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#Book five
ladygreenwithenvy · 2 months
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A Vanity’s Goodnight
౨ৎ ˚。⋆ ⋆.˚౨ৎ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ જ⁀➴  ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆。˚ ⋆ ౨ৎ
Category: Fluff, Comfort
Characters included: Vil Schoenheit, Prefect (Female)
Oneshot Prompt: After a very strenuous day of the Sing and Dance Competition, Yuu invites Vil to her room for a small chat- and hopefully a heart to heart.
౨ৎ ˚。⋆ ⋆.˚౨ৎ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ જ⁀➴  ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆。˚ ⋆ ౨ৎ
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The soft creak of the floorboards reverted with every step they made. It filled the awkward silence between them, or at least it tried. One could only hope that those loud creaks could mask this- this bespoke silence as a more comfortable one.
Obviously, it didn’t.
The silence was just too palpable. Palpable enough to be stricken by a magical pen.
The elephant in the room, or in this case in the hallway, was a bit too big. It made this scenario all the more disagreeable. Almost unsightly and never ending. Like each step added five more years. The walk to Yuu’s room felt like a punishment in itself.
But that wasn’t what was on Vil’s mind. He didn’t care about the walk. There were more irritating things.. Like the growing intensity between him and the Prefect for one- but it was only natural.
Yuu could have died today because of him. Many could have died today because of him.
Today was a disaster, and his overblot was the main course for that. And still, it wasn’t the main thing he was so stuck on in his head.
The other thing, or the main thing as is more appropriate to call it, was how the Prefect clearly knew more than she let on. And it was just a matter of time until they sat down and talked about a topic he definitely didn’t want out in the open. For better or for worse. Some things were just meant to rot in the deepest depths of his convoluted heart.
And how did Vil know? Such a question was redundant. Vil can always tell with such things. He’s always had a knack for reading the behaviors of the people around him. ‘Tis but just one of many talents and pros from growing up in the acting world. The blonde beauty could deduce who is most likely to double cross him the moment they smile at him. Spotting betrayals is trivial for someone like Schoenheit.
At the same time, Vil was plenty capable of sorting out the genuine earnest types. That’s trivial for him too. Afterall, discerning that Silver was perfectly harmless during the Beanfest games was rudimentary. So, why?..
Why couldn’t he seem to figure her out at this moment? It positively peeved him. How much did Yuu know for her to personally ask him to talk things out alone like this?
Surely, she knew something. And knowing her, she’d tell him. That’s just how blunt the Prefect was. And it’s not like it took some sort of maverick genius or a savvy merchant to figure out that Vil was.. upset. Upset beyond words. Words he still hasn’t spilled out just yet. Not even to Rook. Yes, he who can notice things as little as a gram more of weight gain couldn’t even notice the agony that Vil had been living with for almost all of his life. Yes, the very hunter who studied him almost daily like some forbidden work of art figured it out when it was too late. And so did Yuu.. But when she looked at him as if there was more. Almost as if… well..
He just didn’t know. It was as if you read his mind and then some.
It was as if she were a gemologist. A very special kind. Studying his eyes after what happened shortly in the SDC. Vil recalled how she studied his gaze and was trying to peel him apart like he was under her microscope. Studying the glimmer in his rare hue. Studying the fractures too. That only grew more over time until it shattered under enough pressure. Like a punch to a glass pane, it felt like. And what leaked out was that putrid smell of blot, as well as an ugliness Vil never wanted anyone to see.
And even now, it barely stayed together. Every fracture was still on the floor in his eyes.
And with so much hurt that kept getting forced to reveal itself one after another, it was safe to say that it wouldn’t fade away with just a little pep talk.
And Yuu knew that. Recognized that upon a glance. That’s how it always was with every Overblot case she’s been stuck with. This was the part she hated the most. The helplessness. The realization that she couldn’t solve this with some motivating pep talk. She knew that it would so much more to heal Vil.
But at the very least, she could understand just one little thing about Vil. A feeling.
The feeling of simply not being enough.
Something that she needed to face many lone nights when slumbering in this magical world. So, who better to talk about this with Vil than the veteran Prefect? No matter how vexing that elephant was, it needed to be talked about.
But let’s start light for now.
“I think you did wonderfully.” Yuu starts. “The performance, I mean.” Her eyes looked back down to the creaky floorboards, just in case Grim left one of his empty tuna cans on the floor again. It’d be embarrassing to trip now in such a crucial moment of need. But then again, maybe Vil could benefit from a laugh here.
“Knowing that it was your all- it felt so special, you know?” She admits, hoping for success in breaking their silence to completion.
Her steps were slow to match with Vil’s pace. They suddenly halted. Changing direction.
The tips of her shoes now pointed at her door.
It wasn’t anything special. Simply painted in her favorite colors on the outlines to differentiate between the other identical doors. With how garbage the locks are, it’d be terrible if any visitor were to barge in and accidentally sneak a peek. A nightmare, actually.
“Maybe I should paint it some more” She blurts out, turning the knob and pushing the door forward.
“There was a trend back in my world where people painted their doors or bedroom walls out of pure boredom at the time.” She rambles, racking at her brain on how to move the conversation. Vil was just so silent, simply listening to the ramblings of the first year- He could tell that she was sweating bullets, but chose not to say anything. His intensity was more fervent, and that definitely wasn’t helping.
“Maybe I should test it out on the canvas I have in my room first. It’s been collecting dust for half the semester.” She stammered, motioning the Pomefiore Housewarden to sit on the green armchair.
Vil could only smile, and hope that was good enough to ease the many worries that struck the poor girl’s heart.
He couldn’t blame her- Anyone in her shoes would be worried sick about him after such a nasty overblot.
“I think that’s a sound enough idea, but do be mindful of the colors and the technique you end up using. What you decide to paint on your door should also compliment the structure- you wouldn’t want it to be an eyesore” He advises, sitting up straight once he feels his body properly press itself against those cushions. It was a cheap couch, and it did not befit nor him or the stammering little prefect in front of him. But that was a comment for another day: the importance of furniture replacement for aesthetic and convenient purposes, he’d note.
Still, Vil couldn’t ignore the purpose of this small talk anymore. She was just trying to lighten the mood. Guilt twisted his bleeding heart, for he knew that her nervous smile was all his fault. Those nervous gazes to any other angle of the room befalls on him. And he was at a loss on how to smoothen it. If only he weren’t so tired right now. He’d know what to do. He usually did.
Instead, he opted for following along her lead. Swallowing the growing lump in his throat again. Maybe not his quickest thought to cross his mind, because right as he tried to open his mouth, Yuu turned herself back around the door.
“Stay right there. I’ll be riiight back” was all she said before booking it to the door in quiet steps.
‘Like a little mouse’ he adds to no one in particular, smiling at how endearing it was to see her so flustered despite the circumstances. Usually, Yuu didn’t really insert themselves too much in situations, much less conversations. That was always the job of that vulgar little cat monster you call Grim. But, as if to prove that you are your own person, your personality is highlighted with how your comments go straight to the jugular with the truth.
A funny little maus, she was.
The actor would relax a bit. He took this moment to gaze around her room. The way you take care of your room reflects how you are as a person, this was something that the blonde believed in deeply. And it was definitely correct.
It was clean.
The bed was tucked and lacked any wrinkles. That empty canvas she mentioned earlier was right next to her bed. Tucked away in that corner with that purple drape that covered very little. His eyes naturally pandered to the windows next. They were shielded by those blue curtains that she most likely forgot to pull back.
The last time he was here was to remind her and Grim of their necessary alarm clocks for the whole month, by then the curtains were open as usual. He wouldn’t be surprised if she woke up in a horrid rush to avoid being late. Vil felt tempted to stand up and to look beyond the shielded glass panes, but instead found himself drawn by something else.
“What a beautiful handcrafted cuckoo clock… it suits the aesthetic of such an antique dorm, but it stands out alone as such a conversation starter.” He mutters to himself. Again. To no one in particular.
He stands up to properly inspect it. His gloves hands were gentle in brushing against the sides. It’s been properly dusted too.
“What a diligent little maus you are” He hums, chuckling at his little sentence before glancing over at her desk to inspect it on a surface level. And then he stops.
“..... Sevens, what am I doing?” Vil groans, his hand covering his eyes from the frustration.
A girl has invited him to her room after a very dangerous day to hopefully unwind, and here he was marveling at her- very basic- decor. His priorities right now were shot. Shot and muddled into a mess. He was a mess.
Removing his hand from his eyes, he glanced back at the clock, and then at the mirror.
As if on record time, he saw the door open.
Soft steps. Short steps. He noticed her focused stare at the objects in hand.
A soft clink on the table echoed this room. He looked down.
A bowl of sliced strawberries in one hand, two water bottles on the other. The Prefect smiled at him.
Soft eyes. Patient eyes stared back at him from the reflection. Soft lips. Slowly curving to a patient smile.
“Let’s just talk for a bit” She suggested.
And what was he to do? Decline? Please, not with that discernable soft spot he had for her.
“Alright” he replies, and already found himself sitting right back down where he belonged.
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Just a simple conversation. More small talk than anything. He was surprised to hear that Yuu had researched some films that Vil was in. With how natural the conversation flowed every time, he almost forgot that you were from another world. Which meant that he wasn’t a face that you knew about prior to this school year.
It was a strange idea. Humbling even.
It turned out that the Prefect watched a movie that was set in the Sunset Savana. He recalled the production, and he recounted the story of how an elephant dumped some water on him. It made her laugh. Concluding with the same thought he had; that the elephant must have done that as a gift.
Such a pretty laugh, Vil thought. And it was, at least for him. It suited her features more than that straight lined expression she always had.
And then the conversation dialed back down again.
He closed his eyes- and immediately perked up to Yuu’s demand.
“Be honest? About what?” He asked, chugging the last drops of his beverage. He looked over at her whilst twisting the tap back on.
“About… y’know, this. All of that. The uh… the overblot. I’m sure you know what happens to me every time that happens by now.”
Vil blinked, keeping his inflated ego to himself. He knew he was right about something here.
“No, mein maus. I don’t. Care to fill me in?”
Yuu sighed, setting down her own bottle. “I see where it started… I see the source” She paused. “In your memories”
“...”
Vil felt at a loss of words, because he knew what that meant. Without him knowing, he opened this door of vulnerability for what was basically a stranger. And that made his blood run cold. “Ah.. so that’s the rumor.”
He had to ask. Now he just had to. “So, you’re aware of my… hatred for him?”
The Prefect would only nod. Honestly, Yuu was a bit shocked that his hatred even reached the point that even now he refused to say Neige’s name. “I… I didn’t know.” She awkwardly whispered.
“No one did. Something as… hideous as that, must be kept a secret.”
“Hideous? What, your feelings? That’s not hideous Vil.”
“It’s not beautiful either”
“It’s human, Vil. There’s nothing to be ashamed about either.”
“I wanted him dead, Yuu.” He fixed his posture, almost as if for a moment he forgot that he’s meant to be perfect. Because if he wasn’t perfect, if he wasn’t the fairest of them all- then what is he?
“What could you possibly know, Miss Prefect? How could you possibly hope to understand?”
His eyes. Bubbling up with a contempt Yuu didn’t know how empty out. And yet she didn’t have to. They faltered just as quickly as it erupted. He was too weak at the moment to continue with such a strong act. He knew that. Even now, Vil couldn’t last to the very end of such a scene.
Merciful Sevens, he didn’t even understand why he was being so uncharacteristically vulnerable in the first place. Was he truly that much of a mess? That weak that he’s falling apart to the first person that offers just a little bit of sympathy? How horrid. The last thing he’d ever want is to be pitied.
And yet he couldn’t find it himself to stop her.
His lips trembled, his own lipstick having faded. So deep in his mind, he’s even forgotten to reapply it. “I…. I’ve never felt uglier than I did today…”
He looked away from her yet again, as if the truth compelled him to look at anywhere but her. “And no beauty treatment washes this off. It never goes away. Why won’t it? Why should it?”
Yuu knew that it took a lot out of him. To admit something so foreign out loud.
In a sense, he was right. She has no idea how he feels, because they were his feelings. Not hers.
She closed her eyes and tilted her head down.
The young Prefect expected many things from this point onward, but she ruled it down quickly to two. One, he would leave without saying another word, forcing her to reflect in her presumptuous statements. Or two, he would keep scolding her for her assumptions and then he’d leave. Yuu was leaning towards the latter.
“I’m sorry”
It interrupted her thoughts. Stopped them completely.
This voice, it was so sweet. You’d almost think a melody would follow.
When she opened her eyes and lifted her head, she saw none other than Vil. He was bowing, trembling a little from the lack of strength. And to be honest, it almost scared Yuu.
It was all so raw. A complete far cry from his cold display before..
It was at this very moment that she understood something about Vil. Beneath all this beauty, all this shine and determination to reach towards a dream that most would deem impossible, there was him.
A Vil that fell in love with the cinema. A Vil that bowed on a little school theater stage and realized that this was the feeling that he wanted to feel for the rest of his life. A Vil that cries himself to sleep on harsh days and nights. A Vil that just wants to stay on the stage to the very end.
A Vil that’s fragile.
A Vil that is beautiful.
A Vil that is ugly.
A Vil that is so human.
Arms reached out and hugged him tight. Like a vice.
It was warm. And soft. As if the gentle wind, as playful as it was, forced a light pressure to his body
"I-... Why are you?..."
Her embrace felt suffocating. He was..
… at a loss for words.
He never realized just how small she was compared to him.
He never noticed how fluffy her hair was, and how it bounced so graciously with each step she took. It was well taken care of as well. Good. She was following his advice then. No. Not the time to think about her improved hair routine, no matter how proud he was of it.
When was the last time he’d been hugged like this? When it didn’t come from her father or for the purpose of a scene?
He didn’t know. And it made him melt even faster.
That scared him a little. He’s never fallen apart in front of someone so quickly. But Yuu seems to have that effect on so many others too. To experience it first hand was.. Well, it didn’t matter.
"I'm so sorry.. my dear" he whispered into her ear.
But for Yuu? She could have sworn that the room had gotten much warmer after that.
"It's okay.."
"No, I.."
"It's alright…" she persisted, slowly letting go as she felt him start to shift and move.
Vil said nothing, his gaze to the floor as he struggled a "Sweet dreams" and would start stepping away.
The Prefect would follow of course, but would stop him the moment he reached the door. With the sleeve of his uniform, she’d tug it and force him back a step, as well as to her height level. Vil obliged, expecting her to say something else, but-
"You've never looked more beautiful to me than now.” She smiled. “Even as you tremble, you shine… you're a gem I can't have, and I envy that about you.." Her voice was low. It was almost quiet. Like a forbidden whisper. As if she’s admitted a secret none were ever supposed to hear. But Vil couldn’t help but feel more glad that he heard it.
When opening the door for him, she showed him out, and said "Please go to bed now, you've done enough for today."
She would have stopped there, but..
She didn't know what it was. Maybe it was the light that perfectly casted onto Vil's skin. Maybe it was his soft breathing that she had the pleasure to hear at such a close distance. Or maybe it was his eyes that once again entranced her to think unthinkable things.
But whatever it was, it gave her feet the courage to step towards and push her perfectly shaped lips to collide with his cheek.
"...." He was… dizzy.
He felt dizzy.
He felt tense and unsure of where to go from here.
How did?..
Why did she?..
She pulled away, and whispered a comforting, "Goodnight" and walked back inside her door without looking back. The sound of the doorknob turning echoed for a moment. And once again, Vil was surrounded by silence. A warmer silence that covered him like a blanket.
"Ah.." There we go, that makes sense. He recognized this. A traditional greeting and goodbye from her homeland. That was all. Yes. That was all it was.
“I suppose I’ll chide her about this at another time.” He hummed, making a mental note about that. To confront the Ramshackle Prefect about the thin line between traditions and inappropriateness that she was playing jump rope with.
He tried to concoct a speech in his head. It was all for naught. Every sentence he tried to form in order to scold her, turned to mush.
That cheeky little goodbye kiss definitely took much longer than the regular goodbyes she’s done befo- Huh.
Wait a moment…
He stiffened a little, stopping suddenly in his walk back to his room.
He smiled again.
One last smile.
Such a devious little maus. Only further proving Rook’s title of a Trickster.
"..... Maybe not" He silently proclaimed to no one in particular, and left it at that.
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Author's Note
౨ৎ ˚。⋆ ⋆.˚౨ৎ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ જ⁀➴  ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ౨ৎ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆。˚ ⋆ ౨ৎ
Tee hee
I disappeared for a bit. I'm sorry :3
Fun fact, this fic used to be for a friend at the time. That's why the story has a fem!Prefect instead of a gender neutral one. It was easier to take out details and stuff if I just kept the gender.
Changing this fic from a story that specifically meant to cater one person into a general story for a wider audience was a bit difficult. And it took me a while.
Still, hope you liked it!
More is on the way, no matter how long it takes (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)
Thank you! Buenas noches! 💜
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needynia · 12 days
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seraphinitegames · 2 years
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Hello hi! I wanted to say that I absolutely love TWC series and F is totally my comfort character for whenever I’m having a bad day!
I just wanted to make a quick question without too much detail to avoid future spoilers. I believe book 5 angst will be about our dear detective mother and our RO. May I be into something?👀
Aah, I love that! I've never heard of a comfort character before, but F totally fits that!
As for Book 5 angst, it will focus mostly on the love interest, but their is one particular route that involves Rebecca that'll just be..oh, SO SO intense...
Thank you so much for the ask! :)
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backpackingspace · 8 months
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The crowned prince and his four advisors were looking more and more like xie lian THANKS I HATE IT
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When the Desert Blooms
Chapter Seventy-Seven
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Now available on patreon!
Want to read weeks in advance instead of waiting for AO3? Sign up for patreon! For only a few dollars per month, you can gain early access to When the Desert Blooms as well as one to three other Patreon series.
Check out patreon for yourself here!
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jplupine · 6 months
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Chapter 15 is now available!
Fic Title: Leila of the Woods (Book Five)
Chapter Summary: As things calm down, Leila tries to figure out what her next steps to take will be. Settle on this new planet? Travel the stars? Regardless of her choice, she knows she won't be alone.
Chapter Warnings*: Courting Behaviors, Blood, Mature Language, Sex, Knotting, Discussions of having pups [kids]
To read Chapter 15: AO3 || Wattpad
To start from the beginning: AO3 || Wattpad
*Chapter warnings are only for the chapter. This story contains 18+ themes and topics difficult to some readers; please read responsibly.
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The art of Leila and Upgrade Predator was drawn by me; Full image can be found here
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epnona-the-wisp · 10 months
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velvet4510 · 6 months
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my-brothers-corrupted · 8 months
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My Brothers, Corrupted
Book Five: Section Four
Jackie and Blue try to navigate Jameson being in the hospital, keeping doctors at a distance while also dealing with their own feelings about everything going on. Masterlist
Tws for discussion of hospitalization/institutionalization, mental illness, psychosis, domestic violence, and cult dynamics. Tws may not be completely exhaustive - keep in mind the heaviness of the fic and look out for yourself.
Thank you to @lehhoh7822 for taking the time to compile this book!
.
Anonymous asked: Hey Jackie, when you get home and check the cameras, just know your family is perfectly safe. They went to a hospital and the others are just on a walk. No one is hurting or in danger! Well, no more than usual.
It’s a few hours later when one of the few cameras they have left comes flickering violently to life. Beneath his hood, Jackie’s face is dark, his blue eyes alight with tumult, and when the messages don’t load fast enough, he shakes the camera hard, a shout tearing out of his mouth. Blood smears across his cheek and his hands are red.
They’re perfectly safe. No one’s hurting or in danger. They’re perfectly safe.
Not enough!
Jackie shoves the camera into the pocket of his backpack and takes off back down the stairs at a sprint.
“Jackie? Jackie!”
Chase is home by now, crying at Jackie to calm down, but his brother isn’t listening. Nothing is enough. Jackie pushes Chase out of his way and goes racing out the door and into the rain.
nikkilbook asked: JACKIE. Talk to me. What’s in your head right now?
If Blue wasn’t there outside the door to the hospital room, Jackie probably would have burst right in without even thinking about it. He’s soaked with rain by the time he gets there, chest heaving from the run, but he doesn’t pause until Blue shoots to his feet and grabs him by the shoulders, shoving him back from the door.
“Red! Hey! Don’t go in there all worked up, just stop, just stop!”
Jackie grips his shoulders in return, shoving Blue back against the wall, but there’s no aggression in him. His eyes are wild and blank, his whole head consumed by one thought.
“Red, Ro, Jackie, talk to me,” pants Blue, as his twin squeezes him tighter and tighter. “What’s the matter, what’s - ”
“Give him back to me, don’t take him.”
“No one’s taking him.”
“Give him back. Give him back.”
“Jackie. Jackie. He’s right in there. No one is taking him.”
They’ll put him in a room and he’ll never see him again. Jackie will sit for months outside his room and never see him again. Dapper will be locked up for months and months and there will be nothing Jackie can do about it. They’ll put him in an institution. They’ll put him in prison. He’ll just be alone. There will be nothing Jackie can do about it.
Again, again, again!
“Jackie! Look at me, look at me! Whose blood is this? You’re freaking yourself out, just - ”
Jackie shoves him to the ground and pushes into the hospital room, pupils blown, eyes wild.
scunneredzombie asked: Most doctor offices have translation options for people who sign! Blue & JJ, when you get in there tell them JJ signs and they might have an interpreter they can call in for you, it would be very helpful.
There’s someone standing over his little brother.
There’s someone he doesn’t know standing over his little brother.
And that’s not right. That’s not how this goes. That’s not safe. There are cops and magicians and worse in the world, and Red, you don’t trust anyone unless I say you can trust them, and even then, you sleep with one eye open, do you understand?
Yes, Anti, I understand.
I’ll let you go out on your own if you’re good. And that means you keep your fucking mouth shut, got it?
Yes, Anti.
Why do you gotta keep your mouth shut?
Cause if anybody else finds out about this -
About little brothers locked in their room and murdered enemies, about glowing eyes and glitches in the air, about Anti, about any of them, about anything in the whole of his life -
Someone will come take my brothers away.
Right. And then you’ll really know what it feels like to fail as a protector, little hero.
He’s asleep in his bed. He’s tiny and white in his bed. He’s hooked up to machines and medication and he’s hollow as the bones of a bird, sitting there with a stranger hovering over him, sitting there with a prison guard -
“Ro!” Blue is screaming, grabbing him from behind. “Stop it, he’s just a nurse! A translator for him to talk! Don’t, Jackie, stop it!”
He’s standing over the stranger and Blue’s hands grabbing him are the only things stopping a blind terror from reacting in the form of fury. Jackie stands, shaking. There’s blood on him. His mouth is dry. Blue holds him back, wrapping his soothing arms around him, begging him to be calm. He licks his mouth, letting Blue drag him back to sit beside Dapper’s bed, guarding his little brother, teeth gritted in his mouth til it hurts his whole jaw.
“You’re good, we’re good,” chants Blue, rocking him. “It’s a nurse, he’s nice, everyone’s nice, Dapper’s feeling better, we’re good. A nurse who can talk to him in sign, and he lit up so fast when he saw that, you should have seen him, he calmed right down…”
Jackie coughs, shutting his eyes. He’s so tired. He just wants to find them a home and lock them all in for the rest of their lives, so no one ever touches them again.
Strangers will hurt us, Jackie.
Anti, I know.
It’s only then that Jackie becomes aware of a man in a white coat sitting in the corner, his legs crossed at the knee, taking meticulous notes while Jackie breaks down.
nikkilbook asked: I feel like I need to point out that yeah, Red would have stepped up to become the Enforcer/Abuser if Anti had died there. But you haven’t been Red in a very long time, Jackie. You’re the boy in the red hood, not the glitch, Jackieboy Man.
He still just feels like Red. In fact, lately he feels more like Red than ever. All he has is anger and panic left. At least he felt like some sort of hero when Anti was alive, when his defensiveness was protective and all of his siblings listened when he told them what they needed to do.
Now he’s just anger and panic. Anger and panic. Anger and panic.
“Whose blood is this?” asks Blue softly, rocking against him. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Jackie closes his eyes, fists clenched. “It’s not mine,” he manages after a few long minutes.
“Dammit, Jackie,” whispers Blue, because he knows it too - knows that Jackie’s being eaten alive by this new world as much as he enjoys it in the moments when things feel good. “Go home now, you’re flipping out.”
“Okay, I’m just bringing Dapper.”
“Jackie. He has to stay a while.”
“No. No. This is not where he goes. He’s supposed to be in the other room.”
“Jackie - ”
“This is not where he goes. This is not where he goes. He goes in the other room and I can check on everyone all night, as much as I want.”
“Ro, he’s staying here.”
There’s a clearing of the throat. Blue peeks over the top of the bed, face flushing as he sees the doctor looking at them.
“Would it help if I explained at all?” he asks.
Jackie blinks, glancing at Blue.
“No,” he says unsteadily. “He’s fine. We can go home. Yeah?”
The doctor lets out a small laugh. Jackie glowers, turning to look at him.
“Matti said you were a little overprotective,” the doctor tells him.
Jackie shoots Blue a dirty look.
“Oh, come on,” snaps Blue. “Look at yourself.”
“Whatever,” growls Jackie, crossing his arms over his chest.
“We’ll give you a minute to talk,” says the doctor, rising to his feet. “And when you have questions, you can come find me.”
Anonymous asked: Freedom from abuse can be just as scary as it is joyful. But Jackie, change has to happen. If you keep living like Anti made you, it'll be very hard to heal. The brother hierarchy absolutely has to be abolished. You are all equally capable, fragile or not. Your brothers are adults just as you are. They can take care of each other just as much as you care for them. Have trust and hope in your brothers and their capability.
“You should never have brought him in. You should never have - ”
“Rose,” says Blue quietly. “Listen to me.”
“You should never - ”
“Ro,” repeats Blue more sternly, wrapping a warm hand around his arm. “We’ve been working on this. Listen.”
Jackie shuts his mouth. There’s a flood of words beneath his teeth but he shuts his mouth. For Blue. He’s trying.
��You were doing so well right at the beginning,” sighs Blue, sinking down to sit beside him, letting their knees bump together. “What changed? Ever since we left the mansion, you’re really having a hard time.”
“In the mansion you were all right there!” Jackie can hear the whine in his own voice, but he can’t help it. “You all did exactly what you were supposed to every day and you were all right there. Now you all want to talk about doing different things.”
“Jackie,” groans Blue with a laugh, his head falling on his shoulder. “You know your desire to protect is sometimes a little infantilizing, right?”
“What am I supposed to do about it?” asks Jackie quietly. “Just watch you all get hurt again?”
“Maybe,” says Blue. “Just a little, maybe. If that’s what making our own choices is.”
“Oh, and this was Dapper’s choice?”
“This was mine and Chase’s while he’s too sick to make his own.”
“You should have talked to me.”
“You would have said no.”
“Blue,” says Jackie, gripping his wrist. “They’re going to take him to an institution.”
“No, they’re not.” Blue rubs his shoulder. “Maybe he’ll be in the psychiatric ward for a couple days, but they just want to get him stable. They just need to see how he’s doing. Dapper can function for himself - with a little help - when he’s stable. They’ll see that. They’ll let him come home. The doctor seems good, Jackie.”
“You shouldn’t trust them.”
“Jackie. Chase was talking to me earlier and he’s right - we can’t just spend the rest of our lives sick and hiding.”
“We could,” protests Jackie. “We’d be together and safe, isn’t that what’s important?”
“You’re crazy sometimes. I love you.”
“I love you too,” grumbles Jackie. “But I am not leaving him here. End of story.”
“Well, they’re not discharging him, tough guy.”
nikkilbook asked: Jackie, between you and me, I’m not so sure the universe believes in “one chance.” I don’t think there’s a single, prescriptive path that some higher power demands that you take or else. I just don’t think that’s how the universe works.
Have you ever watched a video about teaching an AI to solve a puzzle or play a game? It’s chaos, with thousands of little dots all trying to find the right gap through to the next part of the maze. And out of thousands, one dot does well enough that the next set follows its lead before splintering off to find the next gap.
When the puzzle is solved, the dot probably takes the most bizarre, inane pathway possible—from the viewer’s perspective. We can see the whole maze, while the dot only know what it’s bumping up against. So what if it doubles back or spins in a circle for a solid minute or pinballs off the walls instead of just traveling in a straight line? It made it to the end.
It’s okay to focus on getting your family to a safe place right now. That’s the next gap in the maze. But don’t discount an entire section just because a previous turn led to a dead end. There’s never only one way to get to the end of this maze—heck, you could bust out a chainsaw and make your own path if you wanted to (unlike the dots, you have opposable thumbs).
You’re a miracle, Jackieboy. Your DNA is filled with thousands upon trillions of branching potentialities, designed to respond to and act upon the world around you. Your future is not and never will be only one thing. And maybe the branch where you marry Max has been closed off, or maybe it hasn’t, but that isn’t the only branch that ends with your personal happy ending, independent of and interdependent with your brothers. So do what you need to do right now, but don’t count your own path out just yet.
Jackie sits with his twin for a long time, thinking. He doesn’t mind the visualization. It sticks in his head - an AI exploring, bumping, returning, trying again. He traces patterns on the tiled floor, knees drawn to his chest.
“All I’m doing is bumping into dead ends lately.”
“Well, keep going,” chuckles Blue. “We’ll find a way out someday.”
“What if I’m just too bad at change?” Jackie asks. “What if I can’t ever trust you guys to be alone or to make your own choices? I’m just… so angry lately, Blue, and so… I’m scared.”
Blue rubs drying blood off his brother’s knuckles. “What did you do?” he asks softly.
Jackie cringes, turning away from him. “I… got in a fight.”
“What do you mean? With who? Magicians?”
“No,” sighs Jackie. “Just some asshole. He made a comment at me. Pissed me off. I felt like he was - like he was going to hurt me. So I got up in his face, and when he started shoving me, I hit him. And then I… kept hitting him.”
“Jackie,” hisses Blue, alarmed. “We’re supposed to be lying low! What if he called the cops?”
“He was unconscious,” replies Jackie.
“Ro, you have to be kidding.”
“He was going to hurt me,” says Jackie. “He was going to hurt you.”
“How was he going to hurt us?”
“I don’t know!” shouts Jackie. “He just was!”
Blue backs off again and goes back to cleaning the blood from his hands, exhausted. He lets him cool down again. They breathe. Jackie watches his twin wet a paper towel and return to him, and as the red slips away from the tiny cracks in his knuckles and fingers, he thinks about trillions of possibilities, and wonders when it was that he stopped seeing anything other than hurt siblings and isolation at the end of his road.
nikkilbook asked: I can tell you who I think Jackie is.
He’s kind. He’s quiet sometimes, and he’s loud sometimes. He feels his emotions with every cell in his body and maybe a few more besides, even if he doesn’t know what the emotion is all the time. He’s the kind of person who wakes up early to make bacon pancakes for his little brother but gets thwarted by a little grey cat.
In the past, he’s been the kind of person to love at the expense of his own soul. He loves and loves and loves until there’s nothing left, and he thought he was okay with that. He once said “you are the people who love you, and I am no one at all,” as if the love and energy and honesty and connection that flows from one person to another is snatched away by the universe the second they leave the room. As if the person he became because of that love and because of every struggle and adventure and regular day he had walked through wasn’t something he’d grown into all on his own, as if that was something he’d had to earn based on some arbitrary, unwritten cosmic rule.
I know that he is brilliant, that he can learn and do a thousand things a thousand times over if you give him a chance. I know he loves saving the world and making a difference, and that he’s an absolute dork who got a crush on the cop who was supposed to arrest him and who slaughters his brothers at Mario Kart and laughs the whole time.
I know he loves by telling the truth, but that he hasn’t figured out what truth he’s supposed to tell himself yet. I know he was created because someone was scared, but I wonder if the point wasn’t to shield them from the fear by feeling it instead, but to help them be brave by staying and feeling the fear with them.
Those are the pieces of you that I have, Jackieboy Man. Now you get to decide what the rest of the puzzle looks like. Tell me a story, Astrifer. Tell me a story about who Jackie is going to be now.
“Look, they’ve been watching a long time,” laughs Blue. “They know you, huh?”
Jackie shrugs, listening to Dapper’s breathing and tracing patterns on the floor.
“Do you trust the cameras?”
Jackie glances up at him, then at you. “Yeah, I guess.”
“You guess or you do?”
“I trust the cameras,” says Jackie quietly.
“Well, why?”
Jackie almost doesn’t want to reflect on how many things you’ve helped him through. All the memories seem to be so bad. Like there’s nothing else left.
“They helped me take care of you all,” he says, even softer.
Blue nods, leaning back. After a moment, he adds: “And Max?”
Jackie’s head rises, his eyes flashing. “What? What about him?”
“Did you trust him?”
Jackie stares at his twin. For all that he wanted Blue to know and meet Max back when they were together, he never ended up talking to him much about him. Max was separate from everything else. Max was separate from the badness - up until Jackie hit him and left him knocked out in a graveyard somewhere.
“Does it matter?” he asks morosely.
“Come on, Rojo.”
“Yeah, okay? I trusted him.”
“Why?”
Jackie picks at the floor, exhausted.
“He helped me take care of Dapper. He helped me… take care of… of myself. When I needed him. He helped me. He wanted good things for you. For me.”
“Okay,” says Blue. “So you trusted Max. And you trust the cameras - which are all pretty much total strangers, I might add. So if we think about this logically, don’t you already know that there are people in the world who want to help? Who can be trusted?”
Jackie snorts. “Don’t try to trick my autism with logic, Blue.”
“Jackie, this isn’t your autism,” Blue answers seriously. “This is Anti teaching you that the rest of the world is unsafe. Teaching you that you’re the only one who can keep everyone safe and that we’ll all get hurt if you ever stray from what he wanted you to do. And he taught you those lessons in blood, Jackie. I know how much he hurt you. I mean, I know change being hard and extreme emotions and all that, maybe some hand in hand there, yeah, but, Jackie - this isn’t your autism. That’s your trauma.”
Jackie looks up at him, mouth parted. “You think?”
“Yeah.”
“But how do I get over that?”
“I think you should talk to someone,” says Blue carefully. “And I think you need to start trying to trust us again.”
“How,” asks Jackie, clinging to the idea, the first attempt at hope he’s had in days. “How do I do that?”
“Why don’t we start with spending some time in this hospital,” says Blue. “And letting someone else help you take care of Dapper.”
Jackie looks up at him, sleeping in his bed, and for a second, the wires and needles and monitors aren’t just surveillance and pain for his brother. They’re medicine and supervision and professional help. They’re… maybe okay?
Maybe if he tries.
“Okay,” he says after a long moment.
And it still sends a thrill of fear up his back. It still makes his heart clench up and his chest shake. But he’s trying. He’s listening. And you’re right, Blue’s right, they’re all right -
If he doesn’t try to change, he will only ever be Red, and Red will only ever be the man Anti made him into.
Strangers will hurt you, Red.
You lied to me about so many things, little brother.
“Okay. I’ll try.”
aether-mae asked: Jackie, not to be a hopeless romantic here but of course he would come if you called. Whatever desire you have to see him right now he probably feels the same. You take care of your brothers until you’re fully settled, then if you want you can allow yourself a little indulgence and see if you can find ur fiancé? He would be over the moon to find out you’re free
“You still think about him, don’t you?” Blue says, a little teasing coming into his voice.
“Nooo,” argues Jackie, scowling as his cheeks color. “I don’t want to talk about him.”
“He’d come calling if you asked, Jackie, I bet you anything.”
“Yeah, and then he’d realized what a fucked-up jerk I am and he wouldn’t want me,” Jackie shoots back, burying his face in his arms.
Blue’s smile sinks away. “How long have you been this down on yourself?”
“I want to be better for all of you,” says Jackie, looking up at him. “And if I can change at all, I will, no matter what it takes. I’ll do anything I can. But if you knew the way I think half the time, even you wouldn’t want me, Blue. I don’t want to find Max. I don’t want him to know who I am. He liked me so much. I couldn’t watch him start to hate me.”
Blue’s fingers are unsteady as they rest against Jackie’s shoulder.
“Honey,” he says after a moment, feeling his twin’s misery radiating into him. It makes his stomach hurt. “Can we…”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” says Jackie. “I’ll go see a therapist or whatever when things are more settled. Can I just have a hug?”
“A really tight hug?”
“Just the way I like it,” Jackie jokes weakly.
Blue squishes him tight. They share the silence together, wrapped around each other on the floor of a hospital room.
.
Anonymous asked: Everything will be okay, Jackie. These people are here to help and keep Dapper safe. The tubing and wires and medical equipment can seem pretty damn scary, especially attached to someone you love. But these things will help him, just as much as you can. It's alright to let him stay here for a night or two, I completely understand your hesitance though. They will protect him, and you will see him again. There's nothing to fear here.
“Yeah?”
Jackie hasn’t slept all night and you can see it in the blue circles beneath his puffy eyes. He rubs at his face and sinks back against the hospital chair. Don’t ask him how he convinced the staff to let him stay all through the night. He has a weird feeling someone’s taking pity on them. But if it keeps him with his brother that’s all that matters.
“I guess everyone’s been nice,” he admits after a minute. “And he hasn’t seemed scared. Mostly he’s just slept, and when he wakes up he’s real loopy, but he seems… okay. Just tired, I think. They gave him the anti-psychotics intravenously so it’s supposed to be kicking in even faster than pills would. But everyone’s all gentle with him… all worried.”
Jackie kneads his fingers in his brother’s bedsheets anxiously. “I’m worried something’s really wrong.”
But all he can do is wait while Dapper sleeps.
Dapper wakes some thirty minutes later, hazy blue eyes sliding open. Jackie jerks upright and clutches his hand, staring at him.
“J,” signs Dapper flimsily.
“I’m here, man,” Jackie swears, squeezing his fingers before letting his hand go so he can sign.
“What day is it? Where are we?”
“We’re at the hospital. It’s, uh…. summer?”
Dapper smiles slowly at him.
“How do you feel?”
His eyes drift away. He sighs deep and sleepy, running his fingers through his limp hair and glancing at the wires he’s connected to when they get in the way. He thinks about it for a while, glancing out into the warm sun through the window.
“I feel pretty good,” he signs honestly, blinking. “My head’s pretty fuzzy. Not sure what happened. But I feel good. Really good, actually.”
Jackie seems to wilt with relief. “Good… good. I’m sorry I didn’t… I should have brought you in earlier, I think, but I was just scared…”
His brother’s blue eyes turn to look at him. There’s no irritation or disappointment to be found. JJ smiles fully at Jackie, gold in the morning light, and reaches out to squeeze Jackie’s fingers in return, leaning back against his pillows and letting his eyes slide shut again.
nikkilbook asked: Hey there, Jaimer. Good to have you back.
“Hey, there,” he says. “I do feel a little foggy.”
“That would be the drugs,” says Jackie warmly.
“Right.”
“I think the doctor wants to come talk to you soon. They might be pretty suspicious, pal. You don’t have much scarring - you heal really well - but you’re not exactly a healthy guy.”
“Oh, no, you talk to them for me. Tell them you’re my translator or something. I’m not really supposed to talk to doctors.”
“Who’s going to stop you?” asks Jackie gently.
Dapper’s hand rises to his throat for a second. Jackie recognizes the start of Anti’s sign name, but a second later, JJ’s fingers fall away.
He blinks, listening for a second.
He stares around the room.
Nothing moves.
“Holy hell,” signs JJ.
And then, after a second, he adds:
“He’s dead.”
Jackie watches him, mouth down-turned. “Yeah,” he replies.
Jameson nods slowly. “Wow.”
They sit. Birds flicker by the window, free in the air.
“How do you feel?” asks Jackie for a second time.
“I feel sad,” signs JJ. “And sorry for him. It’s very quiet. It does hurt. But it’s okay. I think I’m glad too. I think I’m glad.”
“Yeah. I think I get that.”
“Dead, wow. Anti.”
“Yeah.”
“Does it…?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes it hurts all of us, I think. Even Blue is fucked up from it. He won’t admit that but he is. It’s okay to be sad.”
“I wish… I guess… but no. He’s dead. It was time. It’s a good thing.”
“Just feels kind of bad.”
“Feels pretty bad. But sort of okay too. Sort of alright.”
scunneredzombie asked: Jameson!! Welcome back to the waking world, I'm glad you're feeling well. Be careful with the doctors, they might not be very 'on top' of things like demons and monsters and magic. Try to twist things in a less magical way when they ask about the abuse, perhaps? I know you don't want to hide, but you must be careful as well.
JJ scans the message, eyebrows folding as he looks up at Jackie. “What am I supposed to tell them?”
“The doc thinks you’re crazy, don’t sweat it.”
“I’m a little crazy…”
“Yeah, a little,” answers Jackie, typing on his phone.
“Jackie!”
“What? Too straightforward again?”
The doctor comes through the door, clipboard in hand, a moment later. It’s the same man from yesterday who was sitting in the corner when Jackie came to find his brother. He’s an old guy with glasses. Jackie’s been watching him coming and going all night, mostly just double-checking JJ’s vitals or whatever and asking Jackie how he’s doing before sweeping out again and letting the nurses take over. His badge reads ‘Ryan Bowlan.’
“Well, look at that. He’s awake. Good morning,” he says, smiling at Jameson. “Good to see you up. How are we feeling? Shall I grab the translator?”
“I can translate for him just fine,” says Jackie.
“I feel okay,” says JJ, sinking back against his pillows.
“He feels okay.”
“I think you gave your brothers a bit of a scare. Do you remember what happened?”
JJ glances at Jackie. “Not really.”
“He says not really.”
“That’s alright, then. We’ll see what we can get figured out. I’d like to go over some of our concerns just you and me and the translator, if that sounds alright. What do you say?”
“I said I can translate for him just fine,” Jackie repeats tersely. “You can talk about whatever you want with me in the room. He’s fine with it.”
Anonymous asked: Jackie, you should let them talk alone. Don't make the doctors suspicious, they might blame one of you or the other brothers for the scarring/abuse symptoms going on with JJ. JJ might also have things to say that he can't say in front of you that he needs to tell doctors.
Jackie’s instinct to turn on you in curbed by the realization that he can’t shout at a camera without looking equally psychotic. He bites down on his mouth, his leg bouncing rapidly, and shoots you a dirty look. JJ snaps at him for his attention and gives him a warning look in return.
“I can translate just fine,” signs Jackie. “You’re nervous, I know you’re nervous. I’ll stay.”
“No, not about me, you know that’s not about me. This is the control issues and overprotectiveness everyone keeps warning you about. They’re talking sense so stop being a puffed-up bird about it. I’m a little nervous but I’ll be okay for five minutes. I have the cameras anyway.”
“The cameras can’t protect you if he decides to - to - ”
“To what?” laughs JJ weakly. “Jackie, he’s a doctor. He’s not going to attack me.”
“You don’t know. You don’t know that.”
“Go pace outside. You are my brother so you trust me, right?”
Jackie’s gnawing so hard on his lip that the doctor actually steps forward for a second, a flash of concern on his face, but finally Jackie lets out a seething breath, a bit of blood on his lip, and gets to his feet, tucking JJ in before turning with a dark look and stalking past the doctor.
“Kiss, kiss,” he signs at his little brother. “Cameras, tell me if he needs me.”
“Kiss,” replies JJ warmly. “I’m okay.”
“I’ll be right outside.”
“Okay.”
Anonymous asked: What does the doctor have to ask?
Jackie paces in the hall, occasionally sneaking glances through the window in the top of the door. The translating nurse is in there now, but Jackie can only just see his back, and he doesn’t know what they’re talking about. He finds a chair and rocks back and forth on the legs, ignoring the looks it gets him as he thuds against the tile.
“I’m sure he wants to ask about him being so… thin and torn up and sick,” mumbles Jackie, chewing on his nails. “What if he does think we’re the ones who hurt him? What if he doesn’t let him come home with us?”
“Jackie?”
He’s never been so relieved to see Blue coming towards him. He holds out his arms and is rewarded with a tight hug.
“They’re in there with him?”
“Yeah. He said he was okay alone. I didn’t want to leave him.”
“Well, if he says he’s okay, I’m sure he is.”
“How’s things at home.”
“Um… okay. Chase is avoiding me. I think now that I realized he might not be doing so well he doesn’t want to talk about it.”
“We’ll corner him tonight, then.”
Blue chuckles. “Okay.”
.
“So what’s been going on?”
JJ stares up at the doctor, hands twisting in his lap.
“Your brother said he found you in your apartment. He thought you’d been there for a while, Kayden.”
His name’s not Kayden, but it doesn’t much matter. He needs to find the balance between the safety of lying, the necessity of some truth, and his own beleaguered delusionalism.
“It’s been a long time since you’ve been healthy,” adds the doctor quietly. “What’s going on?”
“I couldn’t get out of my room,” he signs finally. The translator speaks aloud for him.
“Why’s that?”
“I wasn’t allowed.”
“Okay. Okay.” The doctor takes patient notes in his chart. “Who was stopping you?”
JJ sighs, shaking his head. “Um. Anti.”
“Can you spell it for me?” signs the translator.
“A-N-T-I.”
“Anti? What’s Anti?”
JJ’s mouth twitches with a tired smile, just for a moment.
“He’s my monster,” he signs softly.
“Your monster. Okay. Tell me about him.”
JJ puts his hands over his eyes and goes quiet.
scunneredzombie asked: You can do this, JJ. Tell them anything you need to, you can get through this. It might be helpful to talk about Anti as though he's either a human brother or a delusion?
“It doesn’t really matter anymore,” signs JJ. “Because he’s gone.”
“Is that a good thing?”
JJ squeezes his eyes shut. Ouch.
“Yes, I know it is. It doesn’t always feel like it is but it is.”
He doesn’t want to cry in front of strangers. He scrubs at his face and lets out a breath.
“What got rid of him?”
“My brother got rid of him.”
“The same brother who brought you to the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad he found you. How long were you in your apartment?”
“A long time. Sometimes I would try to get out but I couldn’t. I’d get in trouble, you know, with Anti, so I think I lost hope. Some days it was hard to remember there was even anything outside. Just in my room day after day. He told me I couldn’t leave. He was a monster, you know. He looked just like me and my brothers but he was not like us. My brother stabbed him.”
“He stabbed him?”
“I wanted to help but I was just crying. I didn’t want him to kill him. I’m a coward.”
The doctor squints his eyes at him for a second before his face is professionally sympathetic again. “Sounds like you’ve been through a lot. We’re here to get you some help, okay? Do you see Anti now?”
“No… he’s gone. He won’t come back. Well, I guess sometimes I’ve been seeing him and hearing him. But really he’s gone because my brother saved me even though I didn’t deserve it.”
The doctor leans forward to set a soothing hand on his wrist, but JJ jerks back in alarm.
“Please don’t touch me!” he signs. “That’s not allowed, that makes me go crazy.”
“I’m sorry, Kayden, I won’t touch you then. What do you mean when you say that?”
“I’m still just Anti’s killer, really, I - I just lose control - I hurt people. He would bring people to my room and make me hurt them, but I - ”
“Hey,” says the doctor clearly, setting his hand gently down on the sheets of the bed instead. “There was no one else in your apartment. I think things are okay. Do you see anybody hurt right now?”
“No… no, I think the medication’s working okay.”
“Well, that’s good. Are you okay with being on medication?”
“Yes, I’m happy about that. I feel terrible when I’m off the stuff. Scared all the time.”
“Are you scared now?”
“Yes, but not so bad. Not nearly so bad. And just of normal stuff. Not Anti controlling my brain or my brothers secretly being possessed. Just normal stuff.”
“Okay. Well, Kayden, I’d like to review some blood tests we did yesterday. There’s some concerns I’d like to address but we’re going to get to work on all of them. I can talk to your brothers about it too afterwards and we’ll all make a plan for how to tackle this. Does that sound okay?”
JJ blinks, looking up at his eyes. He doesn’t look like a bad man. And the thought of actually knowing what’s going on with him - and better yet, being able to do something about it - well, that sounds wildly good to him. Impossibly good, almost. Is this what normal people do? If you’re in pain, you try to fix it?
“Yeah,” he signs. “I think that sounds good.”
Anonymous asked: Hey Jackie, in your note that morning you mentioned you might've found somewhere to stay and people who could help. What did you find?
“Oh! Yeah!” Jackie pulls a yellow pamphlet out of his hoodie pocket and hands it to Blue, pointing at a number under ‘housing.’ “I went to the Victim’s Advocate place in the middle of town. Told them I was trying to get away from someone who was hurting me. They said that this place will set you up in a hotel and then help you apply for housing if you’re broke. Like, low-income housing, you just gotta pass a background check. So they can get us in a hotel tonight I think, maybe two if we call from different numbers.”
Blue blinks up at him. “Jackie, that was pretty smart.”
Jackie shrugs. “You said we needed somewhere to stay, so I found somewhere.”
Blue rubs his shoulder, grinning at him, and flips through the pamphlet. “This could help us get food assistance and jobs too. This is great.”
“We just have to stay on the down-low. If anything connects us to the murders and thefts we’ve done, we’re lost. We’ll have to run again.”
“Well, then no more getting in fights,” Blue warns him. “Jackie, you have to find something else to do with the aggression.”
Jackie sighs and slides back in his seat. “Working on it.”
“You could have told me about this earlier too, ha.”
“Well, I guess I got distracted.”
The doctor is stepping out into the hall a moment later and turning to look at them.
“Good morning,” he says politely. “Can I meet with you two in my office for a minute?”
Blue and Jackie exchange rapid looks.
scunneredzombie asked: Chase, Henrik, how are you doing? Everything is going okay at the hospital I think, they're taking care of each other. No one checked on you two in a while so I'm making sure everything's good!
“We’re okay,” sighs Chase, stacking a domino on its side. Trying to engage Henrik has resulted in the pair of them making domino towers for the better part of the day, but at least his twin looks at ease, carefully arranging the dominoes higher and higher with a precision reminiscent of his more alert days. “Not doing too much, I guess.”
He takes a swig from a beer stolen from the fridge and sits back with dull eyes, watching his brother build. There’s something haunted in his face today, and his fingers, drumming against the table, are impatient and frustrated.
“Dok?” he calls.
Henrik places one domino on top of another.
“Henrik. Dok. Deutsch. Hey.”
Henrik scratches at a bandaid on his cheek and picks up another domino. Chase slumps back against the couch, shaking his head, and takes another drink.
“Just let me know if we can go to the hospital for a turn. I could use a change of scene.”
.
The doctor’s office is filled with plants.
Jackie picks at a succulent on the desk, leg bouncing. Blue looks carefully around the office, much more still than his brother, hands clasping hard on his knee. The ferns and plants throughout the room shift slightly as he pulls at the reassuring buzz of his power, waiting for a threat. Waiting for a fight.
“Thanks for coming in,” says Doctor Bowlan.
The twins stare at him, eyes flickering as he shuts the door behind him and traps them in the room, heading towards his desk and taking a seat.
“I just wanted to sit down with you to talk about some of your brother’s behaviors. He signed a form for me to talk about some of his symptoms and information with you. Do you have a few minutes?”
Jackie and Blue exchange looks, mouths setting in sync. Here it comes – the questions about scars and trauma and monsters in their memories. They have to balance staying on the down-low with providing enough information to get JJ help. Jackie lets Blue do the talking. Jackie’s in charge, sure, but Blue’s the better liar.
“Sure,” Blue answers. “Yes, please, we want to know what’s going on with him.”
“You said he’d been living on his own for a while before you visited him?”
“Yeah,” says Blue. “He has an apartment in town. Or had an apartment. When we came to visit him he was just… wandering.”
“It’s a good thing you did check on him. Seems he’s been off his medication for a while. You put that he has schizophrenia in his file? I don’t see a diagnosis.”
“He was diagnosed in another country. He travels a lot. Not sure if it was ever official, though. Just know he used to be on Haldol.”
“Unfortunately I’m concerned that some of his behaviors are extending beyond the scope of schizophrenia.”
Blue blinks, glancing at his twin. “What does that mean?”
“Your brother has a very powerful delusion that he was trapped in his room for several years,” says the doctor, looking up at them both. “Or it seems to be a delusion. Sometimes he’s more clear than other times. Sometimes he tells me it didn’t happen. Sometimes he says it did. Why would he say something like that?”
Blue shrugs, mouth pursed. “He has delusions about time travel and international crime, too.”
“Your brother has some really concerning scars.”
“I’m scared he’s been hurting himself.”
“I’m scared someone else has been hurting him,” replies the doctor, voice a little flatter, leaning slightly forward. “Because last I checked, most patients, whether or not they have psychotic disorders, do not self-harm with bite marks in their wrists, poorly set bones, and remnants of what appear to be belt marks across their back. His blood work suggests he’s been under-medicated for more than a year. He’s malnourished, vitamin deficient, traumatized, isolated, and just scarred enough for any doctor with a pair of eyes and half a brain to know that something messed up is going on here.”
Blue’s mouth is dry, but his eyes are stinging. He stares down at the floor.
“Have you called the cops or what?” asks Jackie coldly after a moment, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I’d like to know how to help you,” Bowlan hisses back, his dark eyes flashing. “Because guess what, guys? You also appear to be – how do I put this? – messed up. Over-protective, paranoid, aggressive with the nurses, secretive, scarred-up, visibly hungry… or did I imagine you swiping donuts from the break room with all the confidence of an experienced thief?”
Jackie squirms guiltily, chewing on his mouth, his left hand gripping Blue’s wrist defensively. After a second, he tugs on it firmly, and the two of them get to their feet.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Blue.
“Don’t go,” the doctor shoots back firmly, his eyes flashing. “Don’t you dare go or I’ll call Adult Protective Services and the cops, and then keep your little brother in the psych ward until a very thorough social worker has decided that he is safe with you – or not.”
Jackie’s hand is shaking around Blue’s wrist. They both stare at each other for a second. Blue draws his shoulders back and Jackie follows suit, taking a deep breath in. They turn back to the doctor.
“What do you want?” asks Jackie.
“Nothing, guys, nothing,” protests the doctor, voice softening as he opens his hands. “To help, that’s all. To know that he’s safe. If I thought one of you had done this to him, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. What the hell are you lot running from?”
Blue shakes his head. “It’s a very long story,” he whispers.
“Are you safe now?” asks the doctor seriously. “Is someone going to come try and hurt him?”
“No,” says Blue softly. “I took care of it.”
The doctor nods for a second, looking up at them. Then he gets to his feet and takes off his lab coat. “What’s your guys’ names again?” he asks.
Jackie and Blue blink.
“Uh – just Ro is good,” says Jackie.
“I’m Matti,” says Blue.
“Ro. Matti. Okay. Well, I’m Ryan. Can I get the pair of you some lunch?”
Anonymous asked: Blue, Jackie, talk about Anti as though he's a human, an abuser who kidnapped all of you. It would make it easier for the doctor to understand. And for lords' sake let him buy you a lunch, y'all need it.
“I… could use some lunch,” Blue offers at last, glancing at Jackie, who’s so taut he looks like he might actually attack Bowlan. But Blue knows he’s hungry too, and he’s trying not to do anything that will make anyone think they can’t look after JJ.
“Great,” says the doctor, with all the caution of a horse girl on TV trying to tame a stallion.
Blue thinks it’s a fair comparison a few minutes later, watching Jackie shovel cafeteria nachos breathlessly into his mouth. It actually makes him smile despite himself. What a mess. They’re all a goddamn mess. He picks at a chicken salad, watching Bowlan warily and trying to figure out where to start.
“I didn’t find him in his apartment,” he says finally. “Or on the street alone.”
Bowlan is an old man with white hair and dark, intelligent eyes. He watches him carefully.
“We were in America,” says Blue. “And the demon he talks about was someone we knew. Not a hallucination. We realized he was hurting him… hurting all of us… so I stopped him.”
Bowlan nods slowly, an illusion of carelessness as he drinks from a cup of tea. “Kayden says you stabbed him.”
Blue stares at his chicken. Jackie is gripping his knee tight, the two of them bent towards each other, a united front against whatever comes, and Blue loves him, and knows he loves him too. They look at each other and Blue lets Jackie keep going.
“The past doesn’t matter so much now,” says Jackie. “Cause he’s gone and won’t hurt us anymore.”
“It doesn’t hurt anymore?” asks Bowlan.
“It will be good soon,” says Jackie. “Just give us a little time.”
Blue realizes, with a rapid and clarifying sense of shame, that Jackie is parroting his own blind optimism.
“I didn’t ask about soon. Does it hurt now?”
Jackie glances at his twin and then back at the doctor. “Does what?”
“What you’ve been through. Is it still hurting?”
Jackie looks down at his plate, sifting some chips around. “Well. Kayden’s pretty sick.”
“Are you sick?”
“I’m… no, I’m good. I just - it’ll be good soon.”
“It’s Ro, yes?”
“Yes, I’m Ro.”
“You have some deep scars in your face.”
Jackie plucks self-consciously at his beard.
“Where are those from?”
Jackie looks away, face coloring.
“From him,” he says.
“Anti?”
“From Anti. Yeah. But that’s…. those are just old scars. So no, they don’t hurt anymore. It’ll be good. We should talk about Kayden.”
scunneredzombie asked: It's okay to talk about how hurting you are, Jackie. You came out of it with scars and trauma too. You're not alone in your pain, and JJ and you have been through the ringer and pulled back again. It's okay to acknowledge that it hurts. Not everything is okay, but that's okay.
Jackie purses his mouth before sticking another handful of nachos in it.
“I’m just taking guesses here,” says Bowlan. “But the only reason I’m bringing it all up is because I expect that the pair of you need some medical attention as well.”
Blue and Jackie exchange sulking looks. Blue sips at his fizzy drink.
Bowlan sighs.
“Okay. Let’s talk Kayden.”
“Please,” mumbles Blue.
“Schizophrenia is one thing. There are ways we can work on handling it. Sometimes schizophrenia does not respond well to treatment or medication, but based on what you’ve told me, I think some behavioral therapy and medication, along with social support, could really help Kayden improve.”
“That’s great. But you said you thought there was more than schizophrenia going on.”
“Well, there’s the obvious things - vitamin deficiencies and some other things I want to look into. His bones are pretty brittle. I’m not surprised he has old fractures. But psychologically, yes, I’m worried about other things. Your brother’s traumatized. I’m concerned about Post-Incarceration Syndrome.”
“What… what is that?” asks Jackie. “Like, what does that mean?”
“No matter what happened to you boys, it seems that Kayden has really felt that he has been alone – and possibly stuck in his room – for several months, believing that this Anti is forcing him to stay inside. So, while Post-Incarceration Syndrome is usually applied to someone who has been in prison, I think it might describe some of what your brother is going through. It often includes PTSD – the reliving his terror, the paranoia, the panic attacks and breakdowns – and can even include Stockholm Syndrome, which, in what I have to admit would make a very interesting case study, he seems to have developed through his own hallucination. Most concerningly, I think that Kayden is demonstrating Social Sensory Deprivation from long-term isolation.”
Blue’s stomach flips. He stares down at his plate, losing his appetite fast.
“He has some stimming behaviors consistent with intense social deprivation, including, at times, self-harm, slamming his head into things or biting his fingers to blood. He’s deeply obsessive. You’ve probably seen the way he draws for hours and hours at a time, often unable to stop even when someone tries to pull him out of it, and sometimes drawing the same thing again and again and again. He gets overwhelmed if you talk to him for too long, but at the same time, he seems almost alarmingly desperate for social interaction. He needs to be with people right now.”
“We won’t leave him on his own again,” whispers Blue, unable to meet his eyes. “We… couldn’t do anything about it til now.”
“All we can do is move forward,” agrees the old man kindly, stirring his tea. “I’m just sorry he’s been through so much. And I’m glad he has you now.”
“Yes, forever now,” agrees Jackie. “I promise.”
“But there is another reason I’m bringing this up. Post-Incarceration Syndrome can also include personality changes and a shifted view of the world. In Kayden, this is appearing as learned helplessness and submissiveness, generally ingrained in a person as part of their survival mechanism in an oppressive or abusive environment. He has felt that he is completely at the mercy of this monster for a very long time, and that would make it difficult for anyone to get out of the mindset that kept them alive.
“On the other hand, in some prisoners, it manifests as aggression towards others and more angry, defensive personality traits and outbursts, trying to protect one’s self from the abusive environment by lashing out. But Kayden has been mild – and in fact quite kind – so long as he isn’t hallucinating a threat. There can also be a need for control and a preference for the set-up of the abusive system even if it was problematic. They’re called Institutionalized Personality Traits – or just Antisocial Personality Traits. And I bring this up, boys, just because I wonder if maybe Kayden isn’t the only one displaying some of these behaviors.”
Blue and Jackie look up together, and then at each other, sharing the same expression of alarm. Just as quickly, they turn back to their plates, Jackie scraping up his chips while Blue takes a hasty sip of his drink.
Bowlan laughs and then clears his throat apologetically. “Sorry, it’s just that you two are certainly twins. I think you must be using telepathy.”
Blue sighs, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “We just… we’re here for Dap – for Kayden.”
“If Kayden is the only one who’s been through hell in the last few months, then sure, let’s focus on Kayden,” Bowlan agrees, picking at his salad.
“I do have some control issues and a bad temper sometimes,” says Jackie. “Hard to keep my emotions in check. That’s probably all you’re seeing.”
“Ah,” says Bowlan, visibly unconvinced. “And yourself, Matti?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” answers Blue blankly.
“You’re also quite thin, the pair of you. A little more active, I would guess, but quite thin. A little scarred up. A little panicky at times, if you don’t mind me saying. Look, we don’t have to get into it, I’m not a shrink, just… think about it. About getting some help for yourself.”
Blue turns away darkly, but Jackie’s wheels are already spinning, absent-mindedly sifting his chips through cheese. He does have angry outbursts. He does cling to the brother system and relive bad shit that’s happened to him, and sometimes he feels so angry at everyone else around him that he just wants to slink home to his brothers and spend the rest of his life hating the world until it stops scaring him. Post-Incarceration Syndrome. It repeats in his head.
Maybe it’s a name for the enemy he’s facing.
And if he can admit that there is an enemy to face, if he can admit that there is something that’s hurting him - well, maybe then he can fight it too.
“What do we do to help Kayden with all that, though?” asks Blue. “Social isolation and learned helplessness and Stockholm Syndrome. Like a therapist, okay, sure. But what do we do? As his family?”
“I think it will be really good for him to be living with someone again,” Bowlan encourages. “Keeping him company, providing him with the social stimulation he’s been missing. Just helping him live again, you know? He needs hobbies other than drawing for fourteen hours a day. Needs to get out of the house, to meet people, to remember who he was before all this. Help him make his own decisions and give him power in his life again so he doesn’t think he just has to lie down and let this all happen to him. Respecting his choices is going to be key here. I’ve been watching you two – I know you want to take care of him. But you will need to be able to let him decide how to take care of himself too once he’s feeling a little more stable. Otherwise you’ll just become the new boss to him.”
Blue nods. He supposes that’s what the cameras said too. Tearing down the big brother system. Treating Dapper like an equal. In the abstract, it all makes sense. He just needs to start applying it. Harder than it sounds, but… necessary. Vital, even. Shit, this is going to be difficult.
"Do you have any questions for me?” asks the doctor.
Anonymous asked: Hey Chase, how is Noodle doing? You haven't mentioned your kitty in a while.
“He’s in the garage,” mumbles Chase, kicking his feet against the carpet. “Scratches up the curtains if we let him in. Not that we haven’t already fucked the house up. I wish we had somewhere of our own to stay. Even just a wrecked cabin somewhere. We’ve lived in worse. I just wish something would change.”
He takes another slow drink of his beer and sets it down, empty, beside the second at his feet. Henrik stares at him for a second.
“What?” sighs Chase. “You okay? Or less okay than you usually are? Jackie said he’d try to bring us more food today, but we have water and stuff. What do you need?”
Henrik just gazes at him. Chase bites his teeth, suddenly and painfully angry. He wants to fucking shake him.
“I wish you’d just say anything to me, Deutsch,” cries Chase. “Aren’t you there? Can I have another hug? Do you even know it’s me next to you? Please just tell me what to do for you.”
Henrik ducks his head slightly, still staring up at him. Big blue eyes. Big and endless. Chase squints back at him, searching for any sign of his twin.
Universe eyes, going on forever.
Sharp blue, oceanic.
Chase blinks, dazed.
Are you tired? You look tired.
Blue eyes darkening.
Just lie down, Trick. You’re tired. You’ll be good for me, won’t you?
He can’t seem to move. He is tired. He’s not angry anymore. The house is comfy and they have everything they need. He doesn’t know why he complained.
Henrik’s head tilts a little and their gaze breaks. Trick crumples off the couch in an instant, ragdolling onto the floor.
Anonymous asked: Ask the doctor about more of your symptoms, Jackie. See if he can give you more names for the monsters surrounding you.
Jackie sighs, resting his chin in his hands. It’s weird, but for a second he almost wishes… Blue weren’t here. Which isn’t something he’s wished in months.
“I have a lot of control issues,” he says finally. “And I think maybe it is because that was the system. Now I think that if I’m not in charge, something bad will happen to everyone. And I’ll… get in trouble.”
“What does ‘getting in trouble’ mean?” asks Bowlan quietly.
Jackie cringes. Blue’s staring at him, expression caught somewhere between warning and concern.
“Um. He chained me to my bed once. Or we just wouldn’t eat. Or just old-fashioned, you know. Like, he - he would cut me up or smack me around a little.”
“How old was Anti?” asks Bowlan.
“He was a couple years younger than me. He was the middle brother.”
And that breaks through the doctor’s professional facade. He rears back for a second, blinking.
“Oh. This was your brother too?”
“No,” says Blue quickly, grabbing Jackie’s arm. “No, he just - we called each other - it wasn’t that bad. Jackie, let’s go. Thanks for lunch.”
“He’s dead now, what does it matter?” asks Jackie miserably. “Fucking asshole. Yeah, my little brother. I thought I had to protect him. But he just hurt all of us. And I’m still scared of him even though he’s gone.”
Blue’s paused in his attempts to get him off the booth by the sudden tears in Jackie’s eyes. His brother is leaning over his empty plate, hands shaking.
“I have nightmares every night, so sometimes I just don’t sleep. I have to keep going for runs or else I’ll forget I’m free now. And I am scared. I’m scared of everything. I’m scared of fire from the night he set the forest alight. I’m scared of rope because I don’t want to get tied up again. I’m scared of fucking Coca-Cola because he bought me a drink the day he put me in prison and then took me out again. I feel like… I’m dying. I don’t know of what or why, but most nights I sit awake and think that - that I’m going to die soon, that I won’t live very much longer, that maybe it would be better that way.”
Blue falls back into his seat, grabbing Jackie’s hand, mouth parted.
Anonymous asked: Blue, do you think this explains your angry outbursts and your dissociative symptoms? You might be struggling with this as well, you and Jackie both. You can't say you didn't feel like a prisoner to Anti.
“I don’t… I don’t have…”
“You don’t?” asks Jackie, voice breaking. “It’s just me?”
“No,” answers Blue immediately, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to think. Fuck, he doesn’t want to do this. Doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to be here, doesn’t want to break down. Can’t break down! He’s fine!
“What’s dissociative?” asks Jackie weakly, turning to pull Blue’s gaze back towards him. “What’s that? You’re sick?”
“No, it means - it’s just - ”
Blue glances desperately at Bowlan, but the doctor seems to have decided to let him wade this one out on his own.
“Just some body issues,” manages Blue.
“Cause of how Anti used you?”
Fuck, no, no, now Blue’s eyes are burning too. He buries his face in his hands, breathing unsteadily.
“Yeah, Rose, sure. Cause of how Anti… yeah.”
“You are angry, Azul,” adds Jackie softly, wiping at his face. “You’re as angry as I am, you just pretend you’re not til you snap.”
Blue’s so tired. Down to the heart of him. He slumps back in the booth, exhausted, ugly, worn through to brittle bone.
“I just… need to make up for the fact that I let you all get into this mess in the first place,” he says finally. “Marvin should have done that. I guess I’m more angry at him than anyone else. But it comes out on everyone.”
“Are you experiencing dissociation?” asks Dr. Bowlan.
“It’s a long story,” says Blue quietly. “Just hard to feel like you own your own body after what I’ve been through.”
It’s Jackie turn to hold his hand. Familiar, torn-up gloves curl around Blue’s palm. And they’re still leaning towards each other. Still united against whatever.
“Sorry,” sighs Blue.
“Don’t have to be sorry,” answers Bowlan mildly.
“The truth is he was a fucked up person,” says Jackie, still watching his twin. “Anti was. And he got us into a lot of fucked up shit. We can’t go back to America. We want to get back to England where Kayden grew up, but we’re broke in more ways than one. We… we kind of…”
“We need help,” finishes Blue after a moment.
Their hands are bound together.
“Yeah,” says Jackie. “Yeah, I think we need a lot of help.”
It’s making him cry. Blue loves him for admitting it. Loves him for sitting here with him and holding his hand. Fuck, he is lucky to have siblings like this. Jackie is powerful in a way Blue can’t even comprehend some days. He gets up and gets up and gets up again. Unstoppable.
“I have some ideas, if you’re open to them,” says Bowlan. “I’d love to help. There’s lots of people who would.”
“We can be a handful,” laughs Jackie. “We actually have two other siblings at home, and Schneep hasn’t spoken in weeks. Since Anti died. We don’t know why. I’m worried he was oxygen-deprived and just… his brain… we’re a handful.”
“Okay. I understand. Way I see it, we can take some definite steps, yeah? I’d like you all to come in for a check-up. I’d be happy to do it during my office hours, does that sound alright? Get all caught up on shots, check on everyone’s diets, everything. If it needs to be pro bono then it will be pro bono. Yeah?”
“Yeah,” says Jackie, unable to stop himself crying now, tears racing down his face. “Yeah, yes please.”
“And your brother who’s not been talking, I’ll set him up with our best neurologist and we’ll get a brain scan and such done. And I think the lot of you should talk to our social worker. Knows all the resources for people who are down on the luck and we can do some mental health assessments and things like that, okay?”
Blue’s just staring numbly down at his plate, overwhelmed.
“Once you have a place to live set up and Kayden’s a little healthier – ”
“It’s JJ,” Blue interrupts him shakily. “His real name… it’s JJ.”
He doesn’t know why he said it. He just felt like he needed to know. JJ. But Ryan seems to get it, just gazing at him for a moment and then nodding, falling quiet and taking a sip of his drink.
“We’ll get everything all set up, okay?” he says. “It’ll take time and effort and there will probably be a lot of follow-up treatment and such. But we’ll do whatever we can to get it done. I just want you to stay in touch with us a little, how’s that? If I can’t see you regularly, or at least Kayden, then I will have to call Adult Protective Services.”
“No, I understand,” chokes Jackie. “I’d be happy to… to stay in touch. To have someone… to not be…”
To not be alone in all this. To not feel so lost and helpless. To not have to hide everything from everyone. For once. For once.
It’s like running in the forest for the first time again.
Jackie wants to thank him, but he doesn’t even know how to start.
“Is there anything else you need? Is there anything I can do?”
Anonymous asked: Holy shit, Chase are you okay?! We forgot to tell you in this timeline- We had a message from Anti he left on the cameras. He said he did something to Dok, left scars that won't soon fade. We suspected it was something magical.
Chase groans, turning over on his side.
“Ow,” he mutters. “Oh, shit, what - ?”
He jolts upright, cheeks flushed pink, and shoves you rapidly away.
“No, we’re good, we’re good, I’m good,” he chokes, staggering to his feet, one hand still on his head. “No, I’m okay, I…”
His voice shakes and then gives out, and he’s curled in on himself over the coffee table, sobbing in earnest.
“Will you please tell someone to come back?” he cries. “I need a break, I need a break! I don’t even remember half the time anymore, I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t remember how to get to the hospital. I don’t want to be alone with whatever’s left of him right now, fuck! He’s still in my head… he’s still, I’m just…”
Henrik, a little tense himself, nonetheless scoots over towards Chase, looking at him, hands faintly outstretched. Chase grips his hands and cries over him, squeezing at his palms. “That wasn’t you, right, Dok? That wasn’t you. I’m sorry I can’t pull either of us out of this. I’m sorry.”
Anonymous asked: Chase, amata, sunshine. You are doing every single thing you can. Don't talk about "not being able to pull you out." That is not your job, you aren't reclused to being a savior just because your brothers are hurting. Look at you, man. You're hurting too. You're in just as much pain as the others. Work together to make things feel better, don't isolate yourself. Your brothers can help with the memory issues and pain, and you can work to make it easier on both you and Henrik. Things will work out.
“I can’t be in pain, it’s his turn, we have to take shifts…”
The nonsense of his perspective has been buried over a long history of taking turns taking care of each other. He hugs Henrik to his chest, burying his face in his shoulder, and Henrik sits there like a cat which has not yet decided how it feels about hugs.
“I think something’s wrong with me,” whimpers Chase. “I keep getting so confused and dizzy.”
Henrik hugs him back a little. He stills and hides in his twin’s shoulder, relieved.
“I’m sorry I’m crying, Deutsch, I’m here…”
Anonymous asked: Jackie, Blue, one of you might need to get home. Chase and Henrik aren't having a good time. Some freaky shit like hypnotism just happened between the two of them. Chase really needs a break to rest.
“Shit,” Blue curses, getting to his feet. “Um, Jackie, is it good if I - ”
“Yeah, go, I’ll stay with JJ. And I’ll call to get us into a hotel tonight.”
“Oh, thank God. Okay, I’m heading home. Doctor Bowlan, listen - ”
The old man smiles patiently at him, raising his eyebrows.
“Um, thank you,” Blue stutters.
“Get some sandwiches for your brothers,” offers the doctor, handing him a few bills. “I’m guessing they’re as thin as you are.”
Blue can’t help but smile, clutching the bills and turning to race away.
“My Schneep’s probably like you when he’s feeling well,” says Jackie, scooping up the last of his chips. “Like a cool doctor, you know? And rich.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah.”
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maddenikaris · 2 years
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I am not sorry for who I will become in five days
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maryannmackey · 2 years
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Anyway, I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out how to let her know how I feel, and then I remembered, in one of her shows she said that it just has to be true to you, just has to be real. Say it in the way you know how. So this is what I know. I know how it feels when I get the perfect shot. When the light hits a certain way, and someone's expression is the perfect display of emotion. It feels like you've hit on something sacred. That's how I feel when I look at her. She's the perfect shot. And the perfect shot isn't about something being flawless, it's about the truth. She's the truth to me. Clarity. The world is doable when she is near me.
Honey and Spice, Bolu Babalola
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Happy 10th anniversary to FNAF!!
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psiirockin · 4 months
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crawl inside
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When the Desert Blooms
Chapter Fifty-Two
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Now available on Patreon!
Want to read weeks in advance instead of waiting for AO3? Sign up for patreon! For only a few dollars per month, you can gain early access to When the Desert Blooms as well as one to three other Patreon series.
Check out patreon for yourself here!
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cocoa-mochaa · 1 month
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Into the Pit was so fire!! I’m in love with the art direction 💟💟
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epnona-the-wisp · 2 years
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