Roguesbang 2014: Don't worry about him, he's armless (3/3)
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.
Chapter 5
The bar was empty except for him and the bartender. The man had been glaring at Len in order to silently tell him to leave, but Len had just glared back and ordered another drink. Miserable night. The dor opened and the bartender told the newcomer that they were closed. Someone slipped onto the seat next to Len and placed money on the counter. "I only want one drink, and a chat with my friend. In private." Then Len noticed that the bills had a rather high denomination. The bartender left, grabbing the cash on his way to the backroom.
"I was wondering when you'd come for me," Len said.
"Save the best for last? Or maybe I couldn't be bothered before."
James hopped over the counter and poured himself a drink from one of the many bottles lining the shelf behind the bar.
Afterwards, he sat down on the counter, legs crossed.
"I'm not apologizing, if that's what you're after," Len told him and down the contents of his glass.
"Apology? I don't deserve an apology, I deserve a hundred. A thousand! You could throw me a parade and it still wouldn't be enough!"
"You endangered Lisa." Len said, as his only explanation.
"Coming from you, that's rich."
The counter frosted over, ice cracking.
"Shut your mouth!" Len yelled. He looked up - strange that he hadn't done that before - and recoiled. He'd expected James to be angry, furious, maybe even sad; but it was worse. He grinned. And from his position, he was looking down at Len.
"Look what you did to her, what you did to them - and then tell me that what I did was wrong."
"You sold her to the devil!"
"After you sold us!"
"I didn't mean to!"
"Fat load of good it did. I saved us all from your mess - and as thanks, I get thrown out and replaced. But maybe I should be thanking you, since it saved me from being possibly caught up in your little accident."
Len's hands were fists, shaking with barely contained rage.
"I wonder what that thing would have done to me. Melted the shoes into my DNA? Make me and fly and in return - I wonder what it would have taken? If I had been lucky, maybe just my sanity. Maybe I would be a wisp of the wind, a sad reflection of myself. Maybe it would have blown my legs off, who knows. Thank you for saving me, from you and the mess you continue to make out of everyone's life."
Len threw a punch, fist misted in ice and cold - it could have done serious damage to James. But James had flung himself of the counter, and had landed gracefully on the floor.
"You know, I was mad when you replaced me: with a punk who caused more death than all of us combined, a sad copy, a cruel mockery. But, after seeing how you treated him, maybe I was lucky that I got out when I did. Kid's in a hospital, quite literal half the man he was, and you're here, drinking. You should take better care of your Tricksters, seeing how little of them you still have left.
Len howled and summoned his powers: the room was full of snow, icicles dangling from the ceiling. His breath was mist in the suddenly cold air.
"Exactly how warm I pictured my welcome to be. Goodbye, Len."
David came into the hospital, humming softly. Finally, he'd been able to take Hartley home. The doctors had wanted to make especially sure that everything was alright with his implants, had flown in a doctor from Metropolis and everything. Thankfully, everything was alright, and he could pick Hartley up now. He stopped in the gift shop to buy another musical card - cheesy, but Hartley loved those - and stepped into the elevator. He exited and walked along the hallway. Then he saw something flash, and then he heard thunder. Strange, the weather reports had promised a sunny day.
David opened the door to Hartley's room and stopped dead in his tracks. It was empty, safe for Hartley and what looked like Frankenstein's lab. Machine parts, cables, screwdrivers, something humming and beeping. Hartley looked up, a screwdriver clamped between his teeth.
He greeted David, or at least that was what David made it out to be.
“Why are you cannibalizing medical equipment?” David asked, mildly concerned.
Hartley took the screwdriver out of his mouth. “I need a high powered sonic emitter. Now.”
He pulled the hood higher on his head and wished he brought along a real coat. He wasn't made for stealth and hiding. It started to rain, and although he tried not to, the droplets that hit him turned to ice. He'd have to move soon, before it became too obvious.
“You should have brought an umbrella,” a voice behind him said. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
“Or, you know, a proper jacket not a vest. With a hood.”
“It's not a vest.”
“It doesn't have sleeves, so it's a vest.”
“I'm not half naked,” Len retorted and turned around.
Of course, Mick had a coat and an umbrella. Showoff.
Mick extended his arm so that the umbrella covered Len's head as well. Len noticed that the droplets evaporated whenever they got too close to Mick.
A lot of things went though his mind, but he chose one to voice.
“I'm sorry, you know.”
“I know.”
Both stared at the building in the distance.
“What sort of thing has he got himself caught up with this time?”
“Nothing good,” Marco said and touched down beside them.
“You know, I was trying for subtlety here.”
“Screw you, too, Len.”
All three grinned.
“I hate hospitals,” Lisa said, more to herself than Sam.
“Where is he?” she added after no response came.
“I don't know,” Sam answered, “I can't find him. So many mirrors, so many metal.”
Axel startled awake, heart pounding. He didn't know what woke up - no touch nor sound - but it was urgent. He sat up, and when he felt something tug at his arm, he reached up and unhooked the IV bag from its pole. Finally free. His fingers touched something and he looked to the bedside table. On it was a parcel, like a shoe box. On top of it was a note. It said: “You need these more than I do.” He knew what was inside, what had to be inside, but still gasped when he saw the contents. A pair of airwalkers.
The wind tore at his clothes. James stood at the edge of the hospital roof. The rain had intensified, drenching his clothes. His bare feet were getting cold and wet. He smiled sadly. One last time. One last hooray.
It would be over soon, and on his terms.
“Mark, do you see that? I think - I think there's somebody on the roof!”
He took a deep breath and stepped over the edge.
James was deathly afraid of falling; had developed that fear as a child when being forced to perform longer under more and more unsafe circumstances, when his father didn't catch him and he broke bone after bone, and was forced to go on when he wasn't healed yet. This fear had led to him building the shoes, so that he would fall no more, not ever again. Axel had those now.
It would soon be over.
Mark flew towards the hospital, a storm in his wake, as he tried to get closer. He couldn't let someone die, some poor soul jumping from a hospital, it wasn't right. Then he noticed the blond hair, the blue suit - “James!” he yelled and tried to fly faster, he needed to save James, but he had been too far away, the angle was never going to work, but he needed to try, this couldn't happen.
James didn't pay attention to anything but the fall, how it twisted his insides, how he felt like crying, fearing he had disappointed again, feeling inadequate, and how close the ground was.
Almost there.
With a roar, something hit him, tore him out of his fall. It felt as if he had hit the ground, but he hadn't. Glass and chunks of stone on the one side, an invisible force on the other. He started laughing.
“Do you think this a game?” a voice roared, made his bones vibrate. James looked up - he had been smashed into a hospital room, but he was relatively unharmed. Someone had caught him at the last minute.
“Hello Neron.”
The air shimmered like at great heat, flirring and twisting. He could see the ghostly outline of a man - inhumanely tall, imposing, monstrous.
James started laughing. It was not a pretty sound.
“I knew it! I knew it! You needed me!”
Neron growled.
“You were after me ever since I tricked you, weren't you? The whole marking thing was no joke. But you were powerless, I made sure of that. You needed a body, and you had chosen mine, But, it was still occupied. You need me! You want me - broken, empty, a shell of a man - but you need me.”
He always had had his suspicions, but he couldn't be sure; maybe he really had been sick and had thus hallucinated. Maybe his mind had desperately searching for a way out and concocted this scenario, maybe he had needed an explanation other than “you're deathly ill”
His plan had been made with both outcomes in mind - manipulated by someone else into sickness, or being manipulated by his sickness to blame someone else - so he had gone on a last tour, visited his friends, and planted just enough doubt to make sure they'd show up anyway.
But then Axel had seen Neron, too, and then he had proof. Axel had needed blood after his last (hopefully) bout of stupidity, the hospital was virtually empty due to the attack, and James had had the right blood type. And back then, he hadn't been sure if he would have much use of it anyway.
Something in his blood had made Neron visible, had allowed Axel to see.
James wasn't sick, he had been poisoned. He had thought long and hard about the why - petty revenge, probably - but some things hadn't added up. Neron liked grand gestures, big diabolical plans, and quietly poisoning an enemy, so quietly that no one had noticed was not his style. Why kill if you didn't have an audience?
“I figured it out, “it spilled out of James, “you were weakened after what we did. Almost destroyed, so you needed a new body. And since you had a claim on mine, you wanted to take it. But you couldn't, could you? It was still in use, after all, and you weren't strong enough to force me out. You wanted me weak and broken. Needed me to break, so you could take over, and then use the body of your foe to gain power and rule again. Now that seems like one of your plans.”
“Yes,” Neron growled, and moved closer. He was still not quite there, but it seemed as if he were becoming more real, gained color and depth, with every step he took towards James. And with every step, James felt weaker. “sapping your strength, bit by bit, making me stronger while you grow weaker; whisper in your ear - it was delicious to watch. And now it's too late to stop me - you may have forced my hand by jumping, but it doesn't matter. By now, there isn't enough of you left to pose a threat. I shall take over your body and force you to watch as I kill your friends, and then take back my kingdom.”
Neron took one step closer, and James could hear him - hear glass be crushed under his boots, hear clothes rustle, the cape sweeping over the floor. Become tangible. Suddenly he felt as if he couldn't get enough air, like a terrible weight was sitting on his chest.
“It is over, Trickster,” Neron said smilingly.
“I agree!”
Neron's head whipped around.
In the gaping hole that had once been a hospital wall and window, there stood Axel, in James' airwalkers, proud in the air. There was an IV bag taped to his arm, and he was wearing boxershorts underneath a flimsy hospital gown. Not the shining knight from the fairytales, but James was content with what he got.
“Insolent whelp!”
“I have no idea what that means, but it sounds like you were just insulting me.” Axel grinned.
“I shall rip you limb from limb,” Neron threatened, but made no move towards Axel.
“Bit late for that party,” Axel said, “now step away from the old man and let the Trickster kick your butt.”
James felt a hand tug on his shoulder and smiled. Piper. He was not making a single sound - one of his little tricks - and helped James to his feet.
“Cease your prattling! Once I devour you,” he stopped and turned to look at James, “you are not going anywhere,” he threatened and moved closer. James felt weak and his knees buckled, he could almost feel his strength ebbing away.
“Hey, fuckface, party's over here.”
“I'm in no mood for your games.”
“Pity, this one's one of my best, I call it: look at me, I'm a distraction!”
“He is right, that's one of the Trickster's best ones.”
James smiled.
Next to Axel, there were the Rogues. Len on an ice slide, Lisa hovering, Mick and Mark on the hospital floor. Sam was, as he'd predicted, everywhere.
Lisa nodded towards the others. “Piper, shield. Mark, secure the perimeter, don't let him leave.” They obeyed without question. James felt incredible relief as he heard the low hum of Piper's sonic shield in place: it couldn't be seen, but that shield could stop a locomotive at full speed, he'd seen that happen. He placed a hand on Piper's arm, and Piper looked at him. “Patients safe?” he signed. Knowing Piper, he would have taken precautions. “David,” Piper signed back.
Lisa stood in the middle of the rubble, Len at one side, Mick at the other. “I didn't get the chance to pay you back all these years ago. You go after one of us, you go after all of us,” she said.
Neron lunged, getting more and more tangible, more real with every second, but lightning struck just outside of the hospital, making a harsh crack, almost like a whip. The wind that had stopped when Marco had tried to save James, came back with renewed strength. Neron was not going to leave.
Little sparks of ember flew from Mick's hands, and the ground beneath Len had taken on an icy shine.
“Heat travels upwards, doesn't it?” Lisa asked, only it wasn't a question. The Rogues - changed so much over the years - still remembered old plans, no matter what stupid names they had given them: Hail fellows; Disco of Death, Vivaldi revenge. Or, “heat travels upwards”. Mick blasted with full force, fire at shoulder level, forcing Neron to duck. Ice seeped from Len's feet over the floor, creeping up Neron's legs. Sam was in the ice, and yanked Neron's foot through the surface.
Neron was getting weaker, more translucent.
“You cannot hurt me,” he bellowed, “I shall linger in this weak form until I can gain more strength, you shall never know peace, never know quiet.”
“I can still hurt you,” Lisa stated, the golden ribbons coming up behind her, almost like golden wings. “And I think I will”
She struck, and James screamed.
Epilogue
James had apparently fainted when Lisa had hit Neron, whatever connection there had been between them severed. He had come to in a hospital room, surrounded by his friends. Piper had his hands around David - James should really clarify that he was not identical with boyfriend-James, but it was nice if someone else got the ridicule for that for once - Len softly bickering with Mick over something - did it really matter?- Marco slipping a note in his pocket - phone number, undoubtedly - Lisa and Sam being in a glass pane, and Axel - well, Axel was grinning like the little shit he was, sitting on the bed at James' feet.
“I feel like a steamroller drove over me - and then put in the reverse. Ouch.” He sat up.
“You, “Len said while pointing a finger, that was dripping with ice, at him, “owe us an explanation.”
“I tricked you.” James offered.
“You do that when you breathe, you're going to have to be more specific,” Lisa countered.
“Okay, where to start? I thought I was dying, so I made a little farewell round to my friends, while, at the same time, being a bit ominous and mysterious and essentially guilt-tripping you all into coming here. And then I made you beat up Neron. And hey, it worked.”
“You behaved like an ass,” Mick said.
“I believed I was dying, and had some unresolved issues. Or did you want to risk me coming back as a ghost? Now that's a possibility...”
He did explain in more detail after a nurse had come in to see him - the Rogues conveniently hidden in the mirror over the sink in the corner - and they all realized what he had done. Of course they had spoken while he had been unconscious, but other than "James is an utter manipulative bastard" they hadn't gotten very far. But it all made sense. Devil's trap. Len began to say that he was still pissed about the deal involving Lisa, but Lisa had given him a piece of her mind: after all, it was her who had a right to be pissed, if any of them had, but since it was a trick to save all of then, she wasn't really mad at him. At Len however...
After a while, they left. Len told him to call next time before things got serious and punched him in the arm on the way out. James saw it as the sign of silent worry that it had been, but that didn't keep his arm from being covered in tiny snowflakes.
Marco stood, trying not as if he'd been looking towards the door 10 times in the past minute when James sighed. “Marco, get me a soda?” he asked, and Marco recognized it as the offer it had been and left, in search for a phone to call the number he had oh-so-sneakily pocketed earlier.
“I'll see you around,” Mick said in a tone that was half a question and half an order.
“You will,” James replied.
“Warn us next time,” Lisa ordered and punched his other arm.
“Thank you, “James told Piper before he could speak, “and also thanks to you, David. By the way, I have never slept with Piper, so you can rest assured, I'm not going to win him back.”
While David turned an impressive shade of red, Piper giggled and pushed David out of the room, promising they'd talk later.
In the end, it was just him and Axel left.
No one said anything for a while. Axel picked absent-mindedly at some threads on the hospital blanket, James lay silent, thinking for a while. He had time to think about what had happened, how close it had been. What would have happened if Neron hadn't been behind it all and slammed him into a room instead of him just falling to his death. Well, Marco had been there, so he would have lived. For a while, anyway. Most of his goodbyes had been fake, but what if - he shook his head. Best not to think about that. He hurt all over - bruises, cuts, fatigue - but it was a good, clean kind of hurt. Not the sickly thing he had felt before. He wondered if a true illness would feel the same, but then shook himself out of his musings. Before he could think of what had been if Neron had succeeded, all his strength drained away, helpless as a puppet while Neron took over his body. That was the subject of nightmares to come, not his present.
“You know, I really thought you were going to commit suicide when I found the shoes.” Axel said in a hushed voice.
“It was fairly melodramatic, I admit,” it was a grand, noble, stupid gesture, dramatic and shocking.
“But then,” Axel interrupted, “I thought of the one thing you taught me.”
“Just one? Hey!”
“Don't be stupid. I realized that I would never ever try to kill myself, that I'd never be so stupid again. And so I couldn't believe that you'd do the exact same thing. It had to be a trick, and really, kinda obvious. I remember what you said to me about the role we play - and I guess most of the crap I pulled was because I hadn't found mine. So, uh...thanks. For...all.”
“Don't mention it.”
“No, seriously,”
“Yes, seriously, don't mention it to anyone, I'm supposed to hate you.”
“And what do you do now?”
“Honestly?”
Axel laughed out, “you couldn't be honest if half of your blood had been replaced with truthserum.”
“Quite possibly. I hate what you were, that is true, but I think that you can change. And I don't know yet if I'm going to hate who you will become.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
Both smiled.
“You owe me an arm,” Axel continued.
“I don't owe you anything, I'm merciful to even offer.”
“You're an ass.”
“So are you.”
“I want my shoes back,” James said.
“Trade you.”
“Screw you. I take it you talked to the Rogues while I was out.”
“Yeah, proper heart to heart and all that crap.”
“Did you guilt-trip them for not visiting?”
“Of course.”
“Good.”
James leaned back. Brand new day, for both of them. He couldn't wait to begin.
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.
Chapter 5
The bar was empty except for him and the bartender. The man had been glaring at Len in order to silently tell him to leave, but Len had just glared back and ordered another drink. Miserable night. The dor opened and the bartender told the newcomer that they were closed. Someone slipped onto the seat next to Len and placed money on the counter. "I only want one drink, and a chat with my friend. In private." Then Len noticed that the bills had a rather high denomination. The bartender left, grabbing the cash on his way to the backroom.
"I was wondering when you'd come for me," Len said.
"Save the best for last? Or maybe I couldn't be bothered before."
James hopped over the counter and poured himself a drink from one of the many bottles lining the shelf behind the bar.
Afterwards, he sat down on the counter, legs crossed.
"I'm not apologizing, if that's what you're after," Len told him and down the contents of his glass.
"Apology? I don't deserve an apology, I deserve a hundred. A thousand! You could throw me a parade and it still wouldn't be enough!"
"You endangered Lisa." Len said, as his only explanation.
"Coming from you, that's rich."
The counter frosted over, ice cracking.
"Shut your mouth!" Len yelled. He looked up - strange that he hadn't done that before - and recoiled. He'd expected James to be angry, furious, maybe even sad; but it was worse. He grinned. And from his position, he was looking down at Len.
"Look what you did to her, what you did to them - and then tell me that what I did was wrong."
"You sold her to the devil!"
"After you sold us!"
"I didn't mean to!"
"Fat load of good it did. I saved us all from your mess - and as thanks, I get thrown out and replaced. But maybe I should be thanking you, since it saved me from being possibly caught up in your little accident."
Len's hands were fists, shaking with barely contained rage.
"I wonder what that thing would have done to me. Melted the shoes into my DNA? Make me and fly and in return - I wonder what it would have taken? If I had been lucky, maybe just my sanity. Maybe I would be a wisp of the wind, a sad reflection of myself. Maybe it would have blown my legs off, who knows. Thank you for saving me, from you and the mess you continue to make out of everyone's life."
Len threw a punch, fist misted in ice and cold - it could have done serious damage to James. But James had flung himself of the counter, and had landed gracefully on the floor.
"You know, I was mad when you replaced me: with a punk who caused more death than all of us combined, a sad copy, a cruel mockery. But, after seeing how you treated him, maybe I was lucky that I got out when I did. Kid's in a hospital, quite literal half the man he was, and you're here, drinking. You should take better care of your Tricksters, seeing how little of them you still have left.
Len howled and summoned his powers: the room was full of snow, icicles dangling from the ceiling. His breath was mist in the suddenly cold air.
"Exactly how warm I pictured my welcome to be. Goodbye, Len."
David came into the hospital, humming softly. Finally, he'd been able to take Hartley home. The doctors had wanted to make especially sure that everything was alright with his implants, had flown in a doctor from Metropolis and everything. Thankfully, everything was alright, and he could pick Hartley up now. He stopped in the gift shop to buy another musical card - cheesy, but Hartley loved those - and stepped into the elevator. He exited and walked along the hallway. Then he saw something flash, and then he heard thunder. Strange, the weather reports had promised a sunny day.
David opened the door to Hartley's room and stopped dead in his tracks. It was empty, safe for Hartley and what looked like Frankenstein's lab. Machine parts, cables, screwdrivers, something humming and beeping. Hartley looked up, a screwdriver clamped between his teeth.
He greeted David, or at least that was what David made it out to be.
“Why are you cannibalizing medical equipment?” David asked, mildly concerned.
Hartley took the screwdriver out of his mouth. “I need a high powered sonic emitter. Now.”
He pulled the hood higher on his head and wished he brought along a real coat. He wasn't made for stealth and hiding. It started to rain, and although he tried not to, the droplets that hit him turned to ice. He'd have to move soon, before it became too obvious.
“You should have brought an umbrella,” a voice behind him said. He didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
“Or, you know, a proper jacket not a vest. With a hood.”
“It's not a vest.”
“It doesn't have sleeves, so it's a vest.”
“I'm not half naked,” Len retorted and turned around.
Of course, Mick had a coat and an umbrella. Showoff.
Mick extended his arm so that the umbrella covered Len's head as well. Len noticed that the droplets evaporated whenever they got too close to Mick.
A lot of things went though his mind, but he chose one to voice.
“I'm sorry, you know.”
“I know.”
Both stared at the building in the distance.
“What sort of thing has he got himself caught up with this time?”
“Nothing good,” Marco said and touched down beside them.
“You know, I was trying for subtlety here.”
“Screw you, too, Len.”
All three grinned.
“I hate hospitals,” Lisa said, more to herself than Sam.
“Where is he?” she added after no response came.
“I don't know,” Sam answered, “I can't find him. So many mirrors, so many metal.”
Axel startled awake, heart pounding. He didn't know what woke up - no touch nor sound - but it was urgent. He sat up, and when he felt something tug at his arm, he reached up and unhooked the IV bag from its pole. Finally free. His fingers touched something and he looked to the bedside table. On it was a parcel, like a shoe box. On top of it was a note. It said: “You need these more than I do.” He knew what was inside, what had to be inside, but still gasped when he saw the contents. A pair of airwalkers.
The wind tore at his clothes. James stood at the edge of the hospital roof. The rain had intensified, drenching his clothes. His bare feet were getting cold and wet. He smiled sadly. One last time. One last hooray.
It would be over soon, and on his terms.
“Mark, do you see that? I think - I think there's somebody on the roof!”
He took a deep breath and stepped over the edge.
James was deathly afraid of falling; had developed that fear as a child when being forced to perform longer under more and more unsafe circumstances, when his father didn't catch him and he broke bone after bone, and was forced to go on when he wasn't healed yet. This fear had led to him building the shoes, so that he would fall no more, not ever again. Axel had those now.
It would soon be over.
Mark flew towards the hospital, a storm in his wake, as he tried to get closer. He couldn't let someone die, some poor soul jumping from a hospital, it wasn't right. Then he noticed the blond hair, the blue suit - “James!” he yelled and tried to fly faster, he needed to save James, but he had been too far away, the angle was never going to work, but he needed to try, this couldn't happen.
James didn't pay attention to anything but the fall, how it twisted his insides, how he felt like crying, fearing he had disappointed again, feeling inadequate, and how close the ground was.
Almost there.
With a roar, something hit him, tore him out of his fall. It felt as if he had hit the ground, but he hadn't. Glass and chunks of stone on the one side, an invisible force on the other. He started laughing.
“Do you think this a game?” a voice roared, made his bones vibrate. James looked up - he had been smashed into a hospital room, but he was relatively unharmed. Someone had caught him at the last minute.
“Hello Neron.”
The air shimmered like at great heat, flirring and twisting. He could see the ghostly outline of a man - inhumanely tall, imposing, monstrous.
James started laughing. It was not a pretty sound.
“I knew it! I knew it! You needed me!”
Neron growled.
“You were after me ever since I tricked you, weren't you? The whole marking thing was no joke. But you were powerless, I made sure of that. You needed a body, and you had chosen mine, But, it was still occupied. You need me! You want me - broken, empty, a shell of a man - but you need me.”
He always had had his suspicions, but he couldn't be sure; maybe he really had been sick and had thus hallucinated. Maybe his mind had desperately searching for a way out and concocted this scenario, maybe he had needed an explanation other than “you're deathly ill”
His plan had been made with both outcomes in mind - manipulated by someone else into sickness, or being manipulated by his sickness to blame someone else - so he had gone on a last tour, visited his friends, and planted just enough doubt to make sure they'd show up anyway.
But then Axel had seen Neron, too, and then he had proof. Axel had needed blood after his last (hopefully) bout of stupidity, the hospital was virtually empty due to the attack, and James had had the right blood type. And back then, he hadn't been sure if he would have much use of it anyway.
Something in his blood had made Neron visible, had allowed Axel to see.
James wasn't sick, he had been poisoned. He had thought long and hard about the why - petty revenge, probably - but some things hadn't added up. Neron liked grand gestures, big diabolical plans, and quietly poisoning an enemy, so quietly that no one had noticed was not his style. Why kill if you didn't have an audience?
“I figured it out, “it spilled out of James, “you were weakened after what we did. Almost destroyed, so you needed a new body. And since you had a claim on mine, you wanted to take it. But you couldn't, could you? It was still in use, after all, and you weren't strong enough to force me out. You wanted me weak and broken. Needed me to break, so you could take over, and then use the body of your foe to gain power and rule again. Now that seems like one of your plans.”
“Yes,” Neron growled, and moved closer. He was still not quite there, but it seemed as if he were becoming more real, gained color and depth, with every step he took towards James. And with every step, James felt weaker. “sapping your strength, bit by bit, making me stronger while you grow weaker; whisper in your ear - it was delicious to watch. And now it's too late to stop me - you may have forced my hand by jumping, but it doesn't matter. By now, there isn't enough of you left to pose a threat. I shall take over your body and force you to watch as I kill your friends, and then take back my kingdom.”
Neron took one step closer, and James could hear him - hear glass be crushed under his boots, hear clothes rustle, the cape sweeping over the floor. Become tangible. Suddenly he felt as if he couldn't get enough air, like a terrible weight was sitting on his chest.
“It is over, Trickster,” Neron said smilingly.
“I agree!”
Neron's head whipped around.
In the gaping hole that had once been a hospital wall and window, there stood Axel, in James' airwalkers, proud in the air. There was an IV bag taped to his arm, and he was wearing boxershorts underneath a flimsy hospital gown. Not the shining knight from the fairytales, but James was content with what he got.
“Insolent whelp!”
“I have no idea what that means, but it sounds like you were just insulting me.” Axel grinned.
“I shall rip you limb from limb,” Neron threatened, but made no move towards Axel.
“Bit late for that party,” Axel said, “now step away from the old man and let the Trickster kick your butt.”
James felt a hand tug on his shoulder and smiled. Piper. He was not making a single sound - one of his little tricks - and helped James to his feet.
“Cease your prattling! Once I devour you,” he stopped and turned to look at James, “you are not going anywhere,” he threatened and moved closer. James felt weak and his knees buckled, he could almost feel his strength ebbing away.
“Hey, fuckface, party's over here.”
“I'm in no mood for your games.”
“Pity, this one's one of my best, I call it: look at me, I'm a distraction!”
“He is right, that's one of the Trickster's best ones.”
James smiled.
Next to Axel, there were the Rogues. Len on an ice slide, Lisa hovering, Mick and Mark on the hospital floor. Sam was, as he'd predicted, everywhere.
Lisa nodded towards the others. “Piper, shield. Mark, secure the perimeter, don't let him leave.” They obeyed without question. James felt incredible relief as he heard the low hum of Piper's sonic shield in place: it couldn't be seen, but that shield could stop a locomotive at full speed, he'd seen that happen. He placed a hand on Piper's arm, and Piper looked at him. “Patients safe?” he signed. Knowing Piper, he would have taken precautions. “David,” Piper signed back.
Lisa stood in the middle of the rubble, Len at one side, Mick at the other. “I didn't get the chance to pay you back all these years ago. You go after one of us, you go after all of us,” she said.
Neron lunged, getting more and more tangible, more real with every second, but lightning struck just outside of the hospital, making a harsh crack, almost like a whip. The wind that had stopped when Marco had tried to save James, came back with renewed strength. Neron was not going to leave.
Little sparks of ember flew from Mick's hands, and the ground beneath Len had taken on an icy shine.
“Heat travels upwards, doesn't it?” Lisa asked, only it wasn't a question. The Rogues - changed so much over the years - still remembered old plans, no matter what stupid names they had given them: Hail fellows; Disco of Death, Vivaldi revenge. Or, “heat travels upwards”. Mick blasted with full force, fire at shoulder level, forcing Neron to duck. Ice seeped from Len's feet over the floor, creeping up Neron's legs. Sam was in the ice, and yanked Neron's foot through the surface.
Neron was getting weaker, more translucent.
“You cannot hurt me,” he bellowed, “I shall linger in this weak form until I can gain more strength, you shall never know peace, never know quiet.”
“I can still hurt you,” Lisa stated, the golden ribbons coming up behind her, almost like golden wings. “And I think I will”
She struck, and James screamed.
Epilogue
James had apparently fainted when Lisa had hit Neron, whatever connection there had been between them severed. He had come to in a hospital room, surrounded by his friends. Piper had his hands around David - James should really clarify that he was not identical with boyfriend-James, but it was nice if someone else got the ridicule for that for once - Len softly bickering with Mick over something - did it really matter?- Marco slipping a note in his pocket - phone number, undoubtedly - Lisa and Sam being in a glass pane, and Axel - well, Axel was grinning like the little shit he was, sitting on the bed at James' feet.
“I feel like a steamroller drove over me - and then put in the reverse. Ouch.” He sat up.
“You, “Len said while pointing a finger, that was dripping with ice, at him, “owe us an explanation.”
“I tricked you.” James offered.
“You do that when you breathe, you're going to have to be more specific,” Lisa countered.
“Okay, where to start? I thought I was dying, so I made a little farewell round to my friends, while, at the same time, being a bit ominous and mysterious and essentially guilt-tripping you all into coming here. And then I made you beat up Neron. And hey, it worked.”
“You behaved like an ass,” Mick said.
“I believed I was dying, and had some unresolved issues. Or did you want to risk me coming back as a ghost? Now that's a possibility...”
He did explain in more detail after a nurse had come in to see him - the Rogues conveniently hidden in the mirror over the sink in the corner - and they all realized what he had done. Of course they had spoken while he had been unconscious, but other than "James is an utter manipulative bastard" they hadn't gotten very far. But it all made sense. Devil's trap. Len began to say that he was still pissed about the deal involving Lisa, but Lisa had given him a piece of her mind: after all, it was her who had a right to be pissed, if any of them had, but since it was a trick to save all of then, she wasn't really mad at him. At Len however...
After a while, they left. Len told him to call next time before things got serious and punched him in the arm on the way out. James saw it as the sign of silent worry that it had been, but that didn't keep his arm from being covered in tiny snowflakes.
Marco stood, trying not as if he'd been looking towards the door 10 times in the past minute when James sighed. “Marco, get me a soda?” he asked, and Marco recognized it as the offer it had been and left, in search for a phone to call the number he had oh-so-sneakily pocketed earlier.
“I'll see you around,” Mick said in a tone that was half a question and half an order.
“You will,” James replied.
“Warn us next time,” Lisa ordered and punched his other arm.
“Thank you, “James told Piper before he could speak, “and also thanks to you, David. By the way, I have never slept with Piper, so you can rest assured, I'm not going to win him back.”
While David turned an impressive shade of red, Piper giggled and pushed David out of the room, promising they'd talk later.
In the end, it was just him and Axel left.
No one said anything for a while. Axel picked absent-mindedly at some threads on the hospital blanket, James lay silent, thinking for a while. He had time to think about what had happened, how close it had been. What would have happened if Neron hadn't been behind it all and slammed him into a room instead of him just falling to his death. Well, Marco had been there, so he would have lived. For a while, anyway. Most of his goodbyes had been fake, but what if - he shook his head. Best not to think about that. He hurt all over - bruises, cuts, fatigue - but it was a good, clean kind of hurt. Not the sickly thing he had felt before. He wondered if a true illness would feel the same, but then shook himself out of his musings. Before he could think of what had been if Neron had succeeded, all his strength drained away, helpless as a puppet while Neron took over his body. That was the subject of nightmares to come, not his present.
“You know, I really thought you were going to commit suicide when I found the shoes.” Axel said in a hushed voice.
“It was fairly melodramatic, I admit,” it was a grand, noble, stupid gesture, dramatic and shocking.
“But then,” Axel interrupted, “I thought of the one thing you taught me.”
“Just one? Hey!”
“Don't be stupid. I realized that I would never ever try to kill myself, that I'd never be so stupid again. And so I couldn't believe that you'd do the exact same thing. It had to be a trick, and really, kinda obvious. I remember what you said to me about the role we play - and I guess most of the crap I pulled was because I hadn't found mine. So, uh...thanks. For...all.”
“Don't mention it.”
“No, seriously,”
“Yes, seriously, don't mention it to anyone, I'm supposed to hate you.”
“And what do you do now?”
“Honestly?”
Axel laughed out, “you couldn't be honest if half of your blood had been replaced with truthserum.”
“Quite possibly. I hate what you were, that is true, but I think that you can change. And I don't know yet if I'm going to hate who you will become.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
Both smiled.
“You owe me an arm,” Axel continued.
“I don't owe you anything, I'm merciful to even offer.”
“You're an ass.”
“So are you.”
“I want my shoes back,” James said.
“Trade you.”
“Screw you. I take it you talked to the Rogues while I was out.”
“Yeah, proper heart to heart and all that crap.”
“Did you guilt-trip them for not visiting?”
“Of course.”
“Good.”
James leaned back. Brand new day, for both of them. He couldn't wait to begin.