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Post Party Festivities.

Except for ducking in and out to go to class, where he tried to be as unnoticeable as possible, Jono had stayed in his room. For once his homework was immaculate (if not completely correct) and on time... since he had more time than anyone else to do it. The homeland was also sending him a small stipend for pocket money, another thing he'd never expected. Fifteen dollars a week, a mind blowing seven hundred and eighty dollars a year. Or... around six pounds. Still, it was amazing. Jono had turned one of his notebooks (history, he did it all on the computer) into an accounting book and automatically saved half of it, writing in red pen the money he had to spend. It came in on a plastic card.

He should've become Powered a long time ago.

He had considered it a spin of karma to get to America just in time for them to (over)celebrate Valentine's day, a day he couldn't stand when it was done up in the reserved British style. The abundance of pink and red and hearts and glitter and floofy things had been horrifying. Of all the colors, Jono really hated pink. It reminded him of girls giggling.

So he'd totally skipped the 'dance'. Which probably had very few actual dancers dancing. He'd stayed in his room, read ahead in his English text, and tried to wash the glitter out of his hair. It was heart shaped. The glitter. Americans.

The next day came and hopefully all the pink decorations with it, and Jono felt it was finally safe to venture out. There were people around the halls, but the loud laughing and shouting that accompanied breaks in routine had died down to tolerable levels. He had no reason to go out except for curiosity, to see who was about. That, and he could only spend so much time with his texts before he went mad.

As he poked himself out into the hallway, a cautious turtle out of his dorm room shell, someone promptly flew by him and shoved a horrid orange flower in his hands. It was... it was a rose, he thought, but... a sort of... calico kitten orange. What was it with Americans and their need to genetically engineer everything into odd colors? A flash of red caught his eye and before he could think he held out the rose and mindvoiced, *'Ere. 'Ave this.*

They'd let Kevin burn through his powers until he stopped feeling like he needed to tear his own skin off the first night. Hadn't even risked trying to question him until that was done. And the fact that questioning him would have been an actual risk at the time still made his stomach twist into painful knots. But it would have. His skin had been crawling with need and all he'd seen anywhere was death. Even when he'd flashed a room bare in a heartbeat, burned through more than a week's training allotment of organics in moments, the death sight hadn't faded. It still hadn't.

And then the questioning had come. Hours of it. About who had said what and when. How they'd said it. How Josh had reacted and how he'd reacted to Josh. How he'd felt. What Julian's role in it all had been. How far gone his control had been shot to hell before he'd gotten out of there with Julian along to try and keep everyone safe from him as they'd made their way across campus.

If he'd ever entertained the intent to actually touch Josh.

That one still echoed in his mind. Along with the sharp stab of absolute horror the question had inspired. He'd managed to choke out a negative before his stomach won the battle he'd been fighting against it since Josh's room, and he'd heaved up ashy bile on the floor between his feet.

( They'd finally let him sleep then. Or try to. )

Josh stared at his fish as he swam about the small bowl he'd set upon the trunk at the foot of the bed. His black and white scales gleaming in the florescent light, fins fanned wide. After so many years, Josh still hadn't named him. He'd been an experiment in his gifts. A complete accident. He'd seen the fish floating in the water of an aquarium and just reached in after it. It was the first thing he'd ever brought back to life.

One of the agents had gotten a hold of it and it had been left in his room as a gift. The fish and Josh had been together ever since.

Though he was small, he was a life entirely in Josh's care and Josh took his responsibilities to him very seriously. He'd also become an outlet when Josh needed to focus. He knew the fish's make up to the very last drifting electron, and it was comforting and relaxing in a way that people just weren't.

They'd brought his fish to him almost immediately. He'd come back from the hospital tour to the one ever present constant in his life. He'd been so relieved to see him, he'd gone right to bed and slept peacefully.

( The days had passed... )