Nothing will ever be the same. Part 3
Warnings/Tags: Angst, little comfort, a lot of flashbacks (italic), mentions of psychological and physical torture, forced drug use, slight dub!con (just a kiss), insane reader.
Word count: 3.4K (holy fuck me)
Author's notes: Look at me finishing something from last year! Unfortunately, it would be the last part of this fic. Honestly, I haven't expected it get this long at all and I'm all out of inspiration and ideas on how to finish it (even after rewatching season 2). As always inspired and based loosely on the episodes 3-4 of season 2 of Gen V with minimum mentions of the main plot (But maybe spoilers?). Reader has empathy powers, allowing them to sense and manipulate emotions of others. They were in situationship with Jordan before Marie entered the picture.
P.S. I haven't forgotten about Frankenstein AU either working on it slowly right now.
- You sense what Jordan is about to do at the same moment as they go up on stage. You stand in the back of the crowd, unthinkingly drawn there by the bright flickers of emotions. Like a moth to a flame. Your senses and powers pick up too much for your scrambled, damaged brain to process. Then the words start to pour out of their mouth, and you stumble, bumping into some girl in the crowd. She, you think it's Justine, wants to protest but you shut her up with the flick of your wrist, letting your powers take control. Your eyes never leave their face, as she falls to the ground whimpering in pain. You are fixated on the way Jordan switches mid sentence. On the steel and underlying fear ringing in each word. Their quick scared glance to Marie brings up a memory that you rather forget.
"Fuck, I'm not supposed to need you anymore." Jordan lets out a pained whisper when they collapse into your arms, hurt, tired and scared. The allure of familiar comfort is too great for them to resist it now. Her body goes limp on top of yours, pushing you deeper into the mattress, when they finally stop pouring out their fears about all the fucked up shit they got themself into. And the fear that Marie only likes them when they are a guy. The familiar story of their first girlfriend, Jenny, is told again while you listen attentively, nodding and offering bits of reassurance when silences stretch. Even if all you feel is sick to your stomach.You weren't there for Dusty's party or whatever happened before that. But you saw the videos.
You were hiding in your dorm away from Tek Knight, pretending to be sick and contagious unwilling to let him interview you even if it meant expulsion or being blamed for Luke's suicide. It was late at night when your phone screen lit up with notifications, almost vibrating itself off your desk to the floor.
The first video you open is the only one you see. At first it's just a crowd of party goers dancing and grinding on one another. Nothing new. Then a camera pans out on Jordan. Kissing a new girl. Marie. Their hands all over one another. You let out a shriek and drop your phone. It lands face up and video loops. There they are again, Jordan griping her ass like they can't get enough. Your heart shatters.You can't breathe. You feel like you have been punched in the gut. Your measly dinner of instant ramen reappears just when you reach the sink, throwing up until your throat burns and all you can taste on your tongue is bile.
"It's stupid. Illogical. Calm yourself." You whimper to yourself in the midst of dry heaving, sliding down the cold wall, tears dripping down your face. But you can't. Your lips quiver as you wipe them off with the corner of your towel.
"It was just situationship without feelings. Two friends hooking up when drunk and high. A bit of nice stress relief. There's nothing to be upset about. Good for them." You murmur lies to yourself. In your most masochistic state, you reach for the phone again wanting to turn it off but end up spending 3 hours watching all the stories from the party, noticing here and there two familiar figures intertwined in hungry kisses and then disappearing up the stairs to find an empty room.
You don't move beyond automatically wrapping your arms around them. 'Because that's what friends do.They help each other. And Jordan needs me now.' You think even as your heart shatters again. The tiny shards feel like they are puncturing your insides that already start to rot, filling your mouth with the taste of bile.
- You want to scream, to rage, to do something when you hear the crowd grow silent and then start to boo. But your body doesn't move. Doesn't react in any way, except crumbling onto its knees, limp like a puppet with its strings cut. A weak murmur of Hickory Dickory Dock spills from your mouth. But inside, you are screaming like you are back in Elmira banging on the steel walls. Completely powerless. Unable to do anything. Unable to stop things from unraveling in front of your eyes.
- In windwhirl of everything after their speech, the announcement of the fight, Jordan barely has time to realise they haven't seen you in a while. Not since they caught a glimpse of you in the crowd, punching out Justine. They were so entangled in their own misery they forgot about you. Only when they instinctively reach for you and you are not there, do they feel a ping of guilt and regret. Especially when they remember something.
You are laying on their bed, parallel to Jordan as you both stare at the white ceiling of their dorm room. Their long legs are thrown onto the wall as you pass a joint between both of you. A quiet celebration of the exam season behind you, with nothing but two long weeks of holidays ahead of you.
"You know what my greatest fear is?" You ask out of the blue, puffing smoke out of your lungs with a ragged cough. Jordan hums in acknowledgement of your words, taking a blunt from your fingers. The end tastes faintly of your cherry chapstick, causing shivers to run down their spine. The indirect kiss stirring the familiar warmth inside them, bringing memories of your lips on their's, then on their neck, while they grip your hips, grinding slowly against you.
"That people are hanging out with me because I'm useful and the moment I'm not they would just... Puff!" You exclaim, imitating an explosion with your hands."Vanish. Leaving me all alone."
Your shy words bring Jordan out of the arousing daydream. They blink slowly, turning their head to look at you still staring up, fascinated by your outstretched and gently swaying arms.
"You know that's bullshit." Jordan says bluntly, after a long pause, hooking their finger under your chin to turn your face to them. "I'm always gonna be there. No matter how useless you are." She chuckles, leaning in to capture your lips in a tender kiss, something much softer than just two best friends occasionally hooking up.
- It doesn't take long for Jordan to find you. Even before your trip to Elmira you hated being alone. So your dorm was out of the question. You would be somewhere with a high foot traffic, trying to drown yourself in the emotions of others. As Jordan enters the Student Union building, the aura of forced calm turns suffocating. A twinge of worry passes their features, their long legs picking up the pace, almost running, despite being afraid of what they are going to find.
- The cloud is thickest around the Jitter Bean stand. The human barista, usually twitchy and scared, looks slightly dazed, her gaze glazed over more than any anti-anxiety pills could do. She drones out a leveled, standard greeting, as if she is bored out of her skull. And not receiving death and rape threats twenty times a day. A thin whisper of a Hickory Dickory Dock grabs their attention to the reason for it all.
- You are huddled in the corner of the booth, wrapped in the dirty brown hoodie so big it swallows you whole. Your lap, floor and shelves around you are covered in napkins. Each one of them is covered in childish drawings. Even as Jordan looks at you, they see another simple flower blooming on the tissue under the corner sun and a few fluffy clouds. So many flowers, littles crooked houses, stick figures and sun. On every brown square is a messy, splattered with ink from the dry erase marker, sun. Your fingers are stained with markers as well, painfully reminding Jordan of all those times they saw them stained with pen from how furiously you were writing down notes.
- A discarded open marker rolls away from their boot when Jordan squats next to you. Seeing you, or whatever is you now, sitting there on the floor among the mess, shatters something in them. 'No, no, no, no. Not now. Please not now.' Jordan thinks as they sink onto their knees. He brushes the errand napkins from the top of your head and shoulders adding to the mess under the pastry display. You regard their distress with disinterest rivaling on mockery of your usual worried expression.
- "Look at what I drew..." you drone showing Jordan a messy napkin with nothing but squiggly lines. Your eyes are mismatched again, the awful white iris blank beneath your lashes. The petrification runs through their entire body, settling like a curdled milk in the bottom of their stomach.
- “Yeah, that's really pretty.” Jordan murmurs automatically taking the napkin and tucking it into their pocket. “Why don't we go back to your dorm, hmm?” They suggest taking both of your hands in theirs, trying to pull you to your feet. Your fingers are like two frozen chunks of tundra, sending another unpleasant shock through Jordan. Barista looks at the unfolding scene with drugged indifference, mirroring the empty look in your mismatched eyes.
- "We can't take them, Jordan!" Cate protests loudly, halfway into the exasperated eye roll, her hands on her hips. "Look at them! They are not alright! What if they get us caught?"
Before Jordan can reply you perk up, swiveling on one foot between the two of them.
- "I can help. Be a distraction. See?" You drone on the last syllable jumping sideways into the traffic of walking students. You catch the nearest passing guy, wrapping both of your arms around one of his. "Hi, I'm lost. Can you help me?" You let out a murmur which should sound charming and disarming but ultimately doesn't. Nothing but a twisted version of all of those things. But the guy goes complacent next to you anyway, wrapping his arm around you with an unintelligible hum. He kisses you next, despite the small noise of protest you don't pull away. Even if inside you are wrung with disgust because he tastes like cheap craft beer and garlic.
- Before you can do anything Jordan steps in, pushing the guy away so violently he lands on his ass 6 feet away from you. "What the fuck are you doing?" They hiss, taking you by the elbow harsher than they intended to. The dark ball of something unpleasant gnaw at their insides just at the sight of you kissing someone else. Or maybe it's because of your silent discomfort at the ordeal without objecting.
- "See?" You chirp with a wide, empty smile, blinking slowly at Jordan. "A distraction!" You add with an attempt at flourish but just stumble back, surely falling on your ass if not for Jordan. Then your face goes vacant again as your mismatched eyes move away from their face to peer at the sky and a green lawn in front of the Crimefighting building.
- "Look! A human sized butterfly. Would they scream when I pull their wings off?" You chime, fascinated by the view of one of the new professors with wings going down the path. Jordan glances at her too, swallowing thickly. The dark-brown eyes are suddenly full of fear and uncertainty that you don't notice as panic rises in their chest. If you assault another supe, a teacher, that's definitely a one way ticket to Elmira. Cate shoots them an unimpressed look, tapping at her watch pointedly. Jordan scowls at the blond, pulling you with them in the direction of their car. You don't struggle, just wave your free arm in a wave like a child would imagine their toy plane flying.
- You hum in the back of the car, scooting closer to the edge of the backseat despite the belt biting into your body. Your now gangly fingers reach for Jordan, mesmerized by the gentle swaying of their bob with each turn of the car. You twist a few locks. Jordan shifts instinctively preparing to feel a hard tug on their hair but your hands are surprisingly gentle, separating shiny strands, twisting them in a small braid, bringing more memories.
You are leaning against the headboard of your bed. Jordan is splayed between your legs, their head propped on your stomach so they can see the tv.
After weeks of shameless begging and blatant sabotage/ blackmail, they finally agreed to watch your favourite show with you. They grumble something about how stupid it is as you mouth the line at the same time as the actor on screen. But you sense they enjoy it. Especially when your restless fingers find the way into their hair.
Jordan lets out a low sound of pleasure as your nails scratch at their scalp lightly. You can see their eyelashes flutter obscuring their vision for a moment.
"Are you trying to bribe me into watching more of this nonsense with a head massage?" Jordan muses, tilting their head up just enough to look at your face.
“Maybe.” You say with a mischievous smile playing on your lips. Before you can stop yourself you are leaning in to place a gentle kiss to the tip of their nose. You both freeze at the contact, staring down at each other with wide eyes like two startled bunnies.
“Yeah, sure, let's watch it then.” Jordan says hoarsely, clearing their throat. They look away from you quickly staring straight at the tv. Your cheeks are warm as your hands return to their hair, braiding little braids that unwind as soon as they are done leaving their hair slightly frizzy and utterly disheveled. But you can swear you see their cheek flush with light pink colour at the innocent kiss.
- Alone. Again. In solitary. Darkness is almost so complete it makes no difference if you keep eyes open or closed. And silence. Not even the beep of the machinery, nor a drip of the water or muffled footsteps from the outside. Three meters thick walls and a reinforced steel door with the sound dampener all around. Silence so complete you can hear the blood rushing through your body. The pleasantly warm air in the cell makes you shiver violently. You tremble to the point of your shoes making tiny squeaky sounds on the bare concrete floor.
It's about 4 am before the biggest test of your life. It can either make or break the last 2 years of your hard work and dedication. The tremors start to set in. Small at first, just tapping your foot against the floor. Then your fingers start to drum out the dissonant rhythm next to your notebook. The one you have been trying to memorize for the past twelve hours. You are so consumed by stress and overthinking, that you don't notice the bed creaking and Jordan approaching you from behind. Not until their warm hand covers yours, stilling it against the desk.
"You are not fucking concentrating." A smooth slightly teasing voice so close to your ear, their breath ruffles your hair pushed behind your ear by the soft headband. You turn your palm up under theirs to intertwine your fingers together. The gooseflesh torturing your skin dissolves with the final shiver down your spine as you relax against the back of your chair, seeking their warmth.
"I can hear you overthinking from the bed. I swear a few more moments and steam would come pouring out of your ears." Jordan adds, as you feel him hook their chin over your shoulder. Their free hand messes up your hair when they imitate the steam coming from the top of your head and you finally let out a small chuckle at their antics. The stress still looms over you but less now, pushed back by their mere presence near you. You catch a glimpse of their dimply smile in the small mirror on the corner of your desk, your heart racing in your chest for an entirely new reason now.
- You try to speak, to hum, to produce any sound but your lips refuse to move. Your head is empty, but for the fear and anguish of being back in The Bad Place. You claw at your arms, scratching the needle scars now on display by your short sleeves. The sound of nails on skin is swallowed by the soundproofing the instant they leave your skin.
- The tendrils of your powers lick at your skin, kept close by the collar around your neck. They climb your limbs uselessly like vines, falling down when they can't pick up any electromagnetic signature but your own. You can taste your own despair on your tongue, and feel your own fear building behind your useless eyes.
- Jordan just starts to realize that they have never seen where in the Elmira you were kept. From the moment of your forceful arrival to the moment when Andre organised the failed attempt to break out, nor after. The door is heavy when they pull it open, darkness shattering in the tiny million pieces around the beam of light from the hallway. Then you scream. The anguished pained scream of the animal being caught in the bear trap. The scream for mercy or deliverance, even when one knows there's none to come. Jordan can just make out your small, way too small, unnaturally small form scuttle away in the furthest corner of the cell before they are knocked down. The mass of the electrical charge rushes through the open doorway, with enough static to make the hair stand up on their entire body.
- "Hey, hey, (Y/N), it's me. Jordan." They say hurriedly, trying their best to shush you as to not alert all the guards in the nearby facility. You stare blankly at them with the mismatched eyes full of nothing but terror. Your voice has given out leaving you crying long and thinly like a scared, wounded puppy. Their hands find your cheeks, despite the static covering your skin, pinpricking their palms like dozens tiny needles.
-"Hey, look at me. (Y/N), look at me. It's me, Jordie." They cringe internally at the nickname even as they say it, something so sweet turned to acid. You freeze against them, too scared to move. Just the same thin whimper filling the air between you. Jordan tries to pull you to your feet, you cry out and refuse to budge. They try to pick you up, you jolt away from them and fall to the ground with another whimper of pain.
- "Please, we need to go." They beg softly, vulnerable and scared, kneeling once again in front of you. "Please, come back." Jordan cups your cheeks in their hands again, searching those mismatched eyes for a sliver of a person they know is there somewhere. The person who they loved once. Still do? Maybe? It's all so confusing now with your face so thin and gaunt contorted in pure horror between their palms. Your eyes appear too large for it, making the effect of your empty stare so much more terrifying. Their eyes dart over your face not knowing what to do, how to help, fear of getting caught cursing through them is overpowering. Then you whimper again and Jordan zeroes out on your lips. Except being chapped, dry from dehydration settling in, they are the same. The ones that used to murmur their silly nickname between soft kisses and reassuring words. The ones that said 'I love you' so freely. It’s a long shot, but Jordan does the only thing they can think of. An act of foolish desperation. They kiss you.
- The first feeling that you are fully aware of is their lips on yours, slightly cracked but still sweet. You let out a strangled sound in the back of your throat, your shaky hands flying to cover theirs on your face. Your eyes, same colour again, widen in surprise only to meet their dark trembling lashes and pained expression as Jordan doesn't let you go. Not until they have to come up for air.
- "Wha..?" You start to speak, eyes wide and blinking rapidly when Jordan pulls away, their hands sliding down your arms to grip yours. They tug you to your feet. "Later. I will explain everything later. Just stay with me."
