Scrapped Together

Chapter Six: To Make Good

John Dory learned a lot of very important things the day of Gigi Tiger-Lily's Psithurism. He learned what grief and loss truly were. He learned that sometimes goodbyes could be forever. He learned that for some people love wasn't unconditional, and for them things could mean more than family. He learned that life wasn't fair. He learned to watch his back. He learned that he was capable of things he wasn't proud of, and he learned that there was a part of himself that scared him.

It was the part that had been stirred to life when he'd tackled and began hitting the other boy.

John Dory was ashamed of himself for hurting someone, even after they'd hurt him. He'd known it was wrong, and that was why he'd tried so hard not to respond to the other kids, and their taunting and jeering. When he saw what they were doing to the flowers however, he seemed powerless to stop himself. Without a warning a bright, hot light burned its way into his chest and raged through his skull and he just, lost control.

He never wanted to experience anything like that ever again.

John Dory had also learned that when his father said that there was nothing more important than family, that he meant it, and he would defend both that ideal and his family at all costs.

John Dory had never, ever seen his father angrier than he had been standing over him in defense. It had been terrible to witness, sending icy tendrils of fear to latch onto his spine and shake him. Yet, at the same time, it was oddly comforting to know that his dad would always be there to protect him, and jump into whatever fray necessary in order to do just that.

All in all, it would have been a daring and heroic act, if only the rage had stayed there, on the field of battle, and in the heat of the moment. But it didn't, it had followed them home.

That was what scared not only John Dory, but his brothers too, the most. Was dad yelling, screaming, kicking and hitting things. Dad apologized later, but it was a lasting impression of the man they'd always considered the calm, scholarly cornerstone of their lives. None of them could quite look at him the same way afterwards.

The day after the incident moved past John Dory in a blur. It was the second day however, when he came back into himself, and learned about accountability.

The welts on his back had been well mended by Grandma's balm, and though bruises were sure to come they gave him no trouble. His hands still hurt, his fingers stiff and sore, but undoubtedly no worse for wear than the face that had been on the receiving end. The worst of it by far was his shoulder which became electric with pain if he moved wrong, and of course, his head. All of the adults agreed he had something called a concussion, though they disagreed on its severity.

Dad, who attributed it to the blessings and virtues of youth, hadn't faired as well. His face a myriad of bruises, hands swollen to near double their size and knee no better, he was quite the sight to see as he visibly sagged wherever he might have been.

"How're you feeling?" he asked John Dory from where he slumped over his cereal bowl at the breakfast table.

"I'm alright." John Dory said, nodding, and regretted it immediately.

"Did you just get dizzy from that?" Dad asked at the sight of his eldest going wobbly. "Don't nod! Just say yes!" his concern turned into a laugh of astonished disbelief when the boy tried to nod again in response.

"Yes." John Dory answered with some slight embarrassment.

"Are... are you gonna be okay?" Spruce asked, eyes darting between his dad and big brother as he played with his food.

"We're going to be fine." Dad promised.

"What happened?" Clay, who wasn't satisfied with the explanations he'd already been given, demanded to know.