#i really think that jackie does everything in his power to make jameson feel safe and cared for and worthy and feeling good

[jjstein2]

thinkin about how jameson will get the occasional punishment if he says things self-deprecating. how jackie will paddle him until hes crying then making him sign affirmations before he gets to cum. how jackie will make him say 'im jackie's good boy' when he's collared, praising him sweetly when jameson obeys. how jackie will kiss even his cruelest scars and tell him that he's beautiful, even with the scars, and that hes so so strong and jackie is so so proud of his boy for how far hes coming, even when jameson feels that hes broken and can't be fixed. jackie's reaffirming words build up jameson, always building him up, because all jackie wants to do is make jamie step away from his old, sacrificial life with anti and step into a better life where he's worthy and cared for. because its jackies job as his dominant to help jameson see how wonderful he really is.

[deepfriedseagullfeet]

sometimes i bounce the idea around of jameson actually having time powers and i have this au where he teleports to a completely different timeline where jameson actually never took anti as his husband and ended up living a normal life without him. and its so fucking bizarre to jameson to see himself outside of trauma, because he defines so much of himself by anti and really doesnt know who he is outside of anti.

so this other version of him has blue hair and tattoos and works as a barista and plays music and makes art and has this glint in his eyes, this zest for life that the original jameson lost a long time ago. alternate jameson is independent and has healthy relationships and doesnt have to drink himself to sleep or smokes packs of cigarettes so he doesnt start hyperventilating. in a lot of ways hes still jameson, still a bit shy and naturally kind, but hes so different too.

and its not just a shock for the original jameson, its very scary for alt! jameson as well. because while hes gone on to live mostly normally, in the back of his head he KNOWS he was supposed to be anti's mail-order bride and KNOWS that anti is still pursuing him. he lives in fear of what anti will do to him if he gets his hands on him, and he doesnt like to think about what it would be like if he was in antis control.

so seeing this other version of him who WAS anti's husband is very unsettling. and for jameson seeing this other version of him who WASN'T is also very unsettling. but jameson sticks around this timeline for a bit as he tries figuring out how to get to his original timeline and he and alt!jameson end up being friends. and jameson quickly finds out that while this version of himself is safe and good...well, everything else about this timeline is FUCKED.

he finds out that alt!jameson is very estranged from jackie and chase. he finds out that because anti didnt get jameson all to himself, he decided to take henrik and marvin as his puppets instead, and constantly has the two try to kidnap jameson and kill jackie and chase. jackie's mental health is in complete shambles, constantly paranoid and going in and out of catatonic states, trying to track down anti, trying to bring his family back together. and without the stability of jackie or henrik, chase is a complete mess. hes drinking again, hes violent and mean and does not shy away from verbally abusing alt!jameson, telling him how its HIS fault jackie is sick, its HIS fault anti took henrik and marvin away from him, everything is JAMESON'S fault.

and theres something about how things are so bad in this timeline that gets to original jameson so, so bad. because it just hammers in the idea that jameson's marriage to anti was a valiant thing, that he HAD to be with anti, so the other egos could be happy. he was meant to be the sacrifice for the others, that his abuse is justified because it means marvin and jackie and chase and henrik get to live in peace.

it hurts to see jackie and chase literally losing their minds over finding henrik and marvin and bringing them home. but when jameson was with anti, he received no such dedication. jackie did not pour all these hours into trying to find him in his original timeline. chase did not cry and scream over him. and in this alternate timeline, when puppet! henrik and marvin come for alt! jameson, they try to beat the shit out of him and scream about how much torture and pain they withstand from anti, begging him to give himself up so they can be free of anti.

its all so fucked and almost traumatizes jameson even more. alt! jameson is so afraid of anti, but when he hears original jameson tell him all about his timeline, how marvin and henrik are happy and safe, chase is kind and successful, and how jackie is stable and pours out all this love and attention on jameson...it makes him feel very very sick. he knows he should give himself to anti. he doesnt want to be like original jameson. but he knows he has to.

its so fucked. its so, so beyond messed up, everything about this timeline, everything about jameson's fantasies of "what if i never married anti" or "what if i was raised with the other egos, happy and safe and nothing bad ever happened to me" turning out to be much, much worse than his reality.

original jameson watches puppet! marvin rip out jackies throat with their teeth and he watches puppet! henrik beat chase to death with a sledgehammer and he watches alt! jameson willingly walk towards anti, wearing the decaying bleeding body of their creator, rings in hand, just wanting all this to stop, just doing what jack intended this whole time.

when original jameson gets back to his own timeline, his eyes are blank and his body is trembling and his brain is fried by the concepts he was exposed to. henrik and marvin, scarless and proud, come back from the hospital and the theatre and ask whats wrong. chase comes out of his stream with kind, soft eyes and his dog at his feet, and a fully-medicated jackie who hasnt had a serious psychotic break in almost a month at this point scoops up jameson in his arms and kisses his face and everyone who HATED his alternate self is now coddling and loving on him.

the exertion of time travel and the horror of his reality, the existential idea that jameson needed to be torn in half by anti over and over again so everyone he cares about could be happy makes him so sick he vomits on the carpet and crumbles to pieces in the arms of the others.

[beerecordings]

ohhh my gosh for the prompts i'd absolutely love to see kidnapped anti save jameson?? i really like the og fic so much still and it'd be super cool to see our fave pumpkin lad 👀

A sequel to the Kidnapped Anti AU: Features a soft Anti who was kidnapped and abused for weeks only to be saved by Jackie and returned home. He’s known for being violent, wild, selfish, and reclusive, but he’s finding a way to get along with  the family he ran away from months ago as he recovers from what he went  through. (One: Jackie saves Anti from his abuser and brings him home to heal.)

Part 1/?

Many demons avoid thinking of death.

They call themselves immortal, you know, even the few that you would not call proud. They call themselves undying.

They like to play tricks. This falsehood is a trick they play on themselves.

“I cannot die,” they say, clutching at iron wounds in their stomachs, dressed up like men.

“I am older than the earth,” they lie, birds plummeting from the sky with arrows embedded in their breasts.

“I will out-survive the sun,” they claim, draped across the forest floor, weeping as the life drains out of them.

They consider death a dishonor. Many avoid speaking of it. Thinking of it. Dwelling on it.

But not all.

Trapped in his cage, Jameson Jackson has been waiting to die for a hundred years.

------------------

“What is it?” ask visitors, too close. “What is it?”

They speak different languages. Wear different forms. Men and women and animals and fae-form, ugly and lovely and ephemeral, impossibly beautiful, disgustingly alluring.

But mostly human.

And all of them stare.

“What is it? A half-breed? An enchanted sculpture? A man, cursed? Can that be a demon? It smells so strongly of death. It smells so strongly of magic.”

He craves humanity.

He never used to, when he was young. He was wild as a mouse, roaming where he pleased, avoiding smoky cities, taking forms of bats and bears and dogs and stags more often than men or women.

Now he would do anything to return to them. He would do anything to be mortal.

His first master cut his neck open. He was a pastor, Jameson believes, so he took the form of a Paschal lamb and bleated for mercy, kicking his legs against the bars of his cage. The man cut his throat open anyway, citing the dangers of demonic enchantments, and Jameson realized something that he had never known before - any human has the capacity to hurt you for their own gain.

He had loved humans. He had loved humans. His throat wept blood across the floors of the cellar and he lay crying, remembering how he used to go dancing with the soldiers when they would come home from war. Warm hands on his waist and smiling, awed mortal eyes were replaced by crimson on his shaking flank and curses spilled across his head. He thought that he would die.

He wishes that he had.

He’s being sold again, today, and he no longer bothers to cry for mercy or take the form of small girls or scared kittens to appease his masters. All anybody cares about is his magic.

He is a mouse in the back of a cursed cage. A man’s hand reaches down and wraps around him, close to crushing his fragile bones. He does not even squeak, limp in his fingers.

“Contratrium,” says the man.

Jameson’s magic snaps. He shakes as it pours out of him.

“Ah! I can feel it,” says his master.

“You can go back whole days with magic like that,” says the old master. “Or stop everything for minutes at a time. I have a pocketwatch at home myself, chock-full of its energy. It might be the most powerful of every magical item I’ve ever collected... so you understand why it costs so much.”

Jameson wonders dully how much he was sold for this time. Paper bills. Humans sell living things for scraps of paper. He remembers how the old lady in that green house by the sea used to give him biscuits in exchange for help with her garden. He would wear a young girl and tear up her weeds, and she would tell him how much he looked like her own daughter when she was young.

Oh, he had loved humans. He had loved humans.

Now he knows better.

“How old is it?”

“I lose track.”

“Is it well-known?”

“As we discussed. Ever since it was discovered and used in the war, there are a considerable number of groups aware of its existence. You sure you’re up for it, McAllister?”

“Please,” laughs his new master. “I think I’ve owned and traded enough of its kind to know how to keep one safe by now. Is it fierce?”

“No,” answers his old master, dismissive. “From what I understand, it was a force to behold when it was young. But it’s been in captivity so long it doesn’t fight at all anymore. I’ve never seen it so much as bite. It just lies there.”

McAllister squeezes him. The mouse snuffles for air, but does not squirm.

McAllister drops him to the bottom of his cage.

“May as well be a dead thing,” one of them says.

Jameson does not care which one. All humans are the same.

And he used to love them... he used to love them... he remembers the girls at the docks with the ribbons in their hair...

McAllister picks up his cage and carries him out of his old master’s home. Jameson feels himself thrown into the back of a car and the cloying scent of gasoline washes over him, making him feel terribly ill. He shapeshifts gently into a rabbit and listens to his own weak breathing, letting his eyes slide shut as the car rattles and shakes.

Demons do not speak of death. Most of them, most of the time, avoid all thought of it.

But not all.

After all, he stopped dreaming of salvation a long time. No one is coming. No one will find him. No one who cares.

He used to love... he used to love... ah, what does it matter?

He closes his eyes. He wonders what it would be like to die.

[my-brothers-corrupted]

My Brothers, Corrupted

Chapter Three : Section Three: JJ’s Secret

Chapter One l Chapter Two l Chapter Three

Unmedicated, unwell, and feeling unwanted, Dapper is beginning to lose his grip on his powers a little, lost in old memories and old desires. When Red can’t talk him down from his distress, Dapper ends up using a talent he’s kept secret even from Anti for years, and Red finds himself in a world more wonderful than he ever let himself imagine.

Trigger warnings for psychosis, panic and distress, and vomit.

Section Three of Chapter Three: JJ’s Secret

Anonymous asked: Red, who cares. This is survival, right? You wanna get back to Anti you gotta make some risky moves to keep each other safe. Be your own person, Red. I know you’ve got an identity crisis right now but you’ve got to do what you need to.

“This was about the disguises earlier, I think,” mumbles Red, trying to sort through everything. “I got distracted… you’re right, I just - I just - I feel like if I start changing big things… It’s like admitting we won’t be home soon.”

His face is heavy with the stress of it. “Right? You know? Cause if Anti comes and gets us today, tomorrow, next couple days, well, then there’s no point in me dyeing my hair or anything like that. In fact, it would be better not to, because he might be angry I changed myself and his puppy. It’s just - I’m not - I don’t think I can admit - ”

He runs his hand over his face, shaking, tears welling up once more.

“Fuck,” he says, with vehemence, with grief. “I don’t know what I’m clinging to if Anti’s not coming to get us in the next couple days. I don’t know what to do. I have no fucking idea what I’m going to do. Why won’t he come get us? Is he really… he’s really not coming soon, is he? I’m really alone. Oh, fuck.”

Anonymous asked: You really enjoy being anti's personal baby, don't you Red? Look, I can tell, you've never felt safe with him. Don't you remember what you said on the rich side of the mountain with Blue. No, not blue Marvin. Don't you remember your anger? Your pain? Being chained to the floor, shocked, and cut, and bruised? Do you really, /really/ believe that that's love? Do you believe that being forced to slap and hit your brothers is 'family'? You're deaf to these words. You're deaf to your brothers pain.

“Fuck,” whispers Red, closing his eyes. “Please, please… you think I don’t know that I’m a monster?”

He grits his teeth hard and puts his fists in his hair, trying to breathe.

“I - I - I know Anti hurts me, but it’s because I’m bad - and I know I’ve hurt the others but I have to protect them - and I know that makes me a monster but fuck, fuck! I don’t know how to live without him, just - just leave me alone!”

He’s loud enough to make the figure in the bed beside him flinch and Red whirls, startled.

“Oh, oh, Dap, you’re awake again, thank God…”

spicydanhowell asked: this might seem trivial, but please don't give dap cigarettes. it'll make him feel nice for a few minutes, and he'll probably be relieved, but smoking exacerbates psychotic symptoms. his paranoia could get worse, And people with psychotic disorders usually find smoking more pleasurable and have a lot of trouble quitting. CBD oil would be much more effective, or benadryl if you need to get him calm quickly

“Shit,” curses Red, staring. “I didn’t see this earlier, I - fuck, well… geez, Dap, you feeling okay? What the hell, man? Please don’t ever do that to me again.”

“No, wait, I - I’m not on medication,” Dapper protests, staring at the message. “Cigarettes make medication less effective, but they can decrease psychotic symptoms. They - ”

“They said it only feels like it relieves them.”

“No, but this isn’t true for my disorder, I know, I’ve read. The dopaminergic pathway - ”

“Dap, you know I can’t read when you spell that fast!”

Dapper turns his mouth sorrowfully down and lies limp against his pillows, staring at the camera. Red sighs deeply and reaches out - timid, timid - to touch the small of his back.

“They sound like they know what’s up. Are you sure about the cigarettes? One hundred percent? It’s been a really long time since you’ve self-medicated. I think.”

Dapper shakes his head slowly. “I guess not…”

“Plus we don’t want you getting addicted. You know Anti doesn’t like cigarettes.”

A nod, slow.

“So if we’re not sure, better not to risk it. Big brother will handle it. I’ll find you… something else. I don’t know. Probably I could find benadryl. How does that sound?”

Dapper doesn’t answer, staring at the wall.

“Buddy? Are you with me? Or - are you having another episode?”

“With you,” signs Dapper dully.

“Well, if you could answer me when I talked to you, that could fucking help.”

“Nobody is listening to me,” answers Dapper slowly. “Nobody is even looking at me. I don’t even think I’m saying anything. Please leave me alone.”

Red draws back, a frown on his face.

And then, a moment later, disappointment, as he realizes his first instinct had been to grab Dapper by the hair and yank him out of bed and force him to talk.

He slinks away from his brother’s bedside and sits down against the wall again, silent.

Anonymous asked: You're not the monster Red. The monster is the one who made you believe all this abuse is normal. The one who made you believe you had to hit and beat the ones you love. The 'monster' is Anti.

Red stares at the floor.

“Maybe I’m more Anti than myself by now.”

He pushes his fingers through his hair, eyes shut.

“We… neither of us can take much more of this, can we?”

He doesn’t turn to see if Dapper answers. His little brother is hiding his face in his pillow, weak from coming out of the catatonia. No, he can’t take much more of this. He doesn’t think he can take any more of this, in fact. He doesn’t know who he is or where he is or why there’s a ghost where Jackie used to be. He needs it to stop.

“We can’t take much more of this,” whispers Red, and, too busy hiding his face in his knees and trying to keep his mind away from nightmares and self-hatred, he doesn’t bother to wonder why the room has begun to smell of dust and blood and petrichor.

scunneredzombie asked: Red, can you please hear Dapper out..? Let him say what he knows, he would probably know what's best for himself. He's right you know, cigarettes reduce negative symptoms of psychosis! Such as catatonia and excess anxiety. Just because he's younger doesn't mean he doesn't know anything.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s more complex than that. I’m not… smart,” he grumbles, turning away from you, flushed pink. “I don’t think he wants to talk right now anyway, look.”

He turns to you slightly. Dapper is pressing his clock to his forehead, closing his eyes. Red figures he’s trying to fall back to sleep. He wishes he had something to cling to like that. He thinks he used to have… things? He can’t remember. Even just a clean hoodie. He would kill for a clean hoodie. But his black one smells like garbage. He rubs his hands up and down his arms instead and thinks about Blue.

His smiling face. The way he always runs around looking after everybody. The wisping light on his hands. The color of his eyes. The sound of his dumb, snorting laugh. Waking up and knowing he’s okay. Waking up to see him breathe. Waking up and he’s still beside him. Oh, too still beside him. His terrified face. His heaving chest. Pupils as dots with terror. Blood on his arm. The forest on fire. The forest being devoured.

Red? Ro? I think Anti’s going to kill me. Don’t leave me alone. Ro? Please.

“No,” groans Red, clutching at his hair. “I’m sorry…”

Dapper ignores him. He needs to focus. He’s going to make this stop. He’s a little confused, sure, but… he can still do this, right? He coughs softly. He can fix this. He wants… he wants the real Jackie… a smile blooms across his face as you watch. Red blinks as the smell gets stronger.

bupine asked: what's that smell, red? is it magic?

“I do know that smell, but it’s… bad? Where do I know it from? It means I messed up, it - ”

Red’s eyes widen.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Did Anti fond you guys?!

“No, no.” Red leaps to his feet. “No, Dapper’s trying to use magic in the middle of an episode. Dapper’s having a snap.”

Anonymous asked: There’s no way he found you, Red. He’s with Trick and Blue. For the sake of keeping up his stupid “little brother seamus” lie it’d be stupid for him to come after you two. That can’t be him...right? Red is someone there?

“I wish it was Anti,” cries Red, racing across the room. He reaches down to touch Dapper, and then -

Teeth bared, Dapper snaps at him, shaking his head violently, his eyes glowing silver. Red falls back, alarmed, remembering, all too vividly, the feeling of being trapped underneath Dapper as they fought, the feeling of Carver’s eyes boring into him and his fists coming down again and again, with the sound of Anti’s laughter laid over the top of all of it.

“Dapper,” croaks Red, hands held out. “Please don’t hurt me, it’s me. Please, I know I haven’t always been the best to you - ”

“I know what you did, Anti!” Dapper’s hands scream. The smell on the air is so strong Red feels his nose begin to bleed. “I know what you did! Give me my brothers back! You killed them! You killed J-joy! I’m going back, I want to see him again! I want to go back, I - I can’t remember where…”

“You can’t time travel when you’re this confused,” cries Red. “You could lose yourself or me in the timestream, you could make something happen - ”

Dapper buries his face in his pillows, shaking his head furiously. “You’re not J-joy! You’re a ghost! I want to go home! I don’t know what’s real! I don’t want to lose my mind!”

Anonymous asked: Jameson, I don’t think you can bring back that much of the past. It’s better to face what’s in front of you. Why don’t you try to work with him? I know it’s a little irritating but he’s really loosing himself. It might be fruitless if he continues to ignore and belittle you, but being petty about it won’t fix it either. Just try to talk to him, communicate is key after all :)

“Mean Red,” pants Dapper, forcing himself to sit up, his eyes wild. “Mean to me. Yanks me. Yells at me. Takes me back to Anti. Slaps my head. No one is listening. No one is here. No one can see me. I’m dead already, can you see my hands moving? Go back, go back, go back. I remember - bits and pieces? Bits and pieces, my hair in bits and pieces on the floor, he chops me up, snap, I am the Carver, I am not the Carver, I am a ghost too and I can’t? Don’t - don’t want to lose my mind?”

“Dapper,” pleads Red. “Dapper.”

Anonymous asked: Red, whatever you do, don't freak out. Dapper is turning back time, he's going to hurt himself. Talk to him. Don't snatch the watch away, that'll make things worse. Get him to put it away himself. Try to level with him.

“Dapper,” calls Red, trying, at your behest, to make his voice softer. “Dapper, my little brother!”

Oh, fuck, what would Blue do?

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay, sweetie, we’re going to make it all okay. Look here at brother, come on. Big brother’s going to look after you.”

“Look after me,” snarls Dapper, managing to focus on him. “You can’t even hear me. You think I don’t know you’ve been afraid of me ever since I beat the hell out of you next to that gas station?”

Red’s face flushes with heat. He hears his heart pounding in his head.

“Newsflash, puppy,” he snarls, hurt and shame and guilt making painful cocktails in his stomach. “I was afraid of you long before that. We all are! You could get any of us in trouble just by turning back time and telling Anti we fucked up! The smell of your magic is just the smell of Anti about to beat the shit out of me! You’re the one who has his ear! You act like a baby to keep yourself safe and you fuck over the rest of us every goddamn day! It’s no wonder Anti never gave you a twin! Twins have to love each other!”

Dapper screams with air alone and leaps to his feet, clutching his clock so hard the hands inside tremble. Red scrambles away, throwing himself into the corner, terrified.

“Dapper, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, you could kill us both - ”

cest-mellow asked: dapper what are you planning, buddy?

“Go back to my house, you remember? I do not remember, remember only pieces? Pine trees like towers, birds all singing, my room has nice soft bedsheets and nobody calls me puppy! Can we go home now? Where’s Jackie gone, home? We can go, I can see it, I am not a time traveler, I am a timestream traveler, Anti never bothers to see what his Dapper can do, do you remember - Jameson? I should like to see him again, his face in the mirror, turquoise hair, my finger bleeds.”

Anonymous asked: Jameson stop. You're just going to hurt yourself. Sometimes the damage is done and you can't take it away. Magic is not a fix-all. Jackie is still there, he's just buried under a lot of trauma, same as you. As awful as it is, you both need to adapt to each other WITH each other and push forward.

“He’s still there?” Dapper reaches out his hands, reaching for Red’s face, and Red groans and tries to stand still. “Does he see me at all?”

“I can see you, I can see you,” babbles Red, letting his little brother set his hands gently on his shoulders. Dapper’s eyes wander wildly. He is seeing far more than Red can see. “I see you, I can see what you’re signing. I’m right here, I’m right here. Everything’s cool! I can be J-joy if you want, I can, I can be a good boy, I know you’re Anti’s favorite so I can listen to you instead. Yeah?”

“Anti’s favorite?” says Dapper, his face falling. “Anti’s… why… but… no, I don’t want to be…”

cest-mellow asked: jameson are you even capable of going back so far? i’m all for screwing anti over but this could be dangerous

“No, he could hurt himself!” shouts Red. “That’s not how his power works! Dap, please, that’s never been how it works. You’ll die.”

“What would you know about it?” asks Dapper frailly, pulling his trembling hands away. “What would I know about it? I’ve forgotten so much, but he can never take all of it, he can never take all of it, not from me, Jameson is in time and time is in him so how do you strip all that away?”

Anonymous asked: Dapper? Did you do something? You can talk to us, you know that right?

“I know you’re scared but you can talk to me, you can talk to me,” pants Red, his pupils minute with stress. “You can tell me everything, I’m listening, I swear. I know you’re confused.”

“So confused,” laments Dapper, turning around and around, blinking. “So confused… you promised you’d get me my medicine…”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry.”

scunneredzombie asked: Jameson, try to think rationally for us? You know your powers don't work well when you feel confused like this. I agree with you. You are not Carver, you aren't Dapper. But Jackie is still stuck as Red. You need to help him find himself, Jameson. Don't change back time to something you can barely remember, so much could go wrong. Your brother is here. You brother is still here beside you. Help him bring Jackie back to life.

“Stuck,” whisper Dapper’s hands, reaching out for him again. “Stuck… my poor big brother. He always protected me. Who made him cruel and so sad? I will go back and change it… Jackie, don’t be afraid of me, I’m sorry if I did bad things to you…”

Anonymous asked: Red for once just drop the hierarchy and just be a brother. Just listen to each other instead of trying to figure out who follows who. It doesn’t matter anymore. You keep /each other/ safe, not just you keeping James safe.

“Okay, okay, okay,” wheezes Red, reaching out himself this time to take Dapper’s sleeves. “No hierarchy. No Anti. Just us, right? Here I am. Dapper. J - Jameson?”

Dapper’s face lights up for a moment, awe and love shining in his face.

Red… Red’s never seen that look in his eyes before. Not directed at him. Not genuine. Not unforced. For a moment it stops him short.

Or… has he seen it before? A long time ago?

“Jameson,” he repeats, very softly.

scunneredzombie asked: Red, stop. Stop talking about Anti to him. Anti doesn't matter right now. The dumb top of the pack system doesn't matter right now. All that matters is that your brother is in danger. Everything will be okay, but you have to calm down and stop spewing meaningless talk about Anti. Be his brother right now, for lord's sake. He's this upset because he thinks you're dead. He /loves/ you and he thinks J-happy is dead within you. He needs comfort, he needs his brother, not Anti.

“Were we…”

Red pauses, touching his head.

“Were we friends? I don’t… I don’t remember. I think I used to love you.”

Warm water trickles from the shining silver eyes.

“I still love you,” signs Dapper dazedly, stepping closer to Red’s chest. “I still do when I can think a little more clearly. When I can see the northern lights… look, the shine of it… do you remember?”

Does he? Does he?

Warm hands washing blood from his own. A smaller body tucked in against his chest. Sleeping against him. Tucked up together in a cold little cell. Just the two of them.

spicydanhowell asked: can you spell his name for him jamie? then he'll know what you're calling him when you say j-happy. it's really good that you're calming down okay? it's gonna be okay

Dapper is shaking very hard against his brother’s chest.

“J-A-C-K-I-E,” he signs politely, beaming with that dizzy look frozen on his face. “I don’t remember your last name…”

“No, please,” croaks Red. “I’m not that person anymore. Please, it’s secret, it belongs to Blue and Anti. You’re going to get us in trouble. Sh, Dap, sh. Come here, it’s okay.”

“You don’t love me like this,” stammer Dapper’s hands, still smiling.

“No, no, it’s not that, it’s just - ”

“You afraid of me? Afraid? Not little brother? Just pet?”

“No, we are brothers, we are.”

immabethehero asked: Jamie? It's J A C K I E B O Y M A N

Dapper laughs aloud. “Okay, there’s one option.”

Red looks terrified. “Please, Dap, don’t talk about names!”

Anonymous asked: You don’t have to be like Anti, Red. You don’t have to be like Anti. Jackie, or whatever you want to be called, it’s okay. You’ve been in an environment where everything you do, everything you say is seen as a weakness. It makes sense that you would want to act like Anti, he’s made it seem like he’s the only person who isn’t scared. That’s a lie, y’know, he terrified, all the time and for various reasons. He does it to himself because he’s afraid to admit weakness. But you do (1/?)

“I have made mistakes,” breathes Red, pulling gently on his sleeves, trying to keep him grounded. “I have, so many. And maybe I’m not the person I was, and I’ve been a jerk lately, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want - I don’t want - it doesn’t mean I don’t want to…”

He stares at Dapper. He doesn’t know what he wants. He wishes he could tell him he wants to be brothers again, but Dapper… most of the time he doesn’t even like Dapper.

Spoiled brat, whining for Anti’s attention.

Younger brother forced to act like a pet to survive.

Terrifying warrior beating Red into the ground.

Tough old ally, steady at his side.

Dangerous, ticking time bomb.

Sick friend.

“I still want to help you,” says Red. “I still want to keep you safe. I never meant to grow to hate you in the first place… it’s my fault. It was never yours. I never should have let him separate us all from each other. I never should have let him pit us against each other.”

Anonymous asked: Jameson, maybe it’d be good to have a little heart-to-heart with Jackie? Instead of getting upset immediately and blaming him for everything, why don’t you try to ask him why he acts that way? I think he’s scared the same way you are and talking about it might help both of you in the end.

“Have a hard time talking when disorganized,” says Dapper, panting to himself. “Have a hard time thinking when disorganized. Please? Please?”

bupine asked: you've never been a monster, red, jackie. you've done all you can to keep your brothers safe and fuck, you've done it well. it's incredible the amount of stuff you've sacrificed for them. it's incredible that you're still alive. we're all so so proud of you for everything you've done, man. even if you think you've fucked up now.

“No, please,” whispers Red, pushing Dapper to sit down on the bed. “Please. I can’t be who you need me to be and I want you to stop being proud of me. Stop having expectations, stop pretending I’m… Jackie. Let’s all just accept that I’m Red, I’m Anti’s right hand, Anti’s red right hand, and that will never change.”

cest-mellow asked: jackie, anti isnt there! he doesn’t know anything about what you two are talking about, just have this moment with your brother. screw anti. it’s just you and jameson right now.

“But Anti will be here,” chokes Red. “Anti will find him and push him right back into the same headspace as before. And the more I let him wander from the person Anti wants him to be… the more I let myself wander… the harder it will be to go back to being those people. You have to be Dapper. No more talking about old names, okay?”

Dapper whimpers, closing his eyes, but when he opens them again, the glow has not gone away.

“Bud,” Red protests, exhausted. “Please, I thought you were calm.”

Dapper coughs and gives a sudden tremble, his shoulders heaving like he’ll vomit. A sudden fear flashes through his eyes.

“Dap? Send the glowing away, okay? I’m not asking. You have to stop. You’re a really powerful little guy and you could really ruin something or get hurt if you’re not careful.”

“Red?” Dapper reaches up to clutch at his shirt and he gives that little jolt again, the almost-retch. “Blood in my mouth?”

“Dap? What? You’re over-exerting! Like Blue! Make the magic stop, Dap, now!”

Dapper stares up at him, dazed, panting, eyes shining. A lone trickle of blood splits the middle of his bottom lip and he pales.

Anonymous asked: James, what do you need? We’ll do what we can to help you, Red included.

“My medicine,” cries Dapper. “Don’t want to be insane anymore.”

“You’re not insane, you’re just - fuck, fuck, please, Dap, you have to focus! What do you need, buddy, what do you need?”

“Scared,” signs Dapper, squeezing his eyes shut. “Oh, what have I done. What have I done. Anti’s going to be angry with puppy.”

“Dapper - ”

“Just hold on to me? Just hold onto him?”

Red wraps his arms tightly around him and rocks him against his chest, stroking his hair, shaking with fear. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Just calm down, just calm down.”

scunneredzombie asked: Have you ever asked yourself, /why/ it's a secret? Why can't you be Jackie, Red? What is stopping you from being the person Jameson loves?

Red chokes on a cry. “I just - I can’t! He… I don’t even remember him but I know that he was a better person than I was! I’ve done too much shit, I’ve - I’ve killed innocent people, do you know that?”

Tears begin coursing down his cheeks and he strikes the bed, hard, gritting his teeth in his mouth.

“Jackieboyman! The hero Anti is always mocking! I’m not a hero! I’m a villain - no, worse, I’m a fucking henchman, and I’ve spilled blood, I’ve killed people, I’ve beat my own brothers to shit because they wouldn’t do what I wanted them to.”

He dissolves into tears against Dapper’s back, clutching him close.

“And it doesn’t matter anymore!” he shouts, damn the motel noise policy. “I have to be Red! I have to be the one who hurts them so Anti doesn’t do it instead! I have to help them fall into line so they don’t get beat! And I have to keep you, Dapper, inside your own head, so you don’t fucking kill yourself with this power! I’m sorry for the things I’ve done but I can’t change now. Give me the clock, Dap.”

Dapper gasps and tries to draw himself away, but he is already trapped between Red’s arms, and his brother is wrestling with him over the clock in his hands.

spicydanhowell asked: red, i know you're scared, but you really do need to face this... your name is jackie, and he is jameson. i actually think... maybe you two should go to the magicians and help henrik. he's as scared as you are right now and they have food and medicine and its a safe place to stay where /anti will totally find you/. better than being on the run and filthy and sick. they could get meds for jameson plus henrik may have a parasite from the water, which means you two might as well. you should go :(

“A safe place, listen to them,” cries Red, tugging on his wrists. “Just calm down and maybe we can go to a safe place and you can have your medicine. Dapper, you have to give me the clock, you have to, you’re going to hurt yourself, you’re out of control.”

Dapper won’t remove his hands from the clock to speak. Red forces himself not to yank too hard, breathing heavy. Dapper makes a little “urk” sound and pitches forward again, and more blood splits up out of his mouth.

“Fuck, fuck! Dapper! I - do I call an ambulance? I can’t watch him die, no, no. Please tell me you don’t have to release this. Please, please. You’re not like Blue with his energy building up in his hands. Dapper, you can’t release time magic like this.”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red, focus on taking care of yourself and Dap. Right now, it's you two against the world and you're doing so well with what ya got.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” chatters Red, tightening his grip and making Dapper wail with terror over his pretty silver clock. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to do this. I can’t love you, I’m not allowed, I have to be big brother, but soon I’m going to get you home to the others who do love you. I don’t care if you don’t like me but you have to give me this.”

He snatches the clock from Dapper’s hands.

Dapper stares at his own empty fingers, panting.

He looks up and his eyes are still silver.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking - ”

Anonymous asked: Jameson as much as we would love that to work, I don’t think it’s going to. What’s in the past is in the past, you can only build with the pieces that you have left. Yes, Jackie is still under all that trama and conditioning the same way Jameson is under all that Dapper is. But that doesn’t mean that they’ll be the same person when they resurface. Things like this changes people, you can’t expect something like that from him. It’s not fair.

Dapper is glowing like a star. It fills his whole face up.

“You’re right, I can’t expect so much from a ghost. It’s cruel of me to ask him to be the person he was so soon. Ghosts, ghosts? Do you see - the red hood, the blue mask? Want to go home, to see him? Summoned so much power, bad Dapper! Bad puppy! Too much, Jackie, help me, afraid! Do you see the red hood, the blue mask, the laughter on his face, where did it go, where did it go?”

Blue masks and red hoods. Red groans and closes his eyes against a faraway memory of himself, blue eyes beneath a blue mask. Jackieboyman!

“You’re dead,” he tells the memory. “You’re dead. I felt you die inside me.”

Anonymous asked: Don’t be scared, Red. It’s okay to remember. You’re okay and you’re doing great.

“No,” croaks Red, terrified, backing away as Dapper crumples, and the clock in his hands is suddenly burning, burning, but he will not let it go as it fills up, fills up, fills up with power. “What is happening? What the fuck is happening? Am I about to die? Dapper, please! You’re hurting yourself!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Oh god....oh god oh god you gotta stop him, Red!

But it is too late for that now, and the power, like fire and plantlife on the top of a mountain where he once made his home, explodes.

The clock singes his hand and he screams, dropping it as a flood of silver water crashes over his head, disorienting him entirely, and he staggers about on the - this - this is not the carpeted floor of the hotel - he is torn asunder; he is torn jagged; he drowns. He’s in an ocean or a river and it’s tearing all around him and dragging him down and striking him against the rocks and it hurts and smells of blood and dust and water. Where and why and how and what, what the hell, what the fuck race through his head like dogs hunting rabbits and he can’t find the clarity to remember how to scream again; he is on his back, he is sideways, he is falling, he is on solid ground, he is on solid ground, he is -

Oh.

He actually is on solid ground.

You’re lying on the earth next to him, the chain of the clock in your line of sight.

Outside.

On green grass.

Warm sun. Pine trees like towers, breathing up towards the sky.

“What, what, what,” chants Red frantically, clawing at himself, thrashing his way to his knees. He is wearing sneakers and gym shorts and a clean, soft, weighted red hoodie, warm and comfy on his shoulders. His hair is brown without red. “What - Dapper! Dapper!”

He throws his head around, but Dapper is not there. Just the trees of the forest, and the fine blue sky, and there, if he turns his head -

A small, pretty house. At the door, someone is letting a fluffy white cat out.

“Jackie?” laughs Marvin, stepping down the stairs of the porch towards him. He has long hair, a strand of it braided back around his head, and his jewelry shines almost as bright as his clean, wide smile. “Why are you on the ground?”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Oh no

“Oh no, oh no, oh no,” repeats Red frantically, reaching out to grab you and clutch you to his chest, panicked. He grabs the clock too and you see, as it passes, that the hands have turned from black to silver. As the first minute of the hour ticks by, that one little minute marker returns to black. “No, no, no, this isn’t happening.”

Anonymous asked: Red I’m like 99.9% sure Dapper just sent you to the past

“This is not real,” whispers Red, clutching at his hair, staring around him like he thought the sky was supposed to be pink instead of blue, and the trees were meant to be mountains. “This is not… this is not even South America, this… this…”

“Jackie?” Marvin is coming towards him now, a jog in his step displaying concern. “You okay?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red. Breathe. Please. This isn't good, but breathe.

“Breathe, breathe, breathe,” repeats Red unsteadily, staggering to his feet. For a second, he draws a long, calm breath.

And then he looks up and sees Marvin fully.

“Fuck,” he gasps, grabbing at his chest. “No, no, no! This isn’t right!”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Jackie?! You good?! Do NOT freak out!

“Okay, fine, okay, I’ve got to keep calm,” Red tells himself, clapping his hands together hard, once, twice, three times, good pressure. “Okay, you know what? This is fine. I can do this. It’s probably just a weird time thing and soon it will be over and this will have never happened.”

spicydanhowell asked: shh baby it's okay, you'll just be stuck here for a little bit. think of it like a dream ok? you and jamie are okay.

“Okay, it’s a dream,” chokes Red, turning away as Marvin comes up to him. “It’s a dream, it’s a dream.”

“Jackie?” murmurs Marvin, trying to put a hand on his shoulder, but Red turns and strikes it away, his pupils blown with panic. Marvin steps back, alarmed, his hands still out-stretched.

cest-mellow asked: red are you okay?? go talk to marvin and see what’s going on. do you see dapper ANYWHERE around? maybe he landed in a bush..?

“Maybe he is here somewhere,” he mumbles, darting towards the trees.

“Wha - Jackie!” Marvin hustles after him. “Stop, stop, what’s wrong?”

“Dapper!” whimpers Red, trotting into the forest and staring around him. “Dap, please, I’m sorry. Please whistle for me, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

Birds titter in the branches above his head and go flickering past him, making him startle. The trees are sighing as the wind rushes through them, shaking down green leaves and needles. A chipmunk skitters past his feet and leaps onto the roots of a tree to put its little paws in its mouth. It’s warm and the breeze is pleasant. The trees smell lovely and he can hear a river washing by.

“Jackie,” calls Marvin gently, circling around to approach him from the front this time, his hands out-stretched. Red’s breath catches in his throat, but he does not run away this time. “Jackie, I’m not going to touch you if you don’t want, but please tell me what’s going on. You’re starting to scare me.”

Anonymous asked: Jackie, it’s still Blue. It’s still Marvin. He’s your brother, you can trust him.

“Blue?” he whispers, choked. “Is it you?”

Marvin’s mouth opens and shuts, his eyebrows furrowed down.

“Um, it - it’s me, it’s Marvin. Is someone talking to you? Is - Jackie, did Anti do this?”

A rush of fear burns hot against Red’s face and he gasps, backing away. Marvin doesn’t trust Anti. Marvin doesn’t belong to Anti. Marvin can’t know about Anti, or he will try to make Red stop being with him.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” cries Marvin, alarmed by his distress. “I - we don’t have to mention him. It’s me, brother, it’s Marvin.”

For all that he does not want Anti, Red still knows him - knows his face, knows the way he steps, the way he wears his jewelry, the way he smiles and frowns, the brotherhood that exists even now between them. Blue, Blue, Blue! He’s missed him, he’s missed him, he’s so sorry for leaving him behind!

“Jackie, don’t cry,” whispers Marvin, stepping close again, resisting the urge to touch him. “Shit, bud, what happened, what is it? You can tell me anything. It’s going to be okay. I’ll make it right for you.”

No, no. He can’t tell him.

“Had - had a bad dream,” rasps Red, his hands shaking. “Just - got freaked out for a second.”

spicydanhowell asked: jackie, please just stay calm and let marvin help you all right? none of this will have consequences. you won't be here forever okay? just tell him that jamie sent you here from the future. let him help you.

None of this will have consequences, none of this will have consequences. Red bites down on his lip and keeps it as a mantra in his head. Let Marvin help you.

“Just needed to see you,” he chokes out.

“I’m here,” promises Marvin, stepping into his space. “I’m right here.”

Anonymous asked: Oh my god I’m going to cry. Red you better hug Marvin because I don’t know how long this is gonna last.

Red’s nails dig hard into the inside of his palm, and then, despite it all -

“Fuck, Marvin,” he sobs, and crumples onto his brother’s shoulder. Immediately, Marvin is hugging him, Marvin is squeezing his ribs and burying his face against Red’s hair, and it is him, it is him, for all that it is not him it’s still his Blue.

“I’m really sorry!” he cries, clutching at the soft green dress shirt he’s wearing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“Jackie, you didn’t do anything, you’re okay.”

“I left you behind! I’m sorry! You asked me to stay!”

“It was just a dream! Jackie, come on, deep breaths. It was just a dream. Right? Or is there something you need to tell me?”

Red groans and buries himself in his shoulder again.

“You need to take a breather. Lie down before the party. Come on, should we get inside?”

bupine asked: ooh, a party? party for what, i wonder?

Red glances at you, still holding you to his stomach, though Marvin is too interested in stroking his back and looking over him for strange injuries or signs of Anti to notice. “S-sorry, what party?”

“You were helping me cut strawberries just a couple hours ago. Izzy’s birthday?”

He doesn’t know who Izzy is. He swallows and tries to smile at Marvin, his mouth shaking. “Right, sorry…”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Let’s just make sure you’re okay. Come on, we’re alright.”

He pulls Red towards the house. Red doesn’t know why the sight of it makes him afraid.

Maybe just because it’s so familiar.

He should remember it, but… he doesn’t. Someone took the memory from him. He knows. He squeezes his eyes shut.

He always knew there was a “before” and Anti had even told him he had been, at times, happy in it. Accepting that Anti did what he did for a reason - to wipe away the control of the old master, as he usually explained - Red had tried not to be bothered by it. He couldn’t remember it, anyway, so no use in dwelling. But to see it in real life?

He doesn’t think he wants it to be true. Just a dream, just a dream.

Anonymous asked: Red you really should tell Marvin what’s going on! He could help you figure everything out, maybe even find Dapper. For now anyways, you’re safe and in loving arms so don’t freak out too much okay? You’re safe.

Marvin opens the door and makes sure his shaking brother gets up the step, pulling him inside, still rubbing his shoulder. He’s more freaked out than he wants to admit. He’s been with Jackie through hard times before, but this is a new level of out-of-nowhere.

“Should I get Schneep or do you want to go to your room?”

Oh, fuck. He doesn’t know who anyone is. “I need to see - I need to see Dapper,” he says, clutching at straws. He could tell him, right?

Marvin blinks.

His hand drops away from his shoulder.

“Jackie,” he says, very carefully. “Why would you call him Dapper?”

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Red, be honest with Marvin. He seems to be just as confused as you are. Tell him what's going through your head. You can trust him.

Fuck, he’s going to be sick. He’s going to be sick. He doesn’t know anything anymore. He just wants - he just wants - he just -

He falls back onto Marvin’s shoulder, a low whimper falling out of his throat.

“Need to tell you something,” he chokes, as Marvin’s arms wrap around him once again.

“Should I get the others?”

“No, no, please…”

“Come on. We’re going to your room.”

They turn down the hallway directly to their right. Red hears someone laughing in the kitchen and the thunk of ceramics being arranged for lunch. The birds are singing and the windows are all open.

Marvin leads him to the room at the front of the hall, protecting all the others, closest to the entryway. Red stops short in front of it. There are papers pinned all over the door.

A newspaper clipping with a shadowy picture of a silhouette in a hood on the roof of a building. A child’s scrawled crayon picture with a little figure with black hair and a bigger figure dressed in red holding his hand. A receipt for fourteen one-pound bags of Starbursts. A picture of one of the others - or is it himself - being kissed by a huge white dog. A note that reads, “Jackie. You are very stupid. Fuck you. Take the aspirin I put on the table. I’m at work. All my fucking love, Schneep.”

Red’s mouth dries and his eyes water. Marvin puts his hand on the door, but Red reaches out to stop him.

“Wait,” he croaks. “Can we go to your room instead?”

“Don’t you want your lava lamp to watch and your heavy blanket and your cube and stuff?”

He shakes his head, backing away. He doesn’t own anything now. Marvin purses his lips, worried, and leads him one farther door down the hall, opening it up and letting Red slip inside.

Anonymous asked: Jackie is going to get way too overwhelmed. Bud, you need to communicate with Marvin. I know you’re scared but at least ask to go somewhere else that makes you a but more comfortable. And ask for Jamie, not Dap. Schneep is Dok and Chase is Trick. I believe Izzy is Chase’s daughter.

He tries to memorize all of it. The names don’t sound familiar at all to him. The only one he knew before he was separated from Anti was ‘Marvin,’ and that was a secret for him to keep.

Marvin knows Red is overwhelmed too. It’s why they spend a good five minutes just sitting together in silence next to his bed. Red closes his eyes and leans against his shoulder, running his hand over the thick grey rug on Marvin’s floor.

His room is nice and quiet and dark, and absolutely coated in plants. Vines surround the headboard of his bed and bloom up towards the ceiling, painted navy blue with stars on it. There’s a lamp shaped like a sun on his bedside table and three huge shelves full of flowers and herbs and vegetables and bonsai trees. He has a Night Vale poster and a cat bed on his windowsill. There’s a little drawer with a mirror scattered in jewelry and make-up and nail polish. He has pictures too, but instead of scrambled across his door or walls like Jackie’s, his are in small, starry picture frames arranged neatly on the far wall. It smells of lemon and smoky incense.

Red hates - more than he knows how to express, more than he knows how to put into words - just how much Blue would love to have a room like this.

He hates that.

He will never have a room like this.

And it’s Anti’s - it’s Anti’s -

“Fuck,” he whispers, hiding against Blue’s chest. “This isn’t right.”

“Tell me what’s happening,” says Blue, with urgency now. “Tell me.”

“I meant - I meant Jamie, not Dap.”

Blue breathes out a small sigh of relief.

“Okay… that’s a start. Why say Dap at all? You know he hates that. You have to be kind with him, you know small things can set him off. And he’s just starting to feel like Anti won’t catch him again.”

bupine asked: jackie, red, what time is this? what year? has dapper even been... created? if not, that could be why he's not here.

“What day is it?” croaks Red.

Marvin stares at him.

“Um. June… fourth, I think. Yeah, her birthday.”

Red rubs at his face.

“What… what year?”

Marvin breathes a low, nervous breath through his teeth. “Jackie…”

“Please, just…”

“If Anti’s in your head - ”

“Please, just tell me!”

Marvin stares at him. He doesn’t see any evil influence in him, but he doesn’t know exactly what that would look like anyway. There’s no way Anti could have come into his universe, is there?

“It’s 2018.”

cest-mellow asked: ohhh shoot dude! you gotta tell him what’s going on, let him help you out!

“I’m like five years in the past.” Red grabs his hair and tries to breathe.

“What?”

“I - I think I’m going to throw up, I don’t - ”

Marvin grabs his trash bin just in time for Red to rock forward and throw up something that tastes like fruit flavoring and bile. He’s never fucking eating Starbursts again. Wait, the last thing he ate was communion bread!

“Fuck you, past Red,” he groans, spitting sick out of his mouth. “You suck, man, you’re killing me.”

Marvin gives a bewildered, trembling quiver of a laugh. “I - I gotta get Schneep! What the fuck are you talking about, I - Henrik!”

Anonymous asked: Jackie now you really have to tell Marvin what’s happened. This is before Anti came right? You’ve got to warn them, even if this is a time line in which Anti doesn’t come, but you still have to do it. You were going to say it’s all Anti’s fault right? That all this got taken away from you guys? You owe it to them to try and preserve what’s left. Dapper gave you a second chance to save everyone, you’ve got to at least try to prevent it. Please.

“The only thing I should warn them about is the fact that they’re living under the control of a fucking monster!” cries Red, heaving. “They - they should go to Anti now!”

“Holy shit,” laughs Marvin, frantically freaked-out. “You’re - he’s - maybe you’re delusional too? Should we take you to Jameson’s psychiatrist? When did this start, are you - ? Here, I’ll go get Schneep, you - ”

“No,” cries Red, grabbing his sleeve. “No, stay here, please let me explain. I don’t know if I can, but I have to try.”

spicydanhowell asked: jackie, show marvin your camera. marvin: this version of jackie you're with right now was sent back in time. he's a few years older than you are now. some crazy things are going to happen in your future, okay? so jackie is just really confused and he's lost a lot of his memories. you should get him to lie down, and talk to him calmly for a while ok? tell him about your magical activities and stuff. your friends especially, ok? i'm sorry this is so strange.

“Yeah, I - I - ”

“What the hell are you looking at that thing for, Red? Where did you get a camera?”

“Listen, look, they’re trying to tell you - ”

Red pushes the camera into his hands and Marvin takes it nervously from him, his eyes scanning over the message. His mouth goes very tight, but suddenly he’s calm. He gets to his feet and Red startles, staring up at him, his hands reaching out for the camera.

“Blue?”

“Where are these messages coming from, Jackie?”

“They’re - they - they talk to me.”

“They talk to you? They tell you things? But you don’t know who they are? What sort of things do they tell you?”

“No, no, Blue, listen, please, they help me. They’re trying to help, they’re trying to help me look after Dapper and get back to - to…”

Red trails off, fear written over his face.

“To Anti?” croaks Marvin, backing away from him.

“No, no… you don’t understand!”

“Marv?” someone is calling from the hallway, their socked footsteps padding down the hall. “You good? I thought I heard shouting.”

“I’m getting this the fuck away from you,” gasps Marvin, holding you too tightly in his hands. “Jackie, it’s going to be okay, I’m going to fix this. Don’t listen to the messages anymore, we’re going to clear everything up.”

“Wait, no!”

Anonymous asked: You’re not a monster and if it takes us telling you that every time you make that claim then we’ll do it. You’re not Anti, you’re not a monster, you’re a human that makes mistakes and hard choices to take care of everyone else, right? Just relax.

“He’s the monster!” cries Red, leaping to his feet and making Marvin startle back. The door opens behind you and Marvin and someone gasps, alarmed. You shake in Marvin’s hands. “I wasn’t talking about myself! Maybe I wasn’t a monster back in this time, but the old master is using you and doing horrible things and making horrible things true! The old master - the creator! He’s why Dapper’s sick and Trick’s suicidal and why Anti is always lashing out at me! You are living under the control of a fucking monster!”

“Jackie?” cries a voice like Trick’s, terrified. “Marv?”

“Chase, stay back, something’s wrong. Go get your brothers!”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: Jackie you should tell him everything

“I’m from the future!” he cries. “I don’t know how, Dapper did something, he was overwhelmed and I wasn’t enough to calm him down, I’m not a good brother to him! But I’m here now, right? Listen, listen, please don’t look at me like that! You don’t understand what Anti is. I know he seems scary but then he’s okay once he shows you what you’ve been missing.”

“You sound - you sound - you - you.” Chase stammers violently, tucked behind Marvin‘s back. “Sound like you’re in a fucking c-c-cult!”

“Please,” begs Red, realizing he scared them by shouting. He falls back to the floor, the same way he shows submission to Anti, and clutches his hands together on his heart. “I’m sorry, I’m scared, please don’t give me to your master.”

“No one is going to hurt you,” swears Marvin, stepping forward a little again. “No one, I promise, I promise. I won’t let anything hurt you. I’m just worried about you. You don’t sound like yourself.”

“What’s happening?” comes an urgent voice behind them, accented German.

“Jackie’s talking about Anti!”

“He was on the ground outside, freaking out, and now he says this camera is talking to him.”

“Don’t look into the lens. Jackie, come here, let good doctor have look at you.”

Henrik moves fearlessly into your line of sight and Jackie’s space, crouching down beside him and taking his head in his hands. Weepy and exhausted, Red doesn’t protest.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: Marvin! Pay attention! Be on your guard!

“It can see us,” whispers Chase, holding on to Marvin’s shoulder. “Can he see us?”

whydoilovesomanyvillians asked: I have no idea were from the future like jackie said

“Great,” whispers Chase, staring at you. “This is wonderful, wonderful. Hey, let’s see if the kids can get here a little earlier, shall we? This all seems extremely safe.”

“Don’t look at it, amata, you could get hypnotized.”

aamayay asked: Jackie, calm down! Marvin is going to give back the camera, alright? So that the stress can be expelled and we can have a group discussion, peacefully, okay? Please, Marvin, hear him out. I know you don’t trust us and I mean you’re definitely not the first, the magicians in Peru were the same, but just give us a chance? We’re trying to help, let us prove it to you.

“No, no way,” laughs Marvin. “Fuck you, Anti.”

“Marv, we should destroy it.”

“I could melt it down right here.”

“No, please don’t!” shrieks Red, suddenly thrashing out of Henrik’s hands. “Please, no, anything but that, he’ll never find me if you do!”

“Sounds like a compelling reason to burn it to plastic.”

“Don’t do it when he’s this upset!” Henrik cuts him off. “Stop it, just listen to him! Neither of you know what it’s like to be under Anti’s control. Neither of you have the first fucking idea. Pray to God you never do.”

Marvin and Chase shut up.

pixie-in-trebleland asked: I don't think Anti can see you??? We're trying to help you all. Your future is TWISTED.

“Look, it - it doesn’t even matter what you say,” growls Marvin, closing his eyes, trying to think. “Jameson can’t throw people years back in time! He can reverse a day or two once or twice. And magic doesn’t do this, fuck knows what Jamie even is to be able to do even a little time travel.”

“Yeah, Jamie can’t just go for a walk back years and years, and he definitely can’t send someone else back,” agrees Chase. He’s the only one who ever remembers the change. You can catch him when he’s being sneaky if his eyes are silver though, ha. But he doesn’t work like what you’re saying. Right, Jaimer?”

Red freezes and opens his eyes. Everyone turns, and Marvin takes the camera with him.

A small, tidy young man with huge grey-blue eyes stares back at you from the very edge of the doorway, his eyes wide but not afraid, just a little nervous. He stands in the shadows outside the room, gripping the doorframe. He wears a soft button-up shirt and jeans, his hair combed neatly down. On one wrist, he wears a small brown watch, but on the other you can see the thick outline of heavy, lacing string-scars.

“Dapper?” whispers Red. “Please…”

Jameson flinches and backs away, pausing only a second before he turns to dart away. Marvin lets out a deep sigh.

Anonymous asked: Marvin, you really do need to trust us. We’re not on anti’s side- in fact, we’ve been actively trying to get him away from anti- but we’ve been with Jackie this whole time, through everything he’s been through. He’s extremely confused and in his future, Anti had all of you brainwashed and under his control and made you go by different names, which is why he’s so desperate to get back. He’s just confused, please don’t jump to conclusions right now -its-ethan-bro

Marvin stares at you. Chase tries to peek over at the screen but Marvin holds it away from him, his eyes filling up with an emotion you don’t recognize. Maybe fear. Maybe distrust. Maybe a lot of different things, none of them comforting.

He shakes his head very slightly. The breath seems to slide out of him.

Anonymous asked: Thank GOD for Henrik. Marvin can you do some type of spell to hide the signal from the camera? The magicians did that for Dok’s camera, maybe you can do it for his? Then Anti won’t be able to find you guys.

“That - that sounds like really complicated magic. This place, though - it was supposed to be safe from Anti. I’ve put up every ward in the book, I hid it under every disguise I could find, in fact it’s not even - ”

Marvin remembers who could be listening to him and abruptly cuts himself off.

“Might have been a seizure,” murmurs Henrik, running his hands across Red’s head. “Or a concussion. But the things he’s saying… he was fine yesterday, I thought?”

“He was, he was. I would have noticed if he had been like this.”

bupine asked: marvin, chase, henrik. in the future, anti kidnaps each of you and fucks with your minds. he renames you, takes your memories and conditions you to be his. he renames marvin "blue," henrik "dok," chase "trickshot," jameson "dapper," and jackie "red." this version of jackie is from five years in the future. now, this is important. where is jameson? do you know? we need to know he's ok, he wasn't coping well when he sent himself and jackie to the future.

Marvin’s air is gone. He’s ushered Chase to sit down with Henrik and Red so he can watch over all three of them at a time, and none of them have to see this.

Because it can’t be true. It can’t be. And if it is… they shouldn’t be the ones burdened to know about it.

“You’re all liars,” he whispers, covering his mouth, and then his eyes, and then his heart. But still he answers: “Jameson is here with us and you will never get your hands on him again. He’s fine, he’s doing better… much better these days. He told me he’s going to learn to be happy and independent just to fucking spite you. He’s tough, tough as nails. You’re not going to take him from me again. I can hide them. I have to hide all of them…”

florenceisfalling asked: marvin, you don't have much time with him, i don't think. please just try to show him that its okay here, that no one's hurt and everyone is happy. please. he needs to remember that.

Marvin closes his eyes. Breathes in, breathes out. He doesn’t know what’s happening, but he has more important things to worry about. And you’re right, he knows - his big brother - his friend - he doesn’t feel safe. Maybe he hasn’t felt safe for a long time, and Marv just didn’t notice. Or maybe it’s true. And this - this moment in time - is his only chance to give him a little comfort in the middle of his hell. What he wouldn’t give to have an hour to go back to Jameson and hold him while he was a puppet, tell him he would be free someday and that people would love him and he wouldn’t have to act like a pet. Or to curl up around Henrik’s freezing body as Anti beat him, and protect him from just one blow.

He gets to his knees and puts his hand on Red’s knees, drumming a soothing rhythm against his thigh.

“Okay,” he whispers, as Henrik’s gloved, soothing hands begin to calm Red down. “We’re okay. We’re okay. Nobody’s getting hurt, everybody’s good. You’re okay. I love you, Jackie.”

Red seems to bow over himself. Chase scoots close too and wraps his arms around him and squeezes, warm and steady.

“Everything is okay,” says Chase.

“Yeah,” murmurs Marvin. “In fact - well, it’s better than okay. Chase gets Izzy for her birthday today.”

Chase’s mouth blooms with a smile and he snuggles against Red’s shoulder, humming.

“And Jameson stopped hallucinating last week and he says the paranoia’s manageable. He’s talking about getting a job.”

“He’s gained his weight back,” adds Henrik.

“And Henrik, too,” grins Marvin, making his brother blush. “Henrik is seeing his therapist… and a new girl.”

Henrik reddens even worse, grumbling beneath his breath.

Red hides his eyes from them. If they can’t see him, he can pretend he’s not listening. He can pretend he’s not wishing for a life like this.

Anonymous asked: Y’know, that’s completely fair. But Anti is far worse then a cult and the stuff that’s happened is not great at all, trust us. I mean you see it right? You see Jackie? He doesn’t seem in the best shape now does he? You wanna figure out what happened? You’re going to have to listen to us to figure it out or give the camera back to Jackie. I know this is scary...but you have to trust us. That’s how we helped you in the past...or well the future.

“Please, please.” Red squeezes his eyes shut and reaches blindly for the camera, for Marvin, clutching at his sleeves. “Please, give it back to me, they’re my… they help me, I need them. They’re… they’re nice to me. They even kind of like me, even though, I’m… me. I can’t lose that…”

“Shit, fuck,” whispers Marvin, staring between the camera and Red.

“I can see it from here,” murmurs Henrik. “If something starts happening I’ll take it again.”

Marvin presses the camera into Red’s hands again. He relaxes with a groan, curling slightly in on himself.

“Hey, this does look like Jamie’s watch!” Chase picks up the little circle of silver beside him, blinking. “It’s like, a quarter silver. That’s cool, is it a timer?”

Anonymous asked: Easy, Red. It’s okay. Just deep breaths and start from the beginning. Whatever you can remember. It’s okay.

“I don’t remember anything,” whispers Red. “Until a few months ago. I woke up and you were beside me, Marvin. And that was all that I knew…”

Marvin presses down on his knee. Lets up. Presses down. Lets up. Presses down.

“I’m… I dream, sometimes, about leaving him, but that just makes it harder to wake up and realize I never can…”

Henrik gives a sudden shiver, drawing slightly back from him. Chase reaches out to touch his hand.

Anonymous asked: Take a good look at your brothers, Red. Look at how bright their eyes are, how clean they are, how healthy they look. See how there's no blood on them, no wounds, how their clothes are well-fitting and clean. Look around at the house they're in, how it's bright and lovingly decorated. Look at how they care about each other (and you!) and listen to each other. This is what Anti took from you. This is what Anti destroyed. Are you sure you want him back?

Henrik runs the latex of his gloves across Red’s chest, looking for abnormalities, and Red has a vague memory of holding still and snapping the latex gloves playfully while Henrik examined him. It is too calm a memory to have come from the last few months, he knows. Henrik looks well, a nice color to his usually morbidly pale cheeks, and he’s even strong, Red thinks, running his eyes over his body. Like he’s been allowed to run, to work out. Dok wouldn’t do that, would he? He’s something of a genius, sure, and he’s a good healer, but Red can’t imagine him doing anything else, being anyone other than Doktor. Going for runs? Helping make the cake for his niece’s birthday party? Pushing past Marvin and examining Red so calmly, with his own authority, his own confidence? Where’s the tremble in his wrists gone? Where are the dead-eyed breakdowns where he’s so numb Trick has to feed him?

He really lived like this, once? They all did? Marvin with his long, neat hair, jewelry he picked out for himself, a room full of plants? He doesn’t have to hide his magic or sneak around to make sure everyone gets fed. He doesn’t have to wait for a safe time to visit and hug his brothers. No one locks him in this room at night. He has cats. Red thought Blue hated cats. And Trick - he can’t remember the last time Trick hugged him. Maybe… maybe never, in his memory. Why would he? He’s the bottom of the pack and Red is at the top. All they do is avoid each other, or sometimes Red slaps him. But this Chase is curled up beside him, warm and unafraid, holding his shoulders. They think he’s hypnotized and they still trust him not to hurt them.

They were wrong about that, he supposes. Maybe they didn’t really know who he was. Maybe Jackie himself didn’t know who he was. Or maybe he wasn’t that person back then, but he is now, and looks down at Chase’s downy head on his shoulder, and knows that he will hit this person, and call him stupid, and useless, and a waste of space, and that Chase will run scampering when he hears his footsteps.

The thought of it was already horrible when he was living in a broken-down medical building and knew that Trickshot was going to be miserable one way or another, but to know that he could be safe and happy - to know that they could all be safe and happy and trust each other -

His brain is shorting out on him. He goes dead quiet, slumping against the bed, unable to talk anymore.

bupine asked: red, look around. you're happy in this timeline, happier than you were with anti. happy and warm and free. this is what you need. anti isn't. you have to face facts, jackie.

He just wishes Anti would be a part of this with him. He isn’t ready to let him go. But he wants this and he always has. He just buried the secret down deep, deep inside him. Strange… he doesn’t know when wanting to be happy became his darkest secret.

“More of the clock is changing,” says Chase. Marvin leans over to take it from him, frowning quizzically.

“Some water?” offers Henrik gently, pre-occupied with his patient. Red nods slowly, sniffling. He wants to be hugged and looked after and taken care of. He wants to be the little brother too sometimes.

nikkilbook asked: When the fire started on the river, Red and Dap almost didn’t make it. We we finally able to convince Red to head for the water, but then the current carried them away from you. I think Red thinks you are angry with him. Honestly, I think he thinks EVERYONE is angry with him. He misses you, but I’m not sure he feels like he’s allowed to.

Red has a glass of water and a little turkey sandwich that Chase makes him. He knows his stomach will change if he time-travels again, but he can’t help it. His brain is starving to eat even if Jackie’s body was full. He sits and lets big hot tears come rolling down his cheeks, and Henrik and Chase retreat to give him some space and murmur in the hall, and Marvin lies down beside him just like Blue would.

“Can I ask you something?” whispers Red, when he has a little calm back.

The silver on the clock is getting very thin.

“Anything,” whispers Marvin, who loves him even if he doesn’t understand.

“Was I really a hero?”

“Yes.” He strokes his hand across his big brother’s shoulder, squeezing tight, tight. “You are. You save lives. You stand up for people. Fight for what’s right. You’re a good hero. A good brother. A good man.”

Red stares at him like he’s starving for something more than turkey and lettuce and whole grain wheat.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” whispers Marvin. “But whatever happens? Whatever is coming? Jackie, we will get through it together. Okay?”

He wants it to be true. He wants it, suddenly, to not be a dream. He wants to stay with Marvin and he wants to fight for this life while it still exists, before everything changes.

“Okay,” he whispers, as the last dregs of Jameson’s power slip out of the watch.

“Promise me,” says Marvin, says Blue, says his brother, says his twin. “Whatever happens, you’re not leaving me behind. You’re going to stay with me. You’re not going to try to fight it alone. You don’t get to leave me behind. I know you. If you find a way to stop this - if you find a fight to fight - if you get a chance to save someone - you don’t get to do it alone. Do you understand? You and me, Jackie. You and me. Promise me. We can keep each other safe if we’re together. Promise.”

Something small and taut and cold hurts its way down Jackie’s chest.

And then he is gone.

The silver river comes back -

And he cries out again, thrashing -

And then he is on the filthy floor of a cheap motel, shaking like he’s been shot, and Dapper is unconscious against the wall beside him, blood dripping from his nose.

————-

“Maybe I am angry with him,” says Blue, very softly, in a hospital on the other side of the world, stroking Trick’s hair as he sleeps across his legs. “Maybe he should feel bad. I asked him to stay. I needed him to stay. He left me behind again.”

End Section Three of Chapter Three: JJ’s Secret

[seaswalllow]

all eyes on m͘͜e̶̶

part the third 

“Hey, Hen. I know it’s late, and I know you’ve got work up the wazoo, but- look, have you heard from Jackie recently? He, uh… I don’t know if you heard about Marvin going off the deep end, but he went after Marvin. Just… give me a call or a text back when you can, ‘kay? Thanks, bro. Stay safe.” 

Henrik wearily steps out of the clinic, messenger bag slung across his shoulders. The phone rings in his hand as he walks through the darkened parking lot. 

It picks up after a couple rings.

“Hen? Hen, Jesus, I got worried for a second. Work that bad?” 

“It’s always bad, Chase. What happened?”

He hears a crackly huff from the other end. Unlocking his car, Henrik tosses his bag in first, taking a look around as he gets in. 

“I… okay. A couple days ago, Marvin just… he just cracked. We don’t know if it’s Anti, we don’t know if something else happened, but he- it was scary, Henrik. He was ranting about being forgotten, and he was ranting about the… uh, community, and Sean, manipulating us for their own amusement and it was just- I tried to talk to him but he…” 

Henrik waits, but Chase never finishes the sentence. Anger thickens in his veins, and Henrik prompts “Chase?”

A wry laugh sounds; it’s muffled, as if Chase is talking from a distance from the microphone. “Let’s just say that I'm glad Jackie knows some field medicine.” 

Without a second thought, Henrik's turned the vehicle in the direction that he knows Chase's apartment lies in. “He hurt you?”

“Woah, woah- Hen, it’s okay, it’s just a few first degree burns, and they’re all dressed now-” 

“I don’t care, Chase. You still should have let me know!” He swears under his breath at the red light, before continuing “I'm coming over. When was the last time you saw Jackie?” 

A noisy sigh echoes in the car. “I’m assuming you have my keys. Last time I saw Jackie was the day before yesterday, but he promised he’d check in and he still hasn’t done that.” 

Fear twists in Henrik's gut. They know what Anti’s capable of. They don’t know what Marvin can do, and neither bodes well. “Do you know where he might’ve gone?” 

He nearly misses the turn into Chase’s block, and swears again under his breath. 

“You good, dude? No idea, he just said he was going to find Marvin.” 

“Wonderful. I'm at your apartment block. I’ll see you in a bit.” 

The phone clicks before Chase has a chance to say goodbye, and Henrik steps out of the car, slinging the bag over his shoulder. He glances around again; the hairs on the back of his neck are standing. 

He knows the feeling of being watched. Right now, he has some very unwanted visitors, but he doesn’t know where.

As he walks into the apartment building, he misses the camera light flicker and wink green for a moment as it follows him.

Chase opens the door on Henrik's first knock. At first glance, he looks awful. The apartment isn’t in much better shape, either; multiple scorch marks are poorly hidden, and the light fixtures are clearly cracked or broken.

Henrik pushes past, briskly setting his bag on one of the stabler chairs. “Did you have a fight in this room? It looks like the war zone.” 

“It wasn’t really much of a fight, Hen. Marvin just…” Chase shrugs, lost for words, and Henrik looks him over once more. His arms, and patches on his neck and face are bandaged. 

“You made it sound like it was a lot less worse than it actually was,” he notes. Chase winces at the accusatory tone. 

“Look. I didn’t want to make you worry on top of everything.” He sits down, obediently, as Henrik fusses over him; changing the bandages, and checking on the healing process. 

“Chase, now is the time to worry. Anti- the beast was bad as it is. I want to know if we should be worrying about Marvin too.” He busies himself with examining the burns, hissing under his breath as he sees the extent of Marvin's earlier wrath. 

It’s not enough to distract him from the weight of Chase’s concerned look. 

“Hen…” 

“Don’t ‘Henrik’ me. I’m fine. We need to worry about Marvin right now. Does Jamie know?” 

Chase grumbles something under his breath about picking this up later, but switches gears readily enough. “Not… really? You might’ve been the second one I told.” 

“Chase!” 

He holds his hands up defensively, then hisses with discomfort. “I was panicking! Between Marvin, and Jackie…” 

There’s genuine worry on his face, and Henrik sighs. “You shouldn’t have kept him in the dark. Where’s your phone?”

Digging around in his pocket, Chase produces it moments later. He thumbs to the messages, and begins tapping out one for Jamie while Henrik collects everything back in his bag. The phone buzzes moments later, and Henrik looks over. Chase offers a distracted thumbs up, reading over Jamie's response.

“He’s, uh. I think I might have freaked him out a bit.” 

“Chase!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose! Give me a second, let me just-” he stops talking. 

Henrik straightens immediately. Chase is pale as he watches the phone screen; from where he stands, Henrik can see text flickering and dancing across the screen. 

Ice sinks into his gut, and Henrik's breathing hitches. His breathing falters more and more. He's back. He cannot be back. He's here. Why is He here?

Chase breaks the silence as he whispers “I think something else might be freaking out Jamie.” 

Henrik doesn’t answer, still staring at the screen, and Chase finally looks up. 

“Hey, hold on-” he hops off of the chair, instead guiding Henrik to it. “Breathe with me, man. You’re going to be alright, breathe in with me. Count with me, alright?”

Henrik sucks in one shaking breath after another, knuckles white. The screen flickers once, and then goes dark with a pop of static. 

“It’s gonna be fine. We can grab-” Chase falters. They can’t grab Jackie. “We can grab a couple things to protect ourselves and go check on Jamie. Nobody’s alone in this, we got each other’s backs. You’re not alone in this, alright?”

It takes a few more minutes before Henrik leans forward, dragging in a large, steadying breath. “The car is outside. Jamie is not too- if we go now, we can protect him.” 

“Uh, sure, but like fuck you’re driving.” Chase hesitates. “Give me a second. I’ll grab something. You take your time.” 

He’s gone for less than a minute, and then he’s back, holstering an all too familiar pistol. Henrik stands, shouldering his bag. He's being extra careful to hide his shakiness, and he knows that Chase can see it, but thankfully, he doesn’t comment. “I thought Jackie had that?” 

A grim smile crosses Chase's expression. “He thought I might need it to protect myself the next time Marvin came to visit,” he says. Odd timing, he doesn’t say.

Henrik shakes his head, then opens the door, stepping out into the hallway. Chase isn’t far behind.

True to his word, Chase takes the wheel, while Henrik retrieves a very familiar knife from the glovebox. There’s more in there- Chase barks out a laugh of surprise as the weak lamplight gleams off of an assortment of syringes and a scalpel. 

“You better hope the cops don’t stop you, huh?” 

Henrik shrugs. “It will not be my problem if they do.” 

Chase’s laugh dies off when they pull up in front of a house, lights off but the door open. 

Henrik is out of the car before it is fully stopped. Chase is hot on his heels. The house is quiet as the grave, and when Chase tries to flick on a hallway light, it doesn’t power on. Carefully, trying to keep his voice steady, Chase calls out “Jamie? Jamie, we’re here, can you come out, bud?” 

A distant thump startles them both. Chase carefully unholsters his gun. Henrik's grip on his knife tightens as he creeps through the hallway. 

Someone taps on his shoulder in the living room.

Henrik nearly stabs them.

It turns out to be well and good that he doesn’t, as a wide-eyed Jameson stares back at him. shaking, Henrik backs up, as he asks lowly “What’s going on?” 

In a louder voice, he calls for Chase, who comes skidding in moments later. 

“Who- Jay? Jesus Christ, you can’t scare us like that, are you alright? Is the fucker here?”

Jameson shakes his head. in the dark, they can barely make out his signs; seeing their expressions, he switches over to the slides. The pale sepia glow casts their expressions in an eerie light.

“The demon paid a visit earlier. I think he did, at least; the power won’t work, and neither will my phone, but I never saw him.”

Dumbfounded, Chase pulls out his own phone. “But you-” he stares at the messages, frowning for a minute that drags on in the flickering dark. Eventually, he shakes his head. “Never mind. I'm glad you’re alright. We need to stick together now, anyways.”

Ruefully, Jameson nods. Another slide opens up in the dark. “Chase was telling me about Jackie's lack of response. Perhaps you could further expound upon what happened?” 

Chase doesn’t get the chance to answer. All three of their phones buzz at once. 

Unknown Number: Come one, come all. You won’t want to miss this show :)

[septic-dr-schneep]

JSE Fanfiction - In Time of Need (Part 24: Fusion)

Summary: It’s been three days now since the struggle for Jameson’s mind. While he continues his recovery, Schneep has one more favor to ask of Marvin.

“How is he?” Chase questioned anxiously, tugging on the hem of his shirt as he peered over Schneep’s shoulder at Jameson.

“Even better than he was yesterday,” Schneep assured him, fanning his penlight back and forth in front of Jameson’s eyes and nodding his approval as they dilated properly. “You’re making a fair recovery, Jamie, but I’m still recommending you stay in bed or on the couch for another day or two.”

“I’m in perfectly high snuff about that,” Jameson admitted, receiving a blank look from the doctor in response. “I—I’m more than willing.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it! Now if you could pass some of that positive attitude along to another such patient who needs his bedrest…”

Chase huffed at the none-too-discreet comment, waving him off. “I’ll rest when I know Jameson’s alright.”

“You say that for days now, Chase, you cannot keep using the same excuse! The little sleep you get isn’t enough,” Schneep sighed, stuffing the penlight back in his pocket and rising. “Take small catnap in here if that is more comfortable for you, if Jamie makes you more at ease. Just lie down somewhere!”

“I’m not tired, Schneep, I don’t need it,” the younger Ego insisted as he took the chair beside Jameson’s bed, earning a stare from the gentleman that Schneep could sense even as he was making his way out. Chase’s last words before he closed the door were telling: “Aw, don’t make that face, Jem! Just let me read to you some more!”

He honestly shouldn’t have been reading at all, given how much it taxed his brain. Frankly Schneep hoped that if he was going to be stubborn and there wasn’t anything they could do to stop him, the reading would wear on his supposedly endless energy and he would crash in that chair after a chapter or two. It would be better for both of them.

That being said, Jameson was making a swift recovery, at least in terms of the physical side effects. Schneep had to believe that based on what Marvin had said about the Overnight Watch and its influences.

Emotionally, however, he could tell that their youngest wasn’t quite the same as he had been. He was withdrawn and pensive, almost somber. Schneep didn’t know exactly what he had experienced when he was trapped within his own mind, but it was going to have a lasting effect on him. That could only be expected. Schneep’s own possession had left him reeling, unable to think straight, and he had never gotten the time to process it before the horrors began.

Jameson needed time. He needed time to sort out his thoughts and feelings—tremble and cry, break something, anything to process the trauma of what happened. Schneep had to wonder if it was in any way similar to how Anti had possessed him at birth. Had it felt the same to him?

Marvin had shaken him awake from his magically induced sleep and told him Jameson needed a doctor three days ago. These days had been filled with a strange, stringent tension in the air. It wasn’t a tension of anger or even unease, simply an unspoken anticipation. Marvin spent several hours per day in his room, practicing with his new magic, and every time Schneep passed his door, he could feel the anticipation rise. It was no different now as he paused, his hand falling against the doorframe.

There was a question Schneep had to ask him.

Steeling himself, he knocked, pushing the door open before Marvin could give or deny him permission. The magician lifted his head, startled, and the cards he was bending and stretching returned to their normal size, fluttering lightly to the floor.

“Schneep, what are you—?”

“There’s something I need to know.”

With a light sigh Marvin sank down from his levitation onto the floor, swept the cards into a neat little pile and then rose, depositing them onto the end of the bed. “What d’you need?”

Now that he was here with the question on the tip of his tongue, Schneep couldn’t resist squirming, anxious butterflies stirring in his stomach. “J-Jamie’s recovering,” he ventured instead, opting to make some conversation so he could ease into it. “His body seems to be handling it better than I would expect, but you…”

At that Marvin stilled, incredulity, amusement and gratitude mingling on his face as he rounded on him. “You want to know if I’m alright? Yeah, Schneep, I’m fine! I’ve been practicing with it, taking lots of breaks in between, learning more from my tome…I’m taking care of myself and I’m being careful. You don’t have to worry.”

Schneep’s eyes strayed to the very tome Marvin was speaking of, sitting on the bedside table, and just as quickly he tore them away. He wasn’t sure where on earth Marvin had gotten it, but it made something turn in his stomach which only created more butterflies. The etching looked as if it had crawled up from the depths of the black cover, as if it were barely clinging to the sleeve. It was an etching of Sam, which was obviously something he had seen countless times in his life, but this was…different somehow. It was far more detailed, the green and blue so dark that they could only be seen if they caught the light, and the veins in the eye were slightly raised, creeping like thin, spidery branches from its pinpoint pupil.

Marvin’s hand brushing his arm made him jump, drawing a fleeting expression of concern from the older Ego.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes. I’m just as fine as you are,” he managed with a weak excuse for a smile. Fortunately Marvin didn’t question it.

“Was that all you needed to talk about or did you need something else?”

“Well…Are you, ah, are you busy?”

A laugh burst out of Marvin at that. “I’m still here waiting for you, aren’t I?”

“Yes. If you’re sure it’s no bother, we can get to my main question,” Schneep began with a self-conscious flush. “You…you say you’ve been practicing with this new magic for a few days now, yes?”

“Yeah…?”

“And you have a good hold over it. You’re in control?”

“Yeah.” Perplexed, Marvin shifted his weight onto one hip, shaking his head. “Are you sure we’re going to get to your main question—?”

“I want to know if you can wake Jackie.” Marvin’s stunned silence only created more agitation in him. Taking a hurried breath, he continued, “He’s back home with us now, where he should be, and when you save Jamie I get to think. If you can save Jamie from this abomination that trapped thousands of Jack’s fans, m-maybe you could save Jackie from the coma Anti put him in! But I don’t want your magic anywhere near him if it’s not safe, do you hear? I don’t want him getting any worse! I just…want to know if it’s possible that you could without hurting him. Can you?”

“Schneep…” Marvin hesitated reluctantly, eyes narrowing behind his mask in thought. “It’s—well, it’s not the same as what Jameson was going through. I had experience with the Overnight Watch; I knew how it worked. This is different, this is—”

“But you went inside Jack’s head!” Schneep burst out, talking over him as he approached. “You—You were able to get into his head, in and out like nothing!”

“It wasn’t ‘like nothing,’ it was incredibly dangerous,” Marvin cried, throwing up his hands, “for me and for him!”

“And what you did for Jamie wasn’t?! I just want to know if you can! If you—if you say no, then I won’t ask again, but…” Pursing his lips, he cast another nervous glance at the tome on the nightstand and suppressed a shiver, getting slightly sidetracked by the skin-crawling impression that it was staring at him. “Marvin, I don’t know why you have that new tome but it looks as dangerous as going into Jackie’s head sounds!”

“I got it so I could—” Huffing a frustrated breath, Marvin tilted his head back, mouth twisting disapprovingly. “Well. I got it so I could become more powerful, so I could expand my abilities—and I’m guessing that if I tell you no, you’re going to ask me what the point of all this practice has been?”

“It does not cross my mind,” Schneep confessed honestly. He almost wished he had thought of it. “I said I wouldn’t ask again.”

It took almost a full minute for the conflict on Marvin’s face to dissipate and the strange violet in his pupils brightened momentarily as he rolled his shoulders.

“I’ll try,” he relented at last, moving past him toward the door.

“Wh—now?” Schneep called, hurrying after him as he nudged open the door immediately next to his. “You’re doing this now?!” As soon as he entered the room, he couldn’t help but stop up short, his heart faltering. It wasn’t the first time; he had been there to see Jackieboy safely transferred from the hospital to Egos Incorporated. He was the one who had gotten him set up in his room, who had tucked him so carefully into bed while blinking back his tears, but it still startled and unnerved him to see Jackie lying just like Jack, a mere hallway apart.

“No better time than the present, right?” Marvin was saying when he shook off his apprehension and drew closer. “But obviously I wasn’t able to bring Jack out when I went into his mindscape, so I can’t promise anything…You’ve gotta remember, Schneep, that Anti was there both times I entered the mindscape. He kept me from helping Jack and if he’s put Jackie down as far as he did Jack, I don’t know if I’ll be able to help him either.” Noticing the look on Schneep’s face as he sank down onto the edge of the bed, he briefly squeezed his shoulder, his voice softening. “I want him back just as much as you do.”

“…I know.”

Did he, though? Did he really want him back as much as Schneep did? he wondered secretly in the back of his mind, covering Jackie’s nearest hand with his own. Marvin knew that Schneep blamed himself for what had happened to the both of them, but did he know just how much? He hadn’t been able to sleep at all these past few nights, agonizing over everything that had happened. They may have gotten Jameson back, but what would they do without either of their leaders? What would happen if Anti attacked and they weren’t there to protect them? He had a fairly good idea, but he never wanted to test his theory.

“Marvin…if the Glitch was there both times…” he began weakly, “…does that mean I might hear him?”

The sideways glance Marvin gave him was answer enough and his fingers tightened over the back of Jackieboy’s hand. When he’d heard that voice coming from Jameson’s mouth, he hadn’t been able to cope. He had felt everything again, the terror, the pain, everything in him screaming for escape. The magic-induced sleep he’d been put in served well enough, but as soon as he’d woken up, he’d remembered, and it had taken everything in him to focus on what Marvin was saying about Jameson and not dissolve into panic again.

He couldn’t afford to panic here, however. If he did, it could break Marvin’s concentration and probably harm Jackie further. He couldn’t have that on his conscience, he couldn’t, and there was no chance he was leaving either.

“Are you ready?” Marvin questioned cautiously. “Once I start, I can’t stop.”

“Just be careful,” Schneep pleaded softly, glancing between him and Jackieboy’s pale, drawn features. “Be safe.”

The other didn’t respond to that and Schneep frankly didn’t want him to; he had a feeling it wouldn’t have been anything optimistic.

As he illuminated Jackieboy in a deep violet glow, tendrils of his aura superficially fusing with the top layer of his skin, Marvin slowly, slowly, leaned into it, his hands flattening, fingers spreading as if he were pushing against an unseen barrier as he began uttering a language that Schneep could barely latch onto, much less translate. He was straining his ears for something else entirely. Even as the magic was amplified with each word Marvin spoke, he didn’t hear any of the sadistic, sickeningly familiar whispers, nor any static, but there was a growing swell of tension in the air that no one could’ve overlooked.

“Ah!” he gasped, hastily lifting his hand from Jackie’s as he became aware of it growing feverishly warm at a frightening pace, sweat breaking out along his arms and hairline. Drawing in an uncertain breath, he looked to Marvin.

“He’s starting to get hot—”

“Quiet!” Marvin snapped, to which he nodded hurriedly and returned his gaze to the oldest Ego.

The sweat was beading down his face now, sliding into the hollows of his cheeks, and there was a metallic tinge in the air that made Schneep’s mouth and nostrils hurt as his breath quickened. It was then that he noticed the sweat taking on a sickly yellow tinge the farther it traveled across his skin. His heart promptly lunged into his throat when Jackie shuddered, a broken whine clawing its way out of him.

“Yes…” Marvin hissed softly as he made a deep “come hither” motion with his hands, pulsing off-purple light from them, shadows and determination sharpening his features. “Hear me, Jackie. Hear me…Wake up…”

It was as if Marvin was leeching an infection out of him, Schneep realized, both repulsed and fascinated by the sight as Jackieboy’s shivering intensified, his head falling from one side to the other against his pillow as if he were internally being pulled back and forth. In fact, he was; it was a tug-of-war inside his mind as Jackieboy wavered between what he thought was reality or fantasy. He needed something to ground him, something to convince him, coax him out. Schneep knew Marvin had told him to stay silent, but he couldn’t any longer, returning his grip to Jackie’s shaking fingers.

“We’re here for you, Jackie,” he implored, squeezing his hand tighter than he thought was possible. The scorching heat was burning his own skin, but he didn’t let go. “Don’t give up! Come back. Please come home, please—We need you. I need you, my friend! I cannot lose you…Not again.”

They were the same words he had spoken nine months ago over Jack’s broken, failing body, the same words he had screamed and sobbed as he searched for that string of life that he could help Jack cling to. If he died, they both died and he could sense that same ugly, desperately painful connection now.

“If we lose you, there’s no hope,” he whispered.

Marvin’s magic sputtered then, the aura around Jackieboy’s body shimmering and flickering like a dying bulb. Turning alarmed eyes to Marvin, Schneep went rigid as the magician released a sharp sob of exertion, straining to maintain his hold over it as its strength waned.

“Marvin?!”

“I’m trying! I’m trying!” he screamed, perspiration and blood mingling as the force of his magic easily unraveled the stitches lining his cheek, reopening the cut there. Droplets of blood found purchase down his jaw, dripping from his chin to spatter his right sleeve and forearm. No sooner had they landed did they steam and dissolve, melting into him, and the deep, thunderous violet hue of his magic heaved, vibrant red surging forward in its place. Jackie thrashed as it hit him, back arching off the bed as he drew in a cloying, desperate gasp.

“Jackieboy, please!” Marvin begged, crimson spilling through his veins and lighting his eyes as he pushed harder, strained farther. “Please, please wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

The hero’s eyes flew open.

As soon as it happened, Marvin collapsed, landing hard on hands and knees at the edge of the bed. Schneep reeled back, torn between the two of them, but as he moved to let go of Jackieboy’s hand and kneel on the floor beside him, Marvin shook his head, rattled wheezes shaking his body.

“Look at him,” he rasped. “Look at him! Make sure he’s okay!”

He didn’t need to be told twice, pressing his hands against each of Jackie’s pulse points—slightly elevated, not too shallow—and then laying them against his face, lifting his head from the pillow so he could search his eyes. “Jackie…” he mouthed, no sound leaving his throat around the lump lodged in it.

Jackieboy’s eyes remained glassy, unseeing, for four more seconds. Then he blinked, pupils dilating as he sluggishly scanned Schneep’s worried features. Eyes widening, a soft outbreath leaving parted lips—recognition.

“…Henrik?” he breathed.

His voice, after so long—Schneep tried to laugh, but all that came out was a raw string of sobs, his heart breaking and healing and breaking again as he helped guide him into a sitting position. Jackie was weak right now, fragile, he reminded himself, hands hovering helplessly over him. He didn’t want to push him too quickly, but his friend promptly erased those thoughts as he leaned forward, clumsily tangling his arms around him. Needing no more encouragement, the doctor collapsed into the embrace, burying his face in his shoulder. Jackie tucked his chin against the younger Ego’s neck in return, breathing shakily, as if he was only just remembering how.

“I dreamt of you,” he choked out, his hands roaming Schneep’s back as if to ensure that he was really there, fully intact. “All of you, I saw all of you when I was…All of you were—I can’t believe you’re okay!”

“I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you so much…We’ve been nothing without you, nothing,” Schneep whimpered, tears dampening the neck of Jackie’s shirt. He wasn’t crying with force as he usually did; these were tears of exhaustion, of release, relief from coping. He didn’t have to cope anymore. Jackie seemed to sense it, pressing a hand to the back of his neck to keep him steady as all of the pent-up emotion spilled.

“I was lost,” the hero whispered, his own emotion starting to get the better of him. “I didn’t know—I saw all of you die. You—you died over and over and over again and I c-couldn’t do anything to stop it—I—I’m so glad you’re safe—”

“We’re safe,” Schneep echoed thickly. Right here, right now, with Jackie conscious, warm and breathing around him, he couldn’t feel any safer.

“Jackieboy…?” Marvin ventured apprehensively as he struggled to his feet, hissing faintly as he swayed and caught himself on the bedside table. His fingertips were bruised blue and purple, Schneep realized as he lifted his head, murmuring sympathetically for him.

Realization dawned on Jackieboy’s face as he slumped back against his pillows, unable to find the strength to stay upright any longer. Even so, he had noticed the bruising too. “Marvin, did you—did you use magic to save me?” he asked in a hushed voice, amazement and concern mingling in his voice.

“Yeah. I’ll be alright, Jackie, it doesn’t matter.” Voice hitching distinctively, he glanced away, briefly reaching to squeeze the older Ego’s shoulder as he added, “I’m really…really glad you’re home.” When Jackieboy caught his hand before he could withdraw it, Marvin pressed his lips tightly together, trying for a smile even as his eyes glistened.

“Thank you,” Jackieboy murmured, heartfelt, drawing a faint sob and a hurried nod from the magician before he recoiled, backing up a few feet so he could get himself together. As soon as he did, Jackie went in for another hug from Schneep, clearly craving some kind of contact. Schneep finally did find a laugh then, tearful though it was, and accepted him, nuzzling the side of their foreheads together.

“Chase and Jameson,” he huffed softly against his ear. “They’ll want to see you.”

Jackie stilled at that, tremulous as he demanded, “They’re—they’re fine, they’re okay?”

“Yes, they’re okay. They are worse for the wear—there are some things that happen while you sleep that put them through a lot—but they’re okay. Their visit will need to be brief; all three of you need rest right now,” Schneep reminded him, pulling away with no small degree of reluctance and then sliding to his feet, wiping the back of his sleeve over his face before glancing ruefully at Marvin. “Actually, I think all of you could use some rest.”

“You could. You’re always tired after crying,” Marvin countered knowingly, giving Schneep an emphatic stare as he headed for the door. “You stay with him. I’ll go and see if they’re up for visiting.”

“They will be as soon as they hear,” the doctor assured him. “If Chase is asleep, just wake him gently to tell him the news. He’ll shoot us if he finds out later that we didn’t.”

“Sure thing,” Marvin agreed wryly, making his way out. As soon as the door closed behind him, Schneep breathed deeply, returning his attention to Jackieboy as the hero leaned back into his pillows, weary.

“Jack…” he murmured. “How is he?”

“The same as he has been,” Schneep admitted, already regretting the fact that he didn’t have better news. “Signe is with him right now.”

Jackie nodded his relief, lifting his gaze to the ceiling for several moments as it turned misty. “I saw Jack too, versions of him all throughout the years. He was…He…Henrik, if I had to see all of you die over and over again in my dreams, I don’t ever want to know what’s going on in his head. Signe, his friends, his brothers and sisters—What if he’s—? What if he’s suffering as much as I was? What if he’s watching all of them suffer?”

“H-He isn’t,” Schneep mustered uncertainly.

Both of them knew he was lying, but Jackieboy didn’t object, shaking his head minutely as his tears silently spilled. He swept them away just as quickly, hunkering down further into his pillows and exhaling precariously.

After a few minutes of silence, Schneep swallowed, picking at a loose thread in the bedspread as he tried to find the proper words he needed. “I’m…sorry, Jackie. I know I say that a lot, but I truly am. I’m sorry I left you at the hospital.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Jackie waved him off, sniffling faintly. “I couldn’t have known. We never do.”

Before Schneep could find an answer to that, the door clicked and the doctor’s attention was drawn to the others’ return. “Chase, Jamie,” he greeted as it swung open, rising to his feet.

“Stop him!” Chase howled.

There was no time to process the words; before Chase had even finished, Marvin’s fist crashed into Schneep’s face, sending him into the far wall. As he landed in a heap, he felt a surge of blood hit the back of his throat and choked, given no time to spit it out before he was being enveloped in a dark orb that lifted him into midair.

“Henrik!” Jackieboy yelped as Marvin flicked his opposite wrist and tossed the blankets aside, trapping him in a similar bubble. “Marvin, what the—?! What are you doing?!” Gritting his teeth, he elbowed and kicked savagely at whatever he could reach, but he wasn’t anywhere near full strength. The magic absorbed his blows as if they were love taps.

“Let us out of these—What’s wrong with you?!” Schneep burst out, wild eyes meeting Marvin’s as he pressed his hands against the inside of the bubble’s surface. Through its dappling surface he could see Chase and Jameson immediately outside the door, kicking and screaming and pounding inside their own spheres.

“You honestly think I wouldn’t be here to s͘eę ţh͠ìs throu̶g͢h͠?” he purred, tilting his head in that familiar way that made Schneep’s hair stand on end. Chuckling, he singsonged, “I wond͜e͟r, whereve̷r̴ could ̨I ̕have͢ gon͠e whe͢n I l̷e̢ft̴ J͡a̶m͟es͜on? The ͡o̸nly rea͘s̨o̷n I ͝ẁoke ̧Jacki̢e͟boy ̨up was s̨o ͡he c͜ould watch—fo̴r real, this̛ ̢ţi͝me.”

All color draining from his face, Jackieboy sent another desperate series of blows to the magic around him, crying out, “No, no! No!”

Schneep’s stomach lurched as his orb was hurled to the side, hitting the far wall with such force that it spun him in a blurred, nauseating somersault. Ears ringing, he struggled to recover his balance, slipping and sliding within the bubble’s smooth surface as it began to shimmer and hiss.

“What’s happening?!” he wailed, forced to curl in on himself as his containment field put pressure on his back and shoulders. It was shrinking faster than he could process the change, hemming him in, and he was trying to stay calm but there finally came a point when he couldn’t control his body anymore, struggling, twisting and turning in a frantic attempt to break through.

“N͞ow, ̧n͡ow, ̧Do͢c͘tor,” Anti, as Marvin, tutted, smiling all the while. “Tha̶t’s an enclo̧s͜ed̵ spa̶ce! Do̢n’t̴ you k͠now y͘ou’ll̷ ̷ųse up mo͡re̴ air if̷ you s͢tr̷u̧g͞g͝l͝ę?”

The sweat that broke out on Schneep’s face and back was like ice as he thrashed, cursing and and coughing and crying. It was true—with each harsh breath, he was getting more and more lightheaded, but the terrifying fog of claustrophobia was getting the better of his higher senses.

“Of ͞c̷our̡se,̴ ͝I’ll ̀tak̸e ̴t̵h͝e ͝rest of the air ͡f͢r͢om you a͘nỳway!” Anti continued, his gleeful grin fading into a smaller but no less joyful smile of satisfaction as he watched him go on.

No—No, please, no—! The crushing lack of oxygen had his chest caving in on itself, his vision blurring with smears of tainted color. Without his permission, his pleas fell to nothing but thready wheezes, his heart throbbing in his ears, straining and failing to pump more air into his fight. The world tilted as his body fell apart, slumping to the floor of his sphere as dizziness swept over him in a darkening wave.

“I͘'̴l͢l̨ alway͜s t̴ake͠ ev̡ȩryt̸hin͢g̨ ̵from ͡y̛òu̧.”

[splatteredfandoms523]

A Cute Little Pizza Party

(I thought I’d try out a little story with some Iplier dads and little green Septic children. This is my take two on this story as the first time I wrote this, my laptop crashed.)

It’s been quite the day at the Iplier house, with meetings and plans to keep everything going and in check. Dark and Wilford were talking over plans to either go run errands themselves or send Google or Bim to run to the grocery store to keep the house stocked. But then, there’s a knock on the door. Nobody ever knocks on the door. 

Bim Trimmer happens to be closest to the door and he opens it.

“Uhm, Dark....! Can you and Wil come here for a second???“ Bim stutters, unable to comprehend how this all came to be. 

Dark and Wilford look over, and their eyes get as big. 

“How in the he-?“ Dark tries to get out his sentence, but he just can’t. He’s speechless. 

“Oh Dark! Look at how cute they are! And look at this little green haired one! I don’t think we should leave them out there all on their lonesome,” Wilford coos, picking up a child with a little suit and bow tie, “This one doesn’t have green hair, but this is has gotta be my favorite!“ 

Dark rubs his temples, “Fine, we can bring them inside, but then I need a full Iplier meeting in the living room. Then, we can meet and watch there little children,” He sighs and picks up the small glitchy child. 

Bim hurries to grab Google, Bing, King, Doc and Host. He doesn’t think it would be a great idea to grab Yandere or Ed just yet. But for everyone he does bring with him, their reactions say it all. 

“How did these little children appear on our doorstep? Do we know where they came from? Do we even know their names?“ Google is surprisingly the first to ask these questions. 

Everyone looks dumbfounded at these children until Dark speaks up. 

“Hello children. What are your names?“ He asks.

They each pipe up individually saying their names are Marvin, Chase, Anti, Henrik, Jackie, and one doesn’t talk at all, but Henrik tells them that his name is Jameson and that he was born mute. 

“I dunno how we got here, but I’m scared,“ Chase whines, asking for someone to hold him. Google begrudgingly picks Chase up as Dark has Anti, Wilford has Jameson, Doc has Henrik, Bing has Marvin, and Bim has Jackie as all of them had started to cry. Dark had no idea what to do, but he looked at Wilford and Doc and mimicked their bouncing. It came pretty naturally to him. 

Even all of the children, none of them older than 5, calmed down. Jameson, being the youngest and therefore needing the most sleep, had already passed out on Wilford, making him smile. Chase and Marvin were already asleep in their new robot friends’ arms too, making Bing smile and Google freeze. 

Google has no idea how to handle these newfound emotions and this newfound desire to protect this child, as he looks so helpless in his arms. Bing just smiles as he understands emotions more than Google.

“Hey, Google. You should grab a blanket for the child. He’s shivering,“ Dark snaps Google out of it. 

Google slowly reaches for a blanket, careful not to wake Chase as he searches how to wrap a child in a blanket on his holographic screen. Wilford notices as Google wraps Chase up and giggles, only to see Google turn red. Bing laughs as he also wraps up a shivering Marvin, not taking notice of how skinny he is. 

“Okay, Google, Bing. I need you to take the sleeping children to the spare room. There they can sleep on the bed in there. Wilford, I need you to put that small child in there, too,“ Dark instructs them, earning a little whimper from Wilford that he ignores. 

Google, Bing, and Wilford head for the spare room, and then Doc perks up as he hears Henrik start coughing. He feels Henrik’s forehead, looking concerned.

“Dark, I need to take Henrik to my clinic. He’s running a fever, and don’t worry. I’ll take care of him,“ Doc says to Dark as he power walks to the clinic with Henrik, not giving Dark much of a choice in the matter.

At least I can trust him to take care of that child. Unlike a certain cotton candy killer I know. Dark thinks to himself. 

Dark turns his attention to a fussy Anti that he keeps bouncing on his knee. Bim is bouncing Jackie when he hears Jackie’s tummy rumble. Then, he realizes how skinny Jackie really is. 

“Dark, look at how skinny they are. Anti is just as skinny as Jackie here. We should get some food for them,“ Bim looks concernedly at Jackie, Dark, and Anti, “Hey, buddy. What kind of food do you like?“ Bim asks Jackie. 

“Ooooo I like pizza! With ‘ronis, please!“ Jackie beams.

“Do you want pizza? When was the last time you ate?” Dark asks Anti.

“I want pizza!“ Anti shouts, but he gets quiet at his next response, “Been a long time, Henny made us walk a long way until we got here. He tell us that no one will hurt us here.”

Anti starts to cower a little as Dark looks appalled, “No one will hurt you here. You are safe here. I will see to that. Now. Bim,” Dark says, turning his attention to Bim and Jackie, “Please go see to it that Google orders some pizza for all of these children. Don’t let Bing do it or he’ll order way way too much.” 

Bim looks at Dark the Jackie before he smiles, “Alright! Are you ready to go on an adventure with me, Jackie? We’re gonna go to Google land to order as much pizza as you want, okay?” 

Jackie smiles and giggles, “Yeah! ‘Ventures!” 

They take off for the spare room to find Google when Wilford comes back in the living room, just to see Anti start to relax on Dark. Wilford giggles and smiles, only for his expression to drop a bit when he sees the concern on Dark’s face. 

“Wil, these children haven’t eaten in days.They’re even afraid that we’ll hurt them. How did they end up at our doorstep? Why us?“ Dark frets over the children, “At least Bim is ordering pizza for them with Google and Doc is taking care of the Henrik one and three of them are asleep.“

Wilford frowns, “Well, they don’t have to worry anymore. We got ‘em,” He puts a hand on Dark’s shoulder as he sees Anti glitch a small bit ,”And it looks this little one is either shaky or maybe glitching? Maybe Google could help you with that. Or Doc, but you said he had one of the kids in his clinic, so Google would be your best bet.” 

Dark sighs, holding Anti close, “Maybe I’ll show him to Google later, but for now, I need to talk to Doc, but Wil, when the pizza comes can you pay for it for me?” 

Wilford nods as Dark hands him his card and heads out with Anti. They make their way into Doc’s clinic to see Doc tending to a sleeping Henrik. 

Doc notices his entrance, “His fever has gone back down, at least. But he’s severely dehydrated and needs food.” 

Dark nods,”That was precisely what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to tell you that I sent Bim to order pizza with Google’s help for these children.” 

Doc smiles a bit, “Then when pizza gets here, I’ll wake up this little one. But, for now, I’m letting him sleep with the IV drip to get him hydrated and let him rest off that fever.”

Anti looks at Henrik with sad eyes, and Dark notices, “It’s alright. He is in good hands with Doc. But in the meantime, would you like something to drink?”

Anti looks up at Dark, “Yeah, do you have juice?”

“I’m sure we do. Let’s -“ Dark is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell, “I guess we should go get some pizza instead, but we can get juice too.“

Anti smiles, and they head to the kitchen, where Wilford has a tall stack of pizza boxes in his arms. He proceeds to slide them from his arms to the kitchen table. 

“Well, I’m assuming Bing made this order,“ Dark comments as he has Anti choose what kind of pizza he wants. 

Everyone else files into the kitchen, each of the children picking out their pizza before anyone else gets any. The kids are get set down by the coffee table in the living room, besides Jameson. He was clinging to Wilford and wouldn’t be put down, so Wilford just got his pizza whilst holding him and smiling. 

Dark pulls Google aside after a few minutes, “Google, how are we going to put all of these children to bed? That spare room is definitely not enough room for all of them. But, I think Doc is keeping Henrik with him for observation, so that’s one less child to worry about, but that still leaves five children.”

Google looks around, “We could always let one or two of them sleep on the couch or in someone else’s room, depending on the someone, but I for one would like to have the little one with the hat in my room tonight.”

Wilford invades their conversation while holding Jameson, “Google. I didn’t think you could handle children. But, if you get the one with the snapback hat in your room. I want this one,” He gestures to the little happy, shy boy he’s holding, “in my room with me. I got a plan to give ‘im a little bed for himself and everything.” 

Dark chuckles, “I guess we have no where else to put them tonight, so I will allow it. But, the little green one is mine, and that still leaves us with the cat mask one and the superhero one. I forget their names.” 

Bim joins in on the conversation too, “Well, the little superhero can be my sidekick, if you let me.” 

Google looks over at Bing, who’s watching the children while they eat, “Bing would probably take the cat mask one as his cuddle bug if you let him, and I would make sure that he behaved.”

Dark gives. “Alright, you got me. But-” He stops everyone from running to their perspective children, “I don’t want hear a word out of any of you once I get Anti to sleep. If you wake him or me up, it will not be a pleasant morning for you.” 

They took his warning seriously, and once everyone went off into their rooms for the night, after cleaning up pizza plates, no one made much noise. Soon, all you could hear was calm, steady breathing and snoring. So, the chaotic day comes to an end. 

@save-jacksepticeye @hufflepufftrax @jamesondaily

[beerecordings]

locked away and mind trauma with jackie (could be during or aftermath or both idc

“Hey, losers, line up!” His hands push the door shut and lock it as his feet kick off his sneakers. “I brought home drinks.”

His voice rings out through the house and a chattering of voices answer him from the kitchen, excited. Chase rounds the corner first, followed by Marvin, both grinning and calling thanks as they catch sight of his hands, holding a cup carrier full of their favorite fall drinks.

Chase comes rushing up to him to help, chattering enthusiastically about his favorite coffee shop. Jackie’s mouth smiles and says, “It’s no problem, bud, I thought we could all use a pick-me-up. Here, chai latte, just for you.”

Beaming, Chase accepts it. His fingers brush against Jackie’s, but he barely feels it.

He barely feels anything.

His legs carry him to the kitchen, where Marvin and Henrik reach out eagerly for a warm cup of caffeine, both accepting coffees from him, flavored just the way they like them. They smile so brightly at him it seems to make the world pause to smile back. The remains of breakfast is still scattered around the table. On Sundays, they all eat together. It’s a gorgeous day for it, too. Sun shines down through the crisp autumn air, making their kitchen glow with warm light. Dust filters peacefully through the air.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. This isn’t happening.

His face doesn’t move. He is smiling, speaking, exchanging words with his little brothers, even touching them occasionally, laying his hand on their shoulders or patting their hands. Marvin looks vaguely disconcerted - Jackie rarely touches - but he brushes it off. It’s a good day, after all.

“Jackie,” he says proudly, glancing over at the sink, where a little figure is quietly washing dishes. “Why don’t you ask Jamie if he wants his?”

Jackie’s eyes blink. “Oh, uh. Yeah, I guess. James, I got you a peppermint hot chocolate, just like you like. You want it?”

Henrik frowns, glancing up at Jackie. He rarely calls him anything but Jaimer or JJ. Nobody calls him James. He supposes it doesn’t much matter.

Jameson looks up from the dishes, blinking large eyes, which are only now losing the deep exhaustion that has haunted them for weeks.

Jackie’s body shifts, uncertain.

You don’t know what you’re waiting for, do you? asks Jackie inside his head, fury clawing at his throat. I do. I know what we’re waiting for. You don’t know my family. You think you can pretend to be me and just -

Q̃͡uie̍͗́t̼.

Jackie’s head tilts patiently, his mouth smiling at Jameson.

His little brother’s hand reaches up, slowly.

He knocks the air, touches his chin and draws away.

“Yes, please,” he says.

Chase whoops, coming over to clasp Jamie’s shoulder proudly. “There he goes,” Henrik murmurs, smiling warmer than Jackie’s ever seen him smile.

“He’s talking again,” cheers Marvin, throwing an arm around Jackie’s shoulder. There are tears in his big blue eyes. Jackie’s eyes rake over his body like it’s meat. “He said he liked his eggs runny this morning, haha.”

“That’s good,” manages Jackie’s voice, his mouth smiling. “He hasn’t since, uh - since he was with Anti, huh?”

“Yeah, no,” murmurs Marvin. “Guess he’s finally - finally, finally - starting to feel safe again. Fuck.” He rubs at his face and laughs, drawing away. “It’s a good day, man.”

Jackie’s teeth are bared in a smile. His hands pulls the hot chocolate from the cup holder and hold it up to Jameson, who scampers forward to grab it, taking it from his fingers with a small, perfect smile.

Jackie, inside his own head, is crying.

You stole this moment from me. I have been waiting for this for months. Since I stole him back from you, I have been waiting.

C̢ͨo̲͜nsidͩe̝̲͛̈́r t̕hͣ̓̀̚i̝̗̝s͖ ̴̄̋͗yo̷͚͓̅̀u̱̲̖͆ͤͮr̝̰ ̶p͈̺̫͜u̹̖ͫͬ́n̨is̭̅h̒m͈enͭͭt̹ͪ́ ̶̲͓̩̃ͫ͆for̝ͨ ̌ͩ̑͏̥̭̹st̷̘̫e͞á̳̘l̰̝̦̔͗ͥï̲n̡ͤͯ̿g̑͛̚͏̳̥̲ ̸̫hȋ̅͘ṃ̟ ͗̉a̓w̤̲̪̄ͭ͐ay͍̗̗ͤͣ́ fr͢o̜m mȅ̉̔ ͌͗̾in ̗̻ͦ͑͜th̠̫e ͕̩̉ͣfi̓rst͋ p͠l̡ͦac͢e͙.͑͋

There is a knife in Jackie’s hoodie pocket.

Don’t do this to him.

Jameson takes a little sip of his chocolate. Henrik is already halfway through his coffee, while Chase is downing his latte with the last of his breakfast muffin. Marvin’s fingers drum against his cup. Jackie’s eyes watch patiently, waiting.

Don’t do this to them.

Jackie tries to thrash. Tries to scream. Tries to move, even just to make his fingers twitch.

Anything but this. Anything but this.

Henrik yawns, chatting with Chase about his plans for the day while Jamie stands happily between them, drinking his chocolate.

Jackie is chained in silver and cerebration.

At last, Marvin takes a long drink of his coffee, sighing, content, his arm still wrapped around Jackie’s shoulders. “Thanks for the coffee, man.”

“Yeah, course,” says his mouth.

Jackie is hidden behind prison bars and dura mater, panting, desperately, for breath, while Anti sits silent in his blood.

Henrik yawns again, shaking his head at himself. “Fuck, I need to wake up. It’s already eleven and I’m still so tired.”

“It’s those late nights,” teases Chase. “Good thing Jacks got you some coffee.”

“Very good thing,” answers Henrik, grinning wryly and taking another drink. “Gives me the energy to put up with you.”

No, no, no. Brother, put it down. Can’t any of you tell I’m not me?

Henrik gets up to help put a couple dishes away. Chase has gone a little pale, standing against the kitchen counters like he’s not steady enough to walk on his own. Jameson is frowning down at his drink. He could swear he tastes something slightly sour beneath his peppermint and chocolate.

He looks up at Jackie. Jackie’s eyes stare back.

But he’s just being paranoid, isn’t he? Like everyone keeps telling him. No one’s coming for you, Jamie. No one’s going to hurt you, Jamie. Anti’s not going to get you again, we love you, we’re right here.

He stares at Jackie, chewing on his lip.

Henrik drops a plate and it shatters into earthenware shards, scattering across the floor. Marvin cries out in alarm, hurrying to Henrik’s side. He does not make it before Henrik collapses, slamming into the ground with a painful thud.

“Fuck! Henrik, can you hear me?” Marvin hauls him into his arms, cradling his head. His eyes have rolled back in his head and his mouth hangs slightly open as he struggles to breathe, giving a small, confused groan. Marvin pats the side of his face and tries to get him to look at him, calling his name. “Henrik, Henrik, it’s okay, bud. You okay? Are you with me, Doc? Chase, help me with him, let’s get him to the couch, he - Chase?”

Chase is white as a ghost, gripping the kitchen counters. His hands shake. His legs shake. “M-marvin?” he stammers, sweaty hands clinging to granite. “Jackie?”

Anti watches him coolly, Jackie’s face blank. He reaches out to take somebody’s half-finished cup of orange juice and takes a drink, putting Jackie’s chin in his hand as he observes, quietly.

A smile, slightly twisted, sitting on his mouth.

No, no, no! screams Jackie. Get out of my head! Stop this, stop! Let me out! I won’t let you do this! I won’t let this happen! Anything but this! Anything but this!

“Jackie, help me,” snaps Marvin. “Why the hell are you sitting there? Chase, sit down, you don’t look well. Here, I’ll just get Henrik to the couch and then I’ll come back for - I’ll come back for - ”

Marvin is trying to rise, without success. He gasps through a sudden wave of dizziness, leaving him swaying on his knees. He lists to his side, placing a hand on the hard wood of the kitchen floor.

Above him, sitting at the island, Jackie’s eyes watch, calm.

“What is this?” whispers Marvin, as Chase topples to the ground, collapsing into darkness. “What have you done?”

A soft, breathy whimper falls from Jameson’s mouth. Terrified, Marvin looks up to see his baby brother fixated on Jackie’s face, still holding his peppermint chocolate, his mouth trembling.

He has many panic responses, but there is only one person who has ever made him freeze like that.

Anti, Anti, Anti. I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t touch them. Don’t do this. My little brothers. Jaimer, run. Jaimer, I can’t get free.

“No,” pants Marvin. He tries, again, to get up. Power buzzes in the ends of his fingers. It feels so faraway, but at least it’s still here, still with him. “No, I warded this place myself. Warded Jackie myself. Hid everything, hid everyone. You can’t have found - you can’t be here - you - ”

“Aww,” says Jackie’s voice, but it is not Jackie, it is not Jackie. “Little kitty cat really thought he could keep me away.”

Fury pounds its way through Marvin’s chest. He groans, gritting his teeth. His hand reaches out to grab one of the shards of the plate and he digs it, hard, into his palm.

He can’t pass out. He can’t. He has to protect his family.

Jackie’s body hops down from the island and rounds the table. His mouth hums, halfway singing a song, ancient and lovely. Jameson backs away, one step, two. He has set his chocolate down on the counter. His cheeks are flushed, bright red against pale, sickly skin, as the poison filters into his blood.

“Oh, honey,” murmurs Anti. “How I’ve missed you. You were so bad to run away. I’m going to beat you til you forget your own name.”

“Uh, uh, uh!” Jameson tries desperately to vocalize, tears rising in his eyes. Trembling, he circles the island, his hands reaching out for the knife drawer by the sink, at Anti’s back.

“Nuh-uh-uh, I don’t think so,” sings Anti, following Jamie around the island. Marvin pants at Jackie’s feet, struggling to stay conscious. Summoning his power.

And Jackie thrashes within his own head, caged like a circus lion. Leave him alone! Leave him alone! LEAVE HIM ALONE!

“I don’t think I will,” Anti answers him, aloud. “I think my little lost lamb is going to come home with me - ”

He jerks forward around the island and Jameson jumps, stumbling against the kitchen table.

“Back where he belongs - ”

He leaps forward, scaring Jameson again, who crumples to the ground, scrambling backwards on his hands. His back is to Marvin, rising shakily back to his feet, palm bleeding from the earthenware shard.

“And stay with me forever, just like he was meant to do!” Anti grabs the collar of Jameson’s shirt and yanks him up. Jameson gasps, his head lolling back, his eyes flickering, his mouth open, desperate -

A blast of energy collides with Anti like an explosion and Jackie’s body is slammed into the wall, hard enough to punch a hole in it. Anti yelps, grabbing at the chunks of plaster on his face, leaping to his feet. Marvin is upon him a second later, driving his elbow into his nose, setting fire to his shirt, baring his fucking teeth like he’s about to bite, and Jackie, screaming pride and relief within his head, wouldn’t put it past him, not past his wild little brother, his ferocious little brother, kick my ass, Marvin, keep them safe, just like we always promised each other we would!

Marvin strikes Anti in the throat, making him choke, and he draws back again for another blow, aiming at his ribs, and Anti grabs the handle of the knife in his pocket and then -

There’s a second where it doesn’t even reach Jackie.

Where he is cut off from the world, too far away to register anything but a blur of terror, locked up, tight, in his own head.

And then he feels

Warmth

On his hands.

And he looks up and Marvin looks back, eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth open in a dry, desperate gasp.

“Marvin,” Jackie tries to say, and he feels the “M” make its way halfway out of his mouth.

“Jackie,” Marvin tries to answer, wheezing, but nothing but blood comes out.

Jackie looks down. There is a knife in his hands. There is a knife in Marvin’s chest.

“Jah - Jah - Jack - ”

“Marvin!”

Jackie screams it, screams it, screams like his heart is breaking, with his own mouth, his own voice, his own hands, reaching out to grab him as he crumples, blood soaking through his crisp white dress shirt, golden light illuminating him like a corpse in a wake, and above him, Jackie screams, and screams, and screams, holding the dagger buried in his little brother’s stomach, slicked in a flood of hot wet blood.

Somewhere, roaming free from the cage in the back of his head, Anti is shrieking with laughter.

[beerecordings]

Wait if since they where able to get JJ out of the mirror where they able to find a new body that gets affected by JJs spirit/soul whatever or is it more like JJs spirit/soul gets enough power to create a kind of pseudo body. And like does he go into the mirror if he wants to be alone or any other reason?And if it where to break would he still be able to go in it? And if it's so that they got him a new body does it come with into the mirror or does just a random body lay besides it or something?

good question yes okay that’s exactly right with like the pseudo body thing. here’s what I figure: the power of the house is able to keep Wilford and Abe alive indefinitely because they were in the house the night that everything went down, right? In some way, that power soaked into them or it continues to sustain them from afar. Well JJ was definitely in the house that night and you’re totally right, he’s still got his soul in the mirror dimension. His body is gone, but I think that because the house gives him that sustaining power (and he was in the house for far longer than Wil and Abe) and because his soul still exists, when he’s freed from the mirror, he’s able to form that smokey, mirage-like body I was talking about. Somedays the body is tangible, is human, bleeds and hugs and feels and does everything normally. but in the end it’s just a VERY strong and magical illusion, strong enough to sometimes become truly physical, strong enough that even Jameson feels human some days. so when there are days where the power needs to rest, he finds himself all.... wrong.

He’s transparent and can’t seem to touch anything. Or parts of him begin to blur or disappear, and he is a hazy, half-formed or flickering figure. Or he feels wildly disconnected from the world and can’t get himself to answer anything anyone says. Or he feels extremely ill or confused because of the problems in manifesting his brain or organs. Somedays his appearance changes drastically, for reasons he cannot fathom or control, and he wakes up to find himself very old or very young, or suddenly brown-eyed, or taller than he was the day before, or badly scarred, all over his hands and face, or he’s even fucking rotting, and he can’t go back until his soul re-orients and asserts itself over the dark power of the house. It’s very strange and sometimes upsetting and Henrik and Marvin cause themselves no small amount of stress trying to figure this the hell out so they can take care of him - which is oddly comforting to Jameson. Most days he’s okay, and in fact these powers are what allow him to transport between mirrors, become invisible and intangible to protect himself, and other assortments of powers which he can control better some days than others. Chase says he’s like a x-man. Jackie says he is a ghost.

I think he would definitely hide in the old mirror or a new one in his room when he really wanted to be unreachable or just comforted by the oppressive calmness and safe routine of being inside the mirror. His mirror is definitely broken and was from the moment Dark cracked his neck - the brokenness is probably part of the reason Jameson has trouble being physically “whole” some days. But he doesn’t mind it anymore and he will happily sit in his old mirror when he wants to. He can put himself into lots of different reflective surfaces, though he considers mirrors the most safe, so a cracked mirror is just multiple mirrors to him, you know? He can’t be trapped in there anymore without really powerful magic.

He likes zipping around from mirror to mirror but doing it too often makes it really difficult for him to manifest normally so he avoids it except in cases of emergencies! Also he once forgot that he was in the mirror dimension and he woke up and thought he was shuffling into the bathroom as he normally does in the morning, only for Chase to open the door five minutes later and see a sleepy reflection of Jameson brushing his teeth in the mirror. gave him quite a jumpscare lol

[beerecordings]

Um, if that was a prompt for us to send things in, "Go on. Try to run." with whoever you choose?

okay..... i’m real proud of this one... thanks for the prompt, sid :) can you feel the American patriotism????? (because our nature scenes are the only thing we have going for us anymore???) anyway someone take a road trip with me

also sorry again i can’t get the read-more to work.... I know this post is long af. please tag it “long post” if you reblog, ty ty

Edit: not tumblr fucked up the spaces too, so there’s these *** instead of spaces. i am confusion.

tws for vomit mention, blood, implied character death, and car crash

                                                          ***

He moves through the shadows of the mountains at his brother's side, curled up against the window of the shitty 2002 Dodge Neon they stole from a rancher's backyard at three in the morning, trying not to nightmare.

He dozes instead of sleeping, suspended in awakeness by the rapid thud-thud-thud of the vibrating window against his skull.

“Turn the radio on?” he asks drowsily, readjusting and putting his jacket against his head.

JJ pushes the power button on the radio and flicks through the channels, bypassing Mexican music complete with a joyful grito, hypermasculine country trash, the top 40s station, and an orchestral piece featuring an celloist going absolutely ham on Shostakovich's Symphony Number One before landing on a talk show about the declining white rhino population in Southern Africa.

Not what Chase would have picked, but he'll forgive his little brother's eccentrism for the relief of a voice to listen to.

“Two female Northern white rhinos live at the Pejeta Conservatory in Kenya, and today, they and the rest of the world are grieving a terrible loss – the death of the last male Northern white rhino, Sudan, who passed away last Monday at the ripe old age of forty-five.”

“That's sad,” Chase mumbles, rubbing his face. Fuck, he's hungry. Maybe he'll wake up after all. Sitting up in his chair, he heaves out a deep sigh and glances over at JJ, who doesn't even bother to nod, his exhausted eyes fixed on the road.

“You should let me drive next.”

Jameson shakes his head, shifting uncomfortably. His fingers are gripped very tight on the steering wheel.

“The loss of the Northern white rhino species has been sudden and devastating. In 2015, five rhinos lived in captivity, and there were hopes of babies being born to help save the species. But now, only two of the rhinos remain, and it seems their death warrant has been signed by the loss of Sudan.”

Chase glances out the window, where proud tall trees rise towards a fervently blue sky, heavy with spring greenery. Their car curves down a winding road through a rocky mountainside, spitting gravel off the side of the cliff as they speed along towards their destination.

What destination? Chase wonders, watching the light of the sun play along the surface of a quiet blue lake miles below them. Where can we go that he will not find us?

“Hey, any beef jerky left?”

Jamie shakes his head again, glancing over at his brother. A flicker of his old warmth wakes up in his eyes as he meets Chase's gaze, his twin in tiredness.

He takes his hands off the wheel long enough to sign, “Stop soon.”

“Okay.”

Chase reaches into the back and grabs Jackie's blood-stained backpack off the floor, taking out his journal one more time. He doesn't expect to find anything that will help them anymore.

He just misses his brother's handwriting.

“I think I'm getting paranoid,” reads the soft, scrawling script their brother left behind. “I can tell that he's coming. I can always tell. The glitches, Jack's condition. Sometimes I think Marvin can sense it too, because I hear him awake late at night, coughing on too much magic, full up on restless energy. I know I'm being overbearing, telling them all to stay close, trying to stop Schneep from going to work. I can't get him to stay home. I'm just scared Anti will take him away first. He works regular hours now and it's not safe. Anti could find him. Anti could find Jack. I don't want to be an ass. I just want to keep them safe.”

Chase swallows back tears – he's getting used to that burn at the back of his throat – and flips dully through the rest of the journal. Here are Jackie's notes on Anti's powers, signs of his oncoming appearances, what he's done in videos, what he seems to want. None of it was enough to save them.

If only he had been a little more overbearing.

“There used to be many Northern white rhinos, living happily throughout Northern Africa in large numbers. But the reason for their decline, and now, near extinction, is all too clear – poaching has led these innocent creatures to their end. Even now, the two remaining Northern white rhinos must be protected around the clock, wary of hunters at all time.”

“Can we listen to something else?” asks Chase.

“Today, we grieve the loss of this magnificent species, once a proud and numerous symbol of their homeland. With only two remaining, how can they expect to survive?”

JJ turns the radio off.

                                                              ***

Chase peers up at the dawn sky from beneath the windshield, his eyes flickering between the dead highway before them and the breathing morning stars above him, glittering in the faraway satin of a bright pink sunrise.

“Some parts of America are really so pretty,” he says, wistful. Brown and black horses move past their car, watching from the hills and nudging their colts around with their noses. “I wish we were just on a roadtrip instead of on the run, you know? We could go somewhere nice. Camp out or something. No, never mind. Camping sounds miserable. We'll get a hotel and wander all the cities we like. Schneep always talked about traveling.”

He takes a sip from the caffeinated gas station soda in the cup holder beside him and then glances over to grin sadly at his brother, but JJ isn't looking. He sits with his head in his hand, frowning out the window, pale in the wan yellow light of the morning.

“Hey, you okay?”

No answer, but it's hard to have a conversation when Chase is supposed to be watching the road. And Jamie hasn't talked much lately anyway. Hardly at all, really. He just clings to Chase's side and glares at passersby in silence, his hand shoved into his pocket at all times. Chase is pretty sure he's always holding a knife these days. He never looks happy. He never looks safe.

Fuck, he'd just about kill to see him smile again.

Chase takes a deep breath and swallows down a burning at the back of his throat, reaching out to rub the back of JJ's neck roughly.

“Look, bud,” he sighs. “I know how hard you're trying to protect me, but I wish you'd look after yourself a little better. It's just you and me now, you know? And that – that isn't easy, but if we're going to survive... we both need to survive, right, man?”

JJ doesn't turn to him. The sunrise makes him pastel in blue and pink.

“I love you,” Chase adds. “I'm really glad you're here, J. What would I do without you, huh?”

He smiles and gives his brother another affectionate clap on the shoulder, adding a playful tug on his ear, trying to get him to look at him.

And Jameson turns and he is weeping.

“You'd be much better off without me,” he signs, and then he breaks down completely, slumped against the dashboard with gasping sobs trembling their way out of his mouth.

“Fuck,” Chase can't help but spit out, reaching out to leave a hand on his brother's back as he slams the brakes hard and drags their exhausted little car onto a quiet gravel shoulder, where only fence posts and sparsely forested grasslands stare back at them.

Chase unbuckles and gets out of the car, moving to Jameson's side and pulling open the door. After that, all he knows to do is reach out, gentle, and grab JJ's hand, ferocious.

He hasn't seen Jameson cry in weeks. He has been steel and defense, gritted teeth and deadened eyes, since what happened.

“Tell me what's going on,” he says.

“What's going on?” JJ demands, yanking his hand away. A magpie calls a reprimand to the trees, her black head shining with the golden light of the oncoming day. “Let's stop pretending there's any relief to be found in this, Chase. In escaping. In running. In fucking off to another country and wearing baseball caps low over our eyes and pretending the internet doesn't exist. In driving all day and all night, in grieving from the front seat of a stolen car, in never seeing home again.”

“Fine,” snaps Chase, gripping his hand and leaning closer. “Fine, there's nothing good about this. Does that make you feel better? There's nothing good about this situation.

Except you.”

Jameson stills, sniffling sadly and wiping harsh at the salt on his cheeks.

“You're all I got left, man,” Chase murmurs, putting his other hand on his shoulder. “You're everything. And I'm tired of seeing you so... quiet. Listen, I'm in grief too. You've heard me crying often enough to know. But if we're going to survive, we have to survive together. I need you healthy. Or as healthy as you can be. Capeesh?”

JJ looks up, his mouth trembling, and gives Chase the smallest nod.

“Tell me what's wrong.”

Jameson is pale and exhausted, thin with bad eating and long nights of running, hollowed and hopeless and lovely, lovely as he has ever been, a blue-eyed boy with a softness in his face and power in the lines of his hands. Chase brushes a curl of hair from his brother's eyes, his fingers drifting over the curves of his face.

“It's my fault,” says JJ.

“Oh, buddy – ”

“No, it is, I mean it, it's all my – it's all my fault.”

“Don't say that, Jays. It's not true.”

“I was supposed to be watching Schneep.”

“You did everything you could.”

“Jackie and Marvin went to protect Jack, and I was supposed to watch Schneep, I was supposed to save Schneep, I was supposed to – ”

JJ collapses onto Chase's shoulder, weeping so hard he can barely breathe. All Chase can do is hold him, hold him close and cry out, “You did everything you could. You did everything you could. It's not your fault you were the last line of defense.”

And this is the truth, but it makes nothing better.

Jameson Jackson did his best. Fought his best. Loved his hardest.

It was only enough to save one.

And he's afraid – afraid to the core of his being, afraid down to his trembling heart – that, soon enough, it will no longer be enough to save Chase either.

“I love you,” says Chase. “And you and I? We're going to find some happiness again, someday, okay? Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday. You deserve that much.”

Jameson stares back at him, reaching out to clutch his hands. Slowly, wearily, he lets his watching eyes slip shut, and rests his head on Chase's shoulder.

They sit by the side of the road for a long time. The cicadas are singing in the trees.

                                                             ***

The stars watch over them.

Or maybe they're just watching.

Chase can never tell anymore. Everything feels like a threat these days.

"On the road again," he hums, bouncing his leg and trying to entertain himself by tapping his fingers against his knee. "Oh, I can't wait to get on the road again!"

He pauses, glancing over at JJ.

"That's not true," he admits, and Jameson looks back at him warmly, giving his fine blue eyes a quick roll made visible by the ugly yellow overhead light they flickered on for comfort in the dark.

There's no one else out here. They take back roads when they can.

"What state are we in?"

Jameson frowns, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel thoughtfully before offering Chase a guilty look of surrender.

"You don't know?"

"Maybe P-E-N - "

"Penis, my favorite state, perfect."

Chase gets a punch in the arm for that one. Worth it.

There's a little more fire in JJ tonight, he thinks. He hopes. Maybe it's because they spent more than they should have on dinner to get little ice cream cones for dessert, or maybe there's just been enough time passed that Jameson's paranoia is settling down, but one way or another, he's hoping to see some joy on his face soon. If he keeps cracking enough dumbass jokes, he can get him to smile, can't he? Surely there's some happiness coming their way at some point, considering that the universe has been well and truly fucking them over for the past four weeks. Surely.

Chase glances around for wood to knock on, but he can't reach the trunks of the heavy forest zipping along past their window. The headlights illuminate a warning sign on the side of the road before them, neon yellow with the black form of a deer printed on its surface, and Chase jerks back as he accidentally meets the gaze of the enormous grey owl sitting atop it.

"These woods are creepy," he complains.

"Sleep," suggests JJ authoritatively, pushing Chase's shoulder.

"Hey, you sleep," Chase grumbles back, pushing his shoulder back. "Maybe we could - oh, shit! Is that a CD case?"

His enthusiasm makes Jamie flinch, but a second later he is watching with interest as his brother rifles hurriedly through the pages of the CD holder, laughing louder with each disc he lays eyes on.

"Al Green - Frank Sinatra - holy shit, both discs for the Order of the Phoenix audiobook. You want to listen to some fucking Harry Potter?"

"No."

"Aw, come on."

"Those were Marvin's favorites!"

There's a pause. Chase stares over at his brother. Jameson stares over at the road, pale with distress.

"Yeah," says Chase eventually. "He was a real nerd for this shit."

He gets punched in the shoulder again, but Jameson's eyes are affectionate. Chase grins and adjusts in his seat, crossing his legs in front of him.

"You remember that time he set the kitchen on fire?" he asks.

Jameson blinks, his mouth twitching. "Which time?"

"Ha ha! The time I was cooking a whole goddamn turkey in the oven and he sent everything up in smoke? Schneep stepped into the house, took one look at all of us screaming and trying to put the fire out, and walked right back out."

Jameson snorts, loosening his grip on the steering wheel. Yeah, he remembers. He remembers laughing.

"But that was also the day Jackie came home so badly hurt," Jameson reminds, drawing his hands away from the wheel just for a second.

"Yeah, well, that one was his fault. He never could resist a fight with a guy twice his size. I don't know if you ever heard this - it was before you were created - but he once got his skull busted open by some asshole with a whole mob of lackeys, woke up in the hospital after four days of being comatose, and went out that same time to get his revenge."

"He did not!"

"Oh, he so did. I think that was the only time Schneep ever followed through on his threat to lock him in his room."

Jameson's mouth twitches. He glances over at Chase with an eyebrow raised and then looks back to the road, sighing a content sigh.

Warmth blooms in Chase's chest like the sunflowers along the side of the road. Then the silence drags on for too long and he decides to take drastic action.

"I'm putting one of these CDs in."

"Don't put one of those CDs in!"

"I'm doing it, you can't stop me, I'm - " Chase yanks Sinatra's top hits out of its case and moves for the CD player. Jameson intercepts, shoving his hand out of the way.

"Those all look terrible! I don't want to listen to any of that!"

"Sinatra!" cries Chase, laughing almost too hard to fight back.

"No!"

"Yes!" With a final, determined gesture, Chase slams the CD into the player and turns the volume up.

Jameson shakes his head at him with faux irritation, his eyes shining warm in the ugly light of the car.

"Some day," sings Sinatra, low and wavering, and Chase lets out a whoop of delight. "When I'm awfully low... when the world is cold... I will feel a glow... "

"Just thinking of you!" Chase sings along at the top of his lungs. Jameson shakes his head, trying not to smile, the corners of his mouth edging upwards. "And the way you look tonight!"

"You're so cheesy," says JJ, glancing to the side as a deer leaps through the trees, startled by the headlights. "Such a dork."

"Hey, you're the dork, dapper man."

"Yes, you're lovely!" cries Sinatra, with passion. "With your smile so warm and your cheeks so soft! There is nothing for me but to love you."

"And the way you look tonight!" Chase finishes, breaking down into giggles.

It's one am in Eastern time and this abandoned back road is taking them towards whatever state it feels like. They're in the middle of nowhere, hiding but together, tired but alive.

That's all that matters.

A smile spreads like a sunrise across Jameson's mouth. Chase hollers his delight, only making Jameson laugh harder, leaving them both shaking in their seats, overwhelmed and full of warmth, loving and united, brothers and- there is a man in the middle of the road -

"Jameson!" screams Chase, and his little brother's hands grab the steering wheel and pull -

                                                             ***

“Fuck,” whispers Chase, awakening.

Copper-taste sits in his mouth like poison and he coughs, pain racing through his chest and blood dripping down his lip. Confused, he lets out a soft whimper and tries to sit up, but his seatbelt, crushed tight against his chest, does not allow it.

He's grateful for it, too. Without it, he'd be dead for sure.

There is an arm in front of him too.

His little brother's arm, shattered.

“Jameson,” calls Chase, blinking warm blood from his eyes, trying to see in the darkness.

Jamie is a black silhouette beside him, unmoving.

“Jameson!” he cries again, struggling to breathe.

This can't be happening. They can't have survived this much only for a freak accident to take his last brother from him. Please, God, this can't be happening.

He unclips his seatbelt and shifts in his seat, crumpling against the dashboard and splitting blood onto its grey plastic surface. Through the shadows, he makes out the figure of the ancient tree currenly mashing faces with their stolen car.

They swerved off the road, into the forest. They are miles from civilization. They have no phones. Phones are unsafe. Anti, after all, utilizes internet signals and electricity the same way cowboys utilized horses.

Chase reaches out to touch Jameson's shoulder. Fumbling beside the steering wheel, his fingers find the light switch, yanking it up, and, to his enormous relief, one of the headlights resumes its duties, illuminating the creaking forest all around them. Something scurries away through the bushes.

Jameson is slicked in blood. He rests against the red glass-stained window of the driver's seat, as still and as white as the bones of a deer.

No, this wasn't an accident.

This was someone's fault.

“Hey, asshole,” howls Chase, tumbling out of the side of the car. His fingers dig into earth and twig and worm in the damp floor of the forest. “You've hurt my little brother! Come down here and help us! Why the fuck were you standing in the middle of the road?”

He remembers vaguely the dark shadow of the man, a cold form dressed all in black, with a hood drawn over its head, but he cannot see it now, cannot even make his eyes focus on the road.

“With each word, your tenderness grows...”

Chase startles, staring back at the car. He realizes, at the intersection of confusion and abject terror, that the CD player has just turned itself back on again.

He is a stiffened stag on the side of the road, unable to move, unable to breathe.

“Jameson,” he whispers, and turns away from the figure on the road. He takes it all back. He does not want the man to come down here. He does not want his help.

He crawls to Jameson's side, vomiting blood and his last meal as he drags himself towards his little brother and staggers to his feet, grabbing at the seatbelt that holds him in place.

“Tearing my fear apart,” sings Sinatra, growing louder. “And that laugh wrinkles your foolish heart... Lovely, never ever change...”

And then Chase sees the black-hooded figure of the man, standing close, beside the tree that connected with their car. His jeans are ripped and there, on his breast, a mockery – the letters “PMA” scrawled out in angular font.

“Jameson,” begs Chase, yanking desperately at the seatbelt, unable to get it loose. He scrambles to find a pulse in his neck instead, but his shaking fingers give him no hopeful reply.

“Keep that breathless charm! Won't you please arrange it?”

The CD display glitches.

Chase screams aloud, biting at the seatbelt, choking on the outcry of his broken ribs, hunted down at last, found at last, discovered and destroyed, alone. Finally, he manages to yank loose the seatbelt, but it means nothing. Reaching out to drag him away, he sees that Jameson's legs are crushed by the indent in the car, trapping him better than if he were chained.

Whimpering and gripping at his hair, Chase falls back. Anti is closer now, close enough to touch him, standing still by the engine of the car. His blue and brown eyes are like those of a cat's in the darkness, and Jameson is the rabbit he has caught.

And Chase understands that he cannot save his little brother.

But he could save himself.

“Go on, Chase Brody,” whispers Anti. “Try to run.”

His voice does not glitch. His body does not spasm. This is his victory, and in it not a single flaw is visible or spoken aloud. He has the perfect corpse to contain him.

“Please,” whispers Chase, touching Jameson's hand. “Please.”

“Don't beg after you've put up a fight for the first time in your life,” purrs Anti. His brown eye brightens slowly to green, glowing through the darkness. His hands are stuffed in Jack's hoodie pockets. “The two of you actually managed to evade me for quite some time. Don't you want to get away, Chase?”

He intones the name with a deep sarcasm, grinning around the ironic sound of it.

“I'll even let you run,” he promises. “I've started to enjoy this most dangerous game, hunting the two of you down across the country. You even slipped my vision once or twice. If you run now, I'll give you a two-day headstart, how does that sound? You might even be able to escape me.”

Chase's ribs are broken, but with adrenaline coursing through him, he thinks he could run, or at least stagger back to the highway and wait for help to come. He's got two hundred and forty dollars worth of cash shoved into his pockets, enough to keep him eating for a few days. He could hot wire another car. Escape the hospital before they could bill him. He could live.

“No. No. Not without him.”

Lost and desperate, terrified and resigned, he gives up the idea of escape and does the only thing he can think of – he crawls into the seat beside Jameson, wraps his body around him, and tries to protect his body from Anti.

Jameson is motionless beneath his hands. His face is split into sections of blood and protruding bone. Chase looks down at him and begins to howl, despair exploding through the cheap dam of optimism that has kept him alive for the past four months. Jameson only bleeds in reply.

“If you're going to kill us,” whispers Chase. “Then kill us.”

The stars are watching. Deer creep through the trees, wary and glorious, their eyes shining in the dying glow of the headlight. Here under the trees of the forest, Chase has found his ending.

He's ready to see his brothers. Ready to see Jameson happy and the others unharmed.

He closes his eyes and pictures their smiles, warmer than sunlight, lovely and golden, filling the land of salvation like milk and honey.

They are beautiful and wonderful and joyous, and he sees them now before him.

“Cause I love you!” sings Sinatra, and Anti strides forward, pulling the hood back from Jack's face. “Just the way you look tonight.”

[beerecordings]

7 whump with Marvin if you please :)

Kenzie!! Je t’aime!! Thanks for requesting! Sorry this one got a little out of hand length-wise and also it turned out… pretty dark. Hope you enjoy it anyway :)

7. “Friends? You think they’d be proud to see what you’ve become?”

Hedid it. He did it. He did it.

Heset him free. He set Jack free. The poison is gone from him. Thecorruption is gone from him. Anti is gone from him.

Hishands are still up in front of him, shaking from the exertion of thepower he used to drive the demon out. Jameson is holding him, theirheads close together and their hands clenched, though Marvin has lostmost of the feeling throughout his body. All that remains is heat,and sweat on his face, and the painfully violent beating of hisheart.

Anda darkness in his vision. A darkness in his chest. A darkness in hispower.

“Whatis this?” he whispers, his eyes sliding shut. Pain grits his teethand he groans.

Aroundhim, he hears his family gasping and reassuring and rejoicing. Theysurround him like stars the moon, and there, in the center of it all,is Jack himself.

Heopens his eyes and they are no longer black.

“Reallygone?” Marvin hears Henrik ask, in a whisper.

“R-really– ” Jack coughs and swallows and tries again, his face white andhis throat red. “Really gone. I – you did it.”

“Marv,”says Chase, his voice flooded with admiration.

“ThankGod,” laughs Jackie, happier than he’s been in a long, long time.

AndJameson is pressed warmly against his head, stiff with relief,breathing slow and steady.

They’reproud of him. He hears it as music. Feels it as cold holy water onhis fingers. But he feels also the darkness.

“Whatis this?” Marvin repeats, struggling to swallow. “What is this?”

Thispain? This shadow? This strangeness, like when you wake up in themiddle of the night and know, without knowing how you know, thatthere is someone standing, still and silent, at the foot of your bed,and all you can do is lie there, breathing as quiet as you can,praying, praying, praying that it isn’t real?

Poorkitty cat, says Anti, sweetly,from inside his head, alive in the lower portion of his left frontallobe, and fear makes Marvin’s blood burn in waves across his heart.You really thought you could get rid of me.

Inthe initial storm of cold panic and a desperate need to regain somecontrol, Marvin decides to isolate himself completely.

Hedoesn’t know how he’s going to save himself, but he’ll be damned ifhe takes anyone else down with him. He runs.

Cutsoff contact with his brothers and leaves his cats at home, evenHabakkuk. Calls up a friend who’s out of town and asks to stay at herplace, and then stops talking to any of his other acquaintances –friends from football, friends from the bookstore, the handsomeviolinist he’d been flirting with for weeks. He even stops takingcalls from his human, watching with dull eyes as Jack’s name appearsand reappears, appears and reappears, appears and reappears on thescreen of his phone, followed every time by an increasingly concernedvoicemail.

“Marvin!Man, where did you go? You can’t just disappear like this. Did youuse too much power? Are you hurt? Or sick? I need you to come back.I’m – Marv, I’m scared.”

Noneof it matters. None of it matters until he can get rid of Anti. He’sno longer safe for his family. For his friends. For his Jack.

He’dthought it was scary to see Jack slowly collapse beneath the weightof Anti’s possession. But this – having him in his head – fuck,he didn’t know what fear was. He didn’t have the first idea.

Existencebecomes a survival struggle. Ghost pains echo through his whole body,leaving him exhausted and dismayed. Glimpses of the demon haunt theedges of his visions and his paranoia heightens to a virtually endlessstate of terror. He wakes up almost hourly from his nightmaredattempts to sleep and often finds himself staggering to the bathroomto vomit blood until his teeth are stained red.

He’snever felt so out of control. His emotions are untetherable and hisbody is failing him. His level-headedness has become a wild andendless desperation and sometimes he feels the demon moving hislimbs, his eyes, his mouth, without his consent or even awareness.

He’sscared. He’s scared.

“I’mlosing my mind,” he says three days in, when he wakes up to findhimself standing in Cassie’s kitchen, holding a knife.

There’sblood running down his left cheek. He’s cut himself, hard, a freshred scar perpetually sliced across his white face. He doesn’tremember doing it.

He’ssmart. He’s always been smart. Proud, too. Dignified, he likes tothink, with his fine hair tied back and his blue eyes flashing, hisbody fit for fighting and his clothes neat and suave. He has a quicktemper but rarely lets it drive him wild for more than a moment.

“I’mlosing my mind,” he says again, and tries not to cry.

Antiis quiet. Anti is waiting.

“I’mlosing my mind. I’m losing my… I’m losing.”

Hewants Jamie, or Jackie, or Henrik, or Chase. He wants Cassie, orDominic, or Hesed, or any of his friends. He wants Jack.

Buthe doesn’t want to put them in danger.

Hetrembles his way to the bathroom and presses a hopeless bandage overhis fat new scar. Blood drips off his chin. His eyes are red andswollen with exhaustion. There’s an unrooted dandelion curling likean earring on the side of his head, and he tears it off with oneweary motion of his shaking hands.

Hedoesn’t want them to see him like this anyway.

Thethought makes Anti laugh.

Onday four, he tries his best option. His only option, by now. His onlyconceivable option, now that so many others have failed him, and hisresolve is crumbling. Trembling with fervor and fear, he takes atrain to the country and returns to his favorite woods, wanderingdeep, deep into the forest, where the wind blows in cold ribbons pastthe ancient trunks of the trees and his magic curls like somethingvisceral and blue in his mouth.

Theundead thing in his body shrivels beneath the taste of his power,still weak from his attempt to overtake Jack, but does not die.

“Leaveme, leave me, leave me alone,” Marvin says.

Marvinscreams. Marvin sings, Marvin whispers, Marvin cries.

“Leaveme, leave me, leave me alone.”

Hekneels against the cold pure earth, his arms wrapped around himselfand his head to the ground, and he begs everything good andworthwhile within him to reject the horrible hot presence of thedemon, and the strong old forest to take Anti away, and return him tothe nothing he came from.

ButAnti does not go.

You’repathetic, says Anti’s voice,still soft inside his brain. My darling, my kitten, mydearest friend – don’t you know you can’t be rid of me?

“Iwill be rid of you,” Marvin hisses. “I will.”

Thepurification you gave to Jack was your last hope. You exhausted ahundred other options. Nothing gets rid of me. Purify again andyou’ll just give me up to another host, faekid. In any body, I willdestroy my oh-so-generous soul-keep, track down and slaughtereveryone you love, and tear my way back into Sean’s body to make himmy own again.

“Howdare you speak his name?” Marvin howled, and clover and moss burstup in the place where his fists struck the ground.

Faceit, says Anti, and, for just amoment, he actually sounds like he pities him. You’ve lost.And you always will.

Marvin leaves saplings in his footsteps and blue orchids for everypatch of earth dampened by his crying, but he cannot leave the demonbehind. As he walks away, he muses that even the forest no longerwants him.

Corrupt,says Anti, and then nothing more for the rest of the day.

Hegoes to Hesed a week in.

He’sfully weeping his way down the pavement and he’s incredibly cognizantof everyone turning to look at him, frowning as he passes, murmuringto each other as he goes. It makes his blood burn and his face hotwith shame and anger. There’s two more bandages across his face andone is still welling blood from where Anti tried to carve his ownname into Marvin’s cheek. There are flowers in his arms. They lookenough like a bouquet, but they sprouted in his arms and they won’tstop growing – roses, red carnations, poppies, and a spattering ofwhat he thinks are freesia dancing happily in his arms and tumblingonto the pavement behind him.

Atleast his hair looks nice. He managed to shower, to braid it and pinit up into a neat bun. It smells like coconut and there’s one wavingstrand untucked from his ear.

Heknocks frailly on the door of his friend – your friend!Anti laughs at him and Marvin considers turning back, white withfear, but Hesed is already opening the door.

“Oh,”he says, softly, sweetly, worried. “Hi, baby.”

Marvinnearly chokes on relief. In a second, he is shoving forward with hisroses and carnations and poppies and freesia, and there’s brightviolet heliotropium too now, and Hesed reaches out as if on instinctand pulls Marvin right to his chest, wrapping his arms around him andholding him close, close, close. His violinist’s fingers are cool andunscarred.

“Oh,baby, where were you? Are you okay? What’s wrong? Even sick you lookgorgeous, do you know that? What happened to your face, huh? Fuck, Ineed to call Jackie, he’s been so stressed looking for you – ”

“No,”cries Marvin, burying his face in Hesed’s shoulder. “No, don’t callhim. He can’t help, Hesed.”

“Whatare you talking about? Marvin, look at me. Look at me. What’s wrong?”

Hiseyes are deep and brown. He is beautiful the way old buildings andoverfull gardens and love are beautiful. His mouth is very gentle.He’s only ever shown Marvin kindness and he laughs often, but now hejust looks scared. Marvin wishes he could –

“Youdisgust me,” says Anti, and for a second, Marvin assumes it’s justinside his head, but then he realizes his mouth has moved, and Hesedfrowns.

Hedoesn’t shout or reject him, though. He just repeats: “Marvin.What’s wrong?”

Marvinshoves away from him, spilling his flowers onto the floor, and hedarts past him to the bathroom. He can’t tell if it’s him or Antimoving.

Andthen he is in front of the mirror.

AndAnti looks back.

“I’mgoing to kill your little darling,” Anti sings, opening the firstdrawer of the shelves beneath Hesed’s sink. There’s a toothbrush anda first aid kit inside.

“No,”Marvin whispers. Tries to whisper. There’s no movement on his tongue,on his mouth, on his face.

“No?You don’t want me to? You can’t see him again.”

“Iwon’t see him again. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I was justlonely. I’m sorry.”

“Ringaround the rosie,” Anti sings, opening the second drawer, whereHesed’s medicines are arranged in neat categories. Anti’s fingersmuse over a powerful antihistamine near the back, but then he moveson. Marvin hears Hesed swear and mess with his phone.

“Pocketfull of posies…”

“He’scalling Jackie,” Marvin warns. Anti wipes tears off their face. “Ifhe comes, he’ll stop you.”

Alie. They both know he’s lying.

“Ashes,ashes!” Anti opens the bottom drawer, where Hesed stores his razorand clippers and the thin sort of scissors hairdressers use to trimoff split ends. Anti glances up at his reflection and smiles.

“Jackie?”Hesed demands. “Jackie, it’s me – he’s here, he locked himself inthe bathroom. You need to come right now.”

“I’lldo whatever you want,” Marvin struggles to speak. Anti doesn’t evenseem to notice the battle he’s waging. “Whatever you want. Just lethim go. We can go back to Cassie’s apartment. He’s not a part ofthis. He’s not a part of this. Let him go.”

“Youlove him?” asks Anti sweetly.

“I– I – he – ”

“Admit,kitty. I want to hear you say it.”

“Ilove him. I love him, let him go.”

“No,he didn’t say,” Hesed is explaining. He sounds frantic. He soundsscared. “Jackie, please – what, am I just supposed to let thishappen? You want me to step back and leave it to you? I love him –”

“Callyourself my bitch,” Anti continues, sing-song, delighted.

“Andyou’ll leave him alone?”

“Callyourself my bitch, say it.”

“Fuck,I – I’m your – ” Marvin chokes on his dignity. Anti snatchesthe silver scissors out of the bottom drawer, teeth bared.

“No,please! I’m your bitch!”

Antieven lets their mouth move to speak it. It makes the demon laugh,loud and erratic.

“Holyshit,” whispers Hesed, and the handle of the door shakes, hard, buthe can’t break in. “Darling, it’s okay, whatever’s wrong, we’regoing to get you help, okay, I’m here, I’m right here.”

“I’msorry,” Marvin manages to choke out, but then Anti is in controlagain, and the silver scissors are still in hand.

“Okay,”grants the demon. “He doesn’t need to be punished. What a sweet boyhe is. You do, though. Yeah, kitty. Look at your pretty hair. Youdon’t need that anymore. You’re not gonna see your little worshipperever again.”

Hegrips the braided bun on Marvin’s head – on his head. Not reallyhis style.

“Ringaround the rosie, pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes!”

Marvinis crying.

“Weall fall down!”

Anticuts his hair off.

Heloses control rapidly after that.

Jackiedoesn’t show up in time to resist either of them. Anti slams Hesed’shead against the side of the bathroom door until he’s unconscious andditches Marvin’s phone.

Theydon’t go back to Cassie’s. He doesn’t know where they are. It smellslike dust and no one bothers them. It’s more like an office buildingor a warehouse than a home.

Anti,not yet strong enough to hold the reigns for long, lets Marvin go fora few hours, but all he does is fail at warding off a complete mentalbreakdown.

Hewants his friends and his violinist. He wants Jameson, Chase, Henrik,and Jackie. He wants Jack.

Ican’t keep him safe. I can’t keep the demon away. I can’t even savemyself.

Itburns to admit. It burns. Anti laughs.

Marvintears at the torn remains of his hair and weeps.

Hehates this, he hates this, he hates himself, he hates this.

Dayspass and he begins to die. His panic transfers to power and his heartcan’t take the constant outpour. Flowers and fire and floating thingsaround him. He hears thoughts that aren’t his when they’re on thestreet and sometimes dead things appear in the edges of his vision.He can’t sleep. Anti doesn’t feed him.

I’mlosing my mind, I’m losing my mind, I’m losing.

“Youwant to be saved,” says Anti softly. “I know, sweetheart. Go on,say it.”

“Iwant to be saved!”

Hedoes, he does, he does.

“I’llbe with my human again soon.”

DidAnti say that or did he? Is this even his flesh? Anti gives him a fewminutes of control and he spends the whole time staring at his hands,trying to force himself to realize that they’re his.

Thisis real. This is real. Is this what I’ve become?

Hefinds himself in front of a mirror. He doesn’t know how much time haspassed. He doesn’t know what Anti’s done.

Hiswhole face – from his forehead to his chin, from ear to ear – iscovered in deep, heavy-bleeding scars.

Criss-cross,straight, long and short. There’s too much blood in his right eye forhim to see out of it, or maybe Anti has popped it out.

Heis the ugliest thing he’s ever seen.

“Wantanother one?”

Ittakes him a long time to realize Anti is asking him a question.

“No,”he says, dazed.

Hypnotized,he realizes absent-mindedly. That’s why nothing hurts. When did thathappen? He doesn’t remember anything.

“You’lldie in a few days,” says Anti gently. “After I leave you to goback to my human. How does that sound?”

Hismouth opens and closes again. For a second, he sits in the haze ofAnti’s power, but then his fear sets him free.

“No!”he screams, jerking back, and pain – no, fire, sunfire, hellfire –erupts through the slashed flesh of his face. His eye is actuallygone; he can feel the empty squelching of veins in its socket.Horror and revulsion explode like smoke bombs in his ribcage. “No,I don’t want to die! I want to go home! I want my family! I want myfriends! Jameson! Jackie! Sean! Sean!Please, someone help me! Please, God, pl – ”

Hechokes and vomits as Anti yanks back control, throwing him to theback of his own head. Marvin screams in whatever medium he has leftand thorns explode in the walls around them, tearing through cheapcork walls and tile flooring to wrap around Anti’s wrists – no, hisown wrists, where he used to hang his bracelets or tug on the ends ofhis gloves, his wrists, his body. A holler comes from his mouth, andthis time, the cry is Anti’s.

“Littlebrat,” hisses the demon, tearing at the thorns. He laughs as theytear deep into Marvin’s wrists, causing them both hurt. “Look,aren’t we joined close now? You can’t get rid of me and you werestupid to think you could. Say it, admit it. You can’t get rid ofme.”

“We’llfind a way,” Marvin snarls.

Andit is he who drags them to their feet.

“Who’s‘we?‘” Anti laughs.

“Mybrothers. My friends. Sean and I. Fine, you’re right, I was stupid. Ishould never have tried to handle this alone.”

Heshoves through the barricaded door of the abandoned building andstumbles down into the street. Someone screams. He wonders if they’llcall the cops. He needs to get home, soon. Lucky for him, Anti’sarrogant. He doubts they’re far from his family. He grabs the man whoscreamed and, in a polite slur of exhaustion and blood loss, asks himwhich way it is to Carnation Park, close to home.

“Youthink your brothers will want you?” Anti hisses as they barrel downthe street, blood dripping down their face. “Look at you. Look atyou. Look at you.”

Marvinswallows back copper. Passes by his favorite bookstore. Inside, hesees Dominic – warm, friendly, funny Dominic, an old friend –working the counter.

“Gotalk to him,” laughs Anti. “Show him your missing eye and yourshorn hair, little sheep. He’d help you!”

Shamewells in Marvin’s gut. He can’t bear to think of Dominic seeing himlike this. He keeps going, dizzy and sick. Bleeding fast.

Hesed’sapartment building rises before him.

“Gosee him! Your love! Your darling! Go kiss him and have him call yourbrothers! Or do you think he will have forgotten what you did?Tearing into his house like a freak, flowers squirming with growth inyour arms, cutting off your hair in his bathroom and leaving himunconscious and afraid. He probably thought you were high. But heloves you, doesn’t he? Go see him!”

Tearsburn in Marvin’s eyes. No, Hesed won’t want him after that. And hedeserves better anyways.

“I’mclose enough I can get to my brothers,” he croaks, and the demonlaughs.

Theystumble. Anti hasn’t cared for Marvin’s body at all. Maybe themagician will die soon after all. He’s never missed Henrik more.

It’sbeen weeks, but Carnation Park is the same as it always is.

Onlya block away from the hidden house, this place has always beenimportant to them. This is where Chase brings his kids when they’rewith them, pushing them up and down on the swings for hours on end.Jameson kissed his first romance here, beneath the bird’s nest wherethe woodpeckers live – came home flushed and proud, grinning fromear to ear, someone else’s scent still lingering on his jacket. WhenHenrik’s trauma was trapping him in the house, this was the firstplace he forced himself to walk to, and when Jackie was exhaustedafter a fight, this was where he came to watch the leaves fall andstop thinking about anything at all. It is the address they give tocab drivers, the meeting spot for any excursion, the place marked“Home” on all their Google Maps.

Andit is here that Marvin stops.

Stops,sinks, collapses onto a green bench beneath a dogwood tree by the moss pond, and can go nofurther.

Fora minute, Anti is quiet too.

Theywatch the birds flit through the trees. Someone’s dog barks. It’stwilight and the moon is already visible in the blue-dusk sky.

Thereare flowers everywhere. It’s spring. Marvin can’t see them. There isblood and salt in his eyes.

Whyare you crying? asks Anti.

Hissmile makes Marvin’s mouth turn up. Cold and hateful. Too manyreddened teeth.

Ithought you were going to get help. I thought you were going back toyour little hiding hole. Isn’t there something you were looking for,kitty cat?

Marvinsobs.

Curlsup on himself on that park bench.

Bloodstains his black dress pants.

“Iwant my brothers,” he whispers. “Please, please. I want myfriends. My brothers. My human.”

“Oh,Marvin,” says Anti, lifting up their head slowly, slowly. “Youthink any of them will want you now?”

“They’dlove me no matter what,” Marvin screams. “They’d love memutilated. They’d love me blind. I know that! I know that!”

“Butyou don’t go to them! And forget the way you look, my dove, myrabbit, my witch. Don’t you know what I’ve used this body for? Deathand worse, faekid. Death and worse. Rosebushes bursting fromribcages…”

“No!”Marvin howls.

Isthe blood on his hands from his face or his enemies? He doesn’tremember. He didn’t know. It’s not his fault. “It’s not my fault!It’s not my fault! I didn’t know!”

“Oh,puppet, but you remember some of it. You remember calling yourselfmine. You remember leaving that forest, even though it was your lasthope. You’ve had a thousand chances to kill yourself, and maybe takeme out with you, but you haven’t! Coward boy.”

“No,”Marvin says again. It is the only thing he can say. He can hardlyspeak through the rapid-fire beating of his heart, hardly thinkthrough the heat swallowing up his brain. “No, no, no.”

“Yourfriends? You think they’d be proud, to see what you’ve become? They’dhand you over to the police, don’t you know that? Hand you over andremember you as a freak. You can’t trust them. They don’t want you.

“Yourbrothers? You think they could still love you, after this? You ranaway from them. And for what? I’ve won anyway, Marvin. Now you’re alittle murderer. I should have let Jackie catch us as we took theirlives. I would have loved for you to see the hatred in his eyes. Therevulsion. Ugly little thing.

“Andas for my human –well, pet, you and I both know Sean would never want you after this.He created you to save him. And could you do it?”

Alie.

Jackdid not create Marvin to save him.

Hejust wanted a friend.

Hejust wanted a brother.

Inthat moment, Jack would have done anything for Marvin to come home.Would have given anything to wipe the blood from his face, smooth his short hair, and hold him close, close, close. The others would burst in too, so relieved it would make their chests hurt. Henrik would patch everything up and make all the pain go away, and Jackie and Chase would be there too, soothing and comforting, distracting him for hours on end and promising him safety, and Jameson - Jameson, JJ, his friend, his brother - would stay by his side and cling to him for hours and hours and hours, the word “love” pressed in sign language against his heart.

ButMarvin doesn’t come home.

Marvin doesn’t come home.

“AmI wrong?” asks Anti.

Bloodand salt. Black flowers beneath hisfeet. He’s never seen any flowers like them.

“Justgo to them,” Anti mocks him. “Just go. Go to your friends. Go toyour brothers. Won’t they be proud? Won’t they be proud to see you?Magnificent. Magnificent. Get up. Isn’t that what you wanted? Getup.”

But Reader, Marvin never does get up.

Marvinnever does get up.

JustAnti.

Theflowers in Carnation Park wither.

[beerecordings]

Jameson Jackson

Part 10 of My Brother’s Keeper. (Part 1 l Previous l Next)

Thank you so much to all of you who have helped me get this far. Like, seriously, I kind of want to make a thank you post with some of my favorite comments and reactions cause this is my first fic and it has been so much fun sharing it with you all. I only became active in this community - or any online community - a few months ago and I really didn’t know I could enjoy it this much. Even when I feel REAL GUILTY for what I write, it’s still fun to see you yelling at me. Take all my uwus, that’s all I’m saying.

So far this fic is 15,000 words long (plus 21,000 words of rough drafts and discards) and... I don’t know, I have more in the wings, if you guys are still interested in this story.

Ok last note: AFTER THIS I PROMISE YOU WE WILL TAKE IT DOWN A NOTCH OR TWELVE AND WE WILL HAVE LESS SADNESS CAUSE THINGS AND MAYBE EVEN SOME HAPPINESS and then of course when you least expect it I will make you feel things again but ANYWAY

His name is not Dapper. His name is Jameson, and he killed Chase Brody.

Jackie can't lose Chase.

It's almost laughable, the idea of Chase dying.

What, Chase dead? My perfect little brother? White and unmoving, stiffer than cardboard and blue in the mouth and the eyes? No, I don't believe it. It's scary and awful and it would kill me if it happened, yes, but I don't believe it for a second.

Anti lies, after all. Anti lies a great deal and about a great many things. Now that he is gone, Jackie simply bites back tears, promises himself he won't panic, and makes his way back down the stairs as calmly as he can.

His spine is being sawed down the middle and the pain is enough to make his whole body shake. When Chase sees him, he's going to run right up to him and fuss over him, and call him a hero and promise him painkillers, and then the two of them are going to help Schneep to a cab and go home and take care of each other, and everything will be okay again.

Yes, everything will be okay again. I can't lose Chase.

He's calm. He's fine. Everything will be okay.

The third level of the growing building which Anti lead them to has an unfinished wood floor and tarp over the windows. The wind blows slow and cold over Jackie's hoodie and the only light comes from passing cars. He hears the horn of a train somewhere far away.

There's a certain taste to death in the air.

Like salt and copper.

“Chase?” he calls, keeping his voice light. “Chaser, is that you?”

There's two bodies on the floor and one kneeling beside them.

“Chaser, it's okay, he's gone. It's just me, I'm right here. Is everything okay? He said something about Jameson. Did you find Henrik?”

He knows he needs to summon a light, but he can't bear to see just yet.

“Chaser,” he says, and refuses to let his voice shake, refuses to let tears fall. “Chase, please answer me.”

He's close enough now that he can tell it is not Chase kneeling, but Jameson, and he knows he should feel something for his long-lost brother – anger or guilt or sorrow – but he doesn't have time to be shocked right now.

“Where's my brother?” asks Jackie.

Chase is at his feet, and he does not move.

“Where's my brother?” asks Jackie.

“I killed him,” say Dapper's hands, shaking like a seizure. His eyes speak regret so loudly he might as well be screaming. “I killed him and I didn't mean to.”

“No,” says Jackie, without inflection, because there is nothing else for him to say.

It takes him so long to summon a light. It takes him long minutes to summon a light. He can't bear to see just yet. He can't bear to see.

Jackie looks down. Chase's blood is everywhere. He's lying slumped against Henrik's unconscious body and he's dead.

Jackie starts to laugh.

Dapper drags himself away and vomits until there is nothing but bile in his stomach. Jackie goes into a hysteria so wild he can't even register what's happening until Chase's corpse is in his hands.

“My baby brother!” he screams. “My baby, my baby, my baby!”

The world is ending. The world is ending.

“No!” He screams until he cannot breathe, until his chest burns and his heart could be giving out, until his tears make the whole world unfocused and faraway. “No, no, no! No, please, God, no! Chaser, wake up! Chaser, please! Oh, my heart, my brother, please! Anti, take me instead! Take me instead!”

Chase had come towards Henrik. Dapper had been Anti's so fully that he could barely think through the red haze in his head. By the time Chase pulled a gun, he was simply reacting, and he disarmed him, and turned the gun around on him, and shot him in the heart.

Chase had taken only seconds to die. He hadn't been angry or frightened or even upset. He had only been sorry.

“I should have saved you,” he had said. His fingers left stains of blood on Jameson's cheek. “I should have saved you a long time ago. Now I'll never get to know you. I'm sorry. It's my fault.”

Anti lies often, and he had lied many times that night. But he told the truth when he promised Dapper that blood would put the fire out. As soon as he shot Chase, Anti's hatred vanished, and Jameson was left behind, in horror and in fear, shaking so hard his teeth drew blood from his tongue, his hands locked in the word “sorry.”

There's many things that could be said about what happened – about how Chase wasn't frightened of his little brother for a second, about how the realization that Jameson was not dead filled him up with joy and with guilt, about how the part of Jameson that wished to be Chase's was not as strong as the part of him that belonged to Anti, and about how Chase, with his dying breath, had told Jameson he loved him so, so much, please don't blame yourself, I love you, I love you –

If Jameson could speak, he would say so many things. He would say, “I had to kill him. I had no will. Do you know how powerfully his rage compelled me? I don’t even remember what happened. I don’t even remember how the gun came to be in my hand. I couldn’t control the fire and he couldn't pull me from it. I have always been Anti’s.”

He would say, “I love Anti, because he is all there has ever been for me to love, but I have dreamt of you, and something inside me would rather be yours than his, but it can never be, and I will never be free of this hatred.”

He would say, “I'm so scared. Please help me. Please, call me Jameson again and save me from myself.”

But Jamie can’t speak and Chase is dead and Jamie is the one who killed him, so does any of it even matter?

“Wake up,” Jackie is whispering, bent low over Chase's body, brushing the hair from his eyes. “Wake up, come back to me.”

Yes, it matters, Jameson decides, clenching his trembling hands and doing his best to breathe even though this feels like suffocation. Yes, it matters, because he loved me, and I want to love him too. It matters because I want to be free and he wanted to save me. It mattes because I can undo this. I can undo this.

He can.

He doesn't know how he knows, but he knows, the same way he knew his name was Jameson the first time Henrik said it in that cold little house where Anti kept them both prisoner.

He can undo this.

He moves towards Jackie as slowly as he ever moved towards Anti, but there is no violence left in Jackie's hands, just sorrow and regret and self-hatred. He looks up at his littlest brother with a black kind of grief in his scarred eyes.

“What?” he croaks, holding Chase's corpse in his arms. “What do you want? You killed my little brother... You killed him...”

Jamie falls to his knees beside them and holds Chase's hands in his own.

“You are the fourth brother I've failed, Jameson Jackson,” Jackie whispers. “So if Anti told you to kill me too, just do it. All I ever wanted was to keep them safe. All I ever wanted was to keep you safe, Chaser, please, please...”

Unbearable. Unbearable. Unbearable.

“I have to save him,” Jameson says, and bends over Chase's body, and cries so hard he can barely breathe. “I have to save him! I have to save him! I'm so fucking sorry!”

If Jackie answers with despair, he does not hear it, and if Henrik wakes up and falls to his knees beside them, he does not feel it, and if he is disobeying Anti, he does not care, because his name is Jameson, not Dapper, and a strange power has awoken inside his chest.

“I'm going to save you.”

He was born with a clock in his pocket and a ticking in his ears. He has made time slow and speed and pause more than once before, though he never noticed it. He was created with purpose. He was created with power. He was created with love, and by Jack.

He was not an accident. He was not a mistake. He is Jameson Jackson, the smallest of five, the time traveler, and though he is not awake now to say it, Jack always knew he would need the brass watch tucked away in his pocket.

Jameson turns back time.

Jameson turns back time.

Jameson turns b