Title: "A Savage in the Wild"

Rating: T, because it's angsty

Genre: Drama, Friendship

Character(s): Leo, Douglas

Pairing(s): none

Summary: 'Is it hard? Other people being scared of you? …I just wanted to know, because now the people I care about are scared of me, too.' [[Written for xxWasabiWarriorAlert.]]

Notes: Written for xxWasabiWarriorAlertxx for being so encouraging to me! The only thing X asked from me was a Leo story, so here it is! It will be angsty and dark, so watch out. This story veers off from First Day of Bionic Academy onwards.

There will be two endings to this: the original ending and a surprise ending. This first one is the original. The version with the surprise ending will be posted sometime soon. Thought it'd be better so X can have a choice of which one s/he wants.

Enjoy!

WARNING: Bullying involved.

Silence is in its loudest when an insignificant noise is present. Douglas realizes this as he walks down the long hallway, his Academy-issued combat boots clapping hard against the floor underneath him. It's nearly unbearable, the lack of any chatter or chuckles or even the hisses of disagreement that is present on the main part of the island. He is not one to complain about peace and quiet. He's lived for years with just his gadgets and his thoughts for company, and he'd like to think it served him well in a way.

But this? This is not the peace and quiet that he's known.

It only disturbs him more as he looks at it: all lights turned off, the only illumination he has as he proceeds to his destination coming from the bright Pacific daylight filtering in through the foot-wide windows located higher up on the walls. He understands, logically, how this is necessary. After the Big Accident days ago (as so dubbed by the students), his brother deemed it best to take away and turn off any energy source in that confinement area where the kid would be placed. Even the temperature was reduced to ensure that the kid's arm wouldn't act up. He did not want another repeat of what happened after all.

However, conscientiously, it does not make sense to him. It's almost cruel, how this is done, how the kid had been judged to be caged like an animal, and from time to time he finds himself trying to reel from the fact that the boy's being treated like this.

Although, Douglas supposes he has no right to call anyone out. This is the result of a general consensus and is something that the kid has agreed to. It's for the best, they said, and they're the ones who are more experienced at being good people so maybe it is.

He turns the little vial in his right hand over and over again as he approaches the end of the hall. It increases in weight the more he thinks about its recipient, and it becomes somewhat slippery the more he thinks about what it will do. He stops in front of the very last room, in front of the reinforced door. Then, he peers into the thick, murky glass and knocks loudly.

A slow movement starts inside. His eyes follow as the silhouette sits up. "Hey," Leo's surprisingly cheerful tone rings through the heavy partition between them.

Douglas nods. "Hey," he says. "How are you feeling?"

Leo stands up from the couch and then shrugs. "Oh, you know. Still locked in a cold place because of temper issues and a dangerous glitch," he says. He sighs, and his breath creates a light fog. He grins as he sees the blurred outlines of his step-uncle. "I guess it could have been worse."

Douglas says nothing.

"You have something for me?" Leo asks.

"Yeah." Douglas opens the small box beside the door and then deposits the vial inside. A few second after he closes it, he hears a squeak at the other side and then something shutting.

"Thanks."

Douglas watches as the kid walks back to the couch to sit down. From what he can tell, the boy is examining what he has just been given. "It'll taste funny, so try to get it in one swig," he instructs. "Lay down as soon as you take it. The sedative will take a few minutes before it kicks in. It will make you feel dizzy and nauseous." It's for the best, he tries to convince himself as pity washes over him—but fails. "Just lay down and close your eyes."

A nod. "Okay," Leo responds.

Silence comes again and threatens to fight back viciously. Before it can act, Douglas speaks. "What happened?" he asks.

"Hm?" Leo sounds out before swinging back the contents of the small bottle. He makes a disgusted sound as he coughs out. "Ugh. You—" he gags, "you weren't kidding about this tasting nasty. What did you use to make this, Adam's gym socks?"

"What happened?" he repeats, ignoring his remarks.

He hears the kid smacking his lips, perhaps in an attempt to get rid of the putrid taste that had burst through his mouth. Then, he sees him lean back on the couch as he shakes his head. After a long while, when he has settled down, the kid responds, "I messed up." He breathes out in disappointment, and suddenly to Douglas the room inside looks colder. "I know you weren't here when it happened, but…you probably already saw my handiwork. Classrooms with no electricity, twenty-one students recovering in their capsules. Twenty-two, actually," he corrects sadly. "Chase got caught in it, too."

"Your energy transference glitched."

"Big time," Leo says. He closes his eyes as he feels the first wave of dizziness. "I just got so mad. They just stepped on my last nerve, and I just snapped. It's bad enough that I'm failing in leveling up, but to be picked on by other kids because of it, I…I just got tired."

Douglas remembers watching the surveillance recordings clearly. He had to look over it, for a clear assessment of what he needed to fix in the kid's arm. He wishes he hadn't.

The playback began with the kid walking out of the training center and into the classroom. He was already upset at that point. Douglas didn't have to wait a long time to find out why: trailing behind the kid was a small group of six students, most on intermediate skill levels, obviously deriding him. Two of the boys were using their molecular kinesis to make walking away hard for the kid. There were no sounds, but the kid was obviously telling them to leave him alone repeatedly. The students just laughed when he did so.

This went on for a few more minutes until one of them decided to trip the boy in front of a much bigger crowd. More laughter all around.

It was the last straw.

After the kid got back on his feet, the students in the small group poised to continue, but the kid held up a hand in front of him. They seemed to take it as an encouragement, and they acted on the wrong presumption that the kid can't do anything they can't do better.

Then, it happened.

It angers him now to think back on it, how the kid was forced into a corner like that with no one to help, causing him to act the way he did. He can still remember the look of rage on the kid's face, so blinding that the boy doesn't even notice the damage he was inflicting all around him as he absorbed too much energy. He doesn't even notice his siblings rushing in, yelling at him to stop.

He doesn't notice his older brother jump in between him and the students to save them from him. Not really. At least not as quickly as he should have.

When he stopped, everything was a wreck: some of the machines were fried, and several students were on the floor, struggling to get up despite their weakened states.

The video ended at the moment after the kid tried to check on Chase, after Adam and Bree stood in between the two of them, firmly preventing him from getting any closer while a look of fear and confusion reflected on their faces as they stared back at him.

"I don't like this."

Douglas catches a glimpse of the kid lying back down on the couch. He checks his watch. "Just a few more minutes, and then it will go away," he says.

"No. I meant this," he says, his words beginning to sound slow and slurred.

Douglas' brows wrinkle.

"Is it hard? Other people being scared of you?" he asks earnestly.

"What do you mean?"

"Like, does it get easier?" he explains. "People looking at you the way they do. Do you get used to it after a while?"

He expels a breath when he understands why he's asking. "Look, kid, I – I think once Donald gets this all straightened out, things are going to go back to—"

"I just wanted to know," the kid cuts him off unintentionally, "because now the people I care about are scared of me, too."

Douglas stares at him. He shakes his head. "They just don't understand right now," he explains consolingly. "When they do, they'll forgive you."

The boy bobs his head. He chuckles. "I don't know what you just gave me, but this stuff is good," he says.

Douglas finds himself smirking, thinking that the joke is a proof that the kid is drifting off and must therefore be forgetting all of his heavy concerns.

"Douglas?"

"Yeah."

"Are you going to fix my arm?"

"Yeah," Douglas nods, but somehow finds it difficult to do so. "Yeah, I'm just… I'm just going to lower something so everything will be easier to control."

"Okay," the kid says. A few beats afterwards, he says, "Can you do something for me?"

"Sure."

"Can you turn it off?" Leo takes in a calming breath. "I don't want my bionics anymore, and I want to go home."

Douglas looks at him in shock. "Look, kid, you don't have to do something so drastic. It was an accident," he reasons. "We just need to fix your arm, and after that you can go back with everyone and continue on in the Academy—"

"No," Leo says evenly. "I want to go back to Mission Creek, with my mom and Janelle and my grandma. That's where I should be."

"I don't think this is what you want."

"It is." Leo snuggles further into the comfortable couch. "I've thought about it. This is what I really, really want. This is for the best."

Anger bubbles up within Douglas. He hears his brother's voice echo the same words at the back of his head, This is for the best, but it only serves to fuel the fire. Really? For the best? The kid thinking like this is for the best? "Leo. Don't let those little snubs push you out of here," he says heatedly. "Don't let them be right in assuming you are weak."

"I don't have to prove anything to anyone. I know I'm not weak," Leo says. "And that's why I'm asking this. I'm thankful that you gave me a chance to experience these abilities, I am, but I don't like what it's turning me into. This is not who I am. I don't want to live the rest of my life constantly trying to prove something. That's exhausting, and I'm never going to be happy. Plus, with these, I will destroy everything I touch. Have destroyed everything I touched, actually." He shook his head. "My family is all I have. All of these are not worth losing all of you. I'd rather be back to the way I was before."

"So that's it," Douglas asks. "You're just going to throw everything away and go back to having a boring, normal life because of one mistake?"

Leo grins weakly as he gradually teeters between consciousness and sleep. "From the day I met Adam, Bree and Chase, there hasn't been such a thing," he responds. "With all of you, my life's never going to be boring. Or normal. And even without this, I still have big plans. I want to be an inventor, too. I'm not off to a very good start, but I'll learn." His smile widens. "So don't you worry about me. I have places to go."

Douglas wants to protest, to convince him otherwise, and to prove to the kid that he's being unreasonable and is probably really just talking under the influence of the sedative, but he doesn't. The kid's fighting off the effects of a strong medicine just to justify the favor he's asking of him, and that must count for something.

"So, can you do it?" Leo asks.

Douglas doesn't reply. Instead, he just consults his watch again. "Get some rest, kid," he says. "We'll talk when you wake up."

He expects at least a hum of agreement or a mumble regarding something irrelevant, but nothing comes.

He strains his eyes to see inside. No movement. He waits for five more minutes, and then he takes out the keys from his pocket. He unlocks the door, and then walks in. Light pushes into the room from behind him as quickly as the cold temperature sweeps past him to get out. He continues onward until he's in front of the couch where his step-nephew slept in peace, completely unaware now of everything around him.

Douglas taps a button on his com set. "Kid's asleep," he reports curtly.

"Oh, good," his brother says. "I'll have some of the—"

But Douglas doesn't let him finish. He switches off his device instead, and lets his brother talk into thin air.

His breath condenses in front of him as he inhales then exhales while looking down at the kid. It hasn't been very long since the last time they were in this situation, the boy being in deep slumber and him standing by as he makes a decision that will affect him the rest of his life. He guesses some of the things that were present then are still present now, the only major difference being the thing that lies broken before him.

Six months ago, the kid had a broken arm. Today, he has a broken heart.

It's not something he knows how to fix.

Out of instinct, Douglas reaches out for the kid's right hand – the one that's rising and falling on top on his stomach, the one that's caused so much destruction and had elicited baseless fear – and then taps it sympathetically. "I'm not scared of you, kid," he assures him, offering the boy the same kind of friendship that Donald and the three older children could not hold out to him during his first few days of repentance.

Only silence answers him.