This might date me for future readers, but hello from the COVID-19 quarantine! I genuinely hope everybody is staying healthy & safe. To all of you who have been or still are dealing with the craziness of online school, I'm right there with you.
But hey, what better way to make it through these wild & dark times than to finally hammer out another chapter for everyone to read?
GoldGuardian2418: Thanks for the review & the encouragement! College has been a very busy & exciting time, so hopefully quarantine means I'll be able to stock pile chapters for later.
Tmntf4ever: Thank you SO MUCH for your love of Ciaran (I love him too) and for saying this work fits in with the movie! NBC has such a strange, earnest, and timeless vibe that is so hard to capture, but if y'all are happy, I'm happy.
Cullenlingus: Welcome back to Fanfiction! This story, once completed (it will be I SWEAR) will be uploaded to AO3 after I sit down & do some heavy editing (which luckily has already started!). Frankly, I'm amazed people make it past this version of the first chapter. But thank you so much for your support & I hope you continue to enjoy this work!
Corona Pax: Third act is officially in motion with this! Believe it or not this work WILL end, and I can't wait to see what Annalise & your cast does with the world we've created.
Mutant Kitty: If anything, I'm late to the party! Poor Anton indeed...but I'm so glad you like Jack & Ivy's banter! Jack is SO much easier for me to write now, god bless.
Agnlo: I'm attached to this story & I'm dragging everybody through the years & updates with me. Thanks for the love!
Guest: Thank you for all your reviews! I'll take your suggestions into consideration and can't thank you enough for your love of this story!
Tilly Northman: Jack's handbook and his constant messing of Ivy's hair is an adorable trait that I wrote entirely for my own self-satisfaction! You could probably take a shot for every time Jack messes with Ivy's hair and have the making of a fun evening. (Note to self: Post Tricked Out drinking game on the Tumblr...)
Gre3leaf: As Corona Pax & I were discussing the other day, these stories are so far removed from the NBC movie that I'm glad it can be enjoyed without having watched the movie! Thanks for reviewing and loving the relationship between Jack & Ivy- it's some of my favorite stuff to write.
On with the show!
December 13
Sindelfingen, Stuttgart
5:33pm
The wind was absent, letting the harsh bite of the winter air take center stage. Cars beeped in the Stau forming on the nearby highways, and there was the rattle of the train in the distance. The sun shone brightly, without a hint of the relentless heat that had the kids of the skatepark silently wondering if the Americans had the right idea about air conditioning.
Bezata stood alone at the top of the Dip, her board resting loosely against her hip. Though she'd already checked at the start of the day, she flipped her board around and double-checked the tightening of the wheel and bolts, anxiety easing slightly when everything was in order.
"God, do you keep having to make a point of doing that?" Came a voice that caused Bezata's heart to seize. She paused and glanced down to see Ben at the base of the Dip, coat collar held up tightly between his long fingers, staring up at her.
She knew what Ivy would say if she were in her position- something sharp but teasing, something like what's this, Ben voluntarily seeking me out? What's the occasion? And Ben would laugh in his beautiful way, head thrown back and curls falling in his face-
But she wasn't Ivy Kunze, and had no desire to pretend. So instead she held the board under her arm and called, "What's going on? Alles in Ordnung?"
"Dodgers just called a meeting," Ben said, already turning his back on her. "Probably about the hat evidence. Just get in there."
Bezata climbed down the ramp and followed, heart sinking.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The employees of Dodger's skate park huddled in the break room, smelling of sweat and cigarettes as they crowded into the cramped space. Bezata watched as Ben hoisted himself onto the counter, concealing the shaking in his hands with a Snapple bottle, his long fingers tearing at the wrapping. He caught her eye and frowned, looking away sharply, and Bezata sighed and wrapped her cardigan closer around her shoulders.
"What're we doing here anyway?" One boy asked, fiddling with the edge of his muscle tank. "The indoor ramps need to be cleaned up after those kids yakked all over them yesterday-"
"God, don't remind me-"
"Is it because of the storm?" Another asked, absently peeling a sticker from the wall. "I heard they had to shut down some of den Weihnachtsmarkt stands because of the wind."
"Doch, since when has Dodgers given a shit about the weather, ja?"
"Nobody pushed the panic button again, did they?"
"We have a panic button?"
The door slammed open and Dodgers stalked in, a scarf matching his dark blue eyes wrapped around his throat and shoulders. The teens instantly fell silent in a mix of fear and respect, tracking the movement of the man's awkward gait and the ashes that dripped from his cigarette. He stood before them and took a drag, seeming to calm himself, pushing the rims of his glasses up a crooked nose. He blew out the smoke, crossed his arms, and spoke.
"As some of you may know," Dodgers began, his voice low and dangerous, "our old friend Kunze vanished a while ago. Nothing new. But with the lack of any contact and a rather interesting discovery from Detectives Abendroth and Pfeiffer-" he turned his gaze to Bezata and Ben, who winced and tried to melt into the cabinets. "-they've found a blood sample, and the charge has been changed from runaway to potential kidnapping."
There was a general rustle, and Bezata tried not to grit her teeth at the worry on her co-workers' faces, even as a cold stone settled in her stomach.
"Uh, Herr Richter?" A new employee asked, timidly raising her hand. "What...what does this have to do with us?"
The cigarette in Dodgers' hand bent in two.
"It means," Dodgers all but growled, "that since she was here the day she vanished, we are about to be under severe investigation from those boys playing soldiers. Anybody who saw her or knows anything had better tell them what they want to hear."
"But that's not fair!" Bezata protested, trying very hard to not think of Ivy skating into the woods. "They're not even our police! Where's the polizei? We haven't even done anything!"
"Have you been living under a rock, Abendroth?" Dodgers snapped. "You don't think, perhaps, the fact that I am a Turk who lived in Poland under the Soviets would interest them? The Wall fell barely a year ago, they haven't forgotten."
Bezata shut her mouth.
"She spends her time here, is last seen here, her bloody hat is found in my rental shop-"
"Doch, Herr, her brother had it!"
"And that damn kid won't talk to confirm that; parents have already said it was never in their home." Dodgers took another long drag. "The point is, we may be looking at a week or two week suspension. Without pay, mind you, not that you lot ever do enough to get paid anyway."
The majority of the kids knew better than to grumble, and the few that did took one look into Dodger's eyes and shut up.
"Why won't they just let the polizei investigate?" The first boy asked tentatively.
"How am I supposed to know?" Dodgers snorted. "They'll scarcely tell us why they're here in the first place. 'Keeping an eye on things', what scheiße."
Bezata fought the urge to bite her fingernails, feeling the phantom sensation of her mother's perfectly manicured hands slapping it down. She cast her eyes around the room, seeing the others whose families came from the East shift their weight uneasily.
"But you just lived there!" Ben argued, cocking his head at Dodger. "Surely they would-"
"Use common sense? That's asking a lot." Dodgers sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "This isn't about that. Just...be smart when they visit, don't try and be an ass, or else."
Mummers of agreement shifted through the room, and Bezata bit her lip, meeting Ben's gaze. For once the older boy didn't bother with hostility, his eyes sharing the same nerves and worry Bezata could no longer deny she shared.
xxxxxxxxx
"Eins nach Kirchheim. Nächste Station: Vaihingen. Abstieg in fahrtrichtung links."
The S-bahn chugged steadily along, Bezata clinging to the germ-covered pole (jacket sleeve covering her hand, of course,) and glancing at the scenery through the frosted windows, hearing an accordion player begin playing at the far end of the car. Her gaze flickered up to see the large 'keine akkordeons!' sign and smiled softly.
The train car beeped angrily and she hastily stepped off, ducking a flock of pigeons fighting over a bit of pretzel as the lights from the Pullman hotel shone down on the station. The station was empty, just a few adults mulling around smoking as she ascended the stone steps, absently kicking a beer bottle before caving and putting it in a glass recycle can. She paused at the edge of town, gripping the straps of her purse as she looked into the dark of the forest where Kunze had ridden off into.
The street was abandoned, with only a stray black cat slinking its way through the trees. Bezata swore the thing made eye contact with her before it-
No. Cats didn't roll their eyes. Right?
Bezata blinked and the animal was gone, the hairs on the back of her head rising from the eerie atmosphere and the wind suddenly blowing down the road, nearly knocking her off her feet. She stumbled away from the tree line, and the wind seemed to die down.
"Weird," she muttered, more to break the silence than anything. She turned her back on the woods and walked towards her house, not hearing the sigh of relief that followed her.
It was a freezing day without the wind, hardly aided by the slowly sinking sun, and Bezata wrapped her scarf tighter around her face. The U-Bahn beeped cheerfully at her as it glided down the street, blowing a puff of hot, gasoline scented air in her face. Bezata gagged, yanking the scarf down and wincing at the dry bite of the air.
Oh, well. At least she was warmer.
She chose the long trek through the town, Vaihingen lighting up as the darkness crept in, the church bells ringing 1600. She hovered outside the Schwaben-Galerie, Christmas lights swaying slightly in the wind, toying with the idea of getting a gelato from inside the mall.
Her mother's voice seemed to pipe up instantly inside her mind. Those disgusting, sugar-filled things? Forget your health, it'll get all over your fingers and clothes!
Bezata sighed and kept walking, ducking around a group of older boys on their way to the cinema, beer bottles dangling in their fingers. One winked at Bezata, who flushed and walked faster, ignoring the harsh laughter from behind her.
The pub door of the Auld Rouge to her left swung open, a group of American teenagers shouting excitedly to each other as they pulled their jackets on and pushed their way down the stairs.
"See you on karaoke night!" one of them yelled, backing into Bezata. "Oh, shit, sorry- I mean, uh...ent-shul-de-gone?"
Close enough, Bezata sighed to herself. "No problem."
"Hey, hey, do you know where the nearest bus stop is? I don't have to go all the way down to Schillerplatz, do I?"
"Come on, we can just walk to base at this point! Forget the bus!" One of them retorted. Bezata hovered awkwardly, unsure if she was still needed.
"Dude, that's like, an hour!"
"You're so over dramatic; it's literally 15 minutes."
It would seem she'd been forgotten. Bezata huffed out an unnecessary 'bye' to the squabbling group, grateful to turn off the main road to her street.
Bezata paused outside the small gate, narrowing her eyes at her house's exterior. Her mother often expressed distaste that German builders simply wouldn't create the sprawling, monstrously sized houses she'd seen in the United States, though privately Bezata thought the last thing they needed was more space to fill. That didn't stop her mother from trying to make the building seem as glamorous as possible, however. Though there had yet to be any actual snow, her mother had apparently taken the time to hang snowflakes in the windows, and the lawn maintained its usual crisp uniformity despite the plunging temperatures. Bezata looked longingly at the yard across the street with dozens of plants and even a vegetable garden ("Weeds defacing the neighborhood," her mother had sniffed,) before deciding to bite the bullet and walk inside.
"Bezata! Take off your-"
Bezata held up the shoes that she'd slipped off on the porch, her nose wrinkling at the too-strong smell of Christmas candles and pine cones her mother had 'artfully' scattered around. "Already got it, Mama."
The woman stood behind the white marble island counter, stirring what smelled like soup on a spotless stove top. The whole foyer & kitchen were in a similar state- space perfection, only a few pictures of Bezata and her mother tastefully hung on the walls. The walls and furniture were stark white and grey, with no hint of personality or color aside from the small plants hanging from the ceiling. A glass cabinet near the window held Bezata's skating medals and trophies, and Bezata tried not to ignore the anxiety the gleaming metal gave her. The whole place looked like it had just stepped from the Home & Garden magazines Bezata knew her mother stored in a place of honor beside her bed. It was classic, it was just so, it was modern, it was clean.
She hated it.
"Put your Hausschuhe on," her mother chided, narrowing her eyes at Bezata's socked feet. "And I hope you remembered to brush the dirt off you before coming in!"
"Yes, Mama," Bezata said dully, shoving the slippers on and putting her sneakers in their bin, hiding the dirty shoes from sight. Taking off her jacket and making sure it hung neatly on its hook, she fiddled with the straps of her purse, eyes darting to the trophy cabinet once more.
Bezata took a deep breath and walked over to the counter, careful not to slouch on them. "Dodgers says we're going to be investigated, since the Americans think Kunze's been kidnapped."
Her mother raised an eyebrow. "Investigated? By the polizei or those American monkeys?"
"Weiß nicht- maybe both? Dodgers thinks mostly the Americans, though."
Bezata's mother clucked her tongue, red glasses catching the light as she finally looked at her daughter. "They look very nice in those uniforms, but I can't think of anything they've done to help us."
Bezata grimaced, thankful her mother never had regular contact with the American men. "They're not here for us, Mama."
"Maybe you should take time off from that park," her mother suggested casually, stirring the pot. "We can't have it getting around that you're mixed up in polizei business, with that Ossi running things, no less."
"Mama, you like Dodgers!" Bezata protested before she could stop herself. "And I can't just...quit."
"Doesn't matter how well we get along, you've got to keep an eye on leute like him, dear. And it's been a while since you've won anything- you remember our deal, right?" Her tone was light and sugary, but Bezata had lived with her mother long enough to hear the steely threat lying beneath the words.
"There's a competition next month, Mama," Bezata said desperately, trying not to let the panic leak into her voice. "I'll win it, Mama, I promise, just please don't make me quit, I won't even talk to the polizei, just-"
"Alright, alright," her mother said, pointing the spoon at Bezata. "Watch your tone, dear. You can keep wasting your time at that Ossi-filled park if you can show something for it next month."
Bezata nodded, keeping her mouth shut. "May I go?"
"Dinner will be ready in an hour," her mother dismissed, smiling gently in a way that made Bezata's chest burn. "It's Galosch! It was colder today than usual, so I thought you might like it."
It was her favorite. In times like this, Bezata hated how hard it was to stay angry at her mother.
"Danke, Mama," she said, sprinting up the stairs to her room, trying not to look around upstairs. In comparison to the floor below, it was somehow worse. Gone was the bizarre paradox of minimalist extravaganza. Instead the hallway was pathetically bare, without even a carpet across the hardwood. Bezata glared at the closed doors, knowing they hid rooms packed with boxes her mother had never sorted through in their frequent moves from house to house, filled with things she'd kept from Bezata's dad. The walls were an ugly color with holes in the plaster.
Bezata wedged her door open and flopped onto her bed, feeling the mattress sink deeper than it already was. None of Bezata's awards were in her room- her mother had scoffed and said, "how would people see them up here? You think they're going to come up?"
The house was empty and quiet.
Bezata pushed herself up and stared out the window, eyes slowly staring at the tree line once more. Maybe Kunze would skate out any minute now, laughing at the great joke she'd pulled once again. And Bezata would be angry, so angry, and she could push down the relief and guilt she'd feel.
The sun set behind the trees as Bezata lost herself in her thoughts, weighing the odds of telling someone what she'd seen. If she told the polizei, her mother would force her to stop working- maybe skating all together. Dodgers? He might fire her- he hadn't been the same ever since Ivy'd been kicked out of the park. Bezata gripped her windowsill, eyes darting to her wrist that still jutted at an odd angle, and the patches of skin on her arms that had never fully healed. It wasn't fair.
"You better come back, Kunze," Bezata mumbled. "So I can go back to not caring about you."
The shadows in her room grew as she lay there motionless, twilight setting in. She could feel herself falling asleep, her body heavy as reality stretched around her-
-and then she was asleep.
Right?
Except. This looked like the skatepark. That wasn't too odd, except...wait, since when did she dream?
Reality shifted, and Bezata became aware.
She was lying down on the concrete at the bottom of the Dip, her muscles stiff and sore. Bezata rolled onto her back, blinked lazily, and screamed.
"Kunze?"
"Oh, hell no, not you!"
Bezata pushed herself up, scrambling backwards. The park solidified around the two and Bezata could feel herself panicking. Dreams weren't supposed to be this realistic, were they?
It was undoubtedly Kunze, but- not. Her hair was shorter, for one- messily chopped just below her chin. Her clothes looked like they were made of something else entirely, and a coat with an ivy leaf pattern that Bezata definitely knew she didn't own. But it went beyond the physical- her whole stance was different, the way she stood- but not the way she spoke.
Well, except for the more pronounced American accent to her words.
"This is just perfect," the Kunze-lookalike spat, pacing angrily. "One goddamn shot at this and I get you."
"I- I'm- this is a dream," Bezata stammered, though she wasn't sure why her brain had concocted this image of Kunze. "Right?"
"Nightmare, actually," Kunze muttered, stalking over to where she lay. "I was looking for Anton, using some sleep paralysis to get into his dream, but ooohhh nooo, that would be too easy."
"Why- why am I dreaming about you?" Bezata wondered, pushing herself to her feet.
"Yours was just the first dreamscape I could get into," Kunze said, squaring up in front of Bezata. "Just my luck, too. First the human tax, then the Brew, now this! The Entity is going to wake up any second and send my ass to the second- wait, no, first- grave!"
"Why do you keep talking like that?"
Kunze snorted, raising one unimpressed eyebrow. "Lay off, I've only spoken English for the past month. Guess I should thank you for forcing me to speak German, otherwise this place would probably take it like everything else." She cocked her head, as though deep in through. "Though it's kinda easier to remember stuff in here. Neat!"
"Wait- you're actually here?" Bezata cried. She stepped forward and pushed Kunze's shoulder, finger hitting the solid flesh. "But- you've been missing! Lars had a dream about you...wait-"
"God, you always were slow," Kunze moaned. "Lars was an accident; I wasn't even trying to contact him. I was trying to get to Anton this time so I can help him out, but-"
"Help him?" Bezata said, her brain finally beginning to grasp that this was something important- and...real. "Kunze, what the hell is going on? Where are you? What's happening?"
"None of your goddamn business." Kunze turned around, coat flapping wildly, and Bezata was struck with instinctual understanding that if Kunze left now, she'd never hear from her again.
"It's my business when Dodgers is getting investigated!" She yelled, her slow-to-rise anger beginning to kindle. "It's my business when nobody's heard from you, when everyone talks about you, when I have to feel guilty for being the last one to see you, when I have to watch your precious brother have a meltdown over your bloody hat!"
For the first time, Kunze's own anger seemed to halt, a look of confusion on her face as one hand flew up to her head. "My hat?...oh, Devil take you, Marvel-" she stopped and breathed in deeply. "Forget about it. What's this shit about you feeling guilty? Who cares about how you feel?"
"At least I feel some guilt," Bezata snapped.
Ivy's gaze hardened. "And why should I?"
Bezata bit her tongue to keep from screaming. "Just- are you alive?"
"Jury's out on that one," Kunze seemed to joke, fingers flitting to her pulse in a practiced motion. "I'm pretty sure I am, despite the, quite frankly numerous attempts to make me otherwise."
"So- you did get kidnapped?"
Kunze frowned. "Kidnapped? The hell you on about?"
Bezata squeezed her fists together. "The Americans think you were kidnapped," she said, slowly and carefully. "Kunze, nobody's heard from you."
"Why do you think I'm doing this?" Kunze yelled, waving her hands around the skatepark. "They told me I was stuck, that I couldn't get back until next Halloween and hell, maybe that's true but they didn't tell me any way that I could contact my family! I don't think they even wanted me to remember that I had a family!"
"Who?" Bezata asked desperately. "Where are you? Who has you? How- how do I know you're real? How do I know you're not making this up, too?"
Kunze dug her hands into her short hair and growled, and the hairs on the back of Bezata's head stood up. She looked past the other girl to the edges of the skatepark, head cocking in confusion when, instead of the rental shack, an eerie looking black manor (that certainly wasn't up to code, Bezata thought hysterically) began to form.
"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," Kunze admitted, her shoulders drooping. "I fell through a door on Halloween night in the woods, but the door's probably long gone by now." She looked up, and Bezata swore for a second she saw something red flash through her eyes. "Ok, how about this? We skated together when we were little. Dodgers would pair us up, try to make us work together. Your mom hated that."
"You didn't like it either," Bezata muttered before she could stop herself.
Kunze's face tightened but she visibly held her tongue, lips pressing together.
Feeling slightly bolder, Bezata added, "and anyway, that doesn't tell me anything new. What's something only Kunze would know?"
"God, Bezata, we never were close enough to have any secrets!" Kunze groaned. "It's not like I can- SHIT!"
Kunze's body convulsed, and she dropped to her knees as though she'd been punched in the stomach. Gasping, the girl twitched and clawed at the air around her before a green light surrounded her and the pain seemed to ease. Bezata rushed forward, dropping to her own knees.
"Are you ok? What's going on? Is that-"
Kunze shoved her hands away, and the retort on Bezata's tongue died away as Kunze lifted her face, scratch marks appearing down the sides of her cheek.
"Looks like Ammuttadori is waking up," she groaned, pushing herself up. "Knew that thing wouldn't last long."
"Who's-"
"Don't bother."
Kunze met her eyes and Bezata felt her anxiety rising as the other girl- or what was left- took her in, something cruel bringing light to her eyes.
"You hate your mom," Kunze laughed, even as her body shuddered once more. "You never told me that, but we could all see it. She uses you, man. Living through you, taking whatever you win for herself-"
"I don't hate her; it's not like that," Bezata cried, shaking her head. "She's- she just wants to make sure I make something of myself!"
"Yeah, 'cause she couldn't. Half the park knows about your little deal with her. God, do you even like skating, or do you just do it to piss her off?"
"I love it," Bezata hissed. "I want to do it, so I do, even if I have to convince my mother to let me." Something fell into place in her own mind, and ice ran through her veins. "If- if you knew about my deal with her, and how she acts when I lose, then- then you know why I had to win! And you still-"
"That's the way of it," Ivy grinned, black blood on her teeth. "Jack's skull, this thing knows how to throw a punch."
Bezata's question died away as the park shuddered, throwing both girls to their sides. Bezata pushed herself up and saw the Dip had cracked and eroded, the forest at the edge growing darker, with branches stretching menacingly towards the sky. The smooth pavement was replaced with cracked cobblestone, a strange green goo leaking from in between the stones. Houses and shacks began to materialize around the pair, complete with a swinging black gate that creaked menacingly. A strong breeze knocked her back down to her elbows, and Bezata gaped at the flurry of bats that swarmed the strange manor, a full moon shining down with a grinning shadow of a smile forming on the bottom.
"What the hell is going on?" Bezata all but screamed, alternating between pinching and repeatedly smacking herself on the arm.
"It's Halloween!" Kunze yelled, somehow staggering to her feet. "Did the Entity open a Gateway or something?"
Bezata's heart beat faster than it ever had in her life, and she did her best not to scream in frustration. "What do you mean, Halloween?"
Kunze stumbled over and grasped Bezata's arm, painfully yanking her up and back towards the ruined Dip, pressing her against the shattered concrete with one arm across her throat.
"Like the Holiday, you idiot," Kunze spat. "Ok, here's the Cliffsnotes version in case I can't do this again: Halloween is some sort of alternative reality that I found in a tree. I've been stuck here for the past month or whatever, it's full of monsters who are pretty scary but also giant nerds, like this 8-foot skeleton I've been living with, and I've been losing my memories of the Human World. Anton's apparently being stalked by a naked invisible dude, for what reason I don't know, my body's currently under attack from an angry dream demon, if my Irish priest ghost friend isn't covering my ass anymore. Got it?"
Bezata let out a helpless, desperately confused noise.
"Tell my parents I'm not dead," Kunze said, the harsh look on her face melting away to something soft that Bezata had never seen directed her way. "I'll get back somehow, I promise- I'll force that damn door open if I have to."
"O- okay," Bezata said shakily, ready to agree to anything to let this madness end. "I will."
"Oh, uh, thanks," Kunze said, somewhat awkwardly. "That was easier than I...look, Bezata, about before, I-"
The world lurched, and Bezata screamed as a crack ripped its way through the center of the Dip, an enormous, black, burnt skeletal hand forcing its way through, its fingers digging into the ground. A head emerged soon after, the face formless with only glowing red eyes that shone down at the two girls huddled in the shadow of the Dip.
"Well, you wanted to know who Ammuttadori was," Kunze muttered as Bezata suffered a mild heart attack.
"IVY KUNZE," the 40-foot-tall Entity roared, black cloak whipping in the wind as it pointed one long finger down at the girl. "YOU HAVE INTERFERED WITH THE PRODUCTION OF NIGHTMARES AND VIOLATED THE OATH OF SECRECY-"
"Technically, I never took that Oath!" Kunze yelled back, far bolder than Bezata thought she had any right to be. As the Entity screamed (a horrible sound like tearing metal that had Bezata curling into a small ball), Kunze forced Bezata's chin up, one hand raised.
"I've wanted to do this for ages," Kunze grinned maniacally, and Bezata's eyes finally registered glimmers of brown and red dancing across her palm, and something crawling and shifting and bubbling below Kunze's skin. "Time for you to wake up!"
And as the Entity reached for the two of them, Ivy Kunze slapped Bezata full across the face, knocking her from the nightmare world of shadows-
-reality tilted and spun, accepting the anomaly-
-and she landed on the floor of her bedroom.
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For a moment, Bezata simply lay there, gasping and trembling. She slowly pushed herself up, fumbling for the glasses that had slipped off her face as she slept. She pushed her sweaty bangs from her face, diving towards her bedside lamp and clicking it on, body relaxing minutely as the room was illuminated with a soft glow.
What- what the hell was that?
Bezata pulled her knees close to her chest and tried to fight off a panic attack. Ok, so clearly, she was stressed if she was having those kinds of nightmares, but there was no way it was real- monsters? Halloween? Kunze in some sort of supernatural danger? It couldn't be real. The thought was somewhat comforting as she lifted her head up, taking a long breath before turning her head to rest her cheek against her- ow.
Bezata froze, then scrambled to her mirror. No no no no nononono-
A large handprint decorated the side of her face, and Bezata's eyes rolled back in her head as she passed out.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Hours Earlier
Halloween Town
"Ciaran? CIARAN!"
The Wind was going crazy, but hadn't spoken to her yet. Ivy wasn't sure if the formless entity knew what had happened in the bookshop, but she wasn't about to take any chances.
She pushed the rock aside and dove into Ciaran's cave, graceful landing of the week before abandoned in favor of a clumsy collapse, kicking up dirt in her wake. The ghost appeared, eyes wide as his transparent form flickered.
"Ivy?" He cried, cautiously approaching. "What's going on-"
Ivy shook her head frantically, trying to kick the fog from her mind. She grabbed the wrist of the ghost, cutting him off as she pressed Ciaran's palm to her forehead.
"Bring my memory back!" She snapped, squeezing her eyes shut. "Last few hours or so, 'Keer, back it up! I can't forget-"
"Ivy!" Ciaran forced his hand from her head, taking her shoulders instead and kneeling in front of her, looking into her now wide eyes. "Take a breath, my dear."
"I, I c-can't," Ivy gasped, smoothing the paper over and over in her hands, assuring herself it was still there. "Eve-everything's gone to shit, Ciaran!"
"Alright," Ciaran soothed, thumbs rubbing circles in her shoulders. "I will fix it, whatever it is, alright, leanbh? But I can't help you unless you tell me what's wrong."
Ivy nodded, chest still hurting from her frantic breaths. "Ple-please just refresh my memory," she begged, feeling desperate tears burn the edges of her eyes. "I don't, I don't wanna forget, I can't, p-please I, just, just-"
One of Ciaran's hands slid to the back of her neck and gently pressed their foreheads together, and Ivy's eyes slid shut once more. "Breath, Ivy," he said again. "Humour me a moment, will you?"
Ivy nodded, not trusting her voice to break. She took a shaky but deep breath, spurred on by Ciaran's quiet "Excellent!" and slowly let it out. When she breathed in again, she swore Ciaran breathed with her, and she saw his green glow even through her closed eyelids. Something tugged deep within her stomach, and her head spun for a moment. When she exhaled it seemed her strength went out as well, and her head fell forward onto Ciaran's shoulder, which seemed much more solid now. Dizziness and exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, but Ciaran's cold hand on her forehead and the subsequent rush of memories jolted her awake. She jerked at the influx, but Ciaran kept his arms locked around her, holding her against him as she sank to her knees. Ivy took a few more steadying breaths, letting Ciaran's calming green glow wash over her.
"Better?" Ciaran murmured, one hand smoothing over her back.
Ivy nodded mutely and pulled herself from Ciaran's embrace, forcing herself to look at the (now solid) ghost, even as her eyelashes glued themselves together with tears. Ciaran clicked his tongue and swept his thumb under her eyes, and it spoke to Ivy's exhaustion that she let him.
"There's monsters around my brother," she admitted, hating the shakiness in her voice even if the hysteria had been drained. "He's been trying to contact me, and they- they knew and didn't tell me!" The betrayal settled coldly in her stomach as she unfurled the message, shoving it in the ghost's face. "It's a code we use, I know it's from him! He's asking for help, but I don't know with what! I've gotta-" she gasped- "I've gotta go home, 'Keer!"
"Alright," the ghost said carefully, ignoring the nickname as his eyes scanned the paper. "I agree. We must either get you there or find some way for you to contact your brother."
Ivy tried not to collapse in sheer relief that Ciaran was willing to help her. "Maybe I can try to get through a Gateway."
Ciaran frowned. "Didn't you say only Citizens could do that?"
"Can't be," Ivy muttered. "I mean, hell, you got through, right?"
Ciaran's face closed off. "And it was one of the worst things I've ever experienced," he said, his voice unusually dark. "And not to mention, I had that witch with me- perhaps you need a member of the Town to go with you."
"Was she a Citizen?" Ivy asked, grateful to push down her panic with a new puzzle. She pulled herself fully from Ciaran's grasp, tucking her arms behind her back as she paced the small cave. "Maybe you can come with me!"
"To the Human World?"
"Yeah!" Ivy bounced on the balls of her feet, rushing back to seize the ghost's shoulders. "If you come with me, that's the Halloween element I need. You were alive when you went through the Gateway, and you were alive when you came out of it! It's possible!"
Ciaran seemed nervous, eyes flickering across the cave. "What- what would I do in the Human World, Ivy? I have no doubt it has changed tremendously since I walked upon it. Perhaps...it is not the place for me anymore."
"And here is?" Ivy argued. "Ciaran, you hate this place. You're not a Monster, you're nothing like them." She stubbornly pushed away the image of Jack's face pinched with concern in the same way Ciaran's would. "I don't know what you'd do, but I could help you. You've done so much for me; I can't leave without you."
She scrubbed her face with her hands, and a small smile tugged at the edges of Ciaran's mouth, his face back to neutral by the time Ivy looked up.
"C'mon, Ciaran, we have to at least try," she begged.
Ciaran sighed but finally nodded. "You do not know if it will work," he began.
"I definitely know it won't if we don't try," Ivy countered, just as stubborn.
"Very well." Ciaran floated to his full height, gazing down at her. "You'll have to find the Gateway, though."
Ivy nodded, gesturing for Ciaran to move the rock. The ghost waved his hand and did so, and Ivy tried to ignore the laws of physics shattering as she put her foot in Ciaran's hands, allowing herself to be boosted back into the outside world. As she rolled the rock back into place, Ciaran materialized behind her.
The air was deathly still, without even the faintest breeze. The hairs on the back of Ivy's neck stood on end.
"We've gotta hurry." She grabbed Ciaran's wrist and dove deeper into the trees, leaping over roots blocking the path, peering through the thick darkness of the Forbidden Forest.
"Ivy, careful!" Ciaran hissed. "The Veil isn't far from here!"
Ivy paused. "Wait, the Veil? Are you serious?"
"Yes," the ghost responded terse. "Surely you can find a Gateway around here, we needn't get too close."
"Are you kidding? This is our chance to get a look at what's really going on!"
Ivy dropped Ciaran's wrist and bolted forwards, ignoring the ghost's hiss of "Wait!". She leapt over a rock, ducked under a tree branch, and-
She stopped.
There was nothing in front of her- just more trees, the odd unassuming plant. But the instinct she'd slowly learned to listen to was screaming at her to freeze.
She felt Ciaran approach from behind, the familiar green glow casting odd reflections on the air in front of her.
"...is there something here I'm not seeing?" Ivy asked tentatively. "'Cause you sound like you're about to lose it, and I'm not seeing anything."
"You're not looking," Ciaran snapped. "And there's no need for you to, now let us leave here before what's on the other side sees us!"
"What, like the demons?"
"Precisely like that, and beyond!"
Ivy took a small step forward, hand slowly rising up. "There's something familiar feeling about this, Ciaran...are you sure I can't-"
Ciaran grasped her wrist and snaked an arm around her waist, hauling her back from the shimmering air. "Take my word for it," he snapped, "you would be better off avoiding this area altogether!"
But there was no need to take his word for it, because the moment the ghost made contact with her Ivy's senses exploded.
The Void lived up to the name- the forest in front of her was gone, replaced by a gaping black mist, with patches of white and green acting as holes. The space where Ivy'd been standing held remnants of her usual colors, slowly disintegrating into the mist.
And then there were the noises.
It sounded as though they were in the middle of a gale, the gaping emptiness creating some impossibly horrible sound in the vacuum, accompanied by screaming metal and something that reminded Ivy of when Anton would drag his fork across glass and microphone feedback and dogs howling and god it just kept going
And now Ivy could see that the Veil was in tatters, almost bleeding from the destroyed patches. And in that space- where she could peer through the Veil to the other side-
The dark colors vanished with a snap as Ciaran let go of her, the world returning to its usual dullness. Ivy scrambled back, eyes fixed on the faintly glimmering air where she knew the Veil lay. Her ears were ringing, her throat stung as though she'd been screaming-
And there was Ciaran again, hands out like he wanted to touch her but held himself back. "Ivy!" He yelled, his voice sounding as though it were underwater. "What happened? What did you see?"
"Nothi-"
"What did you see?"
For a terrifying instant, Ciaran's face split. Gone was the usual kind demeanor, and instead stood the horrific image Ivy had nearly forgotten about when she'd first met him: yellow skin strips fluttering in the wind, an eyeball dangling from a bleeding socket, Ciaran's usually earnest gaze reduced to one rolling iris. She could see through his throat, the claw marks were so horrific and why did they move like he was breathing-
Ivy pushed herself back against a tree trunk, fighting the urge to throw up as Ciaran's burnt hands dug into his rotting skull, where she could see the flesh tear and squish beneath his clawed fingers. The ghost sank to his knees, form transparent once more as that other him flickered, twisting madly before vanishing until Ciaran was a harmless looking ghost once more.
Ivy didn't move.
Ciaran looked up, not breathing (he'd lost that habit long ago, she supposes) but shaking, his eyes back in their sockets with the usual brown color pleading at her.
"Ivy…" he reached up, hand stretching towards her, and Ivy tried to push her feet back, a bolt of dark satisfaction shooting through her when Ciaran's face crumpled, and his hand froze. "Please, leanbh, I mean you no harm."
Ivy let out a breathless laugh, bordering on hysterical. "You want me to look at, at, at whatever that was and expect me to buy that?"
"I told you," the ghost pressed, patient demeanor soured by the undercurrent of desperation in his voice. "Those creatures, Ivy, they tore me to shreds. One does not die a pretty death here!" He gave his own hysterical laugh, digging the large palms of his hands into his eyes. "I do not let what they have done to me define me and thus I refuse to let that form haunt my eternal days but this place…" he broke off into what sounded like a sob, curls and shoulders shaking. "It is always there, beneath my skin- I cannot shake it completely- and when I look at this Veil, the utter absence of anything, be it Heaven or Hell or anything in between...such a facade becomes difficult to maintain."
It struck Ivy, with sudden alarm, that there was still no Wind, yet the trees still shook and an unfriendly chill crept down her spine. She swallowed and pushed herself away from the tree trunk, rising to her own knees in front of the ghost, still huddled against the ground. Her back was to the Veil and despite the growing temptation within her, she finally knew better than to turn around.
"Ciaran?" She whispered, trying to pull the ghost from the dark pit his mind has sunk into. "Ciaran, look at me."
There was another strange shudder, and the ghost's light flared a deep, angry green, but his head slowly raised until his eyes met hers- brown and sorrowful and so old it seemed every passing century had etched themselves onto his irises, like rings on a tree.
"I'm-" she swallowed, words rarely used clogging up her throat. "I'm sorry," she said finally, dropping her gaze. "I've seen some, well, some messed up shit, and even if I got scared by you & the others I shouldn't-'' she broke off, frustrated. Ciaran remained blessedly silent. Ivy crept her hand towards him, but the ghost shook his head, nodding wordlessly at the Veil over Ivy's shoulder. "You're not going to hurt me, right?" she said, because one could never be sure in Halloween.
Ciaran's gaze was firm. "I intend to save you from this place, Ivy," he answered. "To prevent your fate from having the horrid conclusion mine did." He gave a thin smile, one curl dangling in front of his eyes. "It would be a shame for such a young lass as yourself to go in such a way."
His green glow grew then, stretching over and mixing with Ivy's own, and her body reflexively relaxed at the sensation of safety. "Hey, I'm not that young!" she protested teasingly. "16 now, remember?"
The ghost raised an eyebrow. "Even in life, I would have been nearly sixteen years your senior," he responded haughtily. "And if you should care to add in the afterlife-"
"I wouldn't, actually-"
"Let's see, over 400 years-"
"Oh, come on."
"In comparison to all of sixteen, you're right, not young at all-"
"I get it! I get it!"
Ciaran opened his mouth, eyes lightened once more, but Ivy took the opportunity to shove at his shoulder- her hand went through, but the ghost allowed himself to rock with the motion, his usual smile returned.
"You're only gonna hear me say this once," Ivy muttered. "But you were right, I shouldn't have gone running over here. So, let's bounce, ok?"
Ciaran's brow furrowed.
"Let's get the hell out of here," she amended, getting to her feet and bolting through the trees, eager to leave the Veil behind.
"I can endorse that course of action," Ciaran agreed, form quietly floating beside her. "But, Ivy, do I have your word that you will not investigate this part of the realm again?"
"Doubt I could find it," Ivy grumbled, not looking at the ghost. "Now, about that Gateway plan-"
Ciaran's hand made contact with her upper arm, and the subsequent rush of dizziness and lapse of energy shut her up. The sounds were still there, but muffled, though Ivy tried not to wince at the screams echoing from the dark of the forest.
"Please, I need your vow," Ciaran insisted, green glow powerful and form slowly filling in the more Ivy breathed. "I cannot bear to expose you to the Veil and the inhabitants of the Other Side, so once more: Do not return. Understand?"
Mouth dry, Ivy nodded, then forced herself to speak when Ciaran's eyes narrowed. "Ok, OK! I promise or vow or whatever. I'll leave this place alone."
Ciaran softened once more, hand releasing her arm to pat her cheek. "Thank you. That's all I ask."
"Whatever," Ivy shrugged, twisting her head from Ciaran's grasp and feeling grateful when the world stopped spinning. "Let's go find a proper Gateway, huh?"
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
On the Stoop of Skellington Manor
At the same time
"Jack!"
The skeleton in question turned, his jovial smile slipping away as he saw the Creature charging towards him, normally bloodless face dark with anger. The Citizen he'd been speaking to squeaked in terror and vanished in a puff of smoke, the Wind politely moving in to scatter the smoke.
Jack tried to fight down jealousy that he couldn't do the same.
"My ghastly Creature," Jack greeted, dipping his head in respect, "what can I do for you on this terrible-"
"That human you're protecting has to be dealt with," the Creature snapped, aura low to the ground and swirling. "Lock her up, force her in a Gateway, I don't care-"
"Perhaps this is a matter best handled in private," Jack interrupted, carefully controlling the bolt of anger and concern that shot through him. "Is she still alive and unharmed?"
"She won't be for long," the Creature ground out, tendons visible as he flexed his mighty hands.
"I'm sure I didn't hear that," Jack said mildly, holding his front door open. "You have been through far worse than her, Sir Creature. Tell me the truth of your ire."
The Creature barked out a laugh as he crowded the hallway, shoulders tensing and untensing as the scratchy sound erupted from his parched throat. "If you knew what she had done, you would not defend her so."
Jack took a seat in his thin and imposing armchair, gesturing for the Creature to sit, keeping his aura curled up within his form. "Then enlighten me, if you will."
The Creature stared, yellow eyes almost shocked. "Very well, Skellington," he mocked. "She read the Wills of Halloween."
Damn it, Ivy.
"A breach of privacy, no doubt," Jack countered calmly, steepling his fingers together and crossing one leg over the other. "I'll speak to her, perhaps arrange for a Memory Wipe-"
"She read yours, Majesty," the Creature spat. "She read your Will."
Jack's fingers fractured from the sudden pressure.
He kept his face blank -
(Had she seen-)
-carefully flexed his fingers out, reaching for the box of spares-
(His Deal was in there- surely, she hadn't- he couldn't let her-)
-he swapped his fingers out, aware of the awful pressing silence in the room as the Creature's face turned from gloating to suspicion-
(She couldn't- he'd kept it secret for centuries- he couldn't let one human muck it all up-)
-his aura swirled like acid in his ribcage, and Jack knew if he were still living his chest would be heaving in anger-
Jack looked up, a wooden smile on his face. "I understand the situation, oh Creature," he said, and his smile was suddenly much less friendly. "But honored as I am to you getting so…" his sockets twitched up and down and the Creature dropped the last of his own anger. "...so...defensive of my Will's privacy, I can hardly imagine you pulling your stitches on my behalf."
It was truly a benefit that the undead couldn't breathe, for all the air in the room seemed to have fled.
The Creature stared at him, adopting the secretive and defensive stance that Jack had learned to hate. "That is all there was to it, Jack."
"And so, where is she?"
"How should I know?"
"Well, it seems if you're so concerned that she be brought to justice, you'd bring her here. I'm sure she'd be confused and perhaps a bit flighty, but willing to come along….oh dear, your head is dented! How did that happen?"
The challenge in front of the two monsters, the Creature narrowed his eyes.
"I've told you all you need to know, Jack," the Creature whispered, voice low. "Find your little pet and contain her so the rest of the Town can have some peace."
"Perhaps it is not she who needs to be contained," Jack retorted, already compiling a list of places where Ivy might be hiding. "I fail to see why I've become an authority to you now, Creature. Surely your...acquaintances would prefer the chance to do a little hunting? I bet you'd all love it. Give you a taste of the glory days, eh? Live out some of those fantasies of making the humans pay?"
The Creature curled his feet, denting the wood of Jack's floor as his massive hands gripped at the fragile cushions. "Careful, Jack," the Creature breathed, a manic light to his eyes. "We are not to be made enemies of."
"Nor am I," Jack snapped back. "Kindly take your leave, good Creature, and remember who the Pumpkin King is."
The Creature stood in a flash, teeth bared. Jack remained seated, tilting his head up at the Creature and staring openly. "Skellington-"
There was a sudden wash of blackness that overcame the room, seeping into every corner, swirling about-
Jack took a breath and pulled his aura back in, gazing at the now empty living room. A shame he'd lost his patience, but there really was only so much insubordination one skeleton could take!
Jack stood himself up, brushing off his tattered suit and realigned his spine, checking that his femur & fibula were ready for some sprinting.
He had a human to find.
Ossi- term (usually deragatory) for someone who lived in East Germany before reunification. Ivy, Bezata and their families would be called Wessi, or residents of West Germany.
For those of you that have been sending me messages on Tumblr...I am SO sorry, I didn't realize that I somehow had my ability to view these messages disabled. So I'll be responding to those over the next few days, and now that I've figured it out I welcome everyone else to check out the page ( tricked-out). There's been some fantastic fanart done by amazing artists, and I've even begun uploading my own illustrations for each chapter, so be sure to check those out!
Thanks again for sticking by me and this story. No matter where you are in the world, take care of yourselves physically & mentally. These are times we never could have anticipated, and even though there's a drive to make use of every single second of every single day please take time to sleep, take more time for yourselves, or even ignore the world to read fanfic for a few hours. Best of luck to you all, and I'll see you soon (I promise!).