#swap!chase

You shift somewhere closer, following, camera to camera, as he runs. There's too much noise, but none of it matters, only the chase. You have to know what happens. You always have to know.

BA skids to a stop, sirens blaring, and changes his course. Still, you follow, watching through whatever cameras could be found. Where was he going?

You stop at a building, surrounded by police cars, and then you're inside. Shouting crackles through the shitty security cameras, hostages huddled crying in a corner, several people watching while the others loot the building.

BA sneaks in, going around the building, to reach the innocents. One, two, three guards down- he shushes the hostages and moves on. His gun rings out, maiming one, and the other two tackle him.

A bystanders drags one off, and BA takes care of the second, then everthing is quiet.

Faintly, you hear them talking.

"Who are you?"

"Bro Average! Visting for a bit, thought you needed help."

"Do you know where Jackieboy-man is?"

"Uhm, BA tenses, "not exactly. Anyways, I need to leave- I've got a dumbass to track down."

Áinle grumbles, annoyed, at the message ping.

"The fuck is this going to me for?"

Chase looks over his shoulder, shrugging, just as confused as the asker.

"Henrik! Some fuck wants an explanation."

Henrik- previously absorbed in the phone he stole from BA -looks up and glares.

"On what?"

Chase makes a vague gesture, answering before Áinle gets the chance, "Everything?"

"Ah. Fair enough then. I'm Henrik, any pronouns. Áinle, Chase- not you, mine- and I are from a different universe."

BA nods along, staring happily at Henrik, despite already knowing all this.

"Okay, I caught that, but, uh, how? Why?"

Chase laughs, threading his hand through his hair, and Áinle gives him a look of concern.

"Bastard stranded us here in the middle of a fight," he answered.

"Marvin had the upper hand, it was a jusified retreat!"

Henrik crosses vaer arms, and BA pats her shoulder.

"Oh fuck, Marvin!"

Chase groans, inturrupting the developing argument.

"Oh, right!" BA whacks his forehead, finishing his counterpart's thought, half directing it at Henrik, "This Marvin ran off, Jackie's corrupt, and nobody has a fucking clue where the other three are off to."

He yelps, a newspaper hitting his face as he finishes the exclamation. Hen looks from him to Áinle, who has inched away from the fallen newspaper. Henrik picks it up again.

"Are you two incapable of staying out of trouble?"

"Upstairs moping with, uh, other Chase. And, he's going by Áinle right now."

Hen hums in acknowledgement, looking around curiously. The century was close to their own, so that was a relief. Having its friends stuck in feudal times would've been disastrous.

"That nemisis of yours is causing too many problems for us to keep up with, Chase."

"Oh-" he winced, scratching his neck "-shit. Right. Sorry, its a mess over here, the bitch witch kinda slipped my mind."

She shrugs, back to mumbling to herself, but only for a moment.

"...what the fuck?"

"Chase, I presume?"

Hen looked over the stranger, frozen at the stairs, and then over to his Chase. This might get confusing.

"Uh- yeah. Yeah, that's. That's me."

Hen's Chase (what an odd thought, for Chase to be theirs- but it was nice, somehow) laughed nervously, looking between the two. There was too much tension, and quite clearly, none of them knew how to fix that.

"So the fucker came back for us!"

Áinle poked his head in, then came down the stairs as Hen replied.

"I wasn't about to leave you idiots stranded."

"Uh-huh, sure thing, universe boy. Chase, you good?"

Áinle stopped by them, shaking their shoulder.

"Nope."

 (manhandled and held at gunpoint! a fun, fun duo) 

characters featured: swap!chase and jackieboy man

tw’s: guns, rough handling, abuse of character...and character death. gore. 

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The cold night air steams against the various wounds seared against the lithe figure’s tan skin, strained breathing forming wispy clouds of snow white. Shredded scarlet and gray frames torn skin, trails of crimson painting a rather ugly canvas of purple and blue bruising. 

Jackie’s lips are stained with blood as he coughs, choking on his own life force as the black Converse on his chest digs in further. 

“Chase-” 

A gun clicks as the man above him points it squarely between the hero’s eyes, teeth bared in a rather strange fashion- almost calmly, yet rage-filled. 

“Don’t call me that, hero.” 

He raises the sole of his shoe, crushing it down against Jackie’s chest- resulting in the man gasping brokenly as blood sprays. Jackie’s left coughing, choking on the very air he was breathing, as his eyes track across bloodied snow to the figure bleeding out inches away. 

They are!

----

“Going to another party, Hen?” Chase is lounging against the chair, sipping on vitamin water. “Sure are popular, hmm?”

“Of course,” Henrik says with a cheery grin. He’s throwing on his jacket and heading toward the front door. “I have to keep up my reputation. As a great doctor, you know.”

Chase rolls his eyes. “I was hoping you’d actually stay home. I was going to the theater tonight, and someone needs to babysit Jackie before he sneaks off again.”

“Ah.” Henrik snickers. “Just have Marvin watch him. I cannot miss this dinner, it’s very important for my career.” He puffs out his chest. “You know how much I love to interact with my colleagues. I cannot let them down.

Chase leans forward, changing his Netflix to another musical. “Good luck getting him out of his room. I don’t think he’s come out for a couple days. And yeah, you’re annoying, we know.”

“Ahh.” Henrik lifts a finger. “At least I do not sing and dance constantly. Perhaps you would’ve been better off in another career. One far less annoying.” He winks before opening the front door.

“Yeah, right.” Chase laughs loudly. “I live for the arts. I live and breathe musical theater. What else is there?”

“I do not know,” Henrik says with a shrug. “Do not wait up for me, I’ll be back later tonight. Do not make a mess of the house, please.”

Chase pushed the door of Henrik’s office open, watching as the doctor lifted his head in surprise from where he was writing at his desk. Shock registered in his eyes and he wheeled back, his eyes darting to the door. For a moment, neither of them said anything.

“Hey, doc,” Chase said brightly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he kicked at a box near the door. “Have a second?”

“Chase, you should not--”

“Oh please. Please!” Chase’s head twitched to the side in irritation and his voice spiked. “Cut that shit, doc. Just cut it out, will you? I’m not here to kill you. Shit, I’m not even here to hurt you.”

Henrik nodded slowly, eyes still wide in fear. He obviously wanted to go for the gun in his drawer, but he didn’t dare move.

Chase sighed, walking up to the opposite side of Henrik’s desk and leaning on it. “I know what you all have been up to,” he purred, his eyes flashing. He looked horrible: his hair was greasy and unbrushed, he stank of alcohol, and his clothes were obviously dirty. His eyes were wild and devoid of sleep. His smile was so familiar, but so twisted now. 

Henrik swallowed hard. “I have not been up to anysing.”

“What did I just fuckin’ say, huh?” Chase snapped, slamming his fist on the desk and making the doctor jump. “Cut the bullshit! Give it to me straight. Give me all the, all the juicy details about what my friends have been up to. I’d love to know, especially since all this shit is your fault.”

“I did not make you a murderer,” Henrik said, trying to conceal the tremor in his voice.

“Oh, you didn’t? You didn’t make me this way?” Chase spread his arms, his eyes widening. “It’s me, Henrik! It’s your little guinea pig. What, you think I don’t remember all your treatments and therapy and medicine and shit? I was broken to you. I was just a broken thing you could poke until you were done with me. Look at me now! Am I done yet? Are you done fixing me yet?!”

“I vhas trying to help you,” Henrik persisted, his expression turning cold. “Vhat do you vhant me to say? Zhat you are stable? Zhat you never needed anyone but yourself? Because you are not, and you didn’t. You have always been sick, since the beginning. Since I met you. You first came to my office, you vhere high on meds. I gave you your life back.”

“You threw it away!” Chase roared, his eyes flaming as he grabbed a stapler from Henrik’s desk and threw it against the wall. It dented the drywall, sending a nearby stack of paper fluttering down. “You fucked up everything in my life, you piece of shit. But maybe I should thank you, huh? I finally did it. I snapped. And to be honest, I feel fucking great.”

A sob stung Henrik’s throat as he looked at the shuddering man in front of him, eyes wild with insanity. His friend. “Chase...” he whispered.

“You made me, Henrik. You made this monster.”

It was a method of focusing, of organizing your thoughts. It helped, to hear it out loud, to put it into shapes that made sense. He wasn’t crazy.

“I wish I could just, just turn it off,” he was mumbling to himself as he cracked the seal of another Whiskey bottle, taking a long swig. It burned in his gums. “God, I hate it, you know? I fucking hate it.”

Yes, this is helping.

“I was too fast, I couldn’t make it last, I couldn’t make it slow,” he continued, every word a soft, drunken drawl as spit leaked from the corner of his mouth. “I had to fucking ruin it.”

Get it out, Chase. You’ll feel better.

“When it was Stacy it was easier, you know? That bitch. I made her, I made her cry like a damn coward. I need that. I need that, I fuckin’...” 

Another long swig of alcohol.

That cow deserved it. So did those two squealing parasites.

“No,” Chase murmured, sniffing back the snot dripping from his nose as he leaned back on his bedpost, gulping down as much whiskey as he could before the burning in his throat was unbearable. “No, no... it was too quick for them. Why was it so quick? The look in their eyes, I thought maybe I’d like it like I did with Stacy but...”

You were weak, Chase. You won’t be weak again.

The several bottles of drink boiled in Chase’s stomach and he hiccuped, turning quickly to the side to hurl on the carpet. A car passed closely by his apartment, briefly breaking the ambient silence.