tushanshu_logs | [Closed] Walk Away

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[Closed] Walk Away

Characters: Jack Frost, Oliver Queen / PART TWO: + Kyle Rayner / PART THREE: + Connor Hawke / PART FIVE: + Zatanna Zatara
Date: Following this showdown and Jack's horrible excuse. Exact length of time to be determined.
Location: One of Tu Vishan's abandoned villages (as outlined here) near the shell's edge, a few hours outside Keeliai and by the mountains.
Situation: Taking issue with Oliver's plan of action, Jack has brought him outside the city to see if he can't get his head on straight. Part Two & Three: After their return, there are still some things to answer for.
Warnings/Rating: Ollie's probably not happy, so associated warnings there.

Jack had been out to these areas several times since his arrival, so he flew straight and unerring across the barren landscape, stirring up heavy storm clouds in his wake, pregnant with snow that was only partially intentional, reacting to his emotions. When they finally touched down at the outskirts of a burned husk of a village, Jack dragged Oliver's unconscious form into the most complete building. It wasn't great, but it had four walls and most of a roof and that was good because Oliver was heavy and it didn't help that Jack couldn't stop replaying their conversation in his mind, over and over.

"What if someone starts coming after you the way you're going after these kedan?!"

"Then I kill them."

"Wrong answer."

So when the man awakes, he will find himself under a blanket but sans boots (and said footwear being nowhere to be seen) and Jack sitting in the windowsill, looking out at a thick curtain of falling snow and humming something of a song under his breath.

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"Because there's another Oliver Queen somewhere," Jack answered, coming up to stand beside her with a container of salt, setting it down on the counter next to her. "And some people know him -- Kyle does."

A nod. That part, she was unsurprised by.

"Kyle knows another me, too. It's more common around here than you might think." She took the salt without looking at him, eyeballing the amount she poured into the basin. The water was about three quarters of the way full before she cut the faucet. "Though that doesn't explain why you're hurt."

"Another you?" Jack echoed, surprised. "I didn't know. It doesn't make things less complicated but... it might be a little easier to explain."

He hopped up so he was sitting on the counter next to the sink so he could watch her, his bare feet swinging lightly against the cabinets. "Zatanna, what would you do if you saw someone doing something bad, but you knew that wasn't... that wasn't the person you knew they were? Wouldn't you try to stop them?"

The movement drew her attention, and she looked up from soaking the sweatshirt. Her other self wasn't something she normally spoke about. Not unless it was relevant. It was only because of her recent talk with Kyle that she found the subject easier to deal with than before.

And then, his question...

"You mean, like they were possessed?" A flash of pain behind her eyes. She thought of the zombie that looked like her Robin. What the other Robin had had to do. "Or a shapeshifter of some kind?"

"No," Jack said, dragging the word out reluctantly. He was still hesitating telling her, but only because he was afraid of making the situation worse.

"Like they were doing something they didn't really want to be doing, but they felt like they had to."

She heaved a sigh, throwing the sweatshirt into the water. It didn't all fit, but at least she had the entirety of the stain submerged. It would be an hour before she could take it out, anyway.

"Look, I don't do really good with the hypothetical, alright? Just tell me what happened, already." And then, to show she was serious, she added: "...please?"

Jack closed his eyes for a moment, weighing what he was about to say.

"I saw Oliver out in the city, four nights ago. I didn't like what he was doing and... we fought, a little bit. He tried to get away so I knocked him out and I took him away, out to the mountains."

...well, that explained both the injuries and the sudden 'camping trip'. She wasn't sure which was the more disturbing part.

"You went away for three days with burns and cuts like that? Tell me you've at least seen a doctor or something."

"The burns and the cut came later," Jack winced slightly. "When he tried to get away after I tried to figure out what had happened, what had gotten him like... like that. I scared him I asked questions he didn't want to answer, so he threw the fire at me and he--"

He broke off, not wanting to say it. Instead he reached up to the side of his neck and dissolved the ice covering the cut there.

Not for the first time, she felt a deep, unsettling ache in the pit of her stomach. One that only got worse when he revealed the horrific cut on his neck. Any other person, and a would like that could've been fatal. Maybe it had been fatal; she was still extremely loose on the rules of life and death here. People came back...but in what condition?

She shivered violently. Oliver had done this to him, he said. Yet, here he was, almost defending the guy who had severely burned his face and slashed at him.

"Go sit on the bed." She ordered him.

Jack opened his mouth to object and then wisely thought better of it, crossing the room to rest lightly on the edge of the bed as though he were ready to leap back off it and flee at any moment.

"I told Kyle already," he said after a moment, fidgeting. He wasn't sure why that mattered, but it felt important to say.

"I'm sure that went over well."

Surprisingly, the command hadn't been an effort to put space between them. In fact, once she was certain Jack had seated himself on the mattress, she came to join him. Taking the spot directly next to him, so close that her knees lightly bumped his when she turned...and began examine the injuries up close. Assessing how much damage their actually was.

Jack tensed up initially at the closeness but of all the people in Keeliai, Zatanna was the one he trusted the most and forced himself to relax. The cut was deep and if prodded however gently, would bleed slightly though the vital liquid was too thick, almost slushy. The burns had started to heal by covering over with a papery layer of skin, but it flexed with each expression and so didn't get a chance to graft over very well.

"I had to make him understand," Jack replied. "Because he knows the other Oliver and... this Oliver, I know now that it's hard for him. I didn't then, but he told me."

"It's hard for all of us. We always feel like we're being compared, and either we can't match up to expectations or we're being subconsciously blamed for things done in another life."

Kyle had reassured her about a lot of things regarding her own insecurities. But the generalization was still there, and she had a feeling it applied a little too closely to this situation.

The closeness was necessary; Zatanna needed to get as accurate an assessment of his injuries as possible if she was going to even consider healing them. What she saw made her want to throw up: the skin around his face was scabbed and flakey. As expressive as he tended to be, the movement kept hindering any real progress in healing. Skin barely had time to re-grow before it blistered and/or cracked again. His neck was even worse; more than 24 hours, and no signs of clotting other than...was his blood frozen?

"Hold still," she told him. This time, the command came out a little weaker. She raised both hands, focusing first on his neck, and murmured, "Laeh mih." They began to glow.

The way Jack's eyes hooded at her statement told that being held to expectations was something he was unpleasantly familiar with. His hands fluttered on the blankets like an anxious bird ready to take flight when she told him to hold still and he did his best to follow her instructions, but he still jumped a little when her hands started to glow.

"Wh-What's...?"

"Healing magic." She bit back a snappier remark, instead keeping her voice calm and neutral. "I'm not sure I can get it all, but I can at least heal you enough so that you don't look like you belong in the ICU."

A wince. She wasn't exaggerating that part.

Once she was certain he understood what she was doing, she reraised her arms and focused. Her hands noticeably trembled, despite an expression that betrayed nothing. All her effort went into the repairs. First, the cut on his neck. Gradually reducing it to something that would clot on its own within seven or eight minutes. Then, the burns.

He would feel a strange warmth as she passed over his marred flesh the second time, allowing her powers to seep into the wounds. Warm, but not uncomfortable, even for a Winter Spirit. She managed to bring them down to first-degree. But at a cost; her skin gradually paled the longer she went on, stubbornly draining herself too much. Healing magic was powerful, and though she had experience, it was more an issue of reserves. In her case...here, on the Turtle...she didn't have enough.

Her hands abruptly dropped to her sides. A wave of vertigo swept over her, and she leaned forward. Nearly passing out.

Jack's fingers tangled in the bed's blanket to keep from reaching up to his neck to prod at the eerie feeling of the cut healing, though it was nothing compared to the sensation of the burns healing over.

But the feeling cut off abruptly and his eyes opened just in time to see her almost pitch forward. Jack reached out and caught her by the shoulders.

"Zatanna! Are you all right?"

A low moan, but her hand soon rose to her head and she gave a nod. Straightening. Taking a few deep breaths, she even managed to open her eyes.

"Yeah. Just used a little too much. I'll be fine." She would sleep deeply tonight, that was for sure. "What about you? How do you feel?"

Jack cautiously touches his face, but for the first time since his return, the burns don't flare with pain. "It's a lot better," he said honestly, though her moan made something inside of him shrivel.

"Thank you, but maybe you should lay down for a few minutes. I don't want you to wear yourself down just to help me."

"I'm fine."

The validity of that statement was up for debate.

"You said before that all this happened because of something Oliver was doing, right? What was it exactly?"

"I..." Jack began but swallowed, his blue eyes sliding away. After the whole meeting of superheroes and the discussion of secret identities, Jack didn't want to tread where he wasn't supposed to. Oliver had taken a deliberate step to change both his clothes and his demeanor that first night the winter teen had encountered him.

But he owed Zatanna the truth, didn't he? For helping him and for being his dearest friend here.

"He was... picking fights," he said judiciously. "And winning them, um... pretty strongly."

"Picking fights...how?"

She was getting a very strong vigilante vibe, but that could've just been personal experience talking. There was always the possibility of another explanation.

Jack hung his head, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper.

"I'm sorry but... I can't, it's not my secret to tell."

Something inside her snapped.

Maybe it was the exhaustion from draining herself. Maybe it was the leftover shock of having seen his injuries up-close. Maybe it was the fact that she was starting to get tired of all the things being kept from her. Whatever the reason, she abruptly stood up (an action she would most likely regret once the adrenaline wore off) and nearly screamed in frustration.

"How can you even say that?! This guy burned and cut and could've killed you, and you're still trying to cover for him?!"

Jack lost what little colour to his complexion he had, throat moving as he stared wide-eyed up at Zatanna.

"Z-Zatanna, it's-- I..."

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