Author's Note:

This is part two of chapter fourteen. I know this was meant to be only a two-parter, but apparently I've really outdone myself with this one. There's so much ground to cover and I put so much time in researching this whole topic that it didn't feel right to rush and pack it all in this chapter. Which is why this is going to be continued in a third part. Like I said, I've really outdone myself.

On a side note, I've had some inquiries from you lovely readers regarding the Neric aspect to this. While this is definitely not a Neric-story I am not adversed to it. There are some Eric and Nell scenes coming up in the next chapters, that will hopefully satisfy you and I have them planned and partially written very early into writing the story. I have come back to them and changed them every once in a while, but you know the saying: Good things come to those who wait. Right?

April 2000

"Come on," Eric mumbled to himself while holding the receiver to his ear. "Pick up already." He was getting frustrated and paced the kitchen floor in the small range the telephone cord allowed him to.

For the past twenty minutes he desperately had been trying to reach Katherine. He had tried her landline first even though he knew she most likely wasn't home at this time of day. Unsurprisingly she hadn't answered so he had switched to her work number, which she didn't answer either. In the end he didn't have much of a choice but to call the third number he had of Katherine. It was a number she had given him for emergencies only and she had assured him that she would always answer calls on that line. Eric had never before seen reason to dial the emergency number, but decided that if anything passed as an emergency it was the situation he found himself in now.

Once again the call was forwarded to the answering machine and Eric slammed the receiver down with a little more force than necessary. "Damn it," he cursed and ran his fingers through his blonde locks. He braced both of his arms on the kitchen table and let his chin fall to his chest. His whole body was trembling and he wasn't sure if it was desperation or anger. Probably a little of both, he mused. For once the teenager felt the urge to break something while at the same time he felt like crying, breaking down right there on the kitchen floor. But in his mind both options equaled defeat and he wasn't ready to give up. Not for his mothers or his sisters sake. They needed him and he needed to be strong for them.

Most of all, he needed a way out of this mess.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" It was the unmistakable soft and musical voice of Mrs. Beale that interrupted his thoughts. Already on edge Eric jumped at the sudden intrusion and almost lost his footing. He steadied himself with a hand on the kitchen table.

"Mom," he exclaimed shakily and cursed himself for his lack of attention. He usually sensed her presence soon enough to safely hide his emotions behind a poker face, but this time she had completely taken him off-guard.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She moved into stand beside him. "Is everything alright, Eric?" she asked with motherly concern.

"Yeah, mom. I'm fine. Don't worry," he brushed her off and twisted his mouth in a forced smile in hopes of deceiving her.

She looked at him with a pang of sadness in her eyes. "Why look at you, Eric. You're so grown up, taking care of your problems all on your own. I sometimes wonder if I lost track of time. When has my little boy matured so much?"

"I'm fourteen, mom, not an adult yet, but not a kid anymore either. I have to stand on my own feet sooner or later."

She smiled at him sadly. "I know, Eric. But I'm still your mother and you should always keep in mind that I'm here for you, if you need help," she reminded him. She put a hand on his forearm, squeezing it briefly.

"I know, mom," he answered in a lighthearted manner, but a lump was already forming in his throat. If only his mother realized that the times were long gone when she was the one supporting him and not the other way around. Occasionally she would have clear moments in which she could give him helpful advice but those were far and in between. Eric swallowed past the lump and shook his head. Now was not the time to get emotional.

"That's good to know." Her gaze lingered a little longer, then she turned away seemingly on a mission. She rummaged around the kitchen aimlessly, then halted at the refrigerator. "Mom, are you looking for something specific?"

"Yes, my boy. I came to…" She stopped mid-sentence and frowned, hand still gripping the handle of the fridge. "Actually, it slipped my mind. I'm sure I wanted something from the kitchen." She laughed nervously and Eric noticed it as a sign of embarrassment. She opened the refrigerator, looked inside but none of the items stocked in there seemed to be appealing to her and she closed it again. Her face twisted in a deep frown and she pursed her lips in anger.

The teenager knew this was his cue to step in and avert a crisis from transpiring. "Do you want something to drink?" He was certain that she wasn't hungry. They had just eaten half an hour ago, so thirst was the only logical explanation why she was seeking out the kitchen.

"Yes, but I can't find…" she muttered and left the sentence hanging there. She moved in a circle, a look of concentration and confusion on her face while tapping a finger against her chin.

"What do you want? Water? Juice? Coffee?" he asked, wanting to put her out of her misery of not knowing what exactly she was looking for.

"Water. I swear, there were some bottles around here, but I can't find them. I might have to head out and buy some," she muttered disgruntled as she moved around the kitchen and opened every cupboard in her reach.

"Water is right here," Eric offered, pointing at the space on the counter between the sink and the fridge. There were five bottles of water there in plain sight. He grabbed one, snatched a glass from the cupboard above, placed it on the counter directly in front of her and filled it three quarters.

Mrs. Beale's eyes lit up. "Oh, you are a lifesaver, Eric. I've been looking for the water. How did you know that I was thirsty?" She seemed genuinely surprised.

You just told me, he wanted to say, but he bit his tongue and resisted the urge to sigh. "Just a hunch," he shrugged it off instead and put on a smile for her.

"Thank you, my boy," she said with a pat on his shoulder affectionately and then left the kitchen again leaving him alone once again.

Eric hunched his shoulders. Conversations like the one he had been having just now were the reason why he knew that his mother wouldn't be able to hold her own during a meet-up with his teachers. But as far as he could tell it wouldn't be a problem anymore anyway, now that the school was informed about the issues in their home. Life had not been kind on the family these past years and today it had taken yet another turn for the worse, letting him know once more that they obviously weren't entitled to peace, quiet and happiness.

Grabbing the receiver from its cradle once more, he dialed Katherine's emergency number again. It rang, once, twice, five times until it went to the answering machine. He hung up, frustrated.

He was getting impatient and worried about Katherine at the same time. Time was of the essence and he needed a plan sooner rather than later or Social Services would be on their radar before he even got a chance to prepare his mother and sister for the inevitable. If Kathy wasn't available to help him he would need to do some research by himself. Mind set he took the keys from the kitchen table and left the house.

"Eric. A word please."

The teenager stopped in his tracks as he was packing his things into his bag. The rest of his Science class was already heading for their break, but he usually hung back in order to avoid any unwanted confrontations with the older students. He had expected Mr. Wellington to ask him to stay back after class. After his sudden departure from the principals' office the day before, an explanation on his end was in order. He would have to seek out his teacher and the principal sooner or later anyway. Packing the rest of his things he walked towards the teachers' desk and squared his shoulders.

"Mr. Wellington," he addressed the man and waited for the reprimand that he knew was coming, but none was forthcoming. Instead of reaming the youth out, the older man scrutinized him intently with an unreadable look. Eric detected some disappointment, but there was something else in that gaze as well. He just couldn't pinpoint it, but he suspected it must have been pity. Was his mentor actually feeling sorry for him?

Wellington shook his head and the expression was gone instantly. He brushed his beard before he started talking. "I wanted to talk to you about yesterday," he started, stating the obvious, but Eric interrupted him.

"I know what you are going to say, Mr. Wellington. And I'm going to apologize for my behavior yesterday, but I want to do it in front of the principal. She deserves an apology as well. Do you know, if she is in her office right now? I really need to talk to her about something and it's kind of urgent." He looked at the teacher with pleading eyes.

Mr. Wellington regarded the blond youngster for a moment, unsure what to make of this. There was a pressure behind the students' words and it rendered him momentarily speechless that the usually quiet and shy child could be so adamant. It was a side he rarely ever got to see in him. He answered the kid with a simple nod. "I know for a fact that she is free right now and is expecting to see us. Let me accompany you," he finally responded.

They walked to the office in strained silence and even when they entered the small room there was an awkward tension looming over them. Mrs. Martinez noticed that immediately upon their arrival but didn't comment on it.

"Mr. Beale," she greeted him with a faint hint of a smile gracing her lips. "I'm pleasantly surprised to see you here on your own account. Please sit." She gestured to the chair he had frequented the day before.

"Mrs. Martinez," Eric nodded his greeting as well and took the proffered seat. He remained on the very edge of it, not because he intended to bolt any minute, but because his nerves were too jittery to allow him to get comfortable. He didn't bother getting rid of his bag, either, rested it on his lap and fiddled with the strap instead. "I want to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I was in no position to leave your office without being dismissed and I regret doing it. I'm aware of the consequences and will gladly take them. I'm sorry."

His voice was surprisingly calm and he managed to make eye contact throughout his speech, but cast his eyes down as soon as he stopped speaking. Therefore he missed the brief look his teacher and the principal shared.

"Your apology is duly noted, Mr. Beale. However, we are the ones who should be apologizing to you. We put you in a very uncomfortable position yesterday without warning and neither of us knew what we were asking of you," Mrs. Martinez replied empathically.

"You only did your job," Eric argued in a quiet voice.

A brief smile flitted across the principals' face. "Yes we did. But I have chosen my words poorly. We should have approached the situation differently. Backing you in a corner was not the right way to go about this." Eric had nothing to say to this and remained silent. Mrs. Martinez smoothed the sleeves of her blouse and clasped her hands a little tighter than necessary while resting them on the tabletop. "Mr. Beale, I am truly shocked about what you revealed yesterday. I can't begin to fathom what you are going through at home. It certainly isn't easy."

Eric couldn't help flinching at her words and his fingers tightened around the strap of his school bag. He knew she meant well, but he didn't nor want her pity. "Please don't," he pleaded with her, voice thick with emotion.

"Alright," she relented to his relief. She understood his reasoning. This was a sour topic for him and there was a good reason he had kept this to himself for so long. The last thing the teenager needed right now was anyone prying into details. "I just want you to know that we are sorry that you have to go through that."

She watched him for a response and took his jerky nod as a cue to continue. "Unfortunately, you were right yesterday. It is our duty to inform Social Services of the matter and they will have to assess the situation. I have no way of knowing what decision they will be making regarding your living situation, but I doubt they will take you and your sister out of the home right away. They usually only do that when your safety isn't guaranteed any longer."

"I know," Eric cut in hastily. "But they will sooner or later and I can't let that happen." He took a deep breath. He had done a ton of research the previous evening and had found a possible solution to circumvent all the unpleasant affairs coming with Social Services. "This is why I wanted to talk to you about something that might prevent this."

Mr. Wellington, who had stayed in the background until now, stepped further into the room and took a seat on the edge of the principals' desk, his interest peaked. The well-being of his protégé was important to him and if the boy in question had found an alternative at handling this he wanted to know. "Please, go on, Eric."

Eric inhaled deeply and squared his shoulders before looking both Mrs. Martinez and Mr. Wellington straight in the eyes respectively. "I'm going to petition to become emancipated. I've been researching in the library yesterday and emancipation is allowed from the age of fourteen in California, which means I'm legally old enough to petition. I already got the papers from the Civil Division of the Superior Court yesterday. I'm going to file them as soon as I found myself a job. If the Court grants my request I will be able to make my own decisions, including acceleration."

The two adults were both stunned and they each took their time to digest the news. Mrs. Martinez was the first to recover. "This is a huge step for someone your age. Are you sure that you want to take on that kind of responsibility?"

Eric nodded and replied with certainty. "I am. And I have to."

Mr. Wellington frowned and chimed in, "I think your decision is a little rash. This is not a decision to make in a matter of seconds. You should take your time considering this, weighing all the options. I'm sure there are alternatives that you haven't taken into consideration."

Eric turned to his mentor. "With all due respect, Mr. Wellington, but I've been looking into every alternative there is and none of them would be in the best interest of my mother, my sister and me. I have thought about this and I have set my mind. I'm following through with this. At least I will try."

Mr. Wellington regarded him for a long time and upon realizing that his student had indeed already set his mind and was determined to do this he finally sighed and nodded once. "Sounds like you already made up your mind."

Eric gave the teacher a confident and serious look. "Yes, I have."

"Mr. Beale," Mrs. Martinez addressed him again, which had him avert his eyes from the teacher and focus on her once more. "I'm impressed with your determination. While I'm not entirely sure that this is a decision to be made lightly, I want you to know that we will do everything in our power to support you through this."

Eric nodded. "Thank you, mam." Having the principals' support meant a lot and put him at ease. Some of the trepidation and concern he had been having slowly leaving him, his muscles relaxing slightly.

She returned the nod. "Is there anything you need from us in terms of paperwork?"

"I need a confirmation that I'm enrolled in school here. A copy of the report card would be of advantage as well." He hesitated for a moment. "Also, if this isn't too much trouble, a written statement from either of you would be good, if you consider me ready for emancipation or not."

Mrs. Martinez smiled at him with encouragement. "It's not a bother, don't worry. I will get everything ready for you. I'm thinking Mr. Wellington might be willing to help with the statement. He knows you much better than I do." Mr. Wellington nodded in agreement.

"Thank you," Eric blurted out. "Both of you." He nodded at each of them, got up and headed for the door. Already halfway out the room, Mr. Wellington caught up with him.

"Eric, wait up for a minute," he called out and followed him out of the office, closing the door behind him. "I admire your strength, Eric. You have my utter respect for what you are about to do. I want you to know that."

The teenager nodded slowly, sensing a 'but' coming and therefore didn't interrupt the Science teacher.

"I do hope that you are aware of the huge responsibility that comes with emancipation. Not many are cut out to be independent at this age and I would hate to see you crack under the pressure. You are an intelligent and resilient young man, but still. This isn't an easy walk in the park. Are you ready to willingly give up the freedom of your youth for that?" Mr. Wellington sounded genuinely concerned, not like someone who wanted to change his mind and Eric was thankful for that.

"I appreciate your concern, Mr. Wellington. But I already have." He answered without a beat and there was a maturity to his words that stunned the teacher once more. "It's not that I want to give up the safety of childhood, but this is my family. And the whole concept of family is to have someone to support you when you need it, to stand up for each other. It's as simple as that or at least it should be. I don't have to consider taking care of them. I just do it, because taking care of them is my responsibility. It's the right thing to do from a moral point of view if nothing else."

He took a deep breath and waited for his teacher to answer. The older man obviously contemplated and his words and seemed to come to a conclusion that he was right. "Wise words from someone your age. On the other hand, I shouldn't have expected less from you, Eric." Wellington smiled at him knowingly. "I just don't want you to regret your decision when you hit a rough patch."

"I would regret not taking this step, if my sister and I would end up in foster care and my mother in a nursing home," he retorted without a beat. Wellington was stunned into silence once more. He could really only admire the strong-minded youth. "Am I free to go now or did you want something else, Mr. Wellington?" Eric interrupted the teacher's train of thoughts.

The teacher answered, barely able to conceal that he was a little flustered by the confidence of his student. "Actually, there is. You mentioned that you are still looking for a job. Do you have anything specific in mind, already?"

Eric raised his eyebrows in surprise, then shook his head sheepishly and the earlier confidence was wiped away, making room for the personality traits that Wellington was used to: an awkward bashfulness and openly displayed nervousness. "To be honest, I have no idea where to start. The best chance would probably be asking around at diners."

The Science tutor nodded. "Probably, but you most likely won't be earning enough money to financially support yourself."

Eric shrugged his shoulders and shuffled his feet. "Guess I'll have to look for two jobs then," he answered and bit his upper lip in embarrassment.

"Not necessarily," Wellington stated and Eric looked up in confusion. "I don't want to impose, but there is a job that might be interesting for you and is paying you a lot more than any diner would do."

Even more confused and feeling a little nervous about it Eric slowly asked, "What do you mean?" His right hand unintentionally tightened around the strap of his bag, knuckles turning white in the process, while he wiped his sweaty left hand on his pants pockets.

Mr. Wellington noticed his trepidation immediately and smiled at him soothingly. "Calm down, there's nothing illegal to it, if that's what you are thinking right now." He chuckled lightheartedly. "The California Institute of Technology has advertised a spot for one of their newest projects, which is about creating and setting up a homepage for the university. Usually they have their own grads and research assistants working on things like that, but once in a while they allow high-school students – mostly juniors and seniors – to participate in their projects. I know for a fact that you are technically-minded and that you know your way around a computer in ways that most aren't. I know you are still technically a freshman, but I have contacts with the project supervisor and could put a good word in for you, if you are interested."

Eric sighed with relief and loosened his grip on his bag, stretching his fingers which were aching slightly from the strain. "Uh, wow. I don't know what to say." He took another deep breath and gathered his thoughts, forehead crinkling while he digested the information. "This sound really interesting."

Wellington smiled at him. "I knew you would think so. I probably wouldn't have approached you with this, if you weren't looking for a job, but in addition to the financial aid this might be a wonderful stepping stone for your future, in case you decide to advance your studies in this direction. It certainly won't look bad in a resume if you do," the teacher elaborated. In an afterthought he added, "I don't want to pressure you into this, but you should give it some thought. Just let me know by the end of the week so I can make the calls."

Eric, still dumbstruck by the opportunity he was presented with almost missed his teachers last words and only shook himself back to reality when he noticed the movement of the man as he was about to retreat. "Wait, Mr. Wellington," he called without much thought. "I, um…" he started. "I don't need time to think about this. This sounds much more appealing than working a diner. I will gladly take this opportunity." He smiled at his teacher, eyes sparkling and Wellington realized he hadn't seen the teenager this happy in a while, if ever.

Returning the smile, the teacher nodded. "Alright then, I'll give the projects manager a call this afternoon and get back to you as soon as I know anything. You might want to prepare a written application anyway, just in case."

Eric nodded eagerly and resisted the urge to hug the man. "I will get on it. I don't know how to thank you."

"No need. I'm glad to help."

Thanks to those who once again reviewed. Your comments always make me happy. Keep 'em coming!

- S.