Part Eight of the PW Timeline
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a complete series I wrote from July 2019 to July of 2022. Marvin and JJ have a short talk, but it happens at the same time Marvin seems to be talking with Chase...something's going on, and it may have something to do with the new, but familiar, face we meet.]
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“Luna, no, stop bothering your brother.” Marvin, carefully balancing a bowl in one hand, reached forward and tried scooting the small black cat away from the terrarium with the other. Said cat looked up at him with big yellow eyes. “Don’t give me that look. He’s probably trying to sleep. You’re annoying him. Go.”
After a few more careful nudges, the cat, Luna stood up and jumped off the table. She stalked to the open doorway, where she proceeded to flop down on her side and stare at him, not moving at all.
Marvin scowled at her. “I will step over you. You are tiny.” He turned back to the room at whole. It looked kind of bare, despite being back home for almost a week. He had yet to take all his knickknacks and posters out of the boxes and put them back up around the room. But the furniture—sofa, armchair, coffee table, table for the terrarium, and television—was all where he’d left them. The room hadn’t changed. The walls and furniture were still shades of blue, his gold stars still painted on the ceiling. And he could still eat his pasta while sitting on the sofa like he wanted to.
He set his bowl down on the coffee table and proceeded to flop down on the sofa before remembering he left his drink back in the kitchen. He sighed, and stood back up. And then the doorbell rang. Well. At least he was already standing up. He walked over to the front door, glanced through the peephole, and then opened it. “Hi JJ.”
'Hello.' JJ was standing on the doorstep, bouncing awkwardly. 'I hope I’m not bothering you.'
“No, it’s fine, I was just about to have lunch.” Marvin shrugged. “You want to come inside?”
'Please.'
Marvin stepped aside to let JJ walk in. Before he entered, JJ bent over and picked up a gift bag he must have set down earlier. Once he was inside, JJ held the bag out for Marvin to take. Happy late birthday.
“Oh!” Marvin took the gift bag, looping his arm through the handles. “I thought you forgot.”
'No, I’ve just been busy,' JJ signed, looking sheepish. 'Sorry, I know I said I was going to help you unpack and such a few days ago. '
“It’s fine. I mean, I don’t think I can ever say anything about people leaving now that I’ve gone and…you know.” Marvin laughed. It came out a little forced.
JJ glanced around the living room, noting the boxes still sitting around with stuff inside. 'Do you still need help?'
“Yeah. How’d you tell?” Marvin kicked the nearest box. “How’s it feel to be the only one in the group with executive function that actually works?”
JJ chuckled. 'By the way, I think your cat is trying to steal your noodles.'
“Wha…?” Marvin spun around. “Luna Void! Get away from there!” He quickly crossed the room, picking up the black cat just before her paw dipped into the bowl. “That’s human food, not cat food. And I just filled your bowl, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
Luna meowed.
Marvin shook his head, glancing around the room. He noticed a big ball of white and brown fluff sitting on the armchair. “Here, play with Ragamuffin.” He set Luna on top of the fluff ball, which meowed and lifted its head, revealing itself to be a ragdoll cat, mostly off-white with a brown tail, face, and ears. “Shush, you love her, Muffin.” Ragamuffin meowed again as Luna flopped across him. Marvin looked back at JJ. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
'I love them,' JJ signed happily, eyes locked on the two cats.
Marvin laughed. “You can come by to see them any time. Your building still have the rules about pets?”
'Yes, sadly.' JJ sighed. 'Not even Mr. Purple Snake is allowed.'
“Hey, Crowley isn’t purple, he’s lavender,” Marvin corrected. “Purple makes it sound like he’s the same shade as that thing from McDonald’s, while lavender is the actual name of the morph.”
'And he has stripes.'
“Exactly, he’s a striped lavender snake,” Marvin said, nodding.
'Fits you perfectly,' JJ commented. 'Anyway, are you going to open your present now or later?'
“I can do it now,” Marvin said, grabbing the gift bag off his arm. He sat down on the sofa, searching through the tissue paper. JJ took a seat next to him. After pulling out all the paper, Marvin reached into the bag and pulled out a golden heart-shaped locket. His eyes widened. “No way.” He turned the locket over, noticing a small key, which he wound a few times. The chimes of a music box started playing. Marvin looked up at JJ. “Oh my god. Oh my god. I thought this was a collector’s item, how did you find one?”
'Someone was selling it online,' JJ explained. 'I know you really like the game, so I thought you’d like it. He looked hopeful. Well…do you?'
“Fuck, of course I do.” Marvin lifted the locket to his ear, listening to the familiar melody. “Oh my god. Oh my god, JJ. Thank you so much.” Words weren’t enough to describe what he was feeling, so Marvin grabbed JJ’s hand and squeezed it tight, swinging it a little. He let go sooner than he would’ve liked to, so JJ could respond if he wanted.
'I’m glad,' JJ signed, beaming. 'I wanted to get you something that meant a lot, since it’s been a while since I’ve seen you.'
“Yeah…yeah, it has, hasn’t it?” Marvin rewound the music box as it slowed down. He suddenly felt his eyes well with tears. He turned away from JJ, rubbing his eyes.
JJ picked up on it, of course. 'Are you okay?' he asked, concern lining his face.
“Fine.” Marvin’s voice cracked on the single syllable. “I-It just…fine. I’m just…a lot of things have happened.”
Jameson scooted closer. 'Do you want to talk about it?'
“No,” Marvin said, perhaps a little too fast. “I’m good.” He didn’t want to explain this to any of them. He wasn’t sure what they’d think of him if they knew. It might just be better if he kept silent about it. Part of him whispered that they’d want to know why he left eventually, but he…he didn’t think he was brave enough to listen to that part.
JJ looked at him oddly. 'You sure?'
Well…there was a smaller thing that he thought was safe to talk about. “Well…” he said slowly. “You know, Schneep and I really liked this game.” He squeezed the locket under his hand. “It was kind of our thing. He joked that it was his birthday gift, since it, y’know, came out the same day. The two of us were the only ones who liked it for a long time, and we kept fucking badgering Jack to play it on the channel.” Marvin smiled. “No joke, we one time spent two hours straight just talking about it.” The smile faded. “I just…I miss him, I guess.”
Jameson didn’t say anything for some time. Then: 'I see,' he signed. 'But he’s back now, isn’t he? You can go visit.'
“Yeah, I know that, like intellectually,” Marvin explained. “But I-I don’t know, I guess I’m nervous. That something will go wrong. Y’know, Chase told me what happened at the last visit.”
JJ bit his lip. 'Well. That might’ve been because of me. I think that he just freaked out because…he thought I was someone else.'
Was that what happened? Chase had said that JJ somehow caused Schneep to freak out, but he hadn’t mentioned it was because Schneep thought he was someone else. “Still,” Marvin said, and then fell silent.
'You can go with Chase, if you want, for support,' JJ suggested.
“Maybe,” Marvin said slowly. “Maybe I should just go today, just jump in impulsively.” He…he did really want to see him. “Maybe Chase can come too, he can drive me.”
'I think Chase has something to do today,' JJ said.
“Really? What?”
'I don’t know.' JJ shrugged.
“Maybe he’s filming or something,” Marvin wondered out loud. “Would you want to come, if I went to see Schneep today?”
Jameson immediately paled. 'I don’t think that’s a good idea, given how he reacted.'
“He could’ve forgotten,” Marvin suggested.
'In a few days?'
“I don’t know, it’s possible. He used to complain a lot about how he didn’t have a strong sense of…time.”
'Well, I’m still not sure it’s a good idea,' JJ signed slowly. 'Besides, I have work this evening.'
“Oh yeah,” Marvin recalled. “You still working for, uhhh what’s-his-face? Mr. Paddington, or something?”
JJ smiled. 'Mr. Patterson,' he signed, spelling it out. A'nd yes. Are you still working at the boutique?'
Marvin’s face fell. “No.” He paused, then continued in sign. 'I got fired. About a month before I left.'
Jameson’s mouth formed a small 'O shape. I’m sorry.'
'It’s fine, I hated retail anyway,' Marvin signed dismissively.
For a moment more, they just sat there. 'I think your cats are fighting,' JJ signed after a while.
Marvin looked over at the armchair and watched as Ragamuffin shoved Luna off the seat. “They’re fine, Muffin’s just grumpy.”
'Ah.' Jameson hesitated, then signed his next string of words super-fast, as if shoving out his idea before he started to regret it. 'You know, if you ever want to talk to someone, but not one of us, like, someone more serious about things that are…difficult, then I can give you my therapist’s number.'
Marvin looked vaguely surprised. “Wait, you go to an actual talking therapist? Like for issues and stuff? I thought when you mentioned therapy it was, like, speech therapy.”
'I tried speech therapy, it’s never worked,' JJ said dryly. 'And at this point I don’t think it will. But I’m fine, not willing to try any sort of operation to fix the damage.'
“Hey, I didn’t say anything. Wasn’t even thinking it,” Marvin assured him.
'Some people do,' JJ signed, a bit bitterly. 'But yes, an “actual” therapist. I suggested it to Chase, too.'
“Oh, that’s good. He could use that.” Marvin fell silent. “I-I don’t know. I’ll think about it.” He wasn’t sure he would go through with it. He wasn’t sure how to explain to anyone about…all of this. Especially a therapist. He wasn’t sure he could trust them to not call the police.
JJ smiled. 'That’s enough. Now, are you ready to actually have me help you unpack?'
“Oh shit I completely forgot about that,” Marvin said, sitting up straight.
'Maybe I could come back after you’re done with lunch,' JJ suggested.
“No, you’re here, let’s do it now.” Marvin hadn’t forgotten about the lunch, at least. Though he did realize his pasta was getting cold. He pulled the bowl towards him. “We can eat together first. I made too much spaghetti, there’s still some in the kitchen.”
'Oh. Thank you.'
“No problem. Let’s both go there, I don’t trust the cats to leave us alone anymore.” Marvin shot a look at the two cats, Ragamuffin sitting, satisfied, in the armchair while Luna zoomed around the floor.
'Good idea.' JJ stood up. He paused. 'I’m not sure if I’ve said this yet, but…it truly is good to see you again.'
Marvin smiled; he hoped it wasn’t strained. He looped the locket’s chain around his neck, the gold heart settling against his blue shirt. 'Thanks,' he signed. 'Good to be back.'
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Chase had something to do. Something he’d been neglecting for…god, it must’ve been three months now. The thought made guilt curdle in his stomach. It’s been far too long. A lot had happened, but that wasn’t an excuse.
It was another hospital. Not like the one Schneep was in, more of what you would usually expect when you heard the word “hospital.” Still, the check-in procedure was basically the same. Though this one didn’t have a visitors’ room. You were allowed to see the patients in their rooms here.
Even though it had been a while, Chase still remembered what room number it was—309—and what section it was in—ICU. He pushed open the door, and saw nothing had changed in the months since he’d been there. He walked inside, taking a seat in the one chair in the room, next to the bed. He took a deep breath. “Hi, Jack.”
As usual, there was no response except for the beeping from the heart monitor. Jack looked pretty much exactly the same. Eyes closed, oxygen mask strapped to his face. Chase couldn’t remember what was actually wrong with him, just that the doctors said Jack would either come out of it in time, or not at all.
“I know it’s been a while. Things have been…kind of tough lately,” Chase said slowly. “Um, they found Schneep. I-I don’t know how you’d feel about that, given…you know…” He waved vaguely at the bed. “Him and this whole situation. I-I still don’t think he meant to. I think he might’ve just been a bit…confused. You know how he gets. Maybe he was off his meds that day. Anyway, he’s in Silver Hills now. You know that place. I think it’s good that he’s there, it could really help. Apparently they also think he killed some people? Which I was surprised to hear, I never would’ve thought…” Chase trailed off. “I-I don’t think it’s his fault, really.”
He paused there for a moment, eyes tracing the line on the heart monitor. Steady. That’s good.
“Also, Marvin’s back. I don’t know where he went, he said he went to live with his grandma for a while. Probably true, but I just know there’s something else. Anyway, I’m not gonna ask him too much if he doesn’t want to talk about it. I don’t want him to…you know, shut down or anything.”
Another pause. Breathing was steady, too. It always was.
“And Stacy called me, too. I thought she was mad at me, or something, but, uh, turns out she’s not. Which is great. She just was having some work troubles and was kinda stressed, and I guess she was just too busy. But she’s doing okay, now. She quit working at the school, now she’s somewhere else, uh, I don’t remember the name but it apparently pays better. She does something with graphic design, which you know, she’s always wanted to. And Sophie and Nick are great, too. They’ve started this thing called reception this year, which I guess is like preschool for England. I dunno, I’m some dumb American. They sound like they’re doing okay. Everything’s…everything’s doing okay…”
Chase blinked back tears. Why was he crying? He wasn’t sad. He wasn’t…anything, really. He felt kind of…gray. But there was one thing he could feel that wasn’t just…gray. “I miss you,” he choked out. “I…I miss you a lot, Jack. I’m sure a lot of people miss you. I’m still trying to keep your community alive, but…well, I’m not you. It’s not the same thing, watching someone else run it.” He rubbed his eyes. “God, this is stupid. I’m stupid. I was just telling you how everything’s okay. And it should be. It should be. Everything’s getting better, just a little bit. Maybe that’s why the things that aren’t…they just seem worse. I miss you. I miss Jackie. I’m…I’m tired, Jack. I’m always tired, I-I can’t do this.” He didn’t know what ‘this’ was.
Someone knocked on the door to the room.
Chase sat up straight, furiously swiping away tear tracks. He stood up and walked over to the door. He opened it to see Marvin standing there.
“Oh. Hi, you ARE here,” he said. “I thought, ‘cause the door was closed…are you busy?”
“No, no, come in, it’s fine,” Chase hurried to say. He stepped aside. “Um, is that a new shirt? I didn’t think you liked to wear green.”
Marvin looked down at his T-shirt. “Yeah, it’s new. Not one of my favorites, but whatever.” He walked inside, stopping by the side of the bed. He looked down at Jack with an unreadable expression. “He looks so…small.”
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Chase said. Marvin hadn’t been one to visit often before he left. But he supposed his time away changed a lot of things.
Marvin nodded. “Yeah.” He looked up at Chase. “Were you…doing something, or…?”
“No, I-I was just—it’s fine,” Chase stuttered.
“Cause I…I kind of wanted to talk to him.”
“Yeah, of course, I-I’ll wait outside.” Chase hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him. He took a deep breath.
He really needed to get back into practice with these visits. Maybe then he wouldn’t start crying every time. But…well, maybe a different set of visits had taken up space in his mind.
Waiting outside the hospital room, Chase turned his thoughts to Schneep. He wondered how he was doing.
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The answer to Chase’s wondering was “not so good,” as proven by the interaction that took place across town, a little over two hours after Chase ended his visit.
Oliver hadn’t been prepared for anything like this in all his years working this job. He hadn’t been prepared for this entire case. The past few months had been a roller coaster that threw all his expectations out the window. He might’ve been inclined to reexamine those expectations, if he wasn’t too busy at the moment trying to keep peace in…well, in what was starting to look more like an argument than a therapy session.
Which was how most of these sessions were, now that Dr. Newson had taken over for Dr. Laurens. Oliver wasn’t sure what Newson had against Schneep, but there must’ve been something, because this was definitely not normal. In just a few days, Oliver had gone from standing in the corner of the room during these sessions, to standing right by Newson and Schneep in the center, looking back and forth between them so that he didn’t miss anything…potentially dangerous to either of them.
“You are asking too many questions!” Schneep growled. “Why should any of this matter to you?!”
“I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell me how to do my job,” Newson retorted. “You’re not that kind of doctor. In fact, you might not even be that at all.”
Schneep bristled. “Excuse me? You insult me enough, do you have to bring something completely untrue into this?!”
“All I’m saying is that delusions are a common symptom of your condition,” Newson said with a sickly sweet smile. “Maybe you just thought you were—”
“Fick dich und deine Vorfahren! You do not come into here and dismiss years of my work and study like this!”
“I can come in here whenever I want! I’m in charge!”
Schneep burst into laughter. “And you are doing such a wonderful job of it! Do you have nothing better to do than yell at me for an hour?!” His head tilted to the side. His hand shot to his neck, fingers starting to claw at skin. Oliver reacted immediately, grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand back. Schneep didn’t even notice. “Because that is really all you are doing!”
“Alright, fine.” Newson took a step back, straightening her jacket. “Let’s do something else, then. We can work on uncovering the inner motivation for you killing thirteen people.”
“I did not k—!”
“Yeah, I know, you think something made you do it,” Newson dismissed. “Well, the fingerprints on the murder weapons would tell a different story. Do you think you needed some sort of control? After all, things hadn’t been going so well in your personal life, with your job and your wife.”
“Shut up about Mina,” Schneep growled. “We were doing fine.”
“Hmm, yet I haven’t seen her in the visitors’ room yet. Or even heard from her.” Newson flashed a smile.
Oliver thought that was a bit too far. “Um, Dr. Newson, do you really think—”
“That is none of your business!” Schneep suddenly screamed.
“Of course it’s my business! How am I supposed to do my job without getting into your life?”
“That is not what you are doing! You are needling me for no reason! Why?! Is this fun for you?! I am tired of being fucked with by people and their sick games!” Schneep’s other hand darted forward, reaching for Newson. Oliver grabbed that one, too.
“Well, that’s the pot calling the kettle—” Newson suddenly stopped, being interrupted by a beeping noise. She looked down, and grabbed the pager off her belt. She quickly read the message, and sighed. “We’re going to have to cut this short today.”
“Good,” Schneep snarled. “I was about to tear your tongue out.”
“Now, you don’t want to be doing things like that, or you could spend the night in the quiet room again,” Newson said, folding her arms.
Schneep suddenly paled. He pulled his hands out of Oliver’s grasp and backed up, into the bed. He grabbed the pillow and hugged it to his chest, burying his face in it.
Oliver wasn’t sure why Schneep had such a strong reaction to the quiet room. Well, there was the stigma about having a room with padded walls, that was pretty much empty except for a bed. Oliver wasn’t about to pretend that popular culture hadn’t put its mark on that. But for some reason, even mentioning it made Schneep shut down entirely.
“Oliver, follow me,” Newson said. She turned on her heel, leaving the room. Oliver stood there for a moment more, then hurried to catch up.
“What is it, Dr. Newson?” he asked as they walked down the halls.
“What is what? The incident I’ve been paged about, or the reason why I asked you to come with me?”
“Um. Both, I guess.”
Dr. Newson sighed. “Lily just paged to tell me there’s some sort of commotion at the front desk. She’s new there, I guess she’s never had to deal with this before, so she appealed to the highest authority. Anyway, I wanted you to walk with me so we could talk about Henrik’s medication.”
“…alright,” Oliver said, confused. “Well, Dr. Laurens gave him a new one two weeks ago, since the other one apparently wasn’t effective.”
“I know that,” Newson nodded. “But it’s still not up to a full dosage.”
“Well…no,” Oliver admitted. “Laurens wanted to get him off the old one first, then get him used to this new one.”
“Well, I think he should be used to it by now,” Newson said dismissively. “We can up it to full. And we should give him a stronger tranquilizing agent, as well, I don’t think this one’s working too well.”
“…I see,” Oliver said slowly. He had to admit, he wasn’t an expert on this sort of stuff. It was why he was an orderly and not a doctor—well, that and the obvious lack of an actual doctorate. But he knew a bit about the medications, and… “Dr. Newson, aren’t there side effects for the current medication? Isn’t that why he has to get used to it in the first place? Are you—I don’t mean this the wrong way, but, are you sure he’s ready?”
“Of course I am.” Newson nodded once, firmly. Her eyes were burning. “I’m letting you know so you won’t think anything’s out of the ordinary when you pick it up tomorrow.”
“…alright.” Oliver didn’t want to say anything bad; he didn’t want to lose his job, and to be honest, Dr. Newson was a little intimidating. But he wasn’t sure her motives were entirely pure. Still, he kept silent. With Laurens gone, Schneep needed an ally.
“Here we are, the front desk,” Newson said, pushing open the door. Oliver hung back, watching the scene. Lily Travels, a relatively new doctor, was manning the desk, trying to calm down a clearly upset man, who…looked familiar. If it hadn’t been for the long wavy hair held back in a ponytail, Oliver could’ve sworn that he was—
“Hello, is there a problem here?” Newson asked pleasantly.
“I want to see someone,” the man said. “I looked up your hours on your website! But she keeps saying that he’s not available!” The man’s voice was loud and distressed. He kept touching the cup full of pens on top of the desk, playing with it.
“Sir, please put that down,” Dr. Travels said weakly, in the tone of someone who’s been asking the same thing for a while.
The man sharply withdrew his hand. And then immediately took five pens out of the cup and started chewing on the end of one of them. Dr. Travels sighed.
Newson looked the man up and down. Recognition flared in her eyes. “Sir, what’s your name?”
“Marvin. Marvin Maher, I wrote it on the clipboard,” the man said, still chewing on the pen.
“Mr. Maher, put down that pen, or you’ll have to pay for it.” Marvin immediately dropped the pen. “Who are you here to see?”
“His name’s Henrik von Schneeplestein.”
Newson nodded, her suspicions confirmed. “Well, Dr. Travels is right, he’s not available.”
“What?!” Marvin gasped. “Then—then why the fuck does your website say I can visit him now?!”
“Visiting hours for residents on the first floor are only on Fridays,” Newson said calmly.
Marvin paused, pulling at the collar of his blue shirt. “Well, why couldn’t you put that on the website?”
“It is on the website, Mr. Maher.”
“I didn’t see it,” Marvin grumbled. “Maybe your website layout fucking sucks. And how do you know where Schneep’s room is?”
“Well, I am his doctor,” Newson said pointedly. “And even if I wasn’t, we have a database where that information could easily be found.”
“You’re his…?” Marvin paused. “Sorry, what’s your name, again?”
“My name is Dr. Newson.”
“Oh.” Marvin’s face scrunched in confusion. “But I thought Dr. Laurens—no, wait. I remember now, Chase said she…oh, that sucks.” He paused. “Newson? Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Is that, like, a common name…?”
“I suppose not,” Newson mused. “But if that’ll be all you wanted…” She gestured towards the front door.
Marvin stared at her. “Um…‘if that’ll be all I wanted’ what?”
A flicker of annoyance temporarily broke Newson’s professional facade. “If that’ll be all, could you please exit now? Dr. Travels has more to do.”
“Oh! Yeah, sure.” Marvin turned around, took a few steps towards the entrance, then stopped and turned back. “So, are you, like, famous or something?”
The annoyance was replaced by surprise. “I don’t think so.”
“Not even locally?”
“Well, I suppose that depends. Why?”
“I think I read the name Newson somewhere,” Marvin muttered. “Something, like…it had something to do with Christmas, I think.”
For a brief, very brief moment, Newson’s face cracked in two, her expression falling to the ground, replaced by something of loss. She quickly recovered. “I wouldn’t know about that. Now if you’ll please.” She gestured towards the entrance again.
“Yeah, yeah. Bye, I guess.” And with that, Marvin left.
Newson straightened her jacket again, and without another word, spun around and walked past Oliver, deeper into the building.
Something was up here, and Oliver had no idea what. He was sure Laurens would’ve known something, but she wasn’t here.
With a sigh, Oliver also backed deeper into the building. He had more to do today.
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Her head was pounding. It felt like her brain had solidified into rock, and was being thrown against her temples.
“Hello?”
She felt like a pile of noodles. Limp and weak. All her bones were gone.
“Hey lady. A-are you alive?”
Where was she? The thought passed through her head like it was swimming through fog. The last thing she could remember…the last thing she could remember…
“I mean, you’re breathing. But I…I don’t know how awake you are. Been there for a while.”
She was at her car and…and there was that man. She thought he was Chase, but…maybe he just looked like him…
Something hit the back of her head.
Laurens opened her eyes, immediately squeezing them shut again. God, her head was pounding. Not because of the thing that hit her, that felt small and light. What was it? She cracked open her eyes again, just enough to see that she was staring at a vaguely gray wall…plaster, but unpainted. She was lying on her side, the floor cold beneath her. She groaned.
“Oh good, you’re awake. Are you okay?”
That voice…it sounded kind of familiar. But from where? Laurens didn’t answer, just groaned again.
“I’m gonna take that as a no. Who are you? How did you get here?”
Laurens squeezed her eyes shut, tears starting to rise as a blinding pain shot through her temple. She moved her arm, but found something yanked her wrist back. So she raised her other one, waving it in the direction the voice was coming from.
“Oh.” The voice was whisper-shouting now. “Should I shut up?”
She gave the voice a thumbs-up.
“Alright. Sorry.”
Laurens wasn’t sure how long it took for the hammer to stop pounding an anvil into her head. It felt like a long time. If she was forced to guess, it was fifteen minutes until it was manageable and she could open her eyes. And it felt like another half an hour before she was able to roll over and face the room at large.
She immediately recognized it as a basement—an unfinished one, with rafters overhead, dangling lightbulbs, and pillars holding up the ceiling. There were random squares of carpet on the concrete floor, but none near where she was lying. There was a door in one wall, and a small, rectangular window high on the opposite wall, with no light coming through it. A short folding table was pressed against another wall, and nearby a boxy television sat on top of a wooden pallet crate. Overall, the room was about the size of an average living room.
“Are you okay now?”
Her eyes rolled towards the voice. There was a man sitting against a support pillar on the other side of the room and—and she immediately realized why his voice was familiar. Slightly higher, and a different accent, but she understood now. The man had shoulder-length brown hair, a beard, and wide blue eyes. He wore a dirty red hoodie. This whole group…they all looked and sounded alike, didn’t they?
“Should I stop talking again?” He asked.
Laurens blinked. “No, you’re good.” Her voice rasped.
“Okay. Alright.” The man visibly relaxed. “Are you, uh…I mean, you’re probably not doing okay, but how do you feel?”
She considered this. “My head hurts,” she finally said. It sounded inadequate.
“Hm. Yeah, I think it would.” The man pursed his lips. “You, uh. Don’t look good.”
“Thanks.” She pressed a hand to her temple. The other one was still caught on something. “Who’re you?”
“My name’s Jackie.”
“Jackie Donovan?”
His eyes widened. “How do you know my name?”
Laurens tried to sit up. The pain in her head spiked, but she was able to prop her head on her hand. “My name’s Dr. Rya Laurens. I know your friend Schneep.”
“You do?!” Jackie sat up straight, but then hesitated. “Like, do you work with him? Have…you seen him recently?”
“Yes,” Laurens confirmed.
Jackie’s eyes lit up. He leaned forward. “How is he? Is he good? What happened?”
“I’m not sure ‘good’ is the right word for it,” Laurens mumbled. “You’re probably thinking right now that…that I work with Schneep at his hospital, the one where he was a surgeon. I don’t. I work at Silver Hills.”
“Oh.” Jackie leaned back again. He bit his lip, thinking. “That’s the, uh, psych ward, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s a mental hospital, it’s not the same thing,” Laurens said.
Jackie seemed to cringe. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“So, uh…” Jackie shifted where he was sitting. “H-how is he? Are they taking care of him?”
“I mean, I suppose so,” Laurens said. “I’m his therapist. I’M certainly trying to help, but I can’t speak for everyone. And I don’t know what’s happened since I…” She frowned. “What day is it?”
“Um…” Jackie glanced over at a nearby section of wall, one within arm’s length of where he was sitting. Laurens suddenly noticed the marks on the plaster, done in what looked like blue marker. Tally marks, divided into roughly eight groups. “I think it’s the twenty-first? Of August.”
Last she checked it was the fifteenth. “It…it’s been a week,” she realized. “I don’t remember any of it.”
Jackie nodded. “That happens sometimes. Let me guess, it’s all a blur? You sort of remember being, like, aware but not thinking anything?”
“…that…yeah.” Laurens shook her head, then immediately stopped; it was making her headache worse. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here?”
Jackie laughed hysterically. “I mean, your guess is as good as mine! If it’s been a week, he probably wants you alive! Unless he just hasn’t gotten around to it yet! By the way, can I have my Sharpie back?”
Laurens was confused, until she looked around the nearby area and saw a blue Sharpie on the ground. She picked it up and threw it in Jackie’s direction. The throw went wide. By a lot.
“Fuck,” Jackie swore. “Hang on.” He reached out to the Sharpie, leaning forward, but wasn’t quite there. With another muffled curse, Jackie crawled towards it. And it was then when Laurens noticed the cuff around his ankle, connected to the nearby pillar by a very short length of chain. Realizing this, Laurens looked back at her other hand, the one that kept being yanked back. And no wonder. She was handcuffed to a pipe.
“Got it!” Jackie grabbed the Sharpie by his fingertips, retreating back to his spot by the pillar. “Sorry. I just don’t want to lose this.”
“It’s okay,” Laurens said softly. “I get it.”
Jackie pulled at the sleeves of his hoodie. “So…I know you said you haven’t seen Schneep for a while, but how was he the last time you saw him?”
Laurens thought about that. “He was getting better. He’d just gone through a bad episode, though, so not 100% good.”
“He recovering?”
“Yes, as far as I could tell. I got him new medication, but hopefully it would decrease his symptoms.”
“Symptoms?” Jackie frowned. “Oh. Yeah, I guess he has been unmedicated for some time. Best to take care of that, before dealing with everything else.”
Now Laurens frowned. “Wait, everything else?”
“Yeah? I stopped seeing him in—” Jackie glanced at the tally marks again, counting. “—May, and you’re a therapist, so. You know. Everything else.” He waited, but Laurens still looked confused. “Um…you know. Being kidnapped isn’t going to leave someone okay—”
“Wait, he was kidnapped?!” Laurens repeated.
“Yes! Why do you think—look around at this place!” Jackie gestured at the room. “Do you think either of us are here because we want to be?! The hell did you THINK happened to Schneep?”
“I don’t know, he wouldn’t say anything about it, but the police assumed he left of his own—”
“Wait wait wait,” Jackie held up a hand. “So…the police don’t know about him?”
“Of course they know about Schneep. How could they not, after all…” Laurens hesitated. “You know. The things that happened.”
“No, I wasn’t talking about Schneep.” Jackie insisted. “I was talking about…him.”
The way he emphasized the him…it reminded Laurens of the way Schneep would talk. “Do you mean…the thing Schneep’s been hallucinating about?”
Jackie looked shocked. “So. They don’t know, then? Wait, do they think Hen did it all by himself?!”
Laurens looked at Jackie, puzzled. “He…didn’t?”
Jackie buried his face in his hands. He didn’t say anything for a while. “Oh my god,” he finally said, words muffled. They sounded almost like a sob. “You don’t know. No one knows, do they?”
Laurens sat up. She was beginning to figure out that things were a lot more complicated than she thought. But maybe now she could get some answers for everything. “Know what. Who…who is this he?”
Jackie looked up at her. His eyes were red, like he was about to cry. Like he’d realized something. Maybe he realized that, if the police didn’t know what was going on, there wasn’t a good chance of either of them ever being found.
“He calls himself Anti.”
