One Day Before Reunion.
Walking to an open double door, a short stocky man comes to a stop followed by a boy, just an inch taller than him as they exit a state of the art training room.
The older man attempts to say something, stopping momentarily when seeing the boys face, "Cheer up, kid. You should be happy, you're making this whole goodbye feel like a funeral." Gus, forcing a chuckle to follow his words.
The two stand in silence for a moment.
"What's wrong?" His voice making his concern more obvious.
"...I'm scared." The young man struggles to get the words out, hanging his head in shame.
"About?" Gus asks earnestly to no reply, "We're never going to see each other again after today, Mark." His voice gaining a sense of seriousness.
Mark brings his head up, but he keeps his eyes closed as his face writhes in conflict.
"I don't want to go." The words coming out as a whisper.
"And you don't want to stay either, trust me." The stern edge giving way, returning a faint kindness to his voice.
"Things are good here now, cant i just stay?" Desperation clear in his plea.
"No, you cant. Its not as bad as it was but that doesn't make it good, Mark. You dont even know what good is." Gus lays a comforting hand on his shoulder, "You have a family, parents waiting for you to come home, a br--"
"I don't remember them! I cant remember anything.." Marks panic spiking but suddenly trailing off.
"All the more reason to get the hell out of here then, right?" Gus, laughing to himself, "Nobody should ever be unable to experience the real world, experience good. Even those other little shits."
Mark and Gus both share a light chuckle, Marks sounding more performative than anything.
The two begin to walk through plain, metallic corridors for what feels like far too long, Gus clearly having something to say while Mark still wears his best unsure expression.
"I haven't seen my daughters in two years. When i imagine any longer it makes me sick." Gus, continues walking as he speaks.
"You don't like all that mushy stuff, I get that, but when you see your parents again let them hold you. If for no-one else do it for me, ok? I guarantee you its the only thing they've wanted since you left." Gus cant look up from the floor, embarrassment making it almost impossible.
"Alright." Mark responds, the two never stopping walking, "Your kids have got to be old too, right? Are you a grandpa? A great grandpa? I never really thought about it but you're really old."
"No and no. And this old man can kick your ass up and down this corridor if you'd like." Gus, only just managing to sound serious.
"Congrats, want a medal?" Mark asks playfully.
"Sure. You got one?" Gus, now proudly wearing a grin.
Day Of Reunion
Even from outside the training room, Mark feels the rumbling at his feet and the thunderous music as he watches, making sure to soak in everything he was seeing.
Suddenly, a hand pulls him out of his trance like state, "Last chance to say your goodbyes, Boss sent me." Sean, another boy around Marks age.
Turning his head towards him, Mark catches a glimpse of both Patricia and Anne, "And them?"
"Hitchhikers, picked 'em up on the way. Wanted to say their goodbye I guess."
A crashing sound, climbing above the music, grabs Marks attention.
"Mark, its really not good for you to keep him waiting." Sean, concern becoming prevalent in his voice.
"I know.. Bye, Sean. Tell him too." Looking towards the room failing to contain the mayhem.
"Sure. Sure. Bye." Sean, annoyed at Marks request.
Walking away, Mark waves goodbye half-heartedly, it only being responded to by Anne who smiles gravely. Peeling away from the walls, three automatons follow behind Mark.
"Should've happened a while back." Patricia says, indifferently.
"He's one of us, Patricia." Sean, walking towards the pair.
"Hardly, spent ninety nine percent of his time here a Hollow Core. And when he did finally awaken he wasted his time training hand to hand with the old guy."
"If he'd just awakened a physical ability he would've stayed."
Anne, the second girl, watches the two as they talk.
"We should be happy," Patricia looks towards her questionably and Sean follows suit, "At least he gets to go home, right?"
After an awkward second of silence, Sean answers, "Yeah, we should be."
Turning the last corner, Mark comes face to face with the dreaded heavy, wooden double door. Thicker than his head and not only infused with strands to make it a Awakeners Appliance but also infused with Bloodlusted strands.
Shrinking into himself as he approaches the door, Mark is momentarily saved by a grotesque, mechanical voice calling out from behind him, "Standby momentarily."
Outside the door, Mark is privy to a muffled argument emanating from the other side.
"just.. more time... waste.. the key.."
"This isn't worth this disgusting feeling." Mark thinks to himself as he takes a step back for the remainder of the wait.
The door creeks open and the shape of a man appears in the doorway.
A rotten look on his face, clearly Samuel hadn't gotten what he was hoping for. Stepping out of the room, the door being held open by yet another automaton, he comes face to face with Mark.
"I cant stop it now, goodbyes are in order." Samuel, frustratedly.
Mark doesn't respond, only looking at him with contempt.
"Yeah I feel the same, ya little.." He stops himself, "I met your dad he seems like he cares, don't be a stranger," Samuel begins making his way back down the corridor, "Goodbye, my little Sprauge Dawley." Samuels laugh echoes up and down the corridor, fading as he turns the corner.
Mark looks towards the automaton holding the door open and hesitates, his feet glued to the ground.
"Proceed." The automaton that once aided him now turning against him.
Another moment of hesitation passes as Mark attempts to build his courage until a hard shove in the back interrupts, pushing him into the doorway.
Now looking into the room, he quickly steps inside.
Behind a desk sits a hulking middle aged man, his face weathered and scarred and his presence itself striking fear in Marks entire being despite the many times the two have met.
He waves away the man to his side holding papers and leans forward, interlocking his fingers and resting them on his desk.
Mark watches as the slimy looking man steps back, the two share a look before Boss clears his throat, demanding both of their attention.
"You're leaving today, son." His voice gravelly, almost damaged sounding.
Mark nods obediently.
"Then make sure we never see each other again, understand?"
Mark begins to nod again until an incredible pressure suddenly descends onto his entire body, forcing him to his knees, as if a blanket the weight of an anvil smothered a normal human.
"Understand?"
"Yes, Sir!.." Mark frantically answers as he holds himself up from the floor with his hands and knees.
The pressure holds for a few seconds longer before it dissipates entirely, leaving nothing but Mark panting desperately.
The two men watch as Mark gathers his bearings, picking himself back up to his feet.
As if he were proud, Boss nods lightly, "You can leave now, son."
"Thank you, Sir."
Pressing the metallic head down against the ground with all of his might, it finally gives way, caving in around his hand.
"How was that?" Axl, only a few years older than Mark, calls out as he knocks the other tattered remains out of his path, stepping forward.
"You could've been faster with the shifting." A voice answering over the speakers that was previously playing his music.
He laughs to himself, shaking his head as he turns his back to where he was just facing, "You try doing it then asshole."
Axl cracks his neck and hops up and down, readying himself to go again.
"Oh and Sean's just told me to tell you goodbye for some reason."
Axl pauses for a moment, "Are we going again or what?" His demeanour and voice doing a shift of its own, showing off his irritation.
"C'mon, how much longer? He's been travelling for hours and his parents are here." One doctor asks another impatiently.
"There." Pulling the needle out of his arm.
"They're here?" Mark asks anxiously.
"Yeah, kid. I'll take you to 'em."
Trailing the unfamiliar doctor, Mark focuses solely on his rampaging heart until, unbeknownst to himself, he stands across the room from his mother and father.
Standing still, realization hits him and he looks around, finding the only couple sat in the waiting area.
He glares at the two, waiting for something to hit him but nothing.
"Strangers." The sole thought running through his head as it slightly falls.
Suddenly a force nearly knocks him off his feet, silently blanketing him.
Mark stands allowing himself to be held, confused a flurry of emotions abruptly hitting him all at once along with a memory of a feeling he had lost, safety.
Slowly pulling his hands up, he hugs her back, "Mom?" His voice unsteady.
"Oh my God," Her voice giving away the fact she's crying, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." She says repeatedly through her cries.
Sitting in an uneasy silence, the father and son wait for her return.
"Oh, something actually came with your name on it yesterday. Wanna open it?" Asking as he's already up and moving.
Alone now, Mark scopes out the plain, undecorated living room; being caught in the act as he does by his father entering with a cardboard box of middling size.
Setting the box down on the coffee table he speaks, "Your mother got sick a little after we moved here. We've been meaning to make it more like home but its like one thing after another."
"Is she ok?" Mark asks, one eye on the box staring up at him.
"..Yeah. She's fine." Hesitance obvious before his lie, "C'mon I cant wait any longer." His eyes pointing at the box.
Easily peeling the tape from the box and opening it up, there's nothing but some miscellaneous trinkets and a small stack of comic books.
"Are those the books me and your mother sent you?" His father, sitting down next to him and pulling the books out.
"I don't know they were just given to me one day." Mark, taking the one from the top as his father lays them down on the coffee table and flicking through it, stopping as it reaches the end when he notices something new written in bad handwriting.
Goodbye - From Axl.
"Who's Axl?" His father asks as he looms over Mark to get a look.
"I don't know if I can say but.. he was like a big brother to me." Mark says, clueless as to how his father may respond, he watches him closely.
"Is. He is like a brother to you. He was there for you when we couldn't be and for that he is your brother as far as I'm concerned." Ruffling Marks hair as he continues, "Is he a good big brother?"
"I don't know." Moving away from the hand on his head, "He always protected me though."
"That's good. That's the kind of big brother Scott needs, everyone could do with a brother like that right?" Emotions getting the better of him for a second he stands.
Mark, confused turns his attention back to the comics, placing the one in his hands back on top and pulling out another to the same result as last time, a faint smile creeping onto his face as he reads a different message on the inside.
"Its warm, want to take that jacket off?" His father asks sitting back down beside him, Mark placing the comic back nods silently.
Casually taking the jacket off and placing it beside him on the couch, Mark leans forward to continue looking through the box only to be stopped by his father.
"What's this?" He asks, his voice portraying his heart break.
"What?" Mark asks.
Gently the father takes Marks forearm and runs his thumb on the largest of the scars.
"Oh. That's nothing." Mark pulling his arm away almost instantly.
"You cant let your mother see these kinds of things, you cant let anyone see it, ok?"
"I was taught they aren't anything to be embarrassed of.. that they're proof you're alive.. and an opportunity to grow."
"Mark listen to me. Make sure your mother never finds out."
The two stare at one another before Mark gives in, "Okay."
The father stands, pacing frantically mumbling to himself, "Your mother was supposed to take you clothes shopping tomorrow but ill have to move shifts around to do it myself. Long sleeves and jackets are going to have to be your style. She cant find out, it'll eat her alive.."
Listening, Mark curls up into himself, a burning sense of shame in his chest as he runs his finger across the jagged indent on his forearm. "Why? Is it ugly? What would he say about the rest of them? This is why they said not to be embarrassed, right? Because its ugly." His thoughts running rampant.
Retrieving his jacket he slowly puts it back on, this time zipping it up fully, just in time for the door to open, a happy voice calling out for them.
The father panics for a moment as he turns to Mark, but the panic fades as quickly as it appeared when he sees him already in the jacket.
Making their way into the living room, Mark stands.
"Scott this is Mark, your big brother." Their mother says, nudging Scott in front of her.
Scott stares up, perplexed and Mark looks down awkwardly.
"I cant believe my boys are finally meeting." Their mother, stretching out to hug them both.
Mark pulls away before she can bring hug them both.
Scott noticing shoots off a mean scowl aimed right at Mark.
In an aged, tattered principals office the couple patiently sit breathing in the smell of old books as, yet again, they await the head masters verdict.
"Third strike, my hands are tied. Marks expelled." The obviously well-fed head master, putting his foot down.
The two parents silently soak it in for a moment.
The father attempts to speak but he cant find any words.
"I'm real sorry, the school board is real strict on violence and he was already hanging on by a thread because of last time."
"We know, its not your fault." The couple stand and the head master does the same, the mother already half way to the door as the two men shake hands.
Stepping out of the office, the mother places a hand on Marks head, who's sat on one of three chairs forming a line outside the door.
"I'm sorry. I'll do better at the next school." Mark says, looking up towards his mother.
"You don't have to worry about that, that's our job ok?" Planting her hand on his head, which he accepts.
Lightly, Mark nods his head in response.
"Lets get you home then."
Mark hops down the stairs, stopping at the bottom to check his phone for a moment.
"Where are you going?" His father asks stepping into the doorway of the closest door in the hallway, "Your mothers making dinner."
"Out." Mark responds stepping into the hallway and in front of the front door.
"With? You got yourself a girlfriend?" His dad asks trying not to smile.
"What? No just some friends."
His father nods proudly, "Alright , check the microwave when you get back."
Mark opens and closes the door, the noise bringing his mother out of the kitchen and face to face with her husband.
"Mark just went out to meet some friends."
The two share a dubious look, "Just some friends." The father states again.
Her expression gives way to a light hearted smile, "Its about time he settled back in to a normal life."
"Overdue if anything."