Terry Mcginnis (batman2point0) wrote in parabolical, @ 2009-05-12 11:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | terry mcginnis |
Who: Terry McGinnis [Narrative!]
What: inner demons. Everybody has them.
When: The day after finding out liquor doesn't fix life.
Where: his bed.
Warnings:TBA
Rating: lowish. Mentions of torture.
Deal with it..How did he even begin? He'd tried talking about it, that only temporarily dulled it. Arguing it out made everybody miserable. By far drinking it out was the worst idea he had yet. Now not only was his head throbbing, but memories were clearer. So the opposite of the results he'd wanted. Not only that? Bruce was..next to unreadable through it all except when it came to his obvious disappointment for Terry's drunken adventure. The one thing he did get loud and clear, by holding onto this he wasn't just hurting himself, he was hurting Bruce too. He didn't know how to sort through it all. How did one let go of being held captive for two weeks? Of being afraid with every movement that he'd do something wrong. He'd been trying to fight it off. Keep the memories from coming and put them behind a door in his mind next to things that didn't matter like home studies and physical pain..maybe that was his first mistake. Maybe he needed to learn not to fight it and just let it come, face his demons.
He wasn't invincible. He made mistakes. Admitting..That was the first step in recovery. The second was harder. Terry may not have been entirely there as the first endless week in captivity passed him by, but he remembered everything. Babs said he probably always would and she was right. Month's later after he thought he was over it, felt mentally stable and more like himself than he had in weeks, it all came flooding back violently. Only difference now was unlike the past, he couldn't let it consume him anymore. He was done being the Joker's puppet and doing what he wanted. Batman didn't play games, he was no different.
Maybe at least his bad judgment wouldn't be completely in vain. He realized what not dealing was doing. Day by day he was losing part of himself in blame and hatred. Losing himself in a mask. He was done. Terry couldn't keep everything inside anymore. He finally let himself remember. Every tiny detail, every sick, twisted sound of the clown's voice. The cold tile against his bare skin. For a moment his eyes closed tightly as he tossed in bed and curled into the sheets. It was too much, he couldn't do it on his own. He wanted too, that had to count for something didn't it? He needed help. Bruce might be the only one who could.