This is more of a filler chapter; all of the good stuff about Kai's injuries should come next chapter. This one is short (Again! I'm so sorry! I can't seem to write more than 4 pages at the moment!) and very scatty. By that I mean it focuses on about four different characters at different times, so I apologise if it's confusing!
I was very pleased that so many of you liked the chior bit! I'm an alto myself, and I really envy all sopranos! Anyway, on with the fic...
Oh yes, some of you might notice a slight problem in this chapter, a bit of a mistake. Basically, I mention Brooklyn, but I've also mentioned him last chapter. I've changed that, so please forget about him being in the last chapter!
Ray hurtled through the corridor, crashing headlong into a man who suddenly came out of a classroom. Ray looked up from his position on the floor and met the eyes of his PE teacher, Mr Merion. He scrambled to his feet and grabbed the man's arm, tugging him determinedly along.
"Ray, what on earth-"
"Kai's hurt! You've got to come and help!" Ray pleaded, turning a desperate gaze on the teacher. All the teachers knew Kai. Nodding, the teacher broke into a swift jog. Ray matched it, outstripping him easily and nearly skipping with agitation.
The teacher swallowed convulsively as they reached Kai's bloody, motionless form. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed bloodstains on the wall a few metres away. Bending down, he placed a hand on the boy's arm and shook it gently.
"Kai? Kai, can you hear me?" Nothing. "Kai?" He shook him again. The boy's eyelids flickered, showing the whites of his eyes, and saliva welled at the corner of his mouth. The teacher bit his lip.
"Kai?" Ray tried, his voice shaking. A faint, inarticulate moan bubbled from between Kai's lips. The teacher stood up, digging his mobile phone out of his pocket. His voice perfectly steady, he phoned for an ambulance, telling them to hurry.
Tyson peered round the door. Two adults were sitting in the room. Ray was curled up on the woman's lap, tears leaking slowly from between closed eyelids. Tyson gulped silently as the man noticed him.
"Who are you?" Nervously, Tyson stepped further into the room.
"Um…I'm Tyson, Ray's friend from school," he mumbled then, because he could never stop talking when he needed to, he asked, "Who are you?"
"I'm Jonathon, and this is Rachael. We're Ray's foster parents." Tyson nodded in understanding. Ray had mentioned that he and Kai were fostered before.
"Why are you here, Tyson?" Rachael asked curiously, shifting positions slightly. Ray mumbled something incoherently and resettled himself. Tyson shrugged.
"I came to see if Ray was okay, but it looks like the others were right." He turned to go.
"And what did the others say?" He turned back, meeting Jonathon's friendly brown eyes, and felt some of the nervousness slide away.
"They said he wouldn't want me here," He shuffled his feet and coloured, his gaze flicking to where Ray was still curled up on his foster mother's lap, oblivious to what was going on around him. "Guess they were right."
"It's nothing against you specifically," Rachael reassured him. "He's just had a bad shock, and he's still coming to terms with it." Tyson nodded, his eyes filled with worry for his friend.
"Okay. Say hi for me when he wakes up. Is Kai okay?" he asked suddenly. The adults exchanged looks.
"He's…stable." Rachael said carefully. Tyson's eyes grew huge with fear.
"Is he going to d-die?" His voice shook violently, the last word almost incoherent. Rachael shook her head vigorously.
"No!" she exclaimed. "Why would you think that?" Tears began to blur Tyson's vision as he fought against memories that he would rather forget.
"That's what t-they said to my dad before my m-mum d-died…" he whispered. Turning, he ran blindly out of the room, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Ray wasn't at school the day after that, but then, neither was Tyson. The day after, Tyson was back, but Ray wasn't. The day after that and the day after that; still no sign of Ray. None of the group had heard from him. Everyone was worried and edgy. Mystel had been given six detentions for staring out of the window in class, Tyson found it virtually impossible to settle in lessons and Max hadn't spoken a word since Tyson's absence, even after the navy-haired boy had returned. Raul was trying to stay calm as always, but even he was becoming snappish and irritable. It wasn't so much the fact that Ray wasn't there, it was the fact that no one really knew why he wasn't there, other than Kai had been in a fight.
Oliver and Miguel found themselves not paying full attention in class, a feat that everyone had thought impossible for the two teacher's pets, and having to deal with four anxious, occasionally tearful (although that was generally restricted to Max) boys at break and lunch. They kept their ears to the ground constantly, on the alert for any rumours about the fight that might have more than a grain of truth. Apparently, the only person in the whole of Year Eight who professed to knowing what had happened was Lee. Miguel was ignoring that particular rumour, as he knew for a fact that Lee had been in a detention at the time.
Oliver, however, thought differently. He was all too aware that bullies like Lee often had contacts going right up to the Sixth Form, and thought it very likely that one of them had told Lee about the fight. With that thought whirling round his head one break, he went in search of the boy. He found him on the field, smoking a cigarette. Dark golden eyes locked with his, and Lee threw the half-finished butt on the grass and ground it out with his foot, his eyes narrowing.
"What do you want?" he demanded. Oliver stared at him levelly.
"I want what you know on Kai's fight." he said simply. Lee snorted.
"Which one?" He laughed at his own joke.
"You know which one." Oliver's voice was perfectly steady, perfectly calm, but there was a definite hint of a threat in his tone. Lee smirked.
"You think you can threaten me, you fag?"
"I'm as much a fag as you are. Tell me about Kai's fight."
"Yeah, right, like I need-"
"If you don't tell me, you'll be telling the head of year."
"I won't tell him anything! He'll think you're lying!" Oliver smiled pleasantly, his eyes glittering hard ruby.
"Who are they more likely to believe, Leonard?" he asked softly, using Lee's full name for the first time. "Me?" He let his eyes drop to the crushed cigarette. "Or you?" Lee glared furiously at him, but the French boy held his ground with ease.
"Why do you care?"
"Ray is my friend, and all of us are being affected by this."
"Ha, you mean you fancy him, you twink-"
"Oh, grow up!" Lee snarled something under his breath, then relented with a show of acceptance.
"It was a bunch of Year Eleven's, and it was over a girl. They didn't want Kai feeling up one of theirs." Oliver shook his head in disbelief, not over what he had just been told, but at people's senseless cruelty to each other.
"How do you know?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. A nasty smirk twisted Lee's mouth and he lit up another cigarette.
"Someone in the Sixth form." he said casually, blowing smoke into Oliver's face.
"Who?"
"Hiro." Oliver's mind reeled. Tyson's older brother…oh no…
"How?" Lee laughed, clearly relishing being in control again.
"Oh, Hiro was a very naughty little boy last year. You remember that psycho Brooklyn?" Oliver nodded reluctantly.
"He tried to blow up the school." he recalled. Lee nodded in affirmation.
"And guess who put him up to it, who twisted his mind until he thought it was a good idea?" Hiro, Oliver answered silently. Suddenly, his blood boiled with fury. He couldn't stand being near this sadistic thug any longer. "It's good blackmail material for when I want to know something."
"I'm so pleased for you," Oliver hissed from between clenched teeth. Turning on his heel, he walked away as quickly as he could. Behind him, Lee stared after him for a few moments, then shrugged and took another drag of nicotine. The flicker of loneliness in his eyes went unnoticed by anyone, even himself.
Oliver looked for Miguel, finding him about to go to their next class, History.
"Miguel, I need to talk to you." he hissed, casting quick, nervous glances around the relatively empty corridor. His best friend raised a blond eyebrow in query. "I asked Lee about the fight." Miguel's expression changed instantly to seriousness and the two boys moved closer together, whispering intently.
"Ty?" Tyson looked at his best friend.
"Yeah, Max?" Max's eyes were huge with unshed tears. "What's up?"
"I wanna know why Ray isn't here, and what's up with Kai." the blond mumbled. Tyson bit his lip, his mind racing. He knew, at least, why Ray wasn't there, but not "what was up with Kai" as Max put it.
"Ray's off because he's upset." he answered Max eventually. Understand flashed instantly in the ten year-old's eyes.
"He must have seen Kai getting hurt." Max whispered, his face white. "Oh, poor, poor Ray..." Tyson hugged the younger boy tightly. "Can we go and see him?"
"We could try, I s'pose," Tyson replied cautiously, remembering his last visit. He stared at Max worriedly.
The ten year-old had been tearful and edgy for the past two weeks, long before Ray's absence. He had invited himself over Tyson's house virtually every day, and had been very reluctant to leave again. His speech had deteriorated to a few words a day, then nothing at all, and every time he moved, he winced. The movement was tiny, imperceptible to anyone who didn't know exactly what they were looking for. Even his brief, uncharacteristic flashes of anger and hyperactivity went unnoticed by nearly everyone.
Tyson noticed. He hadn't been best friends with Max for six years for nothing. He knew the signs, and dreaded them. It meant that SHE was back.
"Okay, Max, we'll go soon." he said at last. Max smiled. His blue eyes suddenly widened and he whispered,
"Teacher!" before dropping his head back to his half-done work. Tyson shrugged and ambled carelessly back to his seat. Like he cared. Merely glancing at the work, he leaned back in his chair and began tapping out an irregular rhythm with his pencil.
"Tyson, you're not concentrating. Please could you stop tapping?" the teacher asked calmly. With a disgruntled sigh, Tyson flopped back into his seat and squinted at the work with loathing.
"Don't want to, miss..." he complained.
"Tyson, look at me." Grudgingly, the eleven year-old made eye contact. "I know you don't want to do the work, but it's my job to make sure that you do it. Now, please start question five. Remember, both of you can ask for help at any time."
"Yes, miss..." the two boys droned in unison. Max very deliberately turned his back on Tyson, leaving him with no distracting alternative to keep him from working. Grumbling under his breath, he stared at the worksheet. Eventually, he began to write.
Max waved goodbye to Tyson as the older boy went into his house, and began walking home. His steps slowed until he was barely moving, his mind whirling with dread and a twisted kind of hope.
"Maybe she'll be in a good mood today," he whispered softly, longingly. "Maybe she'll love me today." The encouraging thought planted itself firmly in his mind and his steps sped up.
Nervously, he knocked on the front door. It opened, and his dad smiled down at him.
"Hi, Max. How was school?" Max smiled back in reply.
"It was okay. Ray still isn't back, though." He stepped into the house and took off his shoes as he spoke.
"Oh, really? Have those older boys been letting you and Tyson sit with them even without Ray?" Max gave him a scornful glance.
"Of course! They're cool." He leaned into his dad's reassuring body and got a hug in return. "Is Mum here?" he asked eagerly. His dad nodded, a shadow crossing his face.
"Yes, she's here. She's got a bit of a headache, though, so please be gentle, okay?" Max nodded vigorously, sending blond curls flying everywhere, and hurried into the lounge to see his mother.
She was sitting on the sofa watching television, looking as immaculate as ever. He hovered nervously in the doorway. Hearing him, she turned and smiled.
"How was your day, Maxie?" Max grinned and shrugged.
"It was okay." he muttered. "How are you? Dad said you had a headache." A frown crossed his mother's beautiful features. Max swallowed apprehensively.
"Oh he did, did he?" the woman asked coldly.
"I-I'm sure he didn't mean it, mom, he was probably just joking, you know he does that-"
"Max, please be quiet." The young boy went silent instantly. His head hurt already; he knew it would hurt much more before he went to bed.
One way or another.
"Tell you father to come in here, Max." Max hurried out, shivering with fright.
"D-Dad, Mom wants you..." he stammered. Defeat crossed his father's face and he followed his son into the lounge. He stood motionless as his wife's palm smacked into his cheek, leaving a red splodge.
Like a paint blob, Max thought dazedly.
"Max, do you love your father?" Max looked up at his beloved mother desperately, his eyes huge and glimmering with tears.
"Y-Yes, mom..."
"More than you love me?"
"No, mom!" He was thrown off balance as a searing pain flared in his cheek.
"Liar!" his mother hissed. Her blue eyes, identical to his, were alight with cold fury.
"Now, Judy, please, don't start on Max..." his dad pleaded weakly, recieving a sharp kick to the shins for his trouble.
"I'll do whatever I damn well want!" Judy yelled. She hit Max again, knocking him off his feet.
"Mom, please-" A kick.
"Mom, no, please, it hurts-" A punch.
"Mommy, don't hurt me!" He landed face-first on the floor, the carpet burning a red trail up his face. Tears leaked from his eyes.
"Mama...I love you..." he whispered.
I've been dropping hints about that for a long time; did anyone pick up on them? Opinions, please! I can't promise anything like a quick update, but I'll try my best.
Now, got to go, missing Holby City!
Review!