgotten in the shock of the moment.
"You're smart, kind, charming, outgoing, adaptable, and compassionate. You're a perfect boyfriend, you just don't realize it. Once these girls figure that out you'll forget about what's-her-name in no time at all. She wasn't treating you right anyway. She didn't respect you."
Harold stood, even more stunned than he had been. He was still locked in place, but this time it was from the force of revelations hitting him simultaneously, while the first time had been in sheer terror. "You really mean that?"
"Of course I do! I wouldn't lie to my son about something like this."
Confessional
Heather: I wouldn't say perfect boyfriend, but some of those things are true. Dork just needs to get in good enough shape to be able to lift a donut and he'd already be a better catch.
End of Confessional
Harold's despair was forgotten. His faith in himself reignited, any thoughts of tears were thrown away as quickly as they had arrived. He thanked his mom for the kind words and the two ended the call.
Chris was enraged. "Where are the tears?! Where's the emotional turmoil?! This sucks. Harold wins immunity with no tears shed. The Muskrats have a lead for now. Heather, let's see how much your parents hate you now."
Heather paled but stepped up to the proverbial plate. She had to remind herself that no matter what they said, it wouldn't be nearly as bad as what James had just been through.
The Zoom call started, showing off one of the numerous rooms in Heather's home. Her father and her mother stared impatiently at the screen. Her father was a muscular man rocking a gray combover, glasses, a pink polo shirt, and a Rolex on his wrist. Her mother's olive long sleeve top was cut low enough to show off her modest cleavage and the earrings she wore cost more than a new car. Both complemented their expensive clothing with identical scowls. Brick could see where Heather got her disposition from.
"About time they let us talk to you." Her dad was not thrilled to even have to spend time in the virtual presence of his least-favorite daughter.
"Hi daddy, hi mom. How did your business deal go, daddy?" Heather asked in a weaker tone of voice than anybody on the show had ever heard. Gone was the domineering Queen Bee. In her place was a scared little girl, someone who was aware that every word had the potential to be a misstep.
Heather's dad did not respond to the conversational gambit. "Brad's a member of our country club. He handled his kid properly. I wish we could do the same thing to you but it'd be a waste of our sweat."
"You really are a whore, you know? You run through guys like toilet paper. I'm surprised we're not great-grandparents by now. And now, for some inconceivable reason, Canada's Pride has an interest in you and you can't see it. You're truly mentally defective if you can't see that." This time, it was her mom's turn to interject.
Heather, in an unconscious parody of the aforementioned Olympian, hung her head. This was news to the majority of other campers, who looked at each other wide-eyed. James and Heather?
Confessional
Lightning: Sha-WHAT?! Dude, that's not a good move!
Zoey: I don't want to say I knew it, but I did call that something was up. Now, I just need to see what angle they're playing.
Courtney (fuming): This makes post-merger plans impossible! I might have to leave some things to chance! Unless… (strokes her chin)
End of Confessional
"Why even go back to the show? You're not winning again, you ended the relationship with Alejandro, bless him, and now you think you can make friends? Please. Heather, again, you should be smarter than this."
At this point, it didn't matter which parent was talking. Both were spitting venom at their daughter that would have transformed any of the other campers (save James, who would have been grateful for a verbal beatdown) into a quivering mess. However, Heather was an expert at suppressing her feelings in service of her public image. Inwardly, she felt almost as low as she had at the absolute depths of the breakup. Outwardly, she kept a stiff upper lip and tried to posture as if she wasn't bothered in the slightest.
After a full five minute verbal destruction of their daughter, the two adults flipped a switch and lost interest. They signalled for Chris to end the call, which he did after affirming that they had nothing else they wanted to say.
The other campers turned expectedly towards Heather, breathlessly awaiting the flood of tears that was sure to follow the horrifically cruel comments. Chris signalled for the cameraman to zoom in on her face. After a few beats, Heather swallowed the lump in her throat and made eye contact with Chris. There would be no tears from her.
Again, the host threw up his hands in frustration. "Good god! What is with you guys! Heather, your parents despise you! Does that not bother you at all?"
Any verbal response would have broken her wall, so she shook her head. This was not the answer Chris was looking for.
"Fine! The Wombats have one point on the board. Next up for the Muskrats is Lightning. Let's hope this one is better than the others."
Lightning stepped up in front of the video screen. Of the three parental interactions so far, he really hoped that his would be closer to Harold's than James's or Heather's.
A fairly young black man appeared on screen. His hair was longer than his son's, and was allowed to be naturally kinky instead of the more forced straightness his son favored. He still looked like a professional athlete, and had the swagger to match. This was Daniel Jackson, Canada's answer to Lebron James and Messi all rolled up into one. He was the only man alive to win championships in four major sports. He was known as one of the greatest athletes in world history. Lightning knew him as Pops.
"Pops! It's Lightning!" He had the same apprehensive tone that Heather had.
"Boy, I know who it is. I ain't blind."
The uber-jock wasn't used to feeling anything but the utmost confidence. However, dealing with his father made him feel incredibly unpleasant. He felt insecure, which is something that only nerds should feel. For as much as Lightning had done, he was not able to compare to his father. By the time he was 18, Daniel had already been drafted into La Liga, the NBA, and was in the farm system of an MLB team. By comparison, Lightning had been on a reality show-and lost. To a nerd. Losing his father's four championship rings in the process.
"How you doin Pops?"
"Stop. You went on this dumbass show to win, right? To make up for your...mistake last time? Boy, you doing nothing like that. You let Canada's Pride make you look slow. You let that Ale-whatever make you look dumb. You let Courtney use you. And now I see you fooling around with that white girl? Hell no. You're no son of mine. My sons are winners; you, Lightning, you are a loser."
With this grand proclamation, Daniel ended the Zoom call. He had interviews to do for sports magazines and couldn't be bothered to stick around for more time.
His son was in shambles. Ever since the ROTI finale, Lightning had believed that his father thought some, if not all, of those things. However, his father had never definitively articulated those things to him. Hearing his biggest insecurity exploited and exposed broke a dam in Lightning that he didn't expect to have left. To almost everyone's surprise, Lightning immediately broke out into tears after his dad hung up the call. His sobs were chest-wracking, explosive in nature. Dawn ran to his side in an effort to calm her down. Instead, her presence had the unintended consequence of making his crying louder. Lightning hated himself more for looking weak in front of the girl who he felt so strongly about, only exacerbating his emotional pain.
Chris's demonic smile returned. Similar to the titular character from Stephen King's IT, he delighted in the pain of those around him. Seeing another teenager reduced to tears over their parent's resentment was as delicious to McLean as a mother's freshly-baked chocolate cookies would be to anybody more well-adjusted.
Confessional
Zoey: I'm beginning to think Gwen made the right choice. I'm not friends with any of the people who've had their calls so far, but come on! This is awful! Can Chris really do this?
Brick: I've been taught to resist most forms of psychological torture the enemy can throw at you. Robo-calls, wet socks, crinkling wrappers, everything. [voice cracks slightly] They didn't prepare me for this!
End of Confessional
"And Lightning is eliminated! The score is still 2-1 in favor of the Muskrats. Let's see if we can make all the manly men cry, so next up is Brick!"
The cadet stepped proudly to the screen, standing at ease, similar to how James had stood. After a few seconds of hesitation, the screen flickered to life.
Only his father showed on the screen. Not because Brick's parents were somehow separated, but because Brick's father felt so strongly that he needed to see and speak to his son alone. His father was an older man, in his late fifties, wearing the dress uniform of an admiral in the Royal Canadian Uniform. He wore a black uniform jacket with gold epaulettes, gold piping designating his rank on his sleeves, a golden cord hanging from his right shoulder, and a bevy of multi-colored medals on his left breast. His face was grizzled and tanned, reflecting his years of service aboard an aircraft carrier in the Pacific Ocean. Seeing his father, Brick snapped to attention, causing his father to return the salute. The Admiral even wore the white gloves mandated by the dress uniform.
"Sir! Cadet McArthur, ready to report, sir!"
"At ease, Brick." This slight violation of military protocol told Brick a great deal. Namely, that whatever his father had to say was important. He was a military man and lived by a military code. Breaking the code meant something serious was afoot.
"Son, there's something I've had on my mind for a while. Seeing your performance this season so far has finally convinced me that it's the right time to address it."
Brick held his breath. Whatever followed next would be unpredictable.
"Sir?"
"Brick. Son. I'm more proud of you than ever. You've been a good soldier, always there to support and look out for your squad. Even in the first challenge, your encyclopedic knowledge of military armaments saved lives. You place others above yourself constantly. You are the best son I could have ever hoped for. Chris wanted me to make you cry but I have no intention of doing so. Now, go. Return to your friends. If all goes well, you'll be five million dollars richer. If not, you gave it your all. Now, soldier, don't forget there's an officer on deck."
Brick's mouth had dropped open at the effusive praise. After hearing the reminder about military protocol, Brick snapped back to a salute, which his father crisply returned before signing off. In the quiet that followed the Zoom call, Brick felt proud of his own abilities for once. Ironically, this also made him begin to tear up, in happiness though.
Dawn noticed this and briefly pulled herself off a still-distraught Lightning to offer some encouragement. "Brick, don't cry! We still need to accomplish some more before this challenge is over. I believe that you're strong enough to resist this!"
Hearing the friendly words almost overwhelmed the cadet, again, almost making tears spill onto his cheeks. Instead, Brick gained a measure of composure and swallowed any tears that might have fallen. There would be no crying from him.
Chris shook his head. "The score is now 2-2. We're going to take a brief break while we wait for some of our other campers' parents to get home from work. Until then, you're watching
Total
Drama
Send-off!"
He walked away, disappointment evident.
…
…
She had seen him walk over to his cabin. He hadn't said a word since his dad's departure from the island. Even during the beatdown, he had stayed silent except for grunts and the occasional "yes, sir." He hadn't even bothered to receive medical attention despite the gory state his face was in. Making matters worse, he ignored everything else around him. She had asked Izzy about this, and his lifelong friend had said something that scared her slightly.
"He's, uh… he's angry. Really angry. Just leave it alone, Heather. It's not worth it right now."
She didn't understand the feeling at all. He had just been tuned up by his father on international television, and because he had shed a single tear, he was potentially even up for elimination on the reality show he was on. All this because of the challenge from two days ago, as well. In a cosmic understatement, he was not having a good time.
She made her way inside. He had his back turned and his duffel out on his bed. His clothes were neatly folded into squares that would have passed an army inspection. Most of his luggage was running-related, and he was packing this into a separate backpack. She heard a soft blip...blip noise, and it took her a second to realize that that noise was blood dripping off his broken nose. She tracked one drop as it fell in the air. The drop of blood rolled to the bottom of his nose before hanging in the air; mesmerized, she watched the drop as it teased her before finally dropping to the wooden floor below.
Originally, her visit had been meant to reassure him. That changed. Seeing James just...give up like this terrified Heather. If he had his breaking point, what could hers be? He was the second person she'd ever let significant portions of her guard down around, and while she knew it was selfish, she didn't want him to leave. Him leaving would put her right back where she started. No significant other, no friends, not even any acquaintances. While she was developing healthier emotional reactions, this was too much to handle, so she retreated to the safety of her past behavior: anger.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
No response. He kept packing.
"I didn't know you were this big of a pussy. You're hot but just a little too much of a wimp for my tastes."
Still nothing. She did notice that he started to shake slightly. Just as she thought he would, he was crying.
"Leave now before I say something we both regret."
That's strange. His voice was completely composed. Didn't matter. Heather had to save face so she kept poking the bear. "Please, what can 'Canada's Pride' really say that'll make me mad? You couldn't even fight back against your dad, so what makes you think you can criticize me?"
He whipped around, leading her to recognize immediately that she'd screwed up. He hadn't been shaking because he was crying. He was trembling with rage. His normally relaxed features were twisted into a mask of pure hatred made macabre by the dripping blood and blossoming black eye. She unconsciously took a step back and heard a little snap. It didn't register at first before she realized what she heard. He had been holding onto a bedpost when he turned. His fist had just tightened and turned the wood laminate into kindling.
His nostrils flared. It took every ounce of his strength to not yell. What he had to say was important enough to warrant that much. "I was wrong about you."
"What?"
He chose his words carefully, each calculated to cause the maximum amount of pain. "I had this image of you in my head. Flawed but someone who could change. You opening up to me on the cliff, you talking to Gwen, what you did two days ago all seemed to prove that. I'll be forever grateful to you for the last one, by the way. I thought that you had gotten a bad rep from TD and that once I got to know you, you'd change. I was wrong."
He walked a little closer, still trembling. "Right now you want so badly for me to stay. Not because you particularly care about me but because I am the only one on this island who can understand you. I thought that we had a genuine connection. I was wrong. I was being used. Until you learn to grow the fuck up and express your emotions in a healthy way, you're going to keep driving people away. That's what you said on the cliff, right? That everybody hated you? Have you ever sat down and wondered what the common denominator is? If every single person you've ever met walks away thinking badly about you, it shouldn't take a genius to figure out what the problem is.
"It's you. You're the problem. I'm at the absolute lowest of lows right now. I mean, look at me, Heather! I'm fucking dripping blood from wounds that my dad caused because he was unhappy that I had a PTSD freakout! And you walk in here and call me a pussy. What the hell is your problem? You're emotionally stunted and seem perfectly willing to just...throw away every relationship you possibly have."
His voice had started to carry. Izzy had been outside the cabin since Heather had marched her way over but this made her walk over to the steps. She stood just outside, listening at a discrete distance to the one-sided argument. The redhead had never seen James this mad. She'd seen him angry, but this...this was rage. She thought it was a rage born out of disappointment, making it burn even brighter.
"I care about you a lot. I want to see you happy and I want to be one of the reasons you're happy. But, until you figure some of your own shit out, don't you dare add to my problems. Get the fuck outta my cabin."
His speech over, he turned back to packing his things. He heard a slight creaking come from the rundown floorboards, indicating that Heather had run off, probably crying. He hadn't meant to go as far as he did. But, his temper had taken over and he had possibly ruined the best chance at happiness he'd ever have.
Another creak in the floorboards. This one was lighter. Someone who was used to walking quietly.
"You know you can't leave, right?"
Izzy.
"I don't see why I can't."
Izzy nodded sadly. He was stubborn which would make this more difficult. She had a card to play that she really didn't want to have to use, but there was no other option.
"If you leave, and if he sees you quit, he'll beat you worse when you get back."
James turned slowly. His face fell, telling her that he hadn't even considered that possibility.
"You have to stick it out. I'm sorry but you really can't leave. If you lose, lose with dignity. You can't force anything because your dad is still watching this show and will act on anything he sees."
"Iz, I don't have dignity anymore. Between one word sending me into, what, a twelve-hour bitch fit and now getting absolutely rocked by my father for that bitch fit, what point is there for me to stay?" His voice had started out defiant, but as the full measure of his injuries washed over him, his voice dropped in quiet awe. He was fucked. "Iz, I...I...I can't do this. At least I know what I'm getting into at home. What if Chris makes us do something worse? I don't even think I'm strong enough to remove myself like Gwen."
His clothing was packed entirely. After throwing some of his toiletries into a separate compartment, he turned to his lifelong friend. "I'm gonna go for a walk. If I'm not back by tomorrow morning I left the island. Iz, you're the best friend I could have ever asked for." Dropping his serious face for a moment, he added, "oh, and by the way, don't screw up your audition for a CW show next time. God knows Riverdale could use you." He left the cabin, and Izzy, behind as he ventured out into the wilderness.
…
…
Back at the challenge area, Chris had signalled for the brief intermission period to come to an end. The next camper on the possible chopping block was Courtney.
Courtney's parents were a mystery to the campers. She had to have learned how to be the anal-retentive counselor she was somewhere in life. Could it be that she had an overbearing mother? Maybe a father who spoiled his little princess rotten? Either one was equally valid.
As the Zoom call started, the remaining campers gathered around to watch the spectacle.
Zoey ambled over to Brick, not only to get some reassurance, but also to discuss whatever might happen. She wrapped the still-emotional cadet in a hug from behind. "Brick, your dad was so happy! That was so cute!"
He blushed slightly. "He's never said stuff like that before. It felt really nice to hear." Trying to cover his embarrassment, he shifted the conversation. "How do you think Courtney's will go?"
Zoe shrugged, more from confusion than indifference. "She never talks about her family. I legitimately don't know."
Returning to the focus of the cameras, Courtney eyed the screen warily. This was not a challenge she saw coming, but after observing how the others had been treated, she thought that she could identify the correct way to handle the situation.
The pixels on the screen formed into the subject of so much wondering: Courtney's parents. Both were seated in an expansive garden with their seats framed by two elderly maple trees. The garden had topiaries of various animals in the background. Some of the campers' eyes widened at this detail. They had money like that, it appeared. Turning their attention back to Courtney's parents, they noticed that the wealth was not as reflected in their dress. Courtney's parents were both Hispanic, and both dressed relatively plainly, at least compared to Heather's ostentatious parents. Courtney's dad was around 45, with the heavyset eyes of a man who's seen tough labor for longer than he'd like to remember. His left cheek bore a thin diagonal scar, setting off his tan features and brown eyes well. His black hair was obviously starting to recede but he made no effort to conceal it.
Courtney's mother, on the other hand, was slightly younger. Dawn estimated that she was around 35, and she looked every part the trophy wife. She couldn't know that the two had a genuine love that most could only dream of but that's a story for another writer. Courtney's mother had an aquiline nose which was her most striking feature. Seeing her mother look down that nose used to terrify Courtney as a child; those days were long gone by now. Other than that, an outsider could have been forgiven for thinking that Courtney and her mother were sisters. The two looked alike so much that every cheesy entrance line a boyfriend had ever given the mother had turned out to have a kernel of truth behind it.
The two started to speak before Courtney overrode them. "Mom, Father, where have the two of you been? You kept me waiting!"
"Sorry, mi princesa, the Zoom connection was unsteady for a while and-"
The CIT stamped her foot. "No, Father, you don't understand! Every second you spend procrastinating takes away from my planning time! You want me to win, right? You care even that little about your only daughter, correct?"
"Well, yes, honey, your father and I both care about you a lot, as you know but…"
"No buts! I don't know if I even want to speak to you after this pitiful display!"
If anything, the parents looked closer to tears than their daughter did. They conferred privately for less than ten seconds before acknowledging Chris. "Chris, we wish to end the call now."
"WHAT? But you haven't said anything that you wanted to say!"
Courtney's dad just shook his head. "Our daughter is right. This is a serious distraction for her which she doesn't need. We tried our best but Courtney knows better." Not even giving Chris the chance to interject, the two logged off the call, severing the link between the campers and Courtney's privileged world for at least a little bit longer. Needless to say, the remaining campers were appalled, while Courtney smirked triumphantly.
Confessional
Courtney: Listen, I know it doesn't look great, but c'mon. (Smiles) I got out ahead of a problem and look how it turned out.
Zoey (again surprised): What was that? How did she get away with talking to her parents like that? It makes no sense. This challenge is weird!
End of Confessional
Chris didn't quite like how the last few parental interviews had gone. In his contract, his role had been defined as someone hired exclusively to bring in ratings, through whatever means possible. He was given leeway on the challenges to accomplish this goal, but if the teens weren't going to play along with his ideas, that meant his job was being threatened. In Chris's world, you don't mess with the money. He'd never admit it, but he felt bad for Heather after the World Tour finale. Losing the money because some freak had taken it? Chris related to that more than he'd like to admit. What those little shits were doing right now could potentially come back and hurt his money, however, meaning he was not in a good mood at all.
He knew he still had to get through two more interviews, however. Tragically, these last two were shaping up to be the most boring of the bunch. Dawn and Zoey. Whatever. Chris was on this show for a reason: to bring drama to places it didn't belong. He could do this.
"And the Muskrats take the lead, 3-2! Courtney, that was a little weird, but if you get results you get results. We're entering the homestretch now. Our last two campers to go are Zoey and Dawn. Do either one of you care who goes first?"
The girls looked at each other, each one subtly probing to see if there was something the other wanted to hide about their home life. Seeing nothing, both girls shook their heads. They were fine leaving this up to chance.
Chris scrutinized the two options he had in front of him. One, Zoey, had already admitted before that she was a friendless loser in her hometown. The other, Dawn, was more mysterious but probably also had some version of a tragic backstory. All things considered, it would probably be a safer bet to go with the proven emotional commodity.
"Alright then, Zoey, please get ready for your emotional torment! Step up to the screen and get ready."
Dawn placed a comforting hand on the indie girl's shoulder before continuing to tend to Lightning. Lightning's crying had stopped but was now replaced with extreme shuddering. She knew she'd have to step away from him at some point but delaying the inevitable would be beneficial to all.
Zoey kept her head held high, avoiding the angsty walk that many of the others turned to. She wasn't sure what Chris might have said to her family, but she knew that her parents loved her more than the other campers' apparently did...or at least, she thought she knew.
As an only child, and as someone who was extremely unpopular in school, Zoey was used to feeling lonely. Her isolation from her peers had been helped largely by her time on Total Drama, even leading her to become a bit of a celebrity in her hometown like Gwen had. And, just like Gwen, the newfound celebrity status only made Zoey feel worse. Her only true friends were those she made on the show. This challenge, though, was threatening to hurt the relationships she cared about the most in the world. Before Total Drama, the only people in the world that Zoey could confide in were her parents. If they had something hurtful to say about their daughter, the psychological damage could be catastrophic.
The screen once again flickered to life, showing a stereotypically middle-aged couple. The man, Zoey's father, had receding brown hair to go with a salt-and-pepper beard. His face was kind, if a little stern. He wore a Green Bay Packers shirt, and if asked, would have told the campers about his love of grilling. The woman, Zoey's mother, wore her blond hair down to her shoulders. She wore no makeup but didn't need it, either. Mike had been confused the first time he met Zoey's mother (Janet, by the way) because she truly did bear a striking resemblance to her daughter. He almost asked the woman if she'd put on makeup to look older, still thinking it was his teenage girlfriend, but wisely thought against it. Janet was a member of both a book club and a wine club, as well as a leading member of the PTA for Zoey's school. These were the people who Zoey had relied on the most before meeting the Total Drama campers. This would be interesting.
"Honey-bear!" Her dad (Frank, naturally) beamed. His daughter was the highlight of his life and seeing her again made his entire day better.
Zoey smiled meekly. "Hi daddy, hi mom! How are you guys?"
Janet cut in. Her smile faded from her face, signalling something more serious to come. "We're fine, pumpkin, but are you? We've watched every night that the show's been on and this year looks pretty bad."
Shaking her head, Zoey disagreed. "It's been safer than the other two years, at least."
"But this year things seem a little...different. Right, Frank?" Her husband nodded before allowing his wife to continue speaking. "It seems more...mentally draining this year."
Zoey looked around at the campers still in the area. James, Heather, and Izzy were god-knows-where. Dawn was comforting her boyfriend (she still couldn't believe that those two got together, but whatever), Harold was still caught off guard by the first parental interview, Courtney was standing with her arms crossed defiantly, and Brick stood at ease. All had been shaped by Total Drama's history of physical cruelty, but her mother had a point, one that the kids had acknowledged after Noah's VR challenge. Even Gwen, someone who had faced down the worst that Total Drama had to offer, had voluntarily removed herself from the season. Instead of making the challenges dangerous for all, Chris had spent this summer making the challenges particularly hard for one. He'd been playing with their biggest insecurities and worries. Damage done to the other campers was just a nice side-benefit.
Something clicked for Zoey. Chris was trying to force the results of the challenges into a specific order. You were meant to be eliminated on your challenge day. It had worked for Geoff, Noah, and Alejandro. Brick got saved by Dakota blowing up Chris's island and Zoey herself had been saved by Chris not being able to find much dirt on her. Izzy was the only one who really bucked the trend, but she was an interesting case. The way the challenge today was shaping up was for Lightning to be eliminated. Zoey still didn't really like the uber-jock, but he didn't deserve to lose like this. He'd been forced to hear his dad's venomous thoughts about him, clearly his deepest insecurity. It was not likely that his team would win. But even if the Muskrats did win, who deserved to be eliminated from the Wombats? James? She still believed that he would be better off getting off the island ASAP and getting some emergency therapy, but bringing this up with the team did not go so well the last time. This was an awful position for the highly empathetic Zoey to be in.
Snapping out of her deliberations, she answered her mom's question. "Mom, you don't have to worry, really! This season's been fine. I've handled worse, honestly. Just gotta keep my head down."
"Ya sure, honey-bear? You'd tell us if it wasn't?"
"Of course, dad. You guys can hang up now. I gotta win you that money for your new man-cave somehow."
Hearing his daughter say that made the man beam. He knew that she was strong, stronger than most people gave her credit for, but it still worried him to see the predicament she was in. His fatherly instincts told him that she was not the kind of person to lie about things like this, so she would tell him when she felt overwhelmed. He reluctantly ended the zoom call, already missing his daughter more than she could know.
Chris face-palmed. The challenge opened with a bang but was looking like it'd close with a whimper. "The Wombats tie the score at 3 all. Our last camper to go, with the chance to win the challenge for her team, is Dawn! Dawn, your parents are probably hippies or something, right? Are we sure they even have a computer to use?"
Looking down at her still-heartbroken boyfriend lying on her lap, Dawn's mind was as far as it could be from the challenge. Ignoring the slight aimed at her parents, she wriggled Lightning onto the ground with a quiet "sorry" and stood up slowly. Shaking her muscles awake, she strolled over to the screen. She would not let Chris goad her into saying something she didn't want to say.
Izzy wandered back into the clearing after walking back from the cabins. She registered that Dawn was the next camper up to the screen. While she didn't really care much, it would still be interesting to see what her home life looked like. She kept walking and rejoined the huddle of teens. Still no sign of Heather.
Dawn waited for the screen to show her parents, which it did after a minute. Immediately, bright yellow light filled the display. Squinting, Harold struggled to make out two forms. He saw that both were wearing flowing white robes to complement their flowing hair. The man had curly blond hair while the woman had silken brown hair. Both wore the same dire facial expression and looked to be both eternally old and perpetually young. Could they be…?
Confessional
Harold: Are her parents...Zeus and Hera? [suddenly excited] That's AWESOME! No wonder that Dawn has powers. Knowledge of Greek mythology is only one of my many mad skills.
Izzy (filing her nails, bored): Meh. Saw that one coming. Izzy's had to kill worse. [remembers she's on TV] I mean, wow, what a surprise.
End of Confessional
Potentially-Zeus and Hera turned their gaze towards their daughter. While the faces remained as stoic as ever, Dawn could glean the tiniest bit of happiness radiating from their eyes, and naturally, their auras. The man opened his mouth, and his thunderous voice caught the campers off-guard.
"Daughter, how goes your summer camp? Is it to your satisfaction?"
Dawn licked her lips slightly before answering. "Daddy, I'm doing reasonably well. It's the others who are suffering. A heavy cloud, which you can no doubt feel, hangs over the island and is harming everyone in some way. I worry for the souls of the others here."
"What do you sense?" Possibly-Hera spoke with more emotion in her voice than potentially-Zeus did, due to her famous compassionate side. She was not above the conflict enough to not feel for her daughter.
Dawn closed her eyes, straining. Contacting the spirits and deciphering their messages took more effort than anyone could understand. "The...conflict only ends...badly. I see even more strife, but the spirits refuse to tell me more. Please, daddy, help me! I need to help my friends!"
Potentially-Zeus was torn. He had sworn to not involve himself in the affairs of any humans after Hera caught him cheating on her with a human woman many years ago. But, it's a well-known fact that fathers can rarely resist their daughters' pleas for help, especially when puppy-dog eyes are thrown in. He looked up from the screen and...dammit, she was giving him those puppy-dog eyes. He sighed a mighty sigh, causing a few trees to fall on Boney Island from the sheer force of the bass the sound system had to produce. One of the trees almost hit a meditating James, making him jump back.
Confessional
Brick (confused): So… there's no way Dawn's father isn't Zeus, correct? That commanding tone puts even my drill sergeant to shame. Not to imply that Staff Sergeant McAdams wasn't tough, but Zeus makes him look weak…[suddenly panics] I mean fragile-uh, pathetic. Wait, I mean…
End of confessional
"You know better than anyone that I can not do so, Daughter. I can say, however, that I approve of this Lightning. He seems like a worthy athlete."
"Dude, can you just tell your kid you hate her or something? This is so BORING!" Chris cut in, clearly frustrated. He prayed at the altar of the almighty ratings, not these pale imitations of fake gods, and this latter half of the episode was going poorly. The editing was going to have to be top-tier to keep people interested.
Instead, Chris drew the ire of one of the people you want to piss off the least. To paraphrase Gritty, Chris fucked around; now, he was going to find out.
Both Zeus and Hera turned their attention to Chris. Eyes blazing, Hera leaned forward, appearing as if to reach through the screen. Chris saw a hand coming towards him, which didn't make sense. They were somewhere else entirely. What kind of witchcraft allows you to reach through a screen like that? The hand made its way slowly, ever so slowly, towards his throat.
Chris stood rooted in place, helpless to move even if he wanted to. The hand gripped his windpipe, and with only the slightest visible effort, began to crush Chris's throat. He began to convulse as his body desperately sought out even the slightest hint of oxygen. He then registered some black flashing spots at the corner of his eyes before, miraculously, the pain stopped. Dropping to the ground in agony, he took hitching breaths before glancing up to meet his savior.
Dawn.
She was standing, with her eyes glowing and hair blowing behind her despite the absence of any wind. A lesser man without as much capacity for logical reasoning would have thought that she was levitating slightly, but Chris knew better. He knew this little shit-head had planned this somehow with her parents. His relief at being alive turned as quickly as he could manage it to rage.
Sputtering slightly, he motioned for the interns to end the Zoom call, which they did very cautiously. Brushing dirt off his knees, he stalled for a second until he knew that his voice could still carry the same strength it was known for.
"Dawn did not in fact cry, and her team won a point, leaving the Wombats the winner of today's challenge!" He took a beat for dramatic effect before dropping the other shoe.
"However, her parents assaulted the host, and as I clearly laid out after James, anyone who does that is immediately disqualified. So, in addition to whoever is axed from the Muskrats, Dawn will be heading home tonight! Ha-ha, this is great! Two for the price of one!"
The assembled campers' jaws dropped before they collectively dashed for the bathroom confessional camera.
Confessional
Harold: This changes so much! Gosh, if I had the powers of a god, I'd [cut for time]
Courtney: What the fuck was THAT?! We lost, but (sudden realization) they also lost a player! And a player with godly powers, apparently, because why not. This should mean that the merge is tonight. (Nodding) Everything is shaping up.
Zoey: I'm going to choose to ignore the magical things Dawn just did. She just saved Chris's life and got booted off? Why? That doesn't seem fair at all...wait. I'm on Total Drama. Nevermind.
Brick: Dawn didn't need to step in there. Considering everything that Chris has put her through, she very easily could have let… Hera kill him. Instead, she ended up sacrificing her chance at five million dollars to keep a life intact. I'm proud to call her a friend and I think Lightning did extremely well.
Izzy: What she did takes balls. I once had to stand up to my parents like that when my dad tried to tell the director that he was wrong. Silly guy almost hit him with a stage light! Now that I think about it, my dark sense of humor comes from my dad. Take what you will from that.
End of Confessional
Chris kept going with his comments even though no campers were in the immediate vicinity. "It's almost dinner time. Get clean, go eat, and then meet for the best elimination ceremony ever in a few hours!" Turning once more to the camera, he began the transition to commercials. "Who will the Muskrats eliminate? What will their teammates think? How did Dawn's parents do that? Stay tuned for only some of these answers, on
Total
Drama
Send-Off!"
…
…
James walked up to the cliff face where he and Heather had their past conversations. He'd crept back to the camp, mostly to use the indoor plumbing, where he met a startled Zoey. Zoey said that she hadn't been to dinner and that nobody else had seen her, so he puzzled a little before remembering their private little place.
"I figured you'd be here."
She didn't stir. He could see that she was hunched over, holding her head in her hands. It hurt to look at. She had built her entire fake personality around being strong, so for her to express any weakness like this drove a stake through James's heart. He sat down next to her and pulled her close. She squirmed a little bit before going limp in his arms.
"Izzy told me about what your parents said. I'm so sorry. Nobody should ever say that. No parent should ever even think that about their daughter. I'm-I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm even more sorry that I made you feel worse."
He meant to keep going but she let a little barking laugh out. Nothing about the laugh conveyed good cheer.
"What the hell do you have to be sorry about?"
James turned her face to look at him. The moonlight illuminated the thin trails of tears that had been snaking their way down her face. He needed her to make eye contact with him.
"Heather, I'm so sorry about earlier. I, uh, wasn't exactly in the right mindset earlier. I went wayyyy too far and I said stuff I should never have thought, let alone said. I know you probably don't want to hear me talk to you anymore, but there is something else I need to get off my chest."
He closed his eyes. This was not how he imagined this conversation going. For one, he wasn't sure that his swollen left eye could open up again.
"I've had...feelings for you for a while. Since the first night, actually. Just being near you made me feel legitimately happy for the first time in a long time. I haven't been able to get you off my mind and I-"
He looked at her and noticed that she was frowning slightly. "What's wrong?"
"You heard your dad earlier. As much as my family hates me, they're not gonna kick me out, yet. There are cameras all around here. You're throwing your family away for me and I don't deserve it."
"Heather, look at me. No, actually look at me. I want you to check me out."
Her eyes moved up and down his body. His normally handsome face was covered in dried blood and was swollen, a black eye forming over his left. His lip was split. He gently took off his shirt, exposing a heavily scarred chest, and twisted slightly. Scar tissue ran in diagonals all over and got even worse on his back. She gasped slightly at seeing the damage. Whole sections of his back were covered in raised lines, in a pattern like the roots of a tree.
"This is what my dad did to me. You know how bad this is? I can barely remember which of these were caused by the f-fan and which are just from my dad beating on me." He was looking down at the scars over his abs.
"Heather, I fucking hate my parents. My dad's just a little abusive and my mom's an enabler. I'll talk to you as much as I want because I actually like being around you."
He hugged her tighter. "And don't give me that shit about you not deserving something. You deserve the best of everything. You deserve to be treated like the princess you are. Heather, I think I love yo-"
He was cut off again. This time, Heather had leaned forward and planted a firm kiss. She drew away after a few seconds, leaving James speechless.
"You were an asshole earlier but you were right. You said I needed to express my emotions in a healthier way; well, here it is."
James recovered the ability to speak, if only for a few seconds. He found enough motor control to just barely draw out, "Are you sure you want this?"
She cocked her head to the side while knitting her brows together. "What do you mean?"
It was his time to pull away. There was so much that he wanted to say but no good way to say any of it. Everything that he could think of sounded stupid, or overly edgy, or just plain wrong. He chuckled darkly to clear his head. Nothing he could think of sounded right, so he just repeated his question. "Are you sure you want this?"
Heather considered for a second. He'd treated her with respect, with compassion, with love even despite not knowing her as well as anyone else on the show. He told her multiple times that he was happy with her, and she felt the same way with him.
The moonlight again shone on her, making her look like an angel to the still somewhat loopy James. He saw his angel nod her head, releasing a fresh wave of dopamine.
They leaned back in, James more hesitantly.
Let's give them some privacy, huh?
…
…
Lightning slumped in his seat. No matter how the night ended, he'd be missing the person he cared about the most in the world in the morning. He still had the boys, James and Brick, but James was in a world of his own right now and he wouldn't expect Brick to make up for his girlfriend. Lightning glanced over to see the rest of the Malicious Muskrats sitting with him at the elimination ceremony. In a normal year, this wouldn't even be a contest. All three would have been gone much earlier on. Instead, this year was more mind games than sport games, something which was not in Lightning's favor.
The Woeful Wombats watched from a respectful distance. Zoey had noticed that James and Heather had come down to the ceremony together, and both looked slightly bashful, as if they were hiding something. She put two and two together easily. As long as they were both happy, she guessed she was okay with it. Gwen had trusted Heather at the end, so she felt like she had to as well.
Chris drew strength from seeing the kids as miserable as they were. The one who wasn't as miserable as he should have been, his lousy godson, was sitting with the biggest ratings draw from season 1. They'd be an interesting couple, and if they weren't, things could be arranged.
"The Muskrats have to say goodbye to yet another player tonight! Already down a man, they didn't exactly come through in the clutch, to use a sports metaphor. You know how the medal process works at this point. The following campers received no votes. Harold. And Izzy.
Lightning, you blew the challenge for your team by being literally the only person to cry. Courtney, your behavior towards your parents was shocking-and made for great TV! I can't believe you got votes for that.
The camper who has to leave us tonight is
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Lightning! Go and join your girlfriend for the Flush of Shame!"
The uber-jock caught the medal effortlessly before walking over meekly to the dock. Dawn was already perched in the water, and after seeing her boyfriend walk slowly over, perked up before realizing that he'd just lost his chance at both five million dollars and redemption in the mind of his father. He was not going to be in a good place, but at least she was there to help him through it.
Lightning had said his goodbyes on the walk over, and after receiving encouragement from both Brick and James, stepped into the toilet to await his flush. Gripping the hand of his love, they braced for a world unknown.
Chris broke his attention from them to look back towards the campers still remaining. "For everyone here, congratulations! You've made it to the merge! There are no more teams, just pure, unadulterated competition and anger! However, for tonight, the team formerly known as Wombats will be sleeping in the spa hotel-except for James. You sleep outside tonight for punching me, and I've heard it's supposed to pour rain tonight. Have fun." Giggling to himself, he motioned for Chef before the two left together.
The teens looked at each other. For some, this was an entirely new experience. For others, this was old news.
Harold spoke up first. "So, what happens now?"
A/N: You'll have to tune in next time to find out! Don't expect this to be done quickly. I need to figure out my rhythm with class and all before I get back to churning these chapters out. I'm still incredibly grateful for all of your continued support.