A/N:Â Well. First angst piece, not sure how I feel about it. I was inspired to do this based on a request, and I just sorta ran along with the idea. Tell me what you guys think. Iâll get the requested headcanons up tomorrow.
Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. Jaime was being weird, and Scarab hadnât said a word in days. You didnât want to intrude on Jaimeâs thoughts, but with all the recent craziness, perhaps it wouldnât be a bad idea to check his mind.
No. That would be an inexcusable invasion of his privacy. Black Canary was still the teamâs therapist; sheâd know better than you. And she wouldnât be invading his mind to do so.
âI do not believe an audience with Black Canary will be necessary, Y/N.â
You jumped a bit and spun around. Green Beetle stood behind you, a rather poor imitation of a smile gracing his face. You nodded and made a noncommittal excuse, playing the part of the overly-worried girlfriend. You didnât trust Green Beetle. His psychic signature was different, as if there was a voice underneath his thoughts. Mâgann and Jâonn didnât have that, so it wasnât a Martian thing either. Jaime had talked to him; maybe he and Scarab had a better grasp of the new warrior.
The Reach Ambassadorâs voice echoed in his mind. âThe psychic has arranged a private meeting. How interesting. We shall most certainly attend.â
No. They had to stay away from you. Jaime couldnât let them get close to you, couldnât let them hurt you. But what could he do? His body was not his to control and you were adamant about respecting otherâs mental privacy. There was no way to warn you.
His body met you in the empty alley. The Ambassador forced a smile on his face and kissed you, puppeting Jaimeâs past actions.
âJaime,â you whispered, âis everything alright? Youâve been a little weird lately.â
Jaime would have given the world to scream, âNo! The Ambassadorâs possessed me!â but he could only watch as his body replied. âEverythingâs fine, Y/N. Just a bit stressed with whatâs happening, thatâs all.â
âStill, I think you should talk to Black Canary. It wouldnât hurt, right? Howâs Scarab doing? It hasnât said anything for a while.â
Jaimeâs body stiffened. Scarab finally spoke up, announcing Jaimeâs greatest fear. âIt seems the telepath knows.â
Ambassador was quick to respond. âEliminate all loose ends, Scarab.â
No. No! This couldnât be happening. They couldnât kill you. There had to be a way to stop them. A way to warn you. Anything. âScarab, you canât do this!â
âApologies, Jaime Reyes, but we must. We are on-mode.â
âThatâs right, Scarab. You are both faithful agents of the Reach. Donât worry, my boy. The first kills are always the hardest.â
Jaime watched helplessly as his body suddenly seized you by the throat and started squeezing. Your mental voice trickled into his mind, begging the questions you couldnât get past the vice on your neck.
âJaime? Jaime? Whatâs going on? Why are you doing this? I canât breathe--Jaime!â
Trapped within his own mind, Jaime screamed. He struggled and shouted, but all in vain. He felt you probe deeper into his mind, a desperate attempt to stop him as he squeezed the life out of you. You felt the intrusion in his mind; he saw your shock reflected in your eyes. You knew the Reach controlled him. He saw the shock fade into sorrow, then anger, then an all-consuming terror before they went blank.
Jaime looked down and saw the sword--his armored arm--buried in your chest. A little to the left, right where your heart was. How could this have happened? He should have done something--fought harder, struggled longer, anything! Anything to have kept you away from the alley--away from him. He was dangerous to you, and he should have kept you safe. But it was too late now. The shining star in his life had been extinguished.
You were gone. And with you, the knowledge that the Reach controlled Jaime. The knowledge that would alert the team and save the world. The knowledge that would prevent Impulseâs prophecy from coming true. And it was all his fault.