Chapter One-Hundred and Seven

John sat quietly through Spanish, gym, and history class, his hands itching for the feeling of a welder. Finally, the bell rang, and he bolted for the shop, pushing the door open and grabbing an Arc welder. He dropped his bandana on the housing, picking up a helmet and some leathers.

"Hey!" Barked a kid with brown hair and a patchy beard. "That's my welder." He growled shoving John's back into a huge table filled with scrap. "Besides, Meth-heads like you shouldn't be allowed to play with electricity."

John pushed himself off of the table, ignoring the pain from his hand where he'd cut it on some of the sharper pieces. He pointed to his bandana, showing that it was his claim. "Mine today." He stated, insisting that it was his.

The kid scoffed, taking the bandana and tossing it into the forge. "It's mine all the time, dickhead."

John watched as the bandana that had served him for so many years was burned in the heat of the forge, the red threads burning as if they'd never been. He could smell a hint of burning blood mixing with the smell of the fabric, the image of the cigar pressed to his arm surfacing in his mind. "Fuck you!" He screamed, his voice cracking as he clenched his fists in an attempt to stay out of trouble.

The kid barked a laugh, pushing John again. "Go find some drugs to shoot up with."

John huffed a breath, turning on his heal to find something else to fill his time with. He picked up a length of steel and a hammer, choosing to spend his hour in class hammering his anger out and make something rather than destroy. He shoved the steel into the forge, pulling a pair of safety glasses from his pocket as he watched the billet heat to a glowing red. He waited until it was white hot before he pulled it from the fire, laying it on the anvil to hammer into shape.

It wasn't long before the thick leather he had on became too hot, forcing him to toss it and risk the burns on his arms from flying spatter. He heaved a breath as he reheated the slowly shaping billet, wiping his forehead on his forearm as sweat dripped into his eyes. He watched the metal heat, the fuzzy memory as Sid's knife turned red from his lighter was pressed into the gash in his side. The memory of the scent of his burning flesh made his cough, followed by a choked gagging noise as the feeling of Dominic's fingers being forced down his throat seemed to become real with the memory.

Cooper looked up from his soldering project, seeing Bender's odd behavior at the forges. He stood, walking over to the new kid as he seemed to not be aware of where he was. "Bender?"

John jumped, his hand pressing to his side as he came out of the memory.

Cooper noticed the dark circles under John's eyes, wondering if the older boy had gotten any sleep the night before. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." He croaked, shaking the memory from his head. "Bad memory."

Cooper nodded, noticing the pale skin of John's scars showing even more prominently through the red skin of his overheated body. "You got your voice back."

John smiled, touching his throat as it started to ache. "Little…" He stopped as his vocal cords gave a twinge, knowing better than to push it any farther.

Cooper motioned to the forge where John's project was heating. "It's looking good." He tilted his head as John pulled it from the forge. "It's a knife of some sort, right?"

John nodded, hammering the tang of the blade into shape. He jumped as the bell rang, looking at his watch to see how much time he had before he was supposed to eat. He wasn't hungry today, in fact, the last thing he wanted was food. He wanted something to get high on, but he knew that was out of the question. With how pissed Claire had been the last time he'd relapsed, he didn't want to risk her temper again. He started for the locker rooms, letting Cooper tail him along with Tyler.

"Why are you guys always so close to him?" Cooper asked, as John turned on the shower and started tossing his clothes into the gym locker he'd been given.

Tyler glanced around the corner to make sure John was okay and didn't slip on the slick tile flooring. "I'll bet you saw the news reports… but what people didn't see was what came before that, I didn't see much of it either because I was still getting loaded at least four days a week, but his girlfriend told us what happened." He met Coopers eyes, popping his knuckles. "The withdrawals almost took him. And the only thing that kept him alive was Claire telling him she loved him."

Cooper glanced at John's bare feet under the shower curtain, the reality of how close he'd come to death because of his parents. "Wow…"