Author's Note: Not sure where this came from. Not even sure that I did a good job with it. Too angsty? Too melodramatic? Too unrealistic? Not sure on any of those fronts. But I did write it, and I wrote it so that you could read it. Review it? Maybe?

Future fic, FYI. Takes place towards the very end of this current school year, so not too drastically in the future.

And I don't own Degrassi.

Simpson gets the news right around dinnertime, just as Spike is calling Jack and Connor to wash up and come to the table. He's busy working on some paperwork in his study, so absorbed in his work that initially he doesn't hear the phone ring. Spike gets it, her pleasant greeting suddenly followed by a scared, "excuse me?"

This he registers, looking up at his wife, who is standing with the phone in her hand, her eyes wide and dumbfounded. "Yes," she says, sounding shell-shocked. "Yes, yes, of course, he's right here." She hands him the phone.

Emma, he thinks immediately. Something horrible has happened to Emma. Or Spike's mother. Or my mother. His stomach dropping like he's on a roller coaster, he takes the phone from her with trembling hands.

"Hello?"

"Archibald Simpson?"

A cool, brisk, impassive voice. Like the feeling of a hospital, personified.

"Yes, that's me. Who is this?"

"Mr. Simpson, my name is Lieutenant Cho of the 43rd Precinct. I'm calling to inform you that we have a student of yours in the intensive care unit of Mercy General right now, suspected of being the victim of a hate crime."

His head reels. This is nothing what he expected. "Wh…who?" he manages after a moment.

"Adam Torres."

Archie's mouth is dry. "I see," he says, although in reality he does not at all.

"Sir?"

A feeling creeps into his throat, like a butterfly is fluttering around in there, and for a moment, Simpson thinks he might throw up.

"Mr. Simpson?"

He swallows, clamping his mouth shut until he feels he can open his mouth without being sick. "How severe are we talking?" he asks quietly, not wanting to know the answer.

Another long pause at the other end. "I can't release that information without consent from the family," he says.

Simpson nods, and mechanically thanks the officer for the news. They hang up, and he stares at the phone for a long time after the call ends, even when the operator comes on and tells him that if he would like to make a call, he needs to please hang up and try again.

Spike touches his arm, bringing him back to reality.

He tells her. There are tears in her eyes, and her face is ashen, but she is calm as she says, "The phone tree, Archie. I'll get started on that. Connor can serve dinner tonight."

He nods. The phone tree- an emergency contact system set up in the wake of Vegas Night events, a way for parents to contact one another in the event of a school-wide emergency so that everyone can be up-to-date on what's going on at the school. Each grade has a voluntary group of parents who have a list of thirty or so names to call in such case. It hasn't been put into effect yet.

Now, he realizes grimly, he'll be able to test how effective this new system really is.

Spike is already taking up residence in his old seat, expertly dialing numbers. Her eyes are still moist, but her voice is firm and still as she begins to make the rounds. Circle the wagons, he thinks.

Connor pokes his head into the study. "Ummm, you said dinner would be ready in five minutes," he says, then blinks in surprise when he sees the looks on their faces and shrinks away. Connor has never been one to handle emotions of others well.

Simpson takes a deep breath, trying to keep himself steady, and motions for Connor to join him in the kitchen. Jack is sitting at the table, twirling his fork idly on his plate. "I'm hungry," he announces. "Where's Mommy?"

Simpson lifts his son out of his chair. "Jack, buddy," he says, trying to feign lightheartedness, "I need you go upstairs for a minute. Just a minute. I have to tell Connor something important. Okay?"

"Then can we have dinner?" Jack whines.

"Yes," Simpson says impatiently, brushing him away as Jack runs up the stairs.

Connor stares at him. "What's going on?" he asks. "It's something serious, I can tell."