Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Though the summer heat still hung heavily in the air, the leaves around the small town of Deebeedee had begun to turn red, thus marking a new year of school for its young population. However, that didn’t amount to much. Most of the students had known each other for years at least, if not their entire lives. It was one of those small towns where everyone knew everyone. 

So for the incoming freshman class to Deebeedee High, it was not much of a transition. People already had their friends and they had been seeing these friends all summer anyhow. Save, of course, for a few students; outcasts, loners, also known to high schoolers as losers. There were a good handful of them in Deebeedee, more so than the average small town. They remained a complete mystery to the other students until their reappearance in their lives at the start of the year. 

Such was the case for Evan Macmillan. Everyone, of course, knew who he was. The son of the impossibly rich and reclusive Archibald Macmillan, an old-money businessman who owned a sprawling forested estate a ways off. And to the students he was more personally known for being a massive dick. He was hostile, cruel, full of himself, and temperamental. While he was on the football team he was known for often being benched for poor sportsmanship. His reputation as an asshole was so solidified that he didn’t really have any friends. So it was the source of minor gossip around the school when he returned from summer vacation with a broken leg. 

“Wonder what happened. Football practice?” 

“No, my brother’s on the team and he says that he wasn’t there.” 

“Maybe he tripped down the stairs or something.”

“Who cares? Now we won’t have to see him on the field anymore.” 

After the initial buzz, people quickly lost interest, and anyone who tried to pry further found themself dodging the angry swings of a crutch. Evan Macmillan was quickly forgotten until a few days into the new school year, when he barged into third-period art ten minutes late. 

Deebeedee High’s nervous art teacher, Mrs. Reveney, startled at the loud clunk of Evan’s dull leg that marked his arrival. “O-Oh. Hello, um, Mr. Macmillan. Are you…in the right class?” 

“Yes,” Evan growled. His glaring blue eyes darted from face to face before he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket and handed it to her. “They just fixed my schedule.” 

She glanced down at it to confirm, then a weak smile fluttered across Mrs. Reveney’s face. “Alright. Um, why don’t you take that empty seat next to Rin, then?” She gestured toward the stiff and scowling form of Rin Yamaoka who stared daggers at him from her seat.

“Fine,” he muttered. With that Evan hobbled over to the seat amidst a classroom overtaken by silence. 

For most, Deebeedee High’s art classes were just an easy A. But for the handful of students who cherished the fifty-five minutes of uninterrupted artistic expression, this was an uncertain predicament. Evan Macmillan in their space had the potential to make this semester unbearable. 

And by luck, the most disagreeable and outspoken artist in the class happened to be his new seat partner. Rin Yamaoka had a reputation as well. The teachers knew her to be an excellent if overworking student. The students knew her to be rude, impersonal, and overly defensive. Seating Evan next to her was like seating a match next to a stick of dynamite. 

Rin scooched her stool a few inches away as Evan slumped into the seat next to her. When he noticed her glaring at him, his own deepened. “Stop staring at me,” he snapped. 

“You first,” she hissed back. 

For a moment neither student broke their gaze. The other students in the room seemed to hold their breaths. 

Then Evan looked away and down at the paint-flecked table surface below him. “So long as you don’t try to fucking talk to me or whatever,” he murmured, almost more to himself than to her. 

A swell of anger flushed Rin’s face but by some miracle she held her tongue. Class resumed as normal, though the energy in the room had definitely shifted. Yes, nothing good could come of this new development. 

In this rudimentary and under-funded art class, it was only required for students to at the very least appear as if they were making something. It was those few students who took the class seriously that went the extra mile. And the most over-achieving of the art students was Carmina Mora. Carmina was annoyingly good at art. She made even the uncaring students feel under-achieving with her impossible talent for nearly all mediums of creative expression. Worst of all was that she was extremely encouraging and wanted all of the students to take it as seriously as she. 

So it was she who first approached Evan fifteen minutes into the class time, nervously extending an olive branch of a piece of paper and a pencil. Though Evan’s intimidating frame and seething expression made her shiver, she tried to remind herself of her principles as she forced a smile. “H-Hello, Evan. I know you’re, um, new here, but…it’s customary for us to use art class as a space to, um…make art.” 

Evan’s expression darkened further. She took a step back. “Um–Y-You don’t have to be skilled! This is a class for all levels. But if you try something, you might like it.” 

Suddenly he snatched the paper and pencil out of her hands rather violently. Carmina flinched. 

“I know how to draw,” he muttered, then hunched over the paper and began scratching dark, heavy lines into the innocent paper. 

Carmina’s shoulders untensed slightly, but she still scurried back to her painting as quickly as would be polite. Art class resumed again, but not without an air of anxiety present for the rest of the period. 

Chapter Text

On the first day of school, two different groups of delinquents met again at the front of school after an entire summer of being together. 

For the past year in the town of Deebeedee, the nights had been restless, as two rival gangs threatened to tear it apart. One, a tireless band of gleeful criminals; engaging in petty theft and vandalism only known as The Legion. The other, a ragtag group of amateur crime-fighters who called themselves The Knights. They positioned themselves as the town’s solution to The Legion, but they often ended up doing more damage than the Legion did. 

The adults of Deebeedee were at a loss to the identities of either gang, but all of the teenagers were aware. It was painstakingly obvious, even if no one spoke on it. The Legion was made up of Joey Cadogan, Susie Lavoie, Julie Kostenko, and, of course, that devious Frank Morrison. The Knights were far more painfully obviously Durkos Malecek, Alejandro Santiago, Sander Rault, and the brutish Tarhos Kovacs. 

These two groups reunited at the front of the school, on opposite sides of the yard. It was customary for the two gangs to respect each others’ “secret identities”. The Legion met on the far left side, and The Knights on the far right. 

Julie and Susie were the first of The Legion to arrive, and the boys followed. When they arrived, the four of them broke out into embraces. 

It was Frank that willed them back to normal. Frank, their leader, he who they all looked up to, he who swept the group under his wings and led the charge. When he arrived in the town of Deebeedee when they were in middle school, he had brought the other three together into a world of freedom and petty crime. Before him, the three of them had been average but ambitious students, always wanting more than a small life in a small town. But with him leading the charge, it felt like they were unstoppable. 

“Alright, everyone, let’s wrap it up.” Though Frank was in the same grade as the others, he was a year older than the others and it was apparent in his more mature voice and air about him. He reached a slender hand into the pocket of his dark jeans and procured a haphazardly-folded paper. “Moment of truth.” 

The other three gathered theirs as well, and they all lay them flat against a bench. Last year, during class registration, the four of them had taken painstaking steps to get schedules as close to each other as possible. Same class, same period, same teacher. There were only minor differences in elective choice. Julie and Susie had wanted to do Art, Joey was more inclined towards Gym, so Frank decided to split the difference and join Joey. 

All was going well. All was perfect. Until they saw Susie’s last class, that being her math. 

Frank sucked air between his teeth sharply. “Ah, bad luck, Sue. You’re with Mulrooney for Math.” 

“Is he that bad?” Susie asked cautiously. She had the best grades in math. 

“From what I’ve heard,” Frank replied. He patted her on the head playfully. “Sorry, Sue.” 

“Better you than me,” Julie groaned. Then she leaned over and draped her arms over Susie’s shoulders. “Man…what am I gonna do without you helping me??” 

Susie smiled and blushed. “W-Well, you’ll have everyone else to help you, too.” Then her face fell. That was just another reminder that she was the only one left behind in their math. 

Joey seemed to catch this, and he put his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. “Hey, we’ll still be good, alright? We’re still gonna…hang out…tonight, right?” 

The four of them smiled knowingly at each other. These days, they really only hung out one way past dark. Within the next few hours or so, Julie would text them the design of a mural, or Frank would make a list of places to “hit”, and it would be go time. But for the next seven, they would be locked at school, living the lives of four average teens. 

“Sounds good. Let’s get to English, everyone!” Frank slung his arms across the shoulders of the other three, walking in that obnoxious group formation that’s bound to create a blockage in the halls. 

On the other side of the yard, four grimy foster teens plotted their own evening outing, led by Tarhos Kovacs. Tarhos may not have been the largest or smartest among them, but he was the most driven of them, and he was the one who had come up with the idea in the first place. What all four of the equally poor students had in common was their love of History, and thus when a group of criminals started rampaging through Deebeedee, it seemed only natural to them to begin a Knight’s crusade to protect the realm. Donning costumes made of scraps of cardboard and tin, they set out on the streets armed with their middling wits and violent fervor. 

“You’re sure they’re gonna try it today?” Durkos asked in a hushed voice, the smallest but wisest of them. 

“Of course they are,” Tarhos replied confidently. “They’re The Legion. They’re bound to celebrate the first day of school with some tomfoolery. And we’re just the people to stop them.” He looked to each one of them with an unnecessary degree of seriousness. “All of you, pay attention to their class schedules. If we have classes with them, we might be able to do some reconnaissance and predict their next move.” 

“Or we could just run around town looking for them!” Alejandro chimed in. The reedy boy let out an unusually high-pitched bout of laughter. 

Tarhos let out a sigh, but not without some affection. “Yes, but that’s not very efficient. We need to nip them in the bud, not simply catch them in the act. It is only then that this town will finally be safe from those menacing criminals.” The others nodded gravely. 

Tarhos smiled with satisfaction, a swell of pride blossoming in his chest. A few years ago he could not have imagined that a ragtag group of youngsters could form such a militia. But now, while all of them had their quirks, they were undeniably committed to the cause. He internally patted himself on the back for providing such good leadership. “Alright, then. At lunch, we’ll reconvene and share if we’ve learned anything. Tonight, we ride onward.” 

Wicked smiles stretched across every face as they saluted each other before heading into the school building.

Chapter Text

“Useless, useless, useless! All of you!” 

Adriana Imai, freshman, manga otaku, and new Captain of Deebeedee High’s robotics team screamed up at her upperclassman subordinates. They all looked at their feet in shame and fear, a look that Adriana was beginning to love. 

It wasn’t common for an underclassman to become the leader of a team club. However, Adriana didn’t become Captain through regular means. She had worked towards the perfect plot all summer long to get the position: Researching the senior members of the club, studying their daily commutes, and, most importantly, taking them down. One by one Adriana fabricated personal falling-outs, fake schedule conflicts, and scandals until all of the department heads were out of the way. She even managed to get Trevor, the previous captain, expelled from school by planting all the cyberbullying charges on him. That left no one to stand in her way of dominion over Deebeedee High’s robotics team, and eventually the entire state robotics circle. 

Well, there was one thing in her way. While her intellect and knack for robotics was undeniable, the rest of her team was extremely lacking. She was loath to admit it, but perhaps axing all of the seniors wasn’t her brightest idea. The team she was left with was less than ideal. No matter how much bullying and threatening she put them through, she could not get them even close to her level. She was going to have to find fresh meat. 

Adriana put her hands on her tiny hips and resumed yelling. “You all get to sorting! I better not see a single screw out of place in this lab, or so help me.” She shot a deadly glare at Dwight from Build for emphasis, who squeaked like a mouse and buried his face in the buckets of spare parts. 

A cold satisfaction welled up in Adriana as she watched her minions do her bidding with trembling hands. Her mother said that she was too ruthless, but to that Adriana thought that ruthlessness was often the only way to get what she wanted. If she was going to be the best, a little ruthlessness would only help her. 

Adriana retreated to her tiny office space and looked down at this year’s plans morosely. She knew exactly what kind of robot to make, exactly what would help them win, but she doubted the ability of her team to execute it. And as much as it pained her to admit it, it was perhaps possible that she wouldn’t be able to finish the design by herself. 

“Those guys out there sure are useless, huh?” 

Adriana jumped and turned toward the sound of a voice from the doorway to her left. It belonged to a tall, lanky teenage boy, clad in a grubby hoodie and sweats and a devilish smirk on his pale, freckled face.

Adriana knew this boy. He was Caleb Quinn, fellow angry loner and genius engineer. The sight of him boiled her blood. “You!” she shouted. 

While Caleb was a grade above her, she had been involved in a rather one-sided rivalry with him since middle school. Ever since she had lost the battle of which student was allowed to fix the vending machines at Deebeedee Middle, she made it her personal mission not just to surpass Caleb’s ability but to hate him passionately and ceaselessly. There had been other slights after that, many that Adriana herself had orchestrated, all that had pitted them against each other in skill. Each time Caleb would claim what she perceived as a victory, it would only serve as fuel for her hatred of him. No one would surpass her, no matter what age or level of supposed genius. 

Caleb sauntered into her office with that obnoxious swagger he had. “Yeah. Me. I imagine you have some idea as to why I’m here.” He picked up a scrap of paper she had lying on her desk then flicked it away. “You and I might be the only folk who actually know what the hell we’re doin’ in this field. Seems like it’s time for us to work together.” 

Adriana’s stomach tied in knots. This seemed to be some kind of test. Someone like Caleb could be invaluable to what she was building here. But the idea of working with her rival, her enemy…she wasn’t sure if her pride could take the hit. 

“Excuse me?” she snapped. “What are you suggesting? That I let the likes of you into my club?!” Adriana took a step closer and jabbed a black-nailed finger into his chest. That smarmy smile of Caleb’s slipped off of his face. “Not a chance. You’re not worth it.” 

Adriana again felt that sick satisfaction from the pained and astonished look on Caleb’s face. It felt good to get one over on her rival. It felt good to watch him suffer.

Before Caleb could respond she shoved him out the door and slammed it in his face. Yes, it felt good all right. Right up until she remembered that her problems remained. 

Chapter Text

Portia Maye, like many others at Deebeedee High, did not have friends to welcome her back to school.

At least, not anymore. She did have friends once, but that was before. Before her entire world was torn apart. After that, nothing else mattered. After that, nothing was the same. All of Portia’s waking thoughts became consumed by one thing, that being her father’s killer. 

Judd Maye was one of the kindest and friendliest people in town, a true pillar of the community. He had built his corner store from the ground up and kept it running with his keen knack for business and good heart. And he had been the best father any little girl could have asked for. The two of them had been inseparable. Portia did everything with him; she helped in the shop, she cooked with him, she shared his interests. Her father loved Shakespeare, and so she did as well. Her father loved raising dogs and that love was passed onto her. He had given her the runt of the last litter after she begged for her own, and she trained and raised it religiously. Their family had been perfect. 

But someone had killed him. On a late night at the store, an unknown assailant had broken in and held it up at knifepoint. The security cameras provided no useful details save that the attacker was dressed in a dark hoodie and had their face covered. He had tried to reason with them, but the attacker leapt over the counter and stabbed him. Seven times. Portia wasn’t supposed to see the security footage. She did anyway. 

Since then Portia hadn’t been the same. She lost interest in school and the few friends she had. Paranoia and zealotry drove everyone around her away until it was only her and Snug. Everyone looked like an enemy these days. Especially because the killer hadn’t been caught. 

It had been years and the police were still clueless. But Portia wasn’t stupid like they were. She knew who had committed the crime. Dark hoodie? Covered face? Tactical knife? 

It had to be one of those wretched Legion. 

The adults were all fools. Everyone in school knew who the Legion were. Frank Morrison. Julie Kostenko. Susie Lavoie. Joey Cadogan. These names were branded deeply into Portia’s mind. Seeing them together at school every day was enough to make Portia’s blood boil. How could they be allowed to walk free when her father was dead?!

But, try as she might, Portia could not touch them. To the adults, The Legion were mostly model students. And she could not provide proof of their alter egos, no matter how hard she tried. They always seemed to evade her efforts, and at this point she had become so twisted she could not tell if it was by coincidence or by the machinations of that wicked Frank Morrison. But she would never stop trying to take them down. Never. She would see the end of The Legion or see the end of herself. 

As usual, Portia blended into the background of all of her classes, the only indicator of her presence being a near palpable energy of hatred and anger emanating from the back corner of each room, which the students and teachers did their best to ignore. In the classes she shared with The Legion she could hardly focus on naught but the growing storm of fury in her. The other classes, she was thinking of Snug. 

Snug was entrusted to her by her father, and thus she took care of him with the utmost diligence. Not to mention he was one of the last pieces of him she had. Those two facts combined made it so she trusted no one else with him, not even her mother. So she had started bringing him to school. She’d dip out of class every so often to come to him where he waited for her outside and feed him, walk him around, and play with him a little before returning to class. He was far too well-trained to run away, but she did worry that someone would steal him. Thus she visited as often as she could. 

During Math class, Portia checked the time. It had been twenty minutes since she had last seen Snug. Without a word, she stood from her seat and slinked out the door. No one noticed or said a word. 

Portia walked out the doors that led to the back of the school. It was a nice day, still somewhat muggy with the remnants of August. A good day for her and Snug to run around and get some sun. 

The dog lay underneath a picnic table at the far end of the school grounds. When he saw her approaching, he perked his head up and wagged his tail vigorously. Portia couldn’t help but smile ear to ear as she ran to him. 

He ran right up to her as well. The reunion was marked with many headpats and cheek scratches from Portia. “Yes…you’re a good one, aren’t you?” she cooed. Snug answered her with pleased panting. 

Portia reached into the pockets of her heavy jacket and procured a small tupperware of gruel. Snug was always underweight, and even at two years old Portia was sure he was not large enough. So she was feeding him well-crafted meals every day. This was a barley gruel mixed with chicken stock and spinach. It didn’t sound too appetizing to her, but Snug loved it, and every once in a while she would share some with him to show him support. 

This time, she merely opened it and set it below his drooling muzzle. Snug plunged his nose in it and happily slurped it up. Portia watched him lovingly, and stroked his silky ears as he ate. 

Then something caught her attention. A round head dipped back behind a wall just as she looked up.
Her pulse quickened instantly. One million worst-case-scenarios spun through her head. A teacher coming to collect her? A spy for The Legion? A man with a knife? 

“Who’s there?” Portia snapped. Snug, sensing her anxiety, lifted his head from his meal and began to growl in that direction. “I know you’re there. I saw you.” 

There was a moment of agonizing silence that followed, where all Portia could hear was the spiralling of her own fears. Then, someone stepped into view. 

She recognized him, though the two were of course not friendly. He was Kenneth Chase. 

As was customary with small towns, everyone knew who he was, and most knew to avoid him. While Deebeedee was not a stranger to weirdos, Ken Chase was the weirdest of them all. Already the rumors she had heard began cycling back through her mind as she gazed upon him. 

He’s always smiling! It’s really creepy. Makes it look like he has something to hide. 

Well, I heard that he brings a knife to school to cut people who fight with him.

I heard that he cuts up animals in his spare time. 

That one gave her pause. Instinctively, Portia wrapped her arms around Snug’s snarling neck. “What are you doing here?” 

Ken held up his large pale hands in a slow, clearly practiced gesture. “Oh…oh no. I’m not going to hurt you.” He even spoke strangely; in a very quiet and hushed way. “I’m just curious. I didn’t know you had a dog here.” His dull brown eyes lit up. 

Portia held Snug tighter. “Don’t come any closer,” she snapped as he approached. 

“Oh, but I have something for him that I think he might like,” Ken said. He hesitated for a moment, then dug into his corduroy pants pockets and pulled something out of it. 

Whatever it was, it certainly caught Snug’s attention. He immediately stopped growling and cocked his head. Ken’s smile grew wider as he brandished the object to Snug. Looking closer she could see it was a small piece of unidentifiable meat. “Here…you want this, don’t you?” he said with gentleness, though not without something more intense underlying it. 

Snug began to wag his tail as he gleefully gobbled up the scrap of meat. Ken watched him intently with something strange in his eyes. 

Strange as he seemed and as intense as Portia’s paranoia was, she tended to trust people that Snug trusted. And if there had been anything harmful in the morsel, Snug would not have eaten it so readily. But she still wasn’t so sure. “What did you give him?” she demanded. 

“A frog’s thigh muscle,” Ken replied. “From biology class.” 

Portia pulled Snug away gently by the scruff of his neck. His face fell at her clear disgust. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Instead, he reached into his pocket and procured other things as well. A feather, a bone, and the dried remains of a small creature’s paw. Snug sniffed at the objects curiously. 

“I know what people say about me, but I really do like animals,” Ken said, his voice taking on a more matter-of-fact quality. “But my appreciation is…different. I’m a scientist, you see. So I like to perform…hm…dissections. And then I like to take things from them. I collect things.” His eyes lit up again in that same strange and dark way. “I like collecting things. It’s like I’m trapping a memory in them.” 

Portia examined his gruesome collection without touching them. It was somewhat revolting, as was the strange boy that sat across from her. But it was interesting, in a way. She, too, understood the importance of mementos. Truly, the only difference between them was that her memento was still alive. 

“Can I pet him?” Ken asked, dislodging her from her thoughts. 

“Only if he lets you,” Portia replied. 

Ken grinned and eagerly grabbed at the top of Snug’s head. Portia cringed at the rough manner in which he did, but Snug didn’t seem to mind, so she let it go. The two of them sat in silence for a while, both lavishing Snug with attention. For the first time in a while, Portia felt some sort of peace. 

The bell rang, interrupting the tranquility. Ken sighed, shifted in his seat for a moment, then stood up reluctantly. “Will I see you here tomorrow?” Ken asked. 

Portia nodded. “Yes. I think…” She herself hesitated. “...Snug would like that. If you bring him more meat.” 

Ken’s smile regained its off-putting quality. “Yes, that can be arranged.”