All disclaimers and warnings still apply.
The scent trail was almost overpowering in the still forest. Tommy'd had difficulty tracking Merton at first, the trail along the highway very faint. But he still found the hearse hidden on a backroad in the middle of the woods, and after that it had been easy sailing. Merton's scent was altered slightly by extreme fear, and Mr. Dingle's scent was one Tommy couldn't concentrate on for long or he'd start growling, and that unnerved Lori, who still clung to his back.
Strangely enough, all this running wasn't wearing him down in the least. The wolf pounded through him, and it was angry, growing more so every second he followed this trail. The beast wanted blood, and Tommy was terrified of what would happen if he lost control. Not even when he was first dealing with his lycanthropy had the urge to rend living flesh been this strong. Bloodlust was driving him insane, goaded on by the hints of actual blood he'd scented - Merton's blood. Tommy ran his tongue over his fangs. If Merton was dead, he promised himself, he'd rip the older man's throat out.
The trail was getting fresher. Fear clung to everything on the path, and Tommy increased his pace. Soon. They'd find Merton soon -
" - Piss-poor excuse for a son. I've waited years for this," the hateful voice rang out clear through the trees. Then the sounds of pain and struggle. Tommy couldn't help it; he growled low in his throat, closing in on the prey, running into the clearing that was the source of the disturbance - only to see Mr. Dingle pointing the gun at Merton, prone and badly beaten on the ground not too far away.
Time seemed to slow. Tommy could sense more than see Mr. Dingle's finger tightening on the trigger, and he knew he'd never be able to make it all the way across the clearing before the gun went off, even with his incredible speed. But Merton was much closer. The instinct to protect his pack took over. Tommy dropped Lori like a sack of potatoes and flung himself between them.
X X X X X
Mr. Dingle laughed as tears fought their way out of Merton's eyes. The teen was too in shock to care, too resigned to the fact that he was not going to survive this no matter what to care that crying always made his father angrier. Vince... Vince, his childhood friend. Vince, his compatriot. Vince, the only shield he'd ever had against the man who loomed over him was ~gone~. Killed by a mad-man's bullet. Killed by the man he'd saved Merton from. Even though what he had just learned had tarnished the memories of Vince, Merton still shed tears.
"You pathetic sack of shit," Mr. Dingle said, the laughter gone as if flipped off by a switch. He grabbed Merton by the arm and yanked him to a standing position, pinning him against the tree heavily. Merton couldn't keep from crying out in pain, and for this he received another blow to the face. "Mother-fucking piss-poor excuse for a son. I've waited years for this."
Merton's father cocked the hammer and pressed the muzzle to Merton's temple with bruising force. Merton squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could and prepared himself -
- And kneed his dad in the gut while shoving the gun away with one arm. He dodged to the side quickly, doing his utter best to ignore the pain in almost every part of his body. He tried to scramble away, crawling crab-style, leaves flying up into his mouth as he made his way across the ground. He watched as his father regained his breath and balance enough to aim the gun and aim the gun. He closed his eyes and fell to the ground.
There was an incredibly loud explosion - and nothing. His face felt wet, and when he ventured a hand up to touch his face, it came away covered in blood. But... he wasn't hurt. He opened his eyes.
Tommy stood frozen between Mr. Dingle and Merton. There was a gaping hole where the right side of his chest should have been. He gave one labored breath, turning to look down at Merton, a confused look on his face. He touched the smaller entry hole uncomprehendingly, then fell to his knees. He coughed, red flying from his lips.
"Tommy!" The shout tore its way from Merton's throat, and his body was in motion before he could think. He darted over to his friend, and steadied him with both arms as the larger boy began to fall backwards. "Tommy! Tommy, hang on! Don't - "
"I'm... okay... Mer-Merton," gasped Tommy. Then he coughed weakly again, his eyes wide and inhuman yellow for a moment before all light faded from them and they became glassy. The fur on his face receded and his body relaxed into heaviness. Dead weight, Merton thought vaguely as he reached a shaking hand up to slide Tommy's eyes shut.
"Oh... my.... God..." Merton heard someone say. It wasn't him.
He dimly was aware of standing. Not only standing, but running and attacking. Then he was on the ground again, this time rolling and struggling. He punched, kicked, bit, scratched, shrieked.
"I'LL KILL YOU!! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!"
Merton put all his hate, pain, loss, and fear into the onslaught, and for a while he was winning. Then his father recovered from the shock that his weakling son was actually fighting back, and the older man's experience and superior strength returned. Soon the tide was turning for the worse again, and Merton was the one pinned to the ground, taking punch after punch. As suddenly as the rage came upon him, it was gone. Nothing mattered anymore. His two best friends were dead, killed by the same man. The same monster. He stopped struggling, determined to be the next in line.
Then there was a blood-curdling scream and the weight of his father was gone, the punching gone. Lori. Lori was standing over him, but not looking at him. Rather, her fierce eyes were focused on the man trying to crawl towards the gun that lay forgotten on the leaves. Merton found it odd that she did not try to go for the gun herself. Didn't she know that if Mr. Dingle got the gun back, he'd shoot them all as soon as the cold metal of the handle touched his palm? It was one thing if he himself died at this point. But... Lori... Not Lori. No one else that was close to him would die by this man's hand. His head swam as he pulled himself up, certain he had a concussion, if not a skull fracture. Hands were suddenly on his shoulders, supporting but restraining.
"You shouldn't try to stand," Lori murmured to him, not looking at him, eyes still fixed on Mr. Dingle, who had reached the gun.
"Lori, run," Merton said, his voice hoarse.
"Don't worry," she whispered. "I have a plan."
"This is no time for heroics! He'll kill you!"
"That's right, bitch," Mr. Dingle said, standing with the 9mm once again secure in his grip. His unnerving, distorted grin was even more menacing with his face bloodied and bruised. "You're both gonna join the other one over there - what the hell?"
He'd gestured towards where Tommy had fallen, but Merton's eyes widened when he saw that Tommy was no longer there. Then his father let out a surprised, pained noise, and Merton whipped his head back around - which nearly caused him to black out. When he regained his sight, Tommy was standing in bloody, wild, and terrible glory over Mr. Dingle's unconscious form. His face was contorted with fury and hate, but his self-restraint showed in the way he clenched his fists at his sides, his whole body taut with the effort not to rend and tear the man to shreds.
"Next time, use silver bullets," he growled, kicked the insensible man, and spat on him.
Silver...bullets? Of course. Merton began to chuckle, high and hysterical. You can't kill a werewolf with normal bullets; they heal too quickly. Only silver can kill a werewolf. He must have taken too many blows to the head to not have remembered. In fact, he knew he'd been hit on the head too many times because his vision was beginning to tunnel and fade, and the voices of his friends were also growing more distant. He was so tired. He was barely aware of Tommy and Lori bending over him before blackness overtook him completely.
X X X X X
Merton was hospitalized for two days, and spent most of his time talking either to family, the police, or counselors. Occasionally a doctor or nurse would get uppity and kick everyone out, but Merton didn't really mind the constant questioning. In fact, he wanted to get everything sorted out as soon as possible. Tommy, Lori, and he had all gotten their stories straight the minute Merton woke up during the hearse ride back into town.
They went straight to the police station, not counting the quick stop at Tommy's house for the jock to change clothes so as not to arouse suspicion. They told the truth about the notes and the confrontation in the Lair, and the only part they left out of the fight was the fact that Tommy got shot. They made it sound like Mr. Dingle just fired wild or into the air. They did include Tommy and Lori's plan that involved Lori distracting Mr. Dingle while Tommy came at him from behind. Merton had wondered where Lori had been prior to her kicking his father off of him. Now he knew that she'd seen the hole in Tommy's side knit together in seconds and then they'd both rushed into their plan.
Merton and Mr. Dingle both were taken to the hospital with escorts, and since then Merton had to give his statement. Of course, his family was notified and they dropped everything to come to his bedside. The counselors were annoying for the most part, but Merton got them to leave him alone pretty quickly by just doing what they said. Mr. Dingle, however, had proved the fact that he was not stable by raving to everyone who would listen that he had been foiled by a werewolf.
On the second day, Merton was changing - rather gingerly, because nearly every part of his body was in pain - into his favorite black pants and red-and-black shirt. His ribs were luckily only deeply bruised, not broken as he'd feared, and the only reason they'd kept him in so long was because the doctors were worried about his concussion. He hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in what seemed forever, and he still had to woken once ever hour tonight.
He tossed the hospital gown on the floor on the far side of the bed for some orderly to find, and as he shoved his feet into his sneakers, there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," he called, not looking up as whoever it was entered.
"Yo, what's up?" asked a cheerful, familiar voice. Merton finished tying his shoe and moved on to the next.
"Not a whole lot. Finally get to go home," he replied.
"Who's gonna wake you up all night long?" another voice asked, just as cheerfully.
"Dunno. My mom or dad, probably."
"Well, what about us? We could have a horror movie marathon all night," Tommy said, plopping himself on the bed.
"Yeah, and we'll even let you pick the movies," Lori added, sitting on Merton's other side.
"How generous of you," he said wryly.
"We know," Lori smirked.
Merton sighed, and the silence that fell was companionable. Before the goth could get his mind organized enough to say what he'd been really thinking about for the past couple days, Tommy spoke up.
"How're your parents taking it?" he asked quietly.
"All right, I guess. We're going in for family counseling starting two weeks from Saturday," Merton replied.
"My parents are going on and on about how sorry they are they never noticed how 'troubled' you were, and they're talking about inviting you and your family over to dinner one night," Tommy said, then snorted. "But then, we'd have to find a way to pry Dean away from the television."
"My parents are complaining more about how stupid we were just charging in and saving you when we should have called the police and let them deal with it," Lori said and rolled her eyes. "They wouldn't have known where to start."
"Well, you guys were pretty stupid," Merton said, causing both of his friends to groan. "No, really. You could have ~died.~ Hell, I thought you ~were~ dead, Tommy. Granted, I wasn't thinking properly, but I was so... so scared. If I lost either of you guys..."
He trailed off, his throat tightening at the very idea. He was still getting over the shock of Tommy taking a bullet for him. Sure, the jock had gotten him out of one supernatural fix after another, but none of them had ended with so much blood spilled. This seemed a more real danger than the various monsters and demons, maybe because they weren't fighting on even ground in this arena. When faced with monsters, Tommy was fighting fairly and naturally. But guns were cold and emotionless killing devices that couldn't be dealt with in the same reckless manner.
"A moot point," Lori pointed out firmly. "We're all still here, and we did what had to be done."
"Yeah, I know. And I want to thank you both. I... I don't know what I'd do without you guys, and not just because you're saving my bacon all the time," he said, a flush heating his cheeks. "I mean, I know I'm weird and annoying sometimes, and you guys are always there to put up with me or to tell me when I'm being stupid. You guys are the only friends I've ever had and... and if it means anything, I consider you my family. More than my mom and dad, more than Becky, you guys are my family.
"I don't know if you guys will understand how I can say that, because you've always had family to lean on, but mine... Mine gave me up a while ago. They're trying now, but it's really too little, too late. At least, it is in my opinion. But you've both been here for me... and even if you both think I'm even weirder now, I just had to let you know," he finished, staring at his hands in his lap, listening to the heavy pause, and flushing from head to toe. There, he'd said it. If they weren't freaked out enough to leave, he'd consider it a victory -
Suddenly Merton was enfolded in another double-hug as he had been only a few nights before, though this one was much more gentle, his wounds taken into consideration. Surprise filled him along with a warm feeling of acceptance and peace, and he returned the hug as best he could. Lori even kissed his bruised cheek gently.
"We're closer than family," Tommy said quietly. "We're ~pack.~"
The moment held, but eventually even the light squeeze made Merton's ribs ache, so he had to break the hug. While he got his get-well cards and other things together, Lori stood as well.
"There's only one thing that still needs to be settled then," she said. Both boys looked at her quizzically. "What happened to Vince? I mean, he ~was~ invincible, right? So how'd your dad kill him?"
Merton pondered this for a moment. Finally, he said, "Well, I was the one who created him. I stopped believing in him, so maybe he had to go by whatever his current friend believed about him. I guess my dad didn't believe he was invincible, and so was able to kill him."
"Whatever. At least now we know that they're both gone for good. The case against your father is airtight. No jury in the world will find him innocent, and he'll be shipped off to the looney bin where he belongs," Tommy snarled the last with understandable contempt.
"Yeah, but let's not think about that now. We've got some movies to pick out at Blockbuster," Lori said soothingly.
Merton grinned deviously. "I get to choose ~all~ the movies, right?"
"Yes."
As the goth began to plot with that same devious grin on his face, both Lori and Tommy winced inwardly and wondered whether that promise had been made too hastily. Still, a promise was a promise, and they led Merton from the room to where his biological family waited.
X X X X X
Mr. Dingle sat curled in on himself, rocking back and forth angrily. He'd been in this solitary box for too long. He wanted out. He had to finish what he'd started. He had to get revenge, now not only on his son, but on the werewolf and his bitch. He wanted to see their blood gushing out of wounds made by blessed silver bullets. All he had to do was get out of here. But how?
Timely as ever, there came a knock at the door. Mr. Dingle snapped his head around to look as a familiar figure slid through the door. Literally ~through~, without the thick metal door moving out of the way.
"No," gasped Mr. Dingle. "You're dead. I killed you."
A smirk. "You can't kill Vince. Vince is invincible. And you have made Vince very angry."
"Stay back," Mr. Dingle cried as the green-haired man approached menacingly.
The orderlies that came to check on him hours later found him curled in the fetal position in the corner, drooling, completely catatonic.
END
Jesus Christ, this took a long time to finish. Fuck if I know why. Maybe it was the couple hundred term papers. Ah well. It's done, and I'm finally free to move on to bigger and better things. Yay for me.
Review, please.
The scent trail was almost overpowering in the still forest. Tommy'd had difficulty tracking Merton at first, the trail along the highway very faint. But he still found the hearse hidden on a backroad in the middle of the woods, and after that it had been easy sailing. Merton's scent was altered slightly by extreme fear, and Mr. Dingle's scent was one Tommy couldn't concentrate on for long or he'd start growling, and that unnerved Lori, who still clung to his back.
Strangely enough, all this running wasn't wearing him down in the least. The wolf pounded through him, and it was angry, growing more so every second he followed this trail. The beast wanted blood, and Tommy was terrified of what would happen if he lost control. Not even when he was first dealing with his lycanthropy had the urge to rend living flesh been this strong. Bloodlust was driving him insane, goaded on by the hints of actual blood he'd scented - Merton's blood. Tommy ran his tongue over his fangs. If Merton was dead, he promised himself, he'd rip the older man's throat out.
The trail was getting fresher. Fear clung to everything on the path, and Tommy increased his pace. Soon. They'd find Merton soon -
" - Piss-poor excuse for a son. I've waited years for this," the hateful voice rang out clear through the trees. Then the sounds of pain and struggle. Tommy couldn't help it; he growled low in his throat, closing in on the prey, running into the clearing that was the source of the disturbance - only to see Mr. Dingle pointing the gun at Merton, prone and badly beaten on the ground not too far away.
Time seemed to slow. Tommy could sense more than see Mr. Dingle's finger tightening on the trigger, and he knew he'd never be able to make it all the way across the clearing before the gun went off, even with his incredible speed. But Merton was much closer. The instinct to protect his pack took over. Tommy dropped Lori like a sack of potatoes and flung himself between them.
X X X X X
Mr. Dingle laughed as tears fought their way out of Merton's eyes. The teen was too in shock to care, too resigned to the fact that he was not going to survive this no matter what to care that crying always made his father angrier. Vince... Vince, his childhood friend. Vince, his compatriot. Vince, the only shield he'd ever had against the man who loomed over him was ~gone~. Killed by a mad-man's bullet. Killed by the man he'd saved Merton from. Even though what he had just learned had tarnished the memories of Vince, Merton still shed tears.
"You pathetic sack of shit," Mr. Dingle said, the laughter gone as if flipped off by a switch. He grabbed Merton by the arm and yanked him to a standing position, pinning him against the tree heavily. Merton couldn't keep from crying out in pain, and for this he received another blow to the face. "Mother-fucking piss-poor excuse for a son. I've waited years for this."
Merton's father cocked the hammer and pressed the muzzle to Merton's temple with bruising force. Merton squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could and prepared himself -
- And kneed his dad in the gut while shoving the gun away with one arm. He dodged to the side quickly, doing his utter best to ignore the pain in almost every part of his body. He tried to scramble away, crawling crab-style, leaves flying up into his mouth as he made his way across the ground. He watched as his father regained his breath and balance enough to aim the gun and aim the gun. He closed his eyes and fell to the ground.
There was an incredibly loud explosion - and nothing. His face felt wet, and when he ventured a hand up to touch his face, it came away covered in blood. But... he wasn't hurt. He opened his eyes.
Tommy stood frozen between Mr. Dingle and Merton. There was a gaping hole where the right side of his chest should have been. He gave one labored breath, turning to look down at Merton, a confused look on his face. He touched the smaller entry hole uncomprehendingly, then fell to his knees. He coughed, red flying from his lips.
"Tommy!" The shout tore its way from Merton's throat, and his body was in motion before he could think. He darted over to his friend, and steadied him with both arms as the larger boy began to fall backwards. "Tommy! Tommy, hang on! Don't - "
"I'm... okay... Mer-Merton," gasped Tommy. Then he coughed weakly again, his eyes wide and inhuman yellow for a moment before all light faded from them and they became glassy. The fur on his face receded and his body relaxed into heaviness. Dead weight, Merton thought vaguely as he reached a shaking hand up to slide Tommy's eyes shut.
"Oh... my.... God..." Merton heard someone say. It wasn't him.
He dimly was aware of standing. Not only standing, but running and attacking. Then he was on the ground again, this time rolling and struggling. He punched, kicked, bit, scratched, shrieked.
"I'LL KILL YOU!! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!"
Merton put all his hate, pain, loss, and fear into the onslaught, and for a while he was winning. Then his father recovered from the shock that his weakling son was actually fighting back, and the older man's experience and superior strength returned. Soon the tide was turning for the worse again, and Merton was the one pinned to the ground, taking punch after punch. As suddenly as the rage came upon him, it was gone. Nothing mattered anymore. His two best friends were dead, killed by the same man. The same monster. He stopped struggling, determined to be the next in line.
Then there was a blood-curdling scream and the weight of his father was gone, the punching gone. Lori. Lori was standing over him, but not looking at him. Rather, her fierce eyes were focused on the man trying to crawl towards the gun that lay forgotten on the leaves. Merton found it odd that she did not try to go for the gun herself. Didn't she know that if Mr. Dingle got the gun back, he'd shoot them all as soon as the cold metal of the handle touched his palm? It was one thing if he himself died at this point. But... Lori... Not Lori. No one else that was close to him would die by this man's hand. His head swam as he pulled himself up, certain he had a concussion, if not a skull fracture. Hands were suddenly on his shoulders, supporting but restraining.
"You shouldn't try to stand," Lori murmured to him, not looking at him, eyes still fixed on Mr. Dingle, who had reached the gun.
"Lori, run," Merton said, his voice hoarse.
"Don't worry," she whispered. "I have a plan."
"This is no time for heroics! He'll kill you!"
"That's right, bitch," Mr. Dingle said, standing with the 9mm once again secure in his grip. His unnerving, distorted grin was even more menacing with his face bloodied and bruised. "You're both gonna join the other one over there - what the hell?"
He'd gestured towards where Tommy had fallen, but Merton's eyes widened when he saw that Tommy was no longer there. Then his father let out a surprised, pained noise, and Merton whipped his head back around - which nearly caused him to black out. When he regained his sight, Tommy was standing in bloody, wild, and terrible glory over Mr. Dingle's unconscious form. His face was contorted with fury and hate, but his self-restraint showed in the way he clenched his fists at his sides, his whole body taut with the effort not to rend and tear the man to shreds.
"Next time, use silver bullets," he growled, kicked the insensible man, and spat on him.
Silver...bullets? Of course. Merton began to chuckle, high and hysterical. You can't kill a werewolf with normal bullets; they heal too quickly. Only silver can kill a werewolf. He must have taken too many blows to the head to not have remembered. In fact, he knew he'd been hit on the head too many times because his vision was beginning to tunnel and fade, and the voices of his friends were also growing more distant. He was so tired. He was barely aware of Tommy and Lori bending over him before blackness overtook him completely.
X X X X X
Merton was hospitalized for two days, and spent most of his time talking either to family, the police, or counselors. Occasionally a doctor or nurse would get uppity and kick everyone out, but Merton didn't really mind the constant questioning. In fact, he wanted to get everything sorted out as soon as possible. Tommy, Lori, and he had all gotten their stories straight the minute Merton woke up during the hearse ride back into town.
They went straight to the police station, not counting the quick stop at Tommy's house for the jock to change clothes so as not to arouse suspicion. They told the truth about the notes and the confrontation in the Lair, and the only part they left out of the fight was the fact that Tommy got shot. They made it sound like Mr. Dingle just fired wild or into the air. They did include Tommy and Lori's plan that involved Lori distracting Mr. Dingle while Tommy came at him from behind. Merton had wondered where Lori had been prior to her kicking his father off of him. Now he knew that she'd seen the hole in Tommy's side knit together in seconds and then they'd both rushed into their plan.
Merton and Mr. Dingle both were taken to the hospital with escorts, and since then Merton had to give his statement. Of course, his family was notified and they dropped everything to come to his bedside. The counselors were annoying for the most part, but Merton got them to leave him alone pretty quickly by just doing what they said. Mr. Dingle, however, had proved the fact that he was not stable by raving to everyone who would listen that he had been foiled by a werewolf.
On the second day, Merton was changing - rather gingerly, because nearly every part of his body was in pain - into his favorite black pants and red-and-black shirt. His ribs were luckily only deeply bruised, not broken as he'd feared, and the only reason they'd kept him in so long was because the doctors were worried about his concussion. He hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep in what seemed forever, and he still had to woken once ever hour tonight.
He tossed the hospital gown on the floor on the far side of the bed for some orderly to find, and as he shoved his feet into his sneakers, there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," he called, not looking up as whoever it was entered.
"Yo, what's up?" asked a cheerful, familiar voice. Merton finished tying his shoe and moved on to the next.
"Not a whole lot. Finally get to go home," he replied.
"Who's gonna wake you up all night long?" another voice asked, just as cheerfully.
"Dunno. My mom or dad, probably."
"Well, what about us? We could have a horror movie marathon all night," Tommy said, plopping himself on the bed.
"Yeah, and we'll even let you pick the movies," Lori added, sitting on Merton's other side.
"How generous of you," he said wryly.
"We know," Lori smirked.
Merton sighed, and the silence that fell was companionable. Before the goth could get his mind organized enough to say what he'd been really thinking about for the past couple days, Tommy spoke up.
"How're your parents taking it?" he asked quietly.
"All right, I guess. We're going in for family counseling starting two weeks from Saturday," Merton replied.
"My parents are going on and on about how sorry they are they never noticed how 'troubled' you were, and they're talking about inviting you and your family over to dinner one night," Tommy said, then snorted. "But then, we'd have to find a way to pry Dean away from the television."
"My parents are complaining more about how stupid we were just charging in and saving you when we should have called the police and let them deal with it," Lori said and rolled her eyes. "They wouldn't have known where to start."
"Well, you guys were pretty stupid," Merton said, causing both of his friends to groan. "No, really. You could have ~died.~ Hell, I thought you ~were~ dead, Tommy. Granted, I wasn't thinking properly, but I was so... so scared. If I lost either of you guys..."
He trailed off, his throat tightening at the very idea. He was still getting over the shock of Tommy taking a bullet for him. Sure, the jock had gotten him out of one supernatural fix after another, but none of them had ended with so much blood spilled. This seemed a more real danger than the various monsters and demons, maybe because they weren't fighting on even ground in this arena. When faced with monsters, Tommy was fighting fairly and naturally. But guns were cold and emotionless killing devices that couldn't be dealt with in the same reckless manner.
"A moot point," Lori pointed out firmly. "We're all still here, and we did what had to be done."
"Yeah, I know. And I want to thank you both. I... I don't know what I'd do without you guys, and not just because you're saving my bacon all the time," he said, a flush heating his cheeks. "I mean, I know I'm weird and annoying sometimes, and you guys are always there to put up with me or to tell me when I'm being stupid. You guys are the only friends I've ever had and... and if it means anything, I consider you my family. More than my mom and dad, more than Becky, you guys are my family.
"I don't know if you guys will understand how I can say that, because you've always had family to lean on, but mine... Mine gave me up a while ago. They're trying now, but it's really too little, too late. At least, it is in my opinion. But you've both been here for me... and even if you both think I'm even weirder now, I just had to let you know," he finished, staring at his hands in his lap, listening to the heavy pause, and flushing from head to toe. There, he'd said it. If they weren't freaked out enough to leave, he'd consider it a victory -
Suddenly Merton was enfolded in another double-hug as he had been only a few nights before, though this one was much more gentle, his wounds taken into consideration. Surprise filled him along with a warm feeling of acceptance and peace, and he returned the hug as best he could. Lori even kissed his bruised cheek gently.
"We're closer than family," Tommy said quietly. "We're ~pack.~"
The moment held, but eventually even the light squeeze made Merton's ribs ache, so he had to break the hug. While he got his get-well cards and other things together, Lori stood as well.
"There's only one thing that still needs to be settled then," she said. Both boys looked at her quizzically. "What happened to Vince? I mean, he ~was~ invincible, right? So how'd your dad kill him?"
Merton pondered this for a moment. Finally, he said, "Well, I was the one who created him. I stopped believing in him, so maybe he had to go by whatever his current friend believed about him. I guess my dad didn't believe he was invincible, and so was able to kill him."
"Whatever. At least now we know that they're both gone for good. The case against your father is airtight. No jury in the world will find him innocent, and he'll be shipped off to the looney bin where he belongs," Tommy snarled the last with understandable contempt.
"Yeah, but let's not think about that now. We've got some movies to pick out at Blockbuster," Lori said soothingly.
Merton grinned deviously. "I get to choose ~all~ the movies, right?"
"Yes."
As the goth began to plot with that same devious grin on his face, both Lori and Tommy winced inwardly and wondered whether that promise had been made too hastily. Still, a promise was a promise, and they led Merton from the room to where his biological family waited.
X X X X X
Mr. Dingle sat curled in on himself, rocking back and forth angrily. He'd been in this solitary box for too long. He wanted out. He had to finish what he'd started. He had to get revenge, now not only on his son, but on the werewolf and his bitch. He wanted to see their blood gushing out of wounds made by blessed silver bullets. All he had to do was get out of here. But how?
Timely as ever, there came a knock at the door. Mr. Dingle snapped his head around to look as a familiar figure slid through the door. Literally ~through~, without the thick metal door moving out of the way.
"No," gasped Mr. Dingle. "You're dead. I killed you."
A smirk. "You can't kill Vince. Vince is invincible. And you have made Vince very angry."
"Stay back," Mr. Dingle cried as the green-haired man approached menacingly.
The orderlies that came to check on him hours later found him curled in the fetal position in the corner, drooling, completely catatonic.
END
Jesus Christ, this took a long time to finish. Fuck if I know why. Maybe it was the couple hundred term papers. Ah well. It's done, and I'm finally free to move on to bigger and better things. Yay for me.
Review, please.