makingthisupasigo | And the stars look very different today...

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And the stars look very different today...

It was a way out. But it wasn't home.

Truthfully, after Norfinbury, anything would be better than that place, but the cold truth was--there was no way to find his own universe out of the endless multiverse, even if Norfinbury's busted technology had worked properly. He was stuck, here, with a megalomaniac Flynn--granted, a Flynn that managed to open up a portal out of there. Maybe that's what it took to get out of Norfinbury.

Or, Peter thought sometimes on bad days, Norfinbury only released you once you became the twisted version of yourself it wanted you to be. A specially-designed virus inflicted on countless worlds.

Besides, he ought to know something about that.

He didn't stay long on earth, he couldn't. Maybe it had something to do with the mystery of how they were revived in Norfinbury, their bodies recreated or cloned or healed, or maybe it was something that was gonna happen to him anyway, but he could feel the Light burning inside him, inside his head almost as soon as he landed. A desperate need to take to the stars. He'd managed to create a ship and took off.

Time passes, and scientists notice something odd about several exoplanets they're monitoring, especially ones marked as 'earth-like' or other planets in zones that could make them potentially habitable. Bright bursts of light and changes in the composition of the atmosphere or surface, it was inexplicable. Possible evidence of intelligent life? If they didn't know any better, especially with the rocky planets that now somehow boasted extreme changes, it was like something was terraforming them.

There was cause for alarm when Mars suddenly turned blue and green a few months later.

Meanwhile, a small blue-and-orange ship that looked suspiciously like a slightly more organic-looking Milano was racing towards the earth.

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That cold and horrible twisting in his stomach blooms into full-blown panic. He shakes his head, first almost imperceptibly, then he takes a step back, as if he's being attacked physically.

"No--no, no--" The horror's too much, he can scarcely stand it. "N-no--you can't--you can't do that!? WHY would you do that!? Why do you even care? We're nothin' to you, right? You're immortal, it's two seconds for you and I'm dead and gone and why would you even care what I've done to Jones!? Why does this matter!?"

Think, Stone, there has to be a way out of this because he cannot--cannot allow this to happen.

"Because I despise it."

Flynn's voice drops into a low, dangerous growl, eyes turning even colder than his smile. "You and Jones and your little play pretense. Your little 'frieeeendship'." Mocking air quotes. "Your stupid little games and nudging each other and protecting each other."

I despise what you two have. I despise that you gave up everything for your best friend while mine took everything from me.

"And I'm gonna show you that in the end it's all lies."

Peter is doing this to him. He doesn't care who sees him today, he just draws himself up in a corner and cries. Peter is really doing this to him.

"That in the end, it doesn't exist."

"Wh...wha..." It seemed so unbelievably, impossibly spiteful he can't believe it for a second. It takes him another second to find his voice again, and it's half-growl, half-incredulous.

"You'd destroy our lives because you're jealous!?"

His fear is almost abated by sheer anger, because really--

"This all seems just the tiniest bit pointless when you could just enter that thought into my head anyway? What gives? You're doin' it the 'slow way' around? Gonna make me believe that Jones is somehow against me, for real this time? Well, it won't work!" He knows he's probably going to pay for his defiance, but he doesn't care. He just doesn't care anymore what happens to himself. He can't let Flynn do this. "It does exist, just like good exists, the Library exists!"

"Shut up!" Stone's words make him so angry and--

--and he's yelling at Peter and he's so angry and he'll never yield to him, NEVER, because there is GOOD in the world and there is the Library and he'll never give in, he'll never stop caring, never--

He presses his knuckles to his temple. What is it with these annoying flashes lately?

"Oh, it will work. And in the end all of your pathetic little struggles and speeches and morals will have been for nothing!"

"Make me!" He knows just exactly how Flynn can make him, but right now, while he's got the will, he's going to make it count. Clearly it was getting to Flynn--

"I'm gonna fight, and I'm not gonna stop fightin' you. You know why it won't work? Cause good is real and I'm a Librarian! We're Librarians, and maybe you don't wanna be one anymore, but Jones and I still are, and you'll never, ever take that away from us!"

Flynn rises from the wingback, cold fury on his face and--

--Librarian, Librarian, Librarian, Librarian, he can't forget, he can't ever forget--

"Won't I?" He approaches, reaching out via the connection, because it's all there. "I can take whatever I want, Stone. I can take your memories of the Library if I want to. Of Jones. Of the goodness you oh-so-much believe in. I own you. I own everything that makes you you."

He's yanking harshly at the both connections, his thoughts and the tattoos, bringing him down to his knees. "See what a well-behaved boy you can be?"

His defiance falters, cracking and letting the fear through as Flynn threatens him, reminds him that he owns him, and Jacob grunts as he fights against the connections but it's too late, and he's yanked down, kneeling. He's shaking, he's so angry and afraid, so tired of being helpless, the cracks in his soul shattering further, his body not reacting to his own commands, he can't stand it any longer and he screams at him in frustration while he has the ability to, bellowing.

"Get the hell out of my head!"

Flynn lets him, allows him one last defiant uproar before he takes it away, rendering him mute.

"Don't get carried away, Stone. I haven't even started." He circles him slowly, looking down at him in contempt. "When I'm done with you? You won't even need me in your head anymore."

He can't talk. He tries and he can't--

When I'm done with you? You won't even need me in your head anymore.

The fear is very real and very visible on his face, the anger being swamped by it. No--no-no-no-no--this isn't happening. It can't get worse than this.

He can't be made to hurt Jones again. He won't let it happen.

Do you hear that, Flynn!? You aren't gonna win. You can't win.

Why DO you fight, Stone? Why do you think it's so worth it?

He's moving through his memories freely, pushing the good ones aside, sharpening the focus on the bad ones. The painful ones. The lonely ones.

What of this 'good' in the world did you ever actually get? Nobody wanting you the way you are. Always pretending, always alone. Poor little Jakey, all by himself. Making friends with pictures and buildings instead because there's just nobody there who wants him.

Because there are people worth fightin' for--

A gasp escapes him in reality as he nearly drowns in the pain, good memories fading strangely, the bad ones becoming stronger, larger--a deep loneliness fills him, and he can't stop it. Hiding from his dad and reading about Leonardo Da Vinci and Benjamin Franklin and Monet and Rembrandt and Yeats and Poe and Plato and Aristotle and hiding everything from everybody and he was just so alone--

Stop it! Get out of there! He tries to push Flynn away, tries to hang onto the fuzzy goodness--

Flynn ignores him, digging deeper, through the years, tearing the warm memories away.

There is no goodness. That's just what you're telling yourself because you can't stand that you don't have it. Look at yourself! Always hiding, always lying. All those names and aliases because you so desperately want to be someone else. Because there's just nothing good about being Jacob Stone, is there.

No, no, no--that's not...that's not true!

It's getting harder to hold on. It's getting harder to find the strength to fight back.

He feels so alone. So guilty for everything he's done.

What good is there about being Jacob Stone?

You're...lying. His inner voice is desperate. He's trying so hard to not let go of the good, the memories but they're being ripped away--

You know I'm not.

Flynn stops behind him, then squats down, his hand coming to rest on Jacob's back. A small gesture. A comforting gesture, for someone so utterly alone.

He smiles. He managed to do this to Peter without a pendant, nothing is going to stop him with it.

Always giving so much, but did anything ever come of it? What good is all that art and architecture and knowledge when all it brings you is pain? Why do you punish yourself so much? There's no need.

No...no it's not...tr...

Tears spring to his eyes. He can't stop it, stop the terrible drain of sadness and loneliness he's being drawn into. As if everything good is being snuffed out. He's trying to hold on but he can't, he's dragged away from the light--

--he looks up, blearily as Flynn places a comforting hand on his back. Something to hold onto in this ocean of darkness, a small buoey to keep him from drowning.

Help me...

He can't stand it.

What good is anything he's ever done?

Edited 2018-04-21 23:12 (UTC)

Flynn smiles. This is almost too easy.

He waits a little longer, waits for the loneliness and despair to fester deeply, then squeezes his shoulder, leaning in. Sending a small ripple of comfort through the connection.

It's gonna be okay.

I'll help you.

It's all loneliness, it's all despair. He doesn't know how to save himself, he can't remember the good times. All his failures, mistakes, regrets...screaming in his head, crowding around and filling up everything that had been ripped away. He failed everyone he ever cared about, and now Ezekiel was gone forever.

But did they care about him in the end anyway? Did anyone?

He was so alone.

And then suddenly, a light in the darkness. A strange sense of comfort, and Flynn's words of encouragement.

How are you going to help me?

Could he dare hope? Was Flynn able to save him from this...this ocean of pain?

I'll help you leave the pain behind. Leave it all behind.

There's the promise of moving forward, away from this cage of neverending solitude. That's what you want, right, Stone? That's why you're asking for help.

You'll make new memories. Better memories. You won't let the loneliness define you any longer.

It was hope. It was real, tangible hope.

It's like a lighthouse in the fog.

A key to the locked cage.

There's a part of him that's wary, this is Flynn, but who else is going to help him? They're all gone. He failed them. And Flynn's the one who's here, wanting to help him. Comforting him.

Please help me. I need a way out of this. Please.

I know. It'll be fine. I'll help you.

This next move is risky and he isn't particularly fond of it but he knows it will be worth it. Flynn focuses and then shows him some memories in return.

Of his former self, a long, a very long time ago. Before everything. Before the Library. Wide-eyed and friendly and sweet and--

--so very lonely and everything he knows is from books--

--and even the students at university call him a 'freak', not even here at the center of learning will he fit in--

He understands, Stone. He knows exactly what you're going through. And he made it out of that deep, lonely pit. And so can you.

You can be just like him.

I'll teach you how to leave the loneliness behind.

He was like him.

No matter what he did he was alone.

Jacob went to great lengths so that he could be accepted, so nobody would call him a freak, going to bars and parties and pretending he was nothing more than a regular guy--and he was still lonely. He couldn't just talk to anyone about medieval tapestries or Picasso or Yeats and he was so very, very alone. Even around people he was alone.

He needs to find a way out.

He needs to leave the loneliness behind.

Teach me. Please. I can't stand it anymore.

Flynn smiles. There we go.

You don't need them. You're better than them. They think you don't deserve them? They're wrong, they don't deserve YOU.

Come on.

He holds up his hand for Jacob to take.

...they didn't deserve him.

All the people he knew back home, his father--oh man, especially his father--he didn't need them. None of them deserved him. He's a genius and why did he have to hide it for so long?

...okay.

Jacob looks up at Flynn, his brows furrowed, and reaches to take his hand.

Edited (html pls) 2018-04-23 03:54 (UTC)

Flynn grabs the hand, pulling him up to his feet and lifts some of that sorrow away from him, just another flash of encouragement, of it getting better.

A successful first step.

You can do this, Stone.

I can do this.

The encouragement helps and he clings to it, desperately, as much as he's being helped by Flynn up at the moment.

A tentative smile flickers on his face and he clasps a hand on Flynn's shoulder.

Thanks, man.

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lonebrarian - 2018-04-23 17:21 (UTC) - Expand

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