Goody Two Shoes

Part Three

"Ooow! Very much Ow! In fact, it's also Ouch!" Dexter moaned through the haze of pain. Great, now he had probably broken his face bone. Wait... Is there even a face bone?

"Oh Primus, are you alright?" Dexter groaned and curled into a fetal position. A jutting piece had rammed his poor tenders. They hurt so bad!!!

" My... Precious parts..." Dexter wheezed. He blacked out, succumbing to the aching pain. Man, it hurt so bad, the devil probably winced in sympathy.

It was really bright. Shielding his poor eyes, Dexter groaned and rolled over. He wanted to go to sleep again! It was so soothing...

"Wake up! You've been asleep for hours now. You've got concussion and a broken nose. Oh, and your clothes are over there." Dexter stared at the Medic, before realising he was naked. A horrified squeak exited him, and he pulled the covers to his chin.

"Uh, could you look away? This is embarrassing." The doctor raised an eyebrow. Dexter made a turning motion with his finger. He grabbed his clothes and dressed in moments. Sliding all his wristbands on, he pulled his spare cap from his pocket. Putting it on, he sighed in relief.

"I need to know your name, and who to contact to tell them why you're not home." The doctor opened the door of his medbay, and gestured for Dexter to follow him.

"Dexter is the name, skating and mechanics are the game! And, uh, what's the time?" The doctor pointed to a clock. Nine pm... He had two hours. Good.

"Cool. So, Dr. R Atchet. Hey, can I call you Hatchet? No? Cool." Dr. Atchet snorted, and led him to a military hangar. Dexter gaped at the cars before him.

"I must have died, cause all I see are angels. Metallic, chrome angels. Is this a Camaro I see before me?" Shakespeare was only fit for heaven. Sweet lord, that was the same GMC TopKick as before! And the same Eighteen wheeler.

"Dexter?" Said boy turned, and stared. Sam stood, confused.

"Sam. The military are crazy. They have a Camaro, that they probably use in battle. It is a waste of beautiful engineering." Dexter shook his head. The fourteen year old hated the thought of such beautiful machines peppered with bullet holes.

"Hey... How the heck am I going to get home? Oh crud, where are my skates? Oh damn, Martha is gonna make me grovel. And then work. Then grovel even more!!!" It was true. Martha hated him being even a minute late. Damn.

"I could give you a ride." A deep, shockingly awesome voice echoed through the room. A man dressed in red, blue and orange flames beckoned him. After grateful thank yous and a shove Dexter was on his way home. In the truck.

He was internally fanboying.

And his fave song was on. He quietly sang the chorus.

"If I could write a song to make you fall in love,
I would already have you under my arm!
I used up all my tricks, I hope you like this,
But you probably won't because you think
You're cooler than me!" With a thank you, Dexter ran inside.

He had a feeling he would see them again.

First three chapters. First hour an a half.

Damn Daniel! I'm good!