Damien's brow was drenched with sweat as he sighed deeply from exhaustion. "Definitely getting stronger," he muttered to himself sourly, "so why doesn't it feel like it?" Clutching his heavily bruised left arm, he noted dryly, "and you're definitely broken aren't you?" It was the third time this week that he had been pulled into yet another fight, and it was also the third time he would need to go to the infirmary. He groaned in frustration, his allowance for clothes was also petering out.
Though the orphanage was a massive force that had protected and raised wayward children of all ages for hundreds of years, its large population meant that the meager amount the orphanage could afford to pay the children as allowance for their chores, just couldn't keep up with Damien's constant demand for non shredded clothes. He winced as he remembered asking Sister Hua for money or to fix his uniform was a possibility, but the many memories of the nun constantly worrying over his injuries, staying up late to care for him, and mending his clothing constantly while somehow always managing to find time for her own tasks, filled the boy with a deep sense of shame. Suddenly, Damien was ripped from his thoughts by a small, dirt stained hand pulling the corner of his shirt.
"Thanks for the rescue Damwen," said a chubby child, sheepishly, with dirt staining her cheeks. She picked up the notebooks that had been knocked from her hands, before quickly running away to the larger group of children huddled behind one of the old couches.
"Thanks for the rescue Damwen!" came a chorus of child voices soon afterward from a small group of similarly dirt stained children before they scattered off.
Damien looked at the merry, disheveled band of misfit kids running off. He'd come to become something of an anti-bully amongst the littler kids. They came to see it as his duty to protect the other foster home children from the older bullies and their gangs, whether he wanted to or not.
With a final strained wave he gave the departing kids a fake, pained smile.
Looking over his shoulder, he sighed solemnly at the pile of 16 year old boys that lay strewn out on the floor in various states of consciousness and suffering. Damien, with his one good eye, gave a pleading gaze, searching the crowd for any assistance. But as usual, there was none.
Heaving a heavier sigh than the one he had previously given, the golden and diamond blue-eyed, black child rose to go clean up the mess. Purposefully keeping his gaze focused on the older boys, he walked towards the mound of strewn out bullies, blotting out the sea of observers as best he could.
There wasn't anything Damien enjoyed about being voluntold by the entirety of the foster home to be their designated meat-shield from the other children that had either become too old to be viable for adoption or were from races considered "unsavory." Ivan's gang was far from the only one of its kind on the campus, but they had become a serious problem after they turned 13 and had failed to be adopted. Now that "graduation" was only 2 years away, they had transformed into a massive fucking problem. The beatings they gave other orphanage kids had turned from cruel to just savage. Some bullies had even gone as far as getting permanently expelled by Ma LaCroix herself. And yet, they always had a reason for their terrorism. There was always a reason.
'Best just try and ignore it,' Damien thought to himself. It was fortunate that he had the powers he did, but he couldn't take any solace in them. Despite magic being commonplace, he still had no clue what he even was. At the ripe old age of 12, that placed him solidly in the same unfortunate group of undesirables as the bullies themselves were. And everyone knew it. Though some were begrudgingly grateful, very few outside of the adults and the younger kids ever really spoke to him, if they even approached him for very long. None wanted to ruin their own chances for adoption and have to go through "graduation."
However, that fear apparently did nothing to their feelings of mercilessly taunting the boy for their own amusement.
"I told you he's gotta be an elemental or something!" one of the older girls whispered loudly to her friend, both were in their late teens, wearing hair nets and aprons over their winter uniforms, while sporting green plastic gloves. Their accessories shamelessly indicated cleaning duty they were currently skipping out on to watch the fight. "I heard they have all sorts of weirdly colored eyes, some even look kinda human too."
"I'll say!" her friend laughed, her hands cupped around her eye like a scope, "it looks human enough!" Both of them erupted into louder laughter, and for the millionth time, Damien wished he could turn invisible.
"His energy is weirdly kinda glittery though," the second girl mused, dropping her hand while sarcastically scratching her head, "so which is it Dami, ya gay or ya just European?"
"Third option," one spectacled 14 year old boy said from behind a massive book he'd been reading, sitting on a massive ornate couch near the two girls, "leprechaun."
"Don't be a dumbass Teddy, sure he's short enough," a different, younger latina girl holding a long forgotten mop chimed in, " but... A: if he was a leprechaun we'd be able to afford constant gas, and 2: everybody knows leps can't fight, and I'm pretty sure Damien hit Nelson so hard at one point, he actually shit himself!" She murmured with a shrug, "passing out right after was a blessing for him if you ask me."
"Nelly, learn to at least count first or say your alphabet... or at least stick to one, sheesh!" came the voice of a 9 year old boy from one of the many second floor balconies overlooking the center of the Great Hall. He was lazily levitating a series of brushes to dust the banisters and the massive ornate chandelier that hung over the center of the massive room.
Nelly turned bright red as the crowd swayed its laughter towards her.
"Fuck you Siggris!" she yelled back, sticking out a middle finger up at the boy while sticking out her tongue.
"I heard it," one other silver haired girl with purple eyes called out.
"I smelt it," another boy yelled, fake gagging while grabbing his throat as the room filled with laughter once more.
A different girl wheeling a bucket and mop passing by had heard the conversations and was genuinely upset. "On god, seriously on impact? You're not lying?" she looked around confused, "I just got here did I miss all the action!?" She lightly kicked her bucket in frustration, "damn it I didn't get to see it?! I didn't even know trolls could pass out from a single hit, even one as dumb as Nelson." She scratched her head in genuine confusion, "I thought their natural defense was just too strong, even if he is a halfie."
"As if that's the craziest thing ol sparky here did," an older, pale boy with light brown skin added from his spot leaning by one of the many massive ancient oil paintings adorning the Great Hall. His bloody red eyes were scrunched in thought. "I'm ruling out human, can't be, moving the way he does?" the boy shook his head with a befuddled, scrunched face, arching an eyebrow. "He's fucking 12, but he delivered the most solid hook kick I've ever seen, directly into Ivan's dome!" he said throwing his hands up in frustration, "with no hesitation! How do you outspeed a vamp that teleported?" He scratched his head, "If it wasn't for Tyson catching him lacking right after though, I would've said this nigga's got mod privileges! he's scripting!"
"You're mad?" A different tall, burly werewolf boy with dusty blond hair yelled out with a jeering smirk, he too had been leaning against another one of the large columns, surrounded by his own gang, as they spectated the commotion. "I had a lotta lunch money riding on his ass at least being somewhat human." He threw his own hands up in mock frustration, "how the fuck am I gonna eat now?"
The crowd howled with laughter, sharing their various condolences with their future starving dormmate, then going on about their various days, though some stragglers remained. Choosing instead, to remain entertained by watching Damien solemnly continue his self imposed punishment. All the while gossiping shamelessly about their outrageously capable freak of a dormmate, debating on what supernatural race he might be and casting new bets.
Damien had been dying from shame and anxiety at being in the center of so much attention for so long, but he had already committed himself to the task and so felt like he had to finish it. He began checking on the various states of the boys, while cautiously avoiding touching Nelson.
'I have a feeling he'd be thankful for that' Damien thought sarcastically.
Suddenly a broom came racing down from behind like the hammer of god, hitting the boy solidly on the head hard with a loud "thunk!" and a massive cloud of dust. He didn't even need to turn around to know who it was, the anger in her aura came flooding through her intent loud and clear.
"Hey Jess," the boy began weakly as he turned around to face the angry girl standing before him, rubbing his aching head and sneezing from the dust. Suddenly, the broom came flying for his head once again, although this time much faster and harder than before. Narrowly dodging the weapon this time before it embedded itself into his skull, Damien jumped slightly backwards, out of the way as the broom impacted the ground in a loud boom. Damien was then reminded soberingly, that Jessica was more than just another latina child at the orphanage. She was also a werewolf and even though she, like Damien, had yet to hit 13, she, like him, was still very strong.
Sadly, unlike Damien, she was currently extremely livid.
Poking the broom into the injured boy's chest, she slowly moved it, gesturing in a circle to the still passed out but now sitting up cabal of older kids, she then pointed her weapon back at Damien.
"Talk," was all she said.
"Oh my! now there's even a lover's quarrel! it's like a real tela novella!" the same boy with the dusty blond hair called out again while pointing snobily at the two, invoking another round of laughter. "I swear the writers this season are something else guys," he chuckled, shaking his head.
Jessica said nothing, without breaking eye contact from Damien, she reared her arm holding the broom back, suddenly whipping it as hard as she could. The broom, moments later, burrowed itself up to its frills, centimeters from the boy's head. Immediately, the Great Hall silenced.
"Will Daniel fuck off, or will he get his ass beat and hung from the flagpole again, by a werewolf that's younger than him... again?" Jessica asked nonchalantly, staring at the older boy expressionless, "stick around and find out, on the next episode of get a goddamn life!"
Daniel glared dangerously at the girl, but said nothing further. The older werewolf, backing off with only a snort, left the wall he'd been leaning on, turned around and walked off surrounded by his posse. Shoving their way through the crowd.
Moments later the great hall was cleared of any remaining orphanage children, allowing a group of 5 medical nuns that had been trying to get in around the sea of children, to finally arrive at the scene of the fight. Seeing the state of the older boys, and Damien, they immediately began administering healing pastes and chanting simple spells to mend minor damages. One of the nuns secretly slipped Damien an extra vial of healing creams, sharing a knowing, brief wink with the boy as she got up and went to resume tending to Damien's assailants.
As the older boys began to regain consciousness, they were checked one last time for head injuries and if they were stable enough to walk themselves to the infirmary. The six bullies tentatively picked themselves up, hoisting up their not completely coherent shit stained friend between two of them, and silently limped away. Doing so while avoiding all eye contact with anyone in the great hall except the few nuns escorting them back to the infirmary.
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Damien, seeing his cue to escape, turned around. He was looking for a way to make his exit, when a hand grabbed his collar, hard. Damien said nothing, defeatedly sighing while Jessica promptly dragged the helpless boy away to clean himself off.
***
"That quivering pussy," Jessica growled darkly.
They were in the orphanage greenhouse, Damien had been tending to the rest of his wounds while Jessica attempted to stitch together the remains of his torn button down uniform shirt. The evening winter winds whistling through the open windows made Damien sure he could feel every bruise dotted across his body. He was stuck in a vicious cycle of moaning from the residual pain of his injuries to shivering terribly in the cold as Jessica worked angrily and meticulously to repair his shredded uniform.
Damien silently thanked the precious few extra ounces of healing salve the nuns had brought for him when they arrived on the scene. It had been meant to mend his arm and get him at least to the infirmary, but he knew couldn't have another infirmary visit on his record so soon and the nuns didn't want to leave the boy to possibly get worse. His eyes fell as waves of sorrow and self pity rippled from his aura through his intent. All that he could think about was the last time Sister Hua had found him in the infirmary. The lack of all noise she made when she had seen the state he had been in after his last fight. The look of horror on her face was the last thing he saw as the infirmary doctors put him under for intensive care.
Damien shut his eyes.
He couldn't bear to remember how wretchedly she had cried by his bedside that night. The fight had been close. Too close. He'd just gotten out of the infirmary for a previous incident just earlier that week, when the band of children had descended upon the boy. They mobbed him, pulling his still injured and battered body. He had almost pushed past them desperate to get to his dorm and rest, until they mentioned that Ivan had gone after Theressa this time. Then all Damien could see, was red.
He knew that the bullies were strong, but they were still slightly more injured than he was from their last brawl. Damien knew that if he could rush them fast enough, and hit them hard enough before they even knew he was there, he could probably put them down this time. For good.
As he sat shivering in the cold, he began vividly recounting experiencing an innate domineering feeling that he still couldn't differentiate between vengeful rage and pure malice. The feeling came surging from somewhere in the deepest recesses of Damien's soul, but it roared with a titanic intensity, it needed revenge, and it was going to take Damien's body to get it, by any means necessary. It suffocating to the point that he remembered as he was losing himself to the emotions, he felt his ego start to turn off. Blacking in and out as he desperately fought off his inner demons warring for attention alongside the rest of his anxieties. He remembered in the midst of struggling against himself, desperately trying not to lose control then and there lashing out against everything around him, a thought came to him that if he just gave in everything he hated would be reduced to cinders. It whispered sweet promises of final, glorious retribution, and strangely this time, all of his normally tumultuous energy stilled itself. It was prepared, sitting ready like an executioner's axe, promising bloodshed. No, Damien knew this was different. He knew this time that if he lost himself, that the bullies weren't the only ones with lives at stake, his could be too, and the rest of the orphanage kids.
The exhausted boy slumped against the hallway as the children stared at him silently and fearfully. Time slowed to a crawl and Damien could feel his conflicting thoughts threatening to break open his skull, but from his pounding migraine he was delivered a sudden brief respite. It was almost as if the entire universe was waiting for him to choose, and for that moment, everything was silent. Opening his eyes Damien looked at the silently pleading children. Fear of approaching the older, loner boy was etched deeply into their faces, yet in their eyes, he saw an even more prominent, almost single minded hope that Damien would absolutely save their friend.
It was then, Damien made his choice, silencing the warring emotions in his head. He knew there was a chance he could be fast enough in his current state, he just had to try not to lose total control of himself. At least until he got to the scene. He knew the infirmary wasn't very far from the great hall, especially if he gave every last bit of effort he had.
In that moment, Damien had thrown total caution to the wind and exploded forward in a tremendous roar of power and fury. As he tore through the orphanage campus, unknowingly gathering more viewers to the fight, horrifying images of a prior event replayed constantly, chiseled into Damien's brain. Trying as hard as he possibly could to think clearly and rationalize a fight plan, the boy had continued his mad dash. He remembered the feelings of hopelessness mixed with exhilaration, as he pumped his injured legs as hard as they would allow under the weight of the tremendous energy bursting from his body. Damien admitted to himself he had then fully given in to his rage, especially as he remembered spotting the crowd and Theressa crying on the ground in front of Ivan and his cronies.
Ivan had done something similar to this before, and Damien hadn't been able to stop him then. But the last fight had been very different. He remembered one thought, seared deeply into his brain as his aura exploded forth in a rose gold shimmering surge of power, blasting the bullies who had been caught fully off guard hard into the air. As they landed in thuds and proceeded to get up, hatred pouring from their eyes, all Damien could remember was activating his SuperComputer to the fullest extent he could bear, clothing his body in brilliant sparkling rose golden energy as it crackled with rage. Damien remembered his only thought afterwards, until regaining control, was that he was going to hurt Ivan in a way he had never been hurt before. Damien's shivering breath slowed as he fearfully remembered how when his body filled with arcane power as he connected to the true depth of his aura he called his "SuperComputer," it mixed with the new deeper rage inside him. For a split second, he could swear he heard a voice singing distantly yet clearly, then everything went dark.
'Yeah so what,' Damien thought then, breaking himself from his flashbacks. 'I won, but now I'm huddled in a greenhouse, shirtless in the middle of winter, more injured than before, freezing my ass off, while my best and only friend I have hates me and now I'm also hiding from Sister Hua.'
The 12 year old had never felt so miserable. Eyes still shut, he shoved his head in his hands, shoulders slumped while he lamented his choices.
Jessica had been side-eyeing her friend throughout his reminiscing, but said nothing. She wasn't sure if it was because he was just heavily exhausted from the fight, or because they were in their usual safespot hideout, but his intent came cascading freely, erratically. It was almost as if it was shouting at the top of its lungs through Damien's aura. Yet what she felt in it, troubled her greatly. She didn't know the specifics, but something about him felt different now, really different. But from what she could tell from his intent, he likely didn't know what it was either. But one thing was for certain, her friend was currently suffering from a lot more than just battle damage. She sighed internally. On one hand she couldn't be mad at him for beating the snot of Ivan and his miserable ilk. But on the other hand, the fool had literally just been discharged from the infirmary after narrowly skirting a coma.
Now she sighed externally, shaking Damien from his thoughts as his hurried to recorrect his posture, not wanting to incite more of her wrath.
"Fixed ya shirt," she said simply, flinging the repaired clothes to the boy without looking at him.
"Thanks Jess," Damien mumbled as he rushed to put back on his woolen winter uniform top, getting his arms stuck in the process.
As he struggled the werewolf girl wrinkled her nose before sniffing the air, confirming no one had yet come looking for them.
"D, why do you keep doing this to yourself," Jessica then asked silently. She had moved over to sit beside Damien, huddling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her large, red cardigan around the both of them to conserve heat.
"It was Theressa, Jess," the boy said, looking at her with remorseful but stern eyes, "I will not apologize for putting that asshole in his place, remember Anna?" Jessica looked down slightly, the memory of the day sent shudders through her entire being. Damien's jaw hardened, his golden and diamond blue eyes radiating a vicious intensity. "He's only lucky I got to him before he actually touched her."
Jessica looked up wistfully, as she sighed.
"Amen to that," she admitted after a pause, "I'd have stapled his nuts above the fireplace while prepping a nice holy water jacuzzi for the rest of him."
She looked back down at Damien again and then she smiled sadly. Punching him softly in the shoulder she continued.
"But D, you can't just keep going 1v7 every time they threaten someone, yeah you're strong, but not even you're indestructible," she said sternly, as they sat under the snowy sunset. "At least wait till godhood?" she giggled softly.
Damien looked down with shame. She was right. He had wanted so badly to believe he was making a difference, but it was too much. The boy whimpered slightly in the cold as his conviction threatened to shatter, his thoughts threatening to drive him insane. Who was he to believe he could make a difference, who was he to think he could solve everything, wh-.
He was ripped cleanly from his endless self-ridicule by Jessica's hand suddenly resting on his cheek. He looked over, shocked to his core at the soft, sad smile she was giving him.
"No dummy, no spiraling, just promise to at least tell them to find me too next time?" she dropped her hand, resting it on his shoulder and giving him a malicious smirk, "we'd have really put the fear of god in 'em."
"2 against 7, damn we outta give them an 8th just to keep things fair," Damien quipped, laughing despite the pain. But that was the effect Jessica had on him, he never seemed to remember his pain when he was around her.
Yet, new anxieties forced him to push down completely anything he had felt from Jessica touching his cheek deep into his inner abyss. He didn't know if she could read his emotions from his intent, but he was terrified her werewolf senses could probably pick up on something that could out him, ruining their friendship forever. He couldn't let her know he liked her.
He wouldn't.
'At least she knows what she is,' Damien lamented silently, 'at least she's from a race that's high in demand, and with her strength, looks and intelligence she's once practically the princess of the orphanage! She keeps herself here.... because of me.'
Pangs of deep guilt threatened to make the boy recess deeper into the cardigan and himself, as he remembered everything Jessica had given up by choosing to be Damien's only friend his age. But at least she still had a chance for adoption, even if being friends with him had kept her there till she was pushing 13. She had never told him, but he knew she'd turned down some adoption requests so that Damien wouldn't be left alone. She didn't have to go through graduation like he did, she had options, she had a future. He wouldn't dare ever take that from her.
Damien winced as a heavy punch landed on his forehead, knocking him over.
"Ow!" he cried in pain, "you violent she beast!"
"Try to 'preserve my sanctity' again fool and there's another one like that coming," Jessica growled, holding her fist up, clouded in a thin illusion of rising smoke she'd briefly conjured to affirm her threat. "At least don't broadcast your intent so loudly, dingus."
Damien rubbed his forehead pouting in slight pain as said nothing, but gave her his best puppy eyes impression.
She had been kicking her legs, having unwrapped herself from the cardigan to punch Damien. She arched her eyebrow and folded her arms.
"Really D, puppy eyes to a werewolf?" she shook her head in mock disdain, "pretty sure that counts as some form of racism."
Despite his shitty mood, Damien couldn't help roaring with laughter, doubling over as the remaining pain from his recently healed ribs racked his body. No matter what, Jessica had always been able to cheer him up. He could never tell her, but she was always going to be special to him.
Damien turned over to pretend to cough, hiding his deeply blushed cheeks. Jessica hid a giggle behind a sleeve of her oversized, worn cardigan. Also blushing deeply.
As Damien was sitting, enjoying the last few minutes they could spend hiding in their favorite spot, he heard Jessica clear her throat.
Looking over, his breathing slowed to a crawl. Damien didn't want to believe what his eyes were seeing, but Jessica was softly holding his hand, her other arm still covering part of her own blushing face.
The two said nothing for a while. Under the moonlight, golden-green wolfish eyes stared deeply into gold and diamond blue eyes, both saying nothing for what felt like eons.
"Um, D... ," She began softly. Damien swore he forgot how to breathe. He could swear the universe itself had gone silent, just for that moment. "Um... I-"
The girl was silenced by the loud, distant banging of the 7 giant, levitating bells that clocked the orphanage's time. 9 distinct, loud chimes were heard by the two children.
"Awe shit 9 already?" Jessica muttered sourly, quickly snatching her hand back as she went to find grab her broom. As Damien watched her go, he'd never before wished more than that moment that he had the magical strength necessary to destroy those infernal bells. But, resigning himself to reality, he too got up and dusted himself off. He was late for dish duty anyway, and by now he knew news of the fight had definitely made its way around the campus. He sighed again, heavily. Straightening his posture, he decided 'welp, guess I can't run anymore.'
Jessica looked back at him, making a split second decision before she chickened out, she closed her eyes and gave a deep inhale before letting it go.
"Meet me by the benches after your shift!" she yelled before running off to the gym to finish her own nightly chores, her broom trailing in the snow behind her. Even as she ran with speeds gifted to her from her genetics, wildly trying to outpace the snowfall, Damien could only see the prettiest girl in the world.
Walking back to the great hall and on from there to the kitchens feeling like he was on cloud nine, Damien felt like nothing could ruin his mood. He didn't know what she'd wanted to talk to him about, kicking himself mentally that he'd been too distracted to try feeling for her aura to see her intent, but he couldn't stop thinking about how she had looked under the greenhouse moonlight. The boy wasn't sure he'd ever had his thoughts so completely silenced like that before. The haze of happy emotions carried him through the cold unphased. Before Damien could even realize how far he'd walked, he was right in front of the double doors leading into the kitchens.