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Summary
“You need to let this kind of anger burn out, Joker. This isn’t fucking good for you. Let me help.”
Akira is flailing, fingers curled into claws that reach for but just barely connect with Goro’s mask. “I can… handle this—my… self…,” he whines, the ailment dissolving again and a weak, determined desperation flooding the gaps. Goro’s thumbs shift sideways to haul him up and slam him back into the ground. He’s yelling, now, and it’s lilting into something just as desperate, almost as afraid.
“Stop. You’re killing yourself. You can’t suppress this amount of—”
“—I’m gonna kill you.”
An unstoppable force meets a second unstoppable force.
