"Handball?" (You really expected him to not get bored while ALL OF YOU were OOC? Please.)

Well, Randy was working again. For the most part, the break was amazing. While there was still some rather unfinished business between Randy and Bob (And Louis,) Travis had been well behaved. Stacy and come and gone, his birthday was a good one (Foreshadowing, so you people can't fuck it up. Mhm.), and overall he was happy.

Happy Orton children are adventurous children.

So, he was planning to go to Cody's room, but he wasn't there. He heard noises, like people, but no one came to the door. He shrugged, and went farther down to Joe and Aiden's room.

"Gone...to Canada?" Well, that was the note that was on the door (Got that message OOC. They're planning something,). He didn't know where that was exactly, so he left it alone. Maybe he could walk there? Well, no. He didn't know where it was. But he did know where Ted's place was. And while Ted's apartment was pretty much always vacant since he went to stay with that lady most of the time now, he already knew he wasn't there, but tried anyway. Nothing.

He knew where Mac's house was, he had walked there before (*Smirking*), but he didn't feel like it too much today. Plus, it was cloudy outside, which meant it was more than likely going to rain, and he didn't want to get wet. Then his Dad would of KNOWN he was outside, and Randy getting all mad was something he just couldn't deal with.

Everyone was doing their own thing, so why not him? He avoided the front where the mean people worked, but he did go to the big gym in the back. People were playing handball.

"Handball?"

"Just watch, kid." Some man said. And he did. They were at the window and !!! They were throwing the ball at the window! The hell! It was bouncing all over the place, scared him a little, but it also grew on him. So now, instead of continuing on to the pool, or back to Maria's place, he was here, at a window. Jumping back every time the ball connected with the window. He'd sneak in and play in a second.

Randy and Travis had spent a lot of time together over the break. So much so that they'd come to some sort of routine, got comfortable with each other. Caught up with each other, although there's no way anybody could ever make up for 8 years of lost time.

Saying 8 because he's a new 9 and he's still adjusting to having an 8 year old kid, much less a 9 year old one.

Now, rules had been set down. Loose ones, pretty much one-syllable word rules. Not because Travis couldn't handle more than one syllable..it was Randy who preferred it that way. lol

"You don't go out 'less I know first."

"You go to bed when I tell you to."

"You behave, or else." Ok, this is the exception to the monosyllables. Behave is 2 syllables. Don't get technical. Point's made that Randy's not cryptic in his expectations.

This "You don't go out 'less I know first" has been the most troublesome. Had gotten Travis a trip to his room a couple times, had also got him a trip over the paternal lap on an occasion. So to go in his son's room and see him not -there-, well...

Yeah. Pissed.

The front desk had been given something of a break since Randy had been home, what with Travis getting parental supervision. Don't get anybody wrong..this building was full of 'rasslers, but there's nothing quite like parental supervision.

Randy was almost weaned off the sleeping pills, but after taking them for so many years, he still, when he can sleep, sleeps pretty hard and that's allowed Trav to go undetected here and there.

Not finding Travis and yelling "TRAVIS KEITH ORTON" more than a few times had the vein in the side of his head by his temple real prominent, and the front desk that had been on break had fielded a phonecall. Security cameras showed where Travis was, and Randy was informed.

"Am on my way."

"You do realize, Mr. Orton, that children under the age of 16 shouldn't be in there without adult supervision."

"I didn't know that."

"It's clearly posted," the desk clerk said, "and technically that's a vio--"

Randy cut him off verbally."...violation of my lease. I KNOW, ok? Look. I'm still getting used to being a dad, you want to evict me? Fuckin' go ahead," he said, exasperated.

The desk clerk found himself holding a dead phone. Randy had hung up. There's a bit of gossip. "Getting used to being a dad"...they'd been under the impression that Randy had been a weekend father. So now, of course, the day and night shift will gossip.

Randy took the stairs down and in no time, was in the gym.

"TRAVIS."

His deep voice, yelling like that, echoed through the gym, over the sounds of what goes on in a gym. All eyes went to Randy. His arms were folded and he was none too pleased.

Well, he wasn't even doing anything. Just watching. Of course, the whole wandering off thing was something that he couldn't help, but so what? He was a stern kid. A tough kid, at that. He handled Kevin Nash like a pro, if you don't remember.

Not only that, but he never went outside. He was around people. Older, friendly people, never other kids. And he was in the gym, a place Randy himself had went to before. And Cody. And Ted when he was here. So it was someone familiar. Wasn't like he was walking up the street to the McDonald's with other kids for happy meals. Not that he's done that before or anything, he's just saying.

Besides, he'd seen Randy wince a few times, and be grumpy because he had worked and was tired. He just didn't want to bother him. He didn't go "out" like Randy said. In his head, "Out" was like "Outside", and he was not outside. He was inside the building still, like he said.

So why exactly is Randy in here screaming, and making everyone stop and look at him. And an even better question, why is Travis's knees shaking. He didn't do anything wrong. This was not right. He's about to not be nice, Travis already knew. He had the face and everything.

He was nervous to go over to him, but he didn't want to get spanked down here in front of everyone or something. So he just slowly walked over, and the fear was generally written in his face. He'd learn not to blatantly disobey, unless it was completely necessary, but this was not it. This was just going to the jump. He'd understand. Travis wouldn't give him any other choice.

He saw the fear he put into his kid. The look on his face and the slight knock of the knees told him. Randy shook his head and strided over, not going to embarrass him further publicly, just take him upstairs and straighten this out.

And surprise, straighten this out is by words. He didn't want to turn Travis into Mini-Randy at that age, when Bob would come home. But that didn't mean that this was going to be all hearts and roses or whatever the fuck.

No. He gave Travis the silent treatment, after taking him by the upper arm and more or less frog-marching him out of the gym, and to the elevator. The ride up to the apartment, Randy didn't make a sound. The doors opened, and he used his free hand to unlock the door with his key. He hadn't let go of Trav's arm, and would not do so until he frog-marched him to the couch.

Sat him on it, and stood, with his arms folded over his broad chest.

"I'm not tellin' you again, Travis Keith," Randy began in a quiet, yet strict tone, "that when I don't know where you are, that's dangerous. 'Cause for all I know, somebody stole you. If I have to have this conversation with you again, it's not gonna be my words to your ears talking. It'll be my hand to your backside." Randy made the open handed gesture to emphasize, and stayed put with his captive audience on the couch.

"Now, this ain't like when you lived with your mother, where you open the door and you got a yard to play in, and shit like that. And I'm sorry for that, that it ain't our own house. It's an apartment in a big building. And while, sure, there's shit to do here, you Do. NOT. Go. By. Yourself. Out. Of. This. Apartment....EVER."

He could see Travis was still scared. Could've been the hand motion he'd used as a visual aide, but hopefully, he'd made himself clear.

"I don't take my sleepin' pills anymore," he said quietly, and came to sit next to his son on the couch, demeanor changing from pissed off to willing to listen, willing to communicate. The demeanor shift was subtle, but enough that Travis would know he was not about to get smacked when Randy sat beside him. He'd just sat, got comfortable next to him, his right leg touching Travis' left one. "So it won't take much to wake me up and say 'hey Dad, can we go to the pool' or somethin', 'cause the answer will be yes, long as the weather's good and long as it's -we- and not -you- -by- -yourself-."

Rumpled his hair and hoped he'd stop shaking. Living in terror isn't how Randy wants to have his kid feel. Now, terror when justified? Sure. Should Trav have been terrified downstairs? Yeah. That's healthy fear. A good father will put the fear of God into a kid, is Randy's belief, but 24/7 fear is not the way to go. Just the sort of 'you better think twice' fear will do.

Being frog-marched isn't exactly the best indication of saying that "Everything was going to be okay, and they wasn't going to be any physical...parenting", so the fact that he was whimpering had better be expected. He didn't refuse, in hopes of just being forgiven by some sudden stroke of niceness. Or maybe a building blackout like that one time during a storm, or better yet, maybe Randy suddenly having to run off to work. Anything but that apartment.

And then he turned on the quiet waterworks, in hopes of this at least getting some words. You don't be quiet to kids, that's not nice at all. That's...evil. War tactics of Satan. He was regretting walking out of his room this morning.

Next thing he knew, he was on the couch getting the Riot Act. And while it was much easier to handle than literally being handled, Randy's voice was still stern enough, and loud enough, to convince him it was worse after this. And he had added in the middle name? Yeah, trouble. Of course, now EVERY legit excuse was running through his head to leave. Going to Cody's. Going to Maria's. Going to ask someone if they had seen Randy. He couldn't help it.

The obvious signs of fear changed down to the more relaxed, usual ones once Randy's voice died down. He stayed silent, and was reduced to just nodding, and hung his head. Looking for pity? Yes, yes he is.

He did the usual head nudge, and left his head on Randy's arm, and sniffled. It wasn't so much intentional as it was "This worked on Stacy, and REALLY works on him, so it's becoming habit" sort of thing.

"Sorry." He muttered.

"S'okay," was what he responded with, and even threw in a gentle tickle to his kid's ribcage.

See, sometimes we can talk. But you do that shit again? You just leave and he thinks you've been abducted and shit? Yeah. No more talking. Might be introduced to the Bob Orton School of Parenting at that point.

Stop trying to find ways to hit me! I already apologized! You're being mean!

*Will tell Bob to beat YOU*

GO TO BED.

NO.

:: Drags you out of this thread to beat you ::

:: Kicks you away and runs!::

:: Growls, and DRAGS out of the thread, slamming the door shut behind us :: Now you did it.

Nooooo!

:: Did not do anything! ::

You're being douchey. *Learned from Ted*

Do you see what time it is, child? :: POINTED at the clock. Pointed like Sin fucking Cara. ::

As for Ted, you don't repeat shit like that that he says, understand?

:: Smirks and thinks Ted's got lots of learning to do. And is considering slipping into the NSS/NSW when Travis is asleep to hit something else. lol ::

No, I don't see it. Because I'm not looking. Hmph.

And you don't know me. Moooooove!

:: Pre-Tantrum state of mind ::