A/N: Well. First angst piece, not sure how I feel about it. I was inspired to do this based on a request, and I just sorta ran along with the idea. Tell me what you guys think. I’ll get the requested headcanons up tomorrow.
Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Jaime was being weird, and Scarab hadn’t said a word in days. You didn’t want to intrude on Jaime’s thoughts, but with all the recent craziness, perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad idea to check his mind.
No. That would be an inexcusable invasion of his privacy. Black Canary was still the team’s therapist; she’d know better than you. And she wouldn’t be invading his mind to do so.
“I do not believe an audience with Black Canary will be necessary, Y/N.”
You jumped a bit and spun around. Green Beetle stood behind you, a rather poor imitation of a smile gracing his face. You nodded and made a noncommittal excuse, playing the part of the overly-worried girlfriend. You didn’t trust Green Beetle. His psychic signature was different, as if there was a voice underneath his thoughts. M’gann and J’onn didn’t have that, so it wasn’t a Martian thing either. Jaime had talked to him; maybe he and Scarab had a better grasp of the new warrior.
The Reach Ambassador’s voice echoed in his mind. “The psychic has arranged a private meeting. How interesting. We shall most certainly attend.”
No. They had to stay away from you. Jaime couldn’t let them get close to you, couldn’t let them hurt you. But what could he do? His body was not his to control and you were adamant about respecting other’s mental privacy. There was no way to warn you.
His body met you in the empty alley. The Ambassador forced a smile on his face and kissed you, puppeting Jaime’s past actions.
“Jaime,” you whispered, “is everything alright? You’ve been a little weird lately.”
Jaime would have given the world to scream, “No! The Ambassador’s possessed me!” but he could only watch as his body replied. “Everything’s fine, Y/N. Just a bit stressed with what’s happening, that’s all.”
“Still, I think you should talk to Black Canary. It wouldn’t hurt, right? How’s Scarab doing? It hasn’t said anything for a while.”
Jaime’s body stiffened. Scarab finally spoke up, announcing Jaime’s greatest fear. “It seems the telepath knows.”
Ambassador was quick to respond. “Eliminate all loose ends, Scarab.”
No. No! This couldn’t be happening. They couldn’t kill you. There had to be a way to stop them. A way to warn you. Anything. “Scarab, you can’t do this!”
“Apologies, Jaime Reyes, but we must. We are on-mode.”
“That’s right, Scarab. You are both faithful agents of the Reach. Don’t worry, my boy. The first kills are always the hardest.”
Jaime watched helplessly as his body suddenly seized you by the throat and started squeezing. Your mental voice trickled into his mind, begging the questions you couldn’t get past the vice on your neck.
“Jaime? Jaime? What’s going on? Why are you doing this? I can’t breathe--Jaime!”
Trapped within his own mind, Jaime screamed. He struggled and shouted, but all in vain. He felt you probe deeper into his mind, a desperate attempt to stop him as he squeezed the life out of you. You felt the intrusion in his mind; he saw your shock reflected in your eyes. You knew the Reach controlled him. He saw the shock fade into sorrow, then anger, then an all-consuming terror before they went blank.
Jaime looked down and saw the sword--his armored arm--buried in your chest. A little to the left, right where your heart was. How could this have happened? He should have done something--fought harder, struggled longer, anything! Anything to have kept you away from the alley--away from him. He was dangerous to you, and he should have kept you safe. But it was too late now. The shining star in his life had been extinguished.
You were gone. And with you, the knowledge that the Reach controlled Jaime. The knowledge that would alert the team and save the world. The knowledge that would prevent Impulse’s prophecy from coming true. And it was all his fault.
