Post by cybra on Mar 31, 2007 15:51:54 GMT
Slow to Forgive
By Cybra
By Cybra
Warnings: Mild language and some slash. Don’t like either? Don’t bother reading.
A/N: Are we surprised that I’m writing in an alternate universe? No. A what if centered around the idea that Chad’s betrayal was staged and he’s actually part of the older, super-secret Kids Next Door. And then Sector V was let in on it like Numbuh 5 knows about Maurice.
Disclaimer: Codename: Kids Next Door belongs to The Warburton.
“Numbuh 5 still can’t believe it!” The girl speaking grasped the bill of her cap as she shook her head.
“Well, we needed to make it look convincing,” Numbuh 362 said. “Father wouldn’t be able to pass up not just a rogue operative but one who’d also been the Supreme Leader of the Kids Next Door.”
The older blond—none other than the notorious Chad—nodded in agreement. “The only reason we had to tell you guys is because we need your help on this next mission. With you all guarding the fake Code Module, you can ensure that the Teens get it without making it look like you handed it to them. Meanwhile, I can make sure they’re right where we want them.”
“’Ow do we know yo’re still loyal anyway?!” Four demanded, jabbing a finger in the teenager’s direction. “That ’ole thing wit’ Lenny wos jus’ a trick!”
“Do you really think I’d just turn on something I spent most of my life defending at the drop of a hat?” Chad demanded.
“Cree did,” Two said softly, looking apologetically at Five out of the corner of his eye to which she waved off.
“Mah sista can be a real idiot sometimes. That was one of them.” She looked up into the older boy’s brown eyes. “And he’s tellin’ the truth.”
The tallest blond in the group blinked. ‘She knew already? How?’
“Well, Numbuh 1? What do you say?” the current Supreme Leader asked, looking at the up-until-now silent leader of Sector V.
Head down, the bald Brit walked up to the teenager…
…and—with no warning whatsoever—delivered a solid punch right in the sternum.
The hit had been so harsh and so sudden that Chad lost all of the air in his lungs and collapsed to his knees with a whuff, clutching at the now-incredibly sore spot.
“Numbuh 1!” Numbuh 3 cried, hands over her mouth as her teammates sputtered incoherently.
“Nigel Uno, that was uncalled for!” the blond girl yelled.
Chad gasped for a few seconds before looking up at the boy who had continued to stand there with his fist clenched at his side. “One, that hurt!”
“Good!” Reaching up to check his sunglasses, he turned on a heel and left without asking for permission to do so.
Numbuh 86 literally shook with rage as her skin flushed. “Tha’ boy is walkin’ on thin ice, actin’ like tha’! If I were still Head o’ Decommissionin’…!”
“It’s all right, Numbuh 86,” the teenager gasped, rubbing at the injured area. ‘Ow, that smarts.’ “He just needs a little time.”
After all, for just a split second, those sunglasses had slipped, and Chad had seen the fiercely repressed tears.
---
“Come in.” Chad looked up to see Numbuh 1 enter the private room he’d been given. He held up his hands. “You’re not gonna hit me again, are you?”
“I might” was the flat response.
“Thank you for being honest so I can be ready this time.” He rolled into a sitting position on the bed. “And you’ve got every right to be pissed off at me.”
“Thank you for admitting that,” the Brit said with syrupy sweetness. (Oh, yeah. He was in deep trouble now.) “Now I don’t have to bash your head into the wall until you understand that part of it.”
The blond sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I deserve worse than a punch in the chest. What I did made me feel like…like…” He gave an aggravated growl. “Well, there’s no other way to say it: It made me feel like an asshole. The entire time, I had you in my head repeating over and over ‘No, old friend’, trying to stop me from getting decommissioned by association because you trusted me, because we were friends. I wanted to march right into the decommissioning chamber, sit in the chair, and not go through with the plan.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw One stand in the classic “at ease” position, not one iota of emotion on his face. Well, at least the other boy wasn’t lunging for his throat.
“Then I had to pretend that I didn’t like you and treat you and the others that used to be my best pals like something less than dirt. At least if I’d pretended to go through decommissioning, I would’ve been able to pretend that I didn’t remember so it wouldn’t have been as bad. That way you guys wouldn’t have seen it as me doing it even if I still felt a bit guilty. But, no, it’d only work if I played the traitor and therefore would remember. And it just makes me feel more and more like an asshole since all I want to do is apologize and tell you guys the truth, but that’d ruin everything.”
The other boy approached him, and it was all he could do not to tense up in preparation for the anticipated strike. To his surprise, the bald Brit flopped down on the bed beside him, staring at the floor.
“I wanted to hate you so much.” Chad stared in shock though he knew he shouldn’t have been. “When I went to Ricky’s with some of the other sector leaders, I’d even imagine your forehead was the bull’s eye. Want to know what’s hilarious?” A sarcastic, lopsided smile. “I’d purposely miss every time. I couldn’t bring myself to hit the target.”
“Oh, man. One, I…”
“Let me finish,” the Brit snapped. “You were my friend despite everything. And I felt like I was sucker-punched every time you called me a ‘snot-nosed brat’. I died a little more emotionally every time we exchanged physical and verbal blows.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you!”
The cliché “more than I should” hung in the air between them, unspoken, like a vulture you didn’t want to acknowledge but knew was there anyway.
One jerkily stood as if worked by an inept puppet master. He gazed with a blank expression, eyes hidden behind dark lenses, down at the stunned teenager. “I’ll work with you again, Chad, but know I’ll be slow to forgive what you’ve done.”
He left without another word, leaving a confused teenager to sit alone.