Chapter Text
They had underestimated you once again. Their plan had been to call for a cell from the League in the morning to hold you, knowing you were still too injured to make it out on your own, at least without waking them.
But they had been wrong. Khaji Da had not even been able to wake Jaime before you had already escaped out into the night. They had thought with your injuries, still barely able to put any weight on your right side, that you would have been a bit easier to keep track of. By the time Blue Beetle had made it out the same window you were gone, not even the sensors could find you.
That had been weeks ago, and he had not seen hide nor hair of you since, and Khaji Da had not even picked up your signature lingering around their apartment.
It was frustrating. You had been right in their grasp and then just as easily you had been gone. The hero had heard rumors here or there about your whereabouts, but Khaji stood by the idea that you were primarily healing and plotting, rather than negotiating in seemingly petty squabbles. Jaime was forced to agree – you held grudges, and if word had gotten out that someone had almost taken you off the playing field it would rain fire on your reputation.
Still, each time there was an alarm blare he had to check out, or another robbery to stop, he almost hoped that it was you. Even if it was just to make sure that you were alive.
The last ace up their sleeve, Khaji had reminded, was that they had found one of your safe houses. But that information needed to be held close to their chest. It was the only one they knew about, and you would burn it to the ground if you thought for a second that they might have found it.
Instead, they focused on their day-to-day. They were just trying their best to keep the streets they had sworn to protect clean and safe as they could.
“You are losing focus again, Jaime.” Khaji chided, not bothering to course correct when Jaime almost flew into an advertisement sign for a new movie.
“¡Carajo!” ( “Fuck!” ) Jaime barely stopped in time as he snapped back to reality. Even then his foot clipped the top of the billboard, and he had to right himself immediately before he spun out. “A little heads up, please?”
“I have tried many times; you are too distracted today.” There was a shrill flare in the edges of Jaime’s mind from Khaji Da. A warning that the scarab was in no mood for the blame game.
“Lo siento, love bug.” ( “I’m sorry, love bug.” ) Jaime could almost hang his head in shame. He had been a bit quick to snap at Khaji Da recently, and he knew it. “Maybe we should call it a night?”
Khaji was silent for a moment before answering. “Pet names will not save you.”
“Please don’t start playing children’s songs on repeat in my head again.”
There was a satisfied chirp from the sentient scarab, a reminder of the last time that Jaime had gotten hot with him. “No promises.” There was a silence once more, but as though Khaji Da was thinking. “We can fly closer to their safe house, perhaps I can pick up their signature inside and get a read on their condition.”
“We don’t have to do that.”
“I am worried as well, Jaime.” A sweet admission, and a rare one at that.
Jaime only forced down a smile, nodding along and changing course to include a flyby of the safe house they had found. “A quick stop, just to see. But if they think we’re on to them then we bail, I don’t want a fight tonight.”
“Affirmative.” Khaji began scanning ahead as far as he could before they were even in range, determined to seek you out if you were anywhere in the vicinity.
It was still such a warm lull, the feeling of the sensors running all around him. Almost enough that Jaime was starting to lull off again, until something caught his vision from below. “Khaji, what is” he can’t finish his sentence before the black van has screeched to a halt and a man had stepped outside. There was no time to zoom in on them before Khaji Da had released a sheer trill of pain, the armor beginning to recede when the duo was still in the air.
An EMP. A bastard of a device if Jaime had ever had to deal with. There had been a few run ins prior, but there was no way to stop it. Jaime tore off course, as much as he could as he lost control of the disappearing suit, to try and stop them from falling too close to their attackers.
Khaji Da tried. He tried to keep the armor in place, to stop Jaime from sustaining injury as he watched through his host’s eyes while they fell. But the damage was done and the pain that affected his mechanical body was too much to hold themselves together. Smaller EMPs were no issue, but this one had been specific and at a frequency the scarab just could not handle.
Jaime wanted to call for Khaji, but he could feel the scarab walling himself off involuntarily, and all the man could do now was brace for impact as he fell.
Khaji Da did not give up though. He could not fix the armor, but he managed to keep the “legs” of the suit intact, grabbing wildly at the metal of the fire escapes as they fell to slow his host’s fall and try to save him from major damage.
It worked to an extent, swinging them onto bags of trash, but it did not stop the beating that Jaime took as he fell, or the hit to his head that he sustained from a railing.
Khaji Da tried to scan as much as he could, noting fractures and some bruising and bleeding, a concussion that was leaving Jaime on the brink of unconsciousness, and a few other injuries. But nothing that would kill him, not like it would of if Khaji had not stepped in. It still hurt even him, the effects of the EMP lingering and damaging his external sensors.
All he had left was to take control, dragging the pair from the trash and down the alley as fast as the limping body could move. They had to act quickly before the ambushers would be on top of them, and there was only one place Khaji could hope to find safety if he had no way of contacting anyone else.
You would leave, or slam the door in their face, surely. But maybe you had enough of a heart for the pair that you would help them. If the scarab could stumble his way to your safe house in the dark.
For his part, despite a few instances where he had to hide from the sounds of footsteps, unsure of who was following him, Khaji Da managed to make it to your back door. The strain on Jaime’s body was too much, and before the scarab could knock on the door, he unceremoniously collapsed against it. The bang was so loud that even he cringed back, knowing if you were home that you heard it.
A minute later he got his answer when you swung the door open, staring down at him before scanning the area around you. Khaji ignored that, trying to speak instead. “I didn’t know where else to go.” When you looked back at him, a small huff and a shake of your head before reaching down, Khaji stopped fighting and withdrew back into his carapace.
You were surprised by that, when his whole body went limp, and Jaime gave only a small groan as you touched him. It certainly hadn’t been Jaime speaking, you could tell the difference between the two well enough – even if many of their foes had no idea there was a second sentient partner.
“What am I going to do with you?” With one more look out into the darkness you hooked your arms around the unresponsive body of the local hero and dragged him inside. You would have to move later, but for now that did not matter. The least you could do was return their kindness, and maybe save the pair that you had such a soft spot for – not that you would admit it.
The couch in the old house could pull out as a futon and you shimmied him against him before setting it up as a bed, at least willing to make him a little more comfortable. He was certainly going to be confused when he woke up naked, but you considered it payback for having to strip at their place – not that you really minded too much – and you needed to see what kind of damage you were working with.
You pulled him onto the futon, careful not to exasperate his wounds, before taking a seat on the edge next to him, pulling him into a sitting position and trying to pry off his shirt without letting him fall. It was a bit harder than you anticipated to get it past the scarab embedded into his back, but it was manageable. The rest of his clothes followed easily enough and were tossed aside. You could throw them in the wash later if you felt nice enough, but there was no hurry for the moment.
You left just long enough to get two bowls, water, and a first aid kit so you could begin to clean up his wounds. Ice would come next to help with the bruises and swelling that you could already see. His wrist was swollen badly, and there was a knot on the top of his head that would need a cold compress for sure. But from what you could tell he had no broken bones, and you had caused and had plenty yourself. Still, his scarab would correct what he could when he awoke, so you worried less, deciding instead to keep an eye on him if things got worse. You couldn’t really drop him off at the nearest hospital with the blue bug attached to his spine.
You paused in your meticulous ministrations when the alarms from your cameras began to ring. With narrowed eyes you stepped away from Khaji Da and Jaime to see what the issue was.
Slinking around outside of your safe house was a group of 4 masked individuals. Sticking mostly to the shadows on the other side of the street, it was obvious they were searching for something or someone. Turning over garbage cans or cardboard, anything that Blue Beetle could have hidden behind.
It brought a snarl to your face you hadn’t even expected. It wasn’t an issue for the moment, and your next move would not be either, so long as Blue Beetle stayed asleep. You placed a cool rag on Jaime’s forehead, drew the covers up over him and tutted. “Can’t have someone hunting you two down, now, can I? Takes all the fun out of things for me.”
It was a hollow explanation, but one you would stick to for now as you slipped out the front door, advancing on the men before they even knew what had hit them.
One by one you hunted them down, quickly and efficiently, before their teammates even knew something was wrong. It didn’t much matter to you if they were dead or out cold, you were still bitter at having been outplayed weeks prior that you were not in much of a forgiving mood. They were taken care of and shoved into an abandoned building further away. It had taken two hours of your time to dispose of them, but it was better safe than sorry. You’d be gone from the area soon enough as is.
When you walked back inside you heard shuffling, leaving you stiff as you made your way around the wall and into the living room. Jaime was dipping the rag back in the water, which you figured was warm by now.
“Let me get that.” you insisted, taking it gently from his hands despite your strict tone.
Jaime didn’t have the heart or energy to argue with you, laying back down and closing his eyes. “Did you come get me?”
You consider not answering as you go to grab a second rag and an ice pack, unfortunately you relent. “He brought you here.”
When you come back into view you can see his face scrunched up in confusion. “Khaji Da?”
“Yeah, he did.” When you place the ice pack wrapped in the cloth against his head you realize he wasn’t asking anything directed at you. His eyes are off in space, and he looks troubled. “I think he needs to rest; he seemed pretty out of it too when he got here.”
“Was he talking?”
“He was,” you assure, pulling the blanket down to dab away at a nasty cut on his side.
Jaime makes a noise of retaliation but doesn’t fight, letting you work just as you had let him.
It’s weird though, and you can’t keep as quiet for the moment. “I guess now we’re even.”
Jaime raises his brow, looking over at you with half lidded eyes.
“You stripped me, I stripped you.”
He glowers for a moment at the wall, running his hand against the thin blanket. “I’m not wearing anything, am I?”
“Nothing but the birthday suit you were born in.”
“Pequeña amenaza.” ( “You little menace.” ) It’s half-hearted, but Jaime will have time to be embarrassed about it later. “I don’t know when they’ll be back.”
“They won’t be.” Your response is sharp and short, and when jaime looks at you to argue you fix him with a look that warns him not to ask questions he does not want answers to.
“They followed us here?”
“They did, and I don’t much like trespassers.” Your voice softens when you hit a sensitive cut a bit too roughly. “It’s why you woke up alone.”
“Thank you for helping us.”
You only hum, not trusting yourself to answer. “Turn over, there’s a nasty gash next to Khaji Da. I want to go ahead and clean that up.”
Jaime tenses at that, but slowly he does as asked, turning his head to keep an eye on your movements. Even in such a tense state he is on high alert to protect his other half. He isn’t stupid, you're still the enemy.
But you yourself are too caught up looking at the scarab. It is the first time that you have ever actually seen the carapace. The color is deep and rich and if it was not for the look of warning you’re getting from Jaime you would keep admiring it. Instead, you look to the cut, dragging along the edges to clean it up before going back over with alcohol, just to make sure it is sterile. The last thing anyone needs is an infection creeping up just under the carapace itself.
Your fingers brush along the edge of it, genuinely on accident, but you're caught off guard by just how warm it is. For a moment you trace it, barely registering the way even Jaime seems to shudder under the touch. He goes to speak before he gets that dazed look in his eyes, and when his next words come out you realize what has happened.
“I would appreciate if you would focus on my host for now.”
It catches you off guard until you make eye contact with him. “Nice of you to join the living once again.”
“I needed to reboot.”
“Ah, well, I’ll just focus on you after Jaime then.” you say, tracing once more along the spine of the carapace.
Khaji retreats as another shudder takes Jaime and he grumbles. “Pequeña amenaza, pequeña amenaza.” ( “Little menace, little menace.” ) He shakes his head, burying it against the ice pack and his arms.
You can’t help but bark out a laugh at that. “Should I ask you to turn over so I can get the rest under the blanket, or do you need a cold shower first?” There’s a glint in your eyes as you rub away some dried blood at one cut just past the top of the blanket. “Or if you think you can handle a few minutes I’m sure I could help.”
“Okay, okay,” Jaime yelps, voice cracking as he throws his arm up. He can’t find the rest of his words, waving you away in a flustered hurry.
His attempts don’t work and all you can do is laugh instead. Wholly and loudly, head thrown back, you cannot help but laugh at his reaction.
Jaime is caught off guard, and even Khaji Da pulls forward, their own smile creeping in at your complete joy.
When you finally calm down, you’re still unsure just what set you off so badly, but there are tears in the corner of your eyes, and you lower your head into your hands. “Alright, pretty boy and buggy, I can either clean the rest or let you sleep – it's your choice.”
Jaime does think about it, and so does Khaji Da. But everything still hurts, his wrist is still swollen, and his head feels like it’s been run over. And truthfully, they don’t feel like being left alone in this room for the moment. It’s in unison when Blue Beetle next asks you “¿Terminarás, por favor?” ( “Will you finish, please?” )
You nod, still chuckling here and there as you pull back the blanket gently, careful not to tug against injured skin. “I can, I can. But anything more costs you extra.”
Khaji quips at that, “you’ve seen where we live, we can’t afford extra.”
You laugh again at that, though not as hard. “Oh, maybe I’ll give you a discount then.”
Khaji shoots back once more, intrigued. “Discount for what?”
“Maybe for being cute, maybe for making me laugh. Maybe just so I can say I jumped the bones of a hero, and they wanted more.” You won't look at them, still too focused on the task at hand. “You know how good that would be for my ego?”
Your breath is right against his skin, and Jaime is having a hard time ignoring it, but Khaji Da can just as easily cut himself off. “Maybe your ego could use a little help after your loss.”
Jaime takes back over, hands to his eyes as he tries to ignore what is going on – despite the dull ache that is background noise to his body for now. “Los dos sois malos para mi salud.” ( “You’re both bad for my health.” )
“Oh, I certainly am,” you hum out, one glance up to him from the corner of your eye, knowing exactly how close you still are to his skin.
It might not be the attack from earlier that gets him tonight, he realizes.