Marty Lee carried a passed out Lucas over his shoulder. They entered their house and Marty Lee made his way into Lucas's room so he could drop him on his bed. After a night of heavy drinking and partying, Lucas had finally passed his limit. Something he found on a regular basis of late.

Marty Lee pulled Lucas's shoes off and threw a cover over him before he sat down and shook his head in disappointment. He returned to Merlow with the intent of starting a new life with Lucas. He'd let go of his past, his mistakes, his transgressions in the hope of a brighter future with more open and warm relationships. He did not however, bank on Lucas becoming the distraught drunk and angry person he'd become since his former boyfriend's departure from Merlow.

Though Marty Lee understood Lucas's guilt, he didn't believe it was worth holding onto. Though it wasn't his place to forgive Lucas, he truly believed Lucas had suffered enough. As much as he respected Storm's decision to leave, he no longer respected the state in which he'd left Lucas. He didn't respect the amount of guilt left upon Lucas's shoulders.

"You have to let it go." Marty Lee whispered with a soft sigh, "You have to let him go."

Lucas turned onto his side and mumbled in his sleep, "Storm ..."

Marty Lee patted Lucas's shoulder and stood up. He had the sinking sensation that perhaps, just perhaps, Lucas would never get over Storm. Knowing how stubborn Storm was, and how capable he was of leaving loved ones behind, he knew that fact did not bode well for Lucas at all.

* * * * * * *

"Hey." Josh said softly with a smile as he sat down upon Brad's bed.

Brad opened his eyes and smiled up at Josh. The two shared a glance of acknowledgement before Brad moved his hand over Josh's. Josh gulped and bit his lip. His relationship with Brad was still as undefined as ever, and yet it was as potent as any relationship he'd known in his life.

Brad's father had lost custody of both his sons after his violent outburst. His troubles were his own now and Josh cared nothing for them, legal or moral. Jeremiah Sisto was a man Josh wanted nothing more to do with, nor did he care to give him much more thought at all. Right now all he could think of was Brad. Brad, who was now a resident in the Marcus household, courtesy of Dade.

"Fancy meeting you here." Brad whispered, having had an afternoon nap.

He had recovered significantly from his injuries, and he attributed this mainly to Josh. His younger brother was in the care of Josh's parents, which Brad appreciated because it meant he could still watch over and spend time with him. Brad had found his own appreciation of Josh and in a very strong sense of the word, love, grow even more in the last few months. He did not believe that were even possible given how much he already respected and loved Josh. They were friends, the best of friends, but there was something entirely more intimate, if only spiritually, in their relationship now.

"How you feeling today?" Josh asked, brushing the now long locks from Brad's forehead, "You look good."

"I feel fine." Brad replied, "I feel better than fine. I'll just get changed and maybe we can do some weights in the basement?"

"Where's Dade and Claire?"

"Gone to the clinic. Just a scheduled checkup. They'll be out for a while."

"Do you ... do you like staying here? I've been talking to my parents and ..." Josh began to say before Brad interrupted him.

"You're going to college at the end of the school year. I'm not going to ruin that." Brad said, "We've talked about this. I'm fine, Josh. I want you to go."

"Why don't you come too? You could try for a scholarship. Your grades are good enough."

"My bank account isn't." Brad sighed, but smiled ruefully, "I belong here. I'll be the last one here when everyone else is gone."

"I'm thinking I'll just go to college here in Merlow." Josh said, biting his lip, "I want to stay with you."

Brad smiled in reply and smirked a little, "We're so gay."

"I wish." Josh laughed and lay down next to Brad so they could both stare up at the ceiling together.

"I do love you." Brad said sincerely, still covering Josh's hand with his own, "And we are gay."

Brad wasn't entirely sure if he meant that in the homosexually gay sense of the word, but he was gay with Josh in the happy sense. He'd experienced an epiphany in the last few months. A realization that going through a day without seeing Josh was a day he wasn't entirely happy. Josh had been his constant companion in his recovery. A steadfast rock for Brad. Their relationship was already strong before Brad's assault from his father, and it was even stronger since.

He knew he loved Josh. Yet what he was rapidly finding himself contemplating was the notion that perhaps he was 'in love' with Josh. He thought less and less about girls who could become his constant companion or first time sexual encounter. He thought more and more about Josh and how he somehow craved the close bond and intimacy they shared, even though it never crossed a certain level of physical contact. They depended on each other. They loved each other. In the truest sense of the word, Brad loved Josh.

Josh leaned over and propped himself up on his elbow as he looked at Brad, "Are we?"

Brad felt a slight flutter of anxious excitement inside before he nodded and smiled, "Maybe just a little. I'm happy at least. Original meaning of gay, right? As for the other meaning, well ..."

* * * * * * *

Dade sat in class, trying his best to pay attention to what was being taught. He absorbed all the data being dispensed to him by his teacher but his mind was elsewhere. School no longer held the same import to him as it once did. Of course he realized the importance of his education, but the once seemingly important aspects of the school daily life and social politics seemed inconsequential compared to the prospect of becoming a father.

"What kind of a person am I?" Dade asked himself absently.

His assignment was a paper detailing the inner workings of a fictional character. Yet in the process he found himself self analyzing instead. He began to wonder what virtues he possessed that would make him a worthy father. In his own mind he'd failed as both a son and a brother. Becoming a father was a chance for him to put the mistakes of the past behind him and start anew.

At first he'd been content to give Storm what he wanted. Content to let his only brother and once best friend leave his life perhaps forever. Yet now he found himself growing increasingly ill at ease with having such a great shame still resting upon him. He needed to state his remorse for the crimes committed against his brother. Perhaps crimes they'd committed against each other. He needed forgiveness. Most of all, he needed to know he was still worthy in his brother's eyes. He needed his brother's love. For in gaining such love back he believed he would be doing his mother proud. He would be redeeming himself in her eyes.

"Mom." Dade sighed, feeling a tinge of emotion stinging his eyes at the thought of her.

He left class that day with his mind on his family. On issues of the past. He arrived home to find Claire resting in the lounge. He sat down beside her, pulling her back into his lap so he could hold her.

"Hey." He smiled, kissing the side of her neck, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. I just finished a period early today." Claire replied, settling back against Dade, "How are you?"

"I'm fine." Dade said, sighing a little.

Claire remained silent for a while before she covered Dade's hands over her stomach and turned to kiss his cheek. She leaned against him and closed her eyes.

"Something wrong?" She asked softly.

"I think I want to try and find Storm. I want to try and make things right with him. I have to at least try. So that when our baby grows up and asks about their uncle, I can at least say I tried to bring him back into our lives. I want Storm to be a part of this. A part of our lives again. I have to try." Dade said a little dejectedly, "Mom would want me to."

"She would." Claire agreed, "She really would."

"Do you mind if I try?" Dade asked, interlacing his fingers with hers, "We're in this together now. I don't want to do anything that might upset you."

"I don't mind." Claire insisted, "Like you said. You have to at least try. Just ... don't let it consume you, ok? I know you love your brother but like you said, we're in this together. You have to put it in perspective. We have a baby to look after."

"I hear you." Dade sighed, frowning a little.

"I'm sorry. I want you to try. Of course I do. I want Storm to be here for this too, but I don't want you getting caught up in all of this and getting overwhelmed by it."

"Alright." Dade nodded, "I won't let it consume me. But I have to try."

"I know, I know." Claire sighed, shifting away from Dade, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. You do what you need to do. Try and find him. Try and find your brother. You have to do it. Not just for you, but for us. So find him ..."

* * * * * * *

Marty Lee arrived home from the dojo to find the living room stinking of alcohol and littered with empty beer bottles. He turned his nose up at the stench and frowned at Lucas who laughed drunkenly at him. Taking a seat beside him, Marty Lee showed his disdain visibly.

"It's a school night." Marty Lee said with a tired sigh, "What the hell are you doing?"

"What I want." Lucas replied bluntly.

"How about you don't do what you want for one night and do what I want instead?" Marty Lee asked tiredly, snatching the bottle from Lucas's hand, "Think your parents want to find out their son turned their house into a bar?"

"Oh go away." Lucas moaned, waving Marty Lee away dismissively, "I'm the boss here. Just fuck off and leave me alone."

"Come on, Lucas. It's been months. Why can't you just get over it? Why can't you just get over him?" Marty Lee sighed, a little irritated, "Is he really worth all this shit you're doing to yourself? Do you think he even cares anymore? Doesn't this drunk shit get old after a while?"

"I had no idea you'd turn into my mother." Lucas said in a drunken drawl, "Gimmie a break. I'm just having some fun."

"Right." Marty Lee said flatly, "Fun. Well you carry on having fun on your own. I'm going to bed."

"Party pooper." Lucas groaned, "You're no fun."

"Neither are you these days."

"Oh well." Lucas sighed, eyes somber and serious as he opened another bottle of beer and took a large swig, "That's life."

"Unfortunately." Marty Lee said as he stood to his feet and sighed, "Goodnight, Lucas."

"Night, Dude." Lucas said, glancing up at Marty Lee dejectedly, "Have a good one."

Marty Lee nodded and left the room, feeling deflated at seeing Lucas continue to spiral into something he feared was bordering on alcoholism. At the very least it wasn't healthy. Lucas's lifestyle was impacting on the relationships he had with others, with his schooling, with his sports. Though Marty Lee would often be considered the last person to 'give a shit', he felt he owed Lucas. Perhaps even more than that, he simply cared enough for Lucas to want more for him than he currently had. Lucas was the closest thing he had to family in Merlow.

"You have to help, Storm." Marty Lee said as he sat down at his desk and frowned softly.

Deciding he'd had enough of seeing Lucas almost destroy himself, he made the choice to act. His own efforts were failing after months of hoping Lucas might come around and trying to nudge Lucas in the right direction. He was still a Miller. He still had his name. He still had vast resources. It was time to put them to use.

"Where are you, Storm?" Marty Lee asked himself as he searched through his mobile phone's contact list for a name to start asking questions of.

He knew Dade and Storm hadn't talked since Storm's departure, so there was little point asking him. After eliminating Dade from the list of people he could possibly contact for information he immediately thought of one name. There was always Mike and Sarah, but somehow he felt uncomfortable calling them for this purpose. That left him with his one name once again.

* * * * * * *

"Hello?" Marcel said as he answered his phone.

He let out a small yawn and lay back on his lounge suite. His apartment was draped in darkness, with Marcel having been woken from his slumber by the phone call.

"Hey ..." Dade said, biting his lip awkwardly, "It's me. It's ... it's Dade."

"Dade ..." Marcel said, letting out a sigh of both disbelief and quiet delight at hearing Dade's voice, "It's ... it's been a long time."

"Too long." Dade said honestly, "I ... I just didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to ... after everything that happened between us, between me and Storm."

"History now." Marcel said, lips curled halfway between a smile and a frown, "It really has been too long, Dade."

"How ... how are you?" Dade asked, beginning to slowly relax as the conversation continued, "How's training?"

"It's good, Dade. It's really good. I'm flying to Australia next week for the Ironman comps." Marcel said, his face becoming serious, "How's Claire holding up?"

"She's holding up well. I still can't believe I'm going to be a father, you know?" Dade said, once more feeling a little awkward, "Do you know if ... Storm knows?"

"I don't think he knows."

"Do you ... do you know where he is, Marcel? I really want to talk to him. I need to talk to him."

"Storm's a popular guy today." Marcel said curiously, "And so am I since everyone assumes I know where he is."

"What are you talking about?" Dade asked confused.

"You're the second person today to call me asking for Storm."

"Who else called?" Dade asked curiously, "And more importantly, did you tell them? Can you tell me?"

"Sorry, Dade. I just don't know. I haven't spoken to or heard from him since he left months ago."

"Please." Dade pleaded softly, his voice sounding a little anxious, "Please. I thought I was ok letting him go. I thought I could respect his right to stay away, but ... I just can't. I have to try. I shouldn't have waited this long but I thought I was doing right by him, you know? But I don't want my child being born without Storm there. I need him here. I need him to know I've changed. I have to speak to him."

"I can't help you, Dade. I'm sorry." Marcel sighed, "You have as much idea as I do as to where he might be. He's just ... gone."

* * * * * * *

Dade sat in bed, watching Claire sleep. He couldn't sleep himself. His mind was too full of thought. Too full of anxiety.

He slid out of bed, making his way down to the basement. The gym Mike had made for everyone now also doubled as Dade's personal space to write and practice his music. Though he'd given it away for a while, he'd picked it up with a fervor ever since he and Claire had decided to try and make a life together.

For some time he had a tune in his head. He picked up his guitar and started strumming the chords to the song inside his head. A song that talked about his life, his loss, his hope now that his baby was on its way into the world.

Walking, stumbling, on these weary feet

Toward a distant home that I've never seen

I am changing, less and less angry

Made of different stuff than when I began

And I have sensed it all along

Fast approaching is the day

When the world is falling out from under me

I'll be found in you, still standing

When the sky falls up, and mountains fall on their knees

When time and space are through

I'll be found in you

There's distraction, buzzing in my head

Saying in the shadows, it's easy to stay

I've heard rumors of true reality

Whispers of a better way

When the world is falling out from under me

I'll be found in you, still standing

When the sky falls up and mountains fall on their knees

When time and space are through

I'll be found in you

You make all things new

You make all things new

You make all things new

You make all things ... you make all things ...

When the world is falling out from under me

I'll be found in you, still standing

When the sky falls up and mountains fall on their knees

When time and space are through

I'll be found in you

Dade finished the song and stared at an ultrasound of his baby that he'd pinned to the wall. He let out a soft smile before he put his guitar down and made his way back upstairs to his bedroom. He slid into bed with Claire and pulled the blanket back to place a kiss upon her round stomach.

"Thank you." He whispered, sighing contently, "Thank you."

* * * * * * *

"I said run the fucking test!" Lucas yelled angrily at some of his teammates.

True to his word, he was making some of the team do the beep test once more. One of the most grueling tests you could run in football training, or any training for that matter. The team had become less of a co-captaincy and more of a Lucas as captain, Josh as vice-captain team. This was merely because of Lucas's sheer force of personality.

Though he had a growing reputation as a drunk off the field, he was still respected and feared as a sometimes brutal leader on the field. This was not the team of old, where Mike Mitchell would lead the team with more of a family type atmosphere.

"I can't do any more." Bobby Weiss gasped, almost doubling over from exhaustion.

"Then get the fuck off the field. You're on the bench this week." Lucas snapped, glaring at Bobby, "Anyone else too fucking weak? Anyone else want to warm up the bench this week?"

Josh narrowed his eyes at Lucas as he stood beside him, but he remained silent. He knew that he would either have to accept the changes Lucas had made to the team, or he would have to make a move against him. Lucas would either create the most disciplined team ever, or destroy the team.

Josh was by no means soft when it came to football. He could be as blunt and brutal as Lucas. Yet he felt he tempered himself far better than Lucas did. He felt he had more balance in his leadership qualities.

"Run the test." Josh said finally, staring right back at some of his dumbfounded teammates, "You heard him. Run the test or warm the bench."

A few grunts and growls were heard by those who had to run the test again. Lucas turned to Josh and raised an eyebrow at him in surprise. Josh stared point blank at Lucas, his eyes steely and not impressed in the slightest.

"Co-captains don't work. This is going to stop. Next week, the team chooses one captain." Josh said bluntly, "You're not a leader, you're an asshole with issues."

Lucas stepped up to Josh so the two were almost nose to nose, their eyes locked on one another. Neither backed off from the stare down until Lucas raised the whistle to his lips and blew it, signaling the start of the test. Even then the two captains regarded each other begrudgingly.

"One week." Josh said ominously.

"One week."

* * * * * * *

Lucas cursed in frustration as he walked into his living room and flopped down on the lounge suite. Josh had made the challenge. Lucas didn't believe Josh had it in him.

He pulled his backpack off and pulled out his homework. Staring at it blankly for some time, Lucas finally started tending to his homework. He walked into the kitchen to grab him a beer and stood at the fridge for a few moments, sighing despondently.

"Do I really need you?" Lucas asked, his eyes rather sad and lonesome.

He closed the fridge and turned away, feeling a little rush of emotion overwhelm him. He didn't want to face the world. He didn't want to face his own feelings. His face was embittered with anguish and tears began falling silently down his cheeks. He leaned his head against the wall and let out a small sob.

"I miss you." He cried, pained and emotionally exhausted, "I still miss you."

He cried bitterly to himself as he slumped down at the kitchen table. He laid his head down on the table and sighed, closing his eyes and remembering a life long past now. A life he'd give anything to have back again. Unfortunately for him, he knew life was far too cold and cruel to give him what he wanted, what he felt he couldn't live without.

"Yes." Lucas said as he suddenly stood up and moved to the fridge, pulling out a cold bottle of beer, "I do need you."


On to Chapter 5.03
"Marcel's the Best"

Back to Chapter 5.01
"When the War is Over"

Chapter Index

Storm Front is © 1998-2011 by SF Writer (Tyrel "Rock" Wolf)
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