They had taken him to New Arkham. Of course they had. They'd never take him to somewhere like their base. Although they seemed to be talking about taking him to their base after his psych eval. Didn't they know he kind of rocked those? He could manipulate the test and get out early. He knew the system. But it was sort of nice they were talking to each other in front of his room-yes, room, at least they'd given him that much-while they argued. Most of them had taken off their masks and helmets. Might as well, he'd named them in an act of angry defiance when they'd thrown him into his little asylum room. He'd pieced it together. Terry wasn't all-knowing but he'd known enough people, which had gotten quite a few people ticked off at the actual all-knowing mastermind, Terry's mentor.
The old man was glaring at him currently. Various heroes did at various moments in time. Terminal had a feeling this wing was reserved specifically for their catches so to speak. He seemed to be the only person here that he could see. He didn't know where Inque was, Melanie was hopefully out of this godforsaken city with her pretty brother. The twins were in different cities, lying low until they could safely come back. He didn't know where the Splicers were, or many of them. He'd driven many but the oldest villains, or the most slippery out. Most people couldn't handle Gotham. He couldn't see the little people get hurt, not anymore. They joined him or they got the fuck out. Or they got trampled and he wasn't to blame. But, he was the only one in this wing he could see.
"You know you probably can never be released again, right?"
"Oh, I don't know. You could wipe my memory of Terry's babbling. It'd solve your problem pretty fucking fast"
The old man had a look of momentary grief and then it went back to the stoic stare. Terminal sighed. There was so much history with these people he just wasn't allowed to know. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, but it would contextualize everything. He wanted to put pieces together so he didn't keep stepping on toes with these people. He didn't want to please, but he certainly wasn't looking to hurt. He was well aware they could do something to him if he wasn't careful. But how could he be careful if he was walking in a landmine field blindfolded?
Terminal turned his head towards the wall and jiggled his knee as he leaned against the bed. The old man continued to stare at him. "You were Batman a really long time" Terminal commented offhandedly. "That's cool, I guess. How do you feel about Terry replacing you?"
"Careful, as the wizard said, don't look at the man behind the curtain"
Terminal snorted slightly. "So you're the one pulling the strings? But as far as I'm concerned, it's Terry throwing the punches, Terry deciding on mercy or mayhem. Not you. Not anymore. You just sit in the chair and watch your gopher live a life you wish you still could" The glare intensified. Jesus, was this the infamous Batglare? No wonder so many lost their shit in the past. It was disconcerting.
"You're lucky I'm not in there" was finally said and Terminal sighed.
"Yea, I guess I am. I know you'd probably reduce me to a quivering ball of raw emotion. But I wouldn't tell you anything you don't already know. I know who many of you are. I didn't hurt Terry, I would never knowingly hurt Terry"
"The question is why, isn't it?"
Terminal closed his eyes wearily as the old man left. Why he'd done it was nobody's business. Why he cared about Terry when Terry had visited Willie and not him was nobody's business. Terry was kind. Terry genuinely loved and cared about everyone. He had cared about Terminal and given him his condolences when he didn't get the valedictorian position. Terminal didn't blame him for this situation that they were currently in. He did deserve this. Terry's hate was earned. And yet...Terry smiling. Those blue eyes looking at him the way they had looked at Dana. The way they now looked at Rex. Fuck it. Terry looking at Rex, curled in his arms. Terry doing things with him. Did they like reading together, or playing video games? Did They go walking or stay home? Did they live together? They did look great together. Rex deserved Terry far more than Terminal did. Rex probably didn't have an abusive mother who'd probably try to verbally flay Terry alive. If she were even still alive. But back then, when he had a chance. But then, Dana had been a thing.
"I can smell gears almost. You plotting an escape?"
Terminal laughed. Short and humorless.
"Nah. I wouldn't make it out the door without you people fucking me up. You took my guns, my knives, my smoke bombs and joker gas pellets. You even took my fucking clothes"
"The clothes are standard here. You are a patient"
"I'm a prisoner"
Terminal got up off the bed and walked to a maskless Rex. He was handsome. Not pretty. He was one of those rugged lookers you just wanted to sweep you off your feet. Terminal got the sense in different circumstances he'd probably crush on the civilian form of Warhawk. But an armoured hand punching you in the jaw really hurts and Warhawk had always been one of the more brutal people in the Justice League.
"I get the sense you like cowboy hats, and the armor is because of your heritage and not because you are a medieval reenactment fantatic" he said thoughtfully, more to himself than to Rex. Warhawk. Rex. God this was confusing. But he was really trying to see this man as a person because he was with Terry. To hell with the others, Rex only mattered because he was with Terry. And Terminal had every reason to suspect Rex was here because he was trying to understand why Terry hated Terminal. Hell, a file that said criminal routinely sanitized under their noses was hardly anything to go off of. Rex tilted his head.
"You do that a lot, don't you? Make theories to try and understand people, or categorize them in your head"
Terminal shrugged.
"It saves time and sometimes lives. Half the time I'm wrong but you seem the country boy type. Maybe not liking the music per se, but I could see you rocking a rodeo" He only got a long look in return.
"If you're wondering. I did try to kill Maxine. And whatever reason I give will probably seem petty. People say I'm crazy. I'm...not...exactly. I'm bipolar. I go through manic episodes. Maxine was an unfortunate case of…" he couldn't admit about his mother. He literally could not speak about his mom. Not to Ghoul, not to Deidre, not to the counselor at his therapy sessions. He was just acting out. He sighed. "An unfortunate case of a manic depressive episode, a thing I thought was guaranteed to be mine was not. And the fact that I was putting myself to impossible standards I knew I couldn't reach so I lived a double life"
"It wasn't all you, was it? You don't wake up deciding 'I'm going to become one of the Jokerz. I'm going to murder people because I don't get my way.' I did not become who I am because soley because I wanted to. I was raised to be this" Dark eyes seared into Terminal's and Terminal had to use all his self control to not double over like he'd been punched. No indication could be given how close to being right Rex was.
"Untreated mental illness can do a lot, make otherwise perfectly normal people do unspeakable acts. It's not always nurture versus nature. It's just genetics" There was a tilt of the head and nothing more. It unsettled Terminal.
"Do you see yourself as Terminal, or Carter?"
"Did Terry ask you to ask me all this?"
Anger was safe. He made himself feel angry when all he really felt was tired, defeated. Was it the old man who was feeding them this information? It probably was. He seemed to have god-like knowledge of everything, why did Terminal think he was any different? That he could outwit the original Batman?
"Are you-"
"Go back to Terry. Just-stop. Stop"
This time Rex did smile. It was small, but smug. Challenging. "And if I don't?"
Terminal shook his head and retreated back to the bed and curled up, his back away from the man. He couldn't fight, or try to kill and yelling just wasn't worth it. What were they trying to do? Make him have a break down?
"Carter"
Terminal growled and got up again, his gut twisting in anxiety and anger. He hadn't wanted to hurt anyone this time why was he being punished? Why was this happening?
"I didn't like you, you know. I don't care about heroes. They never helped me. They never did anything for me. But Terry. Terry without his mask did more good than the old man he gophers for. Maybe that was on orders but hell. He helps people. And he's kind. Usually. You? You sit here and ask questions I know are designed to hurt me, even though you aren't acting like your usual asshole self. He brings out the best in you or you would have been in here trying to break me with fists. The only reason I'm not screaming in anger? Is because I still respect and care for Terry. I want him to be happy. I think he's happy with you, I hope so" All he got in return for this was narrowed eyes. He took a deep breath and continued.
"Your parents made you what you are. Your mother was known for senseless violence, but she tried to be a kind woman. Your father was not a pacifist by any stretch of the term, though severe personality, but he was every inch a green lantern. You got fake wings because you couldn't earn a ring. You became your mother's son with a bitter and angry personality because you couldn't live up to the man your father was"
A fist slammed against the window, making it shake and Terminal knew he was right. Or at least somewhere in the ballpark. Rex looked enraged.
"Do people hate you? I mean, when they know you aren't totally human? Because you look human. If it weren't for your parents claiming you as theirs when you became a hero, I'd never had known" which was years ago. Rex had to be in his mid thirties. Terry was twenty two and Maxine and Terminal a year older. Rex's eyes flickered, his jaw muscles worked. Terminal took a step closer. "People hate you before they even know who you are as a hero, don't they? They hate your mom. And no matter how much you say 'I'm not like the Thanagarians' most people don't believe you" Rex bared his teeth in anger, eyes glaring out at Terminal. Terminal offered a small smile.
"I wonder why it was so easy to forgive you, and not me? Maybe because, you didn't actually do anything. And, Terry never met the people your mother's species directly affected, the species who I bet you've never met and probably could never speak to in their native tongues even if you did, if they'd speak to you at all" Rex's anger seemed to melt out of him. Terminal shrugged.
"Is that why you're here? Because you think we're alike? Unlike you, I was never given a chance to be better. Nobody had faith in me. Your parents believed in you being better than anything that came before. Terry loves you and I do think that, I've never seen you together for more than a few moments, but I do think that. However, life always comes back to Nature vs Nurture, and sometimes crazy just...rewrites all that"
"Your group believes in you"
Terminal nodded. "They have always been the only ones. Besides Terry. Everyone else was just masks in a play. My group was real. Terry was real. I latched onto Terry" He gave a short laugh. "That fairytale creature that just...should not be touched. Not be approached. I'm happy though. I don't need Terry to be happy. He's a fantasy. I made him my fantasy and he's a real person and I shouldn't have done that. But see, I don't need Terry. I have my group, I have my kingdom, I have Deidre and Ghoul and I'm happy" his face softened. "Cedar is turning three in two weeks. I was going to give him a magic set, he always does love anything to do with magic"
He probably shouldn't have mentioned the kid. It's his group's biggest secret. The great-grandson of Joker and Harley. Harley loved her great-grandson. She understood though that they couldn't keep him in Gotham. Terminal couldn't afford to let his son be in danger simply by being there, and the fact that he was the Joker's great-grandchild only made Terminal worried that the damn heroes or government would take the boy away. Rex looked suitably confused.
"Who's Cedar?"
"My son"
It was okay to mention that, he supposed, so long as he never spoke of Cedar's mother. Rex looked like a goldfish and Terminal resisted the urge to laugh.
"I moved on, okay? I have a son I can't see often because of what I do" his face further softened. "But to him, I'm not a hero. Or a villain. I'm just dad. And I love that. I don't need to earn his love. I just need to focus on making sure he's happy and never scared. He likes Descendants, he wants to be like Uma. He had a crush on a boy in preschool named Oscar, and thought a girl in class looked like Wonder Woman, and thought she was pretty last time I was able to see him. I don't care who he loves or what he grows up to be, I just want Cedar safe and happy" there was a look he didn't understand on Rex's face. He looked away.
"Don't"
"Don't what? Lie? I'm not. Don't stop talking? I don't know what you want to hear, so I'm sort of running out of things to say. I didn't spare Terry in an ulterior motive, I honestly didn't know he would tell me all that. I just wanted to help. Because he didn't want to die, and later it was because it was Terry"
"Were you going to see him? This son? Is that where you were headed?" Terminal hesitated but nodded.
"I trusted Ghoul to take care of our empire while I was gone, maybe aggravate idiots in media or the government. I do like poking fun at everyone's shortcomings, and so does Ghoul. Ghoul knows perfectly well what I wanted to do, just hang out with the kid for a few weeks. I haven't seen him in person since summer. He misses me" Rex tilted his head.
"You're a pretty convincing liar"
Terminal gave a twisted smile and inclined his head. "Leave. And go tell Terry to suck you off. You seem unreasonably angry"
The anger was back in Rex's face. He started smiling and held up one hand, the hand that had been kept by his side the whole time. In it was a passkey. Terminal's stomach clenched. He began backing away as Rex stalked towards his door.
"No, I'm sorry. Don't"
"You don't know what I'm going to do"
There were a lot of things Terminal could guess Rex was going to do. But with his own comment, most probably received as a defiant challenge, he could make a pretty good guess what Rex wanted to do. It made no sense. Rex had never seemed like this sort of bully, he just seemed single minded and angry.
"Don't hurt me" Terminal felt himself falling into his old stance, his broken self that he'd tried to fix. Why was it so easy to become the victim? He could hold his own against Ivy who was basically asking for the same thing. But Rex. Rex was terrifying. Why? The door opened and Terminal's back hit the wall. He slid down into a sitting position and curled up with his knees and arms protectively against his torso. Rex just walked closer with horrid promise. Terminal knew that Rex was his build, roughly, and only had about an inch, maybe an inch and a half, on him. Terminal also knew how to handle opponents with weight and height advantages. So why was this terrifying?
Because there was that thought that Terry had put this man up to this. Terry was so full of hate he'd compel his partner to hurt somebody. It didn't sound like Terry. Or most of the heroes for that matter. Maybe one or two, but Terminal wasn't certain. And not like this. This? This was something his mother would probably do. Not to him, but certainly to people she'd have thought he liked, leading them to believe he'd been behind it and leading him into a life of isolation.
Rex approached him, knelt down and ran a calloused hand through his hair. Terminal didn't dare turn his head or close his eyes. That hand could very well close and pull and make him hurt. It was gentle. And Terminal's heart ached for it. He liked Terry and Rex, together. He wasn't certain he liked Rex, he didn't know him really outside the Warhawk persona, and that persona was opinionated, bossy and violent. But Rex seemed kind. Why was this happening? His hands over his mouth were forced away and restrained and Rex leaned in.
"Daddy?"
He turned his head despite the tightening hand in his hair and stared at the child in confusion. What was Cedar doing here? His strawberry blond hair was a little too long and flopping over his eyes. One eye was blue like his mother's, the other was half dark brown almost black and half blue. It was disconcerting. He was clutching a doll. It was a raggedy Andy doll. Things weren't adding up. Raggedy Andy had been Terminal's favorite doll when he was a child, it had been passed down to him. His only connection to past family members besides his mother. He hadn't been allowed to take it when he was taken to prison, and when he came home, it was gone. That had been the night he killed his mother. The night he pushed her body over the ledge of the window to her room and watched her lifeless body fall, knowing she'd be ruled as a suicide. He'd left with no indication he'd been there at all. In his shock at seeing his old doll, his son, his body involuntarily relaxed and Rex pulled his legs down, spread them. Terminal tried to push him away with his freed hands but the hand in his hair pulled so hard and made him cry out.
"No, not here. He's a child-"
It was cut off with a brutal kiss, a hand invading his space and dipping below his pantsline, touching him intimately and Terminal tried to get away from the touch, but was literally pinned. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think.
"Enough"
It was a different voice. Female. Everything started dissolving. Suddenly, Terminal remembered, and it all made sense.
He was sitting in the chair, strapped in as the first time they'd tried this, at his own invitation, he'd involuntarily started self harming from the torment of his own mind. He was willing to let them see things they had, in conversation, agreed the heroes could know. What he hadn't counted on was a set of mental traps he hadn't known he'd made, for himself and whoever was questioning him. Miss Martian was the latest to try, and had been unable to actually do anything beyond initiate and end the session. John Constantine had been the first, and had been trapped in a survival horror game of twisted memories of Terminal's childhood, only the memories were made up of the heroes, and people Terminal knew. John had opted out trying again when he'd been forced to kill his daughter, in a reenactment of Terminal trying to kill Max. It was strange because Terminal also was there, with no memory of being at the hero's base. The person initiating the mind meld, as he called it, also forgot when they encountered him. When his panic got too much, things started fracturing and people suddenly remembered in time to get them out. Rose had gone in as well, and had undergone a similar thing as her father, though she had been the subject of tests with Terminal. It always took place in the asylum.
The Constantines had even commented that someone like him, with no training, couldn't possibly have that level of control over his mind without some form of deep insanity. But Terminal knew it wasn't something like schizophrenia, which he guessed some of them were considering. Unlike what people thought, he wasn't totally insane and rarely did things for no reason. He didn't fit the personality type of schizophrenics and paranoia wasn't part of his life. Hallucinations were not a thing either. Delusions, maybe, but that could come from many things.
The trips into his mind were always allowed and were always broadcast by the person initiating it, even if they weren't aware. So when Terminal caught sight of Rex looking fairly horrified, he turned away in shame. He knew that Rex would never, ever do that. Especially in front of a child. Or when the person was asking for him to stop. He didn't know him well, but it was a gut feeling. Terry wouldn't like someone who was that slimy. It was his deepest fears. That Terry would set Rex up to hurt him. Terry also looked horrified and, well, hurt. Yea, Terminal didn't doubt that would be seen as an insult.
"I suppose I should just tell you because obviously this isn't working" he finally said, shifting in the restraints as his face ached from the healing self imposed scratches, along his own eyes and cheeks. Some on his neck too.
"Would probably be best" Observed one of Terry's "family" dryly. He couldn't really tell the men apart. Bruce, whether he had slept with each of his "children" or not, certainly had a type when it came to picking them out. The only guy that wasn't blue eyed and caucasian was the dreadlocked Phillipino American man sitting there. The Signal, an immortal metahuman. One of the most powerful metas in existance. Terminal kept his distance from Signal, but they had mutual respect. Signal left the Jokerz alone for the most part, and Terminal sometimes left tipoffs for him about where some of the nastier things Signal was uniquely built to handle was.
"We now know you have a son. Is he intended to be the heir to your empire?"
A fair question. "I don't know. Maybe. If he wants it. I was actually in a mindset of; "I really want someone who will love me irrevocably and I want to have that challenge of living up to that love" and relaying that want to someone who had a similar dream. We weren't really, I dunno, more than physically attracted? But through Cedar, we've grown to be good friends"
"What are your alliances with the other villains?"
"Ivy wants sex with me, though I guess it's more from I'm young and I talk to her on a regular basis. Granted she poisons my people, but hey, semantics. I know I'm good looking, and it's common for people to try" his eyes slid to Rex who was cradling his face in a hand. It wasn't his fault. It was Terminal's construct of him in his mind. Terminal sighed. "I made myself scary with long hair and in a weird outfit so nobody would touch me. Because only really creepy or really desperate freaks try to sleep with horror monsters" he shrugged. "Penguin I work with, sometimes. I'm honestly surprised he's still alive. Mostly I move items through his area. Sometimes for Ivy, sometimes for me, sometimes even for him. He's not bad, if you know how to play nice. He likes manners above all. I don't wear my make-up when he's around, and he likes Cedar, the latest toy guns are from Penguin. Inque and I work well together, Willie Watt and I have history and he in equal parts hates me and tolerates me. Spellbinder and i have an agreement. I stay out of his part of the underground and he lets me ferry things through so long as I don't step on his turf. Fair enough. I don't know where the Royal Flush Gang is, so"
"Did someone touch you before?" It was Terry. Terminal frowned and closed his eyes. He had been wondering that. He was just good at burying things, it seemed.
"...Yes" it was coming slowly, but it was there. Freshman year. He'd been one of those kids who grew unevenly into his body. He was too big for his age and too long, though solid. But his face...he supposed that was what sold it. "Highschool. I was fourteen, maybe fifteen. I didn't see their face. I didn't hear a voice. I only smelled shower soap and we were both wet. I never said anything and there were no marks on me except some bruises on my hips"
"Am I interrupting something awful?" came a voice that conveyed boredom and sheer rage at the same time. Terminal looked over at Ghoul and tilted his head. He'd ask the hows later.
"Hey handsome" He said cheerfully as he could. Awful thing for Ghoul to walk in on. And shit, what was he thinking? Terminal was strapped down, had wounds on his face and neck, and probably looked worse than he actually felt. Ghoul shook his head and held up his hand. It held familiar pellets and Terminal's eyes widened. Ghoul had to be really ticked off to actually use Joker Gas pellets. Ghoul put oh his mask and threw his handful, Terminal taking a deep breath as they flew and Ghoul darted forward to free him. His hands were freed, and his torso, and then the narrow hands tugged on his more solid ones and he got up and ran as the heroes started laughing. His heart screamed. He hadn't wanted this, hadn't wanted to hurt anyone. Not this time. He looked over his shoulder, Terry and Rex were clinging to each other. He slipped from Ghoul's hand and took the two and began pulling them out of the room. The pellets were diluted, the lack of true potency made it delayed in permanency. They had two minutes before it did more lasting damage. When Terry and Rex recovered, they could better help the others. He pulled them out of the room and left them propped against the door before Ghoul grabbed him again. It was easy to get out. The heroes that were on guard duty were all knocked out and Jokerz were milling about. Terminal couldn't cry in front of his people, but he came close.
"Of all the stupid things, I will admit I'm not totally mad, you gave me the opportunity to get in and play around with their files and take information, though they don't have any real information on each other that I could see, and that's actually pretty smart" Terminal sat on the toilet and let Ghoul disinfect his wounds as he stared down at his hands. "But of all the stupid things. Why did you help Batman?"
"Personal trauma"
Ghoul stopped and looked at him, pausing to cup his cheek gently. Terminal didn't balk. Ghoul and he weren't partners in the romantic sense, didn't even see each other as "boyfriend material", but their interactions rose from mutual understandings of trust and knowing that if one needed that sort of touch, the other would be there without question.
"I never asked about your childhood or your "other life" in your teenage years. I don't hold the idiot thought that you'll ever tell me when you feel comfortable. We are as comfortable together as two people can be and we know nothing about each other's pasts. But you need to explain. Right now. What that means and why it caused this"
Terminal started trembling and blindly reached out his arms, to which Ghoul answered with a tight hug.
"I was verbally abused. Maybe not just. I don't know. There's such...gaps...in my memory. And then that incident when I was fourteen and I just forgot. And no matter how they tried, and I was willing to let them because I didn't want to talk, they couldn't get past a certain part of my mind. It was always Arkham. It was always twisted pieces of things that had happened, replaced with people in that room. I don't know what's going on. I can't remember making traps in my head, and that-it was too elaborate-I think I'm going crazy" tears were wetting Ghoul's shirt and it physically hurt to cry but he couldn't not cry. "They had to restrain me because I was ripping at myself trying to get out of my own mind"
Ghoul held him tighter. "Okay. This calls for movies. Thai food and movies" He said gently. The only room with a working tv was Terminal's room. Not really on purpose, but people seemed to like smashing them in their headquarters/flat and Terminal never let anyone into his room besides Ghoul and Deidre. Ghoul let him cry himself out however, and rubbed his back until he was okay enough to let go of Ghoul and stand up, rubbing at his face. Ghoul pulled out his phone and began dialing for the thai restaurant they loved and had thus spared because hell, Mama Anong had the best food and greatest smile. She always treated them like sons and not known crime lords. It was great. They walked into Terminal's bedroom, and suddenly Ghoul was on the floor, the door was swinging shut and a woman sitting in the dark on Terminal's bed was standing up.
"Carter Wilson. Long time. Killed any computer nerds lately?"
Carter inclined his head.
"Dana. I knew you had to have dumped him for a reason. Did you ever love him, or did you only date him to keep an eye on the city?"
A sharp pain to the back of his head and he collapsed beside Ghoul.
Why did this bad keep happening to him? And now he'd dragged Ghoul into his misery. Shit.
