Our heroes venture into the abyss to save their world, while trouble brews back home. |
Jake stood outside the doors to the old Metropolis' town hall. The city had built a new one years ago; his father had overseen the project himself. Nowadays, this place was used as a meeting spot for different support groups. AA, NA, and most recently a survivors group. That was what brought him here tonight. He'd heard about a group that met on Wednesday nights that talked about the things they'd endured under Goth's rule. The group used similar guidelines to that of the other support groups; anonymity and confidentiality, no cross talk, and a focus on one's own thoughts, feelings, and experiences. He needed this, or at least that's what he told himself. It had been a little over a month since the incident in Ravenfalls, and things had gone from bad to worse for him and his friends. Rebecca had almost completely vanished shortly after regaining her strength, but she kept tabs and contact with him for her own personal reasons. Occasionally, he'd receive a letter with instructions on a time and place to meet so she could see him and conduct odd experiments with her powers; it was always the same, a letter attached to a Raven. The symbolism wasn't lost on him, and he knew it was meant to be a compliment. He'd found her one night, a couple of days after he gave her the book, writing new scripture in their study. He'd scoffed when he read it, but the more he read the more his heart sank. She hailed him as a heroic herald of her religion, citing him as her personal Raven who sacrificed everything to bring about her return and the world's salvation. Ridiculous as it sounded, there was no denying the truth to her words; he'd played a part in restoring the most notorious villain his home had ever seen. Beth had been pissed when she learned about Rebecca's return to power. The last time he'd spoken to her had been the day she found out. His head still hurt thinking about it. She'd pistol whipped him after yelling at him for nearly half an hour and knocked him out. When he came to, she was gone. She wouldn't answer his calls or texts, and whenever he talked to Pam she was in a similar boat. Apparently, the two had gotten into a massive fight once Beth found out what happened. It didn't help that, according to Pam, Rebecca had paid her a visit and left her a "reward" of sorts. Pam was devastated, and she'd withdrawn into herself after that night. The only time he saw or heard anything about Beth was in the newspapers. She'd been beating, maiming, and disposing of the criminal element at a much more rapid rate since that night. It was an attempt to distract herself from her feelings, he knew his friend too well to think otherwise, but he also knew she was looking for answers on Rebecca's whereabouts. This left both he and Pam alone, and he knew that it was killing Pam on the inside. That was part of what brought him here tonight. He had nobody to talk to about everything that had happened and everything he'd done. He wasn't sure about going inside, though. The idea of admitting his part in Rebecca's past dealings, and her resurrection as the Goth Goddess wasn't exactly something he wanted to do. The shame of it all was eating at him, and it was part of why he wore what he did here. He'd come in a pair of loose fitting track pants and a large hoodie with the hood drawn up. He had his suit on beneath it, wrong as it felt to wear it, but it was well hidden beneath his street clothes. He didn't want to be seen here, not until he went in anyway. Most people believed that he'd either been killed or had been on a business trip, and he wasn't looking to draw attention or answer questions anytime soon. His former persona, Birdboy, had been confirmed dead since before Beth took on her new role. How people failed to draw the connection between The Raven and Birdboy was beyond him, but he wasn't worried about it. That part of him had died back at the tower all those months ago. He summoned his courage and walked up the steps and through the double doors. The place was a vibrant shade of sterile white, something that was accentuated by the bright fluorescent lighting up above. He slowly walked through the empty hall towards the sound of distant chatter. "Hello," he called out. "We're in here!" a female voice called out and he heard her excuse herself, "Looks like we have a late arrival, I'll be back and we can begin." He waited by the old desk that sat in the middle of the room. He watched as a middle aged blonde woman wearing a black dress and a white coat walked out of the room. She had shoulder length bleach-blonde hair and a set of piercing blue eyes. She wore a smile on her face, but there was something off-putting about her that he couldn't place. She had a scarf wrapped tightly around her neck. "Aren't you that politician, Meg Myers?" he asked, recognizing her from a few media outlets. Her smile grew and she showed a set of pearly white teeth. He was vaguely reminded of a shark sizing up her prey. "Guilty as charged," she said in a calm and pleasant tone of voice, "Goth's reign of terror, in a way, was the great equalizer among the good people of Metropolis. Rich or poor, we were all affected the same way by those dreadful devices." "I haven't heard truer words than that," he agreed, "It's good of you to come out to these meetings. I'm sure it helps people to see someone as well known as you participating." "I don't just participate, sir, I'm the founder of this little group," she said, "I felt it was my duty to try to help the people of my city move past those traumatic events. I'm guessing that's what's brought you to us this evening, am I right?" "Uhm, yeah actually," he replied, "I've been...dealing with a lot since the incident, and I figured it might help to try to get a support network of sorts." "We all need a little help every once in a while," she said with a nod, "What's your name, friend?" He hesitated for a moment before deciding to trust her welcoming persona, "Jake." "Well, Jake," she said with an odd emphasis on his name, "Why don't you come with me and meet the others? We've already eaten, I'm afraid, but we were just getting ready for an open share circle." "A-alright," he said and followed her down the hall. His nerves were starting to get the better of him. He'd faced monsters, both human and inhuman, but this was more terrifying than anything he'd done. It felt silly, but he was about to expose himself to a bunch of strangers. Throughout everything he'd endured and fought, he had never felt quite so vulnerable as he did now. These people were victims of a false God he'd helped to create. He was too, but none of these people had directly helped Rebecca the way he had. He wondered if this was the right choice. It wasn't too late to turn back, to throw himself into the field or hide away in his apartment. He knew, deep down however, that he needed to get this off his chest. His actions had cost himself his friends, his life, and caused an untold amount of suffering to the city he loved. What he didn't know, was how much suffering his choices had caused. He almost dreaded hearing the stories of these people more than sharing his own. They came into a large room with roughly twenty men and women seated in fold out chairs. Just as Meg had said, the chairs were aligned in a circle, and all eyes were on him as they walked in. "Everyone, this is Jake," Meg introduced him, "He's another victim of that monster's machinations, and he's found the courage to speak up about what she's done to him. Let's welcome him into our group, and help him to know that this is a safe place for people like us. Please, Jake, take a seat wherever you like." He waved shyly as a couple people greeted him. A woman with auburn hair and green eyes was the first to speak as he walked to an empty seat, "It's nice to meet you, Jake, I'm Chasity. I've been coming here since the Meg started the group. We're like a family here, and whatever you had to do while those awful collars were on, we won't judge you." "Thanks," he said, feeling a slight relief from Chasity's warm welcome. He walked past her, since the seat beside her was taken, further towards the back. A portly balding man stuck out his hand to greet him as he walked, "How ya doin' kid? Name's Andy, and normally I'm not one for all this touchy feely shit. Got to admit, talking 'bout everything that witch made me do though...it's made moving forward in my life a lot easier. Always good to see some new faces. Anything you say here, stays here, and that's a promise you can take to the bank." He smiled at Andy and shook his hand, "That means a lot, Andy," he said, "It's good to know that this is a good place with good people." "Some of the best I've met in my lifetime," Andy said, "Listen, you don't have to share your first time if ya don't want to, but I'll be the first to tell ya it does help if ya got something to say." "I'll keep that in mind, thanks Andy," he said as he walked to a spot closer to the back. "Alright, everyone," Meg said as he sat down, "You all know why we're here, and you all know the rules. Since we have a new member joining us, I'll go ahead and reiterate them. First and foremost, anonymity and confidentiality are key components and requirements for our group to work. Our group only works if we know that what we share goes no further than this room. Try to keep your sharing focused on your own thoughts and feelings, these are your stories and should pertain to you and you alone. Try to avoid crosstalk, crosstalk is when two or more people engage in a conversation that excludes the rest of the group. Crosstalk can also be when someone comments on another person's sharing; we don't want anyone to feel like they can't open up with us. Lastly, we are here to support one another, not fix each other. With that out of the way, I'll call the floor open. Tell us about your day, week, month, how happy, how sad, how good, or how bad things have been for you. We don't do time limits on sharing, and if you need to excuse yourself for any reason none of us will be offended." Jake sat back and listened for the next hour as one by one the members of the group shared what they'd been going through. He was shocked at some of the testimonies he heard, and what Rebecca had forced some of these people to do. Chasity, the sweet girl she was, had been nearly made to commit suicide, and as a result now had a major fear of heights. She talked about the night she'd been compelled to go to the roof of her apartment, and how she had stood on the ledge for six hours unable to move. She had since been working to overcome her fear with the help of another member of the group, but she'd been too afraid to stay in her apartment. She packed up and scoured the city until she found a place on the ground floor on the Eastside of the city. Andy had been a happily married construction worker before Rebecca's reign of terror. His wife had refused the decree issued by Jake's own company, and as a result Andy had been forced to watch as a group of civilians burst into his home to beat her into submission. He wasn't angry or bitter with any of the people who'd abused his wife, but there was a clear hatred for Rebecca. The worst part had been that he had been forced to deliver the killing blow. The way he described her bloody and crying face was haunting, and it was clear the memory was still fresh in his mind. She'd begged him to stop, to help her, but the power of the collar was simply too strong for him. He'd killed his wife, and had spent a lot of time mourning her loss and regretting his own weakness. He'd been trying to date again, but he'd since developed a fear of getting close or intimate with women. Whenever he looked in the mirror, all he saw was his wife's blood still splattered across his face. Etta, an older woman possibly in her sixties, talked about having to watch her grandchildren turn on one another. The oldest was fifteen when it happened, and she'd begged them to just wear the collars until either Birdboy or Catgirl could save them. They refused insisting that the city's heroes had abandoned them, and that even the newest vigilante had failed. There were eight of them, and in the end half had agreed to wear the collars. As punishment for their refusal, the four had been made to kill the others and their parents. The fight had left even the four who agreed to wear them bloody beyond repair. There was no magical healer sent to save them, no hospital staff sent to aid them, and Etta was left there to watch them bleed out on the living room floor. She still hadn't been able to get the blood stains out of her carpet, and she was weeping by the end of her story. He knew that things had been bad, but he had no idea the extent to the depravity that had ensued during that time. He wondered if Rebecca knew, or if she'd been kept in the dark about it all. All of this sounded like things that Aurora would have loved more so than Rebecca. The sadistic amazon had always held incredible contempt for life and happiness; he was glad that he'd killed her. One less sociopath for the world to deal with. Hearing these heart wrenching tales, he could understand why Beth now operated the way that she did. Maybe it was better to put down criminals before they became a problem, but didn't everyone deserve a chance at redemption? It was difficult to say, but Pam was the wildcard that kept him thinking people could change. Then again, Beth had originally killed her before she came back and had a change of heart. Jake sat on the edge of his seat as he listened a man a little older than him tell his story, "Louis was only eight months old...I...oh God...I still can't believe she made me do that. I loved him, and all I can think is why? Why me and why him? My own son...what sort of monster does that to people?" he paused to take a shuddering breath, "I went to his grave today, like I've done every day since it happened, and I just wonder if he hates me or not. Cheryl left me after it happened, and I found out last week she took her own life. Now, I'm completely alone. God, I can't help but wonder if I should just take my own life, ya know? I used to see stories about people who did shit like what I...what I did, and I always thought they were the scum of the earth. Now, I'm no better than any of them." "Gerald," Meg spoke up, "Do you mind if I say something?" Gerald had tears streaming down his face at this point. He waved his hand and managed to get out, "Go ahead, Meg, I don't mind at all." "What happened, what you did, it wasn't your fault," she said adamantly, "You were not in control of yourself, none of us were, and what happened to Cheryl is a tragedy. If I could have found her then maybe I could have at least convinced her that through carrying on she could have honored Louis' memory. We owe it to those who have been hurt, that we've hurt, and to ourselves to press on into the next day. If we give in to those dark thoughts that we all have, then that vile woman has won. She wants us to feel this way, to feel hopeless, because that's what people like her thrive on. You're not alone, Gerald, we are here for you and we always will be." There were murmurs of agreement and several people got up to hug the poor man. When they sat back down he sniffled and said, "Thank you, thank you all. This place, these meetings, they're the only thing that's kept me going and kept me sane." "We are a family, Gerald," Meg said, "Not by blood or class, but by the events that we have all had to endure. Is there anyone else who wants to get something off their chest? I'm sorry, Gerald, please don't let me cut you off early if you have more to say." Gerald shook his head, "No mam, I think I've said all I can tonight, but thank you for the courtesy." "Anytime, Gerald," she replied, "Is there anyone else?" Jake had listened to some true horror stories over the last hour, and now it was his turn to share. He swallowed nervously, pulled back his hood, and leaned forward in his seat, "My name is Jake, and...I've been suffering Goth's tyranny since before the incident. It started years ago, for me. I met her in a dark place in my life over I'm Citiville...I had no idea the kind of person she was back then, and even now I had no idea how truly horrendous she was until I came here. She lied to me, she manipulated me, and she used me in every way possible. My...friends have suffered as much, if not more than me, by her hand. One of my friends was the first victim of those...those damned collars. Goth broke her body, and then restored it only to use her as a plaything. Luckily, for her at least, there was someone in her court that didn't agree with everything she'd done. She managed to get possession of my friend, and I do mean literally, but she had her collar removed and the two of them went on the run." He sighed and looked down, unable to meet the eyes he could feel on him. He rubbed his hands together nervously and continued, "I was...hell maybe I still am, Goth's personal plaything. She became obsessed with me after our one night together, and even after I learned who she was, what she was, she kept pursuing me. I rejected her back then, but she swore that I'd live to regret it. She gathered every resource at her disposal, captured everyone I cared about, and held my home and my friends hostage until I gave in...so I made a deal. I agreed to serve her, be with her or whatever, on the condition that she leave Metropolis and everyone in it alone. She trained me, gave me these...these fucking tattoos, and yet that still wasn't enough for her." "I found out that she'd gone back on her word, and she was interfering with things here in the city from the shadows. At the time, I didn't see how things could get any worse, and so I chose to take a stand against her. I lost, and then she showed me just how cruel she could really be. That...that was when she rolled out those damn devices. She stole everything from me, took my company, my life, and the lives of everyone in the city I swore to protect! So...when the opportunity arrived, my friend, her newfound girlfriend, and myself took a final stand against her. We figured, 'at least we could say we did everything we could to stop her' and we managed to survive. The thing about evil, though, you can't really kill it. Ask anyone, and you'll get different opinions, yeah, but I've seen it with my own eyes. Evil isn't just a thought or a feeling, evil is in the hearts of every man, woman, and child somewhere buried deep. Ill intent will always find a way, like some dark fell wind that blows across the world…" "We couldn't kill her, she was too strong. What we could and did do, was rob her of all of her powers. That should have been the end of it, but I was so broken and so messed up that I...I let her manipulate me once again. I believed that the person who broke me had to be the one to fix me, and like a fool, I let myself believe that she could change. As I said, ill intent will always find a way, and now...now she's coming back. She's regained her powers, stolen herself away, and I don't know what to do! She believes that I'm the one who restored her, and...and the worst part is, I'm afraid she might be right. If I'd have just...if I hadn't...we should have killed her, but we didn't and now...now I don't know what's going to happen! Neither of my friends will speak to me, I've still yet to regain what was once my life, and now there's a chance for a second coming!" There was a tense silence in the air as he finished speaking. He looked around the room, and those supportive eyes had morphed into shocked, cold, and hateful stares. Some of the people looked scared, but most of them looked angry. All except Meg, who looked the most imposing out of all of them. She still wore that calm and shark-like smile, and something was causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. She was the first one to speak, and still in that eerily calm voice, "Tell us something, Jake, what is your last name?" He tensed, and did a quick scan of the room. Things were about to take a turn, he could feel it, but he wasn't sure what or why it was. "Blackridge," he replied, "I'm Jake Blackridge, but I didn't sanction any of those damned collars to be made." "But it was your company that forced them on all of us," Meg countered, "Why did you come here tonight, child? Did your master send you, or were you just looking to hear about the horrible things that happened because of you?" "No I-" he started before Gerald cut him off. "I killed my son because of you!" Andy joined in the outrage, "Melissa is dead because of you and that bitch!" "I didn't want or ask for any of this!" Jake yelled, "Goddamnit, I came here because I can't live with this shit anymore! I've lost the people I've cared about, been forced to kill a woman I loved, and I was forced to help Goth regain her powers!" "Interesting choice of words, Mr. Blackridge," Meg said as she slowly stood up, "You came here because you couldn't live with the guilt. Now, I know that we are not here to fix one another, but I think we can help remedy your problem. Remember, children, what happens in the group, stays in the group." "What are you-" he asked as everyone slowly got to their feet and began stalking towards him, "Hold on a minute, I didn't come here to die or to fight. Please, I'll go and I won't come back. I can disappear if that helps you all." "It won't bring back my grandbabies," Etta said, "You'll disappear alright, but we'll make sure you get the same treatment we were forced to get or give!" He rose from his chair, and looked for the best possible way out without violence. There were too many, and in such a small space with only one exit. He was going to have to get his hands dirty. "Come now, Mr. Blackridge!" Meg cheered, "Don't you think you owe it to those people, your city, to give your life so that we can all heal?" "I'd gladly give my life for this city," he replied as he backed up, "But I'm not dying here tonight. Get back, please, I don't want to hurt any of you." "It's too late for that," Chasity spat, "We've all suffered because of you!" Andy lunged for him, but he backed up and sidestepped him. He slid his foot under the chair he'd been sitting on, and kicked it into the crowd. He hated having to fight these people, but he had to get out of here fast. He moved forward, and managed to avoid Etta swinging her cane at him. She started to fall, but he reached out to catch her. He yelped when he felt her bite his hand as a thanks. He threw her into a small group that was advancing on him, and he was relieved when they stopped their assault to catch her. He vaulted over Gerald, who was swinging wildly at him with tears in his eyes, and kicked off of his back. Gerald hit the ground with a thud, and Jake felt more guilty than ever. He broke into a sprint and shouldered past the remaining people. "Stop, Jake!" Meg yelled, "You can't run from this forever!" "I'm not running anymore," he called back as he exited the room, "I'll find a way to undo this, but dying isn't an option, not today!" He burst through the double doors and raced down the steps. He ducked into an alleyway and quickly threw his civilian clothes off and into a dumpster. He pulled his grappling gun out, fired it upward, and flew up and away from the trail of broken lives Rebecca had left in her wake. He hit the rooftop and glanced back. They were right. He was just as responsible for what had happened to them as she was, but it was his responsibility to fix this. "Guess I'll have to try Beth's way of relieving guilt and frustration," he grumbled to himself as he walked towards the opposite ledge. Beth sat at the end of a rundown bar somewhere in the bowels of the Southside of Metropolis. A bottle of whiskey and three glasses rested in front of her. She couldn't remember the name of the place, but it smelled like piss and looked like shit. She didn't care, though, it was the only place in the city she could go to completely avoid Jake and Pam. Salley had been the one to show it to her, and her and Sam sat just one stool down from her. It was amazing how much things had changed for her. Whereas once she would have been chasing the two of them and their old gang through the streets, now she was having a drink with the two and sharing information regarding Rebecca's return to power. The girls also offered an ear to her and her current problematic homelife. Salley reached for the bottle and poured the three of them another glass, "So tell me again why you're so mad at Pam." "Cause she fucking lied to me!" Beth yelled, "She says she loves me, I tell her everything, but she couldn't even be bothered to tell me that she knew Rebecca was up to her old shit. Instead, I find a bag of that cunt's nasty old socks stuffed behind my reloading bench. I mean, she's probably at home right now fingering herself while sniffing those things!" "That's an image I really didn't want," Sam said with a shudder as she took a sip from her glass, "Nastiness aside, Beth, I really don't think that she's doing that. You ever considered that maybe she was afraid to tell you? You are kinda a loose cannon and you're kinda scary." Beth glared at the girl and reached for her pistol, "The fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Salley put a hand on her arm to keep her weapon holstered, "Easy, Beth, Sammie wasn't trying to rile you up," she said trying to ease her niece's nerves, "All she's saying is that maybe you're jumping the gun. I talked to your girlfriend back in that shitty sawmill, and she was more worried about you than herself or any of us. She does love you, kid, and I'm sure there's more going on than you're considering." "Yeah, she's probably planning on stealing me away to join up with that crazy bitch again," Beth said. "That's ridiculous," Sam said, "You told us that she was so shook up she couldn't even talk. She's probably scared, shit I know I am." "If she's scared then she shouldn't have helped her," Beth countered. "Fear is a funny thing, Beth," Salley said, "It'll make a good person do some stupid shit. Look at Jake, he was terrified of her to the point that I almost didn't recognize him. He was a sniveling little coward, and if that bitch did that to him in a few weeks, imagine what she might have done to Pam. She spent years serving that woman, didn't she?" "Yeah, but-" Beth began before Salley cut her off. "But nothing, kid, if that's the case then it's a wonder she managed to break away from her control at all," Salley took a breath before continuing, "Look, all we're saying is that maybe you're being too hard on her. When's the last time you actually sat down to talk with her?" "Talk is cheap," Beth grumbled as she took a swig of her glass, "Outside of sharing a couple of words when I come or go? The night I found those fucking socks." "I'm not gonna sit here and tell you what to do, Beth, we both know you're gonna do what you want," Salley said, "But it might be worth trying to sit down with her again. She's weird and spooky, but she cares about you and makes you happy. S'all anyone can really ask for in a relationship at the end of the day, kid." "Goddamnit," Beth groaned, "When the hell did you of all people start making sense?" "Comes with age, kiddo," Salley said with a grin. "It's just…" Beth began, "Every single time I think about it, all I can see is the shit Goth did last time. The collars, Jake getting beaten within an inch of his life, Alexis, and not to mention getting my fucking back broken! Knowing that Pam had a hand in giving that psycho her powers back just gets my blood boiling." "How is Jake, by the way?" Sam asked, tracing the rim of her glass, "I haven't heard from him since before the three of you left for Ravenfalls." "Don't know, don't care," Beth spat. "Oh," was all Sam could say. "Beth, don't be like that," Salley chided, "We've been keeping our ears to the ground and eyes open looking for info on Goth, and Sammie is just worried about her brother! Something you literally just said had you worried too!" "It's fine, Sal," Sam said. "Bullshit it's fine!" Salley yelled, "We've been busting our asses out here, reaching out to contacts and risking our hides, but we can't get a simple question answered! Beth, this might come as a shock to you, but since this bullshit with Goth happened a lot of us have changed. We aren't the only people trying to do something other than wreak havoc, and it ain't because we're scared of you killing us. It's because we saw what happened to you, Jake, and all the other villains and people in this city when someone of power took over. Sammie is scared for her brother, something that wouldn't have been a damn thing this time last year, and I'd think that you could at least do her the courtesy of pretending to give a shit!" "Sal, please," Sam pleaded. Beth glared at her aunt who met her gaze with equal fire. The relation between the two was obvious at times like this, and it always put Sam on edge. Salley was the closest thing she had to family outside of Jake, and she always got a little worried Beth would take that away from her. Finally, Beth looked away and sighed, "Sorry, Sam, I honestly haven't talked to him since all this shit with Goth happened." "It's alright," Sam said with a small smile, "I know you've got a lot on your plate, and I know he's been going out as The Raven off and on. I'm just worried she's gonna do something to him or make him do something to someone, ya know?" Beth nodded and finished her glass, "I know, and as angry as I am, I'm worried about the same thing. How many others out there have given up crime?" "Not sure," Salley answered, "I just know that the streets have been eerily quiet for our kind. Once word got out who we were asking about, things got even quieter. Doesn't help that you keep shooting some of our contacts either." "Fuck 'em," Beth said, "They should have gotten out of the game, or given me something I could use. The less criminals Goth can take control of, the less chance of shit going sideways, or at least it'll take longer." "Long as you don't put us down I guess," Salley said. "Just keep being useful and don't be a bitch," Beth lied. "Drop the tough girl act," Salley said with a grin, "We both know it's cause you ain't wanting to lose anyone else that's even remotely close to you." "Oh fuck off," Beth replied with a grin she hid behind her glass. Sam smiled at the two of them. Times like this she honestly wasn't sure who was more unstable. Beth had certainly gotten her temper and moods from her aunt, but it was nice when they got along. If only because she didn't have to worry about a stray bullet. "I heard something that might be of interest to you," she said to Beth. "This better not be another dead end, or another of your dumbass plans," Beth said. "My plans aren't dumb!" Sam argued. "Sammie, I love you kid, but how many times did you land us in the slammer?" Salley asked. "Who's side are you on here?!" Sam demanded with a huff. "What do you got, Sam?" Beth asked, trying to steer the conversation away from another argument. "Two days from now, there's gonna be a shipment of weird stuff arriving at pier forty-three," Sam said, "I say weird, cause the guy said it was a bunch of rocks and bottles and shit." "Okay, what's the big deal?" Beth asked, "Sounds like a shipment of shit for the museum or a store." "That's what I thought too," Sam said, "But then if that was the case, why would they be clearing the whole dock? No police, no coastguard, no customs, nothing! My guy said that they're recruiting people from different gangs with no affiliation between them to unload and secure the shipment. That's fishy already, but given the stuff they're unloading-" "You think Goth might need the materials," Beth finished, "I'll be damned, nice work Sam. I'll check into it to see what shakes loose. Guess even a broken clock is right twice a day." "Hey!" Sam said, "That's the thanks I get for getting you information?!" "I said good job, what more do you want?" Beth replied, "I'll get you a sticker or something next time we get together." Sam crossed her arms and looked away for a moment, but turned back to her and asked, "Could you...could you try to talk to Jake for me? Just tell him to call me, please." Beth nodded and set her empty glass down, "I'll try to pass it on, Sam, I promise," she said, "Listen, I want you both to try to lay low while I investigate this shit. If things go sideways or if Goth makes a move, I want you two working to protect people." "That's not exactly our M.O." Salley said, "We're more the self preservation type." Beth rolled her eyes, "Just fucking do it," she snapped, "I can't be in two places at once, and if something happens to me I need to know my city is safe. I'm not asking you to fight, I'm asking you to find a place to keep people safe. You said it yourself, Salley, things have changed since Goth took over." "We can do that," Sam answered. "Sammie, what the hell?!" Salley asked, "We ain't a charity." "If she'll put her beef with Jake aside long enough to get him to talk to me, then we can do this for her," Sam defended, "We got safehouses, and if the shit hits the fan then we'll all be in the same boat. I'd rather be rounding up civies than fighting on the front lines, and maybe we can find someone cute to mess around with!" "Goddamnit," Salley sighed before nodding and looking at Beth, "Alright, damnit, we'll see what we can do. You just be sure to bring that witch down this time. No more second chances, and for fuck's sake talk to your girlfriend. You're bitchier than usual when you're not getting laid." Beth's cheeks flushed as she stammered out, "I-I am not! How is my sex life any of your business anyway?!" "Yeah you are," Salley replied, "You wave that damn gun around a hell of a lot less when Pam is flicking your damn bean, and it's my business when you're threatening to shoot me." Beth turned away and grabbed her hood, "Fuck you," she spat. "She's trying to see if your girlfriend will do that for ya," Sam joined in. "I swear to God, I will shoot you both," Beth warned. "You know you're just proving my point, right?" Salley said with a grin, "Go crack some skulls, kid, but at least try to talk to Pam." Beth rolled her eyes as she donned her hood, and checked her equipment. "You two just stay out of trouble," she said, "I'll talk to Jake, Sam, but I'm not promising anything with Pam." The two bikers watched her hop down from the barstool and leave the dive bar. Sam looked at Salley and asked, "Think she'll do it?" Salley shrugged and replied, "Who knows, that girl is a wildcard. I think they'll eventually come around to each other, but it might take something major for it to happen. Come on, let's ride." "I hope she does," Sam said as she hopped up, "She's a lot friendlier when she's getting laid." "Don't say that too loud, or she might fire one off," Salley warned as she slid down and started walking towards the exit, "Come on, we better go start stocking up on supplies. I got a feeling it's only gonna be a matter of time before shit hits the fan." Pam sat with her back against the wall of her and Beth's living room. She looked like a mess. Her hair was frazzled, her makeup had run or been smeared, she hadn't showered in almost a week, and she wore a baggy t-shirt and black sweatpants in place of her usual attire. A melodramatic tune played in the background, Leonard Cohen's What Happens to the Heart, played on a loop that fit her current mood. She'd been in a bad place since Beth had discovered Rebecca's little present, and she simply couldn't bring herself to do anything productive. Meditation attempts were thwarted by feelings of regret and fear. Any attempts at distracting herself had quickly been undone, and what was worse was that anytime Beth came home she rarely had anything to say. Short, curt, and often one word answers were all she would get. Her beloved didn't even sleep in the same bed with her anymore, instead she often opted for the couch. The only contact she had with Beth these days came from indirectly tracking her through her collar. Part of her wanted to chase after her, but she was afraid it would only drive her further away. Worse still, she had begun contemplating Rebecca's offer to return to her side. It was a fleeting notion, but at least then she wouldn't be alone. She knew, however, that acting on those thoughts would be the final nail in her relationship with Beth. She had to remain where she was, painful though it may have been, if she were to have any chance at salvaging their time together. She swore that she would protect Beth, and she would do so even if the girl didn't want her around. A knock at the door drew her attention, but she struggled to find the will to get up and answer it. Another few raps at the door, and she finally grew sick of hearing it. She forced herself up, walked over to the door, and threw it open. "What?" she greeted. "Nice to see you too," Jake said, "Mind if I come in?" "If you must," she sighed before noticing his suit and asking, "Shouldn't you be out on patrol or whatever it is you do?" He walked in and she shut the door as he replied, "It's getting harder to find distractions since Beth has been out every damn night. Decided to try something different tonight, but that turned into a shit show real quick." "Do tell," she said, clearly uninterested in his story. "I went to a survivor's group," he said as he looked for a clean place to sit, "Thought it might do me some good to vent about how badly I fucked up, but turns out those people were looking for revenge. Like an idiot, I gave my real name and they turned on me." "They attacked you?" Pam asked, "I thought the whole point of those things was supporting one another, not killing newcomers." "Yeah, tell that to Meg Myers," he said. "The politician?" Pam asked. "The very same," he confirmed before sighing and sitting down on the floor, "Know what the worst part was? Listening to those people talk, everything Rebecca put them through, part of me feels like I should have let them kill me. I knew the collars were bad, but I had no idea the extent of the shit that was going on out here. Heh, Abigail would have been impressed." "Don't speak that harlot's name in my house," Pam snapped before taking a deep breath, "Sorry, I just still hate her for everything she did, and for stealing that damned book in the first place. If she hadn't done that, then maybe...maybe…" "Beth still not talking to you?" Jake asked, knowing where she was going when he heard her voice hitch. She shook her head, "No, she barely comes home anymore," she said, "I'm sorry, I've been a wreck since she found those damned socks that Rebecca brought me. She hates me." "She doesn't hate you," Jake said, "She'd have shot you if that were the case." "Not. Funny," she snapped. "Who said it was a joke?" he countered, "She has an itchy trigger finger, and it doesn't take much to set her off these days." Pam smiled longingly and agreed, "She does, one of the many things I love about her. A wild and nigh untameable little fireball, but one that I held in my arms for a while." "I know I'm not one to talk, but you two seriously have one of the strongest relationships I've ever seen," he said. "Is Rebecca still summoning you?" she snapped and added when he nodded, "Are you still going?" "I said I didn't have room to talk!" he snapped, "She's my responsibility, Pam, and if I don't go then who knows what she might end up doing? Do you really want a repeat of last time?" She sighed and shook her head, "You're too good for this world, Jake Blackridge. Stupid, yes, but you have a good heart and pure intentions. If those people at your meeting only knew how much Rebecca haunts you and I, then maybe they'd think twice about killing you." "Maybe," he said, "What did you do with her socks, anyway?" "If this is a question as to whether you can have them, the answer is yes," she started, "They're in the corner over there. I'd have burned them if not for that deathly stench they emit." "I was going to ask why you hadn't gotten rid of them, but thanks for assuming the worst about me," he said with a roll of his eyes. "Don't tell me you don't think about her and her feet nightly," she argued. "Do you?" he asked quietly. "Not in the same way as you," she replied, "As an initiate in her order, we were forced to serve her in whatever way she thought of. There was a time when I yearned to be at her feet, just like you, but that time came to an end when she humiliated Beth at the castle. I have little more than contempt for her now, but even still I can feel her influence still inside of me. Clawing at me, coaxing me into falling back in line beside and beneath her. I used to think it was because she saved me from a life of poverty and hustling, but now I question even that. If it were only that simple, then I would never have given in to her desire to restore her power. I would have destroyed that book, fought her the night she dared to darken my doorstep, and I would have destroyed that wretched bag." He watched as his friend went on, and felt his heart drop when she put her head in her hands. It was heartbreaking to see, but he knew all too well what she was feeling. "Guess we're two of a kind, huh?" he said, "I let myself get blinded by a belief that she actually wanted to help me, and I handed her everything she needed on a silver platter. Even now, hearing all those horror stories, I still can't shake the feeling that I need to serve her." Pam went to the kitchen and returned a moment later with a bottle of bourbon. She took a swig before handing it to him, "Never in my life have I met someone with such a brilliant ability to manipulate people. You feel it too, don't you? The hole inside of you the longer you're away from her. We think it will close with time, but it only seems to grow deeper and wider." He took the bottle and turned it up to get a mouthful and nodded, "Crazy isn't it? Knowing that someone is so bad, so cancerous, to everything she touches and still wanting to do her bidding. You know she started writing a new gospel? She's painted me as a sort of messiah for her religion, and she details the sacrifices I made in her fucking honor!" "Of course she did," Pam said as she took the bottle back and took another drink, "I'll bet she leaves out any mention of myself or Beth, doesn't she?" "You're mentioned as a sort of guardian light, but Beth is regarded as a heretic," he replied. "Black hells, even being left out of her scripture bothers me," she said, "What is wrong with us?" "We're addicted to her," Jake replied, "No other way around it. We crave everything she is and has, and damn the cost to our own lives." She was silent for a moment before quietly saying, "I don't want to be this way anymore. I had everything I could want, and I threw it all away for her own gain." "You know Beth hasn't given up on you, not entirely," Jake said. "I beg to differ, she would beg to differ," she replied. "I saw her the other night," he said, "I kept my distance because, well she might shoot me again, but I saw her on the ledge of a building. She still wears her collar, and I saw her playing with it. She would have gotten rid of it if she had given up on the two of you." Pam smiled slightly at the thought, "I miss her," she said, "If I could just get her to talk to me, then maybe we could try to fix this. I'm on her side, but the longer this goes on the more I find myself considering going back to Rebecca." "Don't," he said, "You do that, and she's won. We can't just let her win, not again. Listen, I got some intel off of some thugs tonight. Word is, Rebecca has been pulling some of her old strings and is gathering materials. Before you ask, I've got no idea what for, but I'm guessing it isn't good." "Has she mentioned anything to you when you see her?" Pam asked, growing slightly worried. "No, you know she prefers to keep me in the dark," he replied, "But whatever it is, it probably won't be good for anyone. Given that Beth has been cracking skulls, literally, looking for info I'm betting she'll be there. I'm also betting that Rebecca is counting on it, and she's probably going to try to ambush Beth." "When and where is it happening?" Pam asked. "Two days from now," he replied, "She won't like it, but Beth is probably going to need our help. It might also be your best chance to talk to her. Pier forty-three at midnight, that's where it's going down." "I'll be there," Pam said. "I'll see you there then," he said, "I'm gonna go see if I can get some more intel. Pam...just hang in there, and the three of us will get through this." "You really think so?" she asked, genuinely unsure. "We have to," he replied, "We owe it to ourselves, this city, and everyone who's nothing hurt to show that no matter what happens there will always be people to stand against evil. We're stronger together, and we can't give up on one another." "Your optimism is inspiring," she deadpanned but smiled, "You may be right, but right now we're divided. Let's hope that we can reunite and stay together this time." He got up and headed for the door, "We will," he said, "Deep down Beth knows that she can't fight this alone. She'll be pissed, but I'll make sure she knows this is my fault and not yours." "She won't believe that," she said, "She's hot headed, not stupid. She knows that I had a hand in all of this." "And she also knows that you want to fix it," Jake said, "If she can forgive me for all the dumb shit I've done, then she can forgive you for a lapse in judgement. Trust me, I've made worse mistakes than this throughout our friendship." "I hope you're right," she replied, "Go, I'll see you in a couple of days." Jake nodded and walked out the door. She stood in her home, alone again, and looked around. She would need to fix herself up if she were going to see Beth again. Silly as it felt, she wanted to try to impress the girl and maybe win her back. She walked down the hall as the song played its final verse before starting again. Sure it failed my little fire But it's bright the dying spark Go tell the young messiah What happens to the heart. |