My Purpose | An unORDINARY fanfiction

Chapter Four: Hesitance

     "I'll take it from here, Remi," I assured. 

     "Are you sure, Blyke? Honestly, it's no trouble at all. I owe it to him for what he did last night."

     "I'm sure. You should head back to class before you're late."

     Convinced, Remi went off, with Isen having left a while ago. I walked towards the school infirmary with the heavily-injured John on my back, earning some scrutinising looks from the nearby students. 

     "Hey, look! Blyke's carrying the cripple on his back."

     "Why would the Jack go out of his way to help a cripple?"

     I snapped. "Don't you all have better things to do? Scram!" 

     Coerced by my authoritative demeanour, the vexatious gossipers scampered off like rats, leaving me alone in the corridor. I sighed, glancing back at John whose face was resting on my shoulder. Those bullies really did a number on him, huh? Oh well. Nothing Doc's tonics can't fix. 

     Both of my hands were presently occupied with keeping John on my back, so I gently nudged the infirmary door open with my knee and walked inside. Doctor Darren—grumpy as always—shot me a surly glare from across the room before gesturing to one of the empty beds. Judging by his look of annoyance, I presumed that John was a frequent visitor to his humble abode.   

     Well, that's not surprising at all. 

     I laid down the injured low-tier, pulled up a chair at his bedside and took out my phone to briefly scroll through some notifications on social media while he woke up. Eventually becoming disinterested, I put the device to sleep and looked up to see Doc handing me a tonic. 

     "Here, take this. It'll heal the broken bones and bruises within a couple hours."

     "Huh?" I hesitated, confused. "But I'm not the injured one—"

     "IT'S NOT FOR YOU, STUPID!" He yelled, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Give it to the idiot over there when he wakes up." 

     I set the tonic on my lap and sighed. Originally, I volunteered to carry John to the infirmary to take a burden off Remi's shoulders, but maybe I could use this chance to get to know him a bit better. After all, not every low-tier is able to spend the night with the Queen of Wellston, so she must see something in him that sets him aside from the other weaklings. 

     The bedsheets beside me rustled slightly, and I was surprised to see John sitting upright. I didn't even notice him get up, and now that he was awake, he looked... almost apprehensive? 

     "Uh, hey man," I began. "We found you lying in the hallway, and—"

     I wasn't able to complete my sentence before he abruptly slammed his fist into my cheek. It was a blow that had enough power behind it to send me clean off my chair, and I was stupefied as to how a low-tier could possess such exceptional physical strength. 

     "DUDE! What the fuck is your problem?" I growled, palming my now-throbbing cheek in pain and irritation. Across the room, Doc activated his ability, livid that he now had another injured student to tend to. 

     "JOHN, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? YOU ALREADY MAKE MY LIFE MISERABLE BY TURNING UP HERE FOUR GODDAMN TIMES A DAY, AND NOW YOU WANNA START BEATING PEOPLE UPINSIDE MY INFIRMARY?! HUH?" 

     Doc's intense paroxysm of rage, along with his nightmarish aura, seemed to snap John out of his violent stupor. He turned to face me, taking a closer look at the Royal whom he had audaciously struck. 

     "Wha— Blyke?! Holy shit, I'm so sorry! I swear I thought you were someone else!" John was immediately apologetic. I was still a bit ticked off that he slugged me for absolutely no reason, but sighed, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

     "Ugh, forget it," I groaned. "Here; Doc told me to give you this." He looked somewhat surprised as I handed him a flask containing a purplish-blue solution.

     "Oh. Thanks." He downed the liquid in one go, grimacing as he did so. I smirked. Doc's tonics were not known for being tasty; rather, they were notoriously disgusting. However, as someone who was frequently injured in Turf Wars, I could say that they got the job done extremely well.

     "So, how'd you find me?" John asked, turning towards me. 

     "I was with Remi and Isen at the time," I explained. "We were heading to physics when I noticed you lying on the hallway floor, bloodied and unconscious, so I took you here." I paused, letting the information sink in while John listened intently. 

     "So," I continued, taking on a more soft-hearted expression. "Who did this to you? To be beaten to such an extent is unusual, even for you."

     Johns visage turned grim and he clenched his fists, averting his gaze to the floor. "Who cares? You can't distinguish one piece of trash from another. In the end, every single one of those despicable bullies is worthless."

     His seething resentment towards the mid-tiers appeared to reach boiling point, so I gently patted him on the shoulder, attempting to calm down the furious low-tier. "Hey, don't worry about it too much. No point getting this worked up over—"

     John slapped my hand away. "Don't worry about it? No point getting worked up?" He repeated scornfully. "That's real fresh, coming from the fucking Jack of goddamn Wellston. Must be real easy to give that kind of consolation when you're too powerful to get picked on." He let out a harsh, derisive laugh before gesturing towards the infirmary door, dismissing my earlier concerns. "Spare me the fake sympathy. We both know you're only helping me because of Remi."

     I almost lost my cool, but managed to stay calm in spite of John's relentless criticisms. "And how can you be so sure? How do you know I didn't just help you out of my own volition?"

     "Because all of you high-rankers are the same! You really expect me to believe that you would help someone several tiers below you, when you have absolutely nothing to gain from it? Psh, who the fuck are you kidding? Get lost!"

     Seriously? Good to know that the cripple of Wellston is an asshole as well as a weakling.

     "John, believe it or not, there are some of us out there who genuinely want to help." I persuaded. "Take Remi, for example. I bet she's helped get you out of a couple sticky situations, and you're friends with her now, aren't you? I think it's fair that you give me a chance as well, considering I carried your sorry ass all the way here."

     John sat in contemplative silence, internalising my words. Okay, just one last push and maybe I can get through to him. 

     "I assure you that I have no ulterior motives. I just wanted to help out, and potentially get to know you as a friend. After all, it's not fair that you get Remi all to yourself," I half-heartedly joked. 

     The corners of his lips tugged up ever so slightly.

     "Besides, even if you personally don't want to hang around me, think about Remi. She's good friends with both of us, and do you really want to place her into a position where she has to choose between her friends for fear of us fighting? Wouldn't it be ideal if we could all hang out together?"

     "Alright alright, I get it, so quit your incessant babbling," John sighed, looking exasperated but also somewhat relieved. He extended his hand towards me, much to my surprise. 

     "The name's John. You might've heard of me," he smirked.

     I grinned in response. "Blyke. I look forward to getting to know you, but if you hurt Remi there'll be hell to pay. Got it?" 

     "Same goes to you, asshole."

     And so I took his hand and shook it firmly, signalling the start of a new friendship.