Day 351/365: “The Truth Of Unus Annus”

Egos Mob AU | Bartender/Informant: Jameson Jackson

| Jacksepticeye | Jameson Jackson | Egos Mob AU |

“Jameson is known as a bartender and owner of one of the oldest restuarants&bars in the city - “The Septic Eye”. He’s a very perceptive guy, who secretively works for The Family as an informant and a connection between spies and the Boss. His kind nature may be deceiving, but his ears and eyes spot everything.”

Introduction Post

— Commissions are OPEN! Made with Paint Tool Sai/FireAlpaca Art/Idea© LAN (Do NOT use without permission)

dad JJ, you don't look so good, are you fe-oh boy..

*cue JJ getting a stomach bug*

Henrik: Anti get the bucket

Anti: Got it -Gives JJ the bucket-

JJ: -Throws up-

Henrik: Let's go JJ, lets get you into bed buddy

I feel save with it so I still sleep with them

If you're fifteen or older an still sleep with a stuffed animal please reblog this.

My friend is embarrassed and thinks she’s the only one and I said id prove her wrong.

Decided to make some ego wallpapers as well! Here we have Marvin, Anti, and Schneep!

Adjusting [Branded AU]

I’m finally writing something for my own AU?!? You better believe it!

A small collection of short stories that encompass some of Jameson and Henrik’s experiences in the time short after Henrik’s rescue. These events are in chronological order, but they don’t all happen in the same day.

———————————————————————————-

Jamie knocked softly on the door to his guest’s room, careful not to startle him. After getting no response, he opened the door slightly and peered in. Henrik was sitting at the desk, staring at his reflection. He caught a glimpse of Jamie in the doorway and turned around, inviting him in with a wave. Jamie pulled over a chair and sat down pulling a device out of his pocket.

“What is that?” Henrik asked, wary of the strange device. Jamie put a hand up to tell him to wait before he flipped the lid on the device up. Three dots appeared on the cover facing Henrik, who watched as they blinked. Jamie tapped away on the other side and words began appearing.

“This is a device I made today that will hopefully aid you in understanding me until I can teach you sign language. Will this suffice?” Jamie looked up at Henrik as he finished. Henrik stared at the machine in wonder, with a hint of fear.

“How did you-” He stuttered. “What is that?”

“Its a mini dual-screen computer I made.”

“You…. What? What is a com-computer?” Jamie looked at Henrik in confusion at the question.

“You don’t know-” He paused and deleted the text.”What year is it to you?”

“1807. Why?”

Jamie looked at Henrik, shock clear on his face.

“How can that be? You’re not a time traveler, are you?”

“What? No? Why would you ask that?”

“You- Henrik, you said you were captured when you were in college, right?”

“Yes, I am 23.”

“No… You’re 225. You were under their control for over two hundred years.”

Henrik’s eyes widened and he looked back at himself in the mirror. “no that cannot be…” His fingers traced his face, ending at his beard. “I guess that explains the facial hair…” He mumbled before turning around again. “But how? Over 200 years? How am I not de-”

Jameson looked at Henrik, his gaze intense and searching. Henrik gulped and nervously looked around before he felt the gaze leave. He looked back and saw Jamie typing away again. “When you attacked me, your eyes were glowing, like magic. Can you do that again?”

Henrik looked confused before he closed his eyes, searching inside himself for something… he wasn’t quite sure what. His memory was still fuzzy, and after a while, he came up empty-handed. Henrik shook his head and looked back at Jamie.

“I still can’t really remember anything… I know I had powers, but I don’t remember what they were. I can’t feel them anymore.”

“They might have been linked to the mask.” Jamie tapped his chin, in thought. “If we can remove the masks, we might be able to save the others…”

“Others?”

“Yes. Since your capture, whoever is doing this has been building an army. I do not know why, or how many there are. About 30 years ago is when the government finally took notice of what was happening. But my parents-” Jamie stopped typing suddenly. He sighed with a sad look on his face. “… knew before then. They tried to help…” Jamie looked at his hands. Henrik noticed that his breathing had gotten more rapid, and reached out. He grabbed Jamie’s hand gently and his heart dropped when Jamie’s head shot up, fear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry that happened. But you’re fine now.” Henrik gave him a small smile. Jamie mirrored his smile before going back to his computer.

“Thank you, Henrik.”

— — —

Henrik tapped his pen against his chin, trying to remember anything. Jameson recommended that writing what he remembered down in a journal would help him get his memories back. It did help a little bit, but the only things he could remember were from the last week before he was saved. He let out a huff of frustration and glanced at the clock. 4:29 pm. He grabbed his cane and just as the clock struck half past, he hit it five times on the floor.

Jameson looked up as the five taps sounded, right on time. He pressed a little button under the desk before turning his attention back to his customer, who was looking at the ceiling confused.

“What was that?” She asked.

“Oh, it was just this clock I have up there.” Jameson signed. “It broke a while ago and now sounds half after every hour. I’ll fix it eventually, but customers come first.”

“Interesting clock…” The two of them returned to the task on hand, a small pocket watch that the woman’s partner wanted to be fixed.

A couple of hours later, Jameson flipped the open sign on his door to the closed side and locked the door. He made his way back to the register to count and store the day’s earnings. He glanced at the clock- 7:02 pm. Henrik was late. He pressed the button under the desk three times as an “is everything alright?” After waiting for a few moments without response, he left the cash on a shelf and quickly walked up the stairs. He opened the door to Henrik’s room with a little more force than usual, eyes searching the room. He saw Henrik slumped over at his desk, cane laying on the floor. He could feel his heartbeat in his chest as he quietly walked over and placed a hand on Henrik’s shoulder. At the small touch, Henrik shot up, knocking the chair to the floor and whipping his cane-sword up in a single fluid motion. Jamie jumped back before the sword could cut him, putting his hands up. Henrik’s fear and anger filled expression softened as soon as his eyes focused on Jamie across the room. He immediately put his sword back and searched Jamie.

“I’m sorry, you’re not hurt are you?” Jamie looked himself over before giving a double thumbs up. Henrik let out a breath and placed his cane on the desk. “Thank goodness. Sorry again, I’m just a little jumpy.” He paused and looked around. “Wait why are you up here?”

Jamie pointed at the clock on the wall, which was now at 7:06 pm.

“Oh. I guess I fell asleep.” Henrik rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “But I guess its still a good idea to do this whole thing. We need to keep each other safe after all.” Jameson nodded and made a few motions with his hands. Henrik still didn’t know much sign language, but he could still decipher the message. “Yeah, I’ll try not to fall asleep and worry you like that again.”

— — —

Jameson’s eyes shot open to see darkness. He rolled over and with the press of a small button on his arm, his right eye shut down its visual sensors, turning on a light instead. His room was illuminated by a faint green glow as he looked around, listening.

I know I heard something…. Jameson thought. Henrik isn’t having nightmares again, is he? He slowly stood up and made his way over to the door, not bothering to attach his prosthetic arm. He creaked open the door and looked down the hall. Henrik’s door was slightly open, so Jameson made his way over. He pushed the door open gently and looked around. Henrik wasn’t in bed. There was a crash from downstairs and Jameson jumped. He made his way to the staircase, stepping close to the sides instead of the middle of the steps. This feels familiar… Jamie held what remained of his right arm close to his side as he neared the bottom. His light dimmed slightly as he listened. There was some shuffling from the front room. Please no. They didn’t find me again, did they? He made his way as quietly as possible to the front of his shop and peeked around the corner. A shadowed figure was crouching behind his register, searching through the boxes under the desk. There was a faint blue glow coming from the figure’s face, but his back was turned. Jameson backed up, his heart rate speeding up. No, I thought I was smart about this! How did they find me? How- He took in a quick breath and his light suddenly flared, lighting up the room in a green glow. The figure’s head shot up and turned slowly. Jameson gasped.

Henrik?!

The man was looking at him, blank eyes glowing slightly blue. The two men studied each other for a bit, neither one really sure what to do next. Suddenly, Henrik stood up and strode over to Jameson, grabbing his nightshirt in one hand.

“Where is it, Jameson?” He said, voice blank but intimidating.

“What?” Jameson signed with one hand.

“MY MASK. Where is it?” Jameson opened his mouth but no sound came out. Let me talk to him! He needs to snap out of this! LET ME SPEAK!! Henrik glared at the silent man.

“Useless. A broken puppet.” Henrik released the shirt with force and Jamie stumbled to the side. Henrik began making his way into the shop again. Jameson felt anger flare up in him, not for Henrik, but at his inability to speak. I need to stop him before he finds it. But how? Jameson stood and the movement caught Henrik’s attention again.

“Do you think you can stop me? Do you think you can stop us?” Henrik stood and smirked as Jameson walked over. “You. Are. Broken. There is nothing you can do. Once I’m done here-”

*SLAP*

Henrik’s head shot to the side from Jameson’s powerful slap. He blinked a couple times before he brought his hand up to his face. He glared at Jamie, eyes flashing blue again. “YOU-” *SLAP*

Jameson slapped Henrik again. This time, he stayed looking to the side, blinking slowly, as if he was waking up. When he turned back again, the blue glow was gone from his eyes.

“Jam-Jamie?” Jameson’s expression softened as Henrik looked around, confused. He brought his hand up to his face again, wincing as his cheek stung. “What happened?”

“You were a puppet.” Jamie signed slowly. Henrik studied the movements, deciphering them the best he could. His eyes widened in fear and he backed away.

“What? How? Did I hurt you?”

Jamie shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s you we should be worried about. What do you remember?” Jamie lead Henrik back upstairs and into his room, where he turned on his bedside lamp and returned his eye back to its original function. He grabbed and attached his arm before the two of them sat on his bed.

“I remember… getting ready for bed. That’s when I heard a voice whispering. Telling me to find… something. I tried to push the voice away and sleep, but it just got louder. I had to find it. Silence it. But then, it started laughing. ‘You can’t silence me. You can’t stop me. You will find me. You will…’ You will lose.” Jamie noticed the sudden shift in tone and looked up at Henrik’s face, whose eyes had started glowing again. “You will lose. You cannot stop us. You-”

Jamie jabbed Henrik’s sore cheek with a finger, snapping him out of it again. Henrik looked around confused, blue glow gone.

“Did- Did it happen again? My mind went blank…” Jamie nodded and Henrik’s face dropped. “I can’t stop it. It keeps whispering. That darn mask. Why won’t it just leave me alone?” Henrik put his head in his hands. Jamie rested a gentle hand on Henrik’s back, noticing how he tensed up before relaxing a little. Henrik looked over and Jamie drew his hand back.

“Maybe I can… try to dispose of the mask? Do you think that would help?”

“NO!” Henrik grabbed Jamie’s arm before letting go and putting his hand to his mouth. His eyes flickered blue, filled with fear. “Please, do it. I can’t live like this Jamie.” He mumbled into his hand. Jamie nodded and stood, watching Henrik as he walked to the door. Henrik didn’t meet his gaze, instead holding his hands close. Jamie walked down the hall and lit the fireplace in a side room. He left to grab the mask from its hiding spot and when he came back up the stairs, he saw Henrik tossing his coat into his room. Jamie hid the mask on his other side and gave Henrik a small encouraging smile as he walked into the room again. He closed the door most of the way and made his way to the fireplace, pulling out a pair of fire-resistant tongs. He grabbed the mask with those before slipping it into the fire, keeping his mechanical side away from the fire. Once he made sure the mask was sitting in the middle of the fire, he poked at the logs trying to make the fire bigger. He returned the togs to their place, turned around to grab a seat, and noticed Henrik in the doorway, watching the fire with tired eyes.

“Will that work?” He asked, leaning against the doorway.

“It should melt it once it gets hot enough.” Jamie grabbed a chair and sat down, ignoring Henrik’s raised eyebrow. “Would you like a seat?”

“Probably not a good idea to get me closer to that thing.” Jamie nodded and looked back at the mask before looking at Henrik.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just a little warm-”

A sudden crack drew Jamie’s attention, and he saw that one of the lenses on the mask had cracked. It cracked again and a piece of glass fell into the flames. There was a noise behind him and Jamie turned to see Henrik on the floor, still leaning against the doorway.

“Henrik?”

“Why does it… hurt…?” His voice shook as he clutched his chest. Jamie stood quickly and went to his side, he pressed his hand to Henrik’s forehead. It was burning up. Henrik groaned, seemingly in pain and Jamie tried to stand up, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm. “Don’t take it oUT!” Henrik yelled and fell into Jamie’s arms, shaking.

Henrik!

Jamie looked between the mask, which had begun to melt, and Henrik, shaking in his arms and breathing deeply.

“Don’t take it out! You’re killing h-me! NO! I’ll be fi- AAAGGGGH!!” Henrik’s eyes flashed blue and he desperately clawed at Jamie’s shirt, trying to fight off the tugging of the strings. Jameson froze, not knowing what to do. This scenario, the yelling, the fire, his mind went blank. All he could do was si,t hoping that the man in his arms doesn’t explode. He snapped out of the blankness when the shuddering form below him spoke again.

“Please… make it stop….” Henrik’s scratchy voice faded as his body went limp. Jamie looked down at Henrik, whispering his name frantically. He rolled Henrik over and was relieved when he saw his chest slowly rise and fall. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat, but his expression finally calm. Jamie gently moved Henrik into his arms and with only a little effort, lifted him up. As he went to bring him back to his room, he glanced at the fireplace, seeing the last remains of the mask melting into the flames.

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Weiterlesen

Marvin's Cage

Story One l Story Two l Story Three l l Story Four l Story Five

This is part 1 of the sixth story, where Marvin's secret comes to light. Tws for extreme distress, imprisonment, Anti's general creepiness, and mentions of human trafficking.

Thanks for reading! Let me know if you love to hate it. I'll hopefully have the next part fairly soon. But also this is quite long, as a heads up

Okay, here we go...

They stack cards in terse silence, racing through decks, climbing up to Jacks, Queens, Kings. They both grab at a black seven of hearts at the same time and end up slapping at each other's hands, JJ yanking the card back just before his opponent. Anti cackles and keeps flipping cards, waiting for the next one to snatch.

“Peanuts,” signs JJ suddenly, and Anti swears and laughs and starts picking the cards up to re-deal, doling them out in piles, and they're playing again, without a word, stacking decks, up and up and up.

After a few rounds, JJ reaches for a bottle of water at his side, sucking it down and brushing at his sweaty hair. Anti rocks on his thighs, chewing at his nails. “Where's your sweet Big Brother today, child?” he asks.

“Comes and goes,” signs JJ, setting his bottle down and getting a granola bar out of its box for lunch. “Birthday week. Celebrate, family. But he will come see me soon. He loves me because I've been very good.”

He stacks up a fresh set for another game, yawning.

“He ought to let you come play with me in the real world,” purrs Anti, stroking his thumb across JJ's chin. Jameson shivers, but he does not protest. “He's so mean to keep you from me. Now all I get to do is come visit you and play silly games. My warm flesh... don't you know I miss you?”

JJ sorts his cards quietly, avoiding his eye. Anti reaches forward and grips his neck, squeezing gently.

“My warm flesh,” he repeats softly, licking his lips.

Jameson breathes through his mouth as Anti begins to strangle him, keeping calm. The easiest thing is just to get through it. If he talks back or makes Anti angry, then he'll really get hurt, and there will be nothing he can do to stop it. Anti gets up on his knees and crawls into JJ's space, pushing him down onto the floor of his cage. He straddles his waist and increases the pressure on his throat. JJ gazes up at him, still.

“We had such a good time together,” hums Anti, feeling his thready human heartbeat beneath his hands. “Didn't we?”

JJ doesn't remember much good about his time with Anti. He knows the taste of a human heart in his mouth. He was once chained against a wall so tightly he couldn't protest when the rats began to gnaw at him. At one point, he was so delirious and hurt that he believed he was dead for two weeks straight.

That's the good thing about his Brother. Not being allowed to leave this box doesn't matter, and neither do the occasional beatings or possessions Anti causes him, because Brother would never let anything half as horrible as the things Anti used to do to him happen anymore. Brother protects him from Anti – and protects everyone else in the world from Anti using his body.

He shudders at the memory of his teeth clamping down around the beating muscle his hands pulled from a stranger's chest. Blood leaking onto his tongue, warm as it filled his mouth. He was laughing. His fingers dug into soft, squishy organs, the filth filling up his broken nails, and his heart beat like the wing of a hummingbird beneath his ribs, making him dizzy with Anti's sick delight.

Yes. Brother protects him. Brother protects everyone. That's why he's here.

He's just beginning to lose consciousness from the cut-off of his oxygen when something stops Anti.

His head tilts and his ears perk up as he stills, paying attention to something JJ has not sensed yet. His mismatched eyes flicker back and forth as he thinks – and then a wide smile grows on his face.

“Please let go,” signs JJ, squirming.

“Someone... other than Marvin,” Anti mumbles. “Oh, this will be really good.”

JJ stills, blinking. Anti creeps to his feet, gazing through the front of JJ's box from the corner, trying to look without being seen. His eyes light up with a venomous light. He turns his smile towards JJ, eyes gleaming.

He crawls back into JJ's space, tucking a strand of his brother's hair behind his ear. JJ holds still as Anti leans close to him, whispering against his ear:

“Things are going to change for you now, my darling. But I'll see you again soon. I promise. So don't forget about me, child – not even for a moment.”

A cold kiss presses against the side of JJ's head.

Then Anti is gone, leaving only a faint and fading trail of glitching colors behind him.

JJ waits for a few moments, but he's so used to Anti's mannerisms he can't even be unnerved. He sighs, scattering the cards across the floor. Well, if Anti is gone, he'll have to find something else to do.

He reaches for his violin, getting to his feet and stretching a little before setting the bow down. Still, he can't shake a feeling that something in the air has changed for good.

.

Jackie treads on the solid floor of the endless mirror, his head tilted as he listens to the music.

“What the hell is this?” he whispers, creeping forward.

It's certainly not a portal to anywhere, not like it used to be, or at least this isn't the door. Instead there's some kind of box, a shed or a tiny house like on TV or maybe just a really weird puppet theater. The words “JJ's Jolly Jaunts” is spread across the top of the inside layer, behind bars, and it makes Jackie's stomach do a weird, foreboding turn that he doesn't understand.

Something about this is fucked up, that's all he knows. But if it has something to do with his missing brother – well, why wouldn't Marvin tell him? Has he been trying to find him? Is this some freaky memorial to him? Does Marvin think he's dead?

His next footstep lands heavily, echoing a little in the expanse. The music that he thought must have played from a speaker cuts off with a timid release of the violin bow from its strings, and he stops dead in his tracks.

Something is in here.

Someone is in here.

Being alarmed and weirded out, however, is only a catalyst for Jackie's curiosity, and the not-knowing becomes almost unbearable. He races towards the box, setting his tense fingers on the side of the barred window as he looks in.

There are decorations like fairy nights and pinned-up drawings of animals overhead a big red rug and a mattress with blankets and pillows disarrayed on top. A small curtain covers a corner in the back, stuffed animals stack against the wall opposite, and there are tupperware containers and cardboard boxes full of granola bars, dried fruits, cookies, and more. Art supplies scatter across the floor – paper and charcoal and bits of fabric and buttons. Jackie leans a little farther over the sill, his face nearly pressing against the bars around the outside, and he sees homemade puppets among the felt and sewing materials.

“This is fucked,” he mutters, turning to the left. Pressed closer, he can see some cleaning supplies. He turns to the right and –

Jackie rears back with a shout, his heart leaping into a double-time march.

Silence in the mirror realm. Nothing moves.

Deep breaths, Jackie. Deep breaths.

“Jameson?” he whispers, stepping cautiously back towards the cage. “I... is that you?”

It looked like him, for the moment where Jackie's eyes landed on him, a figured pressed against the closest corner of the box, clutching a violin like a shield and staring back at Jackie with wide eyes. But it couldn't be. Why would he be here? None of this makes sense, but the idea that comes closest – of course.

“Not Jameson,” he realizes, face darkening. “Anti. Right? Marvin caught you, didn't he? And he's... trying to get you out of Jameson's skin. Trying to make you let him go. You fucking parasite.”

There's a slight scraping of cloth on wood. Jackie tenses, licking his mouth, and waits for Anti to start laughing and step out to see him.

But nothing moves.

“If you're trying to get me to come closer, you missed your opportunity,” snarls Jackie. “Fuck, I can't believe – why wouldn't he tell me about this? It must have been just the last couple weeks that he caught you, since we fought just before. You've been possessing him this whole time, then, bastard? You're a creep. When I figure this out with Marvin, you'll never touch him again.”

And Jackie waits again, but... nothing.

This isn't like Anti. Not taunting? Not snarling and snapping or teasing Jackie over every failure he's ever been haunted by?

Why the pictures on the wall? Why all the stuffed animals? What the hell is going on?

“Forget you, then,” Jackie scowls. “I need to go talk to Marvin.”

He turns to walk away, back towards the portal, mind racing. He needs to talk to him before he gets more confused.

He touches the portal to leave.

Why the pictures? Turtles and bears and butterflies?

That's not Anti.

It must be.

Why the stuffed animals? A well-loved puppy, ratty with hugs and petting?

Anti wouldn't do that.

It only looks like Jameson because it's Anti. It has to be Anti.

Why any of this? The obvious time that's been spent in that box even though he saw Anti not a month past? The scared look on Anti's face as he hid from Jackie, something he's never done before? The violin music? Does Anti play violin now?

That is not Anti.

But it has to be, so –

“I need to talk to Marvin,” he repeats to himself, heart racing again. “I need...”

Marvin lied to me.

Marvin didn't tell me about this. Hid this. On purpose. Denied all of it a hundred times.

No. That's my little brother. I can trust him.

He lied.

And that –

It's Anti.

It's not Anti.

It has to be.

It isn't.

Looking back at this moment, Jackie will wonder what would have happened if he went through that portal and asked Marvin what was going. What he would have said. If he would have lied, if he would have made excuses. If he would have just been silent.

It doesn't matter now.

He knows that something is not right, and he can't trust Marvin – shit, he's never had that thought before, not once in his life – so he has to figure this out on his own.

He walks back towards that cage in the middle of the endless reflections of himself. In the mirrors, he can see himself walk towards the box from behind – steady, tentative steps, tense shoulders beneath a red jacket, hands in black gloves squeezed into fists. He can see himself from the side, with his mouth parted and his eyes fixed ahead. He can see his own face, looking into his own eyes, looking into the face he shares with his younger brother, the first younger brother he had, the one who made everything else worth having.

As he comes back towards the box, he realizes that whoever is in there must have thought he left like he said he would, because now he hears soft sobbing coming from inside. He hears the moment the violin is set aside with a slight thud, and cloth slides against the wood as the prisoner sits down on the floor. Jackie stands outside, listening, his eyes beginning to burn.

Not Anti. Not Anti. He knows. In his heart, yes – in his heart he already knows.

“Hello?” he calls.

The crying cuts off. Jackie closes his eyes. Deep breaths. Deep breaths, Jackie, even if this can't be true.

“Look, Anti,” he says. “If that's you, well. I hate your guts, but I still don't think you should be trapped in a box like this. Nobody should be. Come out and tell me what's going on and we'll figure this out.”

The prisoner doesn't bite.

“Okay,” sighs Jackie. “Um. Listen, I... I'm sorry I yelled. If you're not Anti, please let me know. I'm not going to hurt you. I was just surprised. And scared, I think. I don't know what's going on.”

A soft, shaky breath moves through the air.

“I'm going to come closer now,” says Jackie, straightening up. “I'm going to look at you again. Please don't scratch my eyes out or anything. Okay.”

He leans in for a second time, bringing his head close to the bars.

There he is. The prisoner in the corner. He's sitting down now, arms wrapped around himself. His face is mostly hidden in the knees drawn to his chest, but his eyes –

Big blue eyes look up at Jackie from beneath overgrown, mousy brown curls.

Jackie has never claimed to be good at reading others. He actually tends to miss plenty that other people seem to find obvious in mere expressions and gestures. But this...

No. He could never forget this exact look, these exact eyes. The eyes of the little brother that stared up at him for hours that night so many months ago when he lost him. The eyes that were looking at him when he lost consciousness and woke up to an empty bed and a missing piece of his heart. The fear and the confusion and the hope and the love all at once.

His Jameson.

Jackie bows his head and cries.

For long minutes he's bent over the side of that ledge by the box, one hand clinging to the bars behind which his youngest brother has been kept as a prisoner, and he can't seem to stop no matter how hard he tries. There is no noise from Jameson. Jackie can't look at him again. Can't bear it.

And then the soft brush of something against his hand startles Jackie from his breakdown, and he looks up to find a tissue pressed against his fingers.

JJ has brought him a tissue.

Jackie stares at him and Jameson looks back, ducking his head shyly now, even as he pulls Jackie's fingers around the Kleenex, plucking gently at his hand. Jackie takes the tissue. JJ backs away again, still holding that battered violin to his chest like a shield.

“Thank you,” croaks Jackie.

Jameson nods just a little, eyes fixed on him.

“Do you... remember me?” asks Jackie. “We were... it was so short. Just that night. And you were sick and confused. He'd been possessing you a long time and I just – do you remember at all or...?”

Jameson scoots a little closer, chewing at his nails for a second.

His fingers reach out to touch Jackie's again. Curl around the back of his hand and settle there. Soft.

He nods just a little a second time.

Yeah. He remembers.

“Jameson,” breathes Jackie.

He reaches for his hand in return. Their fingers lock together through the bars.

Laughter bubbles up in the empty coldness of the mirror realm, and after a moment Jackie realizes he is the one he's laughing.

“Yes,” he laughs, squeezing his hands, and JJ looks back at him in awe, letting his violin fall to the side. “Yeah, Jameson, my little brother. You remember me. You're alive! You're here! JJ, JJ... how do I get you out?”

He wants to be holding him. Now. Wants to wrap him up like the kittens Marvin used to sneak into the house and take him back to the world and never let him the fuck out of his sight again.

Jameson glances to the right of his box and Jackie goes racing around the side to find the opening. There's nothing but a half-door carved into the side and this is locked by a padlock with no keyhole. Jackie grabs the chunk of metal, frowning, and there – carved into the back of the metal are sigils that burn with heat even untouched in the coldness.

Magic.

He returns to JJ, taking his hand again.

“I'm going to get you out of here,” he says, and it's so true and so important in his chest that it hurts somehow to get the words out. “I'm here now and I will not let anything more happen to you.”

He wishes JJ would smile or nod or anything like that. But he just stares at Jackie with that big, starry awe in his blue eyes, and squeezes his hand softly, shuffling closer to him, staring. Jackie holds his breath as Jameson leans his head against the bars of his prison so his forehead almost touches Jackie's. He picks up the discarded tissue and presses it against Jackie's reddened cheeks, mouth parting.

Jackie clings to his hands and closes his eyes, letting his little brother brush his tears away.

“Jameson,” he says, just soft, though everything seems loud in the silence, in the emptiness, in the endless cold. “Tell me who did this to you.”

JJ draws away. There is a pause where he looks down at his toys and his animals and his art. His hands wrap around each other. He shrugs his shoulders weakly.

“Tell me,” says Jackie, reaching for him again. “Jamie, my Jamie. Tell me.”

His head already knows, but in his chest –

No.

Jameson chews at his nails for a second, big eyes flashing up to Jackie, and then he turns and points at the picture pinned to the wall above his mattress.

In JJ's charcoals, Marvin is thin and tired, but whoever drew the curve of his sorrowful mouth and detailed the light in his eyes loves him.

Jackie's heart stays steady. His eyes do not burn. His lets out just one more shaking breath.

Very well, then.

“Jameson,” he says. “I will be right back.”

.

“No! No, not even like that.”

“There's no scenario in which this works, Chase.”

“Guys, hear me out!” Chase cries, re-adjusting on the couch between them and snagging popcorn from Marvin's bowl. “Okay, so the earth is round – ”

“Well, he's got that much right,” says Marvin.

“Already better than I was expecting, to be fair,” agrees Henrik.

“The earth is ROUND,” re-iterates Chase, shoving them both. “So theoretically, if I got enough momentum, and there was a path that went all the way around... I could Heely the whole way round the earth.”

“No,” groan his siblings, throwing popcorn at him. “No, that still doesn't – ”

“Haters! Haters, the both of you!”

Marvin's laughing and antagonizing Chase by pushing him with his socked feet, trying to throw him off the couch while Henrik shields the cat from the fighting on the other side of the cushions. They've been talking about stupid shit for so long he's completely lost track of the plot of the movie they're watching, but it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters but them. And you know what, he feels good today, feels light and painless for the first time in a long time. For them to actually set aside the time for his birthday... well, that's the only thing he could have asked for. That and some earrings. And food. And a couple other things he wanted. But really the time together is the important stuff.

And here comes Jackie to complete them.

“Good afternoon, my darling, and will you be joining us?” he crows, letting his feet fall into Chase's lap instead of continuing to try and shove him off the couch. “Sit down with us and let's – um, Jackie?”

Why is he standing like that? Too still on the stairs. Wild, bouncy Jackie frozen stiff with his palm spread out against the wall, steadying him like a statue with a weak foundation. In his other hand: his fighting staff, extended and clenched so hard in his fingers that they have gone red with blood.

“Jackie?” asks Chase. All three of them are staring up at him by now, the TV playing loudly in front of them. “Everything okay?”

Jackie blinks at him a couple times, his face blank.

Henrik and Chase look at each other, eyebrows raising. Marvin's eyes are just fixed on their oldest brother. He realizes that his body has gone just as tense as Jackie's, his legs swinging off Chase's lap and setting firmly against the carpeted floor, a hand pressed against the cushion beside him.

Jackie starts shaking his head. Head low, eyes haunted.

“What's the matter?” asks Marvin.

Jackie shakes his head at him. His mouth is taut and his eyes narrow, angry like a wounded dog.

Marvin's throat is dry.

“What's the matter?” he repeats.

“Chase, Henrik,” says Jackie. “Go to Stacy's and stay there til I say you can come home.”

Chase pauses the movie, gaping at Jackie. Beyond the bizarre suddenness of the request, he never calls Schneep 'Henrik.' After a second, he moves to rise, but Henrik reaches across them to grab his arm and pull him back down.

“I don't think we're going anywhere, my friend,” says Henrik softly. “What's going on?”

“'Maybe Marvin can tell you,” Jackie answers.

Marvin can almost feel his own neurons firing. In a second, he has made the decision to lie through his teeth.

Because this isn't happening. He won't let this be happening. Jackie does not know – you've been scared that he does a million times before and they've all been false alarms, don't overreact, this is just some kind of misunderstanding – and he will never know. He will never, never know.

“Jackie, I don't know what's going on,” says Marvin sadly. “Tell us, please.”

“Yeah, Jackie, shit, you're freaking me out,” Chase agrees. “You want me to turn the lights off? You can lie down and – ”

“I'm fine,” says Jackie. “Marvin, you know, you – ”

“I don't know what's going on.”

“I went in your room.”

He laughs. Doesn't know why. “Okay?”

Henrik and Chase just look between him and Jackie. Jackie starts coming down the stairs. Heavy footsteps on the wood.

“Let's go look together.”

Marvin's smiling at his brother, his lip snarling a little.

He nightmared over this moment so many times. Is it really here? He always thought it would make him scared.

It just makes him angry.

Jackie doesn't know shit and it will stay that way. Stupid, naive Jackie. Marvin will lie his way out of this if he has to gaslight Jackie til Chase and Henrik call him crazy.

“There's nothing in there,” he says.

Jackie grabs him by the arm.

“Jackie!” calls Henrik, getting to his feet and setting his hands indignantly on his hips. Marvin wants to laugh again. Schneep is using his big, bad doctor voice, just like he would with any other argument in their house. Like they're fighting over who flooded the sink or whether to keep the kittens Queenie's pregnant with. Like it's just any other day.

There's no inkling in either him or Chase that this is Marvin's apocalypse. Somehow, it makes him feel powerful. Even if Jackie does have some idea of what's going on, only Marvin knows how deep this really goes.

“Don't grab him like that,” Henrik is scolding. “Now tell us what's going on or – ”

“Don't bother, Schneep,” says Marvin, staring right at Jackie. “He's angry. And you know Jackie when he's angry. He doesn't listen to anyone.”

Jackie's ears draw back and his mouth clamps tighter. He's gazing right back at Marvin. Heat like a geyser in his blue eyes.

“Let him drag me, whatever,” Marvin continues. “He'll realize he was wrong with whatever he's talking about later and come sobbing to me for forgiveness. 'Oh, Marvel, I was so mean, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry...'”

Jackie yanks him hard towards the stairs, ignoring Chase and Henrik shouting at them. Marvin lets him march him towards his room, but it's becoming less funny. His eyes burn and it seems difficult to breathe. His heart pounds against his ribs hard enough that Jackie might be able to feel it from his grip on him.

He can see Anti under Jameson's skin in days gone by, signing slowly at him, promising him that he'll regret what he's done. He laughs weakly as Jackie tears open the door of his room and shoves him inside.

“Jackie, don't push him!” shouts Chase, tugging on the back of Jackie's sweatshirt. “Hey, look at me!”

“Tell them what's in the mirror, Marvin.” Jackie advances on him. Marvin tries to move past him, but he won't let him. Pushing him back towards Jamie's mirror. “Tell them.”

“You've lost it, Jackie,” snaps Marvin.

“Jackie, what's gotten into you?” cries Chase. “Leave him alone! Marvin?”

Marvin wants to call to him – baby, it's okay, amata, don't worry – but how is he supposed to say that now, with Jackie pushing him towards that prison he created? In his heart, he wishes Chase would save him.

“Tell them what's in the mirror!” screams Jackie, and he lunges forward as his composure breaks, slamming Marvin into the wall beside the mirror. Marvin shrieks as his brother's hands wrap around his throat and pin him hard to the plaster. One of the cats is yowling in the doorway and Chase and Henrik are both yowling too, grabbing at them and trying to pull Jackie off, but he will not be moved.

“Tell me you're Anti!” Jackie howls. “You're possessing Marvin! Or he's blackmailing you! Tell me, tell me! My little brother! Tell me you didn't do this to him!”

Marvin does not know if he laughs or sobs in that moment.

Jackie throws him hard to the ground when he does not answer, his staff striking the ground beside his head. “You let him out of that cage, Anti! Now!”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” chokes Marvin.

“Jameson's in that mirror,” shouts Jackie, whirling on their younger brothers. “He's locked up like a fucking dog! Like an animal! This isn't Marvin, it's Anti!”

Marvin stares at the ceiling, writhing beneath Jackie's hands as Chase and Henrik back off, asking questions and exclaiming at Jackie as their oldest brother starts to relate what he saw. Marvin can't breathe.

A little box. A box with bars on the front and a magical lock on it. Him just lying all small inside, with his toys and violin and drawings and snacks. Jameson. Jameson.

Jackie knows.

Jackie knows!

A nightmare – it's a nightmare. It's a nightmare!

“Get off!” he screeches, and when Jackie doesn't budge Marvin opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into the hand holding his chin down.

Jackie yelps and draws back. Henrik jerks forward to keep Marvin down, now, clinging to his clothes.

“Marv, Marv,” chants Henrik, holding him carefully. “Hey. If you're in trouble, we'll figure this out. Just let's be calm. And if you're Anti – there's no point to running.”

“But Anti can't get in here,” Chase puts in, frustrated. “You guys know that. Marvin warded the place to hell and he doesn't know where the mirror that comes to our house is.”

“Chase, go check the warding,” orders Jackie. “Anti might have compromised him instead of possessing him. He must have been at it for months. That's why he's been acting so weird. Blackmail or something. I didn't think it was Anti because I thought you would have come to me if he were hurting you!”

No, no, no! Marvin grips at his head, giggling again. This is just a half-truth and their disapproval and fear and distrust is already too much to bear. If they find out the truth – if they know –

He was right, though! He had to do it!

“Come, my brother, up we get,” says Henrik, wrapping an arm gently around his waist. Jackie still looks like he wants to beat the demons out of him, but he lets Henrik handle him. Marvin slinks to his feet with his brother's arm around him and Henrik sits him down on his bed.

“Okay, now, tell us what's been going on,” he murmurs, brushing a few strands of hair from his eyes.

Marvin grips his wrist, dizzied. He doesn't want him to step back. He wants Henrik to stop this from happening.

“Has Anti been talking to you?” Henrik asks in a hush. “What has he done, my dear? You can tell us now. Is Jameson really there?”

His Schneep. He's as feral as a rabid squirrel most of the time, but then, when he needs him, his brother melts into soft touches and a quiet, even voice. Unflappable, reliable, steady Henrik. Marvin cups his chin, staring up at him.

“Don't touch him,” says Jackie darkly, standing posed like a toy boxer behind Henrik. “Don't put a hand on him.”

“The warding is fine,” calls Chase, coming back into the room. “Nothing smudged or anything.”

“Anti may be manipulating him from a distance,” says Henrik. “Threatening and holding things over him. Jameson... did he threaten to hurt him? Marvin, you were trying to protect him, yes?”

Jackie's stance slackens, his fingers loosening around the staff, and Marvin sees the moment where his eyes soften for him. Chase comes close too and stands beside Henrik, rubbing a hand along Marvin's shoulder.

“Breathe, amata,” he says. Sunny, starry Chase. His Chase. “It's gonna be okay, Marv. I promise. What did Anti do? He hurt you, huh?”

Marvin stares up at him, mouth parted. His eyes flicker towards his own figure in the mirror.

He knows JJ is back there. At this time of day, he's probably napping or playing his violin. Anti could even be in there with him now. He can see him now, black eyes and a wicked smile twisting up Jameson's mouth. He'd bite his teeth at Marvin behind the bars of the cage or coo threats and dark promises. He'd leave Jamie bleeding and ill and laugh about it.

He can see Jameson helpless in the middle of everything. Months and months of Jameson's helplessness. Curled up around himself, silent and dead-eyed in the corner, begging for Marvin's attention, scared and crying, playing with his puppets and toys like a two-year-old, writing music for Marvin, praying devout rosaries on his mattress, sleeping the day away. Hollow eyes. A big smile and then nothing on his face. Eating noodles with his hands and looking over new llama-patterned socks like they're a gift from God. Nosebleeds and fevers and coughs, enough to shake his whole chest.

And on the other side of that mirror, on the other side of the helpless intruder and the mad spirit that wears his flesh like an outfit: Marvin's family.

Chase. Jackie. Henrik.

Yes. Yes. He did what he had to do.

For months it has tormented him. Now Jackie knows. Lies won't help. Even this one, this tempting lie being offered to him by his hopeful brothers – the lie that Anti made him do it. They're looking so gently at him, but it's just another web to tangle him up and choke him for months. In the end, it won't protect him.

He did what he had to do.

He will make them see that.

.

JJ sits in his box, chewing his nails down to the bit. He takes a hangnail between his teeth and pulls it til the blood runs down his thumb.

He doesn't know what's going on.

He decides to pick up his violin again, setting the bow down and trying to breathe in and out, in and out, in and out, steady. Marvin always makes him take three deep breaths when he was beginning to freak out. Marvin hates it when he freaks out. So he will be calm. He will breathe – one, two, three – and play his music.

He feels that he can hear Marvin in the movement of his improv. M-Brother. The only person other than Anti he's ever really known.

His voice started out stern and hot and distant. His eyes would flash and he would stand at a distance as though afraid of Jameson biting him. He stayed with him very little and never touched him.

Marvin became scared, later. Jameson remembers the first part of his illness, when he was so sick he could barely stand on his own, but the second half, when he stopped being coherent, is lost to him. The only thing he recalls is the frantic rise of Marvin's voice, thinner and louder as the days went on.

Scared Marvin. Screaming Marvin. Cold Marvin. Comforting Marvin.

Flashes and glimpses. He rarely stays more than an hour.

Jameson plays long, sweet notes across the violin.

My brother protects me. Because I'm dangerous. Because I'm bad. If I'm good, maybe someone will hold me for just a few minutes.

Long, sorrowful notes.

He realizes he has transitioned from improv to the tune he wrote for Marvin's birthday. He lets the long notes pull across the violin. He will play it til it's perfect, so that, when Marvin is finally ready to hear it, it will be so excellent he will have to like it.

He misses a note and re-starts. He draws a rest out too long and restarts. He plays it too lifelessly and restarts. Restart again, again, again, one, two, three. It must be perfect. For Marvin. For his brother. His brother who protects him, and the only person in the whole world whom JJ loves.

He cannot see or hear anything beyond the mirror realm, but a part of him hears when Marvin starts to cry.

.

“I locked Jameson up to keep you safe,” says Marvin. “That's all.”

Large eyes looking back at him. Chase and Henrik exchange looks again, passing thoughts between gazes. Jackie's just staring at him.

Marvin raises his chin and stares back.

The tears are running down his face, but he doesn't sob and he doesn't wheeze and he does not let his expression break.

He did what he had to.

“Keep us safe?” Chase repeats.

“It's not his fault,” says Marvin. “I know that. But Anti uses him as a weapon and there are few few things we can do about that. The two of them are connected – Anti can find him anywhere and Jameson has no defense against that kind of power. He's just a mortal kid. I've been looking for a way to protect him from Anti's interference, or at least stop Anti from being able to locate him, but it's complex magic. In the meantime, I had to keep him away from you. That day he stabbed you...”

Marvin's eyes flicker to Chase's chest. He remembers the dark wound in his shoulder and the ache in his brother's movements for weeks. The fear as the blood poured out and Jackie dragged the thrashing monster off Chase's body and choked him til he passed out.

“I couldn't let that happen again.”

They still don't say anything. A part of him screams at them to speak, begging for anything in reply, but the other half of him is desperate for the quiet. If they tell him how they feel it could break him in half.

“I didn't tell you,” he continues. “And I lied to you about it many times. I'm sorry. I don't know how to express to you how much it has hurt me over the time it's gone on. I know that doesn't make it right, but I want you to know I have always wanted to tell you. But I knew that if I did... you wouldn't agree.”

A faint, thin laugh from Chase. “This is a joke, yeah? Of course we wouldn't agree. How could you think that – ?”

“Because none of you have the guts to make this call,” replies Marvin before he can even finish, voice raising. “Don't you see? You all wanted him to just live here with us, hoping we'd be able to restrain him if Anti came! But that's not realistic. He would have fucking killed you! Jackie, you're too empathetic, Chase can't even kill a spider, and Henrik – ”

Henrik is staring at him, face unreadable. Marvin deflates, shaking his head.

“Henrik didn't deserve to have to make that call, even if he could. I'm older. I was the one with the means to hide him away. I – ”

“This is a lie,” Jackie interrupts him, sudden and loud. “This is a lie.”

Marvin says nothing. Meets his eyes and waits.

“Marvin?” asks Chase. “This isn't true, right?”

Chase – well, his eyes Marvin can't meet.

Chase looks to Henrik and Jackie, mouth open, bewildered.

“My little brother?” he asks in a small voice.

“Boys,” says Henrik, sighing. “Okay, deep breaths. Let's not get worked up. Of course it is not true. Anti is... he still has something over him. Marvin cannot speak freely. He is protecting us I would guess. Anti has made threats, perhaps cast spells or things like this. Forced Marvin to cast spells. Or he has a way to possess him. We must find Anti and deal with him before we can get anywhere.”

Henrik's voice is sure and cool, but Chase and Jackie don't respond to his call to action. Henrik turns firmly back to Marvin and cups his chin, stroking his thumb across his beard. “We will make this right, my brother,” he says. “I promise.”

“You said Anti didn't have Jameson, though,” says Chase, pushing forward. “Anti told you that, the last time you fought.”

“The second to last time we fought,” Jackie corrects. “Yes, he said that he didn't have Jameson. Then I saw him not a month ago. He didn't say anything about Marvin. But... right after that was when Marvin had that encounter with him.”

“Guys,” Marvin offers wearily. “It's not – ”

“Marvin wouldn't do this to our younger brother,” scoffs Henrik. “Locking him away! It's terrible.”

“I've taken care of him,” cries Marvin. “I have, he – ”

“Can I see him?” Chase's voice seems to be fainter with every sentence he speaks. “I never got to meet him, just Anti. We've talked about him for so long.”

“You – you used to help me go out looking for him.” Jackie whirls on Marvin again, eyes burning. “No, tell me this isn't true.”

“He would have killed you,” hisses Marvin, his eyes watering again.

“So that means you caged him like an animal?”

“Marvin can't have done this,” Henrik insists. “Marvin can't have.”

“I don't know what's going on,” says Chase, starting to cry. “Can I please see Jameson?”

“Maybe Jackie's the one possessed,” says Henrik, backing suddenly away from his oldest brother and putting a hand on Marvin's shoulder. “Maybe that's why Marvin is acting this way. Anti will blame him for what he's done to Jameson.”

“He's in a cage in there! When was the last time he's been out of there? How long has it been?”

Jackie's question seems to quiet everyone again. All eyes turn back to Marvin.

“How long what?”

“How long has it been since you let him out of there?” asks Jackie, voice dangerous again. Stance dangerous.

Jackie has never looked dangerous to Marvin before this moment.

Marvin breathes in through his nose, trying to find an answer. He wants to come clean – wants to show how justified he was – but it sounds so cruel when it's said out loud.

“He's been missing for seven months,” says Jackie, voice trembling. “If this is true, what you're saying, then he's been your prisoner for seven months. Right?”

“Yes,” says Marvin softly.

“Marvin. Has he been inside that box this whole time?”

Silence. Silence. Silence.

Jackie turns away from him, breathing thinning out. Chase is just shaking his head. Henrik's still at Marvin's side.

Jackie looks back to them, poised like he's about to pounce.

“Jackie,” warns Henrik, holding a hand out. “It's not true, it – ”

“Just let him out of the box,” whispers Jackie.

Marvin licks his mouth.

Draws a breath.

Shakes his head.

Jackie cocks his head at him, frowning. “What? What was that? Are you saying no?”

The disbelief in the air seems heavy on his shoulders.

Helpless Jameson. Snarling Anti.

Chase. Jackie. Henrik.

Chase. Jackie. Henrik.

Chase. Jackie. Henrik.

Had to.

Has to.

“Yes,” says Marvin. “I said no. Jameson is a threat to you. I won't let him out of the box.”.

Jackie has a grip on Marvin's shirt collar in a flash, shoving him down onto the bed. Henrik yelps and tries to pull him away again, and now Chase is sobbing openly somewhere in the background, and the cat starts to mewl again. Jackie's screaming. Jackie's screaming at him. Jackie's screaming everything Marvin was ever afraid that he would say.

“Like an animal, you locked him up like an animal! You knew I loved him and you took him away from me! You – you knocked me out that night! Fucking traitor! Marvin, Marvin! How could you do this to me?”

Marvin cries against the bed. Jackie slams him back, once, twice.

“Jackie,” Henrik wails, and honest to God Marvin has never heard him that scared.

“How could you do this to him?” Jackie screeches, squeezing his shirt til the buttons below pop. “He didn't deserve it. He was just a victim! You lied to me so many times! I wanted him, you knew how badly I needed him back! You let me think that Anti had him, and then that he was missing from everybody! Do you know how many sex trafficking rings I busted looking for him? How many times I spent my nights under bridges or in drug dens looking for him, trying to make sure everyone was safe?”

“Jackie,” sobs Marvin. “Love, you do all that anyway.”

“But I didn't use to wonder if it would be my baby brother when I found homeless men dead in the streets,” Jackie answers, and it's now that Marvin realizes he's sobbing too. “I didn't use to carry teenagers to the emergency room after they'd overdosed because they just got mixed up with the wrong people, people who should have looked after them, and then spend the rest of the week wondering if anybody would carry my baby brother like that if the same thing was happening to him. I didn't used to clean up trafficking victims and see every one of those bruises and cuts and markings and diseases on his skin too.”

Marvin's crying too hard to breathe. He takes hold of Jackie's sweatshirt and cries, shaking his head up at him.

“I love you,” he manages, choking and sobbing. “I love you, I love you.”

“I searched for him! Cried over him, nightmared about his little body washing up on the beach! That one night I had him, he looked up at me like I made the world spin, just because I showed him a few minutes of kindness. He had just finally in his life gotten some kindness. Why did he deserve this?”

“I love you,” Marvin chants, because what else can he say? Jameson never deserved it. He always knew that. It's just that his brothers also deserved better – deserved to be safe from Anti – and that was all that mattered.

That is still all that matters.

“Let him out of there,” wails Jackie. “Now, now, fucking traitor, let him out!”

But Marvin keeps shaking his head. No. No!

Jackie screams in frustration and draws his arm back. Marvin flinches and jerks his head away.

And in the middle of all the chaos and all the turmoil inside his chest, he thinks that that moment is clear as day to both of them, because they realize at the exact same time that Jackie almost hit him.

Marvin gapes up at him. Jackie still has his fist drawn back.

His big brother almost hit him.

Marvin lies there, breathing thick, wet breaths. Jackie holds that fist up, shocked.

Then his hand lowers, and for just one second, his fingers stroke down Marvin's cheek.

It's bizarre, later, that Marvin knows exactly what Jackie is seeing in that moment – his little brother. His only little brother, back before any of this. Bright green hair and a silly Game Grumps cape. A cat mask and a blue shirt. They go racing through the city causing trouble together and come home laughing like wild. They make Old Fashioneds and drink while they watch comedy specials on Netflix til the sun comes up. Marvin brings his first cat home and they both spoil her rotten, spending hours playing with her or just watching her run on her wheel, til their phones are both full with pictures of her. They cook together, setting the fire on kitchen more than once, and they catch bad guys like real life superheroes, cackling with triumph as they review their victories over sweet wine and take-out. When they get sick, they look after each other, even if they do make fun the whole time. Marvin runs away once and then comes home again, and Jackie squeezes him so tight it actually leaves a couple bruises on him, and Marvin allows himself, for the first time in his life, to be loved.

He promises Jackie he will never run away again when his hair is still bright green, and Jackie hugs him again, and the world is right there – the world is that place where their hands wrap around each other. The world is the syncing of their heartbeats and the vibration of Jackie murmuring his thousandth “I love you” into Marvin's ear, and Marvin giving his first one back.

There was nothing else that mattered.

A young man with green hair and a blue cape. His baby brother, smiling.

Marvin.

Jackie's fingers pull away. The spell breaks.

“Get out of my fucking house,” Jackie whispers, releasing him with shaking fingers.

Marvin shakes his head, letting out a long breath. “What?”

“I said get out,” says Jackie.

His voice is tight, and it trembles just a little, taut with stress, but he forces it calm.

“You've lost it,” says Marvin. “It's... Jackie, it's me. I'm not going anywhere.”

Jackie doesn't look at him anymore. He straightens up, wiping his hand down his face.

“Jackie,” Marvin repeats. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“If you stay here,” says Jackie, voice very low. “I'm going to lock you in the garage with a box of granola bars and a pile of stuffed animals. Then we'll see how 'justified' you were.”

Marvin stares, a faint laugh coughing its way up his throat. He looks to Chase and Henrik, but Henrik seems to have gone numb, just listing between the three of them with his hands held out like he's not sure what to do, and Chase is turned towards the door. His face is scrunched up and furious, and there are hot, swift tears running down his face.

Marvin's heart aches. “My little brother, amata,” he says. “Look, I'll make this right. Just tell Jackie – ”

“I,” says Chase, very clearly. “Am not your brother.”

Even Jackie winces a little. Henrik stares blankly at Chase, unable to register the words.

And Marvin –

Oh, he's been punched in the stomach. He can't get any air in.

“And I think you should get the fuck out,” spits Chase. “Cause I never want to see you again.”

He leans down, scoops up Queenie, and vanishes through the door of Marvin's room.

Marvin might honestly collapse. He's taken back to every time he's gotten so stressed over holding JJ captive that it made him sick, and suddenly, all of those moments seem like a cakewalk, and he knows that he could more easily have lived with the guilt and the crushing weight of what he did for a hundred years more rather than hear Chase say that to him even once.

It leaves him so hollow that he can't seem to think of anything else, and the pain of everything else fades too, like he's reached the max of some limit he didn't know he had and now he'll just be a confused zombie for the rest of his life. Before he knows what he's doing, he's packing a few of his things into a bag. Henrik is gone somewhere, he doesn't know. And Jackie is standing there like a prison guard, in silence.

Marvin's in the entryway of their house in what seems to be a half-second, staring at the mirror that will take him back to the realm of the world. He manages to regain just enough awareness to turn back to Jackie behind him, dizzy.

“Call me in a couple days,” he manages. “Let me know where we're at. I'll find someone to stay with for a little while. But once you talk to JJ and see that I've treated him well, that I loved him – and once you have time to think about why I did what I did – you'll understand.”

Jackie doesn't say anything. He's staring at the wall.

“Promise me,” Marvin chokes. “Promise me you'll call.”

“Fine,” says Jackie quietly.

Marvin turns to the mirror, and then looks back again.

Jackie walks away from him without another word.

Marvin steps through the mirror. He's taken the portal that's closest to Henrik's hospital without thinking, and now he's practically in the middle of the city, standing in an alleyway with a single bag over his shoulder and a crushing weight in his chest. The people are rushing by around him. Everything is loud and bright and bursting, but he can't seem to take any of it in.

“Marvin.”

Just... just this terrible combination of dissociation and debilitating pain.

“Marvin, Marvin.”

Hands cup his face. He blinks and looks up.

Henrik. His Henrik. He followed him through the mirror.

“It's okay, I'll go with you,” promises Henrik, pressing their heads together, a bag of his own packed up on his back. “We'll figure this out. I know it wasn't you, Marvin. I know you wouldn't really do that. We're going to be okay, my poor brother. Here I am, Marvin. Here I am.”

Marvin collapses into his arms and weeps.

Promise

Part 25 of My Brother's Keeper

(Part 1 l Previous l Next)

“It hurts,” groans Henrik, writhing on his bed. “It hurts.”

Chase clings to his hands, stopping him from clawing at his face. “I know,” he whispers, exhausted. “I'm sorry, man.”

“It hurts, it hurts, it hurts too much, master, stop, master, I'm sorry.”

“It's me, it's Chase.”

“I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to!”

“You didn't do anything wrong.”

“Hurts, hurts, hurts.”

“I know,” he whispers, exhausted. “I'm sorry, man.”

A sudden change flashes through Henrik's face. He creeps forward on the bed, baring his teeth.

“So much fucking flesh on you,” he hisses, his accent dissipating and his pitching rising and falling in spasms. “I hate your scarlessness. I want to trace the outlines of your bone into every centimeter of your skin.”

Chase watches him, dead-eyed, from the other side of the room. Henrik rocks himself, clutching his shoulders, turned away from him.

“Stupid fucking boy,” hisses Henrik, his voice rising and falling strangely, like there's a voice changer switching channels in his throat. “Stupid fucking drunkard. Abandoned little dog, don't you want a new master?”

“You're not Anti,” says Chase, softly, a plate of pasta growing cold on the bedside drawer next to him. “Come get something to eat, Schneep. Henrik. Schneeplestein.”

“Stupid boy!” screams Henrik, tearing at his hair. “Your master won't wake up until I am underneath his skin!”

Chase gets slowly to his feet and rounds the bed. Gentle, he pulls Henrik's hands from his hair, eliciting a low groan of agony. “You're not Anti,” he repeats, holding up a forkful of pasta. “Open up.”

“I want Jack, I want Jack, I want to taste every cell of his fucking blood!”

“How about mac and cheese first?” suggests Chase dryly, pressing the fork to his mouth, until at last, Henrik opens up, growling, and eats.

“Stupid fucking boy...”

“You're not Anti.”

Level, steady. Stay with him, take care of him. He stabs another forkful of macaroni. I owe him this and more. “You're not Anti, Schneep. Henrik. Brother. Eat.”

Henrik's eyes burn with hatred as they look up at him. Chase ignores it steadfastly, pressing the bite towards his mouth, and as Henrik eats, some of the rage drains from his grey face.

“Ch-chase?” he chokes around macaroni.

“Shhh. I'm here.”

“I d-don't feel good. What's happening to me?”

“You're a little sick, man. Just eat, okay? I'm going to take care of you.”

“You're going to take care of me?”

“Me and JJ.”

Chase turns to smile at his little brother, watching from the corner. “We're going to take care of you. Right, Jamie?”

Jameson meets his eyes resolutely, trying to straighten up, because even if Henrik sometimes scares him like this, he is determined.

He loves him.

Yes.

They manage to get Henrik to sleep that night, after Stacy and the kids have left. Chase looks up at JJ, his hand settled in Henrik's hair, watching over him.

“It's going to be a long couple of weeks,” Chase warns, looking exhausted already. “He'll be a lot to handle.”

“That's okay,” says JJ. “I'm here.”

He is.

He will stay.

Marvin made him promise.

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

Chase sets up a sleeping bag for JJ that night – he refuses to be parted from Henrik's side, and Chase plans to sleep beside Henrik in the bed in case he becomes violent – and he goes to check on Jackie, wondering if he's still conked out on flu medicine. He isn't. He looks up when Chase enters his room, sitting on the end of his bed.

“Jackie,” says Chase softly. “Are you okay?”

Jackie glances back at him, shaking his head minutely. Chase moves to his side and hugs him tightly.

“Jameson,” croaks Jackie.

“He's fine. He's downstairs. Just got overwhelmed, I think.”

“Schneep?”

Chase pauses, rubbing Jackie's back, but he knows his brother won't let up until he knows.

“It's the possession withdrawal again,” he says.

Jackie's expression shatters. He leans his head against Chase's chest, hiding his face.

“It's going to be okay, man,” whispers Chase.

“Nothing is ever going to be okay again,” croaks Jackie. “Marvin is gone.”

Chase has to cover his mouth to keep from sobbing, his eyes sliding shut. Fuck. Fuck.

“I want my little brother,” cries Jackie, clinging to his shirt.

“I know, Jackie,” sobs Chase, because he doesn't know what to say. “I want him too.”

On God, he would give up most everything in the world to have Marvin here with him now. He can feel the memory of his brother's hand on his shoulder, keeping him steady.

He gets Jackie water and macaroni and makes him eat it. Jackie will not stop crying and Chase does not blame him. He understands. Jackie tries more than once to insist that he will get his own food, get his own water, he will watch Henrik tonight, he will let Chase be the one grieving, he will do this and this and this. But his fever is strong enough that Jackie can't follow through on much of anything. Maybe, in that sense, the fever is a small blessing. Chase pushes him back into bed and gathers up his dishes.

“Chaser, don't go,” begs Jackie.

“Oh, Jacks,” sighs Chase. “Man, I gotta stay with Henrik so he doesn't hurt himself.”

“Oh,” says Jackie in a small voice. “Yes. Of course.”

“You could come sleep in his room with the rest of us, though,” offers Chase, brushing sweaty hair from Jackie's forehead. “I'll get the other sleeping bag, okay?”

“No,” answers Jackie dully. “Jameson doesn't want me around.”

Chase sighs again and sits back down on the edge of Jackie's bed.

“Jackie,” he says softly. “JJ's just scared and overwhelmed, and Anti told him a lot of bad shit about you. I know he's breakin' your heart, man... just don't give up on him, okay?”

Jackie stares up at him, his eyes red.

“Hey,” says Chase, clucking his chin. “Promise me, okay?”

Jackie looks away, sniffling. “Okay, Chase. I guess.”

“How about the cats, yeah? I can bring the cats to you.”

“Yes,” says Jackie, rubbing at his face. “Yes, please. The cats.”

Chase puts the dishes away and finds Athanasius and Queenie, carrying them up to Jackie's room. By the time he has deposited them in Jackie's bed, his brother is already asleep.

headcannons for darkpuppet

Oh, my boys! Oh, my new comfort ship!

-JJ will drag Dark away from paperwork to cuddle. 

- They’ll go into the library and pick a book to read together. 

- JJ will help Dark with paperwork if it gets to be too much. 

- I often use Anti as the bad guy while writing this ship because it really gives it a purpose. Dark saw JJ tied to the ceiling with puppet strings. He was a broken moustached man. So Dark saved him. Something he couldn’t do for someone else before.

- JJ followed Dark around for the first week trying to be helpful. Dark got upset and yelled at him. 

- He went and apologized to JJ after nearly all the Iplier egos yelled at him too. 

- Dark slowly fell in love with JJ when he spent time with the other ego. 

- JJ fell in love with Dark the moment he woke up in Darks arms as he walked him to the doctors. 

- Dark will get anything for JJ. JJ doesn’t want much but cuddles and love and the occasional chocolate. 

- JJ made quick friends with the Iplier egos. 

They will cuddle whenever they can. 

- Dark has a reputation and needs to uphold it but if JJ walks into a meeting asking him where he put his book Dark will drop everything to get it himself. 

- Dark often has problems with his back to the point of now being able to move in the morning. JJ gets him tea and whatever he wants.

- JJ sometimes helps Dark spy on people. 

- They would get married in a small reception with the Iplier egos. 

- JJ loves Dark Chica. Dark thought he would be scared of her but JJ loves her. 

- They go for walks in the woods that surround the mansion. 

- JJ isn’t allowed out of the house without Dark or Wilford because Anti might hurt him. 

- Wilford and JJ are friends and like to talk about the past and dealing with Dark. 

- Dark refuses to talk about the past but sometimes he slips up and mentions a memory. JJ tries not to get him to talk more about it. 

- The Iplier egos have found Dark doing paperwork in his office with JJ asleep on his lap. 

- They have a smilier grey tone/aura. Dark’s is more powerful and controlling. JJ’s aura makes people relaxed. 

- Dark only really knows how to flirt like in the movies. With a flower and chocolates. He gets flustered though and JJ finds it adorable. 

Phantoms

Fantasy Masks AU: Chapter Two

A JSE Fanfic

Oh wow, second chapter already? :O Yeah I was really excited to keep writing this. Fantasy is my element; I’ve returned home. After wandering out into the woods for so long, Chase wakes up in an unfamiliar location. Where is he? Who are these strange masked people who have found him? And what happened back in his village? Answers will follow, as we meet new people…including a couple boys that us readers will know :D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Chase woke up slowly, over the course of what had to be a few minutes. First, he was aware of weight, something pressing down on him. It was warm. And that felt really, really good. Because there was a coldness in his core that he couldn’t quite shake, sending chills across his skin. After the weight, sound came trickling in. There wasn’t much of it. Just some strange scratching sounds, and occasionally footsteps, which echoed. It was only after registering the echo that thoughts started to form. Where…where was he? How’d he get here? Last he remembered, he was…in the forest? It was dark. Was it nighttime? Chase found it hard to recall.

He finally opened his eyes. It was difficult; they felt weighed down. But he did it. And once his eyes were open, he saw…stone. Rough, natural stone, not stone bricks. The light was strong, but flickering. And completely unfamiliar.

Turning his head to the side was an effort, but he managed. He was on a bed, he recognized that much. With a few layers of blankets, including one made of fur on top. Again, completely unfamiliar. As was the rough stone room he found himself in. Some sort of cave…? But then why was there a bed in a cave? No, scratch that. There was a whole row of beds, he could see them extending to the side, along with a couple rickety wooden chairs. And, currently sitting down in one of those chairs, was a woman with a bird face.

“Wh…?” Chase tried to sit up, but the blankets were too heavy, and his body felt weak, so he gave up easily.

Weiterlesen

☠with JJ as the one dying and maybe one or two of the other egos there as he goes? Idk I just love ur writing fam

(Oof, alright y’all the prompt, as you may have guessed, is character death, so be warned this is a sad one. Gonna put it under a “Keep Reading” so no-one accidentally reads it and gets sad when they didn’t want to do that. Also, thank you!)

———————————————————————————————————–

Jameson wheezed, staring up at the night sky, the stars twinkling brighter than he’d ever seen them. They were putting on a show, just for him, a dazzling display to ease the pain of what was happening.

He’d gotten away. He’d gotten away, and then he hadn’t. 

And then a bullet ripped through his chest.

He wasn’t sure how he was still alive, really. It hadn’t gone all the way through, so maybe that had something to do with it. He was too tired to really think about it.

He heard something thud on the ground next to him. His vision was fading, going black around the edges, but he could see enough to see the tear-streaked faces of Marvin and Jackie as they quickly knelt down over him. Marvin held his hands out, magic swirling around them, speaking healing spells and pleading with the universe to let his magic be strong enough.

“JJ, can you hear us?” Jackie said, his voice so distant and hard to grasp. “Come on, man, please, say you can hear us!” His frantic words were cut up with sobs. He took off his mask and wiped away the steadily flowing tears. 

Jameson managed a weak nod.

“Thank god. You’re gonna be okay, okay? Marvin’s healing you up and I’ll get you back to Schneep and-”

Jameson shook his head, or at least made an attempts at shaking it. He couldn’t really get his body to move much anymore.

“What? No, you’re going to be fine.” Jackie looked over at Marvin. “He’s going to be fine, tell him!”

“J-Jackie,” Marvin sobbed, his magic still focused on trying to heal, “He-he lost too much blood already.” His tears shimmered as they fell down his face, his eyes sparkling the same way as he tried to will his magic to become a miracle.

“No…” 

One of Jackie’s tears landed on Jameson’s face. 

Jameson tried to grab Jackie’s hand, but all he could muster was a slight twitch. It caught Jackie’s attention tough, and the hero gently lifted Jameson to put his little brother’s head in his lap. The corners of the youngest ego’s mouth twitched up, trying to smile. He felt comfortable. Safe.

Loved.

There were worse ways to go.

Jackie tried to find something profound to say, something that would make Jameson feel better as he left, but he couldn’t. He just held Jameson tight, held him close, and muttered again and again about how much he loved him. 

Marvin changed his spell to one of comfort. Jameson smelled homecooked meals made by his brothers, felt his favorite fuzzy blanket as though it was really wrapped around him, felt the endless love of his whole family warm his chest as his heartbeat got weaker and weaker.

He managed to lift his arm and put it over his heart. He flickered his eyes between his brother, though he could barely see them anymore. 

“We love you too JJ. We love you so much,” Marvin choked out.

Jameson’s mouth twitched again.

And then his eyes went still.

And he went limp in Jackie’s arms.