


The Penalty Box

by Rowena Zahnrei



Category: Zathura
Genre: Family, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-17
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2013-08-03 00:35:24
Rating: K+
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,237
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8710130/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/526713/Rowena-Zahnrei
Summary: As punishment for selfishly misusing the powers of the supernatural board game Zathura, ten-year-old Walter must spend fifteen years trapped in the Game Masters' Penalty Box. Can Walter convince the Game Masters he's changed enough to earn a chance to repeat his turn and undo his malicious crime?





	1. Chapter I

Disclaimer: I do not own _Zathura_ or any of its characters. I watched it one night when I was sick with a migraine and couldn't sleep. My hyperactive imagination then spawned the Game Masters, Zöe, and the Penalty Box, and this story only exists because they kept badgering and poking and interrupting my work until I'd plotted out this story. Now that it's plotted, I have to finish it. Because I'm compulsive that way. Grrr... I don't know how long it'll take, but I hope you enjoy my story! :)

The title of this story was inspired by the ST:TNG episode "Hide and Q," in which the powerful entity Q sticks Security Officer Tasha Yar in a "Penalty Box" for refusing to compete in his "game."

**The Penalty Box**

By Rowena Zahnrei

**Chapter I**

Sound waves from the laser blasts reverberated silently through the vastness of space, audible only within the contained atmosphere of the rambling wooden house. The Zorgon battleship made another pass, firing its laser cannons into the upper floor bedrooms, which exploded in a rush of flame and escaped air.

"They're trying to kill us!" Walter shouted, frantically turning the silver key to reset the counter on the clockwork game that sat between him and his younger brother, Danny. "We're going to get blown up by aliens, and it's all your fault!"

"How is it my fault?" Danny shrieked, joining Walter under the kitchen table as plaster hailed down from the ceiling.

"You're the one who spun those Zorgon monsters!" Walter yelled over the blasts and splintering, rending sounds overhead. "You're the one who started playing this stupid game in the first place! If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

The red 'Go' button popped out and Walter pressed it, setting the game counter spinning even as a fresh explosion sent the boys sliding across the ravaged floor. They slammed against the brick oven with a grunt, and Walter grabbed for the game.

"Nine!" he exclaimed as a little blue starship started moving across the metal board with a grinding of clockwork gears. After nine spaces, it stopped and a game card popped out of a slot.

"Hey, it's gold," Walter said, and snatched it. "I bet that means I'm winning!"

"So what?" Danny said. "You always win at everything!"

"Only when you don't wreck the game by cheating!"

"I don't cheat!" Danny screamed.

"You do so!" Walter retorted, rising to his knees to ride out another house-rattling blast. "You cheat at everything, Danny. You're such a dumb baby, you could never beat me if you played fair!"

"I'm not dumb, and I'm not a baby!" Danny cried.

"You're a baby!" Walter screamed back. "A whiny, selfish little baby who cheats and cries and wrecks everything you touch!"

"That's not true!"

"It is true!" Walter roared, shielding his eyes with his hand as a cold white light started pooling into the ruined kitchen. "Just look around! Your stupid game trashed Dad's house!"

"That's not my fault!" Danny cried. "I didn't know the game would send us to space!"

Walter ignored him, too angry to notice or care that the mysterious light was getting steadily brighter.

"It is too your fault! Everything's your fault! You wrecked this whole family! Mom and Dad got along fine before they had you. They only fought a little bit. But after you were born, they fought all the time, always blaming each other for you fussing and crying. And then they got divorced and it's all your fault! I hate you! I wish you'd never been born!"

The blinding light blanked out the kitchen, and Walter cringed away from it. When it passed a moment later, Danny was gone.

"Danny!" Walter shouted. "Danny, get back here and take your turn! We have to finish this stupid game before the Zorgons destroy the whole house! Danny!"

There was no answer. Walter sighed and slammed his back against the chipped and peeling wall. Only then did he think to look at his golden card.

"Shooting Star," he read. "Make a wish as it passes."

A strange chill washed over him, and he recalled the blinding light. He'd half-assumed it was the Zorgon ship, but what if…

Walter ran from the kitchen, his heart pounding in something approaching panic. He stared around the chewed up living room, his Dad's ruined office. Broken toys, toppled furniture, and dusty bits of wall and ceiling littered the floor, but Walter saw no sign of Danny.

"Danny? Danny, answer me! Danny, if you're hiding somewhere, I swear…"

The stairs were broken and splintered, but Walter managed to climb to the upper floor. He burst into the room he and Danny shared. The outer wall and window were gone, obliterated by Zorgon laser blasts, but Walter barely noticed. He tore the sheets and blankets off the beds, pulled the clothes and games out of the closets, all the time beating back a horrible certainty he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge.

"Danny, I know you're here somewhere," he shouted. "You better come out now, because if I have to come find you I promise you'll regret it!"

Getting no response, Walter ran to his big sister Lisa's room. A previous spin had trapped the teenager in cryonic sleep, but Walter was too panicked to think.

"Lisa," he cried, pulling at his sister's frozen arm. "Lisa, you have to wake up! Danny's gone and…and… Lisa, I think I did something terrible. Please, Lisa, I need your help! Lisa!"

The house shook violently and dust rained down, skittering across Lisa's floor. Walter ran to the window.

"Zorgons…" he gasped, and scrambled back down the crumbling stairs to the kitchen.

The game was half-buried under a clump of rubble and kitchen debris. Walter dug it out and slammed it on what was left of the kitchen table, turning and turning the silver key.

"Come on," he urged as more Zorgon blasts slammed into the house. "Come on. Just a few more spaces and I win the game. Danny will be back, Lisa will be unfrozen, and this whole stupid nightmare will be over!"

The key kept turning, feeling disturbingly loose in its housing. Desperate to roll, to get another card, another wish, Walter pushed the red 'Go' button, jabbing at it again and again and again, but it didn't budge. Zathura was a two player game, and Walter already had his turn.

Walter roared and hurled the game across the room.

"No!" he shrieked, his eyes stinging with frightened tears as the Zorgon attack grew more intense, tearing huge chunks from the beleaguered house. Soon the place would be little more than sticks and splinters, and Walter would find himself exposed to the airless vacuum of space.

"Please, I can't die here," he sobbed, then yelped in terror as the ceiling collapsed all together, bringing with it a rain of rugs, books, and furniture from the room upstairs. He huddled as close to the wall as he could and shouted into the star-studded blackness.

"I didn't mean to make that wish. I'm sorry. Danny, I'm so sorry!"

The wall behind him blew out and Walter was yanked violently backwards, the kitchen, house, even the Zorgon ship fading to impossibly distant specks as the mouth of a wormhole opened wide to swallow him whole.

_To Be Continued..._


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter II**

Walter woke up in a drab, colorless dormitory – a long, narrow room lined on both sides with drab, colorless beds. A double row of florescent lights cast a dim glow from the ceiling, creating more shadows than light.

"Look, the new kid's awake," someone said, a young boy by the sound of it.

Walter struggled to sit up. Someone had tucked his sheets so tightly around him he had to fight to kick them off. He wasn't wearing his normal clothes. Instead, he had on black work boots and a dingy beige coverall with a strange, round insignia on the sleeve.

"What the—where am I?" he said, squinting as four kids clustered around his bed. They ranged in height, age, skin tone, and gender, but they all wore the same dingy coveralls and black work boots.

"What's your name, new kid?"

"Walter," he said.

"Welcome to the Penalty Box, Walter," said a girl of about Walter's age who wore her brown hair in two short pigtails.

"What do you mean, Penalty Box?" Walter said, but the girl didn't seem to hear him.

"Hey, what's this?" she said, reaching over his head to grab something from a drab, colorless shelf he hadn't noticed.

"Eew, it's so cold!" she said, and quickly handed the object to the little boy next to her.

"Looks like a girl," the boy said, and looked at Walter. "Why do you have a frozen girl on your shelf? Is that why you're in the Penalty Box?"

"What? No! Give me that!" Walter said, and grabbed the tiny figure. "Oh my God… It's Lisa!"

"Who's Lisa?" a blonde girl asked.

"My sister," Walter said, and carefully balanced the frozen 'statue' on the shelf. "The game froze her, not me."

"Then what did you do to end up here?" asked a dark skinned boy.

"I don't know, OK?" Walter snapped. "I don't even know where 'here' is!"

"We told you," said the blonde girl, who looked to be about five years old. "We're in the Penalty Box. We all tried to cheat at Zathura."

"Not all of us, Emily," said the little boy. "There's lots of ways for players to get penalties."

"Like what?" Walter asked.

"Like refusing to play and leaving your partner alone with the Zorgons," the boy said, and glanced at the girl with pigtails. "That's what Zöe did. And now her sister's in stasis because the Fleet had to zoom in and rescue her!"

"Shut up, Bryan!" Zöe said. "At least I didn't stomp the game to pieces like you and your sister."

"Half-sister," Bryan corrected, glaring at Emily.

"Ethan cheated," Emily said, and pointed to the dark-skinned boy. "He tried to unscrew the bottom and get all the cards out of the game at once!"

Ethan shrugged. "I just wanted to see how it worked."

"Yeah, right," Zöe said and turned to Walter. "So, what about you?"

Walter scowled.

"I don't want to talk about it," he said.

"Ah, we've got a mopey one," Zöe said. "So, what'd you get? Five years? Six?"

"What do you mean?" Walter asked.

"Zöe's got eight," Emily volunteered. "'Cause that's the same age as her sister, who she endangered her life of when she left her alone with the Zorgons."

Zöe glared at Emily.

"OK, so I was a jerk," she said. "But I honestly didn't want to believe all this was real. I thought if I just locked myself in my room and closed my eyes I'd wake up at home and everything would be fine. Instead, I woke up in this stupid Penalty Box and my sister's stuck in stasis until I get out."

"But, at least you snapped out of it," Ethan said. "Some kids are in complete denial. They can't handle space life at all. They have to serve their time doing basic clean-up duty, and even then they think they're in some kind of weird dream. It's really creepy."

"So, wait," Walter said. "What are you telling me? Are you saying I'm going to have to stay here, in this Penalty Box, for years?"

"Depends on your crime," Bryan said. "Ethan got three years for willful cheating. But me and Emily only have one because we only broke the game because we were so scared of more monsters coming out."

"The Game Masters say their punishments are meant to give us all perspective and insight, so we know what we did and why we did it and why we shouldn't ever do it again," Ethan said. "The number of years you get depends on the amount of perspective and insight you need."

"Well, I know what I did was stupid. How can I tell how long I've got?"

"Check your dog tags," Zöe said, showing him two silvery tags attached to a thin chain around her neck. The number 8 was a deep imprint in the metal. "Your penalty number should be right under your name."

Walter felt beneath his collar and pulled out his own dog tags.

"So?" Bryan prompted. "What'd you get?"

Walter sank back to the bed, shaking his head with disbelief.

"No," he said. "No, this can't be right."

Bryan smirked. "Don't tell me you've got ten! He's got ten!"

"No," Walter said again, and stood up, his disorientation starting to coalesce into anger. "No, this isn't fair!"

Ethan climbed on the bed to peer over Walter's shoulder.

"Whoa!" he gasped. "Walter's got fifteen!"

"Fifteen!" the kids murmured, sharing shocked glances.

"Wow, I never knew a kid who got fifteen before," Zöe said. "Seriously, what did you do?"

Walter was too upset to listen.

"No, this is nuts!" he shouted. "It's crazy! I can't stay here for fifteen years! I have to get home!"

"No hope of that," Ethan said. "At least, not until your time's served. Can't finish the game 'till you serve your time. It's the rules."

"Yep, that's right!" Emily said. "Only when you serve your time will the Game Masters give you a chance for a do-over. If you can undo your error, you get to finish your game and go home!"

"And if you can't undo your error? What then?" Walter asked.

"Then you fail, and you become part of the game forever," Zöe said quietly. "That's what I've heard, anyway. No one who's served their time has ever come back here to tell us what happened."

"I heard that's where the raiders come from," Bryan said. "Kids who got kicked out of the game and were forced to grow up in space, all alone."

"That's not going to be me," Zöe said. "I'm joining the Fleet. You should too, Walter, after you're through with orientation. We could go do our training courses together!"

"Fleet?" Walter asked. "What Fleet?"

"The Fleet!" Ethan said. "It's a chance for us Penalty kids to prove to the Game Masters that we deserve a second chance at the game! It's especially good for long-timers like you and Zöe. You guys could become starship captains, or even admirals, and rescue other kids who get stranded in the game!"

"Hey," Walter said, digging into the pocket of his coveralls. "I'm already a captain. And a Fleet Admiral. Look – I got these cards when I was playing the game!"

He held out the game cards, but the kids just laughed.

"Those are just cards," Zöe said. "They don't mean anything unless you give them meaning yourself, by your actions and choices. But don't worry, Walter. They'll go through all that during your orientation. As for me, I want to be a pilot! That's where the real action is. Flying spaceships, outmaneuvering Zorgons and raiders and asteroids!"

"Yeah!" the kids cheered.

A buzzer sounded and the cheering stopped at once. The kids straightened and lined up by height, shortest to tallest.

"Come on, Walter," Emily said, pulling his hand. "Get it line!"

"What for?" Walter asked grumpily, taking his place just in front of Zöe, who, to his irritation, stood about an inch taller than him.

"We've got to meet up with all the other Penalty kids for lunch!" Bryan said.

"What if I don't want lunch?" Walter grumbled.

"Too bad. Let's go!" Zöe called out, and the kids marched from the room.

_To Be Continued..._


	3. Chapter III

**Chapter III**

Energy bolts rocked the narrow Fleet shuttle, nearly knocking Walter off his feet as he struggled to snap his rocket pack over his bulky white space suit.

"Hey, Commander!" he called to the cockpit. "You're supposed to _avoid_ the enemy missiles, not slam into them!"

"You want to take the wheel?" Zöe shouted back.

"Nah, you're doing great," Walter said, shuffling up behind her chair and planting a kiss on her glossy brown hair. "At this rate we might just make it out of here in several pieces."

"Hey, you," she teased. "No fraternization within the ranks. You know the rules."

"I also know it's your birthday," Walter said. "What do you say, after we help these kids, we take an early night and celebrate?"

"Yeah? And do what?"

"I've got some of that freeze-dried chocolate ice cream you like stashed away, and if we raid the 'Box kitchen we could have a picnic."

"You mean fold some paper flowers, crack open a squeeze-tube of cranberry juice…"

"Yeah. We can make it a real romantic date."

"And if we're caught?" she asked, taking quick evasive action to miss another enemy missile.

"Hey, we're both eighteen now," Walter said. "Back home, we'd be legal adults. Voting rights and everything."

"I'll think about it," Zöe teased. "But Walter, seriously, remember your last review. The Game Masters haven't been happy with your performance. They said you're brusque with the Players and you take too many unnecessary risks."

"Those Game Masters can kiss my ass. I have a perfect success record. That makes me the best Astronaut this dumb game's ever had."

"This game's about more than just beating Zorgons," Zöe said. "You might realize that if you weren't so angry all the time."

"Look, I have to right to be angry, OK?" Walter snapped. "We all do. It was never my idea to play this stupid game!"

"I know," Zöe said quietly. "It was your brother. Walter, I wish you would tell me what happened between you two. It might help if you talked to me."

"Zöe, come on, not now," Walter said. "We've got a mission to finish."

"Right. Bad timing," she said, and swerved the ship again. Walter lost his footing and slammed against the white, plastic wall.

"Ow! Hey!"

"Baby," Zöe said, and fixed her eyes on a long, low ranch house floating just ahead. "OK, we're almost there. The Zorgon ships have attached themselves to the house and begun boarding. If you're fast, you should be able to make it in and out before they get too far. Remember your training, follow standard procedure, and be _nice_ to the Players. Part of your job is to make _them_ feel safe."

Yeah, I got it," Walter said, and twisted his helmet into place. Climbing over to the airlock, he shot her a quick thumbs up.

"Later, babe."

"Just hurry up!" she said. "And Captain!"

He paused, half-in, half-out the airlock door.

"Be careful."

"You too," he said, and let the door slide closed behind him.

A moment later, the airlock depressurized and the hatch in the outer hull popped open. Activating his rocket pack, Walter shot across the empty space separating the little ship from the beleaguered house ahead.

"What a mess," he muttered to himself as he alighted on the splintered front porch. Meteors and energy bolts had punched holes in the roof and walls, and the wires to the porch light were exposed and sparking. As he rang the doorbell, a hulking Zorgon warship hoved into view, blocking out the light reflected off the ringed planet below.

"Hello!" he called out, knocking on the door. "Hello in there! Did one of you spin an Astronaut Rescue card?"

The scarred, scorched door opened a crack and the Astronaut pushed his way in. Two little girls pressed against the wall, their eyes wide with terror.

Walter took off his helmet, remembering to offer the girls a friendly smile.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Captain Walter of the Fleet spacecraft _Fritz_. Which one of you spun me?"

The older girl held out a rather crumpled game card.

"Rescued by Fleet Astronaut, Move Ahead Three Spaces," he read. "Good card."

The girl smiled.

"I'm Kelly," she said. "This is my sister Karen."

"Are you really going to save us from those Zor-things?" the younger girl asked.

"You bet, kid," Walter assured her. "You just do what I say and I'll have these Zorgons out of your hair in no time. How far are you guys from reaching Zathura?"

"I need twelve more spaces," Kelly said. "But Karen only needs ten."

"Then I suggest you two keep playing while I deal with the aliens, OK?"

"Yes sir," the girls chorused and ran back to the strange, clockwork board game Walter knew all too well.

While the girls were occupied, Walter dashed up and down the hall, turning off all lights and turning down the thermostat as far as it would go.

"How's it going, girls?" he asked as he rushed past.

"Kelly went back two spaces."

"Well, keep playing!" he said. "So far, it seems the Zorgons are just in the basement, but if they come up here I need you two to be ready. Do your parents have any fire extinguishers in the house?"

"Yeah, there's one in the kitchen," Kelly said. "Just through that door."

"Great," Walter said. "If it's one thing those Zorgons hate, it's cold. It's the heat that attracts them. Now, I turned down the heat in here, but if we're going to draw those monsters out, I'll need to—"

A rough clawing sound ripped through the basement door and the little girls shrieked.

"Zorgons!" they cried. "They're breaking through the door!"

"Grab the game and get in the kitchen, quick," Walter said, herding the panicked girls ahead of him. "Keep the lights off. Where's that fire extinguisher."

"Under the sink," Kelly said.

Walter found it quickly, then rooted around for a bottle of lighter fluid and some matches.

"What can we do?" Kelly asked.

"Just keep playing that game," Walter said. "The sooner you reach Zathura, the sooner you go home. I'll hold off the Zorgons for you."

"OK, Captain!"

"Be careful, Walter!" the smaller girl cried.

Walter gave them a quick salute, and strode back to the basement door, relieved to get away.

Zöe was right. Seeing the Players, watching them interact… It reminded him too much of his brother, Danny, of how things should have been between them. The guilt he felt was crippling; a distraction the teenager couldn't afford in a house full of Zorgons. Every day, every mission, it got harder to push back the resentment and the pain. Only his anger kept him fighting.

The Zorgons had nearly torn their way through the wood by this time. Their scaly green arms ripped chunks of door and doorframe away as easily as a child breaks a cookie.

Walter hefted the fire extinguisher and sprayed a freezing burst of CO2 at the massive lizards. The Zorgons howled in pain, but instead of backing off, they redoubled their attack on the door, bursting through in only three powerful kicks.

Walter sprayed them again, but the scaly monsters kept advancing, leaving Walter with no choice but to attack. He came at them with a roar, swinging the extinguisher like a club.

The first Zorgon went down, but the second grabbed the red canister and slammed it into Walter's face.

For a moment, Walter saw stars. His face exploded with a hot, searing pain, and he realized those monsters had broken his nose, and some of his teeth as well.

Walter spat out a mouthful of blood and grinned at the Zorgon boarding party.

"So, you guys want to play rough? I can do rough. You want heat? Try this!"

Walter grabbed a plush, wheeled foot rest from the living room and squirted lighter fluid all over it. Shooting the lumbering lizards a wicked, broken-toothed smile, he lit a match and set the foot rest on fire.

The Zorgons approached, attracted by the warmth and light, but Walter pulled open the front door and kicked the flaming mass out into space.

The Zorgons grunted and growled, but followed the foot rest as far as the porch. Walter slammed the front door and bolted it shut. He slid the couch down the hall and tipped it up to block the gaping hole that used to be the basement door. Then, he strode back to the kitchen.

"Oh, your face!" the little girls cried. "Oh, do you want a band-aid?"

"No, no, I'm OK," Walter assured them, heading for the sink to wash off some of the blood. "I got the Zorgons out of the house, for now. How are you girls doing?"

"Kelly was just about to spin!" Karen said. "Isn't this game exciting?"

"It is when you play it right," Walter said. "And you girls definitely seem to have the right attitude. I'll just grab my helmet. Why don't you go ahead and spin?"

"Would you like to swing on a star?" he heard Kelly read from her game card. "Move ahead four spaces."

"Kelly, you did it!" Karen cheered. "You won!"

"You mean we did it!" Kelly cried, grabbing her sister and spinning her in a triumphant, giggly circle. "We won! We won Zathura!"

A bitter anger filled Walter at the sight and he snapped his helmet into place.

"I knew you girls would make it through," he said. "Have a great life back in the real world."

"Bye Walter!" the girls said. "Thank you!"

And, just like that, they were gone. The house, the girls, the game…and the Zorgons. Just vanished. All that was left was Walter, floating in space.

Alone.

The radio in the Astronaut's helmet crackled and he heard his pilot's voice.

"Mission accomplished, hero," Zöe said. "Coming round to pick you up."

_To Be Continued..._


	4. Chapter IV

**Chapter IV**

The old wooden house loomed in front of him, familiar and yet so strange.

Walter hesitated at the door, thoughts and memories, hopes and fears spinning around and through him until he thought he might be sick right on the front steps.

"Pull it together, man," he muttered to himself. "You're a Fleet Admiral for Pete's sake. Go in there and do your duty. Bring them home."

The door opened and, for the first time in fifteen years, Walter stepped into his father's house. The place looked just like he remembered it – a lot of polished wood and empty space littered here and there with sports equipment and video games. He saw no sign of the Zorgons…or of Danny.

"Hello?" the Astronaut called out, removing his helmet and setting it on a nearby table. "Hello, Danny? Lisa?"

Walter strode from room to room, feeling an odd sense of vertigo as he looked down at the familiar spaces where he and his brother had played as children. The rooms looked so much smaller, the house so much less cavernous than he remembered. Especially the living room, where Walter found he could now reach the toys on the top shelf without even unbending his arm.

A chilling whisper tickled his ear, and Walter turned.

"Zathura."

The clockwork board game sat expectantly on the floor just behind the armchair. Walter crashed to his knees and turned the key, praying that this would be it, that the Game Masters would at last show him some mercy.

The key locked and the red 'Go' button popped out. Walter pressed it and waited. The counter spun and stopped at nine, the little blue space ship began to move. By the time he got the game card, Walter felt lightheaded. Only then did he remember to breathe.

"Gold…" he whispered, climbing to his feet and shuffling to the window. "Please…oh please, please…"

A pure, white light filled the blackness outside, and Walter gasped at the sight. As the comet passed, the weary Astronaut closed his eyes and breathed his heartfelt wish.

"Dude, you're coming to my party, yeah?"

The unfamiliar voice gave Walter a start and he spun from the window to see a stranger sprawled across his Dad's armchair, talking to someone on a small, flat screen. The stranger looked to be in his late teens or early twenties, with shaggy dark hair and about a day's growth of stubble on his narrow chin.

"I'm telling you, it's gonna be off the hook. Seriously, it's not every day a guy turns twenty-one."

Walter blinked.

"Twenty-one?"

"Dude, hold on. 'S my brother."

The young man fixed him with a sneer.

"You forgot, didn't you," he said.

"Forgot what?"

"That it's my birthday today?" the young man prompted, and hoisted himself off the chair. To Walter's surprise, the lanky stranger stood about three inches taller than him. "Never mind, man. I didn't want you there. Who needs some self-absorbed high-school gym teacher at a college party anyway?"

"High-school…?" Walter said, and looked down. He was wearing sneakers and a sweat suit emblazoned with a school logo. Grabbing the stranger's arm, he said, "Wait!"

The young man turned to face him, his dark eyes cold and blank. Walter stared at him, at the way his hair curled over his forehead, the almond shape of his eyes.

"Danny?"

"What?" the young man snapped. "Let me go!"

Walter gasped and stepped back, looking his brother up and down.

"Danny… It's you! You're…you're grown up…!"

"Oh, now you notice," he said, and turned away with a disgusted wave of his arm.

"Danny, no, stop!" Walter cried. "I want to talk with you!"

"What for?" the grown-up Danny sneered. "Look, Walter, you don't have to keep up with this fake 'big brother' act thing, pretending like you're all interested in my life and junk just because Dad's sick. You never cared before, and Dad and I don't need you now. Why don't you just go back to your life and your apartment and leave us alone."

"Dad's sick?"

Danny shook his head and headed up the stairs.

"You really are a tool, Walter," he called over his shoulder. "I'll see you around."

"Danny!" Walter shouted. "Danny, don't go like this. What about…what about Lisa? Where's Lisa?"

"Probably still in San Francisco. She moved there with her kids after her last divorce," Danny said, and turned to frown down at him over the upper floor railing. "Why are you asking, anyway? You care about Lisa even less than you care about me."

"Danny, you're wrong. You are so wrong. I care about you more than anything."

"Well, you sure have a warped way of showing it," the young man snapped. "I used to worship you, you know? I wanted to be just like you – popular at school, good at sports. But every time I tried to get near you, you pushed me away, told me I was no good, blamed me for everything bad in our lives. And I believed you, Walter. All the time I was growing up, I honestly thought I deserved your abuse. That I was some cursed, worthless weed nobody wanted. But it wasn't me that was cursed, Walter. It was you. You were my big brother. You were supposed to look out for me. But, you threw me away. The best thing you can do for my birthday is to get out of my life."

The bedroom door slammed, and Danny was gone, leaving Walter alone in a widening pool of horror. How could the Game Masters do this? How could they give him his second chance, only to send him back fifteen years too late to make things right?

Walter ran up the stairs, pounded on the door, screamed and shouted and sobbed for his brother to come out, to take back those terrible words.

"No," he cried. "No, it isn't fair. I'm not that person. I've changed, Danny. Please tell me I've changed…"

"Walter! Walter, wake up! You're dreaming again!"

Walter opened swollen, tear-crusted eyes to see Zöe's blurry face. She was shaking him, her expression a mask of worry.

"Zöe," Walter said huskily, sitting up so he could clear his throat. "Where am I?"

"Where do you think, you nut," she said and held out a handkerchief. "I could hear you yelling halfway to the bridge. Here, clean yourself up. You don't want the crew to see their Captain like this."

"Zöe, I had that same dream again," Walter said as he shuffled from his cot to the cramped little wash room that set the Captain's Quarters apart from the crew's shared facilities. "More like a nightmare. I made it back home, but everything was different. Dad was sick, Danny and Lisa were all grown up and…and we weren't a family anymore. I don't think we ever had been. And it was all my fault."

"Walter…"

"Danny hated me, Zöe. I saw that blank, cold look in his eyes. He couldn't stand to be in the same room with me."

Face washed, he shuffled back to the cot and Zöe turned his desk chair around so she could face him.

"You've been getting these nightmares a lot lately," she said quietly. "Almost every night. Is it because…"

"Because you're leaving?"

She looked at him and he sighed.

"I'm scared, Zöe. I know it isn't fair to you, but I can't help it. I don't know what I'll become without you. I get…I get so angry…"

"Then maybe it's time you let go of some of that anger, and told me what you did wrong," she said. "You can trust me, Walter. You know I won't judge you."

Walter stared into her warm, beautiful eyes and nodded.

"I..I made a wish," he confessed. "A cruel and angry wish. The game gave me this golden card, and I could have used it to bring us home, to end the game right there and then. But instead, I used its powers to do something…something I truly meant with all my heart. I wished my baby brother had never been born."

"I see," Zöe said, and Walter looked up at her, terrified that her eyes would have gone cold and blank, like Danny's in his nightmare. But, to his relief, they were still warm, if a little concerned.

"Your parents didn't have a lot of time for you, did they," she said. "Always absorbed in their own problems, their own lives?"

"They weren't like that before the divorce," Walter said. "We went lots of places together, Mom and Dad and me and Lisa. We really felt like a family. At least, I thought we did."

"And when Danny came along…?"

"Mom and Dad were already fighting before they had Danny," Walter admitted. "I think Dad hoped having a baby to take care of would bring the two of them back together, but it didn't. The fighting just got worse."

"And you blamed Danny?"

"Danny, me, Lisa." Walter sighed. "It was like, me and Lisa were so afraid. We thought we had to be perfect all the time because if we messed up, even a little, that could be the thing that cracked Mom and Dad apart forever. And then they did crack apart and Lisa just…"

He shook his head.

"We used to be so close, you know? She always knew how to make me feel safe when Mom and Dad were screaming at each other. We'd play games and she'd tell me stories. But, after the divorce, she drifted away. And I was left all alone with this stupid toddler who thought it was fun to throw things at my head. No one wanted to play with me anymore, or to tell me stories. I was too big for that. But Dad told Danny stories, and he played games with Danny. And Mom made me watch Danny whenever she went out to the store. She said I had to be a responsible grown-up, the man of the house. But I just wanted to be a kid again. I wanted my family back the way it was, back when they all cared about me and not just about Danny."

"So, you wished him away," she said.

"I was so stupid," Walter cried. "I knew…even then, I knew it wasn't Danny's fault. But I…I didn't _want_ to be the responsible older brother. I just…I wanted…"

"You wanted your parents' attention," she said.

"Approval. Affection. Whatever," he said. "I turned everything into a competition. It was Danny against Me, and there was no way I was going to lose out to a baby. I never gave Danny a chance. I just kept beating him down and beating him down and I didn't even feel guilty. And then he was gone, really gone, and I realized what I monster I'd been."

"That explains your dreams, then," Zöe said. "You're afraid, if you see him again, he'll reject you the way you rejected him."

Walter swallowed hard, and looked down at his hands. They were big hands, bigger than Zöe's, but they were still the hands of a boy. A foolish teenager who had seven years left to serve before he got his chance to make amends.

"Zöe?" he said.

"Yeah, Walter?"

"What do you think happens when we leave the game? I mean, most Players, they're only here in Game Space for a few hours. But what about us Penalty kids? How do we get home?"

"When we get our second chance," Zöe said, "I think we're sent back to where we started. So, when we get home, it'll be as if no time has passed."

"But time has passed, for us," Walter said. "A lot of time. What if the Game Masters send us back as we are, like in my dream?"

"Whatever happens," Zöe said, "we'll adapt and we'll survive. That's what all this training's been for. The real goal isn't to get ourselves out. It's to be the big sister and the big brother we failed to be back when we were Players."

"And, if your sister hates you?"

"I love her," Zöe said. "And I'm going to get her out of this place, no matter what."

Walter smiled and touched her face.

"I know you will," he said. "You know, you should have been the Captain, not me."

"Nah," she said. "I told you, I'd rather be in charge of flying the ship than bossing people around. Now, what do you say we—"

"Zöe!" Walter exclaimed. "Your dog tags! They're glowing!"

"What?"

Zöe looked at the glowing metal, then at Walter, her wide eyes a battleground of hope and fear.

"Oh, Walter, I think this is it," she said. "I—"

A flash of light, and Zöe was gone, taken by the same wormhole that had pulled Walter from his house so many years ago.

Walter reached a hand out to the space where she'd been standing just a moment before, then clenched his fist and sank back to his cot.

"Good luck, Commander," he whispered. "I'll see you on the other side."

_To Be Continued…_


	5. Chapter V

**Hi! Sorry it's been so long between updates - I've had to do a lot of traveling around for research and a conference, then I had to catch my flight home for Christmas and as soon as I got here I caught a nasty cold and the medicine really knocked me out. Still, here's the next part - a little late but I hope you'll like it and I'll do my best to finish up the next part before I have to leave again for school. Happy Holidays everyone, and thanks for reading my story! :)  
**

**Chapter V**

Walter could tell the Game Masters were in a mood even before he entered the ship's Communications Chamber. Static electricity crackled in his hair as he stalked down the corridor and through the narrow sliding door.

The screen was already activated, the holo-projector making it appear as if the Game Masters were seated in a double row in front of him. They were all dressed in grey space-suits and silver helmets – a silent, faceless wall of staring disapproval.

"Greetings, Admiral."

The Game Masters spoke as one, in a collective voice that precluded any differentiation in gender or age.

"Hey," Walter waved back and crossed his arms over his own space suit. "What is it this time?"

"Still the same, charming attitude, we see," the Game Masters chorused. "Why is it that every time we call you in for a chat you act like we're going to scold you?"

"Maybe because every time you call me in you scold me," Walter said. "So, what did I do wrong this time? Was I too gruff with the Players? I didn't invite my officers to dinner this week?"

"Walter," the Masters said. "Do you know why we created this game?"

"Some sick sociological experiment?" Walter grumbled.

"We want to know your people, Walter," they said. "Understand how they think, how they feel, how they build and maintain relationships with one another and their environment."

"Yeah, yeah, you're just a bunch of benevolent observers here to help humanity one screwed up kid at a time. I know the party line."

"It is your anger that concerns us, Admiral."

"You ever consider maybe I wouldn't be so angry if you hadn't trapped me here for fifteen years?"

"Did you ever consider your circumstances might have been worse if we had left you alone?" the Game Masters chorused.

Walter scowled, images from his nightmares flashing through his brain. He shook his head to clear them away.

"Now you're sounding like Zöe."

"Zöe was a skilled Player," the Game Masters said. "Children like her make us believe there may be hope for your strange species."

"While guys like me make you doubt it, is that what you're trying to say?"

"There it is again," the Game Masters chided. "That defensiveness. Jumping to conclusions. Dear Walter—"

"Don't 'dear Walter' me," Walter snapped. "Don't pretend like you care about me. You're no better than a bunch of alien jailers. You abducted us from our homes, from our families, with the lure of a stupid board game. You forced us to join your Fleet, to risk our lives fighting monsters, and for what? The peril wouldn't exist if you hadn't created the danger in the first place. If you really cared about me and the Penalty Kids like you claim you'd pack up this game, stop with these ridiculous tests, and let them go home. Why don't you just let them all go home? I'll stay here and be your guinea pig if you'll just let them go."

The Game Masters sat motionless.

"Admiral," they said. "We did not call you here to reproach you."

"What do you want, then?"

"When you came here, you were a selfish little boy. You thought only of yourself. Over the years, you forged a close bond with Zöe, but still you remained insular and self-centered. Time after time, you failed to look beyond your own interests to consider the wider implications of your attitude, your words, or your actions."

Walter wrinkled his nose. "Didn't you just say you didn't call me here to reproach me?"

"This is not a reproach, it is a progress report," the Game Masters said. "Your suffering here has been largely self-inflicted – a reflection of your own crushing guilt. For a long time, that guilt was translated into anger but this has changed. You have learned to accept your own culpability for your presence here, and for your callous treatment of your younger brother. You have learned to reach out to other children like yourself, to guide them away from your angry path. In recent evaluations, the children under your command have described you as a big brother – a positive, guiding force in their lives. Walter, your time in the Penalty Box is over. Go now, and use what you have learned here to return your family to a warm and loving home."

Walter blinked, not quite processing what had just happened.

"Wait-what do you—?" he started, but the Game Masters had already faded from view. A dim light caught his eye, and he realized his dog tags were flashing, just as Zöe's tags had flashed before she was pulled into—

"The wormhole!" he gasped, turning just in time to see the gaping mouth of the swirling time sphincter open wide to swallow him whole.

_To Be Continued…_


	6. Chapter VI

**Sorry for the delays between updates; I have the whole thing plotted out I just need time to clean it up into something readable and I've been so busy with research I haven't had that time. Sorry again, but I hope you enjoy this next part! If you have been enjoying this story, I'd love to know what you think so far. Reviews are always welcome! :)  
**

**Chapter VI  
**

The wormhole spat the disoriented astronaut back into Game Space, sending him hurtling - _smack_ - against a window like a bug against a windshield. Walter groaned and blinked to clear his vision, only to see a boy staring at him through the glass, wide eyes startled. Walter had barely time to notice the boy was standing upside down before the motion of the floating house sent him spinning toward the front porch.

Helpless to stop himself, the weightless astronaut slammed into a water pipe sticking out from the clods of earth that still remained of the yard, then into a wooden support strut before he managed to reach the control switch for his rocket pack and slow his dizzy spinning. With the skill of a master gamer, he used the rockets to position himself in front of the door and keep himself in place long enough to ring the bell. He waited a moment for the boy to answer, then reached down and worked the latch himself.

The door burst open in a dramatic cloud of frozen exhaust vapors. Walter turned until he was right side up, relative to the house, then propelled himself through the door to land on the wooden floor.

Two small boys huddled in a frightened clump at the far end of the foyer. Two unmistakably familiar little boys. They stared at the Astronaut, eyes wide with trepidation, as he broke his suit's environmental seal and pulled off his helmet.

A powerful wave of deja-vu washed over the Astronaut as he stared around the small, wooden space. This was his father's house, there was no doubt. For a moment, he wondered if he was asleep, if this was all just another one of his restless dreams. Those two children – little Danny and his own former self, sitting together in the corner – they certainly could be figments of his imagination. But that smell…the scent of old wood and new paint, mixed with the awful, charred, electrical stench left by the Zorgon missiles…

The smell made it real. Present.

This was no dream. His test had begun in earnest. But then, why was his younger self there?

Walter frowned. Could it be that the Game Masters didn't intend to send him home after all? Could all his training, his years in the field, losing Zöe… Had the Game Masters put him through all that just so he could act as a guide for his former self – prevent _him_ from making the wish that had cost the Astronaut his childhood? His life? And if he succeeded, what then? Was he doomed to fade away, the victim of a redundant timeline? Is that what the Game Masters had done to Zöe? To the other Penalty Kids who'd worked so hard to get their 'second chance'?

The Astronaut straightened, feeling his anger surge, then fade. His fate wasn't important. He was here for Danny's sake, not his own. He had to undo that awful wish, even if it meant he had to give the Game Masters his life in exchange. But first, he had a duty to perform. Zorgon ships had the house surrounded. It was time to put his training to use.

"Which one of you spun me?" he said, turning his attention to the boys.

They stared, hesitant to answer this tall, scruffy stranger.

"Who was it?" the Astronaut demanded.

Ten-year-old Walter pointed to his little brother. "Him."

The Astronaut scowled down at the boy, fighting back a powerful wave of resentment. Self-loathing was one thing the Astronaut was all too familiar with, but if he was to succeed in his mission, he couldn't let it cloud his judgment.

"Don't be so quick to sell out your brother, kid," he said. "He's all you got."

An explosion shook the house, and the Astronaut swayed to keep his balance.

"Looks like you got a pretty serious Zorgon problem," he said.

"Yeah," Walter said, looking up at him. "What do we do?"

The Astronaut would have smirked if the situation wasn't so serious.

"Hide," he said.

"Hide?" Danny said. "But they'll just explode the whole house."

"We're gonna hide the house," the Astronaut told him. "Come with me to the kitchen. I'm gonna need your help."

_To Be Continued..._


	7. Chapter VII

_OK, so this story has decided it's going to be longer than I thought. I'm terribly sorry about the wait. I honestly do understand the frustration because I share it. When inspiration flows all the threads practically weave themselves together then look around for more to do, while creative blocks can make finding the right words for a story feel like pulling your teeth out of your head! But, I've been chipping away at this story, adding a little to it almost every week (usually on Saturdays) until, today, I got a nudge that finally pushed this next chapter to the finish line. I appreciate your understanding and your patience. Thank you for sticking with me, and I hope you like this next part! :)_

* * *

**Chapter VII**

The outermost layer of Walter's bulky space suit rested in a crumpled pile on the bathroom's plaster-dusted floor. The mirror over the sink was cracked and streaky, but the Astronaut could see well enough to make out the scruff on his face, the dark bags beneath his careworn eyes. He looked haggard, old, so much older than twenty-five. The "Old Man," the Penalty kids had called him, and they were right. His guilt over Danny had aged him, made him tired and churlish.

He sighed into his hands, and splashed his face with water. The Zorgon ship was gone, for now, and he'd set the boys to listing their remaining supplies. But that Walter kid was even worse than he'd imagined. Pushy, dominating, he put down his brother at every opportunity, always itching for another challenge, another fight, another chance to assert his superiority. There was so much anger in that boy, so much hurt...

Divorce did that to a kid...how well he knew. His memories of his parents' split were still so vivid; the lawyers, the court dates, the bitter, screaming fights that had shattered his sense of security, turned the stable adults in his life into flawed, selfish, squabbling beings that loved and hurt him almost in equal measure. Walter had taken that hurt out on his brother, shoving him away, pushing him down, torn between the conviction that he couldn't trust anyone but himself and a frightening need for his parents' attention. It had taken him years to work out that anger. Fifteen long years...

But what could he do? What would Zöe do?

Zöe would laugh at him for even asking, that's what she'd do. She'd say he knew how to handle this; he'd handled angry bullies like Walter hundreds of time on hundreds of missions. Her voice rose out from his memory and, for a moment, it was almost as if she was standing there, her hand on his shoulder and a glint in her eye that made him wonder if she was going to ruffle his hair or dunk his face in the sink.

"Just remember," she said, "you're older than them now. You understand more than they do. Sure, this Walter kid's gonna challenge that. He'll do everything he can to test you, to push your buttons, to snap your very last nerve. But the moment you snap is the moment he wins...and if he wins, everyone loses. So, don't yell at this kid. Assign the boys tasks, make sure they both feel important, that they know they're both needed. Once you get them working together, they're already halfway home. And so are you..."

Walter nodded, and reached for a towel before his eyes could start stinging. He missed Zöe so much, missed her smile, her humor. She'd been his tether when he felt cast adrift. Without her, he felt like he was treading water.

But, she was right. Walter wouldn't reach out to a stranger, that much was clear. Especially if he saw that stranger as a rival to his own authority over Danny. He would just have to keep playing mediator, station himself between the two boys and be the mature example they needed.

Could he pull it off? So much was riding on this, on his ability to rise above his guilt, his anxieties. On his ability to be the adult...

Walter reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny figure - the miniaturized, cryogenically frozen form of his sister. He'd carried her with him all these years, on every mission. Lisa had seemed so mature when he was a child, so grown up and independent. Looking at her now, at her unaging face... She was as much a child as he had been. And she always would be. Unless...

A clattering crash sounded outside, followed by the shrill din of angry voices. The Astronaut sighed and headed back into the fray.

* * *

_More to come. Thanks again for your patience!_

_Until next time! :)_


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