Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

John is sixteen when he awakens as a guide.

He was laying is the dry grass, dry heaving after rough housing with his older sisters. They were espers after all, even the oldest one. His eyes closed to avoid the blazing that so rarely hit Scotland, John felt it click the moment it happened.

One second he was lazily lounging and the next had him turn on the grass, violently shaking as he emptied his breakfast on the dried out yard. He felt the world topple over, as if the universe was thrown off its axis and John was in the eye of it all.

He couldn’t see through the nausea, as if the haze was stuck to his pupils. His two sisters were by side soon enough, rubbing his back and ushering reassurances. But all John could feel was their surprise.

He could feel his mom, following the knitting show on the television in the living room. Felt her focus as she pushed the needle into the wool. Her rush when the show went too fast.

His dad in the kitchen, washing dishes deeply lost in his thought. John could feel the moisture on his hands. He felt it too, the moment his dad came back down, dish crashing into the sink. John could tell how many pieces.

He rushed outside hand still soapy, his wife hot on his heels, knitting kit still in hand. From them he didn’t feel surprise, no there was only absolute fear, striking and freezing. Soon enough the whole Mactavish family was out in the sun on the yellow grass.

Only his oldest sister was missing as John continued to puke bile like the world was upside down. His family was there either rubbing his back gently, wiping his face or whispering sweet gentle promises.

He was sick for a whole week, puking his intestines away and sweating until his body gave out all its water, sixteen years old John feared he would turn into a raisin. He vaguely remembers a doctor checking on him, someone taking a small vial of his blood.

Other than that, his awakening week was a blur of nausea and blindness. He was afraid his sight would never come back, that the earth would remain off its axis, just slightly toppled over. But he got better eventually.

John stop sweating and for once he was drier than his bed sheets, he stopped puking and even managed to keep a meal in. He had to have lost at least 5 pounds in that short while. The relief he felt when he was finally strong enough to take a shower almost had him cry.

He was still kind of blind, could see colors just fine but shapes would blur into the other. When he came back to his room, he found his bed stripped out of its sheets and bedding, left out to dry and breathe, the window wide open.

He vaguely recognized the shape of clothes his mom had laid out on the chair of his desk, put on the soft materials she had picked out for his sensitive skin. He had rashes all over, red and irritated.

He sat on the chair, turning to face the open window and let the fresh air hopefully wash away the lingering heat. He was a guide. John was a guide juste like his mom. He naively thought he would be an esper like his dad, like his three older sisters.

He was a bit young he knew it. While espers were practically born, awakening at ten or close to that, guide only came to in their twenties, some even after that. But John wasn’t too worried, if he was like mom, it was likely he wasn’t too strong.

John would likely be able to find his match in a common esper like his sisters. Be in a civilian bond like his parents. Working 9 to 5 instead of going to war. Espers had become the new army after all. The strongest ones an even better deterrent than atomic power.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad, John would be able to pick his match maybe even date like normal people do. His parents did after all. He hums when another whisk of fresh morning air rushes over his heated up skin like a soothing balm.

-

His everyday life changes. The next week John goes back to school, his older sisters on his heel. It turns out young espers were easily impressed, their gaze always on John like a beacon calling out to them.

The few espers in his class would fight to sit next to him, some faked tripping to sniff at his neck, following him around like lost souls. Offered to carry his book in the hallways, John turned them all away.

He felt nothing for them and only misplaced curiosity and offensive possessiveness from them. His teachers would glare either in anger, a cussing him of disturbing the class and their future, the precious espers.

Others looked at him with pity, as if they knew something John didn’t. Besides the idle hands always accidentally brushing his skin or his hair, the students in class weren’t the worst.

The older ones were. Those in the grades above, like his sisters, were more oppressive, more attentive and it left John feeling paranoiac, like a sensitive nerve in the fresh air.

They were always leering and he could feel their gaze on his figure like wicked fingers. I made him sick, he never felt inclined to return the intention. They didn’t call to him like espers should.

They were the ones to draw him out of school. During a football game they would purposely try to trip him just to offer their help after. It happened again and again, bumping into him, pushing behind his knees to make him fall, to make him kneel in their delusional fantasies.

Until one esper was too fast, maybe he forgot his strength behind the haze of the call, or maybe he was just a horny teen. He tripped him and accidentally broke John’s ankle, just to be able to feel his skin, to feel the weight of his limbs.

That was the day John started to curse his role, lying in the muddy grass, ankle broken badly enough to draw tears. Of course more espers started to show, trying to help John, to fight his assailant.

The school made two calls that day, the first one for an ambulance. The second to John’s mom, banning him from school grounds for the disturbances he caused. He was shocked enough when he mother told him that the pain felt numb.

He was lying on the hospital bed, eyes full of tears and throat choked with both sorrow and betrayal as a nurse put a plaster on his ankle. He was past wishing he awakened later.

John resented his role fully, punished in the stead of others. Over the course of the next weeks, his friends - no espers, came and went to see him, until they eventually forgot about him. His mom would later quit her job to teach him the rest of his eduction so he could still get his diploma.

-

When they went home after his plaster was fully in place and they’d tell him to stay off of it for the next 2 months, guest were waiting for them. His father had let them in and John stared suspiciously at the standard black car parked on the street.

John was red in the face, unused to using crutches when he reached the threshold of the open door. Sitting in the family couch was a woman in a black business attire, another man standing to the side, watching John’s every move.

The woman smiled with pity and soft gentleness John only received as condescending when his father helped him sit into the armchair, plastered leg propped on the « no foot on the table » coffee table.

He wiped his brow, small beads of sweat after both the effort to walk and the pain. John was pretty sure his eyes were still red from all the crying he did. He had cried more today than in his entire life after all.

The woman brushed back the small hair that escaped her very, very neat pulled back bun with a manicured hand that probably cost a week of her dad’s salary. She looked at John only, failing to hide a wince when she glanced at his foot.

« Hello John, I’m Carmen from London’s Center office. » she explained with a soft voice, probably meant to soothe, but from her John felt only hope and greed, past that damn accent.

He wondered anyway what someone from London was here when they already had a center in Glasgow. He glanced at his father, now standing by the other man who seemed keen to stay silent. His father gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

« You might not remember it but when you went through your awakening as a guide, a doctor from Glasgow’s center came to take your blood for compatibility checks. It’s mandatory for both registrations and pairing. » John glances back at her, jaw tight as her paternalistic tone.

« I’m here because we found a match with an esper from London, a very high compatibility at that. » she handed him a single file where most informations were blacked out except for the result at the end of the page. « 97%, it’s only the second time we have a match reach over 90%. » she finished with a stern tone, John could guess what it meant.

He wouldn’t get to choose, wouldn’t get to live a simple life. Good matches usually reached 50%, 70% if you were lucky. John would have to let numbers dictate his life.

« You’re still a minor, so you choose to come with me now or in two years. It’s your choice John. » she finished with a smile or tried to at least.

John felt the pressure from her words, match rate aside, if she came this quick to Scotland then his pair must have been a strong one, probably an important military asset.

He looked at his mom first, she was a guide too. John’s mom only gave him a reassuring smile, full of love, like the sweet woman she was. « It’s up to you honey. » kind words he’d expected.

Then he looked at his dad, the esper, more likely to take the side of the center. « Your choice John. » he was relieved to hear the words from his dad, sighed audibly.

« I’m not leaving. » He wasn’t ready to leave home, to leave his family behind. Even if he started at 18 years old he would probably be the youngest in the guide classes. His pair would have to wait.

Chapter Text

« Happy Birthday honey! » John’s mom shouts as John is sat in front of his candle illuminated cake. He asked for chocolate this time.

His dad emerges from the dark where he just turned the lights off of the kitchen. All his sisters are here, even his oldest one took a day off to come. Moira has just finished her training as a level 3 esper to become a firefighter. She hasn’t met her match yet.

« Thanks mom. » John smiles brightly, face sparkling from the light of the candles, he blows them after a long inhale, plunging the room in the dark under the cheers and claps of his family.

His sisters were always by his side after he awakened, not just pushing away unwanted attention from espers. There were there when John was lonely, when he was sad. They helped him to control his power, to find pride into it instead of shame, instead of anger.

They even trained him like an esper, from stamina to fighting techniques and John filled out enough in two years to confuse his role. He may be a bit smaller than average but his bulk is enough deterrent.

His dad moves again to light the room with the help of his improved senses. Caitlin, the youngest of the three sisters moves first with a flat, rectangle wrapped present. « Happy birthday, Johnny boy! »

He unwraps it delicately to reveal a new drawing book and John takes in the smell of new paper like a gift of its own. He turns to his sister, « thank you Cait. », gives her a bright smile.

Next is Amelia, the second sister, John isn’t surprised to discover a case of drawing pencils. He thanks her too, with a cheeky smile. John had taken to drawing when he was expelled from school.

Moira gifts him a much smaller box and John looks at her in confusion until it reveals a simple bracelet with a silver chain and a small Scotland flag, John loves it immediately, even swears to never take it off.

His parents are next, come forward with small rectangular present. « we know the last few years were hard for you John, but we really are proud of you son. » it’s his dad, John tries not to tear up at the words.

His mom is already giving him a side hug as he carefully opens it. It’s a brand new phone, still under plastic. He does actually cry, fat tears falling over his crumbling face.

He doesn’t care for the phone, not really. But he knows that his parents have been having financial difficulties since his mom quit her job to teach him. He’s overwhelmed with gratefulness, with love. His chest hurts.

« I’ll pay you back as soon as I get paid. » his parents shake their head at the words but John swears he’ll send them money. He clutches the phone to his heart, smile splitting his face in two.

His mom leaves with a wink to answer a call while his dad removes the candles and cuts the cake. John dries his tears with his shirt, plate already handed out to receive a precious slice. He started salivating as soon as it was in the same room as him.

The last two years were indeed hard for him, loosing his friends was really tough on his confidence. He couldn’t leave the house alone either, had to have either his dad or sisters with him because young, uncontrollable sentinel would try to get his attention.

But John had his family, always back him, always supporting him and he couldn’t feel more grateful. He fights the ache in his throat and new tears well up, focuses the plate in front of him instead.

His mom comes back into the room and John’s smile wavers at her face. Wilma is pale and John can’t help but to look at her shaking arms, hands tightly wrapped around her phone.

« I’m sorry John. » she brings a hand over her mouth when she can’t keep her scowl in. She looks so pained John jumps from his chair to take her in his arms.

« What’s wrong mom? » he tries to keep his voice still, tries to keep his fear buried. He’s never seen his mom like that, even when he awakened.

« They’re coming today, aren’t they? » John’s dad, David, whispers with his on scowl, jaw tight and fists clutched at his side. The warmth leaves the room.

« It’s his right. » Wilma finishes for him and John knows there’s no alternative. He stills, arms still wrapped around his mom. It’s his last day belonging with his family, after that his esper pretty much owns him.

It’s the case for military espers anyway, strong ones desperate for a guide of their own, for their perfect match that’ll make them more powerful. That can never leave them, something entirely theirs.

« It’s okay Mom, it was bound to happen. I’ll pack up. » John tries to smile for his mom, it’s too bitter to be genuine. He can’t help but to scan the room, only comes back with anger and sadness alike. But more than anything, hopelessness.

He tries to be strong as he climbs the stairs to his room. John closes the door behind him, lets his back hit the wood with a controlled breath. It was only a matter of time.

There’s no need to be afraid, bonded pair are faithful, kind and strong. They can never hurt each other. John has never met a military esper, it’s reserved for level 4 and 5 only. But his match can’t be much different from his sister, can they?

Espers yearn for a guide, that’s why they- he, as his mother said, couldn’t wait any longer. There’s no need for fear, John breathes in and out a few times, trying to calm his racing heart.

He’ll have classes until he’s good enough to follow his esper on missions, that’s it. Their high compatibility rate won’t influence their feelings but it’s a good start. Good enough to tolerate, to trust, to change.

John pushes off his door and moves to his dresser to find a bag or two. He pushes his favorite clothes into it and uses the other for his art supplies. His backpack, souvenir of his school years, is filled with his chargers, his old laptop, a few games.

He ponders, wanting to bring trinkets and figurines. He decides against it when his eyes find his bracelets on his wrist. He hopes to can visit his family often. At least on holidays, maybe for birthdays too. He wipes a runny nose on his shirt.

He holds back a laugh when he finds a chocolate stain right on the edge of his shirt, it’s just a small stain, but John hopes he has time to eat a slice with his family. He takes a few minutes to take in his room.

The green wallpaper has yellowed but John likes it even more like this. His desk, full of small dents and scratches, his bed with soft sheets to accommodate his sensitive skin. John takes one last full and deep breath, it smells like home.

He puts his backpack on, each arm occupied with other bags as he closes the door behind him and goes down the stairs. John clenches his jaw to fuel down his emotions, but his throat hurts too much.

When he reaches the end of the stairs the front door is already open. No time for cake then. John pushes his lips together but his nose scrunches with unshed tears. His family is there right on the threshold.

But John glances outside. We wasn’t expecting anything, maybe just a few representatives from the center. But it’s a single man standing next to a jeep parked on the street. His blood sings.

There’s no doubt that the man is an esper, tall and thick enough to put John’s frame to shame. He wear civilians clothes but even his posture screams military. He wears a black medical mask and a black cap. The hair on John’s arms raises when he looks up.

Blond curls escape from the cap, and his dark eyes catch onto John. A strangle sound leaves John’s mouth, still turned down in a scowl. He feels the presence of the esper in his spine, and a shiver racks his frame. They weren’t kidding with that compatibility. John can only imagine what it does to the esper and his senses.

He didn’t think the esper would come himself, it looks like the car is his too. Are they driving to London? He’s still stuck on the last step of the stairs as his Dad hugs his limp frame.

He doesn’t say anything but the gestures is enough for John. His sisters are next, all claiming a limb to hug and drag to their height. It’s stifling, John wouldn’t have any other way. His mom is last.

« You call home John. Don’t leave us behind. » his mom’s voice is too tight for his liking but John jumps to hug her anyway. He takes one last breath in her hair, swears to himself he’ll do everything to come home as often as possible.

He can only nod, John doesn’t trust his voice when his whole body feels like a taunt wire. He pushes on his feet forward, doesn’t look back. He can’t make this anymore difficult than it has to be.

He thought he could walk out with his head high but John can only look at his feet as he moves to the car. It’s only when his feet leave washed out red pavement for concrete that he looks up. The man is even taller from up close.

John has to crank up his head enough to hurt his neck to look into his eyes. They’re not that dark, his eyes, more a deep brown, framed my light eyelashes. John only has time to see a scar run on his eyebrow when the man takes his bags from him.

He puts them in the back of the car, turns to open the passenger’s door. He doesn’t look at John, only waits patiently for the guide to sit and put his backpack on the floor between his feet. Only when John has his seatbelt on does he close the door.

Soon enough the esper sits in drivers seat, key already turned to start the engine. John risks one last look at his home and sure enough his family is there, all on the porch. John waves, tries to give them a smile but only a sob pushes past his lips. He feels sick.

Chapter Text

The sobbing stops but only trading for fat tears down John’s face. He wipes them as they come, hands wet and sleeves soon darkened by the moisture. At least his nose isn’t running.

« Sorry. » he mutters between aggressive wipes, sure the esper will have heard him anyway.

John turns to the man when he doesn’t get an answer. Is he angry? His hands are lax on the wheel, thick thighs pushed apart on his seat. John is surprised the top of his head doesn’t hit the ceiling.

He can see his eyes just barely to the right of the windshield, not willing to turn his head. John can see his jaw working even under the medical mask. He shouldn’t apologize but somehow he feels bad for imposing his emotions. The flood of them really.

« I’m John by the way. » the guide speaks quietly while he faces the driver. His tears have stopped flowing, his body finally realizing he isn’t alone in the car. The esper can see they haven’t dried yet, can smell the salt in the air.

« Simon. » the esper answers just as quietly, but his groveling voice has a shiver zip up John’s spine. He still doesn’t take his eyes from the road.

It’s a soft name, John thinks, maybe too gentle for the soldier next to him. The heat he radiates has his shirt clinging to his skin. John lifts it to fan his stomach.

Simon’s eyes go over his side of the car again, while John continues to shake his shirt. He’s looking outside and the esper points at the glovebox in front of him.

John is quickly to follow with a raised eyebrow. He lets his shirt go, stain still visible and reaches for the glovebox. Inside is a small rectangular present. The blue wrapping is a bit too close to his nation’s flag.

He puts it in his lap and when Simon doesn’t try to take it away, just staring at the road ahead, John unwraps it carefully. His nose crunches with uneasiness when he sees the brand new phone.

« Ugh. » John can’t help the small groan of cringe that passes his lips.

« What? » Simon slows down the car, there’s nobody on the countryside of Scotland anyway. He turns his face to John, but with the mask, the guide can’t read his expression.

« Thanks. » John finishes to change subject, he doesn’t feel like disappointing the esper. Wonders if Simon would get angry. He puts the pieces of wrap into his back pack so he doesn’t make a mess and the phone stays in his lap, box unopened.

« What? » Simon continues, he hasn’t stopped the car but has slowed down enough to turn the top of his body to John.

The guide unconsciously backs away until his shoulder hits the window, it’s much cooler than his skin, warmer when the glances at the width of the esper’s shoulder.

He has a feeling Simon won’t let this go so he fishes for his phone, the one his parents just gave him, the plastic is still on the screen because John had to leave in a rush.

He sees it when Simon’s eyes widen in surprise and soon enough he pushes on the accelerator, John cringes when the car feels colder, when he sees the esper’s hands on the wheel, white knuckled.

He’s pretty sure his face is flushed with embarrassment, but he doesn’t feel sorry. He fiddles with the box, it’s a newer model than the one he has but he doesn’t want it.

« My number, save it. » He hears Simon mutter, jaw still tight, John notices the permanent scars on the esper’s hands. John thought they healed too fast to have scars.

He opens the box and the plastic of this one is gone, there’s only one contact, Simon Riley. He types it into his own, puts the box back into the glovebox.

« Thank you still. » he speaks clearly, turning back to Simon. At least the esper was trying to be nice, so John should too. They’re pretty much soulmates with their compatibility rate.

Quiet settles into the car, only the engine and the soft breathing of both men can be heard. John should find it stifling but when his flesh hums with want, he only finds it embarrassing.

—

John jolts when Simon gently shakes his shoulder. He’s fallen asleep, neck hurting when he was leaning against the window. It’s still daylight, John figured they would drive all the way to London, they must be halfway there.

Simon hands him twenty pounds as he rubs at his eyelids. He takes it in confusion until he spots the small shop where Simon’s stopped to get gas, they haven’t taken the highway. John twists his neck when he get out of the car where Simon is putting gas fuel in the car.

The esper hasn’t said anything so John figures it’s snack money, surely he can afford it. He’ll just get Simon the same he gets. He walks slowly to the shop, legs stiff from unuse and blood barely going.

The wind should bite but John is weirdly warm, probably from the ride with the esper. He pushes the door of the shop with a small greeting, heads straight to the snacks. The guide hesitates between energy bar and chocolate ones.

He still pictures his cake, the smell of candles, his mom’s soft smile. He dodges protein ones and goes for the chocolate and caramel ones. Simon can’t have allergies, surely? He gets two.

John moves down until he finds the fridges, looks for simple sodas instead of energy drinks. Maybe he shouldn’t give a brit ice tea. John hesitates, packs two bland waters instead, he doesn’t want to make Simon upset, not after the phone thing.

He moves to the register, Simon’s bill should cover it, he’s pretty sure he has a few pounds in his pocket if needed. The cashier welcomes him with a frown, he looks around the shop as John puts his items by the hole of the plastic barrier.

« Hi. » John greets casually, turns to the window to glance at Simon. He’s staring right at him, pump in hand still going. Creepy senses, the espers have.

« You shouldn’t be out by yourself. » the cashier hushes out with a whisper, glancing around the shop.

John cringes, this isn’t the 80s anymore but it sure feels like it. He hasn’t learned to hide his soothing energy, to cloak his skin. He souls be used to it, having spend the last 2 years never out of the house with his parents or sisters. They wouldn’t even let him get the mail by himself.

Still John gets angry, conflicted between arguing with the cashier and hurrying back to the car. He pushes the bill towards him anyway, bites his cheeks to keep an insult in.

« Would you look at that, you lost love? » a voice catches John’s attention.

He turns to two espers, weak ones, only level 1 or 2 with their energy. They carry a beer pack each, even though it’s barely mid afternoon. John takes a step back at their leer.

« First time seen one our age. »

« It is true what they say? That you have the prettiest bits? »

« Sensitive too I’ve heard. »

« Come on let us take a peak, just a small one. »

John shouldn’t be surprised, they both seem too young to have learn to control themselves around guides. It doesn’t stop the anxiety he feels, cheeks blushing at their comments. When they move to him, ignoring the growing warnings of the cashier, John steps back too, red in the face.

He’s had comments before but straight up harassment ? It’s the first time, so John steps back until his back hits a warm chest. He feels it immediately, despite the clothes, despite his sullen mood, the power that courses through Simon’s body.

He watches as the espers come to a stop and look up and up until their eyes finally reach Simon’s covered face. They must feel it too, that he’s a level 5. John should be smug, should be proud but all he feels is embarrassment and helplessness.

He refrains from leaning his head back into Simon’s warmth but he can’t help it when his shoulders relax enough to fit into the esper’s shape. John looks down when he hears them apologize, not to him, to Simon.

His face is pinched when he feels a hand steering him back to the cashier, he collects the items and Simon warm hand on his shoulder push him gently back to the car. The warmth never leaves him until he’s back sitting on the passenger’s side.

« Did you hear? What they said. » John’s hand warps around the esper’s wrist. The guide’s face is still red with embarrassment.

John lets out a small hiss when he sees the blush creeping on the esper’s face. The humiliation settles even deeper. He watches as Simon sighs and his shoulders relax enough.

« Want me to beat them up? » the esper asks with his eyebrows raised with challenge but John immediately clocks in the humor in his voice.

« Fuck off. » the guide answers, swipes his hand against the meat of Simon’s arm, he smiles too.

He’s glad that Simon’s not aggressive enough to believe two young and inexperienced espers could be a threat. While he didn’t laugh, John liked the softness of his voice like this. He liked the red of his cheeks when he looked down.