Connor dragged himself to English, thankful that it was his last class of the day. Friday was his least favourite day of the week because it always seemed to drag on. He always felt more exhausted on Fridays than he did on other days and every other Friday, his father picked him up after school and carted him off to hell. Yet another reason to hate the last day of the week.

"Hey, Connor," Daria said, pausing at his desk.

"Oh, hey."

Daria was nice, he supposed, although she was weird around him like all of his classmates were. While he'd always known of her, he'd never really had the opportunity to talk to her before they were in this English class together. She was a little strange, though, and it went slightly beyond the way that most of his peers were strange to him. Sometimes she would talk to him for a week straight and then she would ignore him for two weeks and then that routine would flip flop.

"How are you?" he asked her.

Daria rolled her eyes. "I'd be doing better if it weren't for this class."

"But we're doing To Kill A Mockingbird!" Connor didn't even think about being embarrassed over his excitement. He had no shame in proclaiming his love for this novel.

"The book doesn't make any sense, not so far. Like, when I heard people talk about this book before, it was all about Boo Radley. I thought he was the main character, not some kid."

After reading Mockingbird the first time, Connor had been in love with it. Couple that with his sudden and copious amounts of free time, and Connor had read a near ridiculous amount of online literary analysis essays on the novel.

"Boo Radley is supposed to be –" Connor cut himself off when he realized Daria wasn't listening to him, more focused on flipping through her copy of the novel.

She looked up at him. "You know, it's kind of creepy that a kid is dealing with all of this. I wouldn't even want to deal with it."

"Kids deal with stuff all the time," Connor reminded her. "We deal with stuff too."

"Oh." Daria's dark eyes widened. "Connor, I didn't mean –"

Neither did I," he said quickly, his body feeling strangely heavy. Would they ever let him forget, even for a single moment, that he had been completely set apart from them two years ago? Connor longed for Jude's company; he, who didn't know and who had never judged because of that ignorance.

Daria's expression flickered and without another word, she darted to her seat. Connor had a feeling they were about to kick off another stint of not talking.

"All right, class," Mrs. Saum said, finally beginning. "I assume you've all finished part one, at least by this point."

There was a collective mumbling; not really an agreement but not really a disagreement either.

"Does anyone have any questions before I start the lesson?" Mrs. Saum asked.

Maddie's hand hit the air. "I don't really get the quote at the beginning. I mean, like yeah, Atticus and stuff but there had to be a better quote than that one. I just don't think that one gets the whole novel, you know?"

Mrs. Saum nodded as Maddie talked. "Class, what do you think of Charles Lamb's quote at the beginning?"

Connor liked the quote and thought the book would look weird without it, even if there was a different quote to take its place. But, what he liked more, was how he could hear Jude's voice with perfect clarity, stumbling over the words again and again until it sounded like he'd never had any trouble with them at all.

(-.-)

Jude let himself in the back door of the house as quietly as possible. The attic stars were right by the back entrance, so he wouldn't have to spend any time on the main floor. He hated the main floor – it was where Nic and his goons hung out, and, at any given time, there was bound to be at least one of them around. Jude didn't like them, but they liked him even less. Jude didn't even want to think of what they would do to him if he wasn't Callie's brother. Callie, who was important to them, Nic especially.

He walked up the attic stairs, just as silently as he'd walked in the house. He didn't want to attract the attention of whoever might be lurking around; he wasn't supposed to disturb anything or anyone. He was supposed to act like he didn't exist. He made it up to the top of the stairs and twisted the doorknob to his and Callie's apartment. The door swung open and Jude crept inside hesitantly. The miniscule kitchen was empty and so was the living room; the bathroom door was hanging open. He was about to check the bedroom he and Callie shared when that door opened and it was his sister who stepped out. Jude relaxed only when he realized Callie was alone.

"Where have you been?" she asked, like she hadn't been gone for days.

Jude reached into the front pocket of his black hoodie, producing one of the little plastic containers his hair dye came in. "My roots are showing."

"Want me to do it?" Callie asked, and Jude passed her the container.

He sat down on the arm of one of the armchairs Callie had picked up from the side of the road, waiting as his sister fetched plastic gloves from a bag Jude had acquired a while ago.

"Hoodie off," Callie reminded him.

Jude shrugged out of it, dropping it onto the seat of the chair.

"So, where were you?" he asked, knowing it was unlikely she'd tell him.

"I told you that I was going to have to start going on regular trips."

"I just like it when I know where you are." Or if she was alive. He wasn't even sure if anyone would tell him if Callie were killed at … work. And if Callie were dead, or anything happened to her at all, Jude knew that he wouldn't make it.

"I'll try to start leaving you notes," Callie promised, rubbing the dye into his hair. Jude's scalp prickled as the cool dye touched him. "I'll hide them in the closet, though. Just in case."

"Okay." Not that it would matter.

"Someday you're going to get caught," Callie said suddenly. "A kid with blue hair wanders in and all of a sudden blue hair dye is missing? Especially since we have to do this every month."

"I'm careful," Jude insisted. "I go to different stores every time."

"I'm just saying –"

"It's not like you could do it," Jude interrupted. Callie was no good at shoplifting; he always had to do it for them.

Sternly, Callie said, "Whatever you do –"

"Don't get caught." Jude parroted back the words that had come to govern his life. "Don't talk to the police or any other authority. Don't bring unwanted attention to myself. Make sure I can run faster than everyone else."

"And?"

"Don't tell anyone anything. If asked, my last name is Smith and I don't have a sister."

"Good." Callie smoothed her hands through his hair, making sure all the strands were saturated. "There. Now you just need to cook for half an hour."

"I know the drill."

"I'm going down to the basement."

Jude made a face. He'd only been the basement once, but that was one time too many. Not only was it disgusting, it was also a huge slap of reality. While Jude was always aware of the big picture of what Callie did for Nic and who she was to him, she had always kept the details from him. Therefore, he had a certain level of disassociation with it. Callie had a purpose in keeping him away from the bulk of her life, though. If push came to shove and something went wrong, she wanted him to truthfully be able to say he knew nothing about Nic and that he had never done anything for Nic. It was one of the few things she could do to save Jude.

"It's not that bad," Callie said, although she knew it was a lie.

"No, it's worse," Jude agreed cheerfully.

"It's not like we're chopping up bodies." Callie rolled her eyes.

"No, you're just cooking meth."

Callie glared at him. "I didn't ask your opinion."

"That wasn't an opinion, although, trust me, I have one."

"Ugh. I'll be back. Stay –"

"Here. I know. I even know that I have to lock the door behind you."

Callie nodded at her brother, having nothing else to say to him. She left the apartment and stood outside the door until she heard him lock the door like he had promised, and then she continued down into the basement.

After locking the door, Jude went into their bedroom, making sure he didn't even come close to touching his head to anything. Callie just might kill him if he stained something blue. Jude fetched To Kill A Mockingbird from the bottom drawer of the dresser. When they had gotten the dresser, Callie had promised him she would never open the bottom drawer and that, in a world that they shared entirely, it would be his one slice of privacy. The book in his hand, he returned the armchair, sitting in the seat sideways so his hair would remain untouched. Jude opened the book to the first page. Yesterday, he had only managed to read one and a half pages before he couldn't handle it anymore. Like always, he had waited for Connor to laugh at him, but like always, Connor never did. He didn't push Jude to read more once Jude had slammed the book shut – although he did solicit a promise that Jude would at least look at up to page five. Instead of continuing with reading, they had played cards for the rest of the afternoon.

Jude opened the book, once again thinking the type was too small. He whispered the words to himself as he read, going back to the very first page.

"When he was nee-ar-ly thi … thir … thirteen …"

(-.-)

Connor opened his arms so that Adam could settle the aging cat on his son's stomach while Connor laid on the couch. Connor ran his hand over Jellybean's soft grey head and she began to purr, pushing herself into his palm. Connor had picked her out when he was only two years old and she had been his cat, and his alone, ever since.

"Make sure she doesn't scratch you," Adam warned.

Jellybean flipped onto her back, revealing her white tummy. Connor continued to pat her as he said, "Dad, Jelly wouldn't know how to scratch if her life depended on it."

Adam could only stare at his son, because he didn't hear Connor's voice saying the words but, rather, his late wife's.

"Do you really think the cat's okay to stay there?" Adam asked as they peeked into their then three-year-old son's bedroom. Jellybean was curled on Connor's pillow, right next to his brunet head, her own eyes closed in sleep. "What if she scratches him?"

His wife had only rolled her eyes. "Adam, Jelly wouldn't know how to scratch if her life depended on it."

Adam wished that she were here now; that she were alive instead of him. It would be better for Connor. But she wasn't here; she had died, and Adam had to do the precious little it could.

"Do you want anything to eat?" he asked Connor.

Predictably, Connor shook his head. "I'm not hungry."

Adam wouldn't be hungry either if he'd been the one who had spent the past while throwing up.

"You need to at least drink something. Orange juice?" he suggested.

"Apple juice? It burns less."

"Sure. Whatever you want."

Adam went to the kitchen, pouring the drink into one of the cups with a lid. He poked a straw through the little hole and carried it into the living room where Connor was still on the couch. He was ignoring the TV in favour of his deep conversation with Jellybean and, for a moment, Adam was fiercely jealous of the animal; he wished Connor could talk to him like that. He placed the cup on the floor next to the couch and then he sunk into his armchair. Connor had fallen silent when his father entered the room, but he only twisted to look at his dad when the man turned the television off.

"I want to talk to you about something."

Adam's tone made Connor sit up slowly, relocating Jellybean into his lap. He held onto her as he asked, "Something bad?"

"Good, if it works out." The words weren't as assuring as Adam intended them to be. "I was talking to my boss today and there's a promotion coming up in November that he wants to recommend me for. It'd be more money but I'd only have to work four days a week."

We'd have more time together. Connor mentally filled in the blank. More time together was important, despite how time together often ended in fighting. The arguing was abating with every passing week though, Adam swallowing his words and instead making himself turn into the paragon of paternal love. Connor would have preferred to fight; he was used to that. His father being overly sweet only made his heart ache because it was a reminder of all that had happened and all that he had yet to deal with.

"That sounds like a good thing."

"The catch is that, in order to be eligible, I need to attend a conference that's happening Halloween weekend."

"It's only October second," Connor protested.

"I know." Adam made a face. "But they need me to dedicate myself to it now. But it's not like we know what things are going to be like by the end of the month."

"Things are fine. Things will be fine."

It hurt Adam to hear how old his fifteen-year-old son sounded.

"Even if they are, I don't want to leave you alone, especially not for an entire weekend."

"I'm not going to be babysat."

"Alternatives?" Adam asked, voice tight. He watched Connor curl Jellybean's tail around his finger. "The cat is not adequate company."

Jellybean glared at Adam.

"I'll have a friend from school come stay with me," Connor suggested.

"Who?"

"I dunno." Connor rolled his eyes. "I have an entire month to figure it out."

But he did know. There was only one person who would want to hang out with him for an entire weekend. Luckily, it was the same person Connor wanted to spend an entire weekend with.

"Mhmm," Adam mused.

"It'll be fine. Plus, going for a couple of days will be worth having every Friday off."

Adam nodded. Connor made sense.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"If you get every Friday off work, does that mean I get every Friday off school?"

"No," Adam said with a touch of humour in his voice. "We talked about this. Best case scenario, school."

Connor rolled his eyes and even Jellybean didn't look sold on the idea. "Dad, school is the worst-case scenario."

Despite everything, despite the lie, Adam made himself laugh because Connor finally sounded like a teenager.

(-.-)

Jude showed up at the Centre early on Tuesday. Nic had shown up at the attic door and that was Jude's cue to disappear completely. He waved hello to Norma and settled into his tie dye bean bag chair. Connor was sitting at one of the long tables, a girl on one side and a boy on the other.

"Mary, Michael, come on!" Connor attempted to push Michael's chair further away from him and, consequently, further away from his antagonistic sister, but he couldn't get it to go very far. In an effort to distract them from their growing spat, Connor blurted out, "What's eight times seven?"

"Sixty-five!" Michael said confidently, trying to scoot his chair back to its original position.

"Hey, idiot, it's fifty-six!" Mary snapped.

"Let's try to be nice," Connor suggested, not knowing what else to do.

"He is an idiot," Mary argued. "He got the question wrong!"

"That doesn't mean he's an idiot," Connor said. "It means he's still learning."

"Or maybe he's a moron."

With a cry, Michael leapt from his seat, across Connor and onto his sister. He knocked her off her seat and they both fell to the floor with a crash. Mary scratched at him with her long nails while Michael had one hand full of her hair. Connor pulled helplessly at Michael, not having the strength to do anything more. In the end, it took two of the senior tutors to separate the duelling siblings.

"This is stupid!" Mary screamed, stamping out of the room.

"Fuck everything!" Michael agreed and raged after his sister.

Jude watched as one of the older tutors, one who had helped separate Mary and Michael, touched Connor's shoulder, saying, "Maybe you should take on early day? I'll explain why to Lena. It won't influence your hours."

Connor nodded at the girl's suggestion. "Thanks, Mariana." He gathered up his bag and other things. By the time he was done, Jude had packed up his cards and was waiting in the doorway of the multi-purpose room. They fell into step as they left the room, heading toward the door of the Centre.

"That was dramatic," Connor commented.

Jude rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't be surprised if they planned it in order to get out of tutoring."

"Do you really think I'm that bad of a tutor?" Connor teased.

"You don't want to know the answer," Jude answered, grinning. He glanced up at Connor, who was smiling weakly. He looks wiped out today, Jude thought.

They reached the coffee shop and Jude held open to the door for Connor, as he always did. To his surprise, Connor then broke routine. Instead of going to stand in line while Jude went to sit down, Connor handed Jude his wallet.

"I'm just tired today," he explained, and Jude bought it. He looked a little dead on his feet. "I'm going to go sit down."

Jude went to stand in line, feeling uncomfortable, as Connor went and sat down on one of the small couches at the back of the shop. Jude looked away from his friend and down at the brown leather wallet in his hands. Jude turned the wallet over, playing with it, wondering all the while what Connor was thinking. Jude could think of no one else who would trust him with a wallet. He looked like a street kid; looked like the walking embodiment of the stereotypical kid who would unapologetically steal said wallet. However, the thought of taking the wallet and running never crossed Jude's mind. Connor could have had a thousand dollars sitting in his wallet and Jude wouldn't have felt the impulse to steal it. Feeling as if he were doing something wrong, nonetheless, Jude opened the wallet. There was a bank card and an assortment of gift cards in the card slots. In the clear slot where a driver's licence would go if Connor were old enough to have one, there was a picture of a woman, maybe in her mid-twenties. She had bright blue eyes, a bright smile, and long brown hair that reached down her back. In her arms, she held a chubby baby, who looked to be about two. Jude looked away from the photo as the cashier called, "Next!"

"Hi!" she chirped brightly. "What can I get for you today?"

"Um … two medium hot chocolates and a cinnamon bun," Jude said.

The cashier hit a few buttons on her till. "Seven-fifty, please!"

Jude opened the bill part of the wallet. Connor had forty dollars just sitting in there. For a moment, Jude felt jealous. What kind of life did Connor lead, where he was able to just have forty dollars just sitting there? Where he was able to spend seven-fifty twice a week on two drinks and a cinnamon bun? Jude couldn't even begin to comprehend that world.

Hand shaking, Jude handed the cashier one of the ten-dollar bills. The cashier quickly counted out Jude's change and passed it back. Jude put it into the bill part of the wallet and, for the briefest moment, he let himself think about what he and Callie could do with thirty-two dollars and fifty cents. The thought disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and Jude snapped the wallet shut. Stealing from Connor was not something that he could ever do to his friend. He slid the wallet in his back pocket to free his hands and picked up their two drinks and cinnamon bun. He carried it over to the coffee table that was in front of the couch and he sat it all down carefully. He took the wallet out of his pocket and gave back to Connor as soon as he was able. As Connor put his wallet away, Jude sat down.

"I have something for you," Connor said, rifling into the depths of his bag.

"You didn't have –"

Connor shut down Jude's protest. "I know. Though if it makes you feel better, it all came from the dollar store."

All? Jude picked up on the word. Connor sat up and put Jude's gifts on the table: a package of pens, a package of sticky notes, and a pocket dictionary.

"When we were reading the other day, there were a couple of words we didn't know."

While Jude was sure that Connor knew all of the words in To Kill A Mockingbird – words like assuaged and piety – he also knew he would never be able to express how grateful he was for the use of the word 'we'.

"So," Connor continued, seeing the small grin that appeared on Jude's face, "I thought we could put in sticky notes with the definitions. It might make reading when you're on your own easier."

"Thank you," Jude murmured, feeling touched that Connor would even think of him outside of their Tuesday and Thursday meetings.

Connor opened both the pen package and the sticky note package before he collected the dictionary into his lap. "I'll take notes while you read."

Jude's hand ghosted across the front pocket of his hoodie, feeling the novel. "You're going to get tired of hearing the same few pages."

"No," Connor argued, "I won't."

Not only could he happily read Mockingbird over and over again for the rest of his life, but he could happily listen to Jude, specifically, read Mockingbird over and over.

Jude pulled the book out of his pocket, stopping to stare down at the cover. While he paused, Connor spoke. "Do you mind?" Before Jude could ask 'what?' he felt Connor's head rest against his shoulder. "I'm just … tired."

Jude tensed at the touch. He couldn't remember the last time someone had rested themselves comfortably against him. He and Callie didn't touch. She did his hair and sometimes he couldn't duck her exasperated slaps. There had been others who had touched him with more brutality than Callie's smacks. But there was no one who touched him affectionately. Jude realized, in that moment, how much Connor must trust him.

He opened To Kill A Mockingbird, trying not to make Connor's sleepy gesture into more than it was. Slowly, Jude began to forge through the words he'd read through multiple times. He'd gone over them, time and time again, whenever he was alone in the apartment. He'd thought that he had the first page down well (better than expected of him, at least) but he fumbled through the words distractedly. The warm, heavy weight of Connor's head was disorienting. When he got to the second sentence, Jude reached the word 'assuaged'. Jude paused as Connor picked up the new dictionary and found the word. He squeezed the definition onto one of the short sticky notes and then passed the sticky to Jude so that he could put it in the book.

Jude stared at the yellow note and Connor's cramped handwriting. If he thought the black type was hard to read, the blue writing was much worse. Jude squinted at it, trying to see if he could read it. He stuck in the book a moment later. He would try to puzzle that out at a different time. He went back to reading.

Connor was quiet, listening to Jude's voice. It wasn't until Jude had to ask if 'consulted' sounded like's-ah-lt' or 's-uh-lt' (because he couldn't remember how Connor had pronounced it last day) that Jude realized Connor had fallen asleep. Jude froze, unsure of what to do. He didn't want to bother Connor, who desperately looked like he needed the sleep, but he didn't know if Connor would want to be left asleep, especially not propped up on Jude in public like this.

Connor sighed in his sleep and his head tilted backward, almost looking like it was going to slide between the back of the couch and Jude's shoulder. Jude slouched down, tucking his shoulder tightly against the back of the couch to keep Connor's head at a good angle. Connor snuggled his head into Jude's shoulder and Jude's lips twitched into a smile as Connor's fine hair tickled his neck.

Then, as quickly as Connor had fallen asleep, his head jerked up and his eyes opened. Blinking blearily, he focused on Jude and mumbled, "Sorry."

"It's okay," Jude said, "I don't mind."

Connor leant forward and picked up his hot chocolate mug. "How long was I asleep?"

"Only, like, ten minutes."

"Good." Connor brought one leg up underneath of him and twisted sideways on the couch so that he was facing Jude. "What were you saying before I passed out?"

Jude pointed at the page. "How do you say this one?"

"Con-sul-ted," Connor broke down the syllables for him.

Jude stared down at the book, feeling unmotivated. He closed the novel and put it on the table, eating a piece of the cinnamon bun. When he glanced up Connor was staring at him.

"What?" Jude asked.

"Your hair looks bluer," Connor observed. "Did you do something to it?"

"I dyed it on Friday. It's the same colour. It just looks brighter because by the end of the month it gets really faded."

"So, you dye it a lot?" Connor asked.

"Every month," Jude answered, trying not to fidget. Connor was still staring.

"What's your natural colour?"

"Blue."

"Okay, Sonic, don't tell me." Connor squinted. "Are you a blond?"

"What? No."

"You're sure?" Connor reached forward, lifting a section of Jude's shaggy bangs. Jude kept a careful eye on Connor's hand, feeling the warmth of his fingers against his forehead. "Your eyebrows look light enough for a blond."

Jude's hand shot up to wrap around Connor's wrist, pulling his friend's hand away from his face. Shaking his head to make his hair fall back into place, Jude said, "Brown, since you care so much. Kind of like yours." It was lighter than Callie's anyway. Jude hadn't seen his real hair, in full, for a long time now.

"Was that so hard?" Connor teased.

"Yes," Jude said, feeling a flash of heat rush across his face as he realized he was still holding onto Connor … and that Connor was letting him. Hurriedly, Jude released Connor. "Now you need to tell me something."

"I'm a natural brunet if that's what you're asking." Jude didn't even dignify that with a response. Connor read his face and asked, "What do you want to know?"

"What do you want me to know?"

Connor blinked, all of the things he didn't want Jude to know rushing into his head. There were so many truths that he'd never tell Jude because that would mean Jude would stop looking at him like he was now, like he was an equal. Connor didn't know what he would do if there ever came a day when Jude stopped being able to look him in the eye. He hadn't even known Jude a month yet but he already needed Jude's company more than Connor had ever needed another person's before.

"Almost everything," Connor revealed.

Jude's dark eyes peeked at him over his porcelain mug. He lowered his hot chocolate away from his mouth in order to say, "Well … what don't you want me to know?"

"I'm an international drug lord."

Instead of laughing, Jude's mouth set into a hard line. "Let's stick to the truth."

"Okay," Connor agreed and he thought of something funny about himself; something that would make Jude laugh like he had originally intended. "I've never told anyone this but, do you know the song 'It Wasn't Me'? The one by Shaggy?"

Jude nodded.

"When I was three, I could sing the entirety of it. I knew every word. Actually … I can still do it."

Jude's slow smile half crept across his face. "Prove it."

"We're in public!" Connor protested.

"Chicken."

"Damn right," Connor agreed, and he fought back a yawn. "Read me a few pages?"

"Needy," Jude grumbled, but he picked up the novel anyway, trying to find his place by running his finger down the page.

Connor moved on the couch so that his head was on Jude's shoulder again. "Are you sure this is okay?"

"Yeah, as long as you're comfortable," Jude said casually, while his stomach twisted itself into knots. "Our fat-th-er said we were both ri-g-h-t … right. Being So-uth –"

"South. Sorry, but you always separate the 'so' weird. Is that how you normally say it?"

"No. South," Jude said pointedly. "Southern-ners, it was a source of sh-shame that we had no re-e-cord-ded an-c-est-ors –"

"Not a hard 'c'," Connor interrupted again, reminding Jude of the pronunciation. "Ancestors."

"I would've corrected myself," Jude replied defensively.

"Sorry." Connor's head snuggled further in toward Jude's neck and instinctively, Jude rested his head against Connor's. "But I'm impressed. You're doing really well."

"Thanks," Jude said, embarrassed by the praise.

"Now, come on. Read me more!" Connor requested.

"Needy," Jude repeated under his breath but continued on, as they both knew he would. "Ancestors on ee-ither s-side …"

So, on tumblr I'm: we are all of legend now (with dashes between every word). If you want to find my replies to anon reviews, add backslash tagged backslash anon dash replies. If you want to see anything I post about The Island Of Misfit Toys, go to my tumblr URL and add backslash tagged backslash the dash island dash of dash misfit dash toys. Punctuation is spelled out due to Fanfiction's restrictions. If you're having any trouble accessing the tumblr content please send me a pm and I can format it for you in a different way.

~TLL~