The Id
After Apollo had changed-- the only things he could find being a too-tight t-shirt and a pair of jean-shorts just small enough that they clung to his ass like Daisy Dukes-- he went insane.
It was the bulletin board that had done it. Characters from Rent. Characters from Star Wars. BRIDGET JONES.
Either he was crazy, or he was at a focal point of hundreds of universes.
And his best guess was crazy.
It just seemed like the kind of thing that would happen. Some supervillain tagged him in the head with new and insidious technology, or he took a nasty blow from someone bigger than he was, or... something. And now he was unconcious, either in the Carrier's medical wing, or somewhere on a planet, and his psyche was feeding him this garbled universe full of pop culture...
And god knew what meant what, what symbolism was what.
I wonder, will I meet my Ego here? What were the other ones. Superego. Id.
...good god, what would his Id be like? It was the greedy animal part. The impulses part...
Someone dangerous, deadly, selfish, animal, sexy. That's what his Id would look like.
He started down towards the beach, where Tristan had said the housing was... a pleasant walk, the sun comforting even if it wasn't powering him.
There was a man struggling with a half-built hut. ...a gorgeous guy, bald, swarthy, shirtless so that chiseled muscles gleamed-- Vin Diesel? My libido must be on the hallucination committee.
"Um-- do you need a hand?"
The man turned, quickly, and Apollo was stopped dry-mouthed as he stared into the blank, welding-goggles covered stare of his Id.
Dangerous. Deadly. Selfish. Animal. Sexy.
"Yeah," said the man, his voice the deep rasp Apollo knew well from many, many nights on the couch with Mid watching action flicks.
"I've.. only got the one," Apollo said, staring.
"Got a back? Then stand under here. If I can hold this up..."
Apollo let the man put the weight down on his back. What does helping my id build a house mean? Freud would have a field day...
"My name is Apollo," he said, standing straight under the weight of the branch frame.
"Richard," said his id. "Richard Riddick." Apollo did not say, I know.
Richard worked, he held things up. He watched Richard's muscles glisten, and missed his husband. Badly. Even cheating on him in a hallucination would still be infidelity...
Even, said a nasty little voice, If he's done it to you? You need to even the score for Danny Chan and Samson... He wasn't surprised to hear the sentiment. He just didn't agree. Danny ... oh, god, that had hurt, it had been a betrayal... he could still remember the faraway look on Mid's face as he confessed to that kiss.
But Samson, he'd betrayed Midnighter by using Apollo's face, and when he'd ripped the fucker to pieces it was not out of jealously but protective rage.
"Where ya from?" Richard said, sounding as if he didn't much care. He almost had the framework finished.
"A parallel earth. I used to have superpowers. I don't here."
"Oh? What could you do?"
"I could fly..." Wait, who said dreaming of flying was dreaming of sex? Should he really be discussing that with.. this?
"Huh." Richard worked for a minute. "That as cool as everyone makes it out to be?"
"Yes," Apollo said quietly.
Silence, and the frame came up. "You one of the one's who wants to leave so bad?"
"Yes. I have a family."
"Your wife know you like to look at men without shirts?"
"...My husband's okay with that fact, actually."
Richard snorted. "Cute. Not many planets out there actually give official marriages to men."
The more things change... "Who was going to stop us? I had heat vision."
Richard laughed, obviously amused by the thought of grievous bodily harm, and asked, "What about him? He super, too?"
"Yeah... less flashy, more kill things with speed and strategy." Apollo sighed. "You remind me of him."
"...he's a surly, murdering bastard?"
"The surliest."
Richard shook his head, amused. "You're the least annoying hero I've ever met."
"Thanks."
They built a hut.
Over a dinner of fruit, and bread, and stew from the compound, Richard suggested something.
Very logical. Apollo was patently a guy who liked to be active during the day, whereas Richard preferred to be nocturnal. Apollo had helped build the house, it would be big enough to share during the few hours that Richard and Apollo were both sleeping...
My id wants an alliance.
But he couldn't bring himself to say no, and not even because Richard was a beautiful man.
He.. wanted people.
Richard surprised him over dinner, when he said that his biggest goal was simply to remain in the island.
What, that's my worst impulse? To stay safe? ...but it made an odd kind of sense. That was the cowardly impulse... take Jenny, take Mid, get out of the business and be SAFE. Be some metropolitan gay couple with a precocious adopted daughter. Be uptown.
Not have androids and aliens kissing his husband. Not being raped by homophobes with government sponsored body upgrades. Jenny safe from evil twins, evil scientists...
He was learning about himself. Was that what this island thing was about?
They grabbed bedding from the compound-- some godugly curtains were in the store-room. Horrible to look at, but warm to sleep under, and padded. Richard had the cloak he'd worn to such dramatic effect in Chronicles, too.
---------
That night, Apollo dreamt that Jenny was having a nightmare.
He woke up, the sound of thrashing and whimpering still in his ears... actually, they were still there, although the whimpers were actually gutteral grunts now.
Richard was sweating, his face contorted with anger as he dreamed.
"Richard?" Apollo crawled over to him. ..he hadn't expected his id to have nightmares. "Richard, you're having a bad dream..." He spoke slowly, calmly, knowing that a sudden awakening would probably get him a shiv in the throat before Richard was actually awake. "Richard, wake up. Come on. It's okay."
He wiped the sweat gently off of the other man's forehead, fanning him. "Come on. Wake up."
Luminescent eyes snapped open, and Apollo reared back. "You were having a nightmare."
"...yeah," Richard said, slowly, a hunted expression fading off of his face.
...and there was no reason a serial killer should remind him of his fourteen year old daughter. But the paternal instinct... comfort and fix.. it was just there.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked soothingly.
"It was dark," Richard said, mirrored eyes on the floor of the hut. "I couldn't see."
"You're... afraid of the dark." Good god.
Those eyes flicked up to him, stabbing like metal. "Tell anyone, I will fucking stab you, okay?"
"I won't," Apollo promised.
"I'm out for the night," Richard grunted, raising the flap that served as door. The moonlight was bright enough to make him flinch.
Apollo wrapped himself back up and tried to get back to sleep... but he couldn't help thinking a little.
...That's why he did it. That's why he let some prison surgeon stick needles into his eyes. Because then he'd never be in the dark again.
...I am devoting FAR too much time to the motives of B-movie characters.
Apollo fell asleep, and dreamed of his husband.