#but pouring my grief/work feelings into Ed is a constant

[epersonae]

⭐️, what makes me kind?

While I am feeling a little bit maudlin already, here's some thoughts about the last scene in Chapter 3 of what makes me kind....

One of the things about my obsession with Our Flag Means Death is about the grief. And with the whole Kraken heel turn thing, the pressure to perform a worksona while going through immense grief.

This was the first scene that I wrote where I was actively thinking, I want to channel this thing that I have been going through directly into this character. I want to describe things that I have felt, but obliquely: this fictional character, he's having a bad time, etc etc.

And there's three bits of that which I feel very strongly about:

“Answer your captain,” says Iz, and it’s like he doesn’t have to do anything, just be inside of this face, inside of this shape, and the world bends itself back to what it wants.

And it sort of goes on like that, that people will just expect you to slot back into the person they knew before, and if you're good enough at faking it, well, then, yeah. (Loved dissociating at my old job when I had to go back to the office; good times.) But then when he's alone:

In the quiet and the dark of the middle of the night, all the anger and restlessness ebbs away, like a low tide leaving creatures gasping in the air. Leaving him gasping in the emptiness of a room where he’d been happy, and what had that got him? If he closes his eyes, he can see it: the table laid with food (and too many kinds of spoons), the roaring fire, the shelves full of books and art and strange little trinkets, the rugs spread across the floor, the way the sun fell through that window there, when they tacked eastward, and it caught on the golden glints in — he thinks of the light in Stede’s hair, the light in Stede’s eyes, the light of that fucking smile. It catches in his chest, the image of light and color, and the memory of being happy.

I did in fact write that while remembering very vividly the living room in the house that Ryn and I lived in (I had to move! a week after they died! it's a long story and I'm still mad about it!) which was a room with lots of windows full of art that we'd put up, mostly together. It was a great space, and we were happy. "the light of that fucking smile" indeed. :(

And then I think I actually spooked @emi--rose when she was betaing with this last passage. She asked me if it was the bit that I wrote while at the Mountain Goats concert, and I said "oh no it's just a random Tuesday." [grief dab]

The sound he makes feels like it comes from deep in his chest and at the same time from somewhere outside of his body. It’s not even crying ( don’t fucking cry ) so much as it is a wailing, the screeching sound of something inside him coming apart. He takes a breath, realizes, yes, it is the middle of the night and he’s making an ungodly noise, and right, none of that.

Grief fucking sucks. Losing your partner and best friend fucking sucks. I've cried in ways that I didn't know existed before this. On a good day, at least I can turn it into art, at least.

One last tidbit about this chapter: I've thought a lot about names and naming conventions, and what people call each other in this fic, especially since there's so much POV switching. When I first started writing this chapter, and was trying to decide what name to use for Ed when it's in his POV, it struck me very intensely that no option felt quite right. And so it's been tricky writing, but I'm committed to the sections with his POV not ever using his name. At least not until a specific turning point...

[detectivesofty]

staking your claim | j.h.

Summary: Natalie has problems with Nina and you’re helping out, like the good future sister (in-law??) you are

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Doctor!Reader / Natalie Manning x Will Halstead / Nina Shore x Will Halstead

Song I listened to while writing: Bust Your Windows by Glee (cuz it’s a fucking bop)

Author’s Note: I literally wrote this in one sitting bc I got inspired lmao. This is very heavily centered around Natalie and Reader’s friendship, because I feel like Nat needs someone in her corner. This takes place in Season 2, Ep. 19 of Chicago Med and I know Jay and Reader’s relationship doesn’t make sense canon-wise, but this is a fanfic after all, so let’s just pretend that Jay and Reader have been in a commited relationship with each other for a while. Happy reading!

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 1,9k

“Hey Y/N,” Nina greeted you and you barely glanced up to greet her back, your focus entirely on your notes. Nina then turned to Natalie, who was standing right next to you.

“Hey Natalie. Can I ask you a favor?”

Natalie, held a finger up. “Uhm, one second,” she said, turning back to April. “Hey April, can you try and track down Connor for me?”

“Alright.”

“Thank you!” Natalie turned back to Nina, the stress written all over her face. “Sorry. What’s up?”

“I was going to give this to Will, but he’s busy. Can I leave it with you?”

That suddenly got your attention. Why would Nina ever ask Natalie for a favor regarding Will?

Natalie paused as well. “Sure,” she then replied, reaching a hand out for the jersey.

“He’s going to watch the game with his brother tonight. I slept in it last night and when he left this morning I was still in bed,” Nina added with a laugh and you furrowed your brows, while you kept your head down. 

“I’d leave it in his locker but I wanted to make sure he gets it.”

You rolled your eyes, but put on a smile when Nina looked at you. She wasn’t the best actress and you could see right through her act, even if Natalie didn’t.

Natalie seemed a bit lost as she held the jersey, glancing at you briefly. “... Okay?”

“Thanks. You’re the best. Bye Y/N, see you later!” Nina called over to you before leaving the ED. 

You forced a smile and waved at her, before turning to Natalie. She was still staring at the jersey in her hands and you nudged her gently. 

“Hey you okay?” 

Natalie nodded quickly, putting the jersey away. “Yeah, I am fine… But Nina was acting weird, right?”

Chuckling, you shrugged with your shoulders. You didn’t really like Nina with Will, if you were honest. She seemed nice enough, but you never clicked with her, despite her constant efforts to spend time with you. In your eyes, Natalie was the perfect one for Will. Especially because you knew of Will’s feelings for Natalie, you know, before the thing with Nina started. 

“Duh. She’s trying to mark her territory, it was so obvious.”

“What?” 

“I am pretty sure that she sees you as a threat, Nat. And the other day-”

“Doctor Manning, Doctor Y/L/N! Incoming, vehicular accident, two girls and their mother!”

Natalie gave you a look, which meant she was in no way done with this conversation. But for the meantime, you took care of the two hurt girls. Unfortunately, the day didn’t progress as you had expected it to go. The hospital’s server got hacked and you had to resort to old-fashioned blackboards, without knowing patients’ medical history. 

At the end of the day, you were completely exhausted and just wanted to fall in bed. You threw your jacket on and grabbed your purse, when Natalie came into the lounge. 

“Hey Y/N, are you going home?” 

You gave her a tired smile and nodded. “Yeah, I am beat.”

“I wanted to talk about the thing you mentioned this morning…?”

Frowning, you thought back to earlier until you finally remembered. “Oh yeah, uhm. Do you maybe want to come over? Jay’s watching the game at a bar with Will so I’ll be alone tonight.”

“Yeah, sure. That sounds nice. I’ll just swing by Helen real quick to check on Owen, and then I’ll come over, yeah?”

Nodding, you gave her a thumbs up, rubbing her shoulder. “See you later, Nat.” With that, you left the ED and drove home to an empty apartment. The moment you stepped into your home, you let out a loud sigh at the sight of Jay’s shoes being all over the place. Moving in together was Jay’s idea. Your jobs ate up a lot of your time and when Jay was on a hard case, you often had gone days without seeing each other. Living together had a lot of pros, but that was before you knew Jay loved leaving his shoes where he took them off, which could be basically anywhere in the apartment. 

But you loved that man, so you’d put them away for now and kick his ass later. 

Dropping off your purse on its designated place, you headed to the shower straight away. After a refreshing shower, you ordered pizza for you and Natalie, when a text from Jay came in.

Jay: hey babe, you home yet?

You: yeah, just got out of the shower

Jay: Without me?😜

You: First of all, ew You: second of all, you’re too old to be using emojis

Jay: 😭

You: nat’s coming over now and I just ordered some pizza

Jay: okay, have fun, love you Jay: save me some slices!

You: Love you too. And no!

At that moment, the doorbell rang and you put the phone away to open the door, expecting either Natalie or the delivery guy. But instead, it was Natalie, the delivery girl. 

“I bumped into the delivery boy on my way up and paid him,” Natalie said and you beamed at her, ushering her in. 

“You didn’t have to do that. Come in!”

You grabbed a bottle of wine and two wine glasses, then situated yourself on the couch with Natalie. The two of you devoured a couple of slices before Natalie spoke up. 

“So. About what you said this morning… Why would Nina see me as a threat? I don’t see Will that way.”

Pouring yourself another glass of wine, you gave Natalie a look. “Really? I see the way you look at him, Nat. The two of you have always been dancing around each other. Nina has eyes, she can see that.”

Natalie opened her mouth, frowning, before she closed it again. 

“I never did anything while they were dating, I swear,” she insisted and you gave her a smile. 

“I know, Natalie. No one thinks that, I promise.”

“It’s just…” She sighed. “At first, I didn’t want to rush into a relationship, because I haven’t worked through my grief yet. And then Will wanted to move on, which I totally understood. And with Jeff, I thought he was the right one, considering his history with my Jeff. But then he turned out to be the complete opposite. And now… Will’s with Nina and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“At this point, I think you should just let their relationship run its course. I know it sounds kind of mean to say that, but I don’t think that they’re a good fit. You and Will are. You challenge each other, but also make each other better. I can see how you look at him when you think no one is watching; Will looks at you the same way, Nat.”

You could see the hope glimmer in her eyes and while you didn’t want your friend to get hurt, since Will and Nina are in fact still dating and even living together, you knew how right you were. You spent endless hours talking to Will about Natalie and you knew that feelings like that didn’t disappear overnight. 

“I just don’t want Nina to think I am trying to step on her toes and ruin their relationship, you know,” Natalie added. “The way she acted today kind of intimidated me.”

“Yeah I totally get that. She was acting a bit crazy,” you laughed and Natalie grinned at you, nudging you with her shoulder. 

“Enough about me and my problems. How are things with Jay?”

“Oh, things are good.”

The rest of the night passed in a blur while you and Natalie talked about everything and everyone. Nights like these were much too rare and you enjoyed spending time with your friends outside of work. It was nearing one am when you heard keys jangling at the front door, you and Natalie instinctively turning to the door. 

As the door opened, Jay stilled in the doorway, like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Hey Jay.” 

“Hey babe.”

Jay waved, slightly abashed as he took his shoes off. “Hey guys, thought you were already in bed,” he mumbled, walking over to the couch to press a kiss on your head and high five Natalie. “I am just going to go to the bathroom real quick,” Jay told you and disappeared into the bathroom. 

“I think that’s my cue to leave,” Natalie said, yawning loudly. “Don’t want to be too tired for work tomorrow.” 

You walked her to the door and leaned against the doorway while she collected her things.

“Thanks for today, Y/N. I really needed that.”

Smiling, you pulled her in a tight hug. “Anytime, Nat. That’s what friends are for. Get home safely, okay?” 

“I will. Say bye to Jay for me,” Natalie answered and you nodded, waving before you closed the door. With a yawn, you locked it and trudged over to the coffee table to clean it up, throwing the pizza cartons in the trash and putting the wine glasses in the dishwasher. You looked up when Jay came out of the bathroom, looking around. 

“Nat already left?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Yeah. It’s late and we have work tomorrow. You okay?”

“Mhm,” Jay nodded, leaning in to kiss you. The kiss was short and sweet, which made you smile against his lips. You pulled away after a while, observing him. His cheeks were flushed and it was obvious he’s had a few beers. 

“What did you guys talk about?”

You snorted out a laugh. “Uh, about Will.”

“What about Will?” Jay raised a confused eyebrow. 

“You know. Will and Nat. Nina came up to her today, trying to stake her claim. Waving around Will’s jersey like it was a prize. It was ridiculous.”

Jay laughed, shaking his head. “She did? Nina’s crazy.”

Shrugging with your shoulders, you pursed your lips. “I kinda get her. I mean, if anyone would even think about getting with my man, I’d whack them.”

“Yeah?” Jay asked, smirking at you in amusement. “You’d be willing to go to prison for me?”

“As if you’d let me go to prison,” you snorted and he chuckled, leaning his forehead against yours. 

“Yeah you’re right. Can’t let anyone hurt my girl.” 

You felt warmth spreading in your chest, just like it did everytime Jay called you his girl, even after all this time. 

“You wanna go to bed?” Jay asked softly and you nodded, looking up at him. 

“Carry me?”

He groaned out, but complied anyway, hooking his arms under your thighs to hoist you up, carrying you into the bedroom. The two of you quickly got changed and slipped under the sheets, cuddling up. 

“You know,” Jay murmured, nosing along your neck. “I think you’re right about Will and Natalie. He’s still got that look in his eyes when he talks about her.”

“Yeah? I thought so. He should stop leading Nina on, then. It’s not really fair.”

“Tell him. He listens to you more.”

You rolled your eyes and swatted Jay’s hands away, reaching for your phone to text Will.

You: Get your head in the game, Will. If you still have feelings for Natalie, you should end things with Nina. It’s not fair for either of them. 

Unsurprisingly, ellipses popped up a minute later.

Will is typing…

Will: You’re right. Thanks.

[love-we-write]

Eccedentesiast

Character: RichyxMC (ambiguous platonic or romantic)  Genre: Hurt/Comfort? Friendship/Romance? Unbeta-ed mess is for certain Words: 4,188  Summary: Richy is used to being known to be able to bring a little bit of comical sunshine to everybody’s gloom. He’s just not used to letting anyone know that he’s burning behind that light. But then, you appeared in his life.  Potential T/W: mentions of panic attacks   A/N: Done in conjunction with the Duskwood Secret Santa event~! Dear @anatomical-myocardium, Merry Christmas to you~! Sorry this took so long to post, I swear my laptop crashes on me at the most inconvenient time sometimes. I hope I did this justice as a gift to you, and I hope you like it, just as I absolutely love your gift to me~! Have a safe and happy Christmas~!  ❤️ ❤️

And with a renewed vow to write anything and everything that I want to write without minding if it’s a game, or an anime, or an anime game, or Kpop, here we go~!  ❤️ ❤️

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Richy is most known by his friends and all the Duskwood residents for his carefree nature, and he is very much aware of this. 

With his small group of friends, he has been the joker of the group longer than memory can serve, always light-hearted with that small touch of dry humor to help liven up the mood. From their weekly battle of Doodle Friends to their catch up session at Aurora’s, all seven of them look to Richy to brighten their days with his quick-witted comebacks and his lame jokes that gets even Lily - ever the serious one - to chuckle.

At his job, his bright personality makes him one of the select few who could talk to Alfie without unnerving the boy, and from greeting old ladies who pass by his shop to chatting away with his customers while he repairs their cars, everyone does not have qualms to admit that Richy’s easy-going nature is his most admirable trait, a warm relaxing ray of sunshine that comes out and give others a bit of cheer on their gloomy days.

Richy knows that his ability to not take things too seriously gives comfort to his friends. 

Richy knows this, knows it in the way Jessy thanks him for being there for her when she is frustrated with how Dan is treating her affections, knows it in the way Thomas looks at him silently yet gratefully when he brought them to Aurora’s and filled them with a copious amount of beers and stupid jokes for a self-proclaimed “pity party” after Thomas’ fight with Hannah. 

He knows it during the wake of Hannah’s absence when Thomas is on the verge of breaking down, and when Jessy fought with Cleo over how to handle the investigation, Lilly had reached out to him in the middle of the night,  quiet words of “I feel like you’re the only one keeping this group together,” mumbled into the phone in between sniffles.

Richy knows he is most known for his easy-going personality, and he is used to it. 

He is also used to that horrible feeling of uselessness constantly haunting him in the deep dark solace of his mind. That sinking in his stomach, the heaviness settling in his core as he contemplates whether he has anything worthwhile at all anything good to offer to this world, the constant feeling that he doesn’t have anything at all. It is a dark void spanning the crevasse of his mind that comes up in his solitude, whispering that he is not good enough, that he does not deserve grief and his fear is only going to burden his loved ones.

Because who is he to voice out his sadness and anguish when everybody else has so much on their plate already? Who is he to want to cry at Jessy to look at him, just LOOK AT HIM WHO HAS BEEN THERE FOR YOU when she is heartbroken herself. What right does he have to voice out his grief, his guilt at being the first one to come to Hannah’s house but still unable to save her anyway? What right does he have to say these things, when he only had lost a friend while Thomas lost a girlfriend and Lilly a sister? 

What right does he have?

So, Richy does what he does best. He smiles. He jokes. And he hides. He stopped trying to figure out the line inside him where his smile ends and his fear starts. To him, they all bleed together.

Richy is used to being known to be able to bring a little bit of comical sunshine to everybody’s gloom. He’s just not used to letting anyone know that he’s burning behind the light.   

------------------------------------ 

 But then, you appeared in his life. You with your contagious kindness, you who are the one person who does not have any personal stakes with Hannah in this investigation but still decided to help out of the sheer good in your heart. 

Richy sometimes thought that you were highly naive when you said that them getting your number and bringing you in this group must have meant that there is something that you could do instead of just seeing it as it is; an ominous invitation from an unknown hacker. However, that thought of your naivete is blown out of the water when he witnessed your bright-eyed curiosity and your sharp perception. 

‘You like Jessy, don’t you?’ you had texted him out of the blue during one of your conversations when during the first few days after you appeared in their lives.

Richy swore he almost dropped his phone in his coffee when he read your text. No one has ever picked up on his one-sided affections towards Jessy, not even their group, not even Jessy herself who has been his close friend. 

He has always been wary of you when Thomas first invited you in. A stranger whose number was given to them by another stranger seemed to Richy like a well-timed disaster waiting to explode in their faces. Richy liked to think of himself as neutral when it comes to matters of your involvement; skeptical enough to not be desperate as Thomas but to the point of hostility that Lilly has shown. 

But with your eagle-eyed intuition, Richy realized he had to be extra careful with himself around you.

‘Uh, gotta go. Coffee’s about ready and I need that caffeine injection for my sanity, in case some more shit happens around here, haha,’ he had typed quickly, adding in several emojis in succession for some good measure. He puts the phone face down almost immediately, as if that would help distract him from your reply, and busies himself with work.

‘That’s okay. Coffee sounds like a great idea. The next time you want to subtly avoid having uncomfortable conversations about yourself, I have a list of ideas :D,’ was your reply to him when he checked his phone during his break. 

Mirth bubbles up in Richy, a feeling of familiarity and comfort fizzing up in him like downing cold soda on a hot summer day. Richy chuckles towards his phone, seeing as you really did provide him with a list of excuses to make to get out of conversation, each item sillier than the previous one.

Your entrance into his and the way Richy felt you seeing through to him feels like a breath of fresh air.

------------------------------------

‘Richy, hi.’ 

 Richy smiles, looking at his phone vibrated on the countertop as he is pouring his third cup of coffee for the day. Seems like the weekend is as good as any for him to gather his thoughts to himself, to compartmentalize his feelings away from the crowd, but the texts from you over the days is a welcome distraction. 

From asking him about Jennifer Manson, to asking him about the phone call he made on the day of Hannah’s disappearance, to random conversation about your favorite movies or music, messages from you have become something he looks forward to daily. He found himself slowly thinking more and more of you; whether you are okay, what you have been doing among other things

‘Now, what more information does my lady seek from me?’ he types quickly, anticipating as the three dots beside your name blinks back at him. 

‘Good sir, is it such a crime if I just want to inquire about your day? :(’

Richy would be lying if he said that his heart did not skip a few beats over those words.

‘Our previous conversations would indicate that you always would have things to ask me after you know about how my day went, so out you go. :D’

It feels nice to see you playing along with his jokes.

‘Cleo told me you fought with your dad?’

Ah.

Not information about Hannah’s disappearance then. Which, to him, is much much easier to divulge.

‘That girl is going to get into trouble one day over how much she’s eavesdropping.’

‘I know. But more importantly, are you okay?’

Are you okay? Wow, Richy thinks as he stares at his idle phone. A simple question, but look at how he is struggling to answer. So he quickly typed in.

‘I’m okay, don’t worry, haha. Listen, the cat outside my apartment is literally meowing my window panes down, I better go check up on it before it eats itself,’ Richy began typing his response, as if him staring down the digitized letters will give him some form of epiphany over what the best course of action is. 

Excuse #12 from that ridiculous list that you gave him from weeks ago. From feeding non-existent stray cats outside his house to a car needing their tires changed, it quickly became an inside understanding between the two of you that this is a signal that he does not want to talk about it. 

But, inside, he wants to talk about it. Wants to talk to you about how this fight is a series of continuous disagreements between him and his father over how to run the family’s garage. Wants to talk about how this garage is not what he envisioned doing in his adult year, that he has no interest whatsoever in running the family’s business. How he had wanted to be a photographer, but was forced to run the garage by his dad to continue the family business. 

And how each time his father berates him over the losses their garage suffered due to the new competing garage in town, he feels a slight vendetta to bring up that he is never interested in what happens in this garage but is only doing it for his father.

He has long perfected the art of hiding anything of him that isn’t polished and brightened, so when you picked it up immediately, he felt flustered. Flustered because he doesn’t know what to do when faced with the idea of someone perceptive as you catching his vulnerabilities that he is ashamed of. But, also flustered with the fact that he feels a small sense of comfort that someone took time to notice the small things about him, and that deep inside, he feels some small part of him wanting to reach back out.

For now, he just added a bunch of cheerful emojis for good measure and hits send.

He wants to talk about it. He wants to.

‘You know, I don’t expect you to exhaust that list so quickly. I would have thought it’d be good for at least 2-3 months.’ came your reply.

‘I worry about you, Richy.’

------------------------------------ 

And it is true, you are worried for him. It has been close to three weeks since you first got added into this strange group, and if truth be told, you would never have thought that you’d be as invested as you are now. You could not deny that Jessy and Richy were two of the friends you never thought that you would care for as much as you did. You know that Jake had warned you over the group, and you ARE a bit more wary of some more than others, but you did not expect your trust to go wholeheartedly to this small trio that you have formed with Jessy and Richy. 

Jessy is the sweetest girl you have ever met in the world, always kind. She has this effect around people that made them feel cared for, and you are thankful how she had welcomed you and helped you out when everyone else seems to think you are the kidnapper.She wears her heart on a sleeve, and she trusts easily, but she means well. And Richy…

Richy is an enigma. On surface level, it seems that he is a bright ray of sunshine, all lighthearted jokes and wit, a perfect comedic complement to Jessy’s more emotional tendencies, but you notice the things that made Richy much more complex than he lets on.

You see his calm and composed nature when he is the one to suggest the group to think more critically in the case of your appearance and Hannah’s disappearance, how he calmed everyone down and brought their spirits up. But you also see his aversion to talking about how he himself feels.

Even though he does not show it, you know the incident with Hannah affected him just as much as it had affected everybody else. You see the sprinkle of emotions he has shown, from Jessy who told you how quiet he had been on the day his garage was spray painted with the sign of the raven, to his deprecating jokes about himself when you asked about the phone call he had made to Hannah on the day of her disappearance. 

You see that sliver of fear, that glimpse of guilt over those short moments, but come any closer and you could miss it with how subtly and skillfully he averts to more cheerful topics.

But that’s the thing. You worry for him. Jessy goes to the both of you for comfort while Dan goes to Jessy. Lilly has her family, Cleo goes to Thomas and Thomas’s grief is acknowledged and heard by all of them.

But who listens to Richy? Who gives Richy their shoulder for him to grief? Who lift up his spirits the way he does to you? For now, all you can do is put your phone close to your ear, Richy’s number dialing in the background. 

‘I worry about you, Richy.’

‘It gets better, I promise you. You don’t have to be alone. I’m here for you,’ you added under your previous text. It goes unanswered and your calls only gets redirected to voicemail. So all you can do is hold your phone close to you, placing your lips on its receiver, only able to hope that it goes to him, that his cheeks or his forehead feels the warmth as a sign that you are here for him.

Miles away, in Duskwood, Richy only stares in his phone longingly, wanting to call you. 

‘I’m here for you.’ your text that had him feeling hopeful, comforted and flustered him all the same.

It has been a long time since someone sees through him so transparently, heck, the void in him has bled together with his façade so much that even he himself cannot see through the layers of sunshine to where his dark insecurities start. He has crafted so many walls, perfected so many smiles that it even fooled Jessy, the person most close to him here in Duskwood. Perhaps at some point, maybe he even fooled himself.

And yet, here you are. Effortlessly breaking through those walls like it’s paper, unblinded by the fake shine he puts on, and sees the darkness in him for what it is. He has to laugh at that as he leaned his forehead on his phone, somehow feeling a sense of comfort just in doing that. What have you done to him? 

Perhaps one day he can begin to talk about it.

------------------------------------ 

 That day came sooner that he thought it would be. That night in December, it snowed heavily in Duskwood. Angry snow fell down in a furious blizzard, gusts of wind wailing outside in anguish, doors and window panes shaking almost in fear. Sometimes, the wailing picks up speed and bangs on the window with a scream.

Inside, Richy is just as furious, just as anguished as the blizzard outside. The man without a face seems hell-bent in getting them to stop finding Hannah and to obtain your location. Richy would bend over backwards and go to hell twice before letting your location fall in its hands. And with the search not showing any signs of stopping, so did the threats to them.

Today, it took the threat to another level when it involved their families as well. Richy had woken up with a call from his father. He had expected the call to be his father picking up another fight with him, but the urgency in his father’s voice and the manic sobbing of his mother in the background struck a cold chord in him.

It turned out that his family house has been vandalized with the signs of the raven, only this time it is worse than the one did in the garage. The windows were splashed with red paint, with papers jammed in their mailbox full of threatening letters of ‘give me her’ and ‘Richy, you’re next’. It took him a good two hours to scrub the windows clean, and then another hour to comfort his mother that this is just a prank pulled by some reckless vandals, to clean up the papers from the mailbox and throw them in the trash.

But, deep inside he knows it. This is not a prank. This is a threat to him. To them.

Duskwood is a small town. People will talk and come tomorrow, his friends will find out. He needs time. He needs time to sort out his thoughts. Time to properly compartmentalize.

He needs time to sort out through his guilt of not being able to protect his family from being terrorized from the man without a face. There is the fury with the fact that it has been established that the man without a face is someone within their circle, given how much they know about your presence.

He needs time.

There is the fear that you, being the lynch pin to all that the man without a face wanted from them, will be burdened more. He needs time to sort through the fear that he could not protect you, and even though it is for the best interest of your safety that none of them knows where you are, you are still all alone having to pick up after these seven dysfunctional people and no one to protect you.

Then, there is the confusion, the stress, the angry sadness that this is a game that he has to continue to play with his friends. The betrayal that one of them, one of his close friends is responsible for this, that they could have the balls to laugh with him, smile with him and turn around and do this to him. 

He needs time to sort through this anger and he doesn’t have the courage to face them and continue playing this game tomorrow, not when all he wanted to do is lash out at each one of them and threaten them and ohgodheneedstimeheneedstime-- 

In the solace of his room in his family home, Richy feels his thoughts become as white as the blizzard of snow outside. He hears his breath quickens, a voiceless wail stuck in his throat and he feels the shivers in his spine like the doors trembling in front of the wind.

Heneedstimeohgodpleasegivehimabitoftime----

And like a lifeline, his phone besides him rang and vibrated and he clutched it to him like a lifeline. Like a miracle in December, he sees that it’s your name. Somewhere in his blank white thoughts, he hears a small chuckle and how impeccable your timing is.

He answers and your voice in his ears sounded like a buoy thrown to him that is flailing about.

“Richy, I had a bad feeling about something. Is everyone okay?” and Richy hears himself laugh at that, a horrible mixture of a broken laugh and a hiccup and a helpless wail, all mixed up to become a horrible wounded noise.

Over on your side of the phone, your heart picked up pace when you heard that choked laughter from Richy. It is horrible and it is scary and you would never want to hear it from anyone again, least of all not Richy. He is having a panic attack.

“Richy, are you okay?! Richy, listen to me. Breathe with me, sweetheart. Breathe in, breathe out,” deep inside you tried to stay calm because that is what he needs, but even you feel like being on the verge of tears listening to this man - who has cheered you up so much - break down in front of you.

After he seemed to have calmed down, you tried again.

“Richy, what’s wrong? Please talk to me. You deserve to not be alone in this Richy. I see you. I see you smiling to get everyone to smile. You listened to me and you lifted up my mood when Jessy was attacked, and when I received threats over Lilly’s video. Let me do the same to you, yeah? Tell me what’s wrong?”

And to Richy, who has clutched onto your voice like a lifeline, who wants to share everything with you, just burst like a dam. Everything that he has kept secret from his friends, the sadness behind his smile, everything that he has even kept from himself and just swept under the rug and pushed into a closet at the back of his mind. Everything burst right there in front of you, from his guilt to not being able to stop Hannah’s kidnapping and Jessy’s attack, to him feeling unworthy of being sad compared to others, to his fear when he saw the sign of the raven in his garage and now on his home, his fury at knowing one of his friends are doing this, to his fear for Jessy, his fear for you. 

He hated everything. He hated himself.

You told him that he is strong, that you admired him so much, but he needs to see that he deserves to be comforted just as much as he has comforted everyone else. 

In that snowstorm-clad night, the winds wept and wept, but beneath its howl, you can hear the intermittent wail of a broken man as Richy cried, and cried, and cried. 

As he lets out everything, the blank white fog of his mind begins to clear and gain color. It started from the reds of fury, to the blacks of fear and the blues of guilt, but then your voice came in, and slowly the pinks of comfort, the yellows of hope and the purples of peace began melting through. 

------------------------------------ 

[EPILOGUE]

Both you and Richy sat over the phone for over 3 hours just talking about nothing and everything after his outburst. 

He seems to have gained his color back, his cheerful self almost back as he cracked his lame stories about gangster seagulls eating his sandwich once in his travels. Richy feels like this time, his color - albeit still a little faded - is much more genuine than the blacks filtered from a rose-colored glass that he has shown before. Your laughter as you listen to his story and object to its credibility, slowly made those faded colors in his mind more vibrant.

“Thank you for listening to me, for um… taking care of me,” he begins a bit meekly after he finishes his story. He’s not so used to being listened to, not at this vulnerable a level and definitely he is not used to being taken care of.

“You did the same to me when Jessy was attacked. And you would have done the same for me again, I’m sure of it,” your voice sounded like a smile would, and God, would he give up everything to see that smile in person. He laughs to himself internally. How has this person made him so whipped for her in such a manner?

“I’m planning on going to Duskwood soon,” you had said out of the blue, bringing him back from his reverie.

“Absolutely not. In case you forgot my magnificent show of tears just now, the man without a face is threatening us to get to you. You coming here is the absolute worst thing to do,” Richy snorted, a mock indignant and wounded tone from him that made you chuckle.

“Well, how bad can it be? If we keep my arrival a secret from the rest of them, and spend the days, just you, me and Jessy, it wouldn’t hurt, would it? Someone needs to go there and give you a hug and take care of you,” you had replied back shortly, almost giving no thought to what you had said.

“Oh my, my lady, are you flirting with me?” Richy’s exaggerated gasp brought you back to reality, and his implication had your heart skipping beats.

“Well I mean… um…” you stuttered, and Richy swore your hesitance and stuttering made his heart soar just a little bit more in hope. But pursuing it is for another time.

“W-Well, someone needs to stop you from being such an eccedentesiast!” you had blurted out, extremely grateful that the distance makes it unable for him to see your bright red hot face.

His laughter after that sounds like the most genuine you have heard from him so far, and he might have said something along the lines of “nooo use small words, your idiot here doesn’t understand what that means,” but you couldn’t remember clearly. All you remembered was you thinking that you would give almost anything to protect that genuine tinkling laughter of his.