The Blazing Rebellion

Chapter 44

John POV

Now John knew why they'd told him to sit down for this. The words they'd just said were echoing in his head. He understood them, but at the same time, he simply couldn't process what it meant. It had to be wrong. He must've heard wrong. Right?

Both Headmaster Vaughn and the detective, Simon, were staring at him as if waiting for a reaction. John hated the pity he could already see in their eyes. That sadness meant that something was up. Dad can't be injured, though. He just can't be. John refused to believe it. Still, with every passing moment, he could feel the words sinking into his head, feel the meaning start to become clear...

He wasn't gone, but he was hurt. His Dad was hurt. The man who'd been there for John no matter what, standing by his side even after he'd become a tyrant, telling him that he didn't deserve the readjustment classes despite what he'd done, loving him even if John wasn't sure he would ever deserve it... Not just injured, either. His Dad was severely injured. It sounded much too close to dead.

With this thought, a wave of coldness washed through John. Suddenly, he couldn't look at the other's stares. Instead, he turned his attention to his hands. They'd began shaking. No, no, no! He tried to take a deep breath, but found that it was pointless; he couldn't deny the truth.

"W-what do you mean by that?" John stammered. He already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe it wasn't as bad as it seemed.

"He's in the hospital... your parents both are. They were hit pretty hard," Simon explained. He paused for a moment. John could sense his stare, as if asking John if he could handle more. John didn't meet his gaze. Just tell me. "Your Dad... he hasn't woken up yet."

At these words, John's head snapped up. "What do you mean?! I thought he was-"

He cut himself off before he could finish. If he voiced the terrible thoughts circling his head, it would make it even more true.

"He's alive," Simon confirmed, hearing where John was going. "He's just... in a coma. We don't know quite how bad it is, so it doesn't mean he won't wake up, but it could be awhile... he got hit in the head. NXGen figured out what was going on and attacked us when we were leaving."

Simon continued to talk about NXGen, saying something about his Dad having amazing combat skills, saying he'd helped them to make it out alive, really, but John didn't hear any more of the words. His mind had paused on Simon's second sentence. He's in a coma. He's in a coma.

He could die.

Without even realizing it, John had jumped to his feet. Simon stopped mid-sentence, staring at him, but John was staring at the desk in front of him, his head spinning. He wanted to scream at them that they must be wrong. He wanted to laugh and ask if this was all some big joke. More than anything, he wanted to see his Dad again... to see that he was okay. He wasn't, though. He was in a coma.

His Dad was badly hurt, and he'd done nothing to stop it.

Ignoring the shouts of Simon and the Headmaster, John turned and ran out of the office, the sound of the door slamming behind him faint in his ears. He could hear the pounding of his heart so loudly; it blocked out all of his thoughts as he continued to run through the hallways, past confused students, past teachers who told him to slow down. He didn't stop moving until he was out of the school building. A part of him wanted to continue running out of Wellston, as far as he could go, and run until he couldn't run any longer. He knew, though, that it wouldn't help. Nothing would help. He couldn't escape the truth.

John finally paused in his dorm room. He hadn't even taken his shoes off; the thought hadn't occurred to him. He didn't know what to do now that he was here. There was a numbness spreading through him. A whisper of no, no, no echoed through his head. His Dad was hurt. He was in a coma.

He could be gone anytime soon...

His breath caught in his throat. The words seemed to be lodged there, choking him. He needed to do something, but he couldn't. He couldn't do anything. In searching for a desperate distraction, he turned to anger. It was NXGen. NXGen did this to him.

Amber eyes narrowing, John pulled off his shoes and jacket and hurled them at the wall with all of his might. The thump they made when they hit the wall was much too quiet for his taste. Running forwards, John stuck his fist out in front of him, pounding it as hard as he could into the wall. His fist throbbed in pain; the feeling was refreshing, satisfying some of the anger inside of him. He drew back his hand again, punching the wall over and over, over and over, until blood was dripping from his knuckles.

John stared down at the blood, his anger fading. This wasn't helping, He couldn't help anyone by punching the wall; he'd just turned to anger once again. He always did that, used excuses to make himself seem better, but this was his fault. He hadn't paid enough attention. He hadn't realized his mother was gone.

He hadn't protected his father... he hadn't protected either of them.

His legs gave out from under him, sending John to his knees as hot tears streamed from his eyes. He'd always had his Dad, always. Now that he didn't, everything was falling apart. The world around him darkened in pain. He didn't want to think. He wished the words would just stop, that suddenly his Dad wouldn't be in a coma, that he wasn't alone...

Suddenly, an image of a magenta-haired girl flashed through his mind like a last ray of light.

She was the only one he had left.