Chapter 14: Headspace
Jake Lockley was startled awake from a deep rumble. He looked around his small room, modeled after the barracks he'd spend most of his formative years in back at the military. A thin, bare light bulb was flickering up at the ceiling and all the bunk beds were shaking slightly, as was the floor.
"Fuck, what is it now", he muttered and scrambled to his feet. He went over to the small mirror hanging over the sink at the back of his room. Jake didn't spare more than a glance for his own reflection: tall, broad-shouldered, muscles like steel cables and dressed in camouflage pants and a jacket over a white shirt. His hair was dark and curly just like Marc's but he sported a thin mustache. His black top hat sat on a shelf above the mirror.
Jake tapped the mirror, intending to contact David.
It had taken him a while to figure out how to do this. David was basically the mind keeper, the alter with the most power and influence over their shared headspace. Jake only owed a tiny section of it while the boy had practically decorated the entire place. Not that he was aware of it.
The mirror though remained a mirror, refusing to open up the view into David's private corner of the headspace.
"David? David, what's wrong?" Jake asked, growing worried. The ground underneath him shook again and tiny bits of white plaster started to rain down on him.
David didn't answer.
"Mierda", Jake cursed, grabbed his hat and left, slamming the door behind him.
He emerged into a white corridor. There were doors to either side with little glass windows, through which the faint sight and noises of past memories could be guessed at. But Jake ignored all those, walking past the doors with his hands stuck in the pockets of his pants and his head ducked. Occasionally he would pass a specter, dressed like nurses or doctors or patients, some wearing the face of a friend or an enemy or a victim.
Jake pulled at the brim of his hat, pulling it deep and not looking anyone in the eye. He hated the specters and he hated this whole damn hospital. Fortunately, nobody recognized him so long as he was wearing his hat. It was a trick he'd figured out early. Most of these specters came from Marc's or Steven's memories. They wouldn't recognize him so long as he looked visibly different from them. So what if it looked like a silly disguise? He could dress however the fuck he wanted in his own damn head!
The shaking was noticeable out here too. Lights were flickering on and off. Sometimes one of the specters would freeze and grow blurred or repeat the same words over and over again like a badly tuned radio station.
Jake recognized all of these signs. It had happened once before.
"I shouldn't have left them alone. Mierda, I shouldn't have left them alone!" he cursed. Running would only alert the specters, causing them to hound him, to lock him into some cell as if he was a mental patient. Then Jake would have to fight them off and throw them all into one of the memory rooms, and then the memory would spill out and cause a nasty flashback and that was the last thing Jake wanted. So he was forced to walk at a slower pace until he finally, finally arrived at David's door.
It was locked.
Jake cursed again. David's door was never locked.
"David? David, open the door! It's me, Jake!" he called out, hammering a fist against the door and repeatedly pulling the handle at the same time.
Another rumble, stronger than the previous ones and Jake had to catch himself with a hand at the wall. A few feet down the corridor, one of the lamps fell off the ceiling and crashed to the ground, bursting into a hundred little shards. Fear started to creep up on Jake. He vividly remembered that last time the place had shaken like this, back when he'd smashed David's computer in an attempt to wake him from that stupid delusion of his. The specters had gone raving mad, electricity had failed completely, walls had broken down. And then, then the locks to the memory doors had started to fail one by one and all the nightmares had come out. For weeks Jake had been stuck in a fight for his life, battling undead jackals and armed thugs and bloody Khonshu and a thousand different versions of Mom. He'd barely been able to pay any attention to what was going on with the body, with Marc and Steven who'd been thrown into similar disarray-
Last time the headspace had shaken this bad, when the walls had started to break down, Marc had literally died.
He'd thought it would stop eventually. He'd thought time would heal the wounds or that David would eventually reconnect with the outside again. But that didn't happen. So Jake had done the only thing he could think of and he'd helped to rebuild David's house of cards and he stopped arguing with him and just played along. And just like that, the world returned to normal. All the nightmares went back into their cages, all the doors were safely locked and the specters went back to ignoring Jake.
He could not allow such chaos to reign again. So Jake took a few steps back and aimed a powerful kick at the door and the door slammed open.
David's room was a mess. The hammock had fallen off its hangar. Books and toys and little magazines with riddles were strewn around the floor. Pictures of Moon Knight were everywhere: drawings, movie posters, action figures. There was even a Khonshu plushie lying on the floor. Some of those images showed Jake's costume, most where Marc's and a few even showed Steven's persona of Mr. Knight. None of them showed David's pitch black armor though.
The giant setup with the four monitors was flickering on and off. David's cushy, white chair had been knocked over. As usual, there was no light, no lamp anywhere in the room, ceiling or otherwise. The flickering lights of the PC offered the only illumination.
David himself was sitting in a dark corner of the room, his knees pulled to his chest. He was wearing that gray pajama he always wore, similar to the one Marc used to wear except instead of little iron-man-figures, David's was sporting little Moon Knights, all three versions mixed together. His white-framed glasses sat skewed on his nose and his brown curls were in utter disarray. His eyes were staring ahead, wide and open. His body was rocking back and forth like a seesaw and his mouth moved but no words came out.
"David?" Jake asked and approached him slowly. He held out both his arms, taking care to appear as non-threatening as possible and went to crouch down before the boy.
"David, can you hear me?"
David did not reply.
Jake's chest grew tight and his hands formed fists. He hated to see David like this. It was wrong, just wrong. David had always been the strong one, perhaps the strongest out of all of them. He was always sure of himself, always knew what to do, always planned with such confidence that it sometimes took Jake a while to realize how utterly stupid some of his ideas were.
Jake touched his shoulder gently. When no reaction came, he shook it a bit more insistent.
"David? Come on, wake up! At least tell me what's happened!"
But David gave no reply.
Jake was helpless. He had no idea what to do. Last time hadn't been like this. Last time David had at least recognized him, had talked to him, even if he'd been a bit depressed. It hadn't taken much to get him back to normal.
"Come on, amigote. Don't do this to me", Jake begged, lightly shaking his shoulder again.
David remained unresponsive.
Jake looked around for anything helpful. He grabbed a little Jake-as-Moon-Knight action figure and another that looked like Ammit.
"Hey look, do you want to play a game?" he said, moving the two figures in front of David's face as if they were mock fighting. "I'll even let you play Moon Knight, how about-"
Suddenly a shadow burst out of the little Ammit figurine and Jake let go of it with a curse. It fell to the ground and the ground was suddenly sporting scales and a giant snout was growing out of the carpet.
Jake repeatedly stepped on the carpet as if putting on a fire and to his relief, the shadow-crocodile got pushed back into the ground. Jake kicked away the action figures into the darkness. Note to self, the toys were not for playing.
Jake's gaze fell on the PC. He didn't know if involving that would make things better or worse but he didn't know what else to do. If nothing else, maybe he could at least find out what had happened.
Jake had used David's PC before. Years ago, David had been sleeping and not waking up. Not like right now, when something was obviously wrong with him. Back then he'd just been curled up in his hammock, peacefully oblivious. Jake had used his room as a bit of a control center back then. He'd come here to check up on Marc. Other days he would just wander the hospital, sometimes peaking into memory rooms, the good ones, not the bad ones, trying to fill in the huge gaps he had. Fronting was exhausting and the more he had to do it, the more he needed his own sleep. But back then, when Marc had been more or less well, he'd had some time of awareness to himself that he'd used to explore the headspace.
David only used the PC to watch the body and listen to the other alters but it could do more than that. All of their memories, from all alters, were stored here in folders and if you opened a folder, it thrust you into the respective memory room. The reverse was also true, which had saved Jake's skin a couple of times. Sometimes he'd go exploring and a happy memory turned sour or worse, turned into a nightmare. But wherever Jake was, lost in this fractured mind, with enough focus he could always open up a door that lead to David's PC's and from there back to his own room.
David's room was a safe space. It was where everything came together, where everything met. The core of their mind. In here, all the nightmares were not real. In here, all those bad memories were just backstory. In here, all the monsters were just made up.
Because he was just a normal boy playing a game after all.
Jake picked up the fallen end of the hammock, putting it back into its hanger. Gently and carefully, he wrapped up David in a blanket and lifted him off the ground and into the hammock, where he turned around and rolled with the back to him. He did not fall asleep, just kept staring ahead but at least he didn't look like someone hiding in a closet from a monster anymore.
Jake righted the chair, squeezing into the too-small seat and randomly started pressing buttons on the keyboard. Half of them weren't even labeled or were sporting hieroglyphs instead of Latin letters. Determination alone turned the main screen back on and Jake froze.
From the rapid babble of British slang, it looked like Steven had the body. He seemed to be, not quite running but speed-walking from something - or someone, weaving through alleys and in between buildings. When he turned around once, Jake saw Peter Parker following him, arguing. From the snippets he caught, it sounded like Steven had thoroughly freaked out upon waking up in an abandoned building, with Peter - no longer tied up but all the signs of it still being there. Peter must've explained some of what went on because now Steven was determined to turn himself over to the police.
Surprisingly, Peter was trying to stop him.
"Look, Steven, I'm really fine and I don't think either of them meant to hurt me", he said, somehow having no trouble keeping up with Steven's long strides. "You.. You just need some help, that's all."
"That's awfully kind of you, but really, you don't have to do this, you shouldn't have to do this - nobody should have to deal with this. I was such a fool for thinking it could ever work out - we should've never returned - I should've done this the moment I learned there was another!"
Jake paled. His was absolutely horrible! He had never wanted to hurt Peter, he wouldn't have had, he'd just… just panicked a little. He'd just wanted to get Peter and David in a room together, that was all. Yet Steven was talking as if he was some kind of crazy child killer.
Panic grew in Jake's heart and he looked for David for help.
But David could not help him. David was the one who needed help.
The sight of the child curled up like that, confused and stuck in his own mind, felt like a bucket of ice being emptied over Jake's head. He had to help David. He had to protect him – that's what he was, he was a damn protector and if he couldn't even protect his hermanito, then what the fuck was he good for?
But he couldn't help him alone. Jake was good at fighting, he was good at protecting them from physical harm. But that was not the kind of danger David faced. He needed a different kind of protector now. He needed… Steven.
So Jake swallowed down his own anxiety, all his fears of rejection and hatred from his other halves, and he reached for the button to activate the microphone. He'd never talked to Steven or Marc directly and it was in fact the last thing he wanted to do in a situation like this. But he couldn't allow Steven to do something stupid. If Steven took them to the police, or worse to a therapist, it would make everything a hundred times worse.
"Steven. What do you think you're doing?" Jake spoke into the microphone.
Steven froze and after a moment started to look around.
"Who... Who was that?" he asked anxiously.
"You can't go to the fucking police, that's the last thing we need!" Jake told him firmly.
A sort of grim determination settled over Steven and he started walking again. "No, that's exactly what we need", he argued. "I know who you are, you're Jake, aren't you?! You attacked Peter, I'm going to make sure you're locked up for that."
Jake gave a shout of anger and frustration and slammed his fist on the table.
"Steven SHUT UP! We just lost our freaking mindkeeper! Whatever the cachorro has done, David's gone fucking catatonic and this whole place is going to break apart if we don't fix this!"
Steven faltered, looking worried.
"Steven? Who are you talking to? What's going on?" Peter wanted to know.
"Uhm", Steven made. "It sounds like there's a bit of a mental breakdown going on." Steven stopped and turned to Peter uncertainly. "What did you say you talked about with... what was his name?"
"David", Peter said, his voice calming. "He said that the whole world was a simulated reality. That him and Jake were the only real people in it, playing their roles like in a game."
Steven blinked incredulously. "That's... That's ridiculous."
Peter shrugged. "I thought so too. I thought he was joking at first so I asked some pointed questions. He looked very confused and then suddenly, it was you again."
Jake groaned and pulled at the brim of his hat.
"This is bad. Really, really bad", he moaned.
Steven looked around again and this time he found a shop window in which he could see Jake's reflection and stepped toward it.
"Jake? Is that you?" he asked. "Are you serious, do you really believe you're in some kind of game? ...and what's with the funny hat?"
"Nevermind the hat!" Jake snarled aggressively. "And of course I don't think it's a game, but David does! He's been there from the very start and I think he got beat over the head way more than you as a kid, maybe even Marc. He dissociated himself so far away from it all that he came around full circle and created his own reality. I tried to break him out of it before and guess what happened!? Total disaster! Marc and you got tangled up and you lost the scarab and the Ammit mission went to shit and we all fucking died!"
At last, Steven was looking appropriately worried. "That... doesn't sound good."
"Exactly! Now you can think about me whatever you want but David..." Jake floundered, struggling with words. It was a small miracle he'd even gotten this far, fighting against the balled up anxiety in his chest. This was not at all how he imagined to introduce himself to his alters. But in that moment, he meant what he said. It didn't matter what Steven thought about him, so long as he could help David.
"David's got nothing to do with this", Jake said pleadingly. "He's only ever tried to help. But now he is the one that needs help."
Steven flushed and looked at Peter apologetically before turning back to Jake.
"I... I see. Can I... Can I go to a doctor or...?"
"Absolutely not! No police and no doctors!" Jake shuddered at the mere thought of David being stuck in another mental hospital. That had been the longest time David had ever fronted and he'd been out for even longer afterwards. It had been years since then and the entire headspace still looked like a copy of that damn place.
"I'll keep trying to reach him from the inside. But David, he's... He's an alter but he's also like our personified subconsciousness or something. He keeps this entire place running. He keeps up all the walls. With him out of commission, everything is going to start falling part. Flashbacks, nightmares, uncontrolled switching, hallucinations, you name it. I'll try my best to keep it from affecting you guys but I need something to work with here", Jake plead.
Steven gulped. "O-Okay. How can I help?"
Jake stared him down seriously.
"I need happy memories."
"What?" Steven made, baffled.
"Happy memories!" Jake repeated aggressively. "To counter the bad stuff!"
"W-Where am I supposed to get that?" Steven asked, sounding a bit panicked.
"I don't know!" Jake threw up his arms. "Go on vacation or take a spa day or something! You're the expert in that kinda stuff!"
Something like realization dawned on Steven's face and he squared his shoulders.
"Right. Okay. I can do that."
Steven turned to Peter and explained how he wouldn't go to the police after all, if that was okay please, and that he'd take a few days to relax until his alters had calmed down instead. Peter looked quite glad at that and encouraged him, saying it was a great idea.
With that immediate disaster averted, Jake turned off the PC, worried that it was somehow zapping David's energy. If it made Jake tired to try and watch the others, when what would it do to David, who was almost always conscious?
Jake turned back to the hammock.
"Come on, amigo", he muttered and gently picked up the child, one arm under his back, one beneath his knees. "I'll show you something nice."
The last time around it had taken a few days for the walls to break down. Jake intended to use the time the best he could. He wasn't sure if David's illusions could be rebuild if he'd had some sort of epiphany. Even if they could, was that truly the best way? Ideally, David would come to accept reality for what it was. It would be painful - god, Jake didn't even want to imagine how painful - but in the long run, it might be better.
Jake opened the door with one foot, cradling David to him, still wrapped up in the blanket, and carried him outside. He glanced around the corridor. There was a specter walking down the hall, wearing the face of one of the teachers back in High School if he saw that right. Jake turned his back to her, muttering to David how everything would be alright and waited for her to pass. Then he hurried down the corridor, as quiet as he could, glancing at doors as he went. The doors were not labeled and they had the annoying tendency to change places. Eventually, he found one that looked promising. He opened the door and stepped inside.
It was a beach. Well, not really a beach, just a place where the Sahara desert met the ocean. A pair of camels stood off to the side and down by the water, Marc and Layla sat in the shallow water, both wearing swim wear. They were talking, laughing and Layla pretended like she didn't notice those long, dreamy stares Marc sent her way.
"Look at him", Jake said and settled down David in the sand. "Doesn't he look happy? That's one of the things you missed, when you went to sleep. You don't want to miss any more happy memories like that, do you?"
David had curled up against Jake, clutching at his jacket. He wasn't even looking properly.
Jake gazed back at the couple, clutching David's shoulder with trembling hands. It looked like a happy memory. It wasn't one Jake remembered himself though and if he was being honest, he didn't really feel anything watching it either. He was glad Marc had some joy to remember but this memory, it wasn't for Jake. And it wasn't for David either.
Something dark dropped into the sand below and Jake was shocked to find it was a tear. As if in trance, he raised his hand to his eyes, finding them wet. He looked back at Marc.
This was not for him. Yes, he was glad that Marc was happy but... that wasn't the same as being happy himself.
"Let's try another door", he whispered, picking up David again. "How about a mission we did for Khonshu, together? Huh? You like those." He just had to find one where he hadn't killed anyone. That was lowering the selection quite severely.
XxX
AN:
I'm going on a longer trip tomorrow so you get the chapter early. I hope you liked Jake POV!
Originally, I had planned a scene like this right at the end of The Chameleon. It would have included the very first reveal of David's true age when we see his room for the first time with Jake's eyes. When I decided to write a longer follow up fanfiction instead, everything changed.
Here's my version of why Jake always wears funny hats and a mustache! It's basically a cartoon-style disguise that allows him to sneak past David's subconscious security-constructs. 'Marc' belongs in the game and Jake is a real person so he cannot look exactly like Marc. That would break the illusion. A resemblance is fine, that's just cosplay, but he has to have some defining features to separate them. Also, everything outside of David's room is basically trauma-land. David is the first line of defense against all the shit that lives there. Everything that wants to come through has to get past the huge denial-wall first. I imagine Marc and Steven are buried way deeper when they 'black out' but Jake actually lives there full time, carefully navigating it to be closer to David and protect him if necessary. What do you think, does it make sense?
Sadly among all that Jake's first proper interaction with one of the boys ends up rather short. We'll get back to that later.
But first, next week you get to see Marc's reaction to all the new revelations.