Generation 4, Chapter 10: Bad timing

"I have a surprise for you, but I'm not sure you've recovered enough from the ordeal with Vala...," Darcy giggled to herself as she spoke, leaving me frustrated. She would forever poke fun at me for allowing Vala to walk all over me and ruin my supposed "perfect" demeanor. I had been a fool, I suppose. Once a liar, always a liar, it seems. I had been a tool, something to keep her entertained while she was running away from her old life. But not anymore. I wasn't going to let anyone get under my skin again like she did. I had been too hopeful of her, too trusting. It had always been a weakness of mine.

"I'm fine, thanks for thinking of that," I answered dryly, peeking around the room to look for any clues of the suspected surprise.

"You sure?" she raised a eyebrow, surveying my face. "'Cause you look a little green in the face, you know..."

When Darcy's teasing got too much, I always had a secret weapon to back me: Darcy also had some skeletons locked away in her closet, and she hated it whenever someone brought it up in a conversation. It was an awful thing to do, but desperate situations call for desperate measures.

"Darcy...," I began, clearing my throat for emphasis. This was going to need a powerful delivery to have the needed effect. "Do you remember the time you accidentally stumbled into a strip club when you were drunk?"

With shrewd eyes, she leaned back slowly in her chair, glancing between me and the door. "Whenever you're ready," she called to the door, turning her face away from me. I had hit a nerve. Finally.

The surprise proved to be extremely unexpected. Through the doorway came a confident looking Sam, and Jack that followed close behind, only to sneak over to the bar. Breaking old habits had always been a trouble for Jack, and it seemed not to have changed, even when he was working at the Air Force.

"I thought you would be excited to see these two again...," my rather irritated sister huffed, though smiled slightly at Sam. 

"I am," I smiled as Sam took a seat at our table. My sister didn't know it, but I had stayed in contact with Sam and Jack the entire time they were away. Especially Sam and I. She was an interesting individual, seeing things in people that were overlooked. She had believed in Jack's leadership skills, which landed him a good job where he could stay out of trouble. Whether or not I was attracted to her was still vague. Expressing my feelings had never been a strong point of mine.

"I see your sister has been giving you hell while we were away," Samantha chuckled as she observed the stares between Darcy and I. "I really wish I could have seen it all going down."

"Oh, you should have. Someone even made a surprise visit and knocked Daniel back on the ground. But this time, alcohol was to blame."

"What happened?" Sam's eyes grew, and Darcy shot in a full scale explanation of Vala's appearance at our apartment. That was cue for me to leave. I didn't need to hear the story again. The first five times had been enough.

Scooting away from the table just as Darcy described my puking moment in detail, I sought refuge with Jack, though only silence greeted me as I took a seat close by. Was it some kind of revenge on his part, thinking that I was somehow to blame for him landing in the Air Force? I couldn't care less if it was that. He would get over it eventually, and hopefully, talk to me again soon. Sometimes it was a good idea to just leave him to grumble about it to himself.

Even after half an hour, which I spent texting my mom on my phone, Jack still didn't seem to budge. I would have to rethink my strategy. The impressive skills of the barmaid caught my eye, and an idea sparked inside my head. "Say...," I started, directing my attention on her. "I didn't know the art gallery hired someone to manage the bar."

"I haven't been here long," she smiled timidly while mixing up a new batch of drinks. "I started here just last week."

"Well, I must compliment you. You're doing an excellent job, and as a senior employee, I will personally say that to the manager. Perhaps your job position will be a permanent one..."

"R-really, sir?" her cheeks turned a rosy color of pink. "That's an incredibly nice thing of you to do..."

After a few minutes, the barmaid - whose named turned out to be Lucy Watkinson - placed two trays in front of us, seemingly representing a way of saying "thank you", though she didn't say it outright. Looking over at Jack, disbelief was plastered all over his face. I couldn't help but chuckle at how shocked he looked.

"Enjoy it, dude," I raised an glass towards him. For once, I was the one that could a girl to do me a favor, and not Jack...though he usually freaked them out, which was how he got his will.

It proved to be somewhat of a fatal mistake to have delivered such a flattering compliment. In truth, the drink was one of the worst I had ever had, and seeing as I was a horrible cook, I knew what tasted good and what tasted extremely bad.

Though I couldn't retract the comment I had made. It would be an insult to her and to my intelligence. Instead, I kept my composure intact. Whether or not Jack would do the same would be a problem.

His facial expression said it all. He was close to spitting it all out, and most likely about to cuss at the barmaid. I had to intervene. "Jack," I hissed at him as quietly as I could manage without alerting the girl. "Don't say anything. Act normal, okay?"

"Wha?" the liquid audibly slushed around in his mouth, as he was trying to keep it from going down.

"Just...swallow and squeal later, okay? Think of it as good karma for you."

"If you say so," he mumbled around the contents in his mouth, forcing it down his throat with a sour expression. "You owe me a beer."

Just to get revenge on Darcy, I served more of these drinks to both Sam and her, though none of them commented on the taste. Darcy seemed to have a lot more self control when it came to expressing distaste in something, and Sam just carried a smile on her face.

It was about a half hour later, after many embarrassing chats and laughs that I noticed Sam no longer sat at the table. "She's upstairs," Darcy pointed a manicured nail at the staircase. It led to the top floor of the art gallery, a place I was still busy renovating.

Tiptoeing up the stairs to avoid letting anyone know of my arrival, I noticed Sam's sheer awe at the artwork displayed on the walls. I couldn't help but chuckle at her amazement.

"It's nice to see people look at art in such a manner," I commented behind her. She didn't seem to take notice of my proximity.

"It's...truly amazing," she breathed, shaking her head as she scanned the room's contents.

"It's a work in progress, to be honest. I still have some artists who are interested in exhibiting here, but so far, it's looking pretty good."

"You did all this?" a frown formed on her face as I came to stand next to her. "I thought you were an Archaeologist?"

"I am, but that doesn't mean I can't express an interest in art. My, uh...former fiancée was an expert."

She nodded slightly. "Sarah, right? She seemed to have been a good teacher... Listen, Daniel," she lowered gaze to the floor. "You know how we chatted so much when I was away? Well, I don't want to seem rude, but...it was pure friendship."

It was a low blow...especially because I was interested in getting to know her as more than friends. She was intellectual, someone that I could relate to, who was almost always the smartest in a certain room. I didn't know if I would ever have the courage to ask her out, but to have the option ripped away hurt inside.

"That's...completely fine. Was I giving you the wrong impression? Dear lord, I'm so sorry," I lied, washing away all traces of interest.

"No, of course not," she excused quickly. "It's just... I like someone. I like him a lot, but... He won't ever have the same feelings."

Instantly, I knew who she was talking about. "Jack...," I smirked.

"Yeah...and...and... Oh my word, I feel terrible," she gently prodded her head with a finger. "My head feels like exploding."

"Stress? Or perhaps that horrid drink Jack and I gave you two?" though I stood there with a raised eyebrow, I took a step closer, offering my arm as support.

"No, it's not that...can't be...so dizzy..." Her eyes slowly closed, and I could feel her entire weight being supported by me. Did she just pass out on me?

Having never been in a situation like it before, I wasn't entirely sure of what to do. That feeling quickly vanished as I started feeling just as she had.

And now, there was no one to catch me when I fell.

~*~

When I finally awoke, it was a disturbing sight for my eyes. Not only did the place reek of alcohol and dog urine, but both my sister and Sam were passed out on the floor. Jack was next to me, and at least he was conscious, but it didn't mean he was in the mood for talking.

There was only one explanation for this. The bartender had drugged us. But the question that lingered in my mind was: Why? And why were we awake while we had first drank the drug laced drinks? The answer was relatively simple. As we were both male, and our body mass was definitely bigger than that of the girls, we had recovered the quickest...or that was what I had thought. When forced to think of an excuse, my mind had usually dried up.

We weren't the only ones occupying the room. Wide awake and lying on the floor with her feet up against the wall, was another individual that seemed eerily familiar.

"No, this is not hell," she commented, her gaze glued to the ceiling. "But to be honest, it's close to it, or it's going to be."

I knew that voice all to well.

Vala.

"What are you doing here? Where the hell are we, for that matter?" I coughed.

"Exactly where I knew I would end up, and what I was trying to protect you from... You know the people I work for? Well, they came after me, and apparently remembered who you were... Now you and your friends will probably suffer the same fate as I will."

"Which is?" I questioned, afraid to receive an answer. I had a good idea what it was going to be.

"Death."

Presenting a new story...

I just finished the (short, albeit important) introduction of Chasing The Dark, and decided that I'll post the link here for curious minds...

*drum roll*

Chasing The Dark: Introduction

Yes, the new story will be posted on Wordpress, because I've been itching to try that site out...a lot more complicated that I had thought, to be honest.

Generation 4, Chapter 9: Lie to someone, and you'll eventually get burned

I had my doubts whether or not I would survive the night.

Though Vala barely had any knowledge of Bridgeport (that I knew of), she sure knew exactly which club to pick. She never mentioned a name, but the lights at the entrance told me this was a place where only the highest celebrities would get in - a requirement we definitely did not meet, in money and poise.

Yet, her smooth tongue and good looks were enough to get the bouncer to grudgingly allow us to sneak into the club. On one condition: That I change into a outfit that screamed a little more "party!" instead "overly gentleman". At least, that's as much as I could make out of Vala's rambling on about my lack of fashion sense.

Finally dressed in a way that would satisfy Vala, but also incredibly uncomfortable for me, I led the way to the bar, quickly becoming acquainted with the menu. I had a feeling that it would come in handy.

"I'd like a Simolean Sunrise, please," I requested to the bartender, who seemed to have little experience at her job. The only reason I could fathom that they would hire her, was for her looks and, like many others would refer to, "over proportional assets".

"Really, Daniel?" Vala droned next to me, raising an eyebrow as she observed the way the drink was mixed. "You could go for something a little more original, and might I add, something a LOT stronger than that."

"How do know what drink is strong or not?"

She smirked. "It's all in the name, doofus!"

A minute later, the bartender approached us with the sparkling purple drink, seemingly oblivious to our quarreling.  "Can I get anything for your girlfriend, sir?"

Both of our heads turned to each other. I felt shocked that such an assumption could be made, while Vala...well, she couldn't stop smiling. "We're...uh hum...we're not dating. She's a...a..."

"An acquaintance?" Vala interjected, winking at me.

"No, not that...," I answered, lost in thought. The perfect excuse formed itself in my mind, something that would even explain the bruises on her face without complicating me in her problems. "I'm her...psychologist. She has a lot of issues, and 'm taking her out tonight, you know, just to let her feel normal again, and to have some fun."

"Oh...right...," Vala seemed taken by surprise, but quickly expanded on the lie. "Yeah, I've had a rough relationship in the past. My boyfriend was abusive and all that...but doctor Jackson here, he's been a great help to me."

"You're preaching to the choir, sister," the bartender sighed. "I had the same experience a couple months ago. Boyfriend's in jail, luckily."

Vala put her acting skills to good use, nearly bursting into tears. "Mine got away with it... He's probably out there somewhere, beating up another girl like he did me..."

"That's enough talking about bad past experiences...," I signaled the girl to discontinue speaking to Vala. The fake act had to come to an end sometime.

"You're so good to me, Daniel," she sniffed, eyeing the worker, and spoke only when she knew that the girl was away at a safe distance. "I didn't know you could think on your feet like that," she whispered.

"Well, now you know one more thing about me. It's a lot more than I know about you. I know absolutely nothing about your real past or why you ended up being a slave to some kind of crime family," I nearly growled, signaling the bartender to bring another drink. This time, a little bit stronger than the last one.

Instead of providing me with a much needed answer, she merely rolled her eyes. "You're no fun when you're grumpy. Come on, join me on the dance floor! Or don't you know how to dance?"

My answer was a simple stare in her direction. She knew just how to irritate the crap out of me.

The dance floor was heating up because of Vala, and she had the eyes of the entire club's residents on her. At that moment, I hoped that no one would associate her acts with me. To cover up the embarrassment flaming inside of me, I ordered another drink. It slowly started to follow a consistent pattern, until the alcohol smothered all feelings of shame and contempt.

And slowly, I could feel myself losing control over who I really was.

The primal part of me that had remained buried for many years finally had the guts to surface, acting on the last words Vala had said to me. I would show her, and the entire club, just how good I could dance.

"Uh, dude, what are you doing?" the bartender kept an eye on me as I took a seat on the counter.

"Whaaat do you think?" my words were slightly slurred, and I coughed to try and clear it out. "It's time to daaaaaance."

"Ugh," she shook her head, but allowed me to clamber onto the counter. "Another one of those again. When will they learn not to come to clubs..."

It was a miracle that my feet stayed on the counter. In fact, it was a miracle that I could form coherent sentences, even while intoxicated.

But the thing it definitely had a major influence on were my emotions.

While shaking my hips the only way I knew how, I spotted Vala across the club, whispering seductively into the ear of another club attendee. Was that all she used me for? Someone to show up with at a club so she wouldn't be alone, then drop me as soon as she found someone else?

I couldn't understand why, but that small fact infuriated me.

Hopping down from the counter, I trudged all the way over the dance floor, bumping into a couple of drunk compatriots. They all seemed so...happy. The opposite of what I was experiencing.

The pianist looked like a nice person, and with a crooked smile, I approached her, only to see the face of Sam that seemed to be contorting into two. Or that could just have been the way my head was swaying. "Saaaam, isthatyou?" the words were spoken so quickly and incoherently it sounded like one. It was at that moment that a earthquake struck my mind. Everything was spinning. My eyes were of no use, and my ears were blocked, offering no way for me to receive confirmation from the girl. I could feel my legs buck under me, and my eyes slowly closing...

 ~*~

It was surely an eventful evening, that provided shocking consequences. Daniel was out for the count, who would suffer from a severe hangover when he woke up. For once, Vala looked to be quite nervous when she looked at him. Darcy, on the other hand, was enjoying every moment of it.

"I have to admit," she chuckled after poking her brother in the arm, "this is quite a funny predicament you find yourself in."

"I fail to see the humor you find in this situation...," Vala muttered, biting at her fingernails.

"Well, look at it this way... Usually, you're always the one that doesn't give a damn about other's feelings, laughing and stuff, and someone else does the worrying... Now it's reversed. I'm here, giggling my butt of. It's truly a special sight, seeing my brother passed out because he had way too much to drink at a club."

"You have an awful sense of humor," Vala rolled her eyes, moving closer to check on Daniel's breathing. "I think he's awake..."

And sure enough, he was, and ready for vengeance.

"Holy shit...," he uttered, cradling his head in his hands as he came upright. "Never again..."

"Someone seems to be in a very good mood!" Darcy winked at him, though she doubt he saw it. At that moment, he didn't care about anyone other than himself. That, and a need to yell at the person who caused it all.

"Daniel...," Vala started, casting her gaze to the ground. "I didn't think things would end up so...wrecked, to put it lightly. I'm s-"

"-your sorry?" he nearly fumed, leaning against the wall for a moment to gather support for his legs. "Vala, you made me embarrass myself in front of an entire crowd. Didn't you think there would be a really good reason why I don't go to clubs? But no, you just had to..."

"I didn't mean to, really... I just...want to move on, you know. Lead a normal life."

Daniel sighed, but did not abandon his angered demeanor. "That's great and all, honestly. You want to have a nice life. But you know what? You can have that without me. I don't want to be a part of your schemes anymore. So please, get the hell out of my house...and if you'll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom to throw up."

Quickly rushing out of the room, Vala was left close to tears, and Darcy could only stand there, looking wide-eyed. "Daniel was the only one that really wanted to help you, Vala...," Darcy said quietly. "You kinda ruined that now."

The reality of that was too much to bear, and she stormed out of the building, finally bursting into tears just outside the building, away from the public's scornful eye.

Daniel had been quick to judge Vala's actions, but if he only knew the truth behind it all, he would have turned a blind eye to the unfortunate hangover he had experienced...

While Daniel had danced his problems away on the counter tops of the bar, Vala had not been socializing with a guy. She was negotiating with a former "colleague" of sorts, Eric, who had been her partner in crime for the past year.

"Vala...you finally appeared. Come stand here, you totally need to see the crazy guy over there," he chuckled.

"Later, maybe," she had nodded," but first, there's some urgent business to be discussed."

Realizing the urgency in her voice, Eric led Vala to the men's bathroom, expecting some sort of hook up. She had instantly been repelled by that assumption.

"Eric!" she had yelled. "What the hell is wrong with you? We're nothing anymore. I told you that's in the past."

"One can hope that you lied," he had shrugged.

"No, no chance of that. I'm not returning to that life anytime soon, not even when things look grim. I'd rather live on the streets than go back to a life of crime."

"Then why contact me? What do you want this time?" he had grumbled, turning away from her with a disgruntled face.

"It's time you pay me back. I saved your hide many times, remember that."

He planted a fist against the bathroom's wall. "Vala, I hardly have any money as it is."

"Not cash, no," she shook her head firmly. "I need a favor."

"What kind?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, you're good with the technical aspects of the organization, right?" When he nodded, she continued. "There's a name on the hit list...it's pretty low down, nobody would miss it, to be honest. Do you think you could make that name disappear?"

"Sure...," he agreed slowly. "But Vala... This'll be the last thing I can ever do for you. After this expedition to Bridgeport, I'm heading overseas. What's the name of this person?"

"Daniel Jackson," she said simply.

"Huh... Never heard of him before. What's so special about him that you're the one saving his butt?"

"Let's just say I dragged him into some of my problems, and he doesn't deserve to be punished alongside me."

She was a strong individual, but seeing the way Daniel had cared for her, even after what she had done to him, made her crack, and see the error of her ways.

The question was, had she been too late to realize all of this?

~♥~

Well... To be honest, this wasn't the best post of mine. I've been in a weird mood for a while, so I think there'll be a two week's delay till the next post. In that time, I'm gonna use my rather depressed mood to write the introduction of Chasing The Dark, which will be my supernatural themed story.

Just wanted to give you a heads up, and thank you so much for reading.

Generation 4, Chapter 8: It's a sad fact that we don't own a gun

Darcy was definitely not one happy camper as she finally realized who the person was that I had been carrying in my arms. "I'll go get a gun," she simply stated, making a turn for the door.

"We don't own a gun," I frowned, motioning for her to stay.

"Well, I could go paint one," she grumbled, crossing her arms tightly around her chest, glaring down at me.

"That's...a ridiculous idea," rolling my eyes, I turned my attention back to the girl lying unconscious on Jack's bed. As he was still on duty, and Darcy not ever going to accept the invitation to take over Jack's room, Vala now had a room to herself to recuperate in. The question one, recuperate from what? The details surrounding the bruises were still dodgy. The only conclusion we could come up with was that the people she worked for decided it was time that her contract would be terminated, and with that, her life as well.

"At least you could tie her up or something," Darcy persisted with her silly ideas. "She escaped from us once, she'll do it again."

"You don't get it, do you?" I sighed, close to giving up with arguing my point. "She isn't a prisoner of ours. She came here of free will, to get help. Let's just put her past aside, alright? We don't have to go report her to the authorities."

Darcy finally fell silent, and I could see the slight signs of shock and admiration on her face. I had taught her a valuable lesson that day, a lesson that she would cherish and practice as often as she could when I wasn't around to do it.

For another half hour, I stuck around, making sure Vala wasn't going to drown in her own spittle or something horrifying like that. She was peaceful for once, an incredibly spooky sight to witness.

With a quick flick, I turned the light off, and tread quietly to the door. I couldn't help but hesitate, and look at her over my shoulder. "Good night, Vala," i murmured, smirked at my own silliness and left the room to climb into my own bed.

~*~

"Good morning...," a rather hoarse voice croaked, making it hard to identify who was speaking. Opening my eyes to slits, the answer was clear.

"Vala...," I nearly groaned. "For someone that was lying unconscious in front of my door two days ago, you're acting pretty much the same way you usually do, which is a good sign, of course."

After wiping away the sleep from her eyes, she simply pulled up her shoulders. "Hey, why waste time feeling sorry for yourself?" she chuckled slightly, but with her voice sounding hoarse, it sounded like the cough of a person on his death bed. Judging by the face on her look, Vala must have realized that she shouldn't laugh, and quickly changed the subject. "Huh... Did you have fun taking my clothes off?" she wiggled her eyebrows, pointing at the pajamas she was wearing.

"I kept my eyes closed the entire time," I smirked. In truth, it was Darcy's idea, and she had been the one to execute her plan. Had I not intervened in the dressing-up idea, Vala might have lost some of her hair. Darcy just loved to experiment on strangers.

"What a gentleman...," she turned her head slightly to cough, and sat upright on the bed, balancing her weight on her knees. "But it would have been a lot more fun had I been awake."

I couldn't help but facepalm. If someone would only listen to her attitude, and not how her voice sounded, or look at the bruises on her face, they would agree that there was absolutely nothing wrong with her. "Vala, please, not that again. Could you tell me what you need help with, other than the obvious reason? Why did you run? And why did you come to me?"

Her somewhat cheeky grin faltered, and she turned her gaze to observe a small speck on the wall. "What's for breakfast? I'm starving," she expertly avoided the question.

Relenting, I turned towards the door. She might have avoided me that one time, but there was still plenty of time to confront her about her situation. With a snap of the fingers, Vala tried to catch my attention. "Hey...," she smiled slightly. "Thanks."

"I'd say 'anytime', but...," my voice trailed off. She nodded, understanding what I meant.

Downstairs, Darcy was hard at work at making breakfast, but none of that breakfast was for me or Vala. Even after her recent revelation, Darcy wasn't into the whole idea of helping her. It was understandable, after what had happened in France.

So it was definitely understandable when she refused to cook food for us.

"Jeez, Daniel. You're old enough to cook for yourself! Whip something up, won't you?"

"Darcy...," I grumbled. "You know that when it comes to cooking and I, I-"

"-set the kitchen on fire, I know," she completed my sentence. "But is it really that hard following a recipe to the letter?" With her chuckle reverberating through the room, I was left to sweat it out by myself.

It was a terrifying experience, anxiously waiting for the clocks to count down till the time was right to take the waffles out, or checking if the temperature of the oven was at a correct setting. Cooking was afraid of me, and I was afraid of it.

Instead of taking the food all the way to her, Vala had argued that she had enough strength to make it downstairs to come and eat. It seemed she mostly needed a lot of sleep to recover.

"Is that maple syrup I smell? On waffles?" her eyes perked at the prospect.

"Sure is! But eh, I don't know if they'll taste as good as they smell..."

"I'll take my chances," she winked," coming to stand behind me. Gingerly, I handed her a plate, and pointed to the outside dining table.

"So...not feeling queasy yet? No allergic reaction? No black tongue?" I curiously asked, keeping an eye for the symptoms. It was the first time I was eating food that I had prepared myself, but also the first time that someone else was eating it. Sure, I had cooked many times before, but the food was at a point were it was burned to a crisp. No one was prepared to eat it.

She nodded with a smile, chewing thoroughly before swallowing to open her mouth to speak. "Your sister warned me you were a horrible cook. I have to disagree with her... It's pretty good. Obviously not something they'd serve in a restaurant, but totally okay for apartment food."

"Apartment food?" I raised an eyebrow. "That's a rather interesting-yet-apt description. Does this mean you'd be willing to be a test subject and taste some of my dishes?"

"Whoa! Hold your horses there, buddy! Maybe one day, if we share the same bed, I'd be willing to test that for you...," she chuckled, taking a big bite out of her waffle.

Silence was all that followed. The idea of her living with me...was terrifying. She would drive me insane the very first day. "Uh...um...," I cleared my throat, grasping at straws in my mind, desperately searching for a better conversation topic. "Y-you still haven't told me why you're in Bridgeport, or what happened to your face."

Yet again, the atmosphere between us changed. She seemed a lot more hostile, secretive as always. If only she could see that I could be trusted. "I don't want to talk about that now, Daniel," she said quietly, her eyes pinned on her fork playing around with the last bits of waffle on her plate. "Please, just drop it."

"But-"

"I said 'drop it'!" her fist slammed into the table, rattling the plates. She leaned back, inhaling deep breaths through her mouth. She pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger, while her head hung low. "I'm sorry..., she sighed," it's just...I really don't want to think about that right now. I want to go out and have some fun while I'm here."

With that statement as her exit cue, Vala pushed herself out of her chair, quickly walking inside and cornering poor Darcy, who had awful timing to find Vala in her current mood. However, instead of exploding as I expected her to, she calmly spoke to Darcy, even smiling at some point.

That only meant trouble, and lots of it.

I often wondered if I must be psychic. I had a knack for knowing when something is going to have a horrible outcome, but unfortunately, I could do nothing to prevent it.

"Come on!" Vala had ushered me outside, wearing a short dress that emphasized all the "right" parts, something that my sister had given her permission to wear. "The clubs are opening by now! We should go before they're too full."

I would have to make a mental note to severely harm Darcy sometime later, if I survived the night.

~♥~

Hey there, and thanks for reading the latest chapter!

I've finally made a decision, regarding the last post I posted about the opinions needed...I expect some mixed reactions about this. *takes a breath* Here goes nothing. Alright, so, the votes were in favor of incorporating supernaturals, but after thinking really hard, I've decided not to add them. Instead, I'm going to be doing a story on the side with supernaturals, so that if someone wants to read something like that, they have the option to. More info about this story will be given at a later date.

I would never abandon this legacy and throw my full weight behind something else, but I have wanted to do another story for a very long time, and I finally have the chance to do it. :D

So anyways, thanks again, an have a great day!

Opinions needed!

Alrighty, this is gonna be a simple question, so all you need to do is comment with a "yes" or "no", so I can get an idea of what path to follow.

So... Supernatural is going to be released tomorrow (where I am), and it made me ponder on a few things... Would you, the readers, be against or for incorporating supernatural elements into the story? (This will not be applied to the current gen >.>)

I have had a battle in the past to keep the story as realistic as possible, but now, I'm leaving it up to anyone that takes the time to read this.

Generation 4, Chapter 7: Help will come to those that are in need of it

Two years had passed since the day we departed from France, and in that time, a surprising amount of changes had occurred. Jack had begrudgingly joined Sam in the Air Force, and his entire attitude had experienced a turn around. He was still the same Jack we knew and hated, but the small changes were important. For one, he quit smoking, and apparently, he was a little bit more respectful towards Samantha. After all, she was a higher rank than he was. Jack was only at the rank of lieutenant, but he was already being recommended for a promotion.

Things between Darcy and Mitchell were...interesting, to say the least. They were definitely more than friends, but Darcy didn't care to label what their status was. Though they had both returned to Bridgeport, Mitchell had gone back a month later to continue his studies.

It could be debated whether or not my life could be considered as "cool" as theirs. I had been allowed to explore tombs with other archaeologists in Egypt, uncovering some art pieces that held much value. Returning with some of those pieces, the art gallery had suddenly taken a interest in my work, and offered me a part-time job, to upgrade the museum, that wouldn't mess with my archaeology career. I accepted the task a month later, and slowly started renovating some of the exhibits.

The reason for accepting the job was clear: I wanted to do it in the memory of Sarah and the work she had accomplished at the art gallery in Paris. However, she never told me just how hard the job was.

"Daniel, you should be celebrating with a glass of wine!" Darcy chimed in the background as I stood in front of closed boxes, all waiting to be unpacked. A task that should have been completed by other workers, who had failed to show up. 

"The new exhibits are opening tonight, and it's all thanks to your hard work. You changed this gallery, and might I add, for the better. This place...is a real dump. I mean, I can even paint better than the crap they have on these walls."

"Not now, Darcy...," I muttered, observing the mess in front of me. It would take hours to unpack and sort everything. I just didn't have the strength for it.

Hearing Darcy's hysterical giggle behind me was enough to make me want to bury my face in my hands. Somehow, she was able to laugh at my expense. She was a great sister at times, but now, she was being a pain in the ass.

"Can anybody tell me why I allowed you to occupy my apartment?" I grumbled to myself, speaking loud enough so she could hear. One thing she hated about me was that I was honest, and didn't hesitate to speak my mind. That wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"Because dad would have been furious with you, and ranted all about how you're a bad brother who doesn't want to take responsibility...," she droned on about all the things our father would accuse me of. But the thing was, he wouldn't say that. My mom and dad knew me, and they would understand if I wanted to live on my own.

"I think you have the roles reversed," I scratched my forehead, trying extremely hard not to turn around and walk out of the building.

Before I could act on my urge, Darcy tugged on my arm, prying a space open so she could wrap her arm around mine. "Tell you what," she smiled sweetly, "you're overworked and seriously stressed out. You're definitely not one for parties, so how about you skip over the opening and let the people around here handle it. It is, after all, their responsibility and not yours. All you had to do was bring some cool looking things over here. Take a break, Danny. You're going to work yourself right into your own grave if you keep going on like this."

I sighed, and relented. A small part of me agreed that she had a point. I was trying to do too much too fast, the way Sarah used to do it. I just didn't have the natural talent that Sarah had, and that realization hurt. Deeply.

"You are wise beyond your years," I muttered dryly, leading us both to the exit. The art gallery wasn't my responsibility anymore...at least, for tonight.

"I try, dear brother," Darcy admitted with a chuckle, following me without any resistance. In all likelihood, she had only urged me to leave the gallery because she was bored, but she had no idea how her own selfish ideals had impacted my mind.

The trip home was silent. Darcy had got what she wanted, and was contempt with it, was what I figured. It turned out I was right and wrong. Darcy was bored at the art gallery, not because there was nothing to do, but because her fingers ached to paint, yet she couldn't.

I found her outside on the balcony that night. It was her favorite place to be, and her favorite place to paint. Something about the Bridgeport skyline amazed her, and she drew her inspiration from it.

"I'm gonna turn in early, if you don't mind," I yawned as I walked outside, finding her busy with one of her latest works.

The way she painted seemed incredibly fluid, how her hand could make a dot suddenly, then streak all the way over the canvas. She was definitely talented, something I envied her for. It seems I was useless at everything...or not. I had an exceptional talent for feeling sorry for myself.

"Really? It's not even six o'clock yet. Daniel, are you scared someone is going to call you about the opening of the gallery tonight? Are you terrified that the feedback will be negative?" Darcy spared a second to glance over her shoulder. I nodded sheepishly. I wanted to avoid all contact with people from the gallery. They could inform me tomorrow, when I had a good night's rest behind me. "Daniel, you can't live in fear of criticism for the rest of your life. You have to face it sometime. I face it everyday, when someone sets eyes on one of my paintings. Not everyone in the world likes what I paint, but someone out there does. Focus on that one person instead of the rest, okay? Now go to bed, your sleepy eyes are starting to bug me."

On any other day I would have laughed at her, but being exhausted, I didn't, and obeyed her command, trudging back into the apartment.

But of course, there's always something that stops me when I go to bed. The previous few nights it was the TV that didn't seem to be working, and just last night, it was Darcy's snoring. Now, it was someone knocking at the door.

"Who is it?" I called, almost expecting that it was some rioter that hated what I had done with the art gallery. That idea was ridiculous in hindsight. It could have been Mitchell returning from France, or Jack, who had received a break. No one answered my question, setting my heart rate into a speedy gallop. Two parts of me were caught in a conflict. Should I play it safe, ignore it and hope they go away, or open it, and hope that it isn't some kind of serial killer or practical joke done by the neighbors.

Curiosity got the best of me, and I slowly opened the door. 

As I realized who stood in front of me, I nearly choked. "Vala," I spluttered. My captor from France, a petty thief, caught in the ropes of some organization that specializes in crime and the acquisition of rare artifacts. The question that ran through my head weren't that what could have been expected, like "How did she find me?". My reasoning was that if a criminal wanted to find you, they would go to great lengths to do just that. I was more focused on why she would come to me, after the events in Paris and Champ Les Sims.

It was only after my confusion cleared up that I saw the bruises on her face, and the ragged clothing she found herself in.

"Daniel...," her voice sounded raspy, as if she was struggling to breathe. "H-help me..."

All the energy she had left was clearly lost when she spoke, and she collapsed on the ground with an audible thump.

The shock of the sight immobilized me for a few seconds. She might have been a thief, but it would against my moral code if I were to leave her outside on the dirty carpet. She kidnapped me and stuck me in the trunk of a car, but I wasn't about to do the same to her. 

With great effort, I managed to lift Vala off of the ground, and slowly walked in the direction of the staircase, Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Darcy abandoning her paint and rushing over to the door. She was saying something, but it was lost to my ears. I could only focus on what Vala was saying.

At first, it sounded like a continuous sigh leaving her lips, but listening closely, I noticed it was something else. She kept repeating "Aiuto." The Italian word for "help".

Despite her stubborn nature, she was desperate for help now.

"Don't worry," I frowned as I observed the bruises at her eye, but kept my voice steady and soothing, "I'm going to do everything in my power to help you."

~♥~

Yeah...it seems I've lost my mojo when it comes to thinking of original titles for posts. >.> Sorry 'bout that.

Thanks for reading, and while you're at it, I need your opinion on a touchy subject...

So, after writing an English essay, and hearing all about writing and stuff from my teacher, I wanted to ask everyone that reads what they think I can improve on. I'm too afraid to ask my own teacher (she scares me with her high vocabulary), so that is why I'm asking you!

Just know that "writing too much" will not count as a valid claim. That's what writing is all about, being descriptive and whatnot. (This is for those that like more photos and less writing, but yes, I know, the amount of photos is kind of an issue...)

Anyhow, I hope you have a great day!