crack_van | Scavengers by Jane Lebak (PG-13)

Fandom: Gatchaman/Battle of the Planets
Pairing: none
Author on LJ: unknown
Author Website: Jane's fanfiction archive
Why this must be read:

I actually recommend absolutely everything written by Jane Lebak, but this is the jumping-off point for her BOTP universe fic, and an excellent story for fans of Jason or for people who sympathize with the kids that society doesn't. The team are still kids, and Jason, fifteen, is screwing up at school and feels like a failure in comparison to his "perfect" siblings, especially Mark, and believes his father figure Anderson doesn't love him. He attempts suicide, and the entire family needs to pull together to help him and to cope themselves.

Jason took his assigned seat, trying to look over someone's shoulder to see their copy of the article. Literacy and the decline of absolutism, or something--some op-ed piece. He sat forward, eyes down. Mark took this class, too, and he entered now, a moment before the bell rang.

Doubtless, Mark had read the assignment.

Jason waited for this fifty-minute segment of his life to end, prepared to spend it penciling sketches of cars in the margin of his notebook. He looked up as the lecture began, only to find shortly that he had been singled out to summarize the article. Jason burned--if only he hadn't fought the kid--but he wouldn't have if he hadn't been looking for the article--and he wouldn't have looked if he'd remembered to read it.

Jason kept his eyes and voice level as he declined.

"Well," Mr. Osmond said, "that gives you something to do after class today, doesn't it?"

Fifty minutes passed. Then detention--what everyone called ninth period, almost a regular class for some.

Mr. Osmond had ten kids in his detention, including the kid formerly bleeding from being smacked into the wall. Jason grinned at him, but he gave that up and turned to his assignment. Mr. Osmond had a practical nature--learn your schoolwork, learn a job skill at the same time in case you failed out. He had Jason type the article onto one of the school's clunky word processors.

I'm an idiot, Jason thought. This takes longer than reading, only I can't remember the assignments, can't get around to them when I do, can't finish them once I start, can't get them right once I've done them.

Jason felt it hard to look up. He typed as steadily as he could, but the weight on his shoulders increased. His eyes hurt, and it felt hard to breathe.
That Italian essay--he'd had a good time, only Mrs. Parker didn't like the content. Squeamish bitch probably was vegetarian, too. So he shouldn't try to make it tense--shouldn't try to make it special or individual. Not that he was one of those anyway. She didn't like him. That was all.

Well, you're not alone. Jason banged at the keyboard for a while, but that made more mistakes than taking it steadily, and it also got him nasty looks from the others.
Let her wait for me. Breathing had gotten really difficult, and his eyes stung. It had been a good idea to trace a path from his room to Anderson's, from there to the gun. He'd even dropped hints at what he'd find, built tension the way they said in English lit.

I don't even care, Jason thought, finishing his typing. I'm a total failure.

Scavengers