Inverted AU Character Intros: 6/7
A JSE Fanfic
[These are intros for the versions of the guys for my Inverted AU! Inverted is a reverse-morality story where the good guys are bad and the bad guy—Anti—is good. These intros should help newcomers understand just how the dynamics work :) This one is for Inverted!Jack.]

“Hey bro, are you finished recording for the day?”

Jack pulled off his headphones and spun around to see his friend Chase peeking through the door to his recording room. “Oh hey,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Marvin’s back. He’s kinda…well, he wants to talk to everyone.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course.” Jack turned back around and paused the game he was playing, then stood up and followed Chase out of the recording room.

The upper floor of the house was mostly bedrooms, but there was also a closet, the recording room, and a room that Jackie kept locked. He said it was an office for his work, but Jack…wasn’t actually sure what that was. He asked a couple times, but Jackie had been evasive, and after a while Chase approached him and explained that Jackie was embarrassed, and asked that he stopped asking about it. Jack had immediately dropped the subject, not wanting to make his friend feel bad.

The downstairs, meanwhile, was the communal area. There was a kitchen, a dining room, a storage room, and a living room. Chase led Jack into the living room, which had a wall-mounted TV, a coffee table, two sofas, two armchairs, and three square tables. The one oddity was a tank in the corner, half-filled with a translucent green fluid. The glass had a jagged hole near the top, and small shards floated in the liquid inside. Jack’s eyes lingered on the tank for a long moment before looking at the other people in the room. Jackie was wearing his red hoodie, like always, and was slumped on one of the couches. Schneep was sitting on the other, filling out a stack of paperwork for his clinic. Jameson was sitting upright in one of the chairs. Marvin was pacing in front of the television, fuming. “The gang’s all here!” Jackie said when he saw Chase and Jack.

“Yeah, Chase said Marvin wanted to talk to us?” Jack sat down on the couch next to Schneep. He wrinkled his nose. The doctor had gone overboard with the cologne again. He kept telling him there was no reason to wear this much.

Marvin stopped pacing and looked at Jack, eyes bright behind his mask he always wore. “I lost them.”

Jack felt his heart stop. “Wh-what?”

“Are you sure?” Chase asked, moving over to sit in one of the chairs.

“Course I’m sure.” Marvin scowled. “That motherfucker has some good illusions up his sleeve. I thought everything was going perfectly, then I get back here and the thing fucking disappears.”

“Oh…” Jack said softly.

“That is unfortunate,” Schneep sighed. “Your Sam is unique, Jack. I have never seen anything like it. What luck, to have lost it!”

Jack instinctively opened his mouth to correct Schneep: Sam was a “they,” not an “it,” and they didn’t belong to Jack. But he stopped. Schneep had a hard time understanding that Sam, an eyeball, was actually sentient. It was no use trying to explain to him. He’d tried enough without success.

Jackie made a strangled kind of laugh. “We didn’t lose them, Henrik, they were taken and we need to get them back.”

“Can you shut up?” Marvin snapped. “I know I failed, you don’t need to fucking rub it in!”

{Marvin!} Jack jumped at the voice in his head. He was never going to get used to that. Jameson must’ve been broadcasting to the group as a whole, because everyone’s heads turned toward him. {Jackie didn’t mean that at all! Just because you’re in a tizzy doesn’t mean you need to lash out. If you’re going to continue to act this way, you can go chase yourself.}

“I’d prefer to stay, actually,” Marvin considered. “Alright, I’ll try to not do that.” Then he turned and continued his pacing.

“We’re sure we can get them back?” Jack asked nervously. “We’re really sure?”

“What do you take us for?” Schneep scoffed. “A batch of incompetents? Yes, we are sure.”

“That’s not what I—never mind. Sorry.” Jack sighed. “God, I hope Sam’s alright. They’d finally gotten used to living here.” He laughed a bit. “Only took them two years.”

“What?” Chase looked at Jack, head tilted, concerned. “Dude, you haven’t been here for two years.”

“Yeah we have.” Jack’s brow lowered as he remembered. “I…yeah.”

“You’ve been here for seven months, Jack.” Chase shifted back and forth in his seat. “You, uh, feeling okay?”

“No—no! We celebrated Christmas twice here! We had the year where we went to a hotel, then the year where we all stayed here. We got new sweaters then.”

“That was the same year, dude. It was only a couple months ago. We decided to go overboard? Because it was your first holiday with us? You moved in after Halloween last year? Any of this ringing a bell?”

“I…” Jack looked at the others for support, but they were all looking at him with variations of the same expression. “I could’ve sworn…”

{You’ve been pretty stressed lately,} Jameson pointed out. {Putting out all those videos, doing all those events. Perhaps the strain is getting to you.}

“Maybe you’re right…” Jack trailed off. “I’ve been thinking about taking a break…”

“Really?” Chase asked, interested. “I thought you loved YouTube.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I don’t take breaks, personally. But maybe that’s just me.”

“Oh. Well, then…” If Chase, of all people, still managed to keep to a schedule, with all the problems he had in his life, then he didn’t really have an excuse. “Yeah, you’re right. Stupid idea. I should—should probably get back to recording, actually.” He stood up.

{Capital idea,} Jameson said, giving a thumbs-up. {It’s rather late, actually. We should all go to bed.} He stood up as well.

“Not tired,” Jackie and Marvin said in unison.

“I have work to do.” Schneep looked back down to his paper work.

Chase merely shrugged.

Jameson looked to the ceiling, exasperated. {Well, if you four would prefer to burn the candle at both ends, you are free to do so. Meanwhile, I have business in the morning.}

“Really?” Jack asked.

{Oh yes. The cleaning company is sending a new maid over, and I plan to introduce her to the place. Show her around, where the problem areas are.}

“Ah! Man, those guys must have a quick rotation schedule, or whatever, there’s someone new here pretty often.” Wasn’t someone here most days? Just wandering about…? No, that wasn’t possible. He must be imagining things. Yeah, he definitely was, his vision was swirling in spirals a bit. He really needed to de-stress.

{It’s a big house! Needs lots of professional hands to take care of it!} Jameson bounced, hands on hips.

Jack held back a laugh. “Dude, I can’t take you seriously when you do that.”

Jameson shrugged, then turned on his heel and strode back towards the staircase. Jack followed. As he walked toward the staircase at the end of the hall, he noticed a door. It wasn’t anything unusual, looked just like the other doors. But he didn’t remember having ever been through it.

He stopped for a moment, considering. He’d been here for seven months, how was that possible? For a moment he paused. Then he decided to take a quick peek, just for the hell of it. He crossed to the door, grabbed the knob, and pulled it open.

Behind the door there was another hall. It was unlit, but he could make out the slight shape of a couple doors, and at the very end there was a staircase leading down into darkness.

It was kinda creepy. No, actually, it was very creepy. His breathing quickened, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and his vision became purple at the edges. He quickly shut the door and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. Freaky. Why did they have a place like that in the house? He’d have to ask them. But later. When his hands finally stopped shaking. God, it didn’t matter what it was for, he was never going through that door into such a…a scary place.

Jack opened his eyes, and frowned. He had the strangest feeling of deja vu. Whatever. He pushed away from the wall, gave the freaky door the side eye, and went upstairs. He had more important things to worry about.

He had more important things to do than worry.

He didn’t need to worry.

What was there to worry about?

Everything is fine.

Inverted AU Character Intros: 1/7
A JSE Fanfic
[These are intros for the versions of the guys for my Inverted AU! Inverted is a reverse-morality story where the good guys are bad and the bad guy—Anti—is good. These intros should help newcomers understand just how the dynamics work :) This first one is for Inverted!Chase.]

It was a bar in the rough part of town. That meant it was dimly-lit, had dirty glasses, played bad country music twenty four seven, and had pool tables that were usually surrounded by tough-looking men. The whole place was sketchy, and normally that was enough to warn off everyone but the regulars, who were the type of people who had switchblades up their sleeves and in their boots.

But, at approximately ten thirty at night, a strange man had walked in, plunked down at the bar, and ordered a whiskey. Not one to deny a customer, the bartender had obliged. The regulars, however, had given the new guy the side-eye. He looked harmless: on the thin side, brown hair tucked under a gray-and-red snap-back cap, sad blue eyes. He didn’t do anything but sit and drink. Eventually, the regulars let him be.

Hours passed. People drifted off into the darkness of night. The stranger never left from his spot at the bar. The bartender grew steadily annoyed with him, not only because he was steadily draining his supply of whiskey without any compensation, but also because the other customers were starting to get annoyed. And these customers were not the type of people you wanted to annoy, because then they tended to toss the annoyances through the bartender’s barely-repaired window.

It reached two o’clock. The bartender approached the stranger and said, “It’s closing time, son.”

The stranger looked up from his half-drained glass of whiskey. “Yer not tellin’ that to those guys, over-over there.” He waved vaguely towards a group of five men, sitting at a table in the corner. They were the only other customers.

The bartender glanced over. “They know we’re closing. But I’m not too sure you do.” In truth, the bartender would rather not talk to that group. They were here on a certain business, and he’d learned through the years that it would be better if he just left the room and let them get to it.

“Alrigh’, I’m goin’.” The stranger stood up, a bit wobbly but not as much as he should have been, considering the amount of alcohol he’d drained that night.

“Not so fast,” the bartender interrupted. “How’re you gonna pay for all of this drink?”

The stranger froze. “Pay?”

“Yes,” the bartender said, irritated. “Whiskey isn’t free, you know.”

“I…I didn’…you could pu’ it on a…on a tab, can’t ya?”

“We don’t do tabs here. If you don’t have cash, we can take credit as well.”

“Credi’ cards? In this economy?” The stranger leaned forward. “You think that a-a person like me, drowning in my studen’ loans, would have a credi’ c-card?”

“Well, do you have cash then?” The bartender snapped.

“I loved her, y’know…” The change of subject was accompanied by the stranger slamming the palms of his hands on the surface of the bar. “Damn, I did. I dropped i’all for her, for the kid we werr gonna have…An’ we werr hap-happy for a long time…and then that bitch decided she didn’ wanna deal with my issues anymore, an’ I told her wha’ would happen, oh I warned her, an’ she didn’t lis’en, and she left!” The stranger shook his head, and growled, “Well, I hope she enjoyed what she got, enjoyed wha’ vidyo I sen’ her, because then she’ll come righ’ back, an’ she’ll realize I still want her back an’ that it’s-it’s where werr s’posed to be.”

The bartender took a step back, a little disturbed. The odd mixture of anger and longing in the stranger’s voice was simply…unnerving to listen to. “Son, you still need to pay.”

“Wha’? No, no, no I jus…I jus’ told you why I couldn’! I’m inna bad place righ’ now, please, jus’ take a li’ll sympathy. I can pay ya back later…please?” The shift in his tone was subtle, but noticeable. The wide eyes, the tremble as he talked…he was clearly trying to appeal to emotion.

Too bad this bartender had met people like him before. Too many, in fact. “Son,” the bartender said in a stern tone. “You have three choices: pay up right now, come in the back to wash dishes, or let me call the police.”

The stranger’s eyes widened, like he couldn’t believe he’d failed. Then he leaned back. His hand went to his side. “Alrigh’…I choose the fourth one.” He raised his hand again, and pointed the thing he held at the bartender.

Hastily, the bartender put his hands up. “S-sir, put down the gun. I’ll drop the cost, promise.”

“Pu’ down the gun?” The stranger thought about it. “Nah.”

BANG!

The five men in the corner all stood up in unison. They didn’t run over to the bar, instead they walked slowly, confidently, on a V formation. The leader looked down at the stranger, leveling him with a menacing stare. “You just cost us a safe haven to meet,” he said in a low voice. “You’re gonna have to come with us.”

The stranger shook his head. “No, I don’…don’ think so.”

“We’d rather not make any more stains on the floor, if you mind,” the leader growled. Behind him, the other four shifted, reaching into pockets and below jackets.

The stranger laughed. “Dude, y’think I care abou’ where I die? Nah. I’ll be goin’ downstairs any way ya slice it.”

“Very well.” The five men advanced. The stranger raised his gun.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

A few moments later, Chase sat on the sidewalk outside the bar. Sometimes he wondered how Jackie had any trouble with these guys. Only two of them had been carrying guns. He’d been quick, even in his current, ah, state of mind. Tolerance came with advantages. And then, with the remaining three…well, there was a reason they said to never bring a knife to a gun fight.

Chase took his phone out of his pocket, opened up his contact list, and selected a single name. He dialed the number. On the other side of the line, the phone rang, and rang, and went to voicemail. Chase rolled his eyes. He was probably asleep, but whatever. He could wake up for this. It took three more attempted calls before somebody finally picked up. “Hey, Jack?” Chase said. He began playing up his slur. “C'n you…c’n you come pick me up? ’M at 342 Whittenburg…yeah, I was, why does’t matter?…really? you’d le’ me walk home, on my…on my own? I dun rem’ber the way…nah, dun haf cash…thanks, dude, yer the-the best. ‘M outside, dun need to go in.” With a click, he hung up.

This had been a good night.

Part Nine of the PW Timeline
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a complete series I wrote from July 2019 to July of 2022. Chase, Marvin, and JJ meet up for a fun get-together, but things come to light, and difficulties are had...and it turns out they aren't the only ones having a rough time.]
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Chase’s phone pinged with a text notification. Before he even looked at it, he knew it was Marvin. He sighed, deliberately not reaching into his pocket to get his phone out. Instead, he continued loading dishes into his dishwasher. He had energy for one task today and he was sick of seeing the pile in the sink.

The text tone went off a few more times before Chase had finished. He sighed, putting the last tea mug into the washer and closing the door. He pressed the button to start it before walking over to the kitchen table and collapsing in one of the chairs. Only then did he take out his phone and look at the repeated texts Marvin had sent him.

"Hey you still coming? JJs a lready here were not gonna start without you."
"Hey did you get my last text?"
"Hey are these sending?"
"Chase do you still want to come?"

Chase winced. Maybe he should’ve picked up sooner. Marvin wouldn’t say it, but he got nervous when people didn’t reply. Chase texted a quick reply saying he’d been caught up in something and he was on his way now. Then he sat at the kitchen table for five more minutes before actually standing up and heading to his car, throwing on a jacket and his cap so he’d look a little bit more put together.

It was a Wednesday. He knew this because of two reasons: he had to remember to visit Schneep in two days, and Marvin had texted him last Wednesday asking if he wanted to come over for a little get-together. “Were gonna watch otgw and have cake,” he’d texted. “Consider it a late birthday party :) Yknow, for me kslahfjd” Of course Chase didn’t want to let him down, so he said he’d be there. He promised. He’d resolved that he’d do one task today, and then go over to Marvin’s house for cake. That would be his reward for completing the task.

He arrived fifteen minutes later, parking on the street before walking up to the door and knocking. “Don’t come in!” He heard Marvin shout. Two minutes after that, Marvin opened the door, holding the bundle of cat fluff that was Ragamuffin. “Get in quick, Luna’s got the zoomies,” Marvin said. Chase nodded, and stepped inside.

Quickly closing the door behind him, Chase saw that the house was back to normal, or at least to how it was before Marvin left. There were folded cardboard boxes against one wall, leaning flat against it, but otherwise everything was in order. Marvin’s posters and knickknacks were scattered about as usual. JJ was sitting on the sofa, holding Luna the cat to his chest, even though she was trying hard to wiggle free. Once JJ noticed Chase had closed the door, he opened his arms and let Luna go free. She landed on his lap, jumped to the coffee table, ran across the surface, jumped onto the floor, and proceeded to zoom across the room at breakneck speed. “Are you seeing ghosts?” Marvin asked her in his special I’m-talking-to-a-cat voice. “Do they spook you?” He leaned over and let Ragamuffin hop out of his arms, who huffed and went to sit on top of the snake terrarium.

“Cuties,” Chase muttered. “Anyway, what’s up so far?”

“Not much. We got the cake and plates and stuff out.” Marvin gestured to the coffee table, where a tall chocolate cake sat under a plastic container. There was a stack of three plates, accompanied by knives and forks. “We considered making popcorn, but figured you’d probably want to be here for that.”

“You could’ve gotten started without me,” Chase said, smiling nervously.

“Yeah. But we didn’t. We’ve just been chilling.”

And Chase had kept them waiting. He tried not to visibly wince. “Well, we can get started now.”

'Cake first, then the movie?' JJ suggested.

“Sounds great!” Marvin said cheerfully. He suddenly reached out and grabbed Chase’s hand, swinging it slightly. “Glad you could make it, dude!”

“Hah. Glad to be here.” And he was. Really, he was.

They ended up sprawled across the living room, with Marvin on the sofa, JJ in the armchair, and Chase perched on the sofa’s back like a bird. They’d sliced the cake and started eating, making meaningless small talk. They talked about work for a bit, with Marvin mentioning he was looking for a new job, hopefully something he could preform in. Chase briefly touched on his situation running his own channel and Jack’s, but he quickly moved on; didn’t want to unload everything on the other two. From there, the conversation switched to various games. JJ had been playing Subnautica, so the other two gave him tips and hints. Then Luna ran back into the room, stared at them, and ran back out, so Marvin gushed about his cats for a bit.

Chase had moved back down to the couch and was going in for a second slice of cake—it was rich cake, but his first slice had been pretty thin—when he noticed it. There was a manila folder on the coffee table. One which looked familiar. “Hey.” He picked it up. “Isn’t this the, uh, case file thing? You still have it?”

Marvin shrugged. “Well you haven’t asked for it back. I read through it already, but I’m…doing some rereading.” His brows furrowed, in confusion. “I thought I’d read something recently, wanted to see if it was in that. Do you want it back?”

“No, no, I’m good.” Chase started thumbing through the papers. He didn’t linger too long on any one of them, especially not the ones with photographs. A few words stood out: crime scene, fingerprints, flashes of names.

JJ cleared his throat, and stood up. 'I’m going to make some tea,' he said. 'Either of you want anything?'

“No. But thanks,” Marvin replied.

“Yeah, um, I’m good, thanks,” Chase said.

JJ nodded, and vanished through the doorway leading to the kitchen.

“Do you…think we made him uncomfortable?” Chase whispered to Marvin.

“I…don’t know.” A flash of sudden panic flew over Marvin’s face. “Why, did we say something?”

“I don’t know, he just kind of left suddenly.”

“I thought he just wanted tea.”

“I mean, he could.” Chase looked down at the case file in his hands, folding it closed. “But I think…h-he also seems a bit uncomfortable when we mention Schneep. I guess the last visit he had with him kind of freaked him out. But I think they’d really like each other, you know.”

“Yeah, they have a similar vibe,” Marvin nodded. “Damn, I really need to go see Schneep. I keep forgetting. I say, ‘I’ll put it in my calendar after I’m done with this thing’ and then I forget while I’m doing the thing, so I forget to make a note of it, so I forget to do it all together.”

“God, mood, bro,” Chase sighed, rubbing his eyes. “But at least you managed to see Jack, so that’s something.”

Marvin suddenly snapped over to look at Chase. “How do you know about that?”

Chase paused, confused. “I…was there?”

“You were? You saw me?”

“Um…yeah?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Marvin asked, sitting up straight.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Chase shook his head, now utterly baffled. “I did say something. Multiple somethings!”

Marvin sat his plate on the coffee table. “Well, I guess I didn’t hear you. You should’ve walked up to me instead of just going away, it would’ve been less awkward.”

“Dude! We had a whole-ass conversation!” Chase gaped. “YOU came up to ME first, remember?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?!”

“When we ran into each other at the hospital?” Chase asked. “Remember? I was in Jack’s room, and you came in and said you wanted to talk to Jack so I left? The twenty-first of August? Any of this ringing a bell?”

Marvin held up a hand, asking Chase to pause. He reached inside his pocket and pulled out his phone, unlocking it. A few swipes later, Marvin looked up at Chase with wide eyes. “The twenty-first?”

“Yeah.” Chase nodded.

“Um…Chase…” Marvin said slowly. “I just checked my calendar, and I didn’t go see Jack until the twenty-seventh. You weren’t there at all.”

“What?” Chase just stared at him. “Is…is this a prank? Cause it’s kind of a mean one, bro. My memory’s already shitty enough.”

“I swear to you this isn’t a prank or anything, Chase. I WASN'T THERE.”

Marvin sure SOUNDED serious enough. But he’d always been good at putting on a performance. Chase shook his head firmly, and stood up. “No, I saw you there. Stop fucking…don’t lie to me. I have enough to deal with.”

“I’m not lying to you!” Marvin got to his feet as well. “Chase, I don’t know what you saw, but it wasn’t me!”

“Well I don’t see things!” Chase protested. “I never had before, so why would I start now? Why would I just imagine you being there?”

“I don’t know!” Marvin started biting his thumbnail, but then stopped to ask Chase a question. “What happened when you saw me there? What did I say?”

“This is ridiculous,” Chase muttered. “I don’t know, you knocked on the door, cause I closed it, so I opened it. Then you were like, ‘oh so you are here, are you busy’ and I was like, ‘no, nice shirt, hey it’s been a while,’ and you said, ‘yeah, do you mind if I talk to Jack?’ and I said, ‘no, it’s okay, I’ll wait outside,’ so I waited until you came out and I went in to say goodbye to Jack and then I left too.”

“What shirt was I wearing?” Marvin interrogated. “Why’d you comment on it?”

“I don’t know, it was a green T-shirt, I thought it was a little weird so I said something about it.” Chase shrugged.

Marvin inhaled sharply. “You thought it was a little weird that I was wearing that, when I only wear green for St. Paddy’s Day and I hate the feeling of wind on my skin?”

“I mean, yeah a little, but—”

“I don’t OWN a green t-shirt, Chase!” Marvin suddenly shouted. “You know I don’t like them! You can go look in my closet and hamper if you want, I don’t have anything like that.”

“Well, who was it, then?” Chase demanded. “What, are you saying that someone was pretending to be you—”

Crash!

Marvin and Chase turned in unison towards the sound. JJ was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking very pale. The remains of a ceramic mug were shattered at his feet, tea spilled across the floor. “Jameson?” Chase asked. “Are you alright?”

Jameson was frozen, barely breathing, eyes wide. Marvin took a step forward, reaching out a bit. “Hey, is something wrong?” When Jameson didn’t respond, Marvin walked the rest of the way towards him. “JJ, please, you’re—”

Jameson suddenly turned around and dashed back into the kitchen. Marvin looked back at Chase, then darted into the kitchen as well. Chase hurried to follow.

The kitchen didn’t look any different than usual, so nothing in there could’ve upset Jameson. The closest thing to something out of place was the kettle, sitting on the counter. Nevertheless, Jameson was sitting on the floor, hands braced against one of the cabinets, head tilted down, shaking as he heaved in deep gulps of air.

“JJ?” Marvin hesitated, then approached, getting down on his knees next to JJ. Chase leaned over the both of them, unsure what to do. “JJ, what’s wrong?”

“Ahh!” Chase jumped once he realized Jameson made that sound. “Ahh! Uuh! Hnnm nnihh, annn!” They were sounds of distress, made by a voice that couldn’t wrap itself around words. “Eee! Eh, eehhhn!” Tears were starting to drip from his eyes.

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay!” Marvin held up his hands, as if to keep them both in Jameson’s line of sight. “What do you need? Are you okay with touching?”

Jameson shook his head furiously. “Nnuh, nnnah, nnn—tih-tih-tih—”

“Okay, got it, no touching.” Marvin was careful to keep his voice soft. He looked up at Chase and shook his head, at a loss for how to proceed beyond that.

Chase, meanwhile, was scrambling over his knowledge about what to do when someone was having a panic attack. He’d looked this up before, but…well, he’d never expected to be using these steps with Jameson. Jameson had always been the calm, cheerful one. Chase shook his head. Stop concentrating on the unexpectedness of it, just go. He walked around to Jameson’s other side, slowly sitting on the floor. “Hey Jays, I need you to breathe with me, okay? Look at me. Can you do that?” Jameson managed to turn his head to the side, eyes catching on Chase. “Okay, good. Just watch me and do it with me, okay? In and out. In…” He inhaled slowly. “…and out.” Exhaled slowly. “In…” Inhale. “…out.” Exhale.

After a while, Jameson managed to keep pace with Chase’s breathing. Chase nodded encouragingly. “You’re doing great. Now, you know the 5 senses method, right? Can you do that now? Start with five things you see.”

Jameson pulled away from the cabinet a bit, casting his eyes around the kitchen. His hands came up, and he began to sign, shakily listing things he saw. 'Kettle. Fridge. Cabinets. Marvin. You.'

“Good, good job. What about five things you can hear?”

That one took a little bit longer. 'You. Cats. Fridge. Lights.'

“Very good. Three things you can touch?”

His hands patted the area around him. 'Cabinet. Tile floor. Clothes.'

“Nice. And two things you can smell?”

Jameson’s tense posture had loosened up by this point, no longer breathing as quickly. 'Spilled tea. Marvin’s detergent.'

“You’re almost there. Just one more. One thing you can taste?”

'Cake from earlier.' Jameson closed his eyes, slumping back against the cabinet. 'Thanks, Chase.'

“Hey, no problem.” Chase smiled, even if Jameson couldn’t see it. “Is there anything else you need? Like a blanket or something?”

'That would actually be good.'

“I’ll get one,” Marvin said, standing up and leaving the room.

“Anything else?” Chase asked. “Do you want me to drive you home or something?”

Jameson shook his head. 'I want to keep going like this didn’t happen. Can we just…forget it?'

“Oh, of course.” Chase nodded. “Yeah, we’re all just gonna—just gonna put everything in a box. Then we’re gonna close the box, duct tape it closed, and shove it under a bed. Never to be seen again, unless you want it to be.”

JJ chuckled, opening his eyes. 'Alright, then.'

Marvin reappeared, holding two different folded blankets. “I got a normal one and then I got the weighted one Grandmam got me. Which do you want?”

“Weighted one? That’s new,” Chase remarked.

“Yeah, she just got it when I went to visit. Dude, it’s so great. And I heard it helps with anxiety problems and stuff. So I figured, I mean, if you want, y’know.”

JJ nodded. 'That sounds great. Can we go back to the living room?'

“Yeah.” Chase got to his feet, holding down a hand for JJ to take. “Let’s go. You still want to watch the movie?”

'Of course.' JJ took Chase’s hand, letting him help him stand. 'But technically it’s a mini-series.'

“Movie’s shorter,” Chase said with a small grin. “Now c’mon.”

The show passed in mostly silence, with a break to make popcorn after twenty minutes. Marvin couldn’t help but add commentary, but they didn’t have a conversation through the show as they might have otherwise. JJ remained in his place in the armchair, Marvin’s weighted blanket wrapped around him like a burrito. Once it was over, Chase turned the lights back on, ruining the illusion of them being in a movie theater.

“I love this series, guys,” Marvin said, a big smile on his face. He waved his arms, slapping his legs. “Guys, I love it so much.”

“It’s a good show,” Chase agreed, returning to sit on the couch. “I like the message about being siblings. I could show it to Sophie and Nick, but they’re a little young.” He chuckled. “Maybe in six years.”

Jameson was quiet for a while. His expression was unreadable. Then seemingly out of nowhere, he signed, 'Did you know I was in a car crash once?'

“Wh—” Chase’s mind went blank. He could only gape at Jameson. What—? Why—? Well, sorry, of course, but—what? He realized that this was the true definition of being speechless. He couldn’t think of words, and if he could, he wasn’t sure he would say them.

Marvin, after a stunned silence, cleared his throat and said, “JJ, are you sure you want—?”

'Chase didn’t know,' Jameson signed idly. 'Didn’t I ever tell you? You know I was in the foster system.'

“I—I just—” Chase shook his head. “I didn’t think to…to ask, like…that’s not something you ask someone. Why they were a foster kid, I mean. I…”

Jameson was leaning back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling. 'I suppose that’s fair. I’ve told Marvin, but not you or Jackie. Maybe I should. Yes, that’s what happened. Family car ride. Someone in another car fell asleep at the wheel, head-on collision. Mum and Dad didn’t make it, and I hit my head pretty hard, and now I can’t talk. It’s called acquired apraxia.' He spelled out the second word so there could be no mistaking it.

“That…” Chase shifted in his seat, once again rendered speechless. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Marvin reach forward and pick up the manila folder that was Schneep’s case file. He started flipping through it, probably to avoid feeling awkward. “That’s…awful, Jays, I’m so sorry.”

'Thank you,' Jameson signed. 'You can guess what happened from there. Mum and Dad were the last of their respective lines, so into the foster system it was. Didn’t get out until I was sixteen. Don’t think people wanted kids that were “damaged.”'

“That’s bullshit,” Chase growled. “Kids are kids. If you’re not prepared for a ‘difficult’ one—” He spat out the word like it tasted dirty. “—then you’re not prepared at all.”

Jameson smiled. 'You’re a good dad, Chase. '

“Oh. Um, thanks.”

'Family should stick together, you know.' Jameson paused. 'They should always look out for each other.' He fell silent. The room was filled with tension, thick enough to feel it as you breathed. Jameson raised his hands—

“That’s the bitch!” Marvin suddenly shot to his feet. Chase and Jameson jumped, comically in sync, and looked over at him. “Oh. Sorry, guess I startled you.” Marvin smiled sheepishly. “I just got excited.” He looked down at the case file he was holding. “Were you guys…talking?”

Jameson shook his head hurriedly. He looked like he very much regretted what he was saying, like he’d been in a trance that he just now came out of. He even looked a little…horrified. But he put on a shaky smile. 'What is it, Marvin?'

Oh, I was just—” Marvin opened the file to a spot he’d marked with his finger. “You know Schneep got a new doctor, since the last one disappeared?”

“Yeah,” Chase said. “Dr. Newson.”

“Yes, yes! That’s the bitch!” Marvin nodded excitedly. “I tried to visit Schneep outside of visitors’ hours, and she came out to tell me off for it. I thought her name was familiar, like I’d read it somewhere, and it’s in here.” He pulled a series of stapled papers out of the file, flipping to a specific one and reading it over. “There was this big Christmas incident, with video clues and a search for five people. Three of those people ended up dying, and apparently the third was named Jeremy Newson.” He looked up at the others. “That can’t be a coincidence. It’s not the most common name.”

Chase sat up straight. “Gimme that paper.” Marvin handed it to him. Chase scanned the details of the incident. Which included a picture of the victim, Jeremy. “He does look like the doctor lady,” Chase realized. “Holy shit, how has nobody else realized this?”

“I don’t know, I’m guessing that not everybody looked at this section,” Marvin shrugged. “And the people who did probably didn’t know of Dr. Newson when they read it.”

“If she’s related to one of the guys who Schneep supposedly killed, is that a conflict of interest?” Chase wondered. “Can we sue her?”

“I don’t know, do we need to sue her?” Marvin asked.

“I dunno, she was kind of…” Chase made a vague gesture. “There was a tone issue, when I last talked to her, let’s say that.”

“Tones probably aren’t good grounds for suing.” Marvin’s eyes were alight. “We’d need proof that she was actually doing shit.”

“We don’t KNOW if she’s doing anything, though,” Chase pointed out.

“Can we find out?”

JJ coughed, drawing the other two’s attention. 'I don’t think we should go about suing people willy-nilly,' he said. 'Someone worse could come along, easily.'

Marvin frowned. “I guess.” He paused. Chase handed the stapled papers back to him, and he replaced them in the file, closing it. “You guys want to stick around any more? Or is it time to go home?”

Chase smiled softly. “I’m…I’m ready to go home, if that’s okay.” He was very, very tired. The little gathering had turned out to require more energy than he expected, and he was now into below-zero, in terms of energy. He wanted to lie down forever and never wake up.

“Alright, that’s cool,” Marvin nodded. “JJ?”

'I can stay for some time longer,' JJ said, considering. 'Not too long, though.'

“Got it. In that case, see you later Chase? Text you or something?”

Chase shrugged. “Sure.” He wasn’t sure if he’d answer, but Marvin could just text him anyway. In case.

'Goodbye,' Chase, JJ signed.

“Bye, Jays.” Chase headed to the door.

“Wait!” Marvin looked around. “Where’s Luna? Is she in zooming-toward-the-door range?”

'She’s not in the room, Marvin,' JJ signed with a smile.

“Alright. Go ahead, Chase.” Marvin waved a bit. “I’ll see you later.”

“See you.” Chase opened the door and went outside, quickly closing it behind him in case the tiny cat was indeed somewhere in the room. Once he was in the clear, standing out in the evening air, he sighed. Deeply.

This had been…a lot. A lot he wasn’t expecting. But he was done with it now. Time to go home, get in bed, and not get out.

Chase walked to his car, pulling his keys out. As he unlocked the door, he saw…something. Someone was sitting on a bench on the side of the road, reading a book. Nothing too strange. But he frowned at the figure anyway. This felt…familiar.

He shook his head, and got inside the car. He was just tired. And ready to get home. So he headed in that direction, never noticing how the figure on the bench turned to follow him with his eyes.
.............................................................................................

“You’re gonna break your wrist. Probably.”

“Thank you, Jackie, very help—ow!”

Jackie looked across the room to where Dr. Laurens was. “Told you.”

Laurens hissed. She’d been trying to yank her hand free of the handcuff for the past five minutes, and it was clear by now that it was too tight for her to make any headway. She sighed, shifting from a crouch down to sitting on the floor. Her wrist throbbed. It felt like the metal of the handcuffs had cut into her skin. And her head was pounding again. She watched Jackie silently for a little bit. “Why do you do that?” she asked.

“What, this?” Jackie was doing sit-ups, curling up and down with his hands behind his head. He didn’t stop to go look at her this time. “You’re the psychologist, you should know about how it’s important to keep a routine when isolated. Until you showed up, I had a period of like three months where I saw literally no one.”

“No one?” Laurens asked. “What about…him?”

Jackie faltered. “He…didn’t really talk to me. Well, h-he did for a little bit, but then he gave up, even when I did see him. So…yeah, he doesn’t count.” He resumed his exercise, now flipping over to do push-ups. “Another reason I do this. So I keep in shape and I can kick his ass when the time comes.” He chuckled, but his words sounded a bit…hollow.

“Hmm.” Maybe she should start up an exercise routine too, then. She was already getting bored, sitting on the floor. Sure, she was handcuffed to a pipe, but Jackie was cuffed to a support pillar, and he’d managed to work around that. “You do anything else?”

“Lot of daydreaming. Remembering. I don’t know.”

They fell silent for a moment. Laurens closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, managing to wedge her head between some of the wooden supports to rest against the cool concrete. She let the headache take over, a tiny drum pounding in her temples and forehead.

Some minutes later, Jackie had given up on his routine, and was now lying on the floor spread-eagle, staring at the bare rafters overhead. “So…what did he want?” He asked softly.

Laurens opened her eyes. “He just asked me a bunch of questions. About Schneep, mostly. Wanted to know…well, everything, basically. Everything that I knew about him.”

“You say anything?” Jackie asked dully.

“No. Nothing at all.” It was easiest to stay quiet entirely, refusing to acknowledge him. Not necessarily easy, but easiest. She recalled now that scarred face with its dual-colored eyes, the way he smiled and cajoled and got close. And she shuddered. “He’s not gonna just ask questions forever, is he?”

“Probably not,” Jackie said plainly. He looked over at Laurens just in time to see the blood drain from her face. “Hey, I mean, it might not be you. Might be me.”

“You?” Laurens repeated, aghast.

“Yeah.” Jackie looked back up at the ceiling. “That’s what he did with Schneep…once I arrived, at least. Hah…stupid me, not telling anyone where I was going, just following a lead on where he went. I should know better by now. But I thought…” He trailed off. “…I thought that…it was just Schneep. That he just left after what happened to Jack. I didn’t think anyone else was involved, but guess I found out the hard way.”

“I’m sorry,” Laurens whispered. “He…Henrik DID do those things, didn’t he?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes Anti just wanted help, or for him to hold the murder tools and get his fingerprints all over them.” Jackie folded his arms. “I think it was, like, the first week I got here. Schneep and I got put in a room with some unconscious guy, and Anti told him to kill the guy. Hen didn’t want to, of course, so Anti said that…” He stopped.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Laurens said gently.

“No, I want to,” Jackie said. He took a deep breath. “Anti said that if Hen didn’t kill the guy, then he’d kill me, then the guy. And that he’d do it painfully. I told him not to listen, but then he broke my arm, and Henrik just couldn’t—couldn’t watch it.” Jackie rubbed his upper arm unconsciously. “The guy never even woke up, so there’s that, at least.” His eyes suddenly widened, as if regretting going that far. “Sorry, there’s just something about you that makes me want to talk.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Laurens said. “Which is great. I’m a therapist, helps in work.”

That got Jackie to chuckle. It faded quickly. “Look, you can’t…can’t give him what he wants, okay?”

Laurens stared at him. “I can’t promise that, Jackie.”

“I know. But…just keep that in mind. I-I don’t know.” Jackie rolled over. “I’m gonna go to sleep now. Good night.”

“Good night,” Laurens repeated.

She wasn’t tired. And it wasn’t just because there was only the concrete floor to sleep on. Apparently if you got tired enough, you’d fall asleep anywhere. No, she was busy thinking. She’d been left alone for over two weeks, luckily enough, but it seemed like things were about to change. She…didn’t know how to proceed. She knew she had to get out of here, but how? There was a way, wasn’t there? Because if there wasn’t…she didn’t want to think about it.

She watched the light from the basement window fade, and eventually the buzzing lightbulbs overhead shut off on their own, leaving her in the dark.
.............................................................................................

The door closed. It must’ve opened, but he hadn’t heard that, only the swing of it shutting. His head turned to look in the door’s direction. There was someone in the room now. Did he recognize him? He felt like he did. What was the name?

“Hey, Schneep.”

He latched onto that phrase. Friend. Only friends called him that.

But what if he’s lying?

He hadn’t considered that.

You should be lied to.

Awful, awful, awful.

Not them again. He looked up towards the ceiling. Augen, Augen. They were staring at him, blinking, all different colors. One of them dropped from its spot on the ceiling, dangling by an optic nerve. He flinched back, growling at it.

“Hey, I need you to—”

He growled at the man, too, backing up and pressing against the wall. No closer. Not until he could figure out if he was lying. The man’s uniform looked familiar. A beige outfit with a nametag that he couldn’t read—why couldn’t he read it? Where were his glasses? His hand touched his face and head, looking for where they could’ve gone. They weren’t there. His nails started to dig. Maybe they were underneath, if he could just get under there—

“Hey! Stop!” The man suddenly surged forward, grabbing his wrist. He yelped in surprise, managing to yank it away, hitting the man’s face in the process.

No grabbing! No no no no, this man wasn’t to be trusted if he suddenly grabbed people. Who knew what would happen next? When would the ropes and cuffs come in? “Nein,” he gasped out. He was shaking, breathing coming a bit harder. He could only manage the one word. “Nein, nein, nein.”

“Just calm down.” The man reached forward. As he watched, the man’s features started to twist. His eyes fell out, dripping along his face, his hair darkening.

“Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me?”

It was him. “Nein! Geh weg!” He scrambled backwards, his leg hitting the frame of the bed. Bed! That would be safe, safe place from him. He immediately fell to the ground, scooting backwards until he was mostly underneath.

“I can’t underst

and you.” “What’s

your name?” “It’s so good to see y

ou okay.” “Henrik, I ca

n’t stay like this.”

He hid his face in his hands, whining, blinking against the tears. Where was Jackie? Was he alright? Where was Jackie? Where was Jack?

“YOU KILLED YOUR BEST FRIEND!”

He was laughing at him, laughing, laughing. He screamed, trying to plug his ears. There were hands coming for him, hands reaching, and the laughing wouldn’t stop. He saw eyes, one green and one blue. Smiles in the shadow’s face.

“Come with me, Henrik. Come with me, come with me.”

“Get out from under there.”

“I won’t do it again.”

“C’mon, man. You know I won’t hurt you.”

“What’s your name?”

“I just need you to take these.”

“I’m going to keep you.”

One of those voices might be safe. But maybe not. Better safe than sorry. “Geh weg—!” He kicked at the reaching hands, his own too busy trying to cover his ears. “Get away from me! Shut up!”

Where was he? He suddenly realized he didn’t remember. He was in a room, last time he checked. Did that change? He couldn’t see any walls. It was dark. He remembered being out in the dark once. It was raining. And a man had asked him, “Are you okay? You’re blocking the sidewalk.”

Yes, yes. He remembered. He looked up at the man, and he’d mistaken him for someone else. The man had looked very similar to him, it was an easy mistake. He remembered saying, “Jack? What are you doing out here? In the rain?”

And the man had looked confused. “I’m not Jack.”

And he’d laughed. “Do not try to pull this on me, I can tell the difference between all of you. You should go home.”

The man’s confusion had slid away, right off his face as he adopted another mask. “Right, just running some errands.” The man had smiled. “Didn’t know it was going to rain. What are you doing out here?”

“I…don’t know.” He’d said that. He’d said that because he was in rough ocean waves, untethered from the boat that drifted through reality. He’d said that, and he’d started to shake as distress set in. “Again, again. I-I don’t—”

“Hey, it’s okay.” The man had smiled. It was so similar, so easy—not like the smiles he would give him later. “Why don’t we go to my house?”

And he’d nodded. He thought it was Jack. “You know how I get, thi-this will pass.”

“Yeah, I know.” The man had grabbed his arm, and started pulling, and he’d let it happen. “C’mon, let’s go.”

Was he in the house now? Maybe he was. Maybe the man—he didn’t want to say it, he didn’t want to say it—was in the room, like he’d been that night. The man had sat him down on the sofa, and let him talk and chatter, listening intently…maybe too intently. And eventually he’d fallen silent, and then he realized. “You are not Jack,” he said.

“No, I’m not,” the man said.

“I-I am sorry, I just—you look a lot like him—” Later, he’d wonder why he’d ever mistaken the man for Jack. The man’s two-colored eyes, the scars across his neck and face—ah, that was why. The face was astonishingly close, under those scars. He’d wanted to see Jack. So he’d seen him.

“Is this Jack a friend of yours?” The man had seemed interested. Friendly.

“A good friend, very good friend,” he’d said. And then the tears had risen. He remembered covering his mouth. “I think I did something very bad to him.”

And it all came pouring out, the tale of an accidental operation. The man had stayed quiet through it all. And at the end, he’d seemed sympathetic. “Sorry that happened,” he’d said.

“I need to go back, I-I need to fix it.” He’d been shaking with the need to do so.

“You’re not exactly in a good state to.” The man had smiled again. It looked a bit…different. “But if you insist, I can get you a Lyft or something. You’re welcome to stay here.”

“I need to go back,” he’d repeated. “I need to see, a-at least.”

“Alright. Give me a second, I’ll call someone.” The man had stood up. “It’ll be a while, though. You want anything to drink, or something?”

He couldn’t remember if he’d said yes. But he did remember that five minutes later, the man had handed him a mug of coffee. He’d mumbled, “Thank you,” and five minutes after that, he’d finished it. But something was wrong. Everything was slow, slow, slow-motion record with sound distorted enough to make you dizzy. “I feel…I feel strange…” he remembered saying.

And the man had smiled again. “I know.”

And he’d realized he was in trouble.

Wait, when had something grabbed his arm?

He jolted. He was in that room, that room with the white walls, and someone was grabbing him. He screamed, pushing at that someone, hitting them—him—as hard as he could. Let go! Let go! Let go!

“Calm down, Schneep.” A man’s voice. “It’s me, remember? I just need you to take these.”

He shook his head. No! No, he didn’t know if he was lying! People lied all the time, he lied all the time! Lied until he couldn’t tell if his memories were right or just more false beliefs—there was a word for those, a word, a word—more delusions! He managed to push away from the man speaking, falling back, tripping onto a bed.

“Please don’t make me do this.” The man—he had no face, no face—set something on a table, and he pulled out—

“No! No no no, nein nein!” No more needles! He hated them, they stored darkness inside and put that darkness in his mind. He couldn’t think with them. He pressed back against the wall, pulling his knees to his chest. He grabbed the nearest object—a pillow, it was a pillow—and threw it at the man. It bounced right off.

“I’m so sorry, this’ll only take a moment.” The man quickly closed the distance, and managed to grab his arm. He tried to pull away, but not quick enough to stop the needle. The man quickly backed up. “It’s just a light sedative, it won’t knock you out.”

He curled up on his side, waiting. It had been him, hadn’t it? He didn’t want to say it, he didn’t want to say it. A. That had to be a name he’d given himself, didn’t it? But it had been A the whole time, hadn’t it? Pretending to be someone else, like he always did, changing faces as easily as changing a set of clothes. He wore people’s bodies—he’d felt A in his body, his, making him do terrible things. What did he want to do now? What was the needle this time?

“Okay. We’re good? Good. Look, just swallow these. I’d give you water, but not allowed.”

He felt…he couldn’t put words to it. There were song lyrics in his mind that would do that, describe it easier. He mumbled…scattering sparks of thought energy, deliver me and carry me away.

“I’m so sorry, but you need to take this, okay? It’s going to help.”

He wouldn’t open his mouth. It seemed important not to do that. But there was a fog inside his head, weighing down his bones. So when the man squeezed the sides of his face, he let his jaw drop open. Now there was something—he recognized the feel of this. Little round something. Pill. He remembered he was supposed to eat this, right? Yes, yes. It was medicine, it was supposed to help. He swallowed it. He felt…tired.

“Okay. Good.” The man backed away. “I’ll see you later today, Schneep. Okay?”

That song from earlier had more lyrics. They were stuck in his head now. He murmured some that he remembered. Understand what’s going on inside my mind, doctor I can’t tell if I’m not me. He liked those ones.

“…okay. I’ll see you.”

The door closed again. He was alone.

But he was never alone.

“Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Puppet boy.”

He whimpered, curling into a tighter ball, squeezing his eyes shut. HE was always there.

Part Nine of The Stitched AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a completed fanfic series of mine with 24 total chapters. I started this October of 2018 and finished it May of 2021. Chase has to adjust to some new...changes since he's come back.]
.............................................................................................

Chase was in the bathroom. The bathroom of Jack’s apartment, to be exact. Sitting in the empty bathtub, to be even more exact. Jack and JJ thought it would be best if they all stayed together, and, well, Chase agreed. He didn’t want to go back to a big, empty home. He didn’t want to be alone. But he didn’t exactly want to see the others right now, not after they’d caught him up on everything he’d missed while he was…away.

He scowled. “Away.” That was the word Jack used. He was hesitant to use a stronger one. Honestly, what word would even fit? Kidnapped? Evil? Being used? Something that meant all of those at once? Chase pulled his knees up to his chest and looked down. An instinctive position. Curling up like this protected the face and the most sensitive body parts. He stayed like that, thinking back on the events earlier that day, after they’d all managed to get back to the apartment.

JJ had made dinner. Apparently he’d gotten familiar with the layout of the kitchen in the month he’d been alone. But even that, even something as simple as eating dinner had proven to be a challenge for the three of them. Jack had immediately scarfed it down, but he hadn’t been able to eat much before he started to feel nauseous. He’d excused himself, practically rushing to the bathroom. That just left Chase, picking at his food, with JJ.

“Hey, uh…” Chase didn’t look directly at JJ, but he did look in his general direction. “How did you get around the, um…” He gestured to JJ’s mask. “I mean, with the doc…well, I don’t know exactly what’s up with him now, but…he’s not doin’ his job at the hospital, I know that much. So how…?”

In answer, Jameson had stood up, walked over to one of the kitchen cabinets, opened it and taken out what looked like a fat syringe. He waved it at Chase, then put it back and sat back down inside.

“Oh,” Chase said, surprised. “I thought…I mean, you have to get those from the hospital, and you…need good reason. Did you…make something up to tell them?”

Jameson shook his head, folding his arms in an uncomfortable manner. At that moment, Jack walked back into the room. “Hey, I heard that last part,” he said. “And, uh, well, Hen’s ID wasn’t deactivated, since they think he’s just on vacation, so…it still works to open the doors and stuff.”

“You’re STEALING the shots from the hospital?” Chase asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I mean, what else are we supposed to do? We can’t let JJ starve to death because of what that fucking demon did.” Jack took his seat at the table again. “And speaking of starving to death, I thought…I thought you said you were hungry. You haven’t touched your food yet.”

“I’ve been touching it.” Chase stabbed his fork into the chicken, as if to prove this point.

“That doesn’t mean you’ve been eating it.”

Chase looked away. “I mean…I think what just happened to you is proof that…I dunno, hard to adjust again.”

“Chase.” The tone in Jack’s voice was enough to make Chase look back at him again. The new, brighter blue eye gave his stare an almost lopsided appearance. “You’re gonna have to at least try. You look like hell, and I can tell you’ve lost a lot of weight. You’re not gonna get better again if you don’t eat.”

He tried, really he did, but he just…”Can you…tell me that I can?”

“You don’t need permiss—” Chase didn’t say anything, just gave stared at him with a pleading expression. Jack’s eyes widened, and he leaned back slightly. “Yeah…yeah, you can eat.” Chase’s shoulders immediately slumped in relief, and he didn’t have any trouble from that point on.

What happened after they ate, though, was tough to get through. Chase demanded to see Schneep. He wasn’t sure what state he was in now, and he needed to know. Jack and JJ had exchange a worried glance at his demands, but they still showed him to the guest room where Schneep was…staying.

He didn’t know what he expected. But it wasn’t this. This still, limp body, with eyes blocked out by static that overflowed into tears. He’d been hooked up to an IV and a heart monitor, also presumably stolen from the hospital. And he was still wearing the same clothes he’d been that day. Chase sat down hard in the chair the others had placed next to the bed. This was somehow worse than all the scenarios he’d been imagining. No change at all hurt more than seeing things get worse.

“Hey, doc,” he whispered, reaching out and grabbing his hand. It was warm, which surprised him. “I’m sorry about all this.” He turned back towards Jack and JJ, who were hovering in the doorway. “Has it…has it been like this the whole time?”

Jack nodded. “A few months. Bit over three, to be exact. We…don’t know how to fix it, or what happened, or what’s wrong with him.”

“Why don’t you ask me?” Chase asked dryly.

Jack blinked. “What do you—?”

“I was THERE, Jack. I was part of this, this is—” He stopped himself from saying this was his fault. He knew that it wasn’t. But…god, how could it not be? If he’d just been a little bit stronger, if he hadn’t fallen for Anti’s tricks in the first place, this never would have happened. He swallowed through the lump in his throat. “I saw what happened. He told me what this is.”

Jack walked over to stand next to Chase, and put a hand on his shoulder. Chase immediately shrugged off the too-heavy weight. A flash of hurt crossed Jack’s face, but he covered it immediately. “Well…anything would help,” he said softly.

“…right. Yeah.” Chase looked back at Schneep and his blank eyes. “What happened…I was supposed to get him away, to the place he’d set up for this…this purpose. And…” Chase shuddered. “Anti…he can’t affect someone unless they’re in a mentally weak place. He can force inside, that’s what he calls puppeteering, it’s what happened to you on Halloween. But…to really mess with them…”

“You don’t have to go into details if you don’t want to,” Jack hurried to say.

“I—alright. Alright.” Chase took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them slowly. “But he…he…what he said happened to Schneep is that…his soul was separated from his body.”

“What?!” Jack glanced at JJ. “Is that possible?”

JJ furrowed his brows, confused, then shook his head, making a strange gesture with both hands. “That’s ‘die,’” Jack translated. “You’d die without a soul?” JJ nodded.

“Well, if the soul was just left there,” Chase said. “But…he put it somewhere. I—I don’t know where, but it was something to do with TV screens. Or maybe that’s just how he accessed the place.” Chase remembered walking the empty halls of that underground maze. Sometimes there was a TV screen in the eye-ridden walls. He’d walk past it and hear…something that almost sounded like a person…“ ̴ ̢ ͠ ͝ ̷̢ ̕͠ ̡͢ ̡ ̛͢ ̢ ̕ ̵̛͢!̸̕ ̡̧ ̨ ̛͠ ͡ ̕͠ ̵̕͟ ͏͞ ̧͠ ͟ ͏͏ ̷͟ ̨̕ ̨ ̢͢ ̷͢ ͠͏ ̷̴ ͠!”

“Can we…can we undo it?” Jack sounded afraid of the answer.

Chase shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Silence for a moment. And then, “Well, we know more than we did before. That counts as progress!” Jack said, forcing a note of cheerfulness. “Now we have good ol’ knowledge, we have those books that could maybe help us, we can meet him on his own level.” JJ straightened, nodding optimistically.

“I guess it’s better than where we were before.” Chase let go of Schneep’s hand—why was that so easy, he should’ve wanted to hold on longer—and stood up. “Maybe…we have a chance…” he said reluctantly.

Jack smiled. “That’s the spirit!” He pulled Chase into a one-armed hug. Chase squeaked, and wiggled out of it, backing back toward the door. Jack gaped at him. “Chase, what—what’s wrong? You’ve never…I mean…”

“I-I’m going to the bathroom,” Chase said, stepping past Jameson, who was giving him the most peculiar look, and into the hallway. “I’ll-I’ll be back.”

And that was how he ended up here, in a ball in the tub, wondering what the fuck was wrong with him. It wasn’t enough that he’d helped put one of his best friends in a coma, he had to be repulsed by his other best friend just trying to comfort him.

He tried to tell himself that wasn’t what was happening. But he couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. When Jack had tried to hug him, it felt like his skin was about to crawl off his body. The weight of his arms had been stifling, suffocating. And the feeling of being pressed against another person made his breathing stop and his brain go crazy with the need to just get away.

Chase curled up tighter. It wasn’t always that way. He used to love hugs. What happened?

'You don’t hate me, Chase. I’m your fr̨i͟͏e͝n̛d̵.'

Chase shuddered. Anti. Anti was what happened. For a demon, he’d been awfully touchy-feely while Chase was with him. If he wasn’t off doing…whatever it was demons did, or making Chase…he didn’t want to think about what Anti made him do. But if neither of those more pressing engagements were underway, Anti would show up. He’d wrap his arms around him, tightly, and wouldn’t let go. His favorite thing to do was touch the stitches on his neck, gently stroke them. Chase had thought it felt…nice…at the time. Now he shuddered, remembering it.

He uncurled from his position, climbing out of the tub and walking over to the counter with its mirror. He leaned over the sink, staring at his own reflection. Jack was right. He did look like hell. In fact, he almost didn’t recognize the thin, pale face with dark circles under its eyes and brittle hair tangled and faded at the ends. But there were two things that affirmed it was actually himself he was looking at. The dirty cap that he still wore, mostly out of habit now, and the green stitches wrapped around his neck. Contrary to the rest of his appearance, they looked as clean and pristine as the day he gave them to him.

Chase gritted his teeth. He could feel them. They were itching, grabbing at his skin. Around his wrists, too. He held up his hands, examining the stitching there. There was a small, loose end dangling from his left wrist, half an inch long. Before he could stop to wonder if this was a good idea, he snatched the end, and started pulling. And kept pulling. The sensation of thread rubbing against his skin, being pulled from somewhere INSIDE, made him want to scream. But he kept at it, until the string was about the length of his forearm. And then it stopped. He tugged, and no more string came out. It just felt like something was pulling his wrist along.

There was another loose end on his right wrist. Chase repeated the process, and got the same result. He whimpered. There had to be something else he could do. There had to be, he couldn’t just be stuck with this, stuck with him, forever.

He looked back up, catching the fearful eye of his reflection in the mirror. He watched his reflection’s hand reach up, feeling the stitches on the neck, causing his reflection to shake at the sensation of fingers on its stitching. The reflected hand made its way around the back of the reflected neck and back to the front again, where its fingers brushed against a dangling string. The fingers seized the string, and slowly, steadily, a length of green thread unreeled. Simple as pulling out a vein. Until it stopped, and all Chase could feel was that—that TUG.

'You’re being d̶͞i͟͟ffi͞c̷ul̛̕͢t on purpose, Chase. Come on, be good for your fr̴̢i̴͠en̨d̴ or I’ll have to dr̶a̶g̛̕͞ you b̢͠e͢h͞ind̴̕ ̡͟me̵.'

Someone was knocking on the door. He heard it, but he didn’t listen to it. He was too busy clawing at the stitches, nails catching on thread as he tried desperately to get them off, get them off, get them off. If he could just get under them, if he could only get them away from him, everything would be okay. He wouldn’t have been so weak, Anti wouldn’t have used him, his friends wouldn’t have been hurt by him, he wouldn’t be such a fucked human being—

The door must’ve opened at one point, because now someone was trying to pull his arms away. He resisted, naturally. That was what you do, you resist the pull during those moments when you’re aware enough to realize you’re being yanked along down empty red halls. There was blood on his neck and under his nails, and the stitches weren’t coming out. He wasn’t breathing. Or if he was, it was so shallow that it didn’t register. And the stitches weren’t coming out.

His hands were finally taken away from his throat, warm hands wrapped around his fingers so they couldn’t wiggle back. He stopped trying at that point and just stood there, gasping. Chase realized there were tears in his eyes only when he had to squint through them to see who it was who’d stopped him. Dark blue eyes, a darker blue mask. Jameson.

“I—I can’t, I c-can’t,” Chase gulped. His cheeks were wet. “I c-can’t, I just—I j-j-just want—”

Jameson didn’t say anything, obviously. But Chase realized his eyes were watery with unshed tears. After a moment, during which Chase tried his best to recover his breath, Jameson let go of Chase’s hands and reached over to the mirror, swinging it open to reveal the medicine cabinet behind it. He plucked out a box of Band-Aids and held them out to Chase.

Chase took the box, giving Jameson a confused look. JJ responded by tapping his own neck. After a moment, Chase opened the box and took out a Band-Aid, carefully removing the paper covering. He took a moment to steel his nerves, then put the Band-Aid on his neck, over one of the spots that was bleeding. JJ nodded encouragingly. Chase stared at him for a moment more, then sat down on the toilet seat, steadily making his way through the box as he used up Band-Aids fixing the bleeding. After he was sure every spot was covered, he looked up at JJ.

JJ’s eyes squinted in a way that meant he was smiling underneath the mask. He held his hand out toward Chase. Chase instinctively shrank away, holding his wrists closer to himself, but when the hand didn’t come any closer he slowly relaxed, and took the offering. JJ pulled Chase to his feet, and gently led him out of the bathroom and into the apartment’s second bedroom. Normally that was where Jack slept, but Jack had been gone for a month, and it looked unused when JJ flipped on the light.

Chase looked around. “I thought…you would’ve been sleeping here. While you worked on getting Jack back.”

JJ shook his head. He walked over to the room’s dresser, pulling open the bottom drawer. After a moment of rummaging around, he started pulling out what looked like loose cloth until he had a pile of it, which he gathered up and dumped onto the bed. He beckoned for Chase to come see. Chase slowly crept over.

It wasn’t just a bunch of loose cloth. It was…scarves. And bandannas. A variety of styles and colors. Chase gave JJ a wide-eyed look. “What’re…?”

JJ tapped his mask, right over where his mouth was. It clicked for Chase then. Of course JJ would know something about the stitches. Of course he would understand why Chase was trying so frantically to pull them out, to no avail. He’d been living with them for longer than Chase had. And his had caused quite a bit of inconvenience, too.

Chase sat down on the bed and began sorting through the pile. “Heh. Why does Jack have so many?” he muttered. He pulled out a piece of purple. The color was quite nice. And it was a bandanna, no loose dangling ends. He tied it around his neck, fully hiding the stitches from view. Then, he noticed his wrists, and held them up for Jameson to see. He gave him an inquiring look.

JJ folded his arms, thinking, then walked right back over to the dresser and opened a box on top of it that looked like it had never been opened before, at least not regularly. He pulled out a yellow headband, threw it away, then showed Chase what else was in the box: two matching wristbands. Chase nodded, and JJ tossed them over. Chase caught them easily and quickly pulled them on, tucking the loose string inside. “I…I think I like this,” he said quietly. “Thanks, JJ.”

JJ smiled again, then jerked his head toward the bedroom door as if to ask, Are you ready to leave? “Not…yet,” Chase said. “I want to change clothes. These are kinda a mess. Do you mind?” JJ nodded, and left.

A few moments later, Chase reemerged from the bedroom. JJ, who’d been waiting outside the door, gave him a thumbs up. Chase returned that with a small smile. He felt at least a little better now. Not back to normal, but not…like it was with him.

The two of them walked down the hall and came out into the living room. Jack was curled up on the couch, also in a new set of clothes, staring at nothing. The moment they walked in, his head snapped toward him. He did something strange: he closed his left eye, the normal one, for just a moment. He smiled, and opened it again. “Hey, dude,” he said, his tone falling somewhere between gentle and casual. “Are you…okay now?”

Chase leaned against the nearest wall. “No. But…I’m not as bad.”

“That’s okay. It’s…gonna take a while. For all of us.” Jack took a deep breath. “Look, I’m…I’m sorry about what happened back there. The, uh, hug thing.”

“What?” Chase blinked, surprised. “No, you don’t have to be sorry. I shouldn’t’ve freaked out on you.”

Jack shook his head. “No, I made you uncomfortable, and that sucks. I’m the one at fault here. I didn’t know it would make you upset, but the fact of the matter is that even if I didn’t know, I still need to apologize. It may have been an accident, but it…it hurt you. And I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Chase stared at him. He could feel the tears coming again, just a different kind now. “Thanks, man.” He took a deep breath, then crossed over to the couch and sat down. He was on the other side, and he wasn’t at all eager to get closer to Jack, but…he didn’t want to be alone right now. JJ followed him into the room, taking his place leaning against the wall. He made some gestures that Chase didn’t understand.

“What is…?”

“He’s wondering what to do next,” Jack translated. “It’s sign language. We, uh, only came up with it after…he took you. And, uh, Chase.” Jack made eye contact with him. “It wasn’t your fault. None of it was. It was all him.”

Chase felt the urge to explain. “I mean…if I hadn’t been taken, then Doc wouldn’t be—”

“He probably would,” Jack said. “Remember December last year? JJ and I think maybe Anti was trying to get him in this same sort of…coma, whatever, but wasn’t quite strong enough. He’s been trying for a long time, Chase, and if he hadn’t been able to use you, he still would’ve found another way. Chase, you’re not the bad guy here. You’re the victim. And you need to stop taking blame that isn’t yours to take.”

Chase made a strange sound, part whimper, part squeak, part sigh of relief. He…he needed that. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. I’m not the bad guy. I’m the—I’m the victim.” He flinched automatically, saying that, expecting retaliation for saying he was hurt. Of course, it didn’t come. And…it felt good to be able to say it. “But…JJ’s right, what are we going to do next?”

Jack glanced at JJ. “Well, we need to figure out what could be happening to Henrik’s soul. And then we need to see if there’s a way back. And then, if there is, we need to get it back so he’ll wake up.”

“That’s only three things,” Chase muttered. “Not too hard when you say it that way.”

JJ laughed a bit at that, a muffled sound. He held out his hand, and a blue circle flared into existence, spinning on the fingertips briefly before fading away. He looked at the other two, then flexed his fingers again as if to say, we have this.

“Yeah, that could help,” Jack said, picking up on the unspoken message. “I know you don’t know what it is, but you know how it works?”

JJ nodded.

“Didn’t you guys say you had some magic books?” Chase asked. “I think I remem…shit!” He bolted upright. “JJ, I stabbed you! Fuck, I’m sorry about that, I-I know it wasn’t me, but I still feel like to need an apology—”

JJ held up a hand to still the flow of words. He nodded in understanding, and Chase practically wilted with relief.

“Yeah, we have some magic books,” Jack said. “Four, wasn’t it?” JJ nodded. “Maybe something could help us in those.”

“I guess the next step is researching, huh?”

“No, the next step is bedtime.” Jack pointed at the digital clock hanging on the wall. “I dunno about you, but I’m gonna sleep for the entire next day.”

With the mention of sleep, Chase was suddenly aware of how exhausted he was. How exhausted he’d been for a long long while. The adrenaline must’ve been wearing off finally. “I…I don’t think I can be alone,” he whispered.

“Then we can all sleep in my room,” Jack said. “I know I have a ton of spare blankets and pillows. We can make a nest on the floor, or two people can sleep on the bed together.”

“Dibs on the nest,” Chase said. “Do you…mind if I’m by myself?”

“Of course not, Chase,” Jack said gently. “JJ and I can take the bed. That’s okay with you, JJ?” JJ laughed, then gave a thumbs-up. “Then it’s settled.”

Night fell. The city continued on its business outside. And for the first time in months, the three of them slept soundly.