Marvin stares down at Jack's bed as the endless beeping of the heart monitor fills the silence.
Beep…beep…beep.
He doesn't know why he's here, what brought him here. If Henrik was here he'd probably tell him that it was natural. That wanting to see him, be with him, was natural regardless of how he felt.
But Henrik wasn't here and that was part of the problem, wasn't it?
"I hate you." The words are filled with so much venom he might as well be a snake. "I hate you so much. If it weren't for you, Henrik would be here right now. If it weren't for you, Chase would be happy. If it weren't for you, Jackie would be home right now instead of running himself ragged trying to fix the mess you created."
Bee̘̩p…beep…bee̸p.
In a way, it feels good. Saying all of this felt good. It didn't matter if Jack could hear him or not, it didn't matter if Jack couldn't defend himself from it. Finally letting all of those thoughts pour out of him instead of suppressing them and pretending they didn't exist felt good. "If it weren't for you, Anti wouldn't exist. What were you thinking, bringing him to life? What the hell were you thinking?"
Maybe that one wasn't so true. At least not fully. But it was easier than admitting that Jack wasn't at fault for it all. "If it weren't for you, none of this would have happened."
B̛̦̻̜eep…bee͜p…beep.
God what was he doing: venting at a comatose man? He'd never get a response, even if Jack would remember or hear any of this at all. There was no answers to be found here.
…Did it matter, though? Did he even want answers? Did he?
With a sigh he slips off his mask. He stares down at it, at the one item that secured his identity. He was a magician, not a nobody, with this mask on. But keeping it on now was stifling.
The mask drops from his fingers, clattering against the ground. He can't bring himself to care.
His head hurts.
B҉e͞ep…beep…͝b͢eep̨.̸
"What were you thinking…?" He presses the palms of his hands against his forehead, pain throbbing under his touch. "Bringing Jameson into this hell, what were you thinking?" A pause, "Did you even do that?"
He could never question that at home; Chase would kill him if he did. Chase loved him too much, just as he loved the rest of them. Jameson was family to him from the moment he was born, after all.
Bee͟p͢…̷be̡ep͟.͝..͏beep.̶
Electricity sparks in the air, dances all around him. But he doesn't care. He just laughs. It's bitter and pitched and rough in his throat and his nerves are chafed at the sound of it. But he can't help it. Can't help it as all of that bitterness and jealousy and anger builds and builds and builds and then only bubbles over when he can't take it anymore. "Why do I even bother? You don't care about how I feel. You never did. Hell, everyone was born with a name while I was just…there."
"T̮̱̖̗͚͙ͅh̖̣̝̖͎͎a͚̪̩͔͙t̗'͎̭̫͇s ̯̦̳r̥͉̫i̺̻g͔̟̜͙h͎͍̩̮̺̰̳t͙̗̭,͓̬̝̤͔ ̻̯̻͎̫͍͓Ma̺̳̗̹̖̙ͅg̳̮͚̹̥̹̭i̹͇̯̟̰͈c͓͉̦i͓̞̠̗̙̯a̼͈̯̬̪̲n̳.̩̭̮͙̻͓ ̹͓̰̼H̠e͕̙̥̗ ̥͖̗̗d͉id̪̠̰̯n͎͚̹͈̘̪'̥t̖̥̬̱̘͕ ̻̣ev̞e̺͈̣͈̱n̮ ͖̠̣̲͚̬̰kn̫̪̤͈̫̪ow͙̝̭̤ ̟͍yo̜̹̱̬̥̪̲u̗̻̤̰̞̠ ͕̪̦͇̬̟e͔̳̩̩̟̣x̜̮͙̮̱i̜͎͙̘st̟̖̳̮e͔̪̙̣̺d͈̟,͙͎͔̤̹̞ͅ ̞͓̰d̟͎̗̗i͔̘̞͕d͍̫̗ ̫̭̼h͓̮̩̘͓͔̮e͈̥̦̗̩̭ͅ?̙͍̟͉̤̳"͎͔̭̻̦̬̟
In a right state of mind, he'd argue back. In a right state of mind, he wouldn't listen to Anti's obvious bait. In a right state of mind, he would cast a spell of protection on both him and Jack.
B̻̭̜̦̭̮ḙ̥e̟p.͍̝̯̤̲..͍͔b̝̮̹̖͍e̳e̜̹̻p̥..͓̪.̹̗͇b̭e̩̥͚̻͖̖ḛ͍p.̥
But he wasn't in a right state of mind, for if he had been he wouldn't be here at all. "No. It took months." And even then- Even then it– "It took enough fans acknowledging me for him to realize that I was even here at all."
"H̯̖̹̙̟ow͏ ͙̩͕̜̘̙s̲͓̻̯̯̱ḁ͔͢d҉̺͔.͢ ̣̥̩̱͉͝B̜̰̘̱̤u̟͓͙͙͖ṱ̘͚ ̻̜y̦ͅo̸͙̞̦͓̝̮u̹̠̩ ̙̗̮k̙͍n͖̯̙ow̩̞̠̯̘̠ͅ-̟-͏̝̙̥̳̟̦"̟͚̱̰ ̭̥̞̦̩̞̕ Fingers creep around his shoulders, gripping his skin. The touch isn't entirely corporeal, but all the same it holds enough strength to keep him still– "̙Ḥ͓̱͉̮̰̯e̖͓͙̝̖'̪͎̫s̱̹̪̼̟̹̣ ̘̮̼̦̯̰̱s̬̮o͚̫̬̘ v͉̼u̠̼̥̘̯̩̫l͔ner̤̜̦͈͙a̙ͅb͍͕͖̤l̰e̗͚̗̻.̥̦̦̫ ͅY͖͍̻͚o͖̱̫̣̲̲̙u̖̪̭̣ ̤c̟̻̣̦̗oul̥d ͓̤̺͕̹ge̱̠͓͖̰t͔͖ ̯̱̘̹̞͎b͙̜͈̱ac̞̮k̻̦ ̩̘͉͎̭a͙̹t̞ ͇̠̖̯h͇̘͕̞̖̻i͙͈m̠̩̯̹͕͓ͅ ̹͙f̣or ̤̝̱a̱͍͓l̤̣l̹̜̠ ͎͉͍͙tḫ͍e̠̗̠̹̣̦ ̲pa̪in̹̺̙̫͎͈̲ ̲̩̻͍̥h̩͉̺̝̯ͅe͕̲̳̱'̘̜͈̺s͕̪͎̫͖ ̭͉̘c̤͕̹̳͈a̱̮u͕͚͔s͔̙̖͙̬̺e͈͕d̞̞͔ ̮͉͓̥̞̞y̘͖o̞̟͔u̼̻ ̠̜a̺͚̠̯n̠͉̳̙̳̙d ͉h̦͓e̼̻̼̺̹ ̝̲̼͕̗c̘o͍ṳ̤̼ͅḻ̠d͍̹ͅn̬̖̜͖̺͇'̲̝͕t̹̺͓̟̝̮ ͕͕͔ͅe̩̟̼̳̳͖͉ve̼̠̪n̫̮̩͉̮̙ ͙̙̻̣̱f̮̞̻i̗̬̤͙̦gh̦̝̺t̰̳̝̼͖ ͎͍͕̭̝̼b̤̗̲̲̞̼ḁ͚̳̗͉̟͔c͉k̲̯.͍̝"̟͎̮̟̼̥
He knows this. He knows this he knows this he knows this. It would be so easy to just cast a curse on him, or to physically harm him. Tear out his IVs, the ventilator, take him off life support. It was so so so easy. So incredibly, and terrifyingly, easy.
And yet….
B̮e͈͔e̙̱͕p̦̥̹̲͈͉.̬̻̹̩̬.͈͓͓̳.̝̥͖̭̣͙b̯̹ͅe͓̰͈̗ep͚̠͔̗̹…beep͝.
And yet he can't.
Marvin backs up, forcing himself out of Anti's hold, and into the wall behind him. (Was Anti even here? Or was this a projection he created?) His thoughts are unrecognizable; bitterness churning out toxic thought after toxic thought. But they weren't his. Not all of them.
Because, in the end, as much as he wanted to, he didn't hate Jack.
No matter how angry or bitter or jealous he could be, he could never hate Jack. Without him he wouldn't exist. Without him, his family wouldn't exist. Without him, he wouldn't be able to perform magic at all. Without him Chase wouldn't have three beautiful children whom he adored. Without him, Jackie wouldn't have superpowers, wouldn't be able to save those in need as he likes. Would be forced to watch helplessly as those around him suffer. Without him, Henrik wouldn't be a doctor at all. Without him, Jameson wouldn't exist to brighten their day with his exaggerated energy.
So even if there are days, so so many days, where his bitterness gets the best of him, he could never hate him.
Beep…beep…beep.
Anti snarls, the electric hum from earlier increasing ten-fold–
Magic evaporates him and it in an instant, a sparkling display of red and green. "So you were a projection after all." He laughs again, regretful that he had even considered stooping so low as to let himself be manipulated by it. He then looks at Jack, Jack whom still slept on ignorant to everything, and says, "I'll see you later, Jack."
Just like Marvin, the mask on the ground disappears not even a moment later, leaving Jack alone in his comatose state.