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Viva La Revolución

HELLOOOOO, IT’S MONDAY <3

And abshna okay, so, there’s going to be a small...hiatus? Between seasons, for extra content :) And, today, I decided to upload another chapter of So They Were Hope (”Samuel and Ginger Had a Son” was the first one I posted) because, like I previously mentioned, So They Were Hope is like HCTTR’s Stars Above x’DDDDDD. So yeah.

You might need this one to understand the following chapter better :) but, I must admit, it’s not new X’D it’s a re-upload from my main @dawniebb but I deleted all my fics from there, so...yes. We’re moving Viva La Revolución to So They Were Hope :) I hope you like it and I hope that you’re having a nice day <3

Tag list: @obsidianfr3sk @nodrianbcyes @alecjamesartino @magykaldealings @kaiderforever @healing-winston-pratt @candy1523 @plain-jane-mclain @treaclesquirrel

Viva la Revolución

When the shooting started, Leroy Flinn knew he would die today.

He started wondering, then, what was a person meant to do in a situation like this; he wondered, also, what the others were doing; others like him.

Prodigies, like Leroy himself, who knew they would die today.

Alec Artino, from Social Sciences, saw himself as a visionary; as this woke entity who desired and craved change; a revolutionary. Viva la revolución.

To Leroy, he just looked like a guy who had smoked too much weed and was going to get all of them killed with his delusions.

He was kind of delusional, yes; just another struggling prodigy out of the bunch, with a very wide lexicon, the manners of a rich gentleman from the past century and a thick Italian accent that made his voice sound strangely eerie (in the good sense); these days, stating you had no idea of who the hell Alec Artino was, had the same effect as saying you lived under a rock.

His face was shoved in everyone’s lives like the air they breathed or the ground they walked; the headlines referred to him as a “prodigy activist” , but the highest authorities often talked about him as this...insane college student who wanted all this attention for an unknown reason; some others liked to highlight the fact he had come from Italy, which had...no relevance at all (to Leroy’s particular point of view) but the point here was that…

Alec Artino was…

Something.

A trend.

An individual who claimed to be the voice of the prodigies, and claimed to be fighting for the rights they had been denied from the moment they were put in a world that was meant to promote their deliberate exclusion.

To be honest, it sure looked like he was trying. But him trying wouldn’t make them less dead after today, would it?

The worst part of it all, was that the riot around the campus had started like any other normal riot, but things got out of control when Alec stated it was time to make things go wild, and what was meant to be a peaceful riot turned it into a violent one; and since the rioting groups were formed mostly by prodigies, the college authorities didn’t hesitate before making a huge deal out of it.

Suddenly, the whole campus was surrounded by patrol cars, cops and military platoons, given that, when it was about prodigies, people didn’t care about how many of them died.

They did, however, care about how many non-prodigy civilians died, so when things started getting bloody, those types of civilians, the ones people actually liked, started being evacuated to safer places, where they couldn’t be harmed. Where they couldn’t be touched by a bullet, not even by an inch.

Leroy was left here, in the dorm he shared with a guy who had probably given him away when he was being taken to a safer place.

Because, naturally, they didn’t come back for him.

And Leroy knew he was already dead. Staying here would get him killed, because the armed men were going building by building, killing all the prodigies they could find so they wouldn’t “cause more trouble” in the future.

In other words, staying here meant he would be found and killed eventually, and going there meant that he would be in the middle of a bullet rain and he would die anyway.

It was a nasty and terrifying thought, but Leroy believed that, when you thought about something awful for long enough, it stopped hurting at some point, because your brain became numb to it and just went with the roll, preparing for the worst.

That’s what Leroy was doing: Preparing for the worst.

He would die today. Yes.

And that, honestly, made his “I want to die” jokes a lot less funny (those things always stopped being funny when you were on the verge of death for real) but, what could he do about it?

Leroy didn’t know.

His laptop was right in front of him, and a completely blank document greeted him from the screen; he had started his death letter between 8 and 10 times now, because Leroy wasn’t good with words, no matter how hard he tried to be; he was a science person, not a…

Poetry person.

Still, he was naive enough to believe he would develop some type of ability to write stuff during high school or during his first year at university; yet, he still didn’t know how to start something as simple as a letter. It wasn’t a report; it wasn’t an essay; it wasn’t the start of a thesis. It was only a letter. And, worse, it was a letter he wanted to write willingly, because he knew that, if he died today, his body would never be found again and, sure, he was an adult and everything, but he wanted his moms to know what had happened to him. He would explain it to them.

Once he figured how to start the letter.

Leroy tried everything again.

“Dear Rhonda…”

“Dear Claire…”

“Hey. It’s Leroy…”

“To Claire and Rhonda…”

“To Rhonda and Claire…”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Heck.

Could the people outside just shut it for a moment?

Leroy groaned, scratching his scalp using both of his hands; at this moment, he was sitting on the bathroom floor, waiting until his laptop had enough battery. There were more ports outside, in the room, but he was used to Will (his roommate) using all of them at the same time, not because he needed to, but because he didn’t want Leroy to use them, like a territorial male predator, which was stupid (but he didn’t seem to realize that).

Right now, all of those ports were available, but Leroy didn’t feel like going out of the bathroom. He was too used to being here, with the awful warm yellow light that made the bathroom look like a haunted public restroom in a gas station.

“Dear Claire and Rhonda…”

Dear Claire and Rhonda, what?

“Take care of Schrödinger the hamster for me (though I guess you already do)”?

“Sorry for sneaking out when I was 17. I know you were worried. I shouldn’t have done that.”?

“I’ll be attaching some instructions for you so you can keep stealing power from the neighbor on Christmas Eve.”?

“Sorry for refusing to graduate from high school early, that would've avoided a lot of things.”?

“I love you.”?

“If you’re reading this, It means I’m gone.”?

BANG.

The power was out.

Great.

This was just another sign the end was near.

Leroy was going to die today.

He was ready for that because he knew that, being a prodigy, he would be killed eventually just for the sake of it. Yet, the thought of having to die thanks to a delusional hippie made him kind of bitter. This was a very dumb way to go.

“Dear Claire and Rhonda,

Alec Artino dragged me to Hell with him.

Sincerely,

Leroy. “

After that, he decided he refused to be conscious the moment they killed him; the last time he had been killed, back when he got his powers, he had been conscious all the time, and it hadn’t been a very pleasant experience.

Not again. No.

So Leroy decided that should be enough for them to understand and then, after removing all his passwords, he turned his laptop off and proceeded to go into the room, where the also hideous and bright emergency white lights were already on.

Leroy placed his things by his desk and, after taking a sip from his energy drink bottle, he went to sleep, because energy drinks barely had any effect on him anymore.

When his senses started to fade away, he knew he wouldn’t wake up from this nap.

-.-

But he did.

And he woke up in the most annoying way possible, with a loud bang on the door, which made him jump up, shifting into a sitting position almost immediately, as the banging continued.

Why couldn’t killers just be silent, a little more observant, and a little less dumb?

The door wasn’t even locked.

“It’s a pull door.”

His voice, in that moment, was met with silence; Leroy narrowed his eyes, confused, as the door creaked open.

And when he had a clearer visual, he realized that, if he had any opportunity to make it out alive of this one, that opportunity had vanished from existence in that very moment; that moment when he met Honey Harper’s gaze, not alone.

No. Of course not. Honey Harper was never alone; right there, leaning his whole body weight against her, was Alec Artino, gasping and groaning in pain.

She was never alone, because she was always with him. Right by his side, smiling and winking like an idiot to the cameras, and standing closer to cops that were already accusing her of standing too close to them; and just like Alec Artino, she thought she was invincible and untouchable.

Which, obviously, she wasn’t.

She was, in fact, as fragile and breakable as any human being was, prodigy or not, and this was the living proof of it.

Honey Harper’s clothes were stained with blood, although Leroy could tell that blood wasn’t hers.

There was an open wound in Alec’s calf, already bleeding through his pants.

A bullet hole.

Leroy felt his stomach twisted in knots, and for a moment, he was filled with lucidity, mixed with dread.

Maybe he wasn’t ready to die again. Or at least, not as ready as he thought, because the image of his moms, his hamster, and everything else seeming so distant made him feel trapped.

Perhaps in the previous scenario he would’ve survived somehow.

Somehow.

But not in this one.

Because in this one, Alec Artino and Honey Harper were here, in his room.

Alec Artino was going to get him killed, after all.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“What are you doing?”

“No.” Leroy got on his feet when he saw her walk inside. “You can’t be here. Get the fuck…”

“What have they done to you?” Honey interrupted him, and when he saw her narrowing her eyes, staring at him through the emergency lights, Leroy knew what she meant.

Because Leroy had a pair of huge and hideous scars all over his face. A little gift from his ex-classmates, when they had provided him with the blessing of being a prodigy.

“Oh, those monsters…”

“It wasn’t the cops. They didn’t do this to me.” Leroy stopped her, although he did touched his scars a little.

Even if he didn’t want to admit it, he was kind of self-conscious about them. They made him feel exposed, like one of those prodigies whose powers were so evident you just knew there was something weird about them; in his case, people knew that most of the people with scars as big as his’ more likely had some type of gift.

“It wasn’t them. Now you get out of here, just…”

“You’re a prodigy, aren’t you?”

Leroy blinked, as his eyes met Alec’s this time. He was trembling, Leroy guessed, due to the shock, and he looked extremely sick and nauseous. He was obviously in a lot of pain.

But not even pain was stopping his delusions, goddamn.

“You don’t get to say that.”

“But you are, aren’t you?”

“You’re being fucking nosy, given that’s none of your business!” Leroy screamed. “GET OUT OF HERE! YOU’RE GONNA GET ALL OF US KILLED! BE GONE! SHUSH!”

They weren’t cats or dogs, but he didn’t care. This was his dorm. His place. He wanted to get killed by himself for being a prodigy, not for hiding Alec Artino and Honey Harper in his dorm.

Like, he didn’t want to get killed. But if he was to get killed, he didn’t want to go because of this.

And, certainly, not like this, with these two dunces invading his room.

“COME ON, DON’T BE LIKE THAT!” Honey Harper told him, and Leroy could see she was barely able to hold Alec Artino anymore. “He’s injured.”

“They’re chasing him! They’re chasing you!”

“You’re a prodigy.” Alec Artino insisted.

What a stubborn piece of shit.

“They didn’t take you with the others. You must be a prodigy.” He said, looking straight into Leroy’s eyes.

“We’re all prodigies here. We must help each other.”

“Must is a strong word.”

“Just like we are!” Honey Harper said, hugging Alec tighter.

“Please.”

Please was also a strong word.

Leroy’s hands were starting to shake.

Between the bullets outside...between everything that was happening outside and here, inside, Leroy didn’t know what to do. He knew this was going to get him killed, but he knew that Alec Artino’s wound needed to be treated, otherwise he would keep losing blood.

Leroy didn’t know why he cared about that.

He shouldn’t have cared about that, at all; this guy was dumb and reckless and had deliriums of grandeur; he had caused all of this. This whole movement. This whole prodigy rebellion that was getting both prodigies and non-prodigies killed.

But Leroy knew, by experience, that everyone was totally okay with the idea of dying until they were on the verge of death.

“Get in. Quick.”

-.-

Despite looking as if she were about to have a panic attack, Honey Harper had managed to be in control of herself and this situation; once they laid Alec Artino on the bed, she started trying to boss Leroy around while she tied her hair in a bun and washed her hands.

And Leroy obeyed her, because he was an idiot.

When her hand started trembling for not being able to cut Alec’s clothes herself and asked him to do it, Leroy went and did it so.

She asked for bandages, and he went, like a stupid, soulless minion, to get her bandages.

She asked for peroxide, and he went, like her puppet, to get her peroxide.

She asked for water, and he went, like one of her bees, to get her water.

But when she started wrapping the bandages around the bullet wound that refused to stop bleeding, she asked:

“What’s your name?”

And Leroy saw a red flag above her head full of blonde curls, as he answered:

“National Anthem.”

Honey Harper didn’t stop her job, but Alec Artino scoffed, despite being weak enough to avoid sneering at him.

“You’re not telling me, then.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

He was an idiot, apparently, but not as big of an idiot as she was trying to portray him; he had been dumb enough to let them in, and he had been dumb enough to le Alec Artino bleed in Will’s bed. But he wasn’t dumb enough to reveal his name.

They probably wouldn’t live to see another day, but these two would go without knowing his real name. And that was for sure.

Honey Harper kept bandaging the wound and, at some point, she wrapped the bandage too tight, which made Alec groan.

“I’m sorry.” She said, clearing her throat, before proceeding.

Leroy stood there, pinching his own arms, looking at how it seemed his presence had stopped being noticed;they were in his room, and yet they were talking as if the two of them were alone, in their own, delusional, hippie little world.

There were some rumors among campus...and among Gatlon, overall, about Honey Harper being head over heels for this guy, and Leroy knew why…

But it was more noticeable when you were this close to her, just as it was very noticeable that Alec just…

Didn’t.

Even if he did love her very much.

And it was so evident it was...weird, almost embarrassing.

“Do you know if the telephone lines are still cut?” Alec asked, to which Honey tilted her head to the side. “...I need to call the Starchild to...tell him I’m fine.”

They had just arrived, after hours of running outside. It was safe to say she wasn’t qualified to answer that question; so, for the millionth time in the last 30 minutes, Honey Harper met his gaze,

“Do you know if…?”

“I heard him. I’m still here, in case you didn’t notice.” Leroy snapped. “The telephone lines are still cut.”

They would still be cut for a while, he guessed, because they had been since the attack had started all around the campus.

And still, if they weren’t, Leroy wouldn’t have told them anyway. These two were really underestimating him, because they refused to acknowledge he wasn’t as dumb as they wanted him to be.

He wouldn’t have let them use his telephone, because he didn’t know who this “Starchild” was, but maybe it was another one of their allies, which meant danger. A lot of danger, as he knew their allies were as nuts as they were.

Honey Harper stared at Alec Artino, who just nodded and smiled understandingly. And, for a moment, the dorm went quiet, with only their labored breaths as background noise; Alec, because he was injured; Honey and Leroy, because they were too damn uncomfortable around each other.

This…

This had turned out to be way worse than Leroy had initially thought.

Why, out of all the buildings in this campus, had they chosen his’?

And why, out of all the dorms in this building, had they chosen his’?

It was clear that, when something was already going bad, it could get worse. But Leroy didn’t know why it had happened to him. Why today.

And, of course, he had been preparing for this moment all day, so when they heard echoes of the main gate opening in the distance, at a lower floor, Leroy didn’t flinch.

Nor did he say a word, as both Honey Harper and Alec Artino turned their heads towards the door, knowing they were here.

Knowing they were doomed.

“They’re looking for you.” Leroy told Alec, nonchalantly, as he put both of his hands into his pockets.

“And, apparently, I’m coming down with you.”

“There’s no need to worry about that.” Alec said, almost as nonchalantly as Leroy, as he got into a sitting position with Honey Harper’s help.

“We’re not going anywhere with them.”

-.-

Once all the the lights were off and a...very improvised plan had been explained to him, Leroy locked himself in the bathroom with Alec Artino, who was sitting in the space between the sink and the toilet, trying to place his injured leg in a comfortable position, which was almost impossible in a bathroom so small; Leroy, on the other side, just waited by the door, sharpening his sense of hearing.

Because, for sure, he couldn’t see. It was too dark in here. But he could feel and hear.

Leroy didn’t know where he got the willingness to focus from, but somehow, he managed to hear the exact moment when...whomever they had sent to the building, kicked the door because nobody seemed to understand it was a pull door.

In that moment, cold sweat started dripping down his temple and his blood started running slower.

“She’s got it under control.” Alec whispered to him, and Leroy couldn’t help but think he was giving too much credit to a woman wearing a bloodied shirt that said “Save the bees”.

But, apparently, she knew how to use those bees as much as her shirt claimed wanting to save them.

One moment, everything was silent.

The other, there was buzzing.

Almost deafening buzzing. And grunts that turned into whimpers, and whimpers that turned into screams, until everything was so horrible Leroy had to discreetly cover his ears, to the point he barely heard Honey Harper as she knocked on the door and ordered them to get out.

And since, again, Leroy was an idiot, he obeyed her, as he climbed Alec Artino on his back and kicked the door open, running through the room, among the (probably) dead bodies covered in bee stings, in the darkness, until they arrived into the hallway, where the light from the outside could be seen.

The light that notified them they were starting to surround the building.

To surround them.

Mildly panicked, Honey Harper told him to lead the way, like they had previously agreed they would do, but between his own confusion, the whole building looked like a labyrinth to him. Wide and confusing. And all the hallways looked the same.

Leroy looked around, trying not to let Alec Artino fall to the ground, as his heart pounded so hard he could feel it everywhere, in every inch of his body.

“Which way do we go?!”

“I… I--...”

“WHICH WAY DO WE--WATCH OUT!”

But before Honey Harper summoned her bees, Leroy turned around, to the group of armed men that were coming down the stairs.

He barely thought about it.

In fact, he didn’t think about it at all.

He just felt the spark burning into his insides; one he had mixed feelings about despite his moms reminding him this hadn’t been his fault; that he hadn’t done this to himself; that he hadn’t asked for this.

However, he still, purposely although not very consciously, shoved that hand, overflowing with poison, into that guy’s face.

And he didn’t even have time to scream, unlike Honey Harper.

His face turned into nothing like cotton candy when exposed to water; and, for a moment, Leroy couldn’t breathe. Or speak. Or move. Or anything.

He just knew he was drugged with adrenaline. Absolutely high and blind. But he wasn’t having fun; not even the tiniest bit of fun.

He also knew he had killed that guy.

They made their way through the building among poison, acid and bees; there was a mild and cloying honey smell, but it still wasn’t enough to begin to cover the smell of burned human flesh and blood, as they dragged an injured Alec Artino who, despite being in a lot of pain due to that hole in his leg, was still doing his best.

And he did his best until, somehow, they reached the first floor, when all they could hear were the masculine voices telling them to surrender through megaphones, and all they could see were the lights directed straight to the building, meaning they were armed.

Meaning that, after all, Leroy hadn’t escaped death yet.

Even after all of this, his life was still hanging by the fingertips of these two idiots, who seemed to have their heads full of ground beef and suicidal thoughts.

And Honey Harper asked what should they do now.

And Alec Artino didn’t answer.

So she asked once again.

And next thing Leroy knew, was that the main gate of the building was opening right before their eyes, without any of them three touching it.

Alec Artino, who could touch and manipulate things with his mind.

Alec Artino, who had telekinesis, one of the gifts that were considered the most powerful and dangerous among prodigies all over the world.

Alec Artino, who leaned against Honey Harper’s body because Leroy refused to touch him once again, and faced the outside world, with them by his sides, as if they were their left and right hand.

Leroy’s world, suspended yet going at full speed, was overflowing with light; bright lights, coming from the lamps the army of police officers and military were holding, pointing at them with their lights. Pointing at them with their guns.

And they maybe were wondering who this new idiot was.

Why was he so close to Alec Artino?

Why was he with Alec Artino and Honey Harper?

How had he gotten here?

And those were difficult questions.

So difficult, that not even Leroy himself could answer them.

He was just standing there, by the entrance of the building, blinded by the lights and the weight of it all; standing there, like the revolutionary he wasn’t, looking how Alec’s bandages were starting to turn red.

Looking as Alec didn’t look back at him, but instead at the crowd who was surrounding them, ready to end all of them three.

And Alec Artino...smiled.

A wide, yet calm smile, while the world kept bursting into flames all around him.

“We are not surrendering to you tonight.” He announced.

The sound of at least half of the guns falling to the ground filled Leroy’s head, and he gulped.

A battle cry.

Hundreds and hundreds of battle cries, as injured prodigies came out of nowhere, responding to Alec’s presence, and attacking back those who had previously attacked them; and the battle continued until Leroy could see enormous masses made of red.

The same red that painted Alec Artino’s bandages. Of prodigies who were defending themselves.

Of prodigies who were fighting back.

The next day, not a word was said. The bodies had been removed from the campus and taken somewhere else...a place they never got out of, because the government refused to acknowledge their existence in the first place.

The rivers of blood had also been drained, and only a few drops of red remained on the pavement, or on the trees’ leaves, which didn’t mean anything, because it looked like paint.

The day was rutinary, and classes were held normally, just as if nothing had happened.

Leroy’s name had been erased from every class he was in, and when he went to the administration to express there was a mistake, people straight up told him he had never been enrolled in that institution.

Later that day, he received a call from a payphone, and recognized Honey Harper’s voice before he even remembered he had given her his number last night. She asked if everything was okay, knowing it was not.

A fact that wasn’t much different for her, because Alec’s wound was starting to get bad and he needed a hospital...way too much for a person who happened to be banned from all the hospitals in Gatlon, because, in the ideal scenario, he ended up dead.

Ending up dead for fighting back.

Other people’s logic was funny sometimes.

-.-

“Dear Claire and Rhonda,

Ace Anarchy dragged me to Hell with him.

Sincerely,

Cyanide. “