No, no no no no no.Jackson shakes his head, refusing to be fooled by memories no matter how sweet. He faced the trauma of losing them once, he wouldn’t let himself be fooled into thinking he could have them again.
“Ravi, I-’’ Jackson began to speak, but the scene had changed. Ravi is still in front of him, but they are no longer in bed together. They were in a bar, one he knew far too well, in the heart of Greenwich Village. He spies a calendar on the wall, all the blood draining from his face when he sees the date.
June, 1969.
This is the night Jackson had tried so hard to bury from his memory.
When his shadows awakened in full fury.
The night he lost control, lost everything.
That fateful night when his heart would crumble into a million pieces when he saw the light leave Ravi’s eyes.
He couldn’t count the times he wished he never suggested going out that night.
“Ravi, we have to go. Now!” Jackson yells, grabbing at Ravi’s arm trying desperately to get away. But even with all his magic, Jackson can’t change the history that had been written. The memories come flooding back in like a burst dam.
A police raid gone wrong. A cover up by the magical bureau to make sure all traces of magic had been wiped from the scene, and a massacre that stained Jackson’s hands red for the rest of his life.
“Please, no,” Jackson begs, his voice broken as tears streamed down his face. “Please, stop this. Don’t make me remember. Don’t make me go through this again.” Jackson is powerless to stop as history repeats itself around him. The smell of copper souring the air, the feeling of life draining from the body going limp in his arms. The unquenchable rage that had begun to fester and burn in his very soul.
You could have stopped this, you had the power to end this before it dared begin.
Jackson can hardly breathe, hardly speak through the tears that choke out of him.
You shouldn’t be bound by the rules of the bureau, your magic far more ancient than they dare lay claim on.
“That’s how this works, I can’t just lash out and disturb the human realm. It is forbidden, there would be consequences.” The words burn as they leave Jackson. He doesn’t want to entertain the taunting voice.
Have you not paid your penance? Have you not suffered while those who wronged you live?
Jackson is confused, he had lashed out violently that night. Uniformed officers screamed, the streets of New York stained red by their blood.
Not them. HIM!
When Jackson next looks away from the body limp in his arms he seesDonnie, blackened eyes staring back at him.
“He’s not a threat, he didn’t win.”
Then why are you holding them in your arms?
This time Jackson looks down, his face screwing into a mask of horror. It’s Eddie, skin singed by dark flames. He hears whimpering from in front of him. Craning his neck up, his heart stops in his chest.
Hakeem was struggling to get away from a uniformed officer, one from that same night in 1969. “This isn’t right, this isn’t what happened.”
But it’s what could have happened. History repeats itself more often than you dare believe.
Now the images before him distort, the body in his arms shifting between Ravi and Eddie. The figure holding onto Hakeem is replaced with Donnie, then back to the police officer. It was then that Hakeem was replaced with an image of Tony, then Vinny in a blink of an eye. History was distorted in front of Jackson but the theme remained that same. He’s left holding the body of someone he truly cared for, while another who had become his peace was being forced away from him.
You could have stopped this.
“Shut up.”
You can still end this.
“This isn’t real.”
Your shadows can engulf the world, keeping those you love safe from harm.
