AN: Whoa! Everybody's reviewing now! -is happy- Another five reviews in just a couple hours. How could I not update again? YAY for reviewing.

Warnings: Language, violence of a sort of graphic nature

Disclaimer: I don't own "Skins".

Chapter Thirteen
The World's On Fire

The classroom feels ominous even before he walks through the door and sees the people who are supposed to be his friends. Tea is steadily avoiding his gaze. Chris is stoned. Michelle, her eye bruised from Tea's blow Saturday night, is glaring daggers into the moment he crosses the threshold. Daisy is holding her hand, obviously in comfort. Cadie is looking at him like he's some kind of criminal. Abbud just looks uncomfortable. And Stan...well, Stan is stalking toward Tony with more rage than Tony had thought him capable of.

The blow is hard and vicious. Tony hears Stan's punch before he really feels it. The horrible smacking impact of skin on skin, hard on soft, fist on face. Then he feels it, a burgeoning pain blossoms in his face. Stan's fist comes back again, and Tony decides that one freebie is all his best friend gets. He brushes aside the oncoming fist with a well-practiced move, one hand wrapping around his wrist, drawing up his other to punch Stan's nose.

Blood spurts from his face, heavy and thick and so damn red, but Tony continues his assault because, damn it, he's already the fucking bad guy. He doesn't have to be the beat-up loser as well. The next punch lodges in Stan's abdomen, forces all the air out of his lungs in a wheezing gush. Then Tony releases Stan's captured wrist, digs his hands into the boy's shoulders and brings his knee up, hard and fast, into Stan's balls.

Stan's mouth pops into an "O", a silent scream, as pure agony contorts his features and tears begin to seep from his eyes. Tony lets his best friend go, and he drops to the floor like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

"Anyone else want to have a fucking go?" Tony challenges, still more than a little pissed because they've all rushed to Michelle's side and no one's even asked why he did it. They just fucking assumed. So fuck 'em. Fuck 'em all. There's a delicate tap on his shoulder, followed by a decidedly less delicate slap when he turns around. "I'm not going to fight a girl, Chelle."

"But I will." Tea interrupts with her fist. Michelle hits the floor. Again. Michelle starts to get up, hand on her face and curses spewing from her lips.

"Son of a mother fucking whore..."

"Don't get up, Michelle. I've already blackened both your eyes at this point; you really want me to break the nose next?" Tea says, way too calm to have just decked one of her best friends. Michelle, wisely, shuts her damn mouth and crawls over to Stan, who is still very much in pain.

Tea grabs Tony's face in her hands and turns his head to the side. Still holding his chin with one hand, she brings the other to the bruise that's already swelling and darkening under his eye. "You'll be fine, you pussy." She smirks before lightly slapping the wound. He winces at the stinging contact and smothers the urge to push her against the wall and fuck her senseless in front of the whole damn class. He figures it wouldn't help anything and wouldn't exactly qualify as him leaving it up to her.

She presses her lips to the exact same place she'd smacked and it doesn't hurt anymore. In fact it kind of tingles pleasantly. It's clearly a sign of the impending apocalypse, because such a simple touch should not affect him so drastically. She takes her hands from him, and his twitch to put them back, to make her touch him again.

She walks past him and heads towards the door.

"Ditching, really?" He asks, remembering his words abruptly. She's going to leave them all in this mess.

"Fuck it, Tone. Just fuck it." And she's gone. Part of him, a part bigger than he'd like, wants to follow her. But he's giving her space or time or some shit like that, so he can't.

Michelle is still silently willing his head to explode when the teacher walks in and the tardy bell rings.

"What happened to him?" He asks, confused by the sight of one of students on the floor

No one answers. No one but the gang is really sure, and their dying loyalty to Tony means that they won't rat him out...yet. Or maybe it's in the defense of Stan, who technically started the fight. Stan has enough problems at school without getting suspended for fighting, whereas Tony is pretty much the golden boy, every teacher's favorite.

"He walked into a table, sir." Tony lies, pulling out his thousand kilo-watt smile. "You know...there...and his face hit a desk on the way down. It was really rather ugly."

And because Tony is a golden angel who does his class work and his homework and aces every test, he could have said angry rabbits had jumped through the window to beat up Stan, and the dumbass would have believed him wholeheartedly. So their teacher just grimaces and nods. "Someone help him to the nurse...That nose looks nasty."

"I'll take him." Michelle offers, rising to her feet.

"And what happened to you?" Because Michelle has one black eye at this point, and the other is red and swelling unpleasantly.

"Tripped on a skateboard while visiting a friend. Face-first. I don't wanna talk about it."

"Right then, Right then. Take him." He gestures, a little unconvinced because she's not Tony, so people aren't obligated to buy into her bullshit.

She helps Stan to his feet, and glares daggers when Tony moves to help them both. Hell, he may have been the one to do the damage, but that's still his best friend, and she doesn't have to be a bitch about this. But in the interest of peace, he puts his hands up in surrender and lets them limp past slowly before taking his seat.

His face is starting to throb unpleasantly, and Tea walked away without him. That little tidbit actually hurts more than his face, and he thinks that's all kinds of fucked up.

It's going to be a fucking long day...