Mullet-verse fic: Dangers of Dihydrogen Monoxide, chapter 7
Title: Dangers of Dihydrogen Monoxide
Fandom: Justice League
Characters: Junior, Goldie, Booster/Beetle (mention), Max, J'onn, Kon (mention), Bart (mention), Batman (mention), Lian Harper, Pulsar
Word Count: 4247
Rating: PG-13?
Author's Notes: Since the Boostle content in this will be minimal, I've decided to post it here in my own journal. New updates are linked to on boostle in the notes for stories that are actually Boostlecentric enough to be posted there.
Because it fits this whole story perfectly, I present links to the lyrics, and the MP3 of "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley. I highly recommend it. ^_^
Please note: Yes it's Yiddish, and yes the translations are at the bottom.
Warning: Contains content that some readers may find disturbing.
(LJ-cut quote is from Wikipedia.)
CHAPTERS: { Prologue }{ Chapter One }{ Chapter Two }{ Chapter Three }{ Chapter Four }{ Chapter Five }{ Chapter Six }{ Chapter Seven }{ Epilogue }
<-{ previous story: Legacies and Traditions } { next story: Little Boy Blue }->
Beta by lakidaa.
~7th Chapter
Zero, one, one, two, three, five, eight--
--and in the place where you live, nooow face North. Think about, direction wonder why, you haven't before--
--ree point one four one five nine two six five three five--
--calls it the "baby window" and visits when he's feeling glum. Rows and rows of tiny wiggling babies, so tiny and wonderful and full of potential and he wonders what it's like. To be one, to have one--
--thirteen, twenty-one, thirty-four, fifty-five--
--and snails, and puppy dog tails, that's what little boys are--
--hair clog and blood and magic--
--eight nine seven nine three two three eight...four...six--
--you are confused, check with the sun. Carry a compaaass to help you along. Your feet, are going, to be on the grooound. Your head, is there, to--
--in the forces that guard my world and our ways of life, I am prepared to give my life in their defense. I will never surrender of my own free will--
--eighty-nine, one hundred forty-four, two hundred thirty-three--
--perBuddies! Captain Atom. The fallout free, living nuclear reactor! Mary Marvel. Not quite Superg--
--two six four three three eight three...two...seven--
--captured I will continue to resist by all means available. I will make every effort to escape and aid others to escape. I will accept neither parole nor special fav--
--three hundred seventy-seven, six hundred ten, nine hundred eighty-seven--
--little baby, don't say a word. Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird. If that mockingbird don't sing--
--wind blows the cradle will rock. When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, and down will come baby, cradle and--
--omon Grundy, born on a Monday. Christened on Tuesday, married on Wednesday, took ill on--
--burning up, kiddo. Jeez. Here, slow sips...that's it. Try to keep it down this time, huh? It's not fun for anyone when you puke. Hey, c'mere, I gotcha...there. Um...jeez, I don't know any lullabies. ...What about pi? Okay. Three point one four one five nine two six five three five eight--
--will give no information or take part in any action which might be harmful to my comrades--
--urely Chaos and Discord shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in Limbo with Eris Forever.
...I'm sorry.
---------------
"Blue?" Goldie asked, staring at the man tied to the chair.
When she and J'onn had arrived on the Watchtower, Kon had already been stabbed with a fragment of kryptonite and rushed to the infirmary by Bart so the speedster could remove it. They got there in time to hear Blue snarling that not even Batman could breathe in space.
That was all the excuse Goldie needed to fly in and clock her partner before he could make good on his threat.
Now that he had been subdued, they were just waiting for him to regain consciousness. Which he did with a sharp intake of breath and a flinch, blinking rapidly and looking around himself dazedly.
"Is it him?" Goldie asked J'onn hopefully.
J'onn was silent for a moment, then nodded. "It is."
Slumping in relief, Goldie grinned and bent beside the chair to untie him. "That's a--"
J'onn suddenly blurted, "Stop him! He's going to--"
It was too late. As soon as his hands were free, Blue dove from the chair at Lian Harper. Rolling when he hit the ground, he swiveled and came up on one knee, the gun from her hip holster jammed against his temple.
"You...can have it...when you pry it from my cold...dead...skull," he rasped.
"What the hell," Goldie gasped. "Blue, it's us."
"It's always you!" Blue shouted, gun shaking in his grasp. "And I figured it out. I figured out why." He narrowed his eyes as his voice dropped to a hiss. "You need me. You can't find what you want on your own so you gotta get me to show you where it is!
"Well I'm not gonna," he whispered, tears starting to trickle from his eyes as they darted over his teammates' faces. "What happens when you die in a dream?"
"Junior--" Pulsar tried, but the man ignored him.
"I don't...I don't know. Maybe I'll die, maybe I'll go into a coma." Blue swallowed, blinking rapidly as a look of misery settled on his face. "But at least I won't be here to help you." He took a deep, shaky breath and covered his face with one hand. "God, what a sucky way to go."
Curling in on himself, Blue gave a choked sob as he steadied his hand and lowered his other knee to the ground.
"Bist meshugeh?!" the genderless voice of OMAX suddenly boomed over the Watchtower sound system.
Blue froze, eyes popping open. "Es macht mir nit oys," he muttered, breath coming quicker.
"Genug iz genug," the voice growled.
"Drai mir nit kain kop!" Blue said uncertainly.
"Asshole," OMAX snapped. "That's never been funny."
"Gai avek."
"Farmach dos moyl! Put the gun down and quit being an idiot."
"Loz mich tzu ru," Blue groaned.
"Folg mich!"
"A nechtiker tog!" Blue shouted, glaring at the ground. "Why should I listen to you?"
There was a brief pause before the voice murmured, "Gloib mir. You never had trouble trusting me before."
Blue squeezed his eyes shut. "My name," he said desperately. "What's my name."
There was another pause before a familiar male voice whispered a single word into his comm.
"Oh god," Blue gasped, voice wavering on the edge of a sob. "It's real. Oh god, this is real." He tilted the gun up toward the ceiling, then let his arm fall at his side, the weapon making a small clunk as it touched the floor.
"...Blue?" Goldie whispered tentatively.
The man looked up at her dazedly, tears dripping from his chin, and gave her a wavering smile. "...Yeah?" He glanced around again, this time finally seeming to really see them. "Hey guys. ...Missed you."
With that, his expression crumpled and he covered his face with his hands as he bent over his knees.
---------------
It was flat and grey as far as the eye could see. The horizon was faded by extreme distance, with the only real sign of it being a slight difference in the shades of grey that made up the flat terrain and the flat sky.
Glancing back, Junior could see a building that looked like it could be the nuthouse, but it was further away than he thought he had run and wavered transparently like a mirage. He briefly considered returning to it, just to see what would happen, but quickly banished the thought from his mind. It had taken...maybe weeks of careful, desperate, paranoia-tinged planning to escape it.
Just because the outside wasn't what he had expected was no reason to give up now.
Dropping his head back to his knees, Junior considered his options. They were depressingly few.
Returning to the loony bin had already been dismissed. He could stay sitting there like a useless lump.
Or he could get up, pick a direction, and start walking.
Sighing, Junior sat up, then pushed himself to his feet. He turned a slow circle, staring out at his surroundings. Nothing but grey. Flat grey. One day he was going to compare padded white to flat grey, but not until this was all far behind him.
He thought he saw a tiny bump of darker grey in the foggy distance and, lacking anything else to choose from, picked that as his destination.
"It was twenty years ago today," Junior sang quietly, tentatively. His own voice was the only sound in the unnatural, silent stillness of the flat grey world he found himself in. "Sergeant Pepper taught the band to play. They've been goin' in and out of style, but they're guaranteed to raise a smile. So may I introduce to--"
Junior stopped suddenly, staring at what looked like a hazy pillar of smoke directly in his path. He hadn't noticed it before because it blended in with the background so well, but as he got closer there were pale, shimmering flickers of color on its surface. As a faint whiff of citrus shampoo and onion curled around his nose, he cautiously reached out to--
"--invoke infallibility."
"What?"
"Infallibility. I invoke it. So this isn't my fault."
"You can't invoke infallibility!"
"Can too. It's a pope power."
"You're not the Pope! You're not even Catho--"
--touch it and ended up stumbling through, spinning on one foot as he tried to regain his bearings. Stumbling away from the pillar of smoke, barely noticing as it became almost transparent in response to his distance, Junior bent over and braced his hands against his knees.
"Memories," he whispered, remembering the incident he had just re-experienced in full detail. All his senses were screaming that he had just been covered in sticky, smelly goo and having trouble reconciling that with his current condition and surroundings.
Glancing back at the now almost invisible haze, Junior turned back to his only landmark and continued on his way.
"The act you've know for all these years...Sergeant Pepper's, Lonely Heart's Club Baaa-a-aaand."
Time was relative, Junior knew. And also highly elastic, given some of the things he had seen done to and with it.
That didn't make him feel any better about how slow it seemed to be going in this flat grey world.
"Picture yourself iiin a boat on a river...with tangerine treeees and marmalade skiiies...."
A giggle floated out of the haze, freezing Junior with surprise and apprehension. Junior had heard children giggle before, many times, and...there was something not right about the sound now. Slowly pivoting in a circle, Junior peered out into the distance in search of the source of the sound.
When he got back to where he had started, there was a child standing directly in front of him.
"Whoa!" Junior gasped, jumping back.
The child snickered, grinning meanly. "You're new," came a taunting observation.
"Ah...yeaaah," Junior said slowly, backing up another step so he could see the child better. Usually he liked kids, but there was something about this one that was giving him the heebie-jeebies.
Smiling with false sweetness, the child said, "Let's play."
"Maybe later," Junior murmured, slowly edging around the child. "I'm kinda busy right--"
"I wanna play!" the child shouted, stamping a foot.
The oddest sensation of grass stains and chicken pox swept over Junior and--
--the smoke's so thick he can barely see beyond the hot, flicking orange. It chokes him and he coughs hoarsely, throat too damaged and clogged to call for help.
It burns. Everything burns...he should be dead....
Safe, keep you safe, protect you, let you play forever, squirt guns and water slides and--
--huge rat, staring at him with evil red eyes. It's gotta be from one of the contaminated areas, a mutated rat. No normal rat could be that big.
It's the size of a small dog and it's crouching to leap, baring its sharp yellow teeth....
Protect you from the monsters, keep you safe, always have fun, stay young forever and play and play and--
--brought him to his knees, ears ringing with the angry, petulant scream of a child.
"NO!" the child shouted. "You're all wrong! You're a FAKE! Stupid-head! I HATE YOU!!"
"Whuh?" Junior asked dazedly, lifting his head to stare at the child's tantrum.
"It wasn't you! You stole your childhood 'cause you didn't have one! Fakey fakey faker!"
Trying to make sense of the accusations, Junior protested, "I didn't--"
"You DID," the child snarled, hands tightly fisted and eyes narrowing with all the shallow hatred available to one so young. "You're not real. Frankenstein! Broken doll put together with wrong parts mixed up. Playing pretend for real. You're wrong!"
"I--"
The child backed away from him, sharp little teeth bared in hostility, and slowly faded into the gray haze. "I hope Übermensch finds you an' breaks you into pieces, faker," came a spiteful hiss that wavered into nothingness.
Junior stared at where the child had disappeared, eyes wide, wondering what had just happened. Rubbing a hand over his face, Junior sighed and stood up. A quick check of the horizon got him back on track. The slightly darker lump looked a little larger...or maybe he was being optimistic.
On the other hand, the grey haze was getting thicker. Though he could only tell because the ground and sky were blurring together more than before, and the dark lump was merging with both.
He hadn't gotten very far before the haze turned his surroundings into a solid, impenetrable grey. Holding his hands up in front of his face, Junior took some small comfort in the fact that he could still see the light tan of his skin and hadn't spontaneously gone blind.
Then the only warning he had before it surrounded him was the slightest introduction of a reddish hue and--
--skin on fire with sensation, pleasure and pain all at once but both horrible in their own unique way--
--cold and impersonal passion, used and using, feeling dirty and ashamed because the sex is wrong, all wrong--
--it's the guy who smelled like new tires and was a little too interested in boys, but this time without the ability to throw him, to protect himself--
--it's the girl he met at a bar, but this time not finding out until it's already too late, oh god too late, that she's just a mature-looking fifteen instead of eighteen like she said--
--striping away everything but tiny, petty, horrid little secrets and lies--
--a million first times gone horribly wrong--
--never good enough, never enough, never smart enough, failing and failure and--
--not caring, just taking, cruel and hurting and--
--HURTING ME! WHY ARE--
--hating but enjoying it, but why? God, why? Body betraying--
--all over, feel it all over, like ants crawling--
--like performance anxiety and premature ejaculation combined and multiplied--
--held down and helpless and hurting and--
--no love, no feeling, no enjoyment, just empty, meaningless pleasure--
--hollow and meaningless-
--get your clothes and get out--
--then found himself lying curled on the ground, aching all over. His eyes felt hot and when he blinked his eyelashes crackled with the salt of long-dried tears. There was a suspicious tingle in his body, like the remnants of a reluctant orgasm.
Stomach churning violently, Junior managed to lift himself on shaking arms long enough to vomit bile before collapsing to the side of the tiny puddle.
When he swallowed, his throat felt raw, but he didn't remember screaming. Didn't remember much of anything except....
Junior closed his eyes and decided not to think about it.
"You're not going to go to sleep now, are you?"
Junior's eyes popped open in surprise and stared straight ahead at the reddish-orange fur directly in his line of sight.
"Thaaat's more like it," the amused drawl continued. "Show a little more life."
Eyes sliding up to focus on the speaker, Junior hoarsely asked of the small fox, "You're not gonna rip my throat out and eat it, are you?"
The fox snorted and pointed his nose in the air. "And have Eris on my case for breaking one of her favorite toys? Not likely."
Junior rolled over and pushed himself into a sitting position. "You...you know Eris?"
Rolling his eyes, which was strange to see, the fox shook his head. "I know you've been having a rough time here, but have you forgotten your lore so soon?"
"Reynard the fox," Junior murmured slowly, eyes widening. "A trickster and--"
"Aaand under Eris's jurisdiction," the fox finished for him, sounding pleased. "See, I knew you'd get it. You're a smart one. Though technically I'm not a trickster. Here I'm just Trickster."
Junior looked up, staring around at the grey landscape. The faint, blurred line of the horizon was once again visible, as was the hazy dark shape in the distance. "What...is here?" he asked.
"This is the Collective Unconscious, young pupa."
Looking down at the fox again, Junior frowned in confusion. "The what?"
"Collective Unconscious," Trickster said matter-of-factly, curling his tail around his front legs. "It's just the name, doesn't mean anything." He shrugged, which was as odd to watch as when he rolled his eyes. "I am an Archetype of this realm. Like that rotten brat you met earlier, Puer Aeternus. Only I'm nicer." He preened slightly.
"I don't...." Junior closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What's an Archetype? For that matter, what's Übermensch. The kid mentioned it. And what was...that...." He gestured vaguely with one hand. "That."
Trickster sighed and stood up to pad closer to him. Sitting down next to Junior, the small fox rested his head on the man's leg. "Archetypes live here. We just do. We're supposed to be...ideals, I guess. Übermensch is all-powerful, omnipotent, perfect. Aaat least he's supposed to be. Everything here's a little twisted and cracked and--Okay, a lot twisted. Everything that can go wrong with an ideal. Here, Übermensch just means head honcho. I think we used to have a better Übermensch, but he got booted when this guy took over."
"...That sucks," Junior remarked.
Sitting up, Trickster snorted. "And how. I managed to escape most of that because I'm...a little different than the average Archetype." He lifted a hind leg to scratch at his ear, then made a frustrated whuffing sound and nudged Junior's hand with his nose. "Do you think you could--?"
"Oh sure," Junior said, reaching to scratch behind the little fox's ear. "So...you're different because you're under Eris's control?"
"Control, aspect, whatever," Trickster muttered, leaning into his touch. "Anyway, the new Übermensch ruined everything when he took control. You're lucky you didn't get sucked up into Puer's psycho little Neverland. Not having your own childhood finally paid off." He tilted his head to peer up at Junior. "Puer feeds off that stuff, uses it to hook you. You're one step removed from the childhood crap lodged in your brain, so there wasn't enough to hang on to you."
Resting an elbow on his knee, Junior dropped his chin to one hand and frowned thoughtfully. "Well I...guess that explains why he was so cranky."
Trickster made an amused chuff sound. "Causing mischief without even meaning to. You do your goddess proud, pupa."
A brief grin lighting his face, Junior ran his fingers through the fox's fur. "So...what was the...." The grin faded as he stared down at the ground.
"Enneagram," Trickster murmured. "They're like free-floating feeling. That's oversimplified, but close enough for now. You were unlucky enough to run into the Eighth Enneagram. Self-protection, control, passion, lust, that sort of thing. It's probably supposed to have good, balancing parts to it, but everything here went rotten so you got hit with a concentrated dose of self-loathing, helplessness, and bad one night stands."
"Oh."
Trickster gently butted Junior's ribs with his head. "Cheer up, little emo kid! The finish line's in sight."
Snorting in amusement, Junior shook his head. "In sight, sure," he said wryly. "But it's still pretty far away."
"You've got something better to do?" Trickster asked sarcastically. "A pressing engagement you're late for."
Junior laughed.
"That's the stuff!" Trickster encouraged, hopping to his feet. "Go get 'em, pupa! Win one for the Gipper!"
"Okay!" Junior jumped up, then paused and looked down at the fox in confusion. "Who's the Gipper?"
"Uh, played football."
"And why am I--"
"Just...just go," Trickster sighed, raising a front paw in a shooing gesture.
Shrugging and shaking his head, Junior went. This time he walked around any pillars of grey smoke that he encountered, not wanting a repeat of his brief but disorienting trip down memory lane.
He also didn't encounter any more Enneagrams, or Archetypes. Junior wondered absently if Trickster was keeping them away.
By the time he finally reached the dark shape, he had run out of Beatles songs that he could remember lyrics to.
The dark shape turned out to be a small castle. Dark, foreboding, and ancient, it loomed over him, half hidden by a dense fog. Oddly enough, its appearance seemed to be its only defense. There were no guards, no moat, and the doors hung open.
Taking a deep breath, Junior cautiously entered the dark structure, pausing at the threshold to let his eyes adjust to the lack of light before pressing on. A cold wind blew past him, raising goosebumps on his arms.
A sound like metal scraping stone echoed through the darkness, accompanied by faint, haunting laughter.
"Little boy blue come blow your horn," sang a low, deep voice. "The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn."
"Buddy, I've heard that so many times growin' up, it's not even funny anymore," Junior snapped, dropping into a defensive stance.
"Where's the little boy that looks after the sheep? Under the haystack, fast asleep. Will you wake him? No, not I. For if I do...he's sure...to...cry."
Laughter bombarded him from all sides and Junior's eyes widened as he tried to catch a glimpse of his opponent in the gloom. A hint of movement lunging toward him had him dropping to the ground and kicking out blindly. He could feel his foot glance off something hard, metal, and vaguely leg-shaped.
Taking a guess at where the rest of the person was, Junior dove forward, hitting cloth and metal and what definitely felt like a body. The body fell backward with him on top and he threw a punch at where he thought the head was. His fist hit metal. A second punch hit what felt like a jaw.
Then the body disappeared beneath him.
"Ow," Junior muttered as his knees hit the stone floor. Bright light suddenly flared into life and he threw a hand up, squinting stinging eyes.
"Having fun with my pastiche? Unfortunately they don't hold up well under wear and tear."
"Whuh?"
"You've been trouble since the day I met you," a perturbed voice rumbled from inside the light.
Junior slowly lowered his arm and peered in the direction the voice had come from. Either the lights lowered or his eyes adjusted, because he finally got a good look at the man who would be Übermensch, seated regally on a skull-adorned throne.
"Dr. Destiny?" he whispered in disbelief.
The teeth of Dr. Destiny's skull-faced visage stretched unnaturally, giving the impression that he was grinning. "Blue Boy."
Junior narrowed his eyes. "I'm Blue Beetle now," he corrected, standing up and warily stepping closer to the supervillain.
"I know," Dr. Destiny growled. "And wasn't that an unpleasant surprise." Elbows on the armrests of his throne, he laced his fingers together and leaned forward with an air of smugness. "Until I found out you had hidden depths."
"You were trying to get me to sell out my friends."
"I was trying to get revenge," Destiny hissed, clenching a fist. "Destroy the Justice League...." He unclenched his fist and sat back, sudden anger replaced once again with smugness. "From the inside."
"I won't let you--" Junior started, but was quickly interrupted.
"Child!" Dr. Destiny stood abruptly, striding forward and grabbing Junior's jaw with one hand. "You think you have a choice? You'll tell me all...their...secrets."
Junior jerked away and backed up, wiping at where Destiny had touched him.
"Little Boy Blue," Dr. Destiny taunted. "Fast...asleep."
"N--"
"--class. I'm Gold Star and with me is Blue Beetle, and together we have been charged with your education."
"The trusting fools."
"Not in front of the children, dear."
"Yes, darling."
"Now! Me and Blue here were chosen because of our own experience as sidekicks. You might remember us from our exploits with Booster Gold and the second Blue Beetle...? Anyone? ...Any--"
"--Mr. Beetle! Help!"
Danger. The children are in danger.
"Robin!"
Protect them. Protect them from the Justice League--
--responsibility to keep them safe, even if that means hurting their mentors--
--innocent bystanders!
"RUN!"
Have to stop them! Have to--
"--Brother One is pervasive, Ted. I mean, no one escapes the Eye--"
"--in me, you idiot! You think a shoddy patch-job and family can get rid of it so easi--"
--times call for desperate measures, and what time could be more desperate than the end of the world? But even as powerful as they are, they still have weaknesses. Everyone has weak--
"--O!" Junior clamped his hands over his ears as if that would stop the apocalyptic horrors parading through his mind's eye. "Not real, it's not real! It's--"
There was another tug at his consciousness, dragging him into another false reality. But this time he heard Dr. Destiny in the background. Screaming.
Then he was sitting in a chair, hands tied behind it, vision blurring with disorientation. Blinking rapidly, he could see his teammates staring at him worriedly. Goldie's voice cut through the fog to ask a question and a voice that sounded like J'onn answered.
His eyes fell on Lian as his hands were suddenly freed, and he remembered what she had once told him. Which guns had rubber bullets and which ones had live ammo.
Everything snapped into place as he focused on the gun at her hip.
-----
Translations:
"Bist meshugeh?!" the genderless voice of OMAX suddenly boomed over the Watchtower sound system.
["Are you crazy?!"]
Blue froze, eyes popping open. "Es macht mir nit oys," he muttered, breath coming quicker.
["It doesn't matter to me."]
"Genug iz genug," the voice growled.
["Enough is enough."]
"Drai mir nit kain kop!" Blue said uncertainly.
["Don't bother me!" (Lit., Don't twist my head)]
"Gai avek."
["Go away."]
"Farmach dos moyl! Put the gun down and quit being an idiot."
["Shut up! Quiet." (Lit., Shut your mouth.)]
"Loz mich tzu ru," Blue groaned.
["Leave me alone." (Lit., Let me be in peace!)]
"Folg mich!"
["Obey me!"]
"A nechtiker tog!" Blue shouted, glaring at the ground. "Why should I listen to you?"
["Forget it!"]
There was a brief pause before the voice murmured, "Gloib mir. You never had trouble trusting me before."
["Believe me."]
(If anyone noticed any mistakes, please let me know. I'm not fluent and did my best with what I found on websites.)
Also: If anyone wants a complete list of WTF that stuff in the first section is, just ask. And if anyone thinks I really should put together a sort of...DVD extras, authors notes, whatever kinda thing for this story (complete with "deleted scenes"), say so.
[ETA of epilogue: partially written, but possibly not finished and posted for a few weeks because I'll be out of town come Thursday.]
Mullet-verse handbook/guide. (AKA "Are you as lost as I am?")
Fandom: Justice League
Characters: Junior, Goldie, Booster/Beetle (mention), Max, J'onn, Kon (mention), Bart (mention), Batman (mention), Lian Harper, Pulsar
Word Count: 4247
Rating: PG-13?
Author's Notes: Since the Boostle content in this will be minimal, I've decided to post it here in my own journal. New updates are linked to on boostle in the notes for stories that are actually Boostlecentric enough to be posted there.
Because it fits this whole story perfectly, I present links to the lyrics, and the MP3 of "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley. I highly recommend it. ^_^
Please note: Yes it's Yiddish, and yes the translations are at the bottom.
Warning: Contains content that some readers may find disturbing.
(LJ-cut quote is from Wikipedia.)
CHAPTERS: { Prologue }{ Chapter One }{ Chapter Two }{ Chapter Three }{ Chapter Four }{ Chapter Five }{ Chapter Six }{ Chapter Seven }{ Epilogue }
<-{ previous story: Legacies and Traditions } { next story: Little Boy Blue }->
Beta by lakidaa.
~7th Chapter
Zero, one, one, two, three, five, eight--
--and in the place where you live, nooow face North. Think about, direction wonder why, you haven't before--
--ree point one four one five nine two six five three five--
--calls it the "baby window" and visits when he's feeling glum. Rows and rows of tiny wiggling babies, so tiny and wonderful and full of potential and he wonders what it's like. To be one, to have one--
--thirteen, twenty-one, thirty-four, fifty-five--
--and snails, and puppy dog tails, that's what little boys are--
--hair clog and blood and magic--
--eight nine seven nine three two three eight...four...six--
--you are confused, check with the sun. Carry a compaaass to help you along. Your feet, are going, to be on the grooound. Your head, is there, to--
--in the forces that guard my world and our ways of life, I am prepared to give my life in their defense. I will never surrender of my own free will--
--eighty-nine, one hundred forty-four, two hundred thirty-three--
--perBuddies! Captain Atom. The fallout free, living nuclear reactor! Mary Marvel. Not quite Superg--
--two six four three three eight three...two...seven--
--captured I will continue to resist by all means available. I will make every effort to escape and aid others to escape. I will accept neither parole nor special fav--
--three hundred seventy-seven, six hundred ten, nine hundred eighty-seven--
--little baby, don't say a word. Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird. If that mockingbird don't sing--
--wind blows the cradle will rock. When the bough breaks the cradle will fall, and down will come baby, cradle and--
--omon Grundy, born on a Monday. Christened on Tuesday, married on Wednesday, took ill on--
--burning up, kiddo. Jeez. Here, slow sips...that's it. Try to keep it down this time, huh? It's not fun for anyone when you puke. Hey, c'mere, I gotcha...there. Um...jeez, I don't know any lullabies. ...What about pi? Okay. Three point one four one five nine two six five three five eight--
--will give no information or take part in any action which might be harmful to my comrades--
--urely Chaos and Discord shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in Limbo with Eris Forever.
...I'm sorry.
---------------
"Blue?" Goldie asked, staring at the man tied to the chair.
When she and J'onn had arrived on the Watchtower, Kon had already been stabbed with a fragment of kryptonite and rushed to the infirmary by Bart so the speedster could remove it. They got there in time to hear Blue snarling that not even Batman could breathe in space.
That was all the excuse Goldie needed to fly in and clock her partner before he could make good on his threat.
Now that he had been subdued, they were just waiting for him to regain consciousness. Which he did with a sharp intake of breath and a flinch, blinking rapidly and looking around himself dazedly.
"Is it him?" Goldie asked J'onn hopefully.
J'onn was silent for a moment, then nodded. "It is."
Slumping in relief, Goldie grinned and bent beside the chair to untie him. "That's a--"
J'onn suddenly blurted, "Stop him! He's going to--"
It was too late. As soon as his hands were free, Blue dove from the chair at Lian Harper. Rolling when he hit the ground, he swiveled and came up on one knee, the gun from her hip holster jammed against his temple.
"You...can have it...when you pry it from my cold...dead...skull," he rasped.
"What the hell," Goldie gasped. "Blue, it's us."
"It's always you!" Blue shouted, gun shaking in his grasp. "And I figured it out. I figured out why." He narrowed his eyes as his voice dropped to a hiss. "You need me. You can't find what you want on your own so you gotta get me to show you where it is!
"Well I'm not gonna," he whispered, tears starting to trickle from his eyes as they darted over his teammates' faces. "What happens when you die in a dream?"
"Junior--" Pulsar tried, but the man ignored him.
"I don't...I don't know. Maybe I'll die, maybe I'll go into a coma." Blue swallowed, blinking rapidly as a look of misery settled on his face. "But at least I won't be here to help you." He took a deep, shaky breath and covered his face with one hand. "God, what a sucky way to go."
Curling in on himself, Blue gave a choked sob as he steadied his hand and lowered his other knee to the ground.
"Bist meshugeh?!" the genderless voice of OMAX suddenly boomed over the Watchtower sound system.
Blue froze, eyes popping open. "Es macht mir nit oys," he muttered, breath coming quicker.
"Genug iz genug," the voice growled.
"Drai mir nit kain kop!" Blue said uncertainly.
"Asshole," OMAX snapped. "That's never been funny."
"Gai avek."
"Farmach dos moyl! Put the gun down and quit being an idiot."
"Loz mich tzu ru," Blue groaned.
"Folg mich!"
"A nechtiker tog!" Blue shouted, glaring at the ground. "Why should I listen to you?"
There was a brief pause before the voice murmured, "Gloib mir. You never had trouble trusting me before."
Blue squeezed his eyes shut. "My name," he said desperately. "What's my name."
There was another pause before a familiar male voice whispered a single word into his comm.
"Oh god," Blue gasped, voice wavering on the edge of a sob. "It's real. Oh god, this is real." He tilted the gun up toward the ceiling, then let his arm fall at his side, the weapon making a small clunk as it touched the floor.
"...Blue?" Goldie whispered tentatively.
The man looked up at her dazedly, tears dripping from his chin, and gave her a wavering smile. "...Yeah?" He glanced around again, this time finally seeming to really see them. "Hey guys. ...Missed you."
With that, his expression crumpled and he covered his face with his hands as he bent over his knees.
---------------
It was flat and grey as far as the eye could see. The horizon was faded by extreme distance, with the only real sign of it being a slight difference in the shades of grey that made up the flat terrain and the flat sky.
Glancing back, Junior could see a building that looked like it could be the nuthouse, but it was further away than he thought he had run and wavered transparently like a mirage. He briefly considered returning to it, just to see what would happen, but quickly banished the thought from his mind. It had taken...maybe weeks of careful, desperate, paranoia-tinged planning to escape it.
Just because the outside wasn't what he had expected was no reason to give up now.
Dropping his head back to his knees, Junior considered his options. They were depressingly few.
Returning to the loony bin had already been dismissed. He could stay sitting there like a useless lump.
Or he could get up, pick a direction, and start walking.
Sighing, Junior sat up, then pushed himself to his feet. He turned a slow circle, staring out at his surroundings. Nothing but grey. Flat grey. One day he was going to compare padded white to flat grey, but not until this was all far behind him.
He thought he saw a tiny bump of darker grey in the foggy distance and, lacking anything else to choose from, picked that as his destination.
"It was twenty years ago today," Junior sang quietly, tentatively. His own voice was the only sound in the unnatural, silent stillness of the flat grey world he found himself in. "Sergeant Pepper taught the band to play. They've been goin' in and out of style, but they're guaranteed to raise a smile. So may I introduce to--"
Junior stopped suddenly, staring at what looked like a hazy pillar of smoke directly in his path. He hadn't noticed it before because it blended in with the background so well, but as he got closer there were pale, shimmering flickers of color on its surface. As a faint whiff of citrus shampoo and onion curled around his nose, he cautiously reached out to--
"--invoke infallibility."
"What?"
"Infallibility. I invoke it. So this isn't my fault."
"You can't invoke infallibility!"
"Can too. It's a pope power."
"You're not the Pope! You're not even Catho--"
--touch it and ended up stumbling through, spinning on one foot as he tried to regain his bearings. Stumbling away from the pillar of smoke, barely noticing as it became almost transparent in response to his distance, Junior bent over and braced his hands against his knees.
"Memories," he whispered, remembering the incident he had just re-experienced in full detail. All his senses were screaming that he had just been covered in sticky, smelly goo and having trouble reconciling that with his current condition and surroundings.
Glancing back at the now almost invisible haze, Junior turned back to his only landmark and continued on his way.
"The act you've know for all these years...Sergeant Pepper's, Lonely Heart's Club Baaa-a-aaand."
Time was relative, Junior knew. And also highly elastic, given some of the things he had seen done to and with it.
That didn't make him feel any better about how slow it seemed to be going in this flat grey world.
"Picture yourself iiin a boat on a river...with tangerine treeees and marmalade skiiies...."
A giggle floated out of the haze, freezing Junior with surprise and apprehension. Junior had heard children giggle before, many times, and...there was something not right about the sound now. Slowly pivoting in a circle, Junior peered out into the distance in search of the source of the sound.
When he got back to where he had started, there was a child standing directly in front of him.
"Whoa!" Junior gasped, jumping back.
The child snickered, grinning meanly. "You're new," came a taunting observation.
"Ah...yeaaah," Junior said slowly, backing up another step so he could see the child better. Usually he liked kids, but there was something about this one that was giving him the heebie-jeebies.
Smiling with false sweetness, the child said, "Let's play."
"Maybe later," Junior murmured, slowly edging around the child. "I'm kinda busy right--"
"I wanna play!" the child shouted, stamping a foot.
The oddest sensation of grass stains and chicken pox swept over Junior and--
--the smoke's so thick he can barely see beyond the hot, flicking orange. It chokes him and he coughs hoarsely, throat too damaged and clogged to call for help.
It burns. Everything burns...he should be dead....
Safe, keep you safe, protect you, let you play forever, squirt guns and water slides and--
--huge rat, staring at him with evil red eyes. It's gotta be from one of the contaminated areas, a mutated rat. No normal rat could be that big.
It's the size of a small dog and it's crouching to leap, baring its sharp yellow teeth....
Protect you from the monsters, keep you safe, always have fun, stay young forever and play and play and--
--brought him to his knees, ears ringing with the angry, petulant scream of a child.
"NO!" the child shouted. "You're all wrong! You're a FAKE! Stupid-head! I HATE YOU!!"
"Whuh?" Junior asked dazedly, lifting his head to stare at the child's tantrum.
"It wasn't you! You stole your childhood 'cause you didn't have one! Fakey fakey faker!"
Trying to make sense of the accusations, Junior protested, "I didn't--"
"You DID," the child snarled, hands tightly fisted and eyes narrowing with all the shallow hatred available to one so young. "You're not real. Frankenstein! Broken doll put together with wrong parts mixed up. Playing pretend for real. You're wrong!"
"I--"
The child backed away from him, sharp little teeth bared in hostility, and slowly faded into the gray haze. "I hope Übermensch finds you an' breaks you into pieces, faker," came a spiteful hiss that wavered into nothingness.
Junior stared at where the child had disappeared, eyes wide, wondering what had just happened. Rubbing a hand over his face, Junior sighed and stood up. A quick check of the horizon got him back on track. The slightly darker lump looked a little larger...or maybe he was being optimistic.
On the other hand, the grey haze was getting thicker. Though he could only tell because the ground and sky were blurring together more than before, and the dark lump was merging with both.
He hadn't gotten very far before the haze turned his surroundings into a solid, impenetrable grey. Holding his hands up in front of his face, Junior took some small comfort in the fact that he could still see the light tan of his skin and hadn't spontaneously gone blind.
Then the only warning he had before it surrounded him was the slightest introduction of a reddish hue and--
--skin on fire with sensation, pleasure and pain all at once but both horrible in their own unique way--
--cold and impersonal passion, used and using, feeling dirty and ashamed because the sex is wrong, all wrong--
--it's the guy who smelled like new tires and was a little too interested in boys, but this time without the ability to throw him, to protect himself--
--it's the girl he met at a bar, but this time not finding out until it's already too late, oh god too late, that she's just a mature-looking fifteen instead of eighteen like she said--
--striping away everything but tiny, petty, horrid little secrets and lies--
--a million first times gone horribly wrong--
--never good enough, never enough, never smart enough, failing and failure and--
--not caring, just taking, cruel and hurting and--
--HURTING ME! WHY ARE--
--hating but enjoying it, but why? God, why? Body betraying--
--all over, feel it all over, like ants crawling--
--like performance anxiety and premature ejaculation combined and multiplied--
--held down and helpless and hurting and--
--no love, no feeling, no enjoyment, just empty, meaningless pleasure--
--hollow and meaningless-
--get your clothes and get out--
--then found himself lying curled on the ground, aching all over. His eyes felt hot and when he blinked his eyelashes crackled with the salt of long-dried tears. There was a suspicious tingle in his body, like the remnants of a reluctant orgasm.
Stomach churning violently, Junior managed to lift himself on shaking arms long enough to vomit bile before collapsing to the side of the tiny puddle.
When he swallowed, his throat felt raw, but he didn't remember screaming. Didn't remember much of anything except....
Junior closed his eyes and decided not to think about it.
"You're not going to go to sleep now, are you?"
Junior's eyes popped open in surprise and stared straight ahead at the reddish-orange fur directly in his line of sight.
"Thaaat's more like it," the amused drawl continued. "Show a little more life."
Eyes sliding up to focus on the speaker, Junior hoarsely asked of the small fox, "You're not gonna rip my throat out and eat it, are you?"
The fox snorted and pointed his nose in the air. "And have Eris on my case for breaking one of her favorite toys? Not likely."
Junior rolled over and pushed himself into a sitting position. "You...you know Eris?"
Rolling his eyes, which was strange to see, the fox shook his head. "I know you've been having a rough time here, but have you forgotten your lore so soon?"
"Reynard the fox," Junior murmured slowly, eyes widening. "A trickster and--"
"Aaand under Eris's jurisdiction," the fox finished for him, sounding pleased. "See, I knew you'd get it. You're a smart one. Though technically I'm not a trickster. Here I'm just Trickster."
Junior looked up, staring around at the grey landscape. The faint, blurred line of the horizon was once again visible, as was the hazy dark shape in the distance. "What...is here?" he asked.
"This is the Collective Unconscious, young pupa."
Looking down at the fox again, Junior frowned in confusion. "The what?"
"Collective Unconscious," Trickster said matter-of-factly, curling his tail around his front legs. "It's just the name, doesn't mean anything." He shrugged, which was as odd to watch as when he rolled his eyes. "I am an Archetype of this realm. Like that rotten brat you met earlier, Puer Aeternus. Only I'm nicer." He preened slightly.
"I don't...." Junior closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What's an Archetype? For that matter, what's Übermensch. The kid mentioned it. And what was...that...." He gestured vaguely with one hand. "That."
Trickster sighed and stood up to pad closer to him. Sitting down next to Junior, the small fox rested his head on the man's leg. "Archetypes live here. We just do. We're supposed to be...ideals, I guess. Übermensch is all-powerful, omnipotent, perfect. Aaat least he's supposed to be. Everything here's a little twisted and cracked and--Okay, a lot twisted. Everything that can go wrong with an ideal. Here, Übermensch just means head honcho. I think we used to have a better Übermensch, but he got booted when this guy took over."
"...That sucks," Junior remarked.
Sitting up, Trickster snorted. "And how. I managed to escape most of that because I'm...a little different than the average Archetype." He lifted a hind leg to scratch at his ear, then made a frustrated whuffing sound and nudged Junior's hand with his nose. "Do you think you could--?"
"Oh sure," Junior said, reaching to scratch behind the little fox's ear. "So...you're different because you're under Eris's control?"
"Control, aspect, whatever," Trickster muttered, leaning into his touch. "Anyway, the new Übermensch ruined everything when he took control. You're lucky you didn't get sucked up into Puer's psycho little Neverland. Not having your own childhood finally paid off." He tilted his head to peer up at Junior. "Puer feeds off that stuff, uses it to hook you. You're one step removed from the childhood crap lodged in your brain, so there wasn't enough to hang on to you."
Resting an elbow on his knee, Junior dropped his chin to one hand and frowned thoughtfully. "Well I...guess that explains why he was so cranky."
Trickster made an amused chuff sound. "Causing mischief without even meaning to. You do your goddess proud, pupa."
A brief grin lighting his face, Junior ran his fingers through the fox's fur. "So...what was the...." The grin faded as he stared down at the ground.
"Enneagram," Trickster murmured. "They're like free-floating feeling. That's oversimplified, but close enough for now. You were unlucky enough to run into the Eighth Enneagram. Self-protection, control, passion, lust, that sort of thing. It's probably supposed to have good, balancing parts to it, but everything here went rotten so you got hit with a concentrated dose of self-loathing, helplessness, and bad one night stands."
"Oh."
Trickster gently butted Junior's ribs with his head. "Cheer up, little emo kid! The finish line's in sight."
Snorting in amusement, Junior shook his head. "In sight, sure," he said wryly. "But it's still pretty far away."
"You've got something better to do?" Trickster asked sarcastically. "A pressing engagement you're late for."
Junior laughed.
"That's the stuff!" Trickster encouraged, hopping to his feet. "Go get 'em, pupa! Win one for the Gipper!"
"Okay!" Junior jumped up, then paused and looked down at the fox in confusion. "Who's the Gipper?"
"Uh, played football."
"And why am I--"
"Just...just go," Trickster sighed, raising a front paw in a shooing gesture.
Shrugging and shaking his head, Junior went. This time he walked around any pillars of grey smoke that he encountered, not wanting a repeat of his brief but disorienting trip down memory lane.
He also didn't encounter any more Enneagrams, or Archetypes. Junior wondered absently if Trickster was keeping them away.
By the time he finally reached the dark shape, he had run out of Beatles songs that he could remember lyrics to.
The dark shape turned out to be a small castle. Dark, foreboding, and ancient, it loomed over him, half hidden by a dense fog. Oddly enough, its appearance seemed to be its only defense. There were no guards, no moat, and the doors hung open.
Taking a deep breath, Junior cautiously entered the dark structure, pausing at the threshold to let his eyes adjust to the lack of light before pressing on. A cold wind blew past him, raising goosebumps on his arms.
A sound like metal scraping stone echoed through the darkness, accompanied by faint, haunting laughter.
"Little boy blue come blow your horn," sang a low, deep voice. "The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn."
"Buddy, I've heard that so many times growin' up, it's not even funny anymore," Junior snapped, dropping into a defensive stance.
"Where's the little boy that looks after the sheep? Under the haystack, fast asleep. Will you wake him? No, not I. For if I do...he's sure...to...cry."
Laughter bombarded him from all sides and Junior's eyes widened as he tried to catch a glimpse of his opponent in the gloom. A hint of movement lunging toward him had him dropping to the ground and kicking out blindly. He could feel his foot glance off something hard, metal, and vaguely leg-shaped.
Taking a guess at where the rest of the person was, Junior dove forward, hitting cloth and metal and what definitely felt like a body. The body fell backward with him on top and he threw a punch at where he thought the head was. His fist hit metal. A second punch hit what felt like a jaw.
Then the body disappeared beneath him.
"Ow," Junior muttered as his knees hit the stone floor. Bright light suddenly flared into life and he threw a hand up, squinting stinging eyes.
"Having fun with my pastiche? Unfortunately they don't hold up well under wear and tear."
"Whuh?"
"You've been trouble since the day I met you," a perturbed voice rumbled from inside the light.
Junior slowly lowered his arm and peered in the direction the voice had come from. Either the lights lowered or his eyes adjusted, because he finally got a good look at the man who would be Übermensch, seated regally on a skull-adorned throne.
"Dr. Destiny?" he whispered in disbelief.
The teeth of Dr. Destiny's skull-faced visage stretched unnaturally, giving the impression that he was grinning. "Blue Boy."
Junior narrowed his eyes. "I'm Blue Beetle now," he corrected, standing up and warily stepping closer to the supervillain.
"I know," Dr. Destiny growled. "And wasn't that an unpleasant surprise." Elbows on the armrests of his throne, he laced his fingers together and leaned forward with an air of smugness. "Until I found out you had hidden depths."
"You were trying to get me to sell out my friends."
"I was trying to get revenge," Destiny hissed, clenching a fist. "Destroy the Justice League...." He unclenched his fist and sat back, sudden anger replaced once again with smugness. "From the inside."
"I won't let you--" Junior started, but was quickly interrupted.
"Child!" Dr. Destiny stood abruptly, striding forward and grabbing Junior's jaw with one hand. "You think you have a choice? You'll tell me all...their...secrets."
Junior jerked away and backed up, wiping at where Destiny had touched him.
"Little Boy Blue," Dr. Destiny taunted. "Fast...asleep."
"N--"
"--class. I'm Gold Star and with me is Blue Beetle, and together we have been charged with your education."
"The trusting fools."
"Not in front of the children, dear."
"Yes, darling."
"Now! Me and Blue here were chosen because of our own experience as sidekicks. You might remember us from our exploits with Booster Gold and the second Blue Beetle...? Anyone? ...Any--"
"--Mr. Beetle! Help!"
Danger. The children are in danger.
"Robin!"
Protect them. Protect them from the Justice League--
--responsibility to keep them safe, even if that means hurting their mentors--
--innocent bystanders!
"RUN!"
Have to stop them! Have to--
"--Brother One is pervasive, Ted. I mean, no one escapes the Eye--"
"--in me, you idiot! You think a shoddy patch-job and family can get rid of it so easi--"
--times call for desperate measures, and what time could be more desperate than the end of the world? But even as powerful as they are, they still have weaknesses. Everyone has weak--
"--O!" Junior clamped his hands over his ears as if that would stop the apocalyptic horrors parading through his mind's eye. "Not real, it's not real! It's--"
There was another tug at his consciousness, dragging him into another false reality. But this time he heard Dr. Destiny in the background. Screaming.
Then he was sitting in a chair, hands tied behind it, vision blurring with disorientation. Blinking rapidly, he could see his teammates staring at him worriedly. Goldie's voice cut through the fog to ask a question and a voice that sounded like J'onn answered.
His eyes fell on Lian as his hands were suddenly freed, and he remembered what she had once told him. Which guns had rubber bullets and which ones had live ammo.
Everything snapped into place as he focused on the gun at her hip.
-----
Translations:
"Bist meshugeh?!" the genderless voice of OMAX suddenly boomed over the Watchtower sound system.
["Are you crazy?!"]
Blue froze, eyes popping open. "Es macht mir nit oys," he muttered, breath coming quicker.
["It doesn't matter to me."]
"Genug iz genug," the voice growled.
["Enough is enough."]
"Drai mir nit kain kop!" Blue said uncertainly.
["Don't bother me!" (Lit., Don't twist my head)]
"Gai avek."
["Go away."]
"Farmach dos moyl! Put the gun down and quit being an idiot."
["Shut up! Quiet." (Lit., Shut your mouth.)]
"Loz mich tzu ru," Blue groaned.
["Leave me alone." (Lit., Let me be in peace!)]
"Folg mich!"
["Obey me!"]
"A nechtiker tog!" Blue shouted, glaring at the ground. "Why should I listen to you?"
["Forget it!"]
There was a brief pause before the voice murmured, "Gloib mir. You never had trouble trusting me before."
["Believe me."]
(If anyone noticed any mistakes, please let me know. I'm not fluent and did my best with what I found on websites.)
Also: If anyone wants a complete list of WTF that stuff in the first section is, just ask. And if anyone thinks I really should put together a sort of...DVD extras, authors notes, whatever kinda thing for this story (complete with "deleted scenes"), say so.
[ETA of epilogue: partially written, but possibly not finished and posted for a few weeks because I'll be out of town come Thursday.]
Mullet-verse handbook/guide. (AKA "Are you as lost as I am?")