When Aron had stabbed Joe, he had done so with two things clearly in mind. First, that Joe could easily be saved from the wound, and second, that it wouldn’t cause permanent damage to the point where it would affect his fighting in the future.
Aron’s intention was only to make Joe feel real fear, the kind of sudden, agonizing shock that might finally trigger his power. Aron himself remembered when he used to feel real fear; in his own brutal training, he had been stabbed a few times and had even worse things happen.
The thing was, everyone’s reaction to certain stimuli was different, and now Aron felt like he had done something drastically, irrevocably wrong.
"I apologize, all of this was my mishap! I went too far!" Aron said, dropping onto his knees with his head bowed to Max. The gesture was dramatic, but utterly sincere.
"This is not your fault," Max corrected him, his voice tired but firm. "This is mine. I was the one that told you to go that far. I was the one that told you to push him. Because if we want him to actually make it out there in the world we’re building, we have to push him to this limit."
"But do we have to?" Stephen interjected, his voice heavy with concern for his friend. "The rest of us have already achieved our Vows. Joe’s training was coming along well, he will continue to get stronger, and he can still help the group in other ways."
Stephen paused, his gaze hardening as he looked at Max. "From the way you’re speaking and the way you’re putting him through this, Max, it’s almost as if you’re saying if he can’t get through this, then he’s out of the gang completely."
Max’s silence spoke many, heavy words, but he did eventually speak up, his tone softening with genuine emotion.
"Joe was one of the first members of the group. Although him joining was mostly an accident, and yes, he has done some terrible things, I do now consider him a close ally. A real friend."
Max looked away, his jaw clenching. "And it’s because of that, because of what we will soon be doing, that I know dangerous things are coming ahead. In this life, we have already seen those close to us die. I can go to your funerals, I can send some gifts and make sure your family is okay. I can do that for a lot of you. But there are those I don’t ever want to do that for again. Joe is one of them."
Max met Stephen’s gaze directly. "That’s why I want him to get through this, or I don’t want to be turning up at his funeral."
For the others, like Stephen, who had been in the Bloodline group for a while, the words hit hard. He realized that even though Max was so young, he had already lost both Jay and Abby. That immense loss must have affected him more profoundly than they realized. No matter how mature Max seemed, this wasn’t something even most adults could handle.
The group decided they needed to search for Joe, to at least know he was okay. They searched around for him inside the facility because, based on the security cameras, he hadn’t left the building.
Eventually, there was one person who had found him: Wolf. He was right at the very top floor, out on the roof, looking out at the sprawling city lights below.
"I know it hurts a lot, kid," Wolf said, approaching slowly. "But you don’t have to jump to get rid of the pain. I know plenty of ways to numb it all without that."
Joe turned around. He managed a half-smile, though it was difficult since his mouth was busted up and swollen.
"I didn’t expect you to find me of all people," Joe admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I’m not planning to jump... my mind is just full at the moment."
"Hey, you shouldn’t beat yourself up over everything that’s happening, you know?" Wolf said, stepping closer. "If I got stabbed like that, I wouldn’t want to go back up against that maniac again either. I like fighting, but I’ll tell you now, I don’t want to fight that guy. But I can see you have a lot of responsibility on your shoulders. You still want to help Max and be a part of all of this, right?"
There was a long pause as Joe looked out at the glittering, uncaring city. Then, he finally answered.
"I’ve been trying to fill his shoes, but I don’t think I’m good enough," Joe confessed, the shame clear in his voice. "I keep thinking: If Jay was here, would he have been able to unlock this power by now? You know, Jay... he played a huge part in the Billion Bloodline group."
He winced, both physically and emotionally. "When he passed, I tried to take over his role. People came up to me asking for help, how to deal with their problems, but I could never deal with them like Jay could. And then I think back to that moment, the moment Jay had pushed Max out of the way and got hit by the car. I wonder if I would be able to do that... and to be honest, I don’t think I can. I’m not as good as Jay, and I never will be. He should be the one here, not me."
"You’re thinking a lot of useless things, I see," Wolf commented, utterly dismissive of Joe’s comparison. "But it’s normal at your age. Why are you comparing yourself to someone who is dead?"
Wolf stepped right beside him, leaning against the rooftop railing. "And I mean that, honestly. You are a person who thinks far too much. I think that’s your downfall. Maybe you don’t fear that Aron will kill you because you know he can’t, and you’re probably right about that."
Wolf turned to face Joe, his expression intense. "But the truth is, didn’t Jay die? Didn’t Abby die as well? Two people you know have died, and that is real. Why don’t you use your thoughts, the fear of losing your friends, and turn that into fear for yourself when you go up against Aron... because that’s very real. Those two people have died. If you want to do something, then stay alive... and kick some arse."