A/N: Hi! I would just like to say thanks to everyone for the review! I will try to add your characters in the story if you want later. Anyway, enjoy yourself and leave all evilness at the door, brownies?
Foamy for president y'all
Sazzy xxx
p.s. the chapters are not necessarily written in time order.
Disclaimer: Dude, I do not own Recess. But I bet the Ashleys do! Everyone knows they can afford it…
WARNING: This chapter is a little darker than the others and if you still like the innocent side to Gus then don't read! I would rate this chapter a little higher than the others.
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Gus lay on the floor; emotions circling his head like a thousand moths and butterflies. In a moment of despair he beat his fists onto the cold, hardwood floor. Tears streamed down his face as he gathered his thoughts together; remembering the danger that he had just landed his best friend in. He propped himself up against the wall, his head pounding with pain. He urged for common sense to somehow make its way to him, for he had no idea what to do.
Suddenly, it came to him. The idea struck him so hard he almost fell onto a pile of dirty laundry.
He had to save her!
He had got her into this mess; he will have to get her out. He didn't care about his duty to the army anymore; he realized that his true duty was to his best friend. He looked down at his frail body that was clasping the bedclothes with sweat. How on earth was he meant to take on angry army guys? He could barely make it in battle-tag, which was why he always got picked last even if it was TJ or Vince picking the team. No, he couldn't use force in that way.
Gus stood up, shaking from the images that flooded his head. Gretchen being tortured, Gretchen being killed, Gretchen being…
He clenched his eyes shut, willing for the images to leave him alone so he could figure out a plan. Soon enough, they obeyed him and left him for the meanwhile.
Gus staggered to his room, the past few minutes haunting him and wrapping themselves around his thoughts. He suddenly began to realise how much trouble he would be in with his dad if he was caught betraying his army vow; he would probably be in as much trouble as Gretchen was. His determination began to rise as his thoughts got louder and he soon swung open the door to his room and surveyed his surroundings.
Everything was exactly the same. Gus didn't even know what he was expecting. Maybe he thought that the room would be somehow different, like it is in dreams sometimes. Then he would wake up and realise that it WAS all a dream.
Sadly, that wasn't the case. The only thing that had changed was his pet snake Herbert, who had moved a few centremetres towards the front of the cage. Gus swallowed the despair that had risen in his throat and made his way across his floor to his desk. The chair moaned as he sat down, his body shaking from fright. He reached out to a little drawer in the bottom left-hand corner, concealed with a few senior fusion comics. He felt the felt lining slide over his fingers and glided around to try and find the key. His eyes widened as he felt nothing, and he felt a twinge of what can only be described as, 'shit…'
He frantically pulled out the drawer, finding to his horror that there was nothing there. He rummaged inside the rest of his desk, throwing anything that didn't resemble a key over his head. Just as he was about to collapse into yet more despair, there it was, a shiny gold-antique key, lying innocently at the back of the desk. Gus sighed a breath of relief and grabbed it quickly before he lost it again. He felt the silkiness of the metal sooth his fingers and saw the gold glittering in the early-morning sun. He leapt up from his chair and ran across his room to his bed. He knelt down on the floor and pulled out, from underneath his bed, a chest.
It was an army chest, similar to one which they kept sheets or weapons in the war. Gus' father had brought it back for him so he could store all of his 'childhood nonsense'. His father didn't like comics or toys, he always expected a more mature and older son. Gus remembered the day he got the chest as though it was yesterday…
A/N: Flashback, two years ago.
Gus bounced on his bed, the chest weighing his mattress down so the springs were not as bouncy as usual. He pushed it onto the floor while making a huge crash in the process. He couldn't help but feel a hatred for it, it was the thing which was ending his childhood and all of the youth that he would ever have.
He slid off his bed and walked over to his desk, staring at the chest in disgust as he walked. He gathered up all of his comics, naturally in alphabetical order, and threw them in. He did the same with all of his soft toys, throwing them with great force. Gus soon began to throw things in with a frenzy, his arms flying around wildly as he grabbed anything and everything. He started crying at the same time, his eyes leaking acidic tears which seemed to burn his cheeks. He collapsed onto the floor next to the chest, rolling onto his front so his cries would not be heard by his parents who would most certainly punish him for showing emotion. He crouched his tiny body against the wall of the chest, glancing behind him what lay in it. He turned himself around and looked at his childhood smiling back at him in a sea of bright colours and shapes. He stroked his finger along the edge of his comic book, feeling its delicate pages with hours of entertainment crammed inside.
Wait a second…
Gus stopped and peered at what his finger was now resting on.
A knife!
He picked it up and held it in front of his face, watching the light dance on the blade. He reached out his finger and slid it along the edge and marvelled as he saw the blood oozing out of the fresh wound. He held the finger up in front of his face as well and watched the blood trickle down his hand. Gus thought it was an amazing colour, the best colour he had ever seen. He eyes drifted over to the knife where a stroke of crimson blood shone along the edge. He felt hypnotized by it. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Gus licked his finger clean of the blood and felt the taste linger on his tongue. He then licked the knife clean, cutting his touch severely in the process but he didn't care, he loved it.
He glanced back at the chest and made a snap decision. He threw all of the childhood things on his bed in a wild frenzy and then surveyed the newly empty box again. He grinned to himself and placed inside the knife, several dark clothes, a gun from his dad's room which he had stolen when he was 5, a mobile phone which he had brought from a street seller a few years ago and a note.
He spent a lot of time on the note, slowly contemplating what it should say. He soon came up with this:
To Older Gus,
I knew that you would need this someday! Don't ask me why I knew, it was practically a feeling; a strong pounding voice in my head telling me that when I am older I may need the knife. I hope that I am still the same person when I am older and perhaps that dad was less scary! Do whatever you need to do with this chest and the content.
Look for the blood on the knife if it is still there.
Gus
He smiled to himself as he read the note 3 times before eventually placing it in the chest on top of everything else. He reached inside his pocket and lifted out a shiny golden key. He caught his breath in his throat as he slammed the chest shut. Feeling the key resting in his hand, he stretched his arm out towards the keyhole and slowly turned it inside.
He stood up and looked at the chest with admiration, feeling the rare sense of doing something right, he pushed it under his bed along with all of his childhood things, waiting for the time in the future when he would need it again.
A/N: End of flashback….
Gus stroked the edges of the chest, remembering all that happened two years ago. He couldn't help but wonder if he knew how and why he would use the contents of the chest when he was 8. He felt the key in his hand, longing for contact with the lock. As his eyes rested on the keyhole, he decided that this was most definitely the right time to use it. As he felt the cogs harmoniously turn with the key he smiled, for he had finally found himself in an area of security. He lifted up the lid carefully and grinned when he saw that everything was lying there…perfectly.
He reached into the chest and pulled out his black clothes. The fabric tumbled out of his hands and rested on the floor, waiting for him to discover the next item. He plunged his hands into the sides of the chest, finding yet again the phone, gun and the…
Knife…
Gus' eyes softened, remembering the soothing qualities of the blade against his skin. He pulled it out of the chest and watched the blade shimmer and glisten. It was like being re-united with something that he had longed for forever.
Gus stroked the blade yet again and watched his reflection. He remembered how beautiful he thought it was, the perfect lines which seem so innocent when looked upon for the first time.
He was just about to look away when he caught sight of something in the reflection. A little piece of paper lay next to him.
The note!
Gus smiled to himself, recalling the care that he had taken into writing the letter. His eyes reluctantly came away from the knife and he reached over to retrieve the note.
Gus read it briefly but paused at one particular line…
…Look for the blood on the knife if it is still there…
Gus picked up the knife and scanned the blade. Sure enough, there it was. Gus' 8 year-old blood dried up against the edge. He grinned and slid his finger along the lines of the knife, then placed it in the pocket of his black-clothes, along with the phone and the note. He slid off his moist bedclothes and dressed himself carefully in the black ones. Millions of thoughts ran through his mind. He didn't know what he was going to do or even how, all he knew is that he had to do something. It was like a feeling which he didn't dare question.
Gus stood up and made him way to the front door, savouring every corner of his house incase he never returned. As he felt emotion welling up inside him, he forced it down firmly knowing that he could not turn away and leave Gretchen.
He turned back to take one last look at his 12th home and remembered the first thing that his dad told him when he turned 10.
'Gustav, you are now a man. All of the Griswold men have never shown weakness and we never back out of something which we started,' he had said.
With his father's voice pounding inside his head, he pushed open his door and ran down the road towards 3rd Street School, knowing that he may not make it back alive.
A/N: R&R! I might not be updating for a while but I will try may best!
