There it was again. He couldn't help himself, he had watched without uttering a single word while they beat up his brother until his nose was a bloody mess and his glasses smashed into unmendable pieces. There were times where he had fought, he had beaten back and bit and made sure the others hurt for what they had done to their brother, but not once had he talked. Until today, that is.

"G-g-g-get away f-from him!"

They had stopped. They had stared. Then the worst thing that could have happened, happened.

"Oooooooh J-j-Jonathan! You c-can't s-s-speak~?"

They laughed the crude laugh of sixth graders, one that simply enraged even the most patient of kids.

"Sh-shut up-p!"

"Look at him, he's crying! Little baby Jonathan is crying because he c-c-can't speak p-p-p-properly!"

Tears did indeed run down his face, he noticed, as his eyes blurred over and his voice hitched even worse than earlier on. He stopped speaking as soon as he noticed the squeak, the hesitation, everything that made him seem weak.

"Not talking anymore? But it was so, funny! Come on J-J-J-Jonathan! Don't you want to make us laugh?" The kid stepped forward, grasping the boy's hair and roughly pulling his face up to meet his own snarling one. "Don't you want to amuse us, you ape?"

He remained quiet. That was the only thing that could protect him in this situation.

"Well, maybe you're not a monkey, but at least we can make you squeal like a pig. Your brother did that for us, why not you? Do you stutter when you scream, you little shit?"

Jonathan was stone cold now. Silent, as imperturbable as a rock face, he calculated the strength he would need to knock out the other boy, raised his arm, and simply struck him with all his might.

The kid remained paralyzed in shock for a few seconds, looking at Jonathan with wide eyes that bulged slightly out of his head, before he collapsed to the dirty school lino below.

The cronies looked at each other, concerned, before backing up and taking a run for it. They were wimps, for sure, but they were far from being as hypocritical as the one who had been their leader. The boy let out a small, disdainful "Tch," before walking over to his brother and helping him up from where he had been tossed to the floor.

"Wow Jonny, never knew you could just do that! How did you do it?"

He wanted to answer. He really did, but the words stayed stuck in his throat. They wouldn't come out, they couldn't come out. They were stuck. But Jonathan could answer with a simple shrug, no words needed. No more weakness needed.

Because he had now found strength in silence, and in that sole repose he would from now on forever stay.

The first day Jonathan attended the new school, he would have made sure that he looked perfect. Despite his second-hand uniform, his mother and he had worked on making it look absolutely perfect, new even. He had done the same with his own face and hair, gelling it back just so, applying makeup over his scars, freckles and other small imperfections that littered his face, erasing them from existence as far as anyone was aware. once he was finished, he stared at himself in the mirror for a little longer, before trying, once more, the thing that he had been testing these last few years.

"H-H-Hello…"

The brunet grunted in frustration. There was no use, it would never disappear overnight like that, even though he wished it would. The stutter had ruined his life and probably the one of his family, Roman was targeted because of this, his mother had problems holding down a job and letting him get orthophonical treatment at the same time. He was a drain on resources, a pain in the butt, as his brother would say.

But at least he had his refuge in silence.

The silence was his power. If he didn't speak, as long as he didn't open his mouth, he had the power over not only himself, but others too. He's scary. He's powerful. If he spoke… all that would be gone. It was a volatile power.

He turned his back on the mirror and exited the bathroom, grabbing his brand new school bag on his way out. The thing was of good quality, leather with the school crest emblazoned on it. Fortunately, it was a rental from the school; he didn't think his mom would have been able to afford such an expensive part of his uniform.

As usual, his mother was busy pottering around on her early morning kitchen routine, making sure her sons would be able to eat a good full meal before they even started the day.

"Hi Jonny!" she twittered, her voice high and happy. She seemed so much more excited about their first day than Jonathan and Roman combined, the latter of which was dozing off, glasses close to falling off his nose into his mug of tea.

"So, you're going to be good today Jonny, ok? Answer teachers when they ask you a question-"

"Mom," Roman interrupted, and to Jon's dismay, pushed his glasses back up his nose before they could fall into his morning beverage. "Jon won't speak, no matter how badly you want him to. Please stop annoying him, he can't help it."

She pursed her lips, looking like she was going to answer in a particularly scathing way, but in the end, she let it go and continued on cooking. The room went quiet, and several times Roman fell asleep in his bowl (serves him well for drinking tea and not coffee), but despite usually elbowing him awake again, Jonathan didn't feel like doing so this morning. This morning, despite seeming on top of everything and handling everything perfectly, deep down he didn't feel that way. The butterflies in his stomach were a classic reminder to the fact that he was going to be attending a new school, with new rules and new classmates who may or may not want to beat the shit out of him. He poured himself some coffee from the maker and sipped at it quickly, the black bean juice making the butterflies intensify their wing beating. There was the common silence at the table, before Jonathan hurriedly got up, eyed doefully by his brother, who watched him get up and go out of the kitchen, bemused. Roman looked at the clock: it was still six in the morning.

Jonathan put his brand new jacket on and adjusted his tie, taking one last glance in the mirror to check his foundation before he set off. His mother hurried after him, but there was no way he was going to let her kiss his cheek, so he simply went outside and smiled and waved at her as she said her goodbyes.

Newgate academy wasn't all that far from their house, which was a good thing seeing as the weather was stormy and threatening to rain at some point. The gate and main door were open, but there didn't seem to be anyone around yet in the gloomy old building, made even more foreboding by the clouded sky. It was so gloomy, in fact, that Jonathan jumped out of his skin when he was confronted with the silhouette of a hunched over lady.

"Here so early, new one?"

Her voice was old and croaky, like a toad's, and as she stepped into the light, Jonathan could see that her face was as covered in pustules as one would expect from the animal too.

He didn't reply, of course, only smiled. Either she hadn't seen, or she was dissatisfied with Jonathan's response, turning her back and humphing and stomping away from the scene.

There was no way that he wanted this, he had needed to feel stronger, not to feel so low as to have disappointed the janitor from his first day here. He held back tears, not wishing to do what he was planning on doing, but deciding that this decision was the only exception that he would make.

"H-h-hello m-m-m-ma'am," he said, very quietly. He didn't think that she had heard him, and indeed she had not, but someone, someone who had been sneaking around the school from the early hours of the morning, had listened very clearly to what Jonathan had to say, and how exactly he had said it.

"Why hello there, newbie," someone said behind him. Jonathan spun around on his heels, his complexion going from healthy to grey. There, standing tall and proper in his neatly shined shoes, was a white, blond boy, his smirk giving away his personality better than any number of years knowing him would.

"Seems like you have a small enunciation problem, hmm? Well… I can either get my pals to sort that out for you," he said, the bully in him showing that this school would be no better than the previous one that Jonathan had attended. "-Or you can join us, and help us get rid of the scum of this school. There's too much of that here, and you're either one of them, or you're with us. Now, what do you think, n-n-newbie?"

Jonathan snarled, but was not baited into saying anything more. He was silent, as he was supposed to be, but it was too late now. He was vulnerable, and sure he had the muscle to be a crony, but he was not going to do this because he enjoyed it, oh no. He had made a mistake, and this was on him now.

He nodded, and presented a hand for the blond to shake. The other boy quickly took it and shook it firmly, although his hand did get crushed in the process.

"Unwilling, huh? Remember, if you betray me, you're back in the pit with the others, and I do not give second chances, you get me?"

Another nod from Jonathan, and suddenly the handshake was over, and the blond was patting the brunet's back in a way that he tried to pass off as manly.

"Your secret's safe with me, buster. Yeah, that's your new name now, Buster. You're going to bust a lot of things on your first day here, trust me. Whatcha think about busting in the little fag's skull today, huh? If he hasn't quit and gone to the nun's, that is."

Jonathan didn't respond, only looked far ahead, trying his darndest not to bite his lip. He was not sadistic, he was not a bully, and he definitely didn't want to hurt some poor random kid who was probably only rumoured to be gay. In his mind's eye, there was nothing wrong with it, and if it were not for his slip-up, he would have probably tried to help the kid build his self-confidence and learn to stand up to the bullies that he had to endure. That was what Jonathan had done, after all.

This was the moment the brunet took his second life-changing decision. He would, no matter what, help this kid this blond fucker was so intent on hurting. Even if he had to go behind his "boss'" back, he would do whatever it took so that the boy could stand up to any abuse.

Even if it was by his own hand.