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#brigid writes fanfiction


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.



Part Fifteen of the Inverted AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a fic series I wrote from December 2018 to August 2021. After the events of the last chapter, Anti gets ready to take action.]
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Anti glitched into the hub, emotionally exhausted after the long night. It was strange, for the longest time he thought he couldn’t get tired, even mentally, but then he met these bastards and suddenly he knew the definition of “worn out.” Whatever. He’d spent the last twelve hours or so running around and making sure they weren’t causing trouble, and he’d say that was worth it. He was behind on security footage from the house, though. It could probably wait a few more minutes while he changed the bandages on his neck.

Something bonked the back of his head, and he spun around. “Sam,” he greeted. “Hey.”

Sam ran into the side of his face. Several times.

“What are you doing?” He gently swiped them away. “I know this means something’s up, but it can wait a bit. I can feel the wet cloth on my throat and it’s very distracting.”

Sam leveled him with a narrow glare that said 'Well if you just let it heal like you did with every other wound you wouldn’t have to do that.'

“Don’t give me that look!” he scolded. “I don’t have to explain my reasoning to you AGAIN. Come get me after I deal with this.”

Anti glitched away to another room, only for Sam to dart forward and land on his shoulder just before he broke apart, coming along for the ride. The minute their particles reformed they began insistently thwapping his cheek with their optic nerve. He scowled. “WHAT?! What? Is it the security footage? You saying I have to check that NOW?”

Sam bobbed once, the symbol for yes.

“Fine.” He glitched once again, materializing in the room with the monitors. Technically if he wanted to, Anti could be in two places at once and constantly keeping up with the footage, but that could mess with his concentration if he was doing something more difficult at the same time. So he had to constantly rewind the footage whenever he had a spare moment.

With a twitch, the live feed shown on the monitors froze, and began rewinding. Sam flew off his shoulder and began hovering next to his head, nerve-tail flicking anxiously. “Oh look, the same sort of shit is happening,” Anti muttered with a glance at them. A few minutes passed, and Anti grew impatient, speeding up the film more. “I don’t know what you’re so—”

Wait. Something was different.

Anti paused the footage. He’d gone too far past…whatever that was, so he fast-forwarded a bit and turned on the sound. He was looking at the footage from the living room camera. The timestamp read 7:02 p.m., and the doctor and the vigilante had already left for their nightly occupations. Chase was lying on the couch, and Anti flipped through the other cameras real quick to see Jameson in his room and Marvin in the library. Then he switched back to the living room.

He watched Jack enter the picture and say he was planning on going for a walk. Chase immediately attached himself to him, like he did. But Jack…was a bit more reluctant than he usually was on occasions like this. Anti leaned closer to the screen.

Jack grabbed the gun. Anti let the footage resume its normal speed and went totally silent as he watched Jack confront Chase. A grin split his face. “It ̛wo̴rk̨ed!” He laughed. “It actually worked!” He’d taken a bit of a risk, cleaning Jack’s neural passages of the false memories. There was a chance the spell could’ve snapped back against that and done some mild damage. But he was done with waiting and trying gentle persuasion. Clearly it wasn’t getting him anywhere. So, he felt the risk was probably worth it. And to fight against any possible side effects, he planned for the dream to happen the night before the spell was about to be renewed, when it would be at its weakest.

But things went south quickly. The hero and the doctor came home, even though they’d barely left, and Jack panicked and ran. He saw Jameson upstairs and took the only available option: downstairs. “Jack, what are you doing?!” Anti leaned forward further, actually putting his hands on the screen, his palms fizzing with glitches, almost going into the screen. “He’s not that hard to get past! Just shove him away!” Well, it wasn’t like Jack knew that. And he’d just woken up from a two-year long spell, his brain was likely scrambled, not to mention probably freaked out by seeing the guy who was behind it.

But going into the basement? That was really the worst choice, as it was a dead end without even windows to climb out of. Anti switched to the camera he’d put in the basement hallway, watching Jack run into the first room to the right and slam the door behind him. The others were right on his heels. They talked among themselves for a little bit, and then Marvin came out of the library and demanded to know what was going on, and then Jackie explained to him in the most annoyed, anger-filled tone possible, and then those two shouted for a bit. Everyone suddenly went silent, though, and looked over at Jameson, listening to whatever mental words he had to say.

Anti glared at his image on the screen. God, he wished there was some way to pick up on those projections. Sadly, he couldn’t intercept them through the cameras, especially not on past footage. But he could figure out what was happening well enough. He watched Jackie try and fail to appeal to Jack, then try to force the door open. After it failed to budge, Chase helped him pull it open enough for Jameson to slip inside.

He switched to the camera in the room. It was obvious that Jameson was putting on an illusion for Jack. Luckily, cameras couldn’t be fooled by mind tricks, and neither could Anti, if he’d been there in person. “Don’t you fucking ḑar̨e̡ let him inside,” Anti growled. “Don’t do it. Keep your eyes open.” He was so close to the screen, particles from his body were constantly flowing between him and the pixels on the monitor.

For a moment, it looked like Jameson WAS winning. Anti was getting ready to scream, only for Jack to suddenly snap out of it and fire the gun. Everyone burst into the room at that, Chase latched onto Jack while Marvin and Jackie went to help Jameson, who—Anti threw his head back and laughed. “You lucky little Irishman, you actually hit the watch!” The best place to hit. Jameson would be out of commission until that talisman could be repaired.

Jack was still stuck in the house, however. After a while, the others ended up leaving him in that room, locking it behind them as they left. They all went upstairs to the living room. Anti turned up the sound to listen closely to their conversation.

“It will last until morning,” the doctor was saying. “But I must admit, I do not know what to do once that time comes around.”

“I mean.” Jackie was playing with his hair. “We could just…let him go.”

“Yes, good idea,” Marvin drawled. “Let the one guy who now knows about every-fucking-thing we did go out into the world still armed with this information. We’re gonna have the police and maybe even the magic police in here in no time, and the wards aren’t built to withstand a concentrated assault, just keep this place hidden.”

“Well, maybe you should’ve made wards that could do that, then,” Jackie snapped. “Look. This whole thing was a shitty thing to do. And now we have a chance to un-do it. If you’re so worried about him giving away secrets, then find some way to make him forget them, or be unable to tell them, I’m sure you have spells to do that. Still be pretty bad, but at least he wouldn’t be stuck here, like we kidnapped him, which, I’ll remind you, WE TECHNICALLY DID.”

“And?” Marvin demanded. “Then what? We now know spells like that can break. And once they do, even if he doesn’t tell anyone, he’s still going to disappear and we’ll never see him again.”

“Wow. Didn’t know you CARED so much about not seeing Jack again.”

“I—shut the fuck up, I don’t. But—but Chase does! We should probably ask him about this.”

At this, everyone looked at Chase, who was standing in the corner of the room with his arms folded, unusually quiet. And he stayed that way, looking away from the others, for quite a while. Until eventually he opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again and said, “…we can’t—can’t undo this, Jackie. We have to…keep going.”

Jackie’s voice softened. “Chase, I know how you feel about him. But you want him to be happy, right? Did he SOUND happy back there?”

Chase didn’t say anything for a moment. “…he just…he can’t leave. Like everyone else does. I-I-I know that there’s…there’s still something there. We’re still friends. I just…need to remind him. I can do it.”

“Chase, are we not your friends?” the doctor asked.

“I didn’t say that. But…it-it’s not the same thing. I don’t know how…just it is. And I can…I can convince him that it’s still the same.”

Silence. Jackie sighed. “Alright. Fine. If that’s what you think. I still stand by what I say, but I’ll drop it for now. For now. I claim the right to try and talk you out of this later.” He looked around. “Now what?”

Marvin glanced at Jameson. “Well, we gotta find some way to fix…that whole situation.”

“I trust you two can do that,” the doctor said. “But Chase, in the meantime, I must remind you about the other one. Maybe you would like to talk to her?”

The other one?

Anti paused the footage, separating himself from the screen. Sam, previously hovering, landed on his shoulder. No. He couldn’t have. Quickly, he rewound the footage once more, to back before the incident with Jack, staring intently at the screen. People came and went, travelling throughout the house. Until, about 4:00 according to the timestamp, when Jameson and Chase entered the house through the front door, accompanied by a woman with curly shoulder-length blonde hair.

“Yo̸u a̴b̨soluţe͡ ̵ba̕sta҉r͝d͢!” Anti screamed. He banged his fist against the screen so hard it partially sank into it, becoming part energy. “I can’t believe I thought you wouldn’t stoop to that! The bar was so low, and you still didn’t manage to jump over it!”

He stepped back, spinning on his heel and dissolving into pixels, reforming in a new room. He’d barely set this up the night before last, all the equipment and screens were still shiny and new. Still just as easy to tap into, though. He blinked, and the screens flickered to life, showing the feed from the new security cameras he’d set up around Stacy’s neighborhood. He began rewinding, back to about 4:00 yesterday. And there they were. Chase and the fucking hypnotist, strolling down the street while he’d been too busy running around, making sure that the city was prepared for the next night of vigilantes, magicians, hypnotists, and underground doctors.

He switched to the next camera. Chase and Jameson were knocking on the door to Stacy’s house. He saw a flicker in the window, but there was no answer otherwise. That didn’t stop Chase and Jameson from fiddling with the doorknob, eventually getting it open. Because of course one of them knew how to pick locks, maybe even both of them, he wouldn’t be surprised. They went into the house and closed the door behind him. A few moments passed. Something hit the window with a thump, but otherwise it was silent. Until a minute later, when the two of them walked back out with Stacy in tow.

Anti growled, the sound coming out laced with a crackle that sounded almost like static. “Sam, we need to see what happened in there,” he said, glancing down at the eye still on his shoulder. “Hold on.” One glitch later, and the hub went dark the moment its source of power had left.

He materialized in Stacy’s living room, shaking off the effects of using the TV as the source he’d connected to. Everything in here looked pretty okay. The only thing odd was that a book was lying on the back of the couch, open. As if it had been thrown at something but missed and hit the window, landing on the couch once it bounced off. Anti frowned, glitching into the dining room.

“Trev, look! He’s back!”

Ah yes. The kids. Both of them were sitting at the table, coloring books and markers spread out before him, eyes wide as they stared at Anti’s sudden appearance. Sam perked up, flying over and landing on top of the daughter’s head, who giggled. “Oh, it’s you two,” Anti said. “I’m looking for your mother. Where is she?”

The son shrugged. “I dunno. She left.”

“Really? What happened?”

“I dunno.”

“Trev’s just upset because Dad was here yesterday and not today,” the daughter said.

“Hm.” Anti tried his best to not scowl. Apparently, according to Stacy, it upset kids to see adults angry. He had no idea how accurate that was, he didn’t have any experience with being a kid. “Why was he here?”

“Okay, so, we were in the living room,” the daughter started, “doin’ homework. And suddenly he knocked on the door, and I know Dad’s voice even though it’s been a long time, and he said he wanted to talk to Mom. She looked out the window and then ducked, and she told us to go into the other room, and we didn’ want to because we wanted to see Dad, but she said she’d take away our dessert priv’l’jes so we did, but we stayed to listen. And we heard the door open, and Mom was yelling, and Dad was talking, and Dad said he just wanted her to listen and he didn’ want to do this, but I dunno what ‘this’ was. And Mom threw a book, and she yelled ‘get out of my head!’ and I dunno what that means, and then she yelled ‘get away from me!’ But then she went really quiet, and Dad talked more but it was too quiet, and then they both left.”

“You didn’t talk to your Dad?” Anti asked.

The son spoke up. “Nah. He said something like ‘what about the kids’ and then he said ‘there’s always time’ and then he said ‘fine but I’m coming to see them tonight’ and then he said ‘fine, tomorrow’ and then he left.” He looked down at the table surface. “I dunno why he didn’ say hi.”

“Maybe he was in a hurry,” Anti said absentmindedly. “Maybe there was an emergency he needed your mother for.”

“But he couldn’ say hi? And he said he would be back tomorrow, and today is tomorrow! Why isn’ he here?”

“Maybe something came up. Don’t ask me, I don’t know anything about your father.” The last statement came out a little bitter. “Do you kids need to, like, eat?”

“It’s not dinnertime yet,” the daughter said. “But we’re hungry. Yesterday we ate all the cereal when Mom didn’t come back before dinnertime. And we stayed up late. I’m tired. Will Mom be back today?”

“I don’t know,” Anti shrugged. “Maybe tonight. Do you know how to make food? Like, sandwiches or something?”

“Do you?” the son asked, glaring.

“No.”

The son was surprised by that. “But…you’re a grown-up. Grown-ups make food.”

“They do if they need to. I’ve never needed to.” Anti glared across the dining room into the adjoined kitchen. “I guess you could scavenge or some shit like that, like you did yesterday.”

“You said a bad word!” The daughter gasped.

“I know.” He kept glaring at the kitchen. “I bet if you use the stools you can reach the upper cabinets if you need to.” Something poked the back of his head and he turned around to see Sam, hovering really close to him. “What?”

Sam zoomed back to the kids and circled around them, giving Anti a happy look.

“You want to stay with them?” Anti asked. When Sam bobbed yes, he shrugged. “Fine. For tonight only. I’ll be back soon. You kids, take a nap or something. Sam, can you keep them safe?” Sam bobbed again. “Alright. See you again later.” And Anti glitched away.

An instant later, he was back in the hub. The first thing he did was grab his knife from nowhere and throw it at the nearest monitor, where it landed deep in the screen with a shattering crash. “You know, ͡Br̨o͠dy, for someon͏e wh͟o͏ claims to love͏ the kids so much, you sure did ͏l͏eave͏ them without a҉n͏yone to ͟ta̧k̸ȩ c̷are̶ ̷of them!” He shouted to nothing. “What, did your curren̨t ̛ob̸s̢ess̢io͝ns͢ get in the way of ͏your ob̧se҉ss̶ion͢ ͡wi͟th̶ t̕he̢m?” After a moment of silence, he laughed. “Oh, that’s probably e͏x͢ac͝t̴ly what happened! Spent all yesterday talking with your wife, then the thing with Jack happened, and now you’re so concentrated on those two that you forgot about your kids, t̢he ̧t̛i̧ny͏ ̨hum̕an͞s wh̨o̷ de͟pęn͞d ͞on̨ ̢y͞o̢u. Gods, Brody. No wonder the government found you guilty of neglect and took them away.”

He stared at the screen he’d flung the knife into, which was now flickering wildly with colors and broken pixels. With a thought, he shut off the power to it and it went dark. His head swung over to another monitor, and he switched on the live feed from the house. Just in time to catch Marvin and Jameson leaving, off to find a way to repair the watch. A quick flash through the other cameras revealed that the hero and the doctor were still home, in the kitchen, Chase was pacing through the upper floor hallway, clearly nervous, and Jack was still locked in the room from yesterday. He looked…angry, but the sort of angry that you become when you’re too scared to even let it show how afraid you were. Another quick glance through the cameras showed Stacy was in the basement too, in another room. She just looked scared, sitting on the bed in the room with her knees pulled to her chest. A quick rewind showed there hadn’t been much harm done to her outside of a brief talk with her ex.

If he just waited until 7:00, the other two would leave, and it would just be Chase there. They still hadn’t upgraded the wards against him. Or at least, not enough. They kept underestimating how easy it was for him to break through them.

He looked back at the broken screen. He had a reflection in it. It was…odd to see. Being solid was not his default state, so it always threw him off guard to see reflections and shadows. His unblinking eye didn’t look away from the reflection as he unwrapped the scarf from around his neck, letting it drop to the floor. Next came the bloodstained bandages, also dropped.

And then there was the eye-patch. The one he’d never gone without, the one he hadn’t willingly taken off in…it must be over ninety years now. He reached up and slowly undid the knotted straps holding it in place. The patch was pulled off, held for a moment more, then fell unceremoniously to the ground.

A bright green light flared into being, accompanied by an almost electrical humming. And Anti smiled. “S̡̕ee҉ y͟͠ou̶͢ ̛ş̶o̵͟o͏n̸̕,̕ ̵̨͞C̛͢h͝aşe̵̷.”

The shadows stretched, every electronic in the hub went haywire, all lighting up with green. Reality bent until it broke, splinters of pixels crashing against each other in a cacophony of glitches.

And then it was over. All that was left was a faint red glow…and the shadow of a laughing grin.



Part Twenty-Five 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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Calling a second meeting was easy. Chase simply texted Marvin—still waiting at his house—to start another video call with Jackie and Jack in the hospital, with the explanation that they needed to talk about this in person. By the time they arrived back at Chase’s house, everything was up again. Though there had been a slight detour on the way back, as they had to drop Newson off at her house. Laurens had offered to let her join in the meeting, but Newson declined. She said, “I think my part in this adventure is done,” but really Chase thought she didn’t feel welcomed. Which was fair. Marvin would have chewed her out the moment he saw her.

Which left Chase, Laurens, and Mina. Chase parked his car on the street and the three of them headed inside the house. Marvin was waiting, pacing back and forth across the living room. The moment the front door opened, he spun around and said, “What happened?! Why were you gone so long?!”

Chase didn’t answer immediately. He glanced around his living room, finding it unchanged. Because of course it was. Nothing major happened in the time they were gone. But that phone call had really put him on edge. He walked over to the coffee table, checking the laptop. “Hey guys,” he said, waving at the screen.

“Hey Chase. Um, is everything alright?” Jackie asked. “You look…worried.” Jack nodded in agreement.

“I—I mean, yeah? I guess I am,” Chase muttered.

“What happened?” Marvin repeated, now directing this question specifically at Chase. When he didn’t get an immediate response, he turned to Mina and Laurens. “Well? Was your idea right?”

Mina closed the front door with a soft click. She didn’t say anything, looking shaken. So Laurens answered, “Well, yes. But also…something more.”

Chase sat down heavily on the sofa. “We…we found them.”

“What?!” The video call was momentarily overcome by motion blur as Jackie dropped the iPad on their end. “Shit. Sorry! Jack, can you—yeah. Thanks.” The video steadied. Jackie and Jack were a bit closer to the screen now, listening intently.

“I—you—how?” Marvin stammered. “I thought you were just going to talk to that doctor lady and check out a building or something.”

Mina and Laurens rejoined the group. Laurens sat down in a chair, but Mina continued standing, her face drawn and worried.

“Yeah, they…I think they’re there. In that building,” Chase said slowly. “Or at least, Anti is.”

There was a moment of silence as everyone processed this fact. Then Marvin said, “Well, what are we waiting for?! We said we were gonna call the police, right?! Let’s call them!”

“N-no, I…I don’t think we can,” Chase said quietly.

Marvin paused, taken aback by the unexpected response. “Um…what?”

Chase quickly explained what happened. How they talked with Newson, then realized the possible connection between Anti’s symbol and the ‘graffiti’ her brother used to complain about. How they checked out the apartment building he lived in before his death at Anti’s hands and found the symbol right there. And finally, how Chase almost called the police, but was stopped by a call from an unknown number that turned out to be Anti himself.

“He said he…would hurt them if we called them,” Chase finished, his voice quiet. “I…we can’t let that happen.”

Another moment of silence. This time, Jackie broke it. “He could have been bluffing. I mean, I don’t think he’d really want to hurt Jameson…like, physically.”

Marvin nodded. “Yeah, and besides, how will he know if we call the police? He’s not gonna know they’re coming for him until they’re outside the building, and by then it’ll be too late.”

“They are on the third floor,” Mina said. “That is long enough for him to see them outside and follow through on what he threatened. Especially since he has a camera in the stairs.”

“But what’s the point in hurting them at that point?” Marvin argued. “He might as well use that time to try and get out of there.”

“There would be enough time to see them coming, I don’t know if it’d be long enough to get away entirely,” Chase said. “And by then, he might just decide to…do it anyway. To prove a point. I mean…” He looked at the laptop. “Jackie. You remember what happened with you, right?”

Jackie nodded slowly, reaching up to rub his upper arm. The ‘WARNING’ cut into his skin had almost healed by now, but it was certainly going to leave a scar.

Marvin fell silent. Then he let out a frustrated grunt. “Well we can’t just leave them there! We know where they are! We’re so close!”

“I don’t like it either!” Chase burst out. “But I don’t want to get them killed or worse by trying to help! We don’t even know if they’re in there or if it’s just another hideout for him! That camera in the stairwell could be streaming to any location, maybe he’s not even there and when he sees the cops coming he doesn’t even have to try and escape! We—we can’t risk it!”

“I know, I know, but being stuck there isn’t any better for them!” Marvin countered. “If he’s willing to—to fucking punish you by hurting them, then who knows what he’s doing to them on his own!”

Chase stared at Marvin. Marvin stared right back. Neither said anything, knowing the other was right. Then, after a moment, Laurens cleared her throat. “Um…well, do you remember what you said when you brought up this investigation idea to me?”

Marvin looked at her. “Actually, no. What?”

“You said something like, we’re not going to break into anywhere,” Laurens said. “I mean…maybe you…reconsider that?”

Jackie burst out laughing. “Oh my god, Rya! I had no idea you were such a rebel!”

“W-w-well I mean—it’s not a good idea,” she stammered. “I’m just trying to say there has to be something else we can do.”

Chase nodded, slowly at first, then gaining speed. “Right. Right. I—heh, I mean, the whole reason we started investigating was because we wanted to finally do something. We can’t give up now.”

“Of course!” Marvin smacked his hand with his fist. “His only condition was us calling the police! What if we do it ourselves?”

Jackie abruptly stopped laughing. “Are you guys serious?”

“Wait, yeah, I-I didn’t mean it literally,” Laurens said. “I just meant—I wanted to be inspiring, you know? I didn’t mean we should actually try and get them out.”

“And why not?” Marvin asked. “We can’t let them stay there, but we can’t call the police. It’s the perfect solution!”

“I agree with Marvin,” Mina said. “We will get nowhere without some drastic action.” She pressed a hand to her side, where her wallet full of photos was hidden in her pocket.

“…Marvin.” Jackie pressed his lips together. “In case you haven’t noticed, I am in the hospital. I am here because I decided to search for Schneep on my own, found him, and then proceeded to get fucking kidnapped. Anti is DANGEROUS.”

“I know. And I-I don’t mean to…undermine what you went through,” Marvin said softly. “But he’s still just one guy, right? There’s six of us—well, you two are in the hospital, but we still outnumber him four to one.”

“I…you’re not WRONG, but…” Jackie shifted uncomfortably.

“I…” Jack spoke up for the first time. His voice cracked, so he stopped, then started again. “I think…you sh-should…do it. We h-have to…to…finisshh this.”

Chase took a deep breath. “Jack is right. This keeps going on and on and on. Anti kidnaps someone, we get someone back. Anti kidnaps someone, we get them back. We’re going in fucking circles, and we have to break out of it. The only way to do that—or, the only way that ends up good for everyone—is to get everyone away from him. A-and if we can’t call the police…we have to find some other way to do that. I know it’s dangerous, but…I think it’s worth it.”

After a moment, Jackie sighed. “I guess you’re right,” he said slowly. “I can’t…I can’t stand to think of what Hen is going through, stuck there again. And Jameson, too. Just because Anti likes him doesn’t mean he’s having a good time. I know that.”

Laurens reluctantly nodded. “Well…if we’re safe about it, a-and if we call the police right after we’re sure they’re safe, then…I guess it’ll be fine.”

Marvin nodded. “Okay. Good. Glad we’re doing this.” He paused. “Now we just need to figure out how we’re doing this.”

“To start, we need to know what flat it is,” Mina said. “We know it is third floor, but not the number. We cannot rescue them if we do not know where they are.”

“Or if they’re even there,” Chase muttered. “But how do we find that out? I mean, Anti has at least one camera in that building. And he knows all of us. Even you, Mina. So we can’t exactly scout out the area without him knowing something’s up.”

“Maybe we ask that…Newson lady again?” Marvin’s expression was sour at the thought of it, but he offered the suggestion up anyway.

“I guess we can try, but I doubt it’ll work,” Laurens said. “We were lucky she remembered that one random detail about the building. I don’t think she’ll have any clue which apartment Anti would be in.” She paused. “Though…maybe I could ask someone else for help.”
.............................................................................................

Someone was knocking at the door. This had never happened before. Or if it had, it hadn’t happened during the moments Jameson was out of the bedroom. The someone at the door was very persistent, knocking every thirty seconds or so. Jameson kept staring towards it, eyes locked on the old wood of the door. He wanted so badly to run towards the door, throw it open, and beg for help from whoever was on the other side. There was just one thing stopping him.

The moment the knocking had started, Anti had run from the kitchen into the living room where Jameson was. In seconds, he’d grabbed Jameson’s arm in a vice-like grip, hissing, “Don’t you dare say anything.” In his other hand, he held a knife—not a kitchen knife, but not a pocket knife either. This one looked somewhat…professional, if that was the right word. Six inches long and sharp on both sides.

Jameson didn’t think Anti would stab him. But he wasn’t so sure about Anti stabbing Schneep. He could very clearly picture the sequence of events in his mind. Jameson screamed for help, Anti hurried to open the door and persuaded the stranger that everything was fine, perhaps saying that his younger brother had some sort of disorder—that sounded like an excuse that would come from his shitty attitude. Once the stranger was satisfied, Anti would lock the door again, head to the bedroom, and—

He didn’t want that to happen. So, for now, the two of them were sitting on the apartment’s sofa, with Anti holding Jameson’s arm tight enough to hurt. The knocking had gone on for a solid two minutes, and Anti kept getting more annoyed. “Persistent fucker,” he muttered.

Jameson glanced at him, then down at the knife. He wouldn’t kill some random person who came to the door, would he? No, that didn’t seem like a smart idea. Even with Anti’s temper, everything he did was ultimately calculated.

There was another series of knocking, and Anti suddenly shot to his feet. “Stay,” he ordered, and headed over to the door, holding the knife behind his back. He took out a key from his pocket, unlocked the door, and…opened it.

For a moment, Jameson wanted to run. It was agony to just sit there when he could make a break for it. But it wasn’t safe. Not for him, and not for Schneep.

The window of opportunity didn’t last long enough, anyway. Anti opened the door, briefly glanced over the man who was standing there, then snapped, “Fuck off already!” and slammed the door again, locking it immediately after.

Jameson slumped. He’d tried to catch the visitor’s eye, but the man had only looked at him for a split second right before the door slammed again. Not enough time to get a silent message across.

Anti waited, standing at the door. But there wasn’t any more knocking. He let out a breath of relief, then turned back to look at Jameson. “You actually didn’t move?” he said, surprised.

Jameson didn’t say anything back. He kept looking at him, hoping that he was conveying the appropriate answer of 'You have a knife and a hostage and are much stronger than me, what the fuck did you think would happen?'

Anti laughed. The sound was surprisingly lighthearted. “Thanks,” he said, his voice softer. “Hey. What about having dessert tonight? For your friend, too.”

Was that a bribe? No. Wait. It was a reward. For doing the ‘good’ thing. Jameson balls his fists, bundling up the fabric of his pants. Still, he nodded. Once. Had to choose which battles to pick, and all that.

“Great.” Anti brightened. “Why don’t you go tell him?” Then he turned and headed back into the kitchen.

As he passed, Jameson glanced down, remembering which pocket he put the front door key in and trying to seal it in his memory. Choose which battles. He had to save his energy for the definitive one, his opportunity to get himself and Schneep out of there once and for all. Anti always put the key in the same pocket. Maybe that could be useful.

Later. This wasn’t that battle.
.............................................................................................

Later that night, Laurens was sitting at home, trying to relax with a book, when her phone started to ring. Immediately she lunged across the sofa and scooped it up from the end table. “Hello?”

“Hey doc, it’s me.” The voice on the other end belonged to Oliver. “I just got back from checking out those flats you told me to.”

“Oh good.” Laurens didn’t dare relax. “Did everything go okay? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he assured her. “And, more importantly, I saw that guy you were looking for.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Scars all over the left side of his face, one green eye that looked kinda fake. Hard to mistake him for anyone else. Even if I did only see him for, like, a second. He was in flat 309. I think the window had brown shutters.”

“And you’re okay?” Laurens asked again.

“Rya, I’m fine,” Oliver said seriously. “I know you said this was supposed to be dangerous, but nothing happened. I didn’t say anything to him, I doubt he even paid attention to what I looked like. Although…”

Laurens inhaled sharply. “‘Although’ what?”

“Well, there was one thing that happened. The flat door was only open for a second, like I said, but I think I saw some other guy inside. He looked a lot like…like Schneep.” Oliver paused. “I know you said to just trust you, and that this was to help find Schneep, but I gotta ask…are you trying to find him?”

Laurens paused. “Yeah,” she admitted, then hurriedly added, “But don’t call the police! I don’t want to distract them with things until we’re sure.”

“Alright, alright,” Oliver conceded. “Is there anything else I can do to help? I’m worried about the guy.”

“Thanks for the offer, Oliver, but—”

“Yeah, I know. It’s dangerous, and the less I know the better,” Oliver said, repeating the very thing she’d told him when first asking him for this favor. “But I’ll be on standby. Just call me, okay?”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks so much, Oliver.”

“No problem. Again, call me whenever.”

The call ended, and Laurens was immediately dialing another number. She had to tell the others they figured it out.
.............................................................................................

Unfortunately, Jackie and Jack couldn’t make it this time. By the time the others were able to meet up that night—at Chase’s house for a third time—visiting hours at the hospital were over, and that apparently included video calls. Chase suggested they wait until tomorrow, but Marvin insisted they at least figure out a plan right now.

“Do I need to offer you guys, like, tea or something?” Chase said, looking around at the three others in his living room. “Since you keep showing up. Seems polite.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Laurens said. Mina nodded. Marvin didn’t say anything, but he kept bouncing his leg while sitting, so clearly he was anxious to get on with it.

“Right. Okay then.” Chase cleared his throat. “So, doc. That guy you called managed to find them?”

“Oliver,” Marvin recalled. “I ran into him once. Good guy.”

“Are they in that building?” Mina asked, anxiously playing with the zipper on her jacket.

“Yeah. Room 309,” Laurens said. “A-Anti opened the door.”

“Is Oliver…okay?” Chase asked. “Did Anti think he was suspicious?”

“I don’t think so. Apparently he just opened the door long enough to tell him to go away. But, uh, Oliver did manage to catch a glimpse inside in that time, and he…he’s pretty sure he saw someone else in there. Someone who looked like Schneep.” Laurens goes quiet.

“That can be either of them,” Marvin said. “They look surprisingly alike. So at the very least, one of them is there now. JJ or Schneep.” He lets out a breath. “Okay. We gotta move quick, what if—what if he moves them?”

“I don’t think he’d do that,” Laurens said doubtfully.

“Still, just in case!”

“Marvin is right,” Mina jumped in. “We know what is happening now, we do not know what will happen in two days. Though, I will say, we should not move right in. If this Anti is as dangerous as everyone is saying—and I do not doubt he is—we would be out of our class in a fight.”

“We don’t have to fight,” Marvin pointed out. “I want to fucking kill Anti, but even if I could take him, we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves. I also don’t want to go to jail for…I don’t know, whatever. Can they put you in jail for a beating? I feel like they can.”

“I think so?” Laurens said. “But that’s not really important right now. Do we need…do we need weapons?” She asked that last part in a hush.

Chase hesitated for a moment. “I…if we’re looking for something in case of a fight, I think I have something that can help. Wait a minute.” He turned around and disappeared down the hallway before anyone could ask him what he meant.

“Okay, so he’s getting that,” Marvin said. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to walk up to the apartment and try to get in while Anti’s still in there. Those things aren’t exactly big, we’d DEFINITELY run into him.”

“So we need to get him out,” Mina said. “How do we do that?”

At that moment, Chase returned. He was now holding a black rectangular box made of metal. A safe box. Setting it down on the coffee table, he looked at the others nervously. “Okay, so…promise you won’t say anything?”

“What do you mean?” Marvin asked.

“I…nevermind. I’ll just show you.” Chase was also holding a small key. He slid it into the safe box’s lock and twisted it. For a second, he paused, taking a deep breath. Then he opened the box and turned it around so the others could see inside.

If he was hoping for a discreet reaction, he didn’t get it. Marvin immediately jumped to his feet and shouted, “Why the fuck do you have a gun?!”

“Marvin, shh!” Chase hushed him. “You’re loud, the neighbors could probably hear you.”

“What the fuck?” Mina gasped. “I thought that was illegal here! Did they change the laws?”

“No, they didn’t.” Laurens glanced up at Chase. “How…how’d you get that? And why?”

“Oh my god, next thing you know, you’re gonna say you bought it from the boutique.” Marvin rubbed the sides of his head like a headache was beginning to form. “Chase, I swear to god, if you knew that place was a smuggling front before I did and you said nothing—”

“No no no, I didn’t know about that,” Chase hurried to say. “I—I do have a license, you know. Haven’t used it in a couple years, and it’s probably only valid in the US—”

“American,” Mina muttered.

“—but it’s totally legal. I got the gun on a trip there, too, a bit before the kids were born. I—I got scared for a while there,” Chase said. “That something might happen to them, like, someone could break in or something. I realized pretty soon that owning a gun in this country would probably cause more trouble than it was worth, but not soon enough, because I was already back here and I didn’t want to risk getting it through the airport again and—i-it was a whole mess. So it’s just been…locked in a box.”

Though Marvin and Mina seemed to accept this explanation—more or less—Laurens stared at Chase, the gears working in her mind. Chase avoided looking at her. This wasn’t the time to talk about it. After a while, Laurens also came to that conclusion, and said nothing.

“Well I guess that’ll be a great line of defense!” Marvin said, throwing his hands in the air. “Now it’s even more important that nobody calls the police! Chase, I swear to god, you better get rid of this afterward.”

“Y-yeah, I was planning on doing that for a while,” Chase said. “I just…don’t know how.”

“Drop it off in a bag somewhere and call the police anonymously,” Mina suggested, half-jokingly.

“Do you think we could get Anti out of the apartment if we threaten to shoot him?” Marvin asked.

“No, that wouldn’t work,” Laurens answered immediately. “He’d probably shout something like ‘oh my god this guy has a gun!’ and we’d have to deal with that.”

“We need to keep it secret,” Mina said. “Only take it out if we need to fight Anti.”

“Okay. Yeah. Um.” Chase closed the safe box lid again, making sure the lock clicked. “Let’s put that away for now, a-and sit down and actually figure this out. We have to get to business.”

They discussed plans of action for two hours, throwing around ideas trying to get one that was guaranteed success. Ultimately, they couldn’t come up with a guarantee, but they had an idea that was pretty good. It still made Chase nervous to think about, though. Still, it was their best shot. And they couldn’t wait much longer. As Marvin pointed out, Anti could move JJ and Schneep somewhere else at any moment.

In the end, they decided to talk the plan over with Jackie and Jack tomorrow, early in the morning. The two of them could help refine it. Then, immediately after that, they’d go over to the apartment building and…actually attempt a rescue. It was insane to think about. But it didn’t feel like they had any other options. So tomorrow it would be. Tomorrow, they would get their friends back.



Part Ten of the Switch AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of an ongoing fic series I started in April 2019. While Jackie is still missing, JJ takes it upon himself to make sure everyone is doing alright. Though perhaps he's taken on more than he can handle...]
.............................................................................................

The alarm went off at eight o’clock am. The beeping had been ramped up in volume, something that Jameson suddenly very much regretted. He also regretted that he’d set his alarm clock on his bookshelf across the room, instead of the nightstand right next to him. He groaned and rolled over, briefly considering throwing a magic bolt at the clock to shut it up, but instead stood up and walked over to turn it off. He sighed. Well, he was awake now.

Normally, JJ was more of a morning person than a late waker. But he hadn’t been sleeping well lately. Last night, the last he’d glanced at the glowing digital numbers of the clock, it was 3:45 am. And he remembered waking up a couple times, too. He was probably nervous about what he had planned today.

Which reminded him. He needed to get ready. He went through the drawers and found a set of clothes for the day, then went downstairs. While heating up a cinnamon roll for breakfast, he jotted a note down for Marvin, explaining where he would be all day:

"Sorry, I won’t be around all day. I have that meeting with another magician at nine, that one I told you about a few days ago. Then I’m going to go visit a few people and study at the library. I have rehearsal starting at 4:30, you can come watch if you want. See you later! -JJ"

He hoped that would help. Marvin hated being out of the loop.

After that, it was a half hour to get ready, and another half hour to take the car and drive to the park, where he’d be meeting…someone. He wasn’t sure what they would look like. About two weeks ago, he’d reached out to the ABIM—the organization that functioned as a loose government for magicians. He didn’t know much about them, having only interacted with them maybe once or twice. But…well, things were starting to look bad. Jackie had been missing for six months. He hadn’t had any luck scrying for Jackie’s location, and there were no signs of Distorter to go off of, either. He hadn’t seen Anti in person in a few weeks, Schneep was being evasive as well, and Marvin…well, he wasn’t exactly talking about what was going on with him, but Jameson could hear him and his nightmares through the floorboards.

So of course, Jameson had to do something about this. He couldn’t just let everything fall apart. He had to make sure the others were alright, had to find some way to help fix everything. But at this point, he couldn’t do it on his own. Which is why he reached out to the ABIM, hoping other magicians would have some sort of advice. A week ago, they’d gotten back to him, saying they would send a representative out to talk.

Which was why he was in the park right now, walking around the perimeter of the small pond, looking for someone. The park was pretty empty at nine in the morning, on a cloudy weekday, so it was easy to see the only other person around. She spotted him at the same moment, waving him over to a bench sitting by the pond’s shore.

“So. You’re Mr. Jameson Jackson, then?” She asked, eyes scanning him as he approached.

“Yes. And who are you?” He scanned her in turn. She wasn’t too unusual, he supposed. Well, she stood out a bit because of her red hair and green eyes, a rare combination. But her jeans, T-shirt, and zip-up hoodie didn’t seem too magical to him.

“My name’s Aoife Kelley,” she said. “I’m part of the Magi, which is a subdivision of ABIM. How’re you doing?”

“I’m fine, I suppose. You?”

“Good. Here, let’s sit.” Aoife gestured to the wrought-iron bench. Once JJ sat down, she did as well. “Now, then. To business.” She muttered a few words, and reached forward. Her eyes flared golden yellow, and her hand disappeared, like she’d slid it into a pocket in the air. JJ jumped in alarm, then stared in fascination. He’d never seen a spell like this before. Aoife’s hand pulled back, suddenly holding a blue binder. She flipped it open. “I’m going to just ask you a few questions, see if we have your information right.”

JJ nodded. “Alright.”

“Your name’s Jameson Daniel Jackson. Male. British nationality, Caucasian race. Twenty-seven years old, birthday October 31st, 1990.”

“Yes, that’s all correct.”

“Elemental magic with an ice/water focus, as well as a lesser healing ability. You work as a stage magician?” Aoife raised an eyebrow at that last part.

“Yes.” JJ tried not to squirm. Ironically, he didn’t like being the center of attention. At least, not on such an… INDIVIDUAL level. “If you’re going to lecture me about the dangers of using magic on stage, I’ve already heard it from one of you. I’m being cautious.”

Aoife grinned. “Well, alright, if you’re sure.” She looked back at the file. “There’s no history of magic in your family, nor is there a history of mental illness in you or your bloodline.”

That last part was a bit odd. “Yes, that’s right.” JJ coughed awkwardly. “Are…can we get to the purpose of this meeting? I’d planned to meet up with someone else after this.”

“Oh. Yes, right.” Aoife flipped the binder close. “Sorry to keep you.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s not too pressing.” JJ shrugged. “I just…this is a…rather pressing situation I’m in, and I would really appreciate any advice you have on the matter.”

Aoife’s brows scrunched together. “Well, y’see. That’s the problem.”

Jameson felt his heart stop. “What do you mean?”

“This…creature, that you say is following you. That took one of your friends…” Aoife bit her lip. “We…don’t have any records of something like it.”

Jameson could only stare at her. “I’m sorry?”

“We don’t have any records of it.” She opened the binder again, pulling out a piece of paper. Jameson recognized it. It was a printed-out copy of the letter he’d sent to the ABIM online. Because surprisingly enough, the magical organization had an official website. Aoife scanned through the typed words. “It’s something that appears to be human, but with that head injury, it can’t be a living human. And its array of powers…being able to confuse people, sometimes directly control them, and otherwise make it so the mind doesn’t register it as existing…” She tucked the letter back in the binder. “…we don’t have anything like that in our files.”

“Tha—that’s impossible,” Jameson said softly. “You must have something in there. Maybe something buried deep—”

“Yeah, I checked all our records,” Aoife said firmly. “My permissions are pretty high-up, I have access to everything. And I couldn’t find anything like this. Oh sure, there are records of undead that fit the physical description, and some creatures with similar powers, but nothing that fits.” Aoife paused. “I have to ask…are you sure this thing is really out there?”

“Am I sure?” Jameson asked, incredulous. “Am I SURE?! He kidnapped one of my friends and poisoned another! Convinced one of them to walk out into moving traffic! My housemate has nightmares about him that wake him up screa—” Jameson took a deep breath, clenching his fists in an effort to calm down. “We’ve all seen it. Of course we’re sure.”

“Alright. Alright.” Aoife raised her hands, as if in surrender. “I believe you. But, well…some of the others don’t.”

“Some of the others?” Jameson repeated, eyes narrowing.

“Yes,” Aoife confirmed. “It’s a big group, and your request for aid got passed around a lot, looking for someone to help. Some of them think you’re making it up, some of them think you’re mistaken…a few of them think you’ve lost your marbles.” Suddenly the question about history of mental illness made more sense. “But the fact of the matter is, we just…we’ve never heard of anything like this before.”

“Why would I make it up?” Jameson asked quietly.

Aoife shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think you are. But not everyone does. If you could show some sort of proof, it would be helpful.”

“Oh, do you want me to take a picture of him, next time I see it?” JJ drawled. “In between the moments of me fighting for my friends’ lives and free wills?”

“I don’t know,” Aoife said quietly. She stood up, tucking the binder under her arm. “Look, I’m sorry, but until there’s some sort of evidence…we really can’t help you.”

Jameson shot to his feet as well. “Then why did you even agree to meet with me in the first place?”

“Well, it would be rude to just dismiss you in an email,” Aoife said calmly. “Impersonal, you know?” Her voice softened a bit. “Look, I want to help, but I can’t as long as we don’t know what this is. We just need something to show that this…what you’re saying it is. And if it is, then…well…” She pauses. “Then we’ve never seen anything like this before. And we’ll need time. And information.” She reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a small, rectangular piece of wood. She held it out to JJ, who took it silently. Looking down at it, he saw a phone number burned into the wood surface. “This is my personal cell, call me when you’ve…got something. Okay?” She waited for him to nod, then smiled. “Be seeing you.” And without another word, she left.

Jameson stared down at the wooden card, then tucked it into his pocket. He watched Aoife walk away, until she was out of the park and out of the sight. Then he turned, let out a cry of frustration, and kicked a rock out onto the surface of the pond. Where it landed, ripples turned the water a bright, glowing blue that slowly faded away.

He shook his head, making an effort to breathe slowly and deeply. If they’ve never heard of anything like Distorter before, it made sense that they needed proof. Just to make sure he wasn’t pranking them or anything. But god, was it frustrating. What was he supposed to do?! When and how was he supposed to get evidence that Distorter existed?! The gray man hadn’t been seen in months! Not to mention, part of him wondered how much help the other magicians could really be, if they’ve never seen anything like Distorter before. All that meant…all that meant was that they were dealing with a threat unlike anything before. Jameson shivered.

No, he’d…he’d figure it out. He had to. Maybe he could modify some of the mind protection spells he found, so they could ward a specific place? Maybe work them into some sort of offensive spell? Or he could put a little more effort into the tracking spells, if he just tried a little more he was sure he could find Jackie.

JJ headed out of the park and back towards his car. He’d planned to do the studying after he got all his visits for the day done, but his mind was already brewing. He could adjust the schedule a bit. Time to head to the library.
.............................................................................................

The clock read 9:34am, a fact which surprised Schneep when he looked at it.

Didn’t it say 12 just a few minutes ago? No, there had been a 3:40 in that interim somewhere. Or was it 6?

"You really should go to sleep."

Schneep shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Shut up.”

There was a figure hovering in the corner of his eyes. "You’re going to kill yourself before you get anything done."

You weren’t supposed to acknowledge it. Schneep knew this. But it was a little hard to ignore it when it looked like one of your friends. Still, he didn’t answer this time, instead backing up to get a full view of the map he’d taped up on the wall. He used to have this entirely digital, but he’d tried printing in all out on paper, see if that helped. The map was littered with push pins, strings tying together locations to newspaper articles he’d found and taped to the wall. He was aware this looked like a crazy conspiracy board, but it was sort of helping.

The figure hovered closer. It looked close enough to reach out and touch, peering over his shoulder. "Is it going to help? You look terrible. Is it really worth it?"

“Yes,” Schneep breathed, leaning on the back of the couch. “Yes, if I can find you. It’s worth it.”

There was a knock at the apartment’s door. Schneep jumped, trying to back up but somehow managing to fall over the back of the sofa instead. Who was at the door? Who came to see him? Was it him, the gray man, coming to finish the job?

Another knock. “Dude, I can and I will pick your lock, let me in.”

He knew that voice, he realized, standing up. But was that proof? What if it was someone pretending to be him?

Oh, too late, the handle was rattling. The door opened to reveal Anti, who entered and closed the door behind him. He looked around the apartment, whistling. “This place is bigger mess than the room of a nine-year-old who refuses to clean. What’s up, Volt?” He paused. “You look terrible.”

"I told you."

“Thank you,” Schneep muttered. “What are you doing here?”

“Um, I just…” Anti looked around the area again. “I was in the neighborhood. Why do you have a serial killer board up on your wall?”

“Shut up,” Schneep snapped. He put his hands on his hips and looked over the wall. “I am trying to figure things out. It is a new approach.”

“Uh-huh.” Anti’s eyes darted over the wall. “Figure what kind of things out?”

“You know what I mean! Anything, everything!” Schneep began pacing the length of his living area. On the edges of his vision, there was a shadow of a red hoodie, of big round glasses and brown hair. "Is it worth it? Is it going to work?" “It will work,” Schneep insisted. “I-I can find you.”

“Um…” Anti glanced around the apartment. “Who’re you talking to?”

Shit, no. Anti couldn’t know. Not now. Schneep really didn’t feel like being analyzed by Mr. Psychology-Is-My-Hobby. He whirled around, pointing at the wall. “I am keeping track of everything, everything odd in the last few years. Is very strange, you see? There are a high number of disappearances, and of accidents in the city. More so than in other cities.” He felt his eye twitching, a tiny pulse in his lid. He ignored it. “It is no wonder the police have been no help in finding him, they are useless at this!”

“Really?” Anti looked over the newspaper articles, taking in all the headlines. “You think maybe it’s…you know, all been him?”

“Possibly, possibly.”

"This isn’t going to work." The shadow was whispering in his ear. "You’re slowly dying over this, and it’s not worth it. Can you really find me? You haven’t had success so far."

Schneep waved in the direction of the shadow, as if trying to clear it. “Shut up.”

“I wasn’t saying anything,” Anti said, looking at him skeptically. “You…did you go to sleep last night?”

Apparently not. Or maybe the clocks were lying to him. Schneep almost sat down on the sofa, but he knew if he did that, he wouldn’t want to stand up and keep working. And that was the most important thing. Keep working. He had to succeed eventually. “Anti,” he said. “Can you do something?”

“Uh, depends on what it is.”

“Where have you been?” Schneep asked. “I have not seen you in, mmm, a couple of months now. Not outside of text.”

Anti shifted uncomfortably, rubbing his neck. “Well. Y’know. Been busy. Is…is that what you wanted me to do? Answer the question?”

What question? Wait, what? What was happening? Schneep shook his head. “No. I am sorry, I got distracted. I wanted to know if you could…I do not know, do something to keep me thinking.”

Anti took a step back. “Um, what?”

“Like one of those stories you like,” Schneep said. “Those spooky ones you tell. Tell one of those, I want to think about something else for a while.” The shadow stood beside him. “But I do not want to think of nothing.”

“Uh. Sure, I guess.” Anti flung himself down on the nearest armchair. “I can think of one you haven’t heard yet. You gonna sit down?”

“No.”

“Well, uh. Alright, then.” Anti bit his lip, thinking. “I could tell you the story about the house on Aspen Street.”

Schneep blinked. “I think you have mentioned that before. But I do not remember it.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve talked about it.” Anti flashed a grin. “But I always got stopped from talking about it, by Jackson and Jac—” He cut himself off. “Well, I can do it now.”

“Why would they stop you from talking about it?”

“I guess it could be kind of freaky. I mean, it starts with a true story.” Anti sat up straight. “Five years ago, we all turned on the evening news to a shocking story. A family of four had been found dead. Tragic enough in itself, but things start to become even bleaker once you heard the rest.”

Schneep sat down on the sofa. He gestured for Anti to continue.

Anti’s eyes lit up. “The house was 68 Aspen Street. For years, it had been home to a mother, a father, a son, and a daughter. It had been a happy place, a haven. But things started to crack and fall apart. The parents began arguing. About what, we don’t know. Maybe it was money, or bad habits, or the kids, or anything else that could drive two people apart. But drive them apart it did. And eventually the mother couldn’t handle it anymore. She took the kids and left, filing for divorce. It went through, of course, and the father was left alone in the house that had once been full of loved ones.”

“Now, the details of what happened next are hard to fudge out. We know that the kids visited their father on the weekends, and that they were the only people he saw regularly. The father was fired from his job, and had no luck finding anything new. The neighbors stopped seeing him, as he stayed in the house almost every day. He became a recluse who only really lived for his family. A family that was seeing him less and less.”

“One spring day, the kids and their mother disappeared. The police investigated the father, of course, but they found no evidence that he was involved in any way. Until a week later. A neighbor called the authorities, saying she heard gunshots. Four of them, to be precise. Three close together, and one a little bit after. It came from the house on Aspen Street. When the police arrived, they found the whole family. Dead. The father was still holding a handgun.”

Anti paused. “And from there? Well, stories like that tend to linger. Sad spirits refuse to leave. They say the house on Aspen Street is haunted by the family. People who live there tend to get in accidents. And those who get out before the accidents kill them, they always report hearing voices, having things move when they aren’t there…and seeing the figures of the family. Watching. Waiting.”

The apartment was silent. Then Schneep suddenly took a deep breath. “That is a…that is a very sad story,” he whispered.

“Yeah. It is.” Anti said nothing else. The events spoke for themselves.

“You are very good at scaring people, Anti, your voice can be quite…eerie,” Schneep said.

“Thanks.” Anti grinned. “Now. You should go to sleep.”

“Maybe I will. But not if you are here.” Schneep stood up, and pointed at the door. “So, out.”

“Okay, fine.” Anti started to leave, but paused just before reaching the door. He turned around. “Are…are you doing…?” He seemed to have trouble asking the question he really wanted to.

“I am fine,” Schneep insisted.

“You’re going to go to sleep now, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re…you feel…you’re…?”

“Yes, I am fine. Now leave.”

Anti seemed to hesitate, but he opened the door and left, closing it behind him.

Once he was gone, Schneep sighed. He turned to look back at the wall. Something about that story…something was niggling at his mind. He walked up to the map, grabbed a spare push pin, and pushed it into the paper, right at 68 Aspen Street.

"You really think this’ll help? It won’t."

“Shut up,” Schneep muttered. “You are not here now, Jackie. You are somewhere else. And I will find you, and bring you back. I…” He leaned his head against the wall. “I promise.”
.............................................................................................

JJ lost track of time in the library. He meant to only stay there until twelve, but when he next checked the time on his phone, it was 1:30. He immediately cleaned up, reshelving the books. He had to be sure to do it himself. After all, these weren’t normal books. They were spell books, hidden in part of the library’s reference section for any magician to use if they wished. Well, as long as the magician was registered with the ABIM, since they were the people who allowed someone to see through the concealing ward around the books.

He was…tired. He’d spent about of of his time practicing the spells he read about, hidden in a nook on the second floor of the library. And four and a half hours of consistent magic use was…draining. But it didn’t matter. He had more to do.

A short drive later, JJ parked in the driveway of a familiar house. He grabbed the tupperware container he’d had sitting in the car since he left that morning, climbed out, walked up to the threshold, and rang the doorbell. A short while later, the door was opened…by seemingly nobody. JJ looked down. “Oh. Hello, Michelle.”

“Hi Uncle JJ,” Michelle said. “Are you looking for Dad? He’s not here.”

“No, I-I know.” JJ tried to smile. It came out smaller than he intended. Of course Jackie wasn’t here. “I’m looking for your ren.”

“Oh. Okay.” Michelle darted back into the room, leaving the door open. “Ren! Uncle JJ is here! He wants to see you!”

JJ walked inside. The living room looked the same as ever. Except for the coat rack by the door. The white coat hanging from one of its hooks had a bit more dust.

Rama appeared from down the hallway. “Thanks for getting the door, Michelle,” they said, ruffling their daughter’s hair. Then they looked up at JJ. “Good to see you again, Jameson.”

“Good to see you too,” Jameson nodded. He showed off the tupperware container he was holding. “I made cake. Thought you’d want some.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Rama brushed a strand of their hair behind their ear. They hadn’t been wearing the red beanie they used to lately. “C’mon, let’s go in the kitchen.”

Jameson nodded. He shut the door behind him and followed Rama to the house’s kitchen. He set the container on the counter while Rama pulled open the silverware drawer and took out a couple forks. “Here,” they handed one to JJ.

“Oh, no, I mean thank you, but I-I already have some at home,” Jameson stammered. “This is for you.”

Rama nodded, putting one of the forks back. They peeled the lid off the tupperware and took out one of the slices inside, putting it on a plate already sitting on the counter. “So. Is this the part of the visit where you ask me how we’re doing?”

Jameson paused. “It can be.”

“Well…I guess we’re as okay as possible.” Rama plunged the fork into the cake slice. “Nothing much has changed since you last visited. Which I appreciate, by the way, you checking in.”

“It’s no problem.” Jameson smiled sadly.

Rama chuckled. There were dark bags under their dark eyes. “Does Michelle still say the same thing when she opens the door?”

“Yes,” Jameson said softly. ‘Are you looking for Dad? He’s not here.’ “How is she?”

“I don’t know.” Rama shook their head. “I’m worried about her, you know. The effect this could have on her, especially if…” They stop. They’d been toying with a part of the cake slice, and they finally put it in their mouth. They swallowed visibly. “The police aren’t giving us updates anymore. The last time they showed up, the detective lady said that, statistically, the longer someone is missing, the more likely it is that they’re…” They trailed off. Then they shook their head, a determined set to their face. “Jackieboy is a fighter. He’s always been tougher than people give him credit for, including himself.”

“He really is.” Jameson nodded in agreement. “People often mistake kindness for weakness. But he’s not weak at all.”

Rama looked…reassured by that. They looked down at their cake slice. “Did you know…that his birthday was last week?”

Jameson was silent for a moment. “..yes,” he whispered. July 10th.

Rama nodded, as if that’s all they wanted. “Well, thank you for the cake.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m sure you have much else to do today.”

He did, but that didn’t matter. “I can stay longer, if you want.”

“No, no, you go ahead,” Rama waved. “This has been nice, and…and thank you.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.” Jameson headed for the door. “Anything else you need?”

Rama smiled. “No. That’s enough.”

Jameson nodded, and without anything else, he left.

Once outside, he leaned back against the closed door and let out a long, long breath. It felt like there was something pressing down on his spine, making his head want to dip forward. Or maybe it was on his head itself. Or somewhere inside it. But he couldn’t let it happen. He had more to do. It was 1:52, he only had three and a half hours left before rehearsal. Plenty of time for his last visit, but maybe once that was done he could squeeze in another bout of studying. Maybe he could find some sort of spell that would lighten someone’s mood, if only for a little. Or a potion, that would be better. He could learn how potions work, if it could help them. He could do it. He could do it.

Jameson bit back a yawn as he got back in the car. It wouldn’t be too far a drive.

Fifteen minutes later, JJ was knocking on the door to Schneep’s apartment. There was no answer. He waited for another minute, then knocked again. He heard something fall over. “Um…Henrik? Are you doing okay in there?”

The door opened. Schneep was standing in the doorway, his hair wild, his shirt rumpled and with some sort of spill staining the blue material. He was wearing one of his electrical gloves, the ones that would shock someone upon contact, and judging by the wide-eyed look on his face, he was prepared to use it. But he relaxed a bit upon seeing Jameson. “Oh. Is you.”

“Yes, it’s me.” JJ tried to peer around Schneep into the apartment. “Can I come in?”

Schneep muttered something, but stood aside, letting Jameson enter.

JJ paused, taking in the map and pins on the wall. “That’s…new,” he said slowly.

“I am trying a new approach to finding things,” Schneep explained. “What are you doing here?”

Jameson spun to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“What are you doing here? Why are you here? What is your point?” Schneep pressed. “I am having many visitors today, first Anti, then you. What is it? Are you two having a plan?”

“Whoa, hang on, slow down.” JJ raised his hands. “I just wanted to check on you. I haven’t seen you in…in a while, now. I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“Well. I am doing fine, so you can go now.” Schneep turned his back to Jameson, walking up to the map. “Shut it.”

“I…I don’t think I said anything?” Jameson said, confused.

Schneep shook his head. “I know. Anyway, you can go now.”

Jameson stayed where he was. “Henrik…” His voice was soft. “Did you sleep…at all, recently?”

“What is with you people asking me that?!” Schneep suddenly yelled, pounding his fist against the wall. “I am fine!”

“That wasn’t my question.” Jameson approached Schneep, stopping within arm’s length. “You…you don’t look good.”

Schneep blinked idly. Dark circles, pale skin, a bit thin…it wasn’t a pretty picture. “Wie spät ist es?” He asked.

“I…I don’t know what you just said,” JJ confessed. “What is spät?”

“What time is it?” Schneep clarified.

Jameson looked at the wall-mounted clock. “It’s ten past two.”

Schneep’s eyes widened briefly, but then he covered it up. “I see.”

“Did you wake up early?” Jameson pressed. “Or…did you not go to sleep at all?”

“You also look like you did not sleep well, what does it matter?” Schneep’s eyes flicked to the side for a moment. “Nein.”

“We’re not talking about me right now, that doesn’t matter,” Jameson said dismissively. “Schneep, are you okay?”

His eyes flicked to the side again. “I am fine, you do not need to keep asking. Perhaps I am tired, but that is all. I have been drinking coffee, it is fine.”

“Of course you have,” Jameson muttered under his breath. “Henrik, you should really go to sleep. Take a nap.”

“I can’t.” Schneep looked at the map. “I am working on things.”

“They’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“You do not know that.”

That was…an odd reaction. “Of course I do.” JJ tried for a laugh. “Things don’t just disappear.”

Schneep didn’t answer, his eyes scanning the map while occasionally flickering to the side, as if he was seeing something move in his peripheral vision.

Jameson stepped forward and placed his hand on Schneep’s shoulder. “Henrik—”

Schneep suddenly screamed. He grabbed Jameson by the wrist, still wearing his electric glove. The shock it sent through Jameson’s body was enough to stun him, so he couldn’t react when Schneep then flipped him over. He landed on the ground with an oof-inducing thump, his head solidly hitting the back of the sofa. He slumped, dazed.

“Mein Gott, Jameson, I-I am sorry!” Schneep was still standing, hand covering his mouth. He pulled off the electric glove and threw it over to the desk, where it landed. “I-I did not mean—! I thought—Jackie—”

“Jackie…?” Jameson sat up, rubbing the back of his head. “What about Jackie?”

“I-I-I—” Schneep was shaking. “I thought he touched me! I thought it was mehr als ein Schatten! I—!”

“Henrik.” Jameson climbed to his feet, using the sofa as support. “Jackie’s not here.”

And Schneep suddenly started crying. “I know that! I know he is not here, but he is! A-and I do not want—! I do not want to stop seeing him!”

Jameson shook his head, bewildered. “Henrik, what are you talking about?”

Schneep buried his face in his hands. “I have been forgetting medication recently, it is making everything confusing!”

“You’re on medication? Hey, it’s okay.” Schneep had fallen to the floor, landing hard on his knees. Jameson knelt beside him. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll help. What’s wrong?”

Schneep grabbed Jameson’s arm. “I did not tell you,” he gasped in between tears. “I d-do not tell anyone. I told Marvin one time, I-I thought he would understand. I do not want anyone to thi-think the worst of me. I would never hurt anyone! Th-these things I see are not dangerous! He knows, the Distorter knows, he pokes fun at me, likes to make his illusions because he knows reality is alrea—sometimes I cannot tell—!”

“Hey, calm down, take deep breaths. I’ll do it with you. In for four…hold for seven…out for eight…in…hold…out…in…hold…out…” It took a few minutes for Schneep to get calm. Once he was fine, Jameson asked, “So…you take some kind of medication?”

Schneep nodded.

“And without it, you see things?”

Another nod.

“And you’ve been forgetting it, so you’re seeing Jackie?”

And another.

“Alright. I understand now.” Jameson nodded. “Henrik…there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I know,” Schneep whispered. “But I am worried others do not know that. That they will think I am…” He trailed off.

“Well, I think you’re a good person. You’re smart, and stubborn, and sarcastic, and…other adjectives that begin with S.” Jameson smiled when that got a laugh out of Schneep. “And this doesn’t change any of that.”

Tears started to gather in Schneep’s eyes again. He buried his face in Jameson’s shirt.

“See? It’s okay. It’s all okay.” For a moment they were silent. Then Jameson said, “I think you should go to bed now. But not before taking that medication you’ve been missing.”

Schneep nodded. “Stay with me, a while?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll stay with you.”

He had time to.
.............................................................................................

Jameson arrived at the theatre for rehearsal. He had not been expecting to spend an extra two hours at Schneep’s apartment, but he wasn’t about to leave while his friend was upset. Even if that friend had fallen asleep within fifteen minutes and hadn’t shown any signs of waking up in all the two hours he was there.

Jameson paused before entering the theatre, leaning against the wall. A few deep breaths. He was tired. God, he was tired. The weight was pressing down, not on his spine or his head, but directly on his mind. But he had to go to rehearsal. Everyone was expecting him. He couldn’t skip one. He couldn’t let down all the crew members that needed to run through everything. And if they missed one, that could delay the show and disappoint the audience. He couldn’t do that. He had to show up. Run through the show. It was only another three hours. He could do it.

It was not encouraging when his stage manager Darla greeted him with a “Where have you been?! You’re ten minutes late!”

“Things came up,” Jameson said. “Now are we ready to start?”

“Yeah, of course.” Darla nodded. “You left your cape and mask here last time, we brought them out, check with Ryan.”

“Got it.” He…hadn’t actually realized he’d left his mask and cape at the theatre. Well it was a good thing the others had found it, and he hadn’t had to drive back home, look for it, not find it, only to drive back and find his stuff already here. He would hate to waste everyone’s time.

Things went smoothly for the first hour. But it was when they all reconvened after a ten-minute break that things started to turn for the worse. For whatever reason, the lights wouldn’t work, and the techies took twenty minutes to figure out the problem. Just when they thought it was fixed, the main spotlight flickered and died. “It’s fine, we’ll just run it without that one,” Jameson said, sighing. He blinked, lingering in the darkness for a while, before opening them and returning to the busy world.

Then he was having trouble remembering his planned lines. True, being a magician didn’t involve nearly as much memorization as being a stage actor, but it was still more than most people thought. Not to mention, it often involved more timing, as you had to get the line to match up perfectly with the trick or it loses all dramatic effect.

Oh yes, the tricks. Jameson’s tricks were a clever combination of real magic and stage magic, a fine balance between the two. Of course, the crew didn’t know about the REAL magic. They just thought it was some wonderful light tricks and digital effects. So when they magic came out strained, because Jameson had spent three hours trying out new spells earlier that day and was a little lower on energy, that meant the rehearsal was delayed for an entire half hour while the crew tried to fix technical devices that didn’t actually work. Guilt was curdling in Jameson’s stomach. He was making everyone stay late.

And indeed, the time was 8:23 pm and it didn’t look like the rehearsal was anywhere close to being finished. Jameson squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears start to well. No, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. Sure, he was tired and his head felt heavy with the events of the day. It didn’t matter. These things weren’t important. What was important was everyone else’s thoughts and feelings. Not his.

“Alright, one more time!” Darla called out. “Start from the levitation trick!”

That trick was…well, tricky. Levitation magic didn’t come naturally to him. Jameson took a deep breath, adjusted his mask, and shouted, “Ready!”

The objects he was levitating—just wooden cubes for now, probably to be replaced with something else in the actual show—were placed on the tables around the stage. Jameson blinked sweat out of his eyes, trying to focus. He chanted the words under his breath, feeling the strain of magic. Like trying to stretch a barely-used muscle after you’d already been working out for half an hour. Focus. Concentrate. Watch the blue magic float around the target, watch them wobble, then lift, slowly, trembling in the air—

“It snapped!”

“Backdrop’s coming down!”

“Watch out!”

The shouts snapped him out of concentration, sending the cubes crashing to the ground. Jameson whirled around to see the painted backdrop crashing down as well, landing just a few feet from him. He stared at it where it landed. The shouts of the crew members faded into buzzing background noise.

He could fix this.

He could fix it, he could help.

It was alright.

It was fine, he could help.

He could—

He felt his heart burning cold.

Tears slipped from his eyes, from under his mask, only to freeze the moment they left his face, shattering on the floor.

The buzzing background noise was growing louder, louder, it was a storm inside his head, thoughts whirling in a whiteout of feelings he couldn’t name, he was tired, he was so so tired, tired of this, tired of everything—

A blizzard exploded on the stage.

Wind howled, blue chips of cold magic swirling around him in a storm, a storm, a storm. Beneath his feet the wood of the stage groaned as the temperature dropped, glowing icicles of freezing magic jabbing from the ground. He’d fallen to his hands and knees. All he could see was blue and white and blue and white and blue and white—

Someone was shouting. He was vaguely aware of the sound through the screaming gales in his mind. The magic storm swirled taller, reaching the lights above and freezing their bulbs until they burst.

Someone was in front of him. He could see their shape in the fog of the magic flakes. They grabbed him by the arms, started shaking. He didn’t respond. Just stared. Tears were still slipping down, freezing his mask to his face.

Slowly, a voice started to pierce the winds. “—Jems! You can’ keep t’is up, you’ll hurt someone! Yourself, too! Jems! Look at me!”

Jameson’s eyes focused on the someone in front of him. A familiar face. Marvin. “Are you alrigh’, Jems?” he asked.

And Jameson shook his head.

“What’s wrong? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

He shook his head again. How was he supposed to say so much? How was he supposed to explain about how he was being crushed? Crushed first by Jackie going missing, by Distorter being out there and ready to fuck with them at any time, and the other magicians wouldn’t or couldn’t help, so he had to do it on his own, he had to make sure his friends were safe from this creature, he had to learn some way to keep him at bay, and he had to be there for everyone else, had to listen to all their problems, had to make breakfast in the morning after Marvin had another nightmare, had to bring food and anything that could help to Rama and Michelle who’d just lost a husband and a father who might not come back, had to figure out what was wrong with Anti, had to check on Schneep because he was in danger of working himself to death while being attacked by his own mind, he had to do all this and it was crushing him, it was killing him, he couldn’t handle everyone’s problems as well as his own, couldn’t hold their grief and his too, but it didn’t matter didn’t matter shouldn’t matter should it matter? couldn’t matter in the face of all—

Oh. Oh, Marvin was hugging him. He was shivering, in the face of this cold storm coming from Jameson, but he was still hugging him. There was frost forming on his jacket, but he wasn’t leaving.

Jameson leaned his head on Marvin’s shoulder. He wrapped his arms around his friend. His shoulders started to shake. But the storm died down, ice covering the stage melted into nothing. Things were warm again.

“We’re goin’ to go home,” Marvin said in a voice that left no room for argument. “We’re goin’ to go home. And we’ll relax tonight, and tomorrow, too.”

Jameson started to shake his head. He couldn’t let Marvin worry about him—

“Yes, we are.” Marvin stood up, still holding Jameson close. “You do a lot for others, Jems. Let someone else do somet’ing for you.”

That…that sounded really nice. Jameson grabbed the fabric of Marvin’s jacket, clinging to it. He nodded.

“Alrigh’. Let’s go. C’mon, one step at a time.”

One step at a time.

They took the bus back, since Marvin wouldn’t let JJ drive. Once home, Marvin tried to cook. He did better than expected. They turned on the television in the living room, with Marvin in his usual chair and JJ lying on the sofa, underneath a blanket. The cat took the opportunity to fall asleep on him. And eventually, JJ found he was drifting off as well.

Maybe…maybe it did matter.

Maybe he should let it matter.

JJ fell asleep, feeling warmer now knowing that there would be others still there when he woke up.