I Saw the Lights Go Out

As Your Skin Gets Thicker

Hey it is saturday so here's an early update as promised!

Dan arrived at the city at around mid-day the next day, he let out a relieved sigh as - upon crossing the city lines - he was immediately surrounded by men dressed in all black, carrying big guns. This was good, this was familiar - in a way. Almost as soon as they'd surrounded him, someone was helping him towards the wall, towards his home - old home.

People were shouting all around him, civilians leaving their homes to see what all the commotion was about , only to join the rapidly expanding group that was walking him towards his old house. Dan felt a sense of familiarity as he witnessed his circle of men keeping back excited citizens as they rejoiced at his return.

"Daniel is back!"

"Dan's back, he's back!"

"Thank God!"

Dan was all too aware that he must look a state, he was limping horribly and his whole torso was covered in blood and nasty red burns, his back probably no better. He was cradling his left arm around his midsection, and the bullet graze on his hip looked raw. His eyes drooped as he attempted to maintain a look of power, tried to hide his pain from the rest of the world, Lord knows his dad would kill him if he made himself look weak in front of the civilians.

Sweat dripped down Dan's forehead and he nearly tripped on an unseen stone underfoot, only managing to stay upright when one of his guards reached out a hand to steady him. Dan didn't thank him, just continued on, proudly raising his head, despite the pain it caused him.

They were ascending the steps to the manor/Government building when his mother came rushing out, grabbing both of Dan's shoulder's and squeezing. Hard. Dan bit back a cry of pain, biting into his lip so hard to stifle it that little droplets of blood began to form.

"Don't you ever do that to me again, Daniel!" His mother cried, tears in her eyes, but not on her cheeks. "Y'hear me, Daniel? You gave me a right scare. Now c'mon, your father's waiting."

Dan supposed that was the closest he was going to get to any sort of affection from his mother.

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Dan's father was a very tall, very thin man, with a pointy face and a pointy nose and grey hair slicked back. He always wore a crisp suit, and shiny leather shoes and he never smiled. Ever.

The only part of his father Dan was graced with, was the height. Dan had always been tall, but his father had always been taller.

"Daniel." His father said in way of greeting, nodding towards the chair in front of his polished cherry wood desk, not even bothering to stand and help his severely injured son. He was trying to test Dan, Dan could see it in his father's eyes that taking the seat offered to him would be a sign of weakness. And his father doesn't like weakness.

"Dad." Dan replied, recognizing the test in his father's actions, and choosing to stand in front of the desk instead. His father didn't smile, or make any indication that Dan had made the right choice, but Dan knew he had anyway. Call it instinct, or practice - whatever you will.

His father raised his chin slightly, and Dan knew it was time to give a report.

"The rebels somehow managed to infiltrate my rooms at base 60.04, sir. They drugged me as I was in the shower, captured me. Tortured me for information in a dilapidated house in the wastelands."

"In a dilapidated house?" His father inquired, his voice never once raising in pitch, but Dan knew it was a question anyway.

"Yes sir. They kept guards on me at all times; two outside the door, three downstairs and another two outside."