Work Text:
(Self harm warning, and check the tags for other warnings as well)
Jake breathed heavily, chest heaving as if underwater. He couldn’t breathe. His chest hurt. There was blood on his hands. It was everywhere. He just killed those muggers… he had to. He had to.
He had to.
Steven was in danger, he didn’t question anything as he was suddenly thrust forward into the body. He knew his job. He didn’t let up until they stopped moving, and…
Jake didn’t know what to do. He killed the bad people. So why did he feel so bad himself? Tears welled up in his vision, threatening to spill but never running down. He had lost the ability to cry long ago. Lost it when he blinked into awareness to find dear old mommy beating him.
Jake didn’t think, didn’t want to think, as he willed the sleeves of the suit away. His gaze traveled to the sole knife on the ground, glinting temptingly. The tears threatened to spill again, and he- he couldn’t-
No. He wouldn’t cut himself. He wasn’t suicidal.
Instead, he glanced down at his exposed wrist, holding up his other arm. His nails were long and ragged. It should hurt.
He moved his arm down, and started clawing his wrists.
He clawed
And clawed
And clawed.
His wrist was red and raw, sting barely noticeable through his haze of tears. He was wrong for doing this. He should stop. He should stop.
He kept scratching.
Tiny dots of barely-blood welled up, too pink to truly be blood. Tiny strips of skin peeled off, barely noticeable. It was actually starting to hurt now- not that it didn’t hurt before. It just…he knew it was pain. Knew it felt bad. But it didn’t truly hurt, not until now.
Jake knew it would scab. That it would turn yellowish and hard. That the hairs of his sleeves would stick to the surface wound. That every time he bent his arm or moved it would sting, reminding him of what he did.
Reminding him of what he did to a body he shared.
He wondered what Steven would think of the wounds.
It hurt. It hurt so much. He- he should stop…
A Hand grabbed his gently, and he stilled and stiffened immediately.
Someone knew
Jake had fantasized about someone knowing. Someone finding out and caring. Mom finding out and realizing she was wrong…
…but now he was truly afraid of them knowing
He didn’t look up to see who it was.
“…Why do you hurt yourself, Jake Lockley?” A voice he knew all too well asked sadly
Jake glanced up minutely, facing Khonshu as much as he could.
His throat felt dry, his nose stuffy and making it harder to intake air. The sadness coursing through his chest and veins was so intense it almost hurt. He couldn’t respond. He couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know why he did it. Why he- why he hurt himself…
“I don’t know” Jake choked out, cringing immediately after he said those words. Mom always got mad when he didn’t know. Mom always grabbed the nearest object when she was mad. Jakes mind was blank, even though it was screaming at him to make himself smaller- no, act normal so she doesn’t accuse you of faking it- no, get away- wait, no, you need to hide-
“Jake” Khonshu’s voice reached him through a haze of emotion
Jakes first response was to protect the body, to protect Marc and Steven. He grabbed Khonshu’s arm unthinking, trying to twist it out of place.
It didn’t budge.
Khonshu stared down at him sadly. “You lash out because its all you know” Khonshu stated. And it was a statement- not a question
Jake knew deep down why he was lashing out. Knew deep down what his role in the system was. Knew that he needed help. Knew he was crying out for help, the sound swallowed by his own will to keep his pain a secret. He was fine…
Khonshu gently removed his hand, and gingerly cupped his masked face. “What she did wasn’t right.” He started, and Jake already knew his words wouldn’t have meaning after that. He knew this. But knowing somehow made it worse. Denial was easier than waking up from one nightmare into another. Easier than realizing his mother truly was evil.
Khonshu continued “But that doesn’t right the wrongs does it?” Jake glanced up at him in confusion “You have to live with those wrongs, you wont ever get closure.”
Ah, there it was. Straight-forward. He would never be happy. At least the bird was being honest.
“But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be loved. You were just a little boy…still are. You deserve to feel joy.” Khonshu looked up, way up at the moon overhead.
Jake didn’t know what to say, even as his self inflicted wounds started to mend at Khonshu’s will.
“I hate to see you in pain. I am not mad at you for it, I do not despise you for it…” Khonshu stared him once more.
“The world was cruel to you. You deserve much, much more” Khonshu paused, stroking his face. “My words may just be words, the meaning may not carry over…but know that if no one else does, I will always care for you. For all of you.”
Jake stared at the god “…No one ever told me that before”
“No one ever…cared for me”
“Mom…mom didn’t…”
Jake stuttered, struggling to take breathes.
“I’m not disappointed” Khonshu stated, and Jake looked up at him questioningly “ I’m not disappointed that you hurt yourself”
Jake couldn’t hold back the flood barrier of tears, and suddenly the god was hugging him tightly, rocking him gently.
Khonshu hummed “Its alright…”
Jake sniffed, not bothering to hide his pain anymore. Not putting up the mask of calm- a fallacy that he was okay.
“Would you like to get some ice cream?” Khonshu asked
Jake couldn’t help it- the sheer absurdity of a god asking if he wanted ice cream like a dad would was too much. He laughed hysterically, before it started to fade into a real, true laugh.
It took a moment for Jake to realize that he was feeling happy.
“…yeah… yeah ice cream sounds nice” He replied, voice lighter than before
Ice cream sounded very nice.