"BZZZT"

"BZZZT"

"BZZZT"

Duncan was pulled from his REM cycle by the unwelcome song of his alarm. Without opening his eyes or moving anything but his arm, he shut the damn thing to "snooze" in one smooth motion. This being the better alternative than tossing it at his bedroom wall; three times is more than enough for that sort of thing to happen…With peace and quiet restored, he was ready to resume sleeping; if it weren't for his dad marching into the room to wake Duncan up himself.

Every morning at 7:00 am like clockwork Tony Nelson would enter his son's bedroom to get him out of bed, knowing full well he couldn't trust an inanimate object to get the job done. He wasn't particularly proud that he had to do this, but it became routine for him since Duncan started junior high and unlike most people, Tony's patience was at its highest first thing in the morning. He looked down on his son's sleeping form.

"How does he sleep with all that metal in his face?" He thought to himself. He then gingerly tousled Duncan's shoulder in an attempt to get him moving.

"Hey bud it's time to get up, move it." All Tony got in response was a barely legible "noooooo;" thankfully while half asleep Duncan still had the self-control not to say "fuck off." They did the same song-and-dance daily; Duncan would punch his alarm clock, Tony strolls in to nicely wake him up, and when that fails, he just went about his own morning routine until there's only ~15 minutes until they had to get going and he once again went to wake up Duncan. Only this time he would just rip the sheets off of his son's body and gives him a flick on the ear for good measure. Duncan may loathe this approach, but it's worked since 7th grade so Tony gladly continued it if it meant getting his son's ass out of bed.

Duncan felt the sudden chill over his body and not long after came the thwack and slight sting on his left ear. Oh great, it must be morning.

"What the Hell?!" He exclaimed as if on cue, sitting up and grabbing his ear. He tried to focus his eyes to concentrate frustration on his dad, but because he was still half asleep and not wearing his glasses or contacts all he could make out was Tony's fuzzy silhouette in his bedroom doorway.

"I warned ya pal." Tony had his arms crossed, sunlight reflecting on his badge that contrasted with his suit. Duncan couldn't see his face very clearly, but he swore he was looking smug. "Now get dressed. I'll see you downstairs; and I swear to God don't go back to sleep!" He turned to exit and disappeared from view. Duncan considered doing exactly that just to spite him, one of his favourite hobbies (spiting his dad, not sleeping; but he does enjoy that too). This idea was tossed as Duncan realized he was completely awake by now so he'd really just be laying in bed, plus he wasn't in the mood to deal with his dad "spazzing out" that morning, so getting dressed it was.

Duncan descended the stairs in his classic punk look; a pair of dark-wash jeans, his favourite skull shirt overtop a longsleeve, some red Converse, and a spiked collar. Additionally, he wore the various facial and ear piercings he'd gotten over the years, Tony foolishly thought it had only been a phase and kept hoping every morning he'd see Duncan emerging from the stairway with his head devoid of metal studs (delusional yes, but the man can dream). He made his way to the kitchen island where Tony was finishing off his coffee. The teen's fashion sense was in stark contrast to his father's more orthodox ensemble. Tony was the chief of the city's police service, so naturally, he had to dress professionally on days when he wasn't wearing his uniform for ceremonial purposes. This was with the exception of his ID and badge, and his issued gun (which Duncan has begged him to let shoot off a few rounds since he could speak).

"Look who finally made it down" Tony exclaimed dryly. "I thought I'd have to get out my taser again, I'm almost disappointed." A sly smirk formed on his face as he took another sip of coffee, his unamused son just sneered in response.

"Ha. Real funny, same as every time you say that shit."

"Hey what'd I say about watching your damn language?! Besides, let me have my fun, I only have a few days left until I can't make that joke anymore."

"Why, are ya dying?"

"Be serious idiot, I mean your graduation. With how you are at school I wasn't sure if it would happen, but despite your best efforts you're gonna be a high school graduate. Speaking of which, I recall that tomorrow's the big dance they're having for all the seniors."

This made Duncan internally wince, of course he had to bring that up now. "Yeah actually, a bomb went off in the gym so the dance was canceled."

Tony raised his eyebrow; "Not too excited, huh?"

Duncan sighed. "I dunno; how could I be when my dad, the city's "King of the Narcs" is going to be there?"

"Oh spare me your theatrics bud, I know you hate the idea of me being there, but it's one of your last big high school events." Tony put his arm over Duncan's shoulder. "I just want to be as much a part of my boy's life as I can before he starts college and officially enters manhood."

Duncan cringed at this statement. He was in the process of figuring out how to break the news to his dad that university wasn't exactly in his plans for the near future, not that he had any concrete plans to begin with at the moment…He looked back at his dad who was now making his back to the island to finish the last of his coffee.

"Plus that kind of environment is rife with underage drinking and sexual encounters that may or may not be legal, who's better presence there to scare them out of it than the Chief Constable." He raised his coffee mug as if to toast and gave his head a slight bow, earning a scoff from his son. "Ugh, whatever" was all Duncan had to retaliate. It's bad enough that the dance was mandatory for all graduating students to attend, but with his dad being there he likely didn't stand a chance of actually enjoying himself by sneaking away to smoke weed with his buddies. A small part of him considered calling in a bomb threat to somewhere just so Tony would have a reason to leave early.

"Okay, real talk here," Tony instructed. Any sense of humour that was present in his demeanour evaporated. "Remember that your mom's coming in today, and whether you're happy to see her or completely bitter 'cause frankly I can't tell the difference with you; regardless, you're going to be nice and you're going to treat your mother with respect. Got it?"

Tony pointed his finger at Duncan as he emphasized that last portion. Add to that his other hand resting on his hip and his stern eyes slightly turned downwards due to their height difference, and it made for an admittedly intimidating effigy that Duncan absolutely detested. He thought by now his dad would ease up on the 'scared straight' routine he used on perps and his own son throughout his childhood in order to display authority. Or at least Duncan hoped he'd be at eye level as he did it. However, the real source of his upset was the mention of his mother's approaching arrival. When Duncan was thirteen his parents had divorced. His mother, Gemma was a forensic psychologist who worked part-time until she was offered a better-paying position across the country. Unfortunately, being that her husband had just experienced his own upgrade to his career and not wanting to uproot her son and take him away from his friends and school, she made the decision to pursue the opportunity by herself. This heavily impacted Duncan, since he was always closer to his mom than his dad, though growing up he somewhat had a good relationship with him, but they grew apart as the years progressed and Duncan morphed more into his punk state. This was especially prevalent after the separation and Duncan rebelled furiously against Tony as a means to cope. When it came down to it, he sincerely loved both of his parents, but he resented them both for their perceived actions in breaking up his family: his mother for abandoning him, and his father for pushing her away. Tony also harboured strong emotions regarding his family situation and Gemma, but unlike Duncan's, his were those of guilt. Whether it was accurate or not, he did feel at fault for his wife leaving; too focused on his career that he couldn't give a second thought to hers…

Duncan pouted, his face did so on reflex whenever his dad was like this starting from the first time he was bad and it became muscle memory.

"Got it." He gritted through his teeth. "So we going or what?"

"Hold on there Ascari*, you haven't eaten anything yet, aren't you hungry?" (*Note: Alberto Ascari was an Italian race car driver; Tony calls him that because he's so fast to get out the door.)

"Nah I'm good, let's just go." He slung his black backpack over his shoulder and started for the door. It was very against Duncan's personality to rush to make it to school on time, but he didn't much care about that he just wanted to get away from the conversation and the feelings that inevitably bubbled up whenever Tony made him talk about his mom. Additionally, the sooner he got to school the sooner he could get something in his stomach. In actuality, he was starving thanks to a genetic growth spurt that affected the men in his family. They always start their senior year of high school 5 foot 8 inches tall and then shot up to 6 feet just in time for graduation. Unfortunately, Duncan's body had been finicky and he was only halfway there, much to his dismay.

The car ride to Duncan's school was rather standard; he'd put his feet up on the dashboard and Tony would reprimand him to put them down (both because it's disrespectful and highly dangerous), only today he was in (mostly) a good mood so he decided not to be as punitive about it this time and instead focus on a more celebratory matter.

"So Mr. Graduate, have you given any thought to what you want for a grad present?" Duncan perked up at this question. There was something he'd wanted to do for a long time, but couldn't do without parenteral consent. Usually this wasn't something that deterred him, but this wasn't the kind of thing that was easy to find a less controlled alternative to. Additionally, he was optimistic in his dad's tone and earlier behaviour that he might just see him as adult enough to make this kind of decision.

"Actually yeah, I have."

"Excellent, let's hear it!"

"Okay so hear me out, I'm getting a tattoo." Tony's face instantly dropped upon hearing this, adopting a scowl. All the piercings his son had he could tolerate, but he drew the line at permanently inking his body with whatever stupid thing his brain could come up with at this age.

"No. Absolutely not. That sewing kit built into your face isn't enough? Now you want to pay some dropout to draw on you with some permanent, toxic fluid!"

"Come on pop, it'll just be one on my arm or something! No big deal!"

"A respectable young man doesn't deface his body like that, especially not with a skull breathing fire or something moronic like that!" The last part pissed Duncan off in particular. Couldn't his dad give him a little credit? He could've said he wanted "to protect and serve" plastered in the tiniest font on the sole of his foot where no one would see, but no, he refuses to listen to anything his son brought up if it didn't fit his mould. His mom would've let him explain before shutting him down.

"Jeez forget I asked then!" He began to trail off. "You're ruining my life…" He crossed his arms and looked out the window, turning his body away from the driver's side. Tony had heard his son utter that phrase a multitude of times before, but this time it sounded more genuine and he couldn't help but feel a tinge of hurt diluting his anger. He focused back on the road. "End of discussion.."

The rest of the car ride was carried out in tense silence, Duncan couldn't be more grateful by the time Tony pulled the car over outside Western Canada High to let him out. He was almost home free until his dad noticed his ex-friend Alejandro and waved him over to say hi before Duncan could escape the vehicle. Now he was just pinned between with no choice but to greet him back, even if it was just by a subtle nod of the head in that "sup" motion, the classic way young males tend to recognize each other. Alejandro did so back and slightly smiled, only Duncan could tell from his eyes that it was only a formality and there was nothing but contempt held for him. They may have started high school as friends, but things happen and they're ending it as enemies.

After the Spaniard was far enough away, Duncan got out of the car and made his way across the courtyard. "Now the real torture for the day begins," he thought.