Part Eighteen of the Inverted AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a fic series I wrote from December 2018 to August 2021. Attempting to move on, Jack finds that he isn't as okay as he thought he was. Meanwhile, the others still continue to search for him, though Jackie is just as reluctant.]
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“You’re not allowed to come.”

“W͡h͏y ̡n͠ǫt?”

Jack sighed and looked up at Anti, who was standing near the hotel room’s window and twitching sporadically. He looked calm, but Jack could tell he was upset by the way the static in his voice crackled. “Because…” Jack mulled over his thoughts, trying to find the right words as he gathered his phone and the room key together. “This is…my thing, you know? My friend, my hanging out with him. I just…need some time that can be my time.”

Anti relaxed, just barely. “Okay. That makes sense.”

“Besides, you didn’t really seem to like him that much anyway.” Jack laughed under his breath.

“It’s not that I didn’t like him. It’s that you need to be safe.” Anti looked out the window to the street below. “And you never know. Mark seems to be a decent guy, though.”

“He’s really nice. And he’s dedicated, and funny, and he’s really talented. God, I wish I could do some of the things he does on his channel.” Making friends wasn’t easy when you lived with a bunch of criminals intent on controlling your life. But Jack had made do.

“Yeah. He seems like it,” Anti repeated absentmindedly. “If anything goes wrong, if anything happens, you text me, okay? You know the number I’m using?”

“Mm-hmm.” Jack tucked his phone and the room key in his hoodie pocket. “But what could happen?”

“L.A. is a dangerous city. I was checking out the local news and events yesterday and today, and though it’s not n͞e͞arl͝y͢ as bad as Mirygale”—Anti was referring to the city Jack had lived in before, the one where the others were still based—“it still has problems. I swear, there’s a shop on the edge of the city that’s run by a pair of demons.”

“Demons exist?” Jack couldn’t hide the shock in his voice.

Anti rolled his eye. “Not the sort of demons you’re thinking about. It’s just a certain type of being, not religious in any way. Though they can steal your soul if you’re not careful. Those two seemed mostly passive if they’re even demons, but avoid it just in case.”

“Uh…okay then.” Jack didn’t know why he was surprised. His two best friends were a living glitch and a sentient eyeball, and he personally knew a magician and a telepath. Anything was a possibility. “Anyway, I’m leaving now. I’ll text you if I see demons or anything.”

“Great. I’m going to stay here with Sam and keep an…eye on things.” Anti chuckled.

Jack groaned. “Oh you did not.”

“I did.”

“Great, now I HAVE to leave. See you tonight, Anti, Sam.”

“Goodbye, Jack,” Anti called. Sam said goodbye too.

“Bye, guys.” Jack left, closing the hotel door behind him with a gentle click.
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Mark opened the door soon after Jack knocked. “Oh hey, Jack!” He initially went in for a hug, but stopped when he saw Jack leaning back. “So, you found the place okay?”

“Yeah, uh, Google Maps was very helpful.” Jack switched off his phone and put it back in his pocket.

“Google is always helpful. Oh, come in.” Mark stood aside and let Jack come into his house.

Jack looked around. “Wow. Bigger than I expected. A bit more modern than hom—than the one I’ve been staying in for a while. Anyone else live with you?”

“Just Amy. She’s out now, though, so we have the whole house to ourselves. What d’you want to do?”

“Uhh…” Jack’s mind went blank at the question. It’s not that he wasn’t used to wanting things, it was that he wasn’t used to people asking. He had to take a moment to regain his footing. “Is it weird that my mind first went to playing video games?”

“Nah, man, not at all.” Mark shrugged. Then he looked excited. “Oh hey, we could record a video together while you’re in the—”

“NO!”

Mark jumped. “Oh jesus, dude.”

Jack bit his lip hard enough to make it bleed a bit. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. Guess I really am loud, huh?” He laughed, the sound a bit wobbly and nervous. “If…if it’s okay, I don’t really…I’m not really up for videos. And I probably won’t be for a while. I’d rather just do something for fun. If it’s okay with you.”

“Well, you could’ve said that without blowing out my eardrums, my god.” Mark laughed, sounding a lot more carefree and confidently than Jack had. “It’s okay, dude. Burnout is real, and it’s kinda nice to do something for yourself. C’mon, we can hook up the PlayStation or something in the other room.”

Jack sighed under his breath as he followed Mark. Yes, burnout was real, but Jack was more concerned with the fact that if he did a video with Mark, it wouldn’t take too much digging for people to find out where he was. They’d have a city right away. And then they could come, they could find him, he didn’t want to go back, he just wanted to be safe—

He noticed he was starting to breathe quickly, almost hyperventilating, and he took a moment to control it. This wasn’t the time. He was going to have a good, fun time here, and nobody was going to find him. He realized he’d suddenly stopped walking, and that Mark was looking at him peculiarly. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, just…felt a little dizzy for a moment. Is there an altitude difference here?”

“I dunno. Maybe. Did you get enough sleep last night? I sometimes get dizzy if I don’t sleep well.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” The response was automatic, and Jack hated it the moment it came out. “No, I mean, I slept pretty good. I woke up once for a phone call, but that was it, slept like a log for the rest of it. Actually, maybe I’m having jet lag and that’s making me tired. Yeah, that’s probably it. I’m good.”

“Uh…okay, if you’re sure.” Mark looked a bit off-balance after that rush of rambling words. “Just…tell me if something…I dunno, happens, okay? If I need to give you a ride to your hotel. Or I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.”

“I don’t need first aid,” Jack said, maybe a bit too quickly. “But…thanks. I just want to have fun and play games.”

“Well, I can help with that. And, uh, anything else you need. Now, let’s actually get the games out, why the fuck don’t we?”

Not a lot of co-op games were coming out with split-screen recently, so the two of them ended up mostly playing just a couple small games, then taking turns playing a single-player game. Even though they weren’t doing much, really, Jack was enjoying himself. Mark was just as giggly and random as he’d always been, and the minutes flew by with both of them laughing their faces off.

But even now, there were moments when everything became very cold and still. When Jack would think idly about how much this reminded him of the game nights they had back home—and then remember that the house had never really been a home at all. Home was a place of warmth and trust, of comforting memories and knowing you were always safe. And all those feeling had been a lie, back in that house. He tried to snap out of those moments quickly, to keep Mark from worrying, from asking questions that were well-meaning, but that Jack couldn’t answer right now, not when it was all so new in his mind.

After a while, they somehow ended up in the kitchen. Mark had vaguely mentioned a couple fun videos he’d done with some friends of his, and next thing they knew they were standing at the counter, which was covered in flour and batter, and the two of them were breathless from laughing. “This is ridiculous,” Mark wheezed. “This is stupid, we’re so stupid.”

“Yes, yes we are,” Jack agreed, wiping his floury hands on his jeans. He glanced toward the glass doors. “Oh, wow, it’s getting dark. Hey, what time is it?”

“I dunno, check your phone.” Mark was busy trying to brush the flour into a pile that could be easily swept up. “Or there’s a clock on that wall there.” He pointed.

Jack opted to look for the clock, not wanting to get more white powder on his black pants. He expected one with a digital readout, it would match the modern feel of the rest of the house. Which is why he was sort of surprised to see an analog clock, with the hands and everything. Was it just him, or was their something weird about said hands? The second hand wasn’t ticking along, it was moving steadily, continuously. A constant red line spinning and spinning and…spinning…and…spiraling…the movement was sort of…relaxing…he was starting to feel kinda sleepy…

“Jack, are you okay? Jack? Jack!”

A hand came out of nowhere, snapping fingers in front of his face. Jack was immediately jolted out of his relaxed state. He startled…and then he screamed.

“Jack!”

He stumbled backwards, running into the counter. His hands were covering his eyes, pressing down. “No. No no no no, please, don’t, I don’t want to, no no no, please, PLEASE—”

“Jack! Jack, it’s alright, it’s okay.” The voice was there. The voice was there, it wasn’t in his head. Someone’s hands were on his shoulders, steadying. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Jack stopped trying to backpedal further, only to realize that he was shaking. Just a little bit. His breathing was shaky too, and he decided to start with that, in…out. Again and again. “…I’m fine,” he said quietly. “I’m good now.”

“Are you SURE?” When Jack nodded, Mark asked, “Are you ready to open your eyes now?”

And with that, Jack realized he was still covering his eyes. “Just…give me a moment.” He had to calm his thoughts down. He was in Mark’s kitchen, on the other side of the world. None of them were here. It was okay to look, nothing would happen. He repeated this to himself a couple more times before he finally peered out from between his fingers.

“What happened, man?” Mark’s face was drawn with concern. “I’ve never…you’ve never freaked out like that before, at least not that I’ve seen.”

“It…I’m fine—I’m okay.” Because he was okay now. Not fine. ‘Fine’ was a bad word, it was a mask for when things were not okay but you hoped they would be. “I just—your clock reminded me of something.”

After a tense moment, Mark nodded. “Okay. Wait right here, I’m gonna go get something.”

Jack fully lowered his hands, watching as Mark walked around the counter and started raiding the random papers stacked on the table in the dining room joined to the kitchen. After a moment, Mark found what he was looking for, and returned. “I knew I left one in here,” he muttered. “Here.”

Mark was holding out a small rectangular piece of paper. Jack stared at it for a moment, then reached out and took it, snatching it away like he was scared he’d try to take it back again. It was plain white on one side, but on the other there was an address, typed on the card in a goofy pink font. “What is this?” he asked.

“It’s uhhh…” Mark ran his hand through his hair, looking for the right words. “Look, I can tell you’re going through something. Or maybe you WENT through something, and you’re still trying to adjust to it. That’s the address for…a place that could maybe help you out. You don’t have to check it out, but just in case. I know the guys who run it, they’re very nice, a little weird, but pretty good people. And if there’s…I dunno, someone out there who…I-I dunno, but you can’t find the house without the address.”

Jack stared at him for a moment, then looked back at the card and reread the address. He wasn’t the best with directions, especially not in this new and strange city in this new and strange country, but he was 70% sure this was some ways out of Los Angeles. “Guess it…can’t hurt to keep it in mind,” he said slowly. He looked back up at Mark. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Mark smiled. “You’re my friend, I’m here for you if you ever need to talk or anything.”

“Well…I could use a ride back to the hotel?” Jack said hesitantly, turning the statement into a question.

Mark laughed. “Of course, dude. It’s getting dark anyway. Things get weird in the city after dark.”

“Yeah, I heard it was dangerous?” Jack asked, following Mark out of the room.

“I guess kinda. But I mean weird. Like, WEIRD. And I know, because I know some of the people causing the weird.”

“That’s stopped sounding like a real word now,” Jack said, smiling.

“ ‘Weird’? Yeah, isn’t it…weird?” Mark burst out into a fit of giggles at that. “That’s not funny, I don’t know why I’m laughing.”

“No, don’t worry about it, it just means you’re a happy person.”

“I prefer giggly bitch, but same thing.” Mark grabbed his car keys. “Same hotel I dropped you off at yesterday, right?”

“Yep.”

“Let’s go, then.”
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Sam immediately attached themself to Jack the moment he walked in the door, bopping around his head before settling on top. “Hey buddy,” Jack laughed. “You’re excited.” Sam told him that they were just glad he got home safe and sound, and that it was good to see him. “Aw, good to see you too. I missed you.”

Anti materialized on the couch, laying down, distorting the air around him. “So, how was it?”

“It was…fun,” Jack said, sitting on the couch near Anti’s feet. “And…helpful.”

“Helpful?”

“Yeah, uh, Mark gave me this.” Jack took the card out of his hoodie, tossing it over to Anti, who caught it effortlessly. “I…started freaking out at one point, and he got that out, and he said it was a place that could help me. With that whole…freak-out thing.”

“Huh.” Anti squinted at the address, then tossed it back over to Jack, who fumbled before catching it. For a moment, he became a static shadow, the air tasting metallic. Then he was mostly solid once again. “They have a website.”

“Of course they do, everyone has a website.” Jack set the card on the nearby table while Sam slunk down from their perch on his head to settle against his neck, nerve-tail curling up.

“They’re called The House. Your friend Mark has done some charity streams to help raise money for them, in fact. They’re pretty vague about what exactly it is they do, but you can either go there for a visit, or stay there for an extended period of time if you, and I quote, ‘are trying to get away from something or someone.’” Anti scowled. “I tried to hack into the site for more info, but they have…a re̸a̷ll̷y good firewall.”

Jack fake-gasped. “Has the great Antisepticeye finally met his match?”

“Oh, shut up. You didn’t feel this, it was almost like it was alive.” The two of them sat in silence for a moment, Anti staring at the ceiling while Jack patted Sam. “Are you…going to go check it out?” Anti asked after a while.

Jack thought about it. “I…don’t know. Maybe. If…they ever catch up with us, it would be good to have a second place to go to. Or if something else bad happens.”

“You think they’ll find us?”

“No!” Jack took a deep breath. There was no need to be so snappish. “I mean…I hope not. But there’s a…possibility. And I want to ignore it, but I don’t think I should. I just—look at these guys. Jackie’s admitted to hacking into things before, Schneep’s smarter than he seems at first, Marvin has fucking magic, and Jameson—” Jack swallowed nervously. “I don’t know, I don’t trust a guy with telepathy and a-a bleeding watch that hypno—that…you know.”

Anti had perked up near the end there, and was now sitting up. “Say that again? A blee̷d̕i̢n͟g̨ watch? What do you mean?”

“I didn’t tell you about that?” Jack shrugged, nearly dislodging Sam. “I mean, I was probably seeing things. I was scared and paralyzed, and the room was dark.” Anti stared at him intently, and Jack sighed. “Well, I told you about when I shot him, right? I thought…for a minute, it looked like the blood was coming from the watch. But it was probably just splashed on…it…” he trailed off. “Except I didn’t actually hit him. I only hit the watch.”

Anti was buzzing with excitement, literally, pixels and white noise breaking away. “I need to check something for a minute. Be right back.” And he glitched away completely.

Jack stared at the spot where he had been for a moment, then looked down at Sam. “You wouldn’t happen to know what that was about, would you?”

Sam swished their tail. They told Jack that they had something of an idea, but they weren’t completely sure. Still, they felt uneasy.

“Yeah…me too.” Jack frowned, thinking. Then he shook his head. “Well, we can ask him about it when he gets back. Meanwhile, while he’s gone, the TV can work properly. Want to see what’s on?”
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Jackie was upset.

It wasn’t too hard to tell. Jackie was the sort of person who was always very vocal about their feelings. Schneep had long ago noted the signs of an upset Jackie. But this was like everything had been ramped up. Practically every remark had a bitter bite behind it, a snapping always a pin drop away. He ran through the house without even bothering to look for others in his way, stomping up and down the stairs. Occasional fights with Marvin had escalated to a full-time battle, at best fought with fiery words and at worst fought with actual fire.

No, on second thought, Jackie wasn’t upset. He was pissed.

Schneep was sitting in the living room, listening to the fight that was floating down the staircase. He couldn’t tell what had started it, hadn’t been paying attention at that point. But now, he was already massaging his temple where a headache was starting to blossom.

{Do you want to break that up, or shall I?}

It took Schneep a moment to realize that voice was one of the important ones. He twisted around, peering over into the kitchen where Jameson was busy making tea. “You sound like you would rather not,” he called.

{Well, truth be told, yes,} Jameson admitted. {Jackie’s not too fond of me right now, but he still likes you. And you get on with Marvin, too, so it seems to work out.}

Schneep groaned, resting his head against the couch cushions. “I do not even understand why he is so angry. And the good doctor does not like to not understand.”

{I doubt anybody does. Do you want some ginger tea? It’s supposed to help with headaches.}

“That would be nice, yes.” Schneep didn’t ask how Jameson knew his head was hurting. At this point, he expected Jameson to know a lot of things about him.

Jameson entered the living room, carefully balancing a tray with two teacups in one hand and holding a teapot in the other. He slowly set both on the coffee table and poured the tea before settling down on the other half of the couch. {I can try to explain to you why Jackie’s mad, if you would like.}

“I would like that very much.” Schneep took one of the cups and sipped. The headache didn’t immediately go away, but at least it tasted good.

Jameson glanced up the stairs, as if he could see Jackie and Marvin bickering at the top. {Well, you see, Jackie doesn’t want Jack to come back.}

“What? That does not make sense, they are friends, are they not?”

{Well, Jackie certainly likes Jack. He wants what’s best for him. And he thinks that Jack is happier by himself, so he doesn’t like that the rest of us are trying to get him to come back.} Jameson carefully sipped his tea. It was a bit strange, to hear a voice talk while the person was drinking, but by now everyone in the house was used to it.

“Ah. I see.” Schneep stared down at his cup. “IS Jack happier away?”

{Well, let’s look at the facts. He certainly…ah, freaked out on us just before he left.} Jameson unconsciously reached over to his vest, where the watch was tucked inside. {But he left in the company of the glitch, who we all know is not the best person to be alone with. So perhaps he is, but I think his perception is at least slightly clouded.}

“I see, I see. Maybe then we should focus more on getting Jack away from that creature, then, and then he can decide what to do next.” Schneep started. “Oh! Jameson, this cup was full! What happened?”

Jameson laughed silently. {You drank it, doctor. While I was talking, remember?}

“I did? No, I do not think so. Did someone steal it? Someone must have.”

{No, nobody did. There’s nobody in this room but the two of us. Here, you can have more, though.} Jameson grabbed the pot and poured more tea into Schneep’s cup.

“Ah.” Schneep took another small drink. “Maybe it was Chase. He’s very fond of tea.”

Jameson winced, almost imperceptibly. {Henrik, don’t you remember what happened to Chase?} Before he could say anything more, there was a chiming sound. Jameson, startled, reached into one of his vest pockets and pulled out his phone, reading the text that appeared. His brows furrowed. {Doctor, I have to take care of something. You wouldn’t mind if I left now, would you?}

Schneep waved him away. “No, not at all. I understand business calls. Or texts, instead.” He laughed at his own joke, but that was cut off by a sudden crunching sound from upstairs. He sighed. “Meanwhile, I am going to settle that.”

{Capital. Thank you, doctor.} Jameson stood up, walked quickly toward the front door, and was soon gone.

Schneep stood up too, but instead walked over to the base of the stairs. “Jackie! I would want to talk to you!” He yelled.

“Can’t this wait?” Came the shouted reply.

“No, there is tea! It will get cold!”

After a second, the sound of footsteps came rushing downstairs and Jackie showed up, the shoulders of his hoodie dusted with white plaster. Upstairs there were more footsteps, then the sound of a bedroom door slamming closed. “Selfish little—” Jackie was muttering, “bastard bitch evil—fucking…hissy fit cat man only fucking…cares about himself.”

Schneep decided to tune this out. “Jackie, Jameson made tea, but he had to leave, so I thought you would like some!”

Jackie sighed. “You know what? Sure. Tea is calming. I can go for calming.”

“I know, I know!” Schneep smiled, pulling Jackie over to the couch. “You are being very stressed recently, you need to take a moment to breathe. Jameson explained the situation with Jack, and I can now see why you are so angry, my friend. But is not good to hold onto that forever, you need a happy place! Here, I can help you find it.”

Jackie smiled faintly as he watched Schneep pour more tea. “Yeah…that’d be nice.” He pulled the cup toward him and took a deep drink.

“Yes, yes, it would be.” Schneep looked around the room. “I think Chase was just here. He did not ask, if he asked I would have given him some, he did not need to snatch it up.”

Jackie’s smile fell. “Um…Schneep. Henrik. Chase is…” He hesitated. “Chase is…asleep right now. He couldn’t have just been here.”

“Of course he could have! You can be asleep and still talk and move.” Schneep was perfectly oblivious to the sad look Jackie was giving him. “I will have many things to say to him when I next see him.”

“…sure.” Jackie sighed again. “Sure. Anyway, you said Jameson explained the Jack situation to you?”

“Yes, yes, he did. You think Jack is happier away from us, and that is why you are fighting with the others, because they do not think so. But…” Schneep leaned closer to Jackie. “Here is what I think. I think that the creature is making a mess of him. It knows that maybe he wanted to leave, and it is making him stay with it! So I think we have to get Jack away from it, and then he can decide what to do next.”

“I…” Jackie seemed to forget whatever he was about to say next. Or maybe he was reconsidering it. He started playing with the end of his hair, looking at Schneep contemplatively. “So…when we get Jack away from the glitch…what if he decides to leave? How would you feel about that?”

Schneep frowned. “I think I would be sad to see him go, but Jack is a perfectly healthy adult, he is allowed to make his own decisions. Besides, we can always keep in contact.”

Jackie nodded, slowly at first, then increasing in speed. There was a glint in his eye. “Yeah. So, we’ll get him away from the glitch. And we’ll let him choose what to do afterwards. And when he decides to leave, we’ll let him. That sound like a plan to you?”

“Yes, it does!” Then Schneep gasped. “Jackie, I think your drink is getting cold! You need to get it inside you before that happens! It will help clear your head, I promise, I am a doctor.”

The corner of Jackie’s mouth twitched. “Tea has medical properties, then?”

“Of course it does! I would not lie to you, and I cannot, because I am the best doctor.”

“Alright, dude. Here, look.” Jackie drank the tea, setting the cup back down with a grin. “That good for you?”

Schneep nodded, taking a sip of his own.

And as the two of them sat together, the seeds of a plan began to take root in Jackie’s mind.

Part Twenty-Eight of the PW Timeline
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a complete series I wrote from July 2019 to July of 2022. After two months, Jackie is out of the hospital, Schneep is back in the hospital but slowly improving, and almost all of the boys gather together to go see Jack, who may also be out of the hospital soon. But let’s not forget who’s still out there…]
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Chase glanced at the clock display on his car dashboard. 3:13. They’d agreed to meet up at 3:00. He looked out the window and up towards the upper floors of the apartment building. Did it really take thirteen minutes to get down to street level? Sure, Chase had been a couple minutes late, but he’d expected Jameson to be waiting for him when he arrived.

No sooner had these worries crossed his mind than the building’s front entrance opened, and Jameson hurried out. He immediately spotted Chase’s car and quickly walked over. Chase unlocked the doors and leaned over to open the passenger side. “Hey, man,” he said, giving him a small smile. “How’s it been going?”

Jameson nodded silently as he got into the car, closing the door behind him. Almost two months had passed since the rescue from Anti. In that time, Chase hadn’t seen much of Jameson. He’d explained to Chase and Marvin that, while he really appreciated their concern, he needed some time on his own. They understood, of course, and so communicated almost entirely in text messages. Today was the first time Chase had seen Jameson in person in weeks. He looked…better. There was a bit more color in his face and light in his eyes. 'Oh, sorry, I should probably say more,' JJ signed. 'I’m good, thank you. You?'

“Pretty alright.” Chase started the car and pulled out onto the street. “The kids are turning eight soon, so Stacy and I are talking about party stuff.”

'Soon? I thought their birthday was in June. It’s barely February.'

“Hey, trust me. You want a buffer of a few months when talking about kids’ birthdays. If you order stuff online you need to be sure it’ll be here well before the date.” Chase chuckled. “Uhh…we have a few more stops to make before we get there, and we’ll have to take the busy streets for some of it. So if you want to talk about anything, better do it now while I have the free time to look away from the road.”

JJ smiled a bit. 'How irresponsible of you, Chase.'

“Hey, I haven’t crashed a car in at least two days,” Chase joked. JJ laughed, and he felt relief wash over him. Good. His friend was alright. “How’s the moving going, by the way?”

'I’m actually having second thoughts about that,' JJ explained.

“Really?” Chase asked, surprised. “Isn’t it…safer?”

'It is. It definitely is,' JJ agreed. 'But…I don’t know, it feels wrong to move when I really like this place. It’s like…I’m letting Anti take one more thing away from me.'

Chase was silent for a moment. “Well…it’s up to you,” he finally said. “But it just seems like a bad idea when he knows where you live.”

'It IS,' Jameson repeated emphatically. He sighed. 'I don’t know. My feelings are complicated. Linda and I are working them out.'

“Linda? That’s your therapist?” Chase asked. JJ nodded. “Right, I remember now. Sorry, I’m still fucking awful with names.” He shrugged. “You know…this all could be resolved if we got put into witness protection.”

'You’re going on about this again?' JJ rolled his eyes. 'It’s not up to us.'

“Well it just makes sense! I mean, what sort of police department looks at a situation like this, where the criminal asshole is still at large, and goes like ‘nah, not needed?’ A shit one, that’s what! Agh!” Chase hit the steering wheel.

'They are a bit shit in this city, aren’t they?' JJ mused. 'But you know you wouldn’t want to accept it if they offered.'

“Hah…you got me there.” Chase smiled sadly. “I’d miss Sophie and Nick too much.”

JJ patted his arm. 'Things will work out. I keep seeing those poorly-disguised undercover officers everywhere. That helps.'

“‘Things will work out?’ That’s a lot more…optimistic than what you’ve said before,” Chase said carefully. “And will they really be of any help if they’re so bad at being undercover?”

'It’s the principle,' Jameson said. 'The idea that they can step in if anything goes wrong. And…well, you’re right, I guess it is more optimistic.' He paused for a moment, partially in thought, partially because Chase needed concentration as he went through a roundabout. 'Don’t get me wrong, I still think Anti won’t give up. But saying reassuring things out loud helps.'

Chase nodded thoughtfully. “Well…you’re right. It’ll work out eventually.” Most of him disagreed with that statement. But he might as well say it out loud. See if it really did help soothe the ball of anxiety he’d been carrying around for almost two months.
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“Alright, we went a little over time for today, but that’s okay.” Laurens closed her new notebook, folding over the corner to mark the notes for today’s session. “Before I leave, is there anything you want to talk about?”

Schneep, sitting across the table from her, shrugged wordlessly. He looked down at the wooden surface, tracing the grains with a finger.

“Are you sure?” Laurens asked.

“It is not a good sign when your therapist asks you that,” Schneep said, chuckling a little. His eyes flicked back up to look at Laurens.

“I just like to be sure,” Laurens explained. “We can go over time if we have to, I don’t have any other patients today.”

“Hmm.” Schneep went quiet for a little, thinking. “I suppose…there is nothing else. Nothing that we have not discussed. I…” He sighed. “I am still thinking about it.”

“That’s alright,” Laurens reassured him.

“It has been two months now, I am still thinking about it.”

“Schneep. Henrik. Of course you are,” Laurens said gently. “Even just seeing Anti again would be incredibly traumatic, let alone that. You shouldn’t push yourself to move on.”

“Because everyone recovers at different rates, I know, that is not what I was trying to say.” Schneep sat up straight, clasping his hands together while they rested on the table. “I was…trying to empathize that it…that everything from that…is still heavy in my mind. All of it. Since my usual symptoms are calm again, I think that is what we should focus on.”

“Oh. You were trying to emphasize that, I see.” Laurens nodded.

“Empha—right, that is the word.” Schneep grunted in frustration. “Those two words are too similar.”

“They trip me up too, don’t worry,” Laurens laughed. “But more to the point…I understand what you mean. And…Schneep, I have to ask you a question. I want you to answer honestly.”

“What is it?”

“Would you…” Laurens braced herself to ask. “Would you prefer to have a different therapist?”

“What?” Schneep blinked, utterly shocked at the direction the conversation was taking. “What do you mean?!”

“I’m not going to leave if you don’t want me to,” Laurens hurried to say. “But I was wondering. Perhaps my methods and—and specializations aren’t being as helpful on…those matters, matters of trauma. Not to mention, I…I am somewhat close to this case.” Her voice cracked. She was just as scared of Anti as Schneep was. That wasn’t exactly an ideal situation, when your therapist also needed therapy for the same thing. “So, if you think it would be better to have someone who might…help more with this in particular, then I can get you someone else.”

“I-I…” Schneep was at a loss for words for a moment. His eyes dropped back down to the table surface, then returned to Laurens’ face. “I think…that you are a very good therapist. And that…you have not failed me yet. So, until you do, I would like things to stay as they are.”

Laurens nodded. “Alright. But…Schneep. Please do keep in mind that…that there’s supposed to be some distance between a therapist and a friend. If that makes sense.”

“I do not mean it that way,” Schneep denied. “I-I mean that—that you have gone very far in your job, and I…I appreciate it.”

“Well. Thank you very much.” Laurens smiled softly.

But before she could say anything else, her pager beeped. Surprised, she looked down to see what that was about. “Huh.” She looked up at Schneep. “Looks like we have to stop now.”

“Ah, fantastic. I suppose I will see you same time tomorrow? No, wait.” Schneep paused. “We have been doing more spread out sessions. Sorry, I swear I can remember this.”

“Time blurs together when you’re stuck in one building, it’s understandable,” Laurens said. “But you’ll actually be seeing me for a while longer. You see, you have a visitor.”

Schneep sat up straight. “Who?”

“I don’t know, there’s only so many characters you get on these little things.” Laurens shook her pager. “Let’s go see together.”

A short time later, the two of them stood outside the visitor’s room. Oliver was there as well—it was his turn to supervise patient visits. He nodded at the two of them. “Hey, doc. Henrik.”

“You can call me Schneep, Oliver,” Schneep said, smiling a bit.

“And you can call me Rya,” Laurens added.

“Right, right. Still getting used to it.” Oliver nodded.

“Who’s visiting?” Laurens asked.

“Uhh…” Oliver glanced down at the sign-in clipboard—obviously taken from its station at the front desk, probably without the staff member stationed there noticing. “Mina Pfieffer.”

“She is here again?!” Schneep gasped. He grabbed Laurens’ arm in a vice grip, shaking it a little. “She came back!”

“Whoa! Uh, a little tight there,” Laurens said, pulling her arm back. Schneep took the hint and let go, ashamed. Laurens decided to not address it. “Yes, she came back. You don’t need to say that every time she visits.” Mina had shown up a lot in the two months since the rescue. The exact day was always irregular, but she would find time at least once per week.

“I-I am always—always surprised to hear it.” Schneep laughed a little. “She—she does not have to—”

“You’re right, she doesn’t have to, but she wants to,” Laurens said. Personally, Laurens thought Mina was making up for not visiting for the first seven months. She always seemed so guilty about that time period. “And she’s here now, so we better not keep her waiting.” Laurens grabbed the doorknob. “Shall we?”

“Yes, we shall.”

Laurens laughed a bit, and opened the door as she and Schneep went inside. Mina was sitting on one of the sofas, looking through a magazine, but she immediately put it down and stood up as soon as she saw them walk in. “Schneep, hallo,” she said, a small smile on her face, and waved. “Wie geht es dir?”

“Mina.” Schneep couldn’t help but smile back. He crossed the room and gave her a quick hug. “Mir geht es gut. Und du?”

The two of them sat down, immediately launching into German conversation. Laurens lingered in the doorway, watching. Regulations meant all visits were supposed to be supervised, but she didn’t feel the need to keep a close eye on them.

Oliver walked up next to her. “Things have been going good, then? With all the…y’know, sessions and stuff.”

Laurens nodded. “Really well, actually. I’ve been talking with Dr. Fells about town privileges. Supervised, of course.”

“He’ll be okay with that?”

“For short times. In non-public places where An—you-know-who couldn’t get to.” Laurens watched quietly for a moment. She saw Mina take her phone out and start showing pictures to Schneep. No doubt pictures of Elise, their daughter. She wondered if Mina would bring Elise for a visit one of these times. She wondered if visits with children and infants would be allowed in this case. Well, she could put in a good word for Schneep in that regard.

“And how’re you doing, doc? Uh, Rya?” Oliver asked.

“Um…good, overall,” Laurens said.

“Hmm.” Oliver nodded. “So…you’re not in any trouble with the whole breaking-into-a-killer’s-flat thing?”

Laurens laughed nervously. “You…heard about that?”

“Yeah. And I figured out you made me knock on his door.” Oliver shook his head. “I mean, it was pretty obvious you were trying something, but I didn’t expect you to do something that risky.”

“We…weren’t planning on it,” Laurens said carefully. “But eventually, we…just couldn’t walk away.” She looked down at the notebook in her hands. “Uh…we’re not in trouble. Marvin knew this really good lawyer, she’s the same one who got Newson in trouble for all the stuff she did. So we got off without any…well, not without any consequences. I’m still paying the fine, but at least we’re not in jail.”

“Ballsy,” Oliver commented.

“Wh—?!” Laurens turned sharply to look at him.

“Hey, it’s true.” Oliver shrugged. “You ever notice how a lot’s changed? A year ago you had to talk yourself up to stand up to Newson.” He grinned. “And now you’re being all ballsy and stuff.”

“Huh.” Laurens thought about that. “You’re right. It’s…different. But that’s how things are. The self is not a constant. People change.” She leaned against the doorframe and looked at Mina and Schneep, talking together. “…people change.”
.............................................................................................

Chase leaned on the steering wheel, letting the horn blare. JJ gave him a sideways look. 'Really?' he asked. 'I’m sure he can hear you.'

“Yeah, but he takes forever to come out, and we’re already a bit late,” Chase countered. “This’ll be sure to get his attention.”

Along with everyone else on the street. JJ grabbed Chase’s shoulder and tried to pull him back, only to be shaken off. Chase, come on. The neighbors are probably staring.

“Aha! There he is!” Chase leaned back, waving at Marvin as he appeared in the front doorway and walked towards the street. Marvin gave him a glare, then got into the back seat. “Hi, Marv.”

“Oh, why’d you stop? I’m sure there are people in Wales who didn’t hear you!” Marvin immediately dove into a rant without bothering to return the greeting. “Go ahead! Why not belt out some Morse code while you’re at it? Beeeep-beep-beep beep-beep beeeep-beep-beeeep-beep beeeep-beep-beeeeep! ‘My name is Chase and I can’t wait five minutes for my friend to leave his house!’”

“Did you just ‘beep’ actual Morse code at me?” Chase muttered as he pulled back onto the street.

“Yeah, I spelled out what you are,” Marvin grumbled. Then he noticed Jameson staring at him, and his expression softened. “Hi, JJ. Uh…how are you?”

'I’m good,' Jameson said. 'Sounds like you’re having a bad day.'

“I’m really not, I just hate car horns,” Marvin said.

“Don’t worry, if all goes well I won’t need to use it again,” Chase said.

'How have things been with you?' JJ asked Marvin. 'Any luck on the job search?'

“Yeah, I got a couple offers back,” Marvin said. “Including the theatre job, so that’s great. I have an in-person interview for that on Tuesday.”

'Oh that’s wonderful!' JJ signed cheerfully.

Marvin smiled. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

The group still had one last stop before their final destination. Chase drove farther north as the buildings became red brick facades in uniform lines. He pulled to the side of the street, stopping right in the middle of one of these rows. The house he’d stopped in front of looked just like its neighbors, except someone was sitting on the front steps. Jackie was wearing a new green hoodie, his hair pulled back away from his face. When he noticed the car, he stood up and hurried over, getting into the backseat with Marvin.

“Hey, bro!” Chase turned around to grin at Jackie. “How’s it going? Are you all settled in?”

“You mean in the house? Yeah, mostly.” Jackie let out a puff of air, exhausted just thinking about the moving process. “I am so lucky my last landlord kept my stuff. She could’ve easily auctioned it off, you know.”

“Yes, we know, you’ve only said this a hundred times,” Marvin drawled.

Jackie shot him a look, then turned his attention to Jameson. “Hi, JJ.”

'Hi Jackie,' Jameson said. 'Everything alright?'

“Why d’you look so concerned? I’ve been out of the hospital for weeks now, of course everything’s alright,” Jackie said. “Uh…okay, maybe not perfectly 100%, but alright. Hey, have you guys heard of maladaptive daydreaming?” The other three responded with headshakes and general negative mumbles. “Ah.” Jackie looked thoughtful.

JJ raised an eyebrow. 'If you’re thinking that you might have a thing, you probably do.'

“I didn’t say anything!” Jackie protested.

Well that’s how it usually works. JJ shrugged. Don’t you have someone you can ask about that?

“That’s a fancy way of asking if I’ve found a therapist, isn’t it?” Jackie narrowed his eyes, but relented. “Well…yes. That makes me the fifth one in the group, right? At this point, Jack is the only one who’s not in therapy…for the mind, I mean. Physicals don’t count.”

“But that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Chase pointed out.

“I…you’re not…wrong, I guess,” Jackie said.

“Speaking of Jack, are we gonna be late?” Marvin pointed at the dashboard clock, which now read 3:42.

“We’re not gonna be late, we just won’t have as much time,” Chase clarified.

“Oh jeez,” Jackie muttered. “Can we go faster? I-I don’t want to cut it close.”

“On it,” Chase said, stepping on the gas.

They arrived at Southpoint General Hospital around 4:00. By now, everyone was intimately familiar with the sign-in process for visitors, but getting to the room was a different process. After all, Jack had recently been assigned to a new one. After a few extra minutes of getting lost, they arrived at the right room. Chase went first, swinging open the door. “Hellllo?”

“Hey!” Jack looked up from the book he was reading, waving to the others. “About time. I almost thought you guys weren’t going to come.”

“Ah fuck, I knew we were gonna be late,” Marvin muttered.

“Hey, visiting hours are still going, aren’t they?” Chase rebutted.

The group piled into the hospital room, leaving the door open behind them. There weren’t enough chairs for all of them, so Jackie and Chase ended up sitting while Marvin and JJ stayed standing. “Oooo, reading books now, I see,” Jackie grinned. “I didn’t take you for the type.”

“Hey, books are good for your brain, up here.” Jack tapped the side of his head. “Besides, you can’t say I’ve never read a book ever in the time you’ve known me.”

“Yeah, no, not you of all people, who only own comic books,” Chase joked.

“I do not!”

'Debatable,' JJ said, humming. 'If you own printed books you must store them in an invisible closet somewhere, because I never saw any in your flat.'

Everyone laughed, even Jackie.

“Alright. So. Guess what?” Jack grinned. “They said I’m almost good to go home! I can be out of here by next week!”

“What? No way!” Chase gasped, leaning over to give Jack a quick side-hug. “That’s great, bro!”

“Yes, join me in the no-more-hospital club!” Jackie said.

'Congratulations!' JJ signed. 'I know it’s been a long time.'

“Hey, don’t be so awkward, James,” Jack said. “I know we just met, but you’re friends with these guys, so you’re friends with me.”

JJ ducked his head, still feeling a bit awkward, but smiling.

“Seriously?! Next week?!” Marvin laughed. “Man, we have to do a thing for that. Like, a party or something. Everyone can come!”

“Uh…define ‘everyone,’” Jackie said. “Cause, yeah, everyone in this room could come. But—”

“You mean Schneep?” Chase asked. “Funny thing, actually. You remember when we went to visit him last week? While you headed back to the car after, I talked to his doctor, and she said he might be able to leave soon. Not permanently,” he hurried to add. “But for like…trips into town. With some supervision.”

“What?!” Jackie almost shot out of his seat. “If I’d known I’d be missing important shit like that, I wouldn’t’ve gone back to the car so soon!”

Chase laughed. “See, this is what you miss when you hurry out of everything.”

“So it can happen,” Marvin said, punching the air. “Yes! Finally! Everyone will be in one place for the first time in fucking months! God, they warned me that adulthood would make getting together with friends hard, but nobody said anything about this.”

“Hey, don’t talk about adulthood like you’re fresh out of university,” Jack said. “You’re almost thirty.”

“Oh my god…I’m almost thirty,” Marvin repeated, covering his mouth in exaggerated horror.

'Ha, sucks for all you guys,' JJ grinned.

“Excuse you, but it’s not like we chose to be born a year earlier than you,” Chase said, mock-offended.

'How’s it feel to suck at being born?' JJ said smugly.

Everyone else in the room immediately broke into loud protesting and ribbing. Marvin leaned over to bump JJ with his shoulder. Jackie threw his arms in the air and shouted something that couldn’t be heard through the others’ noise. Jack started laughing, leaning over to the side. And in that moment, Chase thought that maybe…maybe things really will work out.
.............................................................................................

The overhead light in the hotel room buzzed, annoyingly loud in its use of energy. Old, faded wallpaper covered the walls in a pattern of various beiges. The curtains were drawn over the window. The bed was unmade with its covers flung to one side. A door was ajar, showing the bathroom.

A man paced back and forth in the small bit of free floor space in the small room. He pressed his phone to the side of his head—the left side, the side that was covered in scars—and listened. His free hand fidgeted with the watch he wore around his neck. An old watch that had been broken years ago.

“No, I don’t think you understand,” the man said. “I’m not asking. I’m telling you that I need them within the week. This is not an offer, this is a demand.” He paused as the caller on the other side spoke. And he smiled. “No, I think I can.” Another pause. “Listen. Mr. Morris. Or…can I call you Gary? No, I said LISTEN. You are going to deliver them within the week. Because I don’t think your wife wants to know about this side business of yours.” A short pause. “You know, your wife. Who lives at the address 67 Benjamin Avenue in Kettleville—It doesn’t matter how I know, it just matters that I do. And if I don’t have them within the week, your wife will find out. And, hmmm, your mistress will, too. Why not?” A long pause. The man’s smile grew. “Perfect. You remember the location, right? Get to it. Within the week.” And he put down the phone, hanging up.

There was a desk in the hotel room. Its surface was absolutely covered with electronic and mechanical equipment, with just enough room for a laptop and mouse. The man sat down at the desk and shook the mouse to light up the laptop’s screen. Diagrams were visible on the monitor, complex and hard to understand. The man scanned them, then opened up another document: a list, with every item but one crossed out. He highlighted the final item and selected the strikethrough option, crossing it out as well.

Anti reached up and clasped the old watch around his neck one more time. It would all work out soon.

Chapter Three of Fantasy Masks
A JSE Fanfic
[This is the first part of an ongoing fic series I started in June 2021. Chase gets to know the layout and residents of the Wyvernlair camp.]
.............................................................................................

It was clear that Jackie was eager to have someone new to show around Wyvernlair. He led the way, pointing out important features of the camp. Most of the center area was taken up by tents for people to stay in. In addition, there was an area dedicated to cooking, with campfires and stacks of pots and dishes, a wide, clear area for people to practice sword fighting and other combat, and a large space for storage.

All this was fairly normal for any camp. Or at least, that’s what Chase figured, considering he’d never been in a camp of any kind. But he was pretty sure that the massive skeleton made Wyvernlair much different than any other camp. Every bit had been planned around the bones embedded in the ground. The tents were encircled by the dragon. The cooking fires were dotted around the leg bones. The combat field was spread out along the wings that extended out from the rest of the body. And the storage was inside the oversized ribcage, canvas stretched over the gaps to keep out the weather.

Inside the ribs was the most incredible place Chase had ever been. He kept his head craned upward, following the curve of the ivory bones, each one big enough that it would take three full grown men to encircle it. The storage inside the ribcage was much less impressive in comparison, though he did have to admit he’d never seen this amount of weapons, armor, parchment, and foodstuffs in one place. Not to mention all the miscellaneous items as well, like lanterns and chests for storage.

“Oh, you need a jacket!” Jackie suddenly said, bringing Chase back to the conversation. “You can take one of the communal ones, over here.” He grabbed Chase’s hand and pulled him to the side of the ribs, where the chests were full of various clothing, each labeled with types and sizes. “Unless you’re a cloak person?”

“Uh, no, I…jackets are good,” Chase said dazedly.

“Great! What are you, a five?” Jackie waited for Chase to nod, then headed over to the appropriate chest. “We don’t have that many fives left…a lot of people have measurements around there.” He flipped open the chest lid. “Um…yeah, there’s just one. Hope you like yellow.” After a bit of rummaging, he pulled out a dull flaxen jacket and tossed it in Chase’s direction.

Chase fumbled for a bit before catching it. It was a fairly normal jacket, and he quickly pulled it on. Autumn in the mountains was not a time to walk around without one. He’d been chilly all through their walk.

“Alright, all that’s left is the skull,” Jackie said. “I don’t know how often you’ll be in there, but it’s good to—”

“I’m sorry, I’m still caught up on the fact that I’m inside a DRAGON SKELETON,” Chase interrupted.

Henrik, who’d been following the tour quietly and letting Jackie do all the talking, suddenly burst into laughter. “I told you. It is shocking, isn’t it?”

“Well…yes!” Chase looked back up at the curve of the ribs above him, slowly shaking his head. “I heard dragons were large, but I didn’t really…picture it, before this.”

“Technically, this is not the skeleton of a full-blooded great dragon,” Henrik said.

“What?”

“The dragon that most people think of, with four legs and two or more wings? That is a great dragon,” Henrik explained. “I’m sure you noticed this one only has two legs; it was likely a wyvern/great dragon crossbreed.”

“Hence the name ‘Wyvernlair,’” Jackie added.

“What’s the difference?” Chase asked.

“Wyverns only had two legs and larger wings. They walked a bit like birds do,” Henrik continued. “And they were usually much smaller. There are some accounts of humans riding them. So this was either an abnormally large wyvern, or it was a crossbreed with the great dragons. Which, yes, could grow as big as this, but that was not so common.”

“Elders,” Chase muttered. The fact that there were once creatures as large as this roaming the land, big enough to encircle half a town…it made him glad they weren’t around anymore.

“It was really lucky that we found this place,” Jackie said. “Not because of the skeleton, but because of its location. There are no trees growing near the bones, so we have room to spread out, and we have our backs to a rock wall, which makes it more defensible.” He paused. “Anyway, the last part on our tour is the skull, and then we can set you up with a tent. Oh, actually, the spare tents are kept here. Let’s grab that now.”

“I get my own?” Chase said, surprised.

“Of course, we have plenty to spare,” Jackie said casually. “We brought a whole bunch up, but recruitment has been slow.”

“Nonexistent,” Henrik muttered. He reached into one of his belt pouches and took out a small flask, taking a quick drink.

“Well…yes,” Jackie admitted. “But let’s go, we’re almost done!”

The skull was just as massive as the rest of the skeleton, with wicked sharp teeth as tall as Chase. He stared at them as Jackie and Henrik led him around to the back, where there was a slight gap where the skull met the spine. They passed through that gap and ended up inside. Much like the ribs, the skull had been converted into a room, with canvas blocking the eye sockets and nasal cavity to make a rough roof. This wasn’t as large as the storage, but it was still at least three times as large as Chase’s cottage. There were more chests in here, and a few rickety desks where people—masks always nearby—sat, reading and writing on parchment. They all glanced up as the three men entered the room, then looked away.

In the middle of the skull was a large circular table, made of solid, dark wood and surrounded by chairs. Various maps were spread out on the surface of the table, held down with weights.

Chase glanced at the largest map, and immediately recognized it as a map of the kingdom of Glasúil. A detailed one, too, covering almost all of the island. The Dragon’s Teeth mountains ran down the center, with the smaller Northaven range branching off to the east, along the northern shore. The Southern Moors were present, slowly merging into the sea. Rivers and forests he’d never heard of crossed the parchment, and each major town and city was represented by a labeled black dot. The only part of the map left blank was the area to the west of the Dragon’s Teeth, which simply had “Wyldwood” written across it.

“Oh hey, you like the maps?” Jackie asked, noticing Chase’s attention. “We use those for planning stuff. A lot of strategy and meetings happen here. This is also where we keep all our records and sort through all our messages with other Phantom locations. Since you’re part of the group now, you’ll eventually go on missions, and if that’s the case, you’ll have to write a report and deliver it here.”

“Missions?” Chase repeated. His head was starting to swim a bit with all the new information.

“Well, if you want to,” Jackie said awkwardly. “I mean, you could stay here and do medicine with Henrik, or be part of our administration—”

“Administration?” This time, Chase laughed a bit when he repeated the word.

“Organization is VERY important,” Schneep emphasized. “There are a lot of us, and we do a lot of things. If we have no organization then we do not know what we’re doing!”

“Yeah, and those things we do are…missions,” Jackie said.

“Alright, what kind of…missions?” Chase asked.

“Depends. We might need to investigate someplace, or something, or someone. We might need to go in and stop an act of injustice, or rescue people who’ve been hurt.” Jackie paused. “If…if we’d heard about the King’s plans for the mountain villages to burn, then we could have…shown up. In time.”

Chase felt his stomach twist at the mention of the burning villages. There was guilt in Jackie’s voice; he clearly felt awful that the Phantoms couldn’t do anything to prevent that. “Well.” Chase took a deep breath. “I guess we’ll have to make sure things like that don’t happen again.”

Jackie nodded. Henrik placed a hand on his shoulder, and that seemed to steady him. He drew himself to his full height and stiffened his posture. “Exactly. The King may think he can get away with any of this, just because of his position. But the people will not stand for it. We will not stand for it. As long as his actions cause death and damage, we will work to remove him.”

For a moment, Chase was in awe at the resolve Jackie showed. He wasn’t that physically intimidating, being almost a head shorter than Chase and a head and a half shorter than Henrik, but he had a commanding aura. Maybe the strength of his conviction was catching. “Exactly,” Chase said. “That’s—that’s what I want to do.” His simple statement sounded lame in comparison.

Jackie smiled. “And that’s why we’re so glad to have you.” He relaxed a bit, looking over at Henrik. “And if Schneep likes you, then I do, too.”

Chase couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I-I’m sorry? What did you call him?”

Henrik’s expression fell. He took his hand off Jackie’s shoulder and pushed him with his shoulder. “I told you, stop using that.”

“But it’s so fun to say,” Jackie said cheerfully. “Chase, did you know that Henrik’s surname is Schneeplestein?”

Chase fought to stifle his giggles. NOW he remembered that particular fact from his first meeting with Henrik. “That’s—well, I’m sure that’s a usual surname in Alterde—”

“It is not,” Henrik said wearily. “It sounds just as ridiculous over there. Go ahead, laugh about it. Get it out of your mind now.”

“No no, I’m fine, I promise.” Chase coughed a bit, clearing his throat of laughter. “At least you HAVE a surname.”

“Ah, it is common to have one where I am from,” Henrik waved away the comment. “I know here it is a nobility thing, but not in Alterde or its neighbors.”

“Really?” Chase said, interested.

“Really. And it is much easier than your family names,” Henrik said bluntly, turning to leave.

“Hey! Wait for us!” Jackie took Chase’s hand and the two of them followed Henrik out of the dragon’s skull.
.............................................................................................

“Chase? Are you awake?”

The first thing Chase heard when waking up was someone calling his voice. Instinctively, he rolled over and stretched his arm to the right. Only to be met with nothing but empty space. Oh. Right.

He opened his eyes to a canvas wall and ceiling. He’d gotten his tent yesterday, and Jackie had shown him how to set it up in a spot near the dragon spine. From there, the rest of the day had passed slowly. Awkwardly, too, as Chase didn’t feel up to approaching any of the masked people who were part of the Phantoms. It felt…strange. Like he was constantly intruding on something. So he just spent time in his tent, and when dinnertime rolled around, he showed up to get some stew from the cooking fires then went off to eat on his own. Eventually, the sun set, and he figured that was time to go to bed.

“Chase?” The voice called again.

“Henrik?” Chase asked, sitting up and wiggling out of the bedroll he’d been given.

“Oh, you are awake. Can I open the flap?”

“Go ahead.” It wasn’t like he was indecent or anything. He was actually still wearing his clothes from the day before. Maybe he should check out the storage, see if they had anything else he could use.

Henrik pushed open the flap of the tent and ducked inside, pushing his owl mask up onto his forehead. “Ah, good. I have something for you.” He held out a folded piece of parchment.

Puzzled, Chase took it. “What is this?” He asked as he unfolded it.

“Well, now that you are a Phantom, there are some things you need to be familiar with,” Henrik said. “Jackie put together a schedule for you for today.”

Chase silently looked at the words. He blinked. Then squinted. Then looked back up at Henrik. “Um…I’m sorry, but I…can’t read this.”

Henrik didn’t even have a response for that. “You…cannot read?”

“I can, but only a little,” Chase admitted. “I know the alphabet and numbers, but as for words, I can read what I’m familiar with. Food, animal names, archery gear. Things like that.” He trailed off into a mumble, somehow embarrassed. Reading had never been an issue before. Everyone in town knew enough to get by. But now, he wondered…was that not normal?

“That’s okay,” Henrik said, picking up on Chase’s tone. “Jackie was the same way. We had to teach him.” He chuckled a bit at the memory. “I will explain, then. After breakfast, you will meet with Nemet in the infirmary, she will give you a basic medicine check. To see what you know and fill you in on anything you need. Then you will head down to the tip of the tail, and meet a man there called Tripp. I understand you do not know that much about magic, so he will give you an overview. Then there will be lunch, and then you will head to the combat field to start training with Holly and Lukas.”

Chase started. “What was that last name?”

“Lukas,” Henrik repeated. “You will probably be working with him more, since you seem inclined with bows, and not closer combat.”

“Right.” Chase nodded. That name sounded familiar, like he’d heard it recently…

“Then come back for dinner, and I will check up on you,” Henrik continued. “And by then, hopefully you will know what you want to do most in the group. Medicine, organization, and such. And we will get you a temporary mask.”

“So, why masks?” Chase asked. “I like the idea, but…why? Who came up with it?”

“Oh, the mask concept was Jackie’s idea, but the animal part was added by—by someone else,” Henrik said. There was an odd pause there…was he going to say something else? A name, perhaps? “We wear masks so people will not recognize us. Many of us have friends and family who would be at risk if the King’s people knew we were working against him. Like, for me. You know I am a traveling doctor, yes? Well, when I met you last year, I was already working with the Phantoms. Can you imagine what would happen if someone recognized me as a rebel?”

Chase shivered. “Yea, I can.” If the King was willing to burn down the mountain villages for an unknown reason, what would he do to find one of the rebels? With that thought in mind, he slowly stood up. “So…I’ll get started, then. Meeting with all these strangers.”

“Do not be nervous, Chase,” Henrik said gently. “Everyone new we find has to go through something like this. And these are some of our best people.”

“Thanks,” Chase said. “That’s good to know.” Still, his stomach was slowly tying itself in knots as he headed towards the cooking fires, about to start the day.
.............................................................................................

After a quick breakfast of toasted bread—light, but with those stomach knots, still hard to get through—Chase headed up the gentle slope towards the infirmary cave in the rock wall. Slipping through the flap in the canvas, he found it unchanged from the day before, when he’d been discharged. Nobody was inside, except for…

“Ibis?” Chase asked.

“Hello, Chase.” Ibis smiled at him. Her mask was off, revealing her features and round, dark eyes for the first time. “It’s good to see you again. And please, my name is Nemet.”

“Oh! Oh, I’m supposed to meet with YOU.” That explained why she was standing near the entrance, she was waiting for him.

“Yes, yes.” Nemet nodded. “Henrik has told me to give you a basics in medicine.” She turned and headed towards the back, indicating he should follow. “Come, come. This shouldn’t take too long.”

Nemet had set three chests on top of each other, making a sort of rough chest-height table. On top of the flat surface of the chest-table were a series of bottles and bags, each one neatly labeled. “Here. These are some of our common tonics and medicines we use here. Tell me what you recognize.”

Chase considered the layout before him. There were probably about thirty in total, if he had to guess. “This is for colds, right? And fevers? And this one, too. And these dried leaves, they’re for nausea. Oh, and this will put you to sleep if you put it in water or stew. This is a salve, also for fevers. And this is a balm for sores. And this will stop infection on cuts and scrapes. And…that’s what I know.”

“Impressive,” Nemet nodded.

“Really? That’s only a fraction of the total,” Chase said doubtfully.

“Most people who join up only know redleaf, bainruish, and seedbane.” Nemet indicated each medicine as she listed them. “Fevers, cuts, and…well, I’m sure you know what seedbane is for, even if you said nothing. You are married, after all.” She laughed as Chase slowly turned red. “Ah, my apologies. The point is, you are ahead of most others.”

“Do we really need all of these?” Chase asked, quickly moving on.

“Oh, yes. You know that when people gather together that sicknesses spread easily. Many of these will help to cure a specific disease, while others are a general tonic, like redleaf.” Nemet paused, then picked up about ten of the medicines and put them on the floor. “Henrik says you are not so much caught up on magic, so we will leave these ones out of our discussion for now.”

Chase started at that. The concept of mixing medicine with magic made him…uneasy. He may not know that much about magic, but he knew it could be dangerous. “I was wondering, Nemet, what did you do before you joined the Phantoms? I know Henrik’s a traveling doctor, are you the same?”

“Not exactly.” Nemet shrugged. “I was a student of medicine back home.”

“And where was that?”

“A land called Kha’Nyphthis.” Nemet grinned a bit at Chase’s confused expression. “You would not have heard of it. It is to the south, on another continent, but not the same continent as Henrik’s Alterde. We have great schools and libraries there, the best in the world. I was learning to become a doctor, and had almost finished my schooling, but one of the final requirements was to learn the medicine of another land. I chose here, Glasúil, because you are well-known for your medicine. But then I arrived, and saw the state of things, and…ah, well.” Her expression fell for a moment.

“I’m…sorry,” Chase said awkwardly. “Do you…ever think about going back?”

Nemet nodded briefly. “Of course. I have family, friends. But I cannot just abandon things. It’s not in my nature to leave things unsettled.” She took a deep breath, and moved on. “But as for your basics in medicine, let me start by getting you familiar with the ones you didn’t know.”

It was a while later before Chase left the infirmary, his head feeling stuffed with all the new information Nemet had drilled into him. Already, some of it was starting to slip away. And he immediately knew that he could never be a doctor. If these were the basics, he couldn’t even begin to think about what would be required to complete the training to become one.

But he didn’t have time to let all that new knowledge sink in. Judging by the sun’s position, it was getting close to noon, and to lunch. He still had to meet up with someone else before it was time to eat. So he hurried onward, running along the curve of the dragon’s bones, following them as they got smaller and smaller, until they eventually merged into the packed ground. Chase slowed to a stop and looked around, confused. This was the end of the tail, wasn’t it? So…where was—

“Hey you’re the new one, right?”

Chase yelped and spun around. A man was sitting between the spine bones of the dragon, almost unnoticeable in the shadow between them. “Yeah, that’s me,” he said slowly. “Are you, uh…Tripp?”

The man nodded, hopped to his feet, and walked over to Chase. Standing up, he was short, even shorter than Jackie. He wore a dark brown cloak that reached his knees, and of course, a mask. This one was shaped like a ram’s head, complete with curved horns, and the black symbol on the forehead was actually four different symbols arranged in a diamond formation. After a moment of looking at them, Chase realized they were the suits often used on playing cards. How…odd. The man reached up and took off the mask, ruffling his golden brown hair and revealing dark eyes. “Tripp, son of Seamus,” he said shortly. “And you are…?”

“Chase. Son of Brody,” Chase said automatically. “Henrik told you I was—”

“You’re not up-and-up on magic and need a course, yea,” Tripp interrupted, swinging his mask around his finger. Chase took a step back despite already being far away. If that went flying, those plaster horns would do some damage. “And he asked me to do it ‘cause I’m our second best guy.”

“You’re the—?”

“What do you know already, Brodyson?” Tripp continued. “Ever met a magic-wielder?”

“There were a handful in town—”

“Sorcerer, wizard, enchanter, oracle, witch?”

“I…what?” Chase blinked. “I…think they were all sorcerers.”

“How many?”

“Only a handful, about six or seven?”

“For a village of four hundred or so people?” Tripp laughed. “Everyone must’ve been magically impotent.”

“Could you slow down?!” Chase snapped. “I thought you were supposed to teach me about magic, not make fun of me for not knowing anything!”

Tripp paused. Then grinned. “It’s just banter, Brodyson. I didn’t mean offense. But hey, you called me out. Good on you for that. My apologies.” His grin faded. “But I’m not jokin’ about that. There should’ve been at least four times that number of magic-wielders in a town that size. What happened? Were the seekers bein’ lazy for the past few years?”

“…Seekers?” Chase repeated, puzzled.

Tripp looked up at the sky. “Oh, elders. They haven’t been showin’ up at all, have they? If you don’t even know about them—alright, we’ll start from the beginning, then.” He sat down on the ground, folding his legs under him. Slowly, Chase sat down across from him. “You know of the five branches, right? I’m pretty sure everyone in the world’s at least heard their names.”

“Yes,” Chase said, nodding. Wizards, sorcerers, enchanters, oracles, and witches. He mostly heard about them in stories, and was especially fuzzy on the details about those last three.

“A common mistake people make is thinkin’ these are all different things.” Tripp started drawing in the dirt with his finger. “When really, all magic is the same. It’s like a tree—just because each branch might look different, doesn’t mean they don’t all come from the same trunk.” And, in keeping with that metaphor, he drew a rough outline of a tree with five different branches. “All magics can work with each other, and there’s a lot of similarities in between them. For example, do you know the difference between wizardry and sorcery? They’re the two most well-known of the branches.”

“Um…if I’m being honest, I’d always been under the impression that wizardry was more powerful,” Chase said tentatively.

Tripp snorted in disbelief. “Some wizards would like to think that. But no. More varied, yes. But not more powerful. Here, it’ll be easier if I go over them all one by one.” He started to draw symbols by each of the branches, starting with a crude stick figure. “Sorcery is the most common magic besides witchcraft. It crops up in people at random. If you got twenty-five people in a room together, one would probably be a sorcerer, even if they didn’t know it. Its source is inside the person themself. And what it does is manipulate the world. Like…this.”

He pressed a flat hand against the ground next to him. After a moment, the dirt started to move. Then suddenly, pillars of rock shot through the dirt, rising from underneath the surface. Chase gaped as the solid stone started to twist, winding around each other to form a braid of rock. Then Tripp removed his hand, and the rock froze, as if it had never been moving in the first place. For a moment, Chase was stunned, then he managed to ask, “S-so you’re a sorcerer, then?”

“Exactly,” Tripp grinned. “Why d’you look so surprised? You said you knew sorcerers before.”

“Well…yes, but I hadn’t…SEEN their magic too much,” Chase admitted. He remembered one time when Gwen, the weaver’s daughter, had pulled water out of the well. It just streamed out of the depths and sailed right into her bucket. But occasions like that were few and far between.

“Hmm.” Tripp scrunched his face up, thinking. “Well, besides that. Each branch of magic has its strengths and weaknesses. Sorcery’s strength is that it comes from within. As long as a sorcerer doesn’t drain too much energy, they can use their magic forever. And its weakness is that you need a material to manipulate. Like just now, I reached down and pulled rock up from underground. But there’s a limit to the range where your magic can affect things.”

Chase nodded. “What about wizardry, then?”

Tripp sketched a rough outline of a necklace next to another branch of the tree. “Its strength is its variety. Wizards aren’t limited by what things are present, they can conjure out of thin air. But its weakness is in this: the ‘focus.’” He tapped the necklace drawing. “Unlike sorcery, wizardry doesn’t come from within. Wizards are channelin’ it from outside, from the layer of magic that coats the world. But to do so, they need a specially-made thing called a focus. It’s usually a necklace, ‘cause that’s handy, but it can be any shape, as long as it’s made the right way. These dragon bones, for example. They’d be real good to make focuses with.” He knocked on the nearest bone. “About one in fifty people are able to channel wizardry.”

“And now we reach the end of my knowledge,” Chase mutters. “What’s the next most common?”

Tripp paused. “Enchantment.” The image he drew in the dirt now was a misshapen lump. “Damn. That’s supposed to be a brain.”

“Ah. Right. Because enchantment is the magic of the mind, isn’t it?” Chase recalled, casting his memories back to the stories he’d heard that included enchanters.

“Hmm. Yea.” Tripp pursed his lips. “How do I explain them…Well, strengths. They’re the only magic that can work with your mind. Illusions, talking in your head, things like that. But as for their weaknesses, enchanters can’t change the world for real.”

“Is it true that enchanters can control your actions?” Chase asked. “There’s a story, the Dark Damoen—”

“The crazy old man who made Erinthold worship him as a god? That’s a famous one.” Tripp nodded. “Well, it’s true. Some could change your thoughts and make you do things you wouldn’t. But that takes a lot of power, and besides, most enchanters are decent people, like all the rest of us. It’s just that we remember the bad ones because they shock us. And only about one in a hundred people are enchanters, anyway. Don’t worry about it. There are a few Masked Phantoms who are enchanters.”

Chase nodded slowly. The thought of the old story sent shivers down his back, but he should probably trust the magic-wielder. He clearly knew more “What about…the oracles?”

Tripp drew a symbol of an eye in the dirt. “Those are the rarest one. You only get an oracle one in a thousand, if you’re lucky, and they’re not usually that powerful. You’ve probably heard that they issue prophecies of what’s to come, or that they might even be able to manipulate time itself. Well that’s all bullshit.”

“Wh—” Chase was so surprised at the frankness that he choked on his own gasp. After a few moments of coughing, he continued in a hoarse voice. “What do you mean?”

“Oracles can’t manipulate time, that’s the most insane rumor goin’ round about magic there ever was,” Tripp stated. “They get visions of what’s most likely to happen. It’s not for sure, and really, most oracles are wrong. But huge strength there, knowing the most likely future. And it comes with a big weakness. A couple, actually. One, they have to speak their visions out loud while it’s happenin’. It’s a magic…what’s the word?” He snapped his fingers for a bit. “Compulsion. That’s it. They’re literally forced to do it, can’t stop that. And two, the visions are all they can do. They have no other magic. And because of that, some say that oracles are cursed, not gifted.”

Chase thought about that. If he had the choice, would he take knowing the future for being forced to share it? Maybe. Maybe if he knew what could happen next, he could stop terrible things. Like…his heart panged, and he shied away from the thought. No, that didn’t sound too bad. People would also know what the future held, what of it? He’d take that risk.

“And the last magic,” Tripp said, snapping Chase out of his thoughts. “Witchcraft. It’s actually the most common.”

“Really?” Chase said doubtfully.

“I bet you’re goin’ by the stories, where witches are old people that stay in shacks and give out potions,” Tripp said, drawing a bottle next to the final branch. “But really, the magic of witchcraft isn’t in people, like all the others. It’s in the land. It’s part of the world’s magic. Plants with strange properties, the parts of magical animals…these can be mixed together to create amazing effects. And anyone could learn how to do it. In fact, most of us here have.”

Chase suddenly remembered earlier, how Nemet had put away some of the medicines during their meeting. It was because he didn’t know much about magic…“Wait, you mean anyone could make potions? Become a witch?”

“Well, not anyone,” Tripp muttered. “If you have magic of your own, you can’t learn witchcraft. The knowledge just slips away, and if we try anyway, nothing works, even if it should. You can’t use more than one magic. It’d be like tryin’ to hold onto every single branch of a tree.”

“If the tree was small, though?” Chase joked.

“It’s not. The magic tree is big, and the branches are the type where you need to hold on with both hands,” Tripp said firmly.

“Oh. I…see.” Chase cleared his throat. Clearly, using more than one magic wasn’t something to make light of. It was too impossible. “And…what about those seekers you mentioned earlier?”

Tripp was eager to move on. “Seekers are wizards that can sense the presence of magic. What’s supposed to happen is that these seekers are supposed to stop by every town twice every year. In practice, that’s faded away. Most towns only see them once a year, and the farther away you get from Suilthair, the less often you’ll see them. My town where I grew up, they came by every three years. But if you don’t know what they are, then…have you ever seen them?”

At that, Chase had a vague memory of a group of strangers visiting Hilltown when he was a child. They were dressed finely, and the image of an elaborate brooch one of them was wearing flashed in his mind. The next day, Hanson, an old friend of his, announced to all the kids that he was going away for ‘special school.’ “Not in years. Long enough for me to forget what they are.”

Tripp huffed. “I bet it’s not worth the effort to come all the way up here. Bunch of nambies.” He rolled his eyes. “Seekers are employed by the royal family. They find young magic-wielders and offer to give them schoolin’, to learn how to use their magic. Schoolin’ that’s funded by the crowns. It’s not required—I never went—but it’s encouraged. Otherwise you might end up having magic shootin’ out of your—”

“Is that why most wizards side with the King?” Chase asked, remembering what Henrik said about the source of the village fire.

“Part of it. But wizards especially have a reason to keep on the King’s good side.” Tripp paused. “Those focuses I told you ‘bout, that wizards need to use their magic? The crowns fund the makin’ of those, too. And the sellin’. And everything about them.”

“Oh.” Chase’s eyes widened with realization. “So…if a wizard decided to oppose the King, then there’s a chance that…they wouldn’t have access to a focus anymore? And…their magic?”

Tripp nodded. “That’s why most of us magic-wielders in the Phantoms are sorcerers and a few enchanters.”

“No oracles?”

“Oh, elders, no. You heard how hard they are to find. Wish we had some, though. That’d be helpful.” Tripp stretched his arms, then stood up. “Anyway, that’s all I have to say. You got it all?”

“I think so, yes,” Chase said slowly. He looked up to the sky, mentally reviewing everything he’d heard. Sorcery, wizardry, enchantment, oraclulary, and witchcraft. All very different, all with things they could do and limitations that slowed them down. That made sense. He nodded to himself…and then noticed the position of the sun. “Shit!” Chase shot to his feet. “It’s noon! I have—after lunch, I—”

“More meetings, huh?” Tripp raised an eyebrow, then pulled his ram mask back on. “Let me guess…Lukas and Holly? Better hurry, Brodyson. Not good to be late for those two.”
.............................................................................................

Chase swung by the cooking fires to grab some food, then hurried over to the combat fields, along the dragon’s wings. Originally, he wondered if the wing bones would get it the way, but apparently the dragon had died with its wings spread out as far as they could be, leaving ample room in between the bones. The packed dirt was lined with targets, crude dummies made of sacks of hay tied to sticks, and racks of wooden training weapons. Occasionally there were random chests or tents set up to create obstacles to fight around. As he ran out onto the fields, he passed many people, some sparring in groups, others practicing on their own. None of them paid him any mind.

Now that he was here, he wasn’t sure where to go. The fields took up all of the space cleared by the wings, which was, as it turned out, quite a lot. Maybe he should have asked Henrik for descriptions of the people he’d be meeting with. Feeling his nerves eating away at his stomach, he turned to the nearest person, and asked, quietly, “Excuse me, I’m looking for Lukas and Holly?”

The person turned around, looked down at him, and smiled. “Oh, it’s you! You’re the new one!”

“Um…yes,” Chase said slowly. It was just now occurring to him how…big this person was—this woman was, actually, judging by her voice. She towered over him, and her sleeveless tunic showed off the muscles of her tattooed arms. Strange to be wearing no sleeves in the chill mountain air, but she probably wasn’t bothered.

“I’m Holly.” Her smile widened. “Daughter of Rose.”

“Oh!” Chase blinked. That name didn’t fit her at all. But alright, he wasn’t one to say anything. “Chase, son of Brody.”

“Lovely to meet you.” Holly grabbed his hand and vigorously shook it. She wasn’t wearing her mask, but it hung around her neck. A bear. And the symbol on its forehead was the same as the one on Jackie’s wolf mask: a circle with two dots inside. “Me and Lukas, we’re in charge of combat up in Wyvernlair. Speaking of which…” She turned around. “Luke! He’s here!”

Chase leaned around Holly to look at who she was addressing…and suddenly felt cold, despite his jacket. Now he remembered where he heard that name before. While he’d been sick with the shivering in the infirmary, he’d overheard a conversation between Jackie and a man in a fox mask. That man had wanted to throw him out of camp, but Jackie had refused…and now, Chase was staring at that very same man.

“I can see that,” Lukas said shortly. He was facing a series of targets, and didn’t turn to look at Holly and Chase. Instead he merely took another arrow from a quiver on his back, nocked it on his bow, and shot. The arrow flew straight into the center of the farthest target, which was barely the size of a hand spread wide.

“No you can’t, you didn’t even look!” Holly scowled, and turned back around. “Sorry about him, Chase. He’s been snippy.”

“Well I wouldn’t BE snippy if I hadn’t been standing out here for an hour, waiting for someone who didn’t bother to show up on time,” Lukas snapped.

“I’m not an hour late,” Chase protested weakly. Even behind the fox mask, Lukas’s expression was twisted with frustration and annoyance.

“It’s a matter of principle,” Lukas said, finally turning to face Chase. When he did, Chase noticed the symbol on his mask for the first time: an X, with a dot to either side.

“Let’s just get into it,” Holly said, folding her arms. “Now, Chase. You’re a hunter, yes? So you have some experience with shortbows.”

“I can shoot, yes,” Chase agreed. “But I’ve never heard the term ‘shortbow’ before.” Lukas rolled his eyes, a motion that was partially hidden by the mask but still visible enough for Chase to catch.

“It means a smaller bow, in comparison to Lukas’s massive beast of a longbow over there.” Holly gestured towards Lukas’s bow; it was almost as tall as him. “Shortbows are better for mobility and closer range, while longbows are more suited for staying stationary and shooting long distances.”

“Ah.” Chase nodded. That made sense; bigger bows were more powerful, but also harder to draw back and move around. Amabel once tried to shoot Chase’s own bow when she was seven, and couldn’t pull the string even a little.

“I’m assuming you’re a fairly good shot,” Holly said, rubbing her chin. “So you’ll probably need to work with me more. I’m in charge of close-range combat, while Lukas handles the long range, with bows. So if we’re to—”

“Hold on a moment, Holly,” Lukas interrupted. “I want to see what he can do.”

Holly shot Lukas a dirty look. “There’s no need—”

“Of course there is. We should know what our starting point is.” Lukas turned and walked towards a nearby weapons rack, picking out a smaller shortbow and a quiver of matching arrows. He headed back to the others and thrust the tools at Chase. “Show me how well you hunt.”

“…alright. I will.” Chase took the bow and quiver slowly. He didn’t like being tested, especially not when the test was proposed by a man who clearly thought he was some sort of spy for the King and might be looking for an excuse to kick him out. Should he pretend to be worse than he actually was? No, that would just be complicated. He’d shoot normally.

He stepped up to the place Lukas had been standing, facing the targets, and strapped the quiver onto his back. For a moment, he examined the bow. Solidly built. Looked newer than the one he used back home. And had these odd curves…was this a recurve model? He’d heard of them, but never used one before.

“Soon, please!” Lukas called.

Holly promptly hit him on the back of the head. “Take your time, Chase! Don’t worry!”

Chase nodded. His mouth was suddenly very dry. But he swallowed his nerves, adjusted his stance, and nocked an arrow. He hit it against the back of his head in the process of taking it out of the quiver—not being used to wearing it on his back—and glanced back at the two watching to gauge their reactions. Holly looked supportive, but Lukas was unreadable. He looked away again.

There were ten arrows in the quiver and ten targets set up in front of him. He must need to hit all of them. So he drew back, aimed, and let loose the arrow.

Ten arrows.

Five of them hit the closest targets. Two of those hit their target’s center.

One hit the edge of one of the farther targets.

The remaining four missed.

Feeling a sinking feeling in his stomach, he turned back to Holly and Lukas.

“Wow. That was the most utterly average thing I’ve ever seen,” Lukas said bluntly.

“You hit more than I can!” Holly said positively, giving him a short round of applause. “That’s great!”

Chase nodded silently. “I…I’m not used to this bow.”

Lukas hummed. He went to collect the arrows, giving Chase a side-eyed look as he walked past. It seemed as though his suspicions hadn’t been assuaged. If anything, he looked even more wary.

Holly walked up to Chase and clapped a hand on his shoulder. Chase promptly lost his balance from the force of the contact, and Holly helped him right himself. “Sorry about that,” she said. “And sorry about Lukas. He’s just…he has a hard time trusting people. I’m sure you’ll win him over.”

“It’s fine,” Chase said distantly. “I mean, not everyone’s going to immediately welcome someone new into a group like this. You need to keep secret. There are risks.” Still, Lukas’s distrust, combined with his mediocre shooting skills, left him feeling a bit down. Like a cloud passing over the sun, everything just seemed…disappointing.

Lukas returned, arrows in hand. “Do it again,” he said.

“Elders and Sisters, Luke, we don’t have all day,” Holly protested.

“He needs to practice,” Lukas said, stone-faced.

“He needs to start with me! You can’t handle all your problems from a distance, especially in our situation. What’s he to do if a King’s man jumps him from behind and all he has are arrows?”

“It’s fine,” Chase repeated. He rubbed his arm; they hadn’t given him an arm guard, and despite the jacket fabric, his skin still stung from the bow string. “We have until dinner.”

Holly gave him a look, but sighed and stepped back. “One hour of shooting, then it’s my turn.”

Lukas nodded. “Deal.”

Chase sighed a bit, and took the arrows from Lukas. It was turning out to be a long day.

Part Thirteen of the Switch AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of an ongoing fic series I started in April 2019. After a normal evening, the group finds that the kids are missing. Anti, in particular, doesn't take it well.]
.............................................................................................

“Hey Dad, I think I see their car.”

Anti looked down at Will pulling on the hem of his jacket, then looked back up again, following Will’s pointed finger down the road. It was about four in the afternoon, which meant there weren’t a lot of cars driving in the area, which made the familiar blue car stand out a lot more. “Yep, I think that’s them,” he said, waving.

The car pulled over to the side of the road, and the backdoor opened. “Will!” Michelle burst out, tackling her friend in a hug.

“Ack!” Will stumbled back from the force of it. “Dad, she’s strangling me!”

“No she’s not, Will,” Anti said, smiling a bit.

“I’m so glad to see you!” Michelle was happily oblivious to any trouble she might’ve caused.

“I just saw you yesterday!” Will said, dumbfounded.

The driver’s side window rolled down, and Rama stuck their head out. “Hey kids, why not talk in the car? We still need to drop you off before we head out.” They nodded in Anti’s direction. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Anti said back. “Yeah, c’mon, get inside. We’re already kinda late.”

The two kids climbed into the back, and Anti walked around to get into the passenger side. As they headed out, Michelle piped up. “Why can’t we come too?” she asked, whining a bit.

Rama sighed gently. “We told you, it’s for grown-ups.”

“But it’s a birthday party, isn’t it? I want to go to a birthday party.”

“You just had a birthday party yesterday,” Rama said teasingly. “And you won’t be getting presents at this one.”

“Oh! That reminds me!” Michelle suddenly leaned across the middle seat and stuck a stuffed animal in Will’s face. “Look what Ren and Dad got me! After the party ended and you left and everything.”

“Oh!” Will leaned back, getting a better look at the stuffed animal. “Is that…one of those Beanie Baby bears that are kinda hard to get?”

“My teacher has one in her room, and ever since I saw it, I really really liked it,” Michelle chattered. “So I kept asking and asking and Ren and Dad got me one!”

Anti chuckled a bit, glancing over at Rama. “So. How much did that cost?”

“Not that much,” Rama said defensively.

“Alright, Little Mx. Money to Spare,” Anti laughed, settling back in the car seat. “Hey, how’s Jackie doing?”

Rama paused. “Better. Still living with Henrik, we’ll meet the two of them there. But we talk almost every day online, and Michelle seems to understand.”

“Good.” Anti nodded. He wasn’t exactly sure about it, but he thought that maintaining contact was a good way to keep up a romantic relationship. Just like a friendship. Even though he did have a bad habit of suddenly going silent in his own friendships…but he’d been doing much better at it. Case in point, actually going to this ‘party’ even if he wasn’t too much a fan of what they had planned. It would be much better with other people.

After dropping the kids off with the babysitter, it was a short drive over to the restaurant. Surprisingly, it was still fairly crowded at four o’clock, though not nearly as crowded as it would be even an hour later. Though perhaps part of the reason it looked crowded was because of the six people in the small waiting area, most of whom immediately stood up and walked over the moment Anti and Rama walked into the building.

“Anti! You made it!” JJ rushed over, pausing a moment before getting any closer. When Anti nodded, JJ closed the distance, giving him a quick hug. “We were starting to get worried about you two.”

“Yeah, well…you’ll have to talk to Rama about that, ‘cause they were late in the first place to pick me up,” Anti said jokingly.

JJ raised an eyebrow. “I see.” He turned to Rama, but then froze. “Well. Seems like they’re busy,” he chuckled.

Anti looked over as well. And he made a face. It seemed Rama and Jackie were talking…and more than that, actually. “Get a room, you two,” he said.

Jackie glanced over at him and smiled a bit, pulling away from his spouse. “Give us a break, Anti,” he said. Anti rolled his eyes, but secretly he was glad to see that Jackie was indeed doing better. Physically, he hadn’t changed much; he was still wearing the red hoodie that he hadn’t once taken off since his return, with its sleeves pulled far down, and his hair was just as short. But behind his glasses, his eyes were somehow…lighter. Apparently he started to see a therapist, and it must’ve been working really well.

Schneep appeared next to Anti. “You should see the two of them on the video chat,” he muttered. “It is almost insufferable. Too sweet.”

“Aw, Schneep’s just jealous,” Jackie teased. “I know you want a partner, zappy boy.”

“Oh, as if,” Schneep scoffed. “They would have to be able to keep up with me, and I know that is impossible, so unless I find someone who can—ow!” Anti had punched Schneep in the arm. “Ah, always so violent,” he muttered.

“Oh, you haven’t seen me being violent,” Anti promised.

“Hey, there will be none of this,” JJ said sternly. “It’s my birthday.”

“Your birthday was like, four days ago,” Anti pointed out.

“Yes, well, there were no good shows playing on a Wednesday and a holiday,” JJ said, folding his arms in an almost sulky way. “And this place closed early.”

Anti rolled his eyes. “Well. Happy birthday, Jackson. I’d give you your present but the stupid online shipping is taking forever.” Taking a step back, Anti looked around the waiting area. “Where’s Marvin?”

“I’m righ’ here.”

Anti turned back around. Marvin was sitting in a chair right next to the restaurant’s entrance, easy to miss when coming in. He was wearing his nice jacket, and also… “Are you wearing headphones?” Anti asked, surprised.

Marvin grinned. “Yea.” He tapped the side of the heavy black headphones. “Noise cancellin’. T’ese places get very loud an’ bright, y’know. I mean, not t’at they didn’, back…where I’m from, but we didn’ have headphones then, and jesus, they make it all more bearable.”

“I see.” A bit odd, but honestly, Anti didn’t really care. If Marvin wanted to wear headphones in a restaurant, that was fine, not like it was disturbing anyone. And it was then that Anti noticed the other two people sitting nearby. He vaguely recognized one as JJ’s stage manager—what was her name? Started with a D—which made sense, of course JJ would invite her. But the other one…Anti narrowed his eyes. “What’re you doing here?”

Stacy Davidson looked away from her conversation, expression immediately dropping once she noticed Anti. Before she could say anything, JJ stepped in between her and Anti. “I invited her,” he said calmly.

“What?! Why?”

“Well, because we’re friendly,” JJ explained.

Anti stared at him. “Since when?!”

“For about a month, now? Of course, she started by talking to Rama and Jackie, but over time she’s met all the rest of us, too, except for you, apparently.” JJ lowered his voice. “I don’t know why you’re acting like this, when from what I’ve heard, you’ve only met her once, and that’s not nearly long enough to build up resentment. Besides, the dinner’s only going to be an hour, and from there we’ll all be quiet in the theatre, so you won’t even have to talk to her if you don’t want. Understand?”

Anti was silent for a moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Stacy—it was that he didn’t trust her. To be fair, he didn’t trust most people. But there was something about her specifically that felt a little weird. Some American woman, taking a personal vacation for almost two months now? Who has the time and money for that? And why here? Why vacation in this random city that wasn’t even that much of a tourist destination? But Anti sighed. “Fine.”

One of the restaurant hosts came into the waiting area. “Jackson, party of eight?”

“That’s us!” Jameson said, cheerfully waving the host down. “Come on, everyone.”

The whole party followed the host to the table, chatting happily among each other. Except for Anti, who trailed behind, mood suddenly a bit darker.
.............................................................................................

Hours later, Rama and Anti found themselves back in the car with each other, heading to pick up the kids. Anti looked out the window at the night sky and yawned. It really hadn’t been that bad. Dinner had been spoiled a little bit, with the presence of that Stacy lady. He’d spent a bit too much mental energy trying to forget she was there. But the theatre had been alright. It probably helped that the play they’d seen was a Halloween special, and Anti grudgingly had to admit it was pretty good, even if he didn’t enjoy sitting in a dark, uncomfortable audience seat with a couple constantly whispering to each other behind him.

“Here we are,” Rama said, pulling to the side of the road in front of a regular suburban house. “Let’s go get the kids.”

“You go ahead, I’ll stay here,” Anti said, already pulling out his phone and opening up a game.

Rama sighed gently, then said, “Of course,” and opened the car door to leave.

Anti watched them walk up the path and wait at the door. He made sure the old lady who owned the house (and frequently worked as a babysitter, apparently) had opened the door before going back to his game. A few turns later, he realized that it was taking a while for Rama to return with the kids. Grumbling, Anti glanced back towards the house, expecting to see Rama chatting with the lady. And they were. But something was…off. Sitting up straight, Anti watched Rama’s expression. They seemed…upset. Curious, Anti climbed out of the car and walked up to the door.

“See, he can tell you himself!” The old lady said, gesturing at Anti as he approached.

“Uh, tell them what?” Anti asked.

“Margaret says that you already picked up the kids,” Rama explained.

“What?” Anti looked between the two of them, searching for any hint of amusement, like this might be a joke. “Uh…well, I haven’t. So you can go get them now.”

The old lady, Margaret, paused, as if also waiting for a punchline. When nothing came, she looked confused. “But…”

“See?! That’s what I was trying to say!” Rama said, throwing their hands in the air. Behind the obvious exasperation, their eyes were wide, their voice shaking a bit as they continued, “Margaret, this has been all fun and games, but it’s late, and the kids need to get home.”

Margaret shook her head slowly. “I—I’m sorry, but…they’re not here.”

Anti froze. Then immediately started to laugh. “Alright, real funny. But we REALLY need to get home.” He leaned past Margaret, looking into the house behind her. “Will! Michelle! C’mon, the joke’s up!”

“Anti…” Rama said in a low voice. “I-I think—”

“Oh dear, it’s all my fault!” Margaret suddenly gasped. “I’m so sorry, I could’ve sworn it was you. You showed up about half an hour ago, said you were going to take them home. You had a car—”

“All good, except I can’t fucking drive!” Anti suddenly snapped.

“Anti!” Rama snapped right back. “Margaret doesn’t know that! Don’t blame her for this!”

Anti took a few steps back, saying nothing. The ice cold realization was starting to sink in, and he was starting to physically shiver, as though he’d actually been hit with a bucket of water.

“What did this guy look like?” Rama asked, turning back to Margaret. “You said you thought it was Anti, but was there anything different, that stood out?”

Margaret shook her head. “I may be old, but my memory is clear as ever, and I am positive he looked just like Mr. McLoughlin here. And the kids seemed alright with it, too…” She trailed off, suddenly looking puzzled. “Which is a bit odd, innit? I’m sure that Will, at least, would know his dad couldn’t drive.”

Rama swore under their breath. “We have to—Anti?”

Anti was walking back down the path, pulling out his phone and hurriedly dialing a number. He paced along the sidewalk as he listened to it ringing on the other end. It was quickly picked up.

“Hel—”

“Did you pick up the kids?” Anti asked.

There was a slight pause on the other end. “Uh…I’m sorry, I-I don’t understand,” Jackie said.

“The kids. When you and Volt were driving back to your apartment, did you stop by to pick them up?” Anti insisted.

“Um…no,” Jackie said hesitantly. “Why? What’s wr—”

Anti hung up before he was even finished asking that question, already dialing a second number. This one took a while more to connect. “Did you pick up the kids?” he asked again.

“Anit?” JJ said. “What’s this about?”

“It’s about the kids, I thought that’d be clear. Did you and Marvin pick them up when you were heading home?”

“Why would we pick up Michelle and Will?” JJ was clearly confused. “Oh, I suppose that’s not an answer. Well, no, we didn’t. Weren’t you and Rama going to do that?” He paused. “Anti? Are you still there?”

Anti wasn’t hearing anything beyond the sudden rush of panicking white noise in his head. Now very pale, he hung up without another word.

Rama suddenly appeared next to him. “Anti? What’s wrong?”

Suddenly furious, Anti whirled on them. “My fucking son is missing, that’s what’s wrong!” He shouted.

Rama’s eyes flashed. “Yes, well, my fucking DAUGHTER is missing! So maybe you should listen to me when I try to tell you that we should call the police, like I’ve been trying to tell you for the past five minutes!”

Anti suddenly laughed. “Oh yes, let’s do that, why don’t we? Cause they did such a good job when Jackie disappeared! Fucking grand, go ahead!”

“Well it’s better than doing nothing!” Rama closed their eyes, pressing a hand to their chest as they took several deep breaths. “Look, how about I drive us to my house first? This could all be some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe they walked home, it’s only a couple blocks.”

“They didn’t walk home,” Anti said bitterly.

Rama blinked. “Well, you sound sure, don’t you?”

“Because sure, a six—sorry, seven year old might think that’s a good idea,” Anti said, folding his arms. “But a ten year old has enough common sense to not go walking out when it’s pitch ass black outside! Or, y’know, at least Will does. And you know he’d stop Michelle if she decided to do that!” Anti balled his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. “You go home and check, I’m going back to my home so I can blast Skillet through my headphones to calm down.” He scowled at Rama as they started to stay something else, then started to leave.

“Anti!” Rama called.

He didn’t look back. He had to get to a bus station and back home. Because right now, he was very conscious of the fact that he had a handgun in a hidden holster under his jacket. And that was something that he didn’t want to think about.
.............................................................................................

It was almost nine o’clock when Anti arrived back at his apartment, after taking an almost-empty bus halfway across the city. Once inside, he elected to use the stairs instead of the elevator, not wanting to stay still for any longer than absolutely necessary. It took a moment for him to find the key to his apartment. And once he did, he found that unlocking his door was pointless: it was already unlocked.

Alarm bells went off in his head—no, more than that, it was a warning siren, the type of which you’d hear during a state of immediate citywide crisis. He never left his door unlocked, not even when he was inside the apartment. And with Will…with him having disappeared not too long ago…

Anti reached inside his jacket to grab his handgun, but then immediately let go; he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he found someone inside and had a gun in his hand. So instead, he threw open the door, hand feeling the wall for the light switch. “Whoever the FUCK is in here—”

The lights flipped on.

Anti froze.

The inside of the apartment was ruined. The cupboards of the kitchenette were thrown open, their contents strewn about the counters, the sofa and chairs had their cushions and pillows pulled off and hurled about, and any available drawers had been yanked out of their places. But that was only a little alarming compared to everything else. The coffee table had been stabbed. Anti recognized all the knives from his collection, as well as plain kitchen knives, all driven point-down into the wooden surface. And the walls…someone had been drawing on the walls. They were covered in rough drawings of smiley faces. Some of the faces had their eyes X’d out, some of them had wide, gaping smiles, but they all were drawn in a red-brown liquid that, judging from the trails, had been dripping for a while and only recently started to congeal.

Anti stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. His eyes slowly trailed across the walls, tracing the drawn-on smiles. He approached the coffee table, bending down to touch the ruined surface. Who would do this?

Immediately, he knew. He was actually amazed he hadn’t realized sooner. Who would possibly have a motive for taking Will and Michelle? Maybe someone who’d taken people before. Who would draw smiles all over the walls? Maybe someone who’d never once stopped smiling as long as Anti and the others had known him.

“Oh my god…” Anti whispered. “You took Will.” His vision started to blur, and his chest rose and fell quickly, overcome with a sudden rise of sharp, burning, painful emotion. He grabbed the nearest knife, wrenching it from the surface of the table. And in one quick motion, he threw it at the wall. The point embedded itself in the eye of one of the smiley faces. “You took my son, you fucking bastard!”

He pulled another knife free, throwing it at the wall as well. He didn’t care that it merely bounced off the surface, he was already grabbing another and throwing it as well. “Fuck you!” He yelled. “Fuck you fuck you!” Words were not enough. He merely screamed as he yanked out another one of the knives. This one didn’t go into the wall. It went back into the table, stabbing it, again and again and again. His throat started to burn from how much he screamed, but he kept going. He grabbed a pillow nearby and slashed at it, feathers flying, again and again and again. He couldn’t clearly see what he was doing as the tears started to fall from his eyes, smearing his sight into mere colors. He turned back to the table, and down the knife went, again and again and again and again and agai—

Anti cried out, pulling back. The knife clattered to the wooden table surface. A bit of crimson stained its edge. Rubbing his eyes, he glanced down at his arm. The knife had sliced through his jacket, near his wrist. Blood was leaking from a cut. Anti’s eyes went wide, and he threw himself backwards, scrambling against the floor until his back hit a wall. His hand flew to his throat, rubbing a line across a specific part, hidden by the choker he usually wore.

“F…fuck…” Anti shook his head. He couldn’t be here. He COULDN'T BE HERE right now, or he might do something he’ll regret. Pushing himself to his feet, he reached inside his jacket and pulled his gun out of its holster, throwing it across the room, as far away from him as possible.

There was a small ding! sound from his pocket. Before he even realized what he was doing, Anti grabbed his phone and threw that as well. He winced as it cracked against the opposite wall. Fine. Whatever. He’d deal with that later. He couldn’t be here right now. Spinning around, Anti flung the door to his apartment open and ran outside, slamming the door behind him.
.............................................................................................

He didn’t know where he was going. It was nine o’clock—no, it was about nine forty now, when had so much time passed?—at night, and he didn’t want to be around people. He’d probably just end up snapping at anyone who saw him.

Actually, there was no ‘probably’ about it. He found himself back on another bus, heading…somewhere. He was sitting on a bench, arms folded around himself, shaking slightly. And there was a woman sitting on the bench across from him. Staring. He flinched, and growled, “Why don’t you just fucking murder me already?!” The woman jumped, and looked away. He got off on the next stop.

After that, he got on the next bus that appeared, not caring where it took him. He stayed there until it pulled into a small station, and the driver looked back at him and said, “Hey. Buses stopping for the night, buddy. If you need to get somewhere, the train station’s right here.” Anti stared at her, then stood up and walked off silently.

The city had a train system, though not a big or extensive one. There were only three major stops, and it appeared as though he’d arrived at the one in the center of the city. This station doubled as a hub for the buses. It should have been fairly busy, even this late at night, but there was no one there. It seemed all the bus drivers had clocked out, and there were no passengers waiting for the train. Anti walked up onto the station platform, looking up at the round lamps giving off an orange-yellow glow. After a moment, he walked over to the nearest bench and sat down.

It was never truly quiet in a city, but this is as close as it got. The small amount of traffic was just a distant noise. And there didn’t seem to be a train coming anytime soon. Anti stared at the tracks. What if he just jumped onto them? And then a train appeared? What would happen? Anti stopped himself before he could go any farther down that path. He knew exactly what would happen, and it wasn’t something he wanted. He didn’t even want to think about it.

Of course, that didn’t stop that thought from coming back into his mind barely a minute later. This time, Anti was already thinking about who would be around to clean up the mess before he managed to catch himself. “F…fuck…” he said, physically flinching. He curled his hands into fists, digging his nails into his palms. “Stop it,” he muttered. “You were doing so good with…these.”

Time passed. How much, he wasn’t exactly sure. He was too deep in his own head, trying not to think about the train coming, trying not to think about what might be happening to Will and Michelle, trying not to think about…a lot of things.

Something was flickering in the corner of his vision.

Anti blinked, looking over in that direction. There was a large trashcan in the middle of the train station. And something was glowing inside it. Anti frowned, watching it. Had someone thrown away a glow stick or something? But then, what was the movement, and why was he just noticing it now?

Sighing, Anti stood up and walked over to the trashcan. Maybe it was a discarded toy or something that had just found a second wind in its batteries. Leaning over, he peered inside the can.

It was definitely NOT a glow stick OR a toy.

Puzzled, Anti stared at it a while longer. And then it suddenly moved, and he yelled, stumbling back. “Wh—I’m—fuck—am I—?” He couldn’t even find the right exclamation to use. With wide eyes, he kept staring at the trash can, the glow still coming from inside.

There was a rumbling sound, and Anti looked over to see a train approaching the station. Quickly, he scrambled over to the platform, stopping just behind the yellow line that marked the safest distance to stand at. The train slowed to a halt, and as soon as the doors opened Anti jumped inside the artificial white light of the train car, grabbing the nearest pole for standing room. As the train pulled away, he kept staring at the platform while it faded into the distance.
.............................................................................................

He was in the north part of the city now, and he had no idea what time it was. But judging by the emptiness of the streets and the fact that most of the businesses were closed, it was pretty closed. Anti walked for a while, taking random turns at crossroads, sometimes walking across the street whenever he felt like it. Eventually, he saw a building that was lit up, a tiny little corner diner with a neon sign outside advertising twenty-four hour service. He ducked inside, and it was only when he was hit with a blast of warm air that he realized how cold he’d been.

Strained pop music was playing in the air. The diner was fairly clean, most of the furniture made of wood—or at least plastic meant to resemble wood. A teenage boy was loitering behind the counter with earbuds in, though he snapped to attention when he saw Anti walk in. “Uh…hi, welcome to the Cup and Platter,” he said.

Anti didn’t even acknowledge him, walking over to the nearest booth and sitting down, immediately burying his head in his folded arms.

After a moment, footsteps approached the booth, and Anti looked up again to see the teenager hovering nearby, holding a pen and a notebook. “Uh, sir, is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yeah, why don’t you get some fucking better music in here?” Anti snapped.

The teenager blinked. “Um…well I can’t do anything about that. But I can get you a menu? And talk to my manager about the music?”

Anti huffed, and slammed his head into the table hard enough to rattle the salt and pepper shakers.

“Whoa!” The teenager jumped. “I—sir, if it’s really bothering you—”

“Just shut up,” Anti growled. “Just…” He sighed. “A menu, fine. You do that, I’ll…yeah.”

The teenager hesitated, then nodded and backed up. He grabbed a laminated menu from behind the counter and walked back over to drop it off before going back around the counter.

Anti glanced over the menu. Mostly breakfast foods and sandwiches. Sighing again, he dropped it and set his head back down on the table. He didn’t want to eat right now. But maybe they’d kick him out if he didn’t order anything…fine, he’d get something small. In a minute.

Before he could…well, he didn’t know exactly what he was planning to do, other than space out. But before he could properly space out, the teenager once again walked up to the booth. “Are…you ready to order, sir?” he asked.

“Fucking…fine, can I have a black coffee and a plate of chips?” Anti asked. He instinctively looked across the booth to ask Will what he wanted, only to get a hot knife in the chest as he remembered.

“Got it.” The teenager didn’t even bother to write that down. “I’ll be right back, sir.”

It didn’t take long for the coffee and fries to arrive. Anti immediately grabbed the coffee cup and downed it. The bitter liquid was scalding hot, burning his throat, but he finished the whole thing in one go anyway, then slammed his head down on the table again. “Fuck everything,” he muttered. He folded his arms around his head, blocking out all light. Only a few minutes later, despite the caffeine in his system, he managed to fall asleep.
.............................................................................................

“Oh my god oh my god oh my goooood.” Anti paced the room, folding and unfolding his arms. “Oh my fucking god this is the worst idea! Who let me do this?”

Jackie watched from the chair where he was sitting with some amusement. “You’re really nervous, aren’t you?”

“Oh, fucking understatement of the year!” Anti whirled on him. “I can’t fucking believe I thought this was a good idea! Why didn’t you stop me?!”

“Well, you really want to, don’t you?” Jackie reasoned.

Anti laughed. “Of course I do. But sometimes I also want to go skydiving without a parachute, that doesn’t mean I should. Fuck!” He buried his face in his hands. “Oh my god, I’m gonna fuck up. I’m gonna fucking…I-I’ll have to call CPS on myself, I’m done, I—”

“You’re not gonna have to do that,” Jackie said, standing up and walking over. He placed a hand on Anti’s shoulder, then quickly withdrew it when Anti flinched. “You’re very good with Michelle, why would this be any different?”

“Because Michelle’s three,” Anti explained. “And I’m not her dad. All I have to do is make sure she eats and doesn’t break anything. With a kid of my own I-I have to—to help him with school, make sure he stays out of trouble, make sure he never feels like I’m not listening to him, I gotta set a good example—I am the worst person to look to as a good example! Fuck!”

“Anti. Stop.” Jackie’s voice turned firm. “You are totally capable of all of that, no matter what you think. Clearly, you already know what to do. And you have the skills to pull it off.” He smiled a bit. “Y’know, you’re kinda like a hedgehog.”

That was strange enough to snap Anti out of his spiraling thoughts. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Cause you’re all pointy, but you can also be soft,” Jackie said teasingly.

Anti rolled his eyes. “I’m not soft.”

“But you can be. I’ve seen it,” Jackie said, smile widening. “Look, what matters most is that you love your kid, and you listen to him. And of course, there’s all the material providing for him, but the agency wouldn’t have let you through unless you could do that.” Jackie shook his head. “I’m getting off topic. Love and listening. Those are things you can do, and do well.”

Anti looked at him, saying nothing, but his expression obviously distressed.

“It might be a little…awkward at first,” Jackie said. “But if you’re open with him, and talk to him, then it’ll all turn out okay. Plus, you can always ask me and Rama for advice if you need to.”

“I just…fuck.” Anti pressed a hand to his throat, feeling his breath pass in and out. “What if I don’t do enough? What if he ends up lighting a fire behind the school dumpster? Or breaking a shop window and threatening people with the cut glass? Or messing with a computer until it sends emails to half the adults in town that is just a bunch of insults and swearing? Or—”

Jackie laughed. “Those are some ridiculous, and oddly specific scenarios.”

Anti glared at him. “I am literally naming events from my childhood, Jackie.”

“I…oh.” Jackie seemed momentarily taken aback by that.

“Yeah, I was a little shit and my mom did nothing about it, how am I supposed to know what to do?!”

“Well, I suppose that’s where you can ask for advice,” Jackie said slowly. “Also, if you really care about this kid, and show that you care, and teach and explain everything to him, you’ll never have to worry about him acting out, cause he won’t have reason to.”

Anti closed his eyes, breathing deeply. “Fuck.”

“Y’know that’s starting to not sound like a word.”

That caused a bout of laughter. “Yeah,” Anti muttered. He paused, rubbing his upper arms. “I…I guess I have some idea what to do…”

“And you’ll be great at it!” Jackie said encouragingly. “Say it. Tell me you’ll be great at it.”

“I…I’ll be great at it.”

Jackie paused, then put his hand on Anti’s shoulder again. “You can do this, Anti. Just know you can.”
.............................................................................................

Anti woke up, and the first thing he noticed was that his back hurt. He groaned, and straightened, causing a sudden flare of pain as he shifted position. The second thing he noticed was that his eyes were wet, and he hurriedly wiped them and looked around. The diner looked almost the same, except now the teenage boy was gone, replaced by an older woman, who was currently shaking his shoulder. “Sir, you’ve been here for far too long,” she said.

“How long?” Anti asked.

“A couple hours. We’ve been patient, but you simply must leave now.”

Anti sighed. He looked out the window—

No. There was no way. He must be seeing things.

“Uh, yeah.” Anti dug into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, handing the woman a twenty, more than enough to cover what he ordered. “Keep the change, I’ll…go.” And he stood up and left, heading outside. He had to get a closer look at this.

It was across the street. His eyes locked on it. This had to be a trick, right? Maybe it was Distorter, he could cause illusions. “This isn’t funny!” He shouted. “Just come out and tell you what you want!” He barely noticed that the woman inside the diner was giving him several odd looks.

It moved.

Anti immediately jumped, and ran in the opposite direction.
.............................................................................................

The run eventually slowed to a walk once Anti realized he’d outrun it. Though he kept walking. What the hell was it? Was he just losing his mind? “About time,” he muttered, laughing darkly. But though he joked, the thing was actually kind of scaring him. He didn’t want to start seeing things. He had enough problems as it was.

He walked through the city, heading vaguely south but not really caring how winding the path he took was. After a while, he ended up at the park. Which caused him to pause. He hadn’t walked THAT far, had he? Come to think of it, the sky was significantly lighter than it had been when he left the diner.

Well, he was here now. He sat down on the nearest bench, and once he did, he realized how much his feet and legs were actually hurting. “It’s always like this,” he mumbled. “Hey, body, why don’t you fucking, uh…let me know when shit’s happening to me? Isn’t that your job?” He fell silent for a moment. Then he shifted, laying down on the bench. He closed his eyes for a moment…
.............................................................................................

Anti woke up to sunlight, red through his closed eyelids. Immediately, he realized he fell asleep, and he groaned. It had been years since he fell asleep on a park bench.

And there was something on his chest. Something rather light, but heavy enough to be noticeable, and clearly not a leaf or anything. He opened his eyes—

“What the fuck?!” He shouted, flailing and tumbling off the bench. The thing flew into the air, and stayed there. Anti scrambled to his feet and broke into a run again. What was this thing?! Why had he seen it three times so far?! What was he supposed to do about it?!

Well, either he was seeing things, or some magic shit was going on. And though he wasn’t much experienced in either of those matters, he knew people who did. Anti reached for his pocket, but then remembered how he’d thrown his phone, back in his apartment. He sighed. Guess he’ll have to head back.
.............................................................................................

He ended up walking back to his apartment, because…well why not? Luckily, he hadn’t lost he key while he was out. Standing outside the apartment door, he hesitated, but took a deep breath and headed inside.

Nothing had changed. The room was still a mess, the table was still bristling with knives, and the smiles were still drawn on the walls. Anti tried to not look at any of this, eyes locking onto his phone on the floor as he navigated around the mess. He picked up the phone, examining it for damage. The screen was cracked, but it seemed alright otherwise. Relieved, Anti opened the door to his recording room and walked inside, not closing it behind him.

The phone was on low battery, so he rummaged around for a charger and plugged it in. While he waited, he slowly went about taking the knives out of the table and putting them back on the shelf where they were supposed to be. It seemed their glass case had been opened, but the lock still worked. Once all the knives, even the kitchen ones, were inside the case, Anti picked up his handgun and put it in there as well, closing the case and locking it. Quickly, he put the key all the way into one of the kitchenette cabinets.

Then he turned his head slightly and saw it.

Anti gasped, pressing against the wall, his eyes locked on it. “What the fuck do you want?!” He shouted. It didn’t respond.

Quickly, he rushed back to the recording room, unplugging his phone and turning it on. He glanced up and saw it in the doorway of the room. “No,” he said warily, backing up until he was against the opposite wall. When it didn’t move further, he sank down to sit on the floor, and opened up the group chat he had with the others.

The group chat was a fairly recent development. All of them were still getting used to using it, but it appeared as though there had been a string of new messages since he last used it. Not bothering to read them, Anti typed out, "Hey anyone here?"

Immediately, there were two responses: JJ sent "ANTI???" and Schneep sent "Anti?!?! "

"Oh good you are," Anti typed.

"Where the FUCK have you been?!" Schneep asked.

"Nevermind that," Anti replied.

"Anti, I’m sorry, but you’ve been gone for THE WHOLE NIGHT," JJ stressed. "What happened? Are you alright?"

The whole night? Anti checked the time on his phone and—holy shit, it was a little after noon. Anti sighed. Well, it wasn’t the first time he’d disappeared. Though it had been a while…he couldn’t believe he did it again; he thought he’d fixed that. "Long story, more important things," Anti said. "How can you tell if youre hallucinating?"

Schneep replied immediately. "If you look at it in a mirror or cell phone and it’s not there, then it’s a hallucination. Or you can take a picture and ask someone else if it’s there."

Anti looked up at the thing in the doorway. Slowly, he raised his phone and snapped a picture, sending it to the chat. "Is there a thing there?"

The others took a while to reply, and then Schneep sent: "Is this a prank? It is in very poor taste if it is, Anti."

"What?? No! Just tell me if its there!"

"Yes, theres a floating green eyeball in the picture," JJ sent.

Anti looked up again. The eyeball was about the size of a baseball, and it was looking right at him as it hovered. It was also glowing slightly. As Anti stared at it, its iris squished a bit, and the optic nerve coming from it swished a bit. "Well then what the fuck is it???" Anti asked. "Jackson youre the magic man, what is it?!"

"I don’t know," JJ replied. I"’ve never seen or even heard of anything like that before."

"WAIT I THOUGHT THAT WAS PHOTO SHOPPED, YOU ARE SERIOUS?!" Schneep asked.

The eyeball moved closer, and Anti let out an embarrassing shriek. It immediately stopped. “What do you want?!” He repeated.

After a quiet moment, the eyeball dropped down to the ground, bouncing a bit where it landed. It waved its optic nerve in the air. Staring, Anti started to take a video, then sent it to the chat as well. "DOES THIS LOOK FUCKING FAKE, VOLT?!"

"I DO NOT KNOW, YOU ARE VERY SKILLED WITH TECHNOLOGY!" Schneep replied.

Anti looked over at the eyeball again. “Can…can you say something?” he asked.

The eyeball wiggled side to side, like someone shaking their head.

“Was that a no?”

Another wiggle.

“Can you give me a yes?”

The eyeball bounced up and down.

Anti considered this. Knowing it could at least understand him made him a little less freaked out, though his heart was still pounding with the leftover adrenaline of thinking he was finally losing it. “Are…are you here…” He swallowed nervously. “…cause of what happened with Will? And Michelle?”

The eyeball tilted, then wiggled in another ‘No.’

“Oh…” Anti fell quiet. “What…are you doing here, then?” The eyeball didn’t respond, but instead rose into the air and inched closer. “Uh…not a yes or no, I-I get it. Uh…can you at least tell me if you’re here to hurt me? Are you here to somehow, like…I-I dunno, kill me or fuck with me?”

The eyeball stopped, pupil widening in an almost shocked way. It hurriedly wiggled a ‘No.’

“Okay…” Anti wasn’t sure where to go with this.

His phone started ringing. Anti looked down at the Caller ID, then picked it up.

“Anti?!” Jackie’s voice was breathless, as if he’d just run a marathon. “Anti are you okay?! What happened?! Are you alright?”

“‘M fine, Jackie,” Anti said.

“Are you sure?” Jackie asked.

Well, in actuality, ‘alright’ was subjective. Anti was tired, he had a cut on his arm that wasn’t covered, his body was aching in several places, and his heart was hurting, crying out. But was he in immediate danger? No. “Yeah, I’m sure,” Anti said.

“Jesus fuck!” Jackie shouted. “Y-you can’t just—I-I thought you were—we all thought you were—right after Michelle and Will, they—it was Distorter, I know it, he likes kids, I mean, not in a creepy way, or at least not in a way that’s creepier than he already is—fuck! Anti, we—Anti, I—h-he took—we thought he got you too, and I-I couldn’t—” A short sob interrupted the halting flow of words. “I couldn’t d-deal with…Michelle is gone, a-and you just—you were gone—”

“Hey, hey, Jackie, it’s okay,” Anti said, trying to sound reassuring. It was a bit difficult, but he tried. “I’m okay. And we’re going to get the kids back.”

On the other end, he could hear Jackie crying softly. “Not…give me a moment, Anti, I-I can’t do both these at once. Just…fuck, don’t do that again.”

“I won’t,” Anti said. He almost smiled. It was ironic, wasn’t it? Before he met Jackie and the others, he disappeared all the time. And nobody ever freaked out about him vanishing for a night or a day or even a few of them. If only Jackie knew. “I’m okay, I promise.”

There was another voice on the other end. Even from the distance, he recognized the accent. “Volt, I’m fine,” Jackie said, voice a bit quieter as if he was backing away from the phone. “I’m fi—well, no, but…just not that right now, I-I can’t do it.”

“Are you okay?” Anti asked softly.

“Not as not okay as I was a while ago,” Jackie said, returning to the phone. “You’re sure you’re alright? Volt says you thought you were hallucinating?”

Anti laughed. “I thought, yeah. But turns out it’s just…” He stared at the eyeball. It was closer now, just a meter away from him. “It’s just some weird magic shit. If it sticks around, we should call a meeting about it, but…I have to deal with this right now.”

“Oh. Okay. Sh-should I hang up?”

“If you want to.” Anti paused. “But…thanks for calling.”

“No problem,” Jackie said quietly. And he hung up.

Anti stared at the eyeball more intensely. “Is…is there any way you could tell me what you want?” he asked.

The eyeball swished its nerve. Then suddenly, it leaped forward. Anti jolted, trying to back up before remembering he was against the wall. The eyeball landed on his lap, then jumped up onto his shoulder, and…and stopped. It started to rub against his neck, like a dog or a cat nuzzling against its owner. Anti remained tense for a while, but when nothing happened, he slowly relaxed. “Uh…do you just want…to hang out?”

The eyeball appeared in front of his face. Its tail moved in a motion that could almost be considered a ‘so-so’ gesture.

“Oh…” Anti didn’t know how to respond from there. “Well…uh, feel free to.”

The eyeball bounced, and went back to sitting on his shoulder.

Anti stayed there, staring through the room’s open door to the ruined living room and kitchenette beyond. In just one night…it had all gone downhill. His son was gone, along with his best friend’s daughter. And he’d just…lost it. In a way he hadn’t in a while.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall. Tears started to leak from his eyes. And his shoulders started to shake. And with the strange eyeball doing its best to cuddle against him, Anti started to cry.