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It didn’t make sense. It just didn’t make any damn sense, and the more Sam Park thought about it the less sense it made. People don’t just disappear, there is always something left behind, however small. People always left a trace, always.
So why hadn’t Jake?
Sam’s wife tried to keep him level in the months after Jake had gone missing, Dayo was an angel and Sam was blessed to have her, he owed her his life and his sanity a thousand times over and did his best to take time to treasure her the way she deserved. But she was right that his timelines and spreadsheets and piles of police reports were beginning to look more and more like a conspiracy board, and she was probably right to be worried about it. Well, maybe he wouldn’t need a goddamn conspiracy board if his brother could have avoided making things complicated for once in his life. Maybe if Jake had just disappeared like a normal person, if his disappearance made even a shred of sense, if he’d just left a single fucking trace-
Sam had long grown used to the roil of emotions that had become his constant companion this past year. The rage in his heart had been suppressed his whole life, pushed down by duty and family and constantly making himself busy, but as the months passed and Jake was still not found, the rage had grown more and more difficult to ignore, until it threatened to overwhelm him. It hadn’t boiled over until Father had given up the search after the barest minimum of effort, and no matter how Sam raged and spat and shouted, he coldly refused to even acknowledge that Jake had existed, let alone devote any more time or effort to finding him. On top of that, the police were useless, worse than useless, in a way that made Sam’s blood boil. They brushed off the complete vanishing of a human being as just a rich kid getting lost in the woods. They didn’t know Jake. No one who actually knew Jake would believe such a ridiculous story, it was why their father was so eager to wash his hands of this, and why Sam and his mother were left unsatisfied and empty. Sam’s brother was a little overconfident at times, but he wasn’t brazen, and he was certainly not foolish. He knew those woods like the back of his hand, and he knew how dangerous they could be, he wouldn’t have simply gotten lost.
Jacob Park was more careful than that.
Their father had immediately lost Sam’s respect when he decided to be a piece of shit about the whole thing, doubling down on Sam’s ‘irrational’ anger and ignoring his grieving wife as if they were the ones being unreasonable for not immediately getting over Jake’s disappearance, and Sam wanted to scream at how little he cared that his youngest son was gone, only caring that his wife no longer smiled in pictures and his formerly obedient eldest was growing more and more public with his disrespect. The fucker had the gall to act surprised at Sam’s blatant disregard, as if he couldn’t fathom why Sam had grown so cold and spiteful after his blatant dismissal of Jake.
But as tempting as it was, he couldn’t lay all the blame on their father. Sam would be the first to admit that he hadn’t always been the best big brother, too focused on getting ahead and pleasing their father to stop and check in with his moody loner of a sibling, no good at any of the things big brothers were supposed to be good at. But at least he cared. At least he loved his little brother with every fiber of his being and wouldn’t abandon him to the unknown. It showed in the way Jake gave away every ‘gift’ their father gave him, while still wearing the scarf Sam had picked out for him every day even years later.
It felt at times that the only people in the world Sam had on his side were his mother and his wife, and despite both of them being amazing in their own ways, they had no more solutions than Sam did. He couldn’t believe it had taken Jake’s disappearance for him to finally wise up to what his brother had been saying all along, that their father was a cruel, heartless man who wouldn’t piss on them if they were on fire. Sam may have been… not the best big brother at times, but at least when Jake talked, he listened. At least when Jake needed help, Sam was there no matter what, even when Jake didn’t want his awkward, hovering help. Especially when Jake didn’t want it, stubborn little jackass.
It was a cycle with them, Sam trying in his own way to show his care and Jake seeing it as condescension, a question of his ability to take care of his own problems. Jake vented about his terrible coworkers, but then grew incensed when Sam pulled strings to have them removed. Jake broke his leg putting a baby bird back in its nest, but acted like a hissing cat when Sam took time off to care for him. Jake cried his heart out when his boyfriend turned out to be a cheating bastard, but then seemed so surprised when Sam got the man arrested on a not-so-false embezzlement charge. It was baffling and maddening in equal measure, Sam never really knowing what Jake wanted or how to get the stubborn kid to accept his help, to realize that his help came from a place of love and would have no strings attached, no conditions, no expectations.
God, he missed Jake. He missed his weird moody little brother who overtipped the servants and snuck animals into the house right under Father’s nose, who gave all his money to charity and befriended birds like a more badass Snow White. He missed Jake’s unpredictable schedule and the stubborn way he insisted on working so as to not rely on Father, the way he’d snap at Sam that throwing money at his problems wouldn’t make them go away, the way he never needed anyone and took everything life threw at him with a baring of teeth. Growing up Sam had been envious of Jake, jealous of his good looks and independence and his easy way of making people want to follow him. Jake was a better dancer, a better diplomat, a better person than Sam could ever hope to be. But despite that jealousy, Sam still loved him, still protected him as best he could and tried to be there for him when Father’s expectations became too much. His petty insecurities were not Jake’s fault, so to resent him for it would make him no better than Father. Envy was easy to work through if you loved the person enough.
It was always worth it when he saw the affection in Jake’s eyes, the proof that he’d done right by him, that despite all their arguments and disagreements they still had each other. Jake loved him, and that was a far more meaningful achievement than anything Sam had accomplished in his life. Even if he was a self-admitted bad big brother at times.
It wasn’t from lack of trying, he just didn’t know how to connect with Jake at times, didn’t know how to protect him any way except from afar. As angry as Sam got at times, he was a piss-poor fighter and hadn’t the head for getting into scraps, and it was embarrassing to have his little brother always protecting him, embarrassing to be weaker and softer than his baby brother of five years. Still, he’d admired Jake’s fighting spirit, the way he could take hit after hit with barely a grunt and still ask Sam if he was alright afterwards. There had even been talk between them of Sam hiring Jake as a personal bodyguard before the blowup that drove Jake into the wilderness. The one time Sam had tried to fight for Jake, he’d landed himself in the hospital and gotten such a scathing lecture from a furious Jake that he’d caved and promised to never do it again.
Jake was a fighter, a survivor, and Sam… wasn’t. He couldn’t leap into fights to defend his honor, couldn’t speak up against Father’s unfair treatment of him, hell he couldn’t even find him after even a solid year of searching. All he knew how to do was offer awkward advice and to try and chase Jake’s problems away with money. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, if Jake ever accepted any of it. Jake’s disdain for their lifestyle had begun early, and Sam had written it off as adolescent rebellion right up until the day Jake stormed from Father’s office shouting that he was leaving, and no amount of Sam’s plying, no fury from Father and begging from Mother, would change his mind.
He’d visited Jake’s little cabin several times after the incident, and he’d been impressed at the cozy little home he’d carved for himself in the isolation of the wild, hints of their mother in the way he kept a clean house. When the world became too much and Sam felt like crawling out of his skin, he could retreat to Jake’s cabin for a day and let the peaceful beauty of the forest and the comfort of Jake’s quiet presence drain his stress away. Jake had calmed down immensely once he was free from the trappings of their life, and it did Sam’s heart good to see the line of his shoulders relaxed for a change, his eyes warm and easygoing in a way he almost never got to see under their father’s thumb. He would smile when he caught sight of Sam trudging up the handmade path, even darting forward and pulling him into a hug if he was in a good mood, and that more than anything made it all worth it in Sam’s mind as he opened his arms to receive him with a bright laugh.
As long as Jake was happy, then Sam could handle him being a world away. Even if he drove himself mad at times imagining all the horrible things that could befall his little brother out there in the dark.
In his absence Sam had learned that while Jake’s anger was a simmering thing, enduring blow after blow until he physically couldn’t anymore, Sam’s fury was white hot and spiteful. Jake would be downright gleeful if he could see how Sam had changed this past year. He’d cackle at the way he actually spoke out against their father now, grin at how red the old man’s face got when Sam called him an honorless asshole. He’d have loved to see Sam making eye contact with father at a big important dinner before turning to the person beside him and starting to brag about his amazing survivalist brother and how independent and skilled he was, how he’d sometimes hunt a dinner for the two of them to share all by himself, and it was better than any restaurant because it was made with love.
Jake would love it, but Jake wasn’t here, and because of that Sam’s newfound rebellion felt empty. His days were spent barely paying attention to his work and his nights were spent lying awake imagining all the terrible things that could be happening to his baby brother while he laid with his wife on silk sheets. Dayo did everything she could to ease his mind, but while she and Jake had gotten along wonderfully, she hadn’t been as close to him as Sam was. She was an only child, and even admitted that she couldn’t begin to understand how Sam was feeling, the frantic worry that had become background noise for him. It tormented him, the idea of Jake being hurt or worse while Sam ran around in circles looking in all the wrong places. Anything could be happening to him right now, he could be hurt or scared or dying or already…
Sam had a dream one humid night. In it he’d been standing in a dark wood in the dead of night, the burned out husk of a ruined building cutting across the landscape like some great jagged scar. He’d been frozen in place, his legs feeling heavy and leaden, but he didn’t have time to be afraid before a loud crash grabbed his attention. His gaze was drawn to the building just as two people sprinted out of it as if the devil himself was on their heels, a man and a woman looking fearful. He couldn’t quite make out the woman’s face, but it only took a single glance for him to know who the man was, and his breath caught in his throat as a wave of emotion threatened to take him to his knees.
Jake looked exhausted, hollowed out and frightened in a way that made Sam want to pull him close and lay waste to whatever had put that hunted look in his brother’s eyes. There was a slash of red across his stomach that made Sam’s hackles raise, and his arm was held at an odd angle that hinted at a break. Despite all of that, his traitorous heart had still lifted to see Jake’s face after so long, but any attempt to call his brother’s name died in his throat no matter how hard he tried, and trying to run to him only made his legs heavier. He couldn’t move, couldn’t make a sound, and couldn’t do a thing when a hulking beast of a man emerged from the building behind them, holding a bloodied monstrosity of a blade in a relaxed grip as he stalked after them, as if he had all the time in the world.
He caught up to them easily.
Sam watched with a scream trapped in his throat as the monster slashed at Jake, barely missing as Jake dodged at the last second. They got a few more feet before the monster got the woman in the leg with a lucky swipe, and she stumbled with a cry of pain as the monster reached out as if to grab her. Sam’s heart quailed in his chest as his brave little brother, despite a broken arm and a wounded abdomen, darted around to slam a heavy wooden pallet down on the monster’s head, shouting for the woman to run. She did, and Sam felt a spark of utter fury at her cowardice as she bolted off and left his brother alone with a madman that recovered from the blow far quicker than he should have.
Sam was forced to stand there and watch as Jake tried to run, dark eyes wide and fearful as the man grabbed him easily by the throat. He had to watch helplessly as this madman dug his blade into Jake’s torso, earning the first sound of pain he’d heard from Jake in years. He had to stand quietly by, raging in his head, as his little brother let out a cry of denial and hopelessness as blood erupted from his mouth. Sam’s rage made him feel weightless and separated from himself as the monster hefted Jake’s battered form onto his shoulder, and through his fury and horror he saw that his fierce little brother still had the strength to fight, however weakly. But any pride Sam may have felt sputtered and died when he saw what the bastard was carrying Jake towards, and his worst fears were realized as they stopped in front of a rusty meat hook that had no business looking so ominous.
“You son of a bitch, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you-“ Jake half-snarled half-sobbed, kicking weakly as the monster lifted him up. Sam felt tears streaming down his face as his little brother was forced down onto the dull hook, the rusted tip piercing his shoulder in a way that made Sam want to throw up. Jake’s heart wrenching scream clawed into Sam’s mind like nails on a chalkboard, the sound sinking into his bones and setting his blood aflame with a fury he hadn’t felt since adolescence. He wanted to kill the monster that did this, wanted to throw himself at Jake’s attacker and sink his teeth into his jugular until he died choking on his own blood. He wanted to find the woman who’d allowed Jake to be captured and hang her on the fucking hook to see how she liked it, so she could suffer the way Jake was.
Oh, a voice whispered, indistinguishable from the creaking boughs of the trees, You have potential…
Unaware of his audience, the monster simply walked away from Jake’s weakly struggling form after a moment of standing there, admiring his fucking work, like Jake was nothing, like Sam’s baby brother was nothing-
Sam had never felt such an intense desire to kill before, and a dark fog began to gather at his leaden feet as the bloodlust threatened to consume him, Jake’s anguished attempts to stifle his sounds of pain fueling the fire in Sam’s heart. All his life he’d been weak, having to rely on his little brother to fight his battles for him while he clutched at his jacket like a child. Jake took blow after blow for him, never once complaining, never once resenting him, and it wasn’t fair.
Why should he suffer? Why should he, when I can give you the power to protect him? that creaky voice whispered, but Sam paid it no mind, refusing to tear his eyes away from Jake’s weakly struggling form. God, even now he refused to give up, fighting even in the face of such horror. That iron will of his made tears spring to Sam’s eyes, the urge to kill subsiding somewhat, replaced by the need to get to his brother and keep him safe.
You can. The voice was beginning to grow annoying, seeming irritated that his bloodlust was being overtaken by the need to protect Jake. If your money cannot protect him, then perhaps violence may.
Sam’s eyes remained locked on Jake as he struggled uselessly, growing weaker as more and more of his blood dripped to the ground below, soaking the soil with proof of Jake’s suffering, proof of Sam’s failure as an older brother.
Come to me, and you may slay any who abandon him.
There was a sound like a death rattle, and Jake let out a desperate sob, shaking his head as if he knew what was coming. Sam watched as a jerking, rasping monstrosity unfurled from behind the hook, long segmented limbs twitching and shaking as if in excitement, it’s movements so erratic and unnatural that it made Sam feel physically ill.
Come to me, and you will always know where to find him.
They curled around Jake like the legs of some terrible spider, hovering like an owl over a mouse before suddenly surging towards him. Jake, brave tough incredible Jake, managed to grab the biggest leg just before it plunged into his chest, holding it at bay despite the clear agony it was causing him. How could Father look at this boy and not see how incredible he was? How could anyone not be in awe of his sheer force of will?
I can give him back to you.
But in the end, Jake was only human, and he eventually lost the battle as his weakened body finally failed him. Tears streamed from Sam’s eyes as the spider legs pierced Jake’s body one after the other, skewering him like a pinned butterfly as Jake wailed in agony, the sound digging into Sam’s heart like a blade of ice as a ragged scream finally escaped his throat.
Come to me
Sam had woken with Jake’s agonized scream ringing in his ears, mixing with Sam’s own, and it had taken his wife an hour to calm him down. He’d clung to her, trembling and sobbing until his throat was raw, the memory of Jake’s cries blocking out Dayo’s soothing words as he forced himself not to throw up, his sobs interspersed with raw gasps of his brother’s name.
He knew logically that it was only a dream, his worry for his brother manifesting worst-case scenarios for him to obsess over, but despite knowing that, his search for Jake only grew more desperate. Jake was most certainly not being killed by a spider monster or anything like that, but the very idea that he was being hurt somehow was enough to add a touch of desperation to his search. His wealth, his image, none of it mattered as much as finding his brother. What good was his money if he couldn’t use it to find Jake? What good were his connections if they couldn’t be put to use for something worthwhile? He didn’t care what his father said, and he certainly didn’t care what the tabloids had to say. Jake was out there somewhere, and he needed his big brother. Sam wouldn’t give up hope, not until he’d exhausted every single resource he had. After that, he could search on foot. He’d honestly expected to be alone in his search, but he should have known not to doubt the people he loved. Dayo, disturbed by Sam’s dream, used her FBI connections to forcibly reopen Jake’s case, and it was her insistence on handling it personally that brought an unexpected bread crumb trail to their attention.
Megan Thomas. Dwight Fairfield. Claudette Morel. Jacob Park. Four people missing in the same woods in the span of four years, leaving not a single trace. It couldn’t be a coincidence, and Sam felt a spark of that now-familiar fury at the negligent way the disappearances were handled, as if something in those woods made the authorities reluctant to pursue the mystery.
Rip to them, but Sam was different. He wouldn’t let Jake fade away.
Finding the contact info for Ms. Thomas was easy, and the grieving woman was more than happy to lend her help, driven and stubborn despite her lingering illness. She’d broken into tears at Sam’s call, grateful for someone finally taking an interest in helping her find her lost daughter. Her job as a forest ranger was what allowed them to narrow down the search area to a few thousand acres rather than the entirety of the massive forest, and her calm spirit was imperative for keeping Sam from spiraling whenever thoughts of Jake in danger threatened to overwhelm him.
Dwight Fairfield turned out to have a loving family that still went into the woods to search for him whenever they could, and his grieving, beaten down parents also broke down into tears when Sam expressed interest in helping them find their son. Fairfield’s two little sisters, despite having only recently become adults, demanded to be a part of the search as well. They were a headstrong and fierce pair of twins, and they had never forgiven the police for dropping Dwight’s case, nor the people who had abandoned their gentle scaredy-cat big brother alone in the woods. It was them who managed to harass the police into turning over the evidence for the missing people, and the sight of Jake’s favorite scarf lying between a cracked pair of glasses and a torn scrap of pink fabric nearly broke Sam, his pride saved only by Dayo’s calming presence. He tried not to think about the dark glint in the eyes of the Fairfield girls as their hands cradled the glasses like a museum artefact, certain if he looked in a mirror he’d see the same look reflected in his own gaze.
The Morels were a lovely couple, albeit a bit trickier to track down due to their reclusive nature, and their suspicions at the motives of a random rich man contacting them were dispersed when he and the others confided in them that they too had lost a loved one to those woods. Mrs. Morel insisted on having them all over for dinner, and though her eyes had filled with tears when he’d presented the evidence to her, her trembling hands cradling the pink fabric almost reverently, her face spoke of nothing but determination as her husband assured him that they’d find Claudette and the others, no matter the cost.
“If I know my Claudie, she’s shaking like a leaf but still trying to help everyone around her.” he assured them, “If they’re together, your dear ones couldn’t be in safer hands.”
But it was Sam’s mother that surprised him the most. The woman had spent her life standing quietly by their whole lives as their father did as he pleased, comforting them in the aftermath but never directly going against her husband. When Jake went missing, she’d grieved alongside Sam but didn’t openly challenge the police when they dropped the case, unwilling to anger her husband when he was so determined to pretend Jake had never existed. Sam had expected her to try and stop Sam like Father had, to try and talk him out of a quest that was surely fruitless. Yet, to his surprise, all he had to do was ask for her help and she was there. She still would not directly disobey her husband, but her subtle assistance was invaluable. The skillful way she wrapped the journalists around her fingers, taking the sad tale of a vain waste of resources and spinning it into a heart wrenching story of the perseverance of love, was likely the only thing that kept Sam’s father from taking action against the search. Sam was so grateful, and he knew Jake would be pleasantly surprised at even a hint of backbone from her.
He couldn’t help but hope that Jake would be proud of him too, rallying the troops and helping people the world had forgotten, all in the name of bringing Jake home. When he got him back (because he would get him back) he’d absolutely be exercising his big brother privileges and bragging about this forever.
But first he had to find him. If Jake was out there, if any of the missing people were out there, Sam would track them down and bring them home. Come hell or high water, he’d find out what happened to his little brother. He’d find Jake and rescue him from whatever had befallen him, he’d hold him close and keep him safe and he’d destroy whoever or whatever dared take Jake and the others away from the people who loved them.
It was high time he started acting like a proper big brother.