Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A tooth fell to the floor with a light click, followed by the thud of Switch collapsing. 

David breathed deeply. He felt sick, nauseous and bad. The hallway that stretched before him for miles on end seemed to swim and bend as though he were stuck a thousand feet below the ocean, drowning silently. His heart beat dully in his ears, one of the few reminders that he was still alive. That he still had to go on. 

The numbers on the door switched erratically from one number to another. Had they gone back a second, a minute or a century? 

He painfully turned his head to ask Switch how far back they were; how much further they had to go to get There. His eyes fell to the floor where she lay whimpering. “Switch,” he said carefully, “when is this?” She rose slightly off the floor before collapsing again. “Switch,” he said carefully, “when is this?” She rose slightly off the floor and heaved herself onto her knees. A few loose teeth fell out of her open mouth and clattered to the floor like marbles.  

She gaped and gurgled, her mouth filling with blood. Her mouth filling with blood. David suppressed the desire to command her to get it together. “When is this?” he repeated.

She shook her head and briefly distorted back to lying on the floor before returning to shaking her head. “I don’t know.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I just don’t know.” 

David grit his teeth and turned back to the hallway. He couldn’t tell how long they had been walking - how far along the timeline they had gone. For a moment, he wondered if he should leave Switch behind and venture forth on his own. In his mind, the words of the Shadow King echoed to the beat of his heart: Gods make rules. They don’t follow them .

A shake of the head banished those thoughts. He needed her to do this.

“I can’t leave you behind,” he mumbled as he bent down and brought her to her feet, supporting her while she tried to right herself. A glob of blood fell from her lips.

“I don’t think we can I don’t think we can go on any further. I’ve never gone this far before,” she gurgled. 

“Just tell me when we get there,” David said coldly. 

The next second they had walked for another hundred years and she collapsed again out of his arms. “No more,” she begged. “I can’t. No more.” 

“Is this the place?”

Her hand touched a wildly flickering door on their right. “Yes, yes. This is it. Please, no more.” Despite her pain, despite the way she writhed on the floor, cold ripples clawing through her, David felt nothing but glee. The door in front of him beckoned warmly to him, extending a nostalgic hand, promising that this would be the end of it all. The very last pit-stop. With this, he could put everything right. He took a step towards the door, feeling how a grin settled comfortably on his face.

A hand gripped his ankle. He glanced down at the bleeding, toothless human on the floor. A tool whose service had finally been used up. 

She gurgled something incomprehensible at him, something that seemed very grave and serious but he just didn’t care. With only the slightest movement he was able to shake off her vague attempt to stop him. The door opened up before him like an old friend greeting him. Gentle, comforting scents and feelings enveloped him and he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Like he just stepped out from a cold, freezing blizzard into a warm home with the fireplace blazing and a nice pie baking in the oven. He smiled as he stepped inside a room he had seen before.

The sun shone coldly outside the window, framed on both sides by a drawn curtain. Outside, the wind raked slowly through emerald trees. But, inevitably, David’s gaze fell on the room itself. Old. Homely. Wooden floors and wooden walls. In the middle of the room stood a crib. 

Slowly, carefully, David stepped closer to the crib. His body felt heavy; legs stiff and feet cold. His arms felt somehow elongated, as though someone had tied a pair of weights around his wrists, leaving his arms to dangle far behind him. Breathing felt shallow, ragged and brief. The room blurred out of focus, the warm colours melting into freezing coldness. His tongue felt much too big for his mouth. 

He placed his cold hands on the crib and tried to keep himself upright even though his lunch threatened to leave him. The edge of the crib felt cold like the metal bars of a prison cell. All of a sudden, he wasn’t sure if there was anybody in the crib at all. He couldn’t tell if there was a presence or not. 

Taking a deep breath, he attempted to right himself. His body didn’t feel real. It was as though he was stuck in some strange dream where he couldn't quite control his body; where it didn’t even feel like it was his to begin with.

The eyes that might not be his own fell inside the crib. He gripped the edge of the crib. 

A pair of bright blue eyes met him. 

David stared at himself for a long moment before finally bursting into a swarm of goldfish, which all dropped to the floor where they flopped desperately even though their fate was sealed the moment they had been spawned.

David, meanwhile, was Elsewhere.

Darkness stretched out infinitely on either side of him. Up, down, left, right - it made no difference. Like suddenly being submerged in water so dark you can’t tell what is up or what is down, he found himself flailing and gasping for breath, clawing at the slippery darkness that silently surrounded him. His lungs filled with black sewage pressing itself down like a thousand cold-fingered rats. He choked.

Struggling will not save you, friend. A voice cut through the velvety darkness like a razor-thin knife. Relax and the world shall bow before you .

Disregarding the hateable familiarity of the voice, David allowed his eyes to close, bringing with it a darkness much unlike the callous night that previously surrounded him. A new world opened before him with the billowing part of a curtain. Farouk smiled politically at him. Well met, friend. By all means, spare no comfort.

It was a small living-room. One David had only seen in his vague memories of the time before his adoption. Farouk sat comfortably on a rounded, pleasant couch that seemed moulded to hold him. A pot of coffee and a small plate of foreign delicacies stood on a friendly coffee table. David’s blood turned to lead in his veins. 

Curiosity shone from behind Farouk’s dark glasses. You will not greet a fellow housemate?

Farouk , David hissed at the monster that sat before him. His mind, previously so confused and slippery, now formed itself into a cold, sharp dagger.

Have we met before? And somehow, it sounded genuine. The suit-wearing demon leaned forward, folding his fingers together. 

David brought his hands to his mind. Whatever was happening, this wasn’t real. This must be in the astral plane. Something must have gone wrong with Switch, leaving him here. And there was only one way out of it.

Putting his all into it, David pushed against the bounds of the astral plane, tearing at the fabric of the second reality with claws of steel. The world seemed to budge, but at the same time, he felt his mind assaulted by a grave pain, a pressure that seemed to spread from the back of his head to the front, threatening to pop his eyes out. The world quaked and David grit his teeth.

I would not attempt that, were I you. David opened his eyes and found Farouk looking at him with an amused expression. One that David would do anything to wipe off his face. Attempting to use brute force to escape this place will only hurt-,

He made to stand in his explanation, but David didn’t let him get that far before he attacked.

Holding the element of surprise, David was able to inflict several grave wounds before Farouk realized what was happening. But by then, David had already gained the upper hand. In the moment, David didn’t really wonder how it happened that Farouk somehow felt weaker than usual. How it came to be that David was able to almost casually bring him to the point where his defenses were shattered.

Of course, David didn’t for one second consider the idea of giving Farouk a quick end. As they crashed through a thousand different mental spaces, battling each other with mental weapons and mental selves, David slowly chipped away at everything Farouk was, toying with his life and sanity, eventually going so far as to implant false memories of triumph or tragedy in his mind only to rip it all away with the freezing truth of reality. 

He destroyed Farouk. Tortured him for what felt like years. 

He put him through Hell and then gave him a taste of Heaven just to rip it away. With full access to Farouk’s mental spaces, he found everything he held dear and implanted in him the belief - the knowledge - that it had been irrevocably destroyed. That every person he had ever cared for had turned their backs on him, that his every success was a lie and every failure his own mistake alone. 

David stood victorious above the rotting, burnt, frozen, mangled, corroded and bloated body of Farouk’s soul, cherishing every inch of the pain that rattled through his pained breaths. 

A terrified eye glanced up through the rim of a pair of cracked sunglasses. Who… Are you?...

David grinned. I am your worst nightmare.

Then, and only then, did David snuff the final remnants of Farouk’s life from his mauled soul. The Shadow King was no more.

Across the country, a burrowed body finally began to rot.

Right. Good riddance. David scoffed and spit on the spot where Farouk’s soul had been before its death. Now… Where the Hell is this?

Once again, that infinite black void spread out before him. But without the panic of his first appearance, he simply watched it, knowing fully well it was simply the astral plane. And yet, there was obviously something wrong. There were two main questions: why was David in the astral plane, and why had Farouk been there as well? Other questions such as why Farouk couldn’t recognize him and how he was taken by surprise could likely be answered by these two. 

For a while, David simply stood there, letting his mind open to any and all possibilities. And then, as the astral plane rippled and moved, he came to grow aware that the darkness wasn’t simply endless and eternal. In certain places it billowed, much like a curtain. An incredibly black curtain, but a curtain nonetheless. 

David let his hand touch the edge of the curtain. The void-like material felt velvety in his hand. He pulled it to the side.

And behind the curtain, surrounded on all other sides by curtains as well, he found a crib, standing quietly atop the rigid darkness. David approached it.

There, in the crib, lay a simple doll with bright blue eyes, wrapped lovingly in a blanket. 

David blinked at the sight. Yes, that was it. He wasn’t just in the astral plane. He was inside himself. His younger self. His baby self, from all those years past. Somehow… somehow, his body had been destroyed. He couldn’t understand why or how, but it had happened. And here he was. That was why Farouk was here, too. Because he had wanted to take over his mind. But now he couldn't do that. 

David felt bubbly and gleeful. 

-Because Farouk was dead! 

Now there was only David in here. David and…

David picked up the blue-eyed doll. 

And David. David and David. 

That might be a problem. 

Sure, the plan had gone a bit awry with David losing his body, and with Farouk already having entered his body, but with this, he could still fix it! All he had to do was to take over this body. Or at least to otherwise contact Daddy. There should be plenty of ways to do that. David wasn’t just any regular psychic - of course not - he was the psychic! 

If he just focused a little, he could easily take over the body of some stupid baby to contact Daddy. And then he could just slip away elsewhere and be happy that the world was saved.

David held up the doll to his face. Its glassy, clear eyes stared back at him. He focused on it, letting his power and thoughts and mind enter it…

Gah!! With a blast of energy, David flew out of the black curtains, crashing to the metaphorical floor painfully. His mind hurt. When he looked back up, he found the rippling blackness slowly turning hard and rigid once more. Damn it. This… might be a little harder than he had originally thought.

Cursing under his breath, David mentally summoned a small but quaint room to sit within. The sun beamed down on him from above and he grabbed a small cup of tea. 

If possessing his baby’s self’s body was as easy as brute-forcing it, then it was obvious Farouk would have done so years ago. No, whatever this was, it required technique. Finesse. Skill. Things David couldn’t fully claim to have. He had power, yes, but it was only as of recently that he’d gotten any good at using it. To be able to take over this body and save the world, he would need training.

The small room eagerly presented itself for his use.

-And what better place to do so than the astral plane?

Of course, he didn’t have all the time in the world. Unless he was able to quickly take over his younger self’s body within a few months, the window between Farouk’s defeat and his abandonment would close.

And so, David submerged himself into training.

Chapter Text

So long ago, when he met Oliver for the first time, David hadn’t really understood his situation. How could he possibly not know how many years that had passed? How could he believe that such an obviously long time could be mere minutes; hours? How could he forget words, one by one? 

How could he forget the woman he loved?

But that was just how the astral plane worked. That’s what it did. 

Disconnected from your body, removed from the welcoming rise and fall of the sun and moon, evicted from the social situations wherein words were used, you simply forgot. It was as simple as that. 

To combat this, David tried to create a world to answer these questions for him. He constructed a little forest with little critters in them and a little meadow for him to work in. But the sun only fell when he begged it to, and the moon only made its presence known when he remembered that it existed. The days stretched longer and longer, eventually becoming ever-present. Or maybe it had only been a single day since he arrived here. Maybe he made this place a few minutes ago.

He created small animals to talk to, but he couldn’t know if the words he spoke were actual words or something else. The critters never responded. When he focused on something else, they disappeared.

But he learnt. 

In his endless isolation, he began to understand many things that had eluded him before. He understood his own power better. Somehow, he could feel what it was; what it wanted.

In the confines of his soul, he understood the power within him as a sort of dog. Like a very large, very unkempt dog. A huge bulldog with massive jaws that bit down on anything he sicced it on. At the moment, he had a leash and a collar on it. A very thin leash and a very loose collar. Things that only barely kept the dog under control. As a matter of fact, it was ill-trained to the point that it was difficult for him to ask the dog to do anything constructive.

If he dug deep inside his own memories, he could remember how during his childhood, this dog - equally big and rough then - had been wrapped up tightly in a leash of wire and a collar of chain link. Farouk had kept it under control. But he had also tried to train it to follow his commands and his alone.

-But now he was dead!

Leaving him alone with the dog.

But training a dog with a leash and a collar alone would never actually tame it. A truly well-bred dog would follow the instructions of its handler whether it had a collar and a leash or not. In fact, the dogs with the stronger leashes and collars were typically the less well-trained ones. You didn’t put a muzzle on a dog unless it regularly bit people. 

And so, David trained his own power. Slowly, carefully, he taught it things. Things unrelated to violence.

How to sniff up a trail. How to bark. How to cuddle close to someone. How to sit, how to roll over. 

He taught it control, and he taught it well. The more he controlled the dog, the more he controlled himself. 

He did not know how long it had taken before he had trained himself well enough to be able to tap into the mind of his younger self. It could have been minutes, or days, or years. The scenery around him had shifted so many times that David was no longer sure if it was even supposed to be a forest anymore.

Whatever it was, he felt confident that he could make more of it. 

The mind of his younger self stretched before his fingertips. 

As before, possessing him fully would be out of the question. Not because it felt immoral or wrong, but simply because their powers were too equally matched. But that didn’t mean David was some sort of helpless passenger in the mind of his younger self. Not at all. 

What he was about to do was a little different.

Projection was, typically, a rather difficult procedure for any normal psychic. It required control of many different minds alongside one's own in order to create the image of a false presence. But there was only one mind David currently had to appear before.

Grinning, David hijacked the mind of his younger self.

In a flash of light, the world around him changed, and all of a sudden he wasn’t inside the false-but-real world of the astral plane, but instead, he stood within a simple kitchen. Running water and soft humming met him over the sounds of dishes clinking together. The world smelled of soap and steam.

But it was the wrong kitchen. Or, rather, it was the right kitchen in the wrong house. 

He hadn’t been training for that long, had he? 

And yet, the room before him was the house he had grown up in, and the woman that stood before him with her back to him, facing the sink, was no one but his mother. His adoptive mother.

And standing behind her legs was a small child he recognized from old childhood pictures of himself.

David suppressed the urge to curse. 

The child stared at him. The kid. Him. David. His huge blue eyes were trained right on him, hands gripping fearfully at the seam of his (their?) mother’s dress. He seemed to be maybe three or four years old. But it couldn’t have been that long, could it?

David scratched an itchy spot on his head. He bent down and tried to smile a friendly, non-threatening smile. Hey there, kid, he said. The kid made no proof of hearing him. You can hear me, right? Or are you like-, uh, am I on the wrong radio wave? Or something? The kid shook his head. David sighed and rubbed his face. Okay, kid, listen, I need you to just-, you know the world, right? Big world out there? I need you to go save it. So if you just listen to me…

The kid turned his head to look up at their mother. Damnit. 

Well, it was worth a try. If he couldn’t convince the kid to either save the world or let him possess his body to do it for him, he might as well try to just do it without the body. Now that he was outside the kid’s brain, he should be able to use his powers. 

Focusing on a cup on the sink, David mentally commanded it to rise and fly. It did no such thing. 

He blinked. 

Looking down at his hands, he found them semi-transparent.

Ah. Alright, that was it. This was just a projection. His power - his soul - all of that was still inside the kid. This body was just a projection that only the kid could see. And so, if he wanted to do anything, he would need to use the kid’s powers to do it. Which wasn’t quite as easy as it sounded, either. 

Separating his attention into two, David attempted as best as he could to reach out towards the power of the kid. He stretched out his hand. 

The kid looked back at him. 

Then, it bit his hand. 

David recoiled and in a flash of light, the kitchen disappeared, leaving him stranded once more in the astral plane. Damn it, damn it, damn it! David cursed, waving his hurt hand. Alright, fine! So that’s how you want to play, huh? Well, let’s see how you like it! 

He should have expected it, but that kid had no control over his powers. None whatsoever. If he didn’t reign it in, who knew what could happen? Maybe he’d hurt Amy, or himself, or, even worse, he might try to fight David’s presence in there. That would be the same as hurting the future of the world.

He really had no choice but to tie up that rabid thing. 

Maybe one day, when the kid was grown and stable and capable of using it well, David might release it. Assuming they didn’t clash for whatever reason, that was.

However, this all did tell him that David could show himself to the kid at any time. More importantly, should he wish to, he could appear in the outer world to… Well, to experience it. To make sure he didn’t get trapped inside the astral plane for too long. That might be bad. Just now, he couldn’t even tell that three or four years had passed.

He scratched his head. God, it itched so badly. It felt as though something was trying to work its way through his skull, like a wisdom tooth coming out.

When he removed his hand again, he found blood and loose hairs under his nails.

The astral plane was not simply a plane of existence, or a place, or even an idea. It was not separated from the soul or the mind. It was a part of it. Like a massive network of minds, it worked on the psychic plane of every person alive. It had an effect on people, and right now, David could feel it have an effect on him. Like a massive White Room pressing its long, cold fingers into his skull. 

But he had to keep working. He had to save the world.

The work was cut out for him. All he had to do was to try to influence the kid into letting him use his body. Or just to follow his directions. Either one worked well enough. 

But appearing before the kid did nothing but frighten him. Which was really quite rude, since David had nothing but the best intentions in mind. So he had to be subtle. Whispering words into the ears of the young boy, telling him the secrets of the world. By tapping into the brainwaves of the kid, he was able to hear his thoughts as well. To hear his response.

It was, in most cases, pure confusion and at points abject horror. 

Even when the kid grew older, this continued. It came to a point where whatever David said, whatever prophecy of the future he deemed right to declare, was simply ignored. 

Nothing worked. 

David himself could feel the prolonged contact with the astral plane begin to affect him. The itchy spots on his head had grown into lumps which had then burst into a pair of bleeding horns. Trying to rid himself of these did nothing to help him as they continuously grew, all the while healing into scabs which then uselessly fell off to give rise to new bleeding. And, God, did they itch. David could spend entire days and nights simply itching the horns, uselessly rubbing them against whatever rough surface he could find, hoping it might eventually relieve him of the horns fully. But it didn’t.

Years passed. 

His body began to feel cold and stale. His shirt elongated like a growing mass of red-orange mould. His eyes began to sink in as his face lost both colour and flesh, eventually resembling more a patch of skin stretched across a bony skull than anything alive. 

When the kid hit twelve years of age, David felt his eyeballs fall out of his face. Soon, his lower jaw, nose and ears followed suit. But he didn’t really need those. He could see, smell and hear just fine without them. What was important was that he improved. Yes, at the same rate as his form was mutilated and maimed, he grew better at using his powers. 

The dog was loyal and obedient. It did as he asked. 

His only great setback was his lack of a body. He thought for a moment that he might try to find and use Farouk’s body, but then he realized that he wasn’t sure where it was, or even who Farouk was. Only that he hated him. 

He had to save the world. He had to save the world.

But how? Oh, right, he had to convince the kid to let him use his body. Right. And then… Then, he just had to save the world. That was it. Easy peasy. 

Even as his face began to itch just like his bleeding horns, he always took some time to exist in the outside world. Just to observe the kid - to see how far they had gotten. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen years of age… The boy grew older. He grew into a child whose thoughts were littered with whispering predictions of the future. Predictions David hoped would convince him he could trust him but, in actuality, only served to make the kid more assured that there was something deeply, deeply wrong with him. 

His face stopped itching once it began to fall off in great bloodless clusters. Then all that remained was the smooth expanse of an ivory skull. But it didn’t feel like a human skull. It felt elongated and animal; matching his horns in its elk-like appearance. 

His shirt, too, had now elongated to the point where it draped fully upon the floor, giving David quite the trouble not to trip on it constantly. He actually had the same problem with his golden scarf, but he was able to contain it by wrapping it around his arms. This had the unwanted side-effect of crippling his arms fully, keeping them wound tight together. But he didn’t need arms. The world obeyed him regardless. Really, this just made things simpler by keeping his scarf out of the way.

Never mind that he hardly looked human anymore. What did that matter when he had a world to save? (Image: https://imgur.com/gallery/yTJWIUo)

The year was 16. 

Watching the boy gradually grow into something resembling a man felt strange at first, but as the years went by, David began to identify less and less with the boy whose mind he inhabited. They shared a name, yes, but beyond that, they were much different. For one, the kid had never been touched by the greasy fingers of the Shadow King. After all…

-He was dead!

And still, although David’s own memories of his childhood grew hazier with each day that passed, he could somehow tell that the life that the kid lived was very alike the one he had lived himself. He heard voices and he saw things that weren’t there. The thing being David himself. 

The kid was a troubled young boy who worried his parents at times with strange things he said. No matter how David tried, he couldn’t fully suppress the powers of the boy, which at times surfaced in moments of great anger or stress. Most clearly, however, he was unable - for the most part - to keep the boy from hearing voices. As the boy’s natural powers grew, so did the intensity and frequency of outbursts and voices.

One of which, of course, was his own. 

But now the kid wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a teenager, and he was a bit too similar to what David remembered. Things were turning out the same way they did so many years ago. Things were supposed to change , damn it!

Maybe he had been too subtle. Maybe he had to do more.

Chapter Text

He was sixteen now. Almost an adult, as far as the police seemed to think. 

David? Well, David… 

Some kid in a white tux laid at his feet, groaning and muttering curses. The music was still blaring, but it would probably stop soon once the jockey realized the prom had gone awry. Fifteen stunned gazes stared at him, all dressed in fancy dresses and fancy tuxedos. Three dozen voices blared through his head, shouting about how he could possibly do such a thing and that obviously it was David the Druggie who would do such a thing and poor, poor Andy didn’t deserve something like that. David felt differently. 

And then there was one voice cutting through the rest, so disturbingly like his voice and yet shockingly different, that whispered that Someone’s going to call the cops. Get out of there.

But he didn’t, and he wouldn’t. 

The music and the flashing epileptic lights cut to an end a bit later, at about the same time that the guards dragged him outside. And, to be sure, there stood a patrol car, the cop inside lazily staring at him like some deep-sea fish. He was thrown in the back like a bag of groceries. Maybe if this was the first time he’d punched a guy in the face they wouldn’t have called the cops. Maybe if this wasn’t his final prom they wouldn’t have cared.

Maybe if he could trust the voice-in-his-head-that-wasn’t-his, he would have run. 

But he didn’t. Because as true as it often is, it is never to be trusted. The things it said, the way it said it… What it wanted …

David let his head rise and pretended to listen to the cop’s warnings. His gaze slid out the window. The world was dark and cold. Shadowy buildings loomed in the distance, visible only as silhouettes. At the edge of one such building, the edge of a nearby park could be seen. David didn’t see it at first. It didn't move, and there were so many dark things nearby, it was hard to discern it at all. But he could see the horns.

Like massive clawed hands perched atop a hollow-eyed skull. Arms twisted to its sides as though it was captured in a straight-jacket. Clumps of dead skin and velvet hung from the bleeding horns. David felt how his breathing grew strained and quick. 

“Hey,” he said meekly. “Can you let me out? Please.”

“What?”

“Or-, or just get me out of here. Please. I don’t care where you take me,” his voice rose to a hysteric wail. “Please, I just-, just get me out of here!”

David could see the officer’s eyes framed by the rearview mirror; evaluating him - trying to ascertain whether he was trying to dupe him or not. “...Sure, kid. Where do you live?”

As his address rolled from his tongue, he couldn’t help but find his eyes once more moving out to look outside the window. It was gone. Or maybe it had just moved.

Suddenly frantic, he scanned the environment just outside the car window, trying to see if the hollow-eyed thing might be hiding behind a dumpster, or around the corner behind some old warehouse, or down the dimly lit street, or… 

His breath hitched. Maybe it was closer than that?

Slowly, mechanically, he turned his head to look at the rearview mirror. The cop looked the same as before, putting his keys in the ignition and starting up the car. It hummed to life. David turned to look at the other driver’s seat. 

Empty. 

A sigh of relief emptied itself from his lungs. It was rather silly of him to worry about it, right? It wasn’t as though it was a real thing at all. It was, much like the voices in his head, just some sort of weird illusion or hallucination, or…

Look, kid, if you just listened to me, you’d never be in this situation to begin with.

There was that damn voice again. The one that imitated his own, that tried to guess at the future and-,

Hey. Someone snapped their finger right in front of his face. With a gasp, he straightened out in the seat and turned to the left, where he found a man sitting in the other passenger seat. Well, no, not a man, per se, more like… Himself. David blinked at the other him. There you go. It’s so hard to communicate with you nowadays! Well, not that it was any easier before, but… Well, enough about that. Listen, kid. 

David stared blankly at the other him. He was even wearing the same old hand-me-down tux as David was. But something here was wrong. Something in his eyes was wrong.

Uh, pay attention here - I’m trying to save your ass? Not-Him said with a sneer. David continued to just stare at him. This had to be another illusion. Or-, or maybe this was an out-of-body experience? Maybe-,

“You okay back there?” the cop asked sympathetically. David glanced at the rearview mirror without turning his head. “Did you drink anything? Do you-, do you need to step out? If not, I’ll get to driving you home.”

“Yeah, I’m…” David rubbed one of his eyes. The vision persisted. “I’m fine.”

The other him put one of his fingers to his temple and rolled it. Gives us plenty of time to get to know each other, doesn’t it?

David glanced at the cop who had now begun to pull out of the parking lot. He brought his voice to a hushed whisper. “What the fuck are you?”

The other him scoffed. I’m not a what, I’m a who, kid. And as for who I am, well… He smiled a smile David couldn’t imagine seeing on anyone apart from a total madman. I’m You. I’m Me. I’m us and you’re we! He threw up his arms in a grandiose gesture. But that’s not important. Really, I care much more about what we’re going to do. You’ve been-, well, see, you haven’t been doing quite what I’ve wanted us to, so now we’re in a bit of a pickle, aren’t we?

Uncertain, David gestured broadly towards the cop car, finally pointing at the officer. “With.. this?”

The other him pouted disgustingly. The world, kid! We’ve gotta save it! 

Again, David found himself staring blankly at the other him. “Save the world?” he said a little louder than he originally would have wanted to. A quick glance at the officer informed him that he hadn’t been found out. Yet.

An equally blank stare from the spector met him. Yeah, of course. What, you think it’ll just save itself?

“No, I’m… Look, this is all just-, God, I’m insane, aren’t I? I have to-, I should tell Amy.” 

You aren’t insane, the vision said bluntly.

“What?”

The other him smiled again, cementing the fact that David never wanted to see him smile again. You’re not insane. Well, we’re not insane. You’re just… It’ll have to wait, but you’re not insane. Don’t go to therapy. Don’t get involved with anything like that. Don’t go to doctor Poole, don’t tell Amy… You’re not insane, so don’t act like you are. The words he spoke might have seemed motivational on a base level, but the look in his eye was enough to convince David of the opposite. If that was really an accurate reflection of how he looked - insane smile and a mad glint in his eye - then he couldn’t possibly be sane. 

You are a good person. You deserve love, it chanted. Somehow, David didn’t believe it.

“Is this the place?” the officer asked.

“Huh?” David turned to look outside the window and found that he was, in fact, at home. “Oh… Yeah. Thanks.”

When he looked back at the other passenger seat, he found it empty. Something in the pit of his stomach lurched. He couldn’t go on like this any longer. No matter the cost, he had to tell someone this was happening. 

Doctor Poole… Even if such a person did exist, David wouldn’t be stupid enough to ignore him. If he’d help with the voices and the visions, it’d be worth it. 

A few months later David was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and began to receive therapy with a certain Doctor Poole.

Chapter Text

Well… That was a bust. 

David couldn’t honestly say that he had expected anything better, but being refused so flatly certainly didn’t help. 

The good thing was that his hypothesis turned out correctly. Since the kid kind of hated his normal form, he needed some sort of form to take that wouldn’t frighten him - a mask, if you will. Such a mask was found in the kid’s very own form. Yup, it was as simple as that. 

If he tried, he could even go so far as to take on a younger form of the kid, such as when he really fulfilled the namesake “kid”. But it was pretty time consuming, and it relied mostly on the kid’s view of his own physical self. Worst of all, it took a lot of effort. 

Hence why he could only keep it up for a pretty short period of time.

But now that was all down the drain because, despite David’s detailed and kind-hearted warnings, the kid went and got diagnosed anyway. He even went ahead and described their chat in the car to the evaluator. David had just assumed they’d keep it private, but oh, no, apparently his younger self just happened to be a huge rat. 

Not that he trusted him to begin with. The guy was clearly unstable.

So now the kid was going on clozapine and was out of high school and David could barely reach him at all. He couldn’t appear before him, he couldn’t say things in his ear, he couldn’t even channel his powers. Thanks to the drugs, the kid’s normal psychic usage had gone down, so David thankfully didn’t lose control of that hound, but if he had, this whole situation could have played out much differently.

The only situations wherein David could so much as fart in the real world was in the brief moments where the kid was off his meds or where he was experiencing a bad trip. Oh, that was another thing.

The Vapour. Yeah, the kid was using.

Just like the girls he used to gather around him. Maybe this was a sign that the kid was finally succumbing to David’s sound suggestions? Well, probably not since the drug usually worked to dampen the effect of their psychic abilities.

Only on rare occasions did David finally find himself in the real world, projected among the buildings and things. For some reason though, the kid never seems happy to see him. 

These short bursts happened extremely seldom. So seldom, in fact, that the appearance of a fat slob took David completely by surprise. The kid seemed to call him ‘Benny’, but David had never known any Benny. Nor did he recognize the not-Amy woman that the kid had begun hanging around. Things were… strange. 

But he couldn’t stop to smell the flowers. He still had a world to save.

And so, he worked tirelessly - day and night - all in order to ensure that he was somehow able to fight through the fog of drugs and (pharmaceutical) drugs. 

In the end, he was rewarded by this when he suddenly found himself in darkness. He had assumed this would be the astral plane, but the existence of a single, tawny light fleeting through a lone, lofty window dispelled this. Yes, this room was… Well, it was a room, for sure. Kind of fancy - lots of expensive desk toys and things - but currently heavily rummaged through, as though someone had gone through it grabbing whatever he could. 

And then his eyes fell on the scene right in front of him. 

The kid was sitting on the floor atop some limp something, breathing heavily as though he’d just finished running a race. His eyes were wide, appearing like deep, dark gashes in the universe. Reflected in these pools were only the red of the floor. Strange colour for a floor. But that same red was also on his chest, and in splotches on his face, and on his hands…

In his right hand, he held an oversized diamond paperweight that dripped red. 

The thing on the floor writhed painfully like an oversized maggot.

Oh. 

Well, that’s unfortunate for whoever that was. Which could really be anyone, David wasn’t too sure what people the kid was currently affiliated with. But the person clearly wasn’t dead (yet), so the situation wasn’t extremely dire. Just a little dire.

While David stood there watching like a buffoon, the kid’s heartbeat seemed to echo through the room. Then, he let his face rise. Half of it grew illuminated by the window and the streetlamp. Those clear blue eyes shone dimly, surrounded by small splotches of red blood, like a pale moon surrounded by bleeding stars. Tears pooled within them. 

David felt really awkward just standing there, so he chose not to say anything. It wasn’t like he was wearing the kid’s form either, so the fact that the kid hadn’t screamed and ran yet was kind of impressive.

But then the kid screamed and all of a sudden the scene was gone, leaving David vaguely confused as to why he was able to appear to begin with. 

In other words, despite David’s best efforts, things were going… Not well. In all honesty, to David, it felt as though no time had passed at all, even though it should have been closer to twenty years. Or maybe even thirty. Could the world still be saved? Could he still convince the kid to let him use his body? Worse yet, was this world still capable of being saved? Was it too late?

Should he just go onto the backup plan of turning back time once again?

To do so, he would need a body and the help of… Whoever helped him last time. He was pretty sure it was a man. Or a woman? He just needed a body to do it. 

But the most able and useful body nearby was currently being shipped off to Clockworks. Whatever that was. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t allow the kid to let that happen to himself.

And so, at any moment he was able to, David whispered one line in the kid’s ears. One line that might finally make a difference.

Don’t go to Clockworks.

Chapter Text

David lived in Hell.

Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks.

“Can you hear it now?” 

A flashlight shined in his face where he sat in the back of the police car. He put up his hand to shield his eyes. 

 Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks.

“Yeah,” David slurred at the man who had to have been a police officer because he could remember calling the police and the ambulance and he could remember being in the office and he could remember the devil with hollow eyes and-,

Sick and bile regurgitated itself into his mouth and he bent over and emptied his stomach onto the floor of what might be a police car. His throat burnt and his nose was filled with vomit and the Vapour and old half-digested leftovers. The officer shining a light in his face cursed and stepped back. David couldn’t bring himself to care.

 Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks.

He couldn’t hear anything over the murmur of his inner voice. Not the officer, not the still-on sirens, not the shouting of paramedics and cops. Just some nonsensical stupid line about how he apparently shouldn’t go and visit the Big Ben anytime soon. Which was both statistically improbable and physically impossible considering he just assaulted a man. Possibly killing him. 

His wrists, chained by a pair of cuffs, itched horribly. Tied behind his back, he couldn’t do anything but sit there in the back of the car, breathing. Couldn’t even wipe the sick off his face.

His back hunched again and he leaned his head on his knees. 

God, Dr Poole… 

Why was he there? He shouldn’t have been there. If he’d just kept away from his little office, none of this would have happened. He could have just taken a few of the petty riff-raff things that Poole could buy a bazillion more of and that would’ve been the end of it. But now he’s-, now he might… Well, really, it might not have been that bad, even. Poole was still breathing when David rose to call for an ambulance. Of course, David was sure he’d crushed a few of his bones, but was it really that bad ? Of course not!

He was just-, he just had to… One last gig. Just one last gig, and then it would’ve been over. He’d be able to quiet the voices for a while and Dr Poole could just file some insurance thing in the morning. It was a win-win! But now-, now…

 Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockworks. Don’t go to Clockwo-,

“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!! ” 

And the world exploded. It was a mighty crash, a feeling of brief, fleeting intoxication, a snap of long-forgotten wings and the flex of disused muscles. The world, previously so firm and unforgiving, seemed to crack under his exertion. A rush of power burst through his adrenaline-filled veins, banishing all the horrible grime and muck that had told him all his life that he was sick, sick, sick. 

And then he opened his eyes again and the cop was lying on the pavement except he wasn’t there at all, it was just his dead, empty shadow and the air rung heavy with billowing dust and smashed glass and the patrol car he sat within was smashed like a kicked soda can but somehow it seemed to have burst from the inside out, like an inverted car crash and David just sat there, his eyes wide and his breathing quick and his heart beating evenly as though everything was alright. 

Slowly, carefully, hoping his movement might cause the nightmare to be dispelled, David stepped out of the crushed car. 

The ambulance was gone. The other cop car was lying upside-down. The remaining cops were also on the ground, shadows lingering after humans that seemed to have disappeared without a trace.

Something in his head screamed at him, but only when he saw the hollow-eyed devil, peering at him from across the street did he finally muster the energy to run. His legs wheeled beneath him, disconnected from the rest of him. He couldn’t tell where he was going or what he was thinking or what he had done, but he had to get there fast . Cold, blaring street lamps transformed into streaks of light. Passing cars seemed so full of watching, staring eyes that David couldn’t bear to look at him. Around every corner stood the creature with bleeding horns. 

Before he knew it, he stood panting outside the door to a grimy-looking apartment in a bad part of town. The little number on the door had been scratched out to transform 21 into only 1, with a permanent marker adding “B4NG H03S” behind it. 

His hand was trembling as though he’d gotten to the edge of withdrawal. He balled it into a fist and tried to control his breathing. Then, slowly, he rapped it against the door. 

There was a series of crashes inside the apartment which ended with a final bang against the door. A sliver opened, letting a stubbled and unkempt face stick out. Benny’s eye widened in recognition. 

“Shit, dude! Hang on,” the door closed again, followed by a series of clicks and scrapes. Then, the door swung open fully, revealing Benny in only a pair of boxers. “Wassup man? You look like shit!” He looked him up and down, licking his lips - his eyes finally falling on his empty (blood-soaked) hands. “You, uh, got the goods? Like, if you stuck ‘em somewhere else we can just pawn ‘em off tomorrow, but…”

David pushed his way inside the dirty apartment. It smelled like piss and cheetos. More noticeably, the sickly sweet scent of the Vapour clung to every crusty wall. 

“-Or you can just come inside. Alright,” Benny said and closed the door. David paced through the crowded apartment while Benny slid the locks shut.

The apartment was not only extremely small, but also - even worse - cluttered to hell and back. Dirty dishes and leftover takeaway boxes littered every corner, especially around the soda-encrusted couch in the living room. Wallpaper was beginning to peel off the walls, revealing that the wall below it was - surprisingly - blue. The floor didn’t appear to have been vacuumed or cleaned ever since Benny moved in. Maybe before then. 

David collapsed into the couch. Slowly, his breathing and heart rate grew steady and slow. And yet, his eyes remained wide and staring. 

Benny slowly crept inside the living room. And for a few seconds, he just stood there, watching David and wringing his hand like a druggie hoping for another hit. 

“Uh, dude, you alright there? You look kinda - heh - fucked?” He smiled without his eyes. “But you did get the goods right, I mean-, you went there. I know you did, and you’re not a pussy, so like…” Benny stepped closer to the couch, his eyes showing a certain measure of uncertainty and fear. “Did it… go bad ?”

David shook his head numbly. “I don’t-,” he swallowed dryly, “I don’t know. I really don’t know. It is-, it was… I just…” The world seemed to blur before his eyes. “He wasn’t supposed to have been there. Why was he-, he came from nowhere! I was scared, I thought it was a cop or something, I didn’t-, I just…” He burrowed his face in his hands, feeling how his breathing began to hitch and his shoulders started to heave. “He shouldn’t have been there. He shouldn’t have been there.”

David heaved a sob, his back trembling even though he tried to grit his teeth as tightly as he could. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know what I did.” Slowly, he lifted his face from his hands, letting his eyes fall on Benny. That strange smile he’d had earlier was now gone, replaced with an empty-eyed stare. David’s tear-and-blood-soaked hands trembled. “Benny, I don’t think I’m sane.”

Insane, insane, the voice in his head echoed.

Benny scoffed meekly and sat down next to him on the couch. He slung one of his large arms across David’s trembling back. “Hey, don’t worry about it! We’ll find another place, right? Or-, or even better, maybe we can pawn, like, some old stuff, or… Does your sister have anything she isn’t using? Or maybe your girlfriend? You broke up recently, right? So-, so…”

“Benny, I think I might have killed someone?” No matter what Benny was saying, no matter what salesman-like gestures he was making, David’s eyes remained glued to his pale red hands. “This isn’t-, am I hallucinating? Can you see the red, can you-,” his breath hitched. “You are real, right?”

Benny’s smile twitched. “Sure I’m real, man! I’m your- we’re friends, man! Hombreros, vänner, freunde! If I wasn’t real I’d stop existing after the blue wore off, right?”

David nodded, mostly just out of habit. “Yeah. Okay.” He wrung his hands together, watching how the reds streaked across his palms. He shook his head and bit down on his lip. The silence was killing him because it wasn’t silence and he hated to hear the fake not-real voice of Benny repeat in his ears, What the fuck is he saying? Did he go off his meds or some shit? David clasped his palms against his ears. “I-, can you-, can you just, like, turn on the TV? I just… Please.”

Benny nodded stiffly. “Sure, man,” he said. Then he reached for the remote, all the while keeping his gaze trained on David.

The TV flickered to life with a gentle buzz. “-The suspect is believed to be armed and dangerous. Although no motive has been confirmed as of yet, it is believed that the initial conflict was caused fallowing a failed break-in, resulting in the psychotherapist Doctor Henry Poole losing his life. Police had been called to the scene, unfortunately resulting in several further casualties. The suspect was last seen heading in the direction of South Park Avenue…”

A strange silence rang out in the apartment. David wasn’t sure whether the sound of his heart or the voices in his head were louder.

Slowly, Benny’s head turned to face him. “Dude… Did you?...”

His heartbeat grew into a thundering war-drum. He swallowed dryly. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.” There on the couch it seemed as though his body grew heavier and heavier, sinking deeply into the couch. “I don’t know.” With a melodic pop, he sunk right through it, the leather opening up into a world that didn’t really exist. That couldn’t possibly exist. 

Amy was sitting in front of him on a couch. On her couch. In her living room. Yes, the same living room with the strange paintings and the globe and the TV she had her eyes fixated on. A little napkin hung in her hand. Why did her face look all smeared? There were streaks of black running down her eyes and in his infinite confusion he couldn’t understand why. The news mumbled dully on the television but he couldn’t hear it over the static of existing. 

Hey. Amy! David tried to take a step but found his body stuck to the floor as though someone had bolted his shoes down. 

Her face buzzed and twitched like TV static as her face turned to him, eyes wide and fearful. David? he thought he could hear her mumble, but it was so subdued and garbled like she was trying to talk to him underwater. David! She stood up, and in that moment he felt so assured he was dreaming that when the door burst open and soldiers clad in black with helmets and visors and guns and armour stormed inside, he couldn’t see it as being real. Surely, this, too, must have been a figment of his imagination.

His legs seemed to bend and twist like overcooked spaghetti noodles. Amy! he shouted at her, trying to reach out for her, to save her from the men, anything, but within seconds of their arrival, they had disappeared, dragging Amy kicking and screaming out of her home.

The last thing David saw before disappearing was a curly-haired man entering the room, his hands occupied with carving a small piece of wood into a goldfish. His pale blue eye fell on David.

And then he was back in Benny, extremely aware of only two things.

They’ve got Amy, a voice whispered in his ear. 

“They’re coming,” David said, dazed.

“Huh?” Benny replied stupidly. “Who are?”

David flew to his feet and gestured wildly. “They are! The-, the,” 

Division Three, the voice replied.

“Division Three! Third division, D3, those guys!” Now he was practically screaming, pacing up and down the living room, kicking over bottles and dishes. “We have to-, we’ve gotta… Run. Run, or maybe surrender?” A voice in his mind chastised him. “- Shut up !”

“I didn’t say anything!” Benny piped in, bewildered and stunned. 

David shook his head jarringly. “No, no, not you. The voice in-, you know, the,” he pointed at his head and smiled pathetically. “You know. It’s-, but we have to, we should…” He clutched his hands to his head again. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.” He slowly drew a ragged breath, letting it out in little whimpers between clenched teeth. “You don’t-, do you have any left?”

Benny slowly rose to his feet, bringing up his hands placatingly. “Have what?” 

“The-,” David gestured erratically, “the stuff. The blue. The Vapour. I just-, I really need it, okay?” His smile - if you could call it that - took on a desperate, wild nature. 

Benny gulped, trying to slowly step towards the kitchen. “Sure, man. I’ve got some left.” No fast movements, just gentle steps towards where he was going. All the while David watched him from the corner of his eye, breathing shallowly and trembling. “I’ll just go get it, so you… You stay here for a moment.”

“Yeah… Yeah.” 

Run. Run. You can’t fight them. He isn’t your ally. “Benny is my friend. You don’t know him.” You can’t trust anyone. Run. They are coming. “No they aren’t. This is a-, I’m just hallucinating again. Yeah, yeah, that’s it, I just-, I just had a strangely vivid one, and it didn’t actually-, They have your sister. They will use her to get to you. Will you save her or will they bring you to her? “Shut up! Seriously, just-, shut up! Amy is fine, and she’s at home, and that was all just a-, an out of body experience ! None of this is real!” 

You decide what is real and what is not. Gods do not follow rules.

David tried to take his breathing under control, but with that damn voice in his head chattering about shit he couldn’t care less about, he just couldn’t think about it and focus on it and control it , in fact, the only thing he seemed able to do right now was grind his teeth and uselessly clasp his hands over his ears hoping it might keep the voices quiet and keeping his eyes squeezed shut hoping that he might not have to see something horrible horrible and bad.

But in the confines of his head, the voice of Benny chattered in a whisper: Shit. Shit. Shit. Gotta be quiet. Yeah, he’s gone off his rockers. Fuck. My address… Just get the cops here, bitch…

His breathing seemed to grow distant. His-but-not-his voice hissed through his head.

He doesn’t trust you. He never did. Don’t you get it? You have to run. Run. Kill him first. Otherwise, D3 will use him to get to you. They’ll torture him and kill him. Or they’ll force him to tell them everything about you. You can’t let him live. Kill him. Run. He’s not important to the world. What is he? He’s a junkie who’s about to sell you out to the cops. He’ll compromise the safety of the world because he doesn’t care . Come on. Run. But kill him first. For the sake of the world. For the sake of the world.

There was a ringing in his ears. When he moved, it felt as though it wasn’t his feet that were dragging him out of the living room and into the kitchen. And when he held up his hand, training his finger on the exposed back of his friend - the friend currently telling the cops about everything; the friend about to compromise the safety of the world - it felt as though something slippery and icy moved through him, like a massive rotting maggot, moving through his brain and crawling down his brainstem and through his shoulder and into his arm.

And it felt just like it had felt that very second the police had disappeared, where the world had gone white.

It was cold and it was bony.

“- No! ” David cried, grappling his hand to his chest and away from Benny. Jeered off-course, the phone in Benny’s hand exploded into a charred heap of plastic fragments. And for a few seconds, the only sound in that kitchen was the cold panting of David’s breathing. Benny stared at his hand, still holding a few pieces of burnt plastic. He blinked at his hand. Then he turned to David and their eyes met. 

“What the fuck are you?” A simple question David had been plagued by for the entirety of his lifetime. 

The answer got stuck in his throat and he choked on it. 

Silently, mind filling up with demands and reprimands and warnings, David ran out of the door. 

There was only one place he could go.

Chapter Text

“Do you know where he is?”

The sister - Amy Haller - shook her head, smudging her already tear-stained make-up even further. “I don’t know. I just-, I don’t know.” She clutched her handbag closer to her chest. “He’s sick, you know? He isn’t like us normal people, and he… Sometimes, he does things, and it isn’t because he’s evil, he just…”

“Ma’am,” Clark said diplomatically, “he is suspected of seven counts of manslaughter and one count of second-degree murder.”

She pulled her lips tight. “He’s sick. He sees things. This is…”

Sitting in a corner of the room, Walter polished his whittling knife carefully. They were getting nowhere - not like this, at least. They already had a few teams stationed across the city in various spots, one of these being in the apartment of David Haller’s drug-abusing acquaintance. The man had been quite cooperative, though not nearly enough for their tastes. In the end, all the man could tell them was what they could already hear from his semi-destroyed file. 

The general opinion on the situation was that Haller had attempted the burglary with the intent to steal money for recreational drug use as well as the destruction of files on his situation. Why he wanted to do such a thing was uncertain, though the prevailing theory was that Haller had told Doctor Poole something he regretted. 

Sadly, all audio files on David Haller were lost through unknown means, though about half of the written transcriptions were recovered from the pool of blood in which they had been found. 

Doctor Henry Poole himself had unfortunately been killed in Haller’s psychic outburst, leading to a certain lack of first-hand experience. Regardless, there was no question that they were dealing with a powerful psychic.

The scale and extent of this power was so far unknown, though most considered him to possibly be the most powerful psychic encountered yet. His known powers included telepathy, telekinesis, matter destruction and future visions. Just one of these would easily make him an immensely powerful opponent, but now he was more than that.

Of course, Amy Haller, his sister, likely knew all of this before. The telepathy, future visions… She made no grand effort to hide her total lack of surprise. She simply attempted to plead, over and over again, that he was mentally sick. This was, as of yet, undecided.

She wouldn’t say anymore.

Reaching that same conclusion, Clark silently turned to Walter, shrugging.

Assured that they would receive no further valuable response from her, Walter affirmed that conclusion and began to stand.

But then she moved. Perhaps only slightly, but compared to her stoic resistance until now, something in her awkward shuffle made Walter turn back to her.

“If,” she said carefully, “he turns out to be a danger… If-, if he did hurt someone, then…” She bit down on her lip. Hard. Her already reddened eyes threatened to blossom tears anew. “Then he-, he should be stopped.”

He shaved a piece off of the fish’s tail. There was real strength in that woman’s voice. She knew, alright. Always had, always would. 

If things came down to it, they would have her cooperation. Maybe not in what they intended to do with Haller once they found him, but certainly in his capturing. 

Seeing that Walter had decided to stand, Clark followed suit. But then, before they left fully, Walter turned to gaze one-eyed at the sister. He looked her up and down. “When you are ready to tell us where he is, we will listen.”

They’re coming.

“I know,” the kid replied tiredly. David was really starting to get bored of the kid fucking everything up. The only remotely positive aspect of the situation they now found themselves in was the fact that it hadn’t happened in David’s original timeline. Probably. He really wasn’t too sure since there were large blotches in his memory, but it felt new. Sort of. 

Being in their old childhood home wasn’t all that new. 

David tapped his foot on the floor and crossed his arms across his chest. The kid was just sitting there on their old bed, arms slung across his legs, head dangling down. He was still trembling, too, and if David’s brain wiretapping hadn’t gone stale, there was still plenty of adrenaline coursing through his veins. Yeah, the kid had ran all the way here. Leaving that druggie behind.

Better that way for sure. It was a shame they hadn’t been able to take him out, but he shouldn’t know anything too incriminating. 

Still… David let his eyes fall on the kid and sighed.

Look, kid, it isn’t going to get much better than this, so if you just suck it up, this’ll be over much faster, David said, once again trying futilely to convince the kid that if he just let him use his body then everything would be alright. Which was, well, objectively true, but the kid still wouldn’t accept it. As a matter of fact, all the kid did in reply was glare at him through his bangs. 

David frowned. Had he always been so uselessly stubborn?

Frustrated, David began to pace around their old room, looking at things and mentally trying to lift them. But, of course, he held no influence in the physical world. All he could do was assume the kid’s own form and hope it might get through to him.

“Did you do this?” the kid said with a strange force behind it. David turned to face him. The kid took a ragged breath. “Did you make me kill those officers? And-, and Poole?” 

David placed a hand on his chest and made a show of turning to look around him. Me? Kill them ? Well, now you’ve really-, he smiled and scoffed in disbelief, look, think what you will, but I had no part in that stuff. That was all you, kid. 

“Stop calling me kid,” the kid growled, turning away. “I didn’t mean to-, it wasn’t supposed to… I didn’t do any of that! I’m not sane, I see things, so this all has to be-, you have to be some sort of hallucination, or vision, or…”

David shook his head. You still believe that? The kid blinked at him. That you’re insane ?

“I am insane,” the kid deadpanned. “I was-, ever since I was a kid, I’ve seen things, and heard things, and…” He gestured broadly at David. “And that !”

Heh , David said, and in three large strides, he stood over the sitting form of the kid. In a single smooth movement, he bowed down before him until they stood eye-to-eye, at the same level. Their clear blue eyes met. David’s were firm while the kid’s trembled. You’re not insane. You have powers .

“Powers?” the kid echoed softly.

The grin David gave him made the kid visibly shiver. Just like me. Because we’re the same! I’m you, and-,

“I’m not you,” the kid protested, shaking his head, trembling. “You’re some sort of vision. You’re not real, and nothing you say matters. This will all-,”

David turned towards the window facing the backyard. As quickly as he had bowed down, he stood back up and moved towards the window carefully, eyes trained on the dark night outside like a trained hawk watching prey on the horizon. They’re here.

The kid swallowed loudly. “The-, Division Three?”

David nodded sharply. The time for philosophical conundrums and personal growth was over. He glanced over at where the kid sat, small and shivering. You need to let me use your body.

“I need to-, hey!” The kid flew to his feet, pointing an accusatory finger at David. ”Now listen here - you’re not even real! I can’t just-, what, are you supposed to pilot me like some damn gundam? I’m not even-,”

David brought his finger to his lips, quieting the kid. They’re already inside. He wasn’t smiling anymore. And if he didn’t do something - and fast , then the kid would get himself killed. He might be able to handle one or two guards, but any more than that and they were dead. The both of them. If you want to survive the night, you need to let me use your body.

The kid bit down on his lip, his face darkening. He turned towards the corridor. Not a single sound or light was visible. But something in him, some part of him that wasn’t the other him, told him that he wasn’t alone anymore. He balled his hands into fists. “What do I need to do?”

David grinned. Just relax and it’ll all be over before you realize it. 

And then it all worked out.

Chapter Text

She betrayed him. She betrayed her only brother. 

Because that was what had to be done wasn’t it? All her life, she had expected something like this to happen. She should have. She must have. She knew he wasn’t normal. That there was something about him that felt wrong. Something inside of him. 

Like growing up in a haunted house.

But then he got diagnosed and he seemed to be doing alright, for the most part. Not alright, not all the time, of course, but mostly. Having a girlfriend, going to doctor Poole…

A heavy stone settled in her gut, tying a knot in her throat. 

He wouldn’t do something like that. David couldn’t do something so horrible. According to the reports, he had called the police and ambulance himself. But then something happened and she wasn’t sure what and then those men came and brought her away and of course they were very gentle with her but there was still that unsaid truth that if she wanted everything to be right and everyone to be happy again, then she had to betray her brother. It was as simple and as complicated as that.

And she’d done it. In the end, she told them where David might have gone. Where he should have gone. 

Their old family home. Looking at it now, it had barely changed since all those days ago. 

It was small and quaint but in the deep blackness of the dark night, it seemed haunting and dead. And in there was David. Some person among the soldiers and the officers had said so. Some man with a dead, heaven-blue eye. A quiet man who had been there while the other man talked to Amy and tried to make her betray her brother.

That man - Clark - had now brought her along here. Because if they could avoid a direct confrontation, they wanted to do so. 

Amy had pleaded that they spare his life. He didn’t know what he was doing. He was sick, even if he was different in other ways, too.

And they had promised that if they could capture him alive, then they would. 

That was all she wanted to hear. 

So there she stood, wearing a silly little dress and a tawny little cardigan that did nothing to protect from the early-autumn cold. A spirit of wind clawed past her, bearing its biting cold fangs down on her. She tried to pull the cardigan closer around her but found her attention drawn instead to the myriad of vehicles and soldiers around her. They had brought maybe eight, ten vans out here. Just to capture David. 

“We won’t hurt him if we don’t have to,” Clark repeated to her. He stood right next to her, making her somehow feel both protected and exposed. At his side and on her other side stood around six heavily armed soldiers, alongside the heaven-eyed man. 

“He won’t hurt you,” Amy said even though it felt like a lie. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

Clark nodded at her statement though it felt like he only did it as a courtesy. They both knew that David had killed before and could do it again. If he could make seven cops and an entire ambulance disappear without a trace, then he could do the same to them. That was why when Clark turned to the heaven-eyed man and began discussing the plan, Amy wasn’t surprised to hear that her presence would be used as a final resort if nothing else worked. If nothing else, he at least wouldn’t hurt her. 

The heaven-eyed man silently stepped up to her. He held a knife in his hand, but Amy already knew he used it for whittling wood; not people.

Clark stood next to him. “Walter will just-, it won’t hurt at all, we swear. Just relax and it’ll be over before you can notice it.”

Amy felt her brows furrow in bepuzzlement. A meek sense of fear shot through her already guilt-ridden body. “He’ll-, what is he-,”

Before she could react, his large, calloused hand fell on her head and then there was a flash of black and she staggered back, reeling and gasping for breath, but when she opened her eyes again, she found herself staring at a perfect mirror-reflection of herself. Except this version showed none of the confusion and apprehension she felt - merely endless stoicism. Not to even speak of the now-oversized suit it wore. Amy gulped and reached out towards the reflection, only for it to spin on its heel and leave.

Clark followed the not-Amy with his gaze. “We’ve already procured an exact replica of your current outfit. According to Walter, David’s astral projection was able to see your current state, so… Yeah, he’ll just get changed real quick.” Clark tapped his fingers together, eyebrows knit together. He released a breath and turned his face to regard his shoes. “If we’re lucky, we won’t need you or the soldiers at all.” He worked his jaw and fiddled with his fingers. “ If we’re lucky. ”

Amy let her eye follow Walter - that was his name - seeing how he had already perfectly imitated her regular walk-cycle. If he was professional to such a degree, then it was only to be expected that he could speak like her, too. Act like her.

...But would David really buy it? 

Amy bit her lip and hoped to God David would act like a stupid idiot. Just this once.

After a few minutes (during which a kind soldier had brought her a blanket to wear), the time had come. Walter had changed into an outfit mirroring exactly what she wore, alongside a black coat in order to approach unnoticed. A small squadron of guards escorted him towards the house she had once called home. 

From where she stood, the house looked completely dark inside. If nobody had magically sensed him in there, she would have assumed it was empty. But it wasn’t. He was in there.

The house itself was also surrounded by several dozens of soldiers. Everyone was acting as though David might trigger a massive bomb or something, but he couldn’t do that - could he?

The buzz of a walkie-talkie brought her attention back to Clark. “Location reached. Entering.”

Clark pressed a button on the walkie-talkie and replied, “Copied.”

Standing there, cold and frightened, Amy hoped that the description of the interior that she had given them would be enough. That it would help them find him in time. 

And still, it didn’t look like anything was happening. Logically, she knew David might die tonight. That he would soon be engaged by a man ready to kill him. And yet, standing so far away, looking only at a dark house, she couldn’t tell that anything was actually happening. That the world was really about to turn upside-down.

Next to her, Clark stood tapping his foot. The walkie-talkie buzzed again. “Target sighted.”

Clark waited a few seconds before responding. “Engage target.” The feed was cut out. 

Smoothly, Clark brought up a different device. It garbled static for a few seconds before finally spitting out - in a voice so alike her own that she felt startled - “David? Is - bzzt - that you?”

There was no reply. A patch of goosebumps blossomed across her back. “I thought you might be here, so I-,”

“ -Scaboosh !” 

And then the feed cut back to static. Clark’s mouth opened briefly. He closed it again and switched feeds. From the walkie talkie, a soldier explained in a whispering breath how he had just disappeared and should they still continue with the plan but he didn’t want to die not like this, and then that feed was cut out, too. The walkie talkie cycled through more voices, one after the other, each giving their own obituary before cutting out for the last time.

Clark grabbed a hold of the walkie talkie. “To all soldiers - engage target!” 

Amy blinked at him. Engage target? Why would they have to do that? Didn’t the plan work? 

The man - Walter - he had been so alike her. He spoke in her voice. He said things she would have said. He looked like her. Why hadn’t he said anything? Why hadn’t David replied?

Was he-, had David…?

A cold, bony weight settled in her gut. 

Walter was dead, wasn’t he? David had killed him.

And now, the soldiers were dying, too. One by one - snuffed out like candles in a storm.

She felt cold, but not from the chilly air. Her face felt hot and feverish. She blinked and she blinked but her eyes just kept feeling dry and empty. 

Clark continued barking orders at whoever would listen, but as the walkie talkie cycled, the voices kept shifting to dead static. One after the other, they disappeared. And in the end, it was only Clark left, shouting orders at dead ears. 

The six or so soldiers standing around them shifted uncomfortably. Amy couldn’t help but understand their emotions. 

Clark breathed heavily and when he turned to her, she saw earnest and despairing desperation in those eyes. “Guess we’re going with the last resort.” 

Over by the house, for the first time that night, she saw movement. The knot in her throat shifted uncomfortably. 

Somebody was moving over the clearing; somebody whose eyes shone with the reflection of the moon. Unconsciously, she took a step back. Because whoever that was - whoever moved over the ankle-high grass like a panther approaching prey - could not possibly be David. It just couldn’t be. 

From where she stood, his arms seemed elongated and tawny - his head didn’t move an inch and she couldn’t see his face. Only the glint reflected in his wide, staring eyes.

Clark took a few steps back, bringing up his hand to inform the soldiers not to attack.

And then the creature moved out of the darkness and into the silvery-blue light of the moon and it wasn’t a creature or a monster or anything like that at all - it was just David. But his eyes were wrong. 

The soldiers trained their rifles on him but then he brought up his hand and squinted one of his eyes shut and then he licked his thumb and pretended as though he was erasing a drawing by smudging them out with his thumb. The soldiers gave subdued screams before being smeared across the fabric of reality; crushed into red paint, gone before she could even understand what was happening and what was done. With a final wave of his hand, they were just gone.

She and Clark stood left, staring wordlessly at where the soldiers - breathing human people - had been before being erased from reality. 

David - no, the creature approached them. 

Amy could hear Clark’s breathing growing quick and strained, his mind surely racing for a possible solution. 

In a move inspired by fear rather than bounded rationality, he drew a handgun from his side and pointed it at the creature. His teeth were gritted. 

Blankly, the creature turned to look at him. Was that a hint of amusement Amy caught in his dead-blue eyes?

He swatted his hand the way a man carelessly swats at an annoying fly, and with that single moment, with a sickening crunch, both the gun and Clark’s hands were gone. She looked vacantly at him as he gasped at the stumps where his hands used to be. But it wasn’t that his hands had simply been cut off, no, more so that they had been ripped off, leaving torn ligaments and stray nerves and cracked bones behind. Clark fell to his knees, his eyes widening at the sight. 

Unable to bear to look at such a scene, Amy turned back to the creature. When had he moved so close to her? 

He loomed over her, eyes like twin-moons. 

She couldn’t choose whether to scream in fear or vomit in Clark’s place.

Then his hands grabbed her shoulders and he drew her into a warm hug. His calm breath fell on her ears and she could hear the slow, methodical rhythm of his heart. 

Before she knew what she was doing she had pulled away, pressing herself out of his grip, stumbling away from her.

She found him smiling brightly at her. “Amy! It’s so nice to-, how have you been? Are you okay? Boy, have I missed you! You know, last time I saw you, I was…” He furrowed his brows and thumbed his lower lip. She could barely hear him over the thundering beating of her own heart. “Well, it doesn’t matter, does it?”

She wanted to scream at him, we met yesterday, but instead, she just said, “D-, David?”

He smiled at her. “Yup, that’s me! David in the flesh. In a body.” He grinned in a way she had never seen him grin before and she never wanted to see him grin that way again. “You know, I just-, I really…” He fumbled for words. “I really missed you, you know?” His smile this time was genuine, but still no less alarming. 

“David, you…” Her throat felt so dry. The words just couldn’t come out. “Are you really… David?”

His smile went away. “Yes. Who else would I be?” Although his words could be taken for humour, his face didn’t show any hint of any positive emotion. Merely a hollow gaze, like an owl watching a mouse. 

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. She grit her teeth. Drawn by his painful gasps, she finally glanced side-eyed at Clark again, who had now curled up in a fetal position, his hand-less arms painting the tall grass black. “Why did you-,” she gestured at him but didn’t dare turn her face away from David. If that’s who he was. “Can you save him?”

David curled his upper lip, glancing at the dying man like a man glancing at a sink full of dishes. “Why?”

“Because he’s-,” she tried to take a stand but found her legs trembling. “He doesn’t deserve to die. Please. ” She couldn’t believe she was begging her own brother not to let a man die. 

David scoffed. “This guy-,” he began, but then he squinted at Clark. And then, all of a sudden, he was sitting crouched next to Clark and she wasn’t sure how he’d gotten there so fast. He poked at the dying man. “Oh, it’s this guy. Uhh…” he scratched his head, “Clark, right?” But Clark, who was dying, was unable to respond.

“Yeah, he’s-, that’s his name,” Amy said in his place.

David glanced at her coldly and she froze in place. “Huh. Clark. Right… Yeah, that guy. Huh.” For a few seconds, David hummed to himself. “Well, I think I can remember his name - sort of - so maybe he’s important? Well, let’s just assume he is and be done with it.” David pointed at Clark and then he was gone.

Amy blinked at the spot where Clark had previously been. “Huh? Where did he-,”

David stood up, apparently completely forgetting about Clark. “Where was I? Oh, yeah!” He turned to face her, his eyes shining with a mad glint. “We’ve gotta save the world!”

Her mind went blank. “Huh?” The world below her feet seemed to swim and dance. “Save… the world?” A black blotch on the grassy ground left by Clark made her feel sick. “David-, where did he go? What did you do to him?”

David stared at her as though she had asked why the sky went dark at night. “Is that actually important? One life more or less is unimportant. I mean-, we’re talking about billions of lives here! An entire planet.” 

She looked at him and suddenly realized that this was not her brother. He may wear the same face, may speak in the same voice, but this man - this creature , held no actual understanding of moral values. No sense of the worth of human lives. With him standing before her, she felt the compulsive need to ask her if her life was important in the grand scheme of things. If those soldiers didn’t matter, did she? Did he ?

Instead, she said, “Who are you?”

He smiled at her without his eyes and gave a brief laugh without any real mirth. “Haven’t I told you before? I’m Davi-,”

“No, you’re not.” She tried her best to show him her conviction; to put her strength and her will into her voice. To put up a strong front even though she wanted to cower and hide before the creature parading around in her brother’s body. “You’re something else. Some creature in his body. A parasite. ”

If these words led to her painful demise, so be it. She couldn’t back down. Not now that David’s life was on the line.

Because he was in there. He had to be.

The man before her froze in place, face petrified in an expression of cracking composure. Slowly, he took a ragged breath, face darkening into one big shadow. She could only see the moon reflected in his eyes. “ Don’t ,” he hissed. “Call me that.”

He hadn’t denied her and he hadn’t killed her. With some confidence gained, she puffed out her chest. “What else can you be? You’re not a symbiote. You don’t give anything to David except for a higher body count. Have you ever actually helped him?”

The man gave a hyena’s laugh. “Help?! Amy, without me, the kid would be dead by now! I have-, do you know how much I’ve sacrificed? If I hadn’t been here, that guy-, The Eye would have killed him the second he got the chance. We’d both be dead. Simple as that.” He sneered darkly. “I need him. He needs me.”

She tried to restrain the urge to take a step back. “Why don’t you let him talk for himself?”

“Huh?”

She gulped, hoping he might not see through it. “You heard me. If you’re so sure that this deal is good for the both of you, why don’t you let him decide? If you’re David, and he’s David… Then it should be simple. Right?”

For a few seconds, he just stared at her. Then, he grinned broadly. Her heart sank but she didn’t let it show. If she gave away just how afraid she was, he might just do away with her on the spot. “Ah. So that’s the game we’re playing.” Slowly, he began to circle her like a shark smelling blood. “You underestimate me, Amy. Shouldn’t you know by now that I’m not like that? Sure, I may not be your David, but I am a David much more powerful than you can ever imagine.” His hands fell on either side of her neck. “Your David bows to me .”

Her body tensed up for a moment, but then she relaxed.

This was it, then? This was how she died?

She looked up at the moon, not all too upset that it would be her last sight.

But then she heard a strange sound behind her - some odd mixture of a grunt and a gurgle, and then a weight fell on her back, almost making her fall over. Looking at her shoulder, she found David’s head pressed against it. In a fit of pure fear, she whirled around and pressed him off of herself, leaving him to faceplant the grassy ground. 

Chest heaving, she stared at his lifeless form. And then, he began to move again, groaning and mumbling.

With a gasp, David rose again, breathing shallow, rasping breaths. “Where… am I?”

Amy looked at him for about two seconds before she threw herself at him, clutching her arms around his chest. He made a sound like a gasping dog-toy before finally recuperating it. When he spoke again, his throat seemed hurt and scratchy. “Amy? What-, what happened? I was… I don’t feel good.”

“It’s okay,” Amy said in between rising sobs. “Just take it easy. Relax.”

David’s voice receded to a hushed whisper, “Did I… Hurt anyone?”

Her hug tightened and she gritted her teeth. “No,” she said. “You didn’t hurt anyone.”

Chapter Text

He passed out in her arms, exhausted and tense. By using one of the many pieces of equipment left by the soldiers, she contacted the rest of the Division, trying her best to explain what had happened. Not that she understood too well exactly what had gone down, but the person answering her seemed to accept her version of the story, imploring her to stay at her brother’s side and not let him out of her sight. She followed through with caring fervour.

After a quarter of an hour at most, reinforcements arrived in helicopters and vans. By this point, Amy had almost gotten used to people pointing guns at her and everything. 

She and David were brought away with a strange collar and a strange pair of cuffs placed on his unconscious body. She didn’t say anything beyond that. Sure, they interrogated her and she gave her lone report of what had transpired, but in the end, the officials clearly understood that she was far too tired to continue, deciding to simply let her sleep in the facility while they brought David to some sort of containment chamber. 

The last thing she heard about everything was that they would have to drug him, but she didn’t really care about that anymore. She just wanted to sleep, and sleep she did. 

When she woke up in the morning, she found a job offer waiting for her. 

Or, rather, she was given the choice to either join them or to receive some sort of mental manipulation to make her forget everything that happened. Including what happened to David.

She chose the former. 

And so, she came to work with Division Three. If she hadn’t, she would never have been able to understand everything that came next. Officially, to the public, David Haller had been found and killed in a shootout in his family home. Benny, his childhood friend, had been psychically manipulated to forget everything that transpired between him and David. If she hadn’t joined them, Amy would have followed the same fate. 

As for David, he was kept in detainment for a few weeks under the influence of incredibly strong suppressants. During this time, he was hardly lucid at all. But slowly, they decreased the dose, until he was finally both semi-lucid and unable to use his powers. When asked, he could not report hearing voices. 

With him in such a state, they tried to convince him to join him. 

From what they had told her, she could understand that David held incredible value to them. If they could just convince him to join their side, he could help end the mutant threat forever. If not that, then he might at least be able to help them along the way. 

But that idea was shot down quickly enough when they realized David had no control of his powers whatsoever. 

Reports of the inside of David and Amy’s family home told a grisly story. Around 40 fully trained operatives as well as Walter had entered. All had been killed within a time span of around ten minutes. Forensics told of piles of human ashes, people whose head had caved in as though shot with a shotgun, yet lacking any of the heat and gunpowder required - and one person, likely Walter, who had simply exploded into human mush. The hallway outside David’s bedroom was stained with a fine layer of a liquid composed of muscle, bone, blood, skin, internal organs and brain tissue all blended into a single, homogenous liquid. 

The casualties numbered at around 48, +- 1 on account of Clark.

They still hadn’t found him yet. With his injuries, he would likely have died if left alone, but she didn’t think he had died. David - the parasite - seemed to have done something to him. At that moment, she had thought that he would save him somehow, but now she didn’t know. Nobody knew.

Not until Clark showed up on his own.

Apparently, per his unsaid promise, David had actually sent him to a hospital on the other side of the country, where he had remained for a number of weeks until he could finally contact officials. The fact that he had survived brought Amy relief beyond the mere fact that someone besides her had survived the horrific event. No, she felt an even greater sense of serenity by the fact that the parasite - the thing inside David that wasn’t David - wasn’t completely evil. That even if it would gladly kill people left and right, so long as she begged it not to kill someone, it would abstain.

On that matter, the Division hadn’t fully accepted her view of that situation. Specifically that there was a creature inside David. 

They had in it consideration, of course, but the main theory remained (and likely would forever remain) that David had gone mad with his powers. He was mentally ill, after all, so it wouldn’t be all too surprising.

This was one of the things she couldn’t come to terms with. Otherwise, her employment was fair and calm. 

She had a simple job by a simple desk. Her main task was in regards to David, which she was perfectly fine with.

After D3 realized that they would have no good way of using David, they simply decided to keep him sedated and detained indefinitely. Not because it was easier or more morally ethical than simply killing him, but rather because they were betting on the possibility that they might, at some point, either develop some sort of technology capable of controlling him or enlist some psychic mutant able to overpower his mind. Until then, it was up to Amy to keep track of him.

After this decision was made, he was given more space. No longer was he kept in a tiny, claustrophobic chamber. Instead, they moved him to a larger space. Sure, he was still wheelchair-bound and he still had an IV full of sedatives running down and into his arm, but otherwise, he had more space.

But he wasn’t really her brother anymore. He couldn’t walk or talk or move or shit on his own. If there was anywhere he needed to go, he was driven there in his little wheelchair like some sort of invalid. 

Unable to bear seeing him that way, Amy pleaded for months and years for them to lower his dosages. Eventually, the decision came from up above that David’s sedatives would be lowered until he was at least semi-conscious, but any further than that and it was certain he would pose an immense safety risk to the facility. And so, during a period of three months, David was brought back to consciousness. 

He still couldn’t walk on his own, but if you placed him before a simple puzzle, he was able to put a few pieces together in order. 

Seven years passed smoothly. 

Amy grew to understand and comprehend her tasks with greater efficiency, eventually actually holding great sway over certain aspects of the facility. No longer was she entirely defined by her role as David’s guardian. Working alongside Clark, she found purpose in her work. Most of all, she wanted to save David. That was why she worked. 

It wasn’t that she wanted him to escape or anything, it was just that…

She was convinced that if they could only find a strong enough mutant psychic, then he might be able to banish the parasite from David’s mind. And then, David could join her with Division Three and he could be of use and everything would be alright again. That was her dream.

And then a new girl joined Division Three. 

Amy was quite surprised by the situation, mostly since the woman who joined was a mutant herself. Of course, mutants being a part of Division Three was nothing new in and of itself, but this was the first time someone had joined since Walter’s death. Amy couldn’t help but feel quite interested in the new recruit. Hoping not to make too much of a fuss, she approached the woman once she finally saw her alone. Because maybe, just maybe… 

She might be able to help David.

It was lunchtime, so the cafeteria was, as might be expected, a little crowded. Amy usually sat down with Clark (who had now been able to receive a stunningly life-like pair of prosthetics) whom she had grown rather close to, despite the strange situation they had met in. During her years with D3, he had acted as both a colleague and mentor to her. But today, instead of sitting next to him, she placed her plate in front of the new recruit. 

The blonde looked at her from across the table with blank, staring eyes. She didn’t say anything in greeting and for a few seconds, Amy couldn’t bring herself to say anything either.

But then Amy gave a polite smile and said, “Hi, we haven’t met before, have we?”

The woman did not blink. “No, we haven’t,” she replied after a few seconds.

Amy tried her best to retain a polite smile despite the way the woman was looking at her. “I’m Amy, I work with-,”

“I know,” the woman said, interrupting her. “I’ve seen you. Out in the hallways.” A bout of silence passed between them and Amy couldn’t bring herself to fill it with anything. “You should know my name, right? Since you’re the information type, I’d bet you know everything about me already.” Ah, busted. 

Amy glanced down at her food. “Yeah. Sydney Berett. Strategy Officer.” The information written in her file hung heavy in Amy’s head. An entire lifetime history, compacted and deformed into a single A4 of necessary information and trauma. That included a thorough description of her powers. Mind Exchange. Amy played with her food for a few seconds. She turned back to look at the young woman in front of her. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

“Not really,” Sydney said in the same tone she had said everything else. Namely, a completely blank one. “I have work. You have work.” She drew up a gloved hand and rested her head on it. 

Sighing, Amy turned away again. “I just need five minutes. That’ll all. Then you can go back to doing whatever you do and I’ll keep searching for someone like you.”

Sydney shrugged indifferently. “Alright. Just let me finish my lunch.”

That she did. 

Same as how the lunch was spent almost completely in silence, so was their descent further into the depths of the facility. The only thing Sydney said the whole way there was that she had never been there before. Likely due to lacking the proper clearance, but Amy - being of a higher rank than her - could easily supplement it. 

And there they were. After entering a heavily protected door, they found themselves in a dark room, the far end of it made up of a massive glass wall. 

David was in there. Slightly hunched, he sat in his wheelchair, staring blankly ahead. The room was padded from top to bottom with the walls decorated with bright colours and childish posters. The furniture in there was soft and rounded, like what you might find in a daycare. Simple toys, puzzles, jingling boxes and stuffed toys littered the floor. 

Apart from David himself, there was only a single other person within the room: a woman of about forty years of age, wearing an apron. It was hard to tell whether she was supposed to be dressed as a nurse or a caretaker, but Amy knew that this was because she was both. As Amy and Sydney stared at them from the other side of a one-way mirror, the caretaker cheerfully asked David if he would like to draw with the pretty crayons. In response, David drooled. She smiled brightly and pushed his wheelchair over to a soft plastic table. 

A few of the drawings David had made had been pinned to the wall. Most were abstract creations of three or four different colours, surreally splattered across the paper in strange and nonsensical ways. Only two different paintings could actually be made out: one depicting Amy (she was pretty sure) and another showing what appeared to be the skull of an elk shedding velvet. 

Amy turned to look at Sydney, who stared at the scene with confusion and apprehension. Sensing that Amy was looking at her, Sydney turned to her and gestured to David. “Who is that?”

Amy felt a strange smile rise to her face. “David Haller.”

Seeing how Sydney’s brows furrowed in thought, Amy understood exactly the thought process Sydney had gone through. She could almost hear the thought that must have been bubbling inside her head: That’s your brother?

Amy pointed at the IV hanging on David’s wheelchair. “He’s under heavy sedation. He can’t really… It’s not that he can’t think, or that he can’t see, but he just… Isn’t all there.”

For once, Sydney’s expression seemed to shift into something new, namely, pity. “Why would-,” she caught herself and shut her mouth. “Why is he in there?”

Unsure how to answer, Amy turned back to look at David. He still wore that inhibiting collar. Even after close to eight years, they still hadn’t been able to develop something that appeared remotely less degrading. A sigh seemed to once again rise through her and she turned back to Sydney. “Would you like to meet him?”

“Excuse me?” Her fleeting expression of pity was quickly replaced by ill-hidden disgust. “I don’t…” But then she turned back to look at David, and it seemed as though a flash of some strange emotion passed through her. A look in her eye shone through, tattling of some want or desire that Amy couldn’t understand. It wasn’t curiosity that showed on her face when she turned back to Amy and said, “Sure.”

Exiting the viewing chamber, they moved around to a different part of the facility. First, they entered through a heavily guarded sluice, and then into a small room. Amy knocked on the door before tapping a code into a small pin lock and slicing her card. A beep resounded as the door carefully slid open. Amy entered without a shred of hesitation.

“Well, look who’s here to visit! David, would you like to show your sister your cute drawing?” the caretaker - one of three in total - said to David. As always, David gave no response. Smiling blankly, the caretaker removed the drawing from under his limp hand before whirling his wheelchair around to face Amy and Sydney. 

His lifeless, glassy eyes were focused on some point behind Amy. 

The caretaker, still wielding her rigid smile, placed the drawing in Amy’s hands. A frantic scribbling of black and red presented itself to her. “How pretty,” Amy said dully. “Should we put it on the wall?”

The caretaker grinned without her eyes and placed a hand on David’s slumped shoulder. “Of course we should! David here has been a great champ all day - just this lunch he powered through and ate all of his greens. Wouldn’t it be a shame not to give him some reward?”

Smiling, Amy handed the drawing back to the caretaker, who turned her back on them to pin the drawing to the wall.

Glancing at Sydney, Amy found the woman wearing a strange facial expression while staring at David. There was something in her eyes that Amy couldn’t read, but her questions still rung lifelessly without an answer. Moving closer to her brother, she placed a hand on his shoulder. It felt cold to the touch, as though he was only dead flesh. Which he might as well have been. “He is… It’s for his own sake as much as it is for ours. All of ours .”

Sydney gulped audibly, but when Amy looked at her face she found no fear of what David was; only pity. Somehow, it felt refreshing to see someone apart from herself feeling remorse for the poor man. 

Leaning down, Sydney placed her face at the level of David’s own. Like that, it almost seemed as though he was looking into her eyes. “Hi,” Sydney choked out. Her gloved hands curled into fists. “Your name is David, right?” He continued staring blankly at her. Or maybe past her. It was hard to tell. “I will-,” Sydney glanced flittingly at Amy. “I’ll help you. I’m sure I can help you.”

“So, you…” Amy began, watching carefully as Sydney turned to her. “You can help him?”

Sydney stared at her for a few seconds before stiffly nodding. Amy let out a breath. “Okay,” she said breathlessly. “That’s good. It’s good.” She couldn’t tell whether she was smiling or crying. “I’ll… I’ll leave that to you, then.”

It seemed, between the two of them, a misunderstanding of sorts had been reached.

Chapter Text

“Change of plans,” Syd said blandly. Her small room, empty as it was, posed no threat to the integrity of their communications.

The answer rang out in her ear, the perfect picture of bewilderment. “ What? Why would you-, did something happen? ” The voice of Cary spoke as though inside her mind, even though she knew perfectly well it was transmitted through an incredibly small speaker system inside her ear. How Cary came up with this stuff she did not know, but she was pretty sure it was the only way he could actually be of any use. 

“Yeah,” Syd answered, pacing up and down her small, assigned room. She missed Summerland already, but she would only admit it over her dead body. “There’s a… A guy , I guess. Brother of this informations officer. By the looks of it, he’s a powerful mutant of some sort. Powerful enough to warrant keeping him drugged to the state where he can’t even walk on his own.”

“ A-, a mutant?” Cary said with clear bafflement. She understood his emotions very well. 

That man - David Haller - he was… There was something deeply wrong about all of that. And his sister was just-, she was just fine with it! As if having her brother kept like that was a matter of course. Which, by all means, it might very well be. Trying to collect her thoughts, Syd recalled the little information she had been able to uncover on this David guy. 

Normal kid, involved with some assaultive violence, diagnosed with schizophrenia, died in a shootout with the police after a burglary gone wrong. That last one was obviously an exaggeration, but the rest seemed true enough. Either way, this tells her that him being a doodling vegetable is not his regular state. They’re keeping him that way for a reason. Whatever that is, she doesn’t know. But she might be able to find out if she were to ask him.

“Maybe. I don’t know,” she glanced at the door, trying to ascertain if there was anyone on the outside who might hear her. “Whatever he is, I’m sure he’s strong enough to bring down D3. Or keep us safe.”

“ Bring down D3? What, you think this guy can just…” She heard a deep sigh. “ Look, your role here was just to get in, grab some information and get out. All we want to know is what they’ve got planned, not this whole secret-mutant-conspiracy thing. ”

Syd could feel herself making a grimace. “Well, I’m changing the plan, so if you don’t want one less mutant, then I suggest you start mobilizing.” 

“ Are you-,” Cary scoffed on the other side, finally giving a groan. “ You don’t even have a plan, do you? Just going straight in, guns blasting? You’re already surrounded, damn it!”

She glanced down at her gloved hand. “No, I’ve got a plan. You just need to follow along.”

Enlisting everyone else in the conspiracy to her side was just a matter of convincing them that she had everything she would need, which was pretty much true. There was only one matter left, one aspect she hoped might place enough imbalance in the situation for her to grab the invalid and go.

“You want to… See him again?” Amy Haller asked nervously, her thin fingers webbing around a paper cup of instant coffee. The right edge of her lip rose slightly. “Well, that’s… Is it to help him?”

With all due confidence, Syd answered, “Yes.” The woman before her visibly relaxed.

“Is that so? Then…” She smiled a strained, characterless smile. “Of course. I’ll bring you to him right away.”

Walking down there again was, as might be expected, pretty awkward. In the two weeks or so that had passed since their first meeting, Syd hadn’t even talked to her again. Mostly because she kind-of sort-of hated her. Maybe not hated so much as disrespected. Who in their right mind would let their own brother get to such a state?

Even now, Syd couldn’t help but feel a vague sort of disgust over the whole situation; a feeling she was far from familiar with. 

She was his sister , damn it. Shouldn’t she care a little more about him?

Also, just to glean as much information as possible, Syd had tried her hardest to research this David person. Any information she could. Whether it was from Amy herself or Clark or official records, there was nothing to be found. The records were incomplete and required higher clearance, Clark wouldn’t even admit to knowing who David was and Amy seemed completely traumatized over whatever had happened. 

This did nothing to stop Syd’s plans. 

Not that she was doing this because she pitied the drugged invalid, of course not, she was just… This was a great way of gaining a potential ally. A situation wherein he would be obviously indebted to them, where he would already have clear animosity to D3… His sister being a part of D3 might pose a problem, but not big enough for Syd to genuinely rethink her plans.

She already had everything else she needed, so why not leave with a bang, crippling D3 at the same time?

Again, Syd stood inside the strange viewing room. David Haller was on the other side, attempting to lay a puzzle while his caretaker (a different woman from last time) gave him encouragement. It felt perverse to look at. But soon he’d be out of there - she’d make sure of it. Even if it came at a certain cost.

“You’re sure?” Amy asked, prompting Syd to turn her head to look at her. “He’s… You’ll save him, right? You said so, so…”

“Yeah, of course,” Syd answered in full honesty. Of course she’d save him. 

The sister’s cooperation certainly made this much easier. Syd wasn’t sure if she could trust her during the existing phase, but it would probably work out alright regardless. “He’ll be safe soon,” she said, easily speaking the code words indicating for her allies to begin their end of the plan. 

Amy smiled at her and led her towards the door into the room. Well inside the slouce, Syd took a deep breath. The guards stepped aside and the door opened.

“Look who’s here to visit! It’s your sister and a nice lady.” Turning to them, the caretaker turned David around. His eyes were as empty and lifeless as before. Effects of the drugs, nothing else. In a few moments, that would all be gone. 

Greeting him, Amy bent down and gave him a small hug. Following suit, Syd bent down as well until she was again at the level of his eyes. Was it her imagination, or did his gaze focus on her?

Silently, while Amy turned to talk with the caretaker, Syd slid her glove off her hand and placed it in her back pocket. Then, readying herself for the pain that was sure to come, she placed her hand atop his and everything changed.

A flash of deep red rang out alongside an intense pang of pain and fever, their mere touch seemingly sending sparks of power with immense magnitude across the room, spreading out and touching and all of a sudden she wasn’t crouching down anymore, no, she was sitting down and her body felt heavy and limp but strong and powerful and when she looked before her she saw how her own body - the body now inhabited by David Haller - began to move and stagger.

Dragging herself out of the wheelchair, Syd grabbed a hold of David’s hand, feeling how dainty it was in her larger hand. The man in the form of a woman gasped, his staring eyes moving around the pathetic room. His jaw set itself tight and Syd could hear the grinding of molars. There was disgust in his eyes. 

But she was busy feeling sick and bad and horrible and when he had decided to stand and hold his hand, she found that the world no longer obeyed her, but instead moved and swayed beneath her feet, tossing her back and forth like a kid playing with a ragdoll, but even if she wanted to puke and hurl and regurgitate all the sick that had settled inside her stomach, she instead found herself staring straight ahead at the creature that stood in the corner of the room, its horns massive and bleeding. 

Her breath grew ragged and when she blinked it was gone. 

But she couldn’t rest. Inside her new body, she could feel the power - that immense, wild power - moving and slithering and yearning for release. Hoping to open the door, she waved her arm frantically, only to find that entire wall - guards and caretaker and Amy and all - flying away as though hit by an immense weight.

Not Amy, though. 

No, as Syd stood there blinking dumbly, she found that somebody had caught Amy’s limp body in his arms. Amy stared at the perfect copy of David Haller standing there with his sister in his arms, grinning oddly at her. You know, nothing against rescuing us or anything, but you really didn’t need to try and hurt Amy or anything. He gave a sound that might have been a laugh, but she really couldn’t tell. If it hadn’t been you , I might have thought you were here to hurt us!

Syd gulped, blinked twice and then dragged the semi-limp body of David Haller through the rubble of the hallway. The not-David holding Amy’s unconscious body followed her with his gaze. Is that the game we’re playing?

Glancing back, Syd suddenly found that Amy’s body was just lying atop the rubble, breathing slowly. Which was strange, since all the other bodies were inside the rubble.

Choosing not to think about it, Syd dragged David’s body upon her shoulder, trying desperately to get him to follow her. But even in her body, he was almost completely out of it. She hoped to god it would wear off after a while, otherwise, they’d just be left with a troublesome yet immensely powerful mutant. She grit her teeth. 

This was bad. Her mind was overwhelmed. The blaring lights of the hallway roared through her retinas. The wailing alarms almost popped her eardrums. The voices of countless humans murmured and mumbled and screamed and shouted inside her head, and for just a second, she was assured that she had gone insane just by association. She didn’t want this. She hadn’t expected this to be the case.

A squadron of soldiers appeared from behind a bend. She waved her arm at them and they were all crushed into red paste but she couldn’t understand how. 

When she turned that same bend, she found David Haller standing there again. Auditory hallucinations. Visual hallucinations. Delusions. This had to be-,

I really missed you, you know? Her breathing felt so heavy and she could move. The lean body of her counterpart clung to her body. Was he astral projecting or something? He’s not. The kid isn’t that good at stuff. Also, uh… She blinked and the vision suddenly stood mere inches from her, his grin taking on a strange and irregular shape in the bleeding red light. If you want to, I could turn things down. Or help you. Like-, heh, I mean… 

There was a visible blush on his cheeks and Syd hated it. Rescuing me? Very nice. Appreciated. Truly. And, also, I… I know what it’s like. With the noise and all, so… If you just ask me, I can tone it down. Or I can get us out of here completely. Just give up this guy’s body and I’ll get us out of here. Doesn’t that sound good?

What the hell was he saying?

Alright, that does it - this is a visual hallucination. Resolving herself, Syd pushed through, dragging the physical David through the hallway and further through the facility. Every now and then, a group of guards would appear before her, but faced with the overwhelming, obnoxious might held within her body, they all disappeared soundly. She shouldn’t have been, but she felt afraid. The switch wouldn’t last much longer and the man already seemed to view the world with some measure of actual understanding. 

Leaning against a bend, she saw the vision once more. Syd. Syd. Okay, no more secrets, right? We promised that, so, I just want to say that, like, I’m here for you. Just say the word and I’ll take over. She tried to push through, but just as she attempted to pass that gastly spector, his hand fell on her shoulder. She froze in place. The hand that laid on her shoulder had actual weight and strength. She glanced at the spector. I can take over. Please. 

Alarm bells rang in her already overcrowded ears and she shook off his hand, staggering away. He kept shouting things after her, but she tried her best to tone it out. Somehow, the vision seemed to be able to cut through all the other sounds and impressions.

The scenery had changed. She hadn’t noticed it before, but she was no longer dragging a half-conscious body through a hallway, no, she had suddenly found herself in the cafeteria. She hadn’t meant to go there. Why had she-,

Why don’t you sit down? Join me for some waffles. The vision sat on the other side of the conveyor belt, holding onto two plates of waffles. She stared at him in abject horror.

“Freeze!” A group of soldiers led by Clark appeared on the other side of the restaurant. The vision kept staring at her though. “David, you don’t want to do this,” Clark said grimly. Their eyes met. “Or is it Syd?”

In desperation, Syd raised her hand, hoping that she would be able to escape before David Haller came back to. She moved it slowly over the line of soldiers, watching as each of them, one by one, turned to ash. But just as she was about to move over Clark - just another agent of D3 - a hand gripped hers. Her face whipped around to see David Haller standing before her. For a split second, she couldn’t tell if it was the real one or a vision.

Not him, the vision cooed softly. Well, in reality, I don’t really care, but Amy said she wanted him to live, and I do feel like I recognize him from somewhere, so… Spare him, will you?  

“F-, fire!” Clark shouted and Syd only barely had enough time to raise her hand and knock over the lot of them before shots began ringing out, each lodging themselves in the roof. The fact that they hadn’t died told her that her seconds were numbered. In a flight of panic, she jumped over their collapsed bodies, dragging David Haller with her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the vision checking over Clark’s body, apparently making sure that he wasn’t hurt.

She ran and she ran and she ran until her breath could barely hold her anymore and she had to pause and lean on her knees, her legs trembling and her lungs burning. David Haller’s body felt so heavy on top of her, but at least she couldn’t see the vision anymore. The world had seemed to have calmed down for a moment.

Then there were the sounds of footsteps from up above and she raised her hand, ready to do away with them in the blink of an eye.

“Syd!” Kerry said as she appeared before her. Ptolomy was beside her holding a Tommy-gun.

Syd looked down at her hand and found it small and dainty. David Haller’s body was much bigger now and she could barely carry it. 

In a movement that Syd could barely comprehend, Ptolomy appeared next to her and took David Haller off her shoulder and placed him on his own. Haller groaned painfully and seemed just about ready to heave. “Relax there, we’ll get you out of here,” Ptonomy said soothingly. 

Syd couldn’t remember ever feeling so sick. Her whole body was crawling, but she could tell it wasn’t because of the drugs or the transformation or the bare-skinned touch. It was that damn vision. That thing was… If that was how David Haller actually was, she’d shoot him in the head the first chance she got. But for now, she just wanted to get out of there, and fast.

The rest was as might be expected. Syd never thought she would miss the usual gun-shooting and ass-kicking, but here she was. Of course, she couldn’t actually join it herself since she felt just about ready to heave, but she still preferred it to the disgustingly easy death she had given those soldiers.

The wave of an arm. That was all it took.

A dozen people reduced to ash and homogenous human mush, indiscernible from another. What would their families receive? A little jar of human jam to call their own? 

While Kerry and Ptonomy fought off the latest batch of soldiers, Syd covertly vomited in the corner of a hallway.

They continued until the daylight sun finally greeted them and Summerland’s vehicle was close by. “You’ll be safe soon,” Ptonomy said to David Haller. Syd wished he was saying it to her. “Just relax and take it easy.”

There was a whisper. Barely perceptible, but Syd swore she heard him whisper something. “ ...Amy… ”

They put him in the back of a van. Just as Syd was about to climb inside, she saw a familiar face run out of the facility, her grey skirt covered in blood and rubble. “Sydney!” Amy Haller cried. 

Syd paused and turned to face her fully. Ptonomy raised his gun but Syd held up her hand, stopping him. Amy was alone. 

The sister stopped a few paces away, breathing raggedly. Her face was full of scratches. “Please… It isn’t him-, he isn’t… There’s a devil inside of him, and it isn’t him! You can’t trust that devil!”

Syd didn’t respond. 

“You have to…” Amy collapsed to the ground, sobbing. “Please… Help him… ”

They would help him. But it might not be what she would want.

Silently, Syd turned her back on Amy and got in the van. 

They drove off.