28 posts tagged “al”

i can't really remember much about these or why i wrote them. so just enjoy. n.n

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He lay curled up on the bed, his ear pressed against the swollen belly of his fiance. A hand gently stroked his hair.

"What's wrong Al?" he asked, setting his book of baby names aside. "You haven't said anything all day."

He remained still, listening to the movements of the little one inside. "I'm scared lovely." He opened his eyes, shifting his head just a bit to look up into those sleepy blue eyes.

"I've told you a thousand times. There's nothing to worry about. You'll be a great dad."

"That ain it..." he said, closing his eyes again and concentrating on the little creature.

Randy sighed, leaning back against the pillows. His hand fell from his lover's hair, and rested on his own chest. "Al... we've been through this. You've gotten me the best doctors, and made sure we've been eating like we're supposed to, you've taken care of everything around here so I don't get stressed." He laughed lightly when Al suddenly lifted his head and looked down at the rounded dome of flesh. "We're fine. You don't have to worry so much."

"I can't help it," he said, sitting up and putting his hands against his beloved's stomach. He'd been kicked right in the ear, which was quite unpleasant a feeling. "What if he ends up like I was?"

"She," Randy corrected, "will be perfectly healthy."

"Randy, we can't rule out the possiblity... I'm not exactly a perfect genetic specimen ye know... there's any number-a things that could go wrong."

"You're not going to let this go are you? -.-' I don't care if she has three heads and six arms. As long as she screams, eats, and shits like a healthy baby girl, she'll be fine."

"Stop jokin 'round. I'm tryin ta be serious 'ere."

Randy sighed again as Alabaster put his head back down against his stomach. "I know baby. But we've done everything we can do." He smiled softly as he stroked the mop of pink, black, and blue hair. "We'll take care of anything else when we get to it."

"I wanna name him Billy."

"No. We're naming her Rebbeca."

"Samuel William an that's the end-o it."

"Rebecca Ranae."

"Sammy Billy."

"Becca Ran."

"Billy!"

"Becca!"

"O.o What if it's twins?"

There was a long pause before they looked at each other and sighed. "We shouldn't have wanted it to be a suprise," they said together before looking down at the enormous belly of Randy.

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 The days are cold. The nights are long. Here alone, without you by my side. I'm older now. My memory isn't what it used to be. I've come to rely on this journal of ours, the old orange spiral notebook you left behind that night you walked out of my life.
 I'm dying. You would think that by now I would accept it. That I would lie here and let go of this life filled with such sorrow that my old feeble heart can no longer bear.
 I wait for you still, with two glasses of wine on the table across the room. A candle now burned down to a mere nub sticking out the top of an old beer bottle. You'll be pleased to know the kids are doing fine. Alexia just had another child. A little girl. She looks just like her dad but without a penis.
 Yeah, I thought you'd find that funny as hell.
 You always do.
 Kakurine brought her bunch today. You'd be proud of them. They've grown pretty big since the last time you saw them. The oldest, Nicholai, was just suspended from school a few days ago. He'd found Cross's old stash of explosives. He blew up the gym with them. He's coming to stay with us and finish school out on the island. Like I said, you'd be proud.
 Cross still hasn't come. At least, that's what he wants me to think. I know he's been here, waiting with the others for the latest batch of test results. It's funny, how I can see things now. Much clearer than I had before. Even when they don't think I notice when they're here, I do. When I'm asleep, and they don't want to wake me, I can feel them. I can see them. Blurred shapes and faceless forms just outside my grasp.
 Vash is dead. He shot himself just after I took ill. Just after our son came to us.
 I hate you, Joe. Everything you've done to me, everything I let you do, has brought me to this moment. The moment I first saw you, it was my fall from grace. But it was well worth the downward spiral into self loathing and embittered hate. I've always respected you, more than even our silent understandings could have ever expressed...
 Our son... I say our son because he is your son, and I have always been your loyal companion down Hell's road. Our son is doing things. Strange things. No doubt that if there comes a time when this scrap of paper ever reaches your hands, you will know whom and what I mean. There is evil in him, so dark and viral that not even my beloved sister could ever hope to save him. But I won't stop believing. I can't stop. You'll come back, just like you've always done, and you'll set things right. You'll make everything alright again.
 This world is changed. I believe I'm the only one who can feel it. No one around has seemed to notice the differences between the world we knew and the world as it is now. I pray that my life's work endures until we may meet again, and I can pop you one in the jaw. You know you have it coming.
 In my search for a way to bring you back to me, I have killed myself. In finding that which allows us to live forever, I have doomed myself to the miserable fate of mortality.
 Laugh. I know you want to.
 I don't want to die. But I know now that it is the only way that I will ever set my eyes upon you again. Only in death will we ever find the peace we dreamed of those days we spent on Violin Road.
 My hand is trembling, the weight of this pen is too much to bear. I will put it down and close my eyes, and wait for you and Death, whichever may come first, to take me away from this miserable dream called life...

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 "As you've no doubt learned by now, you have the power to call up a special friend at will."
 He nodded. "The dragon."
 "Yes, the dragon. Unfortunately for you, your's was the bad apple. There is one on every tree I suppose. Your dragon was Genki."
 "Was?"
 He nodded. "Yes. However, when you last called on Genki, your body could not handle it, so, I sent him for his punishment."
 "What do you mean, punishment?"
 He folded his hands together on his desk. "You see, I can't have someone as powerful as Genki roaming around Hades. It's bad for both business as well as our safety. He had been linked to your sister for so long that not even the healers of Paradise could cure him. For his sins against not only us, but against all of humanity, he must be punished. Unfortunately, you must be as well."
 "WHAT!"
 "Hold on. I pleaded your case at the last High Council, and they have agreed to nullify your entire record and give you a clean slate. However, there are a few conditions you must agree to first."
 "What sort of 'conditions'?"
 His face became like stone. "As Hades law dictates, the head of the SaintSinner knightly order must be of Shinigami clan descent. As it stands now, our friend is the only one that fits the description."
 "You're the head of Hades now, change the law!"
 "Don't you think I have tried. I've reformed as much as I can. But if I undo certain laws, the universe itself ceases to exist. It's actually an interesting idea, but I'd rather not try my luck until I've gotten a much better grasp on how to run things around here."
 "So what do I have to do?"
 "Since Hades was founded by my predecessor, Pluto, and the heads of both the Shinigami and Delacriox clans, it was decided that each would control different aspects of the afterlife based on their individual powers. The Delacroix are responsible for Paradise and all it's workings because they were highly rightious people. The Valar, my own clan, were responsible for the major decision making due to their heightened sense of justice."
 "And the Shinigami?"
 "Like the name says, gods of death. The Shinigami were responsible for who would die and come to Hades when. But, because they played a crucial role in ousting the pre-existing regime, they were also responsible for the defense of Hades as well. Thus, the SaintSinner knightly order was born. They protect while everyone else does their jobs. But, the clan leader had three sons, so he created different positions for them. The middle son would be placed in charge of the River Styx. The eldest would be the head of the SaintSinners, and the middle son was considered Death-in-Training."
 "So he was, I mean, but that's not right."
 "Death, the Boatman, and the head Knight were wiped out when Genki attacked Hades. Tem, or Tem's soul rather, was the middle son. But, now there is a conflict of interest. He cannot fulfill his Grim Reaper duties as well as keep an eye on Hades. That is where you come in."
 "What am I supposed to do, watch a boat?"
 He smiled. "No, I found something more fitting for you."
 "What?"
 "Since, as law dictates, the head of the SaintSinner order must be of Shinigami decent, the High Council has agreed to let you fill the position of Death. However, until your sins have been expunged completely, you will be working off a very strict list of names and descriptions of their subsequent deaths provided by both myself and the council. You will also have to wear an ankle bracelet that allows us to keep track of you. You make one slip, and they'll have my ass. Then I'll have your head mounted on my wall next to Voide's."
 "I think I'd rather suffer eternal hellfire."
 He leaned back in his chair. "That can be arranged."
 He stroked his chin, thinking it over. "What makes you think I'll agree to this?"v "I knew you would say something like that."
 "Really? So what ain't you tellin me?"
 He waited a beat, then nodded. "I might as well tell you before you try to find out on your own," he said, then drew in a deep, slow breath. His face once more became like stone, and his voice was solid and even. "If you do not agree to this, your punishment is not your's alone."
 "Yeah, Genki."
 He shook his head. "No... Shortly after you died, Tem tried to kill himself. Suicide is the worst sin of all, even more severe than those you and Genki have committed. Even attempting it condems one to a fate worse than dying. Worse than suffering through eternity, reliving the same moment over and over again like Genki must."
 His voice actually cracked when he asked his next question.
 And his old rival answered solomnly. "In all realities, in all forms and versions, he will cease to exist. He will be expunged from history. There will be no trace left, at all, that he was even there. No one would remember him. No one would notice, nor care. His soul will return to one form, and will then fade into nothing. Not even we of the High Council will know he has come and gone. But your punishment... you would be forced to go on. Time and again, living and dying mortal life after mortal life unending. You would search, like all the different kinds of soulmates search, for him and never find him. And upon returning for your brief stay in Hades between lifetimes, you would remember. You alone would know the Truth. And it would drive you insane."
 "But.... how? How do you know this! How is it even possible!" He slammed his fist into the arm of the chair, his nails digging so deep that even in this world of codes and numbers, he could feel the nerve endings in his hand scream in agony as his nails dug into the hot, sweaty flesh of his palm.
 "It has happened once before."
 "To who! When!"
 He turned his face away, almost ashamed of what he knew. He felt horrible now, now that he had found the old scrolls burried in the rubble that was once the great palace overlooking Hades. "King Pluto was not the first to rule over Hades. He was forced to take the highest position because his predecessor went insane. Before the war that divided heaven, hell, and earth, the first ruler of Hades had raped and killed an angel, and to escape his fate, he became that which is most hated in all realms. I killed him. But... I did not have the skill, nor the power to do so. I... I was weak compared to what he had become."
 "Voide."
 "The part of him that once was human... My first arrow did not strike. My second, even Hiei believed had struck true. But now I know, it missed, and he took it and drove it into himself to stop the pain."
 "Then how did he get to Hades! I thought you said the Valar clan was-"
 "Delacroix blood with Valar namesake. It's complicated, I know... but by right he was the eldest of the clan, and he was therefore ruler. But he snapped. No one would believe him that the woman he had raped and murdered had even existed. Pluto was forced to punish him once it was discovered he had killed himself and not I. And so, he was sent back to the living world, where he returned in the form you know him as. Again and again, he must be born, killed, and reborn to endure the agony of his greatest sin."
 "But if he was the one who comitted suicide, then why does she not exist?"
 "She was an innocent soul. She had already lived her allotted number of lifetimes. Few as they were, she lived each one perfectly. No sins great enough to incur the wrath of the gods so to speak. She was mortal, with no connections to any otherworldy beings save for Voide. She had earned her reward in Paradise."
 "Then how do you know all this. If he went insane because no one else knew of her..."
 "Whichever fate you choose, you will find out soon enough on your own."
 He thought on this a moment, then sighed. "I still don't get it. If she was so perfect and innocent, how is it that she's not remembered at all?"
 He smiled. "Because she was always mortal. When mortals have reached the end of their earthly existence, the o either to the fields or to paradise. Upon entering paradise, the mortal is considered complete, and there is no further need of remembering them. They do not cease to exist completely. They only cease to matter to the rest of us otherworldy beings."
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 "He is hailed as a saint among the sinners. But he is condemed to remain a sinner among saints. It is this paradox that gives strength to his resolve. As the head of the SaintSinner order, his blood must be shed to open the gate that you command. One thousand years and one day you will be apart, and together for just a brief series of moments before your duties call you back."
 "Will our pain ever end?"
 "You've changed so much since back then. I remember once you tried to steal my wife away from me. You raped, you pillaged, and you burned. You threw everything important in your life away to get whatever you wanted. But the one thing you wanted most, you can never have. That is just the way it has to be."
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            "Soulmates, my friend, is a rather strange and complex idea. There are so many different sorts. Ones who find love and never let it go. Others who discover hate and let it guide them through the world. Each pair has a distinct aura about them. Love is warm and pure, while hate is cold and corrupt. My wife and I, what we had was heaven sent."
           "...Tem and I..."
            "Are like two alpha males trapped in the same small closet. Strange though, the aura you two share radiates more hate and rage than I have ever seen. But... you've formed a coexistance that sets you apart. He cannot live without your excessive beatings, and you cannot live without his rebellious and spiteful retalliations. I've never in all my lives seen such a thing. As cold and as stubborn as you both are, one cannot exist without the other.
            "I had heard rumors, but I had never imagined that what the High Council had finally decided was true."
            "What?"
            "He was sent to earth to kill you. To bring you back to Hades where you were to be put on trial."
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 I brushed the flour off the table after putting the pan in the oven. Wiping my hands on the frilly pink apron tied around my waist, I moved over to the stove and cracked a few eggs into the frying pan. I beat them as they cooked in the fatty juices left behind from the sausage and bacon I'd cooked before.
 I had spent all morning in the kitchen, cleaning as I went along.
 I heard the front door slam closed as I just finished setting the table with five plates and food.
 I barely had enough time to set the frying pan back on the stove before little arms wrapped around my leg.
 "Da! Is this enough?"
 I pried the child from me and knelt down to her level as she presented me with a little bouquet of wildflowers. "Sophie... ye didn't take those from the back yard now did ye?"
 She shook her head, her golden curls bouncing about her round, pale face. "Nuh uh," she said sweetly as she ran off to drag a chair to the cubbord. She climbed up and opened it, pulling out a large plastic cup. I filled it with water for her, and let her drop the flowers in before setting it in the center of the table.
 "Da, do ya think mummy will like them?"
 "Of course," I said as she snatched a piece of bacon from the platter. "Mummy will love it. Now run along an get washed up er yer mum'll 'ave a fit at us both fer ruinin yer Sundy best."
 She hugged my leg, and I gave her a pat on the head before sending her on upstairs to wash up. I laughed, taking off my apron and hanging it back on the peg by the broom closet. I made myself more presentable as I ran around straightening the livingroom.
 My darling Sophie ran back down stairs, her face damp and a few drops of water clinging to her curls.
 "Is mummy and uncle Ryan here yet?" she said excitedly as Frank galloped down the stairs, his hind paws sliding on the hardwood floor as he tried to keep his balance in his new sneakers, rather, an old pair of Sophie's when she was a babe.
 She ran to the window when she heard the sound of the mini-van's horn.
 "They're here! They're here!" she shouted, clapping her hands and jumping up and down. I chased her out into the front yard.
 "Keep yer voice down kidlet!" I called, but her squeals drowned me out. I waited at the end of the stone walkway leading to the front steps. First Ryan jumped out from the passenger side, his boyfriend James stepped out from the driver side.
 My little green eyed angel had already pulled the side door open and her little sandal clad feet were hanging out. James went around back and astarted pulling the usual things out. Sophie ran around to help as Ryan aided her mum out of the van.
 "You wipe that smirk off your face this instant Alabaster!"
 I covered my mouth to stifle a chuckle. It had been a few days since I heard Randy's annoyed chastising. "This is the last time you hear me!" he snapped, stopping to pull the bright blue carrier out of the middle seat.
 I had already moved aside for Sophie and James. Ryan locked up the van before hurrying inside.
 "C'mon, breakfast is getting cold," I said, taking the carrier from him and peering down inside.
 "You... Cooked?"
 "Yeah. An it's edible. Sophie's been munchin all through mornin."
 He laughed as I followed him inside. The jingles of the bells told me the cats were up and about at last. When I came into the kitchen, pulling out an extra chair to set the carrier on beside Randy, Sophie was loading the critter bowls with cat food, and Frank was already sorting through the biscuits to find the perfect one for himself.
 I sat on the other side of the carrier, looking in upside down at the dark skinned sleeping baby with soft black fuzz on the top of his head. "What color eyes does he got?" I asked.
 "Blue, of course," Ryan blurted out from across the table as he fixed my husband's plate. "Randy, tell him what the little brat did!"
 I blinked, looking up at the glaring blond man. "What'd he do?" I asked.
 "He gave the finger to every single female nurse that even just walked by. And he was screaming from the very second he opened his eyes." Randy happily thanked Ryan for the plate before whirling back around to me. "And this is the last time you are ever doing this to me. From this moment on, you're not allowed to touch me unless you've got a damn rubber on you hear me!"
 James laughed, and Ryan snickered as I squared my jaw and glared right back. "I wouldn't 'ave ta if ye'd just take those damn pills!"
 We went on like this off and on through breakfast, and I was suprised the little squealer slept through it all. Dead to the world like a log he was... he gets that from his Da.
 James and I cleared the table after Randy and Ryan had gone upstairs to put little Aristotle in his crib. I'd just picked up the frying pan to dry and put away when there was a small tug at my pant leg.
 I looked down to see Sophie staring up at me with her round green eyes wide in curiosity. "Da... what's a visectamy?"
 I dropped the frying pan, a nice old heacy cast iron antique, right on my bare foot. James burst into laughter as I turned the air blue with my words. Sophie giggled and ran out of the kitchen shouting. "Mummy! Da said the four leter words again!"
 I'm not exactly sure when it started... my transformation from shameless playboy to loving family man...
 But I'm glad it happened.
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 The masses gathered in the desert valley silenced as the thin, ancient figure appeared upon the hill, the rising moon at his back, and the setting sun to his war scarred face. He held up his arms, then began to speak.
 Four sets of inhuman eyes watched the man, as he spoke to his people, no... not his people, for they did not belong to him. He belonged to them.
 And those so far that could not hear his voice heard his whispers on the dry, shallow winds.
 "Some call me the Messiah! Others call me the Deus Ex Machina! A monster! A priest! A General of God, and servant of Satan! But I am none of these things!" He paused, wiping his mouth with his bloodstained sleeve. "I am just a man! Flesh and Bone like many of you! Patched together with bits and pieces of scrap metal like the rest..."
 He shook his head, and black eyes caught the shimmer of gray pervading perfect crimson by the moonlight. Blue orbs caught sight of a dark patch over the right eye... and those blue eyes wept dearly.
 The man clenched a fist, then opened his palm to allow a few scatter of flames leap up towards the darkened heavens. "I have roamed the earth, searching, praying that I may find survivors of our great race! Blessed with gifts such as this I show you now from the moment of conception... be it in the womb or the fragile glass of a test tube..."
 He paused again, putting out his flame and wiping his hand upon the tattered rags that clung to his thigh. He shook his head as he looked out on the sea of faces, his head tilted as his voice took on a note of pity. "There is no God... Where was Khrist your Savior, your Messiah, when the Antichrist rose to his throne and founded his kingdom through blood and murder? Where was Allah and his unbeatable calvary when the most powerful of empires fell?" He clenched his fist again. "Where was Buddha with his infinate wisdom to guide us out of this dark time! Where were Yahweh, Zeus, Jupiter, Thor, and the rest of the so called gods and goddesses during the time when Divine Intervention was needed most!"
 He slammed his fist against his chest, over and over, repeating the words "In here. In here," each time. The masses went into an uproar, and when he raised his arms, they once more were silent.
 "I have spent years fighting, and killing, and sinning in search of the Truth that will set me free... And I have found it!" He pointed a finger, and moved his hand slowly from one side of the face sea to the other. "We are not an army of God. We are not an army of Good. We are a species on the endangered list. We are the end result of thousands of years of evolution! There is no black, white, hispanic, and indian. There is no longer many tongues. We are One People, One Voice, united in the face of annihilation. Our faiths cannot, will not save us! WE are the only ones that can save us!"
 When he unclenched his hand, there now sat in his palm a black, jeweled hilt. And he wrapped his long, calloused fingers around it, then raised the black steel blade high into the air. "We will not go quietly into the good night! Together, we will fight, and we will die! But we will do so with the dignity and honor that eons of evolution have bestowed upon us!"
  ---
 The graying pilot sat with his back to the camp, a small fire burning before him as he worked on patching up his torn boots.
 "Have you come to beg forgiveness?... I give no absolutions."
 "I come seeking the idiot who once envisioned a future not so bleak and bloody."
 "Then you've come too far west my friend. That man lies cold in the catacombs up north."
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     "Class, we have a new student joining us today."
     One of the boys in the back leaned over to whisper into his brother's ear. "I hope it's not another one of those Frenchies."
     "Yeah, if we get another one of those frilly shirt guys I think I'll die laughing."
     "Come on, don't be shy dear."
     Their joking stopped, and for an instant, the pair became silent while other students in the class whispered among themselves as the pale girl stepped into the room. She wore a black, tightly cinched longsleeved dress, with white lace around the bottom hem and cuffs. The high, stiff neck made her look almost like a victorian porcelin doll. Her white knee high lacy trimmed socks rose from shiny black dress shoes. She carried her bag in both hands before her, a small black bag. Her long, silky hair the color of the sun and pulled into two perfect tails at each side of her head. Her bangs perfectly curled to frame her face.
     "Go on dear, introduce yourself."
 She was quiet, her round green eyes looking over the faces of her new classmates. Then, when she saw two boys in the back row with their heads down, she smiled brightly and spoke innocently.
     "My name is Nessa Rose Harrison-Willeim. Pleased to meet ye." She made a small curtesy, one hand releasing her bag to lift the skirts of her dress slightly as she put one foot back and bowed her head just a little.
     "Nessa Rose joins us from Dublin, Ireland. Please make her feel welcome." Then, Ms. Richell turned to her with a kind smile. "Sit next to the boy you like the most. You will need to share books with one of the others until I can get you one."
     "Graci," Nessa Rose said with another smile and a small curtsey before looking around. She walked slowly down the center aisle, and paused, looking around before shaking her head and walking the rest of the way to the back. She stopped between the two boys trying to hide their faces. "May I sit between these two?"
     The teacher couldn't help but smile as she looked up. "Elijah, please move one seat over."
     "Yes ma'am," he mumbled, picking up his books and moving to the empty seat next to him.
     The two waited until the class was back to their lessons before muttering. "What in the hell are you doing here?" Eli growled.
     "When did they let you out of prison?" his brother, Izekiel hissed.
     "Mum and Da said this is one of the best schools," she replied as she snatched Zeke's book, then resumed taking her notes. Her back straight, her posture perfect, and her ankles crossed beneath her chair like a well mannered lady.
     "I'll bet she burned her old school to the ground," Zeke hissed again.
     "No, this time she probably threatened to kill her school counselor again."
 She continued to smile innocently. "I'm right here boys. Please pay attention to the teacher."
     The pair grumbled, and remained bitter through the remainder of the class.
     Both boys were more than relieved when the lunch bell rang, and they stuffed their things into their bags as they tried to flee the room. However, both were caught by the backs of their shirts by two strong, yet delicate hands. "Show me around."
     "Fuck you Nessie," Zeke said before he was yanked back hard.
     "I said, show me around."
     "Let go of me she demon!"
     "That's no way to speak to a lady. If my mum heard you talk like that to me he'd tan yer hide for sure."
     She let go abruptly when their teacher came to the door to leave. "Thank ya for making me most welcome in class today Ms. Richell."
     "Aren't you a little dear. I'm sure your mother must be proud to have such a sweet girl."
     "Mummy is very proud madamoiselle," she replied. But once the teacher was gone, she grabbed both boys by the shirt and dragged them out the door. "Yer going to show me around so I don't get lost again."
     "Why should we, you two faced-"
     "Zeke... maybe we should do what she wants... you remember the last time you said no?"
     "What, it's not like she's hiding another cattle prod in her bag!" He managed to escape her grasp. "What's she gonna do, kick us in the nuts and run like we were three?" 
     Her polite, innocent smile turned into quite the wicked smirk. "Do as I say, or I'll grind up yer pet rabbits and feed them to ya when ya don't even suspect it." She laughed. "And for your information, I have mum's stun-gun in my bag today. Ya don't think my da would let his lit'le princess walk across town without anything to protect myself if I find a mugger do ya?"
     Eli's blue eyes went wide, and he was more than happy to do as his cousin asked. She rewarded him with a few pieces of Laffy Taffy she'd brought from home and a pat on the head.
     Zeke followed along behind them reluctantly, his hands in his pockets and his bookbag nice and secure on his back. He mumbled with each step, a lollipop stick hanging out of his mouth. "Stupid no good bubble headed two faced demon woman..."
     "I heard that Izekiel! I'm telling uncle Tyler."
     The remainder of the day, Zeke kept his trap shut whenever he saw the she-demon.

these are just some random rambling dribbly things i've been writing down lately. most don't make much sense. and yeah.... i'll TRY to section them all together with the characters involved. (I.E. whoniverse will be one color, heroesverse another, random al bits in green or something, etc.)

enjoy. :)

Doctor Who/Torchwood universe

The Alabaster bits.

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"You save the universe. Ran an intergalactic organization. And are currently on the run from said organization and you're... you're BLOGGING!"

"What?" he asked. "Jack and Martha get to blog whenever THEY save the universe. Why can't I?"

--------------------

"James?"

"Sorry Quincy. Did I wake you?"

"No," he said sleepily, turning on his bunk and burying half his face into his pillow. "I was just drifting is all."

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"Someday, it'll be the end."

"Don't talk like that Doc."

"I've only got 3 regenerations left Jack. And when the last one's come and gone, she'll have nowhere else to go. Our home is gone. She won't be much trouble. She'll lock down to one spot-"

"I have an idea," Jack said as a smile slowly spread across his face.

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"You have a sister," he said. "Half-sister really."

"Oh?"

Jack nodded. "Her name is Jenny. One day, you'll meet her."

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"Dad, there's something I need your help with."

"Yeah, make it quick," Jack said, slowing his running pace a bit. "I'm in the middle of something."

"Who's calling you at a time like this? Hang up and keep running!" the Doctor shouted back to him.

"I died," the voice on the other end said. "Twice."

"What?" Jack said, stopping dead in his tracks.

The Doctor skid to a stop. "Come on Jack! Goombas! Flaming turtle shells and rolling mushrooms! Deadly to the universe!"

"In a minute Doc!"

"We don't HAVE a minute!" the Doctor shouted back, throwing his arms in the air as he glanced down the corridor ahead of them.

"Okay," Jack said, ignoring the impatient Time Lord. "Is your face still the same?"

"Dad, what the hell-"

"Just answer the question."

"Yeah, but I don't see-"

"Good. Don't worry. It happens. Part of being an alien. Don't tell anyone. You'll be fine."

"But-"

"Gotta go. Running for our lives. Daddy loves you," Jack said, turning off the mobile and dropping it into his pocket.

"What was that about?! Come on!!!!"

Jack laughed, looking over his shoulder to see a giant mushroom with big enormous eyes rolling towards them. He took a few jogging steps before breaking into a full run. The Doctor took the cue and started running again.

When Jack caught up with the wiry man, he laughed. "You owe me a trip to the nearest pleasure planet!"

"What? Why? Who was that?"

"The kid died twice. Didn't regenerate. I win! You so owe me!"

-------------------------

"Jack Harbourne. Writes The World That Wasn't book series."

"Those were pretty good," Gwen said.

"The hero is a nameless man called Traveler. And the villain, also nameless, called the Emperor."

"Sounds a little too close to home," Martha said, looking to Jack.

He knew that look. "Add that to the curiosities stack," he said at last.

------------

"Why aren't we pursuing this? He knows about things no one is supposed to-"

"Orders from higher up," Jack said.

"You ARE higher up. Or was it-"

"Martha. We leave the Harbournes alone. They're on the shortlist, understood."

"But-"

"Do not aproach. Don't even observe."

-----------------------

"There was a story when I was young. One I was told over and over again. The story of a man who was fire and ice, and who burned like the sun at the center of Time. A noble lord who longed for nothing more than adventure and the vastness of space." He smiled down at the cup between his hands. "Gramps told me such stories. Stories, he said, I could never tell mum."

--------------------------

"John? Is that you boy?"

He nodded. "All grown up," he said, glancing back at the door where he knew a younger self had left just hours before. "And oh what a tale I have to tell you."

"You found him. That Doctor and his blue box?"

Again he nodded and pulled over a chair. "I did. But that's not the story I want to tell. I've been out there, gramps. I've seen strange galaxies and alien worlds and so many wonderful, terrifying things..."

----------------------

"Oh this... This isn't natural," he said. "This is, well... It's supposed to be impossible."

"What Doc?"

"There's... Now, I'm ecstatic that I've found this, but at the same time, I'm severely concerned."

"Well?"

He took off his glasses for dramatic effect. Whether he knew this or not made little difference, because it worked. "This sample contains Time Lord DNA."

"What?!"

"More specifically, my Time Lord DNA." He nodded, back to all business. "I'm going to need more time to anylize the samples, but this is definately not supposed to happen."

"You got me pregnant?!?!" Jack shouted, suddenly angry, but could do little more than sit there with his slightly bigger than normal stomach. "I thought you said-"

"Well, it's not exactly a science, you know. Plus, we did have a lot to drink."

"You had ONE banana daqueri! ONE!!!"

"And you had 17 hypervodkas and a shot of tequila. I'm suprised you're not pissing straight alcohol."

-------------------------------------

"This is how it ends," he said. "It's always been how it ends. No matter what we do..."

Quin grabbed his hand. "You did your best."

"I'm sorry."

The American smiled. "I wouldn't spend the end of the universe any other way," he said. "Now, fancy a cup of coffee before we march to our deaths?"

"Yes please. Two sugars with a bit of that hazelnut creamer."

"All we've got is black."

--------------------------

"I know you..." she said. He nodded.

"It's me mum. It's your Johnny."

"My head," she whimpered. "It burns."

"It's okay mum. I'm here. Everything's going to be okay. I'm going to help you."

"John..."

He looked up at Wilf with a sad smile. "Next time you see me..."

The old man nodded. "You look after her, you hear. You take good care of my Donna."

"I will," he said, wrapping her in his greatcoat before lifting her up some.

-------------------------------

There was a flash. Brilliant and blinding in the central work area of the Hub. When it subsided, a man stood with weapon raised, aimed straight at his head.

"Help me!" he shouted as the woman in his arms, wrapped in his coat, screamed savagely.

"Who-"

"Commander Harkness!" he snapped. "Help me get this woman to a cryo unit!"

---------------------

"Roland, what the hell!" Jack shouted.

"I'm sorry," JJ said, emerging from the morgue. "I didn't know what else to do. There wasn't any time."

"You did this?"

"No," he said.

"Donna Noble died, kid. She died 40 years ago. And now you're telling me-"

"40 years?" he said, staring at him in confusion. "Wait... we time jumped? Shit. I'll have to get this thing looked at again. Trust John to fuck up anything he touches..."

"What happened?" Jack demanded.

"She remembered. She remembered everything. I had to get her frozen before we lost her for good."

-----------------------------------------------------------

-----------------------------------------------------------

"Your skin is so cold..."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be."

---------------------

"This is an altered world," he said. "One touched by the hands of gods, not men."

------------------

"You and your companions," he said thoughtfully. "You're an odd lot. An angel, a demon, a mortal and... whatever you are."

The older man smiled and sipped his tea. "Is it so hard to believe? You're a walking corpse, married to an angel who, by the way did what no man should ever be able to do... twice. And you cavort with mortals all the time."

He nodded his defeat. "True. But your lot, you're different. I can't put my finger on it."

The other man continued to sip his tea. "We are bound by different rules than you and your's."

"How so?"

He grinned. "For one, we are more closely tied to this world than you are. We are more than what we seem, like you. However we can and do often die. God holds no power over us, because we serve no masters other than ourselves. Even Lucifer himself holds no sway in our dominion."

"Pagans," Al said at last with a nod of understanding. "And what dominion is that, may I ask?"

He set down his cup and wiped his mouth with one of the rather fancy looking cloth napkins on the table. "Purgatory, my old friend. Neither good nor evil. Only a state of perpetual balanced existence."

----------------------------------

"Dragons? Are you serious?"

"Is it really so hard to believe, Alabaster?"

"Now that I think about it.... YES!"

"And like being a demon prince from hell is much better?"

"Hey, at least I don't breathe fire," he replied.

"No. You just fuck anything that crosses your path."

"Oi! Not the girls!"

"Okay. Unless they're a girl."

------------------------------------

"Interresting..." the stranger said without lowering his sword. "I had not counted on another of my kind here."

"If I pull the trigger," Al said. "Will you get back up?"

"Yes."

"Which crown do you serve, swordsman?"

"I serve no crown," he spat out bitterly.

"Then I've no quarrel with you, sir." Al slowly lowered his weapon, but the stranger did not reciprocate.

"And you?" he said, pressing the blade's tip into his flesh. "Which crown do you kneal to?"

"I forfeit my crown, sir."

Navy eyes softened, and the sword was quickly sheathed. "My apologies, Lord-"

"No formalities," Al said, raising a hand. "Just call me Alabaster."

"Many like us I've cut down in my journeys. You are the first to encounter me and survive."

"There are others?"

He nodded. "Yes. But they are not of the peaceful mind. Most seek to destroy. Others... merely pawns of Lucifer's generals."

 

so, i've decided to call a certain collection of stories "The Forever-Man", since they're all centered around my lovely Al, who, unfortunately for him, is immortal. Though, this one doesn't exactly have him in it.

and i'm playing around with names for certain characters.

as always, enjoy.

NOTE: these sort of take place AFTER all of the major action and plot type of stuff.

-----------------------------------

"No... No no no no!" he screamed. "NO!" It was that darkness, that empty place between realms to which he had returned once again. The burning in his flesh was not real, insofar as he knew that his body was only thoughts manifested. Feelings and emotions brought into a familiar illusion so that his sanity may remain intact, for a time.

Quickly, he recalled his final moments before opening his eyes to the darkness of Purgatory once again. He could still feel those hellfire limbs holding him, and see those dimmed green eyes staring down at him in confusion and uncertainty. And the tears...

And the joy. But that joy he felt so strongly inside his heart, burning to his very core was gone now. Replaced with comfort, and a faint sound. Distant, irregular, and somehow peaceful. A heartbeat unlike any other, and after some time, the length of which he was not privy to know, he recognized it to be that of the green-eyed Forever Man.

"He is here."

He turned towards the voice, his ears perked up as he strained to listen again.

"You can sense him, in your own fashion. In mine I can smell whisky in the air. Such a... unique human creation."

He turned a circle, trying to find the source of such a soft, gentle voice. "Where are you?"

"I am everywhere."

"Show yourself!" he demanded, clenching his fists as the heartbeat, that once distant drumming in his thoughts grew stronger, faster.

There was a chuckle. "Calm yourself, child," the voice said in a soothing tone. And upon hearing it, the blue-eyed soul did begin to calm. And the heartbeat began to fade back into a steady hum in the back of his thoughts. It did not dissapear, but remained as a gentle lullabye.

"I am Azrael."

He felt a pull, a panic in his heart. Such a simple statement, a mere name, set into him an instinctual fear. He felt a chill throughout his being, and came to realize a hand was touching him. Clammy, cold. Cold as...

"Yes. And you know why I have come, Aaron."

"That is not my name," he said boldly. "I despise it, just as I despise-"

"God, for having punished you so unjustly."

"Stop doing that!"

He could hear the smile in the voice of Azrael. "I apologize. I do not mean to offend, child. It is merely a... what is that word you mortals are so fond of using? Personality trait? Habit?.... No. Ah, yes. Quirk. I am quite fond of that one myself." He chuckled, and drew his hand away.

The warmth that followed caught the mortal soul by suprise. As he grew accustomed to the feeling once again, he chewed his lip, a nervous tick he supposed. An involuntary response when he would fall into deep thought. Which life had it been when he had last done such a thing?... It was so long ago. It was hazy at best... He spoke, knowing the other already knew his mind, and had read it like an open book.

"You can take me, but you can't have him. Not after what you bastards have put him through."

He could hear Azrael's voice as he spoke quietly to himself. The words he did not understand, but the tone spoke for the meaning well enough.

"I've been prepared for this too many times. Go ahead and take me. I'm ready. I'm done. Just leave him to try again, new and-"

"I have an idea," Azrael interrupted. "If you are up for it."

Once more he felt that cold chill. This time, he braced himself for the quickness with which it spread. He focused on its path, comitting to memory the places where Death would always strike first. "Up for what?" he asked, unable to stop himself from saying them. Were those his words? Or did they belong to the ever growing hellfire burning in the place where he knew his heart should rightly be, if in this place he could claim to have one.

"I am tired of talking to a shadow," Azrael said suddenly. His voice became soft once more as those words which seemed nonsensical to the mortal's ears were spoken.

It was faint, the light. He could not pin down from which direction it had crept upon them from. But he was grateful for such a light in this place of eternal darkness. This waiting room of the damned.

His eyes caught movement, and followed it to see an arm. Fragile, yet he knew it to be quite strong despite. That arm spanned the distance between the hand caressing his own cheek and the lean figure standing in front of him. Such wild hair, and a face that smiled down at him.

He knew that smile. And somehow, he believed, such a smile was shared amongst the hosts of the divine. He had seen it coupled not with sombre grey eyes which looked upon him now, but rather with eyes that shined brilliantly with laughter and excitement; sparkling emerald gems from a face far more handsome than that which belonged to the angel Azrael.

At least, this mortal soul believed it to be far more handsome.

That smile was disarming. Unexpected. And oh so mischevious.

"I was never here," Azrael said carefully.

"What?"

"Simply stated, child," he said. "The angel of death never came to collect you, nor the one you carry inside your heart."

"Can you do that?"

He nodded, his voice taking on a false innocence. "There were so many deaths in that last battle. I may have.... overlooked a few by accident. Working with numbers that large, it can happen." He laughed, and it was a lighthearted sound. "And it's not my fault if those few happen to be a certain four that can't stay out of trouble."

Tyler stared up at him, and could only blink in confusion.

And Azrael pulled his hand away, allowing the warmth within the one he called child to spread throughout once more. "What?" he asked, his angelic voice filled with so very human sarcasm. "You honestly expected me to send the two of you off alone? Preposterous! Where would be the fun in that for me? Besides, if you want that happy ending, you need to do a little something in return."

"Oh no," he replied, shaking his head and holding up his hands to stress his desire to refuse. "I had to sit back and watch the last time someone made a deal with creatures like you. No way. Not going to do it. I have absolutely no intention of living forever, thank you."

"That isn't what I meant," Azrael snapped, slightly offended. But only slightly. He did understand the other's reluctance. "If my records are correct... and they always are, despite the few times I'll accidentally-on purpose overlook little indiscretions, there are two pages of the book in desperate need of repair and revision."

He tried to keep his mouth shut. He tried to understand the subtlties of what Azrael was proposing. However, he found he could not control his mouth and voice, and for a second time words that were not his own erupted forth before considerations could be made. "Where are you going with this, jackass?" Immediately, he clamped a hand over his mouth, and stopped the diarreah of words from going further. After a few moments, and a rather amused chuckle from the angel of death, he sighed. "Sorry. I don't understand what's going on. Something-"

"It appears someone cannot wait his turn to speak."

"Sorry," he repeated.

"Not you," Azrael said, a slender finger prodded his chest, over where his heart should rightly be. Where the warmth had grown and settled into a comfortable, disjointed pulsing sensation. "Him. Please, do try to keep him from forcing you to say stupid things. It is most unbecomming of you."

And Tyler smiled quietly to himself, reaching up to hold his hand against his chest fondly. "I... We'll do it, that is, as long as it does not turn into another of your divine scavenger hunts."

Azrael nodded and held up a hair. "On my honor, you won't have to go hunting for them. They will, in fact, find their own ways to you. Where you will look after them until Raz has finished making the apropriate changes."

 -----------------------------------------------------------

 "Alejandro," he said, sitting up in the bed. "We should move in together."
 "What?"
 "You've been here more than you've been at your own place. It makes

sense."
 "But what about-"
 Kallen cut him off with a laugh. "Don't start. You know I'm right."
 "I don't think we're ready for that."
 "You can't be serious. We've known each other since the school yard days.

And honestly, how often are you actually at your own appartment in any given month?"
 "Well-"
 "And how do you expect to raise up Damien when you're not home half the

time?"
 "My mom helps."
 "You mean your mom is doing your job for you." Kallen shook his head,

throwing back the covers and climbing out of the bed. "You and Damien are moving in

with me and Erick. And you're not going to argue. Besides, it'll be good for the boys to

have someone to play with, and a nice, stable family enviroment."
 Alejandro sighed, nodding. He couldn't argue with Kal. After all, the man

was brutally honest. He pulled the blankets up further, wrapping it around himself to

keep warm in his lover's absence. "Kal, what will I do for work?"
 "You've always wanted to work in a museum, right?" he replied, asking as

he buttoned up his uniform shirt. "You have a doctorate in paleoanthropology. And

you're squandering it away working as a secretary in a... what's that place do again?...."

Kallen turned his head to smile at him. "Ah! That critter cloning place, where they make

the ones we can eat. Never did quite understand that..." It was a goofy, awkward smile,

almost as if it didn't quite belong on his face. "I'll put in a good word for you with the

curator when I see him."
 "Kal, really, you don't have to."
 He strapped on his belt, checking to make sure his flashlight and mace were

in their compartments. "No, but I want to. You deserve it, and it's what you've always

wanted since we were kids." He laughed, going back to the bed to lean in and kiss his

cheek. "When I get back, you'd better be home with Damien and packing your things."
 He felt his face burning, and his mouth a little dry. "This is just so much so

fast. I mean, are you sure? There's barely enough space for you and Erick here. I don't

want to-"
 The taller blond laughed. "I told you, don't start. And stop worrying about

everything."
 "Well excuse me if I can't be as carefree as you are. My brain is fully

functional."
 "Hey!" he laughed, ruffling his lover's hair before stealing another kiss. "You

can mock my off-key singing, and even my creepy late-night muffin baking binges. But

never mock my brain." He smiled that awkward smile again. "It can't understand the

subtle bits."

So, it's another Alabaster dribble. But it's a fresh one. That I wrote this morning/afternoon. It still has that new car smell.

Mmmm.... New Car.....

Anyway, they are a bit... sad. meh, more like bittersweet, i think.

They were all inspired by the following images:

Meh. Enjoy. n.n

-----------------------------------------------------

 "I... I can feel you," he whispered, timidly stroking his jet black cheek. "Everything you felt. The pain... the loss... and the little moments of joy. Hope, faith, doubts... Love. I can feel it all, inside my heart, and burning into my soul."
 The demon stared at him. But what Ty saw in his eyes were a mere moment of recognition. He only saw the animal, the beast now unchained, and wholly a creature of instinct.
 He felt a pang of loss weaving through the waves of joy. His best friend, the man he loved enough to suffer time and again the pain of death and rebirth, had given his life. No, more than that even. He had sacrificed his very soul for the sake of the human race...
 For him.
 He felt shame then. Washing over him abruptly. "I'm so sorry..." he said, his voice cracking as his hand slipped away and  his head dropped to stare down at the blood drenched clothes that clung to him. Tears, warm and bitter rolled down his cheeks. But he could not will them to stop.
 All of the knowledge, wisdom, and power of God at his command. And he could not keep from crying.
 There was a slight stinging at his chin, as a razor sharp claw tried gently to urge him to look upwards. Slight pressure. Barely a cut, barely a scratch. It felt more like a papercut. He knew, despite the irritation it caused him when it touched his skin that it was meant to be a kind, careful gesture.
 When his head lifted, and his eyes trailed up to meet the green gaze staring back at him in confusion, he noticed a thick, dark liquid forming along the bottom lids, building up at the corners and trickling oh so slowly down the hellfire heated cheeks. Crimson trails with crimson droplets were the only sign of this demon, this monster's sadness.
 And then, the monster, despite their shared tears, broke into a smile. And that smile gradually became a smirk as the demon reached up to try and stroke his hair, only to stop before he touched the golden locks and shake his head as if in laughter at his near-mistake.
 The soft flicker in the green eyes brought to mind a laugh. Sinister and amused at once. And though the demon did not speak, Tycen realized what the other had already known. That pull of emotion, tugging at his senses and his thoughts was a reminder. The realization that the man who had caused him so much heartache, and had made life worth living every time was not lost.
 He was still there, held within himself. No longer the shining knight he had strived so hard to be. No. Now, it was the Forever Man who needed protecting. He had become Tycen's secret treasure.
 Belial's smirk faded, and a frown came to his hideous features as he tilted his head. Green eyes stared at him in confusion. He did not understand what was happening to the human in his lap.
 It was the human's turn to smile, and give what small comfort he could as the familiar darkness began to settle in. The void between one world and the next that he knew so well beckoned to him.
 And for the first time, that blue-eyed soul knew that he wasn't going to be there alone.

----------------------------------------------------

He didn't look at him as he tightened his belt, though he longed to burn the scene into his mind. The blond had not only reached 30, he had surpassed it by four years. And now lay stretched out on a pile of rags beside the dying fire. Thought it should have been a happy occasion, their union would not last. The morning brought with it a truth bittersweet.

"No matter what happens," he started, dropping down to fasten the buckles on his boots. "I'll will always love you. Have always loved you."

"Al, what are you saying?"

"I'm going to do it. I'm going to face them, and-"

"You don't know what will happen." He sat up, letting the thin blanket fall to his waist as he watched the relic of a man. "That much power... you know you can't handle it. You can barely keep a balance with yourself. It would kill you."

"I have to. I'm the only one that can," he said, about to rise to his feet again. But a gentle hand stopped him with a touch to his elbow.

"You said there's others like you. And then there's the angels. They could help us find another way. A way that doesn't involve you going on a suicide mission, and leaves us to run off together."

He smiled, turning his head at last to look at him. After a moment, he gave a soft chuckle. "That's a load of bullshit and you know it. We've exhausted all other options, Ty," he said. "For once, please just admit that I'm right."

-------------------------------------------------

"I... have this gift, you see. I used to think it was a curse, but I know different now. It was my salvation."

"I don't understand."

"I can, I have saved damned souls by taking their sins away, taking them into myself. I used to have an actual system in place. Lots of paperwork. You should know, you were there. But then... there were others. More complex that required more... personal means of conduct."

He narrowed his eyes, puzzling it out before turning a faint shade of red. "Oh... So that's what you were calling it."

He nodded, his own cheeks turning a little pink. "It sustains me, the power of sin. It's what makes me immortal. Allows me to survive. The more I take in, the more I devour, the stronger I become. But I change," he said, casting his eyes away. "There's something inside me that grows powerful, too. Each time I take in more, the hunger grows. And now, it's unbearable. I lose myself, and it consumes me."

"You're becomming like them. One of those... creatures. The Legion."

Al sighed, propping himself up on his elbows as he let his head fall back to stare up at the stars. He had forgotten how beautiful such a sight was. It was calming, serene. But such emotions did not comfort him now. There were things he needed to say, to explain, just in case when the deeds were done, and the dustclouds settled... Tycen would understand what had happened to him, and why he may have to do the unthinkable.

"Al?" he asked, shifting to lay on his side, a nimble hand sliding across the immortal's exposed abdomen. Fingertips tracing scars over a lifetime old. "You know how to stop it, right? You've gone for 2000 years keeping it under control. Why can't you-"

"In the past, I've had friends, even a family. They gave me hope, and strength. And I could keep the balance, knowing that they believed in me, and cared for me. I wanted more than anything to keep them safe. They gave me a reason to keep the demon chained."

He leaned in close, pressing his lips against Al's shoulder with a sigh. "What about me?"

He smiled, turning his head and returning the affection with a light kiss to the younger's forhead. "Strawberries," he said, shifting his weight so that he too was on his side, facing the 34 year old.

"What?"

"You taste like strawberries."

"That's hardly the thing to say at a serious time like this."

"Is it?" he said, smirking and draping an arm over Tycen's side, pulling the mortal against him. "I crossed radioactive continents. Eight different wars, five of them with only one eye and a chunk of shrapnel in my lung. I've had people standing right next to me one minute, and the next they've got a bullet in their brain. Vampires have tried to use me as their never-ending food source. And I've taken a walk around the moon without a space suit." Al smiled, and it was a mischevious one. "And all the while, the one thing that kept me going was that maybe, just maybe, I might find that person that always made me think of strawberries every time I was lucky enough to get a taste."

Tycen laughed, pressing his forhead against the other man's shoulder and shaking his head. "You and your stories. You always have to make things sound so dramatic. News Flash Al, you're not the center of the universe."

He couldn't help but join his laughter. "But it's true though," he said between breaths. "You do taste like strawberries."

As the pair fell into another fit of laughs, the darkness of Al's thoughts receeded. Replaced by the smile on his lover's lips and the warmth found in his large blue eyes as he took him again beside the fire.

The grim discussion was put off in favor of comfort and solace in one another's arms. But as he listened to the blond's breathing later in the night, he knew the dawn would find them, and force him to explain himself in full.

so, due to the fact i had nothing better to do while waiting with my mom in the ER, i pulled out my notebook and began to write random dribbles wherein me and my rp friends (some of them whom i no longer rp with at all) ended up being somehow turned into their 11-12 year old selves, and end up at Hogwarts as first years, while Harry Potter and the gang are in their 5th year.

this is what came of it...

enjoy.

also, this will not make ANY sense whatsoever.

oh! and ALSO..... there is no specific chronological order here. so don't worry if you get confused. n.n

---------------------------

things to note: Randy, Tyler, Sam, Ryan, and Al were all turned into younger children, yet retain their adult mindset, which of course will get them into trouble. the corresponding ages are:

Al - real age 33, new age 12

Sam - real age 32 (to start with), new age 11 (to start with)

Tyler - real age NA (died at 29 i believe, but mentally he's around 31?), new age 11

Ryan - real age NA (possibly around 30 or 31, but definately younger than Tyler by a bit, and younger than the others), new age 11

Randy - real age 31, new age 11

so, some acts that are not "kosher" for children are alluded to or actually interrupted (most likely by Ginny or Hermione) are in the opinion of the author perfectly fine as long as they happen amongst Al, Sam, Tyler, Randy, and Ryan since technically all five of them are over the legal age of consent... just putting that out there.

------------------------------------------------------

 What did he ever do to deserve this? He asked himself that numerous times over the last few weeks. At least he could see again. That was a positive sign, so they told him. But judging by what he saw, he doubted that.
 "Al! Stop running around naked!" Randy shouted, grabbing him by his shaggy black hair long enough to force a robe on him at least.
 Sam muttered under his breath as he smacked his head against the table with a loud crack. And Tyler... Well... He seemed to be coping with their unusual situation rather well, all things considered.
------------------
 "...This is not what I had in mind when I decided to go through my mid-life crisis early..." Sam muttered as Al finally settled down. Bribed with cake and bacon of course.
 Zeke smirked. "Finally, I am taller than Sam. This has been an excellent day."
 "How long until this all wears off and we're back to normal?" Tyler muttered.

----------------------------------

 "Samuel Devlin."
 He rolled his eyes and dragged his feet as he went up to sit in the chair. The talking hat dropped on his head, and it began to mutter to him.
 "Hrm... You don't like books so Ravenclaw isn't for you... And what's this?... Odd... You don't like school either, but Gryffindor is definately not for you... You're misunderstood, but you'll try to bite the first Hufflepuff that smiles at you..."
 "Get on with it, asshole," Sam replied darkly.
 "No doubt about this one," the hat replied sarcastically. "Slytherin!"
 "Totally called that one," Tyler said to Randy, who dropped a few gold pieces into his hand.
 "Alabaster Willem."
 "Looks like I'm next," he said with a grin, pinching Tyler's back, then Randy's as he passed by to take his turn in the chair.
 He plopped down, grabbed the hat, and put it on his head. "How do I look?"
 The hat grumbled at him in annoyance as Al adjusted it on his head.
 "Mr. Willem, please put your hands in your lap," McGonagll said insistantly.
 "That's not a good idea!" Sam called from the table of Slytherins.
 The hat continued to grumble. "You like to read trashy novellas," the hat said. "But not anything of use. No Ravenclaw for you, young man... You're too odd even for Hufflepuffs, I hate to admit. Tricky tricky..." it muttered.
 "If you take any longer, I'm gonna 'ave 'ta wear ye 'round school till ye figure this bullshit out."
 "Mr. Willem!" the professor snapped. "You will watch your language."
 "Yeah yeah..." he muttered.
 "You'd make a good Slytherin, that's obvious. But that last one's a trouble maker by himself. Let's not put you in the same house as him."
 "Please? I promise I'll behave."
 "Not likely," the house replied. "Gryffindor!"
 Randy and Tyler both sat with their mouths hanging open. "Well," Ryan chimed. "Nobody saw that comming, did they?"
---------------------------------
 Sam stumbled down the stairs, feeling around with one hand while holding his shorts up with the other. He wasn't keen on how big they were, but this early in the morning, he didn't care. First order of business after the bathroom... food. And coffee. If he could sneak the non-decaf past Al that is.
 Trodding across the hardwood, barefoot of course, his ears perked up at the sound of someone in the livingroom as he passed. "Al, you up?"
 Stupid question. He'd left him curled up naked at the foot of the bed like some kind of dog.
 It couldn't have been the twins. They hardly ever surfaced before 3PM at the earliest. Unless Eli had to work. Nessa then?
 No. He wasn't hearing the constant keyboard typing.
 Didn't matter. Food first. Then he would worry about burglers.
 He pushed his sunglasses up on his face before feeling around on his way to the kitchen.
 What he found was something he hadn't been expecting. The smell of freshly fried bacon. And someone just barely tall enough to work the stove.
 "What the hell?!"
 The boy squeaked, jumping back from the stove and the frying pan as if he'd been burned by grease. Sam got a good view of his face. Which didn't register on him right away. Something else did though...
 "WHAT THE FUCK! YOU'RE DEAD!"
 "OH MY GOD! YOU CAN SEE!"
 They were silent, staring at each other a moment before Sam blinked, and slowly realization hit him. Yes, he really could see.
 "Just what I fucking need. Another goddamn corpse in my kitchen."

----------------------------------

 "Randalph Harrison."
 She had just barely put the hat on his head before it began to speak to him.
 "Oh you're an odd one. Very bright. Booksmart you are. And very loyal... But you're deceptively cunning, too. Where to put you... where to put you..." it said softly, trying to make up it's mind. "Oh, what's this? I see..." it muttered. "HUFFLEPUFF!" 

 "Christopher Sedgwick."
 Tyler pushed his way forward, much to the surprise of his friends. Timidly, he sat in the chair, and the hat was put on his head. It was silent for a long moment before it began to speak.
 "...Oh... You're a strange one... Similar to your friends I see. But different... This isn't your first time being sorted... Another name comes to mind. Another time. Hufflepuff you were sorted into before. But much has changed. You're wiser than you were back then. Driven some could say..."
 His friends looked on, and the two red heads, identical Al noticed, were muttering amongst their friends about how long it was taking.
 "This is the longest I've seen the hat take," one said.
 "Since Harry got sorted his first year," finished the other.
 The hat went silent, considering the revelations it was picking up from the student beneath it. "Now that's interresting... A Gryffindor loyalty. With a splash of Slytherin cunning. No doubt things you've picked up along the way... But I think you'll do your best in... RAVENCLAW!"

 The hat didn't even touch the top of Ryan's head before it was already speaking. "You're completely insane," it said, not even having touched him before it shouted where he was to be sorted. "HUFFLEPUFF!"

 "Well then, guess we're not bunkmates anymore," Al said with a smirk.
------------------------------
 "Ye gods these robes're itchy as hell," Al complained, pulling his off and dropping it on the seat beside him.
 Sam rolled his eyes, staring out the window of their compartment.
 Ryan, who's feet didn't even hope to touch the ground, was kicking said feet in bordem.
 "I think we should be focusing on how to get out of this predicament," Randy suggested, reading through one of the tomes he had picked up in Diagon Alley while Al had been busy arguing with the owner of the shop about the lack of books he had dubbed "Porn Without Pictures."
 "Besides," he continued. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I really don't want to go through puberty again. The first time was embarrasing enough. There were feathers everywhere. So many feathers..."
 Sam laughed, and it was a strange, `squeaky sound. "What the hell are you, a fucking bird?"
 Tyler had been conspicuously quiet since they had boarded the train. Which, wasn't much of a difference to how he had been before. But when the treats cart came by, his eyes lit up and he bought an arm load of enchanted chocolate goodies.
 "Oi! What about the rest of us!" Al exclaimed when Tyler had refused to share.
 Sam gave off that same squeaky laugh. "You don't need any more sweets. Your ass already takes up most of the seat!"
 Al turned and punched him hard in the arm with a growl.
-------------------------
 "I wonder if I'm still undead," he mused, looking up from his potions homework.
 Sam smirked. "We could always test that theory," he said, his pre-teen face giving his wolfish grin a slightly more manic appearance than usual. "I read in one of my DADA books about a killing curse. It sounds promising."
 "I'm in the same class. It's not in the-"
 "I didn't say it was in the text book, jackass. It was in one I swiped from the restricted section."
 Al considered this for a moment. He'd heard rumors about one of his housemates and a killing curse. And he'd asked Tyler about it since he spent most of his time researching and reading anyway. "We gotta be careful though," he said at last. "It's s'posed to be one that'll get us kicked out."
 "Plus, if it works and you die, they'll think it was that Voldy-something or other that did it anyway."
 Al nodded. "Worth a shot. And if it doesn't work, would make for one hell of a practical joke on the guys."
 And that's how Sam and Al received their very first detention after testing out their idea unintentionally during the Halloween Feast five days later.
 It was much to many students', and some of their instructors' suprises that the pair had managed to last a month and a half before landing into detention. However, it was no suprise that the act which had earned it for them was something they had done together.
------------------------------
 "Oh ho. Pureblood. Wouldn't have known that by looking at you boy... Ironic isn't it?... But where to put you? A natural trouble maker. With a touch of hidden loyalty... but you have father issues, that you do. And a pessimist too. SLYTHERIN!"
--------------------------
 "Where have you been? Curfew-"
 "Fuck the curfew," Al said quite happily. "I just had me a good-"
 Randy clamped his hand over Al's mouth with an embarrassed smile. "Don't mind him. We had an accident in Charms today, and he's unable to stop talking before he speaks. Unfortunately, it's so strange and bizzare that we don't know how to cure him of it. So we were told to wait and let it wear off on its own."
----------------------------
 "So..." Al said.
 "We're stuck like this. Indefinately," Sam muttered, letting his head fall forward and smack his forhead on the table with a loud crack. "I hate my life. Again."
 "Look on the bright side," Ryan said dreamily. "At least we're all together and relatively healthy."
 Tyler stared at him a long moment before shaking his head. "Someday, I'm going to obliviate this entire experience from my mind and hide among the muggles again."
------------------------------
 " 'Christopher Sedwick'? " Al asked, giving his oldest friend a strange look.
 Tyler sighed. "Well... technically... yeah. At least, I think. I'm not sure. I've been reading up on the subject of reincarnation recently and-" He cut himself off and sighed. "You must think I'm losing my marbles."
 Al smiled kindly at him, which made him seem even more innocent than he truly was. He put a hand on his arm gently. "Listen mate," he said. "Ye know ye can always talk ta me 'bout crazy shit, yeah. I mean, look at me, I don't even know if I'm ever gonna be older than 12 again. Undead aging problem, remember?"
 He laughed softly to himself, indeed remembering his friend's predicament. "Well," he said. "There's this one concept that seems to get glossed over in all the books I've found. Well, except a few from the mug- I mean, from 'our' proper world. Most of these books here are just on the theory, not the actual... well, reality of it. And they just briefly mention the case of a 'walk-in'. I mean, I died, remember. Not that long ago, right?"
 He nodded. "Round two, three years ago. Yeah," he said.
 "So how can I be here, if I'm dead? This is an 11 year old body, Al. I didn't regress like you guys, but I didn't grow up to match either. I think something might have happened to the real Christopher, and somehow I got mixed up and sort of ended up here by accident."
 "So... lemme follow this," the raven haired boy replied. "What yer sayin is that it's like a revolvin door er a turnstile, right?"
 "What?"
 "Y'know. Like, one person's tryin ta go out the door, yer tryin ta go in. So, one of ye hops in one side of the door thing, the other guy hops in the other side, and ye just kinda push the door in a circle, right. An then yer inside an he's outside."
 It took him a moment to follow the logic. After all, Al tended to have strange analogies in his version of understanding. Which meant his logic wasn't always sound nor made much sense. After a bit, he nodded. "Yes. Something like that. Only in this case it's not a door, it's a body."
 "I think I get it," he said, leaning back in his chair and considering the idea a moment longer. "An ye think this is what happened? Like, ye was reincarnated, but not in the usual fashion of jus bein popped out of some lady's gut?"
 "That's the basic idea." He'd forgotten how dense his friend truly was. For someone who understood life and death in strange ways, Al definately wasn't able to grasp the more outlandish concepts. "But don't tell the others. Not just yet," he said.
 "I swear it, on me honor, yeah."
 This made him laugh quietly again. "Your honor? Since when did you have honor, you crossdressing manwhore," he snickered.
---------------------------
 "They're definately a strange bunch," Hermione commented.
 Ron nodded. "Since when did Slytherins hang out with anyone else but themselves anyway?"
 Ginny smiled. "Does it even matter?"
 "What? You got a crush on that scraggly one?" Ron asked, and he certainly wasn't amused. "I won't allow it."
 Hermione giggled. "I don't think he's your type Ginny," she said. "After all, have you seen the way he leers at that Ravenclaw?"
 "You don't mean..." she said in astonishment. Hermione nodded. And the two girls broke into a gigglefit.
 Ron cast Harry a look of horror and confusion, but mostly horror. "Save me," he said. "These girls won't stop."
 Harry joined in their laughter, not even knowing what it was about. But judging from the look Ron gave him, it must have been really something.
-----------------------------
 Randy sighed, gathering up the feathers tangled up in his bedsheets for the eighth morning in a row. "I can't wait until we get this mess sorted out," he said to Ryan. "I don't think I can take much more of this molting."
 "At least you'll have enough for a pillow soon," he said, kicking his feet as he watched from his bed. "Two in fact. Could you make me one?"
------------------------------
 "Mr. Willem! Mr. Devlin! Stop putting charms on Mr. Potter's robes!"
 "What?" Al whined. "I just wanted to see if all the rumors were true!"
 Sam stifled a snicker. It wasn't the first time he'd let Al's big mouth take the fall for him.
------------------------------
 "Nocturne Alley? You do know what they say about-"
 "Oh shut it," Al said. "They have some kick ass shops down yonder. Like this one place, makes a hell of a lot better wands than that Ollivander bastard."
------------------------------
 Dumbledore's Army. Now that looked promising. Plus, Sam surmised, he really didn't have anything better to do since the others had decided to actually focus on their homework lately.
------------------------------
 "Must you transfigure everything into KFC?"
 "What?" he said, licking his fingers. "Those damn house elves don't make fried chicken with the right signature spices I like. Plus, this is deep fried death and heaven at the same time. I WILL NOT BE DENIED!"
 Al blinked, staring at him before taking his bucket of chicken away. "Oh no ye don't," he said in the slightly mothering tone he had used so often on him. "I'm not goin through all that heart trouble mess with ye again."
 "But Al..." he whined.
 "No."
------------------------------
 He stood back and watched the others practice for a while.
 "Come on, you next Sam," Ginny encouraged, giving him a slight push. It wasn't the first time. She'd been on him all evening about joining in.
 Al strode out from the group across the room, his wand in its holster on his wrist.
 Sam smiled, slightly manic looking before nodding. "I think I will," he said, taking up the opposite end of the hall.
 "This is going to end in tears," Tyler said to himself with a sigh, pinching between his eyes.
 "Oh ho?" Al said, smirking. He looked like a geek when he did that.
 "Prepare to get your ass whipped," Sam said, returning the smirk as he pulled out his basilisk wand.
 "Stupefy!" they shouted at the same time, wands out. Their attack hit in mid air.
 "Stupefy!" they shouted again.
 This went on five more times before finally they both went flying backwards, still shouting and flinging it at each other despite the fact they were flying through the air into a good hard fall.
 "I'm gonna borrow this for a sec." Tyler couldn't take it anymore and grabbed Ryan's wand. Holding out both his and Ryan's he shouted out at them both from the crowd on his side of the room. "Stupefy!"
 The pair of trouble makers landed on the ground with a combined grunt and a whine.
 "Stop having pissing contests before you hurt yourselves! The both of you!" he snapped at them, and when both got to their feet again, they rejoined their respective sides of the room with their heads down.
------------------------------
 "Expecto Petronum!" Sam shouted, flicking his wand. From the stream of light that burst forth, a cat jumped out, chasing a ball of string.
 "Well that's just weird," Ron said. "Who conjours a ball of string with their's?"
 Hermione shrugged. It was the first she had ever heard of it.
 But not to be outdone, Al pulled out his wand.
 "Oh god, here we go again," Tyler intoned, which seemed to have become his mantra whenever the pair were together.
 Swishing his wand about, Al shouted. "Expecto Petronum!"
 And out popped the most adorable chihuahua anyone had ever seen.
 "Awwwww! Look at it! It's so cute!" Ginny cooed.
 Tyler stared at it for a long moment before looking at Al. Now that was a scary thought indeed. Such a tiny little dog for such an imposing person?...
 Then he noticed it was acting a little... odd.
 "No! How do you turn this thing off!" Al shouted, swishing his wand about as his little doggie chased Sam's cat around while yapping loudly.
 "Drop the wand! Drop the wand!" Sam was shouting.
 Tyler stared as Ryan and Randy giggled amonst themselves.
 "Eye bleach! Eye bleach!" Ron shouted, covering his eyes.
 And so it was decided that Sam and Al would never be allowed to cast their Petronums at the same time, or even in the same room. As they tended to... do very rude things to one another.
-------------------------
 "You're so weird," Ginny said, walking with him. "For a first year, I mean."
 He shrugged. He may have been 12, but since he'd never been to Hogwarts, let alone a magic school before, he, like Sam, had been stuck with the younger crowd.
 "Eh. There's always gotta be an odd ball in the house I guess," he replied with a grin, scratching the back of his neck.
 "So is it true? Did you really flirt with Malfoy?"
 He stared at her for a moment before laughing. "Nah. He's not really my type."
 Her eyes widened. "So you really DO like-"
 "Shh..." he said, hushing her. "Don't get too loud. I don't need the whole damn school knowin, alright."
 She nodded, looking around before speaking again, this time in a hushed tone. "So who was it?"
 "What?"
 "Which Slytherin were you flirting with?"
 "Yer gonna laugh," he said.
 "Promise I won't."
 "Yeah ye are."
 "I will not!"
 "Shhh!" he hissed at her.
 "Right," she said, giving a nod. "But you've got to tell me. I promise, not a word to anyone."
 "Especially Ron?"
 She nodded. "Especially Ron."
 "...Sam Devlin."
 "Oh my god," she managed to exclaim quietly. "Really? I didn't think he..."
 "He is. And, tell ye a secret, I know three other blokes too."
 "You don't mean..."
 He nodded. And her suspicions had been confirmed.
-------------------------
 So the story goes...
 Al has a crush on Sam, who's Ryan's older half-brother, who has a crush on Tyler, who's Randy's fraternal twin brother, and the pair of them are second cousins with Al.
 So the story goes.
 But only one man knows the truth.
 And his name is Albus Dumbledore.
-------------------------
 "Well... one year of Hogwarts done, six more to go apparently."
 Tyler sighed. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that. Hearing it out loud is discouraging."
 "I heard they're testing out the co-ed program at the Salem Institute," Al said. "Could always go into the exchange program, even though we're all Americans."
 "Everyone but you," Sam reminded him. "You have to go back to Dublin."
 "Nuh uh. Nessa's living at the Manor now, remember. At least until we get this mess sorted out."
 "You mean until we grow up," Tyler said. "Again."
 "Hey, at least this time you might make it to thirty," Al said cheerfully, which had the opposite effect.
--------------------------
 Tyler and Randy spent much of the summer pouring through volumes upon volumes of various family histories, trying to discover any clue as to what had happened to them and why. Apparently, Sam was a pureblood as far as the wizarding world was concerned, and Al only a half-blood.
 Whereas Tyler "Christopher", Randy, and Ryan were all muggle-born.
---------------------------
 "A plague," Tyler concluded.
 Al's eyes grew wide in panic. Sam chuckled.
 "More specifically," Randy supplied. "A curse. And not a simple one either. This one's old, hundreds of years in fact. Al, you'd know this one. Remember back in highschool in English we were reading Romeo and Juliete?"
 He nodded. "Yeah. But I don't see what this has to do with-"
 " 'A plague o're both your houses.' " Tyler quoted. "Mercutio, Romeo's best friend."
 Again, Al nodded. "But I still don't see-"
 "It's based on a true story. Tristan and Isolde. But... let's put this into terms we'll all recognize. Capulets and Montegues," Tyler said. "Sam and Al, you'll be the basis for this. Sam is the Capulets, while Al, you're the Montegues."
 "So where does that leave you three?"
 "I'm getting to that," he said. "Since we lack a Juliette-"
 "Okay, wait. It'd make more sense if I was Romeo, and Sam was the Prince. See, that would make you Juliete. Cause Romeo stole Juliet from the Prince."
 Tyler blinked, then blushed fiercely at his logical deduction.
 "So where does that leave me and Randy?"
 "Well, if we incorporate Al's oddly timed and rather insightful logic, that would make Randy... hrm... Rosaline. Yes, Rosaline."
 Randy nodded appreciatively. "Since I was in an official relationship with Romeo here first, and in the story, Romeo pines after Rosaline before meeting Juliet."
 Tyler nodded. "So now, we have the problem of Ryan."
 "Hey! I'm not a problem!"
 "Wait wait wait a minute here," Sam interrupted. "Romeo dies in the story. As we can clearly see, Al is very much alive."
 "Not quite," Tyler said. "He's undead. And he died before Juliet. Considering Al's condition when we met him, he is very much dead."
 "Undead," Al corrected him with a grumble.
 Tyler sighed, rubbing his temple. "For the sake of explanation, let's just say you're dead, alright. It'll make this much easier to comprehend."
 "Alright, fine," he said, crossing his arms over his chest with a groan.
 Tyler rolled his eyes. Randy nodded. Ryan wasn't paying attention at this point.
 "Okay, the main characters. So Romeo died first. Al died before all of us. Juliet died second, I was the first to our knowledge to die after Al. Depending on which version you're looking at, the Prince would also die, but he's a minor character so it's a moot point by then. In other versions, he lives. So, Sam's still alive, he's the Prince. Randy's still alive, so he's Rosaline who we never actually see, on account of him officially dating Al first. And since Ryan clung to Al all the time, and was always jealous of the rest of us that makes him..."
 "Tybalt!" Sam shouted cheerfully. "Who gets shot in the head!"
 "No," Al said. "He gets shot in the chest."
 "I thought it was the side," Randy supplied.
 Tyler threw his hands in the air. "I give up. Ryan is Mercutio, alright."
 The three others considered this for a moment, then turned to stare at their fifth wheel. "So... he's to blame?"
 "Maybe. Maybe not. But there's definately a plague, I mean curse, on both your houses."
 "So how did you guys get mixed up in this?"
 "Well..." Tyler began, and Randy jumped in.
 "See, what happened is we traced back as far as we could all of our family trees. Sam's was the worst because we only had his mother's side, and not his real dad's," he said. "But, as far as we can tell, and this is going to sound gross and odd at the same time. Somewhere way back in history, my ancestors and Tyler's original ancestors were related. I came off a branch from a daughter, he came off a branch from a son. Ryan and Sam's ancestors have the same issue. You're suprisingly not related to us in any way. Which is kinda good, I suppose, but not really. See, your line is related to Ryan and Sam's by marraige only, and it was an arranged one too. Thus officially and legally binding your family trees. So, sleeping with Ryan is a very, and I stress this VERY distant form of incest."
 Sam stared at him a moment, then looked at Al. And the pair blinked at each other. "Well," Al said at last. "At least that explains where Eli and Zeke got that gene from."
 "Hey! You're the one that made a move on me!"
 "As if! You drunkard shoved your hand down my trousers!"
 "You shoved my smokes down there!"
----------------------------------------
 "So, now that we kind of maybe have an idea of what caused this mess, is there any way to reverse it?"
 "Unfortunately... we haven't worked that part out yet."
 Randy nodded in agreement.
 "I swear to GOD if I don't finish puberty soon I'm going to kill every one of you! Starting with Ryan and working my way through to Al!"
 "On the plus side," Randy offered. "We can completely embarrass our children by telling them what to do in public."
 "This is true," Sam said, stroking his hairless chin.
-----------------------------------------
 "I heard some kid tell the first years you've got the Dark Mark."
 Al stared at her. "What?"
 "Is it true?"
 "Why do you always ask me that? Is this rumor true? Is that rumor true? Gods Ginny, you sound like a broken record."
 "Well, is it?"
 He sighed, pulling up the sleeves of his robes and showing her his collection of tattoos. "Do you see any of them moving?"
 "Oh my god... there's so many of them..."
 "Not all tattoos are the sign of the Dark Lord," he muttered, letting his sleeves fall back down.
------------------------------------------
 "You're really powerful for firsties," he said. "Probably better than Potter."
 "I wouldn't say that," Sam said. Though, he didn't believe his own words. "We just practice a lot. Picking up bits and pieces here or there."
-----------------------------
 "What are they up to..."
 "Spies maybe?"
 Ron nodded. "I heard Al's got the Mark."
 "He does not," Hermione said, then turned to Ginny. She seemed to be the only one who ever got information out of their housemate. "Does he?"
 She chewed her lip. "Well..." she said. "He's got lots of tattoos..."
 "See! He does!" Rony exclaimed.
 "He does not. He showed them to me himself. None of them are the Dark Mark. Most of them are in latin though. But I couldn't decipher it."
 "Can you remember any of them?" Hermione asked, intrigued. "I might be able to translate-"
 "I promised I wouldn't try. He says they're protection spells his mom put on him when he was a baby. Says that Hogwarts is dangerous, and she wants to make sure he makes it out alive."
 "I don't think he IS alive," Harry said. "He got up after being hit with an AK."
 "Maybe it was his charm things," Hermione said. "Protecting him. After all, your mum's love protected you. Why not him too?"
 "I don't think it works like that, Mione," Ron said.
 "Wow, Ronald Weasley actually had a thought," Hermione teased.
---------------------------------
 "Al, you can't just invite random people over. It's-"
 "Come on Sam! It's the summer! And it's only for a month! You know how horrible Harry's relatives are! And besides, I think Fred and George would have tons of fun here!"
 Sam sighed. When Al was in that mood, he knew it was best to just let him have his way.
 "Alright, but you're explaining why we sleep in the same room on the same bed."
 "Fine fine," he muttered.
-----------------------------------
 "Okay, a few ground rules," Al said. "One, there won't be any wand magic in this house. Or in this area. Despite how open minded we Americans are about that sort of thing, it'd be best not to draw too much attention to ourselves. Anything that doesn't requite wands is perfectly fine," he said, then looked straight at Ginny. "And no sneaking around upstairs with the invisibility cloak."
 "But-"
 "Trust me," Tyler said. "It's REALLY not a good idea."
-------------------------------------
 "Whoa... You all live in this big house by yourselves?" Ron said, looking at the back of the Manor.
 Sam nodded.
 "Yup," Al beamed. "And there's still room enough for more."
--------------------------------------
 "Ezekiel James Devlin! You get your head out of the oven NOW!" Al shouted, causing the young adult to stand upright, despite the fact that the voice yelling at him was in that awkward squeaky pitch of a teen.
 "Whoa..." Ron said, munching on a piece of toast.
 Al grabbed Zeke by the ear and dragged him out of the kitchen, much like Ron's own mother did to him at times.
---------------------------------------
 "Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" Hermione exclaimed, turning and rushing out into the hall as Sam fell onto the floor.
 Sam flailed in a mess of sheets. "Don't you people ever knock!"
 "Fuckin 'ell! I told you to charm the door!" Al shouted at him.

ah. here we are again for another round of "Another Green Notebook" dribblefest. nearing the end now. after this, there's maybe two more posts of this nonsense to go!

sorry for posting again what has previously been posted. and for everything else, enjoy. n.n

---------------------------------------

He sat on the boulder, lit up his cigarette, and leaned back. The moon was rising. The chill of night was comming on.

He felt nothing. In the end, all a man has is himself.

This stubborn bastard learned that lesson the hard way.

Centuries ago, it didn't have to be that way. Millenia ago, it wasn't that way.

He sat upon that boulder, overlooking the lights of the city below. Feeling a presence behind him, he stubbed out the freshly lit cancer stick and tucked it safely back into his pack.

"I knew I'd find you up here Belial."

"What do you want Lev?"

"We've found Him."

"Where?" he asked, tearing his gaze away from his city.

"A mission in San Angeles. Looks like he's been there a long time, hiding his presence with the help of the nunnery."

He nodded.

"Lucifer's sent out some men-"

"Tell him to call them back."

"belial-"

He stood, brushing himself off. "Haniel is mine."

"Lucifer won't be pleased."

He smirked, his face briefly illuminated by a passing helicopter above. "Lucifer can suck my balls. Leave Haniel to me. You just get Lucy's men to back the fuck off."

He glanced back over his shoulder to look at his city, his New York, before fading into the rising night.

---------------------

"Sister Josephine, where is Father Connor?"

"I'll never tell the likes of you!"

"I'm a patient man. I'll ask you again. Where is Father Connor?"

"Your kind will never get your hands on the Holy Scriptures!"

He was lightning quick. His hand was wrapped around her throat, and his green eyes were wild. "There are twenty seven 'men' on their way here as we speak, Sister. I don't have time for games. Tell me where he is, and I will ensure your end will be swift. Don't tell me, and I will leave you for Lucifer's amusement."

--------------------

"Tell me where he is! Tell me where you're hiding the Angelican!"

"You can kill me, demon, but you will never find him!"

"It is alright, Father Connor. This one will not harm him. Belial isn't like the others. He seeks to warn Haniel."

"I will not trust a Demon. It is not our way. Sister Josephine, how can you-"

"He spared my life, Father. He could have killed me, or worse, left me for Lucifer to find. But he didn't."

"It's a trick!"

"Father, please! We haven't much time left!"

"Father Connor, I loved Haniel like no other. I would gladly face the wrath of God himself should things come to that if it would get that man to safety."

Father Connor's face changed as he took in the sorrow of the demon's eyes. At last, he understood Raziel's words. "You are the one who betrayed Lucifer after the Fall. You were the one who defied God himself and allowed safe passage of sinners into Heaven."

"I am. And I am running out of time. I have steered Lucifer away from Haniel all this time. But he's the last of his kind. I must protect him."

"why?... Why such determination?"

He took off his glove and raised his hand. A silver band shone brightly in the sunlight. "Years ago before your ancestors were twinkles in their parents' eyes, I made a promise to that blond bitch. And damn it, I never break a promise."

--------------------

"Alabaster."

"It's been too long since I've heard that name."

The robed figure nodded, comming to stand at his side. "Is it November 8th already?"

"I told him last tim I'd bring beer and his favorite food."

"Fried chicken?"

He smiled. "Triple fried, just the way he liked it."

"Al, you can't keep doing this to yourself."

"Doing what?"

"Living in the past. He's gone. They're all gone. They wouldn't want you to-"

"How would you know what they'd want? You never liked them anyway. Especially Sammy-boy."

"Please, let's not argue. Not anymore."

"Fine by me. You always win out in the end," he said, kneeling beside the grave. He opened a can of beer and poured it over the headstone.

"Come on. It'll be dark soon. The city'll be crawling with Lucifer's soldiers."

"Al?"

"Yeah?" he asked, standing up and brushing the dirt off his jeans.

"Do you really think you can do it? Stop this madness and send Lucifer back to Hell?"

"Yeah. I can do it."

"You'll be sent back too."

"I know. I'm ready for it this time. I can handle myself down there."

He nodded. "Can you save Ryan?"

"Absolutely." No hessitation.

"You're scared, aren't you?"

He laughed, and scratched the back of his head. "If I could die, I'd be scared to death, tell the truth," he replied, taking one final look at the beer soaked headstone. "Come on, we've been here long enough. I've got a safe house nearby. We can wait out the night there."

ah. here we are again. Another Green Notebook entry. we're almost near the end of the notebook now. almost. out of 180 pages, not all of them were used for dribbles, and a slightly decent chunk wasn't even used at all. i may save those in my recycle bin for other projects and things.

anyway, as always, my apologies if any of these have been posted before. they shan't return again. and for everything else that hasn't seen the light of day till now, enjoy!

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"You can rest here tonight," he said with a kind smile. "I'll fix up the couch for you and-"

"Damnit Al! You brought back another goddamn stray, didn't you? Don't lie to me! I can smell the bastards 20 miles off!"

"Oh shut it you old blind bastard! This ai'n got nuthin to do with you!"

"I fucking KNEW it!" Sam shouted. "I'm lockin your ass out!" The bedroom door slamed shut swiftly after, and five deadbolts slid into place.

"I'm sorry for causing you trouble. I didn't know your boyfriend-"

"Kid, he ai'n my boyfriend."

"but he said... Aren't you and he..."

"Don't short the brain out tryin to figure it out kiddo. It's just too damn complicated." He reached over and ruffled the boy's hair with a laugh before standing up to fetch a pillow and blanket from the linen closet.

"You go get yourself a bath and I'll make up the couch, yeah."

"But where are you going to sleep? He locked you out."

He smirked. "He knows I'll bust down the door if he doesn't let me in eventually," he said. "Oh... if you need a lamp, we keep the spares in the bottom of the linen closet. Help yourself."

-----------------------

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this..."

"Relax. Nobody'll recognize you. Hell, you look like your sister... only better. Now hold still. I don't wanna poke your eyes out."

"Not like I ever use the damn things anyway," he grumbled, but he did like he was told.

"Well, I LIKE your eyes. I think they're handsome... and the cloudiness makes them a little sexier too," he said, nipping at the blind man's chin as he finished applying the last of the make-up.

"My my, what a pretty young woman you make Miss Samantha," Al said with a snicker.

Sam growled at him. "Let's get this damn bet over with..."

------------------------

"What the HELL do you think you're doing Al!" Sam hissed. Al smiled against his friend's neck. "there's so many hot guys around here I can't help but keep my hands on you."

"Liar."

"Maybe. But I don't want any other bloke tryin to take what's mine."

"I'm not some chew toy Al. I don't belong to you."

-------------------------

"How do you stay so young looking? You botox?"

"No, I'm... undead, remember. I don't really age. When you're seventy, I'll still look and feel seventeen. Well... maybe more like 20... If I'm lucky. I could always have some work done, wrinkle myself up a bit so you wouldn't look like a pedophile."

"You never did tell me how you got... well... what you are. It's not every day you meet a horny talking corpse."

"That's one story you won't get out of me."

"Not even for an Al snack?" Sam grinned as he exaggerated grabbing his rear.

"Not even for that," he replied.

"Bet your dumb ass told Randy."

"No, not quite. It's... something I try hard to forget," he said.

--------------------------------

"He's like you, that kid." He wrapped his hand around the long neck of the bottle. "Green eyes, red hair. Scrawny and quiet."

"How'd you guess?"

"I'm blind, not deaf. I asked him myself."

"He's like me. He's... mine."

"How do you know?"

"The timing. His age. He's dead inside. Half in this world, half in another. He's lost, alone. All these years spent trying to fill a bottomless void only to meet me and discover that not even I can help him."

"I don't think we're talking about the kid anymore, are we?"

"When I was five years old, I was taken right off the street. Five years old Sam. And I was stripped, beaten, and raped. Every single day of my life for 10 years. I forgot my name, I couldn't remember a time when I didn't wake up to the sounds of my own screaming. I couldn't recall the faces of my family, or if I even had one. Or the smell of grass after a good rain.

"Ten years of pain. Ten years of a steady diet of bread, cum, and water. And then, a woman came. She said she was going to make me a real man. She came down into the dungeon day after day... and she..." He was quiet. Wringing his hands in his lap anxiously, drawing in a shakey breath as he looked away from his dear friend's sightless stare of... shock? Disbelief? He didn't dewll on what his friend might now think of him. He needed to get it out. He needed to get the burden of his past off his back once and for all.

"That's why I don't trust women. All those years of being used by men, and my first conscious memory of a woman was so frightening, so painful that it literally made me afraid of them all.

He sighed, staring down at his now shaking hands. He tried, and failed, to will them back into stillness. "But that's not the worst of it. Before all of that, I was a sick, frail child. Born with a weak heart. Couldn't run, couldn't even go down a few stairs without fainting. And when I got better, somehow, those monsters knew it. My heart would give out, and they'd get a doctor. Nurse me back to health only to do it all again. And each time they brought me back, part of me stayed dead. Part of me would stay behind in the firey pits of Hell. And it seemed a paradise compared to what my life was like. I remember... the last time, the very last time I died. There was a man waiting for me there. He was so kind. So strong and powerful. And he told me to go back. He told me not to be afraid. That he'd go with me, and he'd make sure no one ever hurt me again.

"the next thing I remember is waking up naked in the snow. I was so cold. An American man and his brother found me. They smuggled me into the country, into New York. They took care of me, and they helped me find out what I am."

---------------------------

"There are others out there, like you. Leviathan, Samael, Lucifer. And another unknown."

----------------------------

"Daddy!" the girl exclaimed, running down the hall into his opened arms.

----------------------------------------

----------------------------------------

----------------------------------------

"Tem?"

"Yeah?" he said, closing his eyes and resting his head against his lover's chest.

"I love you," he said. "Just thought you'd like to know."

"That's the first time you've said it like that."

"Like what?" Joe asked, a bit puzzled.

He sighed and nuzzled his face against his chest. "Like you really mean it."

-----------------

"The pair of you, perfectly balanced. Alone you are strong, but your power consumes," she said, breathing in the thick, toxic vapours. "Together, you are unstopable. But something looms overhead. I can scarecely see it through the veil."

--------------------

He was a tall young man. His body trim, well kept. His face was soft. Icy blue eyes opened as he yawned, stretching his once limp limbs.

"Leviathan," Belial said smiling. "Welcome to Earth, my friend." He held out his hand, and Leviathan took it. Belial pulled him to his feet.

"Why does it hurt so?"

"The pain will pass. It is only the soul dying inside the body."

-----------------

"Many years ago, my ancestor did terrible things. But they were not by his own will."

-------------------

"Long ago our ancestors were the destitute, the outcast, and the tossed aside. But one man saw the good in them, and he took them in. Through him, they reclaimed their pride and their freedom. They reclaimed their lives. None of us would be here, had it not been for him... The Boss. He asked for nothing in return for his kindness except friendship and loyalty."

"We began 2000 years ago as an army of 10,000. But now, we're 100,000 strong!" a woman shouted.

"You there!" Belial snapped.

The woman came forward, and grinned.

"What is your name?"

"I am Carmina, of the house Hayden," she snapped as she saluted, a classic 21st century sniper rifle hanging off her back.

He smiled and gave a small nod. "I see the love of firearms is hereditary."

"Sir?"

"Your patriarch, Hayden Westbrook. Born in Glasgow, raised in Ireland. His idea of solving any problem, especially spiders, was to shoot to kill."

--------------

He stopped, turning and stepping back in front of a young woman who stood at attention. She was tall, she was proud, she was weary. But he saw her back stiffen, her pupils dialate and shrink back again as she tried to maintain perfect stature in front of the general.

"I know you," he said, giving her a small smirk. She could not help herself, and gave one in return.

He gave a small nod. "House of Harrison, the line of Connor, correct."

"No, sir," she snapped. "House of Devlin, line of Willem."

"I see," he said, his smirk broadening into a genuine smile. "One of the Black Widow's offspring then."

"Yes, sir. The Lady Nessa Rose is my line's matriarch, sir."

"Good. We'll need a good eye for a flamethrower. How are you with tanks?"

"Only the old Soviets will do, sir."

----------------------------------------

"Al? That you?"

"Yeah. Gimme two ticks, yeah."

"what the hell are you doin over there?"

"Pissin on Aiden. What else would I be doin?"

"Damnit Al, she's been dead for 15 years. Just let it go."

"I am."

"That's not what he meant!" an identical voice barked angrily.

--------------------------

"Oh shut up," Al snapped, burrying his face into Sammy's neck.

"Hey! Don't fuckin bite me! Fuckin vampire!"

But Al ignored him, growling like some caged beast as he straddled the smaller man's lap.

"stop that!" Sammy yelled, trying to shove Al off of him. But the taller man wouldn't budge.

"Look, we can either do this the fun way or I'll make you. So just try and enjoy it asshole."

"You'd rape me?!"

"If I had to, yeah."

"You wouldn't dare."

He sat up straight, glarind down into his mossy eyes with a wicked grin. "Is that a challenge, Mr. Donnelly?"

----------------------

"Can I come in?"

"No."

"I left my boots under the bed."

"So?"

---------------------

"Sunuva!-" he screamed, holding his head as he nearly jumped over the back of the sofa.

---------------------

"Hi. My name is Alice. How do you do?" he said with a ruby smile. "Sammy never told me how delightful a family he has."

"This has got to be some kind of a joke."

"Excuse me?"

"Sammy, with a girlfriend? That's hard to believe."

-------------------

"So, what does your girlfriend do?"

"Alice is NOT my girlfriend."

"Say what you want," she said. "But a mother always knows."

"She's a teacher at some college."

"Oh, well! That explains it then."

"explains what?"

"Her cheerfullness. But she does seem a little young to be a teacher..."

"Don't let her looks fool you. She's a lot older than she seems."

----------------------

"Look, I'd rather be myself right now, but Sammy didn't want you all to know how-"

"I know."

"If you don't tell anyone else, I'll let you raid my closet and even give you some tips for hiding certain 'things' if you want."

-----------------------

"Marshall and I are going out for a while. Call if you need anything, love," he said, giving Sammy a small kiss on the cheek. He took Marshall by the arm and giggled as they went out the door.

 

in case no one has noticed, many of the things from "another green notebook" posts aren't exactly chronological, and are often contradicting. XD but, i'd like to point out that despite their non-cannonicity (in most cases) they do happen in the same universe.

still confusing?

okay, how's this? the Eight Doctor Adventures book series of Doctor Who is not considered 100% canon material, since it is in book/novel form and not televised like the rest of the series. This presents further problems when the Gallifrey series of novels also takes place, and Longbarrow, and then of course the novels that go along with the New Who series, and so on and so forth. though not 100% canon, they all take place in the same Whoniverse, despite all of them contradicting one another. see what i mean?

okay. if you're still confused. then i don't think i can really explain it to you.

anyway, enjoy. and sorry if some of these have been posted before.

like i said in a previous post somewhere (or maybe on my xanga) i'm ripping the pages out when i've got them typed up so i don't repeat them ever again.

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He pulled his hands out of his pocket, reaching the grubby fingers into the glass cabinet for the badly wrapped box on the bottom shelf. "What's this?"

"What's what?" Al called from the kitchen area.

"This box," Sammy said, giving it a shake. Something inside rattled lightly.

Al came around the screens with a tray of cookies and cocoa. "That was a gift," he said, setting the tray down on the coffee table.

"From who? It doesn't say," he said, shaking it again. "It's pretty light."

He didn't answer at first. Instead he busied himself with the tray. Setting the cups on matching saucers, adding a few cookies beside them.

"Hey! Answer my question!"

"It was from Sam," he said quietly, placing napkins down before he sat in the recliner. "He was so proud of himself. God only knows why. He'd picked it out and somehow managed to wrap it without help. But... he never had a chance to give it to me."

"Oh," Sammy said, sitting down in front of a cup. He set the box down on the tray. "Sorry."

"It's okay," he said. "It was a long time ago."

"But it still hurts."

"Like i've been stabbed in the chest with a machete," he replied casually, dipping a cookie into his cocoa. "But it's getting better." He smiled softly. "I've stopped crying myself to sleep at least," he joked.

"You should open it."

He shook his head.

"Why not? He got it just for you."

"Yeah... But what if I don't like it. I can't really complain about it 40 years after the fact." He laughed lightly, holding his cup in both hands and snuggling deep into the recliner's seat. "Besides, the value of a gift isn't determined by how much it cost, but by the reasons and feelings of the person giving it. I know it sounds silly, all this sentimental bullshit."

"No, it's not silly. Well, it is, but... it isn't," Sammy said, eyeing the box as if he knew the value of what sat inside.

"Ah well. No point dwelling on it. It's just a silly little present. I'm sure he got is as a joke, really. He was always like that. At least, when it came to me anyway."

He cast AL a rueful glare before muttering under his breath.

"He was only ever nice to me when he wantes something I wouldn't let him have. Other than that, we fought all the time... even when we-" He stopped and looked down into his cup. "Sorry," he said sheepishly before regaining his composure. "Would you like some more cocoa?"

"No. I'm fine, thanks," his guest said, having watched his host bounce back and forth between pleasant to thoughtful, and down into a strange fondness as he spoke of constant fighting. Then the sudden shift back to politeness and hospitality in the last instant.

He smiled, the quiet, sentimental man hiding once more behind a mask of forced contentment. Even now that he was so close to the man who haunted him, the Bogeyman looked so lonely.

----------------------

"When you're young you think you have all the time in the world. Truth is, you don't. And you put things off. One day becomes two. Days turn into weeks... Before you know it you're old and wrinkled and there isn't any time left."

------------------------

"What do you think is in it?"

"Dunno."

"Open it."

"No."

"What if it's the big romantic gesture you've always wanted?"

"Sam? Romantic? Trust me, the world would explode before that would happen."

"It might be."

"It's not."

"How would you know? You haven't even opened it!"

"Even if it is, it doesn't matter now."

"Yes it does."

He shook his head and put it back on the shelf.

"Open it!"

"I said no." He closed the cabinet.

"but-"

"I know. But i'd rather not know than be dissapointed."

"Dissapointed?"

He nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure I'd love whatever it is. But... I want him to be there when I do, so I can either show him how much I love it or bean him in the head with it. Which... is impossible all things considered."

-----------------------------

"Everyone made him out to be this awful, cold person. But he wasn't. Not really. He could fool everyone else, but he couldn't fool me. He'd always been an asshole, but I knew it was his way of saying what he couldn't really say, even if he was drunk." He smiled warmly. "I know he'd never admit it out loud. And neither could I."

-----------------------

In fact, he truely was. He had built a wall between himself and the world that day. He had ceased being himself, and became a shell through which nothing came or went.

Desperately people tried to get him to open up. But it seemed that the more they tried, the more reclusive the once amiable man would become. At last, he had been left alone, the haunt of Devlin Manor. He'd gone about his days there the same way he had before that fateful day. He would make meals for two. Change the linens though they hadn't been slept in. He would even argue with thin air, as if his worse half had never left.

And then, the nightmares began. Night after night he would toss and turn in that queen sized bed. And each night he would wake, screaming out his name...

Only to realize he wasn't even there.

----------------------------------

"Hi, are you Abbigail?"

"yes."

He held out his hand daintily with a smile. "I'm Alice. Alice Eveline. I wrote to you a few months ago."

"Oh, yes. Come in, come in. Pardon if I don't stand and great you."

"It's quite alright, ma'am," he said, waiting for her to turn her chair around, then followed her to the sitting room.

"This is quite a lovely apartment you have Miss Abbigail."

"Please, have a seat," she said, motioning to the couch.

"Thank you," he said, pushing up his glasses.

"To what do I owe the honor that's brought someone from Al's side of the family calling on me?"

He smiled as polite as he could manage. "As I explained in my letters, my grandfather has recently passed."

"It took him long enough, the old bastard," Abbigail said.

Al bit his tongue and swallowed his pride, trying to maintain his composure. "His final wish was for Mr. Devlin's artwork to be returned to the Manor."

"Why?"

"My grandfather was very fond of your uncle, as I understand it. But I don't have any legal standing since I'm not a blood relative and the two never... made things official." He reached into his purse, pulling out a pamphlet he'd scooped up from the museum on his way over. "If you would lend me your help, I would be more than happy to provide as much funding as you need for the new African Art and Culture wing at the museum. Consider it a trade for your help."

--------------------

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I've been where you are before. Not knowing who you are, or what you're supposed to be."

"Yeah?"

"I found what I was looking for, and at first I was happy. Overjoyed. But after a while, I realized it really wasn't what I wanted. I was where I was supposed to be, with the people I was supposed to be with... but something was missing. And I only realized what it was after it was much too late."

 "Daddy, I have a question."
 "Yeah?" he said, stirring the pot of soup as he switched the phone to his other ear.
 "Well... I've been trying to figure out something, and I don't think I understand."
 "Spit it out love," he said, raising his shoulder so he could keep the phone against his ear as he opened a jar of parsley.
 "How was I born?"
 "Simple," he said nonchalantly. "Yer mum had a cesarian."
 "Yeah... I know," Nessa said. "But I mean... _how_ was I-"
 He smiled and added some of the herb to the soup before picking up a jar of thyme and repeating. "Well, when mommies and daddies fall in love-"
 "Not that. Come on, daddy," she said laughing. "I'm 27 years old. Throw me a bone here."
 "You want the honest to gods truth?"
 "Yes. Please, because I can't quite figure out how two men-"
 "AL!" Sam shouted from the dining room. "Is dinner ready yet!"
 "Hold on a minute love. Sam's bitchin again," he said, grabbing the phone and holding it against his chest. "IN A MINUTE YA OLD BASTARD!"
 "Come in here and say that again jackass!"
 Al sighed and continued stirring the soup as he returned the phone to his ear. "I can't really explain it right now. I'm in the middle of fixing dinner."
 "Well, I kind of figured since it's like, what, 6 o'clock there and uncle Sam's screaming," she said with a giggle.
 Al nodded. "Check your e-mail tomorrow morning, hun. It'll tell you everything you ever wanted to know."
 "You're the best."
 "I know," he said. "But don't tell your mother that. He'll have a fit."

 And so, when Nessa Rose sat down to check her e-mail that morning, the "explanation" she received was a poor cut-and-paste job of two anatomical charts put together in the most strange, disturbing, and disgusting way she could have ever pictured.
 She was vomiting for weeks and vowed to never ask her father for any answers concerning things like that ever again...

-----------------------------------------------------

author's note: the "chart" in mention actually exists, and was put together by the person who was rping Randy, al's then husband and "mother" of his two children, at the time. it was created as an explanation for MPreg in the RP. you can see the disturbingness for yourself: http://img126.imageshack.us/img126/9453/untitled9mn1.jpg