Fall of the Stars: Clint's Story

Chapter 21

"Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have - life itself." -Walter Anderson

~~~

Clint looked around as Jack led him into another room. It looked like a gymnasium...

"What are we doing?" Clint asked. "I thought-"

He was cut off by the screeching of the doors. Clint jumped and took a step back, his wing immediately spreading out, and tearing a whole through the suit. Jack looked amused.

"Nevermind that. I'll show you later. Keep walking."

Clint twitches an ear. Jack has his hand again on his shoulder, caressing it gently. Clint hisses a little, but doesn't do anything in fear that Jack would retaliate.

They stop at another golden set of doors. Jack goes to hold Clint's wrist and places it on the wall. Clint didn't object this time, he seemed to understand that there was no way out of this. In fact, it took Clint by surprise when the golden door glowed under his touch and opened.

These past few years are just getting weirder and weirder, Clint thought biting on his lower jaw. He remembered his first time using an element. The thought made him wince a little.

Now looking into the room behind the panel, Jack explained, "This is the living room. Don't mind but every once and a while, one of your uncles or aunts might come in. They will not do anything to you. They might not even notice you." He held Clint's hand a little, as the Halfblood breathed what could have been anxiety.

Jack could sense Clint's anxiety rolling off in waves, but he decided to ignore him. Maybe he was just nervous because he had never been forced upon this situation. Clint slowly forced himself to relax his breathing sensing the Zyger's dark gaze resting on him. "I'm fine," the Halfblood lied.

Jack gripped his arms and started running his hands up and down them. "Nervous, are we?"

Clint exhaled.

"There is no need to be afraid. We don't hunt creatures of our kind." Jack stopped running his hands up. "Come now..."

Clint felt really homesick. He'd been away from earth who knew how long. But now his stomach was churning at the thought of all of this. Why did I leave earth? I was better off down there... Why did NASA even try to find life outside our universe? Look what they ended up doing! They ended up dragging us into a galactic civil war!

Jack slowly brushed his hair from his face. "I wish I knew what you were thinking, Clint," he said lowly.

Clint squirmed. He felt uncomfortable when Jack touched him like that.

Finally, Jack turned back around and led him back into another room. "This," he said like no chemistry of father and son had happened between them, "is your room."

Clint looked around. The walls were black, like the blackness of space. He didn't say anything. The only thing that attracted him as of right now was the bed. His feet were sore, and the sneakers he'd been wearing for almost six months were torn in several places. This hurt. Deeply.

Jack stood in front of him now. "I will allow you to wash up. But tomorrow morning, as your human friends call it, you will be up by 6. Do you understand me?"

Clint's eyes darted to look at the clock. 8:45 pm.

"Why?" He asked, hoping not to sound like was challenging for a fight.