Y'all really popped off with the reception on this story so I had to develop it into more than just a oneshot. With the help of the gilica gc and ofc Em I've actually got a plan to make this a 3-4 part story. I am so thankful that y'all loved it so much and honestly once the questions of a second part came in I couldn't get it out of my head either. So here y'all go, I once again have little to no impulse control so I'm publishing this right after I finished writing it. Enjoy!
The insistent buzzing of her phone wakes Jessica from her deep sleep. She blinks a few times sucking in a deep breath, not remembering when she'd managed to slip asleep. The bright lumination of her phone lights up the dark room. It's well past midnight, that much she can tell from the heaviness of her body. She must have been out a few hours.
She swings her hand out, scrunching her nose in annoyance at the interruption. She can't remember the last time she'd slept so deeply. She turns down the brightness before checking the messages.
8 missed calls from Malcolm
12 missed calls from Ainsley
5 missed calls from Gil
Panic surges through her as she turns over, unlocking her phone to check her messages.
Mom please pick up - Ainsley
Where are you? - Gil
He's coming. - Malcolm
Her stomach bottoms out as she scrolls through more panicked messages. The bed shifts and a low hum echoes from behind her as an arm slides around her waist. She doesn't dare to move a muscle.
"Jessie, what are you doing up?" The voice croons, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. Her phone lights up again, buzzing insistently. Martin smiles against her skin, "Is that our boy?"
Jessica shoots out of bed with a gasp, her hands immediately wrapping around herself to protect her from his touch. She tries desperately to remind herself that it was only a dream but she can still feel his lips on her skin. There's a shift somewhere by her feet and she jumps again. Her eyes fall on a shadow moving in the dark before it sits by her legs, reflective eyes shining at her.
Her location begins piecing together then. The rougher sheets, the small amount of light shining through the bedroom window, the soft stirring of the figure next to her.
Right, she's at Gil's. The shadow is one of his cats.
"Jess?" He hums, on cue. She doesn't turn to him or relax. How can she possibly? She was chased out of her own home by the lingering threat of her escaped ex-husband. It's been a week with absolutely no sign of him and it only made her night terrors get worse. No amount of pills or booze could chase away the dreams.
Gil sits up slowly, more than rehearsed with these nights. He'd been her constant tether since Martin's escape, always close enough to catch her should she fall apart. In moments where she's overwhelmed he will squeeze her arm, just enough to let her know she's not alone in this.
She puts a hand out, palm facing upwards. It's a small sign to him that he can touch her, that it won't send her running. The first night, he'd placed a hand on her shoulder she'd sprung out of bed so quickly that she took out his nightstand and a lamp with her. All she could feel was Martin's touch, still so fresh from when he was far too close.
Gil comes to position himself behind her so she's sitting between his legs. One hand laces fingers with her upturned palm. He brings their hands to her chest enveloping her in a loose hug. The other brushes her untamed hair aside and he drops a kiss to the side of her neck. She forces herself to focus on the smell of his body wash as a reminder that this isn't Martin.
"Nightmare?" She nods and he hums against her skin. She pulls his arm across her leaning against his frame. It helps her relax, if only a little, to be so close to him. Martin's escape has been hell on all of them: Malcolm is a mess throwing himself fully into finding his father, full of anger and confusion that he has yet to even appear for him. Ainsley, on the other hand, is eager to avoid him, going so far as to stay with Dani until this passes. He had such a poor effect on her mental health after Endicott but Jessica is thankful that at least one of her children has some common sense.
She, herself, takes the brunt of the blows. The news hit rampant by the morning of Martin's escape. She could hardly leave to make an official report at the station without being surrounded by reporters asking her incessant questions. She'd run from her own home to avoid being hounded and out from underneath her own paranoia. It felt like she wasn't alone in there. Every corner, every shadow made her jump. Staying with Gil had been an easy decision.
However, then came the nightmares. Haunting images of moments changed. Ainsley being home instead of her. Martin stealing Malcolm away in the dead of night. Another woman showing up dead. All of it too horrific and overwhelming for her to talk about, even with Gil's gentle persuasions.
The phone ringing makes her jump and she instantly feels a rush of shame. "Sh, it's okay." Gil whispers rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. He leans back, eyes peering at phone screen in the dark. "It's Malcolm." She feels him hesitate. She knows he's calling about the case. He calls Gil when he gets stuck, the conversation may stir something loose and he'll have a breakthrough.
"Go." She pushes his hand away but he still lingers.
"Will you be ok?"
"I'll be fine. Besides, I've got Atlas." A small chirrup comes from the animal at her feet. A curious noise at his name being mentioned. Gil smiles affectionately turning to the cat.
"Keep an eye on her." He leans forward kissing her on the lips before rushing off to the kitchen to talk to Malcolm in private. The conversation, she figures, would be a long one. She focuses her attention in on Atlas.
"Where's your brother?" She asks, not really expecting a true answer and she runs her nails through the soft fur on his back. She was never really close with animals, never had any growing up. Her mother would have lost it at a dog tracking mud through her perfect linoleum floors. She supposes it's the one thing that her mother left imprinted on her because it was the same thought she had when Ainsley incessantly begged for a puppy from ages 5 to 8.
It'd been Malcolm and Ainsley who had actually found the two cats camped out under her rose bushes two years prior. The poor things had been soaked to the bone and shivering uncontrollably. Her son had swept them up under his coat and brought them inside. It took very little convincing after that for Gil to take them in. Her home was far too big, Malcolm already has Sunshine, and Ainsley's schedule isn't fitting for pets.
That didn't stop the two of them from naming the cats before they even introduced them to Gil. The missing one named by Ainsley was Icarus and Malcolm followed suit with the theme naming the dark furred brother Atlas.
Jessica tries not to think too deeply of the meanings behind the names.
"He wouldn't run. He would stay here, in the city." Despite his best attempts she can still hear Gil through the walls. His apartment is much thinner than her empty home. The stress in his words carries to her. She swallows heavily trying not to focus in on the conversation but it's almost second nature to listen in. "Where the hell could he be hiding, we've checked all of Jess's real estate, we checked his childhood home. We're missing something."
She has to push down that feeling in her gut. The one that screamed every time she walked through her halls. A part of her knows exactly where he is, or at least heavily suspects.
He never left the home.
Her home had been combed over by several officers but they found nothing. At least, that's what they said. However, decades without knowing of murder tunnels beneath her home left her more than a little skeptical of knowing exactly what was in her own halls. She was more than certain, Martin is still in her home.
And it would take one of them to draw him out.
Gil pokes his head into the room interrupting her thoughts. She tries not to look suspicious, acting like her focus has been on Atlas rather than the search of her ex-husband. He must be convinced because he smiles sadly at her. "I'm going to see Malcolm. Do you want me to call Ainsley and see if she'll stay with you?" As if on cue she hears Icarus call out, as if her own daughter were trying to stop her plans.
"I'm fine." She smiles at him trying not to let the lump in her throat betray her. This will provide her just the window she needs. "How long will you be gone?"
"I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise." Her heart hurts a little at that. Knowing what exactly he will return to. But it's for the best.
She's going to end this.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
She steps out of the taxi feeling the sense of dread grow thicker in her stomach. The lingering feeling of death with every click of her heels down the familiar sidewalk. Her keys shake as she unlocks the front door disabling the alarm system before it can notify the cops that someone has entered the home.
The home feels impossibly large as she steps inside. The hallways are silent, everything just as she left it a week prior. She completely dismissed all staff with paid leave until Martin was found. God forbid some poor housemaid find him and be killed for simply doing her job. Each step screamed at her more to run. She turns heel for the bookshelf, knowing exactly what to look for.
Her fingers run over the spines finding the one she was searching for with ease. A hollowed out copy of The Story Without an End sits on the shelf perfectly disguised among the other vintage books. She flips open the cover, eyes falling on the pistol still lying perfectly inside. It's precautionary, she tells herself. She's in a house with a serial killer, she needs to be able to protect herself. The weight of the gun feels like the whole world rests in her hands.
"Jessie?" Her muscles seize up at the tone. He can't be more than a few steps behind her. Her own thundering heart must have disguised the sound of his steps. "I knew you'd be back." She closes the book, placing it back on the shelf before he can see. "What are you doing?"
