#or am i gonna start teaching them wh-movement without bothering to explain the basics of generative syntax?

[after-perfect]

Just know that the words "this will be on the final" are going to come out of my mouth.

the spn drama could take a whole year to explain in the least so i’m good

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Resurgence

A Jacksepticeye Fan Fiction

Part Four: Conversations

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Summary: Chase manages to call Stacy and ask if the kids are alright, but he gets some strange responses. The boys decide to go their separate ways, and Chase and Schneep find a surprise waiting for them at Chase’s house.

(This is...all dialogue. Basically. Just thought I’d let you know)

Chase had retreated to the bathroom. He hadn’t wanted to do this in front of everyone else, and it would’ve been weird to go in Jackie’s bedroom. He could still hear the others talking amicably through the door.

No use putting it off. he took out his phone and stared at the number on the screen for a few tense moments, before finally screwing up the courage and making the call.

It rang for a long time, long enough that Chase worried she’d see his number on the caller ID and ignore it. But the ringing stopped. “Hello?”

Chase took a shaky breath. “Hey, Stacy.”

Silence. Then, “What do you want, Chase?”

This was going better than expected. She didn’t sound angry, just oddly neutral. “I was just checking in. You know, seeing how things are going. How’re the kids?”

“You don’t need to ask that, do you?” Ah, there was the snappish, critical tone she usually employed. “You’ll get to see them tomorrow. You can wait until then.”

“I know, I just...you never know, you know?” Chase laughed nervously. He hesitated, then forced out the question. “Um, can I talk to them?”

More silence from Stacy, white noise stepping in to fill the void. “I don’t know, Chase, can you?”

“Wh-what?” Chase stuttered at his ex’s tone. It was unusually venomous, even for her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, what is it supposed to mean?”

“St-Stacy, did I...did I do something?” More than he normally did to offend her, he meant.

“You did a whole hell of a lot, Chase. A whole hell of a lot.” A click, then a dial tone. She’d hung up.

Chase just stared at the screen of his phone. He’d known this wasn’t going to go well. He’d known Stacy was going to be passive-aggressive at best, and blatantly hostile at worst. But this? What did it mean? What was she blaming him for this time? His mind raced as he thought through everything he could’ve done wrong in the last month. Was she upset that Bobby cut her arm up last weekend? That wasn’t really his fault, she’d just fallen in a thorn bush. But she’d done that because he hadn’t been watching her...

“Chase! Are you done?”

Jackie’s voice rescued Chase from his downward spiral. He shook his head, then pocketed the phone and left the bathroom.

Things had changed a bit. Marvin was rummaging in the kitchenette’s cabinets, JJ standing nearby. Jackie was standing, bouncing up and down nervously. Schneep was still sitting on the couch, but he’d switched his old doctor’s coat for one of Jackie’s old hoodies, a baggy blue one.

“Everything go okay?” Jackie asked.

“I mean, it could’ve gone worse,” Chase shrugged. “She didn’t yell or anything.”

“That’s great, but what about the kids? Are they okay?”

“I...don’t know. She didn’t let me talk to them, and I think she was, I dunno, implying they were okay? But she made some sort of weird comments. I think she’s mad at me for something.”

“She usually is,” Marvin called from the kitchenette.

“Ha ha yeah,” Chase laughed off the painful truth of that comment. “But I mean, something specific. Something she expected me to know about, but I have no idea what that could be.”

Should you go call on her? JJ asked.

“Call on...? Oh. No, I don’t think stopping by her house would do anything. She probably wouldn’t let me in,” Chase sighed. “I mean, tomorrow’s the start of the weekend. If I go over to pick up the kids and they’re not there, we have something to worry about. But that’s kind of wasting time if they are missing...” Of course, that’s all he was. A waste of time.

As if sensing his thoughts, Schneep jumped into the conversation for the first time. “It is not wasting time, my friend,” he said. “Short of breaking into her house, there is not much to do, and I know you will not like to do that. You are letting this into your head when it should not be there. You have to have faith that you can fix these things.”

Jackie nodded in agreement. “Yeah, things are gonna turn out alright. We’re all gonna help you get Bobby and Trevor back. I can do some patrolling tonight, see if there’s anything suspicious. And maybe our magic men know something that could help too.”

Marvin and JJ looked at each other. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to scry, would you?” Marvin asked.

JJ nodded. I know the theory. Never got it to work.

“That’s ‘cause really good scrying isn’t magick, it’s magic. Luckily, I can help with that. God, it would’ve been fucking helpful if I’d bothered to learn it myself, we wouldn’t have to go through some sorta teaching session. But anyway,” Marvin turned to Chase, “yes, I think we could help.”

“Good. Good. Good.” Chase repeated the word over and over, trying to convince himself. “I guess we all go home now?”

“Chase, you’re in my apartment,” Jackie pointed out. “I am home. And I would appreciate it if people, especially a certain cat magician, would stop stealing my chips in my own home!” He shouted the last part in Marvin’s direction, who loudly slammed a cupboard door several times in response.

Chase almost said something, but then he decided not to get involved in the weird mostly-friendly almost-fight going on between the two. “Schneep, you good with staying at my place?” he asked.

The doctor nodded, standing up. “Of course I am. I would have said if I wasn’t. Are we leaving now?”

“Better early than never, dude.”

The walk from Jackie’s apartment complex to Chase’s house in the suburbs wasn’t long, but to Schneep it felt like hours. He couldn’t lie—at least, not to himself—and say he wasn’t on edge, constantly starting at every little movement in the corner of his eye, or tensing up at every sound that was even slightly similar to the crackle of static. He stared straight ahead, not daring to look directly at Chase, whose face, unfortunately, bore a striking resemblance to him.

“You’re walking funny,” Chase said.

“I do not know what you mean.” The reply came instinctively.

“C’mon, dude,” Chase sounded exasperated. “You always tell me it’s not healthy to bottle up my emotions. Well, now you’re just being a fucking hypocrite.”

“It is not same thing, Chase,” Schneep insisted. “I am just...putting things aside for later. It has worked for me for a long time now.”

“Yeah, you’re putting them in a little bottle,” Chase muttered. “And if you shove enough stuff in that bottle, sooner or later it’s gonna break. Explosively.”

On some level, Schneep knew he was right. If he kept going on like this, eventually everything was going to blow up in his face. The best way to deal with situations like this would be to talk to others about it. His friends were right there, offering to listen. But how was he supposed to explain what he’d gone through? He’d been gone nine months, and he hadn’t even known it until he finally escaped and saw the date on a newspaper. Of course, there was the chance that he hadn’t even escaped, and that he was just giving him hope before he would immediately pull him kicking and screaming back into that dark place— 

Nope. Stop it. Put it away.

“Look doc, I won’t pretend to understand what happened,” Chase said. “I don’t think I could, without going through the same thing. But I’m here for you. Anything you need, just ask. Support, reassurance, whatever. Ask me to do something that’ll make you feel better or safe, and I’ll do it. It’s okay now.”

It wasn’t. It wouldn’t ever be.

Before Schneep could roll out another dismissal, his attention was caught by something up ahead. “Chase, are...are there police officers outside your house?”

Chase looked ahead. Sure enough, a police cruiser was sitting on the curb by his house, and there were a pair of people at his door, who he could only assume were plainclothes cops.

“Hey!” He broke into a run. Schneep grabbed onto his arm, simultaneously trying to slow him down and keep up. Ahead, the officers turned and looked at him.

“Would one of you happen to be Mr. Brody?” The taller, blonde one asked.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Chase answered. “What are you doing here? If you don’t mind me asking.”

The shorter, dark-haired one responded. “I’m Detective Malcolm Akela, this is my partner Lydia Bowman. We’re here to ask you some questions about the disappearance of Roberta and Trevor Brody, your children.”