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cloud9in · 3 years

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The Half of It

A Mc x Poppy fic inspired by the film

Summary: Bea, the town’s outcast is recruited by the school jock to win Poppy’s heart. But what happens when she starts falling for her as well?

Author’s Note: So this will be a multiple part series that includes scenes heavily inspired from the movie “The Half of It”. I certainly recommend watching it. My version will have different twists and a different ending, and definitely more angst. It will include mature themes as the story progresses.

Warnings for this chapter: Swearing. This is a good thing for now.

Chapter 1-

“Love is simply the name for desire and pursuit of the whole.”

- Plato, The Symposium

It is said that when one half finds its other, there’s an unspoken understanding. A unity. And each would know no greater joy....than this.

...Except this is highschool. And in my opinion, there is no other half. Maybe the other half is a paper on Greek God philosophy due at midnight. But make that four papers, including mine.

My name is Bea Hughes and let’s just say...this is not a very happy story. Well maybe some parts are, but you’ll have to read to find out. I come from a small town called Farmsville, and when I mean small, I mean really small. Except the highschool seems fucking huge, with never ending hallways and when you do somehow find the end, there’s usually two inbreds eating each others mouths off. Lucky for me I am the epitome of antisocial, reserved, an introvert, or whatever the inferior beings, aka every other senior, calls me when they think I can’t hear. But I hear everything, including that one time Bradley Denbrough, upcoming hotshot actor, or so he claims, found out about a crush a poor unsuspecting freshman had on him. Everybody knew what Bradley and his goons did to that boy, even the adults, but no charges were pressed. This town is as conservative as it gets, but no one knows of my secret. I carry this school on my back when it comes to having everyone graduate, but that’s all I am to them, a pawn. And that’s all I wanted to be, nothing more and nothing less. I preferred to be in the shadows.

***

...Except the mandatory Senior Talent Show forced Bea out of her hibernation hole. The thought haunted her as she sat in the dance studio, the last fucking place she wanted to be. Dance was so not a Bea kinda thing, but the blonde knew exactly why she granted herself the misery of picking the class. Poppy Min Sinclair, the golden girl of Farmsville High, the preacher’s daughter on a more serious note. She is...the most fascinating girl Bea ever laid her eyes on even if her boyfriend was a complete asshole who sermonized his duties as her future husband. Like seriously? Poppy has got to have some screws loose to date such a fake loser who plagiarizes all of his speeches at sunday church, and once literally begged Bea to write an apology letter to his father for him after completely upending their summer cabin. Except the blonde wrote the opposite of an apology, it went something like this…

Dear beloved donkey, I mean dad,

I am terribly sorry for inviting 20 hookers to the summer cabin. I have these strange impulses and you should at least be grateful I didn��t invite the big boss as well. His wife came though, in many, many ways. You should get the carpet changed.

Sincerely, your STD free son

It was safe to say that Mr. Denbrough had a near heart attack after reading it, and Bea did kinda feel bad, kinda. He never mentioned the letter to Bradley though, instead silently calling up the owner of Teopoli Catholic Summer Camp and essentially deporting the boy to Canada for the summer. No son of his would end up in hell was what the old man preached everyday from then on. It was the quietest summer Bea had ever experienced.

Being the towns outcast, Bea could have her fun when she so chooses to, but that didn’t pay the bills. In fact, the multiple essays that people paid her to write was her way of surviving and taking care of her mother. They weren’t very rich but Bea worked with what she had, helping her mother manage the farm, which included getting on her knees and wrestling the pigs. And that’s how she was gifted the name “pig girl”, stupid Bradley and his fake friends just had to wander too far and catch Bea in the act. She swore a remixed video of her hog calling surfaced the web at one point and that gave the blonde her five minutes of fame. Boy was it an awful time in her life.

Bea worked her mother’s previous job as station master or signalman for the trains that passed through, even if it barely paid her shit. The secluded feeling of sitting in that booth and having a moment with her thoughts was enough to give her purpose. Bea was fond of poetry and it usually helped her come up with song lyrics.

Song lyrics…

That she would have to sing at the talent show. A huge sigh escaped her lips as she slumped further into the ground, maybe hoping she could bury herself six feet under. It wasn’t that Bea hated singing, no she absolutely loved it. Playing her guitar at night and belting out lyrics that only resulted in her mother banging on the ceiling below in efforts to shut the blonde up. But the mere fact that she’d have to sing in front of the ruthless seniors rubbed her the wrong way. Something would go wrong, it always did. Bea was shaken out of her thoughts when Poppy crossed the center of the room, moving her hips slowly to the sound of Rihanna’s voice. The class chose a slow r&b song to choreograph today and of course all eyes were on Poppy.

If i’m your girl say my name boy

let me know i'm in control

Her silky blonde locks swayed as she danced to the beat, hands thrusting sensually along her sides. Bea stared in awe, almost like Poppy was the only one in the room and a spotlight illuminated every movement, every curve. Except she definitely wasn’t the only one picturing Poppy in that way. Carter, the school quarterback leaned against the railing, arms crossed and eyes trailing the rise and fall of her chest.

Got me wondering, I’m wondering if i'm on your mind

Bea sat up straighter but nearly lost her bodily functions when Poppy locked eyes with her before spinning away. It was simple eye contact Bea, don’t let it get to your head. You already have multiple lyrics inspired by Poppy offering the bare minimum in human interaction. She doesn’t actually like you. Poppy is popular and has the perfect life...and boyfriend, even if Bea heavily disagrees. Poppy was a bitch of course, but not a bitch bitch. Unlike the other wannabe mean girls, the blonde didn’t give Bea hell, well that was because the girl paid her zero attention. She seemed distant, off in her own world, or well in her parents world learning the strategies of business. Poppy was expected to follow in her parents footsteps and keep up with her reputation of being the richest in town, and of course a faithful future wife. So fun. But the blonde had other prosperous dreams of travelling and following her passion of music and dance. Highschool was her only outlet and she took advantage of it any chance she’d get. Bea knew this because she would ride her bike every friday night to the school and watch Poppy dance from outside the glass window. Maybe Bea realized it was kinda creepy, but she’s dumb enough to not realize her obvious growing attraction. I mean who pedals miles just to watch someone trip on their feet?

***

The sound of the bell caught everyone's attention and the teacher slowly lowered the music. Bea watched as Bradley approached Poppy and smothered her with kisses and praises. She rolled her eyes painfully, this kind of PDA definitely wasn’t it, she could have gone her whole life without seeing that. She walked silently through the crowd of kids in the hall, everyone was laughing and talking to their friends. All Bea could allow her mind to focus on was the very intimidating billboard of names a few feet across from her.

Winter Talent Show Sign-Ups (Mandatory For Seniors)

Bea glared at it quietly before signing her name on the sheet, sealing her inevitable fate. Through the hustle of students, Carter watched the blonde with a yearning look from afar. This should be great…

The next few classes were a blur and Bea eventually found herself getting up to hand Ms. Kingsley her paper. The older woman looked at her with a knowing glance as she took a generous sip of her coffee, which was 75% tequila.

“6 different interpretations on Plato? Colour me impressed Miss Hughes.”

Bea shrugs nonchalant, “yeah well would you rather read their actual essays?”

“Oh hell no.” Kingsley feigns shock as she looks at the stack of papers with a comical expression. She takes another sip, watching her younger, prodigy of a student carefully. “You know there are places outside of this godforsaken town where you can put your talents to use... Real use. I teach at Belvoire University occasionally.” Ina winks and slides Bea an application, studying her initial reaction. “It’s...in New York.”

“Damn right! The Big Apple.”

“Kingsley you know I have to stay here. It’ll be easier for me to manage the farm and be close to home”, Bea says confidently even though her body language displays otherwise. She predicted the big sigh filling her ears before it actually happened and it still managed to faze her. “Who ever said you had to do anything? What about what you want to do?” Bea doesn’t make eye contact with Ina, that woman could convince you to do just about anything with a certain look. “No we are not doing this. You can take your reverse psychology and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. I’m outta here.” The blonde stomps out of the classroom, the sound of Ina’s chuckles still ringing in her ears.

“Hey! Everyone in this town fears God, but you know what God fears? My ability to hide a bottle of Don Julio in my left boot.” Ina pulls out the newly bought bottle and cradles it. “Come to mama.”

***

Bea rode her bike alongside the dirt road, Kingsley’s words on replay the entire ride. Maybe she did deserve to experience something more than what this town had to offer. But would her mother manage without her? Sacrifices, sacrifices. Bea was used to making those for her mother after her father’s death. What would her dad think of all of this?

“Hey!”

He’d surely smack Bea upside the head for the little antics she pulled occasionally. And then he’d buy her vanilla coconut ice cream and ask for every single detail of what happened as they sat and laughed together. That’s the kind of relationship Bea would have had with her father, she liked to assume so. She also liked to assume that she’d get home safely everyday without a scratch, but then there’s Carter.

“Hey wait up!”

The jock seemed to be running ridiculously fast and crashed right into the rear end of Bea’s bicycle, sending her face first into a mount of dirt. The initial impact was enough to boost the blonde straight back up like nothing happened and into a fighting stance, fists out and eyes wild. Very scary Bea. When she realized it was him...well it only pissed her off even more. “What the fuck Carter! You asshole!”

“I’m sorry Bea! Here let me help-”

“No! Move away! You- my bike- I…” Bea groans frustratingly, stepping away from the wreck as she tries to catch her breath. Carter watches her sheepishly, rubbing an envelope between his fingers awkwardly. After a few minutes of painfully uneasy silence he speaks up, “Okay...I didn’t want to ask you this way but I was wonder-”

“Oh, so you practically break my ass and now you want me to do you a favour? Real nice way of communication you have there Mr. Quarterback. What is with you and those freakishly large muscles anyways? Maybe it’s my fault I didn’t hear your avalanche built ass coming from behind.”

“Hey! They are not freakishly large!”

“I hate to break it to you Jackson but mine are significantly more appealing to look at.” Bea smirks widely, flexing her arm as best as she could. It’s a work in progress… just bare with her.

It didn’t take much effort for Carter to break out into a smile and look at her fondly. Maybe there was more to this girl than just being a human dictionary. Well that’s what people called her, and he maybe believed it at first.

Bea noticed the lack of response and shifted awkwardly, clearing her throat. “Listen, its $10 for three pages, $20 for three to ten, I'm not in the over-ten-page biz.”

“No..no I’m not here to cheat!” Carter blurts out. “But I’ll let you know if I do plan on- anyways. I uh..” He hesitates before handing her the envelope. “What’s this?

“Well you see it’s a letter..”

“Yeah but who writes letters these days?”

“I thought it seemed romantic..”

“And I thought women writing Jeffrey Dahmer letters in jail seemed romantic”, Bea says sarcastically, her smile dropping instantly after catching a glimpse of Poppy’s name at the top of the paper. It was like the blood stopped flowing through her body for a few seconds as her mouth went dry. This had to be the work of the so-called God everyone praised in this town, or it was one cruel coincidence. Bea wasn’t sure why seeing her name made her heart beat ten times harder, but it also wasn’t a necessarily uncomfortable feeling…

“I- I can’t help you.”

“But if you just add a few more words-”

“I’m not writing a letter to Poppy Min Sincla- to..to some girl for you. Letters are supposed to be authentic, from the heart, your own words, your...feelings.” Bea hurriedly turns to grab her bike, suddenly losing all interest in being social.

Carter was afraid this would happen. But he was stubborn. “But I can pay more for authentic!”

Too bad Bea was stubborn as well. “Just get a thesaurus...Good luck, Romeo.”

***

Bea sat in her room, strumming away softly at the strings of her guitar. Some of the keys were off but the old thing still worked, and that was good enough for her. She could hear the tv blasting downstairs, her mother most likely watching the news. There’s something about old people and news, were they secretly ogling the news anchors? Just like Bea ogled Poppy any chance she could. The blonde frowned to herself, her eyebrows crunching together in question. What so hard about writing a letter to Poppy? It’s not like it's coming from her. Well it technically is, but Carter is taking the credit and Bea never had a problem with people taking credit for her words. So why did this very thought prove to be such an inconvenience? Lucky for Bea, her mind drifted elsewhere when she heard a painful snap. Even if it wasn’t physically connected to her body, she felt a horrible ache. Slowly peering down at the guitar in her hand, Bea found that the neck of the guitar had miraculously split almost clean off, a splinter of wood just holding it intact. She wanted to scream but nothing really came out, except air of course. Much to her disapproval, this was definitely a result of her strength. Stupid muscles couldn’t contain themselves at the thought of Carter being with Poppy. Now how could that be?

But now she had no guitar. And no guitar means no strings to strum, and no lyrics to sing, and no talent to show at the talent show. Now she was in trouble. Probably because she knew that the only way to get the money to replace the guitar would be through sealing the deal with Carter. Oh fuck it!

***

“One letter. And enough money to buy a new guitar.”

“Deal!”

Bea turns away with a sigh, completely ignoring Carter’s high five. Now all she had to do was write this letter, and pray that Poppy wouldn’t completely consume every fiber of her being in the process.

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

End note: So how we feelin’? Carter and Bea Brotp??

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme @baexpoppy @zigxryanz @uselesslesbianfr @aleiramacaii @thedaft1 @alexlabhont @iamsimpforpoppy

#queen b #poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #mc x poppy #playchoices #I couldn't come up with a unique title #throw some ideas if you have #do share your opinion on this #it is valued #oblivious bea is a pain in the ass #but certainly fun to write

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mintsuke · 4 years

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Forelsket | 8 - Not a Dream

Tsukishima Kei x f!Reader

Note: Out of embarrassment, you closed your eyes during the whole process.

A/n: A little short but finally LMAO.

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Perhaps you never quite forgot about the pretty boy, who had quite literally swept you off your feet and stole a kiss from you. Soft-looking blonde hair and a warm shade of honey brown eyes. Tall and stoic, a mysterious kind of guy maybe.

Yet, all of that was ruined when he decided to open his mouth. A very soft... or harsh... reminder that boys were just not it for you right now. Gosh, if only. You really might have taken Kuroo’s advice to move on by finding a new beau. Was the world just against you, that it decided the men in your life were all shit. Besides Kenma of course.

Kuroo was debatable.

So when you wake up the day after you return to Tokyo, world pitch black from the eye mask you didn’t know you had, you weren’t expecting the foreign contents of what was supposed to be your room.

“Tetsu?” You yawn, confused why your bed felt emptier. The middle blocker had been sleeping over, and you really hope he’s not destroying your kitchen in attempt to cheer you up from yet another barrage of calls from your ex.

You froze. Was that your voice? Were you sick? Slipping off the eye mask, you set it down on the bed. Ignoring your abnormally larger hard, you brush your palm over the mattress. Were these your bed sheets? You don’t quite remember having this color. Glancing around, you don’t even remember ever having such bad eyesight.

Through the blurry blobs, you spot glasses on the nightstand and don them as you examine your surroundings. You notice the shelves lined with figures of dinosaurs and the school uniform and volleyball jersey that hangs on hooks on the door to your room... at least whoever’s room you were in.

You were either kidnapped by a prehistorical nerd, or your childhood friend had somehow changed the whole layout of your room within hours. The latter didn’t seem to convincing, but knowing Kuroo, it was still possible.

Scratching your head, you squeeze your eyes shut at your lack of longer hair. Soft and short strands met your fingertips as you swear to any god out there, if Kuroo Tetsurou cut your hair in your sleep as some sort of prank - he was going to meet his death.

Slipping out of bed, you glance down at your abnormally longer legs. You’re equally as weirded out as you stand and find that you reach the height of the doorway when you leave the confines of the room and into an unfamiliar hallway. Through trial and error, you find the bathroom, switching on the lights as you glance at the mirror.

Your heart stops.

Was... was that you?

“Hah?!” You exclaim in shock, gripping the edges of the counter to stare at your reflection. Familiar honey eyes stare back in mirrored shock, wide in disbelief, as you recognize the face of the pretty boy from just the day before.

Slowly raising your hands to your face, you watch as the reflection mimics the way you brush your digits over your cheeks.

Was this real? Were you hallucinating? A dream?

You pinch yourself with a wince at the sharp pain.

Not a dream apparently.

“Hey— you’re unusually loud this morning, you okay?”

You flinch, glancing over at the male standing at the doorway. He’s slightly shorter than your current body, sporting the same blonde hair color and honey colored eyes. His expression is notably more softer than the stern frown you had seen on the boy in the mirror.

Currently, you were still finding it hard to believe that you were in that boy’s body right now. You didn’t even sleep that late last night. So how was any of this even possible?

Were you reading too many shoujo books? Body swaps couldn’t possibly be real... right?

“I’m fine,” You answer finally when you realize he’s still waiting for a response.

Was this his brother perhaps? The similarities in appearances were striking. He was too young-looking to be his father.

He doesn’t seem too convinced by the answer, but he shakes his head and shrugs, “Alright, if you need anything let me know, you look a little pale.”

He was right. When he finally left you alone, you shut the door with a click of the lock and turned to once again appraise yourself in the mirror. The color from your cheeks were draining and you looked as though you’ve seen a ghost. Although, honestly the expression seemed so out of character and weird on the middle blocker’s face.

You were starting to panic, chest tightening as you gradually grew dizzier. Taking a seat on the toilet seat cover, you placed your head in your hands.

Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out.

You stayed like this until you felt the world come to a stand still and you could breathe normally again.

How did this happen in the first place? Your brows scrunched together in hard concentration, thinking back to your only interaction with the boy. The pads of your fingers brush over your, well... his bottom lip, remembering the static of electricity that had shocked you when you’d both kissed that night. Could it have been...? Was that even possible outside of anime and manga?

Then you felt it. Horror struck across your expression as you glanced down at your crotch.

You really had to pee right now.

Tsukishima opened his eyes to the bright shine of the sun slicing through the blades of the blinds. Irritated, he wondered where his eye mask had gone in the middle of the night. He shifted to sit up when he realized he was being held captive by a tight hold around his middle.

Finally growing aware of the warmth surrounding him, he raised his chin to glare up at the sleeping face of Kuroo Tetsurou.

Wait. What.

He looked up and down multiple times, squeezing his eyes shut and reopening them, in case he was hallucinating. Each time, he grew even more uncomfortable with how close his mentor was, and even more disturbed by his sudden appearance.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house Kuroo-san?” He spat harshly, before his mind went blank at the pitch of his voice.

Seriously what the fuck?

“Mm, Kuroo-san? I don’t remember pulling a prank on you just yet (F/n),” The raven-haired middle blocker hums, stirring from his sleep at the sound of his name.

Tsukishima didn’t remember seeing Kuroo last night, nor did he remember getting in bed with him. The disgust at the thought and the experience right now, was making shivers run down his spine. He needed to get out of this weird cuddle position they were in, and fast.

“Let go of me you pervert, I’m not into that,” He hisses, ripping himself from the other middle blocker’s arms. The sound of his voice continued to throw him off as he sat up and glanced around the room.

What was going on? His eyesight had significantly improved. Moreover, this was definitely not his room.

“(F/n), are you okay? You literally asked for cuddles last night?” The other male says, more confused now as he sits up with a drawn out yawn.

“(F/n)? Are you blind now? I’m Tsukishima?” He snaps in annoyance.

Who the hell is (F/n)?

Kuroo’s eyes open wide now, more awake and even more confused by his answer.

“I’m serious, are you okay? Did kissing Glasses-kun mess you up that bad?” he asks teasingly, ruffling the shorter’s hair.

That’s when Tsukishima notices his longer hairstyle. He’s also suddenly aware of how much bigger his mentor appears in comparison to himself. Had he always been that much larger than him? They were supposedly about near each other’s heights.

Wait. Kiss?

Tsukishima turns to him with squinted eyes, frowning up at the elder.

“How do you know about the kiss?”

The older blinks down at him. Really what was going on with his childhood friend? Were you having a random case of amnesia? So suddenly, was that even plausible?

“You told me? Are you sure you’re okay? Did you fall down again before I came over?”

His brows furrowed, he didn’t tell anyone, not even Yamaguchi told the two idiots plus Yachi. His friend didn’t even talk to the opposing captain either, so how?

“No what the fuck, besides that, where are we? This isn’t my house.”

Kuroo makes a face at that.

“We are at your house (F/n).”

“No, and I’m Tsukishima.”

Hazel eyes squint down at him. Kuroo opens his mouth to say something when his phone vibrates incessantly on the nightstand. With his back turned to reach for the device, Tsukishima glances at the table to find a picture frame of the Nekoma captain, his pudding-haired setter, and you — the girl he’d knocked over on his descent down the stairs and kissed just the other night.

Picking up the phone, Kuroo is momentarily surprised to be receiving a call from the caller ID titled as “Tsukki”. Once accepting the call, he’s about to express his surprise about receiving a call from the aloof blonde, when his eyes widen at the frantic voice on the other line.

“What do you mean you’re (F/n)?”

+Taglist | Open! (Send an ask or comment! | Comment replies from my main @minnochu)

@goopycookie @mirikusashes @kac-chowsballs @angrylittlezizi @ack-aashi @sadhwstudent @grapesauze @galagcica @koznme @irenevyas @leinnah @differentballooncollection @saturnfarie @deefeatist @animeanxiety @leivapats @shslmel @atria-avior @pleasemelafook-outta-ere @httpglxssy @applepienation @lilacshouko @jaehyunluvcult @dandelily @beanst0ck @elianetsantana @shortcakebb @erik-killmanger @supercoolfunguy @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney @halparkebitch @cvlliesstuff

(Could not tag in bold)

#very quickly proofread we die like men tonight #forelsket mintsuke #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu social media #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #tsukishima smau #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x y/n

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viostormcaller · 4 years

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Stringbound Chapter 2

[TW: nausea/vomiting, near car accident, needles, fainting (ask to tag if I’ve missed something!)]

AN: This has been ready for a good while, actually! I just haven’t posted it since I’ve been away. However, since it’s Marvin’s birthday, I thought it fitting to post this today. So, happy birthday, Marvin, and I duly apologize for the awful things that happen to you in this chapter. Now, without further ado, here’s chapter 2!

Read Chapter 1

As the tension finally dissipated from the theatre, Marvin could finally feel that the threat was gone. It was just them now. At first, he let himself calm down and relax while Jackieboy Man called whoever it was he needed to call and informed them on the situation. But then, it hit him all at once, just as the adrenaline from the fight wore off. A dizzying, blinding headache accompanied by ringing ears and followed by a nosebleed. His body began to ache and he felt nauseated and overwhelmed, skin prickling all over. He overdid it, he definitely overdid it. Normally he would take a moment to rest after a show because he needs to recharge after expending his magical energy, despite the amount he uses never being a significant amount. His shows not only never take much out of him, but they also never involve combat, especially when it's an overpowered, unkillable enemy. He actually hadn't fought anyone using magic in a long, long time. Hadn't needed to. He fell to his knees with a grunt, holding his head and groaning.

Jackieboy Man startled when he heard the thump, looking behind him to see Marvin doubled over on his knees. He cursed to himself and put whoever it was he was talking to on hold. "Shit, you alright?!"

"Overdid it," he got out. "Too much-- ngh! Energy…"

"Are you injured anywhere else?" Jackieboy Man asked.

"Nn-nnh," Marvin shook his head. Instant regret. His body lurched and he clapped a hand over his mouth, his eyes beginning to sting. He swallowed thickly and slowly exhaled. "Don' feel well… gonna be sick…"

"Okay, shit, uh… you'll come with me, you can lie down and rest, um… D'you need anythin' else or are you alright?"

"Lie down… 'n a shower… 's it…"

"Alright, gotcha."

"I'll give you… my address. You c'n take me home…"

"Ah… no, can't do that. Sorry. You'll have to stay with me. Not safe with Antisepticeye after you now."

"I can... handle myself," Marvin forced out, his frustration making his head hurt worse. "'m a grown adult. Don' need protecting."

"No, trust me on this one. Please." Jackieboy urged. "I know what I'm talking about. I'm not having anyone else go missing or fall deathly ill under his control, not on my watch. And you're weakened, on top of that. You have to come with me. I've rigged the house in a way where he can't find me or anyone else who stays there. You'll be safe there until the heat's off you."

"...fine," Marvin agreed begrudgingly. Jackieboy Man sounded sincere enough, and the hero did appear to have more experience with Antisepticeye than he did. But mostly, the sooner he could lie down, the better, and at this point he would do anything to speed things along.

"First, though," Jackieboy began, fishing through one of his satchels.

Marvin groaned. Ugh, what now, he thought to himself, clearly annoyed.

Jackieboy Man held out a tissue to Marvin. "Your nose is bleeding."

"Mmh." Right. Aside from the metallic taste coating his lips, he'd nearly forgotten. He pressed the napkin to his nose and pinched it, tilting his head back. His nosebleeds never lasted long, thankfully, so as soon as it stopped a moment later, he was able to shakily rise onto his feet. Though, the dizziness struck back hard, nearly causing him to fall over again.

"Woah, careful! You alright?" Jackieboy asked, rushing over to steady him.

"Mmh… thanks."

"No problem. Y'know…" Jackieboy couldn't help but smirk, "considering you seem to have a connection to cats, I assumed you'd have better balance than that!"

Marvin furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes at Jackieboy Man, giving him a "what the actual fuck are you talking about?" face.

"Your cat mask?" Jackieboy supplied.

Marvin rolled his eyes and sucked his teeth, turning his gaze away from the hero. "Shut up."

Jackieboy snorted. "Alright, let's get you somewhere safe. Friend of mine should be waiting outside by now. He'll drive us. You don't get carsick, do you?"

"No."

"Good. Alright, easy does it, now… slow steps."

Jackieboy Man slowly led Marvin out through the exit door he sawed open earlier on. They headed through the hallway leading out to the main doors and were hit with the cold night air as they stepped outside. The bright city lights were glaring, making Marvin's eyes hurt. He hissed and shut them, feeling his head pound harder. The cold air was cooling down his overheating body, at least, but he could tell he would be shivering before long.

"That white car over there is where we're headed," Jackieboy Man informed. "My friend -- his name's Chase -- he'll be taking us back to the house."

"Mmh."

"You're really clammy," Jackieboy commented. "Sure you're not comin' down with something?"

"Jus' overdid it…" Marvin got out. "I'll be fine."

"There's a doctor that lives with us. He can check you out if you want?" Jackieboy Man offered.

"Mmh." Marvin really didn't feel like seeing a doctor, nor did he need to, but he also didn't feel like talking anymore. He figured the hero would shut up if he just nodded and agreed. Plus, the sooner he stopped talking, the better, because the nausea was hitting Marvin full force and the last thing he wanted to do was open his mouth to speak, lest more than words came out.

Finally, the pair finally made it to the car. Jackieboy Man helped Marvin in first, who scooted all the way towards the left-most seat, while Jackieboy sat on the far right. Marvin took the opportunity to pull his mask off his face and set it down in the empty space between them.

"Yo, Jackie, everything good?" asked the driver, who Marvin assumed was Chase. "And who's this you got with you?"

"Yeah, Chase, we're fine. Oh, and this is Marvin," explained Jackie. He then turned to Marvin. "Wait, your name is Marvin, right? I was just goin' off the sign on the theatre."

"Yeah, name's Marvin." he mumbled, trying not to open his mouth too much.

"Ah, okay. Good. Yeah, he was targeted at his show tonight. I'm takin' him back with us to stay 'til the heat's off 'im."

"Yeah, alright." Chase sighed. The house was big, sure, but if Jackie kept taking on new people like this… well, he supposed it was for the best. "So, uh… we heading straight back? Or d'you need to stop anywhere first?"

"Nah, just head straight home. Marvin needs to lie down and rest. But drive slow, alright? He's not feeling well."

"Yeah, alright. He injured?"

"No, no. Thankfully he's not. I'll explain later, but he just needs to find someplace to lie down."

"Alright. Everyone buckled in?"

"Yeah, I am. Marv, you buckled?"

"Mhm," Marvin hummed.

"Alright, starting the car now."

Chase pulled out of his parking spot and began to drive off. True to his word, he kept his speed slow, but Marvin could still feel every jerk and bump of the car. He had his head leaned against the window, taking slow, deep breaths, his eyes closed.

"Hey, Marvin?"

"Mmh?" Marvin slightly turned his head towards Jackie's direction.

"You see that pocket on the back of Chase's seat? There's paper bags in there. Keep 'em there just for situations like this. If you feel like you're gonna be sick, don't be afraid to take one, alright?"

Marvin hummed in acknowledgement, going back to closing his eyes. He was trying with all his willpower to settle his stomach as much as he possibly could. He didn't want to resort to using a bag, but he'd be mortified if he threw up in someone else's car. Gods, he hoped he could lie down soon…

Chase was paying close attention to the road, trying to watch his speed and make sure he wasn't driving too fast and not too slow, that he was in the correct lane, when suddenly a car from the complete opposite side of the freeway came barreling at him from his left. He spotted it just in time, largening headlights near blinding him.

"Holy shit!" Chase cried. He rapidly turned the wheel, speeding up to try and get out of the way. Jackie cried out from the back seat and held on tight to the handle on the roof of the car as it swerved and collided with the guardrail, the screech of metal on metal filling the car. Marvin groaned and hissed as his stomach flip-flopped and his head bumped hard up against the window. The other car thankfully missed, and aside from the car scraping against the guardrail, nothing was damaged and no one was severely hurt. He turned on the hazard lights and quickly pulled over, trying hard to catch his breath and calm his heart. His entire body was trembling.

"Shit… you guys… you guys alright back there?" he got out between pants.

"Yeah… think we're good," Jackie said. "Shit, man, what happened?"

"Dude, someone tried to fuckin' hit us."

"Shit, you serious?"

"Yes!" Chase turned around in his seat to face Jackie, eyes wide with fear. "Dude, I swear to god, this car came from the other fuckin' side of the freeway and came charging right at us, like it was trying to hit us. Coulda killed all three of us if I didn't move out of the way!"

"You… you don't think it was a drunk driver, do you?" suggested Jackie.

"Nah, man, that felt way too deliberate to be a drunk driver. It looked like whoever was driving was targeting us."

"...Well, then we better get home fast," Jackie said. "If the road's not safe, then we gotta get outta harm's way."

"R-right, right…" Chase turned back around to slump in his seat and took a deep breath, calming himself. He was still shaking, but he knew he had to get everyone home. They couldn't sit there forever. He reluctantly turned off the hazard lights and, after waiting for all the cars to pass, slowly veered the car back onto the freeway.

Marvin, meanwhile, had a hand over his stomach, feeling it turn and bubble. Throughout Jackie and Chase's conversation, he was desperately trying to fend off the nausea with little success. As the minutes passed by it only became worse. His breathing grew quick, jaw clenched as he tried with all his willpower to keep whatever wanted to come up, down.

"Marvin?" Jackieboy asked frantically, turning to Marvin with a worried look in his eyes as soon as he'd noticed his breathing had picked up. "Marvin, are you okay?"

Marvin didn't answer. His brow was furrowed, sweat beading on his forehead. He hated feeling this way. He hated nausea, the way his entire body prickled with it. He swallowed thickly and tried to steady his breathing, but swallowing triggered his nausea further. He gagged once and then finally his stomach lurched, bile rushing up his throat. Marvin quickly sat upright, clapping one hand over his mouth and using the other to reach out and open up a paper bag. Against his will his stomach lurched again, body convulsing, more bile filling his mouth and spilling out into his hand. He got the bag opened, and no sooner had he done so did he heave, vomiting into it.

"Get it up, Marvin, it's alright. I've got you," Jackie supported.

Marvin felt a hand on his back, rubbing in slow circles. He almost wanted to shrug him off but didn't have the mental energy to, not while also focusing on expelling whatever it was his body was so kind as to reject.

"Marvin's throwing up back there?" Chase called from up front.

"Yeah. Don't worry, none got in the car if that's what you're worried about." Jackie answered.

"Is he okay?"

"Uh… gonna say no on that one. He doesn't look like he's doin' too hot. How far are we from the house?"

"Uh, give or take twenty minutes?"

"Alright. Hang on 'til then, Marv. Okay?"

Marvin groaned, breath hitching as he was stopped up short by another wave of nausea. His head felt like it was being squeezed by a really tight rubber band, only worsening as he coughed and gasped. He wanted nothing more than to lie down somewhere, curl up into a ball and just sleep. When the nausea for the most part subsided, stomach empty of all it had and then some, he went back to leaning against the window, taking slow breaths as he tried to calm his heart and his breathing down.

Finally, Chase was pulling into a driveway. Marvin couldn't see as his eyes were closed, but he felt the car slowing down and heard the sound of tires against gravel. The engine whirred to a stop, the car filling with silence. Finally, there was the sound of Chase unbuckling his seatbelt and the silence was accompanied by cold air as his door was opened.

Chase naturally went outside to inspect the damage. It looked pretty bad… but it could have easily been a whole lot worse. He tried to be grateful for that. He could only force out a breath, running his hand through his hair. He knew he couldn't afford to pay to fix this right now, so he only hoped that this was all the damage that was done.

Jackieboy simply watched Chase from his window for a moment before turning towards Marvin. His eyes were closed and his breathing was awfully… still. "Marvin…?" he whispered. Was he asleep?

"Mmh?" Marvin hummed, not looking up.

"We're home."

"Mm…"

"Need me to help you out of the car?"

Jackieboy didn't get an answer. He hummed to himself and got out, going over to Marvin's side and opening the door. He unbuckled the seatbelt holding him and went to help Marvin up.

Marvin allowed himself to be helped up, but as soon as he moved, the world began to spin dangerously. His vision rapidly blurred and darkened and he collapsed, feeling a quick burst of pain shoot up his arm and through his side as he collided with the pavement beneath him, and then nothing.

"Shit, Marvin?! Marvin, are you okay?" Jackie cried out, bending down. He began to shake him. "Marvin? Marvin! Shit… Chase, Marvin's not responding. Go inside and get Schneep. Hurry!"

"Fuck, dude… yeah, on it!" Chase quickly locked the car before dashing towards the house, nearly tripping on the front steps and almost dropping his keys trying to unlock the door.

"Henrik!" Chase called into the house. "Henrik, where are you, man?" He was met with silence. With a slightly-annoyed huff, he headed straight towards a door on the right side of the hallway ahead of him and quickly threw it open, hurrying down the basement stairs. He finally reached the basement door at the bottom and burst through.

"Henrik," Chase repeated.

"Hm?!" Henrik startled, looking up from the paperwork on his desk and quickly swiveling around in his chair.

"Hen, we need you outside. Someone we're helping fuckin' passed out on the ground."

"Oh, für die Liebe zu…" Henrik huffed and rolled his eyes. He didn't hesitate in standing, though, immediately pulling on his white lab coat that was hanging nearby and grabbing a fresh pair of medical gloves. "Take me to them," he directed.

Chase nodded. The pair of them rushed back up the stairs and out the door, and Chase led Henrik over to where Jackie was, leaned over Marvin's unconscious form.

"What happened? Who is this?" Henrik asked, crouching down beside the stranger's limp body.

"His name's Marvin. He's staying with us until the heat's off him. He was attacked at his show tonight. By you-know-who."

Henrik hummed and slowly nodded in grim understanding. He had no qualms helping this stranger now, now that he had context. "What happened before he collapsed? What symptoms was he having?"

"Uh… he was really clammy, he was nauseous…"

"Was he vomiting?"

"Yeah, he was, though I should mention that was only after the car swerved. Uh… he said he had a headache and his nose was bleeding earlier. I think he said he just overdid it and used too much magic energy? But I still hoped you would check him out anyway, just to be sure."

"Magic? You serious?" Chase asked disbelievingly.

"Yeah, man, another magic user. You shoulda seen it, though. Marvin's powerful."

"Ugh, enough of the chit-chat," scolded Henrik impatiently. "Help me get Marvin inside. Is cold out here and I do not want him getting hypothermia."

"Right, right. Sorry." Jackie apologized.

The three of them lifted Marvin, and while it was awkward, they managed to safely get him inside. After removing his cape, suit jacket, and shoes, they set him down on the couch for now, piling blankets over him and setting pillows underneath his head. Afterwards Jackie and Chase sat themselves at the kitchen table and Henrik heated up the food he'd been saving for them -- he'd eaten his own plate earlier.

"So," Henrik grunted as he sat down in his chair. "You had said the car swerved while you were driving, yes? What happened?"

"Someone… someone tried to hit us," Chase replied.

"Tried to hit you? Are you certain?"

Chase grimly nodded, swallowing what was in his mouth. "Yeah, pretty certain, dude. Car came at us from the opposite side of the freeway. I had to swerve outta the way. Car hit the guardrail, dunno if you saw the damage."

"Yes, I… I saw." Henrik fell silent, mulling this over. "I assume you did not get a license plate, did you?"

Chase shook his head sadly.

"I figured as much. Did you get a look at the driver, at least?"

"No. Headlights were so bright that I couldn't see anything. I mean, shit, it was dumb luck I was able to get us outta the way at all!"

"If the damage is bad enough I might have to be called in to help clean up debris and help the survivors, if that car hit anyone else," Jackie said, his voice having a serious edge to it.

"No, I think you are fine, Jackieboy," Henrik said with a shake of his head. "If they needed help cleaning up, they would have called earlier. Maybe the car did not hit any other drivers?"

"I can only hope."

The three fell silent then, Henrik simply watching over Chase and Jackieboy Man as they ate. Finally, Chase spoke up, setting his fork down.

"...I'm pretty sure there's only one person who would have it out for us enough to try and hit us."

"It… it couldn't have been him," Jackie said. "I dunno where he fucked off to, but… we did really heavy damage to him."

Henrik blinked. This was news. "You… you did? What did you do?"

"It was…" Jackie huffed, laughing silently. "It was mostly Marvin, if I'm gonna be honest. He's really fuckin' powerful, you guys have no idea. Who knows how long he's been eyeing Marvin for, with that kinda strength…"

"Mm, we could use someone like him, then," Henrik said.

"At one point, um… I thought he killed him."

Both Henrik's and Chase's eyes widened.

"Dude… you serious?"

"Swear on my Ma. He was… he was out for a good minute. Had a hole blasted through the center of his skull. But, uh… apparently, he can't die."

Henrik's brow furrowed. "What… what do you mean, "he cannot die?""

"I mean that… he's not alive in the first place. I guess he… never was. Which means I need to look at a different approach to taking him out."

Chase just silently cursed to himself, slumping back in his chair and dragging a hand down his face.

"I do have good news, though!" Jackieboy quickly added. "You know those prototype bullets I've been workin' on? They work! They're pretty effective! If I make 'em a bit stronger, who knows how much damage they'll do!"

"Good, good! So we have a starting point for building defense, then," Henrik said with a relieved smile.

"Seems so, yeah."

Finally, Jackie looked over to Marvin, who was knocked out on the couch.

"So… what are we doing with Marvin?"

"...Well, the only option is for him to sleep on the couch," Henrik said. "Chase has his room, you are using mine, and I sleep down in the lab… the only place left is the living room."

"Guess you're right…"

"I am going to watch over Marvin for the night, make sure he is alright. Are either of you injured, by the way?"

"Nah, I'm good," Jackie shook his head.

"Same here," agreed Chase. "Little shaken up, but I'm all good otherwise."

"Good, good."

"Wait, shouldn't you be by Jack?" asked Jackie.

"I mean, yes, but as of right now, Marvin is the priority. If he is sick, I need to be there in case he gets any worse."

"I can go watch Jack," Chase offered.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, man. I mean…" Chase laughed, "I'm probably not gonna be sleeping tonight, anyways. Might as well do something useful, yeah?"

Jackie nodded and rose. "I'm gonna head upstairs and write everything that happened tonight down, and then head to bed so I can get an early start tomorrow. Gonna head out on patrols in the morning instead of at night just in case his puppets are on the loose. After tonight, can't be too cautious."

"That is a good idea, Jackie. I will be in the living room. Chase, if you notice anything that is not right with Jack during the night, we will swap places. I will go down to be with Jack and you will watch Marvin. Does that sound good?"

"Yeah, sounds good to me." Chase rose as well, grabbing his plate.

"Oh, do not worry about the dishes. I will do them. You two both go."

"Thanks, dude," smiled Chase.

"Yeah, thanks, Schneep. Owe you one." Jackie was about to head upstairs, but a final glance at Marvin reminded Jackie of something important. "Oh shit. Chase, wait, need a favor from you."

"Yeah? What's up?"

"Go down to the car and grab Marvin's mask. It's in the back seat."

"Yeah, got it." Chase pulled his keys out of his pocket and headed for the door, pulling it open and stepping outside.

Jackie headed upstairs while Chase was gone, while Henrik proceeded to wash the plates and utensils. When Chase came back, he set Marvin's mask on the coffee table and headed downstairs to watch over Jack. Once the dishes were done, Henrik headed to the living room to get comfy in one of the reclining chairs opposite and to the right of the couch and proceeded to watch over Marvin during the night. Eventually, though, he fell asleep.

⁂

Marvin groaned as he awoke. His head was still throbbing, his body ached, his middle was sore… He always felt like shit after expending so much energy. This was normal, but it didn't make it any less unpleasant. He went to move his arms so he could sit up and hold his head, but the first thing he was made aware of was the pile -- not one, but an actual, literal pile -- of blankets covering him. He opened his eyes to find that he was on a couch in an unfamiliar living room. Off to his right, he detected the faint sound of someone snoring. It was someone he didn't recognize, sporting skewed glasses and a white lab coat, still detectable despite the darkness of the room. A scientist, perhaps? Or, wait, Jackieboy Man mentioned they lived with a doctor. This must be him. Marvin reasoned he was responsible for covering him in so many blankets. He made a mental note to thank him when he woke up.

Marvin pushed the blankets off of him and pulled himself up off the couch. He spotted his mask sitting on the nearby coffee table. He wondered who brought it inside, considering he didn't grab it before he passed out. Well, better here than in the car, he figured. He couldn't afford to lose that mask; it meant a great deal to him. Pulling himself from his thoughts, he headed out of the living room, trying to make his way around this new environment and memorize its layout so he knew where to go should there ever be danger. Also, it was helpful to know where the bathroom was, considering that was where he was heading.

He was still dizzy, so he made doubly sure to keep one hand trailing against a wall or against a piece of furniture at all times as he (rather slowly) explored this new place. The other was kept against his head. Despite the headache, he tried to take in as many details as he could. From what he gathered so far, the living room and kitchen were right across from each other, with the staircase separating them and the front door located at the point where they meet. Past the staircase was a hallway leading straight ahead from the front door, and there was a windowed door at the very end of the hallway that appeared to lead outside. There was a sole door on the left side of the hall, halfway down, and two doors on the right, one under the staircase and another a few feet down. The one under the staircase was a bit smaller, so given its size Marvin assumed it to be a closet of sorts. The left door, evidently, led to the bathroom, and for now that was all the info Marvin needed. He ducked in, flicking on the light and locking the door behind him.

It took a while for his aching eyes to adjust to the harsh light of the bathroom, but he at least had stopped squinting by the time he washed his hands. He leaned against the counter, taking deep breaths. Everything hurt. As he kept telling himself, feeling like shit was normal after expending too much energy, especially since he hadn't engaged in combat with anyone in a very long time. However, he really didn't feel very well and it was noticeable enough for him to tell that something wasn't right. The dizziness wasn't subsiding and neither was the headache. His stomach was caught between being sore from exertion and a genuine, slightly nauseating ache. What's worse, he still felt weak and shaky, as if yesterday's battle happened an hour ago. Did he really push himself that far? He knew he was slightly out of practice, but something wasn't adding up. He knew he needed to look into it as soon as possible, but for now he simply opened the bathroom door and stepped out, remembering to turn the light off as he did so.

The room looked so much darker now that the light was off. It was hard for Marvin's eyes to readjust. He kept a hand on the wall, feeling his way around and trying to keep himself upright as his vision slowly began to pick up the silhouettes of furniture. Anything large and stable he leaned on until he made his way back to the couch.

Or, well, almost.

It's hard to tell just how much the room is spinning when said room is pitch-black. All Marvin knew was that suddenly, he felt really lightheaded. And then, in a stroke of bad luck, he stubbed his toe against the coffee table and fell with a strangled cry, his right side colliding with the floor.

"Nnh?!" Henrik jerked awake at the noise, sitting up and adjusting his glasses and looking around with wide eyes. "Wh-who is it? Who is there?!" he demanded.

Marvin tried with all his might, but he was too weak and too dizzy to get up. Gods, what's happening to me?! he mentally panicked. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and then attempted to speak. "Hh… h-help me…" he got out.

Henrik quickly rose, adjusting his glasses and moving to flick on the living room light. Marvin hissed in pain as he was once again momentarily blinded by the drastic shift in brightness. This made the headache all the much worse and he whimpered.

"Marvin?" Henrik questioned near-disbelievingly. "Marvin, are you okay?"

"Help… please, help me up…" Marvin begged.

Henrik nodded and quickly got to work, moving the coffee table out of the way first before reaching down to help support Marvin and get him onto his feet. However, he was having a hard time trying to lift him up. It was like he was going completely limp in his arms!

"Ghh-- M-Marvin -- that is your name, yes? Y-you have to-- hhh…! Work with me here! I cannot-- ngh! C-carry you on my own!"

Marvin was trying everything within his willpower to get his limbs to cooperate with him, but they seemed to flat-out refuse. He felt numb from the chest-down. It was getting harder and harder to suppress the growing panic.

"I-I can't move my legs," Marvin quickly got out, eyes blown wide. "Gods, I-I-- I can't move anything! I can't move! What's happening to me?! Gods, what's happening to me?!"

Paralysis? Henrik mentally questioned. That is not a good sign. "Okay, okay, I am setting you down now." True to his word, he propped Marvin up against the couch and crouched down beside him. "Take deep breaths for me, yes? You will be fine. Just relax," he soothed. He even went as far as to take deep breaths along with Marvin -- which actually helped to clear his own racing mind. Once he saw that Marvin had calmed some, he nodded and hummed. "Good, good… now, can you tell me what symptoms you are having?

"I-I can't move my arms or my legs. I feel numb everywhere," Marvin explained, residual panic still present in his voice.

"Are you in any pain?"

"My head… and my stomach, but it doesn't feel sore anymore. It feels more upset than anything else... M-my foot should hurt because I fucking stubbed it on the table but I-I can't even feel that."

"Any other symptoms?"

"I'm still dizzy… the room's spinning. It's… it's making me feel nauseous, actually…" Marvin closed his eyes and took labored breaths. Keeping his eyes shut helped quell the dizziness, which thankfully also aided in easing the nausea, and he'd much prefer it if he could avoid throwing up again by any means possible. Especially since for the time being, he was unable to move.

"Hm…" Henrik reached out, feeling up Marvin's neck. "Lymph nodes are not inflamed…" he mumbled to himself. But then, he stopped up short. "Marvin, are you aware that there is a… a cut on your neck?"

"Hm? No, I was not..." Marvin's brow furrowed in confusion. "That's a bit peculiar… I didn't notice any sort of wound, or even any marks on my neck while I was in the bathroom."

"Well, is very small, so it would be hard to notice unless you looked closely. I… normally I would not pay any mind to small cuts and bruises but... a cut on the neck is not a normal place to have a cut…"

"Hm…"

"Jackie mentioned you were attacked…" Henrik brought up, worry flashing ever-so-briefly in his eyes.

Marvin knew immediately what Henrik was alluding to. And after a very short moment of recalling the events of Antisepticeye's ambush, he knew exactly how it happened.

"That… glitch. He had me at knifepoint. Pressed the blade to my neck and threatened to give me a matching scar if I moved even an inch."

"So he cut you, then?" Henrik asked, shifting as if he were about to stand up.

"Not intentionally, no. When Jackieboy Man took out the glitch's... puppets, I had a brief window of attack. I took it, and in the process I believe he nicked me when his arm swung away due to the recoil."

"Alright, so was not planned… good." Henrik nodded, looking away. He actually rose this time, letting out a breath. "Marvin, I… I have something that may help. Is an experimental drug and I have not tested it yet, so I need your consent to administer it. But I believe it is our best bet."

"Whatever you plan on giving me, I'm certain I've drank far more dangerous potions," Marvin huffed humorously. "Hit me with whatever you have. If you think it helps, I'm completely fine in taking it. Just, please… help me regain the feeling in my body."

Henrik nodded wordlessly before heading for the hallway and rushing down into the basement. Chase jumped as he heard the door suddenly swing open and pulled back the curtain shielding him and Jack, peeking out to see Henrik frantically rushing around the room.

"Henrik? Woah, dude, what's wrong?"

"Not now, Chase!" Henrik snapped. "I explain later!" He made a beeline for a cabinet filled with medicines of all sorts. He sifted through bottles and vials, growling when he couldn't find what he was looking for. He cursed under his breath, mentally scolding himself for losing such an easy-to-spot drug, when he remembered where he put it. With a roll of his eyes and a smack of his palm against his forehead, he sought out a small cooler by one of the desks in the room. He opened it and pulled out a vial with slightly-glowing green liquid in it. Closing the cooler, he set the vial delicately on the desk, steadying it so it wouldn't fall, and went to grab a clean needle, a disinfectant wipe, a band-aid, and a fresh pair of medical gloves. Now that he had everything he needed, he grabbed the vial of medicine and hurried back up the stairs, praying to whomever that might be listening that this worked.

"Alright, Marvin, I have it," Henrik notified, quickly crouching beside him. He set the needle and vial down on the coffee table and began to unbutton Marvin's shirt. Once one of his arms were free enough, he opened the pack of wipes and began to wipe down his upper arm, right below the shoulder. He then reached behind him to replace the used wipe for the medicine and needle and stuck the syringe into the vial to fill it. Finally, he set down the now-empty vial on the coffee table and flicked the syringe a few times to make sure there were no air bubbles in it.

"Alright… I would tell you to hold still, but…" Henrik huffed humorously, "Well, it seems you have no choice, yes?" He stuck Marvin with the needle, slowly injecting him with the medicine.

Marvin watched (or at least, tried to, as he was still dizzy) as Henrik administered the medicine. His eyes then widened as he saw every vein in his body begin to pulse with a green glow.

Henrik placed the band-aid over the area where the needle had stuck Marvin, then rolled up his sleeve and looked down at his watch, softly counting the seconds. Marvin closed his eyes to combat the dizziness and listened to him count, and as Henrik did so, slowly he felt his body begin to regain feeling. At around fifteen seconds he could move his fingers and hands, and by thirty he was able to move his arms and legs. By then, the glow had subsided.

"How are you feeling, Marvin?" Henrik asked.

Marvin swallowed thickly. "Still… still nauseous and dizzy and my head still aches, but I can move again. Thank you, er…"

"Henrik," he supplied. "Henrik von Schneeplestein, but "Henrik" or "Schneep" works fine."

"Right. Thank you, Henrik."

Just then, Henrik and Marvin turned their heads at the sound of the door to the basement stairs opening.

"Hen…?" Chase asked reluctantly, nearing closer. "Everything good up here?"

"Yes, everything is fine now. I am sorry I snapped at you, I was in a rush."

"What happened?"

"Marvin was suffering from paralysis. At first I was afraid he hit his spine on the edge of the coffee table when he fell, but it turns out he had a tiny, little cut on his neck from you-know-who's knife."

Chase slowly nodded, growing wary. "He's… he's not gonna turn, is he?"

"No, with the medicine, he is fine. I had to act quickly before it could advance any further in stage. You know how short the window is, yes?"

"Y-yeah, uh, that's why I asked."

Marvin silently absorbed all this information. It made sense; before Antisepticeye gained control of his "puppets," they all had fallen limp onto the ground. Whatever he'd done to them caused instant paralysis. Because the nick he'd given Marvin was small, however, it took a lot longer for him to be affected.

"Henrik, are you at all versed in alchemy?" Marvin inquired.

"No, I am not, actually," Henrik answered. "But we, um… used to live with someone who was. He was kidnapped and we have been looking for him since. He is the one who came up with the formula for the medicine I just gave you. One of the ingredients was a plant only he knew how to grow, and he would not tell us the name of the plant in case the information got into the wrong hands -- at the time, the house was not fully protected and we could never know who was listening."

"I see."

"Yeah, our plan was to fuck around with the medicine's dosage and the ingredients to make something to wake Jack up. You-know-who is responsible for Jack being in a coma," Chase interjected.

"Er… who is Jack, exactly?"

"Jack is our close friend," Henrik answered, his voice having a slight tinge of sadness to it. "He is also our "patient zero," as it were. He was you-know-who's original host before he took on a physical manifestation of his own."

"So… he's like a parasite, then?" asked Marvin.

"That's the thing. We dunno what the hell he is," Chase said. "Fuck, we just learned today that he isn't even alive!"

"Plus, as of recently, he no longer requires a host to survive. He has evolved himself past that. He is always changing in some way, shape, or form."

"How odd…" Marvin mumbled.

"Yes, very," agreed Henrik. "Jackie's mission once you-know-who is taken out is to take with him a large enough batch of an improved version of the medicine I just gave you and give it to everyone who has become his puppet."

"What's wrong with this version?"

"It is not strong enough, to put it simply," Henrik answered. "As I mentioned before, this is an experimental batch and I have not tested it. However, based on the formula, the dosage I gave you is only supposed to be enough to fend off the beginning stages of his corruption. Had I let it progress any farther, I would not have been able to save you. The window is very, very short, only about five minutes or so after you start displaying the initial symptoms. That is, if you have managed to escape him alive at all. But usually the wounds he inflicts are enough to kill, anyway. Apparently, however, the smaller and more shallow the wound, the more time his "toxin" needs to act. I would do a test study on this, but is far too risky."

Marvin simply nodded, understanding, absorbing all the information presented to him.

"You are lucky I had some of that medicine. The batch is very small and we are trying to conserve as much of it as we can until we can find our missing friend."

"What is the name of this friend of yours?" Marvin asked.

"JJ," Chase answered, his expression matching his voice. Grim. "Jameson Jackson. He was… he was like a son to me." He rubbed his arms and sighed, looking away. "I wish I could do more to help look for him…"

"Chase, I keep telling you that you do plenty!" Henrik argued.

"Yeah, and you and I both know that that's bullshit," Chase shot back, eyes narrowing at him. "I can't fight. I don't have any strength. I don't have powers like JJ did or Marvin does or medical knowledge like you do or intelligence like Jackie has. I have nothing to offer except my fucking car. But god, I swear, if I had powers, you bet your ass I'd be out there every single fucking day looking for JJ."

Henrik huffed. "Then maybe it is for the best that you do not have powers. That way you do not get yourself killed searching day and night."

"You do not need powers to make yourself useful," Marvin spoke up. He swallowed, holding a hand over his stomach. It felt fine for a little while as they were speaking, but now it seemed to be upset again. He took a slow breath and continued. "Maybe it is a bit... hypocritical for someone with powers to be telling this to you, but… my words have truth to them. Sometimes it is… it is those who have no powers that are the most helpful. Usually, they are the ones behind the scenes, keeping everything afloat. If…" he took another breath, shutting his eyes. His headache was worsening. "If all you had was everyone on the front lines and no support, your team would go down rather fast. Take my shows for example. Yes, I'm the one doing the performing, but without the crew behind the stage, I would have nothing."

"I… yeah. Yeah… I understand…" said Chase finally, rubbing his arms and looking down at his feet.

"Are you okay, Marvin?" Henrik asked, watching his change in demeanor.

Marvin had gone to taking slow, deep breaths, a hand slowly rubbing his stomach. He shook his head. "N-no… I feel sick… D-does that medication have any side effects?"

"I do not know. Like I said, I have not tested it."

Marvin just groaned in response, clenching his jaw slightly.

"Do you need a bucket?"

Just the thought of throwing up made Marvin's stomach protest. He lurched a bit and one of his hands rose, suspended in midair, waiting to see if he needed to cover his mouth, eyes wide and almost confused. He quickly nodded.

"Scheisse." Henrik quickly moved, as if he were going to rise, but Chase stopped him.

"No, you stay put. I got it." Chase hurried over to the closet under the stairs, searching for the mop and bucket. Once he found it, he left the mop behind and rushed over with the bucket, handing it to Marvin. He took it gratefully.

"Thanks," he muttered. He adjusted himself, leaning over it and closing his eyes. He took deep breaths, shuddering as the faint yet potent odor of cleansing chemicals slightly stung his nostrils.

"Yes, that's it. Deep breaths, Marvin, there we go…" Henrik comforted him, slowly rubbing his back. Chase stood by in case he needed anything else.

After a few minutes or so, simply swallowing his saliva became near impossible. Between labored breaths he spit up into the bucket and soon his stomach finally started to revolt. His entire body tensed as he gagged, his free fist clenching, and shortly after did he actually begin to be sick.

"Shhh… yes, that's it, Marvin… just get it up, you are alright…" Henrik soothed. Meanwhile his mind was racing. If this medicine had side effects, he needed to know and mark them down for future patients. So far nausea seems to be one, but at the same time, Marvin was already feeling nauseous beforehand. Still, he figured it would be smart to write it down just in case. "Chase," Henrik spoke up. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Yeah, sure. What's up?"

"Bring me a pen and some paper? I need to make a list of potential side effects this medicine might have."

"Oh, gotcha. Yeah, on it. Be right back."

Marvin felt awful, if he didn't already feel awful before. On top of the returning nausea and newly-worsened headache, his entire body felt sore, every nerve filled with a deep-seated ache. He felt out-of-it and as he lifted his head slightly and looked around the room, he found he was seeing triple. He mumbled something unintelligible before dipping his head back down over the bucket and heaving again.

"Marvin?" Henrik asked. "Are you okay, my friend? Can you repeat that?"

Marvin mumbled again. Even he didn't know what he was saying. He was panting hard, he was having a difficult time breathing, he could barely keep his eyes open… he felt shaky and weak and he didn't even have the brain power at the moment to contemplate what could possibly be wrong with him.

There was the sound of someone coming up the basement stairs and Henrik turned his head in time to see Chase come into view, pen and notepad in hand.

"Yo, got your-- holy shit, what's wrong with Marvin? I was gone for, like, two seconds!"

"I-I do not know, Chase!" Henrik replied, eyes full of worry as he turned back to Marvin. "One minute he is vomiting and the next he is mumbling nonsense at me!"

"He looks, like… really fucking out-of-it," commented Chase. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"I-I…" Henrik hesitated. He honestly didn't know, but… "Yes, I… I am sure he will be fine," he replied, turning back to Chase. "If his breathing issues and nausea persist I might have to administer more medications and have him rest in a bed down in the lab instead of on the couch, just to be on the safe side."

Henrik and Chase both sounded so far away to Marvin. Their voices were muffled so he couldn't understand them at all. He set the bucket beside him. He felt insanely lightheaded, and something in him knew that he wouldn't remain conscious much longer.

"M'gonna pass out…" Marvin mumbled.

Henrik stopped up short, turning back to Marvin with slightly-widened eyes. Did he hear that correctly? "Marvin? What was that you said?"

But Marvin couldn't hear him. He could feel his body giving out on him. Finally, his eyes rolled back in his skull and he slumped to the side, causing a loud thump as his body hit the carpeted floor.

"Marvin?! Marvin!" Henrik scrambled closer and tried to tap his cheek to get any sort of reaction out of him, but he got nothing.

"Holy shit, what are we gonna do?!" Chase cried.

"Chase, go wake up Jackie! Hurry! Have him help you bring my medical equipment up here. Oxygen tank and mask -- he needs more oxygen! Go!"

"O-on it!" Chase threw the notepad and pen on the coffee table and hurried up the stairs, yelling for Jackie on the way. Meanwhile, Henrik stayed with Marvin, trying to get him to wake with no luck.

If the medicine in that small of a dosage was this unsafe to use, then they needed another plan, and fast.

Taglist: @taizu-lazure @bupine @innocent-angel3 @immabethehero @wowowgoodurl @n-anon @g-rexthedino @scarletender @coconutpillow05 @friezzzboiii @jade-orade (some of the tags aren’t working and/or are missing, so I apologize for that. lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist!)

#jacksepticeye #marvin the magnificent #vio stormcaller #stringbound #stringbound chapter 2 #jackieboy man #chase brody #dr. schneeplestein #nausea tw #vomiting tw #near car accident tw #needles tw #fainting tw

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