Chapter Text
Jim wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gave a slight groan as the dirt smudge came out pink tingled. Bullies always had a field day going after him, but he had learned early on to think circles around them. Find an isolated, nice spot to bubble and let the boisterous kids cackle among their eager public. Keep your head down, do not stand out. Do. Not. Fight. Back.
Looks like it wasn't quite enough though.
He wiped the proof of his sorry encounter against his ill-fitted, off-white T-shirt. Courtesy of one or the other old lady from the parish this T-shirt. They often dropped old clothes from either sons or nephews for him and his father's use. Everyone pitied his father, a man drowning in alcoholism since the death of his wife, left alone to raise their only boy. 5 years old and already so much weighting down his little shoulders, they muttered above his head with compassionate looks. Jim, he did not pity the wreaked husk that was his father. Drifting each day closer, if not to his wife, at least to the resting place of her rotting body. He did pity himself, that had to bear the condescending sympathy of adults and the cruelty of the other children. Not that he cared much though.
It was not just or deserved, he knew. It just was like that and that was all. He had come to accept and be the awkward, quiet kid. His miserable birthright condemning him to the laughingstock. He would stay quietly on his own, making himself just hard enough to locate to discourage the annoying kids from going after him. That is, until Carl Powers showed up.
Carl was popular. Carl was a rising sport hope. Carl was vicious. And he had picked Jim as his prey. Where the kids would normally stop at jeers and nasty jokes, Carl would push and pull. He would raise Jim from his hiding spots to rough him up. He would go after what little he had and destroy it.
As Jim's eyes fell on the ruined library book, he felt something in his tiny soul crumble.
--
All Sebastian wanted to do with skiv off his English class and smoke in his spot, waiting for Tommy to get outta his class so they could ditch for the day and go fuck around in town. Not like he needed to be in that class anyway; Borston's class was a joke (he could ace it in his sleep) and the guy was so fuckin' scared of his father that Sebastian could probably away with murder. Really, it was all a load of bullshit. The problem with more than half the town being in his family's pocket was that it meant there wasn't any fun. No one pushed at him and if they did, his father fixed it so fast that it wasn't even enjoyable and then took the trouble out on him.
It fuckin' sucked and he couldn't wait to turn sixteen and get out of this shithole.
His day was just going from bad to worse. Not only was he gonna be waiting an hour for Tommy, but that goddamn Powers punk was in his spot. Again . He'd scared the little shit away last time, but apparently, he shoulda made the point with his fists (there was a reason they called him Basher) instead of his words. Hopefully the little shit would fuck off without much trouble, if he came home with blood on his clothes again his father'd beat'im blue. "Hey Powers!" He snapped, approaching the shaded area. It was the perfect spot, where two buildings met and there had once been a little decorative courtyard, not even five meters across. They'd boarded the entrance up because the custodial staff had gotten tired of cleaning the place up after it got trashed every break and it'd been locked up since before Sebastian had started school there. The main entrance was locked, secondary required slipping through a metal fence. Sebastian had the key because he'd bribed the head custodian with a few notes slipped from his father's wallet, but apparently Powers figured out how to get in through the fence and was now bringing his newest victims here to fuck with them.
Christ, how low could that fucker go? Had some little black-haired kid on his knees, his shit all spread over the ground. "Thought I told you to stay the fuck outta my space. Really gonna come back here? What, don't want anyone to see you beat down some little primary school kid?"
Carl was still new-ish in town, but even he was quick enough to know what family owned the place. Didn't stop the little fucker from opening his mouth though. "Just 'cause your da owns the town don't mean you do, little lord." Carl sneered.
"Piss off, Powers. Don't make me get my shirt dirty just to whoop you, you whore's son." He was really getting tempted though... He'd strip his shirt off and go at the little cunt but he wasn't dumb enough to show off his father's handiwork even in a secluded space like this.
Powers turned towards him completely now, his face reddened. That's the sore spot, Sebastian noted with a pleased expression. Shame the little fuck wasn't gonna take the hint and leave. Not that it'd matter, Sebastian had hit another growth spurt and was already rocketing up to a solid 168cm, a bit awkward in his limbs still but bulking up nicely at 14. They already said he'd be big once he got older. Powers was still a hell of a lot smaller than him, the primary school kid on the ground was even smaller and he could take the scrappy little fuck easy. "My mum ain't no whore, you fucking cunt!" His fists were balled, his face scrunched and angry.
"Both know that isn't true, been spreadin' her legs for my father since she started workin' for him." Bullseye (and the truth). Carl ran at him (idiot) and it was easy to trip him, shove him down. His boots were heavy and worn and he kicked him hard while he was down, making the eleven-year-old cry out. "Get the fuck outta here and stay out or next time I'll break your fuckin' arm, Powers. Say goodbye to that swimmin' scholarship, yeah?" A solid threat too, Sebastian was known for his surly attitude and his penchant to pick fights. He'd barely been saved from being shipped off to a military boarding school last fall, his mum saying to give him another chance.
God did that bring a smile to his face, watching him scurry off with his tail between his legs. He'd thought he was some tough shit since showing up that year, making friends with everyone and bragging about his mom and dad's jobs. Irritating. "And you," Sebastian turned back towards the pathetic looking kid. Christ, where did Powers scoop that one from? Boy couldn't be more than ten, and even that was pushing it. "Where'd he snag you from, huh? St. Mary's down the road?" The only primary school nearby, so it had to be there. "Go out through there," He nodded towards the now unlocked door, pulling a crumpled pack of stolen cigs from his pocket and a cheap lighter. "'N some nice teacher’ll take you back to your mum. Keep your fuckin' mouth shut 'bout all this or next time won't just be Powers on your ass."
--
Moran. Sebastian. Jim had gotten a few glimpses of the older boy. And marked him down as -probably not a threat if not crossed-. He was not eager to go right now for an in-depth update on the older student character after narrowly avoiding one row with Powers. He just gathered his littered things silently (-it did not take much time-) and made for the open grid. Moran's eyes had been on each of his movements, in a kind of bored disinterest. It only occurred to Jim after getting out of sight at last, that he ought to have pulled a show. Any one of his classmates would have had some kind of reaction. Uncontrollable sobbing or gratitude. Outright fear… He pulled a face. He needed to do better.
++
The first few weeks of middle school had been a nightmare. By the end of primary school, a teacher had noticed he was uncommonly bright, if apparently terribly shy about it. He had enrolled Jim in a national exam after convincing him under confidence that if he succeeded, he would be able to get into one of the best schools in the country without a fee to be covered. For once, Jim had had hopes to get out, and thrown caution and his deep-seated dissimulation instinct to the wind. He had passed with flying colors.
But then there had been the crashing delusion. His father had refused that he’d leave. His hand had clenched protectively around his wrist as he’d refused stubbornly every one of his teacher’s arguments. When both of them got home, he’d fallen to his knees in front of his son, hugged his frame and started sobbing disgustingly on his shoulder. 'Your mother would want us to stay together.' He had said. 'She would have wanted we took care of each other.' Jim had watched him go and slump in his armchair, as he was left standing in the hallway. Alone, bitter and disenchanted. Not only had this not gained him anything, but it had made things worse. The staff had heard of him and his results and singled him out, with the ridiculous conviction adults can sometime display, that make him shine would help him 'develop' as a child. They made him stand out and it took a lot of work from Jim to gain their disinterest once again. But it was a little too late, and only got Carl more fixed on making every minute of his life miserable.
++
Carl was afraid of Moran. It was a good thing to Jim, because it gave him one place Carl did not dare investigate too much when he was hunting him down, in case he ran into the other kid. Jim had to be careful though, because he did not care about having to be afraid of Moran too. As thing stood, it was easy to take a quick peek to check if the place was free before taking refuge in. After that, it was just a matter of being attentive to the tell-tale steps and clink of keys turning in the keyhole. He was fast on his feet, and his scrawny frame made it easy to squeeze between the planks supposedly closing the other side of the courtyard. Moran would have to jump them to get him, and that was hopefully more of an effort than he would be ready to go for, and enough of a delay if he did. But really, Jim just had to make sure not to be spotted to get the better of each world.
--
Someone was fucking with him. Sebastian wasn't stupid, he'd noticed the little things first. The scuff marks, the way some of the brush was moved... Then he'd shuffled in one day, slowly and a bit more quiet than normal. It had been a rough night, he'd gotten caught sneaking back into the house after slipping out after dark and his father had been waiting up for him. He'd used the signet rings like normal, the buckle end of the belt. Nothing that'd show when he wore his school uniform, though he was forced to keep the sleeves unrolled to hide the finger-sized bruises from where he'd grabbed him. He'd been up all night from the banger he'd slipped off to, then from the pain. He just wanted to try and catch a kip in the shade under the big old tree in the corner of the courtyard, nurse his wounds in private and daydream and plot his escape plan. One year, five months.
But when he'd gotten into the courtyard, he'd caught the first glimpse of a shirt as someone slipped out the other side and it'd ruined his day even further.
It took way too long to figure it out. Eventually, he'd camped on the other side of the fence, hiding by a building and just staying out of sight. He'd sent Tommy clunking in to scare off the kid and like clockwork, the little fuck slipped out just as Tommy entered and Sebastian got his first... well, second good look at the little shit. It was that dark-haired kid from before, the one he'd thought went to St. Mary's before he'd seen the uniform as the kid had slinked out after the Powers thing. He'd dug around after that. Kid's name was Jim Moore, a loner. No friends. Dead mum, drunk da. Sob story if he'd ever seen one. No wonder Powers fucked with him, he was small and weak and (according to the rumors) smart when he wasn't hiding. It pissed him off for the longest time, this little fucker kept coming into his space. Was Powers scarier than him? No, he was not . Was Sebastian gonna have to fuck this kid up too just to get him to fuck off? Probably.
Did he want to? A bit.
Really, he just wanted his spot. It was his place, and no one else could get in unless he let them, other than that Jim kid, and that was 'cuz he was small enough to slip through the gap in the fencing. No one else could. Could he nail the slot up? Yes. He had options, he could have Tommy scare'em out and then snag'em when he left. He could just... pretend the kid was never there, it wasn't like he was doing anything... But people would think he was soft and he wasn't soft. He just wanted his spot back. He didn't have anywhere else, his house was full of servants and had his father. He had to act and be the perfect son, rebel in little ways, hide. This was the only place he could get away from it all. Read his books, smoke his cigs, nurse his wounds. Daydream and pretend he was somewhere else.
He had to make a point, get this kid away because... fuck , he wasn't losing his sanctuary to some kid who got shit on because he was tiny. Although... He was torn, really. The kid was small and quick, Sebastian had seen him run off. Quick 'n fast 'n clever 'n small... could be good to have him at his beck and call, he was constantly getting into trouble and having someone who could keep an eye out when he was doing stuff would help. Fuck it.
Sebastian waited in the high up limbs on the old tree. He'd brought a book and snuck a few snacks from the kitchen and he'd been camped out all day. Eventually the kid would come and he'd strike... Until then, well... He'd brought his favorite book, 'Endurance: Shackleton's Incredible Voyage' and he was content to read and daydream. He almost fell asleep too, the warm sun making him drowsy... But the soft sound of wood scraping as it moved jarred him awake and he looked with eager blue eyes as Jim crept into the courtyard. He waited until the kid was far enough in that Seb'd have a chance to get him if he ran, then pounced.
He landed from the tree on steady feet, standing between the kid and his only exit, the other door locked. His satchel was slung over his shoulder and he dropped it onto the dirt, taking care to put his book down on top of it. It was well-worn, cared for but obviously read and reread a hundred times over and he'd bought it with his own money (stolen, but still). "Think I didn't catch you sneakin' out a few times, kid?" Sebastian cocked his head, "It's Jim, isn't it?" He asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "Thought you'd have known this from last time, but this is my spot." He growled the last few words, tightening his fist threateningly. "You're a quick kid, aren't you, Jim? Bit clever too, I heard. So you and I, I think we can come to an agreement that doesn't end up with you leavin' here in piss soaked pants and with a bloodied lip, right?"
His scowl widened into a grin, though it didn't look very friendly... "I could use someone small like you. No one pays you any attention, no one gives a damn. You run for me 'n I won't smash your face in. Fuck, I'll even let you hide out here if you keep your goddamn mouth shut and leave me alone." His grin widened, looking a bit less threatening and he rocked back in his boots (against dress code, but who'd fuck with him?) and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Or I beat the shit outta you and toss your ass to Powers. How's that sound?"
--
Jim heard the loud thump behind him, and his first instinct was to skitter off as fast as possible. But the older boy was standing firmly between him and the only exit. He set his jaw and froze, waiting to see if Moran would let him off with a scare, like he had done with Powers the last time. His stomach sunk when a wicked grin stretched the older boy's face. No easy escape then. Looks like he’d succeeded in being singled out again.
Fast? He was fast. And knew about every nook of his place. Moran had each and every eye of the teaching staff riveted on him and that was bound to be a hindrance whatever the influence of his father. Especially since Moran the elder could not be too happy about his son's behavior… If the almost hidden blue tingle marbling the skin right above his wrist was anything to go by. Jim's eyes rested on it for a fraction of seconds before snapping back up to older boy’s. If Powers was 'roughing him up', he was sure he did not want to see what Moran could do to him.
His decision made (-in about a fraction of second really-), he gave a silent, nervous swallow and answered in a flat voice.
"Yeah, ok. I’ll do it."
--
Suspicion confirmed. Sebastian hadn't been entirely sure about the kid, there was some stuff floating around and he'd kept an eye out for him the past few weeks... Odd things, really. Like the way Jim had looked pathetic and sad and miserable when Powers had him beat down, but when Sebastian had threatened to do the same he'd just sort of... left. Like there wasn't anything in there. Like the fear had been there, but not nearly as deep as portrayed. A shallow pond that looked like a lake. Most kids would've been grateful or cried or something, but he'd just quietly gathered his shit and left.
It'd piqued his interest just a bit. Which wasn't saying much, really, because he was bored and tired of his classes. His 'friends' were afraid of him or his father, sucking up to gain his favor and he'd let them because he knew. But it was something new and weird and he'd poked around. This Jim kid was 'weird' with a capital 'W'. He was supposedly shy, but he didn't act like a proper shy kid. He ducked his head and stayed down to avoid trouble, but those eyes weren't afraid, they were watching . They were doing that now, too. Not real fear, not fear of him. At most, the fear of getting hurt. Weird fucking kid. Had that rabbit act down pat, but something just felt a bit odd about him and Sebastian couldn't put his finger on it.
All he knew was that he didn't really like that... the lizard-like tone of voice. Kinda dead, for a kid who should be shakin' in his hand-me-downs. "Smarter than you look. Good. Let's put that to the test then, yeah?" His grin was almost the same as it'd be years later; crooked, a facade of friendliness with no real warmth behind it. "Headmaster Kendall's got a drawer in his study. S'where he keeps all the shit he's nicked from students. Been trying to get in there for months, but he only fucks outta there when there's somethin' goin' down." Sebastian shrugged, leaning back against the trunk of the tree, pulling a crumbled half-empty pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one with the cheap plastic lighter.
"Fuckin' hates me, so I'll make a ruckus..." Two birds, one stone. The chemistry lab teacher had told his father he'd been skipping classes. Really, they should keep those flammable chemicals locked up better... "You'll slip in 'n grab anythin' good. Really just want my cards 'n my knife back, but never hurts to have something to dangle as bait later on." Fucking prick had caught him just as he'd won a hand in the 3rd-floor bathroom, taken all his shit. "It's locked, but I can get the key. Just take a day or two..." He had an in with the head custodian. A bit of cash and a big smile and batting his eyes got him anything from that fuckin' perv. "Pull that off 'n you can hide here."
--
Jim had no need of Moran to break into the headmaster’s office. He didn' t tell him though. The school was an old building, and the doors were sturdy, reliable things. But the locks… Jim had noticed early on the keys the teachers and staff used to go around had a similar look. It was just a game afterward to pair what key opened so many doors. And it happened the headmaster office, that had been recently relocated on the ground floor because the old coot had grown a limp after an injury, was opened by the same little key than a couple of other doors from the administrative section. And there were not enough keys like this one for each person to have a personal one, so one was left hanging in a dissimulated nook of the administration private cafeteria.
The school was deserted at night, and it never was a difficult task to sneak in through a window purposefully left open earlier. Security was far from top-notch in their remote little town. Add to this how most people acted on habit... Each day a repeat of the same pattern, to Jim's benefit. If one window had not been opened for 20 years, the caretaker would not check to see if it were closed and secured before calling it a day. Jim carefully skimmed the shadowed corridors, relieving in the quietness of the usually busy building. His worn shoes were silent against the tills where the secretary’s hills would usually clack hurriedly.
He lifted the key from its little hidden nook and opened the headmaster’s office without any difficulty. Locating the drawer was no harder. Kendall belonged to this type of adult who needed to contemplate the tangible proof of their power over the kids they managed. He opened the drawer and located Moran’s stuff all right but… If he took only the knife and card it would paint a target on Moran’s back. He did not especially want to help, but alienating the older boy even in an indirect fashion, would not be smart. Take everything then? That seemed a bit too much and the theft would be spotted right away, where only taking a couple of items could go undetected under the radar…
He was pondering his choice, his eyes scouting the content of the drawer and the office at large for additional items that could ‘interest’ Moran, when something off caught his eye. A book. But not a book that one would normally want at hand. It was some dull thing… purposefully dull? Curiosity picked, Jim snatched the book. It fell open to reveal… oh. Well, that photograph would definitely fit Moran’s ‘dangling’ urges. If he dared. And would make the headmaster weary of seeking out the thief if he noticed the break-in.
Jim shrugged, pocketed all needed items before snatching for himself a couple cigarettes from a confiscated pack (-he’d seen Moran smoke and it’d piqued his curiosity-), unlocked the window for Kendall to think he’d left it open in the morning and not suspect someone had gotten in through the door and left.
--
"Wait, what?" Sebastian furrowed his eyebrows, looking at the kid somewhat confused. "There's no way you-" And then Jim tossed him a bag and... fuck! How the hell did he do that?! "How the fuck did you do that? I didn't even get the--" Oh. He probably sounded too excited. Well, it was pretty cool, he'd never had expected that from the kid. Didn't want him to think he was some hot shit though, start thinking Moran owed him instead of the other 'way round. He reined back the excitement in his voice, instead clearing his throat and leaning back against the tree trunk, sliding down to sit cross-legged on the ground. "I mean, good initiative. Might just be worth the trouble I went through to try 'n catch your sneaky little ass."
Sebastian pulled the deck of cards out, fanning the worn deck out in his hand then bridging the deck back together. They were a special set because they were lucky. And because he'd marked them, filed small grooves in the edges that he could feel when he shuffled and dealt. Made it easy to win, even if he didn't quite need it. No one was that good around here and everyone had learned quick that he was too good to play with. His knife next, won from a game of cards from some older kid who'd graduated. A cheap metal butterfly knife, he'd been practicing tricks and had been getting pretty good until the librarian caught him with it and confiscated it. He spun the blade open, twirling it as he pulled out the photograph, turning it over so he could see it. His eyes widened and the knife slipped, slicing the pad of his thumb open. "Fuck!" he cursed, shoving the bloody digit in his mouth, grinning with red teeth. "Christ, you're a bloody natural. The fuck you lettin' Powers fuck with you if you're able to get this kinda shit?" That was bait for sure, he had a collection of dirt on a good number of adults around the school. They'd get on their knees for his father, but his father's interests didn't align with his own and sometimes he needed to keep them from blabbing about something he'd done.
"Well, obviously you're not completely worthless," He had been half tempted to kick the kid out anyway after getting his shit back. This was his spot, he didn't even like the idea of letting Jim in it. But the kid was helpful and might even be more helpful later. He was quiet too and a bit of a mystery and it gave him something to think about. Sebastian tucked the photo into a book in his bag. "You can hang about just don't be fuckin' annoying. Or invite any friends or girls or anythin', this ain't a fuckin' daycare or a hookup spot. 'Sposed to get away from the idiots here, so if I see anyone else I'll make you wish you'd hung around Powers, got it?" He pulled a ring of keys out of his bag, unlooping one and tossing it at him. "Sure you don't need it if you got into Kendall's stash without one, but I made spares in case they got confiscated, so might as well have one. Don't mean we're friends ," he snapped, suddenly a bit defensive. "But I don't break my word."
That was the beginning of the weirdest year and half of his life.
--
In the end, he and Moran were not running into each other a lot. Jim did not fancy company much and had found a couple of other quiet places to nest. He would only end up in the covert courtyard on a whim, and always through the fence. He had been observing Moran a lot though. He was interesting, and Jim ended up picking a thing or two from the older boy. Not enough for anybody to notice, and anyway he had not the bulk to copycat Moran. But it was the little things that mattered, Jim had noticed, and he’d got just enough from the older boy to have neutral people get the point he’d rather be left alone.
He had also picked up one other, odd, thing. Moran did what he wanted. He was obviously paying the price for it but kept fast on not conforming to expectations or rules. This realization somehow flipped a switch in Jim’s little mind. It twisted a concept he had always tried hard to keep himself anchored to, because he had no other reference to hold on. He did not have to fit society expectations and he could go round it to serve himself if he so wished.
It started with petty thievery. Things that caught his fancy or interest. One day Moran caught him reading a book that was later reported missing on the notice board. He did not point it out and Jim eased a little more around him. Their arrangement continued whenever Moran asked something of him. Once or twice Moran insisted on knowing how he had managed the task, and always had this flabbergasted look when he explained. Jim didn't quite get it because to him it was always so simple. He just looked, and connected the dots… People never seemed to be able to see the patterns.
Powers either had not noticed the shift in Jim's behavior or did not care. He was getting pushier and pushier, bloodying Jim up more often than not nowadays. Powers had nice shoes; Jim had noticed one day as he had been laying down in front of him and he caught himself idly wondering if he could grow into them if given some time. A few days later a magazine had caught his eye. It was some trash press about the near-tragic death of a celebrity after a miss-dosed beauty product. An idea popped in his little methodical mind. And it went on ticking.
Jim did not fight back. He struck.
A month later Carl Powers died tragically doing the one thing he was supposed to be good at. Nobody noticed the missing shoes. Well, nobody important.