Delinquency

by Daemon McRae


Interlude 1-1: Consequences?

Interlude 1-1: Consequences?

It had been a week since the Fall Formal. The gym was still closed due to repairs, helped along handily by the Rainbooms and the boys themselves, when they had time. Well, most of them. Rubble Maker had only just been released from the hospital on Wednesday evening, and Friday was his first day back to class. Which meant he was much grumpier than normal.

The boys had gathered at their usual spot in their usual booth during their lunch hour, trading stories of the last week, brainstorming theories on what it all meant, and coming up with game plans that may or may not involve less explosives than the last one. Rubble had, at the very least, returned all of the unused thermite to his uncle’s construction company. Uncle Jack looked almost disappointed that they hadn’t used it, a feeling quickly subsided when he noticed the large brace on his nephew’s ankle. Even his mom had just been happy to see him home ok, even if he did have to walk with a cane now. From what the doctors told him, that wasn’t going to change any time soon. Or ever. In fact, he hadn’t even graduated to cane. He was on crutches for now.

Spooks had spent the entire last week buried up to his eyes in research, digging up old books from the city library, hitting all of his online contacts, and combing through his grandfather’s research like he was trying to cure cancer (or, you know, save the world). If not for Treble and Dusty’s insistence that he come to the hideout every day to do his research, they might not see him at all. Of course, it wasn’t difficult to make that argument, as Bones’ mother was less than pleased with the events that transpired during the dance.

Unlike Treble’s mother, who might have not even noticed something had happened if not for the majority of cuts and bruises on her son’s face, and the damage to his suit. His father, graciously, had made sure the boy was alright first, before yelling at his mother for worrying more about the suit than the boy in it. Then they started fighting again, and Treble just tuned it out. His neighbors, the Sirens, had proven a decent hideaway for when things got really loud, happy to have someone that wasn’t each other to hang out with.

Dusty had spent most of that Friday night convincing the officers that responded far too late that none of it was his fault. Even the explosions. Especially the explosions. Id didn’t stop his parole officer from stopping in on him twice as often this week.

They’d just finished the actual ‘lunch’ part of lunch when a familiar face pulled up a chair and sat in it backwards, giving them all a wry smile. “So like, how grounded are you guys?” asked Rainbow Dash.

“Um, hello to you, too?” Spooks replied with an amused grin.

“Hey Dash,” Dusty added.

“Yo. But no, seriously, how much trouble are you in?” she repeated, grinning widely. “Cause I mean, my parents almost lost their shit when I explained what happened this time,” she told them, rocking back and forth in her chair.

Treble and Dusty exchanged confused glances, while Rubble just stared quietly at his phone. Spooks spoke first. “We’re, uh… we’re not.”

Rainbow’s chair stopped. “What.”

Treble raised an eyebrow at her. “Yeah. My parents are too busy fighting to pay attention. I just shelled out some pocket money to get the suit fixed and I was fine.”

Spooks nodded. “Yeah. My mom was a bit upset, but since we technically did save the world… I mean, I think, still working on that, but nobody died. So they just gave me the usual safety spiel and sent me on my merry way.”

Rubble just tapped his ankle lightly with his crutch. Rainbow flinched. “Ok, you I get. I wouldn’t ground you either. What about you, Dusty?”

DD shrugged. “Eh, my parole officer’s not entirely pleased with me, but there’s not much she can do about it. All the thermite was accounted for, unused, and came with a permit. And the phosphorous grenades were all used up before she got there. Really the only thing she had to prove I did anything even remotely illegal was the flamethrowers, until a whole bunch of teachers who got eaten, and both Principals, read her the riot act on Tuesday when she came to arrest me. Savin’ lives does that for you. Now she just gets really huffy and follows me everywhere, so I gotta be all goody two-shoe. Until one of her other parolees fucks up again.”

Dash gave him a concerned look. “What about your parents?”

The other three boys flinched away from Dusty as far as they could without leaving the table. He simply gave Rainbow Dash a stern look and said, “They’re not in the picture.” There was a very loud, obvious period at the end of that sentence.

She leaned away and turned her attention to Rubble. “Sooo, what did the doctors say? How’s the leg?”

The other three boys leaned as far away from Rubble as they could. “STOP THAT,” Rainbow barked.

Rubble just looked up from his phone with a dead stare. “Ankle’s shot. Achilles tendon had to be removed entirely. Foot’s never gonna work again. Once I’m off crutches I’ll be using a cane and brace the rest of my life.” There was a hollowness in his voice that echoed across the table. “What are you even doing here anyway? You have class right now.”

Rainbow smirked, raising a finger. “Correction. I have gym right now. Since that’s toast, and it’s pouring rain, I have a free period. So listen, the girls wanted me to ask you all if you wanted to come to a ‘We survived the horrible monster trying to eat all our everythings’ party. It’s after school today, at like six o’clock at Sunset’s house.”

Dusty tilted his head with half a grin. “Didn’t some golems totally crash through her windows?”

Rainbow shrugged. “Yeah, but compared to all the cleanup the gym needs, replacing a few windows was easy work. Especially since we all have part-time jobs.”

Spooks nodded. “I’d almost forgotten. Hey, do you know anyone that’s hiring? Rubble needs a new job now that he can’t do construction anymore.”

RM gave his friend a rude look that lasted all of a second before he sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I mean, my mom has pretty good insurance, and I had enough in savings to cover copays and stuff, but now I’m almost flat broke and physical therapy isn’t cheap. Speaking of which, I should be available to party tonight, since my appointment’s at like, five.”

Rainbow rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “Not sure. I know my work is, but you have to be, well, on your feet all day. And it’s just seasonal stuff. I’ll ask around, though. The mall has all kinds of seasonal jobs opening up right now. How about the rest of you?”

Dusty shrugged. “Got a parole meeting at four but I should be down to clown. Spooks?”

“I’m in. Not making much progress, anyways. I could use the distraction. How about you, Treble?” Spooky asked.

DT thought for a second. “Hmmm. Is is just you Rainbooms and us?”

Dash shook her head, her colorful hair flying wildly behind her. “Nah. Pinkie also invited the Sirens, since they were kinda a big help, but only Sonata is coming. I mean, I think. Wow, I was there and I still have no idea what happened.”

The boys all nodded their agreement. “Believe me, we get it,” Treble chuckled. “Alright, it sounds good.”

“Awesome! See you guys later!”

--------------------------

“Mister Rubble Maker, please report to the Principal’s office,” came the voice over the intercom. Rubble flinched. Ten minutes. He was ten minutes away from the end of his last period. This couldn’t be good. He shuffled, grunting painfully as he shifted his legs around the side of his chair, and growled with the pain and effort as he stood up from his seat.

A girl behind him offered his bag as he stood up with a lopsided smile. “Thanks Derpy,” he said, heaving it over his shoulder. He lurched his way out of the classroom, with only half a disappointed frown from Harshwhinny. Which, to be fair, was a new record.

The trek to the office wasn’t as bad as getting around all day had bee. His last class was only a few doors dow, although he was still getting used to the limited mobility. The pain he could deal with, but he hated being so restricted. So… disabled.

He smacked the office door a few times with his crutch, until someone on the other side opened it. Vice Principal Luna stood to the side, motioning for him to come in. “Rubble. Come with me.”

He maneuvered through the cramped office with all the grace of an eagle. Piloting a submarine. Letting out a few choice swears as he caught his foot on the door frame to Celestia’s office, he ignored the pointed stare from its occupant as he slumped into a chair across the desk from the Principal. Luna walked around the room, standing beside her sister, her arms behind her back.

“Rubble Maker. How are you?” Celestia asked.

A thousand responses ran through Rubble’s mind. Most of them involved screaming, obscenities, and one that included crying that he quickly filed away under ‘garbage’. “Fine,” he grunted.

“I doubt that,” Celestia said simply, but moved on. “Now, I understand the role you and your friends played in the events of this year’s fall formal. While I can’t approve, on all kinds of legal and administrative grounds, of you stashing incendiary devices all over my campus, I am loathe to actually discipline you for saving my students. And myself. And my sister.”

“Yes,” Luna coughed. “I appreciate not getting eaten. Thank you.”

Rubble simply grunted.

“Now, your Uncle Jack and your mother, as well as a student or two, have made it apparent to me that, in losing use of your foot, you have also lost your job,” Celestia continued. Another grunt. “Unfortunately, I cannot offer you a job personally, as it is also an administrative nightmare for a teacher or other staff member to employ a student. I do, however, have someone who is looking for some… assistance. In fact, this is a job offer for you and your friends. I had considered asking one of the other… members of your group here to explain the work to them, but you seemed like you could use some good news.”

Rubble was interested, now. “Why us? I mean, we’re not exactly the shining stars of your school.”

Celestia surprised him with a laugh. “Rubble, the ‘shining stars’ of my school are either from another dimension, or flying magical girls with superpowers. As much as I appreciate them, they’re not exactly the most realistically minded students I have. There’s a lot of… optimism there that, while not unhealthy, leads me to discuss work like this with some of my more level-headed students. Not to mention the skills your particular outfit possesses are in high demand here.”

“What do you mean, ‘high demand’? What kind of job is this?” Rubble asked, slightly worried. Celestia had never asked any of them for help personally before, and had barely tolerated their antics for the majority of the year.

Luna pulled out a large manila envelope. “We have a family friend named Raven Inkwell. She, in the last couple of months, has recently acquired an old family estate a few cities away. And she has reason to believe it’s haunted.”

Rubble looked at the envelope, flipping it open to reveal a series of papers, with a photo of a rather lavish four-story estate house. He flipped through the file, reading a bit about the history of the house, the current occupant, and a few reports from local paranormal investigative teams who had, for lack of a more polite term, totally ‘pussed out.’ The more he read, the bigger he smiled. Raven seemed to be offering a decent sum to anyone who could get the creatures or ghosts or whatever in her house to, in borrowing a quote in the wanted ad included in the file, ‘Get the noisy bastards to shut up and leave me the hell alone.’

“Oh, Spooks is going to LOVE this,” he mused.

Celestia smiled. “I take it you’re interested.”

Rubble almost laughed, instead opting for the first genuine smile he’d had all week. “Oh, yes. We are all OVER this bitch.”

“RUBBLE,” Luna baked.

“Sorry!”

--------------------

“Oh my god I love this,” Spooks gushed, pouring over the folder like a map to Atlantis. “I’ve always wanted to dig into a genuine haunted house!”

He sat in the back seat of Rubble’s station wagon, as Treble drove them along. Dusty had gone off to his parole meeting, so they boys had opted to join Rubble for his PT appointment. Also, to drive him there, then to the party. “I thought you might,” Rubble said from the passenger seat. “Did you see how much she’s offering to the guy who clears it out?”

There was some shuffling of papers. “HOLY SHIT!”

Treble almost hit the sidewalk. “What, what?!”

“That is… that is a LOT for four dudes in high school!” Spooks exclaimed, his usual wispy voice reaching almost normal levels.

Rubble nodded, leaning back. “Yeah. All we gotta do is clear out some noisy-ass ghosts this weekend and the check clears on Monday. Best news I’ve had in weeks!”

Treble strained to keep his eyes on the road, dying to look at the file. “Just as long as none of the walls explode this time, right?”

“Well, yes, that would help,” Rubble mused, punching Treble in the shoulder.

“OW! Son of a bitch, Rubble!”

“Hey, it’s only my leg that’s fucked up. Arms still work fine,” RM mused.

Spooks laughed, shuffling through the paperwork. “You know you can’t punch ghosts, right?”

“Just watch me try.”

Another dry laugh. Then Spooks read a bit about the house itself. “Wow, this place is old. And kind of out of the way. What kind of family does this Inkwell have?”

Rubble shrugged. “Dunno. I mean, I assume they were either old money or something similar.”

Treble shook his head. “You guys are idiots. Don’t you know the Inkwells?”

Rubble and Spooks looked at each other. “Um, no?”

Treble sighed. “It’s like I’m the only one who does any cleaning at the hideout. Their brand name is all over the debris there. They were the company that bought out the apartment building after the fire. The ones that turned it into an office? Yeah, those guys,” he added, seeing the surprise on Rubble’s face. A quick glance in the rear-view gave him a good idea of Spook’s own level of interest. “That company’s been around for years. Started off as the first newspaper in the state, looooong time ago. Got big after that, moved on to publishing and media. They’re one of the companies behind the new locally-filmed Daring Do movie. It’s big money. Old money, too. I’d heard about one of the patriarchs from the main family kicking off not too long ago. Something about a bad heart. Living in a haunted-ass house might have had something to do with it.”

Spooks gave him a suspicious look. “Why do you know all of this?”

Treble didn’t answer right away, preoccupied with making a left turn into traffic. “Cause I wanted to make sure they guys who owned the building we’re setting up camp in didn’t come knocking to give us shit. Turns out they’d given up all rights to the place, too. Not sure who owns it now, but it’s not the city, or they’d have kicked us out a long time ago. Some construction company or something, maybe? The records got a bit fuzzy after awhile. I wouldn’t be surprised if nobody actually owned it at all, and just assumed someone else did. Not like that part of town’s buzzing with life, anyways.”

Rubble nodded. “No joke. Hey, thanks for the ride,” he added, as they parked in front of the medical center. He felt a twinge of annoyance as he noticed they were in a disabled spot, and begrudgingly pulled out a placard from his backpack.

“No problem,” Treble added. Just remember this when you’re at the cane and brace stage and I start making cripple jokes.”