Chapter Text
John woke confused. He was too hot, and he was nearly falling off, half over the edge already, and there was something warm and heavy at his back.
Arlo.
John rolled forwards off the couch. He rubbed his eyes, and blinked when he turned on the bathroom light. In the mirror, yellow eyes stared back at him, framed by dark hair, ungelled. He splashed water in his face to cool off.
When John returned, more or less awake, Arlo had sprawled out over the whole couch.
Arlo. Of all people, Arlo?
John went to the kitchen. It was dark, lit only by the small display on the microwave, showing 05:44. At least it wasn't in the middle of the night; John could wait for Arlo to wake up. In his sleep-addled state, he could barely get his head around it. What had happened exactly, and what were they to each other? He'd have to deal with that at some point, somehow.
The more time they spent together, the more he'd become convinced that Arlo really cared about people, on some level. At least a bit.
Arlo offering to help him... Arlo forgiving John after he got angry... Holding him...
All of it was directed towards John, specifically, though. Something about him made Arlo want to help him, win his trust... Something closed around John's heart. Perhaps he shouldn't have let them become quite this close. But he couldn't leave. He couldn't leave Arlo in the power of the Authorities, not if Arlo wanted to get out.
Who am I kidding. He won't change his mind.
John looked back into the dark room.
Just my luck to start having second thoughts.
Arlo woke to find John in his kitchen.
"Good morning," he said, refusing to become flustered. The same could not be said of John, who looked away.
"Good morning," he finally said.
Arlo got out his usual breakfast things: cereal, milk, bread, and arranged them on the counter.
"Help yourself," he said, taking out a bowl from the cupboard. John did, but looked miserable all through breakfast. He ate slowly, and his eyes stayed firmly downcast.
"What is it?" Arlo asked finally. "You look miserable."
John shook his head. "It's nothing. I'm tired."
"Did I wake you?" Arlo asked. "There wasn't much room for two people."
John shrugged.
No indication of what he wants to do in the future, then.
Fine.
Isen's pencil prodded Blyke's arm, again. Blyke pushed it away. Sometimes, he wished Isen would bunk off class entirely, even if he'd have to do all the work for the both of them. Between Isen disturbing him and all the business with John, Blyke could barely concentrate on the chatter of their history teacher.
As far as he'd seen, John hadn't come back to the dorm at all last night. It had been a relief not to have to sleep in the same dorm as the masked student, but it was also worrying. John was in class now though, and didn't look unusually tired. He'd even smiled when he walked in.
Isen prodded him again.
"Shut up," Blyke snapped.
Isen didn't reply, only pushed his notebook over the desk, showing a caricature of their teacher making heart-eyes at Nallo the Last Emperor. Blyke huffed and turned back to his own notes. Instead of a caricature, they contained a detailed account of the life of Nallo.
When class ended, Blyke fell in step with Isen and Remi. Remi was not smiling.
"Did you hear?" she asked. "Another vigilante got killed."
"What? They get killed all the time," Isen said.
Wrong thing to say, man, Blyke thought as Remi bit her lip.
"I know," she said. "But this one looked so young. She must have been younger than us."
"Oh."
"It's just so unfair."
"Yeah, it sucks," Blyke said.
It does actually suck. None of us deserve to die.
Remi nodded, eyes shiny.
"Hey, let's focus on the things we can do something about," Isen said. "The safe house, right?"
"Right," Remi said, wiping at her eyes. "We should be able to open soon. Arlo said he could help."
"Huh? That's awesome," Blyke said.
"Yeah," Remi said half-heartedly.
"What did he say? I wasn't expecting him to help."
"He just said he thought it would be good for the school."
"It will be," Blyke said. The "anonymous attacks" trend was still going strong, and a lot of people were scared.
John did come back to the dorm that evening. As soon as he heard the front door, Blyke leapt up, and just caught John before he disappeared into his own room.
"Hey," Blyke said. "Where were you last night? You haven't been vigilanting again, have you?"
"It's none of your business."
"Look, Isen told me how powerful you are. I'm sure you can handle it on your own, but if we're going, we should go together. It's a lot safer."
"I said it's none of your business. What else did Isen tell you?"
"Nothing! Only that you'd defeated Arlo."
John's eyes widened, a flicker of anger passing over his face. "Not a word to anyone. Arlo is still King."
"Of course! I wasn't going to tell anyone."
"Hmf."
"Hey," Blyke said as John closed the door behind him.
Damn.
Where the hell was he?
Isen
Blyke: Do you know what's up with John?
Isen: What's happened now?
Blyke: He didn't come back to the dorm last night. I asked him what he'd been up to, but he just brushed me off
Isen: I have no idea. I didn't hear of any attacks at least.
Blyke: You're sure he's under control? What did Arlo do?
Isen: I wish I knew.
With a groan, Blyke returned to his room.
Arlo
Blyke: What's going on with John?
Arlo is typing
.
.
.
Arlo is typing
Arlo: What do you mean?
Blyke: Everything! Not attacking people any more. And he didn't come back to the dorm yesterday.
Arlo: Is he there now?
Blyke: Yes.
Arlo: I can't tell you anything. This is a delicate matter.
Blyke: But you're sure he won't beat me up in my sleep?
Arlo: He won't.