Part Fourteen of the PW Timeline
A JSE Fanfic
[This is part of a complete series I wrote from July 2019 to July of 2022. Laurens goes searching for her notebook of information, but it seems to have disappeared. Meanwhile, Dr. Newson attends her court hearing against Marvin, and JJ has the strangest feeling that someone is following him.]
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Laurens pulled to the side of the road, checking the address she’d written down. This part of town was unfamiliar to her, so it paid to double-check. But she was indeed at the right house. Unless Chase had given her the wrong address, but considering this was supposed to be one of his friends’ places, she doubted that.
Stepping out of the car, she checked the cast on her arm and then hurried up the path to the doorway and rang the bell. She then waited for a few long, awkward moments before deciding to ring again. Then again. And just when she was starting to wonder if anyone was actually home, the door opened a bit, revealing a man holding a cat.. “Hi, get inside, quick,” he said.
“I—sorry, what?” Laurens blinked in surprise.
“If this is going to last longer than a minute, I need you to get inside before—oh, no you don’t!” The cat in the man’s arms was wriggling a lot, and he fought to keep hold of it. “She wants out, so get inside so I can close the door!”
“Oh! Right.” Laurens stepped inside the house, and the man closed the door right behind her.
Not a moment too soon, the cat jumped out of his arms and landed on the floor, staring at the closed door. It mewed, one of those whiny meows cats do when they want something. “Luna, for fuck’s sake, you’re not an outdoor cat,” the man said, exasperated. “There are no outdoor domestic cats, stop it.” The cat stared at him, then suddenly darted away, a black shadow streaking across the floor. The man sighed, then looked over at Laurens. “Sorry. Anyway, what did you want?”
“You’re Marvin, right?” Laurens asked. “I’m Rya Laurens, I’m your friend Schneep’s therapist.”
“Oh, you call him Schneep! He must like you.” Marvin nodded. “So how’d you find my address?”
“Chase gave it to me,” Laurens explained. “See, I gave my notebook to one of my coworkers, and he gave it to Chase, and when I called him about it he said he gave it to you, so now I need it back and I’ve come to get it.”
Marvin’s shoulders slumped a bit, as if releasing some anxiety. “Oh, okay. No problem. I think I left it—”
There was a sudden clatter down the hall. Laurens turned to see the small black cat from before was now wrestling with a larger, lighter-colored cat.
“For the love of—Luna Void, no! Leave him alone! He was just sleeping.” Marvin picked up a cat toy on a string from the coffee table, and handed it to Laurens. “Here, keep her busy while I look for your notebook. Fifteen minutes, she’ll wear herself out.” And without waiting for an answer, he disappeared down the hall and into one of the rooms.
“Wh—well, okay then.” Laurens started waving the cat toy around, immediately attracting the attention of Luna. The cat crept closer, crouched down, wiggled her tail, and then pounced! Laurens yanked the toy away at the last minute, a smile creeping onto her face. She’d never had a pet before, but she’d always considered it. Maybe once her routine at the hospital settled down more and this whole situation was fixed, she’d get a cat.
She spent what felt like a long time playing with Luna, waving around the cat toy and watching her jump after it. The other cat appeared at some point, too, but preferred to sit and just stare at the toy. In fact, by the time Marvin reappeared, she’d been thoroughly distracted by the cats.
“Hey, so uh…while you were hanging out in here, did you see your notebook?” Marvin asked, his voice strangely strained.
“Hmm? Well, no.” Laurens gave the living room another glance. There weren’t a lot of surfaces for a notebook to rest on. “Why?”
“I thought it was in my room, but uh…no.” Marvin walked around the perimeter of the room, moving some pillows and looking behind furniture. “I checked the hall drawers and the closet and the bathroom and even the altar room, and it’s not there.” He frowned, and disappeared down the other hall. “I’m gonna check the kitchen and dining room…”
Laurens stared after him, then put down the cat toy—allowing Luna to attack it at will—and followed. “Hey, I’ll help!” she called.
The two of them spent fifteen minutes searching the rooms of the house, with no luck finding her notebook. “What the fuck?!” Marvin finally cried, looking more than a little panicked. “I was sure it was here! I was—” He leaned over and hit the hallway wall several times.
“Whoa, hey, it’s fine, I don’t need it right now,” Laurens said reassuringly. “I can come back another day.”
“But it was right here!” Marvin insisted. “Why the fuck do things just vanish every time I put them down?!”
“You seem a bit frustrated,” Laurens reasoned. “Maybe you should forget about this for a while and do something else for a bit? It’ll be better when you come back.”
“What are you, a—I was about to say ‘what are you, a mental health advice website’ but you’re actually a therapist, huh.” Marvin shook his head, running his hands through his ponytail. “It’s just so—ugh! Frustrating, you’re right! And I’m not gonna be able to stop thinking about it, today when I have a thing!”
“What thing?” Laurens asked, curious.
“Oh, uh…I have a court hearing soon,” Marvin explained, his expression rapidly changing from frustration to embarrassment. “Not for me! I’m just suing someone.” He winced. “That sounds bad, but I promise, I’m not a bitch.”
“Wait…you wouldn’t happen to be the one suing Dr. Newson, would you?” Laurens suddenly asked.
Marvin blinked. “Yeah, how’d you know?”
Laurens laughed. “She said she wouldn’t be in for work today because she has to attend a court hearing. I thought your last name sounded familiar.” She noticed that Marvin’s awkwardness hadn’t disappeared. “Oh don’t worry, I don’t hold it against you at all. If she wasn’t my boss, I probably would’ve done something similar once I got back. Malpractice, right?”
Marvin nodded slowly. “Yeah…well…alright, then.” He turned away. “But I could’ve sworn I had your notebook somewhere in plain sight. It couldn’t have just disappeared.”
“Where was the last place you saw it?” Laurens asked, a bit taken aback by the sudden change of subject.
“In the living room, on the coffee table. About…I dunno, a while ago. But it’s not there now. Did it just vanish?! What the fuck?” Marvin scowled. “And also! Semi-related, but I swear the hall chester drawers weren’t that close to the wall. I know it’s out there, but it’s been driving me crazy all week or so, and I just had to say something to someone.”
“Chester…you mean the chest of drawers?” Laurens looked down the hall. They seemed to be pushed against a doorway. “Did you not put it back when you went through that door?”
“Nah, I don’t use that door,” Marvin said dismissively. “Why would I need it? It’s a shitty door. Doesn’t even lock.”
“…huh. Maybe you should fix that,” Laurens suggested tentatively.
“Maybe. I dunno, I keep forgetting.” Marvin sighed. “Anyway, sorry for that tangent. Also sorry I couldn’t find your notebook.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry. Just let me know when you do find it. Here, I’ll give you my number.”
In the end, Laurens left without finding her notebook. That fact was starting to worry her, in all honesty. It contained a lot of information that she would have liked to keep close for her sessions. There would be a lot of work, putting it together again. And there was another, more uneasy feeling about the missing notebook that she couldn’t identify. Worry, perhaps? About more than just not getting it back?
What if someone took it? The question crossed her mind, and she wanted to dismiss it. Yet she found that she couldn’t. Not entirely.
Well, for now, she had to go to work. Laurens started her car again—it had taken some practice to get used to driving with her arm in a cast, but she was pretty sure she could handle it now—and headed out.
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Newson stared down at the paper on the table before her, unable to do anything but read it over and over again. It had appeared in her mail that morning, but she hadn’t opened the envelope until now. That had probably been a bad idea.
"Due to the nature of this recent situation, we have decided to suspend your duties as head of the Silver Hills Institute and Hospital. This suspension will remain in place until the time in which this is resolved."
It made sense that the Board of Directors would want to suspend her position. They were concerned with image, after all, and having their head doctor involved in a legal incident involving malpractice was certainly bad press. Still, understanding their reasoning didn’t make it hurt any less.
“Dr. Newson, are you okay?”
She looked up. “Oh? Yeah, I’m fine, Yates. Thanks.” Her lawyer didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t expect him to. So she quickly changed the subject. “They’re taking a while, huh?” She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “Is that good or bad?”
“Well, this isn’t a trial,” Yates reminded her. “A long wait period isn’t necessarily an indicator of anything. It’s most likely because of the complicated details of this case.”
Well, Newson had to admit that was true. First, they thought Schneeplestein was a killer. Then Laurens, his doctor, disappeared, and when she returned she brought with her evidence that Schneeplestein wasn’t actually the one who killed all those people. It was someone else, going by the pseudonym “Anti.” This Anti hadn’t just kidnapped Schneeplestein, but also this PI friend of his, who was still missing. Essentially, two cases were connected by this one man, and nothing had been as it seemed.
Bored, Newson looked around the room again. It was a small courthouse, only meant for hearings like this. There were two tables for the opposing parties—Newson called them the “sue-er” and the “sue-ee”, even though she knew those weren’t the technical terms—and their lawyers, and a longer, curved table for the judges who’d hear the case out. Lights overhead provided enough brightness to see things, helped by sunlight coming from the high-up windows. It was very typical of what you’d expect a courtroom to look like.
The judge table was currently empty, as they’d left in order to discuss whether to let this case proceed. One of the remaining tables was for her and her lawyer, and the other was for the other guys: Marvin Maher and his lawyer. Marvin was currently on the phone, either not noticing or not caring how loud it was in the small room even when he kept his voice down. Newson could hear every word of his conversation with Chase; they were talking about something “improving,” possibly a person, and saying how they hope it will continue that way.
A side door opened, and the judges returned. Newson sat up straight in her seat, waiting for what they would say.
“After a great deal of discussion, we have decided to call a second hearing, featuring testimonies from more people involved in the situation to hopefully clear up some of the circumstances surrounding it. This hearing will be held eight days from now, on the thirty-first of October…”
Newson let out a deep sigh at the statement. On Halloween, really? That was a holiday! Though, it wasn’t like she had any plans this year. For as long as she could remember, she spent holidays like Halloween with her brother, Jeremy. And…that wasn’t an option anymore.
A familiar ache reappeared in her chest. Sometimes she wondered if a hole had opened up in her heart the day she got the news about Jeremy. A hole that had been empty for so long, only to be filled with this deep, burning anger. Like a little ball of poison had wormed its way inside, and attached itself to the wall of the hole, and now it had been there for so long that she didn’t think she could remove it without doing damage to herself.
But the consequences of that poison were catching up to her, the symptoms finally showing. First in this court hearing, then in that letter that had been delivered to her that morning announcing the suspension of her position.
The judges finished talking, and without any more reason to be here, Newson stood up. She glanced at Marvin, noting how he looked rather smug, then turned and left, not bothering to notice if anyone followed her.
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“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Oliver asked.
Laurens nodded, though secretly she was still a bit uncertain. “It’ll be fine. We need a change of scenery.”
“Well, you’re right about that,” Oliver agreed. “Okay, if we’re doing this, let’s go.”
Nodding, Laurens leaned away from the conversation and closer to Schneep. “How are you feeling?”
Schneep took a moment to answer, busy looking around at the hallway. It had been a while since he’d left his room. To the point where Laurens was seriously concerned about the effect it was having on him. Now that she was his therapist once again, she wasn’t going to let that continue. “I am…fine,” Schneep finally said.
“Your hands are shaking a bit,” Laurens noticed. “It’s fine if that’s nerves, you know?”
“A-ah, no, they have just been shaking…lately,” Schneep hurried to say.
“Really?” Laurens frowned. “That might be a side effect of your medication. Is there anything else like this bothering you?”
Schneep paused. “Okay, so I lied. I may be feeling some…emotions.”
Laurens smiled a bit. “Alright, but remember to please tell me if there’s anything like that happening.”
She reached forward and pushed open the double doors in front of them. The cafeteria was empty—just as she’d planned it to be. The floor was dotted with clusters of tables, with a door leading to the kitchen, where you would go to get food. She could hear the faint sounds of the staff getting ready for dinner.
“Let’s sit…hmmm, here.” Laurens took a seat at the nearest table. Schneep sat next to her, eyes darting around the room, while Oliver sat down at a different table some ways away. “How are you feeling now? Any more nervous?”
“It is…a very big open space,” Schneep said slowly. “It feels a bit empty.”
“Yes, that’s to be expected, it’s been a while since you’ve been in a room this big,” Laurens said slowly. She took out her stack of notes and spread them on the table before her. “So, how have you been?”
“You know, we see each other every day,” Schneep pointed out. “You would think you would know that.”
“Well, it’s always good to hear it from you directly,” Laurens said, glancing down at her notes. “How about…you told me a couple days ago about the eyes. How have things been with those?”
Schneep looked down. “Well, they are still appearing. But I think it is being less frequent.”
“That’s good! And any of the others?”
“The same.”
“I see.” Laurens made a note of that. The slow adjustment of medication appeared to be working. Of course, there was still a ways to go, but it was a start. “And…do you feel like talking about him today?”
Schneep flinched. “…very well. Sure.”
“You don’t have to, of course,” Laurens reassured her.
“I am just worried,” Schneep said. “What if…if he gets angry about me telling people?”
“I don’t think he can get in here,” Laurens said.
“But he has!” Schneep hissed. “Many, many times. I h-have seen him! Heard him. The walls of buildings do not mean anything. Still lying, still whispering to me to do things.” He wrapped his arms around himself.
“Schneep, we’re here to help, you know.” Laurens kept her voice low and calm. “We’ll always look out for him for you. And if he slips past, you have to let me or someone know, okay? Then we can do something about it.” She waited for Schneep to nod in response. “Alright. Are we ready to move on?” Another nod. “Good. Can I ask you about something you just said? The thing about him lying to you?”
“Oh…well, that is a story.” Schneep took a deep breath. “When I was stuck with him, he would…tell me things that were not true. Pretend to be a friend of mine, a-and often he tried to make me think everything that had happened…had not actually happened. That I had imagined it all. That Jackie was not actually there.” His voice started to shake. “I-it was confusing, and I did…did not know what to do about it. It was…h-hard to tell what was really there, while he was doing this.”
“I see.” Laurens nodded. “That sounds confusing. This lying was making it hard to tell what was real? Do you think he was taking advantage of your condition?”
“That must have been it,” Schneep muttered. “I do not know why h-he did that.”
“Usually that’s meant to make someone more dependent on the person lying to them,” Laurens explained. “To make them think that they don’t know what to do, but that person does.”
Schneep took a moment to process this. “…that was probably it, then.” He paused. “Is…do you think that this made the condition worse?”
“I think it would explain a lot,” Laurens said. “You seem to have a lot of doubt about what’s actually happening. I wonder…do you know the mirror trick?”
“That if something is not in the mirror, then it isn’t real? I know that, yes.”
“If I gave you a small mirror, like a compact or something, do you think that would help?” Laurens offered.
Schneep thought this over. “Yes, perhaps. Is that allowed?”
“A small one should be fine,” Laurens said. She knew that Newson would probably deny it, on the basis of it being easy to turn a mirror into a collection of sharp objects. But she thought that risk was worth taking. And she wasn’t going to just give in if anyone made a fuss about it, either. Besides, in her experience, mirrors in compacts were much harder to break, just because of how small they are.
“Then yes, I think I would like that.”
“Alright, I’ll get one for you tomorrow.”
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Jameson was uneasy.
The feeling had been plaguing him all day. It had stayed with him all throughout work, but now, heading home that afternoon, it had increased. He couldn’t relax on the bus, tapping a meaningless rhythm on the back of the empty seat in front of him. What was this? Was he having an anxiety attack? He pressed his fingers to his wrist, checking his pulse. No, that was normal. He could breathe fine, he wasn’t shaking. There were no physical symptoms of an attack. So what was the feeling?
He glanced around the bus to see if there was anything that could be causing this. It looked like just about any other bus. A bit on the crowded side, but he tried to look over as many passengers as possible. Nobody really stood out. And looking out the window, there wasn’t anything outside that was unusual. The bus was on its normal course.
It took about twenty minutes to take the bus from his work to his apartment and back. Soon, JJ saw his stop approaching, and pulled the cord to indicate a stop request. The bus slowed, and he hopped up, making his way to the front. He nodded a thank you to the driver as the doors opened.
He was starting down the sidewalk when he couldn’t help but notice someone else got off the bus at the same stop. Not that strange, really. While this wasn’t a busy stop, people still got off here. But for some reason, the uneasy feeling increased. He glanced behind him, trying to look natural. The man who’d gotten off the bus was wearing a blue shirt and black scarf, his hair was light blonde and his eyes were…well, JJ couldn’t tell. After all, he’d only caught a glimpse of the man.
It was just some stranger, JJ decided. Nothing odd here. So he kept walking.
But soon, the stranger was walking in the same direction he was.
That wasn’t weird, right? That happened all the time, didn’t it? Still, JJ noticed he was walking a bit faster than usual, and he didn’t do anything to slow down.
He had to stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the signal to change. At this point, the stranger should’ve either turned the corner, or drawn even with him to also wait for the signal. But that didn’t happen. JJ once again glanced around, masking it as though he was looking at the traffic. The stranger had stopped some ways away, and was looking at a phone. Weird…most people didn’t hold their phone straight up like that, did they? Not unless they were taking a picture.
Jameson’s heart sped up, pounding in his chest. The signal changed, and he hurried across. Naturally, the stranger hurried, as well. And kept pace, some ways back, as Jameson walked faster and faster, suddenly very eager to get back to his apartment building.
It was only a few minutes’ walk, really, but it felt like forever before Jameson finally ducked into the front entrance of his building, quickly shutting the doors behind him. His breathing tore at his throat, and he tried to calm it.
“Sir, are you okay?” Cynthia, one of the apartment staff, was standing by the elevator doors, the only other person in the area.
Jameson looked over his shoulder, back through the glass doors. The stranger was walking calmly, looking down at his phone, not in sight of the front entrance yet. Noting that, Jameson hurried over to Cynthia. 'I think someone might have been following me,' he said.
Cynthia’s forehead wrinkled as she took a while to translate the signs. “Oh, really? That’s not…are you sure? We’re dedicated to the safety of our residents—”
Jameson nodded furiously, not caring about the usual safety spiel. 'I’m sure.' He looked back towards the front entrance. The stranger had stopped walking just when he was about to pass the windows by, and was now more closely examining the phone. Once again, holding it straight up. 'That man,' he said, trying to gesture discreetly.
“Hmm? Oh, I don’t recognize him, he must not be a resident.” Cynthia leaned closer. “Would you like me to call the police?”
'No, not unless it happens again,' Jameson said. Although part of him really wanted to call the police, he also didn’t want to get some innocent man put on a watchlist or something for no reason. 'Can you just please look out?'
“Of course, sir, and I’ll inform the rest of the staff to look out for any trespassers. Let us know if anything happens.”
Jameson nods, then presses the button for the elevator. As luck would have it, one opened right away, and he quickly got inside, trying not to look too anxious as he pressed the button for his floor. He tried to catch one last glimpse of the stranger before the doors closed, just barely in time to see the man lowering his phone.
He hurried back to his apartment. The moment he was inside with the door closed, Jameson sank to the floor, covering his mouth and feeling tears gathering in his eyes. Who was that man? What did he want? He was sure that he’d been taking pictures, but why? Actually, did it matter? He didn’t want anyone to have pictures of him. Even Chase and Marvin, the closest friends he’d had in years…It had taken weeks for him to let them take pictures of him, and months for him to feel comfortable with them posting those pictures online. So this? This was a nightmare.
Questions kept circling through his mind. Who was that man? What did he want? Why? Who was it? What? Why? Who? He could only think of one person who’d want to follow him for any reason…Jameson shuddered. No, it couldn’t be Anti. Anti didn’t know about him, and besides, that man clearly hadn’t been him. It may have been a while since he’d seen his brother, but he still knew what he looked like.
Jameson took a deep breath, and climbed to his feet. He made sure the apartment door was locked, then went around the rooms and closed all the blinds. Right now, he had to calm down. He didn’t want to start a downward spiral of panic and what-ifs. He needed something to ground himself. How about…playing a game or something? That usually worked for him, if he managed to make his mind busy. Yes.
He ended up turning on his computer and booting up Minecraft. That would work. A perfect distraction. JJ sighed, and slowly started to relax. He could handle this. After he was feeling better, he’d make a plan for what to do in the worst case scenario. He could handle it. It would be fine.
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Elsewhere in the city, a bathroom sink was running. A man ran a washcloth under the water, soaking it, and started wiping away at his face. Peach-colored makeup washed away in streams, slowly revealing red scars covering half the man’s face.
Anti scowled at his reflection and the ugly scar lines it had. God, he hated them. He’d thought about getting surgery to get rid of them, but ultimately decided he didn’t trust any procedures that would do that. So he was stuck with his face for now. Most of the time. After all, it was easy to cover up most physical appearances with makeup.
Of course, it hadn’t been easy at first. But he’d practiced. And now he could change his face enough to slip by most people. It was surprising how much makeup could do, even appearing to alter your bone structure if you were skilled enough.
Though, that wasn’t all that contributed to a good disguise. For example, there was hair dye. Anti picked up a different washcloth and leaned down, trying to get as much of the blonde coloring off as he could manage. He’d probably have to take a full shower to get rid of it all, but it came off pretty easily for now. That was probably because it was some shitty temporary dye, but he had to make do with what he had in this apartment. Most of his good stuff was probably in police custody now, what with them having found his safe house and everything.
Satisfied with how much he’d managed to clean off, Anti dried his face and hair with a towel and returned to the apartment’s living room. He sat down in the nearest chair, pulled that stupid scarf off his neck, and took out his phone to look at the pictures he’d taken.
There was no doubt in his mind now; this had to be Jameson. It had taken a week to track down his information, which was about twice as long as it usually took him. But that was because Jameson didn’t seem to have any online presence at all. Surprising, in this day and age. So Anti had to resort to some more…old-fashioned methods, until today, when he’d finally followed Jameson to where he was living. He noted the name and address of the building.
Anti grinned to himself, but then it slowly faded as he felt someone watching him. He sat up straight and turned to glare at the offending watcher. Jackie. He hadn’t moved from his usual spot, of course he wasn’t able to, but he was staring rather curiously at Anti. That changed once Anti returned the attention, and he flinched and looked away.
“Good, I don’t even have to say anything. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it was rude to fucking stare?” Anti growled. Jackie hunched his shoulders, trying to appear even smaller.
It occurred to Anti, not for the first time, that he wouldn’t have to deal with any of this if he just killed Jackie. It wasn’t like it would be difficult. Yet for some reason, he couldn’t do it. He was able to justify now as the police being reluctant to act if they knew he had a hostage, but there had been a period of a few months, right after he lost Schneep, where keeping Jackie around was no advantage at all, and really more trouble than it was worth. But he still didn’t do it.
Maybe he got attached. In some way or another. Didn’t that happen in situations like this? Well, Anti couldn’t really say he cared about Jackie, but it was sort of nice to just have something living around, fun to see his reactions and little moments of panic. Or whatever.
He turned his attention back to the photos on his phone, zooming in as far as he could on Jameson’s face. God, he looked so much older. It had been too long, really. Maybe this was fate. Fate that he had come to this city, started his little project with Schneeplestein, and eventually found his brother again.
The only question was how Anti was going to get him back.