Archive of Our Own

“JEFFREY!!” Timothy bellowed up the staircase for the billionth time, “JEFFREY MARWOOD, GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!” 

“He’s not going to listen, man.” BEN points out as he picks at his ‘meal’ through the TV screen. “Jeff doesn’t listen to anyone. How many times are you going to forget this?”
“That boy’s listening problem is what’s gonna get his ass killed..” The proxy retorts in a huff, turning away from the stairs in a way that seemed to show he was --finally-- giving up.

“He’s still new, Tim.” Hoody reminds as Timothy walks past where he sat at the table, his voice deep and crackling because of the voice changer he always wore. “He’ll have that deviate nature, just like everyone else had. Just give him space and it will subside in time. After all,” a slow turn of his head towards the other proxy, stitched-on, lifeless frowning face seeming to glare at the former film student. “You did break his ankle.”

This explanation earns the hooded man another scoff. “Oh, piss off. He was running from us, so I had no choice! Besides, that was months ago. He can walk just fine now.” 

Sighing, Hoody gives a solemn shake of his head at the other, lifting his ski mask up enough so he could eat. A couple more people enter the room then; Jack and Painter. BEN greats the masked creature as he walks by, “Sup, Eyeless? Looking creepy as usual.” The response the cyber-ghost got was a clawed hand to the face, shoving BEN’s upper half all the way back into the TV. 

As the three settled into their respective places at the table, Masky tapped his foot impatiently on the floor. It doesn’t take long before his temper kicks back up, jaw clenching as he lets out a frustrated grunt. “That’s it, I’m-“

“Leave him. It’s not worth the effort.”

“Fuck off, Brian.” While the proxy marches past to get to the stairs again, his comrade reaches into his pocket to retrieve something. From his hood, Hoody pulls out a bottle of pills, which he then shakes. The rattling of pills within makes Tim pause, looking over his shoulder back at Hoody. 

“Let’s try this again; you leave the kid be, or no more of these.” 

“…” Balling his fists momentarily, Masky eventually relents and wordlessly agrees by snatching the orange bottle. As he unscrews the child-proof lock, Masky notices the youngest proxy, Toby, enter the room. “Rogers, go get Joker from his room.”

“Why m-mm-me?” Toby inquires, brows furrowing as he glared at the other man.

“B-b-b- Because I said so!” snapped back the masked man while taking a jab at Toby’s unruly stutter. “Now go.” Not in the mood for an argument, Toby caves and turns back on his heels, going to and up the stairs.

Going up three flights of stairs, Toby finally makes it to the third story of the building. As he strolls down the corridor, he counts the doors along the way. 1..2..3..4..5... Stopping before the sixth door, Toby reaches his arm out to knock. An involuntary jerk of his arm that makes him knock three or four times, all in rapid, rhythmic succession. At the same time, the proxy also made a whistle.

Giving a groan he shakes his head, hand moving to rub at his tired eyes; yet again his tics ruined what he planned to do. ‘ Whatever.. Just get him and go back down.. ’ Toby tells himself inside his head, before he calls out, “Jeff.. Hey, you need to come downstairs.” 

“I’m busy.” 

“.. Busy?” Toby repeats in a voice tinted by confusion. “What do you mean ‘busy’?”

“I’m preoccupied by a task, I’ve got my hands full, I am fucking busy!!”

Toby rolls his eyes, not affected by the hostile, hissing nature of the killer’s voice. Without much thought, the proxy grabs the doorknob and twists, pushing it open to see what exactly the killer was busy with. 

For a moment all Toby can do is stare at the scene before him: Jeff was sitting on the floor, legs crossed with two small, black bowls beside him. One was empty and had a used brush in it, the other still relatively full of something that almost had a tan-brownish color to it. There was also a box nearby him, a folded up piece of paper that was more than likely instructions still inside and untouched. Leaning on the wall in front of Jeffrey was a mirror, cracked with one piece missing. 

What was most eye catching was how Jeffrey’s ebony hair was a bright orange currently. Seriously, it looked like the autumn season was suddenly his hair color. It reminded Toby of a pumpkin. However, the stuff he was currently in the process of painting on seemed to be turning it back to black. 

The two murderers stare at one another in an awkward silence, but eventually Jeff breaks it. He snarled like an angry animal, teeth showing through the Glascow smile in his cheeks as he did so, “The fuck is with you proxies and not knocking??” 

“..You dye your hair?” Toby questioned, completely ignoring Jeff’s own. The way Jeffrey rolls his eyes in response only really be seen on his right, due to the others’ burn damage. 

“Fuck off. Get out.” 

While a part of him kinda wanted to listen and leave whatever he just walked in on, Toby paused once more just as he began to turn away. Jeff was already going back to painting the goop on his hair, though it seemed he was beginning to have trouble with the back of his head. For some reason this image brought back a strange feeling in Toby, like he’s seen someone do this many times before. 

Looking back at the door, Toby contemplated for a moment more before sighing.

‘ This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.. ’

The sound of his door closing echoes, but when Jeff glanced over he was a bit perplexed to see Toby still in the room. Not only that, but he was walking towards him. “What are you doing? I told you to take a hike, dumbass! You’re ruining my process.” 

“Give me that.” Without waiting for a response, Toby reaches down and takes the brush from Jeff’s hand. 

“HEY!” Baring his teeth, Jeff went to stand so that he could take back what was taken; however, Toby just pushed Jeff back down by his shoulder. Momentarily stunned by the reminder of the proxy’s alarming strength, Jeff blinks when he sees a hand grabbing the bowl off the floor. Turning his head to the right, he glares daggers at the man.

“I didn’t ask for your help, proxy-bastard.” 

“Yeah,” Toby says, tone fairly blank as per the usual, “you seem to have trouble with that.” Stirring the dye up in the bowl, Toby reaches for a strand of Jeff’s hair. Feeling this, Jeff quickly whirled his body around and scooted back and away from him.

“I don’t recall letting you put your hands on me, twitchy.” 

“Hey, if you want to g-g-o around looking like a—“ Toby’s head jerks a bit, making a humming/grunting noise in his throat before managing to get words out again, “a—a carrot, be my guest. I’m just trying to help.”

Now, Jeff was used to people being condescending towards him and sometimes even patronizing. A multitude of folks throughout his life did that, even people here who were monsters just like him. But for some reason, maybe the dye fumes are going to his head or something, he couldn’t sense that from Toby. He sounded…genuine? No, that couldn’t be it.. 

While he wasn’t a prick like Masky or aggressive like Jeffrey, Toby wasn’t exactly nice. For the most part the guy was a real loner that barely showed much emotion. The most ‘anger’ you’d see from this guy around the mansion was his sarcasm, or occasionally passive aggressiveness.

Even though he didn’t fully trust that Toby was being honest about his intentions, Jeff really didn’t feel like refusing the offer. His arms ached from how long he’s had them in the air, and he’s sure he’s gotten more of the dye on his hands and neck than his hair from trying to reach it. With a sigh, Jeff gives the proxy one last scowl, “If you try anything funny, I’ll kill you.” before turning around to -begrudgingly- give access to his hair. 

A small sigh leaves Toby, thankful Jeffrey was actually being cooperative. He did understand why the killer didn’t like him. What with Toby, Masky and Hoodie having pretty much kidnapped him and brought him back to its place. But at the same time, he didn’t really mean this guy harm. Well, he wouldn’t be allowed to even if he did. Something about Jeff, something that The Operator had mentioned but Toby couldn’t remember for the life of him, was important.

There was a small area of Jeffrey’s hair unable to grow, the burn stretching down to his left eye. Toby always found himself, even if it was just a tiny part, curious about how Jeff got this scarring. It looked painful; scars aren’t supposed to hurt, that’s what Toby learned. However, Jeff wasn’t exactly the sharing kind of person. He liked keeping to himself, especially details of his past. 

As he takes a partially painted section, Toby’s arm jerks as he whistles, his opposite’s hand snaps its fingers. Jeff hissed as his hair was tugged during this process, “Ow!” 

“F-fuck me,” an involuntary curse leaves the proxy. He clears his throat, “Sorry.” 

Jeffrey mutters to himself, “I’m going to regret this..” while cracking his knuckles to try and stem off the urge to get back at Rogers for the hair pulling. 

Taking the brush from the bowl, Toby begins to paint the dye onto Jeff’s hair. Silence reigns for the time being, only interrupted by Toby’s occasional tics of whistles, curses/repeating phrases, or grunts. The two killers didn’t seem interested in conversation at the moment, or maybe neither were sure what to even say. After all, not either of them were exceptionally known for their social skills. Rather, their lack thereof. 

That strange feeling from earlier was back, even more so now that Toby was actively assisting in the dyeing process. It was strange…like he’s lived through this, or rather done this to someone else before Jeff. But he couldn’t recall who or when this had been.. Ever since that night, Toby’s memories have been foggy at best. Sometimes he wishes he could remember, but maybe it’s best if he remains in the dark.

Becoming deep in his thoughts concerning his past, Toby quickly shakes himself out of it. ‘ Don’t think about that, about them.. ’ Distraction, he needed a distraction. Clearing his throat, he manages to inquire, “S-so, how long have you been —f-fuck a cunt—d-dyeing your hair?”

“Since I was fifteen.” Jeff answers, surprising Toby since he had not been completely sure the killer was even going to give him a reply. Toby goes to another section of hair, but has to take a moment as one of his hands ball up and pound against his chest.
“Yeah? Always chosen black?” 

Jeff makes a hum of confirmation, “Looks good on me.” For a moment he pauses, wanting to mention words that sit on his tongue; however he hesitates as he wonders if he should even bother.

“My brother thought so, too.” 

Toby pauses, “You have a brother?”

Jeff quickly corrects the proxy, “ Had .” Just as fast as he had brought it up, it seemed Jeffrey was shutting down the topic of family. He didn’t seem to like talking about family in general.

Quiet for a moment, Toby takes a section of bleached hair and begins to add more dye onto it.

“..I had a sister.” 

Sighing heavily, Jeff licks at his lips. This was a habit he developed after having the smile carved into his cheeks. “Can we not turn this into a therapy session?” 

“Yeah, no, that’s f-f—fucking you, bloody fucker—f-fine. Uhm,” Toby chews on his inner lip, trying to think about what else they could talk about. “Do you dye your hair for a reason?”

“I kept getting stared at because of its natural color.”

Giving a short grunt a whistle, Toby continues, “What was wrong with your hair color? You a ginger or something?”
A dry laugh leaves the forever-smiling killer, “Haha. No, I'm albino.” 

Patting down the second layer of tin foil, Toby moves to the bowl and picks it up. “Tha—That would explain your red eyes I guess.. But--” Another series of tics as he mixes the contents of the bowl again, “—mix-a, mix-a, mix-a!—but I-I thought albinos having red eyes was a myth.”

“It is, at least to some degree. My eyes were this really pale blue before my accident.” 

“Your accident?”
Before he can question this more, Jeff quickly adds on, “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Alright.” Another section down, moving onto the next. Jeffrey had gotten the majority of it done himself, so it wouldn’t take much more time before Toby finished up. “..Did it have to do with your burn?”

“What part of ‘ I don’t want to talk about it ’ did you not understand?” 

“Fine fine,” Toby huffs, the exhale almost sounding amused. “You know, you don’t have to be self conscious about that. I’ve seen worse before.”

Scoffing at the idea, Jeff retorts with, “I’m not self conscious. I look better than half the fuckers in this place.” 

“Oh, really?” At this, the proxy actually chuckles.

“I must be. Why else would almost everyone here hide their faces?” 

Giving another chuckle, Toby shakes his head as he places another piece of foil over the newly painted strands. “You’re real cocky, you know that?” 

“So I’ve been told.” For a few moments Jeff stares at the floorboard before him, letting his mind wonder. “How come you hide your face, huh? You all bug-eyed or something? Is that why you wear those goggles?” 

Toby doesn’t respond right away, instead focusing on the current section of hair till he finishes. Once he does, he puts the brush aside and makes a coo coo clock--sounding whistle before removing his goggles from his face. He drops them to the floor in front of Jeffrey, gaining the younger murderer’s attention. Turning his head, Jeff looks up at the proxy, seeing his eyes for the first time: they were a rich amber color, a tired look permanently gracing them thanks to the sleepless bags. 

For a moment the killer doesn’t speak, his emotion and overall reaction hard to decipher. That carved smile of his always made it hard to understand what all went on inside Jeffrey’s head. And if his tone was lackluster and monotone, that made things worse. After a moment more he turns away, reaching out for Toby’s goggles.

Tobias had half a mind to take them back, not trusting Jeff to resist the urge to break them. However, to his own surprise, Jeff just seems to examine them. 

“Well, at least I know you’re human.” 

“What makes you think I wasn’t?” Toby questions, laughing slightly as he uses what little is left for the final piece of hair.

“I don’t know, man. Why else would you always be wearing these,” he gestures with the goggles in his hand, “and that mask all the time?”

“Because I like them. It protects my face during mission work.” 

“Yeah yeah, sure. Gotta protect the money maker, huh pretty boy?”

Laying the final piece of foil over top of the other, Toby cannot help but smirk to himself because of Jeffrey’s comment.
“You think I’m pretty, then?” 

It takes a few moments for the question to settle in, but when it does Jeff realized the mistake in his earlier wording. “I meant that…like, you’re not trying to get your face messed up. You’re just protecting it.” 

“Relax, man. I get what you meant. I’m just teasing.” 

The killer lets out a groan, a bit irked that the proxy was messing with him; Jeff wasn’t always quick to pick up on stuff like teasing. “God, you’re just as bad as Liu..”

“L-Liu? Who’s Liu?”

Jeff feels his heart sink, stomach twisting in a knot. Letting out a deep sigh, Jeff flips the goggles around to look at the other side as he contemplates whether or not he should answer. It really wasn’t any of his business knowing jack about Jeffrey’s old life. Then again, that was in the past and it wasn’t like it could come back to haunt him now. He had enough real life ghosts and goblins surrounding him nowadays. 

“He was my older brother.” 

Judging by his tone, Toby could sense that this was a particularly sensitive topic for Jeff. Knowing he himself wasn’t one who really liked to dwell on or really discuss his own past, or what he could remember of it, Toby didn’t want to inquire further. After all, things at the moment were somewhat calm, Toby didn’t want to risk ruining it by asking unwanted questions. 

As he looks at Jeffrey’s hair, Toby gets the feeling again; déjà vu. Everything seems to change then, the bedroom morphing into a vaguely familiar bathroom. Toby was still standing behind someone, but it was no longer Jeff as it seemed to be a girl who was also dying her hair. She looks over her shoulder at Toby and smiles. 

“Thank you for the help, Toby. I can always count on you.”

‘ Lyra.. ’ 

Momentarily stunned, Toby becomes lost in thought before he hears his name being called out again. “Toby? Toby, you alright?” Blinking his amber eyes, Toby’s mind returns to reality, seeing that he was back in Jeff’s bedroom. 

Slowly, the proxy gives a nod, “Y-yeah…I’m alright.” He clears his throat, cracking his knuckles. While he raised a brow at this, Jeffrey had begun growing accustomed to the odd behaviors in this place. This included sporadic switches in personalities, which Toby was kinda known for. All the proxies were, to an extent. Since he didn’t find much point in commenting on the change, Jeff remains quiet on this.

Shifting where he was on the bed, Jeff moves so he wasn’t on the edge and his back wasn’t facing Toby. He couldn’t see him due to his bad eye’s peripheral vision being nonexistent. Still, it felt safer not having his back to the man.

“I’m supposing you want a ‘thank you’?” He inquires, tone blunt and mocking in a way.

Toby shakes his head, “We both know you wouldn’t give me one even if I did.” The carved smile on the side of Jeff’s face facing him grows a bit, the muscle of his cheek pulling as a momentary grin shows.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

It was odd hearing this from Jeff, as he never seemed to be able to admit when others were right. Like he could never allow someone to be right about anything; he always had to know everything. Not surprisingly, given his own track record of being a cocky bastard at times, Toby didn’t mind this observation one bit.

“I am right, huh?” Toby responded with a slight laugh to his words.

“I wouldn’t have said it if you weren’t.”

“It’s just… Wow, you actually said that. I never thought you had the ability to say anything positive about someone else.” Toby knew he was on a thin line right now, given that the younger killer never seemed to take being teased. Either he didn’t understand teasing or just didn’t like it, the real reason was unclear and Jeff would never admit the truth. Even so, the proxy couldn’t help himself but to test his luck. So far, he had been very lucky in his interactions with this guy.

Jeff gives a roll off his eyes, head moving slightly at the same time as the gesture. “Be grateful. It’ll probably never happen again.” Rising from the bed, Jeff rolls his shoulders back to loosen them.
“What are you doing?”
“Going to wash this out of my hair.” He replies, “I don’t think I’ll need help with this.”

He didn’t know why, but Toby gave a light snort at this. As he too rises from the bed, he follows Jeffrey out of the room to stand off on the right side of the threshold. Meanwhile, Jeff was turning to go in the opposite direction. 

“You’re st-st-ill not going to come downstairs, I take it?” Toby questions. Really, he didn’t care what Jeff chose to do. He couldn’t blame the guy for always avoiding the others in the house. Many of them had very douchey personalities--Well, really everyone here was like that. Misery loves company is a common saying, though it isn’t true in this manor house. Misery loves solitude seems more fitting. 

Not surprisingly, Jeff shakes his head. “Nah, I’ve got my own shit to deal with right now.” Mid-step, Jeff suddenly paused and turned his head to look over his shoulder. “Just tell that pushy bastard I gave you a hard time or something, that you couldn’t convince me. Hey, I could punch you to make it believable.”

The proxy shakes his head and hand in refusal, “Hard pass.”
Shrugging, Jeff turns back around, “Eh, wouldn’t be that much fun anyway.” Truly, the only thing that kept Jeff from bothering Toby much whenever they ever crossed paths was the fact that the proxy couldn’t feel pain. Like he said, it took much of the fun on Jeff’s behalf away. 

Knowing this already, Toby doesn’t give much thought or reaction to Jeff’s comment apart from, “I know, it’s t-t-terrible for you that I can’t feel any-y-y--thing, huh?”
“Yup. Sucks.” Though it more than likely wasn’t Jeff’s intention to sound humorous, his bluntness still succeeds somehow in making the older killer chuckle. Toby didn’t know why he laughed at this, as he probably shouldn’t since he feels like he’s encouraging Jeff’s sadistic behavior. But nevertheless, he did. He laughed and it’s probably the only time he’s done so in a long time. 

“Whatever.. I’ll see you around.”
“Unfortunately, you will.” With that, Jeffrey disappears into the shadowy areas of the hallway. Toby goes his own separate route, stepping down the creaky stairs all the way back down to the ground level. 

BEN is the first to greet him, still picking at the ‘food’ on his plate. “No luck?”
“No, he was being a hardass so I gave up.” Toby shakes his head, pulling out and taking his seat at the table. His voice was back to its usual monotone state, which he seamlessly transitioned back into despite having just been in an okay mood moments before. 

“We didn’t hear anything for awhile, so we were starting to think Jeffrey may have killed you.” Helen mentions. While he doesn’t give a response, Toby gives a glower that was hidden behind his mask. He kinda expected that no one would do anything even if it were thought he was being killed. 

All is quiet for a few minutes, people/ghouls/demons chewing at the food on their plates. Out of either boredom or actual curiosity, BEN pulls further out of the TV so he could lean closer to Toby. “So,” he drawls, propping his elbow on the back of the proxy’s chair so he could rest his chin in his palm, “what all did happen?”

“We fought. That’s it.”
“Really? I mean, not that I don’t believe ya, I know Jeff’s a confrontational guy. But he usually gets…well, loud . I didn’t hear anything until you came back down the stairs.” 

Scoffing softly under his breath, Toby’s head gives a small twitch as his shoulder jerks, the sudden movement making BEN move his arm off the chair. “M-maybe you should just mind your own da-d-damn business. You don’t need to know everything that goes on.”

Instead of backing off like Toby would’ve hoped, BEN just got that stupid, eerie smirk on his glitchy face. “Relax, man. Geez, you’re acting like you two did something…” BEN paused, looking for a moment like he was rebuffering. Without much warning, the cyber-ghoul’s jaw drops as he gawks at the proxy. “Holy shit, man.. Don’t tell me you two--”

“Wha-whatever you’ve got in your head, no . It’s n-nothing like that.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Timothy questions, eyes narrowed in bewilderment at the scene he was watching before him.
BEN went to speak, “Tob--” but didn’t get much farther than that before the brown haired boy shoves the ghost back into the TV with a hand to his face. Before BEN could come back through, Toby shuts the TV off and unplugs it for good measure. No one says a word, though a few that felt confused-concern glance between the youngest proxy and the powered off television. 

Eventually, everything returns to how it was moments ago; clattering of utensils and light chatter between certain individuals. “Everything alright?” Natalie inquires softly, leaning closer so her words were only audible to Toby. “You seemed peeved for a moment there.” Casting a glance to the girl with the clock for an eye, before he looks back down to his plate.

“I’m fine. He’s just too nosy for his own good.”
Clockwork gives a knowing nod and chuckle, “Yeah, I know it.” A couple seconds pass as she thinks about how to word her next question. “.. But is everything okay? Like, with Jeff and you.”

“What do you mean?”
“I mean, did you two have a bad fight? Are either of you hurt or anything? Did either of you stab the other?”
“What?? N-no, Jesus christ, everything is fine..!” Responds the man, a bit taken aback by the barrage of questions. Seriously, if people thought it had gone that far, why not go and check up on them?? 

Taking a quick look over to Tim, Toby finds he was busy discussing something with Jack; probably was Tim doing most of the discussing though, as Jack doesn’t really talk much. Continuing on, Toby makes his voice a tad lower so only Clockwork hears his next sentence, “He just didn’t want to come out, so I didn’t make him.” 

“Oh.. Oh! That was actually sweet of you.” Face scrunching at the idea, Tobias quickly shakes his head in refusal. “No, I j-j--” Toby has to take a moment as he grunts and clears his throat. Sighing, he continues, “I just gave up trying to convince him.” “You could’ve forced him, but you didn’t!” She points out, a smile slowly growing across her face. Rolling his eyes, Toby turns his head back to the table to signal he was ending the conversation. Natalie doesn’t push it, returning to her own plate and giving the other killer his space.

Twirling a utensil between his black-stained fingertips, staring at them as he chews on his inner lip. For a moment his goggle-covered amber eyes turn towards the staircase, watching it for a few minutes. While he didn’t comprehend why, he kept thinking about the time he spent in Jeffrey’s room. Maybe his brain pondered over it so much because it was really one of the first tranquil moments he’s had in a long time. Despite Jeffrey being someone known to change up moods on a whim, he had been oddly…calm while Toby was around him. 

Perhaps this was only going to be a one time thing. By this time tomorrow they’d be back at each other’s throats or completely avoiding one another. He was certain in his hypothesis, but still only time could tell if this would be the case.