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
Chapter5

A phone call had interrupted their talk. Joan had answered and how quickly she could put on a mask reminded Jerome of his own ability. Even if he wasn't of her blood, he could still be her son, in that regard.

"I'm so sorry Natalie, I cannot talk much right now." She said with a faked happiness. "Why, my precious Jerome surprised me with a visit! Yes, isn't he sweet? He came all the way from London, just to make me smile on a Saturday morning! Oh, Jerome, Honey, don't stand there, take some juice, make yourself comfortable!"

Taking the opportunity, Jerome obeyed. The news she had thrown in his face were still waltzing in his head and he didn't want to give her the joy of seeing him affected by asking if he could sit. He wasn't a Clarke. Maybe he wasn't even a Jerome, to begin with. And his birth mother hadn't wanted him in the first place, but instead of aborting him, she had abandoned him. Joan hung up and sat, facing him.

"You went through the troubles of adopting a child." He started "Yet when I was five, you dumped me in boarding school."

"As if it was a terrible fate."

"It's not. The school and the house are great. But even the staff found it harsh, leaving a five years old there, only taking him back for summer. Adopting is a hassle. So why did you adopt me if it was only to dump me there afterwards?"

"Because Poppy was there."

The fact that she sounded so calm, that it was so obvious for her, sickened him.

"You see, sixteen years ago, your adoptive father and I wanted to have a child but we couldn't conceive, for some reason. So, we went to the orphanage and they told us a new baby had arrived a few months earlier, abandoned at birth by his mother and with an unknown father. John loved you at first sight. And believe it or not, I did too."

Jerome scoffed.

"I guess that's why you chose a blond haired baby boy with blue eyes?"

"That was a coincidence."

The teenager took a sip of his orange juice.

"You gave us great satisfaction as our son. But then, five years after, I finally became pregnant with Poppy."

"So, what changed?"
"Don't act dumb. I finally had a true child of my own, not one I had found in a thrift store. But the papers had been signed, we couldn't possibly drive you back there and people around had grown fond of you. Abandoning you again would have destroyed this family's reputation. So I did the only logical thing: I left you in a school where you'd be taken care of while I could focus on my real child."

Jerome wanted to puke. There was a bitterness in the back of his throat and he felt sick. He had always known that his "mother" had her reasons, but he had always hoped that, deep down, she loved him, as a mother should. Or at least, the best a mother could, depending on her character. He had just been a doll, a useless one as soon as Poppy was born.

"Was I already given a name when you took me in?" He managed to ask

"You talk of yourself as if you were a stray dog."

"You treat me like one. Expensively, I grant you that."

Joan sighed.

"Yes. You already had a name when we adopted you. We didn't change it. Your name is the one your birth mother gave you before she left you there. And before you ask, we know nothing of her, just that you were healthy. So, was that all? Does your birth father want to take you in, now that the hassle of raising a child is over and that you're a man?"

"My father will have to thank Trudy for that. She raised me. You paid her to do so. He'll thank you for your money."

Joan had a small laugh.

"Whatever you say, son."

Jerome bid her farewell and he left. Once outside, he isolated himself in a dark alley, where he allowed himself to cry silently. All of this was so much worse than what he had imagined! He had been a toy for his adoptive mother, cast aside when she had her blood running in a child she gave birth to, his birth mother had abandoned him as soon as he was born yet she felt the need to name him, and his real father was scheming against the Scooby Gang, and the Scooby Gang meant Patricia, but most importantly Alfie. He felt lost. Lost, scared and alone, like a newborn.

He dried his eyes.

It was time to go back to the house.

XXXXX

Laying on his bed, Jerome was trying to digest everything he had learnt. All the hardships thrown at his face. Once home, Trudy had rushed to him to welcome him back, just to worry immediately afterwards. Jerome had seen his reflection in a mirror and it wasn't a pretty sight. He looked down, sad and broken. Well, even more, broken than he usually was.

"I'm simply tired. The ride was long and it was hot in the car." He had offered

"I have saved you some cookies from this afternoon, chocolate chips! I'll brew you a nice and warm cup of tea."

He had managed to smile. Trudy definitely was the mother he had needed when he was growing up.

"Welcome back, Jerome." Victor had greeted from upstairs

"Good evening, Victor."

"Did you learn what you needed to know?" He had carefully asked in a low voice, not wanting anyone to hear, as he approached the teenager

"Yes, and far beyond."

"Are you okay?"

"Just tired."

Alfie's footsteps in the corridor broke his thoughts as he got up.

"Alfie?" He asked

"Yeah, mate?" His best friend replied "Gods, Jerome, dude, you look awful! What happened?"

Jerome tried to offer him a smile.

"Believe it or not, I need a shoulder to cry on."

His voice had shaken and Alfie's worries grew. Jerome couldn't blame him, it was very unusual of him to show how battered he could be inside.

"Of course. Always."

But as he was about to enter their room, Patricia's voice called him out, urging him to join her, Nina and Fabian needed them for a "puzzle". To Alfie's credit, he replied he'd join them later, Jerome needed a hand for something important.

"Jerome's a big boy perfectly able to care for himself!" The young woman's voice shouted back "I swear, if you don't come down, I will make you!"

Alfie's apologetic face was yet another blow Jerome had to endure.

"I'll make this quick, I swear! I promise you, I'll listen to you tonight after curfew!"

Jerome looked as Alfie left, running, only to be scolded by Victor. Once perfectly alone, the teenager took his pillow and angrily punched in it a few times.

He really had nothing left, didn't he?

His adoptive father had vanished ever since he came to this boarding school.

His adoptive mother flat out admitted he had been a doll she got bored of.

His birth mother had gotten rid of him.

His birth father was after something sought by his classmates.

Mara had ditched him as soon as Mick came back.

And now, even Alfie seemed to prefer the Scooby Gang's company.

He felt his eyes burning with unshed tears. He tried to hold them in before realizing no one really cared about him, or had even really cared from the start. Well, there was always Trudy, but Trudy didn't make him special. She was motherly with all the students that she was entrusted with. Why did he even bother to remain strong, when he had been left all alone in every sense of the term?

He let them free.

XXXXX

Jerome had pretended to be asleep at 10.00 pm, so Alfie wouldn't try to have him talk to him. He didn't feel like it anymore, he didn't feel like doing or enjoying anythçing anymore. His life had been built on a lie and right now, as it had crumbled, he was trying not to drown in the mess it created. He didn't even try to spy on Alfie when he snuck out one hour later. He knew it was a mistake because the more data he could get, the happiest Rufus would be. The happiest his father would be. If he could call him that.

"I help him, I betray my friends. I help my friends, he has my head on a spike. He's not a man to be crossed. Yet... He showed me more kindness this past week than the people who call themselves my friends."

If he had to be completely honest, he didn't really include Mara in it. Mara was clumsy, but to her credit, she still tried to reach out. It was just that she was still so helplessly in love with her athlete, the second he returned, she forgot about the bond they had newly forged together. And to his own admission, his jealous streak didn't help either. And he couldn't say he was friends with Mick. But Alfie, Patricia, they knew what they were doing and yet, they weren't feeling bad about it. Yes, Jerome had seen Alfie's hesitation and he was certainly bound by some kind of promise, and Alfie Lewis was the type of man to remain true to his words. It still hurt though. A promise was important. Wasn't their friendship even more important than this hypothetical promise of his? Jerome wondered what his life would have been like if he had been raised by Rufus. Yes, the guy was clearly dangerous and nuts, however, he didn't owe him anything. He still gave him the test results. He gave him the chance to double-check them, to uncover the truth. Rufus wouldn't have been the greatest dad, for sure. He could have shown what was qualified as tough love. They would have moved around a lot. Yet, with this simple honest gesture he made, Jerome was certain Rufus would have cared, to an extent. Or so he liked to believe, knowing fine well this fantasy was fed by his bleeding soul. And deep down, he knew it was just the beginning of the heartache.

Soon, he'd have to make a choice.

And either way, he was going to get screwed.

To Be Continued