Welcome to Gaia! ::

The door shuddered against the hit it took, standing firm the first round--then falling in the second. Two dangerous looking male reapers stood ready inside, their weapons drawn--and stopped as they saw who it was.

“You’re paying for that,” Austin told his son, dissipating his weapon and pulling out a pack of cighoulettes. He tapped one out into his hand, slipping it between his fingers and lighting it.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” Roch demanded, his weapon still up and ready. “Why didn’t you TELL ME?”

“Well I tried calling, but you didn’t answer,” Austin said a bit blankly. “She’s over there, by the way,” he said, motioning to the bike in the side of the room. Behind him Monica was trying to hide the evidence of some sort of planning. Roch didn’t know what, nor did he care.

“This isn’t about the bike,” he said. “This is about TEX. Tex, Dad, the uncle you never told me about? The uncle that DIED before I was born? Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

The room went silent. Both older scythe males looked a bit pale. “Well... um...” Austin said slowly. “Roch...”

“He was big and blonde and he sucked as a fighter, but he had a guitar for a weapon and he should have been HERE. He should have been my teacher! Jackdammit, why didn’t you tell me--“ A tear escaped him, which he wiped away angrily with his forearm. “He should have been my teacher, not Bones.” He felt like a child. Here he was a hob in Amity, big and badass, topping six feet tall, and he was crying like a little boil over something he didn’t have, but wanted.

And when Austin stepped forward, pulling him into his arms he almost gave in. Angrily he jerked away, staring coldly at the man that had lied by omission to him all his life. “I can’t trust you anymore,” he told him. “I can’t trust either of you. And I’m takin’ my jackin’ bike,” he said darkly, heading for the bike in question, pulling on his helmet and driving over the remains of the door he’d just destroyed.

For a long moment there was silence in the room. Monica looked confused, but the two males looked at each other for a long moment, Austin taking a drag off of his smoke. He dropped it on the concrete floor and stepped on it, grinding it into the ground before heading off to get his bike. He had an idea of where the boil was going, but it was better safe than sorry.

“Vegas?” Monica asked quietly. “Why was Rochy crying?”

“Because he just found out what he’s been missing all along, darklin,” Vegas said with a sigh. For the first time since she’d met him, he actually looked like an old man. “We’ll be back,” he said, straightening again and heading for the door. “Don’t worry. This is just... something he needs to learn.”

He couldn’t even close the door behind him. Monica was left there, her hands full of little invitations for Roch’s second birthday and the urge to cry. So she did.
*****

The bike was propped up in the middle of the desert. Sitting beside it, silently, was a purple haired punk. He stared out at the empty land, feeling numb. What he had seen through Tex’s eyes--what he’d heard, what he’d felt, all of them were so clear in his mind that he was reliving them even as he stood there. The whole DETH thing, he hadn’t liked it one bit, but it’d been Tex’s choice. He’d wanted to find another way, to work peacefully with humans, and what had it gotten him?

He hadn’t seen Tex’s face, except reflections in things. But he hadn’t really needed to. The face had been familiar to be in, almost like his own. The body had been larger, but it had moved the same way, the same walk that he had learned from his father a long time ago. He had watched that walk as a child, imitating it unconsciously, the long legged walk, the way he led with his shoulders--

Roch pulled away from that thought, trying to clear his mind. He had lost a lot in the past three years. He’d lost his freedom one time, he’d lost his friends, he’d lost his first love, but this... this was so much more. “He shoulda been mine,” he said, voicing his feelings out, finally. He should have married his strange little hippy ghoulfriend and had a ton of big blond reaper boils for Roch to grow up following around. He should have been there for his birthdays, for his first weapon summoning--all of those things. But he hadn’t.

The sound of a bike barely sank into his mind. They’d found him. One of them had, at least. He didn’t want to talk--but at the same time he did. So he argued with himself, unable to move even as he heard the sound of boots crunching on the ground, clearly telling him that someone was heading for him.

Austin crouched down next to him, staring out at the desert for a long moment as well. “You... you’ve always reminded me of him,” he started out slowly. “I’m not sure how you found out about him--maybe one of his old pals mentioned it or something, it doesn’t matter. You should have found out about him from me. I screwed up again, huh?”

The older reaper sat down, stretching his legs out in front of him, then bending one so it stood in front of him. He leaned back on his hands, still not looking at his son. “Tex... Tex drove me crazy when I was a kid. He was always so jackin’ perfect. Always made good grades, always knew the right things to say, always kept his cool. Well, at least he kept it a lot better than I did back then. I hated the fact that his weapon was so much cooler than mine was,” he said. “Still do. His guitar was awesome, and he was so jackin’ good at it--here I was squeaking and honking like a dyin’ carry on and he would do this perfect melody with only a glance at the paper--“

Austin stopped, shaking his head slightly, a little smile on his face. “Man did I love that guy,” he said with a laugh. “I still do. Not a day goes by without me thinking of him. And when I look at you, especially with that guitar of yours--“ He sighed, glancing at Roch. “I won’t lie. It was hard. Especially before you colored your hair that ridiculously retarded color--“

“I like my hair.”

“And shaved the sides. What the jack kind of haircut is that, anyway?”

“It’s a mohawk. Shuddup about my hair already,” Roch said, not looking at his dad.

“Tex would never have dreamed of doing something like that,” Austin said, looking forward again. “I’ve had twenty years to mourn, you know? When you were a kid, it was hard to talk about it, but now... I just guess I never thought you needed that burden. Don’t try living up to Tex, Roch, or down. That whole DETH thing he was into, still don’t get that, I’ll be honest. Personally I think it was because he had the hots for one of their members. He had strange tastes in females too, by the way--“

“Shuddup about the ghouls, too,” Roch muttered, flushing.

“What I’m trying to say,” Austin said, “is that even though you know there was an uncle with a guitar in your past, you are not him. You’re you.” He looked at him. “When we lost him... they gave us some line about reapers underground, dirty business going on, all sorts of things that made no sense--when we lost him, I swore that that sort of thing would never happen again. Not in my family.”

“Then why did you go to Amity? Why am I going?” Roch asked.

“I went to try and find out what really happened. I never did. You went because you jackin’ well went behind my back and filled out a form,” Austin said. “But twenty years had passed and nothing happened... so...” He sighed. “The option to switch to another school is still there, you know?”

“No,” Roch said. “I’m almost done.”

“So was he,” Austin said quietly.

“I just--it’s just--it ain’t fair,” Roch said. “It just ain’t fair! Why did that have to happen to him? He should have been mine!”

“He wasn’t a puppy,” Austin said.

“You know what I mean. And I still hate you for not telling me,” he added darkly. “You and Gramps. You’re both guilty.”

“Yeah, I know,” Austin said quietly, getting to his feet. “Come back when you feel like it. Monica is going to worry, so you might call her, too.” Then, without expecting Roch to reply, he walked away.
***************
((WC: 1,511))

He’d killed a cactus. It was unjustifiable homicide. In fact, he even felt a little guilty for it, Roch thought as he sat down next to the fireplace his dad had made. But the jacker had gotten him a few times in return, those spiny parts flying at his face had done a bit of damage to his FEAR shield-- Well, either way, he’d killed a cactus.

Now he was just tired and sad. The anger had faded, somewhat. It was now a low simmer in the back of his mind. The problem with Austin and Vegas, he had realized, was that they sucked even more than he did at dealing with emotional things. In fact the two were lounging around the fire, drinking beer. It looked like a jackin’ campout, he thought with disgust. Here he was, going through a tragic moment in his life, and they were giving each other crap!

“So, when are you gonna start wearing cowboil boots?” Austin asked Roch, as if this was the most interesting topic he’d ran into in years.

“...Whut?”

“You’re going country, aren’t you?” Vegas prompted. “The hair’s going to have to go--“

“Why the jack would I go country?” Roch asked him, a bit darkly. “I’m not joining DETH, either, before either of you ask. Or any of those factions. Not even that SEEDS thing,” he decided. “I... hell, I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he said quietly. He turned away from the fire, not wanting to be night blind. “I’ve not lost anyone permanently except Mom,” he admitted. “And Riley.”

“Riley?” Austin asked.

“It... Hell, I don’t know what happened there,” Roch admitted. “I don’t know half the things I probably should. And the other half I probably shouldn’t,” he drawled, falling onto his back and resting his head on his hands as he stared up at the moon. “Tell me about him,” he said after a long moment of silence. “Stories. What was he like?”

The two were silent, and for a moment he was certain they would press the point. Then Austin let out a little laugh. “Tex had this dog,” he said slowly. “Ugliest thing you ever saw, it had no neck, just these huge shoulders and a massive chest. And it had horns. They curled up over its head, sort of like a demon’s. It slobbered over everything. You’d expect something that ugly to be mean, right? Well this thing had no brains, but it was the sweetest idiot you ever met--“

“Damn thing kept takin’ dumps on my favorite boots,” Vegas complained. “He never did tell me what it came from. Kid knew I’d toss the things down a cliff and not look back.”

“I loved that dog,” Austin said, grinning. “So easy to train.”

“I shoulda known,” Vegas drawled. “But Tex loved that dog, too. Kept him with him all the jackin’ time when he was a kid. You’d always know they were coming because of the sound of drool dripping. There’d be this drip noise, and bang, the dog was trying to crawl into your lap and give you mouth to mouth.”

“Tex thought it was hysterical,” Austin said. Then he frowned slightly. “Y’know... I’m thinking we have some of his things back at the old house,” he said to Vegas. “Did that thing ever sell?”

“Nah, we’ve got a few ghosts renting the place, but for chump change,” Vegas said. “Good thing is you don’t really have to worry about upkeep with them. They like the haunted, falling down sort of thing.”

“So in the morning let’s go through his stuff,” Austin said. “No point in letting it just fall apart any longer.”

“Well, if you want to,” Vegas said. “What about you, kid? What do you want to do?”

“I have a week,” Roch said quietly. “It’s not long enough, but I gotta be back to school before the prom. It’ll probably be my last one.”

“Then get some sleep. We’ve got a bit of a drive in the morning,” Austin said, grabbing a blanket from behind him and tossing it at Roch. “You told all your ghouls you were gonna be gone for a while?” he asked. “Don’t want them freakin’ out on you.”

“Amphi,” Roch said quietly.

“Who?” Austin asked.

“Little mermaid ghoul that’s following him around,” Vegas explained. “She wants to be ‘friends.’”

Austin raised an eyebrow. “Is that soooo,” he drawled, an evil grin pulling at his lips.

“Shuddup about the ghouls,” Roch growled.

“You should see this one,” Vegas said. “Big blue eyes, beautiful figure, brain full of bubbles and sunshine,” he drawled. “And not much else.”

“Gramps, I swear I’m gonna help Dad kill you,” Roch snapped. Although, honestly, he’d had thoughts along those same lines many a time before.

“Then again, his best friend is pretty much the same thing,” Vegas said thoughtfully. “Knock on that ghoul’s head and you’d get an echo.”

“Don’t talk about my friends that way,” Roch said. “Or are you forgetting that I’m seriously pissed at you right now?”

“Want me to slash his tires?” Austin offered, lying down as well without bothering with a blanket. “Won’t take long.”

“Tempting,” Roch said.

“Jackdamn, you’re making him as mean as you,” Vegas complained.

“Maybe in the morning,” Roch decided, yawning. “I’ll call Danny and Amrita then, too.”
**************
((WC: 894))

“So if we’re renting this place out, why do we have to break in?” Roch asked in a whisper. They were on top of the building, prying at the roof that had fallen in.

“Because this is where we left our stuff,” Vegas said. “No point in buggin the tenants about it, and honestly, you of all people shouldn’t have a problem with this part of the job.”

“I don’t, usually, but this jackin’ roof is going to fall in annnny--“

And the roof fell in, sending all three of the Scythe males dropped through the roof, slamming into the floor below. “Jackin--“ Austin grunted. “Why we dragged your lardass all the way onto the roof--“ he snarled at Vegas.

“We got in, didn’t we? Boil, if you don’t get your elbow out of my crotch I swear, grandson or not I’m gonna rip your arm off,” Vegas wheezed. Roch jerked away, quickly. He was attached to that arm. He was kind of astonished the old man could still talk comprehensively after getting elbowed there--Roch should know.

“Nice one, Roch,” Austin said, now grinning as he climbed off the rubble. He started shoving it aside, digging for something that apparently he already knew was there. After a second of watching blankly, Roch climbed down from the fallen debris and started helping. Soon they had unearthed a large wooden chest. It was locked, in fact, it looked like several people had tried to pick or break the locks, and failed. “The old man’s work,” Austin said. “Although I don’t remember you doing it,” he added, looking over at Vegas, who was still sitting in the rubble.

“Grab it,” Vegas said quietly. “Let’s get it out of here.”

“But we can’t take it on our bikes--“

“I’ll ship it by train,” Vegas said. “There’s a station not far from here, we can carry it if we need to. Or better yet, I’ll call in a favor.”

“Do we just head through the house after breakin in like that?” Roch asked.

“Yeah, we do,” Vegas said, standing. “If they don’t like it, we’ll just blow the damn place up and collect on the insurance.” He looked at the trunk, then grabbed one of the handles. “Let’s go.”

Before Roch could get the other one, Austin had it, lifting it high over their heads as they headed through the house--much to the protests of several ghosts, and out the door. Once they had reached the woods outside the house, Vegas pulled out a phone, placing a call. “Yeah. The old Scythe place, Scythe Road--no, just Scythe Road. There aren’t any other houses on the street. Yeah, okay.” Then he hung up.

Austin and Roch were crouched in front of the trunk, examining the locks curiously. “Don’t go bustin’ into it just yet,” Vegas warned them. “We want to get it back home, first. Less people lookin’ in it, the less likely we’ll have to hunt things down.”

They sat there, just staring at the trunk, until a rickety looking truck driven by skeletons pulled to a stop by them. They carried off the trunk, leaving the three Scythe males looking at one another. Vegas was the first to react. “Time to go home, boils.”

The drive home was silent. They rode in single file through the reaper town, getting several strange, often dirty looks for riding such noisy machines. And they headed back for Halloween Town.
------

Casino Royale was empty. “Monica?” Monica, darklin, you home?” Vegas yelled as he stepped into the building. After a moment of no reply, he shrugged, turning to watch as the delivery boils brought in the trunk. “Place it on the stage, boils,” he ordered. “Tell your boss his tab is cleared.” They nodded and headed out, leaving only the three and the trunk in the casino. Vegas stepped forward, crouching down a bit slowly in front of it and touching each of the locks twice. They popped open and he lifted the lid.

Roch stepped forward, looking inside. One side of the trunk was full of clothes, a leather hat on top. The other side was full of books--and a hand carved box on top. It was about an inch thick and no larger than his hand. He reached out, taking the box and running a hand over the picture that had been carved on it. It was of a guitar. The work was rough, but he rather liked it. For a moment he stared at it, then he opened the latch, looking inside.

“Guitar picks,” he said, pulling one out. “Good ones, too.”

“Neither of us has any use for those,” Austin said, coming to Roch’s side. “I think we should let you have it.”

“But--“

“Take it, boil,” Vegas agreed. “No point in leaving them hidden away in a box when they could be used to make somethin’ to better the world.”

“This, too,” Austin said with a little grin, picking up the hat and plopping it on Roch’s head. “Since you’re going country.”

“I’m not going country,” Roch told him. But he kept the hat. “I ah... do want something, though,” he said quietly. “I ain’t got the cash for it, I already know... but could one of you help me with something?”

“What’s that?” Vegas asked.

“A white suit for prom.”
**********
((WC: 897)) FIN (for now)