TW: This chapter contains graphic retelling of terrorism and mass shootings.
Author's Note: holy shit guys I'm SO sorry ;-; I legitimately thought I uploaded chapter 13+14 after I finished them. I've been working on 15 on and off and I guess I wanted to keep the older chapters to myself for continuity reasons. Anyways enjoy them now and YES I'M STILL GOING TO FINISH THIS FIC! I swear I will lololol PS for anyone wondering my life issues have gotten a little better since last I talked about it :] not great but, better. Thanks so much for everyone commenting that you love this fic it makes me so happy and want to keep going 3
"Can you see?" Roy called out, eyes squinting as the early afternoon sun reflected brightly off the thin layer of snow. He had just slammed the door to his new friend's car and took a few steps toward an old building. The car still had its driver's door open, with loud rock music blasting openly into the deserted parking lot. A crisp chill blew into his side, spraying icy particles onto his coat and face. He shivered, maybe I should have waited in the car.
Uneasiness seeped from him, he shouldn't be there and he knew it. Open land stretched all around him. In the distance he saw evidence of civilization but there in front of him stood a wide building with a flat top. The inside was dark, and the parking lot was barren with few spots of weeds pushing through the fading asphalt. He was far away from home in a completely foreign area, but he still trusted his friend's plan. "FD?" That was Roy's new shorthand for Fun Dead, since his full name was a bit of a mouthful.
That morning, Roy stated that he was going to bike to school instead of being driven. His fathers had given him a questioning look. It wasn't too odd, he had done so before, so they allowed him to go anyway. Little did they know however that Roy never made it to school that day, but instead biked over to his frequent meeting spot with Fun Dead. From there, the older boy told him he had something planned and invited him into his car for a ride. Roy excitedly hopped in, unafraid of where they were going. When the ride stretched over an hour long, Roy questioned what exactly this plan was. Fun Dead simply said, "it'll be fun, you'll see. It's just a little out of the way." And little out of the way it was. To Roy, the more accurate description was that it was in the middle of nowhere. When they arrived, Fun Dead had finally revealed where they were…sort of. He told him that the building was a retired Red Army weapons testing facility. Complete with a gun range and a place to test on dummies for hand-to-hand combat. It had been years out of use at that point, and the entire building was not much larger than a corner store. Fun Dead was sure that it was abandoned, but still warned Roy to stay clear of the place so he could inspect it first. Roy was unsure why this place was any use to them. It was cool, sure. It was marvelous even. But the Resistance needed currently used Red Army facilities, not empty ones!
When Fun Dead didn't respond, Roy took a few paces closer to the building. He noticed that one of the front windows was cracked, and there were papers pasted to the outside of the doors, though he was too far away to read. He called out again, "FD!" But still no sign of the stoic teenager. Creeping closer still, Roy kicked a pebble in front of him casually and it clinked against the metal door. It echoed on the other side. He strained to read the papers taped haphazardly to the front, but the paper was long sodden and the ink blotched the words. Trying to peer through the gaps in the glass, he could see only the light emitted from the windows of other doors. With that, it illuminated what seemed to be an open floor, some chairs, and he thought he could make out the pattern of a target on a far wall.
"Intruder alert!" A voice came from his right. Roy jumped in a panic and held his arms up in the air. He immediately settled when he saw Fun Dead approach him after turning the corner. "Bam bam, pow pow," he said with finger guns pointed at him, "that's what you would have heard before an enforcer shot you dead for walking up to a military training facility. I thought I told you to stay back?" His voice was flat yet teasing. Roy had gotten used to his use of tone. Even though he could often come off as rude, he was just being direct. Roy admired that no-nonsense attitude about him.
Roy nodded towards the car, which had since changed songs to an even more obnoxiously metal track. "We didn't exactly sneak up on it."
"Fair point," Fun Dead chuckled and walked towards his beat up silver car, "go ahead inside, there's no crackheads out back."
Are there usually crackheads out back? Shaking off the thought, Roy tried the door. Shocked to find it slid open easily, he opened it wide and pressed his back against it. He tipped his head curiously, "how'd you know it was unlocked?"
With a slam to the car door, Fun Dead could be heard much easier now without the music. "I've been here before."
"So why did you need to scope it out this time?"
"Because you never know." He slipped past Roy and a soft reverb followed his wise warning, "sometimes people like to be places they shouldn't." Roy wasn't sure, but he thought he spotted a wink on his face.
Allowing the door to shut behind them, Roy strained his eyes in the dark and urged them to adjust. The sound of their footsteps bounced off the walls and made him nervous. I have to remember we're alone, Roy assured himself. And yet despite his nerves, the tingling feeling of excitement danced in his stomach. This is so cool! The reality of the situation hit him, he was skipping school with the coolest person he knew. He felt sorry for his classmates back home, they had no idea that he was off doing something much more meaningful. I wonder what that something is…but he was confident that whatever Fun Dead brought him here to see was well worth it. And even if it wasn't, the experience of being there with him was just fine.
While Roy was scanning the room, Fun Dead had disappeared into a sectioned off room in the corner. One wall was made of glass and he deduced that this must have been part of the shooting range. He found the moving figure of Fun Dead on the other side and saw him opening a door. Curious, he waited. Within seconds the building had lit up with blaring LED lights in the ceiling. Roy's eyes sparkled, "you found the light switch!"
Fun Dead emerged from the far room, "there's a circuit breaker in this office."
"I wonder why it still has power…" Roy thought aloud.
Fun Dead rejoined his side and pulled a lollipop from his pocket. Pulling off the wrapper, he tossed it haphazardly on the floor. "Lots of unused buildings still have power, dummy." Now Roy could see the entirety of the inside. It was rather plain, with white paneled walls and diamond tiled flooring. In the corner opposite of the office was an area in which he assumed was the close-range combat station. There were plush gym mats scattered on the floor, their insides popped open and stolen by mice for their nests. "How far back does this range go, you think?" Fun Dead leaned into him and swirled the lollipop on his tongue.
Roy tried to gauge it. He looked up and down the range, pretending to line up cars or bikes in the space. Then, he spotted a faded outline on the wall. There must have been decals there at one point. He pointed at it, "fifty metres."
"Good eye," Fun Dead patted his shoulder before breaking away from him. "That'll do, wait here." For what? Roy wanted to ask, but instead watched him leave. The door clicked behind him and the sound echoed back.
Roy put his chilly hands in his coat pockets and explored. On the other side of the glass wall was a built-in shelf about arm level. Posted on the walls were messages of gun safety and rules of the range. Roy looked through the glass and tried to picture it in use. Here enforcers would put their weapons and ammo on the table to load. Ahead of him would be a line of men at the ready wearing ear protection, aiming at body outlines and targets. Behind him would be foldable chairs where they would talk to each other and be merry. To his left would be the loud grunting of someone using their full force against a training dummy, knocking it to the ground. He imagined what things they would talk about in a place like this. Army plans? Gossip? Everyday things? He had to suppress a shudder, first it's a target, then it's a person…
Fun Dead's return broke Roy from his thoughts. When he looked over at him, he noticed a black backpack around his shoulders. Roy quickly made his way over to him. When they were at the front of the range, Fun Dead pulled off the backpack and began to unzip it. "Do you want to see something cool?"
"Uh…yes?" Roy said, unsure. For a split second he thought about how easy it would be for him to die there and be left in such an isolated place. Then, Fun Dead grabbed something inside and pulled it out. Roy widened his eyes, shocked. "Where did you get that?!" He was holding a handgun. It was a black pistol, typical 9mm, and Roy recognized the model being described as a 'colt' in first person shooters. He had never seen anything like it in person, at least not unshielded by a holster on an enforcer's hip. It was then that Roy finally figured out the surprise; they weren't there to see the range, they were going to use it! "Can I see it?" Roy leaned his face close to it and reached his hand out without thinking.
Fun Dead swiped it away, "ah- no. This is mine." Roy frowned, not bothering to hide his disappointment. Then, his arm eased and put it back inside. "Hand," he said without looking up. Roy tipped his head. Figuring he meant he wanted to see his hand, he displayed his palm clearly. In that moment, Fun Dead revealed a second gun from the backpack- a revolver. Placing it in Roy's open hand, the weight caught him off guard. Quickly nurturing it in both hands, Roy sparked with excitement. "You'll be using that one today," he concluded.
"Wow!" Roy couldn't believe it. He was holding a real gun! But how? Where could he have gotten not just one- but two handguns? Was he really going to let him shoot it? This had to have been the best use of a skip day ever!
"I figured it was time to teach you to shoot, the sooner the better," Fun Dead smiled at him, clearly pleased that Roy was excited to participate.
Roy looked up at him, many different thoughts crowding him at once. What did he mean by that? Was first, but then, what do you mean 'what did he mean by that?' I think the answer to that is obvious. "It's a skill any good Resistance member should learn," he finished out loud.
Grabbing an old utility belt from the backpack, Fun Dead fastened it to his waist and fixed his pistol inside the gun sleeve. "Do you think Monabi knew how to shoot?"
Roy answered thoughtfully, "probably not, it's extremely unlikely she'd ever have access to something like this." Speaking of which…Fun Dead hasn't yet told him how he was able to do so.
"Then it looks like you have that on her," Fun Dead turned towards the range and began loading. I do, don't I? Roy resisted feeling superior over the former leader. Instead he felt pride over the fact that he was able to run in the tracks she laid out for him. It just meant that he was that much closer to achieving their shared dream.
Fun Dead raised both arms in front of him, gun firmly between both hands. "Now watch me," he shifted his weight between his feet, "notice my stance." Roy nodded and watched him, determined to soak in every detail. He tapped his left hand on the bottom of the gun, "hug the butt." He then wiggled his pointer finger on the other side, "finger off the trigger." Roy committed it all to memory, trying not to giggle immaturely at the word 'butt'. "Eyes ahead, make sure you're comfortable. Line your dominant eye with the sight." As he spoke, he squinted at the wall ahead. "Make sure the safety is off, breathe, then pull the trigger. Slowly release and lower your arms. Make sure to put the safety back on if you're not shooting again." With that, he lowered his arms and returned the gun to the holster. He kneeled down to the backpack and slid out a black marker from the front pocket. "I'll draw us some targets."
While Fun Dead was looking for a good spot on the wall, Roy touched his fingertips thoughtfully over his revolver. The metal pieces were cold to the touch, it froze his hands red. He went over the steps he had just been given. Stance…he put his left foot forward, determining what distance is the most comfortable and stable. Hugging the butt…he wrapped his left hand around the bottom. Finger off the trigger…he put his right hand on the other side and let his index finger stick out. Raising his arms ahead, he tried to straighten the barrel to his eye level. Breathe…
Fun Dead turned from his finished target and jumped out of the way. "Hey!" He yelped, "put that down! Never point a gun at someone unless you intend to shoot them!"
Roy blushed a deep red and immediately fumbled. He didn't mean to point it in his direction. "Sorry!" His back felt hot with embarrassment.
Fun Dead continued, bristling with annoyance, "did you even check if the safety was on? Do you even know where the safety is on that thing?"
"No, I'm sorry…" he squeaked out. Great, Roy muttered to himself, I already screwed it up.
When he was done drawing the second target, Fun Dead returned to the front end of the range. He confronted Roy, "don't get ahead of yourself. I know it's exciting but just wait your turn." I get it! Roy wanted to shout, no need to talk down to me! He forced himself to settle. Looking up at him, he noticed the focused pale green stare Fun Dead had on the wall ahead. In it, he did not find resentment nor impatience. Maybe he did need to talk down to him, Roy thought. In that moment he realized what he wanted more than anything was to impress his elder. "Now," Fun Dead began again and returned his gun to his hands. "It's important to remember the physics of a gun in order to use it properly. It's not like the video games and the movies where you can do a bunch of tricks and expect to hit the bullseye. There's a kick to it, it's a mini explosion in your hands. Just as an arrow is not perfectly straight and the wind can change its direction, a bullet will not always go where you expect it to." With that, Fun Dead straightened and slipped a cartridge inside the pistol. Holding it to position, he gave his direction, "cover your ears."
Roy obeyed. Within moments, a bang shocked the stillness of the room. Outside, a clutter of birds rushed into the air. Before he could think to uncup his ears, three more shots fired. He watched Fun Dead's form intently. When the gun went off, it flicked up in his hands. That's the recoil, he concluded. His eyes did not waver, and his stance was steady like a grand oak.
Then, he finished. Relaxing himself, Fun Dead lowered his gun and turned to him. Roy's eyes sparkled with fascination. Fun Dead gestured towards the revolver and then the target ahead. Roy took that to mean it was his turn. From where they were standing, he could see where the bullets had hit the wall. Two were perfectly within the innermost circle, while the other two landed a couple inches away. His heart started to beat faster, he had never imagined himself in this position.
After Fun Dead had made a quick note of the revolver's safety and how to grip its unique shape, Roy took his place and stood in a line in front of the target. He squinted, imprinting its shape in his head. If he was a bad shot, it wouldn't upset him. If he missed the target entirely he didn't care- but he was determined to impress Fun Dead with how well he had listened. He followed his advice again and held up the gun. Above the tip of the barrel he saw the bullseye. But what was that feeling inside him suddenly? The one which made him short of breath and lip start to quiver? Was it guilt? No. He had to have just been excited. Was it dread? Maybe- being in possession of a murder weapon. It was as cool as it was scary. He wielded the power that decided life or death in his hands. Did the Reds ever feel this way? Did the enforcers ever feel dread when they were practicing in that very same spot he was standing? After taking a final breath in, he squeezed the trigger. In an instant, the sound of the round firing pierced his eardrums. There was a flick to his wrist, but he expected it and didn't let go. Roy's heart was beating wildly, and he couldn't tell where the bullet had landed. He looked to the side to see Fun Dead eagerly searching for a hole in the cement wall and when they met eyes suddenly all the anxious thoughts had washed away. He was smiling, he was happy for him.
"Keep going until you empty it. We can look how you did after," Fun Dead gave him a warm smile that could ease any worry Roy had. More energized, Roy rolled back his shoulders and loosened up. After several more shots, the gun clicked and nothing more was produced from the barrel. He practically bounced over to the back wall, dying to find out how good of a shot he was on the first try. Fun Dead reached it first and surveyed the holes carefully. Upon first glance, the young shooter had done rather poorly. While it was unclear in which order the holes had appeared, what Roy thought must have been the first two shots were severely miscalculated and off the target entirely. All others though were at least in range, and the closest of which was hugging the rim of the middle ring. Close, but no cigar. "Not bad for a first time, yeah?"
Roy's eyes glistened with joy hearing it. "Let me try again, I can get way closer this time!"
Fun Dead pivoted and began walking back to the start of the range, "of course. I wouldn't give you a taste without the promise of a meal."
The sun was directly above them when they had finished shooting, and all the excitement had made Roy completely forget about school and home. So much so that when it was time to leave, he was surprised. Though he didn't protest, he made no effort to hide the fact that he wished they could have continued their practice. It really is great fun, Roy thought seriously, but at the end of the day this is skill training. His confidence was boosted significantly, and all the new experiences made his heart aflutter.
Now that the area had gone silent at last, a plumage of black birds gathered on the parking lot just outside the range building. When the door cracked open, they burst into flight and into the trees. Some of the snow had melted off, and Fun Dead's car was reflecting afternoon light off its wet exterior. One thing remained on Roy's mind though. "How did you get your hands on those guns anyway? The ammo too," he said before shutting the passenger seat door, locking himself inside.
Fun Dead didn't look at him. Instead he twisted the key inside the ignition and the car booted itself to life. The engine chugged and huffed but eventually calmed itself into a low and steady grumble. "You tend to collect a few interesting pieces in this walk of life." Was all he said as an answer. He then pulled out of the parking lot, not caring to look for other cars in the abandoned area, and carried forward onto the faded road.
This didn't satisfy Roy's curiosity. "But how?"
The older boy shrugged him off and dismissed the question, "I just gained possession of them over time."
Roy frowned. How come after such a great afternoon of training he was suddenly being so closed off? He had just trusted him to wield and use one of his weapons, right? Why would it be so wrong to question where they came from? Realizing he wasn't going to elaborate any further, Roy gazed out the window. Autumn trees, now almost stripped of their leaves, blurred amongst a forest of firs. He murmured half-heartedly, "I barely know anything about you, you know…"
"I was hoping to keep it that way." Fun Dead said bluntly. When Roy looked back at him, he was keeping his eyes firmly on the road ahead of him. Roy was suddenly aware of how quiet it was in the absence of rock music.
"But I don't even know your name…" Roy said sadly. He wanted so badly to be closer with his new mentor. "Why partner with me on this, and show me all of these things, and still not trust me with anything about you?"
"Look, kid-"
"I don't really think it's fair," Roy continued. "One-sided even." He concluded by folding his arms definitively. "If we're going to be partners, we should be open and honest with each other. Or at least know the basics about one another."
At last, Fun Dead conceded. With a sigh he managed an apologetic glance at Roy. "You make a good point. I guess it's fair to tell you a little bit about myself. What do you want to know? That isn't my name, anyway."
"Hmm…you can start with how you gained a hatred for the RA, like us." He stared curiously at him, eagerly awaiting a story.
Fun Dead nodded his head, then gathered his thoughts. "It was a long time ago," he breathed, "I was very little, and I went to an amusement park one day with my mom." As he told the story, he was staring ahead like he was traveling back in time. "It started out like any other day," he shrugged, "until I was under a tent, she went into the toilet stalls, I waited outside. Then someone came running from afar. She was screaming, waving her arms around, 'someone has a gun! Someone has a gun!' she kept going like that trying to alert everyone. I of course didn't know what that meant, but right after there were gunshots coming from the direction she was coming from." Roy looked at him with horror, predicting what he would say next. "People started to scatter, and suddenly I was surrounded by people's legs and pushed around. My mom wouldn't come out of the stall, so I stayed in place. Until this lady grabbed my arm and took me with her. Now of course I understand that she found a lone child out for the slaughter- but for a long time I held anger with that woman for separating me." When he spoke about her, Roy could sense the trace of hatred in his voice, like he was aching. "At some point I lost sight of that lady and the stalls- I don't really know, this part is a blur- but I heard distant screaming and in my little boy head I knew that people were dying over there. I was so scared so I ducked into the arcade where I felt I'd be sheltered. I snuck under a table and waited. And waited. And waited some more."
"Was the shooter…" Roy didn't want to say it, "a Red?"
"Worse." Careful not to spoil the ending, Fun Dead continued, "there was not one, but three shooters there that day. And if you paid attention in history class you'd know that when I was a kid there was no Red Army. At this point, they were just a small terrorist organization that barely anyone knew about. I didn't know it, but this was one of the first stunts Red Leader ever pulled in public."
Roy's eyes widened, "Red Leader was there? Did you see him?"
"They were sweeping the whole park, it was an absolute bloodbath. I heard their footsteps, and I saw their feet at the entrance. One of them must have spotted me under there. Next thing I knew, I was dragged out and was face to face with the oh grand and powerful himself." Fun Dead waved one hand in the air with flair. "He looked a hell of a lot younger then. But anyways, he dragged me out of that arcade and I finally saw the massacre. I saw bodies. There was blood. And I was afraid. He grabbed me by the collar and walked me some, and eventually we passed by the stalls where I was separated."
"Did you see your mum?"
"Yes. Or rather- she saw me. I guess she was cowering and watching, because as soon as she saw me she screamed out for me. She came out of the stall and tried to take me, but one of them shot her." Roy was silent at this, unable to comprehend the horror. "She died instantly. I'm pretty sure, but I have no way of knowing. Anyways they took me further a short while until the police showed up, and I never saw her again after that. They dropped me somewhere and ran off. I think they were trying to take me with them but decided it wasn't worth it? To this day I have no idea what they were trying to accomplish by taking me from under that table. From there I was put in foster care. Blah blah blah, I ran away when I was sixteen and stayed on the streets and when I was eighteen I got a job and worked my ass off until I got her." He tapped the dashboard of his car lovingly. "Lived in here for a while until just recently I moved into my first apartment."
"And now you're here?"
"And now I'm here."
"I'm very sorry all that happened to you," Roy looked at his feet, feeling thankful to be part of a privileged, loving household. "And about your mum."
"It's fine, really. It's not like I knew her that well as a six year old," Fun Dead chuckled, making sure to keep the mood still light and conversational. "But yeah, I'd say my hatred for the RA is pretty justified. That's my story, so what's yours?"
"Mine?" Roy grimaced, it was nothing as gruesome as his. He worried, what if he thinks I'm a pussy for it? Then he thought of Demeter and her tragedy, I suppose both are equally as traumatizing. "Well, I was adopted with my sister when I was nine."
"You're adopted? I didn't know that. Guess we're foster care buddies," Fun Dead smiled.
"Haha, yeah…" he hoped Fun Dead wasn't thinking about how lucky he was to be adopted into a well off family and he didn't. "When we were welcomed into the family, I grew really close to my adopted sister, Demeter. She was older than me and she seemed really cool. But…this year something really bad happened to her." Roy always avoided telling the whole story, he was told never to reveal the full truth of what happened. If people knew, they could judge his family or not associate with them at all. While he trusted him, he still danced around the subject. "She was really into the RA, in a good way. Like- she tried to figure out ways to rebel. I knew she was into that stuff but I didn't know how much until enforcers came to our house one day and arrested her for treason."
"Really?" Fun Dead turned to him. "Holy shit."
"Mhm," he continued, "they barged into the house and took her away by force, though she admitted to the crime." He remembered the look on his dads' faces as it happened. "We have no idea where she went, I haven't seen or heard from her ever since."
"You don't know what jail she went to?" Fun Dead repeated. Roy nodded. He then shook his head in disappointment. "Makes sense. So you're doing this for her?"
"That's my main reason, yeah. But I was in the group before then. I was already involved in this stuff. The enforcers took all her personal stuff away, and wiped her electronics or took those away too. I don't know where any of her stuff is anymore, it's no use to us now." He wasn't completely sure of that. He had to convince himself that it was true to deter him from going through his sister's things. It would be too painful. Perhaps there was something he missed in there, but he wouldn't know where to find it anyway.
"Well, we all got some fucked up past relating to the army. You got your shit and I got mine. All that matters now is doing something about it, right?" Fun Dead threw him a serious look. Roy agreed, and with that they continued to talk about unrelated matters.
When they got back to their rendezvous spot, Roy waved goodbye to him and hopped on his bike, heading back home. By that time it was the same time of day where he should be getting home from school, and he hoped that neither of his parents would be suspicious. He could hardly hurry, he was exhausted. While he learned a lot that day, his body was aching from everything they had done. His head was full of thoughts about Fun Dead, his past, and what they would do now as friends in the future. He had just learned to shoot a gun, and he was excited to find out if they would go out and practice again soon.
Impatience sizzled inside the tapping fingers of Edd's hand against the arm of his couch. The irregular humming of the heater penetrated his ears and grew ever more annoying the longer it went on. A gust of wind blew icy snowdrops into the kitchen window, and his house shook under its force. A few months ago the silence would have been welcomed. Coming home to a quiet house, free of responsibility. Relaxation would have met him then, alone and free to do as he wished. What the hell am I doing here? Edd thought while biting the inside of his lip. How can I sit here quietly while Tom and the others are working? Edd cursed the fact that he had to live so far away from London. If it were up to him, he'd be in the Blue Order's headquarters making himself useful any way he could. Gradually he noticed himself finding little joy in the same tasks as he used to. Watching TV, reading books, or taking night drives didn't seem fun anymore- not when saving the world was on the forefront of his mind. But tonight he had no time to work, it was a Monday, which meant his daughter would be at dance practice. Edd remembered the night of her birthday that he spent at Tom's apartment. He remembered what Tom had said to him. Amy is important to me, and I need to make time for her too.
In truth, while he did of course care about spending time honouring Amy's hobbies, what his ex wife said stung like a scorpion's pierce. Not said, threatened. If she ever took me back to court to negotiate custody, they can't prove I don't make an effort to be in her life. Edd hated thinking about things that way. He shouldn't have to prove his fatherhood to anyone, not a judge, not to Stacy, nor Tom.
Edd let out a long and exhausted sigh. He couldn't be bitterly sitting there forever. He didn't have to leave for another hour, so instead he got up and made his way to his bedroom. As he rounded the corner he swore he saw something moving. Just for a split second he thought he could hear a footstep coming from the door of his bathroom. He approached cautiously, aware that if there was an intruder, he had nothing to defend himself. In the hallway were the doors to the bathroom and Amy's room, with his own at the end. Amy's door was shut but the bathroom door was open halfway. He peeped his head into the bathroom and saw nothing. Another gust of wind slammed into the house and he realized that the sound of the wind and what he heard was similar. Jesus Edd, he shook his head in amusement at himself, all this mission stuff has you jumpy over the littlest thing. "Guess I'm no longer used to the silence after all," he finished aloud to himself.
When inside his bedroom he remembered one silly thing that could occupy his mind while he waited for time to pass. Inside his sock drawer was the watch that he kept stashed away ever since he took it out of his coat pocket. When he and Tom visited Bing, he learned that the mad doctor himself had made it and put it in Red Leader's possession. This had made the watch dangerous- whatever it was. Edd figured then it wasn't a good idea to keep it inside his coat pocket. Perhaps it had a tracking device inside that would lead Red Leader right to his very doorstep? He didn't know, but he didn't want to find out either. He never had the chance to really sit down and play with the thing, and maybe with this gap of his afternoon he could.
Sitting down at the edge of his bed, he tossed it around between his hands. It was heavier than it looked, and he thought it wouldn't make for a very comfortable watch. Nor would it make a fashionable one. But it had a wrist strap, so that must mean that it was for wearing? The buttons were chunky and colourful, its exterior flashy, but all of this were things he already knew. What he wanted to find out was what it actually did. Edd remembered from when he first held the watch in Red Leader's room that he had pressed a button to turn it on. Believing it was a red one on the top, the device beeped to prove he was right. The beep was less destructive than the first attempt, and he was grateful that this time at least there wasn't a naked sleeping woman next to him to scare awake. The screen ignited with life and displayed a number. He recognized the format instantly as a date. March sixteenth, sixteen years ago…an overwhelming sense of dread overtook him when he thought of it. Flashes of memory from that time swirled around in his head, Red Leader, moving, the fire, Tom, his friends…
A creak from the hallway brought him out of the fray. Wind pushed the house sideways and made it sigh with an aching chilly pain. He looked down at the clock again, what an out of date watch. It must not have been updated in a long time, that's all. But still the date made him uneasy. He didn't remember the day or month after all those years but he knew that it was Spring of that year when everything hit at once. Those memories were long gone now, and he tried not to think of them. But why would this watch not be updated at all since that year? He remembered the photo that was in the same drawer when he discovered the watch. Perhaps it was a preserved memory, a moment captured in time. Pulling out his phone, he wrote the date and time that it displayed in a note. When he was done with it, or if one day he ever returned it for whatever reason, he would put the date back as it was. I know I have no reason to, but for some reason I feel that this date was important to him.
Moving on, he played with the buttons and figured out that all the dials were to move the numbers. It was silly, he thought, that such a watch would need all these buttons just to move one date and time. Wasn't a very innovative watch, he thought, and Edd wondered how could a genius like Bing want to make something this useless. He set the date for today. Day, month, year, all updated. He had to futz with it some more to ensure that it was correct, but when it beeped with confirmation he smirked with satisfaction. Onto the time, he saw that it wasn't too far off, only about fifteen minutes slow. Not satisfied with having a several-minute-slow watch, he tried to remember which button was the right one to configure the time and clicked on the big yellow button at the bottom.
It felt like he was being electrocuted. At least he thought so, he had never been electrocuted before. A surge of energy shot through his hands from contact first, then traveled into the rest of his body in an instant. He wanted to shout out, unsure if it was out of pain or surprise, but before he could the sensation was already over. He looked around and panted, thoroughly spooked. He didn't know if it hurt, it all happened too fast to notice either way. His hands were shaking with shock, and he noticed he was trembling. If he was zapped by the old watch, then it wasn't to death, he was fine.
Alright then…he pulled out his phone, about to set the watch down and see how much time he wasted. He froze. The time…it wasn't right. It was the same time the watch was set for, fifteen minutes ago, but that wasn't correct. Blinking, his brain hurt trying to wrap around what had happened. Did he make a mistake? Did he set the right time without noticing? No, that wouldn't have made sense, he set the date not the time! Shaking off the odd occurrence, he decided to get some water. First the bathroom, now this? Maybe he was just dehydrated.
Stifling an early yawn, he was about to step into the living room when he glanced at a large figure sitting on his couch. Without wasting a millisecond, he sprang backwards and pressed his back against the wall. You're insane! He tried to reason, you're seeing entities now! There was no mistake, there was someone sitting there. It had to have been the figure I saw in the hallway earlier. And the bump I heard when sitting on my bed. There's someone in my house I know it! Edd's heart thumped out of his chest, adrenaline cooling his blood. I'm insane, this is insane, I'm going crazy. But as much as he gaslit himself, he could hear someone approaching. They saw me, I'm dead! Knowing he didn't have a weapon and the intruder probably did, he ducked into the bathroom while the door was half open. Sneaking his way behind the door, he cursed the hiding spot. Surely they would be able to see his shadow in the hinge crack? But before he could think to change his spot, he saw him. Through the crack of the door he saw a large man with dark brown hair and a sweaty white shirt standing right at the entrance of the bathroom. Edd's heart could have stopped and never started beating again. All he could do was widen his eyes and stare. It's…me.
As if he was looking in a mirror, the man mimicked his body language exactly, but did not move as he did in a mirror. Acting on his own, the other Edd broke his gaze from the inside of the bathroom and shook his head at the ground, "Guess I'm no longer used to the silence after all."
Wow, is that really what I sound like? Was his first thought. But he had to come back to logic, that's what I said earlier! How is this possible? Edd tried to grasp it. The time he set, it must have been the minute he had just gone into his room to play with the watch in the first place. But if that's true, and that man was really himself, then that must mean…I've gone back in time! Rushing feelings of excitement and wonder but also fear and dread circled around him. He felt light as air, like he could float into the sky and be one with the clouds. Bing was a genius, a madman, the craziest person he could conjure up in his mind. He had made a time machine! For Red Leader, he frowned the moment he reminded himself of it. But now it's mine!
There was no time to think of it all now, he was still hiding behind the bathroom door of his past self's house. My house, his face twisted with the weird thought, it's still my house. He wondered if he could burst out from the door and speak with his past self. Maybe to warn him about pressing the button, or just to tell himself of the possibility of time travel. But all logic pointed to that being a horrible idea, if i don't punch myself in the face first, he reckoned, that would cause a paradox, like in the movies! He was sure, anything that could prevent himself from the past from using the time machine could put his current self in danger. Then I would have never gone back, then I wouldn't have told myself anything, then I would cease to exist! Or something…
But nothing could be accomplished by standing there, so he slid out from the cover of the bathroom, knowing he had time to think. My past self is too busy playing with the watch to come over here, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't be careful and quiet. He eyed the watch on his wrist. So much power in such a little device. Now he felt bad for ever making fun of its presentation. He tried setting the time again, being especially careful not to press the big yellow button that had warped him in the first place. He remembered the time he was supposed to set it, he wondered if the milliseconds mattered. Better set it to one minute ahead then, just to be sure. But then would that minute of him not exist? Was there never an Edd on Earth for that minute in time? None of it made sense, but he had to try. Gathering his courage, he placed his finger over the button, and gulped. Do you think if my past self did punch me, I'd suddenly feel it? Well, since it happened a few minutes ago it'd still sting right? Was what he thought as he took his leap of faith.
He expected the jitters this time, though it still felt unwelcome. He tensed all his muscles in preparation for the shock again, and when it coursed through him from toes to ears, he almost felt like crying. While he was remaining calm on the surface, he knew it was a method of panic and survival. For that moment, he wondered if playing with this machine was going to kill him. Would that please Red Leader? Who would find his body if it killed him? Would there be a body for someone to find? Was there a God that he would meet had he ceased to exist on this mortal plain?
But when he cracked open his eyes, all Edd saw was his bathroom. The shock had passed just as quickly as it came. He was alright. He unclenched his jaw, and relaxed his arms from his sides. He turned to see himself in the mirror. His reflection blinked as he did. Seeing his past self, a clone, it was…grotesque. The only time he felt similar was when he saw Amy walking for the first time. A child with his face, now upright and walking all on her own. She was her own human now that could move at a speed he couldn't keep up with. Someone who looks just like him, behaving in a way he could no longer control.
He ripped the watch off his wrist and shoved it far beneath a layer of socks. Closing the drawer as far as he could, he wished the drawer had a lock. He never wanted to see it again, but knew that he had to see it again at one point if he needed to use it against Red Leader. All seemed well for now, but what if he had set off a chain of events that completely changed his universe? It all seemed the same now, but what if he came back in a parallel universe where one single thing was changed? Whatever it was, he didn't want anything to do with it…at least for now.
The dance studio was an unassuming little building. It was at the end of a strip mall and maybe a little run down- if not for the glittering pink neon sign above the door. Seeing it, Edd was sure he was in the right place. The parking lot already held a sum of cars, indicating that he was not the first nor the last to arrive.
Walking in, a wave of heated air wafted into his face, melting the snowflakes clinging to his coat. Inside was an open wooden floor with a thick layer of gloss reflecting the cool white LED bars on the ceiling. On one side there was a set of bleachers in which several mothers sat patiently. On the floor were a few of the girls, dressed in pink leotards and equipped with high buns tied tightly against their heads. Edd couldn't find Amy among them.
Heading towards the bleachers, he suddenly felt self conscious. All the women sitting on the bleachers had their hair done in soft curls and their eyes shone with makeup. Some of them were even adorned with bright lipstick. They had nice clothes on too- Edd assumed anyway. Unsure where among them he belonged, he heard a sharp whisper from behind him. "Edd!"
Whipping around, he was met with the all familiar face of his ex wife. "Stacy!"
"I didn't think I'd ever see you here." Although she was smiling, and sounded pleasantly surprised, Edd wasn't sure if he should take that as a compliment.
"Oh…you know, just showing support…" Edd still didn't know if this was the type of thing dads were meant to attend. Considering the current audience, he didn't think so.
One of the mothers butted in, "is this Amy's father?" When Edd turned to her, immediately her vibe did not resonate with him. She looked like the type of woman to cause a scene in public. Soon multiple pairs of eyes were drawn to him and he shrank under the attention of the unfamiliar peers.
Stacy answered before he got a chance, and Edd noticed that her response was sharp and she eyed them cautiously. "Yes. Everyone, this is Edd." She held out a hand and started introducing the women to him but the names went over his head as soon as she said them. Edd nodded politely and sat in an open seat that Stacy had pointed out to him. Edd scanned the floor again and still could not find Amy. Stacy must have followed his gaze, "she's still changing in the locker room. She'll be out in a minute."
"Oh, alright," Edd said passively.
"Does this place make you nervous?" Stacy eyed him out of the corner of his vision.
Why must she know what I'm thinking? Edd thought, frustrated that he can't ever seem to hide how he's feeling. "No no," he lied, "not nervous. Just curious. I've never been to something like this before."
"I know, you were never much of a sports person," Stacy chuckled softly beside him.
Too many things were going on inside his head. In one aspect, Edd couldn't understand why she was acting so casual with him considering their recent argument. Perhaps she was being nice in front of the other moms, maybe she was even embarrassed to be seen with him. That's why she was cautiously introducing me, he realized, they already know who I am. He tried not to let his mood turn sour at the thought. He was too distracted by the time watch incident to worry about whether or not his ex wife gossiped about him. Even still the questions churned inside him. Should I tell Tom or Matt about this? No. Absolutely not. At least not Tom. No, not Tom for sure. He'd be really angry once I tell him how I got it, and that it was made by that Dr. Bing guy. And if I told Matt he'd tell me to tell Tom…or do it himself. Then, a brown haired girl with Edd's rosy cheeks skirted the corner and tumbled onto the floor with a gaggle of girls. But how could I keep something so big from them? I traveled through time. I traveled through time! How is that even possible?
The girl's eyes widened with glee and pranced up to Edd. She slapped her hands onto his lap and leaned into him, "you came!"
Edd was brought back to his current time once more. He held her by her arms while she bounced excitedly, "of course I did! Sorry this is the first one…" He smiled awkwardly at her, knowing that she must have been waiting for the week he would finally visit. But Amy didn't care. She wrapped her arms around his neck in a hug. Then an older woman dressed in black called out for the girls to line up in attendance. When Amy pulled away, she looked at him with wordless regret, wishing she could stay and chat. Edd blinked affectionately at her, signaling that it was alright.
As she skipped away to join her class, Edd noticed the smile on Stacy's face. He was close to smirking at her, to get back at her for their argument. See? Would you really take this girl away from her father? But he had to hold it in. He could only imagine her reaction if he had said it out loud.
Minutes into the practice, at first everyone quietly allowed the instructor to pass on her directions. But now the women behind Edd chittered away with each other about varying obnoxious topics. This was most certainly an environment he wasn't used to. And the only thing he could think about was how none of these women knew how much danger they were in. What a burden it was that Edd needed to sit impatiently in a place like that while he knew what was going on in London. In the United States even, as Edd saw recently on the news. The situation was only getting worse. Forces have pushed all the way to the west coast, and NYC was already lost. The Americans were fighting hard with everything they had, but the Red Army was stronger. The cruel truth was that the Army was unafraid of using unfair or torturous tactics if it would ensure their victory. They would never report it in the news, but Edd knew from the Blue Order that they had been deploying poison gas, firebombs, and restricting food and water supplies to the American people. If only the citizens of the Red Nations knew any of this, if only these women knew, maybe people would stand up and fight for them. For themselves, for their families, for their country.
Stacy must have noticed the stormy clouds surrounding him, "you seem a bit tense today."
There she is, 'receptive Stacy!' Edd decided to be truthful, "have you seen what's been going on at the West front?"
Stacy let out a short sigh and Edd was unsure if she was feeling remorse for the Americans or was tired of talking about politics. "To be honest I've been trying not to, it makes me too sad."
No! That's the exact opposite of what you should do! "Well it is sad."
She dipped her head and brushed him off, "well there's only so much we can do. Who knows, maybe they'll turn the tide. But if they don't, we'll still be welcoming when they join the Nations right?"
What are you talking about? Edd felt disgusted by her words. How could she be so passive about this? 'Be welcoming'? Like hell. They'll be slaves just like us. "I don't think they'd appreciate our warm welcome," he spat. Stacy gave him a hard look and flashed her eyes at the other women, who Edd just now realized were quieter than they were before. Suddenly he felt their stares bore into him from behind, and he even spotted that particularly awful looking woman leaning into the mom next to her. She was whispering something into her ear. Was this how he was meant to behave? Ignoring the very obvious problems with the government's actions just to be "polite"? He wouldn't stand for it. Not after this afternoon, where he was met face to face with his own self, back minutes in time. Would these women even comprehend that kind of technology? Edd doubled down. "Six thousand Americans. In two months, six thousand American civilians were killed because of Red Army actions. You honestly think they'll jump for joy when they find out they'll be part of us?" This time, he wasn't just addressing Stacy.
When they realized they had been caught eavesdropping, they all looked away or started chatting to themselves, pretending nothing had happened. At least…most of them. A few, including the stickler Edd had predicted would become a problem, took his bait. Stacy resolved quickly, "I didn't say that! I just meant that they'll be in better hands once the fighting ends." She was glancing at the others, looking for approval. Edd found it hard to believe that this was the same woman he had known for almost two decades. Since when do you hold others' opinions of you in such high regard? Or do you really feel that way?
The problem mom crossed her arms and narrowed her eagle-talon-sharp eyes at him, "kind of you to take pity on them, but it would be wiser if they would just join Europe." She laughed and gave a sly smile, "I mean, it's the 21st century- this is the future!" The moms closest to her laughed too and the scene reminded Edd of the popular girls in high school. Her laugh cracked with the sign of a cigarette smoker, and from her open mouth he could see the line of her lipstick cutting off on the inside of her lips. "It's better here anyway. Those idiots should have signed themselves over in the first place. Maybe then they'd have access to our healthcare!" They took flight into laughter once more.
The woman next to her added, "they'll definitely need it now!"
All of it was a sick reminder that there were, in fact, always people who supported the Red Army. Most genuinely, even from the beginning. And it's because of their blind support and willingness to cooperate that everything became this bad in the first place. Edd would hear no more of it, "Is that how you feel? After seeing what our armies are doing? Killing innocent families and destroying cities, you feel nothing more than that's what they deserve? Is your loyalty to the Army that strong?"
They stopped laughing. The lady to the right of the cackling witch shifted uncomfortably in her seat and dropped into a low voice, almost as if she was scared to say it out loud, "is yours not?"
The eagle-eyed lady leaned into him, "are you saying that you would prefer that the Americans defeat the Red Nations? That you want our leader to die?"
What?! Edd was completely taken aback by the accusations. All the women now were looking at him expectantly. Edd didn't know how to respond. He realized that no matter how he answered, there was no getting through to these women. Whether or not they were performing their praise for the Reds, the fact was that none of them were going to admit their cruelty. Luckily, Stacy came in to rescue him from social ruin, "he didn't mean that." She was smiling awkwardly and she placed a reassuring hand on Edd's knee. When he felt her touch, it was like one of her thoughts transferred into his head, just follow my lead! "What he meant to say was that it's so discouraging to see the Americans suffering due to their stubbornness. Sometimes you question their methods but, in the end everyone knows that Red Leader will do what he can to bring peace to the world, right?"
While he recognized that she was trying to help him, after everything Edd had witnessed thus far with the Order, he did not wish to bow to Red Leader now. "No. That's not what I meant. I meant exactly what I said."
Stacy looked at the ground angrily, "well I guess we disagree then." With an annoyed huff, she turned away from all of them and watched the children dance.
At her leave, the other women looked Edd up and down, taking in his looks and judging him behind terrible scowls of distrust. He didn't need keen ears to hear the head witch say, "I see what you mean about him now, Stacy." Edd didn't care. At first he walked into the room not knowing his place, but now he knew that he didn't have one. Nor did he want one.
As soon as practice let out, Edd headed into the parking lot. He was uninterested in floating about the studio and mingling with the other moms. He stood near Stacy's truck in hopes to catch her and Amy as they were leaving. But when Edd saw Stacy stomping towards him their daughter was not by her side. Instead, when she reached him she grabbed his forearm and led him further into the parking lot to speak with him alone.
"Thank you, Edd, for embarrassing me in front of the entire class!" Her eyes were ablaze with fury.
"Oh, you're embarrassed? How about, 'I see what you mean about him now'?" Edd mocked the she-eagle's voice. "Thanks a lot."
Stacy pinched her nose, "that is not the point and you know it."
Edd continued before she could reach her bigger point, "why do you even care about what they think anyways? I mean who even were those guys?" Stacy tried to speak but Edd kept on, "and- how could you say that about the Americans? You don't really think that way do you?"
She whipped her hands in the air, "it doesn't matter what I think!" She looked around to make sure no one was watching them. The moms were beginning to pull out of the building gradually, but no one was close enough to overhear them yet. "This is about Amy. This day is about Amy. I go to dance practice for Amy. And if that means I have to put up with a bunch of high strung dance moms for two hours of my week then so be it." She was looking at him with eyes that were desperate for him to understand. When Edd didn't respond, she let her shoulders sag. "I know it's hard to listen to. And I know it's awkward to talk about him like that because you used to be his friend," Edd assumed she was referring to Red Leader by 'he', "but that was then and this is now. Right now he is our Chairman, and that means you have to talk about him with respect whether you like it or not. This isn't my family's backyard get together, this is in public and Amy's reputation is on the line!" Edd continued to express his disappointment with her by hanging his brows low on his face. They stared into each other's eyes for a moment until one of the ladies passed by them and climbed into her own car with her daughter. Stacy did not move her eyes as she said, "for one day, Edd, I would love for you to think about someone else besides yourself." At her next blink she turned away from him and together they spotted the exhausted shape of Amy padding alongside her classmate headed in their direction. She split off from her and as she did so Stacy added without looking at him, "and I suggest you stop looking at the news so much? It's not very good for your mental health to be surrounded by politics all the time."
Amy ran up to her mother and exchanged a few sentences before the evil mom returned to their presence. To Edd's dismay he discovered that the girl Amy was tagging alongside was the witch's daughter. He took a few paces forward just in time to hear her tug the girl closer to her side. "Alright, that's enough Caitlyn. You don't need to be hanging out with foolish rebels anymore." With a hard look at Edd she pulled her daughter in the other direction, much to her protest.
Amy looked at her parents with confusion then back at the other girl as she was being pulled away, "okay…bye!"
Stacy said quietly into her ear, "we'll talk later." Edd was glad he wasn't going to be present for whatever she was going to say about him. She then encouraged her to hop into the backseat and Amy obeyed, tucking her duffle bag in first. Stacy looked longingly at the head mom then back at Edd, "great. Now I'm going to apologize to Marissa because you're not going to." Without waiting for him to stop her, she stalked off leaving him alone.
He took those moments as an opportunity to speak with Amy before she left. When he looked towards her he spotted her face darkened by the windows looking back at him. He met her at the door opened on her side. She was surprisingly not at all worried about the quarrel with the other mom, at least Edd didn't detect so. Edd praised her for the good practice and talked about how amazing she looked on the dance floor. While he was admittedly too distracted by everything else to really watch her, he did take notice of her hardworking attitude and was proud of his daughter for doing a good job. He was also happy for her, too, that she looked to have some friends in the class. Maybe not anymore…the dark thought dusted around his head. But looking at her face, he didn't think she was paying much attention.
