My Brothers, Corrupted
Book Five: Section Seven
Jackie and Marvin have a rough time of things. Henrik comes back towards the surface, at least for a minute. Masterlist
Tws for self-hatred, past abuse, suicidal and depressive ideation, and Marvin lashing out at the audience. Tws may not be completely exhaustive - keep in mind the heaviness of the fic and look out for yourself.
Thank you to @lehhoh7822 for taking the time to compile this book!
Anonymous asked:
Happy birthday Jackieboy! How goes the end of the ballet? Or are they not quite there yet?
He pants in the darkness of the alley, his hood over his head. He flexes his fingers. Stretches his neck. Spits.
“Yeah,” he says lowly. “Apparently that one doesn't turn out so well in the end."
At his feet, a trio of bodies. He turns and walks away, shaking blood off his hands.
Got to get the anger out somehow.
Anonymous asked:
Jackie what happened?? What did you do?
“What? They’re the ones who picked a fight.” He strikes the wall beside him, hard. “Drunk fucks.”
And if he went to a bad part of town in the hopes that somebody might provoke him, that’s nobody’s business.
Anonymous asked:
Aww Jackie. I'm sorry the play wasn't pleasant and upset you. But can I ask why you needed to beat up three people over it? Did something happen?
“They were hollering at some girl. I handled it for her. I did good. I stopped it. I did!”
He shoves his hands in his pockets and trudges home, kicking at rocks.
Anonymous asked:
There are healthier ways to punch things, JBM. Considered buying a punching bag or joining a gym? Martial arts lessons? Just anything but beating up strangers unless you suddenly like the idea of jail.
“Not the same rush,” mutters Jackie, eyes dark. “He spent so long teaching me to be his killer. Learned to like the adrenaline. The control. He would always be so proud of me… and I guess I’m just fucked up enough to enjoy the power of it.”
He stares down at the ground as he walks.
“Do you remember when we all went back in time, and Marvin told me what a hero I was? And how I was a good big brother and they all loved me? I want to be that person again. I’m trying to be Jackie. But there are parts of me that will always be Red, and I’m not sure I can handle that. There are parts of me that will always be scarred by him. No matter how much I heal.”
He kicks a stone. “I just want to go home. I shouldn’t have done that. I know. I was angry before. It made me feel better, that’s all.”
Anonymous asked:
Heroism is not random acts of vigilantism, Jackie. Heroism is self sacrifice for the good of others. You don't need to pick fights to be a hero again.
“I like picking fights, though,” he says. “I’m his little killer. It’s the only thing I’m good at. Fights and tech. I can’t even make Blue smile anymore.”
Anonymous asked:
Ah yes, "all you're good at" as though you haven't been brave and powerful and strong for months now purely for the sake of your brothers, as if you havent been sacrificing every part of yourself for the good of their health and safety. You're still more of a hero than you ever were a killer.
That makes him smile a little, playing with his hands.
“They deserve better. That’s all.”
Anonymous asked:
How'd the ballet go Jackie? Also, Blue is going to need your support and encouragement when you get home, he's not doing well, and you're the only person he seems to feel like he hasn't hurt.
“What? What’s wrong with him?”
He reaches the steps up to their apartment, gripping anxiously at the bars of the staircase. “Chase might be a better help to him than me.”
Anonymous asked:
Blue asked for you specifically! He seemed to want to be comforted by you before. Maybe spending some time together would be good for both of you.
“He wants me?”
Jackie steps quietly into the apartment, locking the door behind him. Their empty living space looks back at him, but at least he knows the fridge and cupboards are stocked now.
Blue’s door is slightly open. Jackie peers inside. His twin is hiding beneath the covers, quiet. There’s a couple little packages on the bed, wrapped up in newspaper.
Anonymous asked:
Ooohh packages? What's inside? And how are you doing Blue?
Jackie pulls apart the top package carefully, finding the Princess Bride wrapped up inside. He grins and looks up to find Blue looking back at him, eyes tired.
“Happy birthday,” Blue mumbles.
“Thanks,” says Jackie softly.
“You’re coming to bed?”
“How are you?” Jackie redirects, blinking at him.
Blue pulls his covers up to his chin. “Fine.”
“Oh, good,” says Jackie, sighing. “The cameras thought you were upset.”
“I’m just tired.”
“Then you should sleep.”
Blue gazes at him, mouth tight.
Anonymous asked:
The anger and guilt and self-hate are a part of the healing process, Marvin. Chase is right, it takes time. Time and therapy and building of a support system. You can't expect to magically be healed in only a short amount of time AND without talking to a professional or taking medicine to help with your moods. You can take action to heal quicker, but you're refusing it.
Blue slides back onto his side while Jackie looks through his presents - his new jackets and shoes and the book and some candy. He’s eating Hot Tamales by the time he looks up again, and it is then, in the lowlight of their only lamp in the house, that he sees Blue shaking with tears, silent against his pillows.
Jackie crawls over him on the bed, confused, and uses his sleeve to wipe at his reddened face. It’s not like Blue to cry. He gets mad. He does not cry. Jackie is often the same way.
“Not fine?” asks Jackie.
Blue moans and buries his face in his pillow. Jackie hovers over him, hand on his shoulder, brushing away his tears.
“You can… have anything you need,” offers Jackie anxiously. “Just tell me. I can try. I’m not good at any of it but I can try. I would bring you anything.”
“Nothing’s going to fix this.”
“Fix what?” asks Jackie, bewildered. “Why won’t you tell me?”
“I wish you could just - the way that Chase always knows exactly what Henrik needs. I wish you could do that.”
Jackie chews on his nails. “But I can’t do that.”
“I know, trust me…”
“So you have to tell me.”
“I don’t know.”
“This isn’t fair,” protests Jackie, squeezing his shoulder. “Tell me, tell. You’re a liar. You said you were fine.”
Anonymous asked:
Blue, you are YOU. You are not Anti nor just what he left behind. You're an individual and you belong to yourself. Your body is yours, and your mind is yours. I understand the self hatred, it's brought on by your immense trauma and guilt. Stop, slow your thoughts, identify your strengths, learn to accept compliments and good words from yourself and others, and develop some self compassion instead of mercilessly judging and criticizing yourself for various inadequacies or shortcomings.
“Compliments, I can do compliments,” says Jackie swiftly.
“Jackie - is there blood on you? Hey!”
“Don’t worry about it, don’t worry. I love you. You’re smart, did you know that?”
“You jackass, you did not get in another fight. Come on, we’re going to the bathroom to clean you up right now.”
Jackie lets Blue pull him by the arm towards the bathroom.
“You read so fast I bet you could learn anything if you just felt like it. You know like five languages. I love how you - how you hold yourself? Like you know you’re something just a little bit unnatural. Just a little dangerous. You should because when you use your power, you look like some kind of constellation come to life.”
“Jackie…” Blue blots blood from his face with a washcloth, pushing the soft hair from his face. “I don’t need compliments. I just want to take care of you, okay?”
“What do you think I’m trying to do?” shouts Jackie.
Blue slows, blinking at him. Jackie blinks back, their hands tentative in the air between them.
“You won’t let anyone do anything,” croaks Jackie. “Just angry and unhappy all the time.”
“Hypocrite,” whispers Blue.
Jackie just looks down, shaking his head. After a long moment, he slinks forward and places his head on Blue’s shoulder, hiding against his neck, and Blue is still.
“You are… you. My twin. I don’t care what name you go by. You don’t have to be anything else.”
The tears are back. Dripping down his cheeks.
“I want to be.”
“Then I want to help,” says Jackie. “As long as what you want to change is the parts of yourself that hurt you, and not the parts of yourself that just want the pain to stop.”
Anonymous asked:
Fine, okay, hate yourself forever if that's what you want. But Blue, goddamnit, you absolutely cannot treat your brothers like this. You cannot be cruel to them and take out your anger on them. You are hurting the people around you because of how much you hurt inside. Go to a therapist. Go to a psychiatrist. Get help, you have people willing to do it. Stop yourself in this tirade before you burry yourself in the dirt.
Jackie doesn’t know what to do with a crying Blue. He just… clings to him.
“I know how awful I’m being,” sobs Blue. “It keeps me awake. I feel like I can’t help it half the time. Something about them… not my Chase. It’s Dapper and Dok.”
“JJ and Schneep.”
“How am I supposed to see them that way when I saw them through Anti’s eyes?” Blue cries, clinging to his brother’s hoodie, to his hair, to his shoulders. “I beat Dok until he was screaming for me to stop, telling me he would do anything, I - ”
“You didn’t do that. That was Anti.”
“I held Dapper in my bed and forced him to lie down with me. I could have done worse. I could have done anything. That’s the worst fucking part. Anti could have done anything to him with my hands. He could have tortured him, could have made him kill, could have had sex with him, whatever he wanted. And I was in the same boat. He could have used my body for anything. And the two of us, we would lie there under Anti’s control, in that bed, for hours every night, neither of us moving, both of us trapped, helpless, helpless. Every time I look at him I’m - I’m - ”
He’s back in that bed again. Anti’s beneath his skin. Anti’s using him to beat Henrik, Anti’s using him to hypnotize Chase til he’s quiet again. Anti’s there. And Dapper’s looking back at him, just as trapped, just as despairing, and there is nothing he can do, nothing he can do, he has to do something, he has to do -
“Ow, ow, Blue!” cries Jackie, and when he comes back to awareness Blue has to tear roses out of his brother’s arms, gasping at the blood running down them.
“Oh, shit, I - Red, I didn’t mean to, I just - I’ll bandage it, I’m sorry!”
Anonymous asked:
You were violated, Blue. The others didn't deserve what happened to them, but you didn't deserve what happened to you either. You were stepped off your powers and your very autonomy, but even if it doesn't feel like it, you still have your worth. Not as a puppet but as a person and a brother and yourself.
“How do I come back from being used like that?” asks Blue. “Doesn’t it just fuck you up forever? He just… really took everything from me.”
“We’re here,” whispers Jackie.
“I look at all of you and see him. I look at myself and see him. Everything is drifting through his fog. I don’t even have the memories of a time where he wasn’t there.”
“You’re going to have to trust me on this one,” says Jackie, placing a hand on the back of his twin’s head and drawing him close. “You are a very distinct person from Anti. And I really think that we can… get better, in some ways.”
“You don’t sound all that sure.”
“I’m not,” admits Jackie weakly. “Because I think I’ve been feeling the same way. Like his killer. It helps me to talk about it because then at least I realize what it is I’m feeling.”
“I just feel bad about myself,” says Blue. “And… terrified every time I remember. Every time I look at JJ and Schneep, or something else reminds me. Then I lash out and I’m just playing his game again.”
Anonymous asked:
Start building something new, Blue. You can't heal if you keep insisting you're still Blue, but you don't have to be Marvin either. Be somebody new, make someone you can love. You don't have to hate yourself forever. Dye your hair, get a new piercing, or buy clothes that feel familiar. Be /you/. Not Blue, not Marvin. You don't have to just wallow in the hate. Change things about yourself that annoy you. Reinvent yourself, and stop pushing your family away.
“I’m sorry,” says Blue quietly. “There’s so little of me left I don’t know where to start building from. I don’t know what I want. Don’t trust myself to do anything to my own body. Like it’s not mine. I’d be scared to change it. I - ”
There’s a short sob somewhere down the hall.
Jackie stands straight up, his hand falling from Blue’s head in an instant. His eyes are wide and alert.
“Jackie - ”
“That was JJ,” he says. “That’s my little brother.”
And just like that - just one second later - he’s vanishing down the hall.
He’s gone.
Blue stands in the bathroom, mouth trembling. Jackie’s blood drizzles into the sink. Tears slip down his face, defeated and angry, and he hiccups on a sob of his own.
Anonymous asked:
Is JJ okay? And Jackie, get back to Blue as soon as you can, he's going through a lot right now, though I know all of you are and it must be hard to prioritize.
“Jamie, Jamie.” Jackie races towards him, pushing open his door. He knows what Blue says in situations like this. “Honey, love, here I am.”
His brother is gone from his room and Jackie’s heart panics for a second - he stole him away from me! - before he hears him crying from the closet. Jackie tears open the white door and kneels down beside him, gripping his shoulder. “Dapper, JJ, my little man. Look at me, pal.”
“Trapped, room, trapped, room, trapped, room,” JJ is signing, over and over again. “Trapped room trapped room trapped - ”
Jackie drags him right out of the closet, shoving the door to the room open and pulling him into the living space. He shoves open the door to their little cement balcony.
“No, no, I’m in trouble, I’m in trouble,” scream JJ’s hands, tearing at his hair.
“Not in trouble. You’re not in trouble. He’s not here. He won’t hurt you.”
“They locked my door in the psych ward, couldn’t get out, couldn’t get out! I’m trying to be good, I don’t want to go back, I’m in trouble!”
“No, Dap, no, you can stay, you’re not in trouble…”
Blue slides numbly from the bathroom, treading into the living room to listen to his twin’s loving voice soothing and reassuring JJ through his panic.
“I can’t sleep alone, I can feel him looking at me, and the bed is so cold, I haven’t slept alone in years!”
“I can stay with you if you want, just breathe, Jaimer, just breathe for me.”
Blue’s heart gives one sharp thud of pain. He clenches his fists and thorns and flame wreath his fingers, making them shake. His head swims. He hates this. Anger and guilt and despair.
Forget it.
“I’m right here, Jamie, my Jamie…”
Blue stalks back to his room and locks the door behind him.
Anonymous asked:
You aren't trapped JJ, it'll be okay. See, you can go out on the balcony! No one will take you away and no one will force you to be locked up anymore. Your big brother is letting you leave the room, letting you go out in the fresh air. You'll be okay. Never have to be trapped again.
“I couldn’t get out of my room at night at the hospital, and I was scared, I was scared, but I didn’t want - didn’t want to get stuck, had to be good to get out, had to - ”
“Breathe, Jaimer, slower for me, okay? Slower. They locked your door?”
“They can’t just let people wander at night…”
Jackie rocks them both back and forth on the floor, his brother pinned to his chest. “Why didn’t you tell me that was stressing you out?”
“I just wanted to be good so I could go home. Everybody was always watching me in that place. I’m just always a prisoner.”
“Ah, Dipper… fuck’s sake, I’m sorry this keeps happening. We just wanted you to be better, didn’t mean to reinforce anything he taught you. Were you just masking? Do you even feel better at all?”
“I do feel better, I do,” JJ answers him quickly. “But sometimes I think that coping with this - with all of this - the masking is the coping. If I can hide it I’m doing better. If I can tell that Anti’s not real when I see him across the room, if I can ignore him - that’s better than I was before.”
He’s wiping at his reddened face. Jackie rocks him slowly, watching him.
“But you still feel bad?”
JJ huffs out a sigh and places his head against Jackie’s shoulder, squeezing his knee for a second. “I just got scared, that’s all. There’s a part of me still so worried that Anti is here, in a way. That we’re going to fall back into old patterns. That you’d lock me up if I acted badly or that Blue is going to hurt me because I remind him of Anti.”
Jackie’s eyes darken. “Dude. He wouldn’t do that.”
“I can’t help my paranoia,” signs back Jamie, letting his eyes slide shut. “And I see it in his face: sometimes he does want to hurt me. To melt away the parts of me that remind him of Anti the same way he melted my knife.”
Jackie doesn’t know what to say. He rocks JJ until his brother’s breathing has slowed and his heart is jackrabbiting against the both of them, maybe ten minutes later.
“Let’s go back to bed,” he says softly.
“Don’t leave me,” pleads JJ. “When my bed is empty, he comes to fill the space beside me. His hands run over my stomach.”
“I won’t, Jaimer. I won’t.”
Anonymous asked:
Oh, Blue honey, don't feel too awfully dejected from Jackie running off... You know he's hypervigilant when it comes to the younger three, but I'm sure he'll come back to you. You deserve care and comfort just as much as they do, maybe even more right now. Believe yourself to be worthy of comfort, even though the self-hatred tells you otherwise. Jackie loves you just as much as the others, he just trusts you more to handle yourself alone. For better or worse, honestly.
Blue changes into PJs quietly, the energy gone out of him. For a few minutes, he hears Jackie pulling at the door and calling his name, confused, but he doesn’t answer, and eventually his twin slips away again.
Off to deal with his favorites.
Maybe it’s his fault. He knows how stubborn he’s been. He’s refused help for so long that the others don’t know how to give it to him anymore, or even to recognize that he needs it. He doesn’t like to be fussed over much anyway, and he sure as hell doesn’t want to be babied.
But it might be nice. Just for a minute. It might be nice to have Jackie call him little brother and cuddle up with him in their bed, just the two of them, instead of shying away from each other on either side of the mattress like they do most days. Like they don’t know what to do with each other anymore.
He wonders if Anti was what was holding the pair of them together - Anti and the need to protect their younger siblings. Red hated having a newcomer when they first met, after all. It wasn’t until Anti reset the both of them and shoved them into brotherhood that they decided they loved each other. Maybe they’re not even friends. Just survivors who were stranded on the same life boat, and now that they’re back on dry land, Jackie can go wherever he wants.
He lies in bed for a long time, but he can’t sleep. He’s slept all day. He trudges out into the hallway and peers into JJ’s room, just for a minute.
Jackie is curled around his younger brother, the pair of them asleep on the floor under blankets and each other’s arms. Jackie keeps Jameson safe.
Blue checks on Henrik and Chase.
“Dok?” he murmurs. “Why are you up?”
Henrik turns to him, blinking in the darkness.
“Do you need something?” he asks.
Henrik shakes his head. Chase is asleep in their nest, hand stretched out in the space where his twin should be.
Blue gives Henrik a kiss on the head. “Go to sleep, my darling.”
Henrik gazes up at him. For a second, his scarred hand rises to stroke across Blue’s cheek, cupping his face.
Blue thinks he would probably make everything right if he were here. Henrik would probably open his mouth and make everything in the world right.
He leads his little brother gently back to their nest and lies him down beside Chase, who readjusts instantly to hold him. They’re all magnets, clicking against each other, and Blue is just something plastic trying to fit in.
“Good night, sunshine.”
Henrik watches him leave their room, his blue eyes glittering in the moonlight. Blue closes the door behind him and goes back to bed.
.
Anonymous asked:
Blue you won't ever be anything but Antis if you keep insisting on not getting help. There's a reason you're not healing and don't feel okay, and it's because you won't talk to anyone, and you won't express how you feel, and you won't see professionals. You are sabotaging yourself. You need to see someone, get outside help. I know what it feels like to hate yourself, and taking it out on others around you is the worst thing you could do. Stop cutting people off with your hatred and guilt.
“I’m so glad you came,” Chase is telling him the next day, over and over. “I’m so glad you’re here. Thanks, I just - I’ve been worried. I love you, you know?”
He does know. He wants to be all fluffy and affectionate with him again, but he doesn’t have the energy. He doesn’t want to be here. But maybe everyone’s right.
He can’t handle this on his own.
“Mathew?” calls the receptionist.
“It’s Matti,” he says wearily, getting to his feet. “Chase, I’ll just be a few.”
“Take your time,” says Chase, squeezing his hand goodbye. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.”
Blue steps back into the doctor’s office and sits down in an examination room, slumping back against the wall and closing his eyes, worn.
Anonymous asked:
Tell the doctor about the unstable moods and anger you're dealing with, Blue. It might lead to you getting a psychiatrist and someone to talk to.
“So. What are we here to look at, Matti?”
Dr. Bowlan looks at him with this placid smile on his mouth, a clipboard resting on his knee. Blue sighs through his teeth, sick of this already. He knows, doesn’t he? He circled mood swings and irritability on his intake paperwork. He went through the questions the nurse asked him.
“Little interest or pleasure in doing things?”
“Every day.”
“Feeling down, depressed, or hopeless.”
“Most days.”
“Trouble falling or staying asleep, or sleeping too much.”
“Most days.”
“Feeling tired or having little energy.”
“Every day.”
“Poor appetite or over-eating.”
“Most days.”
“Feeling bad about yourself or that you are a failure or have let your family down.”
“Every day.”
“Trouble concentrating on things?”
“Some days.”
“Moving or speaking slowly or being restless and fidgeting.”
“Not at all.”
“Thoughts that you would be better off dead or hurting yourself in some way.”
“… Every day.”
“In the past two weeks, have you done anything or planned to do anything with the intent of ending your life?”
“No.”
“You’re not feeling good?” murmurs Dr. Bowlan, bringing him back to the present.
Blue shakes his head. No. He’s not feeling good.
“I’m taking it out on the others,” he says thinly. “I’m angry at all of them. It has to stop. I can’t help them like this.”
Anonymous asked:
There's definitely some problems here, Blue's clues. Please let the doctor help you find a solution without much sass or fighting it! /lh
“I’ll be as sassy as I want,” Blue mutters. Dr. Bowlan has talked him through every aspect of his feelings that he’s willing to talk about - so a whole five minutes of discussion - and he’s ready to go.
“What’s that?”
“Nothing.”
“Matti, I think it might be a good idea to try some antidepressants and see how those go. I need to see you again next week and you need to take them every day. The truth is that medication really works best in conjunction with therapy. You could get into the same place as your brother if you would like…”
He listens to him drone on about therapy. He just wants to take the pills and go. Finally, he receives a prescription, and, with a mumbled thank you, he’s gone again. Chase beams at him from the waiting room, but Blue just sweeps past.
Anonymous asked:
I'm so proud of you for going to the doctor for help, Blue!
“Yeah, that’s a good first step,” agrees Chase warmly, hastening after his sibling, not sure why Blue is heading for the alley to the back of the building instead of walking back towards the bus stop so they can get him to work on time. “Blue, the bus stop is - ”
“I don’t need your fucking approval!” screams Blue, whirling on you, and it’s then that you see his eyes are blazing blue. “I don’t want to fucking talk about it! Just leave me the fuck alone, everyone, shut the fuck up, I don’t care!”
Chase leaps back, shocked, as the ground beneath his feet grows hot even through his new shoes. Fire crackles in Blue’s hands.
“Don’t send me another fucking question or another goddamn condescending congratulations or I’m going to - ”
He spins around again, seething through his teeth as his power makes his body shake. He needs to shut the fuck up before he says worse.
“Blue,” begins Chase, and Blue hears the shake in his voice. “You can’t be using magic in the city - there’s magicians, Jackie said - ”
“Just give me a minute!” he howls.
Chase cowers back against the wall and goes quiet.
Anonymous asked:
I'm so proud of you for going to the doctor's, Blue. Just remember that you need this help, and it'll be good for you in the long run. You'll make it through, even dealing with annoying doctor visits and your irritability. Be safe and let the doctors help as much as they can. - 🎒
His heartbeat seems to pulse up into his throat and his breaths come fast and shaky. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. He hates this. All of it. Anger like a swelling of magma. Hot. It hurts his chest. He’s going to be sick. Grips his soft stomach and hates that too. Ugly and breaking down. He spits bile and weeds groan up from the cracks in the cement, twisted and back, dead by the time they’re grown.
He knows he’s scared Chase and he hates that too. His brother is hiding beside a garbage can, peering out at him like he used to peer out his broken window, on watch, hiding. Chase has learned how to live like a rat. Hates it, hates it. Flame up his back. He’s wreathed in his own fire. He glows with it - with the power, with the pain. Anger’s just hurt that doesn’t have anywhere else to go.
“We’re done talking about this,” he says through gritted teeth. “Talk to me again and I’m just going to ignore it. Just leave me alone.”
He draws himself up after long minutes. Chase curls in on himself against the trash cans, eyes big and wary. He reaches out to take Blue’s hand but won’t meet his gaze anymore. Head down, scared of him.
It’s his fault. His chest hurts from how hard his heart is beating.
Anonymous asked:
None of the congratulations were meant as condescending, Marvin. The audience is genuinely proud of you. Not everyone is out to annoy you, man. Chase, don't take anything he says personally, Blue is feeling extreme emotions and what's best right now, like with Jackie going to another room when he gets angry, is to just let him blow off the steam in a safe environment.
Chase glances up at Blue, who just ignores the message and keeps pulling him towards the bus. He wants to open his mouth to say something - I’m proud of you and I know they are too, is that so wrong? Why are you so angry all the time, why won’t you eat what I cook you, why don’t you come hang out with me and cuddle a little like we used to? I wish you would talk to me. Haven’t I been where you are? - but he isn’t going to push his buttons. He’s going to be good. He puts his head back down and keeps walking. Blue’s hand is hot in his own.
Anonymous asked:
Chase, were you scared of Blue just then? Maybe you should express that to him and clarify that you still love him despite it? I think he needs time alone once you get home, so on the bus or in this alley is your shot to talk with him about how he's making you feel.
“I’m sorry, I just lost control of the power, I would never let it hurt you,” Blue tells him in one breath, sitting down on the bus and then going silent again.
Chase chews on his mouth, staring at the silver floor of the bus. Yeah, he was scared. He closes his eyes tight. He knows that heat, Blue’s heat, Blue’s flame. It was somehow different from the hot California sun. He remembers feeling it crackle against his skin, making his hair stand up, making the forest floor stink of smoking plant matter and, when Blue got really angry, smoking flesh. He can see his brother plunging the knife into Anti’s chest. Anti is screaming. Blood and ink splurt across the dirt. He smells copper and flame.
He presses his face into Blue’s shoulder and just hides. He squeezes his palm. I love you. I love you.
Anonymous asked:
Chase, it'll be okay, don't worry horribly. You're already doing good thing with small reminders you love him and being patient with him. Your fear is understandable in the face of anger given who your abuser was, but you braved through it like you always do, fighter. Blue needs lots of help right now, the problem is getting him to tell you all what help he needs.
“Maybe you shouldn’t go to work today,” says Chase. If he won’t tell him what help he needs, he can at least try to look after him. Try not to worry. “We could go for a walk. Have a day off. I want to bake a cake or cookies or something, we could - ”
“I’m fine, amata,” says Blue lowly.
Long silence. The rushing by of the city.
“Would you even be taking the antidepressants if I wasn’t around?” Chase asks miserably.
The bus pulls to a stop outside the library. Blue gets to his feet, turning his back to him.
“If I didn’t have you, I wouldn’t have anything worth taking antidepressants for.”
Anonymous asked:
For Blue: It's okay to mourn the person you could have been. It's okay to be angry or resentful at that lost chance. It's okay to be sad about it too. But i, and your brothers, want you to know that there are so many parts of you, the you that exists right now, that are beautiful and lovely and meaningful. Just because your past is lost doesn't mean your future has to be too. You deserve to heal and work through this raging fire in you until it's protective, comforting fire again. We all believe in you.
He’s just… lost all control.
He’s lost control of himself, lost control of his relationships, lost control of his magic. It’s so much easier to lash out than to admit just how… lost he is.
He doesn’t want to talk about it. He really doesn’t.
Stepping into the library, he settles in behind the front desk, accepts a re-shelving assignment from his boss, and gets to work. At least this is something he can do right - book here, book here, mark the date. But it’s so meaningless. He doesn’t know how Jackie gets satisfaction out of just pushing buttons and monitoring the audio.
This isn’t what he was meant to do.
He can sense it, the same way he can sense that this person - this person he’s acting like, this person he’s become - it isn’t who he’s meant to be either.
He doesn’t know how to get that person back.
Maybe he could try changing his jewelry or his shoes or his hair. But it’s so scary to think that maybe, even if he tries everything he possibly can…
The person in the mirror will still not be him.
He re-shelves C.S. Lewis and wipes quietly at his eyes behind the bookshelves.
Chase is chatting to someone on the other side of the library, and it takes Blue a minute to realize that JJ has brought Henrik from home. That’s right, they were going to hang out here today. At least they’re close. His little brothers. He has to keep an eye on them. He has to make sure they’re okay. Even if he only seems to be able to be a jerk around them.
The sound of their voices is the only solace he has. He takes a shuddering breath and gets back to work.
He doesn’t know if he can heal from this. But if it would help them… well, he’ll try.
Anonymous asked:
Blue are there any mirrors in the library? There could be a mirror portal somewhere within that you just don't know the password for?
“I’ve thought about that,” Blue agrees. “I think it’s likely, even. There’s mirrors in the bathrooms and one upstairs in the kids’ section. But I have no idea how to open them even if I knew which one it was. It’s just this feeling that something is here. I wish I knew. I almost feel like I - like I should know.”
But it’s just one more patch of fog in his blank brain. He scowls and tries to stop thinking about it. He wishes he had any past at all to ground himself in.
This is when he notices a head pop over the bookcase he’s shelving.
“Are we talking about magic?” asks JJ cheerily. “I’ll help you look.”
Blue sighs, a little endeared despite himself. “I guess. But how are we going to find the password even if we know the mirror?”
“C'mon, we could at least check things out.”
It feels as hopeless as everything else. Blue mumbles excuses, putting books into their places.
scunneredzombie asked:
You should go with Jamie, have a look around with someone else who has magic understanding! It might be helpful if you teamed up with someone else, Blue.
Blue glances up at JJ, who smiles back at him. Fuck’s sake, he’s a forgiving little man. Blue hopes that’s who he is and not just an abuse response.
“Okay, babe, fine. Lead the way.”
“To the bathroom!”
“What, how are we going to check both?”
“You work here. Just say you’re cleaning it.”
“I’m not a janitor.”
“But I bet you know where the ‘closed for cleaning’ signs are.”
Little shit. Blue rolls his eyes and grins frailly back at him, getting to his feet.
“Come on, then.”
Anonymous asked:
Do either of you know any old Irish sayings/idioms/song verses/poetry? You can use those to take guesses at the mirror password if you think it'd work!
“I’m sure Blue knows plenty of nerdy old poetry,” says JJ.
Blue flicks his ear. “Too much to know what would work. And I think it might be a little suspicious if I just stood around chanting poetry and Irish sayings in the bathroom.”
“It’s not any of these anyway,” says JJ, pushing out the door. “Or the one upstairs. No portals.”
“How do you know?”
“I could feel it if it were.”
“I can’t tell any difference between any of them,” says Blue, frowning.
“With all love, Blue, I’m a little more powerful. But you’re probably just not sensing anything because there’s nothing there to sense. I’m not even sure it’s in this building. Just… near.”
Blue crosses his arms over his chest, annoyed. “I can tell it’s here, alright? I know it is.”
“I’m not doubting you,” says JJ. “I agree there’s something close.”
“Well, it’s not like there’s mirrors just standing in the middle of the field where they have the farmer’s market. It’s just grass and that fountain out there.”
JJ shrugs, moving to the window of the library. There’s the field with the fountain pouring down a straight sheet of water, the bus stop, and beyond it, more buildings and streets. It’s a pretty little library in the center of town, old enough to have stood for years and years.
scunneredzombie asked:
Can mirror dimensions be made by using the reflections in water? If the fountain has water come down in straight sheets or has anything particularly glimmery, that might be a place to check!
There’s a pause between the two of them.
And then they’re pushing each other out of the way to race back out the door, darting out to the fountain in the field.
“It’s big enough to walk through.”
“You can see your reflection in it no problem.”
“It goes all day and all night and over the winter I bet the pool at the bottom freezes over and sits.”
They exchange looks. JJ picks up Blue’s hand and sticks it into the stream, his own fingers wrapped around his wrist.
And Blue still doesn’t sense the stronger magic here, and he does not magically remember a password, and he certainly does not pass through the stream to another world, and yet -
There is a faint memory right here.
And he knows he’s stood in this exact spot, and made his way through the water.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, I think this is the place.”
At the top of the fountain, carved in stone, a lapwing bird.
Anonymous asked:
Welcome home again, Magnificent, you've found them!
“Sort of,” says Blue. “If I could actually get through it.”
“We could wait for someone to show up, maybe?”
“I guess I can keep an eye out from the library or something.”
Anonymous asked:
It's a long shot, but maybe try the "I love you, farewell" password that was used on the portal to your house back before Anti? I think it was something like "Te amo, valete". Just a thought!
The recognition of it draws a sudden and brilliant smile to Blue’s mouth and laughter comes bubbling out him, awed.
“Holy shit… that was our password.”
He glances at JJ, who smiles at him.
“We… we hid a mirror in the city, I think, and we… yeah, we had a password, I told Jackie he had to say he loved me before I’d let him leave… it was just a joke, but we say it damn near often enough anyway now, don’t we…”
“I miss that place,” signs JJ softly.
Fuck, but Blue would like to find it again. A home… a real home, just for them.
“Ammo,” he says. “Vale.”
He touches the water, but nothing changes. He blows out a breath. “Well, at least we know ours.”
Anonymous asked:
Are there any Irish poems about birds or lapwings you could try? Or maybe poems or quotes from books, since you're so near the library?
“That’s another next step, maybe,” agrees JJ. “There could be clues in the library. We could go back inside and look, if you’re not, like, remembering anything.”
Blue stares up at the fountain, wishing it could all come back to him. Not just magic but… everything. Like it would fill up some missing piece inside him. Lapwings… he doesn’t know anything about them except that they have to do with the magicians, and that he must have been attached enough to have one inked onto him. He thinks he knows some bird poems, though?
“Hope is the thing with feathers,” he offers softly, but nothing happens. But Dickinson wasn’t Irish anyhow. Maybe he could find some Irish poems or sayings or songs about birds.
scunneredzombie asked:
Yes, I knew it! You guys found it, good job! Now to go about finding the password... Any other memories surfacing, Blue?
“Yeah, that would be convenient,” sighs Blue. “A good old flashback and then we can hop right over to Hogwarts.”
He touches the water again, sighing at the coolness. “A password, huh? Wait, we had a mirror dimension for the five of us. How did you get in and out?”
“You made it work for me,” answers JJ gently. “Doesn’t have to be spoken aloud.”
“What did we do instead? A sign?”
“Yeah, a sign.”
“So it could be any words or any hand motion or anything,” grumbles Blue.
“Or even images. I’ve heard it can be images.”
“Great. Narrows it down.”
“Might be easier to meet some magicians.”
“Well, they won’t show themselves, will they? I’ve been using magic to make roses for weeks now. They don’t seem to have even noticed.”
“You could do something really grand.”
“Yeah, and then they could come try and take us away like you said those British magicians did.” He pulls away from the water, dejected. “They could be just as bad as the British ones. And they told you the Irish magicians had stopped answering them anyway, right? That they’re probably gone? That’s probably it.”
It’s bitter and painful in his chest and he doesn’t even know why.
“The Irish magicians are gone. Even if we could get through, there would be nothing to find.”
“You don’t know that.”
He gives JJ a dark look, feeling himself sinking back down into the mud he’s been stuck in.
“What, you’re hopeful now? Not drowning in your own despair anymore? Guess once the moment of need is over you’re finally ready to poke your head out of your shell and try things for once.”
JJ’s face flashes with anger, and he lifts his hands to shoot back a reply, and then -
Something scared in his face.
He wraps his arms around himself, his eyebrows furrowing with confusion, his mouth going taut, slightly open, slightly unsure -
“Honey,” says Blue, suddenly unnerved.
JJ stares at the world around him, eyes huge, blinking at the sun and the grass.
“Outside,” he signs weakly. “Outside, I’m not - I’m not allowed, I’m supposed to be - ”
Blue grabs his shoulders, trying to steady him. “Dap, stay with me. Hey. You’re fine. I’m sorry, I just…”
“I’m in trouble.” His air is coming faster now, his eyes fixed dangerously on the sun. Blue grabs his chin to pull his gaze away before he blinds himself. “My room. Hurts me, throws me down the stairs. Brat.”
JJ grabs his throat, coughing and pulling at his neck like there’s something wrapped around it, shaking his head.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Blue swears rapidly at himself and wraps an arm firmly around JJ’s shoulders, pulling him hurriedly back towards the library. “I’m sorry, I’m here. I didn’t need to say that, I just… I didn’t need to say that. Come on, we’re okay.”
Anonymous asked:
Jameson, are you okay?? What triggered you, love? You're not a brat, and you're free now, free to leave the room whenever you want. Anti is dead. You're not a prisoner anymore.
“Yeah, you’re good, you’re good,” murmurs Blue, tugging him into the doors of the library and pulling him behind the desk, just grateful that his coworker is upstairs. For all that he gets after him, he knows exactly what JJ wants to do right now - squeeze into a tight space and hide. Which is exactly what he does, hunkering down beneath the computer desk and curling up like a hedgehog, panting.
“Blue? What’s going on?”
“Chase, he just - we went outside and I kind of said something that maybe - but I think it was mostly just being outside, you know, just the sun and everything, I just gave him a little sass for not helping with Anti and - he just - ”
Horrified, Chase races around the desk and falls to his knees beside his brother. “JJ. You’re okay! Fuck, Blue, you two were outside for ten minutes and this - ”
“It wasn’t my fault!”
“What did you say?”
“Just that he didn’t used to try and do stuff, you know, that he would just sit in his room all hopeless.”
“You’re unbelievable,” snaps Chase. He leans closer to wrap himself around JJ, hugging him close.
Blue rears back, pierced. What, Chase is mad? Chase is never mad. Defensive, sure, or scared, or tired, yes, but not mad. That isn’t something that happens.
“Amata, he has a million and one triggers. I was a little short with him, but he just has trouble being outside. You’re just going to pick him over - ”
“Just get out of here, Blue! JJ, can you talk to me? What was it, Jay, what was it? I swear, you and Jackie act like you’re the only ones who are big brothers sometimes! Well, I got people I’m supposed to protect too. And you’re being an ass.”
Blue stares at him, mouth open. Chase doesn’t talk to him like this.
“I’m taking him and Henrik away the second he’s calm,” says Chase, ignoring his gaze, his mouth set stubbornly even though his voice shakes and stammers more than usual, his eyes pricked with tears. “I love you so much but you just keep - you just keep - ugh! If you’re going to treat us this way then maybe you should just leave us alone!”
Blue…
Blue can’t even answer.
He turns away, then turns back. Turns away, turns back.
“You guys were going to hang out here with me today,” he offers lamely.
Where he can hear them. Where he can watch over them.
“We’re going away,” repeats Chase quietly.
He closes his eyes and wraps himself tighter around Jameson, their heads pressed together.
Anonymous asked:
Blue I know you don't want any positive praise or encouragement thrown your way. Maybe you only know the reason but maybe you've just wrapped yourself in cynicism so tightly that you have to push everything out to an arms distance, so you either sit and stew in your own negative emotions, or when you do open up, all that bitterness seeps out and you've proven your cynicism right when things boil over. The world is screwed up, and it's hard to admit that you're screwed up too. It's even harder when you feel like you're asking the same screwed up world for help of all things, but your pride and your cynicism aren't the same thing. You need your pride restored, you need your cynical self dialed back. I hope therapy helps you. I hope the antidepressants don't cause you any grief. I hope YOU believe you can dare to hope again.
Our well-wishes may seem sappy and overly sentimental, but they come from a place of sincerity. The fact is, we don't know how else to help you. We're lost. You're lost. We're all getting redirected in circles but you're going to find a path for yourself. And we'll still be along with you the whole way through.
Blue sits down numbly in one of the big green reading chairs by the window upstairs.
He reads from the corner of his eyes, trying to ignore you, his tongue wetting his mouth. He pulls on his hair and hunches over himself, feeling sick to his stomach again. All the time. It’s his anxiety. Hurts his tummy.
Now he’s made Chase mad.
Chase - Chase wrapped around JJ - picking JJ - wrapped around JJ’s little finger just like Anti was - lying in bed and the two of them are looking at each other, helpless - he feels his arms wrap around JJ and he knows from the way he squirms that he does not like it, but all Anti does is laugh, and Blue can’t do anything about it, can’t make it stop -
He shudders. Cynicism. That’s what it is. He’s lost some ability he used to have. He doesn’t know how to get it back. All that’s left are scars.
A hand on his own pulls him back from his head again. Blue looks up quickly. Maybe Chase came to find him and apologize. To be his cozy little amata again.
But it’s not Chase.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” rasps Blue, swallowing as he tries to put his front of calm back up. “You okay?”
Henrik gazes at him, head tilting slightly. He reaches up and cups Blue’s face. Blue laughs weakly and reaches down to hold the back of his head in return, stroking his fingers through his hair.
“What, are you worried?”
Henrik blinks at him, fingers playing against Blue’s palm.
“Can I have a kiss, then, if you’re worried?” asks Blue boldly, pinching his ear.
Henrik’s mouth thins, his eyes soft.
And then he lifts up and gives Blue a kiss on the side of his temple, scratching his beard for a second. He gets up and turns, and before Blue can say anything, Chase is appearing on the top of the stairs, pale but calm again.
“We’re going to go now,” he says quietly. “JJ just blanked out for a second. He’s fine.”
Blue looks away, sulking. Whatever. Of course he’s fine. What a baby. And now Chase is all on his side. Right away even. Fine, whatever.
“Your shift’s done at six?”
“Yes,” he says shortly.
Chase nods, shifting on his feet, and reaches out for Henrik, who turns to go with him.
“Take the camera with you,” says Blue, pushing your camcorder towards him. “I don’t fucking need it.”
Chase stares at him for a second, mouth pursed. Then he takes the camcorder. He’s pretty sure Jackie hid an emergency GoPro in Blue’s book bag anyway, but it hardly matters.
“Bye,” he says. “Love you.”
Blue glares out the window, simmering. Chase sees leaves budding from inside his clutched fists.
Chase turns unhappily to walk away.
“Love you too,” you hear Blue whisper, and then he’s out of your sight and your hearing.
Stewing in his own negativity, closed off and alone.
Anonymous asked:
Blue, escaping the life with Anti was never going to be a clean ending. I wish you guys could have had a clean slate to build your new lives off of, or at least revert to how things were before, but the fact is, life's not like that. It doesn't matter that you don't want to hear that change takes time, or that you need professional help, or that you can't take care of your family while neglecting yourself: all those things are true.
You can either dig your heels into the ground and insist on drowning in your own self-hatred, or you can admit that you're scared, and accept some help to leave some of that behind you, even if it's just a little. You don't have to pretend to be Marvin, you don't have to continue as Blue. But you need to let go of some of the stubbornness of each identity to move on and become whoever you feel that you are or who you can be.
Whatever the case, we can't force your decision but at least THINK on what we're saying before blindly rejecting it. We care about you, even if you sometimes don't.
It was never going to be clean.
Chase cries in the pews of the Jewish building - he doesn’t know if it’s a synagogue or a temple or just a communal place - where he’s wanted to take Henrik for weeks now. He didn’t plan to be crying when he imagined it, of course. But it was never going to be clean.
It was always going to be Jackie’s screaming in the middle of the night and an ugly burn on Chase’s hand. It was always going to be JJ talking to a monster who is no longer there and a blank stare in Henrik’s face. It was always going to be Blue’s fury and a bottle of antidepressants.
“I wish he had taken Dok and run like he said he would,” he sobs into JJ’s shirt. “That first night he tried to run. In Norway. We were in Norway? I just remember him trying to take Dok and go. I wish he had escaped that night. Then the two of them would still be okay. Not like this. Not like this, this isn’t right, it’s not how it’s supposed to be. At least they could have gotten away. But he stayed for us, I remember, I remember that much. The beach… we were on the beach… I don’t know how long ago. Just not like this.”
He’s the only sound in the whole of the little building. It’s not the most impressive religious building Chase has ever seen. There’s an open area with some fold-up metal chairs and plastic tables and a rickety old piano, and then a partition before the area with the pews and the set-up in the front. The sign on the door says the building is open to visitors but warns that there are always cameras watching, and services are Saturday at six with a community dinner afterwards, thank you very much. It smells like styrofoam and Pinesol. JJ holds Chase in the pews, hugging him wearily. Henrik stands in the corner of the building, tracing his fingers over a glass box holding a huge scroll inside.
“Blue just needs some time,” offers JJ, trying to pull away enough to sign clearly, though Chase refuses to let him go. “Henrik too.”
“He’s so unhappy,” cries Chase. “I hate it, I hate this.”
It was never going to be clean. It was always going to be ugly as fuck and messy and miserable.
Fuck, even if they were still with Anti, things would be even worse.
“He was going to cut my voicebox out,” weeps Chase, stammering so hard he’s not sure JJ can understand him. “Didn’t he say that? He kept touching my throat. Said I didn’t need it cause we can all sign. I didn’t need to talk to anybody but you and him. We were going to be pets. He would have killed the others. It took me too long. It took me so long. If I had fought sooner, they wouldn’t be like this. Still messed up, yeah, but not this much. Not this bad. I should have fought for all of you sooner.”
He lets it come pouring out. The ugliness. If Blue won’t express it, he will.
It was never, never, never going to be anything other than this. Because “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” is bullshit and all Anti did was hurt them. Now they have to come clawing their way back out of the traps he laid in their heads. Maybe they’ll be a little stronger, in some ways, but they’ll also be scarred up and vigilant. It’s traumatic in the same way grief is - it never really stops hurting. You just learn to deal with it better. Every day, if you can, you learn to deal with it better. But some days you just go falling back into the abyss, and you have to start climbing again.
He kisses JJ’s head fervently, one time, two times, again, because he needs to, because he loves him, because he’s sorry. JJ lets him. He smooths tears from his face and just holds him, for a long time.
Someone’s playing Clair de Lune in the other room. Chase covers his mouth, realizing he’s been too loud. Maybe they won’t judge. Not in a place like this.
Long, deep breaths. Long, deep gasps for air. He starts to calm down again. Jamie smells different than he used to. Different than Dapper, who usually smelled like chalk and old mattresses and copper. JJ smells like green apple detergent and coconut shampoo.
“Sorry,” mumbles Chase, realizing he’s gotten snot all over his new shirt, and JJ just shakes his head and presses their cheeks together, rubbing on him like a cat for a second.
“Do you think he’s thinking about it?” asks Chase, sniffling. “About whether he’s going to get some help or not? About if he’s going to be able to get past this?”
JJ nods. Chase nods back, headachey from his crying, and squeezes JJ’s ribs.
“Don’t know how to make it better,” he confesses weakly.
JJ draws away to sign, wiping more of his brother’s tears away as he goes. “It’s not your job to make it better,” he says. “If there’s anything you can do for him, he needs to let you know. But it’s not your job to keep anyone happy. Not anymore. Just you. Just work on making you happy.”
“But I want you all to be happy.”
Jameson grins and draws him back into a hug.
“Together. We’ll work on it together. It won’t be pretty… won’t be clean. But we keep working on it.”
Anonymous asked:
It's not your fault Chase. Don't put the weight of it all on your own shoulders, you'll tear yourself apart. You need to be focused on your own and Henrik's healing most of all right now. Blue is going through a lot, but it's completely reasonable to want to have space from him with how cruel and snappy he's being lately. It's not your job to fix everything. There are a lot of things for all of you to deal with individually, and you mustn't let one of you take on all the responsibility.
“You got too used to it,” signs JJ.
“To what?”
“Trying to make him happy.” JJ looks down at his hands. “Once he got sick of me. You would try to cheer him up or distract him so he wouldn’t come after the rest of us.”
“Did I?” He wipes at his face. “I don’t remember.”
“You were always trying to keep us all safe.” JJ leans against him, looking up at the ark. “We all tried to look out for each other when we could. But now… well, nobody’s being tortured, Chase. Nobody’s dying. We can prioritize ourselves instead of spending all our time worried about one of us being in literal imminent danger.”
“What if he is in danger?” asks Chase miserably. “With himself.”
“Then he needs to start expressing that so we can help,” JJ answers. “In the meantime, we have to look after ourselves, and if we get extra time or energy we’ll try to help each other. And all of us can help look after Henrik until he’s a little more… conscious.”
“He’s my responsibility,” protests Chase.
“We can all help, Chase. Even with him, you can take a break if you need one. We can all look after him. Which, uh, does beg the question… where did he go?”
Chase turns around. His brother is no longer standing by the Torah.
“Shit!”
Anonymous asked:
Uh oh, Doktor on the run! Maybe he went to where the music was coming from?
Chase scrambles to his feet and hurries back to the community area of the building, almost tripping over his feet as he goes. Shit, then he’s probably encountered the person playing the piano, and they’ve probably tried to engage with him, and he’s probably just stared at them, and then they could be mean to him, or think he’s an intruder, or yell at him, or -
But there’s just one person in the room.
Chase stills in the doorway of the partition, staring.
Henrik plays Clair de Lune perfectly, relaxed on the stool of the piano, his fingers drifting easily across the keys.
Anonymous asked:
Woah, Henrik knows piano? Even after so long without playing he can do it perfectly, that's amazing.
“Yeah,” says Chase frailly. “He, uh. He’s a genius. Always was. Even Anti would say that. But I didn’t know he played. I guess I forgot.”
Soft laughter from the piano. Henrik’s laughter.
Chase is frozen, staring at him. Henrik glances back at him and Jameson. His mouth smiles. His eyes are clear.
“Come here,” he signs with a free hand, beckoning. “Come over here.”
Anonymous asked:
Wh- Is Henrik back??! ;0;
Chase steps up to him, letting his hand come down on his shoulder, grounding himself there at his brother’s back. Henrik plays with one hand and reaches up to pull him to sit beside him with the other. He takes Chase’s hands and positions them on the piano.
“Do you remember the scales we were working on?” he asks.
He says it like it’s so normal that it makes Chase jolt on the stool. His voice… his voice like nothing has changed.
“Dok,” he whispers.
“Show me, then, come,” says Henrik, tapping his fingers on top of Chase’s.
“No, I… I don’t remember. Did we used to play?”
“You do not practice while I am at work! You will never learn.”
He’s teasing him. He’s playful.
“Dok, look at me,” begs Chase, pulling his gaze.
And he does. He just - he does. He looks at him.
“What?” asks Henrik, and then, when Chase does not answer: “Something is the matter?”
“Dok, do you know what’s going on? Do you know where we are?”
“Yes?” Henrik’s staring at him like he’s the crazy one. “Yes, home, in the living room. Are you alright? You have not been drinking?”
The warm sun is coming through the window of their house - Henrik can feel it on his face. It’s fall and the leaves of the trees are orange in the forest outside. Queenie leaps up onto the back of the piano and mewls at him.
“Bad girl, get down,” he scolds. “Jamie, are you making coffee? Will you get me a cup?”
Jameson comes up behind him and gives him a hug around his shoulders. Unexpected, but he does not mind. He is new to their family but he already fits right in.
He’s safe and things are good. He breathes out a low, satisfied hum. All is well in the world.
Anonymous asked:
Oh, uh.... Chase, JJ, do you guys know whether you should go along with him or try to bring him to the present time? He seems alright at least
“This could be him waking up,” says Chase, reaching out to cup Henrik’s face. “Dok, Henrik, it’s me, it’s Trick. Chase. We’re in Ireland. We got away from Anti, we’re safe! You can come back to me.”
“Chase,” JJ interrupts. “He’s not in any distress. Why don’t we just take it easy and see if he’ll come back to himself gently? This means he feels safe. It’s a good first step.”
“I want to talk to him.” Chase squeezes Henrik’s hand, pulling him away from the piano. “Deutsch, it’s me. He’s gone.”
“What is happening?” asks Henrik, eyes darkening. “Why are you talking like this? What’s wrong?”
scunneredzombie asked:
Chase, remember after his shutdowns sometimes Henrik would think he was existing back before Anti or he would forget where he was/who he was? This might be a more extreme version of that. Let him come around slowly.
Chase glances at the camera, his mouth tightening, but he gives a small nod, blinking. He looks back at Henrik and Henrik stares at him, obviously confused. Henrik glances around the room, seeming to take in the brick walls and the camera in Chase’s bag for the first time, and Chase sees his eyes start to glaze -
“Schneep,” he says quickly, taking his hand. “Show me how to do the scales again. I’m paying attention now.”
Henrik looks at the piano and settles down again, shooting Chase a look. “You never learn,” he teases. “Okay, set your fingers here…”
Chase lets his brother arrange his fingers. He wishes Henrik were all the way here, yes. But he thinks you’re probably right, and he just needs to be patient, and be glad to have this part of him.
Talking! He’s talking! His heart lifts and he smiles as Henrik starts showing him how to play the scale, chattering at him while Jameson stands beside them, watching along.
“How often do you play, Henrik?”
“You know I’m out here often,” he murmurs back, his free hand beginning a melody on the right side of the piano. “Even at night, after a long shift. But I try to be quiet then. Of course sometimes my more nocturnal brothers join me.”
He clucks JJ’s chin, pinching his beard.
“Are you happy?” asks Chase wistfully.
Henrik grins at him oddly. “What’s gotten into you? Things are good, my friend. What is happiness if not peace and a place in the world where you are loved.”
Beethoven down the keys of the piano, easy and affectionate.
Anonymous asked:
Henrik, how often do you play? Do you know Hava Nagila??
“Oh, boy, how Jewish am I?” snickers Henrik. “Hava Nagila, hava…”
He plays the first few lines and breaks down laughing, shaking his head. “What, I’m Jewish so I know Hava Nagila? Okay, yes, fine, I do. But I know everything. Because I’m smarter than everyone. Checkmate.”
Anonymous asked:
Hava Nagila is just my favourtie old tune haha! Of course you knew it though, no one is smarter then Henrik von Schneeplestein
“Yes, that’s true. You are not only correct but you also have good taste in music.”
Anonymous asked:
Is Henrik... back? Has he woken up? It seems at least part of him has!
Watching Henrik switch through a variety of songs - mostly at JJ’s request, Chase feels a little bit better. Here’s a part of him. Here’s… him, just a little lost. And aren’t they all?
Chase has been thinking more about Dok than Henrik for a long time now. But Henrik isn’t so different than his Dok that it makes any difference, it seems. Henrik is just a more egotistical, less scared, happier Dok. Chase snickers as Henrik melds two songs together within five seconds of JJ’s request and then congratulates his own intelligence. Isn’t this what he’s supposed to be like? Isn’t this what safety looks like on him?
He doesn’t mind. If Henrik is a little confused, he doesn’t mind.
It’s still him.
Anonymous asked:
Anti always said that you were just a more anxious Chase and he was just a quieter Henrik... Maybe you guys didn't change so much after all, hm.
Chase tentatively plays along as Henrik shows him Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. “Maybe we didn’t. Are we good friends, Henrik?”
“Course we are. Who else help you look after the children and pick you up from the party when you are dumb enough to go somewhere there is probably beer? And then you must cook me cheesecake as payment, is only fair.”
“Ah, is that what you like?”
“It’s what I demand.”
Chase laughs. He wonders how Blue and Red and Dapper can seem so different to who they used to be while Henrik doesn’t feel so different from Dok at all. Maybe they just… had each other to hold onto for longer. Someone who always knew that secret name - that secret person they used to be. They never had to be alone.
Chase and Henrik play a timid lullaby, laughing over the keys of the piano.
Anonymous asked:
Do you have any memories of where you are, Schneep..? Would you still feel okay if we told you you're not at home?
“Of where I am?”
Queenie meows at him from the couch. He glances over, but she isn’t there. The house is cool for a moment, and then growing warmer.
Henrik blinks. Looks around.
Something not quite right.
A smell of smoke in the air.
Where’s your hero now? Where’s Jack to save you and your little time traveler now? I’ll burn everything you love to the fucking ground. Just try to run, I’ll find you anywhere. I’ll stalk you til you collapse at my feet.
Henrik stares. A fire has caught along the edges of the door of their home. Outside, the trees are burning.
Chase grabs his shoulders, speaking to him, though Henrik cannot make out the words. He lays his head down on Chase’s shoulder almost on instinct, staring as everything around him begins to change. He hears the cat scream. His head hurts.
“Oh,” he murmurs, as Chase’s hand rises to touch his cheek. “Oh, who did this to you? Why did you not call me?”
He examines Chase’s hand. There is a marred, puckered section of skin, burned badly, maybe down to the bone. Henrik feels sorrow and then fear. He can hear Chase crying. He closes his eyes. He needs to hide. He needs to - needs to go away, needs to - survive this somehow, survive this somehow…
“Oh, I am going to have so much fun with you,” a dark voice growls. “We’re done. You’re useless to me. And that means I’m finally going to slaughter one of you little fucking bastards like I should have done a long time ago.”
“Anti - Anti, n-no more, no more… I want my brothers, I want…”
“No cameras, Dok, no siblings, and no more fucking pretending. I’ll show you just how much of a monster I really am. Just you, me, and a length of barbed wire. I’ve heard that Jews believe you die twice - once when your body gives out and one when everyone forgets you. I’ll be the one who kills you both times, Henrik.”
A line of wire clatters across the floor.
“That’s a promise.”
scunneredzombie asked:
Henrik, stay calm. Anti is dead. Anti is dead and you're free. You have a home with all of your brothers again, an apartment where you all live safely. You have Noodle and Chase and all your siblings who love you and regret not being there to protect you. You are safe and loved still, even if you aren't in the mirror portal you remember.
Henrik doesn’t shake or cry out as his memories swallow him up.
“Dok,” calls Chase, holding his shoulders tight. “Look at me, stay with me. You’re okay. I promise. We been looking after you. It’s okay now. It’s okay.”
His head just sinks down until his chin hits his chest, his eyes sliding shut and his posture curling, like he can hide himself from everything in the world. Chase tries to be gentle with him, tries to ground him at the same time. Soft hands on him. Murmuring to him. Trying not to let him know he’s scared.
After a while, Henrik’s breathing steadies out again. Chase soothes his finger across his chin, trying to draw his gaze, and Schneep looks up at him with big, sorrowful eyes.
Chase sighs and lays his head down on his twin’s shoulder. JJ pecks at the keys of the piano, and after another minute, Henrik takes an interest. He puts a hand out and plays a shy scale, sniffling a little and sitting up, calm again, but silent.
Anonymous asked:
"And just as there is wonder in / every new life created / there is sadness and regret / for the unsaid and unfeted / Just listen for the music / that your ears cannot hear / just strain yourself for the melody / that's so far and yet so near"
Henrik goes back to Clair de Lune, slower now, sweeter.
JJ and Chase sit in silence beside him. When he’s finished, Chase rubs his back until he glances over at him.
“That’s okay, man,” says Chase quietly. “You can just hide a while longer if you need to.”
Henrik gazes at him.
“Ready to go?” Chase asks his brothers, trying not to be sad.
JJ nods. “Maybe if he wakes up in the apartment, he’ll feel safer there. With the cat and your bed and everything.”
“And I can bring him back for services sometime.”
“Yeah.”
“It’ll be okay?”
“Yeah. It’ll all be okay.”
“Okay. Come on.”
immabethehero asked:
You did it! You’re out the woods, I’m so proud of you guys! You deserve to relax and enjoy your peaceful lives.
JJ laughs quietly, watching Chase talk to Henrik quietly on the bus, the pair of them pressed close together.
“Out of the woods… well, the trees get thinner every day, at least. Yes. Let’s go home and relax a little.”
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