Roguesbang 2014: Don't worry about him, he's armless (2/3)

Jul 04, 2014 00:01

Title:  Don't worry about him, he's armless
Author:
runenklinge
Artist: Funny95
Genre: Action/Drama
Characters: Axel Walker, James Jesse, Hartley Rathaway, David Singh, Leonard Snart, Lisa Snart, Sam Scudder, Marco Mardon, Mick Rory
Pairing(s): David Singh/Hartley Rathaway, Lisa Snart/Sam Scudder (squint and miss)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 14k
Warnings: mention of canon-compliant violence (amputation), swear words
Summary: After the Gorilla attack, the Rogues try to get their lives back together, but none more so than Axel. With his arm missing, trapped in the hospital, he has not a lot to live for. His annoying visitor isn't helping either. Why won't Jesse leave? That is not the father figure he wanted, not that he wanted one. Denial is strong with this one.

Fic link: Ao3 LJ - Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Art link: will follow
Thanks: to my wonderful artist Funny95/Shi_Tenshi who did a wonderful with their fantastic art. Please check out their gallery and more of their works. Also, huge thanks to mein who organized the whole bit and put so much effort into this. Without you, this contest would be so much less than it is. You are amazing and I'm lucky to have found you as a mod.
Author's notes: I know, I know, DCNU? weird, I know, but I had this little plotbunny that wouldn't go away. For a time I was writing three ideas parallel (parallel-y), but realized it wasn't working out, so I settled on the one that had the most words (7k) already and fleshed that out.
I seem to be stuck on a theme with James lately, you'll realize what it is soon...


He was sitting alone in a booth in a café that had survived the recent attack. Incognito, of course. It was ridiculous how much time he'd spent in the costume lately. Someone slipped into the booth to sit opposite him and just as he was about to react and tell them to go away, the words got stuck in his throat.

“Marco, nice to see you.”

James. Immaculately dressed, with a pleasant smile on his face, just as you'd expected to see on the face of someone who was greeting an old friend. Marco didn't trust it one second.

Not after...

“Can I get you something?” a waitress interrupted.

“Cup of espresso, please,” James ordered.

As the waitress walked away to another table, Marco spoke up.

“I don't think I ever saw you witness ordering something that didn't have an ton of sugar crammed inside it somewhere.”

“I seem to have lost the taste,” James replied, “among other things.”

Suddenly the latte macchiato tasted like ash.

“What do you want?”

“Can't I drop by and check how my old friends are doing?”

“Normally yes, but not you. Everything you say has a false bottom. Or two.”

“Why so defensive, Marco? Why so uncomfortable? It's not like you have something to feel bad about..”

The “or do you?” went unspoken, but not unheard.

Okay, it was horrible how they treated him after …. after the hell they went through, but still, everyone had a lot of stuff on their plate. It wasn't his fault that James had felt betrayed. Probably still did.

The waitress brought James' cup and James smiled and thanked her.

When he looked back to Marco, the smile fell off his face.

“It's creepy how you do that,” Marco remarked.

“Not accustomed to mood swings? I thought you'd be an expert regarding that subject. Sunshine one day, thunderstorm the next. Literally.”

“Please don't-”

“Please don't what?”

“Don't do that.”

“Don't do what?”

“Stop playing.”

“Stop playing what?”

“James!” Marco shouted enraged. His hands shook, and a sudden gust of wind slammed the door to the cafe wide open.

“I do believe that's a hint,” James said and got up. “You should watch out, my friend. I feel like there's a storm coming on.”

“Don't mock me, James.”

“Goodbye, Marco. I mean it.”

And then he was gone.

When Axel came to, it was dark outside. He was back in his room, thank god. Not dead. He glanced at his stump and saw red on fresh bandages.

He heard people talking - Jesse and Soledad, who was flirting with Jesse. Well, two could play at this charade.

“Dad,” he said in a whiny voice, and while both turned to face him, Soledad smiled sympathetically and Jesse glared at him.

“You had us worried there,” she said in a hushed, quiet voice. Why did people always use that voice with sick people?

“I know, I'm sorry. Can I talk to my dad, please?”

“Sure, sweetie.” She left the room and closed the door.

“You're an ass,” Jesse announced.

“About time I got back at you.”

Axel felt better, somehow. Like himself again. He may be still in pain, but it was no longer the kind that just sapped his strength away. It felt cleaner, more focused. It felt like properly waking up.

”So, you almost managed to kill yourself. Again.”

“Are you disappointed that it didn't take?”

Jesse quirked an eyebrow. “Welcome back.”

“What?”

“If you're going to play dumb, I'll take it back.”

“No, no, it's alright. I feel like me again, so I guess I'm back. Sorta.”

“Don't expect congratulations.”

“So you didn't bring me a cake. Or one of those ridiculous balloons they sell in hospital gift shops?”

“I regret coming here,” Jesse replied.

“Why did you come?” Axel asked. He would have liked an honest answer, as unlikely as the chance of getting one was.

“Because no one else came.”

“What shit reason is that?” Axel asked, something in his chest tightening and squeezing.

“Apparently a much better reason than anyone else had for coming.”

Axel wanted to lash out, to yell “why do you care?” and to hurl all the pain and loss he felt at James and just scream. But he hesitated for one second and then he saw it. It didn't make sense. It felt wrong. Not the yelling, that felt too right, but James being here and speaking calmly. Sure, Axel was in no shape to play “patty cake”, but he'd expected something - snide remarks, about how stupid he was, not worthy of the name and how James would have done a much better job. But this, this was disturbing. Maybe it was the hospital atmosphere - nothing was ever good in hospitals - but James looked....off.

This whole thing was wrong. And then he had a thought, a tiny terrible thought. But it fit. It would explain it all...

“Are you dying?”

James tensed up, just a bit. “You are the one on the hospital bed and been literally decimated.”

“You haven't said no.”

“Really?”

“Don't give me that. I know when adults are lying to me.” And he did, he just knew when adults came with “you'll understand when you're older”, “not now” and just plainly lied. It was weird, he'd never think James would do that.

James took a long, long look at him, exhaled and it was like he shrank. Like the life left him, he seemed pale and worn down.

“I am dying.”

Axel felt like he had been punched. That explained....some. James - and when had he begun to think of him as James? Probably during the not-hand holding - was dying, he was going on a last tour, so it seemed. Visit friends and family, make arrangements, and in his case- - tie up loose ends. And it explained why he wasn't being malicious and instead uncharacteristically friendly. People change when their days are numbered.

“You're sick?” he guessed.

“Yes, have been for years. And well, I'm so good no one noticed. I kept it hidden, I just went on. But it got worse lately, it's ...progressing. Last month, someone noticed. A colleague asked me if I was alright, I seemed tired.” He smiled and it was so sad, Axel felt that it was wrong to see that smile, it was wrong for that smile to exist there, on James' face. “Do you know that was the first time someone ever asked me if I was alright? All my life I have smiled, pretended I was fine when I wasn't, smiled when I wanted to cry. But I can't, not anymore. People start to read me, and it sucks. That's not how it's supposed to be.”

“How long?” Axel asked with a dry throat.

“Not sure. 2 months, half a year, maybe a full year. Maybe less.”

“There's no cure?”

“I wouldn't be here if there was.” Harsh, but it was the truth and Axel was glad for it.

“Why are you here? You hate me.”

“Oh yes, I do,” James sat up, steepled his fingers together and stared at Axel. It was as if he could see through Axel, see through the mask, his skin and into his innermost core. And it should have been terrifying, but it was cool. “But I have to come to terms that you are what's left of me, what will be left.”

“What?” Axel couldn't believe it.

“You took my name. And you took it away. Today there are people who say 'Trickster' and mean you. And in a few years, people will say 'Trickster' and, in case you haven't managed to die and someone else took my name, there will no doubt that that's you. And when those people hear 'James Jesse', they will respond with 'who?'. I can't stop this process, not for long. And I don't like it, but you are what remains. You, Axel, are my legacy.”

Axel was silent for a bit. There was this bittersweet feeling again: he had approval...but not from someone he liked, but someone who hated his guts. It was a conflicted feeling.

“I don't approve of almost everything you do. I hate how you warped the name, how you stole it. I can't change that. But what I can do, as long as I still am here, is to stop it from getting worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cast-out from the Rogues, missing an arm? You're easy picking for a mad scientist. You want your arm back, I can see it. And you'd be dumb enough to accept the first offer. To get into the hands of some madman who will run experiments, who will torture you, just to be able to go back out and fly. You could be so much worse, and I will stop that.”

Axel hadn't given much thought on how to get his arm back, but there was never the slightest doubt that he would get one back. He knew people. Granted, Jesse was right, mad supervillain people, but they were capable. But he couldn't think of anything he wouldn't give to have his arm back. He supposed that it was a good thing James stuck around, if not someone from LexCorp, then undoubtedly some Gothamite - and those were all crazy people, on and off Arkham Island - would have tried his luck with Axel; most people were vultures and smelled weakness a mile away.

“I'll talk to the Rogues when I see them, put in a good word for you.”

“You'd do that?”

James' voice was like a knife. “I'll hate it, but the Rogues made you better. They're actually a good influence...when they're not dicks. And you need every piece of stability you can get.”

And that was effectively giving up his own place. James was giving up. Surrendering.

It was humbling. Sobering. And incredibly sad.

“I can call in a few favors from STAR labs, get some proper doctor to get a look at you.”

“You know people at STAR?”

“I have dirt on people at STAR, same difference.”

He grinned slyly, and Axel felt better, seeing that grin.

Then

“Thank you, I guess,” he said. Jesse looked at him and it felt like his eyes pierced his mind, as if he could read everything Axel thought and was hesitant to say or to admit, even to himself.

“Accepted.”

Axel felt very small, as if he was in the shadow of a giant. A dying giant.

“I have some calls to make, arrangements, and so forth.”

He left without saying another word and left Axel to his thoughts.

Axel woke up after a nurse poked his fingers again for a blood test for...something. She left the door open a crack and a stripe of light shone in from the corridor. He looked around and there he was - Jesse. Again sitting in the damn chair, but thankfully not holding his hand.

The shirt against his skin was ghostly pale and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes. He looked ...bad. When James was awake, he was so full of life, but at night...he seemed exhausted. Axel wanted to pity him until he remembered that it was James` own fault - he had never asked him come and certainly not to stay. The curtain rustled behind Jesse. Axel closed his eyes, determined to go back to sleep and not think about James. But...

The room didn't have any curtains!

Axel's eyes shut open and he sat upright, despite the beeps of protest of the machine which subsided quickly. There was a man behind James...was there? He was...not there, almost transparent. He was inhumanly tall, a shock of white hair and a long cloak that moved strangely, not like fabric should. Axel couldn't see his face clearly, but somehow he registered fangs.

“Hey,” he croaked.

The figure stopped and looked at him.

“Yes, you. Stop that.”

The figure lifted itself to its full height but kept a hand at the back of the chair.

“You can see me? Interesting.”

“I'm not blind, fuckface, my eyes work perfectly. Who the hell are you?”

“Fever hallucination. You're dreaming.” The voice - it felt like silk, like honey, like massage oil pouring over his body. Yes, he must be dreaming. He should go back to sleep. Everything was alright and - no, it wasn't!

Something was off about it, it was like - Axel couldn't describe it.

“Bullshit. You wouldn't be hanging off Jesse if you were my fever dream. Get away.”

The figure smiled and Axel felt cold. What the hell was that thing? And why wasn't James waking up?

“Well done, you're not as stupid as you look.”

“Then who are you and what do you want?”

“I'm Neron, Lord of Hell. And I am waiting.”

“For what? Chance to steal his watch off his corpse?”

There was a flash of green.

“Time until he will die and be mine.”

Neron - almost gently - stroked Jesse's hair and placed it behind his ear. Then he got close, too close, put his wrong mouth with his wrong fangs at Jesse's ear and whispered softly.

Jesse squirmed, arched away, but Neron grabbed his throat, and oh god, his hand went over the entire neck, squeezed and pushed him back into the chair. Jesse looked horrible, his skin was almost sickly pale and shined green. Axel tried to get up, fought with the covers and the tangles of lines that were hooked up to him, but the machines protested and shrilled harshly. His world went black for a second, and when he could see again, a nurse was shining a light into his eyes. A doctor was surveying the machines.

“Nightmare,” Axel croaked. “I just...”

“It's okay. Do you want something to help you sleep?”

Axel was tempted to accept, but he declined. He needed a clear mind to think about this.

What the hell was that?

Chapter 4

“I spoke to Mick” Lisa said, settling in the glass palace that Sam had made. For her, he claimed, but she knew that he had built that thing for himself, narcissistic little bastard that he was.
“Still the old record of 'boo-hoo, Len ruined my life? We really should get T-shirts made.”
“I'll take 10 then. No, James is in town, he visited him.”
“He is?” Sam didn't flinch, not quite, but he tensed up.
“Apparently he's making a tour, Marco has also seen him. He acted weird and then said goodbye.”
“He always acts weird.”
"Mick said it was really weird. I haven't seen James since - ages ago. That business with Lex that went wrong, he split right after that, didn't he?"
"Truth be told, I think he wanted out before that."
"Why do you think he's back?"
"Knowing him: play tricks. The question is whether they're going to be malevolent, this time."

In the morning, Axel woke before James. And that was alarming. James wasn't alright, wasn't even bothering to fake it. In the light, Axel could see a clear plastic apparatus with tubes on Jame's arm, held in place by white tape. It looked....no, it was just like the one in his arm. But into his went an IV and James's wasn't connected to anything. Axel couldn't stand looking at him and seeing weakness it felt so wrong.
“Hey, get up!” he called. “We need to talk.”
“Do we?” James replied quietly. He shouldn't look tired, defeated.
“Who is the tall guy with the Dracula teeth and green cape, and why is he perving on you?”
The look on Jame's face was equal parts surprise and fear.
“You saw him?” He leaned forward in the chair. “How?”
“I don't know, I woke up at night, and there was this creepy shadow guy, whispering stuff. That.... that was bad, man. Who the hell was that?”
“Oh, that was correct.”
“What?”
“That was Neron. As in the devil, from hell.”
“Shit.”
“You don't know half of it.”
Axel thought of a nice, delicate way to talk about the subject, but although he had been able to fake politeness when it suited his needs, it was hard now, like something in him was rusted.
“When did you meet the devil?”
James leaned forward in the chair, rested his elbows on his knees and steepled his finger together underneath his chin.
“I'm guessing that the guys never told you why we had a falling out and I left; I bet they were vague, trying to be mysterious and came off as threatening.”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“One day, Len decided again that he wanted more, to be ambitious and take over the world, or at least America - he gets in those moods usually after someone has insulted his achievements and reputation. And because he's a dumb schmuck, he decided to drag the rest of the Rogues in as well; promised a once in a lifetime opportunity and whatnot. Piper was too smart and pigheaded; he had had enough of the criminal life; he was mostly in it to piss his parents off, when when he had grown out of his rebellious phase, the Rogues didn't have enough to offer.”
“Traitor,” Axel spat almost automatically.
“Hey,” James snapped back, “you don't know what went down, stop parroting what the others say in order to fit in.”
“That's not - “
“That is exactly what you're doing. Piper is my best friend, and you may be in a hospital, but I'm not above sticking itching powder in your bed.”
“You wouldn't dare.”
Wordlessly, James reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a brightly colored tube and shook it. “Try me.”
Axel fell silent, motioning for James to continue.
“It weren't pretty times, and although we usually stuck together through whatever stupid ideas one of us had, they were getting dangerous and stupidly reckless. Piper challenged Len, and when Len wouldn't see reason, Piper left for good. I think what disappointed him most was that none of the others spoke out against Len, too, everyone had doubts.”
“And you?”
“I admit, I didn't say anything at first. But it was as if Piper leaving shook me awake, and I began to reevaluate my situation. And I wasn't happy. And what was the point then, if I was unhappy? I told Len I'd sit this one out and frankly, that his idea was stupid as fuck.”
“He didn't like that one, huh?”
“Nope, first he yelled, then he threw a bottle at my face. I left him to cool down - yes, in those exact words - and waited.”
“What happened next?”
“Len had been listening to Lex and his promises of unlimited power, and both had listened to an agent of Hell; promising a deal - souls for power.”
“No way.”
“Different times; thankfully the Rogues tried to bail as soon as the nature of the deal was revealed, but Lex had sold them out. Tried to mark them up as sacrifices, 7 lives to open the gates of hell, or some nonsense. But, since we weren't 7 people and no one was willing to go along, it didn't work right. So the devil, Neron, tried a little deal: one year for each of us, so Len, Mick; Digger, Marco, Sam, Piper and me, meaning that we'd get 7 years of happiness and then afterwards we'd belong to him. Needless to say, no one was quite dumb enough to accept. Didn't matter since Lex screwed us over. While everyone dealt with impending doom in his own way - getting drunk or hunting for Lex - I spent some time in hell. Figured I'd get a head start. There, I found something very interesting. The devil wasn't the devil, he was a devil. There are several, and Neron was the head devil. For now. There were 6 other guys in line, and they didn't like him at all. I talked to some and they agreed to help me out. Lord Satanus and Lady Blaze were particularly helpful. You see, devils get their power from deals. Usually they deal wealth or power for souls, and souls get them power. But, deals are the one thing devils must adhere to. If they don't, they'd lose their power. Become weak and begin to fade away. That's what I had to do, that's what I had to do to Neron. I had to make him break the deal. And that's what I did.
Neron sauntered over to me, asked me what I was doing. I said I was getting a head start, truthfully, since I knew that would happen in 7 years. He laughed and said that he expected me to do that. It was bullshit, but I figured that he had to say that. I waxed some sad stuff about my friends, but I never mentioned Piper. He noticed, and then I told him that, since Piper wasn't a Rogue anymore, he wasn't part of the deal. And that surprised him. He hadn't considered that we split up. Or that Piper split. So, he needed someone else. Only, there wasn't, anyone else. That was my opportunity: I told him about Lisa.”
Axel sucked in a breath. James grinned.
“Exactly. Of course he was wary, but I convinced him that since I was already damned, it couldn't get any worse for me, right? And it wouldn't hurt to make the right friends early on. Only to quickly, he agreed. So, he made Lisa part of the deal, since she'd been along on a few small heists. She was family. And that was the whole point. Our deal meant happiness for us: but there is no way in, literally, hell, that Len could be happy for even a second if he knew that his sister would end up in hell. Likewise for Lisa. None of them could be in this deal with the other. But Neron didn't know that. He wrote Lisa into the deal, and signed his own death warrant. The deal broke, since it was impossible to uphold. Neron was dying, or as close to dying as demons get. He was fading, like a ghost, screaming terrible things. And he promised revenge, eternal vengeance and all that crap. And since he blamed me, he marked me. For death, or vengeance, or whatever. People can't see that, but demons can. I'm a marked man. Lately, I've been hearing him. Whispers. Then dreams. I thought I was going insane, sickness eating me up, that sort of thing. My mind creating something to blame, someway to cope. But if you can see him... it's probably time. The line between life and death getting thin - makes sense, since he is as close to life as a dead man can be, and I'm so close to death already."
Axel was silent. James was too, for a few minutes.
"What are you going to do?" Axel finally asked.
"Saying my goodbyes. What else is there to do?"

“Hey, my maestro of music”
“James, stop.”
“My sultan of sound?”
“No.”
“Prince?”
“Of what exactly?”
“Um - pianos?”
Hartley snorted.
“Hey, I'm not a musical genius, alliteration is hard!”
“Well, at least you didn't say prima donna.”
“Small mercies and all that.”
Hartley bumped his shoulder into James' side. They were sitting on Hartley's hospital bed. Hartley was packing his things before being discharged - clothes and toiletries that David had brought over, along with a harmonica - and James was helping. “Helping” must have another definition in the official James Jesse dictionary, because he had brought along a heap of candies from the vending machines and was occupying Hartley's bed, and was most definitely not helping Hartley pack at all.
Hartley informed him of the fact.
“My company is help enough. You do the work, I look pretty.”
“Just like old times.”
“Yep, I distract everyone with my charms while you take them out.”
“Your aim is to distract my clothes?”
“It's the general idea, doesn't work on every occasion.”
Hartley smiled. “It was nice to see you again.”
“Yeah, you too. Me too. Whatever.”
“Everything alright in the Jesse universe?”
“What? Yeah, I was just distracted. Mind drifting a bit and all.”
“Are you okay?”
“What? Yeah, just been thinking.”
“What about?”
“Nothing. Everything. You know me, head in the clouds.”
“And feet in the clouds.”
“Everything in the clouds, basically.”
“Yeah.”
James jumped off the bed. “I have to go, Hartley.”
“Really? That early?”
“James grinned. “It's time. Take care, Hartley.”
“Yes, you too.”
They hugged, and James left. As he went out of the door, he waved.
“Goodbye, Hartley.”

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