It was like the sun wasn't even fucking trying. It rose over another grey, bleary day in Wertham. Not that anyone could actually see it through the clouds. More like the sky up and decided to go from charcoal grey to dusty milk and drag the rest of the world along with it. The dirty brick buildings and litter-filled courtyards didn't look very appealing in the diffused light—but then again, they didn't look appealing in direct sunlight either.

A cold breeze picked up down the street. A bright orange flyer fluttered along the gutter, its faded words advertising for some blood drive that had happened a month prior. It caught on the air like wings, drifting up and dodging a few rubbish bins and lampposts. It tumbled along a wall for a few moments before sweeping through an open window, where it promptly smacked someone in the face.

Thea spluttered awake, clawing the paper away from her face and blinking the sleep from her eyes. She glared at the flyer in her hands, and as soon as her muscles summoned the strength, ripped the orange monstrosity to shreds.

"Fucking charities," she grumbled.

Her bed rattled as she flopped back onto her mattress. She squeezed her eyes shut, tight enough that she could see white spots behind them. Then she pulled her hair over her face, pressed her head back into the pillow, held her breath with the vague idea of suffocating herself into unconsciousness. But it was too late. Already, reality was beginning to beat her over the head. She could feel the migraine growing in her temples.

With a huff, Thea blew a piece of pink and blonde hair out of her eyes to peer at her alarm. It would be going off in five fucking minutes. Of fucking course.

Knowing those few minutes wouldn't have helped but still inexplicably furious, she threw the covers off her body. She slammed the window shut and stormed out of her bedroom.

"If the landlord doesn't fix the fucking air this week, I swear to Christ I am going to rip his dick off and feed it to the ducks."

"The air?" Her flatmate did not bother looking away from the telly. "I thought last week it was the heat?"

"Last week it was the heat. It's not my fault this country's climate is going to shit."

Thea collapsed dramatically across the back of the couch, allowing her legs to slip forward and deposit her into the free seat. Marnie was still watching the news, a bowl of soggy cornflakes in her lap, but she reached over to pat Thea on the knee.

"What's got you up so early?" she asked mildly.

"HPV. Can't rest until we've found a cure."

"Sounds like hungry work. Cereal?"

Marnie passed over the box of corn flakes, allowing Thea to plunge her hand into the bag and grab a fistful. She stuffed it into her mouth without pretense.

"'Fanks," she said through the crumbs. "Wha' about you? Morning...?"

"No! Don't say it!" Marnie ripped her eyes from the television, slapping Thea's arm furiously in protest. "I haven't chunked in thirty-six hours, and I don't want to jinx it!"

"Ow! Fuck, alright! Sorry."

Thea grabbed the box of cereal and scooted to the far end of the couch. She swung her legs up in front of her, hugging her knees to her chest to fit without dislodging the bowl in Marnie's lap.

"You know, I'd kick you if you weren't pregnant," she warned. "These hormones are making you violent."

"Do you think? I don't feel violent. Mostly I just feel tired. Or cranky. Or sad. Or hungry."

"You're all over the place. Look at you. You're watching the bloody news."

"Oh, this is almost over," said Marnie dismissively. "I'm just waiting for Dinner Date. They're running a marathon today."

"I cannot believe you watch so much of that shit," Thea giggled. "You're gonna rot your kid's brain from the inside out."

"Stop it! I just think it's sweet, okay? These people, they—they're lonely and they're sad…"

"Desperate. Total weirdos."

"…but they're still so hopeful! You know, they go out and they take a chance! They go on the show to find love…"

"And get paid to look like a twat on television."

"…and some of them find it! I've seen the follow ups, alright? Sometimes people really just connect, and they—they fall in love and live ha-happily ever af…af…"

"And here we go," Thea sighed, putting aside her cereal.

The whole thing happened in fast forward. Marnie's bottom lip trembled, and a few tears escaped over her cheeks. Her face went from white to pink to red. In a matter of seconds, she was bawling so hard that the couch was shaking. And then she clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Aw fuck, I think I'm gonna be sick!"

She was off to the bathroom like a rocket, tripping over her own feet and spilling her cereal milk on the carpet.

Thea pinched the bridge of her nose. Her headache was already spreading from her temples over her scalp, and she could feel the tugging on the back of her eyeballs. And to think she'd only been awake for a few minutes. Today was going to be a nightmare.

The sound of Marnie's retching filled the flat as Thea hauled herself off the couch. The milk was her first priority. She was not in the position to replace a mouldy carpet, or deal with pests burrowing into the floor. The bittersweet news was that she was getting fairly good at cleaning out spots. Sop up the excess, splash of seltzer, stain remover, all that. She did the whole thing on autopilot. Then she finished the dishes, wiped down the counter, and tossed out the trail of biscuit and candy wrappers Marnie had left behind all morning like breadcrumbs. Satisfied that things were as clean as they could be for the moment, she followed her friend into the bathroom.

Marnie was face down in the toilet, one hand braced on either side of the seat. Thea stepped over her to get to the sink. She rooted around in the medicine cabinet, grabbing a package of cough sweets and a spare hair tie. The lozenge she popped her mouth, the tie in hand as she squatted down behind her flatmate to pull her hair back. Marnie reached back blindly to pat her leg in thanks, and promptly spewed the rest of her guts.

Thea peeked over her shoulder and wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Are you sure you just had corn flakes for breakfast?"

"Erm…yes?"

"You sure? Cause that looks like it used to be a pack of Jammie Dodgers."

"Ha, what? No, I…" Marnie broke off to hover over the toilet. After a terrifying pause, she let out a large belch and sank back to her knees. "Alright, so I might've eaten a sleeve round four this morning."

"Marnie."

"I needed them! It was a craving! That's normal, right?"

"That doesn't mean that you still eat them!"

"Oh, piss off! I'm gonna be sick either way. I'd rather keep something in my stomach to chuck up than sit here dry-heaving bile. My pregnancy, my choice."

Thea pursed her lips, but couldn't really argue with that. So she patted Marnie on the back and got to her feet.

"I've gotta shower, yeah? Do you need anything?"

"Ugh, no. I'll be fine. You just—oh, actually, could you pass me…?"

She trailed off, lifting her head to find that Thea was already passing her a damp washcloth. Marnie's face broke out into a smile, one of the pathetic ones that warned she was on the verge of tears, and Thea scoffed.

"Do not cry. You've already barfed up your biscuits. I'm not sure what you've got left."

"Shove it."

Thea smiled as Marnie snatched the cloth out of her hand. "Honestly, what are you going to do when I'm gone all day?"

"Enjoy my freedom," she replied brightly. "I can eat all the crisps and biscuits I like, and enjoy my crap telly in peace."

"Oh, is that right?"

"But I'll miss you," Marnie assured her with an innocent smile. "Now hurry up and get naked. I'm sure I've made you late already."

Thea rolled her eyes and kissed her friend on the head before turning back to the shower. She wasn't wrong about the time.

Longer later than she would have liked, Thea finished off her makeup and pulled on a worn leather jacket. She fluffed her hair and stepped back into the living room, holding her arms out for inspection.

"Well? What do you think?"

Marnie looked up from her reclaimed seat on the sofa. She gestured for Thea to twirl, and narrowed her eyes in scrutiny.

"I like it," she confirmed. "The jacket and boots say 'fuck off,' but the tights and the shorts say 'fuck me.' Like you get cat-called, but you punch the blokes who do."

"Not bad. I was going more for smashed-a-bottle-over-his-head."

"Oh. Probably should've gone with trousers instead of shorts and tights then. But you can always surprise them!"

"Fuck it," Thea groaned, grabbing her bag. "I'll have to change when I get there anyway, and I'm late as is."

"Do you know when you'll be back?" Marnie called as she headed for the door.

"No idea! But if I'm late, do not forget you've got a shift tomorrow morning!"

"What's it matter? All the Sainsbury's are getting self-checkout anyway." Thea popped her head back around the corner to glare at her until she sighed. "I know, Mum. I'm joking. Remember? We used to do that as kids?"

"Piss off, Marn. I'll see you later."

Thea's walk across the Estate was unimpressive to say the least. It was a mess of ugly concrete buildings and alleys and overpasses all covered in graffiti. Everything was the same. That is to say—grey, dirty, and uniform. Had she not lived there for several years, she might've wandered in circles for hours without realising it. When she first moved into her flat, she had. Now that she had a better idea of where she was going, it just made the walk drag on. Walk one block or ten, it all looked the same.

She lowered her music as she approached the community centre. It was the biggest building on the lakeside, and Thea had not once stepped inside it. As far as she could tell, it was only for little kids and lonely seniors anyway. It hosted workshops and charity fairs and monthly book clubs and whatever else was advertised on all the stupid flyers she'd ever found crawling along her street. Nothing she was remotely interested in knowing about.

There were already several people milling around in front of the building, most dressed in bright orange jumpsuits. Thea cursed under her breath and did her best to keep her head down. If she could just make it into the building without drawing any attention to herself…

Of course, that wouldn't be allowed to go to plan.

A wolf whistle cut through the air, making her look up instinctively. It was one of the jumpsuit boys, wild brown curls bouncing in the breeze as he eyed her with unabashed interest.

"Holy hell," he called with a thick Irish accent. "Someone please tell me she's in for public indecency."

Thea ignored him, pretending that her music was too loud to make anything out. She would've scurried right into the building had some macho, clipboard-man not stepped directly in front of her.

"You're late."

Thea just stared at him, eyebrows raised. She flinched when he reached forward to rip out one of her earbuds.

"I said, you're late," he repeated.

"Sorry," she said flatly. "I was sick."

"Really."

"Yeah. Projectile vomit, all over the walls. And then I had to clean it up before my mum got home."

"You seem fine to me."

"I got better. A God-given miracle."

A few of the jumpsuit kids snickered, and the man's face became even stonier. He bristled, hands tightening on his fragile clipboard. Thea did her best not to react. He was a big man, but he was also a probation worker. Pussy trumped muscles every time.

"Just go get changed," he ordered, nodding to the community centre. "Locker room's inside on your right. Find a locker and grab a jumpsuit."

Thea gave him a venomous smile and popped her earbud back in. Then she followed his instruction into the building.

The interior was about what she'd expected. It was absolutely deserted, just dirty floors and cinder block walls that had been covered in message boards and tacky murals. There were stacks of plastic chairs, and a bin in the corner full of miscellaneous toys and footballs. It felt a bit like a primary school that had been abandoned for a decade after some kind of mold infestation. It was unsettling.

She ducked into the locker room, a little surprised to find that she wasn't alone. A stocky blonde girl pushed past her in the doorway, and another boy was still changing into his coveralls. He seemed to be deliberating about doing up the front or just tying the sleeves around his waist.

Thea did a double take when she saw him. She knew that guy. That was Curtis Donovan. He was supposed to be some hot shot runner or something. Her father had talked her ear off about it last time there had been talk about the Olympics, and she'd seen the guy on the news a handful of times. It struck her that she'd known there'd been some sort of arrest, but she had no idea that it would land him here.

Apparently she'd been staring just a little too long, because Curtis turned around to glare at her.

"You got something to say?" he snapped.

Thea smirked, raising her hands in surrender. She already had several things she wanted to say to that, but she figured it would be in her best interest to keep them to herself.

Curtis slammed his locker shut and yanked the sleeves of his jumpsuit tight around his hips. Then he stormed out of the locker room and into the hallway.

Finally alone, Thea took her time peeking through the different lockers. Some of them were already claimed, and she perused through the items inside, imagining who they might belong to and what brought them to this fresh hell. She selected a free unit farthest from the door and hung her jacket and purse inside. After she took out her money and stuffed it in her left boot, of course. Then she stripped down to her camisole and stockings and turned to her own jumpsuit.

More fucking orange. Spectacular.

The coveralls had several wonderful qualities. The colour, for one. Then there was the worn fabric that made it abundantly clear these had been worn by perhaps hundreds of young offenders before her. There were faint stains on the legs that could have been anything from paint to blood to motor oil. And the proportions must have been made to suit some kind of alien. She was swimming in the fabric that barely fit her tits and swamped around her thighs, with sleeves hanging so far past her hands it made her look like some sort of freakish muppet. She ended up rolling them back above her elbows and cuffing the legs right above her combat boots.

A full length mirror hung on the wall to her left, and she took a moment to take one last look at herself. It was ridiculously depressing. All that time spent deliberating about first impressions gone completely to waste. She did not look intimidating in the slightest. She looked like a twelve-year-old dressed as a convict for Halloween.

Thea pursed her lips, tousling her hair and straightening the few necklaces that peeked out of the jumpsuit.

"You can always surprise them," she reminded herself.

She glared at her reflection, setting her jaw and clenching her hands into fists at her sides. She just had to buck up and get through it. Bitter and silent, no complications, clock in and clock out. It would all be over soon enough.

With a final nod, she marched out of the locker room once more.

"Thank you for deciding to join us," the clipboard-man grumbled as she exited the building.

She gave him the same hostile smile and fell into line with the rest of the jumpsuits alone the railing. She chose to keep her distance from Mr. Fame Racer, and stood on the other end of the line next to a pale boy with his collar done up too tight. He shifted away from her when she joined him. It made Thea feel a little bit better.

"Alright, listen up," the big man called. He braced his hands on his clipboard in front of him, feet spread in a classic power stance. It made the track and field shirt look a bit overkill. "My name is Tony Morecombe, and I will be your probation worker for the duration of your community service. Before we get started, I just want to go through roll…"

Someone down the line snorted the laugh that Thea was holding back.

"Oi, what is this, mate?" the boy asked, flicking the bill of his obnoxious hat. "I know we ain't in school cause I dropped that bullshit ages ago."

"Yeah, no one's surprised," shot the pretty black girl to his left.

"Settle down," Tony ordered again. He already seemed to be getting weary. "Just acknowledge when your name's called. Thea Alcott…"

Thea did not acknowledge her name being called. She waited until the probation worker cleared his throat again before flashing him her two fingers and leaning back on the railing. He gave her a warning look, but moved down the list.

"Kelly Bailey…"

The stocky blonde girl lifted an uninterested hand.

"Simon Bellamy…"

The collar-choker to Thea's right attempted to raise his hand in the same way, failed halfway there, and quickly brought his hand back to his side.

"Alisha Daniels…"

"Yeah," the pretty black girl repeated without looking up from her nails.

"Curtis Donovan…"

Curtis did not say anything, but with the several heads that turned in his direction, it was obvious that they all knew he was present.

"Gary Tullan…"

"Whatever," the hat-douche grumbled.

"And lucky number seven, Nathan Young."

"Hey," the curly-haired Irish boy cheered. "I certainly hope so, yeah?"

He turned down the line to wink at Thea, who immediately regretted trying to observe her peers at all. She'd just go back to staring vacantly in front of her. It'd be less taxing.

"So," the probation worker called loudly, attempting to hold their attention. "This is it. This is your chance to do something positive. Give something back. You can help people. You can really make a difference to people's lives. That's what community service is all about."

That poetic rallying cry didn't seem to be doing anything for any of them. So Tony changed his approach.

"There are people out there that think you're scum. You have the opportunity to show them they're wrong."

"Yeah, but what if they're right?" The Irish one—Nathan—was mouthing off again. "No offence. But I'm thinking some people are just born criminals."

Thea did not turn to watch this time, but he must have not so subtly been pointing at his neighbour, because angry-hat-boy then snarled, "Are you looking ta get stabbed?"

"You see my point there?"

A shrill ringtone cut off the altercation, which the girl Alisha answered without the slightest reservation. "Hey!"

"Doesn't matter what you've done in the past," Tony attempted to go on.

"I can't," Alisha continued. "Doing my community service."

"Hey."

"Boring as fuck."

"Excuse me," he barked. "Hello? I'm still talking here."

"What, I thought you'd finished," she snapped at him.

"You see my lips still moving? That means I'm still talking."

"Yeah, but you could have been yawning," Nathan jumped in. "Or chewing."

Things were quickly dissolving into chaos. Tony was calling for an end to the phone conversation, which Alisha was pointedly ignoring. Nathan was multitasking bothering Simon the Collar-Choker and Gary the Hat-Man at the same time. Curtis's unimpressed voice joined the fray asking to be moved to a different group. Then the stocky blonde girl finally snapped.

"Erm, wot makes ya think that yer betta than us?"

Even Thea turned to stare at her.

"What is that accent?" Nathan asked gleefully.

"Is that for real?" asked Curtis.

"Wot, you tryin' ta say somethin' now, then yeah?"

"It's—Are you—That's just a noise!" Nathan guffawed. "Are we supposed to be able to understand her?"

"Do ya understand that?" she asked, flipping him the bird.

Nathan giggled, throwing an arm around Gary. "I think she likes me."

Gary immediately leapt for Nathan's throat. Whether he was attempting to throttle him or push him over the barrier to the lake, it wasn't clear. But it did succeed in tipping them over into total pandemonium.

"Hey! Pack it in!" Tony was screaming, yanking Gary by the back of his jumpsuit. "Down! That's enough!"

He grabbed Gary round the middle, barely restraining him from leaping over his shoulder to tear Nathan limb from limb. Nathan was squaring up, punching the air with such terrible form it was a wonder he didn't give himself a black eye on accident. Gary was spewing insults and threats faster than anyone could comprehend. Granted, it was hard to hear anything over Nathan's squawking and everyone else's laughter.

Thea chewed hard on the inside of her cheek, determined not to let out a peep. Then Nathan gave an overeager right hook and tripped himself into a picnic table. She snorted in spite of herself.

Correction. The next few weeks were going to be a nightmare.

This went on for several minutes until Tony'd finally had enough. He picked Gary up off the ground, letting him kick and flail to absolutely no effect. He looked like a small toddler having a tantrum—and the hat wasn't helping much. Thea had to cover her face with her hands to contain her snickers.

"I said that's enough!" Tony bellowed. He put Gary back on the ground, and shoved him toward the building with more force than a friendly neighbourhood probation worker was probably allowed to use. "All of you get inside. Grab a paint can and a paint brush, and follow me."

Their collective groan just made him laugh harshly as he ushered them all into the building to collect their things.

Thea did her best to keep to the sides as Tony led them around the lake. Mayhem was fun to watch, sure, but she didn't need to be getting involved. The last thing she wanted was an extended sentence, tied only with having more people to talk to. It was just going to complicate everything.

"Park benches," Tony announced when they stopped, gesturing to them like some sort of pathetic game show host. "A delinquent's favourite canvas. The council wants these painted over. So start with these three, and work your way around the shore. Shouldn't take long with seven of you."

He clapped his hands and took a step back toward the community centre.

"You're not staying to supervise us?" asked the quiet kid. Rather than joy, the thought seemed to fill him with panic.

"I'll be back to check your progress," Tony assured him. "And I've got eyes everywhere. So do us a favour, and don't dick around. Hop to it."

To his credit, he did stand and watch until at least half of them had opened their paint cans. At that point, there was nothing better to do than paint the stupid benches.

Thea stared down at the paint in disgust. Dusty milk white. Exactly what this community needed. More greyscale. She might've preferred orange.

"Hey, Candy Floss!" Against her better judgement, Thea looked up to find the Irish boy leering at her again. He was draped across the middle bench like some would-be-casual model, his paintbrush between his teeth. He waggled his eyebrows, and spat it out long enough to ask, "Care to be bench buddies?"

She summoned up her best look of pity and disgust.

"Don't put that in your mouth. You've probably got herpes."

"What's it to you?" he asked. "Unless you're planning to sample the merchandise? Wait—are you sayin' I've got herpes from the brush or that I'm leaving it on there? Cause that's mean!"

Thea pulled her iPod out of her pocket and swiftly put her headphones back in.

She carried her bucket to the last bench on the curb, across from the quiet boy, Simon. He seemed least likely to initiate any kind of conversation. She was hesitant about having to put up with Gary, but as it turned out, that problem sorted itself.

They'd barely been at it ten minutes when Gary accidentally head-butted the seat of the bench. He froze, ripping the hat off his head to inspect the bill.

"Aw, man! There's paint on my cap! This is bullshit!"

Thea moved just in time to avoid a swift kick to the ribs. Gary hit her paint can instead, sending it skittering across the pavement and clunking into the already thoroughly polluted water. A trail of white paint shone ominously on the concrete. They'd surely have to clean that later as well.

The others giggled and hollered as Gary stormed off, brutalising several more inanimate objects on his way. Thea moved to claim his paint can and surreptitiously paused her music. She left her headphones in for cover, obviously. She just wanted to listen into the conversations around her.

"So, I'm guessing shoplifting?" Nathan was asking Kelly, not even pretending to be painting the bench. "No? Am I close?"

"Don' act like ya know me, cause ya don't," she huffed.

"I'm just making conversation," he said innocently. "This is a chance to network with other young offenders. We should be swappin' tips. Brainstorming. Come on. What did you do?"

There was a pause as Kelly considered him. Then she said in a rush, "This girl called me a slag so I just got into a fight."

"…Was this on the Jeremy Kyle show?"

"No, it was at Argos."

"Oh, Argos." Thea did not look up this time, but she could picture him nodding sagely. "You know what you should've done? You shoulda got one of them little pens they have and jabbed it in her eye."

It seemed Kelly wasn't impressed by this suggestion, because Nathan quickly changed targets.

"What about you, weird kid? Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but you look like a panty sniffer."

Simon froze on the other side of the bench, looking back at her with undisguised terror. Thea would've felt bad if she weren't so inclined to agree with Nathan. The kid was definitely off. He looked like someone straight off The Bill.

"I'm not a panty sniffer," he said stiffly, though he seemed so worried it was hard to believe him. "I'm not a pervert."

Thea shook her head in disbelief and turned back to the bench. Nathan was miming something in her periphery that she had no interest in witnessing. She focused intently on the misshapen penis she was painting over. The artist had pressed so hard that it was more an etching than a drawing. It would take more than a coat of paint to cover up something like…

"I tried to burn someone's house down!"

Simon's outburst made everyone freeze, and Thea actually leaned back in surprise. Nathan let out an amused wheeze and backed up to his bench. Making a split decision, Thea picked up her paint can and followed him. She'd take the mouthy one over a psycho.

"Aha, welcome to the fun bench," Nathan cheered as she dropped her paint can next to Kelly. She did her best to ignore him, but he only leaned forward to rip out one of her earbuds. "Come on, I know you can hear me."

"Touch me again, and I rip off your arm."

"Ooh, feisty," he said appreciatively. "So what're you in for, Candy Floss? Don't suppose it was a bit of public doggin'? You look like you'd be into that kinky shit."

"You're not that lucky," she snorted.

"Yeah, I figured. Probably just a light charge of indecent exposure, right? Did you bless everyone on the tube with a look at your knockers? Knickers? Knockers and knickers?"

Thea made the mistake of smirking at that, making Nathan break out into a grin.

"Ah, I'm getting warmer!"

"Really?" Kelly asked in clear horror. "Tha's disgustin'."

"So what happened? Don't spare the details."

Her first choice would've been to ignore them. But she'd put herself in this situation, and she supposed she'd have to talk her way out of it.

"I was in the park, yeah?" she started, mindlessly sweeping her brush over the bench slats. "Just coming home from work, minding my own business. And this creep starts following me down the path. Weedy little Irish guy, mouthing off about my tits and my arse or whatever."

"Well, can ya blame him?" Nathan asked charmingly.

Kelly snorted. At least one of them was smart enough to guess where the story was heading.

"Anyway, he's been following me a few minutes and I finally turned round to ask what he wanted. And yeah, I was feeling a little charitable, so I let him pull me over to a patch of trees."

"Oh, naughty," Nathan gasped, his breath catching in his throat.

Thea grinned at him, and started to lean forward over the bench.

"So we're snogging, and he gets his cock out."

"Yeah?"

"And I take it in my hand."

"Yeah?"

"And then I…" Thea twisted her paintbrush viciously, making a crunching noise in Nathan's face. "…twisted it so hard he thought it was about to pop off. Nearly did, too. He was bleeding and everything. He's the one with the ASBO for exposure though."

Nathan's face was priceless. Worth moving benches for, at the very least. It took him several seconds to move, and when he did, it was to cup his hands protectively over his junk. He looked equally horrified and aroused, which was enough to make Thea giggle. She reached into her pocket and pulled out another cough sweet, popping it into her mouth with a wink.

"No way," Kelly said resolutely. "If he were bleedin' from the cock ya would've done time."

"Oh, well spotted," Thea snorted. "Yeah, I lied."

"Now why would you lie about something like that?" demanded Nathan. "That's a sensitive subject, that is."

"Yeah. Kinda the point."

"Well then, what did you really do?"

"You first," she challenged. "What did you do?"

"Me? I was done for uh…eating some pix n' mix."

"Bollocks," shot Kelly, and Thea snorted in agreement.

Before Nathan could defend his point, a crack of thunder rolled overhead, making most of them jump.

"What is up with this weather?" he asked, looking around wildly.

Thea looked up over his shoulder. There was a heavy grey cloud forming over the lake, darker than the rest of the overcast day. It was spreading rapidly, reaching out over the banks until it threatened to eclipse the whole sky. It swirled threateningly, almost like it was full of mini tornadoes.

"How did that happen?" Tony had reappeared on the sidewalk. He was looking at the pavement rather than the sky. "I mean, you've been here five minutes. It's painting benches. How'd you screw that up? You tell me, because I've got no idea."

"Tantrum Boy," Thea offered with a shrug. "He said something about…"

CRASH!

There was an explosion. Thea screamed and stumbled back toward the lake, slamming into Nathan in her attempt to flee. More people were shouting, a car alarm was going off wildly, and one of the cars on the street had been completely caved in. They gaped at it in shock. Only then did Thea notice something else had been spattered across the pavement. It looked like ice.

"That's my car," Tony gasped in dismay, staring at the wreck.

"Classic," laughed Nathan.

Thea smacked him, only for him to grab her as another explosion went off in the water behind them. They ducked, both scrambling for the steps.

"Okay," Nathan was yelling now. "So I'm a little freaked out!"

"What is that?"

Everyone turned to Alisha, then followed her gaze back up to the sky. The cloud was larger now, nearly black on the bottom. The swirls Thea had noticed were stretching out into tendrils, twisting unnaturally toward the ground.

"That is not normal," she observed in a hollow voice.

"Ya think?" Kelly spat from behind her.

Another crash, and the dumpster at the end of the block exploded as well. Rubbish and ice spewed everywhere, and Simon was sent flying back toward the benches. The rest of them were just standing and screaming. They were all sitting ducks.

"Right, let's get everyone inside," Tony ordered, shakily getting himself under control. "Move! Move! Run!"

As if they needed another push, the fourth explosion of ice sent them careening into motion. All seven of them were up the steps, sprinting back toward the community centre with Curtis in the lead. Thea would curse him later for being an Olympic runner, but in the moment the only thought she had was to keep her legs moving and not get blown to bits.

Things were bursting all around them. The pavement cracked under their feet. Phone booths shattered, sending glass all over the path. It might have been raining, but it also might've been the hail rebounding off the trees. There was no way to be sure.

They made it up the steps to the community centre and suddenly stopped. No one was going inside.

"What the fuck's going on?" Thea demanded. "Let's go!"

"It's locked!" Curtis screamed, punching the door. "Open it! Come on, open it!"

Tony stumbled forward, fumbling with his keys as the rest of them yelled at him. Everyone was screaming. Nathan cried out as a block of ice came down and slammed into his back, and Kelly shrieked in surprise. Thea grabbed them both by the wrists, yanking them under the cover of the overhang.

"Get against the walls! Everyone back up!"

"Just open the fucking door!" Alisha screeched.

"Don't speak to me like that!" Tony hollered back.

And just before Thea was about to give him a piece of her mind, her feet left the ground.

The pain was indescribable. It was like she was being fried from the inside out, then being frozen from the outside in. She could see everything and then nothing, hear her own heartbeat and then everything in the world. It hurt.

Her back slammed into the ground and then the rest of the pain registered. It felt like she'd jumped in front of a train. After a few panicked moments, she realised that she couldn't even breathe. She coughed frantically. Then she rolled on her side and spit her cough drop out onto the pavement.

"Oh, very sexy," Nathan groaned next to her.

She would've punched him, but she didn't have the energy.

"I feel really weird," said Kelly. She was already sitting up, staring vacantly at the steps to the community centre.

"That'll be the lightning," grunted Curtis.

"We should be dead," said Simon.

Nathan snorted, but it was clearly causing him a lot of pain. "A little reassurance might be nice, you know. 'You're fine!' 'Looking good!'"

Tony did not have any words of encouragement for them, though. Instead, he sat up slowly, all of his muscles twitching independently.

"Wanker."

Everyone blinked.

"Did he just call me a wanker?" Nathan asked in disbelief. He snapped his fingers furiously. "Hey! Hello?"

Tony stared back at him. He did not apologise, but he also made no move to explain himself.

"Is everyone alright?"

"We could've died, you dick," Alisha snapped.

"Are you alright?" asked Kelly, who was still watching him twitch. "Ya acting like a freak."

Again, Thea had to agree with her. Tony looked on the verge of some kind of fit. He kept stretching his jaw like he expected it to come unhinged, and his arms and legs were wracked with spasms. She might've suggested a trip to the hospital, but as soon as the thought registered, he straightened up.

"Maybe we should call it a day," he suggested.

"Spectacular," Thea groaned, and pushed herself to her feet.

They were all a little unsteady as they filed into the locker room. For the first time that day, they were quiet as well. It was almost unsettling after a whole morning or arguing and screaming.

Thea kept her head down, waiting until the boys had gone into the hallway before taking off her coveralls. She sunk into her warm flannel and leather jacket. It felt good to be in her own clothes. After a first day like that, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to get comfortable in the orange jumpsuit.

"Wot'd ya say?"

Thea looked over at Kelly, who was now glaring at Alisha in the silent room.

"I didn't say anything," said Alisha. She slammed her locker shut with a huff.

"Wot?" Kelly demanded again, turning away from the mirror.

"What?"

"Wot?"

Thea grabbed her purse and tried to skirt around them. Everything they'd been through and they were still itching for another cat fight. God, she couldn't want to get out of this shithole.

"Oi," Kelly snarled, her head snapping around to glare at her. "Mind ya own business, bitch!"

"Whatever."

Thea put her hands up and stormed out into the hallway, Alisha right on her tail. The boys were all milling around the vending machine. None of them made any move to leave.

"We waiting for something?" asked Alisha.

"Probation worker," Curtis answered, making her snort.

"I'm not hanging around for that dickhead."

Without another thought, she headed for the doors to the facility. The rest of them exchanged looks. She had a point. And if they all left, what kind of repercussions could they really stick them with? He'd told them to call it a day, after all.

Thea popped another cough sweet in her mouth, using the length of her strides to try and stay at the front of the group. Unfortunately, she was by no means the tallest one of the bunch.

"Hey, can I have one?" asked Nathan, catching up to her side.

"No."

She put on her headphones and made an unnecessary left turn. She'd take the long way home if she had to. It had been a long day, she had nowhere to be, and she did not want any one of those shitheads to know where she lived.

A/N: Alright, so I caved and started a second story. This story will not be posted on any kind of schedule, and it will not affect the schedule of Gospel of the Chosen. I guess I feel a bit freer to share this work in progress because the show has been over for so long. But the wormhole of The Umbrella Academy led me here, and I felt compelled to share. I hope you enjoy the leap with me.

This story is rated M for all the same reasons the show was. It will have adult language, violence, drinking and substance abuse, and deal with sexual themes and content. Trigger warnings will be added for specific chapters. For visuals and additional information regarding this story and my other works, please see my Tumblr page, thetenthdoctorscompanion. Thank you, again and let me know what you think!

-Brittney