24/11 U/D: Shadows Creed - Rated R - Part Fifty-Three

Clare, I may one day find it in my heart to forgive you for calling Johnny an irritating little shit...one day

I was waiting for either you or titch to see that, but in my defence...HE IS!

@Ciara Yes, Johnny is a little shit . But, yeah...he was very down. And thank you for that , I actually wondered if that line worked.

@Aightball How old is your niece? She's the one who calls Jimmy Uncle, right? .

@andigo Shads called him a little shit first .

Thanks you guys .


~~~~~~

~8~
Troubling moments

“Fuck, bro. Leave your shit everywhere, why don’t you?”

Zacky frowned at the pile of oil rags sitting on the side bench along the left-hand wall of the shop. His brother had obviously left them there when he headed out to lunch. Rubbing at his forehead, he sighed heavily as he went about tidying them away.

His mind was wandering as he shook them out, and folded them before putting them back in the cupboard beneath the main counter. The other Matthew in his life was ever in his thoughts. He couldn’t believe he’d actually managed to call Shads out for his work at the Creed. It was something that was always niggling at the back of his mind, but never had Zacky actually dared to voice his opinion. It was a sensitive topic and one the guys usually avoided unless it directly affected them, as it had six years ago...

Zacky kicked the door shut, straightening with a grunt. He really needed to exercise more, but with all the jobs he’d been getting lately, and the stress, he hadn’t been to the gym in forever. Of course, that really wasn’t a reason to skip the gym. He’d read somewhere that working out was actually good for relieving stress, so he didn’t have any room to complain. Yet, time was an issue.

He still managed to make time for his friends, though.

Unlike Matthew.

Not wanting to follow that line of thought, Zacky shook himself, walking back over to the Mayor’s Bentley. He frowned at the vehicle, rubbing at his chin. The Honourable Mr Elliott Johnston had called in to say that he couldn’t come and check on progress because of more important appointments. Which in all honesty was absolutely fine with Zacky. He hadn’t gotten headway with the repairs, especially since parts were hard to come by. He’d had to order some in from Canada and they would probably take a week to arrive.

The steel grey car looked pathetic hoisted up in the air, barely a shell of its former glory. He stared up at it, his green eyes narrowed critically on the undercarriage.

“Hey, can you spare a moment, buddy?”

He started, hearing the familiar raspy voice, coming from the entrance of the shop. Turning his head he recognised Matthew’s big frame propped up against the side wall. He could hear the faint growl of a running engine coming from outside.

“Matt? What’re you doing here?” Zacky cocked his head to one side noting that his friend seemed really tight, on edge.

Matthew’s brow furrowed above his Aviators and he started rubbing at the back of his neck, his gaze darting back toward whatever vehicle was outside.

“I just need to borrow that tent you bought last summer. I called your brother. He said you keep it here.”

Zacky frowned, curiosity evident in his eyes. “Why do you need it?”

Matt glanced at his friend, still scowling. “I’ve just come from the Astor.”

“That doesn’t explain why you need my tent.”

“I have to accommodate a guest...but I don’t think Val would appreciate having him in the house,” he answered in a strained voice.

“A guest? You never mentioned you were going to have any visitors...” Zacky leaned back against the metal beam that was supporting the main body of the car. He wracked his memory trying to figure out if that were indeed the case.

Matt snorted. “Well, he’s not really a guest. He’s an inmate from the Astor...you might know him.” The edge in his voice got sharper.

Zacky’s expression was one of confusion, but before he could ask anything, a voice that he recognised instantly, even though it had been such a long time, could be heard yelling from the vehicle outside.

“Oi, Shadows! You gonna just fucking leave me here all day, or what!”

“Holy shit.” Zacky was shocked. “You’ve got Johnny with you?”

Matt’s expression became even darker, if that were at all possible. He didn’t bother acknowledging the question. It was damned obvious, the answer. Zacky stared at him, unblinkingly then groaned as if he’d been hit.

“Holy shitballs...why?”

That Matthew decided to respond to. “He’s out of his mind. Eski thought it’d do some good to get him out of prison for awhile.”

Zacky scrunched up his face. “His term’s not done is it?”

Matt laughed harshly, “He’s not fifty, yet.”

“Shit,” Zacky repeated. He raked his fingers through his hair, absently making the spiky bits at the front stick out. “How’s this going to work out, anyway?”

“No fucking clue,” Matthew said, “but, I guess anywhere will be better for him, than the Astor. At least for now.”

He went silent after that, prowling across the shop toward the door marked ‘staff only’. Zacky watched him, not bothering to ask where he was going. Matt had been to the auto-shop enough to know where everything was. He disappeared through the door leaving Zacky to wait.

The sound of cursing started up almost straight away; obviously Matt was having a hard time finding what he was looking for. But, then Zacky had a difficult time himself and he was the one who had put the tent in there. He stayed put, though. He knew from experience that Matthew hated when other people tried to assist him in anything.

After what felt like another hour of swearing and banging issuing from the back room -- it was really only ten minutes -- the door opened and Matthew came out backwards, dragging the rolled up tent out in front of him. It looked a little tattered, but they probably wouldn’t be able to see the extent of its tattiness until it was set up. With hardly any effort, Matt slung the weight of it across his shoulders and made his way back out of the shop.

Zacky rolled his eyes, following him out. “You’re welcome, Matt.”

Matthew glanced back at him, the corners of his mouth turning up in a genuine smile. “Thanks, Zack.”

Then he turned to the large black SUV that was parked in the driveway, opening the trunk and sliding the tent into the back. Zacky noted the golden insignia painted on the rear passenger door. A scroll with a shepherd’s crook was the emblem of The Creed and anyone who had a half a brain recognised it. The symbol was practically everywhere one looked. Matt had obviously borrowed the vehicle, because all he owned was his Harley and a couple of damaged bicycles.

Zacky observed his friend quietly not really sure whether there was anything he could say to him. He still wasn’t happy that Matt had agreed to go back to work, even though he had said he was going to spend more time with Valary, and with the guys. Actually he was still pretty pissed about that. But he decided he’d let Matt see that enough already, and at any rate, silence sometimes spoke louder than words.

Matthew finished shoving the tent into the back and shut the trunk, turning back to look at Zacky.

“You coming back to Bri’s later?”

“Probably. You?”

Matt looked to the front passenger side of the SUV. Zacky followed his gaze, recognising the silhouette of the younger man sitting there. Johnny was leaning up against the door, face blank, eyes covered by a pair of dark shades. His arms were folded tight over his chest in a defensive posture, shutting him off from the rest of the world.

“We’ll see,” Matthew murmured. “Depends on Johnny.”

Zacky grimaced; his friend read the expression on his face correctly, because he added in a soft voice, “I’ll call Val on my way, ‘kay?”

There was a heartbeat of silence then Zacky said, tersely, “Call her now.”

Matthew’s expression froze. “What? Jeeze, thanks for the vote of confidence, Zacky.”

“Welcome. Call her.”

Zacky wasn’t going to budge on this. Brian had called him earlier just to chat and had mentioned that Val had been unusually quiet since Matt had left. That bothered the younger man quite a lot. He didn’t like it when any of his friends were out of sorts. He glowered at Matt.

“Fine.”

Matthew relented, pulling his cell phone from his back pocket. He walked up the driveway, away from his friend so he could make the call without any interruption.

Zacky observed him in silence, noting absently that Johnny had turned his head, also watching the big man as he spoke on the phone.

The conversation was obviously short and to the point because it wasn’t long before Matthew strode back up to the SUV, shoving the cell back into his pocket.

“Right. I’m off.”

“What’d she say?” Zacky asked worry evident in his tone and not wanting to let his friend leave until he at least told him what was said.

Matthew scowled at him but answered, in a low voice, “She’ll wait for me.”

“Did you tell her about Johnny?”

“No.”

Zacky sighed, “You’re an idiot.”

Matthew gave a nonchalant shrug as he turned to get in the car. Zacky gave a tight shake of his head his expression one of disapproval as his friend backed out the driveway.

* * * * *

Brian curled his fingers around his pen, chewing on the end of it, a frown playing across his face. Jimmy sat opposite him, rocking on his chair, the soft creaking noise almost hypnotic. The two of them had been sitting there for the past hour, both of them watching the third occupant of the room.

Valary was standing in the kitchen, glowering at a recipe in one of the many cookbooks her twin had inherited from their mom when she had moved out of home. She had announced earlier that she would cook dinner for them all. There had been a hint of hope in her voice suggesting that the ‘all’ would include her husband.

Brian was a little sceptical about whether Matthew would actually show, but then he was probably feeling that because of the negativity that Zack had passed onto him when he’d called him earlier. That man was capable of making the brightest person depressed, except for maybe Jimmy. Nothing could depress James Sullivan.

“What’re you writing?”

Brian snapped out of the stupor he’d gone into, glancing up at the tall male. “Huh?”

Jimmy pointed at the pad that he was doodling on. “Anything new?”

“Trying. It’s all shit, though.” Brian pushed the notepad away from him.

“Oh, come on. I’ve read some of your stuff. It’s better than anything I could write.” Jimmy grinned at his friend. Brian rolled his eyes before looking over toward Val.

“Do you think Matt will show?” he murmured.

Jimmy followed his friend’s gaze, giving a slight shake of his head. “No idea. I hope so. Val needs him to be here.”

“True.” Brian stretched his arms out and rolled his head slowly, letting out a loud yawn. “Damn, I’m tired.”

Jimmy laughed, “You haven’t even done anything.”

“True again,” Brian smirked, unable to resist the mood his friend was obviously trying to create. “But, we could do something fun.”

“Like what?”

“Well, I bought something that might interest you.”

“Don’t tell me,” Jimmy pretended to groan, “Not your dad’s latest studio mix? I mean, no offence to Papa Gates, but it’s so...mundane.”

Brian looked suitably offended by his friend’s statement. “Come off it, it’s good shit.”

“Humph, if you’re into political crap,” Jimmy scoffed.

“Just because the Mayor endorses him-”

“That’s exactly it. I don’t get why it’s artists, like your father, who get kudos from the government. You’d think they’d be banned as well.”

“Dad’s a session muso, though,” Brian pointed out. “And he does everything himself. He’s no threat to the establishment.”

“Oh, and a band is?” Jimmy shook his head. “Just because that one band did what they did, way back when.”

Brian snorted, “It wasn’t one thing. It was a lot of things. But that attempted assassination was the final straw.”

“I still don’t understand it.”

“Yeah, but you know everything there is to know about the Creed. I don’t understand that,” Brian countered.

“That’s because to be able to fight against them you need to understand them.”

“Fight against them? What kind of an idiotic thing is that to say?”

“It’s not idiotic. You never know when it could come in handy. Anyway, I hate what they do-”

“You sound like Zack,” Brian started to interrupt.

But, Jimmy kept talking over him, thinking out loud really, “-and I always imagine one day starting a band and-”

“Don’t, Jimmy.”

Val’s crisp voice cut across their conversation, causing Jimmy to pause, and drawing both men’s attention to her. She stood with her arms akimbo, an anxious look in her eyes. Deepening the already dark brown hue.

Her voice shook faintly as she almost begged, “Don’t even say that. Please. Remember yesterday’s conversation?”

“Damn it, Val...” Jimmy sighed, sliding down on the chair, kicking his feet out. His chair wobbled. Then he let out a snort of laughter as he ended up on the floor the chair tipping onto its side. “Fuck...”

Brian pressed his face against his hand, shaking his head, not sure whether to laugh at his friend’s antics or be frustrated at what he’d been saying. Val just turned back to the stove, obviously not trusting herself to remain calm.

Jimmy looked at them both then mumbled, “I’m not stupid.”

Neither of his friends bothered responding.

* * * * *

Matthew rested a hand against the top frame of the tent. It was sturdy, even if he leaned hard on it. It hadn’t taken long for the two of them to put it up, probably around half an hour, from unpacking it and getting it up. Johnny was standing inside the tent, looking away from the big man, just studying the space around him. The tent space was sparse. All there was inside it was a small hanging lamp, a blow up mattress and an old blue blanket. Nothing special, but warm inside.

“So, you’ll be right out here?” Matt asked.

Johnny gave a small shrug, not bothering to answer.

Matthew sighed, rubbing a hand over his head. “I gotta go back over to Brian’s. Val’s over there.”

He didn’t really know why he was explaining this to the younger man. Maybe because he felt he needed to include him somehow. It was a little awkward having him there, but Matthew knew he didn’t have a choice. Neither of them did, really. And he wasn’t willing to fob him off on someone else. Johnny was his responsibility, so he would suck it up and do his job.

Johnny just lifted his shoulders again before sitting down on top of the blow-up mattress and wrapping himself up in the blanket. He still didn’t look at Matt, just gazed blankly at a spot several feet from him. As if there was something more interesting there than looking at the other man’s face.

“Well, don’t go anywhere,” Matthew said in as stern a tone he could muster. “I don’t want to have to hunt you down.”

Johnny made no response, just continued staring into space. The elder man had no idea what to say after that, so stepped back from the tent and made his way back to the house.

He paused before entering, though, turning to look back at the small shelter. It was pitched in a large expanse of grass by the pool, but somehow even for its large size it seemed extremely small, insignificant, lonely.

Matthew grimaced picturing the younger man sitting inside, bundled up and appearing just as small and alone as the tent did. And the fact that Johnny hadn’t reacted to anything he’d said. That made Matt more anxious than he wanted to admit. When he returned from Brian’s maybe he would try to talk to him again. And if he failed that time he would keep trying, and keep trying, until he got somewhere with the younger man.

Still, there wasn’t much he could do now, and he had promised to go back to his friend’s as soon as he was done. So, with a sigh, he turned and went inside.

I'm glad Johnny is out but I think he's been damaged, you know? I don't know what this prison might have done to him, but something tells me it wasn't good. I can picture him getting provoked over the smallest things and then Val will toss him out.

I wonder, too, how Val's going to take this news. "Oh, by the way, there's kind of a prisoner living in our backyard now. Hope you don't mind." *Val slaps Matt*

I love Jimmy *laughs*. I think I babysit too much, lol! My niece is 2 (almost 3) and sometimes rocks her chair back. We all holler at her: "four on the floor!" and I wanted to holler that at Jimmy and then remind him he's going to tip over.

You're not the only one, the closet educator in me wanted to yell "SIT PROPERLY!" at him. Anyone else, falling out the chair might make them think twice about doing it again, somehow I think not with Jimmy.

It's weird, somehow I expected Zack to be happier about Matt looking after Johnny, especially after chewing him out about the whole thing before.

@Aightball lol yeh when you're around even one kid a lot, you start noticing it in anyone or anything. I work with kids all day...little kids [3, 4 years old] and when I came home one day I told my brother off for sitting on the back of the sofa. [He's 16...lol].

I feel for Johnny in this...poor little short shit...lol

@Ciara Yeh, Zacky's reaction was odd, eh?

Thanks you guys

~~~~~~

~9~
The Locker
 
Matt Berry surveyed the silent warehouse, at the rows and rows of amps, guitars and other confiscated musical equipment. There were probably over thousands of drum sets and microphone stands arranged in neat rows along the walls and on large wooden crate carriers. He was responsible for counting every single piece that entered the building, and ensuring that none of it ever disappeared. It was his neck on the line if he missed anything.
 
The Locker had been built over ten years ago, when the government decided it wasn’t cost effective to destroy all the contraband that went through the system every year. It was situated five miles from the centre of town a massive steel grey complex that was hard to miss. No one spoke of the place, though unless it was in a derogative sense. Some called it the black hole of dreams, the place where people’s hopes were crushed. That is if their hopes had anything to do with creating music other than the approved.
 
“Fuck, where is it?”
 
Right now, Matt was searching for a certain custom made Schechter guitar that had been brought in about a month ago. Apparently, it had been relinquished voluntarily by an anonymous source. The Creed had found it at the main entrance to their barracks with a note attached telling them to treat the instrument with the utmost respect. That had confused all of them; however, they had stuck to protocol sending it over to Matt to process and put safely away in the Locker.
 
Matt had itemised it, giving it a barcode and tag number and he thought he had put it near the back of the warehouse. But it seemed to have disappeared.
 
“Number 31071981L, number 31071981L...” Matt mumbled to himself as he stalked the rows, scowling in frustration at the many different models he passed. “Number 31...” He paused poking his head over to look at an instrument tucked behind a box. “Nope...that’s not it... 31071981...oh...?”
 
Something caught his eye from the other side of the building. He pushed his way through a jumble of broken drum sets to a blanket-covered object at the west side of the warehouse.
 
It looked distinctly guitar shaped...
 
Whipping away the blanket he blinked at the shiny instrument that was revealed. With black and white vertical stripes running the length of the body it was a classy looking guitar. Unharmed it sat as if that was exactly where it was meant to be. He breathed a sigh of relief, carefully lifting the instrument from its stand.
 
“Right...need to send this to the Mayor...”
 
Matt had a habit of talking out loud, to himself. But, considering he worked almost exclusively in the Locker and he was there alone, most of the time it wasn’t all that surprising. He hadn’t been cut out for the Creed itself, unlike his twin. Yet, he didn’t really mind that. He preferred his own company, so working in the Locker was perfect for him.
 
Humming, Matt headed back to his office, carrying the guitar carefully in his arms. As he approached, his cell phone buzzed in his back pocket. Shifting the weight of the instrument, he tugged it out and held it up to his ear.
 
“Yeah?” he answered distractedly, until he recognised the deep, husky voice on the other end of the line. “Hey, Shads, what’s doing?”
 
He pushed open the door with his shoulder and hip, walking in and setting the Schechter down on the workbench. “Really? Where are you? Oh. Say hi to them for me... When you get there. Yeah? You left my brother at the barracks. Yeah, he said you were taking some time off.”
 
Matt shifted the phone to his right ear as he grabbed a cloth and began polishing the surface of the guitar. “Uh huh. Still checking up on me? Yeah, nothing new. Just doing something for the mayor.” He looked down into the almost reflective surface of the guitar. “Oh, he wanted this guitar. You know the one that was dropped at the barracks. Yeah, that’s the one.”
 
He propped the guitar up on its side, carefully running his fingers over the strings, nodding his head as Matthew continued talking on the other end of the line. Matt frowned a little at the tension that was evident in the other man’s voice. He sounded like a lot of things were going on in his head.
 
“So, what was it you needed, Shads?” His hand paused over the guitar’s body at Matthew’s answer. “What? Are you mad?” He groaned, smearing his free hand over his face. “No. Sorry. I’m not questioning you. You just shocked me. No...it’s fine. You know the item number?”
 
Matt moved away from the bench, grabbing a note pad off his desk, flipping the page he took a pen from his shirt pocket, holding it poised above the page.
 
“19810210...R? Right.” Matt scribbled the number down. “I’ll, um...find it for you and let you know. Will you come pick it up? Okay, well...I guess I’ll see you? Okay then.”
 
He scratched a small note next to the number. “Oh, by the way, Jason said Eski told you not to go back to the barracks for the rest of the week? Heh, you should go have a holiday somewhere.” He smiled slightly at Matthew’s response to that. “Yeah, make it a second honeymoon... Right, well catcha, then. Yup. Bye.”
 
Hanging up, Matt stood staring down at the note in his hand. He had no idea what the T-One was thinking with his request. It seemed so out of character and at any rate it wasn’t protocol. Usually only the Mayor or the General ever requested the removal of an item from the Locker and if that ever did occur it was extremely rare. Such as this Schechter that Elliott had asked delivery of.
 
But for Matthew to demand the release of an instrument...that surprised Matt. Still, it wasn’t his place to ask questions. He would do his job. He just hoped to Hell that Matthew knew what he was doing.
 
* * * * *
 
Matthew blinked hard, leaning his head back against the driver’s seat and tucking his cell phone back into his pocket. He wasn’t sure what he’d just done, it had been a decision he’d made off the cuff while driving back to Brian’s. But, his mind was in turmoil over Johnny’s predicament and many different thoughts had been flying around his head on the drive. And this seemed the easiest one to manage.
 
In hindsight, it was probably not the smartest choice he’d made, but it wasn’t as if he was doing anything illegal. He would have to wait to see how it would all play out, but for now it was out of his hands. In any case, he had other things to think of now.
 
Sighing and rubbing at his face in a tired gesture, Matthew shut off the engine. Quiet fell around him as he sat in the vehicle on Brian’s front lawn. He stared out the front windscreen at the house. It looked inviting, like it was calling to him. He felt a weight on his shoulders, though. Now that he was away from the Astor again he felt a sense of guilt settling heavily on his mind.
 
After the earlier conversation with Johnny, and the even earlier one with his friends, the past was right at the forefront of his mind. Everything that had happened with Johnny’s elder brother still weighed on him even after so long; though he had managed to quash those feelings beneath a facade of nonchalance.
 
Maybe General Eskino had been right to force him to take more time off. He really needed to get his head into gear before going back. Get his life sorted out as well, though that seemed too huge a task to even start thinking about. Too huge a task for a single week. He’d have to start with the little things, spending more time with his wife, with his friends. Zacky would approve of that. He laughed bitterly at that thought. Zacky had seemed so distant when he’d gone to borrow his tent from him. Cordial, yes, but not overly pleased to see him.
 
Matthew wondered for a moment when his friends had started to resent him for his position at The Creed, coming to the conclusion that they had probably hated the fact that he worked there ever since Luke’s execution. Or maybe even before that. He would have to fix that as well. Having them resent him for his career choice was not something he wanted to have hanging between them forever.
 
Rubbing at his arms, he then checked to make sure the vehicle was in park, before climbing out to stand in the driveway. He slid his Aviators from his face, hooking them onto the neck of his top. Taking a deep breath he steeled himself for the onslaught of questions and opinions he knew he would face once he walked through the door. But, he knew, for him at least, the most important person to focus on would be Valary. He had promised her the world, once again, and once again he hadn’t delivered. He had a lot to make up for.
 
* * * * *
 
“I’m sorry? Did you just say that Johnny is at your place?” Jimmy had a dumbfounded expression on his face. Matthew had just got done explaining why he had taken so long to get back.
 
They were seated in the Pool room at the back of the house, sprawled around the room on several large sofas. Matthew was lounging on the one closest to the back door. Val was curled up against his left side; Michelle’s little Maltese cross, Pinkly, was snuggling into his other.
 
Matthew nodded, absently running his fingers through Pinkly’s fur. The small dog turned its head and snuffled at his fingers. He tickled her gently, before glancing over at his friend.
 
Jimmy shook his head, an incredulous expression on his face. “Fuck. That’s crazy. You think he’s okay there? By himself?”
 
“You should’ve brought him over here,” Brian added, while cracking open what was his second beer.
 
Matthew sighed. “I didn’t think that’d be a good idea. He’s completely out of it.”
 
“Whaddya mean?” Jimmy said around a mouthful of corn chips which he’d just shoved into his mouth.
 
“Hey, any left for me?”
 
Jimmy tossed the bag over to him. “There. So, what do you mean ‘out of it’?”
 
Matthew caught the bag tipping it up to see how much was left, several pieces falling out onto the small table next to the sofa he was sitting on. “He’s not talking and shit. You say something to him, and he doesn’t respond. And he acts like he doesn’t want to live. It’s really fucking sad, actually.”
 
“Jesus.” Brian took a swig of his beer, then wiped at the back of his mouth, saying, “That doesn’t sound good; maybe you should send him to a shrink.”
 
Val lifted her head slightly from Matthew’s chest, adding, “You should try and find his parents.”
 
There was a long pause after her suggestion. After the raid, the rest of the Seward’s had left town. For awhile at least. Recently they had returned to New Huntington, but they were rarely seen out of their house, keeping to themselves and no longer visiting their old haunts. Matthew was the only one who had seen them at any length. He often drove past the old cemetery where Luke had been buried, and sometimes he would see one or other of Seward’s parents visiting the gravesite.
 
Early on he had entertained the thought of approaching them to try and find out how they were handling things, but as the weeks, months, years had passed Matthew felt that it wasn’t his place to disturb them. They were obviously grieving, and he didn’t think it would be fair on them to try and talk to them. But, now that Johnny was in the mix maybe he would have to reconsider his position. But, it wasn’t something he relished the thought of dealing with.
 
“And do what?” Matthew finally asked, breaking the awkward silence.
 
“I don’t know,” Val murmured, absently rubbing a palm over the print on the T-shirt he’d changed into.
 
“It’d be easier to send him to a shrink...” he mumbled while watching her gentle movements.
 
She met his gaze, seeing the weariness in his eyes. His lips twisted in a tired smile. She smiled back before resting her cheek against his chest again. He ran his fingers through her hair, sighing a little. It felt good having her there, close to him. It was killing him to be gone from her so long. Even though he didn’t like to admit it.
 
“Well, you should still bring him over here. Some time,” Brian stated gruffly.
 
“He’s still under custody, y’know,” Matthew pointed out, voice low.
 
“So? Doesn’t mean he has to stay in the one place. As long as you know where he is, right?”
 
Matthew shrugged. “Guess so.”
 
Dipping his hand in the bag of chips, he pulled some out, popping one in his mouth then feeding the other pieces to Pinkly. The dog yipped happily, crunching them up before nestling back into the man’s leg.
 
Jimmy chuckled, “Do you spoil Bella as much as you spoil her, Matt?”
 
Matthew snorted. “Bella’s a dumb dog. Remember when she ate those special brownies?”
 
“That was your fault for leaving them where she could reach them,” Val reminded him with a giggle.
 
“Oh, yeah?” He tickled her side gently, “If my memory serves me, you’re the one who made them.”
 
“Oh, you,” she slapped at his chest. He stuck out his bottom lip at her, pretending to look hurt. Val let her head drop back against his torso, as she sighed not dignifying him with a response.
 
Matthew chuckled, stroking her hair in a tender gesture.
 
“You have to go back to work tomorrow, don’t you, Val?” Jimmy asked after a moment.
 
Valary nodded, the movement causing Matthew’s chest to tighten. The thought of staying at home while his wife went to work galled him more than he would admit. Call him old-fashioned, but Matt still followed the notion that as the man of the house he had to do more work than her. That he had to be the bread winner, and be responsible for the family’s financial stability. Even though he wasn’t as patriarchal in his thinking as some of the other men in the Creed. He had no problem with Val earning a living. He just felt responsible, that was all.
 
“Can I come with?” Matthew asked, lazily.
 
Valary tilted her head, blinking up at him. “You want to come to the Council with me?”
 
“Sure,” the corners of his mouth twitched. “I don’t have anything better to do.” Especially since he wasn’t going to be at the barracks all week.
 
“What about Johnny?”
 
Matthew answered, “I’ll bring him too.”
 
“I don’t know.” Val scratched at her cheek. “It’s not all that interesting.”
 
“It’s election time, though.”
 
“True.” A thoughtful expression appeared in Val’s eyes. “I have to go in early.”
 
Matthew lifted his shoulders in a casual gesture. “I’ll come over late morning. I need to go pick something up first, anyway.”
 
Jimmy leaned forward on his seat. He was rolling a smoke on the coffee table in front of him. Tapping the end on the glass, he pulled out a lighter, the small flame flaring as he set it to the end of the cigarette paper.
 
“What’s that?” he asked, curiosity shining in his bright blue eyes.
 
Matthew looked over at him. “What’s what?”
 
“What do you need to pick up?” Jimmy stuck the end of the smoke between his lips, holding it there, not really doing anything with it, even as a tiny puff of smoke trailed upwards.
 
Matthew shook his head, muttering, “Just something I promised Jason I’d get. Since I’m not working this week.”
 
“Oh, sounds mysterious,” Jimmy grinned, before taking a drag of his cigarette.
 
“Everything’s a mystery to you, Rev,” Brian commented, drily.
 
“Yeah. Did you hear about those old records that were left on Heirrison’s Field? They all disappeared.”
 
“Heirrison’s? You mean the old baseball park?” Matthew picked through the remains of the corn chips, flicking pieces absently to Pinkly. Val had settled against him again, just listening to the conversation.
 
“Yeah,” Jimmy said, moving his smoke from the left side of his mouth to the right. “The Flusher’s moved it all, apparently. But, I don’t think they did.”
 
“Maybe it was the Creed,” Brian suggested. “The stuff could’ve been moved to the Locker.”
 
Matthew asked at the same time, “What records were they anyway? Music?”
 
“Yeah, there’re still some illegal bootlegs of old time bands floating around. The Creed would want to get rid of them all.” Jimmy sat back on his seat, the leather creaking faintly as he sank down into the middle of the cushion.
 
“Wouldn’t they burn them all?” Brian pointed out. “I mean, sure they keep all the equipment and instruments. But, albums? Wouldn’t they want to destroy them all? Matt?”
 
“Um, they do. Most of the time.” Matthew scrunched up the empty chip packet, leaving it on the table. “But, I think they keep one copy of every album in the Locker.”
 
“Why would they? If it’s illegal?” Brian looked at his friend, one eyebrow raised. Matthew didn’t know the answer to that question. He was the commander, and he should know these things, but it had been so long since he’d read up on the policies of the Creed.
 
Jimmy smirked, noting the bigger male’s reticence and seeming lack of knowledge. “The Creed keeps one of every album as a failsafe. They often use random clips from them to use as propaganda against the forming of bands, or musical groups.” His voice took on the formal air of a news reporter. “There was a rally several months ago, sponsored by the Creed – Matt you were there – where the Mayor stood up and pronounced a reminder of the ‘terribly dehumanising influence’,” he made quotation marks in the air, “of rock music and some music was played to back up his statements.”
 
Matthew rolled his eyes, interrupting his friend, “Don’t remind me. That was the most boring speech I’ve heard Elliott give, ever. I almost fell asleep listening to that.”
 
“What did they play?” Brian butted in.
 
“Can’t remember,” Jimmy said, “but, whatever it was it was some heavy, hardcore shit.”
 
“It was Rebel Assassin’s Prelude to Disaster,” Matthew said, quietly. “I do remember that.” He looked down at Val, who smiled faintly at him as their eyes met. “A definite turn off when it comes to musical tastes...”
 
“Yeah, that’s their heaviest song,” Jimmy commented, frowning a little.
 
“All their shit was heavy,” Brian said, shifting his weight on his seat.
 
“That’s true. But Prelude was the heaviest.”
 
They went quiet after Jimmy’s statement. The atmosphere in the room was unusually sombre and there wasn’t much else any of them felt like saying.
 
Jimmy continued to fiddle with the cigarette in his mouth, sinking into his own little world, deep in thought. Brian pulled out his notepad and began scribbling lines down, his gaze fixed on the pages as a look of concentration formed on his face. Pinkly jumped off from next to Matthew, racing over to jump up next to her master. Brian scratched at the little dog’s belly as he kept writing.
 
Matthew leaned his head against the back of the sofa, staring up at the clean white ceiling, exhaling in a tired breath. Val stayed snuggled into his body, her breaths steady, calming. He wrapped his arm around her waist, sliding down a little so he was almost lying on the cushions.
 
The only sounds in the room besides the scratching of Brian’s pen on paper were the soft noises of their breathing, which filled the room in a quiet harmony, nothing else encroaching on the stillness that settled over them.

Shads, you man of mystery. I wonder what in the world he's taking from The Locker. It surprises me that he'd put his job on the line (I'm assuming) to get something from there. Hrm.

Luke's bass maybe? To give to Johnny? *is spitballing*
I wanna know what the mayor is doing with that Schechter though...giving it to Papa Gates perhaps to pass along to his son?

CiaraCobb wrote:Luke's bass maybe? To give to Johnny? *is spitballing*
I wanna know what the mayor is doing with that Schechter though...giving it to Papa Gates perhaps to pass along to his son?

I never thought of it being the bass...that's a good point. I just know that my curiosity is very high!

My first thought about the Schechter was giving it to PG...I want to know who dropped it off!!!

@Aightball Shads is very surprising...

@Ciara You will see sooner or later...

thanks you guys

~~~~~

~10~
Plan A

It was far too early by all accounts, but then Zacky had never been a morning person. To him, noon was too early for someone to be awake and focussing on a difficult task. As it was, it was already nine in the morning and he felt sluggish, and completely not on the ball. Which was piss-poor considering the Mayor was going to be there in about ten minutes...

“Mr Baker?”

Zacky jumped, almost wiping himself out on the beam above his head. “Shit...” He groaned, sitting up and blinking hard before cocking his head so he could look up at the Mayor.

Elliott was standing about five feet away from him, an amused expression on his face.

“Good morning, Zachary. How’re things going here?”

“Ugh...the parts only just came in this morning,” Zacky grumbled. “I’m not really happy with my supplier to be honest.” He sat up, rubbing at the back of his head. “I’m not sure when I’m going to be done.”

The Mayor smiled a little, as he rocked back on his heels, hooking his thumbs into the belt which was only just holding up his suit pants. Being of lean build, his pants looked too big on him, but he wasn’t the type to really care about that. There were other things he wasn’t too bothered about either, like the fact that his car wasn’t ready yet.

“You know, that’s why I came around.”

Zacky frowned. “Why, sir?”

Elliott crossed his arms looking seriously at the younger man. “I noticed your truck out there. Looks like it’s seen better days.”

The old Ford truck had definitely been driven beyond its capacity. Zacky’s father had given it to him before he had retired from the business. Of course, Zacky rarely even drove it; he left it outside the shop because he was always meaning to fix it up. But, never got around to doing it. Shrugging, he got up, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Yeah, it’s pretty old. What of it?” Zacky was curious as to why the Mayor was even bothering to bring it up. The man probably had more important things to think about than the old ride of the local mechanic.

The Mayor started scratching at his receding hairline, his brow furrowing. “Well, I was thinking, I really need to get myself a new car. Especially if I manage to get re-elected. So, I was thinking, I could just leave the Bentley here... still pay you full cost of repairing it, of course.”

Zacky stared at the Mayor, confusion passing across his features; he opened his mouth but couldn’t figure out what he was supposed to say. Elliott solved the problem, though continuing on.

“Basically, you can keep the Bentley once you’ve repaired it.”

“Pull the other one,” Zacky shook his head.

“Zachary, I’m not joking. I want you to have it.”

“Sir, I couldn’t possibly...” he protested, shaking his head some more. He couldn’t really believe that the Mayor would just throw away an expensive vehicle like that. And give it to him, no less. It wasn’t as if he deserved to have it. Sure he worked his ass off, but he wasn’t the best and he wasn’t the type to have a ride like the Bentley. He was much more comfortable with his old truck. It suited him down to a tee.

Then again, the Mayor was offering. But, it was doing his head in. Zacky kept shaking his head.

“I can’t take it, sir.”

Elliott gave him a tired look as he said, “Well, I don’t want it. I will just leave it here; you can do what you want with it.”

Zacky scowled, rubbing at a grease stain on his cheek. “Well, thanks. I guess.”

He peered up at the vehicle of mention. The bulk of it was hanging above them looking a complete wreck. He could still fix it at least. Decide what to do with it afterward.

He glanced back at the Mayor, a thought coming to him. “How did you get here?”

“BMW. It’s on loan from the Council,” the Mayor said. “It’s a nice ride. I might get myself one.” He smiled as he added, “Anyway, I could have the Bentley signed over to you this morning. You’d have to come down to the Council with me, though.”

The younger man stretched, frowning a little his gaze moving around the shop. Other than the Bentley, he hadn’t really got much work over the past couple of months. He’d been seriously considering winding down, shutting up shop and getting out of town for a bit. Maybe try and convince the others to go with him. Of course, it probably was highly unlikely to happen, but the gist of it was that he didn’t have much work, so he couldn’t really turn down Elliott’s offer.

Shrugging, he sighed. “Fine, not like anyone’s gonna miss me.”

The Mayor lifted his eyebrows. “Your brother not here today?”

Zacky rolled his eyes. “He caught a bug; don’t want him near me right now.”

Elliott laughed softly. “Very true. I try not to catch things like that.” He went quiet when he noticed the younger man didn’t seem all too interested in what he was saying. That was nothing new though.

The younger generation tended to not respond well to authority. They kept to themselves mostly, didn’t make a fuss, but they believed they had more important things to think about, like earning a crust, or hanging with friends. Not that the Mayor thought there was anything inherently wrong with that. It was just that as an older man, he wasn’t really cool in the eyes of these young men and women.

Going over to the counter, Zacky grabbed his wallet. “Well, I guess we should get this over with, then.”

Checking that all his tools were safely back where they belonged, Zacky turned and headed for the entrance, flicking switches as he passed them.

The Mayor followed him out, saying nothing more, waiting as the younger man locked up the shop.

* * * * *

Elliott pulled into his usual spot. Zacky leaned forward, squinting through the windscreen recognising a large figure leaning up against a vehicle close to the Mayor’s.

“Isn’t that the T-One?” Elliott asked, as he put the car in park.

Zacky nodded, his lips twisting in a sour smile. “Yeah it is. Wonder what he’s doing here?”

“His wife works for me. Maybe he dropped her off.”

Zacky lifted his shoulders in a noncommittal gesture, looking out the window again. Matthew hadn’t moved. His arms were crossed over his chest, his big body held tight, closed. Those ever present Aviators concealed his expression as well as if he’d been wearing a mask, and the leather jacket he wore gave him a tough, inapproachable air.

For a moment, Zacky wondered why his friend was so tense, but then he saw that Johnny was seated in the backseat of the SUV, still with that same blank look that he’d had the day before. Matt was obviously trying not to show how worried he was about the younger male. If he was indeed worried. Zacky shook his head at that thought. Of course Matthew was worried. He had to be. Judging by the way he had talked about Johnny the day before, he couldn’t be anything less.

Getting out of the car, Zacky pondered whether he should go over and ask Matt what he was doing, but the Mayor was waving him toward the building.

“Come on, we’d better do this so you can get back to the shop.”

Zacky paused, looking over at his friend. He still made no motion, not even lifting his head to look over toward them. If Matthew knew they were there, he wasn’t giving it away.

Sighing, Zacky turned and walked toward Elliott, hoping that when he came back out Matt would still be there.

* * * * *

As the door shut behind the Mayor and his friend, Matthew lifted his head. His eyes narrowed behind the safety of his shades. Then he shifted his gaze to Johnny who was watching him with cool eyes. He looked away again, thoughts roaming around his brain.

Seeing Zacky made him think on what he was planning to do that day. The request he’d made of Matt Berry. Maybe, just maybe he should involve someone else, other than Johnny. After all, Johnny was a criminal or at least was labelled as such by the authorities. He really wasn’t an appropriate accomplice in Matthew’s scheme. Someone he could trust, a true friend would be a better fit. Even if that friend was pissed beyond words with him.

Scowling, he turned slightly and tapped on the glass, pointing down with the other hand. Johnny evidently figured out what he meant because the window slid down with a soft hiss.

“What?” Johnny’s voice was hoarse. Considering he’d hardly spoken two words since waking that morning it wasn’t really all that surprising.

“I need to talk to Zacky. Stay here, okay?”

Johnny just gave him a look like it was totally unnecessary for him to say that.

Matthew sighed. “I...uh...won’t be long.”

The younger male shrugged, looking away. Again that was probably a pointless statement.

Matt observed him for a moment wondering not for the first time what was going on in his head. Then he turned and headed for the front of the Council building.

He hit the entrance mat, the double doors sliding open in front of him. Stepping through them, he cast his hidden stare across the reception area. An officious looking woman at the front desk noticed him and came around from behind it, approaching him. She stopped several feet from him a wary expression in her eyes.

Everything about her screamed extreme professional but she seemed anxious. This was no shock really. Being who he was, with the reputation that he had only those who knew him well were never nervous around him, and even they had their moments.

“Good morning, sir. How may I help you?” The secretary’s voice was crisp, and efficient.

Matthew smiled a little. “I just saw the Mayor coming in with the local mechanic. Do you know which way they went?”

“Yes, of course.” The secretary, Phillipa – her name was on the badge clipped to her blouse – pointed to the left of the desk. A corridor led off to a series of offices in the direction she indicated. “The Mayor’s office is that way, sir. Do you have an appointment?”

He gave a low chuckle. “I’m the TaskerOne. I don’t need an appointment to see the Mayor.”

That ruffled her feathers a little. “Oh, I...uh...I apologise, I thought- of course, go right ahead, sir.”

Matthew smiled at her fumble, but inclined his head in thanks before making his way to the corridor. Before he could head down it though, a familiar voice called to him.

“Matt?”

He swivelled around to see Val standing in the doorway of the office right next to the front desk. A curious expression flickered across her face.

“Hey,” he said, his lips twitching.

“What are you doing back here? I thought you said you were going to take Johnny to his parents?” Val asked, frowning at him.

That morning, he and Val had gotten into an argument over that. Matthew couldn’t see the benefit of taking Johnny to his olds’. His wife was adamant that it would do the younger man a world of good. He didn’t think they’d had such a heated argument in a long time. But then, it wasn’t as if they’d been in each other’s company long enough to blow up at each other.

Eventually, while he’d been trying to hustle Johnny out of the tent – which had been another sticking point for Valary – they’d come to an uneasy truce. Matt would take Johnny to his parents but only if Val promised to drop the subject and not mention it again. She’d agreed and had said nothing more about the conversation. Not even when he decided, after some thought, to drive her to work before heading off to the Seward’s.

Changing his plans last minute was a little difficult on Matthew, because he’d wanted to head to the Locker first thing that morning, but considering his whole routine had been turned on its head, anyway, one more change was no huge deal.

Matt grimaced. “I have to talk to Zack.”

“What? Then why come in here?”

“He’s here. With Elliott.”

Val tilted her head to the left. “Oh?”

“Yes. I have to ask him something.” Matthew turned, walking to her. He looked down into her face, his features tightening into a pained mask.

She looked up at him, anxiety passing in her eyes. “What question, Matt?”

He shook his head, lifting a hand to run his fingers across her cheek. “Nothing you need to worry about. I’ll come back later and tell you how it went with the Seward’s.”

Val grabbed his hand, squeezing it firmly. He leaned down, brushing his lips gently against hers. Then he stepped back, turned on his heel and walked away down the corridor.

If he had looked back, he would have seen his wife standing in the doorway with her fingers pressing at her lips. Would have seen the wistful expression in her eyes. But, he didn’t look back, his mind focussed.

He stalked down the corridor, his strides purposeful, his gaze fixed on his destination. The double doors that heralded the Mayor’s office were right down the end of the hall. He paused before them, wondering for a second what the Hell he thought he was doing.

Matthew knew when he asked Zacky the question that was on his mind, more a request than anything, it would definitely cause some issues. A lot of confusion in particular. But, he felt he had to do it. Somehow he knew it would go a long way to solving the rift that had appeared between him and his friends. He didn’t exactly know how, it was just a gut feeling. And from experience when he acted on a gut feeling, he had never been proven wrong.

He took several deep breaths, rubbing his hands together, adjusting his shades, focussing his mind on the task ahead. Then steeling himself, Matthew placed his palm against the heavy wooden door and pushed it open.

Oh that is so not fair. You have a knack for cliffhangers don't you?!

The mysterious object from the locker is beginning to drive me crazy now, and what's it got to do with Zacky? Still wondering about the Schechter too. Too many questions. My brain is going to explode!

My brain is also going to explode!

SO many unanswered questions...and it's driving me insane!! You know...outside of about an hour today, I really have nothing better to do than sit here and wait for you to update...

Lol guys, well then I hope this answers SOME questions

~11~
And...action.

“Wow, I didn’t realise this place was so fucking big...”

Matthew stood back, watching as Johnny and Zacky gazed up at the vaulted ceiling of the Locker. Steel beams crossed the length of the airspace and those circular caged lights that were often found in warehouses lined the gaps, hanging from long metal stems like upside down flowers. The space was large, cool, and extremely overawing. And they were only in the entrance hall. Johnny of course was as silent as ever. It was the mechanic who had made the exclamation.

“I mean, hell...the way they talk about it, you’d think the place was underground...”

“Most of it is,” Matthew pointed out.

Zacky glanced back at him, lifting an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah. This is just the first level. There are three levels down and it stretches for miles underground.”

“Fuck. That’s insane.” Zacky shook his head, dragging his fingers through his hair. “How much shit is in here?”

Matthew’s face tightened. “Too much.” He didn’t go further with that statement, knowing if he did he’d probably say something he’d regret much later on down the track. Then again, this whole exercise they were about to embark on was probably going that route, anyway. Not that he was going to admit that.

Lifting a hand he motioned to his two companions. “Come on, we need to go to the office.”

Zacky moved to walk next to his friend, keeping his eyes fixed on a point several feet in front of them. He was still mad at Matthew. But, a part of him had been intrigued by the request that had been laid out before him. At least, enough to entice him to leave his shop closed for the rest of the day.

To be honest, he had always wanted to see inside the Locker. It was morbid curiosity which drove that particular thought process. Most people would avoid even talking about the Locker. It wasn’t anyone’s favourite place. Particularly anyone who had their things confiscated by the Creed. But, Zacky had never been in that position so his curiosity stemmed from the fact that it wasn’t really part of his life.

He took a moment to glance at his friend; Matthew was striding along in silence, his thoughts locked away behind the impenetrable cover of his Aviators. Not for the first time, and probably not the last either, Zacky wondered what was going on in Matt’s mind. He rarely gave anything away, if at all. That had always been the case, even back when they were all at high school.

Matthew Sanders was a man of very few words, and it hadn’t helped when he was younger that he’d had a bit of a stutter, always repeating words and having to really think hard before he spoke. It was evident, though, that he had improved on that front, quite a lot, except that if he got really excited he still repeated words in a jumble, sometimes. But, that didn’t happen often enough for anyone to notice.

His friend’s mysterious demeanour, of course, hadn’t gone unnoticed by any of his other friends – Brian and Jimmy - and it had caused them to call Matthew by the nickname ‘Shadows’. Well, Matthew had come up with it, and Zacky had just started to refer to him like that more than his actual name. It fitted, and it still suited now. Zacky knew that the men in the Creed used that moniker for the big man almost exclusively. It made him a lot more intimidating.

Zacky turned his contemplation from his friend to the younger man who was trailing behind them. Johnny Seward. He was walking with his head down, arms folded tight across his chest as if holding himself together. There was a feeling of sorrow that seemed to hang over him like an invisible storm cloud. Zacky could understand part of why Johnny was feeling as if the whole world was against him. Luke Seward had been his friend. Pretty damn close, really. And when he’d...died, it was as if a light had been doused.

However, what Matthew had said about Johnny not wanting to live was a bit harder to take in. Part of him wished he hadn’t asked on the drive over to the Locker. He would’ve much rather gone on not knowing that about the younger Seward. It was really depressing, and he was usually the one who could cause a room of people to feel bad. For Matthew to make him feel depressed was a new thing altogether.

“Zack,” Matthew’s voice pulled the younger man from his thoughts.

“Huh?”

“What were you doing with Elliott?”

Zacky looked over at him, finding himself staring into his confused eyes. Matthew had slid his shades down the slope of his nose, one eyebrow cocked.

“Oh, he was signing his Bentley over to me.”

Matthew let out a low whistle. “Nice.”

Zacky snorted. “Only if I can fix it. Pretty worthless, really.”

“You going to sell it once you have?”

The mechanic rolled his eyes. “I hadn’t thought about that really. Maybe I should. It’d cover all my debts and some.”

Matthew grinned a little. “You could take a holiday.”

“Yeah, guess I could,” Zacky shrugged.

“No, seriously. I reckon you should.”

Zacky shot the bigger man a sharp look, retorting, “Says the man who needs a vacation more than I do.”

Matthew’s face closed up. He pushed his Aviators back over his eyes. Zacky rolled his eyes again.

“Don’t do that, Shads. You know I’m right.”

“You rolling your eyes at me doesn’t help convince me, Zachary.”

“Rolling your eyes just pisses him off.”

They both halted, swinging their heads around to look at Johnny. He didn’t stop and just kept walking passed them, his head still down. But, it was the first words they’d heard him speak all morning and it surprised them both.

“Uh...Johnny?” Zacky jogged to catch up with the smaller man. Johnny didn’t look up, or stop, he just kept going.

But, he did answer, his voice low, barely audible. “He doesn’t like that, Vengeance.”

Zacky blinked at the name. “You remembered...”

Johnny didn’t respond that time.

Matthew caught up with them, a frown marring his features. “Zack, I can’t...” he cleared his throat, roughly. “I can’t afford to take a break. It’s hard enough Eskino is making me take this week off.” He’d explained all that to his friend on the way over, finally breaking his silence, at least on that front.

Zacky shot him a hard look. “No offence, Matt, but he’s right to do this to you. You need to get your priorities straight.”

Matthew glowered at his friend before turning to a door to their left. He placed a big palm on it, leaning against the solid wood, but not opening it. It became evident after a moment that he was trying to compose himself, taking deep breaths and murmuring in a low voice.

Zacky took the time during the small pause to look at the door and noted the plaque at the top: Main Office.

“Matt...”

“Don’t.” Matthew shook his head, before pushing the door open and stepping into the room.

* * * * *

The office was quite small. That was the first thing Johnny noticed as he walked in behind Zacky and Matthew. The space was enclosed, almost claustrophobic. Considering the room was the hub of the Locker, it was a little surprising. The second thing he noticed was the guitar that lay half-wrapped on the bench that took up most of the central space of the room. The stark black and white stripes were hard to miss.

Matt Berry caught him looking, and quickly reached over to whip the blanket over it, before turning to Matthew and engaging him in discussion about some item he had requested. Johnny hadn’t really been paying any attention when Matthew was talking to Zacky on the way over from the Council chambers, so had no idea what was going on. And, honestly he wasn’t really interested...

“...Seward’s bass? Are you crazy?”

Johnny’s ears pricked and all his muscles froze up.

He still remembered when he’d first got the instrument. It was his thirteenth birthday and Luke had bought it for him with all his savings. He’d been so excited to unwrap it, and plug it into the old rickety amp he and Luke had found in the dump. The subterfuge had been exhilarating as well, playing with his brother’s band in the padded shed out the back. They’d come so close to getting caught, several times, managing to escape detection by the skin of their nose. Afterwards they would laugh and joke that they were invincible...

But then, that date six years ago...

Johnny clenched his jaw, turning his head toward the others. Their conversation had continued while he’d been thinking on the past.

“You’d better hope you don’t get found with it. What the hell do you want it for anyway?” Matt Berry looked suitably anxious. Johnny could understand that. But, he couldn’t figure out what was going on. Even though they were speaking plainly. His mind was just a mess. Shaking his head to himself, he turned his gaze to the other Matt, the one who had brought him here.

Matthew ran his fingers along the edge of the bench, flicking the blanket back from the guitar, gazing at it before answering.

“You see Johnny?” He didn’t turn to indicate the younger male, but Matt could see. Johnny stiffened a little as Matt Berry glanced over at him.

“Uhuh?” Berry tilted his head to one side.

“It’s been six years since...the bust.” Matthew traced his thumb along the straight lines of the bodywork. He didn’t go further with his statement, just started circling the bench, examining the firm lines of the instrument. Then he said, “So...this is the one Elliott asked for, right?”

Matt blinked; Johnny frowned at the abrupt change of topic.

Zacky spoke up, “Uh...Shads, we were talking about Johnny’s-”

Matthew talked right over him, “Right, Berry?”

“Um, yes. Right.”

“Wrong.” Matthew’s lips twitched a vague hint if amusement passing across his features.

“Pardon?”

That got everyone’s attention. Matt Berry started blinking rapidly, not sure he’d heard the other male correctly. Zacky coughed, smearing a hand over his face and shaking his head in bemusement. Johnny just listened, his brow creasing in thought.

“What do you mean ‘wrong’?” Matt asked his tone sharp.

Matthew looked up from the guitar. “Perks of being TaskerOne, I get direct access to the Mayor’s purchase order account.”

“You...what?”

“I logged into the Mayor’s email account and sent through the request for this instrument. I need to get it back to the person who originally had it commissioned.”

Matt Berry stared at him; Zacky scowled. “You’re supposed to take this stuff away, not give it back."

Matthew rolled his eyes, slapping his palm against the bench. “I have to uphold the law. But I also have to do what’s right.” He glared at them both, then looked over at Johnny who was staring at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“Isn’t that the same thing?” Zacky asked.

“What?”

“Upholding the law and doing the right thing?”

Matthew gave his friend a hard look. “No. The law is the law. It’s not always the right thing. Take Hitler. He decided it was illegal for Jews to do certain things. That didn’t make what he did to them right.”

“Okay...” Zacky folded his arms across his chest, expression just as stern as his friend’s. “You’re not making any sense.”

“How am I not making sense? Hitler killed all those Jews...”

“I’m not talking about Hitler.”

“Oh, right. The whole doing the right thing versus doing what the law says is right.”

“Yes. What’s up with that? Seriously? You definitely need a vacation.”

Matthew snorted. “And, now we’re back to that. I’m perfectly fine.” He turned his back nodding to the guitar. “Berry, wrap that up. Then you can take us to the Cellar.”

The Cellar was the lowest level of the Locker where the instruments of those who had either been executed or imprisoned, were kept. It was rare that anyone ever went down there, in fact usually only Matt did, being the one responsible for the centre.

“Um, yes, of course.” Matt picked up on the edge in Matthew’s tone and decided it would be best not to question him. He set to the task, keeping one ear on the ongoing conversation while prepping the instrument.

Zacky wasn’t so cautious. “I don’t get it. You get all fucking pissed at Jimmy for even suggesting anything vaguely to do with forming a band. And now you’re trying to get this guitar back to whoever had it made, and you want Johnny’s bass.”

There was several beats of silence where the three men all gave Matthew weird looks. Matt Berry was on the outer, considering he wasn’t essentially part of his inner circle of friends. Johnny was as well, just completely confused and wondering how this would affect him. Zacky just didn’t know what was going on with his friend. It was a mystery and was beginning to do his head in.

Matthew sighed, shaking his head. “There’s nothing to get. I’m doing this because I think it’s right.”

“It’s illegal.”

“Actually, only forming a band is. Unless Johnny’s going to form a one-man band, I don’t see the issue,” Matthew murmured.

Zacky, leaning against the bench, hissed through his teeth, “You’re still not making any sense.”

“You know what, Baker? Get over it. It’ll make sense soon enough. Can we just do this, and get out of here?” Matthew had had enough; his friend’s statements were beginning to get under his skin and he knew if he let it go any further he’d lose his temper.

Johnny was of the same mind, because he interrupted the conversation in an unexpected manner.

“Could someone tell me I’m fucking dreaming? My bass is here and I’m going to get it back?” His exclamation was clearly a question, but the tone in his voice caught all their attentions forcing them to look over to where he was standing by the door, glaring at them. The fact that he’d actually said anything was also a shock. Not that Johnny cared about that.

Matthew dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the leather of his jacket creaking at the motion. He didn’t answer, though. Matt Berry just shrugged.

After regaining his composure from the surprise of Johnny actually saying something, again, Zacky snapped, his tone cold, “I wouldn’t bother asking, Christ. You’re not gonna get a fucking answer.”

Johnny snorted, and said his tone just as scathing, “Yeah, that’s no surprise.”

Matthew pushed his shades up above his eyes, rubbing at them. “Ugh...you guys...just quit it, okay? I’ll explain everything...just not right now.”

Zacky shot a glare his way. “You’d better, Sanders. I don’t like not understanding shit.” He jabbed a finger in the air as he added, “And since you asked me to come with as a favour, I sure as shit think you owe me an explanation.”

Sighing, the bigger man looked down at the bench, shaking his head slowly, “Just wait, okay...I’ll explain once we’re done here...”

“Yeah? Well, I’m holding you to that,” Zacky said, his expression guarded, eyes narrowed in irritation.

Matthew acknowledged his friend with a nod of his head, knowing he’d have to front sooner or later, anyway. Then he turned to Berry. “Matt? Johnny’s bass?”

Matt had finished packing the Schechter, which was now in its own case, leaning up against the wall. He nodded to Matthew, walking to the door. Johnny stepped aside, letting him open it.

“This way...” Matt beckoned to them, walking out into the long corridor outside.

Johnny followed him out first, Zacky next.

Matthew brought up the rear, shutting the door and making sure it was locked tight behind him.

Ahhh peer pressure, lol!

That did answer some questions yes but created more. I really want to know where the Schechter is going for starters (though I have an idea), and what Matt is thinking getting these items from lock up. I mean, surely the idea to create a band will form when the instruments are back in their owner's hands and then we're just going to have more trouble. Hrm. Well done!

the mice endure wrote:@Ciara Yes, Johnny is a little shit . But, yeah...he was very down. And thank you for that , I actually wondered if that line worked.

@Aightball How old is your niece? She's the one who calls Jimmy Uncle, right? .

@andigo Shads called him a little shit first .

Thanks you guys .

I've not forgive Matt either

^I wouldn't either, .

Oh my god it was Johnny's bass all along!?! So Matt requisitioned the Schechter too?! Oh this cannot end well, can it!?

Who knows

Haha, true Aightball...more questions to be answered.

~~~~~~

~12~
Frank

Johnny sat in the back of the SUV, silent as ever, but he had a death grip on the wrapped object that lay across his lap.

When Matt Berry had taken them down to the lowest level of the Locker, when he had brought out the bass, when he had placed it into the younger man’s hands... Johnny couldn’t explain the emotion that had overcome him. It had been overwhelming, too much to even try thinking on. Thankfully, Matthew and Zacky had made no comment, hadn’t tried to say anything to him. It was evident that that hadn’t been the point of the exercise. They weren’t there to badger him to open up or anything. Of course, it wasn’t obvious what the point was at all. Matthew was still not forthcoming with an explanation.

The big man sat in the driver’s seat, a grim quiet settling around him. His covered stare was fixed on the road, concentrating on their next destination.

The Seward’s lived at the east edge of town, had done so ever since they moved there from Long Beach, long before Johnny was born. Frank Seward was a salesman of the old school. However, he had settled down after Janet had had their first son, Luke. He’d switched to cars and had been in the business ever since. He was in fact very close friends with Zack’s family. Or had been up until Luke’s death.

Everything changed after that. The Seward’s stopped socialising, and holed themselves up in their single-storey bungalow. At one stage there were even rumours of them having left town, and then returned under covert circumstances. Or at least, without letting anyone know they’d come back. Or left.

None of that mattered now, though. All Matthew was worried about was how they would respond to having him show up at their doorstep with their younger child. He’d rehearsed, in his head, what he wanted to say, over and over again, but it still didn’t sound right. How could he really explain to them what was going on? Considering he’d killed their eldest he felt that they probably would resent him, and maybe even make accusations of him. Which in hindsight he most definitely deserved.

Despite the fact what he had done was a requirement of the law, he knew those closest to Luke would see it as an unnecessary act. Almost criminal, in a sense. Basic human rights came into play here, the most fundamental being one’s right to live. However, the law was the law, and breaking it incurred certain penalties.

Glancing in the rear-view mirror, Matthew could see Johnny, sitting with his head down, hands gripping the covered bass. Seeing the younger male’s expression when Berry had revealed the instrument had almost been worth the anxiety he was still feeling. Johnny’s eyes had lit up for a moment, some life coming back to them. He’d grabbed hold of the bass, clutching it to his chest and hadn’t let go of it the whole way back out of the Locker. The look in his eyes at that second was enough to let Matthew know he’d made the right decision. And that was at least some kind of relief.

He shifted his gaze back to the road, but not before noting Zacky who was sat next to him, leaning up against the window, staring out at the passing scenery. The mechanic was still angry but was doing a great job of not letting it show. His face was calm, flat, revealing nothing. The corners of his mouth were turned down a little though, and every now and again he would absently suck at the piercings on his lower lip.

It bothered Matthew a lot that his friend was mad at him. Even though he wasn’t one to admit such things. He just hoped that he’d eventually be able to fix things between them. However, he had to worry about Johnny first and foremost.

Focusing his gaze on the road, he saw the sign for the turn off heading to the Eastern Quarter looming ahead. Squeezing at the steering wheel, he hit the indicator and muttered a soft curse, before swinging onto the road.

“Problem?” Zacky’s voice broke the heavy silence that had filled the cabin.

Matthew didn’t remove his eyes from the bitumen as he answered, “None at all.”

“Really?” That incredulous air that the mechanic had sported the whole morning was still evident in his voice.

“Yeah, really.”

“Bull.”

Matthew shot a hard look his friend’s way. “Well, if you’re such an expert on all this. Please, feel free to enlighten me.”

“You need to loosen up,” Zacky said, his tone sharp. “It’s not gonna help Johnny relax any, if you don’t.”

Matthew sighed. It wasn’t as if he disagreed, he was just too worried. Shaking his head, he muttered, “None of this is easy, Zack. I’m just…” He paused, glancing sideways at his friend.

“You just?” Zacky prompted his voice still tight.

Matt shook his head.

The two men went silent for a moment, as if waiting for something. Matthew kept driving, gaze returning to the road, watching as street signs flashed passed. There were hardly any other cars on the road; the place could almost be taken for a ghost town if one didn’t know the area very well.

The Eastern Quarter was sparsely populated and no one ever really went there. It wasn’t a ‘tourist spot’, that was for sure. Very few people lived down there and, since The Creed had no centres in that part of town, Matthew never had any reason to go down there. Also, considering the numbers of residents were low, there were hardly any issues of concern going on in that part of town.

“Matt?” Zacky finally broke the silence, though his voice was notably softer than earlier.

Matthew flicked his eyes sideways, a sign that he was paying attention. “Yeah?”

“You were gonna say?”

“I haven’t spoken to Mr and Mrs Seward for six years, Zack. And I don’t know how the hell this is going to turn out.” He hated the fact that he sounded uncertain. But, it was obvious, he knew because of the look on his friend’s face. Zacky looked anxious, and that emotion was directed at Matthew, and they both knew it.

“You’re worried. You’re actually worried.”

“Yes. I am.”

Matthew decided he’d said enough, because he hit the stereo button, and the loud obnoxious voice of the state’s most notorious political commentator filled the cabin of the SUV.

“…says that Haner will probably nominate the election dates which will most likely cause the Mayor to lose face amongst the people because no one gives a rats about what he thinks anyway. And that’s the state of affairs as of yesterday’s private cabinet debate…”

Matt grimaced, muttering, “What the hell, Coop?” and changed the channel, some Mozart or Beethoven, he could never tell the difference, drowning out the other sounds in the vehicle. Johnny had fallen asleep in the back seat and was snoring softly; Zacky snorted at his friend’s inability to hold down a conversation and was sulking.

Matthew turned up the radio, the dulcet tones of a saxophone softening the atmosphere and almost lulling him into a sense of peace and security. There was an ominous undertone, though, which made him wary of the feeling. He knew it couldn’t last, whatever happened from now on. Things were going to get complicated, but if anyone could handle it…it was him. He was TaskerOne after all. And that had to amount to something.

Sighing, Matt locked his eyes on the horizon and kept driving.

* * * * *

Gravel crunched beneath the wheels of the SUV, alerting the large guard dog that was lying at the end of a ten foot long chain on the front lawn of the Seward’s residence. It lifted its head, but made no move to respond. Just stared at the three men who climbed out of the vehicle. Matthew was first, readjusting his leather jacket and sliding his shades from his face, hooking it on the neck of his tank top. Zacky got out next, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looked across to the house. Then Johnny shuffled out, sans instrument his arms folded tight over his chest.

The dog reacted then. Its head came up more as it took a big sniff of air; then it shot to its feet and dashed toward Johnny, the chain bringing it just short of the young man. Its body started waggling and it whined loudly.

“Looks like Buddy still remembers you,” Zacky mumbled. The dog had been Luke’s. He’d bought it not long before everything went down. It had been a tiny puppy then, could fit in the palm of one’s hand. Now it was the biggest dog in the street.

Johnny blinked hard before stepping closer and dropping to his knees in front of the dog. It yipped then proceeded to give him a sloppy greeting. He laughed a little, wrapping his arms around the dog’s neck. It continued to lap at his face and neck, growling and barking, in turns.

“What the hell?”

Matthew and Zacky looked toward the front door. Frank was standing there, a deep scowl set on his features. They looked at each other, and then Matt approached the older man.

“Mr Seward, I’m sorry for dropping onto your doorstep like this, but…” he paused, clearing his throat roughly, while glancing back over his shoulder.

“Who is that?” Frank, following Matthew’s gaze, nodded toward Johnny.

Matthew returned his gaze to him, his own thoughts churning. Standing in front of Luke’s father made him feel like a fucking heel to be honest. But, he couldn’t think about that now. Pushing his self-deprecating thoughts aside, he focussed on answering the question.

“It’s Johnny, sir.”

There was a brief pause; then, “Johnny?” Frank’s eyes widened, and he grabbed hold of the doorframe. His features seemed to sag, and he went pale.

Johnny looked up at his father’s exclamation taking in the elder Seward’s stunned expression. Matthew and Zacky stepped back, observing the scene in silence.

“Johnny,” Frank repeated, in a low voice. He didn’t move, though. It was as if he were glued to the spot, too shocked to do anything but stare at his younger son. Johnny straightened and took several steps toward his father.

He cleared his throat several times before he said, in an equally quiet tone, “Hey, Dad…it’s me…” Which was the bleeding obvious but he had no idea what else to say.

Frank rubbed at the bridge of his nose, then at the corner of his left eye, nodding a little. “I can see that, son.” He glanced toward Matthew and Zacky, brow furrowing. “I thought he still had a long time…” He couldn’t finish the sentence, just shook his head a hint of confusion in his expression.

Matthew said in way of explanation, “The General gave me leave to hold him outside of the Astor. He wasn’t doing too well in there.”

Frank nodded, looking back at his son. “Do you have time to come in? Your mom is cooking lunch.” He looked at Matthew again. “If that’s alright with you?”

Johnny turned his head to look at the bigger man, read the tension around his eyes. “Shads?”

“Alright.” Matt lifted his shoulders slightly. “We might as well. But, sir. If we do…this will be the only time I can allow this to happen. I don’t think bringing Johnny to see you guys is really allowed.”

Zacky snorted, speaking up for the first time since they’d got there, “Yeah, you wouldn’t want to get caught doing the wrong thing. That’d be sacrilege. You never do anything against the law.”

An awkward silence came between the men, with Matthew glaring at his friend, Johnny looking pointedly at the ground and Seward senior glancing over his shoulder into the house.

After the quiet stretched on for a long time, Frank turned to the three younger men and jerked his chin back into the house.

“Come in. Have something to eat.” He looked at Johnny. “Your mom will want to see you, son.”

“Mom,” Johnny murmured in response almost sounding incredulous. As if he couldn’t believe he was about to see her.

“Yeah, she’s missed you,” Frank said, softly.

Johnny rubbed at his face, before shooting a questioning look in Matthew’s direction. The bigger man nodded toward the door, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He was honestly pleased for the younger man, regardless of the situation. And on the inside he was hoping fervently that this visit to Johnny’s parents would help him in the short term.

“Go ahead. We’ll be right behind you.”

Johnny shoved his hands into his pockets a nervous gesture, but he smiled weakly at his father who stepped aside giving them space to enter. Johnny and Zacky headed in, nodding to him as they did so.

Matthew was the last to walk past the elder Seward. Frank stopped him in the doorway, placing a hand on one broad shoulder.

“Matt?”

“Yeah?” Matthew cocked his head to one side, meeting the elder male’s look dead on, recognising the emotions that were evident in his face, but saying nothing to that effect, just waiting.

Frank cleared his throat several times, before he said in a gruff tone, “Thank you for this…really…thank you.” He paused allowing his eyes to drift in the direction his son had gone. “You don’t realise how much this means to me…how much this will mean to his mother…” He glanced back at the young man standing before him.

Matthew looked hard at Johnny’s father, shaking his head slowly. “No. No, I have a good idea how much it means.” He licked at his lips which had gone dry in the time he’d been standing there. He was nervous as all Hell about the whole exercise, but he had known it would have a big effect on everyone concerned. Including himself.

He smiled faintly, adding, “And, you’re welcome, sir.”

Frank nodded, releasing his shoulder, and the two men followed the others into the house both anxious to see how things would work out.

Just to clarify (might be that I'm tired and verging on sick)...wasn't Johnny's bass already in the office of the locker with the Schechter? If so...what the hell did they get from downstairs? If not, then I really need to go to bed =).

Matthew was the last to walk passed the elder Seward. Should be past. Passed implies passing him like when you pass a car on the highway =).


Great chapter! I love how each chapter holds my attention and I never feel the urge to skip ahead to see how much longer to the end. I actually get sad when I see your sig come up, because it means the chapter is over.

I liked the emotions in this chapter. It's nice to see that Matt is human under all that gruff outer shell. I still think Zach should lighten up a bit on him, yet I can see where he's coming from. I just hope that Matt let's Johnny see his folks more often, even if it's just an "accidental" run in in town or something.

Go to bed and sleep it off *Hugs* the bass wasn't in the office with them. .

And thanks for that, lol...I can't believe I got that word wrong. I always get passed and past mixed up, though. It's the one word that annoys me. I actually spent ages when I first wrote that chapter thinking whether it was one or the other. Thanks .

We'll see about Johnny

Thanks

*will head to bed like a good little reader* I did also babysit my niece today and we spent two hours out running errands, then had dinner, she went for a nap, and after her nap we played hide and seek, hot and cold, you name it. I was relieved when we sat down for a snack! *laughs*

I don't know why I thought the bass was in the office with them...good to know I'm not too crazy .

I always have trouble with those as well, as well as a few others. I'm editing the sequel to my book tonight and my God....the errors! *shakes head* I don't know how someone didn't ream me for the poor quality of some of these chapters. There's a LOT of re-writing going on. So, I know how it goes.

Poor Johnny, and I might be in the minority here, but poor Matt too. He is totally out of his comfort zone, he's facing up to some of the things he has done in the past that he's not exactly happy or proud of and that's got to be hard.

I wasn't expecting Johnny's parents to be so welcoming though, but the bit with Buddy was cute (I'm a total sucker for dogs).

Haha I'm a sucker for dogs too Ciara

And it sounds like you had a busy day, Kel lol.

Thanks you guys

~~~~~~

13
Of campaigns and histories

“Valary, I think we need to add some more passion to the campaign.”

Elliott and Val were sitting in her small office, pouring over the pages of notes she had written up for the election run. They’d been there since Zacky and Matthew had left the council building. Her mind was a mess, though, which was kind of obvious when the Mayor repeated his statement about the campaign.

Val shook her head, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, and forcing her attention back to the elder man.

“Sorry, sir. More passion?”

Elliott frowned putting his pen down, and tilting his head to one side, peering at her. “Do you have something on your mind, Val? We can take a break if you wish.”

Val licked her lips, realising they had become quite dry over the period of time they’d been sitting there. However, she shook her head again. She didn’t want to stop now. If she did, she knew that her mind would just become full with anxiety for her husband and she’d never get back into it.

“No, it’s fine. Let’s just finish this bit. We’re so close.”

“Well, if you insist.”

“I do.” Val pointed out, “You were the one who said we needed to get this part done before the end of today.”

Elliott smiled, “Indeed I did.” He picked up his pen again. “Right, so how does this sound so far?” He began to read the outline of the campaign, highlighting key points as he did. Val listened and wrote notes on her copy interjecting when she felt the need to.

After about ten minutes, when Elliot finished going through the outline he commented, “I think we should get some banners made…”

Val smiled as she closed her notepad. “Already onto that, sir. My friend, Gena, her parents own a flag slash banner company, and I contacted them earlier about doing some up for a discounted rate.”

“Well, thank you, that’s one less thing I need to worry about.” Elliott looked at his watch. “I think I’m done here for now. Time for a coffee break.”

Val stood up glancing over to her purse that hung on a hook on the wall. “And, I’m going to give Matt a call…”

“Oh, yes, speaking of your husband. If you do manage to get onto him, could you ask him what it was that he ordered through my private account?”

Val blinked at the question, but nodded in response. “Of course…I can ask him.”

“But whether he tells you or not, is another thing altogether, right?” the Mayor quipped in a gentle tone.

She flushed at that, shaking her head. Val didn’t want to talk about her husband to the Mayor. Not about the way he was or the things he did or said. That wasn’t anyone’s business but hers and Matt’s. It also wasn’t her place to question the whys or wherefores about her husband’s working relationship with the Mayor or any of the town’s other authority figures. She shook her head some more, she moved toward her purse.

Elliott took the subtle hint she was giving out, and stood as well. With a slight nod, he let himself out of the office, leaving Val alone to ponder his request.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, on the other side of town things had quietened down after the riot at the Astor. It always took at least a day to settle completely, but once it did, the place seemed to run as if nothing had ever happened. At any rate, the force were back at the barracks, Dan busy going through some drills with the rookies. Usually that was Matthew’s job, but as he was off duty the younger man was running them instead.

Jason Berry would have taken on the task, but he was at headquarters chasing up a summons that had been shoved at him as soon as they arrived back at the barracks. As he strode down the hallway of the redbrick, and stopped at the door to the General’s office, Jason’s mind was racing a million miles an hour, wondering what it was Eskino wanted.

Clearing his throat several times, he then knocked on the door sharply, before he opened it, stepping through the doorway.

“Sir? You wanted to see me?”

The General turned from a stack of paperwork piled in front of him. His brow was furrowed, eyes shrewd.

“Captain Berry. Come in, have a seat.”

Jason did as commanded, sitting down and shifting on the hard surface of the single chair positioned in front of the desk. Comfort was not the purpose of the seat; the General was not interested in making his men comfortable, at least not whilst attending an audience with him.

The General took several moments as he tidied his things away, leaving one closed file on the desk in front of him. Then he leaned back against his chair, his gaze settling on Jason.

“I suppose you’re curious to know why I have called you here.”

Jason hesitated before tilting his head in acknowledgement. “Yes, sir?” He formed his response as a question, not wanting to sound like he was making an assumption.

Eskino’s lips twitched at the cautiousness of his reply. “I wanted to ask you about your commander.”

“Shadows?” Jason blinked in surprise not sure what the General wanted to say about his friend and leader. Aside from the usual comments on how Matthew needed a bit of a break he couldn’t think of any other questions Eskino could possibly want answered. Still, it wasn’t his place to question the General. All he could do was obey.

“What would you like to know?”

The General looked thoughtful, his brows coming down over his eyes. He didn’t say anything for several moments, only studied the man before him as if already coming to his own conclusions. Then when he spoke, his tone was almost curious.

“How long have you known Shadows?”

Jason blinked. That question was an odd one. Eskino never usually cared how long his men had known each other. As far as The General was normally concerned their knowledge of each other began as soon as they stepped within the walls of the barracks.

Where to start with that question was the next thing that jumped into his mind, though. Jason had known Matthew the longest out of anyone in New Huntington. But he hadn’t really known him. Bumping into him in the middle of the street and getting into fights with him couldn’t really constitute as knowing him, could it? The General would probably think so.

However, Jason decided to err on the side of caution and only said, in reply, “A long time.”

But, Eskino didn’t seem to like that answer. “I want numbers, memories, Berry. This is important.”

Jason frowned, realising he’d have to dig deep. It was not often he thought about any of the things regarding his long, convoluted friendship with the T-One. He finally found something, though.

“The first time we met…he broke my arm.” Jason shifted his weight, the chair groaning a little. “I was nine. He was ten.”

They’d known each other longer than that, by sight. But that was a moot point because he’d known the General by sight as well. Everyone knew everyone in New Huntington. But, that first time really seeing Matthew had been an eye-opener. Jason shook his head at the memory before looking at the General and continuing with the story.

“We were down at Heirrison’s Field playing baseball. I don’t remember if it was some club or school thing, but all I know he was on the opposite team to me and he was looking at me like I was dirt on his shoe.”

The General smirked. “So, I gather you weren’t friends at first?”

Jason snorted. “That’s the funny thing, sir. After he lost it at me for catching him on second base, we became real tight.” He lifted his shoulders, bracing his palms against his knees. “The only thing that really showed me was that he had a temper.”

“And, you’ve learned not to push him?”

“Exactly. He’s pretty easy going. Really. Not that it’s all that evident, lately.” Jason sighed. “Is this what you wanted to hear?”

“Yes, go on.” Eskino leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his ample chest.

Jason rubbed at his forehead, glancing down at the tattoos running along the length of his arms.

“We got our first tatts together… I remember how my parents reacted, versus his… Shads…managed to convince mine it was okay.” Jason frowned, thinking more. “We did a lot of firsts together. First drink, first cars… first time out on the shooting range.”

“You’re both the best in the Creed,” Eskino commented.

“Shadows is better on points, sir.”

“Of course.” The General decided to move the discussion along, asking, “So, when did he decide to join The Creed? And do you know why?”

Beginning to get uncomfortable, Jason fought not to stretch his legs out, satisfying himself with wriggling his toes inside his steel capped boots. That was another tough one. Matthew rarely spoke about the decisions he had made that led to his recruitment into the elite force. He had hinted at a reason early on in their joint career, but it had been almost off the cuff and Jason wasn’t certain he’d heard him right.

“I can tell you the first part. We were in senior year. He didn’t graduate, though.”

“I heard he was kicked out?”

“You know he was, sir. He’s known for killing the Headmaster.”

“Not literally?”

Jason allowed himself a little chuckle. “No. But, he vandalised some school property and caused a huge brawl on the greens at the front of the school.

“His temper flaring up again?”

Jason nodded slowly in affirmation. He knew his friend’s temper got the better of him sometimes.

“Yeah, I guess maybe that’s why he joined up. A controlled channel for his aggression. Anyway, he got kicked out shortly after, and then the headmaster had a heart attack and basically died from that.”

“Have there been many times in the past where he’s become aggressive over situations he’s been in?” Eskino asked.

Jason rubbed at his chin, thinking, memories floating around his mind, but none solid enough for him to latch on to.

He shook his head slowly. “I can’t remember anything specific. After we left school he started working out and I think that settled him down a little. No one would want to mess with him…he got pretty tanked. The tatts’ helped as well.”

General Eskino nodded, then leaned forward against the desk, propping his elbows against the surface. “Would you say Shadows’ moods have gotten worse of late?”

Jason frowned. “I wouldn’t say I’ve noticed, sir. He seems a little more tense than usual…but I would assume that’s why you’ve given him this time off?”

The General didn’t answer for a long while just gazed thoughtfully at the younger man.

Jason shifted nervously beneath his superior’s stern eyes. He wasn’t being entirely honest with either himself or the General. Matthew’s temper had surfaced quite a few more times than normal over the past season at the barracks. Luckily, only Jason and Dan had felt the brunt of it and neither of them felt inclined to mention the incidences to higher authority.

Jason always felt bad if Matthew took it out on anyone else in the corps, particularly if it were a rookie. But, it still didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it to the General. In-house was the way he liked to deal with it.

“You know it has, Berry,” Eskino finally spoke again, his voice hardening. “I know what goes on at the barracks, do not mistake me.”

Jason flinched, but managed not to show his discomfit. “I thought it best not to bother you with that. Matthew can manage…we can manage.”

“Really?” The General almost allowed a disbelieving expression on his face. “Considering I’ve given him this whole week off, which is unheard of for a TaskerOne, I find that hard to believe.” He crossed his arms and glared at Jason. “How about we try that again? Have they gotten worse?”

Jason closed his eyes for a moment before giving a barely perceptible nod. He couldn’t bring himself to speak out the words, though.

Obviously, the General didn’t need to hear them because he said, “Thank you. You can go now.”

He looked up a little surprised by the abrupt ending to the audience. “That’s it, sir?”

General Eskino narrowed his eyes at the younger man, giving a curt nod of dismissal. Jason’s brow furrowed in consternation. He felt as if there were more that needed to be said. He didn’t want to leave without knowing why they had even been talking about Matthew. It was almost a disservice to his friend, or so he believed. They were tight, and he didn’t really approve of talking about people behind their backs.

“I am sure you have duties you need to attend to.”

Jason breathed out steadily before deciding he was going to risk the General’s ire. “Yes, sir. But, may I ask something?”

The General nodded. “Of course, Berry.”

Jason paused to pull all the threads of his thoughts together, clenching his hands on his knees. He wasn’t exactly sure how to put the question without making it sound like he was making an explicit enquiry of the General.

“Berry?”

“Is there a reason we were talking about Shadows?” Jason braced for Eskino’s response.

For several minutes it didn’t seem the General would answer, but then he said in a low voice, “In confidence: I’m beginning to worry about his capability to lead the corps. And I just wanted to find out if there were anything I hadn’t figured on, before taking any action.”

Jason had to swallow back a surprised grunt at that statement. He hadn’t expected such a blunt explanation. However, he had his answer now, and he didn’t like it. It smacked of disloyalty, and the fact that he was now party to the General’s thoughts… There was nothing he could say, particularly since he didn’t agree with Eskino’s views. But, all he could do was nod and accept what his boss was saying.

“I see…” he licked his lips. Then said quietly, “I should go now.”

The General nodded. “See yourself out, Captain.”

Without preamble, Jason stood, walking out of the room into the corridor. He paused for a moment, glancing back at the door which he’d shut behind him. He was not sure what had just happened in there, but whatever it was it gave him an uneasy feeling. Part of him wanted to call his friend and tell him everything that had been said, but another was conscious that what he was told was not for Matthew’s ears. It hurt him to know that he had information that he couldn’t pass on.

Shaking his head, Jason forced those thoughts right to the back of his mind. He had to get back to work. There was no room for sentimentality. Turning on his heel, and forcing himself away from the office, he strode away, back to his duties.

Oh crud, this sounds like the shit is about to hit the fan for Matt...I just hope he doesn't take it out on Jason when he finds out, Jason was stuck between a rock and a hard place there and I feel for him.

Ugh....I don't want Matt losing his job over his temper. I just hope Jason can keep his mouth shut about this, because it won't end well if Matt finds out he was talked about behind his back.