Chapter Text
Dread is becoming a familiar friend for Jamie.
It’s becoming a constant present for her life now. Dread, when she got the call while she was at the concert. Dread, when she was taken home to see a whole squad of police cars and ambulances parked outside. Dread, when she had taken one last look of the covered corpse that used to be her mom.
And now that familiar dread creeps up, heavy and festering, as she stares at the car garage that was supposed to be Tiffany Clark’s murder scene, only to find her not there. No Tiffany and no killer she could stop.
“Tiffany’s supposed to be here.”
She doesn’t even know she’s said it until the boy, who’s shrugging his pants on, looks at her, confused. “What? Is there, like, a schedule or some shit?” He laughs, obnoxious and loud, and the girl beside him giggles with him.
Jamie squeezes the door harshly, glaring at them. She wants to hit them, suddenly, because this was serious, someone’s life was in danger. “Where’s Tiffany?” she snaps, voice harsh.
The boy shrugs. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”
Jamie grits her teeth and turns away from them. A realization washes over her. “Oh my god,” she whispers softly, horrified. “I’ve changed it. I’ve changed the timeline.”
She swallows thickly, hands beginning to tremble. What if Tiffany dies again? What if, because of her changing it, she can’t save Tiffany?
What if Tiffany dies because of her?
Jamie lets out a choking little gasp. She had already been the reason her mom was killed, what would she do if she got one of her mom’s friends killed again? How could she live with herself if she’s the cause of someone else dying?
She lurches forward, desperate, as she races up the stairway to her right, taking staggering steps. “Tiffany?! Tiffany?!” she shouts out. She looks around, panicked, eyes landing on the door closest to her, labeled ‘Parents’ Room, STAY OUT!’ all caps and underlined. She sees a light underneath the door and tries to open it, hearing voices on the other side, only to find it locked.
Her heart starts to pound and she, suddenly and clearly, knows this is the room Tiffany is in. She thinks she can hear her voice, too, on the other side, just out of reach.
“Tiffany?” Jamie calls out, but she doesn’t answer. “Shit.” Her mind comes up with different scenes, Tiffany bloodied and stabbed to death, laying out on the floor or the bed, sprawled out like a grotesque doll.
“Fuck this,” Jamie hisses and raises her leg, kicking the door down with a cry of,
“Tiffany?!”
Jamie bursts through the broken door and staggers to a stop, freezing. The Sweet Sixteen Killer steps from the closet, knife in hand. She's vaguely aware of Tiffany shouting at her angrily but Jamie doesn't pay any attention to her. The killer steps closer and she snaps out of her shock, "Watch out!"
Jamie lunges just as the killer does the same.
Tiffany turns and sees the knife just in time and screams, loud and shrieking, and throws herself to the floor. Jamie tackles the killer and he lets out a grunt of shock, both of them hitting the ground.
He shoves her and Jamie falls, smacking her head against the corner of the desk near her, hissing between her teeth as pain explodes along her forehead, blood leaking from the wound and dripping into her eye.
“Holy shit! Holy fucking shit!” Tiffany continues to scream, wide eyes taking in the killer.
Jamie staggers up as the killer does the same and she positions herself in front of Tiffany. “Stay the fuck away from her,” she growls out, glaring at him.
The Sweet Sixteen Killer tilts his head before stepping towards them, lurching forward and taking a wild swing with the knife. Jamie shoves Tiffany out of the way and throws her arm up, stopping his and throws a punch to his side with her other hand.
He grunts and stumbles backwards before he manages a hit, knocking her in the jaw with his fist. Jamie yelps and tastes blood in her mouth, spitting it out, wiping at her chin, smearing it with the back of her hand.
She takes a small step back before grabbing the nearest thing to her — a small mirror. The killer runs at her before Jamie swings forward, smashing it into his masked face, making him fall backwards across the room, barely keeping on his feet.
“Fuck off and die!” Jamie shouts, unknowingly quoting her mom from earlier.
“Holy shit!”
Jamie pauses and chances a glance over her shoulder to find Tiffany still in shock on the ground, eyes wide as she stares at the killer, who groans lowly in pain. She looks up and sees Pam standing in the doorway, who drops her cup of alcohol onto the floor as she looks around the mess in the bedroom, Tiffany on the floor, Jamie bleeding, and the killer still with his knife.
“What the fuck?” Pam chokes out, eyes wide.
A crowd is behind her and Jamie sees Marisa, Heather, Blake, Randy, Kara, and Lauren standing there with the rest of the party.
The killer takes the time to make a dash for the open window and Jamie surges forward, “Stop!” He makes it outside, falling down to the ground and runs off. Jamie thoughtlessly manuevers herself to jump out of the window and follow him before a hand curls into her jacket, yanking her back into the bedroom. “The fuck?!”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Lauren exclaims, shaking her a bit.
Jamie sputters. “We have to stop him! He’s getting away!” She struggles against her hold, but she’s got a strangely iron grip on her, unrelenting.
“So you were just going to jump out of the window after him?!” Lauren continues to shout at her.
Jamie shoots her an unimpressed look. “Well, yeah.”
“You are currently bleeding all over Tiffany Clark’s bedroom floor, what makes you think you’re in any condition to stop a knife wielding maniac?” Lauren hisses, shaking her again.
“Ugh, stop,” Jamie groans, batting at her hands, though it doesn’t make her release her. “You’re making me dizzy.”
“It’s probably that concussion you’ve now got,” Lauren sasses, pulling her more into the room as if worried Jamie might make a break for the window if she let her go — which, yeah, fair point.
“I’m sorry,” Pam starts, not sounding sorry at all, “but what the fuck just happened?”
“Some freak in a mask just tried to kill me,” Tiffany answers, sinking onto her bed slowly. Her face morphs into something terrified. “Oh my god, someone just tried to kill me.”
Jamie glances at Lauren and then back at Tiffany, who’s started shaking. “Hey, hey, you’re okay,” she tries to soothe, Lauren letting go of her finally to let her make her way towards Tiffany’s side, almost awkward. “It’s going to be okay. You’re alright.”
Tiffany looks up at her, tears in her eyes. “You saved my life,” she chokes out. “I would have— would have—” She makes a strangled noise from the back of her throat and leans forward, dropping her head against Jamie’s stomach, wrapping her in a hug. “Thank you. Thank you.”
Jamie clears her throat awkwardly. “Er, yeah, there, there,” she placates, patting her on the head. “It’s going to be okay.”
She looks up and finds Lauren staring at her, shocked and concerned, still standing in front of the window. She then glances over and finds the crowd watching the scene in various degrees of bewilderment.
And, then, Pam, who stares at her, brows furrowed.
She stares at her like Jamie is a mystery she can’t wait to solve.
__
“Why am I not surprised that you’re here?” Sheriff Lim asks, staring down at her, hands planted on his hips.
Jamie scowls at him, ignoring Lauren’s quiet fussing at the wound on her forehead that’s mostly cleaned up. “I told you,” she snaps. “I told you a killer would show up tonight. You didn’t listen to me.”
The two cops share a glance before scoffing.
“You’re really suspicious, little girl,” the other cop, Brody his name tag reads, points out.
“We should probably take you in for questioning,” Sheriff Lim adds.
Jamie stares at them, astonished. “Are you shitting me? I’m your suspect?” She shakes her head and laughs, shocked. “I just saved someone’s life! Without me, you would’ve had a murder on your hands instead of a break in and assault!”
“Why you—” Brody starts angrily.
“She’s right.” Jamie startles and turns with Lauren to find the Mollys standing close to them, Tiffany staring at the sheriff, tear stained faced and watery eyes. “He was going to kill me. She— she saved my life.”
“It’s true,” comes another voice — Kara, this time, who steps towards them from the other side. “I saw it, dad, the killer was there. Jamie must’ve fought him off long enough for us to get up there. She was going to go after him and stop him.” She coughs a little bit and looks at Jamie, whose mouth drops in shock at the sight of Kara defending her. “It was— it was kinda badass.”
Sheriff Lim stares at his daughter for a long moment before taking a deep breath and sighing. “Fine, you’re off the hook for now, girl,” he says, turning back towards Jamie. “But don’t think I don’t have my eye on you.”
Jamie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, okay.”
She walks away just in time to hear the officers shout for none of them to go back into the house since it was now an investigation area. She tracks around the house out of view of the police, Lauren on her heels.
“What are you doing now?” Lauren asks lowly.
Jamie doesn’t glance at her. “I just want to see something.”
She glances up once and comes to a stop, finding the open window to Tiffany’s bedroom above her. She then looks back down on the ground, crouching low and squinting at the grass. She points at a spot where dark red drips down. “Do you see that?” she asks.
Lauren crouches down beside her. “He was bleeding,” she answers.
“I hit him with a mirror,” Jamie comments. She glances at Lauren, who looks back. “We should keep a look out for someone with a head injury.”
“Like you?” Lauren teases, nudging her in the shoulder.
Jamie scoffs and smiles sarcastically. “Yes, ‘like me’.”
“Why are you weirdos lurking around here?”
Lauren and Jamie startle and whirl around. Jamie places a hand to her chest, taking a deep breath as she finds Pam and the rest of the Mollys in front of her. “Shit, Mom!” she yelps before she continues awkwardly, “…macita. Mamacita. Aye, aye…Mamacita…aye….”
Lauren snorts at her as Pam’s brows slowly raise, unimpressed. Jamie glares over at Lauren before shooting Pam a strained grin. “Uh, anyways, what— what are you doing here?” she stammers out.
“We should be asking you that,” Pam counters, crossing her arms, giving her a look — it was a familiar look, one her mom would give her any time she’s caught Jamie doing something she’s not supposed to be.
It makes Jamie blanch. “Uh.”
“We found blood,” Lauren explains calmly. “The killer was bleeding.”
Tiffany sniffles, seemingly still fighting off tears. “Well, yeah, she did smash my favorite mirror in his freak face.”
Jamie rolls her eyes. “Sorry for breaking a replaceable mirror to save your life,” she remarks.
Tiffany makes a face. Apparently her loyalty crosses the line at breaking her mirrors.
“So, like, why does it matter if he’s bleeding?” Marisa asks, confused.
Jamie straightens up. “Because then we can be on the look out for someone with a head injury.”
“Like you?” Heather asks.
Jamie tosses her arms in the air. “Yes, yes, ‘like me’. Jeez, what’s with you guys and wanting to point it out all the time?”
Pam ignores them in favor of walking towards Jamie and Lauren, glancing down at the ground. She stares at the patch of blood on the grass. “Someone with a head injury, huh?” she murmurs before looking back at the pair. “I think we can help you both out.” She then grins, sharp and poisonous. “But first, you have some explaining to do on how you knew that the killer was going to be at the party tonight to kill Tiffany.”
Jamie and Lauren freeze and glance at each other.
Uh-oh.