Our Picket-Fenced Illusions

[Jacob Foley]

"I don't know. A local gang, I think."

Slowly, he climbed to his feet, declining help from Apollos. It was a miracle his clothes were unscathed, he thought, dusting himself off.

"Last I heard," he said, rubbing the back of his head, "They were led by a mutant."

He shrugged, "Guilty by association, I guess."

[Feral]

Feral nodded, but still wasn't sure. "Ok. But don't most gang members around here wear something to show that they belong to the gang? A particular color or a tattoo? You're not wearing any of that, are you?"

Still they were gone. That was more important. Still, it irked him that they would show up. "Have you been talking to anyone from this La Raza gang?"

[Jacob Foley]

"What? No!" he blurted immediately, his face scrunched with disbelief, "Why would I want to have anything to do with a gang?"

He turned away and headed for the garden with a slight limp.

[Feral]

Feral raised an eyebrow. "Well, if that's not an interesting thing to say," he muttered to himself.

He followed the younger mutant into the garden and considered him carefully. "Jake, I know about your sister's run-in with the 311's a few days ago. Now I need you to be honest. Did you go try to take some sort of revenge on that gang?"

Under normal circumstances, Feral would be offering to help slaughter the bunch of filthy normals, but that was not his place or personality here. He was far more interested in preserving the house and keeping its residents safe than aggressively destroying humans where they lived.

"It's ok if you did. I think I would have too if I knew where they were."

[Jacob Foley]

Jake froze. He kept his back to Apollos but made no move to collect the pickets, instead his fists clenched at his sides. He took a deep breath.

"Apollos," he said through gritted teeth, his voice strained, "You're talking shit. Now drop it."

[Feral]

"Not until I understand just what exactly caused those guys to come onto this property and attack you in broad daylight. I won't have them stepping into this yard as they please to hurt the people who live here."

Feral's fists were likewise clenched and his voice got low. "Jake, for the sake of the people who live here, I need you to swallow your pride and admit to me what's gotten these people thinking you're part of a mutant gang. We need to take steps to see to it that they don't view this safe house as a gang den."

[Jacob Foley]

"This has nothing to do with you, Apollos!" he spat, wheeling about to face him. He closed the gap between them rapidly.

"You don't know what you're talking about, man, no-one's in danger. No-one's going to get hurt. No-one."

They were so close he could feel the heat of the Greek's breath on his neck. His eyes bore into him.

"I look after my family."

[Feral]

"Doesn't it?" Apollos replied. "They might not be my family, but they are my friends and I care about them very very much."

Apollos straightened up a little more and squared his shoulders. "Now on that point we have more in common than anything. Two men trying to protect people they care about."

He was trying to stay nice, but Jake's exclusionary attitude was grating on Feral very quickly. "How are you taking care of your family? Are you making use of your gift to prepare ahead of time? Are you out playing vigilante and taking down hostiles where they're at? What are you doing?"

Feral folded his arms across his chest in an effort to press Jake against the house wall again. "I'm not here to judge you. You have nothing to be ashamed of in telling me what went on to make you a target of this gang. If I can, I will help you take care of this problem. But I need to know the background details first."

[Jacob Foley]

"Who do you think you're talking to?" he asked with sneering revulsion, "You're ever the fucking father figure, aren't you?"

Glancing skywards to catch his breath, he snorted, then his wild eyes regarded Apollos once more. He reached a decision and nodded.

"Okay. Okay. I went to them. La Raza. I spoke with their leader and those Three Elevens bastards saw me. It's on my head and I don't owe you a goddamn explanation."

The wall pressed against his back and he tensed, feeling trapped and unable to exorcise the inexplicable rage he felt expanding from within. He surged forward and went nose-to-nose with him.

"It. Has. Nothing. To. Do. With. You!"

[Feral]

Feral's face was tight with anger. Inside he felt proud that Jake could face him and stand for his actions. He only wished that Jake had been able to do that with his family's protection.

"I am not playing at being anyone's father. Especially not yours. But if you think I visit this house to put it back together and lecture everyone on what to do, then I won't disappoint your expectations. You want to get mad at me about holding you accountable for your actions, then you do that. But I've been where you are. I learned a long time ago to watch out for my own. And one thing I have never ever done is left my problems to people beneath myself."

Feral pressed Jake to the wall with the palm of his hand. "These La Raza guys aren't much better than the Three Elevens, only that they are mutants. What happens when La Raza comes knocking and decides to eat you and yours out of house and home because you owe them for the favor of kicking that other gang off your streets? What will you do about them then?"

It was Feral's turn to sneer. "I have always seen in you a great potential for leadership. You see the big picture. You know the needs of the people under your wing and you take steps to accomplish that. You're certainly brave. But I have never in my life seen anyone who acts as hastily as you. Did you think through that decision to go to La Raza? Did you follow it to every last conclusion?"

Feral took his hand of Jake's chest. "You're right. It has nothing to do wit me, and I won't be getting involved. But if you don't play your cards very very carefully, things will get much worse before they get better. And in the event that things unfold as I have told you, I will not say a word to you. No 'I told you so,' or judgemental chiding. I'll just clean up your mess and let you go back to whatever it is you do."

Feral saw the rage in Jake's eyes and expected the younger man to hit him at any moment. Jake did not like criticism and did not take any sort of advice well. "I'm going to let you learn on your own. My mouth is shut and I wash my hands of this gang warfare. You want to handle this on your own, so you got it."

[Jacob Foley]

Jake hesitated. Air hissed through his teeth and his shoulders rose and fell with every breath he drew. His lips clamped as though about to form a word but instead he closed his eyes, his red face contorted and his jaw clenched so tight it hurt. Then he released, a pained exclamation issued forth from his lips and he shoved his way past Apollos.

"I'm... taking a break," he said, his voice ragged, "You carry on."

He disappeared inside the house and quickly enough came the sound of the soft roll of feet ascending the staircase within. All was still.

[Feral]

Feral finished the rest of the fence in time for lunch like he planned. He installed the gate last and went to his truck. In his truck was a rented paint sprayer and several gallons of white paint. Not even he was going to paint the whole fence by hand. It wasn't the Karate Kid. He needed the job done and fast. He wanted the fence finished by the time Anna got home.

He was still angry at Jake when he pulled the sprayer from the bed of the truck. Even so, he couldn't help feeling that perhaps he had been too harsh.

It was time to eat. Feral left the machine by the place he wanted to start and went inside the house. Never one to eat Anna's food without an express invitation, he found the paper bag with the food he brought for lunch.

He had bought enough for Jake to eat as well. He wondered if Jake would still want to eat with him after what happened. He set out the food--mostly sandwich materials--and went up the stairs to where Jake's room was located in the attic.

Apollos knocked on the door. "Jake? I finished the fence. Was going to have lunch before I got to the second step. Did you want to eat? I brought some food to make sandwiches."

[Jacob Foley]

Underwater, his cries bubbled furiously past his face until he ran out of breath. The surface of the water became still and with the cold biting at his skin, Jake's anger subsided. He surfaced for air, panting at first, then he sighed and rested his forehead against the hard ceramic edge of the sink. He listened to his breathing as it steadied and mulled over what had transpired in the garden.

Rage had blinded him and he was unable to recall half the things he'd said or done. He cast his mind back in an attempt to recall what had made him so angry in the first place. His body ached from the attack but it wasn't that; he and Aidan had both come to terms with the ramifications of their decision before leaving the house for their first meeting with Pedro Calaveras. He slumped down on the toilet seat and rubbed his head with a towel. In the dark, he suddenly recalled getting right into Apollos's face.

"Jesus..." he muttered to himself, grimacing, "You wanted him to hit you."

It was true, he remembered now, if only Apollos had raised a hand to him in anger and struck him down, everything he suspected about him would've been confirmed. He had been so sure he could've provoked an act of violence out of him, and he had been wrong. Even now it pained him to accept it. There was something else, too. Everything Apollos had said, everything about the gangs and the danger the house was in and even the things he'd said about Jake and his hasty decision making, it was all true. That was it: Apollos was right and he was wrong.

"Greek son of a bitch!" he grunted, tossing the towel away.

He recalled his excuse for leaving, about needing to take a break, and silently chided himself for it. Even in his own company he flushed with hot embarassment. Finally, he'd allowed Apollos to lecture him and walked away without throwing a single punch. He was a coward. He was stupid and wrong. He stood and left the bathroom. Apollos was on the landing with an armful of food.

"Wh- what are you doing?" he asked, puzzled.

[Feral]

Apollos turned towards the bathroom door as Jake emerged. "Oh, there you are."

He gestured with the sandwich meats and the loaves of bread he bought. "I was about to make lunch. I brought some really good stuff. Some high quality meats and cheeses, fresh tomatoes, onions, lettuce, some green peppers. Lots of good stuff. You want some? I got ham, turkey, Swiss, provolone. You interested?"

He wasn't sure how angry Jacob still was, but he was starting to calm down and was ready to continue with the day. As angry and wild as Feral could be, he never really held grudges. The moment had passed, now things needed to be normal.

[Jacob Foley]

Jake watched Apollos intently while he divulged a long list of sandwich fillers, he was curious and a little apprehensive as if he expected some sort of punchline to follow, but it didn't. His thumbs hooked the belt hoops on his jeans, his back arched and he considered Apollos with a look of distant scrutiny. He couldn't hold it. He snorted with amusement and glanced down at the floor, feeling a little sheepish.

"Yeah, um, sure thing, um..." he muttered, trying to supress a grin, and nudged his bedroom door open, "Wanna chill in my room?"

[Feral]

Feral nodded and handed some of the things he had with him still. "I don't really know why I brought all this upstairs. Let me get the vegetables, a cutting board, and a knife and we can make them in your room."

It did not take him long to gather what he needed and return to Jake's room. He had never been into the younger mutant's room before out of respect for his space. It was a good feeling to be invited in.

[Jacob Foley]

The ceiling of Jake's room sloped away from the door. Twin columns of hazy light plunged inside from windows in the roof, giving the bedroom a warm albeit dusty atmosphere. The floorboards were smooth and shimmered with varnish and in the middle of the floor was a large worn rug full of faded Aztec patterns. The bed was located in the corner of the room where there ceiling was at it's highest, it was unmade and still peppered with the remnants of an alarm clock.

"Just put them over there," Jake said, motioning to a desk where he'd already set down some of the items he'd been given. He shook his head, grinning at the sight of Apollos cradling the cutting board, and returned his attention to a tank of tropical fish. He dropped flakes of food on the rippling water and watched them surface and dive in a flurry of colour.

There were posters on the two flat walls all around the bed, some of bands like The Smiths, one of Johnny Cash and Bob Marley, then there was one of Goldfrapp, a black and white Tori Amos, and a full colour Halle Berry in hotpants. Kings of Leon played softly through four speakers dotted about the room. There was no television, no computer, and very few books in sight. A black Martin D-35 acoustic guitar rested against the nightstand.

"This looks good," he said, eyeing the food, his stomach growled, "And not a moment too soon."

[Feral]

Feral nodded, drew two long blades from his fingertips and cut the onion and tomato. "Your room might smell a bit strongly of onion for a while."

He started setting up a sandwich. "Oh, in that bag should also be some mustard and mayonnaise. Get those."

Feral took a moment to look over Jake's room. The women and the musicians were no surprise to him, but the fish were totally unexpected. "Tell me about the fish in the aquarium."

[Jacob Foley]

"Hm?"

Jake gave Apollos a surprised sideways glance, he sounded like a school teacher. Dropping the puzzled look, Jake straightened himself and left Apollos to the sandwiches, returning to the tank. It stood in the darkest corner of the room, the walls slanted around it, and at four feet long it gave off plenty of its own light.

A layer of stones covered the floor of the aquarium, upon which sat larger rocks, giving the fish plenty of nooks and cavities to hide inside, bubbles trickled to the surface from the filtration outflow, long blades of hairgrass sprouted out of the stones and other emerald plants wound their way to the top of the tank. A clownfish weaved through the greenery into the open, Jake pointed at it.

"Scotty," he said, then turned to Apollos with a smile, "Not Nemo."

Drifting past the clownfish was a small flatfish, it had a dark blue body with an electric blue rim and verticle orange stripes on its side. He gently tapped the glass, catching Apollos's attention.

"She's a Coral Beauty, I call her Uhura, and you're probably beginning to see a theme emerging. There's Spock, he's a Longnose Hawkfish. Then, of course, we have Kirk..."

A striking colourful fish emerged from behind one of the large rocks, it flushed hot magenta from its head through shades of violet until it became a bold yellow hue at the tail.

"Kirk is a Royal Gramma, which seems fitting, and the other one you'll see hovering around is McCoy, he's a Doctorfish."

Jake shrugged off the geekiness of it all, grinning at Apollos, and to clarify, he added, "It was my favourite show as a kid."

[Feral]

"I see."

Apollos didn't see, but he decided to just go with it. Jake enjoyed his fish and that television show, whatever it was. He would look into what that show was later.

"You mentioned the guitar outside. How long have you been playing it?"

Apollos was musically inclined only in his voice. He had a rich baritone singing voice that was the envy of the people in the choir back in Greece. Some people suggested he take lessons, but Apollos had been too busy trying to save money to get married at the time. He wondered if marriage would ever become a priority for him again. But in the meantime it was enough to just to love Anna from afar and spend quality time with the House people.

"This is quite a room you have. Does it temperature well? Uh, that is, does it stay hot or cold along with the rest of the house, or are you more subject to the weather outside?"