Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Categories:
Fandom:
Relationships:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Series:
Part 5 of prompt fics 2
Stats:
Published:
2020-05-16
Words:
2,946
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
41
Kudos:
1,297
Bookmarks:
189
Hits:
11,657

point first

Summary:

Joker gets the Brainwash status effect when he, Crow, and Violet infiltrate Maruki's palace. It goes badly for Crow.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

With Yoshizawa already knocked out cold, it takes not two seconds after Marin Karin is cast for Joker's knife to sink deep into Crow's chest, and the first thing Crow thinks is: Of course he wouldn't stab me in the back. It's just like him to stab even his own murderer in the front, like a gentleman.

The second thing he thinks is that it's about time Joker killed him.

Goro could almost laugh. The idea that Joker could be betrayed by someone he trusted, shot in the head by someone Joker thought he knew, and not want to get even is ridiculous. How could you sleep at night, knowing that justice hadn't been done, that such a traitor went unpunished? How could you not feel the universe tilting dangerously as its scales tipped heavy towards chaos? How could you stand to let the insult lie, to let someone with such intimate knowledge of you walk free? For god's sake, Shido had gone to great lengths to destroy anyone he even thought would betray him, let alone those who'd already proven themselves so useless as to attempt it. And Goro had learned that Shido was the rule, not the exception.

Joker took his time about it. Joker did nothing for so long that Crow really thought that Joker would just stand there and let Crow just get away without retribution. Turns out that Joker was just biding his time to even the score. Waiting for Crow to really believe that Joker wasn’t going to have his revenge, to think that Joker really meant what he'd said in the engine room—all that nonsense about friendship and promises. To be so stupid, so fucking naive as to think that all of Goro's mistakes could be fixed, rather than punished.

The knife digs a little deeper, the hilt grinding against his bones.

Dying by Joker’s hand makes jail time pale by comparison, when it comes to resetting the cosmic scales. Crow's death is just, if Joker would be his murderer.

Then the pain hits, and Crow's body jerks to life.

He screams mostly out of fury, grabs Joker by the face and slams his head against the floor and screams again as Joker's knife, still lodged in his stomach, rips a long gash deep towards his pelvis.

"Snap out of it!" Crow's gauntlets drip with Joker's blood trying to hold him down. "Get it together! You know this isn't you—!"

Joker twists with surprising grace for someone under Brainwash and slams his foot right into Crow's wound, his fucking heel puncturing an entirely new hole through his skin. The pain has him coughing without air, vision going black, just as the shadow who'd cast Marin Karin in the first place hits Crow with a follow-up burst of magic that knocks him right off his feet.

Distantly, he hears Joker's dagger slide out of his own chest and drop to the ground, as if from another room. The floor is tilting. The shadow that cast Marin Karin scowls at Goro's tenacity, rears back for another spell to finish him off.

It's your fault, Goro thinks.

Joker picks up the dagger, obediently waiting for the shadow's orders.

"You," Goro snarls at the shadow. He's not yours; you can't have him; I'm the one trying to save him, I'm the one trying to fix this, and you—! "GET OUT OF MY WAY—!"

Goro rips Loki free of his soul with a howl that empties his lungs and he can't quite get air back after that, which is when he realizes his lungs might be damaged and he probably shouldn't have used all his air shrieking, but Loki hurts when they claw their way out of his skin, peeling Goro's back up off the ground in a painful arch as Loki delivers the point of Laevateinn straight to the shadow's face, point-first, blade driving down its body from its mouth through its ribcage to stake its corpse to the floor. The shadow swells, bursts, collapses in a shower of disembodied flesh, covering Yoshizawa's unconscious body with black dust.

Holy fuck Goro still has a hole in him. He's genuinely concerned his organs are going to fall out of him between his arms, like when you pick up too many groceries without a basket and they all spill right out of your hands. Can you lose your organs in the Metaverse? Does Yoshizawa have healing spells, or was Joker the only healer on their team?

"Joker," Crow gasps, mouth dripping blood even though he hasn't bitten his tongue, but he isnt sure what he's trying to say—Joker should be the one to kill me, not some petty shadow, or Joker, help me, but either way Joker's face and hair are streaming red lines where Goro's claws raked through his scalp and Joker's eyes are still empty.

Brainwash is still active.

This is why Joker never lets anyone fight without back-up, Goro thinks. Spells like Marin Karin can can get even the most experienced Persona user. What happened to our deal? Goro tries to say, but he can't quite seem to breathe, squirming on the ground like a worm covered in its own fluids. I expected better of you, than to let a petty shadow turn you into its slave...

Joker strides towards him with purpose, ready to finish the job. Goro's limbs are still trying to pick himself back up to fight and keep himself alive, like a bad reflex he can't stop. If he used Loki now, wouldn't he hurt him? It'd be simple if he could just use Laevateinn to skewer his enemy, but...

"Wake up, Joker," Crow wheezes. It doesn't sound very commanding. His voice sounds thin and reedy from pain.

Joker flips the dagger around to the forward grip and keeps walking. Goro's blood keeps spilling out of his open stomach onto the floor, the sound of a leaky faucet.

"Don't try me," Crow warns. "I'll beat the sanity back into you if I have to."

Joker does not respond. Crow's fingers are cold; the pain in his chest has gone oddly numb. His body is dying, Crow realizes. He's been close to death before, when he traveled the Metaverse alone, but he's never felt it quite this sharply, so sweetly spreading inside him.

If he dies now, Joker would have his revenge. Justice is served. The villain is defeated. A happy ending for everyone.

Joker stares back up at him. No recognition at all. It's not really him, Goro thinks. If he killed me now, it wouldn't really be him.

"You asked for it," Crow snarls, and pulls out his gun. Joker lunges.

Two shots to the meat of Joker's shoulder but Joker's dagger still flashes clean towards Goro's neck. Goro barely gets away with a Tetrakarn before Joker's up in his personal space and Goro rolls back, letting Joker's momentum take them both, and shoves Joker off him with Joker's own inertia. Joker springs back like a cat, only for Crow to seize him by the throat and wrestle him to the floor.

Pain roars in Crow's ears. Crow's gun skitters across the floor. Joker's dagger sinks under Goro's ribcage, pushing up, digging for his organs. Goro can hear his own voice crying out again. There's tears on the inside of his own helmet. Joker's eyes are entirely blank.

Goro’s been Brainwashed before. He’s not exactly proud of how wild and angry he was towards Joker and how much of an idiot he made of himself, but it was better than Joker’s silence, the same mysterious, quiet boy behind the Leblanc counter turned into a long, mute death knell. This isn't him, Goro thinks, and rips Joker's pockets open through the punchdrunk of pain and blood loss.

Supplies scatter. Joker seems preoccupied with trying to pull the dagger out of Goro's ribcage, but he'd shoved it too deep and the bladed hilt's stuck fast in Goro's bones. "Don't—test me," Goro gasps, seizing an energy drop in an unsteady hand that feels too heavy. "Open your mouth and—eat your medicine—or I'll shove this through your—throat myself..."

Joker rips the dagger free. Goro's ribs crack and blossom out of his chest, the pieces pulled out by the jagged dagger hilt.

After that, Goro isn't really sure what happens.

He's dying, that's for sure—

Blood in his mouth, warmth across his chest. Flat on his back. Sliding right off the floor, butter on a tilted pan.

Metal streaked with red. Joker's face. Pale skin. Dark eyes. Red hands. Red splatter across thin lips.

Justice is served.

The villain is defeated.

A happy ending for

Murder (noun): To be so arrogant as to consider oneself the arbiter of human life; the belief that one's own righteousness grants one the moral license to determine the trajectory of someone else's entire

To be so stupid so fucking naive as to think that mistakes should be punished eye for an eye pain for pain bullet for bullet an equal and opposite and all actions are rewarded with what they deserve

blood off a knife, a dead-eyed thing looking down at him through Akira's eyes, what is he waiting for, You're the fool for letting me live this long when I

Snap out of it Get it together You know this isn't you

the wet splat of a dead body hitting the interrogation room table, living to dead before his head even hits the metal, irreparable and irreversible damage from a single bullet applied to the forehead and through the mushy matter of the brain as if that's all it takes to remove Akira Kurusu from the world when the rest of his body is perfectly intact, his heart and his brain are still all mostly there it's really quite ridiculous that all it takes is

swells bursts collapses in a shower of disembodied flesh and

We're rivals aren't w

Murder (noun): Well I didn't think he deserved to be dead but it was a matter of business, unfortunately, sometimes interests simply don't align and there's nothing else for it but to get rid of them and it's not just but it's the way the world works and I don't see why I should have to fight fair when everyone else in this fucking country rigs every game and deals under the table and

I'll hold onto your gl

If Crow dies here, Joker would be a murderer.

Murder (noun): just behavior or treatment; the quality of being fair and reasonable; the administration of the law or authority in maintaining this; the personification of justice, usually a blindfolded woman holding scales and a sword

Joker kneeling over him. Goro's chest open and exposed, cold in the air. Knife raised. Blade down. Ready to finish the job.

He's barely even there there's nothing in the eyes and if Goro's going to get murdered you'd think that he'd at least get to be murdered by someone who recognizes him for who he

Joker wouldn't do that. Joker would never be so selfish as to take another person's life for his own self-satisfaction. Joker is better than that. Because Joker isn't like G

But it's not just But it's not just But it's not just But it's

Did Akira ask for what was just?

I can't trust you.

Did Akira ask for what was just?

I cannot allow you to change

Joker with the red knife in his hand. Joker kneeling over him, blade at Goro's heart, ready to stake him through the floor

I'll hold onto your glove—

Joker isn't a murderer.

This wasn't our promise—

Crow's not about to make him one.

"—LOKI!"

Loki's clawed fingers seize Joker's arms and wrench them behind his back. Joker's mouth opens in surprise and Goro slams the energy drop against Joker's teeth, wraps his legs around Joker's waist to hold him in place, hand flush against Joker's mouth to hold his jaw shut and make sure he doesn't spit the drop back out. Joker thrashes against Goro's hand. The serrated edges of Goro's claws tear Joker's cheeks, his mouth; Joker struggles in Loki's hands, then shudders, then convulses as he tries to breathe against Goro's palm.

Either Joker swallows the fucking thing or Goro suffocates him to death right here. "Wake up," Goro's voice says faintly, as darkness begins to consume his vision. "This isn't... you. This isn't..."

Joker's eyes shut, as if in pain. Finally he swallows. Goro's claws are full of blood and bits of skin; Joker's entire face is shredded from Goro's sharp gauntlets. At the last second, Goro wonders if Joker really does still have Goro's other glove—the soft one, the one that isn't covered in metal and thorns—and then Goro blacks out so fast he doesn't even see his own hand fall away from Joker's face.

*

"Crow!"

"Senpai!" says Yoshizawa, and Goro's eyes snap open.

He's alive. Well, of course he is; he's not sure what it'd be like if he was dead, since he'd just cease to exist and he wouldn't be around to think about being either alive or dead. "Senpai, are you okay?" Yoshizawa's voice says from somewhere above him, as Goro blinks away the bright lights of the palace.

He feels remarkably fine. He feels so weirdly fine, actually, that he feels like he has whiplash, because he can still remember exactly what it was like for his limbs to grow heavy and his organs to shut down and his insides to fall right out of his punctured skin. Death was a whole-body experience, and now here he is, so normal and alive that he feels, somehow, less alive than he did when his entire body was struggling to cling to every breath and stave off death.

"Senpai—"

"Yes," says Goro grumpily, "I'm here, I'm awake."

"Oh, thank goodness... I thought for sure that..."

Both Joker and Yoshizawa are kneeling at his side, staring at him. When Goro peels himself up off the floor, it really is peeling, considering the mildly sticky pool of blood that tries to keep him attached to the floor. Oh, disgusting. "How long was I out?" Crow asks, to stave off any potential sappy conversations that might follow a near-death experience.

"Not very long, Joker-senpai fixed you up but you were still out for a few minutes..." Yoshizawa chews her lip nervously. "He said that he was Brainwashed, and that you..."

"It happens," says Crow brusquely. Joker tilts his head to the other way at that. "Are you alright yourself, Yoshizawa-san?"

"Yes! Thanks to you and Joker-senpai. I..." Yoshizawa hesitates, and then bows low. "Thank you so much for saving us! We would have been in trouble without you! I was rash and made mistakes during that battle, and I wasn't able to be there for Joker-senpai or yourself! I won't let the team down again."

Yeah, Crow hadn't been thinking about Yoshizawa even a little bit during that fight. Joker just puts his hands in his pockets. "It's nothing," says Crow. "Things like this happen in palaces."

"You shouldn't have had to fight alone! And it wasn't Joker-senpai's fault that he was brainwashed. I'll do better from here on out."

"You're still learning. It's alright for you to make mistakes. That's why Joker and I are here." Crow rubs one hand across his abdomen. His outfit seems to have fixed itself, like it sometimes does when a healing spell it cast, and the skin underneath the fabric is scarred and sensitive but undoubtedly whole. All his organs are definitely on the inside of his body.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Yoshizawa asks.

"Apparently," says Crow. "I should be thanking Joker for the Diarahan, I see."

"Samarecarm," says Joker shortly.

So Goro really had almost died. He can't tell if it's guarded distrust or something else in Joker's clipped response. "Even more so, then," says Crow, and gets to his feet quickly before the sobfest can continue. "Now, if we're all done with the thank-yous and the apologies, may we get a move on? We're still in the middle of a palace, and shadows don't wait for touching conversations."

"Ah, yes, sorry—"

Joker stands. "Thanks," he says quietly. "For saving me."

Crow brushes him off with a wave of his bloody hand. "We made a deal to get to the bottom of the strange occurrences together. I have no intention of breaking our arrangement."

Joker rubs a hand across his face. He's cleaned the blood off his face, but his hair is still more red than black, and the scars from Crow's gauntlet are still there under his fingers in pink, shiny lines, criss-crossing over his mouth like thread sewing his mouth shut. The wounds will disappear without another Diarahan or some healing gel, but the sight still makes Goro frown.

"Still," says Joker. "We would've died without your help."

"I told you I didn't do it for you," Crow says coldly.

Crow has always been a selfish person. Crow doesn't intend to change now. He'll hold his convictions as close to his chest as he always had. It's not anything good if Joker is one of them. "Now, if we're quite done here?" says Crow, and gestures for Joker to lead the way.

Joker looks at him silently from behind his mask, like he can see right through Goro. Now this is the real Joker, without some petty brainwash effect: that quiet regard from behind Leblanc's counter, the impenetrable stare, the unshakable but peaceable calm.

"Alright," says Joker. He sounds almost fond.

It feels more dangerous than when Joker had been trying to kill him by far.