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morbidanthem · 4 years

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((A/N: I hope this is what you wanted- I made it kinda personal, because I have body issue images myself and this ask kind of made me think about that. I hope you are OK with the platonic romantic relationship I wrote.))

Continuity - Overwatch

Character(s) - Insecure!Reader

Parring - Platonic!Insecure!Reader/ Angela "Mercy" Ziegler

Genre - Angst | Hurt/Comfort

Rating - T for Teen and Up

Warning - Fatphobia

Word Count - 1,137

✏️Written 05/25/20 - 05/26/20✏️ "... Is everything alright?"

It was a very simple question, and yet, you did not have a very simple answer.

In that moment, standing in front of the full body mirror that was in your room, squeezed into a pair of formal dress pants that pulled up over your waist in such an unflattering way… you just… broke.

You turned to look at Angela, you're best friend and confidant, and you just… broke.

"I-I don't… know?" You huffed out, placing a hand over your face to try and hide your tears, as your voice began to shake from all the emotions running their way through your mind.

"I just, I tried so hard… I really did!" You began to shout in an aggressive way, but Angela made no show of nervousness, and did not back down at your display.

"You don’t understand! I literally starved myself! I drank only water for a month straight!" You shouted, as you hunched over in tears, hands covering your now warm and sticky face. "I worked out, nonstop, for weeks! Weeks, Angela!"

You sniffed loudly, as you felt your body begin to shake and quiver as your heart began to beat faster than you could process it.

Angela, again, said nothing as she watched your hunched form with an unreadable expression.

"Nothing I do works! I'll… I'll never look like you." You hissed out in a bitter tone, as you tried to wipe the tears that felt like they endlessly fell from your eyes, as your hands shook so roughly with anxiety that it actually made it hard to steady them enough to wipe away the sting from your sobbing.

"Look at me… Why? Why do I look like this, Angela?" You weeped, as you slumped into one of the chairs you had in the room.

She was a goddess, a majestic queen… You were just a bug, a miserable cockroach who could not even compare.

To make it worse, you must have looked like such a fool to her in this state.

There you sat, a blubbering wailing mess of a human being, topless with nothing but a pair of high waisted dress pants on to barely cover the shame you were trying to hide.

You would have laughed, if you felt up to it, but you didn't have the energy to do much of anything but cry at the moment.

It was funny, seeing someone like you so down on themselves, it made others feel better about their situation.

They could have said, “Hey, at least I don’t look like that guy!” and go about their days while holding their heads up a little higher.

You barely could hear Angela say your name softly, as she knelt down in front of you, a soft yet concerned expression on her face.

"Why must you think so lowly of yourself?" She asked softly, pulling you into an embrace as you continued to weep.

"I'm so ugly, so why does someone like you even want to associate with someone like me?"

It was a very simple question, and yet, you did not have a very simple answer.

You felt her grip tighten around you, as she sucked in a breath through her teeth, as you began to hiccup from the raw emotions you were feeling in the moment.

"You can think what you want, but the truth is that you are not ugly." She began to say. "Nothing I can say will make you think otherwise, but, know that I think you are fantastic the way you are."

"If anything, I should apologize for not noticing it sooner." She sighed, as she pulled away to grab a box of tissues that were sitting on a small end table close by.

"You? What do you have to be sorry for?" You asked, as you wiped your eyes with the plus material, being slightly calmed by the scent of lavender that was infused into the material.

"I am sorry. Sorry, that I did not notice sooner." She spoke with a hushed whisper, it was oddly comforting. "I am your friend, and yet, I seemed to have failed to notice what you were up to."

She placed her cold and steady palms on your warm and flushed cheeks.

It was the most comforting feeling you've felt in such a long while.

"You are the way you are." She said, tilting your puffy swollen face to look up into her sparkling blue eyes.

"Your goals should never be to look like me. To look like anyone. You should aim to be the best you that you can be." Her thumbs began to stroke under your eyes, as she wicked the remaining tears away with her fingers.

"But… what if my best me isn't good enough to impress-"

"Hush now." She spoke sternly, never once breaking eye contact with you. "If someone doesn't love you the way that you are, then they do not deserve your love to begin with. No one is worth losing your body over, this is not the right way to be healthy, just because someone looks good does not mean that they are at a peak performance level."

"Angela…" you were speechless.

No one has ever said anything that remotely kind to you before.

You have always trusted Angela, respect her, and if she could see the value in you… then maybe there really was some value there…

“Everybody is different, and what is healthy and ok for one person may not be healthy and ok for another. It is good to take an interest in changing your eating and exercise habits for the better, but when you get caught up in all of those flashy gimmicks that promise results quickly, well, you can really do some damage to your body.”

She scolded lightly, as she saw what appeared to be understanding flash through your damp eyes. She was glad her message was getting through to you, but right now, she had more important things to worry about.

Like, apparently, getting some actual food into you so that you do not pass out from exhaustion.

"There now, what say you change out of those clothes, and into something more comfortable. I get the feeling you could use a good filling meal." She smiled, as she lifted herself up, while offering you her hand to rise with her.

"Y-Yeah. You are too kind, Angela." You sniffed, as you wiped your face with a tissue once more. “Thank you.”

"Nonsense!" She laughed, as you both embraced, as you felt a smile creep up onto your face. “I am simply your friend, who also happens to be a physician!”

She was the kindest soul you've ever met, and you felt lucky to be as close to her as you are.

She really was a guardian angel.

❤💀❤ Published 05/27/20 ❤💀❤

((A/N: So I had to post the ask like this again, as a screen shot, because tumblr keeps glitching and making the post not work- I am not sure how to fix it, so any other asks I get will have to be like this with a screen shot until it gets fixed.))

#Overwatch #Angela Zeigler #Drabble #Romantic #Hurt/Comfort #Mercy X Reader #Overwatch X Reader #Mercy/Reader #Overwatch/Reader #Long Post

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writing-nebula · 4 years

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Aura: An Unknown Program

Heyyy guys! I’m finally posting this to Tumblr, heh. This is Anti’s perspective of things during Changes and Growth! I won’t say a ton here, but I hope you enjoy the fic! --------------------------------------------- “Chill? This is Anti we’re talking about! Do you not know what he’s done to all of us!?” Anger and fear, so sharp and bitter he felt like he was choking on it.

“You seriously cannot be asking us to be calm around that glitch!” Confusion and worry swirled around him alongside the fear, filling his head and making everything foggy- making it impossible to tell where his feelings ended and theirs began.

“How do I make it stop?” He barely realized it was him that spoke, everything was too loud and hurt and all the emotions were drowning him make it stop make it stop-

I’ll make it stop-

Anti jolted awake and sat up, eyes wide and feeling shaky, those four words echoing menacingly through his head.

‘What was that…?’

He swallowed, bringing a hand up to rub at his neck, though he wasn’t entirely sure why, then took a few deep breaths and shook his head. ‘Just a nightmare, don’t go scaring yourself…’

Thankfully, a distraction came in the form of a knock on the door, and Anti pulled himself out of bed to go answer it, finding himself yawning as he did so. “Is it time for dinner already…?”

The man who had comforted him yesterday- Jack, that was his name- smiled, and Anti couldn’t help but relax at the wave of kindness washing over him, smiling softly back as his nightmare faded to the back of his mind. “Actually, it’s morning. I decided to let you sleep last night, but I’m sure you’re hungry now. Breakfast is downstairs.”

Anti perked up, his stomach growling, “Is there any coffee?” he asked hopefully.

Jack laughed, and Anti decided he liked the sound. “Of course there is! There’s always coffee in this house, it’s the lifeblood of most of us. Marvin also made pancakes, and he makes the best pancakes, you’re in for a treat!”

Even as he agreed and started following the other down to the kitchen, Anti tried to sort out which one Marvin might have been. ‘I think he was one of the angry ones…? But the quieter one, not that one with the hat… Oh, maybe he was the one with-’ Anti stopped dead in his tracks as they entered the room, sucking in a breath and curling in on himself as he realized how thick the air was with dread. He felt sick. It took a few moments for him to realize everyone was staring at him, and when he did he swallowed, glancing around at them nervously. ‘Scared again, why are they scared…?’

“Uh… G-good morning…?” He mumbled it, trying his best not to feel ashamed as well as sick.

The others looked at each other, the one in the hat scowling as they seemingly spoke without words, until what appeared to be the youngest sighed, and smiled at Anti. “Good morning, Anti. Would you like some breakfast?”

It was slow, a little wary, but with that smile came a little buzz of hope, and Anti relaxed a little as the room became a bit more bearable. “Yeah, I'd love some, thanks. Some coffee too, if it's not any trouble."

“Oh yeah, of course!” He summoned the other over with a wave of his hand, and Anti went right over to him, relieved as the young man continued. “I’m Jackie, by the way, nice to meet you properly…”

After that, he had a few hours to himself as everybody went their separate ways after breakfast. Jackie was doing something with Marvin- who, he discovered, was the one with long hair that always felt more nervous or angry than scared- and Jack had to record something. The man was kind enough to leave him his laptop, however, and Anti found himself thoroughly enjoying a different YouTuber named Markiplier, especially the horror games he played.

Now, he paused the video he was currently on, a game called Alien Isolation, and got up from his bed to head downstairs to get some water. Maybe Jackie would be done with Marvin, and they could spend more time together. He’d still been scared of Anti, but… He was trying to be nice, at least.

It turned out he ran into Chase, instead, rounding the corner to find him in the living room, though it seemed the man hadn’t noticed him yet.

“Uh- h-hey, Chase,” he started a little hesitantly, stopping to give the other a little wave.

“Wha- fuck- ” Chase swore as he kicked the coffee table and stumbled, hitting the ground hard and barely avoiding banging his head on the wood. “Oh crap- I-I’m so sorry, let me help you!”

Anti hurried over and held out a hand for the other, grabbing gently for his arm, but the moment he made contact, fear tore through him, so strong he felt dizzy, and Chase ripped his arm away and scrambled back. “Don’t touch me!”

Anti stumbled back, his chest tight as he clutched at his shaking hand, mind a little foggy with the absolute terror that had just coursed through him, but Chase didn’t even seem to notice, sharp stabs of anger assaulting Anti as the other backed away to the other side of the room, clutching his arm. “You scratched me, you little shit- what were you gonna do to me, huh!? Lock me away? Tie me up and torture me!?”

“N-no, wait-” He stumbled over his words, flinching with every one that came out of Chase’s mouth, and hesitantly took a step forward. “I-I’m sorry, I w-was just-”

“Don’t take another step!”

Anti flinched back as the dad’s hand dropped down to the pistol at his belt, and for a brief, blinding moment, he only knew a searing, shattering pain, like his entire body was breaking apart at the seams. And then he blinked, and the pain was gone, and the gun hadn’t been pulled out, just leaving him shaking and feeling heat pricking at his eyes. When he noticed Jack in the room, standing near Chase, he scrambled to explain, not knowing if he could bear the one nice person starting to hate him too.

“I-I’m sorry, I j-just… it was a-an accident, I swear!”

“Like hell it was!” Another stab of anger from Chase, another wave of fear rushing through Anti, though this time mostly his own. “You don’t draw blood by accident!"

“Okay, everyone calm down,” Jack said gently, holding his hands up, then approaching Chase. “Chase, show me your arm.”

Chase shot a withering glare at Anti, muttering something he couldn’t quite hear as Jack inspected his arm, and Anti hunched his shoulders, looking firmly down at the floor as he struggled not to start crying then and there.

‘Why does he hate me so much…? I just wanted to help him, I didn’t mean to scratch him-’

His body buzzed, the weird jolting and static starting quietly again, and Anti bit down harshly on his lip, struggling to pull his pixels back together- Pixels?

“What happened?”

The thought was shoved aside as Jack turned to him, gentle worry cooling over the burns of Chase’s anger, and Anti took a shaky breath, still holding his arm close, a little afraid he’d somehow hurt Jack next. “H-he tripped, and I tried t-to help him up, but he j-jumped away, and I ended up scratching him…”

“So it was an accident? And you apologized?” Jack asked softly, and Anti nodded, not having the energy to do much else.

“Then you did everything you were supposed to. Chase overreacted, is all.” Jack put a hand to his shoulder, smiling, and Anti almost winced at the touch, afraid it would bring the same fear that it did from Chase.

“H-he was scared of me…” Anti mumbled, letting go of his arm to wrap his arms around himself, feeling a strange chill curling in his chest as he voiced his worry. “E-everyone is always scared of m-me, even Jackie… Did I d-do something…?” ‘If I know what it was, I can fix it, and then they won’t hate me anymore…’

“Oh Anti…” And then Jack was hugging him, and he couldn’t help but press into it, the warmth of it stealing his breath away, chasing away the cold as soon as it began.

“No one’s scared of you-” ‘Can’t you feel it??’ “-you just remind them of someone, that's all… You didn't do anything…”

Anti sniffled, not really believing him, but went along with it. “Th-then why does it f-feel so bad…? Why do I feel guilty…?” he hesitantly asked, feeling safe in his arms for the moment.

Jack paused, going quiet, and Anti tensed, comfort shifting along the line to worry again. ‘Did I say something wrong is he gonna get mad too-'

“I… I don’t know, Anti. But you didn’t do anything to them, I promise…”

Anti could only bring himself to nod, forcing himself to relax again, and when Jack pulled back to smile at him, he smiled back, trying to reassure him.

“Wanna play a video game together?”

He blinked, caught off guard for a moment, then grinned, his smile widening. “Y-yeah, sure.”

All in all, after a while, Anti wouldn’t say things were terrible- after all, they were all starting to warm up to him! Jackie spent the most time with him, but sometimes Marvin would give both of them a little magic show, and Henrik occasionally dragged him off to learn how to cook or do basic first aid, so he could patch himself up whenever he got especially banged up from tripping or falling.

Jamie, the mute one who was always only terrified around him, started relaxing, his fear less harsh in the air, and started teaching him sign language. It was so interesting! And sometimes Jack would join too- all of it never failed to make him smile.

And then the nightmares started.

It was small, at first- flashes of pain, of blood, places he felt like he should know but didn’t. He didn’t remember the entire dream, only that something hurt and a harsh, almost painful sense of fear in the air, none of it ever his.

And then the others started showing up.

“Let me go, you fucking waste of disc space!”

Jackie snarled at him, clawing at Anti’s hand tight around his throat, then kicked at the glitch’s stomach and pushed away from him, quickly scrambling to his feet and grabbing a taser from his belt, leaping at Anti with an angry battle cry.

Over and over again, all of them hurt-

“Scheisse-” Henrik swore under his breath as he wiped the blood from his mouth, glaring at the glitch with utter hate in his eyes as his other hand pressed hard against the cut in his side. “Oh, don’t look so smug, you bastard! The others will make you pay for this!”

or fighting him- "Eyes on me, virus!” Marvin snarled, eyes glowing green as he threw fire and painful bursts of light at Anti, almost too fast for him to dodge. “I’ll give you something to laugh about!”

or terrified of him- Jamie stumbled back from the mirror, scared tears in his eyes, and tore desperately at the strings tying themselves around his wrists, struggling to get free, get away from him-

For two months, they had plagued him, only getting worse and worse by the day, and he was so scared of them, he woke up shaking and crying with each and every one, only going downstairs when he was sure he looked normal.

Because he couldn’t tell the others, he just couldn’t- they were only now starting to trust him, starting to relax around him instead of acting like…

Like he was going to attack them-

It was fine, anyway. He could handle it, he didn’t need to bother them with something like this, they could get freaked out, and he never wanted them to look at him like they did in his dreams.

Even if Chase already did.

Even if he always had...

So he resolved to stay quiet about it, pretend nothing was ever wrong- surely they’d stop eventually, and he could just move on with his life… ------------------------------------------------------------

Anti glanced out the window, snickering as he watched the other egos gathering beneath the building he’d locked himself in. Arguing and gesturing wildly- it was so fun to watch them panic~ Schneep wasn’t there, probably trying to stop Jack from bleeding out, and Anti never expected to see Jamie if he didn’t bring the man himself, but he also didn’t see Chase, which was… Strange, considering his new toy.

Heh. Maybe he already gave up and bit the bullet. Speaking of toys…

Anti turned and walked towards the sobbing in the other room, grinning at the young girl tied up there, and crouched down to be at her level. “Aww, what’s wrong, miss your daddy?”

She shrieked and tried to scramble away, tears pouring down her cheeks- she really looked so much like Chase, the little brat. Anti grabbed at her hair and yanked her closer, laughing at the second scream from her. “Well I’m so sorry, sweetheart, but he’s not coming back~! He abandoned you, ran away like the little whiny coward he is!”

He stood up, pulling her up on her own bruised legs, then laughed as he let go and let her fall to the floor with a cry. “Pity, too, I would’ve loved to see his face when I told him all about what I’m going to do to his little princess~!”

Chase’s daughter sobbed and hid her face, shaking in terror, and Anti sighed, almost bored by the reaction. " So predictable… I’ll have to play with you some more later, see what I can get-”

He didn’t hear the gun go off, but he definitely felt it, the bullet tearing through him and scattering his pixels momentarily around the room.

Anti reformed with a snarl, knife in hand as he glared at Chase. “You bastard- ”

“That’s my line, you crazy glitch bitch!” Chase snarled back, gun pointed right at the glitch’s head. “Let go of my daughter, you monster!”

“Never!” He cackled, glitches ripping through him as he advanced on the dad. “I’ll make sure she’s soaked in your blood by the end of the day!”

Anti bolted up from his bed so fast he thought he was going to fall out of it. His chest was tight, suffocatingly so, and tears rolled down his cheeks as he struggled to breathe, unable to make even a sound. ‘That was- sh-she was- a-and Chase-’

No. No. No.

It was just a dream, it wasn’t- it couldn’t be real, it was just like all the others, it was just-

Wetness dripped down his shirt. Blood. Blood from his neck. He barely choked back a terrified whimper and grabbed for his blanket, yanking it up to press against the bleeding cut and hoping, begging for it to stop, for everything to go back to normal.

“Let her go you fucking monster!”

Just a dream. It was just a bad dream, it had to be.

Anti squeezed his eyes shut, fighting against the glitches wracking through his body, and stayed there, shaking and gasping for air, until his neck stopped bleeding and he didn’t feel lightheaded from fear and the static tearing through him. The glitch stood, a little shaky, and stuffed the bloodied blanket under his bed before going over to the small desk in the room, checking his reflection with the laptop Jack had given him a month ago. He grimaced- he looked like shit, bags under his eyes and the scar across his neck red and irritated.

‘...They’re expecting me for breakfast, I can’t just skip…’

He took just a couple minutes to clean himself up, and to change his shirt to something that wasn’t stained with blood, then took a deep breath and forcefully shoved the nightmare to the back of his mind, just like always. ‘Just a dream. It was just a dream, none of it was real.’

He wasn’t sure if he believed himself anymore.

Anti hesitantly entered the kitchen, pleading with whatever force was listening that the others wouldn’t notice anything was wrong- for people seemingly numb to the emotions plain around them, they were far too good at reading him. Alas, he could never be that lucky.

“Anti? You okay?” That was Jackie, looking up from a sizzling pan, and Anti jumped despite the gentle tone, it being all too easy to remember full of anger and pain.

“O-oh, uh-” He couldn’t tell them, how would they react if they found out? How could they be okay with him if they knew what he kept dreaming about?

“Anti…?” Jack stood up slowly, about ready to head towards him, and Anti swallowed. Jack’s concern, usually soft and calming, made his stomach churn with guilt, like he’d actually done all those things he kept dreaming about.

What if I did-

“S-sorry,” he managed, smiling a false smile and hoping that was enough to calm them. “I guess I’m a bit jumpy…”

“Did you have a bad dream?” Marvin. He was always angry in the dreams, fighting him and never afraid.

Just like that day he appeared-

“Something like that…” Anti muttered shakily, and went to get a cup of coffee before sitting down, sipping it silently in hopes that nobody else would want to talk to him. ‘What if they know about the dreams and they’re afraid I’ll act on them? Did they know this was gonna happen, is that why they all hated me at first?’

“Do you wanna talk about it…?” Jackie asked quietly as he sat down, though Anti wouldn’t look up to acknowledge him. “It's better to not keep things bottled up…”

Anti peeked up, feeling the guilt burning in his gut again as he looked at all the others, and his throat tightened, his mouth felt dry. “I…”

“How about you have this conversation with people who actually care?” He flinched back at Chase’s words, the dad’s anger ringing in his head so strong it made him feel dizzy, and he shook his head slightly, struggling to focus on anything besides it. ‘Does he hate me because he already knows? Does he get them too?’

“One of these days, he’s just gonna go back to the Anti we know!”

Anti’s head snapped up, eyes going wide as he stared at the now standing Chase, pain and hate radiating off of him as he yelled at Jack.

The Anti they know?

“Do you not know what he’s done to all of us!?”

The anger.

“What were you gonna do to me, huh!? Lock me away? Tie me up and torture me!?”

The fear.

They’d all had it, right from the beginning, even Jack- though he did his best not to show it, it was impossible to ignore when the feelings dug into him like a personal attack.

And all at once, it made sense.

They weren’t dreams- they were memories. His memories. Antisepticeye’s memories.

They were still yelling, but Anti barely heard it, instead staring blankly down at his hands as time seemed to stop. ‘I hurt them. I tortured them, I attacked them, I tormented them-’

‘I hurt Chase’s kids. I hurt him in every way I could think of. Of course he hates me, why wouldn’t he?’

He wasn’t sure when he started shaking, or when he started glitching, because nothing could overpower the guilt coursing through him as it fully sunk in. ‘Oh, god- I-I tried to kill them, I r-ruined their lives-’

“-sorry, I’m s-sorry…” He choked it out as he stood abruptly and backed away from the table. He flinched as he felt everyone’s eyes turn to him, and all he could imagine was that they knew, and now they’d realize he knew and they’d kick him out or lock him up and- and-

Anti wrapped his arms around himself in a feeble attempt to keep himself together, and barely bit back a sob, voice shaking with the effort to not collapse entirely. “I-I’ll just… G-go back to m-my room, ‘m sorry…” I’ll lock myself up please I’m sorry- just please don’t look at me like you used to-

And with that, he summoned up the once confusing power that had always buzzed beneath the surface, the one he could now control as easy as thinking, and glitched away, back to his bedroom where he could pretend they were safe from him.

The glitch fell back against the door, covering his mouth as the dam burst and ugly sobs tore from his throat, his chest so tight he felt he would pass out as he curled up right there on the floor.

No wonder they had all hated him, always been so afraid of him, he was-

“I’ll give you something to laugh about!”

“You’ll pay for this!”

“You fucking waste of disk space!”

“Let go of my daughter you fucking monster!”

...a monster. Taglist: @egopocalypse ( @amyxmiaplay - I noticed you seemed pretty excited when the last chapter got posted. Let me know if you wanna be added to the list or if you don’t want to be tagged!)

#writers of jack #awakened aura #antisepticeye #chase brody #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #jameson jackson #dr schneeplestein #jacksepticeye #brief mention of injury #brief child injury

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beerecordings · 5 years

Note

Um, if that was a prompt for us to send things in, "Go on. Try to run." with whoever you choose?

okay..... i’m real proud of this one... thanks for the prompt, sid :) can you feel the American patriotism????? (because our nature scenes are the only thing we have going for us anymore???) anyway someone take a road trip with me

also sorry again i can’t get the read-more to work.... I know this post is long af. please tag it “long post” if you reblog, ty ty

Edit: not tumblr fucked up the spaces too, so there’s these *** instead of spaces. i am confusion.

tws for vomit mention, blood, implied character death, and car crash

***

He moves through the shadows of the mountains at his brother's side, curled up against the window of the shitty 2002 Dodge Neon they stole from a rancher's backyard at three in the morning, trying not to nightmare.

He dozes instead of sleeping, suspended in awakeness by the rapid thud-thud-thud of the vibrating window against his skull.

“Turn the radio on?” he asks drowsily, readjusting and putting his jacket against his head.

JJ pushes the power button on the radio and flicks through the channels, bypassing Mexican music complete with a joyful grito, hypermasculine country trash, the top 40s station, and an orchestral piece featuring an celloist going absolutely ham on Shostakovich's Symphony Number One before landing on a talk show about the declining white rhino population in Southern Africa.

Not what Chase would have picked, but he'll forgive his little brother's eccentrism for the relief of a voice to listen to.

“Two female Northern white rhinos live at the Pejeta Conservatory in Kenya, and today, they and the rest of the world are grieving a terrible loss – the death of the last male Northern white rhino, Sudan, who passed away last Monday at the ripe old age of forty-five.”

“That's sad,” Chase mumbles, rubbing his face. Fuck, he's hungry. Maybe he'll wake up after all. Sitting up in his chair, he heaves out a deep sigh and glances over at JJ, who doesn't even bother to nod, his exhausted eyes fixed on the road.

“You should let me drive next.”

Jameson shakes his head, shifting uncomfortably. His fingers are gripped very tight on the steering wheel.

“The loss of the Northern white rhino species has been sudden and devastating. In 2015, five rhinos lived in captivity, and there were hopes of babies being born to help save the species. But now, only two of the rhinos remain, and it seems their death warrant has been signed by the loss of Sudan.”

Chase glances out the window, where proud tall trees rise towards a fervently blue sky, heavy with spring greenery. Their car curves down a winding road through a rocky mountainside, spitting gravel off the side of the cliff as they speed along towards their destination.

What destination? Chase wonders, watching the light of the sun play along the surface of a quiet blue lake miles below them. Where can we go that he will not find us?

“Hey, any beef jerky left?”

Jamie shakes his head again, glancing over at his brother. A flicker of his old warmth wakes up in his eyes as he meets Chase's gaze, his twin in tiredness.

He takes his hands off the wheel long enough to sign, “Stop soon.”

“Okay.”

Chase reaches into the back and grabs Jackie's blood-stained backpack off the floor, taking out his journal one more time. He doesn't expect to find anything that will help them anymore.

He just misses his brother's handwriting.

“I think I'm getting paranoid,” reads the soft, scrawling script their brother left behind. “I can tell that he's coming. I can always tell. The glitches, Jack's condition. Sometimes I think Marvin can sense it too, because I hear him awake late at night, coughing on too much magic, full up on restless energy. I know I'm being overbearing, telling them all to stay close, trying to stop Schneep from going to work. I can't get him to stay home. I'm just scared Anti will take him away first. He works regular hours now and it's not safe. Anti could find him. Anti could find Jack. I don't want to be an ass. I just want to keep them safe.”

Chase swallows back tears – he's getting used to that burn at the back of his throat – and flips dully through the rest of the journal. Here are Jackie's notes on Anti's powers, signs of his oncoming appearances, what he's done in videos, what he seems to want. None of it was enough to save them.

If only he had been a little more overbearing.

“There used to be many Northern white rhinos, living happily throughout Northern Africa in large numbers. But the reason for their decline, and now, near extinction, is all too clear – poaching has led these innocent creatures to their end. Even now, the two remaining Northern white rhinos must be protected around the clock, wary of hunters at all time.”

“Can we listen to something else?” asks Chase.

“Today, we grieve the loss of this magnificent species, once a proud and numerous symbol of their homeland. With only two remaining, how can they expect to survive?”

JJ turns the radio off.

***

Chase peers up at the dawn sky from beneath the windshield, his eyes flickering between the dead highway before them and the breathing morning stars above him, glittering in the faraway satin of a bright pink sunrise.

“Some parts of America are really so pretty,” he says, wistful. Brown and black horses move past their car, watching from the hills and nudging their colts around with their noses. “I wish we were just on a roadtrip instead of on the run, you know? We could go somewhere nice. Camp out or something. No, never mind. Camping sounds miserable. We'll get a hotel and wander all the cities we like. Schneep always talked about traveling.”

He takes a sip from the caffeinated gas station soda in the cup holder beside him and then glances over to grin sadly at his brother, but JJ isn't looking. He sits with his head in his hand, frowning out the window, pale in the wan yellow light of the morning.

“Hey, you okay?”

No answer, but it's hard to have a conversation when Chase is supposed to be watching the road. And Jamie hasn't talked much lately anyway. Hardly at all, really. He just clings to Chase's side and glares at passersby in silence, his hand shoved into his pocket at all times. Chase is pretty sure he's always holding a knife these days. He never looks happy. He never looks safe.

Fuck, he'd just about kill to see him smile again.

Chase takes a deep breath and swallows down a burning at the back of his throat, reaching out to rub the back of JJ's neck roughly.

“Look, bud,” he sighs. “I know how hard you're trying to protect me, but I wish you'd look after yourself a little better. It's just you and me now, you know? And that – that isn't easy, but if we're going to survive... we both need to survive, right, man?”

JJ doesn't turn to him. The sunrise makes him pastel in blue and pink.

“I love you,” Chase adds. “I'm really glad you're here, J. What would I do without you, huh?”

He smiles and gives his brother another affectionate clap on the shoulder, adding a playful tug on his ear, trying to get him to look at him.

And Jameson turns and he is weeping.

“You'd be much better off without me,” he signs, and then he breaks down completely, slumped against the dashboard with gasping sobs trembling their way out of his mouth.

“Fuck,” Chase can't help but spit out, reaching out to leave a hand on his brother's back as he slams the brakes hard and drags their exhausted little car onto a quiet gravel shoulder, where only fence posts and sparsely forested grasslands stare back at them.

Chase unbuckles and gets out of the car, moving to Jameson's side and pulling open the door. After that, all he knows to do is reach out, gentle, and grab JJ's hand, ferocious.

He hasn't seen Jameson cry in weeks. He has been steel and defense, gritted teeth and deadened eyes, since what happened.

“Tell me what's going on,” he says.

“What's going on?” JJ demands, yanking his hand away. A magpie calls a reprimand to the trees, her black head shining with the golden light of the oncoming day. “Let's stop pretending there's any relief to be found in this, Chase. In escaping. In running. In fucking off to another country and wearing baseball caps low over our eyes and pretending the internet doesn't exist. In driving all day and all night, in grieving from the front seat of a stolen car, in never seeing home again.”

“Fine,” snaps Chase, gripping his hand and leaning closer. “Fine, there's nothing good about this. Does that make you feel better? There's nothing good about this situation.

Except you.”

Jameson stills, sniffling sadly and wiping harsh at the salt on his cheeks.

“You're all I got left, man,” Chase murmurs, putting his other hand on his shoulder. “You're everything. And I'm tired of seeing you so... quiet. Listen, I'm in grief too. You've heard me crying often enough to know. But if we're going to survive, we have to survive together. I need you healthy. Or as healthy as you can be. Capeesh?”

JJ looks up, his mouth trembling, and gives Chase the smallest nod.

“Tell me what's wrong.”

Jameson is pale and exhausted, thin with bad eating and long nights of running, hollowed and hopeless and lovely, lovely as he has ever been, a blue-eyed boy with a softness in his face and power in the lines of his hands. Chase brushes a curl of hair from his brother's eyes, his fingers drifting over the curves of his face.

“It's my fault,” says JJ.

“Oh, buddy – ”

“No, it is, I mean it, it's all my – it's all my fault.”

“Don't say that, Jays. It's not true.”

“I was supposed to be watching Schneep.”

“You did everything you could.”

“Jackie and Marvin went to protect Jack, and I was supposed to watch Schneep, I was supposed to save Schneep, I was supposed to – ”

JJ collapses onto Chase's shoulder, weeping so hard he can barely breathe. All Chase can do is hold him, hold him close and cry out, “You did everything you could. You did everything you could. It's not your fault you were the last line of defense.”

And this is the truth, but it makes nothing better.

Jameson Jackson did his best. Fought his best. Loved his hardest.

It was only enough to save one.

And he's afraid – afraid to the core of his being, afraid down to his trembling heart – that, soon enough, it will no longer be enough to save Chase either.

“I love you,” says Chase. “And you and I? We're going to find some happiness again, someday, okay? Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday. You deserve that much.”

Jameson stares back at him, reaching out to clutch his hands. Slowly, wearily, he lets his watching eyes slip shut, and rests his head on Chase's shoulder.

They sit by the side of the road for a long time. The cicadas are singing in the trees.

***

The stars watch over them.

Or maybe they're just watching.

Chase can never tell anymore. Everything feels like a threat these days.

"On the road again," he hums, bouncing his leg and trying to entertain himself by tapping his fingers against his knee. "Oh, I can't wait to get on the road again!"

He pauses, glancing over at JJ.

"That's not true," he admits, and Jameson looks back at him warmly, giving his fine blue eyes a quick roll made visible by the ugly yellow overhead light they flickered on for comfort in the dark.

There's no one else out here. They take back roads when they can.

"What state are we in?"

Jameson frowns, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel thoughtfully before offering Chase a guilty look of surrender.

"You don't know?"

"Maybe P-E-N - "

"Penis, my favorite state, perfect."

Chase gets a punch in the arm for that one. Worth it.

There's a little more fire in JJ tonight, he thinks. He hopes. Maybe it's because they spent more than they should have on dinner to get little ice cream cones for dessert, or maybe there's just been enough time passed that Jameson's paranoia is settling down, but one way or another, he's hoping to see some joy on his face soon. If he keeps cracking enough dumbass jokes, he can get him to smile, can't he? Surely there's some happiness coming their way at some point, considering that the universe has been well and truly fucking them over for the past four weeks. Surely.

Chase glances around for wood to knock on, but he can't reach the trunks of the heavy forest zipping along past their window. The headlights illuminate a warning sign on the side of the road before them, neon yellow with the black form of a deer printed on its surface, and Chase jerks back as he accidentally meets the gaze of the enormous grey owl sitting atop it.

"These woods are creepy," he complains.

"Sleep," suggests JJ authoritatively, pushing Chase's shoulder.

"Hey, you sleep," Chase grumbles back, pushing his shoulder back. "Maybe we could - oh, shit! Is that a CD case?"

His enthusiasm makes Jamie flinch, but a second later he is watching with interest as his brother rifles hurriedly through the pages of the CD holder, laughing louder with each disc he lays eyes on.

"Al Green - Frank Sinatra - holy shit, both discs for the Order of the Phoenix audiobook. You want to listen to some fucking Harry Potter?"

"No."

"Aw, come on."

"Those were Marvin's favorites!"

There's a pause. Chase stares over at his brother. Jameson stares over at the road, pale with distress.

"Yeah," says Chase eventually. "He was a real nerd for this shit."

He gets punched in the shoulder again, but Jameson's eyes are affectionate. Chase grins and adjusts in his seat, crossing his legs in front of him.

"You remember that time he set the kitchen on fire?" he asks.

Jameson blinks, his mouth twitching. "Which time?"

"Ha ha! The time I was cooking a whole goddamn turkey in the oven and he sent everything up in smoke? Schneep stepped into the house, took one look at all of us screaming and trying to put the fire out, and walked right back out."

Jameson snorts, loosening his grip on the steering wheel. Yeah, he remembers. He remembers laughing.

"But that was also the day Jackie came home so badly hurt," Jameson reminds, drawing his hands away from the wheel just for a second.

"Yeah, well, that one was his fault. He never could resist a fight with a guy twice his size. I don't know if you ever heard this - it was before you were created - but he once got his skull busted open by some asshole with a whole mob of lackeys, woke up in the hospital after four days of being comatose, and went out that same time to get his revenge."

"He did not!"

"Oh, he so did. I think that was the only time Schneep ever followed through on his threat to lock him in his room."

Jameson's mouth twitches. He glances over at Chase with an eyebrow raised and then looks back to the road, sighing a content sigh.

Warmth blooms in Chase's chest like the sunflowers along the side of the road. Then the silence drags on for too long and he decides to take drastic action.

"I'm putting one of these CDs in."

"Don't put one of those CDs in!"

"I'm doing it, you can't stop me, I'm - " Chase yanks Sinatra's top hits out of its case and moves for the CD player. Jameson intercepts, shoving his hand out of the way.

"Those all look terrible! I don't want to listen to any of that!"

"Sinatra!" cries Chase, laughing almost too hard to fight back.

"No!"

"Yes!" With a final, determined gesture, Chase slams the CD into the player and turns the volume up.

Jameson shakes his head at him with faux irritation, his eyes shining warm in the ugly light of the car.

"Some day," sings Sinatra, low and wavering, and Chase lets out a whoop of delight. "When I'm awfully low... when the world is cold... I will feel a glow... "

"Just thinking of you!" Chase sings along at the top of his lungs. Jameson shakes his head, trying not to smile, the corners of his mouth edging upwards. "And the way you look tonight!"

"You're so cheesy," says JJ, glancing to the side as a deer leaps through the trees, startled by the headlights. "Such a dork."

"Hey, you're the dork, dapper man."

"Yes, you're lovely!" cries Sinatra, with passion. "With your smile so warm and your cheeks so soft! There is nothing for me but to love you."

"And the way you look tonight!" Chase finishes, breaking down into giggles.

It's one am in Eastern time and this abandoned back road is taking them towards whatever state it feels like. They're in the middle of nowhere, hiding but together, tired but alive.

That's all that matters.

A smile spreads like a sunrise across Jameson's mouth. Chase hollers his delight, only making Jameson laugh harder, leaving them both shaking in their seats, overwhelmed and full of warmth, loving and united, brothers and- there is a man in the middle of the road -

"Jameson!" screams Chase, and his little brother's hands grab the steering wheel and pull -

***

“Fuck,” whispers Chase, awakening.

Copper-taste sits in his mouth like poison and he coughs, pain racing through his chest and blood dripping down his lip. Confused, he lets out a soft whimper and tries to sit up, but his seatbelt, crushed tight against his chest, does not allow it.

He's grateful for it, too. Without it, he'd be dead for sure.

There is an arm in front of him too.

His little brother's arm, shattered.

“Jameson,” calls Chase, blinking warm blood from his eyes, trying to see in the darkness.

Jamie is a black silhouette beside him, unmoving.

“Jameson!” he cries again, struggling to breathe.

This can't be happening. They can't have survived this much only for a freak accident to take his last brother from him. Please, God, this can't be happening.

He unclips his seatbelt and shifts in his seat, crumpling against the dashboard and splitting blood onto its grey plastic surface. Through the shadows, he makes out the figure of the ancient tree currenly mashing faces with their stolen car.

They swerved off the road, into the forest. They are miles from civilization. They have no phones. Phones are unsafe. Anti, after all, utilizes internet signals and electricity the same way cowboys utilized horses.

Chase reaches out to touch Jameson's shoulder. Fumbling beside the steering wheel, his fingers find the light switch, yanking it up, and, to his enormous relief, one of the headlights resumes its duties, illuminating the creaking forest all around them. Something scurries away through the bushes.

Jameson is slicked in blood. He rests against the red glass-stained window of the driver's seat, as still and as white as the bones of a deer.

No, this wasn't an accident.

This was someone's fault.

“Hey, asshole,” howls Chase, tumbling out of the side of the car. His fingers dig into earth and twig and worm in the damp floor of the forest. “You've hurt my little brother! Come down here and help us! Why the fuck were you standing in the middle of the road?”

He remembers vaguely the dark shadow of the man, a cold form dressed all in black, with a hood drawn over its head, but he cannot see it now, cannot even make his eyes focus on the road.

“With each word, your tenderness grows...”

Chase startles, staring back at the car. He realizes, at the intersection of confusion and abject terror, that the CD player has just turned itself back on again.

He is a stiffened stag on the side of the road, unable to move, unable to breathe.

“Jameson,” he whispers, and turns away from the figure on the road. He takes it all back. He does not want the man to come down here. He does not want his help.

He crawls to Jameson's side, vomiting blood and his last meal as he drags himself towards his little brother and staggers to his feet, grabbing at the seatbelt that holds him in place.

“Tearing my fear apart,” sings Sinatra, growing louder. “And that laugh wrinkles your foolish heart... Lovely, never ever change...”

And then Chase sees the black-hooded figure of the man, standing close, beside the tree that connected with their car. His jeans are ripped and there, on his breast, a mockery – the letters “PMA” scrawled out in angular font.

“Jameson,” begs Chase, yanking desperately at the seatbelt, unable to get it loose. He scrambles to find a pulse in his neck instead, but his shaking fingers give him no hopeful reply.

“Keep that breathless charm! Won't you please arrange it?”

The CD display glitches.

Chase screams aloud, biting at the seatbelt, choking on the outcry of his broken ribs, hunted down at last, found at last, discovered and destroyed, alone. Finally, he manages to yank loose the seatbelt, but it means nothing. Reaching out to drag him away, he sees that Jameson's legs are crushed by the indent in the car, trapping him better than if he were chained.

Whimpering and gripping at his hair, Chase falls back. Anti is closer now, close enough to touch him, standing still by the engine of the car. His blue and brown eyes are like those of a cat's in the darkness, and Jameson is the rabbit he has caught.

And Chase understands that he cannot save his little brother.

But he could save himself.

“Go on, Chase Brody,” whispers Anti. “Try to run.”

His voice does not glitch. His body does not spasm. This is his victory, and in it not a single flaw is visible or spoken aloud. He has the perfect corpse to contain him.

“Please,” whispers Chase, touching Jameson's hand. “Please.”

“Don't beg after you've put up a fight for the first time in your life,” purrs Anti. His brown eye brightens slowly to green, glowing through the darkness. His hands are stuffed in Jack's hoodie pockets. “The two of you actually managed to evade me for quite some time. Don't you want to get away, Chase?”

He intones the name with a deep sarcasm, grinning around the ironic sound of it.

“I'll even let you run,” he promises. “I've started to enjoy this most dangerous game, hunting the two of you down across the country. You even slipped my vision once or twice. If you run now, I'll give you a two-day headstart, how does that sound? You might even be able to escape me.”

Chase's ribs are broken, but with adrenaline coursing through him, he thinks he could run, or at least stagger back to the highway and wait for help to come. He's got two hundred and forty dollars worth of cash shoved into his pockets, enough to keep him eating for a few days. He could hot wire another car. Escape the hospital before they could bill him. He could live.

“No. No. Not without him.”

Lost and desperate, terrified and resigned, he gives up the idea of escape and does the only thing he can think of – he crawls into the seat beside Jameson, wraps his body around him, and tries to protect his body from Anti.

Jameson is motionless beneath his hands. His face is split into sections of blood and protruding bone. Chase looks down at him and begins to howl, despair exploding through the cheap dam of optimism that has kept him alive for the past four months. Jameson only bleeds in reply.

“If you're going to kill us,” whispers Chase. “Then kill us.”

The stars are watching. Deer creep through the trees, wary and glorious, their eyes shining in the dying glow of the headlight. Here under the trees of the forest, Chase has found his ending.

He's ready to see his brothers. Ready to see Jameson happy and the others unharmed.

He closes his eyes and pictures their smiles, warmer than sunlight, lovely and golden, filling the land of salvation like milk and honey.

They are beautiful and wonderful and joyous, and he sees them now before him.

“Cause I love you!” sings Sinatra, and Anti strides forward, pulling the hood back from Jack's face. “Just the way you look tonight.”

#chase brody #antisepticeye #jameson jackson #writers of jack #jse egos #sorry i can't get the 'keep reading' to work!!!!#it's really annoying #long post #bee writes #tw vomit #tw car crash #tw blood #tw character death

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