The Pain of Duality

Robin was quick to jump into the action. They couldn't quite follow what was attacking, just that they were being attacked. They flipped back from the invisible force, spilling the bags but they could worry about that later. Their eyes darted around the swaying room, trying to ignore how their chest spammed with the attempts to breathe easily, breathe deeply. They could worry about that later once the threat was neutralized. Speaking of the threat, was it the invisible force crashing in? Or was it the mummy that came crashing in to the poor building next? Blood coating the blades they used that crested out like the cape they wore. It was hard to tell, both seemed to not care about the destruction that was left in their wake. Outfit seamlessly switching between mummy wraps and black Kevlar. 

Robin had to do something, there were people here, whoever this was was ruining lives, destroying property. They had to save them, couldn't hesitate because hesitating led to death. They grabbed a rod from a broken shelf and jumped in, taking a best guess that whatever was invisible was the influencing factor. The force to be taken down. He tracked the noises, the blood, the shifting world and hunted them down. Each movement felt sluggish, sending aches through unstretched joints. But they could worry about that later. Pack it away for later. 

They joined the fight with practiced ease, even if everything was slightly warped, even if breathing was getting harder and the world throbbing with their racing heart. It's what they knew, what they were good at. A good little soldier. 

It was going well, until black blood covered their hands and splattered the ground. Until black and white gloves were pulling him back, shoving him against the cold metal wall with enough force to knock the wind out of him. “Who are you!” 

In a beat, the fist pulling back reflected of purple and Robin was sent free falling, forced out by whatever memory just popped up, one they were not allowed to know, to understand. Free falling back into the deep ocean, left floundering, drowning, desperate to get back, yet understanding they could not know. Could not understand. 

They hated the ocean, hated how vast it was, how unknown it was. Hated how cold it was, how all consuming, corrupting, painful it was. 

JJ let himself go limp, collapsing down to the hard ground. It hurt less when he didn't fight back, hurt less when he let daddy manipulate him then moving against the current. Hurt less when he was a perfect little doll, but he never really was good at that. Panic and preparation for pain made his eyes burn and a laugh come bubbling up with a harsh cough, forcing his lungs to spasm out the phlegm that caked to the inside of them. Daddy liked when he laughed though, and pain meant daddy was around. 

He knew it would hurt more, but he really wanted a hug right now. So he moved his own arms around himself, desperately trying to get that pressure that made everything feel a little bit better. Anything to help ground him so that he could protect them, even if it was selfish and pitiful. 

A flicker of swooshing fabric and it was no longer long wraps and black Kevlar, rather a pristine white suit standing above him, not purple and green. White. “Oh blimey, Jake really is a gormless bloke” Steven explained as he stepped back from the teen, wincing as he pulled his fist back and wiped his hands along the fabric of his suit. He wasn't exactly sure what exactly set Jake off, what screamed threat here. He usually sat far back during their night time escapades. He also wasn't exactly sure what made Jake switch out. But he was happy he did before they could actually hurt the teen. “Layla, love” he called over to his partner, unsure of what else to really do in the moment. 

JJ couldn't stop the broken laughs that slipped passed his cracked lips as he curled in on himself, preparing for the pain that usually came when he was awake. He brought his hands up over his head, trying to protect the important bits, just like he saw Robin do when they were in battle. He didn't want to fight, not really, but if he didn't obey then Daddy would pull out the big electric party machine again! He hated those parties! They hurt and no one ever laughed except daddy, not even mommy did! So they had to be bad! And only bad little boys got shoved in them because they were misbehaving, what if they also had one but it was bigger and scarier! 

He let out a choked sob between his hiccuped laughs, body shaking as he tried to curl up more, choking on the phlegm and snot, suffocating on the very air he tried to breath. He didn't want to see any blows coming, but it was his job to be here, to take it and catalogue the pain away. To hold onto the fear, the lost memories, the pain. It was his job! No one could take that away. 

“Hey, Hey it's ok, look at me?” 

JJ shifted a hand to cover his mouth instead, trying to muffle another broken laughter that was forcing it's way up and out, tearing through him. He knew people hated it, hated the familiarity, hated him. But he couldn't stop it or he felt like he was being tortured. He tried to hold back the laughs, he did! But it hurt, it hurt so much worse than when daddy was angry so he didn't do that any more. 

“what's your name?” 

“JJ” he forced out between his chapped scarred lips and his hand that desperately clung over it. 

“OK, thank you for telling me, can you look at me JJ?” 

He finally peeled his eyes open and looked up at where the scary man was, but in his place was a beautiful goddess, her curly hair cascading down in mesmerizing swirls, gold detailing reflecting the low lights around them. Quickly, JJ shifted to be closer to her radiant light, eyes scanning for the scary man before latching onto her leg. 

“Its ok” Layla placed a hand in JJ's hair, gently holding him as she tried to piece together what happened. “My name is Layla, how old are you sweety?” 

Layla layla layla, her name sparkled through his brain, bursts of gold and red like fireworks. The imagery pulled another laugh from his chest, this time muffled into her leg before he realized she was still speaking. “Layla Layla Layla” he sing songed out as he closed his eyes, focusing on the tingling display for just a moment longer. He wondered if actual fireworks were quite so pretty. Pretty, like bursts of blood from daddy's chest! Oh maybe that's what her name reminded him of!

“Yeah, JJ, that's my name. Now can you answer a few questions for me?” 

“Questions?” Because oh no, questions were bad, he never knew how to answer and when he answered wrong everyone else got mad! If he answered wrong then Daddy would hurt him and mommy would get sad! If he answered wrong then Bruce would get sad and he would get sent away from the warm place and when he was all alone, who would hold him when he cried or when he was crumbling? Who would fill the silence when he couldn't? 

“How old are you?” The pretty lady asked, Layla he reminded himself, Layla like summer time, Layla like fireworks, Layla Layla Layla! Oh wait, questions. Right. He could answer this one. 

“I'm 10, nice to meet you-” he squinted at her a moment, she looked older, Carrie was older too, And they were both so patient with him, so maybe they were like the same. They both made his chest all warm and fuzzy, both offered comfort when he was scared. So they had to be like the same! Where Harley was mommy, a name forced into him that still reminded him too much of daddy, even if she offered comforts. Carrie was like mom, so maybe Layla was like mom! But he had a mom already, maybe mum? The scary man sounded british, were they in England? He always wanted to travel. He could figure that out later, what was he saying? Oh yeah! His age! “nice to meet you twenty eight!” right, because Carrie was usually 28 when taking care of him, did her age change to? “twenty… twenty six?” he corrected, hoping if he guessed a little younger she would love him more. Maybe then she would let him stay! Oh maybe she would give him a big hug too! 

Layla laughed lightly after a moment of confusion, her laugh sending soft ripples through JJ that made him feel all warm and cozy. He wanted to hear more laughter that wasn't his own sharp mockery of daddy's. “I'm 30, sweetheart. But thanks for the confidence boost”. He wanted to make her laugh more! He needed to be surrounded by that sound. “Do you have a parent around? Or perhaps a friend?” Oh no nonono she wanted to return him to daddy! he couldn't go back, daddy was dead, but what if he came back again? He already did after he killed him. He could already feel the way his muscles tensed with electricity, his veins burning with foreign chemicals, his skin blistering with bleach, his body bruised and aching as his throat turned raw. But if he was bad, he deserved it. If he was bad maybe he needed to go back, to get reset. He knew questions were bad! He must have answered wrong! Why else would Layla be sending him back? Did she think he was defective too? Was it all the laughing? It made everyone else sad so maybe, but it hurt to keep bottled up. Was it because he guessed wrong? Should he have known her age already? That's not fair! His brain got all scrambled and he musta forgot! 

“Its ok if you don't, I just need to know how to help you” Layla offered as she ran a hand through his hair, cupping the back of it as she leaned down, careful not to dislodge the kid from her leg. She had seen the teen join the fight, and he moved in a way that screamed hero, but he wasn't that teen anymore. It gave her a terrible sense of dejavu from when she met Steven. She didn't want to jump to any conclusions though, after all dissociative identity disorder wasn't the most common of things. He could have gotten hit in the head, or maybe this was the trauma response of age regression instead. Or… or JJ was a little alter who her boyfriend spooked? Well, more likely Jake spooked before Steven took over. She had done plenty of research after figuring out about Marc, Steven, and Jake, but she did not want to jump to conclusions quite yet, not when she did not know a whole ton. Speaking of, she glanced up, spotting Steven on the building nearby, radiating his own anxieties as he fiddled with the sleeve of his three piece Mr. Knight suit. It looked like he was talking, probably to Jake and Marc, maybe Khonshu, but she would guess it was either Jake or her husband given the tension between the God and Steven. 

“JJ?” She glanced back down, having noticed how the laughs had quieted down just as the tears did. The distant stare really sealed it for her. She slowly shifted to crouch in front of them, their arms easily falling from her leg. She wasn't sure who it would be, or if they would appreciate clinging to her like JJ did. Probably not, but she also did not want to move too far. Thankfully they had wrapped up most of the actual fighting, so her attention could go to the vigilante and making sure they were safe before going to check on the others. Once they blinked rapidly a few times and looked around, she offered a gentle smile. “My name is Layla, the vigilante Scarlet Scarab. Are you injured anywhere?” 

“Im…” the vigilante looked around a bit before raising a hand to their face, presumably feeling the moisture all their crying had provided. “What?” they breathed out, and Layla held all the sympathy for them, but the moon knight system was much better equipped to help, assuming it was a similar case. Which maybe was a wild assumption, given the long list of other possibilities. 

“Is it OK if my friend comes to check you out? We didn't want to overwhelm you” it was a bit of a lie, which made her feel a roll of guilt. But it also seemed like the most logical step right now. They still had to make sure he was uninjured, that he was safe. 

“I guess… where's… sorry” the teen moved his hands up, pressing the heels of them to his eyes. She made a mental note to check for a concussion. 

“Can you tell me where you are at right now” she motioned for Moon Knight to come join her. 

“New York, getting medicine. Oh gee, Im being rude” a small sigh escaped them before it turned to coughing, harsh enough to shake their body. 

“Is there a name I can call you by?” Layla offered as Steven finally popped up next to her. 

They went back to rubbing the heels of their palms into their eyes, messaging Layla added, probably a headache, especially if they were sick already. 

“Sorry, love. My name is Carrie, I don't mean to be rude but we really need to get back home, the kids need rest” Carrie added as she looked around, wincing at the pain that came with the movement and how the world seemed to shift and move. “Oh drats…” a realization settled as she looked around the mess of the street for their bag. 

Steven joined her side and made the mask disappear. “My name is Steven, with a v. Hero name is Moon Night. Is it OK if I check you over for injuries?” 

Layla Stood back up, “I will leave you two to it, I should get started on cleaning up this mess” she would stay nearby, but wanted to give the idea of privacy at the very least. Besides, this was New York, the Avengers had an entire department dedicated to cleaning up after battles, and wasn't that an odd thought. As she stepped away, she focused on her connection to Taweret and whispered to her Goddess. “Please have Khonshu inform Steven-” 

‘ LAYLA OH GOODIE! I HAVE NOT HEARD FROM YOU IN SO LONG ‘ 

“It has not even been a day” Layla pointed out, a fond smile pulling on her lips. “Now, please have Khonshu inform Steven that the kid more than likely has DID, and is exhibiting signs of a headache, but it is unclear if that is due to injury or otherwise psychological. Steven will know more about it than me, so I will let him take over from there. Just feels like it may be important. 

‘ OH I SUPPOSE SO, NOW DON'T BE A STRANGER ‘ 

___

Carrie knew they shouldn't have left their hotel, and now here she was, surrounded by broken glass and blood, and honestly with how much pain she was in she couldn't tell if it was hers or not. The thought that it could have been theirs made her feel nauseous. That one of them got hurt, that JJ might have been hurt again and again. It might explain why she was the one fronting now. Or maybe it's because apparently she was the only one actually capable of taking care of themselves, that her family was atrocious with it, but she suppose that's why she existed. A person to care for them when they couldn't, when they were too young to take on that responsibility. 

The fever made it hard to focus, but she needed to get their wounds clean, to try to mitigate further infection. She heard the other hero trying to check her over, panicked hands dancing around in a motion that made her head throb and the world spin. 

She was being rude, she should pay better attention, but it was hard to focus on anything beyond getting some first aid supplies, some fluids, and taking care of them. “Do you have antibiotics?” she managed out, looking up at the blurry person. “Oh, that's probably not good” she mumbled to herself, swaying slightly from her spot on the ground. “I think… oh gosh, do you think you can help? Or maybe point us in the right direction?” 

Steven paused and crouched in front of her, “of course, Carrie. What do you need?” His eyes flicked to the other girl, Layla her brain sluggishly provided. 

“We uh… I think my wounds are terribly infected, and I've been doing a pretty drab job of taking care of them” she forced her eyes to focus on the duo again, wincing as her neck twinged painfully. “Im… worried about meningitis, or that i'm on my way to worse” she tried to clear her throat, wincing at the sharp pain. “I'm not from around here, no insurance for a hospital, but perhaps… as vigilantes you may know someone?” She wasn't sure if it was the infection, or the rapid switching, or the lack of self care, but exhaustion was settling quite well, and she was worried it would only be so long before she lost her grip and slid back, which means she needed to be direct, to the point, because none of the others were going to do anything about it. She needed to make sure they would be ok. 

“Oh uh, we aren't from around here, but I know a guy who might be able to help?” Steven offered as he looked back to Layla, hoping maybe she could offer some help here. 

“Infection? Let me see if the pharmacy has anything” Layla offered as she got up and headed into the destroyed building, cautious of the unstable walls and broken parts. 

“Thank you” Carrie looked down at herself, frowning at the blood stained jumper they wore. “Ah shoot… do either of you have a change of clothes?” JJ would be upset about the loss, he was weirdly attached to the stolen article of clothing. She could try to get it out, but honestly the chances were pretty low. Maybe she could pull the trick of replacing it? Finding one at the thrift store? She couldn't sense JJ anywhere near the front, so he may not even realize… assuming they could find a replacement though. They didn't even have their phone anymore to look online.  

Carrie forced her drifting eyes back up at the pair before trying to stand, taking it slow but the world still spun dangerously, making her almost fall if not for the two arms that caught her. “Gosh darn it” she grumbled, only to start coughing again. But having someone there to hold her, to pat her back and help dislodge the mucus, it was nice, in a way foreign to her. 

And oh gosh, they all really needed the help right now. And her limbs were just so heavy… 

___

Layla came back quickly, a bottle of antibiotics in hand that definitely were not stolen, not just destroyed in the attack. Definitely just destroyed, a nice write off. She paused as she looked up at Marc, who was practically holding Carrie with half dropped eye lids as she tried to catch her breath. “Love?” 

“Layla” He repeated, looking up at his wife, then down at the teen in his arms. “We cant just leave them on the doorstep of the Avengers” he pointed out, eyes flicking back up to Laylas. 

“I agree, but we also… what else are we to do? We don't know if they have family nearby missing them” she pointed out, slowly walking over before crouching in front of Carrie. “Carrie, are you still with us?” 

“Yeah” Carrie tried to focus again, eyebrows scrunching as she tried to focus, tried to place the duplicating images back into one. “We… fluids, medicine, food” she repeated, hoping they would understand it was a list of needs right now, all things she did not trust them to get done with how sick they were. With a raging infection and barely running water, no kitchen, no added care. 

And maybe, it was nice to just let go to another adult, to trust they would not be the same. But that was hard to do on a good day. She just needed to hope that maybe today would be a good day. Maybe just this once she could share the burden. 

“Fluids, food, medicine. Got it” Layla reached up, gently cupping the teens cheek, a point of contact easily seen, easily avoidable. “How would you feel coming back with us, just for the night so that we may check in on you? Just till we know that you are on the right track?” She offered, holding eye contact even as Carrie's eyes started to drift. 

“Ok… ok but… when we wake up it has to be you there” a vaguely flash of what Tim thought happened last time flirted through her foggy memory. Like watching a movie from outside through the glass. She couldn't put them through that panic again. “Say… say we are temporarily renting space from you?” That should work. Right? It was hard to think right now, so it would have to do. 

Layla glanced to marc, waiting for his nod of approval before speaking. “Of course, thank you for trusting us” she offered and got up, tucking the bottle of pills into her pocket. “Marc, love, can you stay with Frank tonight?” She asked, already knowing that her husband was probably thinking the same. At least until they got a lay of the land tomorrow and could figure out how to ease the potential system around both of them in an unfamiliar place. 

It wasnt the best solution, but it was a solution, and it meant once they were showered, filled up with easy to swallow food and water, and tucked in that Carrie could finally rest. Allowing the exhaustion that permeated them constantly to finally drag her down. With the mornings dose of antibiotics and pain medicine, a handwritten note, and a bottle of Gatorade on the bedside table, she allowed herself to cave to the exhaustion and fall asleep.