Chapter 4: The Ties that Bind

Hey, I'm back! and very happy to be so. Sorry for the lack of updates for SO long, it's NOT because I don't want to/can't be bothered to finish this but I've been really busy working on my own novel, so all my writing time has gone into that. But I finished it yesterday, so am now free to update my lagging fanfiction account!

I wrote all of this in one single, 1 hour sitting, so I hope its alright! Any comments/criticism/questions would be most appreciated, it really makes my day!

Hope you like it!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The school grounds shone pale as bone in the deepening twilight, their carved turrets and towers as beautiful and delicate as bone. But Gregory barely noticed them. Instead he carried on running, head down, breathing hard, on his fifth and final lap of the school grounds. It was the end of his first week at the school and, thankfully, his little evening runs were attracting less attention than before. It was necessary, the British blonde told himself, to run like this if he wanted to stay as fit as he had been in MI6, but that didn't stop all the opened windows, jeers and peering eyes from throwing his concentration.

Apparently, French boys never moved faster than a walk.

The arched entrance to the dorms loomed in front of him and Gregory let his pace beginning to slow. Gasping, he dropped his shoulders and leaned against the comforting cold stone, face flushed and with his tee-shirt stuck tight to his slender torso. Moonlight turned his blonde hair silver and reflected off the blue of his eyes. To anyone watching he would have seemed like some kind of frail angel…but nobody was watching, Gregory told himself, and shoved the dorm door open, staggering up the stairs on legs that felt (and wobbled) like jelly.

Whoever said exercise was good for you definitely didn't go on five mile jogs at nine o'clock at night!

The stairway was pitch dark, and Gregory stumbled, cursing, over every fifth step at least. Once again, he wondered what madness made him go out at night of all things, but the answer came back, as reasonable as before.

The work at this school was awful. There was just so much; at least four hours a night, most of which was conducted in supervised study sessions that went on well past seven o'clock, meaning that, even he ran straight from the study hall, skipped dinner and changed in thirty seconds, the earliest he could get outside would be eight.

He hadn't even joined the normal classes yet (he was still awaiting the results of his entrance exam) and already he was snowed under with math sheets and essays!

"Bloody French." Gregory muttered as he crept into the landing that he and Pip shared with Christophe and Kenny. "Bloody, bloody French." But there was no answer, there never was, and he reached the door to his rooms alone, slipping the key into the lock and entering without a single answering sound from the room beyond. The lights were low, so he automatically assumed that Pip had gone to sleep, so imagine his surprise when he found his roommate still up at his desk, surrounded by a mound of homework papers, pen-in mouth and snoozing gently, as though he had fallen asleep in the middle of his work.

An identical frown creasing his own brow, Gregory dropped his running kit on the end of his bed and approached his friend, eyeing the pile in confusion.

Pip was not the cleverest of students, but he got his good grades through hard work and organization, so late-night homework marathons were definitely not his style. What was more, he had said to Gregory that very morning that he had nothing on his homework schedule that night, so was looking forward to a free evening.

So what was he doing now…..?

One glance at the work confirmed his worst fears.

Explain the Significance of the Windmill in the French Classic, Lettres de mon Moulin. Read the title. Essay written by Kenny McCormick

Ah.

"Pip?" Gregory asked, trying to control the anger in his voice. Gently, he reached out and shook his friend awake, sympathy twisting inside him as he saw the bleary shadows under the smaller boy's eyes. He looked exhausted…and that only angered Gregory further.

"Huh?" Pip muttered, stuffing his fists into his eyes and rubbing hard "Uh…Gregory? What're you still doing up?"

"I was about to ask you the same question." Gregory said, his voice strained "But then I read that title and it all made sense." Pip paled at his words, glancing sheepishly at the essay

"I-its not t-too hard, Gregory…" he mumbled "Just four p-pages…not that much…I just got a little bit sleepy that's all."

"I'll bet you are!" Gregory growled "How long have you been at this?" Pip's head dropped right down at this question, as though he was trying to hide his answer in his scruffy school collar.

"Five hours."

"Five HOURS??" Gregory almost screamed, then quickly lowered his voice; he didn't want Kenny and Christophe to wake up, no matter how tempting the thought of beating them up felt right then. "It wasn't just this essay was it? All this is his, right?" he waved a hand at the huge pile "and you're been wasting all your spare time doing it for him? Pip, you should learn to stand up to him! He's a bully and bastard who's just using you for your brains! Don't you understand that?!"

"But…but if I don't h-he…" Pip looked up at him, a strange emotion shining in his eyes. There was fear there, certainly, but it was mixed with something that Gregory didn't understand; a sort of tenderness. "Please Greg, you don't understand what its like!"

"Yes I do. Believe me, I've seen enough people intimidates, blackmailed…"

"But I haven't even told you the half of it-!"

"Then tell me!"

"No!" The ferocity of the reply surprised them both. Pip looked positively terrified now, his mouth opening and shutting like a fish out of water. Silence yawned between them for a moment as both boys tried to calm themselves down, then Gregory forced himself to smile, nudging Pip gently on the shoulder.

"Alright. Its alright Pip, I understand. But you really shouldn't be doing this…" He reached over and deliberately prized the essay from his friend's hands "…this late at night. Finish it in the morning, ok? Just get some sleep for now."

"But…"

"Not a debating issue." Gregory cut across him, then smiled to himself; he sounded just like his old boss at M16! Ah well, some habits never faded. "Bed. Now."

"Gre-"

"Now!" and eventually, Pip nodded. Within minutes, both lay in their bunks, Pip's breathing slowing quickly into slumber. But Gregory's eyes remained open, despite the tiredness in his body from the run. He couldn't stop worrying about his little blonde friend, and every time he did so the hatred for the boys across the hall doubled in intensity, boiling like acid in his brain.

Even if he changed nothing else in this miserable place, Gregory vowed, he would make life better for Pip.

Nobody deserved to suffer like he did, especially not at the hands of scum like McCormick and Delorne.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The Next Day

"Ah! Carmichael!" The headmaster greeting was jarringly cheerful as Gregory warily entered his office, having been summoned out of the breakfast hall 'urgently' over the school intercom. As the head motioned him into one of the squishy leather chairs in front of his desk, Gregory tried to still the tremors of anger running up his spine. Having a hundred pairs of hostile male eyes scrutinize him as he walked out of the breakfast hall was definitely not an experience that he would have enjoyed at the best of times. If this chirpy greeting was supposed to make the headmaster seem likeable, Gregory thought, then he could certainly have done a lot better…that grin looked big enough to swallow him whole.

"You wanted to see me, headmaster?" he said woodenly, refusing to relax into his seat.

"Yes! Yes of course!" The headmaster blustered, and Gregory noticed the papers clutched in his hand for the first time. It appeared to be some kind of letter, though ut had been crumpled eagerly far too many times to tell for sure. It was this paper that the headmaster waved in his face as he continued, his eyes and smile sparkling whiter-than-white

"I just wanted to let you know that the results for your entrance exam were outstanding!" he boomed "Absolutely outstanding! Highest on record in fact, and we are overjoyed to accept you as the newest pupil in our wing for 'gifted and talented' students!"

Gregory's stomach hit the floor. Gifted and talented? Sounded like a breeding ground for nerds.

"Um, that's very….kind of you?"

"Not at all, my boy, not at all! Your new teacher's name is Professor Spindex, and don't you forget it! Now, if you would be so kind, Miriam, my secretary, will show you to your new classroom. Miriam!" he rapped sharply on the desk and a pale wisp of a woman, with huge spectacles and a baggy cardigan clinging to her shoulders.

"This way Master Carmichael," she said in heavily accented English. Gregory nodded and let himself be led from the room, ready to go along with anything that got him away from the creepy headmaster. The man was still looking at him like he was a piece of meat, albeit an exceptionally clever one.

Gregory sighed inwardly as the school corridors blurred around him and his frail little guide. The reason for his grades wasn't too hard to explain; MI6 had high standards and he had never had trouble in besting those. Fluent in six languages (including French) and able to translate algebraic equations as easily as a kindergartener would read a picture book, if he had got anything less than 100 in those tests then he had never been fit to be a British agent.

Still, the only place his cleverness seemed to have landed him was in trouble. Because he's had separate lessons up until that day, Gregory had managed to keep himself neutral with just about everyone in the school. He was seen as a new kid and not much else (apart from with McCormick and Delorne. The former thought he was a punchbag like Pip and the latter…well…a flush decorated Gregory's pale cheeks…he would very much like to know what Delorne thought, and something inside him was praying frantically that it would be good)

"Here we are, Master Carmichael." Miriam the secretary whispered at his side. Gregory looked up for the first time and found himself staring at a tall wooden door with a heavy brass handle in the side of it. It was this handle that Miriam was turning now, ushering through the gap without so much as a 'good bye and good luck'.

The light in the room was intolerably bright after the dingy hallway, and Gregory had to use all of his willpower not to throw up his arms and squint like some kind of sun-deprived mole. He couldn't afford to look like an idiot, not in front of a bunch of potentially hostile, and very intelligent, classmates.

That brought another smile to his face. Potentially hostile? It looked like he wasn't going to be shifting the spy-talk any time soon.

He blinked the brightness away and found himself staring at a small, low-ceilinged room filled with around twelve other boys, all of which (thankfully!) looked pretty ordinary.

The desks that they sat at were old-style Victorian and piled high with papers and text books, most of which Gregory had studied years ago and in far more complicated languages. These facts should have made Gregory feel comfortable, but when the entire class was staring at him intently, the effect is ruined pretty quickly.

"Ah, I take it you are Mr. Gregory Carmichael?" a voice at his side made him jump. He turned to find himself being stared at by a snort balding man with a bent back and a monocle hanging from one eye. As he spoke, the man offered a wrinkled palm to his new student, indicating that he should shake it.

"Um…yes?" Gregory replied, accepting the handshake "And you are Mr. Spindex?" The old man nearly wrung his knuckles off when he heard that.

"Of course!" he beamed "And you, my boy, are the first student to have pronounced it correctly since young Mr. Broflovski, and with a name like his, he could hardly get mine wrong!"

"Thank you?" Gregory said awkwardly, unsure exactly how he should be reacting to all of this. Luckily Mr. Spindex finally realized how embarrassing he was being…and reacted in the worst way possible.

"The headmaster says you are quite the wonder child, Mr. Carmichael." He said, with a hint of skepticism in his voice "Though, of course, that is a mandatory requirement for those who want to be in this class. However, with your exam results…"

"Please, professor." Gregory said quickly, mortified. He didn't want everyone to know about his results just yet. "I'd rather keep that to myself, if you don't mind."

"Of course, dear boy, of course." His new teacher agreed "Now, if you would like to take a seat, we can resume the lesson."

Nodding nervously, Gregory stared out at the class, knowing that every single eye was trained on him, and felt his stomach skink past his knees.

This day just kept getting better and better.

Most of the crowd looked a little too ordinary, all bespectacled and stooped, as though they had no lives outside of their books. Gregory let his eyes skip over them quickly, knowing that he would die of boredom after one lesson in their company. Instead, his gaze was drawn to a small group in the back of the room, and (more specifically) the face of the person in the centre.

This school must be a breeding ground for gods, Gregory found himself thinking foolishly, unable to stop staring at this new figure. Cascades of tight coppery curls spilled from the boy's head, forming tiny swirls just below his ears and glowing like flames against his alabaster skin. Eyes greener than emeralds locked onto his own, beckoning him forwards, and before Gregory knew what he was doing, he was collapsing into a seat beside this luminous redhead, still trying to keep his jaw from dropping open in wonder.

There should be a law against being beautiful and clever.

"Text book." Gregory blinked and realized that the boy was actually talking to him. Numbly, he accepted the book being held out to him and flipped blindly through the pages. He'd brought a notebook with him, but everybody else seemed to be going through some kind of exam paper. For a moment, he considered asking Spindex for one of his own, but decided against it. He's had more than enough attention for one day.

"AAAGH! JESUS!!" the shout nearly made him jump out of his skin! It sounded like someone was having a heart attack! Whipping round anxiously, Gregory let himself relax; it was only another student, getting stressed over his work.

But this didn't look like a normal level of stressed! The boy, who was painfully thin with a stack of canary yellow hair that looked like it had been plugged into a power line, was quivering all over, his eyes bulging as they stared at the question on his paper. Even was Gregory watched, the pencil he was holding snapped between his fingers, showering the desk with splinters and bits of lead.

"JESUS CHRIST!" The boy gave another squawk and Gregory frowned worriedly, before turning to the boy beside him (the one with the mesmerizing green eyes) "Um…is he alright?"

"Ah don't mind him." The handsome redhead said airily "That's Tweek, the resident spazz. He's lagging a little behind with the curriculum and with a temperament like his…well..." He glanced over at the skinny blonde (who was now ripping small chunks of hair from his scalp) and sighed. "I suppose I should try explain to h-"

"That would be an example of mass spectrometry analysis." Gregory said before he could stop himself, leaning over to the other blonde and pointing confidently at the page in front of him. "An instrumental method of calculating the formula mass of organic compounds. Simple enough really."

Oblivious to the stares that nearly everyone was now giving him, the Brit outlined the question, the answer and the theories of the method. His spazzy blonde pupil nodded the whole time, his bright blue eyes wide with understanding.

A lifetime of preparing missions and organizing troops had made Gregory a natural at explaining things to people in a way that suited their mindset, and all too soon Tweek was racing through the questions, eager to catch up with the class.

Only when Gregory returned to his own work, and saw the stares, did he realize his potentially fatal mistake.

Oh great, so now he wasn't only a dork, he was their fucking prince!

"Impressive." The redhead's voice made him flinch. He had been expecting sarcasm, so the compliment had caught him completely off guard. Turning, he found those emerald eyes trained on him once more, this time displaying more than just mild interest.

"Uh-" Gregory was lost for words, luckily his classmate didn't seem to mind. With a face like that, he was probably used to it.

"Kyle Broflovski's the name." The boy said, his voice clear and sharp, the kind that just made you sit up and listen. "And this is Token, Craig and Clyde." The rest of the boys in the circle smiled too. Each one seemed to ooze confidence, but it was obvious that Kyle was the leader. "and of course you already know Tweek."

"GAH!" the yellow-haired spazz blurted the moment his name was spoken. "T-t-t-t-thanks for helping me."

"Welcome." Gregory said, trying to sound as calm as possible. "It was nothing, honestly."

"Modest to the last." Kyle's magnetic smile knocked him off his feet again "I like that." A slender palm stretched out to meet his, and Gregory found himself being given his second handshake of the day.

"Welcome to the group, Mr. Carmichael!" The Broflovski boy announced "I have a feeling you are going to do well here."

Gregory couldn't help it; within moments a massive smile had spread across his face, one that refused to fade for the rest of the lesson.

The welcome had been strange, but it was acceptance nonetheless.

Perhaps today wasn't going to be as bad after all.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was lunch time, and Gregory was sitting with Kyle's group, laughing over some theorem or other, when the only other brit in the school came running up to their table, his face flushed and his eyes red, as though he had been crying.

"Gregory!" Pip gasped "Greg! I really have to talk to you!"

"Gregory is busy right now." Kyle said evenly, looking the blonde boy up and down warily as though to say not that he'd ever have time for someone as ridiculous as you.

Gregory, on the other hand, had seen the desperation in his roommate's eyes and his team-leader's instincts had kicked in with a lurch. True, the boy was annoying, but he was a comrade nonetheless, and it would be inconceivable not to help him now.

"Wait." He said to Kyle, but not taking his eyes off Pip. "I think this is important." He pushed his lunch tray aside and stood up, pushing Pip towards the door. "I'll be back in a minute." He ushered Pip out of the lunch hall and the door closed behind them, shutting them into the shadowy secrecy of the corridor outside.

"Well?" Gregory asked, a little louder than intended; Pip had started sniveling the moment they were out of sight. As the smaller blonde seemed unable to reply, Gregory took a guess, and knew from the way Pip cringed that he had been right.

"Its McCormick, isn't it?" Pip sniffed and nodded

"H-he and D-Delorne are making me do their work again tonight." He whimpered "B-but I have a whole protect to finish off…I'll be working hours…and if I don't get top grades in my project then I'll be moved down a class! Greg, I don't know what to do!" his words blurred into a wail but Gregory didn't have time for tantrums. Seizing the boy by the biceps, he held him at arms length and forced him to look into his face.

"Again?" he hissed, exasperated "Why do you let them do this to you, Pip? They're just ignorant school bullies, but every time they tell you to do something, you come scurrying!"

He gave Pip a shake but regretted it immediately. The boy looked as though he was about to shatter.

"McCormick's the worst, isn't he?" he demanded "I swear, if he told you to cut your own head off, you'd do it!"

"I know." Pip mumbled through his tears "I know! But McCormick is…Kenny is…"

That did it. All it took was that one sentence and Gregory felt the entire puzzle slot into place.

"Pip, you…" he trailed off, barely able to believe it "Pip, you don't….you don't like Kenny, do you?"

Pip sniffed, and that was a good a 'yes' as any.

"How long for?" Gregory felt numb now, asking questions automatically as he waited for the truth to sink in.

"Since the beginning of last year." Pipe sobbed "I thought it would go away after summer but…"

"Does Kenny know?" Pip's eyes widened in fear

"I-I jolly well hope not!"

He flinched as Gregory's grip tightened on his forearms, but there was no anger in his eyes any more. Instead his eyes were wide and determined, justice shining in their depths.

"Look, Pip, we won't do the assignment ok? If you ignore these losers then they will stop beating on us."

"Easy for you to call them losers; you don't even know what they're like…"

"Let's just say I've seen enough similar types to have a good idea." He said, eyes shining "Don't worry, we'll find a way to get back at them. I'll figure out a plan."

But unfortunately, for both Gregory and for Pip, events were already set in motion. Events that were to land everything entirely beyond their control….

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

…?

Ps: I know mass spectrometry analysis isn't too hard…but it sounds impressive so I just thought I'd use it! Poor Tweek