scnteria

[scnteria]

TASK 03 — INTERVIEW

          THE CLOSEST THING teddy has to a lawyer is his older brother, who is fresh out of law school and living in chicago. but the thing is, you can’t just reach out to your brother and tell him you might’ve been an accomplice to a murder that may or may not ( but probably IS ) your boss and family friend, who happens to be missing. but god, teddy desperately wishes he could pick up the phone and call mccartney.

instead, he has to think: what would mick do?

it’s that very question that runs over and over through his head as teddy enters the sheriff’s office. palms sweating and heart racing, the feeling is all but unfamiliar at this point and he tries to subtly wipe his hands on his jeans as he walks down the narrow hallway. don’t look suspicious. that would be something mick would say, right? well, maybe not from a legal standpoint but he would, at the very least, manage to keep it all together— that must be a thing in the rulebook of being a big brother, something that teddy would just never comprehend. when it came to parents fighting or tension in the house, it was mick that kept it together ( until, of course, he’d call out bullshit when the time came ).

but that’s all teddy needed to do: keep it together.

“what was your relationship with jerry gordon? please give details.”

“i moved to woodstock when i was eighteen, from chicago. one shithole to the next.” he grins a little at his own remark, but the smile doesn’t stay for long. he’s sitting on the metal chair and he gently pushes himself until the front legs are off the ground, and he gently and uneasily balances on the back two. “my dad was pretty good friends with him. you know how tough dads are, though,” he gestures to the sheriff, palm facing up as he does. “don’t show much emotion. they could be best friends or just... measly childhood friends that keep in touch out of obligation. hard to say where they fell, but they kept in touch.

“so much so, that he kinda helped me out when i moved. got me a job at high volume right at the get-go and i guess the rest is history.”

“did you know of any other close relationships jerry had? friends? a girlfriend, perhaps?”

teddy’s eyes widen a little and he tries feebly to suppress the smirk on his face. “i didn’t know him like that. kinda gross. it’s like picturing your dad having sex.”

“do you remember when he first stopped showing up to work?”

“no.” to be fair, it’s not entirely a lie— teddy hasn’t been able to keep up with what day it is for months, now. “not really.” time is fake, anyway.

“why didn’t you report this?”

because i was a bit traumatized by a shooting i witnessed. “he’s always, y’know, skipping town for a few days. he always came back, so it didn’t seem... out of the blue.”

“did you notice anything suspicious around this time? was there anything that made you think you should be concerned about jerry?”

he pauses to contemplate. now would be the time to talk about the shooting, right? god, the anxiety of it all is physically painful— it manifests in his gut, twists around and makes him nauseous. he’d do anything to go a day without this fucking feeling. would saying something make it go away, or would it amplify it infinitely? 

but then he thinks about what his coworkers had told him in the meeting. don’t say anything. it’d only stir the pot more if he decided to stray away from that plan— burn the shoes and don’t mention the shooting. pretend it never happened. maybe he can trick himself into believing it’s true, at this point, that he FABRICATED the whole thing. it was just a bad dream one night. it wasn’t real.

and if it wasn’t real, well, then there was nothing suspicious that happened around that time. and if a gunshot wound is found on the unidentified body, well, at least teddy has some friends to help him figure out what the next move is. he’s not doing this alone anymore. a deep breath preludes his comment: “i don’t think so, no. just besides the fact that he didn’t come back.”

“his house has also been broken into. do you know anything about that?”

“nah.”

“did jerry have any enemies? can you think of any reason someone might have wanted to hurt him?”

if he mentions anything about gambling, it’ll rat jerry out more than he deserves. plus, it’d mean he’d be ratting himself out for even being there in the first place. jerry had his vices, sure, but it didn’t mean he had to DIE because them, no matter what they were. it’s now that the heavy reality of the situation is settling in: the fluorescent light that buzzes above him like god himself is glaring down, watching him lie to the authorities. 

it’s nothing new, though, right? how many times has teddy lied about having weed on his person to a cop? granted, lying about a bit of marijuana and lying about witnessing a potential murder are two very different ballgames.

the nerves start to buzz just the same— tapping against his ribcage, demanding to be felt as if teddy has any other choice. it’s a familiar feeling, one that grips on his lungs and labors his breathing. the walls feel as though they’re leaning in, desperate to hear what he has to say next. he needs to get air. NOW.

“nah, man. no, he’s–” hands move to the sides of the metal chair— it feels cool against his warm palms. he swallows hard and furrows his brows. “–jerry’s a good person, alright?” teddy cringes a bit and moves a hand across his torso. “you guys get all this taxpayer funding and can’t afford a light that doesn’t flicker, dude? makes me nauseous.” he starts to get up.

“one last thing, ” 

teddy pauses halfway as he’s pushing himself up from the chair, his face outwardly pained. “come on, man. what?”

“did anyone by the name of... jennifer gordon ever come by the store? you ever meet her?”

“i don’t–” he can feel his throat tightening and his heart patters against his chest. “no. i don’t typically introduce myself to customers. only cute ones from time to time but– sometimes i give ‘em a fake name for shits and giggles.” probably the most honest he’s been during this interview. “can i GO now?”

“alright. then i think we’re done here.”

he can’t get out of there sooner. a single nod to the sheriff and teddy ducks out, then heads right for the exit. he pushes the door open and silently thanks whatever god is listening that they decided to make it this brisk and cold out today. torn up vans CRUNCH into the snow underneath him as teddy makes a b-line towards the main street, only for him to make it just a few blocks before he gets sick in a nearby bush.

this feeling can’t last forever. surely, it can’t.

[scnteria]

kem and @mvxsinc !

@scnteria​ & @mvxsinc​

in teddy & max’s apartment ♥ ​

he groans softly. it takes a second for his eyes to open, finding max and smiling softly. “ hi. ” he whispers, nose brushing against hers. there’s a sacred oasis in this feeling, in the trailing of fingers and how she’ll look at him like that, like she knows he’s going to say yes before she’s even said it. “ hm ? ” a hum leaves his lips at her request, slow nod following. “ okay. ” kem accepts, still half asleep and ignoring the heaviness that weighs upon his lids and as he smiles. “ just water ? ” he wonders, forehead gently against hers before kissing her. it’s only when he’s stood does he feel the full effects of his fatigue, a slight wobble in his stance before he quietly opens the door to leave.

there’s an immediate chill to creep over him, as he shuffles with softened steps. max’s apartment has become somewhat of a haven for him but he barely explores past her bedroom, not unless they know they’re alone, that teddy is elsewhere and it’s just THEM. so he’s cautious of his VOLUME so late in the night since it’s not just them who are home this time. 

his task is simply, really. fill a glass with water and return as quickly and quietly as he can. he quite literally can’t fuck up, so… once he’s in the kitchen, after flicking on the light, he does just that. he’s pretty sure it’s in record time, too, but when he turns to go back he exhales sharply as he’s startled by a figure. he almost drops the glass but catches it back, a bit spilling on his hand.  “ fuck. ” he brings his hand to his chest, his breath quick momentarily. “ you scared me. ” he admits, before he realises it’s TEDDY. 

kem hesitates, a sudden shift in his stance despite no change being able to hide the fact he’s just stood in his boxers right now. " uh, did you want some ? “ he extends the glass out towards the other. acting natural. 

          A  REALLY  FUN  development  that  teddy  is  learning  about  his  state  of  being  is  that  he  can’t  fucking  sleep.  at  least  now,  he  can  manage  a  few  hours  at  a  time  before  he  stirs  awake,  thoughts  like  water  churning  in  a  mill  that  keep  him  from  resting.  granted,  things  seem  to  be  better  if  he’s  got  someone  in  bed  with  him  (  that  someone  being  one  marty  tsui,  who  is  not  currently  in  his  bed  ).  of  course,  winnie  is  a  great  cuddle  companion.  in  fact,  she’s  even  adjusted  to  his  lack  of  a  sleeping  pattern,  merely  by  sleeping  through  it  like  a  ROCK.

and  y’know  what?  good  for  her.  at  least  someone  is  getting  some  good  rest.  

that  being  said,  the  idea  of  teddy  having  an  internal  clock  is  just  a  joke  at  this  point.  it  certainly  doesn’t  help  that  he’s  not  working  at  the  moment,  though  it’s  becoming  increasingly  evident  that  an  income  is  going  to  be  needed  if  teddy  wants  consistent  access  to  weed.  oh,  and  rent.  whatever.  not  only  that,  but  not  having  a  consistent  schedule  is  not  proving  to  be  a  good  thing  for  him,  either.  sleeping  whenever  he’s  tired  throughout  the  day,  eating  whenever  he’s  hungry—  there’s  no  semblance  of  consistency,  and  that’s  EVIDENT  in  the  way  he’s  wandering  into  the  kitchen  to  eat  cold  pizza,  the  glow  of  the  refrigerator  the  saddest  of  spotlights  on  an  exhausted  frame.

he’s  humming  this  charming  man  by  the  smiths  and  bopping  around,  nodding  his  head  as  he  chews.  it’s  when  he  gets  to  the  crust  that  he  closes  the  refrigerator  door  and  starts  to  wander  around  the  kitchen  table,  steps  on  the  beat  of  the  song  in  his  head  when  he  hears  a  door  open.  he  expects  max,  because  who  else  would  he  expect  coming  from  her  room?  he’s  rendered  speechless  and  frozen  as  he  makes  out  the  figure:  one  kem  arslan.

a  few  more  bites  of  crust  are  held  in  teddy’s  hand  as  he  stares  at  his  friend  across  the  room  from  him.  at  the  offer,  teddy  holds  up  the  piece  of  crust.  “i’m  good,”  he  insists,  mouth  half  full.  “i  think  i’m  hallucinating.”  as  if  that  would  help  his  current  situation.  it’s  very  plausible;  he  hallucinated  a  gunshot  once,  and  a  weird  dark  figure  in  the  corner  of  his  room  the  other  day  but  that’s  neither  here  nor  there.  he  holds  up  two  fingers.  “i  come  in  peace,  sleep  paralysis  demon.  you  kinda  look  like  my  friend,  though.”

[scnteria]

marty !

🎸

this is not what they do. this — the vulnerability that comes with seeing the other cry or show any kind of emotion that isn’t joy or pleasure. this — showing a part of themselves that is kept under wraps from each other, even if she and teddy are good friends. the hug they initiate is all marty feels like they can offer but, still, despite the fact they are the ones that wrapped their arms around teddy first, there’s a few heartbeats where marty is still processing everything. teddy crying, how powerless they feel and how all they do is just tighten their arms around him, pull him closer for a few more seconds. 

when teddy pulls away, marty is met with a vision of him that they never thought they’d witness, more tears than dry cheeks, and she can feel her chest tighten at the image. impressive how, for someone that doesn’t deal with their own emotions, marty always feels so ready to just take on other’s, if they could. “i do believe you, teddy, i do.” even if they are slightly taken back by the fact he hadn’t even talked to them about the whole thing, the thing which brought them to a point where neither has seen the other’s bed in a couple of weeks. “if i didn’t, i wouldn’t be here.” even if those words do come off as something one says just to be the cherry on top, marty does mean them — if there’s one thing they can’t do, is pretend to want to be there for someone if they didn’t. though, if marty’s completely honest with herself, she doesn’t quite know what being here entailed, not when they have no idea what to do to help teddy. 

“hey, you’re not alone. you got me. you got max. maybe we don’t know what you’re really going through but, y’know, we’re here.” they let those words linger between them, words spoken by teddy playing inside their head over and over and over and over again. with each loop, no answer in sight to what they can actually do to make teddy feel better. “tell me how to help you, teddy, ‘cause i want to but don’t know what to do.” 

          IT'S  AS  IF  he's  caved  in  on  himself.  weeks  of  holding  it  together,  it's  like  the  cracks  underneath  his  surface  have  finally  given  in  to  the  pressure  and  have  caused  him  to  come  undone  in  marty's  arms.  his  breaths  shake  as  he  inhales  and  he  moves  a  hand  to  their  arm,  fingers  delicately  wrapping  around  their  tricep.  he  lifts  his  head  to  look  at  them— "if  i  didn't,  i  wouldn't  be  here."  brown  eyes  dark  with  the  way  they  carry  the  harm  he's  felt,  teddy  studies  their  face  and  nods  in  comprehension.  lips  part,  gaze  falls  to  the  ground  and  his  grip  goes  limp.  all  he  can  think  to  do  is  to  lean  in  and  gently  lay  his  lips  on  her  shoulder.  they  linger  for  a  moment  and  his  eyes  fall  to  a  close;  a  tear  falls  as  they  shut.

"i'm  so  scared,"  he  admits,  voice  small  and  muffled  against  their  shirt.  "what  do  i  do  if  it's  him?  i–"  teddy  lifts  his  head,  his  lip  quivering  as  he  slowly  shakes  his  head.  "i  don't  know  what  i'm  gonna  do.  it's  my  fault."  and  it's  hard,  isn't  it?  to  have  to  explain  to  a  friend  how  you're  terrified  to  be  alone  and  terrified  of  what  you're  capable  of— the  nights  feel  darker,  the  moon  less  bright,  the  air  more  bitter,  and  his  lungs  more  restricted.  a  mere  puppet  to  anxiety  in  the  rawest  of  forms,  it's  as  if  teddy  has  relinquished  all  control  of  his  life  without  consent.  and  how  does  one  describe  the  tightness  in  their  chest,  the  invisible  pain  so  sharp  but  unable  to  be  tended  to?  all  of  it  is  nothing  short  of  a  nightmare,  but  he  can't  even  begin  to  describe  it.

and  thus,  he  has  no  idea  how  to  ask  for  help.  it's  like  the  help  he  needs  is  so  far  off  that  he  can't  articulate  what  it  is.  "i  don't  know  how  to  fix  this."  after  moments  of  hyperventilating,  teddy  lifts  his  head  and  rubs  at  his  eye  with  his  sweatshirt  sleeve.  "it's  like–"  a  cringe  settles  on  his  features.  "–it's  like  looking  at  a–  at  a  broken  vase  and  you're  looking  at  the  pieces  to  glue  it  back  together.  where  do  you  even  fucking  START?"

[scnteria]

raiden !

raiden was beginning to view slumber as something of a luxury, a privilege no longer afforded to him since their recent meeting. between the fraudulent behavior they had all participated in, the possible surfacing of their boss’ corpse, and of course, teddy. throughout all of the uncertainty and havoc, rai had never entertained the thought that any of them could really have anything to do with what had happened. least of all teddy. teddy who he’d spent hours in the car with, passing a shared cigarette with, late-night trips to the nearest fast food joint, and hours caught in laughter with. how do you trust the grasp of someone with blood of their hands? or rather, their feet? even still, he couldn’t let teddy go alone. despite it all, the boy still had a home nestled in raiden’s heart.

as the pair of sneakers were embraced by the fire, raiden watched blankly, hands in his sweatshirt and mind miles away. “i would never let you do this alone, teds,” he answered honestly, voice smaller than he expected, almost engulfed by the breath of both the fire and the woods. “you know that…” he knows better than to even toss teddy a glance, the face no doubt kissed with tears. an image that would only add to rai’s sense of heartbreak. “i just- i don’t know why you didn’t say shit. to us. or to me, even.”

          THE  SOUND  OF  his  nickname  coming  from  a  familiar  voice  is  enough  to  make  teddy  feel  even  the  smallest  sliver  of  relief.  it's  a  voice  he  hadn't  heard  in  a  while,  not  to  the  same  extent  he  used  to.  it's  no  one's  doing  but  his  own,  with  the  heaviness  of  the  inevitable  sitting  between  them.  after  all,  raiden  had  seen  teddy  that  night  of  the  shooting.  if  there's  anyone  with  any  sort  of  connection  to  the  burning  of  the  shoes  besides  teddy,  it's  rai.  and  damn,  it's  pretty  nice  to  have  him  here.

"thanks,"  is  all  he  manages  to  mutter,  though  it's  sincere  nonetheless.  a  deep  inhale  at  rai's  question  preludes  the  pause  while  teddy  ponders  a  response.  his  gaze  stays  on  the  fire  in  front  of  them  and  he  watches  as  a  lick  of  a  flame  climbs  up  one  of  the  laces.  it's  an  excellent  question:  why  did  teddy  wait  so  long  to  say  something?  he  even  finds  himself  wondering.  it's  so  much  more  complicated  than  one  would  think:  for  starters,  the  whole  thing  was  traumatic.  it  fucked  with  his  head,  piecing  together  the  events  of  the  night  LONG  after  it  happened.  did  he  actually  see  jerry?  did  it  even  happen?  the  more  he'd  think  about  it,  the  more  he'd  relive  it  and  soon  enough,  the  effects  of  reliving  such  a  time  would  take  a  toll  on  him.  then  it  turned  into  denial,  TERROR,  until  it  demanded  to  be  at  the  forefront  of  his  mind  at  all  times  and  resulted  in  teddy  breaking  down  and  telling  kem.  it  was  downhill  from  there.

"you  knew  something  was  up,"  he  tells  raiden  and  swallows  hard  at  a  lump  in  his  throat.  it's  now  that  he  turns  his  head  to  look  at  his  front,  shoulders  slumped  forward,  eyes  exhausted,  expression  blank  as  if  his  emotions  have  been  WRUNG  like  a  towel.  "that  night?  you  saw  me.  i–"  it's  not  like  he  can  remember  much  of  when  he  saw  raiden.  "you  never..."  he  turns  his  head  to  look  at  the  fire  again.  "you  never  said  anything.  and  i  mean..."  it's  not  accusatory,  but  more  observatory.  "you  were  weird  after.  but  you  never  brought  it  up."

[scnteria]

max !

     SHE’S  CLEANING  THE  KITCHEN  AGAIN,  the  third  time  today,  when  she  hears  winnie  enter,  followed  closely  by  teddy.  «  hi,  winwin,  »  she  greets  the  dog  as  winnie  hotfoots  it  to  her,  panting  happily.  max  looks  up  at  her  roommate  at  the  promise  of  gifts.  the  old  max  would’ve  rushed  towards  that  familiar  brown  paper  bag  immediately,  zealous  and  giddy,  celebrating  every  little  aspect  of  life,  every  tiny  victory  —  chinese  food  being  one  of  them.  but  the  old  max  was  a  child.  so  now  she  simply  walks  over  with  a  small  smile,  giving  teddy  a  peck  on  his  cheek.  i  heard  you  mention  wonton  soup  the  other  day.  this  is  the  sort  of  attentiveness  they  haven’t  shown  each  other  these  past  few  months,  and  so  maxine’s  heart  swells  in  her  chest  at  the  notion  that  maybe  things  can  be  normal,  one  day.  this  is  what  home  feels  like.  «  this  is  so  sweet  of  you,  bear.  i  actually  dreamed  about  dumplings  last  night,  »  she  admits.

     smile  dies  shortly  after.  maxine  pokes  at  the  container  of  soup  before  daring  to  speak.  «  hey,  »  she  coos  softly,  «  i  know  that  was  really  hard  for  you,  what  you  did  at  the  meeting,  but  ..  i’m  glad  it’s  out  there.  i  hope  you  can  breathe  a  little  now.  »  even  if  he  still  carries  the  guilt  of  not  telling  the  cops,  so  does  everyone  else.  but  max,  terrified  of  authorities  as  it  is,  will  always  protect  teddy  over  anything  else.  the  law  has  to  simply  wait.

          A  SMILE  FINDS  its  way  onto  his  face— though  not  as  bright  as  they  once  were  capable  of,  it's  at  least  something.  it's  hard  not  to  smile  around  maxine,  after  all.  he  has  a  lot  of  love  for  her,  and  no  outside  force  could  really  put  any  sort  of  damper  on  that.  he  wrinkles  his  nose  as  she  pecks  his  cheek,  a  common  thing  between  them:  she'd  show  him  affection  and  he'd  pretend  he  hated  it,  like  a  little  kid  whose  mother  wipes  smudge  off  of  their  cheek.

his  smile  falters,  as  it  usually  does  nowadays,  when  she  mentions  the  meeting.  teddy  lowers  himself  into  a  seat  at  the  kitchen  table  and  lets  out  a  sigh.  winnie,  as  per  usual,  wanders  over  to  the  kitchen  table  and  sits  between  them,  desperate  for  any  sort  of  crumb  to  hit  the  floor.  he  scratches  absently  behind  her  ear.  "uh...  yeah,"  an  exasperated  laugh  trails  his  remark.  a  sniffle,  a  clearing  of  his  throat,  and  a  quick  roll  of  his  shoulders  is  enough  to  give  away  how  UNCOMFORTABLE  he  is  about  talking  about  it.  he  picks  up  a  fork  and  twirls  it  around  a  bit.  "uh–  THANK  you,  though.  for  saying  that."  his  lips  press  together  before  he  continues,  almost  begrudgingly.  "i  feel  a  little  lighter.  but  somehow...  shittier,  at  the  same  time."  another  laugh  escapes  him,  this  time  a  bit  more  genuine  as  he  looks  up  at  maxine.  he  shrugs.  "i've  done  stupid  shit,  and  i  think  this  was  just  the  icing  on  the  cake.  that,  or  doing  too  many  shrooms  and  having  sex  in  the  forest  and  forgetting  a  condom–"  he  pauses  and  cringes.  "-touchy  topic.  right.  sorry."

[scnteria]

chriatian​ !

christian felt bad for…well, a lot of things, but he felt he’d been too harsh on teddy during the meeting. knowing what teddy had been carrying all this time, compounded on his recollections of their halloween ‘adventure,’ it was clear he had a lot to grapple with at the moment. christian didn’t know if he’d ever bared a feeling to teddy in his life, but he wanted to make up for his harshness during the meeting, and for exacerbating teddy’s lie with his own.

“i didn’t exactly help when i told the cops jerry was around when he wasn’t,” christian supplied as an apology. he stood a few inches from teddy with his hands in his pockets, but finally dared to bridge the distance with a glance in his direction. “guess we both fucked everyone.”

          A  SINGLE  SCOFF  acts  as  a  response  to  christian's  comment  and  teddy  lets  his  head  hang  forward  for  a  moment,  the  smallest  of  smiles  lingering  on  his  lips.  it's  funny,  to  think  that  in  that  moment  when  christian  lied  about  jerry's  whereabouts,  teddy  clung  onto  the  story  like  it  was  his  last  saving  grace  before  drowning  and  yet,  here  they  were.  he  takes  in  a  deep  breath  and  looks  over  at  chrisitan.  "you  didn't  know,"  he  tells  him  gingerly.  this  much  is  true—  teddy  can't  blame  ANYONE  for  acting  any  sort  of  way  when  he'd  harbored  such  a  secret  from  them  all.  "you  were  just...  acting  in  true  christian  tibayan  fashion.  lying  to  authorities  and  trying  to  limit  the  amount  of  time  spent  answering  the  phones."  he  smirks  a  little  at  his  own  comment  and  sighs  once  more.  "if  they  confirm  it's  jerry's  body,  i'm  fucked,  dude.  we're  all  fucked."

[scnteria]

reyna​ !

“I literally came for the spare fucking set of keys.”

john does. a tattered pair of chucks. a boy with a serious dose of guilty conscience. reyna wants no part in it, never asked to be recruited into their makeshift scooby gang, covering up a secret - for what? misplaced affection in their capitalist overlord boss? stubbornness? a grand fuck you to the stuffy elitists on the town board? she came for teddy’s set of keys - and ended up staying at his side through whatever movie monologue he’s internalising. 

“speaking of which - “ hands outstretched, reyna makes a beckoning motion, patience clearly waning. she hasn’t even seen the dog - which if she’s being honest, would have been the only perk of subjecting herself to this situation. “as much fun as this swiss family robinson camping trip has been…I’m starting to feel like a dirty accomplice. And not in the good way.”

          "MAKING  UP  FOR  lost  time?"  he's  digging  in  his  pocket,  an  uncharacteristically  bitter  tone  encapsulating  his  words  that  bite.  it's  essentially  a  hurt  animal  lashing  out,  if  teddy's  even  capable  of  lashing  out.  what  does  he  have  left  to  lose  at  this  point,  anyway?  he  knows  reyna  doesn't  like  him,  so  who  the  fuck  cares?  "like  the  times  when  i  comforted  max  while  she  cried  on  the  kitchen  floor  after  she  and  christian  broke  up?  i'd  ask  where  you  were,  but..."  he  pulls  out  his  keys.  "...  i'd  also  ask  for,  i  dunno,  a  LITTLE  bit  of  fucking  sympathy  since  we  both  have  been  known  to  make  questionable  decisions  that  we  now  have  to  LIVE  with,  but–"  teddy  tosses  them  to  her.  "–guess  i  know  you  better  than  i  thought."

[scnteria]

blair​ !

STARTER FOR TEDDY. ( @scnteria​ ) 

– “HEY,” BLAIR REACHES OUT TO GRAB THE SLEEVE OF HIS JACKET, fingertips fleeting but firm in their grasp. she hates this, the serious feeling of it all – after all, she can so clearly remember times before jerry disappeared where she and teddy could have a shift together and sing at the top of their lungs, or walk home after closing, sharing a blunt. she wishes there was a way to know that you were in a good memory while it was one, so you could hold on a little tighter. 

the meeting is in ten minutes, and she stops teddy before he goes into the store. 

“ i know what you saw, ” she informs him bluntly, no credit to HOW she knows but she figures the pieces are easy enough to put together and word spreads. “ but i won’t say anything if you don’t want me to. ” 

          DREAD  TASTES  BITTER  in  the  back  of  his  throat  as  he's  heading  to  a  meeting  with  his  coworkers  about  the  inevitable:  jerry's  gone,  and  teddy's  the  only  one  who  knows  he's  probably  dead  at  this  point.  he  knows  what  he  has  to  do.  he  has  to  fess  up  and  admit  to  what  he  saw  but  it's  as  if  it'll  never  become  a  reality  if  teddy  never  mentions  it,  like  it  could  save  jerry's  life  if  he  never  utters  the  words  i  saw  someone  get  shot.

he's  completely  out  of  it,  absolutely  disassociating  when  he's  brought  back  to  earth  by  blair  tugging  on  his  sleeve.  he  stops  and  turns  to  her,  blinking  hard  as  if  it'll  help  wake  him  up.  he  takes  a  moment  to  process  her  words.  "i  know  what  you  saw."  "what?"  his  voice  is  tired,  his  demeanor  equally  so,  and  confusion  finds  its  way  onto  his  features.  "what're  you–"  a  quick  glance  at  the  store  interrupts  his  question  before  he  turns  back  to  blair.  "what're  you  talking  about?"

[scnteria]

marty !

🎸

the crackle of the fire becomes louder and louder and, somehow, the surrounding woods have never made marty feel so lonely, so… away from everything going on, as if they’re just watching themself sit by the fire, with teddy’s company a bit too far away — at least compared to how close their bodies usually are. were? marty shakes their head, wrapped up in thoughts that were not called to making an appearance, not in the midst of how fucked up everything is. even through it all, though, marty’s mind still thinks of what they and teddy have. or had. 

still, even with a crowded mind, teddy’s voice slips through and marty can’t help but turn their attention from the fire to him. she sees it all — the way he lifts his head or how quickly he averts his gaze from them after only a few heartbeats and, for a moment, marty swears they can see teddy’s inner turmoil in the way his eyes look; so different from the ones she had grown so familiar with. marty swallows, shifting on her spot to actually face teddy. i’m sorry, marty. their eyebrows furrow and, for the tenth of a second, they can hear trip’s voice reminding them they have a thing. they don’t want to say ‘it’s okay’ because it isn’t. they don’t want to say ‘don’t worry about it’ because it feels like something that will not be anywhere near possible for teddy. not at that moment. so they say nothing. their thing feels insignificant compared to teddy’s and god, they want to reach out, wrap their arms around him. words aren’t their chosen way of comforting those they care about and, right now, they wish they were. 

it’s teddy’s next words that seal the deal. “fuck, teddy,” marty breathes out, and before they can think it through, remind herself she ought to be upset with teddy for basically leaving her hanging and deal with something he had a part in by herself, they’re closing the distance between them and wrapping their arms around teddy. heartbeats pass and marty simply allows herself to be. hold teddy tightly. “i’m still pissed at you. sorta,” marty says against his shoulder, “and i should make you take a plan b and deal with that.” they try and make a joke out of it, lighten the mood, even if it’s still something they should talk about.

“you’re going to be fine. not tomorrow, certainly not the day after. or the day after that. but you’ll be fine.” 

          IT'S  THE  FINAL  thread  that  has  seemed  to  snap— all  of  this  pressure  withholding  for  weeks,  MONTHS,  it  has  finally  settled  itself  onto  teddy's  shoulders  and  it's  as  if  he  crumbles  the  second  marty  wraps  their  arms  around  him.  the  tears  burst  and  he  sobs,  instantly  turning  into  their  embrace  and  burying  his  face  in  their  chest.  all  of  this  time,  holding  it  in  and  silently  battling  a  stress  that  he  can't  even  begin  to  compare  to  any  other  feeling  he's  ever  had,  it  all  catches  up  to  him  in  this  moment  and  he's  trying  to  catch  his  breath,  chest  rising  and  falling  rapidly  as  he  does.

he's  never  been  like  this  with  marty— sure,  they're  friends.  GOOD  friends,  even,  but  she's  never  seen  him  cry.  he's  never  let  it  get  to  that  point,  besides  one  time  when  he  stubbed  his  toe  in  the  break  room  at  work  while  they  were  hooking  up  in  the  dark  but  he  SWORE  he  wasn't  crying  whilst  marty  laughed  so  hard,  they  brushed  away  their  own  tears.  god,  how  the  times  have  changed.

a  hand  moves  gently  to  the  back  of  marty's  head  and  his  other  arm  wraps  around  her.  "the  worst  thing  i  could  do  was  hurt  you,"  he  utters  between  breaths,  which  have  slowly  started  to  settle  down.  "i  never  meant  to.  you  have  to  believe  that."  he  lifts  his  head,  a  wall  of  tears  built  in  front  of  his  now  red  eyes.  a  hand  moves  to  wipe  away  at  his  cheekbone  and  he  sniffles.  "i  watched  someone  DIE,  marty.  how  am  i  supposed  to  be  fine?  i–"  teddy's  breath  is  trembling  as  he  inhales,  crackling  between  sobs.  "–i  can't  sleep.  i  barely  eat."  his  gaze  wanders  in  the  distance,  focused  on  nothing  in  particular,  as  his  expression  turns  to  one  of  emptiness.  he  sniffles,  cheeks  still  stained  with  tears.  "and  i–  i  still  hear  it  sometimes?  and  it's  like–  i'm,  like,  back  there.  and  i  keep  reliving  it  over...  and  over...  and  i–"  he  shakes  his  head.  "–i  feel...  SO  fucking  alone,  and  useless.  like  i  can't  get  a  grip  on  anything  anymore."

[scnteria]

max !

     IT  BREAKS  HER  HEART  TO  HEAR  HIM  SO  resigned,  so  clearly  out  of  it,  and  even  if  she  recognizes  this  as  an  effect  of  whatever  is  in  his  system  right  now  she  knows  teddy  —  knows  that  there’s  something  more  hiding  behind  that  thin  veil  of  whatever  his  poison  is  tonight.  the  subtle  changes  are  like  landslides  for  max,  uprooting  her  home  and  all  sense  of  stability.  if  teddy  isn’t  present,  not  completely,  she  must  also  crumble  slightly.

     max  wants  to  reach  out  and  tell  him  he’s  been  doing  his  best,  despite  not  knowing  the  challenges  he’s  been  through  —  until  suddenly  she  does  know.  teddy  finally  opens  up  and  the  string  of  words  leave  him  so  casually  that  it  takes  a  moment  for  maxine  to  even  process  what  she’s  hearing.  «  what  ..  what,  when  ?  where  ?  what  happened  ??  »  there’s  panic  in  her  voice,  an  immediate  need  for  answers,  but  the  barn,  quiet  with  slow  songs  up  until  now,  suddenly  bursts  with  life  and  a  pop  song  that  has  people  jumping  up  and  down  all  around  them  drowns  out  the  sound  of  teddy.  «  are  you  okay  ??  »

          HE  HARDLY  REMEMBERS  even  uttering  the  truth  to  maxine,  with  his  mind  so  foggy  and  disoriented.  between  the  drugs,  alcohol,  lack  of  sleep,  and  general  TURMOIL  he's  been  through,  it's  hard  to  keep  track  of  anything  that  comes  out  of  his  mouth.  he  can  feel  that  sinking  feeling,  all  too  familiar  with  the  way  it  settles  in  his  chest  like  it  belongs  there,  burrows  between  his  lungs  and  forces  his  feet  harder  into  the  ground  like  its  trying  to  keep  him  from  floating  away,  a  feeling  so  foreign  but  so  quick  to  make  itself  at  home  within  him.

max's  questions  come  out  like  a  stream  and  teddy's  pressing  his  lips  together,  shoulders  shrugged  as  he  starts  to  take  a  few  steps  backwards.  music  starts  playing  loudly  from  nearby  and  crowds  of  dancing  bodies  make  their  way  closer  to  them.  teddy's  walking  backwards  now,  gaze  still  on  max  as  he  nears  closer  to  the  groups  of  people.  "are  any  of  us  okay,  maxy?"  he  calls  out.  a  cackle,  one  that's  almost  cynical,  escapes  him  and  he  shakes  his  head,  then  turns  to  begin  weaving  through  the  crowds.  then,  to  himself,  he  mumbles:  "doubtful."

[scnteria]

jamie !

teddy’s inner turmoil goes unnoticed by jamie, who’s still processing the words as they leave his own lips. he doesn’t want to be here anymore– he wants to be alone in his room, to shut the door to everything outside and not let anyone or anything in for the rest of time. but instead he’s here, freezing his ass off in these stupid shorts and his dad doesn’t fucking exist anymore. he hasn’t existed for some time now, from the way it sounds.

“he said that jerry, uh, that he got hurt. shot,” the words come out in almost a monotone, even though jamie feels like he’s about to start screaming and puking at the same time. “right when he disappeared.” it still doesn’t feel real, so jamie turns his focus to the easier emotion: anger toward kem. “all this time he knew, and he said fucking nothing.” jamie’s fists clench, one of them still bloody in the knuckles from when he hit kem a few minutes ago. “let us look around for clues like goddamn idiots, let us think maybe jerry would come back.” he’s starting to feel dizzy, the alcohol mixing poorly with his current state of shock. “but he’s not coming back, teddy. he’s not.”

KEEP  IT  TOGETHER.  keep  it  together.  his  internal  monologue  is  pleading  at  this  point,  his  psyche  on  its  knees  begging  for  this  dark  being  to  step  back  instead  of  take  over  his  consciousness,  rid  him  of  being  capable  of  anything  but  hyperventilating  and  falling  to  the  floor.  PLEASE.  jesus,  now  is  not  the  time  to  lose  your  shit.  his  lips  part  and  concern  etches  onto  his  features  as  he  takes  a  hesitant  step  towards  jamie.  he  needs  to  be  honest.  he  needs  to  open  up  to  him.  but  can  he,  if  all  he  can  do  is  recognize  his  breathing?  "jamie–"  his  voice  sounds  so  far  from  his  body.  "hey.  we  don't..."  he  swallows  hard  and  shakes  his  head.  "we  don't  know  that  for  sure,  man."  his  mouth  hangs  ajar  as  he  scrambles  to  find  the  right  words  to  say.  he's  never  been  great  at  that  to  begin  with.  "jerry  helped  me  out  a  lot  when  i  first  moved  here."  his  tongue  glides  across  the  surface  of  his  teeth.  "i  want  him  back  as  much  as  anyone.  there's–"  he  shrugs.  "there's  too  much  gray  area.  we  need  facts,  you  know?  and–  and  we'll  get  them.  and  we'll...  we'll  go  from  there."

[scnteria]

marty !

🎸

marty chooses to actively attempt not to think about the last time she and teddy were in the woods together. instead, they shift their focus to the crackle of the firewood, the way the flames roar in an hypnotising way — but even then, their brain is going at a hundred miles per hour. with a sigh, they lean back on their hands. they hate the silence that has settled between her and teddy — and not just in that moment. a few weeks before, if someone were to tell them this is where they would be, marty would have called them out on their bullshit. “maybe it’s good that you did, in a way. if you think about it, we have a better shot at keepin’ our head above water if we actually just do shit together.” not that they would remember that the next time they decided to investigate anyone’s file — even in their mind, it’s a joke. mostly. 

they let a few seconds pass before they actually look at teddy. god, he looks terrible — tired, exhausted, really, seemingly hopeless and a ghost of the teddy marty knows. “besides, was kinda scared you’d just decide to disappear into the woods,” marty comments playfully as they shrug, trying to difuse whatever stupid kind of tension there is both in the situation and between them, “befriend the beast or something.”

          "I  JUST  HOPE–"  he  shifts  a  bit  in  his  spot  on  the  ground,  digging  his  heels  into  the  dirt  underneath  him  as  he  does.  fingers  curl  into  the  blotchy  patches  of  grass,  anxiety  twisting  unforgivingly  around  his  body.  he  sniffles  and  makes  a  point  to  avoid  eye  contact  with  marty.  "–i  just  hope  i  stop  fucking  things  up.  feels  like  that's  all  i've  been  doing."  and  that's  an  understatement:  it's  as  if  his  life  isn't  his  anymore.  it  hasn't  been  his  for  months;  a  puppet  being  manipulated  by  the  cruelest  of  puppeteers.

teddy  lifts  his  head  at  the  mentioning  of  the  woods—  it's  a  safe  assumption  that  he'd  stroll  in  and  possibly  just  keep  going,  but  he's  not  about  to  admit  to  that.  the  last  thing  he  wants  are  more  eyes  on  him  at  this  point.  he  laughs  once,  a  short  chuckle  in  the  form  of  an  exhale  through  his  nostrils,  and  his  gaze  continues  to  linger  on  the  shoes  burning  in  front  of  him.  "tempting,"  he  mumbles.  it's  brief,  the  way  he  looks  up  at  marty,  eyes  on  hers,  then  down  to  their  lips,  then  swiftly  YANKED  away  to  refocus  on  the  fire.  at  this  point,  it's  a  matter  of  picking  between  two  things  burning  to  their  demise:  his  friendship  with  marty,  or  one  of  the  final  pieces  of  evidence  from  the  night  of  the  shooting.  "i'm  sorry,  marty."  his  eyes  well  up  with  tears  but  he  doesn't  dare  to  acknowledge  it.  he  swallows  hard  at  a  lump  in  his  throat  and  shakes  his  head.  "if  it's  any  recollection,  i  mean,  if  the  bar  for  feeling  like  shit  is  on  the  ground..."  his  voice  quivers  as  he  glances  back  over  at  them  and  an  exasperated  laugh  escapes  him.  "i'm  six  feet  under,  dude."

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@mvxsinc​ !

          "I  COME  BEARING  gifts..."  teddy  makes  his  entrance  in  his  own  apartment  with  a  bag  filled  with  chinese  food  takeout.  there's  a  spot  down  the  road,  close  enough  to  walk  to  but  far  enough  to  make  it  a  decent  stroll  for  winnie.  naturally,  she  bursts  through  the  door  before  teddy,  wiggles  her  way  through  as  soon  as  he  opens  it.  she  runs  in,  tail  wagging  as  she  drags  her  leash  on  the  ground  to  rush  her  way  over  to  maxine.  you'd  think  she  hadn't  seen  the  girl  in  weeks.

he  kicks  the  door  closed  and  sets  the  food  down  on  their  kitchen  table,  then  unhooks  the  leash  from  winnie's  collar.  this  could  arguably  be  the  thing  that  teddy  has  missed  most  about  his  life  pre-jerry  disappearance:  it's  his  friendship  with  his  roommate.  they  used  to  be  so  much  CLOSER.  they'd  spend  time  together,  cook,  watch  movies,  listen  to  music,  but  now  all  of  that  just  sounds  like  an  exertion  of  energy  that  teddy  can't  spare.  now  that,  well,  all  of  the  dirty  laundry  is  out  to  hang,  it's  time  he  makes  feeble  attempts  at  rekindling  what  he  once  had,  though  there's  no  changing  their  current  reality.  "i  heard  you  mention  wonton  soup  the  other  day,  so..."  he's  opening  the  brown  bag  and  lifting  a  clear  container  of  soup,  which  he  sets  gently  on  the  table.  "there  you  have  it."

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open ! ( @volumeupdates )

          HE  THOUGHT  HE'D  feel  at  least  a  little  bit  better  after  coming  clean  about  the  shooting  but  oddly  enough,  teddy  almost  feels  WORSE.  still,  in  his  uneasy  state  of  mind,  he  had  taken  advantage  of  the  intense  paranoia  that  seems  to  have  settled  behind  his  eyes  to  create  some  sort  of  unnecessary  alibi— he's  in  a  clearing  in  the  woods,  his  neighbor's  borrowed  tent  pitched  near  the  small  bonfire  he's  created.  his  white  high  top  converse  sit  next  to  him  and  he  can  barely  bring  himself  to  look  at  them,  terrified  to  look  at  that  tiny  splatter  on  the  toe  on  the  left  shoe.  whose  blood  is  that?  he'd  stay  up  all  night  wondering,  and  he  has,  and  it's  about  time  to  close  that  chapter.

his  lip  quivers  as  he  sits  with  his  forearms  resting  on  his  bent  knees,  gaze  unwavering  as  he  stares  at  the  fire  in  front  of  him.  one  swipe  of  his  sniffling  nose  and  a  tear  drop  is  enough  to  signal  him  to  get  his  shit  together  and  in  one  swift  motion,  he  grabs  both  shoes  by  the  laces  and  tosses  them  in.  they  don't  immediately  get  swallowed  by  the  flames— they're  greeted  gently,  the  licks  of  fire  curl  onto  them  like  some  deadly  embrace.  it's  now  that  teddy's  eyes  shift  to  the  other,  only  to  refocus  on  the  fire.  "you  didn't  have  to  come,"  he  mutters.  "i  already  dragged  you  into  this.  i  mean,  i  dragged  EVERYONE  into  this.  i  didn’t  want  to  but...  here  we  are,  i  guess."

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max​ !

     AT  HIS  WORDS,  MAXINE’S  ARMS  COME  UP  immediately  to  embrace  her  friend.  it  won’t  take  the  bad  feeling  away  entirely,  she  knows  that,  but  maybe  they’re  both  in  need  of  the  shared  warmth  right  now.  the  past  month  hasn’t  been  easy  on  any  of  them.  «  okay,  that’s  alright.  we  feel  bad  sometimes,  but  it  always  passes,  »  max  reassures  teddy.  she  lets  go  of  him  and  follows  his  gaze  as  if  they’re  looking  for  someone.  or  something.

     his  next  words  hit  her  hard  —  she’d  never  be  able  to  hate  him.  «  no,  teddy  —  »  and  then  maxine  stops,  noticing  the  error  in  her  line.  for  years  she’s  been  using  his  nickname  without  fault.  teddy  is  a  testament  to the  fact  that  they  have  slipped  apart,  been  unable  to  communicate,  been  living  separate  lives  for  weeks  now  where  none  have  been  able  to  fit  the  other.  and  that’s  not  teddy’s  fault.  not  entirely  anyway.  «  bear,  »  she  corrects  herself,  wondering  if  it’s  too  late,  if  he’s  already  noticed.  he  seems  out  of  it  —  maybe  maxine  is  lucky.  «  we’ve  just  dealt  with  things  differently.  please  don’t  say  that.  you’re  one  of  my  best  friends.  »  and  she  worries,  so  damn  much,  that  maybe  she’s  missed  the  signs,  too  caught  up  in  her  own  little  storm.  «  i  haven’t  been  my  best  either.  »

          "I  DON'T  KNOW  about  that  this  time,  though."  it's  a  cynical  laughter  that  bubbles  from  his  lips  as  he  waves  his  index  finger  at  maxine's  remark— we  feel  bad  sometimes,  but  it  always  passes.  that's  the  thing,  too:  it's  hard  to  think  that  something  like  this  will  pass.  it  hasn't  yet.  it's  bound  not  to  at  this  point.  is  this  the  life  he's  succumbed  to?  just  nonstop  misery,  jumping  at  loud  sounds,  guilt  three  times  his  body  weight,  little  sleep,  and  the  only  way  to  feel  somewhat  put  together  is  by  being  under  the  influence?

"you've  been  great,  maxy."  his  words  slur  a  bit  as  he  speaks  and  places  a  hand  on  her  shoulder,  mostly  to  steady  himself.  the  smirk  on  his  lips  is  evident,  though  there's  not  much  emotion  behind  it.  "it's  just  that  the  NEW  teddy  is  a  dick  but  i  guess  that's  what  happens  when  you  witness  someone  get  gunned  down."  a  snicker  leaves  him  and  he  lifts  his  hand  from  her  shoulder,  only  to  bring  it  to  his  face.  he  drags  down  for  a  moment  and  sighs.  "i  missed  you  calling  me  bear,  though.  reminds  me  you  don’t  hate  me  all  that  much.”

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jamie !

everything about jamie feels heavy. his breathing, his eyes, the way he walks away from kem with no discernible direction, just knowing he has to get away. rage and disbelief twist inside him like knives, each one competing to make the deeper cut. what the fuck is he supposed to do now? where is he supposed to go? what’s he supposed to say to anyone now that he knows what he knows? he channeled his initial anger into kem, but it just made everything feel worse. it’s too much, he has to get away, he has to–

“what?” he responds to teddy, not processing a single word his friend just said. jamie looks up at him, one of the last people he would’ve sought out right now, and knows this is going to make him explode if he doesn’t say it to someone else. might as well start spreading the news, right?

“jerry, uh, jerry’s dead,” he blurts out unceremoniously, the words feeling numb on his tongue. he uses jerry’s name because he can’t bring himself to say the alternative– my dad���s dead. no. absolutely not. “at least, he probably is. he got shot, a couple months back. right when he disappeared. kem just told me.”

          IMMEDIATELY,  HIS  MIND  is  racing  so  fast,  he  can't  keep  up  with  it.  his  emotions  are  all  over  the  place,  twisting  with  each  other  until  he  can't  decipher  what  he  feels.  sick  to  his  stomach,  like  he's  about  to  pass  out,  horror,  unadulterated  HORROR  at  how  this  came  about.  this  is  no  way  for  someone  to  find  out  about  the  demise  of  their  father,  even  if  it's  not  100%  confirmed.  teddy  hasn't  been  thinking  rationally  for  a  while  at  this  point,  he's  not  about  to  start  now.

"what?  what  are  you–"  his  brows  furrow  and  he  turns  to  face  jamie,  someone  he's  utterly  terrified  of.  jesus,  he  fucked  this  guy  over  so  badly.  he  fucked  everyone  over.  KEM  JUST  TOLD  ME.  "what?"  he's  a  broken  record  at  this  point.  his  heart  sinks  as  if  it's  heading  right  to  the  earth's  core.  "what  did  kem  say?"

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