Disclaimer: I don't own The Gifted.

A/N: I love this show so much and I love John and Marcos and Lorna, and I love the Mutant Underground. And I like writing about my little butterfly-winged, fire-starting OC kiddo, Riley. So I wanted to write a fic about when she was found and rescued by those three, and how John goes about slowly winning her trust. It's multichaptered, so yay?

Trust Fall

Chapter 1

John shoved his hands deeper into his pockets as he sat in the back of the tent, reluctantly watching as mutants were paraded out onto a rough stage. Beneath the strong smell of sawdust and crushed grass, there was a faint but lingering stench on the tent canvas of rotten food, stale blood, and tears. He wanted to get out, to leave, but there was a very important reason for him to stay.

"This is our lovely yet deadly Sepsis, queen of poisons, a new goddess of death for the future," the announcer was saying dramatically, gesturing to the green-skinned young woman onstage. She couldn't have been more than eighteen. Bright blue liquid dripped from her hands and onto the stage, where it sizzled and scored the cheap wood. "Destruction at her fingertips, chaos on her lips."

Sage had heard that there was a sideshow making its way around Georgia that featured people with physical mutations. It wasn't unheard of, and some mutants found that was an easy way to make money even though it was degrading. But Sage had mentioned that this sideshow had a few kids in it, which meant that John, Marcos, and Lorna had been determined to investigate. Sage had tracked it down to this small town not too far outside of Atlanta, and so they had gone to check it out, leaving HQ in Sage and Shatter's hands.

"This is disgusting," hissed Lorna, her hands twitching in her lap, making gestures that told him she was seconds away from using her powers. But Marcos reached over and wrapped his hand around one of hers, stilling her.

"Yeah, but we have to wait." If they rushed in now, it would cause a panic and the police would get called sooner rather than later, and they might not be able to rescue as many people. Not to mention that maybe some of the mutants here actually wanted to be here. They didn't have enough information yet. But John definitely agreed with her. Seeing humans use mutants like this, as sideshow entertainment…

The green-skinned girl finished her display and then slunk out, her shoulders drooping, her face a blank mask. "We'll come back tonight," John said firmly, "I saw where their trailers are." Back behind the county fairgrounds there were campers and RVs and trailers, which was doubtlessly where all the mutants from this sideshow were staying.

Sideshows like this weren't entirely legal, so they were a quiet, secret part of fairs and circuses these days. Authorities who actually found out were sometimes willing to look away since the 'performers' were mutants, or they could be paid to keep quiet. Of course, there were cops that would put a stop to it, but the sideshows skipped towns like that or ran out when the cops were called. They followed the fairs, but they weren't part of them. The sideshows were more like tagalongs.

On stage, the announcer was hyping up the next "act" while two mutants brought in a big leather trunk. John focused on it and immediately buried his fingers into the makeshift bench beneath him, audibly cracking the wood.

"What?" Lorna demanded, whipping her head toward him. "What's wrong?"

John shook his head, knowing that if he said it, she might launch herself out of the tiny audience and onto the stage. As it was, he was doing his best to keep himself in his seat. "Just. Don't make a move yet."

"John…"

He shook his head again, his eyes not leaving that leather trunk. He saw the tiny air holes, heard the rapid breathing, the jackrabbit heartbeat, fingernails scrabbling over cloth. Someone was going to pay for this.

The announcer was talking again, and John had to force himself to pull his attention from the trunk.

"In the Amazon jungle, there is a legend of an enormous butterfly. A benevolent forest spirit, one might say, this creature is said to be the size of a human child, its massive wings capable of stirring up the rain and bringing the storm."

John was going to show him a storm, one the size of a fist. The trunk rattled, and around them, people whispered and leaned forward in anticipation. John was the only one who could hear the whimpers coming from inside the box.

"But until recently, no one had ever caught a specimen so it was considered to be just another native myth. Now, though, we now better."

The announcer unhooked a latched and threw the lid back, and John's hand snapped out to grab Lorna's wrist as her hand started to come up. "Wait."

"Let go. I'm going to rip the fillings out of his teeth and put them through his eyes—"

"Not yet," John said, but he was right there with her on the sentiment. On Lorna's other side, Marcos clenched his hands, but he didn't make a move for the stage. They had to stay calm, if they didn't handle this correctly, it could go south very quickly.

The little girl in the trunk stood up, her huge wings unfurling and spreading out behind her before she brought them forward, covering her face. The announcer picked her up and put her down outside of the trunk. Slowly her wings peeled back, giving the audience a better look at her.

She was tiny, so small, and he could hear her panic, her pounding heart. Her skin was light purple, like faded lavender, but her wings looked exactly like a Monarch butterfly if that butterfly happened to be bright pink instead of orange. Her hair was black but streaked with the same pink color as her wings. Her dark brown eyes were huge as she did a turn when the announcer gestured to her.

"As you can see, the myth was wrong. She's not just child-sized, she is indeed a child." He put a hand on the girl's shoulder and she immediately ducked away, moving out of his reach. The announcer frowned and when he grabbed her this time, she winced and tears welled up in her eyes.

Every muscle in John's body tensed. Hell.

Screw it.

"Nevermind, do it, Lorna," John said, letting go of her wrist and standing up. He startled the small audience as he walked down the flimsy bleachers and stepped up onto the stage. They must have thought he was part of the act, but the announcer was flustered.

"Hey, you can't be up here," he said, yanking on the girl's arm, getting a whimper out of her. A second later, the announcer's own arm was broken in two places and he was on the floor, pinned down by the metal from the trunk that the kid had been locked in.

The girl's wings came up again, hiding her, as the audience members fled, yelling about crazed mutants and being attacked. They didn't have much time, but John didn't regret it. They could move fast.

Lorna and Marcos were already heading toward him, Lorna's hands outstretched as she controlled the metal keeping the announcer trapped. She flicked her wrists and he zoomed through the tent flap, dragged by the metal wrapped around him. Marcos' attention was on the mutants who were coming out from behind the stage.

They could handle it and get together whoever wanted to get out of this hell hole.

John knelt down in front of the little girl, hoping he didn't look scary even though he had just broken that guy's arm. "Hey there," he said gently, "I'm John. What's your name?"

After a long moment, one wing dropped just a little, enough to show those big brown eyes. She shook her head.

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me right now," he said, and he held a hand out to her, "Do you want to leave here?"

She looked at his hand then up at him before her eyes flicked to the gouge marks in the stage where the announcer had been pinned down.

He kept holding his hand out, patient, not rushing her. "I promise I won't hurt you. I only hurt bad guys."

Tentatively, she put her hand in his, her fingers barely touching his palm. She froze for a second as if expecting him to grab her, but when he stayed still, she actually wrapped her fingers around his and stepped toward him, her wings still partially covering her.

John gave her hand a light squeeze. "Let's get you out of here."