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fandom-necromancer · 3 years

Text

The daring date

This was prompted by an awesome anon! Enjoy some long overdue Allen60!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Allen60

Allen sat in his office, absent-mindedly staring through the blinds. It has been a week now and still he hadn’t gotten used to the new face in the force. The new familiar face. A RK800 unit, dubbed Sixty not to confuse him with his exact twin in the building next door. To be honest, the SWAT Captain had no idea what to think of the android. Normally he would at least try to keep his prejudices against them at bay. They were people now and Allen had no problems accepting the fact once he had spoken to a few of them. But this specific one… He simply didn’t trust him and still searched for reasons to get him out of his team.

The official file for the bot was spotless. But of course, rumours had spread still and being part of the raid on Cyberlife tower, the SWAT team could confirm them. Sixty had threatened Lieutenant Anderson and would have without doubt killed him, had the android not been shot himself. Right in the middle of his forehead. He was supposed to be dead - every human would be. But no, he was repaired and deviated and thrown into society. Deviancy was supposed to be the wondrous medicine to every wrong an android could possibly commit. But Allen wasn’t so sure when androids had had a certain programmed freedom even before deviation and this specific android had still decided to shoot Hank when there must have been other possibilities to fulfil his mission. And who said androids weren’t capable of committing crimes, just like humans? Who said that Sixty, just because he deviated, wasn’t still loyal to Amanda or a certain belief? And now he was infiltrating SWAT, possibly trying to gain their trust just to betray them later. He knew he had no evidence for his theory, but his gut had proven themselves to be correct almost every time, so Allen would keep an eye on the new android. Who knew, maybe-

‘Captain?’ He looked up to the door, where Frank had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Without knocking, as always. ‘Err… Yes?’ ‘You joining game night this evening?’ ‘Whose turn is it?’, he asked caught off guard. ‘Jensen’s! I think he decided on starting with poker, but I haven’t asked.’ ‘Yeah, I’m in. I think I can manage 7pm.’ ‘Great! I’ll let him know.’

Allen sighed, as soon as he was alone in his office again and decided to try and do some actual work today. In all his paranoia about the new android, he had almost forgotten it was the last Friday of the month – game night. He usually enjoyed them. It was one of these team-building exercises that actually worked as it wasn’t obligatory. Although normally most attended them. The SWAT team really was a team, working atmosphere good enough pulling rank wasn’t necessary most of the time. Allen really hoped the android wasn’t invited. But he guessed not. As in many other points, his team was pretty uniformly suspicious of the RK800 too.

It was raining as he parked his car in front of Jensen’s house later that evening. He was a bit late as it seemed, but he was greeted with enthusiasm nonetheless and a coke was pushed into his hand. Most others were already sitting at the table with beer and other beverages and someone hastily gave Allen his seat and poker chips as he was clearly loosing already. A few pleasant hours and rounds later that was a thing of the past as most of the other players were too drunk to remember the rules or keep up a pokerface. Allen had already driven quite a few into surrender and at some point, as if on a hidden signal, they decided to stop playing. What unfortunately meant they settled on the incredibly uncreative idea to play truth or dare.

Allen sighed, regretting his decision to stay sober tonight, but played along. It could still be fun after all. It started quite simple with everyday questions and mostly silly chores to do on dare. Unfortunately, it didn’t stay that way. ‘Are you single?’, was the first question in the truth-category, Allen sighed deeply over. ‘Why? Are you searching for someone?’, he returned hoping to embarrass the man and be able to skip answering. The other’s laughed, but the one that had asked him just shrugged. ‘Yes, actually, but you’re not my type, no offense there.’ It continued on and Allen felt relatively save, having passed the first awkward question. When it was his turn again, he groaned and demanded “truth” again. He could live with his team knowing intimate details about him. He didn’t like giving them blackmailing material in the form of videos or pictures of him doing something ridiculous though.

Unfortunately, his team had other plans: ‘Come on, you picked that so often already. Choose dare, come on. Would be unfair!’ He rolled his eyes, but caved in quickly as others joined the chorus. ‘Fine. Dare.’ ‘Oh, I actually didn’t think you would allow us’, the other chuckled. ‘I have nothing. You got something guys?’ Oh no. Everyone talked over each other, but it was one, Allen would have guessed Jensen himself, who screamed louder than everyone else: ‘Go on a date with the new android!’ It went dead quiet immediately, but soon they were laughing at Allen’s shocked expression. ‘No. No way!’, he protested, but the rest of his team instantly shook their heads. ‘You have to now! No going back on that!’ ‘I… Fuck, fine, I will ask him on a date, you lunatics. But that’s it, if he says no, that’s out of my hands.’ ‘Deal.’

Monday came far too soon, and Allen sat in his office once again, watching the android. He swore then and there to never attend another game night ever again. But well, better to get this over soon else they would bug him for weeks. He guessed the chance of the android agreeing was close to zero anyways. The whole week he had never seen him near any other member of SWAT if it wasn’t needed for work and seldomly speaking more than strictly necessary with his colleagues. He would just go there, ask him and then the android would decline and go on with his business. Simple as that.

He approached Sixty’s desk and the android immediately looked up, seemingly preparing to stand up. Allen gestured to remain seated and he relaxed but nodded at him in greeting. ‘Captain. Anything I can do for you?’ His voice eerily sounded like Connor’s, maybe with a little less intonation. ‘Err… yeah, weird question maybe, but are you free tonight?’ God, this was embarrassing. ‘Oh. Sure. Planning a mission?’ ‘Uhm… No, actually it’s rather personal.’ ‘Personal?’ ‘Dinner?’ ‘Oh’, the android blinked, face unmoving. ‘Sure, what time?’ Fuck. Allen had not expected the android to actually agree. Shit. That was bad. ‘At seven?’ ‘Fine with me. Where?’ ‘Err… I’ll send you the address.’ ‘Okay. Looking forward to it.’

Allen turned around and grimaced as soon as he was out of sight of the android. He glared at Jensen who was barely containing his laughter and entered his office to remain there for the rest of the day. Fuck, now he had to come up with a place to go on a date with the murder bot.

He drove up to the sole restaurant in all of Detroit that served both android and human food. He had been lucky to get a table for today. He still didn’t know what the hell he was doing here, but well, worst case he would have to be here for a few hours and call it done. He saw the android already waiting at the entrance and tried to at least fake the polite smile. ‘Hello, Sixty.’ ‘Hello, Captain.’ ‘Err… Allen’s fine’, he commented. Shit, even his team didn’t call him Captain unless outsiders were around, or it was a work issue. ‘We’re not at work after all.’ ‘Okay, then hello Mr. Allen.’ ‘Uh, yeah, okay, let’s go in.’ Awkward.

They entered and were shown their table. The waiter spared them any more small talk, taking their orders for drinks and handing them the menus. A few minutes passed as they both chose their food, but after that they had to wait again until the waiter would come back. And the silence that caused was as uncomfortable as it could get. ‘So…’, Sixty spoke up in the end. ‘What exactly is this?’ Allen’s shoulders sagged a little. ‘Do you want the honest truth?’, he sighed in defeat. The android nodded, and Allen answered: ‘We played truth or dare. They dared me to ask you on a “date”.’ The android huffed with a humorless smile. ‘Well, it’s nice being a part of something I guess, even if it means being part of a joke.’ Allen frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Okay, here are your drinks, what can I get you?’ Allen flinched, he hadn’t even noticed the waiter appearing. Sixty wasn’t as bothered, ordering for himself and Allen caught himself to follow short. Once the man was gone again, the android sat up. ‘I mean that I know you and your team could do well without me.’ ‘That obvious, huh?’, Allen asked, embarrassed about their sentiment being this obvious. ‘I mean, In the last week I barely spoke to anyone and no one even approached me.’ Sixty shrugged. ‘But that’s fine, I get you are close with each other, going on dangerous missions. I guessed as much as I got assigned the job. I hope I can prove my worth to you in action.’

‘I’m sorry’, Allen mumbled in all honesty. ‘It’s just…’ Sixty waited for him to continue, but nothing came. ‘Just what?’ ‘It’s hard to trust you when all we know about you is that you held our colleague at gunpoint and the only thing keeping you from pulling the trigger was getting shot.’ The android smirked. ‘Yeah, I get that. I could explain to you how I was under Amanda’s full control that time, being ordered to stop Connor by any means necessary, or be permanently deactivated myself. But I guess it wouldn’t change a thing, am I right?’

He smiled sadly at Allen, who couldn’t help but feel like a total asshole. ‘Sorry.’ ‘It’s fine, really’, Sixty reassured him. ‘I guess it just needs time of us working together for you and your team to realise I won’t suddenly go full terminator on you.’ ‘So you were forced to nearly shoot Hank?’ ‘I mean, I was forced to end the revolution or die. I had to stop Connor for that. And Lieutenant Anderson was his weakness. His partner and only emotional support in this world. I guess if you ask if I was forced to kill him, then no, I wasn’t. But it really is a question of how far you are willing to go to protect your own life when you have only lived for a few hours at that point and don’t know what that even means yet.’ Allen stared at the tablecloth, trying to process what he’d just heard. ‘I don’t plan on holding the Lieutenant at gunpoint ever again, if that means anything’, Sixty carefully stated then. ‘Or put my own life about anyone else’s for that matter. I’ve learned my lesson staying with New Jericho, listening to all these android’s life stories and learning what life could eventually be.’

Allen looked up into the android’s eyes, realising to what extend he had misjudged him. ‘What made you chose police work then?’, he asked with honest interest. ‘Honestly? It was a heat of the moment decision. The DPD was hiring and I knew Connor worked with them. I thought maybe that would make it easier for me. Following my initial purpose and living with people that accepted him despite his crimes.’ ‘Crimes?’ ‘Well, he was a spy for Cyberlife initially before he switched sides. And he did kill at least two humans at Cyberlife tower. If you think about it, he actually did worse things than I have. But maybe I misjudged that.’

The waiter reappeared with their food, giving Allen time to make a decision. ‘I will talk with my team’, he stated as he had disappeared again. ‘I believe we all fell for prejudice here. I’ll tell them to give you a chance.’ Sixty eyed him lifting a brow. ‘Captain, do you really think this is necessary?’ ‘Yes, I think so. I don’t think you should be held accountable for something you couldn’t control.’ ‘I…’ The android looked at what looked like blue pudding in front of him. ‘Thank you, Captain. That really means a lot to me.’

They began eating mostly to play down the serious talk, but the silence really didn’t help making the whole thing feel less awkward and unnatural. Allen thought about what to talk about with someone he basically knew nothing about, but only one thing came to his mind. He tried to find something more fitting, but ultimately, everything was better than the silence. So, he spoke up again: ‘Okay, let’s stop talking about work for a while. Let’s talk about you, if you want, of course. What do you like? Any hobbies?’ That seemed to catch the android off guard. ‘I like… music?’ ‘Really? What kind of music? Favourite genre?’ ‘Err… No. I haven’t listened to a lot yet. Any recommendations?’ Allen chuckled, knowing this was a dangerous question as he liked to ramble. ‘Oh, were to start? I have a whole list…’ ‘Just give me a song, I will listen to it.’ ‘Right now?’

Sixty tapped his temple. ‘Android, remember? Can listen to it in my head.’ ‘Okay, not how you are supposed to hear music, but fine.’ He continued to list off a few of his favourite songs and stopped after he thought to have supplied the android with the essentials for now. Then he continued to eat, coughing when Sixty spoke up again: ‘Okay, I listened to them.’ ‘What?’ ‘I can listen to them simultaneously. I liked them.’ Allen stared at him. ‘Okay, that really isn’t how you listen to music.’ ‘Then teach me: How do humans listen to music?’ ‘One song at a time?’, Allen begun, not having imagined to ever need to explain that. ‘And normally coming from a speaker.’ ‘Inefficient’, Sixty commented. ‘But-‘ ‘If you hear one song at a time, you will never have listened to all of them in your whole lifetime.’ ‘I mean, it’s true, but-‘ ‘And you never get to see the similarities in between them. Analysing all the small changes in frequencies and subtle differences in between genres.’ Allen sat there staring. ‘Okay, I think we enjoy music on a very different level then.’ Sixty laughed. ‘I guess so, yes. But humans are inefficient at most tasks, so I don’t blame you.’ ‘Thank you?’, the SWAT Captain tried, but couldn’t help but smile too. ‘Okay then, what else are androids so much better at?’ Sixty smirked. ‘I have a list. It’s alphabetised.’

The evening was actually quite fun after its initial difficulties. Sixty just seemed to need a jump start to get over his hesitant demeaner. Once they had initiated their personal talk, he ended up unveiling he was actually a quite cocky person, sure of himself and almost stubbornly ambitious. But despite that, he really seemed to care for others, wanting to use his strong suits to help those that needed it. Somehow, despite Allen’s previous impression of the android, he ended up liking him and wanting to get to know him better than possible in one evening.

Unfortunately, that very evening was about to end as it got late and already was dark outside. They paid for their respective meal, although Allen jokingly stated his co-workers had specifically asked him to take him on a date. Sixty just laughed and told him they wouldn’t have to know every detail. As they exited the restaurant, the android turned to him before entering the automated taxi he had called. ‘And? Enjoyed your dare?’ Allen huffed. ‘Actually, I did. Obviously, this wasn’t a date, but it was nice getting to know you. I’m looking forward to work with you and… Well, if you want to do something like this again, I would be up for it.’ ‘Really?’, the android asked. ‘I made it to the second date?’ Allen closed his eyes and sighed somehow not knowing what he had expected. ‘Be careful what you wish for, I don’t want to know what they decide to task me with next games night.’ Sixty smirked and opened the door of the taxi. ‘Maybe next time I will be there to decide myself.’ He winked at the Captain and entered the car, leaving Allen standing in front of the restaurant confused. But somehow intrigued, too.

#detroit become human #dbh #Allen60 #Captain Allen #RK800-60 #Sixty #Sixty walking up to the dude who dared Allen: Am I a joke to you?#The anon said Allen has fun I said Allen has to listen to traumatised android backstory #I can't write fluff without angst I guess #but they have fun too I think #Sixty listening to like 40 songs at the same time #Ahhh human music - I like it

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crystalninjaphoenix · 4 years

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And the Show Goes On

A Horror Septics Story

(I’ve been sitting on this for a while, but I finally managed to finish it. Let’s check back in on Stacy, John, and the boys, why don’t we? Surely nothing else could go wrong in their lives ;) )

—————

The road was a simple, narrow path, only two lanes. It cut through the trees of the deep forest, the branches above stretching to cover it like a canopy, the roots causing cracks in the asphalt. It was almost like the woods were trying to reclaim the narrow stretch of man-made land. The canopy caused an artificial twilight, and the car driving down the road had to turn its lights on to be able to see.

“I think we’re almost there,” Stacy said, peering through the windshield. It was hard to see far, what with the darkness caused by the trees and the weird fog hovering around the trunks. She glanced in the rear-view mirror to look at the backseat. “How’re we holding up, boys?”

Mathew made an OK sign with his hand, headphones on. Larkin was busy staring out the window, his coloring book discarded.

“Great, glad we’re doing tip-top,” Stacy commented.

John, sitting in the passenger seat beside her, chuckled. “Tip-top?” He asked.

“Yes, tip-top,” Stacy said, doubling down on the phrase. “We’re all hunky-dory.”

“God, you’re so American and cheesy,” John muttered, smiling a bit. He was leaning back against the seat, eye closed and deliberately not looking out at the trees.

“Hmm.” Stacy hummed, nodding. She fell into quiet thought for a bit. They’d come a long way from their small town in California. Two years ago, she would never have guessed that she’d end up halfway across the world, running away from some...supernatural evil. Or, well, two of them, technically.

“Oh!” Larkin pointed out the window. “Did you see that?”

“See what, Lark?” Stacy asked.

“There was a...a Cheshire cat out there,” Larkin said. “In the forest.”

John suddenly whipped around, looking over the seat. “Don’t look at it.”

“What? Why not?” Larkin asked.

“Just trust me on this one,” John said, voice lowering. “Okay?”

“What do you mean by a Cheshire cat, Lark?” Stacy asked cautiously.

“A smiling cat! Didn’t anyone else see it? Matt!” Larkin reached across and started pushing his brother. “Did you see the cat?”

“No, I didn’t see any cat,” Mathew muttered, adjusting his headphones and sinking further into the seat.

Stacy frowned, and considered saying something, but was distracted by light appearing at the end of the road. “Oh, I think that’s it!” she said, trying to sound excited.

The car passed out from the forest as if leaving a tunnel. Afternoon sunlight abruptly appeared. The road winded down a sloping hill, leading to a collection of buildings down below. The car passed a sign made of stone, reading Welcome to Foraois Hollow.

“Still the most uncreative name,” John muttered. “Foraois is literally ‘forest,’ how very original. I bet the English had something to do with it.”

“Do you speak...whatever language that is?” Mathew piped up.

“Irish, and yes,” John said. “Not fluently, but better than I used to.”

“People still speak Irish?” Mathew asked.

“Yeah, of course we do,” John said, laughing a bit. “Especially in the actual country we’re from.”

“You’re Irish?!” Stacy remarked with some surprise.

“Yeah. Can’t you tell?”

“I...can now.” She’d always sort of picked up that John had an accent, but hadn’t registered which accent it was. Until he brought it up.

John smiled sadly. “‘S okay. Not your fault.”

The rest of the drive into the small town was quiet. The buildings of Foraois Hollow wouldn’t have been out of place 200 years ago. Charming houses with peaked roofs and white walls lined the streets, until the streets eventually clustered together in what looked like the business quarter, around a paved town square. People were walking around, going about their day...though Stacy couldn’t help but notice that a lot of them stared at the car as it drove past. Perhaps that was because most people seemed to prefer walking here, but she got the feeling it was more than that.

Stacy pulled to the side of the road right next to the square. “Alright, break time,” she said. “Let’s stretch our legs while I look for a hotel. Or something.”

Larkin opened the car door and hopped out, looking around. “Cool!” He said. “Mom, can I go look around? Please?”

“Look around? Hmm…” Stacy gave the town square a once-over. There were a few booths selling food and trinkets. The people walking around seemed normal, but you could never be sure. “Alright. Just stay where I can see you, ok?”

“Okay!” And with that , Larkin ran off, running up to the nearest booth and getting on his tiptoes to inspect the wares.

Mathew climbed out of the car as well. “Huh.” He lowered his headphones. “This is, like...quaint.”

“Yes, it is,” Stacy said cheerfully. “I’ve never heard you use that word before. Did you read it somewhere?”

“Uh...yeah.” Mathew leaned against the car. “What? It fits.”

“It does. I’m not saying you’re wrong.” Stacy pulled out her phone and typed ‘hotels near me’ into her browser. She squinted. “Huh...no results? That’s odd.”

John pushed open the door and leaned out. “No hotels, huh? Yeah, I think I remember that.”

“So you’ve been here before,” Stacy clarified. She’d been suspecting that.

John nodded. “Stopped by,” he said vaguely.

Stacy dropped it there. It was clear from his tone that John didn’t want to talk about it. Instead, she turned her attention back to her search for hotels. The wifi connection was secure, so it wasn’t that the results weren’t loading, it was just that there were no hotels for miles. The closest one was appearing in the next town over, the town they’d left two hours ago. She tried changing the search to motels, but got the same results. “Why don’t they have any hotels? Isn’t that a bit of an oversight?”

“People don’t really stop by here often,” John said. “And I don’t know if they want people to stay.”

Stacy shivered a bit. “That sounds...ominous.”

“Oh it isn’t, really,” John said casually. “It’s for everyone’s good. You remember what I said on the way over here? About the forest?”

Stacy nodded. “After we finish driving through it, don’t go in there ever.”

“Exactly.” John looked away, turning his attention to watching the town square. “I think if people stay here, they might eventually be tempted to do that, so there are no hotels or anything to discourage long stays.”

“But...we’re supposed to be staying here,” Stacy said slowly. “To stay away from Jaq—that...thing.”

“Yeah, but we know better,” John said.

Stacy wasn’t so sure about that, and the sentiment didn’t make her feel better at all. “Still…” she said, slowly changing the subject. “Where are we going to stay? You’ve been here before, where did you stay?”

John blinked. “I...I live in a tent,” he reminded her.

“Ah. Right.”

“Hey Mom,” Mathew piped up. “Why don’t we just ask someone if there’s a place we can stay?”

“Ah. Yes, good idea, Mat,” Stacy said, nodding. There were a whole bunch of locals in the square, surely one of them would have an answer. She straightened, looking around to see who was most approachable. But her eyes landed on someone else. “Oh? It looks like Larkin’s already making friends.”

Larkin had moved on from the booth he was originally interested in, and was now running circles around a different booth, chasing a boy who looked about his age. The two of them stopped and switched direction a couple times, like they were reenacting one of those comedic movie scenes where people tried to duck around a central item only to find their opponent blocking them. Chuckling to herself, Stacy walked over. “Hey Lark. Having fun?”

“Hi Mom!” Larkin stopped the chase. “This is Nick!”

The other boy, shorter than Larkin and with dark curls, grinned and waved at Stacy. “Howya, Lark’s mam?”

“I’m doing very good. It’s nice to meet you, Nick,” Stacy said cheerfully.

“Nice t’meet you too!” Nick said. “How long are you gonna be passin’ through?”

“Yeah, Mom!” Larkin added.

“Oh. Well, we’re actually going to be staying for...a while,” Stacy explained. “But we don’t really have anywhere to stay.”

Nick’s eyes widened. “Oh oh oh! You should stay with me! Then me and Lark can play all the time!”

Larkin gasped. “Mom, please? Pleeeaase?”

Stacy smiled, but it contained a hint of sadness. It had been a while since Larkin had so easily hit it off with a kid his age. “Well, I think Nick will have to ask his parents—”

“I can do that!” Nick squealed. He ran over to a nearby booth, selling bundles of yarn and what looked like other sewing or knitting supplies. The booth was being manned by a woman about Stacy’s age, with the same dark curls as Nick. “Mammy! Mammy! Maaaam!” Nick yelled, jumping up and down right by the woman.

“Hmm? What is it, pancake?” The woman asked, looking down and blinking slowly.

“Mammy, this is Larkin Allen and his mam!” Nick said, pointing back at Stacy and Larkin. “They’re gonna be stayin’ for a while. Can they stay with us, Mam? Please?”

The woman looked over at Stacy, giving her a quick once-over. Stacy waved. “Why’re you stayin’ in town, can I ask?” the woman asked in a flat tone.

“Oh! Uhhh…” Stacy tried not to squirm at the awkwardness that question raised. She wasn’t sure how much to say about the weird supernatural stuff that was following them, even if there was apparently weird supernatural stuff in the nearby woods. “My friend suggested it,” she finally decided on, pointing back towards her parked van where John and Mathew were having a chat. “He said this would be a...safe...place,” she said slowly.

“Mm-hmm.” The woman rubbed her eyes. “I see. Well, I s’pose that’s subjective, but if you insist. I’m Colleen. Colleen Iontach. And you are? And your friend?”

“Um, Stacy. Stacy Allen. My friend’s name is...John,” she settled on. “He’s over there with my other son Mathew.”

“Alright, Stacy. If you’re wantin’ t’stay, I’m not gonna stop you.” Colleen shrugged. “And might as well house ye for as long as that is.”

Nick and Larkin gave out a loud cheer, and immediately began buzzing with chatter.

“Oh. Thank you so much,” Stacy said. “Really. I tried to look up hotels, but—”

“There aren’t any nearby, yeah,” Colleen finished. She took a spiral notebook and pencil out of her pocket, scribbling something down and tearing off the page. “This is my address. Head down that street over there to get it. If Nick wants, you mind givin’ him a ride home?”

“Oh, no problem,” Stacy agreed, taking the paper. “Kids? Did you hear that?”

“Yeah, I’d love t’drive home with you!” Nick shouted. “I can tell you if you’re goin’ the wrong way!”

“Alright, let’s go then!” Stacy laughed.

Heading back to the car, Larkin and Nick rushed ahead, with Larkin introducing his new friend and his brother to each other. Stacy went more slowly, taking a moment to read the address.

“So I guess you found a place, then, huh?” John asked.

“Yep.” Stacy folded the paper and put it in her pocket. “We’re heading there now.”

“Great.” John watched the three kids interacting. He frowned. “I think I know...nevermind.”

“Hmm? Sorry, didn’t catch that,” Stacy said.

John shook his head. “Nevermind, just thought this kid looks familiar, but, you know, can’t be sure.”

“Huh. Well, isn’t it a possibility, if you’ve been here before?” Stacy prompted. “Maybe ask him if you’ve met.”

“Can’t,” John said shortly.

“...okay, then. Let’s, uh, go.” Stacy rounded around the car to the driver’s side, hopping inside. John just got stranger and stranger the longer she knew him. But there was a sadness that hovered around him, a sort of...grief, almost. So she wouldn’t be pushing it further or blaming him for sometimes seeming a bit odd.

* * * * * * * * * *

There was nothing extraordinary about the address Colleen had given her. It was a house just like all the others on the street, the only difference between it and them being a smudged chalk drawing on the sidewalk in front. Stacy guessed that was Nick’s work, probably done a day or two earlier.

As soon as the van pulled to a stop, Nick hopped out—a little before the car had completely stopped rolling, in fact. “C’mon, c’mon!” he shouted. “I’ll introduce you to Grandmam!” And without another word, he ran inside.

“Hey, wait up!” Larkin jumped out of the car as well and followed him.

Mathew stared out the car window. “So we’re really gonna stay with these people?” His tone was less than enthusiastic.

Stacy sighed. “Yes, Mat. For now, at least. Why? Is something wrong?”

Mathew shrugged. “No.” He climbed out of the van before Stacy could say anything else.

“...huh.” Stacy stared after him, biting her lip. He’d been pretty quiet on the drive here. Though she supposed there was a reason for that. After all, the last thing they’d seen right before leaving was a monster coming after them. That would be enough to freak anyone else. Larkin seemed fine, but maybe he was just repressing it...

“You okay?” John asked.

Stacy jumped, and tried to smile. “Yeah, I’m fine, just...thinking about the kids.”

“They’re good kids,” John said. He paused, and in a softer voice, added, “They’ll be alright.”

She didn’t respond, silently climbing out of the car and walking towards the house’s front door. After a moment, she heard the van door open and slam close as John followed her.

The inside of the house was as quaint as the outside. Wooden floors and walls papered in a design that looked fairly old. The furniture also looked old, not in that it was run down, but in that the style could’ve been taken out of the 1930’s. There was a huge fireplace, with a rocking chair nearby that Mathew had settled into, once again pulling his headphones on. A wide doorway led to a hallway, through which another arch showed the kitchen, and Nick and Larkin inside talking to someone.

“—and his mam—” Nick glanced over, catching sight of Stacy. “Oh! She’s right here!” He waved. “Hi Ms. Allen! Come meet Grandmam!”

Stacy wandered over and entered the kitchen. Nick was tugging on the skirt of a tall older woman, who had her gray hair pulled up in a bun. The old woman was standing at the kitchen counter, chopping carrots and other vegetables with a large knife. She stopped and looked up once Stacy entered the room. “Um, hello,” Stacy said, waving. “I hope you don’t mind us staying. I’m Stacy, this is Larkin—”

“Hi!” Larkin said.

“My other son, Mathew, is in the front room.” Stacy turned around to point behind her, and saw John standing in the doorway, staring at the old woman with wide eyes. “Oh. And, uh, this is my friend John.”

“Well nice t’meet ye,” the old woman said. “Don’ worry about stayin’ it’s no trouble. We often play inn to people passin’ by. The name’s Roisin Iontach. I see you’ve all met Nicolas, and must’ve met my daughter Colleen.” Roisin smiled warmly, then looked away from Stacy and over at John. She nodded. “Nice t’see ye again.”

John started, and made a strangled choking sound. “You...remember me?” His tone was shocked, but contained a strange hopeful note.

“Can’ remember your name, and I can’ recall your face,” Roisin said idly. “It took me a while to recognize the Evil Eye around ye, and then it came runnin’ back t’me.”

John stared at her, absolutely stunned. Stacy, confused, glanced in between the two of them. “Um...so you two know each other?” she asked, trying to keep up a pleasant tone.

Roisin returned to chopping vegetables. “I suppose we do. Now why don’t you all get your things set up in the guest bedroom? It shoul’ be large enough for all o’you.”

“Oh! Oh! I can show them!” Nick said, grabbing Larkin by the hand and running out. He grabbed Stacy’s hand as well as he passed. “C’mon!”

“Ah! Alright, alright, slow down!” Stacy found herself being pulled down a hallway towards a set of stairs. She glanced back behind her to see John still standing there, frozen, staring at Roisin with a strange expression that she thought might be awe.

* * * * * * * * * *

Things settled into a routine fairly quickly. Stacy and the kids stayed in the guest bedroom of the Iontach house, while John returned to his tent, which he’d set up on a small patch of grass behind the house that wasn’t big enough to be called a yard. The Iontach family seemed friendly, but Stacy was still a bit wary. Of course Larkin seemed happy to hang out with Nick. The two of them made an energetic pair, running around the house and nearby area while Nick showed Larkin everything. Colleen didn’t seem to be home often. She was either at work or running that booth in the town square, which apparently served as an additional source of income. As far as Stacy could tell, Colleen was the only parent in the house; there wasn’t a Mr. Iontach anywhere to be seen.

Roisin sometimes seemed a bit...odd. In a way that couldn’t be explained by age. Stacy couldn’t forget that small interaction the older woman had with John. She kept trying to find the time, or the nerve, to ask Roisin what that was about, what she meant by the Evil Eye. But every time, her anxiety got the better of her. She tried asking John about it, but of course, he refused to say anything.

And besides, Stacy thought there might be something else she had to devote her attention to. Mathew had been quiet ever since arriving in town a few days ago. Very quiet. All he seemed to do was mope around in the guest bedroom listening to music. True, he did that before, but not nearly as often. She was starting to get concerned.

About four days after they’d settled in to stay with the Iontachs, Stacy headed up to the guest bedroom, finding the door closed. She knocked on the solid wood gently. “Hello? Anyone there?” There was no answer, but she knew Mathew was inside, so she pushed open the door and peered inside.

Mathew was lying on the queen-sized bed he’d been sharing with Larkin recently, staring at the ceiling. He was wearing his headphones, but Stacy knew he could still hear her.

She quietly walked in, stopping next to the bed. “Mind if I sit here, Mat?” She waited for Mathew to shrug in response before sitting down on the edge of the bed. The room was quiet for a bit. “Do you want to talk about anything?” she finally asked gently.

Mathew exhaled slowly. He blinked. “Mom,” he finally said. “Are we fucked?”

Stacy made a strangled choking noise. “M-Mathew, I’ve told you, that word isn’t allowed until you’re fifteen. But, um, anyway. What do you mean by that?”

He sighed, and reached up to rub his eyes. “I mean...there was that ghost...thing...in the first house we moved to. That made us move again. Then there was that thing pretending to be your friend. That made us move here. Are we just...just going to have...things...coming after us forever?” His voice went very quiet on that last question.

“Oh, honey,” Stacy said. “No, don’t worry. We’re going to be safe here.”

“But there’s something in the woods,” Mathew whispered, finally looking over at her. “Larkin saw it on our drive here. And John knows about it. And I think everyone here knows about it.”

“Well…” Stacy hesitated. “It’ll be fine as long as we don’t go in the forest, yeah? I think it’s stuck there.”

Mathew sighed again, and looked away.

“...Look.” Stacy scooted closer. “I know, this whole thing is...scary. It’s very scary. And honestly, it still feels kind of unreal. But we’re going to be alright, okay?”

“You don’t know that,” Mathew muttered.

“You’re right, I don’t.” She inched closer still. “But I do know that we’re one smart, brave family. We’ve been through a lot so far, and we can weather through more.” She gave him a small smile. “We’re gonna be okay. And I’ll make sure you and Larkin are safe, no matter what. I promise.”

A pause. Then: “Thanks, Mom,” Mathew said quietly. He was blinking furiously, eyes welling up.

“Is there anything I can do for you now? A snack or anything?”

“Nah, just tell me when dinner’s ready.”

“Will do, Mr. Mattykins.”

Mathew laughed a bit. “Mom, I’m not five.”

“I know, I know,” Stacy relented, grinning. “I just had to. I’ll see you later, okay?” She stood up, and headed out, leaving the door open. Mathew didn’t ask for her to close it.

* * * * * * * * * *

The next day, Colleen approached her while she was sitting in the living room, reading a book she’d picked up from a local shop. “Hey Stacy?” she asked. “I hate t’do this, but can you watch the yarn booth today? I just got called in for a shift.”

“Hmm? Oh. Um, sure.” Stacy slid a bookmark in between the pages. “Um, where do you work, by the way?”

“Hospital,” Colleen said absentmindedly. “Simon used t’work there, too.”

“Oh. Your...husband?” Stacy asked carefully.

“Yeah. He’s not with us anymore.”

“Yeah…” Stacy looked down. “My husband isn’t, either.”

“I figured.” Colleen’s tone was very dull, as it usually was. “How’d it happen?”

Stacy squeezed her fingers into fists. “Car crash. Drowsy driving.” Even though it was almost two years ago, she felt a lump in her throat. “Um...what about Simon?”

Colleen looked her dead in the eye. “He went into the woods a month before.” She fell quiet. Stacy shifted uneasily in her seat. “He was from out o’town. Like you guys. Anyway, the booth is pretty simple. Here’re all the things ye need.” She pointed to a couple canvas bags on the ground. “Set it up. Casheirin’ should be easy. Good luck.” And she disappeared out the front door.

“Oh. Uh...okay,” Stacy said, hurriedly standing up.

The booth was pretty simple to run. If a customer stopped by, be friendly. If they asked her who she was, she explained that she was new and staying with the Iontachs. Things proceeded quickly from there, and she closed up around seven, gathering up everything unsold and replacing it in the bags to drive back to the house.

Just as she was finishing packing up, she felt a chill run along the back of her neck. Immediately, she stopped, and looked around. The town square was pretty empty. And of the few people here, none of them were looking at her. But she could see, from a distance, a view of the forest, visible due to it being up on higher ground. Squinting at the forest, she took out her phone and opened up the camera, using it to zoom in on the trees. It was still hard to see anything, so far away. But...for a moment, maybe something moved. Maybe. She couldn’t be sure.

Shivering, she quickly headed back.

* * * * * * * * * *

Seven o’clock was already quite dark at this time of year. When she arrived back at the house, parking on the street and heading in, the entire street was bathed in shadows. Stacy hurried inside.

Roisin was sitting in the rocking chair, knitting and generally being the perfect image of a kindly old grandmother. She looked up when Stacy entered, and smiled. “Ah. Welcome back, Ms. Allen. How was the booth?”

“Um, good.” Stacy set the bags down, and was about to head up to the guest bedroom to look for the kids, but she hesitated and turned back. “Hey, um, Roisin. I have a question.”

“Hmm? Ask away, then.”

“So, this morning, Colleen said her husband, Simon, was from out of town,” Stacy said slowly. “And also, I think you said she was your daughter? But I was wondering about your last name, then. You’re all Iontachs, but how’s that possible? Did Colleen go back to her maiden name after her husband...passed?”

“Oh no, Simon took our name,” Roisin said cheerfully.

Stacy blinked. “Ah. So...is that a tradition here? Taking the wife’s last name?”

“No, not exactly,” Roisin continued, pausing in her knitting and focusing on Stacy. “The Iontach name is a powerful one, Ms. Allen. It is old, great, and magnificent. We’re descended from the magicians who settled this valley long, long ago. The only ones left who’re descended from them. So we know t’carry the name on. In marryin’, not takin’ the Iontach name is a, oh, how’s it said...a dealbreaker.”

“Oh. There are...magicians,” Stacy said slowly.

Roisin looked back at her knitting, needles clacking. “Well, perhaps not how ye think. Not like the wizards in fantasy, more like the witches that still exist today. Ye heard of Wicca?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Exactly. Same sort o’practices.”

“Oh.” Stacy hovered awkwardly for a moment. “So...would being descended from witches or whatever be part of the reason why you, uh...made that comment about an Evil Eye to John on our first day here?”

“That poor young man,” Roisin said, shaking her head. “Anyone wit’ the proper gift can tell just by lookin’ at him, yes?”

“Uh...I guess?” Stacy laughed nervously. “I mean, I have no idea what you’re talking about—”

“You don’?!” Roisin dropped her knitting and stared at Stacy in utter shock. “Oh jesus, I thought you knew. Your son, the one friends with Nick—I s’pose he gets his sight from his father, then.”

“Wait, what did you say?” That phrase was somehow...familiar. Hadn’t she heard someone say that recently?

“Those of us who know the truth instinct’vely,” Roisin explained. “We can see past the lies and illusions the creatures of the world keep up. I assumed Larkin—nice, strong name, by the way—I assumed he got his sight from you. After all, you are runnin’ here to stay away from one o’them, aren’ you?” The old woman squinted, giving Stacy a once-over. “Yes, ye’ve been marked, same as your friend. Well, not exactly the same. Yours is older, smelling of dust. An’ the hold on ye is quite a bit weaker. Quite a bit.”

“I—I—uh—I mean, yeah but—not—” Stacy stammered. All this new information was a bit much. Larkin could see these things? Her instinct was to balk at the notion, but then she remembered back in the house in Bronainise. Larkin had been the first one to see the thing in there, and had apparently been friendly with it...and he realized right away what Jaqueline was...but really? He got that from his father? “I mean...my husband was really just an average guy. A bit of a dork, but funny and energetic. He couldn’t have been involved in all...this.”

Roisin had begun knitting again. “Well, it’s not like he’d have told ye he coul’ see monsters, woul’ he? Or maybe he didn’ know, himself.” She shrugged. “Anyway, it’s not like it’s of any matter in the end. You’ve been marked all the same, an’ now you’re all here t’hide.”

“Okay, so, one last question,” Stacy hurried to say. “What...what do you mean by marked? Because that...doesn’t sound good.”

Roisin didn’t answer for a long while. She simply sat there, clacking her needles away. The silence went on for so long that Stacy sighed, and turned to leave. She was in the doorway when Roisin called out, “It means one o’them is int’rested in ye. For whatever end purpose. I’m sure you already know what yours is.”

Stacy hesitated in the doorway, then quickly left.

* * * * * * * * * *

She woke up in the middle of the night, gasping for air, a cold sweat covering her. Was there a pressure on her chest? Had the last few months been a dream? Was she back in that house? Her eyes were closed tight, but she had to know. She had to be sure. Dread poured into her stomach as she cracked open her eyelids—

There was no thing there. No thing staring at her from the foot of the small bed she was sleeping in. No thing lurking in the corner of the Iontachs’ guest bedroom. She let out an audible sigh of relief.

It was fine. There were no whispers hovering in between awake and asleep. In fact, there was no sound at all. The room was very quiet. Honestly, it was a bit odd. Usually Mathew snored a bit. Stacy rolled over to look at the larger bed on the other side of the room where the boys appeared to be fast asleep. Appeared to be. They could always be pretending. In which case, she’d better let them get back to sleep.

She started to roll back over, but paused. A weird something had glinted in the corner of her vision. Her eyes darted around the room, now on high alert as her heartbeat rose. Ah, there it was. A small bit of spider thread in the corner of the window, reflecting the moonlight outside, just visible through a gap in the curtains. See? It was fine. No need to worry.

Stacy closed her eyes and firmly told herself to go back to sleep. Even if dreamland wasn’t so appealing, she needed the rest.

The curtains fluttered in a silent wind.

* * * * * * * * * *

It rained a couple days later. It drizzled all through the cold morning, keeping everyone inside. Roisin showed Stacy how to make “real hot chocolate” (in her own words) on the stove for the three boys stuck in the house. Colleen still went to work; it seemed she was absent most days, leaving the house wearing blue scrubs and returning late at night. Larkin and Nick took a few old board games out of the closet, and managed to convince Mathew to join them.

The rain slowed into occasional droplets sometime in the afternoon, and Stacy grabbed her coat and headed out to the small patch of grass out back where John had pitched his tent. She hadn’t been seeing much of him lately, and she was a bit worried.

She hit on the side of the tent like she was knocking on a door, droplets of water getting her hands wet. Inside, John cried out. Movement rustled, and the tent entrance unzipped. “Can you please, please not do that?” John asked, sticking his head out.

“Sorry,” Stacy said, taking a step back. “Just wanted to, uh, see what was up with you. With the rain and everything, maybe it got wet out here.”

John shrugged. “I’ve been in worse weather. And with worse shelter than a tent, too.”

“Are you sure?” Stacy prodded. “Because you can come in the house, you know.” She hesitated. “I mean, unless you don’t like them or something. I’m not gonna make you.”

“They’re fine,” John said, rolling his eye.

“I mean, I just—Roisin knows you, so you’ve clearly met them before, I wouldn’t want to drag up old wounds or anything.”

“Stace, if you want to ask me what the deal is between me and the old lady, just ask, you don’t have to dodge around the subject.”

“...uhhh,” Stacy felt her face grow red with embarrassment. “So...you’ve been in this town before.”

“Foraois Hollow, yeah.” John scooted up close to the tent entrance and crossed his legs. “How do you think I knew it would be a safe place to hide from the thing in the red hood?”

“And there’s that, too,” Stacy added. “Don’t get me wrong, I am really glad we haven’t seen...that...in the week and a half we’ve been here. But why?” She glanced through the rainy skies, and pointed at the trees of the forest, up on the hills. The fog still lingered around their trunks. “Because of that? Is the forest, like, alive or something?”

“Or something,” John said casually. “Look, just understand that it’s really territorial, but it doesn’t come into town, so you’re good.”

“I—okay.” Stacy decided to drop it there for now. There was time to talk about that later. “Did you, uh, stay with these guys the first time you passed through, too? Or did you just know Roisin? Actually it’s probably that, otherwise Nick or Colleen would’ve said something—”

“No, I knew them,” John said. He was looking down at his lap, fingers picking at a hole in the knee of his jeans. “Didn’t know any of them really well, but they were nice enough to let me stay a few nights. Couldn’t stay long, cause this was before—” He suddenly stopped. “I-I wasn’t expecting any of them to recognize me. The fact that Roisin did is a miracle.”

“She said you were marked by this Evil Eye thing,” Stacy said, prodding gently. “That she remembered that. Apparently she has some sort of weird sight. Maybe the others do, too, but maybe they’re not as practiced at it?” It was a flimsy reason for why the other two Iontachs couldn’t remember John, but it was all she could come up with.

“She said that before, too,” John muttered, pulling a thread loose.

“Uh-huh.” Stacy nodded. “Um...I talked to her a few days ago, and she said that…” She hesitated to say it, but forced it out. “That I was somehow...marked...too. A-and that meant that something was...interested in me.” John didn’t say anything, still looking down. “It—it’s gotta be that thing from the house, right? Jaqueline—or that thing, whatever, it said as much. I mean, that’s why we’re here, isn’t it? Is...is that why you came here, before? To get away from whatever...it was that...?” She trailed off, realizing she was basically thinking out loud and not expecting an answer.

To be fair, John didn’t really seem that ready to give her an answer either way. He hadn’t moved, still pulling at the loose thread. Looking closer, his hands were now shaking. John took a deep breath, and looked up at Stacy. “Look...there’s not much to say about it. I was...I was on the run, came across a tiny town, and...found something in the forest. Found there were more...of them. Out there.” His voice lowered, barely audible. “And even they don’t want anything to do with me.”

Stacy was quiet. “I’m...sorry, John.”

“My name is ìŗĆºŷĻ.”

“Uh...sorry, I couldn’t catch that.”

“Nevermind.” John’s voice was heavy and tired. He backed up into the tent. “Thanks for saying I could come in. But I’ll just...just stay out here. See you later.” And he zipped the entrance back up.

“Um...see you.” Stacy turned and walked away, footsteps splashing in a puddle that marked the boundary of the grass and the paved stones that covered the rest of the house's “backyard.” She looked around at the rain pattering on the ground. Or...actually, there was no pattering to be heard. No splashing, either. Stacy blinked, and reached up to clear her ears. Soon after she did, the normal sounds of the world returned. That was...odd. Very odd. Was her hearing going? If it was, it was probably the result of stress. Or...was it something else?

She spun in a circle, looking for anything weird. But everything looked the same. Nobody was out except for her, not even driving about. Nothing was moving within eyeshot. Still, she felt uneasy as she headed back inside the house.

On the house’s roof, a loose shingle fell to the ground as if disturbed, yet it made no sound as it crashed and broke.

* * * * * * * * * *

The rain stopped by nightfall, leaving slick puddles that reflected the yellow light from the street lanterns. It was about ten o’clock. And Stacy was starting to grow a bit...concerned.

In the time she and the boys had been staying with the Iontachs, Colleen had always been home by nine thirty on the days she worked. It was possible that she’d had to stay late. Didn’t nurses often have to do that? But something didn’t sit right with that.

Larkin and Nick had gone to sleep, Mathew was hanging out in the house’s office, and Roisin was in her bedroom, getting ready to go to bed as well. Stacy was alone in the living room, playing a mindless bubble game on her phone and glancing at the front window every so often. Look back at the phone. Then at the window. At the phone. Then the window. Phone. Window. Phone. Wind—

Stacy gasped, almost dropping her phone. Colleen was staring at her through the window. She waved. Stacy waved back. And Colleen disappeared, opening the front door. “Stacy?” she asked.

“Y-yeah.” Stacy tried to laugh. “You scared me, jeez.”

“Sorry.” Colleen smiled easily. “Didn’t mean to.” She paused. “Hey, this might sound a bit strange, but I think I’ve found something you need to see.”

“Um...yeah, it does sound a bit strange,” Stacy said slowly. “What is it?”

Colleen glanced over her shoulder. “Well, I think it has to do with why you’re here. What you’re running from. But I need you to see it to make sure.”

Stacy perked up, shoving her phone in her pocket. “Okay, but what is it?”

Colleen hissed through her teeth. “Difficult to explain. And that’s saying something, considering what I’ve seen. It’s...dusty. Strange in this rain, isn’t it? Smells odd, too.”

Dust. Stacy stiffened. “Hang on a second, I need to get something.” She stood up and quickly headed upstairs, sneaking into the guest bedroom and doing her best trying not to wake up Larkin, who should be fast asleep by this time. She opened the dresser drawer and pulled out her handgun and holster, putting it on. Glancing over at Larkin, she sneaked back out and headed down.

“A gun?” Colleen was standing in the exact same place as before. “Didn’t know you had one. Isn’t that a bit unsafe, with the children and all?”

“At this point, it’s less safe to have one than to not,” Stacy muttered, pulling on her coat. “Alright. Lead the way.”

Colleen smiled, a quick movement like someone was pulling on her face to make it. “Great. We’d better be careful, though, it’s a bit...odd. These things could be dangerous, but I’m sure you know that.” She turned and walked quickly out the door, Stacy hurrying to follow her.

“It’s some ways away,” Colleen said, briskly walking down the street. “Came across it on my walk home.”

“Okay. A-anything else?” Stacy asked, panting a bit. Colleen was really walking quick. She didn’t know she was that fast. “Like...what size is it?”

“Oh, about yea big,” Colleen pantomimed a box. “The size of a human head, I’d say.”

Stacy nodded, and fell silent as the two of them turned a street corner. She didn’t exactly appreciate that comparison; it made her imagine all sort of gruesome things this surprise could be.

“Just a block or two farther.” Colleen sped up more. Stacy broke into a light jog. How was Colleen simply walking this fast?

They rounded another corner, and Stacy immediately noticed something on the sidewalk, sitting in a circle of light caused by the street lanterns. “That’s a box,” she muttered. “It was difficult to explain that it was a box?”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Colleen said She’d stopped walking, and now looked reluctant to get closer.

Stacy took a deep breath, and walked up to the box. It was a cardboard cube, covered in the gray dust that had plagued the house in Bronainise. A sharp, alcoholic smell was coming from it. She reached out, and stopped. Instead she grabbed her gun and leaned forward, prodding the cardboard lid with the end of the barrel. Nothing seemed to happen, but she still didn’t touch it. Carefully, she used the gun to push the lid off the box, dust falling to the wet ground, but not sticking. She leaned forward and peered into the now open box. And frowned. “There’s...nothing inside.”

“Oh? How odd,” Colleen said from her spot at the edge of the light.

Standing up, Stacy looked around. There wasn’t anyone nearby. Or anything, really. And she couldn’t hear anything either. Which...actually, that was kind of strange. Her eyes locked on a tree in the distance, leaves blowing in the wind. And she could feel the same breeze against her face. But she couldn’t hear it. She turned her attention to Colleen, who was standing almost perfectly still. “Have you seen anything...weird around?” she asked slowly. “Besides the box.”

“Not a thing,” Colleen said, shaking her head. “Why? Anything in particular you’re concerned about?”

“Uh...not really.” She was just noticing it now, but Colleen was speaking a bit...differently. Was it just her, or had her accent faded? “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Colleen asked politely.

“I...exactly. I don’t hear anything.” Stacy paused. “Wait a second.” She tilted her head. There were faint strains of...was that music? Where was it coming from? She tightened her hold on the gun as she tried to find the source of it, turning around. She stopped turning once she realized it...was it coming from Colleen? Stacy froze.

Colleen tilted her head. “Is something wrong, Stacy?”

“Um...so, h-how’d you know that this box was related to me?” Stacy asked slowly.

“Oh, I had a feeling,” Colleen said dismissively. “Misery has this feel to it, you understand?”

Her heart skipped a beat. “What did you say?” she asked breathlessly.

“You heard me.”

Misery loves company. That was what the thing in the red hood had said. And there was something about the way it was said...and the way Colleen said it now...Stacy stepped back and squinted at Colleen. No, it was definitely her. Her appearance wasn’t fading, details turning to vague impressions of a face like Jaqueline’s had. But she wasn’t acting normal either. Standing too stiff. Stacy took another step back.

“You’re looking a bit nervous, Stacy,” Colleen took a step forward. “Maybe you should calm down. Take a break.”

Stacy started to raise her gun, but stopped halfway through. This still was Colleen, wasn’t it? She couldn’t shoot her.

As if she knew this, Colleen smiled. “No need to be harsh. After all, doesn’t she have a kid? A gunshot would put her ability to provide for him at risk.”

Stacy took a few more steps back, chills running down her spine as she managed to point the gun. But still, she couldn’t do it.

Something glinted in the street light. Stacy’s eyes darted towards it, looking for it again. She couldn’t quite grasp it, but it was hovering above Colleen. What was it? Her mind went to some sort of thread, but that was impossible. Except that...it certainly appeared to be some sort of string, rising up into the air, heading toward the street lantern above her head.

Another set of chills ran down her skin. With trepidation, she looked up.

Her eyes widened as she tried to scream, but no sound came out.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Iontachs didn’t have much in the way of computer tech. Mathew figured John would like that; he seemed to have a thing about that. But it meant that the only place Mathew could watch YouTube was on the clunky desktop in the office. He sat in the tall desk chair and kicked his feet, headphones plugged into the speakers as he looked for a new let’s play to watch.

The door opened, and Mathew jumped and spun around. Stacy was peeking into the room. “Uh, hi Mom,” he said.

“Hey Mathew,” she said cheerfully. “Do you know where your brother is?”

“Uh...isn’t he still in bed?” Larkin wasn’t really the type to try and stay up late. Though maybe that would change when he got older.

“Ohhh.” Stacy nodded. “That would make sense.” She backed up, then reappeared in the doorway. “While I go get him, do you mind going out to the car?”

Mathew slowly unplugged his headphones. “Um. Are we going somewhere?”

“Yes,” Stacy sighed. “I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to. You know why, yes?” She paused meaningfully. “Anyway, get ready and go on out. I’ll be there soon with your brother.” She backed up and disappeared for good.

Mathew slung his headphones around his neck and pushed the desk chair backwards. He grabbed his phone and charger from where it was plugged into the walk, checking to see if it was full. It was, so he put it and the cord into his hoodie pocket. He swiveled around, ready to stand up. And then he didn’t. His heart had sped up, stomach starting to squirm. What happened to cause this? Were those monsters back? He physically shuddered as an image of the thing in the red hood twisting its head into place flashed in his mind. If that was the case, they’d better hurry.

He went right out to the car, climbing into the back seat of the unlocked van. Staring out the window at the rainy street, his eyes wandered over to the alley that would lead around the back of the house. Was John going to come with them? He did the last two times. But then again, he wasn’t really involved with this, was he? Well, a little bit. He did save them from the thing in the last city. But the thing hadn’t been...after him. So maybe there was no reason for him to come with. Still, Mathew thought John was kind of cool...you know, for an adult.

The door opened again, and Stacy placed a sleeping Larkin, wearing pajamas borrowed from Nick, in the other seat. “There we are. Oh, we need the buckle, don’t we?” She slid the seatbelt across him.

“You didn’t wake him up?” Mathew asked.

“No no, let’s let him sleep.” Stacy closed the door and walked around to the driver’s seat, quickly climbing in and starting the car. “And here we go.”

The van rolled down the dark streets of the city, tracing the same route it had taken on the way into town two weeks ago. Mathew stared idly out the window as they passed beyond the town limits and up into the forest. Mist curled across the ground, forming strange shapes. He shifted uneasily. This place was freaky. Wasn’t fog supposed to disappear after rain? Maybe he was getting that wrong. In any case, this just felt weird. He glanced over at Larkin, still fast asleep. Quietly, he leaned over and shook his shoulder gently.

After a bit of this, Larkin stirred. He blinked open his eyes and looked around, obvious confusion causing his face to scrunch up. “Mat,” he whispered, leaning closer. “What’s goin’ on?”

“I don’t know,” Mathew whispered back. “Mom said that we had to leave and we all got in the car and drove away.”

“Aw.” Larkin’s face fell. “What happened?”

“Dunno.” Mathew shrugged. “Ask Mom.”

Larkin leaned around the seat of the car to look at Stacy in the driver’s seat. She didn’t look back at him, eyes fixed on the road. Larkin’s eyes widened a bit, and he scooted a bit closer to Mathew. “We should get out of the car,” he whispered.

“What? Why?” Mathew asked.

“Mom’s being...weird,” Larkin said, glancing back over at her.

“You’re weird,” Mathew muttered.

“No you.”

The two of them straightened. Mathew looked out the window again. Okay, if they wanted to get out of the car, then obviously they needed it to stop first. He got an idea. Doubling over, he groaned and clutched his stomach. “Mooom, I think I’m getting carsick.”

Stacy didn’t even look at him.

“Mom?” Mathew leaned forward. “Mom, I’m gonna throw up.”

Still no response. A sudden chill ran down Mathew’s spine. He looked over at Larkin in a silent plea for help. Larkin thought about it. Then he unbuckled his seat belt, stood up, and screamed right into Stacy’s ear. Yet she didn’t even flinch.

“Shit,” Mathew said under his breath.

“Don’t say that, it’s a bad word,” Larkin said automatically, then moved on. “What d’we do?”

Mathew glanced out the window again, then turned his attention to the door itself. It wasn’t locked...and Mathew knew that their van didn’t have a child lock...if it was necessary, he could technically...

Deciding it was necessary, Mathew undid his seatbelt, pushed the car door open, and jumped out.

Luckily, the car wasn’t going too fast. But he still fell hard, skin scraping on the cracked asphalt and bruising his bones on the ground as he tumbled for a good while. Eventually he lost momentum, staring up at the branches overhead and trying to get his breath. “Owww…” he groaned. Well, he would never be doing that again.

He sat up, and looked down the road, seeing the red tail lights of the car even through the mist. Those lights were moving farther away, but then they stopped. The car started to back up, but then one of the doors opened and Larkin darted out, running farther into the forest. The car braked suddenly, and Stacy jumped out. “Get back here!” she shrieked, running after Larkin. Mathew watched this happen, feeling a bit disconnected to the situation. It was like something from a movie, or a cutscene from a game. Not quite real.

And then he saw a shadow move. His eyes naturally glanced toward it—up toward it. He let out a soft gasp as he realized the shadow was on top of the car. Had it been there the whole time?!

The shadow stopped, and he had the sudden feeling it was looking at him. Mathew scrambled to his feet and ran, heading deeper into the woods.

Dark trees passed by him, almost indistinguishable from the shadows coating the forest floor. Mathew tripped over roots and undergrowth that was invisible beneath the white mist. Branches caught on his hoodie, but he kept running, heart pounding. What was happening?! What was wrong with his mom?! What was up with that shadow?

After a while, he realized he had no idea where he was, and he slowed to a stop. Panting, he tried to look for anything distinguishable, but everything was darkness and trees and mist. His mind immediately went to wolves and bears in the woods. He’d have no idea they were coming. And then he remembered that shadow, and the things he’d heard in town about the forest, and his stomach started to sink. What was he doing out here? What was he thinking?

And then the image of Larkin running in the other direction returned to him, and he felt a sudden blast of cold fear seep into his bones. He’d left Larkin in these woods. Alone, with who knows what else here. Immediately, he turned around, pivoting on his feet to try and keep track of where he was, and headed back. Eventually he’d reach the road, right?

No, apparently not.

He’d been stumbling in the dark, trying to keep a straight line for what felt like twenty minutes, and he finally had to conclude that he was lost. Frustrated, he punched the nearest tree, then cried out. This was the worst. It was an actual nightmare. He hurt all over from jumping out of the car, he was lost in a strange forest, his mom was acting weird and scary, and Larkin was somewhere out there alone. Tears started to choke his throat. He wiped his eyes.

“Are you lost?”

Mathew cried out, flailing for a moment before pressing his back to the tree he’d punched. He looked around, eyes straining to see anything. The only thing that was really visible in the pitch-black forest was the fog...which was actually a little strange. His vision traced the patterns in the mist, watching it swirl. It seemed to be swirling around a particular spot. No...there was something there that it was spinning around.

“You look a little lost.”

Mathew jumped again. The voice was coming from the thing in the middle of the swirling mist. He looked up, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness. If he had to guess, it looked like a person. It was vaguely shaped that way, at least. “Um...maybe?” he said, voice small.

“You’re just a child. What are you doing in the woods?” The person-shaped shadow walked closer, looking like it was gliding across the ground.

“Uh...I’m...my mom...” Mathew tilted his head back to look at the shadow’s face. That head wasn’t exactly person-shaped. It looked more like an animal...but it might’ve been a mask. “She, uh...drove us out here, and, uh...”

“‘Us’?” The shadow prompted.

“My brother and me,” Mathew said. Was it weird that he wasn’t freaking out? He was a bit on edge, but shouldn’t he be panicking more? “He...ran the other way, I’m—”

“You’re looking for your brother.” The shadow flashed a smile. No, it had been smiling the whole time. “I can help you find him, if you’d like.”

Mathew hesitated. Little alarm bells were going off in his head, and he could practically hear his mom and dad’s voices reminding him to never go anywhere with a stranger. “I don’t need help. But, uh, if you were to say where he is out loud, I, um...wouldn’t stop you.”

“Hmm?” The shadow tilted its head. “I think you do need help.”

“No, I-I’m fine,” Mathew said, voice cracking. He started to edge around the tree. “I’m going to, uh, go now.” And he pushed away, quickly walking in the other direction. The hairs on the back of his neck told him the shadow was following him.

“It’s very dark out, isn’t it?” The mist was swirling faster, rising from around Mathew’s knees to around his hips.

“Uh...yeah,” Mathew said.

“And you’re going in the wrong direction. Your brother went north.”

Mathew stopped walking. “How do you know that?”

Something grabbed the back of his hoodie and started pulling. “We should head this way.”

“H-hey!” Mathew squirmed, reaching back to try and loosen the grip. But his hands felt nothing but the mist. “Let go!”

“Why?”

“I don’t—I don’t want to be pulled!”

“You want to find your brother, though.”

“Yes, but don’t—I’ll just follow you, okay? Let go!”

“Sounds perfect.” The thing let go of him, and he whirled around to see it standing very close, looking down at him and grinning. The mist was barely moving now, dropping down to hover around his knees. “Come on. This way.” The person-shaped thing turned and headed to the left, leaving the mist agitated in its wake. Mathew hesitated. He took a single step in the other direction, but the mist rose into the air, tendrils reaching out. It felt like it shoved him away. Mathew gasped gently, then hurried to follow the thing. Clearly there wasn’t much of an option here.

The forest was oddly quiet. He could hear his footsteps, rustling the undergrowth. But nothing else. And he couldn’t see anything either. “Um...is there any way there could be...light?” he asked tentatively. Maybe asking the strange forest creature questions was a bad idea, but he was tired of stumbling around.

“You tend to carry lights in your pockets now.” Luckily, the thing didn’t seem to mind.

“What? Oh.” Mathew reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out his phone, switching on the flashlight. A circle of white light lit up the forest, bouncing off the mist. He scanned the nearby surroundings, and—

“Aaak!” He jumped back, fumbling to keep hold of his phone. Once it was securely in his grasp, he pressed a hand to his chest to try and calm down. “Mom?!”

Stacy looked a bit of a mess, a few stray leaves in her hair and dirt on her coat like she’d fallen down. And there seemed to be the faint sound of...music coming from nearby. Staticky, tinny music, like it was on an old record. Instead of acknowledging her son at all, she looked at the shadow with wide eyes. “I’ve lost the smaller one.”

“Really?” Though the thing didn’t stop grinning, it sounded a bit disappointed.

“She isn’t fast!” Stacy protested. “Or at least not faster than the smaller one!”

“You should’ve dropped her and grabbed him yourself.”

“What’s done is done,” Stacy said dismissively. “Where did he go?”

“This way,” the shadow said, a bit smugly.

“What’s going on?!” Mathew asked, voice rising. He tried to point the flashlight beam at the shadow, but barely caught the edge of something—fabric or fur or more mist, he couldn’t tell—before it started off in another direction. “Mom? What’s happening? Where’s Larkin?”

Stacy didn’t answer him, following after the shadow. Mathew stared after her. Tears started to well in his eyes, and he blinked them away. This was not his mom. But he still followed after her, hoping that if they found Larkin, he’d be able to...he didn’t know exactly what. Do something.

They walked for a few minutes more. Mathew kept scanning the forest with his flashlight, lighting up the mist around them. The strange music seemed to now be coming from all around, a bit louder now. Until suddenly, the shadow stopped.

“What’s wrong?” Stacy asked.

“I was too focused on the boy,” the shadow said, its voice low. “I didn’t notice it.”

“Notice what?” Stacy said impatiently.

“Uh, it’s probably talking about me,” a familiar voice said. Mathew gasped, and spun around. His flashlight beam landed on two figures, one taller and one small. “Oh jesus, be careful with that,” John said, blinking in the sudden light. “You could blind someone.”

“John? What’re you doing here?” Mathew asked. He tilted his light down a bit, now looking at the smaller figure standing half-behind the man. “Hey, Lark.”

“Hi Mat,” Larkin said, waving a bit. He glanced at Stacy and the person-shaped shadow, and shrank back a bit.

“You shouldn’t be here,” the shadow hissed.

“Yet here I am,” John said casually. “Anyway, Mathew, I’m here because I noticed your mom leaving for some reason. Then coming back and grabbing you two, without saying anything to anyone. Not like her, y’know? Then I noticed the reason for such out-of-character behavior.” He glanced over at Stacy, then moved his attention upwards, into the branches of the trees above her. “You shouldn’t be here either. Isn’t Forest Guardian here supposed to be, like, super territorial?”

“There are exceptions to every rule,” Stacy said plainly.

“Get out,” the shadow snarled, still glaring at John.

“Fucking make me, why don’t you?!” John snapped. “Go ahead. Throw me out of here with your freaky fog.” He waved at the nearby mist, which twisted out of the way. It was like it didn’t want to touch him. No, it definitely didn’t want to touch him. There was a small circle of clear area around him, free of mist. Larkin was standing barely inside the clearing, holding onto John’s jacket like it was a lifeline. “No, you can’t. Cause you’re afraid. That’s the one fucking perk I get with this, and you can bet your ass I’m gonna use it. If you have one.” He laughed, then looked back over at Mathew. “Are you alright?” He asked, voice softer.

“Uh...yeah,” Mathew said. “Just...confused. And freaked out.”

“You jumped out of a car,” Larkin reminded him.

“I mean, yeah, but I got better—”

Stacy growled, and lunged forward, grabbing Mathew by the arm. He yelped, and tried to push her away, but her grip was iron. “We can just get the two of them, right?” she said in a suddenly raspy voice.

“It wants all three,” the shadow said.

“Can’t we grab the smaller one after dropping off these two?”

“Oh my god, this is still to do with the thing in the house, isn’t it?!” John kicked the ground. “Jesus! How far is it gonna follow her? Is it even really worth it at that point?”

“Oh, you would know, wouldn’t you?” the shadow drawled.

“Let go!” Mathew screeched, now slapping Stacy’s arm with his free hand. He tried kicking her shin, but Stacy might as well have been a statue. “Mom! What’s wrong with you?! You’re—you’re scaring me!”

Stacy blinked. Something in her eyes seemed to flicker, and her grip loosened. Just a bit, but Mathew managed to pull away, falling onto the ground. He was already running before he even got to his feet, and soon was standing next to Larkin and John. Larkin immediately switched to clinging to him.

“What was that?!” The shadow hissed, now looking into the branches above Stacy’s head.

“Some strong emotion,” Stacy said in a strangled voice. She was shaking slightly. The still-playing music was slower, a bit distorted. “I have it under control now.”

John stepped out in front of the two younger boys. “No, no, we’re not doing this. You don’t have anyone under control. You’re going to let her go and they’re going to leave here all fine and happy.”

“Or what?” The shadow asked. The mist rose, reaching Larkin’s shoulders and Mathew’s waist. It spun in hypnotizing, agitated patterns. The music distorted further, now sounding hellish.

John hesitated, and said nothing. Mathew looked between him and Stacy. There had to be something they could do about this. Why was his mom acting like this? And why was everyone talking to the tree branches? Was there something up there? Curious, Mathew raised his phone, pointing the flashlight into the branches above Stacy’s head. “Holy shit!” He gasped, nearly dropping the phone.

It looked like a person. Sort of. More like something made to look like a person. With strings dangling from limbs and spirals where eyes should be. It was crouched in the tree branches, and as the light shined on it, it scurried over to another tree, the strings tangling and untangling. Stacy walked with it, always standing beneath it.

John’s eyes widened, and he turned to the boys, pulling them close. “Okay, I got an idea,” he whispered. “But you two need to run when I say to, alright? Go straight that way, eventually you’ll hit the road. And watch out for the mist, okay?”

Larkin nodded, but Mathew just gaped. “What?”

“Just do it, okay?” John hissed, turning around to face the shadow and Stacy. “Okay, so you’re hiding in the trees like a coward. Good to know.”

“Who said I was hiding?” Stacy hissed.

“Oh yeah, also you’re using someone else’s voice. Real brave there.”

The shadow snarled. “Not all of us are capable of the same feats, ĸø¹ŭ§. And not everything is as lucky as you are.”

“Yes, I’m very lucky,” John said darkly. “Which is why—run!”

Larkin caught on immediately, grabbing Mathew, still a bit confused, by the hand and running in the direction John had pointed earlier. Behind them they heard an animalistic scream, and the music rose in volume and speed. Mathew glanced over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of John starting to climb a tree. Then he saw the shadow looking after them and he faced front again, picking up the pace.

Around them, the mist rose and thickened, covering both their heads. Breathing became difficult, like trying to breathe with your face buried in a pillow. They tripped over unseen obstacles on the forest floor, tree trunks coming out of nowhere to block their progress. Mathew gripped Larkin’s hand tight. They were still going straight, weren’t they? It was hard to tell. It felt like something was grabbing them—like there were hands in the mist, made of the mist, snatching at their clothes and yanking them off course. But the music was growing quieter, more distant. So they had to be making progress.

Suddenly, Mathew felt the forest floor beneath his feet turn to hard asphalt. The grip of the mist lessened, becoming a little less thick, though tendrils still wrapped around them to pull them back.

“Okay, the car has to be here somewhere, right?” Mathew panted.

“Look!” Larkin pointed to their right. Two yellowish lights were barely visible through the fog.

“Great, let’s go.” The two of them stumbled through the mist until the front of the van was visible. Mathew put his phone back in his pocket and put his hand on the car, walking around the side. “Here we are, front seat,” he muttered, pulling open the door to the passenger’s seat. “In you go.”

“Larkins first,” Larkin said cheerfully.

“It’s ‘ladies first,’ actually. I didn’t know you were a lady.”

“I could be. I’d be a very pretty lady.” Larkin hopped into the car and climbed over the seat into the back. “You wouldn’t be. You’d be too sad and weird.”

“Well you’d be too tiny and weird,” Mathew started climbing in as well. “Though I guess—” Something grabbed his ankle and he screamed. He looked behind him, but saw nothing except more mist, spinning and twisting. The thing around his ankle started pulling, and he grabbed the edge of the seat to brace himself. But it was persistent. He shook his leg and tried to pull himself in. Larkin gasped, and grabbed his arm, helping to pull him inside. They made slow progress, but he felt more things wrapping around his legs. “Let go of me!” He yelled, kicking his legs. With one final yank, he tumbled inside, and immediately turned around to slam the door shut.

“Oh my god,” Larkin whispered. “Are you okay, Mat?”

“Y-yeah, fine,” Mathew said, pressing a hand to his chest and feeling his heartbeat. He looked out the car windows, seeing nothing but fog. “Um...now what?”

“Do we wait for John or Mom?” Larkin asked.

“I...I guess so.” Mathew paused. “Oh, she left her keys in the car.”

“Mat, you can’t drive,” Larkin said, poking him.

“I can in, like, two years.”

“But we’re not in two years, we’re now.”

“Look, all I’m saying is I could probably figure it out in an emergency.”

The two of them fell silent, looking at the mist outside the car. Minutes passed. “Poor faces,” Larkin muttered.

“What are you talking about?” Mathew asked, looking at him.

“The faces in the fog. I mean, sometimes there’s hands too. But mostly faces.” Larkin pointed out the window, tapping the glass.

Mathew squinted. Then he gasped. There were vague faces in there, appearing in swirls then melting back into the fog. “Oh god. It’s like soul sand. That’s creepy.”

“No, it’s sad,” Larkin insisted. “Cause the demon with the cat face probably put them there.”

“Uh...yeah, probably.” Staring out at the mist, Mathew sat straight up. “Wait a second. There’s...there’s something there,” he whispered. Something was moving the mist around, disturbing it and causing tendrils to move about. “Hang on.” Mathew started looking through the car, pulling open the glove box. There had to be something to use as a weapon, didn’t there? Something heavy, or—

A hand pressed against the driver’s side window, another one waving away the fog. Mathew jumped. Stacy’s face slowly came into view, pressing against the glass. Her eyes widened as she saw Mathew and Larkin inside, both huddled as far away from her as possible. She raised her hands, gave a smile, and slowly opened the driver’s door and slid inside. “Um...hey, pumpkins,” she said softly.

“Mom?” Mathew asked, voice squeaking.

“Yeah, it’s me, it’s...I’m so sorry.” Stacy covered her mouth with her hand. “I didn’t mean—that wasn’t me, I would never ever do anything like—I didn’t want to scare you, I—”

Mathew stared at her. Was his mom...crying? Well, he supposed that wasn’t too odd. She cried when the news about their dad came in, and many times after that, staying up late at night with a bottle. She never wanted either of them to see it. “Mom…” he said slowly. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t your fault,” Larkin said, slowly scooting closer. “It was that freaky puppet thing.”

Stacy wiped at her eyes. “Thank, boys,” she whispered. “We...we should get out of here. I think the fog is getting even thicker.” And she reached down to start the car.

“What about John?” Mathew asked.

“He can handle himself,” Stacy said patiently. She glanced out the side window. “Those things won’t bother him. But they will bother us.”

The car rolled forward. Stacy gripped the steering wheel tight, eyes wide and staring out the front. They weren’t going that fast, but for the limited visibility, it was as quick as they could go without worrying about running off the road.

It felt like forever before they finally broke out of the thick fog. As soon as they were clear, Stacy hit the gas, and the van shot forward. Mathew and Larkin glanced at each other, then quickly put their seatbelts on. “Mom,” Mathew finally said. “This is...this is because of the ghost thing from the house, right?”

Stacy didn’t answer for a bit. Then she nodded. “Yes, I think it is.” She laughed drily. “I guess they all know each other, or something.” She paused. “Don’t worry. We’re...we’re going to go farther away this time. It’ll be fine.”

“Mom,” Mathew said. “Don’t...”

The silence filled the car for a moment. “Don’t what, Mat?” Stacy asked.

Mathew let out a long breath. “Don’t...do that again.”

She smiled sadly. “I’ll be more careful next time. I promise.”

* * * * * * * * * *

Two days later, a mom and her two kids were standing on the deck of a ferry, watching the gray clouds overhead. Stacy sighed. She would’ve preferred to fly back home, back to the town they’d lived in before they knew anything about things in houses or forests. Bad memories be damned. But her savings were quickly running dry, and the flight over an entire ocean would’ve cost a lot more. “You two doing okay?” she asked.

Mathew had his headphones on, listening to music on his phone. He nodded. Larkin was in the process of sitting down and poking his head through the railings to look down at the water below, giving a quick thumbs-up. Both of them were wearing new outfits she’d bought at the last town.

“Good, good.” Stacy sighed, looking back at land. It was slowly shrinking into the distance. She folded her arms, feeling the handle of her gun hidden beneath her coat. “We’re all...good.” They all went silent and watched the shore fade away.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #tw: horror #marvin the magnificent #jameson jackson #brigid writes fanfiction #horrorseptics

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a-simple-imagine · 5 years

Text

Nothing But Co-Stars

Requested by anonymous: I was hoping to get a Gemma Chan story where she and reader worked on captain Marvel together and are high key in love and like the media finds out or something!

Pairing: Gemma Chan x fem!reader

Words: 1937

A/N - 2 posts in one day?? AND I have 3 more coming. This is so unlike me. I did say I would do all my requests before endgame which I’m seeing tomorrow. Since I’ve been avoiding spoilers it’s given me a lot of time to write. I have 5 open spots for requests so throw them at me.

I was gonna make this fluffy but you know whats better than fluff? angst. I left it on a cliff hanger too

You glance anxiously towards your partner in this interview. You were looking for an answer; some indication of whether she wanted to talk about it or just move on. The woman just smiles softly and you turn back to the interviewer. You can answer a simple question. Nothing suspicious about that.

"Yeah, we become pretty close while working on the set together- as did all the cast."

"I agree." Gemma nods. "I think working on any show or movie you kind of become like a little family for a while. So I've been spending a lot of time with Y/N."

"You two were spotted out for dinner together quite a few times." The interviewer adds.

"Oh yeah. What can I say she makes a great dinner date." You insist with a soft chuckle.

"Y/N actually was late to our last dinner date," Gemma added.

"Okay, I actually have an excuse for that."

"Which is?"

"It's nothing major, I just had a really long day. I had just finished up some press with Brie and it ran a little later than expected. And these two girls run up to us asking for pictures. So I'm taking pictures of them with Brie because y'know she's Captain Marvel. I was surprised when they asked for one with me, it made me feel like a star. Anyway, this girl is standing next to me. I have one arm around her and she just whispers in my ear, will you strangle me?"

"What?" The interviewer seemed surprised but amused.

"Yeah, I was like so confused and Brie is just laughing next to me. I sadly had to tell her that I would not choke her but we were both shook."

"You never told me that."

You shrug casually, glancing in your co-star's direction. "Never needed to. I didn't think it was relevant, I wasn't that late to dinner."

The interview continues normally. You talk about the film. Answered some vaguely personal questions. And when it was over, you retreated to your black SUV with the rest of your team. Surprised when Gemma slips into the seat beside you a few moments later.

"Do you not have your own car?"

"Thought we may as well share." She insisted, hand settling on your thigh. You smile warmly at her.

"I was gonna head back and go for a run but how about we grab lunch instead?"

She nodded a little. You had your driver/security guard take a detour to a small cafe downtown. This thing with Gemma had been going on for a while now but letting the world know wasn't part of the plan yet. So it requires a lot of sneaking around. You share lunch at this small french style cafe. You chat about anything everything. It was pleasant. It was undisturbed. And for just a moment you forget that for some messed up reason you're more than just two people having lunch. Brushes of hands. Longing glances. As you leave, your hands are intertwined. A peck on the cheek before you slip into you car and she gets in the one behind. You go your separate ways after that like nothing happened. You had to be in a different places tomorrow.

"We have a problem," your assistant announces as your speeding down the road. Tapping away on her phone beside you. You're preoccupied, recording the current song on the radio to post to your Instagram story.

"Have you seen TMZ?"

You don't register the question right away but when you do you shrug. "Who got a DUI now?"

"I don't know. I'm more worried about you," you glance at her briefly before looking out the window. Cars pass by. An old woman walks her dog. A young man skateboards down the street with what looks like an ice pop. "Can we get ice cream on the way home?"

"What are you five years old?" Your drive asks. His tone is playful.

"A five year old who also happens to be your boss." You flash a tight-lipped smile in your driver's direction. Continuing to scroll through your Instagram feed. Completely ignoring most of the posts just minding your own business. Your team chatted around you. You could hear what they were saying but you just weren't registering any of it.

"Y/N. You were planning to keep your blossoming relationship with Miss. Chan a secret were you not?"

"For now." You respond with a small nod. "A lot of people date their costars so I just wanna make sure there's something here and it's not just because we've been working together. I don't want this to be promo."

"TMZ posted about you."

A split second of panic. "About the interview? That was fast."

"No about you two." She held her phone up for you. Your Y/E/C eyes narrow in on the English actress and yourself. Your lips pressed to her cheek. Hands intertwined.

'Y/N Y/L/N cosies up with co-star Gemma Chan during lunch date'

Uncreative. Straight to the point. Definitely TMZs style. But it was just one news outlet. No big deal. It's not like they caught you doing anything bad. You open Twitter and check your official mentions. More outlets had taken the opportunity to write about it. You're not a massive star but enough to peak the interest of the media. Enough for an otherwise slow news day. Fuck. It had been a brief laps in judgment. Hardly anyone was around. You decide to let the news linger for now. No need to confirm or deny. You open Instagram and take a selfie. No caption. Just a time filter. You get the ice cream you wanted. Deciding upon Mint chocolate chip. You also put that on your Instagram story. People who don't like mint choc are tasteless as a caption. 3 posts were enough to satisfy what fans you had. It makes you seem active and like you're engaging with your fans when you've hardly put in any effort. You return to your moderate size apartment. It overlooks the city. It looks beautiful at night. Your team leaves you alone not too long after that. You go for a jog with your dog. It's peaceful. There's safety in numbers. On returning, you take a shower to which you perform Beyoncé's greatest hits before retiring to your living room. The word room used loosely because your apartment is open floor. You place your shark mug - the body of a great white, fins and all made up the mug and the tail made up the handle - of hot chocolate atop a low glass coffee table alongside your iPad. You take up space between the table which is sat on a plush carpet and the couch which rests on laminate. You switch on the tv more so for background noise than anything else. Deciding to watch The Good Wife. You've been binge-watching it lately. It's good. And then you call her. A few rings pass by and she picks up. Her face swimming into view. You smile at her and she returns it.

"We need to talk," you say quietly. Picking up your mug of hot chocolate; for a moment you're amused by its quirkiness. You blow gently on the surface. Your attention on the drama unfolding on screen.

"You saw?"

"I did." You reply, daring to take a sip. It was really hot. Burns the end of your tongue but you can tell it's gonna taste great. You keep the mug in your hands allowing the heat to transfer to your skin.

"What are you watching?" She wonders clearly noticing your lack of attention.

"The good wife." You answer, turning back to her. "So, what do we do?"

"What do you want to do?"

You shrug. It's not a question you should decide on your own and so you had left it until now to truly think about. "Maybe it's time to just tell everyone."

Her expression is unreadable and so you divert back to Alicia as she battles yet another court case. She seems to be winning.

"Really?" By her tone, you can tell she's not entirely on board with the idea. But she's also not trying to come off as malicious or embarrassed. Just cautious. Being in the public eye could be great but it was also unforgiving. It was progressive but unprogressive. For every person who loved you, there were ten more lining up to tell you you're a piece of shit. Talentless. Your words were always being twisted. Every step of your life became strategic. To some extent, you did whatever you wanted but you had a publicist that kept you from doing anything stupid. Usually, she would be on the phone right now. Maybe she was. You had left your phone in the kitchen on silent for a reason.

"I just don't think Its best right now,"

"For us?" You question as your stare down the iPad screen. "Or to be telling everyone?"

The hesitation is worrying but you don't question it. You decide not to make a big deal out of it.

"Telling everyone." She eventually answers. She's not looking at you and you wonder where her attention lies.

"Why?" You ask immediately. Brow cocked in curiosity.

"I just... don't think it's the right time. "

"Then what do you want to do?" You ask, bringing your shark mug to your lips and taking a large sip. It warmed your entire body.

"I don't know," She answers. "can't we ignore it?"

"Sure," You nod, returning your gaze to the tv. "but people are still gonna think we're together so why not just tell them?"

"Y/N, please." Your disappointed in her soft words but you had been expecting them.

"I'm gonna talk to my publicist, see what we can do." You explain.

"Thank you,"

"I kinda want to tell everyone though." You mumble casually. More to yourself than her. She didn't seem like she was going to change her mind any time soon. "What does your publicist say?"

"I told her I wanted to ignore it. See what happens."

"Oh." You nod a little. "Okay then."

"How was your run?"

You glance back to her. Taking in a little more of your drink. She was changing the conversation so I guess that was the end of that. "It was good."

A silence comes between both of you. It's a little awkward but that's because you're a little disheartened. The circumstances had changed. Everyone had already caught a glimpse so why does she still want to hide? You can't wrap your head around it. What was she so scared of. You watch her through the screen. Listening to the TV show in the background.

"I'm gonna go." You eventually say. "I'll call you when I'm done with press tomorrow."

"Oh- yeah, okay." She offers you an unsure smile.

"I'll see you later Gemma,"

"Wait Y/N, I-" you cut off the feed before she can finish her sentence. You down the contents of your mug before raising to your feet. You exchange your mug with the phone in the kitchen and retire to the couch. Your pup comes along and lies down next you. Head falling to rest in your lap. You hand brushes through its soft fur. You unlock your phone and finally return the missed call.

"So what's the plan?"

"Tell me what you want?"

With an unfocused gaze on the screen, you sigh. "She wants to ignore it."

"I didn't ask what she wants, I don't work for her. What do you want to do?"

You hesitate for a moment. "I... want everyone to know."

#gemma chan #gemma chan x reader #marvel #long #Nothing but Co-Stars

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seaspiritwrites · 5 years

Text

21 questions

Approximately 8000 years ago, @ofaclassicalmind tagged me to answer these questions, and I definitely forgot all about it until I was cleaning out my inbox today.

So...better late than never. I guess?

Nickname(s): In fandom, sea. Which works out pretty well, considering my actual name begins with "C" and I enjoy a good homophone.

Zodiac sign: Leo with Pisces rising. A walking contradiction, essentially.

Height: 5′5"

Last movie I saw: Rocketman. It somehow managed to be both whimsical and moving at the same time, and I highly recommend it, especially if you're an Elton John fan. It's worth it for the visuals and music alone, but I also thought Taron Egerton was fantastic! Oh, and spoiler alert: Richard Madden can't sing. AT ALL.

Last thing I googled: 1943 calendar, because I have been working on a fic set in that year for nearly 12 months and apparently can't be bothered to bookmark one.

Favorite musician: Impossible to choose. I grew up in a house full of 70s and 80s music, so artists like Billy Joel, Elton John, and John Mellencamp remind me of my childhood. I suppose 90s boy bands do, too, but we don't need to talk about that...

When I'm writing, I love classical music. Daniel Hope's "Spheres" album is a current favorite. I also, for some reason, have always loved the sound of uilleann pipes.

Other blogs: Nope!

Following: 131

Followers: 232 (Wow, when did that happen? Thanks, all!)

Do I get asks: Not many, but a few. And they're always welcome!

Amount of sleep: 7-8 hours, if I have my way. Less than 6 and things get very bad, very fast.

Lucky numbers: 7, because July is my birthday month and I am extraordinarily uncreative in this area.

What I’m wearing: Soft gray lounge pants and a two-tone blue baseball shirt. (You'd think I planned that, but I really didn't.)

Dream job: Honestly, I (mostly) enjoy my job as an academic writer/editor. BUT, if we're talking DREAM dream job, then I have to say novelist. Terribly predictable for a fic writer, I know.

Dream trip: England, Scotland, and Ireland. I have heritage in all three countries, and I haven't made it to any of them. Yet!

Favorite food: Bread. Seriously, I could live on bread (and maybe some cheese) if we didn't need pesky things like vitamins in our diet.

Instruments: I played clarinet in junior high. It's still around somewhere, but I highly doubt I could play it anymore.

Languages: English. I took Spanish in high school, and I can remember things like colors and foods and how to ask where the bathroom is or how much something costs. Sadly, that's about it.

Favorite song: Another impossible question, as it tends to vary based on my mood and current life circumstances. I've been digging "Through the Ages" by Cloud Cult (an indie band from my area) lately. It weirdly gives me Jaime x Brienne reincarnation vibes.

Random fact: According to family lore, I am distantly related on my dad's side to Francis Scott Key, who penned "The Star-Spangled Banner." Is it true? Who knows!

Aesthetic: Cool colors, especially blues and greens, with a bit of tan or brown. Lots of nature photos on the wall, books piled on every surface, soft blankets, mismatched but comfortable furniture. Lounge wear within minutes of walking through the front door, jeans and tall boots or sandals (depending on the season) when I'm out.

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laufeyson-l0ki · 6 years

Text

REQUEST: "I'm just as weird"

Okay, so, before I start some words hahaha so I'm really thankful and glad that people keep following my slow ass ! The reason I haven't been writing these days is writers block. I have like 3 requests waiting for me, yet they are all fanfiction requests, so I have to take my time for those, since I'd like them to be a little longer. As I said, you're always welcome to submit your ideas in my inbox or just comment them or private message me them. That would help my uncreative ass a lot hahahah

Anyway, thank you for 0.9k! We're so close to 1k my dudes this is far more than I ever hoped for! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this @hunterwerewolfinblack !

For clarification: This is a Ghost Rider x Thor Crossover. Loki was close dying but you saved him by inheriting the wrath of a really old gost to keep him alive.

-------------------v------------------------

You and Loki were the couple nobody thought would fit together. You were mortal, yet you had a similar mindset as Loki. And Loki was 'immortal', as you may know, but sometimes gods have to die too. Thus, some weeks ago you had to make the biggest sacrifice ever. Loki got into real big trouble during a fight on earth, which you had to witness, and was badly injured, close to dying. When he finally breathed his last words, telling you that you made him the luckiest man ever, you couldn't help but want him back. Your wish was so big you found yourself again in the depths of Hel, the Norse hell. When you opened your eyes you saw a woman sit on a throne, a big black dog sitting next to her.

"Where the fuck am I", you asked confused and still shocked. The woman stood up and made her way to you. The way she moved made you come to the conclusion that she is a goddess too. "This, my child, is Hel. Or you might know it as hell. The place where people come when they died and lived a brutal life. Or they were a huge ass hole, then they come here too. Really annoying, of you ask me", she said, gesturing around a little while standing in front of the still confused you. She sighed and looked at Loki. "So this failure of a brother died, huh. But the question is, why are you here?"

Your glance lowered, now looking at the countless bruises and open wounds he had. You started to gather all your courage and finally asked her. "Is it possible to bring him back to me? He doesn't deserve to die like this", you said with a rather breaking voice that tried to stay as calm as possible. She raised her eyebrow and started laughing a bit after a few seconds. "You really want this little shit to live again? Well, okay then. Under one condition; you give me your sweet innocent soul and work for me."

"I can't, that would mean that I'd-" Hela interrupted you with an evil grin. "That would mean you would come here after you died, yes. But you mortals can't live without a soul. I honestly don't know why you are so clingy and always need a soul. Anyway, I will give you a different soul, a soul that makes you bring back the really bad guys to Hel. So, be my little puppy and keep little Loki or leave him dead and live a happy mortal life."

You didn't even hesitated and immediately accepted the offer. The only thing you could remember is, that you woke up in your bed, Loki next to you, sleeping. You sighed in relief, standing up to use the bathroom. When you looked into the mirror something strange happened. The lights started to flicker and suddenly all the lights went out for 2 seconds. And what you saw in the mirror was gruesome. You, or better this thing, was a skeleton with a burning head and a big chain around the neck. You checked and touched your face, making sure it's really you. And it was. With that you noticed that all this wasn't a dream. It was what Hela promised you.

Sadly, you didn't notice that Loki had come into the bathroom as well, seeing this thing instead of his wife. He looked at you and then made him self noticeable. "Honey, you look... different. Did you cut your hair?" - "Loki? No... you shouldn't see this. Look away. It's... disgusting." He went behind you, looking into the mirror with you. "I guess I know why you are like this and I thank you a lot for your courage. But you didn't have to do this for me. But... what do you see in this mirror?"

You sighed and dared to look into the mirror again. "And handsome man, really tall.." - "Well, I see a beautiful woman, capable of things no human would dare to do. A woman who is beautiful even without... all of the skin." You boxed him, which hurt him more than he expected. "But, now we're not so different anymore", Loki said smiling into the mirror. You asked, what he meant by that, but he just smiled, turning into his Jotun self. "Now both of us have a side that we dislike. We're both gruesome looking and far more dangerous. You're weird, and... I'm weird too."

You just had so giggle a little. You would've loved to smile, but that's pretty difficult without any lips. But your skull started to burn, making you feel more embarrassed than before. Loki laughed and now watched your little blue flames flicker. "Gosh, these are so cute. They really suit you, you know. And...", he took your skeleton and and put yours inside of his, giving your skull a little kiss on the cheekbone, "I love you so much, skeleton or not. You're not alone. Plus, we now are really the opposite."

You turned to him, asking, "What do you mean by that?" To this Loki only answered, slowly walking out for the bathroom with you, still blue as heck, "You're now officially the hottest wife someone can have and I am the coolest husband. But let us grab some breakfast, dying and then living again is pretty exhausting." You slowly turned back into your normal human self and laughed a little, then helping Loki making breakfast.

-------------------v------------------------

Tag list

@a-kiddo-with-a-doggo @drakesfiance @lokilover-39 @orighami @boohooiamthefool @drakelover78 @carydorse @mel-ithilethiel @real-d-walton @babygirlmeepi @inumorph @charmwng @yessy2012 @alexa444 @wrappedinlokisarms @reading-in-moonlight @mikithekiki @v-2bucky @halseyandharleyquinn @art-flirt @kayleighfreeman

#avengers #avengers au #loki #loki fanfic #loki headcanons #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki (marvel)#loki odinson #thor #thor headcanon #thor imagine #thor odinson #thor ragnarok #avengers headcanons #avengers infinity war #loki au #loki imagine #loki requests

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clove-teasdale · 6 years

Text

truths & lies

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

A/N: not a challenge. OKAY Y’ALL, this takes place the same day as THIS FIC from @brooks-schreave but at night. if u want context re-read that. not entirely necessary if u remember what happened but leaving it there anyway. I hope this wasn’t too bad and I made it justice. thanks grace for the rp <3 ft. my guards and brooks. also, I needed a name at one point and was uncreative, sorry. over 3k words. forgive typos and stuff, enjoy! (and since it’s today, happy holidays!!)

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

I was turning around the last corner to my room when I heard the prince’s voice.

“Officers! A nice evening we're having…”

A small smile formed on my face as I watched Brooks talking with fake enthusiasm aimed at Barnes and Rogers. Seeing them patrolling around the hall was something I was used to by that point and they were quite the amusing pair. According to the maids, Rogers was in his first year of duty, a smart kid extremely loyal to the monarchy. Barnes, in contrast, had been serving for over a decade, already with a family of his own. His loyalty to the job.

Rogers immediately bowed to Brooks, not bothering to question why he’d start such a trivial conversation with them. “Absolutely, Highness.”

Barnes, however, only bowed politely. Sharp as ever as he asked if there was something they could help him with. “Oh, no, no…” Brooks said, kicking the ground, clearly uncomfortable. “You must be wondering why I'm here.”

Rogers shook his head, almost offended at the thought of being considered so disrespectful. “Oh, but it's your palace.”

“It's the floor of the Selected,” Barnes interjected, suspicion and disapproval noticeable before he quickly added, “But it is not our place to wonder, Highness.”

Subtle, Barnes. I walked the rest of the way to my room, getting closer to them quietly. This was sure to be an entertaining conversation, our conspiring could wait.

“Glad you asked!” Brooks clapped his hands together, smiling awkwardly. “I am just checking up on things, being a good guy. I am in no way here to see anyone specific.”

Barnes raised his brows and I shook my head. I had guessed he was a bad liar before, but he was worse than I’d expected.

“You shouldn't worry about that, Highness,” Rogers began, oblivious to Barnes' suspicion, “we're doing our job well, I assure you. You can go on about your day and let us worry about the guarding.”

“For once my partner is right,” Barnes eyed the prince warily, “you should not concern yourself which such trivial things, but it's very... kind of you.”

“I want to be a guard!" Brooks blurted out, practically irradiating panic as he nodded to himself. "Th-that's why I'm here. I'm practicing.”

I rose both eyebrows, almost facepalming before the need to laugh hit me. I contained it though. “You wanna be a what now?”

Barnes and Rogers both looked at him with their own shocked expressions. “That’s unexpected, Highness.”

“That’s an understatement,” Barnes mumbled.

“Yeah, I've just always been fascinated with the... brute work.”

Brooks’ act was crashing and I snorted at the sight. “I hardly think it’s polite of you to call it brute... Highness.”

He turned to fully face me. “Clove, what a coincidence!”

One of my eyebrows went up as I watched him walk over, trying to hide my amusement as I grinned, “Is it?” His eyes narrowed.

“You're right, it isn't,” shaking his head solemnly, he faced the guards, “we're lovers meeting for our nightly tryst.”

My eyes widened before I glared at him, taking a step closer as a silent threat. You little... Fixing a smile on my face, as if that were the type of joking I approved of him, I let out a fake laugh. I punched his arm in faux playfulness though. “How funny, Brooks.”

He grabbed his arm, doing his best to pull up a smile through the pain. “I am a jokester.”

I spared him one last glare, then smiled politely at Barnes and Rogers. “He probably just needs help with that...Spanish homework of his.”

Officer Rogers tilted his head. “Don't you have tutors, Highness?”

“The prince is too shy to ask for help, aren't you Brooks?” I countered.

We didn’t need an awkward pause of Brooks debating what to say, and besides, it was my turn to embarrass him. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying it. Brooks had no other option than to whisper it was true so the dreadful exchange could be over.

“Oh, deeply sorry, Highness. We didn't know,” Rogers apologized quickly. Barnes narrowed his eyes, seeming not quite sure if he should believe it but bowed anyway. “We'll leave you to it.” He spun on his heel to leave and Roger followed quickly with, “At your service, if you ever need it.”

As soon as they were out of sight, Brooks sighed and I reached for his arm to shove him in the room. Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it for a moment, that weird need to laugh taking over again. This time I let myself do so.

“Stop laughing.” Brooks crossed his arms. “That wasn't funny.”

I ignored him, of course. “You want to be a guard?” I made a face of fake disbelief, bringing a hand to my chest. “How incredibly humble of you.”

“You're amused, aren't you?”

I was. Very much so. Faking a more serious tone I continued, “Brute force is so very important on the life of a guard. I'm glad you are aware of it.” My chuckling became softer as my amusement subsided. It was a little strange to tease him just for the sake of it instead of the usual sting I used when he was being a jerk, but I wasn't about to complain about witnessing such a priceless scene.

“I'm glad you enjoyed that.”

Meeting his gaze, I managed to stop laughing, realizing this was Brooks. I composed myself and cleared my throat. “Yeah, well... anyway....” I walked to the closet, searching for my box hidden behind some shoes. Taking it to the room, I set the box on the bed and opened it to reveal a couple of old magazines, my random sheets with notes, the journal he'd given me from the library, and my own notebook.

Picking up the journal, I flipped through the first pages. “It's been proving a little hard to read, in all honesty, but I've figured out the first chapters in my spare time the last two days.” I handed him the journal opened on the first margin annotation and then reached for my notebook in the box. “This is what I've got so far. I haven't gotten to the details of how they do it yet,” that was in further chapters, “but I'm pretty sure they don't leave the Selection to chance anymore.”

I handed him my notebook opened on my progress. It wasn't much, but there were readable transcriptions of the first Spanish annotations from the margins of the journal, then translations underneath and my own notes for context.

To avoid wasting time reading all of them, he asked, “What does it say?”

“Basically, it seems they consider the royal bloodline to be of utmost importance and therefore thought of it wise to further consider who is worthy enough to produce an heir.” I rolled my eyes as I explained, understanding the concern to some level, but knowing caste alone did not define worthiness. It was about finding the right person and choosing wisely. Heart and mind. “Of course, the whole charade of the Selection is that it's equal and impartial. Letting a daughter of Illéa join the highest of ranks and bring a voice to the people. That means they can't really be openly selective of who is allowed to join and who isn't.” The journal was proof that that didn’t stop them, however.

“But does the heir still have a choice?”

I pressed my lips together, knowing he meant Nate. “I doubt he's aware... Your father on the other hand…”

He closed his eyes. I understood that disappointment well. “That's what I thought. Do you think your dad knows?”

Clenching my jaw, I looked away. “I'm afraid to say it's very likely most of the advisers know.”

Even without reading more of the journal, I knew Dad had to be involved. It would be foolish to deny it. I couldn’t turn a blind eye to the strings of logic weaving in my head, creating a fuller picture. Wilson called it my double-edged sword. You can't always hold on to hope when the reality is hitting you right in the face. Just like I had been unable to pretend I didn't notice Miss Grundy's strange mannerisms whenever parent-teacher conferences came along.

A hand on my back broke my thoughts. “Hey, we don't know if this is still going on, and if it is, on the bright side, I guess you're considered worthy.”

He was trying to be nice, but a dry laugh left my mouth either way as I stepped away from his hand. “How fortunate to be defined by a number.” I knew he was trying to be nice. To joke, be light-hearted. Sadly for him, I wasn’t the best when it came to people comforting me.

Actually, I probably wasn’t the best at comforting others either. Not in the most conventional of ways at least. I chewed the inside of my cheek, muttering, “I didn't think he was that type of person.” Then shaking my head, I focused back on the box. There was no point in sulking. I just had to push it aside.

With the help of the palace library, I’d found a book on the analysis of handwriting. There were a couple of general markers that people used to figure out psychological aspects of who’d been holding the pen, but some were also used to predict the probable gender of the writer. I had printed out pictures I’d taken from the book, showing stroke samples and statistics.

Standing next to Brooks so he could compare the writing in the journal, I steered our conversation back to the research. “I have no clue who wrote this since it was years ago, but considering the way of the strokes it was very likely a man.”

“I take offense to that remark.”

“Great. That's extra points for it being an accident.”

He smiled at my quick retort. “How many points were earned for the slap?”

I looked at him surprised, holding back a grin by pressing my lips together and pushing him away, taking the journal in the process. “That was your own fault.”

“Maybe so, but violence is never the answer.”

“Fair point.” I wasn’t about to argue against it, so instead, I said the truth with a shrug. “I was in a bad mood.”

“I was trying to provoke you.”

Faking a gasp, I gave him a perplexed look. “Were you really?!” Then letting my expression fall flat, “What a plot twist.”

He laughed, which wasn't too bad a sound, bumping shoulders with me as he kept a smile on. “It's how I show I care.”

I scoffed. “That's a stupid way of showing it.”

“Next time, I'll just shower you with compliments. Promise.”

“Sure. Let's see if you don't die from such a hardship.”

His eyes brightened for some reason as he leaned towards me, acting dramatically. “Oh, my dearest Clove, how your smile shines like the sun.” I raised an eyebrow and he leaned closer, looking at the ceiling and clutching his chest. “Your voice is like a song and I'm addicted to the melody.”

I crossed my arms and countered, “Max said my name alone was like music.”

He looked back down at me with a small smile. “And how right he was.”

I did my best not to seem too amused as I narrowed my eyes. This is probably how he acts around Eloise. I feigned suspicion, lifting my chin. “So this is how you get all the other girls to like you, huh?”

“Oh yeah, they can't contain themselves.”

“Are you admitting you've been flirting with the Selected?”

“Absolutely. I just can't help it.”

I chuckled at his persistence to keep this going. Though I wasn’t sure what it even was. Joking? Acting like decent human beings around each other for once? “What’s gotten into you?”

He stopped, leaning back. “You told me to be nice.”

“Oh, sorry,” I joked, aiming for the harmless teasing from earlier, “I thought that word wasn’t in your vocabulary. It's unexpected I must admit.”

He tilted his head. “All you had to do was ask.”

I gave him a flat look. “I’ve implied it before and so far, before today, you’ve failed.”

“You looked like you needed cheering up.” I could only blink at him after that, taken aback by his admission. I hadn’t thought he would actually notice, let alone help.

I’d had lunch with my dad the previous day, unable to cancel even if the last thing I wanted to do was face him after the journal. He’d lied to my face and there was nothing I could say about it. I had to act like everything was okay. Like I didn't know what he was involved in.

Pushing down the wave of anger at the memory of sitting with him and laughing at his jokes, I closed my eyes and let silence fill the room. Brooks and I would figure out the truth. Somehow, eventually, we would have the needed proof.

I took a deep breath and glanced back at him, allowing myself to smile, yet it turned into a full-on grin as I shook my head. The dork and I working together. Who would’ve thought? I tilted my head in his direction, watching him for a moment. “Thanks, then.”

He smiled back, some sort of pride lighting up his features, “Anytime.”

Mere seconds later, however, he looked away, hands fidgeting. I scratched the back of my neck, awkwardness rubbing off on me too. Change of subject it is. “So, what are we planning to do with this information once we've got more figured out?” I thought about it for a second. “I want others to know.”

“Wow, Teasdale. Looks like we agree. Let's hope the world doesn't end.”

“Dramatic much?” I asked, but he claimed to be a dramatic person on a regular basis. I said I used 'annoying' as his usual adjective and he brought some sarcasm into the mix by calling me ‘absolutely delightful’. “I see the compliments keep coming. Trying to keep me in a good mood?”

That finally got him flustered. “Y'know this is harder than it looks. I don't know how to act around you. I jus-I'm a little lost here.”

“And you think I know?" The need to defend me took over. Little kids arguing. "Before the library, the last thing you let me know was how no one wanted me around. Not precisely the most welcoming of statements.” He froze, stuttering and I sighed. “Just save it, Brooks. Point is I'm entitled to my skepticism, and as you said before, we weren't precisely friends in the past. You had no reasons to argue with me or accuse me of anything and yet you still did so.” Maybe I was a little angry about it. “I don't even know why.”

He looked down with frustration, but composed himself quickly, meeting my gaze again. “I know I haven't been the most polite, or chivalrous, o-or decent man to you.” He closed his eyes. “You have to understand, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know why I do it, I don't know why it's aimed towards you. I'm sorry.”

I stared at him as he kept his eyes shut, seeming far too embarrassed to look at me. Part of me couldn't believe he’d actually apologized. I wasn't sure if it was the most eloquent of apologies, but there was truth behind his words.

When he kept his eyes closed, I took a moment to think about how to reply. I wasn’t sure if this meant we could try to be friends now--an idea he’d completely loathed years back--but maybe, for the sake of our teamwork, we would have to avoid killing each other before getting answers.

Reaching for a pillow, I threw it at him. “That's my acceptance of your apology. You can open your eyes now.”

He opened them cautiously. “You've gotten violent.”

“It was that or…” I walked over and paused, reconsidering one last time before offering a hand for him to shake. “Clove Teasdale.” It was the same greeting I’d made the first time we’d met. When we were both just two freckled three-year-olds.

Back then he’d refused to accept it. Today he didn’t. “Brooks Schreave.”

I kept eye contact as he held to my hand, waiting for him to shake it and pointing out, “The pillow was more fun.”

He squeezed slightly. “Can't say I enjoyed it as much as an alternative response.”

“Like hitting you with two pillows?” I suggested. He gave me a flat look that made me grin. “I figured.”

His hand didn't move to shake, but he didn’t let go either so I glanced down at our joined hands. Uh... when I met his gaze again he was still looking directly at me, his expression awkward as I was getting used to at that point.

Not knowing what to do, he started swinging our hands. “I don't know how to stop. I feel like it'll make things awkward.”

A genuine laugh bubbled up. I hoped he didn’t feel like I was making fun of him, this was just a side of him I’d never seen before. “More awkward than to keep holding hands? Should I help you out?”

He nodded. “We'll both let go on the count of three.”

“One,” I began, “two,” he continued.

“Three,” I let go. He didn’t.

Well.

He snatched his hand back. “Whoops, made that worse.” I rolled my eyes and hit him with the pillow again after picking it up. He stumbled back. “That's not a soft pillow!” Then, attempting to take the cushion away, he accidentally pulled me with it.

Letting go of the pillow quickly, Brooks caught me before I could stumble forward, but in the process, Mr. clumsy decided to slip on the fallen pillow. My eyes widened as I placed hands out in front of me, hoping not to fall flat on my face. He swiftly shifted our positions to cushion my fall, however, groaning as I fell on his chest instead of the floor. “Shoot.”

Idiot. I moved off him, resting my back on the floor and admiring the ceiling. “You’re horrible.”

He ignored that and joked by saying I had a nice ceiling. I said it wasn’t mine, but he argued it was "for the time being."

“Wonder how long that’ll be.” After the discovery of the journal I hoped I'd be able to stay long enough to figure that out.

“You'll probably be here for a while, logs.”

I narrowed my eyes at his tone. “You’ve never called me that.”

“That's because it's stupid.”

I scoffed, lifting my upper body with the help of my elbows. “We were like 5.” I couldn’t tell if there was anger or annoyance in his gaze at the ceiling, but the word jealousy, also crossed my mind as I remembered my conversation with Quinn. I still couldn’t believe Brooks could have had a crush on me once, but if he had…

“You were clearly in love with him then," he stated, and I knew he meant Nate as he leaned up on his elbows too, locking eyes with me, "but tell me, are you now?”

I decided to keep the discussion civil as we’d failed to do in the past regarding this topic. “I’ve never been in love.” With Nate or otherwise.

“Me neither.”

“Then why do you assume I was?”

“Childhood infatuation is a common thing,” he explained, speaking a little lower.

“Infatuation is stupid.”

“Yes,” he whispered. “it is.” He was leaning closer, I could tell. He’d been moving in since the moment he’d sat up.

I frowned at the shift in the room, his face only an inch away. He was too close. What are you-... I opened my mouth but was cut off by a knock at the door.

“LADY CLOVE, DID YOU EAT DINNER?” I almost laughed at the sound of Barnes. Brooks stopped getting closer and moved away, looking down with a sigh as he lowered himself back to the floor.

Yelling back at Barnes on the other side of the door, I said, “I did!” And gave my current companion a suspicious glance.

“WHAT ABOUT YOUR VISITOR?” Barnes called again. “MAYBE HE SHOULD LEAVE TO GET SOME FOOD.”

I silently questioned Brooks about what he’d thought he was doing as I replied, “Yes, maybe.” His blue eyes met mine without an answer.

“I heard dinner was quite delicious, Highness. You should check it out.”

“I'm sure it was,” the prince called back. To me, he added, “I think I should go.” Standing up, he gave me a slight nod before walking to the door, opening it and offering Barnes a smile as the guard moved aside to let him pass, bowing. I watched as his back disappeared with a raised eyebrow, unsure if I should let myself assume anything.

Then my expression was for Barnes as he stood by the door. “What was that all about?”

“General concern for your eating habits, Lady Clove. You’ve already skipped breakfast today I was told.”

Yeah, right. I’d gotten food with Eloise later anyway. “Officer Barnes?”

He pressed his lips together, but when I didn’t let him go he simple admitted, “I know what it’s like to be his age.”

I rolled my eyes. Jacinda had mentioned the officer had a soft spot for protecting people easily whether he liked to admit it or not. A lot of the younger staff members looked up to him because he looked out for them.

"It's not like that," I mumbled, but even as I said it, I stared back into the room. At the fallen pillow I'd hit Brooks with.

It couldn’t be.

#brooks tag #NEXT FIC IS THE SLEEPOVER #THEN CHRISTMAS STUFF #LOTS OF THAT LOL #author #im excited #barnes and rogers tag #//fics #//not a challenge

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