Work Text:
2019
It all started going wrong after this most recent tour, entitled "The Hero Tour". At least, in Sonny's mind, because for him, his world seemed to crumple in on itself as all he'd known for most of his life had become corrupted.
It really all began during a meet and greet in Poland. But no one thought anything of it. A girl with a Russian accent and pastel pink hair that fell in front of her pale face approached the five boys and that's when harm struck Sonny's skull like he'd never felt before. The best way to compare it was like the forces inside his mind were pushing in every direction against the walls. He was excused from the rest of the night and slept it all away in his hotel room, watched over by a concerned bandmate, either being Andy or Rye, depending on which shift it was.
He was completely find the next day. However, the symptoms continued, dialed back after that first day on tour, and only progressed. He experience migraines more often than usual, minor at first. Andy convinced the boy he was dehydrated. Gotta drink enough water to compensate for all the madness the boy causes to the world around him. However, drinking up to a hundred and fifty ounces a day did little to sooth the hammers going at it on his skull. In fact, the headaches were only getting worse as the days progressed.
Sonny, Rye, and Brooklyn were all running around like wild lions, letting out screams appropriate to the comparison. All were shirtless and Brooklyn also lacked pants. None of this unusual. Andy and Jack watched from the sidelines, egging them on with various comments. While the two animals continued their chaotic run, Sonny had paused. At first, it appeared as though he was simply catching his breath, his hands on his knees and the shaky breaths coming from his mouth. "You look like Andy the asthmatic after he walks a block," Rye teased.
When the Essex boy collapsed to the ground that day, crying out in agony as his hands gripped his head, they decided a doctors appointment was in order. "Sonny? God, this is getting out of hand," Jack commented with a worried look on his face. Brooklyn was rubbing comforting circles around Sonny's back, as it was the most he could really offer the suffering boy at the moment.
"It's so bad. It hurts so much," Sonny hissed out, squeezing his eyes shut. The best they could do was ring for an ambulance, which swiftly took the agony endured boy to a hospital. A brain scan was taken and all the doctor could take note of was the immense stress his mind was under. That was all the picture showed.
Like the last time, once Sonny awoke from the anesthetics he was administered, he was in no pain whatsoever. It was as if the sleep gave his mind time to expel all the pain, almost like a reset.
The doctor advised on less requirements for the boy. Maybe the ease of pressure would end the headaches. They didn't, not completely, and if anything, it only drove Sonny closer to the brink of insanity.
Sonny was bored all the time. Everything about the band was his world and constantly being told "Sit this one out" because "You've recorded enough for today. Get some sleep" was like telling a kid no more chocolate covered caramels after he had one and there's still fifty three sweets sitting in the glass bowl on the coffee table. But he hadn't had an episode in a little under three weeks now, so the boys saw it as a win even if his headaches weren't gone completely.
"I'm going stir crazy, Andrew," Sonny whined, looking at his blonde friend on an upside down angle while he hung his head off the end of the bed. "I know for certain I have a scene Conner still wants to film. Please, may I meet the rest of the lads where they are already at work and join in?"
"You're not in agonizing pain. How about we keep it that way, you freak. I let you stay out late last night recording with the rest of the band under the precondition that you would take today as a rest day." Sonny knew making that deal would bite him in the butt. But he had been fully banking on it slipping everyone's minds. He was wrong. "If I'm waiting to get all my filming done until tomorrow, so are you."
"You're only waiting because you want to babysit me," Sonny argued as he watched Andy exit his room, leaving the curly haired boy to his devices and his boredom.
"I'm walking to the hallway, mate. I can't hear you." Andy's voice echoed back to his room.
"You're ruining my life." Sonny let out an exasperated sigh following his sentence, to which he most definitely received an off camera eye roll for his dramatics.
"You're ruining my life, Dad!" Andy mocked in return, imitating one of an angsts teenager. It was a tactic used often by the boy because he knew Sonny in his teenage years and with the all black clothes plus multiple face piercings, he was most definitely a bit of an emo. Ironic considering Sonny's most worn article of clothing these days is a pink, fuzzy, oversized hoodie.
Sonny mindlessly scrolled through Instagram, liking various band appreciating photos that he was tagged in, when his thumb paused above something that made his stomach drop. It was another one of those comparison posts about him and his predecessor, Mikey Cobban. "Mikey was a bass. He added so much to the band. Sonny brings a stupid face and previous relations with Andy to the band. How does that compare?" it read.
Reading hate was something never advised. It always messes with your mind. But he couldn't stop. He became so absorbed in the negative comments spitballing at him. Right as he felt the waterworks in the process of developing from the hurt he felt, a pain sprung out that was worse than a broken heart. What came as a surprise was how much worse this episode was compared to the previous two times his headaches were at their peak.
Sonny was intent on waiting this out. But his breath was taken away the moment his eyes scanned the room. He was surrounded by something unreal. Practically everything in the room from the dresser to his shoes, were floating at various heights in the air. Each one had a crimson glow glazing over the object. He didn't get much time to analyze what was happening because the headache quickly directed all thought to it. He did what he felt was his only option and called for the one other person in the house.
Andy could tell by the strain in the voice uttering his name that Sonny was struggling once more. How? They'd been monitoring the boy so carefully as to prevent any stress induced discomfort. This would have to be solved. But first, he must deal with the boy. He had expected to see his long time friend with his knees to his chest and his tormented head in his hands. There was no way for him to have anticipated such an unrealistic state that the bedroom was currently in.
In Andy's line of sight the moment he appeared in the doorway was the same crimson tinted set. However, being an outside party, Andy saw the full picture. What Sonny couldn't possibly notice, but Andy very easily saw, was the red ring that covered his normally hazel irises, the same color each hovering object was glazed with.
"Andy? Oh god. I don't know what's happening, Andy. I don't know what's happening," Sonny cried out after hearing a string of curses flooding out of the blonde's mouth that let him know he was no longer alone. There was pure terror in his voice and Andy wished he knew what to do to put Sonny at ease.
"Sonny, I need you to focus on me. I'm coming over to you now." Andy narrated as he stepped around the various flying objects, dodging rings and books swirling the room. His only idea was to treat this as if it was a panic attack, so he went with it. "I'm sitting down in front of you. Follow my breathing. In and out just as I am," he instructed, kneeling in front of the trembling figure and taking the opposite's hands in his own.
"Make it stop, Andy. I can't breathe. It hurts so bad. I don't know what to do," Sonny repeated once more. Tears ran along his cheeks freely. Andy felt just as much fear as the boy possibly causing the havoc. But he was suppressing all this to stay strong for the boy.
"Yes you do. Come on. Look at me and follow my breathing. You aren't alone. We'll get through this together." Sonny did as he was told, showing his crimson eyes once more to Andy and began mimicking the steady breaths coming from his friend.
It took a bit of time. But Andy was patient the entire way, letting the boy falter whenever he did and simply redirecting him back to the breathing method. He didn't let up once until every last object had touched the floor and Sonny's eyes returned to their usual almost green color.
Sonny physically collapsed once he fully regained control. Whatever just happened had taken most of the energy out of him and he was fighting to keep his eyes open. "Please don't tell anyone about this. You can't tell the boys," he begged before breaking down, now terrified of himself. "Oh god, they'll think I'm some sort of freak because I am a freak. I'm a messed up freak."
Andy quickly climbed on the bed and pulled the tired boy towards his lap and wrapping his arms around the boy's chest from behind. "Hey, hey. It's okay. I meant what I said before. We'll get through this together." Something Sonny has said just before ran through his mind and didn't sit right. He pushed the red faced, sobbing boy, out of the hug, cradled his head in his own two hands, and looked at him, his face demanding eye contact. "Look at me. You aren't a freak. Yes, whatever this is makes you different. But it does not make you a messed up freak. You are still just as much Ryan Robertson as you were before today. Got it? I want to hear you agree."
"I'm scared, Andy. What's wrong with me?" Sonny let out through his quivering lip before a new wave of tears fell to his cheeks.
"Oh, Ryan. I don't know. But we'll figure it out. It will be okay, I swear," Andy said as he pulled the curly haired boy back in for another hug, allowing his sleeve to become warm from Sonny's tears.
The sobs quickly settled down as Sonny slipped into the land of dreams. Andy took it upon himself to lean the boy down into his bed and pulled the blanket over his chest that was slowly rising and falling. "Get some sleep," Andy whispered to sleeping boy who couldn't hear him.
. . .
Like clockwork, Sonny's headaches started again. It was the usual ignorable aching in the back that only seemed to progress. To say Andy was nervous to leave Sonny alone or just away from him ever was an understatement. He was more than nervous and rightfully so. Being the only one who was aware of what Sonny had done left him with an internal responsibility to be there for the boy the next time something like that happened.
Of course, as luck would have it, Andy wasn't in the room when he fell into the realm of magic. Could have been worse than being in the kitchen. But the best case would have been him be there on the bed instead of Brooklyn and they most certainly wouldn't have been live on Instagram if this were the best case scenario.
The two Essex boys were doing a mixture messing around and reading the comments sent in by the audience watching their every move on camera approximately three weeks after the last episode. One account, however, was clearly not a fan and simply showed up just to mess with them. A string of hateful sentences were typed in the chat and while Sonny stopped himself from saying them out loud, that didn't mean he was able to not read them.
"A live stream with the least talented members!" one message read, followed quickly by "they probably did this to remind us they're technically still in the band" and "Sonny especially sucks. He can sing like one note and that's it." More continued on, but Sonny stopped reading after the pounding in his skull appeared alongside the pit in his stomach from the sadness.
The groan let out from the boy with his palm against his forehead got Brooklyn's attention. "Another headache, mate? That's rough. If any of you watching get frequent migraines, you'll know what he's going through, poor guy," he commented, rubbing circles into his suffering friend's back.
Fear began to fill Sonny's mind as a familiar pain emerged. "End the stream. Please, end it right now," Sonny said quickly and before Brooklyn could ask why he was so twisted up when these happen on the daily, the curly haired boy screamed for Andy. No matter what room or floor Andy was on, he could've heard the call of his name, it was that loud.
Andy entered and immediately wore a knowing look. "Brook, turn the phone off immediately," he hissed soft enough that the fans viewing the stream couldn't hear him before pulling Sonny out of the frame as a precaution. Brooklyn did as he was told and just in the nick of time. Almost perfectly timed, with the "End" button clicked followed by Sonny opening his eyes with now red irises.
"What the- Sonny? What?" Brooklyn gawked at the sight of the glowing eyes as Sonny let out another cry of pain. He was paralyzed with confusion and simply shifted his view to his mug of water while it lost touch with gravity and levitated in the air, as did many other objects in the room.
"Remember what we did last time. Follow my breathing, focus on my voice. I'm here like I said I would be," Andy said, once more wrapping his two hands around the curly haired boy's. He continued to repeat these instructions until Sonny managed to regain control of himself.
When Sonny finally looked up with his hazel eyes, his face went pale as a sheet as he was met with four other faces, those being Jack, Rye, Robbie, and Blair, staring in from the doorframe. It was no surprise the entire house was concerned by Sonny's agonizing screams. But something in him had just prayed they would be ignored and no one would find out, other than the two already in the room. "No, no, no," Sonny muttered as he began to sob, banging a clenched fist down on the bed.
Three of the newly informed people wore looks of confusion and fear, much like Sonny was afraid they'd be. But Blair didn't seem shaken by what he saw in the slightest. He was giving Sonny a pity look at the most. But none of it was surprise or fear.
Sonny buried his face in Andy's shoulder, wishing he could hide from everyone at that moment. "I'm a freak. Now they know." His words were muffled by the fabric against his lips. But the resentment was crystal clear. It didn't take long before he was unable to stay conscious and passed out, his head rested on Andy's shoulder.
"We'll discuss this more when he wakes up. For now, let him sleep," Blair said in a hushed voice as to not wake the sleeping boy. It was a bit strange how calm he seemed about walking in on his client having a supernatural panic attack. But the boys just assumed he was suppressing all his shock for their benefit.
Sonny awoke about two hours later, feeling recharged. It was only until he walked into the quiet living room and faced all the worried glances he remembered exactly what went down prior to his rest.
Blair was the first to speak, putting a hand on the young man's back, prepared to guide him to another room. "Sonny. I'd like to speak with you in private, mate."
Sonny shook his head rapidly, a nervous look entering his eyes. "Whatever you need to say to me, say in front of all of us." He wasn't about to go through some sort persecution for being a witch without at least Andy behind him. He deserved a lawyer if this were a fair justice system, though the realm of magic they had entered was considered outside the logical justice system.
"I think it's best if we don't discuss this with everyone, first," Blair argued. But Sonny remained set in his stance. With a defeated sigh, the manager gives in to the demands. "Let's at least take a seat on the couch, everyone. Shall we?"
Once everyone was seated, legs shaking from anticipation, Blair began. "This is going to be a lot to take in. Stop me if you need a moment. Your father is like you- and by your father, I mean your birth father. He was an angry man-"
"If you want to put it lightly. Angry is an understatement," Sonny cut in. At the mention of the man, Sonny's face had darkened. Being compared to someone like that was rather offensive.
"Let me continue. This power inside you feeds off emotions and in turn, intensifies them when active. It's a back and forth thing. Anger and sadness tend to be the leading causes for people to act irrationally or more extreme than they would if level headed. Without a control on it, the power can consume you with anger whenever you feel it even slightly and he never gained control."
"So my psychotic father was psychotic because he had telekinetic witch powers?" Sonny said, rather bluntly. "Did my mom tell you this? How do you know about all this? Are my sisters witches, too?"
"I wouldn't say I was a friend of your father's. But I knew him- I knew of him. She was worried about-" Blair began to answer the questions thrown at him by the curly haired boy. But he was abruptly cut off when the boy completely stormed out the door, mumbling something about needing to be alone. Jack completely ignored the concept and chased after him, despite the other boys saying to give him time.
Jack found Sonny propped up against a tree far in their backyard. He was staring at the sky, content with how the clouds slowly made their way through the blue playing field. "I was young, so most of it I don't remember. But I know he hurt me a lot, physically. I have a couple of scars that have never gone away," Sonny said when he heard the grass crinkle beside him. "You know, I got my nose broken by a flowerpot when he was in one of his moods, once. This happened when I was almost five. He didn't throw it. The thing wasn't even near him. But when I told this to my mother after waking up in the hospital, she told me it was just my imagination. I never really had a wild imagination when I was younger, though. Never had imaginary friends and I never liked playing make believe. Just wasn't who I was."
Jack was silent as he took a place on the grass next to Sonny, fixing his eyes on the same cloud. He left room for Sonny to continue speaking, knowing there was more. "This is all so messed up. This is fake. There's no way any of what happened could've actually been possible."
"Are you scared of yourself?" Jack asked, softly.
"Yes," Sonny replies with an unstable voice.
"Well I'm not. Neither is Rye, neither is Brook. Andy certainly isn't. Blair is accustomed to all this for some wack reason. You're my best friend, man. The only thing I'm scared of is you hating yourself. You're different. But you aren't broken." Sonny kept his head fixed at the sky as a few quiet tears glazed over his eyes.
"But what if I am broken? What if I become like my dad, lashing out at everybody and sending someone I care about to the hospital at least once a week until I kill myself?" Sonny snapped back, aggression and pain in his tone.
"But you aren't your father and you aren't broken." Sonny lowered his head down to Jack's shoulder. A hand ran through his dark, curly locks while he took in shaky breaths. The two stayed with their eyes on the sky until Sonny no longer let out occasional sobs.
Blair joined the two a couple of minutes past, excusing Jack from the scene so he could get a word in. "Your mother got in contact with me a couple of months ago. She was relieved to no end when you were back home after Overload had ended. Sure, I was watching out for you. But she was still comforted knowing you were under her roof. However, you were miserable with life in general and she saw that in your eyes. Mikey leaving was convenient. But I was going to put you in no matter what. At least then I could keep an eye out on you."
"Do you know why this started happening all the sudden?" Sonny asked, inquisitive now that he was beginning to cope with all the knowledge he'd been granted.
"I'm not an expert. I don't think anyone is. But I think your DNA reacted to certain metals and that's what started the reaction in you. Probably a piece of jewelry someone wore during a meet and greet that you touched. Your father told me once that his started after he touched a osmium bracelet worn by a Russian girl he dated in college."
"Am I going to go crazy like him?" Sonny's interest was directed to his nails as he nervously picked them. Worry filled him as he waited for Blair's almost immediate answer.
"Most definitely not. Your father had a darkness inside him outside of his abilities. They may have intensified his evil. But it was preexisting. You aren't anywhere near that. You aren't a bad person, Sonny. You have too much good in that heart of yours to ever hurt someone. And anyway, I'm going to train you." This got his attention peeled away from his nails.
"Do you have powers, too?" Sonny asked, now more at ease.
"No. But I am knowledgeable and knowledge holds the most power," Blair gloated, a look of pride on his face.
"So, you're like Tony Stark training Peter Parker- cause Stark doesn't have powers and Peter does-"
Blair rolled his eyes, quickly cutting Sonny off. "I got the reference. God, how old do you think I am?"
"Old enough," Sonny said with a smirk. "What about Sharna? Is she like me?" His father had passed before Lauren was even born, so her having the same abilities was out of the question. But the thought of his older sister going through what he is currently struggling with made his heart hurt.
"She's got no powers. She had an encounter about two years ago with osmium and she didn't show any signs of consistent headaches. Gave your mother a heart attack anytime she felt the slightest bit ill, though," Blair laughed and Sonny joined, easily imagining his mum acting like this.
"Will I really be okay?"
"I promise." Sonny let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in as he finally believed what everyone else was saying. Normal was no longer something the boy knew. Whatever his mind could do, it would take some time to figure out. But he wouldn't be his father. He had people to make sure of that.