....he’s Trapped...

Is that a light? Oh, I can barely see anymore, but it seems to me that the darkness has actually receded. Perhaps something shifted, and it’s day, out there. Perhaps it’s sunlight. That would be nice.

The bugs don’t bother me anymore, which is good news, I suppose. Bad news for my nerves, as even though I can’t feel the bugs anymore, I can’t feel anything else either. But I suppose that’s fine. I’m more comfortable now.

It was worse the first day. The pain from the fall, the broken limbs, the raw throat from screaming. It was unbearable down here, in the dark, and the heat, with the fear. That’s another thing. The fear, the constant, aching fear of the dark and the bugs, and the overarching fear of not being found in time...it’s gone. And I can almost be happy here, in my last moments, I suppose. Once the pain stopped, and the fear, I looked around, for once. The rock is gorgeous, down here, so textured and streaked through with lovely greys and blacks and the occasional reddish brown, if you squinted through the shadow enough. The birds singing overhead were nice while I could hear them, a constant melody from early morning to late evening, sunrise to sunset concerts that I’m glad I was here to appreciate. I can see why the ancient ancestors of humanity wrote endless volumes of poetry dedicated to the beauty of the natural world. It’s very hard for us to slow down long enough to appreciate it. I suppose I’ve slowed to a stop, now. Or...I will, soon enough.

You will, too, soon. I know all of this sounds impossible to you now. Or would, if you could hear me over that silly screaming. Even with my own hearing fading, you’re still awfully loud, friend. I do wish you’d stop and listen. I don’t suppose I thanked you for coming to look for me, yet, did I? Thank you. I would’ve thought that four days after they’d just be looking for a body, wouldn’t they? Glad you wanted to find me alive. Sorry you did. I think they’ll find you, though. If something’s shifted, and that light is sunlight, someone will see you, won’t they? That’s nice.

Oh...it’s flickering. That’s a bit strange for sunlight to do. Flicker, on and off...on and off...and now it’s just...off? Reminds me of a flashlight, flickering like that...flicker, flicker, flicker...and when it flickers off, doesn’t it seem darker? Hahaha...wouldn’t that be just funny? If...if instead of shifting to get more light, something shifted and now we’re even more hidden. Wouldn’t that be just hilarious? Hahaha. That’d mean you won’t ever be found, wouldn’t it? Hahaha. Funny...very, very funny...

((Prompt from the writing.prompts instagram.))

So @fear-is-nameless made this post, wondering about the whisper after Anti says “weak.”

I did a little fooling around on Audacity. The first part of this clip is the audio from that post. The next part, I isolated the whisper and slowed it down to .75x speed. The last part, I isolated the vocals from that.

Doesn’t it almost sound like “until he’s there”?

Do You Trust Me? Pt. 4

A/N: Here we are! Second to last part!

Link to Pt. 3: http://skinnyscottishblokeaddict.tumblr.com/post/155699231442/do-you-trust-me-pt-3

Link to Pt. 2: http://skinnyscottishblokeaddict.tumblr.com/post/155686403892/do-you-trust-me-pt-2

Link to Pt. 1: http://skinnyscottishblokeaddict.tumblr.com/post/155650933267/pizsospa-cmon-little-dude-you-can-trust-me

Mark finished waving and took off his headphones as he stood and turned. "Jack! What's up, dude? You didn't tell me you were coming over today." "Howya, Mark? I haven't seen you in ages," Jack said, walking over and giving him a quick half-hug. "Oh, fine, fine, lots of Subnautica recently, it's driving me nuts," he laughed, turning to smile at you. "Who's your friend?" You managed to stutter out a "hello". Mark raised an eyebrow at Jack. Jack put his hands in his pockets. "They're actually the reason I'm here." His smile faded and he sighed. "He's stronger than we thought. And he almost got out, so...I pulled them in here." Mark's smile dropped immediately. "Oh...Oh, so you're...?" He turned to look at you, and you nodded awkwardly. "Uh, from...'out there'. Yeah."

Everyone was silent for a moment before you added, stupidly, "I love your videos." Mark shook himself a bit and smiled again. "Well. It's nice to meet a fan, doesn't happen very often." He glanced over at Jack, still addressing you. "Did he explain about Personas?" "Yeah. I did. Let's not start that again." Jack put an arm around you. "Can you help me get them home safely?" "Well," Mark considered, going over to his computer and starting to look for something, "I mean,  I've done it before. I don't see why not." "What happened before?" You asked, walking up behind Mark to see what he was doing. There was a lot of code on the screen, much like outside. Mark seemed to be looking for a specific line of it. Mark and Jack seemed to shift awkwardly. "Well...you weren't the first target of a Hyde Glitch." "Hyde Glitch?" "It's what we're calling Anti and all them," Jack explained. "Like Jekyll and Hyde. They're...broken versions, of us. Bugs in the system." "There's more of them?" "Lots more." Mark didn't look back at you, but he frowned. "One for almost everyone." "Oh..." You thought back to all the drawings and edits you'd seen on tumblr. "Oh. So...there's Anti, and there's-" "Dark. Yeah. He exists." Mark nodded solemnly. "But he's not as strong as Anti. Glitches like Dark, and Natemare, MadPat, Virus Cry, all of them...they're weak because they've not got a single form." "Sean's a good guy, and October was fun, but..." Jack crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head slightly. "Well, putting Anti on the channel, pulling him into the limelight..." "We knew it was gonna be dangerous." "Because he exists online..." The realization was hitting you like a ton of bricks. Jack nodded. "Sean doesn't know about this. So he didn't think he was doing anything wrong. But the more Anti actually appeared in videos, the more he got a voice-" "The stronger he got here," you finished for him, leaning back against the foam padding on the wall. "This is our fault. We egged him on. I...I wrote stories, I've got friends that made art..." "It's not your fault." Mark seemed to have found what he was looking for, and turned to smile at you reassuringly. "You didn't know about this place either. You didn't think any of it was real." "But it is, and..." you looked over at Jack, "A-and you got hurt because of it. He-he slit your throat, but how-?" "The vlog that went up after," Jack interrupted, seeing how upset you were, "It cancelled out 'Say Goodbye'." He didn't say it, but you could guess that that didn't mean it hadn't hurt. It felt like your stomach was falling into your shoes. Mark coughed, and you and Jack gathered by the computer. "Alright," he said, pointing at some white text, "so, when Ethan was here-" "Ethan came here? Like, my world Ethan?" Mark nodded. "Yeah. When he first came out to LA, he was watching one of my videos, making sure his edits were good. He heard me say something to him after the outro. And then...I mean, I assume it was basically the same thing you did. Dark started trying to get at him, I pulled Ethan in." You shook your head. You could practically picture it, Ethan confused as hell, staring at Mark in shock. "But you got him home alright. I mean, he's putting out videos now. And Dark's not out there, so...How'd you do it?" "Well, like I said, Dark isn't as strong as Anti, so it was just a matter of putting him behind a firewall. After than, we...well, I spent hours trying to figure it out, digging through code and trying to find out if it'd happened before. Ethan was a little shocked, so...but he wouldn't have known what to do either. Eventually, I found this," he tapped the white text again. "Ethan's access code. It's what let him get in." "We still don't know why he could," Jack added, "We don't know why he's the only one, until now, that could hear us. Maybe it's something to do with you guys on that end, some power you have." "But how does that help me get out?" "Well," Mark pulled open a drawer and pulled out a flashdrive, plugging it in. He tapped a few keys and a loading box popped up. "I found his code by accident. Noticed it was different, pulled it up. And my camera was still plugged into my computer, and when it popped up, a box came up with the option to 'return message to original sender?'. Ethan was the one who figured it out. He was the message, and the sender. So, we figured, what's the worst that could happen? I'm pretty good at recovering lost data..." Jack shifted and you glanced at him. Mark continued, eyeing Jack. "Um, so we figured, what was there to lose? I hit send, and then...flash, bang, he was home." "And that was it?" "And that was it." "So I could go home right now?" "Well, no," Mark rubbed his neck awkwardly. "You've gotta go from your home port. Meaning..." "Meaning we walked all this way to be told we have to go back to Jack's place," you said, scrubbing a hand across your face. "We traveled all this way to have someone who's a hell of a lot better at code than I am get the right code," Jack corrected, then, shuffling his feet awkwardly, "And...I wanted to give you a chance to meet him. I figured...You probably like his stuff too, and it'd be nice..." You smiled slightly at him. "Thanks, Jack." "It's my fault Anti got to us, though." Mark's voice was suddenly sharp. "Anti followed you?" "We ran into him halfway here, but...I think I slowed him down," you said. Mark blinked, confused. "How?" "I don't know, I just...pushed him. And he turned a little red." Mark shot a glance at Jack, who shrugged. "Well that's...interesting. You, uh, seem to be able to manipulate code. Which I suppose is good." You could see why that would make him uncomfortable, so you stood away from the wall again and made your way toward the door. Jack took the hint. "Well, we should be going." Mark nodded, pulling the flashdrive, which'd just finished downloading the code, out and handing it to you. "Be careful out there." "You too," you said. Mark smiled. "All things considered, it was nice to meet you." You returned it. "It's good to meet you too, Mark. I've watched you for such a long time." You laughed a little. "This feels surreal." Mark opened his arms and raised his eyebrows, and you took the invitation and hugged him tightly, muttering a thank you. "It's my absolute pleasure," he chuckled, hugging you tightly before patting your back. "Now go on. Have a safe trip-" The lights dimmed. Everyone froze. "We should go. Now." Jack grabbed your arm. Mark let go of you quickly and went to open the door. It wouldn't open. And then there was giggling.

"This way!" Mark dove toward a door on the other side of the room, you and Jack hot on his heels as the lights flickered and his computer screen began to glitch, dark green code starting to scroll by. He shoved the door open and you ran into his VR recording room. He shut the door behind you and ran up to the headsets. "Lucky I've got two of these," he said, tossing you the Vive and giving the Oculous to Jack. "Put 'em on." "What?" Something pounded on the door. Mark shot a glance at it, then ran over to the computer in this room and started typing furiously. "Mark, we can't just leave you with him," Jack said angrily. "Just put on the damn headsets, I'll be fine." "A firewall won't stop him." "But it'll slow him down." Mark waved him off. But you were still lost. "Wait, how is this supposed to-?" "Virtual Reality," Mark said, stepping back toward the door and, to your surprise, pushing aside a panel on the wall to reveal its coding. He started pulling and moving it like Jack had back on the mountain. "In your world, it's only a metaphorical escape. But here, everything's virtual, so..." "So it'll really get us out of here." You grinned. "That's brilliant." You nodded to Jack and the two of you got ready to put the headsets on. "He should follow us," Jack said, and Mark nodded again. "I can keep him out until then. I'll be alright." "Thank you, Mark." He gave you a short wave over his shoulder before going back to keeping Anti out. "See you in the comments." "See you there." There was a scream of frustration from the next room, and you and Jack put the headsets on.

Suddenly, you were back at the base of the mountain, back on Jack's side. You could almost see his ravine from there. "We haven't got a lot of time. C'mon." Jack led the way, and the two of you ran. You made it about half way before the dark green text was everywhere, forcing you to skid to a stop. "No, no, no," Jack muttered, "He's boxing us in." And the giggling started up again. You watched in horror as Anti pulled himself out of the ground again. He looked even glitchier than before, the only solid thing about him his face, grinning disturbingly. The rest was switching alarmingly quickly between green code and sickly green skin. It looked like he couldn't keep a solid form. "YOU!" His voice was high and sharp, layered as if there were four of him speaking at once, tone shifting all over the place. "You're mine!" "Get bent, Anti," Jack growled, and he turned to you. "Get around him. Go. I'll keep him here." Before you could protest, he dove toward Anti, knocking him flat on the ground and shouting in pain as he started to glitch out as well. You were frozen to the spot, couldn't do anything but watch as they struggled. Jack had Anti pinned for a moment, but then his legs were swept out from under him and Anti was on top, holding him down with one arm and using the other fist to swing at his face. You screamed as it crunched against his cheek and Jack let out a yell that was half pain and half defiance. He face was glitching where he'd been hit, going between code and bruising. But he took advantage of Anti reering back for another hit to shove him away, so hard that he slammed into the wall of the mountain base, hissing angrily. You ran toward Jack. "No! No, you've got to go!" Jack stood, swaying slightly, and shoved you back toward the ravine. "I won't leave you here!" "I'll be okay!" "You're lying!" Jack grunted in annoyance and shoved you again. "So what if I am? Don't you want to go home? Please, just-" Anti cackled, making you and Jack whip around to look at him, just in time for him to dive toward Jack, who pushed you roughly backward. "Idiot, IDIOT!" Anti crowed. And he seemed to dissolve, nothing but code, and Jack struggled as it started to seep into his skin. He screamed in pain, just managing to keep standing. "GO! JUST GO! RUN!" You couldn't if you'd wanted to. But you couldn't move to help him either. He screamed again, clutching at his head, doubling over on his knees, his whole body glitching out. "No...NO!" And he collapsed. "JACK!" You ran toward him, all fear and panic, all thought for your own safety gone. You just needed to know he was okay. Your knees thudded sharply against the ground and you cupped his face with your hands. "Jack, please. Please wake up. Please. You can't leave me. You can't leave them. They need you, Jackaboy, c'mon." He grunted weakly and you let out a short sob. "Knew you could...do...it..." He was laughing. And when his eyes opened, they were black.

alternatively: Dark, rocking up in an open button up that’s half tucked into rumpled suit pants and sitting on top of a very stained undershirt.

Wil: You look like death!

Dark: *looks into the camera like he’s on The Office*

As much as I like the idea of dark wanting to be constantly neat and fancy, I also adore the idea that after the shit he’s been through he just can’t give a fuck and wears and does whatever the hell he wants.

Not normally an edits kind of gal, but I can do a decent old time photo, and I loved the video, so why not?

Wandering (A Robbie the Zombie drabble). Feat. Post-Apocalypse Robin!

A/N: I’ve never written Robbie in his own story before, but he’s a sweetheart and I thought I’d give it a try, and also try to explain his name, maybe. Enjoy!

He doesn't know how he died. All he knows is that one day, he woke up, and he was staring at the open blue sky. He sat up, looked around at the lonely street he was on, stood slowly, and wandered off. That's what he does best; he wanders. He's not much for deep thought, and trying to plan out where you're going, trying to find things or do things that take a long time, they take too much of his energy. But wandering? It lets him enjoy the quiet. Sunshine in a forest. An empty highway at night. A beach in the off season. Well, he supposed every season was the off season now.

He doesn't remember who he was before he died. Doesn't even know if he had a name, not that there's anyone to call him by it anyway. He supposes he was young; the glances he's gotten of his reflection make him think twenties, but he could've been in his thirties. A little bit of facial hair is eternally stuck at the same length on his face, a short scruffy beard and mustache, and two bushy eyebrows that've all turned an ashy brown with death. Pale, grey skin sits tight over a smaller, fairly slim frame. Grey eyes stare at the grey-scale world through a thin white film (it doesn't affect his vision that much). A striped white and black shirt and black jeans cover him with relative modesty, though they’re ripped and dirtied with who knew what. No shoes. It’s not too bad, but he is easily pleased. Something he very much likes about the way he looks, however, is that he's got a mop of unruly, electric purple hair on the top of his head. It's the only bit of bright color in his appearance, and he feels like maybe Living-him would've liked that. He sometimes wonders who Living-him was. What did he do for a living? He isn't particularly muscular, or big, so nothing sporty or physical. His clothes are very casual. Had he worked from home? Been off-duty when he died? He doesn't know.

He discovers he's in Brighton, and that he can read still (though not very quickly), when he finds a yellowing newspaper on a bench by the pebbly beach. An old copy of the local news, warning about the deadly outbreak of something, and somewhere testing nuclear weapons, and other sad things. He puts it down again and walks away. He's glad he remembers where Brighton is, and that he has a vague impression of what the city would've looked like way back then: a woman's laugh and the pressure of her hand in his, the sound of cars driving by on his quiet street. He wonders if Living-him had lived here all his life, or if he'd come from somewhere far away. He turns slowly toward the sound of something moving, which wasn't his imagination.

A man is staring at him, standing, frozen, on the other side of the street. He is fairly tall, with short brown hair and wide-open eyes, the blue of which are overwhelmed by the black of his pupils. He has a gun slung over his shoulder, and seems to be considering reaching for it. Surely he's not afraid of him? One dead man against a living man isn't much of a match; guns have quite a reach, and rigor mortis tends to slow down your running speed significantly. He doesn’t see any other option for it. Might as well be polite. He waves. The man frowns, confused. Stares at him for a few moments longer.

Waves back.

He smiles, glad that his gesture has been returned, and turns to move on down an alley. "Wait!" He raises his eyebrows and turns back to look at the man, who is now crossing the street toward him cautiously. He stops a few feet away and considers him. "Can...can you understand me?" It amuses him that he remembers enough to know that this is not an English accent, but is disappointed that he can't remember what accent exactly that it is. "You don't have to talk," the man continues as he receives no response from the purple-haired stranger, "you can just...y'know, nod, or shake your head?" He thinks for a moment, then nods. The man smiles. "Really? Cool." They watch each other for a moment. "Do you have a name?" He shrugs, slowly. "Okay," the man nods, folding his arms with a smirk. "Well. You don't look like you're in a big rush to kill me, which is nice." He extends a hand. "I'm Robin." He stares at Robin's hand. "You're...supposed to shake it?" Oh. He shakes Robin's hand, and is surprised that he doesn't flinch away from the cold of his skin or the unnatural stiffness of his movements. He does note that Robin's easy-going smile quirks slightly at the contact. Their hands drop back to their sides, and he decides to try something new.

"R...R..." His voice is rusty and crackly from disuse, but apparently still functional, much to both of their surprise. Robin huffs out a laugh. "You can talk! Why didn't you tell me?" He frowns slightly and tilts his head. "I'm kidding, man, relax," Robin grins. "Were you trying to say my name?" "R..Ro...b..." He nods as he tries again. Robin puts a hand over his heart as if he's touched by the gesture, then chuckles again as he starts to walk. "You wanna come with me? I've never met a zom' that  can talk to me. Let's see if we can't get your voice to work." "Y...eah." Robin looks so proud of his first proper word that he can't help but smile back, the muscles in his face tight with the movement. "C'mon then, uh..." He falters slightly, and the purple-haired man shrugs. "Well...pick a new name then. I have to call you something." "Ro...b...?" "You want me to pick?" "Mm...hm..." "Hm..." He thinks for a minute, then smirks. "Well, the only thing you seem to be able to pronounce is the first half of my name. So let's call you Robbie!" "R...Ro...b...bie.." "See, you're getting better already!" Robin moves off down the street, still laughing and swinging his arms at his sides. Robbie (he likes the ring of it) stumbles after him, listening to him ramble. It's a nice change from the usual silence.

So what I’m thinking is that this one was written by Asshole Mark.

Love... 

What a simple thing [This is sarcasm, obviously, as suggested by the rest of the poem, hinting at the bitterness reflected in the ending.]

The sweetest poison A blood-stained ring [The “sweetest poison” because love has only ever hurt this person and yet they pursue it. The “blood-stained ring” could mean a wedding ring, talking about a ruined marriage, the blood meaning injury or death related to the relationship.]   A tender kiss  A bitter sting  [The contrast between these two lead me to believe it’s referencing the same person, the SO of the speaker, and it’s referencing a betrayal, the “sting” being something this person has done to hurt the speaker.]

Eternal bliss A lonely king [”Eternal bliss” in a perfect relationship on the outside, but it’s meaningless now because they know what the SO did, they’ve been hurt, and so even if they’re still together in appearance, they are alone.] 

How much of this is even real? [This expands on the last part, the appearance of a happy marriage that is faked to some degree.]

This pain This love This somber wheel [They seem to be going through a cycle of trying to forgive them, and being hurt again. What the SO did is a recurring thing.] 

An endless turn of snake and tail An endless storm, malignant gale  [The speaker feels trapped by the relationship, hurt over and over again as if it’ll never end.]

Yet here I sit upon my throne My only truth... I am alone [They feel isolated from everyone else, in a position of wealth and power but with the only thing that really matters to them taken away, and so are becoming bitter.]

So in conclusion, this is from Asshole Mark’s perspective, when he was still married to Celine, growing more and more bitter, possibly before he made his ill-fated plan.

uuUHHHH

Watching some classic fandom blog names come out of the woodworks when the flames crank up again is like watching vampires waking up after hibernating for centuries.

okay but Dark and Will reacting to Tyler in our universe???

“OH MY FUCK IT’S THE BUTLER”

“Uh...no. I’m actually Mark’s manager. Rude.”

Years after WKM, Benjamin comes across Dark and Wilford while they are out and about

AND THEY JUST PASS EACH OTHER LIKE TOTAL STRANGERS HFJSAFHDJ

Deal. (A JSE Ego Drabble)

(A/N: I have zero idea what the actual plot is here, I just wanted to write something dramatic with all of the Septiceye gang. So enjoy some horror nonesense!)

"Hell is empty, and all the devils are here!" -William Shakespeare, The Tempest

It was far too quiet. Chase was as white as a sheet. He'd been against the idea from the start, the only one among them other than Jack who had a family to get back to, and he didn't want to do anything else to put them at risk. He wrung his hands around his Nerf gun, staring at the door into the recording room from his slumped spot on the floor across the hall. A few yards from him, sitting at the top of the stairs, holding one knee and dangling the other over the top steps, was Jackieboy Man. Jackie was uncomfortable, fidgeting with Sam, throwing them into the air and catching them again. Luckily the eye didn't seem to oppose this. Schneep was pacing, muttering under his breath and checking his supplies every few seconds. No one had to ask why he was so nervous. Dapper and Shawn were leaning against the sides of the door, acting as guards, potentially. Dapper seemed to be the only one not uncomfortable with the reletive silence, but even he was showing signs of distress, mustache twitching every few seconds.

"How long've they been in there?" Schneep shrugged, but it was Jackie who answered. "About twenty minutes." "How much longer does he need?" "He told us he'd knock when he was ready." "Well, what if he's-?!" "Don't, Chase." Schneep's voice was unusually devoid of bravado. "I do not need to hear zat idea. I do not need to hear zat right now." Chase glared at him. "Well someone needs to think about this. If Jack can't do it-" "Chase-" "I'm not gonna back down from this! I've got kids to worry about! If that thing gets lose, if it comes after them like it came after you, I'm not havin' it! I'll kill 'im!" "But...but Chase, you can't..." Jackie trailed off, knowing full well Chase meant what he said, and that he had every right to. Dapper reached over and patted Chase's shoulder, but he jerked away from the touch, making Dap sigh as he stood back up, pulling his pocketwatch out and frowning at it, thinking what all of them were thinking. If it came to that, there was no chance for Robbie, anyway.

Jack hadn't liked the idea, either, and if he was being honest with himself, it scared the hell out of him. But he didn't see any other option. If it was him, he couldn't talk to him, he'd have no control. And Rob had volunteered, as awkwardly and as long as it had taken. "If...me, you c'n...talk. Make him...under...stand." "But he could-" "Could what? Kill...me?" Jack had had to smile at that. It was true, it'd be hard to kill a zombie.

He wasn't sure how it'd worked. A little cut with the knife, a twitch of the eye, a glitch, and Rob grabbing his arm. And now he was watching Anti frown in confusion as he stared at what he generally considered to be himself. "What is this?" It was odd hearing a full sentance come out of Rob's mouth, especially in that voice. "What a-am I? What have you d-done?" His voice seemed to be getting more stable, which seemed to unsettle him further. "Relax. You can stay for as long as it takes to do this." "What have you done?" he repeated, scowling as he looked down at his grey hands and striped shirt, picked up a piece of the purple fringe over his eyes. "Why are you still here?" "Robbie lent us his...services." "He...let me do this?" His eyes narrowed and he grinned suddenly. "You think you can reason with me, don't you? That's why you let him do this." "That's what I hoped, yeah," Jack nodded, leaning against the wall, hoping he looked casual. "Easier to talk with a willin' host?" "So much easier. Fits like a glove." He reached for the knife in Jack's hand, but it was jerked out of his reach. That was when Anti realized he was tied down, to a newly installed ring in the wall. He giggled. "You're funny, Jack. You think you can stop me." "No, not stop. Just...come to an agreement. And we're not total idiots." "Well, in that case," Anti spread his arms wide, grinning insanely. "I'm all ears." "Good." Jack paused. Where to start? What to say? If the others knew what he was planning... "First off, you're not allowed to hurt them. Any of them. Schneep, Chase, Jackie, you leave them alone. And Chase's kids. You're not allowed to hurt anyone." "I'm not allowed?" He laughed again. "How would you stop me?" "How have I always stopped you? You'll always be their villain, Anti, you don't scare me anymore. You can't do anything I don't want you to." "Bullshit." He twitched. "I spent an entire month doing things you didn't want." His tone was mocking, and it made Jack jump at the next shriek. "THEY LOVE ME! THEY LET IT HAPPEN! OVER AND OVER!" "Enough of your stupid catchphrases! Jesus, do you ever shut up? Are you gonna let me finish or not?" He was proud that his voice didn't shake. Anti gestured condescendingly for him to continue. Jack looked at the ground for the next part. "You can't let Signe know what's happening. You can never be in Brighton, nowhere near my family or my friends. I'll go somewhere else, I'll tell Signe I'm visiting someone. Pj said he'd help with that part." Anti seemed to be getting it now. "You're seriously doing this? Do they know what you're doing?" He jerked his head at the door, and the sound it made would've been worrying if his host had been a living person. He thumped his chest. "Does he know what you're doing? Maybe we have more in common that I thought!" "We have nothing in common," Jack said shortly. "You're the one making a deal with the devil," he smirked. "Last thing," Jack persisted. "No one knows it's real, and you're gonna keep it that way. You get one day a year, and little appearances when I give the okay." "So exactly what I've been doing since I got here? But you won't fight me." "And you don't get to hurt anyone." "Jack...I like how you think." His skin crawled as Anti smiled at him. For a second it was as if he was looking at himself, the purple and stripes replaced with flashes of green and black. He steeled himself. "Have we got a deal?" Anti nodded, laughing again. Jack extended his hand, the one not holding the knife. "Then okay. I'll let you in."

Chase jumped to his feet at the same time that Dap and Shawn jumped back from the door, and Jackie's and Schneep's heads whipped around. A knock. Dap was closest to the handle, he turned it and the five of them nearly fell into the room in their rush to get inside. All of them were looking frantically between the two figures, desperate to make sure they were alright. Rob looked shaken, but alright, if, if it was possible, a little paler than usual. Jack looked just the same as he had, a small, sheepish smile on his face. "Hey guys." "By Jesus, Jack, you can't be doin' that to us again!" Shawn yelled angrily. Dap had to be held back from slapping him, pointing aggressively at his watch. "It took longer than I thought, I know, I'm sorry," Jack mumbled, not meeting any of their eyes. Chase frowned. "Jack, dude, you okay? What'd he do?" "He...he agreed. He's not going to hurt anyone." "How?" Schneep demanded, "How did you get him to agree to zis? Vhat haff you done, Sean?" Jack jumped a little at the doctor's use of his real name. None of the egos ever called him that, Schneep must have been royally pissed. But he wasn't suspicious in the way that Chase was. "Nothing! Nothing! We just...talked." "About what?" "It's none of your-" "Of course it's our fucking business," Chase growled, more serious than anyone had seen him since the divorce. "I have kids, Jack. I need to know they'll be safe." Jack looked at him for a long moment, long enough to scare him. And then he looked at the ground and wouldn't look back up. "I promise, Chase. I promise your kids are safe." "That's not-" He stopped himself, took a breath. "Jack...tell me you didn't do anything stupid.” Jack smiled shakily, looking up to finally meet Chase’s eyes. "Aren't I always doing something stupid?"

Chase didn't answer, and he didn't laugh in relief like all the others did. He was the only one who'd seen it, and Jack knew it. That flash of green in his eyes? That was going to haunt him.

What've you done, Jack?