A/N: Prompt from CrossfireBullet "one about a moded Jaime and a captured Bart".
We weave tales of love and lust, sing songs of morality and mortality.
Bart's heartbeat thrums in his temples, and it takes him a moment to register the pain, simply because it hurts, well, everywhere. The surface beneath his cheek is soft, and it takes him a second to realize he's lying in a bed. Yet, it looks more like one of the Reach's containment pods than anything else. Groaning, he props himself on his elbows and takes stock of where he is. He feels as if his brain is floating somewhere above his skull. The room is dim, but what little he can see makes his heart sink lower in his chest. The walls have a pattern similar to the exoskeleton of a bug, and the overall design is not unlike the Reach armor. More specifically, Blue Beetle's armor.
Spots of color dance across Bart's vision as his gaze lands on a pair of luminous amber lenses. His heart shudders violently, and he's torn between running or waiting to watch how things unfold.
"It's fun watching you sleep." The Blue Beetle's voice cuts through the silence like a knife. It's a heavy silence too; dark with the promises of death and torture. But now that he's spoken, the silence is shattered, and Bart can find his voice.
"Blue." Bart can't help the hopeful edge that seeps into his voice. He knows that Jaime is gone, Jaime is dead, but sometimes facing the monster that is reality is too hard. Blue Beetle's black lips upturn into a sort of half-smile. "Why..." Bart lets his voice trail off as he tries to piece his train of thought together. Blue Beetle doesn't interrupt him, just watches as the younger boy squirms. "Why am I still alive?"
Blue Beetle steps forwards, and this simple movement spurs Bart to action. He feels the course of adrenaline spread throughout his body, but nothing happens. He can't run. Bart's hand darts to his neck in a panic, and he gropes blindly for an inhibitor collar. All he finds, however, are old scars that refuse to fade.
"I wouldn't put an inhibitor collar on you," Blue states facetiously.
"Then why can't I run?"
When Blue Beetle is less than forthcoming, Bart tries to press further, but his breath hitches in his throat as Jaime—no, Blue Beetle, he reminds himself—steps closer to him. Blue's hand elongates into a serrated blade, and he traces Bart's lips with the steady hand of an artist carving his latest masterpiece. All Bart feels is a sting, but when he licks his lips, his skin is slick with blood. Something rises up in his throat, a sort of panic that's caught half way between a sob and a gasp. This perversion of his ally, his friend, is almost more than he can take.
"Jaime, please," he gasps, as Blue Beetle tilts his face, and a tongue darts out to swipe away the halo of blood around his lips.
The rising panic is still there, but it's becoming closer to a scream than anything else. And yet, when he opens his mouth, a laugh tumbles out. He laughs, hysteria bubbling inside of him. He laughs, and Blue Beetle watches with a stoic expression on his face.
"So you're a vampire now?" Bart gasps out through his laughter.
Blue and black armor peels back, and Bart is surprised to see that moded Jaime's face is... benign. Placid. Calm.
In response to Bart's question, he simply smiles. It's a haunting sort of grin that looks just plain wrong on his face. "I like the taste of blood. It wakes me up." He leans forward, and his breath tickles Bart's ear. "Almost as much as I like the taste of you."
It takes Bart a second, a whole second, to realize that Jaime is kissing him. His lips are soft, but forceful. Bart vaguely notices the hand that settles on the back of his neck; a warning not to pull away. It's an unnecessary gesture because Bart wouldn't even if he wanted to. Jaime—and it has to be Jaime, because a demon wearing his face couldn't possibly be this good at kissing—bites down on Bart's lower lip. An unbidden moan slips out, and then the kiss ends.
"Do you want me, Bart?"
A pause, and then a low whisper of, "No." It's not a downright lie. He loves Jaime, but not this twisted version of him.
He feels a hand close around his fragile throat, and his lungs pointlessly try to draw air. Jaime grins again, a chilling flash of white teeth. "I don't care what you want. Either way, you're fun to play with." The hand releases his throat, the pale skin now tinged pink from where it was gripped. Blue Beetle turns, and the armor spreads across his face once more. Bart should be thankful he's still alive. The other heroes, the people that for such a fleeting period of time were his allies, are dead. He's seen them die in person and on the news screens. He knows he'll be next. It doesn't make sense that he's even still alive, even if he is, to quote the Reach's puppet himself, "fun to play with".
And then, because Bart's never been good at keeping quiet, he rasps out, "You're still in there Jaime. If you weren't, I wouldn't still be alive. But I can feel you, and I'll save you. I failed before, but I'll save you."
"Jaime Reyes is gone." Bart can hear the smile in the voice that is as soft as silk on skin.
"You're wrong."
With the touch of an armored hand, an opening forms in the wall, but closes immediately as Blue Beetle steps out.
Now the room is empty, save for himself. Bart eases to a standing position and examines himself. His limbs are wholly intact, his chest rises and falls with every breath, and his heart thuds in his chest. To put it simply: he feels very much alive. And if he's still alive, that means Jaime is too. Somewhere. And from what he's just seen, he knows that Jaime is closer to the surface than he'd ever dared hope.