The Return

Rolling a cigarette (because he hated normal ones), Dave walks up to the building he worked at for those intense few years. The years that mattered. The years that the family existed, when the ideas flowed freely and the feeling that the 'voice' was being heard. The place where the ideas were born and the few thousands that listened did so, feeling fresh and reborn for everything that rolled out of this office.

Dave looks up and down at the building. Hasn't been here for so long. But it seems, no-one else has either.

Dave's work permit finished and he returned to England. Slowly his obsession with alcohol and withdrawal into himself... his work deteriorated and Greg was forced to use old pieces. The other contributors slowly stopped writing. Dave stopped.

Libby returned to Australia. And when she did, so did all the contact and work. Much conflict, much pain and fighting. The family declined.

Mike and Jason drifted finding new interests. AU didn't pay an awful lot and it was understandable that they'd go somewhen.

That left the original two. Greg and Kat. Dave didn't know what had really happened, but after so long and many years....what had seemed like the inevitable union just didn't seem to happen. One minute Kat was there and the next, she was gone.

Greg, the 'fearless leader' was the last. He held on, striving to be strong and maintain the legacy of AuPublishing. Anarchy Unlimited and Chaos Theory.

However, Even Greg, as strong as he was, without the family he loved for so long began to falter. The 'office' was finally closed. AU was closed. It still existed in cyberspace, but new work had ceased. This pissed Greg off, but with no more warriors for the cause, continuing was too hard. The family was gone.

Dave lit the cigarette and made his way to the door. He still had a copy of the key. Greg didn't know this, after all, this was Gregs property that he hadn't lived in for a few years...he'd probably be pissed off, but Dave didn't care. It was time.

Sliding back the doors to the elevator, Dave pressed the old familiar buttons to take him to the top. It still all worked fine.

Dave considered what Greg would think. Calling him out in the middle of the night. Ranting off that it was 'time'. That they'd spent 'Too long in the shadows' and it was 'time to move forward, and fuck the rest'. Dave had taken the first plane to New Jersey and taken a taxi to here.

Opening the doors, he walked into the old office. It hadn't changed. Okay, the PC's were gone, but there was dust marks, coffee stains and waste paper where they were. It smelled musty here, but Dave was convinced he could still smell the old coffee.

He walked over toward his old desk. Nothing there now, except his old chair and some old copy of 'new scientist'.. He noticed some of Mikes old Star Wars figures and a copy of 'Live circuit' on Jasons desk with a coffee stain on it.

Dave looked around. He could almost see everyone there and hear the buzz of the office. Slumping down in his old chair, he reached toward the drawer at his old desk. Pulling it out he found, as he had hoped was a picture of the old team. Taken several years ago, it was post-Jasons gig at Tinys. All six of them there; Mike, Libs, Himself and Greg in big perm wigs, Kat with Jason at the front. He smiled and ran his finger over them all. All were in a riotous 'we rock' pose.

Under the photo was a manuscript. A copy of the first ever printed copy of 'Anarchy Unlimited'. With it was a copy of the only ever copy of 'Oblivion'.

Dave pulled them out and blew down at his desk, clearing the dust. He placed them down. He read. And he read.

Maybe what he used to say was obnoxious, arrogant or maybe naive. But at least he used to say something. They ALL used to say something. What did he say now? Nothing. His thoughts drifted back to Greg. Would he come?

Dave jumped up, rushing to his former partners desk. He quickly swiped it with his hand, removing the dust and old papers. He banged the chair removing the dust. Quickly he pulled Gregs old desk over toward his own in a new position that put them opposite each other. He neatly piled the old papers and then pulled a manuscript from his inside pocket and neatly placed it down on Gregs new desk.

Greg hadn't particularly wanted to come back here. He moved operations for AU to his own flat a long time ago. He couldn't warrant the office anymore. Plus it was big...and empty. His contact with Dave had been sparce for a few years. He had restarted AU on his own a few months earlier and and then one night a flurry of emails from Dave talking about a 'restart'. 'What the F?' was Gregs original thought. Although a part of him was interested.

Walking over toward his old desk, no noted it had been moved and there was something on that old desk.

A voice. A generally strange English accent that he associated with Samwise Gangee from Lord of the Rings. "Fuck me. So, you sorry ass piece of shit you made it."

And there he was. Dave. Old mister Atropos. Sitting at his desk. Although he looked like he'd had one too many Big Macs and beers. Greg looked him up and down and gawped.

"Son of a bitch". Greg murmurs. The two walk up to each other. "You look like shit" Greg offers.

"I moved your desk. I figure you need to be closer to me now man." Dave extends his arm to show.

"Fuck you. Get it yourself. Although I have it on good authority that there's some cold beer in the vacinity........ and by the way, where's my new fucking PC?"

She stood at the verge of the abyss.. it was now or never. She kept the
memories away, refusing to think how they had been back then. There was
no point. Life had moved on. no, had carried them, all in different
directions.. the bond stretched to its limits. For some it had probably
broken. Too much time .too much fear. but it was bearable, once you knew
how to live with it.

She walked casually toward them, her Doc Martens crunching the debris
and general shit laying all over the place, grinning in preparation for
the moment they both got their heads out of their arses long enough to
notice she was there. She had changed. it couldn't be prevented. She
was closed off. not exactly hard, but unless you held the key there was
no fucking way in hell you were going to know what made her tick. But
she didn't mind. it was more efficient this way. Now at 40, her looks
had changed too. Her mother had told her she had lost her softness, as
if her femininity had been fighting the drugs, and had lost. If this
was the sacrifice she had paid for living. so be it. Now she looked
slicker.. a little thinner. her hair short cropped and dark, her wardrobe
completely black. and always the Docs and her black horn rimmed glasses.
She was a walking "Enter At Own Risk" sign.

"Well, I see nothing has changed too much. this place still looks like a
shit heap"

Greg, got up and moved toward her, but she stepped back. smiling at them
both.

"You called, I'm here. so what's up, Mate? "

"Before I tell you.. get me coffee, Lib?"

"Fuck you, Ferris. and btw if Dave's getting a new machine. I'm down for a
laptop!"

She pauses outside the brick entrance, hand resting lightly on the tarnished doorknob. Slowly her eyes travel upward.. finally resting on the copper colored A on the front of the building.

The setting sun surrounding it like a 'circle'.. She softly smiles. Gently turning the knob. A pause.. The door widens slightly then stops. Pushing with her hip and a quick flick of her wrist and it opens wider. Shaking her head ruefully. Hearing Gregs voice " It adds character angel"... Starting up the stairs, so many thoughts. Whispers of past conversations.." Fuck it Greg "..

The sweet tones of a spanish guitar.. That husky deep throated Aussie laughter... All swirling around her. She stands at the top of the stairs. The door is open... voices from the past.. the Protector.. The Seeker . Soon the Wisdom will come... Taking a deep breath the Giver sets her foot on yet another path.. for she knows in her heart of hearts a new journey is about to begin....