laurielewis

[laurielewis]

The Batman & Scooby-Doo Mysteries #5 - "A Game of Hyde and Seek!" (2024)

written by Matthew Cody art by Puste

[laurielewis]

"Cool..." Laurie says, nodding a little too enthusiastically. And suddenly, he hears the way the 'cool' sounds. Maybe it's all in his head but a wave of panic crashes into him as his mind is consumed with the possibilities that he might have come across as disingenuous or awkward. So, he abruptly tacks on another, "Cool."

Asher's offer couldn't have come at a better time, and perhaps Laurie jumped too quickly on it. "Yeah, please." Laurie isn't sure why it's like this. There have been many people he'd caught up with that he hadn't seen for a long time, but none of them felt this awkward. In an effort to bridge some of the distance, he says, "You know what, what do you drink these days? I'll have one of those."

Laurie takes out his wallet and hands Asher the cash for the beer. "Thanks, dude." Maybe they just need time. One evening, a lot of beers, and it'll feel like they were sixteen again. Even if they are the types of friends that only reminisce about the past, he doesn't think that'd be too bad. The question, however, makes him wonder if maybe he's being too hopeful. "It'd be wild if I didn't. I work at the Sheriff's Office now." Thanks for asking! "But yeah, it's--..." He looks over his shoulder at the teenagers who are still gossiping about the case. "I shouldn't talk about an open investigation but whoever did it is one messed up guy." He shakes his head. "I'm hoping to get on the case." He really, really wants to find the culprit. "Did you, uh, did you know the victim?"

it’s not that he wants to turn around and run back into the kitchen the second he spots laurie at the bar. he just wants to turn around and run back into the kitchen! not because he’s been sort of avoiding him or anything, of course. he’s just been sort of avoiding him!

if things have been awkward since asher’s return to salem, they have gotten even worse after he was beaten up, killed, and brought back to life by the hands of gwen bellerose. how do you even deliver this news to your estranged lifelong best friend? ‘hey, i know we haven’t talked much in a while, but guess what? i was murdered and now i’m an undead demon that needs to drink blood to survive!’?

but now that asher has already seen him, the only thing he can do is go serve him. he would only be making things worse if he point-blank avoided laurie. plus, he doesn’t even really want that… he misses laurie. even if he is sick and tired of all the moralism, the political correctness, and the endless lectures about how he should quit dealing – and doing – drugs. or how he shouldn’t be putting his life in danger (no need to worry about that anymore!) and blah blah blah…

and maybe it’s for the best that they’ve grown apart. just a few days later, a tall, beautiful, blonde stranger would be threatening to slit his throat right open. so maybe at least laurie would be safe from this shitstorm that perpetually follows him around now.

“just started last month.” he quickly says, before laurie is even finished asking. “another beer?” he wants to buy time. to disguise the fact that he doesn’t know what to say to him. what does he even have in common with him anymore? what do they talk about? it’s a shitty realization, yes. but what can you do?

and, as he sets a refilled pint before him, he goes for the worst possible alternative: talking about current events. there is nothing that says ‘i have NO IDEA what to say to you’ more! “have you heard anything about this chopped-up person thing?” not to mention asher himself had been responsible for the murder, so it would be nice to know if there was anything he should be worrying about…

[laurielewis]

It all happened too quickly. One second, Laurie is revelling at the fact that Vivienne had called him 'a babe' as she takes his hand, and within a blink, she is sprawled across his lap. The impact from her fall makes the boat rock side to side and a small wave of water splashes onto them, but mostly onto Laurie's face. The unexpected burst of cold surprisingly relaxes him a little. "No, don't worry," he can't help the soft chuckle that escapes him, hands on either side of her from when he'd tried to catch her, as he brings a shoulder up to wipe the water droplets from his cheek. "It's probably too slippery. They really should put a mat down there." A hand reaches out to gingerly pull one of hers away from her face, not wanting her to be embarrassed. "Are you okay?"

Laurie is about to pop his head over Vivienne's to call out to Dan: Hey Dan! You should put a mat down here! Or mop it up! It's a safety hazard! But then she turns and her face is so close to his that he forgets what he was supposed to do altogether. In fact, if she'd asked, he wouldn't even remember his own name. She pulls him into a light trance with that look alone, so much so that he forgets to breathe, and all he can do is stare dumbly into her eyes. "You're really, very beautiful." The words slipped out of him, quiet and inconspicuous. He didn't even realise he'd said them until a few beats later.

Oh God. Ashley. What was he doing? This was not okay. And Vivienne, she'd trusted him to make her feel safe, and now he had his hands on her! He even worried about what Dan must be thinking.

Before he manages to do anything, however, a crackling sound echoes behind them but it's her reaction that makes him jump. Instinctively, he holds her in place as his head snaps over his shoulder to look around them. There was nothing there. God, help me, he thinks to himself, as he could feel her breath against his neck. "I can't see anything, there's nothing there," he reassures, gently patting her back. Dammit, she could probably feel how fast his heart was racing. "It was probably just a branch."

Pulling back slightly so that their faces would not be that close again, he turns to look at her. "I think, to be safe, you should sit in your seat before we get going. Just so the boat is balanced. I wouldn't want you falling in the water." He smiles softly at her, supportive even, as a fan, of course. "I think your nerves are a little frayed. Why don't you tell me your favourite song and I can tell Dan to put it on for you whilst we go through the tunnel?"

Vivienne glanced at his features; satan, he was pretty. His skin was smooth, brown eyes that almost had a hint of green in them and, ah, he was so blissfully naïve. The witch almost wanted to lick his face, maybe she still could. A little desert? A little offering?

Time would tell.

"You're such a babe." She smiled sweetly at him. Could he be of use to her? IT was always good to have the cops under one's belt, was it not? Not that he really would give her anything she couldn't do herself, and yet... She wanted him. She wanted him to keep playing her knight in shining armour. He'd definitely get a kick out of it, surely.

Did he have a wife? While looking at him with her doe eyes, she searched his brain and surely enough, there she was. That only made the corners of her lips curve further into a smile. Mister Lewis just became her favourite.

Ah, of course he got into the boat first. What a gentleman. So fly, as Marty McFly liked to say himself. Back to the future, but she was going to show him more than that. Taking his hand, Vivienne purposely lost her balance, falling right into his lap. "Oh my god, I'm such a clutz." She covered her face with her hands, feigning the embarrassment, even her cheeks went slightly pink. "I'm so sorry." She tried, in a very loose term, to move off of him, but instead, she turned her face so it was barely inches away from his. "No, the lights aren't scarey at all." Vivienne blinked, slowly, giving him a look that said I'm seeing you for the first time in my life. One she had mastered, giving the amount of movies she had done.

"Love, you say?" The witch fluttered her eyelashes at Laurie, as her arm hooked around his neck for support. Yeah, he could do the work and float them through the water, but she could do her own job.

"I don't think anyone would try to hurt me when you're around." She smiled at him.

There was a sound just then, truthfully, Vivienne wasn't even sure what it was, but she used the opportunity, nonetheless. Quickly, she put her other arm around his neck, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. "What was that?" She whispered.

[laurielewis]

At Daphne's answer, Laurie realises how stupid his question had been. Who in their right mind would say: yes, Sheriff, I have been drinking and driving? So her denial does little to deter him, though he's relieved she doesn't protest and make things difficult. He never enjoys having to be stern with those who refuse to cooperate.

As she steps out of the car, Laurie starts to feel a little embarrassed as the question he'd asked echoes in his mind. He tries not to let it show in his expression, however, as he keeps a straight face that is equally sympathetic. She holds herself well, certainly someone who has a lot of experience standing in front of a camera. Perhaps from voice alone, he'd be convinced she did have a drink, but she moves like there's an audience waiting to give her a standing ovation.

He blinks, taken aback by her enthusiasm. One, two, three... Maybe she wasn't drunk. Four, five, six... Okay, he got the point. Then, at her sudden movement, he starts to chase after her as a hand reaches out in front of him, afraid of what she's about to do. "Ma'am!"

........ Did she just cartwheel? Laurie's brought to an abrupt halt. His jaw drops as he stares at her with wide eyes in stupefaction. "Uh..." He blinks, again. His mind went blank. A cartwheel? There was nothing in the books about a cartwheel. He supposes he could count them as three steps, taking her up to nine. He should now ask her to walk back nine steps but now he fears she'll just cartwheel three times back towards him. His mouth had almost dried up from how long he'd been staring. "That's..." He takes in a deep inhale. "That's fine, ma'am. That was... good."

She is perhaps the strangest person he has ever pulled over and that was saying a lot considering the type of people that lived in Boston. "I, um, I still am going to have to ask you to take a breathalyser test." A beat. "To be sure." Which he now doesn't really want to do but it was the process. "So, if you could just follow me." Scratching the back of his neck, he takes them to his car. He reaches through the window and pulls out the device. "Please blow into thi--" No, he couldn't do that. Cheeks flush red and his ears felt hot. He decides to hand her the device instead of holding it up for her. "Please take this and blow into it until I tell you to stop. If you could, just, stick to that, please, that'd be--"

Suddenly, they're interrupted by low rumbling as the ground beneath them begins to violently shake, as if they're navigating the waves of a stormy sea. Cracks tore through the pavement as their cars rocked back and forth. Laurie looks up to see the trees swaying aggressively, trying his best to keep his balance. A wave of panic surges through him as he realises an earthquake has struck. "We need to move," he urges, a hand on her back as he guides her away from the powerline pole they're standing next to.

Daphne’s fingers had moved steadily as she rummaged through her new bag, a recent purchase that she had carefully selected to mimic the look of a Gucci she had admired in the latest edition of CLEO. She hadn’t been able to afford the real thing, but she had done her best to find one that looked just as stylish and luxurious.

“Thank you,” she had said with a confident smile, appreciating the compliment. It was just a bag, yet the way he had noticed it... he seemed like the kind of man who paid attention to details, who saw beyond the surface. “It’s from a little shop downtown,” she had added, her tone casual, lingering over the moment as if to prolong the connection.

But the scene shifted quickly when the bottle of tequila fell out of her bag. She had stared at him, observing his reaction, a flicker of surprise and dismay crossing his face. The insinuation hung in the air, but she hadn’t felt shame. She had felt challenged, and she was ready to meet it.

“No, I haven’t been drinking!” she had asserted, her voice firm and clear. “It’s for a party I’m going to…” Despite her composed demeanor, she knew she had to comply with the officer’s request. As she opened the car door and stepped out, the cool night air wrapped around her, a stark contrast to the warmth of her resolve. God forbid I show up without bringing a drink, she thought. It wasn’t in her nature to arrive empty-handed, especially to a social gathering.

“Tip to toe, huh?” she had said with a touch of challenge in her voice. She was determined to prove herself. Starting slowly, she placed one foot in front of the other, aligning her steps with precision. Each heel touched each toe, and she counted out loud, her voice strong and unwavering. “One, two, three…” Her arms were firm at her sides, her focus solely on maintaining balance and making each step deliberate and accurate. “Four, five, six…”

Then, with a sudden burst of energy, she took a running leap forward. The rest of the counts were completed in a dazzling display of agility as she cartwheeled herself to an imaginary line that she knew would satisfy his request.

With a flip of her hair, Daphne turned back to face him, smiling and folding her arms across her chest. “I hope that satisfies your disbelief,” she said, her voice tinged with a mix of defiance and amusement. She stood there, unshaken and ready for whatever came next.

[laurielewis]

Bambi? Laurie can't tell whether she's joking or not, but he'll give her the benefit of the doubt. He'd have thought the other people, or herself, would've given her the better reality check. But if Bambi works for her, then so be it. "Yes. Exactly." He nods firmly once. "It would be a terrible thing to live with. And you can avoid it by driving within the limit." They were there for a reason!

From the way she looked, he could tell that he was getting through to her, at least somewhat. Due care exists for a reason. Everyone ought to take responsibility for not putting other people at risk by their own actions. It wasn't a hard thing to understand. He figures she'd already known this but a gentle reminder never hurt anyone. And, in this case, it might've just saved a life. All in a hard day's work, he thinks to himself. To prevent harm is just as important as catching those who caused it.

"That's okay, ma'am," he reassures earnestly. "Take your time." He hopes he hasn't rattled her to the point of finding it difficult to find her own purse. He didn't want to be that kind of presence in the community. So, he comments, "It's a nice bag."

Whatever civility he'd maintained during this interaction is quickly swept away as the bottle of tequila falls out of her bag. "Ma'am," he says, which sounds a lot like: Really? "Have you been drinking?" Appalled. Utterly appalled. This was a total disregard for basic courtesy and respect. A short sigh escapes him, and he steps back from the car as he puts away his notepad and pen.

"Please step out of the vehicle," he requests, as calmly as possible, trying not to let the irritation seep into his tone. "I'm going to have to ask you to walk in a straight line and back. Nine steps, heel-to-toe. Please count each step out loud and keep your arms to the side."

Behind dark lashes and blue eyes, something was stirring. Something Daphne hadn't felt since Brian—oh, and Charles, and Malcolm—but Brian was the significant one here. Yes, something new was taking shape. Could this be her dashing, sweet, yet rugged man for whom she had recently depleted her pantry's entire herb selection to conjure up? Had God—or as Vivienne insisted, Satan—finally listened and sent her the protector she'd longed for? The man who'd guide her through life with a dazzling smile and those big, rough, capable hands of his?

"Oh, my… I'd hate to take out Bambi…" She did feel a pang of guilt now that he had framed it that way, but mostly she was fixated on the fact that he was doing this to protect her. He didn't want to see her get hurt. How romantic.

She felt a flutter of nerves, the excited kind. Her job might not be the career she dreamed of, but if she found love in the arms of such a handsome sheriff, she could wait another year or two for the rest to fall into place.

"Sure, Offi—Sheriff, I'll just get my—" Registration, glove box… and license… handbag… somewhere beneath these witch robes…

He was precisely her type. She could already picture them raising little Bobby and Susan in a big house on Salem's grounds. She'd do the weather forecast at night and take the kids to school in the morning. On weekends, she'd whip up a nice big steak dinner for her man, and they'd hire a nanny to tuck the kids in early so she could spend the night hearing about his busy and possibly dangerous day that he faced with wits, strength, and a badge.

"Sorry, new handbag…" A reminder that a black purse inside a black handbag is a recipe for disaster. As she rummaged through her things, a bottle of tequila—intended for her fellow witches (it was a party, after all)—slipped out of her bag and rolled onto the car floor, right in front of the sheriff. "It’s in here somewhere, I swear."

[laurielewis]

"And you're still such a flatterer." The way he keeps his eyes on Jules betrays the words he does not yet say: I can't believe you're really here. After the radio silence that followed her departure, their time together had been marked with a dog-ear. She'd become the kind of pages you go back to when you want to laugh. He won't get ahead of himself, though. Not this time. She was probably just passing through.

"But, if I remember correctly, you also left without saying a word. Was that also a gesture?" And then, to let her know he wasn't truly holding it against her, convinced she had her reasons, he holds his hands up and lets out a laugh. Embarrassingly, he had called and he had written, though the letter never made it through the bottom of her door when her neighbour told him she'd packed up her bags. "Sorry, I had to bring it up once. First and last time, though. Promise." And he means it. Especially when he doesn't know how much time they have.

Everything about Laurie Lewis has been imprinted on her mind for... too long. That smile, the unmistakable warmth of his spirit, an earnestness which seems to emanate from every pore. He feels like standing in the sun; the epitome of solid and good. But Jules, ever prone to a mild shade of self-destruction, is so rarely careful with nice things. Setting him back on the shelf before he broke was probably a merciful act, in retrospect.

"That makes two of us." Her rolling stone nature isn't a secret and for now he appears to acknowledge it kindly. Undeserved, but she'll take his good humor until it runs dry. "Actions speak louder than words. And what can I say, I like to make a gesture." How easily she slips right back into once familiar banter.

[laurielewis]

who: Laurie & @ashxrdavenport when: 5th June 1989 where: Bar where Asher works

Did you hear? There was another bear attack. Must be a hungry bear. Maybe if people left the bears alone they wouldn't need to attack. I could probably take the bear. You'll end up like the cut-up body they found in the river. Gross! I'm eating.

A heavy sigh quietly leaves him, and Laurie, rather uncharacteristically, takes large gulps of his beer until his glass is empty. Glancing up, he looks for a bartender to order another.

"Oh, hey," Laurie greets, unable to hide the surprise on his face when Asher appears behind the bar. "I didn't know you--" Well, why would he? Outside of the sporadic updates from his mom and sister-in-law, which were usually of the negative kind, he didn't know anything about what Asher's life looked like now. Arrested in New York, back in Salem, another black eye. The desire to reach out was always there. Laurie never forgot what Asher was to him once, the kind of friend that helped the other out without a second thought. But people grow apart. He knows that now. He just doesn't know why it makes him feel so sad. "How long have you been working here?"

@ashxrdavenport

[laurielewis]

"She called the house ten times," Laurie complains into his radio to Kaya. "Ten times!" Slow nights usually involved some sort of rant or debate between the two of them. Long gone are the days of tin cans and a long string to discuss whatever was on their minds whilst apart. Once Laurie had gotten over the fear of how unprofessional it was, especially whilst driving, he hadn't shut up.

"And I know what you're going to say, or I know what you're not saying, but--" Suddenly a flash of red zooms past him. That was definitely over the limit, at least 120 mph. Ridiculous, inconsiderate and so dangerous. Finally, his time to shine. "Gotta go. Got a speeder."

Turning his car around, the sirens were on and he sped up to catch up. No, he shouldn't judge a person by their car, but as he parked behind the flashy red RX-7, he couldn't help but roll his eyes. Typical. Enough money to not care about a flimsy speeding ticket, endangering the lives around them.

"Good eve-" When the window rolls down and he sees Daphne Brooks sitting in the car, his initial thought is: Oh God. He hadn't been the most pleasant to her on the opening day of the Carnival. Perhaps he could be less hostile this time around. Maybe she has a good reason. A dying grandmother, perhaps? But her ignorance screams pretend to him, and that almost annoys him more than the speeding itself.

"Ma'am--" A dip of the head as he shoots her a look with raised brows. "You were going at least 120..." Bewilderment strains his features. How did she think this was acceptable? "...in a 60 zone. Not only are you putting your life at risk, but the other motorists and the animals that cross this road as well." Turning the page of his notepad, he scribbles his pen in the top corner to check it's still working. "License and registration, please."

Who: Daphne Brooks & Laurie Lewis When: 6 June 1989 (My Lordy) Where: A road on the outskirts of Salem. Type: Closed

She was late. Actually, thirty minutes ago she was late; now she was LATE. She put her foot to the floor of the leased RX-7. Her witch robes, courtesy of her best friend and blood sister, Vivienne, were almost flying out of the passenger seat, but she'd grabbed them just in time. She didn't blame herself, of course. She blamed Rob. An absolute baboon of a man. A walking cardiac arrest who was unable to tell the difference between 10 p.m. and 11:00 p.m., for whatever reason. Something about actually telling him 10:00, but Daphne didn't believe him.

With the tip of her heel to the ground, Daphne hit new records never before seen on the roads of Salem as she rushed her way to the obscure directions she'd received earlier: "Near the woods, the goat will guide you and your sisters to the fires of hell." She hoped they hadn't meant it literally, because one, she wasn't ready to leave this world just yet; two, wasn't hell meant to be all work and no play? Sure, Vivienne made it sound like a palace, but she was still new to this whole thing, and her grandparents' old pastor was a pressing reminder to maybe read the contract a little more deeply. And last, she really hoped the fires of hell wouldn't clash with her already fiery red dress.

A sudden burst of crimson light, much to Daphne's dismay, elicited a curse from her lips. "Fuck" she muttered under her breath. Lifting her foot off the accelerator, she gently pressed down on the brake, gradually bringing her vehicle to a halt and pulling over to the side of the road. Technically, she could have continued driving; her RX had the power to outrun the situation. However, as the aspiring leading Weatherwoman for News Watch, she couldn't afford the risk of a court appearance—especially not her own.

After quickly checking her makeup in the rearview mirror, Daphne rolled down the window and adopted an innocent tone. "Oh my, was I really going that fast?" she exclaimed, feigning surprise.

[laurielewis]

A shaky breath, nodding. "You called." She smiles at him like she's happy to see him. This almost breaks him. He can't remember the last time she smiled at him like that. It must’ve been years ago, back when he was undeserving. Still, undeserving. But she also smiles at him like it's going to be her last, and this forces him to pull himself together. And so, through glassy eyes and trembling lips, Laurie tries his best to smile back. "No, no, no," he shakes his head, cradling her in his arms. "Don't even think it." A blood-stained hand wipes away a tear falling down his cheek. "You're going to be okay. Just- stay with me, okay?"

There must be other people on their way. Laurie didn't believe that he was the first person she called. But it also didn't make sense for him to arrive on the scene before her brothers. Where were they? Why weren't they here? But she was losing so much blood. They didn't have time.

"I'm going to take you to the hospital. They'll work on you and you're going to be okay. Just stay with me, Mags. Please." It took all the strength and courage in him to keep his voice calm, so that gentle words could offer comfort instead of causing more panic. "Who did this to you? What happened? Can you tell me that?" He had to keep her talking. Meanwhile, Laurie strips off his plaid shirt and tears the sleeve off, tying it tightly around her shoulder above the deep wound. The remainder of the fabric was placed on her side and he brings her hand over it to hold it in place. "Can you keep pressing this, here, for me?"

Lifting her up from the porch, Laurie carries Mags in his arms and rushes over to his car, silently praying to God to let her live. Please don’t take her away, she has so much love to give. He gingerly places her down into the passenger seat, adjusting the seat so she could be laid down. When he goes around the car, he lets out a fast succession of deep breaths, as if releasing some of the fear he'd been holding in. Once in the car, the engine roars once again as he races to the hospital.

They weren’t too far away now. He looks over at her, checking to see if she's still conscious. "Mags… Mags,” He reaches over the squeeze her hand, eyes back on the road. “Do you remember what you told me when I fell out of a tree?” Trying to get her kite.

Blood. The distinct taste of metal coated the inner flesh of her mouth, shrill screams reverberating against the husks of pines and maples. Nails dig into the dirt, the foundation of the grave the creature dragged her to. The phone dropped somewhere in the shrubberies, and she prayed he'd heard her. Prayed to a God, prayed to whatever Deity listened, prayed to everybody. There's no strength in her arms, not enough to pull her out of the prison claws keep her in. They dug, broke skin from shoulder to side, bone breaking under the weight another forced on her leg. She could not scream louder, could not cry to the heavens with more fervor and desperation. 

Maybe they'd listened, the disgusting sound of metal machinery clasping onto the flesh of whatever planned to devour, an Angel's song. The pressure lessened, and an act of God would not go useless. She should have not insisted that her father get rid of these things, and she is blessed that he did not listen. It is with a blinding pain that she stood on injured leg, vision blurred from the cut upon her head, and the wind carved into the exposed wound like the dragging of a blade.

Safety. Body gave out form underneath, slamming into the wooden porch unceremoniously. Every inch of her was set ablaze, caught in a pyre, a Witch from the town's grim history. Her eyes rolled, head heavy, unfocused as thoughts began to spin a million miles an hour. A bleeding idol laid on family home, tortured cries ringing softer yet no less loud.

How could her heart not soar, upon the sight of savior. Savior, her final sight. Both a welcomed outcome, for if she were to die now, it would be in the arms of her first, and only. Ill fitting, the angelic smile on her lips when she realized - He'd heard her. "Laurie... You came."

[laurielewis]

As Laurie flicked through the pages in the folder, she took to picking at her nails. Prudence was in desperate need of a manicure, while she typically enjoyed the sensation of the crimson substance caked beneath each of her fingernails, she found it hard to bask when there were such pained expressions adorning both sheriffs’ features. She hadn’t initially recognized the man, but once she had confirmed his identity with the help of records from the local dentist, she realized he had been just another unsuspecting townie; like Magdalena Sparrow. Flexing her fingers out before her, Pru cocked her head, brows knitting together in a faux expression of confusion. “What a statistic that is, hm? Two bear attacks in two weeks?” Raising her brows, she held an extended palm in his direction, fingers wiggling to signal him to return the folder. Pulling at each page until she found the one she’d been looking for, she held up the folder and positioned herself between Laurie and Kaya. “Bears have five toes –claws– on each paw,” she dragged her finger down four of the lines that marked the flesh in the photo, flesh that was hidden beneath the privacy sheet covering him from the chest down, “but for bears, the fifth claw is directly in line with the other four. Whereas this bear seems to leave marks where the fifth claw is lower, the slashes are almost– grasp marks, like it was trying to keep him from running away while it disembowled and mutilated him.” Pru had lowered the folder now, her eyes on the body before them, vision glazed over just a bit while she spoke. Turning to them now, the body to her back, she smiled. “There cannot logically be another cause of death,” Prudence plopped the folder back onto her work desk and laughed, her tone dark and sour, but just light enough to drip no conviction into her words. “Unless you believe in monsters.”

@buffynpcs-cursed

[laurielewis]

@ashxrdavenport

Stand by Me 1986, dir. Rob Reiner

[laurielewis]

The wind rips through the tunnel, scattering the empty can that her partner had just kicked to the side. "Should we tackle Mr. and Mrs. Stewart first?" She pauses, a thought hitting her like a ton of bricks. "You know, Laurie, pretty sure he's got a kid now… a fucking baby." She hated this part of the job. Anyone who said they could handle it was lying. Of course, their training had prepared them for it—at least on paper—but it all fell apart when you had to go and tell someone's wife and kids that their husband and father wouldn't be coming home.

She felt sick again, but this time, making sure she breathed out through her nose and in only through her mouth wasn't going to fix it. "I'll… I'll call Pru." It was a lot. She knew Laurie knew it too. She was glad she'd been friends with him for so long, because she didn't have to worry about him following her back to the car and pulling her into some makeshift, awkward hug in an attempt to make it all better, when in reality it would only have made the whole thing worse. For more than just Joe, but she wasn't about to get into that.

Leaning into her half-wound-down window, Kaya picked up her radio and called her uncle—the sheriff—up. "It's a local. It's Joe. We need to organize to get his body sent to county tonight. Put a rush on it. It looks like we've got a bear attack here." She paused, waiting for her uncle to speak his thoughts and outline their next plan of action. He told her what she knew he would: he'd send a few of their own people out tomorrow to scout the area. He wasn't referring to her and Laurie either. She hung the radio back on the hook, thinking about what her own dad might make of it, what he'd suggest they do. And just like that, she felt like a child again—naive and, worst of all, scared.

— END —

[laurielewis]

who: Laurie & @magsparrow when: 24th May 1989, day of the werewolf attack where: Front porch of the Sparrow family's cottage

The screams down the phone had been chilling. Help, she'd cried, as a cold wave of fear crashed over him. His heart pounded against his chest, echoing in his ears like a relentless drum. He'd promised her he'd be there, to hang on for just a little bit more. Laurie threw himself into his car and ran every red light that stood in his way.

The car roars down the winding roads that twists and turns beneath a canopy of ancient trees. The loud and urgent growl of the engine disturbing the quiet of the wilderness. Finally, pulling up in front of the cottage, tires screech against the asphalt as the car skidded to a stop. Laurie jumps out of the car and runs towards her, heart dropping at the sight of her sprawled out across the front porch. "Mags," he whispers, "Mags, it's me." His voice cracks under the weight of the moment, of seeing her like this, with so much blood all over her. Tears start to well up in his eyes as he kneels besides her. "It's Laurie. I'm here."

[laurielewis]

Laurie's hands are on his knees, getting ready to stand up to go and help Kaya if she needs it. But she was okay. He knows she can hold her own. Her reaction triggers a gag of his own, but he instead swallows the churros back down. She didn't need to further bad news that he'd demolished them. "I don't-- I don't know. Yes, maybe?" He grimaces slightly. "If he's been here for a while, then at the very least the rats have gotten to him." Which wasn't what Kaya was asking. But... God, he couldn't even think it. Those were some big chunks that'd been ripped out of him.

"Yeah..." Laurie says quietly, glancing back at Kaya. "Fuck." He looks at her for a moment, trying to see what was going on behind those eyes. He had a pretty good guess. It wasn't right, to have such mixed feelings about someone who'd died so horrifically. As nice as it was to be back in Salem, surrounded by so many familiar faces, this was exactly what he worried about. The stack of missing persons cases whose names he all recognised, whose families he'd grown up with. Now, a death, of someone he hadn't even been close to, someone he'd actually hoped would just die when he didn't know any better, and here he was hoping Joe had made the positive changes in his life so that he could rest peacefully.

At Kaya's cue, Laurie follows suit. "I have no idea. I don't remember any happening when we were growing up. Do you?" Laurie exhales heavily, again, when the light is back on Joe's face. He reaches down, and with a gloved hand closes Joe's eyes. "I think so. Look at that--" He points his light to a deep gash, "--Way too big to be a coyote. Definitely not clean enough to be a knife." A beat. "I hate to say it, but it would be like Joe to try and fight a black bear." It was, at this moment in time, the only explanation for why a bear would make an offensive attack.

A flashlight shines in the opposite direction. He shoves those mixed feelings to the back of his mind. as he looks around the area. Another can, kicked to the side. "I don't even want to know," he replies, voice echoing as every word bouncing off the dirty stone walls. "Nope. Nothing here either." He starts making his way back to her. "Let's get this written up and send Joe to Pru." After that, they'll have to make the dreaded visit to his family.

Was he having her on? If it had been anyone else, she might've taken a moment to consider it, but if there was one thing about Laurie, it was that he never joked on the job. At least not about the job. She was a free-for-all. "What are you—" She walked up, the smell ripping into her nostrils, making her turn and try to hold her stomach down. Yeah, that wasn't a fresh corpse… she'd say Laurie was on the money about it being a little over a week old. "My God…" She held it together, spitting a little food out that had resurfaced, before making her way over to him. "Fucking hell, Laurie. Was he eaten?"

She took out a pen, a spare glove, wrapping it over it, and then reached forward, lifting bits of skin flaps up in an attempt to work out if she could make out who it was just as Laurie seemed to translate her actions and supply an answer to her… Joe. "Joe?"

For a second, she was back there. Back at school as Joe slapped her and Laurie's lunch trays out of their hands with a laugh; not his worst, but regardless, it was the memory that she pulled up to piece together the sitting, deconstructed lasagna in front of her and the bully that had once made it his mission to make Laurie and her life hell. "Fuck." Even she wouldn't have wished this on him. On anyone.

Backing up, she took out her flashlight, kicking a can with her boot as she tried to look for evidence that might help them put it all together. "When was the last time we had a bear attack, Laurie?" She knew coyotes were far more prominent, but no way did a coyote do that. "It has to be a black bear, right?" She turned her flashlight to the deep scratch marks down the side of his face. "You don't look like that after a coyote." Of course, it was all just speculation now. They wouldn't know until they got the body down to the county, where Dr. Acrement would spend a day or two drawing her own conclusions.

Turning back to the tunnel, Kaya shined her light toward the ground as she continued to walk toward the end. "What the hell was Joe doing so far out?" She yelled, stopping when she realized the only thing her light was illuminating was dirt and trash. "I've got nothing down here. How about you?"

[laurielewis]

Whilst Laurie usually takes offence to any sort of mocking towards the job, he decides to regard her words in a way any good and neighbourly Deputy Sheriff would, with good grace. "Well, if there was missing corn," he says, hands on his hips, "I'd like to believe me and my egg-vestigation skills alone would be just fine." A playful lift of the brows and shoulders, as if to say: what do you say?, hoping he'd made the good first impression he had wanted to make when he first approached her.

The way she smiles and moves towards him is done in such a way that always makes him blink rapidly. It was the kind of look he only started receiving in Boston, and he always thought it was just the uniform. Even now, he figures she's just being friendly. Anything more than that would mean he was reading too much into it and the past few years had gotten to his head. Arrogance was such an unflattering trait! So, he'll return the smile, even if he has to gulp to do it.

"Me?" A finger points to his chest. Him, specifically? Why? He wasn't even wearing his uniform. Maybe she was new to town and was trying to make new friends. He understands the initial loneliness that comes with moving to a place where you didn't know anyone. "Ahh.." He looks up at the Ghost Train hesitantly. Nope. Couldn't do it. "My nephew is definitely braver than me," he nods slowly, admitting defeat. "But technically I'm not working tonight, so if there's anything else you'd like to go on..." A beat. "Do you like the Ferris Wheel?"

When a familiar face walks past, Laurie raises a hand above his head to wave. "Good evening, Mrs. Walker." Though, his smile quickly dropped at the older woman's reaction. Then, the curtness of Merida's voice makes him quickly turn to look at her, then back to Mrs. Walker, whose demeanour made him frown, then back to Merida as Mrs. Walker takes her leave.

"Oh, no. Not at all. We go to the same church, it's not--" he chuckles softly, shaking his head. "If anything, she should be jealous of me." He looks back at Mrs. Walker again, confused by the whole situation. "That was really rude." He didn't like it one bit. "I wouldn't take that personally. She was probably just having a bad day."

Oh, this was going to be entertaining.

"Oh, absolutely! Nothing screams 'fearless law enforcement' quite like a chicken brandishing a shiny badge. Next you'll be telling me you're here to crack the case of the missing corn. Should I call for backup, or will you be clucking along just fine?"

Merida's eyes flicked to the badge and back to the deputy sheriff’s face, her expression trying to keep the laughter at bay, to which, she failed the test -- grandly. "Deputy Sheriff, huh?" leaning closer, a predatory smile curling her lips. "Well, I wouldn't want to keep you from your duties." a soft purr slipped out,. It amused her how easily humans could be unsettled. She could hear his pulse quicken, the hunger gnawing at her insides.

But no, Salem was off-limits. The rules were clear. She straightened, gaze slide away from him dismissively, already scanning the crowd for her next target -- someone who was interested in spending time with her. It wasn't like she was a leper, in fact, Merida was aware of her fortunate looks. "Your nephew, though. Sounds like he’s braver than you," she teased lightly, her tone dismissive. "Though, I do have to say, nine year olds...really not my style. Especially when I was trying to get you to come with me."

The last thing she needed was to draw the attention of law enforcement, even one as seemingly harmless as the deputy. She was about to open her mouth when a woman stopped, her eyes narrowing, like she was seeing a ghost. Her lips opening and closing, like a damn fish in a bowl. "See something you like?" Merida snapped, warning laced with a smooth trainsition to that faux sweetness: once upon a time, it'd been very real. Now, she was but half the woman she'd once been. Now she loathed humans, their need for constant reassurance. The woman looked startled, her wariness remaining as she stormed off, away from the two.

"Think she was jealous? Maybe toyboys are her thing."

[laurielewis]

There was a subtle twitch of the brows when Pru refers to Joe as 'Bear Food'. It had more to do with remembering the look on Joe's wife's face and her uncontrollable sobs when they'd delivered the news than it was a reflection on Pru's character. To her, it was probably just another dead body. Meanwhile, Laurie struggled to detach himself from the case, especially when all he could think about was how this could've been Mags. So, he silently accepted the report and flicked through the pages instead of focusing on the body.

He looked at Kaya at the mention of 'thumbs', to see if she was thinking what he was thinking, then to Pru, for an answer.

"Mags--" He stops, then corrects himself, "Magdalena Sparrow." Everyone knew of the Sparrows, a nice family who lived by the forest. "She was attacked last week. A bear, is what she said." It was hard to remain controlled, to put his personal feelings aside. His grip around the file tightened. "She, um, she has similar claw marks to this." He nods towards the deep gash that went along the shoulder, which he assumes is how she deduced the 'thumb'. "They're too big to be a man's, aren't they?"

Perhaps he'd hoped for signs of foul play, or even suicide, and a lucky animal happened to come across the body. The probability of being attacked by a bear is so small, less than 1% if he remembers correctly. The fact that two could've happened within the space of a few days is something he struggled to grasp. There's a higher chance of being killed by a bee, even higher to be killed by a human. So, he has to ask, "There's definitely no other cause of death?"

@prudenceisawitch

It was getting to be the late afternoon when Pru had finally completed her work for the day. Aside from a couple run of the mill autopsies, she had been left with one case that she had refused to simply check off her list; not when she’d never been faced with such gruesome injuries in the past year she had been working as the chief medical examiner in Salem. Just as Prudence had begun to slide a delicate fingertip across the jagged skin of the decimated throat of her patient, the door to her office opened and in walked the sheriffs. While she certainly had been expecting them to come by at some point, she was rather miffed it was just as her senses began to pick up on something. She supposed it’d have to wait. “Bear food,” her eyes lingered upon the wounds adorning his neck before flickering up to gaze at her company with a grin, pushing herself off the examination table where she’d been seated beside the body, “or so it seems.” Prudence shrugged while she picked up the file toward the very end of the table and offered it in their direction. “It’s not general behavior for a bear –brown, black, or polar alike– to go for the jugular, or have thumbs.”

[laurielewis]

who: Investigation Squad ( @prudenceisawitch, @buffynpcs-cursed ) when: 2nd June 1989 where: Coroner's Office

As the sheriffs walk, the soles of their boots produce a resonant thud, each step amplified by the acoustics of the long and narrow hallway. The air is thick with the musty scent of neglected corners and old paper. It's hard for Laurie to keep his comments to himself, especially when the lights overhead flicker intermittently, clear that some of the bulbs have long since burnt out.

The coroner's office is tucked away in a forsaken corner at the bottom of the hospital, where Judd the Janitor moves along the corridor with his clunky cleaning machine, as if searching for something lost. Laurie still doesn't say anything, but instead shares a knowing look with Kaya that reads: So creepy.

After knocking on the door, Laurie holds it open for Kaya to enter before stepping into Pru's office himself. "Hey Pru," he greets with a small nod. Then, as he stands with his hands on his hips, he directs his attention to the body on the cold steel table. "What'd you have for us?"