HEIR TO THE FLAME
CHAPTER 33: UUUUH... Plastic?
"Okay, you know what? I've had enough! I've gotten my bones snapped, I've been burned, punched, shot, sexually assaulted, stalked, and everything damn else, but this just about takes the cake!" Roy screamed, having a tantrum in the middle of the road. He knew it was very unbecoming of him, but what else could he do? He was about to be run over by an eighteen wheeler truck. He huffed and fumed as it drew ever closer and kids staying up late and garnering the streets stared in horror as the truck rolled forward, closer, closer, closer to the man lying rather haphazardly in the middle of the street.
The eighteen wheeler got closer and closer and closer and closer… And collided with his forehead; all two pounds ofplastic worth of eighteen wheeler. Roy fumed even more. Today was not a good day at all; when he got hold of Junior he didn't know what he would do to that son of his. He guessed it was his own fault anyway, but still! Who asked him to go running off into the middle of nowhere. God. He levered himself up on the splintered remains of his crutches. His chest was on fire yet again and he limped himself away across the remaining distance to Central Headquarters. He swore that if those doors weren't open he would have possibly the first hissy fit in his whole life. He shoved himself against the doors and was greeted by a very bewildered and sparkly Alex Louis Armstrong. " 'llo Major… Have you seen Junior anywhere?"
"Whaddaya mean Gramma already left? I came all the way out here for nothing! Daddy's gonna kill me! And Mommy'll shoot me and Gramma'll probably spank me or something and Daddy'll chase me around the house and try to set me on fire and Belcini and Buraha will try to eat me!" Locke raised his eyebrow. "Well… I guess our information doesn't travel nearly as fast as we thought it did. It's clearly not efficient enough…" he whipped out a notepad and started jotting something down in pencil, then flipped it closed.
"I'll check in with Major Armstrong about it. But I really think we should be going, Miss Izumi… Thank you for tolerating us as long as you have…" Izumi waved it off and cast a withering glance at her two proteges. "You're welcome, Locke. Now, you… the little kid." Roy looked up miserably from the wooden puppy she had made for him to pass the time.
"Shouldn't you be getting home?"
"Yea… I guess so…" he slipped off the couch with the toy in his hands and Locke looked down at him.
"Should we head back to Central now?"
"I'm going to die…" Roy muttered under his breath, following Locke back to the train station. "A horrible terribly painful death." "What kind of people are your parents? They can't be that bad." "Well… Daddy's a crazy pyromaniac and Mommy's gun-obsessive. And they're both insane. Very insane." Locke sweat dropped and continued down the road. "Crazy and insane, eh…? Eeesh." He flashed his pocket watch to the man at the booth and he was handed two tickets for Central. They hotfooted it to the train and managed to grapple the guardrails and swing themselves up onto it before it left them on the tracks..
Junior was prepared for a wall of bullets, a wall of fire,even a wall of frying pans, but not what he got when arrived back home.
"ROY!" His mother had swooped out of nowhere and scooped him up, proceeding to cuddle him for another hour and a half until he whined that he didn't want to be cuddled anymore. She didn't pay any attention and cuddled him for another hour before she fell asleep on the couch with Junior locked in her cuddle-embrace of doom. That was when Roy stalked in through the front door with looks that could kill. He crossedhis arms over his chest and stood in front of him, wobbling dangerously unsteadily. He got out of this posture and opted to lean on something instead. "And where were you, Son?" he asked quietly. Junior gulped and snuggled down deeper against Riza.
"I was looking for Gramma..."
"And why?" Roy asked as a growling Black Hayate and a hissing Belcini stood on either side of him.
"I wanted her to help heal you..."
"Okay, whatever, I'm going to bed," Roy said, stretching his arms above his head and yawning. "I'm burned out... I need some sleep. You go to sleep too, Junior."
"I'll sleep here... Mommy won't let me go." Riza muttered something in her sleep and cuddled Junior even more than he thought possible. He suppressed a whine and snuggled down as well as Roy limped his way up the stairs just to be shooed to bed by Ilia. "Go on, go on, off to bed with you young man."
"Mom, I'm not a baby..."
"Go, shoo!" Roy resisted the urge to retort and went to bed quietly. Junior squirmed.
It was getting awfully hard to breathe in here.