Chapter Text
Chills rattled over him as he walked through the giant door. Inside the building was even colder than outside. Cement walls, dark corners, and faint shrieking heard every few moments. Jerome wrung his hands.
He felt really small right now. So small, that he wanted to tell Mrs. Peabody that he changed his mind. He didn’t care about why he felt so guilty about Bruce Wayne anymore. He just wanted to go back home.
“Well, come on,” Mrs. Peabody urged. “We haven’t got all day. There is someone I want you to meet.”
Jerome nearly ran to catch up with her. “Who is it?”
The slightest of smiles crossed her lips. Jerome barely noticed it.
“A colleague of mine.”
They stopped at an elevator and Jerome was urged in. It creaked and shuddered as it took them far down until eventually, it stopped. Mrs. Peabody led him through winding hallways.
“Ah, here we are.”
She nudged him through a door, closing it behind her. The dirty, white walls of the room loomed over him. It was empty except for a funny-looking gurney in the middle of it surrounded by wires and machines. There was a man also.
He felt Mrs. Peabody lightly grabbed onto his shoulders. “Jerome, meet Dr. Strange.”
He was bald and wore big, round glasses. Jerome noticed his nice suit. The man grinned, clasping his hands behind his back.
“Hello,” Strange said.
“Hi,” he mumbled. Something was funny about this guy. Strange made him more nervous than this place did.
“I cannot say how delighted I am to finally get to meet you, Jerome.”
“Okay…”
Weird.
“You, child, are a scientific breakthrough.”
Huh? “I am?”
“Yes!” He motioned towards the gurney. “Have a seat.”
Jerome swiped his eyes to the cot then back to Strange. Something about this felt off. He just didn’t know what. “I’m fine with standing.”
“Jerome,” Mrs. Peabody started but the man interrupted.
“No, no.” He said with a smile. “I understand. This machine doesn’t look very comfortable, does it?”
Jerome stared, not replying.
“Mrs. Peabody has told me you’re having some trouble. You can’t remember some things.” He patted the gurney. “I can help with that.”
“How is that going to help me remember anything?” He scoffed.
“I designed this myself- with Mrs. Peabody’s help of course. Guided by the work of a man named Dwight Pollard.”
The scientist squinted, gazing far off. “Brilliant work from such a deranged mind. His motives to build such a machine,” Strange turned his gaze to Jerome, looking oddly. “…were unusual.”
Jerome had no idea what he was talking about, but he didn’t like the way he sounded. This guy was giving him the creeps!
“You have no need to worry, Jerome. This treatment will help you remember.”
“Really?” Jerome laughed in disbelief.
“Yes.” Strange nodded. “In fact, just a few days ago this treatment proved successful. I ran the test myself. The outcome was just as I suspected.”
“It helped them remember?”
“Something like that, yes. The opposite.”
He eyed the machine suspiciously. “And once I remember you’ll take me back to the station?” He asked Mrs. Peabody, looking up at her.
“Of course.”
He wanted to believe Jim and Harvey. They said he hadn’t done anything wrong to Bruce, but the pit in his belly told him otherwise, and this might be the one chance he’s got to ever find out. He just gotta put on his big-boy pants and ignore how nervous this place made him feel.
“Okay, I‘ll do it.”
~~~~~~~~~~
No, no, stop it.
He wiped off the wetness building in his eyes. He didn’t have time for it. Jerome was still out there while Jim was stuck here, at the station. There weren’t any more leads that they hadn’t already searched through twice. Every time stopping at a dead end.
All he could do now that seemed useful was look over the file that woman had sent during her interview. The woman that he hired.
Jim shoved the file to the floor. Nothing in it would help anyways. It was all lies. Lies that Jim fell for. He had led Jerome right into the trap.
Jim scrubbed his hands through his hair. Bright red flashed in the corner of his eye. A coloring book. His breath quivered as he pulled the book closer. He thumbed through the pages, chuckling at the messy coloring and silly captions Jerome had added in each one.
There was a stack of papers tucked in the back of the book. Five staples scattered the right corner. Jerome must’ve stabled groups of them at different times. These pages weren’t colored or drawn in. Two or three were word searches, but most were mazes.
Jim wondered why Jerome was saving these but tucked the stack back where he found it. He’s terrified of never getting the chance of asking him about them, so he closed the book before any drops of tears could stain the pages.
He’s pushing the book away just as Lucius barges through the door.
“Jim.”
Lucius breathed heavily as he hung onto the door. His excitement spurred Jim’s, and he jumped out of the seat. Hope and dread lifted inside his chest, squeezing his heart, as he waited for the good or bad news Lucius had.
“I found her- Mrs. Peabody.” Lucius went on. “Back in college, one of my professors had a few colleagues. I thought she looked familiar, but I hadn’t thought until now. Her name really is Peabody, Jim. I know she’s close to Hugo Strange. I think I might know where he’s at.”
Jim could’ve held on to the fact that he was an utter idiot. That he couldn’t believe he’d been tricked so easily, and he could’ve allowed the guilt to take over his mind, but he didn’t. He knew where Jerome was now, or at least, he had a good guess.
~~~~~~~~~~
Mrs. Peabody handed him a pair of black and white striped pajamas and pulled a curtain from a corner Jerome hadn’t noticed before. The pajamas were way too big for him, but his teacher said that it was fine even if Jerome was tripping on them.
The dirty pajama shirt had a patch on one side of the chest.
C-193
He wondered what that meant and asked why he had to change, but she shrugged like she was annoyed and answered, “Tradition? Hurry up.”
Lights blinked beside his head as the machine whirred to life. He tried to calm himself down before he panicked. Dr. Strange had put something on his head and poked him with wires on his arms and legs. Jerome couldn’t see them, but he heard the two adults talking somewhere near.
He wanted to sit up and see, but bright lights were shining in his eyes and he was strapped to the gurney, stuck. It’s fine, he told himself. This is how you’ll get your memories back. Maybe more memories. Who knows?
More beeping started, and Jerome felt a little funny.
“He seems to be having the same reaction as the first subject, Sir,” Mrs. Peabody spoke from his side somewhere.
“As expected,” Strange answered. “They do share the same DNA. This is a reversal operation, however. I imagined we see a bit more of a difference.”
He wanted to hear more, trying to figure out what they were talking about, but he couldn’t seem to concentrate. Bright blurring flashes filled his sight as he started feeling dizzy. He felt more than dizzy. Aches and sharp pains throbbed nearly everywhere as something squeezed and poked his brain.
Memories flashed in his mind. An axe covered in blood. Blood was everywhere. On his face, across his teeth, on the bodies of cops and others. He was with a man and a group of people. They were on a rooftop and he was laughing. He saw Bruce Wayne. Jerome was taller than him, telling him to come up on stage.
He saw Jim. Harvey was there too, but something was different. They looked and sounded different. He heard Jim shout hatefully at him then Jerome’s mind slipped away.
~~~~~~~~~~
Jim ran through the hallways. Harvey was right behind him. His gun felt heavy in his grip as he turned corners and busted through doors, hoping to find Jerome but dreading the possibility that he might be too late.
Strange must have found out about the age reversal. It’s the only reason Jim could think of why he was doing this. He was scared, scared for Jerome. Who knows what sort of tests or experiments the kid will go through?
He ran down another hallway. Each room was empty, and Jim started to feel his patience slipping away. Then shouts came from somewhere in another hall. A cop yelled out, waving at them to follow. Hugo Strange was pushed against the wall, handcuffed. His assistant was in the same position beside him.
“Sir,” an officer stood between them and the open door.
It was the last room in the corridor. The officer looked at him and Harvey like he’d just seen a ghost.
Jim’s heart plummeted.
He was too late.
“What?” Harvey asked with a crack in his voice. The man didn’t have time to answer. Harvey pushed passed him to the room. Jim followed, nearly tripping on Harvey’s heels.
Jim didn’t dare breathe. He couldn’t. A machine just like the one Jim had picked a lifeless, little Jerome up from a year ago was here, but the body on it wasn’t little anymore.
“Oh, God.” Harvey gasped.
Jim didn’t register walking forward, but suddenly he was there, standing over the bed. Bright lights shining above only made him look more lifeless, and the striped patient uniform pushed Jim back in the past. Memories of seeing Jerome in these exact clothes weren’t good ones.
There was a scar on his neck. Jim swallowed, remembering how he got it. Jerome had nearly killed Bruce that day. The day he died. Jim had hated him then with the rest of his criminal gang. He never would have thought how much Jerome would eventually mean to him.
Harvey’s hands rested on the other side of the bed, inches from a striped-covered arm. Their gazes met, and he looked just like Jim felt- terrified, confused, hurt. His little boy was gone.
Jim’s hand stretched out, trembling. Fingers ghosted over Jerome’s neck. There, he felt a faint pulse, and Jim jerked his hand back, sucking in a breath as if he’d just been underwater.
“He’s alive.”