The Best Laid Plans...

Posted on Mon Jan 9th, 2023 @ 6:23pm by Unawakened James Corrigan

Mission: Tales of the Unawakened
Location: Corrigan House
Timeline: Current

Having decided to do as Mom had suggested, James and Kat drove back toward their house in silence. They both knew what they had to do, and both were scared. James, however, was trying to keep himself together for his sister. She needed him, and he was not about to let her down.

James was going to do this smart, though. He parked the car a block and a half away from the house. This way, the neighbors would not see him pull up. He then turned to Kat, studying her expression. He could see the fear, yes, but he could also see determination. "Okay, we need to do this smart," he started.

She frowned. "I'm not that young, James," she grumbled. Her expression softened then, though. "But aren't Mom and Dad both at work now?"

James sighed. Maybe he'd just watched too many movies. Or maybe living with their dad's constant abuse had made him paranoid. Either way, he didn't want to take any more risks than were absolutely necessary. Which brought him up short for a second. Was this even necessary? Yes, he reasoned. The account Mom had given him the card for wasn't infinite. So anything they could take with them could only help them.

"They should be, yes," he answered. "But I'm just being over-cautious, okay?"

Kat nodded, and they got out of the car, James locking it behind them. They then took the street behind the house all the way down to their house. James hopped the fence and helped Kat over. Then they scuttled across the yard and silently climbed the trellis to James' window. Very carefully, James slid the window up as silently as he could, and they both climbed inside.

As James' feet hit the floor of his room, silently of course, he froze. Mom and Dad were supposed to be at work, but he could hear them shouting downstairs. A cold chill ran up his spine, and he turned to motion for Kat to be silent, but he didn't have to. She was standing between him and the window and looked as though she was about to bolt back out of that window. She didn't, but she was definitely frozen and silent, trembling slightly.

James put a gentle but strong hand on her shoulder, giving it a squeeze to assure her, but inside he was just as scared, likely even more so. Silently still, he moved to the door, motioning for Kat to stay where she was. He did not open the door, though, merely put his ear to it so that he could make out what was being said.

"What the hell were you thinking, Rachel?!" Jack yelled.

Rachel was not afraid of him; she never had been. And she was not backing down. "I was thinking that they'd be safer far away from you!" she yelled back, equally heated.

"Safer?!" Jack bellowed. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

Rachel's teeth were gritted. "You know exactly what it means, Jack!" she snarled. He'd pushed too far for too long, and this? This was just the breaking point. "You treat James like he's the Devil. You scare the hell out of Kat; she walks around here like a mouse, trying not to attract your attention! I'm tired of watching my children live in fear, Jack!"

James very quietly opened the door and slithered out through the crack, closing it equally quietly behind him. He then made his way toward the staircase. From the top, he could see into the living room, but their view of him would be partially blocked by the wall. To further minimize his visibility, he crouched behind the rail.

In the living room, Jack and Rachel were standing facing each other. A foot of space separated them, if that. Both looked furious. James had never seen his mother like this; it scared him a little, but not in the same way his dad was angry. He wasn't afraid of her, merely unnerved by this side of her he had never seen before.

Jack's hands balled into fists. "You're saying it's my fault?!"


Careful, Mom… James thought to himself. His father had never actually hit any of them, that he knew of, but he looked like he would now.

"Well, I'm certainly not the one bullying our son!" Rachel snarled back.And in that second, she knew she shouldn't have said that. She saw his hand come up, but she was too stunned to move. He slapped her hard enough to knock her sideways. She barely caught herself on the large entertainment center.

Something inside of her said that she should have expected it. She was the psychiatrist, after all. The signs were all there. But she'd never expected the physical violence; he'd never demonstrated a propensity for it before. And so, he had taken her off guard. But she was not going to back down. She still believed what she'd done had been the correct thing to do. His current actions only further proved the point.

James started to get up, to go downstairs. But he saw his mother right herself. Her eyes blazed. "That is the first and the last time you hit me, Jack Corrigan!" she snarled. "Yell, scream, rage all you want. But if you lay a hand on me or our children, I'll–"

"You'll what, Rachel?" Jack challenged, his own voice a dangerous growl now.

James had to admit, his mother was very brave. He would have caved; he always did.

She didn't.

"I'll have you arrested," she answered without missing a beat. "I'm finished with this conversation. When you come to your senses, you can call my mother's, because that's where I'll be." And with that, she stormed away before he could do anything else.

Unfortunately, that was unsatisfying to the rage boiling inside Jack just then. He growled dangerously and started to stalk after her. But a noise caught his attention, and he looked up.

James had gotten up and tried to go back to his room silently. The floor creaked under his foot, though, and he froze. Damn!

Jack's voice boomed through the house. "James Andrew Corrigan, get your ass down here! NOW!"

He'd been seen.

James cringed inwardly but slowly descended the stairs. He hoped Kat would do the smart thing and climb right back out his window and hide in the car, or the garage or anywhere Dad wouldn't look. He didn't say anything, though, just came down the stairs and stopped at the foot of them.

Jack moved in on him. "Spying on me, Boy?!" he accused, getting right in James' face.

James was used to the shouting, accusations, etc. But usually, they happened from across the room. Dad had never stepped right into his personal space like he was now. Mom must have really pissed him off. Or he'd just finally taken that short walk off the deep end. Either way, it was bad for him.

"No, sir," James muttered. He knew his dad wouldn't buy that, so why did he even try? The answer was simple, and it snapped into focus even before the question finished itself. Because he wanted to minimize the danger. Not that it ever worked, but he always tried.

"Really!" Jack accused. "And now lying to me too!" His hands balled into fists again. "We'll see about that!"

And in that instant, James realized his mistake. He should have never come back for their stuff. They should have just filled the tank and kept driving. But it was done now. And as he resigned himself to that knowledge, he saw his father move.

Unlike with Rachel, Jack did not un-ball his fist. James threw up his arms to protect himself, but the blow still knocked him on his ass.

Hearing the commotion, both Rachel and Kat came rushing in, Rachel from the kitchen and Kat from upstairs. Kat stopped at the foot of the staircase, frozen in a combination of disbelief and fear. Rachel had hesitated only a fraction of a moment, caught by surprise – Jack had never struck any of them before – but driven forward by her mother's instinct to protect her young. From the floor, James could only watch in horror for a few seconds.

Rachel put herself between Jack and their son, her spine rigid. Her body trembled slightly, but not with fear. She was livid! How dare he! "What the hell do you think you're doing, Jack?!" she snarled. "Don't you–"

The sentence never finished itself. This time, Jack, beyond all reason now, struck her with his fist. Rachel flew sideways, crashing into the entertainment center and sending DVDs and VHS tapes skittering across the floor like so many mice trying desperately to escape a hungry cat. She crumpled to the ground. Kat, galvanized by that, ran toward her mother, knelt beside her, and tried to wake her… unsuccessfully.

James pushed himself to his feet and looked over at them. He saw his mother crumpled before the entertainment center amid the fallen bits of entertainment and his sister trying desperately to wake their mother, tears running down her cheeks with a new fear. And as he saw this, something shifted in James. A fury like nothing he'd ever felt rose in him, fury and protectiveness. He moved in toward his father, eyes flashing.

"You son of a bitch!" he snarled, his own hands balling into fists at his sides now. "Abuse me? I can take it. But no one hurts them!" And with those words, his right fist shot out, striking his father in the jaw. Unlike when Jack had hit him, however, Jack didn't go down. His head snapped around a bit, but otherwise, he was unmoved.

James tried to press his advantage, give his father no time to react. Unfortunately, Jack was faster. He caught the next intended punch and twisted James' arm until the boy yelped with the pain. Then he threw his son to the floor once more.

From where she sat beside their mom, Kat screamed. "Dad! Please stop!"

No, Kat! James thought desperately. Don't attract his attention!

But it was too late. Jack turned toward his daughter, his face a mask of violent anger. The reasoning man who had been a lawyer for so many years was gone, replaced by some savage thing who sought only pain. "Now you're telling me what to do, girl?!" he growled, stalking toward her.

As expected, Kat cringed away, whimpering. "No, no, no…"

James dragged himself up once more, stalking toward his father. Dad had already hurt Mom, and now he was threatening Kat. This had to stop, and it was going to end today, he decided. One way or the other, this abuse ended now!

James didn't hit his father this time, though, since that had done nothing except to make Jack angrier. Instead, his intention had been to run at his father, driving the full force of his body and then run into the man and then beat him senseless.

There was only one problem. His body refused to move.

Not a muscle twitched, but something did happen. While his body didn't move, something, some force he couldn't identify, lashed out. It struck Jack full in the chest, throwing him off his feet and into the wall behind him, but it also played havoc with the rest of the room in front of James. Those scattered DVDs and VHS tapes were thrown violently across the floor, the coffee table was pushed into the couch, and the couch was shoved hard against the wall behind it. Above the couch, the window cracked loudly and solidly, the large break running from the bottom left corner to the top right.

And suddenly, he could move again. James blinked, frozen in confusion. He glanced sideways toward Mom and Kat. Mom was still unconscious, but Kat was staring at him. Her expression was somewhere between shock, confusion, and fear and there was a question in her eyes. How? How had he done that?

James looked back at his dad. Had he done that? He must have, but how? What was that?

In the next second, the question was drowned in a flood of feelings. James staggered back several steps, the sheer force of it overwhelming. There was confusion, fear, anger – no, make that rage – and shock. They were strong, pushing at him, driving through his skull like a jackhammer. He couldn't think, couldn't reason. All he could do was feel.

The fear surged forward, given strength by his own fear. What was happening to him? What had happened when he'd tried to body slam his father? Why couldn't he think?! It was too much!

"Stop! Stop it!" he screamed to — to whom or what? To the universe? To his own mind? He didn't know. All he knew was that it had to stop! He couldn't take much more!

He needed to think. He needed… he didn't know what. He kept backing away, his back coming up against the bannister.

Then the anger flared, surging forward once more. Anger… at him. He blinked and tried desperately to process this. He didn't have any time to, though, as his dad pushed himself off the ground and growled.

"I don't know what you did, boy," he snarled, "but it won't happen again!" He was now stalking toward James, very much resembling a large bear moving in on smaller prey.

Once more, Kat's voice came, closer this time. She had gotten up and rushed forward, hoping to dissuade their father from whatever new violence he intended toward James. She caught her father's left arm in a desperate plea. "Daddy! Please don't! He didn't mean–"

The sentence went unfinished as Jack threw her off of him. She landed on her butt near her mother, tears streaming down her cheeks. Jack turned back to James, prepared to put the boy down for… whatever it was the boy had done to him.

James felt his own anger rise at dad's mistreatment of Kat and mingle with the anger that was already present, pushing him to act. Everything else faded, unnoticed by him as he pushed away from the bannister and prowled forward, intent on meeting Dad halfway and letting him have it. James was not a violent young man; he never had been. He usually preferred to avoid a fight if possible. But Dad was determined… and he'd hurt mom and scared the hell out of Kat. That could not stand!

This time, James struck first. His fist connected with Jack's jaw, but that was accompanied by the power that had struck before. He didn't understand it, but right that second, he didn't care either. It was stopping Dad from hurting Mom and Kat, and that was all that mattered.

The power struck out, knocking Jack head over heels back into the wall. The window shattered, and the wall cracked. Large cracks ran from the impact point in all directions. James didn't notice. He was not going to give Dad another chance to hurt them! He stalked forward, fueling the anger inside of him with every moment of abuse that Jack had ever doled out.

Pain, physical pain, joined the other emotions, fueling the anger that was mixing with his own. James could no longer tell what was his and what was coming from… wherever it had come from before, but again neither did he care just that second. There would be time to figure it out later… he hoped.

"Kat, get Mom out of here," he instructed, surprised at how strong and intense his own voice sounded. Uncertainty tinged the emotional storm in James' head. He looked over and saw Kat giving him a look that said she didn't want to leave him here alone with Dad. "Go," he commanded again, forcing his voice to soften then, as he added in a pleading tone, "please?"

Kat nodded, and the uncertainty was gone, replaced by determination. James didn't really notice, though, as he had turned back toward Jack, who had sluggishly gotten to his feet again. Damn, but he was determined!

This time, Jack didn't bother to try the predator move; he just launched himself at his son, growling. All reason, it seemed, had fled.

James saw, out of his peripheral vision, Kat urging a very groggy and confused Mom out of the room as quickly as possible. Mom was not protesting, but that was likely because Dad had given her a concussion. Her confusion joined the storm in James' head, but it was as drowned out as everything else in the fury that boiled up from a place inside him so deep that he had not known it existed until now like lava from the center of the Earth.

Just before Jack reached him, and when he was sure Kat and Mom were away, James' mind could take no more. "Enough!" he screamed. And as he did, energy exploded from him, blasting out in all directions simultaneously. It cut through the house, cracking and crumbling the walls around them. Jack was slammed into the opposite wall again. This time, though, the wall gave way under the assault of not only his body hitting it but of the power that drove him into it. Furniture, bits of the house's structure, all scattered, and James knew in some dim part of his mind that the house was going to come down.

Distantly, he heard Kat screaming, "James! Get out, James!"

James was caught, but only for a moment. He was angry at Dad, yes, but he didn't want him dead, just out of the fight until they could get away. But he might already be dead; that last had been even more powerful than the ones before it. He might survive, though, if the last push hadn't killed him; he'd been pushed through the wall, outside the house. Either way, James couldn't stay here.. Turning, he ran toward the back doors, the way Kat had run, hearing the structure behind him cracking but desperately trying to stay erect.

Once outside, he felt Mom and Kat hug him tightly. The anger gave way to fear, confusion, and relief. He hugged them back but his mind was still trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. He spared a look over his shoulder. The house was still standing. "What about Dad…?" he asked very softly, exhaustion beginning to creep over his mind and body. "I didn't mean to…"

Rachel hugged her son tighter. "I know, son. It's okay. I'll deal with this." She pulled away and looked at both of her children. Her eyes were a bit unfocussed – likely concussion – but love shone in their depths, and it surged through James' mind. "You need to go, both of you. You won't be safe here now. Go. Please!"

"But how will you–?" James protested. He wanted to protect her, or at least to get her medical help.

"Don't you worry about it," Rachel told him. Her voice was strong. "I will do what I have to, but it will be easier if I know you two are safe. Please, James, no more arguing?"

James stared hard at her, eyes misting over. But he could see in her eyes the truth of that last statement. Giving her one more hug, he took hold of Kat and dragged her away toward where he'd parked the car. The exhaustion was creeping deeper, but he could not let it win. Not yet. Adrenaline was all he had to keep him going now, fear driving him onward toward his car.