Fanfic time: Misfits part 59

Trigger warning: This episode contains depictions of sexual abuse.

Continued from yesterday:

  Kurt raised an eyebrow at the teacher’s mangled German. Something about this man had just scared the living spit out of Todd… and that meant a lot of fear.

  A teacher that still held Todd’s hall pass negligently in one hand.

  “[Allow me, sir,]” he said, absently swapping to German.

  “Hm? Vhat?”

  “I can take the pass to him,” said Kurt. “No trouble at all.”

  “You are his friend, ja?”

  “A friend of his friend,” he laughed. “It works. Some of us are -ah- nervy… around strangers.” Thus neatly slipping in his own anti-touch Thing without making a big deal out of it. “We know each other, so… it just works better.”

  With that, he managed to obtain the paper rectangle without touching the teacher and hustled off after the undelicate smell of Todd Tolenski.

  Not that he *stank*, any more… but his odour was distinct and, apparently, it got stronger when he was under stress. Kurt wasn’t as good as Wolverine when it came to nose news, but he didn’t need to be to scent-track a scared Toad.

  Kurt found him in a maintenance closet. Surrounded by enough cleansers to strip his skin clean off. He held up the hall pass. “You might be wanting this, ja?”

  Todd was distant from reality. Huddled against the wall in a defensive slouch. “Yeah. Thanks,” he murmured, but didn’t move.

  His hands were burned and blistered.

  Kurt gently pried him out of his hiding place. “Come on, now. That spot’s not healthy for you. One wrong twitch and Sara’d be out after my blood, ja?”

  Just a whimper and a flinch.

  _Okay… stay away from anything Germanic._ Kurt steered Todd towards the nurse’s office, talking softly all the time. “Something happened, didn’t it? You saw a ghost - of bad times, I think. Was it *him*? *That* teacher? Or does he just look like someone? Talk to me, Todd. Tell me what’s happening. Let me help.”

  Twitch. Shudder. Shiver. A tiny moan. Todd shook his head. “Ain’t no help. Ain’t no help. Never ain’t no help.”

  _Lovely…_

  Ms Ogg boggled at the blisters and got Todd to sit quietly on a padded bench with an itchy blanket around him and his hand in a saline bath. The fingers of his broken hand were simply smeared with antiseptic cream and sandwiched between two cold packs.

  It was the most she could do.

  Kurt vowed to have someone pick him up the minute school was done with. Hell, all he had to do was get Amanda to txt Sara[1] and she’d be there so fast she’d break at least one sound barrier.

+

  Sam dreamed. Almost halfway to Sara and he was in another dinky motel in the middle of fuck-all, nowhere… as the locals were wont to call it. The real name of the little whistlestop town was unimportant.

  The gear-shifts of the ancient air conditioning put his deams in a Kafka-esque future somewhere between Metropolis and the entire steampunk genre. The machinery had to keep going. He had a giant monkey wrench with which he had to fix the machine… and while he tightened nuts and bolts, he was searching.

  Looking for something treasured.

  Something valuable.

  Echoing clanks became footfalls, and a distant conversation barely made it through the noise of the giant machine.

  “…ridiculous how willing they are to bow to religious beliefs…”

  Sara!

  She’d know what he was looking for.

  Whenever he was tired like this, rat-faced exhausted from stress or a long trip or both, he could rely on his daughter to help him. He tried to follow her voice, but the walkways were labyrinthine and shaky enough to force him to go slowly.

  “…happy medium. I mean, it’s obvious that the universe is just too darn organized to be one huge mistake…”

  But he could never get closer…

 [1] Because Kurt’s fingers are too thick for mobile phone keypads.

~

  Todd was, currently, trying to convince himself he was in a safe place. A physical safe place as opposed to the distant corner of his mind he’d tucked himself into. The blanket was over his head and eyes, the rest of his face shielded by scabbed knees and ripped denim. Only his hands were forced out of his huddle, needing care and medical attention and his brain classified Mrs. Ogg as ‘harmless’. Whoever walked into the office however, may or may not be harmless. They couldn’t hurt him in any of the old ways in here, but that just meant they’d be waiting outside. The fear that they were already waiting outside was more or less keeping Todd very still and very quiet. Mrs. Ogg hadn’t been able to get so much as a peep out of him, not even when she asked if his hand was feeling any better. Todd had only nodded, staring through her desk and beyond.

  Thinking was very bad for him right now. His brain went and did it anyway. 

+

 Todd was nine years old. Manny had come into the bathroom after he was done showering. Todd grabbed the towel and shut off the water. “I’m telling the police,” he said. “If you don’t stop it.” He’d gotten the idea from Detective McGruff.(1)

  The words were supposed to have warded Manny off like magic. They didn’t. Manny snagged Todd’s arm, twisting it behind his back, and shoved him counterwards to the steamed mirror. The towel was torn off and thrown into a corner. He saw the outline of his own frightened face panting back at him as Manny’s other hand went to the small of his back, slamming his hips into the sink and holding him there. “And you wanna know what the cops’ll do?” Manny had hissed in his ear. Todd trembled, shook his head no. “They’ll say 'My what an easy little piece of candy. Lets anyone touch his bits. Let’s have some fun with him, eh? We already have a suspect.’ They’ll take some pictures after we’re done, put them in a folder and pass them around the station.’ Cops are allowed to look at those types of things all they want, you know, it’s part of their job. And then, they’ll need to send you to the hospital, won’t they?” Todd was shaking his head no, crying silently. “Yes. Where they’ll force you to hold still on your belly,” Manny’s hand went downwards. Todd squinched his eyes shut and tried to squirm away but there was no place to go. “And inspect you.” His hand jerked viciously and Todd jumped forward, letting out an involuntary little shriek. “For evidence, of course. They’ll need it for the courtroom. If they successfully convict me, they might take you away. Put you in a new home with worse than you got. I’m gentler with you than some others might be, Toddy.” There was pressure then, where Todd wanted it least of all. He hiccoughed, shrieked, and tried to kick him but Manny didn’t leave off. 

  “So, do you still want to go to the police?”

  Todd’s body twitched with the effort of holding sobs back, and inevitably collapsed over the sink in misery. It had taken so much work to get his courage and hopes up, and now it had become just one more terrible mistake. “N'uhnI'msorryUncaManny – pleeeeeease I’m sorreeehhheeeeeee!" 

  "Be a good boy now. Be quiet, yes?”

  There was no help coming. Only pain. Papa Tolensky was watching a game. Mama had made a special drink for herself and gone to bed. Todd watched tears streak his face in the foggy glass and wished things were happening to the one in the mirror instead of him. 

+

  _Ain’t no help. Never ain’t no help._ Todd closed his eyes and tried to think of something else. He thought of Sara. He thought of her leaning against him, hands intertwined with his. Studying her beautiful scales - how they reflected colors when she moved or smiled. Her laughter. Her kisses. 

  “…a kiss is just a kiss,” he murmured softly to himself. Although his eyes remained distant, he smiled. _Think about her. There we go, man. Just her and you and nobody else._

  There was a safe place now, if only in his mind.

+

  Amanda was dialing now, at five seconds before bell. The message was short, simple. 

  _Todd at nurse’s office. Take him home asap. – Kurt_

  She sent it, and watched the screen knowing there’d be no reply demanding what was up. Sara wasn’t known to waste time.

 (1) McGruff’s that cartoon Detective dog. From the 80’s or something. He did little scenarios that showed kids what to do or say when a stranger tried to get them into the car, or when a neighbor tried to take off clothes. Of course his advice never failed to work in the scenarios, so kids didn’t always know what to do if it failed in real life.

~

  “…the whole concept of EVP is just fascinating, I mean, if one can *verify*–”

  {Dooteet}

  Someone had txt’d her. Again. After the highly amusing one about the threesome had gone around, people had just gone *nuts*. _Hey ho. This one’s from Kurt’s phone…_

  “Another crank?” said Professor Montegna. He had an amused look on his face, like someone watching a rare and spectacular show.

  “No, a friend.” bip bip… Sara felt a cold chill sweep right over her.

  “Are you okay? You just went dead white.”

  “Todd’s hurt.” Sara abandoned her things. “Please excuse me.” Her feet had wings again, eating up the distance between study hall and the infirmary. She didn’t pay any heed to what she was doing until she had him in her arms.

  He wasn’t bleeding. Showed no sign of any breaks, nor fractures. But the look in his eyes…

  “Dragons?” she asked.

  He was trembling, but he managed a mute nod.

  “Then we have to get you away from here,” Sara decided, patting her pockets for her phone. Now, just where did she leave…?

  “Just -uhnf- how many years -oog- have you spent -hhuuufff- weight training, Miss -ow- Adrien?”

  Sara looked back. The doors were bent. And there was Professor Montegna dragging her backpack with him. “Sorry,” she said. “I’ve been meaning to edit the contents a little. Er. Would you perchance happen to have my–?”

  “Cellular? Last thing I picked up after I saw you almost fly from the room.” He waved the thing vaguely between two fingers. “A breach of personal rights, but curiosity and opportunity rarely pay any attention to law.”

  “Right at this moment, you’re more than quite forgiven.” Sara dialled up the Institute’s number and hit the call button.

  “There’s already help on the way, Sara,” said the Professor. “Try to stay calm and remain with him in the meantime.”

  “Calm? Sir, this has to be a Defcon 2 Dragon attack. It’s *serious*.”

  “And it will not be helped by panic, Sara. You need to be the shield for him. And -er- do try to assist Professor Montegna on his way.”

  Oh yes. Stand strong and cope. At least until within a safe haven where she could gibber and wail with all due abandon. “Of course. Of course. Thank you, sir.”

  Sara hung up and let the phone drop into her pocket. Then, maintaining her air of calm control, turned to Professor Montegna.

  “Thanks *very* much for retrieving my things. I happen to know a few doctors who are very good with hernias, if…”

  “No, I’m wise enough to know my limits, thankyou, though.” Montegna laughed. “You know, most people would be joking about that.”

  “I’m not in a fit state of mind to joke, sir. However,” she began to collect her things from the man’s arms. “I do trust your curiosity is sated with regards to my abilities.”

  “More than satiated,” he bowed. “It will be a pleasure and a privalege to see to your further education, my dear.”

  And, because she was so distracted, Sara actually said, “Thank you,” without prompting.

~~

  Todd wasn’t listening, but his head turned at the noise of conversation. Part of him felt truly pathetic for reacting this badly. The rest of him was too busy reacting badly to give a damn. Sara was back down next to him and he took her hand, needing contact with her - blisters be damned. “Sorry,” he muttered, though he was only vaguely aware of what was apologising for. It didn’t really matter once Sara had him back in her arms. 

  He rested against her, eyes closed. “Do we have to talk later?” he croaked unhappily.

  “Not now,” Sara soothed. She stroked his hair, perfectly calm on the outside. “You need to be somewhere safe. Then I’d like to know what happened.”

  “There’s some things you’d be happier not knowin’ about, yo.”

  “And there’s some things a person can’t keep in boxes,” Sara answered. “Not forever anyway. They come out.”

  Todd curled against her. “But I can’t,” he hissed. “I can’t even put it in a box. Not for one second. Don’t know how. I see him and I just…” Almost. Todd fought it all back inside. 

  “Him?” Sara asked. 

  But Todd shook his head. “Sorry, I… I should, but there’s just some things I ain’t ready to talk about. I don’t think I ever will be either.” He was silent for a moment and looked up at her. “You ain’t mad at me?" 

  "My dear Sir Leapsalot.” She kissed his temple. “I’m not going to blugeon a full confessional from you. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. But a Dragon is a Dragon, and whoever he is, he’s wounding you. I want to know who to eviscerate at the very least if he gets within two meters of your personal boundaries. Okay?”

  There was a sharp flare of pain behind his sternum at those words. It was a good kind of pain, but it hurt just as much as the bad kind and for variety of different reasons. Todd buried his face in her shoulder, hugging her for all he was worth. “Okay,” he barely got out above a whisper. It was all he could manage before his throat closed. 

~

  Sara wrapped her arms around him, twitching the itchy blanket a little more around him so he was hidden from the world.

  Dragon wounds.

  Fresh and raw and bleeding.

  This was not the time for fear and concern. This was the time for slow-burning rage combined with near-jealous vigilance. If the unidentified Dragon ever dared come close, here, they would find themselves with some heavily determined opposition.

  _I am his, and he is mine. We heal each other and support each other. We are one. Attack one, and the other will strike,_ Sara thought. _Together, we are not weak, for one of us is always strong. Come. Strike if you dare._

  But the Dragon didn’t come.

  Curse it.

  Logan, however, did. “*Tallwater*…” he sighed.

  “Todd’s the one who ran afoul of a Dragon,” said Sara. “It has to be someone legitimately on the premises… since they don’t allow random adults to wander where they whist.”

  Logan raised an eyebrow. “It’s gotta be an adult?”

  “I know of few contemporaries capable of causing this level of… damage, Mr Logan. Adults have had time to hone their techniques. Ergo, this Dragon is either an adult… or the teenage equivalent of Moriarty. In the latter case, I rather think they’d stand out. Especially if they were new to the school.” Sara disentangled herself enough to coax Todd into awareness. “Come on, sweetie… Help’s here. We can hide behind Mr Logan. He’s better than a SWAT team.”

  Never letting go of her, he edged off the bed and sidled into Logan’s range of protection.

  _Rats. I need three arms._ “Bread and butter, sweetheart… I just need my things, okay?”

  A shaky nod. He’d gone pale.

  The instant her hand was free, she packed swiftly. Making sure she had everything so she wouldn’t have to abandon him twice. Her hand fit neatly back into his. “See, love? Bread and butter.”

  He clung to her arm like a limpet.

  This Dragon was a ghost from his past. A powerful one, at that, to make him do *this*.

  _And when I find them, they are *atoms*._

~