Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hand over the key.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

Chase runs behind a table, and the man stands on the other side. For a brief, cruel moment, Chase thinks of those scenes in comedy films. Where the hero and the villain stand on opposite ends of a table, flinching to one side to trick the other or throw them off. How the hero always manages to move faster than the villain and make it out of the corner unscathed.

But this isn’t a movie. This is real life. As fit as Chase knows he is, he does not know if he can outrun this man. He doesn’t know this man’s athletic abilities, how fast he runs, how long his stamina lasts, etc. All Chase knows is that he is a grown man and larger than Chase, so he’s more likely to overpower him.

There’s movement from his shirt pocket, and Chase carefully places a hand over it.

He’s not taking the risk to see if he runs faster. Not with Buddy here.

The man moves suddenly to the left, so Chase moves to the right. Bringing them both to a standstill once more.

Think Chase, think! He can’t hide behind this table forever, he can’t risk running, and he definitely can’t fight this man.

But he has to do something! Something that distracts him, throws him off, anything to get his attention—

Wait.

With all his strength, Chase shoves the table forward. There’s a loud clash, glasses break, and the man falls over.

It’s all Chase needs to see to turn on his heel and run.

He runs to the door, twisting the knob, but it doesn’t budge. Only small movements but it doesn’t turn completely.

It’s locked.

His heartbeat reaches his eardrums, and Chase becomes terrifyingly aware of his breathing.

He doesn’t notice a tiny head of black hair pulling out of his shirt pocket, eyebrows furrowed with a mix of fear and worry.

“Chase, it’s locked—”

“I know! I can see that!”

“Then stop trying to open it!”

A lightbulb goes off, and Chase kicks at the door. Once. Twice. Three times. Each kick is harder and filled with more aggression.

“Not like that!”

“Well, do you have any better ideas, Buddy?!”

With another kick, Chase shoves the side of his body into the door.

Nothing.

His breathing is becoming bumpy and rocky, he thinks he’s getting lightheaded.

Something is thrown behind him, and he hears shuffling. Chase turns around and sees the man getting back on his feet. He abandons the door and acts on his next bright idea.

He jumps onto the man's back.

The man yells at the sudden weight, tipping forward just a bit. Chase claws into his shirt, wrapping his arms around the front of his neck. But be sure not to choke him.

Somewhere deep in the back of his head, Chase laughs at the fact that even now, he refuses to hurt this man. Who is connected to those who brought sorrow and pain to Silver and her family, used them for their benefit, shoved them, locked them away, and denied them the rights they deserved as living things.

Who has caused Buddy pain in ways Chase does not know of yet.

Teeth dig into Chase’s arm, and the man shakes twists, and turns rapidly, trying to shake the young man off. Chase fights back, twisting his hands into the shirt, and kicking with as much force as his legs allow at this angle.

“Chase—!”

“The key—” Chase grunts out, “Buddy—Look for a key—Pockets!”

The man steps haphazardly, and Chase worries that Buddy will fall off. He feels the fabric of his pocket shifting, but the man steps again and Buddy falls right back into the pocket.

The man suddenly jerks back, and Chase’s head hits something wooden. His head screams in pain, and there’s a throbbing bumping back and forth. But Chase tightens his grip as best as he can.

The man jerks back again. There’s so much force this time that the shelves dig into the skin of his back, wood stabs into his head, and gets caught in his hair strands.

Chase loses his grip and falls, his back is throbbing, and it feels like a hammer is slamming into the temples of his head over and over again. Books seemingly fall from the sky, landing on his head, arms, hands, and legs. 

Instinctively, Chase covers his shirt pocket with his hand. He feels the outline of Buddy’s figure, how it’s crouched over and covering his head. He gently forms a fist around Buddy, shielding him from the dangers of this world.

“The Key.” The man growls. Chase kicks at his feet and legs, but this seems to only further irritate him.

He reaches over, hulking over Chase as a feeling deep and cold stabs into his heart. Chase briefly wonders if he has been stabbed, but realizes that it isn’t an object, but rather a feeling.

‘I’m scared.’

The man grabs a fistful of Chase’s shirt and pulls him forward. Chase closes his eyes, tightening his grip over Buddy but making sure he’s not being crushed.

“THE KEY! NOW!”

Chase feels the tips of those hardback covers he’s become all too familiar with.

“The key is a guy.”

He opens his eyes and stares into the man’s so intensely he flinches.

“And his name, IS NOX!”

With every fiber of strength, Chase throws his head towards the man who screams in pain. His hands wrap around the book, and Chase hits him with it. The man is pushed back enough for Chase to bring his legs up and kick him in the chest.

The man flies back, Chase hurries to his feet, and quickly scans the floor. Eyes landing on the thickest-looking book, he rushes over to grab it. Sweeping up the book in one hand—almost dropping it—and runs to the door.

He lets go of Buddy, holds the book with both hands and slams it into the doorknob. There’s a cracking noise, he slams the book again. The knob hangs off the door, he slams it again, and it falls right off. Chase runs towards the door, shoulder first, in full force, and it breaks open.

Both he and the door fall to the ground, and he feels his left ankle roll under him slightly. 

The floor is cold. It reminds him of his pillow, Silver’s key form when going into books, and his mother’s hand when he visits her.

He’s reminded of home, and with it, every reason to get up and run.

Chase raises his knee and presses his ankle, but it shouts in pain, and he slips back down. Looking forward, he sees Nox on the floor and pushes himself back up, past his sore knees and his likely twisted ankle. He sweeps Nox up, throws him into his pocket, and makes a run for it.

The halls are empty, the only thing bouncing off them being the sound of Chase’s shoes hitting the floor.

He turns the corner too quickly, his shoulder shoves into the wall. He grabs it but keeps moving.

Don’t stop.

Keep running.

He has to keep moving!

“Chase, are you okay?”

“I’m fin—”

“No, you’re not—”

“Well, I will be!” He has to be, “Are you okay? Did you get hurt in the fall?”

“No, but—”

“Good.”

“Chase—”

“We just need to find Deacon and Grandpa, and then we’re home free.”

Chapter Text

It started a month ago.

They were doing one last book. Just one more. Whatever its title, premise, or events were had far slipped past Chase’s memory.

It was just another book, a regular one. They had just done a stack yesterday, as they did the day before, and the day before that, and so on and so forth. It was just one final book; they likely didn’t even need to do it. They were sure they had enough Narratonion, but Chase wanted to be sure. He also wanted to see Buddy, so they could finally begin searching for him and Violet.

So, when Chase appeared into existence in the book, taking over what ever heroine, he had the biggest grin on his face.

He ran, he read the book (which he NEVER does) just to figure out Nox’s exact location for when they entered the book. Ignoring his grandfather’s calls to be careful coming from behind him.

When his dark hair came into view, Chase felt his heart lift, but as he drew closer, something felt off.

Buddy didn’t have a smile on his face, he didn’t have any costume on, Chase had never seen him in his key form, but he was pretty sure this was Nox’s outfit in a key form. He wasn’t looking at Chase with those scrunched eyes filled with love... Instead, they were open, wide, there was something in there, something that filled Chase with a sense of dread.

“Buddy,” He said, “What’s wrong? Is everything oka—"

“They found us.”

“What.”

Something in Chase fell, not physically, at least he didn’t think so. Buddy stayed in the same spot, but something in Chase fell. His shoulders went loose yet tense, and his lips fell, desperately trying to remember to form words.

“What do you mean?” His lips pulled back up, but there was a sense of nerves behind them now, “Who? Who found you? We—”

“Ex-Libris.”

There are moments in life that make up a human’s core memories. Like the day your child or younger sibling is born, or when you accomplished an important goal, a breakup, a wedding, watching the sunrise, watching the people you love to laugh and run. Moments that stay in our minds forever, like flowers slowly blossoming among the trees, and the stars glimmering in the sky. They wrap around our brain and heart and squeeze them with warmth or coldness.

Chase felt it when his father was diagnosed with Cancer.

When his mom got that call.

During a funeral.

When his mom called him from the hospital.

Chase, was not as fortunate as others for such moments.

He felt it again at this moment. The floor cracking, the wind blowing through him, something being torn into him and ripping out a piece of his heart.

Chase’s world shattered. And he wished he could have said he was used to it doing that by now.

The world had gone silent, or muffled, quiet, whatever the right word was. All Chase knew was that he couldn’t hear anything. He saw Deacon’s shoes appear next to his, heard the familiar stomp of his grandfather running behind them, and a dress appeared next to Deacon’s shoes.

And then a small girl, with dark blue ocean eyes, and a head full of red hair tugging on his pants experimentally. Eyebrows furrowed as she silently begged him to speak, to share the tugs and pulls at his heart out loud, and say he was okay.

Something is pushed into his hands, a jar, the liquid in it stirred gently. A beautiful teal color that reminded him of the sea and the waves, that reminded him of a certain boy. Who Chase thought, despite this color most likely looking awful on him, perfectly captured everything that made Nox beautiful.

“What—” Chase manages out.

“It’s my Narratonion,” Buddy says, “I don’t want them to have it.”

“B-Buddy—”

“Nox,” Ralph interjects, “How long do you both have?”

Chase looks at Buddy, really looks at him. He sees the way his eyes are frazzled and wide, a look he only has when things go bad. Really bad.

“I—I don’t know. Violet and I noticed you were in a book when we heard them get into the basement. They were trying to get the door open when I came in.”

“But,” Prunella now, “They can’t get Violet’s key out though—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Chase knew Deacon’s voice, he grew up hearing it almost every day, “All they need is the book. Wherever the book is, is where Violet and Buddy will appear when they leave.”

Was—Was this actually happening right now? No, it couldn’t be, this isn’t possible. He’s dreaming, he’s having a nightmare, going insane—THERE IS NO WAY THIS IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW—

“They found the library?!” Agatha shouted, the words ringing in Chase’s ear, “How?!”

“Wait,” Ralph again, “If they found you both, then what about us?”

“Grandpa—!”

“Deacon, I’m serious. If they found the library, they could be a block down from our doorstep!”

The muffled talking around him went quiet as Mrs. G gasped, Ralph freezing, and Deacon slowly turning to Chase. There were no voices to be muffled anymore.

Library…

Basement…

“Chase—” Someone’s voice, someone Chase knew.

Library… Basement… Grandpa’s front door…

Sugar Springs…

“Chase, I can explain—”

Library.

Silver.

Book.

Sugar Springs.

A block down from our house?

Buddy was in the basement of Sugar Spring’s library.

Something prickled in his eyes, and for the first time since he saw Buddy, he mustered the strength to look up. His eyes were full of betrayal, there was pain, in his heart, clawing its way through his throat as he choked out those words.

“Y-You knew?”

Grandpa Ralph’s face scrunched in this pain that Chase had never seen before, “Chase—”

“Grandpa,” Chase said gravely, “How long have you known?”

Ralph’s hands fell to his sides, clutching into fists so tight his knuckles began to turn white.

“I’ve known for—”

“We all know, Chase.”

Crash!

Something else within Chase shattered, as he turned to the source of the voice.

Deacon.

“You knew—”

“Chase—”

“You knew where he was—”

“We can explain—”

“You all knew where he was—?!”

“Charlie—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Because we knew you would bust into the library in the middle of the night, committing a felony! Or something just as stupid!” Deacon screamed back. “The last thing we needed was you getting arrested!”

“You knew—!” Chase screamed, taking a step towards Deacon who stumbled while taking one back, “You knew how hard I was looking for him! You stayed up all night with me! Helping me research! You kept saying everything would be fine, that we would find them! But, this whole time, you knew exactly where they were and didn’t do anything?!”

He tugs the jar close to his heart, as if it would shield him from the world, “You all did!”

His eyes scan the group, each and every one of them. Mrs. G., unable to maintain eye contact, Prunella looks shocked — she likely didn’t know either, Chase will have to apologize for raising his voice at her later — and his grandfather. His eyes look conflicted, like he feels guilty but knows something Chase doesn’t.

Then, with a deep breath, something trying to fight its way through his eyes, brows wrinkling into his skin. He drags his gaze to Nox, Buddy, his…

Something stabs him, something grabs Chase’s heart, pins it down, squeezing so hard he feels like he can’t breathe.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me…?”

It’s barely a whisper, like a hushed prayer, but Nox hears it, Chase knows he heard it. The almost hoarseness, the pain it holds. His voice is twisted and strangled, like he could barely even bring such words into existence.

“Chase—” Buddy holds his hand towards Chase, takes a step. But Chase hugs the jar closer, closes in on himself, eyes squish close and takes a step back. Sniffles fill the air as the cruel and haunting songs of betrayal try to escape his throat.

“I think—” Chase chokes out, a grunted cry being held back, “I think I need a minute—”

He turns and runs, runs away from his family, from friends, from his partner. As if the distance will run over the wounds and heal them.

Chase tugs the jar closer to his heart, and blinks away tears.

—

It had been so long since Chase had been to a beach. The last time was in that book with Buddy, and before that, it was all the way back in middle school.

They didn’t live in a coastal area, far from it. But, Chase remembers it perfectly. He had packed his bag a week prior, not a day, a night, a few hours, but a week.

To say he was excited was the understatement of the century.

So, when his alarm went off that morning, Chase was positively vibrating. His dad packed up all their bags, carefully organizing each and every one into the trunk of their car. His mom double checking their list of supplies, ensuring every item was packed. And Chase was in charge of the food, he was old enough to do so. And his mom and dad always made sure that any harmful foods were kept in a fridge and storage down in their basement. Ensuring their son’s safety, because no matter their feelings, or the inconvenience, he was their first priority.

It was a two-hour drive, but Chase didn’t mind, he loved every second of it. The car filling with music and the three of them singing, his mom saying as she always did how much she loved his voice. They played games, sat in silence, or just… Talked.

If nothing else, that was what Chase missed the most sometimes. Talking to his dad about anything and everything, or even nothing at all.

He missed having the choice to talk to his dad, having the chance to hear him respond back.

The beach was even better than the trip, unsurprisingly. Chase and his father immediately began building, “The greatest castles to ever exist. One’s only fit for the greatest Kings and Queen to have ever lived.” They dragged his mom out for a game of volleyball, Chase buried his father into the sand, only his head peeking out laughing as Chase fell to the floor holding his stomach, laughing too. They brought out their tiny pit (which had only been brought because of his mom doubling checking their luggage), and cooked hot dogs with chips, and grilled fruit.

Then, for an hour, they walked along the beach. The waves crashing into their feet, Chase racing his father as his mom stayed back. A light laugh filling the air as she watched the two most important men of her life run around and make memories together. Before settling back to their canopy and making smores. Chase watched as his parents held each other, heads laying against one another, and sharing a kiss, and he smiled. Their laughs, smiles, the sunlight shining down on them as the sky turned pink, their hair getting caught in the gorgeous warm palette of the sky; the memories and all the forms it takes being engraved forever into the sand.

As the sun had set, the sky turning orange and pink, Chase had followed his dad to the edge of the beach, his mom saying behind, packing up the last bit of towels. They didn’t walk any farther out to the sea, nor did they walk along the beach. They simply stood at the edge, watching the sun begin to slowly set.

Chase knew at that moment, that this was what it meant to be loved, truly and deeply.

Then, almost like his dad heard his thoughts, he bent over. Chase watched as his dad picked up a beautiful white shell, turning it over in his fingers, before kneeling to the ground, and holding it up to his son.

“Chase,” A soft smile on him, the blond hair he and Chase shared glowing in the sunlight. He held Chase’s hand, gently placing the shell into Chase’s, “You are going to experience many forms of love. But, one day, you’ll experience a love unlike one you have ever thought possible. You’ll meet someone who will learn every little thing about you, who will love every bit of you, who will find you again and again. No matter what happens. That type of love is rare, but it exists. And if you love them back just as much,” He cups Chase’s hands, “Never let them go. No matter what destiny or the universe tries to say or do. You both will always find your way back to each other.”

Those memories return to him now, his knees pulled tightly into his chest. The jar peacefully sitting next to him as he ran his hands through the sand. He grabs a fistful, holding it up to his eyes. Watching it slip through his fingers, wondering if this sand, too, holds memories unseen, despite its being made up of paper and letters.

“Hey.”

Chase knows that voice, he’s heard it in his dreams, had heard it in his ears whispering sweet words and hopeful promises. Had spoken to it about their future together, heard it sung (badly) to him before, declared it’s love for him, and so many more moments that only they know.

He turns around and is met with those beautiful blue eyes and raven hair.

“Hi.” Chase says back.

The air around them returns to silence, the waves crashing gently into the sand, before pulling back out into the sea. The sand crunches behind Chase as his partner moves closer, before taking a seat next to him.

They stay like that, for however long, Chase does not know, nor did he care that much at the time. Truthfully, he wanted to lay his head on Buddy’s shoulder, snuggle into his warmth and whisper he forgave him and to never let go.

But Chase knew, deep in his heart, that he was upset, and that as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to not feel that way.

“I’m sorry.”

The words hang in the air, like a deep confession made. Chase almost laughs, it reminds him of when they spoke about their feelings. How it was so messy, the words spilling out of his mouth without any rhyme or thought.

There’s shuffling, the sound of sand being dragged. When Chase looks up, he’s met with familiar grays and teals, a strap wrapped in gray. And for the first time, Chase can muster the ability to look at Nox.

“My bag…”

Buddy nods, “I’ve been… Wanting to return it.”

He pulls the bag into his lap, the sand softly falling onto his legs, and unzips. He’s met with the vitamins, half eaten chips and jerky, and some of the ramen.

Chase smiles when he realizes that all the chocolate is gone.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me…?” He whispers. But no response is given, so he turns to his partner, who is avoiding his gaze.

“Nox, we said we wouldn’t keep anything from each other anymore, how could you not tell me?”

He could hear the pleading, the desperation in his voice. Chase didn’t mean to sound like that, he didn’t want to pressure Buddy. But he also wanted to know, he had to know.

“Nox…”

This time, he saw a peek of those blue eyes, nervously glancing at the sand, then towards himself.

“You were—are right. I should have told you. It’s just, Violet and I were getting worried. We knew they were close, and I didn’t want them to find you. I didn’t want them to know how close you, or your family were to us.”

The fingers brush, and Chase chuckles.

“This is familiar.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just,” Chase gestures vaguely with his hand, “this. The beach, sitting here with you, trying to focus and not hold your hand because I’m upset with you,” That one gets a small laugh out of Buddy, and Chase smiles, “And…” His smile falls, “Talking about trust.”

Nox laughs, but Chase thinks he hears a sort of dryness to it, “Right, I almost forgot about that.”

“You forgot about the time I almost died?”

“WHA—of course not, I meant—”

“I can’t believe this!” Chase places a hand on his chest, another on his forehead dramatically, “The most important man in my life barely even remembers the time his lover almost died!”

Nox just gently pushes Chase, “Yeah right, I couldn’t forget you, and any moment with you even if I wanted to. Not that I want to…” But his smile soon fades, his face during grave along with his voice. “I’m sorry, you’re right, I should have told you.”

His eyes scrunch together, and Chase feels his heart tighten around him. But he knows he can’t just let go of it that easily. He needs time, time to process and forgive.

Time, of which, they don’t have.

“I just—I didn’t want you to get hurt. There are other people involved, Chase. For goodness’s sake, a child is involved. And Deacon said—”

“Why is Deacon always involved in this—” Chase mutters under his breath.

“—that you would act too reckless. And I get that, I love that about you. But I can’t have you, or your family, and Prunella getting hurt. I can’t.”

As much as Chase wants to freak out over a certain word that was just dropped, he ignores it. Pushes it down, because this is not the time to unpack that.

“You don’t get to make that choice for me, Nox. Just like how I don’t get to make that choice for you.”

“Chase—”

“No, Buddy, if I put myself in danger, then that’s my decision. Even if I get hurt, I got hurt knowing the risks. Because you are worth every risk.”

“Chase please,” Buddy begged, “I can’t let them hurt you—”

“And I can’t let them hurt you—"

“No, Chase, you don’t get it!” Nox’s breathing turns heavy, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his eyes wide, “I can handle that. I can handle them taking me, using me, hurting me. I can handle never being human again, never seeing the sun again, not being allowed to walk around, even not seeing you again—all of that, I can handle.”

Something in his eye’s shines, turning into glossy glass that threatens to spill over.

“But not you,” He cries, so quietly it almost blends with the waves crashing onto the beach, “I can’t handle them hurting you, taking you. I can’t,” His voice breaks, “I can’t handle the thought of them laying a finger on you.” His hands reach up, gently cupping Chase’s face, “I can’t lose you.”

The world goes quiet, Nox’s sobs muffled by the distant sound of those crashing and falling waves.

“And I can’t lose you…”

But I am…

The world goes silent, and it almost feels like even the waves have gone quiet. The world only filled with the sound of their cries, soft and quiet as their hearts weave into each other.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Buddy whispers.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

Nox chuckles, “You had every right to.”

“Yeah, I did.” They both laugh softly at that. And the world around them returns to silence. The waves crashing gently against sand, birds chirping.

Chase gently pushes his forehead closer, and Buddy returns the gesture. Chase’s hands gently reach up and cup Buddy’s face, the pads of his fingertips tangling themselves in his hair.

Buddy reaches up, hand resting on one of Chase’s, softly tugging it away and intertwining them.

“Don’t go,” Chase begs, twisting and tying their hands together even more, “Please. Stay right here, with me…”

Their foreheads press into each other, Chase feels like even this is too much distance. They aren’t close enough, so he pushes even further, and Nox follows. Taking a deep breath that shakes against a losing battle against tears.

“I’m sorry…” Buddy sobs, “I’m so sorry…”

Chase leaps, arms thrown around Buddy so hard they both fall onto the sand. Buddy’s hair displayed out, and Chase’s hair brushing against his lover’s cheek. Their sobs intertangling and crashing into one another, the sound carrying through the air like a haunting melody. Arms snake their way around Chase’s waist, grasping desperately to his shirt and pulling him closer and even then. There’s still too much distance.

Chase and Buddy cling to each other, the distance so small that their breaths are one. And even then, they’re still too far from the other.

“I’ll find you.”

“Chase, don’t—”

“No,” Chase chokes out, “I will. I’m going to find you, a-and Violet too. And we’re going to use your narratonion for you, not Deacon, or Grandpa, you. A-and we’re going to make you human, and I’m going to take you on a date. Not one in a book where we have to research a specific dumb enemies-to-lovers genre and ask to be alone. But a real one. A-and I don’t know where I’ll take you cause Sugar Springs is pretty damn boring.” Through the tears and choked sobs, they both chuckle, a beautiful sound to Chase that sounds like the perfect harmony to have ever exist. “But I swear I will, and it will be perfect because it’ll just be us. No magic, no book side characters, just us. I promise.”

And, perhaps foolishly, Nox can do nothing but only nod.

—

It was silent, unsaid to the two of them. But Deacon, Ralph, Agatha, and Prunella did everything in their power to let the two have the whole book together. As long as they could without the story falling apart on itself.

But there was only so much time in the world. And when they couldn’t hold it off any longer, when they couldn’t keep the plot together, they went to the beach. The sand crunching under their shoes, Chase could hear them, Deacon was sure of it. He knew it to be true when the two came into view, and he watched as Chase’s grip on the boy tightened.

Something in Deacon’s heart tightened for his cousin as well.

“Chase,” Deacon said, “We have to go…”

Chase only shakes his head harshly, a loud sniffle filling the air.

“Chase—”

“No.”

“The book is—”

“The book can go to hell—!” His voice cracked at the last word, his nails digging into Nox’s clothing, a sob screamed into the world. Burying his face into the crook of Buddy’s neck.

“They can’t have him!” He cried, another sniffle escaping. Then Chase looked up, his eyes meeting Deacon’s. And there was this… Fear, in it, this will, a fire, a—

A sense of rage, one that shook Deacon to his very core.

“I won’t let them! They’ll have to get through me, even if it kills me.”

“Chase—”

Nox’s voice was enough to snap Chase out of that rage, his eyes going soft, but Deacon had seen that rage, and it scared him. What on earth was that? He had never seen Chase make a face like that before.

Nox pulled back, though, it looked like it physically pained him to do so, his hands cupping Chase’s face. “You have to,” He said, his eyes watering, “We don’t know if they found you or not.”

Buddy reached into his pocket, his hands shaking, he pulled a small piece of paper out. Handing it to Chase, holding his hand so tightly his knuckles turned white.

“Violet wrote you all a letter, it’s important. Don’t lose it, okay? We weren’t able to destroy our book, so they have it. So, you can’t use Silver or Goldie anymore, okay? Ex-Libris will be able to track you with those two. But you have everyone else, so they can’t track anyone outside of those two.”

Chase shakes his head, “Don’t do this, please.”

A choked noise escapes Buddy, resting his head against Chase’s. “I’m so sorry, I love you.”

His hand grabs Chase’s key, pushing it towards his heart. Reaches past him, and places the jar and bag into Chase’s lap and hands.

Chase sobs, it’s the most broken sound Deacon has ever heard.

“I love you, too” He chokes out, pressing their lips together softly.

Their hands hold Silver’s key together, and Buddy presses it into Chase’s heart. Eyes locked, refusing to stray anywhere else.

“Take me home—” The last word cracks.

There’s a flash of light, and everything goes white.

—

He’s falling, at least, it feels like falling, but Chase knows that he’s being thrown out of the book harshly.

His back screams, and aches, his head pounding. But despite it all, he picks his body up, turning over to stand up, knees and hands planted into the ground. He tries to push himself up, but his strength fails him. He tries to stand again, but something in him freezes, his eyes are wet, and he feels like he’s been stabbed in the chest.

He can’t breathe, every inhale is short, but he tries, tries so hard, to breathe deeply. His stomach is twisted in knots, threatening to ball up into ugly clumps and crawl through his throat and out of his body. But he fights it back, God does he try to fight it back, and in the midst of the battle, an ugly, disgusting noise escapes his mouth.

He hears the flashing, but he barely even sees his room flash with white. But all at once, he hears shuffling, things, people getting thrown.

The world muffles, he thinks he hears something, no, someone, people, talking. Voices rushed and filled with panic and worry. And it makes that awful bile slowly rise up through Chase’s throat again as he tries to swallow it.

Amidst the muffled voices, only one enters his ears clearly.

“Chase!”

It’s light, and airy, and Chase knows it so well now that even just hearing her voice makes his heart twist ugly, stabbing him with thorns and needles.

How will he tell her?

“Chase!” Silver cries, grabbing her dress, holding it as she runs and jumps off the counter of the table. Landing harshly on her feet and ankles but she continues running towards the boy. Placing her tiny hands on his arm, “What happened?! What’s wrong?!”

Something in Silver ached and tore. Something awful, grabbing her from the inside and crushing her, if there was ever an emotion she thought would be crying, it must be this.

As she looked at Chase’s face, she felt something wanting to tear into her eyes, but couldn’t.

Amidst the soft whimpers and chokes, was Chase, teeth clenched together, knuckles turning white, and tears appearing in his eyes.

“Chase!” Someone yelled, placing their hand on his back.

The pat made something tear into him, crashing through his lungs and heart and up out of his throat.

An ear-piercing scream bounced off the walls, and through the house and property. It could only be described in one way.

Anguish.

—

To Chase,

If you are reading this, it means Ex-Libris has found us. I write this in case the scenario comes true. Nox and I have had our suspicions of Ex-Libris finding our location. We could only hide for so long, it was only a matter of time. Truthfully, I hope we are wrong, I hope that fate has other plans in store for us. And I hope they have not found you either.

Nevertheless, in the worst case scenario, I write this to guide you and your family to help find us, and to keep you all safe as well.

Ex-Libris has operated in the same old castle for centuries, since the founding members of Ex-Libris. And when Nox and I first escaped, it was still the same location, as such, I have little to suspect they will take us anywhere else. And if they do… Well, we can only hope they do not.

The castle is located on an island, it is where my family and I came into existence. As such, our very beings are connected to it, with the exception of Nox, who was born human. You may have seen it once when entering a book.

You’re not going to find it on any modern maps, you have to look at old ones. And I don’t mean those paper ones, I mean through books. History books, I know they are inaccurate now a days, but they are your best shot. It is located closer to Europe, though, I cannot tell you what part of Europe it is closer to. But attached to this letter is a small book filled with the floral and plants that I remember seeing. Along with deep detail of the temperature and weather there during the few times we were permitted to leave the castle. My siblings may know some details that I do not. I am sorry I could not be more specific.

Do not speak to Historians, some have joined Ex-Libris, and I do not know how far their influence stretches, so it’s best to play safe. If you must, be as vague as possible, do not mention keys, or Ex-Libris. Try your best to find primary sources, use libraries, however, due to Ex-Libris finding our location, do not go to the one in your town. You will be safer travelling out of town to a library, I don’t know how long you will have to travel, but it is the safer option.

We will try to recreate our book, and try to stay in contact as best as we can. Know they will not hurt us, they need us. And they will not have keyrings attached to us just yet, with the keys having been gone for so long, I suspect most members of the group will need to adjust. I am sorry I could not be of more help.

One final thing; Do not go into any books. Nox and I are not sure if we will be able to destroy our book in time, if we haven’t, I am sure he will have told you. And if we haven’t, do not go into any books. At least, Silver and Goldie cannot be used. I doubt Ex-Libris will destroy our book if it means tracking you all down. For your safety, Chase and Prunella, Silver and Goldie, do not go into any books.

Stay safe. To my family: I love all of you.

Chase, watch over my family, and watch over yours.

-Violet

Chapter Text

Chase didn’t get out of bed the next day. Or the day after that, or the day after that.

He didn’t get out of bed for a long time.

The keys didn’t tell a single soul, but for nights on end, they could hear the quiet sobs under their feet. Silver hugging herself closely, her siblings joining in as Chase’s cries echoed through the walls, seeping through the cracks and ringing through the attic.

He said his first words two days after they came out of the book.

“I’m sorry.”

Prunella had looked up, big eyes filled with confusion, she was only here to check up on Chase, so she wasn’t expecting an apology. Chase wasn’t looking at her, his back facing her, and Silver knew why. She didn’t need to think of another answer when she had been hearing those sobs and cries for two nights.

“Huh?” Prunella asked.

“I’m sorry,” His voice was hoarse and rough, “I’m sorry I raised my voice at you in the book. You didn’t know either, right? I’m sorry.”

Prunella didn’t say anything, and, almost uncharacteristically, simply walked over to Chase. Standing in front of him, and wrapping her arms around him, his hair almost poking her eye, but Prunella didn’t mind.

Chase’s breathing went shaky and uneven. And Silver felt as though something in her cracked, knowing that he wouldn’t allow himself to shed a single tear.

The keys knew he didn’t know, knew that he was unaware of his cries reaching past the ceiling and into the next floor. And they intended to keep it that way. Because every day, despite the cries, not getting out of bed, the puffed cheeks, red eyes, and dark bags. Despite every indication that he was in pain, he never spoke about it. Instead, every time the keys came down to visit him, every time Silver came down and spent the whole day with him, knitting or holding his hand as best as she can, he only asked about them.

He asked about Violet, asked how they were feeling, assured them everything would be fine, promised them, that they would get Violet back. They talked about their brother, the villain key, who they learned so soon was just, gone. How if they needed anything, anything at all, he would do it.

On the second week, Silver stayed the night with him. Making a little bed out of cardboards and asking Goldie and her other siblings if they could bring her blanket and pillow down as well. The ones she watched Chase sew and cut together, smiling through the pricked fingers and small band-aids on his finger.

The next night, Bronze stayed with him, dragging his mitten down and making himself at home, and then it was Goldie. Slowly, but surely, it became a silent rotation, between Silver and her nine siblings. But throughout all of it, the switches, keys moving constantly from one floor to the next;

Silver stayed by his side.

She watched him during the day, stayed up for hours just to ensure he fell asleep and didn’t cry himself to bed. She tucked him in, although it was difficult given her size, shared her food, made sure he ate, and so much more that she simply just didn’t keep track of.

She watched Deacon bring him food, Mr. Hollow filling the house with wonderful smells of gluten-free vanilla and strawberry (anything but chocolate, she noticed), and bring in pancakes, cakes, cupcakes, cookies, everything to him. Mrs. G bringing him fruits, and Prunella simply coming in and playing in his room. She was eight after all, and outside of that hug, she likely didn’t know how else to comfort such a deep sense of grief and depression.

But she tried, and Chase appreciated it, he thinks he appreciated it. It was the right thing to do after all.

… He hoped he appreciated it.

—

Silver, however, noticed something stirring in Chase. It was quiet, unnoticed and unseen, but she could see it. It stirred in his eyes, leaked in his voice, dripped from his fingertips. There was something building within him. Growing with every passing second, but Silver couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.

She knew it was never direct towards her, rather, she could feel his guilt within every one of their interactions. When he asked about Violet or their brother, asked about details about the castle, about their lives in the past. Every letter, word, sentence, oozed with a sense of guilt, and Silver worried that if nothing was to be done, then it would consume him. Twist and tangle its way through his heart, arms, legs, head, every part of him, and suffocate him.

Because that was the type of person Chase was. He always held his anguish in, only revealing it in the quiet empty area where no other soul was present except his. Silver was never quite one to be friends with grief, but if she had learned anything from her time with Chase; it was that some were closely connected to it.

And Chase, of course, knew grief very well, Silver knew he did, though he never dared to say it out loud to anyone. But she heard stories of his grandmother, though the memories were dim and fuzzy, the dreams of his father, of a beach where its waves crashed into their feet and their laughter filling the air, of his mother struggling to adjust being on her own all while taking care of her son. And throughout it all, Silver noticed the pattern in each one; of Chase smiling throughout all of it, of carrying the burden of pain and suffering on his shoulders and never once letting it go to rest until he was alone.

To some people he was strong, stronger than what most people desperately try to be. And Silver too, thought he was strong, but that strength could only last for so long. In her time with the Hollows, Silver had learned one thing.

Strength will snap, if not with the proper care and support.

Silver shakes her head, returning to her knitting, the deep green colored yarn turning its way through her needles. She was making a scarf for Violet, when she comes home, because she was coming home, Nox too. Because Silver cannot bear the thought of the alternative, no, there was no alternative.

They were going to come home.

There was a soft rapping against the door, Silver had been here long enough to know it was Deacon, the smell of soup sneaking past the crack of the door into the room.

Chase only groaned, leaving Silver to be the one to tell Deacon to come in.

He walked in with a tray, confirming Silver’s thoughts, he was bringing in soup, along with a cup of a hot drink Silver assumed was hot chocolate (gluten-free, of course). His feet softly pattering against the floor as he walked into the room.

“I brought some food. Grandpa made vegetable soup.”

Chase didn’t say anything, so, with furrowed eyebrows being forced to settle, Deacon walked over to the night stand where Silver sat. She smiled at the freckled boy. “Thank you, Deacon,” She said, “I’ll make sure he eats at least some of it.”

Deacon made a face, one she couldn’t quite read, but she knew that hint of confliction well enough, she saw it in Chase almost every day after the Cinderella book. The stress written in his eyes and eyebrows knowing now it was his thoughts and feelings on Nox.

Deacon sets the tray down softly, and stays for a moment, like he’s considering saying something. He still has that face even as he turns around and starts walking back to the door, but he stops.

“Chase, I… I know it’s hard. But we could really use your help.” Deacon says.

He is only met with silence once more, the only response being soft shifting of the bed sheets and pillows.

Silver turns to Deacon, “Maybe, we should have this conversation later. When Chase is feeling better.”

Deacon makes a face, glances back at Chase, and then quickly makes his way over to Silver. Crouching down on his knees in front of Chase’s night desk, his voice lower and quieter.

“But when is that? It’s almost been three weeks, and we still have no answers.”

Silver glances back at Chase, silently hoping he was asleep, “But we cannot rush Chase’s feelings. If he feels he cannot get out of bed, then there is nothing we can do besides be there for him.”

“That’s what we’ve been doing. If it was any other situation, I wouldn’t mind doing this for years, but…” Deacon looks down, fear and a deep-rooted sadness seeps its way through his eyes, “We don’t have that time. Silver, we need Chase. We can’t sit here caring for him forever, there’s only so much time—”

“I can hear you; you know.”

Deacon sighs and stands up, his face scrunching together for a moment, “I know, Chase.”

“Then you should also know that it’s rude to talk about people in front of them.”

“Chase—”

“Thank you for bringing me food, you can go now.”

“Chase—”

“I said you can go now, Deacon.”

“Chase—”

“Leave.”

“Chase—!” Deacon catches himself, brings his hands together, fingertips brush against his mouth as he takes a deep breath and collects himself.

“I know it hurts, Chase, I do. And I know I won’t—truly understand how much it hurts, because I am not you.” His hands lower, eyebrows furrowed as something radiating with sadness appears in his eyes. “But we need you Chase, Aunt Myra needs you, Buddy needs you—”

“Don’t say his name.”

“You don’t want to hear your boyfriend’s name?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“No! Chase! I don’t! Because you don’t talk to anyone!”

In a moment of rage, Chase flips over. The bedsheet flying off the bed, as Chase meets Deacon’s eyes. Chase’s cheeks are red, his face is puffy, but there’s a hidden look of rage in his eyes, “Because I don’t want to talk to you!”

“Chase—!” Deacon catches himself as his voice raises, clutching his hands close and pulling them to his mouth, taking a deep breath to collect himself. His voice softer but with a hint of an edge, “I know you are angry, and that you are upset with us. And I am sorry, but you need to—”

“I need to what, Deacon?! Get myself together?! Forgive you all?! You knew, Deacon! You knew where he was, and none of you told me!”

“We just didn’t want you to get in trouble—”

“Oh, BULLSHIT, Deacon,” Chase punches a nearby pillow, causing Silver to flinch ever so slightly and be briefly thrown into the air. Chase does not notice, “That is such BULLSHIT, and you know it is! You don’t get to decide what is or isn’t for my own good!”

“This isn’t just about you, Chase! There are other people involved! PRUNELLA is involved!” Deacon makes some stupid gesture with his hand, “They could target our families, our friends! What about Simon, or Ross?! What about my mom?! My dad?! What about Aunt Myra—”

“Keep my mom out of this!” That look of fury returns, and Deacon plants his feet firmly into the ground.

“I CAN’T, Chase! Because even if she is not involved, she’s connected!”

“But I could have saved him! He could be here—!”

“And then what, Chase?!” Deacon throws his arms in the air to heighten his point, “Then they, show up and see that Violet and Buddy aren’t there?! Then they would know that somebody nearby took them!”

“But at least they would be safe here for just a bit—!”

“Do you even hear yourself?! We still don’t know what this group is capable of—"

“This wouldn’t have even happened if you jUST TOLD ME!” He grabs something, whatever it is doesn’t matter, it’s in his hands, and Chase chucks it with a with such force something cracks. His arm pulsing and tearing with pain, and he screams, anguish running over every bit of his voice. Turning it guttural and something so sharp it cuts through Deacon like a knife has been run into his arms, head, stomach, and heart.

“Why didn’t you tell me, why?!” His screams turning into sobs as his voice begins to waver.

“Chase—”

“DON’T—” Chase holds a finger up to Deacon, that fury almost returning into his eyes but there’s pain behind it now, “Do not say it was because you didn’t trust me! Because that’s exactly what it was, you didn’t trust me!”

Silence fills the room, it fills the air, infects their lungs, the only thing filling it being the sounds of quiet sobs. Cutting through the air and walls like a knife cutting through cement.

“You could have sat me down,” Chase cries, quiet hiccups cutting into his words, “We could have talked it out. Why didn’t you tell me?” Chase looks up to his cousin, their eyes locking. And Deacon feels like he has just been stabbed. “Was I not dependable enough? Was that it? I tried so hard, I did my best, and it still was not ENOUGH!”

Something in Chase buckles, weakens and he falls to the floor, his hands just barely catching his weight. Despite it all, his wrists feel sore, his knees ache, the pain swirls around him like a snake and pulsate through his entire body.

“I don’t even know where he is, I can’t see him, I can’t hear his voice. He is alive but he’s gone, and I don’t think I can do this! It’s too much!”

There are footsteps, and Chase sees a pair of white socks come into view before quickly replaced by familiar brown hair. He feels someone hold his arms gently and instinctively Chase grabs back. Not because it is Deacon, but because Chase feels like he needs to hold onto something or else he’ll crack and shatter and lose himself into the endless void of darkness.

“I can’t—I can’t do this! I am so angry at you, and grandpa, and Mrs. G, and—and even Buddy, but I feel like I can’t breathe, and I keep thinking what if I did something else?! What if I tried harder? What if—"

He can’t breathe anymore, the room filing with sobs and hyperventilation.

“Chase—”

“JUST—” The words get caught in Chase’s throat, and he pulls his hands away. “Go. Leave me alone…”

“Chase—”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” Chase screams, his arms pulling up and he shoves something.

Chase feels like he has been ripped into pieces when he looks up and see’s Deacon on the ground. His face pushed together in a sense of pain. Oh God, Chase pushed him. How hard did he shove him? Did Deacon did get hurt? What if Chase made him break a bone? Or fracture one? Or whatever dumb stupid long complicated word Deacon uses that means breaking bone. No, no it’s not stupid, Deacon isn’t stupid. He is the smartest person Chase knows, and he’s his cousin, and Chase loves him like a brother. But do brother’s hurt each other? Do they shove one another when angry? Scream at the other when things become too much? He cannot do this. Chase cannot do this. His chest is heavy, his heart screaming, there’s black spots, he cannot—

“Boys!” Chase recognizes his grandfather’s footsteps, “What’s going on her—”

“GO AWAY!” Chase screams, grabbing something—anything—and throwing it again. “Just go away! Leave me alone!”

“Chase,” His grandfather, “Are you o—”

“Please…” Chase pleads, his voice cracking and hoarse, his arms wrapping around him as he bends over, his forehead touching the cool surface of wood, “I can’t do this,” he breathes in a hushed voice, “Please, leave me alone…”

The room fell silent, only filled with the sounds of smothered sobs digging their way into the wood of the floor.

“I think,” Silver’s gentle voice cuts through the air and tension, “It would be best if you two leave and give Chase some room.”

“But Silver—” Deacon begins, but Silver shakes her head, her voice firm, and her face straight and stern.

“Chase needs space, and we should give it to him.”

There is more talking, but Chase pays it no mind. His heart pounded against his head, filling his ears, and infecting his chest. He vaguely hears footsteps growing weaker and weaker, before they disappear completely. They are soon replaced but softer, more metallic footsteps inching closer to him.

“Chase,” Silver begins, “Do you want me to leave as well?”

Does he? He knows he said he wanted to be alone, but truthfully, he just wanted Deacon and Grandpa to go away. He did not want to be comforted, at least not by them. He isn’t ready for that, the surge of rage he feels when he thinks about them scares him. He’s terrified it will grow and fester into something dangerous. Though Silver has told him that it will never happen, because he loves them no matter how angry he is.

But as he looks up, his eyes meeting Silver’s pink tourmaline eyes, he finds his answer. “… No. Please stay.”

“Okay.”

—

Getting Chase back into bed was a bit of a challenge, given Silver’s size and all.

She had to ease Chase into it, giving him gentle encouragement, rubbing his arm, and holding the tip of his finger. For brief moments, sometimes Silver wished she was the size of a regular human, she never said it out loud, but moments like these were when she felt the most helpless.

Had she been the same size as Chase, had she been human, she would have held him. Taken all his weight and carried him to the bed, fed him soup, washed his hair.

She would have been Chase’s strength.

But this isn’t that world, and Silver isn’t human. And as much as she hated to admit it, he needed more than the strength she could provide.

So, as she encourages Chase to eat the soup, supporting his hand for only a moment before it’s pulled out of her reach, Silver tells herself that she is doing everything she can.

It does little to comfort her.

“I’m sorry you had to see all of that…”

The words pull her out of her thoughts, Silver turned to Chase, who had a conflicted look on his face.

“Don’t be,” Is her response, “It’s okay.” Silver goes silent, pondering quietly to herself for a moment, “But I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to.”

—

Truthfully, Chase wasn’t looking forward to this Friday.

They hadn’t gone last week, because his mom had a doctor’s appointment that drained her of all her energy. So, Chase had instead called her, it was easier to have a convincing cheerful tone when you didn’t have to worry about what type of face you were making.

There was no excuse today though.

“You should go visit her, Chase.” Silver said, looking outside the window as Chase changed clothes.

“I know,” He said, he could hear how dull his voice sounded, “I just… I don’t know. It’s a lot.”

He didn’t see Silver’s face, but he could hear the way her eyebrows scrunched up, eyes filled with sympathy and worry, “I know it is, Chase. But…”

Her words ended, but Chase knew exactly what Silver meant. His mom was getting worse, and while they had enough Narratonin, they didn’t have Nox and Violet. There was nothing they could do, and even then…

Chase walks over to his desk, eyes landing on the jar that once belonged to Buddy. He picks it up carefully, the glass cold against his skin, and shook it around ever so slightly. Watching the teal liquid inside it stir and roll around, as something else stirred within Chase, smothering his heart so much he almost felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He places the jar back down, his fingers lingering for only a second. Before turning to his jar, unscrewing the lid, and pulling over the tea Silver had brought him earlier.

“You don’t need to do that.”

Chase knows that voice, he doesn’t turn around to see who it is.

“Yes, I do.” Chase says, “Mom needs it.”

“No, I meant,” Deacon’s footsteps grow closer, and something is placed on the desk. A much smaller jar almost halfway filled up with that familiar teal liquid, “You don’t have to use any Narratonin from that jar.”

Chase feels his eyes widen and water, “Deacon—”

“We don’t want you to use any of the Narratonin in that jar, save it for the wish.”

Without any other word, Deacon left the room. While Chase knows it was not Deacon’s intention, he was left with that horrible sense of guilt in his chest.

—

The ride was quiet, the radio being played softly, but Chase could barely hear it. The keys having been left with Prunella and Agatha for safety.

Nothing was much different when they arrived, at least, Chase didn’t think there was. If they made faces, comments, asked about him, he didn’t notice. Uncle Dale did ask why he was so quiet, but Chase checked out the moment his grandfather interjected.

He silently walked past them, slinked his way up the stairs, past the halls, and stand in front of a door, where he knocked gently. A voice tells him to come in, with his hand on the knob, Chase takes in a deep breath, smiles, and opens the door.

“Hi, Mom.”

“What’s wrong?”

Chase stops dead in his tracks, looking over to his mother, her eyebrows pushed up and lips pursed together, “Huh?”

She makes a face, one Chase can’t read, “You’re my son, I will always notice if something is wrong.”

Chase forces his smile to grow, “Nothing’s wrong! I’m fine.”

“Charlie—”

“Mom, seriously.”

“No,” She holds up a finger, “You know better than to play that game with me.”

Chase pulls a chair to her bed, his knee bouncing as he sits down, “I’m not, mom. It’s just, you’re…” He stops, pulling himself together, he can’t cry, not here, not now. “You have a lot going on. And my thing, it’s not that big.”

The room falls quiet, a gentle hand lands on his, the skin almost wrapping around the bone. But Chase looks up, and he feels himself crack at the sight of his mother. Eyes squished with worry and heartbreak.

“But I am still your mother,” Her voice cracks, tears welling up and reflecting the sunlight, “And as long as I am still here breathing, you can come to me about anything.”

“But, mom, you’re—”

“No,” Her voice strong, face firm, and Chase suddenly sees the mother he grew up with, before the call, before the treatments, before everything, “You are my baby. And you will always come first.”

All at once, the dam cracks and breaks.

Chase remembers his dad chasing him down the halls of his home, laughing and playfully screaming with joy.

How his dad would wrap his arm around Chase or throw him in the air when he was barely tall enough to reach the doorknobs. How he and Deacon would play hide-and-seek, and Deacon would sometimes give away his location because he could barely conceal his giggles.

How their dads’ would take them to the park, Chase sitting on a bike as his father held his hands tightly, showing him how to move the pedals and stop properly. How they joined their moms for trips to restaurants during the days Aunt Beth had off. Stopping by that same park to get their son’s ice cream.

He remembers the beach, the taste of salt on his tongue, the smell of fish gently wafting in the air. How his dad once quickly swept him up from the ocean from a jellyfish, taking the sting for him.

Chase remembers how badly he felt for that one, his parents had been telling him not to go too far out. But he was caught in his curiosity’s grip, imagination taking a hold of him as he walked further out. He apologized, so much, but his dad only chuckled and ruffled his hair.

“It’s okay, as long as I am here, I will always protect you. But that doesn’t mean you can go out looking for trouble, you hear?”

He remembers being rushed to the hospital, the sickening smell that filled the air. Sitting on a chair in the hallway swinging his legs. His mom coming out to guide him in and seeing so many wires. And how he stopped by almost every day after school to see his dad, the nurses practically having to escort him out every night.

His friends laughing as his eyes were glued to the floor, wondering how to even bring it up.

The strands of hair on the bathroom floor as a buzzing noise filled the halls.

A nurse quickly grabbing him and his mother, his father’s coughs haunting the walls as a doctor and other nurses rushed in. The sight of his father’s hand, gripping the handle of his bed so tightly his knuckles turned white, and seeing it suddenly fall.

Chase remembers the quiet smiles, the pigment in his father’s skin slowly dying, but that light somehow surviving through all of it.

He remembers that light going dim before it disappeared entirely.

How it felt like the ground shattered under him, falling through an endless depth of darkness.

It was raining during the funeral, his mom holding herself together. Shoulders scrunched, face twisted as she held her son. Uncle Dale, too, was crying, no, that is not the right word, he was sobbing. Hunched over ever so slightly, head turned to his wife’s shoulder as she held him, face stiff but wrecked with a sense of grief. Deacon on her other side, squared shoulders as he tried to hold it in, before succumbing to the depths of pain.

Chase didn’t cry. And for a while, he wondered if something was wrong with him. He loved his father, truly and deeply, more than anything. Yet, despite the hollowness in his chest, the thoughts swirling around in his head, he did not cry.

And then the dirt started to be shoveled.

‘Oh,’ Chase thought, ‘I don’t have a dad anymore.’

His mother had pulled him in, turning his eyes away from the sight as his hiccups and sobs were buried into her dress.

The house was quiet, and it’s silence cracked through the walls and into the furniture. Echoing through his ears during the late nights. His door locked and closed, pillow pushed against his mouth as he sobbed.

He started high school, and more than anything he wanted to take a picture with his dad.

Deacon moved away, and the world felt lonelier, quieter.

He remembers the phone call from his mom, how his screen shattered when he dropped it, but he didn’t care.

He got ready for Prom at his aunt and uncle’s house, he didn’t mind the car ride. He just wanted to be able to take a picture with his mom.

He pretended during Graduation that his mom was in the crowd watching him walk up the stage, and that she wasn’t on a bed at his aunt and uncle’s house. That his dad was in the crowd too, waiting to take a picture with both of them.

His fingers running across a silver key with a rose on the front, cold and almost dusty.

Falling through the air as that once familiar scent of waves, sea and fish filled his senses. A beautiful beach awaiting him.

He remembers Silver sacred him half to death, and the guilt that racked his heart when he dropped her. Bandaging his fingers after building her a little home.

He remembers a certain dumb raven haired boy pinning him against the wall, fist wrapped around his shirt as Chase futility tried to convince himself that this guy was not attractive in any way, shape or form.

He remembers the flea market, chasing Deacon down, meeting Bronze, the beach with Buddy, Prunella, Goldie, the kiss.

He remembers Mrs. G and his grandfather losing their minds over the “summer job” the kids had.

Playing with dark hair, as the stars shined brightly. A deep sense of unsatisfaction in his heart as he wished he could run his fingers through this boy’s hair, hold his hand, press against his lips, walk around his town in reality. The frustration in his chest at having to do such dumb research behind books and the characters roles just to have a date. Holding Buddy’s hand as Chase told him he loved him no matter what, promising to make him human again. Finding a grey hair after a particularly stressful visit with his mom. Running through books, the light on his computer burning into his eyes as the clock ticked on and the sun rose. Clutching Buddy’s shirt tightly, refusing to let go, sand tangled in their hair as he thought about the book in Ex-Libris’s hands. Taking and dragging away the love of his life as he sat here and held him, unable to do anything.

The flood rushes through, rolling down Chase’s cheeks uncontrollably. His face feels hot, like he’s on fire, lips quiver rapidly.

His shoulders squeeze together tightly, as gasps escape through his lips. His chest tightens and chokes, strangled noises push their way up his throat and out of his mouth. His back hunches over, hands flying to his face as grief washes over him and sweeps him away.

“I know you don’t expect me to,” He cries, “I know no one expects me to, but I’m so-tired. I’m tired of trying to stay optimistic, I miss dad, and I miss living with you, I miss my friends, I miss going to school, I miss Nox. And I feel—like nothing is going to get better. I want to get up, I want to get better and help. But I’m so tired, I feel like there’s no point in trying. All I’ve done is try, and try, and smile, crack jokes, but I can’t—I can’t do it anymore! I want to go home! But I don’t even know where home is! I want things to go back to normal!”

He hears his mom sniffle, her sobs choked. “Oh, my poor boy!” Her hands run through his hair, reminding him of when he was a child, “You’ve been so strong for so long. But you don’t have to keep it in, okay?”

Chase shakes his head, “But I—”

“No,” That voice comes back, another sniffle comes from her, and she gasps lightly, “You don’t have to be strong anymore. Not for me, not for Deacon, and not for, this Nox person.”

“He’s, my boyfriend.” He sobs, and his mom smiles proudly.

“Is that so? I can’t wait to meet him.”

Chase sobs in response, and he feels warmth seep into his cheeks, gently tugging him to look up at his mother’s deep blue eyes. “You don’t have to hold this in anymore, baby. Let us support you, let us, your family and friends, hold you when you can’t hold yourself anymore.”

Chase pushes his body forward, and falls.

And like so many times before, his mother catches him. Her arms wrapping around him tightly and holding him to her heart.

Her warmth radiates from her skin, seeping into Chase’s hair and arms. Something gentle travels through the air, through his lungs and his body.

Chase takes a deep breathe, and, perhaps, for the first time in years, relaxes.

—

When they return home, after picking up the keys, the sun having set not that long ago. Silver was, as usual, sitting on his night stand, knitting something for Violet.

He had just changed his shirt when he heard knocking on the door.

“Come in.” Chase answered, spotting Silver’s surprised face and eventual smile.

The door creaked as it opened, and Deacon slowly walked in, a hint of hesitation in his movement. He was carrying a tray, this time with a plate on it and a glass cup. He looked surprised when he saw Chase standing.

They hadn’t spoken to each other for a few days, not since their argument.

“Uh,” He cleared his throat, “Grandpa made grilled chicken, with a side of vegetables.”

Chase coughed weakly, “Thanks.” He said, taking the tray from Deacon and placing it on his desk.

He expected Deacon to leave, but, to a bit of Chase’s relief, Deacon didn’t. Instead, he stood there awkwardly, shifting from one foot to another.

Chase was smart enough to take the hint, “Do you want to sit down?” He asked, gesturing to the bed.

“Yeah, sure.”

Deacon sat first, and Chase followed right after, the bed sheets shifting under their weight. But as they sat there, neither of them said anything. At least, not for a few moments.

It was Deacon who broke the silence.

“I’m sorry.” He said, and something in Chase shifted. “I’m sorry,” He said again, “That we didn’t tell you. You are right, we should have told you. And I’m sorry we didn’t, I’m sorry we didn’t trust you enough, and I’m sorry I made you feel like we didn’t trust you.”

Chase didn’t know what to say, he merely sat there, taking in Deacon’s words as he continued.

“You are allowed to feel this way, Chase, it’s normal to feel this way. And I am, so sorry, if I made you feel like you weren’t.”

For a moment, Chase doesn’t say anything, the room only filled with the crickets chirping from outside.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Chase whispers, “I’m sorry I took my anger out on you. I’m just... I’m so angry, but also, so hurt. Sometimes I want to yell, scream, and throw things. But I also want to fall to the floor and never get up. It’s hard to get up, to eat, sometimes it’s even hard to sleep.” Chase pulls his hand up, and gently flexes it, “And sometimes, I just get, so angry. Like I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“I saw him every day, you know,” Chase went on, “Summer’s almost over. Every day for almost three, four? Months. He became a part of my day, my routine. Every time I entered a book, I knew he was there. When I started liking him, I woke up excited every day, because I knew I would get to see him.” Chase begins to fidget with his sleeve, “This is different than normal grief. Because he’s still here, he’s still alive, but I can’t see him. You were right, he needs me, and I need to find him.”

Silence fell upon them, but for the first time in a while, both knew that they didn’t need to say anything. At least, not for a moment, not as the clock in Chase’s room ticked away, the wind gently blowing against the window.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Deacon murmurs, the apology almost being swept away by the wind.

“I’m sorry I threw a book at you.” Chase says.

“I’m… Also sorry I raised my voice at you.”

“I’m sorry for yelling too, and, for pushing you…”

“You should be, it hurt.” They both laugh at that, the chuckle bouncing off their ears, “Just kidding. I was fine.”

Their voices, and their laughter along with it, fell quiet. And while it wasn’t obvious, there was a shift in the room, Deacon felt it, and Silver felt it too. Something in the room changed, the air turning serious, like a fire growing and crackling in the air.

“Starting tomorrow, I’m helping.”

The words hung in the air, with it, a realization from Deacon and Silver. The room had not shifted, the air did not change.

Rather, it was Chase who had changed, his eyes burning, that fury returning, as something gnawed against his chest. His nails digging into his hands as his knuckles turned white. Something stirring like a fierce whirlpool, but Chase didn’t fight it, he didn’t want to, he embraced it like a mother hugging their child.

“We’re getting them back. Violet and Nox are coming home. We’re taking Ex-Libris down, once and for all.”

Chapter Text

“Chase, is that really necessary?”

Chase adjusts some glasses while swiping through fake mustaches as though a kid at the doctor’s office trying to pick which sticker they wanted, “I think it is.” He says as he takes of the glasses.

Deacon sighs, returning his attention back to the road, the same road they had been staring at for a little over four hours now. They had decided the previous night to drive to a small town four and a half hours out of Sugar Springs, all to place some distance between themselves and the library where Ex-Libris had taken Buddy and Violet.

They had left early in the morning, waking up around seven, much to Chase’s annoyance, seeing as he had to be dragged out of his bed, down the stairs, and into the kitchen to eat some breakfast. By eight, they were on the road.

Initially, Chase had complained the whole time, about how early it was, how he didn’t have time for his skin care routine (which confused Deacon, seeing as Chase hadn’t done it in almost three weeks). But for the past two hours, he seemed to have calmed down.

“How much longer till we get there?” Chase asked, finding a fake mustache he was happy with and placing the rest in his bag.

Deacon glanced at the GPS, and clicked his tongue, “About thirty minutes.”

Chase groaned loudly, leaning back against his chair, “I’m so bored!” He places his elbow on the car door against the window, “I wish Nox was here…”

It’s so quiet that had the AC just been a little louder, the volume a littler higher on the radio, Deacon would have missed it. In fact, he’s pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to hear that.

So, he just glanced at Chase before returning his eyes back to the road.

The rest of the ride was quiet, and uneventful. Deacon almost sighed of relief when the library came into view.

It was an old one, built in 1654, the building clearly showed its age. While clearly maintained, it looked like it had been built with wood, or bricks, Deacon couldn’t tell from this distance. With marble pillars standing proudly against the test of time in front of old wooden double doors.

“Is that it?” Chase asked as they drove closer to a green sign.

The Library of Shade

Deacon nodded, “Yeah, this is it.”

Deacon didn’t say it, but there was a tug in his chest as he pulled into the parking lot. Something scratching against his chest and head, as though trying to claw its way into the surface and make itself known.

As he picked a parking spot, he decided to ignore the feeling, something about it felt strange, and he really didn’t feel like being even more paranoid than he already felt while here. The truck was near enough to the entrance that it was not a horrible walk, but far enough that most people won’t notice it. He didn’t want anything happening to Ralph’s truck after all.

“I still can’t believe there was such an old library so close to where we lived.” Deacon says, earning a dry laugh from Chase.

“I wouldn’t call a four-hour drive ‘close’ to where we live, Dorkin.”

Deacon rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.” He says as he put the car in park. He leans over past Chase, popping open the glove box and pulling out a mask. “Alright,” He begins, “You remember our cover stories?”

Chase nods as he pulls out his glasses, “We’re friends, partners in the same course, and researching over old European maps for a Final.”

“Good. And Buddy’s name is…?”

Chase groans, “Ray.”

“Okay, just making sure.”

They had gone through extensive cover stories, even going so far as to dress differently. With Deacon borrowing one of Chase’s oversized jackets that he swears he’s going to grow into any day now. And a pair of pants that Deacon had bought but has never had the courage to wear until now.

Chase had ransacked Deacon’s closet, picking one of his lame white button-up shirts (leaving it unbuttoned cause Chase isn’t about to go that far), and a T-shirt. Along with some brown shorts and a regular pair of shoes.

Chase had never felt so lame before.

Right as Deacon puts on his mask, he looks over to his cousin. Who was happily peeling his fake mustache off its protective layer. Clearly overjoyed to be putting some sort of creative spin on such a lame outfit.

He pulls down the sun visor, carefully aligning the mustache before sticking it on. He looks at himself in the mirror, and a smug grin appears on his face, clearly proud of such a genius idea.

Deacon stares at his fool of a cousin for approximately ten seconds before leaning over and ripping the mustache off.

“OW, Dude what the he—”

“Do you want Ex-Libris knocking on our door?!”

“… I mean… If they have Buddy with them—”

“CHASE, SO HELP ME GOD—”

“Okay, fine!” Chase holds his hands up in defeat, “Audience clearly doesn’t like the mustache. At least I have these!”

He puts on the pair of glasses, and something about them looks off.

Wait…

“Can I see those?” Deacon asks, Chase gives him a weird look.

“Uh, sure?”

Taking the glasses in his hands, Deacon examines them carefully and…

… Oh my God.

“… Chase.”

“Yeah?”

“These glasses don’t have any lenses. They’re just frames.”

“Okay?”

“Chase, they’re very obviously fake.”

“Oh.”

“Did you—not think about that? It’s one thing to have clear lenses, but these don’t have any, Chase! They’re just empty frames!”

“Uh, oops?”

“CHASE—” Deacon catches himself, pushing the palms of his hands together and pressing them against his mouth. His eyes closed as he takes in a deep breath to collect himself, before leaning over to the backseat. Chase hears Deacon unzip his backpack along with some shuffling before coming back with a pair of glasses in his hands.

“Here.” Deacon says, Chase takes them, an eyebrow raised as he examines them before holding them up to his eyes.

They don’t affect his vision, which means… They’re, also fake glasses, with clear lenses.

“Why do you have this?” Chase asks as he slips them on, pulling the sun visor down and opening the mirror. A smug grin grows on his lips because DANG does he look good.

He glances back at Deacon, who is hardcore avoiding eye contact. “No reason.”

Chase grins, “Is it because that one girl said you would look good in glasses—?”

“IT’S TIME TO STOP TALKING—"

—

With their cover stories well memorized, the pair leave the truck, Chase slamming the door a little too hard that Deacon looks like he’s one minor inconvenience away from taking his backpack off and chucking it at Chase.

As the gravel crunches under their footsteps, that feeling grows stronger.

He doesn’t like that.

When they reach the door, Deacon extends a hand and holds it open for Chase, allowing his cousin to go in first.

One step in, and it almost feels like the ground shakes underneath Chase’s feet. Something rings in his ears, echoes in his head, and an ominous, almost suffocating feeling snakes its way in his chest.

It makes Chase shiver involuntarily, and he doesn’t need to roll up his sleeves to know he has goosebumps, the hair on his arms standing up. He can feel them brushing against the fabric of his sleeves, and something unpleasant stirs in his stomach.

If Deacon felt it too, he did a good job at hiding it.

Chase swallows a lump in his throat, shoving that weird dumb feeling aside and taking the lead. He leads his cousin deeper into the building, their steps making the floor creak under them.

“Hello!” A light friendly voice greets them. Chase turned to the desk, greeted by a girl with short chocolate brown hair and eyes, who seems to be the same age as him, if not older.

“Oh-uh-hi! Do you know where the history section is?” Deacon elbows him slightly. Oh right, they’re not really supposed to let anyone know why they’re here.

The girl, whose nametag says “Ana”, looks confused for a moment, tilting her head. Before seemingly brushing it off and pointing past the cousins, “All the way to the back, on the left. There should be a sign that says, “History section”, one of my co-workers should be back there, if you need any help.” She smiles in a warm way, and Chase can practically feel Deacon melting from its warmth. Chase rolls his eyes lightly before thanking the girl and dragging his cousin away.

They walk through the library, only seeing a handful of other patrons. It’s so quiet that their footsteps echo through the halls. The walls made up of an old stone that looks faded and dusty. Some books have more modern covers on them, one has a redhead woman in a gorgeous ruffled blue dress, another with a dark blue spine and a Ferris wheel. But others are not as lucky, some have covers entirely missing, spines worn and torn. They pass by one colored deep royal blue and despite its age, Chase is mesmerized by its use of golden letters and patterns.

“Here it is.” Deacon’s voice cuts through Chase’s trance, pulling him back into reality. He turns his head forward, finding a sign with the words, “History” in dark bold letters. He hears Deacon sigh, and lowers his view to his cousin, whose shoulders are slumped yet tight.

“It isn’t good that there’s another worker in this section of the library.” Deacon whispers as a blonde girl pushing a cart passing by them, voice so hushed Chase can barely hear it.

Chase thinks for a moment, “It might be. We might need help.”

“Yes, but remember what Violet said? We don’t know how far their influence stretches.”

“We could ask Ana, she seemed nice.”

“You already know her name—?!” Deacon takes in a deep breath, “We don’t know that for sure, Chase. It’s best to keep to ourselves, try not to get any attention from the other workers.”

Chase huffs, mumbling under his breath about how paranoid Deacon is. But he knows Deacon is right, as Chase scans through the small gaps between books, he catches sight of at least two other workers. A girl with long dark hair and glasses, carefully organizing some books in a cart, and a boy a bit father back, closer to the wall organizing a cart of books into shelves, his hair reminds him of Buddy, tied up in a small loose ponytail.

The girl looks up, their eyes meet for a second and Chase hastily looks away.

Oh my God, we haven’t even been here for five minutes, and I already blew our cover!

He takes another glance at the girl and is relieved to see that she has gone back to organizing the books in the cart.

“They seem to be busy.” Chase whispers to his cousin.

“They?!”

“Yeah, there’s two of them.”

Deacon’s head falls, shoulders further slumping down. “That’s just perfect, exactly what we need.”

“Relaaax, Dorkin’” Chase whispers, giving a strong pat on Deacon’s back that almost knocks his cousin over, oops, “Like I said, they look busy. They do work here after all, they’re both putting some books into shelves or something. And I doubt some high school and college students would be involved in something like this.”

“You never know, “Deacon’s voice almost sounds grave, “We’re college aged, and we’re involved.”

Chase tenses up, “Well… It’s a small town. So, I don’t know, I just think it’s unlikely. And again, the workers here seem busy.”

The energy seems to return to Deacon, his shoulders loosening just a bit. “Well, at least we have that.”

They reach the end of the aisle, finding a few wooden tables against the wall. Deacon leads the way to a small booth tucked away in the corner. “Let’s use this one,” he says, taking off his backpack and pulling his mask under his chin to breathe.

Chase tugs off the strap of his bag—the same one he gave Buddy, the same one returned to him just three weeks ago—and places it on the table across from Deacon’s.

Wordlessly, Deacon sets off to the history section, and Chase follows. Scanning every book—some more modern, others dusted and faded. Chase runs his fingers along the spines as they walk, wondering whose hands they were once held by. Were they rough or soft? Did they love someone deeply?

Maybe there was someone they wanted to save as well.

“There’s so many…” Chase whispers, eyes locked in awe at the books, “Where would we even start?”

Deacon hums, contemplating Chase’s words, “Maybe ones that cover certain parts of the world.”

“You mean Europe?”

“Yes, Chase. Europe.”

“Do you know how little that narrows it down?”

Deacon lets out an exasperated sigh, “Yes, Chase. I do.”

Chase pushes his lower lip up, in a sort of pouting way. But he feels it fall when Buddy appears in his head. Is he okay? Where are they keeping him? Can he see the sun? Is he buried beyond the ground? Shoved into a drawer?

“Here.”

Chase looks up to the sight of Deacon handing him a thick looking book. But he has this face squinted with slight pain, eyebrows flooded with worry.

Oh, Chase must have been making a face.

“Oh, yeah, sure, dude.” Chase says, grabbing the book from Deacon, who shuffles around his feet for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck.

“If it’ll help,” Deacon begins, “Try looking for history books that have the word ‘Europe’ or ‘European’.”

Chase can only nod, walking past Deacon and into another aisle of history books. Footsteps echoing against the wood that must be centuries old by now. His eyes land on the first book with the word “Europe” and without a second thought, Chase picks it up.

He continues this routine absentmindedly. Returning to the table at some point and to see Deacon had beaten him to it. He sets the books down, pulling out the chair with an awkward screech so loud Chase looks down because oh my God, WHY?!

His cringes but takes a seat. Grabbing the first book on the stack, opening to the first page, and is met with tiny font and long paragraphs.

Mmm.

Yes.

Words.

Uh.

Wow, Chase suddenly can’t read anymore, what.

Chase groans while rolling his eyes, pulling his phone out from his pocket and sees its barely noon.

It’s… Going to be a long day, isn’t it?

—

How long have they been here? What time is it? What day is it? Where is he?

He’s read this paragraph so many times, but he can’t process a single word on this page. A deep inhale and his eyes go back to the top of the page again.

Ah, yes, uhm.

WHAT IS THIS SAYING?!

Chase inhales deeply, before giving up and just resigning to scanning the page… Again, for the, what? Tenth time? Maybe? He flips to the next page, and does the same, and then again, again, again, and agai—

“Chase, I know you’re not reading the book.” Deacon’s hushed tone comes rolling in. Chase fights back a groan and rolling his eyes.

“I’m trying, dude, I am! It’s just, I open the book, and I see all the words and how small they are and think, ‘I ain’t reading all that’ and then my mind goes blank!”

Deacon sighs, glancing at his book then to Chase, “I understand, I do. It doesn’t help that none of these books are even remotely helpful.” He writes down the page number he’s on and closes the book. “We could try the geography section.”

“You mean, the section that talks about rocks?”

“No! That’s Geology! And I’m, kind of surprised you know what that is.”

“Wow, Dorkin, that really helps my self-esteem. Thanks.”

“Chase, I know you don’t need any help with your self-esteem.”

“No, you don’t, you don’t know jack about what goes on up here!” Chase does a weird gesture with his heads to his head, and Deacon looks at him like he just grew another head.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Chase shouts, and Deacon shushes him harshly.

“Keep your voice down! And I can’t help it when you do weird stuff like that!”

“It’s called creativity, Dorkin.” Chase says with a smug tug on his mouth. But the moment the words leave his lips, the air changes.

Nox…

Where was he? How was he being treated? Had he seen the sun? Was he being forced into go into his key form and used in books?

How could Chase sit here and laugh when Buddy had been taken? Locked away in a room and used for someone else’s own gain?

“Chase…?”

“We’re never going to find them, are we…?”

The words hang in the air, a harsh but real confession. Sinking its teeth past their skin, and into their minds and heart. Twisting and turning so ugly it’s impossible to breathe for a moment.

Because no matter how hard they research, the books they read, how far they go.

That ever growing possibility of never finding Violet and Buddy becomes more possible, more of a reality.

“No,” Deacon’s tone almost makes Chase flinch. He’s never heard Deacon speak that harshly before, “No, Chase, we are going to find them. You said so, and you never go back on your promises.” Chase pulls his eyes up, meeting his cousins, “Well neither am I.”

Chase feels his eyes water, a small smile forcing its way through the pain. “Thanks, Deacon.”

Deacon smiles back, “No problem.” His face shifts back into a softer, but more focused expression. His hand to his face, mouth pressing against a knuckle, “We should look in the geography section. But the problem with that, is that it’ll mainly look at modern geography. And we need historical ones, like Violet suggested. Old maps and stuff.”

Chase closes his book before pushing it to side. Spraying his arms out across the table, his chin laying flat against the wooden surface. Something from his back pocket vibrates, and Chase pulls out his phone.

New Message

Simon

Oh, right. Chase should probably respond to that. He really… Doesn’t want to though.

With a sigh, Chase lets his phone, and in turn, his hand, go limp and fall to the table. Catching sight of that worker again with glasses. Having finished placing away books but now appears to be scanning certain ones.

Wait! A worker! Why else do people work in libraries? To help, of course!

Chase pops up from the table, “Why don’t we ask a worker for help?”

Deacon stares at his cousin like he is clinically insane, “You’re joking, right? Remember what Violet’s letter said? We can’t let anyone know why we’re here!”

Chase makes a clicking noise with his tongue, “Buzz! Wrong! She said we shouldn’t ask historians for help!”

“She also said she doesn’t know how far their influence is.”

Deacon sighs, looking back at his book, “I know this is difficult, Chase, and that asking for assistance would help us a lot. But we can’t take the risk of asking the wrong questions to the wrong person. You understand me, right, Chase?” Deacon looks up from his book, “I know you do—"

Deacon shouldn’t be surprised, he really shouldn’t. And yet, when he looks up and sees his cousin not only missing but also walking tOWARDS A WORKER WAVING, he feels some of his braincells shrivel up and die, and about ten years taken off his life.

“Hey—!”

“Chase, oh my God—”

“—I was wondering if you could help us?”

The worker glances between Chase and, what Chase assumes, is a darkened figure of his cousin chasing him. But seems to shrug it off, “Yeah sure, what’s up?”

“Do you know where—”

There’s a yelp, and Chase’s vision goes dark as something is thrown onto his back so hard, he heaves over. Barely catching himself by landing a hand on the cart, but the force causes it to roll away, and the two cousins fall side first onto the floor.

Wow. That was…

GOD DAMN IT, DORKIN.

“DUDE WHAT THE HECK?!”

“Chase, we are in a library!” Deacon scolds, then through his teeth in a strained voice, “And we need to be ca—care…”

Chase is a lot of things, and while he knows he isn’t exactly a genius, it doesn’t take one to notice his cousin short circuiting when he notices the presence of a girl.

Speaking of which, Chase glances up at the worker, whose lips are rolled in, while the ends of her mouth tugged upwards. Shoulders shaking intensely as she very obviously tries not to laugh.

Wow, great first impression, Dorkin.

A strained laugh escaped their mouth for half a second, before (attempting) to collect themselves and (attempting) to go back into customer service mode.

“Are you okay?” Their voice is strained, still stifling a laugh.

“Yes,” Chase says, pushing himself up and causing his cousin to all but roll over and fall off him. The worker again tries to stifle a laugh, but bits of it escape again. “Well, I am at least. I don’t know about this guy. Actually, I don’t know him at all, could you do me a favor and call the police and have this man arrested for attempted assault?”

“Chase—!” Deacon yells, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of red when he hears just how loud his voice is. And it turns scarlet when he glances back at the worker and Chase catches sight of their eyes locking in a split second.

“See!” Chase ignores his cousin, “He even knows my name! This man is stalking me!”

Deacon just kicks Chase in the leg, “OW, see! Physical assault! Call the police!”

At this point, the worker has turned her face away from the cousins, their shoulders shaking intensely as Chase catches snippets of barely concealed laughter.

“Do you need help?” She asks, reaching a hand to Deacon. Who, in turn, stammers out a bunch of nonsense that Chase swears he once heard from a baby on the sidewalk the other day. Somehow, the worker is charmed by this, at least, he thinks they’re charmed. God, he kind of hopes she’s charmed because it is literally the only other option for his cousin, who is still laying on the floor for some reason.

Regardless, she smiles, taking Deacon’s hand and helping this stumbling mess of a man to his feet. Who is still stammering some nonsense and—Jesus Christ, how are these two related, what??

They stay like that for a moment, hands still held as Deacon all but combusts as he tries to remember how to speak.

“Ah-Uh-you-uhm—”

“Thank you.” Chase reminds his cousin with a whisper. Deacon stiffens up, “THANK YOU!” He yells and—by God Chase wonders if his cousin is one shade away from just actually turning into an apple right now.

The worker pulls her hand away, and Chase catches sight of a nametag.

Harley

Harley pushes her lips together, still very clearly trying not to laugh. “What did you two need help with?”

Deacon tries to respond, keyword, tries, and before Chase can let any more of THAT trainwreck continues its way to the station to crash and burn, he cuts his cousin off.

“Do you know if you have any historical books with maps in them?” Chase makes a gesture with his hand meaning to represent a book, he thinks Harley understands. “Like, old-timey, very wrong maps?”

Chase hears Deacon make a sound akin to a cry.

Harley glances at Deacon for a moment before returning their attention back to Chase, “Uh, you mean like, Geography?”

Chase nods, “Yeah! Exactly that! But like, in old history books? Do you have anything like that?”

Harley seems to think for a moment, letting out a quiet hum, “I’m not sure? But my co-worker knows more about the history section, let me go grab him. Be right back,”

She waves at them and then walks off to the other side of the library where Chase saw that guy earlier. He’s still in the same area, albeit he has moved more to the left now.

Chase watches Harley walk up to him, and right as she begins talking to him, Deacon pulls Chase to the side. Somehow still human and not yet an apple.

“Chase, are you nuts?”

This time it’s Chase’s turn to look at Deacon like he’s crazy, “Dude, I’m not the one who literally just tripped and ate carpet fuzz in front of a girl.”

Despite Deacon’s face turning red, his tone stays grave. “Chase, I’m serious. Three people now know why we’re here—”

“Ana doesn’t.”

“She knows it involves history!” Deacon takes a pause to collect himself, glancing past Chase. Chase follows his gaze and sees the guy glance at the pair before nodding to Harley. “I just,” Deacon continues, pulling Chase’s attention back to him, “I want us to be careful, we don’t know who is involved.”

“I know, Deacon, it’s all you’ve been saying all day. But we’re not getting anywhere by ourselves.” Chase glances back at the two workers, who are walking towards them, just a few feet away, “We have to ask for help. And we need to do it carefully, you tripping and tackling me screams, ‘hey, we are up to something!’. Me asking a worker if they know where certain books are isn’t.”

Deacon’s eyebrows furrow, glancing once more at the workers, then back to Chase.

“You need to trust me, Deacon. Please.”

Deacon looks back at the workers, and Chase feels the worker’s presence, their footsteps knocking against the wood. Deacon closes his eyes for a moment, then meets Chase’s.

“Okay,” He says, “I trust you.”

Deacon puts on a pleasant smile, and Chase follows suit, turning around to face the two workers.

Up close, he doesn’t look anything like Buddy beyond the color of his hair. But even that is enough to remind Chase of the boy, dragged somewhere to the middle of the sea on a plot of land. His hair is fluffy and wavy, tied into a small loose ponytail, his hands in his pant pockets. There’s a couple of moles on his neck, and his eyes are a bright blue.

They look nothing like Nox’s light baby blue ones.

“You need help?” He asks so casually Chase is a little shocked at his tone.

“Uh, yeah,” Chase begins, “Do you have any books about geography, but like, for history? Like old maps, of Europe, specifically, not America?”

The boy, whose nametag says, Akira, nods, and motions with his head to the history section. “Yeah, this way.”

The cousins follow, Harley too, which Chase is a bit confused by, but he doesn’t question it. She hasn’t given him a reason to be suspicious, but Chase probably should be a bit more aware.

Wordlessly, Akira begins to pull some books out of shelves, only taking his hands out of his pockets to grab a book, and hand them over to Chase one by one. And when Chase is starting to struggle to keep up, he begins handing them to Deacon, who almost drops a book. And when Deacon begins to struggle carrying the books, he just turns to Harley and begins handing them to her.

When he hands Harley a third book she snaps, “Dude, stop handing me stuff, I’m your co-worker.”

Akira merely glances at her, “And you have hands.”

“And you don’t?!”

He ignores her as he places another book in their hands. Harley proceeds to cuss out Akira, as he hands her two more books. Then, in one smooth motion, picks up three books and carries those. Harley then cusses out Akira for choosing now to carry books.

Chase shuffles awkwardly on his feet, clearing his throat. Akira glances back at the two, and rolls his head, a hand on his neck. “That should be all. Well, that’s all the useful ones.”

Chase grins, “Thanks, bud!” He gestures with his head, “Our table’s over here.”

They walk back to the table in silence, floorboards creaking against their feet. With a heave, Deacon and Chase set the books down. Harley and Akira following in suit, the table shifting at the sudden weight.

“Alright,” Akira says. “That should be it. Y’all need anything else?”

Chase shakes his head, “No, I think this is it. Thanks so much, man.”

Akira shrugs, “No problem. If you need anything else later about the history section, let me know. This one doesn’t know anything about it, so look for me.”

Harley’s mouth falls open, “Screw you too?!”

Akira ignores her, “Good luck on your search.” He waves and begins to walk away.

Chase feels something in him sink. Oh my God, was Deacon, right? Maybe Chase really was being foolish by being so blunt.

He can’t even bring himself to look at his cousin, instead dragging his gaze over to the worker. Hoping, no, praying his face doesn’t give them away.

“H-Huh?” Chase asks, voice almost getting caught in his throat as he smiles nervously.

Akira merely turns back over his shoulder, smiling. But there’s no malice behind it, rather, something more teasing. There’s nothing bad behind his eyes, they instead gleam with a look of understanding.

It reminds Chase of Buddy.

“You look like you’re looking for something that means a lot to you. Good luck, I hope you find it.”

He turns away and continues walking back to his station. Chase tilts his head as Harley looks like they’re trying to set their co-worker on fire with their eyes.

“That guy is so weird,” She mumbles, “I don’t understand him.” She turns back to the cousins, waving a hand, “Just ignore him, he’s always saying stuff like that.”

“I-Is he?” Holy carp Deacon just mustered a sentence to a girl, it’s a miracle.

Harley looks at him, and Chase is pretty sure she starts smiling, “Yeah, he’s just like that. Heard he had a rough childhood, poor dude.” They make a motion with their hand, “And don’t pay too much attention to my, uh, colorful, language. We get along, well, as well as you can get with a co-worker. He’s just an ass to everyone but Ana.”

“Why Ana?” Chase asks.

“Girlfriend.”

“Ohhhh,” Chase says, ignoring Deacon’s side eye.

“Yeah, I know someone who’s like that.”

“Hey!” Chase yells right as Harley and Deacon shush him, “Ray warmed up to you!”

Ray was the codename they had given Buddy if, for whatever reason, they had to speak about him in front of someone else. And Chase was, beyond relieved, that he didn’t stumble on his words for the name.

“Yeah, it only took a life-or-death situation.”

Harley laughs, reminding the two cousins of their presence, but thankfully, they seem to think Deacon is joking.

Haha, yeah.

Totally joking, yeah. It totally didn’t traumatize Chase.

Harley points back to where she was earlier, “I’m gonna head back to my station. If you need me, you know where to find me.”

She smiles at them and seems to smile brighter when she looks at Deacon, then walks off.

“… What just happened?” Deacon musters out like as though he’s just been punched in the gut.

A surge of happiness runs through Chase, and he can’t help the giant smile that grows on his face. Grabbing Deacon by the arms and shaking him, Deacon is too busy watching Harley walk away for him to even react to it.

“Dude! I think she likes you! Dude! Oh my God!”

Chapter Text

Chase wanted to cry tears of joy when he opened the first book and saw A MAP!

Not ONLY a map, but also detailed writings and paragraphs and different islands, their coordinates, and their ecosystems!

Truly, he wanted to fall to his knees and sob.

But there’s no time for that, because Buddy is waiting for him. Waiting to reunite, to be wished human again, to be together again.

So, with newfound determination, Chase grabs one of the books Akira had helped them find, opens to the first page, and—

—

Okay so Chase forgot he doesn’t like reading—

But he did notice that every time something about an island was mentioned, his attention shifted. He took in every word, every tiny detail of the currents surrounding whatever island he was reading about, the flora the fish. He even pulled out the journal Deacon had put it in his bag that Chase was sure he wasn’t going to use.

He wrote down the name of every island, its coordinates, its ecosystem, everything he could find out about it. Crossing out the names of the ones that didn’t match Violet’s list, at least, the details he could remember.

Somehow, by some miracle, he had gone through three books. Finally, finally, they were making progress.

Wait for me Nox, I’m getting closer. I’m almost there.

His phone vibrated from his back pocket, and he was going to ignore it again until he felt it ring again only a second later. Chase groaned, his shoulders going slump as he tried not to roll his eyes.

Chase reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

Simon

“Who is it?” Deacon asks.

“Simon.”

“Simon?” Chase responds with a ‘yeah’, “What do you think he wants?” Deacon asks.

“I don’t know. Well, kind of. I haven’t really spoken to him.”

The phone stoped ringing, and Chase can’t tell what emotion he’s feeling from ignoring it. Guilt? Sadness? Annoyance? He can’t tell.

But then the phone starts to ring again, Simon’s name there once more, and this time Chase knows he’s feeling a hint of annoyance.

“You should answer it,” Deacon says, “It might be important.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You should though.”

Chase hums, Deacon was right, he really should answer it. But he doesn’t want to though, and he’s not, entirely sure why.

Okay, well, that’s a bit of a lie. He knows why, Simon may be a little lazy and always lets him down, but they’re friends for a reason. And truthfully, Chase isn’t ready to be asked about what’s been happening in his life to be avoiding him and the rest of their friends for three weeks.

Chase looked up at Deacon, who was looking at him with an encouraging expression. And as Chase answered the phone, he hoped it was enough to help him feel ready for the conversation.

(He knows it isn’t though.)

“Wait, Chase, not here this is a library—!”

Click!

Oh, oops!

Chase gave an apologetic look to his cousin, “Hello?”

Chase had been expecting a voice to respond back, that deep almost nasally sounding voice he knew Simon by so well. But he was instead greeted by static, like when you’re switching between different radio stations and come across those empty ones. There’s a voice Chase can barely make out, but in between those stabbing sounds of fuzz is a ringing noise.

“Hold on, give me a minute. If you can hear me.” Chase slid out of the chair, quickly walking through the aisles filled with books. He caught sight of Harley and Akira, still in the same area of the library.

He looked at his right and saw a blonde girl pushing a cart filled with old-looking books. Chase’s light brown eyes locking with her deep grey ones.

Chase’s ears ring, his head goes fuzzy like the sounds coming from his phone.

Silver looks at him from a dresser, but it doesn’t belong to him. In her reflection stands of girl with honey-blonde hair.

Something jabs into his arm, pulling Chase out of his head and focusing onto his now sore arm. He paused for only a moment to look up, realizing he ran into a bookshelf. His nose burned, and he instinctively touched it, pulling his hand back and seeing a drop of red on his fingertips.

Huh?

Chase rubs his nose with his hand, and sees a streak of red.

A nosebleed? My nose didn’t even hit the bookshelf though.

Now isn’t the time to unpack whatever that is all about is, so he wiped the blood on a discrete place on his shorts and kept moving. There’s a thump behind him, Chase whips his head around, phone still pressed to his ear as he sees Ana approach the blonde girl. A worried expression written over her face.

“Scarlet?! Are you okay?”

Now out of sight of any employees, Chase turned back forward and ran to the front door. Pushing through the tall wooden double doors and hoping no one paid too much attention to the loud creaking noise they made.

“Can you hear me?” Chase asks, realizing his chest suddenly felt lighter, like he could breathe again.

That building is suffocating, and he had no idea why.

“Now I can. Jeez dude, I know service in Sugar Springs can suck, but I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“Oh, it might also be because I’m not… In Sugar Springs right now.”

“What?!”

“Yeah… Sorry, man. I don’t know if you wanted to hang out or anything but… Yeah, sorry.”

Chase hears Simon hum on the other end of the line, “It’s fine. At least you answered this time.”

“Yeah, sorry about that…”

For a moment, neither of them says anything, which Chase hates. So, the first thought that came to mind spilled from his lips.

“How are you doi—”

“Is everything okay, man?”

“Huh?”

Chase hears some shuffling on the other end of the line, “You’ve been, distant. Everyone’s been worried, you know? You haven’t really been active online, you don’t answer anyone’s calls or texts that much, and you’ve missed practice for three weeks now.”

“Nothing happened,” Chase says, glancing around the parking lot for any unwanted viewers, “I just, felt like being lazy.”

Simon scoffed, but in that lighthearted playful way Chase knows him by, “Yeah right. Chase Hollow? The Chase Hollow being lazy? I wouldn’t believe that even if I was held at gunpoint.”

Chase cringes, “That’s dark, dude.”

“I’m just making a point. But seriously, what happened? Did you and your boyfriend get in a fight or something?”

“I don’t have a—”

“You don’t have a boyfriend, yeah-yeah. I’ve known you for years, Chase. And I know when you like someone, and when it turns serious.”

The conversation once again fell silent as guilt made its way through Chase’s throat. He didn’t mean to make his friends worry; they shouldn’t be that worried. If he knew his disconnection would have worried them that much, he would have made more of an effort to reach out, if just to reassure them.

“I’m not mad, dude. I’m just worried. This isn’t like you.” Chase heared Simon sigh, taking a moment to collect his thoughts, “I know I’m not good at things like this. But you know you can talk to me, right? It doesn’t matter what it is, I’ll listen. I probably won’t give good advice or comfort, but I will listen.”

But I can’t tell you. Because it’ll put you and everyone else in danger.

“Okay.” Is all Chase told him in the end, because what else is there to say?

What else can he say?

“Call me when you’re back in town, okay? We can get some ice cream or something.”

“Okay.”

There’s a moment before Simon says, “Okay. See you soon, bye.”

It’s almost like he wants to say more.

“Bye.”

Click!

For a moment, Chase doesn’t move, his feet planted to the ground and phone still pressed against his ear. Wind blowing against him causing his hair to flow in different directions as a chill made its way under his shirts, making his whole-body shiver.

Simon’s been worried about me, Chase thinks.

A sigh escaped; frustration rooted deep beyond the surface. His arm holding the phone goes limp and falls to his side.

I’ve been such a jerk.

Chase leaned his head against the cool surface of the bricks. Sliding down, ignoring how his hair strands got caught and tangled in little parts of the bricks.

When he reached the ground, he lets out a big puff of breath. Pulling his knees to his chest and burying his head into his knees.

He’s so… Tired.

Chase hadn’t slept well that night, despite feeling exhausted. No matter how much he tried to focus on other things, change his train of thought, or distract himself. Everything tied back to Buddy.

Every

Single

Thing 

They could be in a book right now or had already met and made their wishes. They would have gone on a date by now, Nox would have met Chase’s mom already, his mom would be better, and Buddy would be human. And, and—

Chase breathed in deeply as he felt his thoughts consume him. He can’t fall back into the abyss, can’t continue sinking in an endless sea. Buddy needs him, Chase needs to, must be okay.

He can’t afford to be anything else.

—

“Everything okay?” Deacon asked once Chase decided to re-enter the library again. Chase pulled out a chair and took back his seat across from his cousin.

“Yeah, he was just worried about me going off grid for three weeks.”

“That makes sense. Some of them stopped by during that time.”

Chase groaned, laying his head on the table, “I’m such a jerk.” He lamented.

“You’re not a jerk, Chase.” Deacon has that serious tone again, and it almost makes Chase shiver, “You were hurt. You did the best you could. Yes, you could have communicated better to your friends, but you still did your best.”

He tried to take those words to heart, tried to believe in them like how Deacon believed in him.

But he couldn’t.

“I’m going to use the restroom,” Deacon scooted out of his chair and stood, “I’ll be back.”

His cousin walked off, and Chase was left alone with his thoughts. He knew he shouldn’t be kicking himself like this for making Simon and his friends worry. But Deacon was right, he should have communicated to them. He didn’t have to tell them the full truth, but simply that he didn’t feel like his normal self.

Chase looked at his book, and something prickled in his eyes.

He was so tired, so exhausted. He wanted to find Buddy and Violet, more than anything. He would give up anything if it meant those two being safe. He knew this was all to find them, to reunite them. But what if they didn’t find anything? What if this turned into a wild goose chase?

What if he never saw Buddy again.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

Don’t think like that.

He can’t think like that.

They’ll see each other again. They will. Chase will save him and bring him home. And they’ll be together again, and Ex-Libris will leave them alone.

They will see each other again.

They have to.

Please, God, let them.

He doesn’t think he can live knowing he failed them.

Knowing he failed Buddy.

Oh God….

Please…

“Uhm, excus—”

“AH—!”

Chase’s body flinched so hard his journal flew into the air and fliped over, the book flipping to a random page—oh my GOD he just lost his place—and his arms aching at the sudden force of movement.

“Ah! Sorry!” Ana said, reaching over to his journal and handing it to him. Chase quickly took it from her hands and closed it. She fidgeted for a moment, hands waving in the air, unsure of what to do with them. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just… Uh, wanted to let you know that the library will be closing in about four hours.”

“Oh! Uh, isn’t it a little early for you to tell me that?”

Ana laughed nervously, as though she didn’t think this conversation through, “Ah… Uhm, a little yes. But you’ve both been here for a while, so I thought y’all should know just in case.”

“Oh, okay. That makes sense,” Chase thinks for a moment, then mumbles, “I guess? Actually no, that makes no sense, what—”

“Pardon?”

“Ah, nothing!” Chase held his hands up nervously; he really didn’t want Ana to have heard that last comment. She was nice, she seemed like a good person, and Chase didn’t want her to think he was being rude.

“It’s just,” Excuse, Chase. Quick! Think of some random excuse! “We couldn’t have been here that long.” Chase pulled out his phone, they got here at around noon, it’s probably only been two hours—

4:45 PM

…

IT’S BEEN FIVE HOURS?!

HOW HAS IT BEEN FIVE HOURS? HAVE THEY REALLY BEEN READING FOR FIVE HOURS?!

Chase suddenly felt a lot lamer than he did two seconds ago.

“How have we been here for five hours?!”

Ana chuckled, reminding Chase of her presence, “Researching can do that to you, especially if you’re passionate about the topic. Speaking of which, what are you two researching?” She held her hands behind her back, leaning over slightly with a friendly smile.

Chase tried to read her face, trying to see if she was trying to interrogate information out of him. But her eyes were wide, filled with this genuine warmth and kindness, a hint of curiosity. There was this crinkle in her eyes that Chase had seen before. In Nox, during the moments Chase would catch his partner looking at him. With such a look of softness and love that would make Chase melt on the spot, before Buddy would deny any implication that he was admiring the blond boy.

Perhaps it was foolish, something to turn into a mistake and a regret in the future.

But at that moment, he decided to trust Ana.

“Islands.” He finally said, “It’s for our Final in Geography. We had to pick a type of land and do extensive research on it. At the end of the month, we’re going to present it to the whole class.”

He said he would trust Ana, but he never said he would tell her the truth.

They only just met after all.

Ana’s eyes gleamed with genuine interest, “Oh wow, it sounds interesting. Have you found any useful information yet?”

Chase tried his best to smile happily, “Yup! A bunch, but we still have a bunch more information to look for to make an A.”

He hated this, he hated lying to Harley, Akira, and Ana. He hated every bit of it, but Deacon was right. They all seemed nice, but that didn’t mean he could trust them, being nice and being good are two different things after all. And even if they are people who can be trusted, them knowing anything would put them in danger. Chase doesn’t think he could forgive himself if anything happened to these three because of his carelessness.

Ana looked like she sympathized with him, “I get that,” She said, “Sometimes my professors give me such intricate finals. I once had a professor who wanted us to cite authors verbally during our speech. If we didn’t, we lost points.”

Chase nods like he understands, because it wasn’t that he didn’t understand. But rather, he didn’t truly understand what it was like to have such difficult professors. To commute for over an hour just to sit in a classroom for forty-five minutes, or to schedule your time perfectly every other day to make sure you catch a bus on time.

He knew that for students, it was probably an inconvenience, one that they couldn’t stand doing anymore. And there was nothing wrong with complaining about it, they had every right to do so. But sometimes, Chase felt like he would give anything to be able to experience those kinds of inconveniences.

But instead, he painted a look of sympathy on his face, as though they had shared a connection over a mutual experience. “Yeah, I’ve had teachers like that, it’s really annoying.”

Ana hummed, nodding her head, “Well, I’m going to leave you to it.” She stood up straight, hands still behind her back, “Good luck on y’all’s project!” She smiled at him, and Chase returned it before she walked back to the front desk.

Chase sighed, turning back to the books before checking the time on his phone, causing him to once again remember that they’ve been here for fIVE HOURS. Chase can practically feel his skin breaking out in hives.

But putting Chase’s ever decreasing reputation and chances of being discovered as the cool and charming idol aside, he glanced over at Deacon’s journal. Now shut closed to avoid any unwanted eyes trying to snoop into their business.

Chase pushed his lips together, while they had knocked out a few islands, there was still so much more left to do. Deacon still had at least another seven books left, and Chase had at least two other stacks as well. And that was with Deacon taking the heavier load, both in book length and stacks.

Is this even enough? What if they’re not able to get through all these books by the time the library closes? They can’t come back here again tomorrow; it’ll only draw more attention to them.

They need more, more than just geography books, more than just people writing about islands, they need—

‘Try your best to find primary sources.’

Chase’s eyes widen, primary sources, journals, diaries.

Its… A long shot, but it’s the only other thing Chase can think of.

He reads ahead for a moment, writing down any information he finds useful. When Deacon returns, Chase slips him a note saying he’s going to look for some primary sources. Deacon looked like he wanted to ask questions, but he glanced around the area and decided against it, resorting to a simple nod.

Wandering through the shelves, Chase considered asking one person from the trio for help again. Akira knew a lot about the history section, so he would probably know where the primary sources were. Oh, but it might be suspicious. He could ask Ana, or Harley, they seemed nice, but…

Chase sighed; this is so much more difficult than it should be.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of a sign and bold words. Turning to the left is a broad set of wooden double doors. The wood is dark, parts of it chipping away, which is odd. The rest of the library is well maintained, yes, some bits of it show its age, but there’s no pieces of wood or paint chipping away like this door.

He walks over to it, glancing at the sign above the doors.

Shade Archives

Okay, now, Chase isn’t a genius. But “archives” seems like the type of word you use to describe old-timey books like, like, history, and journals, and history, wait, he already listed that—

THE POINT IS, “archives” is the type of word that gives “hey! I’m all about old stuff written ages ago!”. Which is perfect!

He reached the door, but before he can even touch the handle, someone steps in front of him. Chase barely pulled his hand away before it can touch the stranger.

He looked up and was met with those same grey eyes from earlier, wide and friendly looking.

Chase’s head began to ring—

Violet locks eyes with someone, allowing them to cup her gently and lift her up—

Chase pulled his eyes away, hand flying to his head. He had half the mind to tell off the person who just blocked him. But that ringing feels like stabs to his brain, and he desperately tries to will it away.

“Are you okay?” Asked a soft and stable voice, he didn’t a voice could sound stable until right now.

“Yeah, I’m good.” He said with a bit of attitude. “Well, I was before you got in my way suddenly!”

He finally locked eyes with the person—a girl, the same one from earlier. Long blonde hair that rested over her shoulders, a bright red headband holding some strands back.

Chase tried not to cringe at how much it sticks out from her grey and black color scheme.

She tilted her head, eyebrows furrowing and a soft, apologetic smile on her lips. It reminded Chase of Ana, but… wrong? Almost like a form of imitation, maybe she was trying to imitate Ana. Ana did have this sort of charm and kindness to her that almost seemed to come naturally.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” She said, her tone sounded apologetic as well, “That area is off limits to patrons. Only employees can enter.”

Seriously? She had to be joking; Chase was really hoping she was joking. No way he was so close to—okay no way he was maybe close to something helpful. He didn’t actually know what that room held, but something told him it held clues, hints, anything.

Call it a gut feeling or whatever, but Chase always listened to his gut feelings.

And right now, his gut feeling was telling him not to push this topic. This girl clearly worked here as well, and he was already on good terms with three of the four employees. It was best not to push his luck.

“Oh, sorry! My bad!” He said, playing a face of foolishness as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I didn’t know! Hehe…”

The girl’s head tilts down a bit, something in her eyes shifted. Something cold ran through Chase’s veins, and he did his best not to visibly shiver.

“Is that so? Well, we all make mistakes sometimes. I haven’t seen you around here before, are you a first-time patron?”

Deacon came to mind, and with it, something in Chase’s head goes off. He feels his body tense up, but he tried his best not to show it. He stretches his smile out more and laughs nervously.

“Yeah! I’m here with my friend for an assignment.” He began to take a step back, “I should actually get back to him. Sorry again, nice meeting you.”

Chase turns on his heel, not even bothering to look at the girl’s nametag.

What was that? The headache? That image of Violet? He’d never even seen Violet in key form! He’d seen her in a book, but she was the size of a regular human in those. And he’s certainly never picked her up.

What is happening?

His luck seemed to be awful today, the worst, actually. While lost in his thoughts, Chase feels his body crash into someone else’s. He’s halfway through an apology when he sees that familiar brown hair and freckles and realizes it’s Harley.

“Oh, it’s you.” They said, sounding and looking disappointed.

What??

“Excuse you?”

Harley seemed to realize what they had just said out loud, for their eyes go wide and a slightly apologetic look appeared on their face.

Keyword, slightly.

Man, and here Chase thought Harley and he were chill.

“OH! Uh, sorry, I was, expecting someone else.” Harley laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind their ear.

Chase tried not to smile and failed miserably. “Deacons at our table.”

“Huh?”

He crossed his arms and gestured his head toward the direction he was heading to, “Deacon. My coooo-friend. Co-friend. Although now I guess it’s just friend.”

Whew, saved it.

Harley looked at Chase like he just spoke another language, and to be fair, he kind of just did. Its just that it is a language Chase himself doesn’t know, nor did it exist until five seconds ago.

“Anyyyyway,” Harley said awkwardly, “I’m not looking for your co-friend.”

Yeah, and I’m not gay, Chase thought.

“Mh-hm,” Chase hummed, jutting out his hips to make his point.

“Shut up, I’m telling the truth.”

“Woah, telling a customer to shut up?” Chase placed a hand on his chest, his mouth open dramatically as though gasping, “I can’t believe this. And here I thought we were friends.”

“We just met, dude.”

“Okay, well friendly strangers.”

“Do you mean acquaintances?”

“Yes, that. Aqua…”

“Acquaaa—”

“Shut up, I’m not in kindergarten.”

Harley pretended to look offended, “Now look who’s telling who to shut up.”

Chase pushed out his lower lip, trying his best to look sassy, “You know, this isn’t how you impress a future cousin -in-law.”

“You’re the last person I’d want to impress to be honest.”

OH, SHE DID NOT—

“Anyway, do you need help with anything?”

They did NOT just change the topic!

“No,” Chase said, still trying to sound sassy, “What makes you say that?”

Harley looked him up and down, and in a moment of what seemed to be vulnerability, softened their expression. “Do you want the customer service answer or the honest one.”

The, what?

Chase wondered if maybe Harley really is a member of Ex-Libris or maybe playing some sort of game. Because Harley was right, they just met, if Chase did the math correctly, they had only just met four hours ago.

But that sudden shift in their face was so sudden, it reminded him a bit of Silver, of Buddy, of his mom. There was something so genuine in it, something caring and kind, though Harley seemed to be the type to deny that.

You really are too trusting, Chasey.

“The honest one.” He said after a moment of thinking.

Harley looked like they have a pained expression now, “You look like you’re one minor inconvenience away from having a breakdown.”

Oh.

Does he?

Chase wanted to laugh, he almost does. After all that, smiling, making jokes, teasing, after all of that, that grief was still there. Crawling its way through his heart and reaching the surface.

“Oh! Uh, isn’t it a little early for you to tell me that?”

Ana laughed nervously, as though she didn’t think this conversation through, “Ah… Uhm, a little yes.”

Oh, so that must have been why Ana went up to him. It wasn’t to tell him that the library would be closing in four hours. Ha… She checked up on him, she must have been worried about him.

“Oh, ha, yeah its… Been a rough few weeks.”

Harley shifted their feet, unsure of what to say, “Oh, man. I’m sorry about that.”

It’s okay, Chase almost said instinctively, but he knows that’s not true. It’s nowhere near the truth, because nothing about this situation is okay. His boyfriend has been kidnapped, his friend’s sister taken along with him, his mom is getting worse, his stomach hurts, he feels like throwing up—

Nothing about this is okay. Chase is not okay. He’s so tired, his body feels sore, his eyes ache, and he wants to lay down and sleep and pray that when he wakes up it will be to Buddy at his side.

But he can’t rest, not yet.

“Hey, uh, weird question.” Chase began, “Uhm, do you guys have any primary sources?”

Harley hummed, “Mmm, depends what kind of primary sources?”

Oh, carp, Chase did not think this far. Maybe Deacon really should have been the one to do this.

… No wait, this is the better option. Because knowing Deacon, and looking back at that trainwreck of an afternoon, this interaction would have ended with multiple bookshelves toppled over one another.

“I’m going to be so honest, dude, I have no idea.”

That gets a laugh out of Harley, “Well, I know we have a portion of primary sources in the Shade Archives.”

Chase groaned, “Ugh, I tried to go in there, but someone stopped me. Said I needed a worker to let me in.” Chase looked back at Harley who is, right, a worker! Perfect!

“Hey, do you think—”

“No, sorry, dude. The only people who have access to that are the manager and the assistant manager.”

Chase tried not scream, because oH MY GOD, “And they are…?”

Harley leaned against the bookshelf, “Ana and Scarlet.”

“And Scarlet is…?”

“The manager, she’s blonde, grey eyes, a little taller than you, a little shorter than your cousin.”

Oh, well that’s just great, wonderful, even. Exactly what Chase needed right now, exactly what will help him the most in this situation right now.

“Ugh, that’s the one who didn’t let me in. Oh, well, I’ll ask Ana then.”

Harley sucked in a breath through their teeth, “Sorry dude, Scarlet has the keys right now.”

“GOD FU—” Chase took in a deep breath, because he is in a LIBRARY, and cannot YELL, let alone CUSS. “Thank you, so much, Harley,” he tried to sound genuine, but he really does mean it, “You have been a lot of help, I mean it. But I,” He started to backtrack, almost tripping over his own feet, “I need to find Deacon right now.”

The word baffled doesn’t even come close to the face Harley is making right now, “You okay, man? I could try—”

“No! It’s okay! I just, Deacon, I need to talk to him.”

He knows he’s acting suspicious right now, there’s no denying it. But Chase needs to speak to Deacon now. He doesn’t know how, but he just knows that room has something they need.

As cliché as it sounded, Chase’s gut was telling him that room held something important. At least, Chase thought it was his gut telling him that.

Chapter Text

“I’m telling you, Deacon, something’s in that room! I don’t know how to explain it, I can just, feel it.”

Deacon sighed exhaustedly, closing his book, “Okay, Chase, say there is something important in that room. How do we even get in?”

“Uhm,” Shoot, he hadn’t thought that far, “I’m… Not sure.”

Deacon groaned, and Chase practically threw himself over the table, making sure to keep his voice low.

“Please, Deacon! We need to get in there! It has something, I just know it!”

Deacon looked at his cousin, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes trying to come up with an excuse. He sighed, pulling his hand to his face, a face Chase knew he did when he was weighing his options. And Chase hoped those options were leaning into his favor.

“Why don’t we just break in?”

… What?

It’s Chase’s turn to look at Deacon like he’s clinically insane, because there is no way he JUST said that no way that the Deacon Everett Hollow just suggested to break into a building.

Deacon scrunched his nose, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“I can’t help it, who are you and what did you do with my cousin?”

“Chase—”

“Do you have a fever or something? What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing, Chase. It’s just an idea to get into the room. We can’t exactly break through the door when there are other people here.”

There is no way these words are leaving Deacon’s mouth, “Oh my God, you’ve gone insane.” Chase said.

Deacon took in a deep breath filled with frustration, “No, Chase, I haven’t. I am being serious. There isn’t much we can do while the place is open, and workers and patrons are everywhere.”

“I’m not saying I disagree, Dorkin. It’s just,” Chase shrugged, “It’s something I would suggest, but I wouldn’t expect you to suggest something like that.”

“Just because I wouldn’t suggest it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t think of it.”

“Then why suggest it now?”

Deacon set his book down, his face turned serious but also emotional, “Because we’re out of options, Chase. And I’m ready to do what we have to do in order to get Buddy and Violet back.”

He didn’t say it, because they both know he didn’t need to say it.

Chase is also ready to do what he has to do get Buddy and Violet back.

They both know he is.

“Let’s try to finish these books,” Deacon picked his book back up, “We only have a few hours until then. And while we have an idea of where the island is, we still don’t have an exact location.”

Chase nodded, “Okay, let’s try to finish this then.”

—

By some miracle, they finished all the books, with roughly an hour and a half left to spare. They had considered remaining there until the library closed to review their notes and see which islands they had narrowed down to. But ultimately, the cousins decided to wait until they got to their hotel to do all that.

Deacon had paid for a place for them to sleep that night, suspecting that it would be late by the time they finished their research.

They had done everything they could for now, now it was just a matter of hoping that what they found would at least point them in the right direction.

Deacon had suggested placing the books back themselves, at least, to the best of their abilities. Running into Akira, who was carrying some candles and matches (weird but okay) while the cousins picked up their books, who told them they could place the books at the carts in front of the aisles. He even told them that the books had a certain number on them which signaled which aisle they go to.

“We should keep an eye out,” Deacon whispered while they split the books between them depending on their assigned numbers, “For cameras and stuff. See what type of locks they use, if they’re digital, and especially the key to the archives room.”

Chase nods, “Alright.”

And with that, they separate, Chase heading to the right and Deacon to the left.

It occurred to him, as he wandered down different aisles, that while Akira told them that certain books were assigned to certain carts, he did not, in fact, tell them where the cart was. Which, yes, while annoying and inconvenient, also provided Chase the opportunity to scope out the library.

He walked into an aisle, glancing up at the ceiling, and the corners where the walls met, disguising it as looking up at the bookshelves.

No camera in sight.

Alright, so that meant this specific area is a blind spot. Chase shuffled the books carefully to his left arm, making sure not to drop any, and pulled his phone out. Opening the camera app and hitting record, he then scanned every bit of the aisle. Even going to the ends of the aisle, but making sure to stay out of sight, just to record what area this aisle was in.

He turned his phone off, placed it back in his pocket, and continued his way as though nothing had happened.

He didn’t go into the next aisle though, instead he crossed the room into the aisle in front of him. Making sure to avoid two couches and a coffee table centered in the middle of the area. Hidden from view, he scoped out the walls and ceilings again.

Nothing.

Huh, okay, that was… Strange. It was one thing to have one blind spot, it was another thing to have two blind spots in the same area.

Chase walked out of the aisle, he stood next to one of the couches and looked up at the ceilings and walls.

There was not a single camera in sight.

Chase knew all sorts of cameras existed now a days, showerheads (which was BEYOND creepy), plugs, clocks, chargers, he even once saw an ad for a secret camera disguised as a pen and car keys. But as he walked through the hallways again, taking in every tiny detail of the shelves, books, even risking his cover and going all the way toward the wall for plugs, the tables for pens, anything. He realized something.

There were no cameras. Not the white bulky ones, or even those older ones that he saw in banks sometimes, and definitely no secret cameras. There weren’t even any outlets for plugs, which made Chase somewhat grateful that he had barely even touched his phone today.

But that… Wasn’t normal. What type of library doesn’t have an outlet? What type of building that held, well, anything of importance, didn’t have a camera? What if some weirdo tried to break in? Because no one in their right mind would try to break into a library unless they were a weirdo.

… Okay, Chase takes that comment back. BUT STILL!

He could ask Ana about it, or Harley? Wait, no, that’s a dumb idea, they work here, idiot. If he worked at, well anywhere (cause Chase wouldn’t be caught dead working in a library) and someone asked him about the cameras in the building, and they weren’t there to fix it? Chase would immediately assume they were planning to break in.

Now that he had thought about it, had Chase even seen a computer in this building? Even the old library down at Sugar Springs had one. It was old and clunky, and its screen was one of those thick ones that Chase vaguely remembered using when he was in kindergarten.

He ran through the library again, well, walked above average speed specifically. This time avoiding the aisles and instead walking along the walls.

Something began to flood Chase’s chest; he felt his heart dropped as he realized there were no computers here as well. There weren’t even any lights, he realized, the library was now a bit darker, the only source of light coming from candles attached to the walls.

Maybe that was why Akira was holding candles? Was he in charge of lighting them?

What… The heck is happening?

Chase looked around the area, he can’t go crazy, he isn’t going crazy, but something about this was so strange. He shouldn’t be reacting this way, he was aware reacting this strongly about something so small was dramatic, but…

He caught of glimpse of chocolate brown hair on the other end of the room, walking back to the front desk.

Computers…

Chase began walking toward the front desk, as he approached closer, he saw Ana reading something. It wasn’t a book, it had those black plastic circles on its spine, but the material was regular paper. As he approached, he noticed another thing…

There wasn’t even a computer at the front desk.

“Hey, Ana, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” He tried to sound as casual as he could. Tried to look like he was not absolutely freaking out over anything.

Ana looked up from her log and smiled, shaking her head, “No, is there anything you need?” She saw him holding that stack of books, and her eyes went wide, “Oh! Sorry! Do you need me to get those?”

She held out her arms, a friendly and harmless gesture. But Chase couldn’t help but to pull back slightly.

If Ana noticed, she didn’t say anything about it.

“Ah! No, haha, I got this under control.” He laughed lightly (more like very obviously nervously) for good measure. “Uhm, I do need something though, kind of? I have a question.”

She closed the log, and slid it away from her, “Ask away!”

“Uhm… How come this library doesn’t have any computers?”

Ana looked surprised by his question, “Oh!” She said, her head tilting a little.

Chase didn’t think it was anything suspicious, but he felt his chest tighten. And the words tumbled out before he could process them, “I was just wondering how people check out books if there’s no computers. Sorry if that’s a weird question, haha.”

Holy carp he did NOT just come up with that save.

Ana only smiled, as though this question was nothing strange, and waved her hand, “Oh! No worries, it’s not. I actually get asked that frequently by new patrons.”

She walked over to the side of the front desk, pulling out a similar looking log like the one she had just been reading. She returned to Chase and held it up, “We use things like this!” She places the book down and opened it to a random page. Revealing a long and complicated-looking list of names and numbers. “This is a record of everyone who has a library card here.” She points at their names, and then the number written right next to them, “That’s their name, and that’s their library card number.”

She held out her hand and motioned to the book on the top of Chase’s stack, “May I?”

Chase nodded and Ana picked up the book and opened it. Pulling out a yellow card from a pocket attached to the inside of the book cover. “We stamp this with the due date, and write the number assigned to the patron checking it out.” She placed the card back in its pocket and closed the book, “We then fill out another log to let us know that the book has been checked out.”

“Huh…” Is all Chase can muster out. He had no idea how he was able to listen to all of that and not zone out.

Ana chuckled as she placed the book back on the stack, “Sorry, it’s a little complicated. That’s how they used to check out books before computers.”

Chase felt his eyebrows push together, “How come you guys still do it like that? Why don’t you just buy and use computers?”

Ana’s expression changed to a slightly surprised one, as though no one had ever asked that. For a moment, Chase wondered if he offended her, maybe the library just didn’t have enough money to afford all the fancy new technology.

“Ah, sorry, I just—”

“No, it’s okay, you’re actually the first person to ask that.”

Huh?

That made no sense. Surely something like that was common logic.

“I actually asked Mrs. Borage, the woman who owns the library, about that when I first started working here. She said she just prefers the older way of things. Well, that’s what she’s told me when I asked, at least.”

Chase scrunched his nose, and without a single thought, said, “That’s weird.”

Oh my God, I did NOT just say that out loud.

Ana laughed lightly, waving her hand, “I wouldn’t say weird. I think she just… Likes more old-fashioned traditions.”

“She is weird, though.” Chase turned around and saw Harley, who was pushing an empty cart, they looked disappointed to see Chase, which he took personally, “Scarlet, too.”

Ana scolded her co-worker, “You shouldn’t say something like that about other people, Harley. It’s rude!”

“It’s true though!” Harley shouted, and Ana shushed her, making Harley lower her voice, “It’s one thing to not like technology, but to install a phone jammer?”

A

WHAT—?!

Oh my God, that explains why he couldn’t hear Simon earlier, why he had to go outside to hear the phone call.

But… Why would she install a phone jammer?! Who in their right mind installs a phone jammer unless they’re up to no good!?

“I… Admit that is strange. But that doesn’t mean she’s weird.”

“Correct, it makes her nuts! I could be talking to my friends about Beauty and the Chasers, but instead I’m stuck here having to do my actual job!”

Chase heard something squeaking, he turned to his left and saw Akira coming in with another empty cart, “Oh no, poor you.” He walked behind the front desk and turned to Ana, picking up some books that were in a weird-looking box, “I finished with the education section. I’m going to move on to the art section now.”

“Like you don’t slack off.” Harley crossed their arms.

“I don’t.”

Harley ignored Akira and turned back to Chase and Ana, “Scarlet too! Something about her vibes is off!”

Ana looked nervous, “Scarlet is… Nice.” She said, but Chase could tell a part of her agreed with Harley.

Akira scoffed, “Yeah, but being nice and being good aren’t the same thing.”

“Akira!”

“It’s true.” He stopped placing books in the cart and crossed his arms, “Just because you’re nice to someone doesn’t make you a good person. Just like how being rude to someone doesn’t necessarily make you a bad person.”

Ana glanced at Chase, clearly uncomfortable with the topic now, “It is not appropriate to talk about other workers, especially in front of patrons.”

“You think it too, though…” Akira mumbled, resuming his work before going behind the cart to push it, “I got everything I need; I’m heading over to the art section if you need me.”

Ana made a face as Akira walks away. But she turned her attention back to Harley, “I’m not saying I disagree with you, I just… Don’t think it’s appropriate to talk about your co-workers like that. She might be struggling with something in her personal life.”

“How about we talk about it after work then?”

“How about we don’t?” Ana looked stressed suddenly, “Unless you’re willing to wait an extra hour after your shift for me to close, that won’t happen.” Harley cringed and shook their head, Ana went on, “I have to get home early tonight, anyway. My moms working the night shift at the hospital, and I don’t want my sister to be home alone for so long.”

“Anyway,” Ana’s demeaner changed as she crossed her arms with a teasing grin, “Didn’t you come here for something? Or are you just here to gossip?”

Harley gasped, “Right! My books!”

Ana laughed, “Right, your job.” She said, but it’s playful and teasing.

Harley did the same thing Chase just saw Akira do, pushing the cart behind the front desk, and stacking books to it. They muttered something about the fantasy genre to Ana.

As Harley began to gather books, Ana turned back to Chase, “Sorry about all that? Do you need any more help?”

“Uhm… No I don’t think so. Thanks.”

It was such a lame response, but Chase needed a moment to process all of that. Scarlet was the girl he ran into earlier, the one who didn’t let him into the archives room. And while Chase didn’t want to judge a book by it’s cover, he couldn’t help but to agree with Harley. Something about her made him uncomfortable, she felt… too nice.

Chase sighed, he had to tell Deacon about this later.

—

HE FINALLY FOUND THE DARN CARTS!

It only took thirty minutes, which was thirty minutes too long. Leaving Chase with only one hour left to put up the rest of his share of the books and figure out a way to break into the place.

That… Wow that sure was a sentence.

Chase had just placed away one stack of books, turning into one of the aisles and accidentally knocking into someone… Again. Man, this really was not his day.

“Oh wow,” Chase had no idea how he recognizes Harley’s voice, especially when they’re doing that flirty tone that is definitely not for Chase, “I’m so sorry. Here, let me hel—"

They lock eyes, and Harley sighed loudly and so dramatically that Chase wondered if she was groaning instead, rolling their head back and wobbling around.

“Come on, man. SERIOUSLY?!” Harley yelled, frustration flooding their voice.

“You know, this would count as stalking if you could actually run into the person you’re trying to run into.”

“Shut up.”

“Nice to see you too, dude.” Chase said unfazed. He is seriously not in the mood for Harley and their ever-failing attempts to get with his cousin.

That emotion must have been evident, as Harley’s frustration dissipates, and their eyes soften, “Hey, you okay dude?”

“I have to be.”

Harley cringed, “That’s… Not a good mentality, you know?”

“I know,” Chase looked down, hands pushed into fists, “But I have to. It’s the only thing keeping me going.”

He shouldn’t be saying this, he knows he shouldn’t be. But this day has been exhausting, he’s so tired, he had no idea where Deacon was. He wanted to sleep in at the hotel, but there’s something more important that must come first before he can rest.

“Are you sure you can’t help me get into the room?”

Harley looked taken aback, “No, not really. Scarlet’s already left for the day, and the only person who has access to the keys is Ana.”

“And you can’t get in the room?”

Harley shakes their head, “No.”

This is so stupid, “I’ll just ask Ana then.” He pushed past Harley.

“Wait, don’t!” He turned back to Harley, who looked conflicted, “Ana is… That girl is too kind for her own good. She would agree to help you without a second thought.”

Chase tilted his head, “And that’s bad because…?”

“Because she’ll get in trouble. If Mrs. Borage heard Ana helped you get into the room, she could lose her job. And Mrs. Borage is the type to take those things seriously, she would report Ana to her university, her scholarship.”

Chase felt something tug in his heart. He didn’t know Ana all that well, he hadn’t even known her for a full twenty-four hours yet. He wanted to get more information, he wanted to save Buddy and Violet, more than anything. But was he willing to destroy the future someone else had worked so hard for?

… No, he wasn’t. He couldn’t do that to someone. Especially not to Ana, who had been nothing but kind to him and Deacon all day.

Crap, what else can he do? He could… Try to distract Ana while Deacon sneaked into the office to get the keys. Oh, but what about Akira? Harley could try to distract him, oh, but he seemed like the type to not pay much attention to Harley’s antics…

“You really want to get in that room, huh?” Harley asked.

“You have no idea.” Chase whispered under his breath.

He didn’t see it, but Harley’s face changed. They thought for a moment, as though searching their mind for an answer to help. All the while her face remained concerned, brows furrowed, and lips pushed together. And when she came to an answer, she looked back up, placing a hand on Chase’s arm to get his attention.

“… I can get you the key.”

Chase looked at them confused, “I thought you said—”

“I know what I said,” Harley interrupted, their face serious now, “I can help you both break in.”

Chase looked at Harley like they just called him a slur, “Don’t you work here????”

“Yeah, and I don’t get paid enough, you’re point is?”

That made NO SENSE, AT ALL, WHAT-SO-EVER. Doesn’t matter if you don’t get paid enough, helping someone break into your place of work?!

Those thoughts must have been evident on his face, because Harley sighed.

“Dude, I’m going to be blunt with you. You and your cousin are the most exciting thing I’ve seen at this place in almost a year.”

Chase cringed, “That’s… I can’t tell if that’s hilarious or depressing.”

“It’s both.”

“Oh…”

“I call it deprarious—”

“ANYWAY—" Chase said before this conversation got a little too awkward and real, “That still doesn’t explain why you would help us? I know it isn’t just for my cousin.”

Harley paused for a moment, hand still on Chase’s arm, and he wondered what she could be thinking about.

“I don’t know, I’ve…” Harley rubs the back of their neck, “I’ve never really liked seeing people sad. And, this is obviously important to you, you both looked so serious when I saw you two. Whatever is going on, means a lot to you both. And I just, want to help I guess.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that, but something pulled in his chest. Something trying to leak through his eyes, but he held it back. Harley didn’t even know them, and yet here they were, willing to risk their job to help two cousins she didn’t even know. All because she saw past the cover stories and saw their desperation.

“Thank you…”

Harley shook her head, “No problem, dude.”

Chase smiled, but then a question occurred to him, “Wait, but how are you going to…?”

Harley just smiled, “Just focus on putting away the books for now.”

—

“You got everything?” Deacon asked as he slipped on his backpack.

Chase nodded as he adjusted his bag around his shoulders, “Yup.”

Deacon nods, “Let’s go then.”

Akira had already clocked out, he even stopped by to say bye to the cousins. An action that surprised Chase, they didn’t talk much while they were here. But it was nice to know that he enjoyed their presence enough to say bye to them.

He hadn’t seen Harley since they last spoke, and while he trusted her (despite knowing he shouldn’t because they had just met a few hours ago), he couldn’t help but feel nervous at not seeing them for the past hour.

But he tried to hold onto that hope, that slimmer of trust. It was the only thing keeping him sane, the only thing that stopped him from slipping back into that dark abyss where he felt like his only option was to drown.

He knew that was extreme, but he couldn’t help it. He knew he couldn’t even rest when they get to the hotel, since they were immediately going to review their notes. But he knew that even if they didn’t review their notes when they got to the hotel, he wouldn’t be able to rest. Not until Buddy was in his arms and human. Not until Violet was able to hold her family in reality, and not in a book.

And like the sun rising and filling the world with light, Harley appeared.

“Hey!”

He knew it was her; he and Deacon were the only patrons left in the library. The only people left in the library at all were the cousins, Harley, and Ana. Who was at the front desk wrapping a scarf around her neck.

“Are y’all leaving?”

Deacon, unsurprisingly, began to short circuit. Chase almost felt bad for Harley, who had been trying all day to run into his cousin. And when they finally did, said cousin immediately fell apart at the seams, and lost all ability to even form sentences.

“Dah-Uhm-y-you…”

“Woah dude, a whole word? And I didn’t even have to help!”

Deacon was so far into his spurring alphabet soup that he didn’t even notice his cousin’s jab.

“Yes, we’re leaving.” Chase says, pulling his cousin by the ear in an attempt to stop his cousin before he reached the sun and exploded.

“Oh, well you forgot something?”

“I did?”

“Not YOU.”

Chase barely registered that insult because HOW DARE THEY?! When Harley walked up to Deacon, picking up his hand, and placing two pieces of paper in his palm.

“You can’t stutter in texting, right? It’d be nice to talk again with less nerves.”

Harley tilted their head with a bright smile, “I’ll see y’all later.” And then walked away.

No way. No way that that just happened. Holy carp, holy carp, this is AMAZING.

DEACON. THE DEACON EVERETT HOLLOW JUST GOT A GIRL’S NUMBER!

“HOLY CARP, RARE DORKIN W!!” The words flew out of Chase’s mouth, and his cousin turned bright red.

“SHUT UP, CHASE!”

—
“I-I am so sorry about my volume.” Deacon said to Ana once they reached the front desk.

Ana simply waved her hand and smiled, “There’s no need to apologize, it’s just us in the library.”

“Speaking of, I thought you said you were closing up today?” Chase asked, he had been thinking about it. Because he knew that if it was somehow found out that someone broke into the library, Ana would be the one getting in trouble since she was the one to lock up.

“Ah, yeah! Harley said they’d close for me today.” She grabbed a backpack, “They said they wanted me to get home to my sister. So, I’ve been trying to think of a way to make it up to her.”

Ana looked at Deacon, the papers in his hand, and then her eyes met Chase’s.

They pair shared a knowing look, and they both instantly knew what must be done.

“What was that all about anyway?” Ana asked, Deacon stumbled on his words but somehow managed a response.

“Ah-Uhm, just, Chase making fun of me.”

“It’s called teasing, Dorkin. I do it because I love you.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

Ana giggled, “Teasing is how some people show their love. It’s how I show my love.”

“Really?” Chase was surprised, “You don’t seem like the type.”

Ana smiled, and for the first time, Chase watched a mischievous grin grow on her face, “That’s because you were patrons, and I, a worker. But now I’m off the clock,” She buttoned up her sweater, “So now, we’re true peers.”

She smiled at them, and Chase returned it, glancing out through one of the windows and seeing the world outside was now pitch dark.

“Are you leaving right now?” He asked, Ana nodded.

“Is someone picking you up?”

Ana looked confused, “No.”

“We’ll walk you to your car then, it’s pretty late.”

Ana’s smile grew, a look of gratitude in her eyes, “Thank you.”

She grabbed the rest of her things, and the three of them made their way to the front of the building. Deacon had made it to the door first.

“So,” Ana began as Deacon held the door for her, twirling on her heel and placing her hands behind her back, that teasing smile from earlier returning, “What did Harley give you.”

Deacon’s face practically turned into a cherry, his body failing as he lets go of the door and it almost slammed into Chase’s face.

“Ah-Uh-W-Well, I don’t actually know! But uh—”

“She definitely gave him her number!” Chase said as he rubbed his now sore nose. When he took a step out of the building, he felt like he could breathe again, the ringing stopped.

“Oh? Really?” Ana said with a growing smirk.

“W-We still don’t know! Stop talking like that!”

Ana laughed, a hand in front of her mouth, “Sorry, sorry. Harley’s a good person, you know.” She twirled on her heel again, now walking forward rather than backwards, “You probably wouldn’t think it since you didn’t get to interact with them a lot today, but they love fiercely. If they see anyone hurt or in pain, doesn’t matter if she doesn’t know them that well, she’ll drop everything to help.” She gently kicked a rock and watched it fly far away from them, “I admire her a lot. The things she’s had to do, the things she’s chosen to do, I don’t think I would be able to do that. But Harley? It comes naturally to them; some people spend their whole lives trying to be able to do the things they can do.”

Ana looked at Deacon, that kind smile on her face, “I don’t say all that to make you feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to do. But you clearly like them a lot, and Harley likes you a lot too. I’ve only known them a year, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look at someone the way she does to you.” Ana laughed, “I don’t know if Chase told you, but she kept trying to run into you all day. But instead, she kept running into Chase.”

“Are you sure she won’t be mad you told him that?” Chase asked as they reached a small grey car. Ana pulled out a pair of keys and clicked a button, the car unlocked.

“She probably will be. But,” She turned back to Deacon, “I just wanted you to know. Make a decision you can be proud of; one you won’t regret.”

Ana walked in front of them, “Thank you again for walking me to my car. It meant a lot to me.”

“No problem.” Deacon responded, and Chase felt a warmth of pride swirl in his chest for his cousin.

Ana smiled, opened her door, then her eyes went wide.

“Oh! I almost forgot!”

She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out two cards with an illustration of a pumpkin on them, along with leaves colored orange and red falling from a tree branch.

“Here you go!” The cousins took the cards, “They’re cards for the library, in case you want a membership or a card. We’re supposed to give them out to new patrons.”

Chase flipped the card over in his hands, and true to Ana’s word, the card held the library’s contact information. And by that, it was really only the mailing address of the place, since it had its very strict no-technology rule.

Chase smiled, maybe, when this is all over, they can return here.

“Thanks, Ana.”

Chapter Text

During the drive back to the library, Chase bounced his knee, which caused the truck to shake slightly.

He had been thinking about Harley, their note, Ana and her kindness, but above all, he was thinking about Buddy.

While they couldn’t find the specific island, they were able to narrow it down to a general area. Ignoring the fact that said general area was a huge chuck of the ocean, and basically didn’t help them at all. But it was better than nothing, and Chase couldn’t help but to feel like Buddy was within his grasp.

He also thought about Scarlet, the library and its lack of technology. Deacon agreed with him that it was strange, and while it would make the break-in easier, they should still be careful.

He didn’t see Scarlet, but he said that it was good Chase only interacted with her once.

Chase didn’t mention the nosebleeds.

Deacon parked the truck; they had agreed to park roughly a mile away to avoid connections between the truck and the break in.

They got out of the truck and begin their one-mile hike.

Chase pulled out his phone, the brightness blinding him for a split second.

1:05 AM

It would take about thirty minutes for them to reach the library. So, if all goes well, they’ll reach it at around 1:35.

Chase rubbed his eyes; they had felt sore and just an hour ago his body was swaying. Chase swirled his energy drink in his hand before taking another sip. He couldn’t afford to be sleepy right now, he had to be aware. And so far, the drink seemed to be working perfectly.

“And I would walk five-hundred miles…” Chase sang quietly after goodness knows how many minutes of walking. He kicked a pebble on the road. “And I would walk five hundred more.”

“Chase—”

“I know,” Chase groaned quietly, “It’s just so quiet.”

“That’s a good thing, we don’t anyone to hear us. And we don’t want to hear anyone nearby.”

“I know,” Chase whispered.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, not uttering a single word, the song remaining unfinished.

They reached the parking lot, and Chase recalled saying bye to Ana just hours ago. It didn’t look that different from then, it was empty, not a single vehicle in sight. The only light luminating the area being the stars that shined above them.

“Ready?” Chase whispered; Deacon nodded.

“As I’ll ever be I guess.”

As they approached the ancient building, Chase watched Deacon pull out Harley’s note. They had gone over it so many times in the truck before they left for the hotel, that Chase knew exactly what was written in it. One side simply had Harley’s number, which Chase loved because he loved being right.

The other side, however…

There will be a lockpick under the right flowerpot next to the front doors. The lock used for the front door is a simple padlock, there’s no code needed. There are no alarms, or cameras, so don’t worry about setting off anything or being caught. If you don’t know how to pick a lock, just look it up on YouTube or something. Don’t ask where I got a lockpick. The keys to the archive room will be in the office, I left it unlocked. It’s a weird, red, purple color, think like, the color of a plum. Please get rid of this note, I don’t mind losing my job, but I do mind getting in legal trouble.

Keep my number though!!

“Are you sure we can trust her?” Deacon asked, his voice low.

Chase nodded, “If she was a member of Ex-Libris, why would she be helping us break into a library?” He scaned the building, “If this place really does have any information on Ex-Libris or the island, and Harley knew it did, why would they risk having that information exposed?”

Deacon didn’t respond for a moment, he seemed to be thinking, “You’re right. I guess we can trust her then.”

True to Harley’s word, under the right flowerpot was a lockpick, one small tool that was bent at the end, and another that looked like those little ‘Z’ shaped tools you get when assembling furniture.

“Who’s gonna do it?” Chase asked.

“I’ll do it,” Answered Deacon, “You hold the flashlight.”

Chase nodded, placing his bag down and pulling out said flashlight. Truthfully, he was surprised it came in handy. Deacon had thrown it in there that morning, “just in case” he said, while Chase had argued that they had flashlights on their phones.

Granted, he didn’t know they were going to be breaking into a building at the time.

With a click the area around them lit up, while Deacon picked up the lockpick, Chase examined the lock. It looked like it was made from steel, there was no combination or numbers required. Instead, a golden keyhole shined back at him, and he could barely make out the first pin out of who knew how many in the lock.

Deacon knelt on the ground and followed the video they both watched. Making sure not to touch the lock and inserted the lever. He turned the lock slightly, and then (blindly) began to feel around the lock with the pick. They couldn’t practice back at the hotel, but they paid careful attention to the video. Reviewing it and quizzing each other as though it were an exam.

Click!

Deacon turned the lock to the left slightly, and the pair looked at each other.

“One down.”

It took twenty minutes; they had to restart at one point because Deacon couldn’t find another pin. But eventually, they heard a loud click, and the lock popped open.

“I still can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“It was your idea.”

“I know, Chase, just… We could get in serious trouble if we get caught. Harley too.”

“… Then we don’t get caught.”

Deacon removed the picks, placing them in his pocket. Harley didn’t tell them what to do with them afterwards, and they didn’t want to leave any evidence with their fingerprints behind.

Chase pulled his sleeve over his hand and pulled the lock off the door.

“What should we do with it?” He held it up to Deacon.

“Just leave it to the side. It doesn’t have our fingerprints on it.” He looked around, his eyes landing on the same flowerpot the lockpick was left in, “Let’s leave it behind the flowerpot.”

Chase nodded, following Deacon’s orders, he returned to the door, and pushed it open.

The door made a loud creaking noise, which caused Chase to cringe. If anyone was inside the building, which he doubted, they now knew they were here.

Chase took in a deep breath and stepped into the building once more. His ears ranged just like they did earlier, goosebumps rode up his arms, and it felt more difficult to breathe.

Neither of them did anything for a moment, they just stood there. Taking in the building and its darkness, the stiffness in the air as the dust seemed to come alive and infect their lungs.

Chase heard something shuffling from his side, and turned to Deacon, who was rummaging through his backpack, “You remember where you saw the room, right?”

“I think so? I was wandering around, so it might take a minute.” Chase said as Deacon pulled out a lantern.

Wait, what—

“Why do you have a lantern!?”

“… So, I can see.

“Dorkin, you could have just brought a flashlight!”

“Yeah, but…”

“It’s cooler?”

“… Yeah.”

Chase sighed, “Alright, whatever, let’s just get the key.”

He walked over to the front desk, it was… Unnerving to see it alone, unaccompanied. The whole time they had been here, Ana was there. Either checking through logs, checking out books, or helping and greeting patrons. Seeing it abandoned in the dark sent another wave of goosebumps through Chase.

Moving behind the desk, he gently nudged the office door with his foot, and it swung open.

Okay, good.

The office looked like the rest of the library, but a little less maintained. Some parts of the wall appeared to have just begun showing signs of chipping. The floor seemed to be dusty, along with a lonely desk that accompanied it. There were bookshelves in here as well, but they appeared old, the wood was dark and almost fading. And the books that occupied the shelves looked even older.

Chase shined a flashlight at them, the pages were yellow, almost every single one. None of the books had a proper cover, some had even looked as though their covers had been torn off.

Chase didn’t know a lot about libraries, but he was pretty sure that this wasn’t normal.

He peeled his eyes away from the sight, scanning the walls for keys of some sort. Landing on a brown key holder with multiple keys dangling from it.

“Bingo!”

He quickly walked over to it, taking in each color of the keys. Which was… Odd. All the keys were a dull silver color, some looked newer while others looked like they were from the 70s or something.

The only one that stood out, was a dull, plum colored key. His fingers grazed it, and the world felt heavier.

“Chase?” He heard Deacon call him, and without a second thought, picked up the key and ran out of the office.

“I got it, sorry it took me a moment.”

Deacon’s lantern was now lit, it looked like it just used a regular light bulb rather than fire like the ones Chase saw in movies. “It’s okay, let’s go.”

The library felt like a tunnel now, one that was alive and breathed, whispering for them to come closer. To travel deeper into its darkness and see what secrets it held.

They had been walking for just a moment, Chase shining his light in almost every direction, when something caught his eye. He pulled away from Deacon for a moment, who didn’t seem to notice. At least, not until Chase was in one of the aisles, staring at something.

“Deacon…”

“Yeah—?”

Chase didn’t respond, but he heard his cousin’s footsteps grow louder before they stopped. And the air went thick and froze in time.

In front of them was a bookshelf, nothing more. They were empty, ransacked of their entries and moments of history. Stolen from the view of outsiders and whisked away to somewhere else. Chase turned around, shining his light down the aisle and behind him.

Almost the entire aisle was missing, the shelves being the only thing that implied books had once rested here.

“Why… Would they have a whole section of the library missing?”

“Maybe the books were too old?” Chase suggested, he hoped his voice didn’t sound as nervous as it did to him.

“Or maybe they’re trying to hide something.”

Chase didn’t want to suspect them, he didn’t. Ana was kind, Akira seemed like a good person, and Harley helped them break into her place of work for crying out loud.

But there was something in his chest now, it stirred and suffocated him as he desperately tried to think of an answer. One that would solve why these books, whatever they were about, were missing, that proved Harley didn’t have an ulterior motive, that Ana’s smile was real, that Akira was gentler than he appeared.

“M-maybe these books needed to be repaired?” His voice was weak, the excuse lame. But it looked like Deacon didn’t want to argue.

“Maybe…” He didn’t sound like he believed Chase and gestured with his arm, “Come on, let’s go.”

Chase lingered in the aisle for a moment, eyes scanning the now empty shelves, before complying with his cousin.

—

It had taken a few minutes, but they had finally found the door. Chase shined the light, and there it was, the same old wooden double doors, the aged walls, and the sign above them all.

Shade Archives

“This part of the library looks…”

“Old, right?” Chase said as he walked up to the doors and placed a hand on the wood. Playing with one of the chipping pieces before peeling it off. “That’s why it was weird to me. The rest of the place is so clean, but this door?” Chase shuffled through his pockets for the key, “The office too. It looked… Really old, Deacon. The books were basically yellow.”

Deacon hummed, thinking for a moment before speaking, “And you said a worker didn’t let you in?”

“Yeah, I remember she was blonde. And there was something about her that was… Unnerving.”

“Well,” Deacon walked up to Chase, standing by his side, “She can’t stop us now.”

“Yeah.” Chase responded as he held the key in his hands, before inserting it into the door’s keyhole. “She can’t.”

Click!

Chase pocketed the key, and with shaking hands, reached for the handles, and opened the door.

He felt like he was breathing in dust. Like this room hadn’t been opened in centuries, left to be forgotten and rot.

Deacon held the door open with a foot, “Do you want to put the key back now, or hold on to it?”

Chase thought for a moment, but he didn’t think for too long, “Let’s hold on to it.”

Deacon nodded, “Alright.”

The first step into the room was almost agonizing. Though Chase didn’t feel any physical pain, there was something tugging in him, that ringing got louder. Bouncing off his skull and pinching him from the inside. Deacon closed the door behind him, the creaking and the boom it made upon closing bounced off the walls and echoed in Chase’s skull.

But those feelings were overshadowed by the appearance of the room. Unlike the rest of the library, and even the office, the walls were practically peeling off. A thick layer of dust covered the floor, not a single inch of the original wood coming through. It looked like the dust was just pushed around. There were cobwebs everywhere, on the floor, the furniture, the shelves, walls, even the books.

Whatever this place was, it hadn’t been disturbed in a while.

Maybe it hadn’t been disturbed at all.

The room itself was enormous, the ceiling rode high, and there were stained glass windows above it, one’s Chase had only ever seen in old churches. There were so many shelves it gave Chase a headache, they were thick, and on their spines each shelf had something that was shaped like a wheel. The walls were covered by tall filing drawers, each reaching the ceiling, they were labeled, not by a printer, but handwritten. Chase tried to see what they said but he couldn’t read them at this distance.

“We’re still… In the library, right?” Chased asked, the question being brought to life through thick air. He shined his flashlight up at the stained glass, there were thirteen unique pieces, each with their eyes closed. One had a boy with dark hair holding some sort of orb of light in his hands. Another had a girl with a scarf covering her head, a baby cradled in her arms. In the center of it all, was an older looking man, he had a beard, and his hair seemed a lighter shade of brown. In his hands were a book, and twelve sets of keys.

Though it should have been that one to set Chase off, something else caught his eye.

Next to the man, was another stained glass, this one of a girl who couldn’t be older than sixteen. She wore a deep purple dress, her hair tied into complicated twists of a braid, her hands were resting on her chest. She seemed to be laying down, with white flowers surrounding her, her honey-blonde hair perfectly shaping her face.

She was the only one who had her eyes open.

She seemed to stare into Chase’s soul, but it didn’t frighten him. Rather, he felt almost comforted by it, as though a memory he had forgotten.

What did frighten him, was Deacon suddenly placing his hand on Chase’s shoulder. Dragging him out of his daze and scaring the LIFE OUT OF HIM.

Chase gasped involuntarily, “Oh my God, dude! Watch it!”

“Sorry,” Deacon said as Chase tried not to have a heart attack, “It’s just, you haven’t been responding to my questions.”

“Oh,” Was Deacon talking? It was just stained glass, Chase had seen stained glass before, countless times, “Sorry dude, no. I was distracted.” He pointed with his flashlight, “Why would there be stained glass in a library?”

Chase watched Deacon’s gaze follow his flashlight, saw his eyes widen. He didn’t say anything, and Chase couldn’t tell if he was deep thought or also mesmerized by it.

After a few moments, Deacon shook his head, “We should be careful.”

They walked deeper into the library, the ringing in Chase’s ears almost seemed to strengthen. He brushed his fingers against one of the wheel mechanisms on the shelves. “What are these?”

Deacon pointed his lantern in Chase’s direction, “They’re rolling stack shelves.”

“Rolling what?”

“Rolling stack shelves. They use wheels and a railing systems,” He shined his lantern down, and Chase saw metal lines with dents in the middle, “See? Those are the rails; the wheels are under the shelves. They take up less space because you move them using the wheel there. See how some are pushed together while others have smaller spaces, and some look just like the aisles in the library? They also hold more books than a regular shelf.”

“But why would they have them here? Why in an archives room, and not the actual library?”

“I don’t know, Chase,” Deacon shook his head, a hand on his forehead, “Something about this doesn’t add up, Chase. Something here doesn’t feel right… You felt it too, right? The moment we stepped in this library?”

“Yeah,” Chase whispered, “Like we stumbled into something that wasn’t meant to be discovered.”

For a moment, Chase considered not saying it, but only for a moment, “Then you feel that too, then.”

“What?”

Chase paused, should he… Really admit this? It was one thing to think about something, it was another to admit it out loud. But that feeling, that presence, Chase couldn’t shake it off, no matter how hard he tried to.

“That… Ringing. I feel like something is holding me down here, it went away when he left with Ana. And it came back when we walked back in,” Chase looked at the door, Deacon’s eyes followed, “And it got worse when we came in here. You feel it too, right?”

Deacon didn’t say anything, he stared at Chase with wide eyes. Chase tried to look into those eyes, tried to see what they were thinking, what emotion was behind them. And then Chase saw it.

Deacon was surprised.

“I do.” He confessed, and it hanged in the air like an unfulfilled prayer.

“I have so many questions and not a single one is getting answered.”

“I feel like at this point if we got an answer, it would only give us more questions.” Deacon groaned, he sounded exhausted, and Chase couldn’t blame him. They both were, they hadn’t slept since they both woke up at seven to leave.

“Let’s look around. I’m gonna go check out those file cabinets.”

Chase nodded, “I’ll stay here with the shelves then.”

Deacon began to walk off, but Chase heard his steps stop, “Don’t… Move the shelves. I know this place looks old, but we don’t actually know how long it’s been since a worker came in here. Let’s try not to touch or move anything unless we must.”

“Alright.”

Chase watched Deacon walk away for a moment, before turning on his foot and passing by different aisles.

The wood creaked under his steps, dust being picked up and thrown every time a foot hit the ground. He glanced at the shelves, each filled with what seemed to be thousands of books.

Chase had no idea where to start.

But as he traversed through the hall, the ringing grew louder. Stabbing into his head and eardrums like a knife cutting through a piece of cake. His chest feeling like it was being strangled and choked.

The ringing turned sharp; it felt like his ear was bleeding. Chase winced as a hand flew to his right ear, holding it as though it would lessen the pain.

He looked to his right, and in front of him was a narrow aisle, it hadn’t been opened completely, Chase could tell that much.

The ringing grew intense.

That aisle…

It was almost like a siren’s call, beckoning him to come closer, whispering to him like a sweet prayer.

And what else was there for Chase to do but listen?

He had underestimated the width of the aisle; he was barely able to squeeze his shoulders between the shelves, his shirt getting caught by stray pieces of wood.

But that ringing only grew as he traveled deeper, and it grew, and grew, and grew, and grew, aND—

It became too much, Chase hunched over, his head throbbing, his chest being strangled by thorns, he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He looked up, his eyes locking with an old book, torn and worn with age. But unlike everything else in this aisle, it didn’t have a single speck of dust on it. There were indents and scratches, and Chase wondered how long it had been here, how long it had existed.

He brought up his hand and brushed its spine.

The ringing stopped.

Open it, Something whispered to him.

He carefully pulled out the book, holding it in his hands. It felt heavy, despite not being that thick at all. The pages almost look golden, shimmering off the bit of moonlight escaping through the stained glass.

He opened to the first page, finding writings in a handwriting he couldn’t quite read. It almost looked like a combination of cursive and print. The letters were thick and long, some of them he had never even heard of before.

He flipped through the book, but, he realized, it wasn’t a book at all. It was a journal, maybe even a diary, and it belonged to someone long ago. Different pages wrote of different things, events, names, dates, almost anything one could think of. He skimmed through the pages, careful not to tear any.

And then one entry caught his eye.

Colette used the silver key today, and goodness, did she produce wonderful results. An entirely filled vile! It is amazing, I must believe it is in part, due to her relationship with the key.
            Sadly, all good things must end, for Colette has begun her courses, which means it is time for her to marry. I know that she is at the perfect age for marriage, at twelve years young. But she gets along with that key oh-so-well. It is a shame to lose such an integral part of this operation.
            We need more people. The children are getting older, Mathilda is only nine years young, even so, we do not have much time with her. She is my youngest daughter, but her beauty far exceeds that of her sisters and mother. It will not take long for a gentleman to ask for her hand once she becomes of age.
            I have spoken to my brother, and we think it will be best to expand the operation. He will help me search for a wealthy suitor for Colette. One who will pay us to wed her. In return, we can use the money to move out to the island where we found the keys.
            It will be a long, perilous journey, but as long as Mathilda and my sons — especially Evrarad, survive, it will be worth it.

… Oh my God, oh my God, holy shit, what the fuck.

Something traveled up Chase’s throat, but he pushed his lips closed and swallowed. His hands were shaking, he couldn’t help it, they shook so aggressively he was surprised he hadn’t dropped the book yet.

“D-Deacon…”

Nothing happened, no footsteps echoed through the room, or a cousin appearing by his side.

“Deacon.” Chase said a little louder, his voice was shaking as he read on, flipping through pages and pages. Speaking about different things, a wedding, telling a twelve year old to be ashamed of a period, preparing another one for birth, speaking to a son about “duty” and providing an heir, bloodlines, and an island—

“Deacon!”

Something fell, and footsteps grew in volume.

“Chase?! What happened? Are you—”

Chase wouldn’t know it, but the way he slowly turned to his cousin, eyes wide with disgust and shock, as he looked like he was about to throw up, was something that would haunt Deacon later that night.

“I think… I found something…”

Chapter Text

Chase shoved the journal into Deacon’s hands and pushed past him. He knew the aisle was crowded and that he probably hurt Deacon’s shoulders, but he didn’t care, it was suffocating him, he couldn’t breathe, the walls were closing in—

He recached the end of the aisle, his hands grabbed the edges of the shelf. and he leaned over and began gagging.

He can’t throw up, not here, not now. It’ll leave a mess, and they don’t know where they keep the mops and water and everything else required to clean it up. And it’ll leave a smell, and when someone came into this room again, they’ll smell it, and—

Another gag tried to crawl its way through his throat, but he managed to turn it into a cough. He tried to turn every one of them into a cough.

Who wrote that? Who could talk about their own children like that? Aren’t parents supposed to love and protect their children? He knew some of them didn’t, but there was no way they did something like this. Past or whatever it’s called be damned.

She was twelve, she was twelve and the bastard immediately started talking about how losing her would be bad for the “operation”. Not how messed up it was to marry her off, not about how she just started her period, not about how she was a child. But how they could best use her marriage to their advantage.

And the way he talked about the other girl, Mathilda? Talking about her “beauty” surpassing her mother, it made him want to throw up. She was nine, only nine, and they were already talking about when she would get married.

She was only a year older than Prunella.

Something travelled up Chase’s throat, but he had no choice but to swallow it.

“Oh my God…” Came a voice behind him. Right, Deacon, he was here, Chase had given him the journal.

Chase slowly turned around, hands on knees, “How could they do that?” He managed out through deep breaths, “They’re children.”

“Its… How things were back then, it was normal to them.”

“I don’t give a fuck if it was normal for them, that doesn’t make it okay!”

“I’m not saying it is, Chase!”

They both fell into a silence, neither of them saying a word as Deacon flipped through more pages of the diary and read. Presumably reading more entries in that forsaken thing.

“This…” another page flipped, “Chase, how did you find this? This is…”

“Awful?”

“Well, yeah, of course. The way this guy talks about his own daughters is disgusting, but,” He flipped through another page, “Chase, it talks about,” Deacon glanced around the aisle, he peeked past the books, then drew closer to Chase, his voice low and hushed, “The island.”

Chase made a face, “Why are you whispering, dude?” He really didn’t feel like talking anymore, talking made him want to throw up. Thinking about what was written in there, what else could be written in there made him want to curl up and vomit.

Deacon took a step toward his cousin, “Somone could be listening.”

“Someone like who?!” Chase threw his arms; he was NOT in the mood for this. His eyes felt sore, he had a headache from that stupid ringing, and his patience was on thin ice, “We’re the only one’s here, Deacon!”

Deacon took another few steps closer, “Lower your voice!”

Chase marched up to Deacon’s face, as though to prove his point, “No one else is here, dude!”

“That doesn’t mean they can’t be listening!”

Maybe his cousin really has gone clinically insane, “With what microphone, dude?! They don’t use any technology here!”

Something squeezed Chase’s shoulders, and it took him a moment to realize it was Deacon. His skin pinched in Deacon’s grasp. There was this look in his eyes that was so desperate yet frustrated.

For the first time, Chase felt fear toward his cousin. Even though it only lasted for a moment.

“That doesn’t mean they didn’t have other ways to listen in!” Deacon screamed, their faces still in close proximity. There was a dull thumping in Chase’s ear after Deacon screamed.

Then the words slowly processed in Chase’s head, running through a wheel and being checked for any mistakes. Deacon was right, of course, just because they didn’t see anyone doesn’t mean no one was here. There were other ways to eavesdrop, Chase knew there was. He lost count of how many times he had pressed his ear against his parent’s door when his dad got cancer. He would pause his music when he thought he heard his mom crying, checking to see if he had to run out of his room and comfort her.

When there is a will, there is a way.

Deacon pointed up to the ceiling, Chase’s eyes followed his finger and landed on an air vent.

And Chase learned that there is always, a way.

Deacon leaned toward Chase; he inched to his ear. His words are barely audible, but Chase managed to hear them.

“I don’t trust this place. Just because neither of us saw stairs doesn’t mean there isn’t an upper floor. Don’t mention the keys, at all.”

He pulled back, his eyes narrowed and filled with this air of tension that Chase almost felt like something was crawling up his skin. “Okay?” Deacon whispered, and Chase nodded his head.

“Okay.”

Deacon nodded then held the diary out to Chase, “Can you hold it for a moment?”

Yes, but he really didn’t want to. “Don’t you also have hands?”

“Yes, but I think… I was onto something.” He pointed past Chase, “I’m going to look at those filing cabinets again. Then I’ll start looking at the shelves.” He turned back to Chase, and for the first time since they broke in, he really looked at him. He saw the bags under his eyes, his hair uncombed and greasy, his nails neglected and growing.

He looked as though he once held his whole world before it was stolen from him.

“Maybe you should sit for a moment. That was… A lot of information to take in, just rest for now, okay.”

Chase nodded, because he felt like if he did anything else, he would fall apart.

—

Chase didn’t know how long he sat there against one of the shelves. He knew he closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again some time later. He wanted to check his phone, but decided against it, he didn’t feel like being blinded.

So instead, he sat there, resting, and being useless. Deacon was doing everything, even from earlier today. Deacon read most of the books, Deacon wrote down the most information, Deacon came up with the idea to break in, it was all Deacon.

Chase wasn’t jealous, though he didn’t say it a lot, he was proud of his cousin for being such a hard worker. It was a trait Chase admired of his cousin, because Chase knew he himself worked hard too, though, in his eyes it was never enough, despite Silver, Deacon, and Nox claiming otherwise.

Nox…

No, no, no, no, don’t think about that. But isn’t it a bad thing for consciously choosing not to think about his kidnapped boyfriend? This was all for him, after all. Though Chase always said it was for Buddy and Violet, he knew, deep down, that Nox was his priority.

More than anything, Chase was terrified he would be put in a position where he had to pick one of them. But the scariest part to him was that he knew who he would pick.

And he knew he would never be able to look Silver in the eyes again if he did it.

No, he can’t think of possible futures right now. His mind must be here, here, in the present, in what is happening right now.

This was for them, for Nox and Violet, for Silver and her family. All of this was for them.

But he felt like he wasn’t doing enough. Deacon was the one searching while Chase sat here and napped for who knew how long! Chase had to help, he had to work too, he had to find anything out about the island.

His eyes landed on the diary.

Chase swallowed a lump in his throat, before running his fingers across the leather of the cover. He picked it up and flipped through the pages, he tried to find the place he was at before he called Deacon over. And when he did, he flipped over to the next page, it was dated a few days after the previous entry.

            Colette has been engaged! The gentlemen who took her hand is from Dalcy family. How lucky we are to have found such a wealthy suitor. He told us she was the bride he has been searching for years. He was so eager to make her his bride, that he didn’t ask any questions when we requested such a hefty amount of money in exchange for her hand. He made no inquiries about a dowry; he did not seem to care for it that much.
            We can finally return to the island. I have been drafting some blueprints for the castle that shall be built. Everything is falling into place. Tomorrow, I shall appear in front of the King, make him aware of the island. Though, I will not inform him of its properties, nor of the keys we found. And I shall inform him of my intention to solely own the land, in exchange, he will receive any and all resources the land produces from us. If all goes well, we will be sailing on the ocean within a fortnight.
            Lord Thomas will get his bride, the King will get his resources, and I will get my power.

He heard someone’s footsteps, but he didn’t need to look to know it was Deacon.

“He sold her…”

“What?”

“The guy who wrote this,” Chase clutched the book harshly, as though his nails could travel past time and into the man that once held it, “He sold his own daughter. Just so they could go back to the—”

Island.

Chase swallowed a lump in his throat, staring at the words written down on the yellowed paper. As though re-reading them would change the past, undo what has been done and change the future that has already been written in history books.

“I think I’m gonna throw up, so take it.” He had thrown the journal in Deacon’s direction; it was a mistake reading more. He felt his knees go weak despite sitting, and he held his stomach as though it would keep his energy drink from earlier in.

“Chase—”

“Does it say how old he is? The guy? Colette was twelve, please tell me he was the same age at least.” Chase’s voice cracked at the last half of his statement.

Deacon hesitated, “I think… It’s best we don’t figure it out, given the context of marriages at the time.”

Chase tried to take in a deep breath, but it turned into a gag. He heard something scramble to the floor and felt Deacon rubbing his back.

“How could someone do that to their own kids? How could someone think that it was, okay?”

“… I don’t know, Chase.”

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Deacon. Not if it means hearing about that anymore.” Chase tried to catch his breath, but his voice turned desperate and raised in volume, “I know I have to, I know I do if we want to get Buddy back. But I never thought—” He stopped himself; he wasn’t sure if he could even utter the words he was thinking.

He had to face this, face the history and all the ugly truths and realities it held to save Nox and Violet. All its disgusting paths and choices people had made long ago, he had to look it in the eye and walk past it just to catch a glimpse of Buddy. He was willing to do it, he knew he was.

But he wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to.

“If it helps, Chase, she… Must have passed away a long time ago. The English used in it sounds so old, I’m surprised either of us could understand it.” Deacon chuckled lightly, Chase could tell it was less because of something funny and more so to try to make him feel better, “We can only hope that she found happiness after a while, and that she died happy.”

“I don’t think anybody could be happy if their dad sold them.”

Deacon went quiet, “I don’t think so either…”

This was too much, it was too heavy. Chase didn’t even know what the poor girl looked like, but despite so, he wished he could hold her. To reach out and take her away from such an ill fate, whisk her away to their world where she could choose to live as she pleased.

“Did you find anything?” Chase asked, the topic was too much. As selfish as he felt, he did not want to think of the poor girl who had been used as nothing more than a pawn for her father’s plans.

“I think so, but we’ll talk about it later.” The diary was gently placed back into Chase’s hands, who pulled away as if it burned him. “You don’t have to look at it anymore, but I still think you should hold on to it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just… Think you should.”

Chase scoffed, “Well that’s ominous.”

“Chase—” Deacon pushed him lightly, and it got a chuckle out of the two cousins. “You don’t have to read it, just hold on to it, okay?”

“Okay.”

Slowly, like the volume being increased on a radio, the ringing returned. But this time, Chase only heard it through his right ear.

The boys picked up their heads, turning to the same direction.

“I’ll be back.” Deacon said, his eyes still locked in the direction Chase heard the ringing coming from. He turned to look at Chase for just a moment, “Don’t go anywhere.” He walked out of the aisle with haste, making a sharp right turn.

And then he was gone.

Chase turned back to the diary, running his fingers through its cover. He remembered once in history, his teacher had taught them what people used to make book covers, and papers out of during medieval ages. But as he tries to recall those facts now, his mind failed him, only recalling that it had something to do with animal fat.

“You’re a shit dad.” Chase said as the ringing continued through his ear, “How could you do that to your own kid? She trusted you, probably.”

The book didn’t respond, nor did the man who once wrote in it all those centuries ago.

“You’re supposed to protect them,” Chase went on ignoring the ringing, “It’s your job to protect and love them. Not use them for your own benefit. If you can’t do that then don’t have kids, jerk.”

There was still no response, which Chase was almost grateful for, almost. The only reason he would be grateful for it was because if a man did respond, then that would mean he’d have to deal with a ghost on top of literally everything else going on in his life right now. And Chase didn’t think he could handle that at this very moment.

He picked up the diary, opening it back up but not reading, “I wonder if that was you on that glass window. It probably was.” Chase flipped through the diary, he took in the handwriting and illustrations. There was one of a young girl with dark hair in a fancy dress standing next to a man, Chase wondered if it was Colette. There was another one of a little girl, her hair honey-blonde, and it was twisted into braids that looped around her ear and to the back of her head. Right above her was a drawing of a young man’s face, his hair a light brown, and he smiled ear to ear.

Chase flipped to the next page, and there, covering the entire page from head to toe, was a sketch of Silver. She appeared sitting, her hands draped over her lap, and a part of her hair falling past her shoulder.

She wasn’t smiling.

“Why did someone like you have to end up with the keys?”

He wanted to hope they were at least kind to Silver and her siblings. That they didn’t shut down Bronze’s advice or punished Tine when they did one of their pranks or got after Rose when he fell for someone.

He wanted to hope they didn’t, that they—no, that the man who once wrote on these pages didn’t hurt the keys or cruelly punish them. But Chase had heard the stories from Silver, Goldie, Bronze, Tine, Ruby, all of them. How they were physically pushed out of the way, picked up without consent, screamed at, and sometimes, though very rarely, thrown.

“This is all your fault.” He whispered to the book, his nails digging into his ancient pages as he stared into Silver’s hollow eyes. He knew he could damage it, destroy one of their only leads. But Chase didn’t care, whoever this man was, whatever he looked like, he was the reason for all of this. He was so angry he did not notice when the ringing in his ears stopped. All he could think about was that this man was the reason Silver and Goldie were used to such horrible treatment, why Bronze was so suspicious of humans, why Saph strived for perfection, why Rose guarded his heart ever so slightly, why—

Why Nox was a key. Why Nox had grown up behind castle walls, trained and worked to the bone every day. Nox, who saw the keys for what they were. Nox, who spent months of planning. Nox, who risked everything for them.

It was Nox who got them out of that prison. Nox, who got caught.

It was Buddy, who got punished in place of the keys, who was turned into one in a ritual he had no memory of. And it was Violet who stayed at his side, who even now, remained loyal to her pervious key holder. Who was forced to choose between her family or keep company of her family’s savior.

“It was you.” Chase whispered through gritted teeth, unaware of the paper crumbling under his hands, “Who did this to them. You were the herald for their fates.”

‘You’re the reason Iron lost their brother. You’re the reason Silver has trust issues. You’re the reason they’re not used to basic human decency. I don’t care if you’re dead, if you’ve been dead for thousands of years, it’s not enough. You never faced the consequences, you never cared what you did to them, or your children. You never suffered like how I have, how Nox has, like Silver has. You never suffered.’

‘This is all your fault. You started all of this. Everything, eVERY, SINGLE, FUCKING THING—'

“YOU’RE THE REASON RAVEN IS DEAD!”

A loud creaking echoed through the room.

Chase picked up his head as the sound bounced off the books and into his ears.

Someone is in the library.

He felt himself slowly lose control of his hands, the diary slipped through his fingers, but he clutched it at the last moment. His right hand flew to his mouth, eyes wide with horror.

He let his emotions take over him.

“Who’s here?!” The voice is deep and monotone like, travelling through the old stones and wood, and finding Chase.

Was this the old lady? No, it wasn’t, an old lady didn’t sound like that. It couldn’t be Harley; she helped them break in. Was it Akria? No, his voice was deeper than this one. Ana’s was too light, Scarlet’s too.

Who… Who was this? Who were they in the room with? Who found them?

He couldn’t move, he felt like if he moved at all, he would be found. But he had to, he had to get out of here.

His eyes were glued to the books in front of him, as though the books held a way for him to see where the perpetrator was.

Flashlight… Right, he needed to turn off his flashlight, it’ll give away his location. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the books as he absently reached over to it with his right hand. It was next to him, he was sure of it, he was, he placed it right—

His knuckles brushed against something metal, Chase looked to the right and saw his flashlight rolling away. Quickly and calmly, slowly making its way out of the aisle to illuminate the whole room.

… OH SHI—

He placed the diary aside, and began crawling to the flashlight, his knees hurt against the tile of the floor, but he could deal with the bruises later. Trying his best to stay quiet as he frantically crawled over to the flashlight.

Chase pushed himself forward, landing on his chest, but managed to grab the flashlight right before it rolled out of the aisle. He pulled the flashlight to him, covering the light with his left hand and turned it off.

Click!

The sound ricocheted off the walls and books, travelling through the room.

Oh, no—

Chase heard rapid distant footsteps heading toward him. He flipped over and crawled back over to the diary. He scooped it up and pressed it against his chest, the footsteps getting closer, they were almost on top of him.

He kept crawling, though it was a bit more difficult now with one hand holding a diary, and the other holding a flashlight while trying to avoid banging it against the floor. He bounced himself up with his right hand, causing his knees to hit against the floor harder than normally. It almost felt like his skin was being pulled and they were going to be bruised later, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that.

He reached the edge of the aisle and made a hard left to the next one right as someone stepped into the aisle, he was just in.

He kept going until he was halfway through the aisle, he stopped only to catch his breath and rest his knees. Which almost felt like they were screaming in pain now, Chase held one of his knees and tried not to wince.

Deacon.

Deacon, he needed to find Deacon. Chase knew he went right, deeper into the archives, but he didn’t know where else Deacon could be other than that direction. He closed his eyes for a moment before snapping them back open because that is such a stupid thing to do right now.

He saw the illumination of the flashlight through the gaps of the books, he shifted over to the right side to avoid being spotted. He tried to calm his breathing and heart rate, which felt like it was trying to burst out of his chest. Something prickled through his heart, something with sharp thorns and rusted nails, edging closer with every second to strangling him.

He moved forward a bit to try and peek past the books and see who the stalker was. But it was no use, whoever they were, they hid their identity well. A dark jacket covered their figure, and a hoodie hid every inch of hair.

The stalker froze for a moment and turned around swiftly. Chase dropped to the floor; he held his breath as though it would reveal his location. His eyes tried to peek past the books again without moving his head, but he couldn’t see anything. But he felt the stalker, he felt them right next to him, the only thing ensuring Chase safety being a steel bookshelf.

The light illuminated the spot he was just at moments ago, and it trailed lower. Closer, and closer to him, Chase squeezed himself together so tightly he thought he was going to pop.

He heard a click of a tongue, and the light withdrew. He felt his shoulders loosen and his breathing returned.

He saw a figure in the corner of his gaze now make its way to the edge of the aisle.

Shoot, move, move, MOVE—

Chase scrambled to his knees; he held his bag away from the floor to avoid making any noise and crawled his way out of the aisle. He was about to turn into the next one when he noticed the two shelves were squeezed together, leaving no room to go in.

Chase held his tongue from telling the bookshelves how stupid they were, and whose genius idea was it to attach railings to bookshelves of all things and kept moving. Stopping in front of a small aisle, smaller than the one where he found the diary. He would have to squeeze his way through this one, like in those action video games he used to see his dad play.

And he did just that, he frantically clambered to his feet, and squeezed himself into the aisle. He held the diary and flashlight close to his chest, as though they would protect him if caught. And technically, they could, the flashlight was heavy, and it was metal after all, it could probably knock someone out…

Chase put a pin in that thought, hoping it would actually stay for once, and that they pin wouldn’t randomly go weak and fall. And cause Chase to forever lose the thought like literally every single time prior to this moment.

He shimmied his way through the aisle, stopping at the edge to peek out and spy on the stalker, but there was no one in sight.

Crap, he needed to think, and quick. He needed to find a way out of here, find a way to distract them or something.

His eyes landed on the row of books in front of him, and, well, it was better than nothing.

He tucked the flashlight under his arm, grabbed two books, and chucked them as far and as hard as he could. He didn’t see where they landed, but he heard a loud, distant boom.

The stalker ran out of the aisle, and when Chase couldn’t see them anymore, he bolted.

He couldn’t hear anything, he didn’t know if he was making too much noise, but he didn’t care. He just wanted distance, he wanted to get as far away from this person as possible, find Deacon, and get the hell out of here.

Small problem with that plan: HE HAD NO IDEA WHERE HIS COUSIN WAS!

Something popped under his feet, it shattered around the floor like party confetti. Chase slowly looked down and saw a glass candle now shattered under his shoes. He shifted slightly and a crunching noise echoed through the room.

If he wasn’t making noise before, he was now.

He heard someone running, their feet rapidly slamming onto the floor and echoing throughout the walls. Chase pushed past the glass and kept moving forward, a wall came into view when he reached the edge of the room, and he ducked into the last aisle. He fell to the floor and his hands clasped over his mouth.

‘Why was there a GLASS CANDLE in the middle of a HALLWAY?!’, He thought, ‘Who’s idea was that?!’

He looked down to his shoes and saw some glass shards wedged into the sole of his shoe. They didn’t hurt, but they would cause noise. He reached down, he felt like he had no control of his hand as it shook uncontrollably. He caught one of the shards, and plucked it out, he went to another one, pulled it out, another—

It wedged into his hand; Chase saw red as glass pierced through his skin and into his finger. His hand on his mouth pushed deeper into his skin, it squeezed his nose as Chase took in a sharp breath from the pain.

Slowly, he removed his hand form his mouth, he aligned his fingers with the glass wedged into his left pointer finger and plucked it out. Chase bit his tongue and felt pressure against his chest as he tried to stay silent.

Chase peeked past the shelf and saw the stalker go into one of the aisles. They weren’t running anymore, but they were still moving, still looking for him and Deacon. Their footsteps rang through the room, mocking Chase for how trapped he was in such a large space.

Where the hell was his cousin?!

Chase pulled his sleeve down; he wrapped it around his now bleeding finger to avoid leaving a trail. His right hand held the other; he leaned his head against the bookshelf and closed his eyes. The footsteps growing closer and louder, low heels clanking against the tiled floor, growing closer, and louder, and more furious, angry, dangerous, and—

Someone’s hand pushed into his mouth, and Chase would have screamed had it not been for the sight of Deacon pushing a finger to his own mouth, quietly shushing his cousin, he had his mask pulled back up. Chase’s body relaxed (when did it tense up?) as he nodded to Deacon, who in turn removed his hand. Deacon gestured his head into the direction of the door, Chase nodded. He slipped the diary into his bag, being careful not to pull on the Velcro and make noise.

It was time to get the hell out of here. They got what they needed, at least, Chase hoped they did.

Deacon grabbed Chase’s elbow; he supported his weight as he helped his cousin to his feet. He let go once Chase was up, and Chase held the flashlight close to his chest. It might come in handy later.

Deacon leaned against the shelf, he peeked out for a moment, holding a palm out in front of Chase. Chase heard his heartbeat in his ears, once, twice, three times, and on the fourth Deacon flipped his hand over and motioned for Chase to follow.

They crossed roughly six aisles before Deacon held an arm out and stopped Chase right in his tracks. His cousin stared into the next aisle, Chase followed the red line of fabric travelling down the sleeve of the jacket Deacon was wearing, it was then Chase realized Deacon was shaking.

Chase leaned over his cousin’s arm and saw the stalker in the aisle. Shining their flashlight in almost every nook they could find.

Deacon snaked his hand into the aisle and grabbed a thick hardcover book. He turned to his cousin and motioned for him to stay still.

Chase was confused, but his dad had taught him long ago that there were times where you can’t fight.

This was one of those times.

So, he nodded, and stayed perfectly still as his cousin moved his arm. Chase watched him walk back to the last aisle they were just in. He held up three fingers, Chase didn’t understand until he saw Deacon prepare to throw something, and he held up one finger. He held up two when he had spread his feet apart and pulled the arm holding the book back.

When three fingers were held up, he threw the book and begun to run back to Chase. Deacon pushed Chase into the aisle right as the stalker ran out of the aisle and into the back of the room. They hid there for a moment, Deacon peeked out once more, and he moved out, Chase followed.

They moved through the room quickly, running past the aisles and the cabinets, and papers now scattered across the floor. But Chase could see the door now, they were almost out, it was right there—

Crash!

The boys froze, both of their eyes falling downwards and landing on the shattered glass pieces of the candle Chase has broken moments prior.

Deacon slowly turned around and glared at his cousin. He considered throwing Chase to the wolves for a brief moment when his cousin responded to his own blunder by giving an awkward thumbs up and a nervous smile. He only decides against it because couldn’t do that Aunt Myra, Buddy, and Silver.

Chase watched in confusion as Deacon’s face lit up, and he was about to turn around when he realized why it was lit up.

Chase couldn’t move; his body had been frozen in place. He looked at Deacon, whose eyes were petrified, his pupils nothing more than a speck of dirt. Chase didn’t have to turn around to know his cousin was locking eyes with the stalker.

Chase couldn’t turn around at all.

He didn’t have a cover for his face.

His heart bashed against his chest, hammering into his ears until he could hear nothing else but the beat from within his own body and his breathing.

“RUN!”

Chase shoved Deacon forward and pulled him as he ran. There was no use in being quiet anymore, all that mattered was being fast.

Deacon snapped back to reality and began to run on his own. They ran past the shelves; Chase grabbed a pile of paper and threw it behind him. Deacon looked at him like he was crazy, but THIS IS ENTIRE DAMN SITUATION WAS CRAZY.

Chase reached the doors first, he slid to the right door and held the handle. Deacon ran out of the doors right behind him, and Chase grabbed the left door handle and shut the doors swiftly.

Chase reached into his pocket, and he fumbled his hand around in it.

“What are you doing?!” Deacon screamed; Chase didn’t look at him.

“Buying us time!”

He felt his hands brush against the key and pulled it out. He quickly locked the door, then threw the key.

He…

“DUDE!”

“I’M SORRY, I PANICKED!”

Chase ran over to the direction he threw the key in. He clicked his flashlight on and searched frantically. He fell to his knees as he searched for anything plum colored.

That key had their fingerprints on it, they can’t leave it behind.

“What are you doing?!” Something rammed against the archive’s door.

“Looking for it, now go!” Chase threw his arms telling Deacon to run. This was his blunder, and he was going to fix it.

Something creaked, Chase looked up to see his cousin also on his knees looking. Their eyes locked, but neither said anything and they resumed the search.

The stalker began banging on the door.

Chase ran to the next aisle checking the bookshelves.

BANG!

The floor.

BANG!

Even the damn ceiling.

BANG!

Where the hell did that stupid piece of metal go?!

BANG!

“I got it!” Deacon screamed, “Come on!”

Chase scrambled to his feet as he heard wood begin to break. He watched Deacon run out of the aisle behind him and shoved into the shelf behind him. His shoulder screamed in pain as the shelf topped over, hitting the one behind it and creating a domino effect. Chase ran his other shoulder into the other shelf, and only stayed to make sure it fell over before running out of the aisle.

“Oh my God, Harley is going to get FIRED!”

REALLY, DEACON?! THAT’S YOUR MAIN CONCERN RIGHT NOW?

“We’ll apologize to her tomorrow,” Chase pushed Deacon forward, “We need to go!”

He heard the door bust open as they continued running.

“GET THE LOCK FROM THE FLOWERPOT!” Chase screamed to his cousin who was reaching the doors.

Deacon ran through the front doors and ducked to the left side. He held the door open, and Chase tried to run faster.

He ran past the doors, almost sliding against the concrete while he tried to stop himself. Deacon slammed the door closed, pulled out the lock from his pocket using his sleeve and shut it around the handles.

“GO!”

Chase listened and ran forward.

“Not that way! Go into the forest! Avoid the truck!” A voice yelled behind him, and he listened.

Something snaked around in Chase’s chest, it made his heartbeat rapidly, his legs move faster than what he believed he was capable of. It grabbed him by the throat and shook him to his very core.

He felt his pants stuck to his legs, the glasses slid down his nose, his button up was starting to fall off leaving a shoulder exposed.

They hit the undergrowth of the forest, something swiped Chase’s leg but he had no time to check it. His lungs burned, legs begging for a release as blood pounded in his ears.

Something ripped, and the bag’s strap was pulled back and it yanked Chase back by the throat.

“ACK—!”

“Cha—”

“Keep going!” Chase screamed as he found his footing, he tried to run but was pulled back once more.

He turned around and saw the bag caught in a chunk of wood.

Something rustled from behind, and it sounded like it was catching up.

No, no, no! This is not the time for this!

Chase grabbed the bag and pulled, there was no time to figure out what got caught, he had to move!

He pulled again, something tore, pulled again, and something ripped. He pulled harshly, placing all his strength into the motion and something shredded as he flew onto his back.

He rolled over, clambered onto his feet, and started running again. He could barely make out Deacon’s figure as it waved its arms frantically.

Chase pushed his legs harder than he believed he could do, and he caught up to Deacon.

“Help me get up here.” He whispered frantically, and Chase wasted no time. He leaned against the tree, crouched, and cupped his hands.

Deacon was no good at climbing trees, they learned that at a young age, he was also heavier than he looked. But he got up there, and Chase turned around grabbed a low hanging branch, and pulled himself up. He pulled himself up higher and higher, following Deacon.

Deacon found a branch, swung his leg over, and rested his head against the trunk of the tree. Chase found a lower hanging one, turned over, and laid against the tree.

They heard rustling from beneath them, and both cousins looked down. Their stalker came into clear view now, but their hair was still covered along with their face.

They looked around frantically, the flashlight still in their hands, and Chase prayed that they wouldn’t shine it up.

Their breathing turned ragged before they threw the flashlight against the ground and screamed.

“God DAMN IT!”

With one last screech, they reached back down, picked up the flashlight, and made their way back to the library.

They waited until the stalker was out of view, they waited until they couldn’t hear their footsteps, until the leaves and grass stopped rustling.

And then they rested, catching their breaths, Chase felt like he couldn’t breathe. His chest ached, there was already that dull feeling of emptiness in his heart, the one that had been there for almost a month now. But now, alongside it, was his heart pumping blood into his ears and head.

But at least, they were able to find a lead.

Chase peeled his bag open, making sure not to open it too quickly unless he wanted another running exercise. He reached into the bag and—

He was confused when his hand poked out through a large gapping hole in the bag.

Chase shot up from the tree, pulling the bag to him and opened it wide.

The diary was gone, in its place was now a large gaping hole.

Chapter Text

They didn’t return to the hotel, and Chase hadn’t told Deacon about the diary yet.

He had already felt so useless; Deacon did most of the work while Chase just snoozed off. But to lose the one bit of critical information he did find? He might as well have not even bothered to show up to the break in.

His knee bounced uncontrollably; his hands intertwined while his thumbs rubbed together. The smooth surface of the table cooled the skin on his arms. Despite the decreased temperature, he had been sweating, his heart pumped blood into his ears.

They had stopped at a Taco Bell, both too afraid to return to the hotel in fear of being followed. While Deacon had a snack before they broke into the library, Chase hadn’t eaten since the previous morning at his grandfather’s house. Deacon was at the register ordering, using the spare cash Ralph had given them before they set off.

Something roared right next to him outside the window. The sky, amidst all its darkness, briefly lit up and revealed that dark and heavy clouds covered the sky. His eyes fell from the sky and surveyed the empty parking lot, looking for any sort of strange figure. When he found nothing, he returned his gaze back to his hands on the table.

Chase didn’t know how to bring up the diary. He was so stupid! Why did he think it was a good idea to pull on the bag when it had the diary in it?! Why didn’t he stop to think that the ripping noise meant it was being torn?! It was so obvious, its plain common logic, what is wrong with him?!

How could he tell Deacon? They risked so much just to get into that building, they committed a felony! They got Harley fired, because there was no doubt that Harley is going to get fired, if they were lucky enough, Harley wouldn’t get sued! And if they were really lucky, then the person chasing them didn’t see Chase’s face! He was so stupid to think some dumb glasses would conceal his identity, his number one most distinguishable trait was his hair!

Deacon trusted him with that diary, to keep it safe, to keep it in his hands for them to read later. That diary had everything, and even if it didn’t, it had something which was better than nothing at all! And yet, here Chase sat now, alone with no diary, a stolen key and a lock pick, hungry, and with nothing. Nothing closer to get him to the island, nothing closer to reunite the keys, and nothing closer to Buddy.

It had been three weeks! Almost a month! And he was nowhere near closer now than he was when Buddy got kidnapped. That diary was their only hope, and now they have nothing. All because Chase couldn’t use his fucking head and think, ‘Hey! If the bag is caught on a branch! Maybe it would be best to NOT PULL IT!’

“Here,” Came a voice from above, Chase looked up and was met with a freckled face, “You’re in luck, apparently they use a different fryer for gluten items, and gluten free items.”

Deacon placed a black bowl in front of Chase, it had assortments of grilled chicken and different vegetables on it and rice. Chase didn’t have the brain power to identify the vegetables placed in the meal.

“Thanks.” He mumbled. His quiet, soft voice was a dark contrast to the screaming voices clawing in his head. Blaming him for every misstep and mistake, for all the bad things that have happened until this point.

Why did he stay in bed for so long? Why didn’t he get up earlier? He spent two weeks, almost three, just rotting away in a bed. What kind of partner does that? He had heard stories about parents, mothers, fathers, partners, etc. Parents never rested when their children were kidnapped, and most partners were the same, they did everything in their power to search for their loved one. Even if there was basically nothing for them to do, they found something.

What did that say about him as a partner? What did it say about his feelings toward Buddy? He loved Buddy, truly and deeply, more than anything in the world. Chase would do anything for him. At least, he thought he did, but what does it say about his feelings if he didn’t immediately search for Buddy? What did it say about him for choosing to give up and sleep all day? Why did he do nothing for so long? Time was precious, and they didn’t know how much of it they had.

Why didn’t he do anything sooner?

Chase picked at his food, he felt like he would throw up if he ate anything. He only ate because of the rumbling in his stomach, and the fact that he hadn’t eaten in over twenty hours. He knew that if Buddy was here, he would scold Chase for not taking care of himself.

… Something told Chase that Buddy wasn’t taking care of himself either.

“We should leave soon,” Deacon broke the silence in a hushed voice, “We don’t know if we were followed.”

“We need to sleep.”

Chase heard a sigh, “We do… But I don’t feel safe here anymore.”

Chase didn’t know how to argue against that, because Deacon had a point, one he agreed with. Chase didn’t feel safe here either, not anymore. He didn’t even want to stay in the Taco Bell for that long, afraid someone was tailing them from a distance.

Chase picked off a shred of chicken and flicked it to the plate. He picked off another piece and considered flicking it too, before eating it.

“You shouldn’t play with your food, Chase.”

Chase gave his cousin a side-eye, “You sound like Aunt Beth.”

They fell into silence once more, Deacon returned to his meal, and Chase continued to pick at his. He only ate tiny bits of chicken that he tore off, most of the shreds landed back into the bowl. He poked at the various vegetables, pushed the rice around, before he placed the spoon back into the bowl.

“I’m not hungry.” He stood up and scooted out of the booth, “I’m going to the restroom.”

He didn’t wait for Deacon to respond, he just stood up and walked to the direction of the bathroom sign. There were only two workers present at the place, one in the kitchen, the other at the register.

He didn’t look at either of them.

He pushed open the door, locked it, and bent over.

He was hungry, but he felt like if he ate anything he would throw up. He was so exhausted, but his mind was racing, blood pumped through his head and ears and denied him the privilege to rest.

His heart had been clawed, shot, stabbed, and suffocated, but it had yet to break. After everything, losing his dad, his mom getting sick, Buddy being kidnapped, it had yet to break. It held itself together tightly, got to its feet, and stood up. It had faced earthquakes, hurricanes, tsunamis, and it always remained standing after every obstacle. He refused to let his heart be knocked down, to give up, to shatter.

Because if he fell, he wouldn’t be able to help, he wouldn’t be able to help Deacon through the books, figure out the island’s location, or anything.

If Chase fell, he knew he wouldn’t be able to get back up.

So, he had keep pushing himself, to every limit. There was no alternative, because the only alternative that there was, was giving up. And Chase would never give up, because giving up on facing reality, facing his emotions, meant giving up on Buddy.

And he would never give up on Buddy.

‘But it’s so hard. ’

His breathing becomes rocky, his control of it slipped past his fingers and grew rapid. He breathed in harshly; he sounded like a suffocating animal. The dam was cracking, it shook, and rubble fell off and apart.

The pressure against the dam grew, and it broke.

—

Chase held the damped paper towel against his face. Thank God the water in this place was freezing. He bunched up the paper towel and threw it into the trash bin. He pulled out another squared paper towel, ran it under the cold tap water, and held it against his eyes.

He didn’t know how long he stood there holding the towel against his eyes. He just stood; the room only being filled with occasional sniffs. While his head echoed with all sorts of thoughts that bounced around. Some whispered about the diary, others kicked him over Nox, and most desperately tried to distract him to make time move faster.

Unfortunately, the other, more harsh voices were louder.

He patted the towel against his skin as he took in a deep breath, there was another sniffle. He pulled the towel down, the redness in his face had faded, one might not even notice it. He bunched up the paper towel, blew his nose, threw it in the trash-can, washed his hands and dried them.

He turned back to the mirror, took in a deep breath, and forced his shoulders to appear relaxed. He softened his face though it felt unnatural, and the pain thumping against his head every other second felt like it had nowhere to go. He forced his eyes to widen and appear more friendly, something about it looked off. So, he instinctively pocketed his hands, his skin meeting something stiff.

He pulled it out, eyebrows furrowed with confusion as he was met with the library card Ana gave them hours ago.

He flipped it over his hands and read over the library’s contact information, he took in the illustration of the falling leaves. Their colors now darkened and gloomy with the bathroom lighting.

He ran his fingers over the card, there was a slight bumpy texture to it like those baseball cards his dad had. The leaves were a bit smoother, possibly because they were colored and possibly flattened to imprint the image. Or whatever it is that people do to make business cards and put pictures on them.

He was running his fingers against the card so softly that when it got caught on something, the first thing Chase felt was confusion.

It was the pumpkin, he toyed with the edge just a bit, before it was peeled off. The other side was sticky like a sticker. He squeezed the image between his fingers and felt a bump in the middle of it.

It must have been a sticker, placed on the card for a special touch? He knew some businesses did that, and maybe it was some sort of budget cuts? It was squishy, yet quite solid, making it difficult to squish. His mom once came home with a pack of stickers like this once, the memory made him smile faintly.

A memory of Nox clicks into his mind. His fingers running through Chase’s hair as he whispered quiet declarations of love.

Chase’s smile fell and his body tensed up.

Oh God, Nox. He failed him, he failed him. He lost the only bit of evidence that they had, the only lead. How would they ever find the island now? Everything was lost, they still had no idea where the island was, only an area. And that solved absolutely nothing, because while it was a small area on a map, in person it was huge. He couldn’t face Deacon; he couldn’t tell him the truth. He would never see Buddy again, never hear his laugh, or see the sun, not some fake sun in some stupid book, the real sun. The real sunlight from the real world hit his hair and his skin, and Chase would never be able to hold him again, and—

Something rapped against the door, and despite its gentleness, it made Chase jump.

“You okay in there, Chase?” Came Deacon’s muffled voice through the door.

Chase stuck the sticker back to the card, shoot, shoot, how long had he been in here. “Yeah! I’ll be out in a sec!” He fumbled with the sticker and the card before it finally stuck, and he placed it back in his pocket.

“… Okay.” Responded Deacon, Chase heard his footsteps grow distant as he checked himself in the mirror. His nose was still a bit red, but it wasn’t noticeable, and his face was considerably less puffy now.

With a deep breath, Chase unlocked the door and walked back out to reality. He avoided the worker’s gazes and headed back towards the table. Deacon stood there with a bag of to-go boxes and the keys in his hands.

He held up the keys, “We should get going.”

Chase only nodded, he picked up the food, and the two headed out of Taco Bell, crossed the parking lot, and got into the truck. They agreed to drive around the town instead of heading back to the hotel, they were both still on edge. Chase kept checking both mirrors to see if someone was following them. He bounced his knee so hard that the car shook slightly at every red light. Light raindrops began to land on the windows, Deacon occasionally flipped the windshield wipers on when the drops began to cloud the window too much.

He needed to tell Deacon, needed to let it out before the truth destroyed him at the seams. But as he tried to form the words, something prickled in his chest. Like a thick, heavy wave of fog rolled in, it tightened around his chest and made it hard to breathe.

He just had to say it. Stop thinking, just say it. Let it out, think of the words, and—

“I lost the diary.”

The truck had already been silent, the only sound that filled their ears was the AC and the car’s engine, with an occasional chirp that came from crickets. Along with the rain outside of the car, they had now grown heavier, and Deacon had fully turned on the windshield-wipers.

 But now something heavy filled the truck, Chase felt as though Earth’s gravity grew twice in strength and was trying to pull him down and into the dirt.

“… What—”

I shouldn’t have said anything, Chase thought while the truck slowed, he’s going to lecture me, and so is grandpa, and I really don’t want to be lectured. I wish Silver was here, she would understand, she would tell me it was okay, it was a mistake, and I shouldn’t feel too bad.

I wish Buddy was here, because if he was here, none of this would even be happening.

“I’m sorry,” The words tumbled out without thought, “I’m so sorry. The bag got caught on a piece of wood on the ground, and for some stupid reason I kept pulling on it. And it tore, and everything fell out including the diary. And I didn’t mean to do it, I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea, I was panicking, and, and scared, and I’m so sorry—"

The truck came to a halting stop, Chase’s hands flew in front of him and hit the dashboard. His head flew forward and almost slammed against the same dashboard.

“Shoot, Chase, I’m sorry, I just, you were talking so quickly, and you started making that face, and you looked like you were spiraling, and I panicked—Are you okay?”

Physically, yes. Mentally? No.

“I’m fine.” Is what he said though, because everyone already knew he wasn’t okay mentally. There was no point in opening wounds that are so obvious he may as well be blasting on a speaker saying so 24//7.

Chase picked up his head, he wondered if it felt heavier or if that was his imagination. He glanced out of a window, and noticed they weren’t on the road anymore. Instead, the truck had been parked against a deserted sidewalk. A singular lamppost was the only thing that lit up the area around the truck.

He didn’t realize how dark it was until now. The inside of the truck was swallowed in darkness, the only thing that lit up the inside of the vehicle were the lights that illuminated all the buttons and functions for the car with a faint orange glow. The rain was muffled, but they hammered against the truck continuously, as though it was trying to break through the vehicle.

“I’m sorry.” Chase whispered again, “I know you trusted me with it. I know it was important. I’m sorry.”

Deacon didn’t say anything, and Chase’s felt like a storm was raging in him, clawing its way through his chest, gathering bits of debris and paneling. He felt something begin to prickle in his eyes, he wanted to go home, he couldn’t do this, he can’t—

“Stop, don’t… Don’t make that face.”

Chase sniffled, his eyes glued outside the window, watching nothing in particular, “What face?”

He heard Deacon run his hands through his hair, “Just—That face, that face you make when you start blaming yourself for something, or overthinking, just—you make that face when something bad happens, and you think you’re the reason for it.”

“But I am,” Don’t cry, “I am, Deacon. I lost the diary; I lost the one thing that could lead us to Buddy. Everything we worked for, everything we risked, it was… It was all for nothing, all because I couldn’t even use common logic.”

Deacon didn’t say anything, probably because he agreed. Because Chase was stupid, so stupidly stupid for pulling on his bag, the one thing Buddy had left for him. The one thing that still smelled like him, and Chase destroyed it. Not only that, but Chase lost the key to their reunion.

“Not everything.”

… What?

Chase turned to his cousin; his eyes were squinted as he tried to read Deacon’s face. He didn’t understand, “What do you mean?”

Deacon scrunched his eyes closed for a second, he took in a deep breath and opened them, “Please don’t get mad.”

Chase watched Deacon unclick his seatbelt and twist his body around as he leaned over to the backseat. He heard some shuffling, then something, presumably Deacon’s backpack, was unzipped before Deacon shuffled through the bag.

When he found what he was looking for, he pulled back and out of the backseat, and held out an old book, the cover almost looked like it was made from leather.

Chase scrunched his nose, confused by his cousin’s nerves. Deacon only motioned for Chase to take the book, and he complied. The cover was torn, and it felt like the diary, he opened it up to a random page, and two familiar names instantly stood out.

Evrarad and Mathilda are absolutely delighted by the news, and even more so for the trip.

Evrarad and Mathilda…

The man’s oldest son and youngest daughter respectively, that’s what Chase remembered reading...

“Deacon… Where, how, when—”

“I found it,” Deacon groaned, which caused Chase to look up at him, “After you read the diary again. I only got to read a bit of it, but—”

“Deacon,” Chase’s voice lifted, “Holy carp, Deacon, you found another one?! They had a cop—”

“No, Chase let me finish.” Deacon pointed to the diary, “That is not the same diary as the one you found. This is another one, it looks like it was written before they found the keys.”

Oh…

“And when they found the keys.”

OH!?

“No way,” Chase flipped through more pages, searching for any indication of the event. “No way, Dorkin, that’s probably even more useful than the one I found!”

Deacon scrunched his face, and something uncomfortable filled Chase’s chest. “What?” Chase asked, “What’s with that face?”

Deacon’s eyes went wide, and his gaze darted around the truck, “What face?”

“Deacon Everett Hollow, I am seriously not in the mood for that right now.”

Deacon let out an exasperated sigh and ran his hand through his hair, the motion pulled his hair back with some strands peeking out between the spaces of his fingers. “It’s just, half of the diary looks like it’s written in another language. And… The other one had blueprints for the castle…”

“Oh…”

“I’m sure it’s fine though!” Deacon said quickly and waved his hands, “We can manage without it! All that matters is that it gave a location to the island.”

Chase glanced at the clock in the car.

4:52 AM

He sighed while he rubbed his hands against his face, “God, it’s late.”

Deacon glanced at the time and cringed, “We should head back to the hotel.”

Something uncomfortable filled Chase’s chest, “But what if—”

“If someone’s following us, I think they would have cornered us by now.” Deacon motioned for Chase to put on his seatbelt and the younger cousin listened, “Besides,” Deacon went on, “I got us an early check-out, so we’ll be able to leave at around 6:30, and it’ll take us roughly ten minutes to get there.” He put the truck back into drive, the rain continued to pour against the vehicle, “So, it should be enough time for us to talk about everything and,” Deacon sighed, “At least try to rest.”

Deacon pulled the truck out of the parking spot and began to make their way back to the hotel. Chase scanned most of the pages, before an unfamiliar name caught his eye.

            Arthur invited my family and I to join his on a trip! He speaks of an undiscovered island he found during one of his expeditions. He said it is growing with beautiful, lush plants, golden flowers, and crystal blue lakes and waterfalls. Truly, it sounds as though something only a dream could create!
            We shall set off a week from today. Adeline has already begun to pack the children’s belongings. As dutiful as always, I always knew she was the perfect choice of a wife.
            Evrarad and Mathilda are absolutely delighted for the news, and even more so for the trip. He spoke to his sister of the tree’s that inhabited islands, their fruits, and even informed her of the possible mystery an undiscovered land could hold. He vowed to play in the sand with her, feed the birds, and so much more.
            Such a wonderful elder brother, and a perfect eldest son of mine. Though he loves all the children deeply, it is clear he holds a dear affection for Mathilda. I cannot help but to believe it is due to her being his youngest sister, he holds more time with her than he does with the others. Truly, he will make a wonderful father when the time comes.
            We have also invited Katherine, Marguerite, and Jehanne, along with their respective husbands and children. Adeline hopes Jehanne will bring bearing good news, I hope too. She married so late; it will be worrying if she isn’t with child soon. The village already talks of her late marriage. Hopefully she understands just how important it is to us that she is with child sooner rather than later.
            Margo is eager to marry, though, she has yet to begin her courses, we must remind her that she must be patient.
            Speaking of marriage, I have spoken to Evrarad about when he will marry. His response was that he does not believe he is ready yet for such a commitment. Which I do not mind, how he chooses to interact with the woman and spinsters who throw themselves at him is none of my concern. The boy is only nineteen and unmarried, I was once young too, it is the only time in our constricting lives we can be free. So long as he does not sully our family name, all will be fine.
Truthfully, I hope he chooses Jean’s younger sister, Isabel, for a wife, though she is a little old at sixteen. But I feel with that age, she has grown into a wonderful young woman who embodies what it means to be a lady. While I doubted her parent’s decision to withhold her from marriage for a few years, I can now see the benefits it provided. Isabel would be the perfect choice as the woman to carry the future of our lineage.
            She will be become a d’Ombrage, I will make sure of it. Perhaps, we shall invite her on our trip, with Jean as her chaperone.
            This trip will produce wonder results, I know it will.

            -Marquis

“Marquis…” Chase whispered the name as he ran his fingers on the faded ink.

“You think it’s the same guy who wrote the other ones?” Chase asked, Deacon glanced at his cousin for a moment before his attention returned to the road.

“It must be. The same names from the other one are mentioned here, and a couple more.”

Chase scoffed, “Yeah, too many. This dude had too many kids and was obsessed about marriages.”

“That’s just—”

“Yeah-yeah, that’s how it was back then or whatever. Look, Dorkin, no person in their right mind would talk about weddings and being married as much as this nutjob does.”

“I’m surprised most of them made it that far. The reason people had so many kids back then was because most would die in infancy.”

Something sad stirred in Chase, “That’s awful.”

Deacon nodded sadly, “It was, it was something that they were forced to face as normal.”

The cousins fell into silence once more, the rain being the only thing that filled their ears and cut through the silence.

“I’m not saying it was okay, Chase, it wasn’t. Not everyone agreed with Marquis’s decision, I can tell you that much. But at the same time, people were forced to make decisions they didn’t want to make. I’m not saying that has anything to do with getting married, I just mean in general.”

“I didn’t think of it that way…”

“It makes sense that you did though, he did something awful to his daughters. It was the only thing you could focus on. I’m not trying to defend him, I just… I don’t know.”

“No, it’s okay, I get it.”

Because he did, he truly did understand what Deacon was trying to say. He could tell just from his cousin’s tone that he was not trying to defend this old man. (Because even if this ‘old man’ was in his early twenties when he wrote this, which Chase doubted, Chase refused to give him the privilege of being called young.)

Chase flipped through some more pages, “You said this was written when they found the keys, right? Where is that?”

Deacon thought for a moment, “It was… Well, what entry did you just read?”

“He talked about going on a trip to an island.”

“Then you’re close, I remember it was a few pages after that. I can help if we get to a red light, or I can park to the side?”

Chase shook his head, “No it’s okay, I’ll find it. I don’t want us to stay still for any longer.”

Deacon nodded and returned his eyes to the road while Chase began to flip through a few more pages. He scanned every page, until he found the one.

We have stumbled upon something that must have been a gift from God Himself! He must have blessed me after all the misfortune and hardships that has befallen my family and me.
            Mathilda and Evrarad… I always knew there was something special about those two. But especially Mathilda, for she was the one who stumbled upon this glorious gift!
            She recounted the events for me, Evrarad had suggested the idea to play hide-and-go-seek as a means to entertain Olivier and Michelet. Mathilda informed me that she and Colette joined to make the game more exciting for the boys. Evrarad began counting, and the other children scattered, Mathilda told me she ran into the forest. A decision I do not quite agree with, this is uncharted territory, we have no clue what dangerous could be lurking behind those trees. I shall have to speak to her about that later, nevertheless, had it not been for that simple decision, we may have not stumbled about this gift.
            She said, “I hid behind a tree with such a thick trunk that even if Evrarad found the tree, I would simply have to circle around it until he grew bored and continued searching elsewhere!” Such a clever girl, just like her father! Though, she will have to learn to control such clever thoughts until she gives her future husband a son. Then, she may share them with my grandson so he can grow to be just as, if not more, clever than his mother. She said she hid there for quite a while, before she heard something rustling. She thought it was her brother at first, but then she heard a noise akin to whispering coming from behind her. She followed the noise, a perhaps foolish decision, but now I cannot help but to believe it was fate itself. She fell deeper into the forest, and behind a thick layer of leaves and bushes, there they were.
            Twelve tiny people made of various metals, each with a strange symbol on their back. Though some I recognized, for one had a symbol of an apple on his back. Mathilda informed Evrarad, who informed me of this blessing. Mathilda and Evrarad led me to them, and though these tiny blessings appeared to be frightened, I know they hold my family’s destiny. That fear will soon disappear, for they are a gift, and there is nothing they should be afraid of.

Chase continued to read on, Marquis slowly discovered the same information he and Deacon already knew. Like the keys holding the ability to go into books, the roles they took on, the narratonion and their healing properties.

And their ability to grant wishes.

Through all those name drops of, what he assumed were, Marquis’s other children, one name stood out to him.

“Mathilda…” Chase whispered as he brushed his fingers against the name, “She found the keys. She’s the youngest, right?”

Deacon shook his head, “No, he had two more sons after her. But she was his youngest daughter.”

Chase waved his hand, “Same difference.”

“Not really, as a woman, she didn’t have—”

Chase shot his cousin a look that said if he uttered one more word, Chase would smother him in his sleep.

“Sorry,” Deacon raised his shoulders, “I’ll stop.”

“Please.”

Mathilda, the name whispered in his head like a soft prayer. She was the one who found the keys, she discovered them. But didn’t Silver say Ex-Libris created them? What did this family have to do with Ex-Libris?

“Mathilda, and Evrarad… He mentions them a lot. Especially Mathilda…”

Deacon glanced at Chase for a moment before his gaze returned to the road, “Yeah…”

Chase stared at the girl’s name, and he wondered if she too, believed the keys were a blessing onto her family.

Chapter Text

“He obviously had favorites.” Chase began once they entered their hotel room and locked the door. He set his ripped bag on the bed next to the journals he had thankfully dumped out before their break-in. He took a seat next to the bag, allowing his body to sink into the mattress. “Mathilda and Evrarad especially.”

“I think he had two more kids, and since he said Mathilda was his youngest daughter, they must have been boys.”

Chase nodded, “Yeah…”

Chase looked up to the ceiling and allowed gravity to take control of him. His body fell backwards with a thump and onto the bed. It was soft and warm, and more than anything, he wanted to curl up and sleep. But he couldn’t, not yet.

“None of this tells us anything about Buddy or the island. At least, not in the way we need it to…”

It was true, they had learned so much. They learned who found the keys, and that itself didn’t even make sense because didn’t Ex-Libris create the keys? They learned about a whole family, but what did that have to do with some cult-like group? Where did this all begin, and where did it all end? How did a little girl finding a family of keys lead to such a dangerous organization being formed? How did it lead to Buddy being born on an island, never knowing a mother and father’s love?

How did a little girl who was sold off by her father connect to all of this? Or her sister playing hide and seek?

How did this family plant the seeds for such a horrible tragedy?

“Why wouldn’t Silver tell us?”

The confession was so quiet, Chase wondered if Deacon had even heard him. It was a thought, no, a truth that had been plaguing the back of Chase’s mind the whole night. Such important details… Why wouldn’t Silver tell them any of it?

Deacon only shrugged, “I don’t know, Chase. They’ve been alive for so long, maybe they don’t even remember… Or maybe it’s too painful to remember.” Silence filled the room, Chase… Didn’t know how he felt about that statement. Not because he didn’t trust Silver, but because he couldn’t stand the thought of Silver facing such horrible memories.

“Do you think she lied to us?”

He heard Deacon freeze, “What?”

“Silver,” Chase answered, “Do you think she lied to us?”

Chase heard something shift around, “About what?”

“About their creation, how they were born, made, whatever. She told me that Ex-Libris created them. But Marquis wrote that Mathilda found them, that doesn’t make any sense.”

She had… Sort of done it before, no, it wasn’t so much lying, as it was withholding the truth. When she didn’t tell him that they needed all twelve keys to make a wish, but still, Chase didn’t, she couldn’t…

“… Do you think she lied to us?”

Did he? Did he think Silver purposely lied to them?

“No.” Chase said, “I don’t think she lied to us. But then… Why would we have two different people saying different things? Why would Silver tell us they were created by them and not found by them?”

“I… I don’t know, Chase. I really don’t, but I’ve been thinking about it too, it doesn’t make sense.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Deacon continued as he flipped through some pages, “I’m surprised it’s even legible. But from the handwriting, it might have been medieval times? Maybe even early modern Europe.”

Chase propped himself up on the bed with his elbows, “Which is…?”

“17^th Century, maybe? The sixteen-hundreds, he wrote it down somewhere on one of the entries.” Deacon flipped through some pages, “Ah, see!”

            8 September 1645

“Wow,” Chase whistled, “That’s… A long time ago.”

Deacon nodded, “It is…”

Chase slid off the bed and onto the floor crossing his legs. He reached over and grabbed Deacon’s journal and began to flip through it. Reviewing the notes Deacon had taken while they were at the library.

None of the information written down really made sense to him. But Chase didn’t know if it was because it was too complicated to understand, or if it was from sleep deprivation… Or both. Actually, both seemed very likely.

“Did you learn about anything else while we were at the library?”

The gears in Deacon’s head seamed to click, like a lightbulb lighting up his memory. “Right! The filing cabinets!”

Deacon leaned over to grab his backpack, but he was too far away from it. Chase reached over and tossed it to his cousin, who thanked him and unzipped it open. “Each of the cabinets were labeled with names.”

Chase wondered if this was how Deacon felt when he said something stupid, “Yeah dude, that’s… Kind of how filing cabinets work.”

Deacon looked as though contemplating murder, “I have half the mind to throw this backpack at you right now.”

“Do it! You won’t!” Chase exclaimed instinctively from years of friendly bickering.

An exhausted cackle had just barely left Chase’s mouth when a water bottle slapped him in the face. Chase let out a noise akin to a chicken bawking at the sudden pain.

“Dude! What the heck!?”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t look sorry.”

“You’re right, I’m not. Anyway, as I was saying—”

“Dude you are not just changing the topic—”

“Chase, this is really important.” For the first time that night since the library, Deacon raised his voice. “I don’t have the patience for this.” He sighed and his face and voice softened, “I am sorry, I am. I shouldn’t have done that, I’m tired and I want to go to bed badly. But this is important, and if we finish this quickly, we might be able to squeeze in a nap, okay?”

Chase nodded, “Okay. Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, I know you’re just trying to lighten the mood.”

Chase blinked; he tried to force his eyes to stay open. “What did you find? You said something about names?”

Deacon nodded, “The cabinets had names on them. I checked some of them, and they were filled.” He pulled out pieces of paper, some had that bright white coloring, like the stacks of printer paper you get at stores. Others were browned, wrinkled and stained, as though they were…

Oh my God.

“Are those…?” Chase pointed at the stained papers, and Deacon nodded.

“Yes, they’re from when they found the keys.” Deacon spread the papers out on the floor, and then leaned closer to his cousin, “Chase, those cabinets had documentations of people’s entire lives. Those names on the labels? That was the name of those people!” He picked up a small stack of one of the older papers and handed them over to Chase. Who held it gently, terrified one wrong touch would shred the entire thing. “Those are a few pages I was able to snatch about Evrarad. Though, they don’t reveal much information regarding the keys or the island.”

Chase scanned each page, some were written like notes, others like full on diary entries like Evrarad’s father wrote. He squinted at the papers, the letters looked like English letters, but not even one formed an English word Chase knew.

“These are in a different language. Hey, didn’t you say some of the diary was written in another language?”

“Yeah,” Deacon held a page and looked at the back of it, scanning its contents. “It’s because it’s medieval language, or whatever period they were from. Even if it was English, we wouldn’t be able to understand it that well. They spoke languages differently back then, regardless of what language it was.”

That made sense, Chase remembered his history teachers talking about that every year. But something about the comment made something uneasy swirl in Chase’s stomach. He didn’t know why, or what the source behind it was. Chase looked up at the ceiling, drawing shapes in his head over the popcorn texture of the ceiling.

His eyes fell and landed on the diary, resting peacefully next to his cousin.

Then it clicked.

“Deacon…”

“Yeah?” The brunette responded, not looking up from the papers.

“You said that even if they were written in English, we wouldn’t be able to understand them, right?”

“Yes?” Deacon sounded a little annoyed.

“Then why can we understand the diaries?”

Deacon froze; the page he held almost fell out of his hands. A second passed, then another, a third, a fourth, and then Deacon’s head slowly turned to the diary. It’s brown faded leather cover, torn pages, and secrets it held.

In an instant, the diary warped from a key to unlocking and solving all their troubles, to a dangerous foreign creature. They stared at the object as though it had fallen from the sky and was glowing a bright alien green.

“I… I don’t know.”

—

Chase tapped his finger against the wheel, his eyes focused on the road. Only taking it off briefly to glance at the GPS and grab his (technically) second energy drink of the day. In the passenger seat was Deacon, his head leaned against the window, eyes closed as he breathed softly. His chest slowly rose and fell, his jacket had been taken off and was draped around him like a blanket.

Something buzzed, and Chase knew it was Deacon’s phone. He wondered if it was Harley responding to the flood of apology messages Deacon had sent her. He turned up the volume to the radio, the song that was playing was gentle. Not enough to lull him to sleep, but enough to give him a false sense of safety and lighten his headache.

But his tensed arms and legs knew that the comfort the song brought was surface level.

They didn’t understand most of the documents under Evrarad’s file, or anyone’s for that matter. But Deacon was able to find a sketchy website that roughly translated medieval languages into modern day language. But of course, most of the translations were a bunch of nonsense. It was obvious that the translator was meant to mainly be used to translate modern day English or whatever language, to medieval English. But if they understood some parts correctly, they were able to find out some details.

It was… Something, Chase felt bad for the guy but… It was nothing that could help them find the island or Buddy.

They went over other pages as well, but they decided it would be best to review all the information once they got home. There was so much, and yet, nothing at all. Nothing that brought them closer to Nox, nothing that brought them closer to the island.

Well… There was one thing. Some sketches of what Chase assumed was the island. It wasn’t much but… It was better than nothing.

But of everything, Chase kept thinking about Mathilda, the little girl, the one who “inherited” Silver’s key, the one who found the keys. Chase wasn’t sure why he kept thinking about her, he just did. He didn’t even know what the kid looked like, yet it was almost like her face was appearing in his mind.

Maybe Mathilda was the one who created them? No, wait, that’s stupid, she was, God, Chase didn’t even know how old she was. But she was nine when Colette got married (he hoped he got the poor kid’s name right), and that was after they found the keys. So yeah, she was a child child, there was no way she made the keys… Maybe. Maybe? Yeah, maybe.

… God, he needed to sleep.

But Mathilda… He wondered what her life was like, he wondered if she was happy. Marquis clearly gave her a lot of slack, but still, to have a parent like that? It must have been hard for her, he wondered if she felt lonely, he wondered if she even wanted to get married. What did she think of the keys? Of the island? Of her father? Of, well, everything.

Was she close with Silver? Did they have a close bond like the one he had with Silver? Silver was such a kind and loving person, though he didn’t know anything about Mathilda, he couldn’t help but wonder if Silver loved her. Though Silver seemed to love everyone, that didn’t mean she loved everyone the same way. Silver loved in different shades of color, but no matter the tone, she loved deeply, and wholeheartedly.

Things sounded… Different in those early days, Chase wondered if the keys were allowed more freedom, then they were more recently. It sounded like it, and if it was true, then maybe Mathilda and Silver had spent more time with one another?

But… If Mathilda was someone important to Silver… Why did Silver never bring her up? She had spoken about other Ex-Libris members in the past, even if something as a simple joke reminded her of someone, she spoke of them.

But not Mathilda, Chase had never even heard or read the name “Mathilda” before, he had heard the name “Matilda” before (his mom loved a movie titled after the same name). But he had never even known the name could be spelt with an ‘h’.

Just what could have happened to Silver to never bring up Mathilda, her second keyholder, and the girl who found them?

… Or maybe, what could have happened to Mathilda for Silver to never mention her.

—

Chase had no idea how he was able to drive them home and not crash Ralph’s truck.

Okay that sounds bad, but he swore it wasn’t! He didn’t start feeling sleepy until after driving for two hours!

… Okay that still sounds bad, but the point is he didn’t crash the truck!

Deacon had called their grandfather about a block away from home, so Ralph was already standing at the driveway waiting when they pulled in. His arms crossed while Iron, the Justice key, Ralph’s key, stood on his shoulder. A hand rested on Ralph’s neck for support, a small habit the two had formed, one Ralph didn’t mind at all.

Chase waved his hand, and he saw his grandfather’s eyebrows scrunched with worry. Chase’s hand crumbled closed as though he was burned by fire. He wanted to sigh, he should have known Ralph would immediately know something was wrong. He was just able to read people like that, his dad once told him it was the result of being in the army.

He could see right through people, and he could read his family like the back of his hand. It’s how he learned about the keys after all. Though, Chase was also a tiiiiny bit smug and proud of himself for how long he was able to keep it hidden from his grandfather.

Deacon was the first to get out of the truck, closing the door with a loud slam. “Hi grandpa, hi Iron.” He said as he slinged the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. “We’re back.”

Chase hopped out of the truck, and grabbed his things form the backseat, “Hi grandpa.”

Ralph scrunched his nose, “How long did you boys sleep?”

God damn it.

“Uh… Enough? We need to talk about a lot of stuff, I’ll call Mrs. G and Prunell—” Chase tried to walk past his grandpa but failed once Ralph held out a hand on Chase’s shoulder.

“You boys need to sleep.” His face was soft but scrunched with an almost sickening look of worry.

“But—no!” Chase protested, “Grandpa, we learned so much! And we need to talk about it now!”

“That can wait, Chase. Whatever you learned will still be there when you boys wake up.”

Chase shook his head, his hands shook aggressively, “No! No, it can’t! The longer we wait, the longer we don’t know what’s happening to Nox! Grandpa, please!” His hands clutched themselves into fists, as though it could help convince his grandfather’s mind.

“Charlie,” The sternness in his voice that was always there, the rough edges of a man who had seen war, was gone. In its place, there was something soft, something kind, fatherly and caring. He gently placed his hands onto Chase’s shoulders, it’s warmth comforting.

Chase never said it, but Ralph’s hugs and hands felt exactly like his father’s.

“Neither of you can do much if you’re tired. I know you want to get Nox as soon as possible, I do too. But the only one holding themself back is you, you need to rest.”

Iron nodded, “Your grandfather’s right, Chase. You need to rest before it impacts your health.”

“But—” Chase interjected only for Ralph to cross his arms.

“Don’t make me bring Silver out.”

Chase all but falters when he heard those words, he could never say no to Silver, and his grandfather knew that.

“But—” One last attempt, one tiny, pathetic last attempt to try. But Ralph only shook his head.

“Both of you go inside and sleep, now. We can all talk about it later, okay?”

No, not okay, not at all. “Okay.”

Chase practically dragged himself to the door, up the stairs, and into his room. He greeted Silver, though, he couldn’t remember what he had said to her, nor what she said to him in return. He threw off his shoes and flopped onto the bed.

A sigh was released from him as his body sank into the mattress. The sheets were cold, but it was comforting, his hair sprayed out on the pillows, and his eyes started to drift close.

His mind returned to a certain black-haired boy, his smile and blue eyes. The way his hand felt and how perfectly it fit into Chase’s, as though their hands were carved for one another. The scars on the palms from what Chase knew were years of abuse from Ex-Libris. His hair and how soft it was when Chase ran his hand through it.

Chase held a pillow close to his heart, and pretended it was Buddy. But even amidst his fading thoughts and slip into unconsciousness, he knew it was not him.

Because nothing could ever come close to the existence of Buddy. No matter how hard Chase tried to pretend otherwise.

Chapter Text

“… Se?”

“… Ase?”

“… Chase?”

Chase’s eyes fluttered open softly, light filled his vision, it warmed his skin. His eyes were met with a bright blue sky and pure white fluffy clouds. Wind blew against him; the sound filled his ears, and he felt grass and flowers lightly brush against his face and arms.

Whatever this was, it was peaceful, calming, and alluring. It felt like his mom’s hugs, the way she would sing him to sleep.

Chase closed his eyes and rolled over to his side, he rested his head on his arms and adjusted his body to a more comfortable position. He wanted to sleep just a moment longer, but a light chuckle interrupted that attempt at sleep.

“Chase?” There was a smile in that voice, and that voice… Chase knew this voice. It was…

His eyes shot open, right in front of him, was Buddy. His light blue eyes soft and kind, his face was relaxed, and he looked at Chase with such adoration that Chase felt he would combust. What had he done to deserve such love? For the world to look at him and declare that he deserved to be loved as deeply as the man in front of him did.

Nox smiled when their gazes met, his eyes crinkled at the motion, every bit of it engulfed with love and happiness.

“Hi.” Nox whispered, happiness littered his voice.

Chase pushed down a whisper in his head, he wanted to take this moment in, wanted to live in it for just a tiny bit, “Hi…” He whispered back, a smile growing back on his lips.

“You were asleep for a while,” Nox said, “Were you up late trying to win Alistair merchandise again?”

“No! And if I was it would be worth it!”

Nox snickered, “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious, Buddy!” Chase sat up and Buddy wordlessly followed him, his hands moved in wild directions, “He just announced that he’s collaborating with this skin care brand, and I checked out the ingredients list and it’s all stuff that is actually good for your skin! All the stuff in it is stuff I use all the time!! It’s perfect!!”

Buddy smiled as he made a face Chase couldn’t read, “I’ll never understand you, and your obsession with putting all those chemicals on your skin.”

“It’s not chemicals, its natural! And you wouldn’t get it because you have perfect skin all the time.”

Buddy sighed dreamily, “I can’t help it, some of us are just born perfect.”

Chase leaned over, “Like me?”

Nox turned to Chase, and looked him up and down, he looked unimpressed, though, that smile he always had when he teased Chase was on his lips, “I guess.”

Chase gasped and pulled away, “You GUESS?!”

Buddy snickered, “Yeah, I guess.”

“You did not just imply that the love of your life is ‘perfect, I guess’!”

Buddy tilted his head and fluttered his eyes half closed, an act that always turned Chase into nothing more than a puddle, “What? Is the prince not happy with that response? What would he like me to call him then?”

“I—uh—y-you—”

Wow, good one Chase. Good job, real attractive and smooth.

Nox leaned closer, and Chase felt his heart hammer against his chest, his eyes fluttered closed, and Chase slapped a hand over Nox’s mouth.

“You are NOT going to try to kiss me after implying that I am not perfect!”

Through his hands, a muffled laugh emerged, one Chase loved hearing. Wait, no! He’s supposed to be mad! Stupid Buddy, and his stupid laugh!!

Nox carefully reached for Chase’s hand, and pulled it off his lips, he slowly slipped his hands into Chase’s palms. He leaned closer, and rested his forehead on Chase’s, “You are right. You are perfect, from your hair to your eyes, to your hands, to your lips. From the way you laugh and smile, to the kindness you show to everyone. You are perfect in every way, shape, and form.” His hand slowly climbed its way through Chase, he wreathed their fingers together, and squeezed Chase’s hands gently, “And I love every part of you.”

Something stirred in Chase, and he felt something wet prickle its way through his eyes, he leaned into Buddy, “I love every part of you too.” He laughed dryly, “Sorry, that sounds so lame compared to what you said.”

Nox squeezed his hand a little tighter, “There’s nothing you could ever say or do that is lame.”

Oh, Nox… This was…

Torture.

“I’ve missed you… So much.”

Nox smiled, “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

The world shattered, and reality seeped through its cracks.

Chase pulled away, he planted his hands on the grass, it was soft and pushed himself up and onto his feet. He took one step, then a second, and a third, and every single step felt painful. Like nails stabbing into his feet, like he was leaving his heart behind.

“Chase?”

He stopped; his vision became blurry as something wet threatened to spill out. How he missed hearing that voice call his name. Those eyes looking at him, those lips smiling at him, those hands running through his hair, holding onto him.

He missed everything about Buddy.

But that was exactly it, wasn’t it? He missed Buddy, because Buddy wasn’t here. He hadn’t been in almost three weeks.

“This isn’t real, is it?”

Buddy’s eyes widened, his lips fell apart ever so slightly, pale but with a hint of a rose-colored red. He pushed his lips together, his eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes scrunched, his lips turned into a small smile that overflowed with yearning. In a slow motion, he looked down and shook his head sideways.

The wind picked up in strength, it blew at Chase, his arms flew up to cover his face. The flowers were ripped from the ground, thrown into the air and carried away to whatever fate awaited them.

Chase was no fool, he may not be as intelligent as others liked, but he was no fool. He knew this was not his Buddy. This was a Buddy, but it wasn’t his.

He wanted it to be his though.

“You can make it real. You don’t have to wake up.”

Chase laughed dryly, “I’m pretty sure that’s not how sleep works. That’s a coma, and unless I’ve been hit on the head, I doubt I’m in a coma.”

Dream-Nox laughed lightly, “That is true, and no, you are not in a coma. So, I guess you do have to wake up in a while. But you don’t have to do that now.”

Chase knew that was true, he was, what was the word again? Deacon told him about it once, lucid dreaming he thinks, where he had control over himself in his dreams.

He could stay here with this version of Buddy, stay in his arms for a while longer. Lay in this grass and sleep while the sun warms them. He could stay here, if just for a moment longer. Pretend not to see the cold truth that has plagued his mind for almost a month. It would just be sleeping; it was not like he would be ignoring Nox, he needed to rest anyway, he knew he did.

And yet…

“I can’t,” Chase whispered, “Because it’s not real.” Chase looked at the boy in front of him, “I’d rather grieve in reality, than live a lie in a dream.”

The boy’s eyes widened, then they relaxed, a smile grew on his face, “Very well.”

Chase shot up from his bed, his chest rose and fell rapidly as his breath escaped and entered his body so quickly his head became light. His chest felt hollow, yet he felt like he was drowning, doomed to sink even further into the dark abyss of the ocean. He grabbed his shirt, the fabric bunched up in his fists because he felt like it was the only way to get a hold of his heart. His vision blurred, something wet prickled through his eyes, he couldn’t be loud, Silver might still be asleep. He didn’t want to wake her up. He thought he didn’t, at least, he wasn’t sure. Because there was a part of him that wanted her to notice, to run to him and—

“Chase?”

His eyes flew up, and there, standing in the doorframe, was Deacon. Wearing only his button up shirt with no sweater vest, his hair was uncombed and disheveled. In his arms was the jacket Chase had lent him to the library yesterday morning.

A sound riddled with grief escaped Chase’s mouth. He leaned over, footsteps loud and grew closer as the pain built up in Chase’s chest. He took in a deep breath, and someone wrapped their arms around him tightly and pulled his head into their shoulder.

Someone rubbed his back, and a wave crashed into Chase’s body. A tear slipped from his eye, and something bundled and grew in his throat. Forcing its way up and through him until—

—

Chase rubbed his eyes as Deacon brought out his bag, placing the diary on the table along with the same files he had presented to Chase just hours before. Prunella and Agatha were now visiting, the younger girl sitting crisscross on the floor, talking to Goldie who was rested on her shoulder. Agatha returned from the kitchen, bringing a small tray of cups filled with tea and a few sliced pieces of fruit.

The other keys were lingering around on the coffee table in the living room. Sapphire, the Mentor Key, was carefully stacking some books over one another with the help of Ruby, the Monarch key. Sapphire had always been peculiar about the organization of things; in a way Chase didn’t quite understand but reminded him of Deacon. Rose, the Lover Key, had slipped one of the books out of the pile, a pirate romance novel that had to have fallen out of Deacon’s collection at some point.

This resulted in quite the conflict, as Silver and Jade, who was the Mage Key, and the key Agatha always used for stories, had to interfere. Goldie, who couldn’t stand the sight of his beloved siblings arguing, slid down Prunella’s arm. He stumbled a bit once he hit the ground, but other than that his landing was perfect. The golden key ran over to his siblings and placed himself between them. Not that there was any need to, their small arguments were just exactly that; small, and they never escalated to anything beyond the ever so slight rise of their voices that did not qualify to be a yell.

“Alright, we’re all here now.” Ralph said as he took a seat on the couch. “Are you boys ready?”

Chase looked at his cousin, who nodded, “We’re ready.”

Chase picked up the diary and held it up, “This, is a diary written by a man named Mar… Marques d… d’Ombre—”

“Marquis d’Ombrage.”

“OKAY DORKIN, well, you know that I struggle to… Say words.”

“I know, Chase.”

“Anyway!” Chase began as he grabbed the wheels of this conversation and tried to steer it back on course, “What I’m trying to say, is that the man who wrote this, is from the family that found the keys. Because by the way, a family found the keys.”

He threw the diary back onto the table, albeit gently because he didn’t want to risk ruining it, “We think this might have the key to finding the island.”

“Not to mention,” Deacon pointed a finger, “We think the family in this diary are the origins to Ex-Libris.”

Ralph picked up the journal and thumbed through a few pages, his eyes widened at certain entries.

“And they just… Had this lying around? They let you check it out.”

Uh.

Oops.

“Well, not exactly.” Chase began as a nervous laugh escaped. Ralph raised an eyebrow at his two grandsons.

“And what does that mean exactly?”

“It was uhm,” Chase lowered his voice, “It was locked in a room patrons weren’t allowed in…”

“What was that?” His voice was a bit stern now, and Chase began to sweat bullets.

“We may or may not have committed breaking and entering…”

“Speak up, Charlie!”

“WE BROKE IN—” Deacon yelled which caused even the keys to jump ever so slightly.

Chase elbowed his cousin in the ribs, “Dude!”

Deacon might have lost his mind, absolutely gone bonkers, because for some reason this absolute BAFOON continues to speak. So much so, that he might as well be helping Ralph plan their actual funeral, “We’re so sorry, grandpa! But there was no other way in there! Patrons weren’t allowed inside, and, well, we didn’t actually know what was in there. But Chase wanted to get in badly and—”

“Might as well park the bus in front of me and put it into reverse while you’re talking!”

“—And then we found a diary, but not that one. Chase found another one, but he lost it when we got chased by someone and—”

“Wait, okay, okay.” Ralph held his hands up, he gently pushed them forward and backwards, “Slow down, you’re talking too fast, Deacon. I need you to take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”

And they did just that, they told them everything. About Ana, Akira, Harley, and Scarlet (though, Deacon left out the part where he got Harley’s number and refused to let Chase say anything about it.), about how the library didn’t use technology, about Harley helping them break in. And about how old the office and archives room looked. The filing cabinets that lined the walls, the tall elegant stained-glass windows, and the bookshelves. About the stalker that came in searching for them, about how they chased them into the forest and the boys had to climb trees to escape, about Chase learning he lost a diary, and Deacon revealing he found another one. The one their grandfather now held in his hands.

“Oh my God,” Mrs. G’s hands went to her mouth, “Are you boys, okay? No wonder Ralph told me that you both looked exhausted. You two should sleep more, it was only three hours—”

“And it was long enough, please, let’s just continue this. Grandpa?”

Chase turned to his grandfather, who flipped through more pages of the diary. Chase watched as his grandfather scanned different pages, no doubt reading them, when he finally closed it, his eyes looked dark.

“You boys stole from a library?” He sounded angry, there was no way he was still hung up about that, are you serious?

Chase fought back, “We had to!” He didn’t mean to yell, but his words came out that way, “We weren’t planning to, but it had valuable information, and you already know that someone came in! We didn’t have a choice; we couldn’t just leave it there!”

“I understand that, but that was too dangerous. Not to mention you broke into someone else’s property!”

“What were we supposed to do then?! Just leave it there?! ‘Oh, look at this valuable piece of information regarding the cult that KIDNAPPED MY BOYFRIEND! I should just leave it here, I’m sure it’s nothing of importance!’ No! I’m not that stupid!”

Ralph pointed to Chase, his voice went rigid in a way that only someone from the military could do, “Don’t raise your voice at me, young man. And I didn’t say you were stupid, don’t ever call yourself that again.”

A part of Chase knew he should back down, but he couldn’t, he didn’t want to. There was this anger deep within him, it barred its teeth and snarled, it made him feel like he could explode at any moment. He felt like if he were to lose his awareness, even for just a moment, he would lose himself.

Chase clenched his hands together; this was so frustrating! Why couldn’t he just understand that they didn’t even have a choice?! They couldn’t just leave it behind. Why the hell is Chase having to be the one to argue about it? Deacon was the one who stole the diary his grandpa was holding, and NO the one he lost didn’t count!

“Yes! We stole private property! But that’s not the point!” Chase yelled as he snatched the diary form his grandfather’s hands, and slammed it down on the table, searching for the entry that spoke of Mathilda finding the keys. When he found it, he scanned the pages, before pointing out the exact paragraph that stated it, “Look! It talks about when they found the keys! And who found them! It was a family, and a little girl in the family was the one who found them! We have more information about the group, even if it’s just how it started!”

Had Chase regained control of himself, had he not let his emotions take over, he would have noticed how all the keys had gone frozen the moment the name ‘Marquis’ was said.

And how Silver had gone rigid like a statue, her eyes blank and staring into nothing.

“So no, don’t sit there, and tell me that I shouldn’t have gotten the diary! Because I did! Because I will do anything to get Buddy back!”

“That is not what I am saying Charlie—”

“It’s not?”

“—And do not speak to me that way!”

“Why?! Out of respect for you? To show respect?!”

“It’s more than that, Charles—”

“What is it then?! Love? Trust? Because it sure isn’t that! Because if you did trust me, you would have told me where Buddy was!”

Oh…

Oh…

He thought… He had moved passed that…

His lips pushed together, he didn’t want them to quiver, he didn’t want to cry. A sudden rush of guilt crashed into him, but he couldn’t tell if he felt guilty because he yelled at his grandfather, or because he still felt resentment towards him.

… Maybe it was both.

“If I may,” Mrs. G’s voice, calm and elegant, a tone only enhanced by her accent, interjected. Her eyebrows were scrunched with worry, but she held a nervous smile on her face. “Chase, I don’t think Ralph is mad at you. I think what he’s trying to say is that the whole situation was dangerous. You could have gotten hurt, or worse. We don’t know what these people are capable of, we don’t know what they would have done with you boys if you had gotten caught. There would have been no way for us to have known.”

Something awful swirled in Chase’s chest, and he tore his eyes away. He didn’t want to face this, he didn’t want to acknowledge it. But as he sobered up from his emotions, the reality of the past few moments began to hit him, and that strangling feeling of guilt only grew in strength.

“I understand you are upset, Ralph told me about… What happened between you and Deacon. And I know that just because you forgave Deacon, doesn’t mean you forgive us as well, I don’t expect you to. I understand you are hurt and betrayed, and you have every right to be, we kept something so important from you, you deserve to be angry.”

Chase braced himself for the next part that he knew would come.

“That said, you should not have taken your anger out on your grandfather like that. You’re old enough to realize that. You should have sat down with him, and both of you should have had an adult conversation about it.” She turned to Ralph, a determined look in her eyes, “And you, you know Chase is going through enough. I understand you were worried, I was too, especially when you told me they looked exhausted. But you should have taken a moment to think of how-to better word your thoughts.”

Ralph looked… Ashamed? Chase wasn’t sure, but he thought he did because he tilted his head down, and his eyes were cast downwards. “I am sorry, Agatha.”

“I am not the one who you should be apologizing to.”

“… I know.”

Chase looked away, his eyes darted everywhere, the sofa, Silver, though that one was a huge mistake because he saw her face, and he couldn’t really process that at this very moment, the pillows, Deacon’s hands, before his eyes landed on Agatha. He traced her hair, the waves on it as they rolled off her shoulders and down her back.

“Charles, I am sorry.”

Chase didn’t know what to say, he kept his eyes locked on Agatha. He knew he should say something, knew he should form words, something along the lines of ‘it’s okay’.

… But was it really okay? Was it? Chase knew what he did wasn’t okay, because Mrs. G was right, he shouldn’t have taken his emotions out like that. But even then… Was it really okay for him to just say that it was all okay? Did that even make sense? He wanted to forgive them, he really did, he wanted to forgive Ralph, Agatha, and Nox, like he… Kind of did with Deacon. He doesn’t want to be mad at them forever, he wants everything to go back to normal. He doesn’t want to be mad at them anymore. So logically, he should say that it was okay, so things could return to this façade of normality…

But he knew it wasn’t okay, not for him. Maybe the ruler of the universe who is always correct or whatever thought it was, but he didn’t. Chase couldn’t just turn around and say what they did was okay and then move on. He can tell them he understood their actions, that he understood why they did, but that he is still upset with them.

… God, it was so awful to be upset at someone you can’t even see or hold…

So, instead he just hummed. It was vague, its feelings hidden under a thin veil meant to guard his heart.

“Chase—” Agatha began, and Chase silently begged for her not to continue. His eyes still traced the strands of her hair.

“Let it go, Mrs. G.” That was grandpa’s voice, Chase knew it like the back of his hand. “Give him time…”

Chase saw Agatha’s eyes fly over to Ralph’s, then back to him. She looked away swiftly, unable to meet Chase’s eyes. There was something so… Filled with sorrow in them. No, it was more than sorrow, it was guilt, and shame.

“I am…” She began, still avoiding his eyes. She squished them close, then looked up at him, her green eyes met his hazel ones. That shame and guilt was still there, but there was something else there now, something Chase couldn’t quite read.

But somehow, he knew it wasn’t a bad thing.

“I am so sorry, that I didn’t tell you, Chase. I should have, even if Ralph, Deacon, and Nox told me not to. You had the right to know, and I am so sorry that I didn’t trust you enough to know. And I am… so sorry for making you feel like I didn’t trust you. I do, I do, Chase.”

She reached out, maybe to hold his hand, but she froze and retracted her hand. Chase glanced at her eyes, and there was nothing but guilt there.

“You don’t have to trust me, you have the right not to, and I understand if you don’t. But know that I trust you, you don’t have to believe me, but I will support you all the way. No matter what you do from this moment on.”

Chase’s eyes fell, he wanted to look at Ralph, he really did. But he couldn’t bring himself to, so instead, he simply stared at the bottom part of his nose.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice at you grandpa.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you as well.”

Chase shifted in his spot; he wasn’t sure what to say next. He couldn’t tell if the air was turning tense or awkward, and truthfully, both options were awful.

“Chase,” Oh God, no, please, “You mentioned something about a little girl and her family?” Oh, thank God. Well, the topic wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t about Chase’s resentment towards his family and friends.

“Oh, right.” He picked the diary back up, “This entry right here talks about how a little girl, Mathilda, found the keys.”

“But I thought Ex-Libris created them?” Ralph questioned, and Chase nodded.

“That’s what I thought too, but we didn’t get that far into it.” Chase answered, he turned to Silver and the keys, which, he also realized at that moment, was a really good name for a band, “Silver, do you know how Ex-Libris created you?”

Silver knocked her knuckles together in a jittered motion, “I—I’m not sure… I simply know that we all woke up one day on a beach, and they were all there, circling us.”

“When you say ‘they’, do you mean the d’Ombrage family?” Deacon asked, and Silver once again flinched, ever so slightly. It was so light that no one had seen it.

But Chase had seen it.

“Yes…” It took her a moment, but Silver managed to say it, “When we awoke into being, the family was there surrounding us. Master Marquis, and all his children.”

“Master?” Chase scrunched his nose in disgust and crossed his arms, “What, was the guy a prince?”

Deacon groaned, “If he was a prince, they would have called him ‘your highness’, and he was very clearly not a prince.”

“So, what he was a…” Chase lowered his voice for a moment as he leaned towards Agatha, “What’s lower than a prince?”

“Uh, a duke?”

“A DUKE! What, was the guy a duke? Mr. Dukey of Dukes was so high and mighty that he wanted to be called a… different… title or… something...?”

“… I cannot believe that we are related.”

“Apologies for the interruption,” The voice that spoke the words was elegant, formal, and shined in charisma. Ruby walked forward, their hands cupped one another and rested on their stomach. Chase had always liked Ruby’s outfit, they were the Monarch key after all, not the King Key, or the Queen Key, the Monarch key. And their outfit reflected that sentiment, rested on their head was a thin, but elegant crown. They wore simple pants and a buttoned shirt, but the coat they wore over it was long, and it fanned out in a way that reminded Chase of a queen in a ballroom. But their crown, and the shoulder pads reminded Chase of a king as well.

Truly, Chase had thought, there was no outfit better for a monarch.

“But Master Marquis was no duke, nor a prince,” Ruby continued, “Nor anything for that matter, at most, he may have been a Lord, but I do not recall him ever saying so. If they were of noble lineage, then they were quite poor for one.” Something slipped in Ruby’s face, but the moment it appeared, it went away, “But I digress, to our knowledge, he was no noble. Rather, those titles were ones he bestowed upon himself, and his family.”

“What a pretentious old man.”

“Chase!” Silver scolded, uh, oops, he didn’t mean for that to slip out! “You should never speak ill of the dead!”

“I will, fuck ‘em.” Holy CARP, Chase had never heard Iron say something like that with such a deadpan face.

“Chase! Stop laughing, you’ll just encourage him! Oh, Deacon, not you to!”

Chase wasn’t sure how long he was on the ground, holding his stomach from laughter. But it felt… Good. It felt good to laugh, even if that tinge of guilt and pain was still there. It reminded him a bit of when his dad died… He couldn’t laugh, couldn’t smile, he couldn’t even listen to music without the feeling of guilt snaking its way around him and ensnaring his heart. How could he sit here and smile when his father just died? How could he laugh knowing so many other people’s lives had been destroyed? It was more than losing a father, an uncle, a husband, a brother, and a son had been lost. And the devastation of it all made Chase feel like he couldn’t enjoy those simple little things in life anymore.

And it was here now, as he laid on his back, arms wrapped around his stomach as laughter bounced off his ribs and into the world, as his stomach twisted in pain from such joy. That thought in the back of his head, how could he sit here laughing, knowing Nox was kidnapped. Was in pain, was being held captive, interrogated, or worse.

But oh, how he missed this feeling. How he missed feeling joy, feeling tears from laughter.

Oh… How he missed Buddy…

…

Perhaps, there are some wounds that may never be healed alone.

Chase wasn’t sure how, he wasn’t sure when he stopped laughing, or even when the topic changed, he wasn’t even sure of when he got up from the floor and sat up straight.

But he did, at some point. He wasn’t quite sure what was happening anymore, he knew they were still going over the diary. But he didn’t know what they were talking about specifically. He had been trying to tune into the conversation for the past ten minutes to no avail.

And then…

“Marquis d’Ombrage…” Ralph whispered, “It can’t be English, half of the diary isn’t written in English.”

“Let me see,” Agatha said as she held out her hand, “I can’t speak any other languages, but when I still lived in the UK, I was exposed to a lot of other languages. Maybe I can tell which one it is.”

Ralph nodded with a hum and handed the diary over to Agatha. He then turned to Deacon and Chase with his arms crossed, “You mentioned another diary, right? What was in that one?”

It took Chase a moment to realize that Ralph was speaking to him. It wasn’t until he dragged his eyes off the floor, and to his grandpa when he realized Ralph was looking at him and waiting for an answer.

“Oh,” Chase started, “Uh, it looked like it was written before—no wait, after they found the keys. I don’t know how long though.”

“Do you remember anything it said?”

God, Chase really didn’t have the mental capacity for this, “Uhm, it mentioned Mathilda and another girl named Colette. She was—”

He sold her. He sold his daughter. He used her for money. He sold her off to some old man just to make a quick buck.

“Uhm,” Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, he can’t throw up right now, “She got married, and Marquis was talking about getting money and moving to the island, and—”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt,” Chase turned to Agatha, and silently thanked her for the interruption, “Ralph, I have a question about the diary.”

Ralph turned to her, “Yes?”

“You… You know what it’s saying, Ralph?” Came Agatha’s voice, Chase’s eyes looked for his redheaded neighbor, and he was surprised to see a look of confusion on her face. “Like, what it means?”

“Yes?” Ralph responded, an eyebrow raised, “Why?”

Agatha looked hesitant for a moment, as though considering whether she should respond. She looked uncertain, and played with a curly strand of hair, a nervous tick of hers that Chase had learned to know.

“I don’t understand it.” She confessed.

… What?

Something in the air shifted, and everyone turned to look at Agatha.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t either!” Prunella’s high-pitched voice served as a reminder of her presence. She pointed to the diary, the motion worried Chase, afraid the kid would somehow destroy it. “It just looks like a bunch of weird cursives. But like the ones in those princess stories that start with a book opening in the beginning. But at least those have actual words!” She glared at the book like it had personally offended her, “This is just a bunch of gibberish!”

“Wait,” Deacon pulled the diary to himself, flipping through pages and scanning them. He appeared to find the entry he was looking for, and turned it back around, pointing at a sentence Chase had read earlier. “What does this say to you?”

Evrarad and Mathilda are absolutely delighted for the news, and even more so for the trip.

“Uhm,” Agatha hesitated, “I don’t think I could pronounce it.”

“Just, try, Mrs. G, please?” Deacon pleaded; she waited a moment. Then she nodded her head and leaned to the diary.

“Evrarad and Mathilda… Art absolutely… delight’d f’r… The news, and… Coequal? M—M’re so f’r… The trippeth?”

The room was quiet, Mrs. G looked at Deacon with uncertain eyes.

But Deacon’s eyes, were wide with horror and confusion. And Chase had no doubt his were too, because…

“That’s not right.” Deacon whispered, “It says, ‘Evrarad and Mathilda are absolutely delighted for the news, and even more so for the trip.’ In almost perfect modern English.”

“I don’t know much about History compared to you guys,” Prunella interjected as she crossed her arms, “But I’m pretty sure that’s not modern English. The only time I hear people say, “art” is when they refer to my art class I have during school!”

“But that’s what it says!” Chase grabbed the diary from Deacon, who jumped at the sudden motion, “All of it is written in the English we speak today. Like, today today! Not,” He spun his hand in a circular direction, it was the only way to get his emotions out, “Medieval English or whatever it’s called!”

“Why would something written in the 1600s be in modern English?”

Prunella’s question, or was it more of a statement? Whatever, it didn’t matter, because regardless of what it was, she said it as though it was pure common sense. And in truth, it was, why… How…

He had thought that maybe the diary was just a transcript. Rewritten and translated for people today to understand. But that didn’t explain why it looked so old, why the supposed transcript itself was handwritten, and above all…

Why couldn’t Prunella and Agatha understand it??

“I—” Chase began, trying to find the words to form his thoughts, “I don’t know, okay?! But that’s what I see! That’s what Deacon sees, that’s what grandpa sees,” Chase shook his head vaguely, “What… Why don’t you…”

Why don’t they understand? It’s in normal English! Why can’t they see the same things Chase sees?

“We’re not crazy!” The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Nobody’s saying we are, Chase!” Deacon yelled, though, contrary to his words, he was now looking at his cousin like he was crazy. Which didn’t help AT ALL!

“Well, I feel crazy! Especially when you look at me like that, so STOP!”

Silver’s face scrunched with worry, “Chase, perhaps you should rest a bit more?”

“No!” His hands flew to his face and muffled his voice, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to raise my voice or get mad, I just—” His hands tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear. Chase took in the texture of his hair, fighting off the memories and faint whispers of Nox running his hand through it. His hands slid to the sides of his neck, his skin was cold, the warmth from his neck seeped into his palms. He breathed in deeply and tried to get back to the ground and find his footing. “I just want to do this now, okay? Please.”

The room fell silent, Chase’s plea bled into the walls and floor of the home. Into their ears and travelling through their bodies and straight into the heart. It was such a stab in the heart, though he did not intend to, Chase had grabbed their hearts and almost ripped it out.

There was not a single soul in that room that didn’t know Chase needed to sleep. Chase himself knew this, he could feel it in his eyes, pinned open and an almost wrinkled like feeling in his eyes and bags. He felt it in his arms when he reached for something, how his body refused to move as quickly as he wished it would. He felt weak, a vague but painless soreness twisted through his body. Slinking through his limbs until it got a hold of him and held him back. He heard it in his thoughts, slow and sluggish, and struggling to process the words being said to him.

He was exhausted, he knew he was. He knew he should rest; he wanted to rest.

But more than anything, he just wanted Buddy home, he wanted his mom to be the peak of health again, he wanted Violet to be with the rest of her family. To be able to hold them closely and tightly and refuse to let go again. He wanted Nox to be human, to feel the sun on his skin once more, to feel his hair strands brush against his ears and forehead. To be hungry and crave food, to need food to sustain health and life. To get stomachaches, and feel a pinch when he fell, to lay down and feel the fabrics and grass brush against him. To lay down and breathe, to feel air enter through his mouth and traverse through his body as his chest rose, to feel it fall when that breath retraced its steps and back into the world. To feel sad and express that pain through tears, to feel his cheeks dampen and the saltiness accidentally fall into his mouth.

More than anything, more than being together, more than seeing and holding Buddy again. More than all of that, Chase wanted Nox to feel the beauty of being a human being once more.

Chase’s eyebrows were scrunched together, his vision blurred as something wet crept its way through his eyes. It made his eyes go wide and pushed his lips together and did everything he could to stop them from quivering. He shut his eyes closed, shutting tears out from the outside world as he tried to breathe again, but it sounded like a cry.

“Okay.” Chase turned to the source of the voice, and was shocked to see it was his grandpa. There was something painful in his eyes, his mouth pressed into a fine line as he nodded. He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at Chase in the eyes, “Okay, we can do that. But you have to rest afterwards, okay?”­­

Chase loved his grandpa, deeply and truly. He didn’t say it often, frankly because he did not know how to say it. But his grandfather meant so much to him, he’ll never forget how he took Myra and him into his arms at his father’s funeral. Despite the pain of losing his son, a type of grief no parent should ever experience, he held them. How tightly he held them, how he opened his home with open arms. His grandfather meant so much to him, more than words could ever truly capture. More than a piece of artwork or a song, more than maybe… Anything that existed. Ralph wasn’t a perfect person; he wasn’t a perfect grandfather. But he was Chase’s, and that was more than enough.

He hoped that gratitude was shown when he nodded, “Okay, I promise.”

—

“I don’t get it,” Deacon said, “The diary says you guys were found, but you remember being created?”

“That is what we said, yes.” Sarcasm was always Copper’s favorite way to speak.

“I don’t get it,” Chase said, “Why would there be two different accounts of how you guys,” Chase gestured to the keys in a vague way with his arms, “Came into existence? Were found? Appeared into being? Were born?”

“We get it, Chase.”

“Hey! I was already done, Dorkin! So… Bleh!” Chase stuck his tongue out at Deacon.

“It’s interesting,” Iron’s chin rested on his thumb, his pointer finger was resting on his bottom half of his mouth, “A firsthand primary source, us and our memories, contradicting another primary source, Marquis’s diary…”

“Well, I say the account you trust are the people who lived through it.” Copper crossed his arms and leaned against Prunella’s water bottle. “Marquis was always the cunning type; he might have rewritten his diary later to make it seem like we were a ‘blessing from god.’”

“But what would he gain out of that?” Ralph argued, “I doubt it was attention or fame, considering how secretive Ex-Libris is.”

“I, uh, well,” Copper stumbled on his words then closed his eyes and looked away, “I don’t know! Maybe it was just for himself, the old man was an awful human being!”

“Copper!” Silver scolded, but Copper didn’t back down.

“He was, Silver! You can pretend he wasn’t, but he was, and you know it!” At this point, Copper had uncrossed his arms and began walking to Silver. There was something in his voice, it held venom and resentment. Chase… Wondered if he sounded like that earlier, “The man sold his daughters, threatened his sons, and beat his wife! And that’s not even counting all the other shit he did after Mathilda died!”

He… Did… Mathilda…

What?

What?!

What?!

What?!

WHAT?!

“Okay, wait, wait! I need you both to slow down!” Chase held his hands up, because WHAT, “What, who… Wha—”

Chase saw Silver’s face.

It was scrunched in pain, her eyes were wide, her eyebrows turned up, and her mouth hung agape, her bottom lip quivered.

Chase knew without a doubt, that if she was able to, she would have been crying.

A storm raged within Chase, and he instinctively jumped forward. He wasn’t sure what he was going to, and that scared him. But something, no, someone grabbed his arm and pulled him back and wrapped their arms around his chest.

Deacon.

“Chase—”

“Copper! What is wrong with you—!” Deacon needed to get his damn hands oFF OF CHASE RIGHT NOW!

“Chase—!” He heard Deacon struggle, “Calm down!”

“No! No way! He made Silver cry; you don’t do that! Not under my house!”

“Chase, maybe you should rest outsi—"

“Mom, what did Copper mean by sold his daughters?”

“Ah! Prunella, sweetie! Uhm—”

“Charlie! You need to calm down!”

“Calm down my butt! He made her cry!”

“Grandpa, help me!”

“Everyone please, this is no way to—"

“Copper! What is wrong with you?!”

“Silver, are you okay? Jade! I think I need help! I’m, I’m not as good at this as you!”

“I’m coming, Sapphire! Just, wait, Agatha, can you—"

“I really think we should—"

“Copper! You can’t just say things like that unprompted!”

“Silver, hon, hey, look at me. It’s okay—"

“Mom, you haven’t answered my question.”

“Prunella, honey, it’s… It’s complicated, I can’t—”

“Yes! Miss Prunella was still in the room!”

“Everyone, please—!”

“Well, they were going to learn at some point!”

“Yeah! Well you’re gonna learn what it’s like to have my foot up your—"

“Chase please! He’s half the size of a TV remote!”

“Deep breathes Silver, it’ll be okay—”

“And?! It won’t stop me!”

“You are making it worse, Chase!”

“Charlie, control yourself, we just talked about this—!”

“Copper! You are going to apologize to Silver this moment!”

“She shouldn’t keep defending him!”

“I’m about to defend my fist with your FACE!”

“What does that even MEAN?!”

“I’m—I’m fine… I—I just—”

“HA! You wouldn’t hit me, and you know it!”

“Deacon let go of me!”

“SHUT UPPPPPPPPPP!!”

The voice was shrill, loud, and booming. Chase had no idea who it was until he saw Ruby, their eyes closed, and hands clutched together. They were breathing heavily, there was nothing but rage in their eyes. They huffed, patted down their outfit aggressively, and dusted off their arms, all the while, that rage still present in their eyes.

“I sincerely apologize for my language. But you all should be ashamed of yourselves! Conducting yourselves in such a manner not only in front of our very unwell sister, but also in front of a child?! You should all be ashamed of yourselves!”

Ruby turned to Copper, their face still scrunched in a scowl, “Copper!” Copper flinched, “I understand your feelings towards Marquis. He… Was not a good man, I should know, I spent the most time with him out of everyone here. I know he hurt you, he hurt everyone here, including his own family.” Ruby closed their eyes, and somehow, Chase knew they were recalling memories. Old ones with such a thick layer of dust on them one would think it was the color of it.

Or maybe, there was no dust for Ruby. Maybe the memories were still fresh, as though they were formed just yesterday.

“However,” Ruby’s voice was strict, and powerful, “That does not give you the right to reveal such information. Miss Prunella was in the room, and you spoke of matters that no child her age should know of. I am disappointed in you, you know better, I know you know better. And regardless of whether it was your intention or not, you should not have said such words to Silver. Lady Mathilda meant so much to her and mentioning her… Untimely demise to Silver was a low blow, even if it was not your intention.”

“And Charlie!” Chase flinched, Ruby’s eyes were striking, they stared into Chase’s soul like daggers, “I understand that Silver is important to you, she is to me as well. However, that is no excuse for you to bring any harm to her brother! Copper was out of line, and his words were harsh, and he owes her an apology. But that does not mean you go and threaten to hurt him; you must remember the difference in our size compared to yours. Not only could you cause Copper some serious harm, but, threatening even one of us can give any one of us reason to not trust you anymore!”

“Deacon,” Jesus, Chase wondered if Deacon’s soul jumped out of his body, “Thank you for holding back, Chase. I fear what could have happened had you not been here.”

Chase felt Deacon relax and heard a sigh of relief come out, “Oh… You’re welcome…”

“Mr. Hollow, you should have done more to assist Deacon with Chase. I understand that human strengths dimmish when they grow older. But you have clearly established that you are still capable of handling yourself.” Ruby turned, “Miss Agatha, I deeply apologize for my siblings and the Hollows behaviors,” Ruby bowed deeply, an action they had only done once before. When Chase had found Ruby, and the monarch key thanked him for saving their family. “Please forgive our actions. Should this topic continue, I think it be best that Miss Prunella be moved to another room.”

“I shall go with her!” Goldie volunteered, and Ruby nodded gracefully.

“I think that would be for the best.”

Prunella walked over to Goldie and held her hands out, and as natural as a human eating and sleeping, Goldie stepped onto her hand. Agatha asked if there was any room in the home, she could take Prunella and Goldie to, and Ralph led them out of the living room and into another part of the house.

Chase… He didn’t… How… Why…

Everything was sobering up for him once more, and Chase looked at his hands.

What was wrong with him? Why would he threaten to hurt Copper? Sure, the guy could be a jerk sometimes, but that doesn’t mean Chase could hurt him. Chase never wanted to hurt the keys, he would be just as awful as, as—

Oh my God, was he going crazy? He had to be. Was he? What was wrong with him today? He wanted to go home, but he was home, but this didn’t feel like home. Maybe it was because his mom wasn’t here, or because his dad was gone, or maybe it was both. He wanted to go into a book and talk to Nox. He wanted to be comforted, what was happening? What was going to happen? He can’t do this anymore, oh my God. Was he making up excuses for himself? Was he trying to find a way to make himself the victim? Oh god, he didn’t want to be the victim. He knew what he did wasn’t right, but, oh my god, what does he do? Can he run away? No, he can’t then it'll look like he’s running away from the consequences of his own actions. But then—

“Chase? Are you okay?”

Huh… Who…

Chase’s eyes floated over to what he hoped was the source of the voice, and they landed on her. Bright pink gemstone eyes shined at him, her eyebrows scrunched, her lips were still quivering.

He wondered if this was what it was like to feel heartbreak.

“Are you okay, Chase?”

“I… I’m sorry. To you and Copper, and Prunella, even though she’s not in the room anymore. Ruby’s right, I… Shouldn’t have done that…”

“It’s…” Silver closed her eyes, but she didn’t say anything more.

“I’m, sorry too, Silver.” Copper turned to his sister, his eyes full of guilt and sorrow, “I shouldn’t have mentioned her like that.”

Her…

Silver closed her eyes once more, and sighed sadly, “It’s… We had to tell them sooner or later… She… Would have been brought up at some point.”

Mathilda…

“Silver,” Chase began, his eyes pleading, “I… Understand if you don’t want to, but… I need to ask you something. Something that may be hard for you to talk about, but it is up to you.”

Silver must have known, she had to, because her shoulders squished together, as though bracing herself, “It’s… Okay with me. Ask away.”

There was no turning back now, maybe they had long since moved past the point of return.

“Silver,” Chase begged as he felt his heart hammer against his chest, “Who was Mathilda?”

Something in the air shifted, no, rather, something in the keys shifted. Their bodies went rigid, still, and uneasy. Silver’s hands clenched together, and slowly, she lifted her head, turning to Chase’s direction. Her eyes were wide, and for a moment, Chase thought he saw a look of pure terror in them. But he looked for another second, and he realized it was not terror.

It was anguish. Pure anguish.

“Silver?!” Did he make a mistake again? He didn’t want to hurt Silver, he really didn’t… But—

Silver blinked, as though she snapped back to reality, “I’m okay.” She said and rubbed her check with her hand, a futile attempt to wipe away a tear her metal body denied her the privilege to release, “I just… Haven’t heard that name in a long time.” Her hands slowly came to the center of her chest, placed over one another, as though she held her heart, “It’s like a memory I had forgotten, placed on a shelf and reduced to collect dust…”

For a moment, she didn’t say anything else, and neither did the other keys. They all simply stood there, recollecting memories that had been left forgotten. Each sibling slowly picking one up and dusting it off. None of them said anything for a while, but Chase wasn’t afraid of the possibility that they wouldn’t answer his question. He knew they would, so he waited. He sat there on the floor, brought a hand to Silver, rubbed her back with his finger, and waited.

Silver was the one to break the silence.

“Lady Mathilda was Master Marquis’s youngest daughter, something I am sure you and Deacon know by now. She was… Considered a light in a family filled with darkness and dim candles. She…”

“She was Marquis’s favorite.”

“Copper!” Silver scolded her brother, who only shrugged.

“It’s true.” He turned to the humans, but his eyes locked with Chase’s, “Mathilda and Evrarad were Marquis’s favorite children. Evrarad because he was the oldest son, but especially because he was the couple’s first-born child. But Mathilda…” Copper’s eyes held sorrow as his gaze no longer met Chase’s, “He loved her in a way he didn’t with the others. It was like she could do no wrong, everything she did was right and perfect.”

“Master Marquis… Put a lot of pressure on her,” Silver continued, “From a young age, she was fluent in several different languages, knew how to play multiple instruments, and much more. At most, she struggled to dance.” Silver sighed, pulled her hands together, and shut her eyes harshly, “And that includes… Her getting married…”

Oh God…

No, not another one, please no, not her.

Chase didn’t know her, there was no way to know her. But even so, the bit he knew about her, he was attached to her. He knew it was stupid; she wasn’t some fictional character; she was a real person. She lived a life, she walked the Earth, she laughed, and cried, and got angry, she was human. She was alive at some point, so yes, Chase felt… Awful to say he was attached to her.

But he was, he cared about her, even though she had long since passed.

Please, he begged to whoever was listening, please tell me she wasn’t sold off…

He knew he was making a face; Chase would have been a fool if he didn’t know. Because Silver looked at him, her face scrunched together in pain, “Chase,” She said, “Theres’s… A lot of information about her, Lady Mathilda’s life was not pretty.”

“Even so…” Chase whispered, “She found you all… She was Marquis’s favorite. Surely, there’s something about her that can help us. No… It’s not that. I…”

He felt awful to say this, he felt like he was betraying Buddy. Stabbing him and leaving him behind to rot.

But… But…

“I need to know more about her. I want to know more about her. Please, can you tell me anything, any small thing about her?”

“I… I can, but—”

“Then please, Silver, please.”

Silver sighed, “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you, Chase. It’s just… It’s not… Happy. Our time here with you all has made us realize that many things have changed since we were created. Lady Mathilda was… Her life wasn’t happy, it was…”

Tragic.

Something tugged in Chase’s chest, he couldn’t stand pushing Silver like this. He understood her warnings, but…

“I’m… Ready for that. Silver,” She turned to him and their eyes met, “What can you tell me about her?”

Silver’s body tightened, her shoulders squished, and she hesitated for a moment. She turned to her siblings; each gave a varying reaction. Rose gave her a comforting smile, Ruby nodded, Iron shrugged, etc.

Silver took in a deep breath, and turned back to Chase, her face was grave.

“It… Depends, Chase. How much do you want to know about her?”

Chase looked at Silver, really looked at her. He looked past the gems in her eyes and to who Silver was as a person. Someone who had lived and seen things Chase could never even think to comprehend or to create. Someone who saw the foundation of this family, of the origin of Ex-Libris, who saw it all descend into what it is now. He saw all the pain and grief through her eyes that was forever engraved into her being. He couldn’t do that to her, he couldn’t make her open all those wounds once more.

And yet…

Chase stared at the floor, swallowed a lump in his throat, and looked back at Silver.

“Everything.”

Chapter Text

“Lady Mathilda had five older sisters; Miss Colette included. And six brothers, Lord Evrarad being the oldest. She was… Kind and loving, but she kept to herself a lot.”

Silver took in a deep breath; she appeared to be gathering her thoughts and memories. There was this look in her eyes, something Chase couldn’t quite recognize.

“Before her, Miss Colette was my keyholder. And I liked her, Miss Colette was very kind, and wise beyond her years. But when she was…” Silver trailed off, her eyes seemed distant, “When she left, I was passed on to Lady Mathilda.”

Ruby gave Silver a look, to which Silver nodded. Ruby stepped forward, “Marquis had originally wanted Lady Mathilda to be Silver’s keyholder, as he felt she was most fitting for the role. Mistress Adeline, however, said it would only be fair for Miss Colette to use Silver, as she was older than Lady Mathilda, and was likely going to be married soon.”

“Regardless,” Silver continued, “I became Lady Mathilda’s key. And with that role change, I began spending more time with her.” Silver cupped her hands together, and looked at Chase, “Back then, in the earlier days of our creation, we were allowed to wander around more freely. Ex-Libris was in its early days, after all, it wasn’t even called Ex-Libris yet, it was merely known as the d’Ombrage family. And only those closely related to Master Marquis held higher status, the only exception was Sir Arthur, his brother. But no one else with Sir Arthur’s blood was allowed to know the full truth. We had spent our first year of life on the mainland, they were on vacation after all when they created us. But I had only become Lady Mathilda’s key in those last few months before we returned to the land of our creation.”

Silver began to walk towards Marquis’s diary, she stared at the sprayed-out pages, yellowed, and faded with time. She sat down on her knees, her dress spilling out around her like an elegant fan, she reached out to the pages, but she did not touch them. Her hand remained in the air, hovering over the words until it stopped at Mathilda’s name, written in neat cursive. Only then, did she allow her hand to gently lay on the paper, her fingers running through the girl’s name.

“Lady Mathilda… Was nothing like her father, and she knew she wasn’t. If her father was one side of a coin, then she was the other.” Silver’s eyes turned sorrowful, “If her father was the darkness, encasing and swallowing everything whole, then Lady Mathilda was the light, an angel that shined so brightly she saved anything she touched.”

Silver closed her eyes, and tilted her head upwards, a pleasant smile on her face, “She liked what is considered today as classic fairy tales. Cinderella was her favorite, it wasn’t as well-known back then, but she adored it, nonetheless. ‘How magnificent t might not but beest,’ She said, ‘To escapeth such a dreadful home and into freedom.’”

The words held a thick accent, and they felt ancient, though it was still English, it almost felt like a long, forgotten language. If his attention was even just a fraction shorter, he would have missed the meaning behind such words.

Silver opened her eyes slowly, her smile had fallen, and there was this darkness in them now, “Lady Mathilda was always under a lot of stress, she knew of her father’s favor towards her, and she bore witness to all his actions. One of her elder sisters, Jehanne, had trouble finding a husband.”

Chase cleared his throat, “Yeah, he uhm… He mentioned that in the journal.”

Silver nodded, “We weren’t there when it happened, but Lady Mathilda told me about it. She said that Master Marquis would always say that Jehanne was… the most ill-favored of her sisters. I didn’t agree with the sentiment, of course, Miss Jehanne was a very beautiful woman, but out of her sisters, she was the most reserved, she preferred to stay out of the spotlight.”

Silver tucked her hands together and held a grim look on her face. “When I met her, she had just married and was pregnant with her first child.”

Oh…

Silver went on, “Lady Mathilda said it was not Miss Jehanne’s fault for struggling to find a husband. She believed their father was at fault, that he made her that way, that one could only take being called… Ugly… for so long. Before it would affect how they view themselves, how they carry themselves, everything.”

“Silver,” Chase spoke, “How… How long did it take her to get married?”

From the way Marquis spoke about it, the way Silver spoke about him, one would think she took years to marry. And part of Chase couldn’t help but hope that was a case, that she was able to age just by a few years before being forced to play the role of an adult.

Silver looked away, as though ashamed, “… I think she took two months.”

Chase wanted to throw up, “But… That’s nothing.”

“To Marquis, that time was everything.” Ruby said looking sick, their jaw clenched and their arms were crossed, as though it would protect them from the past.

Silver’s eyes tore away from her sibling, and toward the table, she cupped her hands together, “More than anything, Lady Mathilda wanted to be free. She wanted to live her life the way she desired. To choose her husband, to choose when she would marry, to choose even if she wanted to have children. There was so much she wanted, so much she hoped for, she loved her sisters dearly, but she didn’t want to end up like them. She saw the way such pressures affected them, how quickly they were forced to grow up. That fate…” Silver held her hands together, her eyes scrunched as she relived such a painful memory, “That destiny that awaited her, no matter what she did, the fact that she knew exactly what would happen to her, it terrified her.”

Chase couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “She… She shouldn’t have had to… She was only a child; no child should have to be scared of something like that.”

Silver looked at Chase sadly, “I agree. But I’m afraid that back then, it was normal. Not so much on the level Master Marquis took it too though. Often, I overheard even the most traditional minded people speak of how extreme his expectations of his daughters were.”

She tore her eyes away from him, “But I did my best to comfort her, and it worked. She took solace in her age, and so did I. Lady Mathilda was only nine years old at the time, she had plenty of time before she began her courses. I think now-a-days you all call them…”

“Periods.” Agatha answered, and Silver nodded.

“Yes, periods. She was only nine, Colette and Margo began theirs at twelve, Jehanne at thirteen, the ages were always mixed. One of her cousins began hers at age fifteen, so there was no set deadline for when hers began. We whole-heartedly believed she would begin hers late, we thought she had all the time she needed to figure something out.”

Oh no…

Silver’s face turned grave, “But, only just a few weeks after her eleventh birthday, she woke up with a light red stain on her bed.”

Agatha gasped, a hand flew her to mouth, Deacon’s body went rigid, and Ralph… Chase couldn’t read Ralph’s face, but he looked angry.

The keys all froze, some of them began fidgeting. Chase felt something travel its way through his stomach and up his throat, and it took every inch of power within to not let it escape.

“I’ll never forget that morning,” Silver whispered, her voice was different now, there was something… Darker in it, something unpleasant to Chase that struck a fear into his heart, something cruel and awful, and—

Oh.

It was anger.

He had never seen Silver angry before.

“It was early, and I was woken up by her frantically running around her room. This was a few years after we moved back to the island, and the chateau was still in progress of being built, so there were always people awake and walking around. I had never seen her look so… Frightened. I could see it in her eyes, she was replaying the future her father had written for her in her head, watching the one she envisioned for herself crumble into dust and rubble. Feeling her past slip through her fingers as she could only watch.” Silver paused for a moment, she sniffled, “She was trying to tear the sheets, rip the spot off, anything. She couldn’t be too loud, and she had to hurry, she was Marquis only daughter still there, not to mention his favorite, so there was always a maid who came in to check on her every hour, even during the night, it was only a matter of time before she appeared.”

Silver looked up, and there was a fire in her eyes, “I was not going to let them take her. Not if I could help it.”

Chase felt something rock him to his very core, his chest filled with something unpleasant and prickling. He felt as though the ground beneath him shook, with no support to catch him on the way down.

He had never seen Silver look so angry before.

“I told her to ring the bell for the children’s nursemaid, and to ask her to get my siblings, at least, the ones she could get without raising suspicion. In the meantime, I helped her get rid of her nightgown before my siblings arrived.”

“We washed it out,” Rose stepped forward now, his face uneasy, “I… Don’t remember how, I just know we did. “

Silver nodded, “In the end, they never found the stain, and Lady Mathilda was never caught. We kept it hidden from everyone for four years, she always dreaded those weeks, but she never gave any implication of anything, she did everything in her power to hide it, and it worked. For years, they never suspected a thing, and for a while, everything was fine.”

Copper laughed dryly, “Well, as fine as everything could be in that family.”

Chase had expected to hear Silver scold Copper once more, but she didn’t. Instead, she simply nodded sadly, “But everything comes to an end… Four years later, they found a stain.”

“No…” The words left Chase before he could even think.

“We don’t know how,” The words were hissed out from Copper’s mouth, “We did everything right, we never left a single trace behind, nothing, and yet—”

“We…” Silver took a moment, but her eyes were planted on Copper, “We did everything we could… We did our best; our best was just… Not enough, unfortunately…” She turned away from her brother, her head tilted to the ground and she shut her eyes, “In the end, she was forced to marry a man… I do not remember his name.”

Nor do I want to, the words are left unsaid, but they were there. Faint like a dream, its spirit lingering on Silver’s lips, desperately trying to claw its way to freedom and reality. But she pushed her lips together into a tight, thin line.

“She…” Silver tried to continue, but her voice wavered ever so slightly, “She was…” She cupped her hands together in a tight squeeze.

No, no more, no more than she can handle, please—

“It’s okay, Silver,” Chase hoped his voice sounded gentle, that the disgust and anger were buried just deep enough that Silver couldn’t hear them, “You don’t… Need to tell us.” Chase pictured a young girl, though the image was foggy and faint, for Chase did not know what she looked like. And yet, there, in his head, through his eyes, he saw a young girl, sitting at a table, her chin resting on her hands as she listened to the Heroine key speak, a bright smile on her face.

In his head, she shined as bright as the stars, something untouchable, yet real. But reality was cold and cruel, and Chase remembered the words Silver spoke, and he watched, helplessly, as that young child’s future was stolen from her.

Chase swallowed a lump stuck in his throat, he could not throw up here, “I can… I can only imagine how she felt. You don’t need to describe it.”

Silver looked at him, her eyes filled with sorrow, but she nodded slowly, “She was taken after the wedding. And she did not return for two years, she was not allowed to. But even so, soon after she was sent away, I heard news that she was…”

Silver did not say anything, she did not continue, she tucked her head away from the humans. Something sharp and cold began to rise in Chase, it made his muscles tense, made his brain go into haywire, it made him want to simultaneously throw up and throw something.

He looked at the keys, begging them, no, begging the world, no. Don’t tell him what he thought happened, had indeed happened, don’t tell him that child was taken advantage of, don’t say those words, don’t give him that look. Please, God, universe, anything, anything at all that could hear him, please don’t tell him she was—

His eyes met with the keys; their faces were grave.

Chase would sometimes wonder what drove people to do the unthinkable, to hurt someone, to take a life away, to forever scar and leave a hole in someone and their family.

For the first time in his whole life, he got his answer.

The answer didn’t scare him.

But the lack of fear from finding his answer did.

Silver nodded, gravely, “When news reached us, Marquis was so happy that he permitted her to return home simply for the good news.” Silver tucked her face away for a moment, her hair draped over her shoulder, “She did not, but when she did two years later, she returned with her husband and child. She was… Different. That light in her eyes was gone, her smile held walls, she felt rigid like a statue. I had feared that they had done to her, what they had to her sisters, they had broken her.”

Chase dug his nails into his skin, but the stinging didn’t bother him. In fact, he almost didn’t feel it at all. He barely had half the mind to wonder if that was concerning.

“But then, a few days later, it returned, that smile, the light, all of it came back. I don’t know why, but I always liked to think it was because she was with her family again, that it brought back that side of her. And, for the first time in years, I had hope for her, and she confided in me, that she held hope too. For a better future, to find the joy in the smaller things in her life.”

“Every year,” Ruby took the stage now, and Silver didn’t seem to mind as her shoulders tensed, “The d’Ombrages held a ball on the anniversary they created us, to celebrate their ‘gift from God’. That was why Lady Mathilda had returned; it was the first ball she had been invited to since her… One would say exile.” The formal poker face Ruby always wore fell, dread filled Chase as he saw the mask of a monarch slip, “It… It was…”

“I can tell it.”

Jade’s face creased with worry as she stepped forward from her siblings and toward her sister, “But, Silver—”

Silver shook her head as she took a deep breath, “I will be fine, and besides, I… I think it is important that I retell it. I don’t… I don’t want to forget.”

Jade held her hand out, the other on her heart, she looked like she wanted to say more, like she wanted to fight back. But in the end, she only nodded, “Okay, we’re right here.”

Silver nodded and looked over to Ruby, who gave a regal nod. They walked over to their sister, their hands placed on Silver’s shoulders, and gave them a tight reassuring squeezing, before allowing Silver to have the spotlight. Silver held her hands tightly, another deep breath was taken, and she took a step forward. Her head tilted toward the ceiling, her arms rested and draped over her, her hands cupped together in the way Chase saw queens doing in TV shows, and there was something shining in her eyes

“It was a gorgeous night, the stars shined brightly. Lighting up the island as though the Heavens themselves were watching us.” Her hand reached forward, as though the stars from way back when were still radiating that same light onto them now. Her face shifted into wistfulness when the stars did not reach back, and her arm slowly fell back down as she continued to speak, “Lady Mathilda had worn a beautiful purple gown, laced with golden thread and fabric, and a bewitching pattern glittered her gown. Back then, married women were rarely allowed to have their hair to be seen, it was a sign of having been wedded. But Master Marquis allowed her to attend the ball without one. Her lady’s maids had taken full advantage to show her off, pinning her hair up with different flowers, beads, and jewels.” Silver’s smile grew, but there was still that hint of sadness to it, “She was the light of the ball, she danced as light of a feather, and I guarantee every eye was on her. She was sixteen at that point, so she was considered a young lady, she had been ever since she had her daughter.”

Something in Chase had been taken out of him, not in a bad way, of course. But there was so much love and adoration filtered in Silver’s voice. It was like how she spoke about her family, like how he overheard her speak about him to Deacon or Buddy. But it was unique in its own way.

Chase wondered if, perhaps, Silver shared a unique bond with this girl. The same way she did with him.

But that wistful smile Silver wore this whole time fell, and she turned her back to the group of humans. As though she was the one responsible for her next words. Her face scrunched, and for a moment, Chase wondered if she was going to cry again. The mere thought of it made Chase’s heart crack.

“But, unbeknownst to us, some of the lower ranking members, though, back then they were merely just indentured servants, had been grievously unhappy and unsatisfied. There had been rumors, of course, of a coup d'etat, but no one believed one would happen.”

Something sickening grabbed hold of Chase’s chest and pulled it into the darkness.

“None of us had ever heard a gunshot before that moment. People scattered everywhere, some ran out through doors, others… Were not as fortunate.” Her hand bunched together over her chest, “Lady Mathilda’s daughter was picked up by her father, Master Marquis had grabbed Lord Evrarad and Lady Isabel.” Her eyes shut closed, “Lady Mathilda was lost amidst the crowd.”

“No…” The word came out of Chase’s mouth before he could protest it.

Silver glanced at him, her eyes filled with grief before she tore them away, “Mistress Adeline and Miss Colette had run upstairs to retrieve us. While the knights bravely fought back, and the servants scattered about, trying to reach Master Marquis’s children and grandchildren.” She took a step forward, walking with no set destination in mind, “My siblings and I were terrified, we had never experienced fear like this. Not even when we were taken off the island and into the unknown that was the mainland. Mistress Adeline and Miss Colette did their best to calm us down, but there was… So much screaming, and violence—”

Silver stopped, her words caught in her throat, and instinctively Chase reached out to her, and Sapphire did the same. “Silver,” She said, “You need not continue. We can tell them the rest.”

Silver only gave her sister a weak smile, “I will be fine.” She turned away from her sister, and back to the humans, her eyes locked with Chase’s. “I had slipped away for a moment, to the edge of the table we were all at. And there, I saw a purple gown, tattered and torn. Her hair had fallen out of its beautiful tucks, the beads and flowers ripped away. Lady Mathilda had been found, and in my relief, I had called out to her. Her father heard her name, and he ran to her. She had emerged from the ground and all its chaos,” Silver’s eyes shut closed harshly, her hands wrapped around one another so tightly, had she been human, her knuckles would have turned white. “But our attackers had found the artillery from outside and used it.”

For a long moment, no one said anything. Not Silver, or Sapphire, not Deacon or Ralph. Because there were no words that could truly capture the emotion of such a reveal.

‘She was sixteen…’

Mathilda d’Ombrage, the girl who found the keys, who had only ever experienced tragedy, was murdered.

Silver opened her mouth, but all that came out was a ragged breath. Her hands flew to her mouth, and her knees buckled as she fell to the ground.

“Silver!” Chase reached out to her; his fingers gently brushed against her back for support as her family surrounded her.

Jade combed Silver’s hair back, and ever the older sister, turned toward her keyholder, “Agatha, could you please take Silver with Prunella and Goldie?”

“No!” Silver choked out, her voice muffled from her hands, “I’ll be fine! I just—!”

“No!” Jade’s voice was stern, “Silver, she was so important to you. You may think you can retell the story, but your heart says otherwise.” She pushed Silver’s bangs out of the way, “And that is okay, there is nothing wrong with that, it just means you loved deeply.” She turned back to Mrs. G, “Agatha, please?”

Agatha nodded, muttering out an ‘excuse me’ as she scooped up Silver into her hands. She held the tiny girl close to her heart, rubbing her back with one finger as they made their way to the room Prunella and Goldie were in.

The door closed, and Jade sighed sadly, “Silver loved Mathilda, truly and deeply. She was heartbroken when Mathilda was married and sent away, and even more so when…” The words died on her lips. And Jade had to take a deep breath, her hand on her heart.

“The first wish that had ever been made,” Jade began, “Was from Marquis. He had wished none of his children would die at a young age. That they would all live long and healthy lives.”

The words sunk into the world, along with a cold reminder of Mathilda’s age.

“A month after the ball, Mistress Adeline died from heartbreak.” Someone had gasped, Chase didn’t know who, “With his wife and favorite child gone, Marquis was never quite the same. He didn’t believe in the wishes the same way anymore. And with the attempted uprising, he had grown distrustful to everyone. The only people he seemed to trust, was Lady Mathilda’s daughter, and Evrarad,” Jade closed her eyes, “But it wasn’t enough. One night, he had gotten a jar of narratonion and made a wish that sealed the family’s fate.”

“Evrarad and Isabel had yet to have a child,” Bronze started, and all eyes fell to him, “Despite having been married for two, maybe three years, there hadn’t been any implication that Isabel was pregnant.” He took the splinter out of his mouth and twirled it in his hands, “Marquis had begun to wonder if they had ever consummated the marriage in the first place. So, he took matters into his own hands.”

Bronze turned to the humans, the look in his eyes grave, “He had wished for Isabel to become pregnant with her and Evrarad’s child, and that she would give birth to a son. No matter the cost.” The splinter fell from his hands, his eyes followed the piece of wood flittering to the ground helplessly.

He made no attempt to pick it up.

“She gave birth to a son and died from an infection. A month before that, her older brother, I believe his name was…”

“Jean,” Chase said, “It was… In the diary.”

Bronze nodded sadly, his eyes were filled with sorrow, “Jean had died a month prior. With his wife, and closest friend gone, Evrarad became inconsolable.”

“There was more after that,” Iron added, “It was almost like tragedy after tragedy. Each caused by Marquis and his grief and rage. But none, I don’t believe, were quite as tragic as those first two.”

“Oh my God…” Chase whispered, like a hushed prayer that would shatter if spoken too loudly. He didn’t know what else to say, he didn’t even mean for that response to slip out. But it did, and it seeped its way into the floor, the walls, and the furniture. As though doing so would take it all back to the past and prevent it all.

Tragedy.

It was the only word Chase could think of that described it all.

An unspeakable, horrific tragedy.

“A lot of things changed after that,” Copper didn’t move from his spot, his legs were still crossed, his eyes still closed. But for a moment, he opened his eyes, and there was a deeply buried sense of sorrow in them, “The rankings were properly introduced, and Marquis made it almost impossible to climb them. If you were of low rank, you most likely would never go higher than that. Very rare did higher members promote those of lower status, I believe Marquis did it once with the boy who became his grandson in law.”

“Marquis raised Hugo,” Serpentine was speaking now, a finger pointing to no specific direction, “Lord Evrarad and Lady Isabel’s son, as his own. He had planned to name the boy something else, but when the word came that Lady Isabel passed on, he decided to respect her wish.”

“The bare minimum.” The words held such venom in them, that Chase could hardly believe that it was Deacon’s voice that spoke them.

Bronze bent over, picking up the splinter and then leaned against the flowerpot, “Exactly.” He dusted off the small piece of wood and flicked it, and then placed it back in his mouth, “He also raised Lady Mathilda’s daughter… I… Can’t remember her name.” His eyes looked remorseful and there was a hint of regret, “None of us can, not even Silver.”

Ruby took a step forward, their hands elegantly placed in front of them, “When she married, her husband took the d’Ombrage name. Marquis had made it so that every descendant of Mathilda, regardless of their sex, would keep the family name, and bear only one child unless they died at a young age. It was his way of keeping her memory alive, throughout time and history. And to remind everyone of what was taken from the family. To him, it served as a blessing to the family, a blessing that had been stolen from that.”

“That’s no blessing,” Chase shook his head, horrified at the words he just heard, “That’s a punishment, a curse. Forcing someone to only have one child? Forcing someone to even HAVE a child? How could he do that to his granddaughter? How could he do that to his daughter-in-law?!” God, he sounded so desperate. But he was, because how? How?!

“He didn’t care, Chase.” Chase snapped his head to Deacon, and there was so much, so much anger in it. It reminded Chase of his own, where had it gone? But Deacon didn’t notice Chase’s own crisis, for he continued, “He had been doing it all his life, he had been doing it with his daughters from the moment they were born. He didn’t care, not about his wife, children, or grandchildren.”

Deacon looked at Chase, their eyes locked, and despite that anger in his cousin’s eyes, there was something else there. “I’m sorry, Chase. You were right, that whatever it was, was not normal. Not even for that time-period.”

Ruby tried to collect themselves, “That was… Just how Marquis was.” They took in a deep rocky breath, a rough sniffle, and held their head high, “Deacon is correct, not many people then thought his actions were okay. And going off your reactions, well… I think it to be a heinous act now.”

“He’d be arrested,” Chase whispered, something in him burned, and he looked at Ruby. Their eyes widened, and Chase wondered if they took a step back, “It be a crime, an actual legal one, one that would get him put on a list or something. He—” Chase cleared his throat as he swallowed bile that tried to claw its way up his throat, “What an awful, horrible old man…”

“Grandpa? Are you okay?”

Chase turned to his grandfather; he had been silent the whole time. He never asked a question, never commented, he didn’t move, nothing. But there, he sat on the couch, his elbows rested on his knees, his fingers intertwined so tightly Chase saw veins popping out. But it was his face that scared Chase, dark, and silent, the shadow from the living room light covered his eyes. But for a moment, Chase saw them and—

Rage.

Chase felt his body tense.

“I need a moment,” He said, his voice was dark, “Excuse me, everyone.”

He stood up, and walked to the hallway, he stopped for a moment to nod at Mrs. G.

Oh God, Mrs. G. How long had she been standing there?

Her eyes were wide, her face pale, she looked sick, like she was going to fall over. Chase noticed her hands were shaking.

“Oh my God,” She whispered, “The poor girl…”

“Miss Agatha, how is Silver?” Jade, perhaps sensing the tension, ran to Agatha but stopped at the edge of the table.

Agatha seemed to take a moment to collect herself. She opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out, she shook her head, walked over and bent down to the table, “She… She will be okay, I think. I hope, but she has Goldie and Prunella with her. Do you want to see her?”

Jade nodded, “Yes, please.”

“Wait,” Chase held out his hand, “I want… I want to ask you all something.”

“We should get Goldie and Silver then—”

“No,” Chase shook his head at Jade, “No, it’s okay I… I think I just need you guys for this. Well… I guess more like Ruby, if my theory is correct.”

Ruby tilted their head lightly as Chase scooted closer to the table.

“Ruby, you said you were the closest to—to Marquis, right?” Just saying the name made Chase want to throw up.

Ruby nodded, “Yes. May I ask why?”

“Did he ever take you around the island? And did anyone else ever did around today.”

Ruby nodded once more, but their eyes were confused, “Yes, Marquis entrusted me with many things. And as the Monarch key, I always worked closely with the head of the household and the organization. Special treatment, if you will, I was permitted to be in human form far more than my siblings were.” Ruby’s voice turned uncertain, “But why do you ask this?”

Chase played with his hands for a moment, some of his ideas were… Not always the best. Truthfully, he was afraid of asking a stupid question, of putting a foolish idea out into the open. He didn’t know why, he always asked questions, always put out his ideas, no matter how ‘stupid’ one may call it. But this was everything to Chase, this was Nox, this was his whole world.

And he was going to do everything to save his whole world.

“I want you to make a map of the island.”

Chapter Text

The keys were taken to another room. Ruby had requested paper, pencils, erasers, highlighters, and colored pencils. With the exception of Silver, all nine siblings joined Ruby on creating the map. Ralph and Agatha had taken the siblings to the same room Silver was in.

Chase had thanked Ruby, and he said he would apologize to Silver when he saw her again. Ruby didn’t respond, they only nodded, but he could see gratefulness in their blue eyes.

“Mr. Hollow,” Ruby said as Ralph held them and a few other siblings. “Would you mind if I spoke to you and Mrs. Gruenefelder for a moment?”

Ralph seemed somewhat surprised by the request. He turned to the boys and silently asked them to wait a moment. The boys nodded, and Ralph and Agatha headed inside.

“Why’d you ask for the keys to make a map of the island?” Deacon’s voice was grave, his thoughts still lingering on the youngest daughter of the d’Ombrage line.

Chase tugged at the drawstrings of his jacket. “I feel like if we have the shape of the island, it might help us find it on a map.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” A few moments passed before Deacon spoke again. “The only problem is that there’s so many islands around Europe. If we’re lucky then the island will have a very specific shape that can be easily pointed out. But if not…”

Deacon was right. If the island held a unique shape, then that would make it all the easier to find it. But if it was shaped more like your regular of the mill island…

“Deacon, can I see the notes we took at the library?”

“Yeah, they should be in that backpack.” Deacon pointed to the backpack that laid next to Chase. “I’m going to get my laptop. I’ll be right back.”

“’Kay.” Chase leaned over and grabbed the backpack. He unzipped it and began to pull out the journals as he heard Deacon head upstairs.

“Did you use all of those?” Prunella asked.

“Genuinely, kid. I thought we were. I’m almost surprised we didn’t.”

A creak came from the hall and Chase and Prunella turned to the source. Agatha stood in the hall waiting for Ralph. He stood next to the door, his hand still on the knob as he said something Chase couldn’t make out. He nodded before he closed the door and walked over to the kids.

“Alright, the keys are working on the map.” He rolled up his sleeves. “We’re going to get food. What do you kids want?”

Chase’s ears perked. “Pizza!”

A sparkle appeared in Prunella’s eyes as she nodded. “Yes! Pizza please!”

Before Ralph could argue Chase turned around in the direction of the stairs and shouted. “Deacon! Do you want pizza for dinner?!”

A very faint and muffled ‘yes’ rang through the hall and down the stairs.

Chase turned back to his grandpa with a smug grin. “Pizza please.”

Ralph only smirked back in response as he put on his shoes. “Yeah, that’s on me. I should have asked for your usual.”

Agatha walked over to Prunella and placed her hand on her knees as she leaned down. “Prunella, dear, be good to Chase and Deacon, okay? We’ll be right back.”

“I will. Don’t worry mom, they’ll be safe with me watching them.”

Agatha chuckled at her daughter’s joke and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

“Alright kids, we’ll be back. Don’t burn down the house. And don’t open the door to anyone. We’re also going to stop at the convenience store to get the keys snacks.”

“Alright, be safe!” Chase yelled as the two walked towards the door. They said their goodbyes and left. Chase didn’t move until he heard the lock click.

That very second Chase also heard footsteps walking down the stairs. Deacon emerged within seconds and sat down on the side of the coffee table. He placed his laptop on the table and began to power it on.

Prunella sat across from Deacon. She leaned against the table with her elbows placed on the surface and rested her chin on her hands. “What kind of notes did you two even take?”

Deacon shrugged. “Just some stuff about Europe’s geography, the ocean, and some plants.”

Chase scoffed playfully. “’Some plants’ he says. Deacon, you’re saying that like as though we didn’t look up and write down literally every single plant in Europe.”

Prunella wrinkled her nose. “Every single plant?”

Deacon nodded proudly as Chase made a sound akin to begging someone to take him out of his misery.

“Every. Single. Plant. In. Europe.” Chase threw his head against the couch cushions. “My hand was killing me.” He pointed to his head. “You see this brain, kid? This isn’t the type of brain meant to hold information regarding plants, flowers, and trees, and coconuts—”

“You both found coconuts on the island?”

“What? No? I don’t think so? We haven’t even found the island.” Chase lifts his head and looks at Deacon. “Did we find coconuts?”

“Enough about coconuts!”

“But, coconut—”

“CHASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, THIS ISN’T ABOUT COCONUTS—!”

“… You put the lime in the coconut—OW!” Chase rubbed his head and glared at Deacon for throwing a notebook at him.

“Mom said you shouldn’t throw things at Chase.”

“Yeah, Dorkin! You shouldn’t throw things at Chase!”

“Why are you speaking like that?!” Deacon made some strangled noises before he sighed. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I feel like how Buddy did when you two first met.”

Chase had never felt his smile fall faster.

All at once, he felt bile try to climb its way through his throat. His stomach felt uneasy as a wave crashed into him. He wanted to lie down, he wanted to be under a blanket, he wanted to go into a book just for the chance to see Nox again—

“Shoot, Chase, I didn’t mean—I’m sorry—”

Right. Deacon is here. And Prunella too. He shouldn’t… make them worried.

“No uh…” Chase laughed nervously. “It’s okay. I uh… I shouldn’t try to bury those memories. It’s not… healthy…”

It was partly true. He didn’t want to forget the time he and Buddy spent together. Oh God, he sounded like Buddy had died.

… What if ha—

No. No. No. No. No.

No.

Violet said it herself; they wouldn’t harm her or Buddy. They need them alive. Buddy is fine, he’s fine, he’s alive, he has to be. Chase wouldn’t know what he would do if he wasn’t—

“Chase? Are you okay?”

Chase’s head turned to the voice. And he found Prunella’s innocent eyes looking into his dark ones.

She was so young. She was so little.

She’s just a kid.

She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be involved in this. What if she gets hurt? If Ex-Libris were to learn about her, she would be their first target. Prunella couldn’t fight back against a grown adult. With the exception of the Old Man, who Buddy described as so frail he could barely speak. But against someone else? Against whoever chased him and Deacon in the library?

A horrifying image of Prunella being dragged away appears in his head. Kicking and screaming and clawing her way out. But all attempts of escape are futile.

Chase wanted to throw up.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he smiles at Prunella. He stretches his grin and forces his eyes to relax. “I’m okay, Prun. Don’t worry about it.” He reached out to her and patted her head. Her hair was a little rough, but that was normal for her.

‘I’m sorry.’

“But, Chase—”

“I’m fine! Everything will work out. It always does.”

Chase looked over to Deacon. He maintained that smile even once he met Deacon’s worried expression. His eyes widen subtly as he begs Deacon to comply.

He watched Deacon swallow before his mouth tugged into a smile as well. “He’s right, Prun. Everything will be okay.”

The less she knows, the safer she will be.

Chase looks back at Prunella, and he pretends her smile isn’t also a lie.

‘I’m so sorry, Prunella.’

“Anyway!” Chase quickly took the wheels of this conversation. “Plants, flowers. Deacon, shoot, what we got?”

Deacon was clearly not expecting the sudden shift in Chase’s attitude. “Oh! Well, I need Violet’s letter.”

“Oh, leave that to me! I put it somewhere safe!”

Deacon nodded as Chase got to his feet and ran out of the living room and up the stairs. He went to a corner in his room where a dresser stood. In the bottom drawer was a shoebox crammed into the corner. He pulled it out, laid it on his lap and pushed open the lid.

Perfectly stacked on top of one another, were photos of his dad. One holding Chase the day he was born, another pushing him on a swing, playing a guitar.

There were so many memories kept in this box. So many moments captured and saved. And as much as he wanted to sit here and sink into them, he was here for something else.

Carefully tucked into the corner of the box was a neatly folded zip lock bag. Chase lightly tugged on it and let out a sigh of relief when he saw the small piece of paper still kept in.

He holds it in his hand securely and goes to close the box but takes one last look of the photo of his father.

It was the day Chase was born, and George held his newborn son in his hands. One supported his son’s head, and he rested his nose against Chase’s.

… Chase wished he could have met Buddy.

“I’ll visit you soon, Dad. I promise.”

—

The stairs boomed with the sound of Chase coming back downstairs.

“Letter has been retrieved!” he announced as he landed on the floor and ran back to Prunella and Deacon. He sits back in his spot in front of the couch and hands the bag over to Deacon, along with a magnifying glass Chase got from Deacon’s room.

“Thanks, Chase.” Deacon carefully unfolded the bag and took out Violet’s letter. He held up the glass and squinted at the letter.

Prunella turned to Chase. “Why can’t one of the keys read it to us or something?”

“They…” Chase sighed. “I want to give them some space. They just told us a lot, and I’m sure it was difficult for them all to talk about those memories. And they’re already making a whole map for us. It’s… it’s the least I can do…”

And the last thing they need is for Chase to remind them that their brother and sister have been kidnapped.

“Huh, that’s weird.”

Chase turned to his cousin. “What is?”

“This flower, the first one on the list… it doesn’t look familiar to me.”

“Let me see!” Without waiting for a response, Prunella crawled over to Deacon and pushed him to the side. Of course, she wasn’t actually strong enough to push Deacon, so instead he simply scooted over. “I know every single plant out there, and the families they belong to—”

“Plants have families—?” Chase asked but Prunella ignored him.

“—And I have every single one of them memorized! So, move over amateur!”

She took the magnifying glass from Deacon’s hand. But held out her palm and had Deacon rest the letter on hers. And then she looked over the letter.

Not that Chase wanted to rush a child, but she sat there quietly for a few moments examining the letter, and he was getting impatient.

“Well?”

Prunella hummed. “It’s not colored in. So, it’s probably a white flower, but…”

A white flower?

Something about it felt familiar, but Chase brushed it aside. “But?”

“I’ve… I’ve never seen a flower like that before.”

“Oh god, if Prunella has never seen it then we’re screwed.”

“Chase, she’s eight. I doubt she has seen every single plant in the world.”

“Keep talking like that and see what happens.” Prunella’s words were threatening, but they didn’t stop Deacon from taking the magnifying glass and letter.

Deacon gently placed the letter on the coffee table and lifted the magnifying glass. “I’m sure we’ll find it with just a search. So, pull your brain together and look at our notes, please.” He pulled open his laptop and began typing something.

Chase pouted, but he complied with what Deacon told him to do. Though, he did make a dramatic groan and threw his head back. He also acted like the journal was miles away.

This was done purely to make Deacon’s life more inconvenient.

“What the heck…” Deacon’s voice was low, but Chase still heard it.

“What? Did you just learn that sweater vests are out of style?”

“No, it’s just—I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that—There isn’t anything about this flower. Deacon looked back at his laptop screen to double-check the results. “There isn’t anything about this flower. Like as though it doesn’t exist.”

“I told you!”

“No, Chase, you don’t get it. This… this isn’t good.” He turned back to his cousin and neighbor. “I mean, science-wise it is! Undiscovered floral and plants! It’s revolutionary, it’s historic! Chase, do you know what this means?”

"That you’re a huge dork—?”

“It means—I’m going to ignore that—It means that this flower is native to the island! This is huge!”

“Deacon, I know that this is huge, and I’m really stoked for you. But… how does this help us find Buddy and Violet?”

Deacon looked at Chase with a conflicted expression Chase couldn’t read. His mouth fell open multiple times. “It…” He sighed. “It doesn’t, Chase. I’m sorry.” Chase felt his heart shift into a bundle of nerves. He fought back the nerves, crawling up his throat as Deacon looked back at his laptop. “Going off from what the keys said about Marquis, it wouldn’t surprise me if that man tried to keep the place as secret as possible.” He turned back to Chase with furrowed eyebrows. “So, I doubt he, or any of his descendants, would have ever reported any native organisms to… well, anyone outside of the island.”

Chase pushed himself back against the side of the couch, the cushions making a loud thump sound as his neck craned up and landed against the pillow. He traced the patterns on their popcorn styled ceiling with his eyes. A white flower… A white flower… why did it feel so familiar? It was something on the tip of his tongue, something in the corner of his brain.

It wasn’t before Buddy and Violet were taken. While he had seen flowers in books, none of them were white. They were always bright and lively colors, like red, blue, and yellow.

When was the last time he saw flowers? There were some in the book he and Nox last met in, but none of them were white. There were flowerpots in front of the library, but they were purple or something. And he saw way too many flowers in books at that place.

After that they went into the Archive Room but there were no plants there. Not even any bits of dirt or weed in the room that slipped between the cracks of the floors. There were no pots to plant any sort of floral at all.

There were no flowers in that room, except for…

Chase slowly pushed himself off the couch. That white flower… it couldn’t have been…

The last time he saw a flower was in…

“Deacon, can I see the letter?” He didn’t look at his cousin. His eyes were glued to the leg of the coffee table. His mind was more focused on that memory.

“Oh, uh, sure?” Deacon handed over the small letter and magnifying glass. He held the small piece of paper in the palm of his hand. With the magnifying glass held up, he squinted his eyes and leaned in.

The petals looked thin, but as the flower spread out, they grew in thickness. The center of the flower was colored in a light shade of sapphire…

She seemed to be laying down, with white flowers surrounding her, her honey-blonde hair perfectly shaping her face.

White flowers.

“I’ve seen this flower before…”

Deacon turned to Chase with equally wide eyes. “You have?!”

Chase nodded as he looked back at his cousin. “Yeah, at the library! Remember the Archives room with all the stained glass?” He looked back at the letter. Staring at the illustrated flower as he recalled his memory. “One of them had a girl who was laying down. I remember because she was the only one who had her eyes open! And those flowers were the same ones that were laid around her—”

Honey-blonde hair.

‘In her reflection stands a girl with honey-blonde hair.’

She was the only one who had her eyes open.

“It was his way of keeping her memory alive, throughout time and history.”

… Oh my God—

“They were?! That doesn’t make any sense! There’s no documentation of this flower outside of the island. Why would some random library have depictions of it?”

“I think we both know it’s not some random library, Deacon…” Chase whispered as thousands of thoughts rushed through his head. He slowly lifted his gaze to meet Deacon’s. “It’s connected to Ex-Libris.”

Deacon’s eyebrows scrunched together. And his eyes communicated every thought that ran through his head. But he only said one thing.

“How?”

“I… I don’t know…” Chase ran his hand through his hair. “But something about all of this doesn’t make sense! The stained glass, the flowers, the diary contradicting what the keys remember.”

“Not to mention, mom and I can’t read the diary!”

Chase snapped his finger and pointed at his neighbor. “Especially that! That doesn’t make ANY sense! I can’t think of any reason for why. Maybe… maybe it’s under some kind of spell?”

Deacon looked at Chase like he was insane. “A spell?”

“Deacon, we talk to living, walking, talking, breathing keys every day. And up until recently, they also helped us go inside BOOKS. You are the last person to be questioning the existence of magic.”

Despite the outburst, Deacon’s face shifted from annoyance to concern.

“Chase, is everything okay?” Deacon held out a hand, but Chase only shook his head in response.

“Yeah, I’m just,” He took in a deep breath. “just thinking. I’ll tell you later.” He handed the letter back to Deacon before picking up his journal. “Let’s just… focus on the other plants. Even with that connection, it doesn’t help us in finding the island. So, let’s just focus on the ones we found at the library.” He flipped through the pages before he found one that caught his eyes. “Like this one! Lotus Dory… dory… dory…”

“Let me see that.” Deacon had a deadpanned voice as he leaned over and took the journal from Chase. “Lotus Dorycnium.”

“Yeah, that thing. Let’s just… focus on those…”

He tries to push the awful realization he just had aside and turn his attention onto the rest of the floral and plants.

For the next half hour, they flip between multiple journals and Violet’s letter. About half of the flowers Violet listed are unnamed, which is NOT very helpful, so it’s a lot of comparing crudely drawn images to precise and elegantly shaped ones.

And every flower and plant in their notes that gets crossed out in that bright red pen makes Chase want to crumble to the floor. Each plant crossed out, each flower that doesn’t match one listed in the letter makes him hold the tears back. And for every plant they do find a match of fills Chase with something light. And every time just a second later, it’s crushed by yet another plant that doesn’t match.

By the time they wrap up, Chase wishes he could just stay in his room.

He had just finished describing the flower when he put his journal down. “Okay, that’s the last one. Is it a match?”

Please. Please—

Prunella nodded. “Yup! It looks exactly like how Violet drew it. She’s really good at drawing.”

“She is…” Chase responded absently before he turned to Deacon. “Has that helped at all?” He tried not to let the desperation in his chest slip out.

Deacon zoomed out of Google Maps. He sighed as he switched to another tap with a picture of Europe and colored it in a portion of it. He placed his hands on the coffee table and leaned back. “A little bit? Some of the plants seem to originate from Ireland, the UK, France, Spain, and Portugal, and about two are from Norway. So that leaves us with…”

Chase scooted over to the side of the table. He couldn’t help the frustrated groan he let out. “Most of Europe still! Hooray!!” he exclaimed with fake cheeriness that soon transformed into another groan. He let the weight of his head take control and fall over onto the table.

Deacon called out in worry, but Chase couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t even care about his forehead pulsing in pain now.

He just wanted Buddy back. Why was the world making this more difficult than it needed to be?

“Chase, be careful! Don’t hurt yourself!”

Chase turned his head to face his now lopsided cousin. “So, we know the island is located near Europe. A FACT, that we already knew!”

Chase could see the worry in Deacon’s eyes. Guilt pinched him in his chest and consumed his very being. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to say he would be okay, that he would be careful. He wanted to tell Deacon that everything would be fine.

But he also couldn’t lie to Deacon.

He felt a hand gently land on his back. For a moment, he thought it was Deacon. But Chase saw that his cousin’s blue eyes were fixed elsewhere. He lifted his head slightly and turned to the left.

Prunella sat right beside Chase. Her blue eyes filled with worry as her eyebrows furrowed upwards. She looked like she wanted to say something. She tried to say something. But maybe she didn’t know what the best thing would be to say. Because every time she opened her mouth, she closed it back up.

She looked away for a moment before her eyes met with Chase’s again.

“We’ll find them, Chase.”

Chase’s chest shifted. And as Prunella’s small hand ran up and down his back in comforting motions, he felt his breathing turn ragged as his vision blurred. His face scrunched for a moment. He turned back to the table and closed his eyes as he took in the coldness of the surface.

“Thank you, Prunella.”

“I know it doesn’t seem like much,” he heard Deacon’s voice from his left, ”but we were able to knock out about half of Europe. I know it doesn’t look like it, but progress has been made, Chase. We just need to… narrow it down somehow.”

Chase lifted his head. Prunella’s hand stopped moving, but it remained on his back. “How would we even do that?”

Deacon’s hand shaped into a loose fist that rested next to his chin. “We could try looking at Google Maps again. See which islands are around that area, bu—”

“I’m on it!” Chase practically threw himself up and pulled Deacon’s laptop forward. He clicked on the tap with the Maps icon.

“But that would take forever!”

“Well, lucky for you Dorkin, Chase Hollow is on the case!” He zoomed in to the ocean of the map. Between Iceland and Ireland might be a good place to start.

The screen was quickly consumed by blue. He moved the map up but saw no land. He moved to the right and also saw no land. He went to the west and there was STILL no land. He went south and OH MY GOODNESS, MORE BLUE!!

“WHY IS THE OCEAN SO HUGE?!”

“Chase, that is literally what I was trying to tell you!” Deacon’s voice was muffled on account of his face being buried into his hands. He pulled his hands down and slightly tugged on his skin while doing so. “You can’t just zoom into a map and start scrolling in the middle of the ocean!”

“Well then how else are we supposed to learn where the island is?” Chase threw himself back. He momentarily forgot that he wasn’t in front of the couch anymore and almost fell back but caught himself.

“We could try narrowing down the search area again? Maybe we could figure out where the family lived.”

“And how would we even do that, Dorkin?”

“Things like the languages they spoke, how they dressed, even their customs.”

“Good idea Dorkin! Let me just go through your backpack and pull out the photographs they took in the 17^th century with their camera phones!”

“You know, you’re saying a lot for someone who hasn’t grown an inch since middle school.”

“I will pull you into a Russian Tie and throw you!”

“Can you both shut up?! You’re worse than the kindergarteners!”

“He started it!” Chase pointed a finger to Deacon.

“Chase, she’s eight, not our babysitter!”

“It feels like I am.”

Deacon looked like he was going to lose it. “Can we please get on topic? I don’t understand how we keep going from finding the island to cameras, petty insults, coconuts—”

“I want a coconut.”

“CHASE—!"

“Okay, fine! Coconut hater.” Chase held up his hands and patted Deacon’s back. He didn’t need to say anything more. He knew that Deacon knew it was all light-hearted banter.

… Shoot, did Deacon know that—?

“You’re right though, Chase.” Deacon said with a much calmer voice.

“I am? I mean, of course I am.”

“There must be some other way we can learn where they came from. Something with what we already know and have access to. We can’t go back to the library. Not only is it an exhausting trip, it’s also too risky now.”

Chase threw his head back and put all his weight onto his hands. What else could help them learn where the d’Ombrage family was from? They couldn’t read half of the diary, and they didn’t have any portraits of anyone in the family. And even if they did, Chase wouldn’t trust them. He knew from videos that photoshop always existed, even in paintings or drawings.

It had to be something that couldn’t be edited. Something that wouldn’t be edited. Something that not only Marquis wouldn’t change, but possibly his descendants.

Something that was intertwined with the family…

A light bulb went off.

Chase shot forward. “I got it! What about their last names!? Last names can sometimes reveal where someone is from, right?!”

The facepalm Deacon did was so loud that Chase wondered if Deacon gave himself a concussion for a moment.

“How didn’t I think of that?!”

“That was really loud, are you okay?!”

Deacon decided to ignore his cousin’s concern (okay, rude?), and instead preferred to mutter about how he lacked basic common sense for not thinking of such an obvious thing! … His words, not Chase’s.

“Surnames can give insight into a person’s background. Culture, ancestry…” He looked at Chase. “And where they came from!”

“Yeah, that’s literally what I just said Deacon.”

Deacon’s shocked and wide eyes turned into a glare. “I know that! I’m just thinking out loud!”

“Oh, so when you think out loud it’s okay. But when I think out loud, I’m being weird—”

“Can we please get back on topic?” Prunella interrupted with crossed arms.

Deacon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His eyes were wide, and Chase realized they were both thinking the same thing.

“d’Ombrage…” Deacon muttered. “d’Ombrage… I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a surname like that before. Have either of you?”

“I’m eight, what do you think?”

“Deacon, I can’t even pronounce the name right, I kind of doubt it.”

Deacon looked like he was about half a second away from completely losing it. “You’re both making this more difficult than it needs to be,” were his words. They came from Deacon’s mouth. And yet the corner of his mouth tugged slightly upwards.

Chase… couldn’t help but to feel the same. There was something about this conversation, something about this banter that reminded him of all those months ago. When summer had only just begun and Deacon had just met Bronze. When the nights stretched into long discussions about Ex-Libris and who Buddy was. When everything was simpler and lighthearted.

It was not that long ago. And yet it felt nostalgic.

Perhaps it felt that way because Chase knew his world would never be that blissfully innocent and simple again.

“Do you know where ‘d’Ombrage’ could be from?” Chase asked as he tried to tear his mind away from the reality of his life.

Deacon leaned against the couch and crossed his arms. “Honestly? I have no idea. I’ve never heard a name like that before. I can’t tell if it’s Spanish, English, Scottish, or anything.”

“So… is it another dead end?”

Chase wanted Deacon to say no. He wanted those eyes to tell him that there was still hope. But as Deacon turned to Chase, he felt like he was going to throw up.

“Why don’t you guys just look up their last name? Shouldn’t Google say where the name comes from?”

The cousins fell into silence as they both wondered how they could not think of such a simple result of common sense.

“… Prunella, you are a genius,” Chase said, and Prunella nodded in response.

“I’m well aware of that.” Prunella tried to fight a smug grin as she crossed her arms with pride.

Deacon turned to his cousin, “Chase, can you—"

Chase already held his phone out in his hand as he typed in his password, “Already on it!”

He fumbled with his phone, trying to find the Google icon. When he found it, he spent a little too long trying to spell the family’s last name, before resolving to just throw himself across the table and futilely attempted to reach for the diary. Prunella stared at her neighbor as though he just mocked her mother’s accent in an offensive manner. Deacon leaned over gently, before placing the diary into Chase’s hand. He muttered a quiet thank you, flipped to the first page that held the family name, and this time properly typed it into the search bar.

The first result was a video game he once heard of, but it didn’t say anything about a family or the origins of the name. He had to do more searching, it was strange, it was almost as though there was no information about anyone with a name like that. Perhaps Ex-Libris had purged all history of the name, maybe that’s why they had all those cabinets? It took a bit of digging, but he finally found results after maybe fifteen minutes of just scrolling through multiple links, (including the one about the video game that led him into a seven-minute rabbit hole).

“It’s French.”

“French?”

“Yeah, Dorkin, you know, that place with the croissant and the Eiffel Tower?”

“I know what French is, Chase.” Chase had to stifle a laugh at Deacon’s flat voice. “Are there any islands near France?”

“Why are you looking at me?” Prunella questioned and Deacon groaned.

“I don’t know, I’m tired, Prunella.”

Something rustled at the door and Chase quickly turned to the front door. The sound of keys jingling comforted him, but relief didn’t fill him until the door opened and he saw Ralph and Agatha walk in with three boxes of gluten-free pizza.

“We’re back!”

“Welcome back!” Chase called out.

“How’s the research going?” Agatha asked as she took her shoes off.

“Deacon said he’s tired.”

“Prunella!”

“Oh dear, perhaps you both should rest some more, you only slept three hours after all.” The three of watched Agatha walk into the kitchen with a look of concern on her face, “We all just… Learned a lot of information. It is a lot to process.”

“No!” Chase protested as his hands landed on the coffee table, “We’re fine! Right Deacon?”

Deacon, much to Chase’s surprise, nodded. “Yeah, I got more sleep than Chase anyway.” He adjusted the laptop on his lap. “And we’ve made some progress on the island.”

“Well,” Ralph clapped his hands together. “I say we put this all on pause and eat.”

“But Grandpa—!” Chase protested.

“Nope! It’s been a long day. And you kids need some sort of break. It’s lunch time, and no discussion over the island during lunch. You need to rest your mind.”

“But—”

“Charlie.”

Chase groaned as he picked himself up from the floor and dragged himself over to the kitchen. While the smell of the pizza brought him great comfort, he couldn’t help but wish Buddy was next to him.

Chapter Text

The pizza was good, although Chase only managed to eat a slice and a half. Deacon wasn’t all that hungry either.

He didn’t want to rush everyone, but he couldn’t help but bounce his knee as he waited for everyone else to finish eating. There was a slight pang in his head. It wasn’t painful--it was quite subtle. But it was just strong enough that Chase faintly felt it pulsing against his skull.

It was Ralph who spoke first. “Charles, I know you’re anxious, but it’s important to use this time to relax.”

Chase tried to heed his grandfather’s words, he truly did. But against his wishes, his knee continued to bounce. “I know, I’m trying! It’s just,” he ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “I just feel… anxious? Stir-crazy? I don’t know.”

How would he word this? He felt like he was going crazy. He knew he needed to rest. He knew that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to be much help. But every moment he spent trying to rest was filled with guilt. A voice in the back of his brain asked how could dare he rest when God knew what was happening to Buddy. Every moment he spent resting instead of researching felt like he was betraying Buddy. It felt almost as though he was wasting his time--precious time that they did not have a lot of. They didn’t even know how Ex-Libris found Nox and Violet. So, there was no way to prevent them from doing the same with Silver and the rest of her siblings.

There was so much in his head. And yet nothing at all. Every bit of distraction led back to Buddy. Every dust of glitter he saw reminded him of Violet. He didn’t want to rush his family and friends. He didn’t.

But he knew they didn’t have much time. And the longer they spent sitting here researching, the more time Ex-Libris had to do what they please with Nox and Violet.

He was angry. He was heartbroken. He was anxious.

He was every bit of emotion balled up and condescend and carved into one being of emotion.

And it scared him.

But he couldn’t tell his family that. He couldn’t make them worry about him more than they already do.

He couldn’t do that to them.

“I’m… sorry. I know it feels like I’m rushing everyone. I don’t want to. I’d leave the room but…” Chase’s words came to a halt before he muttered, “I don’t want to be alone right now.”

He doesn’t see Deacon’s expression. But Chase hears the worry in his cousin’s voice. “You’re not rushing us, Chase.” It’s soft and kind… it reminds Chase of those first days after his dad died. “I don’t know about everyone else, but I’m done eating.”

Prunella chirped up. “Me too!”

Chase had just turned to face the group to see Agatha nod in agreement. “Ralph?”

Ralph only sighed and nodded. “I was just about to take my plate to the sink anyway.”

Chase couldn’t tell if it was true or not.

Regardless, Ralph stood up and gathered everyone’s plates and placed them in the sink. Deacon took his seat back in front of his laptop. Prunella took her spot next to Chase, while Mrs. G. took a seat on the couch.

Ralph came over to the living room and sat down with a quiet groan. “So, boys,” he cleared his throat, ”catch us up.”

Chase and Deacon looked at each other and nodded. Deacon told them about where the search area was narrowed down to, while Chase told them about how the d’Ombrage family had origins in France, along with the flowers they suspected were native to the island. Though, when he tried to bring up coconuts Deacon threw a pillow at him.

“Undiscovered flowers…” the words were gently whispered from Agatha’s mouth. “Is there any way we can learn anything else about these plants? Like the conditions they can grow in? Temperatures? Things like that?”

Deacon shook his head. “No, we can’t find any information about them anywhere. We considered a book, but…"”

“It wouldn’t be safe to return to that library?” Ralph suggested, and Deacon nodded in response.

“Yeah. And… I don’t want to risk any of us going there as well. Not after what happened last night.”

Ralph grumbled in that classic way all grandfathers do. “What else?”

Chase sat up. Finally! Something he can actually help with! “We learned the d’Ombrage family was French! So that means they must have lived near France!”

“Not necessarily.”

Everyone turned to Agatha. She was fidgeting with her hands. “Just because they were French doesn’t mean that they lived in France.” She looked up to everyone in the living room. “Not to mention that we don’t know where they lived when they found the keys. So, they could have lived anywhere.”

Chase felt that hopeful feeling in his chest fell. And Agatha must have seen it happen, because she continued speaking. “I’m not saying that’s the case, I’m not even entirely sure of it myself. I’m just saying that it’s something we should consider.”

The attempt to reassure and comfort him was nice, but it did little to soothe his worries. Chase only nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“We could try asking the keys?” Prunella suggested but Deacon shook his head in response.

“Ruby would have told us where they lived by now. If not them, then one of the others would have.”

“Are we sure they would have?”

The question itself was not jarring or shocking. Truthfully, it was a fair and logical one.

What was shocking, was the fact that the question came from Chase. His eyebrows were furrowed lightly and his lower lip slightly pushed up. There was that hopeful look in his eyes still, a hope that he was wrong. But there was no denying that the look of doubt was also there.

“Silver didn’t tell us about Mathilda, or even the d’Ombrage family in general.” Chase lowered his eyes as a rush of guilt for even doubting Silver in the first place washed over him. “I don’t… I don’t want to think she would lie to us... But…”

“Chase.” Chase rose his eyes to meet dark blue ones as Deacon stared back at him with a reassuring face. He hesitated for a moment before he gently held Chase’s shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze. “I think they would tell us. Everything about Mathilda… looked like it was a sore spot for them. Maybe they didn’t want to relieve the memories? I don’t know, I really don’t.”

Deacon paused for a moment. Chase could tell he was thinking through his words before he spoke. “I think… logically… they might have just thought it wouldn’t have benefitted us to finding Buddy and Violet. Because when you look at everything we’ve learned, you have to admit, it doesn’t help us find the island. I hate to admit it, but we’re no closer to finding the island right now than we were when we left for the library.”

Chase looked away from Deacon, he had to. He couldn’t look his cousin in the eyes anymore as tears welled up. He didn’t want to believe that. He didn’t want to believe that after everything, reading for hours, travelling for hours, pulling an all-nighter, being chased, committing a crime—

He didn’t want to believe it was all for nothing. That despite it all, despite everything they learned, it was not helpful for what they needed to find.

It had to be, it just had to be! There had to be a reason why he heard a ringing in his head (or was it his ears? Oh God, did he have Tinnitus? He wouldn’t be surprised, wait, no, get back on topic, Chase!) in the archives room, there had to be a reason why he felt so weird in that library, why they were chased into a forest!

Why were the authorities never called? They stayed in that tree for a while, but they never once heard a single siren. They never saw a single officer. There was nothing.

There was something there. Chase knew there was! He felt it in his chest. There had to be a reason for all of this. Even if the keys didn’t know where the d’Ombrage family lived, that didn’t mean Chase couldn’t figure it out.

A familiar boy with dark hair appears in his mind. He stares back at Chase with a fond look in his eyes and cheeky grin.

No.

This wasn’t for nothing.

There was something here to learn. Something they could use. And Chase was going to find it.

He had to.

“No.”

“What?” Chase missed how Deacon’s eyes went wide.

“No. There’s something here! I know there is! Mathilda and her family’s lineage may not help us find the island, but there’s no denying the language used in the diary, or the origins of their name!” Chase gripped at the center of his shirt as though he could hold his heart. “The pieces are here! I know they are! We just… we need to figure out how they all fit together! Maybe…” The gears in his head started to turn as Chase tried to figure out how to word his thoughts. “Maybe we don’t need to know exactly where they lived. I think… as long as we get an idea of where they lived, we might be able to find a general area of the island!”

Deacon stared back at Chase like his cousin just grew two heads. “Don’t look at me like that!” Chase defended. “I can be smart too!”

“No one said you weren’t!” Chase saw Deacon’s shoulders relax as a hand went to his face. Good. A relaxed Deacon is far better than a stressed Deacon.

“I would like to point out that if they were from France, then they probably spoke French. And that might be what the diary is written in.”

“… Prunella, you are a genius.”

“This has already been established.” Prunella said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Okay!” Chase clapped his hands together. “So, half of the diary was written in French… probably. I think we should look up words like ‘island’ and ‘keys’ in French first and then look for those words in the diary. Not only to get information about the location of the island, but also just to make sure that it is written in French.”

“Don’t you want to know what the diary says though?” Agatha asked with a tilt to her head.

“I think at this point it’s a lot less important to know what he said, as it is to just make sure its French.”

Chase nodded. “Exactly Grandpa!”

“I’ll look up a translator for French then.” Deacon pulled out his phone. A thought then occurred to Chase, and he crawled over to his cousin.

“Wait.” Chase held Deacon’s arm. “What type of translator do we use?”

Deacon gave Chase a confusing look. “What do you mean?”

“Well.” Chase glanced at everyone else in the room and decided to lower his voice. “Mrs. G. and Prunella couldn’t read it. It was classic ye olde English, you know? But for us, it was modern day, like how we talk.” Chase gestured between the two of them.

“Oh.” Deacon said in realization.

“Yeah oh! What do we do?”

“Oh, so we’re just glossing over the fact that Mrs. G. and Prunella are reading something completely different than us?”

“It doesn’t help us, Dorkin!” Chase hissed through his teeth. “There’s no point in trying to figure out why."

"But asking about Mathilda does?”

Chase leaned away from his cousin as his eyes scanned him up and down. “What’s your problem dude?”

“My problem? Chase, you just did a complete 180 not even five minutes ago!”

“I know, just—” Chase cupped his hands and placed them over his head. He felt his hands run over his face. His skin felt greasy and as he ran his fingers through the strands of his hair, he felt a gross, wet feeling. He pulled his hand out of his hair, tangled strands pulled against his scalp, but he could hardly recognize the light burn and tug. He brought his hand to his gaze and his fingertips shined with oil.

Chase wanted to laugh almost. He used to never go for more than two days without washing his hair.

He can’t remember the last time he washed it.

“I’m sorry.” He could vaguely recognize how desperate his voice sounds. “I just…” He sniffled. “I feel like we’ve wasted so much time. I don’t know why—I don’t…” He let his head fall and he stared at his hands. “I feel like I’m on a timer. Every waking moment I feel like the seconds are ticking away.” He rose his head and met Deacon’s worried gaze. He held his hands on the side of his head as he tried to find his wording. “I just… I feel like the world is enclosing on my head. There’s this fog, and I can’t think of anything else but him. No matter what I do, no matter what I’m talking about, I keep thinking back to Nox.”

Chase sniffed his nose. He held his chin up and he blinked back the tears. “I’m sorry. For everything. I… I’ll tell you everything when I feel… Just a tiny bit okay. I promise.”

“You… you don’t have to promise anything, Chase.” He felt a warm hand be place over his. It was Deacon’s hand. “When you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Chase wanted to thank him. To hug him and sob into his shoulder as he cried about how painful everything had been. But as he sat there, he couldn’t form the words. He couldn’t convey the tightness in his chest or the dream he had during his nap. He couldn’t convey the tired, vaguely sore feeling in his eyes.

So instead, he only nodded.

—

“I got it!” Deacon’s voice rang through the room as he glanced up and nodded “It’s French!” “The other language is French!”

Chase clapped and turned back to everyone. “We have a go for French!” As soon as the words left his mouth the group blew up in discussion. He crawled back over to the coffee table. “So, they at least spoke French and English. Which means they likely lived in a place that either spoke French or English.”

“It could have also been a place that spoke both, Agatha pointed out.

“Were there even any places back then that spoke both?”

“I can look it up!” Deacon called and turned back to his laptop. He began typing quickly.

Ralph nodded. “Good idea, do that.”

“So, we know England and France for sure,” Chase muttered.

Prunella held a hand up. “What about the U.S.?”

Chase shook his head. “No, Marquis had mentioned talking to a king. And the way he worded it didn’t sound like he had to travel through the ocean to speak to him.”

Deacon held up his arm as he read from his laptop. “England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland all spoke English. In addition to the New Colonies of course,” Deacon craned his neck a bit to look at the group, “but they’re not important right now. And like Chase said, Marquis had to speak to a king. It also looks like French became the most important language in terms of diplomacy.” Deacon looked at everyone with eyes wondering if he did okay.

Ralph nodded to his grandson. “So, they likely lived in England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, or France.”

Prunella cringed. “That’s too many places.”

“Maybe.” Agatha rubbed Prunella’s back. “But they’re all roughly in the same area. So, I don’t think it will affect us that much.”

“And besides!” Chase added as he leaned over the coffee table. “That already narrows our search area just a tiny bit!”

“Maybe they just stayed in France?” Deacon suggested.

Chase countered, “But the diary I found was only written in English, so wouldn’t that mean that they lived somewhere that speaks English?”

“Yes, I agree,” Chase turned to Mrs. G, “They could have had origins in France, but maybe they moved somewhere else before the island?”

Ralph’s hand moved from his chin to point. “Or, they could have lived in France, spoke French, but wrote the diaries in English to prevent outsiders from understanding its contents? We did that a lot in the army by using shorthand.”

“Unless shorthand or any other language is selective, that doesn’t explain why mom and I can’t read it.” Prunella rested her chin in her hands.

Deacon sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “I don’t know, Prun. Maybe it’s some spell?”

“Oh, now you think it’s a spell.” Chase crossed his arms and tried not to let his annoyance slip. But he apparently failed to do so as Deacon responded.

“You’re still on about that?! Chase, this isn’t the time!”

Chase rolled his eyes as he slouched against the couch. Deacon looked like he wanted to say more, but chose not to, and instead returned his attention back to the group.

“Besides,” Deacon continued, “Silver said that Mathilda spoke different languages. And I doubt Marquis would only teach one of his children another language.”

“What does that have to do with where they lived?” Chase asked and he vaguely recognized the bitterness in his tone.

He couldn’t tell if Deacon heard it as well.

“Because then that increases the chance that they might have spoken languages from certain countries and didn’t even live in said country.” Deacon turned to Ralph and Agatha. “They could have known, say, Spanish. But just because some of them knew Spanish, doesn’t mean they lived in Spain.”

“So, this is just another dead end?!” Chase tried not to let despair fill and take control of him.

“Not necessarily,” Deacon said quickly, like as though he jumped over to a glass cup to catch it before it fell. “I think we should keep our main attention on French and English. They were obviously French at the very least. And even if the kids weren’t born in France, we know for sure they have origins to the country.” Deacon picked the diary back up and began to skim through it. “I could try to see if there’s any mention of customs, traditions, sayings, really anything that can be connected back to their culture. And I can try to use that information to see if we can find a general idea of where they lived.”

“And how long would that even take?!”

There was a hint of annoyance in Deacon’s eyes and his mouth made a dumb gesture in search for words. “I don’t know, Chase. I can’t even read half of this thing without a translator!”

“Alright you two, that’s enough, both of you need to calm down,” Ralph’s voice called out to his grandsons. “Now, I know it’s been a rough few hours, but there is no reason for both of you to be lashing out like this.” Chase watched his grandfather stand up and make his way over to him and Deacon. His expression still held that same sternness as it always held, but this time there was a hint of softness. He placed one hand on Chase’s shoulder and the other on Deacon’s shoulder. “You’ve both done a lot. I can handle researching the family’s customs and traditions.”

“Do you even know how to work a computer—” The comeback instinctively left Chase’s mouth and GOD, did he wish he could take it back.

“Don’t speak to your grandfather like that, boy! I can still put you over my knee!”

“Grandpa, we’re literally grown adults!” Deacon argued with a tired but playful look in his eyes.

“And? Don’t make me call Kowalski!” The words were stern, but they held a light hearted tone in them.

A cheerful and light laugh filled the room which made everyone turn to Agatha. “Now, now, everyone!” There was a calming smile on her face as she waved her hands. “Let’s not fight. If Ralph needs any help, I can help him.”

“But…” Deacon watched helplessly as Ralph gently took his laptop. “But, I’m not tired!”

Chase nodded hastily. “Ditto!”

Mrs. G’s face softened as her eyes held care and love. “Boys, we’re not saying you two can’t help. You’ve both done so much. But…” She gently reached for the diary and picked it up. “It’s time to let the adults handle these things.” She looked at the boys with a look of fondness and care. Her eyebrows scrunched and Chase swore he saw her eyes glisten. She looked away from the boys. “I can only imagine what you have read. Having to be exposed to such harsh cruelties of the world.” When she looked back at them her eyes carried something fierce. “It is not a burden you two should have to carry, so let us take care of it.”

“But… I…” But it was so much more than that! He was eighteen! He didn’t care if whatever bit of innocence he had was stolen. He didn’t care if he had to sacrifice a part of himself! He was an adult too! He just wanted Buddy home. He wanted this done and over with. He wanted his mom to be healthy again. Was something so wrong with wanting that? Was something wrong with wanting to fight for that? To fight for the life his mom and Buddy deserved to live?

He looked at Agatha’s face. And maybe a part of her was able to read those thoughts. Was able to see it in his eyes. Because her face scrunched in worry and pain. And she swallowed a lump in her throat as her eyes glistened softly. She didn’t say anything except simply place her hands on his shoulders softly.

Chase felt something swirling and build in his chest. It threatened to crawl up from his throat and spill through his eyes. Mrs. G was always so kind… She practically knew both Chase and Deacon from the day they were both born. Despite her tendencies to ramble on and sometimes give just a little too much. She loved fully and wholeheartedly.

She reminded Chase a lot of his mom. He’ll never forget her hug the day his dad died. Or her gluten free cookies when she found out about his mom.

He remembered the hug she gave him, Deacon, and Prunella the day she and Ralph found out about the keys. She was still upset, she was hurt, she was sick with worry for them to be doing something so risky and dangerous.

And yet, even then, she made enough room to care for and love.

Even now, through her worry and stress, through her anger of the boys almost got hurt, she looked at Chase with love and care. She looked at him as though he was family.

So, what more could Chase do but sigh? “Okay.”

Agatha smiled at the boys and stood up. She gestured to Ralph to follow her out of the room and into the kitchen. She kneeled over to Prunella. “Sweetheart, do you think you can check on the keys and see if they need anything?”

Prunella looked as though she wanted to argue. But in the end, she only nodded and went to the hallway. She looked… down. She didn’t exactly look sad per-say, but there was a weight on her shoulders. A weight that shouldn’t be there. A weight that she shouldn’t have to carry.

Prunella was a child. And she deserved to live her childhood freely. Just like Mathilda and Colette…

Did Chase steal away Prunella’s childhood? Did he bring her childhood to an early end? He just wanted one wish. He didn’t mean for all of this to happen—

“Chase?”

His name brought him back to the world. Chase looked at Deacon. “Oh, sorry dude. What?”

“I said that there’s gotta be something else we can do. I can’t just sit here and do nothing. It doesn’t… it doesn’t feel right.”

Something about Deacon’s words made Chase feel somewhat normal. A part of him thought that maybe it was because he felt the same way. And if Deacon shared those feelings, then maybe Chase wasn’t crazy.

The other part was guilt. Guilt for dragging Deacon into this. Guilt for placing so much pressure on Deacon.

Chase pushed the thoughts away. “Maybe there’s something else we can research? Like the family! And I don’t mean their culture. I mean like, the actual family!”

“Yeah, but you’ve already looked up their last names. And if they didn’t appear as a result, then I doubt there’s anything about them online.”

“What about those files on Evrarad? Maybe they’ll help?”

Deacon sighed and shook his head. “Everything on those files is stuff Silver told us.” He ran a hand through his hair. “The day he was born. Where he was during the attack. Isabel’s death. It’s all things we already know.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “And I’m sure Ruby and everyone else have told us everything that can be useful. And besides, I…” He looked out to the hall. “I don’t want to make them remember any other painful memories.”

Chase sighed as he allowed gravity to take over and fell to the floor with a soft thud. “Maybe… maybe there’s someone we know who knew them?” he left his first thought spill onto his tongue and out into the world.

Deacon scrunched his nose. “What?”

Chase pushed himself up and had his hands support his weight. “I don’t know, man. Like, say if something happened to me—”

Deacon narrowed his eyes, and his voice turned dark. “Chase—"

Oh crap, not like that. “Not that I’m planning to do anything!” Chase added quickly. “But let’s just say something happened to me. Not even anything bad! Like… like Buddy and I are getting married!” He heard Deacon laugh and that scowl turned into a soft smile. “Well, someone like Ana wouldn’t really know that this is happening. Unless she ran into, let’s say… Danielle! And somehow, they started talking about weddings! Then Danielle would bring up that I’m getting married, and that would be how Ana would find out!” Chase reached over and grabbed Deacon by his shoulders. “People know people, Dorkin! Look, dude, I know that doesn’t make sense, but think of it like this: Relationships are like a web! Buddy’s never met mom, but he knows who she is because of me! Maybe we know someone who knew Mathilda and her family!”

“I…” Deacon smiled. “I think I understand what you’re saying!”

“See!”

“There’s just one problem.”

“Wuz-zat?”

“Mathilda and her family died almost three-hundred years ago. And I seriously doubt that there’s anyone alive right now that knew them. Unless they wished for immortality?”

Chase shook his head. “No, Buddy told me that there were strict rules about what can and can’t be wished for. Immortality was one of them. At most, they could only use Narratonin to keep themselves healthy. But that wouldn’t last for long. At some point, their bodies would grow too weak, and they would… well, their bodies will just give up on them.”

Deacon sighed and leaned against the couch. “See? And considering how Buddy spoke about how secretive they were, I doubt they interacted much with anyone outside of the island.”

“Unless…” Chase grunted softly as the gears in his brain were turning. “If they died almost three-hundred years ago… And if we’re alive then that means our ancestors lived…” Chase shot up and his back straightened. “Shot in the dark, maybe one of our ancestors knew them?”

“That—” Deacon began to argue, but then he paused, his hand went to his chin in thought, “That… Might not be a bad idea. I mean, it’s unlikely, but—”

Chase’s eyes sparkled with hope. “But not impossible!”

Deacon’s gaze met Chase’s. And his blue eyes mirrored that same look that was in Chase’s eyes. “Yes!” Deacon turned to the entryway of the living room. Where he saw Ralph and Agatha sitting at the dining table. “Grandpa, I know it’s unlikely, but do we have anything about our ancestors? Like, from the 17^th century?”

Ralph looked up from the laptop. “You mean from the 1600s?”

Deacon nodded with a hum. “Yeah! I mean I know it’s unlikely, especially because it was so long ago, but—”

But Ralph didn’t allow his grandson to finish speaking. Instead, he pushed his chair out and stood tall. Chase couldn’t read his face.

“Follow me.”

—

Chase was very much unaware that they had a third attic in the house. Because who the hell has a third attic in their home?! Let alone two?!

It was a bit smaller than the tower above Chase’s room, and definitely smaller than Deacon’s room. Much like Deacon’s room, it only had one small circular window. But that window was enough to bring in some of the summer heat inside. The room itself was already unbearably humid. To make matters worse, the air conditioning didn’t reach up here, and the window’s lack of curtains certainly didn’t help.

The room was almost pure wood. And while Chase was able to stand straight in the room, Deacon and Ralph had to slouch just a tiny bit to avoid a bruise to the head via a wood panel. In the corner was a small but bulky green and black fan. The first thing Ralph did once he got in was turn it on. And it was like someone flipped on the AC.

Chase sighed as he fanned himself with his jacket. He knew it would be better to take it off, but he couldn’t bring himself to. It was the first thing he put on once he and Deacon got home. And it felt like an old friend giving you a warm and familiar hug.

It gave him a false sense of security.

Ralph had been moving some boxes for a few minutes. When he found the one he had been searching for, he lifted it up. Deacon and Chase tried to help him, but Ralph refused. “It was only a matter of time before we told you boys about this. But it’s now or never.” He said it so casually, yet his words held a giant weight. It made Chase wonder if his grandfather was about to tell him and Deacon that everyone in their families were actually international super spies. Or secret pop stars—OH like Hannah Montanna! Oh, please say that Chase was descended from great fame and stardom!

Ralph turned around and groaned as he set the container down with a loud thud. It wasn’t that big but it certainly wasn’t tiny. It was one of those large blue storage bins. It was nearly half the size of Chase! … Not that that meant anything bad about Chase’s height, of course. In that case, maybe it was actually considered a small storage bin since Chase wasn’t THAT short.

Chase’s ears started ringing. Ugh, his tinnitus must be acting up again.

“Grandpa… what is this?” Chase looked at his grandfather with confusion.

“This boys,” Ralph pulled off the lid with a loud creak and a soft thump from downstairs. “are heirlooms.” A gasp escaped from Chase as the contents of the bin were revealed.

In it laid neatly packaged items and carefully stacked wooden boxes. There were stacks of pages carefully sealed in a plastic bag. Photographs are stacked in another plastic see-through bag. There was a photobook in one of the corners in light yellows and browns. In the center of the cover was a photo of his grandmother and grandfather when they were much younger. One corner held a stack of books. One had a monochrome cover of an older man with a long beard somberly looking to the side. Another one had a young girl staring directly at the audience with a golden necklace of a star. Another book seemed to be a combination of the Iliad and the Odyssey. Another book showed a man with dark curly hair, a woman stood next to him with long fiery red hair. They were both dressed in outfits that resembled Ancient Greece.

‘Looks like one of our ancestors was really into Greek Mythology.’ Chase thought.

There were other trinkets and items in it. Like a hairbrush, an old looking camera, jewelry, all sorts of items. Chase’s head pulsed a bit, but he brushed it off as Ralph continued speaking. “These items have been passed down from our family from generation to generation. All the way back to our progenitor. Or in other words, the founders of the Hollow name.”

Ralph turned around to grab something. Chase leaned towards the storage bin. Heirlooms… for decades, maybe even centuries. He reached forward into the box to grab a small wooden box.

“Generations of our family…?” A loud smack filled the air. “OW! Grandpa! What was that for!?”

“Don’t touch anything with your bare hands!” Ralph huffed as he placed a box of gloves in front of the boys. “You need to wear gloves.”

Chase turned to Deacon. His cousin raised a confused eyebrow at their grandfather. “Gloves?”

Ralph nodded. “Yes. A lot of these things are old. There’s a token from practically every single Hollow that has ever lived.”

Holy crap! That’s like, well, Chase isn’t sure exactly how many people in his family have lived and died before him. But he knows that it’s a lot! Stuff from the people who founded his family name?! What if they find ancient cave drawings?! Or an old Victorian locket?! What if something from his great-grandparents is in here?! Or—

A soft smile on him, the blond hair he and Chase shared glowing in the sunlight.

Chase looked back up at Ralph. His words came out desperate and quick. “Grandpa, does that mean—”

“Yes, Charlie.” Ralph’s expression softened. “Your father left something in here as well. In that wooden box you were going to grab.”

Chase held out his hands. “Can I see a glove, please?”

“Yes, just be careful.” He pulled out two gloves from the box and handed them over to Chase, who took them eagerly. “The deeper you go into that container, the older the items get. And when you put things back, make sure you put them back neatly. And don’t take those gloves off. It’s how we’ve kept everything in here preserved for so long.”

Chase snatched the gloves from his grandfather’s hands. He mumbled an apology as he fumbled with the glove.

“Grandpa, how…” Deacon thought through his words for a moment. He glanced at Chase who was stumbling to put on latex gloves. “how do you have all of this? How is it even passed down? Why didn’t Uncle George or Dad get it?”

“It’s not passed down in a traditional sense. Not by the oldest male or the oldest child. It’s more like… who’s the most reliable, and who’s willing to take care of such delicate items.” A small smile began to form on his face. Chase paused with his glove and looked at his grandfather. He heard a soft thump somewhere in the room. “I only have it because your grandmother wanted it.” His expression softened upon reminiscing on the memory. “Boy, she fought tooth and nail for this. Well, more like she thought she would have to fight tooth and nail. But my parents,” he pointed to his grandsons, “your great-grandparents, trusted her deeply. They thought no one better to entrust such an important part of our history with.” His gaze fell back to that storage bin. There was no mistaking the fondness in his eyes. It was clear that this bin was more than just a box filled with old items. It held memories. It held the last bit of his own parents and his grandparents. People that Chase had only ever heard stories of and seen in black and white photographs. It held his wife; Chase’s grandmother.

It carried the parts of his life that he had said goodbye to years ago. It carried proof that so many people were here, and that they existed.

That they lived.

Ralph seemed to move from the memories of the past and looked towards his grandsons. He smiled. “And one day, if either of you want to, it may go to one of you.”

There was another thump, a little louder this time. But it didn’t interrupt Chase’s thoughts. He looked back at the bin with a wonderous look. He never imagined something like this was here. Centuries of his family’s belongings were here. Oh God, what if what of their spirits were attached to one of these items? Chase really hoped he hadn’t been living with ghosts the past few years.

And yet… this container. One day, Chase would place something that was dear to him in this bin. To serve as proof that he was here, that he existed. He wasn’t sure about Deacon, but part of Chase wanted to keep the bin. He wanted to be the one to take care of it. Though, if he was being honest, he didn’t know if he could properly take care of such delicate items.

There was so much here. Chase had never met his great-grandparents, and yet, looking at this box filled with items, he felt closer to them than he ever had. A part of his father was in here.

A wave of emotion crashed into Chase. He felt something wet begin to well up in his eyes. He felt his bottom lip quiver as his words sounded like thin glass ready to crack. “Grandpa, I—”

A loud deep chorus of banging came from downstairs. It was muffled but it was loud enough to reach them all the way up in the attic. The three men whipped their heads around. Something sickening filled Chase’s chest.

Maybe it was nothing? Maybe it was just Prunella playing, or Mrs. G. dropped something. It couldn’t have been, no. It couldn’t. Chase and Deacon were careful. More than careful, they stayed up all night just to make sure they were safe! They didn’t miss anything.

The loud thumping continued. But this time it was joined by soft steps as someone quickly climbed up the ladder to the attic. Chase wondered if he had just felt his heart stop.

But a red tuff of hair popped into view, and a small bit of relief filled his heart for a moment. But it only lasted for that moment, for Prunella held wide eyes and a worried look.

Prunella glanced at Chase, then at Deacon, and then at Ralph.

“Someone’s at the door.”

Chapter Text

Chase can’t hear anything and yet everything is too loud. He can’t understand what his grandpa is saying to him. He can’t make sense of the words Deacon is whispering to Prunella in haste before she runs down the stairs. He wants to tell her to go slowly and to be careful. But he can’t find his words.

He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He keeps sucking in air but it’s not enough. He sees Mrs. G run around downstairs. He vaguely heard Ralph tell Deacon something in a muffled voice. He watched as Prunella ran back up the stairs with a large box in her arms.

He misses the worried look on Silver’s face.

The corners of his vision darkened, and Chase felt like he couldn’t see anything. He watched Ralph run down the stairs. He felt his shoulder shake and Chase turned his head to see Deacon. He held a worried look, and he said something to him. But Chase couldn’t understand a single word that was spoken.

Chase turned his gaze back down the stairs. His eyes met his grandfather’s, who now stood at the bottom of the stairs and brought a finger to his lips. Asking everyone to be quiet. But before he could look through the peephole, a loud thunderous knock rattled through the hall.

“Chase? Deacon? Mr. Hollow? Anyone home?”

That voice…

Chase knew that voice.

He didn’t know how he heard it. But it didn’t matter because he knew that voice.

It was Simon.

Simon was here.

But why would Simon be hereeeeeeee—ohhhhhhhhhhhhh mY GOD—

Chase’s hands flew to his head. “Oh crap!”

“What?” Deacon asked urgently.

“I forgot, I told Simon yesterday that I was going to call him when I get home!”

The sound of a disappointed cousin face-palming filled the room. “Chase!”

Chase rushed down the stairs, but he did his best to make his steps light and quiet. He ran over to Ralph and held his hands out. “I’m so sorry, grandpa! I’ll take care of this!”

Chase walked past his grandfather and to the door. As he reached his hand out for the knob, he felt Ralph lean down. His voice turned hushed and quiet.

“Are you sure we can trust them?”

It was such a simple sentence, such simple words. It was such a short phrase.

And yet it made Chase’s blood run cold. It made him freeze in place as every atom in his body was turned into ice. His hand was held in the air, and he could see it shaking very softly. His mouth felt dry, and his chest felt so tight that Chase wondered how he was able to breathe.

Not trust Simon and Ross? He never…

He never doubted trusting them. He could never doubt those two. They’ve… they’ve been with him through everything. The first day of high school, the first time Chase had his heart broken. Simon, Ross and Danielle were outside his door the day his dad died. Simon and Ross were right next to him when Chase got the call about his mom. Danielle drove him to the hospital. Through everything, every single worst point of his life, those three were there.

He couldn’t… he couldn’t not trust them. He…

… But he also didn’t know if they were connected to Ex-Libris.

But he couldn’t just… not trust them. It went beyond keeping secrets from his friends, beyond avoiding them, beyond trying to keep them self. Chase felt that not trusting was like… like he was turning his back on them. Like he was betraying every single thing they had all gone through.

To him, it felt as though he was setting every fiber and atom of their relationship ablaze.

He wanted to trust them. But he didn’t have to tell them the truth.

He couldn’t get them involved.

“I’ll handle this.” Was all he said to Ralph in the end before he pulled the door open.

Sunlight filled the room, and Chase did his best not to squint. “Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii~”

Simon’s grey eyes were a major clash against the bright sun and green bushes. His eyes were half-lidded, and his brows were pushed into a scowl. “You didn’t call.”

WOW, okay, that was a blunt question and voice if Chase had ever heard one.

Ross seemed to agree. “Simon, man, you gotta transition into it slowly!”

Simon looked at Ross as though he spoke in a foreign language. “Why would I? He said he would call, and he didn’t call.”

Okay, Chase, think, try to save this. “Yeahhh, sorry about that man.” He rubbed the back of his neck. He heard footsteps behind him and saw Deacon appear next to him in the corner of his eye. Simon and Ross greeted him. “I was just… real busy.” Being chased and traumatized and all that fun stuff. “Wait—how did you even know I was home?”

Simon held up his phone, which was opened to a map and an icon with Chase’s profile picture on Snapchat. “Dude, you haven’t turned off your Snapchat location since the 7^th grade.”

Well.

Shoot.

“Ohhhhhhh.” Chase laughed nervously as he glanced over at Deacon for a moment. Chase was positive his cousin was trying to set him on fire with his eyes.

Okay, Chase, think. This isn’t… so bad. Yeah, no, this is fine. Deacon is totally not going to tackle him and scold him later for not turning off his snapchat location when they needed to stay off the map yesterday. Yeah, no, this is completely fine. Chase can take control of this. He just needed to get them to leave.

“Well, uh, yup!” Chase grinned. “I’m home now, man! So, I will uh, see you lat—”

“Are you avoiding us?” Simon’s words were blunt and quick.

‘Curse me for having such wonderful and kind friends!’ Chase cried internally.

“Simon! Don’t just corner him!” Ross scolded his friend.

Simon turned to Ross with dead-panned eyes. “Ross, I’m not just going to do some meaningless small talk about the weather when he has eyes.” He turned back to Chase with a scowl, but there was clear worry in his eyes, he sighed. “I don’t want to corner you, Chase, I’m just worried. The last time you did something like this was when…”

‘… My dad died.’

Chase felt something in his chest turn a little hollow. He remembered his dad smiling during one of their last few conversations. He rolled his lips in as he sniffled. He did his best to hold his tears back in.

The scowl slipped away from Simon’s face. His eyebrows furrowed and he pushed his lips together. He swallowed as his eyes glistened. “I don’t know what happened, but I’m worried about you. And I’m here when you need someone to talk to.”

‘But I can’t talk to you. I can’t risk you, Ross, or Danielle like that.’

‘I can’t drag you three into this like I did with Prunella.’

The words climb through his throat, the stand on his tongue trying to push his mouth open. They’re so close to being a reality. To being confessed and confessed to the world. He wants to say them so badly.

But he doesn’t.

Chase didn’t say anything, and Simon sighed. He ran a hand through his hair, he clearly didn’t know what else to say.

“Why don’t we all go out to Sugar Shack?” Chase looked up to see Ross standing next to Simon. He held a kind smile as his blue eyes gazed back at Chase. Ross had had bright brown hair, to the point where it almost looked like a dark shade of orange at times. “Deacon can come too!” He gestured to Deacon for a moment. That kind and friendly smile never left. “I haven’t seen you since the party, man. And I think we could all spend some time together in a peaceful environment. Danielle can’t make it though.” Ross rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “She’s visiting her grandmother today.”

The acceptance almost fell from his lips. But he felt a tug on his sleeve. He didn’t look at Deacon, didn’t turn to him. But he knew it was him.

“Oh, uh, sorry not… not right now. I uh—”

He heard Simon sigh. “Nope.” Chase felt a hand wrap around his wrist. He looked at Simon who held a determined look in his eye. Which was usually a good thing. But in this context, it was AWFUL, because Simon may be lazy. But when he really wants something, he doesn’t stop until he gets it.

And it looks like right now; it’s getting Chase out of the house.

“We’re going. Come on.”

“Uh, wait, no, Simon—“

Shoot. What does he do? He can’t think of another way out of this. Everything he says Simon shoots down. He can’t even go out into public. Well, he’s not sure he can. He’s pretty sure he can’t. It’s not safe. They don’t even know who chased him and Deacon last night. For all Chase knows they could be in town right now. They could live in Sugar Springs. And Chase’s hair is far too iconic and rememberable to be risked being seen out in public! He was trying not to start hyperventilating again. But he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to stop this. He—

“Sorry guys!” Deacon leaned over a bit with a strained pleasant smile. Chase saw his pointer finger quickly tapping against the side of his leg. His eyes appeared calm and apologetic. “Chase is helping me with a school project for today. One I have to have done before I start classes.”

Chase felt Simon’s grip on wrist loosen as his friend looked at Deacon.

“Oh dang, really?” Ross looked at the two cousins with pity. “That sucks man, sorry. Summer homework is the worst!”

Deacon laughed nervously. “Yeah! It’s the absolute worst.” Deacon scratched his neck as he shifted his feet.

Ross didn’t seem to take notice of Deacon’s nervousness because he only laughed along with Deacon. “What’s your assignment about anyway? Must be real important if they assign it over the summer.”

The panic in Deacon’s eyes was clear to Chase. Maybe not to Simon and Ross, but those two didn’t grow up with Deacon like how Chase did. “Oh!” Deacon exclaimed in surprise. “Uh, our family history!”

The cringe on Deacon’s face is immediate, and the glare on Chase’s face is deadly.

GOD DAMN IT, DORKIN, YOU HAD ONE JOB!

Regardless as to whether Simon missed the cousin’s quiet exchange or choose to ignore it didn’t matter. Because he only wrinkled his nose in response. “Aren’t you going to Med School? What type of class makes you research your family history?”

“Uhhh.” God, why is Deacon suddenly useless!?

“One about genes, duh!” The words spill out of Chase’s mouth without much thought. And for a moment, he wonders if he made the wrong choice of words.

That doubt only lasts a moment, though. Because Deacon immediately piggy-backs off of Chase. “Yeah! It’s Genealogy! But in this context, it’s more so about…” He spins his hands as he tries to think of some excuse. “tracing and seeing what types of diseases can genetically run through people. Sort of like Huntington’s disease.”

In a flash, Simon’s poker face fell along with his crossed arms. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes widened as he leaned towards Chase. “Are you sick?” He looked Chase up and down, like he was searching for any blemishes or bruises. Anything that would signal an illness.

Oh no, no, no. Chase was okay (physically)! “What?! No! It’s just an assignment, and I promised him I would help him yesterday!” He didn’t want to, but he had to get them out of here so he and Deacon could get back to the attic. Chase gently tugged his wrist out of Simon’s grasp and placed his elbow on Deacon’s shoulder in that totally relaxed, and not- at-all-hiding something-from-his-friends way. Unfortunately, Chase remembered a little too late that Deacon is a giraffe but it’s a little too late to back out, so Chase just accepts his fate of looking awkward. “So, sorry you two. But you know how I am with promises!” He even added his signature proud grin just to seal it in.

Yeah, he’s totally got this under control!

He heard Simon sigh dramatically. And Chase opened his eyes to his friend having slouched shoulders. “Well, I guess that leaves us with no other option.” Simon crossed his arms and looked down with closed eyes.

Yes! Love you, Simon! But Chase and Deacon have stuff to do!

Simon looked back at Chase. “We’ll help you with Deacon’s assignment.”

What? “You’re going to do what?” Chase said.

Ross looked at Simon, surprised. “We’re doing what?”

Simon grinned smugly and leaned against the door frame. “We’re gonna help. Whether you like it or not.”

Oh, no, no, no, no, no! That was NOT what Chase was expecting! Oh, NO—

Chase coughed very loudly. “WELL, UH, YOU SEE, uh, the stuff is… old. Like, old, old, like, older than grandpa—no offense grandpa—and we don’t really want to risk damaging it, and—”

“I’ll be gentle, I promise.” Simon’s smug grin was still present, and Chase felt like he was going to commit a cRIME—

“WELL, uh, it’s not that!” Words were fumbling out of Chase’s mouth without a single thought. “It’s just, well, we kind of wanted to—”

“Chase.” Ross stepped forward. His voice and eyes held worry. “We’re just…” He sighed. “We’re just worried. We just want to make sure everything is okay. I’m sorry if it feels like we’re intruding, we just…” Ross’s words came to a halt as he thought through his words for a moment. “There’s a lot happening. And I know I don’t even know half of what you’re going through.” His face turned stern. “Because you are going through something, and whatever it is, you don’t need to tell us if you’re not ready. But I… I want you to know that I’m here. We both are.”

Chase looked at Ross and Simon. He took in their every feature, their eyes, their hair, everything.

He wants to trust them.

No… he does trust them.

If that makes him a fool, then a fool he is.

Chase turned to Deacon with a look. Deacon’s eyes widened as he mouth the word ‘no’ through gritted teeth and away from his friends. Chase gave Deacon another stern look and raised his eyebrows to gesture to his friends. Deacon looked like he was going to murder his cousin in the next second.

When the next second came and Chase was still alive, he decided to put an end to this as he rolled his eyes. Chase turned back to his friends with an overly polite smile. “Can you give us a moment please?” His voice was quiet and polite. The perfect loving and comforting voice to give them right as he slammed the door in their faces.

Simon’s voice was muffled as he yelled, “DUDE, WHAT THE FU—”

“No!” Deacon’s whispered voice yelled at him softly. “Absolutely not, Chase! We cannot let them in!”

“We can just keep the keys in Grandpa’s room! They have no reason to go in there; they’ve literally never gone in there!” Chase whisper-yelled back at Deacon.

“Chase, you know we can’t do that! We can’t risk the keys like that!”

“I’m not saying we tell them anything! Just that they help us research our family!”

“And if we find out our family worked for the d’Ombrages? What then?”

“Then, we… I don’t know! But they can help! Just tell grandpa to put Silver and her family in his room and everything will be fine!”

Deacon’s eyes turned dark as he stepped closer to Chase. There was a fury in his eyes that sent a pit of fear to Chase’s stomach. His voice was dark and threatening. “You know what I’m talking about.”

Chase didn’t let his fear show in his eyes, at least he hoped it didn’t. He stared back at Deacon’s dark blue eyes. He stood tall and he swallowed a lump in his stomach. His vision almost turned red as he felt something violent rise in his chest. He turned his fists into balls and felt a small pinch against his skin, but he didn’t care.

“They would never do that.”

Deacon’s eyes shifted. “I’m not saying they would.”

“But you’re thinking it.”

‘But you are!’ Chase thought as he bit the inside of his cheek. ‘You are! And I’m not going to just stand here and let you insult them like that!’

“When, Deacon? When would they even have the time to do stuff like that, then? To be involved in a cult?”

“Chase, I’m not—”

“No, Deacon. When?! During our final exams? When Danielle came with us to visit mom? When Ross was practicing night and day for a basketball tournament? When Simon was helping me think of a song and dance routine? When they came to dad’s funeral? When, Deacon? When on Earth did they have time to be involved with something like that?!”

“Chase, I’m just saying we need to be careful—”

“I know, Deacon! I need—” Chase’s fists came up to his face as he took in a deep breath. “I need you to trust me, Deacon. I can’t…” God, his voice was cracking, and it was wavering. He didn’t want this to happen. He had to try to keep control of his voice, but God it was so hard. He stumbled on his words for a moment before he was able to peak again in the same hushed voice. “I can’t… prove that we can’t trust them. I don’t have anything that shows us they aren’t involved. But…” he feels his eyebrows scrunch as he looked down. “I can handle having doubts with Silver, as much as it kills me to do so. I can doubt trusting Ana and Harley. About breaking into the library and trusting what is written in that diary—all of that, I can handle.” He looked back at Deacon with blurry vision. “But not them. Not Simon. Not Ross. Not Danielle. Not them, Deacon.” He tore his gaze away from his cousin and to the staircase as he took in a shaky breath. “If I…” He looked back at Deacon. “If I turn out to be wrong, or naïve, or if this all turns out to be some sort of mistake. Then I was wrong, and I was naïve, and I made a mistake. But I’d rather be betrayed, then to have doubted someone I could have trusted.”

Deacon didn’t say anything immediately. He looked at Chase with shiny eyes. His mouth had fallen open like he wanted to say something. But they closed shut every time. He reached out to Chase for a moment but his hand faltered and fell back to his side each time. Deacon closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. When he looked back up with open eyes, something in his gaze had shifted. But Chase wasn’t sure what it was.

“I trust you.”

—

“GRANDPAAAAAAAA! SIMON AND ROSS ARE HERE!” Chase called out as he led Simon and Ross up the stairs.

Simon smiled. “Nice to see that hasn’t changed.”

“I wish it did.” Deacon said as he spun onto the stairs from the hall. Having just returned from telling Ralph to move the keys to his bedroom.

They climbed up the stairs in silence for a few moments. As they got to the second floor, Chase caught sight of Prunella leaning on the doorframe to Chase’s room. Simon nodded in her direction.

“Hey, kid.” Simon greeted but he didn’t stop to make conversation.

“You excited for school?” Ross asked. He only slowed his pace down a little bit for Prunella’s response.

“Excited is a very strong word.”

Ross laughed. “Keep your chin up, kid! It won’t be as bad as you think!”

Chase wanted to laugh at how unphased Simon and Ross were about Prunella’s presence.

The rest of the walk to the attic was short and silent. Chase was the first person up the ladder and the dust was AWFUL. He coughed into his elbow as his tinnitus came back. He made his way back to the storage bin as Simon whistled.

“Wow, it is hot in here.” Simon looked at Ross, whose head was peeking out from the attic’s entrance. “I will never understand how you’re able to wear long sleeves in this weather.”

Chase gave Simon a look. “Simon, you’re wearing a jacket and a turtleneck.”

“So are you.”

“No, I don’t have a turtleneck!”

“I meant the jacket—”

“Can we like, not?” Deacon asked as he climbed into the attic. “I’ve had enough back forth banter for today.” Deacon sighed as he sat down next to the storage bin. “Let’s just get started.”

Chase quickly filled Simon and Ross in on the storage bin. He told them both to wear gloves and to be gentle with everything inside the bin as it was centuries old.

“And if you guys find anything important, like dates, names, occupations, anything at all, let us know, alright?”

Simon raised an eyebrow at Chase’s request. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he nodded along with Ross and got to work.

Chase quickly put on gloves and reached for the small wooden box. It was about the size of his hand, and it felt smooth, he wasn’t expecting it to feel smooth. It was also much lighter than he thought it would be. There was a metal latch at the front. Which he was able to undo simply by flipping it up. The box opened silently.

To an outsider, the contents inside weren’t anything special. It was just faded papers neatly folded up.

But it was enough to make Chase’s eyes water.

His father held these. Chase wasn’t sure what his dad did with them, or why this is what he left. But it didn’t matter to Chase. Because whatever their contents, if his dad choose these items, they clearly meant a lot to him.

Oh gosh, he wasn’t quite sure what to do now. He had been anxious to see what his dad had left in this box. But now that he had it in his hands, he almost felt like he didn’t know what to do with himself anymore.

Though, perhaps he should start with looking at one of papers.

His hands shook lightly as he reached into the box and pulled out the letter at the top. It felt thin in his hands, and yet it carried a weight that made him feel like he was holding the world. He set the box next to him on the side, and slowly unfolded the paper.

            To Charlie,

Chase gasped as he folded the letter back and his hands fell back to his lap. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t his name.

“Chase?” Ross’s eyebrows were furrowed. “Is everything okay?”

Chase swallowed a lump in his throat as he blinked back tears and nodded. “Yeah, uhm,” he sniffled, “Grandpa told me that this box stuff that my dad left behind.” Chase cleared his throat. “And uh, the first letter was,” he lifted the letter and glanced at Ross, “addressed to me.”

Chase saw Ross’s worry shift in his eyes into sympathy. From the corner of his eyes he saw Simon and Deacon glance at one another and then to Chase.

“Oh dang, man.” Ross said. “That’s… I’m sorry. Are you going to read it.”

Chase sniffled as he shook his head. “No uh, not yet. But I will later.”

Ross nodded. “Okay, we’re right here when you need us.”

“Thanks.”

Their gazes felt like a hot laser on him and it made the back of his neck grow hot. Chase folded the letter back up. He reached over for the box and took out the stack of folded letters. He placed the one addressed to him at the bottom. So, it would be easy for him to remember which one it was later.

He reached for the next paper in the stack and unfolded it.

            To Myra,

            It has only been a week since we last saw each other. And yet. I still walk into the living room and think you’ll be there.

Oh, this was…

Chase reached for the next letter in the stack, and then the one after that, and the one after that. Each of them was addressed to either his mom or to his dad.

Chase felt tears well up.

These were letters between his parents.

He… he wasn’t sure if he wanted to read this. Not yet.

Chase folded them back up as quickly but calm-looking as he could. He carefully placed them back in the box, closed the latch, and set the box aside. He was going to keep the box for a while. Just for a moment. He’d put it back tomorrow.

Chase looked at the rest of the bin and sighed.

Well, it’s now or never.

—

“Well,” Ross began as he closed a small book, “That was more information over cattle reproduction than I ever needed to know.”

“Hey, it was definitely more interesting than candle making.” Simon laughed.

Deacon only sighed exhaustedly. “Try reading ten pages just talking about how your parents cousin met his wife.”

Ross and Simon laughed at that. Chase gave a little chuckle, but he was mainly paying attention to the old, weathered books he was currently going through. It was much heavier than the ones made today, and much more… intricate. He carefully set the books down beside him and got back on his knees to look over the bin.

“Oh, wow, we’re at the bottom.” Chase commented absently as his tinnitus began to act up again. “Ugh, Deacon, can you turn up the fan, please?”

“Is it your tinnitus?”

“Yes.” Chase groaned loudly. “And it’s driving me insane.”

Chase scanned the bottom of the storage bin as he heard Deacon stand up and turned up the fan. Despite being at the very bottom, there were still quite a few items left. There were folded clothes in one corner, they seemed to be stained a little yellow. They were probably once white. Next to them was another folded stained cloth that was dark pink. There was a stack of pamphlets, quill pens, and books. All those classic ye olde stuff.

His eyes landed on a faded, vintage wooden chest. It had one of those rounded edges for the lid, and one of those keyholes in the front and center.

By all means, it didn’t stand out as anything special. But to Chase, it was one of the most interesting things so far in this whole storage bin. He rubbed his ears as he reached into the bin and lifted the box. It was heavier than it looked because Chase almost fell into the bin as he picked up the chest. He groaned as he got a hold of his footing and was able to pull the chest out of the bin.

He heard Simon do his classic whistle. “Woah, that thing looks old.”

“It feels old. And that’s cause I’m wearing gloves.” Chase said as he tried to open the box. It didn’t budge. He examined the front of it again and saw a keyhole.

“It’s locked.” He turned to his cousin as he rotated the chest in his hands. “Hey, Deacon, do you think you can lockpi—” His words get cut off as he feels metallic under his fingertips. He flipped the chest over and saw an old looking key stuck to the bottom of it.

‘How is that even sticking there?' Chase wondered as he pulled the key off from the chest. He cringed when he heard the sound of something tearing lightly. He looked over the spot the key once stuck too and saw small pieces of the wood had been peeled off. Man, he hadn’t even been in charge of taking of these items for a full twenty-four hours yet, and here he is, already destroying some of it!

He can feel guilty later. He wanted to maintain his focus on this right now. Chase held the key up to his eyes. It was small and yet it was a little heavy. He couldn’t tell if the key was rusty or if it was just the lighting in the attic. At first Chase thought it was a light pink color. But looking at it closer now, it seemed to be more salmon or copper. The top of the key was molded into a flower with thin petals. Underneath those petals were two leaves, one on each side. The stem of the key was blank with the exception of collars ringed around the stem. Carved at the bottom of the stem were the initials, ‘A.M’

“Never mind…” Chase muttered to Deacon as he slid the key into the lock of the chest. He turned the key and a satisfying click filled the room.

The chest opened with a loud creaking noise. The moment its contents were revealed to the world, Chase began coughing out a lung due to all of the dust. He waved at the air for a moment until his coughing died back down.

Chase looked inside the chest. It was a lot of papers, but they looked far older than the ones they had been coming across the past few hours. These were yellowed and faded. They felt delicate in Chase’s hands. Though, he also couldn’t quite tell through the gloves. The contents of the paper were written in beautiful, perfect cursive. He pictured someone long ago dipping a quill pen into dark ink and putting pen to paper. It almost looked like one of those fancy fonts.

… He should stop gawking and start reading.

To my dearest friend,

            My sincerest apologies, but I write this letter in haste. Though, trust that I will inform you of all the details of my travels in my next letter. For now, I write to simply say congratulations!

            Place my own reservations about children aside, I am so happy for you! I only wish I could have been home for you to deliver this news to me personally. But, rest assured I will be home from my travels well before you give birth!

            I must go now, duty calls! I will write to you soon!

            Your friend,

            Rosie

Rosie… Rosie…

He wasn’t sure if this was an ancestor or not. He’d come across so many letters, and some of them appeared to be letters his ancestors received from friends. He wasn’t sure if Rosie was his ancestor, or if she was a friend of his ancestor. But considering how she mentioned she didn’t want to have kids, Chase leaned more so towards the first option.

Chase set the letter down. He didn’t quite know what to make of it. And it didn’t reveal much, if anything at all, about his ancestors.

He picked up the next letter. This one was also a little faded and yellowed. He unfolded it carefully.

My dearest Friend,

            By the time you are reading this, I will already be on the way home. Though, my travels were marvelous and I have learned all sorts of new things, I have long been missing home and my loved ones. Oh, I cannot wait to share all the songs I have learned! It has been too long since I have felt this inspired.

            I must thank you. For none of this would have happened had it not been for your advice. You, above all else, have encouraged and inspired me in ways I long thought were impossible. I am so fortunate to have met someone like you. Had it not been for you, I would still be at home trying to figure out what to do with my life.

            It brought me great comfort to hear the village taking such wonderful care of you two. And even more to hear that Noel has been helping to lead the men while hunting. I trust that he is taking good care of you? Though, I know that is a silly question.

            It pains me to hear you be so fearful of birth. I wish I could reassure you, but I fear I may not be of much help. But I hope my presence there will help. If only a bit. I know you will be fine. You are a strong woman, in ways I hope to be. And I hope you realize that.

            At least it will not be that much trouble taking care of a child. Gosh, I sound a little ignorant when I say that. I may not have children, but I did help my mother raise my little brother. And I’m sure the other mother’s in the village have informed you that the first few months following birth are rough. But please do not worry too much, for I will be right here to help you when you need me. I only say that you will not have much trouble, as you once mentioned to me about how you used to reside with a large family. I cannot imagine taking care of twelve children! That poor mother!

            Though I have never heard you speak ill of any of those children. So, I trust they were all wonderful. I remember all too well of the details you have shared of the father and his treatment towards you. What an awful man!

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

He read on about the letter, searching for any mention of Marquis’s name or any of his children. But there were no mentions of any names other than “Noel”.

Noel.

Noel. Noel. Was that name mentioned anywhere else? Chase hadn’t seen it anywhere so far. He could ask Deacon and the guys, but he didn’t want to ask any questions until he was absolutely positive.

He felt like he was close to something. He just knew it.

He set the letter down, and shifted through the pages of paper in the stack. He wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for. Maybe he was just looking for a certain vibe one of the letters gave him.

… Okay no, truthfully, he was going off of pure luck.

And God, he was hoping luck was on his side.

As he shifted through the papers, his finger came to a halt when he felt one of the papers was more thicker than the others. Chase gently placed the stack to the floor as he held that one page in his hands. It felt like it had some texture. Sort of like the papers he’s felt in sketchbooks.

Chase carefully unfolded the paper. Taking in every detail and every feeling he felt under his fingertips. There was neat, almost perfect handwriting. Almost like the one Rosie had written all those years ago. But the handwriting in this letter was slanted, each loop in the lettering was perfect, and the letters were lightly smudged. And unlike the dark ink that Rosie used, the ink in this letter was almost a light brownish color. In fact, the paper itself seemed to have been aged with light hints of stained brown colors. Especially from the creases from where the letter had been neatly folded.

He wondered how old this paper was. What it had seen over the years. Who it was once held by.

Well… there was no other way to find out, than to read it.

My Dearest, Noel,

            It is funny, we have been married for years, but this is the first time we have been apart since the day we wed. I know it is silly, but my heart calls your name. I know you shall return in a fortnight, but I cannot help but to feel uneasy. I trust you to take care of yourself, I know that better than anyone. But I also know that you will do anything to keep others safe. And I must ask you for one thing.

            Come back home safely, and alive. I do not need jewelry, or a new gown, or flowers, I do not wish for any of that.

            The only thing I wish for, is for you to return home safely. Can you promise me that? I know it is likely in vain to write this. For I will not receive a response back until you are home. And by then, you will be in my arms, and I will be in yours. And the bed will no longer feel cold, and a part of me will no longer feel like it is missing.

            Rosie and her family have taken very good care of me in your absence. Though, I feel that is harsh to leave out the rest of the village as well. They have all been so very kind and generous to me. They have been with us since we arrived all those years ago. I do not know why I doubted their kindness after you left. I had worried that the respect and love they had given me was only because you were here. Or because Rosie had been the one to welcome us with open arms.

            But that was incorrect. These people are loving, kind, and generous. I had forgotten what it was like to see people treat one another with such care and compassion. I hope for us, it will last for the rest of our lives. And if we ever have children, it will last for their lives as well.

            I hope all has been well with you and the other men. Though, I do not know how you all are faring at this moment. I feel regardless, it would be wonderful to bring you all news! The night you all return home, I will be making my wonderful Carrot and Potato Soup! And Rosie’s brother is hoping to capture a boar to make the dinner that night even more wonderful! It looks to be like we will be hosting a festival to celebrate everyone’s return!

            Outside of my worries, there have been no news regarding the village or anyone else. Sorry to the men! Nothing quite interesting has occurred that has been decided to be newsworthy. Everyone’s families are happy and healthy, the children are joyous, all has been well! And tell Edward no, little Angelica has yet began to walk.

            Bless you, my love. Mention me affectionately to everyone. My affection for you remains unwavering. And it runs deep into the hills and under the soil. I love you.

            Ever yours,

            Elisabeth Hollow

4 April

Hollow…

Elisabeth Hollow…

This was an ancestor.

Rosie was mentioned too. Which means Rosie was a friend. Noel was also mentioned; he was Elisabeth’s husband.

He was also an ancestor.

Chase felt… strange. He felt as though he shouldn’t have read this. It felt like a personal conversation between two people. Like when he would hear his mom and dad talk about the bills. Or when he heard them talk about how much they meant to one another.

… Or when Chase heard his mom crying to his dad in the hospital room. The night before he died.

He felt… like he was intruding.

But it was clear that Elisabeth and Noel loved one another deeply. That, at least for Elisabeth, Noel was her whole world.

Chase smiled sadly. He couldn’t help but to think of Mathilda and Colette. How Marquis viewed marriage as some sort of contract.

And yet, here were Chase’s ancestors. Who married for love. Who soon brought a child into this world because they loved one another.

Chase, Deacon, Uncle Dale, his dad, Ralph, and everyone who came before him. Everyone who placed an item in here to show the world that they lived. Each and every one of them…

They existed because Elisabeth and Noel loved each other.

Chase existed because of love.

Chase sniffled as he wiped his eyes.

Elisabeth seemed kind and gentle. She seemed to greatly respect Rosie and her family. And she clearly loved Noel deeply. He noticed she spoke a lot about kindness. She seemed… almost surprised by it.

Chase smiled as he gently set the letter aside. He flipped through other papers in the stack, before he decided to set the stack aside. He looked back at the chest and what was inside. It was a lot more papers.

But tucked away carefully in the corner was some sort of round drawing. Something golden seemed to frame it.

Chase reached towards it and lifted it gently. It couldn’t have been any taller than the height of the palm of his hand. He realized the frame around it was exactly that. A golden frame with beautiful indentations surrounded it. In the center was not a drawing, but something that looked like a painting? Although, it looked too… light, to be a painting. The canvas… or paper? (He couldn’t tell what the illustration was on.) was a light tan color.

The portrait was of a woman. She looked a little aged, roughly around his mom’s age or a little older. Chase didn’t know how, but whoever the artist was somehow managed to capture the crinkled look in her eyes of pure happiness. Her chin rested on her hand as she turned to the viewer. She looked relaxed and positively glowing in happiness.

It was hard to tell because of the color of the page. But her hair seemed to reflect the same shade as Chase’s. But he thought it was the same shade, that same golden shade as his. Though, there were hints of grey strands. And it only reached shortly below her chin, with some stray strands caught between her hand and chin. Despite the faded page, he could see her gown might have once been a bright blue. But it has now become a faded and washed out shade of the color from time and age. One particular item stood out to him. It was a red pendant around her neck, it’s color bright and dark.

Chase smiled at the portrait. He had an idea who it was. And when he flipped the portrait to it’s back, those ideas were confirmed.

The words were a little scribbled in a charming way. They were a bit faded though, enough that Chase struggled to make out most of the words. But somehow, he was able to string them together.

My beloved wife Elisabeth Hollow

-Noel Hollow

1653

Something in Chase’s brain came to a stop.

1653…

Something about that date felt familiar…

And then it clicked.

1653 was the seventeenth century. The century the keys were found, the century Mathilda was killed, the century this whole nightmare began.

If those dates matched up, then… then maybe…

… Oh my God.

Chase reached over for Rosie’s second letter and read it again.

‘As you once mentioned to me about how you used to reside with a large family. I cannot imagine taking care of twelve children! That poor mother!’

‘I remember all too well of the details you have shared of the father and his treatment towards you. What an awful man!’

‘Twelve children.’

‘Reside with a large family.’

‘That poor mother!’

‘Details you have shared of the father’

‘His treatment toward you’

‘What an awful man!’

‘I had forgotten what it was like to see people treat one another with such care and compassion.’

Elisabeth worked for the d’Ombrage family.

Call him crazy or stupid, but Chase was almost sure of it. It was too many coincidences for it to not be what he thought it was.

Elisabeth worked for the d’Ombrage family. Which meant…

Elisabeth knew Mathilda.

Chapter Text

1653.

1653.

The date stares at him like a deer in headlights. There’s so many thoughts running through Chase’s head but he can’t comprehend a single one.

But one other thought came to his mind.

He had to look at the diary.

“I uh…” He clears his throat and tries to ignore how dry it is. “I need a minute.”

Chase quickly stood from the floor and onto his feet. His vision went splotchy for a moment with black dots at the sudden movement, and he stumbled on his feet for a moment. But he pulled himself together. This was big. This was huge.

He ran to the hatch and climbed down the ladder without saying another word.

Simon held a puzzled look on his face. He turned to Deacon and leaned in. “You know how to lockpick?”

—

Okay, so, Chase wouldn’t recommend, nor would he encourage people to run down the stairs. But he does think there are a few exceptions to that. Like when you need to get to a family member quickly, or you don’t want to miss a live performance by Alastair during the Grammy’s.

Or when you might have found a clue that could help you find your kidnapped boyfriend.

Chase runs down, skipping almost two steps at a time. He practically jumps from the fourth to last step to the bottom floor. He never let go of that small portrait. He held it tightly in his hands, his fingers wrapped around it securely as he held it to his heart. He gripped onto the post of the railing and spun himself to his right and into the living room, past the TV and couch, and into the dining room. Where Agatha and Ralph were both still sitting at the table. Agatha was typing something onto Deacon’s laptop, while Ralph seemed to be reading out loud from the diary.

“Charles?” Ralph questioned. “Did something hap—”

Chase ran forward to the adults. “I need the diary!” He huffed the words out with a strangled breath, on account of the fact that he just ran down a flight of stairs.

“Wha—”

“Now please!” Chase said as he ran to the table and next to Ralph. His grandfather looked at Chase with a puzzled look. But he proceeded to slide the worn-out diary over to his grandson. Chase practically tore it away from his grandfather and began flipping through the pages furiously.

He knew exactly what page he was looking for. He knew exactly what it said. He just needed the confirmation. Needed to know his gut was telling him the right thing.

And there it was. A yellowed page and faded writing. The same page Deacon had shown him last night.

            8 September 1645

The year they found the keys.

“Holy shit…” The words left Chase before he could even think.

“Language, you man!” Ralph scolded him. And Chase’s words spilled out in quick succession.

“Sorry grandpa! It’s just… This date it’s…” He ran his hand through his hair as he struggled to collect his breath. “I think I was right. I think our ancestors knew Mathilda and her family!” He stumbled on his words for a moment as he tried to organize his thoughts in a coherent manner. “I—I found a letter!” He looked around for a moment just to make sure neither Simon or Ross followed him. Though, he knew that if one of them did, Deacon would have immediately ran after them. But one could never be too careful. When he didn’t see either of them or hear Deacon yelling something, he turned back to his grandfather and neighbor with a lowered voice. “One of our ancestors, Elisabeth, might have worked for the family! I found a letter that mentioned about how she lived with a large family and that she took care of twelve kids.” His eyes were wide and he knew they held a wild look in them. “Marquis had twelve kids! Mathilda, Colette, Evrarad, Jehanne, and… Okay, I don’t know all their names. But my point is, is that there were twelve of them. And this,” He held up the miniature portrait to the two. “Is Elisabeth!” He flipped over to show them the back of the portrait with Noel’s handwriting. “And she was alive in 1653! And they found the keys in 1645!” He held the portrait close to his chest.

“I…” Agatha nodded very slowly. “I think I understand where you’re coming from.”

“There’s only one problem.” Ralph cleared his throat. “Those are two different dates.”

Chase gave Ralph a look. “I know that, Grandpa! I was looking for proof that they were alive at the same time!” He looked back at the diary as his expression shifted into something more serious. “It’s not enough to confirm anything. But if Elisabeth was alive eight years after they found the keys, then she must have been alive when they created, found, however the keys came into their lives! And she worked for a large family of twelve kids… I might have been right, I…” Chase swallowed a lump in his throat as realization hit him like a wave. No. Not yet. “I need to talk to Deacon.”

He turned on his heel and walked towards the door.

“Charlie!”

Chase turned back around to his grandfather who held out a hand. “The diary.”

“OH SHOOT, right!” He quickly ran back over to his grandpa and handed him the diary. He turned back on his heel and out of the room, and up the stairs.

He could be right.

He could be right about his family’s connections to Ex-Libris.

It was his idea to research them, yes. He was the one who theorized that they might have known anyone from the d’Ombrage line. But he wasn’t expecting to be right. He was just… reaching out into the darkness.

He didn’t think there would be any light to grab hold of.

He climbed back up the ladder with haste and pushed open the hatch. His head poked out of the small square entrance to Deacon in some sort of heated debate over… lock picking?

Whatever the context was behind this, he didn’t have the time nor the patience to question it. “Hey!” Chase called and all three boys turned to him. “Uh, Deacon! Can I speak to you privately?”

Chase swore he saw Simon tense. “Did something happen?”

Oh shoot.

Chase quickly shook his head and waved his arms before falling back a bit because, oh right, he kind of needed to keep a hold on the ladder to not fall to the ground. He grabbed back onto the ladder and totally played off his fumble in a cool way. “No! Nothing happened! It’s just a, uh, small family matter. Scheduling stuff with taking Deacon home for school and whatnot.” He turned his gaze to his attention. “Come on! Grandpa needs us!”

“Oh, uh, okay.” He watched Deacon set down the stack of papers he was sifting through before he stood. Chase took this moment to climb back down the ladder and waited for his cousin.

Truthfully, Chase didn’t like lying to his friends. He didn’t like withholding the truth from them or shutting them out. He felt as though he was betraying them. Like he was taking advantage of the carefully built trust between the four of them that was crafted over the course of years. And he hated it. He couldn’t stand using their trust like this.

But he didn’t want to get them involved.

He couldn’t get them involved.

He couldn’t drag them into this like he did with Prunella.

Chase would never forgive himself if he put his friend’s lives at risk.

He watched Deacon climb down the ladder anxiously. He furiously tapped his foot against the floor as his cousin decided to take his sweet precious time to get down a damn ladder. Once Deacon’s feet were planted firmly on the ground, Chase grabbed his cousin’s wrist and made way to his bedroom.

The door was left open, and no one else was in there. Which meant Prunella had taken the keys to his grandfather’s room. Good. That gave him and Deacon a place to speak privately. He let go of Deacon’s wrist and walked back over to his door. He closed it quickly and locked it.

“Chase,” Deacon began. “what is thi—”

Chase turned to his cousin so quickly he felt a little dizzy. But he brushed that aside, there was something much more important to attend to. “Elisabeth worked for the family!”

Deacon looked at his cousin like he had just grown another head. “Okayyyyyy. Now backtrack a little bit. Who’s Elisabeth?”

Chase groaned and rolled his eyes. “Our ancestor, Dorkin! Keep up! God!” Deacon tried to argue back but the argument consisted of only sputtered nonsense. “She was alive at the same time as Mathilda and her family!”

“And you think she worked for the d’Ombrage family?”

“God, Dorkin, yes! Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one?”

Deacon only glared at Chase. “Okay… so Elisabeth was alive at the same time as the d’Ombrage’s. But… that doesn’t prove she worked for them.” Deacon crossed his arms as Chase stomped a foot onto the ground.

“No! Dorkin, look, Mathilda found the keys in sixteen-forty-five, and she was like, eight or something? A baby, you know? A kid-kid.” He moved his arm to the side and made a gesture to symbolize what might have been her height at that age. “And by sixteen-fifty-three,” he held up the portrait that he was still clutching. “Elisabeth, this lady, had already stopped working for them. She moved to a little village with her husband, our other ancestor, Noel, and they had a kid. And this painting was made in sixteen-fifty-three!”

“Chase, this doesn’t—” Deacon sighed as he ran a hand through his hair as he gathered his thoughts. “Just because the dates match up, doesn’t mean they knew each other.”

Oh, for Christs’ sake, Chase did not have time for this. He took a large step to Deacon and grabbed him by the shoulders. “She worked for a family. There were twelve children, and she took care of all of them. The father was awful and treated her horribly. And by sixteen-fifty-three, she left all of that behind. That is what I know for a fact! There is writing proof of it! And what other family do we know of that had twelve kids, and a piece of garbage disguised as a human called a father?!”

Chase watched Deacon’s eyes go wide. Deacon’s face shifted into the one he made when he went into deep thought. But his eyes still held a lingered look of doubt in them.

“Look, I—” Chase took a deep breath. “I know I’m jumping to conclusions. And I’m making assumptions based on something that doesn’t have proper proof. But there’s too many coincidences with this. At least, enough for me to think that maybe, just maybe, they’re not coincidences.” He turned the portrait over in his still-latex covered hands. He didn’t even realize he still had the gloves on. He gently ran his thumb over the artwork. It crossed over her hair and that red pendant. She looked so… so happy. And yet, somehow Noel had managed to capture a sense of sadness in her eyes. Perhaps she too, struggled with something, like so many others have. "She worked for them. I just know it." His words were low and hushed, but they held hope.

Chase wasn’t expecting Deacon to say anything back. And for a while he didn’t. The remained still with silence before it was broken by Deacon sighing. Chase’s eyes tore away from the portrait and up to his cousin.

“Okay, have you found anything else that could prove this?” Deacon asked.

Chase… wasn’t expecting that. “What do you mean?”

“Like, any other letters? Anything from her time while she was working for the family?”

“I…” Aw, shoot. Chase didn’t go through the rest of the chest. “Noooo. I sort of ran out the moment I made the connect that she might have known the family.”

Chase saw just how hard it was for Deacon to not facepalm. Deacon’s hand slowly came up to his forehead shaking as though it was in pain from not facepalming. “Okay. Okay… I think I have an idea. I think we should ask the keys—”

“No.”

“Chase—”

“No! I don’t… I don’t want to… Just, no!”

“Chase, this is important. You don’t have to ask Silver if you don’t want to place this on her. You don’t even have to ask all of them. We just need one of them to help us. I… I’m sure they’ll understand. Especially if it’s to get Violet and Buddy back.”

A part of Chase wanted to say no. He wanted to fight and argue against Deacon. He didn’t want to force the keys to think about such an ugly part of their lives any more than they needed to. It felt unfair. He felt like he was forcing them to relieve a part of their trauma just for his benefit. Even though he knew that was not true. They wanted Violet and Buddy back just as much as Chase did. He watched them in that book during the days Nox was in a story and not Violet. He saw the way Silver laughed at Nox’s awkward introduction to her. He saw how impressed Copper look when Buddy’s character was required to steal a key from one of those cliché princes. The way Serpentine smiled as they taught Nox how to loosen up and made him smile.

He saw the way each of the siblings grew closer to Buddy. He saw the fondness in their eyes. The way they looked at him as though he was family. He saw the sadness when they realized he wasn’t Raven. And the acceptance that he had suffered and fought for Raven to live.

They didn’t say it out loud, but they loved Buddy. Each in their own way.

So yes, they too, wanted him back just as much as they wanted Violet back.

Chase just… didn’t want to hurt them again. He couldn’t do that to them again.

But… would they understand? Would they truly be okay to experience the hurt and pain again if it helped them reunite with their siblings?

Chase swallowed a lump in his throat, and he nodded. “Okay. Then what?”

Deacon pointed up to the ceiling. “I’m going back to the attic and go through the rest of the letters. You think she left by sixteen-fifty-three, right? I’ll try to find anything from before then. Any mention of a family, twelve children, Marquis, and especially of an island.”

Chase nodded again. “Okay. Thank you, Deacon.”

Deacon only smiled. “Of course. What else are cousins for?” He looked up at the ceiling and his softened face turned stern. “Alright then.” He turned back down to Chase and nodded. “Let’s go.”

Chase unlocked the door and they both walked out. They shared one last glance and nodded at one another before they turned down different halls.

He felt his heart hammer in his chest and his head pounded against his skull as he walked down the hall. His grandfather’s door wasn’t decorated, it was just plain dark wood with a golden sphere handle. Chase brought his hand up but he stopped before his knuckles made contact with the wood.

Was this the right decision? Would this hurt his family? He couldn’t stand to hurt them again. He hadn’t known the keys for long, but they were his family. He didn’t… he couldn’t…

… He didn’t have time for doubts. Nox was waiting for him.

Chase knocked against the wood softly in a specific rhythm. It was a rhythm they had all agreed to so that when they entered a room the keys were in, they wouldn’t be frightened or surprised. Despite knowing that the keys knew this knock like the back of their hand, he still called out to them quietly.

“It’s Chase.”

“Come in.” Came Ruby’s voice.

Chase’s hand hovered over the doorknob for a split second, but only for a second. He took a deep breath and twisted the cool metal to the side and opened the door.

The siblings were all standing on a dresser that belonged to Chase’s grandmother. Ralph couldn’t bear to throw it out after she passed away. He built it for her; it was a gift from his heart. The wood on it was smoothed out, and there was a small mirror in the center.

“To get rid of it, would be like I’m getting rid of a part of her.” Was what his grandfather had said only a month after she passed.

The point was the keys were standing it. They were all gathered around a piece of paper. Crayons, markers, pencils, erasers, all those classic supplies surrounded them. Prunella lay on Ralph’s bed on her stomach with her legs in the air. A Lady Lovalorn book was laid out in front of her, but her attention was on her neighbor.

Chase wondered if she was actually reading it before he walked in. Or if it was to just appear busy.

Near the front, Silve lay in front of the mirror. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was even. She must have felt exhausted from all of the…

… Chase felt a pang of guilt in his heart.

“Charlie.” Ruby greeted him with that formal smile. Their short hair shaped their face, and their crown sat perfectly centered on their head. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Their tone was friendly; it was always friendly. But as all nine siblings turned their heads to Chase, he felt his words get caught in his throat as the back of his neck increased to an uncomfortable level of heat.

Chase cleared his throat. As though it could remove all his nerves. “Uh, can I speak to one of you? Anyone. Uh, only if you’re okay with that.”

It only took a millisecond of no response for Chase to go into overdrive. What if they were upset at him? What if some of them were still angry? Copper was definitely still upset. What if none of them wanted to see hi—

A light pink colored arm was raised. And there stood Ro, the lover key, his eyebrows arched, and his eyes sparkled brightly. Then again, the keys always sort of sparkled.

“I can.” He said in a soft voice that was uncharacteristic of him.

Chase was… surprised. He had nothing against Ro. Far from it. He absolutely adored Ro. His constant fawning over people, real or fictional, was funny. He loved his family fiercely, his favorite snack, and even certain books. Not to mention, every time he gave Deacon advice to talk to girls, it always ended with Deacon a sputtering red mess in front of a girl in town.

Chase never got tired of that one.

Ro would have had a field day at the library with Deacon and Harley.

Ro was the lover key. And yet, his character was rarely, if ever, the love interest. Ro’s role took the form of characters who were deeply passionate about anything. And who loved fiercely. Regardless of whether it was another character, a hobby, or anything.

Ro was also the first one who knew about Chase and Buddy.

Chase didn’t tell him. Ro could just simply tell. From the way Chase smiled in the same room as Buddy, to the way Buddy looked at Chase.

Though, Chase wouldn’t say he was as close to Ro as he was with Silver, Goldie and Bronze. Truthfully, once the keys went from three to ten, it became just a tiny bit difficult to get to know all of them as much as he wanted to. He craved to have a friendship with them similar to his with Silver, or Bronze and Goldie. And yet, he found it difficult to get to know each of them on a personal level. Circumstances got in the way. There was always something else to worry about. Something else that beckoned his attention. Someone else he needed to prioritize.

It was unfortunate. But it was just how it all unfolded.

Chase nodded. “Okay.” He began to make his way toward the siblings instead of awkwardly hanging out in front of the door. “Are you okay with me picking you up, Ro?”

Ro nodded with a smile. “Of course!”

Chase brought his hands together in a cup shape and laid them out on the dresser. Ro took a careful step onto Chase’s palms and gave the human a cheery thumbs up to signal he felt secure enough for movement. Chase carefully lifted his hands up and brought one to his abdomen. He moved his right hand in front of Ro to serve as a fence of sorts to ensure Ro didn’t fall off.

“So, how’s the map going?” The words fell out before he could think, and Chase wanted to hit his head on the wall.

Ruby only smiled once more. “Very well, Charlie. I believe we may be done with it within the hour.”

Chase nodded. Wow, there was a lot of nodding going on today. He knew he should be excited about it. Which was strange. Had this conversation been even just a simple ten minutes ago, Chase would have felt ecstatic. Because it would mean one more step closer to finding the island.

And yet… he felt… nothing.

His chest felt hollow and numb. He knew he should be feeling something. Joy and happiness at the fact that he would reunite with Nox soon. Relief that the keys seem to be alright.

And yet… there was—

Chase felt vague pressure against his sleeve. And he looked down to see Ro tugging on it. His eyebrows were scrunched, and his eyes held a deep sorrow. He looked back up, and each of the keys held that same sorrow in their eyes, along with Prunella. Whose eyes were glued to Chase.

“Is everything alright, Charlie?” Ruby asked.

“Do you need a laugh?” Serpentine said with a small but cautious smile. As though she was testing the waters first. “I have some of the world’s finest jokes under my sleeve!”

Chase somehow managed to push out a small smile. “No. No, thank you Serpentine.” He looked over at Ruby. “I’m…” He desperately tried to avoid the sight of Silver laying down.

He failed.

“How is she? Er, well, how was she before she fell asleep?” Chase asked.

Ruby looked over to their younger sister with a fond smile. “She was doing a little better. She had fallen asleep shortly before you entered.” They turned back to Chase with a smile. “Thank you, for worrying about her. I know you did not mean to hurt her. And you too, need to realize that, Chase.” Ruby began to walk towards Chase. As they did so, they gestured with their hand for Chase to move closer. And he did so, his knuckles gently brushed against the smooth surface of the dresser. A cool metal hand colored red rested on his. Ruby held a soft look in their eyes. “And you need to forgive yourself as well.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Oh! No, I’m not, I’m—”

“Chase.” Bronze’s arms were crossed. “We’ve been living with you for months. We can all tell when you are blaming yourself for something.”

Chase opened his mouth to argue back. But in truth, he couldn’t find the words to do so. He couldn’t think of anything to say that he was fine, really! Everything was alright!

So, instead Chase did what he does best.

He changed the topic.

“Thank you…” He muttered before he cleared his throat. “Well, uh… when you all finish the map, let us know, okay? And… thank you all so much. It… means a lot to me. I’ll get you all some peanut butter, cheese, pretzels, and whatever else you all want!”

Copper chuckled, and Chase was surprised to see there was no… dryness behind it. “You already do that.”

Chase leaned in carefully. “Yes, but! But I’ll get the deluxe, king size, and just the better ones in general! And… when this is all over, I’ll free you all.”

Serpentine’s smile fell into a touched expression. “Charlie—”

But Chase shook his head. “No! That’s a promise! When all of this is over, I’ll free each and every one of you! No more wishes, no more being taken advantage of, or used for the benefit of others! When this is all over, you can live your lives as you want! And no one can tell you otherwise! I… I don’t know how, but I will! Even if it means working my butt off to get more Narratonin!” Oh, wait, the keys also work to get Narratonin. “If… if you all are okay with that…”

None of the siblings said anything. They looked among one another as small smiles crept onto their faces. He couldn’t read their expressions or their eyes. But he knew they were speaking amongst one another with their looks.

Ruby’s gaze fell from their siblings and to the kind human boy who stood in front of them. Who held their younger brother like he was Chase’s own child.

“Oh, Charlie…” Ruby said with a soft smile. “You have already given us that.”

Chapter Text

Chase felt… conflicted over Ruby’s words. In truth, part of him did not believe he deserved such praise. He felt what he had done for the keys was the bare minimum. To him, they deserved so much more, and he wanted to give them so much more.

He just… didn’t know how…

Even now, as he placed Rose on the floor of his bedroom, the door locked for security. Even as he sat on the floor with crossed legs, he thought he could be doing so much more for this loving family.

Rose looked at him with curious eyes. Eyes that wondered what was wrong. “What is ailing you Chase?” Was something Rose asked Chase more times than he could count.

But this wasn’t the time for that. That wasn’t what he brought Rose here for.

He brought Ro here to ask about Elisabeth. He just… didn’t know how to word it correctly.

So, he just said it outright. “I think one of my ancestors worked for Mathilda’s family.”

A sharp gasp left the key’s lips as a hand flew to his mouth. It hung in the air as his eyes went wide as he processed those words. “You do?! Well, who were they?! Perhaps my family and I knew them!” His eyes squinted as he made a puzzled face. “We weren’t close with any of the servants, but we did know some of them by names!”

“Does the name ‘Elisabeth Hollow’ ring any bells?”

Rose hummed with a finger on his chin, his eyes flew to the ceiling as he thought for a moment. “Hmm… a little? ‘Elisabeth’ sounds familiar.” His gaze turned back to Chase. “But your surname, ‘Hollow’, does not. Truthfully, I had never heard of such a surname until I met you.”

Chase did not want his disappointment to show. But a sad groan left his mouth as he slouched.

“Are you sure?”

Rose nodded with an apologetic look. “Quite…”

The sigh left Chase before he even thought it into existence. His head was thrown back as he used every bit of his will power to not tap his foot against the floor anxiously.

Was he… wrong about this? Did he make a mistake? What if he dragged Deacon into nothing but a wild goose chase that led nowhere? What if by inviting Simon and Ross inside, he put them in danger? What if this was all just… some dead end?

Maybe he was just grasping at useless straws. Jumping to conclusions and assumptions that got them nowhere—

“… Had she been married just yet?”

Chase ears perked up when Rose’s voice pulled him back to reality. “Huh?”

“Was she married? I assumed she was because she must have had children in order for your family to be here. Not that there is anything wrong with having children outside of marriage, but back then, she would have suffered a dreadful amount of backlash if she had a child while unwed.” Ro’s eyes darkened as his tone turned grave. “Especially, from Marquis. He would have held some… very strong opinions.”

“Of course he would have.” Chase scoffed the words out in a low voice. “But yes, she was married.” His volume returned back to a regular level to answer Rose’s question.

“Do you know if she was married while working for Marquis?”

“Uhhhh, noooo.”

Rose hummed. Chase had never seen him look so… thoughtful. Not that Rose had never been in deep thought before, he had. Though, it typically centered around the many people, characters, and sometimes even items he had a crush on. But this was the first time Chase had seen Ro think deeply about something important.

Even then, that statement didn’t feel completely true. Ro cared deeply about a lot of things. He spent hours sitting with his siblings trying to think of a way to get Nox and Violet back. He held Chase’s hand (well, as best as he could anyway) as he offered advice about Buddy. He stayed up all night once to make Violet and Buddy a card. He practically all but tackled Buddy into a hug the first time they met.

Ro was someone who was filled with love. And Chase realized that when it came to the people he loved, he would do anything for them.

Chase leaned towards Ro. His hands rested together in his lap as he played with the portrait. “Is that a problem?”

Rose shook his head. “No… But if she was unmarried while working for the family, then ‘Hollow’ wouldn’t have been her surname. She would have gone by her maiden name.

The sound of a hand slapping a forehead filled the room. “Of course! I always forget that’s a thing!”

Okay, Chase may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he knew what maiden names were. And if he was being honest, he thought the entire concept of them was very… well, stupid. A part of him always thought it was unfair that women were expected to take their partner’s surname. While their partner, at least in ye olde days, were expected and permitted to keep their heritage. Because that’s what surnames were to Chase. Someone’s heritage, their lineage. To expect, and in some cases, force someone to change, no, practically let go of their lineage purely based on their sex was…

Ridiculous.

Chase remembered once as a kid, he declared that when he got married, he would mix his surname with his wife’s. That way, she wouldn’t lose a part of her identity. Though, Chase was five at the time, and his true reasoning for it back then was simply that he liked his last name.

He also didn’t know he was gay.

So, that promise has been adjusted just a tiny bit.

“By any chance,” Rose brought Chase back to reality once again, “do you happen to know when she got married?”

Chase crossed his arms as he tilted his body to the right with a hum. “No. I did find a letter she wrote to Noel, her husband, and she said they had been married for years. But it wasn’t dated.”

“Hmm. Anything else?”

“Uhm…” Chase fidgeted with the painting in his hands. Wait. “Oh! There’s this!” He held the portrait up and placed it on the floor in front of Rose. “It was made by Noel, he called her his wife, and it’s dated sixteen-fifty-three!”

Had Chase not been so caught up in his thoughts, perhaps he would have noticed the way Ro froze. His eyes widened slowly as his gaze lingered on Chase.

“Sixteen-fifty-three…” The words were hushed by Rose like a brush lightly hitting a canvas. So small and seemingly inconsequential that Chase didn’t hear it. So, he continued to speak.

“So, they must have been married by sixteen-fifty-three. Or maybe some time that year? Wait, no, of course it was some time that year, that’s how dates work. But do you know if she wa—”

That soft rhythmic rap against the door that Chase knew all too well filled the room. Chase looked at the door then to Ro, who still held wide eyes. But Chase simply thought they were a result of the door knocking.

They knew it had to be someone in their group. But Ross and Simon were here, they had hung out in Chase’s room before.

One could never be too careful.

Chase uncrossed his legs and stood. He walked over to the door and unlocked it. The door opened with a small creak that came to a quick halt as Chase held it only slightly ajar.

Through the crack, he saw familiar blue dorky eyes and he felt his body relaxed. He opened the door fully and allowed Deacon to step in. He held some yellowed pages close to his chest.

“Anything?” Chase asked as he closed the door once more and locked it.

Deacon only sighed with a disappointed look. It made every hope Chase held just a second ago evaporate. “I didn’t find anything that looked like it was written before sixteen-fifty-three. I actually…” Deacon’s face twisted into something Chase couldn’t read. “I didn’t find anything that was written before she arrived at that village.”

“That… what?!” Chase shook his head as thousands of thoughts ran through him. But he could only bring one of them to coherent words as he picked up the portrait from the floor. “That makes no sense…”

“I don’t know, Chase.” Deacon crouched down and held out a hand to Ro, who accepted and carefully stepped onto the human’s hand. He carefully lifted Ro over to Chase’s desk. Once Ro stepped onto the desk, Deacon began to pace around the room as he held the pages to his chest with a gloved hand. “Maybe she didn’t know how to write before then? Like, when she worked for them. It’s a miracle itself that we even found letters she had written. Most people weren’t literate back then.”

Something clicked in Ro as the gears in his head began to turn. His gaze went from the portrait to the humans standing in front of him.

“That’s… that’s a good point.” Chase crossed his arms and leaned against the door. “But… I don’t know. She sounded too… too…” He made some vague gesture in the air with his hands. “reader-ey to have only just learned how to read and write.”

“Because she didn’t…”

The boys turned to Rose, whose expression made Chase pull away from the door and straighten his back with wide eyes. Ro held a grave look on his face, but his gaze was no longer directed towards the cousins. Rather, it was now pointed to his sandaled feet.

Chase had never seen him like this before.

“She was literate. She knew how to read, and she knew how to write. She knew Marquis and the children. And she worked for them.” Rose raised his head and gazed at the two cousins with bright red gemmed eyes. “I know who she is.”

Chase couldn’t… believe what he was hearing. “But, you just said—”

“I know what I just said!” Ro’s voice was stern as he held his hands up. “But Marquis only allowed a certain handful of servants to be literate.” Ro puffed out his chest and his voice went gravely and low. “’To allow one to write, gives them the ability to share their ideas. To allow them to read, grants them the power to create new ideas. And power is not something meant to leave this lineage.’ Is what he would always say. So, he only allowed servants who were undyingly loyal, and absolutely needed the skill to be taught how to read and write. The Steward, the Marshal, the Chancellor,” Rose looked at the boys with a serious gaze. “and the Nursemaid.”

“The nursemaid?” Deacon questioned. “The person who took care of the children? Why would they need to know how to read and write?”

“Because she was also their teacher. A nursemaid and a governess. She was the one who taught Lord Evrarad and his siblings to read and write. Yes, she cleaned after them, and made sure they were fed. But she also taught them the history of their town and homeland, mathematics, religion, etiquette, and so much more. She taught those kids everything they knew.” His expression shifted into one that held sorrow and… what Chase thought may have been a hint of shame. “I… cannot remember her name.” His gaze fell to the side. “Truthfully, I cannot recall the names of many people from then. And the ones I can, I cannot recall their faces. “ His gaze fell back to the boys and that sorrow and guilt in his eyes was replaced with determination. “I cannot remember her full name, and I am sorry for that. But I do remember the name the children called her. As Marquis wanted the children to be formal towards her, but Lord Evrarad wanted to give her a nickname of sorts.”

Chase’s nails dug into his pants as his heart hammered against his chest.

Rose closed his eyes for a moment, as though he held the fate of the world in his hands. And perhaps, in a way, he felt like he did. Perhaps he felt he held a clue to finding his sister and new brother. To finding Chase’s lover.

To ending this all.

Rose’s eyes fluttered open and they rose to face the two human boys. “They called her ‘Miss E.’ ‘Miss’ to address her formally, and ‘E’ because it was the initial of her first name.”

Chase felt the corners of his lips grow to the edges of his cheeks. He turned to Deacon and grabbed him by the shoulders.

RIGHT! Words! Uh. What are words again?! Oh my God! OH MY GOD!!

As the concept of speaking words into existence failed Chase, he grabbed his cousin by the shoulders and began to shake Deacon aggressively as he sputtered out some nonsense.

Rose held a large smile on his face watching the two, he laughed. “Miss Margo once told me that Miss E had been taking care of them ever since Evrarad was a newborn.”

“mArGo?” Deacon’s words came out jumbled as his cousin continued to shake him.

Rose laughed through his words again as he spoke. “Miss Margo was Miss Collette’s younger sister. But I digress, Miss E was already quite…” Rose glanced back at the cousins nervously. He caught sight of Deacon right as he placed his hands on Chase’s shoulders and brought the shaking to an abrupt halt. Ro only laughed nervously at the two of them and he coughed. “She was already quite… aged, when my family and I had met her. But that,” he pointed to the portrait Chase had set to the side before deciding to shake his cousin like his Wii remote five years ago exactly two seconds before it flung out of Chase’s hand and through Deacon’s wall. “I am almost certain that this is her. Miss E always preferred shorter hair, a style that was not that common back then. And she always wore that red pendant. And she,” he looked back at the boys with a smile. “was unmarried during her time with the family.”

The cheer Chase led out was the loudest noise he had made in over three weeks. He pumped his arms into the air as he cheered loudly. And while Deacon wanted to scold him for being so loud. The smile that grew on his face overpowered that scolding.

It had been too long since Chase had been this happy.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Deacon held his hands up as a thought occurred to him. “There’s just one glaring issue.”

Chase cringed as he turned to Deacon. Of course it was too early to celebrate.

“If she worked for them, why is there no documentation of her time from there? Like, letters from when she worked there. Surely, she had friends and family outside of it all? Or wrote her thoughts down in journals like Marquis did. Why wouldn’t there be anything from her time there.”

Chase saw the joy leak out from Ro’s eyes as a deep sense of sadness took over.

Oh God. Oh no. No, no, no, no—

The words flew out of Chase’s mouth before he could even think. “You don’t have to tell us if it’s too pai—”

“It is not.” Ro’s smile begged to differ. “But I appreciate your concern. It only saddens me a little bit. But it is nothing I cannot handle.”

Rose paced around on the desk for a moment before he returned back to the original spot he was standing on just moments ago. He placed a hand on his chest and took a deep breath with closed eyes.

“There would be no documentation of her time with the family. It would have all been burned and destroyed. She would have been sworn to secrecy, with her life as reward.” Rose’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked back at the boys. “Marquis was paranoid. There was no doubt about that. And he did not want anything about our existence to be slipped out. She… She did not have friends and family…” Ro looked off to the side with a distant look in his eyes. “Not after they moved to the island. They did not allow contact outside of the island. They were not allowed to leave or enter the island. The only people who were, were Marquis’s children. If anyone was caught with any form of contact with the mainland, they were…”

Rose didn’t finish his sentence. But he didn’t need to.

“But… that means…” Chase shook his head as something awful grabbed his heart. “Her friends. Her family. Her mom, dad, any siblings—”

Rose nodded sadly. “She had to cut all contact with them.”

Chase couldn’t… he couldn’t imagine how that felt. To leave her family and friends behind. What did she tell them? Was she even allowed to say goodbye? To give them one last hug and tell them how dearly she loved them?

Something violent grew in Chase’s body. That man. That—pathetic excuse of a human being! Who was he to steal away such moments from Elisabeth?! To tell her parents one last goodbye?! What if she was married before then?! Would he have expected her to abandon her family? Her husband? Her child?

Chase dug his nails into the skin of his palms. He didn’t want to. And it hurt like hell. But it was the only thing he could think of to keep in control of himself.

“And as Nox told both of you, it is still that way today. Some have been… tricked into residing at the island. Into forming connections with Ex-Libris, until it was too late to go back. Others, like Buddy, have been born, raised, and have lived their whole lives on that island. And even a few of those have also died on that island.” Ro’s gaze turned back to the cousins. “It’s a small percentage, but there have been a number of people on that island who have never known life outside of the island.”

“But then…” Chase tried to find his words. “how did she…?”

Rose only shrugged. “That I… I’m afraid I do not know. She may have escaped, though, I personally doubt that possibility, or… perhaps Marquis may have simply let her go.”

Chase scoffed harshly. “Yeah, I doubt that.”

But Rose tilted his head. “He may have. You were not there, Chase. You do not… know what it was like to be there after that attack. It was like a ghost town. Like…” Ro gestured vaguely with his hands. He cupped them together and lightly shook them as though a sudden weight was placed in his palms. “Like something from the core of the family, of the Chateau as a whole, had been ripped away. Lady Mathilda was beloved among the island. And Miss E…” Rose closed his eyes once more as he breathed in deeply. “Miss E loved those children like they were her own. She raised them. I have no doubt she is why the children, especially the boys, did not share Marquis’s view of life. Because Miss E, “Rose lifted a finger and pointed to Chase and Deacon, “your ancestor, taught them kindness, and love.”

There was something in Rose’s words. A form of weight that was carried in them. They were not intentional, Chase knew there wasn’t. And yet…

Maybe… in a way, Elisabeth saved those children. Saved the siblings from such an awful outlook on life. She must have cared for them deeply.

But…

The realization slowly dawned on Chase with wide eyes. “But then… that means…”

Rose’s nod was filled with grim confirmation. “Miss E was devasted when Lady Mathilda died. And it wasn’t long afterwards when other staff members received word of her departure.” He looked at the distance with wistful eyes. “She didn’t even say goodbye… She was inconsolable… We only found out she left through Lord Evrarad…”

Chase… wasn’t sure if he was supposed to hear that. There was something about Rose’s tone that held a deep sense of sorrow. His voice had gone low and quiet. And Chase wondered if Rose’s words were directed to him and Deacon, or to himself.

“That’s…” Chase bunched the fabric of his jacket with his hands. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to lose your child… Even if you weren’t related to them biologically.”

Deacon nodded in agreement. “But at least… Elisabeth was able to live a life outside of Marquis and his restrictions.” The room went silent for a moment. But it only lasted for a moment. For Deacon’s eyes began to widen. “Speaking of Marquis, how did he even let her leave? He basically held everyone hostage there.

Rose made a face Chase couldn’t read. “That belief isn’t… entirely incorrect. But as Jade said, Marquis wasn’t quite the same. Especially that first month after Lady Mathilda died.” His expression shifted. “From what we heard, she simply asked him if she could leave, and he allowed it. But as a result, everything that proved Miss E’s existence on the island was burned.” Rose’s head lowered along with his voice. “Marquis was drowning in grief, and perhaps that grief allowed him to feel something akin to empathy for the first time.”

Had Chase’s eyes been wandering, he would not have noticed the way Rose’s hands shook ever so slightly. Had he zoned out for just a moment, he would have missed the hint of resentment, the bitterness and bite in his voice that cut through the air like a knife. Had Chase’s attention been anywhere else, he would have missed it all.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t think Mathilda’s death affected that many people.

How many people were truly affected by it? How many lives were forever changed by it? How many people were able to recover from it?

How many didn’t?

“At least… well… I hope the rest of her life was happy.” Deacon said with slumped shoulders. Chase could only nod in agreement as a faint thumping sound began.

“She had a kid.” Chase said. “I don’t know if you saw it, but it was in one of the letters.”

Deacon nodded with a small smile. “Yeah, I did. It was a son. She named him Lucas.”

Chase smiled at the information. It didn’t reveal much. And he didn’t know much about her life after leaving the island. But as he held this portrait in his hand, as he brushed his gloved finger over the illustration and that faint thumping grew in volume, he hoped that maybe, she was able to accept Mathilda’s death.

Even if it hurt her to lose a child.

The door busted open with a loud smack. Deacon practically jumped into the air as Chase lunged over to Rose. Instinctively raising his hands to cup Ro and form a small wall around him. His knees screamed in pain as they buckled against the floor with a loud thump. He cringed but the pain meant nothing to him as he felt Rose close in on himself.

Chase turned his head, ready to play off the scene Simon or Ross walked in on as trying to cover one of his action figures. But it wasn’t Simon or Ross standing at the door.

It was Prunella. Her arms stretched out to both sides of the door frame with wide eyes. Her hair is wild with strands pulled out of her braid; her breathing was heavy as though she had just ran a marathon.

Wai—

This wasn’t even Simon or Ross!

This was Prunella!

“Prunella!” Chase couldn’t hold back his scolding tone. “You need to knock! We thought you wer—”

“It’s finished!”

Chase felt Rose’s figure relaxed, and his hands fell to their palms on the table. “What?”

“The map!” Prunella took a deep breath with a small grunt. “The map is finished!”

Chase flew to his feet. He didn’t look at Deacon or Rose. He didn’t think. He barely processed Prunella jumping out of the way for him. He didn’t care how loud he was being as he sprinted down the hall. He didn’t care if Simon or Ross heard him from the third attic that he is STILL surprised to know that they have.

Chase briskly did their knock and opened the door. Luckily, it seemed the keys were expecting him. For there they all stood, with smiles and pride in their eyes.

Silver was awake.

And he wasn’t sure. But he thought he saw some hope in her sapphire gemmed eyes.

—

It was perfect.

More than perfect! Not only did this map include the shape of the island, but it also included smaller islands that apparently surrounded it! And more than just that, the keys had gone as far as to even place out the buildings that inhabited it.

“Oh my God.” The smile on Chase’s face made his cheeks ache. “This is perfect! More than perfect! I just wanted a shape of the island, but this…” He looked at Silver and her family. “Thank you. All of you, just… thank you.”

“Of course, we’re glad you’re happy with it, Chase!” Silver clapped her hands together with a bright smile.

“That’s why we took so long.” Jade stepped forward as she scratched her cheek. “We were trying to remember every tiny detail of the island that we could. There’s a bit more that we remembered, but it was more of the layout of the chateau! So, we think it might be best to wait until you need it.”

“Okay!” Deacon ran down the stairs covered in sweat. He ran into the dining room with everyone else and leaned over with his hands on his knees. “I got Simon and Ross to read and write over the entire documentation that our ancestor Edmund wrote about cattle raising.” Deacon stood up and let out a heavy breath. “That should keep them busy for about thirty minutes to an hour!”

“Great!” Chase cheered as he turned back to the map that sat in the center of the table.

The shape was similar to an oval, with uneven edges of course. Four smaller islands surrounded it, each of them drastically different sizes. At the bottom of the island was a drawing of a few houses, on it’s left was a few drawings of trees closely drawn to one another. On the top left was another set of trees, the far right was a small bridge.

And there, at the top of the island, was a drawing of a castle. It didn’t look like the classic ones in fairy tales with those pointed roofs. The walls were drawn like thick squares, and the roofs themselves were also squares.

“Is that…?” Chase whispered.

Silver stepped forward with a grave nod. “Yes. Chateau d’Ombrage. Wherever they are keeping Nox and Violet, it is likely in there.”

Chateau d’Ombrage….

“What’s that place?” Prunella’s little finger pointed to a drawing that did look like a castle from those classic fairy tales. It was drawn on one of the smaller islands, this one on the top right.

“Ah, that is Cathedral of Clé.” Sapphire stepped forward with a disgruntled expression. “It is where they typically perform their rituals for wishes and whatnot.”

“Oh.” Prunella cringed. “Sorry.”

Sapphire’s expression fell into something filled with remorse. “No! I’m sorry, Prun. You did not do anything wrong. I was simply answering your question. I’m sorry my tone sounded so upset.”

“I have… so many questions.” Chase said, but he turned to Silver and Ruby. “But those can wait.” His gaze flew to Ralph. “Grandpa! Do we have like, an old map? Like one of those paper ones that are all folded up, or ye olde globe? You know the things before technology?”

“You know, Charles, ‘old’ is a much nicer word than whatever that was.” He sighed. “But yes, we have one in the hallway—Hey! Charlie!”

But Chase was already halfway down the hallway, he almost slipped in his socks from trying to stop on the wooden floor. He barely managed to grab a hold on the wall and a small table, but it only served to send the table wobbling along with the globe sitting on it. At which point, Chase lets go of any grip his feet and socks had onto the floor and slides down. He swung his leg over to the side and managed to barely catch the globe with his leg.

He has no idea how he just did that.

“Chase?!”

“I’m fine, Dorkin!” Chase yells back as he scrambles to his feet and swoops the globe into his arms and runs back down the hall and into the dining room.

“I’m back! I got it!” Chase shouts as he plants the globe onto the table.

“When did we even get that—?” Deacon asked but Chase ignored him.

“Europe, Europe, Europe…” Chase muttered as he spun the globe around until he found that familiar large continent. “France, France, France…” He spun the globe just a tiny bit more but made sure not to go over Europe. But he couldn’t find it anywhere. He pointed at the globe and squinted at it. “Where the falafel waffle house is FRANCE?!”

No, seriously, where WAS France?! It could not, and SHOULD NOT, be this difficult to find a country that is one of the most well known and POPULA—oh wait, there it is.

“Chase, what are you doing?!” Deacon questioned.

“They lived in France. I don’t know for sure, but we’re going with that for now.”

Silver smiled, “Oh! As-tu déjà visité la France, Chase?”

“I… you too, Silver!” Chase snapped at Silver who only looked at him confused.

“I’m taking that as a no.” Bronze snickered.

“HEY! It’s not my fault that I don’t speak…. Sp…. It… ger….—”

“French.”

“FRENCH! Wait, FRENCH?!”

Serpentine giggled. “Yup! And you were right! Mathilda and her family were French!”

“Yeah, honestly, Chase, you could have just asked us that and we would have told you.” Copper said as he fiddled with his hood.

Deacon glared at his fool of a cousin. “I TOLD YOU!”

“Okay! Yes! You’re right, I was wrong! That isn’t important now! Just—” Chase held up his hands. “Let me think. Just for a moment, please. Let everything be quiet for a moment.”

Chase didn’t wait for a response, he pointed his finger at France. And he allowed his left pointer finger to graze over the surface of the ocean. Chase noticed two things.

The first thing was that the globe had squished writing on some parts of the ocean.

The second thing was actually two things. Two different sets of black dots on the globe that could have represented one thing.

Islands.

“Deacon.” Chase didn’t notice that the room had gone silent until he called for his cousin. “When Elisabeth left the family, where do you think she would have likely fled to?”

“I uh…” Deacon paused for a moment, presumably thinking. “She wrote her letters in English, and so did Rosie. And practically every other letter I skimmed over was also written in English, so…” The room went silent once more for a few more seconds. “England. She likely fled to England.”

Chase looked at the globe closely. England was… well, it was close enough to both of these sets of islands…

“I need a marker, A pen. Anything!”

Agatha perked up. “I have lipstick?”

“That’ll do!”

Mrs. G quickly rushed over to her bag and pulled out a stick of red tinted lipstick. She uncapped it with a satisfying click and handed it over to Chase. He took it gently and tried his best to look apologetic.

“Sorry about this, Mrs. G. I’ll get you a new one.” He said quickly before turning the lipstick over to it’s pointer tip and marking both islands with a bright red ‘x.’

“I need your laptop.” Chase stood and grabbed the homemade map from the table and over to Deacon’s laptop. The screen had gone dark from its inactivity, but it only took a quick shake on the mousepad to turn it back on. Luckily, it hadn’t been asleep long enough to log them out of Deacon’s profile. Granted, his password probably had something to do with pirates or elves. Because it’s Deacon.

Chase quickly opened Google Maps and zoomed out as much as he could on the map until it became a globe. He went back over to Europe and France, and zoomed in.

“Chase, are you going to zoom in on the ocean again?”

“No! I’m onto something just be quiet! Hand me the globe, please.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Deacon pick up the globe and place it on his right. Chase quietly thanked his cousin as he scrolled over to the general area of where he saw the islands. He only zoomed in a tiny bit before at least three green colored plots of land appeared. One much farther up on the map, and the other closer to the end of the screen.

He zoomed in on the one closer to the end of the screen first. He almost wanted to cry when that small plot of land was revealed to actually be roughly seven smaller islands. But no matter. He picked up the homemade map, and zoomed in to each of the seven islands.

The island the keys drew was almost oval shape… four smaller islands surrounded it…

One island almost appeared to be a match, but the side was flipped. And either way, it only had one tiny island next to it. The next set of islands was no different. Either too small, too stretched out, or not enough smaller islands surrounding it. And the last set was nowhere close to being what Chase was looking for.

That left only one option.

Chase zoomed back out and hovered over the mouse for a moment as he stared at that tiny green speck on the screen. It was nothing. It was just a bunch of ones and zeros, it was code. It was not anything physical.

And yet, it was everything to Chase.

It was what stood between him and Buddy.

And Chase was going to tear it down.

Chase quickly zoomed in on the island. There were no roads mapped out on it unlike the other islands. There were no labels at all. The island itself was not even named.

Chase held the homemade map up next to the screen. He took in every curve the keys had drawn and compared it to the curves of the land on screen. He went over them again and again until he knew them by heart. And then he moved on to the smaller islands. He searched for the small circular shaped island on the top right. The rounded square shaped one on the bottom left. The tiny rectangular shaped one on the right. And the largest island, the one the cathedral was drawn on, at the top left.

And each and every curve.

Was a match.

“Oh my God…” Came Deacon’s voice.

“Oh my goodness…” Agatha’s voice was filled with shock.

Chase felt the corners of his lips tug upward. For the first time in weeks, he felt that heavy feeling from his chest dissipating as it was replace with something lighter. He felt free.

Chase turned to his family with a huge grin that stretched from ear to ear.

“We found it.” He said. “We found the island.”

Chapter Text

A loud pop filled the room as a cork flew off to the side. Loud cheering filled the room as non-alcoholic champagne foamed at the tip of a large bottle and over a sink.

Chase’s cheeks felt sore from smiling, but he couldn’t help it. Just like the loud cheer and laughter that escaped his mouth. Prunella sat at the counter, she looked happy. Which filled Chase with relief. She had been through more stress and worry than any kid her age should ever have to go. She sat with the same Lady Lovalorn book, but this time she was actually reading it instead of pretending.

Ralph walked into the kitchen with a bright smile. Ross and Simon following shortly behind, having just been invited by Ralph to join the festivities.

Simon whistled as he entered the kitchen. “Woah, it’s a party down here.” He smiled as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “What’s the occasion?”

Chase grinned widely as the words tumbled out. “I’m going to see my boyfriend soon!”

Despite the spill of a confession, no one seemed to notice. And if they did, perhaps they thought it was not much of a danger to make such a confession.

And besides, Ross’s eyes bulging out of his head as his hand landed on Simon’s shoulder was so worth it. “You have a boyfriend?!”

Simon pointed at Chase with a surge of energy which was uncharacteristic of him. “I knew it!” He turned to Ross and shook him. “Didn’t I tell you! I knew it!”

“Oh my God, I need to tell Danielle!” Ross pulled his phone out of his pocket and began to furiously type onto the screen.

Chase closed his eyes and threw his head back in a laugh at his friend’s antics. As his eyelashes fluttered open and his head tilted back down, he saw Simon making his way over. Simon reached out and Chase felt a hand pat him on the back like a teacher to a student.

“Well,” Simon began, “I’m glad you seem to be in good spirits now, dude. I’m guessing it’s long distance, but I’m happy you’ll be able to see him soon.”

“Yeah, something like that—” Deacon muttered under his breath as he pulled open the cabinets for spices.

“Danielle says congratulations!” Ross shouted the words and held up his phone happily.

“Thank you!!”  Chase shouted back as though Danielle could hear him.

The fridge door closed, and Chase turned his head to his grandfather. Who had pulled out a carton of eggs and lemon juice. “Would you boys like to join us for dinner? We’re making a big meal to celebrate the good news.”

Chase hopped excitedly with a wide grin. “Oh! Grandpa is making Pavlova for dessert!”

Simon smiled. “I’m always down for free food.”

“Of course! Thank you, Mr. Hollow.”

Right as Ross said those words, Agatha walked into the kitchen with a bowl of vegetables she had just picked from her garden. “Hello boys~!” She sang the words and walked over to Prunella. Agatha planted a kiss on her daughter’s forehead as she passed her.

“Hi, Mrs. G!” Ross and Simon’s greeting was in perfect sync.

Ross walked over to the counter and leaned next to Simon. “Spending the last few days of summer with the neighbors, huh?”

Oh crap! Right! Mrs. G’s presence here was abnormal! Of course, they would ask why she was here and not at the Bed and Breakfast.

But Mrs. G played it all naturally as she placed the vegetables against a chopping board. “Oh yes! But worry not! The Bed and Breakfast will be back up and running soon!” She began to chop up the ingredients with a happy smile. “I love running that place, it’s my passion. But Prunella comes first. I like to spend the last few weeks of summer with her.” She turned around to Deacon, who was still searching through the cabinets. “Deacon, can you be a dear and hand me the thyme?” Deacon nodded and reached in to the cabinet.

Chase was NOT expecting Mrs. G to play that question off as smoothly as she did. Though, it was likely because it was half true. Every year around the end of summer, Mrs. G would close the Bed and Breakfast for a short time. She used that time to place her full attention on Prunella. Usually, Prunella’s dad was also able to join in on the short break. But this year, he wasn’t able to leave his business trip early.

In a way, with all of this happening, it was likely for the best. Mrs. G didn’t want her husband involved in all of this.

Likely for the same reason Chase didn’t want Simon and Ross involved.

Chase watched Deacon hand Agatha the thyme before Prunella slid off the seat at the counter and walked over to Chase. She didn’t say anything as she gestured her head up to the ceiling.

Ah, she was going upstairs. Chase assumed she was going to the tower to spend some time with the keys.

“Grandpa,” Deacon turned to face Ralph, “I can’t find the can of cranberry sauce.”

“Let me see.” Ralph walked over to Deacon and looked through the cabinets. “Huh. I thought we had some.”

Chase took in a sharp breath through his teeth. “Ooooooh, right, I gave the last of it to Ru—” He felt the elbow of an eight year old kid jab into the back of his knee. “—OW—Ben! Ruben! Ya know! That, uh, weird pig that’s been showing up outside for some reason.”

Simon wrinkled his nose. “A pig?”

“Is that even safe for a pig to eat?” Ross asked.

“For Rueben, it is. Anyway, yeah, we’re out of it.”

Ralph released a frustrated groan. “Charles, what have I told you about the food in the cabinet.”

Chase sighed with a slouch. “To always tell you first, and buy more of it later.”

Ralph nodded with a strict expression as he crossed his arms. “That’s right. And guess whos going to get more?”

“Ughhhh, me.”

“Ralph,” Agatha’s voice was so hushed that Chase could barely hear it, “are you sure it’s safe for him to go alone?”

Ralph didn’t respond as his face twisted into a morph of conflicted emotions. Chase opened his mouth to respond but Ross beat him to it.

“Oh! I can join you, Chase. If you’re cool with that.” Ross reached into his pant pocket and pulled out his car keys with his pointer finger. He held them in the air and gave them a small spin. “You wouldn’t have to walk.”

Okay, look, driving sounded so much better than walking. Especially when Chase was the passenger princess. He turned to Ralph and was all but ready to beg his grandfather to let him leave with Ross and Simon. But Ralph gave a subtle nod practically the moment Chase turned to him.

Chase turned back to his friends with a grin. “Alright! Let’s go then, team!” He pumped his arm into the air as they all turned to leave. Simon followed the two wordlessly. Chase didn’t ask if he was joining them, he just knew Simon was joining them. “Oh, wait!”

Chase stopped in his tracks as he reached into his pocket. He had to make sure he had some extra cash on himself before standing in front of checkout to pull out his wallet only for a fly to be the only thing to come out of it.

He wrapped his hand around whatever was in his pocket and pulled it out. There were a few coupons, and the library card, and—voila! His wallet! Chase opened it up quickly, counted the cash, and closed it back up once he was sure he had enough. He placed everything back into his pocket and looked at his friends and nodded.

Chase turned back for a split second and caught sight of Deacon. Who was no longer standing at the cabinets. He was next to Agatha and assisted her in chopping up some more vegetables. But his eyes were glued to Chase’s gaze. His eyebrows were slightly scrunched as he looked back at his cousin. And without a single word, Chase knew what that look said.

Be careful.

Chase gave him a nod to reassure his cousin.

The boys walked out of the kitchen, through the living room, and out of the front door.

—

“So…” Ross tapped his finger against the wheel. The sun was beginning to set, and the sky filled with a beautiful array of pinks and light blues. “You got a boyfriend, huh.” He held a teasing but friendly smile on his face.

Chase cringed softly with a laugh. “God, you sound like a dad asking his kid about their love life.”

“Nah, that’s Danielle.” Simon’s voice rose from the back of the car. “I’m surprise she isn’t blowing up your phone right now.”

“She said she’s still with her grandma.” Ross looked away from the road for a moment to glance at Chase. “So probably tomorrow morning, or later tonight. Either way, you might want to turn your ringer off.” Ross laughed as he turned back to the road.

Chase threw his head back as he laughed. Danielle always liked to joke about how she was the “mom friend” of the group. She always liked to say it was because of how prepared she was for everything. Packing sunblock and band-aids, she always had an extra bottle of water, pain killers and allergy reliefs. That girl was practically prepared for everything. She was like Prunella, except with city life instead of the wilderness.

But truthfully, Chase, Simon, and Ross liked to think of her as a parental figure because of how deeply she cared and loved. When Chase’s dad died, she was there in an instant. She once joined Chase to visit his mom. She went to every single one of Ross’s, Chase, and even Deacon (back when he was in basketball) games. She even went to Simon’s little brother’s birthday parties, with a gift and everything!

Above everything else, when Danielle loved, she loved deeply.

“But anyway, what’s he like?” Simon asked. “What’s his name? Cause you haven’t given us his name, and I’m getting tired of just calling the guy, ‘dude’, or ‘him’.”

Chase grinned as he twisted his body around to look at Simon. He placed a hand on the seat. “What? So, you can look him up on Facebook?”

“No.” Simon drew the word out slightly. “Of course not. I’m gonna look him up on Instagram.”

The car filled with loud laughter while Simon smiled. Chase turned back forward to face the front of the car.

“Well…” Chase shifted in his seat. “He’s nice, and funny. He makes me laugh a lot. He’s really smart, and he’s really cute, and—”

“Oh, you’ve got it bad, dude.” Simon laughed.

“HEY!” Laughter once again erupted in the car.

“Yeah! But you can say that about anyone, Chase!” Ross said. “What’s he like as a person? What are his hobbies?”

“Where does he live?” Simon added before Ross continued.

“How’d you meet him?”

“Mother’s maiden name?”

“What do you like about him?”

“His social security.”

“How does he treat you?”

“The wacky three digits on the back of his card.”

“His zodiac sig—” Ross aggressively turned his head around to Simon. “WHAT?!”

Chase and Simon roared into laughter. This one lasted far longer and was filled with far more joy than in the previous sessions. Even as Ross fumbled with his words and asking Simon why on EARTH he’s trying to steal the identity of Chase’s boyfriend, but even through those words there was a smile on Ross’s mouth.

“But seriously, what’s he like?” Ross turned the wheel as they headed right. “I know we’re being really pushy, I’m sorry. You’re just…” Ross thought through his words for a moment. “You’ve been down for a while. And it’s nice to finally see you smiling. But you don’t have to tell us anything if you don’t want to. Your comfort is more important than anything else.”

The car went quiet, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was a… warm one. It was filled with something fuzzy and loving. Like a warm hug from his mom. Like Buddy’s hand the last time Chase saw him

It made him feel loved.

And it made him want to cry.

Chase looked out the window and to the warm setting sun. He could see the subtle and faint reflection of his face in the window. He felt his heart hammer against his chest as he thought about every moment between him and Buddy.

Was he… really ready to share this? Was he willing to let two of his closest friends see a part of him that he’s kept hidden from sight. A secret he kept to himself for weeks before his family found out?

Was he… willing to open this door? Even if it was just a small crack to let the light in?

“He’s wonderful…” The words slipped out in hushed fondness, but Chase makes sure that they’re loud enough to be heard. “He’s very lazy, but when there’s something he really wants, he won’t stop at anything until he gets it. Deacon has said he looks at me like I’m his whole word. He does this… this smile when we’re together. When it’s just us, no Deacon, no kid, no gramps, or Mrs. G., just us. His eyes sort of squish together and they crinkle and his teeth show. He snorts when he laughs, and I love it. He works hard for the people he loves; he does anything and everything for them. I look at his hands sometimes and I hold them in my own, and they feel so soft and smooth. And then I think about the scars and bruises that are hidden away. The markings and the cuts that leaked into his life, the rough edges that made him feel like he has to survive in this world and not live it.” Chase sniffled as he cleared his throat. “I look at him, and I see the eyes of someone who has been hurt and betrayed. I look at his back and I see the markings of a pain no one should go through. I look at his shoulders and see a weight he should have never had to carry.” Chase squinted his eyes as his vision became blurry. His chest stirred with something strong and something wet threatens to spill from his eyes. “I look at him, and I see his past, present, and future. I see all he was, all he is now, and all he will become. I look at him, and I see Buddy, in all his pieces and being. And I think about how… how far he has come. And how much he deserves it, and so much more.” God, he tried not to, but his voice began to waver and break. “I think about where he is now, how he’s not here. And how he’s just… waiting. Waiting for something, for anything. Waiting for me.” He felt his gaze slide away from his reflection and to his lap. His hands ran up his arms as he gripped onto the fabric of jacket tightly. Bunching it between his fingertips as though it could bring him any closer to Nox. “I miss him so much. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

His breathing turned labored, and he did his best to hold the tears in. But as Chase desperately reached for the tip of self-control, he realized there was a lack of movement from the car. He peeked past his bangs and saw the world outside the window stood still. And—

Oh.

The car had stopped.

When did that happen?

When did Ross pull off to the side?

Had Chase dared to risk a look at his friends, he would have seen the scrunched pain in their faces. The tears that stood on the edge of Ross’s eyes glittered in the dimming sunlight. Simon had long since unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over the arm rest and a warm grip on Chase’s shoulder.

He couldn’t.

Despite how much he wanted to.

He couldn’t tear that wall down.

So, he doesn’t see Simon shift. But he feels Simon’s arm run over his shoulder. Chase doesn’t say anything as Simon pulls him close and into a warm embrace and ducks his head into Chase’s shoulder. Chase doesn’t comment on the sudden dampness on his shoulder. He doesn’t say anything as he sees the white sleeve from Ross’s shirt appear in front of him as a foreign hand squeezes Chase’s. None of the boys comment about the uncomfortable ways they twisted their bodies into the embrace, or how the arm rest is poking into Simon’s stomach, the gear shift bruising Ross’s arm, the seat-belt squeezing against Chase’s skin.

None of them say a single word.

No complaint.

No rush.

Just…

Love.

Oh…

How could Chase not trust them?

How could he ever doubt them?

How could someone love a person this much, and still betray them?

Chase is held in the arms of his friends, and he is loved.

—

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that. And if Chase was being honest, he didn’t quite care that much. Not when he was surrounded by such warmth and love.

But eventually they did separate, the car went back into drive, and they parked in front of the doors of the convenience store.

It was a rinky dinky place, one that had been opened back in the 80s. It was cluttered, a bit stuffy, and still held those mismatched neon colors that once held a bright beauty, but now only had faded and dull colors that hinted at it’s history. The place itself even smelled of dust, and a vague scent of acetone. Chase once described the place as smelling moldy. Which was a MAJOR mistake on his part. As it led to the place being shut down for almost three weeks as inspectors looked through every nook and crany in search of mold. Mold, of which, they never found.

Look, it wasn’t Chase’s fault that Diane is a first-hand gossiper.

Despite it all, the place held a charm. It was a favorite among townsfolks. It had outlived numerous 7/11’s, and even a K-Mart.

Those smells and the memories they held hit Chase as he stepped past the front doors and inside the store. It was as busy as it got on a Sunday night. Which was far more busy than any one would think on a SUNDAY night. But the place was, thankfully, not all that crowded.

There was a group of middle school girls happily chatting away in front of the freezer aisle. And if the tubs and bags of ice cream and chips didn’t reveal what they were doing, then the matching pai of pajama pants did. A small family with an exasperated looking father stood in the candy aisle with his children. A young man with broad shoulders was looking over the selection of alcohol. A young woman was paying for a bottle of soda. And an elderly woman, who looked about Ralph’s age, was looking over two bottles of medicine.

So, yeah. Way too busy for a Sunday night.

Wordlessly, Chase headed off to gather the snacks he promised the keys. The family was still in the candy aisle, and from the children’s volume, Chase thought it might be best to wait until that storm passed before he walked in.

He quickly grabbed the largest bag of cheese puffs there were, along with gummy bears, pretzels, sour cream and onion, and whatever else the keys enjoyed.

A whistle came from his right, and Chase turned his head to see Simon walking towards him with his hands in the pockets of his jackets. “Someone’s craving some snacks.”

Play it cool, Chasey! “Haha, yeah. It happens sometimes.”

Simon squinted at the cheese puffs in Chase’s arms. “Can you even eat this?”

Sugar Honey Iced Tea.

“Uh, no. But Deacon can! And I’m a nice cousin so I’m getting them for him even though he didn’t ask me to!” Chase brought a fist to his chest with a smug smile.

Simon smiled in that way where he is CLEARLY calling BS, but he didn’t say anything. He only held his hands up in the air. “Alright dude. You do you.” His hands slid back into his pockets and walked off to the ice cream cooler.

Chase watched Simon for a moment. His gaze flew from his friend in search for the family. Much to Chase’s relief, they were now standing in front of checkout. The children were practically bouncing off the walls at the idea of candy.

Chase chuckled at the children’s antics as he walked over to the candy aisle. He grabbed some peanut butter fluppies, chocolate covered pretzels, some sour patch kids, cookies, and—

Okay, it was quickly becoming apparent to Chase that he did NOT have enough arms for this.

Like a guardian angel watching over him, Ross walked over with one of those carry-on baskets. “Here dude, you look like you need this.” Ross smiled as he handed Chase the basket.

Chase grinned back at Ross. “Thanks, man.”

It didn’t take him much longer to grab the rest of the snacks now that Chase had two whole free hands! Ross stayed next to him during the rest of the snack gathering, likely because there wasn’t anything he wanted.

When Chase got everything, he turned to Simon and let him know they were checking out. Chase carefully placed his items down when Simon SLAMMED a wrapped Snickers ice cream with extra peanut butter down on the counter.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pay for mine.”

Nice of you to do so, Simon. But Chase was less concerned about paying for the ice cream, and more concerned about you SLAMMING THE ICE CREAM DOWN, but okay.

At least the worker got a kick out of it. As they ducked their head and covered their mouth with their hand as they failed to conceal a laugh.

Once the worker (somewhat) regains composure, they begin to scan the items one by one.

“I swear, I’m forgetting something.” Chase said as he watched the fluppies, pretzels, jelly beans, and more be scanned. “I just can’t put my finger on it.”

Simon wrinkled his nose. “Where’s the cranberry sauce?”

“OH MY GOD—” The words aren’t even halfway through Chase’s mouth before he runs from the counter and to the back of the store where the sauces are kept.

“That’s the whole reason we came here!”

“I KNOW! Excuse me, ma’am.” He said as he passed by that elder woman again, who made an ‘ooh’ noise as Chase rushed past her.

He quickly grabbed the can of cranberry sauce and zoomed back to the front of the store. “Excuse me, ladies!” He hugged the aisle as best as he could as he passed by that group of middle school girls again. Who were giggling like crazy at Chase’s antics.

He returned to the counter and placed the can down. “Sorry about that!”

The worker was once again failing to conceal a laugh, and it made Chase smile.

—

The ride back to the house was a lot less eventful and filled with nowhere near the amount of tears as the previous one. Which, if Chase was speaking truthfully, he preferred. It was instead filled with Simon teasing Chase for forgetting the WHOLE reason they even went to the store. And Ross cackling like crazy at Simon’s teasing.

Once they got home, it took Chase a lot of convincing to not let Simon or Ross help him with the bags. And by ‘convincing’ he meant bribery. He now owed Simon a milkshake and Ross a round of bowling. But it was worth it. It would take too much explanation and distraction to try to sneak the bags of snacks up to the Tower.

Also, he agreed to let Ross carry the most important bag. The one that was filled with the single can of cranberry sauce and nothing else.

Chase vaguely heard a familiar beat as he unlocked the door. He didn’t recognize the song until he opened the door and the song filled his ears. And an aroma of spices filled his senses as they walked in.

“WE’RE BACKKK! Oh my God, is that Golden playing?!” Chase said.

Prunella popped her head out from behind the wall that led to the living room. “Yup!”

Chase fist pumped the air. “Hecks yeah! You, kid, have got some wonderful taste.” He said as he walked into the living room.

Prunella only looked at her neighbor confused. “Thank you?”

Chase walked into the kitchen with his friends. Next to him Ross placed the bag of cranberry sauce onto the counter.

“We got the cranberry sauce!”

Simon snickered. “Barely.”

Chase glared at Simon for the comment. But there was no ill-intent behind it. And regardless, luckily for him, Ralph was currently trying to balance whipping egg whites while simultaneously pouring sugar into a bowl very slowly. “Thanks Charles, just leave it there for now.”

“Oh, Mr. Hollow, let me help you!” Ross rushed over to Ralph and gently took the sugar from the older man. Ralph helped him as Ross slowly poured the sugar into the mixing bowl.

“So, kid,” Chase turned his head to see Simon speaking to Prunella. “how’s the babysitting life going?”

“It could be better. Watching over Chase and Deacon is tough. I don’t get paid enough.”

“Prunella!” Deacon scolded the kid as he washed dirty pots and pans. “You know that’s not what he meant!”

Chase laughed for a moment. He gestured to the bags by picking them up a bit. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go drop these off in your room, Deacon.”

Deacon knew instantly what Chase was referring to and nodded. “Okay, I’ll go get you when the food is ready.”

Chase nodded and began to make his way upstairs. The trip wasn’t that difficult until Chase pulled down the ladder to the Tower. It was a little difficult trying to climb up a ladder with a bag of snacks, but he survived.

He pushed open the hatch and poked his head through the entrance to the sight of the keys having their own celebration. The same music from the kitchen was playing in the tower as well with the helpful use of an old audio baby monitor. With the microphone side downstairs hidden out of sight from Simon and Ross, and the Keys having the side that served as a speaker.

With the help of Prunella and Chase hours earlier, they had strung up some colored fairy lights all over the walls and windows of the room. They had been set to a slow transition of a gradient like shifting of the rainbow. They had set up an iridescent mat over a table which made the room glow like a disco room. A bowl of punch was set to the side with tiny ceramic cups set to the side that Agatha had made for the keys. Well, specifically for fairies, but they served the same purpose. Each cup rested on a different styled toy table that Prunella used to play with years ago. The setting sun made the room shine in a dark pink tone that made the room seem to glow.

Some of the keys were dancing. Goldie was in the middle of twirling Jade, which made her release a heartfelt laugh into the world. Her wings seemed to sparkle as the light from setting sun bounced off her wings. Serpentine was dancing with Copper, well, if you could call it dancing as much as it was Serpentine jumping around and twirling while she held and dragged Copper around. Despite their antics, Copper appeared as though he was trying his best not to smile. Rose was dancing by himself, but he looked as happy as he could be.

Iron, Sapphire, and Ruby sat to the side, clearly content with just watching the rest of their family dancing. But they each sat cheerfully and spoke to one another with large smiles.

Silver was dancing with Bronze. He held both of her hands as they did a ballroom dance together.

“Chase!” Silver caught sight of Chase right as Bronze dipped her. Her hair taken over by gravity as it fell from her face, which hung upside down. But the wide smile on her face at the sight of the blonde was irrefutable. Bronze brought her back to eye-level, and Silver said something to him that Chase couldn’t make out. But her brother only nodded with a smile, he nodded to Chase and then made his way towards Ruby.

Silver turned to Chase with the same cheerfulness she always held. As though today had just been any other day. “I was waiting for you!”

“Wait, how?” He saw Silver pointed at the audio baby monitor. “Oh, right.”

Silver clapped her hands as she nodded excitedly. Chase placed the bag on a separate table than the one the keys were celebrating on.

“I got everyone’s snacks!” He announced as he took a seat next to the table on his knees.

The family broke into cheers and celebrations. And every one of them quickly made their way and gathered around Chase as he opened each of their bags of snacks and gently set them aside to a spot said key picked. Each one of them thanked him, some of them, like Ruby, bowed deeply at him. It was a gesture Chase was not used to.

Silver had patiently waited to go last. She stopped him right before he opened her bag of cheese puffs and instead gestured for him to set it to the side. Chase gently placed the bag against a lamp that rested against the wall on the table.

“Not hungry? Er, well, I guess more like, not craving it?”

Silver shook her head with a smile. “I would much rather enjoy your company while I have it.” She gently tucked her dress in and gracefully sat down next to Chase. Or, well, as close to “sitting next to Chase” as she could get, since she was on a table.

Chase smiled softly. “Thanks, Silver.

For a brief moment, the two of them didn’t say anything. They watched as their tiny family returned back to dancing, with a few more now happily enjoying their snacks off to the side. Chase set the now empty plastic bag aside on the floor and leaned onto the table. He placed his chin on his hands.

“I’m sorry you can’t join us downstairs for the party.” Chase rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Simon is very stubborn, and very perceptive. If we tried to get them out of the house ‘subtly’, he would immediately think that something was up.”

Silver only shook her head with that same smile. “I do not mind. We are having fun.” She looked at her family with a fond smile. “And besides, the real celebrations can wait once we have Violet and Nox home.”

Home.

Home.

It was a strange word, once one truly put thought into it. What makes a place home? Truthfully, Sugar Springs hadn’t quite felt like home since his dad died. It felt even more foreign once his mom left and moved in with Uncle Dale. It felt only a bit more familiar when Deacon moved in for the summer. But still…

When he truly thought about it, his home was a number of places. It was here, in Sugar Springs, with his grandpa, Deacon, Prunella, Mrs. G, and the keys. It was wherever his mom was and her smile. It was in the cemetery at his father’s grave.

It was in Buddy’s arms.

When Chase truly put his thought into it, his home was so many places all at once.

And he hoped that, at least this place, this little home his father grew up in, that he grew up in, would also become a home to Buddy.

“Would you care for a dance?”

Silver’s words were gentle and though slowly carried him back to reality. “A dance? I’m not sure.” He laughed nervously. “I can’t lead, well, not as well as I would like. Buddy could vouch for that. And there’s also a pretty big height difference between us.”

Silver placed her hands on her hips and looked at him with a smug grin. “And since when has the seemingly impossible stopped you?” She leaned in with a sassy attitude that she must have picked up from interacting with Violet. “If I recall correctly, isn’t Chase Hollow, the future number one pop star in the world, known for making the impossible, possible?” Her smug and sassy demeanor turned into soft smiles as she placed her hand on one of Chase’s fingers. “You found my family. You found a way to help your mom. And above all, you found the island. I am sure you can find a way to dance with me.”

There was something in her words that made Chase’s heart shift. It made something wet threaten to prickle through his eyes. But he took in a deep breath and smiled.

“Thank you, Silver.”

Silver only nodded. “Of course. Now, hand me your finger.” She held out her hand and Chase awkwardly held out his pointer finger. Silver took the pad of his fingertip into her hand, she lifted up dress with her free hand.

Chase didn’t know when, but at some point, the music downstairs had turned into something soft and slow. He could tell it was a love song. A Thousand Years if he recalled correctly. He remembered it was one of his mom’s favorite songs. Though the song was clearly written in the context of a romantic relationship, his mother always said it reminded her more of family and friends.

Chase thought the same.

He led Silver slowly; he was careful not to move his finger too quickly or too much. Her dress swayed beautifully as she danced.

Truthfully, Chase thought about their height difference often. He thought about how unfair it was to Silver and her family to have to live in a world that was built for people twice their size. He wanted to take Silver and her family to rides. He wanted them to be able to spend time outside without the risk of a bird snatching them away in mistake of food. To be able to wander the halls freely without the worry of being stepped on. To explore Sugar Springs, and beyond this small little town.

He wasn’t sure if they wanted the same. But it was all Chase wanted for them.

He wanted them to be free.

He wanted Nox to be free.

Chase twirled Silver. Though, it seemed he didn’t do it carefully enough, for she stumbled on her footing for a moment. Chase quickly moved his free hand behind Silver and caught her. He had worried she had gotten hurt. But Silver was nothing but smiles.

“Sorry!”

“It is alright!” She regained her balance, but her smiled remained unchanged despite the almost tumble. Nothing bruised!”

Chase only hummed. “This would be easier if we were the same height.” The words were said absently, without much thought or reason.

“Perhaps. Though, I am content with this for now.”

Chase looked at Silver with arched eyebrows.

Because you’re truly happy like this? Or because you can’t be anything else but content?

“Sometimes…” Chase halted his words. Should he… should he truly say this? Should he truly share the thoughts he has been having in recent weeks? Or was it months now? He never uttered these thoughts to anyone, no one except Buddy. He had them once he learned Nox was a key, and he had them when he met Silver. The doubts were distant. Truthfully, everything felt distant right now.

But… if he felt safe with saying this words to anyone else, it would be Silver.

“Sometimes, I wonder what it’s like to be a key, or to be the same height as you all…” Like a kettle slowly reaching a boiling temperature, his mind began to sober up and return to reality. Oh God, should he really be saying this? What if he made things awkward? They’re dancing anymore—Silver is just standing there looking at him. What if he ruined the happiness she held just moments ago? “Sorry, that was random. It’s just… Buddy would talk to me about it sometimes. How different it felt… And I think about how unfair it is.” He needs to stop. Chase shook his head. “I don’t know, sorry, I’m just rambling.”

“No,” Silver shook her head softly. “no, it’s… quite alright…”

She didn’t say anything else. Oh God, what if he had ruined that happiness? What if he made her start spiraling again? What if—

“May I make a confession?” Her words were soft that Chase almost didn’t hear them. He tried to form words but his throat felt almost painfully dry. So, he only nodded instead.

“In truth, I myself have wondered what it would feel like to be human.” She began to take a few steps forward near the edge of the table. But she stopped quite a distance from the edge. She turned her head to look at Chase. “You know, I…” But then she turned her gaze back forward, as though ashamed to meet Chase’s eyes. “I knew Nox… back when he was human.”

“You… you what?”

Silver turned to Chase with a wistful smile. “At the time, his closest friend was my keyholder. She spoke of him so fondly, too. I could tell she cared for him greatly, just as much as he did for her.”

Chase couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his lips. “So, that’s why you call him ‘Nox’ so much.” Silver nodded with a small smile. “And… that girl. I’ve heard of her, too. Buddy’s… spoken to me about her. Not a lot. I don’t push him on it because I can… tell it hurts him to talk about her.”

“Do you know her name?”

“Ah, no.” Chase ducked his head bashfully. “Buddy’s never… told me that part.”

Silver smiled gently. “Diana.” Her gaze glided over to her family. “He called her ‘Diana’. She told me once that Nox was the one who named her.” She looked back at Chase. “She was also born on the island, so she was given a number, like Buddy.”

“Diana…” Chase whispered the words like a hushed prayer. They lingered on his lips as he tried to picture the girl Nox had spoken about so fondly. Chase fidgeted with his hands nervously. “Do you… do you think they…?”

“Oh, Heavens no!” Silver placed a hand on her chest with a smile. “I think they saw one another more as family. Like you and Deacon.” Silver traced her path back to Chase. “I spoke with her often, she was never quite fond of the rules emplaced on the island, so when she was able to, she would remove my key ring. Sometimes I caught sight and briefly spoke to Nox. Then, he was…” Silver placed her knuckles on her chin as she thought for a moment. “a bit more awkward. You could tell he didn’t quite know how to act around us.” She waved her hand. “But I digress, one night, Diana returned back to her room with a bandage on her hand. She was on kitchen duty that day, and there was a small incident with a fire. I was worried, of course, so I asked her what had happened. It soon became apparent to me that, despite her words and illustrious descriptions, I could not…” Silver held up her right hand and stared at it with a mixed expression. “… understand. I couldn’t understand the pain she was describing, the needle like pricks against her skin, the heat from the fire.” Her left hand rose up and wrapped itself around her right. “No matter what she said, I couldn’t piece together a picture of what it felt like.” Silver’s hands fell down, her fingers folded into one another neatly. “It was only then I realized, that I did not know what ‘heat’ felt like, or being cold, to be ill, hungry, and to cry. And while I recognized and realized that for some, I am lucky. I suddenly felt less…” She slowly turned back to Chase filled sorrowful eyes. “alive.”

Chase… didn’t know how to respond to that.

What do you say to a person who said something like that?

“Silver… I… I’m so sorry. I didn’t…”

Silver only smiled at him. “It is all right. You have made me feel more alive than I have felt in years.”

Chase wasn’t sure if he completely believed her words.

He wasn’t sure if Silver believed her own words.

“I…” He looked away ashamed. “I’m still sorry. I didn’t mean to make you recall more bad memories than I already did.”

“Chase,” He picked his head up and looked at Silver, who held a worried, but fierce look filled with love. “you didn’t make me do anything. I choose to look back on those memories of my own volition. And while it… may hurt me to do so for some, I do not regret it. I would rather life the rest of my life with that grief,” She placed her hand on her chest where a heart would be. “with the vivid memories of those tragedies, then to forget them. I grieve because I loved. And I will choose to love a thousand times over and experience that grief and tragedy a thousand times over, than to have never loved at all. I will always choose love, even if it means leaving the window open for tragedy to enter.”

Chase felt tears prickle around his eyes, but he blinked them away. He didn’t move his gaze away from Silver. “Silver, I… I don’t… I don’t know if I ca—”

“You,” She moved close to him and placed both of her small hands on his. She squeezed his hands as tightly as she could despite the size difference. Her hands were cool but they radiated a warmth similar to the one he felt from Ross and Simon. “choose to love, every day, Chase. You love your mom. And you love your father. You love Deacon, and you love Prunella, and Mr. Hollow, Mrs. G, your friends. You love us,” Her eyes shined in the light. “And you love Buddy.” Her voice wavered and her eyes scrunched. She looked like Danielle when she fought back tears. She looked human. “You have chosen love every day of your life. Even if you have never realized it. And you have experienced the tragedy that comes with it.” Her gaze fell as her lip quivered. “I know it is easier to talk about these things than to think and experience them.” She lifted her head and looked back at him. “But I think it is important that we do both. You experience this pain, because you love. I may…” He watched her swallow as her head fell with a pained expression, “I may never see Raven again.” She looked up to the ceiling as though she could blink away tears. “I may never hear his laugh again, I may never hear his voice and speak to him again, I may never feel his hugs again. I may wake up every day with this ache in my chest that calls my brother’s name.” Her head lowered back to Chase. Her gaze met his as she held something in her eyes that Chase couldn’t read. “But I am glad that I loved him. I am glad that I spent every day loving him. I am glad that I loved my brother with all of my being.” A smile, one that carried the weight of grief slowly curled on her lips. And as it grew, so did a small glimpse of joy in it. “Even if it means living the rest of my existence with this pain.”

“Silver, I…” He what? What did Chase want to say? Yes, he whispered those words, but he didn’t know what he wanted to say. He never thought of love that way. He never once thought that love and tragedy were intertwined with one another. He knew Silver missed Raven dearly, but he failed to realize just how deeply. How much were the keys suffering? How much grief and tragedy did they have to deal with? How much of it did they keep bottled up and hidden from view? How much of it had they accepted?

Perhaps… in that way, they weren’t keeping it hidden. They had simply… made amends with it. Yes, the pain is still there, and it won’t ever go away. But maybe… they had learned how to live with that pain.

Maybe Chase had a lot more to learn from the keys than he had thought.

“I’m so glad I met you.” He said with a soft smile. “Finding you, meeting you, was one of the best things in my life.”

Silver smiled at him. “And it is one of the best things in mine, as well.”

They didn’t say much of anything after that. Their silence had turned into something warm and comforting. They watched the rest of their tiny family dancing, the sound of music and the rest of their family downstairs laughing and talking.

The room filled with love. And Chase couldn’t remember the last time a room had felt this way.

Chase turned back to Silver, who was mesmerized by the sight of her family happy. He always knew Silver was strong, but it never occurred to him just how strong she was until now. Deacon had said the keys had been alive for a long time. But Chase never truly grasped just how long they had all lived, how long Silver had lived, how many times she must have been forced to face tragedy. Being taken from her home, Mathilda, Collette, Diana, the rest of her siblings, and now her brother.

And yet, despite it all, despite the pain and tragedy she has faced more than anyone should ever have to face. Despite all for all of them.

They are still here. And they still live. And they are alive.

They may not be made of flesh, or feel heat or the cold, they may not have a heartbeat, or be able to change their clothes or brush their hair. They may not be able to experience the sore throat one gets when they yell too much, or those lines that crease and press into your skin when you have a wonderful nap, a heart pumping adrenaline in your chest when you run, or the feeling of a hot shower or bath after a long day.

They may not be able to experience those things. But, as Chase sat her, staring at each of them, with their bright smiles and joyful eyes, he realized that they are still human. They may not have been born human. They may have never even experienced being human. But they are. They have every right to be called human as he does. To exist freely and however they wish.

They are human.

Chase sniffled as the hatch to the tower opened. Deacon’s head poked through the entrance. He must have noticed the redness on Chase’s cheeks. He opened his mouth to ask, but the smile on Chase’s face reassured his cousin that it was from happiness. For Deacon didn’t ask. He only smiled.

“The food’s ready. Grandpa wants you down to eat.”

Chase nodded with another sniffle as he rubbed his eyes with his sleeve. “’Kay, I’ll be down in a sec.”

Deacon nodded to Chase, waved to the keys, and then headed back down after closing the hatch.

“Well,” Silver stood and dusted off her dress. She stood tall to Chase and curtsied, “I shall see you tonight.”

Chase nodded as he took notice of Ro walking towards them. He was likely going to ask his sister for a dance. “Yeah.” He pushed himself up from the floor with a quiet groan. “And, Silver.”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

The smile that grew on her lips was filled with fondness.

It was that smile that made him realize something.

Silver looked at Chase like how she looked at her siblings.

“I love you too.”

—

Dinner.

Was flippin amazing.

Chase genuinely wondered if he had been transported to a five-star restaurant or something because HOLY CARP was that some good food.

And the pavlova, OH MY GOD, don’t even get him STARTED on the pavlova.

He was starting to feel a little better now. Even as he stood next to Grandpa Ralph at the sink. He was on dishes duty. Though, it wasn’t that much of a pain, since Ralph was the one washing the dishes and Chase was just drying them with a clean rag.

Prunella was off upstairs gathering her things, Deacon had gone to help her. Agatha had just finished placing the pots and pans back in their places before she went off to the restroom. Ross and Simon had just finished clearing off the table and dropping off the rest of the dishes to Chase and Ralph, before they headed to the living room.

The day was winding down. And with it, were the past twenty-four hours.

“You’re happier.”

Chase turned to his grandpa with a puzzled expression. “Am I?”

Ralph nodded. “Yes. A lot more happier.”

“Geez, I wonder why.”

Ralph gave Chase a look, but his tone was playful. “What it, boy, you can still—”

“Go over your knee.”

“—go over my knee—Hey! Don’t talk back!”

Chase busted into laughter at his grandfather’s scolding. He was barely able to take the dish Ralph was handing him to dry.

Chase sighed once the laughter subsided. “I feel like we’ve been so lucky today. We found the island, we found out we have an ancestor who worked for Ex-Libris. Even if that information didn’t help us find the island, just knowing that we had a connection to them…” Chase rubbed the rag over the plate. “I don’t know. It helps me feel better.”

“You know,” Ralph began to rinse another plate, “I read those letters so many times, I’ve lost count. Your grandmother read them even more than me.” He handed the plate over to Chase to dry. “And yet, I don’t think either of us would have ever thought Elisabeth would have been connected to such a group.”

“Wait, you know who Elisabeth is?!”

“Did you not hear a single word I said, boy?! Your grandmother and I have gone through that chest and read those letters. How else do you think that key got under the chest? From the glue they made in their factories in the seventeenth century?” He handed another place to Chase when he realized Chase was staring at him dumbfounded with a wet bowl. “Hey, dry that bowl, boy! We have a system here.”

“Okay. Okay.” Chase dried the bowl and placed it in the dish rack. “It’s just,” He took the plate his grandfather was holding out and began to dry that one. “a surprise to me, I guess.” He placed the dish in the rack with the others.

Ralph nodded as he handed yet another dish to Chase. “But yes, I know of her. She and Noel are the founders of our family. They are the farthest back we can trace our line to. You, me, your father, Deacon, and Dale, we can all trace back our lineage to those two. Our family began with them.”

“Wow, I… I guess I never thought of it that way.” Chase absently placed a cup in the rack.

“I didn’t either until I first went through the bin.” He handed Chase a mug. “You never quite think about how you are a love letter until you meet the origins of it face to face.” Ralph reached over the sink and twisted the knob of the faucet off. “That’s the last of them.” He ringed his hands over the sink and turned to Chase. “Thank you for your help, Charlie.”

Chase only nodded to his grandfather. Chase handed him a towel to dry his hands right as Mrs. G. walked in.

“Oh, you’re both done! Wonderful timing! Prunella and I are about to head out!” She walked towards the two and Chase was suddenly surrounded by warmth. It took him a moment for Chase to realize she was hugging him. “Everything will be okay.” Her words were hushed but filled with the same adoration that his mom held. “I’m so proud of you.” The warmth disappeared as she let go of him from the hug.

“Ah, let me walk you both home then.” Ralph said but Mrs. G began to talk about something regarding flowers and Chase immediately tuned out from that. So, he instead slinked his way out of the kitchen, past the dining room and into the living room. Where he met the sight of Deacon conversing with Ross and Simon while also handing Prunella her backpack.

Chase walked over to Prunella with a smile. “You have fun today, kid?”

Prunella hopped to adjust her backpack. “Fun is a very strong word. I was high entertained though.”

Why is she like this.

But Chase only sighed. His smile remained as he watched Ralph and Agatha walk into the living room. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Prunella nodded to Chase, she waved to him and the other boys before she joined her mom. Ralph opened the door for the both of them and walked outside with them.

“You’re babysitting again tomorrow?” Simon asked.

Aw, crap-baskets. “OH, uh, kind of? We’re gonna, uh,” Think Chase! “We’re gonna join Mrs. G tomorrow for some clothes shopping.” Holy CARP, he did not just come up with that on the fly.

“Oh, okay I… guess that makes sense?”

Chase turned to Ross before Simon thought about that a little too much and called Chase out on his BS. “You guys heading home?”

Ross nodded happily. “Yup!” He pointed to Simon with his thumb. “Gotta take this dude home first. And then I’ll head back to my place.”

“Alright, take care man.” Chase reached out to Ross for a hug, one his friend reciprocated. Ross patted his back in that reassuring way he always did. It was his way of telling others to take care of themselves.

Once they released, he turned to Deacon and shook his hand, then to Simon. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

Simon nodded as Ross walked out the living room and out the door. He turned to Deacon and said his goodbyes. Giving him a firm pat on the shoulder. They exchanged one last nod before Deacon headed upstairs. Chase and Simon’s eyes met, and they both walked to the front door.

“Hey, uh, thanks.” Chase said. “For coming over and stuff.”

Simon only shrugged with a lazy look. “Course man. You knew I was going to come over, though.”

“Yeah but… I don’t know. It’s… a lot has been happening lately.”

That lazy look in Simon’s eyes softened as he shifted. “I get that… I just. I want you to know you can talk to me, man. About anything. I know I…” He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. Chase couldn’t help the small smile as he thought back to Simon’s comment yesterday about struggling with comfort. Simon sighed. “We’re friends. And I care about you. I know actions speak louder than words, and all. But I just…” He shifted on his feet. “I’ll always be here. I’ll always support you, no matter what. I have your back.”

‘Don’t say that,’ Chase thinks, ‘Don’t say things that make me want to trust you.’

Because how could he not trust them? How could he turn his back on them? How can he not fall to the ground right now and let everything spill out in choked sobs, as he screams to the world how hard everything has been?

But he can’t.

This trust, this form of trust. It’s so much more than Chase thought it was. It’s not about trusting Simon to not betray him. It’s trusting Simon to take care of himself. To not get involved. To maintain an arm’s length distance. To not do anything foolish.

That… is what Chase is not sure he can trust Simon with.

Because Chase loved Simon. He was Chase’s best friend.

Chase would do anything for his best friend.

And he knew Simon would do the same.

So, instead, he smiled. He nodded with a grin stretched form ear to ear. “Okay.”

Simon’s arms are warm, they fill Chase with a form of love he has only ever felt with his friends. Simon has never truly been one for hugs, so it surprised Chase. The hug in the car was already quite a surprise, but another only two hours later, on the same day?

But his hugs are warm.

And they’re filled with love.

Love and tragedy…

If he were to tell Simon everything. If he were to confess it all to Simon. If he were to allow Simon in, would it end in tragedy? Would it end with his best friend betraying him? Or hurt?

Or killed?

Would Chase be able to welcome that tragedy with open arms? Was he willing to allow himself to love that deeply if it meant something tragic?

Oh, how badly he wanted to….

He wasn’t sure. Chase didn’t know if he could do that to Simon. To Simon’s little brother, his parents, their friends.

To himself.

Chase wasn’t sure if that made him selfish. If it meant he didn’t love enough. Or if he loved too much.

But if he held the power to stop a tragedy, why wouldn’t he?

Chase held a part of his entire world in his arms, and he kept his heart locked.

If it meant keeping Simon, Ross, Danielle, his mom, Uncle Dale, and even Aunt Beth… if it meant keeping them all safe.

Then he would gladly keep his heart locked forever.

He would happily take whatever it took to keep them safe.

“I’ll see you later.” Is all Chase said to him though. No confession. No tears. Nothing.

Yes…

He trusts Simon.

Which is why he can’t tell him anything.

—

Chase was quick to take care of himself. He had been feeling greasy and gross the past few days. But it didn’t occur to him just how bad it was until he ran his hands through his fingers and saw them shining in the light.

So, yeah. NO.

He emptied his pockets and placed his wallet and the library card into a bag on the side. His grandpa had mentioned they were going to visit Kowalski tomorrow. Who apparently not only had a hobby in buying and collecting boats, but also building them, which was all sorts of cool to Chase.

He took a shower (thank GOD) and changed into the most comfortable pair of pajamas he could find. Silver was on night watch duty that night. And he helped her set up her little makeshift bed in a little corner of his mattress. He said his goodnights to Deacon and Ralph, and each of the keys. He made sure to close the hatch to the tower, turned on his fan, and made himself comfortable under the warm blankets.

Silver was crocheting, but the moonlight provided her with enough light. He knew she was going to stay awake until he fell asleep. And she had done so for the past three weeks.

He hummed a tune from the lullaby his mom and dad used to sing to him. And for the first time in almost a month, he felt his body relaxed. His teeth unclenched as the tips of his fingers loosened.

Sleep came to him easily that night. And he was so grateful for it.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚　　　　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　 　　 　　　　 ✦

Chase dreamt of flowers.

No, wait, that wasn’t entirely accurate. There were flowers, yes, in a red vase. Their petals were wide and colored in different shades of pink, purple, red and white. He couldn’t place a name on them; they looked like generic flowers to him. On the right was another set of flowers in a deep purple vase. The flowers hung down, not from wilting, but from gravity. They were a pure white color, and these, Chase knew the name of; they were Snapdragons, one of his mom’s favorites.

A strange-looking candle holder stood on the table as well. It held a thin but long neck that flattened to a wide sphere at the bottom. The top created an upside-down dome look, sort of like a bowl, a candle gently flickered in it.

Chase realized the table was not a table. But rather a vanity, with a mirror in the front and center. Painted with accents of gold and purple.

A figure was gently lit with the flickering light of the flame. They sat on a small chair in front of the mirror. Chase felt his body move towards the vanity, towards the figure. And as he grew closer, the flame lit up pale skin, dark hair, and light blue eyes in the reflection in the mirror.

Buddy.

He sat at the vanity as he slowly picked out orange and purple flowers from his hair. Chase believed the purple ones were lilacs.

Chase placed his hands behind his back as he leaned down to Buddy.

“How was it?” He asked.

Buddy’s smile held a bit of dryness. “It was alright. If a bit loud.”

Chase only chuckled lightly at the response. “That is because it was a homecoming party. They typically are.” His face scrunched into worry as Buddy’s movements stalled. “Was it too much for you?”

“No.” Their eyes met through the reflection for a moment. Before Nox twisted in his seat to face Chase properly. “Because you were there.”

Chase felt his lips grow wide and he leaned his forehead against Buddy’s. “I’m so happy you’re home.” He whispered.

Nox whispered back in hushed happiness. “Me too…”

“… ie…!”

Chase didn’t know what it was. But for a brief moment, a vague voice appeared. The world turned black and disappeared all at once.

He’s left alone.

He desperately turns around and searches. But he’s only meant with the same black void of the world. He feels something rise up in his throat and he wants to cry.

He doesn’t know what’s happening. He doesn’t understand. Where’s Nox? He just got him back, he can’t lose him again. What is—

“… rile… up—!”

Chase’s hands shook as his turns became aggressive and wild.

Until one brings him to an abrupt halt when he catches sight of a blurred face. They’re staring back at him. They’re saying something, their mouth opened and it forms words, but Chase can’t hear a single thing.

It’s not that this person is faceless, but he just can’t see their face.

“… ar… ie… up!”

In an instant their face becomes clear. An older woman stared back at him with deep brown eyes. Her hair in short whisps whirl around her as an old medieval dress flowed around her like flowers thrown into the air from a gust of wind.

Her words become clear as Chase sees pure terror in her face as her hands grip his shoulders harshly.

“Charlie! Wake up—!”

Chase’s body jolted like something electrifying shocked him. He barely lets out a sharp gasp before a hand roughly slams onto his mouth.

Oh my god.

He can’t see. The room is too dark. Where’s Silver? Is she still next to him?! What if they’ve already taken her?! Where is she? WHERE IS SHE?!

His wrestling brain kicks in, and he instantly claws his nails into the skin of the perpetrator. One on the wrist of the hand against his mouth, and the other at the other arm. He digs his nails into their skin and is just about to start thrashing his body around when the perpetrator’s other hand grabs Chase’s.

“Shhh! Chase, stop!”

The words are harsh, they’re said through gritted teeth.

And then the moonlight hits the figure. Blue eyes, brown hair, and freckles come into view.

It’s not a kidnapper.

It’s Deacon.

Chase is ready to all but lick his cousin’s hand and scream at him when he catches sight of a wild and fearful look in Deacon’s wide eyes.

“Someone’s in the house.”

Chapter Text

Chase suddenly can’t breathe. He feels his chest rise and fall and his lungs get filled with air, but it’s not enough. He wants to scream, he wants to twist his head and grab Silver and lunge into the tower and grab the rest of their family. He wants to do all of that, but he can’t move. No matter how much he tries to will his legs to get up or his arms to reach out to the side, he can’t move a muscle. And it makes something fuzzy and unsettling and awful rise in his chest and climb up his throat, and it takes every inch of him not to gag. And—

The pressure against his mouth lifted gently as Deacon removed his hand. And in an instant air filled his lungs and it gave Chase even just a semblance of being okay and normal again.

That lasted for half a second before Chase flipped over to his right and saw Silver sleeping peacefully in her makeshift bed. The moonlight hit her perfectly so Chase could see her small figure there. Silver was still here. She was safe. They hadn’t gotten her yet.

“Silver.” The words were so low they were like a flame flickering in the darkness. Like the soft buzzing of his fan that filled the room. But despite his hushed tone, he cringed at how loud it seemed compared to the rest of the house. He gently shook her with his finger as his voice remained hushed. “Silver, wake up. Come on, please.”

She stirred gently; she made soft groans as she stood up. She rubbed her eye in a sleepy haze and was about to ask Chase what was going on, but he held a finger to his lips.

There was no way for them to talk without being too loud.

Despite not knowing what was happening, Silver understood what he was asking her to do. Her eyes widened and a fear of look filled them.

Okay. Okay. Think, Chase. Think! There has to be a way for them to talk without being too loud. Think Chasey, think! There has to be a way to be quiet…

Out of all things to remember, Chase remembers the movie A Quiet Place. They spoke in that movie sometimes. It was with a waterfall, with the dad and son. Something about it being background noise or some such thing.

Chase glanced around his room. He didn’t have his own personal waterfall, but he did have a fan that was already turned on.

Chase pointed to the buzzing fan and Deacon understood immediately. Silver was still a bit confused, but she still nodded and allowed Chase to scoop her up from her bed. Chase carefully slid off his bed. He was extra careful to avoid making it creak.

The three of them moved until they were right in front of the fan, the cousins crouched in front of the fan. The buzzing from the machine drowned out their voices so much that Chase almost couldn’t hear his own panicked breathing.

“Where’s grand—”

“He’s okay.” Deacon whispered the words. They blended in almost perfectly with the fan as he looked at the door. Chase turned to look as well, and a tiny bit of relief filled him when he saw the door had been locked. Deacon must have locked it when he entered. “He woke me up.” Chase turned back at his cousin and saw him shake his head. “Said he had a weird dream. Went downstairs to get some water, then heard someone trying to open the front door. Said the knob kept turning.” Deacon’s eyes locked with Chase’s. “He said the back door was open.”

Chase felt his heart dropped into the Earth’s core. Did they lock the back door? He thought they did, but he wasn’t sure. He didn’t ask anyone before he went to bed. He didn’t even check the door. He just went to his room and fell asleep.

Someone broke into their home while they slept. Someone opened their door while they rested.

Chase wanted to throw up. He wanted to cry and fall to the floor, and scream. He wanted to go back to bed and hope this was some kind of nightmare, and that when he woke up again, it would be the morning, and everything would be fine. Everything would be okay, and their home would be intact, and the keys would be here, and no one would have broken in—

Chase didn’t realize he was spiraling into a pit of despair and anxiety until firm hands landed on his shoulders. His vision returned and he saw blue eyes looking into his brown ones. And those eyes, those eyes, they held so much fear. There was so much fear in them that Deacon held closed off. That he was trying not to let leak into the world.

“Chase. Chase listen to me.” Even through his words, Deacon tried to sound brave. “We need to get the keys. Grandpa said for us all to go to Aunt Myra’s room, he said he’ll meet us there.”

Chase heard the words. He did, he truly did. But he didn’t understand them. He did, but at the same time they made no sense. He tried to. He really did. But he could only think about how someone might be outside his door, in the hallway. How someone was downstairs and looked through their things as he and Deacon sat there panicking.

“Chase!” The words were still hushed as Deacon shook him lightly. Chase felt his mind return to reality. “Listen to me! What did I say?”

“Ah, uhm… Keys. Mom’s room. Grandpa meets us there.”

Deacon nodded. “Good.”

Something muffled rattled through the walls and up into Chase’s room. It sounded like as though a glass had been dropped and shattered onto the floor. It was low and muffled enough that Chase was almost sure it came from downstairs, but…

The boys turned to the door. Frozen in their own fear and anxiety as they waited for the sound of footsteps to appear and the door to open.

But nothing like that happened.

Even as Deacon turned back to Chase with wild eyes, there was uncertainty in his words. “Let’s go.”

Chase stood from the floor carefully, he held Silver to his chest as he rose. But if he was being honest, he felt like he wasn’t here. Like someone else was controlling his body and he was simply watching. He knew it wasn’t true. Chase knew that he was the one doing all of this. But it didn’t feel like it.

Chase stood on his toes as he reached for the string on the hatch. But a hand held his arm and stopped him.

“Wait. It’s too loud.”

Right, the hatch creaks every time they open it.

Shit. Okay. Okay. What do they do now? How can they get the keys? Chase could try climbing out of his window and pull himself up to the tower windows. Wait, but those windows don’t open. At least he thinks they don’t. He’s never actually tried to open them before. And that’s only if he doesn’t slip and break his neck. There had to be another way to get the keys. He can’t leave them here. He can’t. God fucking dAMN IT WHY DID HE HAVE TO FUCKING CLOSE IT, THERE WAS NO REASON TO CLOSE IT ANYMORE. FUC—

Okay. No. No. He can’t spiral like this. He needs to pull himself together. Think! Think! There had to be something to help him get in there without opening the hatch. There had to be something. He could his chair to get some height and climb into the tower. But his chair was flimsy, and if he didn’t balance himself correctly he would fall over and the chair would roll away, and that will make way too much noise and then they’ll be found and the door will be broken open and—

Chase’s gaze landed on his cousin’s shoulders, and a lightbulb went off.

“Sit by the bed.” Chase whispered the words quickly as he rushed over to his night table next to his bed.

“What?”

“I’m going to get on your shoulders,” He placed Silver on his nightstand. “and climb into the tower.” He carefully crawled onto his bed to avoid making it creak.

“Chase what— that’s nuts!” Despite Deacon’s protests, he obliged and sat on the floor with his shoulders against the edge of the bed.

“I’m not leaving the keys.” Chase swung his legs over Deacon’s shoulders. “I know you won’t either.” Deacon turned his head around and the cousins’ locked eyes for a brief moment. “And we don’t have any other ideas right now.” Chase carefully pushed himself onto Deacon’s shoulders, he made sure he had some semblance of a balance. “I’m ready.”

Deacon waited for a moment, and while Chase understood why—Deacon wasn’t exactly the strongest person in their family—he couldn’t help but hope Deacon would hurry. Deacon took in a deep breath and carefully pushed himself away from the edge of the bed. Chase adjusted himself a little bit. He already felt a little wobbly, but he can’t fall off.

Deacon shifted onto his knees and somehow suppressed a groan as he brought out a knee and rose to his feet.  He leaned back just a bit too much and quickly took a step back.

Chase really hoped that nobody heard that.

Deacon moved carefully over to the entrance of the tower as Chase spoke. “I’m going to open the hatch.” Chase held onto Deacon’s head, but he did his best not to pull on his cousin’s hair. “But I need you to hold the ladder. The door doesn’t make noise, but the ladder does.” Chase pushed his right hand against the surface of the hatch. His arm trembled lightly as he did his best not to lose his balance. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Chase barely managed a small nod before he realized that it was a bad idea while on his cousin’s spaghetti noodle of shoulders. Chase carefully reached out to the string on the hatch door and slowly pulled on it. But he didn’t get all that far before he felt his body wobble just a tiny bit.

He held onto Deacon’s head tightly. He can’t fall. He can’t lose his balance. It’ll be too loud. He can’t fall. He can’t.

He regained his balance and reached back out to the string. His hands wrapped around the plastic part and looked down at Deacon. Who held his right arm up and ready to catch the ladder. They exchanged a nod to one another. And Chase looked back up at the string as he carefully let go of Deacon’s head and held out an arm to catch the ladder just in case.

Here goes nothing.

He tugged on the string softly and caught the hatch in his hands softly. He felt his arms begin to shake as his right hand let go of the string and went out to reach for the ladder. The hatch opened much wider, and he caught the ladder. He carefully lowered it into Deacon’s hands, who held it firmly.

Chase could feel Deacon losing his strength.

Okay, he had to move, there wasn’t enough time.

Chase reached up and passed the entrance to the tower. He raised his arms over the floor of the tower until his hands laid flat against the floor. His hands were shaking, and he kind of needed them to NOT do that right now.

He pushed his arms against the floor to raise himself up. He raised his left leg up and hiked his knee and calf over and onto the floor.

He did his best to keep his groans in; he couldn’t make any noise. He couldn’t risk that. He couldn’t make his struggle obvious; he had to keep it in.

With his leg up and on the floor, the hard part was officially over. He pushed his arms and leg against the floor and raised himself very slowly from Deacon’s shoulders and onto the floor. With both legs up and on the ground again, he went on all fours. He took a moment to catch his breath.

He brought his feet onto the floor and stood up.

It took him half a second to realize that it was a mistake.

The trees were dense, and despite it being difficult to see through them; he could make out a few darkened figures making their way out of the forest and towards their home. The sky lit up for a brief second and gave him a clear view of the figures.

He buckled his knees and he fell to the floor as the sky roared with thunder.

Shit. Fuck. FUCK. He hoped they didn’t see him.

Okay. Okay. No. He needed to stay calm. Deacon was counting on him. Silver was counting on him.

His family was counting on him.

“Chase!” Deacon’s voice was hushed but it was enough to drag Chase out of his spiral and back into reality.

Chase turned back to the hatch to see Deacon holding up the bag Chase had placed his wallet in earlier. He quickly reached down and grabbed from Deacon’s hands.

Deacon didn’t say anything, but Chase knew his cousin’s arm was getting tired.

Chase crawled over to the homes they had built for the keys. It felt like so long ago when they were making a list for each key of how they pictured their home, and what they wanted in them.

He hoped that Ex-Libris wouldn’t destroy their houses.

One might think it was a little silly to worry about something like that. They could easily remake them with such simple items. It wasn’t that difficult to build them in the first place. But it’s where Chase’s mind was. It was what he worried about.

Even now, as he leaned over that tiny village they built as the windows became blurred with raindrops, he worried about those homes. “Everyone, wake up!” He kept his voice low and hushed. But he couldn’t deny the fear and urgency that made his voice shake

Ruby and Iron were the first to wake. While others, like Jade and Serpentine, took a moment, and awoke with a face of drowsiness.

Ruby sat up quickly when they saw Chase’s face, and their face scrunched in worry. “Chase? What is the matter?”

“We…” He tried to catch his breath. “We need to go. They found us.”

As the words left his mouth, he’s reminded of the last time he saw Buddy. And it’s like the light is switched on.

Copper immediately scrambled to his feet and began to climb the roof of Silver’s home. He ran to Terrance to wake up Bronze. Goldie made a beeline to Jade and Rose, while Ruby ensured each one of their siblings woke up.

Once Sapphire rose from her bed, Ruby turned to Chase, their coat flew in the air as they turned. “Where do you need us?” Their tone turned serious, and their face stern.

Chase had never seen Ruby make a face like this before.

“Charlie!” Their words were hushed, but they were able to snap Chase into action,

He quickly pulled his bag forward and unzipped a small front pocket of the bag. “I need all of you to get in here. It’s not going to be fun, or comfortable, and it’s going to be really bumpy. But it’s all we have right now. I’m sorry I can’t do better.”

Ruby nodded and motioned for their siblings to the bag. Each one of them formed a line in front of Chase. Chase held out his hand and carefully placed each of them into the pocket. Jade was the last to go before Ruby. But she paused as she stepped onto his hand.

“Jade?”

“Do not apologize, Chase. You are doing your best.”

It didn’t feel like it.

Chase carefully lifted Jade up and placed her into the pocket. He was extra careful with her little wings.

“Where’s Silver?” Ruby asked as Chase held out his hand. The tower lit up briefly as lightning struck the Earth somewhere.

“Downstairs with Deacon.” Chase said the words quickly. “He’s holding the ladder up. No noise. Come on.” Ruby stepped onto Chase’s hand, and he placed them into the pocket.

Chase took one last look at his tiny family as the sky boomed. “This is going to be bumpy and rough. I’m sorry. Hold on to one another. I’m going to zip up the pocket so none of you fall out. It’ll only be for a minute.”

The keys nodded to him and Chase zipped up the pocket.

Okay. Okay. It was time to go.

Chase crawled back to the hatch; he hovered there for a moment before he stole a glance through the window once more. Some of the members were closer now, but they weren’t inside just yet. They looked as though they had on raincoats, which made sense. And… it looked like they were holding lanterns?

Chase shook his head. He could ask questions later; he had to get his family out of here.

Chase swung his legs over the entrance of the hatch. Deacon slowly moved away to the other side of the hatch to avoid being struck by Chase’s legs. Chase sat there for a moment as he collected his breath. He then shifted his body around and slowly lowered himself down as his arms held his weight. He slowly shifted his arms lower until it was just his hands that held him up. The room lit up once more, and it gave him an idea. He dangled there for a moment before he slowly began to let go. The sky roared with thunder and felt his feet make contact with the floor.

Despite making little to no sound, the room froze. Deacon’s eyes were fixed onto the door. And they waited. Chase wasn’t sure how long they waited, but it felt like an eternity. After a while, Deacon began to slowly push the tower door closed with a very soft snap.

Chase turned to Deacon. “I got them.” He turned to his night stand and walked over to Silver as he unzipped the front pocket. “Silver, I’m so sorry, but—”

Silver only nodded with a stern expression with empathy “Do not apologize. I understand. Do what is necessary.”

Chase only nodded as he held out his hand to Silver. She lifted her dress and stepped onto his palm, and he carefully placed her in the pocket. He took in each and every one of the siblings, who stared up at him with a mixture of expressions. Each one held worry or fear. “We’ll… we’ll be okay. I promise.”

He looked away from the keys before they could respond.

“What else do we need?” He asked Deacon whose hands were in his pajama pants as though he was searching for something.

He looked up at Chase with panicked look. “I uh… I got my credit card.” He handed it to Chase. “Put it in there.”

“I uh… my flashlight.” Chase said as he placed Deacon’s credit in the main, much larger pocked of the bag that was separate to the one the keys were in. “I think it’s still in my other bag.” Chase gestured his head to the direction of the teal and black bag in the corner that still held a large hole in the bottom. Deacon nodded and went over to the torn bag, but as he handed Chase the flashlight his eyes widened.

“Shit. The notes over Evrarad. I left them in my room; I don’t want them to get them.”

“Okay, uh, we’ll uh,” Chase shook his head, “fuck, uhm. Okay, we can stop by ther—”

“No. I… I’ll go get them.” Deacon had already made it halfway across Chase’s room when Chase grabbed his arm.

“Deacon, don’t go alone.”

Don’t leave me here alone.

“I’ll be fine. The stairs are right across from your room. Just… focus on what else might come in handy, okay? I’ll be back in a moment.”

Deacon turned around and pulled his arm out of Chase’s grip. Chase reached out, but he felt glued to the ground. He didn’t do anything but stared at his cousin as he placed his ear against the door. His grip dug into the fabric of the strap around his body as Deacon slowly unlocked the door. The door creaked very quietly, and it made Chase want to run under his bed.

But he didn’t.

He just stood there, and watched his cousin slip through the crack of the door before he slowly closed it.

Chase took a step forward and was ready to lock the door. But if he did that… how would Deacon get back in.

Chase froze in his steps.

Fuck, they should have talked about this more.

Okay, okay, whatever. It didn’t matter anymore. Deacon was gone. Hopefully sneaking up the stairs now. And Chase was here. Alone. In an unlocked room. With pouring rain with lighting and thunder. Where anybody could have entered at any point. Totally okay. Totally normal. Chase was definitely not going to fucking scream.

He knew the keys were there with him. So, he knew he wasn’t alone. But he didn’t want to admit that he felt alone. That if someone walked through that door, it would only be up to him to protect the keys. That it would just be him to fend off Ex-Libris. He was the only person here of his size who could fight them off. How could he protect himself and the keys at the same time?

No. No. No. There was no time for such selfish thoughts and moments of panic. He had to move. Chase turned around and scanned his room. Deacon said to grab whatever else they might need. So, what else? What else is there?

“What else? What else? Uh… phone! Phone and… my journals, and uh, chargers.”

He rushed over to his nightstand and unplugged his phone and tossed it into the bag. He unplugged his charger and sis the same. He went over to the torn bag and pulled out the journals and notes they made over the island. They weren’t really important now. But he didn’t want Ex-Libris to know they had found the island.

Shoes. Right. He needs shoes. Thank God he fell asleep with his socks on. Where did he place them?

He caught sight of his teal shoes on the side of his bed and quickly walked over to them. He slowly lowered himself to the floor and sat down.

He became all too aware of his breathing. It panicked and jagged, and though it was hushed, it felt too loud. He fumbled with his shoes, and it wasn’t until he was trying to tie them when he realized just how badly his hands were shaking.

Chase held his hands up in front of him. He couldn’t even make out the shape of his fingertips or nails from the movement. Their forms reduced to a vague shape of skin as his hands vibrated in and out of space.

Okay. He can’t tie his shoes. Just. Uh, tuck them in for now. Yeah. That’ll have to do for now.

He tucked them in and under his feet. He couldn’t risk the laces slipping out and making him fall.

What else? Was there anything else? Anything at all?

Chase examined his room once more, and on his desk stood that small wooden box.

The letters.

Chase stumbled to his feet and over to the desk. He didn’t know if he made any noise or not, but for the sake of his the keys safety, he hoped he didn’t.

He held the box in his hands. And though he didn’t need to, he undid the latch. And there were each of the letters. Still folded perfectly and neatly in the small space.

Something wet wanted to crawl up and spill from his eyes. He wanted to crumble to the floor and ball himself up. He wanted to let this awful feeling of panic and fear in his chest to just take over and make him a hyperventilating mess as he sobbed for it all to be over.

But he can’t.

He needed to be here. Here, and nowhere else.

Silver needed him.

The keys needed him.

Ralph needed him.

Deacon needed him.

Chase needed a moment to rest.

Focus, Chase. Focus. Focus. Focus. What else did he need? What else should he get?

He didn’t know. He couldn’t think of anything else. His eyes rapidly scanned the room, but he couldn’t think of anything else. There were cups on his desk that had pencils, scissors, a ruler, erasers, books—

Chase heard a soft thump in the hallway. And his head turned like a deer in headlights.

Oh God, right, he left it unlocked. Oh God. Oh God.

He felt the keys shuffle in the pocket and muffled speaking. Oh God, were they speaking to him this whole time? If they were, why didn’t he hear them? Were they telling one another to be quiet?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What does he do? He had to protect them. He had to watch over them. He had to reunite with Nox. He had to save Violet and Buddy.

There was so much he had to do.

The doorknob shifted with a metal creak, and Chase’s head whipped back over to his desk. Where the scissors seemed to glow in the moonlight.

Chase wouldn’t go down without a fight. They would have to pry his family out of his cold, dead hands.

His desk was next to his door, but it didn’t matter. Maybe it would help him. Chase rushed over to his desk and grabbed the scissors. His right hand gripped them by the handle as he ringed his left fingers through the hoops.

The doorknob began to twist ever so slightly. And Chase swallowed his nerves and his heart as he held up the scissors. He willed his hands to stabilize as he crept to the door quietly.

Could he really do this? Could he really stab someone? It was one thing to hurt someone in wrestling and pin them down. It was another thing to risk injuring someone to the point where their life would be in danger.

But if it came down to it, would Chase be able to take a life to save his family?

He didn’t have an answer to that.

Chase wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer to that.

And besides, he would find out at any moment as the door crept open. His legs felt weak, like they would go out on him at any moment. He felt like he was going to fall apart and shatter as the door revealed a figure.

Chase raised the scissors as he caught sight of a familiar pattern of freckles and lame brown hair.

The relief that filled his chest was one of the best feelings Chase had ever experienced as he watched his cousin reenter the room and lock the door. Chase lowered the scissors and leaned against the wall as his cousin held out a yellow folder.

“I got them.”

Chase snatched the folder out of his cousin’s hands. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry.” Deacon said it, but his eyes widened as he saw his cousin place the folder in the bag along with a sharp pair of scissors. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Chase whispered. “I’d rather be scared by a dork then be fighting for my life and safety right now.” Chase’s eyes met Silver’s rose-colored gemmed eyes. And it made him remember an old, leathered journal. “What about the diary?”

Deacon swore under his breath. “I think it’s downstairs.”

“Crap.” Deacon ran his hand through his hair. “Okay. We can try to get them?”

“Is there even enough time to get them?”

“Maybe? We can try. We just need to tell grandp—”

Something from the bag buzzed loudly and aggressively. And Chase swore under his breath as he fumbled with the bag.

Buzz! Buzz!

“Shit!” He fumbled through the folder and the flashlight and god fUCK, HOW HARD WAS IT TO FIND ONE PHONE?!

Buzz! Buzz!

“Chase!”

“I’m trying!” He shoved his hand between the papers and journals until his hand wrapped around a familiar piece of metal. God, where was the thunder, it wouldn’t shut up a minute ago!?

Buzz! Buzz!

“Who is even texting you?!” Deacon whispered the words through gritted teeth. “It’s almost four in the morning!”

Chase fumbled with his phone as he turned it on and was flash banged with his home screen.

Danielle

            5 New Messages

“It’s Danielle!” Chase quickly set his phone to silence. “She must be texting about Buddy.”

“At three in the morning?!”

“I don’t know, Dorkin! I don’t know her sleep schedule—!”

There was a thump in the hallway and both boys twisted their heads to the door.

Chase suddenly felt like there was no air. He couldn’t get enough oxygen in his lungs. His chest rose and fell at concerning speed, but he couldn’t think about that at all. He didn’t notice Deacon place an arm in front of him and slowly pushed them both back.

“Keys.”

Deacon’s words were so quiet, that if Chase’s heart had been hammering any louder into his eardrums, he would have missed it. But by some miracle, he heard the words. And despite the little control he had over his hands as they shook, he was able to find that front pocket. He muttered something that sounded like an apology and zipped up the pocket.

And then they waited. They stood in silence and stared in sickening fear at the door. They waited for it to be kicked down. They waited for someone to tackle them. They waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And then there was silence.

Deacon was the first to move, and Chase followed him slowly. Both boys pushed their ears against the door. And they looked for any sound of movement, breathing, talking, anything at all.

But there was nothing.

Chase didn’t say it. Neither did Deacon. But they both hoped that whoever it was had given up and went back downstairs.

Chase and Deacon exchanged a look. It was time to go. If those people from outside had gotten in, then they didn’t have long before more of them came upstairs.

It was no or never.

Chase slowly wrapped his hand around the knob, and gave one last look at Deacon, who nodded.

The door unlocked with a soft click, and Chase slowly opened the door.

He expected the hallway. With the bookshelf across from him, and the carpet and the chests and boxes they always kept there. All gently lit from the moonlight.

But it wasn’t.

Instead, he was met with someone’s back, covered in head to toe in black. He turned around slowly; his shoulders were broad. His hair was dark just like his eyes, and—

A young man with broad shoulders was looking over the section of alcohol.

Chase wanted to throw up.

How long had they been here in town?

Sirens went off in Chase’s head. His body tightened and his twitched in anger.

To Chase’s surprise, his first instinct was to tackle the man.

Until he remembered his tiny family in the front pocket.

Chase twisted his body, he pushed the bag behind his back and gripped the straps tightly.

The room lit up and made that face clear as a grin appeared on the man’s face. It made Chase want to throw up. It made him want to scream and it felt like it sucked the breath out of his body.

He had to protect them.

He had to protect the keys.

He had to protect Deacon.

He wanted his Mom.

“Well.” His words were low and dark. “Look what we have her—”

The sky screamed in fury with thunder, and as it did so, the man’s head twisted as if something wooden was thrown against it. Familiar thick arms caught the man’s body and gently lowered and rested him onto the ground.

“Grandpa!” Chase cried quietly as something wet welled up in his eyes. He ran to his grandfather like a child running to their parents after school.

Ralph caught his grandson with one arm and wrapped it tightly around him. Chase was held tightly as Ralph took in Chase’s safety. He looked up at Deacon and extended his other arm. It didn’t take long for Deacon to accept the hand and be pulled into a tight embrace as well.

For a moment, Chase felt safe. He felt protected. He felt like everything would be okay. He didn’t feel like he had to be brave. Like he had to put everyone and everything else before him because it was the right thing to do.

For a moment, he was a child again being held by his grandfather. And for a moment, that was all Chase needed.

“You’re both safe…” His words were so quiet, that had the rain been just a bit louder. Had it hit against the surface of the windows and the house any harder, Chase would have missed it. But he didn’t. “Thank God…”

They were grown. They were adults. But they were still his grandchildren.

And Ralph would do anything for them.

Chapter Text

The embrace only lasted for a few more seconds before Ralph pulled away and placed a hand on each grandson. “Myra’s room. Now.”

Ralph didn’t move his hands as he scanned the hallway. His gaze examined eve inch of the area; they lingered on the staircase for a heartbeat longer than everything else, before he gestured his head to door of Myra’s room.

Ralph moved to the side where he could face the staircase, and he motioned for the boys to move forward. Chase obeyed silently, and he clutched the bag as he rushed down the hall and to the door of his mother’s room. He went to reach for the doorknob before his hand froze and hovered over the knob.

His hand had been shaking and fear surrounded and swallowed him. His mom’s room. The room she hadn’t seen in months. The room that was once his parents’ room.

Something in his bag shifted and it was enough to knock Chase back into reality. He gathered himself together and opened the door.

For a brief second, the world felt normal. It felt like he was just visiting his mom early in the morning. Like Grandpa Ralph was downstairs getting ready to cook breakfast as sunlight filtered through the clear glass of their windows. His mom at her dresser as she slipped on a watch before heading over to school for her teaching job.

For brief, blissful second, Chase’s life felt normal.

But as the door opened wider, that blissful memory was destroyed and replaced by a darkened room. A clean and organized bed was made that hadn’t been undone in months. The curtains were drawn closed, and even from the door Chase could see the layer of dust on the dresser and the items left behind.

Chase thought that the next time he entered this room again, it would be after the wish. After finding Buddy and reuniting in person. Bringing his mom home with a healthy and strong body, with Nox by his side as a human. He thought the next time he would re-enter this room, everything would be normal.

He never thought it would be in circumstances like this.

A hand wrapped around Chase’s arm and dragged him into the room. Deacon had a grave look in his face, but his eyes held fear.

With both boys in the room, Ralph quickly entered the bedroom. He turned around, gripped the doorknob and began to push the door close.

Chase had never seen his grandfather move so slowly. Despite his age, Ralph moved as though he was still in his early years. Perhaps not as quickly, but definitely just as strongly. He never had a reason to move so slowly, not even when he was meticulously decorating cakes that would be entered into a baking competition.

He moved as though his bones couldn’t handle even just a fraction more of the speed. As though if he moved any faster the world would have collapsed and shattered.

And in a way, it would. For if Ralph moved any faster, he would have run the risk of alerting the strangers in their home.

He would have placed his world, which stood behind him, holding one another, in danger.

And he couldn’t do that.

So, he moved slowly. He closed the door at an agonizingly slow speed, and he turned the lock at the same slow speed.

He didn’t move for a moment, not even after the lock clicked quietly. He turned to the boys, but his eyes didn’t leave the door. He held a finger to his lips before he pushed his ear against the wood.

And he stood there. Chase wasn’t sure how long, but he stood there. Listening. Waiting. The only sound that filled the room was hushed, ragged breathing.

Ralph turned to the boys after an uncertain amount of time had passed.

“Did you get them?” Chase wasn’t sure of the last time he heard his grandpa speak so softly.

Regardless, Chase nodded hastily. “Y—Yeah.” His gaze fell to the bag as he unzipped the pocket. The keys heads were turned up as they were opened back up to the world. “They’re all right here.”

Relief flooded Ralph’s face. Especially when his gaze landed on Iron. He went quiet for a moment. He turned his head back to the door before he took a few steps to his grandsons.

“Boys, listen to me carefully.” His eyes looked grave, and it made Chase feel sick. “I’m going to go down first. You’re both going to follow me to the end of the stairs.” Somehow his eyes shifted into something that stabbed knives into Chase’s chest. “When I move, you move. When I stop, you stop. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to leave me, you leave me.”

Those words made dinner bubble up Chase’s throat as he lost control of his breathing. He shook his quickly. “Grandpa—” He lost control of his volume and his voiced cracked. Ralph only shushed him quietly. His hand went behind Chase’s head as he pulled his grandson into his shoulder.

“Grandpa, we can’t leave you—” Deacon began to argue but Ralph only shushed him.

“I’m not saying you will. I’m not saying it’s going to happen. But I am saying that it is a possibility…” He paused for a moment. And Chase could hear the worry in his grandfather’s breathing for a split second. Ralph released Chase and looked both boys in the eyes. “And if that possibility happens, then if I tell you too, you will. Do you understand me?”

Moments and heart beats passed before Deacon nodded hesitantly.

Chase wanted to scream. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real. His grandpa couldn’t be asking Chase to abandon him. He had to be dreaming. He had to be having an awful, horrible nightmare. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real—

But Chase still nodded. He still nodded despite the voice in his head screaming and kicking its feet. He still said yes despite the sobs begging him not to.

Chase still said yes.

But he wasn’t sure if he would be able to do it.

“Okay,” Ralph nodded. “You’re both going to crouch and walk. Like in those games you two play, like the zombie one. Okay?” He ran a hand over his chin and Chase didn’t want to think about the flash of fear he saw in his grandfather’s eyes. “And you’re going to do that all the way down the stairs. It’s going to be uncomfortable and it’s going to hurt. But even if it burns, that’s how you’re going down.”

The boys nodded. Chase tried to focus on Ralph’s hair instead of the panicked breathing filling the air.

“When we get to the stairs, I’m going to go down the hall, and into the kitchen. Do not follow me.” His voice had turned dark and grim. Chase opened his mouth to argue but Ralph shook his head. “When you hear a bang, like pots and pans, you’re both going to go outside as fast as you can.”

Chase couldn’t do this. “Grandpa—”

“You will not close the door. You will not open it any farther than what I have left opened. Squeeze through it if you must, but do not move that door. And once you get out, once you get passed those stairs, you run. You run all the way to Mrs. Gruenefelder’s home. You go through her back yard,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, “and you use this.”

“What…” Deacon stared at his grandfather dumbfounded. “when did you—”

“The night they took Nox and Violet. She has one to our home as well.” Ralph took a hold of Deacon’s hand and placed the key in his palm. “Said that it would be important in case anything happened.”

Chase couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Won’t she get scared if we just… suddenly open the door?”

Ralph shook his head. “She knows. She’s waiting for all of you.” He pointed to Deacon’s hand. “You use that key, and you get in the house. You will wait five minutes for me.” He held up his hand with all five of his fingers spread out. “No more, no less. And if I am not there by then, you leave.”

No. No. No. No. Chase couldn’t. He wouldn’t. “Grandpa, you can’t—”

“I am not asking you to, Chase.”

Chase had felt something in the bag shift and looked down to see Iron climbing out of the bag. He glanced up at his keyholder with determined eyes. “I’m going with you—”

“No!” Ralph hissed the words. “They are here for you, and your family. I am not letting any one of them lay a single finger on our family.”

“But, Mister Hollow—!” Silver cried.

“There are no other alternatives. This…” Ralph paused for a moment. His eyes closed and his face scrunched in pain before he opened them back up. “This is our only option. It is our best option.”

Chase wanted to argue. He wanted to tell Ralph that there was something else they could do. A better option, better choices. Something. Anything. Maybe they could climb out of the window in his mom’s room. Wait, no, there might still be Ex-Libris members outside. Okay, maybe they could, uh… do… something! Anything else but this!

But Chase opened and closed his mouth. He found that there really was no other option.

“Does anyone else want to argue?”

Chase did. He wanted to scream. He wanted to grab his grandfather and beg him not to go. He wanted to stay in his room and go back to sleep while he hoped this was all a nightmare.

No one else said anything.

Chase wanted to crumble to the floor and sob.

Ralph only nodded at the silence. “Okay.” He turned back to the door and slowly gripped onto the doorknob again. He opened it at the same speed as he had before. Once the door was opened ajar, he poked his head out and looked left and right. He didn’t close the door as he turned back to the boys and the keys.

“Are you ready?”

No.

Chase and Deacon nodded in affirmation, and Chase zipped up the pocket.

Ralph looked out the door and surveyed the hallway once more, before he turned back to the boys and gestured at the door. Ralph only moved the door a few more inches before he crouched down and walked out of the room. Chase and Deacon were quick to follow.

They moved slowly, but there was a sort of organization to it all. Ralph was in the front as he guided the boys out. Chase, who held the most defenselessness of the group was in the middle. And behind him was Deacon, who may have lacked a bit of strength, but there was no denying that he would do anything to protect his family.

Chase lived in this house his whole life. And Deacon practically spent half of his life in this same home. Not to mention Ralph was the one who bought the home all those years ago, before George or Dale were even born.

So, each of them knew the floors like the back of their hand. They knew which tiles creaked when they were stepped on, and which ones stayed silent. Which ones were loose and which ones Ralph had only just fixed.

But despite that all, Chase still held the bag tightly. He let go of the strap and went to clutch the bag itself against his chest. He knew it was unnecessary, he knew he still held them no matter what. But he felt more comfortable having them here against his chest. He didn’t actually know if it made the keys safer, but to him, they felt safer.

Chase’s heart hammered against his chest. The sound thundered through his head and his ears. And it was all he could hear, all he could focus on.

But as they came to the round of the stairs, Ralph held up a hand, and Chase froze in place.

There was something thudding downstairs. No. That wasn’t the right word. They sounded more like… stomping. Stomping on the floors and down the hall. And it was awful for Chase to hear.

Stomp.

            Stomp

                        Stomp

                                    Stomp

                                                Stomp

                                                            Stomp

Stomp.

Stomp

                                                                                                Stomp

                                                                                                            Stomp

                                                                                                                        Stomp

                                                                                                                                    Stomp

                                                                                                                                                Stomp

Chase realized what those sounds were. They were boots. He didn’t know what kind, nor did he know what type of material they were made out of. But there was no doubt that those were the sound of boots stomping on the floor. On his floor. In his home.

He heard whispering and looked at his family to see what they were saying. But it wasn’t coming from them. It was from downstairs.

In a horrifying second, Chase realized the voices weren’t coming from his family. The heartbeat in his ears began to muffle as the whispering from downstairs became clear.

“Any sign of them?” The voice was… rough, but in an almost wrinkly way. The voice was clearly aged… there was almost a shakiness to it.

Could this… have been the old man Buddy told him about…? No. It couldn’t. Buddy said he was so old that he could hardly move without running out of breath. Why would he come all the way here? Not to mention, Buddy said that the old man never did his own dirty work.

And besides, this voice sounded… well, it didn’t sound like a traditionally elder masculine voice.

“No. Not down here. Though, Carson did hear something upstairs. He’s checking it out. Might have been one of the keys. Would you like for us to join him?”

Chase held the bag tighter as he felt his body go rigid. This voice was far deeper and gruffier. It was clearly the voice of a young man.

The older person only hummed before they whispered once more. “No. We shall do one more sweep of the lower floor. Then, we will join him. You. Take Group B outside for another sweep. Group A and I shall stay down here.”

Oh God, how many of them are here?

Chase couldn’t feel his body suddenly. How long did they have until they changed their minds and decided to go upstairs? How much more could they stay in this spot? When would they be able to come home? What if they can never come home? What if this was it? What if this is when Chase would lose his family? What if something happened to his mom? What would happen to Silver? What if—

Something warm wrapped around Chase’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

Chase didn’t need to turn around to know it was Deacon.

It wasn’t much. But it was enough to bring Chase back to the world.

… God. He couldn’t keep depending on others like this.

Chase watched his grandfather lean against the railing of the stairs. He seemed to scan the bit of the view he had of downstairs. He didn’t look at the boys, but he raised his hands once more and motioned them to follow him.

Ralph was right. Going down the stairs in a weird, crouched walk was AWFUL. Chase’s thighs screamed at him as his attention was split in half. Half was to the bag as he made sure he held it tight enough that it wouldn’t fall out of his grasp. The other half was to the steps to avoid the creaking ones, while also making sure Chase didn’t fall and land face first in front of an Ex-Libris member. Every step had felt agonizing, and it felt like it had been an eternity until they reached the bottom of the stairs.

When Ralph reached the bottom, he held a hand up in a motion to stop the boys. And Chase froze in his tracks with Deacon right behind him.

Ralph turned to the boys slowly; he held a finger to his lips for a moment before he turned back forward. He moved down off the last step and onto the floor. Chase had cringed as he watched his grandfather take that last step. He had been afraid the floorboards would creak at Ralph’s weight, but they had stayed silent.

Chase watched helplessly as his grandpa quietly rounded the end of the stairs and took off down the hall in slow and quiet steps.

And then they were alone.

Alone at the staircase. Where they could be seen at any moment. Where they could be dragged into one of those trucks Chase had seen.

Chase’s arms clutched around the bag. He didn’t even know if he could hold that bag any tighter, but he did. He held it against his chest like as though he held the fate of the world in his arms.

And in a way, he did. For Chase held the fate of his world in his arms.

Only one arm let go of that bag, and it went to grip onto one of the posts on the staircase. He held it so tightly, that had there been just a bit more light, he would have seen how his knuckles resembled that of a ghost.

He felt his heart hammer against his chest. He heard it thud and crash in his ears. He felt the vibrations travel up his skull and shake him to his core. His breathing had grown ragged. And Chase desperately searched for it in the dark to regain control of it before it spiraled. And the whole time those boots, that stomping grew closer and louder. And they grew closer, and closer, and closer.

Holy shit, they were getting closer. What do they do? Were they heading upstairs? Where should he and Deacon go? Chase couldn’t lose control of his breathing. He couldn’t. He couldn’t hyperventilate, because then he would be too loud, and they’ll hear him. But they’re getting closer, and him and Deacon are practically out in the open, and he had the keys in his arms, and he didn’t know what to do, and he failed them, an—

CRASH!

Chase knew the sound of their old pots and pans clashing like the back of his hand. All at once, the boots that had just been growing closer began to stomp away from them.

Chase wanted to run for his grandfather. But the movement in his bag reminded him that there was someone else he needed to protect.

The boots grew a safe distance, and Chase went down those last few steps. He approached the front door that had been left open slightly ajar. It may be a bit of a tight squeeze for Deacon, but it was perfect for Chase.

He got to his feet, slid through the door.

And ran.

Chase knew Mrs. G’s home well, not as well as his house. But he knew how to get there. Even as the branches on the ground scratched him, as stickers stuck to his pants and shoes, as he felt the keys tussle and jump in the bag; he didn’t stop. He heard footsteps behind him, but he knew they were Deacon’s.

The sharp sticks and prickly stickers ended once they entered the front yard of Agatha’s home. Chase did his best to avoid stepping on her flowers, but he also had other things on his mind. They ran past the side of the house, making sure not to step over the small fairy houses, and they turned to the backyard.

Chase got to the door first, and he turned around to see Deacon fumble with the key in his hand.

Chase didn’t realize Deacon had also shaking until that moment.

Deacon tried to insert the key, but he kept just barely missing the keyhole. Chase didn’t rush his cousin out loud, but he knew Deacon was rushing himself.

He managed to get the key in. He twisted it and the lock made a click.

He pushed open the door and they ran in.

Chase didn’t realize how out of breath he was until he closed and locked the door. He let his breathing be free as his chest rose and fell at seemingly inhuman speeds. He allowed himself to gasp for the air he had been searching for for the past few minutes.

Agatha turned at the sound of her door, she was standing in the middle of the hallway. She had clearly been pacing around anxiously. And even through the darkness of the home, Chase watched relief pool and fill her eyes as she ran to the boys. Chase had never seen her move as fast as she did just now, and her arms wrapped around the boys tightly.

“Oh, thank goodness!” she cried in a whisper. “Thank goodness…” She pulled away, and her hands fell to their faces and shoulders as she looked over them. “Are you two hurt? Did they get near either of you? Is everyone else okay?”

Chase nodded hastily as he still tried to catch his breath. A rush of safety and the reality of their situation had come crashing onto him all at once. “Keys… bag… they’re in the bag. I—”

Agatha nodded with tears in her eyes. “Okay.” She flattened Chase’s hair down as she patted his head. “Okay. You don’t need to say anything else. Everyone is safe.”

Chase shook his head while something threatened to spill out of him. “Not everyone…”

Agatha paused for a moment as her face twisted into pain and worry. “I know. I know.” She brushed Chase’s hair with her nails. “We’ll be okay.”

“Mrs. G, why aren’t they here at your house?” Deacon asked.

“I don’t know.” Agatha shrugged as she looked at Deacon. “And I don’t quite care, as long as it gives us a safe place for the next...” she turned to the clock on her wall, “four minutes.”

Four minutes.

Four minutes for his grandfather to get here.

Four minutes until Chase might have to abandon him.

Chase didn’t have the time to process the panic that came with that thought. His hands had flew to the bag’s front pocket zipper. He freed the keys into the fresh air. And then to the main pocket of the bag. He flipped and shuffled through the main pocket and—

Shit.

Chase’s head shot up from the bag with wide eyes. “…We forgot the diary…”

“Fuck!” Deacon’s hand flew to his hair and tugged on the strands. “And we didn’t tell grandpa.”

Agatha made that disapproving motherly face that all moms had at Deacon’s language. But she didn’t say anything else about it. “Okay, boys, don’t panic. Ralph should know it’s downstairs, that’s where we left it. Chances are that’s what’s taking him so long. He’s getting the diary.”

Chase… really wanted to believe that. He truly did hope that was true. But as he glanced back at the clock, that anxiety returned in full force. It prickled itself in his chest and it made him lose that grasp of control he had over his breathing. What if his grandpa didn’t come back? What if Ex-Libris had already gotten him? Oh God, Chase didn’t know if he could handle losing his grandfather. No, that wasn’t true. He couldn’t. He couldn’t lose his grandpa. Not yet. Not now. Oh God, he can’t do thi—

“Chase, Chase. Honey.” Agatha’s voice brought him back to reality. Her eyes glistened in the moonlight with scrunched eyebrows and worried eyes. “Why don’t you go get Prunella? I can take the keys.”

Chase gripped the strap tighter as he took a step back. He shook his head aggressively. “No, I—!”

“Charlie.” Chase’s words froze on his lips. He had never heard Mrs. G speak like that before. “You are not okay right now. They will be safe with me. Ex-Libris has no reason to question why we are here. And considering how they aren’t in my home, they have no reason to suspect me.” Her eyes and voice softened. “Please.”

A part of Chase screamed no. He didn’t want to leave the keys behind with anyone. What if something happened and he wasn’t there to protect them?

But… he trusted Mrs. G. And above all, beyond that internal screaming, beyond wanting to protect the keys, beyond everything else...

A small, ugly, selfish part of him wanted a break. For someone else to worry about the keys, or the diary. He was so… so…

Tired.

And maybe a part of that selfishness came into the world. Because in the end, Chase didn’t say anything. He only nodded and silently gave his neighbor the bag. No argument. No protest. Nothing.

Just pure compliance.

He felt like an awful person.

He turned down the hall and up the stairs without saying a single word. And he began to mentally count each and every second that passed in his head. One, two, three, four, five, six—

He didn’t know that he made it upstairs until he came across a door with all sorts of survival stickers and decorations on the door. Chase reached out for the handle, but he didn’t hold and twist it. His hand hovered over the knob; his fingers were shaking.

He felt like he was about to do something awful. Like there was no turning back after this. And in a way, that’s exactly what it was. Maybe Chase could come to terms with that. Maybe he could accept his life changing forever. He couold accept that. He was okay with that. This was all his decision.

But not Prunella.

Not her.

Not the kid.

She wasn’t even supposed to be involved in this. Neither was Mrs. G. Both of them weren’t supposed to be involved.

Chase was about to destroy Prunella’s innocence and childhood.

He could never forgive himself.

The metal against his hand was cold to the touch. And the door creaked as he opened it.

The sight of Prunella’s room made something sickening stir in his stomach. It threatened to travel up his throat and out of his mouth. There wasn’t anything wrong with her room, but that was exactly it.

Prunella’s walls were painted a light green. There were posters over her walls of survival shows Chase caught her watching all the time, along with Lady Lovelorn posters. Somewhere stuck onto her wall with sticks of tape, while others were stuck on with pins. The ones with tape were more crooked or just slightly off. But the ones with pins were as straight as an arrow. There was a bookshelf in the corner of her room with a diverse array of collections. She had a toybox that was a bit overstuffed, the lid couldn’t even close properly. Some toys were left behind on her floor, and she held a Lady Lovalorn plush in her arms as she slept.

It was a child’s room; there was no denying that.

And Chase mourned for the little girl who was about to have her whole world change.

He carefully avoided the toys and survival kits on the floor as he made his way to her bed. Her hair was in pigtails. Mrs. G mentioned once that Prunella always put her hair in pigtails before bed, but he had never seen her hair like that before until now. Her face was relaxed, and her breathing was even.

Chase never felt so horrible before in his life.

He reached down and began to softly shake Prunella. “Prun. Prunella. Come on, you have to get up.”

She shifted in the bed and made a groan that was one of those, ‘leave me alone and let me sleep’ type of groans. He gently shook her shoulder once more and called her name. This time, Prunella gently stirred awake with a hum.

“Hunnnh? Chase?” Her voice was filled with drossiness, and it slurred just a little. She was clearly still half asleep. “Out of room. You have… cooties…” Her words began to slow as she closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

Chase couldn’t as he smiled softly as he shook her again. “Sorry, kid. But we have to go.”

“Hum? Go where?”

“I uh… somewhere safe, don’t worry. Do you have a backpack? We need to get some things…”

Prunella hummed and rubbed her eyes as she swung her legs over the side of her bed. “Mmmcloset. I have a survivalist bag in the closet. Storms and stuff.”

He chuckled lightly. “Why am I not surprised?”

Chase pushed himself from her bed and walked over to her closet. He opened the door to a small walk-in closet (why does this eight-year-old have a whole dang walk-in closet?!). It was… strangely organized. Prunella never striked Chase as a messy or unorganized kid, but he also wasn’t expecting her to be THIS organized. Then again, this was Prunella, so should he really be all that surprised?

Her clothes were all hanging, the back of her door had one of those foldable shoe racks, and the top metal shelves had boxes. He walked in and began to move the clothes and some of the boxes in search of a small backpack.

“Chase?”

Chase had still been shuffling through the clothes and boxes. “Yeah?” He said as he found the small backpack with a quiet aha sound and began to pick up the backpack.

“Did Ex-Libris find us?”

Oh.

That’s.

Chase froze as he stood to pick up the bag. He knew Prunella was a smart kid, and if he was being honest, he knew Prunella would put together why they were leaving so suddenly in the middle of the night.

But a small part of him couldn’t help but to hope that she remained blissfully ignorant.

“Is that why we’re leaving?” she asked when no response came from Chase.

He didn’t want to face her. He didn’t want to answer her. He didn’t want to look at her. He didn’t want to see the face she was making. He didn’t. He couldn’t.

But he did. He stood slowly, and he shifted on his feet as he turned to face Prunella. Her pigtails rested over her shoulders, and she stared at him with those big blue eyes. Her eyebrows were scrunched upward, and her lips were pushed together. Her skin wrinkled at the force and tugs, and she looked like a mini adult.

She shouldn’t though.

Because she wasn’t.

She was eight.

No eight-year-old should have to worry about something like this.

But she did.

He gripped the straps of her backpack tightly; he didn’t want her to see that he was shaking. How does he respond to that? What does he tell her? How much does he tell her? Should he withhold the truth? Should he tell her the whole truth? Should he lie?

…

No.

No. He wasn’t going to lie to her.

Chase wanted to protect Prunella. The same way he wanted to protect Simon and Ross. But there was a stark difference between Prunella and his friends.

Simon, Ross, and Danielle were not involved in any of this.

Prunella was.

For his friends, the less they knew, the better. The less knowledgeable they were about the truth, the safer they were.

But for Prunella, the more she knew, the safer she was.

He had to be honest with her.

She had to know the risk she was in.

Even if it killed a part of Chase.

And besides, Prunella’s a smart kid. She would be able to tell if he was lying.

“I…” Chase sighed as he walked over to Prunella. “I’m not going to lie to you, Prun. Not anymore.” He stood at the side of her bed and took a seat. “Yes, they’re here. But they’re not in your house, you’re safe.” He added the last half quickly.

“… Only for now.”

Chase wanted to cry. Chase nodded slowly. “Yes… for now. That’s why we’re all leaving.” Chase looked away from her for a moment. He had to stay together. He couldn’t lose himself. He looked back at Prunella. “I’m going to carry you, okay? And when we get outside, you’re going to keep your eyes closed, alright?” He paused for a moment. Should he… say this next part? No, that wasn’t the right question. Did he want to say this next part? No. No, he didn’t.

But he didn’t have choice.

“You know how to climb trees, right?”

Prunella nodded, there was still a sense of sleep in her eyes and movements.

“Good…” Chase looked down for a moment. He fidgeted with his hands and picked on his thumbnail. He looked at the clock on Prunella’s nightstand. There were two minutes left. But he couldn’t focus on that right now. “Prunella, I don’t want to scare you, but you need to know what to do.” Chase swallowed a lump in his throat; his fingers wrapped around his pajama pants. She couldn’t see him shaking. He leaned in closer to her as he felt his face twist. “If anything happens, and I, your mom, or anyone else can’t get you to the car… I need you to run, okay? No matter what you hear, no matter what you see, no matter how badly you want to turn around. No matter who you hear calling your name—No matter what, you run. You run and run. And you climb the highest tree, and you stay there. Stay there until there’s light, and it’s safe. Stay there until you know there’s no one looking for you. And then you… uhm…” Chase sniffled. He didn’t notice how his eyes had started watering. He blinked rapidly. Oh God, this was happening. This was actually happening. People were in his home as he sat here on Prunella’s bed, telling her to how to escape being kidnapped. His grandpa was still in that same house, with maybe only a minute and a half left. His life was in danger, Deacon was in danger, Ralph, Agatha, the keys, Prunella.

All at once, everything hit him. Nothing would be the same.

His house still stood, but his home was gone.

Everything was changing. Everything he loved had been ripped out of his grasp while he was left vulnerable. And Chase—

Couldn’t do anything about it.

He couldn’t fight back. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t sob. He couldn’t grieve. He couldn’t mourn the life he had just a month ago. He couldn’t mourn the happiness he had held just four hours ago. He couldn’t fight the stalker. He couldn’t change Mathilda’s fate. He couldn’t wish for his mother’s health. He couldn’t grab the diary.

He couldn’t protect Buddy.

Chase couldn’t do anything but watch as half of his world was ripped away from him.

And it was so fucking unfair. So cruel, and ugly, and awful. He couldn’t do one thing without risking something or someone else. He had choices stolen from him, he had been lied to, held against a wall.

And it was awful. And it was unfair. And why? Why was this happening? Why was this happening to him?

“You…” Chase sniffled again. “You… uh…”

A small hand landed on his white clutched knuckles, and he turned to Prunella who held worried eyes. “I go to town,” she said, “and I tell the police that mom is gone… and they’ll probably go to your house to ask questions, and see someone broke in.”

Chase sniffled once more as he nodded.

He felt like he failed her.

No, he did fail her. He failed her. He failed to protect her. He failed in keeping her safe. She shouldn’t have to shoulder something like this. She shouldn’t have to shoulder the weight and worry of an adult. She was a child. She was eight for Christs’ sake! She was a kid! She shouldn’t be having to be told this. She shouldn’t be having to comfort Chase like an adult would. She should be a kid. She should be sleeping and then playing outside tomorrow and go school shopping. She should be a CHILD.

Was he any better than Marquis? Chase was forcing Prunella into something she didn’t want. Forcing her to carry a burden she shouldn’t have to carry, that she might not even want to carry. Like Mathilda, Collette, Jehanne, Margo, and every one of those girls. Was he any better than that old man? Did this make him exactly the same?

No.

It didn’t.

These were two different situations. That was a fact. He wasn’t the same as some paranoid, old, dead man.

Even if Chase didn’t believe it just yet, it was what he told himself.

So, he nodded at the girl. “Yeah.” He lifted his face and tried to smile for her. He reached out and patted her head. “You’re a smart kid.”

His gaze glided over to the clock.

It had been five minutes.

It was time.

And Ralph wasn’t here.

Chase swallowed the panic and sob that tried to pry its way through his throat and looked back at Prunella. He slinged her backpack around his arms as he stood. “We need to go, okay?” He held out his arms as Prunella threw off her blanket. “Ready? One, two, three—!”

Chase lifted her up into the air. Prunella quickly wrapped her legs around Chase, and he wrapped one arm around her back, and the other over her head.

Her hair was soft. Her head was small. She was still a kid…

He wanted to cry.

She was much lighter than he expected her to be. Then again, Deacon was able to carry her when that Cinderella book was falling apart. But still. Good thing he kept up with his workouts… the past three weeks didn’t count.

He chuckled at his own joke. Not because it was funny. But because it helped him feel just a tiny bit sane.

He patted the back of her head and took a deep breath. It was now or never.

He rushed to her bedroom door and out of the room. He rushed down the hall, past the pots and decorations and family pictures. He rounded the top of the stairs and rushed down the stairs. He would have taken two steps at a time, but he didn’t want to risk tripping and hurting Prunella. He reached the middle of the stairs as Deacon and Agatha, and some of the keys voices became clear and—

Creaaaaaaak!

Chase stopped mid-step, foot still in the air.

Oh God. Oh no. Did they follow them? They didn’t look back. They didn’t check to see if they were being followed. Oh God. Oh no. No. No. No. No. No.

“Ch—” Chase shushed Prunella quietly as he pushed her head into his shoulder. His knees felt weak as he pulled his foot from the air and back to the previous step.

Chase turned his head back and saw the top of the stairs. The second floor. He had to run. He could run back to her room and lock the door. And maybe go through a window. Shit, was Prunella’s window next to that little wooden gazebo? Or was it the one that didn’t have anything? They were both light enough to stand on the gazebo. And he could probably jump down from the window and catch her. But that was only if there was no one else waiting for them outside. Oh God, what does he do? Where does he go? No, the room. The room. He had to go to the room. He had to go ba—

“Grandpa!”

Chase knew Deacon’s voice like the back of his hand, and a wave of relief washed over Chase along with a glimpse of happiness. He couldn’t fight back his smile as he rushed down the rest of the stairs. He turned the corner to see Ralph hugging Deacon; Iron was on his grandfather’s shoulder with a smile as well.

“Grandpa!” Chase cried as he rushed over to Ralph. Ralph placed a hand on his shoulder. There was a look of pride in his eyes. And for whatever reason, it reminded Chase of the diary.

The diary they had forgotten.

Chase looked down ashamed. “We forgot the diary.”

“No, we didn’t.” Chase could hear the smile in his grandfather’s voice, and Chase looked back up at him to see the diary in Ralph’s hands.

“You got it!” Chase’s smile grew back once more. “How did you—?”

“Doesn’t matter right now. I’ll tell you later.” He gave Chase a reassuring pat on the shoulder before he walked over to Agatha. He handed it to her, and she placed it in the bag.

“What matters,” he turned to face everyone, “is that everyone is here.” His smile fell as his face shifted into something serious. “I need everyone to listen to what I’m about to say.” Chase instinctively took a step toward his grandfather. Prunella picked up her head and faced Ralph as well. “We’re going to go outside—”

“What?!” Serpentine cried.

“Won’t they see us?!” Chase argued.

Ralph only shook his head. “No. Not as long as we keep the lights off and stay quiet. You all stay behind me. We’re going to Agatha’s car. I’m going to unlock the doors manually, one by one. And when you all get in, do not close them properly, do not slam them. Only enough for the door to get locked to the rest of the car. Understand?”

Everyone nodded. Chase adjusted his grip on Prunella.

“Okay.” Ralph turned to Agatha. “Mrs. Gruenefelder, did you get everything?”

Agatha nodded. “Yes, everything we need, and everything you asked for.”

Ralph nodded and turned back to the kids. “Then let’s go.”

Chapter Text

Ralph had opened the back door with the same speed as he did with Myra’s bedroom door. The outside heat hit Chase like someone had turned on a fan. Ralph, Deacon, and Agatha returned to that crouch walking, and while Chase leaned over a bit, he couldn’t crouch all the way with Prunella in his arms. But he didn’t mind.

Chase brought his hand to the back of Prunella’s head and tucked her head down. “Eyes closed…” He whispered to her.

They hugged the walls as they walked, they avoided the bushes and the twigs on the ground. While Chase couldn’t see in the dark, he knew they were heading to the side of Agatha’s house that had a luscious garden, filled with handmade fairy houses, and gazebos. It was cluttered but in an organized way.

And it was perfect for keeping them hidden from view.

Ralph would stop and hold out his hand, he would scan the area before he gestured for them to follow him. It was like a pattern, one that drove Chase crazy because it felt like it happened every few seconds. But if it meant staying safe, then he didn’t quite mind.

When the driveway came into view, Chase had to use every bit of his self-control to stop himself from making a run for the car. He couldn’t risk Prunella like that. He couldn’t risk his family like that.

They leaned against the wood of the gazebo as Ralph scanned the space from here to the car. Chase kept his hand on Prunella’s head, which was still tucked into his shoulder. His gaze wavered as his grandfather checked the area, and his eyes landed on the tan house across the street. Despite the dim moonlight, Chase could vaguely make out the shadow of a figure through the curtains.

His home. His house.

This was so unfair. It was so… wrong. Who were these people to come and break into his home? All of this just to kidnap a tiny family? Chase wasn’t sure anymore if Ex-Libris created the keys. But even if they did—what gave them the right to treat them so horribly? Did they truly believe it justified breaking and entering? Kidnapping? Extortion? Murder?

Chase didn’t think so. They had no right, no reason to do this. Keys, books, and wishes be damned. This was his home, his house! They were walking down his halls. Going through their cabinets, shelves, THEIR belongings. The thought—no, the FACT that they were going through his room, pulling out his drawers, tearing down his posters, destroying everything and anything he cared about as though he wasn’t a person with a family, feelings, hobbies, goals, dreams, a life; being treated as though he wasn’t a human being.

It made him feel dirty, disgusting, he felt lower than the dirt he stood over.

He didn’t let his anger leak through his grip on Prunella. He kept the resentment, the infuriation, the violence; he kept it all inside.

Ralph gestured his hand for them all to follow him. Chase forced his unyielding rage down into a bottle and sealed it.

He couldn’t let his anger control him. He couldn’t let it put his family at risk.

Much to Chase’s relief, Agatha’s car quickly came into view. It looked like she had reversed into her driveway during the last time she used it. Which had left the front of the car facing the main road.

Chase watched as Agatha gently pulled out a set of keys from the pocket of her nightgown. She cupped it in her hands and Ralph picked them up slowly. He held the bottom of the keys in order to avoid making any noise.

“Doors. Now.” Ralph ordered in a hushed voice. Chase wasted no time in obeying. He quietly rushed over to one of the backseat doors. He crouched on his knees and waited for his grandfather.

Ralph unlocked the driver’s door in a swift motion. He opened the door and went inside. He pulled the door slowly until Chase heard a quiet click. It wasn’t closed properly, but it wouldn’t move now. He leaned over to the passenger door and unlocked it.

Agatha moved into the car quickly. She had set the bag onto the floor of the car. Both she and Ralph leaned over to the back seat and unlocked the back doors.

Chase pulled open the door swiftly. He put all of his weight onto his knees as he stood back up. He slid Prunella out of his arms and on to the middle back seat. He slid her backpack off of his shoulders and placed it onto the floor of the car. Chase then took his own seat and closed the door the same way he saw Ralph do earlier.

Chase leaned over and gathered Prunella’s seatbelt as Deacon slowly closed his door. Once the kid’s seat belt clicked into lock, he reached for his own belt.

“Are seat belts on?” Ralph asked. His face was hidden from Chase’s gaze from the darkness.

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay, good.” Ralph twisted in his seat and faced the kids. His eyes were grave and dark and his face looked as though it was made of stone. He looked like the young man in those old photos in their hallway. The young man who had just returned from the Vietnam War. “I’m going to start the car, and it’s going to be loud, and get their attention. The moment the car starts, I’m putting it into drive, and hitting the gas. Hang on to something.” He turned back forward and gripped the wheel. “Whatever you’re holding on to, no matter what happens, don’t let go.”

Chase watched Ralph hold on to the car keys for a moment. He pushed the key in, and the car began to beep, but it wasn’t loud enough to raise any concern. Chase could hear his grandfather breathing for a moment.

He twisted the key, and the car turned on with a loud roar.

The headlights instantly turned on, and Chase felt something in his chest drop. He dug his nails into the edge of the seat as the car made noises that were way too loud for his comfort.

In a split second, Chase watched as a shadow grew closer to the curtains and threw them open. He tried to see their face, but he couldn’t make it out through the darkness.

Despite Ralph’s words from earlier, the car didn’t move. Chase saw Agatha turn her head to him with wide worried eyes. It seemed as though his grandfather was staring down the intruder in their home.

Chase barely heard the gear shift move before Ralph whirled the wheel to the right and the car took off.

Chase was thrown back in his seat, he gripped onto the bulky door handle, so his body didn’t slam into Prunella’s.

There’s muffled yelling, and Chase turned his head around to the back window to the sight of a group of people running out of his home and into the trucks.

“Uh! Not to make you more stressed out, but I’ve seen enough action movies to know that we’re about to enter a car chase scene!” Chase yelled as he twisted to face the front seat again.

Ralph seemed to have already known that as he ignored Chase. “Close the doors!”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice!” Deacon yelled as an array of doors opening and closing filled the air.

Chase twisted to the back window once more as headlights blinded him for a moment. He rapidly hit his seat as the sight. “Must go faster! Must go faster!” He vaguely saw a tuff of red hair join him on gazing out the back window.

“Where are we going?!” Deacon asked.

Ralph didn’t look at Deacon. “Your house.”

“WHAT?!” The voices were a chorus; everyone’s voices had joined in as one.

“Grandpa, you can’t!” Deacon yelled, his eyes bulged out of his head. “What if they follow us?!”

“What about mom?! She can’t get out of bed!”

“You can’t put our parents in danger like that!”

“We’re going to lose them first!” Ralph made a sharp left. Chase grabbed Prunella’s shoulders to cushion her. “Then we’ll head that way!”

“Uh, guys?” Prunella turned away from the window. “They’re getting closer!”

“WHAT?!” Chase turned his head back around and HOLY SHIT, he didn’t think trucks could MOVE that fast! They were like fireflies making a beeline to someone. They were practically breathing down their neck!

Chase whipped his head around. “PUMP IT!”

Ralph hit the gas, and everyone was thrown back. Chase had practically been sent halfway over the seat. His arm had been extended to the side to hold back Prunella.

“Jesus!” Deacon yelled as his hands gripped the door and car seat.

“Mister Hollow! Please don’t forget there’s children back here!” Prunella yelled.

“Silver, are you all okay?!”

“We’re fine, Chase!” Silver’s voice was like the eye of the storm amidst all the chaos. “Just a bit jumbled!”

There was so much happening, and not enough time to process any of it. Thirty minutes ago, Chase was sound asleep on his bed. And now he’s in his neighbor’s car at very dangerous speeds while a cult chased after him and his family!

How did everything change so quickly? How did it all go wrong so quickly? He wanted to cry. He wanted a moment to breathe. Why couldn’t he just have a moment to breathe?! Why couldn’t things just say CALM AND NORMAL FOR FIVE SECONDS?!

“Okay! Okay!” Deacon held his hands out as he caught his breath. “So, other than taking refuge at my house and preparing for the SHIT STORM that’s going to happen when we get there; what is the plan?!”

“I don’t know!” The words spilled out of Ralph and Chase practically screamed.

“YOU DON’T KNOW?!” Scratch that, Chase did scream. “Gramps, a CULT just broke into our house and is hunting us down like as though we just stole the Mona Lisa! What do you MEAN you DON’T KNOW?!”

“I was a little preoccupied by trying to think of how to get my family out of the house!” Ralph made another sharp turn. Chase quickly wrapped his arm around Prunella to hold her.

Prunella held on to Chase’s arm. When the force of the turn was gone, she peeked up from Chase’s arm and the window. Her eyebrows were scrunched with worry as she turned to face the adults. “Why weren’t they at our house?”

“We don’t know, honey.” Agatha turned to her daughter.

“How did they even get in?!” Chase yelled. “I thought we locked all of the doors!”

“Forget that!” Deacon turned to his grandfather. “How did they figure out where we LIVE?!”

Chase… didn’t think about that…

He was so concerned with getting the keys to safety, making sure Prunella was okay—he didn’t stop to think…

How did they find them?

The silence was filled when Prunella turned away from the window. “I think we lost them!”

Chase turned to the back window, and sure enough, the headlights from moments ago were now gone. He had been so preoccupied with the yelling and arguing that he didn’t stop and pay attention to the people following them.

“Okay… okay…” Chase slowly turned in his seat as he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. “okay…”

Chase opened his eyes and caught sight of Ralph as he adjusted his grip on the wheel before speaking. “… are you boys sure you weren’t followed?”

“What?” Chase didn’t mean for his voice to sound so blunt but it’s how the word tumbled out of his mouth.

“Are you two sure you weren’t followed?” Ralph’s voice was a little louder now.

“Wha—YES! Grandpa, we may have been half asleep, but I think we would have known if we were being followed!” Chase didn’t want to yell; he didn’t want to speak to his grandpa like this. But he couldn’t help it. Something about it felt so… accusatory. Even though it wasn’t. It was just a question. But something about it made Chase feel like he had to defend himself.

“You didn’t see any trucks?” Ralph went on. His voice grew in volume with every question. “Any people who kept watching you in the library? The hotel? None of that?”

“No! We didn’t! Prun, get away from the window, please—”

“Nobody looked at you in any way?” Agatha chimed in now. Her body turned to face the kids in the backseat with wide worried eyes. “Did anyone look weird at the Taco Bell? Or the convenience store? What about the person that chased you two out of the library?!”

“NO!” Chase screamed. “Nobody! There was nobody weird!”

Ralph met Chase’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. “We just want to make sure—!”

“So did we!” Deacon leaned forward with wide eyes and his voice raised with every word. “Grandpa, we stayed in that tree for almost an hour! We didn’t go back to that hotel for—I don’t even REMEMBER how long!! We watched every corner like a hawk! You did not SEE the way Chase kept obsessively looking at the mirrors while driving! WE WERE NOT FOLLOWED!”

The car fell into silence. The only noise that was heard was the sound of the rocks crunching underneath the tires. The wind hitting against the car as a vague rumbling noise filled Chase’s ears.

“… Then how did they find us…?” That was Mrs. G’s voice. But as Chase looked at her, he realized she wasn’t asking the question to anyone.

And it was true.

How did they find them?

“THEY’RE BACK!” Prunella screamed and Chase whipped his head around to see a group of headlights shining in the distance as they grew closer and closer.

“WHAT?!” Chase turned back to his grandpa in time to see Ralph check every mirror. “Shit!”

Chase tried to control his breathing, he couldn’t freak out. He couldn’t panic. Not in front of Prunella, but oh God, did he want to.

Instead, he turned back to his grandpa. “Isn’t this the side road?!”

“Yes!”

“How did they find us?!” Deacon yelled.

Chase saw Goldie’s head peek out through the bag. “Perhaps the torches in the car?! Is there a way to switch them off?”

“No, if we turn them off, then we’re really in the dark! Hold on!” Ralph made another sharp right.

“Mister Hollow,” Ruby somehow pulled themselves out of the pocket and tried to balance on the top of the bag. “Is there another road to take?!”

Fuck, was there? Chase was pretty sure there was! There was the main road, which they had long since drove off of. There was the side road, but that was the road they were on right now! And then there was…

“The dirt road…” Chase said softly.

“What?” Jady looked over Goldie’s arm.

“The dirt road in the forest!” Chase said louder. “We can try that one!”

“The forest?!” Jade exclaimed.

“No!” Chase turned to Deacon. “Chase, that place is crawling with animals, there’s a bunch of trees, and the rocks are HUGE! One wrong turn, one late movement and we’ll be on the morning news for an accident!

“WELL, DO YOU HAVE ANY OTHER IDEAS, DEACON?!” Chase didn’t like screaming at Deacon. He didn’t like screaming at anyone. But, God, FUCK, there was no time for this!

Deacon looked like he wanted to argue, and god did he try. Chase watched his cousin’s mouth open and close. But his face scrunched when he realized he couldn’t think of one. He ran a hand through his hair as he hit the seat. “Shit!”

“Forest it is then!” Ralph yelled. “Everyone hold on!”

Chase saw Ralph begin to turn the wheel. “Gramps, this isn’t the ENTRANCE TO THE ROAD—!”

Chase reached over to Prunella and held her in place as the car made a sharp left turn. When the force subsided, he had barely begun to look back up when a loud crash filled his ears. Chase turned to the back window to see that one of the trucks had crashed into a tree.

“WOAH!” Prunella’s eyes were wide as she stared at the scene before her.

Chase looked at the crash and then looked back at Prunella. He turned her away from the window and pushed her back onto her seat. “Prunella, stop looking!” But even despite his own words, Chase’s gaze wandered back over to the truck. There was thick black smoke coming out of the trunk and into the night sky. The tires looked twisted as though they were about to pop out of their sockets. And the front half of the vehicle was totaled. Chase hoped it didn’t catch fire… they were in a forest now… a fire wouldn’t be a good thing…

… He couldn’t help but to wonder if the person in the truck was okay.

“Maybe…” Chase swallowed a lump in his throat as the sight was etched into his brain. “maybe that will throw them off… the smoke and… getting the person out of the car…”

“How did they find us again?!” Chase wasn’t sure if Deacon purposely ignored him or not.

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Was all Ralph said as he pushed onto the gas more. The car swerved a bit as he narrowly missed a tree. Chase threw himself over Prunella for a split second to shield her. “We need to lose them.”

Chase slowly lifted his head once more. He gazed out the back window and into the dark world. The crashed truck was now out of sight, and he couldn’t see much in the dark. But despite the darkness of the forest, the night sky beamed a deep blue color. It outlined the figure of the trees, which swayed side to side. Birds flew out of what seemed like every other tree…

… holy shit.

Chase whipped his head to the front as he held Prunella against his chest. “They have their lights off! They’re still following us!”

“That can’t be possible!” Ralph looked at the rear-view mirror and his eyes widened at the swaying trees. “How do they keep finding us?! How have they not crashed?!”

“Maybe…” Chase looked down at Prunella, who gripped onto his pajama shirt tightly. “maybe they have a tracker?”

“A tracker?” Chase rubbed her back and Prunella nodded.

“They can only follow us if they can see us…” Prunella’s voice was small. It was a stark contrast to her regular voice and that broke Chase. “They might not be able to see the car with their eyes… but maybe they can see it with something else…”

“… oh my god—”

“No!” Ralph yelled. “That’s—that’s insane! When would they—HOW would they—”

“I don’t know, Ralph!” Chase looked up at Agatha with wide eyes. Fear shined in her eyes as the moonlight hit her. “But it… it makes sense! They only appeared at the farmhouse, but not my home. Isn’t that suspicious?! Why only your home? Why would they only break into your home and not ours? Unless they only knew it was one of you? Unless—”

“They put a tracker on one of us three…” Deacon’s words were quiet as the realization clicked in their heads. “That’s why they keep finding us…”

Chase wanted to throw up. He pulled Prunella closer to his chest, he pushed her head onto his shoulder as he desperately hid his fearful eyes and formed tears from her.

“But, how?” Fuck, his voice needed to not crack right now. “How would they have done that…?”

Ralph hesitantly gazed at Chase in the mirror. “Chase, Simon and Ross—”

“THEY WOULDN’T!” Chase screamed as his head whipped from the seats to his grandfather’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “They wouldn’t do that to me, Grandpa! They wouldn’t hurt me like that! They wouldn’t betray me like that! They would never do that to me!” Chase remembered their warmth. The way Ross held his hand and hug from Simon. He remembered the love that he had felt from them just hours ago. “I would rather die than to ever doubt them!”

His breathing had turned ragged and rough. His eyes were wild as he glared at his grandfather. Simon and Ross would never. Chase would never forgive them if they did… and he knew they wouldn’t, he knew they didn’t.

Ralph didn’t say anything for a moment. He stared back at Chase with those desperate eyes before he sighed loudly. “Okay! Okay! Let’s say it wasn’t them—”

“It wasn’t!”

“Then who else, Charles?!”

Chase scrambled his brain. What else, who else? Where else could they have—

“… the person who chased us at the library…” Chase whispered the words, but they were still heard by his family. “They would have only chased us because we took something important… or we went somewhere we shouldn’t have…”

Chase saw the gears turn in Ralph’s head. “Boys! This is important! Did you two take anything from the library?!”

“Oh, you mean other than the three-hundred-year-old diary that we stole? No, not really!”

“CHARLES, THIS IS NOT THE TIME!”

“We didn’t take anything else, grandpa!” Deacon yelled back. “We would have noticed if those files or the diary had a tracker on them! And they just felt like… like regular paper! Grandpa, Mrs. G, there were no trackers on them!”

Agatha turned to the boys. “Anything else then?” The words tumbled out in a speed Chase had never heard her speak in before. “Did you take anything from anyone? Did you pick anything up on the floor of the library, or the street? Anything at all?”

“No!” Chase shook his head. “No! We didn—”

            She reached into her skirt pocket and pulled out two cards with an illustration of a pumpkin on them, along with leaves colored orange and red falling from a tree branch.

“… fuck.” The words tumbled out of Chase in quiet whispers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“LANGUAGE!” Ralph scolded his grandson, but Chase paid him no attention.

Chase gently let go of Prunella and unbuckled his seatbelt. An alarm began to go off as it sensed weight without a seatbelt. Chase leaned over to the front seat, “I need the bag! NOW, PLEASE!”

Agatha’s eyes were wide at his words, but she quickly picked up the bag and carefully handed them to him. He heard Silver say something, but he couldn’t make out her words. He ripped open the main pocket of the bag, he didn’t care if it tore, he didn’t have time to worry about that. He pushed over the papers, journals, diary, flashlights, all that stupid useless stuff. He pushed through it all and searched for a tiny little square card—

Something poked at his fingertip, and Chase pulled it out.

He looked at the library card, with the contact information.

But he wasn’t focused on that.

He was focused on the pumpkin sticker on the corner.

Chase squished the card between his fingers. It was firm, but it felt soft at the same time, like it was squishy.

Like there was something in it.

“Oh, fuck no.” Chase tried to stay quiet but he felt so out of breath suddenly. He fumbled with the card in his hands as he peeled the sticker off. “Please no.” He pushed his fingertips on the card with more pressure than he ever dared to place on silly stupid sticker. And while it was still soft, the center of it felt solid, a little firm.

            “Thank you again for walking me to my car. It means a lot to me.”

Please, no.

“I need…” Chase’s mouth felt dry, and his heart hammered against his chest. He felt lightheaded. “I need the scissors.”

“What?”

“The—the SCISSORS, Deacon! I put the scissors in the bag! I NEED THEM!”

He knew he could just reach over to the bag himself, it was right in front of him. But he couldn’t think anymore suddenly. His eyes remained glued onto this little card. He vaguely heard Deacon fumble over his lap as he shifted through the bag before handing the pair of scissors over to Chase.

“Thank you…”

            “Oh! I almost forgot!”

Please, tell him it isn’t true. Tell him he’s going crazy. Tell him he’s being paranoid.

Even as Chase held the scissors up to the tip of the pumpkin sticker, he begged the world to tell him he was wrong.

            “They’re cards for the library, in case you want a membership or a card.”

He cut through the tip of the sticker and set the scissors aside. He pushed the sticker between the pads of his fingers.

Something square stared back at him with a faint red blinking dot.

            “We’re supposed to give them out to new patrons.”

Chase’s hands shook as he tilted the sticked onto his palm. And he wanted to cry when something small fell out of the sticker and onto his hand.

There, staring right back at him, was a small black square with a small blinking red dot.

He was almost certain it was a tracker.

            “Thanks, Ana.”

The words echoed in his head. He remembered her smile and her kindness. It seemed so genuine. She seemed so genuine. Chase pictured Ana, her friendly eyes and kind smile and he felt like he had been stabbed in the back. He couldn’t control his hands as they shook and caused the tracker to jump and shake in his hands.

“Chase?! What’s wrong?!”

Chase swallowed the tragedy in his throat as he turned to his cousin.

“Prunella’s right.” Chase said, he swallowed a lump in his throat. “They’re tracking us. The library cards Ana—” His voice broke at her name, “That she gave us. They’re trackers.”

Chase watched as Deacon’s eyes widened. “Oh shit. I…” Deacon fumbled with his words. “I left mine at the house, I…”

“What?!” Ralph’s voice roared through the car.

Prunella looked at Chase with wide eyes. “GET RID OF IT!”

Chase felt like he couldn’t breathe suddenly, there wasn’t enough air in the world. Black dots began to appear in his eyes as his breathing fell from his control and grew more rapid. “But I…” He swallowed as though it would get rid of the dryness in his throat. “That doesn’t make sense! Why would she do that? Why would she track us?!”

“Chase!” Deacon yelled back at his cousin. “You need to get rid of it right now!”

“I know!” Chase heard something shift from his left and he turned to see the window being rolled down. The wind made his strands of his hair whip around him. “I know, but—” he turned back to Deacon. “she wouldn’t, she couldn’t—!”

“Chase, we don’t KNOW her!”

No, NO. NO! NO! It couldn’t be true! It just couldn’t! She worried about him! She checked on him! She made small talk with him! She taught him about how they checked books in and out! She listened to what he said as though it was actually interesting!

He couldn’t be wrong about her, he COULDN’T! There was no way someone could be that kind and do something so horrible behind the scenes! He couldn’t be wrong about her! Because if he was wrong about HER, then what was stopping him from being wrong about Simon, Ross or Danielle?!

“But she was nice!” He cried as he blinked back tears. “And she was worried about me! And—and we walked her to her CAR!”

“Chase, just because someone is nice doesn’t mean that they’re a good person! You know that better than anyone!” Deacon pleaded with Chase with scrunched eyes, but Chase didn’t want to! He didn’t want it to be true! “I know you want to believe the best in people. And some of them do have a best to them! But right now, we cannot afford to give them the benefit of the doubt! We can’t afford to believe in the best of people!”

Chase held the tracker to his chest, he didn’t want to let go. Because it meant so much more to him than just letting go of a tracker.

And yet, despite that, he turned to the window. His hands clutched around the tracker so tightly that his knuckles were white.

“Chase!” Chase couldn’t look at Deacon as his cousin spoke. “Right now, we need to prioritize other people! Nox and Violet come first, and so do the keys, and Prunella! They are more important than anything else, I know you think the same! We have to save them! We have to protect them! Even if it means…!”

He didn’t finish his words, but Chase knew what he meant.

Even if it means turning our backs against humanity.

Chase tore his hand away from his chest. His hand shook as he held it out of the window, the wind whipped the sleeve of his jacket aggressively. The corners of his eyes prickled with tears as he held out a part of himself.

Chase let go of the tracker, and he watched it fly from his hands and into the woods as it took a part of himself with it.

Chapter Text

Chase wasn’t sure if he had fallen asleep. He didn’t think he did. But he also realized that he couldn’t remember the last few moments.

Maybe he just zoned out.

Chase picked up his head, but his gaze remained glued to the window. The sky was a bit dimmish now. Towards the center it still held that dark blue that reflected the shade of a void. But as the sky grew closer to the horizon, it turned into a gorgeous gradient of lighter to baby blues. As it neared the horizon there were hints of orange and pinks, they reminded Chase of his mom. Of the soft pastel-like colors she would wear before the cancer diagnosis, like the soft cream-colored hand-knit sweater she used to wear all the time. His dad had made it for her, years ago, before Chase was ever even a thought. Before they were married or even engaged. There was no special event, no birthday, nothing that warranted a gift.

George made it for Myra simply because he wanted to.

Myra used to tell Chase that was when she knew she wanted to marry George.

“We’re almost there…” Ralph’s voice was much softer now. But that was obviously attributed to the peaceful area now.

True to Chase’s theory, once the tracker was thrown out of the window, they weren’t followed anymore.

… How did everything change in just under five hours?

Chase shook his head and turned to the little girl who rested her head against his arm. Prunella’s breathing was even as she slept peacefully. Once they were sure they weren’t being followed anymore, Prunella was out like a light.

Chase didn’t have a problem with it. She deserved the rest.

… Did Chase deserve to rest, too?

“Mom is going to freak out…” Deacon’s voice was hushed as he gazed out of the window. He turned to Ralph. “What are we going to tell them? ‘Hi Mom! Hi Dad! Is it okay if we stay here for a bit because our house got broken into by a cult, which BY THE WAY, we’ve been working against a cult that’s almost three-hundred years old!”

“What your tone and words, boy!”

Deacon ignored Ralph as he turned back to look outside of the window. He muttered something incoherent under his breath.

The car fell into silence once more, the same one that had filled the car for the past hour and a half.

Chase was so tired… he was so exhausted. His body ached and it begged to rest. Yet, every time he closed his eyes he saw Ana, Simon, Ross, Danielle, and Buddy. Even when he was able to move past that yearning and hurt, and the piercing stab of betrayal, he couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how long he let his eyes remain closed, his body refused to relax and rest.

Maybe he couldn’t relax anymore.

Regardless of his thoughts and whatever conclusion he was going to come to, the silence was broken by Agatha’s hushed voice. It stood as a stark contrast to the silence that filled the air.

“… I think we should tell your parents.”

The car erupted with protests and shock. Both came from humans and the keys as well. But the shouts were soon silenced with a harsh shush from Chase. Who had to point out that Prunella was still asleep, and if anyone woke her up, he would literally throw them out of the car.

“No!” Deacon shouted before Chase shushed him. Deacon lowered his voice as he spoke once more. “Absolutely not! We are NOT telling them anything!”

“So, you suggest lying to your parents?” Agatha argued and Deacon nodded.

“YES! It’s not the first time! It’s all we’ve been doing all summer! We’ve been lying to our parents for months!”

They had never worded it like that before. Never outright said it. Chase and Deacon would simply use the phrase, ‘we can’t tell them’. While they each had different reasons for it, there were two big reasons that they shared.

1. They didn’t want to get in trouble.
2. They didn’t want their parents to get hurt.

Even now, as Chase looked at his cousin’s brown eyes, as he stared furrowed eyebrows and furious eyes. Chase knew those were still the same reasons for Deacon’s words.

“Protecting them.” Is what they always said. “Helping them”. “Keeping them out of it”. They called it every word in the book. But they never truly called it for what it was.

Lying.

Lying to their parents.

Was that really okay? No, it wasn’t. Chase knew it wasn’t but, but—

He couldn’t get his mom involved. He couldn’t put her in danger like that.

He couldn’t lose her too.

“Maybe it’s because I’m biased.” Agatha’s voice pulled Chase back to reality and he turned to her. “Or maybe it’s because I’m a mother first. But I can’t help but to see this all from the eyes of a parent…” The car fell into silence once more as everyone listened intently. “… When I found out about Prunella being involved in this, yes, I was worried. But I didn’t let my emotions show, because I could just how… determined you were, Chase, to continue collecting Narratonin. How worried Deacon looked. And how… terrified Prunella looked at me.” She turned her head and her eyes locked with the boys. “I didn’t let my emotions show because I was worried about you three. I didn’t want to cause any sort of stress for any of you.” Her gaze slowly fell from the boys and to the ground, she turned away from the boys, as though she was ashamed. “But in truth, I was terrified, upset, and worried. I had wondered if I had done something wrong for my daughter, and for both of you, to feel as though you couldn’t trust me. I was worried about the danger she could have been in; the risks you boys were taking.” Chase watched her hand clench into a fist as it landed on her chest. “Beyond my anger and frustration, I was petrified.”

No one said anything. Not when Agatha’s words came to a halt, or when the car made a turn. Not a single word was uttered. The only noise that filled the air was the rocks crunching under the tires.

“Above all…” Agatha continued. “I had… simply wished I had done more.” She slowly raised her head and looked back over to the cousins. “So, that you all would have felt safe enough to trust me with something so important to you all. I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. I just…” Her gaze fell. “I just wanted you all to know how I see all of this.

Chase… didn’t know how to react to that. But not in the same conflicted way he had been experiencing these past few days. So… no. Chase had an idea how he felt.

He felt upset. Upset that Agatha had used the word ‘trust’. How could she talk about trust when the reason they were in this whole mess was because they didn’t tell Chase were Buddy and Violet were? Yet, at the same time… he wasn’t as hurt about it as thought he would be at the use of the word. Mrs. G had apologized to him and… it seemed like it had hurt her a lot to withhold such information from him.

He knew how conflicted she must have been that day in the tower. Staring in horror as her only child and neighbors popped out of a book and onto the floor. He never forgot the face she had made, how could he? Chase had never seen her eyes so… wide. Agatha was a very charismatic and friendly person; she never failed to make small talk with strangers. Making friends was like a hidden talent of hers. Yet, that day, she stood there with her mouth agape, it had fallen open and close as she struggled with her words.

He always knew she must have been worried, confused, and scared. But he never truly realized just how much until now.

And yet, despite the fear, despite the shock, and the worry, and the anger; she had placed it all aside and prioritized the kids’ feelings.

There was so much in Chase’s head at that moment. He respected Agatha so much more than he thought he did. (And he already respected her a lot.) He thought about how strong and how selfless she was. He always knew she was, but he never truly realized just how strong she was. He wanted to cry. But he wasn’t sure if it was from his neighbor’s words, or from everything happening.

Maybe it was both.

Chase turned to Deacon, whose hands were clenched into fists and rested on his knees. “I…” Deacon began. “I understand what you mean, Mrs. G. You’re a parent, something Chase and I can’t relate to. And while I respect your decision…” Deacon looked up at Agatha. “I don’t want to tell them.”

“But Deacon—”

“No!” Deacon yelled back at Agatha. Chase shushed his cousin which cause Deacon’s voice to lower. “I don’t want them involved! Not only because there will be hell to pay, but mom and dad will—My entire future will be stripped away! Any little bit of freedom that I have will be gone!” His words came to pause for a moment. Deacon’s breathing filled the room as he caught his breath. He looked down at his knuckles. “Mom and dad are… a lot of things. And they make me feel suffocated a lot, but…” His head tilted back up with a fire in his eyes. “but they’re my parents, and I love them. I don’t want them involved. I don’t want them OR Aunt Myra to get hurt.”

Chase watched Agatha’s face twist into something sorrowful. She looked down for a moment with eyes scrunched closed before she turned to Ralph. “Mister Hollow, what do you think…?”

Chase couldn’t see his grandfather all that well from his seat. Chase could make out the back of his head more than his hands. He glanced at the rearview mirror and saw an expression on his grandfather’s face that Chase couldn’t read. But he watched his grandpa’s hands adjust on the wheel, he heard the silence fill the car as Ralph went deep into thought.

It was enough to give Chase an idea of what Ralph was feeling.

“I’m not sure.”

Chase was right.

“You’re not sure?!”

“Dorkin, if you don’t stay quiet, I’m taking one of your sweater vests and shoving it into your mouth—”

“Grandpa, how can you NOT be sure?!” Deacon ignored his cousin as he stared at their grandfather with a baffled expression.

Chase watched his grandfather’s eyes turn into that icy parental glare that sent shivers up his spine. “Watch your tone.” Ralph turned back to the road. “I’m… I’m a father, and a grandfather.” He glanced out of the window for a moment before he turned back to the road. “On one hand, I agree with Agatha. I think your parents have a right to know the danger their children have been in… are in.” He added the last half hesitantly. But it was true. “If it was my children, I would want to know.”

He didn’t say anything about being a grandfather, or his grandchildren. Because they all knew he didn’t need to. Chase remembered his reaction all too well on that same day. It was Ralph and Agatha in the tower, staring at the boys and Prunella as though they were aliens. Chase had glared at Ralph; there was this rush of fury and anger when he saw his grandfather.

Chase had made it more than clear that he wasn’t going to stop going into books. While Ralph’s voice seemed to make the ground shake and the trees sway. He yelled—no, he screamed, and Chase screamed back.

In the end, Ralph accepted that they weren’t going to stop going into the books, and Chase accepted his grandfather joining them.

They both came out of it understanding one another just a bit more.

So, no. Ralph didn’t need to mention them. For they already knew how he felt about the boys and Prunella being involved.

“But…” Ralph’s voice turned rougher, but it wavered slightly. “But at the same time… that’s my son. That’s my son, and my daughters-in-laws’. Those are my kids. And they have all been through so much. And I don’t… I can’t…

Put them in danger. I can’t do that to them.

Chase knew they were going to ask him next. He knew it was only a matter of seconds before Deacon asked him. But truthfully, he didn’t want to answer.

He didn’t quite have an answer.

He turned to Prunella and combed her hair with his nails. He wasn’t… sure what he wanted. He didn’t want them to know; he wanted to keep them safe. He was also seriously not in the mood to be yelled at right now.

But at the same time, he wanted to. A small part of him agreed with Agatha that their parents had a right to know. A small part of Chase tucked away in the corner of his heart knew that this had reached a point where it would be best to tell their parents. Yet… that wasn’t the only reason.

Because if they knew, if his mom knew, then he could tell her about Buddy. He could sob and fall into her arms about the gapping hole in his heart. Of the loss of his boyfriend’s presence. Of grieving someone who was still alive, someone you couldn’t see. And even if he could, what then? He couldn’t hold his hand, or place his head on his shoulder, Nox was hardly the size of a TV remote.

He could tell his mom everything. He had been wanting to tell her everything. He couldn’t stand lying to her. He couldn’t stand holding the truth back anymore, and yet—

And yet… he couldn’t worry her. He couldn’t make her sad. He couldn’t put more stress on her than she already had.

Chase couldn’t put his mom at risk.

He couldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t do that to her. He needed to protect her.

He couldn’t fail her.

Above all, he was just so… tired.

“I…” Chase’s head slowly fell to the ground as his voice fell to a whisper. “I don’t want to tell them… I don’t want them to know.” He picked his head up gently. “Just… make up some story about the house being broken into. Make up some reason why we didn’t go to the police. Or maybe we did, and they told us to stay somewhere else.” Chase sniffled as he cleared his throat. He ignored his wavering voice as he blinked back tears. “I don’t know, I’m tired.”

And I want my mom.

But he still raised his head. “… What do you think, Silver?” From the small corner of the bag, he saw her pick her head up and look at him. “What do you and your family think? We can take a vote. Just, don’t…” Chase vaguely recognized how detached he sounded. “don’t elaborate or anything. Just… give us a yes or a no. Do you think we should tell our parents?”

Silver’s face scrunched with worry. “Chase, I…” her mouth hanged open as she tried to think of words. Something to say to him. Something to comfort him with.

But no words came to her.

So, with closed eyes, her head fell. Her face scrunched in pained worry as she traveled her thoughts. She picked her up back up with opened eyes. “Yes.”

Chase looked over to Copper. Who sighed and closed his eyes. “No.”

Serpentine held their hands to their chest and lowered her head with shame. “… No.”

Rose looked conflicted as they shook their head. “I… I don’t know…”

Iron’s arms were crossed, but he looked up. “Yes.”

Sapphire hesitated for a moment. “No…”

Bronze nodded. “Yes.” He looked over at Goldie who also nodded.

“Yes.”

Jade played with her hands nervously as her gaze quickly flittered side to side. “I’m… I’m unsure…”

Deacon looked over to Chase. “That’s five to five. It’s a tie.”

But there was one more person they had yet to ask. One more who would decide what they would do.

Chase’s eyes landed on the red Monarch key, whose head tilted up when their eyes met Chase’s. Their crown shined in the moonlight as they stood regally on the dashboard.

“Ruby…” Chase asked. “You’re the tiebreaker.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “What do you think we should do?”

Ruby looked back at Chase; their head tilted to the floor as they got lost into deep thought. Their head lifted, and with it, came their answer.

—

They slowly pulled up to Deacon’s house, it’s plain white walls seemed dark now in the moonlight. To Chase, it always felt too… perfect. Too much like someone trying to be modern and rich. It felt suffocating, like a trap disguised as a home. It reminded Chase of a hospital, and Chase hated hospitals.

Yet, as Chase stepped out of the car and stood by the door, a hand on the edge of the car door, it felt… familiar.

He felt safe.

He never thought he would feel safe in this house.

Guess there was a first time for everything, huh.

Chase tucked his head back into the car and unbuckled Prunella’s seatbelt.

“Mrs. G.” Chase called his neighbor as she carefully helped the keys into the front pocket. She turned to Chase with a hum. “Do you want me to wake up Prunella?”

“Oh, no, dearie. I think… she should rest.” Agatha turned back to the keys. “One of us deserves to get some rest.”

Chase… didn’t think he was supposed to hear that.

He carefully reached into the car; he grabbed her backpack and threw it around his shoulder. He then crawled back into the car, a knee on the seat as he got close to Prunella and carefully lifted her into his arms. She stirred for a moment, but Chase just shushed her gently and gently rested her head on his shoulder.

There was a row of thumping, and Chase felt his body tense and froze. His breathing tightened and he turned to the front window of the car. Luckily, he saw that it was just Ralph knocking on the front door.

Chase let out a relieved sigh as his body relaxed. He lifted Prunella into his arms as he pulled out of the car and closed the door.

Ralph banged on the door harshly as he yelled. “Dale! Open up! It’s your father!”

“Why don’t you just use a megaphone to let the whole neighborhood we’re here?” Chase said as he strolled up next to his grandfather.

Ralph side-eyed his grandson. “I’m going to ignore that comment, we’ve all had a rough night after all.” He turned back to door and sighed before he raised his hand and banged on the door again. “Dale! If you don’t answer in ten seconds, I’m going to—”

Ralph’s threat was interrupted by the door flying open. Dark black hair and tan skin came into view. He squinted at the sudden light from the sun, and probably also from blurry vision as Dale didn’t have his glasses on. He was in pajamas, which wasn’t anything surprising. Chase and Deacon had sleepovers often when they were younger, so Chase was more than used to seeing Dale in the morning.

Yet, there was something about the way Dale looked at them with squinted eyes, disheveled and unkempt hair that made him feel more… more like the uncle Chase knew as a kid.

“Dad?!” Dale’s voice was hoarse. Like your classic morning voice. “What are you doing here? It’s not Friday, and it’s five in the morning.”

Over his uncle’s shoulder, Chase caught sight of Beth rushing down the stairs as she tied a robe around and over her pajamas. She almost looked like those cliché British moms in the beginning of those fantasy movies. Her hair was down and loose, Chase hadn’t seen her hair like that in years.

“Dale, who is it?” She said as she adjusted her glasses. She seemed to have caught sight of Ralph first, for her face twisted into confusion. Her gaze landed on Deacon, Chase holding Prunella, and Agatha, and her expression twisted into something Chase couldn’t read. She rushed over to the door; there was something in her eyes that Chase didn’t recognize. “What happened?”

It wasn’t until his wife had rushed to the door that Dale seemed to have noticed Agatha and Prunella. Along with the fact that everyone was in pajamas and muddy shoes. “Oh my God.” He scanned through the group. “Uhm. Come in, come on.” He motioned with his hand as everyone stepped into the home.

“What happened to you all?!” Beth asked as she looked over everyone. Chase was… surprised she wasn’t complaining about bringing mud into the house. “Are any of you hurt?” She said this as she rushed over to the boys, her hand on Deacon’s cheek and the other on Chase’s shoulder. She even looked over at Prunella before she turned to Ralph.

Ralph scratched his head. “It’s…” he sighed as he shrugged off his raincoat. “It’s a long story.”

Beth made a face, but she didn’t say anything as she sighed and pulled away from the boys. “Have you all eaten? I can make some pancakes.” Despite her words, Chase could see the subtle cringe in her face as she walked toward the kitchen. “We have some left over gluten free ingredients from Chase’s birthday cake.”

Dale looked over at Beth with wide eyes. “I can make the pancakes.” Beth gave him a look and WOW, okay, Chase hasn’t seen his aunt and uncle this… relaxed in a while. Maybe it was because it was so early in the morning…?

Whatever it was, Chase was too tired to be relieved and happy.

His exhaustion had begun to hit him just a tiny bit. Had Chase been just a bit more aware, he would have noticed the worried gaze from Dale. Chase vaguely recognized someone was in front of him before he saw the vague figure of someone in front of him. Chase’s head tilted up and met his uncle’s blue eyes.

He knew he should have said something, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. But he noticed the way Dale’s eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Charlie, why don’t you go lay Prunella down in the guest room.” Dale’s voice was… soft. Chase hadn’t heard him speak to him like this since… since the night Myra told the family she had cancer. Dale had pulled Chase aside and talked to him and…

Chase didn’t want to think about that night anymore.

“The sheets are washed, and the room is cleaned.” Dale’s voice brought Chase back to reality. Dale turned to Agatha. “If Mrs. Gruenefelder is alright with that, of course.”

Agatha nodded. “Oh, yes!” She quickly walked over to Chase, her hands were placed near the front pocket of the bag, and she leaned over to him slightly. “I’m perfectly okay with that, go lay her down.” Chase watched her discreetly pull out something golden from the bag. It took him a moment to recognize Goldie’s face and smile. Agatha subtlety placed Goldie next to his hood, where Goldie hopped into Chase’s hood unnoticed.

Agatha smiled at Chase. But he could only nod at his neighbor before he began to head upstairs.

He knew he should have said something more. But he was so tired. He just wanted to put Prunella on the bed and go eat some pancakes.

His distant thoughts were interrupted when he caught sight of the door to Deacon’s room. It wasn’t decorated, Aunt Beth refused to risk ruining the doors in the house. But he knew that door like the back of his hand.

… His mom was behind that door. Was she still sleeping? Had they woken her up? He didn’t think so, considering how he hadn’t heard her say anything. Despite his issues with Aunt Beth and Dale, he knew they were always at his mom’s side within a second.

“Is something the matter, Chase?” Goldie asked. His voice snapped Chase back to reality.

“Oh, uh, nothing it’s just… my mom’s in that room.”

He didn’t see Goldie’s face, but Chase could hear the key’s face turn into something sorrowful. “Oh…”

Chase stood there for a moment while he stared at the door. Before he pulled away and made his way to the guest room.

The room was just like the rest of the house. Tidy white classic rich people walls with those brown paneling floors. Even the bed sheets and comforters were white. Chase carefully undid the blanket with one hand (which was tricky considering he had to sort of bend his back) and placed Prunella onto the bed. He made sure to lay her head against the pillows as he pulled the blankets to cover her. He then slid her backpack off and placed it on the floor and against the bed.

Chase stood as he brought his right hand over to his hood. Goldie hopped onto his palm and Chase carefully placed him next to Prunella on the pillow.

“Watch over her, okay?”

Goldie nodded and saluted. “Aye, aye captain!”

Chase felt a smile grow onto his mouth as he nodded back to Goldie. He turned back around and out to the hallway, where he closed the door quietly. He traced his way back downstairs, but he paused for a moment in front of Deacon’s door.

He could… visit his mom…

No, he should let her rest.

The kitchen was silent. It smelled… nice. But no one said anything as the food was made, or when it was served, or while they were eating. Agatha had placed the bag on the coffee table in the living room, and he didn’t need to open the front pocket to know the keys were still in there.

It was just… silence.

One would call it the calm before the storm. But Chase didn’t feel that way. He felt like that had already passed. To him, the storm had already begun.

Dale leaned over the kitchen counter with a mug in his hand filled with steaming coffee. Chase saw the mixed expression on his face. He sighed as he knew what was about to come.

“So,” Dale began. “What happened?”

The entire gang proceeded to side eye one another.

“What does that mean?” Dale pointed at them. “I don’t like that—”

“Dale, sit down for a moment.” Ralph gestured to one of the bar stools. “You’re not going to be a fan of this idea.”

Dale chuckled nervously. “I don’t like the way you worded that.” He said as he sat down. But his face twisted into uneasiness when he noticed Ralph wasn’t laughing.

Ralph didn’t flinch as he spoke. “Can we stay here for a while? Including Mrs. Gruenefelder and Prunella.”

Dale’s eyes went wide, and he looked over to Beth, who stood by the stove and held a cup of coffee. Beth shrugged with a confused expression but the concern in her eyes was clear. They didn’t look like they were against them staying, more so…

“Can I ask why?” Dale asked with a confused voice but a nervous smile. “I’m not saying no, but…” He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “Dad, you need to see it from our perspective—”

“I am seeing it from your perspective—”

“You show up suddenly at five in the morning, covered in mud, all of you in pajamas, and none of you even have a single bag except for Mrs. Gruenefelder and Prunella.” He sounded tired, and now that Chase looked at his uncle more, Dale had a vague hint of bags under his eyes. Chase wondered if he had today off or not. “I’m not saying no, Dad. But just… what happened?” His voice turned stern. “Because something clearly happened. Did something happen to the house? The neighborhood?” Chase could vaguely see the way his uncle’s voice grew more and more high pitched. It was one of his tics when he was nervous. “Is the town okay? I—”

“Everything is fine, Dad!” Deacon’s voice cut in as he placed a plate into the sink. “Don’t worry—”

“Someone broke into the house.”

“Are you KIDDING ME, Grandpa?!” Deacon yelled as he turned to Ralph with an mortified face.

Chase felt his fork fall from his fingertips and onto the plate with a clank. “WOW, okay, so we’re just immediately ripping off the band-aid, got it.” Chase ignored the glare Deacon gave him.

Chase watched as Dale fought for his life with the bar stool. Dale had gone to stand but his foot got caught in one of the bars and he stumbled for a moment. The stool fell to the ground with a  loud clash as Dale fumbled to the kitchen counter and caught himself.

A loud gasp came from the other side of the kitchen. Chase had turned just in time to catch his aunt drop Deacon’s plate from her hands and onto the floor. The plate shattered and pieces of ceramic scattered over the kitchen floor. But Beth seemed to care less about the broken plate and more about the broken-into house.

“Oh goodness!” Agatha stood from her seat and walked over to where Beth was standing. Luckily for Mrs. G, she had on proper shoes, so the shattered ceramic didn’t post much of a threat to her.

“WHAT?!” Dale’s voice filled the air, and its volume made Chase wince.

“ARE YOU ALL OKAY?!” Beth ignored the broken plate and rushed over to the boys. She looked over the both of them.

… Chase wasn’t sure why he was surprised his aunt was checking to see if he was hurt.

“Dad!” Dale’s gaze shot over to Ralph. “Why didn’t you call me?!”

“Oh, sorry, we were a little preoccupied trying to get out of the house without being seen!” Oh, so that’s where Chase got his sarcasm from.

Dale ignored his father’s sarcasm as his hands gripped his hair stressfully. “And you didn’t think to call us during the one-and-a-half-hour drive here?!”

Chase looked over to Agatha as she picked up the mittens from the stove and slipped them on. She bent over to the floor and picked up the shattered ceramic pieces with the mitten. “Maybe we should all lower our voices for a moment!”

Agatha’s voice seemed to pull Beth back into the world. She turned over to Agatha and her eyes widened. “Oh, Agatha, I’m so sorry, I—” She glanced over at the boys and scanned them once more before she rushed over to Mrs. G. “Let me help you with that!”

Agatha looked up at Beth. “Oh, no dear! It’s no trouble, I’ve got it! You’re a bit… preoccupied right now.”

Beth still went on her knees and reached out for the glass. “No, seriously, it’s—Ow!”

“Mom?!” Deacon stood from his stool.

Beth turned to Deacon for a moment. “I’m fine, Deacon.” She turned back to her finger and held it with her left hand. “Just cut myself on the glass.” The kitchen went silent for a moment, the only sound that filled the room was Beth’s hushed wincing. But she turned back to the group soon after. “Okay, so you didn’t call us. That is—Okay. It is okay I guess.” Chase could practically feel her seething rage. “What about the police? Surely, you called the police!”

“Yes!” Deacon’s voice answered quickly.

Unfortunately for him, Chase decided to open his mouth. “No.”

The cousins slowly turned to one another, both of them shared a death glare. At the same time, Chase heard a loud face palm that could have only come from Ralph, while from the corner of his eye, he saw Agatha tilt her head down and sighed as she reached for the broom and dust pan.

Dale turned to his father with wide eyes. For the first time since they walked through the door, Dale’s voice turned into that stern tone Chase knew him by. But for the first time ever, there was something much… darker in it. Something Chase had never seen or heard from Dale before… not except for that one-time Chase and Deacon were at the mall with some friends, and some old man started making some… awful comments to Danielle.

Chase had never seen his dad or Dale get up in other person’s face before until then.

“Dad?!” Dale’s voice was loud as he yelled. “Why did the boys have two different answers?! You did call the police, right?!”

“Dale, it’s difficult to explain—”

“It’s really not?!” Dale’s voice grew in volume; Chase couldn’t remember the last time he heard his uncle yell like this. “Dad, tell me you called the police! Look me in the eyes and tell me you called the police.”

But Ralph didn’t say anything, he turned his face away from his son with closed eyes.

“Dad.” Ralph turned back to his son slowly. “Tell me the truth. Because I know my son and nephew!”

“HEY!” Chase stood from his seat.

Dale whipped his head over to Chase, and the fury in his uncle’s eyes made Chase’s stance falter.

“I did not say your name, Charlie! But thank you for confirming my suspicious.”

“YEAH! WELL, uh… fuck—”

Every single adult in the room turned to Chase. “LANGUAGE!”

“He is eighteen for crying out loud!” Deacon groaned loudly. “He can say ‘fuck’ if he wants to—!”

“Deacon!” Beth scolded her son.

“Mom, I’m twenty, and the past twenty-four hours have been so much more stressful than you can imagine!”

“Twenty-four hours?!” Beth stood from the floor with her finger still in her hand. “What else could have happened other than the house being broken into?!”

Chase looked at Deacon, who looked over at Ralph, who looked at Agatha, who looked at Chase.

Just a room full of side-eyes.

Beth let go of her finger and covered her eyes as she made a stressed noise. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t see that.”

“Dad.” Chase turned to Dale, who was speaking once again. “Did you, or did you not call the police?”

Chase looked over to his grandfather and watched as Ralph tense. He looked to his side and then to the floor. He took a deep breath and then looked back at his son. “… No.”

To say all Hell let loose would have been an understatement.

Agatha sighed as she stood while she held the dustpan with ceramic shards. “There goes telling them softly…” She muttered as she walked over to the trash.

“WHAT?!” Beth screamed. “I’m sorry, but WHAT?!”

“Why don’t we all take a deep breath?” Agatha said as she dumped the ceramic shards into the trash can, but Beth ignored her and instead glared at Ralph.

“You’re telling me that your home was broken into, with MY son, and MY nephew there, and you DIDN’T call the police?!”

“Beth,” Dale was at Beth’s side in a second. “why don’t we listen to Agatha and take a deep breath—”

“NO! Dale, Deacon and Charlie’s lives were in danger! Our SON and NEWPHEW!”

“I know—”

“So, do not tell me to calm down! Not with our only child! Not with our only nephew! NOT with our boys!” Beth turned her fury back to Ralph. “How could you put them in danger like that?!”

“My focus was on getting them OUT of that danger.” Ralph’s voice began to rise. “Out of the house, and into safety! That’s why we ran to Agatha’s home!”

They did NOT know that part. “Gramps, it’s time to stop talkinggg—” Chase muttered through gritted teeth.

“And neither of you thought to call the police?!” Beth’s attention was now on both Agatha and Ralph. “What, did they break into Agatha’s home, too?!”

“Well,” Agatha held up a hand. “no. But—”

“BUT?!” Chase was surprised that Beth’s head didn’t pop off.

“That’s not a question you say ‘but’ to—" Dale’s voice was flat as he stared at Mrs. G with wide eyes.

“We couldn’t stay there!” Agatha added quickly before she glanced at Ralph. She stumbled on her words for a moment as she tried to gather her thoughts. “It’s complicated!”

“What can be complicated about calling the police when your house has been broken into?!” Beth screamed, her hands flew to her head as she tugged on her hair. She looked like she was fighting back hyperventilating.

“A lot of things, actually.”

Deacon turned to his cousin. “Chase, you are not helping—"

“What about the police station?!” Beth looked back at the group. “Did you go there?”

“Well, we didn’t call them. So, I think—I THINK, we might not have visited them either.”

Dale turned to his nephew, but Chase expected a scold on his face and a lecture. He simply saw concern in Dale’s eyes with scrunched eyebrows. “Charlie, what is happening with you today? What’s wrong?”

… fuck, that shouldn’t have gotten him. Chase swallowed a lump in his throat as he did his best to hold his poker face. “A lot.” He tried not to cringe when his voice cracked.

Dale’s gaze only shifted into more worry. Chase had to tear his eyes away from his uncle. He couldn’t cry. Not here. Not right now.

“Beth, dear,” Agatha walked over to Beth just slightly. “we—we didn’t have the time to visit the police station—”

“HOW?! I know it’s been a while since we visited Sugar Springs, but I’m SURE it’s not that far?!”

Gazes were exchanged once more. Wow, you would think by now they would know not to side-eye each other anymore.

“WHY DO YOU ALL KEEP LOOKING AT EACH OTHER LIKE THAT?!” Beth screamed.

Play dumb, Chase! “Uh, Christmas?”

NOT THAT DUMB!

Chase heard the familiar sound of Deacon facepalming.

“We just couldn’t, okay!” This time Deacon jumped into the discussion… if you could call it that. “It’s not our fault!”

“We’re not saying it is, Deacon.” Dale’s voice felt like calm waves compared to Beth’s stressed yelling. “But what could be happening to stop you all from going to the police?!”

“Things.”

Why does Chase keep talking?

“Things?!” Dale repeated but a lot more yelling and a lot less blunt.

“Things.” Chase confirmed.

“Oh my God.” Beth’s hands flew to her face for a moment. She pulled her face out of her hands and looked back at the boys. “What?! Did you break into a library or something.”

Oh.

Well.

That’s.

Chase looked at Deacon.

Deacon looked at Chase.

… why did they look at each other—?

Beth’s eyes widened and she looked like she was going to erupt. “What did you two do?”

“Nothing!” Chase and Deacon said at the same time. Which did wonders in trying to prove their innocence.

Wow, this was going great.

“Somehow, I don’t believe that.” Beth buried her face in her hands again.

“Deacon didn’t DO anything!” Chase moved in front of Deacon. “WE didn’t do anything!” Chase tried not to think about the library card.

“Then why did you two look at each other like?!” Dale’s voice was starting to rise now.

“Don’t yell at them!” Ralph shouted as he stood up.

“Is that why you couldn’t go to the police?!” Beth was starting to sound more hysteric with each and every sentence.

“NO! IT’S BECAUSE WE WERE BEING CHASED!” Deacon screamed.

Chase was smother his cousin in his sleep because there is no way he JUST fucking said that.

Beth and Dale turned to their son with horrified looks. “YOU WERE WHAT?!”

Chase threw his hands in the air. “Might as well tell them about the tracker.”

“THE WHAT?!”

Okay, so Chase doesn’t know how to be quiet—

“Why do you keep talking, Chase?”

“Why do YOU keep wearing sweater vests?”

“There was no tracker!”

“Then why did he say there was?!”

“Because I like attention?”

“Chase, just stop—”

“I’M TRYING TO MAKE IT BETTER!”

“Everyone, why don’t we take a moment—”

“I’m calling the police.”

“NO!”

“What is WRONG with all of you today?!”

“Dale, put the phone down.”

“Dad, your HOUSE was broken into with our boys there! You were chased and didn’t call the police—CHILDREN were in danger!”

“You’ll be in more danger if you call the police.”

“… Are you threatening me…?”

“No, I’m warning you two!”

“Mom, Dad, we just—it’s just a lot. We want to keep you safe—"

“SAFE?! Do you hear yourself right now?!”

“I’m calling them.”

“Uncle Dale, no!”

“Dale, please, it’s all just—”

“Agatha, why are you defending them?! Your daughter was in danger!”

“… I know.”

“You KNOW?! And you’re FINE with that?!”

“OF COURSE NOT! But—everything’s just—”

“Aunt Beth, get off of Mrs. G’s back!”

“Charlie, stop talking back! Just—”

“Dad, give me back the phone!”

“I don’t understand how you all are just okay with putting your lives in danger?! Ralph, we TRUSTED you with our children!”

“And I did my best with protecting them!”

“That was your best?!”

“Yes! It was!”

“SILENCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

The voice was high and it shrilled as it screamed into the room. Chase knew it well, he spoke to the owner of the voice every day. She was one of his most favorite people in the world.

Chase slowly turned around, the counter, the walls, the windows—it was all a blur to him. He turned, and his eyes caught sight of that pale gray coffee table in the living room, with a bright teal bag on top of it. The two colors next to one another were a stark contrast between the two. They clashed and fought, and it was almost an ugly sight. Chase’s eyes slowly widened, not at the horrible clash of the colors, but of the tiny silver colored woman who stood on the table. Her eyes squished closed and her arms to her side, her hands were balled into tight little fists. And she leaned over slightly, as though that shout took every bit of her being to bring into existence.

The room fell silent as all eyes landed on the small woman. Who hesitantly opened her eyes to the sight of a group of humans gaping at her. Silver looked unsure of herself for a moment, like as though she had wondered if she made a mistake.

But whatever her doubts, her head raised high, like how Ruby’s would. She dusted off her dress for a moment before a loud clash filled the room.

Chase whipped his head over to see that the phone had fallen from Dale’s hands and onto the floor. Despite that, Dale’s eyes never left Silver. Beth’s gaze was also stuck onto Silver, her eyes were wide, but her mouth remained closed for a moment. Before it fell open, and closed, then opened again as she tried to form words.

“… Dale, there’s a tiny woman on our coffee table—" Her words were quick, and had the context been any different, it would have even been funny.

Chase turned to Silver, and he was the only one to notice her nerves as she swallowed and made a small smile. “Pleasure to meet you, my name is Little Silver.” Silver hands wrapped around her dress as she fell into a curtsy. It reminded Chase of the first time he had seen her. “I wish we could have met under better circumstances. But I am afraid we are in a dire situation.” Her hands fell to her front, and she cupped them. She almost looked like a princess. “Yes, the house was broken into. But they had a very good reason not to go to the police.”

“Silver—!” Chase had taken a step to her. But he froze when their gazes met. For her eyes held a hint of sorrow, her eyebrows were scrunched up, and her lips quivered.

… He wondered… if Silver was able to cry… would she be crying at this moment?

Chase felt like he failed her.

“Chase, they have a right to know.” She said to him. “Look at them!” She gestured to Deacon’s parents with her arm. “Look at how worried they have been during this entire argument!” Her arm fell back to her side. “I know you want to protect them, I know you don’t want them involved. But the moment we knocked on their door was the moment they became involved. Look at us! Look at you! This is what happens when we don’t tell people the truth. It was okay in the past because things were still safe. But…” Her face scrunched into a mixture of pain and determination. “things are different now. We need to get to that island. We need to save Nox and Violet. But we can’t help them if we aren’t safe. We need help.”

Chase… knew she was. Truthfully, he had been thinking that way for a while. He just didn’t want to admit it. He wanted his mom to know everything, even if it caused her worry. He knew they needed help. They needed help at the library, translating the diary, going through the storage bin. Everywhere they went, everything they did that led them closer to Buddy and Violet, they did it with help. They did it because, for a brief moment, they trusted someone.

… If no one else in the world… Chase was sure he could trust his family.

That he could trust his aunt, and uncle…

That he could trust his mom.

Even if it meant worrying them. Even if it meant putting them in danger. Even if it meant making everything worse.

He knew he could trust them.

And he knew they needed help.

Chase lifted his head as he blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. He scrunched his eyes closed as he swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded.

He didn’t see her. But he knew Silver smiled back at him. A small, loving one that was filled with the hint of concern and worry.

“Thank you, Chase.” He heard her say.

Chase forced his eyes open, he blinked a for more times, and when he was sure tears wouldn’t spill, he tilted his head back down to Silver.

Silver turned to the bag. “Everyone, come on out. We will be safe. For I know Chase, Deacon, Prunella, Mister Hollow, and Mrs. G will protect us. Do not fear these new humans,” she turned back to the group, “for they are family.”

Chase watched Jade slowly step out of the pocket first. Then Bronze, then Copper, and slowly but surely, each of the siblings stepped out of the front pocket and onto the table. Each assisted by Silver, who held her siblings hands as they stepped into a new home.

Silver looked up and beyond Chase. Chase twisted his body and saw a small little girl crouching by the stairs. Her pigtails were all messy now, and her red hair looked wild in the first light of the day. She held onto the railings tightly as she peered below at the adults, a small golden man on her shoulder. Her face twisted into worry and other sorrowful emotions that no eight-year-old should experience.

Oh, Prunella…

How long had she been there?

How long had she been watching this?

Was that why Silver stepped out?

Chase vaguely heard something and turned to Dale and Beth. The sound seemed to be coming from Beth, who was quietly babbling nonsense.

“Now,” Silver turned back to the humans as she addressed all of them. “I imagine you both have some questions. And I assure you, Mr. and Mrs. Hollow, that we will tell you everything soon.” Silver’s face shifted into something more serious and grimmer. “Once Chase’s mother wakes up, we will explain everything…”

Chapter Text

Myra didn’t dream as much as she used to.

Of course, the same applied to nightmares, which she couldn’t complain about. When George had died, she mourned the loss of his presence during the day and was… haunted by him in her dreams. No, she felt haunted wasn’t quite the right word. Haunted seemed to imply that her beloved husband was something negative. That he did more harm than good after his passing.

But it also wasn’t… far off from the word she was looking for. Though it had been years, she was not yet sure if she preferred to mourn the loss of her husband, or to be reconnected with him through her dreams.

But that was neither here nor there. Because regardless, Myra did not dream as much as she used to. Though, if she was being truthful, a part of her preferred that over the nightmares that haunted her in the months that followed her dear husband’s death.

And though she did not dream this night, though her vision remained dark in a vague realm of consciousness and sleep. She heard a faint hum in the distance, and soft piano tiles soon accompanied.

Despite there being no vision, nothing in the empty void of the realm of dreams. She could feel the warmth of a flame as a soft melody gently filled her ears with quiet motifs.

Oh…

She knew this melody.

It was George’s lullaby. Though, she guessed the proper term would have been the Hollow’s Lullaby. She and George sang it to Chase countless times; each soft melody of the piano tile resembled the lyrics she came to know and love.

Look to the moon and stars

Know that the light they give

Is all that I am

“Mom…?”

Myra’s eyes fluttered open, she felt her eyelashes softly brush against her skin as faint sunlight filled her vision. The outline of a figure was faintly lighted with a bright white light, but it didn’t hurt to look at. As her eyes adjusted to the soft light, golden hair strands glowed in the room as her son’s face came into view.

At once, two emotions filled Myra. Pure happiness fluttered in her heart at the sight of her son, and a smile grew onto her face.

The other emotion was confusion.

“Charlie…?” Said confusion was evident in her voice as she spoke, but Myra made sure not to sound upset.

She watched Chase blink rapidly as his eyes glistened, a habit he had developed when he tried not to cry. Had Myra held the strength, she would have thrown her arms around her son and pulled him into a hug.

But despite her smile, Myra arms felt heavy, she fought to keep her eyelids open, and there was a faint ache that rang throughout her entire body.

She wouldn’t cry, she didn’t feel like she was going to. But her heart ached at how the universe refused to allow her to comfort her son.

But Chase smiled at her, that same smile he made when he didn’t want to worry her. That same smile that Myra had no choice but to accept, because what else could she do?

“Hi, Mom. Morning. Did you sleep well?”

Myra tilted her head slightly on the pillow as she gazed upon her son. “Hello, Charlie. I did, did you?”

Chase nodded with a tight smile. “Yeah.”

He was lying.

Myra smiled once more as she pushed that ache in her heart away. “That’s good. You need to rest. You look exhausted.”

His smile faltered for a moment before he tightened it once more. She saw his hands clench for a moment. “It’s been a long week.”

He didn’t say anything more, and neither did Myra. She simply took in her son’s appearance. It looked like he had just washed his hair, which was good. Last she saw him, it had appeared greasy, and Myra knew her son would never willingly let it get to that appearance. The color of his skin seemed just a bit dimmer, perhaps paler. The corner of his eyes drooped downwards ever so slightly, and there were faint dark circles around the corner of his eyes. Myra wasn’t sure if Ralph would have noticed it, but she knew Deacon and even Nox would have noticed. Never mind that she had yet to meet Nox, she trusted Chase’s judgement. So, she knew that whoever he loved, deeply loved her son back.

He looked… so tired. She had just seen him Friday, not even four days ago. Yet, he looked… worse. He looked exhausted…

Just what could have happened to her son since she last saw him?

“Mom.” His voice was soft, but it was filled with such a rough tone that it made Myra’s gaze snap over to him. “I… I’m going to tell you something, and… please don’t freak out. And…” His gaze lifted and through the strands of his bangs he met his mother’s gaze. “please don’t be mad.”

“Charlie…” It took every bit of control to maintain the stability of her lips. “I won’t be mad, and I won’t freak out. I promise.”

Chase bit the inside of his cheek and he nodded slowly. He turned to the door and paused for a moment with a deep breath.

“You all can come in.”

To say Myra was shocked that as her extended family walked in would be an understatement. Beth was the first to enter the room, who wasted no time as she walked over to her sister in law.

“Charlie,” Beth asked. “Can you help your mother sit up for a moment?”

Chase nodded as he stood and helped Myra sit up for just a moment as Beth placed a couple of pillows against the headboard. Beth then assisted Chase as they both moved her against the pillows to sit up.

“Are you comfortable?” Beth asked and Myra nodded and thanked her sister in law.

Myra watched as Chase sat down on the chair next to the bed. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight Deacon, Agatha, and Prunella, who stood outside of the door. They leaned over the doorframe, but she couldn’t see their arms.

Myra laughed nervously as she looked back at her son. “Alright, you’re making me a little nervous now.”

She meant it lightheartedly, but she watched Chase’s gaze remain frozen. There was a grim look in his eyes, his lips pushed into one another as his eyebrows furrowed.

The alarms in her head went off in rapid succession. “What happened?”

“Mom. Please, just, stay calm, okay? And… don’t freak out.”

Myra didn’t point out to Chase how he had already said that. But she watched as her son turned to the trio outside the doorframe and gestured his head for them to walk in.

For a moment, Myra thought she had begun hallucinating, or perhaps she was still sleeping. But as the trio grew closer to her, Myra let out a gasp as she realized the small people in their hands were, in fact, real. She watched with wide eyes as the trio walked over to the bed and gently laid their hands on the mattress as each of the tiny people stepped onto the bed and walked forward.  At first, Myra believed it was the trick of the light before she realized that these small people were one whole color.

She stared at each of them in awe, and counted about twelve of these small people. One, a grey color with a ballgown stepped forward and fell into a curtsey.

“Good morning, Mrs. Hollow. We have heard so much about you. I am Little Silver,” the girl rose and Myra lost her breath when the small woman—Little Silver’s eyes glistened and shined with beautiful rose tinted gem eyes, “the heroine key. And these are my siblings.”

Little Silver gracefully rose an arm and gestured to the other little people on the bed. A golden one stepped forward and bowed. “Salutations, Lady Hollow! I am Big Goldie, the Hero Key!”

Another one took out something from his mouth and nodded to Myra. “Bronze, the Helper Key.” Myra held back a soft chuckle when Little Silver elbowed Bronze. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” He added afterwards.

“Greetings my lady!” This one, entirely colored pink, gracefully placed a hand over his chest as his other arm went to his side, he swung his leg forward as he too, bowed deeply. “I am called Rose, the Lover Key!”

Despite her confusion, Myra brought her hand up to her mouth and couldn’t help the small smile and light chuckle that escaped.

“Hiya!” This next small human popped out from behind Rose. Unlike the others so war, they were bi-colored. They were dark green with little hints of black. They had a short hair that fell out from under a jester hat and baggy clothing. “My name is Serpentine! I am the Jester Key, I am hilarious and you will quote everything I say!”

That one got a genuine chuckle out of Myra.

“Serpentine, you’re meant to take this seriously!” A warm grey human stepped out as they scolded Serpentine, who only giggled.

“I am taking this seriously!” They said with a wide grin.

The warm grey human only sighed as he turned to Myra. “Pleasure to meet you, ma’am.” He nodded to Myra. “I am Iron, I am the Justice Key.” He looked over to another small human who was a deep blue.

She bowed for a brief moment, “Hello Mrs. Hollow. I am Sapphire, the Mentor Key.” She seemed poised and elegant, “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

A much smaller human, at least in height compared to the other siblings, stepped forward, she appeared to be a light shade of jade. Wings that resembled a fairy framed her body, and her dress appeared to almost be made of leaves or petals. She reminded Myra of Tinkerbell a little bit.

She fidgeted with her hands for a moment before her eyes met Myra’s. “Good morning, everyone.” She lifted the edges of her dress and bowed. “I am Jade, the Mage Key.” She looked over to another small human, much taller than her.

He pulled down his hood and bowed just a little. “Name is Copper. I am the Thief Key.”

The last person to step forward was colored a bright red. They lowered their heads for a moment as they acknowledged Myra. “It is an honor to finally meet you all, Mr. and Mrs. Hollow, and Mrs. Hollow. I am Ruby, the Monarch Key. Your sons have been wonderful to my family and I.”

“Oh! Well, this is… surprising!” Myra did her best not to let her shock show, unlike Beth who was sitting on Myra’s right and muttering incoherent words.

“I have a few hundred questions—” Dale held up a hand as he said this and the small grey human—Silver, nodded.

“And we shall do our best to answer them—”

“Did she just say ‘shall’—?”

“—But before, we believe it might be best to explain a few things first.” Silver only smiled at Beth’s statement. But Myra felt something in her chest twist as Silver’s face turned into something grim as she turned to Beth and Dale. “But I think it may be best if you both sit down.”

—

Chase couldn’t look at his mom while they explained everything. He couldn’t look at her face as the keys explained their existence, Ex-Libris, and their kidnapped siblings. Deacon had brought up the diaries, and what they had learned about the history of Ex-Libris so far.

At least, not until he heard his mother’s voice.

“Oh gosh.” Chase’s head shot up from the ground and his gaze landed on his mother. Her eyes weren’t wide, well, compared to Beth’s they weren’t. But they were open just a bit more, and her mouth was opened agape. “That’s…” He watched as his mother took in a deep breath, and Chase felt like someone punched him in the stomach. “that’s a lot of information.”

“We swear it was safe!” The words flew from Chase’s mouth before he could even give thought to them. “It was safe until three weeks ago! Everything was fine, Mom, I promise! We weren’t in danger, we weren’t at risk, a—at least not until three weeks ago. But even then, we’ve been safe!”

“But you said the house was broken into last night, right?”

“I…” Chase’s head fell, he couldn’t lie to his mom. “Yes. It was.” Chase closed his eyes and clenched his hands. “It was. But that’s not going to stop me.” He looked back up at his mother and aunt and uncle. “We have the Narratonin for the wishes, we can end this! We know where the island is, and where they’re holding Nox and Violet!” Chase missed the way Myra’s eyes widened at the mention of the name ‘Nox’. “We just need Nox and Violet, and we can wish all of this away. You can be healthy, Buddy will be human again, and we’ll get rid of Ex-Libris! Kidnapping is illegal, that should be enough to get rid of them once and for all, right?!” His gaze desperately turned to Dale.

Dale seemed surprised that Chase looked at him. Dale thought for a moment before he met Chase’s eyes. “Yes. It should be enough to get them all in legal trouble.”

“And hopefully arrested.” Deacon added.

“Yes!” Chase felt a smile grow on his lips at his cousin’s words; he turned back to his mom. “As long as we have the Narratonin, we should be fin—”

Chase’s words came to a sudden halt as a realization occurred to him. He wanted to fall to the floor and cry.

He heard Deacon step closer to him. “Chase…?”

“… I didn’t get the Narratonin.” He had no idea how he got the words out, for his breath hitched and the control he held on his breathing began to slip.

“Charlie, Charlie,” That was his mom’s voice. “it’s okay, we’ll get it ba—”

“No! It’s not okay! They probably already took it! And it was so important and it took us forever to get it, and I can’t believe I forgot! I had one job, how could I forget the thing to help make my own boyfriend human again—!” He was blubbering words out, his vision blurred and he couldn’t breathe, and—

“Chase, Chase, it’s Agatha, everything’s okay—”

“No, it’s not! I forgot the—”

“No, you didn’t. It’s right here.”

He didn’t realize he had put his head between his legs. He didn’t feel the pain in his scalp from pulling on his hair. His eyes opened and in front of him was a hand with red painted nails. It held two jars of Narratonin in front of him. Chase’s gaze flew up to Mrs. G, who looked at him with such care and worry that guilt rose in his chest.

“But… how did you…?”

Agatha only smiled. “After you told us you were chased in the forest, Mr. Hollow gave me you and Nox’s jar of Narratonin to take care of. It was one of the things I packed in your bag while you were upstairs getting Prunella.”

“Mrs. G…” Chase blinked back tears. “Thank you.”

Agatha nodded and moved away to the side of the bed so Chase could once again have a clear view of his mom.

Chase sniffled and rubbed his nose. “We also think one of our ancestors, Elisabeth Hollow, worked for the d’Ombrage family back when it was founded. We were hoping it might help us figure out a bit more information about Ex-Libris.”

“Okay, wait, slow down.” Beth pushed her glasses up and pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is… this is a lot of information to take all at once.” Chase had never heard Aunt Beth sound so… stressed before. “A cult, being chased in a forest, some family on an island, kidnapping?!” Beth gestured to the keys on the bed. “Somehow, they were the least shocking thing to learn about in the past few hours!”

“Thank… you?” Rose said as he tilted his head in confusion.

“This is just—” Beth buried her face into her hands. “This is so much. All in just a few months! Weeks even! I don’t—this was so dangerous, and—”

“Don’t blame Grandpa or Mrs. G!” Chase interrupted his aunt. “They didn’t know until very recently! So, please don’t get mad at them for not telling you three!” He didn’t mean to sound so desperate, but it was how he felt. He didn’t want his grandfather and Mrs. G to take heat for something that wasn’t their fault.

“Thank you for telling us that, Charlie.” Dale said as he rubbed his wife’s back. “I think what Beth is trying to say, is that we’re just… worried.” Dale locked eyes with Chase. “Charlie, I admire and respect your dedication to saving Myra. I do. I just… I worry you boys will get hurt.”

“No! We won’t! I promise! Uncle Dale, we’re so close! We know where the island is now, and Grandpa said Kowalski likes to collect and build boats, and that he has a really fast one! We can leave today and be back home with all of them tomorrow!”

“Woah, what?!” Deacon looked at his cousin like he grew another head. “Chase, we haven’t talked about that yet!”

“But nothings stopping us, Deacon! We know where the island is, we can go get them right now!”

“Charlie—”

“No!” Chase whipped his head back to his mother. “Mom, please! He’s waiting for me! He’s waiting for me to save him! He’s right there, he’s within my grasp!” He didn’t want his voice to rise, he didn’t want it to crack, but it did. There was no hiding behind a smile, because no smile could hide the pain in his voice. “I already lost him once; I can’t lose him again!”

Chase tried to say more, but his words were choked and strangled in weak cries. He felt his face scrunch and wrinkle into something awful as he fought back tears. He couldn’t cry in front of everyone, he couldn’t. He had to be strong, he had to be, he needed to be strong for Buddy. His hands flew to his face as he threw his head back to face the ceiling.

Chase vaguely heard his grandfather speaking, but he couldn’t understand any of the words that had been said. But he recognized the sound of footsteps retreating, from the corner of his eyes, he saw the keys picked up one by one. But he couldn’t bring himself to do or say anything.

Once he heard the door close, he knew it was just Myra and Chase left now. But he wasn’t going to cry. Not again. Not now. But he…

Chase sniffled. “I’m sorry, mom.” God, he had to sniffle again as he blinked back tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

He didn’t know what else to say. He knew his mother reacted calmly compared to his aunt and uncle, but as he recalled Agatha’s words from only hours ago. He wondered if what he saw was truly how his mother felt, or if she was hiding her emotions.

“I should have told you sooner. I should have told you the moment Nox and Violet were taken. I should have, and wanted, to be honest with you on Friday. But I… I didn’t—I was scared, and I still am. I don’t want you to get hurt, mom. You’re already going through so much, and—”

“Charlie, it’s oka—”

“No!” Chase met his mother’s blue eyes as he blinked rapidly. “I wanted to tell you mom! I wanted to tell you everything! But I—I don’t want you to get hurt!”

Myra tilted her head as her face scrunched into an emotion Chase couldn’t read. “Charlie, I understand. But you don’t get to make that choice for me.”

Chase sniffled and rubbed his nose with the sleeve of his jacket as he chuckled. “You sound like me last time I spoke to Buddy.” A small smile crept to his face. “He told me not to go after him; he didn’t want me to get hurt. And I told him he didn’t get to make that choice for me.”

Myra smiled back at her son. “Your dad always said you took after me.”

Chase chuckled at his mom’s words for a moment before his smile fell again and he looked at his hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Mom.”

“Charlie—”

Chase looked back up at his mom. He couldn’t see it, but the first thing Myra saw was a fire in her son’s eyes. “But I would do it all over again for you and Buddy.”

The smile his mother made filled Chase with warmth, it traveled through his heart and coursed through his veins.

It reminded him of Simon and Ross in the car.

Myra’s eyes crinkled with happiness as pride radiated from her. “I’m so proud of you, honey. And I know your father would be proud of the strong young man you are.”

Chase felt a knot form in his throat before he swallowed it. He smiled and nodded at his mom, but he couldn’t think of a single word to say. At least, not one that wouldn’t cause him to start crying. Yet, despite it all, he felt a small strip of something wet slide down his cheek.

For a while, neither of them said anything else. Because neither of them felt the need to. Chase felt comfort in his mother’s presence. After some time, she began speaking once more, of the little events that occurred in the days since they had seen one another.

“Well, at least you picked a good day to visit.”

Chase cringed. “Mom, I wouldn’t call banging on the front door at five in the morning on Monday a good day to visit.” He laughed at the end of his sentence.

Myra only chuckled lightly, the sound made Chase smile. “Well, because this is the day Danielle visits.”

The.

WHAT?!

“Huh?”

Myra tilted her head in confusion, but her smile remained. “Danielle visits me every Monday. Ever since she joined you and Deacon that one time.” Myra laughed lightly. “I thought you knew.”

Chase tried to smile, but from the look on his mom’s face, he probably looked crazy. “Uh, no, I… crapbaskets.”

“Charlie?”

Chase stood from the chair so suddenly that the force caused the chair to fall over. “I’m gonna go downstairs for a moment, Mom! Excuse me!” Chase rushed out of the room and down the stairs as he caught the soft sound of his mother laughing.

Chase wasn’t even halfway down the stairs when he leaned over the railing and yelled. “SO WAS ANYONE GOING TO TELL ME THAT DANIELLE COMES TO VISIT EVERY MONDAY, OR WAS I SUPPOSED TO FIND OUT FROM MY MOM?!”

“WHAT?!”

“Dorkin! Dorkin!” Chase rushed down the stairs to his cousin and grabbed Deacon by the shoulders. “She visits every Monday!”

“And it’s Monday!” Deacon yelled back and Chase nodded.

“It’s Monday!”

“It’s Monday!”

“You know, sometimes I find it hard to believe you two are related. And then I see things like this happen, and it makes a lot more sense.” Prunella said from the kitchen counter with a plate of pancakes in front of her.

Chase was going to scream.

Chapter Text

Ralph had gone upstairs to speak with Myra after Chase had given Deacon a metaphorical heart attack, and Prunella had joined him. It had been some time since the little girl had seen Myra, and even longer since she had spoken to her.

What Ralph had gone to speak to Myra about—Chase didn’t know. But he had a feeling it had to do with traveling to the island to rescue Buddy and Violet.

And he knew it was about Chase staying here.

He didn’t… if Chase was being honest, he wanted to go. He wanted to join the adults and rescue Buddy. He made a promise, and Chase never broke his promises. That was his boyfriend, his Buddy. He had to be there, he had to see Nox, he had to. He couldn’t just sit here, twiddling his fingers and thumbs like an idiot waiting for his family to come home, and hoping they come home safely with Buddy and Violet.

Call him a control freak, or whatever—he didn’t care. He had to be there; he wanted to be there.

No matter the risks. No matter the costs.

Something cracked between his teeth, and it brought Chase out of his thought sand back into reality. Chase pulled his thumb away from his lips and stared at the jagged and torn remains of his thumbnail.

Chase stopped in his tracks at the sight of his nail. His gaze lifted and he scanned for his extended family. Aunt Beth was in the kitchen with him; she placed dishes into the dishwasher. But Chase noticed the way she would stop to stare at the now healed cut on her finger. Uncle Dale sat at the couch, elbows on his knees as he watched with amazement at the keys mingling on the coffee table. Agatha almost seemed to be babysitting Chase’s uncle. Probably making sure he didn’t overwhelm the keys. Deacon was an exact reflection of Chase—pacing around the living room nervously. Though, there thankfully seemed to be a lot less nail biting compared to Chase. And by ‘a lot less’ Chase meant there was none.

He tore his eyes away from his family and back to his nails.

… He wanted to go with them to get Buddy, but—

Chase brought his thumbnail back to his mouth and he bit down. He had to pick one thing to focus on right now.

Chase felt his teeth bite through tiny bit of nail left on his thumb. “What do we tell her when she shows up?!” Chase looked up to Deacon. “Because she will show up!”

Deacon fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt. “We could tell her the truth? That the house got broken into?”

Chase looked at his cousin as though Deacon had suggested murder. “To Danielle? DANIELLE? Danielle Erika “got a kid expelled because he called me the f-word” Saunders?!”

Deacon opened his mouth to protest but he promptly closed it as memories of Danielle flooded his mind. “Shit.”

“Deacon, language!” Aunt Beth scolded Deacon from the kitchen. She sighed as she placed some pots into the dishwasher. “I don’t understand, why is this such a big deal? Just tell her you came to visit.”

Chase groaned overdramatically. “We can’t! Ross and Simon were over last night, and she knows they were over—Ross texted her!”

Beth’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion as she closed the dishwasher and turned it on. “I really don’t understand.” The room filled with a soft rumbling as she turned to the boys and crossed her arms.

Deacon sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “Danielle just—she worries easily. I don’t even know her that well, and even I know that if she sees us here without a proper explanation, she’ll just… somehow know that something bad happened.”

“Especially because I didn’t answer her messages last night.” Chase felt a piece of his nail crack under the pressure from his teeth. There was a vague sensation of pain, but it wasn’t anything serious. He turned to his aunt. “What time does she usually come over?”

Beth looked over at the electric clock on the wall and cringed. Chase’s eyes followed her gaze and found it was a little past eight in the morning. They had spent roughly an hour waiting for his mom to wake up, and he didn’t know how long they all spent talking and explaining everything to her.

Beth turned back to Chase. “Less than an hour, usually.”

“Oh, so we’re fucked.” Deacon’s voice came out rather blunt.

“What do we do?!” Chase wanted to fall to the floor. But he settled by burying his face into the palm of his hands for now.

Beth gave Deacon that scolding look all mother’s gave their children at some point or another. But she didn’t seem to linger on it for too long before she brushed it off. “Okay, well, first things first.” She walked over to Chase and gently placed her hand on his. She pulled his hand away from his mouth. “Stop biting your nails, you’re going to bite into your skin and start bleeding.” She sighed heavily as she placed a hand on her mouth as she thought for a moment. “Okay, Chase, you, Deacon, and Ralph are going to go change into clean clothes. Deacon, you can lend Chase some of yours, but,” she held out a finger, “have Chase pick out the clothes. If you really don’t want Danielle to suspect anything, then it’s best to get out of your muddy pajamas, into clean clothes. Preferably ones that you boys would actually wear.” Beth looked over to Dale. “Dale, can you—Dale, leave the tiny family alone please!” She sighed exasperatedly. “Dale, can you go upstairs and tell your father, Prunella and Myra what I just told the boys, please?”

Dale didn’t say anything, but he did nod. He began to make his way upstairs, but not before giving the keys one last look before he continued his way up.

Beth looked like she was going to die from embarrassment.

“Honestly…” She awkwardly looked at the keys and cleared her throat. “I am, uh, sorry about that. We’ve just… never imagined something like this.”

Silver laughed, though, Chase could tell it was her nervous laughter. “It is no problem.” Silver said with a wave of her hand. “This is the reaction we were expecting.” She shifted on her feet, her discomfort may not have been clear to Beth, but it was certainly clear to Chase. “Although, we would… not be opposed to more privacy.”

Her discomfort was now clear to Beth, who only nodded. “Of course.” Beth looked over to Mrs. G. “Agatha, do you think you can stay in the guest room with Prunella and the keys until Danielle leaves? We can explain Ralph and the boys being here, but… I don’t think we would be able to explain you and Prunella.” Beth sighed, and it carried a sense of exhaustion Chase had never heard from his aunt. “Danielle has always been a sweet girl. And I don’t doubt the way Chase and Deacon have described her. I don’t think there’s a way to explain you both here without her getting suspicious.”

Agatha nodded. “Yes, we’ll go right now.” Agatha walked over to the coffee table and held out her hands and arms. Each of the keys climbed onto his neighbor in various ways. Silver lifted her dress and gracefully stepped onto Agatha’s hand. While others, such as Serpentine, joyfully hopped onto Agatha’s arm and made their way up to the top of the human’s head. The keys antics brough a chuckle out of Agatha. “We can work on rebuilding their houses while we’re up there.”

Each of the keys held different reactions to Mrs. G’s statement. Some, like Serpentine and Rose, reacted excitedly at the idea of building another home. Others, such as Silver and Bronze had a more dejected reaction at the realization that they had lost their home.

It too, made Chase realize he wasn’t the only one who lost something last night.

Chase could see that Beth too, had realized the same. For a moment, he saw sorrow shift in her face before it morphed back into one of collectedness. She turned back to Agatha with that collected face. But Chase could still see that hint of guilt in his aunt’s eyes. “Thank you for… understanding. We can both go shopping for some clothes for you and Prunella later. If you would like.” Beth smiled kindly. Chase couldn’t remember the last time he saw his aunt smile like that. Then again, most of his recent memories of Beth were of them fighting or her scolding either him or Deacon.

Agatha smiled back. “I would, thank you.” Her words were kind, but Chase could tell she was a bit sad at the loss of her handmade gowns. Beth looked as though she wanted to say more but couldn’t think of what to say.

His aunt was never that good at comfort.

So, instead Aunt Beth sighed and then clapped her hands together. “Alright everyone. Let’s get into action, go!”

With that, everyone sprung into, well, action. Agatha made her way upstairs with Beth, who had to show the neighbor where exactly the guest room was located. Chase and Deacon, meanwhile, hauled over to Deacon’s room. They passed by their family and Prunella in the hall, and briefly greeted them.

Myra seemed to be in good spirits still. Her smile brightened at the sight of her son and nephew, and Deacon went over to give his aunt a hug while Chase made his way to the closet.

Chase pulled the closet door open with both of his hands. He stared at the—dear GOD why are there so many SWEATER VESTS IN HERE.

“Alright Dorkin, let’s try to find the least lame clothes you have that won’t make me break out in hives!”

“I hate you.”

Deacon’s response got a chuckle out of Myra. To which Chase responded with a dramatic gasp and stated how hurt he was that his mother found his cousin hating Chase so funny. It earned another laugh out of her, which made Chase smile.

Much to Chase’s surprise, it didn’t take them that long to find two articles of clothing that Chase wouldn’t die from embarrassment from. Though, considering it was Deacon’s closet, it wasn’t anything cool like the clothes Chase had. Chase had chosen a plain white button up, though, he kept the first two buttons undone. He wasn’t going to some prim and proper academy with uniforms after all. So, he had to show off that collar bone just a tiny bit to look less like a dork, and more like the world’s next best pop star.

They had also spent some time looking for pants, although that search ended rather quickly considering the spider legs Dorkin had. They settled with an old pair of shorts Deacon, and his mom had missed and gave it to his cousin to wear. During all of this, the three of them went over what the plan was when Danielle arrived.

“Love to see that I’m wearing the same exact thing I wore to the library.” Chase said as he shrugged on his signature black and teal jacket.

Deacon only shrugged as he buttoned up his shirt. “At least you have your jacket this time.”

True, at least there was that. Chase wasn’t going to say it out loud because it sounded dumb but… he felt a lot more… normal with his jacket on. A bit less like the empty husk he had become and a bit more like Chase Hollow. He felt warm, welcomed, at home. He felt safe.

Even if it was a false sense of security, he felt like he was more at home. And that brought him more comfort than anything else these past few days.

From downstairs, Beth’s voice was distant, but her words were clear. “Deacon!”

Deacon looked over to the door that had been left open ajar and sighed. He buttoned his last button and picked up the sweater vest he had laid on the bed—dear god—and looked at Chase. “I’ll be back. You should uh, sit next to Aunt Myra!” He began to pull the sweater vest over his head. “Danielle will be less surprised if she sees you there… probably.”

Wow, thanks Dorkin. That did wonders to calm Chase’s nerves.

Nevertheless, Deacon walked out of the room and shut the door. Chase made his way over to his mom, who was had begun to knit while the boys searched for clothes; he brought the same chair from Deacon’s desk over to the side of the bed.

“I didn’t know Danielle visited you.” Chase said as he took a seat onto the chair.

Myra nodded as she intricately weaved the yarn into patterns. “Yes. Every Monday. She’s a very sweet girl. She likes to bring me flowers, like you do.” She held out her project for Chase to look at. He couldn’t tell what it was exactly, but the yarn was a dark green, and the Myra was knitting in thin lines. “They’re Sunflowers, they symbolize appreciation.” She brought her project back to her and resumed knitting. “I was hoping to have it done today for her visit.” Myra brought a hand to her mouth as she began to cough. Chase felt his body tense as he leaned forward, ready to jump into action if necessary.

But her coughing ended just as soon as it began. Myra lowered her hand and it landed on her chest in the center of her collarbone. “But there’s been some…” Something shifted in her eyes. “I haven’t had as much time.” She said with a smile to Chase. But Chase knew what that meant, he knew what that smile meant.

His mom was getting worse.

That’s why she didn’t have as much time.

… How much time do they truly have left to rescue Buddy and Violet?

“But I think I’ll have it done by her next visit.” Myra’s voice was like an angel that pulled Chase out of his thoughts.

But just as quickly as he was pulled out, he was pulled right back in as he heard the doorbell go off downstairs. Chase couldn’t move as he heard the door open, footsteps moving, and the unmistakable sound of Danielle’s voice as she greeted the Hollows’ downstairs.

He imagined Danielle, wearing her favorite yellow sweater and her tan colored jean skirt. He could see the way she held a bouquet of flowers in her arms as she tucked stray hairs behind her ear as she walked in with a huge smile. They way she showed her teeth when she grinned and how she probably shook Dale’s hand, and made small talk, and—

Chase felt something warm on his hand. It brought his senses and mind back to reality as he looked at the pale withered hand on top of his, before he looked up at his mom.

Myra held a kind smile as she looked at her son. “Everything will be alright, honey. Do you remember what to tell her?”

Chase nodded as his mom squeezed his hand with as much strength as her body allowed her to.

… it wasn’t a lot of strength.

Chase sniffled. “After Ross and Simon left, we decided we should see you all to give the good news about Nox. And that we would leave first thing in the morning.”

“Good. And only tell her if she asks. Don’t panic, if she asks about why, then you can tell her, okay?”

Chase nodded as he heard footsteps grow in sound. “Okay—”

The door opened gently, and there at the center of the frame, was Danielle backpack straps on her shoulders and a bouquet of flowers in her arm. Her hair in curls as it draped over her shoulders and down her back. Her smile grew into a large ‘o’ shape at the sight of Chase, before it stretched into a joyful smile.

“Chase!” That smile of hers seemed to light up the room as she rushed over to Chase. The light gave him the strength to stand, and he rushed over to her as well.

Their arms wrapped around one another. Danielle’s hugs were always warm; she always hugged people like it was the last time you would hug someone. Even now, she seemed to hug Chase with just a bit of extra love.

She pulled away from Chase, and she still had that excited grin on her face as her hands landed on Chase’s arms. “Deacon’s mom said there was a surprise waiting for me upstairs, but I didn’t think you would be here!” She leaned in a bit with excitement, and Chase couldn’t help but to match her energy. “I didn’t see the truck outside!”

Given her surprise to see Chase, she probably didn’t see Deacon. But why? Where could he be? He was probably checking on the keys. Or maybe he just needed some time alone, it had been a very stressful night… and day… really just the past forty-eight hours in general.

Oh shoot, wait, the truck. They never went anywhere without the truck!

“Yeah! We—” shoot, “took a new car today!” God damn it, Chase.

Danielle didn’t seem to notice his blunder. For she clapped her hands together with a large smile, her cheeks glowed red. It was something that happened when she was unimaginably happy. “Really?! That’s great!” She looked over at Myra. “Good morning, Mrs. Hollow!” She took Chase’s hand and made their way over to Myra. “I brought you some lilies today, I hope you like them!” Danielle let go of Chase’s hand as she handed the flowers over to Myra, who held them gently.

“Oh, they’re lovely Danielle, thank you. I love them.” Myra smiled kindly as she handed the flowers back to Danielle.

Danielle took the flowers with a smile and walked over to the vase by the bedside and placed the flowers in them. “I’m glad you’re here, Chase! Because you,” she twirled around and grabbed both of Chase’s hands and sat him down at the chair he was on just a moment ago. “have some explaining to do!” Danielle turned to Agatha with an accusatory look. “Mrs. Hollow, did you know that Chase has a boyfriend?!”

Myra laughed at that, a hand over her mouth. “Yes, I do.”

‘Yeah, but you don’t know he’s four inches tall just yet.’ Chase thought as he looked off to the side.

“Well I didn’t!” Danielle turned to Chase with her hands on her hips. “You have a lot of explaining to do—!”

“Yeah, your spam messages from THREE IN THE MORNING said something like that.”

“—I just asked you a few weeks ago if you met someone, and you said no!” She was still standing as she spoke. Chase gestured to the side of the bed, and Myra leaned over just slightly to pat that same empty spot. Danielle happily took a seat on the bed, but she didn’t miss a beat in her playful lecture.

“To be fair,” Chase held up his hand with a smile. “we weren’t dating yet.”

“SO, YOU DID MEET SOMEONE!? I knew it!” Danielle lightly hit the mattress in shock before she turned to Myra. “Mrs. Hollow, are you hearing this!”

Myra only continued to laugh at the two, clearly entertained by their antics. One of her arms wrapped around her stomach as joyful, but light laughs filled the room. But those laughs slowly dissolved into soft but unpleasant coughs.

Chase stood so quickly he knocked the chair over. “Mom?”

Myra shook her head; the coughs began to die down as she looked at Chase. “I’m okay, hon, thank you. Please, sit back down.”

But Chase didn’t want to. He didn’t. But he listened. He turned around and picked up the chair and sat down. He hoped Beth or anyone would come in, he understood them worrying, but he didn’t really want anyone else in the room right now.

It wasn’t until he sat back down onto the chair, that he noticed Danielle’s gaze locked onto him. One hand in her pocket halfway pulling out her phone, and the other with her arm outstretched to Chase.

Slowly, a soft smile came to Danielle’s face. “How are you feeling today, Mrs. Hollow?”

Myra’s smile also returned slowly. “Good, thank you, hon. Just a bit tired, it’s been a very eventful morning.”

Chase watched as Myra’s eyes widened only slightly as she realized what she had. But she hid it extraordinarily well.

Unlike Chase who stared at his mom with wide eyes and an open mouth.

Thankfully, Danielle didn’t seem to notice Chase’s shocked face (and if she did then she didn’t say anything about it.)

“Yeah!” Danielle said with a laugh. “I bet it was eventful with Chase around.”

“Hey!”

Chase wasn’t sure how much time had passed. But he knew he enjoyed every second of it. The three of them talked about all sorts of topics, from the movies coming out, to Halloween, even a party Ross was going to throw in a couple of weeks as one final hurrah for Summer.

Maybe Chase could take Buddy to it.

It must have been an hour, if not more, before a soft knock came from the door. Beth entered the room as she pushed up her glasses.

“Sorry you two, but it’s time for Myra to rest now. This morning was very busy, and we don’t want to stress her out.”

Chase looked over to Myra. “Mom?”

Myra smiled. “It’s okay, hon. It’ll only be for a little bit.” She turned to Danielle. “It was wonderful to see you, Danielle.”

Danielle smiled as she stood. “Of course, Mrs. Hollow. I’ll see you next week.”

They begin to head to the door, but Beth stopped them for a moment.

“You can stay for a while if you want, Danielle, since Chase is here. Deacon is taking a nap, and I have to go run a few errands, so I won’t be here. But Ralph and Dale are.”

Danielle nodded. “Okay, thank you ma’am.”

The pair walked out the room, but not before Chase looked at his mother one last time. Myra smiled at him, and Chase returned the smile back to his mom. Chase knew that the errands Beth was referring to were likely going shopping with Agatha. So, he should probably think of a way to get Danielle away from the front of the house. At least so she wouldn’t see Mrs. G and Prunella.

“You wanna go walk around the neighborhood?” Chase asked as they walked down the stairs. He pointed to the front door with his thumb as he looked at Danielle.

Danielle gave him a teasing smile and a raised eyebrow. “Like in middle school?”

“OH GOD!” Chase broke into laughter as they reached the end of the stairs. He buried his face in his hands as his shoulders shook with laughter. “Don’t remind me! We don’t speak about Middle School Chase.”

Danielle only kept that teasing smile. “Ah, yes, Middle School Charlie Everett Hollow, who thought he had a crush on me, but just really wanted to be my friend.”

“God!” Chase tore his face out of his hands as they reached the front door. His shoes rested by the entrance, and he quickly put them on. “In my defense!” Chase reached for the door handle and held the door open for Danielle, who walked through it and into the outside world. “I thought you were super cool.”

“Yes, me in all of my braces and glasses glory was super cool.”

“We were matching!” Chase said as walked out and closed the door. They both laughed as Chase lifted up the ‘Welcome Home’ mat in front of the door and pulled out the extra spare key they kept. The front door locked with a satisfying click, and Chase placed the key back under the mat.

… They should probably move that somewhere else. Keeping a key to the front door under a mat wasn’t… the best idea anymore.

No, let’s stay positive. Danielle was here, and this was the closest to normal that he had felt in a while.

Chase turned on his heel to see Danielle waiting for him down the front steps. He reached her side and the two began to walk down the sidewalk with no particular destination in mind.

“You know,” Chase started, “this isn’t a Very Cool way to talk to your ex.”

Danielle only snickered. “Chase, it lasted five and a half days, it doesn’t count. And I know you don’t count it either!”

“You’re right, I don’t.” He laughed.

Danielle lightly pushed his shoulder. “You better not! Because then that would mean my first ever date was in your living room as you gushed about Jungkook, Alistair, the pizza guy, Niko from History Class—”

“I get it, the closet was glass!” They laughed together. “A five-and-a-half-day relationship that ended with me realizing that I was gay.”

“When you say it like that, it sounds like I was an awful partner!”

“I thought we weren’t counting it?”

Laughter wasn’t a foreign sound to Chase, he had plenty of it the past few days, some of it came from him. But there was something about this laughter now, as he walked through a neighborhood with Danielle. A bright blue sky painted across the clouds above.

Danielle’s laugh began to soften, and it made Chase smile as she started to speak again. “But I always enjoyed those walks you took me on.” Her face softened as she gazed out over the houses with a content look. “The ones around the farm or the town. Even if we didn’t do them for long, they were nice. Because we were just hanging out.”

“Yeah… we haven’t done that in a while. And you’ll be leaving soon.”

Shoot, he didn’t mean to make such a depressing comment. Whereas Simon was taking a gap year, and Ross was attending the local college in Sugar Springs for his core credits; Danielle had been accepted into a university out of town. She would be leaving in a few weeks, as classes in this part of Wisconsin began in October.

He knew he had some time left with her. But, there had been so much happening, and Chase was…

“Hey…” Danielle held out her hand and gently touched Chase’s shoulder. Her voice was soft and remorseful as she spoke. “It’s only a one-hour drive. I’m not going that far.”

“Yeah, but…” Chase kicked a small rock and watched it skitter down the sidewalk. “I guess I’m just used to you being a phone call away.”

“You say that like I won’t haul my butt over here if something happens.”

He knew she meant it; it was Danielle of course. He knew she had said it light-heartedly to make him laugh. But…

He had to say something. He had to laugh or smile so she wouldn’t worry. But Chase suddenly found himself unable to fake that tug on his lips.

“Did you two get into a fight?”

“Huh?” Chase turned to Danielle. Her eyebrows were scrunched with worry.

“Buddy. I think Ross said that was his name, I’m sorry if I’m wrong. But did you two get into a fight?”

“Oh, uh, no just…” Chase pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “some… things came up that might make seeing him more… difficult.”

He couldn’t see Danielle, but he heard the way her face morphed into sadness. Because that was just how Danielle was. She felt for others so easily, even if someone was struggling with something she had never experienced, she could feel their pain.

Chase admired her for that.

“Oh, Chase, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, I was uh…” He dug his nails into his hands. “I was supposed to meet him there. But… some stuff happened, and now I don’t think I’ll be allowed to go.”

“Allowed?”

Ah, shit.

“Yeah, uh.” Chase pulled out his right hand to scratch his head. “It’s a long ride.” Shoot, he didn’t actually know how long it would take to get there. “Grandpa, Deacon and I were going to drive up there and pick him up. But… some things came up and now, well, I haven’t talked about it with Grandpa just yet, but I’m sure he doesn’t want me to go along now.”

Chase didn’t look at Danielle, he kept his eyes glued to the front as he walked. Loose pieces of gravel and stray pebbles crunched under his feet as he walked. He risked a glance at her after a few moments but was meant with no one.

“Danielle?” Chase froze in his spot. His heart hollowed and froze as he wondered if the worst had happened. He whirled around and relief filled his chest as he saw her standing just a few steps away. But that relief was short-lived when he caught sight of her face.

Her eyes were squished, but only slightly. Her eyebrows were furrowed with a sense of concentration and worry. Her lips pulled into a straight and neat line. There was clear worry in her face, but there was also anger.

It was the same face she made right before she reported that boy in their Sophomore year.

“Does he need help?”

“What?”

“Buddy.” Her voice didn’t waver as she spoke. “Is he in danger?”

Ah, there was the Danielle that Chase knew. The only who was ready to jump into action when something happened. Who was able to see through the words and facades people put on, and see their pain.

This was Danielle Erika Saunders. And she was ready to get involved.

But Chase couldn’t let her get involved.

“I…” Chase looked away, his hands balled into fists as he struggled with his words.

“I—” Danielle sighed as her face softened slightly. “I’m sorry. Simon texted me last night about… what happened in the car.”

Oh, that’s great. Chase wasn’t upset that Simon told Danielle (he was more surprised that it was Simon who told Danielle. Which just meant that Chase worried him. Yay. Chase was such a great friend.)

Danielle seemed to have caught Chase’s panic. For she held out her hands and spoke quickly. “Please don’t be upset, he was just worried! Ross texted me the same thing, and… Chase,” her face morphed back into that serious one. “does Buddy need help?”

He wanted to be honest. He could never lie to Danielle. Not only because he knew Danielle would probably see through it, but because it was Danielle. But he couldn’t put her at risk… he couldn’t…

Chase risked a look at her eyes, and as their gazes met, it occurred to Chase that Danielle might… have thought that Buddy was in a different situation.

Not one with magical keys, a cult, and going into books—of course not.

But one with an abusive family.

He… he didn’t want to. Chase felt as though he was taking advantage of a real situation thousands of people suffered with every day. Wasn’t that cruel of him? To use such a horrible situation that was a reality for far too many people for his own advantage. All to lie to his friend?

Did that make him a horrible person?

Chase thought it did.

But as he clenched his fist and stared back into Danielle’s eyes, he found he couldn’t think of anything else.

He had to lie to her.

He couldn’t risk her.

Not Danielle.

Not Ross.

Not Simon.

Not them.

If that meant taking advantage of a horrible life so many victims suffered with… if that made him a horrible person.

Then Chase was a horrible person.

“Yes—” The words spilled out before he could stop them. Much to Chase’s horror, he found that he didn’t feel… guilty about it. He didn’t feel like he made a mistake, at least, the feeling wasn’t that prevalent in him. Though, there was no denying the way his brain was screaming at him. Demanding to know what he had done. Asking him if he remembered the library card and Ana.

Danielle was quiet for a moment before she spoke again. “Is he in danger?”

“Yes.” He needed to stop talking.

“… Is that why your grandpa might not want you to go with him?”

Chase dug his nails into his skin. His lips wavered as something unnerving tried to push through his throat. “Yes—” God, Chase didn’t mean for his voice to crack.

A few heartbeats passed before Danielle spoke again, Chase counted every single one of them.

One.

Two.

Three.

Fou—

“Why don’t you call the authorities?”

Chase held back a dry laugh, before he realized that DANIELLE was probably going to call the authorities if he didn’t. “NO! No! It’s—it’s complicated!”

“But, Chase—!” She cried, her worry evident on her face.

“They haven’t hurt him!” Chase ran to Danielle.

“But they might—!” She argued back as Chase reached her. He placed his hands on her shoulders as he stared into her dark brown eyes. They glistened and shined with fear and worry, and Chase couldn’t believe he had made her feel this way.

“They won’t!” He said quickly. “I know they won’t! they won’t lay a finger on him! They nee—” Chase stopped himself midway through his words. He couldn’t say that, Danielle would only push if he said that. He would have to explain everything, or some up with something on the fly. His grip tightened for a moment before he realized he might be hurting her. He loosened his grip as his gaze fell to the sidewalk below them. “They won’t hurt him, I know they won’t…” His voice softened as he spoke. “They won’t hurt him… they can’t afford to… I just…” He lifted his head and his gaze landed on her eyes. Chase didn’t know what face he had made, just that his eyebrows were scrunched together. But it clearly hurt Danielle, for her face twisted into worry and pain. “I need you to trust me. We… we know what we’re doing. We’re… going to get authorities involved at some point. But we need to get him and his sister first! We have to! If we call authorities before we get them, then they’ll probably get hurt!” His words began to choke in his throat. “Just… please… don’t tell anyone, not Simon or Ross, not another soul… we can’t risk anything… Danielle, please, I beg you…” He blinked back tears as he squeezed her shoulders lightly. “Please… trust me.”

Chase let his head fall as he scrunched his eyes closed. He didn’t count the seconds as they passed, he didn’t look at Danielle, he didn’t move.

But he felt fingers gently wrapped around his wrist. He felt Danielle pull his hands off of her shoulders before her grip slid into his hands. Chase lifted his head up and saw Danielle’s gaze on him, her expression was something he couldn’t read. But he could feel the love and care in it.

“I trust you. I always will.”

She squeezed his hands, and Chase felt that same warmth of love that he had felt in the car with Ross and Simon. He wanted to fall into her arms and sob, he wanted to so badly.

But he didn’t.

“… I think you should go with them.”

“What?” Chase couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“With your grandpa, and whoever else is going.” She repeated. “Go with them.”

“But—I can’t, I—”

“Can’t or won’t?” Danielle argued back. “You could get hurt, right? I know. I don’t… I would be lying if I said I didn’t want you to get hurt, but I also don’t want Buddy to get hurt.”

Chase chuckled softly. “You don’t even know him.”

Danielle smiled. “I don’t need to. He’s human, just like you and me. That’s all I need to know about him.”

She said it so simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“You want to go, right?” She asked once more.

“I—yes, but—”

“Then go.”

“But I… I can’t, the—”

“Because your grandpa will say no?” Chase nodded and Danielle sighed. “Probably. But, you want to go. You’re smart, Chase. You already know what’s at risk. If you want to go, then go.” She squeezed his hands once again. “Chase, what do you want to do?”

Chase stared back at Danielle’s eyes, he saw the sincerity in them. He wished he was a bit more like her. Here Danielle was, telling Chase she didn’t want him to get hurt, but still encouraging him to go rescue Buddy. Even if it resulted in him getting hurt. While he lied to his friends, made up stories and hid his emotions.

… He couldn’t tell if that made him selfish or not.

Nor could he tell if his answer to Danielle’s question made him selfish.