Part Sixteen of the Inverted AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a fic series I wrote from December 2018 to August 2021. Chase, alone in the house, tries desperately to get Jack to listen to him. But then, a glitch arrives...]
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“You guys can’t, like…wait until the others get back?” Chase asked.

“What, scared to be home alone?” Jackie asked, tugging on his mask. “It’ll be fine, dude. Last night was fine, tonight’s gonna be fine too. And if you start to feel a little…I don’t know, nervous, then you can always just. You know.” When Chase didn’t look reassured, Jackie sighed. “Look, we go out every night, you know this. Marvin and Jameson said they’d be back in a couple hours. You can manage two hours alone with them.”

“…alright,” Chase muttered. He still wasn’t sure he could, but he knew there would be no convincing these two.

“Jackie! Hurry! I am going to be late and I do not want to leave without you!” Schneep was hovering by the front door.

“Late to what? The place doesn’t even open until you get there to—okay, you know what? Never mind.” Jackie gave Chase a quick one-armed hug. “It’s going to be fine. See you in the morning.” And with that, he crossed the room to join Schneep, and the two of them set off into the night.

Chase sighed, then stopped leaning against the wall and walked over into the kitchen. From there, he opened one of the high-up cabinets and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a glass. He wanted to do it. He did. But he needed to calm his nerves first.

It took a while, but eventually he felt ready. The walk to the basement stairs seemed longer than usual, as did the journey downwards. Once he reached the underground hallway, he considered his options, eyes darting between two doors. After a frozen moment, he chose the first one on the right. Jameson had given him the key to the room, which he now took out of his pocket and used to unlock the door. He stood there for a minute with his hand on the handle, taking deep breaths. Then, quickly, he turned the knob, pulled open the door just wide enough, darted inside, and pulled it shut behind him.

He shut it just in time. Someone slammed into the closed door, and the only reason it didn’t open again was because Chase was pulling on the handle, keeping it shut. “Calm down,” Chase said. “It’s just me.”

“Oh, ‘just you’? ‘Just you,’ huh?” Jack scowled. “Get out of the way.”

“I can’t do that.” Chase was standing in front of the door, the handle directly behind his back.

“I think you can!”

“Well, I mean, I’m physically able to, but, uh…if I do that, we won’t get to talk.” While he was speaking, Chase passed the key he was still holding from one hand to another, and locked the door. He wasn’t sure why this room could be locked from both sides, but he was sure Jameson had a reason.

Jack’s eyes narrowed the moment he heard the lock click. Chase swallowed the sudden knot in his throat. “Okay, fine. What do you want to talk about? Because it doesn’t matter what the fuck it is, I’m not going to listen.” As if to prove this, Jack turned around and walked a few feet away, folding his arms.

“Look, you deserve an explanation—”

“Oh, do I?! I don’t think any explanation could really excuse this shit. Unless your explanation is ‘I wanted to fuck with my former best friend’s head.’”

Chase made a strange, strangled squeak. “No, that’s not what—look, just listen to what I have to say.”

Jack didn’t respond to that, merely stayed where he was, back to Chase.

“Okay. Okay.” Chase took a deep breath. “I was really excited when I found out we’d moved to the same city. I thought, hey, we could reconnect. And we were! But then you…you started to change. You were always busy, and every time I called you always had something planned with someone else. Jack, that was…that was so scary. I’d just lost my family, any attempts I made to get new friends always failed, everything was going downhill with the channel, my job, and these guys were no help, they tried to support, but it just wasn’t helping. I got desperate. I just…went to the last resort.”

After a moment of silence, Jack turned around. “You know, that’s not how I remember it at all. I don’t know about you but I thought we were still pretty good friends. The problem here is that you think me having a life outside of you somehow means I don’t like you anymore. And that couldn’t be further from the truth.” He paused. “I mean, guess what? Kidnapping, manipulating, and brainwashing someone isn’t going to make them like you either! So maybe you should’ve thought through your numerous OTHER options before going to ‘the last resort.’”

“Jack, you still don’t get it!” Chase pleaded. “I—I wasn’t thinking straight. I was freaking out. And then once everything was done, I was stuck. If I stopped the spell, you would have…I…I know it was a bad thing, an awful thing to do—”

“But you did it anyway.” Jack shook his head. “Look, if you think someone leaving you once this—this made-up positive feeling, whatever it is, faded away…if you think that’s worse than keeping them there against their will, your priorities are seriously fucked up.”

Chase choked, covering his mouth with one hand. His eyes were watering. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid, exactly what he was afraid of happening. Jack hated him. He…he really did. There wasn’t anything real left. But…he couldn’t lose him. He couldn’t let go. “Jack, please…”

Jack stared at him. His features seemed to soften, just a bit. “Chase. You did a bad thing. A horrible, messed-up thing. I can’t…I can’t just…forget that. But I can…I recognize that you need help. So go fucking get it. Stop dragging me down with you while you’re sinking and expecting me to make you float. Go grab your own life saver, don’t make me into one.” He turned around again. “Now go away.”

Chase was at a loss for words. So he simply unlocked the door and backed out into the hallway, re-locking it once he was outside. He leaned his forehead against the door with a dull thunk. No matter what he did, it never worked out, did it? Every time he tried to hold on to something he loved, it always slipped away. And that was his fault. He held on too tightly. Because that was just the sort of stupid, terrible, horrible excuse for a person he was.

He glanced down the hall toward the other door. If he was going to get yelled at some more, he needed something to numb the sting of the words. And so he started back up the stairs.

But he only got up a couple steps before the lights shut off.

“What the…?” He couldn’t see anything, not even when he waved his hand in front of his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, but it wouldn’t turn on. For a moment, he was resigned to blindly feeling his way up the stairs, until he remembered. He dug around even deeper in his pocket and pulled out a lighter, which burst into flickering flame. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough. He sighed in relief, glad that Jackie had forgotten to ask for it back yesterday. But he was still upset that he had to go around the back of the house to reset the circuit breaker.

Something was deeply wrong.

As he climbed the stairs, things began to brighten, but not in the way they should have. The light that was gradually filtering down the staircase was red. Maybe that whiskey he had was getting to him? But alcohol didn’t cause hallucinations. There was also a low whine beneath his hearing, one that sounded not quite electronic, not quite electric, and not quite anything else.

He reached the top of the stairs. The red light was pouring through the doorway at the top, except for the spot where it was blocked by the dark shape of a man facing him. Shadows were wavering and leaping impossibly, and the world was bending around them. The man’s head tilted, outlines and shadows following it into position. And with a hiss of black noise, the man’s right eye lit up with a piercing green light.

Chase stepped backwards, going down a stair. He could feel his heart pounding through his pulse, rising rapidly. His breathing was going by too quickly, and his body was shaking so much that the flame in the lighter was practically going out. He was…scared. He was TERRIFIED. But he why? He knew who this was, what this was…didn’t he?

“W̢̧͡he͞͝re̡ ̶͏҉ar̵͠e͝ ͝t̷͡h̸͝e̕y̷?”

Chase just shook his head.

A laugh rang out, echoing and circling around him in a hellish cacophony. He pressed one hand to one ear, still holding the lighter in the other. “I̧ ͞d̶on̢’t e̸ven k҉n͞ow̸ ̵w͟h̶y I ask̷,” Anti hissed. “I͠ alręad҉y ̶kn̶ǫw̡, An͟d ҉y͏ou͞'̨re in͢ m̸y̛ ̶wa͝y̵.”

“You…no. No, you can’t,” Chase said quietly, realizing what he was planning.

“C͡an̡'t͟ ̧I͢?̧” Reality was bleeding at the edges. Anti stepped forward, and it wasn’t clear where he was or how fast he was going, until sooner than Chase thought possible, Anti was in front of him. Chase tried to back away, but found himself teetering on the edge of a stair, and he worked quickly to regain his balance. “L͡e̴t̡ ͡m͞e ̸a̢sk̛ yo͝u…” The words bounced around his skull. “D͝o ̡y̶ou t͠h̸ink̕ y͏o̡u h̸av͢e͠ a righ͞t to thi͞s̛? T͞o̕ th͢e̛m͞?̷” A pair of hands grabbed his shirt, pulling him close. “Y̛ou ̵to͡o̶k m҉y̵ on͞ly ̧fr̨ie͡n̶d ͡from̕ ̷m͢e ̴beca͟u͟se̵ yoư ͠we̸re ̶scared̡ I'ḑ s͟how h̷i͡m ͟wha̶t͠ ͏y̸o̕ư rea͡l͝ly ̡a҉re͟!”

“N-no…” Chase clawed at the hands holding him, trying to pry the fingers away, but he was met with a sharp, slicing pain instead. He gasped, dropping the lighter, which tumbled down the stairs into the darkness, leaving only the red light. “No, that’s not…I just want…I just want things to go back to the way they were.”

“So҉ do͡ p͝l̕ȩn̵ţy ͏of p̢eo͝ple̸.͏” The green light of the eye flared again, and Chase cried out, the sight somehow making his fear spike. “B̧ut ͝t̶h̨ey̵ m҉an͡ąge to͏ ̶not͏ fo̵rce̸ th͠o̢se͠ ̢a͏ro̷u͡ņd͟ th͞em҉ t͟o s̡t̷ay͡.”

“Stop,” Chase whispered. “Please stop. I-I know, I know. I know I’m horrible, but I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Th͠e͟n͞ ҉fi͠nd ͠s̶omeo͝ne who͞ ͝d̷o͡es!” Chase flinched as the words cut through his heart. “Aņd ̷ins̶t͠e͞a̶d ͢o͢f just̕ ͡wall̕ow͠ing̶ ͢i̡n ̡ho͢w͢ t̛e̵rrible ̴yo͟u͢ are and͢ ̶us̡ing ̴it as̸ a̧n e̷xcu̵se,͞ ͢fuck̵in̨g d͟o ̕s̴ometh͠i̕ng͞ ̶a҉bou̢t it!”

“I-I-I can’t.” Chase shuddered. “I can’t, I can’t!”

The electric whining increased, the myriad of tones stabbing into Chase’s mind. Warm liquid was running from his eyes, and he didn’t think it was tears.

And then it stopped. Anti let go of his shirt, and Chase stumbled back, once again almost falling down the staircase. He gasped for air that was suddenly lacking, and looked up into the shadowed double-face.

“Y̶ơu ̸h̨̢a̛v̶e̛͟n͢'͏̸t ͝͏͏e̛v̵e̷n̢ ̸͢t̷r̢ie̵d͡.”

And Anti was holding him, a hand on either side of his head, and Chase was staring into that green light that made the rest of the world dark. He gasped, and he opened his mouth to scream, but the sound died before it came out. The staticky whine from before was back, and it was inside him. He could feel it pounding through his veins, flowing through his nerves.

Suddenly he was so…tired.

Chase closed his eyes, and it was dark. Soon the silence followed.

The harsh red light faded, becoming just a bit gentler. Anti set the limp Chase down on the steps, not really caring much about making him comfortable. And he took a moment to just…stare at him.

Maybe Chase had a chance. Maybe somehow, he could figure out whatever was going on with him. Maybe he could manage to find his way back to whatever he’d left behind long ago. But that all depended on his willingness to take that first step.

Well, he’d have some time to consider it. “Sle̢e͏p ͡w̛el͏l,̕ C͟h̡a̶se,” Anti whispered, no trace of any tone in his voice. Then he turned his attention down the stairs.
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The next time the door opened, Jack was ready. There wasn’t much in the room he could use, probably by design. In fact, there was really only the three beds with their pillows and sheets. But at this point, he’d use whatever he had. He wasn’t sure how long it would be before they managed to fix the magic hypnotizing watch, or whatever it was, that allowed the spell to be cast. He goth the feeling it was soon, though, so he had to at least make an attempt. Even if that attempt was kind of pathetic. Which is all a really long way of saying the minute the door opened and someone walked inside the room, Jack threw a pillow at him and tried to rush past while he was distracted.

He was actually surprised when he managed to actually push the door open immediately, so much so that he ended up barreling across the hall and smacking straight into the opposite wall. It didn’t hurt, except for the shock of actually being outside the room he’d been stuck in for…at least a couple days.

“Really? That was your plan?” said a voice. “You do realize that wouldn’t have worked on anyone who really wanted to keep you in there?” It was…familiar.

Jack spun around. Standing in the doorway of the room was a man who looked just like him. He wore a black shirt and dark blue ripped jeans, and there was a green scarf wrapped around his neck. His left eye was blue, while his right was…nothing. Just black, too black to be simply an empty socket. Staring at it sent shivers of fear down his spine. Jack recognized him immediately. “Anti,” he breathed.

“In the flesh. M͝o̴stly.” Anti cracked his head to the side and a flurry of pixels broke away. “Hello…hi, Jack.”

Jack gaped at him for a moment. A long enough moment for Anti’s fingers to begin twitching and his eye to dart side to side. And then, with no warning at all, Jack ran forward and threw his arms around Anti. “Oh my god, you’re here! You’re really here!” He quickly broke away. Anti wasn’t too big on contact with humans. Then, his eyes narrowed as a thought occurred to him. “Unless you’re not really here. Unless…this is another trick.”

Anti chuckled. “Good. You’ve caught on to their tricks.”

“Where was the first place we met?” Jack asked. “No, wait, never mind, he saw that one. Umm…no, he knows about Sam too. How about…that dream. The last one I had, where did it take place?”

“Hospital,” Anti answered promptly. “Run-down, shitty sort of hospital. In the waiting room. Probably inspired by a video game you were playing at the time, because that’s usually what’s on your mind.”

Jack relaxed, shoulders slumping. He was pretty sure there was no way anyone could have found out about that particular dream. “Oh thank fucking god,” he sighed. “What…what are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to get you out, genius.”

“R…really?” Jack didn’t dare to let his hopes rise. “But…they’re all—”

“The two magic men are out trying to fix the talisman, wannabe Batman is out on the streets, and your local horror movie doctor is at his, ah, clinic,” Anti summarized. “Brody was still here, but I got around him pretty easily.”

“So…we can just…leave?” A tightness in Jack’s chest was loosening for the first time in years.

“Well…not yet.” Anti looked down the hall. “Come on, there’s someone else we need to get.”

Curious, Jack followed Anti down to another door. He watched as Anti twisted the handle and pulled it open, seemingly disregarding the fact that the door was locked. When it was open all the way, Jack stepped forward to peer into the room.

It was identical to the one he’d been trapped in, with a lamp hanging from the ceiling and three beds with sparse bedding. On the leftmost bed, there was a woman sitting cross-legged, leaning against the headboard with her eyes closed. Her curly blonde hair was a bit longer than the shoulder-length cut it usually was, but she looked alright otherwise. Her eyes flew open when she heard the door creak. “Anti?” she gasped, astonished. Then she looked over at the other man and said in complete and utter shock, “Jack?!”

“Wh—Stacy?!” Jack asked, eyes wide.

“You two know each other?” Anti asked, looking back and forth between them.

“Of course I know him, he’s Chase’s best friend!” Stacy said, standing up. “We went to the same university too.”

“Jesus, I haven’t seen you since the divorce,” Jack said. “Did you cut your hair?”

“Yeah. But what are you doing here?”

“The same thing you’re doing, I expect.”

“Jack is my friend,” Anti butt in. “It’s a long story, but he’s been here for a while, and I’ve been trying to get him back.”

“…oh god. Oh, I see,” Stacy whispered. “I’m so sorry, Jack.”

“Well. It’s okay.” Jack shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket. “Actually, it’s not, but thanks. Now can we get out of here?”

“Yes, please?” Stacy asked, a note of panic tinged in her voice. “I need to see if the kids are alright.”

“Probably a good idea,” Anti muttered. “C’mon. I can get you both there quickly.”

Stacy blinked. “I, um, I thought you said you couldn’t glitch living things?”

“Oh, this isn’t glitching,” Anti smiled, a brief note of green coming to life in his blank black eye. “It’s a…shortcut. Though I do suggest you both close your eyes while walking through there, you probably wouldn’t like what you’d see.”

Stacy gave Jack a look that was part-curious, mostly-panic. Jack just shrugged. “I don’t get it any more than you do. Anti’s weird. He does his own thing. But we should probably listen to him. Now, please tell me you’re ready to go.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Stacy nodded.
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It only took about a minute to walk through Anti’s “shortcut,” and neither Jack nor Stacy looked while walking through it. They weren’t sure what it was, but it had a sort of…tingly, electric feeling that didn’t seem entirely good. When they opened their eyes, the three of them were standing on the sidewalk outside Stacy’s house. She immediately rushed to the door, threw it open, and ran inside. Anti and Jack followed at a slower pace.

“Wait.” Before Anti went inside the house, he reached to the side and his hand disappeared, like he’d put it in a pocket of the world. When he withdrew it, he was holding a familiar white eye-patch, which he tied into place. And Jack was suddenly aware of an absence of a low-level humming, and that the hairs on the back of his neck had been raised and on edge this entire time.

“I was wondering where you’d put that,” Jack muttered. “Didn’t want to scare the kids?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool.” Jack pushed open the slightly ajar front door and stepped inside. Instantly, a glowing green ball was flying at his face. “Sam? Sam!” Jack laughed as the tennis ball sized eye vigorously nuzzled his neck and face, iris squished to almost closed. “I missed you too, buddy! What’re you doing here? Well, that’s good, then, kids need supervision.”

Anti watched the reunion, the corner of his mouth twitching. From the kitchen, he could hear joyous children’s shrieks, matched by the sound of Stacy’s voice. He pulled at his scarf, gently touching the bandages underneath. The reminder of what was underneath there, of the promise he’d made to himself, caused the almost-smile to fall. “Jack,” he said quietly. “We can’t stay.”

Jack, who was now patting the eyeball sitting on his shoulder, looked over at him. “What d’you mean?”

Anti looked him in the eyes. “They’re going to come for you, Jack. They don’t like losing, and they don’t like losing their stuff.”

Jack’s face fell. Sam flicked their nerve-tail, curling it around them. “You’re…right,” he whispered, looking down at the floor. “You’re right. We can’t stay here, they can find us. But…I don’t know, where else are we supposed to go?”

“Hmm…” Anti pursed his lips. “I’m guessing you don’t exactly have friends you could stay with. I doubt they’d let you.”

Jack looked up. “Actually…I had a few online friends.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Most of them live in the US. We could stay with one of them. I’ll say I’ve decided to come visit, and you can be my brother or something.”

Anti blinked. “What city? We need a city.”

“Umm…” Jack looked up at the ceiling while he thought. “How about Los Angeles? Big city, lots of YouTube people live there.”

“Okay. Done,” Anti said.

“Done?”

“I just bought you a plane ticket.”

“Uh…with what money?” Jack’s voice turned stern. “I think we’ve had this talk before and I don’t want to have it again.”

“Relax. I took the money from their accounts, transferred it to a different one, then bought the ticket using that account so they won’t be able to track it.” Anti rolled his eye. “Honestly, I’m not an amateur. It leaves tomorrow.”

“What leaves tomorrow?” Stacy reentered the living room, the two kids clinging to her legs. They looked mostly healthy. Albeit the daughter had chocolate smeared over her face, but they weren’t too worse for wear.

Jack sighed. “Stacy…I can’t…Anti and Sam and I can’t…they’re going to come after us. We need to get somewhere safe, somewhere out of this city. We bought a plane ticket for a flight that leaves tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving?” Stacy repeated. She looked down at the tiny giggling people running around her. “Does that mean…that we have to—”

“You guys should be fine,” Anti hurried to say. “At least for a little bit. Brody was the only one really interested in you, and I…convinced him to drop it for some time.”

Stacy raised her eyebrow at the word ‘convinced,’ but dropped the subject. “I…I don’t think a move would be good for the kids right now,” she said slowly. “If you don’t mind, could you…could you possibly let me know…?”

“When the situation gets dangerous again?” Anti finished. “Sure.” He then noticed Jack giving him a surprised look. “What?”

“Well, that wasn’t like you,” Jack said.

“People change, Jack. Even I change.”

“Just a tiny bit,” Jack laughed.

“Well, thank you,” Stacy said. “Um…you said the flight leaves tomorrow? Would you…like to stay here for the night? We have some extra blankets and pillows, and we could make the sofa into a bed with those.”

“That would be…nice,” Jack said slowly. Then he smiled. “Yeah, that would be really nice. Thanks, Stacy.”

“It’s no trouble,” she assured him. “Now if you excuse me, I need to put these two to bed.”

“Aw, but Moooom!” her son whined. “It’s not bedtime yet!”

“But you two look absolutely exhausted,” Stacy said in a gentler yet firm voice. “And you told me you’ve been staying up late, so I think it makes up for it. Besides, you have school tomorrow. So come on! To the bathroom! Neither of you have brushed you teeth, so you have to do that tonight.”

Only a few hours later, and the house had fallen silent. The kids were asleep in their shared room, Stacy was asleep in hers, Jack was sleeping on the sofa, and even Sam was resting, curled up next to Jack’s head on his pillow. The only one not resting was the only one who didn’t need it.

Anti was sitting on the arm of the couch, right by Jack’s feet. He wasn’t moving at all, a rarity for him, but he wanted to be fully present and solid for at least the first night back. Even if he was starting to feel the strain of holding a physical form.

He was looking at nothing. Or rather, he was looking in the direction of where something was. Imagining he could see across the city to that house. The cut on his neck was vibrating, ready to be glitched back into place. But he couldn’t heal it yet. He’d gotten Jack back, but they were still out there. Sowing the chaos and fear through the city. One of them was taken out, but he’d always thought of Chase as the least harmful one. The four left were a bit more…dangerous.

They had to pay. Some way or another, they all had to pay for what they’ve done. Not just to Jack, but to countless others as well.

And so Anti watched. And planned. And waited for the perfect moment.

Part Twenty-Six of the PW Timeline
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a complete series I wrote from July 2019 to July of 2022. Chase, Marvin, and the others are finally ready to rescue JJ and Schneep from Anti once and for all. They set up a plan, figure out where they’re being held for sure, and spring into action. But of course, Anti’s not just going to sit by.]
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The fateful day dawned cold, with a lid of gray clouds stretched over the sky. As soon as visiting hours at the hospital opened up, Chase drove around, picking up the others, and they all went over to talk to Jackie and Jack in person. Jackie was still uneasy about the idea of direct confrontation, but he agreed that their plan was probably their best shot. He and Jack gave their own suggestions, and the group quickly disbanded. They didn’t want to risk a doctor walking in and hearing what they were talking about.

From there, the group headed back to the apartment building. Chase gripped the steering wheel tight as he drove down the streets, eyes constantly glancing around, lingering on the spaces where someone might hide. For some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Anti was watching them, even though there was no reason he would.

When they were about half a block away from the apartment building, Chase momentarily pulled to the side of the road, letting Laurens and Marvin climb out. “Okay, good luck,” he whispered. “Remember, he has to be out before—”

“We got it, Chase, don’t worry.” Marvin flashed a smile. He certainly seemed confident, which was more than could be said for Laurens, who looked more like she was jumping into the tiger exhibit at the zoo.

“Alright.” Chase let out a long breath. He turned around to face Mina, sitting in the passenger seat next to him. “You can still go with them, you know. O-or go back.”

Mina shook her head. “I know my part in this is not so big, but I need to be here.”

Chase nodded silently, understanding.

“We’ll meet you later,” Marvin said. “Good luck on your part.” Then he closed the car door, and he and Laurens headed off.

Chase pulled back onto the streets, slowly approaching the apartment building. Now here came one of the uncertain points in their plan. They needed to find the window for Room 309. Apparently it had brown shutters, but that wasn’t too descriptive. There was a chance there could be more than one window that fit that description.

As Chase drove past the building, Mina scanned the windows for brown shutters. She shook her head. “None of the ones in front have shutters, only curtains,” she said. Chase nodded, and turned at the next street corner, circling around the block so they could look at the back of the building.

The street behind the building was small, barely one lane. If they wanted to park here, they would completely block the road. Luckily, it didn’t seem like people came down here that often. The only sign that anyone had ever been here were piles of trash bags next to the occasional dumpster.

“Wait.” Mina tapped Chase’s arm. “I see one. Brown shutters on the third floor, yes?”

“Yeah,” Chase said.

“Right. Look up there.” Mina pointed, and Chase followed her gesture. There were two windows with brown shutters next to each other, right in the middle of what should be the third floor. “That pair must be part of one flat.”

Chase nodded, and parked the car. He took a deep breath. His stomach was doing backflips inside him, filled with nerves. Yet somehow, he still wasn’t as scared as he thought he would be. “Great. Let’s get started, then. Can you hand me the bearings?”

Mina nodded, and opened up the car’s glove compartment. Nestled among loose napkins and empty plastic bottles was a brown paper bag. She grabbed it and handed it to Chase. It made metallic clacking sounds as he took it. “You be careful. Try not to hit any other windows.”

“Ha. Well, luckily, my aim is slightly better than average,” Chase said with a faint grin. “Keep an eye out.” Then he opened the car door and stepped outside. Soon after he’d left, Mina awkwardly climbed over into the newly vacated driver’s seat. She then ducked so she was out of sight of the windows and grabbed a small bedsheet: gray, like the rest of the car’s interior. She carefully draped it over her, providing a rudimentary disguise that would stand up at a distance, if not up close. And she waited.

Chase stood on the cracked asphalt outside, looking upwards. He picked out the windows that Mina had pointed out. Indeed, they were the only ones on the back with brown shutters. But did that mean they were the right ones? They couldn’t drive around the sides of the apartment building since it was so close to its neighbors, what if there were ones there? He shook his head. No, this had to be right. If it wasn’t, they could check the sides later.

He reached into the bag and pulled out a small, metallic ball—one of many inside. Supposedly, these were ball bearings Mina had, but he wasn’t sure if that was the correct term for the one-inch diameter steel ball. Well, it didn’t matter. What mattered was they could be thrown.

Chase adjusted his grip on the ball. He looked up at the windows again. Raising his hand, he took a deep breath, aimed…and let it go.
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CRACK!

“What the fuck?!”

Jameson jumped, surprised both by the sudden sound and Anti’s reaction to it. Anti had dragged him out into the living room again, apparently wanting to ‘have a talk.’ But he hadn’t had the opportunity to say much before that sound interrupted him.

Anti glanced around, then looked back at Jameson. “Do you know what that was?”

Jameson shook his head. It sounded…sounded somewhat metallic, but not quite.

“Hmm.” Anti narrowed his eyes, giving Jameson a hard look. But Jameson’s confusion was just as real as his own. “Well. I guess it doesn’t matter. I wanted to—”

THUNK!

That one was a bit different. More solid, like stone. Anti stopped talking and immediately turned towards the sound. “It’s coming from here,” he muttered, vaguely indicating the back of the room. “Be quiet for a minute.”

Jameson folded his arms. What, exactly, was Anti expecting him to do that wouldn’t be quiet? Scream? Why? He knew Anti wouldn’t react well to that, so there was no real reason to.

CRACK!

Anti walked towards the back of the room for a few steps, then stopped. “What is it?” he said under his breath, more to himself than anything. “There was that guy at the door yesterday…and now this. Is it him?”

That was a good point. After weeks passing without much changing, there had been an interruption in the routine yesterday, and now one today as well. Maybe they were connected? If they were…was this the opportunity he’d been waiting for? Jameson felt a lightness rise up in his chest, but he put a lid on it. There was no guarantee. Still, he walked to the back of the room as well, stopping by Anti’s side. They waited.

Then…

CRASH! The sound of glass breaking filled the room. The closed wooden shutters jolted, the way something does when it was just hit by something small moving at great speeds. Jameson immediately ran to the window and threw them open.

Broken glass fell to the floor with a clatter, accompanied by a small metal ball. There was a hole in the window now. Just about an inch big. Jameson glanced outside, first looking at the sky and then directing his attention down to the street below. A car was parked there. And standing outside the car was a man wearing a jacket and snapback cap. Jameson’s eyes widened.

“What are you doing?!” Anti grabbed the back of Jameson’s shirt and pulled him away from the window, shoving him to the side. “What if someone sees you?!” he hissed. “I swear, if you—” Then he glanced down at the street. And stopped. His face twisted into some harsh expression as he also recognized the man standing outside. “That little—” He slammed the shutters closed, then turned on Jameson. “Looks like I have to take care of something.”

Before Jameson could react, Anti grabbed his arm and dragged him across the room. He stopped outside the bedroom door, unlocked it, then pushed Jameson inside with enough force to knock him to the ground. “Stay,” Anti ordered shortly, then slammed the bedroom door closed again, locking it behind him. Jameson heard his footsteps retreat, then the apartment’s front door open and close.

“Um…Jamie?” Schneep was sitting on the side of the bed. He’d been asleep when Anti had pulled Jameson into the living room for a talk, but apparently the noise had woken him up. “What was all that?”

Jameson stood up, staggered for a moment, then regained his balance and immediately started signing. 'Chase is outside. I think he knows we’re here. Anti went outside, he’s going to confront him.'

“Wha—Chase?! Chase Brody?” Schneep gaped. “Am I understanding that correctly?”

Jameson nodded, then turned back around to look at the closed bedroom door. He tried to turn the knob. But, as expected, nothing happened.

“How did he get here?! H-how does he know where we are?” Schneep gasped sharply. “Jameson? Is—is Anti going to kill him?”

That thought froze Jameson to his core. He shook his head vehemently. 'No, he wouldn’t,' he signed, even though he didn’t know that for sure. 'Let’s not wonder how Chase got here for the moment. He’s here, let’s accept that and move on. If we can get out of this place, we can meet up with him, and finally escape.'

“Get—get out?” Schneep asked hesitantly. “I—no. No, what if Anti finds us? What if he realizes what we were trying?” His breath rose and fell quickly, accompanied by a frantic look in his eyes. “What if—what would he do to you? I-I cannot—I cannot let—again—not—” He pressed his hand to his chest.

Jameson had been looking over the bedroom door, trying to figure out a way to open it, but when he noticed Schneep’s panic he stopped and walked over to the bed, stopping in front of Schneep. He knelt so they could be eye level. 'Henrik, I understand. It’s a risk. But we will never get a better chance to get out of here. I’m going to take it. And I’d like for you to come with me.'

“I-I cannot walk,” Schneep said, gesturing down at his ankles still bound together. “I-I cannot—cannot leave.”

'I will carry you if I have to,' Jameson said, determined. 'We can escape, Henrik. We can leave Anti and all the pain he causes. We can see the others again. Please… please come with me.'

Schneep was silent for a few seconds, breathing heavily. Then he nodded. “Yes. Yes, you are right. We cannot live like this.”

Jameson smiled. 'Thank you, Henrik.' He gave the other man a quick, tight hug before turning to look back at the bedroom door. 'Now. How do we get this open?'
.............................................................................................

“Ow!”

“Shhh!”

Something had hit the back of Marvin’s head. He couldn’t see what it was in the darkness, but he assumed it was a mop. That’s what it felt like, and it would make sense given he and Laurens were hiding in a janitor’s closet. He made a face at Laurens’ hushing, but didn’t blame her. It would be very inconvenient for someone to find them now.

Laurens had her face pressed to the crack of the door, scanning the hallway. The closet was right next to the building’s only stairwell and across from the elevator; anyone on the upper floors who wanted to get down to the first would show up here eventually. Which made it an ideal place to hide.

Speaking of people passing by…

The door to the stairwell opened. Laurens tensed.

And an unmistakable figure in a green jacket passed by the closet. Anti. His scarred right half was visible as he walked by, the green-irised glass eye blind to the way the door was slightly ajar. He didn’t look happy. Laurens reached back and squeezed Marvin’s arm. He stiffened.

They waited for a few more moments, making sure that Anti was well past them before Laurens eased the door open and the two of them stepped out. Laurens turned back to Marvin and pointed at the stairwell. He nodded, and the two of them headed over, climbing upwards as quickly and quietly as possible.
.............................................................................................

Chase hadn’t expected the ball bearing to go through the window. Apparently, though his aim was only slightly better than average, the force of his throw was stronger than he thought. But breaking the window turned out to be a stroke of luck. He watched the shutters open, and caught a glimpse of—Jameson. Unmistakably him, though with a few minor differences. He was wearing different clothes than his usual style, and Chase could’ve sworn his hair and mustache were shorter, for some reason? But it was definitely him. They had the right window.

And then Jameson disappeared from view, and another man appeared. Chase had never seen him before, but he knew this man was Anti from the scars on his face. He saw Anti scowl, then slam the shutters closed.

Chase swallowed nervously. Though he was prepared to play his part, the thought of actually coming face to face with a killer was terrifying—for obvious reasons. He reached inside his jacket and felt the grip hidden against his side. He glanced back at the car, with Mina still semi-hidden in the driver’s seat. It would be fine. Then, slowly, he set the bag of ball bearings down on the street next to him and stood up straight and tense, ready for action. It would be fine. He could do this.
.............................................................................................

“We are getting nowhere this way,” Schneep said. “We need to try something else.”

Jameson gritted his teeth. He threw his weight against the bedroom door one more time, but just like his previous attempts, it didn’t budge. He’d hoped it was flimsier than it looked, a lot of internal doors were like that. But nope. That wasn’t the case this time. He stepped back, giving it one more look over. 'I should’ve tried to take the key from him,' he lamented. 'I knew he had it on him.'

“Let’s not think on that. We should—we should go fast. He could come back a-at any time.” Schneep looked pale at the thought of it. “Can we unscrew the hinges, maybe?”

'With what?' Jameson asked. 'We don’t have any tools.'

“We do not need a tool, we simply need something that can get a grip on them,” Schneep figured.

In unison, the two of them scanned the room. There wasn’t much that looked useful. Clothes in the wardrobe, pillows and blankets on the bed. The only thing of note was a small table lamp on the dresser, which Anti had given them after about a week of ‘good behavior.’ Otherwise, the bedroom got pretty dark with its dim overhead light.

“What type of screws are they?” Schneep asked.

Jameson looked at the hinges. 'The cross-shaped kind. There’s not much room for something to get purchase,' he said. Then he paused. And instead of looking at the hinges, he looked at the doorknob. 'But these are flathead,' he noticed. 'With a wide…indent, or whatever. If we can find something flat but sturdy, we might be able to take the handle off.'

Schneep pointed at the lamp. “That.” When Jameson just gave him a confused look, he pointed again, more emphatically. “Not the lamp itself. It has a plug, yes? What do the prongs look like?”

Uncertain, but desperate to give anything a try, Jameson walked over to the table lamp and pulled the plug out of the socket. Though it had the typical three-prong design of the area, it looked a bit cheap, with the prongs being thinner and flimsier than usual. In fact…maybe they would fit?

Jameson nodded to himself. He stood up, grabbed the whole lamp, and took it back over to the doorway. The plug prongs almost fit into the indent of the flathead screws. Almost. They were just a bit too big. But if he held the plug at an angle, the corners could catch. And if he carefully applied enough force to get it to move without slipping—

“Can I help?” Schneep asked.

It took a few seconds for Jameson to respond, as he kept trying to twist the screw. He could feel it giving, but the prongs jumped out after a few seconds every time. Sighing, he looked back at Schneep and nodded.

“Help me get over there, then,” Schneep said.

Jameson dropped the plug, went back to the bedside, and half-carried, half dragged Schneep over to the door. Once there, Schneep managed to find his footing. The cuffs on his legs didn’t stop him from standing, only walking. He looked at what Jameson was trying to do with the prongs and the screws, and he nodded. “Okay. You twist it, I will apply pressure so it does not slip.”

'Got it,' Jameson said, angling the prong back into the screw.

It took longer than either of them wanted. Even with one of them steadying it, the prongs still wanted to slip out of the indent. But after a few solid moments of work, they managed to unscrew both of the bolts holding the doorknob in place. It fell to the ground, metallic parts clattering, and a soft thunk noise indicated that the knob on the other side of the door fell to the ground as well. Jameson looked at Schneep and grinned triumphantly. Schneep returned the look. 'Here we go,' Jameson signed, and pushed open the door.

It opened easily, and they were out of the bedroom. Jameson immediately bent over and picked Schneep up, carrying him with both arms, running towards the front door. It was also going to be locked, but if they could get out of there, they could figure out what to do now—

Knock knock knock.

Jameson froze. Schneep instinctively grabbed him as someone knocked on the door. They looked at each other, both thinking Anti had returned. But then…why would he knock?

Knock knock knock. “Hello?” a voice called, familiar to both of them.

Schneep inhaled sharply. “M-M-Marvin?” he whispered. Then called, more confidently, “Marvin?!”

“Schneep!” Marvin cried. “Oh my god, you’re really in there!”

Jameson melted with relief, almost dropping Schneep. He tightened his grip on him, and stumbled towards the front door.

“It’s him!” Another voice on the other side gasped. A woman’s.

“What the—Dr. Laurens, is that you?” Schneep asked.

“Yes, it’s me,” she said. “And Marvin. We, uh, we came here with Chase, we’re here to get you out.”

Schneep glanced at Jameson, uncertainty in his eyes. Jameson nodded. He heard them too.

“Is JJ there?” Marvin asked.

“He is right here,” Schneep said. Jameson made a small noise to testify to this fact, nothing more than a simple ‘ah!’ “He—he saw Chase outside, a-and we broke out of our room. Is it…is it true? Are you here to…to help us?” His voice cracked.

“Of course we are, Schneep,” Laurens reassured him. “It’s all going to be fine.”

“I’m going to pick the lock,” Marvin announced.

“What?!” Schneep gasped. “Since when can you do that?” Jameson also raised an eyebrow at this idea.

“I’ve been practicing ever since I got into Silver Hills to see you,” Marvin explained. “I mean, that place used keycards, but the idea of breaking in inspired me. I’m not too good, but this looks like an easy enough lock.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Schneep asked.

“Just stay tight,” Marvin said. A few metallic noises started to come from the front door’s handle. “And try not to distract me.”

“Right.” Schneep nodded. He looked at Jameson and smiled, a mixture of relief and excitement. With nothing else to do, he hugged him tight. Jameson, in turn, held him closer, while also letting him down to stand on his own two feet. He had to save his strength for carrying him out of here. They were so close. Almost out. Just a couple more minutes.
.............................................................................................

Not much time passed before Chase heard the sound of approaching footsteps. He stiffened, and spun around towards the noise. And there…was Anti. Anti himself had just rounded the corner of the building and had his eyes fixed on Chase as he walked closer. Immediately, Chase felt all his muscles lock up. Though Anti wasn’t running at him, he was overcome by an overwhelming feeling of helplessness, like he was losing ground in a race against him.

Anti glanced around the street, taking note of how small and empty it was. He put his hands in the pockets of his green jacket, almost casually, and slowly got closer. Chase didn’t look away from him. He kept his hand inside his jacket, on the handle inside.

After what seemed like ages, Anti was standing only a few feet in front of him. He stopped walking. His mismatched eyes quickly flicked up, down, and up again. Then around the area once more. And finally, he asked, “What are you trying to do?”

“I-I-I…” Chase stammered, his throat suddenly closing up.

“I told you not to call the police.” Anti’s voice was steady.

“I didn’t!” Chase protested. “I—there are no police here, are they?”

“You’re right. There aren’t. I would have noticed them if there were. You know, most police are surprisingly bad at hiding. They always choose the same type of car.” Anti glanced at Chase’s car, but luckily, not long enough to notice Mina ducked beneath the windows. “And that’s not it. Not to mention there’s nowhere to hide here. Unless they’re in the dumpsters.” He chuckled.

Chase swallowed nervously. Not only was his throat closing up, it was also suddenly dry.

“So what are you trying to do? If you didn’t come here without any backup, what’s your plan?”

“I…I-I’m going to get my friends back,” Chase said weakly.

A smile twisted Anti’s face. “Really? All by yourself?” he asked condescendingly. His hand in his pocket shifted. “Are you brave, desperate, or just a fool?”

“I’m not…not any of those,” Chase said. “Im…armed.” His grip tightened on the handle inside his jacket as he pulled it out, revealing the hidden handgun. He pointed it directly at Anti. “So…so you’re going to cooperate. Or I’ll shoot you.”

For a split second, Anti looked surprised. But then it faded, and he nodded, like something had finally clicked into place in his mind. “You’ll shoot me,” he repeated.

“Yeah!” Chase said, trying not to glance around the street. If anyone walked up on them at this moment, the whole plan would be ruined. He didn’t have to stall for that long, but even a few minutes was a substantial amount of time to be face-to-face with a murderer and a kidnapper.

Anti tilted his head, completely unconcerned. “Will you, though?”

Chase didn’t say anything. He was afraid his voice would tremble in the same way his hands were shaking.

“How’d you get that, anyway?” Anti asked. “It couldn’t have been easy to order it from America, lie about your current address, then pick it up when going there for a video convention. Or, maybe it was. But how’d you get it into the country? Airports there are a mess for a reason.”

“I—i-it’s not important,” Chase stuttered. How did Anti manage to guess his method of getting the gun in the first place? All that he said about ordering it and picking it up during a video con…that was all true. How did he know that? Lucky guess?

Anti grinned. “You’re wondering how I figured it out, huh? It wasn’t too hard. No records online are completely hidden—especially when you’re a big shot content creator on the biggest online video platform in the world. Your whole life is a book, for those who want to find it. And I did want to find it, Chase. Call it curiosity. You’re friends with my brother, after all.”

“Shut up about JJ!” Chase shouted, steadying his aim. “You don’t get to talk about him! He hates you!”

Anti’s expression darkened. “No. He doesn’t. He can’t.”

Chase blinked. ‘He can’t’? What was that supposed to mean?

“You want to know something else I found, Chase?” Anti asked, taking a few steps forward. Chase jumped, but kept his aim steady and stood his ground. “Something strange I noticed. After you got back from that convention, you made a video thanking all your fans for their support. Then you went quiet for exactly one day. And once you came back online, you deleted that video. Strange, huh? Why would you do that? It was a really touching message.”

Chase’s eyes widened. How did he know about that?! He’d gone to great lengths to make sure all copies of the video had been erased, using every possible measure available from reporting any ones he saw to personally asking—nicely and not-so-nicely—anyone who reuploaded it to delete it.

“Nothing is deleted online forever, Chase,” Anti said, smiling. “But it’s weird, isn’t it? That you made a thank-you video directly after purchasing a gun.” He took a few more steps forward. “A really strange video. A few people thought you were quitting your video career.”

“D-don’t,” Chase said, his voice strangled.

“Don’t what? Don’t get closer? Or don’t say anything?” Smirking, Anti got closer. “You’re not going to shoot me for it. You were never planning on shooting anyone. Well…anyone ELSE.” And he got closer. He walked right past Chase’s outstretched arms, holding the gun in shivering hands. “They were right, weren’t they? You were going to stop making videos. Though they didn’t guess the real reason.”

Chase’s vision grew blurry. It took him a few seconds to realize there were tears in his eyes. He screamed at his body to do something about this. He couldn’t let Anti say this. Speaking it out loud…It made it real.

“Poor Chase Brody. Running two YouTube channels while his best friend was in a coma.” Anti sighed exaggeratedly. “One of his friends disappeared in August, another in December, and just recently, one of the last two left without any warning. Not to mention the first year anniversary of your divorce was coming up. It was a terrible March, wasn’t it? Nobody would have blamed you. Which is why you thought about it. What made you change your mind? I doubt it was because you found your way. There would have been psychiatric records.” Anti leaned close. His face was inches from Chase’s own. “No. You were scared. You couldn’t quite go through with it. You never had the nerve, and you never will.” Anti’s voice was soft and quiet as he smiled. “Which is why I know you won’t shoot me now.”

Chase blinked. He couldn’t look away from Anti’s mismatched eyes.

A moment passed in silence. The wind howled.

“But I’m not the same,” Anti said. And his hand shot out and grabbed the gun in Chase’s hands.

“No!” Chase gasped. The gun almost slipped from his fingers, but he tightened his grip at the last moment, pulling it back towards him.

Anti scowled. “Coward,” he muttered, grabbing one of Chase’s wrists with his other hands. He twisted, trying to wrench it away.

“Shut up!” Chase pulled the gun back towards him. Anti pulled it back the other way. They struggled in a warped game of tug-of-war for a few seconds as they each tried to take the gun from the other. Then Chase stomped on one of Anti’s feet. He gasped, and his grip loosened. Chase jumped backwards.

But he wasn’t fast enough. Anti recovered quickly and leapt forward, catching the barrel of the gun in one hand and pushing it to point towards the sky. His other hand shot out and grabbed Chase’s throat, starting to squeeze. Chase immediately choked, his windpipe beginning to close in. He looked at Anti’s face and saw it devoid of emotion. In that moment, he couldn’t tell which eye was glass.

His own eyes darted around. There was nobody in the street. One hand uncoiled from the gun, instinctively reaching for his throat. Anti pulled the gun further out of his grip, and Chase barely managed to hold onto it by the tips of his fingers. But as Anti’s hold on his throat grew tighter, his energy started to fade. Little by little, the gun was slipping out of his grasp. Black shapes swam across his vision. Finally, he lost his grip, and the gun was in Anti’s hand—

Then the car’s driver side door opened. There was a flash of brown paper, and the loud sound of metal hitting something hard. Anti gasped, and let go of Chase’s throat.

Immediately, Chase staggered backward, almost falling. But a hand caught his arm and pulled him forward, shoving him through the open car door, across the driver’s seat and into the passenger’s. Mina dove in after him, slamming the car door shut. She unparked the car and hit the gas, sending them roaring down the street and into the distance.

It took Chase a moment to realize what happened. “Did you…hit him?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Mina nodded curtly. “You left the bag of bearings on the ground, i-it was the only thing even a little heavy. Not much, but with enough force—are you okay?” She looked at him with concern clear in her face.

“Eyes on the road,” he rasped. “I’m…I’m fine. Just…sore.” He rubbed his neck. Honestly, the physical pain was a mere shadow compared to how shaken he felt. He…he’d never told anyone about any of the stuff with the gun…why he really bought it. Anti figuring it out, and taunting him with that knowledge…it left him feeling exposed. Like his mind had been read by a computer and his thoughts displayed on a monitor for all to see.

Mina nodded, and reluctantly looked away. “We are going to have to circle around the block, to make him think we left. I do not want to come back and see him waiting to shoot us.”

“Good idea,” Chase said, nodding. “How…how much of that did you hear?”

“How much of what?” Mina asked.

“We were…talking,” Chase said carefully.

“Oh. Then none. I just barely saw the edge of you two standing across from each other. Then he got closer, and lunged, and when he grabbed your neck I-I knew I had to do something—” Mina stopped, taking a deep breath. “You are sure you are okay?”

“Fine,” Chase repeated.

Mina nodded again. “I…We should go fast around the block. I hope the others are having better luck.”
.............................................................................................

This was taking too long. Marvin was pretty sure his practice lockpicking had gone much better. But now that the stakes were high, his skills were slipping. Laurens hovered anxiously nearby, trying not to look directly at him so he didn’t get distracted. Unfortunately, her very presence was a distraction that he couldn’t currently get rid of. Occasionally, he could hear shuffling movement from the other side of the door. Schneep had gone silent, and Jameson hadn’t said anything to begin with. They must have known how important this was.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Clack.

Marvin inhaled sharply. His face was so close to the door that his nose was practically touching the wood, so he leaned back for this last step. Slowly—SLOWLY—he turned the pins he’d brought, acting as a key for the lock. And there came the unmistakable thunk of a latch pulling back.

He wasted no time, grabbing the doorknob, pulling it outward, realizing he was in the way and standing up straight and walking to the side to allow a clear path, then finally flinging the door open.

The room beyond was nothing impressive. Kind of run-down actually. There was furniture, but Marvin didn’t spare the surroundings any more than a cursory glance. His attention was immediately caught by the pair standing just beyond the door. “JJ! Henrik!” he shouted, voice catching on a sob in his throat. “You—you’re—” He was too overwhelmed to form any words beyond that.

Jameson waved with one hand. The gesture was a bit awkward, but the tears welling in his eyes and relieved slump of his shoulders more than made up for it. Schneep also started crying immediately. “Marvin…?” he asked. His tone was uncertain but hopeful.

Marvin rushed forward and flung both his arms around the two of them. Silently, he squeezed them tight, shaking his head in disbelief. “I-I was…I was…so worried,” he choked out. ”I…I missed you.”

For a moment, the three of them just stood there, embracing each other and enjoying the feeling of seeing someone you loved after so long.

But then Laurens coughed awkwardly, and Marvin pulled away. “Uh, right,” he said, wiping his eyes.

“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting,” she said, “but, uh, opening the lock took a few minutes, a-and I don’t think Chase can distract Anti for too long.”

“Laurens!” Schneep said, smiling softly at her. “You came all the way here? You…you did not have to.”

“No, I did,” Laurens said firmly. “I-I needed to know you were alright. And Marvin needed a lookout while he concentrated on opening the door, so…”

“You are the best therapist,” Schneep laughed.

“Okay, but seriously, we should go,” Marvin said. At that moment, he glanced down. And frowned. “Um, Schneep? What’s that?” He pointed at the cuffs.

'Anti did that,' Jameson explained. 'For obvious reasons, he didn’t want us getting away.'

“But…you don’t have anything,” Marvin said, confused.

'Technically. But I couldn’t leave Henrik behind, could I?' Jameson shook his head. 'It’s okay, I can carry him.'

Marvin glanced at Schneep. “You’re okay with that?”

“Well we do not have much else choice, do we?” Schneep said, a bit dryly. “Now…” He glanced around the room, on edge once again. “…can we leave? Please?”

“Right.” Marvin nodded. “Let’s go.”

Jameson scooped Schneep up again and followed Marvin and Laurens out into the third floor hallway. He looked around as they hurried towards the stairwell. So this is what the building looked like outside of that little room. Somehow, it fit perfectly. Though, for a moment, he wondered if Anti really WANTED to be in a place like this. Somehow, he doubted it. Anti had always wanted more.

They took the stairs a bit slower than they wanted to, as Jameson carrying Schneep meant he couldn’t quite see the steps beneath his feet. Laurens lent her arm as support, helping to steady him. But a couple minutes later, they left the stairwell behind and started down the next corridor.

As soon as they did, Marvin heard the distant sound of footsteps. He looked down the hall, which ended in a turn to the left, and saw a figure starting to turn the corner. A figure in a green jacket.

Marvin inhaled sharply. Thinking quickly, he glanced around to find the closet door they’d hidden in before. Once he saw it, he grabbed Jameson’s arm and Laurens’ hand and ran towards it, pulling open the door. Without explaining a thing, he shoved them inside before hiding there himself and shutting the door behind them.

The whole thing took about thirty seconds, and luckily, Anti had not been paying too much attention to the hallway. He seemed more concerned with something he was holding in his hands. But at the sound of the door closing, he glanced up, pausing.

“What was—” Laurens started to say.

Marvin shushed her, pointing over his shoulder at the closet door. “It’s him,” he whispered.

Though it was dark in the closet, Marvin could feel the others all tense up in unison. Someone—maybe Schneep—gasped before falling silent.

Anti scanned the hallway. Nobody was in sight. But doors did line the walls—it was an apartment building, after all. After a solid few seconds, he started walking again. Probably one of the neighbors. But that almost made it worse. Quickly, he hid the object he’d grabbed outside under his jacket, tucked in between his arm and torso. It would do no good for someone to catch him with a gun out in the open.

Marvin pressed his face to the gap in the door. It was really hard to see out of when the door wasn’t ajar, but he could make out light. And shadow. And they could all still hear the heavy footsteps slowly coming closer.

And closer.

And closer.

Someone grabbed Marvin’s arm, and he barely bit back a surprised shout. He did jump, though, and someone else gasped.

A shadow passed in front of the light from the gap. The footsteps stalled right outside the door.

But for only a split second. They continued quickly. The door to the stairwell opened and closed. All traces of the footsteps faded away.

As soon as he was sure Anti was gone, Marvin opened the door. Glancing back, he was a bit surprised to see Jameson had been the one to grab him, almost dropping Schneep in the process. But honestly, Marvin didn’t blame him. He was as pale as a lost ghost, shaking with dread at the thought of this long-awaited escape attempt being foiled. Schneep didn’t look much better, clutching tightly to Jameson. And Laurens was in the same boat, long-forgotten shadows haunting her face as she held her arm where it had once broken.

Marvin made eye contact with each of them. “Fucking. RUN.”

Instantly, every single one of them bolted.

Anti would know that something was off as soon as he got upstairs and noticed his door unlocked. He might take a moment to glance around the inside, but it wasn’t a big apartment, and it would be obvious what happened to Jameson and Schneep. Then he would go searching for them.

So they ran. Down the hallway in a dead sprint, only slowing for a moment to turn the corners, then picking up speed again once it straightened out. They burst out of the building’s front doors, out onto the empty street. Wind had picked up, giving the already cold winter air a sharper chill. The gray clouds overhead hung oppressively low.

Laurens glanced left and right, taking in the complete lack of anyone outside. “Where the hell are they?!”

“No time!” Marvin said. “Go go go go!”

They turned left and started running down the street. But as they did, Schneep glanced back, looking for any sign of Anti pursuing them. Instead, he shrieked, “Wait wait wait! Behind us! Car!”

Marvin looked back as well, and saw Chase’s car turning onto the street. “Nevermind, other way!” he shouted, and in almost comical unison, they all skidded to a halt and spun around, heading back the other way.

The car picked up speed the moment it saw them. Quickly, the distance closed, and the car pulled to the side of the street just as the group arrived to meet it. Laurens opened the back door. “Inside!” she said, gesturing. Marvin pushed Jameson a little to help him and Schneep get inside quickly, then hopped in himself. Laurens got in last, and the car peeled away before she had even fully closed the door.

They drove past the front entrance to the apartment building just as Anti slammed through the double doors, an expression of absolute fury on his face. “Duck!” shouted a voice from the passenger seat—Chase. The others saw Anti raise something in his hands and aim it. A gun. Then they all ducked.

But the shot they were anticipating never came. Instead, Anti continued to aim, following the car as it turned the opposite corner. And even after it had disappeared from sight, he kept the gun pointing in that direction, lowering it a solid minute after the car was long gone.
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The car ride was silent for a good while after they fled the apartment building. As they planned, they took unexpected, random twists and turns, just in case. Only once they were on the completely opposite side of the city—which took about ten minutes—did someone speak up.

“Okay… NOW we call the police,” Laurens breathed.

Marvin burst out laughing. He doubled over, hitting his head on the back of the car seat in front of him. His shoulders shook with the uncontrollable mirth created by utter relief.

“Yeah, I-I can do that now, if we want,” Chase said, pulling out his phone. “Though…I mean, what do I say? Just tell them where the location is? Say that we went there knowing how dangerous it was? Definitely shouldn’t mention how there are four of you in the three-person backseat of my car, none of you wearing seatbelts, haha.” He chuckled a bit, turning around to look at the others. But the laughter faded quickly, turning into soft crying as tears fell down his face.

Jameson, previously looking out the window, turned around and leaned forward. 'Chase?' He asked, using his name sign of ‘C-friend.’ 'Are you okay?'

“Am I okay? Am I okay?! Am I—” Chase shook his head, but kept his eyes fixed on Jameson and Schneep. “I-I can’t believe you two are here. That we…we actually did it. A-and you’re safe, a-and you’re not hurt—I m-mean, I mean relatively—a-a-and I just—I j-just…” He shook his head again. “You’re…you’re here.”

After a moment, Jameson smiled. 'Yes. We’re here. All thanks to you guys. Thank you so, so much. I…I can hardly believe it. It’s finally over.' He turned to look at Schneep, smiling. But Schneep wasn’t looking at him. Or at Chase. 'Is everything alright, Henrik?'

“Um.” Schneep pointed at the driver’s seat. “What the fuck?”

Mina glanced back at him, giving him a small smile. “H-hallo, Schneep.”

Schneep stared at her. He blinked. Then he slapped himself.

“Schneep!” Laurens sat up straight. “Don’t—”

“This is a dream. This is a fucking dream, there is no way you are all here, and her?” Schneep muttered, shaking his head. He raised his hand to slap himself again, but Laurens’s hand darted out and grabbed his wrist before he could.

“It’s not a dream,” she said gently. “Mina is here. She helped us make the plan.”

“Hah. I-I-I—” Schneep glanced around the crowded car again. He twitched a bit, flinching as if expecting a blow to come that never did. His other hand started scratching his neck. “It just—seems unbelievable.”

“I know. But…try using something else,” Laurens suggested. “Do you remember what else you can do?”

Schneep went quiet for a moment. Then he nodded slowly. He leaned back against the car seat and crossed his arms: right hand on left upper arm, and left doing the same on right. Pulling his arms in, he muttered something under his breath. “Einhundert, dreiundneunzig…sechsundachtzig…neunundsiebzig…”

Mina shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and turned her eyes back to the road. “We…can talk more later, yes? Back at the house.”

Schneep didn’t stop mumbling, but he did nod.

Meanwhile, Marvin had stopped laughing. There was a hard light in his eyes, and he dug his phone out of his pocket. “I’m going to call nine nine nine on that fucker,” he said.

'Oh, please do,' Jameson said.

Chase grinned, though there were still tears in his eyes. “Y-yeah…we should do that now. And…and I’ll call Detective Nix once we get back home, too, so he knows what really went on.”

Marvin gave him a thumbs-up, then started dialing. “We’re gonna take him down. Once and for all.”

Though Chase, Laurens, and Mina all made sounds of agreement, Jameson hesitated. He rested a reassuring hand on Schneep’s shoulder and looked out the car window again. He knew Anti wouldn’t go down that easily. He’d probably started packing up the moment they got away, in anticipation of a police raid of some sort.

But for now…for now, he was out. Jameson and Schneep had finally left that apartment behind. And for once in over a year, Anti no longer had a hostage or any other form of leverage. He had no power over them.

The battle was won. The war would continue, but this was a decisive victory. It should be enjoyed.

And finally, JJ smiled.

Chapter One of Fantasy Masks
A JSE Fanfic
[This is the first part of an ongoing fic series I started in June 2021. Chase was a normal hunter living in the mountains of Glasúil. But the kingdom is entering turbulent times, and trouble soon finds its way to his home and family. Now on his own, he's stumbled into the group of masked rebels who are trying to save the kingdom, among them being a traveling doctor named Henrik and an enthusiastic warrior called Jackie. With his family missing, Chase decides to join these rebels, hoping to find them.]
[In this first chapter, we get to know Chase and see what caused all this to happen.]
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The forest floor was blanketed in a layer of fallen leaves, red and orange and yellow matching the colors of those still on the tree branches. Bushes and shrubs made the terrain difficult for most people. But a single rabbit hopped across the ground, unhindered by the underbrush and making no sound on the crunchy fallen leaves. It stopped by a small bush, sniffed its leaves, and started to nibble on them.

THWIP! An arrow suddenly appeared next to the rabbit. It had barely landed when the rabbit was already running, darting off quickly. “Wait, no! No!” Someone shouted. A man appeared, shooting to his feet from where he’d been hiding behind a nearby bush. He nocked another arrow and let it loose, but it missed by a mile, landing in the trunk of a nearby tree. The rabbit was already gone.

“Damn it,” Chase cursed, looking down at his arm. That last shot had been sloppy; if he wasn’t wearing his arm guard, the bow string could’ve really hurt him. He tightened the guard straps and went to collect the arrows from where they’d landed. The one that hit the tree had its point chipped a bit. “Damn it,” he said again, whispering this time. If he kept chipping arrows, he’d have to buy more, and they couldn’t afford that right now.

Maybe he’d missed because it was starting to get dark. Chase looked through the branches of the trees towards the sky. He could see the rosy hint of a sunset in the distance. Well, if that wasn’t a sign that it was time to head back, he didn’t know what was. He’d already checked the snares he’d set up yesterday and set up new ones; there was nothing more to do. Disappointed, he turned back and headed east, towards town. Hopefully tomorrow he’d find more in the forest than three squirrels and a rabbit that he failed to shoot.

The trees soon thinned. Chase walked down a familiar slope of land and quickly saw the familiar buildings at the edge of town. Well, it wasn’t really a town. It was too small for that. It was actually a village, but people called it Hilltown, and so naturally it was shortened to just town. People said things like “Hey I’m heading back to town,” or “The millers live on the edge of town.” That might be confusing in a more urban setting, where there were more cities and towns close together, but they lived in the mountains. The village was the only “town” for miles.

Chase slipped in between two buildings and officially entered the village. These buildings were made of wood, and a bit rickety due to being built on sloping ground. When the village was founded, it was first built on a relatively flat area. But as it slowly grew, it had to creep upwards onto the incline that led up to the forest. The way the buildings continued onto the slope was the reason people started calling it Hilltown, though Chase had never been fond of the name.

“Hey! Is that you, Chase?”

“Huh?” Chase stopped, and looked around. He quickly spotted the source of the call: an older man, with a black beard streaked with gray, standing in the doorway of a house. “Hi, Kieran. How’re you doing?”

“Doing fine, boy,” Kieran said good-naturedly. “Come back from hunting so soon?”

“Well it is sunset. Do you expect me to shoot in the dark?” Chase commented, raising an eyebrow.

Kieran chuckled. “So…did you shoot any beaver today?”

“No, Kieran, there are no beavers in the mountains,” Chase sighed. The older man had been living here for three years, and he couldn’t seem to grasp that.

“Ah, if you say so,” Kieran waved away. “If you ever DO catch one—”

“—I can bring the pelt to you, I know,” Chase finished. And again, he’d been offering that same proposal for three years.

“That’s the spirit! I’ll be seeing you around.”

“Be seeing you.”

Chase headed onward. As the ground started to level out, the buildings became sturdier, with more made of stone bricks, and grew closer together. The streets weren’t paved, but they were cleared, dusty paths well-trod. A few people were out, though not as many as there would have been earlier in the day. Mostly small kids running around and a few people taking turns getting water at the well in the center of the town. Chase waved at them, and they nodded back. One of them, Terrance the tailor, called out “How’re you doing?” and Chase answered, “Doing fine!”

Shortly after passing by the well, he came across the tallest building in town, and was once again stopped by someone calling his name. “Mister Chase!”

He stopped and turned to face the building: the temple. The couple that ran it were standing outside the doorway. One of them, Mother Aoife, was waving at him. “Hello, Mother. Is everything alright?”

“Oh, well, can I ask you a question?” Mother Aoife said. She gestured at the entrance. “Do you think we’d have room for another holy symbol up there?”

“Uh…” Chase took a step back. The doorway to the temple had two symbols on either side of it, showing that members of either faith could practice inside. To the left was a blue candle, almost as long as a person’s arm, burning and dripping wax. To the right were two interlocking circles the size of someone’s head: one gold-ish with small triangles around the edge, one silver-ish with a line down the center. “I mean…I guess you could put one above the door.”

“No, we can’t do that!” Mother Aoife said. “That would imply that one faith is higher than the others.”

“Right. Then, I’m guessing it would be the same if you put a symbol in the space beneath one of the other two?”

“Exactly.”

“I told you it wouldn’t work.” Pastor Cait frowned. She was the other leader at the temple, and was Mother Aoife’s wife. They’d actually held two ceremonies, one for each of their respective faiths. That day had been one of the most active days Hilltown had seen in the past ten years. “Besides, nobody in town follows the Forger.”

“But it is becoming popular with those down in the flatlands of Glasúil,” Mother Aoife insisted. “What if someone comes to visit and spread the faith?”

“Well, neither of us even know anything about the Forge, anyway,” Pastor Cait pointed out.

“We could always find someone.”

“That runs into the problem of nobody in town following the Forger.”

“Um…is that all you wanted me for?” Chase asked awkwardly.

“Oh no, I just thought I’d ask you first,” Mother Aoife said. “Stacia stopped by. She said to tell you that she was leaving early and would be home when you were done hunting.”

“Really? That’s strange.” Stacia usually worked all day, and with the fall harvest coming up, she’d probably be out on the farms from sunrise to sunset. “Why?”

“She said something about Quentin,” Mother Aoife said, frowning as she tried to remember. “I think he might’ve been getting sick? There was something wrong.”

Chase felt his heart drop, leaving his chest cold. “Why didn’t you START with that?!”

“Well, I—” Mother Aoife’s explanation was wasted. Chase was already running.

It wasn’t too far from here. He sprinted down the street, not bothering to look at any of the people he passed by, heading for the other edge of town. The buildings started to spread out again, small patches of vegetable gardens dotting the rows of low stone houses. He kept running until he reached his own, recognizing the garden of radishes outside and the rough chalk drawings on the stones outside, drawn by children. Without waiting, he threw open the wooden door and rushed inside.

“Dad?” Amabel, his daughter, was sitting on the edge of the rough wooden table, carefully trying to tie the end of a string into a loop.

“Hi, Amy. Where’s your mother and brother?” Chase asked.

“Bedroom,” Amabel said, pointing at the doorway, blocked off by a hanging length of cloth.

“Thanks.” Chase ruffled her red hair as he walked past, not wasting any time and ducking underneath the cloth. “What happened? Is it bad?!”

Stacia looked up, clearly surprised. “Chase? What do you mean what happened?”

“Mother Aoife, down at the temple, she said that you said something happened with Quentin a-and that you were leaving early because of it,” Chase hurried through the explanation. “Is everything okay?!”

“Did she…well I guess it would sound bad if that’s all she said,” Stacia muttered. “Don’t worry, it’s fine.”

“Hi Dad!” Quentin was lying in the big double-bed that Chase and Stacia usually shared, propped up against the wooden frame. Their thick winter quilt was wrapped around him, his little face and dark curls being the only thing to poke out of the patchwork cloth.

“He fell in the water trough for Rainer’s sheep when I looked away,” Stacia explained, sighing. “Got pretty wet.”

“There was a goat staring at me!” Quentin said. He didn’t seem any worse for wear.

“It’ll probably be fine, but considering his…constitution, I-I thought it’d be best if I took the rest of the day off to keep an eye on him.” Stacia pulled the blanket up over Quentin’s head, much to his delight.

All the tension immediately drained from Chase’s body. He stumbled against the wall, losing his balance in the flood of relief. “Oh thank the elders,” he breathed.

Stacia stood up. She walked over to the bedroom window—the only one in their cottage to have glass—and made sure it was firmly closed. Then she turned to face Chase. “Did you…did you get back to town early and decide to check on us?”

“No, I just got back, I ran all the way here,” Chase said, catching his breath for the first time.

“Oh.” Stacia glanced at the arrows in his quiver, then at the three squirrels he had slung over his back. “Sorry, I guess I just thought, since you didn’t seem to find that much—”

“It’s fall, Stacy, animals are starting to hibernate,” Chase said, rubbing his eyes.

“Right. I always forget that.” Stacia nodded.

“How are things going at the farm?”

“Alright. Busy. You know, Jane told me that down in the flatlands, where it’s warmer, they grow potatoes through the winter. Which makes sense, but it’s strange, isn’t it?”

“Yea, pretty strange.” Chase stood up straight. “Well, I’m going to go take care of these squirrels.”

“Oh!” Stacia’s eyes widened. “Wait, before you do, do you remember that you’re going to start teaching Amabel shooting on Hunt’s Day?”

“Yes, don’t worry,” Chase assured her. “I already have a great spot marked out.”

Stacia let out a breath. “Good. With everything today, I almost forgot until now.”

“Well, clearly Amabel didn’t forget. I saw her trying to make a bow string in the main room.” Chase smiled. “It looked pretty good, for her first time doing it on her own.”

“Wonderful.” Stacia turned back to Quentin, who was picking at the seams of the quilt. “Now go take care of those squirrels. Are you going to make dinner or should I?”

“Uh. You seem busy, I’ll do it,” Chase offered. “Right after the squirrels.”

It was well into the night by the time everyone was settled down. Quentin was fine, he hadn’t caught a cold, which was a huge relief. He’d been born a bit weaker than other children, and didn’t have as much energy as them. He often fell ill, and it was always a worry to Chase and Stacia. Amabel was heartier, but she was a quiet child. She often wandered about on her own, and was very familiar with the layout of Hilltown and the potato farms on the edge of the village, where many people worked, including Stacia. At ten years old, it was about time for her to start taking up more serious chores, and she’d asked Chase to take her hunting more than once. Of course, she had to learn to shoot first, and luckily for her, he was ready to teach her soon.

They had mutton for dinner, which they’d traded for with Rainer. Chase had managed to shoot down a bird last week, and the farmer had gladly traded a sheep for that. Now they were all sitting, taking the time to rest. Stacia was sitting in the rocking chair, patching up a hole in one of her tunics, while Amabel and Quentin were sitting by the stone fireplace, both of them now under the winter quilt.

“Don’t get too close, kids,” Chase called from his position near the window, where he was drawing their curtains closed. “A spark could fly and catch that fabric on fire.”

“It’s fine,” Amabel said, pulling the blanket closer and wrapping it around her and Quentin’s legs. “Dad, we need new curtains, those are old.”

“I know, Amy,” Chase muttered, glancing at the threadbare fabric. “But we can’t get any right now, so we’re keeping these until they fall apart.”

“Hmm.” Amabel hummed. “Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Can we have a story?”

At that suggestion, Quentin perked up. “A story! Yes!”

Chase’s eyes lit up. “Oh, well, I guess we could have one.”

Stacia looked up. “It’s late. And you need your sleep, Quentin, just in case.”

“It’ll be a short one, then,” Chase said. He walked over and sat down in one of the three rickety wooden chairs by the table. The kids spun around so their backs were to the fireplace and scooted a bit closer, though not out of range for the heat of the fire. “Where do you want your story to be from tonight? Down in the flatlands? Maybe along the coast or in the ocean? Or even in Suilthair, where the king lives?”

“What about…here?” Amabel suggested. “In the mountains?”

“Hmm…” Chase stroked his chin, fingers running along his beard hair. “You know what? I think I could work with that.”

Quentin cheered. Amabel stayed quiet, but she leaned forward, ready to hear. Stacia sighed quietly, continuing to patch, but occasionally glanced upwards, showing she was listening as well.

“Do you know what our mountain range is called in the flatlands? It’s just home to us, but to them, we live in the Dragon’s Teeth.” Chase paused for Quentin to gasp. “It’s called that for two reasons. One, because of how high and pointy they are, looking a bit like teeth. Two, because years and years ago, before people moved up into the mountains, dragons lived here.”

“What?!” Quentin whispered. “Big dragons?! Like in the warrior story?”

“Even bigger! Because up in the mountains they had a ton of space to grow into. They lived in caves, and each dragon had its own mountain.” Chase smiled. “Of course, there aren’t any dragons anymore. At least, not in our kingdom. Who knows? Maybe there are more across the seas. But dragons were very magical, and a whole bunch of other magical creatures gathered around the spaces where they used to live, sucking up all the leftover magic.”

“Do wizards get their magic from dragons?” Amabel asked.

Chase shrugged. “I don’t know. Our family’s not that magical, so I never learned that. Maybe you could find that out one day.”

Amabel nodded, her little eyes determined to answer this question someday.

“But even though there aren’t any dragons anymore, there are a lot of other creatures. You know what I always say to do if something bad happens in town?”

“Run to the forest,” the kids said in unison.

“Exactly.” Chase nodded. “Mom and I will come find you. And if nothing’s happened by the next sunset, you come back to town on your own.” That last part was added at Stacia’s request, since she was concerned about food and woodland animals. “You know all the rules about avoiding wolves and bears, but…there are MAGICAL things in the forest. So I have three more rules for you: if a deer has golden antlers, don’t bother it. If you see a horse out on its own, don’t touch it. And if you hear a woman crying, don’t go after it.”

Quentin nodded, but Amabel tilted her head to the side. “Why? And that last one, what if it’s Mom?”

“Well, you could recognize Mom’s voice,” Chase said. “I mean if it sounds like a strange woman. Because that might not be a woman at all. That could be a banshee. They won’t mean you any harm on their own, but if they see you, they’ll try to tell you about coming tragedies. Sounds like a good warning, right? Except that hearing this warning makes the tragedy more likely to happen. So you should stay away. One time, while I was out hunting about, um…ten years ago, before you were born. I was out with Micheal down the bend, we heard someone crying. I decided to walk away, but Micheal chased after it, and when he came back he said he found a banshee. And the next morning, very suddenly, his mother died.”

“Oh no,” Quentin breathed. “What about the other two?”

“A deer with golden antlers probably isn’t a deer at all. It could be the Elder Horned One in disguise. If you disturb him, you could find yourself whisked away to join his hunters. And a horse out on its own DEFINITELY isn’t a horse at all. It’s actually a kelpie. And if you touch a kelpie, you’ll get stuck to it. It’ll run into the nearest water and drag you under, and you won’t be able to let go.”

“Alright, I think that’s enough for the night,” Stacia said, standing up. “Amabel, Quentin, you’re all washed up?”

“Yes, Mom,” they said in unison.

“Good. Off to bed with you.” Stacia hurried the kids over to the corner, where the small bed the two of them shared was tucked against the wall. “We’ll be seeing you in the morning,” she said, pulling back the blankets and tucking them in once the kids were under.

Chase wandered over. “Good night, Quen. Good night, Amy.” He gave them each a kiss on the forehead.

“Good night Dad,” Amabel said. Quentin was already yawning, face buried in the pillow. “Good night Mom.”

“Good night,” Stacia said, giving her and Quentin a kiss as well.

With that, the two adults retreated to the separate bedroom, quickly getting ready for bed. “You ended that story abruptly,” Chase commented.

“Well you did say they were going to get drowned by a kelpie,” Stacia pointed out.

“No, I said that they wouldn’t be if they didn’t touch it. It was a cautionary tale.”

“Still, not the best to hear at night.” Stacia ran a comb through her hair. “And also, I don’t think we should tell them to go into the forest anymore. Not without an adult there.”

“Really?” Chase frowned. “Why?”

“It’s dangerous.”

“Oh, come on, Stacy. I know it is, but you can’t tell me you didn’t run around the forest when you were their age. I know I did, and I walked out. Michael did. Terrance did. Wendy and Emilia did.”

“Things are different now,” Stacia said slowly. She shifted uneasily on her feet, then glanced out the window, as if making sure nobody was outside. “Look, you know Rose, Aodhan’s wife?”

“No, but I definitely know Aodhan, he runs the potato farms.”

“Well, Rose is married to him. The past week, she’s been working with us for the harvest, and…she says there are…new things in the forest.”

Chase paused. He’d been about to blow out the candle in the sconce by the door, but something about the way Stacia said that made him pause. “Like…what?”

“Townsfolk have been seeing the figures of…people,” Stacia whispered. “But not your regular, everyday people. These ones carry weapons, a-and they wear…masks. Masks shaped like animal faces. They move quickly and silently, and some think that they’re spirits of some kind.”

“I’ve…never heard of spirits wearing animal masks,” Chase said in a low voice.

“Neither have I. But here’s the thing: Rose doesn’t believe those rumors.” Stacia paused. “Did you know there’s trouble down in the flatlands? People are…unhappy. With how the king is running things.”

“What? That’s strange,” Chase muttered. “I remember hearing that he’s the best king Glasúil ever had.” Though now that he was thinking about it, it had been a while since he’d heard something like that.

“Well, it’s trouble either way to have people thinking that about a king,” Stacia said firmly. “And Rose thinks that these spirits in masks are just people running around the forest, hiding out, being rebels. And that’s dangerous, Chase. Animals and magic behave by certain rules you can expect, but people…you just don’t know with them.”

“I guess you’re right,” Chase muttered. He paused, then blew out the candle and headed back towards bed. “Well, I haven’t seen any of these masked spirits. And I’m in the forest every day. So it’s probably nothing to worry about yet.”

“That forest is big, Chase,” Stacia said, clearly worried despite his reassurance. “You’ve probably only explored a tiny part of it, and the same goes for anyone else in town.”

That was true. Even in his farthest hunting trips, he’d only gone far enough to find his way back to Hilltown relatively quickly. “I still say it’ll be fine,” he reiterated. “I don’t see why any rebels would bother us, even if they were out there.” He climbed into bed. “If I see something weird when I’m out tomorrow, I’ll reconsider it. Besides, it’s not good to think about things like this before bed, as you pointed out to the kids.”

Stacia sighed, and got into bed as well, pulling the blankets up. “I just…don’t want anything to happen to them.”

Chase nodded. “I don’t either,” he agreed softly. Then he took a deep breath. “Good night, Stacy.”

“Good night, Chase.” Stacia leaned over and blew out the candle on the bedside table, leaving the room dark except for the moonlight coming through the window.
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The next morning went the same as every other morning. The family had breakfast, either Stacia or Chase went out to manage the garden while the other took care of the kids—today it was Chase for the former and Stacia for the latter, though they switched every other day—then Stacia got ready to go to the farms and Chase got ready to go hunting. As always, the kids went with Stacia, wandering around within eyesight and earshot of her while she worked. Though Chase could tell Amabel was eager to start going into the more dangerous forest with her dad, judging by the way she kept looking at her miniature bow, still unstrung. He ruffled her hair and reminded her that Hunt’s Day was just two days away, then headed off, waving goodbye to Stacia and the kids.

Passing through town was the same as ever as well. Some people were lined up at the well, as they always seemed to be. It looked as though the temple was unchanged, so clearly Mother Aoife and Pastor Cait had resolved their issue. Kieran waved goodbye as Chase walked past, and reminded him to look for beavers to shoot.

And from there…the day was largely uneventful. Which was not good. Hunting was always a lot of waiting and wandering and being quiet, occasionally interrupted by action as you aimed and shot at an animal. But in the fall like this, that last bit of action was becoming rarer. And it didn’t help that it was really starting to get cold. Chase could see his breath in the air in front of him, and he kept pulling his felt hat down over his head. It was old, and almost nobody else in town had one like it, but he kept it because it had a handy brim for blocking the sun. It was also good for cold days like these, when he hadn’t grabbed his jacket because he mistakenly believed it would be as warm today as it was yesterday.

The sun passed overhead. Chase stopped around midday to have a lunch of bread and jerky, then moved on. He stopped by his usual snares, but found that nothing had stumbled into them. Not even a few squirrels like the day before. Growing frustrated, and more than a little desperate, he wandered farther into the forest, but still found nothing. This was bad. Sure, they had a stockpile of preserved meat and jerky from his hunts during the summer, but that would run out eventually. And what if Quentin got sick, and needed something more hearty than dried, stringy meat? What would they do then?

It was starting to get late when he saw it. Just a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. Chase stiffened, and slowly turned. There, right in between two trees, fully in view of him…was a deer. Its coat was dark brown, almost black, and it was grazing peacefully, not paying him the least bit of attention. It had been a few weeks since he’d seen a deer. That was a bit unusual, really. But it didn’t matter anymore. There was one here now. Slowly, he drew his bow.

The deer raised its head and started to walk away. Carefully, Chase followed it. He stepped carefully, making sure there were no twigs or crunchy fallen leaves before putting his foot down. After a while, the deer stopped again, grazing for a bit. Chase made sure he was in a good position, then raised his bow and reached towards the quiver on his hip. Then the deer started walking away again.

Chase followed it, for longer than he probably should have. The shadows grew more slanted, then started to take over, but he kept following the deer. Every time he got into a good position to shoot and started to grab an arrow, it moved on. After a while, it felt like a game. A game of…chase. He almost laughed when the thought occurred to him, but stopped just in time to catch the sound.

It was well into dusk when the deer wandered into a small circular clearing. Chase stopped, still hidden by the trees, and gritted his teeth to stop them from chattering. Once the sun went behind the mountains in autumn, the temperature dropped rapidly. But it wouldn’t be long now. He had to get this deer. They needed it. And now it was just standing there, ears twitching. Chase raised the bow again, and this time when he reached for an arrow, he pulled it out and slowly nocked it, steadying his stance to take aim.

But then…no, something was different. The deer’s antlers…had they gotten bigger? More…curvy? Chase paused, puzzled. Then he took a closer look.

The antlers were…glinting. He was sure they were ordinary bone before, but now they looked almost…golden.

Gasping, Chase instantly let go of his bow and arrow. They landed in the undergrowth with soft thumps.

The deer’s ears stopped twitching. But instead of running away, it turned around. And it looked at him. And there was something different about its dark, dark eyes. Different from other deer eyes, from other animal eyes, that Chase had seen before.

He slowly raised his hands. “I—I didn’t kn—”

The deer looked away from him, turnin to the side, staring off into the distance. Then it broke into a run in the opposite direction, hooves making no sound on the forest floor.

For a long, long while, Chase just stood there, shivering, breath pluming in the air. Had that…really happened? Or had he just imagined it because he’d been out in the cold for so long? After some time, he bent over and picked up his bow and the arrow he’d dropped, putting them away. Well, it was also dark. He could’ve been just…seeing things in the moonlight. And speaking of moonlight, he should really be heading home by now. He was late. Now…which way was it?

He’d wandered a long way following that deer. It was dark and he wasn’t as familiar with this part of the forest as he was with areas closer to home. So by the time he found his way back, it was definitely night, no longer twilight. Stacia and the kids must be so worried. Chase picked up the pace.

Wait…if it was night, then why was there an orange glow in the distance? It was well past sunset. Chase squinted, and in a split second, he realized a few things: First, the glow was coming from the direction of Hilltown. Second, even if it was sunset, the forest was west of town, and therefore the town wouldn’t be between him and the sunset. Third, he was getting closer to the glow. Closer in a way that just didn’t happen with a setting sun. His heart froze. And he burst into a flat run, easily clearing the edge of the forest.

The village was on fire.

Chase just stood and gaped for a moment, feeling the heat from here. The wooden buildings that ran up the sloping ground were all ablaze. He could see dark shapes in the streets, and the figures of people running around, with—horses? A lot of horses. There were only about four in the whole town, and this was definitely more than that.

Snapping out of the daze, he ran, but in his haste, lost footing on the uneven ground and fell, tumbling head over heels for a bit before he managed to stop himself. “Ow…” he groaned, lifting himself up and coming face to face with the flames. Quickly, he threw himself backwards, scrambling to a safe distance.

Now that he was closer, he could definitely make out what was happening. The dark shapes on the ground between the burning buildings…were bodies. He couldn’t recognize anyone, but then again, he couldn’t bring himself to look for any longer than necessary. And there were strangers wandering around. Some on foot, some on horses, but all wearing chain mail armor underneath dark tunics. Chase stared at them, wide-eyed. The strangers were shouting. To each other? To their horses? To anyone left? It was hard to tell.

But they hadn’t noticed Chase. Quickly getting to his feet, he started running around the edge of town. He had to get home! At this time of night, Stacia would be there, Quentin and Amabel would be there—were they okay?! They had to be okay! He didn’t know what he would do if—He wouldn’t forgive himself if he was away and missed being able to help them.

Going around town was a lot slower than going through it, but everything—everything—was on fire. Even the stone buildings! How was that possible?! If the stone buildings were on fire, their cottage could—he pushed himself to run faster.

He couldn’t avoid it anymore. He had to run into the town to get home. But the smoke—even from here, his eyes were watering. So he took his hat off and pressed it to his face, filtering it before he could breathe it in. And he plunged into the raging flames. Even staying in the center of the path, the heat was almost unbearable. But Stacia—Quentin, Amabel—

The cottage. Their home. It was also on fire. The old curtains were ash, the vegetable garden was a raging inferno. “Stacia!” Chase shouted. “Stacy! Quentin! Amabel! Stacy! Quen! Amy! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

Voices. Chase turned and saw some of those strangers nearby, one on a horse. And…he hadn’t noticed this before, but there was a symbol on the back of their dark tunics. A shield, black and blue striped, with a green circle in the center, a black dot in the center of that. The symbol was—it was—the symbol for their kingdom, the kingdom of Glasúil. Chase had never seen it in person, but everyone grew up learning of that insignia. And they also learned that, while local militia may wear a simplified green ring on their clothes, only soldiers working directly for the royal family were allowed to wear the full crest.

Chase recalled this fact dimly, but it didn’t really register. One of the strangers—the soldiers—started to turn around. And gasping, coughing a bit, Chase turned and ran right back out of town, never stopping until he was well clear of the last few houses, out onto the potato fields. In the distance, he saw the house of Aodhan and Rose, the farm owners. It was also on fire.

What was he supposed to do now?! Stacia, and the kids…were they…? No, no they couldn’t be.

The forest.

He’d told the kids to run into the forest if there was ever any danger in town. And sure, Stacia was concerned about rebels in the woods and those strange masked figures, but in the face of this? Maybe she would do the same. Well…it was all he could think of. The only straw he could grasp. Stumbling, Chase turned around and ran back the way he came.

The trees enveloped him in a strange sense of calm, a world removed from the blazing horrors of the burning town. He stumbled for a moment, tripping over some brush, then ran faster. “Stacia! Quentin! Amabel!” he yelled. Even with the distant light from the flaming ruins of the village, the trees above blocked out most of the light, leaving him in shadows. His eyes darted about for any movement. “Where are you?! Can you hear me?”

Abandoning all his hunter’s instincts telling him to stay quiet, he ran through the woods, staggering over brush and rocks that he couldn’t see in the darkness. “Can you hear me?! Answer me! Stacy! Quen! Amy!” Chase’s cries pierced through the silence. There was no sign of them. Maybe they’d gone farther. Thinking that, he plunged deeper into the trees.

Things quickly became unfamiliar. Whether it was because of the distance or because of the darkness, he couldn’t say. But the strangeness only spurred him on. What if his family was lost out here? Alone in the woods? He’d taught the kids something about foraging for food, but not enough, not in this situation. And Stacia was a farmer, not a hunter or a forester. He had to find them. He had to—

Chase noticed the lack of ground beneath his foot a split second after stepping forward. Then he fell. Luckily, it wasn’t off a cliff, but he did land with a loud SPLASH! as he fell into some shallow water. Pebbles and rocks bit into this arms as he extended them out to brace for impact. He sat up, spluttering, now completely soaked. What was this, a stream? A pond? He couldn’t quite see in the dark, but he did know one thing: there were no streams or ponds near the town, and certainly not in the parts of the forest he knew.

Securing his hat, he stood up. His bow and quiver knocked against his side, and he then realized that the fall had caused most of his arrows to fall out. Well…that wouldn’t be good in the future. But he couldn’t see where they’d fallen into the water, and there was no time. He pressed onward.

The trees were close together, heavy branches blocking out the sun. Chase kept his arms out in front of him, to make sure he didn’t run into a trunk. If he couldn’t even see the trees, he definitely wouldn’t be able to see a person. And they wouldn’t be able to see him. “Stacia! Kids! A-are you out h-here?” He gritted his teeth to stop them from chattering. It was cold before, and now it was later, and he was wet, making it positively freezing. “Stacy! K-kids! Are you here?!” But he kept going.

The rush of emotion was starting to fade. He was getting tired. Maybe if he took a rest…no! No, what could be happening to them while he rested?! And besides, he’d be easy prey for any predators out here if he slept. He staggered forward. The forest was practically pitch black, but he kept shouting, his voice growing hoarse, and hoping to hear a reply.

The underbrush must be thicker here, because he kept tripping up. He fell down twice, but pulled himself to his feet and went onward. His hands were shaking…shivering. “S…Sta-asha. Quen…Quentnn…Ammbel,” he mumbled. It was hard to keep his eyes open. Where was he? Shouldn’t he…shouldn’t he have found some town by now? No, the forest went on for…for acres. He knew this. How could he forget…“Plea…pl’se…say y’r here…I…wher…?”

He couldn’t…couldn’t stop now. He needed to find them. Couldn’t…leave them. On their own. He kept pressing onward. It was getting so hard…he had to use the trees for support sometimes. Stop to take a break. But not to give up. “Can’…give up…St-stace…Quen…Am…ple-please…”

And once again, he stepped somewhere without support. But now he couldn’t even register it. He just knew he was falling, rolling down, down a hill. Coming to a stop when he hit…something. A tree? Those felt like…roots, beneath him. His arm moved a bit, trying to grab something to pull himself up. Fingers drifted across a bark-covered surface, but couldn’t…couldn’t grab. So his arm fell back down. Maybe…he should rest for just a few minutes.

But after just a few seconds of staying still, he heard a strange rustling sound. Raising his head weakly, he saw…a strange sight indeed. People. No, not quite people. Human bodies, dressed in dark clothes…but with white-feathered bird faces where heads should be. Four or five of them…Wait. No, not bird heads. Bird masks. Masks made out of some sort of white material. Hadn’t…hadn’t he heard something about masks recently?

The masked figures drew closer. Chase stared up at them. He was so…so tired. He wouldn’t be able to run even if the thought had managed to…to get through.

One of them knelt down next to him, pulling off a glove. They pressed a pair of fingers to his neck, and he shivered. He wasn’t cold anymore. Or he was, but this bird person’s hands were colder.

They stood up again, and turned to the others. He heard the sound of voices, but his head couldn’t process the words. What were they…were they hear to…help? Or…?

He was too tired to think about it. He let his head fall back to the forest floor.

The last thing Chase felt before losing consciousness was the sudden lift of someone picking him up.

Part Eleven of the Switch AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of an ongoing fic series I started in April 2019. After nine months, our missing friend returns, and the rest of the group is relieved. But things aren't instantly fixed and all better. Quick warning, there are some things that could possibly be upsetting. Mentions of self-harm, though nothing actually happens. Read at your own risk.]
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It was late at night, and the suburb streets were almost completely empty. There was just a single car driving down the road, a small silver one passing below the yellow streetlights. The woman at the wheel kept glancing out the side window every minute or so, seeing what has changed since she was last in the neighborhood. It probably wasn’t the safest thing to do, but then again, if she hadn’t been looking out the window, she probably wouldn’t have noticed the person on the side of the road at all.

She drove past at first, but then she suddenly hit the breaks. What was that guy doing out here this late at night? That was…a little weird. She looked back at the person—now upon further inspection, she decided it was a man—again. Then she backed up. Illegal, maybe, but she didn’t particularly care. “Hey, there,” she called, rolling down the window by the sidewalk. “Um… How’re you?”

The man stared at her, silent and swaying on his feet. He…didn’t look good. His hair was a ratty mess, held back in a ponytail. He was extremely pale, practically white. As she watched, he folded his thin arms, hugging himself. He was shivering, despite the warm summer night.

“Um…” The woman debated whether or not to go through with her next idea. She’d heard stories about thieves and worse using a vulnerable face to fool people into trusting them. But in the end, she couldn’t take the chance that this was a trick. She’d take the risk. “You need a ride?”

After a moment of continuing to stare at her with wide blue eyes, the man nodded. She unlocked her car doors, leaning across the seat to push the passenger-side door open. The man climbed inside, shutting it behind him. He didn’t look at her, instead staring forward blankly. Now that she was seeing him up close, he…he looked even worse. His cheeks were hollow, shoulders sharp and bony. “So…where to?” The woman asked. “And, uh, are…are you okay?”

The man mumbled something that she couldn’t quite make out.

“…I see.” She looked him over again. Now, she noticed his exposed arms were bruised and battered. And his wrists…she didn’t even want to look at them, they were just…mangled. “Um…” She picked up her phone, searching for a destination on her GPS. Once she’d found the address, she put the phone down and put her car back into gear. “We’re going to the hospital, okay?”

“Mm-hmm…mhh.” The man leaned backwards against the car seat and closed his eyes.

The woman started driving once again. “Umm…what’s your name?”

The man didn’t answer. When she glanced over at him, he wasn’t moving. Normally she would’ve assumed he’d fallen asleep, but with the condition he was in…she dared to speed a little above the limit.

Upon arriving at the hospital, the woman tried to shake the man conscious, but to no avail. She didn’t want to try slapping or shouting, so she awkwardly tried carrying him in both arms.

“Ma’am? Ma’am! You can’t park here!” A woman in scrubs was running towards her from the nearest entrance. “This is for designated vehicles only!”

She spun around, staring down at the shorter woman. “This man needs medical attention,” she said coolly. “I will move my car once I’m sure that he has it. If it takes too long, feel free to tow it.”

The hospital worker was taken aback; the woman’s tone left no room for argument. She pointed back towards the entrance. “Reception is that way, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” She walked as quickly as she dared in that direction, holding the man close to her.

The hospital’s reception was mostly empty, though there were a few people sitting around. All of them watched as the woman ran right up to the check-in desk. “This is an emergency,” she stressed. “You need to get this man in there right now.”

The man sitting at the desk stared up at her, shocked. “Al…alright, ma’am.” He pulled the keyboard of his computer close. Briefly, he looked at the monitor to type, but then after a moment, he looked back at the man, face scrunching in confusion…and something else. “Who is he?”

“I-I don’t know,” the woman admitted. “I found him on the side of the road.”

At that moment, a man in a white coat—a doctor—entered the reception, door swinging closed behind him. He approached the desk. “Thomas, do you—” He started to say, glancing at the woman. And then he stopped. He turned to fully look at the woman, then down at the man she was carrying.

“Hi, Dr. Green,” the receptionist Thomas said. “Sorry, I need to take care of this, she says that this man needs urgent attention.”

“Damn right he does,” Dr. Green said. He grabbed a small radio device from his belt. “Dr. Green to the A&E department, get a trauma team down here. Now!”

The team arrived within five minutes, bringing a gurney with them. They moved quickly, taking the man from the woman and laying him out, checking pulse and breathing as they rushed him back down the hall they came from.

Dr. Green turned to the woman. “Thank you.”

“Oh! Um, you’re welcome.” She was a bit confused by the phrase; it sounded oddly personal. “I couldn’t just leave him there. Can you find out who he is?”

Dr. Green smiled. “I know who he is. He used to work here, nine months ago.”

The woman blinked. “Ah. Well then. Can I ask who he is?”

“His name’s Jackie. Dr. Jackie Parker.”
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The phone was ringing. In fact, it had been ringing for five minutes straight. Rama blinked the sleep out of their eyes and rolled over to grab their cell phone. They squinted at the bright screen, blinding them in the dark room. This was a familiar number. But what was he doing calling them at 12:30 in the morning?

Rama accepted the call, holding the phone to their ear. “Hello, Karter. What is it?” They laid back in bed, listening to the other end. Then their eyes widened, and they sat straight up. “You’re kidding. Karter Green, is this a joke?” They listened for a while more, then threw their blankets away, standing up. “Holy shit, I’m there. Just give me some time, I need to wake up Michelle and drive there. I-I’ll see you once we arrive.”

Over half an hour later, another phone across the city started to ring—or, vibrate, since it was on silent. This call was picked up much quicker than the other.

“Rama, why are you calling me?” Anti asked. “You never call me.”

“Anti!” Rama shouted. “They found him.”

For a moment, Anti couldn’t say anything. He was frozen. He was staring at his computer screen, but he wasn’t seeing it. All that he saw was Jackie—Jackie laughing, Jackie knocking on the door to check on him, Jackie offering to watch Will for the evening, Jackie saying goodbye on the last day he’d seen him. “They did?” His voice came out oddly strangled.

“They did!” Rama also sounded choked up. “Michelle and I are at the hospital now, the one h-he worked—works at. He’s…he’s really here. He’s alive.”

Anti was silent for a long while. “Th-that’s great. Oh my god.” He didn’t know what to say. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to express the wave of warmth and relief he was drowning in? He hadn’t expected to be feeling this. “H-have you called anyone else?”

“I called Henrik, but he didn’t pick up, so I left him a text,” Rama said. “I’m about to call Jameson and Marvin.”

“Do that right fucking now. I-I gotta—I gotta figure out how to get there.” It was one in the morning, the buses were closed and he couldn’t drive. Should he bring Will? It sounded like Rama had brought Michelle, but she was Jackie’s daughter. If he didn’t bring him, he’d have to find someone to watch him—

Why was he just sitting here?! He had to get there now! Anti pushed his chair back, knocking it over. There was no way he was waiting until morning to see Jackie again.
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After shouting at various hospital personnel for a while, Anti was finally let into the ICU. He made a beeline for the room where Jackie was, easily identifiable by the fact that Rama and Michelle were outside the door. Michelle was sitting on a plastic hospital chair, wearing her Supergirl pajamas and swinging her feet. Rama, meanwhile, was talking to a woman with a short blonde undercut. The woman was dressed neatly, and lacking the usual ID that hospital employees wore. Anti glared at her. He walked right up to the group and asked, “Who the hel—heck is this?”

Rama sighed, but smiled at him. “Hi, Anti. You got here quick.”

“Got a ride with a neighbor, and got her to watch Will, too. Who is this?”

“This is Ms. Davidson, she’s the one who found Jackie,” Rama explained.

Ms. Davidson flashed a smile, holding out a hand. “Charming. Are you Jackie’s brother?”

Anti folded his arms, not taking the woman up on her offered handshake. “I might as well be at this point. How do you know him?”

“Well, I don’t.” Ms. Davidson curled her hand into a fist and withdrew it. “I was driving and I saw him walking down the side of the road and he looked…well, I thought it would be a good idea to get him here soon.”

“You’re American.” Anti noted her accent. “What are you doing here? Where did you find him?”

“The suburbs, southeast side of the city.” Ms. Davidson folded her arms. “And I’m here for my own reasons, that I don’t have to explain to you.”

“And you just happened to be driving through the suburbs, in the middle of the night? Why?” Anti demanded. “Lose your hotel or something?”

“Anti, stop,” Rama suddenly snapped. “Don’t you dare immediately just into this with your sh—stuff. Not right now. She found him, that’s all that matters.”

With that, Anti glanced towards the closed door to the hospital room. His expression softened, just a bit. “Fine. Thanks, Karen.”

“My name is St—”

Anti didn’t bother to listen to Ms. Davidson, quickly walking to the door and closing it behind him and cutting her off.

The room was about average, for what hospital rooms looked like. And Anti was quite familiar with what they looked like, having been in quite a few of them. But he never could’ve imagined that he’d one day see Jackie in the hospital bed. Let alone like this. Jackie was sleeping, or maybe unconscious, looking quite small underneath the white blanket. His hair was spread out across the pillow, a few strands shorter than the rest. They must’ve had to cut the hair elastic out, to get his hair out of the ponytail. There were a few wires and tubes hooked up to Jackie, including one leading to a bag of blood and a mask on his face leading to a supply of oxygen.

Anti pulled one of the hospital chairs closer to the bed, spinning it around before sitting down, so he could rest his arms on the back of the chair. He was silent for a long, long moment. Jackie…he was really back. Hesitantly, Anti reached out and gently picked up one of Jackie’s hands, careful not to touch the bandage wrapped around his wrist. He ran his thumb over the back of it, feeling each place where the bones stood out. “God…” he whispered, his voice breaking on the single syllable. “What did he do to you?”

Jackie didn’t answer, of course. Anti glanced over at the various machines surrounding the bed, noting the steady rate of the vital signs. He sighed. Deeply. For what felt like a long time, he just sat there, holding Jackie’s hand. Until the fingers twitched. The steady breathing hitched a bit, and Jackie’s eyelids fluttered open.

“…H…hey, there,” Anti said quietly. He gently squeezed Jackie’s hand—very carefully, more of a slight applying of pressure than anything else.

Jackie’s breath hitched again. His eyes swiveled over to look at Anti without moving his head. They widened slightly. “A-an…ti…?” Jackie’s voice was hoarse, rough with either disuse or overuse, hard to tell.

Anti smiled, trying to look cheerful. “Yeah. It’s me. You’re in the hospital, it’s alright.”

Jackie tried to squeeze his hand back. But then his eyes narrowed. “…real?” he asked. “P…prove…it.”

“Prove it?” Anti thought about this for a while. How would he go about doing that? “Well…alright, I guess.” He took a deep breath. “You remember how we met, right? It was actually in this same hospital. But, y’know, I was in the bed this time. You were just on your rounds, and you looked inside my room to check on me, because you’re a friendly bastard like that. And I told you to fuck off.” Anti laughed a bit. “Well, actually, I couldn’t talk, but I wrote it down on the whiteboard they gave me. And when you wouldn’t go away, I just kept writing it bigger and underlining it and stuff. And then you did fuck off, but an hour later you showed up again, and you brought a milkshake from the cafeteria ‘cause you said it looked like I needed one. And when I didn’t tell you to fuck off that time, you kinda just…sat there. And talked to me.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “So…yeah. I-I don’t know if that would help, but I mean, I never told anyone but Will that story—without saying I said ‘fuck off,’ of course.”

Throughout most of the talking, Jackie’s eyes had stayed narrowed. It wasn’t until the end that he relaxed. He closed his eyes, and once again tried to squeeze Anti’s hand. “…yeah…” he rasped.

Anti nodded. He felt his heart in his throat. For a moment, he thought it would leap right out. But then he felt a sudden shock of cold, as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over him. He suddenly cleared his throat, pulling his hand back. “Rama and Michelle are here, too,” he said. “I-I’ll go get them.” And with that, he stood up, walked back to the door and opened it.

Upon hearing that Jackie was awake, Rama burst into the room, holding Michelle by the hand. “Oh…” They breathed, and then hurried to stand next to the bed, leaving the hospital chair for Michelle to sit in. “Hey, Jackieboy.” They smiled, blinking back watery eyes before reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from Jackie’s face. “It…it’s good to see you again.”

Michelle scooted the chair closer. “Hi, Daddy.” She was whispering. “Ren said to be careful ‘cause you’re hurt. So I’m gonna say hi from here instead of hugging.”

Jackie couldn’t say anything, just staring at the two of them. All of a sudden, he began crying, softly.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay, Jackieboy,” Rama said. They started to cry too, though they were still smiling. “You know the guys here, you’re in good hands.”

Anti left. He didn’t want to intrude on this warm family moment.
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The others came to see Jackie the next day. Marvin and JJ arrived together, of course. They showed up in the morning, looking as if they’d just woken up. JJ immediately began talking Jackie’s ear off about what had happened while he was gone, and though it was unusual for him to talk that much, the hospital had absolutely refused to let him give Jackie a hug, so he settled for showing relief in a different way. Marvin had actually been quiet this time. At a pause in JJ’s talking, he leaned forward and simply said, “I’m sorry.” The words were heavy, as was his expression; it was as if he knew exactly what that sympathetic phrase, usually said so briefly, without any true knowledge, was directed at. Jackie had started to cry again after hearing it.

Schneep arrived later that afternoon. The moment he stepped into the room, he began babbling explanations about how he’d gone to sleep early the night before and hadn’t seen Rama’s calls, and how when he saw what happened in the morning he’d tried to get off work so he could come see him sooner—eventually he ran out of steam and just collapsed on the hospital chair. Jackie had cried again, full-on sobbing this time, spluttering out phrases about how he’d thought Schneep had died that day he’d been taken. Schneep had used that moment to curse Distorter, then assured Jackie that the poison was entirely out of his system. Eventually, they both fell quiet. Schneep refused to leave for three more hours.

Eventually, the details of the situation were passed from Rama—who had been the one the hospital told, due to being Jackie’s spouse—to the group of friends. In short, Jackie’s condition was not good. The biggest problems were malnutrition and muscle weakness, followed shortly by infections from a few healing wounds, and the scar damage from wounds that had already healed. He’d need to stay in the hospital for a month more at least, and even after he was let out, he’d probably need to continue physical therapy. Everyone was happy to accommodate this. Rama visited the hospital nearly every day, and Schneep was in a close second. JJ would visit and brainstorm with Jackie about his plans for his next show, and Marvin brought a series of books that he would read out loud to Jackie stuck in bed.

The only one who didn’t show up again was Anti.

A week after Jackie being admitted into the hospital, this routine was interrupted while it was still being established. Schneep was visiting, telling Jackie about something that happened while he was at work, when the hospital door opened, and two strangers walked in. “Sorry, is this the room for Mr. Parker?” one asked.

Schneep glanced at Jackie, who nodded. “It is,” Schneep said. “Why? Who are you?”

“I’m so sorry to interrupt, but this is a fairly urgent matter,” the other stranger said. She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a badge. “My name is Detective Kikelomo, this is my partner, Detective Laurens.”

“I…see.” Schneep tried very hard to remain calm, though his face had immediately lost color. “What is this matter, then?”

“Are you Mr. Parker’s brother, sir?” Detective Laurens asked.

“Well, no—”

“Family, of any kind?”

Schneep chuckled. “Well, actually, no. It is just a coincidence, how we look.”

Detective Kikelomo frowned. “This might be—”

“Please let him stay,” Jackie suddenly said. The adjustable bed was in a sitting position today, but he was still leaning heavily back, still hooked up to an IV and a supply of oxygen.

The detectives looked at each other, then looked back. “Alright, if you insist, Mr. Parker,” Kikelomo said. She cleared her throat. “As we said, we are detectives, we’re with the MPD. We wanted to…talk to you. About a couple things.”

Jackie stared at them. “Like what?”

Kikelomo looked back at Laurens again, but Laurens just waved the floor back to her. She sighed. “Well, I suppose there’s no beating around the bush. Like what happened to you, Mr. Parker.”

“Doctor,” Jackie said.

“I’m…sorry?” Kikelomo looked back at the door, as if expecting someone to be there.

“It’s Dr. Parker. I’m a doctor. I have an MD,” Jackie explained, almost monotonously.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Kikelomo hurried to say.

Next to her, Laurens ducked her head. The boys could barely hear her mutter, “How did we miss that?”

“Alright, Dr. Parker.” Kikelomo nodded firmly. “Well, we still need to talk about what happened. You…well, you were missing for nine months. We have a case open on you—or, we did, it was closed four months ago. And now that you’ve returned, it…” She paused, trying to think of a way to say this delicately. “…it’s clear that SOMETHING happened.”

Jackie, if possible, looked even paler than before. He didn’t say anything.

Laurens jumped in. “Obviously, you don’t have to say anything right now if you don’t want to,” she said. “But…well, our job is to keep people safe, and make sure justice is served. If you can tell us anything at all, that would be really helpful…in accomplishing those goals.”

Jackie stayed quiet. He looked down, and started playing with the remote to adjust the position of the hospital bed.

“I do not think you should be bringing this up right now,” Schneep said, glaring at the detectives.

“Of course, it doesn’t have to be taken care of right now,” Kikelomo backed off. “But, well…as soon as you’re able to talk, Dr. Parker. It’s important that we get this done. The sooner, the better.” She walked forward, and placed a small card on the table next to the bed. “This is my number. Feel free to call whenever.” She and Laurens headed towards the door. “We…we’ll be ready to hear from you, Dr. Parker. We wish you a speedy recovery.”

Once the two detectives were gone, Schneep snorted, and rolled his eyes. “Did they really think any of that official speak was going to work? Ah, well, at least they left you alone.” He looked at Jackie. “Are you okay?”

Jackie looked up at him. He smiled; it looked fragile, like it could break at any moment. “A little…shaken, but yeah. I just…don’t want to talk about…” he coughed. “What were you saying?”

“Are you sure?” Schneep pressed.

“Yeah, Volt. Just…not right now.” He coughed again. “Anyway, keep going, you were in the middle of something?”

Schneep did drop the subject, but he kept the incident in his mind.
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The hospital’s estimation was right; it was a month before Jackie was allowed to go home. A few days before he scheduled to be released, Rama called all of the group, asking each of them to show up at the house so they could welcome Jackie home. All of them agreed, though Anti had sounded strangely reluctant. Luckily the day was a weekend, so even though school had just started up, Will and Michelle would be there as well.

That day, all the boys were gathered in the living room of Jackie’s house. The kids were there as well, staring out the window. Rama had gone to pick up Jackie from the hospital, and now they were just waiting for them to return.

“This is going to be good, right?” JJ fretted. “I mean, I’m no doctor, but this is a good idea, right?”

“Jems, stop your worrywarting, it’ll do no good,” Marvin said, sitting on the couch. “If the doctors say so, t’en it is so. We jus’ have t’be careful.”

“Yes, exactly,” Schneep nodded firmly. “We should not push him to be okay. These things take time.”

Marvin nodded as well. “Exactly. Espec’ally after…everyt’ing t’at must’ve happened.” He went suddenly very quiet, shadows gathering in his eyes. “But don’ say he can’ do anyt’ing, t’at’s just adding insult to injuries.”

Anti, standing in the corner with his arms folded, didn’t say anything. He hadn’t said much at all, in fact.

Michelle suddenly started jumping up and down. “I see them! I see them!” She gasped. “They’re pulling in!”

Indeed, there was a car pulling into the driveway of the house, parking. JJ and Schneep hurried to look out the window as well. They watched as Rama stepped out of the driver’s-side door, then rounded the car to open the passenger’s side. They reached inside and helped Jackie step out. He stumbled for a moment, falling into Rama’s arms before recovering. Rama leaned over back into the car and grabbed a black cane from inside, handing it to Jackie.

A minute or so later, Rama pulled open the front door. “Home sweet home,” they said cheerfully.

Jackie poked his head inside. “Oh! It…it’s everyone.”

“Surprise, Daddy!” Michelle yelled. She ran up close, but stopped just before giving Jackie a hug, instead choosing to wave both hands furiously. “I made a banner! Do you like it?” The banner in question was several pieces of paper taped together to stretch across the fireplace, with “Welcome back Dad!” written on it in blue block letters that scrunched together at the end.

Jackie laughed. “I love it, sweetie.”

“Hi, Uncle Jackie,” Will said, smiling a bit shyly.

“Hello, Will. Wow, you’ve gotten taller.” He looked around at the others. “I see you’re all here, too.”

“Well, of course!” JJ said. “We couldn’t just not be here for a homecoming. Not the high school party, of course.”

“I’m jus’ glad t’ey let you change back into your clothes instead of keepin’ you in a gown,” Marvin muttered.

“Yeah, me too.” Jackie looked down at his T-shirt and jeans. His spare glasses were on his face, his first pair having been lost that day he disappeared. “I…I miss my hoodie, though.”

“Oh! Then you are going to love this!” Schneep bent over, and picked a pile of red cloth off the nearest chair. Holding it up, he revealed it was a hoodie. “You left it at my apartment that day! I’ve—I held onto it.” He smiled brightly.

Jackie’s eyes started watering; they’d been doing that a lot, lately. “Oh my god…” he whispered. He took a step forward, stumbled, then managed to cross the room. He took the hoodie and collapsed in the nearest chair. All he could do was run the familiar material through his hands. “Oh my god…th-thank you…”

“Is nothing,” Schneep said. “It is your hoodie, after all. I…I just kept it.”

Rama wiped at their eyes. “H-hey, I bought cake yesterday. Anyone want any?”

Everyone agreed that would be wonderful. Rama disappeared back into the kitchen, and reappeared with a stack of paper plates, some plastic forks, and a white cake box. The cake was custom, with a message on top saying “Welcome Home Jackie!” in red frosting.

“Wait, Jackie, can you actually have that?” JJ suddenly asked. “I thought there was a thing about you having solid foods.”

“There was,” Jackie confirmed. “But I passed that part. Besides, I don’t know if one slice of cake would be a problem.”

“Well, if you insist,” Marvin said, shrugging it off. “By the way, keep t’at close.” He pointed at Jackie’s black cane with his own. “’Tis startin’ to roll away. Y’don’ want t’at to happen.”

“Oh shi—shiitake mushrooms!” Jackie suddenly lunged to grab it. “Thanks, Marvin.”

Marvin grinned. “You’re welcome. It looks like we’re goin’ t’be buddies, huh? I can give you tips.”

“Only for a while,” Jackie said. “Georgia—she’s the physical therapist—said I’ll probably get past it. Thanks, though.”

“Are we going to eat cake or what?” Schneep asked.

“Shoot, I forgot the knife,” Rama cursed. “To cut it. Hang on, one second.” They disappeared back into the kitchen. When they reappeared, they were holding a small kitchen knife.

Jackie paled, shrinking back into his seat.

Luckily, Rama noticed. “Okay, here we go.” They cut the cake quickly. “Everyone come get a slice. Oh, looks like I forgot the spatula, too.” They once again returned to the kitchen, this time taking the knife with them. When they returned, the knife wasn’t there anymore. “Alright—hey stop trying to grab it with your hand, kids!” Rama waved Will and Michelle’s grabbing hands away. “That’s unsanitary.”

“Un-san-it-ary,” Michelle repeated, testing out the new word. Then she suddenly gasped. “Ren, are we going to have cake for my birthday or not because of this?!”

Rama chuckled. “Of course we’re having cake, if you want to. November is still two months away, after all.”

“Yay!” Michelle clapped her hands, waiting patiently this time for her slice of cake.

Everyone soon received a slice of cake, except for… “Dad, do you want any?” Will asked.

Anti, having not moved from his spot in the corner, smiled at Will. “Not right now, kid. Maybe later.”

“Are you sure, Anti?” JJ asked. “We have plenty.”

“I’m sure.” Anti leaned back against the wall, and said nothing more.

For a few moments, everyone talked and chatted about recent events in life. Rama talked about getting their latest story published in a book of short crime fiction stories. This prompted a short discussion about jobs, during which Schneep cursed out his new manager at the coffee shop, and Marvin countered by praising his boss at the bookstore. Will and Michelle answered some questions about how the new term was going before demanding to see some of JJ’s magic tricks. JJ obliged, of course, showing off a few quick conjurings.

About fifteen minutes later, Jackie pushed away his plate with his half-eaten cake. Without saying anything, he grabbed his new cane and pushed to his feet. Of course everyone noticed this, but Jackie just smiled. “Calm down, everyone, I’m just getting some water,” he said.

“Ah, I should’ve brought drinks,” Rama said, snapping their fingers. “I can go get some, if anyone else wants anything.”

“Just give me a moment to get mine,” Jackie said, starting to walk across the room. “Okay?”

“Alright, if you’re sure, Jackieboy.”

Jackie flashed a smile, then disappeared into the kitchen.

Anti narrowed his eyes. He finally moved from his spot, heading towards the hallway that led deeper into the house. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he said, not bothering to listen to anything anyone else said.

He didn’t actually head to the bathroom. Instead, he turned at the last minute, instead disappearing into the kitchen as well when nobody was looking. And when he walked into that room, he was met by the sight of Jackie, leaning against the counter and holding a knife in one hand.

“Fuck!” Anti lunged forward. “Jackie, no!”

“An—! What are you—?!” Jackie gasped, eyes wide.

Anti was right in front of him in seconds. “Give that to me!” He grabbed Jackie’s wrist and tried to pry his fingers away from the knife handle.

“No!” Jackie grabbed the knife with his other hand, now holding it in a two-handed grip. He jabbed his elbow at Anti, hitting a spot just below his eye and causing him to back out. “I-I need to do this!”

“You don’t!” Anti shook his head, and lunged again. “Trust me, you never need to do this!”

In the brief tangle that followed, the two of them ended up falling to the floor. Tears sprang to Jackie’s eyes as he hit his head on the handle of a drawer, and he let them flow. “Anti, shut up!” He suddenly shrieked. His hands were shaking, but he refused to let go of the knife. “Just let me do this! Please!”

“Like hell I’m going to let you do this!” Anti snarled. “Give it here!”

“No!” Jackie kicked at him. The blow landed, but Anti just flinched, and kept reaching for the knife that Jackie was holding as far away from his as possible. “S-stop! Get away! Leave me alone! Leave me alone Dis—” Jackie suddenly cut himself off. His eyes were wide, and suddenly he began breathing much faster.

Anti finally drew back. “Jackie,” he said, shocked. “Jackie, I’m not him.”

The tears were staining Jackie’s face. “I-I kn-know, I kn-know, I know, I know I know I know—” He shook his head, gasping for air. “I know I know I know—”

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Anti held his hands in the air. “Deep breaths, you know? You know the 4-7-8 thing? Can you do that?”

Jackie didn’t react much, staring blankly forward. Slowly, he lowered the knife closer.

“Hey stop!” Anti grabbed Jackie’s wrist again. “Jackie, please, this won’t help you, trust me. Just put it down.”

Jackie let out a sob. “I n-n-need to get rid of it.”

“Look, it seems bad, but this is temporary. There are more things you can do beyond this.” Anti tried to keep his voice reassuring.

“No!” Jackie suddenly twisted his wrist, yanking at the same time with surprising force. Anti, startled, let go. “I-it needs to be shorter!”

That threw Anti off. He backed up. He’d been practically pinning Jackie to the cabinet behind him, and now he gave him more room to breathe. “…What needs to be shorter?”

“This!” Jackie reached up and yanked on his hair. Then he yelped, and threw his hand away. “I-I can’t, I can’t, can’t can’t, I-I-I-I—let me cut it, please—”

“Oh my—holy shit, Jackie.” Anti exhaled slowly. “You…you couldn’t just say that from the start? I-I thought you were going to…you couldn’t have just jumped in with that?”

“Please just let me do it,” Jackie pleaded, shaking his head. “I can’t, I can’t, I—” He suddenly slammed his head against the cabinet door. Anti yelped, and pulled him away from it. “D-don’t pull it a-anymore, please,” Jackie sobbed. “Please, Dis—I-I can’t do it, leave it alone—”

“Jackie, listen,” Anti said sternly. “I’m not Distorter. It’s me, Anti. I’m here.”

Jackie looked up at him with wet eyes. “Y-you always make them too nice, that’s what gives it away. Then they t-turn on me. I-It’s not real—!”

“Of course it’s real!” Anti said, shocked. “What do you want me to say? How can I prove to you—drop the knife!” He suddenly grabbed Jackie’s wrist again, which was in the process of moving the knife closer. “Please, I-I don’t want you to hurt yourself. By accident, either.” He listened to the sounds coming from the living room. Nobody seemed alarmed. Should he risk yelling for help and upsetting Jackie further?

Jackie’s breathing was hitching, his eyes wide. “Just let me have this. P-please.”

“Jackie, please put it down,” Anti pleaded. “I-I can’t trust you like this. It’s me. It’s Anti.” He blinked back sudden wetness in his eyes. “I’m…I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you.” His voice cracked. “I just—I got too close.”

For a moment, the two of them just stared at each other. Then suddenly, Jackie let go of the knife, letting it clatter to the kitchen floor. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Anti. His shoulder shook with sobs. Anti stiffened, then hugged him back in return. A single tear escaped.

“I-I just want it gone,” Jackie said through his cries. “I want it g-gone. I-I’ll grow it back when I’m okay again.”

“Of course, of course.” Anti rubbed circles on Jackie’s back. “But you can’t have a knife right now. I thought you were going to…to hurt yourself. On purpose.” He paused. “Jackie, promise me you’ll never do that.”

Jackie shook his head. “I…I wouldn’t do—”

“I know you wouldn’t, but promise me anyway,” Anti insisted. “And remember that you promised.”

Silence for a moment, except for a few more sobs. “I…promise.”

“That’s great, that’s great,” Anti said reassuringly.

Jackie cried for a bit longer. “Do you…mean that? When you said you’re sorry you d-didn’t see me?”

Anti swallowed the lump in his throat. “Yes. I am so…so sorry, Jackie. I just…” He took a deep breath. “Like I said, I got too close. It—it freaked me out. But fuck that, I’m going to be here now. For you.”

“Th…thank you,” Jackie rasped. His fingers curled into Anti’s jacket, holding tight.

Suddenly, footsteps behind them. And a gasp. Anti turned around to see Rama standing in the kitchen doorway. “…Jackie?” They asked. “Anti?”

Jackie suddenly started crying harder. He reached out, towards Rama, who immediately closed the distance, kneeling on the kitchen floor beside the other two. Jackie pulled them close. “He made me think you were dead…” Jackie whispered. “And Michelle, too. I saw it…”

“I’m right here, Jackieboy,” Rama said gently. “We all are.”

They stayed there for a while more, before Anti and Rama helped Jackie stand up and walk back to the living room. He was still sobbing, red-eyed and tears pouring. The others instantly latched onto it, and soon Jackie was at the center of a large group hug.

“It’s going to be okay.”

“We are here for you when you need us.”

“An’ we’re not goin’ anywhere.”

The gathering came to an end soon after that. Jackie had cried his eyes out, and now he just wanted to go to sleep. So they let him, settling down in his own bed. And they dispersed, going back to their own houses and lives.

And that night, Anti stared out of his apartment window, looking up at the few stars visible. Thinking.