Young Writers Society

Heliodor Everett shook his head. “It’s better that than what happens if I… don’t.”

He looked down at his bleeding thigh. “We need to stop the bleeding. Or I’ll expire far before we make it back to Estella Fay and Kyle. And that’s if we can manage to find them.”

Jo nodded. She was glad the conversation had switched from Heliodor Everett wanting to stay behind to him wanting to take care of his injuries. That was progress, right?

"Luckily for you," Jo said, with a joking kind of smile, "you got kidnapped with me. And I can't die and magically heal myself, so I know how to stop more blood from coming out."

They carefully put Heliodor Everett on the ground and eyed their jacket. It would be a shame, tearing it up, but they could always make a new one. It was the beauty of shapeshifting.

She took her jacket off, picked a good spot, and shifted so she was now a mutant with blades for hands. Which honestly sucked for the mutant, but was great for Jo—it made it easier to tear apart the jacket into makeshift bandages.

Jo slipped their jacket back on, right sleeve now cut off and in long, long straps. They were back to looking like themself, too.

They crouched down next to Heliodor Everett and started tying the jacket sleeve around his leg. There was extra material, too, so she could move onto his other injuries afterwards.

Heliodor Everett held his breath as she started bandaging his leg. His father was a ruthless bandager, who would pull tight, wrap until the skin turned dark red and he scrambled to undo before the limb died.

But Jo wouldn’t be like that, right? Because Jo was everything his father wasn’t, somehow. And it was terrifying.

Jo was careful when she bandaged Heliodor Everett's wounds. They had gone through a lot of trial and error bandaging their own to figure out just how tightly to bandage them—seeing that they hadn't been able to access the Internet during the Dark Year.

"Is that good?" she asked, looking up from his leg. "I don't want to accidentally cut off circulation. I almost did that a few times with myself at the start of the Dark Year, and it was not a fun time."

He frowned slightly. Jo had ended up being a little too gentle. He opened his mouth to tell her so, but faltered. He had been so demanding up to this point, what happened? Why couldn’t he keep going?

“It’s, uh, you see-“ He stared at the bandage. Just ask for her to tighten it. Just ask for her to tighten it.

And risk her lashing out and tightening it until it hurt? Not a chance.

He awkwardly fumbled for the bandage. “I can do it. You’re providing me with enough assistance. I’d hate to impose.”

Jo shook her head.

"It's okay," she said. "You're the one that's hurt. It'll be easier for me to fix it."

She eyed the bandage. It looked like it was too loose, but she wasn't entirely sure.

"Do you need me to tighten it?" they asked. "I can loosen it, too, but I'm not sure it'll stop the blood then."

Heliodor Everett swallowed. “If you are feeling… particularly generous.” He had to watch his words now. Turn each syllable into a shiny, polished coin. Something worth hearing. “I know I would greatly appreciate you… tightening the bandage ever so slightly. I have nothing to give you in return except my undying gratitude.”

He glanced at the bandage and back up at Jo. “I… I would bow if I could. If that makes things better.”

Jo furrowed their brow.

"Why would you need to bow?" she asked, bewildered. She tried to think of anything she might have said to make him worry about how he'd be treated, but she couldn't come up with anything.

They looked back down at the bandage.

"Let me know when it's tight enough," Jo said. She started to tighten in, but only in the smallest of increments. "Just tell me to stop tightening it and I will."

Heliodor Everett couldn’t help but freeze as Jo shifted. It was so slowly. Calmly.

Gently.

“How are you so… gentle?” He couldn’t understand it. It didn’t make sense. It’s not like Jo knew him personally. How could they care about something like him? “No one… and I mean, no one, ma’am, has ever…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Jo paused, even though he hadn't said to stop yet.

They weren't sure what to say to that. There were so many things, Jo realized, that they had taken for granted. They still couldn't fully wrap their head around what Heliodor Everett was implying.

"I don't know how to explain it," Jo admitted, awkwardly. "I just...am. I think most people are, but you've just met the people who aren't."

“Most people?” Heliodor Everett blinked dully. “You mean most people are like this? They’re like you? They find how I am, how I was taught… wrong.”

He looked at where Jo was holding the bandage, his heart suddenly pounding fiercely. That didn’t make any sense. How was that possible? He slipped a hand under his shirt, brushing all of the scars that lay just beneath the fabric. All of the warnings. All of the lessons.

Did Jo think he was evil?

"No," Jo said quickly, already sensing the beginnings of his spiral. "Not you. Maybe how you were taught? I don't think taught's the right word, though."

She took her hands off of the bandages as she thought.

"It's more like treated than taught," Jo decided. "Most people treat others with kindness."

“Sure, maybe human to human. But human to alis? That’s… that’s not a place for kindness. That’s a place for control and… and submitting. Power and weakness. Knowing that you will always be inferior the people surrounding you.”

Heliodor Everett shook his head. “This is… perverted. This is wrong. You should hate me. Put me in my place. Hit me when I talk back. Let me die as soon as I prove to be worthless. This is…” He stared at Jo’s arms. “I… I don’t know. Not allowed. Inappropriate. Something that would get you fined and me-“ He froze. “You know… stripped.”

Jo shook her head.

"There's no one here who can hurt you," they said, and then they paused when they remembered they had just escaped from a torturer with him. "Okay, there is someone who can hurt you, but he's hurting you because he's looking for immortality. Not because of anything you specifically did."

They pointed at themself.

"And I'm not human, remember?" she said. "I'm a mutant, and in the eyes of the humans out there, I'm a lot more like you than I am like them."

“But you’re still better than me. And I’ll still get you hurt. Got you hurt. I’m not better than the person in there. It’d be better if I just-“

If you just what, Evvie? Let us kill you?

He froze, feeling pins and needles explode across his arms.

You know you couldn’t. You’re a coward. You’re far too scared to die.

“-return to captivity.”