Maybe “I feel... so weird...” with the J man and mag?
Magnificent’s latest round of torture had flared up the good doctor’s asthma. Jameson sat on his knees, wheezing harshly, feeling like his chest was on fire. His throat was whistling and he was having trouble keeping his eyes open in between bouts of stomach-churning coughing. It took all his strength to not just lie down on the ground and sleep for a while...
His kidnapper was suddenly in front of him, opening up his palm and even reaching behind Jameson to unlock his cuffs. That was... strange. But, Jamie could hardly think... there was no way he had the strength to fight the dark magician and try to run. And Magnificent knew this.
In the gloved hand of his captor was a bundle of some... white glowing petals Jameson didnt recognize. And some... strange seeds. With a wave of Mag’s other hand, the contents swirl and then turn into a steaming cup of tea. The doctor’s eyes light up and he almost sobs- it’s been so long since he had something nice and warm to drink. He looks up to the other man expectantly and he nods, a small smirk curling on his lips. Jameson then takes the cup and hurriedly drinks it, downing the contents almost too fast, causing him to cough and wheeze again. But, he doesn’t dare let any liquid leak back out his mouth. He doesn’t know when he’ll get his next drink.
A gentle hand rubs his back, and the doctor coughs into his elbow, shuddering as his chest slowly loosens.
“Slow down there, puppy,” Magnificent coos, his voice sweet as syrup. “That little concoction will help with your asthma... but you don’t want to cause more problems, do you?” Jamie shook his head and tried to breathe slowly. His wheezes quieted... and his breathing was returning to a normal pace. But... he was feeling... off-
He blinked rapidly, shaking his head. Things were... becoming too bright- Magnificent’s eyes, the faint light that shone through the cell window. It was blurring before his eyes and it was too much- and his heart... it was starting to beat way too fast. He could feel his pulse in his wrist, pounding in his ears. Sweat started to drip down his neck, down his face. Jameson swallowed thickly... his mouth already feeling dry even though he just finished the tea.
“i...” He slurred quietly, having trouble moving his mouth correctly, “I... f...feel... so...w...weird...” He blinked sluggishly, trying to rise on unsteady feet but Mag caught him before he could fall and plops him back on the floor.
“Oh, so articulate Doc,” The masked man mocked with a snide grin, “It seems you’re losing that vast vocabulary of yours!” The magician then put a finger to his lip in thought before replying, “Though... I suppose that could... just be the jimson weed’s fault-”
Jameson lifted his fuzzy head as fast as he could to regard his captor, “The- w-what weed?” His heart beat faster- his skin felt like it was being covered with a second layer of drier... burning hot skin-
The mad man chuckles and looks down at the therapist with little pity. “oh, I could spend time explaining that little poison to you... orrrr i could just leave you here to figure it out all on your own~!” He laughed mercilessly as he strode to the door and Jameson lunged to try to grab after him but his limbs wouldn’t respond- they felt like they were made out of rubber. “I wouldn’t worry though, pet. It won’t kill you~. Where’s the fun in that?”
The door slamming shut causes Jamie to shudder and he looks around the room in panic. It’s still too bright- he- he can’t see clearly even though he’s wearing his glasses. His heart won’t calm down. It’s threatening to beat right out of his chest- He feels like he’s been thrown into the desert... He wants to cry... but he’s so hot it feels like there’s nothing left in his tear ducts.
JJ whimpers in fear and curls up on the ground, holding his head against his chest... he prays this will end soon. Please... let it end soon.
But, he doesn’t get that luxury... he’s not sure how much time has passed but soon enough, he starts hearing voices. He lifts up his weary head and blinks blearily eyes, trying to see.
“...’ello...?” He croaks, having trouble sitting up and resigning to just laying on the floor, the heat flooding over him in waves. “w..who’s there?”
The voices start to echo around the chamber but ghostly figures start to come into view. Ones he recognizes. Jameson bites back a gasp as he struggles to pull his head up again, pulling himself up on quivering arms.
“Y...you guys...?” He breathes, tears running down his cheeks before he can even register them. They feel almost cold against his blistering skin.
The ghostly figures of Henrik, Chase, Alt and Jackie all turn to look at him. But, a shiver runs down the doctor’s spine.
Alt’s figure scoffs and rolls his eyes, “Oh isn’t that funny, guys. Doc, thinks we’re here to save his sorry ass.”
The hero next to him shines glowing silver-blue eyes down at the shivering prisoner, “Like any of us have time. I have a more important duty to the city than to a guy that falls to fix my depression session after session-”
“C-Chase I-I...!” Jameson tries to interject.
“Spare us your sob story, J,” Jackie growls, prowling closer to the doctor. Jamie tries to scoot away but the apparition seems to be able to grab the chain still around his neck and yanks him close again. Jameson yelps and gets pulled face to face with his oldest client- his oldest friend. “You really think any of us care that you’re stuck here? Finally getting the taste of what we’ve gone through at Magnificent’s hand? If you ask me, it’s about fucking time- Your life was looking a little too perfect.” Then, Jackie shoves the therapist to the ground with no mercy in his eyes, making him cough harshly and blinks spots out of his eyes.
Jameson chokes on a sob, “M-My life isn’t p-perfect- i-i i have suffered!” The doctor yells hoarsely. He’s silent for a second before he croaks, “I-I just... k-kept it hidden- no one needs to solve my problems... i-i am here to solve others- to be there for you!” His shoulders shake as he breaks down.
Quieter footsteps echo in front of him and he can just barely see them as someone kneels by him. Jameson looks up hopefully and meets the seemingly sympathetic face of Henrik.
“H-Henrik-,” Jamie sobs, trying to grab onto his friend but he can’t touch him,” H-Hen, Henny- please... my friend...”
There’s a beat of silence, before Jameson’s head is snapped to the side by a hard slap. Henrik’s ghostly blue eyes burn with anger. “You are a weakling, Jameson. I have lost my family, my time-! And yet i do not whine and weep like a little baby! You have no spine.” Henrik then harshly pushes Jameson to the floor, and there’s an explosion of color as the back of his head cracks against the concrete. And, the ghostly bodies of his friends disappear.
