Uh oh, newbie fanfic!

[Reply #680 on:]

WOOHOO! Update. I loved that part. The professor was cool. As usual an excellent part. Hope you can update sooner this time

And my first TOTPD 

[Reply #681 on:]

great coming back, layla! the part is excellent, kif is back and ready to make noise, and especially this line is great:
“There’s only one sort of botany my Jamaican heart is interested in, and it’s not rose gardening.”
great!!!

[Reply #682 on:]

Layla, you can both write comedy and drama so effidy well! That last chapter had some great comedic parts. I really like your Zapp, and your Kif is in character. I don't know what else to say, really. Keep at it!

[Reply #683 on:]

man that was a lot of catch up reading but every part of it wsa chillen as always..............where do you think this stuff up?

EDIT:

oh ya is Fry's mental image thingy of his uncle alec a symbolic character for the delta brian waves or is he just a guy from fry's past?

[Reply #684 on:]

<Reads all forty-something parts>

<Jaw drops>

DAMN! Girl, you're writing some mighty fine stuff!

You've done what not a lot of other writers have accomplished:

You've left me in breathless antici-pation of more.

Keep up the good work.

.

.

.

What?

You're still here?

Whaddaya still readin' my crazed rantings for?

Get crackin' girl, write, WRITE!

.

 

[Reply #685 on:]

I knew it! I knew it was Kiff doing those noise on the ship.(Please don't tell us were he put the *Glorious Wonder*)   

Great part, keep it up. Can't wait for the next Fry and Leela part.(fav character)   

 

Originally posted by *Layla50*:
*With a choked snort, the weary old man woke. “I was having one of my favorite dreams,” he sighed. “I was sending the crew on a very dangerous mission and I was at home, in my pajamas-” *

Good one! I almost choke on that one. (Note to self: Never drink and read Layla's fic at the same time)   

Don't worry about Fry being out of character, it's your story and in the show, Fry do get courageous and brave from time to time.(ex The Day the Earth Stood Stupid, Love and Rocket, The Sting, The Why of Fry, Three Hundred Big Boys...) Fry got more courageous and capable by the end of the show. I got a little theory on that but I will not start talking about that now.(Hint: my fic was base on that little theory.)   

I have to go now, my lunch break is over.
Bye for now.

[Reply #686 on:]

Editing? Bah, you're way to critical of your self. That was great. I loved all the references to the show, especially the little pajama line, as mentioned before, and the zombie grandma. I can't say rest her dear old zombie bones, because apparebtly she is still alive. I would not watch that TV show. Again, your characterization is great, especially Kif. If I was Aiden, I would not have let Zapp out, but I'm sure it will lead some great Zapper lines in the future. Of course, watching him go insane in the cell all alone would be hilarious too.

[Reply #687 on:]

did i miss something or what.......why hasn't anyone posted anything in the past few days whats going on
it's frecking me out like this fanfic was moved to a new topic or something and i just haven't caught on

[Reply #688 on:]

I don't think it's moved, PJ.  If it has, I'll be one angry self-appointed critic.  Layla probably just had midterms or something.  (You are in school, right Layla?)

Anyway, I was going to bump this in a day or two myself, but she'll be back soon, I'm sure.

[Reply #689 on:]

(crawls out from rock)
Uh... hi. I'm just writing to reassure you of a few things. 1) I am still among the living.
2) I am recovering nicely from a very not fun bout of pneumonia.
3) I'm still working on the story, really. It's just that I can't seem to get this next update right. It's really very frustrating as it's the last past flashback, and sort of aimless right now.
As my hopefully not too angry critic postulated, I am indeed in school, and it's been particularly brutal. On top of way too much school work, I'm catching up on what I missed, working part time and rehearsing for 3 concerts in the next three weeks.

Truly, I'm sorry for leaving you all in the dark about this and I'm sorry for babbling about my workload, and I'm sorry for being sorry.  The good news is, whenever I do update, it'll be a doozy.

For anyone who was worried, there's no way I'm abandoning this story. Once we get into April, I should have more update time, thank goodness.

Once again, sorry. (Hangs head in shame.)

[Reply #690 on:]

Ah, don't worry about it.  I hope you get better soon.

[Reply #691 on:]

 

Originally posted by Layla50:
(For anyone who was worried, there's no way I'm abandoning this story. Once we get into April, I should have more update time, thank goodness.

Once again, sorry. (Hangs head in shame.)

Glad your are okay Layla, I was begining to wonder what happened to you! Don't ya hate how that Real Life stuff gets in the way! Take your time and do what you have to do, we can keep for a bit longer! 

[Reply #692 on:]

yay! Layla's not dead! *huggles Layla* I  you!

[Reply #693 on:]

 

Bah, you're way to critical of your self

I still stand by that. Anyways, we're just glad you did't die. By the way, I was watching Parasites Lost, and it seems perfectly plausible that Fry could become brain damage other than the delta waves. Because the worms were able to repair it, even without the delta waves, and Fry went back and damaged it, thus becoming stupid once more. Of course, being as I don't know how brainwaves work, maybe they did repair it, but it looked liked all Fry damaged was the nerves. Anyways, who cares. All that matters is your story is excellent, and we don't care about the wait because it is that good.

[Reply #694 on:]

dude just reading about all the things you are doing is making me tired....how do ya find time for all that

[Reply #695 on:]

Man, Canadians really are compulsive apologizers.

Good to hear from you Layla.  I was this close to writing you to make sure you were alright, but fortunately you've saved me the effort of typing.  Except I'm typing now...ah screw it.  I'm glad you're alright and massively impressed with your workload.  You're doing all of that and you still have the time to tell stories for us?  I feel special.

Anyway, again, glad you're alright.

[Reply #696 on:]

Wow Layla, your workload sure look's like mine.(only I don't have school anymore but I do have work    )

Yep, we Canadian have a lot of thing to do every day.

 I am glad that you are okay, those damn virus are very strong this year. My kid got some kind of lung infection but it’s almost over now. Thank god now I can finely get some sleep at night.   

Take care. Revient nous en santé et n’oublie pas de nous surprendre avec une nouvelle partie de ta superbe histoire.   

Bye for now.

[Reply #697 on:]

Aw... did you give us this little update because I asked you to in my thread?

No? 

Oh well.

Glad to hear you’re OK, or at least feeling better. While I’d like to think our workloads are comparable so I don’t feel so bad about long update delays, I’ve never had to do work with a sickness like that.  Godspeed.

[Reply #698 on:]

come on ! do the update!!!

[Reply #699 on:]

Dude it is sick and wrong to ask her to up date 
when she has all that crap to do already

plus theirs the whole didn't rush fine things or it will go to the crapper

Peace

[Reply #700 on:]

Layla, I'm just glad you're alive and willing to update (I'm alive too, obviously). Take your time and don't overwork yourself!!

I never did get around to reviewing your most recent installment, and I'm sorry   . But I did read it, and it was very good, sad, funny, and nerve-wracking (You can never have us stop worrying even while laughing, can you?). I loved it just as I loved every other chapter, of course... and I'm relieved to finally know the source of the noises and that Kif is A.O.K.!

Alrighty then... check you later (though hopefully sooner!)

Wow, I'm the 700th reply? That's the first time I ever did anything remarkable!

[Reply #701 on:]

 

Wow, I'm the 700th reply? That's the first time I ever did anything remarkable!

Damn...701. Stupid meaningless milestones getting in the way of me...being...the reciever type...lady...of the meaningless milestone myself! (Seriously, though, congratulations on your meaningless milestone, say what now    )*

Anyway, like everyone here, I'm glad you didn't die, Layla (pneumonia...that sucks). And I'm sorry I haven't read your latest update until just now. But, the truth is, when I came back here a few days ago, I saw that you hadn't updated since I left (of course, who could blame you...my workload isn't even half that heavy and I still can't get everything done...I respect your work ethic, girl), and I wanted to save the update I missed so I could savor it later on. Obviously, I failed, but at least now I get to do a review! Woo-hoo! (Hey, that rhymes!) (I am such a loser...)

Your last update was hilarious. It advanced the plot, it had some drama, and it was funny expositiony stuff (I don't know how you do it...I can't even write boring expositiony stuff). Zapp was hilarious, Dr. Rumelle, Munda, and the Professor were great (the former two in the drama department, the latter in the insane-old-scientist department). Here are some of my favorite bits...

   

“Come home to us, Leela. Please.” Munda squeezed each of her daughter’s finger tips in turn, hoping to elicit a response, any response. “And bring your friend back with you.” Tears brimmed in her eye, and every once in a while, a single drop would dart forward and escape the boundaries, streaking hot down her face. The mutant was all too aware that time was slipping away from them. In the distance, she could hear occasional crashes and other sounds of fighting, and those sounds were getting steadily closer.

Nice opening. It's dramatic and whatnot, which is cool.

   

“So, did you find it?” Captain Brannigan never lost sight of important matters.

Sweet sarcasm...sort of like that commentating on your own story thing that say what now talks about...and I love to read.

   

“You disgust me.” Zapp’s voice dripped with contempt as he glared at the crewman keeping watch. Johnson glanced idly at his former captain.

“Likewise,” he said with a shrug.

Brannigan was undeterred. “I’m not surprised that you disgust yourself, you mutiny…guy. You swore an oath to serve this ship and her captain in the proud DOOP Navy. Now look at you, a traitor, being betraitorous.” Amusement danced on the crewman’s face as Zapp attempted to browbeat him.

Everything that Zapp says in this chapter is so hilarious. That's just one of my favortite parts, is all. (tee, hee, hee...betraitorous). It's fun to see how well you've evolved when it comes to writing Zapp (he started out funny, but now he's just...oh God, is he hilarious).

Also, I liked Kif in this part, because you seem to have nailed his characterization (I like the call back to fluid filled bladders (try saying that five times fast...no, seriously)) and his interaction with Amy is so sweet.

Eagerly awaiting this supposed Fry/Leela flashbacky chapter. Great stuff.


*say what now: That was actually really mean of me. What I really mean to say is that 700 posts is a great achievement for Layla, and you got her there, girl! I just liked doing the fake bitch (or, real bitch) thing. Sorry if I rained on your parade...which I'm not sure (and also sorry) I did*


P.S: Totally off-topic, out of nowhere question: I'm sitting here eating ginger snaps (nutrition is for chumps), and I'm wondering: why are they called ginger snaps? What's a snap? Any theories?


P.P.S.: Oh, God...sorry about that. Insomnia is destroying what little part of my brain is left...

[Reply #702 on:]

 

Originally posted by Gorky:
say what now: That was actually really mean of me. What I really mean to say is that 700 posts is a great achievement for Layla, and you got her there, girl! I just liked doing the fake bitch (or, real bitch) thing. Sorry if I rained on your parade...which I'm not sure (and also sorry) I did*

Pfff, I don't care. My parade was crap.

[Reply #703 on:]

Hey all! The end is near! (At least, the end of the big crunch... which means I'll be updating by this weekend at the very latest!) I've really missed you of course.Yay for Gorky's return, and Bergey's being all updatey, woot!
(And Bergey, yes I did poke my head in to reply cause you asked me to!) Oh, and yay for say what now's milestone  and yay for everybody else!

Special thanks to N-o-r who prompted this post with his exceedingly sweet post in the other thread. (Huggles him)

See ya soon! Really! (but not literally) (Thanks funny if you're me...)

[Reply #704 on:]

I'm baaaacckk! And double posting, with a vengeance, but hey, it's worth it for an update, right?

This isn't all I've got written, so you'll be getting another update this weekend, but I didn't want to sleep without posting something for everyone who's been waiting so long.

I hope you enjoy this, and I'll try to update more regularly from now on, 'til I've finished this story.

Thanks so much for all your replies and support, I'll respond personally whenI've gotten some shut eye.

Part 47:

   Leela closed her eye against the turbulent emotions Fry’s words had sent churning within her. Both word and thought failed under the torrent of grief and icy shock, so she waited. Distantly, she was aware that Fry was still talking to her but she could not make sense of his words. Leela didn’t want to listen to him at that moment anyway.

   After a while, something wet touched her cheek, warm skin under cool water, dragging her back to their situation. She reluctantly opened her eye to find Fry’s face inches from hers. He was stroking her cheek tenderly, eyes full of concern. “Please don’t cry, Leela. I’m sorry.”

   Turanga Leela wasn’t about to stand for that! “I’m not crying,” she replied firmly, her pride stung.

   Visibly relieved that she’d finally said something, Fry moved away from her face and once again took hold of the rock face. The distance between them upset her and she moved after him to rest the side of her head on the same wall. It was stabilizing, both mentally and physically. “I am fine.” Leela addressed him with all the confidence she could muster at that moment. “You’re going to be fine too, so don’t you give up! You hear me?” Even to her own ears, the words fell flat and untruthful.

   Fry hastily lifted his hand out of the water to rub his forehead, splashing water in his eyes in the process. “Yeesh. Easy, Leela, I hear you, okay?” He smiled at her, but it was forced and unnatural. “No giving up. Gotcha, captain.”

   Leela felt a strange sense of dread as she peered into his eyes. They were without hope. “You don’t mean that,” she whispered with terrible certainty. She waited for a response, but Fry did not deny it. The cyclops moaned softly, filled with grief. It felt like he was already dead, like the real Fry had slipped away, leaving only an animated corpse behind, soulless.

   The redhead hesitated before managing a quiet, “Sorry.” The regret, at least, was genuine. Looking away, he pleaded with her again. “Won’t you please go?”

   Leela metaphorically put her foot down. She would have stamped it for real, but the steadily rising water took all the drama out of the gesture. “I’m not leaving you, even if I knew how!”

   But the delivery boy was unconvinced. “You just wake up. That’s all,” he said with a shrug, as if it should have been obvious. Leela shook her head and Fry frowned at her. “You’re not telling me that Captain Think Ahead came in here with no idea of how to get out. That’s not like you at all!” Leela was astonished to see uncertainty and suspicion in his stance. With a start, she realized he had begun to doubt she was the real Leela.

   She reacted quickly to put a stop to that line of thinking. “Well, what was I supposed to do?! You were just lying there, dying! And then Nixon was trying to do who knows what to you and it was all my fault!”

   “Hey, c’mon, Leela. It’s not like you put a laser to my head.” A dreamy look crossed his face. “Like that time Bender wanted to stop FOX from airing Survivor: Delta Quadrant, and then they offered him a spot if he could stand watching his dearest friend getting buried in live, cranky scorpions.” He chuckled easily at the memory. “Heh. I’m still finding carapaces.”

   Leela gaped at him; these sudden shifts in moods were disturbing. Oblivious to her anxiety, Fry continued to laugh, utterly relaxed despite everything. It was so like him. Finally, a rueful grin crossed the woman’s face. “Now there’s the Fry I know and love, most of the time.”

   He smiled back faintly, a little bit of life sparking in his eyes again. If anything, the redhead was resilient. “See, I told you I would grow on you.”

   Leela kicked him under the water, which, fortunately for Fry diffused much of the force. Still, the tension between them had not truly dissipated and both of them could feel disaster threatening. It was a cold, crawly feeling running up their spines that laughter could not dispel.

The cyclops decided to draw his attention back to the past. She felt an odd compulsion to listen; it was like divining a mystery.

   “I’m sure you’re getting tired of hearing this, Fry, but since we’ve got nothing else to do…” The delivery boy perked up immediately.

   “You want us to play, I, spy?” he asked eagerly, “Okay! I’ll go first-”

   “No! Tell me what happened after you, uh-” Now how could she phrase it?

   “Got my head bashed in by my dear old uncle Alec?” That would do it.

   “Beats that irritating game anyway. Did you know it started a war between the Optic Superians and the Hueindistinguishers? That was quite a bloodbath… at least I think it was blood. The Opti’s were trying to surrender for a month before they realized the Disti’s didn’t know what colour the flag was. Shame, really. They had great prices on fluorescents. I got the nicest lime-green-”

   “Uh, Leela? Wasn’t I supposed to be telling the story?” She winked at him blankly.

   “Oh, right. Go ahead.” While he looked on, Leela tapped her head lightly, muttering, “Must be contagious.” Fry’s smile faded as he took up the tale again, and Leela quickly sobered.

   “Well, I was out for nearly a month after he gonged me.  When I woke up, it was just, weird. So much had changed.”

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

   The weak flicker as long unused muscles pried open Philip’s eyelids was greeted with far more enthusiasm that the first time he’d opened his eyes. The world was a blurry mass, as though those same eyes had forgotten how to focus. Idly, he wondered if the world had been as blurry when he was first born. His ears gained their memory quicker than his bleary eyes. ‘Clever fellas,’ his wavering thoughts commented. Dark flashes of fragmented memories suggested to him that perhaps it was better not to see the world. A voice, soothing and familiar, rallied his failing courage. Mom.

   “He’s awake! He’s awake!” came the jubilant whisper as a reddish orange blob shifted into view. The fragile little boy tried to say something, but his tongue wouldn’t cooperate. ‘Jerk’.

On top of everything, the ten-year old felt wrapped up in a warm, dry pain. What on earth had happened to him? “Easy love,” crooned his mother’s voice as gentle and intense as he’d ever heard it. Don’t try to speak.”

   Another voice chimed in, “Is he really awake, mom?”

‘Yancy,’ his addled brain supplied snottily, derisive of his confusion. ‘My own brain hates me,’ Phil thought ruefully, ‘that can’t be good.’ He tried to coax more information from the stubborn organ, but it refused to co-operate.
‘Better not to give away too much just yet’, it suggested, as if it didn’t quite trust Phil with his own knowledge.
‘Double jerk.’
      
   Movement from the blob distracted him from the schizophrenic conversation. ‘What was that?’ Oh, right. A nod. Fry could understand that. Curiosity overruled lethargy, and he tried to ask his mom what happened, but it only came out as a barely audible, “Mmmmhmmmwah?”

   “Shh.” Nancy murmured, her voice soft with a mix of delight, relief and profound gratitude. “Rest now, Phillip. We’ll take care of you.” That sounded good to Phil. With a faint but contented sigh, he dropped off again into healing sleep.

 Nancy turned her attention to Yancy who had been sketching in a chair, waiting for his father to get off work so he could go home. The pad of paper dangled limply in his hand forgotten in his astonishment at his brother’s waking.

   “Stay here and keep an eye on your brother.” Nancy ordered. ‘I’m going to let those doctors know Phil woke up.” She smiled weakly, appearing terribly fragile in her eldest son’s eyes, like she was made of glass.  Reporting to the doctors was probably the most responsible thing she’d done in years, at least, before the … attack. Yancy idly wondered when she would start acting more like herself again. “Then I’ll call your father,” she continued, ‘he’ll be so relieved.”

   “I’ll look out for Phil, mom.” Yancy Junior promised solemnly, putting down his drawing and moving closer to the bed. When his mother had gone, the teenager began talking to his brother, hoping it would help him recover.

Over the past weeks, he had heard more than he’d ever wanted to know about the effects of a blow to someone’s head as severe as the one his brother had received. If what the doctor said was true, a big ‘If’, since Yancy Jr. was only slightly more inclined to accept the words of authority than Yancy Sr., if they were right, then Phil might never be the same. It was a frightening thought for the fourteen year old, and Yancy didn’t like to dwell on it too long.

After all, Yancy was a Fry, and Fry’s did not give up, most of the time. They were fighters and up ‘til now, he’d always thought of his easy-going brother as an exception to the trend. Yancy flicked the limp hand closest to him. There was no response. His brother in a nutshell. Phil surrendered most of the time when arguments broke out. However, he didn’t seem inclined to surrender now that his life was on the line, and Yancy was grateful that Phil could draw on those hidden generations of hot blood when he needed to.

The teen had already promised on several occasions to treat his baby brother like gold if only he woke up, whole and healthy.

   “Prove ‘em wrong, Phil.” Words began pouring out through his tense lips. “They don’t know what you’re made of, those idiot doctors, but I know, now.”

Yancy smiled sadly. “You know, one of the best things you ever did was joke. You could laugh your way out of anything. Remember when Bruce threatened to hang you upside down in your underwear from the fence outside the community college, and you said it was closer to college than he’d ever get?” Yancy recounted the story with great intensity, hoping Phil would hear and remember. The teen’s brow furrowed as he remembered the incident more clearly. “Oh, wait, that was me talking about you, wasn’t it?” He left off, cringing a mute apology. “The point is, we both know that they can’t keep you down no matter what they do, ‘cause if I can’t do it, no one can. So you better get better, dog breath.” Yancy fidgeted uneasily before adding softly, “You’re a good brother, for a dork.”

   In the past year, Philip had taken to drawing cartoons in imitation of Yancy’s particular talent. It was about the only thing Yancy did really well, and he was quite proud of it. The teen had complained vehemently when his little brother had started drawing too, after all, Phil had probably only started out of jealousy for the attention Yancy was getting. It didn’t matter that no one could deny that the redhead did not have an ounce of his big brother’s artistic ability. If drawing was Yancy’s, then Phil wanted it.

Deep down inside, however, the teen rather liked the way Phil copied him. It was nice to have someone look up to him, no matter how square that person was.

   Yancy sighed heavily in the barren room, feeling a bit guilty. “You’ve got some great things of your own, you know; you really do. I don’t know if you know that.” His brother remained quiet, breathing steadily.

A playful thought struck the teen. “Maybe when you get out of here, I’ll copy you for a while, so you realize that.” Yancy grinned. “Probably gonna drive you crazy.”

-----------------------------------------   
   Over the following two weeks, Philip Fry regained his strength. He was awake only for short periods at first, but they gradually grew longer. When the doctors finally let him out of bed, walking proved to be a real struggle. The extensive injuries coupled with prolonged inactivity had stolen Phil’s mobility, but gradually that was returning to him as well.

“Doubtless,” the nurses said, ‘his youth is speeding his recovery significantly.’ However, everyone around the ten-year old understood that his recuperation would be a long, drawn out, process. Yancy Fry Senior understood that, yes, he did, but it frustrated him to no end. His father’s impatience was no secret to Philip.

   Phil grew more and more upset as time dragged on. Nothing felt right, especially himself. He was stuck in the hospital, surrounded by strangers, and not just strange doctors and nurses, but his strange family. Even they were strangers to him now. His father had not once complained about his youngest son’s ‘surrendering’ them to government surveillance or even mentioned how lazy Phil was being cooped up in that room for so long. It was too strange.

   His mother, who had barely acknowledged his existence before that terrible night, now rarely left his side for anything. She bubbled over with kind affection for her “sweet boy,” telling him how much she loved and treasured him. It wasn’t natural.

   Even his annoying older brother, who, Phil knew, had harboured a fair amount of contempt for him in the past, seemed like a completely different person. Yancy told him about the comings and goings of his friends, not to mention secrets about girls, and he had even offered to help Phil with his cartoons. It just wasn’t right.

   In addition to all those bizarre changes, Katie’s loss constantly loomed over him. The day after Alec when on the murderous rampage, Child Protection Services had been brought in. After an investigation, Katie had been fostered somewhere, and the family had not been told where, in case, though it didn’t seem likely, Alec was acquitted and could come looking for his daughter.

Phil was happy she would be kept safe, but still, he missed her and wished he’d at least gotten to say goodbye. Would he ever see her again? His mother assured him that he would, but like his paranoid father, Phil had his doubts.

   A nurse had just brought him back to his room after a short, but exhausting walk through the halls when a welcome face arrived at the door. “How’s my boy?” came the boisterous greeting as Yancy Senior and Junior walked in.

   “I’m good, dad!” 10-year-old Fry grinned from around his mother’s efforts to tuck him in. Yancy Junior hopped up on the bed beside him. “Did you hear? They’re finally letting you outta here soon!” While the surprised patient digested that with flickers of uneasiness in his eyes, a bright smile lit Nancy’s face. “Really?!” A crooked grin was her husband’s only reply. Yancy Sr. was all too eager to escape the ever-watching eyes of these Fascist-Communist pansies.

   “Oh, could I talk to Phil for a minute?” Both parents gave Yancy a skeptical look. When their boy used that particular tone of voice…
Philip came to his rescue. “Please?” he whined, eyes wide.

   Exchanging glances, they relented. “Alright, we’re gonna invade the cafeteria for some rations. Gotta keep our strength up for the springing of the trap.”

   Before they left for lunch, Nancy cautioned Yancy, “Don’t strain your brother.”    

Phil rolled his eyes, but Yancy nodded seriously. “I won’t.”

   Left alone, the boys looked at each other calmly before breaking in to laughing. “That’s a nice trick,” Yancy chuckled. “You’ve got them wrapped around your little finger, even the Commander.”

   Phil frowned at him, amusement fading. “It’s not a trick, it’s weird.”

   Yancy frowned back at his brother, before shrugging. “Yeah, whatever. Hey, look what I brought you!” With a glance around the room to make sure no one was watching, Yancy opened his knapsack.

Curious, Phil leaned forward but his big brother pulled it away quickly. “Nuh uh. You have to close your eyes.”

Phil glanced at his brother warily. Yancy’s playful teasing sent warning shivers up the redhead’s spine. “Why?” he demanded suspiciously. “What are you going to do to me?”

Deep down however, Phil perversely hoped that a mean-spirited prank was coming his way. At least then, something would be back to normal! But Yancy laughed and gave him a mischievous, but careful, shove on the shoulder. “I’m not going to do anything to you, now close your eyes.” Prepared for the worst, Fry obeyed. “Good, now hold out your hands,” came Yancy’s voice.

Fry could *hear* the devious smile. “You better not spit on me again, Yancy.”

A hand snagged him abruptly and pulled his hands forward, causing Phil to struggle against his brother. “Oh, relax, will you?” Yancy muttered, exasperated. He pressed something into Fry’s hands. A tube, papery but strong. There was a funny, yet familiar smell to it. Suddenly, he put the pieces together. Phil’s eyes flew open. “Fireworks!” he gasped and Yancy shushed him quickly.

“Me and the guys did a little... exploring. I’ve got eight of them.” He tipped the bag gingerly so Fry could see the brightly coloured tubes.

Real excitement flooded Phil. “Oh, wow!” he hissed in boyish joy. Brimming over with smug satisfaction, Yancy took the firework from his brother’s eager hands and secreted it away again. “Why?” he had to ask. It was not like Yancy at all to be sharing something so righteous with him. He was far more likely to steal awesome things away from him.

   “Cause Dad’ll tan our hides and throw us in the hole if he finds out,” the dark haired boy replied with a roll of his eyes, misunderstanding the question.

   Phil shook his head violently. “No, why are you showing this to me? Why are you being so great?!”

   Caught off guard by the question, Yancy looked like a deer in the headlights for an instant, before shrugging in chagrin. “Just something for you to look forward to when you get out of here.”

   That was the last straw. Furiously, though he didn’t quite understand why he was furious, Phil shoved Yancy hard enough to knock him off the bed. “Stop it!” he shrieked as Yancy stared at him in uncomprehending disbelief. “I’m so sick of this!” A bit of anger crept into Yancy’s eyes.

   “Are you crazy? I’m just trying to be nice!” The teen gathered himself off the floor and glared at Phil, arms crossed defensively.

   “Exactly!” Fry cried, “and it’s mean!” he added unreasonably.

   “Keep your voice down!” Yancy hissed as footsteps sounded outside the door. “You want everyone on the block to hear you?” Breathing heavily, Fry tried to get control of himself while Yancy quickly assured the concerned nurse that his brother was fine. After a quick survey of the room and a stern glance at the teen, she moved on.

   Yancy returned to the bigger
problem. “What’s eating you Philip?”

For a minute, Fry considered refusing to respond, but Yancy had a set look on his face and Phil knew he would not let the matter drop. He bore a striking resemblance to his namesake, or rather, the latest version of his namesake, in that moment, though Fry had never seen the family connection before.

   “I’m tired of it.” the redhead started uncertainly, anger giving way to frustration and distress.

   “Tired of what, Phil? Me being nice?” Yancy’s confusion was all too clear.

   “Yes! No… I don’t know,” Phil mumbled unhappily, trying to gather his thoughts. “Nothing’s right anymore, Yancy. It’s like I’m not me now. I feel like … I’m not really part of the family anymore.” There. It was out.

   Yancy didn’t say anything right away and the anxious redhead wanted to yank a response out of him. Finally, the older boy replied, “Phil, of course you’re still a part of the family. Why do you think we’ve been treating you so nice?” He didn’t wait for a response.  “So you feel okay! So you know we …love you.” Those were hard words for one brother to say to another.

   “But you’re not treating me like family, you’re treating me like company, and not just dad’s war buddies either!” The redhead growled under his breath. “Do you know how long it’s been since dad told me that I’d never survive the “coming storm” if I didn’t shape up? Or since mom called me, “That little redhead kid? Or since you called me dumb or stupid or anything else?” Phil sucked in a shuddering breath.

   Yancy blinked at his brother, baffled. “What do you want, Phil?” You want me to call you stupid? That doesn’t make sense.”

   “The only reason you’re not calling me stupid is because… I am stupid.” The last words were a kind of horrible confession, quiet and tormented, and full of enduring shame. Yancy swallowed hard, and at last, Philip saw understanding in his eyes, if only for a brief moment before Yancy looked away.

   “Yeah, well, you gotta understand that it’s weird for us too. We don’t know how to act. You say weird things sometimes now. You don’t make sense all the time. I don’t know what to do.” Another confession, no less horrible.

   “Me neither.” Phil said quietly.

   “But I don’t think that makes you stupid Phil.” Yancy added quickly. Phil just looked at him. “No, really,” Yancy continued with growing confidence. “You’re different, that’s true, but that isn’t the same as being stupid. You still use those big words you like sometimes,” he offered, grasping for ideas. “And you think about things, like, uh… space!”

   The teen’s attempt at comfort fell flat and Phil’s face crumbled, near tears. “That’s one of the worst things about this, Yancy. Now I’ll never be an astronaut.”

   Yancy glanced askew at him. “C’mon Phil. There’s no way you would ever be an astronaut anyway.”

   “Yeah, but now I know it for sure!” The redhead moaned plaintively, and pulled the hospital sheet over his head in a childish attempt to escape his problems.

   For a while, Yancy Fry Junior was silent, obviously deep in thought. Phil peeked out from under the sheet. Something about his brother’s expression told him that big things were on his brother’s mind. Finally, Yancy broke the silence. “I don’t really know what to tell you, bro. You got a lousy deal, and it never should have happened.” The regret on Yancy’s face surprised Phil. “But you know, you might just have saved Katie’s life. I guess you just have to ask yourself if she was worth it.” The pointed words hit their target, and the redhead looked away awkwardly as Yancy continued, “But what you did is already done, and nothing will change that. If it makes you feel any better,” and here, Yancy’s voice dropped to just above a whisper, “I think you’re a hero.”

   The 10 year old sighed quietly. “I don’t feel like a hero.”
   --------------------------------

Talk to me baby! I missed you!

[Reply #705 on:]

Yay!! Layla's back! And she comes bearing Shippy! And a flashback, but i liked the shippy best. And the promise of regular updates! Weeeeeeeeeee!!!!!

[Reply #706 on:]

Holy Crap! That was the best thing I've ever read. Fry and Leela were so perfectly in character as always.

 

Leela closed her eye against the turbulent emotions Fry’s words had sent churning within her. Both word and thought failed under the torrent of grief and icy shock, so she waited. Distantly, she was aware that Fry was still talking to her but she could not make sense of his words. Leela didn’t want to listen to him at that moment anyway.

Great beggening to a great chapter. I always like storyie start with a lot of emotion

 

“Hey, c’mon, Leela. It’s not like you put a laser to my head.” A dreamy look crossed his face. “Like that time Bender wanted to stop FOX from airing Survivor: Delta Quadrant, and then they offered him a spot if he could stand watching his dearest friend getting buried in live, cranky scorpions.” He chuckled easily at the memory. “Heh. I’m still finding carapaces.”

 

“You want us to play, I, spy?” he asked eagerly, “Okay! I’ll go first-”

 

Fry could *hear* the devious smile. “You better not spit on me again, Yancy.”

These lines really lightened the mood of the beggening of the chapter. But still fit perfectly with the rest of the chapter still. All very good lines. Especially the part abouut Bender and FOX.

 

“I’m tired of it.” the redhead started uncertainly, anger giving way to frustration and distress.

“Tired of what, Phil? Me being nice?” Yancy’s confusion was all too clear.

“Yes! No… I don’t know,” Phil mumbled unhappily, trying to gather his thoughts. “Nothing’s right anymore, Yancy. It’s like I’m not me now. I feel like … I’m not really part of the family anymore.” There. It was out.

Awww... how sad. I love all these Fry and Yancy flashbacks. Keep 'em coming!

 

The 10 year old sighed quietly. “I don’t feel like a hero.”

I really liked this line, one of my favorite lines from this chapter. A very nice ending and very touching. Keep the updates coming, I can't wait to read what will happen.

[Reply #707 on:]

More commentary later...just out of curiosity, when did FOX acquire the rights to Survivor from NBC?

And welcome back, Layla.  I really missed you and your stuff.

Holy shit it's quarter to five.  I need Nyquil.

EDIT: Venus: Yeah, like I actually watch the thing.  I think I got it confused with Fear Factor, and like I said, it was late.  Also, Layla responded exactly how I wanted.  So predictable in the large scale, yet so randomly hilarious in detail.

[Reply #708 on:]

When did NBC acquire the rights to Survivor from CBS?

sorry NOR, as a survivor watcher i couldn't resist.

[Reply #709 on:]

   

Originally posted by Nerd-o-rama:
More commentary later...just out of curiosity, when did FOX acquire the rights to Survivor from NBC?

During the Great Network war of 2525 of course. Ah, it was terrible. The world held its breath as Evil Android Murdorch the Monstrous crushed the NBC Planet Killer in a high stakes battle over a Georgian dirt farm. Naturally, all this occured mere hours after CBS's DeathStar (which used the head of George Lucas for design inspiration) succumbed to the above mentioned Planet Killer with only a faint, gibbering wail of protest "Meesa sorry!"

Sadly enough, the noble CBC fell in the first hours when SomeGuyYou'veNeverHeardOf proudly annouced they had dropped Hockey Strike Night in Canada (a fully owned and operated subsidiary of the US) for 15 hour long documentaries about the history of toe nail clippers, which would be artfully accompanied by Schoenberg's "Someone ran over my cat today, and this is what it sounded like" suite. They were taken down by their only viewers, Norm, Mike and Abby, with judicious use of pitchforks and fire. 

The whole thing of course paled in comparison to the cola wars, and don't get me started on long distance providers and Airlines.

Explanations are fun.   

[Reply #710 on:]

One: Love the explination! But, does that mean that Joe Rogan will no longer be the host?

Two: Awesome chapter. Fry's reactions to his family are really cool, and adds a new reason to why he felt the way he did when he was grown up. (That sentence didn't make sense to me.) Anyways. Overall, it is a very interesting story, and I have to go take some Tylenol right now, because I have a headache on my eye.

[Reply #711 on:]

I thought I was going to have a heart attack when I saw this thread up here again. Honestly.

I think this one was one of the best ones yet. The way you got both Leela and Fry was simply spot-on, for starters, and the relationship between Fry and Yancy Jr. was almost too much. I let out some tears reading this, just a bit. You simply keep outdoing yourself. Don't stop it! I eagerly await next installment.

[Reply #712 on:]

Layla has risen from the dead and dormant! Huzzah! We missed you!

Anyways, I want to do full depth review, but I'm feeling kinda lazy. I promise to come back and edit for the review, so if this page gets longer, you'll know why.

Still have to say one of my favorite chapters, with the shippy and the warm and fuzzy family flashbacks, with a twinge of sadness. That last line was such an emotional punch. Wow, that kinda sounded like a weird recipe. Well, keep on the good work!

[Reply #713 on:]

HUrah!!!!! Layla is back... And with another great chapter... Great work, hoping to read something again soon... Left me quite shocked...

Wonderful job Layla... Keep it up!!

[Reply #714 on:]

I almost died when I saw this update, 'cause, y'know, I'm glad this thread is back. In fact, I'd dance, if it weren't for that fact that I have this lingering thread of...whatzit called?...oh yeah, shame.

Oh, who am I kidding?

*Dances*

Anyway, what is there to say? Wait, wait, wait...what is there to say that won't make me seem like a dork? (Oh wait...too late...)

What I meant to say is that this last part was great. I could offer some sort of long-winded explanation, but I'm lazy and confused and mule faced (Okay, Gorky, just stick to the fic, stick to the fic...) (Hey, that rhymes!), so instead I'll just haphazardly quote things and then tell you why I liked 'em. (Laziness is fun!)

 

Leela closed her eye against the turbulent emotions Fry’s words had sent churning within her. Both word and thought failed under the torrent of grief and icy shock, so she waited. Distantly, she was aware that Fry was still talking to her but she could not make sense of his words. Leela didn’t want to listen to him at that moment anyway.

After a while, something wet touched her cheek, warm skin under cool water, dragging her back to their situation. She reluctantly opened her eye to find Fry’s face inches from hers. He was stroking her cheek tenderly, eyes full of concern. “Please don’t cry, Leela. I’m sorry.”

Turanga Leela wasn’t about to stand for that! “I’m not crying,” she replied firmly, her pride stung.

Okay, as far as that first paragraph goes, it was awesome, like all your intros. Well-written, to boot. The second paragraph is just...wow. I sort of like the tenderness in that moment ("...face inches from hers..." filled me with this shippy sort of glee that can only be expressed in a duet of some sort (yeah, that makes no sense, I know...just know that I loved that). And then Leela just snapped back into character. Great stuff.

 

Leela metaphorically put her foot down. She would have stamped it for real, but the steadily rising water took all the drama out of the gesture.

I'm gonna pretend the whole "metaphorically" thing was for me. Even if it wasn't, I still liked that bit. Maybe it's just me, but I find it amusing or something.

 

Leela gaped at him; these sudden shifts in moods were disturbing. Oblivious to her anxiety, Fry continued to laugh, utterly relaxed despite everything. It was so like him. Finally, a rueful grin crossed the woman’s face. “Now there’s the Fry I know and love, most of the time.”

He smiled back faintly, a little bit of life sparking in his eyes again. If anything, the redhead was resilient. “See, I told you I would grow on you.”

Leela kicked him under the water, which, fortunately for Fry diffused much of the force.

Now that was a shippy moment. Not totally, but it was close. I also like how you show their friendship (her kicking him), because I like that aspect of their relationship.

 

“Beats that irritating game anyway. Did you know it started a war between the Optic Superians and the Hueindistinguishers? That was quite a bloodbath… at least I think it was blood. The Opti’s were trying to surrender for a month before they realized the Disti’s didn’t know what colour the flag was. Shame, really. They had great prices on fluorescents. I got the nicest lime-green-”

“Uh, Leela? Wasn’t I supposed to be telling the story?” She winked at him blankly.

“Oh, right. Go ahead.” While he looked on, Leela tapped her head lightly, muttering, “Must be contagious.”

Did...did Leela just go on a rant full of non-sequiters? I think I'm gonna die. (Um...what I mean is...me likey. It funny. Want more...ey.)

 

Movement from the blob distracted him from the schizophrenic conversation.

Not only do you use this cliche of characters conversing with their oftentimes non-existent brains, but you add that comment on schizophrenia. Now that's funny.


Now, there's not really much more to say about the flashback. I loved it, of course. I mean, you had some gags (some Yancy Sr. gags, to boot), and you had tension and drama and that Fry/Yancy relationship that I love. I think my favorite thing about this part, though, was the fact that Fry was sick and tired of people treating him the way they are. I've been through situations where family members have been in not-so-great positions health-wise, and the first thing you gotta learn is to treat them like you would under normal circumstances. 'Cause if you're totally serious or not yourself, it'll kill ya'. But anyway, great aspect to the story. (And don't even get me started on that last line...so perfect.)

Wow, that was pretty serious. Need something to lighten the mood, here...

Look over there, a monkey! (Yeah...that should do it...)

Er, anyway...awaiting an update as always, Layla.
 

[Reply #715 on:]

I'm working on a longer comment on this story as a whole.  Let me just say for now that my overall impression is that it is brilliant work.

[Reply #716 on:]

Layla, I am pretty sure this is my favorite chapter. I mean, it's hard to choose because there have been so many other brilliant ones... but I just really, really liked this one. The opening paragraph was captivating and well-written... I mean, the whole thing was well-written. I also loved the second opening paragraph (the flashback one, I mean). There was so much nice commentary throughout and I don't know... I just really, really liked how this chapter was written. I liked the exchange between Yancy and Fry a lot too.

So, really. I had to wait forever for this, but I've never been so satisfied. The wait was so worth it.

[Reply #717 on:]

YAY! Layla has returned! I loved the chapter...I feel sorry for Fry and Yancy.

I'm really getting curious about what will happen to Fry. I have a suspicion, but I can't be too sure.

[Reply #718 on:]

Thanks everyone, I really appreciate all your support. This little bit is so short it doesn't really qualify as an update, but I hope you enjoy it. N-o-r will probably find his own secret enjoyment in this, at least I hope so.

We are definately approaching the end of this monstrosity, and I'm glad, and sad too. I very much look forward to your reactions to the worst cliffie I think I've written (also my favorite) and just to see how it all wraps up. It's been a wild ride!

I'm so glad you're sticking with me. I have to admit it occured to me that I'd lose my audience after such a long wait, but you've prooved me wrong, thank you!

Next few chapters will come as fast as I can write them. Thanks again!
--------------------------------------

The infiltrator moved stealthily down the corridors of the medical station. The scent of blood and disinfectant flowed around him thickly, intriguing him. If all went well, the millennium of waiting might finally be over. Could the lady have been right? Did hope of ultimate victory lie in the Third Door On The Right?

Cuddlebug felt a thrill surge through his nauseatingly adorable frame. Dodging past the gangly legs of the members of the ridiculously tall species, the Nibblonian slipped quietly into the Third Door.

   A guardian lay dozing on a chair in the room. “Shameful!” Cuddlebug cooed sweetly in disgust. Was this all the protection assigned to the creature that might well be the Mighty One long foretold? Anything could happen! It would always remain a mystery to him why the Mighty One should be gifted to this primitive race.

 With an impressive leap considering his size, Cuddlebug landed on the bed and crept towards the still figure. Long had his people watched hospitals all over the galaxy for the opportunity that might now lie before him. Silently, he pulled out the sensitive instrument that would tell him what he needed to know.

   Sleepily, Philip J. Fry wrinkled his nose. Something tickled. Based on past experiences, it was probably Yancy. At least his hand wasn't dipped into warm water. There was suddenly a weight on his chest and Fry’s eyes flew open. It was hard to say which of the two was more startled. In instinctive reaction, the 10 year old swatted the furry creature off him, yelling in terror and waking his mother.

   Before she had quite woken up, Nancy was by her son’s side, demanding to know if he was all right.

   “Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?!” the boy cried in rapid fire, trying to look past his worried mother for the strange creature that had startled him.

   “Where is what?” his mother asked anxiously.

   “The… teddy bear thing, with the daisy!” he gasped out. A doubtful look crossed Nancy Fry’s face and she forced Philip to lie back down, laying a gentle hand on his forehead to check for fever.

“You seem alright,” she commented for her own benefit before reassuring her son. “I didn’t see anything. You must have had a nightmare.”

   Under the bed, Cuddlebug sucked in the thin air quietly, listening intently as the guardian resettled the Mighty One. The Mighty One: that was what had set the Nibblonian to gasping. The strange juvenile of an ignoble race was indeed the Mighty One. The Nibblonian’s long wait was over.

   With sudden joy, Cuddlebug waited patiently for the guardian to sleep once more so he could bring hope back to his people.

P.S. I''m glad you enjoyed my randomly predictable explanation. 

[Reply #719 on:]

Huzzah another update! Great work Layla, although this update was pretty short it still managed to beas good as the rest of the story. I really enjoyed reading this. Keep up the wonderful work, the story's coming along great. I can't wait for the next update.