Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jeremy didn’t want to go on the summer trip with his family. He knew it was a stupid place to put his foot down, and he knew that it made him sound spoiled, but it didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want to go. Most kids from Boston would kill to get to go spend five weeks on what was basically a beach, regardless of whether their family was there or not. And that was exactly the problem. His family wasn’t going to be there. 

It’s not like he could really complain about it to his friends, either. They’d always shoot him bored glances, seeming mildly irritated by his lack of interest in something that sounded so fun. 

“I mean, it’s been a couple years,” One of them had told him once, looking away as if already regretting what they were about to say, “you’ll find other people you get along with there. Isn’t basically everyone there your family?”

And Jeremy supposed that was true. Sure, his boring aunts and uncles who were there at every event, and had been going for what seemed like the past two hundred years would be there. But his older brothers wouldn’t be. Most of them were old enough that they didn’t really care about how interesting Jeremy’s summer was, choosing instead to stay in Boston and work, or stay with their stupid families, or do some other stupid shit they wouldn’t explain to him. He barely got along with most of them, but still. It sucked.

His brother Thomas had always gone, even though he was five years older than Jeremy. Technically, he could have stopped going the summer when he’d turned eighteen, and Jeremy was only thirteen. Thomas claimed he didn’t have anything better to do, but Jeremy caught him writing letters an awful lot, as if he’d had someone back home that he missed. So he’d probably been lying. At least he’d gone. Not like it mattered anymore.

Well, to be entirely fair, Jeremy had one brother going. Henry was seven years older than him, and at twenty four, he was the most successful out of the eight siblings. He’d graduated college with good grades and a large friend group, and he had a wife and a son to get back home to.

Jeremy genuinely had no idea why Thomas would sacrifice part of his summer to come to some stupid ass island where nothing fun ever happened. I mean, there wouldn’t even be an assassin game this year! Everything was going to suck, and even with Henry there, he was going to basically be alone without Thomas.

A pang of sorrow stabbed him in the gut, and he frowned, suddenly recalling that conversation with his friend. Even if it had pissed him off, maybe they’d had a point. He could make other friends. People used to say he was the most outgoing of his siblings, even if that seemed like a diplomatic replacement for ‘annoying’ sometimes. It couldn’t be that hard to be loud again. It used to come naturally to him, after all.

Jeremy glanced down at his lap and picked up his pencil, remembering the instructions from his art teacher. She’d told him to draw some things on the trip, specifically while they were driving. She wanted him to get better at capturing…he didn’t remember her exact words, but it was something about ‘the bigger picture.’ If you’re speeding past something, you don’t have the time to slow down and draw all the small details. You need to focus on the shape, the outline.

He sketched a few of the landmarks they were passing, wishing he’d remembered this task earlier. The pencil flew across the page as he tried to capture the things he was seeing. An old brick building right next to a stop sign, a lake with a log cabin near it, an ugly statue in the middle of a town. Some quiet part of him wished he had more time to sit down and truly draw everything despite his teachers instructions, and another louder part of him wished that he had his colored pencils. But he didn’t. Oh well.

The one upside of this whole stupid trip was that he’d have a lot of free time this summer. Since they hadn’t gone last year, he’d gotten a summer job in a diner. It was miserable and didn’t pay a lot, and he’d gotten in a lot of trouble after only a few weeks. That wasn’t fair, though. She yelled at him first. Whether or not it was his fault didn’t matter in the end. He was fired, and it was hard to find work for the rest of the summer. Nobody wanted to hire some kid from the poor side of Boston with a track record for getting in fights both inside and out of school.

Jeremy couldn’t bring himself to tell his Ma that he’d gotten fired, though. She was so proud of him for getting a job, and whenever Jeremy pictured the face she’d make after finding out…he just couldn’t. It was fine, though. See, he’d been giving about a quarter of his paychecks to her and hiding the rest under his mattress. So he just set aside some of the cash he’d been hiding for her. Whatever.

Ma coming home and seeing him wasn’t a problem, though. Most of his summer was spent running around town with the few friends he had. And the rest of his time was spent at track practice. All in all, that summer had been busy and miserable. But being busy was better than being idle. At least it kept his mind off of…certain things. 

Jeremy found himself absentmindedly sketching, giving up on his summer assignment. He focused on it after a minute, as if he didn’t already know what he was creating. A picture of what he knew was going to be a bedroom, an overturned chair in the center. How could he draw anything else? That haunted his mind every time he closed his eyes. 

All of a sudden, he felt sick. He slammed the sketchbook closed and practically threw his pencil onto the seat next to him, deciding that he needed a distraction, no matter what form it came in.

“Ma, how much longer do we have?” Jeremy asked, leaning forward in his seat. She glanced in the rearview mirror, then looked outside. They didn’t need road maps to make this drive anymore. As far as he could remember, she never had. Her family had been going on this vacation longer than he, or any of his brothers, had been alive. 

“Twenty minutes 'till the ferry.” She answered. Jeremy sighed, leaning back. Every year at the welcome back dinner, there were many complaints from their other family members about how long their transit time was. So he was well aware that they had it easy, but come on, it was still a three hour drive. Plus, even after they were done with the car portion of the trip, they still had the ferry. That was always boring as fuck, and he got seasick easily.

The rest of the car ride was silent, punctuated only by the sound of Jeremy rolling down the window next to him and rolling it back up. And the sound of Henry telling him to knock it the fuck off. 

Damn, he couldn’t do anything, could he? Fucking whatever. He watched as the trees rolled by and the landscape changed as they finally finished the longest part of the drive to their destination. 

Jeremy’s Ma pulled into a parking spot, and handed him some money. “Once you get the tickets, come right back, understand?”

Both of them knew she hardly even needed to ask anymore. This had been the routine for as long as he could remember. It was hard to find a parking spot close up to the stand, and Jeremy liked running. So it was a win-win.

Jeremy nodded, shoving the door open and clambering out of the car. There was a big open stretch of grass leading up to the ticket office, and it looked the same as it had for years. It was almost comforting. Maybe it was a sign? Everything else in his life would change, but the ferry and the farm could remain the same.

For some reason, he always started out walking. Maybe because Thomas always did, then without a word, the two of them would break into a run, racing up to the front. Thomas always let him win.

He was getting a good stride, finally finding that familiar comfort in his feet hitting the grass when someone appeared in front of him.

Shit! Jeremy didn’t really have another option if he didn’t want to hit him. 

He dove sideways, landing hard on his shoulder. It was normally easy to roll and stand back up when he did that, but he’d landed a lot harder this time. 

After giving himself a second to catch his breath, he carefully stood up, and looked at the person he’d almost ran over.

The guy was still staring at him. He was wearing a hat and these weird sunglasses, and he had long-ish brown hair. He looked kind of dumb, but it wasn’t his fault that Jeremy had almost run into him.

“Uh, sorry.” He mumbled, kind of embarrassed, before he took off again. Honestly, he didn’t think that guy was gonna talk even if he’d given him a chance. 

It was a short run to the ticket stand, and the line was thankfully shorter than it normally was. The ferry seemed to be getting more expensive every year, and if Ma had been there, she would have told him about how back when she was young, it had been so much cheaper. But whatever, it wasn’t Jeremy’s money. He paid and started on his way to the car.

As he walked, the memories of his former trips here came back. He tended to look around the lot for familiar faces, but this year most of them had taken the ferry the day before. Jeremy and his family would be late. But hey, at least they had a house guaranteed. There were supposed to be a lot more people attending this year than there usually were for some reason.

Well, not for some reason. There was going to be a memorial for Thomas.

Jeremy’s eyes locked on his Ma’s car, and he ran over to it, rapping on the window. She smiled at him as he pulled the door open, climbing into the backseat. 

“I got the tickets,” Jeremy said, holding them out in between the front seats. Henry had finally woken up, and he snatched them, handing them to Ma. He glanced back at Jeremy, clearly intending to say something, but getting distracted by his appearance.

“The fuck did you do, roll around in mud?” He asked, looking him up and down. Jeremy looked down at his shirt, grimacing slightly as he realised he was covered in mud and grass stains.

“Hey, no! I was running. And I…fell. Into mud.” Jeremy didn’t want to mention the guy for some reason.

Henry laughed, throwing his head back in a way that was almost reminiscent of Thomas. The three youngest siblings didn’t have the same dad, but as they all got older, it became harder and harder to tell them apart. 

There were a few ways to tell them apart, though. 

Thomas had worn his hair long, Henry was a couple inches taller than both of them, and Jeremy allegedly had his father’s eyes. 

Not that he’d know, since he’d never met the bastard.

He didn’t want to either. That man had left them, and Jeremy swore that he’d break his nose if he ever met him. His mom deserved better than that.

But Jeremy could swear that sometimes he walked into his house and his mother looked at him like she was seeing a ghost, her eyes going wide and her breath catching in her throat.

It wasn’t clear whether his resemblance to his brother or his father was the one that was upsetting to her.

Maybe it didn’t matter.

She pulled the car from the parking spot and navigated to one of the waiting lots.

This part was always so boring, it seemed like it took forever for the ferry to finally come. But after about an hour, they finally got onto the ferry.

Jeremy got out of the car, weaving through the rows of cars with a plan to make his way up to the top deck, where he’d hopefully be able to find a place to sit. He got seasick easily, and walking around the deck just made it worse, but he always felt like it was worth it after he found a seat and saw the view.

Even though the ship was crowded, the path to the stairs was practically muscle memory. He wasn’t a very polite person, but he found himself mumbling apologies to people he bumped into. The crowds cleared slightly as he climbed the stairs.

Jeremy stopped abruptly when he reached the first open space on the top deck. Are you fucking serious? This guy again ?

The man he’d almost ran over, the one with the hat, was standing at the railing, clutching it with both hands and staring out into space. So they were definitely going to the same general place. Huh. I mean, that didn’t mean they’d see each other. There were a lot of people in that area. But still…

Jeremy kind of wanted to go stand by him, maybe say hi. Before he could, someone clapped a hand down onto his shoulder and he jolted back into reality, turning to glare at his brother.

“Why’d you run off so fast?” Henry asked, grinning at the way Jeremy reacted.

“I wanted to get a good seat,” Jeremy answered, gesturing around at the chairs, which to be fair, were mostly empty. It was a good excuse. “C’mon.” He led the two of them over to a bench, sitting down. 

He didn’t ask where their Ma was. 

She normally stayed on the bottom deck and went through the collection of letters that she kept in the glovebox of the car. He was pretty sure she thought it was a secret, but as far as Jeremy knew, all of his siblings knew about it. There was just a silent agreement not to talk about it or go through it.

The eight of them rarely agreed on anything, but they all knew she’d been through enough, and she deserved that one bit of privacy.

Sitting on the top deck of the ship with Henry was…awkward. 

Jeremy and Henry rarely spent time together, and neither of them seemed to know what to talk about. 

With Thomas, things had seemed a lot more natural. They were closer in age, and they spent a lot more time together, so they knew how to talk to each other. Thomas was well aware that Jeremy liked talking more than him, and he’d let him lead the conversations. 

But with Henry, it was like everything had gone all wrong. 

That wasn’t entirely Henry’s fault, though. Jeremy was unusually quiet, his thoughts drifting off to track, then to running, then to how he’d almost run into that guy. 

He didn’t realise he was watching him at first. The man seemed to sense eyes on him and turned, seeing Jeremy. He offered him a soft smile before turning away again, and…

Jeremy pushed away the thought before it even fully formed, crossing his arms.

“What are you looking at?” Henry asked, looking over after Jeremy moved.

“..Nothin’.”

Henry was quiet again, examining Jeremy’s expression, following his gaze straight over to the railing. “Are you watching that guy?” 

Jeremy shook his head. 

“No, uh, why would I do that?” He asked. 

He definitely was watching that guy, even though he hadn’t been doing it consciously. The guy just happened to be standing in the direction he was looking. Nothing Jeremy could do about it, y’know?

Henry scoffed, watching the guy. “He looks like a queer. Hope he’s not heading to the same place as us.” 

Jeremy didn’t respond, just sitting quietly. If he’d been Thomas, he would have said something, told him to shut the hell up. Not that he was attached to the dude or anything, it just wasn’t a very nice thing to call someone you didn’t know. 

That’s what Thomas sternly told him the one time Jeremy had called someone that in front of him. 

But then again, Jeremy wasn’t Thomas, and Thomas wasn’t here.

Henry did seem to sense that Jeremy was unhappy with what he’d said, rising to his feet and walking away without another word, not even a ‘bye.’ Whatever.

Jeremy’s gaze was still trained on the ground, but he looked up after a moment and saw the man watching him again, an unreadable expression on his face. 

Jeremy smiled back at him, but the guy frowned slightly and turned away, back to the sea. Oh fuck, he’d probably heard Henry. Fuck.

A wave of nausea washed over him, and he stood suddenly, walking away from the chair as if he was in a trance. He descended the stairs and got halfway back to his mom’s car before he remembered. 

She was going through the letters. Fuck, he couldn’t bother her.

It took a minute of looking around to orient himself. To be fair, this wasn’t the first year where he hadn't been able to sit on the top deck, it had just been a while.

He wandered away from the car and found a bench by the bottom of the stairs. Thomas had hated heights, and he’d sat here almost every year if he couldn’t brave their seat on the deck. It was comforting, honestly.

Jeremy could wait here for the rest of the ferry ride. It shouldn’t be much longer, anyway.

After about ten minutes passed, he got up again. His mom was probably done looking through the letters now, right? Hopefully Henry was already back so he wouldn’t have to go hunt him down.

Jeremy walked back to his Ma’s car, stealing glances at the land they were quickly nearing, the ferry propelling them through the water. He knocked on the passenger side window, Henry’s head whipping around to face him. He didn’t speak, though. 

Neither of them did. 

He pulled the door open and sat down.

Less than an hour later, they were much closer to the Farm, and Jeremy could feel his excitement from earlier returning.

It wasn’t exactly a farm anymore, it hadn’t been for about thirty years. It was a collection of houses spread across a sprawling plot of land.

Despite the presence of what felt like a gaping hole in his heart growing with every second, he felt a strange sort of comfort. 

Thomas had loved it here on the farm. He would have wanted Jeremy to come back, even if he wasn’t there. 

Being back was stitching up the ripped patch in his chest, and it was making things feel like they were okay again. Maybe not all the way okay, but more okay than they were before.

The car finally made it to the gravel road that marked the home stretch of the journey. 

Even though it wasn’t night yet, the road was shady and a canopy was formed by old trees, so Ma slowed down. Sometimes deer would run out of the woods, and she didn’t want to risk hitting anything.

This road was Jeremy’s favorite part of the farm, honestly. At night, it was nearly pitch black, and the road stretched on for nearly a mile. It was a common dare between younger members of the family to walk down it at night without a flashlight. 

He’d done it all by himself when he was twelve, and again when he was thirteen, Thomas by his side. 

Thomas had said he was too afraid to go alone, but Jeremy was pretty sure his brother hadn’t believed that he’d gone, and had wanted proof.

It was almost a rite of passage in the family to make that trip. In one of the rare pieces of information Ma was willing to share about Jeremy’s father, she confessed that he’d accompanied her down that road once.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Good thing he didn’t need to think much more about it, though! They turned a corner and there it was. The first house. 

The gravel road stretched onward, making a big loop around the whole farm, but they weren't gonna have to go any further. This was their destination.

Jeremy grabbed his bags from the trunk, pulling his backpack over his shoulder. He smiled to himself, almost proud. He’d grown since the last visit, and was finally old enough to carry all his things by himself. 

Not that anyone was there to offer help if he’d needed it, but hey! A win is a win, right?

He walked up the path to the front door, his footsteps crunching in the gravel, and his joy faded away.

Being near the house was…suffocating. The farm had been like all of their second home, and he was starting to remember their past trips, things he’d forgotten. 

He was drowning in memories.

Jeremy normally raced Thomas up to the house, where the key was kept under a flowerpot. 

Now, he tilted the flowerpot and groped underneath it for the key, coming up victorious after a couple of seconds, trying to ignore how badly his hands were shaking.

Thomas used to take the key from him even when he successfully got it. The lock had been weird and finicky, and you had to try pretty hard to get the key to fit into it.

Good thing somebody had changed the lock since the last time they’d been there.

They’d race up to their shared room and fight to claim the top bunk, both siblings hopping over the squeaky first stair. Thomas always let Jeremy win. 

He didn’t bother to skip the first stair. The creak echoed in the hall, and he just ignored it. What was the point of skipping that stair? He wasn’t racing anyone.

He trudged down the hall to the bedroom, and finally looked around, feeling that same nausea from the boat make its return. 

He needed to leave. 

He dropped his bags on the floor of the bedroom, tugging the door closed after him. 

“Ma, I’m goin’ on a run!” No reply came, but it didn’t matter whether she heard him or not. Around here, it was common for older teenagers to disappear for almost the entire first day as they went to greet people. 

For Jeremy, who had trouble sitting still, this was just tradition.

He cut through the kitchen, flipping the latch on the back door and running outside. It was warm, but not suffocatingly hot, like always. He wasn’t exactly in designated running clothes, but he normally wore a t-shirt and shorts on car trips, and those would be fine.

Jeremy broke into a jog, running into the forest. There was an old path worn into the ground. It had been there for years, and the two people that lived on the farm year round maintained it.

He pushed away the thoughts of his brother running down this same path a few years ago, showing him the way to get to an old tree stand he’d been begging to see.

Fuck it, why not? Jeremy turned abruptly, slowing down to a jog as he started down a slightly overgrown path. Yeah, that made sense.

“Nobody comes out here ‘sides me anymore,” Thomas had said to him, slowing to a stop under a tree. Jeremy had looked around, confused, but following his brother’s gaze, he looked up. Oh..

There was a ladder made of wooden planks nailed into the wood, and a small platform up in the branches. “Don’t try climbing it, I’ll bring a knife out here soon and check if the wood is rotting.” 

He’d never gotten a chance to do that. For the first time all day, Jeremy truly felt like crying.

“Are you following me?” An unfamiliar voice drawled, and that feeling crawled back into the dark recesses of his mind, being replaced by an unwelcome sort of shock.

Jeremy looked around, eyes wide. What the fuck?? He didn’t see anyone, but..well. 

He turned his gaze upward, and saw a head leaning over the side of the deer stand. And who else would it be but not the weirdo that he’d almost run over this morning. He wasn’t wearing the hat, though, so points for that.

“Uh. No. The fuck are you doing up there?” Jeremy asked. 

He wasn’t sure if the ladder could honestly support his weight, but fuck it. This guy had made it up, so he could too. Jeremy began climbing, pausing when his head was poking over the boards and they could see each other.

“Hiding. I dunno if you’ve noticed, but it’s sorta crowded around here.” He had an odd accent. 

As Jeremy climbed up the rest of the way, the boy moved back a little. He looked about the same age, but he was still wearing the hat, and he’d added a pair of normal person glasses since they’d last seen each other.  

“Around there, at least.” He gestured vaguely off into the woods, and Jeremy glanced over his shoulder.

“You’re in the tents?” Jeremy guessed, assuming that they were probably in that direction.

The boy shook his head. “Nah, I’m in the lake house. My parents are friends with some people who come here, and I just wanted to get away.”

“Yeah? Who?” Jeremy asked. The boy smiled lopsidedly.

“Asking a lot of questions for someone who doesn’t even know my name.” He noted.

Jeremy rolled his eyes, but he didn’t feel insulted. It was kinda funny. “Okay. So what’s your name, then?”

“Mick.” He answered.

“Cool. I’m Jeremy.”

Chapter Text

Mick honestly wasn’t sure what to think of this guy. From what he could gauge from their few encounters, he seemed friendly enough. Even if he’d almost run him over earlier at the parking lot, he’d apologized. That was a step in the right direction, and it really seemed like it had been an accident. He didn’t seem to have bad intentions, or if he did, he didn’t wear them on his sleeve.

The one thing vexing him was that he just wasn’t sure what to think of the conversation he’d overheard on the ferry. On one hand, it was obvious to anyone with a pair of working eyes that Jeremy and that guy were siblings. They had the same eyes, the same nose. Hopefully that was where the similarities ended, though.

If they had even a hint of the same personality, Mick’s time on this island was apparently going to be miserable. He was perfectly aware that being a queer wasn’t exactly normal, but he still felt weird, strange in a way he couldn’t put into words whenever he heard people talking like that. It hurt a part of him that he hated. He wasn’t supposed to be that vulnerable, but here he was.

“He looks like a queer. Hope he’s not heading to the same place as us,” that boy had said, scoffing. The remark echoed across the deck of the boat.

Mick heard it. Of course he had. He spent half of his time in the woods, perched in a tree stand not dissimilar to the one he was in now, listening for the creaking branches and crackling leaves that would hint to something nearby. Of course he’d heard the snarky remark Jeremy’s brother had made at his expense.

And of course he was used to it. People always said things like that, it was half the reason he wanted to get away from home this summer. But now, here, it stung even more for some reason. These people didn’t know him, didn’t know anything about him. But they looked at him and spotted that somehow. Maybe it was something in the way he carried himself, something that he’d never truly be able to rid himself of, no matter how hard he tried.

Mick wasn’t sure if it was worse to have people you didn’t know making fun of you than it was people you did. It was pretty awful either way. But thankfully, there was one saving grace. Jeremy hadn’t actually agreed to what his brother had said. So maybe he was okay. Maybe he would be nice.

“So…who are your parents friends with?” Jeremy asked, clearly impatient for an answer to his question.. Mick smiled despite himself.

“Ludwig and Mikhail,” Mick answered. Something shifted, Jeremy’s eyebrows raising a little bit. He couldn’t tell what the expression on the other boy’s face meant, so he elaborated. “Misha? You know them?” He asked.

“Uh. Yeah, I know them. Kinda.” Jeremy said. He was making his best effort to not reveal what he was thinking, carefully avoiding Mick’s gaze as he tried desperately to come up with an acceptable answer. He stared off into the direction of the creek.

Despite his best efforts to hide his thoughts, Mick frowned at him. “What?” He shifted, sitting up a little straighter. Jeremy noted in the back of his mind that he was getting ready to move if he had to. “You don’t like them or something?”

Jeremy shrugged. He knew where this was going, as inevitable as the sun rising every morning. No point in waiting, then. He spoke, his voice nearly robotic. “My brother said they’re weird. But I don’t know them that well. He could be…he could be wrong.”

It was quiet for a little too long, the silence practically suffocating him. Then Mick responded, his voice even quieter than it had been before, nearly swept away by the sounds of the leaves and brush rustling around them.. “The brother from the ferry?” He questioned hesitantly, clearly wanting the answer to that to be ‘no.’

Jeremy paused a little too long trying to come up with a better answer, and Mick rolled his eyes. Yeah, whatever. That made sense. 

“Riight.” He dragged the word out. “Okay.” The boy stood up, not bothering to spare a glance towards Jeremy or speak another word. He climbed down the ladder and walked away. Jeremy put his head in his hands. Shit.

Henry had to ruin another thing for him without even being here. Again, Jeremy could practically hear the voice of Thomas whispering through the trees. He’d tell him to apologize and try to make up with Mick. But would he even forgive him?

Mick stalked off into the woods, admittedly not entirely sure where he was going. He was just annoyed. That was the last time he’d make a mistake like having any faith at all in someone he’d just met. Of fucking course he ended up trapped on an island with someone like that. He felt stupid. 

Even if it had obviously been wrong, he’d had a feeling that this guy was cool. Funny.

After wandering for about ten minutes, he came across a weird sort of shelter, a tarp draped over sticks and branches, covered in leaves. It wasn’t very far off the path, but there weren’t any actual markers here to show that something was hidden out in the forest. Huh. He poked around a little, moving closer to it.

The tarp was clearly a few years old, starting to decay and tear. And he’d guess that the sticks were probably rotting by now. Almost everything about this little shelter indicated that it was abandoned and unloved. But the leaves had clearly just fallen, and some of them even looked like they’d been pulled from branches and tossed onto the roof to repair what they could without stealing the love that had clearly been poured into it.

He looked around. There was nothing as far as the eye could see in either direction. Great. Mick didn’t exactly believe in ghosts, but he did believe in private property. And this seemed like something that someone else cared about. Maybe they visited it a lot. Or maybe they didn’t.

Either way, he raised a hand to shield his face as he caught sight of the sun dipping lower in the sky.  It was probably around four. He could get back to the cabin, at the very least. Dinner would be around five, and there was apparently an announcement coming then.

Might as well head home.

Between Mick storming off and the beginning of dinner, Jeremy had come up with a plan. It wasn’t a very good plan, or a plan with more than one step. He was going to ask Mick if he could sit with him, and he was going to apologize. And if it didn’t work…well, there was nothing he could do, then.

This would have been so much easier if he’d talked earlier, wouldn’t it? Maybe it was his own fault for not saying anything when he’d had the opportunity. But no use dwelling on something that didn’t matter. That was over now, and he’d lost his opportunity.

He walked out to the picnic tables, looking around and scanning for his target. He saw a few people he recognised, and a few more waved at him. It was stupid, but he waved back.

Surprisingly, he didn’t feel out of his element at all here. Something about the paths on the farm had stuck with him for the past couple of years. He’d slotted back into place among them quite easily, but there was still a gap somewhere, one between him and the people he’d used to have a home with. The only thing that was missing was a crater in the shape of his older brother.

It only took a minute for him to spot Mick, and he took a deep breath before walking over to the table he was sitting at. Maybe it was more akin to hiding, honestly. It was the table Thomas had always planted himself at, off in the corner but still within the view of the stage. “Hey.” He greeted, keeping his voice quiet.

Even though Mick had undoubtedly seen him approaching, he still took a second to look up from his food, idly poking at it with a fork. “You need something?” He asked, his tone guarded. 

Jeremy did his best to not make a face. He’d never been one to apologize to people. He’d always been brash and loud and rude, but…he knew how to admit when he was wrong. Even if, ironically, he’d never admit that . During the lengthy pause, Mick looked back down. There had been a lot of silence between the two of them so far. Jeremy hoped that if this went well, that wasn’t common. 

He liked something about Mick’s voice. And luckily for him, he spoke again, even if it wasn’t anything that was particularly nice to hear.

“Right. Maybe you should..” Mick trailed off, not really sure where to go from there. It was clear he didn’t want to be outright mean to Jeremy, even if he probably deserved it. That thought, however unexpected, jolted Jeremy back to reality. Right. This was mostly his fault.

“I..uh. I wanted to apologise.” He mumbled, his voice softer than it normally was. Mick looked back up at him again, his eyes widening a little. “I’m sorry. Henry didn’t like them, I’ve never met them.” 

Jeremy was starting to give up on his mission of sitting with Mick. This was starting to feel like it was just causing a problem for both of them. “Yeah. Uh, sorry. I’ll go.” He said, and turned to leave. There was another pause, which, yeah, he’d been right earlier was apparently going to become a pattern. Great.

But something about this whole situation sparked something within Mick, and he sighed, speaking up as he decided to take pity on the near stranger. “Hey. You can..sit with me. If you want.” He said shortly.

Jeremy turned, hanging back a second. He rocked back and forth on his heels as he carefully avoided the other boy's piercing gaze. It had been years since the last time he’d bit his nails, but he found himself tempted right now.

“You sure?” He asked. Mick shrugged. Even though Jeremy wasn’t very sure he was being honest, there weren’t many other options if he didn’t want to go through the world’s most upsetting conversation. To be honest, that was probably going to happen anyway. He might as well wait as long as possible for it.

Mick was the only person here that didn’t know about Thomas. And even that tiny bit of mercy was shadowed by the ticking clock of fate, the inevitability that someone around here would let something slip, or he’d look a little too closely at a family photo, and wonder where the boy that looked like Jeremy was. 

Jeremy wondered that himself sometimes. Everyone did, he was certain. It had taken him a while to figure it out, but it was a stupid question. 

Thomas was dead.

Without really thinking about it, Jeremy sank into one of the chairs, his eyes staring off into the distance. The silence was oppressive, neither of them particularly wanting to talk to each other. Mick could tell something was going on with Jeremy, and he didn’t want to interrupt that. And again, he didn’t really want to talk to him. 

On the other hand, as soon as Jeremy grounded himself, he wanted to talk to completely pull himself out of this terrible mental state he was trapped in. He just didn’t know about what. So he latched onto the only thing he could come up with off the top of his head.

“Are Ludwig and Misha coming?” He asked after a moment. Mick looked over at him again, his expression carefully blank, crafted into a still mask concealing his emotions. Huh. Jeremy knew how that felt. Maybe he really was right to seek out Mick to apologize.

“I don’t know. Why?” He asked, clearly expecting a certain answer, even before anything had been said.

“I..want to meet them?” Jeremy asked. It felt like Mick’s stare was an x-ray, seeing straight through him and his secrets, even the thing he was trying to hide the most. And something inside of Jeremy hated that, even if he didn’t exactly know why. Some sort of instinct as old as time itself, to protect himself and hide from his weaknesses.

Jeremy balled his hands into fists, trying to build up the wall inside him that he’d been carefully constructing since he’d lost Thomas, trying to hide his deepest secret.

And it seemed to work. Mick relaxed. “I’m not sure. They said they normally don’t come to these dinners, and they already know about the announcement.”

At that, Jeremy perked up, the same way he had earlier when Mick had offered his name. “Yeah? You know what it is?”

Mick threw his head back and laughed for some reason, drawing a few eyes over towards them. Jeremy didn’t care about the people looking over, watching, recognising him. His eyes were locked firmly on the other boy, and for a moment, his guard dropped, and he found himself thinking just how nice Mick looked. 

Then he shut that thought down, shoving it deep within himself, hiding it from himself, and from Mick, and from Henry, and from the ghost of his brother that constantly hovered over his shoulder, judging him.

Mick didn’t laugh for long, even if some secret part of the other boy wished he’d laugh forever. He  looked over at Jeremy and smiled. “Nope. Guess we’ll find out soon.”

The two of them talked a little bit, but not much was said, neither wanting to offend the other. They exchanged polite small talk, the painful awkwardness keeping both of them quiet most of the time.

Maybe twenty more minutes passed before a squeal came from the microphone, ringing out throughout the air. Jeremy winced, looking up towards the makeshift stage where he wasn’t surprised to see Tavish. 

Out of everyone on this farm, Tavish was one of a select few Jeremy would probably voluntarily interact with right about now. He’d been close to Thomas, but had never treated Jeremy as just a younger version of his brother like most people had. He’d treated him like his own person, and had been kind after Jeremy’s first year playing came to an end in a classic ambush.

Tavish had won the assassin game quite a few times, and he’d approached with a strategy that had taken everyone off guard the first year he’d emerged victorious. 

It was genius, really. Most people stuck to classic weapons, mostly just water guns. Tavish had carried around water balloons in a backpack for a week, tossing them at his targets. It had worked the first few kills, and by the time that word had spread, he’d taken out so many that it didn’t matter. He’d switched it up during the showdown, concealing a handgun behind a tree and taking out the final competitor while staring directly at them. 

He’d been the talk of the town for a month or so. And then the accident had happened, and he’d emerged with a missing eye and a hand clutching a cane, and the discussion switched to that.

And then Thomas had died, and Tavish had emerged from that with a fondness for alcohol (really more of a dependence on it), and nobody faulted him for it. He’d been through terrible things. But people tried not to talk about it.

Whether that was out of respect for Thomas or for Tavish, Jeremy wasn’t really sure. But still, he was making an effort today. This was probably the most sober he’d been recently, if he had to guess. 

Tavish took a deep breath before speaking, his eyes searching the crowd for something. He didn’t find it, and Jeremy had enough. 

He knew exactly who Tavish was looking for, and he wished that he’d, that everyone would just come to their senses and realize what Jeremy had long ago. That Thomas wasn’t coming back, and he never would.

Jeremy rose to his feet, walking as calmly and quietly as he could towards the woods nearby. He curled up on the forest floor, hidden in the shade of the trees. And that’s where he was when he heard the announcement, the sound creeping out towards him, quiet but painfully clear.

“..a few years since we’ve played. And for Thomas, we’re playing again.”

There was probably more to the announcement, but the ringing in Jeremy’s ears grew too loud for him to hear. Oh, god. Everything was collapsing around him. Nothing was right anymore.

He stood up to wander, recognising that he needed to stand up, needed to move somewhere. He followed a path carved deep into his memory. He reached a small clearing, and he smiled at the small shelter within. Of course someone had come out here to mess with the leaves. Probably his mom. Or Tavish.

He remembered building it with Thomas, curling up under the tarp during a thunderstorm and listening to the rain fall. He remembered watching Thomas fall to the ground after Tavish pointed the gun at him to win the game.

Thomas had gotten back up a few minutes later. But he’d fallen again in less than a year, this time forever.

The thought of trying again felt weird. But he could. He could try for Thomas.

He could fight for Thomas. 

Maybe, just maybe, he could even win for Thomas.

And that thought is why he found himself outside of Misha and Ludwig’s cabin a few hours later. He knocked twice, and the door swung open almost immediately. A large man stood there, and Jeremy realized suddenly that he did recognise this man. And this man clearly recognised him, his expression shifting to confusion, then grief, then understanding.

“Jeremy?” The man asked. The boy in front of him nodded, and he remembered just how young this child had been the first time they’d met. And even during their encounter before this, he still looked young, even though that was much more recent. He seemed so much older now, trauma and tragedy aging him. “Ah. You are here to see Michael?” 

Jeremy raised his eyebrows, mouthing ‘Michael’ to himself. He’d figured that Mick had to have been short for something, but that wasn’t even that bad of a name. Well. It wasn’t great. Huh. He nodded.

The man he recognized as Misha nodded too, moving out of the way. “He is upstairs.”

Jeremy had no clue where the stairs in this place were, but it turned out that didn’t matter. He barely made it twelve steps into the house before Mick appeared from seemingly nowhere, a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Are you here to ask me to ally with you?” Mick asked, a wry smile on his face.

Jeremy didn’t have to answer before Mick interrupted. “Right. Well, we can talk outside. I was going to the lake, if you want to come with me.”

Chapter Text

The two of them wandered out to the lake, Jeremy mostly leading the way. Although Mick was considering migrating out here, he’d explained that he didn’t really know how to find the lake, or at least he wasn’t as familiar with any of the shortcuts that Jeremy could walk in his sleep. 

Once they’d gotten into a rhythm, the two of them had lapsed into silence. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, streaking the sky with pink and orange. The familiar chorus of frogs and grasshoppers was starting to fill the air with a thrumming sound. Occasional melodic chirps from birds would break through, but never for long.

The lake was one of the best spots on the farm, in Jeremy’s well-educated opinion. He’d spent most of his summers trekking the land, and honestly, even during assassin, the lake was hard to beat. It was well worth the risk of getting attacked. From where he was standing, he could see straight out to the ocean, the stream rushed by them, and a narrow strip of sand separated the far end of the lake from the sea.

“I’m sleeping in a camper.” Mick said, breaking the silence between the two of them. “I might move it out here. To the lake.” 

“A camper?” Jeremy asked, trying a new approach to making friends that he called ‘letting Mick lead the conversation.’ He’d been under the impression that Mick was probably sleeping in a tent, or something like that. Not that he’d said anything to lead Jeremy to that conclusion, it was just that the other didn’t seem like the kind of guy to stay in a house all the time.

“Yeah.” That wasn’t exactly a satisfactory answer, if he was being honest. Like come on, dude. Elaborate a bit.

He rolled his eyes, and caught a slight glance of Mick grinning in the corner of his vision. “..You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” The realisation was practically blinding, and Jeremy wasn’t sure whether to be mad with himself or Mick. Probably himself, it must have been pretty obvious. The awkward pauses made a little more sense. Maybe it was just some small form of revenge. Maybe he really didn’t dislike Jeremy! And if he did, maybe he was over it now!

Mick paused for a few seconds, coming to a full stop. It wasn’t like he directly looked at Jeremy, or took on a particularly accusatory tone, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was still upset. “That took you a while to figure out. I heard what your brother said. On the ferry.”

It wasn’t necessary to ask what he was talking about. There was only one thing it could have been, and it hung between them.

“I’m sorry about him. I..kinda figured you overheard. He talks loud.” Jeremy shrugged, trying to brush off something that, by now, he really should have learned couldn’t be swept under the rug. They needed to talk about it. But thankfully, his companion seemed to know that.

“You both do. Is he always like that?” Mick asked, curious. The first statement wasn’t meant to be rude, simply a statement of fact. Jeremy talked loud. The sky was blue. The ocean was salty. And the question…well. It was meant less as a question, more as a gauge. Was Jeremy really a safe person? Could they really end up being friends?

The sky was slowly darkening, the oranges and pinks fading into a deep navy blue, and the first star appeared up above. Jeremy could practically hear Thomas hovering over him, placing a hand on his shoulder and telling him to “make a wish.” He started walking again, continuing around the perimeter of the lake, following the burning desire within him to outrun his memories. 

But if there was one thing he should have learned by now, it’s that he couldn’t. His brother was everywhere on this farm.

“More now than a few years ago, but I don’t know. I don’t see him that much.” Jeremy admitted. And it was true, he didn’t. “He’s probably gotten worse since he moved out.”

Mick was silent, a non verbal prompt for him to continue. Confirm or deny it, Jeremy. Come on. 

“My mom normally..she normally shuts talk like that down.” Jeremy said, simultaneously trying to gauge how his (hopefully) soon to be friend would respond to that. 

Bingo. Mick found a small smile spreading across his lips. It was ridiculous, but he really was quite happy about this. Jeremy was safe! At the same time, Jeremy bit back a grin of his own, not entirely sure what he was smiling about.

“Oh. Cool.” Mick mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. Inside, though, he was thrilled. But there wasn’t anything he could really say without giving that away. And Jeremy stayed quiet too. Great…

Jeremy sank to the ground, grateful that they’d reached the land dividing the ocean and the lake, and that he was sitting in sand instead of mud. Mick knelt next to him, scooping up a handful of sand and letting it fall through his fingers, drizzling back to the ground.

“..So why did we come out here?” Jeremy asked after a few minutes of silence. “They’re probably passing the targets out right about now. We should get a move on.”

Mick turned to him, smiled, and produced a water gun from seemingly nowhere, so smoothly that Jeremy couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been holding it the whole time. But no, he must have had it hidden. At that moment, he realised exactly how beneficial of an ally this guy might be in the future. If he made it out of this. “Maybe you’re my target.”

Jeremy went still, thoughts racing as his heartbeat sped up to about a million beats per minute. There was no way. This early on? He couldn’t have lost when the games had barely even started, could he?

Thankfully, the other man grinned, throwing back his head in raucous laughter. “I’m kidding. Sorry, bad timing, I know. I just brought this out here to refill it. For tomorrow.” He elaborated at the look on Jeremy’s face.

He knelt by the lake, one of his knees sinking deep into the mud as he pulled the stopper from the gun. Bubbles started floating up to the surface of the water, moonlight cascading beautifully across the water. Something blocked it, Mick looked up. Jeremy was standing there, his arms crossed.

“Assassin 101, Mick,” He began, reaching down to the ground next to his feet, and scooping up a water bottle. The cap was already off, and he smiled despite himself. “Never be too predictable.”

Mick was turning away as Jeremy splashed him with the water. Fantastic. But still, good advice. “Where’d you learn that?” He asked, curious.

Jeremy shrugged, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “Places. Anyway, we should get inside somewhere. They’ve probably passed the targets out by now. We’re already being hunted.”

“I already have my target.” Mick shrugged, reaching down to his pocket. Jeremy held out a hand, stopping him. That was probably a good sign. Whenever he returned home, his own target would be waiting in the mailbox.

“Not yet. Let’s get somewhere safer.”

–

“You can sit down in the booth.” Mick vaguely gestured behind him with the spatula. For a camper owned by a teenage boy, it was surprisingly clean. The booth had a folded blanket draped over the back, and a collapsible table that Jeremy was halfway through undoing when Mick spoke again. “Well, hold on.”

Jeremy half thought he was going to offer him a drink, but instead Mick did something amazing. At least, amazing in his mind, anyway. His standard for ‘amazing’ was pretty low at this point. But anyway, Mick did something amazing. He trusted Jeremy.

He turned away from the stove for a second, unfolding a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and handing it to Jeremy. “You know who this is?” Mick asked.

“Bidwell?” Jeremy asked, holding the paper close to his face. “Uh. Yeah. He might be kinda hard to get, though.”

“Yeah, why?”

“He’s friends with Saxton Hale.”

There was a long pause, the kind that had been prevalent so far throughout their friendship, but that Jeremy hoped would start to fade.

“Who is that?” Mick asked, breaking the silence. “I mean, what’s the big deal? Is he good at Assassin?”

“No.” Jeremy began, but hesitated. “I mean, he’s not bad at assassin. He’s just…nice? He used to be friends with my brother.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could take them back. Bringing up Thomas to maybe the only person who didn’t know was a mistake.

“So he’s also…like that?” Mick looked over towards him, and Jeremy was relieved. But he had to pick now. Tell the truth, explain his brother’s death, the secret that had been hanging over him since he’d met Mick or lie, and possibly mess things up when the truth was inevitably discovered.

He took a deep breath. “No. Um. Not that brother.” Before he could help himself, he started rambling, the words just spilling out.

“His name was Thomas, he was a few years older than me, and he was kinda the golden child. He’d come here every year with me, even though he didn’t have to. He was the only one who cared enough to come here with me.” Jeremy paused, letting his words float in the air. 

Somehow it felt like if he didn’t finish the story, Thomas would still be alive, his life hanging in the delicate space between his words. He’d appear in the mists, the illusion of his brother throwing his head back and laughing at something he said.

Mick’s expression was soft, almost as if he knew how this story ended. He didn’t speak, didn’t prompt Jeremy to finish at all. But still, something compelled him to. 

Jeremy didn’t want to continue, but he did. Thomas was dead either way, buried six feet under, eyes wide and forever unseeing. Nothing would change that. “He died. In a car accident. A few years ago. He’s…I miss him.” 

There was so much more that he could say about Thomas, but nothing that he could say without risking tears.

Mick was dead silent for almost a full minute. “..I’m so sorry.” He whispered eventually. Certain parts of Jeremy’s behavior made much more sense now, loathe as he was to admit it. His immediate gut reaction to this news was pity. But based on the fiery look in Jeremy’s eyes, there had clearly been enough ‘sorrys’  in his life before today. And somehow he wasn’t surprised at all when Jeremy rose to his feet.

“Don’t be sorry. Let’s fucking win this thing. For Thomas.” The younger man’s voice was unusually flat, emotionless. And that was maybe the biggest tell of all for how truly upset he was.

Mick nodded, carrying two plates over to the booth. “For Thomas.”

—

And the plan was set into motion. Step one; return to Jeremy’s house and pick up his target. Again, Jeremy was guiding them through the woods, kicking at rocks on the ground and keeping a constant eye out. If Mick had a target, that meant anyone could.

As they walked, Mick was running through the rules they’d explained last night, trying to commit them to memory.

Tavish had seemed exhausted after he’d announced the return of the Assassin game, practically collapsing into a seat a few feet from the makeshift stage, his head in his hands. The next speaker patted him on the shoulder before climbing up and introducing himself as Dell Conagher. “I’m sure most of you remember the rules, but it’s been a while, so we can go over them.”

“First, no attacks inside.” Dell announced. Before he even finished, a hand shot up. It was a young teenage girl, her dark hair pulled back and a smirk on her face. He sighed. “Yeah, Olivia?”

“What’s counted as ‘inside?’” She asked.

“Ten feet from a door, minimum.” Dell explained. “Second, gameplay is 24/7. And finally, you have to surrender your target by midnight if you’re eliminated.” 

With those words, he cast a glance at a man dressed entirely in red, with a helmet covering his eyes. There was obviously something else there, an untold story that Mick might never know.

–

They took a roundabout route through the woods that blanketed the farm. Jeremy had been hoping to get there fast, but Mick was wearing bulky hiking boots (in the middle of summer?), and it was hard for him to run. So they walked, Jeremy leading him down paths that were little more than a few broken branches. 

Admittedly, it took longer than it really should have, mostly because Jeremy kept stopping and pointing down paths and telling Mick where they’d lead. They passed the little hut that Mick had seen earlier, but neither of them acknowledged it.

They finally emerged behind the house, both of them speeding up at the sight of the whitewashed bricks covered in ivy. Jeremy led him over to the mailbox, grabbed the papers inside and returned to the front door, shoving it open and walking inside. The two of them were finally safe from attack. It felt like the tense air that covered the both of them lifted slightly, and they breathed twin sighs of relief as they went to the sitting room.

Jeremy frowned at the name on his own paper. “Oh, you’re joking.” He muttered. Mick leaned over and looked at it. 

“What? Do you know her?” He asked.

Jeremy sighed. “Yeah. I..yeah. She’s nice, just…”

“Just…” Mick prompted. 

“Terrifying?” Jeremy settled on. “She’s a friend of a friend and she spends every summer here, and she’s the same age as me and I used to have a crush on her.” He summarized quickly.

Mick’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Oh..” He didn’t know why he was disappointed. 

Jeremy was quick to speak, but not as quick to pick up on the meaning of Mick’s changed expression. “I..uh. Not anymore. I mean. She was cool, and all. But she’s scary.”

Although Mick glanced away, it was obvious that there was something else hidden behind his glasses. “Right. Do you think you can take her out on your own?” He asked, hoping the answer was yes.

To his disappointment, Jeremy shook his head. “Nah, but let’s not worry about that for now. Let’s worry about your target!” 

It was obvious that he was quickly trying to change the subject. He was about as subtle as someone throwing a bowling ball at a china cabinet. But hey, it was working. Jeremy stood, crossed to the bookshelf and grabbed a photo album. With surprising grace, he placed it on the table and flipped through to a worn page. There, a picture of three boys. One was tall and muscular, one thin with black hair, and the last one…

“Is that you?” Mick asked. But no..it couldn’t be. Even as he spoke, he knew he was wrong. This wasn’t Jeremy. 

It was his brother. 

“No. That’s your target, though.” Jeremy pointed at the boy with black hair. 

It was underwhelming, honestly. “Him? Really? He’s going to be hard to get?” Mick asked, incredulous.

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “No. It’s the fact that he hangs out with this guy that’s a bad sign.” He pointed at the boy in the middle. “He’s gotten stronger since then, honestly.”

“Oh. It can’t be that bad.”

Jeremy gave him a look. Maybe a few years ago, he would have said the same. But since then, he’d learned. Never underestimate anybody when it comes to assassin. The best strategy is to hide your skills and reveal them when the moment’s right. So Mick’s first kill needed to be perfect. He couldn’t show his hand too early. But luckily, Jeremy had an idea.

He flipped the album open to a new page, turned towards Mick, and started planning.

-

The next morning, Jeremy strolled into the cabin Saxton and Bidwell were staying in, trying his best to exude confidence. A girl with dark hair and a green hoodie was lounging on the couch in the front room. If he hadn’t been expecting it, he almost would have been surprised to see her there. She glanced up from her book and waved at him. “Hey, Jeremy!”

“Hey, Olivia.” He waved back, but didn’t pause. He would come back and talk to her later, but he was on a mission now. And so was she. Her older brother and his best friend were outside, sitting only a few feet away from the edge of the porch. But more than ten feet from the nearest door, which meant they were fair game. Olivia could see out of the front window. She was keeping watch, and he was sure she had a walkie talkie matching the one he’d seen on Saxton’s belt.

Olivia was good, and so were Saxton and Bidwell. So was Maggie, wherever she was. But Jeremy had been taught by two of the best assassin players in family history. His mother and Thomas. So sure, Olivia was good. But he was better.

He was unsurprised to see the kitchen was empty, and all he had to do was flip the latch on the back door, head out front, and wait. 

He took a seat on one of the steps, stretching his legs out in front of him. Saxton and Bidwell were still sitting in the grass, talking. They looked up at him, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Are you here to try and eliminate us?” Bidwell asked. Jeremy shook his head, thankful that it was mostly true. He was really just here to watch them get eliminated.

A few minutes passed, and eventually, the suspicious looks did too. 

“Where’s Mags?” Jeremy asked, watching Saxton closely. His expression faltered, and he glanced away.

“I..she’s not here this summer. Stuff going on at home.” Saxton said. But Jeremy knew him well, and he knew he was lying. He also knew to just drop the subject.

They all sat in silence for a few minutes. And then there was a crunching sound from the roof, quiet enough that you wouldn’t hear it if you weren’t listening. But Jeremy was, and he knew to look up.

Mick crawled to the edge of the roof, raised his gun, took aim, and…

Bidwell jumped to his feet, his eyes shooting up at the roof. “What was that?” He asked. He caught sight of Mick, and after ten seconds of consideration, both his eyes and Saxton’s turned to Jeremy. “Are you serious?”

Before either of them could speak, Jeremy leapt to his feet and took off running for the woods, his laugh echoing behind him. For the first time, his thoughts were only of the game.

–

Although he couldn’t see it, Bidwell turned to Saxton and sighed. “..He really is just like Thomas.”

–

The grass cushioned his steps, his movements almost completely silent as he treaded through the woods. They’d planned to circle around and meet in the woods behind the cabin, but right as Jeremy was about to make the turn, he heard someone. 

“I don’t know, I’m just..it’s been a long day, okay?” Someone familiar was talking, someone that he was almost certain he should know. And her voice was very familiar. “Listen, the only people I really talked to were Jay and Thomas, and you know how that ended. I just don’t want to play assassin if Thomas isn’t here.” She admitted.

There was a pause, and suddenly, Jeremy realised exactly who was standing in the clearing. He stepped out from behind the tree, and smiled at her. “I can help with that.”

–

Jeremy sat down at the dinner table, and his mother smiled at him. Henry, unsurprisingly, was nowhere in sight. If Jeremy had to guess, he’d probably walked down the farm’s long driveway to call his wife on the payphone. As he did every year he was dragged out here. And every time he came back, he was snippy and mean. 

His ma, however, didn’t seem to be very concerned about Henry’s whereabouts.“I heard you made a friend?” She asked.

Jeremy shrugged. “Yeah, he’s cool.” There wasn’t much he really wanted to say about Mick. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he even knew what he thought about him. Everything was just so confusing right now.

Ciara paused, almost like she was waiting for him to add something. “Just cool? I heard he’s really good at assassin. Does he have help?”

Jeremy shrugged again, wishing that he’d met up with Mick again. “Maybe a little. I haven’t seen him in a few hours.”

“Well, apparently he’s gotten four people today.” 

“Four?” Jeremy gasped. He knew that Mick had basically disappeared after the elimination this morning, but…he’d been busy. Busier than himself, certainly. Not like he’d had much of an option, because his target didn’t even have her own target with her.

–

On his way up to bed, Jeremy remembered the promise of a target waiting outside. He crept back downstairs and opened the front door, walking over to the mailbox. 

Two minutes later, he was standing outside of his mom’s room, the door cracked slightly open.

“Ma, I just…I need advice.” Jeremy whispered, pushing her door open a little further.

She looked at him, her eyes crinkling with concern. She set her book down on the bed. “Why? What happened?”

He couldn’t find it within himself to answer, so instead he just pulled out the paper he’d grabbed from the mailbox. 

Written on it, in fine, inky black cursive, was Mick’s name.

Chapter Text

Yet again, they were in Mick’s camper. Jeremy was lounging on the booth, one foot planted firmly on the ground and the other on the booth, his knee pointed straight up towards the ceiling. He tossed a bottle cap into the air, easily catching it on the back of his hand. He flicked it towards the ceiling again, extending his palm out to grab it.

“I just don’t get it..” Mick admitted, reaching out and snatching the bottle cap before it could fall. He glanced towards his friend, picking up on the fact that Jeremy seemed to be a little zoned out. “Are you listening?”

“Uh…yeah. You haven’t gotten shot yet?” Jeremy paraphrased what Mick had been rambling about for the past five or so minutes. He’d been lost in his own thoughts, weighing his options. It was already way past the point when he could have confessed without seeming suspicious, so it seemed like his only choice was to stay hidden. “Man, I don’t get why you’re so worried. Maybe it’s a good sign. You’re scary. I mean, you have more kills than most people.”

Mick paused for a moment, seeming to consider that possibility. Jeremy almost breathed a sigh of relief, glad he was finally off the subject. But of course, the other teenager continued: “No, that doesn’t make sense.”

“It doesn’t?” Jeremy sighed, resigning himself to the conversation. The issue wasn’t that he disliked discussing this topic, although he did. Keeping this secret felt like it was killing him, tearing him apart slowly from the inside. And of course, the secret would have to come out eventually. But not right now, right? He could hide it a little while longer, even if it felt like he was burning from the inside out.

His main issue was that he genuinely didn’t get why Mick cared so much. You’d think he’d be relieved the other players were leaving him alone. 

“No, they would’ve gotten me by now. Think about it! What’s the point of having my name and not attacking me? It’s not even like we’re hard to find half the time!” Michael exclaimed, a little louder than normal.

Jeremy watched him silently for a moment. Mick tossed the bottle cap into the air and Jeremy caught it on the back of his hand. “..Let’s go on a hike?” He suggested.

Mick sighed. “Alright. Bring a gun?” 

Jeremy snorted a laugh. “Why the hell wouldn’t you?”

–

A couple hours later, the two were on a hike again, this time heading to the peak of one of the larger hills on the island. Still within the boundaries of the farm, technically. Truth be told, it wasn’t much of a hike. It was more of a leisurely walk, but it was fun either way.

Unbeknownst to the other, each of them had a secret burning them alive. It was up to fate which one of them would break first. Neither of them wanted to speak, but Mick glanced over to Jeremy and realised what he had to do as it started to rain.

Michael couldn’t keep this damn secret any longer. He reached into his pocket, grabbed a photo, and shoved it at Jeremy. The other boy grabbed it, looking between Mick and the boys in the picture a few times. It was a polaroid taken in a familiar apartment, neat handwriting printed at the bottom reading “April 19th,” no year written. Not that it was necessary.

Michael was sitting on a couch, his aviator sunglasses in one hand as he flipped the camera off with the other. There was an unfamiliar girl standing next to him, and then two men on the other side of the couch. One was unfamiliar, but he was holding hands with…Thomas. 

"...You met him.” Jeremy whispered, stating the obvious. Stating the truth that he must have known, somewhere deep in his heart. Michael had never asked what happened to Thomas. He must have known, somehow, even if Jeremy just wanted to pretend he wasn’t the type to ask questions like that. Michael Mundy had met Thomas. He carried a ghost, a story, a piece of the missing boy that was haunting Thomas. And he hadn’t thought to share.

“I mean, I was at the funeral.” Michael confessed, taking a step back. “I thought you knew that.”

A half lie. When he’d first met Jeremy, he’d figured that the other boy must have recognised him. When it became clear that wasn’t true, though… he didn’t bother saying anything.

“You should have told me that! Thomas was my brother!” Jeremy shouted, moving forward, an unfamiliar fury blazing in his gaze as his emotions got the better of them. “And then you-” 

He was cut off by the feeling of something hitting him in the middle of his back. What? Oh. Oh, fuck. He spun to look at Soldier standing behind him, just as the man emerged from the trees, a wry grin on his face and a watergun in his hand.

Just like the first day they’d met, when they’d been perched up in that tree stand, Jeremy was avoiding Mick’s gaze as he stared at Soldier. They must have been followed somehow. 

Again, there was something unreadable there.

The wind whipped around them and the rain soaked them both down to the bone. 

(Years later, they’d laugh about this, how dramatic they’d been. But all that comes later. Now there’s only the two of them, one bleeding out, both betrayed.)

“No, just give him the paper. Please, I want to talk about this.” Mick begged, nodding towards Soldier.

Jeremy lifted his hand up slightly, holding out the piece of paper he’d been hiding in his pocket for days so Mick could read his own name printed on it.

“Michael. Run.” Jeremy said, slow and patient. Mick looked up at him, hesitating for half a second. His expression changed somehow, a shift that Jeremy couldn’t even start to identify. Then he took off, sprinting past the shelter and straight out towards the creek.

Soldier blinked at him, then moved closer and snatched the paper from his grasp. “Are you serious?!” He demanded. “You had his name and you did not make an effort to asssinate him?!”

Jeremy stayed quiet. 

A beat. Soldier seemed to realise something, probably that his target was actively escaping, scowled at Jeremy, and sprinted off. Even if he was pissed, Jeremy couldn’t help but hope that Mick escaped. 

–

After being killed, Jeremy headed straight to the cabin. He changed into dry clothes and sat by the window for hours, gazing idly outside. No sign of Michael. The rain died down, slowing to a complete stop after some time as he slipped into a restless sleep.

Jeremy woke up, pushing himself up into a sitting position. “Thomas.” He whispered. The world was quiet and still around him. Then, he remembered. The world would continue to be quiet and still. For a moment, he’d almost forgotten where he was. He’d woken up into a world where Thomas was sleeping in the bunk above him.

But his brother wasn’t there. And he never would be again. 

He let out a sharp cry of despair, reaching up to cover his face. Oh god…oh god…

It was stifling in this house. Jeremy got to his feet, shoving the blankets straight to the floor.

The house was suffocating him again, the memories still too much for him. He let out a choked sob before he even realised he was crying. This didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense. Why did Thomas leave him?! Why was he alone?! 

He did not bother to grab a pair of shoes as he ran outside. Pacing himself was barely even an afterthought as he sprinted, trying to outrun the memories of his big brother. 

It didn’t take long for him to run out of breath, but he’d gone almost two miles. He fell to his knees next to the lake, digging his fingers deep into the mud as he tried to ground himself. 

The thought of his brother echoed in his mind like a bell, reminding him of that poem he’d read for English class. This guy hears someone knocking outside of his room at night and thinks it’s his dead girlfriend. Well, it wasn’t exactly like that, but close enough. No matter how much Jeremy tried to distract himself from the memories of Thomas that constantly haunted him, he couldn’t escape.

He stayed there for a while, kneeling and staring deep into the lake in front of him. He wasn’t quite sure how long it took for him to calm down, stand up, and move to the bench. At least there, it was possible for him to lie down and breathe deep.

Not for the first time, Jeremy wondered how it felt to die. He wasn’t dying. Two fingers were pressed to his wrist, and he knew his heart was beating. But still. 

He was on a picnic bench alone, and the sky was going dark. He dug his nails into his wrist, hoping it would leave a mark, a vivid reminder of this feeling. There was nothing left for him. Maybe this was how Thomas had felt, so utterly alone. Maybe this was why Thomas had left, had hanged himself in the darkness of his own bedroom on a school day. Maybe it was easier to die than it was to live like this. Instead of making amends, instead of saying goodbye, maybe it was easier to leave without another word

He stared up towards the stars, wishing he knew the answers to the million questions racing through his head.

—

Mick wasn’t exactly looking for Jeremy. He’d have been lying if he said he wasn’t half expecting him to find him out on that damn bench, though. And of course, that was part of his motivation for walking halfway across the Farm. There really wasn’t a justification to walk that far without expecting to find his friend there.

There was a part of Mick that was still burning, with rage or with betrayal or guilt, he couldn’t exactly tell. But another part of him had softened and realised something that Jeremy had never explicitly told him. It hadn’t been hard to pick up, though. When watching the other guy interact, it became pretty clear. He was awkward and uncharacteristically quiet and there was a wedge between him and every other person on this farm.

And maybe at the core of it, that’s why he’d never mentioned to Jeremy that he’d met Thomas once and been at the funeral. 

Mick had figured out he was the only person the other teenager had here. The only person his age, at least. And it wasn’t fair to be this mad over a game, was it? Especially when honestly…Mick understood. Maybe he would have done the same thing, in his place. 

Mick glanced at his reflection in the lake as he passed, approaching the bench. Jeremy hadn’t noticed him yet. He walked to Jeremy, leaning over the other boy. “Are you hurt?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

The traitor groaned, shaking his head. “..No. I’m fine. I’m just..I’m out here for fun!”

Mick raised an eyebrow, but decided to be kind and not point out that obvious lie. Jeremy already looked shitty, he didn’t need to be told that.

“Okay…right. I just wanted to apologise for lying.” He began, still working out exactly what to say. Thankfully, he didn’t have to. Jeremy interrupted him.

“Yeah. Awesome.” Jeremy said, his voice flat. “We’re both liars. Awesome.”

He didn’t make any move to even look towards Michael, who rolled his eyes, sitting cross legged on the ground next to him. Their heads were near the same level.

“Jer, listen. I’m sorry I lied to you. I shouldn’t have done that, I just…didn’t want to change things. I didn’t want to ruin things between us.” Michael admitted. 

Jeremy genuinely considered just sitting there in silence, leaving Michael to feel guilty. The only reason he didn’t go with that strategy was the fact that he’d lied too. Even if it was much less serious than lying about meeting someone’s dead brother, he’d lied directly to Michael’s face. 

He sighed deeply, turning his head to face Michael. “It’s fine. I guess.”

Michael squirmed, not sure how to respond to the obvious insincerity in his friend’s tone. “It’s not. But okay. Is there anything I can do? To help you, I mean? Anything you want to know?”

“..Can you tell me about it? About him?” Jeremy asked eventually, sitting up. “What was it like? What did he say?”

Mick nodded, closing his eyes for a second as he went back in time, revisiting that day when Ludwig and Mikhail had taken him with them to meet a friend, a boy who wanted their advice. Not a boy, technically. He was twenty at the time, but everyone was young to the two men. 

“Okay. Yeah, I can do that. He told me a lot about this… guy. Not here, not you. Back home. He said the only downside of going to the Farm every year was not being able to see him for those weeks.” Michael began. “He said that his little brother-”

“-is incredible. I’m so proud of Jeremy, man.” Thomas told Mick, leaning back against the couch. “I think the two of you would get along, too. But he does track and he was second in the state last year. I can almost guarantee he’s gonna get first this time.”

“First, huh? He’s that good?” Mick had asked, noticing how quiet the rest of the room had gone.

“He is. 

“Oh, James? He hasn’t met Jeremy yet. I keep telling him he’s gotta come to the Farm this summer, you know?” Thomas shrugged, a small smile creeping onto his face. “I think he’s almost convinced. We normally leave first week of June, right? So I have five weeks to convince him.”

“Five weeks?” Jeremy interrupted, a pang in his chest as he realised when Michael must have met Thomas. 

“..Five weeks.” Michael confirmed gently, gazing out towards the lake. Neither of them had to say what they were thinking.

“Do you even know what happened to him?” Jeremy asked after a long minute, looking towards him. 

Michael hesitated, then shook his head. “Do you want to talk about it.

“..Yeah. Thomas was…he was home one day, talking to Ma when I was at school. Then she went to work, and…”

He came back from school, fiercely proud of himself. For the first time all year, he’d come back home with an A on an assignment and he couldn’t wait to show Thomas and his Ma. 

Jeremy wandered their house, looking for someone to show. He didn’t see his Ma anywhere, so he figured she was probably at work. He knocked on Thomas’ door, excited to surprise him. No response. Hmm… maybe he was napping. He slid the paper under the gap and knocked again, then walked away.

Jeremy returned a couple hours later, deciding it was time to wake his brother up. He knocked loudly a few times. No answer, still…His heart sank. He banged on the door. “Thomas?!” He shouted, his voice cracking. 

His Ma appeared from somewhere he didn’t know and produced a key from somewhere, and she screamed, and Jeremy knew exactly what had happened, but moved forward anyway and he saw the image that haunted his dreams, the last time he’d seen his brother before the funeral.

They were both quiet for a minute. 

“He loved you.” Mick whispered eventually, not sure if there was anything he could say that would even begin to help.

“I know. I miss him.” Jeremy said plainly, as if it wasnt incredibly obvious. 

As if every day, his decisions weren’t influenced by his brother. As if he hadn’t spent a ridiculous amount of time wondering what had happened to Thomas, what had led him to do that. As if he hadn’t wondered who his brother was calling. Wait. He’d wondered who his brother was calling, but now…holy shit! He was pretty sure he knew!

“Do you want to meet James?” Mick asked slowly, reaching over and taking his hand despite the mud. He had no need to ask what his friend had been thinking. 

Jeremy nodded.

“I can help you with that. Come on.” Michael smiled gently, pulling him to his feet.

The two of them stood, walking slowly. They headed back towards Ludwig and Mikhail’s cabin, pausing outside. 

“Do you want to talk about the uh…name thing?” Jeremy offered, grabbing Mick’s other hand before he could knock. 

“What’s there to say?” Mick asked, tilting his head. “Well. Actually, yeah, I would like to know.”

Jeremy grinned at him, then sat on the porch. Michael hesitated, then sat next to him. They had all night to talk to Mikhail and Ludwig. 

Wherever James was, if he was dead, if he was alive, he could wait. 

Jeremy was alive. He felt alive for the first time in years.

Chapter Text

Thomas Willis was dead. His body was buried, his soul was gone.

He was never going to step foot on the farm again.

He was not coming back.

And Ludwig knew that. He'd been at his funeral, had waited in the line to see the body during the visitation. He'd watched them lower his friend's corpse into the ground.

He wasn't typically one for emotion, for grieving. He was a man of science. People died when they died, sometimes at his hand. Grief was a waste of time, especially when you could be more concerned with bringing them back.

But nobody on the farm knew of his job. They hadn't known to reach out to him. So Thomas had died and stayed dead. And Ludwig had stayed on the farm, save for the burial.

Mikhail had been at the funeral, too. They rarely spoke about it. It was impossible of course, but both quietly worried that Thomas would haunt their house more than he already did.

Days ago, Ludwig had opened his front door and he'd looked outside and he'd seen a ghost. Thomas was standing on his front porch, the same grin as always plastered on his face. But it didn't make sense. It couldn't be him.

He was dead.

It had taken far too long for him to realise the truth, precious moments standing and staring at the face in front of him. This boy must have been the one Mick had spoken of. What was his name…Jeremy? Right. He must have been looking for Michael. He wasn't here to ask for advice.

Thomas was the one who would have done that, and he wasn't around anymore. He was dead.

So he'd pointed Jeremy in the right direction and felt the rare emotion of hatred —directed towards himself— for hoping that he'd never return.

But of course he did, with his grin and voice and speech patterns that were so painfully familiar it made him seem just like the man Ludwig had nearly considered his son.

Nearly.

“Are they nice?” Jeremy asked, his rare bout of nerves obvious enough that Mick made eye contact. “I’ve met them a few times but never actually spoken to them, man.” 

The other boy took a few moments to consider, tapping his fingernails against the railing. "They're not… mean?" He offered, hoping that would assuage his worries.

Jeremy threw a sideways look at his friend, silently prompting some sort of elaboration.

"Yeah. They're nice enough. Ludwig can be a little…" Mick trailed off, pausing again. "Strange? Doubt he'll be like that with you around."

"Strange?" He repeated, really hoping Mick would get the hint this time.

"Jer, cut it out. They're not gonna be rude to you." Mick moved to stand up, but his friend beat him to it.

He jumped to his feet, reaching down and grabbing Mick's hand, pulling him up to a standing position.

"Time to meet them, then." He said cheerfully, rapping on the door before any words of protest could be spoken. Not that Mick was gonna protest. If anything, he'd probably be confused.

It took a moment, but the door swung open eventually. Ludwig stood on the other side, his eyes narrowing as he caught sight of the two boys.

"He wanted to meet you guys." Michael offered an explanation that hadn't been verbally asked for.

Ludwig nodded. Of course he did.

They'd obviously been in the middle of dinner, but Ludwig waved the boys inside anyway. There was no need to ask Jeremy's name. He already knew, but on the off chance the familiarity wasn't reciprocated, he introduced himself.

The two boys sat at the table, taking two seats next to eachother. Mikhail nodded towards Mick in a silent greeting, his eyes locking on Jeremy.

The room was occupied by a hushed stillness that took up more space than it should really have been allowed.

"I knew your brother." Ludwig said eventually, glancing down towards his plate and picking up his fork. "He was… a kind person."

Jeremy stayed quiet, having heard the sentiment dozens of times over. It was rare for someone to tell him something he actually wanted to hear about his brother. Something beside the typical empty words repeated at funerals and even now, years after death.

Every conversation with people that had known Thomas eventually turned into another visitation, sharing hollow statements and stories.

"He was brave." Mikhail added, his deep voice breaking the momentary quiet. "Thomas cared for you and James."

"Brave?" Jeremy echoed. Brave wasn't a descriptor used by many people to describe Thomas. Kind… he'd obviously heard that over and over again. But brave was new. It held an implication, an awareness, that most people didn't grasp. Mikhail knew Thomas.

"Brave." Ludwig confirmed with a nod. "He was in a relationship with James."

Neither of them had to say how that made him brave, and neither had to ask. Nor did they have to clarify what sort of relationship it was. At this point, it was obvious. The only question Jeremy wanted the answer to was something about his brother keeping this a secret.

But the answer to that question was dead and rotting and had been buried with his brother.

"He was…" Mikhail paused, searching for a word and not finding it. "упрямый?"

He glanced towards Ludwig as he spoke, hoping his partner would be able to assist. The other man frowned, repeating the word to himself a couple times before offering a translation. "Stubborn?"

"Yes. He was stubborn." Mikhail agreed, a smile playing across his face. "He argued a lot. Not with James. With…"

Ludwig interrupted, elbowing his husband. "Sag ihm das nicht," He warned, "seine mutter hat es verboten."

Mikhail looked at him, then nodded. Instead of completing his sentence, he stood and gathered the two plates, vanishing into the kitchen.

"Why did you two come here?" Ludwig asked, turning his attention back to the teenagers in front of him. "It is late. You should be going to bed soon."

"We will, we will." Mick waved his comment away. "Jeremy wanted to meet James."

There was another lengthy pause. "Right. If you would like to try and send him a letter, I can provide his address."

The thought of speaking to someone who had meant that much to his brother, someone who undoubtedly had stories he'd never heard, who carried a surviving piece of Thomas, made him feel sick to his stomach. He nodded instead of providing a verbal answer.

"I'll get a piece of paper." Ludwig followed his husband into the kitchen.

Once they were alone, Mick turned to Jeremy. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I might head back home once he comes back, though." He tried to smile and pretend that something inside of him hadn't just shattered, but Mick clearly saw right through him.

"I'll walk with you."

Before Jeremy had a chance to protest, Ludwig came back and handed him a piece of paper folded in two. "Thank you." He said softly, rising to his feet and pushing his chair in.

They wandered out underneath the stars again, passing the bench they'd been sitting on just an hour before.

Jeremy led them down a dark path in the forest. "It's probably safer if we go this way. You're still in the game, remember?"

Mick actually didn't need any sort of prompting to remember that, since it had been effectively consuming his mind for the past couple of days. Before he was given a chance to say that, his foot caught on something and he started to fall.

"Shit-" Jeremy grabbed Mick's upper arm, pulling him back. The other boy spun to face him, their lips inches apart.

They stood there like that for a minute, a little too close to be a normal interaction between two friends. Neither immediately made a move to get away from the other

Jeremy smiled awkwardly at Mick. "So…uh. See you tomorrow?"

The other boy nodded, quickly moving backwards. "Yeah. Tomorrow. Bye."

Jeremy watched his friend practically run away, running his fingers through his hair and wondering what the hell had just happened.

He could figure it out later. For now, he needed to sleep.

"Mick! Michael!" Jeremy shouted, banging his fist against the door to the other boy's camper.

There was a flurry of movement from inside the camper, a loud banging sound, then the door swung open. "What? What's going on?" Michael looked disheveled, his hair messy and his glasses not present. It was about two in the afternoon, but he looked like he'd just woken up.

"You look…" Jeremy began, but switched back to his main point as soon as Mick playfully glared at him, raising his hands in defeat. "Sorry! Sorry. Just wanted to tell you that you made it to the final showdown. Thought you'd be happier about that."

Mick blinked, taking a minute to process that. "I made it to the showdown? To the end?"

Jeremy nodded, grinning. "Yeah. You're gonna win!" He let out a whoop, throwing his hands into the air in celebration. Although Mick looked mildly amused by this, he didn't agree, watching him quietly.

"But what does that mean?" He questioned, his face screwed up in evident confusion.

"Tomorrow, you're gonna be put in this huge circle made of chairs and stuff and we're gonna watch you and a few people try and eliminate eachother." Jeremy explained, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Oh." Mick frowned. "Do I have to?"

"What- yes! You have to, come onn. We'll come up with a good plan." Jeremy reassured him. This didn't seem to help his friend, so he conceded slightly. "You don't have to. But do you really want to let Soldier win after he killed your friend?"

He accompanied this statement with a grin and mischevious tilt of his head.

"Do you want to come in?" Mick offered, rolling his eyes and moving out of the way as Jeremy practically pushed past him.

"I thought you'd never ask." He said with a wink and a sly grin. "We can come up with a plan!"

Mick folded the paper they'd written their plan on, tucking it into his pocket. "You think this is enough?"

Jeremy nodded, watching as he rose to his feet and pushed the window open. "It's a lot. At least one of those ideas has to work. I'll grab stuff for the plan later tonight."

"Alright. Sounds good." He sank back into the seat, closing his eyes and tilting his head up towards the sky.

Jeremy looked towards Mick, noticing the muscle in his arms and the-

He practically heard Henry's voice in his head and had to do something, jumping to his feet.

"You know, my brother told me about this thing we could do." Jeremy suggested idly, grinning. "The road leading to the farm? It's pitch black at night. We could walk down it."

"Walk it?" Mick repeated skeptically. Despite how ridiculous this idea seemed, he couldn't stop himself from smiling back. It sounded fun, if not kinda stupid.

"What else can we do?" Jeremy pointed out. "The showdown's tomorrow. You're gonna win, we both know that. So what else is there to do? Especially right now. It's not even dark yet."

Mick tilted his head, a suggestion on the tip of his tongue that he bit back. He didn't really want to make things weird right now. Instead of saying something strange and changing their dynamic completely, he shrugged. "We could go on a walk for now. And we don't know that I'm gonna win."

Jeremy just shrugged, shoving the camper door open and heading outside. For some strange reason, he decided to take the most convoluted and annoying path possible around the farm.

"Where are we even going?" Mick asked, half complaining and half curious.

Jeremy glanced back over his shoulder, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "It's not dark yet and I'm hungry."

"Wait, so we're going back to your-" He began, cut off by Jeremy's quick nod, followed up by an even quicker explanation.

"She wanted to meet you! You're good at assassin and you made me meet Ludwig and Mikhail, even if-"

"I didn't make you talk to them! You asked!" Mick argued, his tone sharper than it normally was. Jeremy turned to look at his friend, but heard something and his head snapped back towards the house.

They stopped outside of the kitchen window, Jeremy's hand closing around Mick's wrist and dragging him out of sight. Before the other boy could ask what was happening, Jeremy pulled him a little closer and covered his mouth with his free hand.

"She's talkin' to someone." He hissed, nodding towards the window. "We should come back later."

Mick nodded, trying to extricate himself from Jeremy's grip when the volume of the conversation inside the kitchen raised and they both froze.

"I do not think it is a good idea. The boy has lived his whole life without knowing me. What does it matter?" An unfamiliar voice asked, and Jeremy's brows furrowed.

"His brother died!" His Ma snapped, and Jeremy could practically hear her turning and pointing at him, her words practically as accusatory as the action itself would be.

"Oui, and I was at the funeral."

Mick and Jeremy exchanged a look at the drawn out pause before his mother spoke again.

"And you're lucky you were. Listen, I don't want to know all the details of your fancy job off in Arizona, but you're still his father!" She dropped something into the sink and stomped off, her voice growing fainter as she walked away. "You don't have to tell him, but at least talk to him!"

"C'est New Mexico, et je ne veux pas blesser le garçon." The man continued.

The conversation retreated into the living room and neither Jeremy nor Mick spoke for a minute, both stunned by what they'd heard.

"..You can meet her tomorrow." Jeremy muttered eventually, moving back as he realised he was still covering Mick's mouth. "Sorry."

"It's alright. Are you-" Mick hesitated, not sure how to offer a shoulder to lean on. "You want to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Jeremy asked, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the forest again, his voice unnaturally perky.

That seemed like a bad sign. "..About what we heard?"

"You mean the fact that my dad's here? And that he's French?" Jeremy's grip on his hand tightened substantially with that last word.

"…Yes?" He offered.

"No. It's fine. I'll find him later." He muttered something that Mick didn't really catch. Not that he was going to ask for clarification, since it was probably something along the lines of 'he's French, how hard can it be to find him?'

Michael took his hand and dragged him towards the forest, back towards the tree stand. Jeremy didn't fight back, clearly still lost in thought until Mick let go of his hand and started climbing the ladder.

"We can still walk the driveway." Mick suggested, his last ditch effort to help Jeremy.

His friend considered it for a moment, then nodded, shooting a look toward the setting sun. "Soon."

Walking the road wasn't nearly as scary as Jeremy had been told it was. The moon was full that night, rising over their heads and shining pure white light down onto the path, illuminating their steps.

The end of the driveway was two or three miles out, Jeremy didn't remember exactly how far. But they weren't in a rush. There was nothing to worry about. Mick kept looking up, pointing at the stars and telling him about constellations. It seemed easier to just lie down after a point.

Their hands were clutched tightly within each other's.

The sky stretched out above them, vast and twinkling with millions of pinpricks of light.

It felt like they were in another world, where neither of them had to hide how they felt. Another world where they were free to live how they wanted, no time constraints to stop them from lying on the ground forever.

"You ready for tomorrow?" Jeremy asked eventually, turning his head to look towards Mick.

"Dunno. Seems like I don't really have a choice, do I?" He countered, his tone light.

"There's always a choice."