The lamp was heavy with a solid stone base, and a blow to the Demoman's head had knocked Tavish out cold, leaving Jane to look over the body while still brandishing his modified weapon. Jane's first instinct, and overall safest option, was to brain Tavish a second time, finishing the job and making sure he wouldn't be getting back up. But Jane hesitated; something wasn't right here. Okay, obviously something wasn't right with the glowing fire eye, but there was more than that. There had been no mercy in Tavish since the beginning of the War, but in the brief instant before he'd killed Jane, there had been some sort of…recognition.
Plus, it's been a long time since he'd killed anybody unarmed. Finishing off someone who's helpless didn't appeal to him anymore, which was more than he could say for some people apparently.
So Jane didn't hit him again, instead setting the lamp down on the nightstand. It was carved with a little cherub at its neck, the curvature fitting perfectly in his clammy hand, and he made sure to keep it within arm's reach as he checked over Tavish.
At first, he worried actually had killed Tavish. It was hard to tell if he was breathing, and it wasn't until Jane pressed two fingers against the Demoman's neck that he was able to feel a faint pulse. A mix of emotions came at the discovery. There was certainty, now that he knew what he was working with, but a bit of relief slipped in there too.
Jane frowned at his own reaction. Tavish had come here to kill him, there was no reason for the Soldier to feel pity for this sad excuse of a mercenary. And yet, the look in his eye when he and Jane came face to face after so long…
Tavish had been talking to himself. It seemed like he wasn't sure of his decision at all, and was wrestling with his own inner demons when it came to Jane, a dilemma Jane was all too familiar with. The Soldier had his own moments when he wasn't sure if he was acting rationally or was just as crazy as everyone said, and that just made the conflict inside him all the more vitriolic.
But hey, at least he'd never sneaked into another mercenary's hotel room. That was something.
Carefully, Jane checked Tavish over for any weapons and found none. Some assassination attempt this was; the only thing Tavish had brought was that fucking sword, the one that had been tearing through BLU team like they were sliced ham.
As he eyed the thing from where it stuck out of the floor like some Arthurian legend, Jane gently touched his throat. The sword had been so hot when it'd cut him, burning like it was going to cauterize the wound even as it sunk into his flesh. But that must have been all in his head, since his fingers still came away with fresh blood.
Jane shoved his superstitions aside, and stepped forward to yank the sword from the wood.
As soon as his palm contacted the pommel, a hole was ripped open inside his mind, the sudden void filled with
KILL HIM
The pain was more excruciating than anything he'd felt in his life. Even after everything being a BLU had thrown at him, this destroyed him from the inside out, becoming endless, inescapable, stretching beyond the recesses of time. Jane wasn't in his motel room anymore. He wasn't anywhere, his body vaporized and leaving him with no sense except pain, not even able to tell if he was screaming or not.
But finally, the impossible happened. The agony stopped.
Jane blinked. He was lying face down, eating floor just like the position he'd left Tavish in. With a groan, he turned, seeing the unconscious Demoman still lying near the bed.
Jane couldn't have been out for more than a few seconds, but it felt an eternity, and as he pushed himself up he stared wide eyed at the sword. Had Tavish been feeling that the whole time? Impossible, no one could function like that.
There was no doubt now. Something in that thing was really fucking evil.
Regaining his balance, Jane looked down at his would-be attacker. The pain from the sword had frightened him, and he decided it was best to tie Tavish up.
As he did, he questioned the sanity of his actions again. Why even bother waiting around for Tavish to wake up? You weren't supposed to let people dare to try and kill you and then just let them get away with it. Such insubordination should be punished by death! By asskicking! By throwing them off the top of the Hightower!
And yet…this was Tavish.
As much as Jane hated the man and what he'd done, he'd once cared about the Demoman more than words could explain. That's why the betrayal had hurt so much, why the whole War hurt so much. For a time, he'd even tried to convince himself that this new, traitorous Demoman wasn't the real Tavish, and that the woman inside the TV had gotten an incredibly convincing lookalike. (It would certainly explain all the civilian-calling and back-stabbing.) But even Jane wasn't delusional enough to believe that forever. As time went on and nothing changed between the two of them, even that faint hope had slowly eroded away.
It hurt. Really hurt. Ever since it'd begun Jane couldn't function well off the battlefield. In fact, he'd pretty much been drinking himself into a stupor until right before Tavish had shown up.
"What's your fucking problem?" Jane growled at his unconscious form. "Why are you still making me think about you? Can't you just let me hate you in peace?"
Tavish failed to answer.
Jane stood and glared at him. There were shoelaces around his wrists, and the lamp cord bound his legs together; when Tavish woke, he'd be about as mobile as a wet noodle. His proneness just made Jane angrier.
"Couldn't even come and kill me proper you maggot," Jane continued. "Pathetic. You betrayed me for that-!" He pointed a meaty finger at the sword sticking out of the ground. "-and don't even know how use it!"
When Tavish, unsurprisingly, still didn't reply, Jane decided he'd had enough. He stormed into the hotel bathroom, coming out a moment later with a towel wrapped around the palm of his hand. Using his improvised oven mitt, he grasped the sword by the hilt and tore it from the floor.
Even with the barrier between his skin and the metal, Jane still felt and unexplainable heat pulsing into his palm. He didn't wait around to see if it'd burn its way through. Charging forward, he ripped the door to the balcony open, sending the shades clattering. Every drop of anger over what had been done to him, every tear he'd shed over that stupid Demoman, became fuel for his next action. He threw it, hard, the sword spinning tip over hilt as it arched through the moonlight.
Jane watched it sail, breathing heavily as though he'd just walked ten miles instead of a few feet. It winked out of sight, disappearing into the blackness of the desert.
For a moment, Jane felt a small thrill of victory. Tavish would be furious when he woke up. Good. He didn't deserve his precious sword, not after he'd earned it being a bad friend.
The feeling of success last about as long as it took him to turn around. "Oh…shit."
Tavish was right where Jane had left him, on the floor, and spasming out of his goddamned mind. He was like a worm dropped in a puddle, thrashing about with his legs still bound, repeatedly slamming his own head into the floor. Jane rushed forward with no idea what to, stupefied into inaction by the scene before him.
When spittle began to fly from Tavish's mouth, Jane realized he had to do something. He leaned over and tried to pin Tavish's shoulders to the floor. Tavish chose that moment to snap his head upward, and smashed his forehead right into Jane's nose.
"Ahg!" Jane yelled, thrown back by the pain.
What the fuck? Was this some kind of seizure? Jane didn't know the first thing about seizure safety, and he clutched his nose and cursed Tavish and all he stood for. But he was still concerned for the Demoman, and that realization hurt worse than his bloody nose.
Jane did the best he could. With a grunt, he got Tavish on the bed, then searched for more things he could use as restraints. He pinned down the arms and legs, fighting the Demoman tooth and nail, and found some weird clamps in the closet he used to make a head brace.
"I'm trying to help you, maggot!" Jane grunted said as he strapped Tavish's head in.
The seizures didn't slow, but at least Tavish wasn't at risk of giving himself whiplash anymore. Sweat dampened his clothes and the sheets, his eye twitched rapidly underneath its lid, and every now and then his back would curl like he was trying to break free. Overall, he wasn't looking great.
Jane finally allowed himself to stand back from the bed. "Jesus Tav. You're more trouble than you're worth." He was so tired he didn't even notice when the Demoman's name slipped from his mouth.
There was a flurry of dried saliva clinging to Tavish's mouth, to which Jane wrinkled his nose. He left, getting another damp towel from the bathroom, and carefully wiped the mess away.
Halfway through the act he paused. Then he sighed. "Fuck you. Fuck you for still making me care about you."
Tavish's only response was to twitch in his sleep, and Jane regretfully went back to cleaning off the Demoman's face.
Morning found Soldier passed out on the floor. On first impression, the pounding in his head and the empty bottles surrounding him would lead him to believe that he was recovering from a particularly harsh bender. The giveaway though was his altitude, and a soft snore was coming from the bed above him.
He pushed himself up with a groan, and checked on Tavish. The Demoman was still out of it, but the convulsions had stopped some time in the night. Jane didn't even try to suppress the sigh of relief that eased out of him.
It still took another hour for Tavish's eye to blink open. He looked worse than any hangover Jane'd ever seen him in, bags under his eye and face plastered with dry sweat. But, most importantly, his eye had softened back to its natural brown, no trace of the green flame. Jane had been thinking a lot about it last night, when the thrashing sounds from the bed had kept him from drifting off. He had the beginnings of an idea about this whole thing, but he wanted to hear what Tavish had to say first.
"Morning, scum," Jane said, standing at the foot of the bed. "Rise and shine."
Instead of talking back, Tavish looked around the room, slowly regaining his facilities. When he realized he was restrained, he began to panic, twisting at the shoelaces above his head.
"Don't bother," Jane grunted. "If you didn't bust out of those while you were being possessed by the devil, you're not going to now."
Tavish's eye darted around, sweat already forming on his brow. "What are…? Where am I?" His voice was vague, unfocused, trying to fight off waves of alarm.
"You tell me cyclops," Jane said. "You're the one who broke in here."
Tavish's face only became confused. Jane blinked, wondering how much of his suspicions were true. Then again, Tavish could just be pretending in order to garner sympathy.
"W-what?" Tavish murmur, slowly regaining control of his voice. "Broke in? I don't…remember…"
"What do you remember then?" Jane said, growing impatient.
"I remember…" Tavish closed his eye concentrating, stopping his struggle against the restraints. "I was…having a dream. You were there, falling, I…I'm sorry…I…"
A dream? Must have been a pretty shitty dream if he was trying to kill himself in his sleep. Jane leaned further on the footboard and said nothing.
"Then…I went down to the armory? And I got the Eyelander…" Tavish's eye widened slowly. "The Eyelander…Miss Pauling, she gave it to me for the War. The War…Jane." On his last word he looked up, as though seeing Jane properly for the first time.
"So nothing about trying to murder me?" Jane asked gruffly. This was getting him nowhere, it was like talking to a coma patient.
"…Something about a hotel? I don't…" Tavish's eye was darting around, like the memories were coming too fast. "The War. Oh god Jane…Jane I'm so sorry, I'm sorry I Jane didn't want…"
And then something Jane didn't prepare for. Tavish was crying, tears building in his eye by the second. He wasn't even looking at Jane, more like he was talking to a past version of the Soldier, one that lived in his memories and he couldn't get back. The current Jane took a step away from the bed, alarmed.
"I'm so sorry," Tavish repeated. "I should have talked to you, should have went and found you as soon as the tried to get me to take the deal…" His head was free of the brace that had held him during his seizures, and he raised it to look Jane directly in the eye. "I hurt you so much…I'm so sorry."
It was more than Jane could take. He backed away from the bed, knocking against the opposite wall and unable to look away from Tavish. Part of him thought that this was all some trick, crocodile tears to pull on the heartstrings and lower Jane's guard. But he knew it wasn't. This was Tavish, giving him something he didn't know how badly he needed: an apology.
Jane looked away. Of all the scenarios, the fact that Tavish would ever come back and just say I'm sorry had never crossed Jane's mind. All his fantasies had been about seeking revenge on the Demoman, of hurting him as badly as he'd hurt Jane. But the way Tavish was looking at him now, so vulnerable, awakened feelings in Jane he didn't want to admit he still had.
"I threw out your stupid sword," Jane muttered, refusing to make eye contact.
"…Oh," Tavish replied blankly. Maybe hurt that Jane hadn't accepted his apology so easily. "Yeah. That. I…I needed that. Or used to I guess. It…helped me forget some of the guilt."
Jane hesitated, but everything Tavish was saying confirmed his suspicions. "It helped you forget, huh? And now you can't remember much of anything."
Now it was Tavish's turn to hesitate. "What…do you mean?"
Jane shifted on his feet, wondering how to put the words together. Having Tavish so far away was strangely awkward, so (despite the fact that the Demoman had tried to kill him only a few hours before) Jane came to the side of the bed and sat down.
"Tavish," he began quietly. "I think your sword is fucked up." The confusion returned to Tavish's face, and Jane pressed on ahead. "Last night you…were talking to it. Ever since you got that thing you've been different and also on fire. I used to have a wizard as a roommate, I know some fucking evil magic when I see it."
Understanding finally lit in Tavish's eye. "Are you saying I've been possessed?"
Not as good at finding the right words, Jane just nodded.
"Oh," Tavish blinked. "Jesus fucking shit!" His voice steadily increased until he was practically yelling in self-hatred. "A fucking 'haunted sword' she said, of course, of-fucking course! How did I not see that? I could I have been so bloody stupid?"
"You were under its control, Tavish," Jane said quickly. He didn't know why, but suddenly the sight of Tavish beating himself up made his stomach sick. "It wasn't all your fault."
"That doesn't fucking matter!" Tavish spit. "I should have turned it down or…or fought it harder. Just something. But instead I was fooled easier than a child hearing about Old Nick. Years of avoiding magic 'n curses and what did that get me?"
He slumped backwards, looking even more worn than before. Jane, for his part, shifted on the bed awkwardly. There was no reason not to believe Tavish was anything less than heartbroken, not with the way he wiped an angry tear from his eye. And, more importantly, Jane wanted to believe it.
Tavish took a steadying breath and looked up. "I'm sorry Jane. For…" He looked shamefully around the room. "For what I almost did."
"…It's okay Tav." And Jane meant it. He hadn't let himself realize how badly he wanted Tavish back. But…there was still something in way of fully accepting him. "I just…need to ask you a question. And you have to answer honestly, alright?"
"Of course," Tavish said immediately.
"When you were possessed, did you…tell anybody the…the secret?"
Tavish raised an eyebrow, only briefly confused about what Jane might be referring to. Then he lowered his eye in guilt. "I…I dunno. I really don't Jane, I can't remember anything about that. But, if I did, I'm so sorry. I never should have let any of this happen, never let myself get caught up in something so stupid."
Jane nodded, closing his eyes for a second while tears leaked out of them. "It's okay Tavish. Remember, I hurt you too." And for maybe less reason. If that thing had been controlling Tavish when he said all those things then…Jane didn't want to think about it. That blame could be shouldered another time. For now, he was just glad to have Tavish back.
In one impulsive motion, he lunged forward and hugged Tavish around the chest. It was so good to be with him again, or at least with him in a way that didn't involve murder for fun and profit.
Tavish tried to hug him back, but only managed to pull unsuccessfully at the headboard. Jane noticed, and reached to untie the bindings.
"Don't," Tavish yelped suddenly, stopping Jane mid-motion. "W-what if the Eyelander can still control me? What if I attack you again?"
"I threw it outside," Jane shrugged. "I'm pretty sure I saw you exorcised last night."
"Maybe. Alright. You can untie me but I…I need to be sure. Something like that, you'd need to return it from whence it came but…I don't think Pauling's going to be too thrilled taking it back." He barked out a dry laugh. Then he quieted, lost in though for a moment. "Could you…take it, throw it in a loch somewhere? That's usually a surefire way to break a curse."
"Not a lot of lakes in New Mexico," Jane pointed out.
"Jane," Tavish said, voice steeled. "Please? For me?"
Jane took a shaking breath. "Okay. If it'll bring the old Tav back, I'll do anything." He hugged Tavish one last time for good luck.
It did take a long time to find a lake. But several missed exits later, Jane did manage to up to a small, dirty little thing, and spit in its general direction.
"Looks like the perfect spot. Ready to be worm food you goddamned stick of metal?"
He didn't think worms actually could eat swords, but if any weapon deserved it, it was this one. Carefully, he withdrew the Eyelander from the pillowcase it'd resided in since he'd retrieved it from the desert, and clutched it in his hand. It gleamed maliciously in the morning sun, but could do nothing more than that.
With a snarl, he gave his parting words, "now stay the fuck away from my friend," and chucked it into the grimy water.
Already, the day seemed brighter.
It took less time for Jane to get back to the motel, and found Tavish passed out cold in the room. He didn't know if it was just from the exhaustion of last night, or something about throwing the sword really had pulled the last bits of spirit from within him. Either way, Jane was ready with some water and chips from the vending machine as soon as Tavish woke up.
"Better?" Jane asked once the Demoman had emptied the glass Jane held to his face.
"Aye," Tavish nodded, wiping the corner of his mouth.
"Chips?" Jane asked, presenting him the bag. Tavish seemed nervous for a moment, afraid to let down his guard, but the temptation of food overpowered him and he accepted the gift.
"It's good you have an appetite," Jane said as the tension drained out of the room. "That means you are completely healthy!"
"Don't think that's how it works," Tavish said, but he chuckled as he did. "I'm just happy everything doesn't have a green film over it anymore."
That one made Jane laugh too, and soon the two of them fell back into their old ways as easy as that. They spent the next couple minutes in pleasant conversation, talking about nothing like they always used to.
It wasn't until Tavish finished his bag that they stopped, and the Demoman looked mournfully down at his hands. "I, don't want to hurt you anymore Janey. I never want to again."
Jane's breath caught in his throat, and he let it out second by second. Then, he pulled Tavish into another hug, only their third in so many weeks.
"I know Tav." He rested his chin on Tavish's shoulder to hear him breathe. Then, Jane cracked a small, private smile. "Although, if you're not, it looks like I have this whole War thing in the bag."
Tavish laughed, louder than appropriate, shaking in Jane's arms. It was good one, of relief, and was followed up with the expected, "you're a right bastard, you know that?"
