#stacy's sobs echo from the kitchen

[spontaneoustornadoes]

HOOooooooOOOOOOoooooOOOOOOO

BOY DO I LOVE THIS

Okay, but… looking at Chase’s power hour video as something he put on his friend (Sean’s) channel, you gotta wonder about a few things. Like, you don’t just livestream everything for the video as it happens and slap it into the upload area. You gotta write a script, film the scenes, sometimes multiple time, record dialogue, edit everything, and then wait for it to upload, which used to take a lot longer. 

It’s almost like Chase wanted to send out the message that he and his family were split. That he’d lost that. A certain message, for a certain someone, telling them not to bother attacking them, ‘cause their out of the picture and just the absence of them in his life is worse than anything else Chase could go through. 

Almost like… he was trying to protect his family from a certain glitch bitch. 

And maybe it worked. For awhile. 

But if Anti finds out it was a trick? That Chase had tried to control him? To… to puppet him?

Oooooooo boy, he’d be gonna be pissed. 

If Chase really was separated form his family, he surely wouldn’t notice if they went missing, now would he?

[milokno]

"would you just listen to me for two seconds?” with henrik and chase? :0

so I decided to make this a part two to another request I finished a few weeks ago!! you can read part one here.

you can also read this fic on ao3!

/ / / 

Henrik’s eyes, behind the thin-rimmed glasses he wears, are dull and red. He looks as though he’s the one that’s been sobbing for the last two hours and not Chase. The bags underneath the doctor’s eyes have worsened since they saw each other last. How much time has passed, anyway? It’s been too long.

“I can’t—” Chase’s voice breaks. He winces at the noise, but after sucking in a breath through his nose, he continues, “I can’t go home.”

Chase isn’t even sure where home is right now. After all, Stacy and the kids aren’t his home anymore, are they?

There are raindrops dripping from his hair all the way down to his beard. There’s so much wet all over his face that he can no longer differentiate between what’s the rain and what’s the tears spilling out of his eyes.

Besides the rain, and the shaky breaths escaping from Chase’s lips, it’s silent. With his and Stacy’s near constant arguments as of late, as well as the kids, there hasn’t exactly been any silence in his life. Now that everything is quiet, though, he can’t stand it.

“Come inside,” Henrik’s voice is so soft, like he thinks that if he talked any louder Chase would break into little pieces. “I don’t want you to get sick.” The doctor takes a step backwards, and he pulls the front door open wider so Chase can step inside. He shuts the door behind him.

Chase is getting water all over the hardwood floors. Henrik, who either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care, motions at the coat rack beside the door. Chase slips the jacket he’s wearing off his shoulders, and he hangs it where the other man told him to. He hesitates, then decides to take his shoes off as well, and he places them on the floor.

When he turns back around, Henrik’s already started to walk further into the house. Chase has to do a half-jog to catch up with him.

“When was the last time you ate?” The words come out in a rush. “Though, I’ll be honest, Chase, I don’t have much here to eat.” A soft, awkward sort of noise falls from Henrik’s lips. The noise is probably meant to be a chuckle, although it resembles a scoff more than anything else. Neither of them seem to be in the mood to laugh. After a moment, the other man continues, “I could make you something, if—"

Chase finds himself zoning out. He doesn’t mean to— he doesn’t want to. It’s as if he’s sinking, his body surrounded by murky, blue water from the top of his head all the way down to his toes. He can hear Henrik’s voice, distantly, though he’s having a hard time trying to understand his words.

He blinks once, then twice.

He’s no longer submerged underwater like he’d felt he was a few moments before. He realizes, then, that Henrik has stopped talking. He’s turned so the two of them are facing each other, and he’s staring directly into Chase’s eyes. He doesn’t look mad, like Chase had expected him to. No, Henrik only looks concerned. Somehow, that’s worse than if he had just been angry with him.

Does he want Henrik to be mad at him?

“She’s better off without me.” He doesn’t recognize his own voice. It’s so foreign, so devoid of everything that makes Chase who he is. “Isn’t she?”

Henrik takes a few steps towards him. His eyes are soft and pleading, and his chapped lips are parted as he tries to deny Chase’s words. His voice is just as quiet as it was before, “Chase—"

He raises his right hand up in front of him to stop the other man from coming any closer. Chase exhales sharply through his nose, and his fingers curl into a fist until his knuckles turn white.

Chase has to force the words to leave his lips, “I’m sorry I came here. I should— I should go.” He doesn’t know where he’ll go, but he supposes he could drive to a parking lot and he could sleep there, for tonight at least. He shouldn’t expect Henrik to always be there to comfort him when his life turns to shit. “You shouldn’t have to take care of me just because I’m a fuck-up that ruined his own marriage and—”

There’s a loud thud— followed shortly by a crack—and then Chase’s eyes are shooting up to see what caused the noise.

There, on the wall beside Henrik, is a hole. It’s fairly big, about the size of a fist, and—

And then Chase realizes what happened.

Henrik punched the wall.

The doctor’s eyebrows are angled downwards, and his lips are forming a deep scowl. “Would you just listen to me for two seconds?” Henrik’s voice is loud, and it’s harsh and rough. It echoes throughout the house and straight into Chase’s ears. Despite himself, he flinches back.

Henrik notices. Of course he does.

Chase is sobbing again. He doesn’t like crying, and he hates himself for doing this to Henrik. Back when they still shared a dorm in college, Chase would always go to him for support when he found himself getting dumped by every girl he fell in love with too fast. It’s a wonder that he and Stacy got married at all, to be honest.

Things haven’t changed, have they?

Both of his hands come up to rub at the skin on his tear-stained cheeks. His words come out in a strangled cry, “I’m so sorry.”

For the second time tonight, Henrik walks towards him, and this time he doesn’t stop him. The doctor throws his arms around his shoulders, and one of his hands comes up to cradle the back of Chase’s head. At the gentle touch, Chase manages to sob harder, although he wasn’t aware that it was possible.

He rests his forehead on Henrik’s shoulder. The fabric of the other man’s t-shirt is tickling his skin, but he can’t seem to bring himself to care. Not when Henrik’s shushing his cries and rubbing his fingertips along the short strands of Chase’s dark brown hair.

His voice hitches on every other word, “I don’t— I don’t know who I am without her.”

“You’re Chase,” Henrik’s voice is filled with nothing but adoration, “You’re my friend.” It takes a moment for the words to sink in, but when they do it hits him hard. He squeezes his eyes shut tight, and then more tears are sliding down his cheeks and seeping into the other man’s t-shirt.

After that, neither of them speak for a long while. They stand in Henrik’s kitchen, holding onto each other like they’d die if they didn’t, and Chase lets everything out. He sobs into Henrik’s shoulder, clutching the fabric of his t-shirt in-between his fingers. He can feel the weight being taken off his shoulders. His sobs aren’t as strong as they were a few moments ago, and the tears that once spilled out of his eyes are beginning to dry on the skin of his face.

Chase’s voice is hoarse when he speaks again. His words are muffled in Henrik’s t-shirt when he says, “’m sorry I made you punch the wall.”

Henrik pulls back from the hug. He keeps one of his hands on Chase’s shoulder, and their eyes meet. The corners of his lips are tugged into a smile, and a small chuckle—this time one that’s real— shakes him. Despite his laughter, there are tears rolling down his cheeks and falling off his chin.

There’s a pang of guilt in Chase’s heart at the sight.

“You okay, Hen?” Chase knows it’s a stupid question before he asks it. He doesn’t know what else to say.

There’s a pause, like Henrik has to actually think about whether he’s alright or not, and then he’s laughing. It’s not a small chuckle, like from a few seconds before. No. Henrik is full on cackling.

Chase stares at him, his eyes wide and his jaw on the floor.

Before he can say anything, though, Henrik says, “I think—” His voice is quiet, like what he’s saying is a secret that only he and Chase can know, “I think that my hand is broken.”

And then, to his own surprise, Chase is laughing, too.

He can’t seem to stop the grin from splitting across his lips or the onslaught of laughter from erupting from him. Henrik’s laughing again, so Chase doesn’t really feel that bad.

More tears are rolling down Chase’s cheeks, but the grin’s still spread across his lips.

Nothing’s changed.

Chase can’t tell if that’s a bad thing or not.

/ / /

tagslist (DM me if you want to be added or removed!!) @immabethehero @bupine @spudmcloughlin @dreamerr-art @kfjack @florenceisfalling

[lets-talk-appella]

They’re Us

Ch 5/5

Summary: When the enemy looks like your friends, how do you know who to trust? For PP Horror Week 2019 - Doppelgangers.

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: M for horror themes and some violence, not smut.

Shoutout to @acabellas for the idea for this ending!! And for listening to my screaming into the void. :)

AO3 and FFN

Stacie turns away, striding with purpose toward the front door. Beca knows she’s going to the garage, where the gas is stored with the lawnmower.

From beside her, Chloe makes a soft sound of distress. Beca looks over and is startled by how pale Chloe looks. Her eyes slide out of focus and she sways on her feet.

“Woah, hey—” Beca says, reaching out to steady her. “Chlo, deep breaths, okay, you need to—”

“Bec, what—” Chloe gasps, her eyes wide as they dart around the room. “The house, we can’t just…” she trails off, pressing her hand to her mouth.

“I know,” Beca breathes, heart twisting at the thought of losing their home. “I know. But if we do it, this ends. We’ll be safe.”

Chloe shakes her head, hand still at her mouth and eyes welling with tears.

“Chloe, we have to, okay? It’s—it’s just a house. We’ll be safe, and that’s what matters, right?”

Chloe gulps, and for a moment, Beca isn’t sure she’d even heard her.

“Chl—”

“Okay,” Chloe manages shakily, blinking hard. “Okay. We—we have to tell the others.”

“Okay,” Beca breathes back, looking around them. She can still hear Lilly fighting the three clones upstairs, and she’s not sure where anyone else is. “Let’s… kitchen?” she asks, gesturing that way.

Chloe nods and they move, having to pick their way over the sitting room floor littered with shredded chunks of couch, smashed picture frames, and strewn ornaments. Out of the corner of her eye, Beca sees Chloe bend down and pick up one of the photos from its broken frame. Chloe folds the photo, carefully sliding it into her pocket.

Beca glances away, and her stomach pangs; she catches sight of a body lying half-obscured behind the ruined couch, wearing Amy’s clothes.

“No,” she whispers numbly, moving toward the immobile form, looking for a bracelet on her wrist.

Before she can get close enough, though, she hears a, “Psst!” and looks over her shoulder automatically. Amy stands in the doorway of the kitchen, her arm lifted to show the blue yarn adorning her wrist.

“You’re okay,” Beca sighs in relief.

Amy nods sagely. “Takes more than that to take down my sexy fat ass.”

Beca glances over her shoulder at the body of Amy’s clone on the floor and winces.  “What did you do to her?”

“Bashed her with a picture frame,” Amy replies as Chloe joins them. “She wasn’t going to get up after that.”

“Amy,” Chloe says quickly. “We need to find the others and tell them—Stacie is—”

“Going for the gas, yeah,” Amy grimaces. “Cynthia Rose told us. We’re in here. Um, it’s not pretty,” she adds, stepping aside and giving them room to enter the kitchen.

Beca swallows hard and locks eyes with Chloe for a second, not sure what to expect. She crosses the threshold, entering the kitchen a little cautiously.

The first thing she registers is Emily, wearing her bracelet, and being violently sick into the trash can. Ashley and Jessica sit with her, Ashley holding her hair and Jessica rubbing her back soothingly. Cynthia Rose is there, too, with a cut on her forearm that Flo works to bandage.

“You’re all okay,” Chloe breathes, her eyes scanning the room.

“Relatively,” Cynthia Rose grunts.

“Emily?” Beca asks her quietly.

Still, Emily hears her and looks up, wiping her mouth weakly on a kitchen rag. “I had to… I didn’t want to, but she was attacking me and—” she cuts off, going pale, and ducks back down to the trash can to be sick again.

Flo cringes, her face wrinkling in sympathy. “She had to kill Stacie,” she whispers.

“What?” Chloe gasps.

“Stacie’s clone,” Amy clarifies. “In here. Stacie’s clone was attacking her, and—well, Legacy didn’t have a choice.”

“I tried to help,” Cynthia Rose mutters. “That’s how I got this,” she adds, gesturing to the cut on her arm. “Stacie’s clone had a knife, but we got it away from her. Emily went for the kitchen knives while the clone went after me and… well. Emily won.”

Chloe makes a small, scared noise. “Wh—where’s the body?” she asks after a moment, her voice hushed. “The clone?”

Jessica’s lip curled. “We threw it in the pantry. Didn’t want to look at it.”

“Yeah, Emily’s a little… well, what do you expect?” Flo asks almost defensively.

Beca stares at Emily’s still-heaving back. She’s just a kid, really. It isn’t fair.

She walks over to Emily, waits for a pause in the heaving, and kneels beside her. “Emily,” she says gently, getting her attention.

Emily glances at her, a light sheen of sweat covering her face.

“Hey, dude,” Beca begins. “I’m really, really sorry. I’m so sorry you had to do that. But, listen... if you hadn’t—hadn’t stopped Stacie’s clone, Cynthia Rose might be dead. You might be, too.”

Emily’s eyes shine and her chin quivers, but she nods once.

“So, um,” Beca continues quietly, “I can’t even imagine what… look, you did what you had to do, okay? The real Stacie is okay. She’s in the garage, right now, figuring out how to save us. You did the right thing,” Beca emphasizes. She has no idea if she’s doing this right at all—this is really much more Chloe’s domain—but she needs Emily to understand.

A small, pained smile flickers on Emily’s lips. “Thanks, Beca,” she says softly, her voice hoarse. Her eyes flick to Beca’s wrist and she frowns. “Amy said you lost your bracelet?”

“Yeah, both Chloe and I did,” Beca says. “We can just make new ones.”

“Maybe not with yarn,” Jessica suggests.

“Oh, here,” Flo says impatiently, moving toward her and Chloe with the first aid kit. She quickly wraps Chloe’s arm in clean white bandages, cutting the end and taping it securely. She does the same to Beca; it feels much more secure than the bracelet. Giving an experimental tug on the bandage, Beca can tell it won’t come off easily.

“Thanks, Flo,” Chloe says, watching Beca.

“Yeah, thanks,” Beca echoes.

Flo rolls her eyes, looking pleased with herself. “Should have thought of that sooner.”

“So, okay,” Chloe says, looking around. “You guys already know the plan. We just have to corner the clones all in one spot. Um, where are—”

“Flo’s and Lilly’s are trapped in the basement, so we should bring the rest there. Don’t know where they are, though,” Cynthia Rose answers.

“Ours and Aubrey is upstairs, so maybe the rest—”

Chloe is cut off by a sudden loud shouting upstairs that startles Beca; she’d half-forgotten Lilly had been up there fighting. The shouts are immediately followed by a huge tumbling sound that seems to echo in the kitchen, a series of deep thuds that somehow draw closer before stopping. Then, silence.

Ashley frowns. “What—”

“The stairs!” Chloe gasps, grabbing Beca’s arm. “Someone fell down the stairs.”

“Shit, Lilly,” Beca swears, and without another thought, she and Chloe are moving again.

They rush out of the kitchen, chased by the sound of scraping of chairs and footsteps as the rest of the Bellas follow. Once again, they cross the ruined sitting room and reach the foot of the stairs where—

Chloe cries out and Beca stops abruptly, rooted to the floor by what she sees.

“Oh my God,” Chloe murmurs beside her, hands again covering her mouth. “Oh my God. Her neck. Bec, look at her neck.”

Beca can’t stop looking. Nausea rolls her stomach and she has to take a deep breath, steadying herself.

Her own clone lies at the foot of the stairs, clearly dead, her neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Broken. The clone’s eyes are open, staring blankly at all of their feet.

Beca forces her eyes away from her own face on the floor, looking up the stairs to where Lilly stands staring down at them and the body. Aubrey’s and Chloe’s clones are somewhere up there, too, possibly having retreated after Lilly shoved Beca’s clone down the stairs.

A choked sob from next to her grabs Beca’s attention; she looks over, startled to see Chloe staring down at the body of her clone, tears running down her face.

“Shit, Chlo…” Beca breathes. “Hey, it’s… she’s not—”

Amy clears her throat loudly, giving Beca a pointed look.

“Uh, come here,” Beca urges somewhat awkwardly, gently guiding Chloe by the elbow back into the sitting room. Behind her, she can hear the other Bellas whispering and shuffling, maybe moving the clone’s body, but she tunes them out.

Chloe’s shaking and pale. The faraway look in her eyes scares Beca almost more than anything else she’s experienced with the clones.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she says to Chloe softly. “She’s not me. I’m okay.”

Chloe nods jerkily but doesn’t say anything.

An insane idea hits Beca. She knows she’ll probably be slapped or maybe screamed at. But it’s the only thing she can think of to reassure Chloe that it’s her.

She steps forward, her hands on Chloe’s waist, and kisses her.

For a heartbeat, nothing happens.

Then Chloe inhales sharply against the press of Beca’s lips, pulling back an inch.

Beca’s heart stutters and for a moment, she’s terrified she’d made the wrong move. Before she can apologize, though, or maybe flee the country, Chloe leans in again to close the gap she’d created between their lips.

Kissing Chloe is even better than she’d imagined. It’s all soft lips and gentle pressure, Chloe’s hands in her hair and nose bumping her cheek. It’s a soft sigh and the click of something in her chest that reminds her of empty pools and soft smiles, whisking her away from the present until all she can think is Chloe and the word finally.

Kissing Chloe is everything.

“Guys! Incoming!”

Cynthia Rose’s shout of warning makes Beca jerk back, startled. She’d managed to forget that they were essentially in the middle of a war zone, and, based on the surprise on Chloe’s face, so had she.

“Basement, now!” Stacie, reappeared from the garage, shouts over a thunderous noise that Beca realizes is coming from the stairs.

Understanding hits her like a freight train; she grabs Chloe’s hand and together they move, hurrying past the foot of the stairs and following the other Bellas to the basement. Beca makes the mistake of looking over her shoulder as they go; the remaining clones, led by Chloe’s and Aubrey’s, pound down the stairs from the second floor in chase.

The Bellas lead the way, Amy wrenching open the door to the basement. Lilly’s and Flo’s clones wait for them at the top of the steps but are bowled over backward as the Bellas all charge into the dank depths of the house. Beca and Chloe follow closely, the clones on their heels as they hurry down the basement steps, trying to lure the clones after them to get them all in one place.

It works almost too well.

As soon as Beca and Chloe hit the basement floor, the clones are upon them. She only has enough time to see Cynthia Rose’s clone attack Lilly, Lilly’s clone make a beeline for Emily, and Aubrey’s lunge at Chloe before she’s once again tackled, her assailant going for her legs.

She lands on the floor hard enough for the wind to be knocked out of her; Chloe’s clone smiles wickedly from on top of her. She’s missing a contact lens, one eye blue and the other amber, and her face is covered in scratches, souvenirs from her fight with Lilly. She looks deranged and doesn’t even pause to brag as she raises a hammer above Beca’s face.

Instinctively, Beca bucks her hips up and rolls, managing to throw the clone off balance. Beca flails, sending a fist straight to the clone’s stomach. The hammer falls to the left of Beca’s face, landing on the floor with a deafening clatter, and Beca writhes. She manages to dislodge Chloe’s clone completely and scrambles back rapidly, struggling to get to her feet.

Chloe’s clone follows, crawling after her on her hands and knees unnaturally. She’s faster than Beca is and is almost on top of her again before Beca remembers her legs. She kicks out hard, catching Chloe’s clone in the face with her boot. The clone cries out and jerks back, clutching her now-bleeding mouth.

Beca takes the opportunity to push herself up, rising to her feet, and her gaze falls on the dropped hammer. The clone’s eyes flick toward it as well.

Then they lock eyes, and everything seems to pause.

The clone moves first, throwing herself toward the hammer.

“No!” Beca shouts, lunging at the hammer. She knocks Chloe’s clone’s arm out of the way, her fingers wrapping around the hammer’s grip even as the clone’s fingernails scrabble at the back of her hand uselessly. Beca swings the hammer upward reflexively, striking the clone in the shoulder with the tool and making her fall back.

Panting, her heart racing in her chest, Beca forces herself back to her feet. She looks down at the injured clone, wincing and bloody on the floor, and knows what she has to do. Steeling herself, Beca raises the hammer, takes a step forward, and—

“Bec, don’t!” Chloe’s clone cries, raising her hands in pathetic self-defense. “Please!”

In that instant, it’s Chloe on the floor in front of her, defenseless.

Beca hesitates.

Chloe’s clone moves faster than Beca would have thought possible. She kicks out at Beca, catching her hard in the left knee. Beca’s leg goes out and she crumples but manages to hold onto the hammer. It doesn’t matter; the clone pulls a shard of glass—taken from Chloe’s broken window—from her boot and raises it.

“Bye, Bec,” Chloe’s clone smiles at her sweetly, her expression turning wicked.

There’s nothing Beca can do.

“Hey!” a voice shouts, and the real Chloe is suddenly there, the basement fire extinguisher in hand.

The clone only has time to glance at her in surprise before Chloe swings the red canister, hitting the clone directly in the head with a sickening thud. The clone drops, but Chloe isn’t done. She hits her again, and again, and again, until Beca has to reach out to stop her.

“Chloe! Chloe, stop, she’s—just stop!” she says, grabbing one of Chloe’s arms.

Chloe turns to her, fire in her eyes. For a second, Beca is terrified. Chloe isn’t violent. Not like this.

The fire slowly fades as Chloe comes back to herself, melting into something like exhaustion. She looks at the bloodied fire extinguisher in her hands in revulsion, immediately throwing it down to the floor.

“Chloe?” Beca repeats softly. “It’s—you got her. It’s done.”

She doesn’t need to look at the body of the clone on the floor behind Chloe to know it.

Chloe nods, her throat bobbing. “You’re okay?” she asks, her eyes flicking between both of Beca’s.

“Yeah,” Beca says, ignoring the screaming of her muscles. “Thanks for that.”

Chloe exhales shakily. “I don’t know if—I hit Aubrey’s clone, too, but I don’t know if she’s just knocked out.”

“That’s okay,” Beca replies quickly, looking around at the fight surrounding them and catching sight of Aubrey’s clone lying motionless on the floor. “We should—”

A loud series of pops, echoing around the walls of the basement like gunfire, interrupts her. Beca jumps, looking for the source automatically to see firecrackers exploding on the basement floor, sending shrapnel spraying into the air. Someone must have lit up what’s left of their Independence Day stock.

“GO!!” Stacie bellows above the chaos, and Beca understands. It’s their distraction.

The Bellas all fly for the stairs leading out of the basement; Ashley, Jessica, and Emily take the lead, followed closely by Flo, Lilly, Stacie, and Cynthia Rose. Amy looks back to make sure Beca and Chloe are following before running up the stairs, too.

The remaining clones—Lilly’s, Flo’s, Emily’s, and Cynthia Rose’s—chase after Beca and Chloe, but are too slow. Beca shoves Chloe ahead of her, rushing them both up the rickety wooden steps at top speed. She feels the clones behind her, hears their steps, but ahead she sees the landing, sees the others running out the front door and to safety.

A hand grabs at her ankle; Beca trips and almost falls. She shouts, and Chloe and Amy are with her instantly. They both grab Beca’s arms and tug; Beca glances over her shoulder to see Aubrey’s clone, a welt on her forehead from where Chloe had hit her. Chloe and Amy give Herculean effort, pulling her forward. Beca’s shoe comes off in Aubrey’s hand as she’s hauled to safety, pulled through the doorway to the basement and deposited on the floor.

Amy releases her and slams the basement door closed behind them, throwing her weight against it and locking it. A huge scraping noise fills the room and Beca looks over her shoulder to see Stacie, Cynthia Rose, and Emily shoving at the refrigerator, forcing it across the floor and to the basement door. Chloe moves quickly to help, and together, they get it in position. Amy moves and the heavy refrigerator takes her place, barricading the door and trapping the remaining clones in the basement.

The sour pang of gasoline fills Beca’s nose; Ashley and Jessica are already dousing the walls and floors with it, throwing the liquid over the stairs and over the bodies of the Beca’s and Amy’s clones.

“Beca,” Chloe says loudly, her face close to Beca’s. “We need to get out, now.”

“I…” Talking about burning the house had been much easier than seeing it in action. It’s happening too quickly.

“I know,” Chloe breathes, her eyes sparkling with tears. “But we have to go.”

Beca looks around one more time but is unable to see anything but the damage inflicted to the house in the fight. “Okay,” she says, taking Chloe’s hand.

Together, they rush out, joining the other Bellas waiting outside. Ashley and Jessica follow a moment later, pouring the gas behind them in a trail that stops several yards away from where the Bellas gather. They hurry to join the group, and Beca does a quick headcount; all of the Bellas are there, and all are wearing their bracelets, or, in hers and Chloe’s case, bandages.

“Lilly?” Stacie asks, and without ceremony, Lilly moves toward the trail of gas and ignites it with a lighter she seems to pull from thin air.

The flames move quickly, blooming to existence with a whoosh, fed by the trail of gas. The fire speeds toward the house, disappearing into the open front door. Within seconds, the interior of the house glows orange, heat and light spilling out. The glass in the windows shatters, and the Bellas move farther back as black smoke starts billowing out of the house.

They watch in silence as the flames spread, taking over the ground floor. Beca knows that before long, the other floors will be engulfed, taking their every possession, and putting an end to the clones. She imagines briefly that she can hear the screaming from the basement, but shuts down that thought almost as quickly as it forms.

Nothing feels real in that moment. It’s like she’s floating far above the scene, watching an unfamiliar group of girls burn an unknown house.

Beca drags a ragged breath through her lips, feeling but not registering the heat of the flames against her face.

Then Chloe’s hand finds hers, grounding her, bringing her back to her own body with a thud. Beca holds tight, not wanting to float away again. Chloe shifts beside her, and Beca looks over to see her pulling out the picture she’d saved from the wreckage. Chloe unfolds it and stares down at it.

It’s a group photo of the Bellas immediately after winning Nationals at the end of freshman year. Even as Beca stares at the photo, a droplet of water splashes on one corner as Chloe silently cries, tears running down her face.

A lump forms in Beca’s throat and her eyes sting; she has to look back at the fire.

Sirens already sound in the distance, but Beca knows it’ll be too late to save anything by the time the firetrucks arrive. Ashley and Jessica had done a good job with the gasoline.

She squeezes Chloe’s hand, just once.

Chloe exhales shakily, tracing her thumb over the back of Beca’s hand. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “It’s over.”

[bookwormscififan]

Happy Birthday Chase

I may not have mini Chase with me, but here’s a fic. Also, sorry this is late.

Chase walked down the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the quiet house.He had woken up this morning to the sound of silence, and was confused as to why nobody was around. Nobody had left a note, either. 

He had also missed a call from Stacy, but when he called her she didn’t answer. 

He got downstairs, and headed to the kitchen to make some breakfast. As he put the food on a plate, he noticed a small glimmer of light shining on the wall in front of him. Staring at it, he furrowed his brow. 

“Hm,” he muttered as he munched his breakfast. As he sat down at the table, an all-too-familiar chuckle alerted him that he wasn’t alone. Standing up, he went into the living room, where the lights were still off. Switching them on, he jumped as...

“Happy birthday, Chase!” All the egos, Stacy and his kids were huddled in the room, waiting for him to turn the light on so they could start a surprise party. Overwhelmed with joy, Chase fell to the floor in a sobbing heap.

“Hey, Chase. It’s ok. It’ll be ok.” Chase smiled at Marvin, taking his hand and pulling him into a hug.

“Thanks... Marvin...” 

The group spent the day celebrating, passing presents and sharing stories. Chase wore the biggest smile as he received his kids’ handmade gifts, and cried a little when JJ handed him a new bottle of whiskey. 

Anti showed up briefly, muttering something about taking someone, but he was chased off by the kids asking him questions.

As Chase went to bed that night, he thought about what had happened, and smiled. For the first time in a number of years, he didn’t cry himself to sleep.

[xpouii]

JSE Day 18: Childhood

Day 18 of the JSE artists prompts 2019 by @septic-bella

**All previous entries are available on AO3 under the title “Mayhem” with my same username.**

              Chase stepped into his home, looking around for his family, “Stace? Kids! I’m home!”

               There was laughter coming from the family room, and Chase made his way there, running into Stacy in the hallway, “Stacy!”

              She passed right through him, only shivering slightly as she did, but she gave no indication she noticed him beyond that. Chase looked down at himself in confusion, then continued to the family room where his kids sat playing Mario Kart with—him?

               The interloper turned and grinned right at Chase, and he could see the faded scar around his throat, and the way his eyes flashed black for a moment before he turned back to his game. Chase darted forward and tried to haul Anti up off of the floor, but he faded right through him. He reached for his son, to ruffle his hair like he always used to do, but it was the same with both of the children. “Anti,” he growled. “Get the fuck away from my family.”

               Stacy came into the room and sat on the edge of the couch, leaning down and kissing Anti. Anti’s eyes met Chase’s and he made a show of it, until Chase had to turn away, his stomach turning. Chase wiped the tears from his eyes and realized how helpless he was. Anti was stealing his family. When the kissing came to a merciful end, Stacy stood up, “What are we having for dinner, gang?”

               “Bacon!” the boy shouted.          

               “Pancakes!” his sister echoed.

               Anti chuckled, “Looks like breakfast for dinner. Are you sure you can cook, babe? Why don’t you rest some, put your feet up before they swell.”

               Stacy put her hand on her stomach and sighed, sinking back onto the couch, “You’re going to make dinner, Chase?”

               “Of course,” Anti said. “If I can make a baby I can make bacon.”

               Stacy shushed him, and Chase’s blood ran cold, “Well to be fair this is the third one, but I’ve never seen you make food before. I’ll just sit on the couch with the fire extinguisher.”

               “If you insist,” Anti said. “Then I’ll rub your feet afterward. Ok kids last round! Then daddy has to go cook!”

               “You’re gonna cook?” the girl asked. “Since when?”

               Anti chuckled and tickled her, “Don’t doubt your father! I have many talents.”

               The girl squealed and slapped his hands away, “Cheater!”

               Chase couldn’t look away, as sick as it made him; he couldn’t drag his eyes from his family. When Anti stood, walking to the door, Chase didn’t budge until Anti cleared his throat, “Going to the kitchen now, if anybody cares to join me.”

               Stacy stretched, “I’m good. I got comfortable.”

               Anti chuckled, and Chase made himself leave the room, following Anti to the kitchen, “What the hell are you doing?”

               Anti glanced over his shoulder, “Oh hey, Chase. Pretty interesting how happy your family is now, huh? All I had to do was become the exact opposite of you. Thanks for the new wife, by the way. Stacy, man, she’s amazing. No wonder you had two kids before you were even able to support yourself.”

               Chase ran at Anti, stumbling right through him, “I’ll fucking kill you! Stay away from them!”

               “Calm down, Chase. I’m letting you see them. Isn’t that nice of me? You should say thank you.” Anti ignored him then, busying himself with the breakfast he’d promised to make.

               Stacy walked in, and Chase burst into tears, “Stacy baby, please. You have to hear me! He’s dangerous!”

               “Chase, babe, I saw the new Bro Average video you finished editing. I think it’s your best yet,” she said, walking up behind Anti and kissing his cheek.

               “Yeah? That’s because you’re so supportive. Plus, I have to take care of our family,” Anti said, “It’s growing, after all.”

               Chase grit his teeth when Anti touched Stacy’s belly. “Yeah, three kids,” Stacy said. “You’re sure it won’t be too much?”

               “No way, babe!” Anti said. “We’re great parents. Ever since I stopped drinking, we’ve been perfect, and I actually got this stupid channel turned around and made something of myself. Now’s the best time to have another baby.”

               “Ok ok you’re right,” Stacy said. “I should really just start trusting you. I just remember how you used to be. Be patient with me, Chase.”

               “Babe I owe you everything for taking me back. Now, go put your feet up and I’ll bring you breakfast in bed.”

               Stacy smiled, “You’ve convinced me.” She left them, walking to the bedroom—their bedroom.

               Chase went to his knees, covering his ears and hiding his face, “This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This can’t be happening.”

               Anti walked to Chase’s side, kneeling beside him, “Why does it even bother you? You don’t even want to be alive. You went—what—three days without alcohol and ended up hallucinating and trying to hang yourself? I haven’t even laid a finger on you yet and you went completely out of your mind. It’s pretty funny, right? You almost died without me doing a damn thing. How pathetic.”

              “No,” Chase whimpered. “That can’t be true.”

              Anti looked up when the bacon on the stove popped, “Well, duty calls. Good luck with um… whatever way you try to kill yourself next.”

                 Chase jerked awake with a mournful gasp that hurt his throat. He looked around, and Jameson was nowhere to be seen. Ten feet away, Jack slept, and Chase sobbed in frustration as he fell back against the pillows. “That better have been a nightmare you green fuck.”

[szndior]

Name: Aspen Davis

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 18

Species: Unknown

Alias: Siren

Parents: Unknown

Sibling(s): Juno Davis

Birthplace: South of France

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Eye Color: Brown

Sexuality: Unlabeled

Zodiac: Aquarius

Fandom: The Amazing Spider-Man

Significant Other: Peter Parker

Friendships: Felicia Hardy and Harry Osborn 

Best Friends: Theo Miller and Gwen Stacy

Number of Kills: 100

Occupation: Vigilante

Enemies: Kingpin, Niko Callaghan

Weapon of Choice: Dagger and Machete

Links: Burning Pile on Ao3 ; Burning Pile on Wattpad

Back Story!

Aspen only knew one thing since she was a child: Survive. During her early childhood years, she went through hell and back. Her parents were taken from her, being left alone. Since she was five years old, she began to train hard alongside her ‘sister’ Juno and her parents, Ivan and Alina.

To other normal human beings, they were a family. A small close family that would do anything for each other.

Ivan, playing the role of a hard-working husband who was there for his two young daughters. Aline, a housewife who volunteered at social school events, a devoted mother to her family.

Juno, the big sister that took care of her younger sister. The loving daughter that was smart yet wise.

And then there was Aspen, the adorable little girl with a naive and innocent mind. The daughter that could light up a room.

But it was all a façade.

Ivan, Alina, and Juno were all trained assassins, from their early age and Aspens journey of becoming one was just beginning.

On her sixth birthday, Aspen expected a way to end her night: filled with cake, gifts and kisses but the only thing that happened was her family running way, from the cops. Saying hurried goodbyes, watching her mother Alina getting shot, her father getting angry and frustrated. Juno having fear in her eyes.

Her birthday ended with her getting stuffed in a can filled to the brim with other young girls like Juno and Aspen. The echos of their sobs and pleads in her brain. She didn’t know it then. That her life was going to turn into hell.

The once pure and naive Aspen quickly gone; now replaced with a corrupted Aspen.

Being in the red room wasn’t a treat. Something you wouldn’t want. Everyday in the hellhole, she had monsters haunting her dreams, making her feel dirty and filthy. The screams and shrieks from the red room in the back of her mind.

The voices louder and louder s her fears creeped in her. The men who made her feel filthy, suffocating her. Taunting her.

Being from the red room, getting taken away from her parents, losing her trust in the only people she called family turned her perspective on life.

Survive.

The only thing she knew. Only thing she was taught. One she had escaped from the red room. Now alone and out of place.

She made the same mistake of putting her trust into a man. How foolish her young naive mind was.

The sins of Hell Kitchen coming back to haunt her everyday. If she could ever go back in time, stop herself from ever agreeing to work with KingPin, she would in a heartbeat.

The so called 'family' that was made up of KingPin and his crew was only a lie. they only left her helpless and weak.

She was afraid to admit to herself that sometimes she could be weak. The word made her angry. All the years of feeling helpless, from a young age coming back to her.

She wanted revenge.

She wanted avenge the girls that were going through the same thing she went going through. She wanted to take down KingPin. Take down the powerful useless men that made her feel filthy and corrupted her. And take down the red room; the place that held all of her skeletons, her greatest fears.

How would a young girl like Aspen do all of this? She won't do it alone, she would get help from the only person she still trusted with her life in this world. Theo Miller.

Together the two teens will take down the one thing that haunted their dreams, every single night.

Aspen Davis renamed herself, getting rid of the shameful name they gave her back in the red room. She named herself siren.

The same Sirens she would hear in stories her sister would tell her. Sirens were alluring, beautiful but cunning and smart. Luring their enemies to their ultimate fate.

She made a brand for herself in Hells Kitchen, some would say she was a 'reckless vigilante' others wouldn't dare whisper her name into the night.

She would meet one man though, some would say a 'friend' or 'foe'

A man that was selfless and brilliant but utterly stupid.

   Aspen however meets a boy, a boy she'd adored with her whole heart. Frustratingly beautiful boy who had the most gorgeous brown eyes, crooked glasses and perfect smile. For the first time, Aspen feels like a giddy teenager around the boy. For the first time she feels wanted.

Siren meets a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, they soon dislike each other from the start. From spidermans 'cockiness' to sirens 'arrogance' but they have to work together against a common enemy.

——————————————————————————

Peter was head over heels for the girl; when he first laid eyes on her. He loved the way she smiled, how her nose with scrunch up and she smiled so wide that you couldn’t even see her eyes. He loved the playfully glint in her eye when ever she made a deal. He loved how much she teased him. Aspen Davis has Peter Parker wrapped around her finger.

Aspen kept her on eye on the boy. She loved his crooked glasses, the face he makes when he’s focused in her physics class. She loved the nervous smile he gives to him. She loved a stupidly brave he was. She wouldn’t admit this to herself, she love a good chase. She loved the way they danced around each other, waiting for one or the other to confess.

The boy and girl simply existing in Hells Kitchen. Chaos all around them but they have each other. Hopelessly devoted to one another.

The siren and spider shining in the moonlight. Only ever sticking to each other out of curiosity, waiting for the others next move. Only ever helping each other with their problems. Spider-Mans is a lizard-man whole Sirens is a Gang Lord and scoret government organization.

Never revealing too much of themselves, afraid to show their true indentured behind their masks. But unkowningly, they know each other. The siren stuck-up and determined and the spider cocky and utterly stupid but yet smart? The siren and spider, slowly becoming friends the longer they stay with each other during the night.

But the more their new-found friendship turns into something more. Things become dangerous. Their lives are in danger, the people they care about the most. Secrets are revealed, broken promises, death surround them. Will they ever survive the heat of Hells Kitchen?

[melyaliz]

“I sit outside your window every night. I don’t look in or try to listen, ‘cause that’s rude, but I like to imagine we breathe in time while you sleep.”

Ok so this is not this request because it has nothing to do with this. I’m going to write another idea for this but I wanted to let you all know this is still @the-shadow-of-atlantis fault.

Annabella is @the-shadow-of-atlantis

Emotion.

If there was one word to describe Jennifer O’Neal it was Emotion. Ever since she was a young child Jennifer had always felt things so deeply, so strongly. It was what drew others to her and what tore her apart when they left her.

Which is why when her parents disappeared, a plane of people just missing in the air, her cousin Annabelle was ready to support her.

But when Jennifer and Faith came to Gotham the older sister was oddly calm. Standing by the Waynes during the funeral, three empty graves sitting side by side, A mother, a father and a best friend.

Once the crowds had cleared Jen informed them she would be gone for a few weeks getting an apartment ready for her and Faith to live here in Gotham. Before the accident, her family had planned on making their second home outside of Washington D.C. their permanent home but now Jennifer thought it would be better if they stayed close to their uncle and cousin.

“She wants me to go but help move the stuff from their house… could you help her?” Annabella asked Dick. “I think Faith needs me here.”

So here they were. The mini road trip to the small two-story house just outside the country's capital. The trip up consisted of many side trips down memory lane while throwing pork rinds at each other.

“Do you remember when Stacy freaked out because she found out these weren’t vegetarian?” Jennifer asked laughed looking over the greasy snack. Dick shook his head at the memory of the ditzy blonde freaking out over her odd obsession the week earlier.

“Didn’t she throw the bag at Tea”

“Yeah but that was after Tea called her a fucking idiot.”

Their laughter slowly dissolved as Dick pulled the car into the driveway. They would be meeting with movers in an hour or so to pack up what they wanted and give away the rest. It seemed as if a dark cloud had fallen over the mood as Dick parked.

Dick had only been there twice as a kid. He had loved the quaint yet homey feel that had always seemed to surround the O’Neal’s small family. It had always been what he had imagined a real family would look like, how they would live. Minus the bodyguard Kyo who had been with the family since before the girls had been born.  

Now the home now felt empty. Filled with echoes of the past around every corner. Jen walked wordlessly through the home, her fingertips brushing against the walls as if greeting an old friend. Her eyes taking in everything around them as they walked through the entryway, dining room, kitchen, and into the large living room.

A large white fireplace stood in the center, framed pictures hung above it. Smiling pictures of memories that seemed more like dreams than realities.

“Wow look at us,” Dick said picking up one of the pictures, one from them as kids at the museum. He chuckled lightly turns to show Jen when he realized that she wasn’t next to him.

“Jen?” He turned to see her on the floor of the entryway to the living room. Curled up in a tight ball just staring at the floor. Quickly he knelt down next to her. “Jen? Jen what’s wrong.”

“I can’t do this.’ she ran her fingers through her hair, “How am I going to do this?” she asked more the four walls of the home than him. Some ghost that seemed to be floating through this haunted home of happy memories.

“I… I just can’t believe it,” she whispered her eyes still fixed on the photo. “Like… they aren't gone… like...like…”

“Like they will just turn the corner at any moment and there they will be. Just as you remembered them? Smiling, happy.”

Jen nodded her eyes turning to his. Bright with unshed tears, held back with the shock, as it all sunk in. Dick was sure his heart would break for her in that moment. Watching as reality truly hit her.

Her parents, her life as it had been, was truly gone.

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked him again.

“I don't’ know” the truth.

“What did you do?”

“I… Honestly?”

“Yes.” she leaned forward, so close he could feel her breath on his face. As if she could breathe in his secret. Give her key to going back to being happy. That was all she wanted. To be happy again.

Dick sighed taking her hands in his, running his thumbs over her palms. Part of him wanted to just say her name. Tell her how she had been so instrumental in his healing. But part of that would be a lie. Because while she was a part, she wasn’t the only reason. It was a million names of people who he had met after the death of his own parents. All the people that had become more than just faces in a crowd, turning from bystanders to even more than just friends.

People who had become his family.

“I focused on my living family.”

----

The music seemed to pulse through the whole mansion as they walked in. Alfred greeted them with a thin smile as a Tim sat a few feet away, a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Hi”

“Hi, I’m Jennifer, Faith’s sister I don’t think we have officially met yet.”

“Tim Drake, your sister is in the dance studio.”

“Yeah, she does that when she’s stressed.” Jen nodded, “Nice to meet you!” she called over her shoulder as she walked down the hall meeting her Cousin half way.

“She’s been in there for hours.” Annabella mumbled holding a bottle of water, “I was going to see if she needed something.” Gently Jen smiled taking the bottle from the Wayne girl. Her whole being filled with confidence and purpose.

“Thanks, I’m going to talk to her.” Slowly she opened the door to reveal her small sister dancing across the floor. Jumps and leaps eyes hard against her own reflection pausing only to perfect a movement before continuing. So focused she didn’t even notice her sister until Jen grabbed her arm spinning her around.

“Je…” Her older sister cut her off pulling her into a hug.

“I’m here Faith. I’m sorry… but I’m here now,” she whispered holding her close. Faith froze for a moment before hugging her back suddenly letting out a soft sob she didn’t realize she had been fighting. With each movement, she had been fighting. Fight away that sorrow that was hiding right behind the music she had been filling herself with. Using the pulsing sound as a way to block it all out. Pushing away that darkness with every leap, every spin.

“I love you” Jennifer whispered kissing her forehead as tears began to spill from the younger girl's’ eyes.

“I….I…”

“I know”

From the doorway, Annabella walked slowly up to Dick who was watching.

“Thank you.”

“Huh?”

“You know,” Annabella said putting her hand on her brother’s arm.

Tagging: 

@royslittleharper @guns-n-lilies @the-shadow-of-atlantis @coffee-randomness @daisyboobear @werewitchling @nightwing-rules @jayne-writes @memento-scribet  

[miraculousgifts]

A Love Now Lost

    “Jason’s dead.” The two simple words filled the kitchen, echoing off the walls like a gunshot in the dead of night. Tiresa’s legs shook as though her body suddenly weighed a ton. Nails dug into marble as she gripped the counter for support. No. No! NO NO NO!

     “I’m so sorry, Tiresa.” An offer of support came as a warm hand covering her own. It was a reminder that she was not suffering alone. That this loss was not just her own. But the gesture was wasted as the psychic immediately shook it off, turning her back.

      Plip. Plip. Cool droplets fell from her blind eyes, echoing off the kitchen floor. It was just a few tears, at first. But then the flood came and they soon poured as her mind raced with worries. What had she said before he left for work? Had she kissed him goodbye? When did she last say she loved him? Did he know how much he meant to her?

      “D-did he suffer?” Tiresa’s voice was barely a whisper as she spoke. A stupid question, one that she already had the answer for. But she couldn’t stop herself from asking it. Maybe, just maybe, the response would be better.

      “No,” the other woman paused, hesitant, “He went quickly.”  It didn’t take a psychic to know that she was lying. Of course she would want to spare Tiresa any additional pain. But the lie brought no comfort. Blind eyes squeezed shut, trying to force the vision from her mind. She had foreseen this. Every. Unbearable. Second.

       A pained sigh escaped Tiresa’s chapped lips. “I warned him, Stacy. I told him that something was bound to happen. That, one day, someone was going to act quicker than him. I wish—” She swallowed hard. “I-I tried to stop him.” Knees buckled neath her and she soon found herself on the floor. The tile was unapologetically cold, but nothing could compare to the ice swallowing her heart. Her sobs grew stronger as a pale hand rose to clutch her chest.

       The other woman moved to her side, kneeling so that her face was level with Tiresa’s. “As much as I wish he had called in sick or taken the day off, he didn’t. You know he couldn’t have. He was too devoted to his work.” Jason’s partner placed a hand on the psychic’s shoulder. “Tiresa, this was a tragedy, but Jason had no way of knowing that this would happen last night. None of us did.”

       Those words were meant to comfort her, but they instead incited rage. “I did!” Tiresa had once again found her voice. It came out stronger than before. “I knew this was going to happen, Stacy! I saw it happen over and over again. And I couldn’t do a fucking thing to change it! These powers of mine, they’re useless! I couldn’t protect Jason!” She slammed her fist on the floor beneath her, biting her lip as she choked back the tears. “All I bring is death…”

       “Tiresa…” Stacy spoke up, her voice strained as she tried to control her own tears. “You couldn’t have prevented this. We all knew that something like this was bound to happen. It is a realization everyone on the force must come to terms with. But there was no way of knowing it would happen last night. Or that it would happen to Jason.” Her consoling words once more fell on deaf ears.

       “You don’t understand, Stacy. I can see the future! I knew this was going to happen. I saw it in a vision. Every grueling second. I knew Jason was going to do what he did. I knew he was going to lose his life! I foresaw ALL of it! It wasn’t just a fucking feeling. I K N E W HE WAS GOING TO BE KILLED.”

        Suddenly Tiresa jumped to her feet, heart pounding with anger. “I couldn’t protect him, but you could’ve! Where were you, Stacy? You were his partner; you were supposed to have his back! Where were Y O U?!” The psychic glared at the woman, screaming, teeth bared like a primal animal. “You left him to die! He would’ve given his life to protect you! You were his best friend; the person he trusted with his life! But where the hell were you when he needed you most?!”

         Turning her back, Tiresa shouted, “Get out!”

         “I’m sorry, Tiresa.” It was obvious that the psychic’s words hurt the other woman. But Stacy knew that they came from a place of unbearable hurt.

         “I said GET. OUT!” A vicious command. 

         Stacy sighed as she stood. She left something on the counter before heading for the door. “I’m so sorry, Tiresa. But please know that you aren’t facing this loss alone. Everyone at the department loved Jason…” With that, the officer left and the room was filled with a deafening silence.

         Once all the rage had fled her body, Tiresa grabbed the object on the counter. As soon as she felt what is was, the woman collapsed in a fit of tears. It was his cover. And inside that cover was the peridot charm she had given him on their first date. “This was supposed to protect you, Jason… It was supposed to keep you safe…”

[blindlygifted-blog]

A Love Now Lost

     “Jason’s dead.” The two simple words filled the kitchen, echoing off the walls like a gunshot in the dead of night. Tiresa’s legs shook as though her body suddenly weighed a ton. Nails dug into marble as she gripped the counter for support. No. No! NO NO NO!

      “I’m so sorry, Tiresa.” An offering of support came as a warm hand covering her own. It was a reminder that she was not suffering alone. That this loss was not just her own. But the gesture was wasted as the psychic immediately shook it off, turning her back. 

       Plip. Plip. Cool droplets fell from her blind eyes, echoing off kitchen floor. It was just a few tears, at first. But then the flood came and they soon poured as her mind raced with worries. What had she said before he left for work? Had she kissed him goodbye? When did she last say she loved him? Did he know how much he meant to her?

       “D-did he suffer?” Tiresa’s voice was barely a whisper as she spoke. A stupid question, one that she already had the answer for. But she couldn’t stop herself from asking it. Maybe, just maybe, the response would be good. 

       “No,” the other woman paused, hesitant, “He went quickly.”  It didn’t take a psychic to know that she was lying. Of course she would want to spare Tiresa any additional pain. But the lie brought no comfort. Blind eyes squeezed shut, trying to force the vision from her mind. She had foreseen this. Every. Unbearable. Second.

        A pained sigh escaped Tiresa’s chapped lips. “I warned him, Stacy. I told him that something was bound to happen. That, one day, someone was going to act quicker than him. I wish—” She swallowed hard. “I-I tried to stop him.” Knees buckled neath her and she soon found herself on the floor. The tile was unapologetically cold, but nothing could compare to the ice swallowing her heart. Her sobs grew stronger as a pale hand rose to clutch her chest.

        The other woman moved to her side, kneeling so that her face was level with Tiresa’s. “As much as I wish he had called in sick or taken the day off, he didn’t. You know he couldn’t have. He was too devoted to his work.” Jason’s partner placed a hand on the psychic’s shoulder. “Tiresa, this was a tragedy, but Jason had no way of knowing that this would happen last night. None of us did.”

        Those words were meant to comfort her, but they instead incited rage. “I did!” Tiresa had once again found her voice. It was came out stronger than before. “I knew this was going to happen, Stacy! I saw it happen over and over again. And I couldn’t do a fucking thing to change it! These powers of mine, they’re USELESS! I couldn’t protect Jason!” She slammed her fist on the floor beneath her, biting her lip as she choked back the tears. “All I bring is death...”

        “Tiresa...” Stacy spoke up, her voice strained as she tried to control her own tears. “You couldn’t have prevented this. We all knew that something like this was bound to happen. It is a realization everyone on the force must come to terms with. But there was no way of knowing it would happen to last night. Or that is would happen To Jason.” Her consoling words once more fell on deaf ears.

        “You don’t understand, Stacy. I can see the future! I KNEW this was going to happen. I saw it in a vision. Every grueling second. I knew Jason was going to do what he did. I knew he was going to lose his life! I foresaw ALL of it! It wasn’t just a fucking feeling. I K N E W HE WAS GOING TO BE KILLED.”

         Suddenly Tiresa jumped to her feet, heart pounding with anger. “I couldn’t protect him, but you could’ve! Where were you, Stacy? You were his partner; you were supposed to have his back! Where were Y O U?!” The psychic glared at the woman, screaming, teeth bared like a primal animal. “You left him to die! He would’ve given his life protecting you! You were his best friend; the person he trusted with his life! But where the hell were you when he needed you most?!”

          Turning her back, she shouted, “Get out!”

          “I’m sorry, Tiresa.” It was obvious that the psychic’s words hurt the other woman. But Stacy knew that they came from a place of unbearable hurt. 

          “I said GET. OUT!”

          Stacy sighed as she stood. She left something on the counter before heading for the door. “I’m so sorry, Tiresa. But please know that you aren’t facing this loss alone. Everyone at the department loved Jason...” With that, the other woman left and the room was filled with a deafeningly silence.

          Once all the rage had fled her body, Tiresa grabbed the object on the counter. As soon as she felt what is was, the woman collapsed in a fit of tears. It was his cover. And inside that cover was the peridot charm she had given him on their first date. “This was supposed to protect you, Jason… It was supposed to keep you safe…”