AN:
I do not own Harry Potter
So ive yet to get any reviews over chapter one, so ill continue with the current flow and format.
this is a short chapter concerning a dark time in my life. last names have been changed or omitted with respects to the deseaced.
Please enjoy and review.
Without further ado,
Onwards towards death and glory, FORTIS FORTUNA ADIUVAT.
Chapter 2:
October 31, 2002
Tyler and Lane were walking back from the laundry mat. Both where chatting but on edge. There had been an increase in violence in the area as of late. Rival gangs had been feuding, pressure from the police had increased as well, making the whole area unsafe and unstable. Scotts had been shot a few months ago on his way home from school, he'd forgotten to walk home with the others and got caught up in a shootout between the 67th Row and 51st street Crips. A few other kids had either gone missing or wound up dead in an ally.
"So, did you talk to the coach about trying out this year, or are you just going to show up gym and humiliate the starters again." Lane asked with a grin.
"You know I can't tryout." Retorted Tyler, "Coaches don't like me, upperclassmen don't like me, and the house sitter won't pay for the jersey or new shoes. And it's fun." He says with a little smile.
He was right of course, his shoes where hand me downs from several years, held together with glue and tape. And his clothes where no better, being old donations with holes and frayed. Tyler seemed to get the worst there was to offer, not that he ever complained. He was good at sewing, so he could take care of most patchwork, though he spent most of the scrap cloth patching up clothes for the other kids.
We got back to the home a few minutes later, most of the young kids were out gathering candy from the middle-class areas, the older ones where either working or partying. But not us. Tyler found no enjoyment in dressing up, and the only candy he likes where those hard-caramel candies that old people give out. Lane found that she enjoyed the things Tyler did, everything but his isolation.
As we walked in we found a group of young ones had already came back, gathered in the sitting room around their winnings from a night of raids on unsuspecting homes. They turned to see Lane, giving her a smile and welcoming her back. When their eyes fell on Tyler though the smiles fell and some flinched when they made eye contact. Tyler smiled at them, then approached, "hey Tim, looks like you fell down, your costumes torn, and your knee looks dirty." He said in a soft voice. "you didn't clean it did you?"
"no, I just kind of forgot."
"come here, ill clean your knee, and patch you bottom." Tyler said, avoiding eye contact, "I hear the gas station round 58th gives away their expired candy by the box." Making the children gasp.
Tim took off his costume and handed it to Tyler, sitting down in front of him, as Tyler grabbed a baby wipe from the cupboard. He began wiping the wound while blowing on it to dislodge any debris. Tim was talking animatedly to the others and didn't notice Tyler focusing intently on the wound and brushing his hand over it, causing it to slowly close.
Tyler's abilities have continued to evolve as he practiced. He could heal minor wounds, cause temperature changes, converse with animals, was somehow able to understand different languages, make things float, and change the color and appearance of things like clothes and small objects. All the kid's costumes had been made by Tyler using this method, disguising it as sewing. Tyler's eyes had also started to dart around, following something or things that others couldn't see,
After settling down, and repairing the costume, the kids rushed off to conduct their raid on the corner store. Lane brought out her school work, while Tyler relaxed against the wall, eyes chasing his invisible quarry. After a few minutes Lane decided to procure Tyler's help, "hey, I need your help on my math homework."
"you won't learn if I'm always the one to do it for you." He responded, eyes still chasing, but now changing the color of his shoe laces.
"I didn't say do it, I said help, now you're still honor bound might I remind you."
He focused his eyes on me, shoe laces turning back to a tattered white, "as you wish Madam Lane." He said rising, then bowing, crooked grin never leaving his face.
Lane felt her chest tighten, and her face heat up, 'god danm him and that smile' she thought to herself, 'and danm his eyes'. He had taken to calling her by different titles every time she used the bet 3 years ago. He always complied with her requests regardless of the bet or not, but she found that they both enjoyed the back and forth. He somehow managed to never use the same title twice.
He took his place across from her, legs crossed, levitating her textbooks over to him as he did so.
As the minutes progressed the silence was comforting. They relaxed together, Tyler made short work of her math, had completed her science work, and was making his way too her English textbook only to be stopped by Lane placing her feet in his lap. He looked up to see her smile then she wiggled her toes, "my feet are sore."
He gently gripped her foot and began massaging the soles of her feet. He closed his eyes and concentrated heat into his fingers causing Lane to sigh, then focusing on cooling his fingers making her gasp. He repeated this process for both feet until he saw her eyes close and her breathing begin to even out, 'she's asleep'.
Tyler packed her school work up and levitated it behind him as he picked her up, carrying her up towards the girls room.
After laying her down and storing her stuff in her locker, he made his way back down to the bottom floor. He started cleaning up the mess left by the young ones, and moved on to making sure the kitchen was clean for the morning.
Tyler remained cleaning until all the young kids made their way home and made sure they cleaned up and got to bed. He greeted some of the older kids that had come home during that time.
As he made his way up to the boys room and was on the second floor is when he heard the shouting coming from outside.
He made his way back down to the main room to find a few older boys peeking out the windows already, making room for himself, he saw outside that a large group of males where fighting in the street.
Then as a car rolled down the street, and as the group separated... the bullets started flying.
Windows were shattered, wood and brick flying. Screams rang out as the car windows came down and automatic fire tore through the crowd and homes behind it.
Tyler's home.
He dived for the floor, pulling the two boys down with him. As he was falling he saw the oldest kid, Johnathan, fall clutching his chest, blood spilled out between his fingers.
Bullets continued to ring out, tearing through the house, when there was an explosion from the kitchen.
Now fire was spreading through the house. Bullets rained down in the street. And the sirens only added to the chaos.
Tyler leapt up and checked outside, the men where scattering, the bullets still rang out but had diminished. But the fire had spread.
He sprinted up the stairs, covering his mouth from the smoke, heart pounding, bursting into rooms and grabbing anyone he could.
He began to carry them outside, away from the fire and smoke, before sprinting back in for more.
The some older kid joined him, but it became clear that most of the bodies they carried out were still. Unmoving. Bloody.
Dead.
But he kept running, kept climbing, grabbing anything that appeared human.
But for every crying kid he grabbed, he grabbed 3 still bodies.
He began to panic, panic because he hadn't seen Lane.
Lane wasn't helping to carry kids out. And he hadn't seen her being carried either.
He burst into the girls room and saw her.
There she was couched over another girl, they were both still breathing.
He grabbed them both, using his magic to clear the smoke as he struggled to bring them outside.
As he collapsed on the pavement, muscles aching, eyes and lungs burning. The fire department arrived and began fighting the fire.
He grabbed Lane and felt the warm stickiness on her back.
He stopped
He pulled her close to him and saw her face.
She was unusually pale, eyes faded, blood trailing from her mouth, her eyes focused on him.
And she smiled.
But her smile brought no joy to him, as she smiled he felt only pain.
"hold still, ok?" He pleaded, "I can stop the bleeding, I can stop it." He cried rubbing his hand against her back, trying to focus his powers. "you know I can, it's all going to be ok."
He continued to rub her back, but the wounds didn't close.
And for the first time in his life... he cried.
His tears dripped from his cheeks, landing on Lanes.
And that pain turned to hate.
Hate for those who had caused this, those who looked down on them for the simple fact that they were orphans.
How many times did he go hungry, how many times did he get harassed by police simply because he 'didn't belong here'.
He was hated simply because of the way he looked, the state of his clothes, the color of his eyes, the abilities he had.
People called him a freak simply because he was different.
People hated him.
With Lane gone, what was the point. She was his center.
His rock as he was buffeted on all sides.
With her gone... there was no reason for him to hold back.
"I will find them" he said in a low, deep, primal growl. "I will find them and make them pay. I will make them suffer."
As his thought sank into darkness, he felt strong.
Stronger that he had ever felt.
And this strength would be turned onto everyone who had hurt his family.
As his power pulsed, he felt the hand on his cheek.
"don't cry...don't...cry...Tyler..."
He opened his eyes and looked into hers.
"your...supposed... ...be...strong"
He grabbed her hand and gripped it tightly.
"d...don't...g...go...after...them..."
"but what do I do Lane?, they deserved be punished, for what they did." He cried. "They NEED to be punished!"
"b...be...better...please...be...better..."
"I don't know if I can Lane, not without you." He pleaded.
"y... you...you...can...your...strong...an...and...kind..."
"you...can...change...things...you...can...make...it...all...better..."
"please Lane, please."
"I... I...love you..."
He hands slackened, slipping from his grip, her eyes clouded and fell.
She was dead.
He gripped her close and the tears stopped.
Time passed, he didn't know how much. But when he looked up he saw the fire was almost gone, then a van pulled up.
The group home owner stepped out, surveying the damage. He made eye contact with Tyler for a second before grimacing. He made his way to the authorities, asking what had happened.
After getting the report, he and an assistant gathered up all the living young ones, the desirables.
The house once held around 40 kids, about 18 of them where within the desirable age limit. Only 7 of those kids where alive now.
Of the undesirable kids, around 22, only 5 where alive, including himself.
Tyler watched as the van left, then the police started to gather the bodies.
He let them take her body, watched them bag her up, watched them lay her in the truck with the others.
He saw the other survivors just kind of stand there, shaking from exhaustion and the cold.
They all looked at one another and knew.
Knew that the owner wasn't coming back.
Knew that they were on the own now.
Tyler rose, turning on his heel towards the factory district.
And left.
