Chapter Text
On the night of King Falls AM’s debut, it’s hard to say who’s more nervous; Ben, or Jack.
It’s not like Jack’s never been behind a mic before, far from it. He had hosted a few hours at his college’s radio station and there were plenty of times he had been a guest on Shotgun Saturday Nights.
But behind-the-scenes is where he’s always thrived. Soundboards and schedules are his bread and butter, and that skill set had nicely rounded out their trio. Jack, adept at technology and sweet-talking guests and studios; Lily, the cunning writer and ruthless interviewer; and Sammy… a great voice, personable, witty, and usually level-headed, he's almost the perfect radio personality.
Nowadays, the three of them couldn’t be farther apart.
Still, the only open position at King Falls Radio was for a host. So, a host he will be.
That doesn’t mean he’s confident enough to go at it alone.
Meeting Ben goes by in a blink but Jack takes an instant liking to him. The kid is nervous and a little star-struck from talking with someone from “big city radio”, but he’s incredibly earnest. His ambition to be one of the greats of journalism reminds him of Lily, albeit with way more naivety. Not to mention that he doesn’t look like he could hurt a fly.
As the time approaches, Jack forces himself to sit down and let the other producer do the setup. At some point during this, he manages to talk Ben into turning the second mic on. He says something about helping him get his footing and easing the town into it with someone more familiar on the air. Ben’s jitters are enough for him to be easily swayed.
Ben counts down going live and Jack does his best to slip into performance mode. He tries to channel the feeling he has when bantering with Sammy, the ease of talking with someone into empty air until the air talks back. But he should probably use at least 80% less cursing, if the way Ben’s finger casually rests over the bleeper button is anything to go by.
The on-air light shudders to life and the words pour out of Jack’s mouth easier than he expects.
“Good evening, King Falls. I’m Jack Wright and you’re listening to King Falls AM, 660 on the dial.” It’s a new intro and new numbers to get used to, but with that out of the way, Jack just needs to - talk. “Believe it or not, I just moved in bright and early today and now I’m sitting here with you at two in the morning. But I still don’t think I’m running on as much caffeine as my producer here.”
“How could you possibly know that?” Ben asks, voice high and defensive. He’s also definitely not looking at the station mug sitting on his side of the desk that Jack’s seen him refill at least twice in less than an hour. Jack eyes it pointedly, but of course this doesn’t communicate through the audio.
“Call it a lucky guess, but let’s just say I know your type,” Jack replies. He relaxes a bit with the knowledge that he won't be left out in the cold for his first broadcast. He had been a little scared that the kid would chicken out and sit there the whole time flipping switches. “Ladies and gents and everyone else, this here is the coffee junkie himself, my producer Benjamin Arnold.”
“You… You really don’t have to do this,” Ben mumbles, eyeing the mic like it might bite him.
“We’re already live; the damage is done,” Jack says gently. He watches for signs of acute anxiety, but things don’t seem that bad so far. It seems to be just shyness, but Jack’s more than prepared to put on the brakes should he have to.
“I-I just don’t want to ruin the journalistic integrity of myself, is all,” Ben says. Jack has to hold back a laugh.
“My advice is that the experience is more important than the principle of the thing - it’s all about putting yourself out there,” Jack says. Falling back on his reputation points seems to do the trick. Ben nods after only a second of consideration.
A pause follows that makes them dangerously close to being dead air already. Jack skips back a few steps. “Well, like I was saying, I’m brand new in town and barely know what to do with myself,” He says, as if he hadn’t dedicated the last few months of his life to obsessive research. “The shops look sweet and the tourist spots seem fun, but I’m more than open to insider tips from the residents! We’ll open up the phone lines in just a minute to you listeners so you can give me some real advice outside of what I can find on City Hall’s webpage.”
“Dude, I don’t think they’ve updated the coding on that since, like, 2007,” Ben snorts. Jack takes his word for it, seeing as how city government hadn’t exactly been high up on his research list. “The ‘Best Small Town In America’ banner looks straight out of WordArt, honestly.”
“Potential copyright infringement of that statement aside, ‘Best Small Town’, you say?” Jack prompts.
Ben winces for a moment but perks up again almost immediately. “Yep! We’ve been voted ‘Best Small Town in America’ six years straight by the King Falls Chamber of Commerce.”
Jack takes a second to run that statement through his head again, but he doesn’t think he heard wrong. “So… you voted yourselves ‘Best Small Town In America’? Multiple times?”
“Well, not the citizens, obviously that’d be biased,” Ben replies and Jack can actually feel his brow furrowing deeper. “But we’re still super proud of it. There’s a parade down Main Street and a ribbon cutting by the mayor himself! Six. Years. Running.”
He looks confident and proud for once, so Jack decides to let it slide. “Right… Um, well, that sounds festive,” Jack says, trying for an upbeat tone.
“It is! Last year I even sat right next to Mayor Grisham,” Ben says, then adopts a wistful, almost dreamy expression. “I could see that velvety blue ribbon being cut…”
“...Cool,” Jack says, suddenly out of words. He’s about to awkwardly transition back to opening up the phones when he remembers what happened on his way over.
“Oh! Ben, I’m sorry to break this to you but you’re actually not the first person I met in town,” He says, watching the other man raise his eyebrows expectantly. “That honor goes to Deputy Kriegshauser, who helped me out when I got turned around trying to drive up the mountain.” Jack had been running late (at least, late by his standards) and couldn’t have been more grateful to the man.
“Yep, that sounds like Troy,” Ben says with a smile, “Where’d you get lost, anyway? There’s only so many roads in this town, though maybe you big city folk get confused with all the bends.”
Ignoring the jab, Jack decides to take a leap of faith and voice his honest thoughts. He just hopes Ben won't laugh. “I was in Sweetser Forest, so it makes me think that it might’ve been General Abilene playing tricks on me. Although, I didn’t notice any signs that could’ve been turned around like the legend says is his M-O.”
To his relief, Ben’s reply is as earnest as ever. “Oh wow, really? That sure sounds like him, but that’s definitely a new one. What a way to welcome you to town!” He says with a grin, one which Jack gladly returns.
“Well, you’ve heard my story about my weird welcome wagon, now let’s hear yours. Hit us up at 424-279-3858,” Jack says, reaching for the button to open up the lines at the same time Ben does. Jack leans back to let him, and within moments they have an array of blinking lights.
“Oh, look who it is!” Ben says, punching a button before Jack can actually look, “Line 6, you’re live!”
“Well, howdy y’all!” The Deputy’s unmistakable drawl makes Jack smile.
“Deputy Kriegshauser! So nice to talk to you again,” He greets warmly.
“Now, now, you can just call me Troy, okay? I feel like I know you well enough after watching you chase tail in the forest for damn near twenty minutes,” He says with a laugh in his voice. At this, Ben looks more amused than ever while Jack feels confused.
“Twenty? You sure you wound your watch this morning? I swear it wasn’t more than a few minutes…” He didn’t remember reading about time dilation being one of the aparation’s abilities - he’d have to update his notes.
“Sure as the sunrise,” Troy says, and Jack can only feel a little embarrassed because of how gentle his voice is, “I felt like I had a front-row seat to the King Falls 500. Finally had to intervene or we’d all be listening to ol’ Chet blow that horn for another couple hours. You gotta watch out for the general! He’s sneakier than a honey badger in a beehive!”
“I’ll definitely keep that in mind, Troy-”
“Ah hell, I think I just saw one of the William’s boys just ding dong ditch ol’ Ms. Baker. I gotta go, boys,” He tells them, and they hear a couple muffled curses while Troy tries to hang up that Ben quickly censors. He really does have a fast trigger finger.
“With that, it’s time for our scheduled break. Keep those calls coming! We’ll get back to you after a word from our sponsors,” Ben says, hitting the button to run whatever’s in the queue.
Jack listens to the ad with half an ear as he takes a moment to enjoy how unbelievably well this is going, considering that one of them hasn’t hosted on his own in years and the other has never hosted at all. He’s plenty happy to let the locals poke fun at him if it lets him keep this job and investigate the town.
His fingers itch for a pen, but he pushes the urge aside. He’ll have time to interrogate Ben on town folklore later. Maybe he knows a place for breakfast or something.
He jumps in half a second before the music finishes fading out. “Welcome back to King Falls AM, you’re tuned in with us at 660 on the dial. I’m here reaching out for advice from you listeners about what a noob like me should know about your wonderful little town. Dial in at 424-279-3858, or tweet us @KingFallsAM.’”
Ben snorts. “Noob?”
“What?” Jack asks innocently, “I feel like it’s appropriate.”
“We’ve got Finn on Line 7,” Ben says, and Jack falls into his role to welcome him to the show.
They proceed to have an almost one-sided conversation with the excitable truck driver, who’s not even a resident. Things only get interesting after Ben hastily bleeps Finn’s sudden exclamation.
“Finn? You okay there?” Jack asks.
At least they can count on the reply to be immediate. “I’m dandy, but I just saw the biggest light show hullabaloo I ever seen! Looks like that Captain EO laser light show at the Disney!”
“What, like lightning?” Ben asks, looking as confused as Jack feels.
“Hardly! More like one of them fire shows on the Fourth O’ July!”
“Or maybe it’s something like the Brown Mountain Lights?” Jack suggests, but Finn doesn’t seem to hear him.
“It’s still going! The night looks like the day!”
Jack’s already halfway out of his seat. “I’ve got to check this out,” He says, hastily slipping his headphones off and running for the door.
Bright lights aren’t anything close to shadows, but like hell is Jack going to miss this.
He makes it outside and - shit that is bright. He blinks to adjust his eyes from the stark lighting of the station to stare at the distant sky.
It does actually look like some kind of crazy light show. Every color imaginable dances in his vision in a nebulous cloud of brightness that hangs over the trees. It’s like a cluster of stars is shining through an iridescent bubble.
Jack doesn’t know how long he stares until he realizes that he’s not going to get answers just standing there gaping. He runs back in as quick as he left.
He’s still rubbing the spots from his vision as he takes his seat across from Ben again. He interrupts some conversation that he only hears Ben’s floundering half of before putting his headphones back on. “Okay, yeah, that’s not lightning or swamp gas or whatever - I have no idea what that is, but it’s just like Finn said!” He says, heart suddenly pounding with all kinds of things, like excitement and a bit of fear.
“Um, we have a caller for, uh, you, Jack. I think? It’s Line 2.” Ben says, looking a little helpless.
“Is this about the lights? Do you know what they are or what they’re doing?” Jack leans into his mic, muscles tense.
“Oh! Oh, it’s you!” Comes the completely unhelpful reply, “I wasn’t sure at first but now I’m super sure. I’ve definitely, like, heard you somewhere before on some other show or something. Whatever it was, it was really great!”
Jack quickly understands Ben’s pained expression. This guy sounds more than a little tipsy and he’s in no mood to talk to anyone who doesn’t have information.
“Yeah, well, I’ve been doing radio for a while. Doesn’t surprise me. But I’m really not looking for any lost fanboys right now, so I’m going to have to let you go,” He says, finger hovering over the dump button.
“You don’t have to be so mean about it,” The guy whines, then seems to get a sudden burst of inspiration. “Wait wait wait, I think I know now! You were on a lot with Sh-”
Jack hangs up and opens up a random line, ignoring Ben’s curious look as he does so. “Line 1, you’re live with Kings Fall AM. Do you have a good perspective on the lights?”
“Oh! Uh, yeah, I guess I do. I’m seeing them bright and clear. I’m heading home from work out on route 72 and I’m-I’m looking right at the ‘em,” The caller replies, shaky but clear.
“What’s your name, man?” Ben asks in a more subdued voice.
“Oh, sorry, uh, Tim. Tim Jensen,” Tim answers, “But the - the lights, they’re-they’re right out on top of the old mill down off Clower Street. It looks like you’re looking into like, three different suns.”
“Three?” Ben repeats, shooting a questioning look at Jack, who gives a tense shake of his head. They were too far away from the station to make out much.
“You’re our eyes, Tim. What’s happening?” Jack presses.
“Well, there are these, uh, rainbow lights? I-I don’t know what you’d call ‘em. They’re coming from these three triangle shaped thingies.”
“UFOs?” Ben and Jack ask in unison.
“Hey, hey! I did not say the U word, I said Triangle. Shaped. Thingies.”
“W-w-what’re the triangles doing, Tim?” Ben asks, face a little pale.
“They’re just hovering I’d say maybe two or three stories up off the ground. They’ve moved on past the mill now… Wait, hold on a second, I think they’re moving closer to the road.”
A heavy ball of dread drops into Jack’s stomach, breaking through his excited haze. He’s not sure if the noise he’s hearing is the blood roaring in his ears, or - “Be careful, especially if they’re getting closer. I think you should pull over or even turn around.”
Tim doesn’t seem to hear him. “The hell is that thing doing? It just turned the other direction, and-and-and crossed the road. Couple hundred yards ahead. I’m gonna slow down.”
“Tim, please be careful!” Ben interjects, eyes wide and anxious in a familiar way. At this point, Jack’s attention is split in half, but Tim grabs it fully with his next words.
“It just stopped! Right above the road! Wait wait, the lights just changed direction again! It’s definitely heading this way!”
“Turn around, now!” Jack yells, clenching his fists. As if he can keep someone else out of danger by will alone.
“Oh hell, they’re coming fast! Guys!”
“Get out of there, Tim!” Ben nearly shouts.
“They’re-they’re right above me! I-I can’t see! The lights! No! NO-” The word stretches into an incomprehensible scream of terror - then cuts to a dial tone.
The air stays dead for nearly a minute before Ben breaks it by fumbling with his personal phone. “Shit shit shit, I’ve gotta call Troy.”
He doesn’t censor himself, but neither of them is of the mind to do that. Jack listens to him fumble through the call while barely feeling like he’s in his own body.
This town is in more trouble than he had thought.
Suddenly, he has a lot more to worry about.
****
It’s Ben’s idea to visit Mary Jensen.
He calls Jack around noon to suggest it, explaining that Tim has a wife and kids in town that would appreciate the support. Also, they have to submit the tape for evidence before the end of the day, and he thinks she deserves to hear it in person.
It hadn’t crossed Jack’s mind at all that Tim could’ve left people behind, too. He hasn’t thought of anyone else since he left work, breakfast interrogation forgotten. He’s poured over his notes enough times in the past few hours to have them burned into the backs of his eyelids again, searching for any connection at all between the lights and the shadowy voidspace that had nearly engulfed him.
But it didn’t take him, instead it took-
He had filled out nearly three pages with his limited knowledge about the lights (appearance, number, behavior, apparent abilities-) and increasingly wild theories on them (alien ships, sentient rock beings, potential weapons against the Void-). His body had tried to shut down after spending more than twenty-four hours awake (he could’ve gone much longer, before-) but the moment he started to doze he had Sammy’s screams ringing in his ears in place of Tim’s.
He doesn’t even know if it was violent or painful, no proof or clear memory of anything at all except-
Jack agrees to go because he’s scared he’s going to slip again if he doesn’t walk away from this for a little while. And because visiting someone who’s grieving is the polite, small town thing to do and he’s here trying to insert himself into their polite, small town lives.
He’s not prepared for the way he almost breaks when the screen door opens.
Looking at her, Jack can imagine the strong woman she is most days. He can almost see the woman that the town has known and loved long enough to give her what’s at least a week's worth of casseroles from what he can see over her shoulder.
But today isn’t most days. Right now, she just looks tired.
Jack stands silently as Ben introduces him and explains why they’re here. He nods when his name is said but isn’t sure if she really sees him. But her eyes do focus on the tape the moment it’s mentioned, gaze lost and fearful. She pulls a bit of strength from somewhere deep down and agrees, quietly inviting them in.
“Joan’s taken the kids for the day,” She explains, filling the silence as she leads them to the living area. “Which is - it’s probably for the best, seeing as how I’m just barely holding myself together as it is. They don’t - didn’t quite understand when I told them their daddy was gone, but honestly I really don’t either.”
“I could always come over and watch them for an afternoon if you need it,” Ben offers with a gentle smile. “I never see them enough anyway - I think they grow at least two inches between every time I do.”
Mary doesn’t exactly smile at that, but for a moment she looks much less sad. “Thank you. I really appreciate it, Ben.”
They all sit down, Ben and Mary on either end of the couch with Jack in the armchair next to her. Ben places the player on the coffee table and shows her how to start and pause it.
Jack and Ben wait for her to be ready, trying not to stare too obtrusively. But Mary still has eyes only for the tape. She lifts her hands to her face and scrubs it roughly as if trying to stop the tears before they come. Then, she squares her shoulders and presses play.
Ben had set it to start after the first ad. The three of them listen to Finn prattle on until he mentions the lights. Jack listens to his own increasingly forceful voice laden with the fear and guilt that only he can hear.
When it gets to the part where the triangles begin moving closer, Mary stops it. They sit in silence for a couple minutes before she can bring herself to start it again. From there it’s over very quickly.
Jack closes his eyes when Tim screams, but he doesn’t hear him at all.
He opens them when he hears the tape click to a stop. Ben has a hand still hovering over the table while the other gently squeezes Mary’s shoulder. She’s shaking.
While Mary is lost in her grief and Ben offers his support, Jack’s hand drifts up to his chest without conscious thought. He presses his palm through his shirt to feel the ring hanging on the chain underneath. The metal is always warm against his skin, but sometimes, like now, it burns.
For a horrible moment, he is envious of her. For having this proof, for having witnesses to the unexplainable, for having nearly an entire town by her side.
All Jack has is a story about his near-insanity, documented in his own hand, and a missing depressed and anxious fiancé roommate. And a couple cops to tell him that they’ll put a watch out at the morgue.
The emotion leaves with his next breath so that he’s left with only a deep empathy that weighs him down like a sack of rocks. He hasn’t breathed a word this entire visit, but he needs to say - something. To explain that she isn’t the only one missing the love of their life to forces beyond their control and isn’t alone in feeling the unending pain and worry of it.
He can’t use those exact words, but he’ll convey it. Somehow. He has to try.
He lowers his hand and slowly reaches out to touch Mary’s arm. It’s barely a light tap to get her attention, but she turns to face him immediately. Her face is somehow dry, though her eyes are red from the effort.
Part of Jack hopes she’ll understand how much he gets it from the emotion in his eyes. But Mary’s gaze is only confused as she looks helplessly at this silent stranger that came into her home on what’s very possibly the worst day of her life.
Surrendering to the use of words, he manages to say “Mary, I-” before his voice dies. A moment stretches into an eternity for Jack alone as he summons his courage.
Then, he says the words he told Lily before he left and the words he tells himself every day. “He’s still out there, somewhere. He’s alive and you will get him back. You don’t have to understand to believe.”
He’s not prepared for the way she pulls him to her and hugs the breath from his lungs.
She releases him a second later, letting him drop back into his seat. Then she smiles at him, just a bit. It feels like a victory. “Thank you, Jack. I-I needed someone to give me a little faith.”
He nods and smiles back as best he can, happy to have done something for her, however small. Lily had never understood the purpose of blind faith when you have the determination to make it true instead. But those things are not mutually exclusive, and sometimes you need one to have the other.
But he can’t imagine Mary with a notebook like his, obsessing over possible solutions long into the night. Not with her life, not with the kids. He himself can’t put aside his search to take up hers. But she doesn’t need him to do that and he knows she wouldn’t ask him to.
He can do this, though. At the very least, it’s the polite thing to do.