"The nationals aren't far away, Boss." Wendell said as he approached Dade during training, "Feeling confident?"

Dade frowned thoughtfully, hands on his hips, "I'm not sure, Bud. I'm not really sure it's at the top of my priorities list these days."

"Come on, you have to be excited. Don't dismiss this, Man. It's such a huge opportunity." Wendell said enthusiastically, "I mean, Storm practically killed all these years trying to get to this point and you're the one who made it. You've gotta go for it."

"Right." Dade sighed dejectedly.

As if he needed another reminder of his brother, or what he'd taken from him. Though he tried to tell himself he was simply the better man and he deserved this chance, part of him couldn't help the sense of betrayal in his heart. He feigned a smile at Wendell,

"I better make sure I win then, huh?" Dade said, giving his trademark cocky smirk, though it was only skin deep this time.

"That's the spirit, Boss." Wendell smiled, "Bring it home, Man. Bring it home."

"Yeah." Dade said, turning to glance at the calendar that showed the nationals were less than a month away, "Bring it home ..."

At the end of the evening, when the dojo should have been empty, Dade found one straggler who didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave. He smiled softly as he approached them from behind.

"Don't you have a home to go to?" Dade asked genially, "I do have to lock up, you know."

"Benefits of being the man now." Marty Lee said softly, staring at one of the trophy cases.

"Everything ok?" Dade asked worriedly, sensing a hesitation on Marty Lee's part to leave the dojo.

In many ways, Dade felt he'd jumped the cue in taking Storm's place as first of the dojo. It really should have been Marty Lee in his opinion. Marty Lee had more success besides Dade's single regionals title win. He'd also developed a mentor like role with the students. This was something that Dade still found himself adjusting to.

The worst part for Dade about his ascension was the fact that Marty Lee had drawn himself away from a leadership role in the dojo. This was incredibly surprising, and quite distressing for Dade since he'd hoped Marty Lee would partner with him to run the dojo. Especially now that Sensei Takada took less of an active role in the dojo. Unfortunately, Marty Lee relegated himself to the position of observer most of the time. He barely even competed in friendlies.

"I miss Storm." Marty Lee said honestly.

"You miss Storm?" Dade asked in surprise, "I'm amazed you can miss anyone. Doesn't that require a heart?"

Marty Lee smirked softly, "Ahh yes, that's right. How silly of me."

Dade sighed and stepped forward beside Marty Lee, "I miss him too." He conceded.

"This place seems ... empty without him here. Too different for me, I think."

"I'm sorry." Dade said sincerely, "I'm sorry everything's changed."

"Are you?" Marty Lee asked with a raised eyebrow, turning to face Dade, "Isn't this what you always wanted?"

"Yes." Dade said honestly, "But I realized too late that it wasn't what I needed."

Marty Lee nodded in understanding before he sighed and turned back to face the trophies, "I think I'm going to retire from the dojo."

"What?" Dade gasped in genuine surprise, "What are you talking about? You can't leave. Look if it's about me having the top spot, I'll talk to Sensei."

"It's not that. It's just ... I don't have the same drive I used to."

"It's because Storm's not here. It's because I'm here and you resent getting passed over for me." Dade said, frowning unhappily, "Please don't leave."

"Thought you'd be glad to see the back of me." Marty Lee replied.

"Things change." Dade said simply, "I want you to stay on. Please."

"I'll think about it." Marty Lee said, picking up his bags, "I'll let you know what I decide."

"Is that what's bothering you?" Dade asked, "You've been ... odd for a while now. Is it just me?"

"It's not just you."

"is it something I can help with?"

Marty Lee shook his head dejectedly, "No. it's a ... family matter. Goodbye, Dade."

Dade watched sadly as Marty Lee left, wondering if he really was going to quit. There was little love lost between them, but Dade truly believed Marty Lee was an asset to the dojo. He couldn't let him just leave like this. Something had to be done.

* * * * * * *

"Hey, you ok?" Brad asked Claire as she meandered through the door, grocery bags in hand.

Brad rushed to take the bags off her, before realizing that Jacob was behind her. Jacob also carried several bags in his hands and followed Brad into the kitchen. They packed away the items, remaining mostly silent as they worked. Brad still felt a little out of place in the household, even though Claire and Dade did their best to make him feel welcome.

The truth was, the house was still adjusting to the new order of things. Daniel Sr. stopped by when he could, but Dade was old enough now to take more of the responsibility of the house. Thankfully June had left Dade with more than enough money to support himself and his coming family, but Daniel Sr. also made a pointed effort to ensure Dade was taken care of financially. Storm was still the legal owner of the house, but no one expected him to cause any problems for Dade, even given their troubled history.

Dade knew Storm might very well have cut himself off, but he also knew part of Storm would want Dade's young family to live in the Marcus house. It may seem contradictory, but then Dade knew Storm could very well be just that.

Dade himself entered the house last of all, carrying a large box that he took with him upstairs. With Claire also upstairs, this left Brad and Jacob in the kitchen alone. Brad felt a little out of place, like he was intruding on the household. Yet he had his own reasons for staying here. The biggest of which was Dade's insistence that he stay. The other was one he didn't feel obliged to share right now.

"So ... how's school?" Jacob asked, trying to break the silence between them as they packed the groceries away.

"It's good, yeah." Brad replied, "How's White Swan?"

"Still White Swan." Jacob smirked, shrugging, "Same old, same old."

Brad nodded and felt inclined to leave the conversation at that. Jacob had become a more frequent visitor to the house. He was always worrying about Claire, and to Brad it was obvious that Jacob and Dade didn't have the greatest relationship either.

"How's Josh?" Jacob asked innocently.

It might have seemed innocent, but it almost caused Brad to drop the bottle of milk he was packing away. He turned to Jacob, mouth agape before he put the bottle in the fridge and closed it. He shrugged and returned to his packing, hoping the line of questioning would end there. It didn't.

"He really cares about you." Jacob said, helping Brad with the last bag of groceries before he took a seat on a bench stool.

"Yeah." Brad said awkwardly, unable to busy himself with grocery packing now.

He moved away from Jacob, hoping to make an exit and drop the matter. Jacob was a nice guy though. Not someone Brad would've talked to during his reign of terror at Merlow High. However, Brad was much different now. He was more thoughtful, more courteous, and most of all, less prone to caring about what anyone thought about him.

He stopped in his tracks and turned to Jacob, giving a half smile, "He is great, isn't he?"

Jacob smiled broadly, as if he'd won the lotto. He nodded his head excitedly and patted the bench across from him. Brad took the hint and after a moment of hesitation he sat down opposite Jacob.

"Everything said here stays here." Jacob promised, zipping his lips, "But I'm as curious as a cat."

"Would that make you a pussy?" Brad smirked mischievously, unable to help himself.

"Burn!" Jacob laughed heartily, mock offended.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself." Brad grinned.

"Now I deserve to know what's going on between you two."

Brad frowned thoughtfully, not sure how to answer, "Nothing."

"So it's normal for a guy to climb in your window at night and give you a cuddle?"

Brad shrugged, not really that fazed by the question, "There's really nothing to say. We're close, but ... not that close."

"Boring." Jacob frowned, "So there's really nothing going on between you two? You're just both two non-homosexual homosexuals?"

"I'm not really a homosexual." Brad grinned, "I just ... I dunno. I like Josh. He's my friend."

"That's disappointing. There go all my fantasies." Jacob said with a pout, "Dade told me that he caught Josh climbing in your window one night. He said Lucas used to do the same thing with Storm."

"I'm sure they got up to much different activities than Josh and I."

"Clearly." Jacob sighed, "There's not enough slash in this town anymore!"

"Slash?"

"Homosexuals! I mean, you know, surely with this town's population, there must be at least like twenty gay guys in your school. Not including uncertains or experimentals."

"Or bisexuals." Brad pointed out, "It's not just about the gay folk, you know."

"True, true." Jacob shrugged, "You know, I'm supposedly homosexual, but I might as well be asexual."

"No receiver to catch your pitch?" Brad teased playfully, "I thought you and Psycho Nuts were ... I dunno, had potential."

"His name is Marty Lee." Jacob corrected.

"Like I said, Psycho Nuts." Brad replied, "And nothing you say will ever make me think otherwise."

"He's a cute psycho then, but you know, we're not really anything, let alone even friends. I'm not sure what the deal is. I want there to be more, but I just don't think he's really interested."

"You ever tried asking him outright?" Brad suggested, "Tell him you don't think he deserves any offspring and you'd love to start a homosexual relationship with him to prevent that."

"That's different, at least." Jacob agreed, standing up, "I'll do a trade with you."

"What's that?"

"I'll ask Marty Lee out if you tell me honestly how you feel about Josh." Jacob said, moving around to sit beside Brad, "The honest truth."

"Honestly?" Brad asked, taking a deep breath, "Well ... wait. You ask Marty Lee out first and then I'll tell you!"

"Hey!" Jacob laughed, protesting, "That's cheating!"

"Oh well. I'm the original bad guy, remember?" Brad chuckled, standing up and wincing suddenly.

Jacob quickly moved to support Brad, eyes laced with concern. He helped Brad into his chair and checked him over. Brad's beating at the hands of his father had been severe to say the least. Even though Brad had made incredible progress, he still bore some of the effects of that incident. His dream of playing football again was essentially over, as he was still having trouble with walking for any length of time. He was prone to dizzy flashes and tensile attacks in his midsection. The only reason he could even walk now was because of the unending support Josh had given him. In fact, the memory of Josh's support made Brad pause for thought. He raised his head to Jacob and spoke plainly,

"I think I'm in love with him." Brad said honestly.

"What?" Jacob asked, still focused on Brad's welfare.

When Jacob realized what Brad meant his eyes went wide and he smiled softly, rubbing Brad's arm. He sympathized with Brad, sensing that Brad still had issues with that 'love'. He gave Brad a reassuring smile and gave him a one armed hug.

"Don't get hung up on what love is supposed to be. I know you're not like me. Just follow this." He said, tapping Brad's chest, "And try not to think too much."

"I still don't want to have butt sex." Brad said with a sudden grin.

"Well we'll work on that, ok?" Jacob chuckled, "Josh is a hottie. If he can't get you psyched up for some man love, no one can."

"It's not what I want!" Brad laughed, shaking his head, "Well ... I don't know. To be honest, it doesn't really faze me. I'm a guy, you know? My dick will harden for a gumboot if it has to. I just ... with Josh ... I ... feel ..."

"Am I interrupting a touchy feely session?" Dade smirked as he walked into the room, wiping his brow.

He opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of Orange Juice before taking a large swig. He sat down next to Brad, yawning slightly.

"Jacob, stop trying to hit on Brad." Dade teased, staring at Jacob.

"Oh fuck off." Jacob growled, scrunching his nose at Dade, "We were actually having a serious conversation."

"Good thing I turned up then!" Dade grinned.

Brad groaned and shook his head. Jacob and Dade were consistently at odds. Everything Dade did seemed to annoy Jacob and Dade didn't seem to care one bit. Dade was past trying to gain Jacob's favour.

"And to think I thought you were hot." Jacob growled, narrowing his eyes, "Carl is twice the man you are!"

Dade rolled his eyes as Jacob stormed out of the kitchen. Brad sighed and tilted his head down so he could looked up at Dade, frowning.

"Oh stop it." Dade chuckled, "It's not my fault he's so freaking touchy."

"Dade, he's going to be around for the rest of your life."

"Oh don't remind me." Dade droned, letting his forehead hit the bench, "He's just lucky he's Claire's brother, otherwise I would've banned him from my house and beaten him up already."

"Speaking of beating people up, how are you feeling about the nationals?" Brad asked curiously, "You know I'm coming to watch."

"Of course I do." Dade smiled, putting his arm around Brad's shoulder, "Is your boyfriend coming?"

"Oh geez, not you too." Brad said, rolling his eyes as he stood up, "For the last time, Josh is not my boyfriend!"

"Right ..." Dade smirked as Brad turned to leave the room, "Just remember, if you swallow, it's love, if you spit, it's disgusting!"

"Well thank you!" Brad yelled from the passageway, "I really needed to know that!"

* * * * * * *

Carl stood on the sidelines, catching his breath after finishing a set of press drills. The entire team was on edge, after learning that today they would vote on who would become the sole Captain of the team. No more co-captaincy. Josh had laid down the challenge to Lucas. For most of the team, it felt like their parents were arguing.

"It was never like this when Mike was captain." Carl gasped, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Guess you don't know what you've got till it's gone, huh?" Dade replied, catching his own breath as he stood beside Carl.

Carl turned his gaze on Dade with a look of mild indignation, "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Dade quickly realized just how Carl might have taken what he just said and quickly moved to correct himself, "No! I didn't mean it like that, Carl. I just meant Mike, that's all."

Carl sighed and shook his head, "Ok. Sorry." He sighed, though he wasn't really sure if he meant it.

"Sorry." Dade said, hand squeezing Carl's shoulder.

Carl turned to Dade, his face impassive, "How's my princess?" He asked softly.

"She's ok." Dade assured, "I'm taking care of her."

"Good." Carl said simply, "Good."

Carl left it at that, not wishing to argue any further with Dade. He'd long convinced himself he was settled on Claire's choice to be with Dade, but he wasn't settled at all. She still occupied his thoughts on a daily basis and part of himself felt a surreal emotion that he'd not often entertained; resentment. He resented Dade Marcus.

Dade had taken away his princess and his best friend. The thought of it made Carl feel bitter inside. A feeling that Carl despised having. He'd worked so hard to make peace with both Dade and Claire but still the sense of betrayal pervaded his waking moments.

For what now seemed so brief a time, he had it all. He had his girl, Claire, and they were happy. Even when he learned of her pregnancy, he didn't care. He felt love. He felt older than his years. But it wasn't to be. Because Dade took her away.

It was bad enough that Dade had driven away his own brother and Carl's best friend, Storm, but then to lose his girl as well. Now Dade seemed to want to make everything right with the world, but it wasn't enough for Carl. He turned back and stared at Dade, his eyes a mixture of accusation and despair.

"Let it go, Carl." Carl whispered with a sigh, "Just let it go."

His melancholy thoughts were shaken by the shriek of a whistle. He turned to see the team forming up before Josh and Lucas. The time had come. A decision would be made.

It was then that he noted the silent figure of Marty Lee. Though Marty Lee had rarely been talkative, he'd always been sure of himself. That sense of surety had faded over the last months to a degree that Carl had most certainly noticed. He had the notion it was somehow connected to Lucas's change into that of a tyrant.

"Hey." Carl said to Marty Lee as he fell into line, "Don't suppose I could convince you to vote for me, huh?"

Marty Lee regarded Carl's comment with a glance and a nod, "I don't suppose I could convince you to vote for Lucas?"

Carl tapped his chin thoughtfully for a few moments before he answered, "Nope!"

"Thought not." Marty Lee sighed, turning his head to the front as Lucas spoke.

"Alright, Team. This is it. We can't operate with this co-captain bullshit anymore." Lucas said, pacing in front of the team, "We need clear, strong, defined leadership. I push you every week so you'll be the best you can be. Just wants to make sure you all feel good about yourselves and like him, and hopefully we might win a game or two. This is a big season for us. We are the champions, but this season we're playing like a bunch of losers. And that's what we are right now, because we're soft. So quit fucking around and make a choice. It's time to win."

Josh stepped forward and took his opportunity to speak, "Lucas is right about that. It is time to win. To win as a team. We're not a team right now, are we? We have to change that. Maybe a few years ago you might not have thought I could be captain material, and I'm not trying to be. All I'm trying to do is build on the legacy Mike left us. Let's be a team again. Lucas included. All of us. Let me be your captain and I promise, win or lose, we will be a team again."

Once the two had said their piece the team deliberated amongst themselves for several moments. Marty Lee spoke to no one and perhaps that was the most telling sign. For when it came time to vote, it was almost unanimously for Josh. Only Marty Lee raised his hand for Lucas.

Josh did not take joy in his victory, nor did he celebrate it or gloat to Lucas. Instead he turned to Lucas, face somber. Lucas himself was more than just a bit stunned. It was almost as if reality had sent him a wake up call that he wasn't ready to answer, but was forced to.

"Sorry, Lucas." Josh said, offering his hand to Lucas, "The VC spot is still yours."

Lucas looked around the team, unable to meet eyes that continued to evade his own. Only Marty Lee could return Lucas's gaze, but it did nothing to quell the dour expression on Lucas's face. Finally he turned to Josh.

"Congratulations." Lucas said, doing his best to keep a stiff upper lip.

Lucas stepped back without shaking Josh's hand. He listened somewhat bitterly as Josh gave the team a pep talk about unity and working together, casting glances at Lucas in the hope he would share the sentiment. Lucas did not.

"Hit the showers." Josh said to the team before they rushed off, with not one making eye contact with Lucas.

Whether Lucas had been unreasonable or simply used a different technique than Mike was yet to be decided, but it mattered little at all now. Lucas was no longer co-captain. He'd effectively been sacked by his team.

"I'm sorry, but you gave me no choice." Josh said, staying behind to talk to Lucas.

The fire from Lucas had left the moment he'd been dumped as co-captain. He had nothing to say to Josh. He simply turned and walked away behind the rest of the team. He didn't bother showering, he merely grabbed his bags and left. He was done with this team. For the first time since arriving in Merlow, he wouldn't be playing for the football team.

Dade watched Lucas leave and sighed. He knew that Lucas had walked out of the changing rooms for the last time. Things had already changed so much in the last year and this just seemed to be another one of those changes. Part of him felt for Lucas though. He knew Lucas had been through a rough time since Storm's departure and it had obviously changed Lucas's personality.

"Fuck." Marty Lee cursed as he watched Lucas leave.

He knew this would just give Lucas yet another reason to drown his sorrows in alcohol. As if he needed any more reasons than he already had. He took a deep breath and walked toward the showers, his eyes dejected and glazed. He wasn't looking forward to going home tonight.

* * * * * * *

Brad lay on his bed in what was once Storm's room. He read through one of his English textbooks, yawning as he rolled onto his side and reached over to turn off the light. He was beat tired.

He sat up before turning off the light and stood in front of the mirror, studying some of the scars that remained from his horrific beating. They were mostly healed, though some would always remain. Even more would remain inside, but he'd accepted what had happened and moved on.

He'd been using the gym in the basement to great effect, but he still knew he would never play football for Merlow High again. That thought killed a piece of Brad's spirit, because it had always been his dream to make it back into the team. He would've made it back if it wasn't for his father.

"Am I destined to become you?" Brad asked himself softly as he stared in the mirror.

Would he be the next Jeremiah? A bitter, mean spirited man whose regrets plagued him each day? A man who looked back on his life and wondered how it could have changed so much from what he wanted as a young man. Things for his father seemed so good in High School. He was the all star player, so popular. Yet he didn't even make it into college. Would Brad suffer the same fate?

He didn't think so. Though he'd often been told he was just like his father when his father was in High School, he liked to think he was turning out more and more like his mother. He didn't want to become his father. A hard working man, though an unhappy one. A man who could never afford to move his family out of the poorer end of town or rise above his menial job.

He traced the contours of his chest, sighing and wondering if anyone would ever find him appealing. He was one of the seemingly few virgins left at his age, not for a lack of want for losing it either. Even when he was on the football team and one of the most 'popular' people in Merlow High, he still had a hard time getting any kind of sexual action.

"Eternal virgin." Brad groaned, moving his fingers down over his abs before he pulled out his boxers and peeked inside at his penis, "Nobody wants to play with you!"

He chuckled to himself and turned back to his bed before he screamed in surprise and fell back on his ass. He shook his head and picked up a nearby shoe before he threw it at Josh's head as he leaned in the window.

"Ow!" Josh laughed, rubbing his head, "What'd you do that for!?"

"You scared me!" Brad laughed from the floor before he stood up and moved back to his bed.

He helped Josh climb into the window and collapse on the bed. Josh chuckled a little breathlessly and pulled a book out of his backpack that he handed to Brad.

"Thought you might like it. But I'm not sure I should give it to you after you threw a shoe at my head." Josh grinned, "You know, I don't know how Lucas climbed in this window every night when this was Storm's room."

"Enticed by sex." Brad smirked, "He wanted some tempest loving!"

"So what's my draw then?" Josh asked with a doe eyed grin.

Brad grinned sheepishly and shrugged, "I'm still figuring that out myself."

The two yawned as Brad gave the book Josh brought him a quick read over. Josh sighed contently and put his hands behind his head so he could stare up at the ceiling. This was rather habit for them. They were often content just to be around each other and not say a word. Tonight though, Josh seemed a little restless and Brad could sense something was on his mind. Josh was a brooder. A silent brooder. Yet Brad could always tell when something was troubling his companion.

"What happened?" Brad asked, putting the book away and turning on his side to face Josh.

Josh half frowned and turned his head to Brad, wondering how he seemed to always know when something was troubling him. He sighed and began throwing a tennis ball up in the air before he finally stopped and rolled on his side to face Brad.

"The team chose me to be captain." Josh said finally.

"Josh, that's great!" Brad said excitedly, lunging forward to hug Josh, "You're captain!"

Josh smiled softly and closed his eyes. He patted Brad's bare back and marveled at the scent of him. Letting himself linger in the embrace for a moment, Josh wondered how long he could keep fighting his feelings.

Brad broke the hug but kept his hand on the back of Josh's head, fingers carding through Josh's hair. He smiled at Josh, quite pleased to hear such good news. He let out a sigh.

"Everyone thinks there's something going on between us." Brad said, realizing their current predicament could easily lead someone to believe something was happening, "We are pretty gay."

"No. I'm pretty gay." Josh laughed softly, "You're just pretty weird."

"Hey!" Brad laughed, punching Josh playfully in the nose, "And you're not gay. You haven't even hardly done anything! How can you be homosexual if you're not even sexual!"

"Good point." Josh smiled, shrugging, "I'm not homosexual anyway. Just gay."

"Freak." Brad smirked, rolling on top of Josh and grinding back against his groin, "Let's see if that's true, shall we?" He laughed, "Come on, Josh, show me I've got the stuff!"

"Oh, believe me." Josh blushed madly, closing his eyes and trying to will his erection down, "You've got the stuff."

Brad stopped what he was doing before he fell back down beside Josh and laughed, "And I was just thinking how nobody found me hot."

"Rest easy. You're hot." Josh blushed, "Thank you for that."

Brad merely shrugged and smiled before he looked at Josh curiously, "So ... how did Lucas take it?"

"Badly, I think." Josh said honestly, sighing, "I mean, I think it'll be good for the team to have one captain again, but Lucas is a really good player and ... I don't think he's going to be back."

"You mean he's off the team altogether?!" Brad asked in surprise.

"I don't think he'll come back. I'll try and talk to him but ... he's really hard to talk to these days."

"Bummer." Brad frowned, "I wish I could play again."

"I wish you could too."

"Well ... why don't I?" Brad asked excitedly, "Come on, you have an opening. Gimmie a tryout!"

"I don't think so." Josh said quickly, "You're in no state to play."

"Come on! I've played in worse condition than this before. I'm almost a hundred percent!"

Josh frowned with worry. He didn't want to be the one who crushed one of Brad's dreams. Yet he couldn't in all good conscience let Brad risk himself by playing. Seeing Brad's face as it was now though made Josh groan audibly for Brad was positively pleading for a chance.

"Brad, I don't want to." Josh conceded, "I don't want you to play. Please. Don't ask me for this."

"Josh, please. You gotta gimmie a shot. Don't try and protect me. Come on, this is our last year in high school. My last chance to get noticed. You know I'm a good player. This could be my chance at a scholarship." Brad said, "I could go to college!"

"Brad, don't put that pressure on me." Josh frowned, sitting up, "Please."

"No!" Brad said, sitting up and grabbing Josh's shoulders so they faced each other, "I want this! I don't wanna be just another loser who could've been something. I don't want to be a bitter old bastard like Jeremiah. I want to go to college! I need a scholarship. I need to play. I need to play."

"Brad, you get good grades. Surely there must be some kind of scholarship you can go for." Josh said, trying to dissuade Brad.

"I get good grades, but I'm no geek. I might get a scholarship, but if I play, I know I'll get a scholarship. I know it." Brad said passionately, almost shaking Josh, "I am a great player. That's one thing I do know. Put me on that field and I will prove it to you. Let me get back out there, Josh. I'm begging you."

Josh growled and shook Brad's hands off before he stood up, "It's been so long since you played. What makes you think you can still cut it out there?"

"What makes you think I can't?" Brad challenged, a long buried fire now rising in his eyes as he stood up to face Josh, "You know I can."

"I can't let you play." Josh said, "Do you even have medial clearance to play?"

"What do I need that for!? Just let me play!" Brad said, quite agitated over the whole thing.

He felt as though his entire life hinged on this. He somehow believed that if he just had this shot to get into the season early and get himself noticed, he'd get into college on a scholarship. He knew it. He wouldn't let Josh hold him back just to try and protect him. "Josh, please." Brad begged, "I'm desperate."

Josh made a noise that sounded close to grumble before he picked up his backpack and moved to the window to leave. He turned back to Brad with a look of anxious worry. He felt trapped. What was he supposed to do? Just a few months ago he wasn't sure if Brad was even going to be alive.

"I can't risk it." Josh said, a soft plead in his voice, "Please, don't ask me for this."

"Can't risk it?" Brad asked, growing increasingly anxious, "Or won't risk it?"

Josh heard the implication in Brad's voice and shuddered inside. He half moved out of the window before turning back to face Brad. Their eyes met and Josh did not flinch from Brad's accusation.

"Both." Josh said, almost sadly before he disappeared down the side of the house.

Brad cursed in frustration, almost in tears. He paced back and forth, fists clenched. If Lucas left, that left a spot open on the team. A spot Brad felt he deserved more than anyone. His whole life felt as though it revolved on him getting this spot.

"It's my last chance." Brad gasped, stifling a sob unsuccessfully, "I won't end up like you, Jeremiah. I won't."

Frustrated and upset, Brad sat down at the computer Dade had moved into his room to help with his study. He tapped away furiously at the screen, bringing up his email account. He wiped his eyes and began typing up a message explaining what had just happened.

… and I couldn't believe it. Why won't Josh let me try? I need this. I know it sucks for Lucas, but this must be fate. Please respond if you're out there. What do I do?

-B1ne

Brad hit the send button and stood up, resuming his pacing. He waited anxiously for a reply, hoping one would come soon. He felt a little bit calmer, even just for being able to vent his frustrations. Almost ten minutes later his computer left out a small chime, signaling a response had arrived. He sat back down and opened up the message.

Don't ask for the spot. Take it. And if they think you're down, show them you're still standing.

--Me

* * * * * * *

Marty Lee knew that when he arrived home, he would find an upset and no doubt drunk Lucas. He knew Lucas hadn't taken well to being dumped by the team as Captain. He knew Lucas would no doubt be drinking heavily. However, even for Lucas's standards, tonight's drinking session was a little too much.

Marty Lee arrived home to find the house filled with people he barely liked or didn't know. In the middle of the lounge he found Lucas with a bottle of Jack Daniel's in one hand, and a Steinlager in the other. Two girls were practically throwing themselves at Lucas, who was too drunk to really process what was going on around him.

Marty Lee simmered with anger. This was too much. He didn't care if this was Lucas's house. It was still Marty Lee's home too.

"Anyone still in this house in two minutes will have a date with a fucking beatdown!" Marty Lee yelled after turning off the music.

Marty Lee had enough of a reputation that people feared him. He growled and stared down several of the 'guests' who soon left. The ones who gave him lip found themselves being physically thrown out the door. Once a few started leaving, more began to filter out. Finally and just within time, the last reveler had left.

Marty Lee had finally had enough. He stormed into the house and marched right up to Lucas, fists clenched. Lucas barely paid him any heed, which only caused Marty Lee's hurt to become even more evident.

"You've gotta stop, Lucas!" Marty Lee said emphatically, eyes uncharacteristically laced with emotion.

Lucas snapped in frustration, taking another sip of his beer anyway. Every night it was the same thing. Every night Marty Lee was forced to watch Lucas drink himself into a stupor. Every night Marty Lee would try and convince Lucas to stop. For someone who usually had as much control as Marty Lee did, this was an awfully distressing situation. He felt powerless.

"Dude, please." Lucas said dismissively, "Just fuck off, alright?"

"I didn't come here to watch you screw yourself up like this."

"Then what did you come here for, huh?" Lucas asked with a slur, stepping up to challenge Marty Lee.

"I thought ..."

"You thought what? You thought I'd play big brother and make sure little Marty was alright?" Lucas taunted, shoving Marty Lee before he grabbed his jumper and yanked Marty Lee to him, "Or were you hoping for something a little more ... intimate?"

"Fuck you!" Marty Lee cried, shoving Lucas backwards and using all his resolve not to knock Lucas out for his implication, "Please! Look at what you're doing!"

"What the hell do you want from me? You don't want a drink, you don't want a fuck. What do you want? You want a hug? Is that it?"

"God, you're such an asshole." Marty Lee said bitterly, eyes watering and his fists clenched, "You're supposed to be different. I trust you. Please, I need this to work out. I need you to be ok."

"Why the fuck do you even care?" Lucas said drunkenly, grabbing another bottle and drinking it down.

Marty Lee sniffled and he grabbed Lucas into a tight hug, clutching onto him, "Because you cared. You cared. When no one else did, you cared." He sobbed softly, holding Lucas tight.

The sound of Marty Lee's actual sobs brought Lucas to a halt. His eyes seemed to sober, realizing that somehow he'd driven Marty Lee to bare himself emotionally. Something that Marty Lee never did. Did he really have that effect on him?

"You're all I have here." Marty Lee cried, "You're my family. Please. I need this. I need you. Don't throw everything away. Please. I need this."

Lucas suddenly raised his hands and squeezed Marty Lee back just as tightly, whispering, "I'll try harder. I promise."

Marty Lee nodded, still sniffling as he and Lucas stood holding each other. In order to save Lucas, Marty Lee had been forced to expose himself. To make his vulnerabilities open to attack. To lay it all on the line. Marty Lee finally believed everything was going to be ok.

"After tonight." Lucas said softly, his breath reeking of alcohol, "Just a few more drinks. Tomorrow it'll be different."

Marty Lee pulled away and turned to leave without another word. His disappointment was written in the soulless expression in his eyes. He couldn't do this anymore.

He walked right out the front door, sobbing soundlessly. He bumped right into someone and was about to react by lashing out at them when he realized it was Marcel Lewis of all people. For a few moments the two stared each other out, Marty Lee sniffling but doing his best to show he wasn't in the mood for anything.

"Marty Lee." Marcel said finally, nodding to him, "I'm here for Lucas."

Marty Lee stared straight at Marcel, "Why don't you try and bloody get through to him? Isn't that what the bloody Pack He said in an accusatory tone, still upset, "Or was that just bullshit appropriate for the time? In case you didn't notice, the Pack is long dead."

Marcel raised his eyebrow and nodded to Marty Lee, "Hate to disappoint you, but we're very much alive."

"Then where have you been? People mess up and you ditch them, huh? You all look down from your fucking high horses. Look down on him. He's a good person, but you all let him go to shit! You're supposed to be his friends! You're supposed to give a fuck!" Marty Lee said angrily, passionately, pointing to the house, "Bloody Storm. I thought I understood why he was so angry, and I do, but he's so fucking unforgiving. The whole bloody lot of you self righteous assholes. Fuck all of you!"

Marcel said nothing, but slowly stepped up to Marty Lee, "If you're done, this self righteous asshole would like to see this person we all look down on. Because, contrary to popular belief, this asshole gives a fuck."

Marty Lee bit his lip, rather taken by surprise. When he thought about it though, he shouldn't have been surprised. Marcel had always proven to be loyal, and Marty Lee had heard of Marcel's visit to Lucas even after finding he had cheated on Storm. Marty Lee finally nodded, gratefully, relieved that finally someone else was here to help with Lucas. If he didn't get some respite soon, he would've called Lucas's parents in San Diego.

"Thank you." Marty Lee sighed, "Thank you."

Marty Lee didn't have to say it, but Marcel could already tell that Lucas had fallen off the wagon again. When he first met Marty Lee, he didn't like him. That opinion hadn't changed now, but he could tell Marty Lee was a lot different to the psychotic rich kid asshole he met way back.

"I'm going to go in now." Marcel said softly, nodding to Marty Lee.

"Ok." Marty Lee sighed, nodding in relief, "I'm going to go somewhere else tonight if that's okay. Just tell Lucas I'm ... oh he'll be too drunk to notice anyway." He said before he turned and walked off down the street.

* * * * * * *

"Dade!" Claire laughed, slapping his hands away, "I'm trying to study!"

Dade grinned and hugged her from behind as she sat at her desk doing an assignment. He kissed her neck and rubbed her stomach, teasing her. He could feel his baby through her stomach. She was so obviously pregnant now and the baby's birth wasn't too far away now.

"Come on, just a little play play?" Dade grinned, "I love you?"

"You have to love me." She protested, laughing.

"You're so mean to me!" He said dramatically, "Can I get you something to help you study then?"

"Glass of milk?"

"Coming right up." He smiled.

As much as he had lamented over not having Storm here for such an important time in hisl life, Dade had mostly come to terms with the fact he probably wouldn't ever have his brother back in his life again. He had to focus on Claire and his baby now. That meant accepting the mistakes he'd made, and moving on as best as he could.

He made his way downstairs and the door knocked just as he reached the bottom of the stairs, "I'll get it!"

Dade opened the door and made a face of surprise at the guest on his doorstep. It was none other than Marty Lee. Marty Lee looked obviously upset to Dade, but he maintained a cool exterior. He simply nodded his head at Dade and walked right in.

"I need somewhere to stay tonight." He said simply, "So here I am."

"Well ... of course you are." Dade said in surprise as Marty Lee walked in, took off his shoes and turned to Dade again.

"So where am I sleeping then?"

* * * * * * *

Lucas was speechless at the appearance of Marcel Andreveich Lewis in his living room. It had been months since he'd last seen him. For some reason seeing Marcel reminded Lucas so much of the way things used to be before he turned into the Lucas that everyone seemed to despise today.

Brimming with tears, Lucas put down the bottle of beer he held and stepped forward, breaking into sobs as he hugged Marcel. Marcel accepted the embrace sincerely, rubbing Lucas's back soothingly. Lucas cried out with anguish, his tears drenching Marcel's shoulder.

It didn't matter what Lucas had done. It didn't matter what had gone on between anyone. Marcel made a promise long ago that he would be Lucas's friend to the end, and the end had not come yet. As far as Marcel was concerned, that still made them friends. Loyalty was always one of Marcel's most enduring qualities, and right now that loyalty was being gratefully accepted by Lucas.

"It'll be ok, Lucas." Marcel whispered, rocking Lucas as he cried, "It'll be ok."

"Where's my Storm?" Lucas sobbed drunkenly, "Why won't he come back to me?"

Marcel's eyes watered up and he sighed sadly. Even he had not seen Storm since he'd left Drake months ago. He didn't expect Storm to ever come back, but he didn't have the heart to say that to Lucas now. Even after all this time, Lucas was still coming to grips with Storm's departure.

"I'm sorry." Marcel said finally, still rubbing Lucas's back, "I don't know. We can talk about it in the morning, ok? But I need you to go to bed and sleep this off. In the morning, I'll still be here."

"Do you promise?" Lucas asked meekly, eyes swimming with tears.

"I promise." Marcel said, leading Lucas by the hand to his bedroom.

Lucas succumbed and let Marcel do as he willed. He helped Lucas onto his bed and pulled off his shoes. He covered Lucas in a blanket and sat beside him on the bed, just watching him.

"I didn't know it wasn't him." Lucas cried pitifully, "I didn't mean to cheat. I didn't."

"Shhh. Shh." Marcel said, rubbing Lucas's arm, "Just sleep. Just sleep."

"Dude ..." Lucas sniffled, still crying softly.

"Yes, Lucas?"

"I miss everyone." Lucas cried, his voice pained as he grabbed Marcel's hand and pulled Marcel down to the bed with him.

Marcel hesitated at first but decided that maybe Lucas just needed to feel wanted for a night. Maybe Lucas just needed to know he wasn't alone. He held Lucas gently, soothing him toward slumber.

"Forget the rest ..." Lucas sniffled, smiling softly as he closed his eyes, "Forget the rest ..."


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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