AU Very, very loosely based on the birthday episode, in which there are no powers, Trigon's darkness is genetic and the prophecy delivered by Slade Wilson is no less devastating.
By now she should expect it. Her father ruining her life in new ways without even being present. He'd been dead 3 years and still she hated him.
"I'm sorry." the Doctor paused "Unfortunately, the results are not what we would have liked."
Was that really two hours ago? It felt like a lifetime.
"This is not the end of the world." Dr. Wilson reached forward, his warm hands closing around her cold ones. "There are support groups and medications to help with the symptoms."
"But no cure." She hissed glaring at the papers spread in front of her.
"No. But..." He began.
"How long?" She cut him off.
She pushed the torn envelope deep into her hand bag and kept walking. Some birthday she was having. If she had been given the choice she would have never been born.
To be honest she didn't know where she was headed and didn't care. Dr. Wilson's words were circling in her head and for the last two hours she had been trying to make sense of them. She took a gulp of the fiery liquid she had bought a block back and shoved the bottle back into her hand bag.
"Tell me how long? How long before I can't walk. Before I can't think?" She asked, voice low and emotionless.
"You have to try not to think like that Rachel. With *Huntington's each affected family member's course is different. We can't accurately predict the rate of progression."
Her right hand jerked involuntarily and broke through her racing thoughts. She was already losing control of her body. Another jerk this time from the left and she crouched to calm herself. She noticed a few weeks ago that the twitches were worse when she got emotional. Eyes fixed to the cracked pavement she took deep breaths like Sister Azar had shown her. 'Focus Rachel, let the emotion pass,' she could hear the old nun whispering like it was yesterday. She raised her eyes and was suddenly aware of where she had stopped. The noises of the city and people faded as she took in the familiar faded red ladder. She ran her finger along the rusty surface and exhaled, "Fate."
*
Richard hated street patrol. Actually hated wasn't a strong enough word. Freaking despised was probably more accurate. "My turn?", Richard growled.
Victor crossed his muscular arms and nodded "Yup the last one pissed on me, you owe me two." He leaned against the patrol car and made no attempt to move.
Richard's already substantial scowl deepened. He stretched one long leg then the other before strolling towards the shirtless, middle aged man slumped against the coffee store. The miranda rights rushed out in clipped tones and within five minutes Richard had the drunk cuffed and tucked into the back of the patrol car. This was drunk number eight for the evening and Richard swore if he had to pick up another one his head would explode. The thought of another half dressed person stinking of urine and threatening to vomit sent a chill down his spine. He radioed in his collar and waited for Vic to secure his seat belt. The tall black man in the passenger seat chuckled softly at Richard's fuming.
"Could have been worse." Victor said breaking the tense silence and glancing back at the dozing drunk. Richard was tense tonight but Victor just couldn't figure out why.
Richard's blue eyes never left the road, "I'm just frustrated man." he ran a hand through his black hair and groaned. "I just...this isn't what I signed up for."
"Dude, chill. This is exactly what you signed up for. It hasn't even been a year yet and you know you need to put in time before you can even think about that detective application." Victor turned to stare at the side of Richard's face. "What's really wrong?"
Richard's knuckles were stretched white over the steering wheel. After a tense pause he whispered, "Kori, man."
"She loves you dude, whatever it is you guys can work it out."Victor thought of the devoted red head and smiled.
"It's not that, she's great, she's amazing, she's just...," Richard glanced over at Victor as he pulled the car to a stop outside the station, "She's pregnant."
"Congrats man!," The drunk in the back gurgled.
"Shut up." Victor hissed, slapping the barrier and sending the drunk tumbling backwards. Richard pressed his head against the steering wheel and sighed.
*
Rachel wiggled her bare toes against the rusty grating. Her heels having been discarded somewhere along the way. Slowly advancing along the engineer's access point. The view of the city from this high up was breath taking. The last time she had been this way was when Angela died. The anger and pain of her mother's loss had dulled to a throb over the years. She still remembered the cool comfort of the metal struts when she had felt all alone in the world. The bridge hadn't changed much in those years and she found the scenario all to familiar, if she wasn't already numb she might have cried.
The wind came screaming across the river, whipping her hair into a short, dark flurry. She relit her cigarette and tried to still the turmoil in her head. There was one big difference this time, this time she wasn't living with a 50/50 chance. No, thanks to Dr. Wilson she knew with 100% certainty that her father's darkness was now her own. She continued along the rickety causeway, coming to the end she eased through a gap in the safety rails and pressed against the highest point of the bridge. She eased further along the ledge, marvelling at the wide expanse of river far below her.
Rachel crouched low, keeping her back to the wind, she was going to fly off that bridge of that she was certain but it would be in her own time and not because a gust blew her off balance. Lowering herself to sitting she nestled against a support strut and listened to the traffic noises below her. Pale thin fingers pulled the bottle of vodka and a small cell phone from her bag. She threw with all her strength and watched the cell phone glint against the setting sun as it hurled towards the calm water below.
*
Garfield reset the table for the hundredth time. His 5 course vegetarian masterpiece was done and the wine was chilling. He just needed the girl and his perfect night would be complete. He flexed to one knee then the other, trying to select the right approach. The modest conflict free diamond and walnut ring was tucked safely against his chest. Tonight would be perfect, he made sure of that. He was freshly shaved and his blonde hair styled just how Rachel liked it. When Rachel came through that door she was going to have the most amazing birthday surprise ever.
She had been in one of her low moods this morning. Not even her favorite tea had teased out a smile but their goodbye kiss had made him hopeful. She had pressed her lips against him almost desperately and when she looked at him her blue eyes shone with a curious intensity. "Gar, always remember I love you." she whispered before closing the door. "Always." The words weren't strange but the sense of finality tugged at the back of Garfield's mind for the rest of the day. He had a fleeting feeling of dread but dismissed the feeling as nerves and once again reset the table, moving an unlit candle a half centimetre to the left. Tonight was going to be perfect.
*
Victor swung a hard left as Richard scanned the bridge in the distance. It was Victor's turn to drive. "It's not the end of the world, Richard."
"I know but Kori doesn't have a job and mine isn't enough to support a new baby and Kori's school fees." Richard continued. "We're barely scraping along as it is." The young man, glanced from one end to the other binoculars in hand. They were the closest patrol car when some old man who was "birdwatching" reported suspicious activity on the bridge.
"You have options you now, as long as you're breathing there is hope." Victor said and Richard nodded slowly in agreement. "There's always Bruce." Victor almost whispered. He didn't have to look at Richard to know what response that name generated. The clenched jaw and narrowed eyes automatically followed his mention. Richard 's silence was also expected. Victor groaned. In some circumstances his young partner was frustratingly predictable. "You know he'd help you out..."
"I see it." Richard said. Tone cold and professional putting a close to any further personal conversation. "First strut on the left. Definitely a jumper." Victor turned to look out his window. With mechanical precision he determined the shortest route to the access ladder and rammed down on the gas.
*
Another call straight to voicemail and Garfield was two steps away from panicking. He was really trying not to be a clingy boyfriend but it had been three hours since Rachel was due home and she was never late. Ever.
Switching tactics he called her workmate.
"Hey Stace, this is Garfield." he hoped his voice didn't betray his fear.
"Hey, Garfield, what's up?" Stacie's bubbly voice calmed him slightly.
"Just wondering if you were still at the office." he stammered. There was a pause, it was common knowledge that the newly divorced Stacie barely ever left the office.
"Yes, I am." she replied, "Why? Did Rachel forget something?"
"No, no nothing like that." Gar felt his heart sinking, "I was just trying to contact her, can you tell me when she left."
"Since lunch, she took an early day." whatever Stacie said next was lost to Gar, his trembling hands lowered the phone as he preprocessed this new information.
*
A sharp creak caught her attention, Rachel swung her head to meet the noise. Her vision blurred slightly and she rubbed her eyes in a vain attempt to focus. Her body tensed when she saw him. A young dark haired man peering across at her from the engineers walkway she had used a few hours ago.
"Hey, I won't hurt you." He raised his hands and came closer to the end of the walkway. "I am Officer Grayson of the Jump City PD." Her grip tightened around the nearly empty bottle of vodka and she contemplated her chances of hitting his head from this distance.
"Go away." she hissed before closing her eyes and taking another puff on her cigarette.
Richard, eased closer. He wasn't sure what to expect when he got up here but the pale, thin woman sitting barefoot in a pile of cigarette butts and clutching a bottle of vodka was not it."Whatever the problem is." He spoke as he slid even closer, "This isn't the answer."
Eyes still closed the woman's lips quirked upwards in a dark smile.
"How would you know?" she asked. Richard had no answer for her question. In response he pulled himself through the gap in the safety rail and out onto the ledge. It was a reckless move and he knew it. All of his training told him the high winds and the unstable woman who may or may not be armed was too much of a risk but his heart told him to try. He crouched low along the ledge, glancing down and feeling instantly dizzy. He turned to look at the woman. Her eyes now focused on him. They were dark blue almost purple, rimmed in red and dry. In another setting he might have considered her beautiful. Here her angular features brought to mind a doll or a glass figurine, something fragile and breakable. She frowned, "Please go back to the safety rail. I don't want to hurt anyone else."
"The only way I go back is if you come with me." Richard said. He knew back up was on the way. Victor was seeing to that. The tall black man was probably only a few feet away, taser poised and ready.
"Another step and I jump" she spoke softly and leaned forward. Her body swayed unsteadily and Richard froze. The woman had a peculiar habit of twitching and grimacing at random intervals, he wondered what drugs she was on. It was an unfamiliar restlessness he couldn't place.
"Ok, ok. I'm stopping. Right here." he lowered himself onto the ledge and leaned his weight towards the braced side. "You can call me Richard, What's your name?"
"Look here, Dick." she spat, "My name doesn't matter. I'm going to kill myself, whether you like it or not." She flicked the butt into the darkness. "So you can save us both a lot of time and head back to your friend waiting over there." Richard was shocked she could see Victor in her state. His partner was tucked in the shadow of the engineers walkway. Richard watched her right leg twitch and he felt an irrational anger rising in his chest. Here he was risking his life for someone who flat out didn't want to be saved.
"You know, what you're doing is incredibly selfish." Richard snapped.
"Selfish? Like father, like daughter." She snarled.
Richard growled,"You're young, you have your whole life ahead of you and this is a slap in the face to everyone that cares about you."
The woman glared back, a miriad of emotions flitting across her face before she schooled her features into a tight emotionless mask.
"You don't know anything about my future. You just don't understand." She closed her eyes again.
"Then help me understand. What is so terrible you feel you have to kill yourself." Richard asked his anger cooling. Rachel's hand twitched again, she slowly lit another cigarette before turning to face Richard.
"I am becoming my father." She said simply, leaving the statement to hang between them a few moments. It made no sense but Richard did not interrupt he sensed more words would follow. Rachel issued a thick stream of smoke into the air.
"Suppose," she began, "Suppose you had a terrible disease, with a fifty percent chance of passing it onto your children?" she paused, "would you still have children, even if it might mean dooming them to losing their minds and a slow death? Would you at least tell your partner so you could decide if to take those odds as a couple?"
Richard could only blink. She continued without waiting for his answer. "I watched my Father be taken over by this darkness. Darkness he knew he had but didn't tell my mother about until after I was born." Rachel's voice cracked.
"Imagine living your whole life being told you had a fifty percent chance of reaching a certain age and starting to breaking down. Feeling like every birthday was a step closer to the edge." She was trembling now, voice strained and controlled. "I watched him, watched him break apart and hurt everyone around him. Watched him beat my mother senseless and all she would say is, its the Huntington's he can't help it."
She felt as if something inside had rocked loose. She had never even told Gar the full story and here she was spewing her issues onto a perfect stranger. It didn't matter though she would end this soon. "It started with the twitching, he'd be doing something perfectly normal and just start twitching. Doctors call it chorea, a dance." she licked her lips, "Next was the anger. He got so angry and he started drinking. By the time the seizures started Angela was long gone and I was on my own." she took a long drag on the cigarette.
She extended her arm towards Richard and glared at it, her dark eyebrows furrowed and blue eyes fixed on her fingers. It twitched a few times before she lowered it."When I started twitching two months ago I ignored it. Just said I was tired or something cause people my age don't get symptoms. I thought I am too young to do this dance." She pulled a torn envelope from her bag, "The proof is in here. I lost the coin toss." she waved it around a few times and flicked it into the dark. "Rachel Roth, proud carrier of the expanded huntington's gene and future Huntington's disease sufferer." She pressed her fists to her eyes rubbing at tears that wouldn't fall. "There is no cure, nothing to slow it down. My life is over, whether or not I jump tonight."
"There is always hope. As long as you're breathing there is hope." Richard began. "You don't have to die now, at least enjoy the time you have left. Enjoy the people you have left. Trust me what you're planning to do would hurt them more that seeing you sick." Rachel shook her head, her cigarette lying forgotten at her side.
"No. I don't want to lose myself. I don't want to be my father."She lowered her chin to her chest and thought of Gar's green eyes, toothy grin and devotion. If she stuck around he would be there, forever tied to her, sacrificing his dreams for her sake. "I can't go through that and I would never put my loved ones through that."
"Tell me about them," Richard switched tactics, "Tell me about your loved ones." He could hear the sirens in the distance and eased closer to Rachel.
"There is only one," Rachel sighed, "The most beautiful man I have ever met, Gar...and he deserves more than I can give him."
*
Gar left the park behind the animal shelter, the last of Rachel's quiet places that he knew of. He had called all of her work mates, her few friends and even the convent she spent her late teens in. He called her cell again and unsurprisingly was met with her voice mail message. He had left five already and a dozen text messages. Rachel was usually quick about replying and she was too organised to have her phone die on her. Gar knew something was seriously wrong. The police had already told him she wasn't a missing person until 24hours had passed. He had called three of the four hospitals asking about dark haired Jane Does and he was no closer to finding Rachel. He had even checked the cemetery, sometimes, Rachel would spend hours at her mother's grave site and lose track of time. It had happened once before they were officially a couple and she had never told him why.
Pumping his legs faster, the bridge loomed into view, the first thing he noticed was the obscene line of traffic and the police barriers. He dodged to the pedestrian side only to be met by a solid barricade. The crowd was writhing around him. "what's going on?" he asked a red headed teen nearby.
"Jumper." He replied casually. "The cops have the whole bridge closed."
"Thanks man." Gar made a bee line for the first officer he saw. "good evening officer."
"Stand back sir."
"I just need to cross the bridge."
"You and half the city. Just wait until the situation is diffused."
"but."
Garfield slumped against the barricade an overwhelming hopelessness pressing against him. He didn't know where to go next. He lay his hand across his shirt pocket, the warm walnut ring offered little comfort.
*
"Kori sounds great." Rachel said softly. "She's beautiful." She passed the wallet back to Richard and rest her head against the support strut behind her. Richard had managed to ease within inches of her and had countered her stories of Gar with a running commentary about his own life. "Richard, what's it going to take for you to go back down that ladder?" Rachel began. The thought of the young officer endangering his life for her was filling her with an unsettling guilt.
"I told you before." Richard's electric blue eyes never left her face, "The only way I'm going down that ladder is if I'm following you. This is your choice, be a coward or fight with all the hope and dignity I know you have." his voice was firm and earnest as he extended his hand. He could hear Victor feet away hissing into the radio.
Rachel glared at the fingers stretched out towards her. She thought of her mother who had succumbed to her crushing depression and she thought of her Father, lying helpless in an institution near the end. She was just like them and doomed to repeat their mistakes. Or was she? maybe Richard was right, maybe she could fight this. At least she could tell Gar.
"Fine." she wrapped her cold fingers around his warm forearm. "Tonight I'll fight." Richard's grin could have lit up the sky.
"That's great Rachel." He pulled her closer, holding the strut behind him firmly. "Great." he whispered into her hair as he pulled her against him. She closed her eyes and listened to the movement around her. Richard eased them towards the safety rail.
*
Gar heard the voice before he saw anything. A soft whispered, "Thank you officer." that floated across from the ambulance, cutting through the din and shook him from his thoughts. Springing to life he ran closer. "Rachel." his voice raw and rattling. He couldn't understand she was the jumper? He knew she was sad but suicidal? She turned to meet him. Sadness and guilt shining in her eyes. In that moment the disappointment faded and the only thing Gar could feel was thankful that she was still here. She was flanked by two tall officers and wrapped in a reflective blanket. The crush of journalists and onlookers swirled around them.
"Gar."her voice low. "I'm sorry."
He pushed closer then in a sudden burst he dodged two burly officers and wrapped her in his arms. The smell of alcohol, tobacco and sandal wood overpowering him as he held her close. He could feel her body trembling against his. He held tight aware of the officers moving to separate them, "Rachel, always remember that I love you. Always." He pressed his lips to hers and the world faded away.
*
*Huntington's disease (HD) is a neurodegenerative genetic disorder that affects muscle coordination and leads to cognitive decline and psychiatric problems.
The disease can affect both men and women. The disease is caused by an autosomal dominant mutation in either of an individual's two copies of a gene called Huntingtin, which means any child of an affected person typically has a 50% chance of inheriting the disease. Physical symptoms of Huntington's disease can begin at any age from infancy to old age, but usually begin between 35 and 44 years of age. Through genetic anticipation, the disease may develop earlier in life in each successive generation.
The earliest symptoms are often subtle problems with mood or cognition. A general lack of coordination and an unsteady gait often follows. As the disease advances, uncoordinated, jerky body movements become more apparent, along with a decline in mental abilities and behavioral and psychiatric problems. Physical abilities are gradually impeded until coordinated movement becomes very difficult. Mental abilities generally decline into dementia. Complications such as pneumonia, heart disease, and physical injury from falls reduce life expectancy to around twenty years after symptoms begin. There is no cure for HD, and full-time care is required in the later stages of the disease. Existing pharmaceutical and non-drug treatments can relieve many of its symptoms.
- Above excerpt from wikipedia.