forum •Apotheosis of Abnormality• [one/one]

Started July 27, 2022 by @Dayzed local_movies

tune

The rumbling made even the Abnormalities pause, creatures lifting heads and ears in anticipation as Apotheosis arrived to the scene.
It didn’t curb their anger, nor the ferocity in which they attacked, however, seeming only to fuel the rage boiling behind mythical and magical eyes. Many of them had been waiting for this moment. Even if it got them killed, they needed humanity to hurt as they had.
Anais jumped to cover Marx as even more gunfire from Rae rained over them. The bullets sunk into her strange body, the demoness choking out a cry as thick ichor dripped from the new wounds.
She turned her head to glare at the newcomers, letting out a garbled growl that splattered the grass with black acid.
Her eyes locked onto Rae, the strong emotions intriguing her immediately.
It was then, while Anais was distracted, did Marx make his move. His heads yowled in a cacophony of anger and excitement as he pounced towards Aristide.
Teeth bared, Marx swiped at the man, opening a mouth that refused to spew flames as he wished it to. The anger in his mind made his claws swing with more ferocity.

---

The witch's mind was reeling. His lips tingled and his entire soul and body felt like he had burned them to crisps and the panic in his gut made him feel like he was going to throw up.
The sounds and sights around him were dizzying, so much so that he had almost welcomed Jake forcing his gaze back to him. The tears that met his gaze instead only made the dread in his stomach grow.
The reaction tore Marcus, his anger and despair dulling into an uncomfortable digging pit in his chest for just a moment. He didn’t look away even after Jake let his face go, something like shock and awe and horror written across his expression.
He let Jake cry, let the salt from both of their eyes sting his bruised and battered skin, let everything else fade for a moment while he processed the shock and confusion Jake seemed to be in. It only confirmed Marcus’s suspicions that maybe the trust had only gone one way; that Marcus was still an idiot for believing anything otherwise. He had done that once before, and now he was stuck with Marx.
The witch seemed to sober up immediately with this realization, a shock of cold fear running down his spine. He eyed Jake wearily as the other wiped his face, the witch subconsciously gripping his lighter a little tighter. It shouldn’t have hurt as badly as it did, the way that the fear and weariness dove to smother the intense feelings burning in his chest.
Marcus tensed in anticipation as Jake started, something deflating behind his eyes. His gaze followed Jake’s to where Marx was stupidly facing Aristide head-on, his chest heaving with a strange, terrified sob.
“I can’t… he won’t…” Marcus’s words died on his tongue. How was he supposed to explain to Jake how much more he would have preferred to have burned himself out of existence than return? But the air between the words was heavy with an emotion he knew all too well. Wynn had often expressed it, though his had felt more… platonic.
As confusing as it was to believe, Jake wanted Marcus alive for whatever reason. Whether he truly wanted him alive, or just so he could enjoy the hunt a little more, Jake wanted him to survive tonight.
Before he could really even process the severity of that, a body collided with his own. It took him far too long to realize what had happened, his heart racing at the near-death experience.
Oh yeah… They were still on a battlefield.

The acrid, rotten smell of flesh melting made Marcus’s hair stand on end. The buzz of magic all around was starting to grow too intense, threatening to relight the ticking time bomb his magic had just been, panic settling over his bones as he glared through the confusion at Blake. The ghoul she had killed still put off an unnerving amount of magic Frequency, the Abnormal nature of the bones themselves refusing to give up the little energy they still held. Marcus recognized it subtly and it made his stomach drop. He didn’t know who it was, but their loss still hurt.
No time to mourn… He could do that later.
Blake’s appearance was enough to make his blood run cold. He vaguely recognized her picture from when Anais had pulled her up and remembered the stories he had heard. He flicked his lighter on, the flame curling around his hand in ready. The runes Jake had cut into flickered once, then immediately sparked into nothing, his arm trembling from the effort. They were useless, but he had others he could rely on.
“I’m not being used.” Marcus spat, directing his anger to the adrenaline in his veins. When Jake spoke to him, his gut reaction was to listen. He wanted to turn tail so badly and just run until he disappeared into some far-off forest never to be heard from again. He’d make a nice folk tale. The Burning Man or some stupid shit like that. But Marcus couldn’t just set his pride down right away and run off. Not when he wanted so badly to make every single one of A.C.E.’s soldiers hurt.
Jake’s next words cut through him like a hot knife. He bristled, knowing for a fact Jake was trying to get a rise out of him. But when he risked a glance around at the battle, he realized with a jolt that Jake was right. Even with the extra Abnormal power, they were going to end up overtaken if more of A.C.E. showed up. This was only supposed to have started the war, not finish it right off the bat.
“Fine… but I’m gutting you next time for letting me live.” He growled, tracing a row of runes along his knuckles, their lines blurred as he did, but the spell was of Camilla’s making, which meant it would hold strong once it was activated. The runes lit up a strange purple, nearly overwhelmingly bright before a trail of purple fire was launched into the sky like a flare.
The light seemed to change the mood entirely, the Abnormalities who noticed it immediately let out strange sounds and calls before abandoning their fights. Marcus only watched one Abnormality, the lion head of Marx lifting to watch the purple flare before it followed the trail back down to the witch. Panic filled his chest as they made eye contact, but Marcus held it steadily, not risking the lives of everyone around just because Marx thought him a coward.
Understanding seemed to flash across the chimera’s face. Marx snarled before he lifted his head to shout something Marcus couldn’t understand at this distance. It all sounded like a garbled cry to him.
“Fuckass boyfriend notified.” He spat to Jake, his stance widening slightly in preparation to run.

Rae's gaze, for just a moment, caught onto Anais' stare- pain reflected behind them as she had no choice but to fire. She hadn't known Anais personally, only heard the name mentioned here and there by Blake who, curiously, never called the experiments by their assigned number- which all Abnormalities in her department had.
Anais put up a hard fight today… they put her in isolation again. She could practically hear Blake's monotone voice echoing in her head from those days. They can't control Lethe anymore. They've decided to transfer them to Theosophus.

Theosophus.

Not a lot of people knew about the place, it was a guarded secret that only those who had direct ties to A.C.E. knew- specifically, the Nexus department. Even then, information was limited and most would soon rather choose suicide than utter a word about the city. Pandora's Box, is what it had been called multiple times, and that was enough of an answer for anyone. Only those crazy enough and curious enough would risk seeking out that place and opening that door.

A strained expression painted Rae's face as she tried her hardest to target the Abnormalities against Aristide, however, at this angle, it was hard since he was nearly blocking Marx- his attention never straying from the chimera so as not to miss an attack from the other. That focus though, was broken when Rae shot at Anais, alarm crossing Aristide's face for only a moment before Marx's clawed paw came down on him. It only took a second- maybe even half a second of distraction for the damage to be done.

They always told you to pay attention to your surroundings, but it was nearly impossible when you were one man against many- even with all the supposed advantages.

Aristide stumbled back with Marx's advances, thick crimson blood almost immediately trailing down his face and falling from his chin once he had regained his footing- the rest making its way down his neck. He seemed almost… stunned. Like he hadn't known quite what had happened- or perhaps he did know, the red that coated his vision on the left being very telling in contrast to the clearness on his right. Twenty-two years of fighting this wretched war. Twenty-two years of pushing himself to the limits to train and be prepared for anything thrown at him- of climbing the ranks to be unmatched. Twenty-two years. And one moment, arguably not even enough of one, had marked him with his first major wound. He had gotten hurt before, it was impossible not to in this line of work- but to this extent?

He could feel the warmness of his blood continue to trickle down his face.

Because his attention had been caught by the gunfire going off in his direction, a spike of panic going off internally, he had shifted just enough to make out Rae's figure in the corner of his eye. In return, however, the claws from Marx that had managed to hit cut deeply across his face. One of the large split wounds started at the top of his left eyebrow, just barely cutting the beginning of the eyebrow itself before it unevenly made its way down his cheek, ultimately stopping at his jawline. The second and third on the left side of his face started just below his eyes, one of them centered just below his tear duct and the other beginning at his cheekbone- splitting the top half of his lip as it ended.

There were four in total, and the final one was on the right side of his face, nearly overlapping the one that had cut down over his nose. That one ended below his ear, Marx's claws almost shifting closed as he had struck Aristide- causing the overlap of both wounds.

The moment Marx had struck Aristide, a shot from above targeted Marx's body, a series of recurrent snipes separating Aristide from Marx as a purple glow dressed the battlefield. The shots from above effectively made a boundary, that if crossed, getting hit would be inevitable. It gave time for Aristide to recover which had only taken a second before he was violently reloading his gun again, hellbent on taking Marx right here, right now.

Somewhere from up above Jen looked over at Vincent wearily as both of them formed a team to shoot down Marx, Vincent's expression nothing short of serious and focused as he stared into the scope of his gun. Still, the slight shake in his hands was new- Jen had never seen Vincent so thrown off before. Vincent on the other hand was still reeling with the fact that later, he would have to give everyone the news of what had happened to Ezekiel. He knew Ezekiel and Otmar had been close, but telling Apotheosis that one of their friends- hell, family member, had died-….?

It made his stomach sick and his mind was not where it needed to be as he aided the others below on the battlefield.

Jen didn't speak- neither of them did as both watched the other snipers around the forest pick off the Abnormalities one by one. This was more than an unfair fight- it was starting to look like a slaughterhouse.

---

Marcus would have been right in assuming that Jake didn't trust him. Not entirely at least. And not yet. Truth was, he was wary of everyone who wasn't Apotheosis, including his own family- especially his own family. Even Vincent and Otmar at times, who, arguably, were considered the better parents.

Still, that nonexistent trust, was slowly fading, a single brick placed at the bottom of the to-be foundation of said trust with this shared moment. That would make two bricks, and while it wasn't a lot, it was still more than what he had with almost anyone else. Odd how someone trying to kill him, only drew him closer to them.

He won't let me. Jake finished Marcus' sentence in his head for him. Won't let me. As if there was no freedom there, as if, he was trapped- even if he wanted to leave. The terrified sob- it cracked his heart. And he felt the pain as clearly as he would an intense physical wound on his body.

There was a weirdly shaped piece that didn't fit Jake at all but that still resided in his heart, and that piece was the need to lend a helping hand- no matter the cost. For Astrid. He told himself as he did atrocities to others. And then, for Apotheosis, as he tortured people who he knew were innocent.
Again.
For the Abnormalities, his mind echoed as he broke his trust with those around him on a whim.
Again.
For those who hurt, his mind would hiss as he put himself in harm's way just for the chance no one would have to feel like he did.
And now again.
For Marcus.

It was a never-ending cycle of sacrifice, of offering himself up- it also happened to be the only thing he knew how to do best even if he ruined everything. Maybe it was one of the "better" qualities he thought himself to have, and so, he abused it, otherwise, he knew he would walk down the same path as Blake, who, a while ago, had lost her mind.

And yet. He had to actively ignore the way Marcus gripped his lighter tighter, and how his expression had gone from shocked to on guard in less than a split second. That was a disaster waiting to happen again, but Jake took his chances- if a bit on guard and hesitant to allow himself close to the witch anymore. From his experience, witches were turning out to be more lethal than he had made them out to be- Blake and Marcus' presence throwing his nervous system into full throttle at this point despite his composure.

Jake shifted ever so slightly when Marcus pulled the flame from his lighter and held it in his hand, still eyeing him warily from the corner of his eyes.
Just like at the gas station… Was all his mind could process. As if Marcus couldn't just kill him right then and there- like he couldn't have back then either. He hadn't though, and that stark realization hit him a little too late, like a truck that weighed a ton.

At Marcus' threat, however, a sadistic grin split on Jake's face, looking more shaky and anxious than cocky in any way.

"I'll be waiting for you then, Fraisier Cake" His voice took on a slight tilt at the end as he pushed his luck and risked a dangerous taunt. He really shouldn't have been teasing Marcus anymore, not in this situation at least, but Jake didn't know anything else- hadn't ever been taught how to interact with others. Everything he knew, he knew because he had taught himself. Perhaps poorly, but it was all he had. He was all he had.

The purple glow as the flare-like magic shot up into the air drew the attention of not only the Abnormalities but of the A.C.E. soldiers as well.
And as Marcus faced the chimera who howled incoherently at the warning, Jake's chest filled again with that strange… hurt. It was unlike anything he had ever felt, and subconsciously, his body longed for the type of torture that felt right. A physical type of torture, not… this.
But his wish would come true once this was all over. And like most things, he would regret it. Still. It never stopped him from running his mind in circles.

Marcus wouldn't have known it, not until much much later, but the words that had come out of Jake's mouth next, while cruel, had doubled to soothe whatever emotion he was feeling. To shove that pain down.
"Have fun" He bit back, as Marcus' desperate trembling voice from before, explaining how he had rather have died there, than return, echoed in his head.

…

Have fun.

Regret, hurt, a paralyzing emotion that didn't allow him to breathe, a turning sickness in his stomach, an overwhelming sadness, and the damage to his mind peaked as he slowly processed what it was exactly that he had said- meant.

Have fun getting tortured by your boyfriend.
Have fun being scared.
Have fun living against your will.

Had he meant it that way? Maybe. Maybe some part of him, the dark part of him, was lashing out for his shortcomings. But words couldn't be taken back and the next time they met, if Marcus was still so inclined to outside of a battlefield, they would have another dance to the death with fire and knives readied.

Amusing, how, not even a second later of saying that, Jake unlatched the gun from its holster, multiple shots firing towards Blake whose eyes widened, not expecting the premature attack as Marcus escaped behind him.

Protect? Hurt?
Both?
Jake didn't know anymore. What was he fighting for again?

Blake's movements to dodge the bullets would have almost been too late. Her immediate reaction to step forward, even with the spitting image of Jake's father's anger- to chase Marcus down and capture him. But Jake had stood up, and now, with the same knife in hand and lethal expression he had used to hurt Marcus, he wielded it against Blake. His terrifying speed making even Blake brace herself.

Anais knew the moment her eyes met Rae’s that they were fucked.

Warnings often left Anais, the demon wasn’t bound to usual human morals and laws. She could do as she liked whenever she liked and often would dodge the consequences of it. But there was one warning she always heeded, as it always tended to be true.

”Don’t trust the empathy behind the gun.” Wynn had told her on her third mission. She was fresh out of the A.C.E. laboratories, still scrawny and far from alright. ”If they shoot with pain in their eyes they’re doing nothing more than putting a sick dog down. They won’t care in two months.”

Ever since that interaction, while her brain was still riddled with experimental chemicals and trauma’s she could hardly make sense of, Anais had yet to see that advice be untrue.

If these people thought them no better than rabid dogs, then she was going to be one.

-

Marx cackled as his claws caught flesh, three sets of teeth gnashing in crooked smiles. Even as the gunfire caused him to back away and purple fire filtered across the battlefield, Marx grinned. He watched once the retreat had been called as his small army vanished into the woods or were shot down, a twisted amusement rumbling in his chest.

“A reminder, Aristide,” Hissed the snake head between his shoulders, its eyes glinting while his enemy reloaded. “To watch your dogs. Information is crucial, you can’t be giving it to just anyone.” Had the gunfire not been so heavy, had Marcus’s steely, determined gaze not convince him of the urgency, Marx would have left more lasting wounds if only to add insult.

Instead, the large beast turned to bound across the field, large jaws picking up the fallen without care.

His demonic bullet-shield bounded after him, her body convulsing as she sputtered out blood and bullets. The wounds across her side closed with each expulsion, vanishing into a constellation of scarred dots.

---

Trust was a word Marcus had a strange relationship with. All he had ever been told to do was trust. Trust Marx on their first date, trust Wynn the first time he’d been shot, trust the dark would make him obedient, trust that the highly unstable Abnormality hunter wouldn’t turn on him, trust everyone who said that what Marcus was doing was dangerous.

Trust that the only thing he’d ever be good for was dying.

That last one never seemed to have stuck. He couldn’t even die right. Not even now, as Jake’s taunt settled deep into his skin and set his eyes alight with fire deep from his soul. The edges of his being charred, damaged by one too many ignitions, but didn’t flicker out. The fire only fueled the life within him, lit it up past the point of no return.

“There won’t be a Fraisier to wait for.” He spat back, channeling his frustrations into the flame he wielded. It flickered in time with his heartbeat, twisting and twirling alongside the fury in his head.

”Have fun.”

The flame burned blue, erupting into a fiery wall between Jake and Marcus. The witch glared bitterly at Jake through the flames, a snarl carved into his face.

“I hope their death haunts you for the rest of your life.” Marcus spat in return, clutching his useless and bleeding arm as he turned to run towards the safety of the tree line.

Bullets spattered the ground as he ran. Fire, blood, and artillery blended into one painful and jarring mass of sound and pain. His limbs were heavy, every footstep a chore.

He could die right here. Stop running for just long enough a stray bullet would strike true. The pain would end, he’d fade away into obscurity. Just another witch burned at the stake with no name and no face. It wouldn’t be his fault entirely.

“What the fuck are you doing?! Get over here!” Screeched a familiar voice. Had it been calling him this whole time? Marcus turned his head, squinting at the blurry form. Scales and tattered fins… Wynn. Comfort. Friend.

Marcus stumbled towards it, taking the hand that was being offered him. It yanked him forwards again, momentarily breaking him away from the dissociation. He glanced up at the one tugging him, cold icy fear running through his veins.

Wynn’s face was covered in blood. Whether it was his own or some random soldier’s was lost to Marcus because it framed the deep cavern where Wynn’s frills used to be. The entirety of the left side of his frills was gouged out, like someone had taken a butchers knife to it.

“Oh shit! Wynn-!”

“Shut the fuck up and run you fucker!” Wynn snarled, pulling them towards the white van Marcus recognized immediately. The deep ache in his chest grew heavier.

Seeing the van now only made him wish Jake had just killed him.

The ride back had been dead quiet. No one had made a move to bring up the topic of the scene that had unfolded at the execution site. But there was a collective question everyone had in their heads. What the hell had just happened?

Blake sat by the truck's small window that was used to talk to the two front passengers, holding the decapitated ghoul's head in her lap. She stared straight at Jake, who sat in front of her. He seemed completely gone at this point, a nine-yard stare laced with a terrified look on his face that showed only those who knew they were heading for slaughter. He seemed to be coming apart at the seams with the added news of Ezekiel's death, his eyes watery - yet, despite it all, still seemed to do a damn good job of keeping it all together somehow. Blake knew it was his fault, and Jake did too, a heavy guilt written all over his person.

Jen, who was by the truck's doors, was also mentally not there, completely spaced out.
Usually, he was someone who was full of emotion, open when it came to grief. But now, he had done a jarring one-eighty and shut down. The only thing that indicated any sort of emotion he was going through was the way he held his sniper rifle.
With a death grip.

Niveus, nearly reflecting Blake's expression- neutral and calm, held Rae in his arms. She was fast asleep, her eyelashes wet from breaking down after the confirmation of Ezekiel's death. She hadn't been able to stop her hysteric crying to the point where it had been impossible to get her to move away from the ruined remains of the charred truck where Ezekiel had been. Blake had shot her with a dose of a tranquilizing drug.

Aaron, Andre, and Casimir had stayed behind at the site. Aaron and Casimir with the biohazard clean-up crew, since Aaron knew what sold best on the black market, and Casimir, as his bodyguard and best friend, always stuck close to the Calvert.

Andre had sustained major injuries from helping Niveus bait out higher-level Abnormality threats, using himself as a target as Niveus took them out one by one. Andre was used to fighting the mid-level tiers, but with the urgency of it all, Blake had thrown him a drug she was currently testing. The drug in question was used to ignore the pain of getting hurt to extreme degrees to push past the limits of what the human body could do.
But once it had worn off, he had needed medical attention on sight. And after Blake had stabilized him, a medical team took over, Blake needed back at the Nexus institution with urgency.

---

[AT THE A.C.E. AND NEXUS INSTITUTION, A FEW DAYS LATER]

Jake's head reeled from the pain, his eyes working hard to focus on anything.
Not that there was much in the room in the first place, except darkness. He blinked up, tears slipping down his face, the tiredness on his person visible, even in the poorly lit room.

How many days had it been? It had felt like forever had passed - like that week had turned into a month… or two. He didn't know anymore.

His body shuddered against the metal chair, the ache heavy in his bones, not just from the continuous torture he was being put through, but because of his interaction with Marcus. He looked over at his bandaged arm, the blood seeping through from the burn Marcus had inflicted on him, even now as days had passed. He could only imagine that the lack of care for it was making it worse.

The past few days had been utter hell. Aristide was convinced Jake was hiding something.
And he was determined to force it out by any means necessary.

It wasn't anything new, but it was definitely the first time he had been caught for a mistake that A.C.E. considered unforgivable. He had really fucked up this time.

Jake winced when Blake stuck his arm with a needle, his arm trembling from the strain.

"Tell them." Were Blake's first words since she had come in.
Ever since that day, a heavy silence had hung over them whenever they were alone, an air of coldness and hostility there in Blake's presence, even if that was mostly how Blake presented herself to others. The indifference lost on her.

"Why are you doing this?" she spoke again, her voice strained. It was hard to see Jake in this room again. It didn't matter if she had been by his side every time he was held here; it never got any easier. "Why are you protecting him? Would he even do the same for you?" There was bitterness laced in her tone, her words sharp, almost as if chastising Jake.

All Jake could do was train his foggy eyes to the floor. Everything hurt- even to cry, it hurt. But her words seemed to cut deep as Jake's lips trembled at the thought, more tears slipping down. He looked to be at his limit, something Blake hadn't ever seen. No one had.

A choked sob left him as he turned his head away, gritting his teeth as he tried to hide the way he broke the best he could.
And for the first time in those two weeks, Blake's eyes softened at Jake's stubbornness and despair.

"You won't stop, will you?" She questioned, sounding more like a statement than anything else. Blake's lips parted slightly to try and offer some sort of comfort or even pitch in to help him in any way she could, but before she could get anything out, the door to the room opened and in stepped Ren, the head of the sciences team- and Blake's biological father.

Blake's expression immediately hardened again, losing any softness she had displayed before.

"It's been two weeks, Jake. They don't want to break you beyond repair, so if you don't say what you know, it'll fall on Astrid again." Ren spoke as Blake hesitantly pushed the chemical she had created into Jake's arm before removing the needle.

Jake cringed as he felt the cold fluid enter his system. He shook his head.
"It was my fault… I tipped someone off on where we'd be," his raspy voice tried to draw as much force from his sore throat. Those agonizing days had trashed his voice to hell and back, and he didn't quite sound like himself anymore.

"Marcus was it?" Ren trained his eyes on Jake. "It was him, no?" he continued, ignoring whatever Jake seemed to be going through.
"You were close with him, you could have killed him. Blake could have killed him, brought him in, but you stood in the way. Why?" He continued to press.
Almost instantly, Jake shut his mouth, teeth grinding against each other as he gritted them. His eyes fell once more.

"Please… she's just a kid… just eleven… why does she have to pay for my mistakes?" Jake's chest heaved with the thought of what would happen if he didn't admit to what he knew.

"She doesn't. That's up to you." Ren calmly corrected Jake.

Something seemed to snap inside of Jake at the words, more tears spilling from his wide eyes. Whether out of rage or agony, it was unclear.
"YOU'RE ALL FUCKING CRAZY!!!" his voice took on a demonic twist. Deeper, darker, sinister. Hot tears streamed down his face as he stared directly at Ren with his teeth bared, lips trembling.

Even though there was clear anger in his eyes, it fell short due to the underlying fear displayed in his expression. His desperate attempt to intimidate looked more like he was on the edge of losing whatever sanity he had left.

"I was the one who got Marcus through those bodyguards! I was the one who let him crumble half of the building! I was the one who told him about the execution!! And I let him get away!! So fucking what?!" he spat, now visibly shaking from what more was to come. His iris trembled slightly as he kept steady eye contact with Blake's father, his sclera pulsing with black at the edges every time he spoke, the black reaching for his iris, threatening to overtake it.

Blake looked away, trying hard not to cringe at the fact that Jake had just signed another month of torture at the hands of both of their fathers.

---

[A MONTH LATER]

Laughter echoed down the hall as Jen made his way to where Jake had been kept all those weeks. Dread sunk into his bones at the sound.
They hadn't let Jake attend Ezekiel's funeral, his punishment, and the need for more information from him being the top priority.

Now they had asked him to come and get him. They had described him as "a little out of it," yet he knew they only called him in when Jake was worse for wear. Jen had always been the one who could deal with Jake the best when it came to his sanity.

As he approached the heavy iron door, an amused, unintelligible voice spoke words Jen couldn't quite make out.

"I'm here… there, here… It's wrong?… like mine? I…. tried… or so death… death,… taste soft… felt sweet.." Jake's voice faltered as the door opened, his head snapping to the sound of it being unlocked and pushed.

Immediately, quiet drowned the room as he stared at Jen, fear clouding his mind. His breathing was almost choked out of him at seeing the dark figure, and for a long moment, his eyes locked with Jen's, tears welling in them. His body shook with what looked like a panic attack, fear laced in every movement as he shifted his body to press his back against the chair as much as he could. Then, a flicker of recognition crossed his eyes as he tried to put a memory to the face he was seeing.

A startled and sudden high-pitched laugh left him at the sight of Jen, despite the way he shook.

He had lost his mind. Jen determined. How was this "a little out of it"?!

A crooked, large grin painted Jake's lips, showing off his canines.
"Broke the clock's arms? Am I?" Jake questioned, roughly translating to "Is it over? Can I leave now?" in his mind, the meaning and words scrambled.

While Jen had been at odds with Jake for the longest time, one look at him now made tears pool in his eyes. No one really understood Jake, not even Jen, who was the leader and was supposed to be there for everyone, not just the ones who followed the rules and cooperated.
Yes, Jake was all over the place, but seeing how he'd shield those he thought deserved it made Jen's heart squeeze. And he understood why Jake had done it. He knew Astrid was his drive, but it was much more than that. This had been the first time Jake had put Astrid in harm's way. He had never let it be a thought, always confessing if he had to, and letting others die or meet a worse fate if it meant Astrid was safe.

Now? Something had shaken him enough to put his and Astrid's lives on the line. It was the first time in all the years they had been under A.C.E.'s authority that their grasp on Jake had slipped. If only for a moment.
And now, as no one could quite literally understand him anymore, Jen understood him in the moment.

"We're getting you out of here," Jen said firmly as he approached Jake to undo the metal clasps on his wrists.

More amused laughter hummed out of Jake as a fresh streak of tears ran down his cheeks, yet curiously, he seemed to want to get away from Jen, doing his best to shift himself further away, as much and little as he could.

"Hurts… please…" his voice trembled. "S-sorry…" A heavy sob left him. "S'…sorry… my life…w..with…"

Jen paused, hands slowly moving up to cup Jake's face, Jake flinching hard at the touch before he realized the intent and how gentle it was.
"Don't be sorry. Your life is yours, and I won't let you pay with it."

Small, muffled sounds left Jake as the tears slipped from his eyes, the damn breaking with the relief of seeing someone he knew. Of being offered a soft touch.
"Sorry… sorry…" he gasped for air, repeating the words like they were the only ones he knew, his voice cracking and breaking each time he did.