Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.

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[=]

The meeting place is the backdoor of a tall skyscraper in the heart of The Island, where trucks dock and deliver their supplies. The dock faces a damp, narrow back street that cars rarely drive down. Rubbish bins are rusting and move with the activity of rats. It hasn't rained in a couple days, but there are puddles and an odd discolored liquid drips from somewhere above their heads. The air is slightly chilly and heavy. Sam leads the way, having received instructions of the spot from Eric from the transmition.

"This feels like a trap," Simon murmurs, walking behind him besides Jack.

"Did you see anything?" Jack asks.

"No. I never saw any future that involved me in a place like this." Simon glances at the frantic scurrying of a black rat alongside the damp brick of the building next to them. "I wonder what they want with me. To have kidnapped Eric to get to me…"

"Are you sure we shouldn't have contacted the authorities?" Jack asks, louder so Sam can hear them. "It doesn't seem right."

"If whoever kidnapped Eric could brainwash my parents into thinking their son was in a safer place, I don't think calling the cops would have any effect."

"It doesn't seem smart anymore," Simon muses, thinking of their plan. "When they hand Eric over, to attack them and run. They won't be kids; what if they have guns?"

"There's no other way," Sam declares. "I'm not going to let them keep my brother and we're not going to hand you over either. No one would believe us enough to help us, and anyway, Eric said he would meet us with only one other person, so I'm sure we can overpower him and escape if it's necessary." They come up to the back of a tall, pitch-black building – the windows are tinted dark and it towers over their heads, stretching into the blue sky. The shadow it casts into the alley bathes them in shade. "We're here," Sam announces, although the suggestion of second thought has crept into his voice.

The docking station, a dark cave stretching into the base of the building with a sloping floor, appears to be uninhabited at first, but a faint movement near one of the doors reveals a dark shape. It is the lanky body of a mysterious individual, but behind him, is…

"Eric!" Sam shouts, taking a step forward. He tries to bombard his twin's mind with numerous questions that he doesn't want to voice aloud, but he finds the annoying interference again. Something about the building makes it hard for him to convey anything. Eric stares at him, terrified. The boy in front of him jumps onto the platform, holding his hand out to Eric.

"Come closer," the dark boy orders, and Sam hesitates, turning behind him to Jack and Simon. Simon nods and they advance slowly. They are unaware of the security camera watching their movements in a darker corner of the station, trained upon the five youths. Roger perks his ears but the bud in his ear does not bark orders; all is going according to the Lord's plans. He pulls Eric along, feeling the boy squirm behind him.

[=]

"At last," the Lord whispers, hardly hiding his pleasure. The screen before him is showing all he has hoped for these past few months; he is about to get his hands on Simon Green, and have him to be disposed of. After that is done, no one will stand in his way of destroying The Island and to find someone who can reverse the effect of his powers. The young man next to him stares deeply at the screen; his own fortune teller, Maurice. It has been a while since the boy went through live grinning idiotically with no purpose in life. The Lord has justified his existence.

"Wait," Maurice says, looking a little confused.

The Lord of the Flies turns to him in anger. "What?" he asks in a tense voice. When Maurice does not reply immediately, he hits him across the head, sending him sprawling to the ground with a cry of surprise. "What did you see?"

Trembling, Maurice pulls himself up again to the desk and studies the screen. It was only a flash, but enough…the two teams seem to be discussing something. The Lord looks about to strike him again, so he hurriedly speaks. "We need to stop this meeting."

"What?" The Lord sounds even more incensed. "Why on earth would we do that?"

The flash was fast; the split shot of the boy named Ralph standing in front of Simon. "If this continues, they'll meet Ralph Castilian and Pygmalion Stout." As the Lord stares at him, he tries to explain. "The meeting right now will lead to Simon and the others meeting Ralph."

"That is impossible!" the Lord thunders, but his mind races. Perhaps, by chance, the boy will wander onto the street? "We must capture Simon Green at all costs right now." He presses the button alerting his few snipers. They will take out Simon before they can make contact with Ralph. He must ensure this; he can feel victory in his hands, and he cannot let it slip out at such an easy opportunity.

[=]

Capture the boy, the Lord orders in Roger's ear, and he stops the pleasantries being exchanged. "We must have the trade now," he says, and Sam cuts off all the questions he has been asking without answers. Eric cringes, and glances around, his eyes landing on the flashing lights on the door. He isn't sure what they mean, but he has overheard the plan discussed by the Lord.

"What's the rush?" Jack asks, and Eric knows he is buying time. "You didn't answer our questions. Why do you need Simon?"

"The deal did not involve a question and answer session," Roger says coolly. He recognizes the redhead and Simon from the files. He has introduced himself with a curt statement of his name. He does not feel the need to use his power – the Lord told him not to unless absolutely necessary in order not to cause panic to make them scatter – but if they will not obey, he will have to unleash himself. And with the urgency the Lord has ordered him, and the lights, he is sending backup. He can take care of this himself, Roger thinks angrily to himself. He does not need help.

"It's okay," Simon murmurs, walking forward. Sam turns to him, uncertainty in his eyes. "I'll come." He walks calmly past Sam toward Roger, and just as Roger starts to push Eric forward, the doors open to reveal several people decked in pure black, with silencers attached to their guns.

"Run!" Eric screams, ignoring all constraint. "They mean to kill you, Simon! Run away!"

Shoot to kill, all of them! the Lord screams into all the earbuds, and as the men aim their guns, Simon's eyes widen and he turns. "It's okay, leave me!" Eric yells, as Sam shoots him a panicked look. "Just go!"

"Be quiet!" Roger hisses, and Eric cries out as he feels his head flare again. Jack and Simon are already at street level and running as Sam starts to feel his legs carry him away as the bullets whiz past his head. He turns back for a second to see Eric at Roger's feet.

"I'll be back to get you, Eric!" Sam calls, before ducking from a shot and running off. When he gets to the street, he sees the men in black following them and sees Jack and Simon off near another side street. They must split up, Jack had said before, if anything happened. He runs in the opposite direction, briefly seeing out of the corner of his eyes black members coming out the side doors of the black building. Once he gets out to the public street, they cannot kill him without drawing attention to themselves. He can disappear into the crowds.

"I knew it!" Jack grumbles, to himself. It was too suspicious to meet in a back alley. They were just being set to be shot to their deaths. Whatever he is getting wrapped up in, there is no turning back. Sam specified that he was also to be included in the 'company he kept'. Whatever it was, he was involved, whether he liked it or not. I should have never gone to that damn party.

"Jack!" Simon yells behind him, and he turns. Just as he does, he sees a man in black come out of a door they have run past, a couple yards behind Simon, gun carefully aimed. Simon sees him just as he does, and he falters. There is no stopping this. Jack does not have the time to pull Simon out the way. The man squeezes the trigger.

Out of a perpendicular alleyway, a blur comes out of nowhere and stands in front of Simon, shielding him. The bullet hits him square in the chest. In shock, the man shoots again and again, the shots lodging themselves firmly into the shield's stomach.

"Jesus!" the blonde young man shouts, wincing. "It doesn't feel like a paintball gun at all!" The man in black growls and is about to shoot again when a flesh-colored tendril comes out of the alleyway the blonde ran out of and knocks the gun from the man's hand. As the man turns, two hands attached to long, stretchy arms grab both sides of his head and smash it against the door, knocking him out.

"Are you alright?" the body the long arms belong to asks. The arms retract back to a plump body and the fat boy totters over to the injured blonde. Simon runs over to him too, and Jack follows skeptically as well. "Where did he get you?"

"In the heart!" the blonde boy cheers, reaching into the bloodied stain in his shirt. There is a wet pop and the bullet comes back out, falling into his hand. There are two more pops and two more bloody bullets fall onto the ground. "Whew!" The blonde wipes his forehead, smearing red onto his face. "That was a close one! One second later and you could have been hit!" He turns to Simon and grins.

Simon's eyes widen. "You," he says, breathless. "I saw you in a dream."

"Did you? I'm flattered."

"How are you not hurt?" Jack asks, cutting in. He remembers the fat boy. The fat boy seems to remember him. They glare at each other for a moment. "He shot you where you should have died."

"I'm invincible," the blonde shrugs. "Cool, isn't it?"

"Come with us," Simon says, grabbing his hand. The boy looks down at their conjoined hands and turns to the fat boy. Jack feels a stab of dislike. Dream or no dream, what is it about this boy that makes Simon take to him so quickly? Simon has never been this…not-snarky to him before. In fact, as Simon passes him and his frown, he gives Jack a behave yourself look before pulling the blonde and his fat chum with him.

Jack shakes his head. What did he get himself into?

[=]

The blue of an electric shock glows in the Lord's office. The Lord keeps a couple of grunts to keep the specials in check. He has to use very special materials to handle Roger Doloris. A grunt keeps a taser in use so whenever Roger is looking rather murderously at the Lord, he uses it. Eric stands shaking at the door.

"I told you to make it a fast transaction," the Lord says in a low, even voice, the voice of wrath. "Make the exchange quick. But you did not do that. You prolonged it enough to make them suspicious. Now they've gotten away and you've ruined the fundamental point of my plans." Roger looks up and the grunt shocks him again. "Simon Green has met up with Ralph Castilian and I have told you again and again that that is a dangerous event. They will be able to withstand many of our physical attacks and you know as well as I do that you are the only one capable of attacking them from the inside. You cannot handle them all at once. I expected Green to be over with by the end of the day. You could not deliver me that." He nods at the grunt and the grunt tases Roger again, for punishment's sake.

The shocks come, one after another even after the Lord has turned away in disappointment. The grunt does not relent, even after Roger is writhing on the floor. "Stop it!" Eric shrills, rushing forward as the grunt looks to him in surprise. "You've done it enough already!" Now Eric does not care especially much for Roger, but such inhumane treatment is wrong.

"You did not even use your own powers even when they were right in front of you," the Lord sighs, and waves a hand. The grunt pauses, as Eric is clutching at Roger, but tases them both anyway. The Lord does not turn at Eric's squeal.

The current passes through them both, but Eric does not let go. Roger, through the blinking lights in his vision, feels irritation toward Eric's stubbornness. He would have doled out some pain to make the boy let go, but at this point, he can't even muster even an itch. Soundlessly, he shoves Eric off and gives him a cold look to stay away.

"I think that will be sufficient," the Lord says a moment later. "Take them back to their room."

Roger manages to walk back to the room but stumbles onto the bed the moment the door closes and locks behind them. Eric takes a shuddering breath – he can feel the unpleasant crackles that passed his skin – and makes his way carefully to Roger. "Are you alright?" Eric ventures, slowly, as if dealing with an unpredictable animal, which in a way, he is. Roger's back is toward him so he cannot read any expression. Eric purses his lips. Roger wants to be alone; understandable – he would want to be let alone too after something like that.

"You shouldn't have done that," Roger says lowly when Eric sits down on the ground next to the bed. There are a lot of things that could be applicable, but Eric knows he means coming up to him when he was dealing with the grunt. Roger is conflicted – puzzled with why Eric would do something as mindless as that. The Lord would not have killed him, he has his purpose; yet Eric tried to stop it. He does not know why. He has done nothing that Eric owes him any favors.

"It's wrong," Eric mumbles, hugging his knees. Today was a long, exhausting day. "Corporal punishment is wrong."

"You were going to get hurt."

"So?" Eric whispers. "Nothing I can't handle." His bravado is still there; Sam is fine, and he helped save someone's life whom he doesn't know. That Simon boy – he didn't seem like he was going to kill anyone. He knows he shouldn't judge by appearances, but that Lord of the Flies is a bad guy; Eric knows this, he knows this from very deep down. He was kidnapped by a crazy guy with a pig's head. The crazy guy wants to kill people. He wants to go home. Eric is not a crier, but he feels his eyes getting wet and he buries his head into his arms before anyone can see.

[=]

"Why are you so prickly?"

Jack turns. He thought his withdrawal outside had gone unnoticed; he had snuck out when Ralph was making his loud introduction. He hadn't caught the fat boy's name, but he thinks the nickname Piggy will be sufficient. Ralph walks up to him, standing in the middle of the backyard of Simon's house, and cocks his head challengingly.

"Nothing's wrong," Jack sniffs, turning his attention back to the reddening leaves above his head. The crisp post summer air is giving way to autumn before he can notice. Ralph studies him wordlessly.

"Is there something between you and Simon?" Ralph asks. "You two were running around together when I found you guys…"

"What were you two doing lurking around that area anyway?"

"Oh, you know. Finding cool things. I was trying to find some short cuts around The Island…I haven't explored it all yet. Someday, I hope to make a map for all the youngsters out there, with every route planned and stuff." Ralph nods, looking like a little kid instead of the high school senior he is. "Stop trying to distract me. Whenever you two look at each other, there's some sort of hate going on. But I don't think you two hate each other."

"Think whatever you want," Jack says. Ralph scrutinizes him some more.

"I don't know what it is," Ralph says slowly. "But it's something more. Because Simon was watching you as you left and you got pissy when I showed up and ruined your two-man show. Is that right?"

"I don't know what you're on about."

Ralph's face is blank. Then a sudden dark smile crosses his face that unhinges Jack. "If that's the case, then I guess it's safe to say it then; I won't need to ask your permission to court Simon." He watches as Jack sputters and turns red.

"My permission?"

"Oh yes. He's a cute little thing, isn't he?" Ralph turns slightly back to the house. "And you just don't take him seriously even though he can see the future. He's better off with someone who can appreciate him for who he is, wouldn't you think?" He gives Jack a pointed look. "If we're going to save The Island, he's going to need to lean on someone more solid than certain people we know. And I think he's taking a liking to me already." With that, Ralph turns on his heel and marches back to the house.

Jack scowls at him. Ralph doesn't walk like a poof, nor does he have an obnoxious loud voice. It's obnoxious, but not like that. He doesn't know what Ralph was trying to insinuate, but he doesn't care. Simon can date whomever he wanted to date. And dating should be the last thing on his mind if people were trying to kill them. All of them were just silly-headed children. Someone was going to have to take charge here.

To be continued

[=]

Note: Fast update to make up for the lack of updates during my winter holiday. And I hope not to make so much stupid lovey romantic nonsense crowd up the rest of the story. I want it to be like the Max Ride series where you gotta work hard to get to the romance. But I like writing slash. So hum. Thanks for reading.