trans_9 | The worms crawl out...

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The worms crawl out...

Give it up. You lost. Get out of my head.

"No."

Really. Be reasonable. You have to climb out every three days and hang out in your swimming pool, or you're going to die. It's been two and a half already. Climb out like a good little slug-thing, and maybe I'll talk Brainy into building you a nice Habitrail.

"Maybe. I'm not taking that chance."

So--what? You're going to use my greymatter as your deathbed? Gross. Do you things rot in there, or do you ooze out when you die. Because rotting slugthing in my brain is just not something I want to deal with.

"I'm about to starve to death, and this is what you're worrying about?"

Don't expect me to be sympathetic. You took me over with no intention of ever giving me control of my own body again, and tried to kill my friends. I'll probably do a jig on your sluggly little grave.

"And here I thought you weren't going to turn into that psycho in your future."

I'm not--I won't.

"Delighting in the slow and painful death of another sentient creature? I don't know--sounds a lot like him to me."

...Why yes. Tim is strapped down to his bed, and it really does look like he's talking to himself.

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Of course, Dean's in the MedBay as usual. Lately, though, since Sam has been more stable, he's been walking around the area, helping out the best he can. So far he hasn't done much, but he's got a lot of spare time, what with his lack of a sleep schedule. So, making his rounds, so to speak, he pauses by Tim's bed.

"Hey, slugface. Quit tormenting the kid and just die already." Dean grumbles, irritated with life in general.

"My, aren't we charming today?" Tim says, opening his eyes to give Dean a cold smile. "And how's your brother doing? Did he wake up, or are his brains still scrambled?"

Dean's gaze hardens, and his answer is rather monotone, though the strain is obvious. "Nope, his brain's still scrambled. Thanks for asking."

A pause, and then a smirk. "Which brings me to my question. How are you feeling? Hungry?"

Tim's eyes narrow. "You're funny. Sam was funny, too. wonder if he'll still be able to string a sentence together if he wakes up."

Tim's Yeerk is doing a good job; the muscles in Dean's jaw twitch as he stares down at the kid. "Too bad you won't get to see it, slugface. I heard it's kind of hard to experience things when you're dead."

Tim sneers at him. "Maybe I'll get lucky enough that he'll wake up, and I can watch him drool all over himself."

"Yeah? Maybe I'll get lucky enough and be here when you do shrivel up and die. That way I can grind you into the floor with my shoe." Dean snaps angrily.

"Touchy," Tim says coolly. "I can't possibly be saying anything you haven't heard before."

"Shut up. Sam's stronger than you, you friggin' parasite, and you're just pissed he can survive a bullet and you can't live without a nice skinny-dipping in that damned pool of yours for three days."

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"Exactly what the hell is the point of this? You've lost. You know you've lost or else you wouldn't be resorting to poking at Robin's psyche." Danny asks.

Danny's voice makes Tim's head whip around and he glares at him, fighting his restraints. "You," he spits furiously. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."

"Yay. You remembered me. I'm touched." Danny says, completely monotone.

"Maybe next time you'll think twice before-oh, but that's right, there won;t be a next time. You'll be all dried out a shriveled up in about 12 hours."

Tim growls a little in frustration at his inability to escape. This host has been trained by one of his world's greatest escape artists--and he can't get free. He curses under his breath and glares. "I will get free, and I'll find a way to make you pay."

"So, do all you slugs get this delusional after going so long without food, or is it just you?"

"How healthy do you think you'd be feeling after a few days without food and water, huh?"

"Well that's your own fault isn't it? If you hadn't left the pool you wouldn't be slowly dying right now."

"I won't apologize for it."

"Hey. Sorry I wasn't around, I was explaining stuff to Kal. He's majorly confused right now--he came from the fight with Doomsday."

Superboy comes in and takes a seat, next to Tim's bed.

There's more to it than that. His not being here.

Tim turns and gives him a cold look. He's hurt, and tired, and in pain, and not at all excited about seeing the person he failed to kill.

"Oh. You."

Kon fiddles with his hands.

"You don't have to die, you know," he says to the Yeerk. "I know you don't trust us, but you leave and you have a chance. You stay in there and you're dead for sure."

Tim sneers at him. "Really." He jerks his head toward where Dean is pacing. "That one says he's looking forward to ending me, and is hoping to make it extra painful." He scoff at Kon. "So do you really think I want to give him the chance?" He shakes his head. "I won't be kept. I'm not a pet."

"He'd have to go through me, first."

A scowl. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not a bleeding heart for you little slugbrains like Blue Beetle is. I can't stand you for what you did to Rob. Part of me wants to see you squished into paste."

But...

"But I know when I want to do things like that, that they're the wrong thing to do. We don't kill. We don't let other people kill. Rob taught me that, over the years, to let that stuff go. He's one of the people that helped me not screw up like that. And if you really know all he knows, you know I'd actually protect you, as much as I want you to suffer for what you've done to him."

He shakes his head.

"And what I don't get is... I mean, we've got a twelfth-level genius here. Other nerds and techie types. If you wanted to live, if you wanted bodies--'cause being a slug probably, y'know, sucks, I get that--did you ever stop to think that they might be willing to build you ones? If you just asked us instead of taking what you wanted?"

"It's not how we do things," Tim says, frowning. "And there's a lot of information we wouldn't have access to if we did things your way. Our way is better.

"Besides--" He fixes Kon with a sharp look. "I've seen your future--what you become. It's not that different than what he'll become," he says. An abortive gesture with one hand indicates that he's talking about Tim. "You think I want to be a practice subject for that?"

"Your way takes away people's free will, it takes away their choices, which is even worse than taking away their lives, I can tell you that much. And okay, so you saw that possible future, right?"

Where the Titans had conquered half the country, where they'd murdered and inspired terror in even the innocent, where they had Raven suck the emotions out of people en masse so they couldn't feel. They were dictators in that possible future. Monsters. That world's "Superman" had been everything he feared he'd be because of Lex Luthor's DNA, everything he'd feared since the first timeline he'd seen where he'd gone evil.

"Your way is what the Titans were doing in all that. Conquering and making people slaves, making them live in fear. If you can see that and think it's wrong, and think 'I hope that's never done to me,' and see it from the victim end, why can't you see that you're all doing the same thing? Why can't you realize that other people feel the same way about you?"

His fists clench. "That's the difference between us and you: We don't think that's okay, we don't want to be that way--we're terrified of it and willing to fight to the death to prevent it from ever happening. I don't want to become what we saw, I don't want to be that Superman. I have to believe the future can change, and if it can't...I'd rather die than become that."

Ironic words, though he doesn't know it.

"Why don't you want to change? Why don't you want to not be that way? Why don't you want to be better?"

Interestingly Tim--the real Tim--feels the same way as Kon does about that future. The yeerk disagrees. They were in a position of power--why would they want to give that up to live the way they do now?

He shakes his head. "There's no point in being better," he tells Kon flatly. "The world doesn't work that way. You--your world and their costumed heroes? It's ridiculous. This guy?" A hand gesture indicates that he's speaking again about his host. "He throws everything into protecting the people of the city he lives in, and what does he get for it?"

He shakes his head again. "The city hates him--he got shot at by the police. And let's not forget--his father was murdered because he chooses to stick his neck out for other people. Because someone on your side of things wanted to teach heroes a lesson. That is what you get for being the 'bigger person.'

"Our way is better. Take what you can before it can be taken from you."

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