thearena | [Open] There's a devil in the church

Who| Jet and OPEN
What| The Gamemakers make sure Jet's getting punished for his actions
Where| Outside in some shade and then in the castle for the other two prompts
When| Tuesday-Thursday of Week 3
Warnings/Notes| Mentions of insanity throughout and reference to alcoholism in the last prompt. Feel free to tag any or more than one, if it interests you.

Ever since he'd been shoved into that tube still battered and bruised from the Peacekeepers, Jet had been expecting more, something awful that would rain down on him for his actions. They'd already been in the arena for nearly a month and there hadn't been much.

Sure, there were a few instances here and there, but not as much as he was expecting. Of course, when the beginning of the week rolled around and he tried to tug on that damn sword and all he'd gotten was terribly sick, he had to wonder if there'd even been a point in trying; something like that, the Gamemakers were sure to prevent him from even having a shot at, why reward someone you were trying to punish? That was what he thought about all that day as he recovered and questioned his life choices.

But that too went away after a bit and he couldn't stop the feeling that there had to be something worse around the corner, something he might not even see coming. Of course, part of the punishment could be just this: making him ridiculously paranoid, but he'd be surprised if that was really all that was in store for him.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

There's a smile, there and gone, flashing across Bucky's face when Jet tells him he trusts him. It's more than enough for Bucky to hear every time. He's not just a killer but someone trusted implicitly by others with their lives.

He's casting his eyes about again, looking for somewhere nearby to pull Jet that isn't on the glass-covered floor and settles for an alcove that looked to be relatively clear. "Come on." he says it quietly but firmly, putting his left hand on Jet's arm as he carefully stands and jerking his head towards the spot. "This way."

Get him settled, get him cleaned up and get him calmed down, he's fairly sure he can manage that.

He follows quietly, the crunching of glass beneath their feet the only sound. Well, no, if he listened hard enough he might be able to hear the pounding of his own heart as it went from beating against his chest to trying to jump up out of his throat.

He took that moment to asses his own damage now that he had the mind to do it. His gaze turned from tired to something far off, like he was zoning out. The read outs at the corners of his vision jumped into focus at the front. Everything looked normal, accelerated heart beat, systems returning to normal after using his accelerator, everything was in tact except for the little red notifier letting him know his hands were cut. No news there.

But for having just attacked a bunch of glass for audible and visual hallucinations, everything looked normal. It probably was just the arena if it didn't even register on his HUD. Then again, he'd never lost his mind before either, the HUD was mostly for assessing his own state of being and the area around him, who knew if it'd even measure anything bad going on with the human parts of his brain.

He followed Bucky into the alcove and returned his attention to his friend. There was something he wanted to ask, but it wasn't the most pleasant topic. Maybe he shouldn't. But who else was he going to ask?

"Have you ever hallucinated before?"

He means to ask Jet what he was hearing when they're sheltered, out of the way of glass and any eyes that might seek to look into the Cathedral's interior. No one will be sneaking up on them in here without Bucky picking up on them first. His intention is offset though by Jet talking to him before he can even open his mouth.

Bucky doesn't answer right away, reaching for one of Jet's hands first if he's allowed, turning it this way and that to examine the damage. Bucky doesn't always like being touched himself but Jet is a tactile person, more likely to draw comfort from touch than lack of it from what he knows.

Carefully he plucks out a piece of glass from sensitive joints before giving a slow nod. "Yes. I have."

Ghosts in the night, voices haunting him of people alive and long dead. It was worse back in the beginning but sometimes he still feels watched, like the ghosts are just waiting for him to let his guard down.

Jet didn't fight when Bucky took his hand and started to examine it. The touch was indeed welcome, it was grounding when, for a long moment, he'd questioned what was real and what wasn't.

It was also somehow comforting to hear Bucky knew what it was like. He didn't wish it on his friend at all, but he was willing to bet Bucky wouldn't have wished it on Jet either and yet here they are. Sometimes you punched the wrong guy in the face and it led to questioning your sanity. Shit happened.

He winced as the glass was removed but didn't say anything about it otherwise. "What'd you do about it? I mean...you don't have to tell me what it was or how you felt about it, but what'd you do after? Did anything help?"

Shit happened a lot.

Bucky frowns as he picks out a shard of glass, throwing it over his shoulder to land with a multitude of its breathren, thinking about the question. "... this. Having someone, or something nearby, real. Someone to tell me what's real. Something real to focus on."

A voice or a touch, an object that he knew was there for certain as a way to block the delusions out. "It helps you tell the difference sometimes, not always."

He won't lie and say it always worked, sometimes he'd just had to sit back and let it happen, suffering through until it was done.

[Open] There's a devil in the church

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