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Apr. 24th, 2016 09:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runningredJay threw himself into the corner of the cell, pressing his back against the walls to make himself as secure as possible. Walls at his back meant no attack from behind, only in front and above. He knew, somewhere deep down that he was safe, that nothing could get at him inside the Baby but the rest of his mind was lost to the flood of Ivy’s pollen and Crane’s fear serum.
The nightmares started crowding in on him almost soon as the needle had touched his neck but he’d pushed them down, pushed them back for as long as he could. Every meditation technique, every scrap of self-control, every ounce of waning strength had got him here but now there was nothing left. No reserve.
The drug sped up his heart, sending the rush of fear and adrenaline through his whole mind. The images flashed and overlapped but not just images, the fear pervaded his senses, making everything realer than real.
***
His parents screaming at each other as he hid under the table. The wet, meaty smack as his father’s fist connected with his mother’s face. Her screams of fury and pain.
***
His first nights on the streets – hungry, alone and frightened. The older kids circling him the way hungry dogs circle a rat.
***
The first john pushing him onto his knees and using his mouth. Gagging and choking as the man laugh and told him to get use to it. The bitter taste of bile as he scrambled for the worn notes dropped at his feet as they blew away in Gotham’s harsh winter wind.
***
He smacked the back of his head against the wall, driving his nails into the palms of his hands. Desperate to keep a connection to the here and now. Trying to keep from drowning in his own memories.
But Crane’s serum was too strong, breaking past the wall of bitter memory into and into darkest fears.
***
Sherral gripping his arm, holding the wrist mounted blade against his chest. His handsome face half burned and his eyes dark with mist-poisoning. “Kill me. Kill me fast.” Sherral’s accent thicker in his pain and panic, “You gave the bandit a quick death. Why won’t you give me that?” His hands tightening around the mechanism under Jay’s sleeve, trying to trigger it. “Jay, kill me!”
He felt himself jerking against the wall with the spring of the blade, feeling the hot wet of Sherral’s life blood on his hands. He sobbed, hearing Sherral’s last breath sigh across his cheek, cooling his tears. It was his fault, his failure that had gotten Sherral killed and now he had finish the job. His shoulder jerked again as the blade retracted with a click, blood rushing down Jay’s palm.
***
He fell forward, his hands bound as the Joker stood over Tim, the crowbar in his hands. Cold steel and hot blood. And Jay powerless to stop it, force to watch another Robin die at the hands of that monster. Tim’s face, Tim’s voice, begging for help, for rescue. And Jay’s screaming in return, begging for forgiveness for not ending this before it had begun.
***
The inside of his own coffin, darkness and panic. The taste of copper as his knuckles split, trying to punch his way out. Grave dirt, suffocating and heavy as his lungs clenched. Not enough air. Nowhere near enough air. Ribs popping and cracking as he dragged his body upward. He was going to die. Again. No-one would find him. No-one was coming. Too dark to see the grey edges of his vision as he began to black out, grave dirt in his mouth, his lungs. Dying. Again.
***
On the floor of the cell Jay contorted, his body twisted and brutalised by the visions tearing him apart from within. Forced to face the worst parts of himself, Jay’s muscles drag him through every moment, every madness.
**
Charles in the corner of a padded cell, cowering away from Jay even as Jay tries to reach for him. Charles had offered Jay help, peace, a path but the horrors of Jay’s past, the darkness within had overwhelmed him. Charles’ eyes red, his face torn where he had tried to claw out the madness Jay had given him.
***
Jemma smiling, a syringe in her hand. Whispering that she could fix it, that she could save them all. And Jay had given her the key.
A single drop of poison dripping from the end of the needle and smoking where it landed. Her laugh, brutal and wrong. Her eyes the green of Ivy and glowing with a fire too bright to be human.
“You told me there was monsters, Jay. And I know now. I know monsters are real. And only monsters can fight monsters. You showed me that.” The needle breaking his skin as the poisons searing his blood. “But I can make you better, I can make you a monster too, more than you already are.” Feeling his skin tighten and tear as he became something-
And Jemma laughing. And laughing.
***
Laying on the ground, his neck and wrists ripped open and flowing. Flowing black and wrong. Eric standing over him, rabid and wild, his mouth burning with the poison from Jay’s veins.
And then burning, bright as dawn as Rae came at them. Glowing like a goddess and writhed in her fire of sunshine, she bears down on Eric. Jay can’t lift a hand – too weak, too drained to warn Eric, to beg Rae to stop. Eric burning, screaming and Rae just watching him burn with so wrong smile.
Too weak to stop it, his voice too broken to call out as Pam came up behind Rae, ripping her throat out. Rae’s blood showering them both, making the unearthly fire consuming Eric crackle and splutter but too late. It’s all too late.
***
Emcee in his arms, brittle and thin beyond endurance. His body desecrated with scars, with cuts surgical and clean. They experimented on him before they gassed him, seeking the source of his deviant nature. Those smoky eyes turned milky and sunken. Jay ripping at the grey and white striped clothes, scrubbing at the numbers tattooed across his wrist, trying to get their marks off him.
***
Autor dead on a battle field, a bayonet though his chest. Those nimble hands torn on the blade that pieced him. Bright, intelligent eyes dull and flat as the flies buzzed around his still lips.
***
Selena, young smart little Cat being pushed to her knees by a john. The way she scrambles for the worn notes dropped at her feet as they started to blow away by Gotham’s harsh winter wind. Driven to the desperation Jay prayed she would never have to suffer. And Jay, powerless to help her.
***
A new world, a new start. The drones settled and happy, rebuilding their civilisation. The babies Jay helped to give life to scampering in and out of tall clutches of flowers like they’d never seen the sun.
The drones, lifeless and dead. Their shells cracked open and innards scattered in the wind. Their new world ruined and scorched by whatever holocaust had followed them there.
***
Bonnie destitute, drunk in the gutter. All hope lost with her still born child.
***
Ragnar’s body tangled around the steel of his bike, gasoline and blood mixing as they spilt.
***
Mark gunned down as bandits attack the ranch. William screaming in murderous rage.
***
The visions came faster, more broken, more terrible.
Everyone he knew, everyone he loved, dead at his feet. His hands slick with gore as he tore them apart with his own hands.
Everyone he knew, everyone he loved, dead at his feet. And worse – dead because he failed them. He killed them. His hands slick with gore as he tore them apart with his own hands.
Because of who he was deep down. Because of what he was.
A monster in human skin. Something wrong and damaged. Dragged back from the dead to spread darkens and destruction.
Just like the Joker.
He slammed himself against the walls of the cell, over and over, trying to break the cycle of rage and horror though pain. Fingernails clawing his flesh to keep from drowning in his own mind.
Seconds bled into each other. Hours dragged and dragged.
Two days before the torrent of violent hallucinations ebbed to a trickle and finally stopped.
Leaving Jay broken and weak, a battered bird at the bottom of his cage.
The nightmares started crowding in on him almost soon as the needle had touched his neck but he’d pushed them down, pushed them back for as long as he could. Every meditation technique, every scrap of self-control, every ounce of waning strength had got him here but now there was nothing left. No reserve.
The drug sped up his heart, sending the rush of fear and adrenaline through his whole mind. The images flashed and overlapped but not just images, the fear pervaded his senses, making everything realer than real.
***
His parents screaming at each other as he hid under the table. The wet, meaty smack as his father’s fist connected with his mother’s face. Her screams of fury and pain.
***
His first nights on the streets – hungry, alone and frightened. The older kids circling him the way hungry dogs circle a rat.
***
The first john pushing him onto his knees and using his mouth. Gagging and choking as the man laugh and told him to get use to it. The bitter taste of bile as he scrambled for the worn notes dropped at his feet as they blew away in Gotham’s harsh winter wind.
***
He smacked the back of his head against the wall, driving his nails into the palms of his hands. Desperate to keep a connection to the here and now. Trying to keep from drowning in his own memories.
But Crane’s serum was too strong, breaking past the wall of bitter memory into and into darkest fears.
***
Sherral gripping his arm, holding the wrist mounted blade against his chest. His handsome face half burned and his eyes dark with mist-poisoning. “Kill me. Kill me fast.” Sherral’s accent thicker in his pain and panic, “You gave the bandit a quick death. Why won’t you give me that?” His hands tightening around the mechanism under Jay’s sleeve, trying to trigger it. “Jay, kill me!”
He felt himself jerking against the wall with the spring of the blade, feeling the hot wet of Sherral’s life blood on his hands. He sobbed, hearing Sherral’s last breath sigh across his cheek, cooling his tears. It was his fault, his failure that had gotten Sherral killed and now he had finish the job. His shoulder jerked again as the blade retracted with a click, blood rushing down Jay’s palm.
***
He fell forward, his hands bound as the Joker stood over Tim, the crowbar in his hands. Cold steel and hot blood. And Jay powerless to stop it, force to watch another Robin die at the hands of that monster. Tim’s face, Tim’s voice, begging for help, for rescue. And Jay’s screaming in return, begging for forgiveness for not ending this before it had begun.
***
The inside of his own coffin, darkness and panic. The taste of copper as his knuckles split, trying to punch his way out. Grave dirt, suffocating and heavy as his lungs clenched. Not enough air. Nowhere near enough air. Ribs popping and cracking as he dragged his body upward. He was going to die. Again. No-one would find him. No-one was coming. Too dark to see the grey edges of his vision as he began to black out, grave dirt in his mouth, his lungs. Dying. Again.
***
On the floor of the cell Jay contorted, his body twisted and brutalised by the visions tearing him apart from within. Forced to face the worst parts of himself, Jay’s muscles drag him through every moment, every madness.
**
Charles in the corner of a padded cell, cowering away from Jay even as Jay tries to reach for him. Charles had offered Jay help, peace, a path but the horrors of Jay’s past, the darkness within had overwhelmed him. Charles’ eyes red, his face torn where he had tried to claw out the madness Jay had given him.
***
Jemma smiling, a syringe in her hand. Whispering that she could fix it, that she could save them all. And Jay had given her the key.
A single drop of poison dripping from the end of the needle and smoking where it landed. Her laugh, brutal and wrong. Her eyes the green of Ivy and glowing with a fire too bright to be human.
“You told me there was monsters, Jay. And I know now. I know monsters are real. And only monsters can fight monsters. You showed me that.” The needle breaking his skin as the poisons searing his blood. “But I can make you better, I can make you a monster too, more than you already are.” Feeling his skin tighten and tear as he became something-
And Jemma laughing. And laughing.
***
Laying on the ground, his neck and wrists ripped open and flowing. Flowing black and wrong. Eric standing over him, rabid and wild, his mouth burning with the poison from Jay’s veins.
And then burning, bright as dawn as Rae came at them. Glowing like a goddess and writhed in her fire of sunshine, she bears down on Eric. Jay can’t lift a hand – too weak, too drained to warn Eric, to beg Rae to stop. Eric burning, screaming and Rae just watching him burn with so wrong smile.
Too weak to stop it, his voice too broken to call out as Pam came up behind Rae, ripping her throat out. Rae’s blood showering them both, making the unearthly fire consuming Eric crackle and splutter but too late. It’s all too late.
***
Emcee in his arms, brittle and thin beyond endurance. His body desecrated with scars, with cuts surgical and clean. They experimented on him before they gassed him, seeking the source of his deviant nature. Those smoky eyes turned milky and sunken. Jay ripping at the grey and white striped clothes, scrubbing at the numbers tattooed across his wrist, trying to get their marks off him.
***
Autor dead on a battle field, a bayonet though his chest. Those nimble hands torn on the blade that pieced him. Bright, intelligent eyes dull and flat as the flies buzzed around his still lips.
***
Selena, young smart little Cat being pushed to her knees by a john. The way she scrambles for the worn notes dropped at her feet as they started to blow away by Gotham’s harsh winter wind. Driven to the desperation Jay prayed she would never have to suffer. And Jay, powerless to help her.
***
A new world, a new start. The drones settled and happy, rebuilding their civilisation. The babies Jay helped to give life to scampering in and out of tall clutches of flowers like they’d never seen the sun.
The drones, lifeless and dead. Their shells cracked open and innards scattered in the wind. Their new world ruined and scorched by whatever holocaust had followed them there.
***
Bonnie destitute, drunk in the gutter. All hope lost with her still born child.
***
Ragnar’s body tangled around the steel of his bike, gasoline and blood mixing as they spilt.
***
Mark gunned down as bandits attack the ranch. William screaming in murderous rage.
***
The visions came faster, more broken, more terrible.
Everyone he knew, everyone he loved, dead at his feet. His hands slick with gore as he tore them apart with his own hands.
Everyone he knew, everyone he loved, dead at his feet. And worse – dead because he failed them. He killed them. His hands slick with gore as he tore them apart with his own hands.
Because of who he was deep down. Because of what he was.
A monster in human skin. Something wrong and damaged. Dragged back from the dead to spread darkens and destruction.
Just like the Joker.
He slammed himself against the walls of the cell, over and over, trying to break the cycle of rage and horror though pain. Fingernails clawing his flesh to keep from drowning in his own mind.
Seconds bled into each other. Hours dragged and dragged.
Two days before the torrent of violent hallucinations ebbed to a trickle and finally stopped.
Leaving Jay broken and weak, a battered bird at the bottom of his cage.
