Disclaimer: House of Anubis belongs to Hans Bourlon and to Gert Verhulst.

Summary: When that Jerome kid had come offering his services, Rufus was very far from imagining the journey that was about to start.

Author's note: Please note that my first language is not English, it's French. If you find any mistakes or weird sentence, let me know, so I can better myself. While I know I am almost fluent and while I do read after myself and use Grammarly to help, sometimes, a mistake can pass by.

Second note: I've had this idea in my head for almost three years but I never dared to start because I thought I needed to stay as close to the first season as I could. But hey, it's fanfic, so as long as the timeline is respected enough, I guess no one will be mad at me for displacing a comma. I hope you'll like the idea I had. Note that I have only seen the first two seasons but it was a long time ago.

Twists of Fate
Chapter 4

"Are you all right, dude?" Alfie asked him, worried "You look... sick?"

Startled, Jerome quickly regained his composure and offered his best friend and partner in pranks a dashing smile.

"Yeah, I am."

"Jerome."

The teenager sighed.

"Just family worries." He confessed

That wasn't a lie, not really, after all, his mind was preoccupied with family matters. However, it wasn't the family Alfie assumed it was. His friend remained quiet, his gaze softened and he quickly but warmly patted his shoulder. While Jerome had never explained his entire family drama to Alfie, how he was left by his parents in this boarding school at age five, and according to Jerome, left there to rot, his best friend knew enough to understand that family was a touchy subject for him. Hence why he never spoke of it, why Alfie never raised the question and whenever Jerome brought it up, it meant it was hurtful and important. Alfie would be there to listen if needed, but he wouldn't try and dig further.

"Adoptive parents." Jerome mentally corrected himself

When he had read the papers Rufus gave him, he had felt the world collapsing under his feet. Then, he felt completely lost.

Who was he? He couldn't call himself a Zeldman, or a Zeno, whatever real identity Rufus had. It wasn't as if the man had stated a desire to claim him as his child.

Who was he? His current name was Jerome Clarke. But that identity was based on a lie. While it was true that family didn't necessarily mean blood links, with what the people he had called parents for almost sixteen years had done to him, abandoning him into this boarding school while he was only five, his father suddenly disappearing from his life and his mother only taking him back home for summer, he couldn't really say he was a true Clarke. Was his first name his real name too? Was his name truly Jerome? Why would his parents have been through the pains and hardships of adopting him, or taking him in, if it was to leave him in a school for most of the year, starting so early in life?

"Wait!" He thought "Are these papers even real?"

There was always a chance they could be forged. It seemed unlikely though. Rufus didn't know of his feud against the Scooby Gang. He seemed to have a deadline for the cup he was looking for. Why would he waste time and money to have such a scheme against him? What did he have to gain in doing that? His loyalty? He already had it, at least for now. The only thing he could do was visit the labs the papers came from. And hope this was all just a dream.

XXXXX

"May I help you?" The welcoming agent greeted

"I'd like to have those papers double-checked." Jerome asked

"Only a few people are allowed this request."

"I am the teenager listed as Mister Zeno's biological son."

He had to look either pitiful and broken or incredibly sweet because the young woman's gaze softened and asked for his ID card. He handed over the results. She quickly examined them.

"Are they forged?" He said

"You're direct. No, those are official papers."

She searched on her computer and after a few moments, she turned the screen to him. Saved on her library was the file she had edited and printed.

"Would you like to meet the doctor who performed the tests?" She offered "Sir. Are you okay?"

It was only when she called him "sir" that he came back to Earth. He was staring at the screen and had felt so disconnected. This was all true. His entire life had been a lie. Rufus was his birth father and he had unknowingly came to him, just to piss Sibuna off. All the questions he had had earlier came rushing back in his head. Who was he? Truly? Who was he? Some things remained, and he clung to those certainties. He was the king of pranks. That was certain. He had been left in boarding school to rot, which he did. His qualities, his drawbacks, those were crystal clear. But they weren't enough to build a character. What was his true name? What would his last name be? If Rufus was his father, where was his mother? Who was she? Was she even still alive? Did he have blood siblings somewhere?

"I'll be fine." He managed to say in a whisper

"Are you sure?" The woman insisted "Would you like some water? I can also call a cab for you. It's okay to feel lost."

Jerome liked that she tried, though it didn't ease him much.

"If you could be kind enough to ask for a cab to drive me back to Anubis House, please?"

Jerome had only one last thing to do now, something he loathed and dreaded:

It was time to visit "Mommy dearest."

XXXXX

Facing the door of the house he only lived in for summer, Jerome felt his resolve crumbling. He couldn't face her with the truth. He was afraid of her words, of getting hurt again, because while she had never raised her hand on him, she had neglected him on the affection level. He had never missed anything: food, clothes, education. Just the essential: love. Convincing Victor to let him go on a Saturday morning had been strangely easy. Once home, he had knocked on his door.

"Enter." The caretaker had barked

"Good afternoon, Victor."

"Hello, Jerome. What do you want?"

"I'd like your permission to go outside of town for Saturday."

This was unusual of him and he had spotted Victor's eyebrow-raising in curiosity.

"I need to know where you wish to go. Security measures."

"I'd like to visit my mother."

Jerome had almost spat the word mother and he had hoped Victor hadn't noticed it. Strangely, the stern man had softened.

"Did anything happen, Jerome? I could help you with it."

"I know you would, Victor. But you can't. It's something I need to talk to her about and it can't be done on the phone, it's... delicate, to say the least."

The man had sighed.

"Very well then. You have my permission."

"Thank you, Victor."

"But! You have to come to my office before you leave, you call Trudy once you're there, once you leave the place and you come straight home, before curfew. Am I clear?"

"I wouldn't miss the sound of your pin falling on the floor for anything." Jerome tried to joke

"I can always take that permission back."

Jerome had kept a low profile until that day and obeyed. He knocked on the door. And the look on Joan's face was priceless.

"What are you doing here?" She asked

"Hello, Mom. Always a pleasure seeing you. May I enter?" He sassily replied

As he walked inside, he asked if Poppy was home. He learnt she was out with friends. For once, Jerome was glad. Despite their arguments, he loved his little sister to death and he didn't want her to have to witness what could be the end of the dysfunctional but still family they had.

"Adoptive sister." He corrected himself

Though adopted or not, Poppy would always be his little sister. One to annoy out of fun, but deep down one to cherish and protect.

"Let's get down to business. What do you want, Jerome?"

Without a word, Jerome opened his schoolbag and handed over the test results. Joan's green eyes quickly scanned them before she had a small, wicked smile.

"So. Your father finally found you. It was high time after almost sixteen years. Maybe now you can have your actual last name."

While he felt his world crashing down once again, he did his best to hide it, he would not give her that satisfaction.

"So, it's true then." He emotionlessly stated "I am not your biological son."

"My husband and I adopted you, yes." She commented "Since your father was nowhere to be found and your mother had abandoned you after giving birth to you."

Jerome felt a blow in his heart, yet another wound he hid. And judging from Joan's face, the nightmare was far from over.

To Be Continued