They spent the rest of the time before the first classes in the library. The boy Jonathan got to know as Thomas was actually pretty smart, reading ahead of the reading assignments so that he could get a head start. Jonathan, on the other hand, was struggling to get through Newgate Academy's paperwork: the map was a mess, the class plan one that he had never seen before, and the timetables made his head spin. And of course, he could not ask anyone for help.

Thomas closed his book and leaned back in his chair, the fourteen-year-old trying to look somewhat more mature despite his complete lack of such. "So Buster, how come you landed in this dead-end school? Picked too many fights, maybe? Hmm? Or was it something... " He stopped teetering in his chair, the legs slamming down on the wooden floor and prompting a shush from the librarian under the mezzanine they were seated at. "...Else?"

Jonathan swallowed his spit with difficulty, the intimacy of the statement, despite being completely innocent in nature, made him very nervous, all at once. There was no danger, no wrong answer if you didn't answer, that is. Instead of doing anything of the kind, he frowned.

The blond leaned back in his chair again with a world-weary sigh, taking a second to look the brunet up and down. Maybe he had noticed something, had his makeup smudged? Maybe it was something else. Maybe this boy could look into one's heart and see what really was there.

"You see, Buster…"

Again that infuriating nickname. Hadn't he seen his real name on his paperwork?

"... There are things in this world I just hate, and things that are just there to be dominated, you get me?"

He didn't, but he nodded with earnest nonetheless.

"There are things that are just too puny, like ants, but with maybe an inkling of intelligence. Not much, mind you, but just enough to listen to orders and make a satisfying noise if you punch them hard enough. You get my drift?"

He didn't, but he didn't dare shake his head.

"The fucking homos! They're everywhere, Thomas said in a conspiratorial tone, something in his eyes indicating fear buried deep beneath the hatred. "They can look like any random dude, and then they come out to you, and you realize that during all that time they were spying on you and thinking that way about you like that.

The blond shuddered. Jonathan remained unmoved by the boy's words. Yet again, this guy may have his reasons, some trauma that had made him this way; someone who had actually hurt him, or somebody forcing him into viciously homophobic beliefs. Whatever had happened, this boy had been broken somehow, and it was nearly pitiful how he tried to work his way through them by hurting the others around him.

Never matter that, the bell was now ringing and the boys only had a few minutes to pack up and hurry to the front of the school before their names were called out, and they rejoined their classes. There, in the hustle and bustle of the beginning of school year, Thomas elbowed Jonathan in the ribs and pointed to another kid wearing the compulsory blue and grey uniform. He was smaller than average, not having hit the growth spurt most kids his age would have, and for a second Jonathan thought that he was a kid from the year below them, were it not for the yellow tie that indicated their year group. What ultimately gave him away was his flaming red hair, some stray ones shining with a golden hue in the morning light. What Jonathan could only assume were his foster parents were doting over him, their much younger daughter holding on tight to her mother's pant leg, whilst the latter combed her hands through his hair and straightened out the uncrooked tie. The foster father was smoking an old fashioned pipe, his dark eyes shining with pride as he gave a last few words of advice to his charge before he started his new year.

The boy had nothing special, although he did have a certain air of innocence around him, but otherwise, Jonathan definitely could not see why Thomas had pointed him out to him. Then, it clicked. Small, red hair. He was the gay kid. The one the blond despised so much. Jonathan didn't move, just looked upon the scene as the redhead laughed at something his dad said, tried to escape, in vain, his mother's kiss, and gently hugged his sister before he turned his back on them and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Why hello there, my little monkey. Thinking of becoming a Homo Sapiens at last?" Thomas sneered, laughing at his own joke. Jonathan stood to the side, awkward. Of course he wanted to help the kid, but he couldn't do so with his new "boss" just standing there next to him, right?

A flashback to the summer's events. The rope. The barbed wire. The cries, the screams, the relief.

Before he knew it, he was standing in between them. He had his back turned on Thomas, so he couldn't make out his expression but there was no doubt that it was furious. All Jonathan's energy, all his bitterness and regret welled up in him, and suddenly, without warning, he released it in a resounding slap that somehow echoed in the crowded rec space.

The redhead stumbled back, stunned. One step, two, before his feet ceased holding him up and he fell into his mother's arms. His scarlet red hair now matched the streak of blood that poured from his nose, and accompanied by the purplish bruise which had started to form on his left cheek. The family glared at Jonathan, and the father looked like he was about to say something, but his daughter, terrified and now holding onto his pant leg, stopped him from going any further in his movement.

"I hope you are ashamed of yourself, young man," the lady huffed, helping her son up and dabbing at his nose with the same tissue that she had used earlier on to wipe a smudge on the redhead's nose. "Honey, you don't have to go in today if you don't want to, this is getting too much."

The redhead must have whispered something to his mother, as she slowly let go of him and gave him the tissue he had used to wipe his nose. He sent a glare in Thomas and Jonathan's way, before he sped off to join his first-class group.

"See what I mean?" said the blond, half hissing his words out as he did. "He's a menace. Thank you for sticking up for me there buddy, I don't know what I would have done otherwise. I did think for a moment that you had betrayed me on the first call, but I'm glad to see that you're not that kind of dude, am I right?"

He would say nothing. He couldn't say anything of the ache in his heart as such a murderous stare had been directed towards him and his actions, he couldn't say anything of how much he had wished his hit had been for the blond to receive and not the innocent freckled kid. But the circumstances being what they were, there could have been no other outcome. If he had shown a molecule of sympathy towards the redhead kid, he would have been treated like he had been treated before, and all his efforts would have been for nothing. From the corner of his eye, he saw someone who was familiar to him, and his heart sank.

Slowly, he turned away from Thomas and walked towards the person staring at him with an expression that was a mix of anger, disbelief and pain. As soon as he got close enough to his brother, Jonathan could feel the boy's aura of betrayal. Before he knew it, he was grabbed by the shoulder and pulled outside of the milling company that was the general chaos of parents and school kids about to attend their first year at Newgate.

"Jonathan," he started, but then he sighed and let go of him. "I don't know why you did that and I'm not sure how this is going to end, but please don't get caught up in this. I don't want you to become a bully just because you were bullied too."

The boy looked around quickly, taking in the numerous people surrounding them and making sure that none were listening before replying in a whisper: "I d-d-don't… I'm not."

He tried to be as confident as he could be in his response, even managing to repress his speech impediment for a second, and this seemed all that was needed to satisfy his brother. It could have been way worse; he could have been questioned for hours on his choices, on the whys and hows of his decision, but in the end… With a sickening feeling, Jonathan realized his brother trusted him.

And of course, he was going to have to break that trust. He didn't cry, but he certainly felt like doing so.

"Buster! Hey Buster, where are you?"

"Th-that's my c-c-call," he said forlornly, but Roman was quick to scoop up his face in his hands and to push his forehead right up to Jonathan's, making his eyes look weird and pressing Roman's round glasses painfully against his own face.

"Awkward brother promise that you're not going to do anything stupid?"

"P-promise," Jonathan replied, but unbeknownst to the now relieved Roman, who let him go moments later, one of his hands was secretly hidden behind his back, and the fingers of that hand were crossed as tightly as can be.

"Right class, time for presentations," Mr. Stout was quick to say as soon as everyone was sat down. "Starting from the back of the class, seeing as everyone there is trying their darndest to get away from me."

The class groaned, but the shrill clang of the metal ruler on the teacher's desk was enough to silence everybody. Everybody but Thomas, that is, who seemed to be a special exception somehow.

"Hey Buster, you're sure your brother ain't a homo?" Thomas whispered loudly. Jonathan sighed and scribbled on a piece of paper: He's straighter than a line of coke

"Ooooh right. He just seemed to be hella close to you and all."

Shut the fuck up. That's just plain disgusting

"You'd be surprised."

The teacher seemed to have had quite a bit enough of this, because he immediately skipped over the awaiting students with a "Thomas, care to introduce yourself?"

Unlike the other students, the blond seemed more than happy to stand up and belt out his full name: "Thomas Jasper Barry, I'm the son of the school principal and owner of this entire place. Do not cross me, or you'll sorely regret it."

The teacher visibly sighed and pinched his nose. "You can sit down now, Thomas."

The roll call continued as such, all the time growing closer and closer to Jonathan. Finally, it was his turn, and with a screech of his chair that he could not help, despite his best efforts, he got up and walked to the front of the class. The chalkboard was very clean at this beginning of the year, and it nearly seemed a shame to dirty it, but what had to be done had to be done, after all.

I'm Jonathan Castrillo. I'm mute. I am not deaf.

As was to be expected, whispers erupted throughout the class. This, he was used to, but at least they weren't as bad as they were when he used to introduce himself orally. All in all, the whispers seemed more curious than mocking. Even the teacher looked like his attention had been piqued, and was looking through his paperwork to find specifications of Jonathan's condition. Finding nothing, and probably relieved that at least one less student was likely to disrupt his lesson, he waved Jonathan on and back to his seat.

During the rest of the roll call, Thomas would sometimes point out a person or two as "targets": people who seemed unsure, have a low self-esteem or physically weak, one kid who had a lisp and another who was way, way, way too tall for his age.

Then they got to the front row.

The first few students to introduce themselves seemed pretty plain, but the third… The third was the redhead. His bruise was still fully visible on his cheek, having gone from a purple to a greenish hue. Guilt came back to Jonathan faster than a wave in a stormy sea would, making him nearly double over from the sickening feeling in his stomach. The boy got up, and to his surprise also walked to the chalkboard. Then he started to write.

Hi, I'm Sherwin Payne and I've got selective mutism from past trauma. I was adopted three years ago by my foster family of two years. They're black, I'm white. We do not look like each other but we're a family and we're happy. I'm gay and founder of the school GSA, which I am the only member of at this time, but I'm hoping to see you there soon! Have a wonderful school year!

Jonathan felt like all this was directed to him, and intended to make him feel as guilty as possible for this morning's actions. This kid had really gone over the top in order to put the teachers on his side, but there was no way anyone would want to befriend someone so brutally honest. The brunet wasn't even sure if it was naiveness or sarcasm at this point in time. Whatever the intended effect, if he hadn't felt so guilty he would have probably found it… well, endearing. Under other circumstances, he would have joined the so-called GSA and would have helped out the young man in his endeavour.

Yet, he was now stuck with Thomas, who was openly hollering at the redhead, mocking his "speech" in a high-pitched voice, ridiculing every action, every word the boy had dared to write down. On the other hand, Jonathan remained motionless and didn't even dare to take his eyes away from the chalkboard. However, his suffering was not yet finished.

"Thank you, Sherwin, now how about the next student?"

That was when the redhead turned around and looked Jonathan directly in the eye in the most murderous way possible, worse even than when he had slapped him, and Jonathan felt his heart break in his chest.