Chapter Text
Skizz called a casual farewell through the slit in the apartment’s entryway.
He had no real fear of waking anyone up. Tango was working late as usual, and knowing Gemstone, she wasn’t sleeping. It had been years since she’d sought comfort after a nightmare, but every so often she would come to breakfast with a lack of light in her eyes that suggested the return of unpleasant things the previous night.
Impulse barely managed to reply before Skizz snapped the door closed.
He couldn’t help but grin at the amount of paperwork his brother was stuck with at the moment, and at the fact he didn’t have to help with a single bit of it.
Lights above each apartment accompanied Skizz as he sped his way down several flights of steps, each heavy footfall reverberating around in the mostly-empty nighttime air.
Him and Impulse had considered moving to an actual house (they certainly had the money after all). But every time it was brought up, none of them voted to leave their apartment. Gem had grown up there, and the others really didn’t mind the situation. They lived close to the school, their family, their jobs, it was practically the perfect spot.
Whistling some random tune, Skizz got out his keys, swinging them around on his finger as he walked. The car’s lights flashed as he unlocked it with a button, though even without them, it was easy to locate his car.
Trusty Gluegun stood out clearly against all the other solid-colored cars; the gold police insignia painted on the side a shining beacon to its owner.
He patted the hood as he approached, smiling.
“Ready for another late night, buddeh?” A few of his coworkers at the station had mentioned it was a bit strange that he liked talking to inanimate objects. But none of them had a car as cool as his.
He turned the key in the ignition. The engine spluttered a few times before going out. He sighed, trying again, this time proving successful. He made a mental note to call a mechanic. Or maybe he could just ask Joel, the kid seemed to know a thing or two.
He pulled out of the parking lot and into town. The bright lights of the city were soon replaced by solitary street lamps, and the well maintained road changed to a slightly bumpier one.
The road where he was stationed wasn’t big, as far as he knew, it really only led to some farms out west. And was mostly used for shipping things to and from the city. Doubly, since that type of stuff tended to happen during the day, there usually wasn’t much traffic around this time.
He leaned his head back on the headrest and stared out at only trees, grass and pavement. The lamp placed nearby illuminated an immediate circle of dirt and grasses, leaving everything else an inky black.
Skizz had taken just a few seconds to close his eyes (just a few! He was obviously nowhere near sleeping!), when a car finally sped down the road.
Its headlights announced what would otherwise be an almost invisible vehicle. Though even without the radar, he could clearly see it was going well above the speed limit.
As it passed, Skizz startled from his seat, before firing up the lights and barreling after it.
He waited patiently as they slowed and pulled to the side of the road. As he got out he adopted his ‘I’m a super terrifying cop’ look. putting on shades and folding his arms in front of him, all scary like.
He never did this with any sort of intent to harm. Skizz was often referred to as one of the nicest people on the planet, though he did have a fondness for messing with people. The trait having somehow survived his teenage and adult years, despite everything.
By the time he’d reached the rear of the car, the window had been rolled down.
Skizz noted with disgust the CrimSpark logo on the side of the car. His brothers still worked at the company, but he could never fully bring himself to reconcile with the place.
“Do you have any idea how fast you were going?” Skizz leaned down, negating the height difference between him and the window. He had to forcibly hold back a smile upon seeing the guy’s face, internally thanking his high school theater classes for the ability.
The driver face flashed with something akin to the look of a horror movie protagonist, before snapping back into the calm he usually gave off. He seemed to be shying away from Skizz. One hand stayed clutching the steering wheel and the other sprung to cover his mouth, despite the fact that he already had a mask overtop of it. His hair seemed to have become even whiter since the last time Skizz had seen him, the lack of color now almost reaching past his ears. The other three brothers—including Skizz himself—had been seeing similar results in their own hair. Not the regular silver of old age, but a bone white, with nary a transition in between.
“Oh, hey Skizz.” Despite his fairly pleasant tone, Etho’s hands had turned white from gripping the steering wheel.
Skizz was suddenly reminded of a similar night, years and years ago. It was hard to remember much of it, considering he’d been extremely drunk at the time, but he could at least clearly see a much younger Etho staring disapprovingly back at him.
It was insane to realize how much had changed since then.
“What? Not happy to see me?” Skizz joked, nodding to Etho’s bone white-knuckles.
Etho jolted a bit, immediately relaxing his grip. “No, no, it’s fine, it’s good to see you.”
There was clearly something odd in his brother’s voice, past just the regular tiredness one would expect from being out this late. “Etho? What’s going on, buddeh?”
“Nothing, everything’s fine.” Etho’s voice came out strained, as if he were trying desperately to hold in a cough.
“Nuh uh, homie, I’m not gonna let you get away with that. What’s up dude?”
“I’m just tired.”
Skizz would give him that, he definitely looked exhausted.
“What, are those bozos over at CrimSpark making you work late again?”
Etho nodded, taking to the excuse like a moth to a lantern.
“At like, one in the morning? Really?” Skizz raised one incredulous eyebrow.
He knew that Etho’s hours at the company sucked, especially with his brother’s particular position. But he hadn’t been aware they’d been making him drive around while it was still dark out. With how deep the shadows under his eyes were, Skizz wondered faintly if he had gotten any sleep at all.
Etho shifted, clearly growing more uncomfortable under his brother’s gaze. “Yeah, just a… it’s just a business meeting. You know how they are.” He turned his head, now looking out the front window, his goal clearly being to avoid eye contact. Skizz tried not to feel hurt at the gesture.
“Etho.” Etho glanced up. “Buddy, you gotta stop letting them do this to you, man.”
Etho turned away completely, staring at his reflection in the driver’s side window, in what seemed to be a mix of shame and fear. Jokes on him, it was a mirror, Skizz could still see his face.
“And you know you can’t lie to me dude, I know you too well.”
Etho tensed, his knuckles turning to the bright white they’d been earlier, and shoulders squaring. “I’m not lying.”
Skizz raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond. Etho remained silent.
“Well lying or not, you’re clearly nervous about something-”
“-I can’t tell you. it’s-” To most people Etho would’ve sounded calm. To Skizz it sounded like he was barely holding back tears. “It’s confidential.”
Skizz leaned forward to look at Etho better through the car window, but Etho refused to look him in the eyes, determinedly staring at the windshield.
“what if I just promise not to tell anyone?” Skizz asked, only half joking. He could see that Etho had begun to grow fidgety.
Skizz sighed, “Look, if you aren’t going to tell me—“
Etho interrupted, turning back to look up at Skizz, his eyes pleading. “Can I ask for a favor?”
Skizz stood for a moment, confused. “I… Yeah, of course, but—”
“Will you-” Etho paused, his gaze flicking to the road ahead before it went back to his brother. “Tell Cleo and the boys that I love them.”
nearly every single alarm bell in Skizz’s head went off. A million scenarios went through his mind, not a single one of them very pleasant. He pulled back from the car, alarmed, searching his brother’s face for some type of sign this was just a sick joke.
“Etho? what’s—”
Skizz unfortunately didn’t notice his mistake in time. Him taking a step away from the vehicle had left it almost completely uninhibited. The car was still on, so all Etho needed to do was put it into drive. Etho immediately seized upon the opportunity as soon as Skizz was out of rage, slamming down the gas pedal and spurring up a large cloud of dust behind.
Skizz cursed and sprinted to Gluegun, not bothering with the siren this time. His headlights caught on the car ahead as he sped down the road. As much as Skizz hated to admit it, Gluegun was losing.
With each passing second Etho got further and further away, until only a few minutes into the chase, he was just gone. Skizz continued for another half a mile or so before finally giving up.
It was dark, hopelessly so, and Etho’s car was black, allowing for easy camouflage. The best course of action would then be to cut him off. This particular road didn’t have many offshoots for a while, not until Summerville, which housed several portals to the Crimspark factories in the Nether. The town was mostly populated by the workers and their families, but they did have their own police force, so contacting them was the best option he could think of at the moment.
Skizz hesitantly turned his car around, beginning the drive back to the station, calling in for a replacement and summarizing the situation through his radio as he did so.
The city’s sudden lights were a bit blinding at first after being in near complete darkness for so long, but he quickly got used to them.
The police station was fairly average sized, he supposed. It had two floors, though neither were particularly large. Very few windows overlooked the parking lot, most being on the top floor. Which made the faint feeling that he was being watched all the more unsettling.
Skizz pulled into an empty space, stopping just over the yellow line. Something that normally would have annoyed Skizz, but this time he didn’t seem to notice it, getting out and walking purposefully towards the front entrance.
”Wellcome to- Oh, hello Skizz!” The receptionist waved a greeting. Skizz gave a smile as he walked past, though in his head he knew that it probably didn’t look very genuine at the moment.
The chief’s office was upstairs. He felt as if it was possibly overkill to go directly to him, as Skizz barely knew what was going on himself. But Skizz knew people, and this felt like the type of situation that called for some overkill.
Voices could be heard from inside, one Skizz recognized as the Chief of police and one he didn’t. Not uncommon, as this was a police station.
He knocked on the door, exactly how he did when visiting family. Skizz smiled at the reminder of a much younger Bdubs throwing the front door open and running out to greet him. He then dizzy at the realization that that had been at least ten years prior.
The office door opened and Skizz was able to put a face to the unfamiliar voice he’d heard.
She seemed to only be in her early twenties. A little older than Gem, but certainly much younger than Skizz himself. She looked vagely familiar—though Skizz couldn’t place from where— with a dark blue jacket and light brown hair streaked through with even lighter blonde highlights.
Chief Gerard on the other hand was much older, and had probably been working at the station longer than Skizz had been alive. His appearance screamed authority, but his mannerisms had always given the impression of a kind fatherly figure that Skizz had come to appreciate deeply.
“Thank you for your time sir. Sorry again about bothering you.” The woman apologized, slinging a grey, moon-themed backpack onto her shoulders and flashing a smile at the chief.
Her accent seemed odd. Skizz wasn’t sure if he’d heard it before, though it wasn’t completely unfamiliar.
“Happy to help. You’re welcome to come by anytime.” He stuck his hand out for a brief handshake which she reciprocated.
As she left, she pulled out her phone and began excitedly speaking to someone on the other end.
Skizz nodded after her. “Who was that?”
“Some independent journalist,” Chief Gerard shrugged, “had some questions about a past investigation.”
“I see.” Skizz nodded slowly.
”Now what were you here for son?” The chief asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh! right. There was a bit of an incident while I was out on patrol sir.”
The chief nodded, gesturing for them both to step into his office; Once the door was closed and both men seated, he nodded for Skizz to continue.
“I’m sure you know of my brother.” Skizz started.
“I know of your brothers, but you do have three, son, you’ve got to be more specific.” Gerard replied, settilng back into his high-backed chair.
“Etho.”
“Ah.”
There was a shift in the air at the mention of Etho’s name, and Skizz became vaguely aware of something strange in the Chief’s tone. It felt wise to tread cautiously, though he wasn’t quite sure why.
“Sir, I pulled him over for speeding, but while I was questioning him, he just seemed… off? when I asked him about it, he wouldn’t give me a straight answer. He managed to drive away and I lost him.” The chair squeaked as Skizz shifted positions. “I know that’s not much to go off, but please believe me when I say that I know people. especially my own brother. Etho was either up to something, or he’s in danger. If we send it out soon, we can let Summerville know-”
“-Officer.” His tone was off. He was choosing his words very carefully. “Don’t worry. The company contacted me earlier, they just need him for a few weeks for a project.” The Chief shrugged. “He’s probably just worried about being away from his family for so long.”
The chief laughed, but it felt fake. “He’ll be back.”
Skizz tried not to let his outright suspicion show. Why did the company feel the need to contact one of the local chiefs of police about Etho’s whereabouts? Was he really that important? Skizz knew his brother was certainly in the public eye quite a lot, but when had it gotten to this point?
More notably, the explanation still didn’t explain the sheer amount of fear that had been present in Etho’s face.
Searching the chief’s own features offered no answers, that man had always been ridiculously good at hiding his feelings sometimes. Though his eyes did suggest he was telling the truth, or at least part of it.
They stared for a minute more before Chief Gerard nodded to the door, back to his regular fatherly self.
“Now son, if you don't have anything else, I've got some paperwork to get done.”
Skizz obliged. Making his way to the exit.
“Officer Taylor?”
Skizz turned, hand frozen on the door knob.
The chief’s face had become deadly serious. “Don’t worry about where he’s gone. Etho’s in good hands.”
Skizz nodded, sharp and quick, hoping that was true.