Jigsaw // Blue: Part Three
Painted Ponies
A/N: This is the final part to Blue...but is it the end of the road for Billy? (side note, this is number 16/19 smooches!! three more for Billy, and then a special bonus one to make up for all the heartache I’ve caused.)
Warning: language, violence, graphic descriptions, murder, character death THIS ONE IS ROUGH.
Word Count: 4,112
Prompt from: @luminex3
Vision obscured by the thick warm blood dripping into his eyes, he curled the shattered digits of his left hand around Frank’s bruised and broken knuckles, and around the handle of the blade held to his throat. His right arm hung limply at his side, radius, ulna and humerus completely snapped from the elbow joint after the forceful blow his former brother delivered to the fulcrum of his arm, making it bend 180 degrees in the wrong direction. He could hear the haunting sound of the carnival music as the horses continued to prance on their poles, garbled as though he was three feet under water. The blue lights were meant to be bright and cheerful, but all he saw was the hazy halos around the bulbs, throwing a ghoulish glow over everything. It was over, done. That last ditch punch he’d thrown was more of an involuntary response than one that he thought would land any damage, and he wanted the end, wanted the peace, something he never thought he’d long for.
The glass before him was cracked in several places, and the reflection was one he couldn’t recognize. So much had gone wrong, so much had been broken well past the point of repair. It took everything in him to blink, to raise his eyes to the hate filled pair looking down on him in the mirror, but he did because it was all that was left to do. Frank’s nostrils flared and his chest heaved as he tightened the hold he had on the back of Billy’s head. But as the lights changed from blue to red in his blurred and fading field of vision, he thought he saw something other than hatred in that glare; he thought he saw hesitation. Go on, do it Frankie… I got nothin’ left.
“Kill me.” He choked, throat and lips slick with blood.
Billy woke with a gasping cough, half expecting red stains on the pillowcase. Heart racing and adrenaline high, his thoughts threw themselves against the walls of his skull. Frank? He squeezed his eyes shut tying to guard against the onslaught. Frank? Why...why would… The last memory he had of Frank was from overseas, making jokes and giving him shit about settling down with a girl...with you. Frank wouldn’t… that’s...he’s my brother. Pain cut through his head, between his eyes, splitting his brain. I need to know. I need to… to know if… He looked to his left and out the window, quickly noting the sun’s position in the sky. Judging by where it sat between two neighboring buildings, he could tell it was a few minutes earlier than normal, but not so early that he would have to wait. Close enough. “KRISTA!”
He bellowed her name, voice sounding foriegn to his own ears as it cracked and broke. He hated how reliant he was on her to confirm or deny the things he saw and felt and remembered, despised the way she made him struggle to decipher his dreams while she held all of the answers in that fucking folder. Enough of the fucking games. I need to know. He repeated his shouts until footsteps echoed quickly and he heard the distinct sound of keys jingling in a pocket. Focusing on controlling his breathing and stilling his jittering thigh, he pulled himself up to sit back against the pillows, eyes trained on the turning door handle.
The last two weeks had been different, memories coming through with more clarity, more detail. He’d found a way to tell the difference between things that happened and things that only happened when he slept. In the dreams, things had a glow around their edges, a misty haze making everything softer. He’d stuck with that theory and had been proven right twice, though he’d been tempted to ignore it when he had the dream about the airport; leaving the terminal alone with his bag, the automatic doors opening up and the gray light of morning hitting the sidewalk...where you stood, the breeze lifting your hair and your smile lifting your cheeks. He tried to forget the shine as he wrapped you in his arms and devoured your sighs, pulling you as close as he could. But that’s not how it happened.
The memories had sharper edges, more refined, more realistic. The memory of a bright screen casting a soft blue light in a semi-dark tent, his badly bruised fingers moving over the keys as he fought the urge to delete the words, staring at them for long minutes before moving the cursor and clicking the send button, then logging off. It would be better for both of us if we don’t see each other for a while. I’ll call you when it’s okay. He couldn’t remember if you’d sent a response, couldn’t fathom a reason for sending you such a curt, final message. But he knew that was what had happened, knew it even before a print out was pulled from that fucking folder and placed in his shaking hands, the exact words he remembered typed out in 12 point font.
“Why...why do you have this? Why do you have this and, and and the pictures? Why? How do you know about her anyway?” He curled his fist around the paper, crumpling it in his sweaty palm. “Why do you have all this?”
“Billy, I’m trying to help you put everything back in order.” She answered with a slight tilt to her head as the morning sun streamed in between the cracked window blinds. Bullshit. “I didn’t know you before your accident, didn’t know what your life was like.” You still fuckin’ don’t. “I needed to know as much about you as I could so I could help you try to understand what happened to you.” Her eyes were calm and her smile was unchanging.
“Does she know?” He sniffed, nose twitching as he raised the mask, letting it sit on top of his closely cropped hair. “Does she know you’re...you’re digging around in her life like this? Huh?” He widened his eyes and raised one eyebrow, nostrils flaring. “Leave her the fuck alone, Krista. Leave her alone!” He seethed, balling up the email and throwing it forcefully at the floor.
Still unflinching, Dr. Dumont sat straighter, tilting her chin slightly in the opposite direction. “Alright, Billy, I promise I’ll leave her alone.” She adjusted the file in her lap, neatly tucking the pages back inside before she rose. “I think that’s a good stopping point for today.” Her smile spread, filling her eyes with an almost ominous gleam. “Try to work on connecting what you know, now, Billy. Let go of the things you can’t change, focus on the things that will give you the answers you’re looking for.” With that she’d turned on the ball of her foot and held herself at her full height as she exited the room, the door barely clicking closed before a nurse and an orderly were coming through to keep up with the daily routine.
But this vision with Frank on the carousel, this was in heightened definition. This one sliced through like a razor, no glow, no doubt. Why would Frankie do this to me? Why did I think I had nothin’ left? He knew she had the answers, and he wasn’t letting her leave without getting them this time.
She burst into his room, eyes wide and lips parted, breathing slightly labored from running down the hall. “Billy?” She was flanked by two guards but she continued walking towards him, ignoring their attempts to stay between her and her patient. “Billy, are you alright? What’s wrong?”
“You tell me, doc.” He popped his shoulder with a little twist, cocking his head to the side.
Taking a step closer to his bedside, Krista turned to the guards and waved them off, like she always did. They looked to one another before heading for the door. Billy could still see the backs of their heads through the small window, but for now it was just him and Dumont, and he grinned to himself as she pulled the keys from her pocket. “What do you mean, Billy? Did you have another dream?” She held up the keys as she asked, indicating to him that she was going to undo his cuffs. He nodded slowly, and as soon as one hand was free, he used it to pull the mask off.
“Yeah. I did. And I got questions for you, Krista.” She unlocked his other wrist and he stood quickly from the bed, crossing the room to the window. He thought he caught a gasp of surprise at his abrupt action, a slight unsettling in her fearless facade. Reaching up, he pulled the chord to raise the blinds, exposing the room to more light, and opening up the view of the bustling street far below. He turned back to the chairs, permanently positioned in front of the window, gesturing to them in a welcoming manner. “Take a seat, let’s talk.” He sat in the seat he always occupied, looking straight ahead at the empty one across from him for a few seconds before turning back to where Krista still stood, watching him closely. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he pointed to the gaping glass hole in the wall. “This...you don’t like this, do you?”
Krista cleared her throat and came out of the light trance she’d fallen into when he’d sprang from the bed. “It’s fine, Billy, if you want the blinds open, that’s okay.” She walked slowly to her seat, eyes on him as she sank into it, crossing her legs.
“Bullshit,” he almost laughed through the grin. “I’ve seen the way you don’t get too close. I notice how you never look out. I see these things, Krista.” He watched as she swallowed, a lump moving down her throat. “Sucks, havin’ somethin’ like that right in your face, doesn’t it?”
“Facing our fears is important, Billy. You’re...you’re right. I am afraid...but I’m working on that fear, just like you’re working on what’s haunting you.” She looked quickly towards the window to prove her point before turning back to face him. “Now, you wanted to talk about something?”
Another near laugh. “Yeah.”
She opened her hands. “Where do you want to start, Billy?”
“Let’s start with Frank Castle.” He noted a flicker of recognition, of alarm cross her eyes. Yeah, that’s what I thought. He brought two fingers up in front of his face, pointing out the jagged scars. “Frank did this to me, didn’t he?”
“Is that what you remember, Billy?”
“Enough of your fucking questions.” He gripped the ends of the arm rest, scooting himself closer to the edge of his seat. “Tell me. Tell me Frank did this to me.”
She had the nerve to shake her head slowly. “You know that’s not how this works. Tell me what you remember, and I’ll tell you if it’s true.”
Anger rose in his gut and his knuckles strained at his skin as he tightened his grip on the chair. But before he could respond, the memory from his dream cut back through his brain. He tried to blink it away but it kept playing out, blocking out the present and immersing him in that blue light, that blood soaked moment, surrounded by painted horses, Frank ready to deliver him a fatal blow.
He tossed the knife aside and released his grip on Billy’s blood soaked hair. “I’m not gonna let you die today, Bill. Dyins easy.” With less than half a second’s pause, a boot sole landed squarely between Billy’s shoulder blades, forcing him forward into the shattered mirror. Dull pain erupted across his head and down his spine but before it could fully register, Frank was readying to throw him into the glass again. “You’re gonna learn about pain. You’re gonna learn about loss.” Two more times, Frank slammed Billy’s head against the mirrored wall, his face butchered and sliced, chunks of jagged mirror stuck in the deep lacerations. The music, the lights, everything was gone, replaced by a high pitched ring and the low, gravely sound of Frank’s voice as he stooped down beside Billy. “Every day I look for ‘em Bill. Every morning...and then I remember.”
Billy blinked. The cracked glass was falling from the frame in front of him, but for the briefest of moments he saw something in what was left of the mirror- he saw you, your arms reaching for him, a sad look on your face. I’m sorry… He blinked again and you were gone.
“It’s gonna be the same for you.” Frank threw him hard against the glass then, leaving him slumped in the corner. The crunch of Frank’s boots receded until there was nothing but silence, and Billy closed his eyes, feeling himself letting go. Something on his shoulder stopped him, and he recognized the distinct weight of your hand, the sound of your voice as you sobbed his name and held him close to your chest. “Billy, hold on…” you pleaded. Anything you want.
With a gasp and a cough he shook his head, eyes flying open to take in the white room, doused in daylight. Breaths coming in shallow gulps, his chest heaved under his shirt. Nausea roiled in waves. Was she there? Was she there that night? “Frank...Frank did this...I...I betrayed him...betrayed his family...this,” he pointed to his face, poking at the bullet hole in his cheek. “This was payback...punishment for…” The poking stopped and he scrubbed one hand over his face. Why would I…
“Frank is the one who did this to you, Billy, yes.” Her voice snapped his focus back up to her face. “He did that to you...and...and you remember why now?”
I got his family killed… I… He winced, grabbing at his ears as more pieces of memories came tumbling out of the gash in his brain. A phone call, a quickly scribbled note. That email wasn’t the last correspondence that he had with you.
“I can’t talk long.”
“Billy?” your voice sounded the same, all those months later, but tinged with a sadness that he wasn’t familiar with.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s me, listen, I needed to tell you somethin’...you...you get the flowers?”
He’d dropped them off himself that afternoon- blue irises, your favorites, his note simple and without his name attached, only three words : I love you.
“Yeah, Billy...I...they were on my doorstep when I got home, I...Billy, where are you? Can I see you? You...you said you’d call when it was okay and…”
“No, listen, I need you to stay put, okay? Things are...fuck, I got into some shit and it’s bad. I’m gonna finish it tonight but you...I needed to make sure you knew… in case I...in case somethin’ happens.”
“Billy, people are asking me about you...police...homeland agents and...and…” he could hear the tears behind your words, and the fear and hurt in your voice twisted his insides. “I haven’t said anything, Billy...I...I don’t know anything...you just… you disappeared...Billy, don’t do this...don’t disappear again, please...please, Billy, I… I love you and...just let me see you, please?”
“I’ll call you when it’s over. Stay put...okay?”
“Yeah…” you whispered. “Yeah, Billy… okay…”
“I told her I got into trouble...somethin’...somethin’ went wrong and I told her I had to…” he squeezed his temples, trying to force the rest of the memory from his mind like a tube of toothpaste.
“What kind of trouble? On deployment?” Krista leaned in, her focus sharp.
“Yeah… it...we…” he was suddenly hit with a barrage of facts, rattling them off as though he’d had them in his back pocket all along. Operation Cerberus, assassinations, dirty missions, Rawlins, betrayals and killings on U.S. soil...The room spun as he fought to keep himself upright.
“Billy,” Krista was scribbling hastily on her notepad, eyes wide with shock. “I...we’ll have someone look into all of this right away but..if…” she finished writing, closing her note pad and giving him her full attention, even reaching for his hand. He snatched it away as soon as she made contact. “If any of that is true, we might be able to get some charges against you dropped...if the government is involved in any of this… if”
“Homeland. She said...she said homeland agents were…” he tapped his fingers against the top of his head. “Were callin’ her and…”
Krista nodded and the room stopped spinning. “They were...well...one was. Do you… Billy can you recall the agent’s name?”
He was almost there, approaching the gates around the colorful attraction, the silver moon shining down to light his way, when he heard a pair of hurried footsteps behind him. Gun drawn, he spun, eyes scanning the shadows, quiet save for the gasp in response to his turn. What the…
“Billy?” You whimpered his name as you stepped closer, hands in front of you.
He holstered his weapon immediately, crossing the distance with long strides, your name falling from his lips as his heart thundered in his chest. No. No, she can’t be here. “What are you doing here?” he asked, unable to keep his tone steady. “I told you to stay put...I told you to stay home...what happened?”
Your tears fell as you let him wrap you up, as you let him swipe them from your cheeks. “Billy, I...that agent, the homeland agent...Madani? She, she called me again just...just after you did...said she traced your call to me...said she tracked your phone here. She’s gonna come after you… I...Billy, I had to see you, I had to...I had to make sure you were safe I...I love you, Billy, I...I”
He cut your words off with his lips, pressing them to yours with the longing that had been building since he left you. The hands that had just held his gun now cradled your face between them, one sliding to the curve around behind your head, the other traveling around to your back, pressing you closer. He gave you everything he had in that kiss, all the love he couldn’t give you, all the things he wasn’t able to say. Tongue moving with yours, he felt that same need rise in his chest that he felt when he’d kissed you in front of the Alice sculpture, felt it fill him completely. Both of your hands were on his face, one earlobe between your fingers as they slid up his jaw. It felt so right, kissing you, holding you under the stars, under the moon. It felt right loving you. But he had to end it, because you shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t be there with him, not when he didn’t know if…
He pulled back, resting his forehead against yours for the briefest of beats while you both took a breath. He whispered your name once more. “You need to go...get out of here, get somewhere safe. Stay there until I call you.” His thumb came to brush your lips as he laid another kiss to them. “Please. Please, you need to go…”
“Billy...I’m scared, I…”
“Please!” his voice was louder than he meant for it to be, heart hammering. Someone’s gonna hear us...someone’s gonna see…
You choked but nodded. “Okay… okay Billy...I...I love you...I needed to see you...I…”
“I know. I know...Now, go...please…” He kissed you one last time and waited until you disappeared back in the direction that you came from.
Good. Good, she’s gone, she’s...she’ll be safe…
The fight with Frank. Guns and knives, fists and attacks. A ricochet in his peripheral as he spun to see the agent you’d warned him about, taking his shot, aiming for her head. Another ricochet as Frank misjudged Billy’s location, a trick of the mirrors and lights, of the bobbing horses and the painted dragons. A moan, then and the call of his name… too soon after that second ricochet...too soon after Frank had fired. He looked in the direction it came from and saw. His heart thudded to a jarring stop. No. No. No, no no no. He shouted the word and it became an unintelligible scream, it turned into rage, into blinding, red rage and he recklessly threw himself into the fight. He killed her. He shot her, she’s…
You were laying on the ground, close to Madani, and he could see the wound he’d given her on the temple. She was still alive, though bleeding badly and unconscious. But when his eyes dropped you, he saw the hole in your chest, saw the blank stare and the stillness of your body. He saw you and he knew.
She’s gone…
He stood, stepping towards Krista. “You knew.”
“What?” She looked up at him, questioning him with her words and her eyes. “KNew...knew what, Billy?”
He pointed to the file in her hands. “You knew...you knew she’s…” he tore the file from her grasp then, pages flying from it as he tossed it into the chair he’d vacated. “She’d dead...she’s…” saying the words aloud made his throat close, made his vision blurr sent searing, burning pain through his entire body, emanating from his skull. “Frank did this to me… he killed her he…” he turned on her. “And you fucking knew.”
“Yes...yes, okay...okay, Billy, yes, I knew...I-”
“Get up.” He snarled the words, tears in his eyes and hatred in his heart. She stood, hands shaking. One came up, tentatively reaching for him, but he wasted no time in wrapping his fingers bone crushingly tight around her wrist, yanking her towards the window. She yelped quietly, knowing that now that he had a hand on her he was in charge. She could call for the guards but not before he snapped her neck. “Tell me what you know. Now.”
“She was found a few feet from the carousel, Billy, a few feet from where forensics determined that Agent Madani had been shot...she was probably right behind her she… they said she died instantly...there was no suffering…”
“You knew. You knew she was...she was dead...all this fucking time…” his voice was uneven but he kept it quiet, kept from drawing unwanted attention through that window in his door. “And you made me play your games...you made me…”
“We needed to get as much information as we-”
“Fuck your information, Krista,” he growled. “You knew… you…”
Something broke in him then, as your face filled his mind, smiling in the sun, streaked with tears in the moonlight, splattered in blood and staring, unseeing at the ponies. With another yank on her wrist, he pulled Dr. Dumont close and spun behind her, muscle memory aiding in his swift motions. His free hand covered her mouth so she couldn’t scream as he walked her right up against the window, forcing her to look down at the street. Letting go of her wrist, that arm snaked beneath her chin, elbow tightening as his forearm and bicep crossed her own arm over her windpipe. He gripped his own shoulder and squeezed, keeping his hand over her mouth as she spasmed against his chest, as her nails clawed at his arms. He squeezed as her wild eyes grew wider and wider before she went limp, squeezing a few seconds longer, counting in his head to that magic number he’d learned back in boot camp: the magic number of seconds it took to kill someone with a blood choke.
He dropped her body in a heap as his rage crashed and flowed and ebbed and diminished.
You were gone... he was right...he had nothing left. But Frank didn’t even let him have that. He didn’t even let him fail. He didn’t let him go with you…
He bent to pick up the pages that had flown from Krista’s file, sticking them inside the folder and tucking it into his sweatshirt. The door opened and the two guards burst in but Billy made short work of them, adrenaline high and fists and arms moving on their own. In no time at all he found himself on the street… his file in his hands and a new mission in his mind.
He’d been trying to find you, and he did.
Now he needed to find one more person.
Now he needed to find Frank.
@something-tofightfor @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @suchatinyinfinity @thebbtongue @lexxierave @thesumofmychoices @gollyderek @zaffrenotes @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @lysawayne @audreychaz @roses-in-your-country-house @traeumerinwitzhelden @luminex3 @songtoyou @songforhema @ymariejp @belladonnarey @breanime @stories-you-wont-hear
*thank you for tolerating this madness. there’s more to come, as always. ;) RED coming soon.*