Chapter Text
An open window was an opportunity too good to pass up on.
“I could swear it wasn’t open before today.” Chip bit his lip, his eyes jumping over all the other windows of the old facade. A sort of dark, half-timbered mansion that looked ever more eerie in the dark of the night. “I don’t think we should do this.”
“It was open. It was probably just pushed close by the wind when you were checking it out.” Reuben checked him with his shoulder. In that moment, Chip couldn’t quite look him in the eyes - instead staring at the black braid tumbling down his shoulder. They were both dressed inconspicuously, heavy jackets that felt normal for the transition to winter, and gloves with holes in them. Chip swallowed dryly as he pulled them off, stuffing them into his jacket pockets. “...Alright.”
Reuben pressed him forward with a steady hand on his back. “Just locate the entrance as quickly as possible, and open up for me.” And then, just with slight humor in his voice, he added. “I wanna explore with you. Don’t get distracted, alright?”
“Sure, sure.” He shook his hands in preparation, and pulled at the timber frame to check out how solid it still was. Surprisingly, he found that it held his weight pretty reliably. The brick on the facade were also pretty pronounced, so if worse came to worst, he’d just have to hold onto that.
There was a flashlight clipped on his belt, and his phone in his jacket, but otherwise nothing he would consider immensely useful. With another shake of his body, something to get the blood flowing, he started climbing up.
“Good luck,” Reuben whispered. “I’d say I’ll catch you if you fall but…”
“Yeah.” He swung his leg up, and pushed his entire body right after. “See you there.”
His hands felt a little too cold as he searched for the next spot to hold onto, but it all felt like it could hold him, and the pattern was reoccurring, so after the first few grabs, he felt the movement overcome him. The sound of his own huffing breath zoned out of his awareness, as did the feeling of his gloves getting wet- and with determination, it was very quick to get to that window.
With a heavy breath he shoved himself over the windowsill, and just barely stopped himself from tumbling inside. His feet connected with the floor quietly, and a breath of relief pushed itself out of his lungs. He briefly looked back, ready to give Reuben a thumbs up or something.
He had left the vicinity. Chip pressed his lips together. It was likely that he already went over to the entrance.
With a dry throat, he clicked on his flashlight.
He had to be in some kind of study. A larger room, with book shelves around him, almost like this was a small book store- fancy, with high ceilings, and ladders on some of the shelves. He swiped his light over the room, and he saw dust swirl in front of it. It smelled like old paper- his nose curled in disgust.
He made sure that his footsteps remained quiet as he located the door. It was open a notch, so Chip just put his flat palm against it to widen the gap to slip through as carefully as possible.
This was the first floor, on the west side of the building. So he had to find some stairs that let him down, and then navigate through this mansion to find the front entrance, or, worst case, if Chip can't find anything, he'd just open or break a window on the ground floor.
His light shone down the long hallway, doors on each side of it. His footsteps were muffled by the long carpet beneath his feet, and other than his flashlight there was only one window at the end of the long room, a glimmer of moonlight.
He didn't dare move quickly, didn't dare make a sound. He was good at being quiet.
Suddenly, through his own silence, a sound broke through- a resounding thump.
His heart was in his throat. The mansion was abandoned- should be abandoned. He shut off his light and pressed himself against a wall, his hand on his mouth. His breathing suddenly sounded so much louder than before.
There were slow footsteps. Definitely in the same hallway as he was in. Of course squatters could always be there, that was always the big worry with going to these places - even with the big window at the end he couldn’t see much, and certainly not a person. It must be someone around the corner, the mansion was built like a damn labyrinth-
His breath hitched.
Something large and imposing, a silhouette only visible by the light blocked out from the window - large enough to swallow up most of the frame at the end of the hallway.
They were way too close. In three large strides, they would be right up in his face.
Chip didn't hesitate.
He ducked back into the study, but even halfway through the room he could hear the door opening wider behind him with an ominous creak.
Now wasn't the time to hesitate. He swung one leg out that same open window he came in from, and blindly searched for the timber facade to brace against.
His leg kicked out uselessly a few times, and every time he stepped towards empty air his heart beat higher, and-
He finally connected. His hands were shaking where they were grabbing onto the window frame, and he kicked his second leg over.
“Chip?”
For one, stupid moment, Chip hesitated. Whoever lived or squatted here had crossed the room, and was standing right in front of the window. Right in front of Chip.
There was a second of eye contact that felt like hours. He couldn't feel his hands.
But when he took another step towards Chip, he was reeled back into action, desperately climbing back down.
He didn't look up, or back- he jumped the last few feet down, knees sprawling on the mud as he scrambled back up, and he started running.
Chip didn't believe in ghosts, but he just fucking saw one.
At the window, illuminated by the moonlight - that was Drey Ferrin.
-
(Chip was 12 when he saw Drey for the first time.
That was at Arlin’s round and dingy kitchen table, a harsh light hanging from the top. Drey was this huge man, especially for someone young like Chip at the time - dark hair that hung in his face, back then with a touch of youthfulness and a small scar on his lip that made it look like he was constantly smirking. They were throwing cards in quick succession, an empty expression on Arlin’s face. Chip was used to his smile, something rather slightly nervous yet reassuring.
Chip remembered standing in that doorframe, fingers fisted into the wood as he practically disappeared into the darkness behind him. He was supposed to be asleep.
“So,” Arlin threw a card in, barely even looking at it. “How's Ava?”
Drey - although Chip hadn't known his name at the time - huffed a laugh. “Are you trying to psych me out?” Another card.
Arlin paused the onslaught of cards, looking through the deck he had. “Just curious.”
“She's great. As great as she can be with Jayson on her fucking case but- yeah.”
“You said Jayson's better.”
“They started training.”
That's apparently all that he needed to say, because Arlin didn't retort anything back.
“And, uh,” Drey moved on his chair, one elbow on the backrest and a leg thrown over the other. “How's your little guy?”
Chip gasped as Drey’s eyes darted over to his hiding spot, and he moved around the corner.
“Chip?” He heard Arlin stand up, his heavy footsteps against the kitchen tile. Chip still hasn't been sure at this point what type of guy Arlin was - it's just been a couple months since he was situated in his home, so his mind was jumping between staying still or running back to his room.
He had been seen anyway. Chip let himself be found.
Arlin stepped into that hallway, and once he set eyes on him, he leaned against the other side of it with his arms crossed. “You're supposed to be asleep, buddy.”
Chip looked at his feet and shrugged. “Dunno.”
“Well,” Arlin let out a heavy breath and his eyes were on the ceiling as if he was looking for an answer there. “It's a weekend,” he huffed under his breath. “Wanna meet my buddy Drey?”
Chip shrugged again, but this time he wasn't looking at his feet- he was actually stepping forward, a contradiction to his undecisive gesture.
That's how he ended up sitting on a chair next to Drey, fiddling with his hands as Arlin was brewing up a jasmine tea.
“So…” Drey’s voice was gruff, and he was even scarier looking up close. He picked up all of the cards on the table, and started mixing them around. “How's Arlin treating ya?”
“Good,” he mumbled. His eyes were trained on Drey’s hands.
Almost as if he noted his gaze, Drey started flipping the cards around in more exaggerated ways, shuffling them with satisfying clacking sounds of the cards. Chip's eyes widened a little.
“How'd you do that?”
“Wanna learn how to do it?”
Chip's lips were pressed together in excitement as he nodded silently. Arlin swooped in for a moment, putting the cup of tea in front of Chip.
“Drey’s the type of guy to travel a lot. And then he learns a lot on his travels.”
“So you're rich?”
Drey laughed, and it was this loud sound that came from his chest. Arlin slapped his shoulder, reminding him that Lizzie was probably sleeping still.
“Yeah. Yeah, kinda,” Drey rubbed his nose. “Alright Chip, you gotta get back to bed, but I'll show you one card trick, okay?”
Chip nodded once again, leaning closer to Drey.
“Teach me.”)
-
Chip was cursing under his breath as he practically broke down the door to the apartment.
He had checked the mansion’s entrance for Reuben, to tell him to leave as quickly as possible, but there was no one there.
He was expecting Reuben to sit on the couch or stand in the kitchen, acting entirely casual and briefly looking over to give Chip a wave- and in that moment, Chip would've torn into him, starting a screaming match that would leave their neighbors pounding the wall so hard that it was a wonder that it didn't break.
Instead, with a sharp exhale to prepare himself to throw an insult at the man, he was met with an empty apartment.
Everything looked as they had left it. There were clothes strewn about, their dirty plates on the table, there was a pan on the stove that had been begging to be cleaned for three days…
Chip bit his lip and kept going, leaning into the bathroom - calcified showerhead, toilet seat up, strange odor from the sink, but empty - and then the bedroom - caseless pillow, closed blinds, overflowing laundry baskets, but once again, empty.
Reuben wasn't home.
…Fine. Chip swallowed the anger but he couldn't press it down entirely. He grabbed Reuben’s PJs and threw them on the couch. The least he could do was offer Chip the bed tonight.
It was a little worrying, though. Chip walked to the bathroom, stripping himself of his clothes and jumping into the shower without waiting for it to warm up- he didn't even know if the boiler was working. It was on and off with that stupid thing.
Reuben did have a tendency to disappear at times. Often, too. But they were at the mansion together, and they were checking it out together- as much as he can be an asshole, Reuben wouldn’t have dipped for no reason. And even if he dipped, he would’ve most likely turned back up at the apartment.
Or maybe not. Chip learned long ago that it wasn’t worth it worrying about every little thing Reuben did, or didn’t do.
Chip made a day of it.
He cleaned himself, shook out the blanket and pillow, spread all across the bed like he owned the place, and just sank a little into the mattress. It was nice like this- it felt good to be able to turn around once in bed, and still be on top of it.
It started raining outside. Even his neighbors were quiet.
Chip's eyes fell shut, and he was on the verge of falling asleep- his thoughts already turning into little dreams that he wasn't quite encased in.
He stirred when he heard the front door click as if it was being unlocked.
He cracked an eye open. There was light pouring in from the living room, but the door wasn't open wide. He could see a hand on the door frame, someone standing around the corner, and for a moment he tensed-
But it was just Reuben standing in the doorway to the bedroom.
Dripping wet, he stood there- silent, likely thinking that Chip was asleep. A strange smell immediately wafted through the air. Chip couldn't place it.
Although it was dark, Chip could swear that there was something dark that covered Reuben's face. Even his clothes seemed to be stained, and Chip wondered if the rain caused him to fall face-first into the mud.
The door closed. Chip heard the shower run.
The odd image stayed in his mind as he closed his eyes again- his sleep remained dreamless that night.
-
“Guess what I got?”
It was almost midnight, and Chip was laying on the couch with his cheek pressed up against the seats as he was watching TV. He couldn't see Reuben in the door, but he could clearly hear the grin in his voice. He only hummed. He had been on the verge of falling asleep.
He heard Reuben silently come up to his side, covering the view of the TV with his body. Chip’s eyes strained to look up at him without moving his head, and his eyes had to adjust for a moment.
“Got this from one of my buddies.”
Chip felt dizzy from how fast he sat up, scrambling to the other side of the couch. His mouth opened for a moment, without a sound. “Is- Is that a gun?”
It was all black, slick and thin and long- and Reuben casually held it pointing downward, showing it off like it was just any other household item.
“It’s a revolver. Pretty neat, huh?”
Chip shook his head. “We don’t need that. Why did you get that?” He felt his heart beat a little too loud. He had been yelled at, socked in the face, threatened with a knife- Allport was a huge city, and Chip wasn’t around the best crowds of people- but the few times he actually had seen someone with a gun, he usually high-tailed it out of there before even a single word could be exchanged.
Reuben’s face fell a little in irritation. “We’re low on rent. We have been low on rent since September, and I always barely scraped us by. We didn’t find anything in that mansion, and they’re not giving you more shifts, and I am having a hard time convincing my boss to pay me this month.” He grabbed Chip’s wrist and pressed the revolver into his palm. Chip didn’t wrap his fingers around it until Reuben pulled his hand away, and Chip was more scared of letting it fall to the floor than holding it. “I know a cornerstone that has unplugged security cameras. They’re just for show.”
“I can’t fucking do that, Reuben.” His eyes moved about, looking for a place to put the gun on. It was growing clammy in his hand.
“I’m not asking you to kill someone. I’m not even asking you to hurt someone. You’re gonna go in there, and tell that clerk calmly to give you a big wad of money. Then you stuff it in your pocket and get the hell out of there.” Reuben waited a moment, but sensed Chip’s unwillingness pretty clearly. His lips pressed together. “Chip, we’re at a fucking point where 200 bucks could change the next two months of our lives. Do you get that? If we don’t pay we’re gonna be couch hopping or sleeping under a bridge.”
“...There have to be other ways-”
“I've tried other ways. Okay?”
The apartment they had was shitty, sure- but it was a place they lived in. They had a bathroom, a kitchen, even a living room- if Chip was living here by himself, it would feel like the most luxurious place he owned since he was 16 and living with Arlin. Chip couldn't give that up. He needed this place.
He swallowed dryly. One last bit of protest came up, weakly. “Why don't you do it?”
Reuben simply pointed at his own face. His finger traced a visible line and Chip had to look away. It was something he didn’t think about anymore, barely even registered- three huge scars marred him, in an attack that Reuben could only describe as indescribably awful.
He had never really talked about it, and Chip’s mind supplied him with anything, from a bear attack to a girl with extra long nails that Reuben must have offended. In any case, it was bad.
“I’m pretty… recognizable.”
Chip’s lips set in a straight line. He exhaled a little shakily through his nose.
“...Where is this store?”
-
The weapon was sitting heavy in his pocket. His brain was buzzing, blood pumping in his ears that made it impossible to listen in on anything that might be happening in the store, and he kept staring at the canned peaches as if he were a machine on standby. He swallowed, the motion heavy and difficult.
It was a very small corner store, and it was very manageable to keep everything within eyesight. He was hiding behind one of the two shelves that were standing in the middle of the store instead of being perched up against the wall, silently trying to get himself to do it.
There was only one clerk in there, and he heard the door ring out once after he entered, so there had to be another customer- he just waited it out until it seemed like he was alone in here.
“I haven’t seen that face in ages!”
Chip blinked, breathing in a shallow breath. Something snapped him back, and he was searching his brain to know what it was exactly. His eyes were finally able to continue scanning the shelf in front of him.
“It’s been a while.”
The voice was soft and painfully familiar- Chip could immediately picture the smile on her face as she said it, and just like that, he suddenly felt like there was no blood in his body at all. His face paled, the tips of his fingers felt ice cold-
He glanced around the corner, trying to see if he was going insane or if it was who he thought it was.
It was hard to miss. Red, bright hair- wavy, moving with every jerk and nod of her head. So recognizable, yet much older, no longer a teenager like Chip remembered her being.
Jay Ferin's laugh sounded like a summer afternoon full of messing around and pencil scratches and school bells.
“Your parents must be happy to see you again!”
The clerk- Chip barely looked at him as he walked in- but the clerk was an older man with crooked teeth, and they were all perfectly on display as he smiled at her.
“Of course they are. They wouldn't stop calling me when I was gone!”
Chip felt sick to his stomach. He couldn't do this- there was no way in hell he could walk up to that clerk after Jay left and put a gun in his face. What if Jay came back? What if she saw?
He rounded the shelf, and kept his head down. Cold feet, or maybe he was just generally a coward- walking away was the only option.
It was just as he was about to leave, looking over his shoulder like an idiot-
Jay's voice cut itself off mid-sentence, and their eyes met. For a second Chip felt frozen, and he could already see in his mind how Jay would walk towards him and start talking to him. And the gun in his pocket would weigh heavy the entire conversation, Chip just wanting to run as quickly as possible-
So when Jay slowly leaned away from the counter, Chip took his opportunity.
He left, and hid.
-
“I figured you wouldn't.”
Chip stared at Reuben’s face, seeing him frown in disappointment.
“If you know then why still ask me?” He put the gun on the table, sliding it over to Reuben. He didn't want that thing anywhere near him.
“Cuz I wanted to be wrong, Chip. At least I wasn't disappointed, y'know? I expected this.”
“Going through the trouble to get a gun just for- for some bullshit test?”
Reuben was laughing like it was fucking funny. He took the gun into his palm, turning it left and right, still laughing. He pushed the safety lock back, and Chip leaned away from him immediately.
“Put that thing down.”
He held it up, the barrel pointing towards the ceiling. Chip’s mind unhelpfully provided him with the info that a sweet old lady was living above them- she was one of their few neighbors that didn't hate Chip, solely because she was so hard of hearing that she wouldn't hear his and Reuben's arguments. "Why, are you scared?” He grinned slightly.
“You fucking asshole, of course I'm scared, you have a gun in your hand-”
Reuben pressed on the trigger.
Almost instinctively, Chip put his hands over his ears, expecting a loud sound to echo through their small apartment. His heart was beating out of his chest.
But… there was no sound.
Reuben was laughing again, throwing the gun carelessly onto the table. He put a hand in front of his mouth like he was trying to stop laughing, but it clearly didn't work.
Chip's hands slowly lowered back down. He stared at that gun with large eyes, not comprehending.
“It's a fucking model, Chip.”
“...Model?” His voice sounded foreign in his own head.
“It's fake.” His index pushed against the gun. “It's a fake gun.”
“Fake.”
“Fake, model, yes. Holy shit, Chip. It's plastic.”
Chip took the gun from him. Of course he wouldn't think that a gun was made out of plastic- but there was such a convincing shine on the barrel, it looked entirely real to him. But when he ran his fingers along it again, it dawned on him that it didn't feel like metal at all.
“It- it's not like I ever had a real gun in my hand!” He put it back down on the table. “And I'm not touching the barrel either, why would I? Maybe the trigger is plastic. How would I know?”
Reuben started spinning it around on the table, watching it go round and round. He frowned a little. “Either way, I got the cash. Don't worry about it.”
“...How?”
He shrugged. His eyes were still downcast. “Asked some guys for money.”
It wasn't really believable. Reuben didn't have the kind of charitable friends that would just throw money at him if he asked. If anything it might be a loan shark, and they were in even more trouble, putting a bandaid over a gaping wound…
But Chip wasn't in the mood to fight. His mouth was dry, and he wanted to forget about that gun, and about the store, and about Jay. “I'm going to bed.”
He pushed the chair away from the table, and slowly walked to the bedroom.
“Thank you Reuben, thanks for dealing with this shit,” Reuben said in a high pitched voice. “Hey, no problem. It's just like I saved our asses or something.”
Chip spun around on the spot and leveled Reuben with a harsh glare. “Thanks. I'm going to bed.”
“...” Reuben smiled a little to himself. “Good night.”
-
(The swings on the playground had been squeaking as they swung back and forth- but it was late at night, no soul around to hear the quiet conversation.
“I'm leaving.”
Chip barely looked up. He knew this was coming. “Where?”
“College.”
Jay was digging the tip of her foot into the pebbles. Her swing slowly came to a stop.
“Obviously. But where?”
She stood up, her hands behind her back. Chip felt like he should be angry at her. One last life-line and she's throwing him away- at least that's what it felt like.
Her eyes had been dull and lifeless for weeks. There was nothing Chip could've done except talk and talk and talk- talk until their mouths were dry, and they were gasping for air in between rants.
“It doesn't really matter, does it?” She turned around, one last time. “I will miss you, though.”
She was leaving to become better. And Chip would stay here, bad as ever. “...” He gave her a glance, and then stared at his feet. His mouth didn't move to answer.
And that was that. Eventually he heard her footsteps in the pebbles, leaving the playground.
This surge came over Chip, to get up and follow her, and shake her by her shoulders demanding to know why she was doing this. Instead he sat there, stupidly, blinking a burning sensation out of his eyes.
He was alone, he thought. There was no one left to turn to.)
-
Reuben had this habit of disappearing without any heads up.
Most of the time it didn't bother Chip. It was actually pretty relaxing for once- claiming the bedroom all for himself, walking around freely without worrying about pissing someone off or getting pissed off at the stupidest things. Especially coming back from work and knowing that he could just sit there and decompress without anyone in his periphery, pressing buttons on a microwave or playing quiet music from the bathroom while showering.
So Chip came home from work, threw his bag into a corner, and grabbed some leftovers from the fridge. He sat in complete silence before even starting to eat, feeling small aches in his feet and shoulders.
He was just working in a warehouse, carrying packages and having headphones in, keeping to himself, but after a while, it did all get to him, physically.
The buzzing in his brain and limbs left after a bit, and with a low whistle he finally sat up and started eating right from the tupperware. He clicked on his phone screen to see if Reuben had told him anything- he worked the graveyard shift, he was usually waking up and getting ready when Chip came home- but there wasn't anything.
Rice fell off his spoon as he was checking other places Reuben could’ve contacted him through, but it was complete radio silence. He sent him a quick message on his own, but didn’t expect anything back. He liked going off grid for a few hours, maybe even a day. And Chip wasn’t his mom- he could do whatever he wanted to do.
He leaned back on his couch, turned on the TV, and ignored every thought that crossed his mind.
-
He was surely gonna get written up for how often he checked his phone at work.
He didn't even realize it at first, putting a package away, checking his phone, working for another thirty seconds, checking his phone… but it seemed his mind was a little more preoccupied with Reuben's absence than he wanted to admit.
He was going on day three without any replies to his messages, and no clue where he might be. And there was a lot that could be going on- he lost his phone, or he just couldn't be bothered to reply-
He clocked out and went home.
His hand was on the doorknob, hoping to hear Reuben inside, anything- but he still wasn't there. His heart felt strung up in anticipation and anxiety. His palms were clammy.
There were these people, Reuben's friends, living in the same complex, just a floor beneath them- Chip only remembered meeting with them once, sitting in a corner and laughing nervously every time someone made a joke. They made references to things Chip didn't understand, and sometimes they even seemed to laugh at his confusion. But when that happened, Reuben usually shut it down pretty quickly.
Chip didn't like them at all, and he got the feeling that they didn't like him either. Frankly, none of Reuben’s friends were friendly. And they weren't really friends- they all worked at the same place, doing the graveyard shift. Reuben would sometimes complain for hours how stupid or annoying they were, and he'd rant himself in such a corner that it barely made sense what he said- but Chip figured he just needed to get it all out.
But there he was, standing in front of that neighbor’s door. He knocked, quiet and light.
…
He had a moment to think. That, maybe he was being crazy, and Reuben was just sleeping somewhere else. Maybe he also got sick of Chip’s company. Maybe he found a hot girl he liked and wouldn't pass up on the opportunity of days and days of hanging out.
But instead he knocked again, louder this time.
He stared at the spy hole, wondering if there was someone on the other side staring back at him. The walls were thin, you'd hear footsteps and conversations even if you weren't listening- so Chip was inclined to believe that no one was there.
For good measure, he knocked a third time. He shouldn't be scared to be yelled at by Reuben's weird coworkers that he barely even liked. And for that short moment, indignant courage built in him-
But nothing changed. The door remained closed.
-
Chip had to turn off his music at work to let his thoughts actually get somewhere, trying to remember each of Reuben's friends that he knew of.
There weren't many whose address he could go to, but there were few that he remembered.
Normally he'd go straight home after work to get a few hours for himself, but he wasn't scheduled for the next two days, so he just took the subway to one of Reuben’s friends that threw a party once.
It was lame, and Reuben was constantly by his side, dragging him around to every other person he wanted to talk to. Everyone was way too out of it and Chip had no idea what they could've taken to be this fucked up.
There had been this disgusting stench everywhere that they were trying to cover up with millions of incense sticks, and Reuben told him to keep away from the drinks they were serving and to just keep drinking the stuff they brought themselves.
Chip had patted Reuben on the shoulder and said he'd leave early in the night. Reuben had agreed that the party was lame- yet he ended up coming back somewhere around 6AM while Chip was getting ready for work.
Walking towards that apartment was certainly a strain for his brain, trying to remember the paths they took. And after getting lost one or two times, he finally found it, the main entrance being unlocked, and he started walking up the stairs.
He remembered this. The metal railings were rusted and smelled like nickles, and the wall paint was crumbling to reveal brick.
He came to a slow stop in front of the door that he knew to be the right one.
A little bit hesitant, he forced himself to ring the bell.
It took a moment. Chip whipped back and forth on his heels, looking around the hallway.
Then the door opened. A small gap, at least-
Chip could see a face peek through, the chain that locks the door keeping it from opening too far.
“We don't want to buy anything. Thanks.”
The door almost closed on Chip, but he put his foot in the door, awkwardly smiling at the man in front of him. He could barely see him- the apartment behind him was clouded in darkness.
“I'm not selling, uh, anything, I'm just- you're friends with Reuben?”
The door stopped pressing against his foot. The person perked up a little. “Price?”
“Yeah. Uh. He hasn't been home. In a few days.”
The latch unlocked, and the door slowly opened. It was still a small-ish gap, but it wasn't as awkward to look at anymore. It was this tall, pale man, with narrow eyes. “You're Chip, right?”
“Um. Yeah! Yeah, I am. I've just been wondering if he's maybe here, or if you know where he's crashing…”
For a moment, that man looked behind himself, and Chip heard quiet laughter. When he turned back, there was a fading smirk on his face. “Oh, for sure. There's this place past the river, kind of forest-y. I think he's camping in-” he was interrupted as someone seemed to hit him on the shoulder, and he was laughing again. “Like in these cabins.”
“...Camping.”
“Mhm. He loves camping.”
Chip wanted to tell them to fuck off- but instead he gave them a forced, polite smile. “Well then. Good to know.”
“You're gonna go look for him?”
“...Why should I?”
He shrugged, leaning against the doorway. “It's not particularly safe out there. Maybe you should check on him.”
“Well-” a seed of doubt was all Chip needed to get him going sometimes. He swallowed dryly. “I'll see what I can do.”
-
It was an idiotic idea, so he obviously didn't go to those woods.
But he didn't stop there- he went to Reuben's workplace, asking if anyone had seen him- and the first guy he approached said that they're not allowed to give out infos on workers, but thankfully he was pulled aside by someone else.
“A friend of Price?”
Chip nodded quickly. He didn't recognize this guy from any of the parties he went to with Reuben.
“He hasn't been to work for a pretty long time, actually.”
“How long?”
The guy turned his head like he wasn't sure. “A month? Look, uh, word of advice. There's something odd going on with that guy. If I were you I wouldn't go looking for him.”
Chip smiled awkwardly and thanked him as he walked out. Maybe Reuben had switched jobs without telling him. It wasn't a crazy idea- they definitely didn't talk too much about the details of their own lives.
There would still be the police station left, but they weren't about to tell him private information if Chip couldn't prove any connection to Reuben- he wasn't even on the lease contract- but even if he had been arrested, Chip would've been the only person he would've tried to call.
It was all just spinning around and around. Nothing made sense.
He checked out the downstairs neighbors again. Nothing. He even considered staking out at their door to see if they were coming in or out, but the idea was just as quickly discarded.
An idea that he couldn't get out of his head, though…
Allport has seen a few missing people. It was natural- it was a big city, and losing track of some residents was just bound to happen. But the cases were odd, and never solved, and Chip was just violently reminded of it recently-
Drey Ferin had gone missing about 5 years ago, and yet, Chip knew that he saw him just a little less than two weeks ago.
It was a long shot, Drey had never even met Reuben, Chip didn't even know if he just went insane in that scary mansion and imagined him.
But… or course it was a long shot. It wasn't a shot at all, actually. The only trait they share was that they were both currently missing.
Drey always had good advice, though. He seemed to know so much for someone that seemed so aloof.
At the very least, Chip just had to know if that was really Drey.
At the very least, he had to go back there and try.
-
An open window… was the only opening Chip had last time.
This time there wasn't anything he could climb to. His mind still wasn't convinced of what it saw, but at the very least it meant that there was someone in there- whether that was a squatter, a poltergeist, or a man that was long considered dead or gone.
So he just circled the mansion as best as he could. It was a crick in the neck to walk around, looking up all the time.
It was worth it, though.
After a while of staring, he finally thought he saw an open window- not in the study where he ended up in last time, but instead on a completely different side of the mansion, on one of the higher floors
And as he was staring and staring- scanning the wall to find a good way to climb it- he twitched as a light turned on in that room.
A moment later it flickered off again, but Chip knew what he saw. It wasn't incredibly surprising when he saw someone end up standing there at the windowsill, staring at the beautiful view- or maybe, directly at Chip.
He clicked his flashlight on. Which was a really stupid move, he knew that- but at the very least, if there really was someone, he'd be flashing the light right into their eyes and he could try to run while their eyesight adjusted.
A strip of light illuminated the floor in front of Chip, before he raised it to hold it against the ominous silhouette.
And there was someone, leaning against the window frame. Their face first pulled away at the light, eyes narrowed- but then they looked back down again, this time with an expression that Chip could only describe as astonishment.
A little older, but not by much, and longer hair, dark, bushy eyebrows- stupidly, Chip moved to wave. This was Drey Ferrin.
Drey did not wave back. His face remained in that way, eyebrows pulled up like he was asking Chip what the hell he was doing here.
With his head he nodded off to the side, and disappeared back into the darkness of the mansion. And although it wasn't completely clear, Chip figured he wanted him by the front door.
This was his last out- but then really, at this point it didn't seem like he really had an out anymore. His boots were wading through the wet grass and his shoulder was bumping against the exterior of the mansion, his hands numb from the cold.
If Drey was here, and alive, then it wouldn't be crazy to assume that others might be too.
-
“It's really you.”
Drey stood in the entrance of the mansion, wide-eyed and arms crossed, and Chip couldn't believe his eyes no matter how often he blinked.
“I could say the same, man-” Chip laughed nervously, and maybe it was because he wasn't twelve years old anymore, but Drey looked smaller. Chip was actually coming up to his shoulder now.
The entrance door to the mansion was huge, and the stairs leading up to it were just slightly slippery- around the door were these large protruding windows, and Chip wondered how anyone could live in a building this extravagant without going just a little mad.
They went inside, and Chip kicked his shoes dry on the large mat of the entrance.
“Let's, uh… Let's go somewhere comfortable.”
Drey kicked the door close with the back of his foot, and when Chip turned to look at him, he noticed a strange contraption around the door- solid strings hanging around the doorframe and by the handle, making it look almost like a trap.
Chip didn't ask.
There was a heavy chandelier hanging over their heads as they moved to a room on the side to the two swinging stairs, but the light wasn't on. Instead, there were warm lamps by the walls that lit the room up enough to make it well visible.
It felt moody, like out of a movie, maybe a mansion haunted by ghosts…
Looking at Drey, it almost felt real. Maybe Chip and Reuben were cursed on the day they arrived here, and Chip was about to pay the price for disturbing the peace of something beyond his understanding.
But Drey seemed completely at ease. So Chip followed, and didn't turn on his heel to run when they entered a spacy kitchen. Drey motioned towards a small table in the corner. Chip was quick to sit.
“I'd offer you tea, but, uh-” He cocked his head into his shoulder like he was trying to scratch his chin with it. “I don't like tea.”
Chip just hummed. He felt nervous, his heart beating too fast.
“Why are you here, Chip?” He pulled the chair out with his foot and sat down, a heavy huff on his lips. For a moment Chip was just slightly weirded out why he had never uncrossed his arms- but as he was staring at it, he realized that they weren't crossed- they were in a sling.
“I saw you.” He swallowed dryly. “I don't know if you recognized me, but I was here a few weeks ago.” It wasn't worth denying anyway. And if there was anyone that would let Chip get away with breaking and entering, it would be Drey. “We thought it was abandoned. And thought it might be easy cash.”
Drey smiled like he was thinking about slapping Chip upside the head. “An abandoned mansion with a randomly opened window?”
“Squatters, alarm systems, wild animals, I know, I know. It wasn't the smartest decision.”
“By literally no means…” he said under his breath. He crossed his legs and moved forward, flashing a grin. “So? Why'd you take so long to come back? Didn't miss me?”
“Of course I missed you man.” Chip scratched his cheek. He was warming up in the mansion, and as big as it was, it wasn't as cold as he expected it to be. He took off his beanie and stuffed it into his pocket. “I just thought… I don't know. We all kind of thought we'd never see you again.”
“I thought so too.” He sighed, leaning back and swinging his foot up on the chair. “I don't really want anyone to know I'm here but- I mean, as long as it's just you, I'm happy to have you here.”
“...But why?” Chip stared at the table in front of him. One day Drey was just gone, no indication telling where he went, or if he was going to come back. The thought that he had been here all along, just on the off-skirts of the city… It was unnerving. Chip had lost many people throughout his life, and thinking that they might just be somewhere he didn't bother to look freaked him out.
He would expect something like that of Drey- never settling down, never marrying or having kids, wild and free at heart. So at the very least- it wasn't expected, but it wasn't unbelievable.
“It's, uh… it's complicated.” He sighed slowly. “Family shit. I don't want anything to do with them.”
“No one knows?”
“Nope,” He popped his lips.
“And you're here all alone?”
Drey looked aside. “Yeah.” For a moment they were both silent, but Drey cleared his throat. “Why are you here, though? If it were to see me, you would've come much earlier.”
“...” Chip frowned. He did want to see Drey, but he had been pushing it away, or denied what he had seen. “Truth be told, I wanted to ask you something.”
Drey's lip twitched. “Shoot.”
“I have a friend.” The nail of his thumb dug into the wooden table, slotting into the ridged in between. “He gets into a lot of trouble, and I'm used to it, but I'm afraid that he's been dealing with something worse.”
“And what would that be?” Drey actually leaned forward in interest.
As Chip's mouth opened, he had the sinking feeling that there was actually no good reason why he should be talking to Drey about this- there was no link between Reuben and Drey, and the idea was a stretch anyway. But…
Maybe he just needed someone who he could talk to. Maybe that's all this was.
“A few days ago… maybe a week. We were low on rent, and were struggling to get the money. And one day he tells me dealt with it. And then… he's gone. He hasn't been home for days now, not replying to me, his neighbor friends are also seemingly gone- he quit his job a month ago, and I don't even know if he's employed- I mean, he has to be, he was still going out every night to work!”
“...So, you think he's gone missing?”
It was odd to see Drey uncharacteristically serious. Chip felt nervous. But at least he wasn't dismissive.
“I don't know. We don't tell each other everything, but sometimes… I just get a bad feeling. That’s all.”
“Would you know a place where he would go if things went south?”
Chip bit his lip. The apartment was Reuben’s safe haven. Chip was Reuben’s safe haven. There wasn’t really anywhere else either of them could go. “I… not really. I asked some of his friends if they knew where he was crashing but-” His nose crinkled in annoyance at the memory. “They were just fucking with me. I don’t know.”
Drey nodded towards him once to prompt him. “What’d they say?”
“That he’s, like…” He rubbed his arm, feeling his glove warm the skin there. “Camping. In the woods beyond the river, in some cabins. Reuben would never go camping.”
His expression seemed to change into something a lot more grave than even before. Chip felt his stomach sink- it wasn’t like he really expected Drey to know anything, but from the sound of it he really did… and Chip almost wished he didn’t.
“It’s…” Drey leaned back, looking over his shoulder out the window like he didn’t want to look at Chip. “I know in that part of the city- it’s just woods, and then there’s a few houses and cabins, and a really bad crowd of people live there. Really bad. And it’s pretty common that people end up asking them for favors if it’s urgent, even though it’s ridiculously hard to even get into the know with these guys. I… don't know if your friend is there.”
Chip perked up. It wasn't hope that surged in his heart- because he had been hoping before he came in here, that Reuben might just be home after all. He actually felt heavy anxiety in his gut- Reuben could be in actual trouble.
“I don't want you going there, Chip.”
“But I will.” His voice trembled, but his mind was set.
Drey sighed. “I know. I know, kid.” He felt uncomfortable as he adjusted himself on the seat, trying to stare down Drey as if to challenge him. “It's not like I can stop you. But… I really don't think you should go.”
“...Drey. It's my friend. I will go.”
He sighed, heavy. His eyes were closed as he spoke. “You see that pin on my jacket?”
Chip scanned him for a moment, before landing on a rather small, metallic pin that was peeking out slightly. “Yeah. What about it?”
“Take it out please.”
He hesitated, but not for too long. His hands were fiddling uselessly with the pin, screwing off the back with medium success- he took off his gloves and threw them on the table and tried again, carefully handling both pieces to the pin. The metal was cold in his hand, and the end tip of it was sharp enough to make him bleed, if he wasn't careful.
It showed a little bird, its wings spread wide.
“It's my lucky charm.” Drey grinned at Chip, but he looked tired. “If you're going to that awful place- at least promise me to take it.”
“...I never pegged you as a superstitious guy.”
He laughed, his chest shaking with it. He slowly stood up, pushing his chair back in with his hip. “Oh, I'm superstitious, alright. I'm just cool about it.”
Chip had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Maybe it was an old guy joke. “Well…”
They walked back to the entrance- Chip was glad that Drey got the idea that they could talk another day. And he definitely wanted to, it was refreshing to speak to someone like him again after years and years…
At the exit, Drey stepped on a pedal, that made a lot of strings and wire move around- and with wonder, Chip watched the door open up.
“So that's what that's for.”
“Pretty good, huh?”
Chip nodded absentmindedly.
“One last thing.”
Drey stopped, his full attention on Chip. “What's up.”
…Maybe it was some kind of civic duty to deliver these news to Drey. Who knew. “It's a little awkward to say now when I'm leaving, uh, I hope it's ok, but. Do you know what, um… happened? In your family.”
Drey smiled a little sadly. “With Ava?”
“Yeah. I'm sorry.”
“Don't be. She's resting in peace, yeah?”
“Yeah.” He felt choked up. “I know she is.”
-
(“Where are you going?”
Lizzie had stopped in her tracks, back then, a heavy bag slung over her shoulder. She didn't turn around, and wouldn't do so for the entire conversation.
“Out.”
“Don't give me that crap.”
Her shoulders moved with a large breath, and it came out audibly shaky. Her hands readjusted on the bag strap. “I'm going to look for her.”
“Lizzie…” There was compassion there first, but it soon turned into indignation. “And you're gonna find her faster than the fucking police?”
“Oh, so now you trust the cops.” She took her key from the bowl that was standing on the kitchen counter, moving around slowly and a little quietly.
“You know how much money is on the line to find her? Of course they're gonna try.” He stepped forward, and he didn't know if he should make a racket to wake up Arlin- but he's been awfully sick and needed his sleep- but if anyone could talk sense into her, it would be him.
He decided to sneak quietly.
“I know her. Better than anyone else. And I have a lead.”
“...Please don't go, Lizzie.”
She opened the door, but hesitated before she stormed out. Chip had hope in his heart, for just a moment.
“I have to.” Her face moved just slightly as she stepped outside, and Chip could see the tip of her nose, the outline of her eyelashes. “Bye, Chip.”
The door had closed with a resounding sound. Not loud enough to wake up Arlin.
It was the last time he spoke to Lizzie, and she had never turned around to face him once.)