jj @james-gordon-jr - Tumblr Blog

fearisthegoal:

Jonathan nodded. “Yes, I gave him the recommendation for that position. I spent a few years of my own career at Arkham Asylum—it’s certainly a reputable institution.” Jonathan sat down and crossed his legs, his usual posture during appointments, and made a note of where JJ decided to sit in the room. There were a few different seats, and usually each told him something about the patient that sat in them. The armchair meant that JJ was controlled, and perhaps controlling. Crane was certain JJ would try to pull one over on him. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.

“So, tell me. What brought you to Dr. Johnson in the first place?” he asked, opening his leather folio and flipping his legal pad to a clean page as he marked down the session date and patient number—he never used names in his notes—before looking back up at JJ.

“It lives up to its reputation.” That was all JJ would say about Arkham. It hadn’t been as terrible as everyone claimed, but he’d also kept out of trouble. He knew how to stay under the radar. From the time he went in, his only goal was to get back out, which wouldn’t be accomplished if he made any kind of name for himself.

It was a typical question and there were several ways to answer it. JJ didn’t take the humorous route. Dr. Crane struck him as someone who wouldn’t appreciate levity, and he wasn’t going to do anything during this interaction that wouldn’t benefit him. “Therapy is one of my conditions for release. I was a patient at Arkham before I was transferred to Star City Asylum. That’s where I met Dr. Johnson.”

#c: fearisthegoal

celebritiesandmovies

Lakeith Stanfield | Flaunt Magazine

notyoursymbol:

“Good for you,” she answered, though whether she truly believed it was still yet to be seen. After all, he had hypothetically been on medication last time, too, and that hadn’t gone all that well for her or her father, had it? She supposed some would think she was being unfair, but she thought she was being appropriately cautious based on the data she had.

She didn’t want the dog to die. If JJ decided that living creatures were just his playthings again, wouldn’t he be the first one to go? Still, she kept that to herself, not wanting to put any ideas in his head. “What kind of names do you like?”

Babs had always been the type who needed to see things to believe them. JJ knew that. He accepted that about his sister a long time ago. Her trust was something he might never get back fully, but that didn’t mean things couldn’t improve.

“Never really thought about naming anything. What about you?” Maybe it was something she’d thought about before. His gaze went to her ring finger on instinct, but he already knew she wasn’t married. Maybe the news would have been kept from him by Babs and their dad, he certainly wouldn’t have gotten an invitation to any wedding.

#c: notyoursymbol

fearisthegoal:

Crane looked him over once. “I’m Dr. Crane,” he said, reaching a hand out to shake the other man’s. “Dr. Johnson sent your files over to me. Since he’s going to be leaving Star City pretty soon, he’s going to be transferring your care to me.” Crane could instantly tell that the man in front of him was going to be a lot more interesting than he had originally anticipated. While he would have expected the person on paper to be a shivering, nervous wreck, the man in front of him seemed calm, collected.

He tilted his head to the side. “Why don’t you come in and have a seat? Today we’ll just be doing a brief intake and then discussing some of the goals that you had with your previous doctor before evaluating what our goals together will be. Does that sound all right to you?”

There hadn’t been much information on Dr. Crane. JJ looked. He liked to know anything and everything about the psychologists and psychiatrists looking to turn him inside out. Most of them had their own tactics. Dr. Johnson enjoyed talking his childhood to death. A lot of his methods were so clearly Freudian despite his denial of antiquated methods. JJ was quick to learn just how hypocritical people could be when they were so thoroughly convinced of their self-righteousness. It also made them predictable.

“Dr. Johnson told me he would be leaving the city. Good for him. I know how much he wanted the position at Arkham,” he commented idly as he followed Dr. Crane into his office. As he went over what their first session would be, JJ took a seat in the stiff armchair against the wall. “Have at it, doc. I know the routine.”

#c: fearisthegoal

notyoursymbol:

Barbara was on edge as she watched JJ, the dog coming up to sniff at her fingers. She allowed it, but she didn’t let her gaze leave her brother’s. Perhaps they had been close as children. Perhaps, if things hadn’t gone the way they had, she might have even entertained his apology let. But they hadn’t, and she didn’t. The two massive scars on her legs from both being stabbed spoke to that. If she had had any hope of learning to walk again–even if it had been an empty one–the additional nerve damage and near death from blood loss certainly wouldn’t have helped. Further, he had put their father through hell, which was even more of an affront to Babs than an attack on her person.

“How’s that going for you? Been in a lot of bad moods recently?” She had been watching him, mostly to figure out what to avoid. Thus far, he hadn’t fucked up. But as far as she was concerned, it was only a matter of time, wasn’t it?

Even when JJ wrote the apology, he didn’t expect Barbara to accept it. Not completely. That hadn’t been his goal. At some point he knew they would see each other face to face and that was where he would find opportunity. It wouldn’t be reached on paper or through letters. He’d still written them. If anything, the words could instill pinpricks of doubt that he could nourish later on.

“No, actually. The medication helps. Keeps me on an even keel.” He sliced through the air with his hand flat, a horizontal motion. “So, no moods. It’s lonely, but that’s what the dog’s for, right?” It was obvious that Babs didn’t want him to have the dog, a fact he might have found amusing in the past. Now, it struck him as an afterthought, disappointment tempered by the stabilizing drug. “I haven’t decided what to name him yet.”

#c: notyoursymbol

fearisthegoal:

[ @james-gordon-jr liked for a starter!! ]

Crane usually disliked the clinical hours he kept at the asylum’s outpatient center. Most of these people were boring, and certainly not worthy of his time or attention. Crane found that most people weren’t worthy of his time or attention, though that was a fact that he generally kept to himself. Even if he was a creepy, psychotic person on the inside, that didn’t mean he hadn’t learned how to keep it all tightly buttoned down on the outside.

He expected his next appointment to be exactly the same, boring and as run-of-the-mill as always. When he heard the telltale buzz of the receptionist letting him know his next appointment was there, Crane sighed heavily and stood from behind his desk before stepping out into the waiting room and calling out the name. “James Gordon?”

Anyone looking at the long list of conditions attached to JJ’s release would assume he’d be overwhelmed. It was just the opposite. With those conditions came a new sense of freedom, the ability to expand his world instead of being confined to a box, and the demands were simple enough. Most of them were things he’d already been doing: therapy, medication, and checking in so the doctor could receive updates on his progress. At some point he imagined they’d want him to get a job, but for the time being it seemed that his full focus would be on therapy.

That was how he found himself here, at the office of Dr. Crane. He didn’t know anything about the man, but he was already prepared with the expected answers and behaviors of a regrettable ex-mental patient. Rising from his seat, he grinned and held up two fingers. “That’s me.”

#c: fearisthegoal

empathic-echoes:

The snap had Aaron wincing a little bit before he bit his lip. He had to get it together. Normally, he wasn’t quite so on edge. Feelings were feelings and it was something he knew well. But JJ set him on edge because no one else in the world had ever made Aaron get so close to snapping just like those fingers. He had profiled all kinds of murderers and criminals with the GCPD. They had all left their little marks, but not quite like JJ Gordon. He shook his head to push it off, like he was clearing his mind. “Right,” he answered. He should really just take his milk off the shelf and then walk away. And yet he remained rooted to the spot.

“Did you?” he asked. “How did that go over? Have you seen them?” Aaron knew what JJ had done to Barbara. It was in his file, but Aaron had felt the empathic echoes of all of it, too. He’d followed along them as tightly as he could. He had never had the pleasure of meeting Barbara, but he did know Jim. He’d worked with him. Sometimes alongside what he was doing at Arkham. It was a… sad sort of connection. Going from JJ to Jim Gordon and back. Most people might say they couldn’t imagine what it was like for Jim to have a son like JJ. Aaron intimately knew what it was like without ever having felt it for himself. He didn’t have to, because Jim had felt it for him. He wondered if Jim had ever been or would ever be able to reconcile JJ as his child in a way that didn’t breed resentment for the danger to Barbara. “I could be happy for you,” he added. “If it’s real. Is it?” He knew better than anyone what JJ was capable of making people think. He couldn’t hide from Aaron, but Aaron had been brought in because of that. Someone as dangerously intelligent as JJ Gordon needed someone that he couldn’t lie to. Unfortunately… he hadn’t needed to lie to affect Aaron. He had just needed to… talk. And to feel. And the magnetism of his difference was enough to really catch his attention.

He cocked his head. “Conditions?” He echoed. What conditions did JJ have? “Take your medicine, see your doctor, report any episodes? Standard stuff?” He couldn’t imagine that the healthcare system would actually know what to ask of JJ, but the overcrowding, coupled with the sheer incompetence of some probably meant that they didn’t know what more to do for him. Or perhaps he had convinced them all that he was fine.

He felt the spark of irritation and it made him smirk a little bit before he looked back to the other, focusing more on his forehead than his eyes. “That bother you? That I know? You never liked that you couldn’t hide from me, did you?” He cocked his head before shaking it. He wouldn’t push the issue, unless JJ did. But he wanted to make it clear that he knew. Aaron could imagine that it was irritating, but it was what it was, wasn’t it? “I have a cat, by the way. His name’s Ranger. Got…” He gestured vaguely around his face. “a missing eye.” He did take in strays. Probably would continue to do so. He couldn’t help it. “What about you? Any pets?” He couldn’t imagine that an animal would feel settled around JJ. Animals had intuition that was almost preternatural sometimes. They’d sense danger. He wondered how his own would feel around the other man. They were smarter than him. He was drawn to JJ like a moth to flame and he could feel it even as they stood there speaking.

JJ wasn’t an empath. Far from it. He couldn’t feel others’ emotions and often couldn’t read them, either, but he understood patterns. People weren’t just emotional. They were also predictable. If he paid close enough attention for long enough, he often knew what someone would do before they even did it. That was how he’d gone unnoticed for so many years, even by his own family. He knew how fastidious his father was, methodical, and Babs was the same way. If he wanted them not to harbor suspicions, there were certain steps he had to take. It was a matter of playing the long game. Building blocks. One at a time, he’d rebuild that foundation. Then he could decide what he wanted to do with it. “You all right?”

Laughing softly, he shrugged. “I’ve seen them. It wasn’t the happiest of family reunions, but I expected that.” An apology letter wasn’t going to be what gained their trust. It would take time and concentrated effort. They would need proof. It was fortunate for them that JJ was patient. His plans were always mindful of the long game. Over time, he adapted it when he had to, but the end result stayed the same. “It went over exactly as you’re imagining. Rehabilitation efforts never include how to be accepted back into your own family, do they? Even though familial support is essential, isn’t it, to be successful? Perhaps they think I have enough of a support system.” He knew his father would go through the motions, do what needed to be done, but that was his job.

“Does it matter?” He thought about Babs, which shifted his mind into a place of authentic regret that he made no effort to hide. The medications were useful for moments like this. It was good that he was taking them, for the time being, and it didn’t change his overall goal. “Would it change anything? If I were rehabilitated, if it were genuine, what would you do? Be my friend?”

Nodding along to Aaron’s list, he recalled the paper the director of Star City Asylum made him sign in the days before his release. “Report any jobs. Change of address. Acquaintances. Monthly check-ins with the asylum. Regular therapy. Medication. Drug tests. Curfew. You’d think I’d committed a crime or something,” he added with a grin, his basket knocking against Aaron’s as he reached for a package of cheese.

JJ wasn’t smiling anymore when he looked up, his gaze locking with Aaron’s, and he didn’t answer at first. It did aggravate him, but not for the reasons he knew Aaron assumed it had. “At first, yeah. Of course. I didn’t know you. You made things worse for me in there.” Having someone around who could read him so effortlessly didn’t bode well for his efforts at getting released. “But there’s something... intoxicating at being seen, isn’t there?” No one had ever seen him before, including his own family. There was a deep-seeded resentment he had about that. He’d tried to open himself up to them, but there was a fundamental disconnect between him and most people. “No pets, but my therapist suggests I get an emotional support animal. I’m considering it.” It would look good that he was making actual effort to take his therapist’s suggestions seriously. “What happened to Ranger’s eye?”

#c: empathic-echoes

notyoursymbol:

Monster Monster Under My Bed || Babs and JJ

@james-gordon-jr

Babs knew that JJ was in town. Of course she did. She would have known even without the little letter he sent to her. She was surprised he had bothered. After all, she wasn’t sure how he could apologize for stabbing her in both of her femoral arteries, leaving knives in her paralyzed legs and then letting her drag herself along the floor of that warehouse where he had taken her, telling her all manner of horrible things. Thank God Dick had shown up. She would be dead if he hadn’t. Needless to say, she wasn’t too keen on seeing JJ ever again. Why should she be?

Of course, in spite of the fact that it was a big city, it was an increasingly small world. She rolled out of the clothing store where she had just finished picking up a gift for Steph that she had seen in the window when she saw him. With a dog… Instantly, Babs was on guard, aware of the Escrima sticks that she could reach if she needed them.

There was no avoiding him, he had seen her. And she felt that dull throbbing of dread in her stomach. “Why do you have a dog?” She demanded. No pleasantries. No greetings. Nothing.

The letter had been written over he course of JJ’s time in Arkham. He hadn’t finished it until his relocation to Star City. It spanned pages. Apologies, explanations, and long-winded sentences begging for forgiveness and recalling the good things in their shared past. There was a time when they’d been close, even though it was years ago. JJ hadn’t had any other friends as a kid. Babs was his only friend. As they grew older, that closeness had turned into a possessive and protective intensity that put anyone close to her in danger.

Despite knowing where she was, JJ hadn’t tried to see her. Not yet. He knew better than to show up on her doorstep uninvited. It wouldn’t end in the reconciliation he wanted. Running into her here and now was completely unplanned and he was sincerely surprised.

“Therapy dog,” he corrected quietly, tugging the leash so that the terrier darted back over to his side. It was small, with wiry hair. “They’re supposed to help with your mood. And it was his last day at the shelter. No one wanted him.”

#c: notyoursymbol

commissionerjg:

“You don’t stop being a kid because you’re grown. You’re still mine.” JJ would always be his son, even if that didn’t look like either of them wanted it to, and even if JJ might have preferred it not be the case at all. Jim spent a lot of time and effort keeping the world around him in place, and his eldest child was the one thing that had always been like the piece that didn’t fit. It wasn’t JJ’s fault, the way he was. Jim still sometimes wondered if it was his, somehow, and had spent all the years with JJ been in different facilities knowing that he should be doing more for him. He wasn’t a perfect man, though, and certainly not a perfect father.

There was no warmth between them and he hadn’t expected there to be. Jim wouldn’t be teasing him about finding a date like he did Barbara, he couldn’t sit down at a diner and order the breakfast he knew he liked, because he didn’t know. He didn’t know anything except what a diagnosis told him or what the doctors had said over the years. If JJ would let him, he wanted to at least work on that part.

“I’m here to give you a ride,” he confirmed. “I picked you up a few things if you want them.” Jim knew that people released from those facilities didn’t leave with much, even if the basics were provided on the other side. “Some clothes, new shoes, things like that. Had to guess at the size for some of it. There’s a backpack for you in the car.” It was his personal vehicle, for once. The squad car had seemed like it would be in poor taste.

“You don’t want to claim me as anything but a liability, pops. Don’t kid yourself. I’m not an idiot.” Far from it. JJ knew his father worked hard for his stellar reputation. It was important to him. He always knew his pride for Barbara never had and never could extent to his only son. As he got older, it became more and more obvious that he was the inferior sibling, looked down on for his... quirks. It didn’t matter how smart he was or how well he did in pharmaceutical chemistry, even though he’d largely been interested in it because he wanted to find a cure. He had, but things hadn’t shaken out the way he thought they would.

Their relationship was strained. It was difficult to believe that it could be anything else. No matter how much JJ improved, there would be that air of suspicion. Realizations like that always set him back in treatment, despite the psychiatrists’ efforts to encourage him to heal for his own sake rather than because he wanted a relationship with his family. Too much had happened for that to ever be possible.

His gaze was trained out the window, but he nodded. He didn’t ask about Babs. There was no possible way she would want to see him. “Thanks.” The word was stilted, but it was what people were supposed to say to things like that. If he thought of his father as any other person, it made this interaction easier to process; it made his feelings of inferiority and disappointment less sharp. He couldn’t let anything derail his progress. He didn’t want to go back.

#c: commissionerjg

boomsplodeyarrow:

@james-gordon-jr

The car was becoming increasingly difficult to maneuver through crowded streets, but it was still less of a hazard than walking them in uniform. She’d wondered whether or not joining the SCPD had been a poor life decision and had never wondered it harder than she did right then. She was still going to do the job, though, even if it sucked (and it super, super sucked)

One of the streets near downtown had been blocked off after one of the rioters set fire to an electronics store and the blaze had burned long enough for the street to be unsafe. It was blocked off with traffic cones and tape, warding off drivers and pedestrians alike. Kate was passing by the open end when she saw a man on the sidewalk not too far from the remnants of smoke still rolling out of the store. She turned on her lights for about the fiftieth time that day and said over the speaker, “This street is closed. Please vacate the area and return to your home.”

It sounded weirdly detached. A second later, she’d rolled down the passenger side window and shouted out in a less scripted way. “Hey! It’s not safe out here!”

The marked police car made JJ stop walking. He half expected to see his father at the wheel, but it was a girl instead. Someone he didn’t recognize. It would have been funny if she knew who he was, if his father actually told his precinct about the son he’d picked up from Star City Asylum not even a week ago, but somehow he doubted he did.

He lifted his other hand. There was a plastic bag in the other. “I’m trying to get home, officer,” he explained reasonably, nodding in the direction of the store. It was almost impossible to see inside now because of the smoke. “I just stopped to pick up a screwdriver. I’m installing a bolt for my door. Seemed like a good idea, considering.” He could easily give the impression of being a responsible citizen. It helped that he had the purchase to back it up. “The street I usually take is blocked off. Maybe you know another way?” Even as he asked, he made no move to approach the vehicle. He didn’t want her to see him as a threat. “Seriously, I’m just trying to get home.”

#c: boomsplodeyarrow

@ravenrothx

If this were another time, JJ might have taken advantage of the chaos. There were ways to do it. The best time to carry out a plan was when everyone was distracted. Being acutely aware of this and feeling nothing but awareness of a missed opportunity made him realize just how separate he was from the world around him. It made things inconvenient and that was it. He couldn’t go to the store and buy anything without running into disorderly insanity.

There was something distasteful about it. He left the looted convenience store after leaving money on the counter, pausing just outside the door when he saw an unfamiliar figure. “You missed them. I don’t know which way they went.” JJ had an automatic distaste for heroes in their capes. Men like Batman and Superman were no more heroic than anyone else just because they had the resources and ability to deliver “justice.”

#c: ravenrothx

@helenahunts

“Just trying to get home, sir.” JJ had said it twice already. The NOVA agent kept going through his wallet. One of them was holding an inhibitor, as if that did anything, and he knew they were giving him a hard time because of his old man. Everyone knew who Jim Gordon was. Usually that gave JJ an edge, but in Star City it wasn’t giving him anything but a hassle. He wouldn’t think it was possible for his father to have issues with authority, but these weren’t typical government agents.

He stayed calm even when the one with the inhibitor started throwing questions at him. “Look, I’m just trying to get home. Like I said. I live around the corner. You can check my ID, address is there. You can even walk me home if you want.” The back of his neck was burning, but he just grinned.

#c: helenahunts

celebritiesandmovies

Lakeith Stanfield for Esquire

Please LIKE for an event starter from JJ if your character is currently in Star City!

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empathic-echoes:

Shopping. He wasn’t so sure about that. Well… that was probably ridiculous. It wasn’t like he couldn’t be there to shop. Still, his eyes darted to the basket and then back to the milk. He still avoided the eye contact. Aaron was better about than he used to be with most people, but if he looked JJ in the eyes, that would probably… not be great for him. Or maybe he’d be fine. He wasn’t sure. “Right,” he answered. “That really the kind of stuff you eat?” It looked like a bunch of random crap in a basket, not that Aaron said it out loud. JJ was one of the most intelligent people he had ever met. He was willing to bet that he’d put the implications together on his own.

“I didn’t know you were in Star City.” If he had, he might have been more careful. Granted, Aaron hadn’t really kept tabs on JJ. For the sake of his own sanity, it had been better for him not to. Now, perhaps, he was realizing that was a mistake. “How… when did you get here?” Had it been before Aaron? He had to be careful how much he said to the other. Anything too detailed and he could be in trouble. Aaron hadn’t ever quite worked out why JJ was the way he was aside from the general mind state. And then there was the thrill. The thrill had been something so dangerous when it had settled over him. Aaron had actually spent months after he’d nearly killed Linda praying that it was JJ’s thrill and not… his own. Because there was something deeply exciting and freeing, in the darkest parts of his mind, about the idea that he could have killed her. That there would have been so much power in the loss of her life and it being by his hand. He only hoped to God–if there was one–that that was because of the mind he had affected.

“Are you?” He asked. He remembered how it had felt. The difference between JJ on drugs and JJ off them. Now, in spite of himself, Aaron did glance up.

Mistake. Because instantly the world looked… different. Greyer. Not literally, of course, but enough that he realized what was going on. Still… within that grey there was a deep sense of dark blue. A guilt that wasn’t in the pretty little monochrome world usually. He could feel it heavy in his chest, like it was. Like it belonged there. It didn’t burn so brightly that he couldn’t handle it, but it was there and it was so starkly different from everything else because it was there. It was a basic analysis, because when his mutation begged to go deeper, he had to make himself aware of it and jerk his gaze away from JJ’s own. And all at once it was too fucking loud again. In JJ’s mind it was like… floating in a black sea. Glassy, calm. Free from the tumult of others. And since Aaron could never just stop his mutation’s passive action, it was enticing to just… live in JJ’s mindscape.

His hand tightened white on the handles of the basket at his side. Milk, chips, dog food. “You feel sorry,” he said flatly. “That’s different. Part of what you didn’t like before.” He tried to speak flatly, but he had gone in deep enough to be visibly shaken, but not enough for the psychocompetency to kick in and loan him JJ’s own level nonchalance.

The items in the basket didn’t exactly go together, even though they were all grabbed from the same aisle. Pasta. Ketchup. Paper plates. That was it. JJ had already gone shopping earlier in the week and he didn’t actually need anything. “Full disclosure: it’s my second time in here this week, but those new meds, man, the second I forget something it’s just -” He snapped his fingers. The sound was jarringly loud. “You know how it is. Makes your mind all fuzzy.” He noticed that Aaron wasn’t looking at him. It was something to make note of, but he wouldn’t point it out.

“Transferred. Better facilities. And my behavior was on the up and up, had been for a while, and Star City has a transition program. Would think you’d be happy for me. I even went through all the steps. I wrote my dad a letter. Wrote Babs one, too.” They were long, rambling letters, filled with sentiments that he had trouble identifying as genuine. It was hard to know if what he felt and experienced came from his own mind or were exaggerated by the medication. It was possible that the changes he made to the original chemical compound could have permanently damaged his ability to produce those feelings naturally. Maybe he would always need it. This troubled him in a distinctly distant way, but he it wasn’t something to focus on right now. He wasn’t going to do anything that would bring attention to himself right now.

Still, already he was feeling the isolating, repetitive effect of his day to day routine. JJ didn’t enjoy the inevitable guilt that came over him when he reflected on his crimes, something that happened more often now that he was being forced to see a psychiatrist regularly. “They released me a couple days ago,” he continued. “With a list of conditions.”

Instead of offering an answer, he met Aaron’s gave evenly when he finally looked up at him. There was no point in explaining the situation when he knew Aaron would be able to grasp it on his own. He knew what his abilities were and what he was capable of. While JJ was able to fool most of the other therapists or profilers, he couldn’t fool a empath. There weren’t any mind tricks he could practice that could effectively mask what he lacked. “That answers your question, doesn’t it?” He didn’t say yes or no, but the observation irritated him. There was a restlessness in the way the basket rocked in his hand, when he gestured at the bag of dog food. “Always thought you were more of a cat person.” He shrugged. “But also the type to take in strays.”

#c: empathic-echoes

brown-eyes-blue

empathic-echoes:

He just needed a few things. Dog food, Milk, and those chips made from lentils that he couldn’t stop eating. It was repeated in his head like a mantra. Dog food, Milk, Chips. If he could think it loud enough, focus hard enough, then maybe the barrage of people wouldn’t be overwhelming. He could feel so many things all the time, and more than 75% of those things didn’t even belong to him. He wanted to go home, have dinner, and maybe play the piano for a little bit. Relax. But he couldn’t forget to feed Daisy and Copernicus or he’d never feel the end of it.

It was probably why he didn’t pick out the familiar–hauntingly familiar–set of emotions immediately. Or perhaps it was because they were so muted. It had been fascinating when Aaron had first met JJ, before they had put him on the drugs that enhanced his emotions, because he was one of the most emotionally muted people Aaron had ever encountered. For an empath, that was… wild. After all, the only other people he couldn’t really feel were telepaths. But that was an all or nothing. Everyone else had an emotional story to tell. But JJ’s had actually taken some work to read. Perhaps that was why Aaron had wanted to so badly.

The voice sent ice down his spine. He remembered feeling like that. Or… not feeling. Instantly, his mind begged to dissociate into it. It was addicting. An addiction Aaron had worked hard to shake, because his empathy was the way he helped the world. His positive affectation of it. But JJ’s mental set had been so… comforting. Even when he’d held a knife to Linda’s throat with every intention of killing her… it had felt… different.

“What the Hell are you doing here?” Aaron asked, eyes fixed on the milks in the display as he fought with his own mutation as JJ pulled on him without even trying. He wondered if the other man realized what affect his mind had on Aaron’s? If he did, he’d probably relish in it. It was why Aaron didn’t look. He couldn’t yet. Being blindsided meant becoming JJ, and Aaron didn’t want to do it in the middle of a damn supermarket. Or at all, if he was honest.

JJ knew all about Aaron’s sensitivities. It was something he’d eagerly exploited before, when it worked for him, and he never felt particularly guilty about it. An empath willingly working with sociopaths couldn’t expect anything else, could they? In that way, he brought it on himself. Granted, it turned into a problem when Aaron pinpointed his cessation of his medication, which led to the nurse finding the pills he’d hoarded in his pillow. He’d been infuriated with Aaron at that point. Anger was the one emotion he could feel on his own, even when his heart rate stayed the same. He could keep things hidden from most people. The fact that Aaron had the ability to know things enraged him.

“Shopping.” He indicated the basket in his hand, which held some arbitrary items he’d tossed inside on his way to the back. “Is it a coincidence you live in my neighborhood, or were you feeling nostalgic?” Before Aaron could respond, JJ held up his other hand in a mock half-surrender. “Don’t worry. I’m taking my meds.” He grinned and stepped forward, swinging the basket between his hands. “I’m going to therapy, too. Doing all the right things, can’t you tell?”

He noticed Aaron wasn’t looking at him. There weren’t a lot of things that escaped his notice. Even though his focus was on the conversation, he was mindful of everything happening around him, too. Intelligence was the only family trait he had in spades.

#c: empathic-echoes

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