Major Milestone Celebration! This fic has officially brought my total Word Count on AO3 to OVER ONE MILLION WORDS! (I already passed it on , due to three older fics that I never cross-posted.)
This is a start of what I'm calling a Short Story Sweep. For a while, now, I've been trying to prioritise my fics based on when a series was last updated (you know, unless the muse insists I work on a different one). I've still got that priority order listed, but for now, I'm going to be focusing on the stories that don't have that much work left to do, rather than longer ones that aren't even halfway done. This means that 'Moving On', which is currently at the top of the regular list, is going to wait a significant amount of time longer. I was also going to do 'To Trust Them' first, but I've hit a block on that, and the few ideas I do have tell me that it's going to be longer than I originally planned. So, my next priority was 'No Biting!' but tonight I had a burst of inspiration that got this one mostly finished first.
That said, this is not a Short Story. It isn't a one-shot, being six chapters long plus a short epilogue, but it only had a small amount of work left to do when I decided to focus on the shorter stuff, so I decided that it counted. The whole point of this Sweep is to knock as many of my in-progress fics off my to-do list as quickly as I can. I had most of this completed back in February, which was when the newer episodes of 'Young Justice', especially Gar's struggles, really got me into a 'Young Justice' angst headspace until I got stuck on Chapter 6 and my headspace shifted over to my newly-discovered love of 'The Walking Dead'. (Seriously, I never thought I would ever fall in love with a zombie-centred TV show.)
The epilogue isn't finished, but I expect it to be in the six weeks it'll take to get there.
Anyway, much like 'Giving In', this fic comes from the sentiment of oh-my-God-Jaime-goes-through-so-much-shit-how-is-he-even-functional-right-now? He was openly terrified as hell of the very idea of being put on-Mode, yet after 66 days (I counted) of the experience, his canon reaction and mental state just don't match up with what I'd expect from someone who's been living his literal worst nightmare for two months straight.
The story title and all the chapter titles come from lines in the song 'Crawling' by Linkin Park. It's not one of my favourite LP songs (as I prefer those of their songs that I can actually sing, not the ones that are mostly screaming, and this particular song is a medley of singing and screaming), but I find it fits well. A lot of people have different opinions on what the song is about, and while one of the more popular ones is that it's about drug addiction, I'm going with an anxiety/trauma interpretation.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'Young Justice' or any of its characters.
ADDITIONAL DISCLAIMER: I have no personal experience with PTSD or any related disorders, thankfully, and I know that every case is different, so please excuse any inaccuracies you may find if you are familiar with it. And on that note…
WARNING: This fic depicts Post-Traumatic Stress, depression, and various traumatic incidents that trigger them, including but not limited to: mind-control, frequent death threats against loved ones, violence, and near-death experiences. If any of these things trigger you, this fic may not be for you.
WORD COUNT: 1626
EL PASO
June 15, 01:06MDT
TEAM YEAR SIX
"Jaime, please, don't do this!"
The Superboy chokes on Kryptonite dust even as he pleads with his own killer.
"I know you're in there, Blue! Just-"
The Impulse is impaled on an arm-blade, which he does not even attempt to evade, so strong is his misplaced faith.
"How could you do this?! I thought you were my friend!"
The Tye Longshadow, slumped over the beaten corpse of the Asami Koizumi, weakly spits blood out of his mouth, just before the mace configuration crushes his face.
"Jaime?"
The Milagro Reyes simply stares up in confusion at the warrior looming over her as the plasma cannon fires.
"NO!"
In an ordinary house in El Paso, Texas, a strangled scream echoed through the air as a teenaged boy bolted up from his bed. Tears ran down his face, and he gasped for breath and stared at his sweaty, but bloodless hands.
"Jaime?"
Footsteps thundered from the opposite side of the bedroom door, and one of those hands (as well as his entire arm and shoulder) was suddenly covered in blue and black metal, which formed into a glowing weapon and aimed at the doorway, the boy's eyes wide with terror.
"Mijo, it's okay! We're coming!"
At the sound of the woman's voice, the boy lowered his plasma cannon, which folded up as the metal retracted up his arm and out of sight over his shoulder. The last of the metal had just retreated when the door burst open and a middle-aged couple ran in, immediately dashing over to the bed. The boy flinched at their incoming rush, but was soon enveloped in a tight hug from his mother.
"Oh, Jaime, it's alright. It's okay; you're safe here."
The boy buried his face in his mother's shoulder, not trying to hug her back but attempting to curl in on himself. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably, sweat pouring down his back.
They didn't understand. He wasn't safe. The Reach was still on Earth; they could still come for him. He'd only fallen asleep after hours of keeping watch, the sheer exhaustion of the day – of finally being free of the Reach after sixty-six days of imprisonment within his own body – overtaking him at last.
They could easily come back, either to put him under their thrall once more, or force him to watch as they killed his entire family as retribution for being rescued. Sixty-six days with nobody but the Ambassador, the Scientist, and occasionally Black Beetle capable of hearing his pleas for help had taught him well when it came to the Reach's cruelty.
So, no matter how many times everyone told him he was safe, he would never feel truly safe again.
EL PASO
June 15, 19:29MDT
"Jaime, dinner's ready!"
Jaime practically jumped out of his skin at the sound of his father's voice calling him from the kitchen. On most days, him being startled like that would result in the Scarab automatically forming a weapon, but today, it would seem that Jaime was the paranoid one.
"Our scanners still detect no approaching Reach forces. I will maintain watch while you eat."
Jaime sighed shakily, and with some reluctance, shed his armour. He'd spent most of the day holed up in his room, in full armour and with his scanners constantly keeping watch for the inevitable retaliation from his former captors. Because he had no doubt that the Ambassador and Black Beetle were furious at the loss of two of their infiltrators. He was surprised that they hadn't already come for him in the night.
As he made his way down the stairs, the smell of his mother's best homemade chorizo – his favourite – hit his nose, making his mouth water for half a second-
"Jaime, good! You're just in time!" His mother smiles as her son walks through the front door, completely oblivious to the fact that it's not her son in control of his own body.
"Ah, yes," the Ambassador's oily voice echoes in his head, "Dinnertime again. Your mother is quite predictable about this; always ready at precisely seven-thirty. Well? Aren't you going to join your family?"
Jaime feels his mouth stretch into a smile a little too wide to be normal for him. "Smells great!" It really does. "Chorizo this time?"
"Sí. Come and sit!"
His body moves under its own power – no, under the Scarab's power – and takes his sneakers off, places them on the mat by the door, and walks from the front door to the dining room table, where the rest of his family is already getting seated.
"How was school today, you two?" his father asks, looking at Milagro first. Milagro chatters a bit about her art project and something silly that happened at recess today, but Jaime barely hears it over the Ambassador's and the Scarab's comments.
"Such a sweet, innocent child," the Ambassador comments, "It would be such a shame if anything were to happen to her…"
"Please, don't!" Jaime begs the only person who can hear him, "She doesn't know anything!"
"The Milagro Reyes is hardly a threat," the Scarab practically scoffs, "She possesses no combat skills beyond amateur playground tactics such as kicking her opponents in the shins and pulling their hair, and is young enough to be dismissed as having an over-active imagination if she were to confide in an adult about any suspicions."
If Jaime didn't know any better, he would think the Scarab is actually trying to protect his sister.
"Be that as it may, should any member of the family learn of your… situation… all three will have to be eliminated. You should keep that in mind, Jaime Reyes."
"Why do you keep doing this?" Jaime pleads, "You know I can't control whether they find out or not, not when you've got me trapped like this!"
"Be that as it may, the fact remains that you need to know this, Jaime. Besides, it's not as though you can do nothing to protect your family. Every piece of advice you can give us about blending in within your household can only benefit them, in that it will ensure their continued ignorance, and their continued survival under our arrangement."
Jaime isn't one to hate easily, but he despises the Reach at large, and the Ambassador in particular, for threatening his loved ones like this.
"Now, I believe your mother asked you a question."
Jaime tunes back into the conversation at the dinner table, and immediately notices his parents looking at him expectantly. Even Milagro is giving him a sideways glance without bothering to stop eating.
Figuring he's been asked about his day at school, Jaime – hating the Ambassador and himself every second – gives in to the implied demand. "Tell them about the A on the Bio test, and complain about how annoying my dead-weight history project partner is." Because those things would be his main focus if he wasn't constantly unnerved by the way his entire body moves without his consent, or scared to death that his mere presence will doom his friends and family to their deaths.
"Jaime?"
He blinked, and suddenly, he was back on the stairs, rather than sitting at the table. His hand was holding the rail in a death-grip that had his muscles aching, and his knees felt like jelly.
His father had also moved from the dinner table to the bottom of the stairs, and was looking at him in concern. "Jaime, is everything alright?"
'No. No, no, don't ask that, they'll kill you!' "I- I- I- I'm fine!" Jaime gasped, his chest tightening painfully. "L-look, I'm not that hungry right now." It was true; the nausea curling in his gut made him feel like he might throw up at any second. "Tell M-Ma to start dinner without me." And he turned and stumbled back up the stairs. His legs almost gave out halfway to his room, but he caught himself on the wall and kept going.
He couldn't breathe.
When Jaime made it to his room, he shut the door behind him – just shy of outright slamming it – and pressed the little button on the knob with shaking hands in order to lock it.
"Why are you panicking, Jaime Reyes?" Scarab asked, "Scans indicate no Reach presence, nor any other threat within the vicinity."
Jaime ignored him, sinking to his knees and struggling to take a deep breath. "I- I can't do it. I can't go down there. I just- I can't."
But the Scarab wouldn't let it go so easily. "Your family learned of our subjection to the Reach approximately forty hours ago, when they were informed by the Nightwing and the Zatanna. If they were to be executed for knowing the truth, they would already be dead. There is no purpose in concealing the secret now."
"You don't know that!" Breathing was coming a little easier, but he stayed on his knees, as his legs still felt like they wouldn't support him. "They could just be waiting for us to let our guards down. You know we made them mad yesterday. Th-th-they'll come; I know it!"
"Then would it not be preferable to maintain a closer proximity to your family, to better protect them in the case of an attack?"
"I just can't, okay?!"
He couldn't. He couldn't look at his own family without thinking of the horrible danger they were in because of him. He couldn't look at his own family without feeling hurt that they hadn't noticed anything wrong with him for sixty-six days straight. He couldn't look at his own family without being overwhelmed by the guilt of feeling hurt by their ignorance when it was the only thing keeping them alive.
He just… couldn't.
These first two scenes are right after 'Intervention', so the Reach are still on Earth. Judging by the timestamps we're given, Batgirl, Impulse, Rocket, and Zatanna ambush Blue at 8:40pm MDT (which is 6 hours behind UTC) on the 13th, and bring him to Bialya by 5:19am on the 14th, with a given time zone of UTC+2. In UTC time, that's an ambush beginning at 2:40am and arrival at Bialya at 3:19am. As I'm sure you all realise, this means that both the fight and the trip from El Paso to Bialya (8 time zones away, so literally about a third of the way around the world) is an impressive (and very unrealistic) 39 minutes! (Maybe there was zeta-travel involved?)
And I've often felt that Jaime's immediate reaction to being released from Reach control was very… subdued, so I'm just chalking that up to being tired and dazed as hell from the whole experience. He probably would have returned home really early in the morning of the 14th, and the first scene takes place almost 24 hours later, after he was told to get some much-needed rest and didn't really do so.
I'll be updating every Sunday, so stay tuned for a new chapter next week!