Chapter Text
Fitz should have listened when Elwin told him not to go to school if he didn't feel well.
His legs were heavy, and his eyes were burning, and he felt gross.
Just one more class, he thought, then it will be lunch time and you can go see Elwin.
He didn't really want to talk to Elwin, but staying at school was just making him miserable.
Someone rushed past him and slammed him into the lockers.
A few people turned to look at him, but by the time Fitz turned around the person was gone. He grabbed his things, some of which had fallen on the ground, and started for his next class.
People kept staring at him, and he shift uncomfortably. He was used to people looking at him for various reasons, he was a Vacker, he'd missed a lot of school, he had the best grades, but this was different. Everyone seemed angry.
He was almost to class when someone slipped something in his pocket.
He turned to see who it was, but nobody was there.
He sighed and made his way to the room, surprised to find that his teacher had gone home and he was to go to the library for the duration of the class.
He groaned. The library was on the other side of the school and on another floor. Still, he wasn't ready to face Elwin just yet, so he dragged himself to the library and sat at an empty table.
The work he'd been left with was simple and he was done in a matter of minutes. He worked on other assignments, but by time he was done, he still had an forty minutes left in the class.
"Stupid extended schedule," he grumbled, walking around the library in search of something to read.
After about ten minutes of wandering, he remembered the note.
He stopped walking and looked around, seeing no one.
Of course no one is here. They all have class, idiot.
Fitz sighed and pulled out the note.
His eyes widened and it slipped from his hands.
He brushed off the shock and picked it up again, rereading it as though the words had changed.
What kind of freak tries to kill their own brother? Maybe the council should stop worrying about the crazies outside their reach and worry about the one walking around like hes done nothing wrong.
Fitz shoved the note in his pocket.
He knew that he shouldn't have tried to kill Alvar, but something had made him want to. Some twisted part of him that couldn't stand the idea of just existing without getting involved. A part of him that was so small, but so much stronger than the rest.
He took a deep breath and went back to his seat, digging through his bag in hopes of finding something to do.
Inside was another note.
He looked around, then he opened his mind to people's thoughts.
Nothing.
No need to worry psycho.
A wave of nausea hit him as he read his dad's favorite words over again.
He took a shaky breath and put the notes in his bag. He could have thrown them out, but that twisted something inside him told him not to, and he listened.
He didn't want to leave his things lying around, so he gathered them and continued to walk around the library, still refusing to go to Elwin.
A book was lying on the floor with a piece of paper sticking out of it. He picked it up, assuming someone had dropped it. He would just put it on the checkout desk in case they came by.
He looked at the book, it was one he'd been required to read when he first manifested. Understanding the Elvin Psyche and Influences.
Writing on the bookmark caught his attention as he realized it said his name.
He looked around again. He opened his mind. He tried to find someone, any one. No one was there.
Reluctantly, he opened to the page where the marker had been.
Sometimes there are factors that cause some Elves to react in certain, unnatural ways. Though it is rare, some Elves do have the capacity to commit horrible acts and see horrible things.
He swayed a little.
These Elves are generally deemed not suited for society, or sent somewhere like Exile. Some of these Elves, however, are able to remain just sane enough to be permitted to continue living normally.
He almost closed the book, but he noticed that something was faintly underlined and, against his better judgement, he read the words.
Some Elves lack the ability to interpret their own, and others emotions. This causes them to react in harsher ways and falsely interpret feelings. Grief, guilt, fear, and depression may have a similar reaction, one that is often confused for as anger, even by empaths.
He was going to be sick.
He removed the bookmark and closed the book, finally ready to go to see Elwin.
The twisted part of him stopped him before he made it out the door.
There was more underlined text. He went rigid. You deserve it anyway. They aren't wrong. Go see what it says.
He wasn't sure why, but he made his way back to the book, flipping through the pages until he found it again.
These Elves are also likely to, or have someone else, interpret their emotions incorrectly. Feelings of safety, relief, worry, or even resentment may be viewed as familial, platonic, or even romantic love. In the long term, their behavior can become destructive to both other Elves and themselves. Immediate treatment is recommended, and if treatment fails, quarantine is far safer than banishment.
He slammed the book closed, tears welling up in his eyes.
It was just one person trying to get into his head.
He was fine.
They're right. You are a freak.
Crying in the library over a few words in a book.
Get a grip.
How pathetic.
No reason to worry psycho.
He put the book back on the shelf right before the bell rang. He jumped slightly. How much time had passed?
It didn't matter.
He made his way to his locker. He needed to gather his things. He had no doubt that Elwin would send him home.
The locker swung open and out fell three more notes.
People were watching him.
He took a deep breath and shoved them in his pocket, quickly grabbing his things and rushing toward the infirmary.
He stopped on his way and slipped into an empty classroom, pulling out the first note.
Everyone would be better off without you.
He shoved it into his bag, making sure it was deep enough Elwin wouldn't see it. Then he pulled out the second note.
It wasn't really a note, but a drawing. It wasn't well-done, but it got the point across.
It was of him holding a blade with blood on it and a body laying at his feet.
What was wrong with people?
He shoved that note into his bag too before pulling out the final note.
Did you really even like her? Or were your emotions to confusing? I guess it doesn't matter because 'there's no reason to worry' right Psycho?
His vision was blurry and he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He couldn't do that though, so instead he wiped his eyes and pulled himself together, burying the note.
The bell rang as he left the classroom and made his way down the hall. A teacher stopped him, but after one look he was told he was free to go.
Before he knew it, he was in Elwin's office, watching as the doctor rambled to himself about medicine.
He knocked on a table, unable to get his voice to work.
"Yes?" Elwin turned around, and his shoulders fell. "You really should listen to me."
Fitz nodded.
"Come on," he waved for Fitz to come over as he walked toward one of the beds. "I see you already grabbed your bag."
He nodded again.
Elwin wrote something down and handed Fitz a bottle. "Drink."
Fitz listened, immediately feeling his nerves release their grip on him.
"See," Elwin said, "you should listen to me."
"I know." Fitz cringed at how pathetic it sounded. It was obvious he was ready to break down, and he didn't even have a good justification.
Psycho.
Elwin looked him over. "Hey."
Fitz didn't look at him, instead he focused his attention on a loose thread on his uniform.
"Do you want to stay here for a bit?"
Fitz looked up and sighed. He wanted to, but he knew he shouldn't. Elwin had better things to worry about than his drama.
Before he could refuse, Elwin stood up and grabbed a pillow and a blanket. "Lie down for a bit."
"I don't-"
"Fitz." His tone was calm, but firm.
Fitz didn't argue, he pulled the blanket over himself, and drifted off to sleep.