So I haven't finished it yet but OMG I just adore LORD OF THE FLIES!

I totally spoiled myself and read ahead in English class!

It's a really good book with a recognizable lesson that people tend to stray away from.

And as I searched the net, I was delighted to find that the book actually has a fandom!

So my Jack x Ralph shipping was born!

P.S. I gave the new characters and the old ones last names cause, well, I felt it would be a nice touch to the story.

"Ralph! Pass the ball!" Johnny Marco shouted, waving his hands like a madman and entering Ralph Ackland's trail. His eyes were wide and his brown hair flew in the wind as he raced down the field alongside the blonde.

The soccer ball jittered from side to side, slipping past Ralph's wet sneakers and squeaking as it was passed to the brunette. Johnny caught it with ease and Ralph was allowed to slow down, his breath coming out raspy and pale. He reached to his collar and flapped it, letting in cool spring air onto his sweaty chest. The sun beat down on his neck like a ton of bricks and he knew he had to keep moving or he would melt. Something red was flickering against the corner of his right eye, and Ralph refused to look over, knowing already who it was.

As he turned his head to the other side, it hit him. Or more like he hit him. Before Ralph could stop running, Roger Paling knocked into him from the side, his elbows digging into the blonde's ribcage, and Ralph toppled onto the ground in shock, the wind having been knocked out of him. His left cheek brushed against the brown soil below him roughly, and his shoulder followed, bumping against a leg. He coughed up dried, cut grass that was stuffed into his mouth from the fall. All around him, boys were shouting and laughing. Two shadows loomed over his fallen body and he turned to his uninjured right side and looked up.

The sky was a lovely hue of blue, the sun like a dangling chandelier. The faces looming in his vision were nightly and beastly, grinning with shining malicious eyes. Their hands were at their waists, their shorts stained with an ugly pine colour and their hands smudge with brown dirt. They were chuckling darkly, and Roger Paling kicked Ralph in the stomach ambiguously.

Jack Merridew just watched.

A whistle blew and all the boys on the soccer field stopped. Ralph was too sore to even lift his head at the signal. But he heard heavy feet shuffling against the ground towards him and the monsters, and the loud, harsh sound of Coach Hilton. Ralph closed his eyes and put a hand to his twisted elbow.

"Paling! Off the field! And I expect you in detention tomorrow at lunch!"

Roger's eyes glared but he shrugged and smiled, casually making his way to the worn out wooden benches at the side. Jack Merridew stood there, his blue eyes looking at the coach innocently. He quickly shot down and grabbed Ralph roughly, "helping" him up. Ralph patted the dirt on his shirt and pulled himself away from Jack, taking a step back. He knew his hair was a total mess now and that he would need to take a long shower at home. Coach Hilton was talking to him.

"Ralph? Are you ok?" he gripped the boy's shoulder and Ralph winced. Hilton let go quickly, as if he had been zapped, then drew his hand back, rubbing gently against the shoulder. "Is it sore? Do you need to go to the nurse's office?"

Ralph nodded, not meeting the coach, or Jack's, eyes. He knew the question that came next and beat Hilton to it.

"I can go there myself. I don't need someone's help. Honest" he added when he saw a look of doubt pass by the coach's face.

"Well…alright then. Take care of yourself though. Can't have you collapse again over my watch."

Ralph nodded and made his way across the field. He knew the boys were watching him go, and some had strained faces. But they looked away quickly and regrouped to decide who would replace Roger and Ralph on both teams. The blonde knew none of them would speak up. He never expected it. This was not the first time an "accident" including Roger and/or Jack had happened to him in Gym class. In fact, this was the fifth one in a whole week. That was a record. He knew Jack, at least, was keeping track, because just before Hilton was in speaking distance, Jack had bent down and breathed "number five, Ralphie," into his ear before letting him go.

The hallways were completely empty. Not even seniors, who tended to skip classes, were bickering and talking next to the fountains and vending machines. Ralph found peace in the hush surrounding him and he rubbed his raw cheek softly, trying to fruitlessly clean off patches of dirt from his oozing wounds that could give him an infection. He learned at least that much during his time on the island.

Ralph reached the nurse's office and there, he asked for a few packs of ice and wet tissues. Taking one look at the dirty boy, the young secretary dashed to the First Aid cabinet inside a disclosed room above the plain bed where Ralph took a seat on. He took the items with a smile and adjusted his aching shoulder so he could slide a few small ice packs under his wet shirt painlessly. The wet towel was used to wipe the remaining dirt of his cheek and, he discovered, his neck, before he placed some band-aids on the cuts underneath. His cheek stung but other than that, he was going to survive. When he saw the dried blood, though, Ralph stomach churned and he felt sick. His mind slipped into harsh memories, which took a year and a half of therapy to suppress. But he knew he would never forget.

Blood on sand. Blood on his hands. And teeth. And nails. Blood on a dead pig. Blood on a rock. Blood everywhere. He remembered the coppery scent, the salty taste. He had almost bit his tongue off during the hunt against him. Back in civilization, he needed stitches to fix what his ravaged teeth had done.

Ralph put a hand to his stomach and swallowed. He would not give in. Not again. He was all grown up now. He understood what had happened and accepted what he, and the boys, had done. He wasn't 12 and confident, and he wasn't 12 and scared for his life. He was 16 and done with those memories, done with the island. He would always remember his brilliant Piggy and his righteous Simon but that was it. The tribe, the fire, the dance, Jack Merridew. He wouldn't let himself be hunted, be a prey, like that ever again. That was his promise and after the first times, he was doing a good job.

Ralph still remembered feeling a little annoyed when his worrying parents decided to remove him from his rowdy and "insufficient" neighbourhood and plop him in the preppy and clean St. Calium Catholic Secondary School. Ralph had planned to go to a high school that was only a five-minute walk from his place. But they would not have of that and were convinced being around his faith would help him heal where they couldn't. To this, Ralph only sighed and accepted it, finding the whole ordeal a bit funny at the time. However, as tired as he was, Ralph wasn't expecting to end up, on the first day, in the same homeroom class as Jack Merridew.

At first, he was incredibly shaken at seeing an older version of the one person he knew he would hate for the rest of his life no matter what. Jack had really grown physically. He was tall, much taller then when he and Ralph were on the island, and his red hair was shorter, obviously, but still curled around his ears and chin, strands creating the illusion of bangs sometimes, and was a lighter shade. What freckles remained were placed finely on his nose bridge and where he was ugly and plain as a boy, he looked edgier and more refined now as a teenager. And the many girls he dated over countless days proved his shift.

What didn't seem to change, however, was Jack's ruthless and bossy behaviour. Ralph had visited the Church next to the school many times and he was completely numb, one day, when he saw Jack, in a familiar black outfit, and a group of some of the same choir boys from the island, filing in on the aisle, taking their places in the front of the room and opened their books simultaneously. When they started to sing, Ralph was helplessly brought to tears. Their voices, which he was used to hearing them use in chants around the tribal fire, were majestic and beautiful, bouncing around the room in perfect harmony and pitching perfectly.

When it was Jack's solo, he hit that C sharp like he'd been doing it all his life. Which he probably had. Ralph was just amazed at the high note since he was sure Jack had hit puberty from his low voice when he spoke.

Ralph remained quite in his corner seat, hoping they would continue not to notice him, frozen by the familiar eyes and rough features of boys that had hunted him down.

He just couldn't wrap his mind around it at all. These boys looked clean and kind and their voices were like angels. No one would ever believe that either one of them could even swat a fly. It simply surprised Ralph how much he knew about the boys' true natures. He probably knew them better then their own parents did. And vice versa, of course.

There was a sudden turn of symphony near the end of the song and everyone stopped. Ralph had raised his head and peeked through his blonde bangs. A new boy, short and skinny with long locks of auburn hair, was looking around nervously. The other choirboys were staring at him. He was blushing like mad. Jack put the book in his hands down, walked over to the short boy and slapped him across the face without warning. The sound of skin meeting skin echoed and Ralph flinched as if he had been the one hit.

The kid held his cheek and began to cry. Jack shouted at the child that he was useless if he couldn't sing his part properly and that he was bringing everyone down. Jack's shouts soon subsided and he was talking in a quiet and harsh tone to the little boy. If they were on the island, Ralph knew, Jack would have the child executed right then and there.

None of the others spoke up for the child. The olders ones looked away or watched without expression, and the new ones were too frightened to say anything. Jack, it seemed, was power to them all. Like on the island.

When he was done, Jack looked up and met Ralph's eyes from across the room. At first, they just locked gazes. Then Jack smiled cruelly and winked. And Ralph was out of there, sprinting across the room, knowing full well the other boys had seen and recognized him, and dashed out of the doors, suddenly feeling less safe in the one place that promised sanctuary.

On his first day, Jack didn't even glance in Ralph's direction ever. After the event in the Church, everything changed. Jack knew who he was and acknowledged his lost prey once again.

Soon, the ugly truth about the "pure" school was revealed. Ralph learned that while Jack and his band of choirboys were the ideal fellows that all should be looking up to, they had a much deeper alias. They were, in fact, St. Calium's very own gang of bullies, with Jack Merridew leading them through it all. They terrorized freshman, vandalized buildings around town and threw parties that would have Scandalous magazines knocking at their doors. And they always got away with it, whether through their parents shushing up the city or the school hiding everything.

And the funny thing about it all, it was the same boys, the same biguns that gave the littleuns, Ralph and Piggy a run for their lives. It was the same group of savages that first broke off the boys, the same group of savages that had brought on the feast, the same group of savages that had crushed Piggy, and the same group of savages that had almost killed Ralph. They were back and just as brutal as ever. The island had changed them and not for the better.

Ralph soon became a target for their banter. While they never usually took a regular victim, the blonde was the "special case". Their toy. Not a single one of them seemed bothered by what happened on the island, and didn't regret the dumpster beatings, swirlies, taunts, teases, profanity and stealing homework that they treated Ralph to nearly on a daily bases. No one was as worse, though, as Jack and Roger.

Ralph hissed as the edges of the ice dug into his bruise and he tried to measure the cold properly. He sighed. After being less and less responsive, most of the boys had left him alone. Now, only Roger and Jack were treating him badly. But the others were always bystanders and that was just as worse.

"Ralphie. You ok?"

Ralph jerked back, the forgotten bag of ice sliding down his spine and onto the bed. His eyes locked on red hair first then still blue eyes before it took in the entire condescending face.

Jack was leaning on the doorframe with his arms folded and mouth curled into a little grin. The secretary behind him was talking on the phone, looking away from them. With only one move, Jack could trap Ralph in the small room. But he didn't. He just stared. Ralph wasn't really scared of him anymore, but he still got tense and jittery around the red head. He thought he would never get over the feeling of being a prey to Jack Merridew, and Jack Merridew only.

"I'm fine" Ralph motioned, in, what he hoped, was a neutral voice.

"That's good. Hilton wanted me to check up on you."

Damn you, coach! But he was only being considerate. And he was the only helpful teacher when it came to the bullying. More helpful then every other teacher Jack and Ralph were in class with.

Ralph nodded a little, half expecting Jack to leave. He didn't, just then. He instead observed Ralph's form, from his flailing hair to his crumpled shorts. Ralph was completely helpless, just the way Jack liked him to be.

"Little pig, you should watch where you're going next time."

Ralph shivered outwardly and looked away from the other teenager. Content with the reaction, Jack sneered and left.


Gah! That ended up to be longer then I expected!

Review and tell me what you think of it so far, please!

Criticism is always welcomed!

I will try to update whenever I can!

I have two other stories going and hopefully I can always have time for this!