Author's Note: Hello earthlings. Yes, I updated again. I don't know how, but I'm on a roll and I will take full advantage of this momentum.

Warning: Fluffs...you'll see *wink, wink*

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, just borrowing Jeff Goode's characters.

Tattoo

ஜ۩۞۩ஜ

Chapter 10: Fracture and Closure

Spud Spudinski had almost forgotten what being in Jake Long's house was like. The familiar scent of Susan Long's cooking flew through the air, and the faint hum of the TV playing a late-night sitcom made the place feel almost unchanged.

Almost.

He stood in front of Trixie and Jake at the front door entryway.

Spud stood by the front door, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "So, uh… nice place. Still smells like good food and bad decisions," he joked, offering a weak smile.

Spud could still remember all the core memories the three had made together in this very same spot. It felt like he had taken a blast from the past; nothing had changed from the last time he was here. The couch, the wall paintings.

It felt surreal for him.

Jake snorted, shaking his head as he leaned against the counter. "Yeah, well, some things don't change."

Trixie Carter, seated on the couch, arched a brow. "Speak for yourself. You used to have a whole section dedicated to your sneaker collection. Where's all that now?"

"In storage. I like to think I've matured," Jake replied, smirking.

"Uh-huh. Sure," Trixie said, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the small smile playing at her lips, as she tucked a strand of her curls behind her hair.

For a moment, it almost felt like old times.

Almost.

The small talk continued—Spud cracking a few jokes, Jake tossing in his usual cocky remarks, and Trixie occasionally rolling her eyes but never actually shutting down the conversation. It was light, easy, something all three of them had missed but were too afraid to admit out loud.

Spud found himself stealing glances at Trixie when she wasn't looking. It had been three years since they last hung out, and in that time, she had changed—not just in presence but in how she carried herself. There was a confidence in the way she sat, the way her arms folded over her chest, like she had grown into herself in an impressive and intimidating way. Her curls framed her face perfectly, her skin glowing under the dim lighting of the apartment. In their Fillmore Middle School days, he used to remember how much she wished her hair would grow, and now she was rocking out her curls, almost touching her mid-back. He tried not to focus on how her lips pursed thoughtfully when she listened or how her dark brown eyes burned with a fire that had always been there, just sharper now, almost feline. It wasn't an obvious kind of attraction—it was just… different. Unfamiliar in a way that left him feeling even more out of place.

But then, slowly, the air shifted.

The laughter faded into quieter chuckles. The silences between words grew heavier. The weight of everything unsaid began pressing against them, creeping in between every breath.

The door clicked shut, sealing them inside.

Jake, Spud, and Trixie stood in the same room for the first time in three years.

Together.

But the warmth of nostalgia didn't come. No easy laughter, no playful jabs, no seamless reunion. Instead, thick and suffocating silence stretched between them, pressing against Jake's apartment walls.

Spud hovered near the entrance, his back almost pressed against the door as if he were debating whether to leave before things got any messier. His fingers curled tightly inside the pockets of his hoodie, his thoughts racing in frantic circles. He had come here with a purpose—he had something important to say. Yet, standing here, face-to-face with the two people he had spent years avoiding, he felt like an exposed nerve. Every breath and every movement felt too loud, too real.

Jake stood near the living room, arms crossed over his chest, his onyx eyes unreadable. Usually, he would have been the first to crack a joke or ease the tension, but this wasn't that kind of moment. His silence spoke volumes, as if he too was waiting for someone else to take the first step.

And then there was her.

Trixie Carter was calm. Too calm. She stood a few feet away, arms crossed loosely—not in defiance, but in restraint. Her gaze flickered between the two boys, searching, waiting. The cool expression on her face was unreadable, but beneath it, a storm brewed. A slow, simmering anxiety. A tightly wound knot of resentment. A whisper of nostalgia that she wanted to reject, but couldn't.

Her mind wandered back to the past three years, to all the times she had seen Spud in school. They had sometimes crossed paths, a fleeting glance in the hallway, a moment where their eyes could have met—but never did. Each time, it killed her. The way they had gone from being close friends to absolute strangers gnawed at her, eating away at the memories they had once shared. Secrets exchanged in hushed voices, adventures that only the three of them could ever understand—it was like none of it had ever mattered.

Drama class had been the only class they had together. She had sat in that class, watching him from the corner of her eye, hoping—just once—that he would turn to her, say anything to rekindle what they lost. That day when he came to her house to drop off her notes, he could've said something to her, like why our friendship ended so randomly. But he never did. He acted as if the friendship didn't exist in the first place.

And now, three years later, he suddenly wanted to talk? Really talk?

She had done her best to keep it cool and casual all these years with the boys, but tonight?

Fuck this.

She couldn't explain what it was, or if it was maybe her wizard energy going berserk.

But she suddenly had the insane need to call things out for what it was.

Trixie exhaled, steady and measured. "So," she began, her voice smooth but distant. "Are we just gonna stand here all night, or is someone actually gonna say something?"

Spud felt the words like a hook in his gut. His tongue felt thick, heavy. What the hell was he supposed to say? 'Hey, Trix, long time no see. Sorry for ghosting you for three years, but funny story—I saw your evil doppelgänger in my mirror this morning and now I've got this weird magical tattoo that won't come off.' Yeah. That'd go over great.

Jake shifted his stance, clearing his throat. "Trix, I—"

"You what?" Her gaze snapped toward him, but there was no fire behind it, just something cool and unreadable. "You forgot I existed? You thought I wouldn't notice?"

Jake opened his mouth, but no words came. He wanted to intervene so badly and help Spud out. But what could he even say? That it was for her own good? That he thought he was protecting her? That he hated himself every damn day for staying away? The excuses felt hollow now. He shut his mouth.

Trixie sighed and rubbed her temples. "Nah, you know what? It's fine. I mean, three years of radio silence from the both of you? That's totally normal. I'm sure I was so easy to forget." She let out a short, humorless chuckle, her arms tightening over her chest. "How the two of you just left like it was nothing. Like we didn't spend years having each other's backs. Like we weren't family."

Spud flinched. The weight of her words made his stomach churn. She wasn't yelling or lashing out—but somehow, this was worse.

Jake, still quiet, stared hard at the floor.

Spud swallowed. His throat was dry, his brain screaming at him to say something. But what? Did he try to justify it? Make excuses? Would it even matter? He could change the subject, get straight to the reason he was here—to talk about the tattoo, about the woman he met who looked like her —but that felt wrong, like slapping a bandage on a gaping wound.

And yet, the alternative—the one where he faced the wreckage of their friendship head-on—felt just as impossible.

Jake shifted uncomfortably, and their eyes met for the first time since Spud had entered. The weight of guilt between them was unmistakable. They had both screwed up. Ghosting Trixie—both simultaneously—had been a mistake neither could easily explain away. Spud looked away first, his fingers flexing in his hoodie pocket, while Jake ran a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose.

His eyes found themselves back onto Trixie's. "Trixie, I didn't want to end the friendship!"

Trixie darkly snorted, "...well buddy, your ghosting said otherwise."

Spud flinched, he deserved that sting. "T-Trixie, you gotta understand that we didn't have a choice. It was for your safety! I-it was fo-"

Jake looked at him sharply, knowing where he was going with this. "Spud…"

Trixie's gaze flickered down to Spud's hand, her brows furrowing slightly.

Suddenly the world stopped for her.

Like she was under a hum.

"What's that?"

Spud followed her eyes and felt his stomach drop. His fingers twitched involuntarily, curling slightly to obscure the tattoo on his palm, but it was too late. She had seen it.

He swallowed, latching onto the opportunity like a lifeline. "Oh, uh… yeah. Funny story about that."

Jake looked at him sharply. "Spud…"

Spud forced a grin, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, so... funny thing. I kinda got ambushed by a dark version of you and—uh— also somehow ended up with this glowing tattoo branded on my hand. Yeah. Wild time, right?"

Jake and Trixie exchanged wide-eyed glances, looking like deer caught in headlights. Spud had expected some kind of reaction, but their sheer shock made him shift uncomfortably. The tension in the room shifted—not gone, but momentarily pushed aside.

Jake cleared his throat and gestured toward the stairs. "We should probably take this somewhere more private. My folks are home, and this... is kinda big."

Spud nodded, still feeling overwhelmed but grateful for the distraction. Trixie didn't say anything, but she followed without hesitation, her arms crossed as if bracing herself for what was to come.

The three of them silently climbed the stairs, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on them. Jake pushed open his bedroom door, letting them in before closing it behind them. The room was familiar—still covered in posters, sneakers tucked under the bed, and a gaming console idling by the TV—but the air was different now. He leaned against his desk, arms folded, while Spud sat on the edge of the bed, eyes darting between his two old friends.

Spud shifted uncomfortably, running a hand over the tattoo on his palm. "Before you guys drop bombshells, I think I should tell you something first."

Jake and Trixie exchanged glances but didn't interrupt. Spud took a deep breath, then launched into his story—the realization of the tattoo on his hand - after Trix and him had shaken hands, the moment he woke up to find Inner staring at him in his own reflection, the eerie way she had spoken to him, the way she had tested him. He described the strange pressure in the air, the fear that had gripped him, and the overwhelming sensation that she wasn't just some illusion—she was something deeper, something real. And then, she somehow made his mysterious tattoo glow on his palm, reminding him that their encounter wasn't just a dream.

Jake's brows furrowed, arms tightening over his chest as he processed Spud's words. Trixie, however, had gone unnervingly still, her fingers curling slightly as if her body remembered the touch of Inner's blade.

"I call her Inner," she said, quietly, barely a whisper. "She's real."

Spud stood up, mouth agape. "The fuck… so she's really you?!"

A painful sigh escaped from her. "Y-yes."

Jake stole a glance at Trixie. It wasn't just shock in his eyes—there was something else. A silent question, an unspoken request for permission.

She continued on, resuming focus on Spud. "She's a subconscious part of me…"

Trixie still felt it, the weight of Jake's stare pressing against her. He was asking her—without words—if it was time to tell Spud the truth—about everything.

For a brief moment, she hesitated. Then, with a slow inhale, she gave the slightest nod. Barely noticeable, but Jake caught it.

"I-I'm a wizard Spud."

Spud blinked, his brain struggling to process everything. His mouth opened slightly before he snapped it shut again, shaking his head as if trying to reboot his thoughts.

"Wait… you're a wizard?" he finally blurted out, his voice caught somewhere between disbelief and shock.

His face twisted into something comical—wide eyes, eyebrows raised so high they nearly vanished into his hairline. His mouth opened and closed a few times, searching for the right words, but all he managed was an unintelligible, "Huh, how?!"

His wide eyes flicked to Jake as if looking for confirmation that this was some kind of elaborate joke. But his stomach flipped when he saw Jake simply nodding along—like this was normal.

Trixie let out a slow breath, glancing down at her side. A hesitation flickered across her face before she reached for the hem of her shirt, fingers curling around the fabric. "You think the tattoo Inner gave you is bad?" she murmured, voice almost distant. "Then you should see this."

With deliberate slowness, she lifted the edge of her shirt just enough to reveal the scar on her chest, right above her heart. The pale moonlight from the bedroom window illuminated the faint, jagged mark over her heart—where Inner had stabbed her. The scar stood out against her skin, a painful reminder of the moment everything changed. The skin around it looked healed, but there was a permanence to it, an undeniable reminder of what had happened.

Spud's breath hitched, his gaze locking onto the scar. His shocked demeanor vanished, replaced by something deeper—something raw. "Trix…"

She gave a wry, half-smile, tracing a finger along the mark absentmindedly. "It's funny," she said, voice light but laced with bitterness. "I barely remember the pain. I just remember the moment when she stabbed me —the second I realized that everything I thought I knew about myself had changed."

Spud's mind was spinning as everything clicked into place. The weight of it pressed against his chest, making it harder to breathe. Trixie had gone through all of this—fighting some dark version of herself, nearly dying, discovering she was a wizard—and where had he been? Nowhere. He hadn't been there for her. He hadn't even known. And that realization made something sharp twist in his gut.

He clenched his fists, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. "Why didn't you ask for help, Trix? Why didn't you tell me? I could've—I would've—"

Trixie's eyes snapped to him, burning with something raw and tired. "Are you serious right now?"

Spud flinched, but she wasn't done. She shot up from where she was sitting, arms tense at her sides. "You wanna know why I didn't ask for help? Because you weren't there, Spud! You acted brand new on me! You and Jake both walked away without a word, without a single damn explanation, for years. I had to figure everything out on my own. So don't sit here acting all overprotective now like you actually gave a damn when it mattered!"

The words hit like a slap, and Spud recoiled as guilt crashed into him like a tidal wave. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Because she was right. Every single word.

Jake, who had been silent throughout the exchange, let out a slow breath, his expression unreadable. He deserved all the smoke Trix was giving them. Trixie exhaled sharply, shaking her head before she dropped back onto Jake's computer chair. The fire in her eyes was still smoldering but dimmer now.

Trixie inhaled deeply, steadying herself, then gave a short nod. "Alright, let's talk. But first, I need to know something, Spud. What exactly do you know about Inner?"

Spud blinked, still recovering from the emotional blow, but he forced himself to focus. "Uh… not much, honestly. Just that she… she looks like you, but she's not you. She's creepy as hell, knows way too much about me, and—oh yeah—she made this tattoo glow."

Trixie frowned, her fingers tapping lightly against her arm as she processed his words. "Why is she involving you?" she muttered more to herself than to them, but the thought nagged at her. Her brief time with Inner had taught her one thing—nothing the woman did was without purpose. There was always a catch, always some deeper play at work.

Her gaze sharpened. "Spud, did she say why and how she marked you? Did she give you any clue about what she wants?"

Before Spud could answer, Trixie took a step closer, reaching for his hand. He barely had time to react before her fingers wrapped around his wrist, gently pulling his palm up for inspection. With the tip of her finger, she traced the intricate lines of the tattoo, following its patterns with a focused intensity. The closer she looked, the more the design seemed to shift beneath her touch, as if something deeper was etched into its very essence.

For Trixie, the moment stretched. The tattoo wasn't just a marking—it was art, laced with something she could almost feel threading through her skin. She barely noticed as her breathing slowed, her thoughts quieting as a strange pull of magic whispered at the edges of her consciousness. The way the ink wove together was almost hypnotic, and for a second, she swore she could hear something—a distant hum, like a pulse buried beneath the surface of the markings.

For Spud, however, it was a completely different experience. His heart pounded in his chest as Trixie's fingers skimmed across his skin, warm and deliberate. She was so close—close enough for him to catch the faintest scent of her shampoo, to feel the soft tickle of her curls as they shifted near his arm. His throat went dry, and suddenly, words became impossible. He swallowed hard, hoping to will away the heat creeping up his neck. This is fine, he told himself. Totally normal. No big deal. Except… why does it feel like a big deal?

Standing off to the side, Jake observed the scene with narrowed eyes. His arms crossed over his chest, and though his expression remained neutral, there was an unmistakable flicker of something else—something sharp and unreadable. Jealousy? Maybe. Protectiveness? Definitely. He recognized his audacity for feeling this way when he had also distanced himself from her for years. However, from the moment he reconnected with her, watching her be more confident and fight through everything. And now, seeing her so wrapped up in Spud's presence—touching him, analyzing him with such focus—set off something instinctive inside him. He shifted his weight, clearing his throat, loud enough to break whatever trance had settled between them.

Trixie blinked, snapping back to reality as she quickly released Spud's hand. "Uh, yeah, so…" she muttered, shaking her head as if to rid herself of whatever had just happened. "...Yeah, Spud. This thing definitely ain't just some tattoo."

She rubbed her fingers together, almost expecting to feel something different on her skin—some residue of magic, some lingering effect—but there was nothing. Just that same hum, deep in her bones, the same pull that had whispered to her since the moment she first saw Inner.

She didn't like it.

Jake glanced between the two of them, still standing protectively near the door, his expression unreadable. But Trixie saw it. The tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw clenched like he was holding back words. He felt it too, didn't he? That something was shifting. That whatever was happening between her and Spud—whatever Inner had set into motion—was only just beginning.

And for the first time in a long time… Trixie felt something she hated to admit to herself.

She was scared.

Author's Note:...oh yeah, I forgot to tell y'all, there's a little bit of TxS fluff too ;) What do y'all think was the source of the friendship break-ups?