Elementary, My Dear Watson (Ryder Blade RP v Ace Watson)

I

DAD

Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean

July 9, 2016, 03.00AM Local Time

It is another beautiful day in the Caribbean.

The sun is shining, the weather is sweet, it makes you want to move your dancing feet. Not to mention, quote Bob Marley. Which I just did. Out loud, too.

By my side, Izzy giggles. 'You're in a good mood.'

'Of course I am, hon,' I retort, looking deep into her emerald-green eyes and squeezing her hand harder in mine. 'I'm with you.'

She grins, that sweet, half-amused, half-world weary grin that made me fall in love with her all over again. I keep my gaze in hers, thinking how I could have been so lucky as to have her back by my side after all these years, when she absolutely didn't have to do it, when she had a good life with a guy who, for better or for worse, took care of her and provided for her needs. And yet here she is, holding my hand as we romp through the sand on a Caribbean island, feeling twenty years younger than we are, thirty years even, feeling exactly as young as we were when we first fell in love in 1980s New York City.

We stop for a moment, laughing, out of breath, and I pull her closer to me. I contain the irrepressible urge to kiss her just a moment longer, just enough to tell her all this, tell her how I feel, tell her how lucky I am to have her by my side. She looks into my eyes, I into hers, and I open my mouth to speak the words I have been longing to speak for the past week, the past month, the past life...

THUD THUD THUD!

Izzy's body crumples in my arms, limp, its touch cold. A wave of nausea mixed with fear rises inside me as I whirl around, trying to determine the origin of whatever just killed the only woman I have ever loved.

And that's when it happens again.

THUD THUD THUD!

I spin around, bile rising to my mouth from the nerves.

And then I see them.

Sprawled by the seaside, arms akimbo, guns being softly lapped up by the Pacific low tide.

Kyrill.

Mike.

The best damn security team I have ever had.

Helpless.

Defeated.

Dead.

The wave of revulsion grows almost as rapidly as my heartbeat, as I whirl around, looking for the final member of our party, the one who can't die, not here, not now. The one to whom I still have so much to say. The one who made my life complete again, gave it meaning. The one who is this close to making up for Christmas 2013 inside my cold, black villain's heart.

There.

Frolicking in the water, not a care in the world. Completely oblivious to the slaughter going on around him.

My cash cow.

My ward.

My son.

'RYDER!!!'

If he's heard me, he shows no signs of it. I clear my throat, push down another splurt of bile, begin to stumble across the sand towards him.

'RYDER!!!'

Why isn't he looking at me?! Doesn't he know?! And for that matter, how did he not react to the shots?! They went off right next to him! Surely he has to have heard them!

Unless...

My heart sinks in horror as I remember one of Ryder's main habits at the beach. One I constantly give him grief for, but he insists on doing time and again regardless.

'...Ryder...'

I sink to my knees, knowing it is hopeless. Knowing he won't hear me. He can't hear me.

The fucking kid has his headphones on.

I push myself up off the wet sand, knowing there is one more thing I can do, one more way I can save him, one more way I can prevent myself from being alone in the world again, for the second time.

'Ryder...!!'

I launch myself forward, my feet pushing off the sand. Time stands still as I fly across the few feet of seashore separating me from the last surviving person I care for.

And that's when I hear the sound again.

Amplified by the slow motion, booming like tropical thunder.

THUD THUD THUD!

I urge myself to fly faster, tell myself if I don't, I won't be able to save the boy.

And then, just then, Ryder finally looks at me.

And then behind him.

But it is too late.

THUD 

THUD 

THUD THUD THUD!

'....NO!!!!!'

I start to a seated position, my breath ragged, my brow, nightshirt and sheets damp with sweat. It takes me a few moments to realize where I am, moments I spend fighting down the urge to vomit. Eventually, however, it overpowers me, and I am just quick enough to get to the ensuite bathroom before it all comes spurting forward out of my mouth and into the bowl.

I am still dry heaving when I hear it again.

The sound.

From my dream. 

THUD THUD THUD!

It can't be.

It can't be!

I'm hearing things. I'm sure of it. There's no way the blasts in my dream were real. They couldn't be. They couldn't...

THUD THUD THUD!

They were!

A fresh spurt of vomit comes rushing up my throat as the sound echoes through my room again. I hit the floor and crouch in the tiny area behind the toilet bowl, protecting myself from any stray bullets which might pierce the steel-reinforced door. I shudder in abject terror as I hear the blasts echo through the room again.

THUD THUD THUD!

'Hey yo, Dad! Open up!'

What the...?!

'Ryder?!'

'Nah, it's Tom freakin' Brady. Open up already!'

It is only then that it hits me.

The thuds.

They are not from bullets.

A slightly manic giggle escapes my lips as I get up off my protective coccoon and make my way across the room to the door. Even though it is a distance of no more than a few feet, my legs almost give in twice, and my heartrate is only just slowing down when I swing the door open and come face to face with my tired yet grinning adoptive son.

'You scared the shit out of me, you cocksucker,' I growl, right before I pull him into a big hug. Ryder is slightly puzzled, but hugs back, quipping:

'Language, Dadhead!'

'I'll use all the goddamn language I goddamn well please,' I grunt playfully, as my heartbeat does a tlittle tap dance for joy. Then, my tone becomes more serious as I ask:

'What are you doing up, anyway? What fucking time is it?'

I retrace my steps, groping around for my phone before squinting at it bleary-eyed.

'A quarter past three?! Ryder, what the hell are you doing waking up half this goddamn ship at a quarter past fucking three in the morning?!'

Ryder shrugs. 'Just going 'round catching Pokemon..'

'At three in the morning?!'

Ryder shrugs again. 'Couldn't sleep. Plus the Wi-Fi here sucks monkey-butt. And there's no one on Xbox Live at night except a bunch'a noobs speaking weird-ass languages!'

Ryder sets off on a rather insensitive impersonation of the average late-night video-gamer, but it is too much for my weary head to take, especially after the night I've had. I stop him short, with a hand on his shoulder.

'All right, I get it.'

Then, my feelings still on edge from the unsettling dream, I cannot stop myself from adding:

'Ryder, this can't go on like this. This month was supposed to be your vacation. To decompress after Fate of the Gods. But it's not much of a holiday if you don't get a full night's sleep for the duration, is it?! I mean, it's bad enough that you wanted to fly out to fucking Minnesotta just so you could be on Breakthrough...but you come back and you're even worse! This has got to stop!'

I expect him to start yelling, accusing me of being harsh despite the fact that he woke me up in the middle of the goddamn night, after a terrifying nightmare, and therefore deserves my bile. Surprisingly, however, he does no such thing; he does not so much as try to interrupt me. Instead, he lets me get all the way through my rant before shrugging again:

'Well...see, the thing is...I've been trying to sleep...but most times I just kind'a end up staying up thinking...'

Oh boy. Ryder thinking. This can't be good.

'Uh-huh...and..?'

'...and there's something I want to ask you.'

What did I just fucking say?! It's like I'm goddamn psychic. 

'Ryder, does it have to be now?! I'm sort of having a rough night...'

'Yeah, Dad,' he urges. 'It's gotta be now, before I forget. Please...?'

Ryder is not Freddie; he is not Izzy's son. Yet if I didn't know better, I would have said he had inherited that wounded puppy-dog look directly from her. And, as with Izzy's own, it is a look I am powerless to resist.

'Fine.' I sigh, defeated. 'Just let me slip something on.'

II

DAD

Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean

July 9, 2016, 03.45AM Local Time

'WHOA!'

If Ryder had a drink at hand, he would no doubt have spilled it right then; as it is, he simply stares at me, wide-eyed.

'You dreamed that?!'

I nod. 'And when you started banging on the door, I got so scared I went to the toilet to throw up.'

'No way!' In his most Ryder-esque moment of the night so far, Ryder snorts with laughter. 'I scared you?! For real?!'

'Be funny, limpdick,' I grumble. 'I'm going to go over to your room tonight and start banging on your door while you're sleeping. See what you do.' I can tell my threat is not as effective as I expected, so I quickly move the conversation along. 'What did you want to ask me, anyway?!'

This actually causes Ryder to go solemn for a long moment. The soft night breeze ruffles his hair as he gazes over the lower-deck railing of the yacht and across the pitch-black Pacific Ocean, seemingly looking for the right words. I pull my housecoat tighter around me, shivering slightly, but say nothing, understanding the boy needs his space to put his ideas in order. Even still, it takes a long moment for Ryder to finally speak up:

'Dad...I've been thinking...when we get back home...there's something I wanna do.'

That sinking feeling I get in my stomach in moments like this suddenly makes itself felt. I try to mask it by quipping:

'All right, Ryder. What is it? You want me to get you a girl or something?! I told you we should have brought some with---'

This time, he does interrupt.

'That's not it, Dad. It's something else. Something serious.'

I welcome the opportunity to put away the false mirth and give in to the feeling at the pit of my stomach. Something serious, coming from Ryder, cannot be good. 

Still, I think, maybe it's nothing to be concerned over. Maybe it's something completely reasonable. The boy has grown a lot since we had our heart-to-heart before Fate of the Gods, and if his reaction to not having won tells me anything, it's that his outlook on life has changed. Maybe that goes for his ideas, too. Who knows? Maybe this one won't be so bad. Or any bad at all.

'All right.' I nod, 'I'll be serious. What is it?'

So he tells me.

And I see I was right to be worried.

III

DAD

Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean

July 9, 2016, 4AM Local Time

'NO!'

'But Dad--'

'No, Ryder!'

'But—'

'I said no, and that's fin--'

'--WHY not?!'

'Because—because I said so!'

'That's not a reason!'

'It is too a reason! Don't give me attitude, young m--'

'---I thought you cared!'

'I do, you little cocksucker!'

'Nuh-uh!'

'Oh yeah?'

'Yeah!'

'How'd you figure?'

''Cause if you cared, you'd let me!'

'Is that right, you son of a bitch?!'

'It's totally right!'

'And why's that?!'

''Cause I said so!'

I'm gonna hit this kid. I'm gonna hit this fucking kid!

'You motherfucker!'

'I know you are, but what am I?!'

There! Take that, you...

...fuck. I missed. He dodged it. I MISSED.

Deep breaths, Charlie boy. Deep breaths.

One...two...three...

...nah, screw that noise. I'm gonna ride out this anger.

'You fucking asshole!'

'What?!'

'You don't see it, do you?'

'See what?!'

'Why I won't let you!'

'Yeah. It's cause you don't care!'

'NO, you little shit! It's because I do fucking care!'

'Bullshizzle!'

Oh no he didn't!

'Are you calling me a liar?'

'If the shoe fits...'

'Oh yeah?!'

'Yeah!'

'All right, then!'

'All right, then!'

'Fine!'

'Fine!'

Ryder stalks off, yelping in pain as he stubs his toe on a deck chair before disappearing towards the sleeping quarters. I take a moment to let the night breeze hit my face, cooling me off and restoring me back to some semblance of normalcy.

As I fumble in my pockets for my cigarettes, grateful I remembered to grab them before leaving the room, I know one thing for certain:

Ryder won't be the only one not sleeping a wink tonight.

IV

MIKE

Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean

July 9, 2016, 9AM Local Time

R-Dogg and Boss had a fight last night.

Even if I ain't heard them – hell, the whole damn ocean must'a heard 'em – I would'a known by the way they looking at one another, like they trying to shoot daggers out they eyes or something. Usually, at breakfast, they be busting each other's chops and joking around and shit; today, ain't none of that. They just looking at one another and banging they spoons and shit, way Tonya used to do when I done goofed and she mad at me.

At first, I don't want to get in between them. I love R-Dogg like he my own kid, but Boss is Boss. I ain't want to make him mad, neither. So I try to just mind my own business, have my coffee, wait for shit to cool down. That's what I do; I let shit ride out. I ain't like to get involved 'less I have to. I try to tell myself that and do my thing like always...but I can't. The more that shit go on, the more I want to butt in and fix it. This ain't just some old shit. This two people I care about fighting. Even if I liked being stuck on a ship with two dudes sulking at one another, I'd still try and fix it, for they own sakes.

I look to the side, but K-Dogg ain't noticed shit. Mo'fucker too busy stuffing his fat ass. Figures. This one's on you, Big Mike.

'Hey yo...let's cool it, y'all.'

They both look at me – Boss hella mad, Ry just kind of...confused, and surprised. When I see the look on Boss's face, I kick myself for having said anything, but it don't take more than a second 'till I'm back chewing out their asses. It's gotta be done, and if it ain't me, ain't nobody else gon' do it.

'Y'all actin' like little kids. Chill out.'

'I'm 'chilled out', Michael,' Boss says, not sounding chill at all. 'And I'm not sure I appreciate your tone.'

I gulp again, but don't let that stop me. 'I'm sorry, Boss. You know I'mma play it straight with ya. And I'm sayin', ain't no good to nobody for the two a' y'all to be actin' this way.'

'Tell it to Mr. Tough Guy over there,' Boss says, jerking a thumb at Ry. 'He started it.'

'R-Dogg,' Ry says. 'Tell Mr. Hypocrite over there that it was his fault for being a freaking liar who doesn't give a crap about anyone but himself!'

When Boss be hearing this, he storms right up off his chair, and I got to step in again.

'I ain't give a shit who started it. Y'all acting like third graders. Cut that shit out!'

He stay shoving me aside and grousing a whole bunch, but I can tell he not 'bout to do nothing to R-Dogg no more. I get him to sit back down, and turn to give R-Dogg this hella angry look, let him know he done goofed. He don't look guilty in the slightest, but by the time I'm done with his white-boy ass, he will be.

'The hell you thinking, boy?! This here's your...well, this here ain't your real Dad, but he sure as hell your Dad now! How you gon' talk to him like that?!'

'He's a hypocrite,' Ryder spits. 'He says he wants me to be happy, but when I want to do something about it, he won't let me!'

Boy nearly sobbing by the end of it, and I can see even Boss starting to look less angry. Now he looking more...sorry. Still, he ain't giving no way. And R-Dogg ain't giving no way neither. They as stubborn-ass as one another, and ain't neither of them gon' admit they in the wrong.

Yeah. This gon' be a long-ass morning.

I look over at K-Dogg, for a little help, but he still busy staying out of it. I make a note to whup his ass for it later, but let it slide. There's more important shit to worry about. Such as figuring out just what the fuck this whole thing is all about.

I'm 'bout to get back into it, try to get to the bottom of thing, when my phone starts going off. I know the jingle straight away – e-mail coming in – and seeing as the only people who ever send me e-mails are standing right in front of me, it can only mean one thing.

'What's that?! Is that...?'

'Yup. New VoW card.'

'Am I in it?'

'Yup.'

'Who with?'

'Guy who won that one belt last time. Watson.'

'Well, you better tell 'em to give someone else that fight. I'm probably not gonna be in it. I'm not allowed...'

Ryder gives Boss this look, and Boss gives him a look back, and I can tell they bout to get into it again, but I ain't gon' let 'em. Hell no. Not on my watch.

'Shut the hell up, Ryder!'

I turn to Boss.

'We gon' talk about this later. The three of us. You dig?' Boss looks like he 'bout to say something, but this one time, I ain't let him. 'I don't wanna hear it, Boss. I know you the big guy, but I'm a part of the team too. And I care about R-Dogg. He family. You bet your ass I'm gon' be there. Don't even try to stop me.'

I'm expecting Boss to blast in my face, but he don't; instead, he just sits there for a while, not saying  nothing, and then nods. 

Good enough for me.

'C'mon, R-Dogg.'

R-Dogg is looking at his phone; gotta be another Pokemon or something. That game addictive as fuck. I ain't even lying.

'C'mon, R-Dogg!' This time, I grab him by the arm, start pulling him away.

'Hey yo,' he yells. 'Hold on a second! There's a Rhyhorn right beside Dad! I gotta set up some lure! Big Dogg!'

I ain't 'bout to hear it though; dude needs to be as far away from Boss as he can right now, and I know just how to do that.

'I'mma lure yo' ass and stuff you in a Pokeball if you don't hurry up,' I snap. Then, I start walking back downstairs to my room, not even waiting around for Ry. And sure enough, it ain't five seconds before I'm hearing him come down the stairs after me.

'That's right, bitch,' I mutter to myself, with a grin. 'You stick with Big Mike. We gon' work this out, Sprintex style.'

V

MIKE

Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean

July 9, 2016, 10AM Local Time

'NOW?!'

Ryder's jaw drops, and he starts bitching, but I ain't 'bout that life right now.

'Yeah, now.'

'But I got nothin'!'

'Well, you better find something hella quick, 'cause I'm 'bout to start this shit rolling!'

'Geez, hold on a second! Gimme a minute to think of something!'

'You ain't need a minute, b'. Since when you stop being good at kicking it freestyle?'

This finally works, and Ryder smiles for the first time today.

'I got it, bruh!' Suddenly, he excited again. 'I got it! I got it! Turn that shizz on!'

'Thought you didn't want it on...?' I know I'm being a jackass, but I ain't care.

'Yeah, but I want it on now! Just turn it on, yo!'

'All right, all right, it's comin' on! Damn, dawg!'

I hold up the iPad, put my finger over the button, and call out:

'Okay, you ready, b'? We doin' this in three...two...one...'

'What's up, VoW? You know who this is! This ya boy, Super Saiyan Ryder Blade!'

Damn, yo! He ain't even wait for me to finish counting!

'Now, last time you saw me, I was doing something I don't usually do. I was losing. Losing a World Title match, too. Totally bitching out. Totally punking out. Totally doing all those things I troll the shizz outta people for doing.

Except not really.'

Ry grins.

'Nah, bruh, I may have lost, but I ain't punked out. I ain't even close to punked out. Only way you'd think that is if you didn't watch the match. If you watched the match, you saw me take Big Cass to places he ain't never thought he had to go to beat that punk kid with the skateboard. You saw me live through everything that dude had, Heck, five minutes more and Big Cass would'a had to bury me alive, Big Valboski style – by the way, welcome back, bruh! Can't wait to whup your butt again!'

Ry winks.

'But yeah. I ain't chumped out. What I did was prove myself. I proved I can hang with the big dogs. I proved I ain't that punk kid nobody rated no more. After Fate of the Gods, you're all gonna have to rate me. 'Cause if you come into a match with the Big Bad Blade thinking you're gonna get the same dude from a year ago...ten to one you're gonna end up on your ass. When you're coming at The Blade, go big or go home.

And the first guy who needs to learn that lesson...is a dude called Ace Watson.'

I knew he could do it!

'Now, there's a bunch of cool stuff with Ace in the name. Ace Ventura...Ace Attorney...Ace of Spades...Ace of Base...okay, maybe not that one, but the other ones.'

Fuck you, Ry. Gon' have to cut out this part later so people don't hear me laughing.

'Ace Watson, though...he ain't one of the cool Aces. Not yet. Back about two months ago, this dude was fighting Pretty Jealous for a spot on the next season of The Biggest Loser. PJ won that, 'cause no one's a bigger loser than him; and Ace? Well, Ace kind'a hustled.'

Ry leans in.

'I gotta give it to you, man. You took the Zero Interest belt off the first person to almost make that title matter since Zzz Zhong went from here to the stars, with five candy bars. You ain't cool yet, but you're halfway the-ere, who-o-oa, livin' on a prayer!'

Did dude seriously just do that?! Man, this shit's gon' get cut up like a turkey at Thanksgiving.

'But see, that's the thing. You made it. You got your belt. But now you gotta do the rest. Now you gotta prove you deserve it. Now you gotta prove you can hang. Now you gotta prove you're cool.

Me? I ain't got nothing left to prove. I'm one belt short of being the most decorated athlete this company's ever seen. I may have lost all my records, but I proved I'm legit. I proved I'm a threat. I proved I belong. And you, Ace, you still gotta do all that.

Sucks to be you this week, bruh.'

There it is – the Ryder Smirk!

'Wanna know why? Elementary, my dear Watson. What happened to you this week was, you bit off more than you could chew. You took a step longer than your leg. You hacked the game and went straight from the tutorial to the last level boss. Which would'a been pretty clever...if you were ready for the last level boss.

See, Ace, when you step in the ring with me this week, you're gonna be like Tails without Sonic. Krillin without Goku. Beast Boy without Robin. You're gonna be Kid Link facing Ganon. You're gonna be a Bug Catcher from Viridian Forest trying to catch MewTwo with a Level 5 Metapod. It ain't gonna happen, bruh.

Now, don't get me wrong. I ain't saying I'm just gonna walk all over you. Again, that's what I would'a said a year ago. But I know better now. I've seen how you hustle. I know how good you are now. And don't get me wrong, you're pretty good. But you're not Blade good.'

Daaaayum! When RB hits his flow, ain't nobody in his path left standing.

'See, Ace, I'm more than just an up-and-comer. More than a dude who got lucky. More than a dude who's good. I'm a phenomenon, bruh. See that belt you got right now? I never had it. You wanna know why? 'Cause I never competed for it. They ain't let me. They said I was too good for it. Right when I got here. I was the first athlete in this company to ever be skipped a division. And well...I think you know the rest of that story, am I right?'

Another Ryder Smirk. This shit straight fire.

'Bottom line is, Ace of Base...on Thursday, you better bring everything you got. 'Cause for people watching at home, this may just be a random match in the middle of a random Breakthrough, with nothing on the line; but you know it ain't, right bruh? You know this is the match of your life. You know this ain't me being brought down to your level, like everyone thinks; this is you being brought up to my level. You know this is the moment you stop playing in the kiddy pool and come swim with the big kids. And all I gotta say is...hope you got your floaters on, bruh.

Otherwise, you gonna drown.'

Ryder smiles again, leaning into the camera.

'That's elementary, my dear Watson.'

'Dude!'

I turn off the tablet, run up, and high-five the shit outta R-Dogg.

'Dude, that was the mad notes, yo! How you gon' tell me you got nothin' and then you come out with that?!'

Ry shrugs. 'I had nothing. Then it just kind'a...came to me.'

'Well that was amazing! Soon's we get back home, I'mma throw it up! I ain't got that fancy program you use on here..'

'...actually, yes you do. I brought the Mac. It's in my room.'

Boss's voice makes both me and Ryder jump. We turn towards the door, and there he is, leaning, trying to smile. 

'Oh,' I say. 'That's cool.'

'Yeah.' Boss nods, Ry tries to give him an angry look again, but I can see they both itching to make up. And sure enough, not five seconds later...

'I have to apologise to you, Ryder. I treated you like a little kid. You're an adult, and you should be able to make your own decisions. I should have thought of that. We'll talk about what you asked me when we get back to New York. I promise.'

'It's alright, Dadhead.' Ry is for-real smiling this time, and it's amazing to see. 'I was sort of a jerk too.'

'Just sort of?!' Boss laughs as he steps forward and he and Ryder hug it out, like I knew they would.

'I'm proud of you no matter what, kid,' Boss mumbles into Ryder's hair. 'You know that, right?'

'Yeah,' Ry mumbles back. I know.

I grin, not saying nothing but just feeling good about myself. My work here is done; now I can relax. And that's what I plan on doing for the rest of this trip.

For now, though, there's one more thing left to take care of. I give Ry and Boss space to work their shit out and begin to walk back to the stairs. With all this shit going down, I ain't had breakfast yet, and I better get my ass up there before K-Dogg eats it all.