#ghost mako

And a hint of fic because why not? (Usually, I write like a play script, but sometimes I go for prose as you’ll see here.)

There were two sensations that Elias Mako had gotten used to since his death, and they both had to do with his chains.

The things looked like Twizzlers hanging off of him, protruding from his veins and constantly pulling him back from his ambitions. That tug. That grinding, suffocating yank. That was one problem.

When Mako wasn’t amongst the living, the chains weren’t as hard to deal with, but that might’ve been because laying in his grave meant a purgatory of unending darkness.

He heard them constantly. The stray thoughts of everyone he’d ever bent the mind of. That was the other problem.

They weren’t present thoughts, no. They were the thoughts at the moment of capture, the second of eye contact…however long ago that might’ve been.

Mako sat by his headstone sipping the black coffee that Wilson had brought…on the doctor’s orders, of course...and he pondered these things. He had always been good at pondering.

Today, the thoughts were just a faint buzz. Most of it very kind to him. “Nothing to concern myself with.” He thought, staring up at the sky…

…and hating how blue it was.

It reminded him of failure. And Elias Mako hated failure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was one song Jackson Opus had utterly fallen in love with since his girlfriend made him listen to it. Misery Business, Paramore.

And even a visit back to the place where, some would argue, it all went wrong, couldn’t deter the young man from jamming the f**k out.

“Whoa, I never meant to brag, but I got him where I want him now, whoooa, it was never my intention to brag, to steal it all away from you now…” He tapped his feet proudly on the cobblestones.

Was this what it felt like to not have depression crushing you every waking moment? Maybe. Or maybe today was just a good day?

It took until the bridge for Jax to realize where he was, and a little longer to find out with whom.

“…”

Those chains.

They looked painful.

Jax wondered, for just a second, if there was a way to remove them…”NO!”

He’d said that out loud.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ah. Jackson.”

“It’s Jax. Everyone calls me that.”

“Well, I believe you and I both know that I’m not like everyone.”

At least he’d gotten more blunt after dying.

The Opus kid scoffed, “Remember our last fight? Wanna go for that again?” He could already feel the feathers itching just under his back, wanting to escape.

Mako held a hand to his temple as he floated upwards, just to add a little extra height. “I’m afraid I’ve got a nasty headache this time around…” He winced, clearly fake if you were the sort of person who watched for that sort of thing.

Jax didn’t flinch as his former mentor closed his eyes. In fact, he took the opportunity—

And when Mako lashed out with what he was certain would at least be a stunning blow, he was met with blinding light.

“Agh!”

“Sorry. Want me to close some of these?” Jax said flatly, despite no longer having a mouth on his face. The telepathy was definitely not fair, as far as Mako was concerned. Neither was the sheer number of eyes.

“I believe I can handle it.” The doctor snarled, and went for another sneak attack.

Nothing but lies. That was all that laid behind that demon’s fancy facade. And Jax…Angel Jax…knew it.

“COME AT ME!”