Disclaimer: The Tomorrow People is the property of the CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

~ X ~

The room was a scene of deceptively controlled disorder. The bed was stripped down to the mattress, boxes set against the wall, empty drawers haphazardly pulled partway out. There were several piles of items on the cement floor designated for discarding or recycling. Backpacks in various sizes were strewn around the room. Items still waiting for his evaluation were piled in heaps in front of a young man sitting on a cot.

John pawed through various mental cases, drawers, shoeboxes, and other cardboard containers. Six years of using this room as his home made it difficult to sort through his possessions and the accumulated debris of daily living. They weren't just objects, but rather the collective memories of the new life he began when he fled Ultra. What to take? What to leave behind as he started the next phase of his life.

He had warned Cara he was coming so she could busy herself elsewhere. She had taken Charlie on a fabricated shopping expedition. Neither one of his girls was taking this well. He had to suppress a snort of laughter at that thought. 'His' girls. He would always love Cara. There was too much between them for him to just forget her, but it was time to walk away and start over.

And Charlie? The thought of the pain he was bringing Charlie dismayed him. It was too early to tell, but if there was any possibility at all, he would carve out space for her in his new life.

Surprisingly Charlie was not the only one who had taken him to task. Stephen had given him a ration of crap over his decision. He was angry with John for what he felt was his desertion of Cara and being responsible for diverting Astrid's love from him. When John had tasked him with the fact that he hadn't wanted Astrid, and he did want Cara, Stephen almost punched him saying he didn't understand. John just shook his head, glad he wasn't a teenager anymore.

Stephen had always been arrogant . . . no, not the right word . . . supremely confident of Astrid's love. It was something he took for granted, something he depended on without realizing; a solid rock in his crazy world. Losing it had shaken him to his very core, even though Astrid explained that she still loved him, just in a different way. John snorted. Why should he expect a kid like Stephen to understand when the more mature Cara couldn't accept the same words from him? John needed to distance himself from Stephen until the kid could sort out everything that had happened to him. And then again, maybe there would always be a distance. With him working for Jedikiah, who knew what the future would bring.

He picked up a stub from the basketball game where he had messed with Stephen after finding out he had slept with Cara. How did that find its way into a drawer? It was just one of many things that brought back a flood of memories. He tossed it in a trash pile.

"So you're really leaving us."

A familiar voice made him stiffen momentarily. He consciously relaxed keeping his focus on the tray in front of him. "Yup. Just cleaning out my stuff so someone else can use the space."

Russell wandered in, taking his time. He skirted the piles on the floor, picking up and dropping various items. He peeked into the cardboard boxes lining a wall. Spotting a bedazzled wristwatch he asked, "You taking this?"

"Nope. The boxes against the wall are staying for whoever wants the stuff." John pointed over his shoulder. "The backpacks are coming." He waved his hand in front of him. "Piles on the floor are for the trash."

Russell pushed up his sleeve, trying on the wristwatch. He looked at it from several angles before deciding he didn't really want it. He stripped it off and tossed it back into the box.

The silence in the room became uncomfortable, so he searched for something to say. "Um . . . thanks for leaving TIM." Russell spoke self-consciously, hands in his pockets, kicking at a dust mote for something to do.

"Yeah, well we got ALICE, so TIM's yours. Take care of him for me." John finished up the tray in his lap and went for the next one.

Russell watched as John sorted, frowning now and then at something.

Russell sat next to John on the cot. John didn't protest, but he also didn't move over to give Russell more room or acknowledge him in any way.

Russell nervously cleared his throat. "We . . . ah . . . never talked about what happened."

"Nothing to say." John's voice was matter-of-fact, hands continuing to work.

"Whatta ya mean nothing to say?" Russell stared at John as if he couldn't believe his ears. "How bout me saying I'm sorry?"

"You already said it to the group," John stated. "And you helped out in the end."

"Yeah, but I never said it directly to you."

"No need." John grimaced at a set of keys, having no idea what they opened. He tossed them on a trash pile.

"But things aren't the same between us." Russell fumbled for words. "I miss what we had. We don't talk. Don't joke. We . . . . Nothing."

John frowned, running a gentle finger over the pocket knife in his hand, remembering who gave it to him. As he stuffed it in a pocket, he said, "Things won't ever be the same. Gotta accept that."

"Ever?" Russell questioned. "Why not? Why can't we get past this?"

John went quiet, resting his hands on his knees. He bowed his head for a moment before raising it to stare straight ahead at the gray wall. It wasn't the wall he saw, however, it was the past.

"I've always been either used or betrayed. My whole life. Whatever two people got it on to make me, and I long ago stopped referring to them as parents, dumped me into the system when I was born. For awhile, I used to imagine that they would come and get me. Say it was all a mistake. That they really wanted me. I got over that pretty quickly. And then Jedikiah came and . . ." He sighed, breathing heavily through his nose. "To say he and Roger used me is like saying does the sun come up every morning? They had a noble purpose and I was a good puppet. They pulled the strings. I danced.

"I had people I thought I trusted here. People that I could finally say had my back. You and Cara, Russell. You two were it."

Russell hung his head. "I know."

John swallowed painfully. "Cara cheated on me with Stephen. You set me up to die." He shook his head in resignation. "It is what it is."

Russell's face screwed up. "I tried to make up for it. I made a mistake. People do that."

He gently punched John on the shoulder in an old boxing gesture they used to use, trying for their former camaraderie. "Can't you accept my apology, and we start over? There's too much history between us."

John looked up at the ceiling. "My powers were taken from me because I saved Roger. There was always the possibility that I would be caught. Could get killed. I sacrificed everything so the one man who could make a difference would live."

For the first time, he looked Russell in the eyes. "You brought me to the lair when the Founder let me go. You know what it cost me to save Roger, and you delivered the man I gave my powers up for to the Founder like a sack of flour."

Russell spread his hands out, begging for understanding. "I was afraid. We were dying, and I didn't want to die."

John nodded his head. "I get that. You made the decision that your life was worth more than all the humans on this planet."

"I wasn't thinking on a grand scale. It was my life on the line." Russell got defensive.

John spoke slowly, thoughtfully. "Okay, let me put it on a personal scale. You knew I was human, and I would die. You knew Astrid would die." John paused. "You knew the mother that you loved and so desperately wanted to leave here to see would die."

"Sounds harsh when you say it that way. I wasn't thinking in those terms." Russell protested weakly.

"It is harsh. Maybe I see it that way cause my whole life's been harsh." John sighed. "I just can't see it any other way."

They sat silent, side by side.

Russell finally spoke. "So, I guess you're telling me it's over."

"Yeah, that's what I'm telling you. Chances are we'll meet. Hopefully we'll be working towards the same goal. But friends? Nah. Friends don't betray each other."

Russell stood. "So Jedikiah gets a second chance, but I don't?" His voice was bitter.

John started sorting again. "Jedikiah used me. It wasn't until I fled Ultra that he tried setting me up. And it was always to get me back." A semi-amused laugh escaped John. "So he could use me again in his grand scheme."

He looked up at Russell. "He'll always try to use me. I'll have to be on my guard. But I don't think he'll betray me."

Russell swallowed feeling lost and alone. "You always said he was the closest thing you had to a father, so I guess family comes first."

He straightened his back, looking down at John. "I guess my family here will have to do."

John kept on sorting. Russell waited, hoping he would reconsider, but when John just continued on with what he was doing, he walked out.

John focused on his task, waiting until he could no longer sense Russell before he finally allowed his eyes to fill. He picked up a watch, looking at it through the sheen in his eyes. He recognized it as the one Russell had stolen for him when he gave Roger's watch to Stephen.

"You were my brother, Russell," John whispered. "You were my brother."

He tossed the watch on the closest junk pile.

~ FIN ~~