Part Eleven of the Inverted AU
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a fic series I wrote from December 2018 to August 2021. After the chaos of a few weeks ago, Anti decides to check in on this Stacy again. Meanwhile, it seems her involvement in the fight hadn't gone unnoticed by the other five.]
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Stacy was late to pick up the kids. Again. She’d been running around for the past two weeks or so, trying her best to get a new job. But it seemed like everywhere she went, she was met with a “we’re not looking for anyone right now, sorry.” She left them with a copy of her sparse resume anyway, but she had a hunch she wouldn’t get a call back.
She’d been lucky this time. The place had a “Now Hiring” sign out front, and they let her into an interview right then and there. She was glad she’d dressed a bit nicer than usual just in case this happened. But the interview…hadn’t gone well, possibly? The manager had asked her about prior work experience, and when she replied she worked at The Dish and Glass before, he asked her if she was the waitress from the news. Of course she was. Her face had been all over the TV for days after the incident. It was becoming something of a local mystery: one ordinary May night, a regular customer had walked into the diner at three a.m., only to see the manager and cook dead on the floor and the waitress missing entirely. It had been immediately reported, the police had come to the scene, and the next morning Stacy woke up to a couple cops knocking on the door, checking to see if she was home.
Of course, she hadn’t told them everything. What would they think of that? Yes, I saw a magician and a living glitch fighting over a sentient glowing eyeball. Please don’t lock me up, I’m telling the truth and not crazy. I’m fit to raise my kids who need me, I swear. Instead, she’d told them almost the story: she took out the trash, accidentally let a cat in, and the three of the workers chased it into the dining area, where she’d ducked under the counter to get at the cat better, and lucky she did, because some sort of grenade went off and she hit her head and got knocked out. She woke up with her arm hurting from some sort of mysterious burn, and then she went home, too in shock to call the police. Most people accepted that story, though it was still baffling. What kind of grenade could tear people into pieces and completely wreck the walls of the diner but not the furniture? Conspiracy theorists were already circling the case like wolves circling a wounded deer.
Stacy was so lost in her thoughts that she nearly missed the turn for the school. Luckily she snapped out of it just in time. She pulled the minivan up to the curb where the kids were sitting. The two of them climbed inside.
“Hi kids!” she said in a forced cheery voice. “Have a good time at school?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Yeah, it was good.”
They didn’t talk much since the divorce. Stacy knew they missed their dad, but he couldn’t come back. She didn’t know how much they knew about what happened during the proceedings, or if they knew the reason why their father was ruled unfit to raise them, but she’d told them repeatedly that it was better this way, and she’d explain when they were older. At least they hadn’t seen the video he sent her afterwards. That would scar them for sure.
The family’s house was a small, one-story rental on the edge of the city. It wasn’t in a bad neighborhood, but with the state this town was in it couldn’t be in a good one either. The kids rushed inside the moment their mom opened the door, taking their backpacks into their shared bedroom and mumbling explanations about homework. Stacy sighed, and immediately collapsed on the worn brown couch in the living room. She threw her arm across her eyes and lay there. She probably had things to do—bills to pay, job locations to visit. But she needed a moment.
She stayed in that position for a while before something bumped her foot.
Now that was weird. They didn’t have a pet, what could’ve done that? She wondered if she imagined it, then felt another, more vigorous bump against her leg. She peeked out from under her arm, then flung it away entirely when she recognized that green glow. “Sam?!” she gasped.
The little eyeball whizzed up next to her head, their iris making a smile shape. They nuzzled her face, and the gesture managed to pull a smile out of her. “Good to see you, buddy,” she said softly. “But what’re you—”
The old TV they had flickered to life. Stacy bolted upright and watched the static crawl across the screen. It gave way to chunks of red, blue, and green, which flickered and flashed rapidly before flying out of the TV all together. She closed her eyes for a split second, and when she opened them Anti was standing in the middle of her living room. Shapes of red, blue and green ran across his skin like oil across water before disappearing entirely, leaving him relatively normal-looking. He rolled his shoulders, muttered something that sounded like “cathode rays,” then looked at Stacy and said, “Hello. Sam wanted to visit so I came too.”
“Um, u-uh…hi,” she said, gaping. “I didn’t…think I would see you again.”
“I didn’t either,” Anti admitted. “Unless you were in danger, which could be possible at any moment. But I told you, Sam wanted to visit. They like you.”
Sam punctuated this by perching on top of Stacy’s shoulder and curling their optic nerve around them. “I see,” Stacy mused, a spark in her eyes as she watched them. Then she turned her attention to the TV. “I thought you were, like, computer based…”
“Electricity, actually,” Anti shrugged. “Mostly. Remind me to tell you about the time I got trapped in a room lined with a Faraday cage for nine days. Fucking s̛ưc͠ke͡d̵.”
“Um, okay.” Stacy had no idea what a Faraday cage was, but she could guess that it blocked electric signals or something like that.
“Mom?” A pair of little footsteps came running down the hall. Stacy’s heart skipped as the kids turned the corner back into the living room. “We heard weird noises. Is something wrong with the TV, or…” Her daughter’s question trailed off as the kids took in the scene.
Stacy’s head darted back and forth between the kids and Anti. They seemed to be having a staring contest. Normally Stacy would’ve placed her bet on Anti, who didn’t even need to blink, but in this case the two little ones looked totally frozen in time, eyes like lasers focused on Anti.
Her son was the first one to break the tension. “You look like Dad,” he said.
Anti folded his arms. “I’m not.”
“Yeah I guessed that. Dad has both eyes. And he doesn’t wear scarves.”
“I know.”
“You know Dad?!”
“Yes.”
“Are you related?”
“No.”
Well. This was not how Stacy would’ve expected this to go. She was prepared for Anti to snap at them for interrupting, or for the kids to freak out upon seeing a strange man. Maybe children were just too low on Anti’s radar to register as worth being hostile towards. And maybe the kids were reassured by his resemblance to their father. Anyway, Stacy was so caught off guard that she could only gape at the exchange.
Her daughter squealed, drawing her attention. “What is that?!” she gasped, pointing to Sam, who was still sitting on Stacy’s shoulder. In response, the little eye popped into the air, optic nerve tail wagging.
“That’s Sam,” Anti explained. “They’re a friend of my friend.”
“Does that make them your friend?”
“I don’t know.”
Sam zoomed right on over and gently bumped into the side of Anti’s head, as if to say 'of course it does you dummy.' Anti frowned at them in a jokingly irritated fashion.
“Wait…are you friends with MOM?” her son asked, eyes wide.
Anti shrugged, and looked over to Stacy. “Ah, yes, we…are,” she rushed to explain. “Anti and Sam helped me out that night at the diner. You remember, the one the police asked me about?”
“The one that means you don’t have work anymore.” Her daughter nodded. “I get it.” Stacy was sure she didn’t, but luckily she was saved from making awkward explanations when Sam flew over to the kids. They circled them a couple times, before gently bapping each one on the cheek. In unison, the kids’ eyes lit up. “They’re so cute!” her daughter cooed. “Can we play with them? Please Mom?”
“I…of course. Just be gentle, they’re very delicate.” Stacy wasn’t sure if that was true, but better to be safe than sorry.
As the two kids plonked themselves down on the living room rug and let Sam amuse them, Anti turned to look at Stacy with a puzzled expression. “You still don’t have a job?”
“Ah…n-no,” Stacy admitted. “I’ve been looking, but very few people are hiring.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Anti!” Stacy said, appalled.
“What?”
“The kids!”
“…anyway, a lot of businesses in the city are looking for help. Granted, a fair bit of them are working for some mob or another, but a lot are legitimate. Help is disappearing. Where’ve you been looking?”
“I-I’ve been driving around every day since you saw me, dropping in and-and asking, and giving them my resumes. A lot of-of customer service places.”
Anti stared at her. She could practically hear the hum of his thinking, like an overworked CPU. Then he said, “I’m going to your computer. Meet me there.” And dissolved into fragments.
Confused, Stacy stood up and hurried down the hall to her room, where her laptop computer had its permanent resting place on her desk. She opened the bedroom door and saw the screen of the computer flickering through websites too quickly for her to get a good look at them. After a little bit, it settled on a single site and Anti reformed, sitting on the edge of the desk. “There we go,” he said, sounding like a cat that just succeeded in showing up the stupid humans.
“Wh-what?” Stacy walked over and sat in her swivel chair. He’d…actually opened up her email. That was concerning, to say the least.
“If you want to find a job, you need to do it online,” Anti explained. “I signed you up for a lot of sites to help you with that. They’ll mail you job opportunities, but it can get very spammy so unsubscribe if you get tired of that. I also sent your resume to several businesses that would hire someone with your qualifications. If you don’t like them, then don’t accept the job when they tell you to come in for an interview.”
“I…don’t know what to say.” Stacy shook her head, stunned. “I thought you, like, didn’t like me or something.”
“‘Like’ is a relative term. It’s my fault you’re unemployed, so until you get a new job I owe you, and I hate that. So I have to help you get one.” Anti’s form flickered for a moment. “You’re running out of savings.”
“How did you—”
“U̷se yo͟ur ̴co̶m̨mon s̶e̸n͞s͏e͢. I didn’t do anything, if that makes you feel better, just checked. Unless you’re planning on dipping into your kids’ college funds, you need a boost. I can transfer you one.”
Stacy glared. “From where?”
“Well, I’m sure you wouldn’t be opposed to your bastard husband finally paying his child support.”
“You can’t—”
“Actuall̛y͠ ͡I͠ c͡an̢. And I just did. Have fun with that!” And in a flash of grinning pixels he disappeared. Her computer screen briefly turned to static before settling back to normal.
Stacy leaned back in the chair. Good to know Anti can hack bank accounts as easily as he can spy on her social media profiles. And she supposed she did appreciate his help. But she got the feeling he’d done it as much to spite Chase as he did it to help her. And stealing money, no matter who from, made her uncomfortable. But Anti didn’t seem the type to listen to her, so she supposed she had to make the most of it.
Playful shouts came from the living room. Apparently Sam hadn’t left, and was still entertaining the kids. With a small smile, Stacy swiveled around and left. Maybe…if the kids were happy, she should be too.
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Time passed. The sun set, and it became evening. On the other side of the city, Chase sat at the dining room table and watched as Jackie ran around, looking for his mask. He was wearing the rest of his getup, but that part specifically had gone missing.
“Just go out without it, dude,” Chase suggested, casually taking another sip of his beer.
“I can’t do that!” Jackie sounded scandalized at the very idea. “I have a secret identity to maintain! I can’t go out and buy supplies from the hardware store if the stupid police have my face on a fucking wanted poster. People would recognize me!”
“Mm-hmm. Speaking of people recognizing you, where’s Jack?” If Jackie was going to go running around the house in full vigilante regalia, an outfit that was on the news frequently, that could cause major problems.
“Jack is taking a nap,” Schneep piped in, sitting across from Chase with a coffee mug in hand. He about to go to work too, but instead of being fueled through the night by zealous righteousness like Jackie was, he just used caffeine. “We are always leaving at this time, I thought it would be better to eliminate chance.”
Chase nodded. “Tell Jameson if you decide to keep this up. Might get suspicious otherwise.”
Schneep nodded in return, then swallowed a whole mouthful of hot coffee before immediately spitting it back into the mug with a gasp. Chase rolled his eyes. “And that’s the twenty-fourth time you’ve done that. Are you ever going to learn?”
“I think it is different!” Schneep rasped. “It is not!”
“Yeah, of course it’s not, hot coffee is hot coffee regardless of the day you brew it,” Jackie scowled. “You haven’t seen my mask, have you?”
“I think Marvin stole it,” Schneep said, eyebrows scrunching up as he remembered.
“Mar—of course it’s him. Why the hell does he need that?! And he locked the basement door, AGAIN, which is a huge inconvenience, STILL.”
“I thought your supplies were upstairs,” Chase pointed out.
“I—well, it—” Jackie spluttered. “Whatever. I’m going to turn on the news and hope that he finishes his…stuff…before the night ends.” He turned on his heel and went through the door into the living room. The sound of the evening news could be heard through the open archway that served as the kitchen/dining room entrance.
“Get a back up mask!” Chase shouted, then took another swig while Jackie yelled obscenities at him from the other room.
“You should not antagonize him so much,” Schneep suggested.
“Hey, I can’t control my mouth when I’m drunk.”
“That is your first one.”
“Are you sure?”
“Chase I am not Jack, do not fucking try that on me.”
“Alright alright, fine, whatever,” Chase waved away Schneep’s comments.
In the living room, the TV continued: "And now for the local news, police are still looking for the culprit of the Diner Bombing two weeks ago. Two civilians were killed in “the Dish and Glass” by what police can only assume was a new, developmental kind of bomb. The only witness was one Stacy Davidson, who claims she didn’t see anything before she was knocked out by the force of the explosion."
Chase turned sharply to the side, knocking over his bottle. “What was that?”
“Chase, for fuck’s sake—”
He was already in the living room. He was standing behind one of the couches, eyes fixed on the TV screen. There was a news anchor in a suit and a lot of makeup, droning on about…something. And taking up a quarter of the picture was a photograph of a woman with curly blonde hair and brown eyes. She’d gotten a new haircut and her cheeks had filled out, but Chase still recognized her instantly.
“Oh my god…” he muttered. “She’s still here.”
Jackie glanced behind him. “Wait…that’s her? That’s the same Stacy?”
Chase nodded. “I thought she left town…but she’s just here…”
Schneep came out of the dining room, still holding his coffee mug. “Chase, you have got to let this go, it is very stupid of you. One woman is not worth everything else in your life.”
“Just because YOUR marriage didn’t work out doesn’t mean MINE won’t!” Chase yelled.
The doctor’s expression immediately darkened. Before anyone could do anything they regretted, Marvin entered the room. “What…did I walk into?” he asked.
“Hey fucker!” Jackie stood up sharply. “Heard you stole my mask. Give it back, I gotta go do important stuff.”
“Oh, unlike me?” Marvin growled. “Don’t think I can’t pick up what you’re throwing down. But fine. Here it is.” He threw said mask at Jackie, who caught it easily.
“Why did you even need this?” he muttered, pulling it on.
“Taglock,” Marvin said, like that explained everything.
“Fine. Whatever. I’m leaving. Schneep, you’re leaving too. C’mon.”
“But I—”
“Put it in a travel mug and let’s go.” Jackie glared at him, subtly gesturing towards Chase, who was still totally enraptured by the TV. 'We’re not dealing with this right now,' Jackie’s look said. Schneep shut his mouth and nodded, disappearing briefly back into the kitchen before coming back out with a silver travel mug of coffee and a black bag. The two of them left without another word.
Marvin turned his attention to Chase. “What are you looking at?”
“It’s STACY,” Chase emphasized.
“Your ex?” Marvin looked at the TV screen, barely catching the picture of Stacy before it cut to commercial. His eyes widened. “Oh my god, I’ve seen her before. She was with the bitch.”
That snapped Chase out of his stupor. “What?!”
“That night I went after the septic eye. I cornered him in a diner, she was there, he protected her.”
“What.” Chase’s eyes were alight. He clenched his fists.
“Calm your tits, I don’t think he was interested in her THAT way. But she does know him.”
“I’m going to find her. I’m going to get her back.” Chase said, spinning around and heading towards the front door.
“Okay, I can see where that can be helpful. If she knows him, she can tell us about his plans, or even lead us to him. But, Chase, think about this. You and her are…complicated. Maybe one of us—”
Chase looked over his shoulder, and the glare he shot Marvin was enough to silence the magician immediately. There was no room for argument here. He loved Stacy. She needed to be with him. They needed to be a family again. There was no other option.
“I’m getting her back,” he repeated in a steely tone. He opened the door and left, slamming it behind him.