"Hey, shithead! Hurry up and get your worthless ass over here!"
A voice exploded across the classroom like a gunshot. It was loud, aggressive, dripping with irritation and barely-contained violence. The kind of voice that made everyone else go quiet, that made the air itself feel heavy.
Elijah, who got yelled at, froze up like he always did like his body had learned this response so deeply it happened before his brain could even process the words. His shoulders twitched involuntarily, jerking upward in a defensive hunch. His eyes went wide for a split second, pupils dilating with that familiar spike of adrenaline-laced fear.
"O… okay…" he whispered, the word barely audible even in the now-silent room. His voice cracked on the second syllable.
He got up slowly from his desk, almost like he hoped the floor would mercifully swallow him whole before he reached them. Each step felt like walking toward an execution. He dragged his feet across the floor, the sound of his worn sneakers scraping unnaturally loud in his ears, toward the cluster of big kids who had summoned him like they owned him.
The other boys around the ringleader snickered immediately, a chorus of cruel amusement. They fed off each other's cruelty like it gave them strength.
"Hey, loser," one of the bigger kids said, stepping forward with his arms crossed. His voice was sharp, mocking, each word designed to hurt. "Didn't I specifically tell you to buy me a soda today? Or are you deaf on top of being pathetic?"
Elijah flinched so hard it looked like he'd been physically slapped, his whole body recoiling from the words alone.
"Yeah, dumbass," another kid added, laughing louder than he needed to, the sound harsh and grating. "Are you too weak and too fucking dumb to remember to pick it up? It was one simple job!" The rest of them cracked up with him, their laughter washing over Elijah like acid.
"Hey, hey, leave little Elijah alone," someone else called out from the back, their voice dripping with sarcasm so thick it was almost visible. "He might actually cry if you don't stop. Look at him he's already shaking."
The whole class erupted into laughter, the sound surrounding him from all directions. Even kids who weren't part of the main group joined in, not wanting to be the next target.
Elijah felt the familiar heat rise in his face, spreading from his neck to his ears until he was sure he must be glowing red. His throat tightened painfully, like someone had wrapped invisible hands around it and was slowly squeezing. He wanted to curl up on the floor right there, to disappear into the tiles, to run out the door and never come back anything except continue standing there, exposed and humiliated.
"I'm… I'm sorry…" he stuttered, his voice barely more than a breath. His hands fidgeted nervously, fingers twisting around each other like they didn't know what else to do. "It won't happen again… I promise, I swear it won't—"
"You're goddamn right it better not happen again. You know why?"
The biggest kid Michael, always Michael stepped forward and shoved him hard in the chest with both hands.
"Because next time, I'll make sure you regret it. Now beat it before I change my mind about letting you off easy."
Elijah hit the floor hard, the impact jarring his bones and knocking the air from his lungs. He tried desperately to push himself up, his palms pressing against the cold floor, but he was so weak from skipping meals because of anxiety again and so drained from constant stress that he barely had the strength. His arms shook violently with the effort, trembling like branches in a storm. He swallowed hard, feeling a new wave of embarrassment crash over him at the fact that he couldn't even stand up properly, that everyone was watching him struggle.
He wanted to crawl away like the insect they thought he was and cry somewhere dark and private, but suddenly he felt a presence shift in front of him. Someone was standing there, blocking the harsh fluorescent lights. A new presence a warm one that felt completely different from everything else in this room.
He looked up slowly, squinting against the backlight.
"Suzi…" he whispered without meaning to, her name escaping his lips like a prayer.
She smiled softly, her expression gentle and concerned in a way that made his chest ache. She held her hand out for him, palm up, offering without demanding.
He hesitated for a long moment, staring at her hand like it might vanish if he reached for it. Then, slowly, he reached up and took it. Her hand felt warm against his skin, gentle but strong. His felt small and bony and cold by comparison, like touching her was somehow stealing her warmth. Suzi helped him up like he weighed nothing at all, pulling him to his feet with surprising ease.
"Steady now… can you walk?" she asked quietly, talking slow and deliberate on purpose, giving him time to process. She always talked to him like this after the bullies finished with him, like she understood his brain needed extra seconds to catch up when he was overwhelmed.
"Y… yeah," he managed, his voice hoarse. He pulled his hand away fast, maybe too fast, like he didn't deserve to keep holding it any longer than absolutely necessary. "Sorry. I'm sorry."
Her eyebrows pulled together for just a second, worry flickering across her face. But she didn't push, didn't ask what he was apologizing for. She never did.
"I've gotta get going," she said softly. "But I'll see you later, okay? Take care of yourself, Elijah."
She waved at him, that same gentle smile on her face, before turning to walk off with her group of friends normal kids with normal lives who didn't spend their afternoons getting beaten in classrooms.
He lifted his hand awkwardly to wave back, his arm feeling heavy.
Then he froze completely, every muscle in his body locking up at once.
He felt eyes on him. Not just looking *staring*. A gaze that dug into his back like a heated knife, burning through his shirt and into his spine. He turned around slowly, already knowing what he'd see.
Michael was glaring at him with such raw hatred that for a moment, Elijah genuinely thought he might actually die right there. The look promised violence, promised pain.
"Hey, fuckface," Michael growled, his voice low and dangerous, each word measured. "From now on, if I ever see you interact with Suzi again if I see you so much as look at her I'll kill you. And after I'm done with you, I'll piss on your grave. On yours and your dead mom's tombstone. You understand me?"
Elijah's jaw clenched involuntarily, his teeth grinding together hard enough that he tasted copper. Michael had always had a massive, obsessive crush on Suzi everyone knew it. And the fact that Elijah dared to exist in her presence, that she chose to talk to him of all people, was enough to make Michael lose whatever thin grip he had on sanity.
Elijah nodded quickly, jerkily, his head bobbing up and down like a broken toy. Then he bolted from the classroom, his feet carrying him as fast as they could without actually running.
When he finally got outside into the humid afternoon air, he sucked in a shaky, desperate breath. Relief flooded through him all at once, making his knees weak. The fear slowly drained from his body like water through a pipe, leaving him hollow and exhausted. He looked around at the ordinary world trees, clouds, other students walking normally and felt something that might have been a laugh trying to escape his throat.
He survived. He actually survived another day.
Maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something better. Maybe tomorrow would be different. Maybe
-----
Years passed.
Now they were in middle school. Everything had changed, and nothing had changed at all.
Behind the school building, in a filthy alley littered with overflowing trash cans and broken beer bottles that glinted dangerously in the fading sunlight, a group of teenagers formed a tight circle around a single boy.
Elijah.
He was taller now puberty had given him a few inches but he was still painfully skinny, all sharp angles and jutting bones. Still easy to throw around, still easy to hurt.
A fist cracked across his cheek with a wet, meaty sound. Blood and spit splashed the concrete ground, dark red against gray.
"You were with Suzi again yesterday," someone snarled, their voice vibrating with possessive rage. "After all this time, you still don't fucking learn. You think getting taller is gonna change anything? I'll rearrange your face till you look worse than the shit I took this morning."
Another punch, this one aimed low, slammed brutally into his stomach. Elijah gasped, all the air leaving his lungs at once, and doubled over, his arms wrapping around his middle as he tried desperately to remember how to breathe. Black spots danced in his vision.
He didn't fight back. He never did anymore.
Not because he couldn't he'd gotten stronger over the years, could probably take at least one of them if he really tried. But fighting back would only make everything infinitely worse. For Suzi. For the one person who still cared.
Michael, Caleb, William, Trevon, and Stephen… they'd all been beating him since elementary school, a tradition that had somehow become routine. A scheduled part of his existence. And he took it, absorbed every hit, swallowed every insult.
For Suzi.
Because ever since that day she helped him up off the classroom floor, she'd checked on him every single day without fail. She talked to him like he was a real person. She smiled at him like his presence brought her joy instead of disgust. She treated him like he mattered, like he had value, like he deserved to exist in the world.
And after a while, slowly, carefully, they became friends. Real friends. The kind where she didn't try to betray him or stab him in the back for social points. The kind where she actually listened when he spoke.
And because she kept talking to him, kept acknowledging his existence, the bullying had only gotten exponentially worse over the years. Nobody wanted to sit with him in class anymore. Nobody wanted to be seen associating with him in the hallways. They said he was cursed, dangerous, that bad things happened to people who got too close. Some rumors even circulated that he'd killed people that's why he always had blood on him, they whispered. That's why he was so quiet.
The orphanage kids avoided him like he carried a disease. They said he had a creepy vibe, that something was fundamentally wrong with him on a level they couldn't quite understand but could definitely feel. Even the care workers at the orphanage kept their distance, their smiles forced and brief when they had to interact with him.
After the beating finally ended and his attackers had gotten bored and wandered off, Elijah limped slowly back to the orphanage, each step sending sharp pains through his ribs. He headed straight for the communal bathroom to wash the drying blood off his face and hands. He tried deliberately not to look at himself in the mirror couldn't stand to see what stared back.
"Elijah."
The woman at the front desk called his name. He walked over on autopilot, limping slightly, expecting another lecture about his appearance or a complaint about the blood he'd tracked in.
Instead, when he rounded the wall divider, he saw Suzi sitting patiently on the worn waiting bench.
He didn't even blink. She did this all the time now. Had been doing it for years. She'd sneak in here after her own school activities ended, just to check on him, to make sure he didn't go back to his room alone, bleeding and crying where no one could see.
"Hey," she said softly, her voice like a balm on raw nerves. Her eyes immediately scanned his face, cataloging the damage with efficiency. "These wounds… they're worse than usual. What happened?"
Before he could formulate a response or deflect, she grabbed his wrist firmly and dragged him toward the orphanage's small nurse's office, not accepting any protests.
The room was empty the actual nurse wouldn't arrive for another hour at least. Suzi didn't wait or hesitate. She grabbed the first-aid kit from the cabinet like she owned the place, moving with the confidence of someone who'd done this a hundred times before. She practically did own this space, given how often she'd been here.
She cleaned the blood carefully, her touches gentle but efficient. Dabbed at his cuts with antiseptic that stung but he didn't flinch. Pressed cool compresses to the bruises that were already forming, ugly purple and black spreading under his skin. Her hands moved with experience, with real skill. Her mom was a registered nurse, and Suzi had been studying medicine since she was young. Everyone in their small town knew she was a prodigy, that she'd probably become one of the best doctors the region had ever seen.
And Elijah? He'd only gotten into engineering because of her. Because she'd talked passionately about her dreams of healing people, of making a difference, and he didn't want to be some worthless nobody standing beside her when she achieved everything. He'd worked stupid part-time jobs washing dishes, cleaning toilets, anything that would take him just to scrape together enough money to buy a crappy, secondhand laptop. He'd watched free engineering videos online and studied alone in the orphanage's computer room late at night when everyone else was asleep.
He wasn't great at it at first. But he wasn't terrible either. He was competent. Functional.
Suzi, though? She was operating on a completely different level. Genius-level intellect, photographic memory like him, intuitive understanding of complex systems. And she didn't even brag about it, didn't lord it over anyone. She just… was.
"Elijah…" Suzi's voice cut through his thoughts, quiet but weighted. "When are you going to tell them to stop?"
She always asked this question. Every single time. And he always dodged it, changed the subject, deflected.
Because if she ever found out if she ever learned that she was the entire reason he was getting beaten up every single day, that her kindness toward him was the fuel that fed their rage she'd probably distance herself. Cut ties for his own good.
And losing her would destroy whatever fragile thing inside him was still holding on. It would be the final blow. The one he wouldn't recover from.
"How's your mom doing?" he asked suddenly, his voice rough. "You said she was having trouble with that patient—"
Suzi stopped mid-bandage, her hands freezing in place.
"Elijah…" she muttered, her voice dropping. Her face slowly shifted, her expression hardening into something between hurt and frustration. "When are you going to actually talk to me? Really talk?"
He swallowed hard, his throat clicking.
"I am talking to you," he said quietly, not meeting her eyes. "It's just… some stuff is hard to talk about, you know? And some of it isn't even important anyway. Not worth bothering you with."
Suzi's lips tightened into a thin line. She put the gauze down with more force than necessary and stepped back, creating physical distance between them.
"You keep doing this," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "You keep calling yourself unimportant. You keep dodging every real question I ask. You keep making excuses and hiding and pushing me away."
Her voice cracked on the last word, emotion bleeding through.
"I've told you everything, Elijah. I've trusted you with so much about my family, about my fears, about my dreams. I've been completely honest with you about who I am. And you've given me nothing back. Just walls. Just silence."
He lowered his head, unable to meet the intensity of her gaze. Shame burned hot in his chest.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, the words automatic and hollow even to his own ears.
"That's not what I want!" Suzi's voice rose, frustration and hurt mixing together. "I don't want your apologies, Elijah! I want you to trust me! I want you to let me in!"
She threw her hands up in a gesture of helpless frustration.
"Do you have any idea—" her voice broke, and she had to pause to steady herself. "Do you have any idea how many people tell me to stop being friends with you? How many girls at school corner me in the bathroom to tell me you're weird, or creepy, or dangerous? That I should stay away from you for my own safety?"
Tears were building in her eyes now, making them shine.
"Even my mom tells me to stop coming here. She says you're troubled, that I'm putting myself at risk, that I should focus on people who can actually be helped. But I still come. Every single day. Because I care about you. Because you matter to me."
Her voice dropped to something rawer, more vulnerable.
"But I can't keep doing this if you won't let me in. I can't keep fighting for someone who won't fight for themselves. Who won't even talk to me!"
Elijah clenched his hands into fists so tight his nails cut crescents into his palms. His mind raced frantically, spinning through all the terrible possibilities.
What if she betrayed him once she knew the truth? What if she left like everyone else? What if she laughed, or worse what if she looked at him with pity? What if telling her everything only hurt worse in the end? What if opening up was the thing that finally drove her away for good?
"I… I just don't want to talk about it," he said, his voice barely making it past his lips. "Please. Can we just… not?"
Suzi stared at him for a long moment. Waiting. Hoping. Wanting something anything that showed he trusted her even a little bit.
He stayed silent, his eyes fixed on the floor.
That was the final straw.
She grabbed her backpack with shaking hands, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks.
"Fine," she said, her voice breaking completely. "Wall yourself off. Push me away like you do everyone else. I don't care anymore. I can't keep caring when you won't even try."
Her voice was shaking uncontrollably now, thick with tears and years of accumulated hurt.
"Maybe everyone was right about you. Maybe I shouldn't have stayed your friend. Maybe I was an idiot for thinking I could help someone who doesn't want to be helped."
He looked up sharply, panic finally cutting through his defenses. "Suzi, wait—"
"Don't contact me again," she said, her voice cold in a way he'd never heard before. Final. Absolute.
She turned around and walked toward the door, her footsteps echoing in the small room.
"Suzi, please—" he tried again, his voice cracking desperately.
But she was already gone, the door swinging shut behind her with a soft click that sounded like a gunshot in the silence.
And just like that, the only person who had ever held out a hand to him in genuine kindness, the only light in his dark world, the only reason he'd found to keep existing…
Was gone.
He stood there in the empty nurse's office, surrounded by bandages and antiseptic and the ghost of her presence, and felt something inside him crack. Not break that would come later. But crack. A fissure running deep through whatever was left of his heart.
His legs gave out, and he sank to the floor, his back against the wall.
And for the first time in years since his mother had died and left him completely alone Elijah let himself cry. Really cry. The kind of crying that came from somewhere deep and wounded, the kind that hurt your chest and made you feel like you couldn't breathe.
Because he understood, finally, that his silence hadn't protected her.
It had driven her away.
And now he had nothing left at all.
-----
**A/N:** And if you couldn't tell, this is a flashback chapter showing Elijah's past.
Also, this is the first of two chapters I'll be dropping since we had 20 power stones before the reset. Hit 30 power stones and I'll release 2 more chapters!