A/N: Not all to happy with this chapter, gave me a hard time. But it's the closest I can get to what I wanted.

Thanks to everyone whose favorited and followed! Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 2 Mr. Udall

The drive to the old Drew Studio took about an hour, due to Devon getting lost several times, despite GPS. Within that time Ryan had snuck two more beers, and seemed like he was gearing up for his fourth. You had given up trying to deter him from drinking any more halfway through his second drink. The bastard could be ridiculously determined, especially when it came to his alcohol.

You and Devon had debated about how close you should park, not trusting Ryan to not somehow get the cops called on him for being a nuisance or something, but Devon didn't want to park where the car could be traced to the break in. It was was decided to park in the city that sat about a block away from the studio.

By the time Devon parked the car day was about to break and Ryan was humming nonsense to himself and slightly swaying, but not dangerously so. Once out and walking you handed Devon the drawstring bag, seeing as Ryan confiscated the duffel and you already had your own.

It took over thirty minutes for you all to make it to the gate of the studio, because the drunk one of you three thought that a rabbit that you all walked passed was after his beer.

….

He was beyond tipsy by the time the gate was in view.

Said gate was rusted, covered by nature, and hanging off it's hinges, allowing you three to simply walk past it unheeded. Which was a good thing because Ryan was to uncoordinated to climb it. You began thinking that the first aid kit was going to be meant for him instead of you.

The studio was located on top of a hill that was surrounded by trees just on the edge of Redwood Regional Park. The place used to be some sort of hunting cabin, if you remembered correctly, that was bought and renovated during the Depression by Mr. Drew and his co-founder, and it used to be pretty far from civilization before the town over was built in the 1800's. Then again all of that could've been bullshit you mind made up on the spot. You mused to yourself that you'd probably check Google when you got home.

Ryan suddenly snickered and slurred horrendously, "Ja'on gonna come oud da no'ere an' g-get us."

Rolling his eyes Devon replied, "Oh, come on man! Don't say that, this place is creepy 'nough as is. I swear, Slenderman, or somethin', 's gonna pop outta nowhere."

You laughed at that, always amused at what you thought was an unreasonable fear. Even though you didn't fear anything you understood why people feared somethings.

Fear of needles, reasonable.

Death, also reasonable.

A fictional character like Slenderman, not so much.

"That or we are soooooo gonna get caught by the police." Devon murmured as he looked down at his feet, mind full of the uneven ground, ignoring your outburst.

"Fffffffuck da police!" Ryan spat and kicked the ground, losing his balance momentarily.

"Hey," you snapped playfully, "my dad's a cop."

"An' he's a-a good pig." Ryan slurred and swung an arm around you. He looked seriously at your face and pointed at your nose, his eyes off focus, "You should be proud."

You snorted, then nipped at the offending digit. Ryan yelped and yanked himself away from you.

Devon shook his head at your antics, and the irony of you being a defense attorney and a cops daughter, yet were planning a break in.

After while of walking up the incline, where Ryan fell down only once, causing Devon to throw out a pun about having a nice fall, and stumbled thrice, the three of you suddenly noticed a figure standing next to a running truck a good distance in front of the old studio. The headlights illuminated the back of the mystery person, and you could easily make out that the mystery person was rubbing the back of their neck as he stared at the building.

Devon paused as soon as the person was noticed and grabbed the sleeve of Ryan's shirt to stop him while you stood on the other side of your drunken friend.

"Oh, man. Oh, man. We dead. We should just turn 'round now." You heard Devon mumble as he backed up a couple steps.

Ryan narrowed his eyes and leaned forward slightly, almost falling over, "Wait…that car... is that…."

You frowned thoughtfully and walked forward a bit to get a better look. That truck did look remarkably familiar, hell, that license plate border looked like a very familiar, one of a kind border a classmate of yours made for a beloved teacher. You broke out into a grin.

You continued walking forth, Ryan stumbling after you, and Devon momentarily stayed in place as he voiced your name with a strangled yelp before he, too, followed you. After a few steps you cupped your hands over you mouth and hollered.

"Hey! Professor!"

The figured startled and seemed to drop a piece of paper, which he ignored as he, for he was a he, spun around.

"[Name]!" The Professor's voice was layered with disbelief, his eyes wide with his shock, and a hand pressed to his chest.

You just grinned, waved, and walked faster.

"Don't do that, you just about scared this old man to his grave." The older man closed his eyes as he leaned heavily against his vehicle, and sighed.

"Ah, don't be like that, Professor," you chuckled and bent down to pick up the fallen paper, "I doubt little old me will be the one to off you."

As you handed the paper, old, yellowing, and fragile looking back to your professor you couldn't help but notice his eyes narrowed in suspicion, "What are you doing here, [Name]?"

Giving your best, cheekiest grin, you answered truthfully, "My friend Ryan was dared, and Devon and I didn't want him to be stupid alone."

Narrows eyes darted behind you, where your friends now awkwardly stood, "Dared to do what, exactly?"

Devon stuttered and looked everywhere but at the Professor, fearfully of being caught by a staff member, of all things, from school and maybe actual go to jail for trespassing or something. He feared this would get you all kicked out of a good school and add another thing to the list of reasons that made him inadequate in his parent's minds. Briefly, the young man contemplated throwing himself down the hill to get out of the situation you all found yourselves in.

Ryan rolled his eyes, pointed over your shoulder at the building in sullenly silence, crossed his arms, and then pouted, not happy that he was stopped while he was so close to completing his dare. The alcohol was so effective at clouding his mind that he couldn't compute the danger that the dare he was so adamant on doing had put your all in.

You face relaxed into a pleasant smile, fearing nothing as you looked at your favourite professor.

The professor pinched the bridge of his nose at your look, and tilted his head to the ground, "And what, pray tell, will happen if your friend doesn't go through with this dare?"

"Oh, utter humiliation of course!"

"Do ya haveta act so happy 'bout the situation?" Devon groaned and looked up at the sky, as if praying for some kind of spiritual intervention.

You felt Ryan lean forward on your shoulder. His own, slightly out of focus, eyes narrowed in a glare, "Whad are you doin' here, Mist'r?"

The professor looked up, and frowned, "Are you drunk?"

"No, 'm Ryan, thought we said that."

You snorted, Devon buried his face in his hands and grumbled to himself.

"You know why we're here, Professor, and I doubt you're here for the same reason."

The older man obviously tried to stop the smile that was creeping across his face, but he was unsuccessful. The small smile turned to a contemplative frown as he looked down at the slip of paper, "An old friend back from my animation days wants me to see something."

Your eyes drifted to what must've been a letter, an old one too. You frowned, "Hey, Professor?" you started slowly, "how long have you had that, it looks like you've had since the war."

"That's the kicker, I got this a couple days ago."

"What, the guy doesn't have anything newer?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen Joey in almost seventy years….." The guy trailed off, as if he wanted to say more.

You blinked slowly at that, not at the amount of years but at putting two and two together. And old friend who your professor hasn't seen for sixty years who wants to meet him at his old, seemingly abandoned, studio? Based on the stories your professor loved to tell in class you could only come to one conclusion.

"What does Mr. Drew want to show you after all these years?"

He shrugged, "That's what I'm here to find out."

You didn't like this. From what the professor said, Mr. Drew and himself didn't part on good terms. At all . Sure, old age and time passing could of cooled off Drew's temper, but the way the professor described his old friend made it seem like the guy could hold a grudge. And you knew, through some of the accounts about your parents jobs, that grudges held for so long didn't end well. There was also one other thing that was bothering you, and you had to ask.

"Is Mr. Drew even, you know….. alive ?"

Your professor looked back at the letter, a look of utter sorrow etched onto his face, and you kind of regretted even asking. But that letter could of been in the mail for years, based on how old it was.

Ryan, still leaning on you, snickered, "'course he's alive, dead men don't send no le-ledders."

You ignored him, and his breath, and tried to change the subject, "Well, think Old Drew will mind if you have some tag-alongs? We can say it's for my midterm, or that we're your grandkids."

That wiped the sorrow almost completely from his face, though it still lingered in his eyes, and he gave you a look of pure exasperation, "You haven't started it, have you."

You grinned. Exasperation was better then sadness.

He just stared at you three. Devon shifted nervously behind you, Ryan swaying slightly, and you just smiling away. Finally, after a handful of seconds, he sighed, turned to turn off his truck, and beckoned you to follow him to the building, "I guess we're all going in then."

Ryan whooped, and threw his hands in the air. Devon heaved a sigh of pure relief, and you skipped after your teacher, "You're awesome Mr. Udall, a real life saver!"

"Yeah yeah, you brats. Come on."

"See, this is why you're my favourite. I told you guy he was awesome."

You just couldn't stop smiling. You were making sure that your drunk friend was completing his dare, you got to help support the best art teacher you've ever had, look around a piece of history, and you got some cash and a knife out of the who thing.

It was turning out to be a pretty awesome night.

A/N: Oh! Joey says it been thirty years, and yet Henry says its been longer? Whaaaaat? :)

Let's say Ryan sprung the party idea on you around 9pm, left around 10pm, you all arrived around 10:30. You stayed until 5. That's seven fucking hours at a party you didn't even want to be at, and you spent that time helping Devon studying and what not.

You are a true friend.

Just realized, I don't think your butt would even get numb for sitting for so long, at least you shouldn't be able to feel it. Perks.

Anyways, you guy leave for the Studio around 5-5:15, drive takes roughly 30 minutes (according to Google map, and if there is no construction), but Devon get's lost and you have to decide where to park, so that's about 1 hour. Park around 6:05 or so, then walk 30-45 minutes. So, with that in mind, let's say that you guys get to the studio by 6:50. This website: astronomy/usa/oakland says that the sun rises in California by 6:43, so day breaks basically as you lay eyes on the studio.

I did math for this...

Let me know what you think!

See a mistake? Please let me know! I'm lazy a hell and tend to miss things when I look over chapters. Plus I have moments where it seems like I don't know English.