Grant entered the house and slammed the door. His parents were probably asleep but at this point he didn't care. He still didn't understand what went wrong. He tried to stand up for Skye and got yelled for it and then Raina wasn't returning his texts. She wasn't typically the type to get jealous. He gave a frustrated sigh and went to the kitchen, searching for some water to combat the alcohol in his system. He nearly yelled when he saw a flash of movement in the backyard.

For a moment he hoped it was Skye, returning to apologize for her outburst, but instead he was met with the grinning face of John Garrett. Grant tried to hide his disappointment when he slid open the door, but Garrett was perceptive.

"Disappointed its me?" he smirked, "Did you think it was your girl? Skye?" Grant was not surprised Garrett knew he was expecting Skye, Raina had mentioned that he was at the party, besides, John had a habit of knowing everything anyways.

John made himself comfortable, grabbing a glass and pouring himself some scotch from his flask.

"What are you doing here John? You're supposed to be in Miami." Garrett took a sip from his scotch before responding,

"I'm here on business kid, and I need your help." Grant crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow,

"Why me?" Garrett feigned a look of shock,

"Well isn't it obvious! After the night you've had I thought you would need something to take your mind off your woman troubles. Besides, you've gotten built since I last saw you." He eyed Grant's toned muscles, "and I need someone intimidating." Grant briefly wondered what Garrett was doing that he needed intimidation. When he didn't respond, Garrett clapped his hands with glee,

"I'll take that as a yes! Now go change into something less high school and we'll get going." Grant still wasn't entirely sure about what John had in mind but he went to change anyways.

An hour later Grant found himself standing in a dingy room trying to look intimidating. Before they had walked into the run down building Garrett had handed Grant a gun. When he saw Grant's panicked look, he laughed and assured him that it was filled with duds and for intimidation purposes only. He had been instructed to stay behind Garrett and make sure the deal went off without a hitch. What type of deal, Grant wasn't sure, but he trusted John to know what he was doing.

They had only been waiting for a few minutes when the door to the room opened and an older man stepped in. His grey hair was gelled back and his blue eyes were magnified by his wire glasses. His eyes narrowed when he spotted Grant.

"The deal was to come alone, John." Garrett shrugged,

"Don't mind him, he's just here for assurance. Did you bring what I asked?" The older man nodded and lifted the briefcase in his hand. He set it down on the table.

"Did you bring the money?" John leaned down and lifted up a black bag onto the table. The old man nodded at the bag and John opened the zipper a bit to verify that there was indeed money in the bag. Upon confirming the money the older man slid the briefcase over and made a grab for the black bag, but John pulled it away at the last minute.

"Hold on a second. I need to verify that there is indeed product in that briefcase." The older man froze. Grant thought he could see the man physically begin to sweat. He reached slowly towards the clasps. Garrett was so focused on the briefcase he didn't notice the other man's hand reaching behind his back. Grant did. He saw a flash of silver and before he knew what he was doing he gave a shout and raised his gun. He had effectively gained the attention of both men. John looked confused for a moment before he followed Grant's gaze and locked his eyes on the other man's hand, frozen an inch away from his waist belt. Without hesitation, Garrett reached over and pulled out the gun from the other man's pants.

"A gun? Really? Is this what our partnership has been reduced to Doctor Whitehall?" The doctor raised his hands in surrender and took a step back.

"Like you said. It's assurance." Garrett ignored the doctor and reached for the briefcase. He snapped it open and gave a big hearty laugh,

"Next time you try to kill me, you may want to reconsider actually bringing the product." He snapped the briefcase shut and dragged it off the table, "Now it's a win for me and a lose for you." The doctor simply smirked,

"That's what you think." Grant had a moment to process what the doctor had said before the door was kicked open and shots rang out. Grant ducked behind the table and shielded his head. Bullets whizzed by and there was a great deal of shouting. He closed his eyes and waiting for the madness to be over.

It felt like ages before the shoots abruptly stopped. Grant waited a moment before peeking his head over the table. The room resembled a war zone, bullet holes littered the walls and there were broken pieces of furniture all over the place. Grant could see a hunched figure on the floor. He scrambled over to the figure and breathed a sigh of relief when it was somebody he didn't recognize. He could hear the faint sound of sirens in the distance, getting closer. He didn't have time to look for Garrett, he had to get out of there before the cops showed up.

Grant gripped the fake gun Garrett had given him and ran out the door. He could barely hear over the roar of the blood rushing through his ears, but he heard something move on his left and he turned towards the sound. In the poorly lit hall, a dark figure was approaching, fast. Grant lifted the gun in warning, the figure didn't even hesitate. Fear took over and all rational thought left Grant's head as he pulled the trigger to the gun. He was hoping the sound would scare off the figure, but what happened next surprised him.

The figure dropped to the floor.

Grant ran over to the body and gasped in horror. It was Garrett. Grant's eyes trailed from the man's glassy eyes to the rest of his body. The man looked relatively unharmed, except for a single bullet-hole in his torso. Realization hit Grant like a freight train. John had lied about the dud bullets. The gun had been loaded with real, deadly bullets, and Grant had just shot him. The sound of sirens had grown louder. The police had no doubt already arrived.

Grant didn't care. Everything felt numb. He had just shot someone. He barely registered the shouts of the police officers as they arrived on the scene. He didn't feel any pain as they tackled him and forced his face on the ground. The cold steel of the handcuffs on his wrist felt like nothing. All the commotion around him felt like nothing more than a whisper.

He remained in his dreamy state until they reached the precinct. While they booked him, he began to feel sick, and once they closed the cell doors behind him, he ran to the dingy toilet in the back and threw up. He wasn't sure if it was due to the alcohol from earlier, or the whole shooting situation, but he continued until there was nothing left in his stomach. Once Grant was sure he was through he wiped his mouth and sat on the cool floor.

All the adrenaline from earlier had vanished, and Grant was exhausted. He didn't have the energy to process the events of the day. When it came time for Grant to get his one call he didn't hesitate to dial the number that had been in his head all night. The phone rang twice before someone answered the phone,

"Hello?" came the sleepy voice,

"Skye?"

"Grant?" Skye no longer sounded like she had just woken up. She sounded pissed.

"Don't hang up. I need your help." Skye scoffed,

"Really? You need my help. I thought it was the other way around." Grant couldn't find the energy to contemplate her tone,

"I'm in lock-up right now and I need you to call my parents to come get me." Grant could hear Skye shifting on the other end of the line. That sure got her attention.

"What?"

"I don't have much time. I need you to call my mom and tell her she needs to pick me up."

"Why did you call me and not your house?" Grant sighed,

"They track the calls. Given the circumstances, and with my dad, it would look bad if I called the house. And you're the only one I trust to keep this on the down low." Skye hummed in understanding,

"I get it. It would be a field day with the press if they found out the son of the Senator was in lock-up." The phone beeped twice, signaling the call was coming to an end.

"Thank you Skye. I owe you."

"That's a given."

Grant wanted to say more, but the phone beeped once and he was met with a dial tone. He sighed and allowed himself to be led back to the holding cell.

It was another hour before the guard came back for Grant. He led the boy out to the waiting room where he was met with the sight of his father. Senator Ward was dressed in jeans and a button down, but it didn't make him appear any less intimidating and official. Grant kept his eyes on the floor the whole way to the car and kept his gaze outside the window of the car the whole way home. His father didn't speak a word.

When they reached the house, he was sent straight to his room. He could hear his mother and father talking quietly downstairs. He considered eavesdropping, but his bed appeared too inviting. Too tired to change into his pajamas, he crawled under his sheets and quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.

BEFORE YOU GET MAD THAT THERE WAS BARELY ANY SKYE IN THIS CHAPTER BE PATIENT THERE IS A POINT TO ALL THIS

So a lot happened in this chapter. But keep in mind. ITS 1:30 AM.

I'm going to reiterate, there is a point to all this. Time will progress eventually but there will be one more chapter for age 17.

As always, please let me know what you think. Please be nice.

review review review.

-Alex