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Chapter Text

Amy Sims married the love of her life at eighteen years old. While many saw it as a rushed act of foolishness on their part, Amy knew that she was meant to be Elias Bouchard's wife.

The two were absolutely smitten with each other, only dating three years and deciding that they needed to be wed at soon as they were legally allowed. Amy and Elias just clicked. He knew the solution to every situation that presented itself between them. Like how when she'd had a bad day, all he needed to do was make her a cup of Lady Gray with milk and sugar, put on a cheesy American high-school drama, and scratch his fingers through her hair as she lay in his lap.

In return, Amy knew every intricacy of Elias's interests. His favorite paranormal spots across the globe, his chosen book of the week, the small lingering joy from his childhood over the prospect of traveling the world just based on a nature documentary he'd seen.

In many ways, in small details like that, they didn't have to try. They didn't have to agonize over forgetting a simple thought or feeling that had been shared by they other once or twice. They just got each other.

Now, that's not to say that their relationship had no effort put into it, not at all. Elias was the most romantic and mature boy she'd ever met, especially for a sixteen year old. He planned every date to be specially customized to their interests. No half-hearted cinema tickets or last minute pub trips. No, Amy and Elias' dates consisted of walkthrough planetariums where she could point out every constellation, planet, and other space-related jargon that she knew Elias didn't understand. Another fond surprise was the midnight picnic at the top of an abandoned building used for urban exploring on a, for once, clear night sky with a perfect view of London.

Two years into their marriage, Elias started getting into drugs and Amy's heart almost shattered. She didn't leave him, no matter how her friends insisted. She knew the man she'd fell in love with and married was still there and she refused to abandon him when he needed her most.

He'd taken a job as a filing clerk at the Magnus Institute, a supposed research center for strange and paranormal occurrences. At first, it'd practically been his dream job. However, the dull work in his position ensured that he never got a real look at any of the stories he was hoping he would and never got to do the research for them either. His position really should have been labeled "Glorified Coffee Runner". He stayed, if only because he knew that in order to climb the corporate ladder, you needed to be loyal. The disappointment of it took it's toll on him, though.

It wasn't hard drugs, only weed, but it was still a far cry from the sober, clean man he'd been at the start of their marriage.

Amy had always wanted a family. Being an only child, she'd always felt cripplingly alone during her childhood, only comforted by the idea of having a large family of her own someday. With Elias deep into his...hobbies, that idea seemed like fantasy now. Regardless of her own feelings, Amy stood firm in her belief that anyone not completely sober was unfit to be a parent. Not when a small addiction can explode so greatly into something much, much worse. She wasn't sure if she was grateful or resentful of the paranoia caused by all the true crime documentaries she'd binged during her teens.

One day, Elias came home from work positively beaming. Amy didn't smell even a distant whiff of weed on him, and her hopes immediately rose. He told her that James Wright, the Head of the Magnus Institute, had called him into his office that day to discuss a promotion. Amy was just about to congratulate him, when Elias told her he was going to be Mr. Wright's successor.

She paused. She didn't want to bring down his good mood, both because this was the happiest he'd been in over a year, and because she didn't want him to get upset that she wasn't happy for him. He'd been a bit more, temperamental, as of late.

Instead, she cautiously asked how he'd gotten such a leaping promotion in so short a time. Elias had shrugged, said that Mr. Wright was retiring and needed someone to replace him. Apparently his resume had stood out to him.

Amy certainly still had her reservations, but she left the matter alone and declared that they celebrate. Elias had planned an elaborate dinner date for that night, just like he had when they were dating, and Amy let herself get her hopes up just a bit more. Maybe everything would be all right.

As it turned out, it was better than all right. Elias returned home from work the next day just as usual, carrying a content grin on his face. There was an embarrassing moment where Amy had almost asked why his eyes were a different colour, but then got distracted by the chicken in the oven and when she later checked the pictures around the house, found that Elias's eyes had always been gray, not blue, so she shrugged it off.

With Elias having dropped the drugs, his new promotion, their rekindling relationship, plus Amy's own successful career as an astronomer, her dream of having a family during the months that followed didn't seem so far away now. In the end, she wasn't even the one to bring it up. Elias was.

During the start of their relationship, he had definitely been clear that he did want children someday, but Amy had always been the more enthusiastic of the two. Now, Elias was positively eager. So, with everything in her life finally seeming to fall into place, she agreed.

The start of her pregnancy was filled with anxiety. Consistent rolling fear felt like it was crushing her at every step. What if Elias wasn't actually ready for a child and was being impulsive? What if their child had some sort of disability, would Elias be upset? Would Elias grow tired of the constant responsibility and leave her? It was only after binge watching a true crime documentary for the first time in years while snacking on her current craving of pickles and whipped cream that it came to her. Most husbands who end up backing out of their marriage when children get involved show the signs early.

For one, they aren't usually invested after they've had the sex that conceived the child. That was not the case for Elias. If anything, it was the exact opposite. Their night together had been pretty mundane all things considered, but the second her pregnancy test showed positive, he'd been more serious than she'd ever seen him before. He came to every ultrasound and doctor's visit, never once leaving her side. Any time she had morning sickness, a new craving, aches, pains, hormones, anything that caused her discomfort, he was there in an instant waiting on her hand and foot. He made sure that she ate well, gladly calling out sick to take care of her.

Another thing, most husbands who don't actually want children aren't invested in preparing for said child's arrival. Elias, if anything, planned for more than even she would have. Baby proofing outlets, toys that were still entertaining but not a choking hazard, designing the baby's room, staying up for nights on end just to pick out a name. Furniture, accessories, work plans, milk alternatives, everything. Amy would have been a bit miffed at Elias for not letting her help out with much of it if she wasn't so astonished and grateful that he was so excited.

She chalked up her early anxiety to hormones and paranoia from her friends' own sad stories of their husbands. Honestly, his behavior only heightened once the baby was actually born. They'd agreed that Elias would chose the name if it was a boy and Amy would if it was a girl. It ended up being a boy and when Elias held him for the first time, he stared down at his son with a wide smile and said "Hello, Jon."

The first year or so of Jon's life had been fantastic. Elias proved once again that Amy's earlier fears had been unfounded. He watched Jon like a hawk for any signs of harm or danger, played with him whenever he had the chance, read to him, he even got up in the middle of the night regularly to change and feed him.

Talking about it with her friends made her preen with pride as they all bemoaned their jealousy over Amy's involved and loving husband. Of course, it didn't last. Just not in the way that Amy had been expecting.

Elias didn't want any more children. This puzzled Amy as he'd been quite excited to have Jon, but every time she brought up the idea of having another child, he brushed her off. Said they should focus on Jon for now.

It was only when Jon started becoming a toddler that she noticed something...odd about Elias's behavior toward him. No longer were the throws of pregnancy hormones and post-partum depression clouding her judgement of Elias in a rosy hue. He wasn't just involved or loving or any of the other words she'd thought of. He was possessive.

Whenever she spent time around her son when Elias wasn't present, he'd find them eventually and scowl before straightening his face and finding some way to steal Jon from her. And God forbid she try and get near Jon when Elias was already with him.

It was starting to grate on her nerves. Maybe she should be grateful, but it was hard to be when your husband refused to let you be around your own son. She hit her breaking point when one day, when Jon was five, she woke up to the house completely empty. With no sign of Jon or Elias, Amy had freaked out. After she'd called her husband about seven times with no sign of him picking up, she called the police.

There was a city wide search for over fourteen hours, just for Elias to come home holding their son with an annoyed expression on his face. Apparently he'd decided to take a day trip with Jon and hadn't thought to leave a note or call or anything really.

Thankfully, the police let it go on Amy's part, but they questioned Elias quite thoroughly. Why didn't he answer his phone or call back? He wanted all his attention to be on Jon today. Why hadn't he informed Amy that they were going to be leaving? It slipped his mind.

The police called it a misunderstanding and a bout of marital miscommunication before leaving. Amy knew better.

Her plan of action was honestly put together out of shoestrings and bubblegum, but it was the only way of "protesting" she could think of that might be effective. Tomorrow, she was going to hold onto Jon for the whole day. She was not going to put him down for anything, not for a second. She was going to take care of her son and Elias would have to pry him out of her cold, dead hands.

Waking up early was simple. Elias did not wake to her rushed manner of getting dressed or her scurrying off to Jon's room. All in all, Jon seemed quite pleased with this turn of events, beaming from ear to ear when she told him she would be spending the whole day with him.

"Yay! What are we going to do today, momma?" He asked innocently as Amy picked him up from his bed. She smiled at him. "Anything you want to, baby."

"Can we have blueberry pancakes?"

"Sure, let's get you dressed and we'll go get breakfast."

"What about daddy?"

Amy fought to keep a grimace off her face. "Today's a momma and Jon day, hunny. Just the two of us. Daddy's not coming."

At this, Jon actually seemed to beam even brighter. "Really?!" She shushed him, glancing nervously at her bedroom door and straining her ears, but she heard nothing. Elias was still asleep.

Turning back to Jon, she held a finger to her lips and whispered, "We have to be very quiet, Jonny." He giggled at her chosen nickname. "Daddy's still sleeping, we don't want to wake him."

"Okay, momma." Jon giggled again, this time responding in a much quieter voice.

She finished getting Jon ready to go, grabbed her purse, and left. Amy decided they were going to go to a small diner in downtown London that she and Elias had gone to years ago for one of their dates. Their food was fantastic and she knew they served blueberry pancakes in the morning.

Breakfast passed in a blur of laughter and syrup and before she knew it, Amy was holding Jon in her arms again, heading to the car. After buckling him into his car seat and starting the engine, she decided to be brave.

"Hey, Jonny?" She asked.

Jon looked up from his picture book he'd brought with him. "Yes, momma?"

Amy took a deep breath. "What did you and daddy do yesterday? Where did you guys go?"

Glancing into the mirror to see his expression, she noticed that Jon didn't smile or frown. He just looked confused. "Daddy didn't say. It was a biiiiig building with a- a- a birdie made of stone outside!" At that, he smiled.

Amy's eyebrow rose. "What kind of birdie, Jon?"

"I...I don't know, momma. It was round and looked bald."

Suddenly, her heart sank as Amy started to get an inkling about where Elias had taken him yesterday.

"I think you're describing an owl, sweetheart."

"Yeah, that's it! There were lots of papers everywhere and the nice lady called daddy Mr. Boo-shard."

"Bouchard, Jonny. That's daddy's real name."

Jon's eyes twinkled from the back seat, amazement stuck on his face. "Really?!"

Despite the confirmation that Elias had taken Jon to the God damn Magnus Institute, Amy smiled at Jon's excitement. "Yes, baby. Daddy's name is Elias Bouchard. Just don't call him that, I think he likes daddy just fine."

She paused, unsure if she really wanted to ask her next question, but she did it anyway. "What did you and daddy do?"

Jon's face went back to that quiet, puzzled expression from before. "We spent a looooong time talking about...something. Daddy showed me pictures, I...I think. I counted them!" His face suddenly furrowed in concentration, as if he was remembering something while counting on his fingers.

"Fourteen! Daddy showed me fourteen pictures! Daddy spent a lot of time talking about each one alone."

"That's nice, sweetheart, and I'm so proud of you! You counted all the way to fourteen? I think my son's a genius!"

Jon laughed again, this time a full belly laugh. "Silly momma. Of course I'm a j- a jenis!"

"Genius, Jonny." Amy chuckled. However, her face dropped again when she remembered what Jon had said. "Jon...do you remember what the pictures looked like?"

"Ummmm...they were kinda confusing. There was one of the sky, the ground..." Jon paused, starting to look scared. "T-There was also a spider and gross stuff on someone. They were yellow and white."

That was only four, but Amy wasn't going to push for any more than that. She was starting to get really freaked out. "Did daddy tell you why he was showing you these pictures?"

"They're important! I don't know why, but daddy said I'll need to meet them when I get older."

The car was silent for a minute before Jon spoke again. "Momma, I don't want to meet daddy's pictures."

"You won't have to, baby. I'll tell daddy to keep his pictures far away from you." That son of a bitch. Jon was five and Elias was already trying to indoctrinate him into his paranormal bullshit. She'd never had a problem with his interests before, but clearly she should have been. Jon had no idea what he'd been seeing, but there are ten other horrible things that he could have been shown because Elias doesn't known the definition of "age appropriate" 

Amy tried very hard to keep their conversation out of her head for the rest of the day, but it was difficult. She wanted so badly to march back home and lay into her husband, but she wanted this personal day with her son more than that. Jon didn't seem rattled by their conversation that morning. If anything, he seemed to have completely forgotten it. She briefly worried that his brain was already blocking out traumatic memories before pushing it away. A problem for another time.

They had a nice day out, all things considered. Visiting a park, going for ice cream, feeding some ducks. It was genuinely quite pleasant. Especially if Amy ignored the ringing phone in her purse. Maybe Elias needed a little demonstration of what she'd been feeling the day before. At least she wasn't spending her day with her son traumatizing him.

The day passed quickly, though, and soon it was time for them to go home. Pulling into the driveway at about eight, Amy saw the lights peering through the curtains on the ground floor. Elias was waiting.

She picked Jon up and walked through the front door, locking it behind her. Sure enough, Elias was sitting on the couch with his arms folded and legs crossed, an unreadable expression pressed into his face.

"Welcome home." He said stiffly and Amy almost took a step back. She was not expecting this demeanor from him. She thought he might yell and accuse her of kidnapping their son or grimace in shame and apologize for his behavior, even if the latter was less realistic than she would hope. Instead, he seemed, disappointed. Like there was some kind of test she wasn't aware of and had failed it.

Not wanting to take his bullshit lying down, Amy straightened her posture and set her expression neutral. "Hello, Elias."

Her husband continued to stare at her, eyes seeming to bore right through her. She tried to subtly shift, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, but his eyes caught the movement and he sighed.

"Jon, please go to you room. Your mother and I need to have a discussion."

Jon looked between his parents in confusion. Amy promised herself she would not put her son down for anything today, but they did need to have this talk and she did not want Jon to hear it. So, against her judgement, Amy bent down and let go of her son.

"Go on, sweetheart. I'll come tuck you in soon. Consider this a pushed back bedtime." She smiled down warmly at him and winked.

He looked like he wanted to protest, but took another look between his parents and relented. "Okay, momma." He whispered as he walked around the corner and down the hall to his room. She waited for the door to click before turning back to Elias, ready to start what was likely their last conversation as husband and wife.

Jon knew he shouldn't be listening in, but he was curious. And worried. Maybe a bit scared. Not that he would tell anyone! He was five now, a big boy. He shouldn't be scared, especially not of momma and daddy.

The corner cut off any sight of the hallway from the living room, so he just opened and closed his door without going inside. Like momma said, he was a genie! No- a genius! Even though he didn't know what that meant.

The hallway was dark and as Jon started to creep back towards the living room, he heard daddy speak.

"You shouldn't have done that, Amy."

"Done what, Elias? Spend a day with my son? The one that you never seem to want me be near?"

"Now now, don't be like-"

"No, Elias! Shut up! I already asked Jon about where you took him yesterday and what you did. You're trying to make him into some sort of- some sort of- gore obsessed creep!"

Jon pressed himself against the wall, just around the corner from where his momma and daddy were talking. He didn't know what momma meant, but he remembered where daddy took him yesterday and momma asking about it today. He had been trying not to think about it because it really scared him, but clearly momma thought it was important. Momma sounded very mad.

"Amy, you're over reacting. I am not doing anything to Jon. Do you think that me showing him a few pictures from my work is going to turn him into a murderer? A, "gore obsessed creep", as you so eloquently put it?"

"He is five years old, Elias. You have no right to try and traumatize him with your weird pictures of sick people and spiders, or whatever it is you think you were doing."

Suddenly, Jon felt very cold. Like someone rubbed ice cubes on him. He heard daddy step away from the hallway, towards where momma had been when she put him down. When he spoke again, his voice came out icy.

"I have no right? You ungrateful little-" He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "You already served your purpose. You birthed Jon, and I should have gotten rid of you when I had the chance. I had hoped you would mind your business and stay out of my way, but I should have known better than that."

Momma's breathing was ragged. "What the fuck does that mean, Elias?"

"I think you're know exactly what it means, Amy."

"You can't be serious. W-We're just having a bit of a spat, that's all. You don't need to- to-"

"To threaten you?"

Jon's breath hitched and he slammed a hand over his mouth. It was too quiet for daddy or momma to hear, but he did it anyway.

He'd only heard the word "threaten" once. Daddy had let him see a movie on his birthday where two men yelled at each other and one of them said he was going to kill the other, pulling out a knife. The only reason he didn't do it was because the police showed up and arrested him. Momma had been very unhappy that Jon had seen it, but had explained what happened when Jon asked anyway.

"He was threatening him, Jonny. Remember when you scraped your knee last month? Remember how bad that hurt? Well, when you want someone to hurt like that, but one-hundred times worse, so badly that they never get better and go away forever, your threaten them."

Her face turned stern. "Never threaten someone, Jon. Not unless they do it first and you need to seem tough so they don't follow through with their threat."

Now, daddy was threatening momma. Why?! She didn't do anything wrong or threaten him! Did she? It didn't sound like she did.

Slowly and silently, Jon peeked around the corner of the wall. Momma was backed against the front door looking more scared than Jon had ever seen someone look before. He couldn't see daddy's face, but he was getting very close to her and was reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small jar and a cloth. Momma didn't notice.

Daddy sighed. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this. Terribly messy business, all of it. Especially after your little stunt yesterday, now I'm going to have to come up with a lie for the police and make sure they don't find your body."

If possible, momma paled even more at that. "What-"

Before she could get her sentence out, daddy lunged at her, holding the cloth to her mouth and nose. After a few second she collapsed. Looking down at her still form on the floor, he tutted disapprovingly. Uncapping his small jar, a thick white fog started to seep out and he waved it into front of her nose until she had inhaled it all.

Jon was scared. Scared for momma, scared of daddy. Scared for himself. What would he do if he found out Jon had been listening and watched what he'd done? Would he do that to him as well?

Carefully, as daddy walked to the kitchen, Jon snuck back to his room and quietly hid inside. Crawling under his covers, Jon heard the front door open and close a few minutes later, and started crying.

When Jon woke up, momma was gone. He played pretend, asking daddy where she was. He put on a pained smile, like he was trying to figure out how to word something sad without making him sad. "Your mother decided to leave, Jon. She wasn't happy here with us and left."

It was a lie. Jon knew what he'd seen. But he didn't say that, instead feigning innocence and asking when she was coming back. Daddy said she wasn't coming back. And Jon knew that the police hadn't been able to stop someone from making good on their threat like they had in the movie he'd seen.

So, he cried. Said he wanted momma to come back. When daddy's face started to get less patient and more irritated, Jon quieted down. He told Jon to go to his room and play. He did go to his room. But he didn't play. Instead, he crawled under his blankets again, clutching the cat plushie momma had given him last year when he'd practically begged her for it at the store, and cried again.

He held the plushie tight to his chest and decided to name her Amy.

Chapter Text

When Jon turned six, he decided to rebel. Well, kind of.

("Bouchard, Jonny. That's daddy's real name."

"Really?!"

"Yes, baby. Daddy's name is Elias Bouchard. Just don't call him that, I think he likes daddy just fine.")

Jon could not stop thinking about the day momma had disappeared and all the things they had talked about, how upset momma had seemed when he'd told her about his trip with daddy the day before. But most importantly, he couldn't stop thinking about saddy's name.

He wasn't planning on saying it out loud, not for a long time. However, when Jon turned six, he started referring to him as Elias. Only in his head, just a small act of rebellion for taking momma away, but it made him feel slightly better. It didn't help that once momma was gone, Elias started acting strangely.

It started out as a one-time-thing. Elias came to Jon's school and called him out of class to go home. He didn't understand why he was being taken home at the time, but he did when he recognized the route to the building momma hadn't liked. The lady at the front greeted them, once again slightly confused at Jon's presence, but hadn't questioned Elias.

The room on the second floor was just the same as the first time Jon had entered it. Pictures of old men decorated the walls, dates on the plaques dating back many, many years. He didn't recognize any of the names or faces in those frames, except Elias's.

"Jon."

Jon turned his head back to his father who was leaning against the desk in the center of the room. Behind him, there was a circular stained glass window, except made with only clear glass.

Even though there was no way to tell, he almost thought he could see the shape of an eye in the center of the glass.

"Jon, come here please." Elias beckoned, a small wry smile on his face.

Reluctantly, Jon walked over to him. "Yes, Daddy?"

"Do you remember the picture game we played last year?"

Of course I remember, he wanted to say. It's the only thing I've thought about besides momma.

"Yes."

"Good." Elias stood and walked behind the desk, opening a drawer and dropping a file onto the desk's surface. "We're going to do it again"

The rest of the day was spent with Jon being shown fourteen new pictures and Elias quizzing him on which one matched the first set he'd shown him back when he was five. Even though he hadn't seen the originals in months, he was able to connect a couple.

One of the new pictures was of a security camera Jon saw around buildings all the time. Momma had said they were there to watch everyone and make sure they were safe, so he connected it pretty quickly to the picture of the wide open eyes he'd seen before.

The other picture he understood was one of a broken light bulb. He didn't need to use much thought to connect that to the darkened stairwell Elias had shown him before.

Unfortunately, Elias seemed...happy with Jon's results. He reached over and ruffled his hair. "You'll make a fantastic Archivist one day, Jon."

Jon didn't know what an Archivist was, but he wasn't sure he wanted to be one.

He'd thought that was it. Maybe this would continue was he was seven, then eight, then nine. What Jon didn't expect, was to get called out of school again two weeks later and do the same thing. Then again eleven days later. Then again five days later. Then he was leaving school early multiple times a week for Elias's stupid quiz.

When the phone rang again almost two months later, his teacher didn't bother picking it up before telling him to pack his stuff and head to the office. Jon did just that, but when he got to the office, he heard raised voices coming from inside. Just barely, he made out the tail end of a conversation.

"-ridiculous! He is my son, I can take him home whenever I like!"

"I'm sorry Mr. Bouchard, but it's the law. Jon has already had too many unauthorized absences and by law, you cannot keep taking him home without a genuine and provable reason."

"I could take this to court, you know! You are taking away the rights to my own son-"

"I am not taking away anything, Mr. Bouchard. If you want to take this to court, and I doubt you will, they will tell you the exact same thing."

Jon could hardly believe his ears. Elias was getting in trouble for taking him out of school? He wouldn't have to keep going back to the building with the awful pictures?

Deciding it'd be rude to keep eavesdropping and he should make his presence known, Jon knocked on the office door. The voices on the other side went silent and the door opened to reveal Elias, who looked rather miffed, and Headmaster Charlotte Fanning, who smiled down at him.

"My apologies, Jon, but you are not actually going home today. Your father was just leaving, so you can run on back to class now."

Elias's eyes narrowed at the Headmaster, but Jon ignored him. He simply turned around and walked back to class.

His teacher was certainly surprised to see him, but he retook his seat without a fuss and the day continued on as normal. Elias did not pick him up early for their picture game again.

With all his newly freed time and significant drop in stress from his father's antics, Jon started reading. He had powered through the picture books that the others kids his age were reading - had been since he knew how to read at all - so he moved onto books more complex. He didn't understand why his teacher was so perplexed by him bringing a full, normal book to school, but he ignored her quizzical glances. Same with his classmates. He knew that his bout of leaving class had led to rumors about why. Not to mention that his habits of reading was less than popular with other six year olds. And as he got older, seven year olds. By the time he was eight, Jon could only be entertained by books. While his peers squealed over movies and cartoons, Jon very pickily read his books.

Maybe it was his strange upbringing, but Jon was very, very curious. Maybe his desire of knowledge was to supplement all the things he didn't know. What happened to his mom, why his father's pictures were so important, what was wrong with that building, that he now knew was his father's place of work called The Magnus Institute. He still didn't know what they did, but that was one mystery he didn't want to know.

Jon's curiosity took a bit of a turn when he found a different book. He'd been browsing the library, collecting books to check out at the front desk when they stood out to him. He hadn't visited the children's section in a while, but he was tired of the melodramatic philosophical readings he kept finding in the older sections. Plus, the front desk wouldn't let him check them out without Elias present, so Jon skimmed the books that he'd given up on when he was six.

Obviously, picture books bored him. There was nothing substantial in them, and they were over before you could even try to get immersed in them. He stood by this as he passed them, until his eyes landed on a white spine.

It was a thin book, even by picture books standards. It was small, square, and completely monochromatic instead of the gaudy, attention seeking colours he was used to from these kinds of books.

When he picked it up, the cover had a title almost seeming scratched into it that read, A Guest for Mr. Spider.

Jon was tempted to ignore it, put it back on the shelf and continue his search, but he felt like he couldn't. Turning it over, the back had a cartoon spider with a red hat, doing a dance. It was large and bloated.

If Jon didn't want to put it down before, he definitely wanted to put it down now. There was something...wrong, with this book. Nevertheless, Jon opened it. On the inside of the cover sat a small metal plate, not a typical thing to find in a disturbing looking children's book. Ingraved in the plate were the words, From the Library of Jurgen Leitner.

He should have walked away. He should have forgotten the whole thing and left.

To his credit, Jon did leave. Just...unknowingly and while reading the book.

KNOCK KNOCK

"Who is it, Mr. Spider?"

"It's Mr. Bluebottle, and he's brought you a cake."

"Mr. Spider doesn't like it."

KNOCK KNOCK

"Who is it, Mr. Spider?"

"It's Mrs. Fruit, and she's brought you some flowers."

"Mr. Spider doesn't eat flowers."

KNOCK KNOCK

"Who is it, Mr. Spider?"

"It's Mr. Horse, and he's brought you his son."

"Mr. Spider wants more."

"Mr. Spider wants another guest for dinner. It is polite to knock."

Suddenly, Jon was brought out of his trance by a boy shoving him to the floor. He was one of the more active people who didn't like him, Jon believed his name was Daniel Thomas? David Taylor? Dean Todd? He couldn't for the life of him remember since he never usually introduced himself. No, the near adult had heard about Jon's peculiarities and suddenly decided it was fun it slap him around. How had this guy even heard about him? This city wasn't that small.

Taking a moment, Jon looked around and realized he was no longer in the library, but in a small park nearby. How hadn't he noticed himself leaving?

"Hey, little Einstein!" Snapping his head back to the boy in front of him, Jon saw the malicious grin spreading across his face as he looked down at Jon's hands.

"Whatcha got there?" He snatched the book from Jon's hands, glancing at the cover before smirking and waving it in his face.

"I thought you were supposed to be smart, what's with the kiddie book?" The boy laughed, and started flipping through the book. Something told Jon that was a bad idea, but before he could tell him to give it back, he watched as the smug smile that held across his lips melted, replaced by something...wrong.

His eyes trailed along the pictures, reading them. His eyes were wrong, they almost looked drugged like the patients in the occasional medical show Jon would indulge in.

With a quick jerk, the boy's legs started - walking? That didn't seem right. It didn't seem like his legs were moving on their own, rather, it was like a string had been attached to them and he was being forcibly moved somewhere else.

Not wanting to lose the book and severely concerned for the well-being of this teenager, Jon followed the makeshift puppet man. They didn't walk for too long, but he really didn't like how many twisting alleys they entered and how few people there were. Distantly, panic welled up inside him as he recognized the dark shadows of night time had entered without his notice. Nevertheless, he kept following the boy until they stopped at a seemingly inconspicuous house.

Walking up to the door, he placed the book against it and knocked twice on the wood. Jon felt like he was going to be sick. Slowly, the door opened to reveal a dark abyss that couldn't possibly exist inside someone's home. With slowly building terror, Jon watched as gray sticky strands shot out of the dark, wrapping around the boys limbs, and two long, black, fuzzy legs grabbed the boy whose name Jon didn't know, and dragged him inside before he could scream.

He didn't know how long he stood there, staring at the door that had eaten his former bully. Eventually, Jon gathered his thoughts enough to walk back down the alley and find his way home. As he walked, he knew he had to tell someone. There was something wrong, something so very wrong. He had kept quiet about his mom, but this was something completely different. As much as it hurt to say, the fate he mom had suffered was, well, normal. It made him quiver with disgust at Elias whenever he thought about it, but it was natural. The things that had happened today were anything but that.

Could he go to the police? Surely they would believe him. They could give a rational explanation for why a random book in a public library had gotten a boy eaten.

But what if they thought he was joking or playing a prank? Or worse, would they think he was making it up? That a childish imagination had led him to the police station?

Would the boy whose name Jon couldn't remember be completely forgotten, with no one to mourn him because they didn't know he was gone?

Before he could contemplate the issue further, Jon stepped up to his front door. What would his father do about him coming home so late? He was always at home long before nightfall, would he get in trouble?

As if sensing he was there, Elias opened the door before Jon could even knock. Maybe that was a good thing. Jon wasn't sure he wanted to knock on anyone's door ever again. Glancing up, his father was smiling at him. The most genuine and terrifying smile he had ever seen his father make. Stepping aside, Elias held the door open as Jon walked inside, before slamming it shut and locking it.

"Oh, Jon. You have no idea what you've just done, do you?"

"What?" Jon was confused and scared. Why was he acting like this? What had Jon done? Was...Was this about Mr. Spider and the boy?

"Bloody good show, Jon. I am so proud of you!" With a quick movement, Elias leaned down and hugged him. Hugged. Him. As far as Jon could remember, his father had never given him a proper hug before. However, it ended just as quickly as it had started. Pulling back, Elias was still grinning from ear to ear.

"This is such a great head start. The Web is always the trickiest of the Fears to get to do anything, and you walked right into a mark!"

He was saying words, but Jon didn't understand them. Spiders spun webs, so he was pretty sure this was about Mr. Spider. But why was he happy? Someone had been eaten! Someone had been taken by Mr. Spider and his father was acting like it was the greatest news in the world.

With as much force as he could manage, which wasn't very much, Jon tried to push Elias away. He succeeded in wiggling out of the hands that gripped his shoulders and looked back at his father in disbelief.

"What are you talking about?! What's going- What's going on?!" Jon could feel tears creeping at the edges of his eyes, threatening to spill.

Elias simply shook his head and tutted. "Jon, Jon, Jon. There is so much at play here that you don't understand."

He grabbed Jon's hand and started pulling him towards his bedroom. Jon couldn't remember ever being allowed inside and suddenly realized that he didn't actually want to know why. Unfortunately, Elias pulled the door open and dragged him inside, shutting it with a click behind them.

There were eyes everywhere.

Not real eyes, but drawn ones. At first he thought it was paint, but then the smell hit him. It smelt like rusted iron. Like old blood. How hadn't he smelt this though the door? The smell was so strong, surely he should have been able to. Pinching his nose was all Jon could do not to gag.

Elias seemed unfazed. Instead, he walked over to the closet and pulled out a file that Jon recognized.

More. Pictures.

His father didn't even get the chance to open it before Jon lost his mind.

"Seriously?! Now?!"

Elias chuckled. "Why of course. Now that you've been marked, I can finally introduce you to the truth."

He looked like he was about to continue, but Jon interrupted him. Looking at the walls covered in eye drawings brought a question to his mind. "How did you know about Mr. Spider?"

His father blinked. "Excuse me?"

"How did you know that Mr. Spider ate that boy? You weren't there and I didn't get to say anything, you already knew. How?"

It didn't make sense. Nothing was making sense. His father couldn't have known. He couldn't have. He was at home the whole time, he couldn't have witnessed what had happened. Elias tossed the file onto the bed as a smile far worse than the one before crept up his face.

"I Know everything, Jon. And I can help you Know everything too."

Jon felt his heart beat faster, like it was going to spring out of his chest. He felt angry and frustrated and scared. He wasn't getting any answers, he was just getting confused.

"I don't want to know everything, I want clear answers. Right now! You're not making an sense!"

Elias's smile turned smug, much like the boy who saved his life's had at the park. "Well, I can start with one answer, if only to placate you for now."

He felt a spark of satisfaction for a second before his father spoke again. "Do you want to know what exactly happened to Daniel Thomas when he was taken by Mr. Spider, Jon?"

There was a split second where Jon almost said no, but he didn't get the chance. All at once, he fell to his knees as images and words filled his mind.

Daniel Thomas didn't know what his problem with Jonathan Bouchard was. Maybe it was because Daniel had always gotten picked on for reading as a kid and he wanted Bouchard to get the same treatment. Maybe he was just being a dick.

What he did know was that the little twat was walking through the park with his nose deep in a children's book rather than some pretentious 'adult' book. And it looked like the perfect opportunity to mess with him. Daniel strolled over to the unsuspecting eight year old and shoved him to the ground with a sense of smug satisfaction and a hint of revulsion at himself. Pushing the thought aside, he snatched the book from Bouchard's hands, waving it in front of his face tauntingly.

Honestly, he'd only intended to mess with him a bit and leave, but he opened the book. He wanted a general sense of what the kid had been reading so he could make fun of him later, but he found himself pausing. Gazing over the images that definitely did not belong in a kid's book, Daniel started to read it. He didn't know why, it was hardly interesting, but he did. Just as he got to the last page, talking about knocking on Mr. Spider's door, he lifted up the book.

Why...Why was he standing in front of someone's front door? Why was he knocking on it? It seemed darker than usual, how had he gotten here?

The questions he asked himself didn't continue once the door swung open. The inky black that did not belong inside someone's home started to beckon him, to draw him towards it. When the sticky gray strands shot out and grabs his wrists and ankles, then Daniel started to panic.

They were coarse, pulled tight, and felt like they'd been soaked in a layer of glue. Even lightly pulling his arm seemed to reverberate the strange string, like a thin sheet of metal being wiggled. Like a fly struggling in a spider's web.

"Who is it, Mr. Spider?" A deep and...wrong, twisted voice called quietly from the door and against his will, Daniel responded.

"It's Mr. Thomas, and he's brought you his life." He responded in a hushed voice, barely more than a whisper. Immediately, he started to struggle. Or, well, he tried to, anyway. Daniel's brain fired command after command to his body, telling him to get away as fast as possible, but he continued to stand unmoving in the doorway.

Slowly, a pair of horribly fuzzy black legs reached out from the door, and the voice purred, "Mr. Spider is pleased."

All at once, the legs grabbed him and pulled Daniel through the door into the nothingness on the other side. At first, he thought a bag was being placed over his head and his limbs were being tied with rope like he was being kidnapped. Thrashing against his assailants restraints, his brain screamed that he wasn't being kidnapped. He was being wrapped in something. And he remembered what spiders did before consuming their prey.

This made him thrash harder, getting more and more tangled in the sticky, suffocating cocoon. He could still feel the legs of Mr. Spider wrapping the rough substance around his body, but then it stopped. For a few agonizing minutes, it stopped. Everything stopped. He was completely and utterly trapped in a coffin of cursed and disgusting string, waiting. Waiting for what? To be eaten? For someone to find and free him, tell him it was all a bad dream? For Mr. Spider to speak again?

The feeling of legs running over his wrapped form returned and Daniel froze. There were two smaller - but still quite large - leg like protrusions lightly poking and prodding at the webbing, until they brushed over his stomach, right in the middle of his abdomen, and stabbed down.

He screamed. It didn't do anything, didn't help, but Daniel found he didn't care. Something was spreading through his body, venom? No...No, spiders digest their prey by injecting them with their stomach acid. His insides were liquefying.

His organs started to collapse in on themselves, mixing together into a disgusting sluggish mush. The liquid that used to be his oblique muscles crawled up his throat along with...something else.

As his body continued to disintegrate, Daniel felt something...moving. Inside of him. When he felt eight normal sized furry legs crawl across his abdomen before slipping into the wound in his body made by Mr. Spider's fangs, he threw up a mix of ribs and deltoid. All it did was spread the already quickly advancing digestive acid to his face. The disgusting, burning liquid ran into his eyes, melting them.

Distantly, Daniel felt his cocoon being ripped open. The last thing he felt before his brain joined the mush cocktail that was now his body, were the dozens of spiders frantically slurping his intestines and Mr. Spider joining them.

Jon was crying. More than that, he was screaming. Even if he didn't see what was happening he knew what was happening. He knew what it felt like. Almost as if he was the one being liquefied, Jon's skin tingled, causing him to scratch at it viciously

Above him, Elias stood, a pitying smile etched across his lips.

"Come now, Jon. We have many things to discuss."

Everything was different after that. Jon could no longer pretend that the whispers behind his back were just gossip and delusions. There was something wrong with him and his family.

Elias spent the rest of the weekend explaining about Robert Smirke and the fourteen...Fears. Those God forsaken pictures had been telling him what was happening from the start. Jon now knew about the nature of the Fears; what they did, what avatars and monsters were, etc. Due to reasons that Jon was actually able to deduce himself, his father dodged and avoided specific questions about The Beholding and his own...abilities. Honestly, he didn't need to answer those. Jon was certain that the next time he visited Elias's work, he'd be able to find all the answers he needed.

One thing that he did answer - and the thing that actually disconcerted Jon the most - was about the Archives at his job.

He'd described it as a feeding ground for The Beholding. A place filled with fear from various unexplainable circumstances with the other Fears that was being directly fed to The Beholding. The Archivist was supposedly the one who...extracted...this information, a person accepting a seeminging normal job only to slowly lose all sense of their humanity; an unwilling avatar. Though he didn't say it, Jon still thought back to the second time he'd done that stupid picture game with Elias.

("You'll make a fantastic Archivist one day, Jon.")

He asked to be called out sick on Monday. If he went to his year three class and didn't hear any mention of Daniel Thomas, no gossip or whispers about his disappearance, he might break down. Then again, he was probably going to do that anyway.

At the very least, his father stopped pretending anything about their family was normal. He'd throw out random tidbits of information that he couldn't possibly have known and started asking Jon if he wanted to come down to his work - The Magnus Institute - more often. An offer that was always met with vehement refusal. His room still stayed firmly locked though Jon didn't mind that too much. He'd prefer for the old blood stain smell to stay as far away from him as possible.

By the time he'd turned nine, Elias's requests for Jon to come to work with him had become less requests and more demands.

"I can't put this off any longer, Jon." Was the reasoning he gave when questioned about why he was so insistent.

Not wanting to cause too much trouble and risk getting, what? Killed? Jon eventually agreed. He had a small plan that he'd been making ever since the first time he'd been asked to come to the Magnus Institute anyway.

When they got there, the receptionist lady was different than the last time he'd been here. Her name tag said Rosie, and she greeted his father with a subtle air of nervousness. She did do a double take when she saw Jon, clearly not expecting her boss to bring in a child to work, but simply greeted him and let them be on their way.

Elias's office hadn't changed a bit in the three years since since his last visit, which was hopefully good news for his plan. He didn't get the chance to examine the room more as his father turned to him with the corners of his lips upturned.

"Alright, Jon. I need you to stay right here for a moment while I run downstairs to grab something." Before he knew it, Elias was out the door and Jon couldn't believe his luck. Straining his ears for the sound of his father's footsteps, he locked the door once he no longer heard them and started aggressively searching the room.

He had no clue what exactly he was looking for, only that he was grabbing anything that looked like it might be important. There were a of bunch files that, even though they looked like all the others, stood out to him. Grabbing them, he tossed them onto the desk and skimmed through them, looking for anything be could find on The Beholding. One file practically jumped at him. It was a statement.

As much as he wanted to, Jon knew he didn't have time to fully read it, so his eyes brushed over the words frantically, until he reached towards the end. It was about a woman who described a feeling of constantly being watched, but eventually discovered that the cause was the eyes on the things she owned. Pictures of smiling family members were watching her, the models and characters on his magazines and books were watching her. Anything that had a eye or eyes was watching her. So she stabbed them all out. Pictures shattered, books torn. She did not rest until the only eyes that remained in her apartment were her own. When the feeling of being watched didn't stop, she got rid of those too.

While Jon certainly felt distressed, he understood why this was important. His father could watch people. It was the only way he could know the things he did, but Jon hadn't known how. Well, now he did.

He briefly started rummaging through the desk before pulling out a small pocket knife. Not wanting to think about why it was there, Jon's eyes fell on the wall of pictures. The people who held his father's position in the past. And he felt them watching him. So, he followed in the footsteps of the woman in the statement. By the time he finished the removal of James Wright's eyes, he heard loud and heavy footsteps coming up the stairs fast and the doorknob started wiggling.

"Jon! Stop this nonsense at once!" Jon didn't listen. He stabbed through the eyes of his father's picture and heard a cry of pain from the other side of the door. There might have been other eyes in the room besides his own, but he didn't bother looking for them. Instead, he turned back to the statements on the desk.

If he had a lighter, this would be a lot easier. Nevertheless, he still had the pocket knife, so he put it to use. His goal was to, in general, cause as much damage as possible and see what it did to Elias, so he wasn't too picky about how he would go about doing that.

The paper ripped and punctured and shredded under his hurried stabbing. He made sure to try and cut and tear through words horizontally to it'd be more difficult to put them back together if someone tried.

Without warning, the door to his father's office swung open to reveal Elias. And he looked livid. He marched over and grabbed Jon by the back of his neck.

"Jonathan Bouchard, you are in so much trouble."

The only time Jon had been scared of his father was the night he took away - no, killed - his mother. The fear he'd felt that night did not even hold a candle to the trembling in his heart now. Was Elias going to kill him?

A slow, languid smile that could only be described as evil spread across his father's face and he laughed. Jon didn't know why that scared him more.

"Now now, Jon." His father spoke in a horribly sweet voice that only raised his blood pressure more. "I was truly hoping to use this for your co-operation in something more important, not a childish tantrum."

Elias sighed and released Jon from his grip causing him to tumble to the floor that was now covered in shattered glass and paper pieces. He looked up at his father with fear and was met with only cold eyes and a wry grin.

"Don't be worried, Jon." He said and Jon started to feel weak, dizzy. And suddenly he was for more terrified than he already had been as realization dawned on him. Elias only continued to smile.

"Since you want to know about your mother so badly, I figured it'd be better to show you."

Amy's fight with Elias had not gone as she'd thought it would and she almost didn't want to open her eyes to see where she'd ended up. She remembered the feeling of the cloth being pressed to her mouth, her consciousness slowly slipping away. What about Jon? He was alone with him, no longer able to be protected or defended from whatever Elias had planned for him. She was here. Wherever 'here' was.

She was surrounded by something. Flexing her fingers, Amy moved her arms barely a few centimeters before feeling them brush against coarse dirt. Was...Was she underground? Panic flared in her chest as for a moment, she entertained the idea that Elias had been sick enough to bury her alive. Taking a deep breath - and trying not to think about the possibility of limited air or inhaling dirt - Amy paused to examine what the situation was exactly.

The air felt warm and stuffy. On all sides, she was surrounded by dry soil whose shape was starting to crumble the more she moved. Amy was laying on her back, so if the ground surrounding her decided to collapse, it would to right into her eyes and nose and mouth and-

Stop. Breathe in. Breathe out. Amy swore she felt slightly warmer than she had not seconds ago, but brushed it off as paranoia and panic from the whole situation. Allowing herself a moment of contemplation, Amy started to feel very, very afraid as reality started to dawn on her.

Elias had buried her alive. The man that she'd been married to since she was eighteen, that she'd loved and been loved by in return, that had given her a son that she cared about with all her heart, had put her in the ground without even the decency to kill her first. She had no way out and limited air. Amy had no clue how the dirt that was drier than the desert had held it's shape for so long, but if it didn't cave in on her first, she was going to die of asphyxiation.

It was a tempting idea, trying to dig herself out. Unfortunately, she had no idea how far down Elias had dug. She could be two meters underground or six. If she tried to climb out and was buried too far down to actually get anywhere, the ground would crush her from above. God, was she just stressed or was it seriously getting hotter in here?

Before she could continue contemplating the pros and cons of just screaming for help, something shifted beneath her. At first it seemed like the soil had shifted more, but it didn't feel like the ground itself was moving. It felt like something was moving beneath it.

Then, Amy felt it. A tiny insect crawled up from the dirt and started to walk across her arm, no doubt looking for some sort of food. She tried to squash it, but she could hardly move at all, let alone move enough to kill an ant without bringing the structured earth down onto her. A feeling of uneasy began to grow as the ant moved up her arm until it was at her chest. Then up her neck and onto her face. She was about to say 'screw it' and do something, before it walked up to her ear and crawled into it.

Amy started thrashing. It wasn't smart but the temperature in her hole in the ground was continuing to rise and more bugs of all kinds were crawling out of the ground and onto her, into her. Termites crawling towards her eyes at a speed high enough that she barely shut her eyes in time. Beetles advancing up to her ears to follow in the ant's footsteps. Amy covered her ears, but it didn't help. Earwigs moved up her nose. Ants continued to pour through the cracks in her fingers and into her ear canals.

Opening her mouth to scream didn't help, all it did was give another access point for the creepy crawling creatures that lived beneath the earth.

Her frantic movements made by trying to keep the things out of her body continued to move the soil that was surrounding her, enclosing her space more and more. Something was burning. The smell of cooking meat started to fill the small amount of air that Amy had, a nasty, burnt scent accompanying it. After a few seconds of clear thought, she realized that was the smell of her flesh and hair cooking. Why was it so hot? There couldn't possibly be a fire all the way down here.

Thought was getting hard to achieve as more things crawled into the holes in her head, some even burrowing into her flesh as it started to soften with the heat.

Her whole body was squirming with things that shouldn't be there. Amy tried to scream through the pain of burning skin and insects moving in her veins, but her vocal chords couldn't make any sound besides a pathetic gurgle of softened muscle and cooking, squirming bugs. She was on fire, literally. Even with the creatures in her body eating away at the backs of her eyeballs, Amy could see and feel the heat of fire on her skin. The burning sensation felt so cold, you'd have thought she was freezing if not for the roaring flames atop her. There was barely enough oxygen for her to breathe, let alone to fuel a fire. But Amy didn't question it. Her frontal lobe had been almost completely eaten away by the creatures that'd made their temporary home within her body, so questions weren't really something she could do anymore.

As the flesh across her body started to shrivel away to reveal bone and fat and muscle, the ground above Amy finally collapsed. It put out the fire and the still alive insects crawled back into their home, leaving Amy to choke her dying breath on the soil that had poured into her lungs, head, and body.

Screaming. Sobbing. Curled up in a ball on the floor, clutching his head, was Jon. He hacked and coughed and tears streamed down his face in waves as he struggled to catch his breath.

Elias had only given Jon the knowledge of what happened to Daniel. Words that filled his head and would have let him create his own mental image of what had happened, if he wished. Which he didn't. Jon had not been given that luxury for his mum's death.

He could see and feel every sensation. The panic and pain of it all. And Elias was watching with satisfacion the entire time. Jon just barely got ahold himself enough to look up at the sick man looking down at him. Elias only sighed with slight disappointment.

"I had hoped that by killing her in multiple fear domains, you would have somehow gotten their marks." He shook his head in disapproval, like a teacher scolding a student for pulling on someone's hair.

"Unfortunately not. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to find a place that fell under both the Desolation and the Corruption? The Buried was easy considering it can exist quite literally anywhere underground, but I digress."

Jon shook with rage. Bile was rising in his throat and and every second listening to Elias Bouchard speak was making it worse.

"Do you even hear yourself?! How- How can you possibly be this vile?!"

"Do not give me your foul attitude, Jon. You have a very special role-"

"Forget it! In what world would I ever willingly work with you on anything?" Jon, for all his anger, was genuinely confused how a man who seemed to have everything planned out could be so stupid.

Why did he think that showing him the most vivid, disgusting vision of his mum's death would make him in any way interested in helping him with anything? Elias let out another long-suffering sigh, as if Jon was the one causing issues here.

"Jon, put your selfishness aside for a second, please. There is so much more to this world than what I've told you." Elias straightened his tie and stepped over a stard of glass towards Jon, stopping in front of him and smiling. Another smug upturn of the lips, like he genuinely thought he'd won. Jon was starting to fear that he had.

"If your little tantrum is over now, we can get on with what I actually had planned for you today."

Jon backed away, scowling at the man above him with tears blurring his vision and feeling the fight in him start to drain. "I'm not doing anything for you."

"Yes, Jon. Yes you are."

Chapter Text

Unsurprisingly, being forced by your freaky, supernatural father to try and get 'marked' by a bunch of fear entities is not a whole lot of fun.

As summer approached, Jon had been getting more and more requests from Elias to go outside and "wander around", as he had so helpfully put it. He wasn't inclined to do anything the bastard wanted, but the idea of having to experience what he had back in Elias's office if he didn't comply was, admittedly, a good motivator. So, Jon would spend almost all of his time - when he wasn't in school - outside the house and searching for anything that might point to an avatar of one of the Fears.

Since he already got a mark from the Web, he only has thirteen to go. Yay.

Well, technically twelve. He didn't have to go out of his way for one from the Eye. According to Elias, he'd "get it when he was ready", whatever that was supposed to mean. What constitutes someone as ready to be infected by the fear of being watched?

At the very least, Jon found he had a bit of sway over spiders now. He couldn't control them - not that he'd want to - but they seemed more amiable to his suggestions. These suggestions may or may not be the terrified screaming of "Get away from me" while Jon climbed onto any furniture he could find. He had a very, very rational fear of spiders now. Sue him.

Even so, he did notice that his father wasn't particularly fond of the eight-legged creatures either. He also found that if he lightly mentioned that fact, the arachnids would crawl off somewhere and his father would come home looking pissed off and miserable. Maybe, just maybe, Jon could call a truce with the horrifying creatures. Or at least he thought he could, until he woke up in the middle of the night to one of the large beats sitting on his chest. No amount of joy from Elias's torment was worth going through that again.

It was early April now. As usual, England's weather was fluctuating between a little too warm and the possibility of snow. Today was leaning towards the former, so Jon was walking the streets of Morden as a bit of a break from London, that is, if he would call it a break. His school had just recently gone on Easter holiday, which meant he had a whole two weeks to wander about, searching for Fear things to traumatize him.

Noon was approaching, so Jon figured he should start looking for a place to have lunch when he passed by a building that caught his eye. Pinhole Books, the sign read. Curious, and seeing that they were open, Jon opened the door and peeked inside. He was instantly met by a staircase leading up. There was something decidedly wrong with this place. Wrong, like how A Guest for Mr. Spider had felt wrong, and for a second, even though he didn't know if Elias was watching or not, Jon considered walking away. This place was definitely associated with one of the Fears in some way; surely he should enter in hopes of getting a mark to placate his father.

On the other hand, this was a bookstore. The last thing he wanted was a run-in with another book associated with Jurgen Leitner.

Nevertheless, Jon ignored the sign that said "By Appointment Only", stepped through the door, and began to ascend the staircase. When he reached the top, his jaw dropped a bit. Books were strewn and stacked in all sorts of crazy piles, almost making a maze out of the things. Taking a step forward, the floorboard under Jon's feet creaked and movement sounded on the other side of the book mountain to his left. He froze in place. Christ, there'd been a doorbell outside. Why hadn't he rung it instead of just waltzing into a cursed bookstore?

From around the corner, a boy who looked to be only a couple of years older than him appeared. He had shoulder-length light brown hair and washed-out blue eyes. He wore a black jacket made of fake leather, a white t-shirt with various designs that looked hand-made in black ink, and dark blue jeans. He also had a scowl on his face that appeared as soon as he saw Jon.

"Who the hell are you?"

"U-Um, my name is Jon." He stammered out, cursing himself internally for the stutter. He'd always had bad social anxiety, and this very intimidating pre-teen was not helping.

The boy raised an eyebrow and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Okay, Jon. Why are you here?" He scrunched up his nose in distaste. "God, you don't have an appointment with my mother, do you?"

"No! No, I uh..." Jon struggled for the words to say. What exactly could he tell this stranger? 'Oh yeah, my dad wants me to get infected by these ancient Fear gods and your shop gives off the vibe of the last thing that I got marked by. On an unrelated note, you don't happen to have a book claimed by Jurgen Leitner that curses people in some way, do you?' Yeah, like that was going to go over well. At best, he'd get called a creep and kicked out; at worst, he'd end up in the back of a police car.

Before he even tried to say anything, the boy squinted at him as if he was trying to make out something on his face. "You're not here to see my mum, but you definitely aren't normal."

"Thanks, I get that a lot." He responded dryly out of habit, then slapped a hand over his mouth. Instead of getting annoyed with his snark, the stranger barked out a laugh of surprise.

"Alright, kid. What's your deal?"

Just rip the band-aid off, Jon. "Does the name Jurgen Leitner mean anything to you?"

Suddenly, the boy's face darkened. Not into one of anger, however, but fear. "Christ, you're a child. How the hell do you know that name?"

Oh, okay. Maybe he didn't have to tiptoe around the supernatural nonsense of a random author after all. "Ran into one of his books last year." Attempting not to seem nearly as afraid as he felt just thinking about that God-forsaken piece of literature, Jon shrugged. At this, the stranger winced in sympathy.

"And you're still alive? Damn, you're lucky."

"I guess." A flare of guilt balled up in Jon's chest. "I wouldn't be if I hadn't run into this guy, Daniel Thomas. He didn't get so lucky."

"Which book was it?"

"A Guest for Mr. Spider."

The boy in front of him stared at Jon with an unreadable expression. One could almost call it pity. Ha, he didn't even know the half of it. For a few seconds, neither of them said a word.

"Why are you looking for Leitners?" The stranger asked at last, still looking at Jon with that unreadable expression. He cleared his throat nervously.

"Your store. I got the same feeling I did when I'd held that book, and I was just checking-"

"-To see if there was one here?" The other boy finished for him, understanding flashing in his eyes. "Yeah, I get that. Those things are seriously dangerous in the wrong hands."

There was something about the way he said it that made Jon pause. It was one thing to say that these 'Leitners' themselves were dangerous, but he'd said 'in the wrong hands'. Like they could be wielded in some way.

He must have been making a face of some kind, because the boy immediately changed his demeanor. Sticking out his hand, he said, "Jeez, where are my manners. I'm Gerard Keay."

Blinking quizzically, Jon glanced down at the hand being offered to him. The sleeve of Gerard's jacket had slipped down a bit to reveal a drawn-on eye over the inside of his wrist. Hesitantly, he accepted the hand and shook it. "Jonathan.  Jonathan...Bouchard."

Over the past year, he'd toyed with the idea of introducing himself with his mother's last name. Unfortunately, since he was still a minor and his mother was, you know, dead, he figured that would cause a lot of confusion for strangers. The second he said his father's name, however, Gerard's eyebrows furrowed. "Bouchard? Like, Elias Bouchard? Head of the Magnus Institute?" A bead of sweat trailed down Jon's temple.

"Unfortunately, yes. Do you, uh, do you know him?"

"No, but I think my mum does. She's mentioned him before." Before Jon could begin asking questions about what that meant, Gerard turned towards one of the book passage ways and beckoned him to follow. So he did.

The rest of the room was just like the entrance. Rows upon rows of books towered so high they almost reached the ceiling. From where he could see over the stacks, a couple of semi-experienced drawings and paintings lined the walls.

At the end of the makeshift maze was a small alcove that actually looked like a normal bookstore. Casting his eyes up at a small, higher bookshelf behind what he assumed was the check-out desk, Jon's senses started going crazy. Clearly, that was where the Leitner he'd been feeling was, and by the intensity of it, there were multiple. Well, that's great. Always a treat to find multiple horror-spawning books just sitting around in a random bookstore.

Gerard turned to him. "You never answered my question."

"Which one?"

"Why are you looking for Leitners?"

Jon was about to say that he, in fact, had answered that question, but Gerard beat him to it. "You said you could feel them in here, or something like that, but you never said why you decided to actually come in and look for them."

A pause. Well, he couldn't very well say the actual reason; no doubt Gerard would never let him anywhere near them.

But...was that really so horrible?

He didn't want anything to do with those stupid books, or the Fears, or Elias's weird and ominous plan for him. It really wouldn't be the end of the world if he let himself get kicked out.

Still staring silently at him, Gerard crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't look suspicious or angry, just curious. Confused. Like he was trying to dissect Jon's thoughts.

"My father-" He cut himself off and started again. "Elias wants me to get...marked. By each of the Fears. Apparently, he wants to use me for something once I have them all."

Of all the things he was expecting Gerard to do, gently grabbing his shoulders and leading him to a chair off to the side was not in his top ten, or top fifty. Hell, it wasn't even on the list. Instead of kicking him out or yelling at him, Gerard crouched down next to him and patted his knee.

"Well, welcome to the Shitty Eldrich Parents Club, Jon."

As it would appear, he and Gerard got along like a house on fire.

He told him about his mum's murder, Elias's manipulation, and the dubious Grand Plan he had for Jon. In return, Gerard told him about his father's murder, his mum's...peculiarities, and the role she'd cast upon him to enable her.

For the rest of the day, they just talked. Gerard was, as he guessed, eleven and turning twelve in the summer. He learned that the slightly longer hair had started out as a rebellion against his mum - Mary - but he'd ended up taking a liking to it along with a darker wardrobe.

This was probably the first time that Jon had ever had a true friend. He was always a bit too odd for the other kids when he was younger and after his mum's death, those traits were only exemplified.

But Gerard just, got it. The psychotic parents, the crazy Fear stuff, the Leitners. He was just as intertwined with the weird side of the world as Jon was.

For the rest of their Easter holiday, the two of them hung out every day. Some days, it was pretending to hunt for Leitners or other supernatural things to appease their parents. Others, it was just them running around a park, trying to be kids, before ultimately tiring out and spending the rest of the day talking about anything and everything. Their crazy childhoods, what non-haunted books they'd read recently, the Fears.

Gerard was like the older brother Jon had never had. Every time Elias started threatening him or trying to push him into more Fear-related searches, he hid with Gerard. Whenever his mum got a little too...eccentric, he crashed with Jon.

Of course, school started again, and they could no longer see each other every day since they didn't go to the same school. After all, Gerard lived all the way in Morden while Jon lived in London. Even taking the tube took a quarter to an hour to travel between the two cities. Therefore, the boys were confined to occasional weekend trips, when their parents weren't causing them grief.

Jon had dreaded summer break for years. The idea of being forced to be within the vicinity of Elias for such a long period of time was horrific. Of course, he usually went to the library or stayed in his room, but his trips never seemed to last long enough. And staying in his room didn't feel any better than being in the foyer.

This year, though, on the last day before summer break, Jon made the trip down to Morden. It had taken a heavy amount of begging and convincing, but Elias had reluctantly let him leave school early. He was surprised by how 'supportive' the man was of Jon and Gerard's friendship. Obviously, he knew about it. Not super easy to hide from your semi-omniscient father when your friend has an obsession with drawing eyes everywhere. Nevertheless, Elias found his new friend a 'good influence' in the supernatural regard.

"You need more interaction with people associated with the Fears. Especially the Eye." He'd said with a smirk that Jon hadn't appreciated. Still, freaky eye-related powers aside, he was thankful that Elias was willing to not murder Gerard at the first opportunity for daring to interact with him. Jon found he quite liked being around people his age who didn't utterly despise him.

With about an hour before classes let out - to the displeasure of Headmaster Fanning - Elias called him to go home. As soon as his teacher informed him that he would be leaving, he bolted out of the classroom with his hastily-packed things and sprinted for the Northern Line at Charing Cross. He had about ten minutes before classes let out by the time he got to Morden Station, and a few by the time he reached Gerard's school.

Setting down his pack and sitting on the sidewalk opposite the school, Jon waited for the bell to ring. He watched as a small line of cars pulled into the parking lot, including one that seemed a bit familiar, though Jon didn't fuss too hard about it. Likely just a car he'd seen in passing on the road and for some reason remembered. Soon, the shrill sound of the bell carried across the street, and Jon smiled. He grabbed his pack, looked both ways, and jogged across the street to the parking lot. Kids of various ages were already starting to stream out of the building, so he kept his eye out for Gerard's signature black jacket.

His attention was briefly stolen by the sound of a car door closing. Jon turned his head and saw that it was the same car he'd recognized pulling in, but now there was a person standing in front of the driver's door. She looked to be about middle-aged, maybe forties or fifties? Her black hair was short and frizzy and her eyes a familiar washed-out blue.

Although she was looking at the exit, her eyes started to drift to him as she felt him stare at her. Of course, Jon snapped his head away before he could be called out for being rude or creepy, just in time too.

"Jon!?"

A force knocked into him, sending Jon back a couple of steps. Gerard pulled back, grinning in surprise.

"How are you here? You couldn't possibly have gotten from London to Morden in two minutes."

Jon smirked back at him. "Maybe I did. I guess you'll never know, Jared." Gerard scowled at the mispronunciation of his name, but ruffled Jon's hair anyway at the inside joke.

The day after they'd met, Jon had completely forgotten Gerard's name. For some reason, he was convinced that his name was actually Jared and had called him that when they'd met up again. Gerard had, naturally, been very confused. At first he'd thought that Jon was messing with him and brushed it off, but he kept calling him Jared. It wasn't until a couple of days later that he finally corrected him and Jon had been so embarrassed, he accidentally apologized with the name Jared again. Now, Jon would occasionally call him Jared instead of Gerry, just to mess with him.

Gerry was about to crack some kind of joke in retaliation, when he looked up and paled. Slowly turning, Jon saw the same woman he'd been looking at earlier, standing right behind them, and it suddenly hit him why she and her car had looked so familiar.

It also occurred to him that Elias being an all-knowing creep meant that he already knew about his friendship with Gerry. This woman - Mary Keay - did not.

She smiled sweetly, but something about it was twisted. Deranged. "Gerard, who is this?"

"I-I uh-" Gerry stuttered, searching for some kind of excuse or explanation that wouldn't end in Jon getting skinned.

"Jonathan." He said, sticking out his hand politely. "Jonathan Sims."

Mary's smile shifted to something that might have been more friendly than before, if it wasn't also just as upsetting. She accepted his hand and shook it.

"My, what a gentlemen. Pleasure to meet you, Jonathan."

The look on Gerry's face would have made Jon burst into laughter if he wasn't also internally screaming.

"Pleasure to meet you too, ma'am."

"I didn't know my Gerard had made a friend, where did you two meet?"

Gerry opened his mouth to say something, but Jon interrupted him. "The library down by Windermere Avenue." Obviously a lie, but he didn't want to get Gerry in trouble by insinuating that he didn't spend his free time hunting down Leitners.

"Oh, you like books then? I actually run a bookstore, you should come by sometime."

"Yes, I'm quite a bookworm, if I do say so myself."

"I suppose you live nearby then?"

Well, he didn't want to say that he lived in London. Distancing himself as far as possible from the Magnus Institute and Elias was probably his best bet, so he mentally checked for any other feasible place he knew anough about to claim that he lived there.

His mum had told him quite a bit about Bournemouth, after all she'd grown up there. He was already taking her maiden name, might as well claim her hometown as well. "Actually, I live down in Bournemouth."

At this, Mary raised an eyebrow curiously. "Bornemouth? That's quite a ways away. How exactly did you end up in Morden and meet my Gerard?"

Jon could see the boy in question sweating out of the corner of his eye. "My mum has family up here that we went to visit last weekend. I happened to check out the library and run into Gerard."

He had also figured that telling the psycho book-lady that he and her son had known each other for about two months without her knowledge, would not be a good idea.

Nevertheless, Gerry's mother seemed pleased with these answers, but Gerry himself looked like he was going to pop a blood vessel. For the first time since she'd locked eyes on them, Mary looked to her son and all his attention stayed on her.

"Well," She sighed in acceptance. "I was going to drive you home instead of letting you walk, but I'll leave you boys to it. I'm sure you have all kinds of summer plans to go over."

Her lips upturned a bit more than before and reached over to pinch Gerry's cheek. "Make sure you're home by eight, Gerard. Have fun!"

With one last wave, Mary turned, got in her car, and drove off. Once her car was out of sight, Gerry released a large breath he'd been holding in and looked at Jon incredibly.

"Now when the hell did you get so good at lying? Last weekend an old man asked where your parents were,  and you just said 'My mum's dead'!" Jon simply laughed and dragged his friend off the school grounds.

They had a lot of fun that summer. If Jon thought they'd gotten close after only two months, that was nothing compared to how their bond had strengthened over the next few. Being allowed to see each other without the constraints of school and time allowed the two boys to hang out basically every day.

Even though Gerry's mother now knew that Jon, well, existed, he still took care to stay out of their house and Pinhole Books if she was there. The last thing he needed was to get turned into one of her pages on a drying rack.

Things stay good for a while. Sure, Jon was still pretending to search for something to attack him or mark him in some way. And sure, Gerry was still running around, grabbing Leitners wherever he could find them. But they were at least a little happy.

Jon was glad for England's drier weather, but he was still not very appreciative of the heat. For once, the summer humidity had chosen to stay away, at least for a few days. It'd be back and make merely existing absolutely miserable again, but for now, Jon was not happy about the warmth. Especially since he was in a sweater, so he felt like he was dying.

Gerry's eighteenth birthday had just passed, meaning he could now finally move out and away from his mother. He confided that he still felt a bit guilty for being so quick to leave, but Jon just flipped the situation back on him. What if Jon was able to move out, but chose to stay with Elias because he felt 'guilty'? He would have felt bad about the guilt trip if it hadn't gotten him to start looking for flats.

He was heading over to Mary's place now. Gerard had asked that he help him search for suitable flats and his mother was out at Pinhole Books, so now was a good time to come over.

Strolling leisurely along the sidewalk, Jon turned left and was greeted by Gerry's front door. He knocked firmly twice snd waited. It didn't take long for the door to swing open, revealing Gerard in baggy trousers and a hoodie. Jon grimaced.

"Christ, you're wearing that in this weather?"

"You're one to talk, Sweater-Man." Gerard said with an eye roll, side stepping to allow Jon into the flat.

"That's none of your business, Jared." He replied dryly, internally chuckling at his friend's playful scowl. He took off his shoes at the door, wandering down to Gerry's room in his socks.

Gerard's room was very different from the rest of the flat. Posters for different rock bands decorated the walls, as well as a pansexual flag. All of his furniture was badly painted black, even the bed. Next to said bed was a similarly painted desk with a laptop on it, as well as various notebooks and figurines. Both Elias and Mary were pretty old-school. Which of course meant that new technology was devilish and the most they would accept was a desktop PC for convenience.

Jon was a bit ashamed to say it'd rubbed off on him a bit and made navigating some things difficult.

Gerry followed him into the room and plopped down at his desk. His laptop was already open to a flat-renting website. Jon gazed over the various advertisements and Gerard scrolled, until he noticed a bit of a pattern in the locations. Every flat was listed as being located in Oxford, where he'd be moving come fall for college.

"You're looking for a flat in Oxford?" He asked, a bit a hope leaking into his voice.

Gerard smirked, eyes still trained on the screen. "Maybe."

He'd be lying if he said that he wasn't at least a little excited at the thought. The now seven years that they'd been friends had proved that taking a forty-five minute tube just to see each other was very inconvenient. The idea that Gerry was actually looking for flats near him so that they could see each other more often, even while he was at university, was quite heart-warming.

"Speaking of..." Gerry started, still keeping his eyes off of Jon. "What would you say if I asked you to move in with me?"

For a second, Gerry's question didn't register in Jon's brain. Once it clicked, though, his back straightened so fast it hurt.

"What?!"

Gerard was laughing now, finally meeting Jon incredulous gaze. "I asked if you wanted to be flatmates."

"No I-I heard what you said! I just- why- why would you want that?"

The older boy's face fell a bit at Jon's self-deprecation, but answered anyway. "Because, contrary to what you might believe, I like being around you, you idiot." His lips twitched up. "Even if you're annoying and a bit of an arse."

"Excuse you." Jon sniffed with an eye roll, but a smile was stretched across his face so wide, his cheeks hurt. "Are you serious?"

"Of course. Someone has to keep an eye on you while you're at Uni. Who knows what kind of nonsense you'll get up to. I have to make sure you don't go on a drug bender."

"Ha-Ha." He mocked. They both knew that they already had issues with cigarettes. It was something Gerry had picked up a couple of years ago, Jon just happened to snag a few when he wasn't looking and ended up getting hooked. He hadn't been overly fond of the lecture he'd received from both Gerard and Elias.

"I guess I know why you were so insistent I help pick out your flat, then."

They sat down for the next couple of hours, scrolling through various flats, until they landed on one they liked. It was only fifteen minutes walking distance from the University of Oxford, was located in a decent enough area, was fairly priced, and large enough for them both to have their own space. Gerry scheduled a viewing for a couple of days from now, and they just hung out for a few more hours.

When Jon got home, Elias was in the front room, waiting. He was watching the door, obviously knowing when Jon was going to get home. He ducked his head, trying to stay out of his gaze and get to his room, but Elias stood up and blocked off the hallway.

"So, you're planning to move out?" He said, an unreadable smile on his lips.

He swallowed. "I was going to have to do that either way. Oxford isn't exactly close to London."

"I am well aware of that, Jon."

Silence stretched out between them. Jon had no idea what Elias wanted or why he was acting so weird about them moving in together. At that thought, Jon physically scrunched up his nose, causing Elias to raise an eyebrow. Oh, ew. Was his father homophobic on top of everything else? He and Gerard weren't dating, obviously, but still.

Pushing past the man in front of him, Jon went to his room. Elias didn't stop him or put up a fight.

A few days later, he met Gerry at the flat they were touring. A man named Jack Williams introduced himself as the landlord and led them inside. They got through the viewing pretty smoothly. There was one awkward moment towards the beginning where Jack gave them a knowing look and asked how long they'd been together. Basically the second person in the same week that thought they were a thing. While Jon had sputtered, Gerard wrapped an arm around him with a smile and corrected him.

"Sorry, I'm not a pedophile and this kid's basically my little brother."

That had been a tense few minutes while their possibly future landlord refused to look either of them in the eyes.

At least Jack didn't seem like much of an arse. For a landlord. Plus, the flat was just as appealing as it had been online. By the end, they'd mutually agreed that this was the one.

Jack was pleased and led Gerry to his office to work out the lease and payment details. Gerry had chosen to skip Uni, said he didn't see anything for himself there, so he'd started working as soon as he finished year eleven.

While waiting for them to finish wrapping up details, an older woman came out from the door next to theirs. She had to be in her sixties. Long, thick gray hair was pulled up into a tight and neat bun and chocolate brown eyes were covered by a pair a glasses with chains dangling from them. Jon subconsciously adjusted his own glasses, causing enough movement for the woman to notice and look up at him.

Her eyes bore into his and Jon immediately knew that she was connected to the Eye. He could've recognized the feeling he got under her gaze anywhere, he'd endured it for sixteen years, after all. She eventually looked away and shuffled past him, an unreadable expression pressed into her features. It was a Saturday, so Jon figured she was going out for groceries or something similar.

He'll have to keep an eye on this woman once they move in. The last thing he wants to deal with is another Elias in his business twenty-four seven.

'Better not tell Gerry.' He thought. The man would probably think she was spying on him for Elias, or some other nonsense. Not that he'd put it past him, but that kind of paranoid thinking was not helpful.

Not too long later, Gerard and Jack emerged from the office. Of course, Gerry immediately ruffled Jon's hair, ruining it. He glared at him and only got a grin in return.

"Prick."

"Thank you, I do try."

Jack cleared his throat, getting both of their attentions. He reached into his trouser pocket, pulled out two keys, and tossed one to Gerry. Jon held his hand out, palm up, and accepted the second key.

"Well, you guys are welcome to move in whenever, just give me a call." The landlord turned to leave, but Jon stopped him. He was just...curious.

"Oh, I'm sorry, but while I was waiting, a woman left the flat next to ours. I just wanted to know who she was."

The man snorted. "She's your neighbor, kid."

"Well yes, I know that, I just-"

"Jon's a bit socially awkward." Gerard cut in, patting his shoulder. "He likely won't interact with people if he doesn't have to. He's asking you so he doesn't have to ask her."

He cocked to his head to the side, but shrugged. "I know who you're talking about. Gertrude Robinson, older tenant. She's been here for years."

"Thank you, Mr. Williams. We'll likely be moving our stuff in this week, have a nice day."

Finally, Jack turned back to his office and Gerard led Jon out, the two of them heading back to the tube.

Chapter Text

"Do you think our neighbor has an issue with me because she thinks I'm a devil worshipper?" 

Reluctantly, Jon looked up from his book as his flatmate opened the front door.

"And why, pray tell, do you get the impression that Gertrude thinks you worship the devil?"

Gerard stripped off his leather jacket and dumped it on the chair, shrugging. "She's old. Old people see dyed hair - especially black dyed hair - and piercings, and automatically assume they're Satanists."

"Gertrude's aligned with the Eye, Gerry. If she really thought you were a Satanist, she would Know." Gerry rolled his eyes and strode over to the kitchen.

Shaking his head, Jon secured his place and closed the book. The two men had been living together for several months now and were quite well acquainted with the other tenants of the building. Including their neighbor, Gertrude Robinson.

Jon shifted the cardboard box in his arms, attempting to keep it steady while holding the front door open with his foot. Shuffling into the flat, he was about to put the box down, when a voice broke his concentration.

"And who might you young lads be?"

"Ah- shit!" Jon cursed as he dropped the box directly onto his left foot. Thankfully it was just filled with towels, soap, and other toiletries, so nothing was of any danger of breaking. Still, he turned to the door to express his displeasure to whoever had interrupted him, but paused when he saw who it was.

"My apologies," Gertrude drawled in a distinctly non-apologetic voice. "I was just curious about the new neighbors."

Righting his posture, Jon waved a dismissive hand. "It's alright." He picked up the box he'd been carrying and set it on the newly positioned sofa that he and Gerard had not had a fun time getting into the flat. Turning back to the woman still standing in his doorway, Jon strode over to her and stuck out his hand.

"Jonathan. Jonathan Sims." Using his mother's maiden name had become second nature over the years. Without knowing how prevalent Elias was in community of Fears, it was much safer to not associate with him at all. Even more so with Gertrude also being part of the Eye.

Reluctantly, Gertrude accepted his hand and shook it. "Gertrude Robinson, pleasure."

"Jon, can you help me with the- oh!" As if on cue, Gerard turned the corner with a slightly bigger cardboard box in his arms. Jon released Gertrude's hand and grabbed the box from his flatmate, squeezing himself back into the flat. He could hear Gerard addressing their new neighbor from inside.

"You must be Miss Robinson. Jack told us about you." He announced. "Gerard Keay."

"Yes, I am." From the living room, Jon could hear some strain his neighbor's voice. "Gerard Keay, you said?"

Oh shit.

Of course, Jon thought, why wouldn't Mary be just as recognizable as Elias?

"Uhm, yes?" Gerard's voice held some suspicion. Getting recognized was never a good thing when it came to someone Fear related. "Have we met before?"

"Oh, no. I just thought I recognized the name, that's all."

With that, Jon returned to the hallway. "It was very nice to meet you, Miss. Robinson. I'm afraid that Gerry and I still have quite a lot of unpacking to do, though."

Gertrude glanced at Jon, no doubt picking up on the unsubtle attempt to get her to leave. Nevertheless, she simply nodded. "Of course, I'll leave you two to it then." With that, she turned on her heel and went back into her apartment.

Jon let out a breath, before he felt his arm be grabbed and dragged back down the hallway to the lift.

"So, Jon," Gerard's voice strained. "Anything you want to tell me about our neighbor?"

Setting his book on the table, Jon sighed. "No, I don't doubt she thinks that something is going on. However, she has yet to confront us about it and as I see it, unless she does, we ignore her and pretend we know nothing."

He could hear Gerard open the cupboard and grab his coffee grounds, making Jon scrunch his nose in distaste.

Jon had never been one for caffeinated drinks. When he did indulge he usually settled for whiskey, even though he wasn't legally allowed to drink it yet. Elias likely knew and disapproved of the habit he'd picked up during his last year before Uni, but Jon managed to dodge that conversation like a bullet every time.

That was one of the many things that'd changed since he'd moved in with Gerard; no longer needing to sneak around and hide things.

Not that Jon was successful in doing that when he lived in London with Elias, but still. It's the principle of the thing.

"Well, what if she's waiting for us to confront her about it?" Gerard called.

"Then I suppose she'll have to keep waiting. I'd like to avoid anything to do with the Fears for as long as I physically can."

Jon's eyes closed and body subconsciously relaxed at the sound of the coffee maker starting. It was frequently running in their flat, thanks to Gerry's bad habits. For the first couple of weeks, it had really annoyed him. Now it just sounded like home.

The sound of the coffee maker was just one change Jon had gotten aquainted with. Another one that had taken some getting used to was Gerard's taste for....celebrations.

Once the two had finally moved all of their things into the flat, Gerry had insisted they celebrate their newfound freedom by dying their hair. Jon had suggested celebrating by actually unpacking, but was overruled.

In the end, he didn't pick a dye for himself when they went shopping, but he did "help" Gerard with dying his own hair. They'd been sloppy, messy, and laughed way to much for how intricate a process dying hair really was, but they'd had fun. If Gerry's hair had turned out a bit damaged from bleach with some noticeable spots being untouched by the dye, then oh well.

The older man's piercings started to come with what he deemed as big achievements.

Making the first month of rent? A bridge piercing.

Jon finishing his first semester of Uni with flying colors? A lip piercing.

Finally unpacking, buying furniture, and decorating the flat to their liking? An eyebrow, helix, and lobe piercing, respectively.

Whatever he deemed important enough next, Gerard promised he was going to finally get those eyes that he'd been drawing all these years actually tattooed over his joints.

He said that he'd been wanting them since he was a kid. Unfortunately, Elias's nature put a bit of a dent in that for a while as, despite his arsehole nature, Gerry refused to put Jon in a situation that might genuinely harm his mental state, the sap. It was only after some very extensive and sketchy research that they learned that Elias would not be able to watch them through the tattoos. Wards like those were apparently for the Eye, and the Eye alone. Avatars were not privy to knowledge of that extent, not even Elias.

After reassuring his flatmate many, many times that he would not have a breakdown at the mere sight of some eyes, Jon managed to convince Gerry to get the tattoos next time he wanted to do something big.

The last thing he wanted was to stunt his friend's self-expression, not after the years he'd spent with Mary. Besides, Jon had picked up a few hobbies himself since he'd started Uni.

As he continued to relax in his chair, Jon's mind flashed to the small makeup bag in his bathroom, as well the harmonica and microphone under his bed.

The rumble of the coffee maker eventually stopped, shaking Jon from his stupor. Once his flatmate's liquid tar had been properly disposed his favorite black cat mug, he dumped in a few large spoonfuls of sugar and a hefty helping of cream.

Trudging over to the living room and plopping down onto the sofa, Gerard rolled his eyes at the look Jon gave his mug and sipped his drink.

You'd think that someone with his demeanor and style would prefer straight black coffee, as horrible as it is, but no. Gerard's always had a bit of a sweet tooth, even if said sweet tooth caused him to drink liquid cavities on the daily.

"Now, about Gertrude...."

Gerry placed the mug on the table and reached into  his pocket, pulling out a small digital camera.

After powering it up, he turned the camera's small screen to Jon and his breath hitched. It was a picture of Gertrude walking into the Magnus Institute.

"Fantastic." Jon bit out. "Not only is she working for the Eye, she likely works closely with Elias." He was really starting to thank his past foresight to not use Elias' last name when he'd introduced himself.

He paused as he thought for a moment. "Wait, how did you get this picture?" Gerard's easy grin did not reassure him.

"Christ, Gerry. Please tell me you haven't been stalking our neighbor."

"Okay, I won't tell you then."

"Gerard." The very mature adult stuck his tongue out at Jon.

"I also may or may not have discovered that she's been working there since 1965."

Jon balked, still annoyed by his flatmate's half-answers. "Now how in the world did you get access to that information." Gerard smirked, turning off and putting away the camera. "I have my ways."

Leaning back in hia chair, Jon pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a sigh. "Fuck you and your crypticism, Jared. No wonder Gertrude thinks something's wrong with you."

Jon pushed Gerard's indignant squawking to the back of his mind as he mulled over the new information.

Well, their neighbor's employment at the Magnus Institute, unfortunately, wasn't particularly surprising. The place itself was practically a shrine to the Eye, just about every avatar under it's power worked there or had worked there at some point.

And yet...

Gerry took notice of Jon's furrowed brows and paused his tangent. "What? What's wrong?"

"Just....something doesn't add up." Standing up, Jon started to pace. Writing things down normally helped him organize his thoughts, but he didn't have paper on him at the moment.

"Elias is strong in his avatar status, far more than Gertrude. And yet, she is quite a few years his senior." Gerry folded his arms over his chest and quirked an eyebrow. "At the very least, she's definitely been working at the Magnus Institute longer than him."

"But then how would Elias be so much stronger in his abilities than her?"

"I don't know, but that is very concerning." Jon turned back to Gerry. "Do you think it has to do with him being the Head of the Institute? As in, he has a higher position than her so he has more power?"

Gerard shrugged. "I'm not sure it works like that."

"I mean, that's the only option that makes sense. I still feel like I'm missing something, though." Still pacing, Jon's words turned into a mutter.

Speaking his thoughts aloud helped with processing things.

However, he was broken out of his ruminating by the landline ringing.

His flatmate groaned. As technology continued to advance and mobile phones became more popular, Gerard had picked up the switch quite easily. Jon, evidently, had not. At least they knew that almost every call that came through said landline was for him.

Ignoring Gerard's pained rambles about just getting a smartphone, Jon picked it up. "Hello?"

"Hey, Jon!" Georgie's voice echoed through the receiver and Jon smiled.

It had started with Tim, really. A long-haired brunet he'd met in the music theory class he'd taken for his first year humanities. With the first week of classes coming to a close, each person had officially "claimed" their seats across the classroom and, surprise, the desks next to Jon were empty.

That is, until, about a month later.

Jon had already been thoroughly settled into his chair when a man in an overbearing large brown trenchant sat down in the seat on his right.

Blinking slowly as he registered the stranger now sat next to him, Jon was apparently too slow for the man to allow.

He turned to Jon and stuck out his hand with a wide smile. "Name's Tim, Tim Kennedy."

Reluctantly, Jon accepted the hand. "Jonathan Sims."

The man had to be a couple years older than him, likely a third year. What he was doing in a music theory class, though, was still in question.

"You a fan of music, then?"

"Well, I can't deny the appeal. Mostly I just needed a humanities class and this seemed like the least horrible option."

Tim threw his head back in a cackle at that, and it was a cackle. Wiping a fake tear from his eye, Tim started talking with him. And they did, in fact, talk. For the first time in years, Jon actually managed to hold an enjoyable conversation with someone other than Gerry.

It continued like that for a few weeks. Tim would sit on his right and they'd talk about whatever until class ended.

Jon learned that his name was actually Jordan, but he preferred using his middle name, Tim. He learned that Tim was taking this class so late because he had wrangled some friends together to start a band. Jon also attempted to ignore the look of hope the man gave him after saying that their lead singer, Carmilla, had left.

The two actually got on quite well and after a month of these classroom chats, Tim invited him to go to lunch with the rest of his friends.

Instinctively, Jon wanted to say no.

He was by no means a people person and just because he got on with Tim did not mean he was going to be able to wrangle his personality enough to appeal to a group of strangers.

Well, not total strangers. Tim had told Jon enough stories for him to feel like he knew them at least a little. The point still stands.

However, instead of immediately brushing him off and never speaking to the man again, Jon said he'd think about it.

Poor Gerard got to listen to him rant and rave that night over how horribly it could go and why it was a terrible idea. He also got to smack Jon upside the head and tell him that if he didn't say yes, he'd force him to try and hold a conversation with their neighbor, Gertrude. Jon, of course, chose the former.

It was only after telling Tim that he accepted his invitation that he realized that he wouldn't get to agonize over his outfit and started to panic.

He didn't get much time to do that either as he got dragged away by Tim right after class.

Sat at a table in a cafe nearby the University were Tim's friends; Basira, Ivy, Rachel, Marius, Brian, Jessica, and Nastya. However, their other friend, Carmilla, was on a trip to America.

Honestly, it had gone really well. They all had such distinct personalities, but Jon had especially bonded with Nastya.

He thought there was going to be an awkward moment when he said that he didn't actually own a mobile phone, but they all just gave him their phone numbers so he could call whenever.

Jon has since considered saving up for a personal phone. He is resoundingly ignoring the fact that he himself has no means of getting money in the first place.

A few days after his little meet-up, Jon got a call from a number he didn't recognize.

"Hello! This is Jon, right?" A female voice sounded from the phone.

"Yes?"

"Oh, fantastic! Pardon my manners, I'm Georgie, a friend of Tim's." There a shuffling on the other end of the phone and what sounded like a cat's meow. "He said you'd already met his future band mates and I was quite insulted that he hadn't introduced me to the recluse in his music theory class."

Jon bristled a bit at her description of him, but it didn't sound like it'd been made maliciously. Besides, it was an...accurate descriptor, if nothing else.

"Ah, well, pleasure to meet you, Georgie." He replied curtly, feeling very uncomfortable meeting someone for the first time over the phone of all things.

"I know it's a Saturday, but do you wanna meet up at Dirty Bones around twelve and chat?"

Frantically, Jon leaned over to look at the time. Eleven twenty-eight. Glancing down at the baggy hoodie and comfortable short-shorts he was wearing, Jon cursed internally.

"Uhm- Yes! Yes-Yes, of course."

"Brilliant! See you there." Jon could hear the smile on her face through the receiver as she hung up. Christ.

After a very scrambled attempt at looking presentable - aka his standard sweater vest and jeans combo - Jon made it to Dusty Bones at eleven fifty-four.

"Oh- Jon!"

He turned his head and saw a woman sitting at a table by the window. 'That must be Georgie.' He thought.

When he went to sit down, he paused as he saw the incredibly small ball of fluff in her arms.

Noticing his distracted demeanor, Georgie giggled. "This little cutie is The Admiral. He's one of the kittens from my cousin's cat, barely able to leave his mum now."

Jon's face must have been seriously aw-struck as Georgie only laughed harder when she looked back at him. 

"Just wanted to bring him to make sure you weren't sketchy. I don't trust anyone who doesn't like cats."

"As you should, The Admiral is clearly a fantastic judge of character."

Keeping up the appearance of a normal person was hard when there was an ball of cat right in front of you. Needless to say, Jon was very good friends with Georgie now.

"Jon- Jon! You still there?"

His head snapped up. "Y-Yes, Georgie. Sorry, got distracted by something."

That was an unfortunate habit that Jon was starting to pick up; zoning out in his thoughts. Obviously there was nothing inherently wrong with thinking - God knows that not enough people do that - but it's very inconvenient when you're trying to pay attention to a lecture or talk with your friends.

"I was just calling to ask about The Mechanisms, are you guys still going to go through with that?" A squealing noise of excitement caused Jon to pull the phone away from his ear before making a shushing noise.

"Shhhhh! I haven't mentioned that to Gerard yet." He whisper-shouted.

The man in question must have heard his name because he raised an eyebrow in Jon's direction.

"Right, right. Oh, this is so exciting." Georgie sighed. "I don't suppose you're going to give me any hint or spoilers for your upcoming performance?"

"Of course not, you'll see our debut for the first time with everyone else."

She groaned loudly in exasperation. "Whatever, I guess I'll manage to wait another week. Somehow."

"I'm glad you're excited, Georgie. I hope we don't disappoint."

"You could never disappoint me, Jon." A small, shy smile spread over Jon's face. That was another small development, he and Georgie have started to get a bit...closer than the others.

"No, of course not." Silence stretched out for a moment before Georgie spoke again.

"I'll see you tomorrow for lunch, then? Or do you have plans with Tim and the gang?"

"No, I should be free. Not Tuesday, though. Nastya is dragging me back to her place for some Nintendo game she's been getting addicted to."

She barked out a laugh. "Of course she is, alright then. See you, Jon."

"Bye, Georgie." Click.

Turning back to his flatmate, Jon decided to ignore the small smirk that had graced his features. Unfortunately, Gerard did not.

"Sooooo, how's Georgie, huh?"

"Shut up, Jared." Jon's mispronunciation of Gerry's name did nothing to deter him, though.

"Oh come on, Jon. When are you gonna ask her out."

Jon heaved a sigh and plopped down onto the sofa, leaning his head back. "I'll have you know that we ask each other out all the time."

"You know that's not what I mean." Gerard scoffed.

"Can we drop it?"

"Sure, sure."

Silence filled the flat, but despite their minute squabble, it wasn't tense. Struck by his conversation with Georgie, Jon immediately sat up again. Fuck.

Ever since Tim had managed to convince Jon to be the lead singer for their band - a feat that he himself still didn't know how the brunet had done - they'd been planning their first show. Marius and Ivy were swarmed with work in their Uni classes, so they would not be able to participate, but were still part of the planning and writing.

They'd booked their show at a local pub for the upcoming Saturday and Jon was planning on getting Gerry to go. Without telling him that Jon was part of the show.

Contrary to popular opinion, he does love a good prank.

"Uh- Jon? Are you o-?"

"You wanna go out on Saturday?" Jon asked, cutting Gerry off.

The man in question looked very confused. "I-sure? Are you okay though?"

"Yeah, I just remembered that I was going to ask you. There's this new band I've been meaning to check out playing at the pub down the street and wanted you to come with?"

"Awww, of course, Jonny." Gerry says with a smirk, though Jon resolutely pretends that the man's eyes aren't filled with fondness.

"Don't call me that, Jared."

"Then stop calling me Jared. You know my name, Jon."

"No."

"Wh-! What do you mean 'No'?!" Jon tossed his head back in laughter at the indignation on Gerard's face.

Seeing Jon's obvious glee, he only grumbled and reached over to aggressively ruffle his hair. Jon squawked in annoyance, swatting his flatmate's hand away.

The rest of the week passed without incident. Jon's lunch with Georgie involved many pictures of The Admiral, attempts at extracting information about Saturday's show, and overall discussions about their teachers and classes.

Georgie was studying English, but was a bit concerned recently with one of her medical student friends, Alex. Apparently she was getting a bit paranoid about something happening in one of the buildings on their campus. He really didn't want to assume, but Jon was starting to get paranoid that something Fear related was afoot.

In other news, his outing with Nastya had gone brilliantly as well. That is, if you counted Jon getting shoved around violently for winning every Mario Kart round despite having never played before.

Come on, he can't be horrendous at handling all technology. Before he knew it though, Saturday had arrived.

Gathering all of his make-up, tech, and costume pieces, Jon closed the door to his room.

"You go on ahead, Gerry. I'll meet you there." He called out. The raven-haired man's footsteps grew closer.

"What? Why can't we just go together?"

"Oh! I, uh, I just need some more time getting ready and don't want you to have to wait!" Jon lied through his teeth as he started to change his shirt.

"That's some bullshit, Jon. You know I don't mind waiting on you." Gerard huffed through the door, leaning on it absent-mindedly.

As he wrestled with the brown vest that went over top his white button-up, Jon internally swore. "No, no, I insist, Gerry. I want to make sure you get good seats!"

"Jon-" Just as Gerard was about to continue arguing, Jon heard an intake of breath through the door, followed by a wheezing laugh.

"Ohhhh, I know what this is." Gerard choked out through his laughs. "You're getting yourself all dolled up because Georgie's going to be there and you don't want me to embarrass you!"

Heat rose to Jon's cheeks. That was absolutely not the impression he wanted his flatmate to have. But, if it gets him going...

"Fine! You caught me Gerry." Jon bemoaned as he slipped into his black trousers and grabbed his belt. "So what if I'm trying to make a good impression on one of my friends?"

"Uh huh, sure." He could still hear Gerard snickering from the other side of the door. "Alright, I guess I'll just get to the pub early so I can tell Georgie all~ about how much effort you're going through to get ready for her."

Jon looked at the clock. Half-an-hour before he's supposed to be on stage, shit.

"Ahaha, please don't." He choked out as he struggled with his boots. Christ, and he still has to do his make-up.

"Don't worry, I won't embarrass you too much, Jon." Gerard's voice started to fade as he headed to the front door. "Make sure to hurry though!"

With that final message, the front door opened and slammed shut, signaling Jon to bolt to the bathroom with his make-up.

It probably says something about Britain that Jon was able to travel through the underground fully decked out in his Jonny d'Ville costume with a micro and harmonica without getting a single reaction from anyone.

By the time he got to the pub, there were four minutes until he had to be in stage. Sneaking around the back and trying desperately to avoid the last few patrons heading inside, Jon got to the back door. As soon as he was inside, he was bombarded by a panicked Nastya grabbing him by the shoulders.

"Where the fuck have you been?! We're on in a few minutes, do you have your gear? Are you in costume, do you need-" She was cut off by Tim putting a hand on her shoulder and pulling her back a bit to give Jon some breathing room.

On instinct, Jon's eyes wandered to the corner of the back room where a clock on the wall showed the time. Two minutes.

He cleared his throat and pulled his gear into the room. "Sorry for the delay, I didn't have any excuse for Gerard to get ready early and I had to wait for him to leave before I could do my make-up." Jon sheepishly ran a hand through his hair, making sure not to mess up the styling he did.

Tim waved a hand dismissively and grinned. "Hey, it's all good. Let's just get on stage, you're ready right?"

Jon nodded in confirmation.

Tilting his head towards the cutained stage where Jessica, Rachel, Brian, and Basira were already set up and doing some final tunings to their instruments, Tim motioned for them to get going before calling out to the stage, "One minute everybody!"

Jon rushed over and got his mic set up before mentally running through his opening and the set list, Nastya getting into position nearby.

This was going to be the Mechanisms debut, their first performance of their completed album Once Upon A Time....In Space.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" The speaker overhead blared to the obstructed audience. "St. Hilda's College Bar is proud to present the debut performance of The Mechanisms!"

And with that introduction, the cutains opened.

Gerard had no clue where Jon was. Sure, he'd teased him multiple times that he was going to be late to the performance that he wanted to see, but he hadn't been serious. But now, six minutes out from the start of the show, and there was still no sign of Jon. Sighing, Gerard started to scan the crowd for his flatmate or, if he could find her, Georgie. He hadn't been one-hundred percent joking when he said he'd tell her about Jon's insistence on looking good for her at a debut concert of all things.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gerard saw the familiar dark brown hair of Georgie Barker and atarted wading through the crowd to get to her.

"Georgie!" He called from a few feet beside her. The brunette turned at the sound of her name and lit up in recognition when she saw him.

"Gerard!" She replied and opened her arms for a hug, which he gladly accepted. Obviously he wasn't as familiar with Georgie as Jon was, but she'd been over to their flat a few times to hang out and they'd gotten on pretty well.

Pulling back, a smirk spilt Gerard's face as he began to dramatically complain about his flatmate's absence.

"Apologies for Jon's tardiness, he's just been soooo  anal about his appearance today." He sighed, a twinkle in his eye. "I don't know what's gotten into him."

Gerard expected a fee different reactions; a blush, a smile, general confusion. What he did not expect was for Georgie to match his expression with her own mischievous smirk.

"Oh, I think I might have an inkling." She giggled.

With a raised eyebrow, Gerard was about to ask if she knew something that he didn't - if the two of them had started dating and Jon didn't tell him, the police will never find the body - when the speaker overhead began.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! St. Hilda's College Bar is proud to present the debut performance of The Mechanisms!"

The lights dimmed slightly as the curtains parted to reveal Gerard's flatmate, Jon.

Up on stage, he was fiddling with his microphone for a good while - an older one with a cord that he held like a walkie-talkie - while a man to his right in a long brown coat rolled his eyes.

"Can we get on with it, Jonny? I'm afraid the mortals will keel over before we even get to do our introductions!" The man spoke with a grainy, annoyed voice, gripping an acoustic guitar.

Turning his attention back to his flatmate, Gerard took in Jon's outfit. A white button-up covered by a brown vest with black fingerless gloves, arms bands, trousers, and belted ankle boots, not to mention the goggles resting on top of his slightly mussed hair. His make-up was smokey with black eyeliner drawn away from his eyes in lightning patterns. It was absolutely not something he thought he'd ever see Jon wear, but here he was, wearing it on stage for dozens of people to see.

Behind the moustached person on Jon's left was a woman holding a bass guitar, who snickered at the man in the brown coats whining.

"Oh c'mon, Tim. We've got plenty of ways to bring someone back if they were to drop dead on us."

Having finished messing with his microphone, Jon was now looking between the man and the woman, expression bored. "Are you two finished? I'd like to get on with this before one of these mortals actually dies of boredom." The two nodded with smirks and adjusted their guitars while Jon turned back to the audience.

"Well, I suppose if any of them do drop, it'd really be doing this planet a favor." He drawled with hooded eyes. "I mean really.....this planet has produced some fabulously ugly people."

With his insult, the crowd exploded into laughter that both Georgie and Gerard joined. As the laughter quieted, the woman with the bass guitar started to play a quiet tune that we other instruments joined in on before going silent as Jon addressed the crowd.

"Killers and vagabonds, liars and thieves, we are The Mechanisms!" He announced, throwing his arm not holding his microphone into the air. "A band of immortal space pirates roaming through the Universe on the Starship, Aurora; having fun where possible,  violence where necessary, and if we're very lucky, both at the same time." More laughter followed each part of the man's little speech, none louder than Gerard.

Jon gestured to the other members behind him. "Now, a moment of self-indulgence to introduce you to our crew:"

He turned to the man in the brown coat and shouted his introduction in a gruff voice. "First of all, Gunpowder Tim, our Master at Arms!"

Now, energy building, to the woman with the bass guitar. "Ashes O'Reilly, our Quartermaster from the monster planet, Malone!"

Then, he turned to the man holding a banjo behind Gunpowder Tim. "Drumbot Brian, who is not currently playing the drums," Jon snarked into the microphone, only to be flipped off by the man he'd just introduced, earning more laughter and cheers from the audience. "Our Pilot!"

Next, he turned woman behind him with angel wings on her back and standing behind a piano, a slightly softer tone entering his voice. "Now onto one of our newer members, Raphaella la Cognizi, our Science Officer! She is as cruel and brutal as she is....science!" Jon gestured dramatically.

Gesturing to another person to the right of Tim, he continued. "Nastya Rasputina, our Engineer!"

Quickly, Nastya ran over and grabbed Jon's microphone put of his hand. "And girlfriend of our Starship, Aurora!" She added before handing the mic back to Jon and running back to her spot, ignoring the scrunched and horrified look of disgust on his face.

Into the mic, he simply whispered, "Ew." Before shaking himself from his stupor.

Lastly, he turned to the moustached person to his left. "Of course, we have The Toy Soldier who is....present!"

Returning his gaze to the crowd, Jon called out his own introduced. "And last - but most certainly not least - myself, Jonny d'Ville!" He growled out with excitement, bending himself into an open stage bow. "Your humble captain."

"First mate!" Tim called out smugly, earning a middle finger for his troubles.

"And together, we are, The Mechanisms!"

Once the makeshift concert concluded, Jon took a gasping breath. No matter how much they practiced, it would definitely take some getting used to performing for so long in front of a crowd.

Before he could truly get his bearings, the rest of the band were jumping up and down and cheering, clapping each other on the back, and hugging despite the sweat that dripped off of them from the combination costumes and lights. Tim practically jumped on Jon from behind.

"Christ, Jon! You did fantastic!"

A manic smile of exhaustion split his lips. It'd been a lot of hard work preparing for and writing this album, not to mention the hours of character development they all spent on their roles. Hours of practice every day, dozens of scrapped songs and music sheets, hundreds of energy drinks that Jon reluctantly drank to keep himself going, no matter how horrible they tasted.

But it'd all been worth it to hear the roar of the crowd, even if it was only a couple hundred people crammed into a University pub. As soon as he looked out at all the people, Jon had desperately searched for Gerard and Georgie. It had warmed his heart to see them enjoy themselves and hear them cheer the loudest of all.

Looking around at the rest of the band, Jon felt a warmth in his heart. Brian panting and leaning on a giggling, delusional Rachel. Nastya, Jessica, and Basira in a group hug. Tim draped across his back in an awkward, sweaty, loose hug. And he'd never felt more at home.

"We all did, Tim. We all did."