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[x-sparky.livejournal.com]

Sunday evening and Jono returns to the hotel after some 'rough patches' with his parents, and finds Angelo smoking outside. In the rain.


The hotel loomed in the dark like some sort of a monster, lit windows glowing through the rain like eyes. Jono wiped the clinging drops of water from his eyelashes and looked up at the building, trying to figure out if he wanted to go in. A passer-by under an umbrella looked at him oddly, but with his chest flaring open it was not a wonder.

Angelo was standing in the porch of the hotel, having come down there for a cigarette, mostly out of habit since he knew smoking was allowed in the rooms. He watched Jono for a little while, wondering if he was going to stay out in the rain all night, then made up his mind and called out, "Hey, Jono."

"Hey," Jono replied after a brief bit of hesitation, still staring at the hotel. Then he seemed to reach some sort of a decision and approached Angelo, the zippers in his leather jacket clinking faintly over the sound of the rain. "Need a light?" he asked, glowing brighter than the end of Angelo's cigarette when he inhaled.

"Not 'til I start the next one", Angelo told him, holding up his already-lit cigarette by way of evidence. He hesitated, before asking, "So what keeps you out here in the rain?"

"Suits my mood," Jono made a listless half-shrug, passively looking after another late night stroller who thought he seemed a bit too interesting.

Angelo frowned - this seemed gloomy even for Jono. "What's up?"

"Stupid of me to have been homesick," Jono said by way of explanation, leaning against the wall. The rain didn't fall so thick there, hardly at all, which was why Angelo had probably chosen that spot.

Angelo shifted over to make more space for him, without saying anything about it. "Why stupid?" he asked quietly.

"You know," Jono made a vague gesture at himself. "This. Not being human anymore. Suppose it was just a bit too much for my f-family," he stumbled on the word.

Angelo scowled slightly, but not at Jono. "What did they say?" he asked quietly.

Jono closed his eyes, thudding the back of his head against the wall. "Lots of things. None of them nice. Yeah. I kinda blew up the door on my way out. That's why I am. Like this." He pulled a corner of his jacket to shield his chest, then let it drop.

Angelo barely blinked at the increased glow. "I see", he said neutrally, hoping to draw out whatever else Jono might want to say.

The wall dragged against Jono's back as he slid down, leaning elbows against his knees and burying his face into his hands. "I stole my- my dad's credit card." There was a desperate twist of amusement in him. "Then I-" he stopped, lost somewhere in his grief.

Angelo looked straight forward as he spoke, voice neutral, aware that it might be easier for Jono to talk about it without anyone expressing too much concern. "Then you?" he prompted softly.

"Then I went to see Gayle," Jono's shoulders went up and down like he'd taken a deep breath. "I probably loved her," he continued flatly. "And I put her in a wheelchair for the rest of her life."

Angelo nodded. "The girl you mentioned in Mexico?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jono made no move to get up. Somehow it felt better to be as close to the ground as possible, he didn't feel so faint. "They're right, aren't they? I'm a monster. Just that and nothing else."

Angelo's head snapped round to look at him. "No! Jono, for all you may be, you're not a monster. Haven't people told you that enough times?"

"What do they know?" Jono asked, curled up around his pain. "But for all of that.. I'm a fre- mutant. There's no going back, is there?"

"There's no goin' back for a lot of us, man", Angelo pointed out quietly. "Me included."

"Well, aren't we just fucked," Jono turned his head to look up at Angelo, blinking rainwater from his eyes and looking like he was crying. "Call me a bloody idiot, but I had hoped-" he shook his head. "Never mind."

Angelo nodded, understanding. "Nothin' wrong with keepin' a bit of hope", he told the other boy, almost sadly.

"Even when it's false?" Jono swept his wet hair from his face, and turned up his collar. He stood up slowly, and this time, when a lady with a small dog went by and stared, raised two unflattering fingers into her direction.

"You didn't know it was 'til now", Angelo pointed out. "Now, you work out what you're gonna do next."

"Not many choices, are there?" Jono replied, one shoulder pushed against the wall as he regarded Angelo.

"No, not so many", came the simple answer. "But you do have some."

Jono dropped his gaze, quiet for a moment. Some water was sliding down his neck under the jacket. "Yeah. I'll pretend everything's peachy. And my dad's going to pay for it."

Angelo grinned wryly. "Sounds fair enough to me. Best do it quick, though, 'fore he reports it missin'."

"It'll take a day or two," Jono shrugged. "Just enough time for him to make up for being such a prick."

Angelo nodded. "I say he deserves it - don't know exactly what he said, but if it was about your mutation, he deserves t'lose a bit of cash."

"He just hates mutants," Jono muttered, glancing at the hotel front doors. Maybe it was time to go in already. The rain didn't seem to be letting up. "So his son can't be one. Guess that's it then."

Angelo shrugged. "Fuck 'im, then. If he hates us that much, then bein' relieved of some money's the least he deserves. He should just be glad Sarah's not here."

"She said as much. On the phone," Jono slipped his hands into his pockets, glancing at the last of Angelo's cigarette. "Wish I could smoke. Or, hell, drink. Anything."

Angelo looked up at him. "Dunno if it works like this, but... would it be anythin' like the same to get the feelin' of smokin' telepathically?"

"If Auntie Emma can share tastes with me, this should work too. Maybe?" Jono seemed equally tired of everything and intrigued by the prospect. He pulled out one hand and raised it to touch Angelo's wrist, but then hesitated. "D'you mind?"

Angelo shook his head. "Wouldn't've mentioned it if I minded. You sound like you need it."

Jono clasped Angelo's hand and closed his eyes again, a little frown of concentration appearing on what was left of his face. "Go ahead."

Angelo nodded and continued to smoke the last of the cigarette in silence, concentrating on the associated feelings.

Naturally it was more difficult than with a trained telepath, and Jono tightened his hold until he could feel Angelo's bones under his skin. It took a few long heartbeats to sift through everything else and find what he was looking for. "All the benefits and none of the drawbacks," he said, his voice seeming closer than earlier.

Angelo nodded, trying not to wince at the pressure on his wrist while he took a final draw or two on the cigarette. "You missed it?"

"Yeah, a bit." Jono's touch lingered, trying to get as much out of it as possible. "But I miss everything I used to be able to do."

Angelo glanced over at him, almost sympathetically. "Maybe we can use that credit card t'go out, an' I'll share drinkin' with you too, if you want", he offered.

Jono let his hand drop, and opened his eyes, the small nicotine buzz already fading. "Yeah. Thanks," he nodded. "At least I can get out of it when it's time for the hangover."

Angelo chuckled. "Don't usually get hangovers either", he said lightly.

"Lucky bastard," Jono fell from his tense stance and leaned against the wall again, both hands in his pockets.

Angelo grinned unrepentantly. "Years of corruption", he joked. "Should've seen me when I was a kid - thought I was goin' to die, the first few mornin's after."

"That must've been a sight," Jono offered a bit lamely, zippers jingling as he shifted on his feet. "But it did you a favour, if you've really no hangovers."

Angelo shrugged. "You just kinda... get used to it", he said. "Work up a tolerance, kind of thing. So it takes a lot to give me a hangover these days."

"We can try with this," Jono lifted his hand, the card between his fingers.

Angelo grinned. "That we can. You wantin' to max it out?"

"Thinking of buying everyone a round," Jono stuffed the card back into his pocket. "Think anyone'll want to come?"

"Are you jokin'?" Angelo asked. "A free night out? Everyone'll want to come."

"Brilliant. Freaks R Us on the move." Jono didn't say it unkindly, and possibly even with a bit of pride.

Angelo blinked a little at the unexpected note of pride in Jono's voice, then smiled slowly. "That's us", he answered lightly.

"Yeah, who else?" Jono eyed Angelo speculatively. "Thinking of smoking another one maybe?" He wondered if Angelo was getting cold in the rain.

Angelo was a little cold, but not enough to make it urgent to go back inside. And they were standing in a sheltered spot, so why ruin this new-found getting-on? "Sure, why not."

"You'll be fine, it's not that cold," Jono echoed Angelo's thoughts almost automatically, letting Angelo light up before claiming his hand again. Maybe it was a bit odd, standing there holding hands, but, after all, oddness was subjective.

Angelo only took a moment to consider the oddness, then concluded that half the passers-by were staring at Jono anyway, so what was a little more oddness? Drawing on the now-lit cigarette, he concentrated on it in silence.