The Bonding Chronicles Ch. 10

Andrew grabbed her hand and pulled her down so that they were face-to-face. He rested his forehead against hers before whispering, "Thank you. Best Guardian ever."

Sara leaned in and pecked him on the lips then stood and said, "Dumbest nerd ever."

Despite her words, Andrew could sense her relief as she realized how much better he was doing. Andrew pulled out his phone and while he made a show of looking up a contact he told her, "You should get to class. With Karen having witnessed everything, I don't think you will need to be involved. I know how much you love P.E., so go have some fun at Mr. Spencer's expense."

Sara shook her head and laughed. "Let me guess, you're going to go all noble and try to keep Will out of trouble."

Andrew noticed Mrs. Murphy as the plump woman slowly drifted closer to the back room, wanting to listen in, but not wanting to be noticed.

"Nope, I think at this point Will needs to face the consequences for what he did. You saw him, I think he finally understands what he needs to do to find peace, and he knows that I have nothing to do with it." Andrew was happy that he had played a part in making Will a better person, though he was nervous that perhaps he was being naive. It would take a lot for the angry teenager to battle his demons. After a lifetime of struggle, Andrew recognized how much easier it was to just run away and hide, than it was to fight and struggle to improve.

Sara knelt down and rested her hands on his knee. "Why do you care about Will so much?"

Andrew looked down and watched as he interlocked his hands with hers. He studied how their fingers intertwined and savored how soft her skin felt as he rubbed his thumb along the edge of her hand.

"I don't care about Will. But at the same time, I don't blame him. I just wanted this to end, and I didn't want him to become some other kid's problem. My hope is that he is on a path to get out from the shadows that haunt him; to forge his own path out of his anger. But if he doesn't, then we will need to get me to a point where I can take him, because I am not going to sit by while he torments another person."

Sara leaned in and gave Andrew a tender kiss, all of her admiration for Andrew reflected in that soft contact. After a few moments Mrs. Murphy cleared her throat, causing Sara to smile as she pulled away from Andrew.

"Well, if you will excuse me I have a teacher to frustrate," Sara said with a jaunty smile, as she skipped out of the room.

"Give him hell, sweetie," Andrew called out to her as she vanished into the hallway.

Mrs. Murphy crossed the room, and prompted Andrew to stand. He pulled his shirt over his head, and was surprised by how little his sides hurt, considering his ribs had just been broken not ten minutes ago.

"Mrs. Murphy, do you mind if I make a call while you inspect the damage?"

The small round woman rolled her eyes as she applied pressure to his sides. After receiving no protest he hit the call button and put the phone to his ear. After several rings, it went to voicemail.

"Hey, Mom. Just wanted to call and let you know that you will be getting a call from the Principal. You know that problem I thought was fixed? Well it came back up and things escalated a bit. I didn't get hurt as bad as last time, but the Nurse is checking me out now, so who knows, I could be wrong. Just wanted you to know that I'm fine, and not to worry. A teacher intervened so Will is going to get in trouble this time. Give me a call tonight, and I will fill you in on all the details. Good luck with the project and give Dad my best. Love and miss you."

Andrew stopped the call and dropped the phone on the cot while he waited for Mrs. Murphy to finish her inspection. Her hands had never stopped their prodding while he left his message, and as he focused on what she was doing, he realized just how little pain he was experiencing. Something occurred to him in that moment; there was no way Mrs. Murphy wouldn't notice the changes his body had been going through.

Most of his previous bruises were gone, and what remained were subtle patches of discoloration on his abdomen. While the latest batch of purple and green were starting to show, he knew that his ribs should still hurt from last week's attack. Further, Andrew was unsure if his muscle growth would seem out of place, or if she would even notice.

Mrs. Murphy was increasing the pressure she used to inspect his body, and Andrew considered pretending to be in more pain than he was, but knew there was no point. She had already been over that area while he was distracted with his call, and now that he was aware what he should have done, it was too late. The pressure intensified his dull ache, and he pulled away from the force of her fingers, but the intensity of his discomfort was miles from where he knew she expected it to be.

"Ye' seem to have the luck of the Irish, boy." She jabbed at his side and looked for a reaction, surprised by the mild wincing that she saw in its place. She looked at him with her unspoken question written across her face.

"When I got home last Wednesday the discoloration was already fading. Are you sure my ribs were bruised?" Andrew flashed his most sincere smile, and hoped that the kind nurse would accept his leading question.

"Well ye' squirmed so much I thought for sure your ribs were bruised, lad." She leaned back and looked across his chest at the fresh bruises forming on his skin. He again pulled away from the intense pressure as she pressed against his side before she stepped away from him. "I bollocksed that call up." She shook her head as she studied his chest.

"Well, I was sure relieved when the pain started dying down so quickly. That was the first real fight I've ever been in, and that kind of pain was new to me. Maybe I overreacted."

Andrew's words rattled within Mrs. Murphy's thoughts while she considered the severity of the wounds she had seen a week ago. She began to wonder if her memory was perhaps playing tricks on her. There was no way that he could have healed bruised ribs so fast. She shook her head as she considered that the bruises she had seen forming five days ago would need at least ten days to fade away as completely as what she was looking at.

She settled on the fact that she must have overreacted or her memory was playing tricks on her. Everything she knew told her that it was impossible to heal that quickly. So, the best explanation was that she had been mistaken.

Mrs. Murphy went to her freezer and pulled out a couple of ice-packs. She placed them against Andrew's sides and used a cloth bandage to hold them in place. She clipped the bandage and said, "Ye' might as well relax, the ice will help with the pain, and keep dem bruises down."

Andrew laid back and pulled out a school book, "Might as well be productive while I wait."

***** Stand Your Ground *****

"Seriously, Mr. Williams. I'm just asking for a written statement about the attack."

The Principal's voice was loud and frustrated as she spoke across her desk. Andrew stood with his rucksack slung across his shoulder, and a warm and pleasant smile on his face.

"Yeah, because you want to get the police involved," Andrew responded very matter-of-factly.

"Andrew, I already have a statement from one of the most respected members of my faculty that attests to the fact that William not only attacked you, but did so in a most brutal way." Her gaze was pleading with Andrew to help her out.

Andrew laughed and shook his head causing her eyes to grow wide with further annoyance. She knew Andrew well enough by now to understand what was coming.

He lifted his arms and twisted his body before stating, "As you can see I am doing pretty good. It was a schoolhouse fight, and getting the police involved, with all due respect, is an exaggerated reaction." Andrew watched the Principal twist in her seat as if it was on fire. "Should Will be punished for what he did? Definitely. Should he be arrested? We are kids and we had a disagreement. Suspend him for a few days and call it good."

Andrew hiked his backpack further up his shoulder while he waited for Principal Lawson's reaction. She rested her hands on her desk and took a deep breath, her eyes focusing on some distant point that Andrew could not identify. Her gaze focused on him, and she smiled.

"Alright, Mr. Williams. If you would just sign this incident report then, you are free to return to your classes." She turned a printed piece of paper and slid it across her desk.

Andrew lifted the page and read its contents with a speed that surprised the experienced educator. She adjusted her hair, tightening her bun while she waited for Andrew to sign and leave.

"Cute, Principal Lawson. Real cute. OK, so here it says, 'Mr. Hathaway ambushed Mr. Williams ...' and then states later, '... pinning Mr. Williams to the floor, Mr. Hathaway used an excessive amount of force in beating Mr. Williams.' I'm afraid I can't sign this."

The Principal exhaled with a loud and pronounced huff. She struggled to understand why he would not want to see William punished for what he had done.

"Andrew, I have talked with numerous students and the aforementioned teacher, all of whom corroborate that story." Her tone was calm and measured while she tried to understand what his issue with the statement was.

Andrew proceeded to use a pen to adjust the wording, scratching out the original words and annotating his changes with his initials until it read, "Mr. Hathaway accosted Mr. Williams ..." and later continued with, "... pinning Mr. Williams to the floor, Mr. Hathaway struck him several times."

He signed the document, and then took his phone out and captured a picture of it. "OK, I agree with this version," Andrew said as he turned the paper and pushed it back across the large well-organized desk.

Principal Lawson read over his changes and shook her head before she said, "Mr. Williams, you can't revise history like this."

Andrew smiled at the confused woman and responded, "Ms. Lawson, I understand why you are trying to be so hard on Will. Believe me, I do. While I appreciate your efforts, that is the version I am sticking with." He tapped the corner of the page as he finished his statement.

"This is not accurate, Andrew." Her eyes had softened and Andrew got the sense that she was hoping to appeal to him on a personal level.

"How so? He did accost me, and he did hit me a few times. What seems unfair is to say that he used an excessive amount of force."

Andrew watched the Principal as she balked at his statement.

"Again, if the attack was as brutal as the version you had written, would we be standing here having this conversation? I'm telling you that what is on that sheet of paper now, is an accurate account of what happened."

Principal Lawson leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms behind her head. Andrew was a puzzle she could not quite solve. Their previous conversation had stuck with her, and visited her many times over the last few days. What troubled her most was his seeming unwillingness to see justice done. Even now, he was preventing her from making sure that Mr. Hathaway received the punishment that he deserved.

She studied the piece of paper and knew that Will was just like his father, and was destined to continue that legacy.

"Alright, Mr. Williams. You win." She took the signed document and set it aside so that she could deal with it later. Her eyes glanced up and she smiled before saying, "Unless you would like to be excused for the day, you are free to head back to class."

Andrew wasted no time, and left her office in a hurry. His spirits were raised by the confrontation he had just won, and he found himself wishing that he was as skilled at fighting as he was at debating. His smile left his face as he looked up and saw a large heavy-set man pushing Will through the office door.

"... damnit, Junior. You may not be sorry now, but you sure will be when we g..." The door closed and cut off the man's angry rant. Will reminded Andrew of a small child as he was manhandled through the doorway. Andrew hoped that Will would be able to come out of all of that on the right side of things.

An office worker passed him a tardy slip. Looking at the clock Andrew laughed and tried to hand it back. "Thank you, but class is going to be over in five minutes. Kind of unnecessary at this point, don't you think?"

The convivial man smiled and shook his head before responding, "Mr. Spencer called, he wants you to meet him in his office."

Andrew looked puzzled but thanked the office worker before rushing into the hall. Will and his father were nowhere to be seen, and Andrew was unsure if he should be grateful for that or not.

The halls were empty, but Andrew knew that soon the vast open space would be a chaotic madhouse filled with people and loud noises. He rushed through the school and cut across the empty gym just as the bell rang. Sara was one of the first people to leave the lockers, and as the young couple embraced many students passed by with happy or relieved smiles. Word had spread about what had happened, and everyone seemed pleasantly surprised to see Andrew looking so well.

Andrew pulled back and looked up into Sara's eyes. He grinned and asked, "Could you get me a couple of cheese zombies and a milk? Mr. Spencer wants a word, so I will meet you in the Cafeteria."

She kissed his cheek and whispered, "Sounds perfect." Pulling back she added, "Just can't stop killing zombies, can you? That's my nerd."

They both laughed, and as Sara joined the crowd heading towards the cafeteria, Andrew made his way to Mr. Spencer's office.

"Come in, Andrew," the deep voice of Mr. Spencer declared just after Andrew knocked.

The teacher sat behind his desk on the only chair within the claustrophobic room. For the first time, Andrew noticed that the small space felt spartan, as if no one ever used it. The clipboard held within the teacher's hand was the only loose thing in the whole space.

The large man set the clipboard on his desk and turned his attention on Andrew. "Close the door, Andrew." He waited the brief moment for Andrew to follow his command, and as the door clicked closed the large man studied Andrew closely. Andrew tried to remain still under the scrutiny of the teacher, but as the moments dragged on he began to fidget. The observant gaze of his teacher remained unflinching and seemed to drill into his soul.

"What do you want, Andrew?"

He was startled by this question. The open ended nature of it seemed clumsy at first, and then as Andrew swiveled through many different answers he realized how ingenious it was. Mr. Spencer was allowing Andrew to apply his own meaning, and expected Andrew to provide the context.

"Just tired of being bullied, sir," Andrew looked towards the floor and made a show of fidgeting with his foot as if he was shy.

"Knock it off," Mr Spencer's tone was clear, and Andrew knew that the muscular man saw through his act. The ex-military instructor leaned forward and stood to his full height while maintaining his iron gaze on the small man before him.

"Why do you want me to help you?"

Something about the way the question was asked felt like an ultimatum from his teacher. Andrew suspected that whether Mr. Spencer would continue his training or not was dependent upon this answer.

"I'm tired of feeling weak, and hate having to rely on everyone else to fight my battles. For once, I want to defend myself and not be afraid. Will is just the latest in a long line of assholes who are bent on putting me down or proving that they are better than me."

Andrew flexed and his face grew red as he remembered the many bullies who had tormented him through the years. The countless times he had sat by and contented himself to wait for the abuse to stop. "Fuck that, and fuck them. I deserve to be treated with some decency and goddamn respect, and if they won't, then I need to know that I can at least stop them from trying to take it from me."

Andrew clenched his fists and his glare narrowed as he thought about his past abuses. Mr. Spencer had seen the sudden and dramatic shift in Andrew over the last week, and recognized how much more confident he had become. Years of tearing men down and building them up had made the sergeant-turned-teacher an expert at recognizing the motivations behind a man.

That first day of school, he knew that Andrew wanted nothing more than to be respected. Andrew had fought hard through his shy anxiety to try and prove himself that day. As the week progressed, he admired the strides that Andrew had made, and was amazed by the commitment the small man had. Then came the stories about the attack by Will, and Andrew's plea for help.

Mr. Spencer had agreed to help him, moved by the honest sense of desperation he got from the wounded boy. Now, as the time was drawing near to fulfill his promise, he found himself wondering if he had made a mistake. The last thing the teacher wanted was to arm a student with the skills to become the thing he hated. He had seen numerous times how confidence can warp a man into a beast.

"What if I changed my mind?"

Andrew listened to the monotone words that echoed through the small room. After a brief moment of consideration Andrew responded, "Then I will find someone else. I respect you, sir. You remind me of my father. You are genuine, and I trust you will guide and train me fairly. But I promised myself that I would take control of my life, and it seems that is going to require me to learn to fight. Unfortunately, I attract people like Zack and Will, who for varying reasons take issue with me. I'm an easy target, and that has to change."

He took a deep breath and thought about his history. "Bullies are the one constant in my life beyond my parents. Even with Sara by my side, I need to learn to defend myself."

The teacher cracked a grin, being reminded of the crazy and aloof young woman who seemed so different from Andrew, and yet somehow so perfect for him.

"Alright, Andrew. You can go." The large man took his seat and picked up his clipboard.

"Does this mean you're still going to train me?"

The large man's bald head glistened under the intense rays of the overhead lighting as he looked up and said with an expressionless face, "Be here at nine. You're dismissed, soldier."

Andrew snapped a quick salute before leaving the room and rushing to the cafeteria.

***** Family *****

Beyond a few brief questions, Andrew was pleased that his friends had ignored the attack. If anything, they all seemed relieved at how well he was doing. Their obvious surprise turned into playful optimism as they all began teasing each other and joking about their day. Sara had purchased the few food items Andrew had wanted, and watched him enjoy his lunch with satisfaction. She had a hard time believing he had been injured earlier in the day, as she watched him sitting there as if nothing had happened.

"We need to thank a special someone for taking such good care of her mate," Sara whispered into Andrew's ear, as he took a drink from his carton of milk. The white liquid almost shot from his mouth as he gasped in surprise. His already firm dick jumped within his pants, and almost broke his mental block in an attempt to prepare for Karen. While he was still adjusting to thinking of Karen with that term, he was forced to admit that it sounded nice.

"She worked a miracle," he responded, as he nibbled her ear. A deep rumbling purr reverberated within Sara's chest. Andrew rested his hand on her thigh and finished by whispering, "Tonight, my love. Whatever you want."

As Andrew turned his attention back on the other people at the table, Sara rubbed his shoulder with the side of her forehead and seemed to take great pleasure from the contact. A smile spread across her face as she pulled back, admiring the surprised looks that watched her strange display. For a brief moment she felt a stab of self-consciousness, before she said with a broad grin, "Mine."