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Part Twenty

   "Of course I'm panicking! He's not fucking moving!"

   "Who isn't moving?"

   "Jamie, the kid, he's not fucking moving and I swear I didn't do anything. I swear on my life, all I did was threaten him a little and I pushed him to the ground- and I think he got up too fast because he started to run away- and he just collapsed and I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix this-"

   "Skip, c'mon, take a breath. It's okay, you're okay, just relax..."

   "How can I fucking relax right now?! Who do you think is gonna have to fix this?!"

   "You are, okay, but it'll all work out. Just breathe with me. You're fine, Jamie's gonna be fine, Sam is right here with me-"

   "Sam is there?" Skip cut him off, finally breaking eye contact with the motionless body on the floor and focusing on the phone in front of him. "Let me talk to him."

   "You think that's the best idea?"

   "No," He admitted with a deep scowl. "But I don't know what else to do."

   "Shit, Skip, fine. Here, I'm putting it on speaker..."

   "Skip?" A familiar, tiny voice spoke up, and a minuscule amount of weight lifted off his shoulders. "What happened?"

   "Sam, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to leave without telling you, I swear."

   "That's okay," Skip could've sworn he heard Sam's voice break for a split second, but decided to ignore it if he wanted to stay sane. Well, as sane as he could get for the time being. "Just walk me through what happened."

   "I just came here to scare him. I wasn't planning on hurting Jamie at all, okay? I swear I wasn't. I came in the house and I found his room and then he came in and I freaked out- like a lot- and started asking him if he remembered what happened with your pa-"

   Skip cut himself off right before he could finish the anxiety-ridden sentence, aware of what bringing up his parents might do to Sam's sympathy for the time being.

   "-my parents...keep going," Sam urged with an ounce of impatience already rising in his words.

   "He showed me a bag that he might've kept them in, because he liked to collect bugs or some shit, and nothing was there, so I got angry and pushed him down. I was gonna keep scaring him but when he got up to run, he just fell down and now he won't get back up. I don't know what to do, Sam, I didn't think it would end up like this and I'm so sorry-"

   "Hey, you don't have to apologize to me. You've done more than enough to help me out, okay? Just relax, is there a bed nearby?"

   Skip took a glance at the messy bed laying before both him and the unconscious Jamie, sitting there as if waiting to be used. "Yes, it's right in front of me."

   "Good. Go ahead and put him in the bed, make it look like he was sleeping the whole time. Be careful with him, please."

   Skip didn't even question it. He put the phone on speaker, placed it down on the Desk directly near the box of crackers, and began doing exactly as Sam asked.
   Crouching down to lift Jamie's limp arm around his shoulders, Skip pulled both the bodies up with hardly any effort, only groaning out in pain when the cast of the broken leg bumped hard against his own calve and he was forced to hop over to the bed with a limp in his step. The process itself wasn't too difficult, putting Jamie back in his bed and reorganizing his body so he was laying stomach-up, facing the ceiling with eyes closed shut. The only issue concerning the situation was how awkward it was to pull the blankets up, tucking in the kid like it was his sole duty. Thankfully, he had Sam to speak with him through the process, walking him through it as if he were there the whole time.

   "How did you know what to do?" Skip pondered out loud, taking a step back from the bed and looking down at the kid he probably forced a lifetime of trauma onto. He didn't feel too bad about it, either, considering the fact that Jamie did the same thing to Sam four years ago.

   "I heard a story once from my dad about a burglar who broke in and gave the owner of the house a concussion. My dad's brother watched the whole thing and apparently the guy felt guilty, because he took care of her for the rest of the night. Dad told me that story whenever he wanted me to go to bed, I never thought it would actually come in handy," Skip heard a little chuckle come from his phone on the other side of the room, and smiled at the thought of Sam smiling.

   "...you're not mad at me?" He had to ask.

   "No," Sam stated as firm as possible. "But that doesn't mean I like what you did."

   "Sorry," Skip repeated into the phone. "I thought I was doing good by you, but I probably just caused a lot more stress, huh?"

   Another voice joined the conversation to mutter a quick "most definitely," before Leo hushed Eli back and Sam continued on with the conversation like normal.

   "Just come back home as soon as you can so we can talk about it, okay?"

   "...okay," Skip hung his head, walking back over to the desk to make eye contact with the phone underneath him.

    As if Sam could tell, he whispered a soft "Thank you", which made its way directly into Skip's heart and bounced around nonstop.

   "How far away are you?" Leo cut through, causing a shuffling of static as he brought the phone closer to his face.

   "About thirty minutes. I'll leave now, I promise."

   "Drive safe!" Elijah managed to blurt out before the line cut off, and Skip fell into the chair attached to the wooden desk. It really was a mess, complete with stacks of homework and projects that looked about as difficult as his current year of high school math. That is to say, incredibly difficult.

   Piles of crumbs littered the desk too, causing Skip to stop for a moment as he remembered the little mouse in the box of crackers. It probably left by now, especially with all the commotion of Jamie trying to run away, leaving Skip with a pit in his stomach. He had too much empathy to deal with when it came to small animals. If the mouse was still there, it was most likely scared half to death, and Skip figured he would leave it again to go back to its home and live out its life in peace. It's what he wanted for Sam, too, but he screwed that up enough that he didn't want to go messing around with people's lives for at least a couple days.
   'Things should play out on their own,' Skip thought to himself, pushing the chair back into the desk as he made his way out of the room. 'I don't need to intervene anymore.'

   He would return to Leo's house and convene with his friends, knowing he did what he could to help Sam, despite any regrets he had about his methods. He would go back with nothing, but he would go back happy.

   That's what Skip thought.

   But that isn't what happened.

   Because the moment he reached underneath the doorframe of Jamie's bedroom, a feminine screech stopped him dead in his tracks, coming from the opposite side of the room, and sounding about as small as a voice possibly could.
   The words had Skip's blood freeze to ice, forcing him to turn his head around with wide eyes and lock onto a person, a tiny person, standing on a bookshelf and glaring at Skip.

   She spoke a few simple words that left Skip completely and utterly speechless, gaping at her like a fish out of water.

   "What have you done with my son?"
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-D