Original Fic
Title: Butterflies and Tornadoes
Author: Dark-Dreymer
Genre: Original Fic
Rating: PG-13, for some bad words
Summary: Some of you may be familiar with Jamie and Scott; in this AU of their lives they end up being sent to Military School, not a good idea.
Comments: Are appreciated.
Looking over the file the General wasn't surprised by their record; the twins in front of him looked like they were lacking discipline. The one on the right with the shorter darker hair was staring off into space with a vacant smile; the one of the left, who had the aura of being older even if it wasn't true, with the longer and curly hair was glaring at the General with such disdain he clearly had issues with authority.
“Well boys I'm afraid your little stunt has landed you both here for the next few years.” The General looked up from the file, “Now things'll be tough, but...”
“It wasn't a stunt.” The one with the glare cut across him, “We didn't start the fire for fun, we wanted to watch it burn.”
“You'll speak when you're spoken to cadet.”
“My name's not cadet, it's Jamie.” The boy folded his arms across his chest and his glare, if it was even possible, became more intense.
“I did not give you permission to speak.” The General roared and neither boy flinched, “...and at this academy we use last names; both of you will answer to 'Morgan' or 'Cadet'. Is that clear?”
“Not really, seems pretty black and white if you ask me.” It was the one with the sleek dark hair speaking this time; Scott if the file was accurate.
“You're both here because you are out of control and lack discipline; whether you like it or not you will learn respect here. The sooner you begin to appreciate the rules the smoother things will run.”
The two boys exchanged unimpressed looks, “We don't do well with rules.”
“Yeah, don't ya think our old school had a rule about no fires?”
Fingers twitching the General stood from his desk and grabbed both boys by their arms, half-dragging them down the corridor he placed them in the line for new recruits.
“What about our stuff?” Jamie demanded.
“It'll be placed in your barracks for after administration if finished.”
“You have no idea who you are dealing with.” Scott vowed watching the General leave.
*
“You will undergo the haircut along with the rest of the recruits.” The Sergeant was remarkably similar to the General, if a little more fond of spraying people's faces with spit when he spoke.
“It's a waste of time.” Jamie replied, not in the least intimidated.
“You may have got away with things like this before, but now you're under my command and I'm not about to let some pansy-boy who's afraid of getting his haircut make a mockery of me.”
“Yeah, you're good enough at that on your own.” Scott quipped, both boys smirked in an identical manner and Scott found himself forced into a chair; the buzz of the clippers accompanied the falling of clumps of hair. The boy watched his own soft brown eyes reflected in the mirror in the same dismissive manner he had adopted in the General's office.
“I'm telling you this is a waste of time.” Jamie repeated, pulling the band from his hair so the curly ponytail fell away, running a hand through the long strands one final time the boy waved a hand to indicate they should get on with it already.
By the time the twins had been shaved and kitted out in identically unimaginative uniforms they were completely impossible to tell apart. They sat side by side not affected by their embarrassments thus far in any visible way, throughout the welcome speech their eyes strayed upwards to watch a rather plain butterfly dancing around in the air above.
“This is your room.” The Sergeant opened a door into one of the many identical rooms and shoved Jamie inside, when Scott went to follow his brother into the room the Sergeant grabbed him however, “Not you; you're next door.” Turning to drag the boy to his assigned room the Sergeant was surprised to meet a resistance.
“We stay together.” Jamie had grabbed his brother's other arm and was pulling his twin back into the room.
“Not here you don't.” The Sergeant pulled at Scott again but the boy didn't budge an inch, despite their light frame the boys had some strength in them.
“You don't understand; we've never been apart.”
“Well then you'd best get used to it.” The Sergeant pulled at Scott again but the twins remained completely still; Jamie fixing yet another glare on the Sergeant and Scott staring off into space as he so often did, “How about this; if you can do a hundred press-ups without collapsing I'll let you have the room?”
“Easy.” Jamie stated fiercely, the Sergeant smirked to himself privately; the boy was far too proud and stubborn for his own good.
“Good luck.” When the Sergeant let go of Scott's arm he took both his brother's hands in his own and clasped them tightly for a second.
“Don't need it.” Jamie winked and dropped to the floor, he achieved the hundred press-up target without breaking a sweat and stood up triumphantly; “You can go now, sir.” The Sergeant ground his teeth slightly as he left the room; but if they were tougher than they looked they might still have some potential.
*
“Hey Jamie...” Some point late at night Scott leaned over the edge of the top bunk to address his twin, “How long are we gonna stay here?”
“There's too much order here, I want to cause some chaos before we leave.” Jamie mumbled in reply, shifting into a slightly more comfortable position.
“Gotcha.” Scott grinned in the darkness and returned to his own bed.
*
“How the...?” The General cut off his curse as he glared at the twins.
“I told them it was pointless.” Jamie ran a hand through the curls of his freshly grown ponytail.
“Where did you get dye?” The General demanded, leaving the hair alone for now, for both their new uniforms were swirled with a variety of colors.
“We made it.” Scott giggled slightly into his hand as he spoke.
“Out of what?” The General demanded, “Your bags were searched when you arrived and there was definitely nothing that could be used to make dye.” Both boys remained silent.
*
After fresh haircuts and a new uniform for each of them the twins were dragged out onto the assault course.
“You climb the wall, go down the ropes on the other side, crawl under the net, across the monkey bars, up the cargo net and then down the zip-line to the finish. Think you can handle that?” The Sergeant instructed them as they looked up at the forty foot wall which their fellow cadets were struggling their way up with the aid of various helpful footholds built into the surface.
“Yeah, I think we can handle this.” Jamie turned to his brother and the two clasped hands as they had done the day before in their room; from this angle the Sergeant could see a tattoo on each boy's hand so that when the hands were pressed together the shape of a butterfly was produced.
“A butterfly flaps it's wings.” Each boy intoned, before breaking away and making a charge for the wall.
The senior students at the academy had already made their first run of the assault course for the year and were now watching the fresh cadets struggle for amusement; the majority were jeering as the twins made their dash for the wall but all their laughing cut short when each boy crouched low at the very bottom of the wall and jumped the forty feet to the top of the wall, landing on the narrow platform at the top without so much as a wobble. The shock continued as each boy stepped off the edge of the platform in unison, landing uninjured in the mud and charged at the net, scrambling under the net without hesitation.
“How are they doing that?” The question was asked to almost every person watching but no-one could answer, just watch as the twins sped down the zip-line using their hands.
“How'd we do?” Jamie asked as they crossed the finish line.
“27 seconds.” The Sergeant replied as the stopwatch ground to a halt, after that he just stared slack-jawed at the boys.
*
“Everyone's looking.” Scott whispered as the two boys picked through the mush on their lunch tray.
“Good.” Jamie grinned standing up and reaching out to take his brother's hands, “Just follow my lead.”
“What are they doing?” Rumors about the twins had been flying across the entire academy ever since they had completed the assault course, now everyone was fixing their gaze on the twins as they joined hands and the words the Sergeant remembered from earlier echoed across the canteen even though they were whispered, 'A butterfly flaps it's wings.' When the boys broke away they both held on with one hand, the loose hand was alight with orange flame that quickly heated to blue intensity, before anyone could even scream the canteen had caught fire.
Every person in the canteen fled and as the boys left the blazing building and set about launching bright blue projectiles at every other building in the academy ground there was utter chaos.
“What's going on?” The General came flying out of his office in a complete state of panic, he took in the sight of the twins half-aflame and jumped back in fright.
“We told you.” Jamie smirked.
“You don't know who you're dealing with.” Scott finished.
“You bastards!” Jamie turned in time to see the Sergeant launch himself at them, but not in time to stop the man's progress; the bulky man sent him flying and his connection to Scott was broken, the flame in their hands died instantly, “I figured out your little trick, you need to join hands to use any of that weird shit, but if I break the connection...”
“Get off him!” Scott pounded at the Sergeant's face and neck, kicking him in the stomach as well, “Get off, hey!” As the General dragged Scott away he cried out in alarm.
“Wait!” Jamie cried out in alarm as his brother was dragged further away, “Don't separate us.”
“We've never been apart.” Scott added, crying desperately and clawing against the man holding him.
The Sergeant was surprised when Jamie stopped squirming and cried out in complete agony, holding his left hand tight against his breast he tried to stop the flow of blood that was gushing from the tattoo on his hand. Fifty or so feet away Scott was in a similar state, the two men let their captives go but the twins simply knelt on the ground holding their wounded hands, the butterfly tattoo now an open wound.
“What the Hell?” The General watched in astonishment; as each drop of blood from the twin's wounds hit the ground it morphed into a black and red butterfly and before long there was a swarm of the insects fluttering around them.
“A butterfly flaps it's wings...” The Sergeant croaked in sudden realization.
“...and there's a tornado in Texas.” Jamie finished the quote with his signature glare. Before either man could react the mass of butterflies swooped down and circled them both, forming a tornado of black and red that grew and grew until it enveloped the entire academy, tearing it to splinters.
Through the storm the twins crawled towards one another, touching hands and sealing their wounds. In seconds the tornado turned to blood and the remaining ruins were drenched with boiling red plasma.
“What now?” Lying in the dirt Scott rested his head on his brother's chest.
“We'll be okay now.” Was Jamie's only reply.