Takes place... right about now

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The heat was still a surprise every time Jono stepped out of the protective shade of the house. Still, heat or cold weren't as overpowering as they had been before his mutation had erupted, and he had found out he could stand the direct sunlight even with his all black, all the time. At first he hadn't really had much idea what the whole trip to Mexico meant, then it had become painfully obvious. Reconciliation.

So the sun found him blinking into the brightness, reflected from the pale sand and the sea beyond it. The beach was surprisingly empty, but maybe that was what private meant. He looked around, trampling across the sand until he located a familiar-looking figure, sitting down and staring at the waves. "All right," he said, flinging the words towards Angelo.

Angelo had wandered down to the beach to watch the fishing boats (and also, though he'd never admit it to them, to give Jono and Paige time to themselves). He turned on hearing Jono's voice, and immediately became wary. "Hey", he answered neutrally.

Before sitting down Jono took a moment to adjust his mind better inside himself, but not before he'd registered Angelo's wariness. Then he sat casually next to Angelo, but not too close . "I'm not going to bite, you know", his amusement was stark.

Angelo relaxed slightly, enough to make a joke, albeit a weak one. "It's not you *biting* me I'm worried about..."

"Oh, right. That", Jono shrugged. "I'm sorry I hit you." He raised an eyebrow at Angelo. "And if you're afraid I'll explode, that's easy too, just don't kiss me." Then he fell silent and blinked, perhaps realizing what he'd just said. "Who knows, *Paige* might walk in just then", he added slowly, then raised a hand to rub at his forehead. If he could have sighed, he would have. "I'm sorry", he said again. "You kept saying that you deserved that I hit you, but not more really than I deserved you kissing Paige."

Angelo sighed in his turn, then almost laughed, bitterly. "Jono... you have no idea. She's made her choice, and she's made the right one. You're better for her..."

"Better? You really think that?" Jono rolled his eyes, turning to look at Angelo instead of the sea. There was a mild breeze. "You've seen how I treat her and you say that?"

Angelo paused. "How you treat her? Man, you were angry that day - and apart from that, I've seen nothing wrong in how you treat her."

"I think treating her badly is all I do", Jono's words qualified for a mental mutter, and he looked down at the sand in front of him. "Anyway, I wanted to tell you I'm not angry anymore. I've hardly any reason to be; I would rather kiss someone with a mouth too instead of... me."

"Jono, don't you dare even think about giving her up", Angelo warned him. "I told you - she's made her choice, and she should be allowed that. Remember what you told me, that day I tried to leave? Well, now, consider the promise returned."

"So", Jono looked up measuringly. "If you leave her I'll kill you, and if I leave her you'll kill me." Then he nodded, amused again. "Fine."

Angelo nodded once, shortly. "Glad we got that clear. She can make her own decisions."

Jono regarded Angelo with a tilted head. "Let's hope she makes the right decisions then." He paused, suddenly uncomfortable. "Or she might end up like.. Gayle." The name was difficult to say, with too many conflicting emotions connected to it. Jono had never really talked about his girlfriend in England and what had happened to her. How *he* had happened to her.

Angelo was aware that Gayle, whoever she was, was someone significant for Jono. Reluctant to ask, he just said softly, "Paige is tough. And she knows what she's doing."

"I hope she's tough enough. With my track record of blowing up things and people", Jono shook his head.

Angelo looked at him steadily. "She is. Jono, I... I care for her. A lot. But she's chosen you." He ducked his head to look at the sand, and muttered, "She's too good for me, anyway."

Before really realizing what he'd done, Jono had smacked Angelo lightly on the head. "Are we going to play that 'Who beat up Paige better' game again?"

Angelo looked up at him, surprised by the almost-affectionate gesture. "No. I'm talking about before." He fell silent suddenly.

"You want to talk about before?" Jono rolled his shoulders and sat up straighter, heels digging into the soft sand. "Did you blow up half a floor and have someone end up in a wheelchair for the rest of their life?"

Angelo avoided his eyes. "At least, whoever that was, they're alive."

"Oh", said Jono after a pause, not sure what else to do. He thought was probably the last person who should ever try to offer comfort or any sort of sympathy.

Angelo let the silence continue, unwilling to offer any details unless Jono asked for them.

After a moment Jono gave up to his morbid curiosity. "What happened?"

Angelo laughed again, with no humor in it. "Which time?" After a moment, he relented, and continued, "But then, I guess there was only one that I cared about much..." He paused, putting the words together.

Jono waited, pushing his windblown hair from his eyes.

Angelo sighed, running his hands through the dry sand, and began. "I was fourteen. I'd been in the gang... maybe a month, and I was too green to get how things worked. I walked straight into a trap." He closed his eyes, pained. "There was another kid. A friend of mine since we were little. He was smarter than me, and he saw what was coming... and he followed me into the trap to try and help. And we both got caught."

A deep breath. Angelo was now staring forward, out at the sea, not looking at Jono to avoid seeing his reaction.

"And then?" Jono prompted despite himself, following Angelo's gaze to the sea.

"It was another gang. That laid the trap. They wanted to teach the leaders of mine a lesson - and they got two of us. They beat me up some, but nothing too bad... but the things they did to him..." He trailed off, then pulled himself together and continued. "At the end, when there was nothing else they could do short of killing him, they handed me a gun. One bullet. And they said... if I did what they said, they'd let me go. I should have shot one of the bastards and let them kill us both... but I didn't. I was fourteen, and I was... so scared... and when they told me to, I shot him in the head. I killed my friend." He swallowed. "That was my first killing. Not the last. Do you see now?" Finally, he turned to look at Jono, eyes desperate.

"I see", Jono said automatically, trying not to feel Angelo's despair, and seeing a lot more than he really wished to. It was perspective being forced down his metaphorical throat. For all his whining and angsting, he'd still never had to kill anyone intentionally.

Angelo pressed his hands flat against the sand, leaning his weight on them. "Don't tell Paige", he requested, voice flat.

"I won't", Jono promised quietly, thinking through the things he'd just been told. He had a sudden urge to flee back inside. Instead he just drew his knees up and wrapped his hands around them.

"Good", Angelo replied equally quietly. "She doesn't need to know about where I came from..."

"She's tough", Jono raised an eyebrow pointedly.

Angelo glanced up, vaguely amused by the use of his own words back at him. "Point taken. But still... I'll tell her someday. Just not yet."

A one-shouldered shrug was all the reply Jono gave him for a while. Then, "I could use someone who speaks Spanish when getting out of the house."

Angelo raised one eyebrow. "Are you saying you *want* to spend time with me?"

"Might as well", Jono returned, standing up slowly and dusting sand from his trousers. "I don't understand anything anyone is saying around here."

"Why not?" Angelo said, with a slight smile. "Haven't got to speak Spanish with anyone but Doug in a while now..."

"Well, you won't get to speak more if we stay here", and from Jono that was as good as an invitation. He started towards the house without looking back to see if Angelo followed.

Angelo grinned wryly, but followed him without comment. Why ruin what could only be a good thing?