Disclaimer: I do not own Midnighters.

Chapter Three:

Rex got home just as midnight ended. As he crawled thought his window, he breathed a sigh of relief. His father could come storming in at any moment, getting home late could mean serious injury. He touched the bruise on his cheek and grimaced as he remembered the ferocious beating that had occurred tonight. Maybe the old man had had more drinks then usual, or maybe it was because of Rex's refusal to stop shaking during the dreaded tarantula ritual.

Rex shivered at the thought and the cold air that blasted around the room through the open window. He slowly closed the window, praying it would be silent. It, thankfully, was being kind tonight and shut without a rusty protest.

Rex flopped back onto his bed and kicked his boots off, thinking about Melissa. It really was proving hard to keep his father's abuse hidden from her. He remembered with a shudder how she had smacked him for not telling her who had given him the bruise.

Everything after that had been a mixture of repressed emotions that had come out at a really bad time.

Now Melissa was probably wondering what the matter with him was. But it was much better, he decided, then letting her know his secret. That would make her easily angered emotions come forth and god knows what would happen or what she would do.

That would be bad, having her temper come full out. He had only seen a taste of it tonight, Rex thought. But he couldn't tell her. How could he expect her to carry the secret with him? It was too much.

Rex closed hi eyes, dead tired. Every muscle in his tense body screamed at the relaxation. The combination of his beating and running hadn't been a good mix.

But eventually he relaxed totally and fell asleep, glad he was alive another day.

Another day with Melissa.

Rex opened his eyes and sat up slowly. He sat on his bed for a moment, letting dizziness overcome him for a bit, before standing up and stretching. He looked down and realized he was still fully clothed. And then all the memories of the last night came crashing down on him, Melissa slapping him, the tarantulas, his father. Rex sighed. Sleep was good, you couldn't think in sleep, and even though you dreamed, you usually don't remember them in the morning.

Rex sat back on his bed and wished he could fall asleep again, to not remember.

But he couldn't.

He still had to go to school.

Rex looked over at his clock on the bedside table. The neon numbers read 6:38.

Well, he wasn't late, but he had to be ready and at the bus stop in about ten minutes.

Rex quickly changed into a clean black outfit and stuffed his schoolbooks in his backpack.

Rex checked his clock again.

6.44.

Rex would have to skip breakfast today. He didn't really mind. He usually didn't eat much anyways. There was a lot more he could do with his time. He could read the lore or research Bixby, looking for clues he and Melissa could use to protect them at midnight.

See, there was much better things to do then eat.

Rex swung his backpack over his shoulder and peered out his window. His father's old car was gone. Rex let go of his breath he just realized he's been holding in.

Rex hated living with this fear.

He went outside into the hall and stepped out into the kitchen. His mom was sitting there having coffee and flipping though some shallow magazine.

Why didn't anyone else in this house but him actually read?

"Bye mom." He called.

She looked up from the picture of George Clooney that she'd been ogling at and gave a short wave. As Rex walked out into the sunlight he rolled his eyes.

How did he get stuck with such shallow beings?

Rex knew that everyone couldn't have the same lust for knowledge that he had, he supposed that came from being a seer. That, of course, had given him a reason to test his intellectual boundaries.

But his mother could at least read the magazine, not go gaga over some actor.

He didn't even bother to ponder why his father didn't read. He was mister macho, being a builder and all. And tough people didn't read.

At least that's what Rex gathered from all the lectures he'd gotten about being tough that had been delivered while he'd been under the tarantula's wrath.

But Rex couldn't stop reading. It might just be the only thing that kept him alive in a fight with a darkling. Rex's knowledge about animal behavior and the scraps of knowledge he picked up while in the blue time kept him alive, well, at least when up aganist a darkling. It was ironic really, how knowledge kept him alive in the face of dark creatures but punished him at home.

He thought all these things over in his mind as he walked towards the bus stop on this crisp autumn-turning-to-winter morning. It felt good to escape, for even a little bit, from the house where he was held hostage, Punished for his knowledge, Tortured for his A's. All the knowledge in the world couldn't save him from that.

As he got on the bus, he shut all thoughts of home down. Melissa was on the bus too, seeing as Bixby was so small only one bus got all the middle school kids, and Rex knew she'd be trying to figure out about his little breakdown. Instead he filled his mind with the book they were reading in school, Tale of Two Cities. He wondered what it would be like to have a guy who looked just like you but totally opposite. Maybe that would be the one thing that made his father happy, a tough Rex who never read a thing and liked working out and doing "manly jobs". Maybe that would save him. Maybe that would keep his father at bay. If only that anti-rex was out there and willing to switch lives with him.

If only.

And then he saw Melissa right in front of him, in the back row of the bus, and she was saving a seat for him.

He shut down all thoughts in his mind, hoping that the metal in her ears and the combined forces of the kids on the bus would have made it impossible to hear his thoughts.

It was impossible to not think about home though, especially when a big bruise is stabbing at your cheek, reminding you of it.

"Hey cowgirl." He murmured. He sat down next to her and put his bag on the floor.

"Hey." Melissa muttered. Her eyes were closed and she was clutching her head. Rex took that as a reassurance that his mind was safe. He realized a bit after that, trying not to think. Rex knew he couldn't let her know. He couldn't.

But even though he kept telling himself that, Rex knew that deep down, he wanted Melissa to know to share the burden.

And that made it really hard to not think about what he was trying not to think about, he knew.