He only refused orders when the orders were detrimental or over cautious. He was a teenager, his judgement skills weren't always the absolute best, but nine times out of ten, he'd follow orders with his whole heart. But sometimes, he couldn't hear the order over the sound of that pearl in his insides getting plucked. Sometimes, all he could hear or see or smell was someone in pain, someone reaching out for protection.

Someone that sometimes looked and felt alarmingly like himself.

In another world, in another time, his anger for Gloria would be all consuming. His anger at her assault. Her death. The fact that her rapist was just going to get a slap on the wrist before being sent back home to Daddy. His anger would blow up and he'd watch Felipe's body plummet with cold ice in his pale blue eyes. In another world, he would have turned and lashed that anger out at the man who'd let Gloria's rapist almost get away. In another world....

But not this one. Bruce landed heavy behind him and he turned, eyes wide with a mix of pain and anger and agony as he reached out to take handfuls of Bruce's cape in his hands. He shook with it, shaking his head over and over as he tried so hard to process what had just happened.

"I-I just wanted to talk! I ju-...I wanted to yell. I'm so mad, B. I..I wanted to hurt him. Punch him until he knew just how bad he hurt her! But, I got here and he was drinking and I-..oh God..." He pushed away, falling to his knees and barely feeling the sting of the wood against his skin as he retched into the trash bin that smelled like stale alcohol and cigarettes. Nothing came up, his breakfast long since gone, but he trembled like something wanted to come up anyway.

"I tried to catch him. He spooked and stumbled and I tried to grab him but he slipped and..." His back heaved and he gagged hard.