#I mean we see him get backhanded in the first 10 chapters of the book so

[shadowhandss60]

Those “throw away” quotes where Dorian mentions his physical abuse from his father REALLY hit different after THAT chapter of Kingdom of Ash

[that-one-gay-girl]

The Book Store - Ch. 1

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 1351

Summary: One evening Y/n’s life is threatened and she makes a decision that change her life, for better or worse she has yet to find out...

Warnings: domestic abuse, violence 

A/N: My first Sam series! I’m so excited to write this series! Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list!

Pulling the roast out of the oven you sing along softly to  ‘Silent Night’ as it plays softly throughout the house. Cutting up the meat and putting it into the fancy china dish you can’t help but smile as the snow continues to fall. It truly would be a white Christmas this year.

You’d loved snow since you were a child growing up in vermont. Now you lived in Montana with your husband, he was the police chief in your town, adored by all. If only they knew what happened behind the walls of this house. Hearing a car door shut outside you quickly glance at the clock realizing your husband will walk through the door any moment.

Pouring a glass of whiskey quickly you walk into the living room to greet your husband as the door opens.  “Welcome home honey, how was your day?” you ask with a wide smile as he hangs up his jacket.

“Work was work, arrested the bad guys and saved the city” he grabs the drink from your hand walking into the dining room. “Food ready?” he grunts.

“Yes, I made your favorite roast and that chocolate cake you love” you respond as you bring out the dinner, dishing his food first.

Dinner is quiet for the most part, as you dish cake onto his plate he grabs your wrist tightly. “You think I’m stupid? Think I don’t know when you try to talk to other men huh?!” he screams at you

“Chance please, I don't know what youre talking about. I haven’t been talking to anyone.” You cry as you hear a snap in your wrist, pain radiating throughout your hand.

Backhanding you, he stands up, hovering over your fallen body. “You think my boys won’t tell me when they see my wife being a whore at the grocery shop!” red faced, he kicks his foot into your abdomen repeatedly.

Pained screams leave your mouth as you try to get away. “You think it's going to be easy for you? You are going to regret everything you little bitch!” Grabbing the knife from the roast he plunges it deep into your leg. “I think it’s time for some...training” He says with a sick grin. As he drags the knife down your leg.

His large hands wrap around your throat tightly choking you as you gasp. “Please!”

With fear racing through your mind you manage to kick him making him stumble back. You kick him once more as you cough gasping for breath.  He falls to the ground with a pained groan the hell of your shoe stabbing into his cheek. You take the moment to jump up, running out the backdoor into the cold snow as blood runs down your leg.

“y/n! Get back here!” his screams echo through the neighborhood as you continue to run ducking into an alley between houses. Going into a backyard you recognize you crouch down behind the fence as police sirens wail past you.

You wait for another 20 minutes in the freezing cold, shivering, bleeding on the cusp of unconsciousness when the backdoor of the house opens. You recognize Jo Harville as she runs out looking worried. “Oh my god. y/n! Are you ok?!” She shoots questions rapidly.

“Help.” is all you can manage between shivering gasps. Helping you into the house she sets you on the couch wrapping blankets around you and starting a fire. She grabs a first aid kit quickly stitching up your leg and wrapping your wrist.

“My mom works on the force with your husband, should I call him?” she asks cluelessly.

“No!” you panic sitting up. “Please...he did this to me, I need to get away” you beg as tears fall from your eyes

“I know a friend who lives down in maine. You could stay with her for a while…”

-2 days later-

Since Jo had found you hidden in her backyard she had done everything possible to help you, she stitched you up, helped you get a train ticket to Maine and dropped you off at the station. You’d even gone as far as to cut and dye your hair, hoping not to be recognized.

After two days traveling by train you’d finally arrived at the station in Maine, looking around you see a woman with dark hair holding a sign with your name. “Are you Eileen?” you asks

“That's me” she responds with a smile, helping you gather your bags and she guides you to her car. “You’ll love it here.” Driving down the small towns streets Eileen points out different buildings to you, trying to make small talk.

It only takes another 10 minutes for Eileen to pull into the driveway of her house, you grab your small bag following her into the house. “I can stay somewhere else, I really don’t want to be a bother” you tell her quickly.

She smiles at you softly, “Jo told me what happened...y/n i know we just met but i want you to know you will never be alone, and i'm here for whatever you need” you nod slowly as tears build up.

“Thank you, I promise I’ll get a job and help out” you tell her as she shows you your room.

“Just take it easy for a bit, get used to the town and everything. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.” She closes the door softly as you sit there taking in everything, thinking about everything that's happened to you in just two short days. Laying down you close your eyes, hoping they don’t open for a long time.

-1 week later-

Since you’d arrived in Maine you mostly kept to yourself only leaving your room when necessary, you were terrified your husband would find you, but Jo would text you if Chance knew anything. It was that small piece of knowledge that had you walking down the snow covered street as you wondered around town. This was the first time you’d stepped foot outside of Eileen’s since you’d arrived.

You were freezing and had been walking around the town for a while. Stopping on the street you smile as you see a small bookstore with a sign in the door advertising free hot chocolate. Opening the door you step inside shaking off the snow from your body. A small smile creeps its way onto your face at the smell of old books.  

Stepping further into the shop you find the hot cocoa, pouring yourself a cup as you browse. Too caught up in browsing the books on the shelf you don’t hear the heavy footsteps behind you.

“Miss? Is there something I can help you find?” A deep voice asks kindly.

Startled you jump in your own skin, hot cocoa spilling onto your hand “Shit! Thats hot!” you set the cup down quickly holding your burned hand.

“I'm so sorry, i didn’t mean to startle you” The mysterious man replies grabbing napkins for your hand. As his hand brushes yours you step back quickly, afraid.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you” you say quickly looking down.

“Really, it's me who should be apologizing. I can’t tell you how many times I get lost in a book” he chuckles. “I’m Sam winchester, the store owner.” he holds his hand out for you to shake

When he notices you don’t reach for his hand he drops it, “Can I help you find something…?” he asks

“Y/n, and no I'm just browsing” you say quietly.

“Well if you need anything just let me know, otherwise enjoy the books” he smiles softly as he goes and sits back behind the counter.

Finding a book you like you sit down on one the couches reading the book as you sip the rest of your drink, unbeknownst to you, a certain shop keeper can’t keep his eyes off you.

Sitting behind the counter he can’t help but notice the bruising marks peeking from behind your scarf and the splint on your wrist. Something happened to you and it leaves an uneasy feeling with Sam.

Chapter 2

Sam/Jared Taglist: 

@hobby27​

[dershloopmain]

End Of Everything - Chapter 1

‘’Hey, Donnie! What’s the big idea, I was watching that!’’ Raph yelled as his brother clicked the remote, changing the channel from a cartoon he was watching to the news.

‘’Stop whining Raph, apparently, something big is going up there. April thinks we should check it out.’’ Donnie replied, rolling his eyes.

‘’Then go topside and have a look! It was just getting interesting too,’’ Raph took a dive for the remote, attempting to rip it out of his hand, failing miserably.

‘’Hey stop it you big baby,’’ Donnie said pushing Raph back with his foot, ‘’I’m trying to listen. You can watch whatever you want in a minute.’’

‘’Whatever,’’ Raph said defeatedly, slumping back in the chair and folding his arms.

‘’Oh my god…’’ Donnie said, causing his brother to look up confused. Then, he saw it.

‘’Leo, Mikey get in here!’’ Raph yelled, unable to take his eyes off of the news anchor.

‘’What’s the matter Ra-’’ Leo stopped, mouth open as he too became transfixed on the news report.

‘’What are you doing dude? Why are you just standing there like a-’’ Mikey was the last to realise.

Raph felt a pit open in his stomach. He wasn’t sure if he was going to hurl or cry as he listened to what the lady said.

‘’News just in: Over 1000 people have contracted the parasite, with the numbers rapidly rising. The people in the zombie-like state cannot hear you but have incredible eyesight so stay hidden at all costs. Do not try to interact with them, as even just a minor scratch could cause you to contract it and turn into one of those things. If you’re out on the streets, we here at CNN implore you to immediately seek shelter. There are emergency bunkers if you can not return home quick enough and if you can arrive home, lock the doors, border the windows and do not answer the door to anyone outside of your household. We will keep you updated.’’

‘’Oh my God,’’ Donnie repeated, his shoulder sinking and his leg bucked, causing Raph to fall onto the floor. Though he didn’t shout. Didn’t curse. Didn’t get angry. He stayed silent, besides a small ‘oof’ as he hit the floor, jamming his shoulder.

‘’I- What are we going to do?’’ Leo said quietly, walking over and sinking down next to Donnie.

Raph felt a pit open in the base of his stomach. What were they going to do? What about in 10 years? 20 years? 30 years? Did it even matter? Would they even survive? So many unanswered questions swirled around in his mind, a feeling of nausea overcoming his senses.

‘’I’m not sure,’’ Donnie replied softly, still unable to pry his eyes from the TV screen, ‘’We could leave the city? The farmhouse should be still available.’’

‘’I don’t know. Too risky.’’ Raph said from the floor.

‘’Riskier than staying here? New York is a huge city, Raph there are millions of people here. If they see us then there’ll just be more hysteria.’’ Leo said solemnly, a strange look on his face. A look Raph had never seen on his brother before. It was fear. Genuine, pure fear. It contorted his facial features in such a strange way it nearly scared him too. But he wasn’t scared. He couldn’t feel anything, it was disturbing. Sure, the situation was strange and he was mildly uncomfortable with Leo’s facial expression but… he wasn’t scared. Just nauseous. His head was pounding, which didn't help either.

‘’I don’t know I’m just thinking of the long term. Millions of people means millions of stores right?’’

‘’Yeah and millions of infected and millions of raiders. They’ll be nothing to raid. From the looks of things, people are already panic buying. Sure, they can get more stock but long term that’ll just mean more people hitting the stores for supplied when this whole thing gets out of hand.’’ Donnie chipped in, looking down at his T-phone, quickly tapping out messages to god knows who.

‘’Don, you’re great and smart and all but why the hell are you playing with your phone at a time like this?’’ Leo said sternly, looking over at his younger brother who was still looking down at his phone.

‘’First of all, thank you and second of all if you hadn’t noticed there’s a zombie virus currently taking over new york and assumably the world. I’m asking April and Casey if they and their families are ok.’’ Donnie said smugly. Raph smirked. At least one of them was coping well with this.

‘’I don’t know… I agree with Raph. It’s not like the farmhouse has a whole lot that we don’t. Besides, we’re pretty safe down here. Even then we could make some kind of topside stakeout. Like, convert a store or something. Then we can have a ton of supplies AND multiple backup plans,’’ Mikey said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Everyone stared at him in disbelief.

‘’Wow Mikey that’s… actually really smart,’’ Donnie said with a grin. Raph and Leo nodded in agreement, smiling at him too. Mikey smiled back, rubbing the back of his head bashfully.

‘’I don’t know guys it’s not that smart,.’’

‘’It is though! Only April, Casey and a few mutants know we exist so it’s not like we have a high chance of infection. We also have plenty of food and resources down here and miles of sewers to hide in if needs be. Then, when we run out of supplies here in New York we can just go to the farmhouse. There’s that little store that had the weird dream book right? I doubt anyone will hit that. Even then we have chickens there and miles of woods. Food won’t be that hard to come by right?’’ Donnie elaborated, smiling proudly at Mikey.

‘’See little brother?’’ Raph chipped in, ‘’You aren’t a total screw up!’’ Mikey rolled his eyes. ‘’Thanks for the backhanded compliment bro.’’

‘’Any time.’’

‘’So… what do we do now?’’ Leo said, his eyes shifting around to every possible exit or entrance.

‘’I don’t know. Casey said his dad and sister were on their way to the hospital while the outbreak was happening. Turns out she was bit and uh… turned on his dad during the car ride. April said her dad was getting groceries and hasn’t heard from him in nearly 24 hours so she’s not exactly in a good state either. Should we pick them up and bring them back here?’’ Donnie said sadly, looking down at his phone. Evidently, no matter what anyone said he would bring them back to the lair so they all agreed.

‘’More heads may equal more mouths to feel but it also means more hands for supplies so yeah, why not,’’ Leo said with a shrug. Raph was unable to shake the eerie feeling Leo was giving him.

‘’Uh and they’re our best friends? Cold much Leo?’’ He said angrily. Even during the apocalypse he was still so… he wasn't sure but it was nothing good.

‘’Sorry for trying to think logically about the situation Raph. God even during the apocalypse you still won’t let anything I say slide will you?’’

‘’Nope,’’ Raph smiled sweetly.

‘’Good to know. On that note, you can go with Donnie to fetch April and Casey. Mikey and I will stay here to start prep the lair and try to figure out what food and supplies we need.’’ Raph rolled his eyes but nodded, standing to get ready to leave, when he heard a noise.

‘’Raph!’’ Donnie was shouting at him. Why did he keep shouting his name?

‘’What?’’ He responded, confused as to why he was even shouting. He was right next to him?

‘’Raph!’’ He shouted again, louder this time.

His eyes opened and Donnie stood over him, glaring. Great. Another stupid dream.

‘’What?’’ He said groggily, sitting up and stretching out his limbs, chasing away any fleeting relaxation sleep brought.

‘’Leo told me to wake you up. It’s your turn to do the supply run.’’

‘’It was my turn to do the supply run last week’’ Donnie shrugged. Raph sighed and got out of bed, grabbing his sai and bandana, wrapping it tightly around his eyes. The more he thought about it all, the worse he’d feel so, as per usual, he pushed it to the back of his mind and got ready to leave. Pulling his knee and arm pads on he took a deep breath, getting ready to face his older brother.

Slipping through the door, making sure his gear was all secure, he glanced at the large, decaying armchair Leo was sitting in, looking down on him. Nothing miraculous had happened overnight, he hadn’t changed. Raph wasn't sure what he’d expected to be honest. Nothing had changed over the last 6 months so why would it now? Leo’s eyes settled on him. Raph let out a small breath, praying Leo hadn’t heard it.

‘’Raphael, I trust Donatello has told you you’re duties for today?’’ Leo said flatly, his face unchanging.

‘’Duties? He told me about the supply run but nothing else.’’ Raph said, trying to keep the air of annoyance out of his voice but, as per usual, failing.

‘’Your duties are not only your supply run, but there’s a break in our defences. I want you to take Casey with you to check it out and make sure there’s no infected inside the barricade. Then fix it.’’

‘’That’s a four-man job, Casey and me can’t do that alone I-’’ Leo cut him off with a stern glance. He knew what would happen if he continued like this, so he shut his mouth, ‘’Fine.’’ Clenching his fists, he walked out, making sure to not slam anything. He knew what would happen if he did, and he didn’t feel like facing that punishment again.

Raph walked to Caseys room and poked his head around the hung blanket that served as a door.

‘’Case? You up?’’ Raph said, stepping into his friend’s room.

‘’I am now. What’s up?’’ Casey said with a yawn stretching his arms out.

‘’I gotta go on a supply run and Leo wants you to help me fix some ‘hole in our defences, ’’’ Raph said mockingly.

‘’So you want me on your run too?’’

‘’Possibly.’’

‘’Shoulda just said so bestie!’’ Casey said, jumping up from his mattress on the floor. Raph groaned and rolled his eyes.

‘’Stop it. We gotta go soon or Leo will throw a tantrum,’’ Casey winced. He knew what Leo could be like if he got mad and didn’t want to be on the receiving end of another ‘’tantrum’’ as Raph put it. Raph saw Casey’s calm and fun demeanor deflate before his eyes and he felt his own disappear too. That's what happens when your older brother is a tyrant he supposed.

‘’You got it,’’ He replied, beginning to pull on his own protective gear over his muddied and bloodied clothes.

Once they got to the surface, they breathed in the fresh air. Raph had to admit, a zombie apocalypse wasn’t ideal, but the pollution levels were lower than ever. The air smelt so… clean and that’s one thing he never thought he’d say that in New York.

It’d been 6 months since the world had been overrun by the infected, and 3 since the hierarchy had been ‘established’. By established, he meant enforced. Leo was at the top, then Donnie and April, then it was Mikey and Casey. Last but most certainly least it was him. Something had changed in Leo in the last 6 months and Raph didn’t like it, not only because it meant he was the one having to risk his life for the rest of them, but also because he just wanted his big brother back. The big brother that could take a joke and care about him, even if he was a complete ass sometimes. The big brother that had his back, no matter what. The big brother he once had once known though, was gone. He let out a sigh, one that didn’t go unnoticed by Casey.

‘’What’s on your mind man?’’ Casey said, slinging his splintering bat over his shoulder.

‘’I don’t know. Just fuckin’... Leo man. He’s so up himself but I’m genuinely worried. This entire thing is getting to his head seriously. You’ve seen how he’s been? On top of that, he’s been such an ass to me. It’s always me doing supply runs and me risking my shell just to get some more stuff for everyone. It’s not even like we need it! We have plenty in the sewer. Besides, I don’t think he even cares that much. He’s so cold I just… I miss my brother ya know man?’’ Raph lowered his head, refusing to let this moment of emotion overtake him.

‘’I know dude,’’ Casey said, looking away too, ‘’I just… it’s hard. I don’t even know if my sister is still alive. Well to an extent. What if someone… you know. Same with my dad. Gotta admit, this whole zombie apocalypse thing totally blows a lot more than the movies and tv shows made it look.’’ He wiped his gloved hand over his eyes, sniffing slightly. Raph looked over, his face falling.

‘’Hey man, c’mon,’’ He said softly, wrapping his arm around his friend’s shoulder, ‘’I’m sure they’re fine. We’ll find them and save them, no matter what. Donnie’s working night and day on the cure and has been for months, it can’t be long now until he has it working!’’ Raph said encouragingly, shaking Casey a little. He let out a small, less enthusiastic laugh.

‘’Yeah I hope so,’’ He looked up and smiled at Raph, something behind him catching his attention, ‘’Hey we’re here,’’ he said, pointing over his shoulder to the small corner store. They were surprised it hadn’t been hit initially, considering how open and obvious it was, but to be honest, they weren’t complaining.

‘’What do we even need anyway?’’ Casey said, pushing open the door.

‘’Shit if I know. I think we’re running low on some first aid stuff so we could just grab some of that. We could also grab some more luxury stuff like candy or something.’’

‘’Ooo yeah sure. Sounds good. April was saying she was getting bored, I’ll see if they have any stationary stuff. Then D was saying he needed more coffee so I’ll get that too. Anything you want me to grab you Raph?’’ Raph thought for a second before replying.

‘’Nah I’m good. I was gonna get Mikey some gummy bears or something so I’ll see if they have anything good.’’

‘’Suit yourself,’’ Casey said, crossing his arms behind his head and scanning the shelves with his eyes, looking for what he wanted.

Raph walked over to the register and looked behind it, his eyes wandering to a jar full of gummy animals. Mikey would love that. He walked behind the register and snagged it from the shelf, tucking it safely into the bag slung over his shoulder.

Suddenly, a noise came from the backroom. Something… falling? He looked over at Casey to see if he’d heard it too. The panicked look on his face told him everything. Raph motioned for him to be quiet as he pulled his sai from their position at his waist and slowly walked towards the closed wooden door. Twisting the handle ever so slowly, he peeked in, scanning the darkroom for signs of movement. Raph smirked and turned out, looking at Casey.

‘’All clear. I think we’re going stir-’’ Raph was cut off as he was yanked back into the darkness, only able to let out a small yelp before he came crashing to the ground.

‘’Raph!’’ Casey yelled, taking a running jump and throwing himself over the counter towards the door, pulling it open all the way.

‘’Get off me you freak!’’ Raph yelled, pushing the infected away with all his might, but it was persistent, snapping and lurching towards him. Casey swung his bat in a downward arch, pushing it further towards Raph.

‘’Dude! Away from me! Not towards you dumbass!’’ Raph screamed, pushing the creature back off him as it clawed and lurched forward again, taking him by surprise. He let out a yelp as he pushed it back again.

‘’Sorry man!’’ Casey shouted back, this time using his bat to scoop the thing off his friend, throwing it into a corner and beginning to bash its already decaying head in.

‘’You ok Raph?’’ Casey asked, looking over his friend before taking his hand and helping him back to his feet.

‘’Yeah,’’ He said, gulping air down, ‘’I’m alright.’’

‘’You didn’t get bit or scratched or anything?’’ Casey said cautiously, his eyes scanning Raph cautiously, taking a couple steps back.

‘’Not that I know of. He had a good go at it though, I’ll give him that.’’ Casey snorted, slinging his bat back into his backpack.

‘’Let’s just get what we need and get out of here. Probably attracted more with your girly screaming.’’

‘’Who are you calling girly Jones? You screamed way more than I did,’’ Raph said, punching Casey on the shoulder.

‘’We’ll call it even.’’

‘’Shit! The gummies! I hope I didn’t smash the jar when I fell back. Mikey’d love those,’’ Raph said, pulling his backpack around his body and opening it, checking the jar was fine.

‘’I just gotta grab Red something. I’ve got the coffee and stuff so we should be good to go.’’

‘’Yeah. I’ll probably grab some chocolate or something. See if Leo wants any.’’ Raph walked over to the chocolate selection on the counter. Though sparse, there were some decent choices. Grabbing a couple of crunchie bars and snickers, he stashed them away in his bag and checked he had everything. Only his sai where missing. He must’ve dropped them when he was attacked. Jumping the counter, he swung the door open again and saw them in the middle of the floor, the once cleanly wrapped handles decaying, the perfect shiny metal scuffed and marked, on the verge of rusting. He sighed and picked them up, looking back over at the zombie that lay on the floor, its brain splattered on the tiles. The grey-green skin was eerie but… so human. Raph wondered if he had been the owner of the store before all this. Most of his lower body was gone, it seemed to cut off just above his pelvis. It was nearly disturbing… but after 6 months of this, you get desensitised to the excessive violence.

‘’You ok man?’’ Casey said behind him, startling him out of his thoughts.

‘’Yeah. I'm good. Lets… just go home.’’ 

[bazypitchandsimonsnow]

The Black Swan

Chapter 10

Rating: T

Genre: Angst

Word count: 5117

Chapter: 10/17 (All chapters)

Summary: Simon knows he has to talk to Baz. But that doesn't make it easier.

Read on AO3

AN: Please don't hate me for this chapter. Also I am freaking the fuck out about the Wayward Son cover, I'm so excited!!!!!!!

———————————————

Simon had been standing just outside the invisibility barrier for an hour. He kept walking away then coming back. Away, back, away, back, over and over, until his feet had left deep impressions in the dirt. His emotions were a tangled mess he couldn’t understand. There had been a pit in his stomach since this morning.

The second they had gotten back to the castle, Simon had told David he was tired and went to his room. Simon spent ages sitting in his room, shaking with panic and fear. His whole world felt like it as collapsing in on itself. Baz knew now. Baz knew he was a prince, and worse, he knew Simon hadn’t told him. Simon had no idea how Baz was going to react. The very idea of Baz having a negative reaction made his chest so tight he couldn’t breathe. It was miracle he had made his way out of the window tonight without falling into another breathless panic. He was terrified.

Which was why he was standing just outside, hand tight on his rucksack strap, terrified of what he would see when he walked through.

But he was home. And he wanted to see Baz, no matter what.

So Simon stepped through.

He scaled down the tree roots and hit the ground with a thump. And when he looked up, Baz wasn’t standing and waiting for him like the time before Simon left. He was sitting on the ground, far away, back towards Simon and facing the lake. His black hair blew soft in the wind. He didn’t move. Simon knew Baz had incredible hearing, so he had to have heard Simon. But he wasn’t turning around.

“Hi, Baz,” Simon said weakly, “I’m back. From the west.”

“I saw,” Baz replied. His voice was colder than frozen tundras. Simon shivered and pulled in on himself.

“Yeah. I, uh, saw you too. You go to that pond often? I’ve never seen you there before.”

“No.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The silence fell again. Simon found it strange how completely reversed their roles had become. How Simon, known for his lack of words, was saying so much and Baz was saying so little. And that said so, so much more.

Simon walked aimlessly around the ground. “I-I didn’t know you’d be there.”

Baz scoffed. The sound pierced Simon’s heart. “Obviously.”

“I didn’t even want to do that procession. It’s stupid. But my guardian he-”

“Simon,” Baz hissed. He finally turned his head. A deep scowl pulled on his mouth, and fire burned in his eyes. “Enough dancing around it. Fucking admit it.”

Simon gulped down the lump in his throat. His knuckles were white on the rucksack strap. He looked down at the ground, because looking Baz in the eye when he said it was too difficult.

“I’m...I’m a prince, of Watford,” he said.

“A prince?” Baz asked. “So there are more of you royal spawn?”

“N-No, just me. I’m the only prince.” He stepped forward. “Baz, I’m-”

“So you’re the heir then.” Baz said it matter of factly, but there was a hint of derision that made Simon flinch. “You’re going to get the entire bloody kingdom one day then, yes?”

Simon rubbed at the back of his neck. “I mean, yeah.”

“So you’ll be ruling over everyone one day? Technically including me?”

“Yeah, I guess...” Simon didn’t like to think about ruling over anyone, let alone Baz.

Baz chuckled, low in his throat and menacing. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the strands back. “Wow. I honestly never would have pinned you for a prince. Simon, who stumbles over his words and finds Natasha Pitch’s books boring, is going to be king. May the gods save Watford. It’s bloody doomed the second you take the throne.”

Simon physically flinched. It wasn’t anything he didn’t know, but it hurt to hear. Especially from Baz. He thought he was safe from all his royal crap in the lake. Not anymore.

“Baz, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know I should’ve told you-”

“You’re damn right you should have,” Baz snapped. He finally stood up. His scowl didn’t lessen, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “I should know when my dueling partner is a prince. That way I won’t risk spilling his royal guts out on the forest floor and having my head cut off.”

“We spar with sticks,” Simon muttered.

“Well, scratching a prince would get me the same execution sentence.” He chuckled again, and it still wasn’t happy at all. “I should’ve guessed, really. All the clues were there. Overprotective ambitious father, surprising amount of good books, unrealistic made up childhood story.”

Simon’s head snapped up so fast his neck hurt. “What!? I didn’t make up stuff about my childhood!”

Baz snorted and looked to the side. “Sure, the heir to a throne used to be a poor mistreated orphan. I always thought it sounded a bit off even when I thought you were common or a social climber, and now it all makes even more sense. You were making it up to appear lower class and relatable to me. Is your common accent fake too?”

Simon vigorously shook his head. “No! T-This is how I sound! And I did grow up in an orphanage! I was left there when I was only a few days old!”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?!” Baz’s eyes were like daggers. He marched towards Simon with clenched fists. “I’m supposed to believe that someone who wears an embroidered tunic and golden crown while riding through the streets on a white horse grew up like that? When it’s far more likely he just told me some made up a sob story to make me think he could understand anything I was going through?!”

Simon stumbled back. He had never seen Baz so angry. He had never seen anyone so angry. But worse than anger, Simon saw the way Baz’s eyes and lips quivered. He was hurt. Simon had hurt him, and that was so unbelievably worse.

“Baz,” he said softly, “I do understand.”

“How?!” Baz roared. “I live alone in a fucking lake, spending my days as a bird, forced to eat fucking worms to survive. You live in a bloody castle getting waited on hand and foot all day! Tell me, what part of our lives are at all similar?!”

Simon rubbed his own forearm furiously. “Well, uh, I-I feel alone too. My guardian, the king, he keeps me away from all my friends a lot. I only get to see you because I sneak out of my tower.”

Baz rolled his eyes dramatically. “Oh poor you, being alone in a huge castle, with lots of food and servants, not having to worry if your captor is going to finally kill you the next time he comes around!”

Simon lowered his head. “I-I guess I don’t get that part. But I can still be sympathetic.” He took the smallest, the most cautious step toward him. “I can still be here for you. I want to. I want to break your curse-”

“Is that what this is about?” Baz narrowed his eyes very suspiciously. “Is that why you came back here to see me the second time? Why you come back at all? You hate your restrictive privileged prince life, so you get a little reprieve by wrapping yourself up in my mysterious curse.” He snorted unkindly. “No wonder you were so eager for us to study it. You liked the adventure, not me. You never cared.”

“What?! What, no! That’s not it! Of course I care, I-” Simon stumbled back again, a hand on his forehead. He didn’t think Baz was right at first, of course. But...maybe he did have a point. Simon wanted to be a hero, not a prince, sure. At least, he had at the beginning. Now he was pretty sure he just wanted to help Baz be free. Because he truly cared for Baz, not just his curse. Right?

Baz scoffed. “I should’ve known. What normal person would want to see a cursed teenager in a lake all the time? No, just a weirdo ‘adopted’ prince who wants to escape his oh so dreadful royal duties with a little mystery.” He turned around and walked back towards his lake. “Like you could actually understand what hardship is.”

Simon’s blood instantly boiled. He threw his bag to the ground, fists clenched, and marched towards him.

“Hey!” He shouted. “That’s not fair! Just because my life isn’t as shitty as your’s doesn’t mean I don’t know what hardship is! My childhood, i-it was one horror after another.” Baz scoffed, a recurring sound for him tonight. Simon growled, grabbed his shoulder, and forced him to turn around. “Look at me, arsehole! I got left at an orphanage when I was a baby, with nothing but the basket I came in and my name written on my arm. I slept in a filthy bed for eleven years. The older kids liked to kick me in the stomach and head for fun. The matron once backhanded me so hard my jaw was nearly came off. It took me years to learn to speak properly. I didn’t say my first word until I was six! I’ve been taking care of myself s-since, practically since I was fucking born!”

“Poor you, the tragic prince,” Baz muttered.

Simon started seeing red. “Yes! Poor me! My life wasn’t as shit as yours is now but that doesn’t mean you get to dismiss it, you self pitying wanker!”

Baz clenched his fist even harder. “But you’re royalty now. You have a perfect life.”

“It’s not perfect! It just sucks in a different way, you know that. And I’m only here because-” Simon sighed angrily and ran a hand over his face. “Y’know why King David adopted me? Because when I was eleven, I had a dream that I was on fire. When I woke up, the building was blown to pieces. And I was in the middle of all of it. My skin was glowing too. Turned out my magic had appeared in a really explosive way. I had somehow...transported everyone away, but I didn’t know that at first. I-I thought I had killed them. Everyone I knew.” Simon pressed against his forehead. He hadn’t talked about what happened since he told Penelope and Agatha when they were thirteen. The memories still stung.

“The matron,” he whispered, “she called me a curse and threw me on the street. I slept in a dirty drain for five days, fucking alone and hungry and freezing to death. I nearly died. Then I woke up one morning, and the king was standing over me. He told me I was going to be a prince. So of course I went with him. I was homeless and fucking eleven. I thought I was finally going to be a hero like in my storybooks. But it turned out I’m horrible at real prince work. And David doesn’t give much more of a shit about me than the matron, really. I’ve always been respectful because he took me in, but honestly, you're right. He’s a prick and I’m just something useful to him. And, well, I’m not even that useful. I’m a shit mage and an even shittier prince. You already know half of that. My life is just being a constant disappointment. I-It’s not as bad as you, but it’s still not good. I never lied about that.”

Simon finally looked up. And his heart shattered, because Baz’s face was completely blank.  There was not a single emotion on his stupid pretty visage. That was even worse than him being angry.

“I-I should’ve told you all this, Baz, I know.”

Baz leaned down closer, so close their noses almost touched. But Simon didn’t like it this time. “But you didn’t,” he growled. “You lied to me.

“I never actually lied!” Simon shouted. “I just, left out some parts.”

“And that’s supposed to be better?!” Baz threw his arms up. “You deceived me, Simon. You let me think you were someone different. You made me think you actually cared about me!”

“I do, Baz!” Simon stepped closer. He cautiously placed a hand on Baz’s face, tracing a thumb over his beautiful cheekbone. Baz didn’t push him away. His eyes even fluttered shut, nearly leaning into the touch. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I do care. And I still want to see you.”

Baz took a deep breath, his chest slowly inflating and deflating, eyes squeezed shut. Then they opened And when that bored mask slid over his face again, Simon’s heart shattered in his chest.

“Well,” Baz said as he pushed his hand away, “I don’t.”

Simon’s arm fell limp to his side. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. “Please, Baz. I-I care, I want to help you get free!”

Baz crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t want your help, Simon. I don’t want to see you ever again.”

Simon stepped forward, and Baz stepped back. “Please, Baz-”

“Go,” Baz hissed. “Just, go. ”

When Simon reached out, Baz didn’t even try to do the same. Simon felt the tear roll down his cheek. It felt like a trail of fire his skin.

“I’m sorry, Baz, I’m so sorry. Please don’t do this. I-I have something. I can brea-”

“I don’t care what you have to say, Simon. It’s over. Just leave, and don’t come back. I don’t want you here ever again.” He turned away, letting Simon only look at his stoic back. “I was fine on my own before. I don’t need you. You can go.”

Baz’s voice was so cold, so void of any feeling. Like Simon and everything between them was meaningless. Simon’s sorrow quickly turned to anger. He clenched his fists and glared daggers into Baz’s back.

“Fine!’ he shouted. “Be like that! I won’t come back. Be alone forever, for all I care. Enjoy your lonely cursed life, Baz!”

Simon stomped away, scooping up his rucksack as he went. He scaled the wall with furious urgency. And he didn’t even turn back to look at Baz.

But the moment he was beyond the glamour, alone in the quiet woods, the despair settled in his heart again. Simon took a deep, shaky breath. It felt like the ground had opened up under. Everything had just fallen to pieces. Simon didn’t want to be alone right now. And there was one place he knew he needed to go.

———————————————

Simon banged on the door lightly at first. He knew Mr. and Mrs. Bunce were out of town, and most of Penelope's other siblings were at Mage’s School. Except for the youngest, who slept so heavily a bear attack could happen and he’d still be in dreamland. But no one responded. So he banged harder and harder, loud enough he barely heard the steps coming down the stairs.

Penelope ripped the door open. Her hair was disheveled and her robe wasn’t even done up. She looked furious, then it shifted to more confused than anything.

“Simon?” she hissed. “What the Hell are you doing here?! It’s the middle of the night!”

Simon opened his mouth, but no words came out. They clogged up his throat and tangled his vocal chords up so the only sound he made was a choked sob. Penny’s face immediately fell. She stepped forward and grabbed his foreman.

“What’s wrong, Si? Are you okay?”

Simon tried to speak again, and this time, all that came out were tears. Penny immediately wrapped her arms around him. He pressed his face into her shoulder and held her tight. She stroked his hair softly.

“It’s alright,” she whispered. “Whatever it is, it’s alright, Simon.”

“No,” he sobbed. “It’s not, Pen. I fucked up, I fucked up so bad.”

Penny’s grip got tighter. “Are you in danger?”

“N-No. I just, I-” Simon pulled back to look at Penny’s face. She looked so scared and confused. Simon took a deep breath. “Can I come in? I’ve got a lot of stuff to tell you. Stuff I should’ve told you awhile ago.”

Penny still looked confused, but she nodded and let him inside.

———————————————

The silence hung in the air like a thick fog. Penny had been gaping at Simon for a full ten minutes. Simon was pulled in on himself opposite her, cradling his tea cup with a blanket around his shoulders. He wanted to say something, but thought it was probably let Penny process all this on her own first. He had told her, well, everything, and it was a lot to take in.

“Okay,” she finally said. “Wow. That’s just...wow.”

“Yeah, I know,” Simon replied.

“So you’ve been meeting with a mysterious cursed teenager in the middle of the woods for months?”

“Since we explored the Forbidden Lands, yeah.”

“He really turns into a swan during the day no matter where he is?”

“Yup. Second the sun breaks the horizon, he changes. We had a close call after...almost kiss at the solstice festival.” Simon felt the blush creep up his face and saw a smile creep up Penelope’s. He didn’t want to hide anything from Penny anymore, but it was definitely embarrassing to say, for a second time. “We barely got out of sight before the the sunrise.”

“Mhm, I see.” Penny raised a brow. “‘Kaz’ instead of ‘Baz’? Nice pseudonym there, Si.”

Simon chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know. I was put on the spot. I-I wasn’t sure if I could tell you his name.” A wave of shame hit him. He sunk further into the couch. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him before, Pen. Baz didn’t want anyone to know about him. He barely tolerated me knowing for a long time. And it’s not that I don’t trust you. I just...I didn’t want to break his trust. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” she sighed. “I’m a bit upset, of course, but I understand why you did it. You were protecting Baz from that man.” Simon nodded. She leaned closer, elbows on her knees, eyes curious. “He’s been keeping Baz in that lake for how long again?”

“Since he was five. And he’s been cursed since he was thirteen.”

“Wow. Do you have any idea why the man imprisoned and cursed him?”

Simon shook his head. “I’ve been more focused on just breaking the curse than finding out the reason.” His face twisted again, heart sinking to the floor. “Baz, h-he was right, honestly. I don’t care about him. I just liked being the hero who saved him.” He wiped the fresh tears falling onto his face. “I’m a total prick. No wonder he never wants to see me again.”

Penelope sighed. She put down her tea and crossed over to the couch. She opened her arms and Simon fell into her embrace again. He was pressed against her tight. Simon was never hugged as a young child. He knew he had missed out on a lot growing up, but he really felt that loos when Penny held him like this.

“You’re not a prick, Simon,” she said softly. “Sure, maybe you did get caught up in the mystery of it all. You like adventure. But of course you care about him as a person too.”

“How do you know that?” Simon mumbled into her shoulder.

“Because you care about everyone, Si. You’re one of the most kind, selfless people I’ve ever met. You want to save and protect all the people you can. Your heart is so big it scares me sometimes. And I have no doubt you cared about Baz just as much. Maybe even more, considering how much sleep you lost for him.”

They laughed, quiet and tired and brief. But the sadness quickly settled over Simon again. He wanted to believe her. But after tonight, with Baz’s angry words swirling in his head, he couldn’t. He burrowed further into his friend. “I should’ve told him I was a prince.”

Penny let out a long sigh. “Yeah, you should’ve.” She looked down at him with confusion. “Why didn’t you, Si? Wouldn’t Baz have understood?”

“Maybe. But...” Simon took a deep breath. He tried to sort through the tangled mess in his brain, stringing them together into something reasonably coherent. “B-But, I didn’t want him to know. I...I-I don’t like being a prince, you know that. Baz never had to know. With Baz, I could pretend I wasn’t one. And it was good. No bowing or royal duty talk or-or pretending I had to be t-tiptoed around. And I liked it! With Baz I felt...”

Simon tried to find one word to summarise his existence with Baz. How their time together made him feel. The nights with Baz his only reprieve from living as a constant disappointment to Davy and Watford as a whole. With Baz, he was happy, content, excited, relaxed, so incredibly at peace with himself for the first time in his life.

“Free,” he choked out. “I felt free with him, Pen.”

Penelope held him tighter and petted his hair. More tears fell down his face. They wouldn’t stop tonight.

A terrible thought crossed his mind. He squeezed Penny’s arm. “Not, not that I don’t like being with you, Pen. You’re my best friend. I don’t know, I-”

“Shh, Si,” she said, “it’s okay, I understand. No matter how much I don’t care about royalty, I still know you’re a prince. I can’t change that. Baz didn’t know at all. You could fully be yourself with him. That must’ve been wonderful for you. You really liked being with him.”

“I really like being with you too,” he mumbled. It felt almost childish to say. But he felt he had to, because he didn’t want Penny to feel less.

Penny chuckled into his hair. “I know, thank you, Si. But being with Baz is different, right? And not just because he didn’t know you were a prince. Being with him felt more intense and incredible. Even if he did something someone else does, it felt very different.”

Simon looked up at her with his brow all pulled together. “Y-Yeah, exactly. How do you know that?”

Penny smiled kindly at him. She pushed a curl out of his eyes. Simon had never had real family growing up to counsel and comfort him. But if he did, he supposed they would treat him like this. He liked it a lot.

“Because,” she whispered. “I have Micah. I know what being in love feels like. And I’m very sure you’re in love too.”

Simon inhaled sharply. The words hit him right in the heart. He had thought about love ever since reading Swan Lake, of course. But every time he considered it, his brain fell into a whirlpool of complicated emotions and fears and past trauma. Simon didn't understand his own feelings. He never could, even with the curse at stake. Which made him feel even more useless. He lowered his head and shrugged.

“I don’t know about that,” he mumbled.

Penelope barked out a laugh. “Simon, you sacrificed many good night’s sleeps to see him, spent ages trying to find a way for him to get free, obviously greatly enjoyed your time with him, and you said you almost kissed him at the festival, remember? If all that isn’t being in love, I don’t know what is.”

Simon honestly had no way to refute that, because he was sure he’d never been in love before. He thought he had loved Agatha, but after that ended so quickly, he realised how wrong his feelings were. He knew then that he had absolutely no idea what being in love was. But Penny did, and she might be right about him too. She knew a lot about a lot of things. Her words cut through a lot of the mess in his mind. And honestly, if Simon was going to be in love, Baz was someone he could see himself with. At least, he could if Baz didn’t hate his guts right now.

He pressed his forehead even further into Penny’s soft robe, hoping it would stop his muscles shaking so terribly. “Pen, if this is being in love, does it always hurt so much?”

She rubbed slow circles in his back. “Not usually. But I won’t lie, sometimes it does.”

Simon groaned, the sound coming from deep and low in chest. “Love is terrible.”

Penny chuckled softly, her breath brushing against his skin. “It can be, Si.”

He wiped away some more stray tears. “I don’t know what to do now, Pen. I was going to tell him about the curse and now hates me and I don’t know how I can fix this with him. He told me to never come back, and I...I said such horrible things to him. I was so awful. Even if I do love him and could break the curse, would he even want me to? I-I don't- I just can't- ” His eyes scrunched up in mental anguish. Penelope held him tighter.

“Well,” she sighed, “I don’t think you can come up with anything reasonable like this. You need to rest.”

Exhaustion started to truly seep into Simon’s bones. It had been a very, very long night. He knew he should go back to the castle, but he didn’t want to be there. That wasn’t where he felt at ease. And he needed a lot of ease right now

“C-Can I stay here?” he asked quietly. “Davy’s been holed up in his study since we got back. He probably won’t notice if I’m gone.”

“Of course you can, Simon.”

He smiled against her shoulder. “Thank you.”

They slowly pulled apart. Simon kept the blanket wrapped around himself as they walked up the stairs. Penny got Premal’s room when he moved into the castle, and she now had the largest bed other than her parent’s. She didn’t hesitate to pull Simon onto the mattress with her. It wasn’t weird. They used to both sleep in Simon’s enormous bed back at Mage’s School when Penny couldn’t take Trixie and Keris’ snogging anymore. Simon was alone in his single room a lot. He liked having a roommate every once in awhile.

So when he laid down next to Penny, it felt normal and familiar, and he felt a bit better. Penny pulled the thicker blanket on top of them. Simon felt her hand tap his. He grabbed it, weaving their fingers together under the covers.

“It’ll be okay, Si,” she whispered. “I promise.”

Simon was already slipping into sleep, too tired to actually respond. But he squeezed her hand. And she squeezed back.

———————————————

The toy in his child hands was small but complex. He was trying to to geometric pieces into a coherent shape. Simon didn’t understand it himself. But whoever’s hands he had instead of his own were much better at it. The chubby fingers manipulated them with ease they shouldn’t have at this age. Simon felt the balsa wood, but it was the ghost of a sensation, like he was underwater and a million miles away.

Soon, the small hands finished his puzzle. It became a perfect sphere made of tiny jagged pieces. The little boy let out a little sigh of disappointment. Distantly, Simon was aware that this child was sad to have nothing left to do. He looked up around his room. It was large and grand. The aura was dim, little light coming in the small windows. All the furniture was dark wood and far too tall for someone so short, looming over him like almighty gods of dead trees. Red tapestries fell down from the ceiling. Simon knew there was a symbol on it, but he couldn’t quite make it out. It was hard to focus on something so specific. Details weren’t clear, muddled in the invisible fog of the dream.

He stepped out of his room, toddling a bit on his young feet. The boy walked directly into a wall of soft white cloth.

“Oh, hello,” a sweet, familiar voice said. “Are you done with your toys, little puff?”

The boy looked up. The woman looked like a giant from his perspective. Her face was small and far away, but obviously kind. And that nickname she called him, Simon didn’t know it, but the boy did. He’d heard before from his mum. That was her cute name for him, she used it all the time. So others used it as well.

“I’m bored,” the little boy said, voice high pitched and whiny.

“Don’t you have your toys?” the woman asked.

“I’ve used all the toys.” He fiddled with his tunic. It had a surprisingly elaborate design for someone so young. “Where’s Mummy? I want her to read to me.”

“She’s probably in her study. But she’s very busy.”

Simon felt the boy’s mouth pull into a pouty frown. “Is she too busy for me?”

The woman kneeled down, at level with the boy. Her face was close, but it’s details were distant. But Simon simply knew she looked kind.

“No no, little puff,” she cooed, “not at all. She’s just-” The woman sighed. “You know, you should go see her. Go say hello to your Mum. You would be a welcome break from her work.”

The pouty frown turned into a wide grin. “Okay!”

The boy dashed off, out of the room and down the hall. It was familiar to the boy, but also familiar to Simon. He’d been here before. Tall, boring, lined with pictures and red banners. And the boy looking for his Mum.

“No,” Simon wanted to shout, “get out of here, run, you have to run. Go before it-”

The fire exploded behind him, and the boy screamed as he was engulfed in flames.

———————————————

Simon bolted upright, like he had on many, many nights. He tried to control his shaky breathing and burning magic. He couldn't destroy Penelope's house, he just couldn't. He heard a grumble next to him. Right, there was Penny, laying next to him and still holding his hand. Her grip grounded him back in reality. His magic died down, the glow of his hands receding.

It was still dark outside the window. Simon knew he had barely slept a few hours. As the fear from the nightmare slipped away, the memories of what happened tonight started to creep back into his mind like an oncoming storm. Simon wasn’t ready to to deal with that again yet. So he laid down, pushed everything from his mind, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

———————————————

AN: Well, if it wasn't already clear who the dreams were about, I think this makes it pretty obvious lol. And yeah, shit is bad right now, I'm sorry :( It was hard for me to write but it's necessary for the character development and the plot. Also I know Baz's attitude and views seem really different to canon, but in my mind it was because he was raised completely differently. He's not an Old Family son here, he's an imprisoned orphan who's been alone in a lake for fourteen years. So he would be the more disadvantaged one compared to Simon, not the other way around like in the book. It's a weird role reversal from canon where Simon is the more privileged one and Baz is railing against his wealth, I guess. Idk this is how it worked out lol. Next chapter will be up Thursday baring any complications (aka my horrible health lol.) Brb gonna go freak out about the Wayard Son cover some more haha. See you guys soon :D

[ficdirectory]

Disuphere (An AU Fosters family fic) Chapter 40

CHAPTER 40

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Missing: 2 years, 6 months and 23 days

“I wrote about you in school today.  No real stuff.  I say you’re my cousin and we hang out,” Josh said as he pressed his back to the other side of the pole.  Jacob’s chains dug in.  It really smelled Down Here.  Josh was shocked that He hadn’t let Jacob shower yet.

Jacob wanted to not talk today.  His eyes were blank.  His face was purple from a bruise.  The rest of him was hurt bad, too.  He didn’t even want to eat today.  But he was listening.

Because when Josh taught him how to write a word with his leg, Jacob started moving his under the towel.

Josh spelled Mom and Mama and Mariana and even Brandon, just for practice.  In the distance, Josh thought he heard a car drive up.  He hurried to get rid of the towel.  To get Jacob looking like he had when Josh found him.

Even though he was glad Jacob was getting better at disappearing, Josh didn’t like to do the tape and the hood when he was like that.

“Bro?  Are you in there?  It’s Josh.  I gotta do this,” he whispered urgently.  “I love you.  Stay alive, okay?”

The voice was faint, but it was there:

“Okay.”

Tape.

Hood.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

Missing: 2 years, 7 months and 14 days

When Josh asked about when Jacob was going to get to go to school, He laughed.  Then, He backhanded Josh so hard that he flew across the room.

“You must think I’m an idiot…” He sneered.  “Like I’d risk sending you two dumbasses to the same school.  I mean, I get why nobody notices you, but that one’s still got the face and the eyes.  Hasn’t lost the pathetic look yet.  Nope.  He’s on the pole until I decide otherwise.  Now get your ass over here.  You gotta give me something to pay me back for your total stupidity.”

Josh stood and let it happen.  The living room was different.  Josh focused on the wall.  On Cookie Land, where he hadn’t needed to go nearly as much since Jacob got here.

He went to work late, but He did go, which meant Josh could sneak down and check on Jacob.  He smuggled down some Pop-Tarts and grape soda this time.  (Always better to go with leftovers from his own lunch than to raise suspicion by having extra food go missing around The House.)

Josh fed Jacob Pop-Tarts and soda, even though Jacob said he didn’t want them.

“You do, too, want them.  You can’t stay alive without food.”

“Why bother?” Jacob asked.  “I’m never getting out of here.”

“Listen, I never told you this...but my mom...she’s a cop,” Josh said seriously.

“Really?” Jacob asked, a little interested, finally.

“If anybody can find us, she can,” Josh said firmly.  “And plus?  He literally just told me this.  He’s afraid people will recognize you.”

“Great, so I’m in more danger....” Jacob mumbled.

“No.  He’s afraid.  He says all the time being afraid makes us dumber, right?  So, all we have to do is wait.”

“For what?” Jacob asked, a little curious.

“For Him to make a mistake.”

Monday, May 10, 2010

Missing:  2 years, 8 months and 3 days

“What day is it?” Jacob asked, as soon as the tape was off.  It was a thing he did now that he was feeling a little better about life.  (The idea of Him making a mistake had made Jacob’s eyes seem brighter.)  

“May 10th, 2010,” Josh reported.  (Jacob liked it when he included the year.)

“My birthday,” Jacob breathed.

“No way…” Josh said, shocked, feeding Jacob bites of his peanut butter sandwich.  “Mine’s next week.”

Jacob inhaled the rest of the sandwich, and looked confused.  “I thought your birthday was in March?  He took you to that stupid movie, right?”

“That’s my fake birthday.  The one He gave me.  My real one’s May 17th.  You’re turning twelve, too?”

“I’m twelve today,” Jacob said, stunned.  Glancing down at the dirty towel covering him and the chains, he shook his head.  “I’m twelve and I’m stuck here.”

“Well, then we have to celebrate.  We know He’s not gonna do anything special.  Nothing you actually want, anyway.  Hold on.  I got an idea!”

“Stay alive!” Jacob called at Josh’s back.  “Josh!  Stay alive!”

Josh couldn’t help it.  He grinned.  “Not yet, but yeah, of course.  Stay-alive-love-you-bro.  Now do you want your present or not?’

“I’ll get in trouble.  He won’t let me keep anything.”

“Dude.  He’s not gonna take it away.  He’s not gonna see it.  We’re gonna eat it before that happens.”

Before Jacob could protest again, Josh booked it upstairs and looked in the cupboard, where he knew all His secret snacks were.  There were so many, there was no way He would miss the twin chocolate Hostess cupcakes.  Josh crammed the package in his shirt pocket and closed the box and the cupboard.  Then he gave The House a careful once-over before going back downstairs.

“Happy birthday,” Josh said, whipping the cupcakes out of his shirt.

Jacob’s eyes lit up for real.

“Not exactly birthday cake, but…” Josh apologized, unwrapping the first cake and offering it for Jacob to eat.

“No…”  Jacob’s words were muffled as he tried to talk around the chocolate.  “It counts!  I say it counts!”

Josh offered the other, and to his surprise, Jacob shook his head.  He was getting to look sick-skinny, not in the position to turn down food.

“No.  We share.  That one’s yours.  For your birthday.  I can’t get you a present so...” he nodded.

Josh blinked.  He had gotten to go to a movie.  Had popcorn.  A soda.  It wasn’t a movie he’d liked and it definitely wasn’t with a person he liked but it was so much more than one cupcake chained in a basement.

“I had a birthday already....” Josh argued.

“Yeah, but that was your fake birthday.  This is for your real birthday,” Jacob said, certain.

So even though he felt awful about it, Josh ate the cupcake.  And he thought.  When the cupcake was gone (in two seconds), Josh asked:

“If you could have anything for your birthday, what would you want?”  (Josh had given Jacob what Josh thought he’d wanted, but the truth was, he really didn’t know what Jacob wanted.)

Jacob thought for a while.  “I’d want to get a message to my mom,” he said, finally.

Josh pulled a pen and a notebook (Science - He would never look there) out of his backpack and opened to a blank page in the back:

“What would you say?” Josh asked seriously.  “I’ll write it down and keep it safe.  Then, when He makes His mistake, I’ll give it back to you, so you can give it to her.”

Jacob swallowed.  A tear escaped and then another.  He really did feel stuff super deep.

When he started to speak, Josh was ready.  He wrote:

Dear Mom,

It’s me.  How are you?  I miss you a lot and I think about you every day.  I think the day might be coming soon when I can go home.  My friend, Josh, is helping me write this letter, so that’s why the handwriting looks different.  Josh also keeps asking me how to spell words because he says he wants it to really look like I wrote it and you know I am a good speller.  Anyway, I want you to know I’m doing okay.  Josh is here, so I’m not alone.  He looks out for me.  So, please don’t worry.  I love you more than anything ever.

Your son,

“Isaac?” Josh asked.

“Yeah.  That’s my real name.”

“Oh.”  Josh said.

“What’s yours?”

(Cold.  Click. Black.)

“Josh?” Jacob was calling.  “I said it’s okay.  You don’t have to tell me.”

“He’ll shoot me if I say it again,” Josh admitted, his voice blank and heavy.

“Then don’t,” Jacob insisted.  

Josh breathed.  Tried to focus.  To come back from whatever level he was on.  But being Down Here was so hard.  The smell alone made him want to gag.  He was surprised Jacob could stand it.

He met Josh’s eyes with a steely determination.  “If I don’t get out of here...I need you to give that letter to my mom.”

“We both will get out,” Josh said fiercely.  

“Okay but if I don’t.  Promise me you’ll do it.  Please, Josh.  You’re the only one who can.”  (Josh hated to even think it, but He was right.  Jacob had those eyes.  Eyes that made you agree.  That made you act.)

“Yeah, okay, I promise.  But no matter what?  If I get out, you’ll get out.  And if you get out, I’ll get out,” Josh said.  “No matter what happens, we’ll be with each other.”

Jacob nodded.  “Hey, He seemed a little weird today.  Maybe you should leave early?  Just to be safe?  And take the wrapper.”

“Right,” Josh shoved it in his shirt pocket.  He hesitated at the towel.  “The least He could do is let you wear some damn clothes…”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jacob lifted his chin.  (He doesn’t think he’s strong, Josh thought, but he is.  Stronger than me.)

“Hey.  Keep an eye out for that mistake, okay?  I love you, bro.”  Josh held the tape in his hand an extra second.  They weren’t done.  “I’m so sorry I keep doing this, but I don’t want Him to see anything different.  To hurt you worse.”

“I get it.  Love you, too, bro.  Thanks for my birthday.”

Josh nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat.  “Stay alive?” he asked.

“Stay alive,” Jacob echoed, his eyes shining.

Tape.

Hood.

Lights out.

No keys.

No boots.

But He came home twenty minutes later - four hours early - with a stomachache.

It was a good thing Josh listened.

[devilsknotrp]

Congratulations, Cee! You have been accepted for the role of Zeke Hawker (FC: Jack Dylan Grazer). This was another really tough decision, and we truly thank the both of you for your applications! We love how deeply you got into his mind, his likes and dislikes, his snarkiness balanced with a touch of insecurity and a dash of healthy egotism. He’ll be a delight to have running around town! Please have a look at this page prior to sending in your account.

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name: Cee Age: 20 Pronouns: She/her Timezone: GMT+10 Activity estimation: I’m currently studying full-time again, so I should be able to post IC every 2-3 days easily, depending on my muse. Even if I’m not writing, I’m usually able to be around to plot almost every day! When I know I’ll be pressed for time due to deadlines or exams, I’ll request a semi- or full hiatus. Triggers: N/A

IN CHARACTER

Full name: Ezekiel “Zeke” Hawker Age (DD/MM/YYY): 13 (07/01/1983); Capricorn sun, Gemini moon, Libra rising Gender: Cis male Pronouns: He/him Sexuality: N/A Occupation: Student Connection to Victim: Brian was one of them. He has no idea how such a quiet kid managed to weave his way so easily into an already tight-knit group, but it happened. Zeke wonders if it was because of him being in the same baseball team introduced Brian to the group. Whatever it was, he’s never found himself doubting whether Brian could be part of the friendship – and he doubts plenty of things. Alibi: Zeke was watching the other baseball games. With his game finished (and most of it spent sulking on the bench with Brian reluctantly lending an ear), he’d chosen to stay a while longer that afternoon. Sometime between the matches, he’d made a quick trip down to the Piggly Wiggly with ten dollars he’d mooched off Abel for candy and chips with a few other kids on his team who were still around. At around four-thirty he picked up his bag, shrugged on a crewneck and walked home from the pitch. A teammate’s parent offered him a ride home, and he gratefully took it. He was dropped off at the front doorstep and went straight inside. Faceclaim: Jack Dylan Grazer

WRITING SAMPLE

“Nope. That’s not it.”

Dust motes float languidly around him in the muted daylight that spills from the attic window, stagnant in mid-July air. A hand retreats from the cardboard box he’d finished rifling through, a messy stack of books and trinkets set back in their rightful place. To find a hint, anything about his parents, shouldn’t have been this hard to find. This was a trope of every movie; people kept unwanted things in the attic, not the basement. Too predictable. He thinks so, anyway and although this was real life and not some Spielberg blockbuster, it was close enough. Zeke had forgotten about the graze from another failed skating attempt that spans the base of his knee when he kneels down to store it away. A slight wince crinkling his face, he pushes it back to the spot on the boarding that’s a stark brown against the thin grey that covers the floor. Like nobody would know he’s ever been there. He dusts his hands on his shorts, but not before he’s rubbed his face and splutters from a cobweb across his nose. “Gross.”

Over cereal that morning, he’d asked again. Over a sugary bowl of whole milk-laden Cheerios, Abel consumed by today’s newspaper and soft radio masking the quiet that settled over the house, he wondered if there was anything else to be told about his mother or father. And just as his grandfather always did, it was a stock-standard answer of no, not really, there’s nothing remarkable to tell. As if he hadn’t missed out on the ordinary things already. And besides, isn’t it much more worthwhile to focus on the present?

“Focus on the present, my ass,” Zeke mutters to himself now, free arm outstretched to tear away a frayed edge of packing tape run across cardboard. In heavy marker, the next box is labelled 1971. A good decade before he’d come into existence, kicking and screaming. “Huh.” With limited options for company, it’d become nothing short of normal to talk to himself. Small comments of wonderment as he came across a particularly impressive fact in a book. 

Backhanded remarks as he resigned himself to watching The Bold and the Beautiful when nothing exciting was on television. Once, while they watched television after school, Josh had said he bugged out for doing that, laughter mingling with the taunt. Whatever. You try living in a giant house with just your grandpa, Zeke retorted. The Sunday visits Josh came along for were far different from living there week in, week out. Sundays were warm and bright. Cheerful, even. Once that rolled past, it fell back into the same monotony of school and baseball and homework, all tied together neatly with a rigid lights-out by nine sharp. To focus on the present was a joke.

A soft tug pulls the tape away easily. It’s left crumpled up beside him, gathered together in his fist before being dropped to the floor. He’s hasty to uncover the contents. Just like the last one, it’s packed meticulously. Like Tetris. The cover of the top photo album is worn in one spot, thumbed over by countless hands. He’s careful when he lifts it out and sets it on his lap, even more gentle with the plastic covers that run over the already faded photos.

So he sets to work. He’s learned to search out that face, the same way he skim-reads the chapter of a book assigned for reading he’s put off until the night before. Even if the only reference he relies on is faded, the photograph tattered and dog-eared in one corner from being stuffed in his jacket pocket to show his friends, the features are clear as day when Zeke pores over the images one by one. The disappointment’s sour in his mouth when he’s gone through it with no luck. The photos are beautiful, filled with smiling memories and yet, all devoid of his parents.

Beads of sweat across his upper lip, cotton shirt glued to the spot between his shoulder blades, another hour passes of searching through the storage boxes. He gives up eventually, when he’s graced with that same unpleasant taste. Mingled with that, though, is something else. An idea that perhaps there’re better places to look than right under the nose.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Zeke equates knowledge with adulthood. Maturity. Being a grown-up with a monotonous office job, fibre cereal and the drone of a television. Or used to. Brian’s disappearance has confirmed his suspicions – that it isn’t quite the case. The cops figured out who snuffed Phillip Silverman all those years ago pretty quickly, right? Or so some of them claimed. So, why’s it so hard to put a finger on who kidnapped Brian? The manhunts have gone on drearily, ended with no real certainty. Nobody’s a step closer to finding his friend. All grown-ups seem to do about it is croon in gossip over a diner booth table or spare an infinitesimal glance at the Crime Stoppers posters plastered on each utility pole downtown. He’s become distrusting, and quick. Whatever valiant spearheading people take up of the manhunt and the newfangled mystery of Brian appears self-serving. That there’s a few brownie points to score for next Sunday’s service, or a nice spot on the front page to print their mug across for stumbling across the next clue. If grown-ups cared, what reason is there to be so hush-hush when he asks questions? Zeke doesn’t want to think only the worst will happen. But if the adults are getting nowhere, he’s brought it up in hushed conversation with his friends that maybe, maybe, there’s a better chance of them getting to the bottom of it.

It’s well-known that Zeke isn’t great at making friends. Scratch that – he’s awful at it. Was his father, with all those vices, like that as well? It isn’t that kids don’t want to be friends with him because of his admittedly unconventional family. Whose only parent is their grandpa? But that’s never been so strange to set him apart far enough to be the black sheep. Jealousy has kept him from making friends. Until he reconciles with the fact, he supposes there’ll always be a quiet anger simmering at the back of his throat. It’s an uncomfortable sensation that makes its home in his chest, knowing that he won’t have a mom or dad to take (somewhat reluctant) photos of him on a birthday, on the first day of school or at a family gathering with a scowl plastered to his face. Those are things he’ll never be able to replicate, with Abel occupied by work and the belief that rules in place of his company are enough to raise a kid. He’s long become familiar with that yucky twinge when kids mention their families. He’s never had the luxury of saying My mom took me to go watch Independence Day in Lansing last weekend, or Hey, my dad came to see me score in little league, isn’t that cool! No, it’s been quiet admissions of frustration to Andrew when Abel has skirted a question on his father with the same lacklustre, manufactured answer journalists get when they shove a microphone in his face for the millionth time. To have answers is an itch he constantly finds himself having to scratch.

Apparently, his name means “God will strengthen”. Impressive. Except he despises going to church, enough to almost call himself an atheist, though he’s uttered a prayer or two in the last week when the worry really gets to him. Please, God, find Brian. Keep him safe, bring him home. It’s a nice way to swallow the nerves down, but not much else. He’s more interested in picking up a science book rather than the Bible, adamant about his excuses to weasel his way out of Sunday service but the effort is often pipped every time. Elaborate stories are quickly becoming his new forte. They’re just not quite good enough to get him out of that scratchy button-down and slacks too short at the ankle from his last growth spurt. At least he doesn’t have to go to those prayer groups Abel attends. While he can chalk it down to tradition and old habits, he’s never quite understood why Abel’s put much of his time and energy into it. He’s funny about it, too. Not funny as in it’s an innocent hobby, but funnyfunny. Funny where, if Zeke holds him up with a badly-timed question right as he’s about to step out the door or makes an offhand (and most definitely deliberate) remark that he might as well live at the church with the group, his face becomes stony. While he has quietened down about it, as far as his grandfather’s concerned, he’s determined to ask around elsewhere.

Sometimes, Zeke entertains the idea of asking if he can live at Ken and Aisha’s house. It makes sense. Their car often rumbles in the driveway to pick him up for school or to take him to a county fair. It feels much more familial. He worries that he’s a burden on Abel, that he’ll never properly connect with him as a son should. He’s come home with a busted lip and bruised pride from smart-mouthing bullies enough times to make anyone sigh with exasperation rather than concern. It’s not as if resisting the status quo at home, rules laid down like the law, helps his case either. His uncle and aunt’s home is welcoming. Smaller and cosier and warmer, always filled with chatter or laughter or radio. Abel’s house is huge. Silent, most of the time. When bad weather’s in, the windows rattle and wind shrieks around the corners, making it feel far emptier than it already is, which is no easy feat. To busy himself, Zeke got into the habit of reading and video games. Once he’d mowed his way through the fiction in the reading room, he quickly became hooked on non-fiction. There’s a haphazard stack of books on his bedside table at all times, switched out every week or so. He didn’t mind playing Actua Soccer for a while, until it reminded him of just how terrible he is at sport. Zeke likes to pick up new hobbies. It’s given him a wealth of new knowledge; new facts to ring off. Or when he needs to prove a point. He even tried to skate for a while. Eventually, he got sick of the bruises and grazed knees and Andrew’s bemused remarks. From stargazing to photography to origami, it’s a good way to pass the time.

When it comes to music, he’s pretentious. Zeke considers himself an indie aficionado – he’ll go for an underground station rather than the commercial pop garbage that plays on the radio. Most of his mixtapes are painstakingly curated, filled to the brim with Pavement, Mazzy Star, The Cure, Soul Coughing. Weird stuff. It’s made him consider picking up music, save for the fact that he can’t carry a tune to save himself. Tone deaf, that’s it. He won’t dare admit that he doesn’t understand half of the songs, lacking the life experience to even do so, but he’ll certainly make it seem like he does.

He has no idea why he keeps on with baseball. Most of his time at practice and games is spent cracking jokes and trading interests with Brian on the bench, ignoring the tinny sound of a bat and the shuffle of feet, the cheers from onlookers. Coach says he’d be good at the game, only if he paid attention. Deep down, Zeke has an urge to master everything. It distracts him easily. New things pop up to command his attention and in the blink of an eye, he’s moved on. He’s not scatterbrained, though. Just selective. He knows where to allocate his time. Ideally, he wants to be a jack of all trades, well-rounded and good at school and sports and small talk, though he hasn’t gotten any of them down pat. Too much of a smartass for teachers to really like him, too clumsy with his motor skills that he drops the ball half the time, enough lip and a tendency to curse that makes most kids reel, his friends included. But he’s trying to be better. It’s a quiet effort; one that won’t happen overnight. He cares about his friends deeply, even if it is masked by a habitual urge to squabble and brazen ideas that elicit eye rolls rather than impressed gasps. One day, though, he’ll come up with something good. Something spectacular.