3Disclaimer: I don't own The Gifted!
Chapter 5
There were four new holes in the brick wall. John sighed as he brushed his thumb across the crumbling edge of the first one. While James rarely did anything like John, he did deal with pent-up frustration, guilt, and helplessness almost the same way as John. It wasn't the best trait to inherit, but their mother had been much the same way. She would smash things or got outside and tear the laundry off the line. Their father had been the quiet one, pushing his anger into silence and tension, or at least that was what John remembered.
It had been a long time ago.
John followed the holes down the hall to where his brother was sitting in the corner, his hands buried in his long wet hair, his elbows on his drawn-up knees. Forcing him to take a shower had been John's first major accomplishment, but after that, James had refused to do anything else besides station himself outside of the makeshift operating room.
He had eventually been chased off by Shaan, who was an empath. Shaan couldn't handle James' roiling emotions, and the distraction wasn't helping with Ali's surgery so James had been asked to get at least fifty feet away or go hang out in the safe.
Reluctantly, James had left, and John hadn't followed him. If he was James, and Clarice had been in Ali's place, he would've wanted some time to himself. For a while, he had settled down on a couch with Clarice, stroking her hair until she nodded off against his shoulder. Donating blood had taken a lot out of her, and even a cup of coffee and half a ham and cheese sandwich hadn't been enough to take the edge off her exhaustion.
Once Clarice was fully asleep, he slipped away, gently laying her down on the couch and covering her with a blanket. He would come back later to take her to bed. For now, she was fine where she was, and everyone else knew better than to try and wake up Clarice. She was particularly snarky when she was abruptly awakened.
John looked down at James, wanting to yank him up into a hug. But James was a scrawny little twelve-year-old anymore, and maybe a hug wasn't exactly what he needed in this moment. Instead, John sat down beside him and waited.
"She could die." James' voice ragged and reluctant, sharp-edged with horror at the very real possibility.
"Cecelia's an actual surgeon, and Shaan worked in the ER," John said, "They both know what they're doing." He wasn't going to say it couldn't happen, though. Those had been serious wounds, but he did believe in Cecelia and her skills.
James lifted his head, shoving his hair back. He roughly wiped a hand over his face. "There was a lot of blood."
"I swear they'll do everything they can," John said, reaching out to touch his arm. James jerked away from him, and John backed off. "And Ali's going to fight, too. From everything you've told me about her, she's not the type to give up, and she'd be pissed off at you for thinking she would."
"I know but…it's really bad, isn't it? I screwed up so bad," James said. He got up abruptly and took a few steps forward before turning around. "This is on me, it's my fault."
"I seriously doubt you wanted this to happen," John said, watching his little brother clench his fists.
"No, but I wanted to hurt that guy," he snapped back, "I wanted to make him pay, and now…" James lashed out at the wall, which crumbled under the blow, bricks giving way and turning to red powder. He slammed his fist into the dent, widening it, before he leaned against the wall. "I can't even do anything. I can't help her."
"You're here for her, and that's what you can do right now," John said, "You can also stop punching those bricks. Your knuckles are going to eventually split open."
"Not anytime soon," James mumbled but he turned around, resting his back against the wall.
After a few quiet moments, John glanced over at his brother. "What happened out there? Why were you at Griffith's?"
"Because he's a bastard," James growled. He bumped his head against the wall and gritted his teeth. "We had a plan."
John nodded. "Mhmm." Yeah, and that plan had obviously gone awry, based on the results.
"We did." James shot a glare at him and pushed away from the wall. "We waited until the guard changed and found a weak spot in the fence. Ali took out the lights near that spot, and we were going to burn a few warehouses."
It was John's turn to glare. "And you two thought that was helping the mutant cause how?"
"Because he throws all his money behind those anti-mutant people!" James responded, "And even with insurance money, losing all those warehouses would be a blow."
"At least until he pinned it all on mutants, getting even more support for those hate groups and lobbyists," John said, "Which is exactly what he's going to do."
"Will you just—" James bristled and looked away. "Can you…can you wait until later to lecture me."
John winced. "Sorry." He hadn't meant to lay into James right now, not when he was already under a lot of stress.
James shrugged. "It was okay until we hit this one spot. It was like…I don't know how, but Ali's powers stopped working and so did my foresight. I still had strength and enhanced senses, but I couldn't see what was coming. And then these extra guard came after us, and I got separated from Ali, and you know what happened." James dug his fingertips a couple centimeters into the bricks. "I got her and got out of there. So no, you don't have to tell me how stupid it all was, I'm figuring that out on my own."
John shook his head. The idea of some way to turn off a mutant's powers remotely was worrisome, but they could talk about it some other time. James needed support, not condemnation, but John had started thinking about the potential fallout and the possible aftereffect of what they had done. There would be time for that later, after Ali was better and this night was behind them. "I shouldn't have said anything."
"What if she dies. I can't—" James stopped talking and crossed his arms tight over his chest, as if he was holding himself together. Guilt and fury raged in his dark brown eyes, but soon a sheen of tears took over. He looked down, avoiding John's eyes.
John got up and stepped over to James, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a hug before he could protest. For a moment, James tensed up then he dropped his forehead against John's shoulder. Yeah, James wasn't a kid anymore, but that didn't mean he couldn't use a hug. It was the best way John could show that he was there for him.
He wrapped his arms around James and hugged him tighter, only letting go when James did. He squeezed James' upper arm and moved back, giving him some space. "Come on, I'm getting you something to eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"Then you can just look at it," John said, heading toward the stairs. "Let's go." After hesitating, James followed him after.
Both of them were silent as John fixed James a ham and cheese sandwich (his specialty tonight, apparently) and a giant plastic cup of water. He made another cup of coffee for himself. He put James take the sandwich and the water and grabbed his own mug before leaving the kitchen. He could faintly hear the sounds from the operating room, so he hurried through the building with James in tow until they reached one of the side doors.
Outside, the night air was crisp and clean and cool, refreshing after the stuffy, boarded up bank. He sat down on the steps as James dropped onto the low concrete wall nearby, setting the food and cup on the wall as well. With no lights in sight, it was easy to see the stars hanging overhead, scattered across the darkness.
He heard James take in a deep breath and looked over to see him take a bite out of the sandwich. However long he needed to, John was going to stay with James. He willed Ali to be okay. She would be. It was a gut feeling, but John had learned a long time ago that his instincts were usually right.
