Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The first year of the Safe House is, by all accounts, a success. Cecile, the high tiered press lead, has held back from being overly opinionated on the issue, merely allowing the doubt of her journalists to speak for itself. An article by mid-tier Juni Andracas casts doubt on its capabilities, but another article on the opposite page encourages students to think for themselves and breaks down what the Safe House is offering. The week after John saves a brunet mid tier from a stone-skinned low ranker bully, an article appears in the news that the kid eagerly shows John during his shift. 

Mid tiers, even stronger ones, have begun to appear at the Safe House. When John asks after them, invariably they throw out some combination of Tanner and Illena’s names, or Zeke’s. He snorts; it seems like with the smallest, most exploitable among them now under the protection of the Royals, the mid-tiers who could by and large defend themselves before without much fuss have been driven to look for an easier way. 

With the influx, infighting among the lower ranks slows to a crawl; John hardly runs into hallway bullying anymore. The freshmen try their luck and fail comically, which is handled with ease. The new patrol policy Remi and Blyke are trying out is a huge help, and Sera throws in a save or two if it's not out of her way.

And with his fighting classes growing by the day, more and more of the lower ranks are finding themselves on a more level playing field than it had been last year. It turns dicey, at times, but John shuts things down without too much trouble whenever emotions start boiling over. 

Things really are changing, slowly but surely. He’s gotten to know the other high rankers somewhat as well... most of them range from frustration whenever he dares speak to his friends (or any high ranker) like an equal, confused at the comfort with which he interacts with high rankers, impressed at his fighting skill without an ability, and dismissive of any skills or worth he has to offer. There’s cold, distant Arlo, who only covers for Remi as a last resort and sometimes drops by to drag Sera out for chats that invariably leave her pissed and distant. There’s sarcastic Isen, who fills in whenever Blyke or Remi beg, and is still more Blyke-and-Remi’s friend than he is John’s, not for the duo’s lack of trying. And there's hardworking Meili and busy Ventus, who spend more time at the Safe House than ever since Zeke smacked Meili around on one of her shifts. She’s more open to the crowd of mid tiers than he is, with some of them having defended her enough for her to get her bearings and drive him out. 

Some things stay the same; some people never change. That’s just how it is. 

But when John watches a low tier healer treat Meili’s wounds and a pair of mid tiers support her on their shoulders as they take her to the infirmary, he can't fight the smile creeping onto his face. They’re strong in their own ways, and working hard to become stronger. John doesn’t think he could imagine a better world than this.

It feels a little bit like hearing cheers from the sidelines as he blocks another hit, takes down another opponent. A little bit like a voice he’s not heard for a long, long time. 

(John checks his phone, first once a day, then twice, then three times and four. Every time, there’s a message waiting for him in his inbox, from a number he doesn’t let himself save. Any message could be the last.)

(He already ruined everything, after all. He shouldn’t even have dared ask for this chance.)

That’s how John knows when Arlo starts to move. Sera’s often grumbled and complained to him about the King’s emphasis on hierarchical order. Once she’d begun to step outside the hierarchy, Arlo had moved to reign her back in. Despite the careful trades in privileges Sera had made to quell Arlo’s protests, despite their differences in status, Arlo still hadn’t given up on Sera returning to the hierarchy, and made sure she knew it. 

Remi, meanwhile, painted a very different picture. She often referred to memories of sweet days the two of them had spent with her brother just a couple years ago. Apparently they had annoying nicknames for each other, and she often complained that Arlo could be overprotective. 

Well, John conceded, Remi was Remi. She’d looked at a monster and decided that she should make it her friend. She’d refused, all those times, to let him push her away. And he still didn’t know why - why had Remi been so persistent? What had he done to earn her focus? He could believe that both were true - that Remi brought out Arlo’s better nature, like anyone else, and it was undeniable that Sera always came back from speaking with Arlo in a bad mood. 

When Arlo moves, he does so decisively. Rumors thread like the roots of a tree through the school, absolutely ensnaring the Safe House. First, the public crushing of Illena and Tanner, for engaging in pointless and unfair violence; not even by the King himself, but by an elite. Then Zeke, this time by Arlo himself, for wasting his time on low rankers instead of contributing to order enforcement in the school. 

Fear sweeps the school. The relaxed attitude of the low rankers begins to revert, especially during school hours and outside Safe House walls. It is no secret that the Safe House does not make Arlo happy, and that he plans to hold someone responsible for it. The whispers continue, but John can’t tell at first where Arlo’s gaze is pointed anymore. It turns out that’s because that gaze has finally landed on him.

Five years ago, it was unthinkable that a near-cripple could go from the bottom to the top ten, nevermind ascending to King mere months later. Two years ago, it was impossible to dream that John would have any kind of future outside of those four walls, let alone friends. A year ago, it was unimaginable that John would attend a school where he could live safely-ish as a low ranker and protect innocents from the same daily torture he’d once had to endure. 

Now, John pretends to be a cripple for everyone’s sake. Despite that, he’s managed to make friends with the strongest among them and help her find her way towards happiness. And despite having next to no influence in the hierarchy, he’s become one of the lead figures in a revolutionary restructuring of the school, an example that shows fear through strength isn’t the only way to lead. That the hierarchy, with all its flaws, isn’t a necessary evil to be suffered for the betterment of the world. It’ll be torn down, he swears.

He just wishes he could do more. But he does what he can.  

When Arlo comes for him, John doesn't realize it at first. It's strange when a pair of elites jump him. They're a decent pair of fighters, if not the smoothest, the frontrunner charging in swinging while the ranged guy stands back, launching explosions that keep John busy dodging. Weirder still that it's outside of his shift, and yet the one with short, blue hair and orange eyes is vaguely familiar. Most people have at least heard of the crazy cripple who acts far above his station by now, even the upperclassmen. But it's not totally unusual for John to deal with attacks in his own right, and he can manage the usual mid tiers. He handles these two pretty alright, if he does say so himself, even though his phone ends up a casualty of the altercation.

When he complains to the Safe House at large during a good ol’ game of Unopoly about the incident with the elites breaking his phone in the fight, the crowd quiets instantly, clearly uncomfortable. Nobody wants to meet John's gaze, even stronger students looking away as John glances around.

It's as if things are already decided.

Finally, Dylan pipes up. He’s fiddling with his tie, not looking John in the eye when he says it... but still, he speaks. “Uhm, that’s Holden and Abel. Abel, uh, I've seen him guarding the roof and Royals meetings. And Holden’s Arlo’s friend; I've seen him here a couple times, but he’s not all that friendly.” 

Evie speaks next, breaking through the anger and fear that’s settled like a fog over the room. Her eyes shine first with anger, then with determination. “Uhm, John, it kind of seems like… if Arlo is going after disruptions in the hierarchy, you might be a pretty easy target.” She locks eyes with him, imploring, “Please be careful! And remember… we’ve got your back!”

Chuckling, he waves off her concern. “Ah, lighten up, you guys! I can handle myself. There’s no need to worry.”

Chapter Text

The Safe House crowd thins out a bit after John’s warned about Arlo. Whispers start up, with even the most brave-spoken loyalists caught dashing a glance or two around the halls before slowing down and slipping into the club room. Remi spends more time in John and Blyke's room, brainstorming ways to make people feel more safe at the Safe House, though she expresses confusion as to why people are fleeing to begin with. Seeing the club falter like this hurts all of them in their own ways, but Remi's taking it as a personal failure. She insists on checking in on old members who aren't showing up any more on her patrols, particularly as violence resurges around the school, those same old vicious elites and mid rankers taking out their built-up frustration. 

John knows what his dad was trying to teach him when he wrote Unordinary. ‘We all have our own influence, and we can use it for good, to improve society.’ 

John isn’t meant for that kind of thing, but he can play support to people who are - people like Remi. Maybe he’s one of the few who understands why it’s so important, having himself gone from cripple to high tier and back again. 

So John does what he can. He starts holding ability training sessions alongside his martial arts lessons, which brings some of the old energy back. Begging Sera to attend a session or two is well worth it, hooking a large enough audience in early sessions that people keep coming back.

(When a comforting message lights up on his phone, he cringes back when he first reads it. He doesn’t deserve comfort, and particularly not from him.)

John is weak. John can’t handle the authority his power affords him.

So John goes out for boba with Arlo. He talks to him on the rooftop, and takes his offering of a binder in the halls. He keeps his guard up all the while, even while meeting with Arlo for errands. The farther the ride out, the more suspicious and unsettled John gets. He can’t text Sera or Remi about it. He’d started leaving his phone at the dorms after replacing it. No use taking it to school if it’d just break. It wasn’t worth the risk, not with Adrion waiting for him. 

But on the other hand, school grounds are one thing. If Arlo decides to make his move here, John is not quite sure whether he’ll survive it. Except that he has to.

John is led out onto a wide empty field. The elites who’d attacked him is waiting there for them - Holden and Cabel, it had been? Oh, John had seen blue-haired boy before. He’d come to a few of the Safe House events as Arlo’s shadow. 

So this was the stage upon which John would be attacked. Fine, then. 

The blurring started before Arlo even opened his mouth. 

A green haired girl stood across from him.

A blue-eyed boy stood across from him. 

She stood at the front of a crowd, which shuffled about. Sparks of aura were already flowing through several members of the crowd. 

Three boys stood in front of him, flanking and forming a wall around their King. Not a single one was powered up. 

She tearfully insisted, These are all people that you’ve hurt. We’ve called you here-

Arlo lectures, “-refusal to fall into place is unacceptable-“ 

She’s gesturing, holding her hands out as if to press the vicious crowd behind her into the shape of ‘victims.’ -doesn’t have to be like this, things can change. If we work together-

John grips his palms til he can hear Arlo over Claire the hallucination, barely taking notice of the wet blood meeting his nails as he digs in. “-take my generous offer, my associates will just have to make you learn your place.” The King gestures to the three in front of him, who leap forward with varying degrees of relish. 

And he takes it. He takes Zeke’s blitz as it smashes into him, the blank expression of the blue-haired lackey as he dashes forth, every explosion that rattles his torso, his shoulders, his back.

This much? It’s easy to bear, especially when that horrible battlefield is all he can see.

John clings to the thought that he can’t let Arlo win. That he has to crush the monster down, and if it takes a ton of force, he'll do it. The Safe House is waiting for him. Remi and Sera have no clue who they decided to befriend. And Adrion only just started talking to him again. 

Plus, the more they pummel him, the more Arlo loses that superior, arrogant look on his face. And John would do anything to keep that going. 

So John endures, beaten into a bloody, unresisting thing. He knew where this was going. He won’t back down and he won’t give in. He won’t use his ability.

Bodies lie scattered across the barren field.

He was always meant to live as a cripple. He deserves it.

John doesn’t hear Arlo’s screamed demands or the abuse hurled by the three stooges. It’s all buzz in his ears as he’s held in a kneeling position on the floor, dripping blood everywhere. He closes his eyes once blood starts dripping from his forehead into his eyes.

He never could tune out his aura sense, so when Arlo powers up, his Barrier manifesting just left of John’s body, it catches the scrap of attention John has left. Actually, not only that… a flood of auras have taken the field. 

A flood of auras surges forth, activating at once. Watching as the crowd surges past her, the green-haired girl only smiles. 

Someone steps in front of him. Frankly, at that point, he’s barely conscious. A weak healer is bent behind John, their aura covering him; the three blazing columns of larger aura reserves are each surrounded by smaller, dimmer pools of aura. 

There… are other people here. And they’re... trying to help John.

And the cries of pain haven’t stopped.

And the cries of pain don’t stop. 

Chapter Text

John remembers the argument he’d had with himself back when he’d been shoved into a Safe House leadership spot. He wasn’t planning to do it long, just enough that someone else could step up.  

Some things do change. John is one of them; he’s taken responsibility for the well-being of the members of the Safe House. 

They’re being hurt in front of him. The people he agreed to protect… they’re being hurt right in front of him. 

That means… he needs to stand and fight. So John pushes himself up to his knees, tapping into his aura. He copies the healer’s ability, sealing over the various wounds from which he was bleeding. It wasn’t true healing, but it would do. Then he let the ability suffuse throughout his body. Enough for him to stand. Enough for him to fight.

It must be a low tier ability. He doesn’t have much to work with, but it’s enough.

He turns to the kid and yells, “It’s fine. Don’t worry about me. Focus on taking care of the others.” 

The kid just gapes, dumbfounded. He’s a first year who’d just joined the Safe House two weeks ago, John’s pretty sure. He’s pretty good at New Texis Hold ‘Em, so John respects him. 

But John has things to do, so he stands and speaks. His knees ache. “Arlo. You leave my people alone.”

The field stills. The elites Arlo had brought to this crapshow just stopped in their tracks - long enough for John to pick up Zeke’s Phase Shift and the rooftop guy’s ranged explosions. The Safe House low rankers… stop, backing away and towards each other during the short moment of distraction. 

It’s a good move. There’s safety and options in numbers, if there’s nowhere to run. He’ll have to critique some of them on their stance later.

He feels like he’s floating out of his body when he hears the response. Arlo’s Barrier begins to shrink. “What are you going to do? Stop me?” Arlo challenges. 

The Barrier is closing over Dylan. Dylan, who looks up at John, terrified and teary, but still smiling. “Glad you hung in there, coach!” He shouts. 

Arlo’s Barrier ability isn’t difficult to copy. He slides his copy right underneath Arlo’s, then expands it. Arlo stumbles back. “Don’t you get it? You can’t touch me.” John hisses. “So leave, Arlo, and you can even keep your title.”

Zeke’s frozen in place. Meanwhile, the other blue-haired lackey leaps for John. “Who do you think you-“

John tanks the hit with Zeke’s defense form. He knocks the boy out with a phase-powered slam to the fist, paired with a couple stomps to the chest for good measure. The boy crumples to the floor, just as irrelevant as he’s always been. He only moves to spit blood with every new rib broken. He turns to Zeke, who’s trying to run. He blitzes forward, pulling a scream out. He throws Zeke into the air, then kicks him in the gut when he falls. Blood spurts out Zeke’s mouth on impact. 

So many students, lying on the floor. They’re bleeding, or their bones are broken, or they’re barely breathing. 

Arlo’s eyes dart towards him, then back to John. John sneers, “Anyone got anything else smart to say?”

There’s silence. The Safe House students begin to drag the wounded together, and the healer freshman darts about, healing the worst injuries. He gasps as he stumbles about, running lower yet lower on aura.

John can’t save anyone. He knows that. Fundamentally, he’s always ended up hurting people, no matter what he tries to do. That isn’t going to change miraculously.

Might as well make it the right people. Or, the wrong ones. 

So as he moves towards Arlo, he strolls forward, calm as can be. When a missile shoots towards him, sent by the last remaining elite on the side, he kicks the guy into the air, then slams his foot into his back, loosing an explosion towards the guy. He doesn’t even look at him; just hears the impact. “Arlo.” John growls. 

Arlo meets him, eye to eye. “So you just decided to throw away your responsibilities?”

“Let him go.” John’s voice doesn’t waver or tremble. He looses another explosion, this time aimed for the Barrier Arlo had erected around Dylan. It cracks, but doesn’t break. 

Arlo grits his teeth. A conflicted expression comes across his face; a somewhat familiar one. John’s seen it on plenty of Wellston’s bullies, outclassed by a low tier with some decent training.

Pride, at war with resignation, where no one wins and no one can move forward.  

John can’t accept that. So he slams into Arlo, blitzing him with attack form. A Barrier flickers into existence between them. That doesn’t stop John. He keeps going, until Arlo is on the floor. 

So many students, lying on the floor. They’re bleeding, or their bones are broken, or they’re barely breathing. 

It’s all John can do to stand there, watching Arlo collapse onto his knees. The once-proud Defense King reduced to rubble in front of the crowd. He grabs Arlo by the hair. “Why?” tears out of his throat. “Why do this?”

He grips at green hair, screaming. He holds her there on her knees. He’s desperate for an answer to the questions carving their way out of his lungs. She shoves him off her, slaps him, and begins to rant madly.

Arlo glares up at him, eyes cold and unforgiving. “It’s what’s right. Hierarchy rules.” 

The green-haired girl glares at him, tears streaming from her face. Monster. 

He slams his fist into the face beneath him. Arlo crumples, unconscious at last.

The girl crumpled to the floor below. No one else remained standing. 

An aura flashes at the periphery of his range, blazing brighter than any ability he’s ever sensed. He turns away from Arlo and catches Seraphina’s eyes. She’s running straight towards him, leaping over Safe House students, practically teleporting.   

A blond boy stands at the far side of the field. He stares at the carnage, face twisting. His green eyes are shadowed with disappointment. 

He depowers immediately, leaving him to crumple to the floor. Rolling away from the body next to him Arlo, he pants for breath he hadn’t realized he’d missed. And then he’s staring at the sky, so vast and bright and sunny it feels wrong, so he closes his eyes.

Except that’s no good either. The blood on his hands is sticky; it’ll only be worse if he doesn’t wash soon. 

How can he go back to his room? How can he face Blyke, or Remi? 

He reopens his eyes, if only to quiet the rest of his senses: the dull roar in his ears, the blazing of the few auras still pulsing around him. And when he does, Seraphina is standing above him. “What are you doing?” She huffs. “John, what’s the meaning of any of this?” 

A blond boy stands at the far side of the field. He’s already calling someone, babbling information and pleas for help into the phone. The world blurs.

John can only blink at her. 

Her brow furrows. “And still now, you don’t answer me?” She glances over the field, cursing. “Damn it, John, what have you gotten into?”

Despite her harsh words, she grasps his hands with her own. He wants to answer her, he swears. 

A blond boy stands at the far side of the field. He’s already calling someone, babbling information and pleas for help into the phone. But not for long; the world blurs as he hurls forward, slamming a fist into the blond boy’s face. 

Except, really, what is there to be said. “Take them back.” He breathes aloud. The world is fading fast as the adrenaline surging through his veins subsides with the quieting of his aura.

 Ah, Remi will need his replacement. 

Chapter Text

When he wakes, he’s in a familiar spot - one of the beds in the school infirmary. 

Oh god. What has he done. He just- oh god what has he done. 

John is a dirty liar, a fake and a coward. He knows it; it’s why he’s hiding his ability, why he’s refusing to admit to the monster within, why he’s lied to his dad about everything, and why he’d rather have let Arlo crush him into bloody flesh and broken bones than become King. 

But no one else was supposed to know that. He needs to be a low tier; for the Safe House and everyone there who looks up to his strength.

He never should’ve done this. He helped grow the Safe House - he loves the Safe House - and now he’ll be the spear upon which it shatters. 

He wasn’t meant to be taking the role of the savior at the front. The best he could’ve hoped for was to be lost amongst the crowds. To become just another average person, going about an unexceptional life. Fading into the background and cutting loose all responsibility - all possibility for John to become a liability; or worse, a threat. 

Damn it, he’d held onto the role for too long. He’d thought… no, he hadn’t thought. He’d gotten greedy, hadn’t he? He’d said he’d pass everything he had on, and not anything more. He’d lied to everyone, including himself. 

He just thinks… he should be the one taking all the hits. He should be the one bleeding on the floor. None of the people he’s ever wanted to protect deserve that. But he’ll gladly take on that role, because the worst thing is to let someone be hurt in front of him. 

He’d said he’d do it for Adrion and Blyke. What a joke. Neither of them were ever going to speak to him again after this. They’d rid themselves of the monster, now that they’d seen it let loose.

He’s in the infirmary. The last thing he’d seen was Sera, and now she wasn’t here. And he still didn’t have his phone…

Dully staring at his lap, he resolves himself to stay put. There was no making this better than it was, after all. The authorities were probably coming for him. What had he expected…

Light floods into his corner when the curtain is pushed aside. Someone comes through. Who, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t look up. 

He doesn’t want to see.

A blond boy stands at the far side of the field. He’s already calling someone, babbling information and pleas for help into the phone. The world blurs.

A feminine voice says, “John. Are you okay?”

It’s Remi. 

He still doesn’t look at her. After all, what is there left for him to say? What would she want from him?

Above all, he’d hate to catch those warm red eyes looking at him, disappointed or cold or scared. 

Not right now. 

“John.” She repeats. She sounds exhausted; like the weight of the world balances entirely on her tiny shoulders. Or Wellston, at least, and it very well might. Great going, he’d been a fantastic friend. He’d been the one to drain Wellston’s Lightning Queen of her spark. 

“Why are you here?” He rasps, finally. “The Safe House-,”

Remi doesn’t let him finish. “Explain.” The sentence is uncharacteristically curt and flat. 

Now he looks up at her. As expected, she’s turned her red-eyed glare on him. But the whites of her eyes are redder than usual too, and her voice scrapes out from somewhere deep. She’s been crying, or yelling, or both. He wants to ask, wants to reach out-

He’s been getting greedy. 

She yells, “Explain!” Her aura flares, lightning sparking in her eyes and on her hands, her usually impeccable control shattering. Momentarily surprised, John tracks the tightening of her fists as she powers down enough that her aura no longer pings on John’s aura sense. But he’s no longer sure if the red to her eyes is from crying or the scattered remnants of her power. 

He looks away, finally muttering, “I never wanted you to see me like that.”

She collapses into the chair by the bedside. “Why? A-and why didn’t you tell me you had an ability?” She rubs at her eyes, harsh and quick, muttering something John can’t hear.

“I- I don’t use it. I’d never meant to use it again.” His jaw locks at the thought of letting any more out. Instead, he switches topics. “The Safe House… why were they there? They shouldn’t have been there, it was supposed to only be me.”

Remi heaves a sigh, but doesn’t get to continue. They’re both startled when the curtain is flung open again, from the side of the room farther from the door. This time it stays open. Sera’s striding forward, and beyond her, John can see Arlo, glaring up from his bed, and even the elite with the explosive ability beyond him. 

What had Sera been doing?

Sera stretches an arm and chuckles. Your friend Remi would like that, wouldn’t she? Are you sure you’re not just trying to dethrone me? She elbows him playfully, and he hisses in response to the hit. I see how it is, John Doe. They’ll call you the Kingmaker if you keep going like this. 

Right. He’d lied to her. What could he expect? 

She says to Remi, “I’ll hear this too.” Dragging a chair between the foot of the beds, she sits, legs and arms crossed. “You’ll both explain yourselves, understand?” Her eyes connect with John’s first, then Arlo’s.  

Arlo only scowls. “I can’t believe the both of you. You decided to get involved with an unverified person like him and actually listened to his strange and dangerous ideas. And for what?” 

Remi doesn’t even look at Arlo. “If Rei was here right now, he’d be disgusted by you.”

Arlo’s face flattens. “Don’t- Pinky, you didn’t even have a clue, did you? You didn’t suspect him at all.” He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, as if to move to her.

John can’t help but lash out. “What are you doing blaming her?” His arm sweeps wide as he gestures, distracted momentarily from the grimness of his reality. “She was just being a normal friend. Normal people don’t pretend to befriend people just to find out their f*cking secrets. Normal people don’t have to be suspicious of their friends like that. If you stopped harassing people, if you left well enough alone, none of us would be here!”

Scoffing, Arlo sets in, eyes blazing with aura. “And is that why you pretended to be a cripple? Not only did you run away, you had to drag Seraphina into the same mindset. How useless. How dare you approach Remi to-“,

Useless, the red haired man scoffed. Insubordinate… and churlish. 

Late bloomers are destined to fail. 

John cuts in. “Do you think I’m stupid? I know what I am. I chose to live like the dirt beneath your foot, you know. I never dared to think I deserved anything more.” He prays that’s true. He’s been getting greedy, after all. And John knew what happened when he got greedy. “Are you stupid? Did you think I wouldn’t know what you were trying to do, Arlo? Why do you think I didn’t fight back?”

The room went silent, like the air had been completely sucked out of it. Someone sucks in a breath, but John isn’t sure who. There’s a rustle, Arlo’s aura signature dimming with it. 

Sera says quietly, “Is that why you lied then?”

John looks up just in time to see Remi and Sera exchange quiet, sad looks. Remi murmurs, “You didn’t want to lead Safe House, but you were so particular about who and what was safe.” 

Sera tips her head back. Thoughtfully, she replies, “You called the role of Queen a ‘burden’.” 

“Tsk.” Arlo sneered. “When I looked through his records, he was-,”

“King.” John says, quietly, the mere word out his mouth almost an out of body experience. But he wants to be the one to say it, after everything. “I was King at my old school.” 

Unfolding a note reveals the message, ‘Meet me after school today. - Claire. A flush slips onto his face.

Of course Arlo had looked at his records. What did he expect.  

Arlo takes over. “Expelled for excessive violence. A reckless high ranker who abused his power over others. Tell us, John. Why can’t you take responsibility?”

John doesn’t respond. There is no answer to that. 

Late bloomers are destined to fail. 

But nobody moves to say anything. Slowly, he gives a measured response. “Whatever you want me to be, I’m not it. As far as the hierarchy, I might as well be a cripple. I don’t want a part in your sh*tty kingdom. That’s not a goddamn crime.”

Arlo goes to speak again. Before John hears a word, Sera’s blurred into motion, aura streaking into a line as she slams across the room into Arlo’s bed. Arlo’s head snaps back instantly, hitting the wall. 

John had seen Sera do worse. She’s not done, though. She snarls at Arlo, “I’ve warned you, but it seems I let you get used to running your mouth. Speak one more time, and I will end you.” 

Arlo gasps, nose dripping with blood, and a dazed smile curls onto his face. He merely nods. Remi glances him over, shrugging even as her face wrinkles with obvious pity. She mutters something John can’t quite hear, but leaves Arlo flinching back, smile wiped from his face. He slumps backwards, turning away; clearly done with the conversation. 

Meanwhile, Sera regards them both, amused. “Didn’t you end up bothered anyway? You were more invested in the Safe House than almost anyone.” 

His rhythm is thrown off beat. Yes, he’d never meant to- to do this. “I- it doesn’t-,”

Remi spoke then, quietly. “John.” Instead of the flat tone her voice has taken all conversation, it wobbles. “You’ve gotta answer. Why’d things have to go this far?” 

Speaking has always been harder than fighting, for John. If anyone is owed answers, it’s Remi, who befriended a monster without hesitation. If anyone is owed answers, it’s Sera, who was just the same as he was, only better and stronger. 

His fingers aren’t tapping against his knees anymore. “I’m not… a good opponent. When I use my ability, I fight for decisive victory. So that my opponents can’t get so much as a lucky shot in.” He scoffs. “You’ve seen what people do with mercy. The entitlement, the arrogance of high rankers. Better to not have the option to fight back. Better to do my best to run away, and take the rest. Better, for everyone here.” His voice catches in his throat. 

Remi falls quiet. Sera snorts at that, a pained wrinkle in her brow. She doesn’t continue, though she looks John over. He burns under her gaze. Whenever they’ve been in the infirmary before, he always played it off. With her, there wasn’t any need to waste time upset or hurt. She wouldn’t push it, and he didn’t lament it overly much. That was their way. 

Some things changed, but he’d hoped this wouldn’t be one of them. 

Heaving a sigh, Sera offers him a small smile. “John, you jerk. Never do something like this to me again. I know you like to moralize it, but defending yourself with your strength isn’t wrong. It’s what everyone does.” She pauses then, and adds, “If you do something you’ll regret, I’ll be there to stop you. So don’t run away anymore.” She looks the room over again, gaze pausing on Remi. “School’s over, by the way. Doc said you could walk back to your room once you were up. Text me once you start on the literature homework. You don’t have time to waste on it.” Sweeping her jacket sleeve off her shoulder, she stood, brushing herself off. Stretching her hands out, she briskly swanned out of the infirmary. 

Remi glanced at Sera as she left, then swiped her arm across her face one more time. “John. You’ve always supported me and believed in me without hesitation. No matter how crazy it is, you’ve always been on my side. Now, I’ll make sure to prove it to you. That I’m on your side, no matter what.” She pulls out a shaky grin, and offers him a thumbs up. “Because I’m your friend, so that’s what I’m for.” 

Once Remi leaves, Arlo turns and looks between John and the door, then hops up off the bed and chases after her. John can barely hear him shout as the door swings closed. 

John’s not in any kind of rush. 

For one, he’s not really sure what just happened with Sera and Remi. They’d demanded answers; that much was expected. Arlo riling him up had only made things so much worse. He was surprised the boy had been in the infirmary at all; but then, his ability had reflexive damage as part of the kit.   

And he couldn’t be trusted not to drive people to the brink of what life could handle.

But something about their demeanors had shifted…  he’d been talking to Arlo right before it happened, he thinks. He rolls over. He can’t… quite place it. They’d been angry, still, but every word spoken after had been quiet, with the odd glance towards him.  

Ahh, he doesn’t know. Whatever. He doesn’t have to go back to the dorm room. He doesn’t have to face Blyke, who’s surely heard all about about it by now. 

Chapter Text

When he wakes next, it’s to a rough shaking on his arm. Various voices are whispering around him, so fast he can’t particularly pick one out.  He pushes the hand shaking him away and rolls over. He’s somewhat sore, and he feels drowsy. 

He drifts off for what feels like 10 minutes, and a sharp growl is what finally sparks him out of his sleep. “John! Get up!” 

“Huh?” He sits up sharply. Hm, there’s no pain, he’s just a bit sore around the ribs. He smiles to himself. Doc’s tonics work the usual miracles. 

In fact, it’s Doc looking back at him, eyes ringed in shadow like usual. “You were supposed to go back to the dorm last night. I can’t believe you slept here.” The man pinches his forehead, staring up at the ceiling.

Ignoring him, John glances around, assessing the situation. He’s in the same clothes as yesterday, and it’s about an hour before classes start, based on the clock. 

…he hadn’t managed to talk to Remi about who would cover his shift today. Ugh… he doesn’t know what he’ll do without the Safe House. 

Should’ve thought of that before losing control and his spot in the Safe House with it. Leave it to John Doe to screw up this bad. 

His attention snaps back to Doc, who’s muttering under his breath and pulling out assessment tools. “Well, since you’re here, I’ll look you over. Honestly, your injuries were almost enough to send you to the hospital. Then, you better run back to the dorm, alright?” Something about the look in the nurse’s eyes changed as he glanced John over one more time. “I’ll get you a pass for your first hour of class. Make sure to get breakfast.” 

He went ahead and ran some tests on John. As expected, everything was in order, and Doc reluctantly released him. 

The school was surprisingly quiet. Though John loves the Safe House, he can’t help but relish the peaceful moment. Even having lost control yesterday, even with the music to face in mere hours, even with his impending meeting with the authorities and his dad… John strolls through the halls of this school calmly, this place where he’s been the best he’s ever been, and sighs. 

When he returns to their suite, he doesn’t expect to run into Blyke in the shared area. The other boy yelps when John walks in, shoe half on and jacket slung over his shoulder.

The main area is messier than usual. Blyke’s fairly neat, so John has always tried to restrict his mess to his own room, but a blanket is strewn across the floor, and the couch pillows have been shoved off.  

“John!” His roommate shouts, nearly falling over and thoroughly distracting him. “You’re back! Man, from what Remi and Dylan said, I thought you’d head home for a bit afterwards. Doc got you all fixed up?” 

Shrugging quietly, he moves towards his room.

He didn’t want to face Blyke. To face all the bridges he’d burnt by giving in to the monster within. Almost against his will, he says, “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be… awhile, if that’s fine by you.” 

Without waiting for his answer, he passes Blyke and enters his room. Collapsing to the floor, he presses his hands against his eyelids. The door is a solid weight against his back. The world fuzzes around him; the stunned silence giving way to blank noise. 

He sits like that for who knows how long. Slowly, noise returns - a silence so absolute, his breath sounded like claps of thunder. He glances up at the clock and idly notes that his third class has already ended. 

He could go get lunch. He probably should. He looks over at the note loosely clutched in his hand, brushing a finger over it to unfold it. John Doe is excused from his first two classes. - Doc 

Ah, he’s already racked up an unexcused absence. How fun.

He keeps staring at the ceiling and lets the blur flow back in.

The red-haired man tsks, looking away. The world shakes, blinking in and out of view. The red haired man lectures some more, then leaves. 

It is quiet; all there is to do is stare at the ceiling. His hands strain against the barcuffs, but there’s nowhere else to go but the dark, dank room.

He sits like that until the door behind him is shaking. Bang, bang, ba-bang, bang. It rattles with the later hits. With a bleary blink, John stumbles to his feet, and turns. As if from a very far distance, he can hear Blyke screaming. 

He can’t bring himself to move towards the sound. He doesn’t want to see him. Moving his body feels like moving concrete. 

But… 

C’mon, hurry up then. His roommate scolds. You’re hurt, you need the infirmary even if I have to dump you in Doc Darren’s lap. Dammit, do I have to put a sign on you saying you’re waiting for me for people to leave you alone for one second?

The authorities are already coming for him. What kind of memory does he want to leave behind?  

 The least he could do is repay the kindnesses he’d been offered while he was here.

A low moan leaving him, John pushes off the door and gets to his feet. The door slams open behind him, almost smacking John in the back. He turns and blinks. “Huh?” 

Chapter Text

Blyke is framed in the doorway. He’s sweating, and aura sparks out of him in receding waves. “John!” He exclaims. His fist is raised, as if to…

Pound against the door. Huh.

Vaguely, John clocks that he is somewhat lightheaded.

He coughs. “Um, hi?” He gives what he hopes looks like a smile. He’s probably failing, but the effort at least helps. “What did you need?”

That takes Blyke’s face from a distressed frown to a full-on scowl. “Dammit, it's not time to screw around! First you come back from- ugh,” His roommate pinches his forehead. “Look, man, let’s go, I’ll yell at you on the way there.”

John is still in the uniform set  he was wearing yesterday, which are blood stained in the torso and around the jacket sleeves. It’s probably in bad taste.

It’s in worse taste to be late, though. 

So John simply nods and follows Blyke. As they exit the dorm, he starts talking, “Look, man, sorry-,”

Blyke explodes, “Sorry? You go missing in the middle of the day and don’t even show up for literature. Then I show up to my Safe House shift - to relieve you, mind you - and nobody is the f*ck there. Then I call you, but of course you left your goddamn cell phone at the dorm, you idiot-,”

He takes all of it, all of the anger, as they walk to campus. As Blyke rants, he works himself up, aura first roiling, then spitting as he stomps along, sparks coming off him. 

John deserves it, of course, so he doesn’t walk farther behind. He can tell Blyke’s gesturing energetically; his shoulders and back are shaking with it, after all, and occasionally his gestures come into view as they walk. He’s trying to focus on what Blyke is actually saying, too, but his ears keep fuzzing out, and he keeps checking the ground to be sure his feet are hitting the floor in even steps. He can’t quite feel them, after all. 

It’s not good. If he gets caught not listening, he’s not sure what Blyke will do. He's thinking about that as they march into one of the school buildings, and Blyke’s still going off. He’s worked himself out, somewhat, aura no longer frothing with his emotions. “Still nothing from you even after everything, and I woke up this morning and your room was still empty. So I used the extra time I had after breakfast to go find you in the infirmary.” Blyke tangles his hands in his hair. “Honestly, it’s like-like- John!” He growls with frustration. “Are you even listening? Say something, goddamnit!”

John isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say. What the right thing is. Suddenly, it’s the beginning of the year again, and John hasn’t a clue what to say to him. “I should’ve done better. I know that.” He almost goes to explain himself further but then hesitates. He doesn’t have the right to make excuses. He should know that already. 

John doesn’t know when he got so greedy. 

Blyke turns back to look at him, scowl set on his face. “You- urgh! Well, I won’t make you repeat it all, I guess.”  

“Repeat?” John parrots dumbly.

Blyke turns back to face forward. John slowly realizes that he’s been led into a lobby area. “The Headmaster’s waiting for us.” Blyke says. “He wanted to talk about what happened.” Blyke turns his back on John. “And I want some answers, too.”

Chapter Text

It’s not a moment later that Vaughn is calling them in. John can feel his hands shaking.

The authorities are here for him, huh.

Surprisingly, Blyke follows John into the office. As John glances around, he notices several chairs are arranged on the near side of the headmaster’s desk. Two of them are free; one for Blyke and another for John, he supposes.

What really surprises him is the other three present. Remi perches on the edge of her seat, feet lightly tapping on the floor. Sera sits back, phone clutched in hand, a casual, devil-may-care attitude projected for all the world to see.

A flare of her aura once she glances up and spots John, leaving the world back in motion and her phone tucked away, almost makes him laugh. She’s not usually the type to try to save face. 

Arlo is sitting in a fifth seat, his posture upright. It’s honestly neither here nor there; John has never seen the guy fully relax.  

Remi, Sera, and Arlo are here. But where are the authorities? 

Vaughn gestures at them. “Come in, boys, sit down. Blyke, thanks for grabbing him.” He fixes his serious gaze on John. “John. You’re late.”

He flicks a glance around. So they really were doing this. “Sir, I’m sorry. I returned to the dormitory after Doc released me. I decided to rest there for some time before getting ready to return to classes.”

The headmaster surveyed him, pausing before giving his response. “You sure gave us a scare. I understand that yesterday was quite a chaotic day for you all.”

John glances around. Is he- what is the Headmaster trying to do? “Sir, it’ll never happen again. Per our agreement-,”

He’s cut off by the Headmaster’s raised hand and quelling tone. “John.” He shuts it, sinking back into the chair. “I agreed to permit you to deceive the school. Your deception has ended; and besides, it seems it may have overstayed its welcome.” 

John glances around again. He doesn’t want to meet the headmaster’s eyes. Arlo is clearly ticked off, but doesn’t say a word. Remi, Sera, and Blyke are paying close attention, however. “Sir. I don’t-,” he cuts himself off.

He doesn’t see another option. He can’t tell them. He can’t make excuses. He can’t get out.

The headmaster smoothly moves forward. “This incident will be handled as an internal matter within the school. However, that does mean that such a situation cannot repeat.” He sternly adds, his gaze sweeping across the room. “Multiple elite tier students were hospitalized. Excessive violence and lack of order within the highest ranks will not be tolerated. You will discuss now, amongst each other, and resolve whatever remains, for the sake of the school.”

Hanging his head, John nods. But he’s still stuck on that first sentence. “Sir… the authorities will not be…”,

Vaughn leaned back. “Ah, yes. Hm, you spent time with them after your last school, correct?”

John burns with embarrassment. He doesn’t need to look to feel Remi, Blyke and Sera’s gazes on him. He does glance up at Arlo, who has a look of what could only be described as sheer disgust upon his face. 

Vaughn continues, “No, their involvement will not be necessary for a schoolyard squabble.” He chuckles. “You’re mature, aren’t you?” Vaughn waves his hand. “Go on, then.” He rises to his feet and shuffles towards the door. ”I’ll leave you children to discuss, then. Mind you, Mr. Keene or myself will be waiting nearby in case you all cannot control yourselves. I expect great things from you all.” He leaves, door clattering shut behind him. 

The red haired man yelled, You your position! That’s why nobody wanted to follow you. From the start, you were violent and out of control! He leaves, door clattering shut behind him. As he goes, he calls a recrimination, and begins a command to think over what’s been done. 

Blyke starts in, a confused tone to his voice. “Dude, you ended up in the infirmary. I’ve never seen you like that before, and that’s without you apparently having an ability you never told us about. What the hell-,”

Arlo cut in, “Careful.” He sighs, saying, “You… defeated me… in front of everyone, no less. You are the rightful King. You will need to show people their place and enforce hierarchy.” Scoffing, he continues. “I won’t let you run Wellston into the ground, and I won’t let you run away any longer.”

John mutters, “You can keep your stupid throne. I don’t want it.” 

“Do you hear yourself? You sound like a child.” Arlo barks out a laugh of disbelief. His tone is light, almost wondering and the sheer audacity that he seems to think John has. 

Blyke’s attention ping pongs between them both. Remi’s screwing up her face with anger. But she’s not fast enough to act before what happens next.

Seraphina flashes from the side of the room where she’s reclining to stand before Arlo. When she lets her aura lapse, her eyes remain lit with blue light. Arlo’s face is red, and he raises his hand to touch where she’d slapped him. “I already warned you before about hurting him, Arlo. If you’ve become rebellious, then I will show you your place.” 

She really still saw John that way? As someone she should protect? 

After everything? 

It seemed that - just like Adrion - Sera was too kind.

Arlo replies coldly, “I did what was necessary to preserve order as King. Your buddy here presented a threat to hierarchy, so I made an example of him. If you wanted me to seek your approval, you should have remained as Queen.” 

“Arlo.” John says, “You can’t pick and choose who to listen to. By your rules, Sera,” He stutters over her name. He’s not sure if he has the right anymore.

A glance over at her, and the expectant look in her eyes goads him into barreling on. He won’t give this bastard anything more to tear into. “Sera can do whatever the hell she damn pleases. You should bow beneath her feet, you piece of-,”

“John.” Remi says. It’s enough to take the wind out of him entirely. She turns to Arlo. “Arlo, I’ve never understood why you’re like this. John never hurt anyone. He could’ve destroyed you whenever he wanted. He let you be. You knew that. So why?” Her voice breaks on the last word, with the pain.

Maybe… he didn’t screw everything up. Maybe Remi doesn’t hate him. Maybe Remi would even still like to be friends.

Monster, says the red-eyed girl. Her face is bruised, but she is still glaring with defiance. She collapses to the floor once punched, just like all the others.

John’s been getting greedy. He can’t let himself relax.

“Did it make anything better, for Seraphina to remove herself from the hierarchy? No. Everyone is more uncertain, because she’s gotten unpredictable and abandoned her responsibilities. Remi, I’d go along if your plans were enough. But you’re being naive.” Arlo shook his head. “John, you can’t have your cake and eat it too. Enforcing order where you want while excusing yourself from all of the other duties of a Royal… tch!” He scoffs. “Such selfishness. If you’re reckless, then learn to control yourself. It’s as simple as that.” 

John says lowly, “I won’t be a Royal. It’s not selfishness. It’s the farthest thing.” Finally, he lifts his gaze from his lap, and stares Arlo in the eye. “I don’t owe you or your stupid system sh*t. I’d replace your sorry a** in a heartbeat.” 

Remi stands, crossing the room to stand behind John. “Arlo, when John asked me about you, I defended you. I always thought you wanted the best for Wellston, and for everyone.” She pauses, rubbing at her arm. “You’re my friend, and I don’t want to give up on you. But that also means I won’t hold back. If you’re being crazy, that means I need to stop you.” As she speaks, her aura crackles to life, coursing through her body and pooling at her fists. Lightning sparks around her, and her eyes glow bright red. “I won’t back down!”

“Remi, that’s absurd.” Arlo groans. “I won’t fight you, not on this. Stand down.” 

The red-eyed girl glares at him, tears streaming from her face. Monster. She’s felled with a punch. 

It occurs to John that Claire couldn’t stand up for herself. She hadn’t been able to before everything happened, and she hadn’t been able to from him. She couldn’t even choose when to activate her own ability, and once she passed on the information, there was no knowing what someone would do with it. That was why she had used him, then the Jack right after. Desperately grabbing for power, she had sought the strongest people she could find, then manipulated them to seize control. 

But he’s sure that no matter how crazy he’s being, Remi would call him out. She would say as much to his face, no matter the consequences. She wouldn’t let a monster keep attacking everyone, even if it were her friend. She would fight.

And he also thinks… she wouldn’t give up on him. She would fight him, but she would also fight for him. She would always see her friend “John” in the monster. She would never stop trying to find him, her friend, within him, the monster. And she would forgive him, if need be. 

Let me help you, the red-eyed girl says. She reaches her hand out. 

He turns to look at Remi, who is still standing behind him. 

He can’t keep letting Claire that traitor hold him back. Remi is the one who is here with him right now. 

And if he’s truly honest, he already trusts her - and Sera and even Blyke a bit - with his back. 

John closes his eyes, then takes a deep breath. “Arlo.”

Arlo turns back to face him. “Finally ready to take responsibility?” He sneers.

“Yes.” John says.

He almost feels as if he’s floating out of his body.

“I didn’t do anything to screw up the school’s hierarchy. Sera needed help, so I did what I could.” He lights his eyes with aura, and hears Blyke and Remi gasp. “And I’ll fight for that. You had a bone to pick with me, and that’s fine. But you should’ve stopped when the Safe House members came. They didn’t- all they wanted to get me out of there. You don’t get to pretend you were just trying to help stabilize the school.” John swallows. “Ever since we started the Safe House, everything’s been getting better. It’s not my fault if that does more for the school than anything you’ve ever built.” It’s easier to keep the aura flowing, but he lets it subside somewhat, dimming the glow in his eyes.

The room goes silent. For once, John’s ears are not buzzing at all. 

Behind him, behind him, Blyke and Remi share distraught looks. 

As usual, Sera’s tone is measured as she speaks. “John, you’re not in trouble.” She smiles at him, blue eyes scrunched up. “Like I’ve told you, Arlo’s a busybody and a sneak. You defended yourself and the Safe House too.” She nods. “Evie said she and Dylan heard about you going off campus with Arlo. She managed to convince Meili to tell them where Arlo might have taken you. It was everyone’s choice to go there.” Now she frowns. “I’ve never known you to just take it lying down, John. But that’s all you’ve been doing all this time, apparently. I just want to know why.”

It stings to hear these words. John knows he deserves them; he had pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes, pulled wool over the monster in hopes of wearing a sheep’s cloak. 

Late bloomers are destined to fail. 

But it’s Sera asking. He ignores Arlo, because the boy can’t possibly do any worse than he’s already done. “I wasn’t born strong. I’m not like you all. I’m not… strong enough to handle it.” He stresses. “I hate standing out. I’m not meant to be a leader. I just,” He rubs his eyes. “Well, I’m terrible at standing down. Always have been, even when I was too weak to achieve anything.” Tapping his fingers against the inside of his wrist, he continues thoughtfully, “Entering the hierarchy means dealing with constant challenges; everybody who recently got a bit of a power boost thinks they’ll be the next person to become a high tier. Or they forget what it’s like to feel the pain of defeat. You all know that.” 

John sweeps his gaze across the room. It alights on Blyke, who is nodding along, then to Sera, whose full attention is on John, and finally on Arlo, behind her. For the first time, the other boy isn’t scowling. John continues, “If I let myself use my ability, at some point, my self control would run out.” He leaves out the hallucinations and flashbacks that attack him daily. He can handle those on his own. “But if I lived as a cripple, then it becomes just another sparring match. No matter how many injuries I walk away with, I know I have to protect the secret. And it’s not like I don’t have the pain endurance to spare.” He shrugs.

John turns from Remi to face them all. Arlo has quieted, occasionally glancing between John and Remi, behind him. Then he rubs his eyes, and says, a defeated tone to his voice, “You were a late bloomer, weren’t you?”

John flinches. 

Late bloomers are destined to fail.

He doesn’t say anything. 

 Arlo rubs his face again. “You don't even know what it means to be a high tier, do you. Did no one teach you?”

John shoots back, “My dad helped me just fine.”

“Your dad… the cripple? If that wasn’t another lie.” Arlo accuses, brow raised. Behind them, Blyke reacts with a muffled gasp. 

Honestly, John doesn’t know why he told Arlo a single truth back then. 

The blond King sits across from him. He looks strange, sitting up straight with perfect posture in Woaba Boba’s low benches. 

What a crappy deception. He can’t manage to look relaxed for one moment. John doesn’t know how anyone could see anything but a predator in this guy. 

Still. He sips at his boba. You never know. He had never expected to become so close with Sera. He’ll give the guy a chance. And if at the end, he’s crushed, at least he won’t have been blindsided. 

Sighing, John says as much. “I never lied to you, Arlo. Well, I knew you were lying.” Watching Arlo double take, John snickers before he continues. “Yeah. The order-obsessed King, desperate to drag Sera back into the hierarchy, wants to befriend the cripple who convinced her to leave it? You weren’t subtle.”  

“Then,” Arlo swallows. John hesitates to call it a display of nerves, but what else could it be? “You let me continue.” 

“Yes.” John shrugs again. “You aren’t the first person who’s betrayed me.” For a moment, his eyes shine even brighter, and dark wisps of aura peel off him. He sees none of it. 

Arlo pinches his nose. He looks between John and Remi, hovering right at his shoulder. “Fine, then. If you lack control, I’ll teach it to you.” He almost says something else, but shuts his mouth.

A laugh escapes John before he can even finish talking. “You? Let’s be clear, Arlo. I would crush you.”

Sera chimes in, “Think you could take me?” John snaps to look at her. “What?” Playfully pouting, she goads him on. “It’s only natural to be curious.”

Blyke and Remi are looking at him too. John thinks… Sera is powerful, but he’s only gotten short glimpses of her aura. Now, with his ability active, he can see the swirling mass of aura she’s collected. 

He… “Might outstrip mine.” John mumbles. “It’d be a pretty even fight.”

Blyke jumps in, “Hey, then let’s all help out!” He’s got an excited grin on his face. “Man, I can’t wait! It’ll be so cool to spar with you!” 

Remi adds her assent. With them all looking at him expectantly, he can’t possibly refuse the offer. Even if it comes from Arlo.  

He’s not sure if he wants to fight them. Not Sera, kind as Adrion, or Arlo, as traitorous as Claire. Not Remi, who has those same eyes that haunt his nightmares.

Monster.

Late bloomers are destined to fail.

Some things never change. But that’s the attitude John had come to Wellston with, and yet he’d been proven wrong, time and time again. Sera had left the hierarchy. He’d become friends with Remi, even as a cripple. And with her help, they’d created the Safe House, which had been a game-changer for so many.

He smiles, helpless against three of the best friends he’s ever had and the opportunity to kick someone’s ass with permission. “Alright. But Arlo, don’t think I’ll go easy on you.”

Arlo smirks. “I look forward to it.”

Chapter Text

They’re dismissed with a simple wave of Vaughn’s hand and reminders that none of this need get back to the authorities, especially if nothing approaching a repeat incident ever comes to pass.

Arlo stalks off, first out of the office, ahead of Seraphina, ahead of Remi and Blyke, ahead of John. He does not look back at any of them. He only pauses to say, “I’ll be in touch,” before taking his exit. 

Hah. For John, what Arlo had just done upended everything he’d worked for for close to a year. For Arlo, it was just another Tuesday. It figured.  

For her part, Sera steps past Blyke to clap John’s shoulder. “I’m gonna go eat. Catch me on the rooftop if you like. I think I found a new game you might like.” With that, she spins on her heel and leaves, strolling away easy and slow.

Remi watches them go, then turns to John. “I’m sorry you had to deal with Arlo alone… things never should’ve gotten to that point.” She balls her hand into a fist, looking down at it. “You both are my friends. I should’ve known.” 

He gives her a smile. “Remi, you don’t need to apologize for that jerk.” People are who they are, after all. Whether they be monsters, victims, or heroes… John’s still not sure that there’s any changing that. “Besides, I knew what I was getting into. I made a bad bet, is all.” 

Blyke elbows him, lighter than he’s ever done before. “You don’t have to play it cool, you know. I’d be pissed as hell if someone dragged me out for minding my own business.” His roommate sighs, dragging his hand through his hair, finally looking back at John with a wry smile. “Though I gotta say, can’t believe someone else is the one dragging you into sh*t for once, John.”

The girl glares, unflinching, accusing. 

John shrugs. “What can I tell you? Stupid is as stupid does.”

Remi attempts to frown and scold him, but they can both see the laugh fighting to escape her mouth at the edges, and she knows it. That sets Blyke off laughing, and John can’t help but start chuckling too. Especially when she crosses her arms and levels that glare at them. 

Remi triumphantly hurries over to their table, a slice of chocolate cake in tow. When Blyke asks how she’d managed to get a slice of the heavenly substance, after arriving later to lunch than John had, Remi cheerfully relates how she’d shaken Arlo down for his. Isen snorts at the image of it, and they all dig in. 

When John’s phone dings with a message, he pulls it out right away. After checking it, he makes his excuses and carries his tray up to the roof. She’s usually in class right now. But it’s the rare day where Sera skips, and he won’t miss it. 

After composing himself, Blyke snorts, “C’mon, Remi. Just ‘cuz the Safe House looks up to you doesn’t mean you can’t agree with the truth when you hear it.” 

“Oh, you bet he’s never hearing the end of this from me! He really went and embraced his inner Asslo.” She crosses her arms, fake frown deepening into something real.

Holy sh*t, that’s actually gold. 

Turning to John, Blyke says, "Somehow, what actually happened was worse than what Remi and Dylan told me. At least we can get Arlo’s head screwed on straight now.”

Late bloomers are destined to fail.

Some things never change. Some people can never be more than they are. Monsters aren’t the same as humans, after all. 

Blyke’s saying, “-was talking about. Does he know something we don’t?”

Remi’s looking between the two, chewing her lip. “Actually, I also wanted to know. You don’t have to tell us everything, of course. But the more we know, the more we can help you.”

Let me help you. 

My associates will just have to make you learn your place. 

He stumbles back a bit. Clenching his fist, the sting of nails digging into skin brings him back to the present. “That’s alright.” He gives them the best smile he can summon up, and hopes they buy it.

Blyke follows him, stepping forward. “Hey, man, are you okay?”

Remi presses, “You should go back to the infirmary! When did Doc let you go, anyway?” They exchanged worried glances.

Digging his nails deeper, he agrees, “Yeah. Sure.”

Blyke frowns, “I mean it. You gotta go. I’m sure he’ll want to check you over again… and you know he’ll give you hell if you don’t see him at some point today.” 

Remi laughs. “That’s… a good idea. Hey, you can have my maths notes later, just ask when you want them.” She glances over to Blyke. “And you guys would have lit next, right? Go ahead! If you hurry, you won’t miss that much of class.” 

“…okay, yeah, I’ll go.” John mumbles, knowing he will absolutely not go to visit Doc. After all, the man had discharged him that morning, so he wouldn’t even hear an earful about it from the man himself the next time he went over to the infirmary. Still, they won’t be satisfied unless they see him agree, so he heads off in the direction they’ll expect.

He doesn’t know what he’d expected when Blyke and Remi found out. That’s a lie too, actually; he knows perfectly well what he’d expected. Accusations. Anger. Abandonment. They would’ve been right to do it; John knows best of anyone how terrifying it is to realize you never knew someone at all. 

They are acting different. John just can’t make sense of why.  

Chapter Text

Instead of going to Doc’s, John takes the stairs up to the roof. 

He drags his feet on every step up, taking them one at a time instead of his usual two. After all,  awaiting him is Sera. Of anyone, she knows best the kind of pressures John crumbled under, and yet beneath them all the same, became diamond, not the coal that John is, already set ablaze and spent. 

Then again, it’s lunchtime. John always goes up to the roof to eat. There’s no sense in breaking routine, he tells himself. 

It’s not like he doesn’t know she’s upset. 

John, what’s the meaning of any of this? The Sera in his mind’s eye demands. And still now, you don’t answer me?

Yet the most emotion he’d seen from her since he’d woken up in the infirmary was the absolute rage Arlo and his comments had invoked. And honestly, that was just more of the usual, anger peaking though it may be. But for him, all she seemed to have was this eerie resignation. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

Sure enough, when he pushes open the door, she’s sat there in their usual spot, casual as you please, one leg sprawled out before her. He pauses there at the door, before venturing, “Sera?” 

She looks up. “John. I thought Remi would keep you for longer.” 

It's the same even tone and slight smile she‘s always had for him, so he dares to walk towards her, sitting down criss-cross in front of her, instead of his usual spot at her side. “She told me to go see Doc, get checked up again.” He smiles, despite himself. He doesn’t know what he expected from Remi. 

But there’s no way he’s truly, actually this lucky.

Sera ducks her head, huffing out a laugh. “I think Doc would think it’s a miracle if you’d show up. I’m sure he gave up on seeing you anytime soon once he let you go.” She looks back up at him, her piercing gaze examining him head to toe, contemplative. “It is a miracle, though. Remi wanted to take you to the hospital yesterday, you know.”

John winces. “It looked worse than it was.”

“Sure it did. If it was as bad as it looked, you wouldn’t have been moving, at the end.” She sighs, setting her phone down and crossing her arms. “So are you going to start using your ability, now?”

He looks away from her, rubbing his arm. “I don’t think I need to. Nothing has to change.”

“Why not?” She nudges him, then waits to continue until he looks over at her. When their eyes meet, she continues, “You always used to complain about dealing with the threat of violence everywhere you go. But you don’t actually have to.” She tips her head to the side, squinting at him before speaking again. “You… do know that, right?”

He sighs. These past couple days have scraped him raw, til he thinks he cannot give any more. Yet, who is he to deny Sera, or Blyke, or Remi? Every time he tries to explain, the words come out different. He’s not sure that there is a right way to explain… well, himself. He sighs, saying, “You know it doesn’t make anything easier, right?” 

Sera pauses. His words sit between the two of them as she reflects. Of everyone, Sera would know. Just how unbearable life at the very top can be… even when you aren’t doomed to fail from your very nature.

Finally, she relents. “Yeah, I know. At least the low tiers have fun.”  

“We have fun.” He insists.

“Yeah. We do.” She smiles, her eyes crinkling with it. Every slight expression on her face seems to completely transform it. Last year, he’d thought he’d get used to it. It hasn’t happened yet.

Her smile fades as quick as it’d come. “But you can’t go back, either. No one will simply forget about what happened.”

 “No, I didn’t think so.” John’s well and truly dug himself into a pile of sh*t. “Damn it! Screw the rest of them!” 

“Is this really how you want to live, though?” Her stare bores into him as she presses on, “You’re the one who told me that I should live the way I want. When was the last time you asked yourself what that looks like?”

He sucks a breath in, reflexively shaking his head. She’s wrong, so wrong his body knows it before he can even think. He’s been greedy. He’s made so many mistakes. He’s… completely unforgivable. 

“Right.” Her voice cuts through the swarm of thoughts running rampant in his brain. She’s leaned back against the wall, somehow still looking down at him. “Stubborn as ever. Well, I’m not going anywhere.” 

He slides over to sit next to her. “You were gonna show me a game?”

She grabs her phone in a flash and starts talking, pulling up an app as she goes. “Yup! So it’s called Slappy Pig…”

Chapter Text

When they head down from the roof, Sera follows him down at her usual leisurely pace. He’s halfway down the first set of stairs when her aura floods the stairwell. When he turns to face her, she’s still standing where she was behind him.

“Hey. You made me a promise in front of everybody, you know.” With her eyes narrowed as she stares down at him, shining bright blue, and the sly smirk splashed across her face, he almost feels the need to take a step aback.

That would be stupid. He glances back down at the stairwell behind him, then back up at her. “What exactly?” But as soon as he’d finished speaking, she was gone. 

“You promised me a fight.” She’s behind him now, standing on the landing. He spins to face her, and has to step down with one foot to keep his balance. “But I don’t really feel like it.”

“Okay?” He raises his hands in surrender, because aura is still swirling through her and he has no clue where this is going. “Great! Sounds like we’re on the same page.”

She moves, just ever so slightly. Except now she’s got his phone in hand.

Which was just in his pocket a second ago… he closes his eyes, sucking a breath in. “Sera?”

She shifts her weight to one leg, resting one hand on her cocked hip and the other remaining at her side. “Wanna race me? I’ll get you a new high score in Crossy Pig if you do.”

Her aura flares into overdrive again, and as she approaches, his own reflexively flickers on. 

Monster. 

A bloodied blond boy lies broken on the ground. 

Curled up in bed, he taps away at his phone, then clicks it off and turns it over. It vibrates almost instantly. He grabs it. His finger pauses over the lock screen.  

In the time it takes him to decide what to do, blinking the golden glow out of his eyes, slowing the flow through his channels to a halt, she’s already returned to the landing. He looks back at her. His phone’s wedged back in his pocket, and she’s got her back to him, already taking up a runner-ready stance.

As if she’s already won. 

Bodies lie scattered across the barren field. 

So many students, leaping forth to fight. 

So many students, lying on the floor. They’re bleeding, or their bones are broken, or they’re barely breathing. 

Before he can think, he’s shaking his head. “No, I…,”

Her voice is level, as if what she isn’t proposing isn’t any more of a big deal than skipping class. “We get to have fun, right?”

He grits his teeth. “And you say I’m stubborn. This is-,”

“A game. With your best friend. I’m ready whenever you are.” She shifts her weight again, aura swirling at the ready but not yet leaping into motion. 

A call comes through, carrying a voice he never thought he’d hear again. 

She won’t let him leave without going through with it, will she? Sera is stubborn. She’s not used to not getting her way, even when it’s with him. 

After a sharp, quick breath, he activates his ability, modeling the familiar shape of hers. He leaps onto the landing, blowing past her, then breaking into a run.  

He’s used her ability in short bursts before, so John isn’t entirely unfamiliar with how to manipulate time. Seeing the world speed by like this, however, is completely different from what he’s done with it before. Instead of the absolute stillness, the absolute control exerted over everything, this time, it’s messy. It’s a rush, hurtling through the school at the pace of a bullet. He barely feels the shock of his feet making contact with each landing, instead distracted with how Sera dives from behind him through the center of the staircase, aura trailing her like the tail of a comet. 

By the time he reaches the bottom of the stairwell, all that’s left are cracks spiderwebbing out from the point she's impacted the floor. The fine debris still littering the floor flies up into a dust cloud in his wake as he pivots. The rush in his ears drowns out any thoughts that could possibly try to bubble up to the surface as he gives chase, following the trail of her aura and her enormous energy signature as it twists through the halls of Wellston. 

When he spots her again, he almost misses a step. Aura curls around her ankle… like she’d just healed up? He hollers, “TOO SLOW!”, the sight of her driving him forward, closer and closer.

 She looks back to him, each movement slightly disjointed from what came before it, like a poorly animated TV show. Her eyes widen, and she reflexively replies, “You didn’t lose my trail?”, every other syllable lost to the time stagger between them.

Ah. John doesn’t think he’s faster than her. Not with this ability he was struggling to amp at all, not with this ability she devoted her life to training. 

Despite the gaps, he thinks he knows what she said. He screams back, “You betcha! Sera, no way I’ll lose!” 

As she passes through the entryway ahead, emerging out into the courtyard, in her wake, papers fly and the floor cracks where she’d stepped. As he dogs her feet, he does what he does best; changes the script. Stretching his arm out towards her, he freezes the area right in front of her, then throws himself even harder into his run as she stumbles over her second step. 

He laughs aloud, a wild thing, and nobody can hear it as he draws ever nearer. Just behind Sera, the resistance is ever-thicker, and he burns aura through his channels ever-harsher, pushing through to match her. There’s no one in this world but them, and now that he’s broken through her wall, her laugh is clear to hear. She crows, “There you are! You always find a way to turn the tables, huh?” Her words come through clear, unfiltered as she’s matching his speed. 

He can’t remember the last time he felt like this. Eyes blazing, aura rushing through him, and not a shred of fear, anger, or sadness in him.

She can be pretty crafty, too, when she cares to be. 

Chapter Text

Sera doesn’t manage to lose him again, try as she might. She leads him all the way to the dorms, the wind chasing them as they run, carving through campus as their little pocket of time passes everybody by. They hardly notice, John too busy throwing cheap shots, Sera too focused on dodging and breaking through whatever he throws at her.

They stumble to a stop after he trails her back to the main campus, the both of them panting with the thrill of the chase. He dogs her every step, right till the end, when she twists around and freezes him. He’s so startled that at first he doesn’t even try to break through, and by the time he does, she’s leaned against the outside of one of the school buildings, panting breaths escaping her in real time, her aura signature receding, dimming, slowing. Shining brightly in its place is Seraphina herself, smiling wildly like he’s never seen before, exhilaration and effort leaving her flushed and sweaty. Her hair is disheveled, cascading down her shoulders and pooling where the sleeves of her uniform jacket have fallen down to her elbows. Messy, unfettered… free.

Some things do change. Seeing Sera come into her own like this is the best of them. 

She’s the first one to recover, harsh breaths settling into an even cadence before she speaks. “You’ve really been holding out on me. I haven’t had a race like that in… ages.” 

“I’ve never had that much fun with my ability.” He admits.

It’s true. There’s never been a time no one got hurt. Not that he can think of.   

“So you’d do it again?” She doesn’t stop making eye contact with him, even as she pushes herself up from where she’d been stabilizing herself on her knees to fully stand. 

“Don’t push your luck.” He scoffs. He glances up at the buildings around them, noticing faces crowded around, peering down at them through the windows. She follows his gaze. “Hey, John?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s get out of here.” She says with a smile, jabbing her thumb in the direction of the gated. 

“Gladly.” He brushes himself off, then follows her lead. 

Sera drags John around for the rest of the day, bragging about her win and shaming him for his secrets every time he begins to complain. They skip class. They go to the mall, her needling him every time he complains about entering another store. Eventually, the day has to end. They're walking back to the dorm, him watching her play Slappy Pig when he finally gets up the courage to speak. 

“Sera, aren’t you mad?”

 She flinches, then her aura roars back to life. Just a blip, and then her phone is turned off, stowed away in her pocket, and her gaze returns to him, unmoving.  “Mad about what?”

He swallows the fear that’s begun to rise again in his throat and continues, “Mad at me. I lied to you.” These thoughts have been weighing on him all day, curling heavy on his shoulders.  

Seraphina slows to match his pace. “Well, I was surprised,” she drawls. “But then I had some time to think about it. You’ve never made much sense, you know.”

“Hey!” He swats her with a brush of his fingers.

She shrugs. “It’s true.” She starts ticking things off on her hand. “Your grades aren’t even close to mine, even though you weren’t strong enough to get in based on your status. You got into fights for the sake of people who were stronger than you, and got away with it half the time. And even though you’re the one who stuck your nose in someone else’s business, you still complained about getting hurt. And you never asked for help.”

He can’t deny any of that. He just watches her, as she goes from casual recitation of the facts of his time at Wellston to contemplating, staring up into the sky as she thinks. 

“You were someone who lived outside of the hierarchy. Who just does as he pleases, and then connives a way to avoid taking responsibility.” 

“Jeez, Sera. Harsh much?” There’s a sick feeling in his gut and a tightness in his chest, now. He doesn’t want her to keep talking. 

“Hush, now,” she scolds. “You asked. And besides, I’m not finished.” That slow, even quality returns to her voice. “Nothing about you ever made sense to me. Every day has been something new, something I never could’ve expected.” She holds her hands out in front of her, each word coming slower and slower. “I thought I knew what would come next. But lately? Well, where’s the fun in that?” She turns back to him, crossing her arms, glaring up at him. “I’ve heard enough for now, so it’s alright. I know from experience exactly how annoying Arlo can be, even for people as strong as you and me, so I already gave him a stern warning. But I don’t like liars, and I don’t like being left behind. So don’t make me come find you broken on the ground again.” 

Every word quiets the churning in his stomach, and he’s able to breathe just that bit more deeply. All he can do is laugh, dragging one hand through his hair across his head. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I won’t be looking for any fights anytime soon.” He starts walking again, continuing down the path to the dorm looming ahead of them. “Thanks, Sera.”

When he arrives back in the dorm, he’s greeted with a familiar sight: Blyke, sat in the common area, school materials scattered around him. He perks to attention when the door closes behind John. “John! Did you end up going to see Doc?” His friend spins to face him, arms crossed. “Everyone at the Safe House was talking about you and Seraphina.”

John shrugs. “I was fine, you two worry too much. Doc saw me before I came back to the dorm this morning. And Sera’s more stubborn than Remi when it comes down to it.” 

Blyke huffs. “Man, I can’t believe I missed seeing you use your ability again.” 

John can’t help but frown at him. “Trust me, that’s a good thing.” 

Blyke speeds through his next sentence. “I mean, it’s cool if you don’t want to use it! No pressure, man. You made yourself clear back in Vaughn’s office.” Blyke leans back in his chair, twirling his pen in hand. “I guess you don’t really need it to kick ass.”  

Broken and bloody, John lies on the dusty, barren ground. Only now that he is no longer being pummeled does he sense the flood of auras that have taken the field. 

“So everyone at the Safe House is okay, then?” 

A blond boy is curled up on the barren ground. A golden barrier closes in around the boy.

A blond boy falls to the barren ground. Scratched up and bleeding, he lies on the ground, unmoving.   

He hadn’t seen Dylan, or anyone, in the infirmary. Just Arlo, that other asshole, and the visitors. 

“Well, we gave Doc a bit of a hard time, but between Elaine, that freshman Heath, and Doc’s potions, everybody except you was back to normal before school ended.” Blyke frowns as he talks. “It could’ve been worse, for sure.”

So many students, lying on the floor. They’re bleeding, or their bones are broken, or they’re barely breathing. 

The freshman healer darts around, healing injuries the best he can as Safe House students crowd together, backing off the fight once John hauled himself to his feet. 

“Yes.” John rasps. “It could have been. Why did they come out to help me? Why-,”

Blyke interrupts John with a scoff. “Are you really surprised?” He drops the pen onto the desk. “A lot of them thought it was a grand adventure, I think.” His roommate rolls his eyes. 

John scowls. “It wasn’t their fight! I can handle-,”

Now Blyke frowns, rising to his feet. “It took you a full day, even with Doc’s tonics, to recover from that!” 

“Who cares?” John demands. “If nobody had showed up, I wouldn’t have used my ability. It would’ve ended there. It was fine.” 

Blyke stares at him for a moment. He opens his mouth, closes it. He rubs his eyes with his palms, then goes back to staring. 

Monster.

John keeps talking before Blyke can come up with something to say. “Seriously. I’m the one who signed up to fight people off. I’ve done just fine the last year, haven’t I? So I wasn’t cautious enough and paid the price. It. Happens.” 

Blyke heaves a sigh. “Okay. Anyway, want to study with me? I didn’t see you at literature today.” He digs into his school bag, grabbing some pages. “Remi went home, something about a family emergency. But she gave me the maths notes before she left.” 

John drags himself over to stand behind Blyke at the stacks of schoolwork. “C’mon, couldn’t it have waited?” 

Blyke smirks at him. “Nah, dude. Come on, sit down, take a look.” When John hesitates, he adds, “I’ll play cards after. Just don’t start asking before I’m done with the trig homework.”