#📖 the detective and the crook 🖋

[introductions-are-a-spook]

“Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it.”

-Donna Tartt, The Secret History

#dark acadamia aesthetic #dark academia #dark academia moodboard #moodboard #📖 the detective and the crook 🖋 #f/o moodboard #dark academia blue #dark academia quote #dark academia quotes #gay #gay moodboard

[introductions-are-a-spook]

Bakery Dates and London Strolls

#📖 the detective and the crook 🖋 #london aesthetic

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Another Maxwell and Andrew Moodboard

#dark acadamia aesthetic #dark academia #dark academia moodboard #moodboard #📖 the detective and the crook 🖋 #f/o moodboard #dark academia blue

[introductions-are-a-spook]

Welcome to the new-and-improved blog! My s/i is named Andrew Winston and my f/o is Egoism from Realicide (I call him Maxwell Benoit).

Writing tag: ✒️ You Write and I’ll Read 📖

Ship Tag: 📖 The Detective and the Crook 🖋

DNI if you’re a te.rf, homo.phobic, trans.phobic, rac.ist, or otherwise make it a point to hate or exclude people. I also don’t accept interaction from pro-sh.ippers, ns.fw blogs, yan.dere blogs, or otherwise.

I make imagines, picrews, moodboards, edits/ wallpapers, and stories (mainly one-shots); requests for any of these are ~open~

Story masterlist: Publishing is all finished!

1. {x} 4. {x} 7. {x}

2. {x} 5. {x} 8. {x}

3. {x} 6. {x} 9. {x}

#📖 The Detective and The Crook 🖋 #f/o x s/i #✒️ you write and i’ll read 📖

[introductions-are-a-spook]

When Smoke Meets the Trees

❁〚 Prologue 〛❁

A forewarning: This story contains a variety of mature topics. Mentions and/or depictions of murder, suicide, several non-violent crimes, several violent crimes, kidnapping, arranged marriage, transphobia, homophobia, drugs, alcohol, nudity, swearing and sexual themes are all present. Though the measure in which each of these happen varies, ranging from common to rare, I would advise either being prepared for these or staving off. Should any of my readers notice something missing in this list, I ask that you comment on it. Thank you!

I’d always known that I was special.

I didn’t need to be told- by my mother, sister, or teachers- it was a knowledge that came from within.

Yes, I was important, I was unique, and I was rare.

But I couldn’t predict the way I’d be proved right.

“Maxwell, look at this,” Henry called me over. We’d gotten matching magnifying glasses for Christmas that morning and had promptly begun scouring his house for anything and everything we could find.

“What is it?” I asked, leaning in beside him and his bookshelf. I followed his eyes to an odd sort of ‘seam.’

He picked away some of the paint, exposing the thin, clean gap that ran along the length of the wood frame.

We shared a quiet smile and started to tug on the shelf.

It came away with a dull cracking, cobwebs and decades-old paint falling from it. We were met with an ornate black door, radiating with a dewy smell and mystery. It seemed to vibrate with its discovery, eager to feel eyes on it again after an undoubtedly long time.

Grinning and yelping with glee, we both reached for the knocker on the front.

“You’re the guest today,” he offered. “Care to do the honours?”

I nodded fervently, giving the ring a few taps. The wood was old and thick, and no answer would’ve carried through to us even if there’d been someone in there to give it.

We were, however, met with a quiet mewling. “Is that what I think it is?”

I grabbed the handle and pulled. It came away with a thump, and Henry commented how fortunate we were that a key wasn’t needed.

We could both taste the sooty air, an earthy, almost decay-like smell hanging heavy. It was a tiny room, with only a desk, chair, fireplace, and pinboard.

It was the decoration that startled us.

Candles, small chests, and bottles lined the head of the desk, old newspapers and even older scrolls stacked up on the chair. The one shelf held a curious collection of books about anarchism and magic. The fireplace was caked in ash, but with not a lick of flame in sight. Medical anatomy posters lined every free space on the wall, interrupted only by a skeleton that made me gulp.

And in the middle of the desk, on top of an old bloodied dagger and handwritten manuscript called Der Einzige und sein Eigentum, sat a thin, black cat.

Henry grabbed my arm and the cat met his eye.

“Maxwell, should we…” he trailed off, considering. He had the most reverend look on his face, like he had been burned by something holy but couldn’t get enough of the pain. “How long do you think it’s been since this room has been opened?”

“When was the library painted?”

“A decade before I was born.”

“So, more than twenty-seven years ago. Oddly long life for a house cat, isn’t it? So either there’s another way in, or-”

“-or something more is going on here.”

We scoured the room. The only other opening was the chimney, round as an arm. To small even for the cat, who still lounged and looked at us.

“What’s your name?” I muttered to it, gingerly petting its fur.

“Maxwell, look at this,” Henry pointed to the board. The page he was musing over looked to be torn out of a book, covered in Latin scribblings.

“Vivamus, moriendum est,” he started, rattling the whole page off without a care as to what it might do.

While he did so, the cat- who I found to be a girl- allowed me to pick her up.

As soon as he finished, the skeleton in the corner began to stir, a brief illusion of clothes and skin making it look almost human before the cat took the dagger in her teeth and bolted out of the room and the display went back to its boney state.

I stared at Henry, both of us wide eyed, mouths agape.

“Fucking hell. It’s sorcery,” he breathed.

“Necromancy,” I corrected. “How else would the cat still be alive?”

He put a hand to his chin and slowly smiled. “We could use this.”

I looked at him with suspicion. “We’ve only just discovered it.”

“So we practise it, in the woods out back. Then we go to school together- detectives! Think of all the mysteries we could solve together,” he grabbed my arm again, this time in excitement.

I was just starting to come around his point of view when two pairs of eyes peaked around the corner of the door and bookshelf. One, the cat’s. The other, those of the girl holding the cat, and the dagger. Henry’s little sister.

“Serena, look what we’ve found!” His smile was one of genuine cheer. I elbowed him, trying to caution him from telling a fourteen-year-old about something like this. Regardless, she listened as he explained everything.

“But this is dangerous!” she protested at the end. “You’re always messing with stuff you shouldn’t!”

“Everything is dangerous, Ren,” he attempted to comfort her. “But that’s why I’ve always been careful, and so has he,” he gestured to me.

“I don’t like it,” she went on. “I won’t let you!”

“How do you plan to stop us?” I proposed. Henry shot me a vexed look. “I’m serious.”

“I’ll think of something,” she sputtered for a moment, face set in stone.

Henry pursed his lips. “Ren, listen-”

“No you listen to me! If you get into this crazy magic stuff you’re going to get someone killed. And you’ll never have time for me, either!”

Henry stopped. “Alright. You win, we'll stop,” he conceded. I stared at him incredulously.

“Make sure it stays that way.” With that, Serena gave a satisfied huff and left the cat behind to walk away, pocketing the dagger.

“What the hell, Henry? We can’t just forget about-”

“I know,” he assured me. “So let’s not get caught.” At this, I smiled.

Stumbling across magic in an old Scottish chalet certainly wasn’t the point I expected my life to take a turn. But at least it proved my pride right.

#Prologue #✒️ you write and i’ll read 📖 #📖 the detective an the crook 🖋 #writing #my writing #tw murder #tw suicide #tw crime #tw kidnapping #tw arranged marriage #tw transphobia #tw homophobia #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw nudity #tw swearing #tw suggestive #tw weapons

[introductions-are-a-spook]

When Smoke Meets the Trees

❁〚 Epilogue 〛❁

I tilted my hand in the lamplight, admiring the sparkle of the wedding ring Andrew had bought me.

He’d proposed whilst, oddly enough, hanging off a bridge. A group of gamblers he’d swindled had hired me to crucify him but were satisfied when he fell.

I thought I would have to dredge him up from the water, but he came to my office not two hours later, sopping wet with the tiny black box in hand.

He told me it’d been his plan the whole time, just like he had the last thousand times I’d been called upon to deduce his misdeeds. I’d succeeded in becoming a private detective, and since he’d continued to raise the stakes in his thievery, I more and more often found myself on his case.

My clients didn’t need to know he was my husband, of course.

He was just like the water he came to me covered in. Uncontainable, but a crucial part of me all the same.

I blew a puff of smoke and resolved to clean my desk to end the day. Looking out my window, I saw an ordinary squirrel scurry up a tree.

It got me thinking.

My door opened and in walked Andrew, hair still wet from a shower. My nose crinkled as he pressed a kiss to my cheek.

“Andrew, love, I…” I trailed off, carefully considering my words. “I think I want to visit Henry,” I admitted.

He pondered this for a moment. “It’s your call, I trust you. Do you want me along?”

I pursed my lips. “No, I want to do this alone.”

He nodded.

A week later, I took a flight to his hometown, a quiet place on the coast of Scotland. The sky stayed a tranquil shade of grey for the duration of my stay, frequently dipping in and out of rain. Good. Henry would’ve liked it that way.

I didn’t explain myself when I visited the church graveyard. I slipped in during the wee hours of the morning, Phantom padding along beside me, setting an umbrella over me, a blanket beneath me, and sitting next to the headstone for a time. I lost myself in his copy of Sherlock Holmes for god-knows-how-long. I even managed to believe the cool rock was his shoulder, for just a brief minute.

I was drawn back into reality by an underlined sentence. His frequent annotations never stood out to me, but this was done in pen.

“‘No, my friend, you might find me a dangerous guest. I have my plans laid, and all will be well.’”

I sighed, a sound that bubbled into a quiet chuckle. Even in death he put me to work.

Dangerous guest… at the church? God’s house was no resting place for one knee-deep in the magic of the dead. Plans laid… did he want me to move him, to where? Or was I overthinking?

The sun was just starting to rise above the dense trees, and it’s rays allowed me a glimpse of a nearby glint. Glass, and a tarnished silver handle.

Henry’s magnifying glass.

I stifled the urge to snatch it, instead gingerly taking it in a handkerchief. It felt heavy in my hand, the memories it carried to pool in my mind.

A small, familiar inscription caught my eye through the lens. Gz xcvy zno gv xgz.

I turned to Phantom, and she met my gaze in an almost human way.

“What are you thinking, girl?” I whispered.

In response, she stood, stretched, and started off out the back gate, following a familiar purple butterfly and squirrel leading to the thick forest beyond. I got up to follow her, leaving all but the magnifying glass behind.

She led me on for a while, occasionally pausing to pounce on the large bugs that crossed her path. We’d diverged from the main path half an hour ago, and only at the end of a faint one and the beginning of unaltered vegetation.

I was starting to get nervous that I'd lose her, so I scooped her up while her back was turned. She mewled and fidgeted until I was forced to set her down.

Down into the brush she went, bolting onward and forcing me to sprint to keep up. I called to her until I saw her come to a sudden stop in a clearing.

It was a cabin. Smoke rose from a small chimney, and the window glowed with a small fire. Phantom trotted up to it like she owned it, purring and rubbing against the brick base.

My stomach had begun to hurt, so I was grateful for the break. “Come back, we don’t know what’s in there,” I scolded her. She didn’t comply, of course.

But I did know, didn’t I? From Serena. This must’ve been Henry’s hideout.

Hand pressed to my gut, I tentatively approached the door and gave it a knock. When nobody answered, Phantom bumped against my shins as if to tell me to go in.

It was musty inside, but warm. Just as Serena said- just like the hidden room- I found books, maps, herbs, the old skeleton and a million other things. He even had pinboards with newspapers and red string and a stamp across each saying SOLVED.

Phantom hopped up on the desk, and I was overcome with nostalgia. It’d been nearly a decade since the discovery. I caught my face in a mirror on the wall. My face had changed with age and hormones and experience, but it was more than that.

I thought about all I’d done. I’d gone through a myriad of lows, losing friends and family, almost getting killed, being beaten, bound, and berated. But I’d also had so many highs- from putting myself through school, to getting a job I loved, transitioning, marrying, and even adopting a child. But Henry hadn’t. He’d never be able to experience any of that sort of thing. That fact had torn me apart since his murder.

There was a letter on his desk, addressed to me. I didn’t hesitate to read it.

Dearest Maxwell,

If you are reading this, I am, without a doubt, dead. I beg you, don’t hold it against my sister. She needed to do what she believed was right.

But I left everything you need to know at school, so I doubt I’m telling you anything you haven’t already considered.

Instead, I’ll leave you with this:

Life is more than what we see here. And though my body may die, my spirit lives on in all I have done. What we discovered. If you ever miss me, turn back to it.

As for the discovery, we know two things: that it is not original to us, and that we have only scratched the surface. This is the true meaning of the code. If you care to harness its true potential, look to our predecessor.

There are people out there that are just like you, Maxwell. Andrew is one of them, though I can’t guarantee he knows it yet. No doubt you’ve gotten the sense that you are meant to represent something? So do they. Find them.

When you do uncover the true secrets of necromancy, I ask that you do not use them to bring me back. In doing so, you would only tether me to a world that is no longer mine. In turn, you would be looking backwards instead of forwards, and I don’t want that for you. Or to quote;

“‘You might find me a dangerous guest. I have my plans laid, and all will be well.’”

I love you. And I look forward to all that you’re going to do.

With thanks for everything, take care.

Your friend and brother always,

Henry Percival Mackay

I didn’t cry, nor did I choke up. I had finished with that a long time ago. I simply swallowed with calm resolve to respect what he’d left behind, and the ways in which he lived on.

Phantom had wandered over to the bookshelf, curling up beside her old and battered copy of Der Einzige und sein Eigentum. I’d realised a long time ago the she- well, he- was the author, the teal man in the flames.

“Did you know?” I asked her, going over and scratching her ears. “That you would take this form?” She almost seemed to shake her head. “Poor thing, you just wanted to write your books, didn’t you?” I laughed. “It’s an honour to know you, at least.”

No wonder we were allowed to discover this. Phantom was just using us to get her back in his original body. The skeleton! The thought made me laugh even harder.

I earned myself an indignant scratch when I held my sides and snickered, “Well we can’t both be Max. I should start calling you Mr. Stirner.” I was met with an unimpressed look. “Calm down, I’ll still help you! I’m curious to see where this goes.”

What a life I’d lived, and I still had more to do! Who cared why I was special? I was me. And that, as I’d found time and time again, was the best way to be.

❁〚 Acknowledgements 〛❁

I made the mistake of publishing my first draft and calling it done. It didn’t take me long to realise that the story was, frankly, shit. So here I am, half a year later, with a drastically different, yet finally finished project I am genuinely very proud of.

To everyone who has read any of my works, thank you. To everyone who interacts with the posts and/ or leaves comments, thank you even more so.

Thank you to the creators of Realicide for making such a wonderful series. Your work has touched me and many others, and will always be important to me.

To my friends, Nikolai, Autumn, Echo, and Viv, your feedback and support have meant the world to me.

A quick shoutout to my school librarian, who has always been patient and kind to me through my exploits into the world of reading and writing.

To another teacher of mine, Anessa, for making sure I’m okay and reigning me in when I get too ambitious.

An extra thank you to Teresa, for always supporting me. Even though we are separated by distance, knowing I always have someone in my corner is an ever-present comfort.

Above all, a special thank you to August, who read what I asked her to, listened when I rambled, and gave me so much honest criticism. This story- my characters- wouldn’t be here without you- nor would I be the person I am today if I never met you.

And finally, thank you to me. I poured a lot of time and tears into this damn thing, and I’m gonna take pride in that. I don’t think that’s so unreasonable.

See you in the next story, everyone. Until then, cheers!

#Epilogue and Acknowledgments #✒️ you write and i’ll read 📖 #📖 the detective an the crook 🖋 #writing #my writing #tw murder #tw suicide #tw crime #tw kidnapping #tw arranged marriage #tw transphobia #tw homophobia #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw nudity #tw swearing #tw suggestive #tw weapons

[introductions-are-a-spook]

When Smoke Meets the Trees

❁〚 Chapter Five 〛❁

The next day was busy, and I was glad for it. If I could stay on my toes, I could concentrate. Luckily, Andrew and his makeshift entourage were all at least a year older than me, so I didn’t have to cross classes with my wanted persons. Instead, I only shared one of my forensics classes with Isabella.

It was in that same classroom that a study session was being held, later in the evening. People bustled about, creating enough noise to cover my tracks.

I located her by her white bow and made sure to sit a bit closer to her than usual.

She was consumed by a drawing she was working on in the margianes of her notes. I cleared my throat, but she didn’t raise her head. “Mmm, yes?”

“I was hoping you could help me with yesterday’s lesson- I didn’t make it to class.”

She set her pencil down, starting with an, “Of course. What were you confused about-” she stopped, seeing who it was that asked. “Oh, hi Maxwell. What do you need?”

“Truth be told, yesterday’s predicament has become a fair deal more complicated,” I admitted in a low voice once I had her attention. “I’ve made some hard-earned breakthroughs, which unfortunately means I’ve been driven to you for information once more.”

“I heard it was an interesting day all around. Uh,” she leaned a bit close, lowering her voice. “Do you think whatever you’re doing is safe?”

“Nothing about this is safe. If you have any qualms with that, cut all possible ties with me now.” Who gave a damn about justice? It was about time I started cleaning up this mess, by any means necessary.

“I’m already involved. It’s alright, I’ll help,” she affirmed.

“If you’re certain, then. What do you know about what happened yesterday?” Hopefully something about the two potential culprits, so I’d have something to go off of.

“Andrew told me you were going to meet up, but you never came,” she started.

I interjected in my defence. “I wasn’t especially keen on seeing him after finding out that I was just a sideboy to him.”

She hesitated, before continuing, “He said Jennifer was pretty upset about seeing you two. Turns out they’re actually in a sort of ‘arranged marriage’ that has yet to happen. He likes her, but I know he loves you. Either way, I don’t blame you for wanting out. I would.”

“Arranged? Why?” She brought one of the two names up, not me. Now I just had to see if I could garner a motive out of this. Purely for the sake of the investigation, of course. Never because of Andrew.

“Their parents. Both families are very religious, and not appreciative of his… diverse romantic taste.” I nodded in understanding, prodding her on. “And I guess they were worried he was going to give them a bad name. His brother already has a family and his sibling is adamantly not interested in anyone, so he was the next in line.”

I hardly cared about religion- hell, I’d skipped Mass to practice more times than I could count- and this was a prime reason. I mulled all this over for a moment, and she was patient until I began to question her further.

“What would be her motive for threatening me, then?”

“Threatening you? Who would do such a thing?” A man’s voice came from behind me. I froze, trying to hide it.

I turned around, meeting Cassius’ chilling golden gaze.

“A girl in my other class. Said she’d spill something I did while drunk on Saturday,” I lied. The satisfaction in my lack of stuttering was quickly drowned out by Cassius’ imposing form.

“Maybe she wants a date, or she’s upset that you stole hers. I mean, you slept with Andrew on Saturday, right? I’d bet anything it’s Jennifer you’re talking about,” he chuckled, a normally warm sound that I could hear the mirthlessness in it.

Much to my chagrin, however, he sat down right next to me, effectively trapping me between himself and Isabella. I swallowed, faintly glaring over my glasses at him. I wouldn’t be intimidated by this trick a third time. “Andrew and I didn’t do anything. He’s your best friend, shouldn’t he have told you as much?”

Isabella had gone back to her drawing, shoulders hunched even more than before.

Cassius pointed at himself innocently. “I don’t tend to pry into people’s affairs, Maxwell. But I have to say, there’s something awfully… magical, about yours,” he tried a wink. There was venom in the eyes behind it, plain as day.

My stomach flipped. Magic? Cassius’ glazed expression grew impatient by the second, there was no time to lose. “Ah really? Anything to get ahead, I suppose,” Surely he was testing me. Playing his side seemed like the best option.

“Ah, so you know what I’m talking about,” he tilted his head and smiled. “If you could work things out with Andrew, maybe you could make he and I’s duo into a trio.”

I felt like I was sitting on pins and needles with fervent curiosity. “Is that what you are?”

“Indeed. Unfortunate, what happened to your friend- you both kept a great many secrets. I would’ve liked for the both of you to join us,” he divulged without a hint of grief. “But,” he held a finger to his lips, “It’s necromancy, no? Couldn’t you simply… bring him back?”

My eyes widened, stomach lurching. His words were like a punch, leaving my mouth hanging open stupidly. But I bounced back, shaking my head and clenching my jaw.

He began to continue, but I cupped a hand around my mouth and spoke lowly. “Excuse me, I should’ve thought of it sooner- perhaps we ought to meet to discuss this at a more inconspicuous time and location?”

He gave me a knowing look, looking past the lies I’d told to my true intentions. “Of course. I’ll meet you on the bench tomorrow at five, alright?”

“Alright. See you then,” I closed out. And finally, finally, he got up, allowing me to breathe. “Thank you for everything, Cassius.”

He cocked his chin with a leer. “I look forward to it, Maxwell.”

I turned to find Isabella had quietly crept out. I didn’t know when nor did I care. I watched the hall through frosted glass. As soon as I saw him open the door, I bolted for the exit in the opposite direction, towards the boy’s dorms.

❁

My plan got slightly diverted along the way there, however.

I paused upon hearing crying coming from an empty classroom.

“Shhh, darling, shh. You’re awake now, you’re safe,” a woman’s voice crooned. I would’ve walked away assuming it was some nightmare, if that hadn’t been Jennifer’s voice.

I crept on the sides of my shoes for a silent approach, stopping outside the doorframe.

“It keeps happening, I don’t know how to stop it,” a man’s voice- Cassius’ voice!- quietly sobbed.

“We’ll figure it all out darling, just let me help you.”

“No, we can’t, I- I have Serena, and you’re engaged to Andrew,” his own tears cut him off.

She stayed quiet for a moment, and I took the opportunity to inch closer.

There they were, sprawled in a corner, his head in her lap as her fingers carded through his hair.

“Serena doesn’t love you for you, Cassius, she loves using you,” she told him. “If she ever did, she doesn’t now. All she cares about is destroying that stupid witchcraft.” So Serena was only using Cassius to gain information?

“Which will probably mean me in the process,” he mourned, moving to bury his head in her shoulder.

“Not if I can help it. I’ll make her pay, just you wait and see.”

“No. You don’t know what will happen if you break her control of me. Only Henry and Maxwell did-” I didn’t, since the idea of controlling a living person was new to me- “but she caught me when I tried to question Maxwell about it,” his words spilled out of him like a terrified flood. To him, there must’ve been no time to waste in getting them out before he was caught again.

“I love you, Cassius, but I can’t let you roll over this way,” her voice was only gently stern, like a challenge rather than a command.

“No, no, you can’t- you need to stay away from me. And away from her. You don’t know what she’s capable of-”

“But I do. And I don’t care how dangerous it is. You worry enough about that for the both of us. If Isabella and I push Maxwell away from Andrew, it’ll only drive them closer together. Then Serena will be forced to make a move which will rat her out in the process.”

“But-”

“No buts, darling.” She pulled him close and kissed him. “ I’ll protect you no matter what.”

A moment passed and they didn’t say anything else of value. I’d had enough. If Jennifer was right, there was only one person to go to now.

#Chapter Five #✒️ you write and i’ll read 📖 #📖 the detective an the crook 🖋 #writing #my writing #tw murder #tw suicide #tw crime #tw kidnapping #tw arranged marriage #tw transphobia #tw homophobia #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw nudity #tw swearing #tw suggestive #tw weapons

[introductions-are-a-spook]

When Smoke Meets the Trees

❁〚 Chapter Four 〛❁

I sat hunched over my desk, staring at Henry’s code, in the back of my book. The lighting I’d felt had been a brief fear-driven flash, it seemed. It took a half hour of picking my nails, skimming through novels I’d already read, and laying flat on my bed before I finally pulled myself up to figure it out.

I shifted Caesar with Henry and I’s ages- both twenty- room numbers, and however many other significant numbers between one and twenty-six I could think of. All of them gave me more gibberish. No matter, that would have been far to easy. I tapped my foot in agitation. I was proud of myself for getting started, but I also had to continue to grapple with the frustration of everything else.

I’d never tried Vingere before- since Henry never liked it- so that was last on my list. Atbash was useless. There was no magic I knew of that could fix this, and I could feel real despair beginning to weigh in my gut.

Everytime I hit a roadblock a face would come to mind. Cassius, the perfect doll with unknown skeletons in his closet. Jennifer, a militant shrew who seemed to think everyone’s business was hers. And that sleazy, cheating, too pretty for words and charming more than nature should allow son-of-a-bitch Andrew. He was the worst of all. I despised him and how torn I was over him.

I even sifted through Henry’s old symbol ciphers to no avail. I wanted to scream, but found myself unable, paralyzed by loss.

It was no use. What was the point? Henry was dead. I’d never get him back, no matter what took him away from me to begin with. I wanted to see him, so fucking bad, but couldn’t find him. Everywhere I looked for him, he was gone. I couldn’t see his spirit in pages, nor could I smell it in a candle’s smoke or taste it in the sweetness of tea. My brother’s ghost did not haunt the music hall nor the hall outside my door. Not so much as a whisper or hum of his would ever see its way to me again.

I fell asleep to the broken melody of my thoughts, waking up in early evening to find dried tear streaks on my cheeks. I didn’t go to dinner, opting instead to sulk some more.

I just about jumped out of my skin when a knock came at my door. An anxious voice uncomfortably close to the front of my brain told me it was certainly my day of reckoning. Regardless, I went to it, locking the chain in place and imagining Cassius and Jennifer’s sneers outside the whole time.

But as I cautiously turned the doorknob and pulled, I found nobody there. I craned around to see if someone was hiding to catch me unsuspecting, but didn’t find a thing. Instead, a plain, manilla folder sat neatly on the ground.

I had half a mind to ignore it. No good could come from receiving very creepy behaviour and potential death threats one day and a mysterious pile of papers the next. Yet I found myself drawn to it, unlocking the chain and bringing the stack to my desk.

Once more in privacy, I flipped it open.

A profound sense of shock swept over me. It felt like looking in someone’s diary, or overhearing your parent’s quiet arguments late past your curfew.

It was Henry’s case file.

I looked at the cover. A small rabbit was drawn in the corner. Andrew had followed through, after all.

His name- or rather, deadname- was written all over it, and the word CLOSED was stamped over it in red. A photo peeked out from behind it. I saw his blankets and a streak of red, not needing to ask the cause of that.

Behind that, a photocopy of a letter in what I’d assume to be his handwriting, beginning with the words ‘To all it may concern, farewell.’

I read the whole thing. It was bullshit. I analysed it with a magnifying glass he’d gifted me, keeping Isabella’s advice in mind and finding his i’s topped by single dots rather than swirls, and the ends of his y’s did not swoop back up like I knew them to. These were not his words.

I briefly considered the idea of looking at the photo, but decided I’d rather not scar my mind with it. Instead, I flipped through the pages towards the front, finding a description of the cause of death.

His throat had been cut with a knife- the one from the secret room- which they found in his hand. The stains made it look as though he’d done it himself- maybe he had. Why no one bothered to consider the idea that nooses were much easier to tie, was no mystery to me. Suspicious circumstances as they may have been, I knew the police didn’t care.

But I did. I looked back on my thoughts from before my nap, now realising how foolish they were. My brother was still here, contained within the mystery he’d left for me to solve. Duty made have been a spooked notion, but the personal desire to see his last wish through was not.

Henry had alluded to something wrong with Cassius and both of their relationships with Serena, but I wasn’t aware of the details. Given how little Henry elaborated when the subject came up, I couldn’t assume that Cassius was a monster, capable of murder, or both.

Jennifer could easily be behind this- she had the ‘whatever-it-takes’ attitude I saw in many perps in practice cases from school. Cause a scandal near Andrew and force him to stick closer to her. It seemed an odd way to go about things, but then, that could very well have been the point. And death threats were always something to be taken more seriously than simple creepiness and a bad reputation held only in the vague words of a dead man.

Regardless of reason and how the sane parts of my brained begged me to stick to safety, I had my suspects. I was through doubting. Investigation was back in order.

❁

“Hello, Maxwell. How is the ‘case’ coming along?” I was warmly greeted by Serena.

“It’s going well- I’m slowly but surely gathering evidence and forming a clear picture. How are you holding up since the funeral?” I returned. The snow had stopped long enough for us to meet under a secluded tree.

“Alright. I miss Henry like hell, but, uh. Seeing you start to make things right…” She trailed off, hugging her knees to her chest. I understood.

“I assure you, it’s equally satisfying for me,” I paused for effect. “In all ways but one, I’m afraid.”

She hesitated. “And how would that be?”

“Tell me, did he ever leave you puzzles? Little mysteries to solve, especially when going away for long periods of time?”

She tch’ed. “Yes, he did. I remember the last time you both left, after Christmas three years ago, he left a bunch of notes hidden throughout the house. It took a few days, but at the end, I found a hidden shack out in the woods.” Her tone shifted, dipping into gloom. “It was the creepiest place I’d ever been in, even worse than that room behind the bookshelf. The walls were covered in pictures and articles- I think he was solving cold crimes. And there was all the occult stuff. Black candles, spell books, there was even that old skeleton display I chose to believe wasn’t real.”

I pondered over this for a minute. So he’d moved to somewhere even more secretive, no wonder Serena felt ignored by him. “Serena?” I broke the silence.

“Yes?”

“Would it be too much to ask for you to help me pack up his dorm? Apparently the police barely touched it, and the administrators are getting antsy about it being done before the holidays.” My stomach twisted at the thought of going in- that much had been the same since the start- but it needed to be done, regardless.

She took a shaky breath, considering. Hers was closer to his, so she’d had a more stark reason to avoid it. But at last, she agreed, informing me that she would be available Thursday afternoon.

The day couldn’t come quick enough.

❁

I chewed on my cheek the whole way there, sucking in a sharp breath when Serena opened the door. Regardless, we both stepped inside, Phantom prancing along at my heels.

A thin layer of dust covered just about everything. The rug, bedding, and several items on the nightstand were gone, taken for evidence, likely to never return.

She’d brought several folded boxes, and we quietly began our work sorting through everything. Clothes and supplies were quickly done with, and it was then that I decided to inform her of the book.

She turned it every which way, brow furrowed as I told her all the ways I’d failed to decipher it.

“His favourite place to hide things is books, no? I’ll start at the top of his shelf, you start at the bottom,” she bounced up from where she’d been sitting, swiping the top left novel.

We packed all that which held nothing, sparing anything that held annotations. Two shelves each later, we were beginning to think that it was a lost cause, when the most curious editations of all came to pass, in his copy of Pride and Prejudice.

Several pages held circled words, always two on the same page. There were the same amount of these instances as there were like-letters in the code. G became L, Z became E, so on and so forth until we had our answer, back in the copy of Emma.

‘Gz xcvy zno gv xgz’ had become ‘Le chat est la cle.’ I felt as though my blood had been lit on fire.

“The cat is the key,” I softly translated. Of course it was in French- Henry was one of very few here who knew what I was. “Phantom?” I asked her, putting a hand on the cat’s back.

But she shook her head slowly, avoiding my eyes. “I don’t know.”

That wasn’t good enough for me. “Have you ever noticed anything off about her? She’s far older than a cat should be, and clearly knows as much about necromancy than any of us three-” I pressed.

“I’m telling you, I don’t know. You two never should’ve learned that stupid magic in the first place- just look where it got him!” she snapped. I recoiled. “I’m sorry,” she backtracked. “Let’s just finish this up, I’ve got studying to do.”

I watched as she got up and took more books to boxes, including the one we’d been looking at.

“I’d like to hold on to that, Serena.”

She hesitated before curtly handing it back to me. I thanked her, unsure of what else to say. We worked the rest of the time in silence. Then she left without another word.

I stayed for a while after, soaking up the room.

It was quiet, and I caught sight of snow beginning to flurry down outside the window. The longer I stayed on the bare mattress, the more I melted into the stillness.

Only then I was allowed to feel it.

A low humming- not audible to the ears, but reverberating in my heart. I couldn’t explain it if I tried, but it felt…

Green.

I blinked. Rattling leaves and swaying branches greeted my closed eyes.

Henry.

He was here. His magic, the room was bathed in it. How had I not felt it before? Magic reflected its user, and he had been a quiet person. But I thought magic died with its user, as well.

It didn’t. Necromancy- death magic- was, paradoxically, the one living thing a necromancer left behind. It would take an angel to kill it.

Or a spell to suppress it.

I whispered his name.

And the silence strained against its chains in response.

He wanted to be free.

#Chapter Four #✒️ you write and i’ll read 📖 #📖 the detective an the crook 🖋 #writing #my writing #tw murder #tw suicide #tw crime #tw kidnapping #tw arranged marriage #tw transphobia #tw homophobia #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw nudity #tw swearing #tw suggestive #tw weapons

[introductions-are-a-spook]

When Smoke Meets the Trees

❁〚 Chapter Two 〛❁

They called it suicide. ‘Just another kid that couldn’t take the pressure of private school.’ The scene looked enough like it- it was fully possible to cut your own larynx, after all- so to the police it was open and shut in a matter of days.

I spent those days in my room, phasing between crying and feeling numb, all the while curled up under the covers. I didn’t bother going to classes. The most I accomplished was calling my sister, who told me that no one would blame me if I flew back to Lyon the first chance I got.

But I stayed. It was as if I was cemented in place. Sitting at my desk and staring out the window, I imagined the trees and bushes out there growing around me, rooting me to my chair. They’d cut a large chunk of the branches. It didn’t look right anymore. Nothing did.

A knock at the door caught my attention. I watched the door, barely moving to face it. The knock came again, and a familiar girl’s voice.

“Maxwell? May I come in?”

I felt a small spark, just enough to stand and open it. Serena, of course.

“Alright, if you don’t mind the mess.”

“I don’t. I haven’t been that well either.”

I felt like crying again under her delicate gaze. “Makes sense.”

“He was quite fond of you. Called you our ‘bonus brother.’ I guess I’m willing to share, even if you are a crazy warlock,” she tried a meek smile. It worked.

By the time she left, it was evening. She’d left an invitation to the funeral and memorial service. They were paired, taking place in two days. I decided to go.

In the meantime, I did my best to stop constantly looking at the ground. It wasn’t much, but making tea in the mornings and paying attention in classes was a good catapult forward.

That was, until I started falling into old habits.

Habits like going to the tree we always ate lunch at on impulse didn’t bother me, though. It was knowing that he had resurrected that tree and finding it dead. I inspected it as best I could, but the only life I could find was Phantom chasing a squirrel up it. The squirrel gazed at me, fur shaped around its eyes like the half-moon glasses Henry wore.

Studying at the music hall was no trouble to me, until I found the chrysanthemum wilted again.

I pinched the flower stem, causing it to light up in teal flames before coming back to life. My own magic was still working.

His must have died with him.

I thought it best to keep quiet about this until the funeral the next day. It only made me cry more, anyway.

Henry’s family was surprisingly kind. It was a small event- he wasn’t very social and came from a modest family. I didn’t want to speak much, but I found it odd that Serena didn’t either. It was only when the venue had mostly cleared that I asked her about it, even if it was insensitive.

Her small glare at the ground gave me the impression I should’ve just shut up, until she spoke despite herself.

“My brother was murdered. I know it.”

A chill ran up my spine. “...How do you know?”

“He would’ve shown it, that this was what he wanted, but he didn’t. It’s just- it’s too bizarre- too artless a method. There has to be something more to it.”

I thought back to the day before, how oddly sombre he had gotten. How every piece of his magic had crumpled like autumn leaves. Before everything, all the promises we’d made to each other- to be detectives, to see the world, to finally get out of the girl’s dorms and be seen as the men we were.

“Promise me,” she started, putting a hand on my arm, “that you’ll find out what happened to him. Please, I can’t go on knowing that person is still out there.”

“I know. And I will.”

“Maxwell?”

“Yes?”

“My boyfriend- Cassius-” her voice broke off abruptly, but I prodded her on. “He’s been acting… sort of unnerving. Sudden behavior changes, disappearing at any and all hours… Just, promise me you’ll do whatever it takes to, to-” tears started to roll down her face. I didn’t need her to say anything else; I had my first lead.

“Whatever it takes,” I promised. And I meant it. I wanted to find whoever did this and make them pay. And whatever I wanted, I got.

❁

Of course, that was easier said than done.

Neither Henry or I were a fan of the police- or any state institution for that matter- but since they were the ones with the physical evidence, it was the best place to start.

The woman at the front desk barely looked at me before huffing a, “And what do you want?”

“I was hoping you could get me information on the Henry Mackay case from two weeks ago. He was a good friend of mine-”

“Henry who?” She was still looking at her crossword, not bothering to move a thing.

“Mackay. From the school up on the hill there-”

“Oh, you mean Heather? What’s there to say, poor girl couldn’t-”

My brow furrowed and a spark of anger lit in my stomach. “Excuse me, his name is- was, Henry. Your division did an investigation, surely there’s something you can give me.”

“I’m sorry sweetie, but since you don’t work here, I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can. I qualify as family, just look it up.” Not technically true, but by now I was chewing on my cheek to avoid simply cursing my frustrations out at her. I should’ve listened to my gut and brought Serena along, but she told me she was sick.

“You’ll have to prove it first,” she mocked with a sick smile.

I leered in return. Well, this wasn’t working- might as well get some licks in while I could. “Some department you’re running if you won’t even bother to open a fucking file. I could run circles around you and your officer dogs,” I sneered through the last few words, before turning on my heel to leave.

A door opened behind me, the click of heels and fervent please’s spilling out. “You wouldn’t regret letting me go, ma’am, I’m a changed man! Cross my heart, hope to die.”

I stopped, smirk fading into. What was he doing here?

“Save your breath, Winston. No one changes that fast. Pocketing jewellery is one thing, but I can’t have you stealing police evidence.”

“No, no, seriously- weren’t you saying you suspected your husband of an affair last time I was here? I could snag all kinds of evidence for you!” I could hear his smug grin dripping off his every word.

The officer huffed. “Shut up already. Your old jail cell misses you.”

“Jeepers, not there. At least tell me you fixed the heating.” I stepped outside and whispered a spirit displacement charm under my breath, changing into a sort of spectator- a living ghost, in a way. Going back in, I latched onto the sound of his complaints that, “This is literally Nineteen-Eighty-Four!” and followed that.

They locked him behind bars and told him to change into a plain uniform, which I looked away for. Then they left him alone.

No one occupied the other three cells, so I removed the charm and psst-ed him.

“Max!” he yelped and jumped.

“Shhh!” I ordered him. He obliged. Then in a low voice, “What did you steal?”

“How did you get in here?” He looked at the door.

“Answer me first.”

“You heard the lady. Evidence. Now do ya mnd explaining what the hell-”

“What kind of evidence?”

He sighed. “Pragmatic as always, I see, but that’s for me to know.”

I scoffed and leaned against the bars. “I suppose you’d love to know that I could get you out of there, the same way I got in.”

He stood up and came over to me. “Prove it.”

“Can’t fool me that easily, bunny. Just tell me what I want to know and you’ll be a free man.”

He giggled at the nickname, moved directly behind me and entwined his fingers with mine. “I don’t need your help.”

“Do you not? No need for me to stay, then,” I pulled my hands away, but he reached through and snatched my wrist before I could walk. I turned back to him. “Alright. Start talking.”

His touch wandered up to my arms and shoulders. “It was about your friend. The thing burned me and I yelled, which is what gave me away.” He slipped something into my pocket. I put my hand in, but he stopped me. “Wouldn’t recommend that, darling- wouldn’t want to mess up your pretty hands.”

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. That’s all I wanted. Is the bunny sick of his cage now?” I snarked.

“Depends. Is the kitten ready to set me free, or do I get to be tormented longer?”

“‘Get to?’ You’re truly depraved if you’re enjoying yourself right now.”

“Imma sucker for pain, especially if you’re the one giving,” he giggled. “But for real, get me out of here.”

Snagging him by the collar, I whispered the charm into his ear and chuckled at his shocked face when it took effect.

“Come on, prettyboy, let’s go get your clothes back,” I took him by the hand and started pulling.

“You think I’m pretty?” He ran the other hand over his ponytail, keen smile pulling at his cheeks.

“Let’s go, Andrew.”

❁

Campus wasn’t very busy by the time we arrived in the evening, just a few students milling about, talking, studying. Andrew- once back in his normal attire- had dragged me into every jewellery store and coffee shop he thought was pretty the whole way back, which added at least an hour to the walk. I thought it would annoy me the first time, but truthfully, it ended up being the good time I needed. A brief respite from gloom.

Still, I took one look at Henry’s old dorm window and decided that I was hungry instead. Andrew seemed to catch on, offering to go to the small cafeteria, but I gagged and declined.

“Then how about we go to my dorm? I’ve got plenty of snacks stashed up there.”

“How many rules are you breaking?” I gawked at him.

“Too many. Now quit asking so many goddamn questions and answer mine!” he teased.

I shook my head at him. “There’s no fixing you, is there. Lead the way.”

This marked the first time I’d gotten a full view of his room. It was surprisingly organised, aside from some clothes on a chair and other various clusters of clutter.

He briefly apologised for it, sweeping the simple things back into their places. It was an unorthodox setup, to say the least, with all sorts of charms, gems, and talismans. Nothing magical- I’d been practising long enough to know the difference- but still unique.

“You seem like a very superstitious fellow,” I commented, admiring his collection.

“Kinda. My parents are super Christian, and they never let me have this kinda stuff,” he tapped a pride flag hanging from the side of the bookshelf. “They even tried to split me and my bestie, Isabella, up- thought she was a bad influence- so she and I don’t tell many people that we’re buds, just in case. But, I figured now that I’m outta the nest, I don’t hafta follow their rules anymore.”

He had a pinboard on the wall, covered in papers and pictures. I must’ve stared a bit too long, because he started talking about it, mostly to point out his siblings, cousins, and friends, and the places they’d gone. I caught a snapshot of him warrior posing stupidly in front of the ‘Welcome to Las Vegas’ sign alongside some of his equally goofy orchestra-mates, and smiled. “Where else have you been?”

“My dad and I went to Chicago a few years ago. Not sure if I have any printed pictures of that though.” He scratched his neck. “‘Sides, I don’t like to talk about my old man much. Got some of Rome, though,” he pointed out another. “That’s my uncle, there with me. He’s the reason I wanna be a historian. Don’t know if I can keep up violin as a legit career, y’know? Too competitive. ‘Sides, I like us better now that we’re not always on each other.” I smiled, somewhat annoyed to agree. “Anyway, you needed food, right?”

I snapped out of it. “Oh, yes.” He promptly opened a drawer on his wardrobe, revealing an assembly of baked goods, candies, and other sweets.

“Made em’ myself. Not the most nutritionally valuable, but good for long nights spent writing and watching sunsets. They really shouldn’t make the locks around here so easy to pick. Speaking of,” he spread the curtains and looked out the window, excitedly showing off the pinks and oranges painting the sky. “Wanna sneak up on the roof?” He grinned.

My eyes widened. “Can we… do that?”

“Sure, if you want!”

“I mean, I do want to, but what if-”

“Nuh-uh. We both want to, end of story. Now snag the snacks you want and meet me up there.” And with that, he slid the window open and crawled out.

“Wait-!” But he was already gone. My stomach twisted in knots, and I faltered with dizziness. No. No, no, no, not again, I had just lost my best friend, I couldn’t lose someone else now that I had just realised how much I liked him. My head spun with all the things that could go wrong- him falling, him straining himself, him getting caught by the same unknown person that had killed-

“What’s wrong?” Came his upside-down head from the window.

I put my hands over my eyes as they trembled. “Please come back,” I whimpered.

I heard a shuffle and then his shoes loudly thumping against the floor. A moment later, a pair of strong arms gently wrapped around my shoulders. I moved my hands to his back and put my cheek against his chest, letting his heartbeat calm me, listening to him whisper apologies.

Eventually he stepped back, pulling up a chair so I could sit and breathe. “I’m sorry. I shoulda thought that one through, I didn’t even think about-”

“Stop. It’s fine. I’m fine,” I tried to convince myself.

“You don’t seem fine,” he responded, offering his hand.

I drew in a shaky breath and grabbed it. It was cool and covered in rough callouses that I traced, slowly grounding myself. “Don’t ever do that to me again. And stay out of danger from now on.”

He gave me a blank look. “I don’t know if I can really do that, but I can try.”

“That’s not good enough. I need you, with everything going on,” I glared at him.

He huffed. “I don’t think you realise what you’re asking me. Besides, what could happen?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe you getting murdered just like Henry?” I shouted back at him, shutting my mouth and giving a cracked sob once I realised what I’d said.

“Murdered?” He repeated quietly, tightening his grip on me.

No going back now, I supposed. And so I told him everything, from the day before it happened to my conversation with Serena after.

At the end, he nodded somberly, thinking for a time. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t need to be. Just say you’ll help me.”

He looked me right in the eye. “Anything for you, Maxwell.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Alright. I’ve uh, never done a proper investigation before, but I know how, and I will do everything I can.”

Andrew nodded. “I believe in you.”

And I believed him.

#Chapter Two #✒️ you write and i’ll read 📖 #📖 the detective an the crook 🖋 #writing #my writing #tw murder #tw suicide #tw crime #tw kidnapping #tw arranged marriage #tw transphobia #tw homophobia #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw nudity #tw swearing #tw suggestive #tw weapons

[introductions-are-a-spook]

When Smoke Meets the Trees

❁〚 Chapter One 〛❁

Whoever will be free must make himself free.

Such was the idea that I guided myself by- my life was entirely up to me.

Unfortunately, some people made that difficult.

I could hear them bantering from a mile away. A childish yelp as one of them slipped on the icy walkway and a lighter laugh from the other. A string of playful profanities and insults were strung between them, and I buried my nose in my novel lest I be roped in with them as well.

“Hey, Cass, look, it’s the cats!” the clumsy one shouted, elbowing his friend and pointing at me. Cursing my flushing cheeks, I hid behind the page and pulled Phantom- the cat from the secret room- a little closer to me, hoping to be ignored.

Too late, though, they had already gotten too close. “Oi, kitty, I’m talkin’ to you!” He gently tugged the book away from my face with his free hand, plucking it from my hands to read the cover.

“Hey! Don’t just-”

“Pride and Prejudice, eh?” Cassius commented.

“Yeah, I tried reading it, but it didn’t really hold me. I liked Emma a lot more, though,” Andrew added on.

“Andrew, don’t you have better things to do than to annoy me?” I grumbled, snatching it back.

“Uh- yes, actually! I saw you were out of class the other day so I made a copy of my notes. Here!”

I took them and my eyes widened. They were surprisingly thorough. Then I squinted. “What are you trying to do here?”

“Nothing. Just thought I’d help ya out.”

“You’re gonna need it, the way you keep your nose stuck in a book,” Cassius snarked, perching himself beside me on the bench. Phantom moved to my lap with an indignant mewl.

“Aw, chill out, Cass. I’m on your side, Maxie,” Andrew grinned, sitting to my right, the two of them flanking me.

I squirmed a bit but kept my cool as Cassius picked up one of my folders and started thumbing through it.

“No, you aren’t. You of all people, never,” I pulled the locket around his neck, hard, for emphasis. He’d stolen it from me at a music festival, a few years ago. Pulled me into a corner to ‘talk,’ kissed me, and took the locket while I was too distracted telling myself I didn’t enjoy it.

Which I obviously didn’t. He was as much of a conman now as he was then. That’s why I freely encouraged it, stopping only when his brother came looking for him. Shit.

He pulled my hand away and rubbed his neck, still grinning his daffy grin. “Hey, just cuz we competed doesn’t mean we have to hate each other off the stage, too.”

I huffed, briefly glancing at Cassius as he read through some one-sided paper I didn’t bother to recognize. Then, back at Andrew, “It means precisely that.”

Business aside, any music competitions we went to in the past more-often-than-not were attended by the other. “Nah. But rivals spur people on more than friends do. You needed me,” he winked.

“Emphasis on the past tense, asshole. Why do you think I’m studying forensic science? I wanted to break away from you.” Away from always competing with you.

“Isn’t music supposed to bring people together?” I startled as Cassius half-heartedly muttered this, a hand to his chin in thought as he read.

I set Phantom on the ground and stood up, claustrophobia finally catching up to me. “Could you both stop that? Don't you have a girlfriend to get to?” I swiped the folder away from him. Three years past Henry and I’s discovery Serena had come to the same university as us, attaching herself to Cassius soon after.

They looked at each other, then at me. “Fair point, I’ve had enough.” Cassius bounced back, his sudden change in demeanour making my skin crawl ever so slightly. He clicked his tongue at Andrew, and they both stood up as well.

“Yeah, I got a lecture to get to anyway. Nice seeing ya!” Cassius had already begun walking away when Andrew finished speaking. I’d expected them to go together, but before I could follow their path in the opposite direction, Andrew leaned in and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

“Hey! What the hell-”

My cheeks went red as I felt his nose ruffle my hair ever so slightly. “Pay attention to the back of the papers,” he quietly breathed into my ear. “Cass isn’t acting right these days.” I felt him rustle with something on my neck, but couldn’t immediately tell what it was. His face was set and serious when he pulled away, but it cleared as he skipped off to join the pale boy ahead of us both.

With him out of sight, I took a moment to sort myself out by sitting down sounding a frustrated groan into my hands. That felt… irritatingly good, just like the kiss had, but besides that- why the sudden change in expression? And what the hell was that supposed to mean?

Then I felt the cool chain around my neck. I pulled it into my line of sight.

It was the locket.

I glanced up to hopefully get another glimpse at him, but only saw the sheets of notes he’d left. I looked closer at them and found that they were for a high-level history class I wasn’t taking. On the last page in red pen was a quickly scrawled room number. I looked up again. Andrew was gone, but from behind a tree I could see the slightest strand of Cassius’ platinum-blonde hair.

I averted my eyes back to my book, but scarcely read another word.

❁

There was nothing quite like studying in a low-energy music hall. The Christmas dress rehearsal in the main auditorium and vaguely dimmed lights provided myself and my friend with just the right atmosphere to study.

Ever my companion, Henry was still the same gaunt boy of few words and a love for sweater vests, which suited me just fine. We shared common ground in politics and aspirations in the investigative field, as well as taste in fiction and fashion. I had a little sister back in France, but always found my Scottish twin to be just as endearing- if not more so.

“I brought one for both of us,” I informed him, setting down two milk cartons I’d snuck from by bag.

“Thank you,” he muttered quietly, a ghostly smile on his face. “Here’s your book back.”

It was my copy of Emma. I absentmindedly flipped through it and thanked him with a hint of sarcasm, thinking of Andrew from earlier.

“What’s that tone for?” he gently asked, twirling his fingers over the wilting chrysanthemum on the table, revitalising the decoration with a puff of emerald mist. There was no aversion there, instead only the mild curiosity he approached everything with.

“Nothing. What’s this? Have you written another new spell?” I asked, flipping to a page I’d passed. I put a finger to the gibberish written there. Gz xcvy zno gv xgz.

“Not a spell. A gift- another mystery for you. I’ve left you all the hints you’ll need,” he adjusted his half-moon glasses almost daringly. “Now tell me, why the snark?”

“Oh, just…” I sighed. “You know that upperclassman, the Winston boy? He was being annoying earlier, and the book got brought up is all,” I huffed.

“Andrew? The ex-enemy you’re in love with?”

I rolled my eyes and feigned a gagging sound. Henry laughed.

“Cassius was there, too. He was thumbing through our notes,” I went on.

A cloud seemed to hang just over Henry’s eyes at the mention of the name.

“What did he take?”

I pulled the folder out of my bag. “Nothing- he only saw the first few pages. He only had a couple of minutes, he wouldn’t have gotten much,” I sugarcoated.

“That’s still too much. Was my sister-?”

“I didn’t see Serena, no. And I didn’t know how to stop him without looking suspicious.”

“He could still tell her what he found later.” Henry took a deep breath and folded his hands to his chin, deep in thought. “She hasn’t been speaking to me as of late. I’ve tried, but she closes up.”

“But then, I haven’t seen you make much of a step in her direction, either,” I half-accused.

“Perhaps you’re right. But then, it’s been this way since Christmas, way back when. How am I to speak to someone who won’t speak back?” A fair point. I was concerned more for how unusually pale he’d become. “Something is wrong. I don’t feel well.”

“You don’t look well. Are you going to be sick?”

He shook his head without a word. His eyes were set on a picture of Cassius in the open folder. “Do you still have Phantom?”

I stared at him for a moment. “She’s back in my dorm, like usual.”

“And she’s healthy?”

“...Of course she is. But why-?”

“-Then promise me you’ll…” his hands were trembling ever so slightly.

“Henry, what is this about?” A bead of sweat formed on my forehead.

But then, whether by magic or some unspecified relief, his face regained colour. He shuffled around in his bag and pulled out a piece of paper. “I have a couple obligations back in my dorm. Bye for now, Maxwell.”

I tried to tell him to stop and wait, but he was already on his way out.

I didn’t know the details about Cassius and Serena’s relationship, but I knew they both had something to do with this. And there was one person who didn’t know when to shut up that I was starting to consider giving a second chance.

❁

I awoke the next morning to a cool winter day, much like the last. The school clock’s first morning chime hadn’t gone off and I was excessively late for my third class. I looked at the rumbling clouds, at the rain drizzling against the window, fully expecting to breathe the same contented sigh I always did on these sorts of occasions.

That sigh never came. I looked around my room, finding some flowers Henry had revitalised recently had wilted again. Magic relied heavily on will. The winds of one’s mood could easily influence its effectiveness. Still.

Something was wrong.

I decided to postpone my investigation into Henry’s dismal demeanour. If I didn’t put some time into myself first, I’d be thrown off all day. So I got up and ready slowly, calming myself through routine. All I could hear out the window was snow and wind getting stronger. In the hallway and other rooms, the occasional creek of footsteps and little more. It was too quiet.

Making my way to my fourth class, I noticed only empty halls accompanying me, not even Henry was around. I knew his dorm was two floors up, but still.

There was a policeman at the door in the main hall, and he gave me a sneer before nodding at someone behind me.

That someone grabbed my arm, hard, and turned me to face him. Through yellowing teeth and sour breath he spat, “What’re you doing in the halls? Didn’t yer little friends tell ya- school’s cancelled for the day. Get back upstairs and stay there!”

I jerked away and glared at him. “Why?”

“Because I said so, now go!”

My mind prickled with a thousand questions, but my heart was pounding and my arm still throbbed, so I simply gritted my teeth and did as he said.

Once I was out of sight, I ran and knocked on Henry’s door. He’d know what was going on.

He didn’t answer, so I tried again. And again and again until I sauntered back to my own room and collapsed on my bed. What could he be doing?

After venting my frustrations into my pillow, I had another idea. It was dumb, but when in need of a dumbass, maybe that was the best way to go. I just hoped the room number he’d left on the papers was his.

Sneaking to the back entrance and scuttling over to the opposing building of dormitories, I located Andrew’s and went to it as carefully as possible.

The note told of the right room after all, and he answered after a moment. “What are you doing here?” His voice was uneven this time.

“Why the hell is everyone shut up in their rooms today? And what’s wrong with your voice, have you caught yet another cold?”

After a pause, Andrew made a sound like a cross between a scoff and a sigh. “You ask a lot of questions, y’know that?”

“And you don’t answer many. Could you humour me one more time?”

“I’m not in the mood, Maxwell. You should know damn well by now, anyway,” he was shifting from foot to foot, glancing down the hallway every other second.

My throat tightened at the sound of my full name. “Actually, I only woke up half an hour ago. Some greasy guard shoved me back up to my room just as soon as I’d come down.”

“Well what d'ya expect, with someone dying in your building and all? So help me, Max, if you don’t stay safe, I’ll never forgive you.” His voice was so intense, I shuddered.

“Dying?” I choked out.

“They found the body this morning. Your building, room six-thirteen, I think? Grizzly sight from what I’ve hea-”

But I didn’t hear the rest, turning and bolting down the nearest stairs.

Six-thirteen was Henry’s room.

#Chapter One #✒️ you write and i’ll read 📖 #📖 the detective an the crook 🖋 #writing #my writing #tw murder #tw suicide #tw crime #tw kidnapping #tw arranged marriage #tw transphobia #tw homophobia #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw nudity #tw swearing #tw suggestive #tw weapons

[introductions-are-a-spook]

When Smoke Meets the Trees

❁〚 Chapter Seven 〛❁

I could do nothing but float along as my body stumbled and trudged away into the woods. Dense forest surrounded the school’s northside and the town to the south; there was no telling where Serena was having me go.

It had diverged from the path over an hour ago, but a taut force kept us tethered, so I couldn’t lose it’s way, not even to search for the others. Every now and then I would jump at the sound of an scurrying animal or a falling branch, but it was by the time a small clearing came into view that I heard human sounds. Crying. Laughing. Pain and its inflictor. Serena.

Smoke rose from the break in the trees, and through them a bonfire raged. I was pulled toward it as my physical feet nearly walked into it, before halting suddenly.

I stayed within the trees, as far back as I could go, and was met face-to-face with the squirrel from the beginning of my investigation. Half-moon rims around the eyes and a coat like a sweater vest. Now I knew I hadn’t been imagining it. The resemblance was uncanny.

“Henry,” I tried to speak, but the words came out as though underwater. But the animal looked at me. Surely I was visible, at least to him?

Another unique form caught in my periphery. Red hair that matched the flames of the fire, a broken gun in the grass beside her and a bullet from it in her shoulder. Jennifer. I went to her, trying to get her attention, but she merely stared ahead blankly. Her face was glazed and far away, just like mine.

And to Jennifer’s left still, most nauseating, was Andrew, those awful, beautiful cerulean blue eyes, shirt torn to reveal the marks I’d left last night, silver dagger driven through his right achilles tendon. My stomach twisted, unable to see their ghosts. I was so unfamiliar with this branch of necromancy that I didn’t know if this was normal or if they were really gone.

The crying continued from the other side of the fire, four people forming a diamond. I would recognize Cassius’ squeaks and sobs anywhere.

“Cassius, sweetheart, you should be grateful. I’ve made you useful,” she crooned in his ear as she finished chaining him to a tree, his wrists nailed to it together. “Maybe if you’re good I’ll let you live.” With that, she brushed her hand across his cheek and moved on to Jennifer.

She went on the same schtick with her, too. “Frankly, I’m just ashamed of you, Jenny. Stealing someone’s man behind your own’s back?” As soon as Jennifer ‘woke up,’ she quickly started cursing Serena out and fighting wildly.

“Cassius doesn’t love you, and I sure as hell don’t love him,” she growled, jerking her chin at Andrew, before being slapped into silence.

I was relieved at least to not see Isabella anywhere- nor Phantom, for that matter. The thought made me think back to the squirrel, finding it still sitting on its branch and watching the proceedings.

Then it was Andrew’s turn; I refused to watch or listen, I couldn’t take it. I wondered if Serena could sense my defiance.

Then she went to me, opposite my lover so that I could only see his head above the flames, just like Jennifer and Cassius. For the first time in over an hour, I felt a sharp tug and stumbled as I snapped back into my own body.

She was leering a few inches from my face. “And then there’s you, Maxwell,” she spat my name like it was dirt on her tongue. “You took my brother from me. He never had any time for me, treated me like a baby. You and your bullshit magic tricks may as well have comitted the murder!” She backhanded me, hard, nails cutting my cheek.

I tried to speak, but she pulled a silver dagger from her belt and drove it into my stomach. I’d never felt a worse pain, unable to breath, unable to move. I felt like I was about to throw up, but couldn’t.

“Nothing you do can bring him back- can make me forgive you.” With this, she bound me to the trunk and strode toward the fire with a flip of her hair. “Don’t worry. If you behave, maybe I’ll even mix you and Andrew’s ashes after I’ve killed you all,” she mocked.

Thick tears rolled down the cuts in my face, salt stinging.

Jennifer caught my eye, shouting, “You did what Isabella and I wanted you to, now get us out of here!”

“I don’t know how, this is all new to me!”

Cassius piped up beside me. “Henry must’ve left you something!”

“Shut up, all of you!” Serena snapped at us. She rifled through her bag to pull out a book, and I was close enough to see a summoning spell.

Quickly consulting it, she pulled out four glass vials and went to us each. At eaach stop, she used our injuries to fill them with blood, and as she took them back to the fire, I realised what she was doing.

“Wait! There’s something you need to know-”

But I was too late, and she spilt them out. The flames swelled a bright green, twisting and taking a thousand floral shapes in a split second. They condensed and spread, trees, books, and even a squirrel running their course within the stone border before twisting into the shape I knew all too well.

He smiled at Serena and at me, body of flames flickering. “You found my spell,” he congratulated, reaching a hand to her, but she jerked away.

“I’m going to end this! You two’s-” she pointed to him and I, “-stupid magic will never hurt anyone ever again. Then you’ll finally be gone!”

His gaze crumpled into sympathy. “You think killing the magic will rid you of your nightmares? Let you forget what you’ve done?”

“Shut up! I’m no worse than you!”

From the trees beyond Andrew I saw a bush rustle, and a familiar cat’s face poke out. Besides her, the points of a white bow were only just visible. Looked like Serena had missed a few key pieces in her game.

Something was changing in the fire, Henry was growing faint. He turned, waving to Isabella, upon whose shoulder sat none other than the squirrel.

Serena’s fists were shaking at her sides. “Even now you forget about me,” she growled to his turned back.

I looked to Jennifer, then to Cassius. They had both seen the girl beyond the trees, but they had not known the code and what it was beginning to mean to me. Phantom trotted over to me at the perfect time.

“Always leaving ridiculous messages in ciphers and invisible ink. As if I am supposed to be the forgotten Brutus beside the glorious Caesar. As if I am nothing but less than you!”

“Serena.” Henry firmly stopped her. Tears began to wet her cheeks. “Your dejection is nobody nor nothing’s- not even magic’s- fault but you and I’s. I’m sor-”

“No, it’s just you,” her voice thrummed harshly. “How the fuck is this my fault?”

“I tried to make amends with you, but you never did with me. Instead you stewed, convinced you were the victim even as you forced a man to put a cursed blade in my neck. You couldn’t even bring yourself to complete the deed by your lonesome.” By now she’d crumpled to the ground, openly wailing. It made me sick in a way that a blade through the guts never would.

I caught Andrew’s eye, in equal measure for comfort and to turn his attention to Isabella, who silenced him with a hand over the mouth. The squirrel had moved, now gently pinched in Phantom’s mouth by the scruff of its neck. She had gone away from me and up to Serena, bumping against her without pity and dropping the squirrel in her lap.

She stopped all movements, looking up.

Henry, translucent and see-through, was crouching before her. “I tried to warn you, but you never listened.”

“Warn me of what,” her voice cracked.

“About giving you a gammy spell,” he smiled. “There was never a way to destroy magic. It lives and breathes; not a science, but a spirit.”

The moment her heart dropped was clearly visible on her face. “So all this… I…”

“You killed me for nothing,” he finished for her. She sputtered and went pale. “But I still love you.”

She was sputtering wildly, a mix of ‘no’s’ and ‘this can’t be’s’.

Phantom was returning to me with the dagger- which Serena had stowed in her bag- in her teeth. I took it.

Isabella had managed Andrew free, and though he limped, they in turn had loosened Cassius and Jennifer, who quickly ran into each other’s arms. But I did not go to Andrew.

Serena was catatonic, aware but unresponsive to her plans crumbling around her. I knelt beside her, making the knife visible to her but not threatening. Henry held up a hand, staying me.

“Kill her, Maxwell!” came Jennifer’s voice, hoarse with hatred.

Serena jerked, whimpering.

“The dagger doesn’t kill magic, does it?” I asked Henry.

He shook his head. “The body dies and the magic is suppressed, but in return the spirit is preserved. ”

The squirrel curled up in Serena’s hands, sleeping peacefully. There was no evidence of betrayal in her face, even if it ought to have been.

The Henry of flames disappeared. Another person appeared in the now lavender fire, a young Serena, running and jumping, before a breeze blew by and she was transformed into the shape of a butterfly. An emerald Henry did the same, but as the same animal held in his little sister’s hands. A new, teal man, identical to me but much older, plunging the dagger into his own stomach and taking Phantom’s shape. Our predecessor, the secret room’s owner.

“You can choose to go on living, or you can pay the price for your sins and join me,” Henry returned, holding his hand out to her once more.

She regarded it, eyes hollow, lips pursed.

I felt a steadying hand on my back. Andrew had limped over, with Isabella close behind. Jennifer held Cassius’ hand as he put his free one on Serena’s shoulder.

She burst into tears one more time, saying I’m sorry, I’m sorry, over and over again. But eventually, she took a deep breath, took Henry’s hand, and nodded at me.

I raised the dagger, then sunk it into her heart.

❁

Dear Mum and Father,

Frankly, I’m afraid that if I see your faces when I give you this news, I’ll mess it up. So I thought it’d be better to just write it down.

I’m in a bit of a sticky situation right now, I won’t lie. As it turns out, if I wanna be a historian, I’d need a formal apprenticeship for it. I already wrote Uncle Elliot, he’s on board.

I know this means I won’t be able to marry Jennifer, but funny that, she actually had something to say about that! I let her write on the letter, again, because I don’t like explaining things.

Greetings to Mr. and Mrs. Winston, this is Jennifer McAllen. I’m writing this letter to inform you that

“What are you doing?” Jennifer swatted Andrew on the head and I snickered.

He pointed at me. “He said it would be a good idea!”

“Do you know how I talk in the slightest? Because it’s not like that!”

I continued to giggle to the best of my ability, working around the injury to my stomach. We were still being kept in the hospital as a precaution, but we were, for the most part, going to be okay, and managed to snag the same room.

Granted, he couldn’t walk yet, nor could I eat solid foods beyond soup and pudding. But we were alive and together, and that’s what mattered to me.

“Would now be a bad time?” another voice came from the door. Isabella and Cassius.

“No, you madman, get in here and control your girlfriend!” Andrew whined, covering his head against Jennifer’s attacks.

Isabella went over to my nightstand while they squabbled, new chrysanthemum in hand. She’d insisted on replacing it each week, but each week I brought it back to life. I was up to three now. “I’m collecting them,” I told her, smiling innocently, knowing she’d want to chastise me for sleeping in Andrew’s bed instead of mine.

She made a face at me. “I don’t know why I waste my efforts on the two of you. And don’t smoke in recovery!”

I grabbed the pack of cigarettes from the bedside table and put it under the blanket. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Just write the damn letter, Andy,” Cassius snarked at Andrew.

“And don’t drag me into it!” Jennifer added.

“You know what? Fuckin’ make me, whydontcha. If it ain’t to your liking, maybe you should write it!”

“Andrew, love, the sooner you write it, the sooner I can keep you here with me,” I chimed in sweetly, snuggling up to his chest.

His face quickly turned placid, and he put a new piece of paper under his pen, muttering a simple, “Okay, honey.”

The other three turned to me, faces a mix of surprise and delight. “How’d you do that?” Isabella asked me.

I looked with feigned naivete. “Do what?”

“You’ve really got him wrapped around your finger,” Cassius chuckled.

“Better his than mine,” Jennifer finished.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” he hummed.

I smiled. “There you have it. And besides, we act like Jennifer doesn’t have Cassius in the same spot.”

She flipped her hair. “Maybe. But at least he’s got some colour in his skin now,” she chirped, fondly pinching his cheek. He hummed in agreement.

“Don’t worry, Isabella, we’ll be rid of these three soon,” I joked.

“True. We can finish our degrees in peace, unlike these slackers,” she laughed with me.

Peace. It’d been a while since I’d felt it. Isabella wasn’t the same as Henry, nor could Andrew’s affection or the Cassius and Jennifer’s camaraderie fill the void Serena had made of him. But he didn’t need a replacement. His spirit remained in all the places he’d touched. It was calming.

I was looking forward to the calm.

❁

“He’s in that shop,” the executive whispered to me. I looked where he pointed.

It was the same road Andrew had dragged me along back in my third year of college, after his visit to a jail cell. We’d both graduated a while ago, and I was infinitely grateful to Isabella- now a doctor- for helping Cassius and Jennifer get married.

Now I could be Andrew’s bane in peace.

“What’s that he’s holding?” I asked my client.

“I’m not sure. Maybe you should go in,” he prodded me, not eager to be conned by Andrew a second time.

“Gladly,” I agreed, pocketing the bottle of sleeping draft. I’d kidnapped him before, and was starting to need more complex tactics.

“You’re gonna screw him over, right? Just like he ruined my deal?” The man asked me.

I smiled. “It would be my pleasure.”

With that, I went on ahead and knocked on the door.

Andrew looked up from the cloth bundle in his arms, grinning at the sight of me. “It’s unlocked,” he mouthed.

I went in, stamping the snow off of my boots at the door, Phantom by my side, like usual.

“Wonderful to see you again, bunny, but I’m afraid this is-”

“Yeah, yeah, sounds great, kitten, now look at this!” He raised the swaddle at me. I stepped closer and gasped when I saw the sleeping baby wrapped up within. “Ain't she just adorable?”

“Since when do you have a daughter?” I almost choked.

“Two months ago! Mum and Father weren’t super happy about Jenny and Cass running off together, so I told them I’d do this to make up for it. Jokes on them, I was going to either way,” he cheered.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope! Named her Edith Opal Winston, born December twelfth.”

“Starting a bakery out of nowhere and now this? You’ve got to be the most impulsive son of a bitch I’ve ever met,” I chastised to no avail, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Mind the young one, Max,” he gently covered the girl’s ears. “And it wasn’t impulsive, I prepared!” This time, I thought. “Anyway, I’ve been needin’ a lot of coffee lately, got some on right now. You want some?” I nodded, so he set the child down in a carrier and hobbled off to the kitchen, cane gripped in hand. Glad to know I wasn’t the only one who had never fully healed. “What happened to being a historian?”

“Nothing. I’m still my uncle’s apprentice- the bakery’s just my day job,” he returned from behind the door. “I got a ferret, too- named her Brie.”

Of course he did. The girl opened her eyes, cooing at me quietly. I offered her a hand, and was surprised by how strong her grip was on my index finger. “Do you know why I’m here?” I called back to the kitchen.

“To see me of course! Hey, I was thinking. I know we’re official now, but ‘boyfriend’ sounds so shallow. How about ‘lover?’”

I shook my head. “Sounds fine, but I’m here for business. I’ve got a man outside saying you made off with a year’s worth of his profits, and he’s hired me to fetch him your head.”

“Who, the gun salesman? He can have it,” he came back with two mugs and a bottle. “So long as the two of you have my heart.”

“Gross. Leave it in your chest.”

He laughed and turned his attention to helping Edith eat.

“So…?”

“So?”

I scoffed. “What the hell do you expect me to tell the man outside?”

“Whatever you want,” he uttered, distracted.

I looked in my pocket at the sleep tonic. “You know, I’d planned to knock you out and return his money. Or at least, give him that amount in counterfeits. Four hundred thousand pounds is awfully low for you.”

“The kid’s been keeping me busy,” he explained. “Tell you what. I’ll go back to the kitchen for snacks, you pretend to slip that in the drink, then you can load me in the back of your car for a few minutes. Tell him you’ll ‘take care of me’ and get the fake money to him tomorrow.”

“And who will watch Edith?”

“Oh, Izzy’s in the back studying- guess there’s more to being a doctor than the doctorate. She can for a couple minutes. And then we’ll come back here, kick her out, and have a nice lil’ date,” he winked.

I rolled my eyes, hating to admit that it’d probably work. “Fine. I prefer scones.”

“Gotcha,” he smiled and left.

God, I hated him so much.

#Chapter Seven #✒️ you write and i’ll read 📖 #📖 the detective an the crook 🖋 #writing #my writing #tw murder #tw suicide #tw crime #tw kidnapping #tw arranged marriage #tw transphobia #tw homophobia #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw nudity #tw swearing #tw suggestive #tw weapons

[introductions-are-a-spook]

When Smoke Meets the Trees

❁〚 Chapter Six 〛❁

The setting sun had cast my shadow long on the lawn, broadcasting my every move. Yet, arriving, I sat outside the door with baited breath.

My mind raced with all that had happened. Cassius had revealed himself, for what reason I could not fathom- but then proceed to tear down his own claims in private. No wonder he was acting so strange- it was like he was possessed. He was possessed! I hadn’t thought that death magic could be used to control lives, too. Let alone by Serena!

I considered the possibility that I had barely escaped with my life, and why he- or rather, Serena controlling him- had allowed me to keep it. I tensed as the door to the stairs on the opposite end of the hall opened. This was the worst place I could’ve been caught. I wasn’t thinking straight. I had just stared a murderer in the eyes. I was stricken. If Serena wanted me to admit it, there it was. I was terrified.

I heard the stairwell door open right in front of me, and there stood my man.

“Andrew! I was looking for you,” I huffed, standing up.

“So was I! Where the hell have you been?” He shook his head, getting up and coming toward me.

“I’ve been busy with the investigation, what else? And why would you be looking for me?” I may have learned about he and Jennifer’s situation, but I still felt some disdain for him not telling me.

“Because I need a favour from you,” he quieted down as he crouched down beside me. I raised an eyebrow. He pulled a dagger out of his coat pocket. “I don’t what this thing is, but it’s about time I gave it to you.”

I stared at it, wondering if he knew that was the same one the was in the secret room. I inhaled sharply and grabbed it. “This is what you actually stole. That day at the police station,” I chided, lightly shoving him. He only nodded in response.

Arriving at his door, he unlocked it and let us in, collapsing in his chair and nodding at the bed. I sat on it, albeit tensely.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I spat. “You’re engaged? What else were you planning to tell me only after I’d fallen for you?”

He looked up, conflicted. He stuttered for a moment before swallowing hard and finding his words. “I was scared, um- guess I just didn’t want to risk losing you.”

“You think I’m not?” I quipped back. “Ever since I was a child, you’ve driven me crazy. You’re loud, lusty, and flashy, and have picked on me since the moment we met. As soon as I started harp competitively, I found you were already ahead of me.” He turned away, but I leaned forward, grabbing his chin to face me. “I chased you all the way here just to make a point, that I refused to be your rival anymore. The least you could do is dignify those efforts with some honesty!”

Staring him in those awful, beautiful cerulean blue eyes, I waited for him to respond. A faint thought rose from the back of my mind. If I truly didn’t like him, I wouldn’t be here.

I wanted him.

And so I stayed.

“Alright. Ask me anything, I’ll answer,” he ceded, jaw set.

I let go of him, sitting back down. “When are you and Jennifer supposed to get married?”

“My parents wrote me a few moths ago saying that I should officially propose soon, since they’re planning for there to be a wedding once I graduate at the end of next semester.”

My stomach sank. I still had three years to go beyond that. “So you wanted to have me while you still could?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess so. I mean, I sorta like her. She’s pretty, and we get along when I follow the unspoken rules. But it’s not the same. I didn’t chose her, y’know?”

“And when did you plan to tell me about this?”

“I thought you knew.”

“No you didn’t. You have no ring and rarely speak to her publicly. Tell me the truth.”

He huffed, and I was starting to cling to his gaze to avoid being distracted by his hands, his hair, his… everything. “I thought I could steal you from the real world and have you without conflict. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

I looked to my feet, thinking of the first time he’d kissed me. I’d been lying to myself about it for four years, but I knew deep down I’d followed him here just as much as I’d followed Henry. “I believe you,” I told him, praying he believed me, too. “And I don’t want this- us- to end, but I need a little more.”

“Honesty is pretty tough for me, Max.”

“Then use it to show me how much you love me.” I didn’t need to elaborate, we both knew it was true. “Cassius cornered me today. All but literally told me he was responsible for Henry. I heard him crying in a classroom shortly after, saying how dangerous Serena is and how she’s been using him to try to destroy the magic.”

“Serena isn’t who I thought she was,” he began. “She did it. To your friend.” He stopped short, putting his head in his hands. I didn’t push him, letting him resume a minute later. “I don’t know why, but she’s ‘controlling’ Cassius to do it. Jenny knows, and knowing Izzy, she prolly does too.” He drew in a shaky breath. “It should’ve been me. I’m so sorry. It should’ve been me.”

I couldn’t see his face, but I noticed the tears falling onto his pants. I choked up, letting my own wet my cheeks.

“It shouldn’t be anyone,” I whispered, gently taking one of his hands in mine. I took a shaky breath. There was no more ire. I’d gotten part of what I wanted; I’d found the killer. I felt the churning grief of losing Henry finally temper and slow. I was scared of Serena, but more than that I was furious.

I squeezed Andrew’s hand. He looked up. There was a glint there, now- boiling fury that matched my own.

“I’m going to make her regret this. Will you help me?”

“Of course I will. Give her a dose of her own medicine, I say. Turn her into a puppet.”

“No. To control or kill someone is to deny them their individuality, and I won’t have that no matter who they are. Better to let her hypocrisy in using magic to beat magic be her downfall.”

“And do what? Throw her in jail?” Andrew was leaning toward the edge of his seat. “The police are bullshit anyway.”

“I’m well aware of that. But payback for her is more important to me than payback against the police. They’re not worth dignifying. I have a plan, but I can’t tell you, in case she takes control of you, but I’ll need the dagger.”

“Sounds good to me. So far, anyway. Tomorrow, we’ll figure it out together. I’m not too keen on a night out right now,” he chuckled.

“Then I’ll stay here,” I agreed. I glanced out of his window to find the sun had dipped past the horizon. “Turn off your lamp,” I whispered. He did as I asked. “I can’t go back to my dorm tonight. That’s the first place she would look for me, and I’d be alone and defenceless.”

“All the more reason for me to keep you,” he giggled, closing the curtains and flicking a contraband lighter to ignite some of the candles around his room.

I pursed my lips, weighing what I’d heard in the classroom earlier. “Andrew, about Jennifer and Cassius,” I started.

“Oh, yeah. They’re crazy for each other. The main reason she don’t want me,” he returned his boyish giggle. I sighed in relief. We had plausible deniability if he ever put a fight against his parents. “So, what was that about you falling for me?”

“Don’t be a jackass, you know it’s true. It’s all too common with rivals, anyways.” I got up and playfully shoved him on my way to his closet to fetch some pyjamas. I took my locket off, setting it on his bedside table. “Why’d you give this back, by the way?”

“Didn’t need it anymore. It was a memento of you when you went back to France, but now that you’re here, I can just have you,” he explained before giving a self-effacing scoff. “I lost it when I moved in though. Scared the hell out of me, but turns out it had just been hangin’ out behind my desk for the last three years.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, calling him a dumbass, a name to which he giggled.

“Still hafta worry about Serena, though,” he went on, tone turning serious.” I don’t know much about magic, so I’m probably more susceptible to her control,” he leaned against the wooden frame, gently biting his nail in thought.

“I’m only now learning the uses of necromancy on living people,” I bit my lip, anxiety returning. “So I wouldn’t know how to stop it. Spirit displacement is simple enough- like what we did at the police station- but this is more like spirit replacement. But it’s essentially replacing one’s mind with another, so maybe focusing on one’s individuality is the best way to resist.”

“Classic. It’s all about you, innit, Maxie,” he looked to the side and wandered a few steps away as I began to work at my ascot and buttons to change.

“Of course. Just like your life is all about you.” He only chuckled, suddenly very interested in a book he’d read a thousand times. “Don’t be shy, bunny. Come help me with this.” I met his eyes and gestured to my clothes.

“Um, I- ‘Bunny?’” He stammered. “We still doing that nickname?”

“Obviously. You call me kitty. I thought you should get a nickname too,” I grinned at him. Even in the low light of the candles I could see his cheeks and ears turn bright red as I continued, leaving my vest and shirt loose.

A look crossed his face, replacing the flustered expression of before, one of smugness. He approached and slid his hands around my sides, underneath the cloth, working them off of me.

My heartbeat picked up, and I got lost in looking at him. Really looking at him. The definition of his jaw, the way his shoulders curved into his arms, the tapering of his chest into his hips.

And I wanted it all.

I felt my heart melting, letting go of my resentment and othering of him. He was so, so annoying, always getting in my space, but god, I loved him for it.

“Is this good?” he questioned lowly, hands drifting ever lower.

“No,” I gasped. “I want more.”

He grazed the interior of my thigh, guiding my hands to his chest with his free hand. “As you wish,” he breathed.

With that, I pulled his face to my own, kissing him until we were both breathless. As soon as I couldn’t breathe anymore, I let him dip down to my neck and shoulders, working at his buttons where I could.

It felt like walking on the moon.

Soon enough both our clothes lay scattered on the floor, the two of us a tangled, frenzied mess. Whispered ‘I love you’s’ and infinite kisses spilled from our lips. Red spots sprinkled across necks led to fingers clasped tightly together, hot heavy breaths, sounds and movements driving the two of us ever closer and closer. By the time we had both finished, I could hardly keep my head up.

After getting cleaned up as best we could and a great deal of tight snuggles, he started dozing off next to me. Pulling the blankets over us two, I lost myself in his sugary, strawberry scent and silky feel, sweet nothings passing between us like water.

The eye of the storm could only harbour us for so long, I reminded myself as I drifted off. Once morning arrived, we’d have to face the music.

Come what may, I was going to get what I wanted, and I was going to come out on top.

❁

I woke up slowly, from the most comfortable sleep I’d ever had. There was no need to remember that it was Andrew’s toned arms around my back- he’d been at the forefront of my unconscious mind all night. I wiggled forwards, further into his warmth, surprised to find that even the eternal cold I felt could be quelled by him.

Then it occurred to me that I was still messy from the night prior. I never remembered to anticipate how… wet, the act could be.

I gently prodded him, pinching his cheeks to rouse him. His bleary eyes opened. “I’m not fucking going to class today, kitten,” he mumbled before burrying his face in my neck once more.

“Neither am I. I just want to know where the showers are,” I whispered back, booping the end of his nose and running my hands through his long bronze locks.

“In the middle of the hall or somethin’. There’s like, four doors in between here and there?” He didn’t loosen his hold on me, and I wondered if he planned on letting me go at all.

I had to pry him off of me, chuckling with his sleepy cries of protest, but I managed to coax my way up.

“I’ll get one after you,” he mumbled as he turned back over. “I’m not awake yet.”

I laughed, growing accustomed to the cold air and resolving to turn the heat up as high as possible once I got in. Just before I reached the door however, I paused. “Bunny?”

He was still cutely buried in the blankets. “Yeah, kitty?”

“I love you.”

With that he flicked the covers back, showing his daffy grin. “I love you too.”

❁

Hot steam rose around me as the events of the last few weeks rose to the front of my mind. With calm resolve and respect to who he was- to what he would’ve wanted- I was done crying about Henry. I didn’t want to kill Serena, because I knew Henry wouldn’t have wanted that, either. Instead, I wanted to make her suffer. I was well aware of how unpleasant the backlash of improper sorcery could be, but I didn’t care. Coercing my friend into slitting his own throat would always be worse.

As Andrew had undoubtedly gone back asleep, I savoured my time to think.

We first had to find a way to corner Serena. Beyond that, we had to reveal her in a way that would spare Cassius the same fate as her. All the while, we had to avoid being murdered.

I put my head against the cloudy glass of the shower door. I’d already stalled enough in the investigation, but fear and anger paradoxically kept me rooted in place. Perhaps a part of me believed that staying still would help. That if I followed this path any further, I would end up the same way Henry did.

It tortured me. Even if there was nothing beyond the grave, and life had no true meaning, that did not mean I couldn’t assign it a meaning according to my own will. Right now that purpose was revenge, a feat proving impossible due to the chains my own mind saw fit to impose on me.

At the last possible moment, however, like a strike of lightning- something I’d missed. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten-

Henry’s code! When was the last time I’d seen Phantom-?

A splitting headache suddenly overcame me, knocking me back. I nearly screamed with the pain, crumpling to the floor with head in hands.

Such a clever little thing, aren’t you, poindexter? Serena’s voice spoke directly into my brain.

The last thing I felt were tears of agony rolling down my face, until my skin felt like it was ripped off. I felt lighter, and sickeningly numb.

I could see my body, skinny, nude, and curled up on the floor. It was small, and oh so weak.

But it was still mine, and she had just taken it over. I honestly, truly didn’t think she’d take it this far. Was Cassius not enough?

The horror I felt was indescribable. I wasn’t just dead now, I was a puppet.

Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’ll always be safe.

#Chapter Six #✒️ you write and i’ll read 📖 #📖 the detective an the crook 🖋 #writing #my writing #tw murder #tw suicide #tw crime #tw kidnapping #tw arranged marriage #tw transphobia #tw homophobia #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw nudity #tw swearing #tw suggestive #tw weapons

[introductions-are-a-spook]

When Smoke Meets the Trees

❁〚 Chapter Three 〛❁

The following Sunday morning was bright, a cold breeze pouring through the window, providing me a mellow wake-up call. I pulled the blankets up closer, before realising that something was new.

The blankets were unusually heavy, the room smelling like sugar rather than the smokey scent of cigarettes and candles I was used to. I sat up in overly silky pyjamas, finding Andrew out cold at the desk.

I slid out of the bed, reassuring myself that we had only talked last night. I put a hand on his shoulder, shaking him.

“Hang on,” he muttered. “Uhh, whatever it was, Izzy did it.”

I rolled my eyes. “Who?”

He jerked up, redoing his top button and fruitlessly attempting to smooth his scruffy curls. “Oh! Max, uh- my friend. Total mom, that Isabella. Nifty code-cracker, too.Um, anyway, I didn’t touch you, I sat here the whole time. I didn’t look when you changed, either-”

“I believe you. It is Sunday, isn’t it?”

He glanced at a calendar, uttering a short confirmation.

“Then we have a full day to work. We ought to get started sooner rather than later. You seem familiar with the police, do you think you could finagle the records I was denied out of them?”

“Man with a plan, aren’t ya? Maybe you shoulda been a concertmaster,” he chuckled. I gave him a wry look. “Of course I can do it. Who the hell do you think I am?”

“I’m not sure. Everyone seems to have a different idea of you.” I may have grown fond of him, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t willing to use him. Why should I have to choose?

“Who?”

“Ah, there it is. Very concerned with how you’re viewed. No wonder you’re so paranoid. You steal-” I gestured to the locket he had returned to me- “And lie, too, it seems,” I finished by setting the ordinary coin he’d put in my pocket yesterday- instead of whatever evidence he’d actually taken- on his desk.

He stared and me blankly, a slight curve to his mouth. “Not bad, kitten. Really got this detective thing down, eh?”

I looked down, suddenly very interested in his cluttered desk.

“What’s wrong, kitty-cat? You’re red as a rose,” he smirked, reclining leisurely. I hated how smoothly he swayed power back to himself. It earned him a nice, solid swat to the head. “Okay, okay! And what do you plan on doing all day?”

“Easy. I’m going to look for suspects,” I stated simply, turning instead toward yesterday’s clothes and stepping behind the wardrobe door to avoid his pining gaze.

“Hold up- in all seriousness, wouldn’t me stealing files from the fuzz and you going after a killer mandate us being in danger?”

I considered that for a moment, mulling over several carefully-worded responses. “Yes… Well, ‘freedom is no fairy gift to fall into a man’s lap,’” I quoted. “Think of it more as, gathering information. If you find yourself trapped, figure out the best way to regain your freedom.”

He giggled. “You’re as bad as me, huh?”

“Maybe. Difference is that I’m on the right side.”

“Didn’t think you believed in right and wrong, but a’ight,” he mused, standing and going to open his closet. And then opening a hidden compartment in said closet.

“Of course not. Morals are a spook. Being on my own side has always been the best way to go.”

He laughed again, though nothing about it sounded sardonic. “Did you script that?”

“No. Why?”

He pointed to his bookshelf, still fiddling with whatever was in the closet. “Sounds like somethin’ outta one of my books.”

And sure enough, there they were- at least one book for nearly every type of anarchy. “You play all teams, then?”

“Each one’s got something valuable. I don’t bother with specific adjectives. But-” he turned around, holding some sort of tank top and a bag full of trinkets. “-we didn’t come all this way to talk politics. I need to work my way into this thingy and stock it, so you might as well get going.”

“What is that thing?”

“I call it extra pocket space, but uhh, really it’s just a flat sports bra. Point is, it’s the perfect spot to keep contraband!”

I snorted and grimaced slightly. “I’ll let you change, then- and meet you at the benches by four.”

“Sounds good to me. Now unless you wanna see me half-nude- which I don’t blame ya if you do- I suggest you scram,” he winked over his shoulder, tugging up the bottom of his shirt.

I flushed, cursing him again. “I hate you, you know that? I really can’t stand you,” I shook my head, making my way to the door.

“You keep tellin’ yourself that! Maybe someday it’ll be true,” he called.

“Allons-y, Andrew!” I finished , loudly shutting the door.

❁

I wasn’t lying, nor faking being friendly.

Not entirely, anyway.

I’ve liked many people I didn’t trust- it didn’t matter how I felt about them when I wanted information from them. This is what lead me behind Andrew’s back and to his best friend.

“Funny chance running into you here, Maxwell,” Isabella began. Chance. Right, that’s what me popping up in a cafeteria I had gagged at the day before was. Pure coincidence. “Did I see you and Andrew in the same bedroom last night? Anything to share?” she wiggled her eyebrows at me.

I felt my ears go pink in embarrassment, gritting my teeth at the assumption. “Actually, while we’re together, I was hoping you could help me with something,” The insinuation from before wasn’t worth dignifying with a response.

“Mmm, okay. What’s up?” she’d stopped teasing, leaning forward, head slightly tilted. I briefly wondered how someone as crooked as Andrew wound up with someone as kind as Isabella.

I picked at my meagre salad a bit, making sure I was keeping up the act. “It’s about, um, Henry.” I felt a dull pang in my heart at the sound of his name. “Something doesn’t seem right about it. I was told you were good with codes and handwriting?”

Her compassion melted into suspicion. “Told by who?”

I put a hand to my cheek, feigning being flustered. “Just… some boy.”

Something in her gaze changed, it was almost pitying. “Oh, I get it. No need to shoot the messenger, then. What did he want done that made him need a stand-in?”

“Something not to be shown in public. Perhaps if you could teach me what you know, I could solve the rest behind closed doors.” I didn’t want to believe she was this easy to fool.

“I’ll do what I can,” she raised an eyebrow. “What do you need to know?”

“What’s the best way to tell a real handwriting from a forgery by someone else?” I was, of course, thinking of the bullshit ‘too much stress, too little friends’ farewell note that was- according to the paper- dumped on Henry’s desk. I only really needed Andrew to get a copy of it for me. If it had been enough to convince law enforcement, perhaps Henry had been forced to write it in his own hand. If not, there was certainly something that would give it away.

Not that I wanted to drag myself back to the dorms. Grief takes time, I reminded myself, and no matter what, I was still human.

“It’s usually the dots and dashes in t’s and i’s and stuff that give it away. Also, numbers don’t show up as much so they tend to get muddied. You can look at the way their letters string together, too- if at all.”

I quickly snuffed out the idea of writing any of this down. “Thank you. And what about code-cracking?”

“I mean, there’s the common stuff like Caesar, Atbash and Vingere, and then there’s custom codes, which you’d need a key for. Codes are tough, because you can substitute just about anything for anything. It helps to know the code-maker personally.”

I nodded, mulling over what she’d said. As much as I didn’t want to spend my afternoon hunched over paper, I couldn’t get anyone else to do it, either.

“Thank you. I’ll tell Andrew about this,” I stood to leave, leaving the pathetic bowl of untouched lettuce behind.

“Of course. Tell him I say hi,” she waved.

I nodded, but stopped after a few steps. Surely I could use her for more than this.

“One more thing.” She looked up at me expectantly. “You’re good friends with Andrew, right?”

“Of course I am. I’m the only thing keeping that dumbass’s head on his shoulders,” she gestured to a schedule beside her. To one side, it had a list of dates, each one with something like, ‘dress rehearsal,’ or ‘chiropractor appt.’ beside it. Below the planner, a history textbook full of disorganised papers that she seemed to be ordering.

I stifled a laugh. “I see. I was just going to ask if you knew his other friends as well. Jennifer, Cassius-” she started to nod, “-and perhaps Serena, as well?”

She pursed her lips ever so slightly. “I know Cassius is one of his history buddies,” I noted how her brow furrowed at his mention. “But Jennifer is his on-again-off-again girlfriend- currently I think she’s plotting his murder, but give it two months and they’ll get along again,” she dryly chuckled.

I did my best to hide how I felt like I had been stabbed in the chest, swallowing hard and setting my jaw. “Well, thank you again for your time-” I started to go, but she stood to stop me.

“Maxwell, listen. The only thinking Andrew ever does is with his sticky fingers, sweet tooth, and the brain below his belt. If you want to stay out of trouble, stay away from trouble, because that’s all he is.”

I gritted my teeth, more at Andrew than her, and turned to leave.

“By the way,” she paused me. “This little sweetie found me last night. I think she misses you,” at her heels was none other than Phantom, who trotted over to me.

I didn’t know what to say, so I simply thanked her and walked out in my swirl of emotions.

It isn’t cheating, I told myself, if he isn’t mine to begin with. But I knew damn well why it hurt all the same.

❁

Lighting a cigarette, I stewed for a while, checking my watch periodically to see the minutes surrounding half past two crawl by at an agonising pace.

Phantom slowly approached a squirrel, teal and brown sets of beady eyes meeting before she started to give chase. Good. It was the second time I’d seen that same squirrel. While it wasn’t impossible, it was strange.

But I had enough to think about already. I couldn’t stop thinking his name. And then his name. And back and forth, on and on it went. Andrew. Henry. Andrew. Henry. Andrew. Henry-

“Maxwell, hi. I thought I saw you brooding out here.”

I looked to my left, finding the platinum blonde hair and perfect clothes that made my stomach twist. “Oh, hello, Cassius. I was just, uh, waiting for someone.” Of course, he took that as an invitation to stay, once again peeking at the book in my hands.

“Sherlock Holmes? Seems a bit below you, doesn’t it?” he nudged the cover of the book closed, running a finger over the lettering.

“They’re comfort stories. What of it?” I wished for all the world that he would sit even a few inches further away.

His posture straightened, his eyes going hazy. It made my skin crawl. “Oh dear. Did something happen?”

I glared in incredulous disbelief. “Oh, I don’t know. Something about my best friend dying?” I snapped, taking no care to contain my mounting ire.

He abruptly pulled away, standing up and brushing the non-existent dirt from his clothes. “Careful with the tongue, poindexter. People might think you want revenge if you let yourself blow up.” There was a hint of haughtiness in his undue scolding. My heart beat heavy, my hands trembled ever so slightly as I scowled at him.

“I’ve got a lot on my mind, and I certainly don’t need-” I stopped, thoughts flickering back to my first talk with Andrew. ‘Cass isn’t acting right.’ How would Cassius know it was revenge for a murder if everyone was told it was suicide? “Why don’t you just leave me alone. Another storm’s brewing anyway. Wouldn’t want to mess up your perfect,” I gestured to him, head to toe- “everything.”

Cassius seemed to pout for a moment before turning tail and stalking off. I felt a chill run down my spine. If even Andrew was being cautious, maybe I ought to be as well.

I decided the best course of action would be to leave. Snow was coming, and I trusted that my relocating to the library would be and obvious enough choice for Andrew to follow me there. And it was, just not to the man I’d hoped. In fact, my visitor wasn’t a man at all.

This time she kept a respectful distance, twirling firey red hair around a finger as she disinterestedly skimmed a book picked at random.

“Are you the Benoit boy?” she piped up as soon as I was beginning to think she wasn’t here for me.

I heaved a sigh. Could I not get a single break today? “Who wants to know?”

“No need to be so paranoid, Maxwell. Andrew talks a lot about you, so I feel like I already know you,” her smile looked like the kind you’d find at Sunday morning Mass.

“I see. And I take it you’re Jeniffer,” I muttered cautiously.

“I am. I wanted to talk to you about Andrew, actually,” she urged. “I noticed you two talking a few times, and had you over for a night. Is there something between you?”

I rolled my eyes. He’s a sleazy, two-timing asshole. If there ever was, there isn’t now, is what I wanted to say, but refrained. “That’s not your business.”

“Hmm. I should tell you- he tends to fool around. I’ve known him since we were kids, I’ve seen it. The only sure thing he’s got going is me.”

I bit my tongue. “And why should that matter to me?”

She huffed, getting as frustrated as I was. “It should tell you to stay away from him. Our parents already plan on us getting married- he may as well be my fiance.”

“I don’t give a damn, alright? I’m the one who chooses whether or not I want to stay,” I hissed. Two-timer, yes, but I couldn’t deny the way my heart warmed at the sound of his name. And I hated it. I hated how my sole focus should’ve been on Henry but here I was getting caught up in some puerile pennyweighter’s problems.

She leaned forward, articulating each word menacingly. “Then I’ll force you to. I’ll make every moment you spend with him a living hell until I get tired of it and finish the job. Do I make myself clear?”

I backed away, wide-eyed, only simpering out a, “Crystal.” Icy strands of fear trickled into my blood. But a clarity I hadn’t felt in a long time also hit me, head on like a speeding car. I stood suddenly, mind racing with a thousand connections forming with everything I’d heard from and about Cassius, everything about how Jennifer had just threatened me.

“You want Andrew so bad? Take him. The last thing any good detective wants is to make friends with criminals,” I shot daggers at her with my eyes, hurrying off.

I was realising far too late that I’d been in the presence of two potential killers, just today. I needed to be more careful, and I needed to get to work. I needed to do it- for myself, and for Henry.

Henry. Henry, Henry, Henry.

He was the only thing I could think of now.

#Chapter Three #✒️ you write and i’ll read 📖 #📖 the detective an the crook 🖋 #writing #my writing #tw murder #tw suicide #tw crime #tw kidnapping #tw arranged marriage #tw transphobia #tw homophobia #tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw nudity #tw swearing #tw suggestive #tw weapons

[introductions-are-a-spook]

An edit to celebrate the new story starting to get written, I guess 🤷🏻‍♂️

Really proud of this one though! Damn, I’m getting good at this 😎

#📖 the detective and the crook 🖋 #edit #my edit #wallpaper #phone wallpaper

[introductions-are-a-spook]

Reblogs and feedback always appreciated! Tag list: @kissthe-gogoat @kyuudomo @caloroso-cosmos @omrade-echorin Let me know if you want to be added or taken off!

Last chapter baby! This was an emotional ride, so sincere thanks to everyone who's stuck with me through it. Both followers, friends, and family. Your support really means the world to me.

“I still don’t understand why you need me for this.”

“I told you, you know the layout better. Since you didn’t give me a map like usual. Sides’ the place is empty- I wanted to ask more about how your whole business works. Somewhere truly private, y’know?”

It was the oldest trick in the book. Get them talking about themself so you can work. Or get them to say something incriminating. Which Antigone, of course, did not oblige.

It was slow work, but Maxwell managed to take back the notes Andrew used to leave in houses. They had sent to work painting the Antigone family seal on them in invisible ink.

With their family’s past (one easily dug up), the police would have no problem convicting Nikos Antigone of everything. All Andrew would have to do was play hostage here in just a few minutes.

“Oh, I need to pick this lock- bit of a two-hand job. Could you hold the note?”

Antigone growled but agreed with a sneer. Andrew discreetly pressed the button for Maxwell. Most likely he was calling the police right now- saying, well, something, anything, to get them there quick. Andrew couldn’t help but smile.

“You know, I didn’t know we went to the same school.” Perfect topic to stall with.

Antigone was immediately thrown off. “What? W-We did?” He sputtered.

Good lord. Bring something up from a criminal’s past and they’re all yours to manipulate.

“According to the book of signatures I passed around on graduation day, yes. Same year and everything.”

Antigone was now staring Andrew down with a dangerous glint in his eye. He ever so slightly thumbed at the dagger hilt on his belt. Okay, backpedaling now.

But the moment he saw faint police lights outside, he knew he had to keep going, for better or for worse. He only had one shot…!

So still fiddling with the lock, he blurted, “I saw your old school sweetheart the other day. Jennifer, right?”

Antigone froze. A stillness hung ominously in the air, like a jaguar about to pounce. The hairs on the back of Andrew’s neck stood up, and he almost started praying.

“How dare-“

Saved by the fuzz, though! As soon as Antigone looked as though he could kill Andrew, the men in uniform came streaming in the front door.

Andrew wasn’t all that scared. He winked at Antigone before yelling. “Help! I’m up here, he’s got a knife! Please help!” And more quietly, “Might wanna check the back of that note, Mr. Tig.”

Antigone didn’t bother to look, and instead pulled out the same weapon Andrew shouted about. “You tricked me!” he jabbed the knife at Andrew, who put his hands up in instinctive defense. “You lying snake!” And to the smaller man’s sickening shock, Antigone swung the knife, barely grazing his cheek and hitting his hand by sheer chance.

But upon hearing footsteps getting closer, the towering villain backed away, leaving Andrew to yelp in shock and fright and the rapidly reddening wound.

An officer stamped his way up the nearby stairs, and shouted at Antigone to freeze, but the man wasn’t having it. Andrew hadn’t thought Antigone would ever use an actual weapon on him- he was wrong. Whimpering in pain and paralyzing, icy fear, he moved only to foolishly pull out the blade and grip his bloodied hand.

“I am not to blame! This scoundrel here-” Antigone shook a finger at Andrew, “-is the thief you’ve been looking for! He did this to himself to make me-”

“Yeah, Chapman told us you’d say that.” A twinge of comfort came with hearing Max’s name, along with the struggling Antigone, who was now being arrested despite his best efforts.

And just like that it’s over, Andrew thought to himself as the officers walked him to a car and drove him to a hospital.

~*~

A day later in that same hospital, Andrew was recovering from a surprisingly quick surgery.

“The knife went through the top of your right palm, losing you a pinky and very nearly your ring finger, too. You have a couple options now; leave the stump or find a prosthetic somehow. Both are up to you to manage,” the soft spoken nurse informed him as soon as he was lucid enough to understand.

“Well, shit. Thanks, uh,” he peeked at her name badge. “Thanks Mary. Guessing you’re not gonna give me a new one for free then?”

“No, but I might,” came a gentle yet dry voice from the door.

Andrew turned as the nurse excused herself. “Max!” a fuzzy black figure hopped up on the bed next to him. “And Maxie!”

“Now, I’m not really supposed to have her in here, so…” Max chuckled, sitting down and giving the cat a few pets.

“Nah, I get it. So, finally coming to see me, huh?”

“I’ve been too swamped with end-of-case work. Our plan worked, you’re off scot free. I considered resigning, but-”

“But you don’t love me that much, I getcha,” Andrew teased.

Maxwell gave him a look. “More that I love my job too much to let it go, risks be damned.”

“Makes sense. But you didn’t come here to talk about work, did you?”

Maxwell reached for Andrew’s now four-fingered hand, gently running his five over the bandages. “This wouldn’t have happened if I had just-”

“Hey, it doesn’t matter now. You know that,” Andy reassured him, running his good hand through Max’s thick black locks. The man leaned into the touch, putting his own hand on Andy’s cheek.

“You terrify me,” he almost whispered after a moment. Andrew tilted his head but didn’t say anything. “I’ve never felt so conflicted before meeting you. It was torture. And even now I can’t be sure that loving you is a good thing.”

“Neither can I. And I’ve never met someone that can make me feel so cornered. I didn’t know I wanted to be. But, we’re both selfish jerks. So if loving you is gonna be bad for me, it wouldn’t be the first bad decision either of us has made.”

This made Max chuckle and lean in to kiss Andy. “You’re probably right.”

~*~

It had been a few months. A new metal finger glinted on Andrew’s right hand.

“Jennifer.”

“Andrew.”

“So, I heard ole’ Mr. Antigone is in prison now?”

She gave a solemn nod. “For ten years.”

Andrew blew a low whistle. “Well, shit.”

Her demeanor went from closed to fiery. “This is your fault, you know. I know you and Chapman did something to pin your shit on Nikos. And now I won’t be able to see him!”

Andrew drew away slightly. Both were silent for a time.

“…I think I get it now.”

“What.”

“I remind you of him, don’t I? That’s why when he disappeared to lead his family’s ‘business’ you attached yourself to me.”

She sighed. “…I don’t know. I guess I just hoped I could still hold onto him somehow.”

“So you held on to the crook classmate that shared some resemblance with him.”

She shook her head. Not as a ‘no’ but more as a self-chastise.

“We were horrible for each other. It’s no wonder we fell apart.”

“Yeah.” Another pause. “You could see about visitations.”

“I’ll figure that out on my own. I don’t even know if he’d want to see me. But, I know there’s still good in him. At least I hope so.”

“Heh. There’s my Jenny. Always hoping-“

“-never planning. I know, I know.”

He stood up and started to get ready to go.

“For what it’s worth, I’m at least sort of glad I knew you,” she said with a twinge of sadness.

“Same here. It’s probably best if we didn’t stay friends, but I’m sticking with that bakery. You can always come find me.”

And for the first time in years, she smiled at him- a genuine smile. “Thanks, Andrew. Good luck with your bitch detective.”

“With George and Darwin always lurking around? I’m gonna need it. Good luck with your crime lord.”

“I think I’ll need it too.”

They laughed, and then left, one by one.

~*~

Isabella was melancholically gathering her belongings from the bakery, occasionally swiping up a tear. Andrew walked in by coincidence, and she rushed to hug him.

“It’s not gonna be the same around here without me,” she mumbled into his chest.

“No, but it’s probably for the best,” he said, returning the embrace. “I’m so sorry, Izzy. It wasn’t fair for me to bring you into all this.”

“No, it’s alr… No, you’re right.” And with that, she couldn’t help but start crying again. “But thanks for being my dad, if only for a little while.”

“Dad, really?” he chuckled. “Sure kid. You changed my world for the better. Even if I hurt you.”

“I’ll never forget you. And… Well, I love you.”

“I love you too, girlie.”

She held onto him for just a little longer, before taking a shaky breath and grabbing her bag. “I don’t know if I can,” she whispered.

He gave her a dim smile. “You’re tough, kiddo. You can’t stay shackled to someone like me, though. I know you’ve got the guts to do what’s best for you.”

She wavered, unsure if she wanted to hug him again. But ultimately, she steeled herself, said a goodbye, and walked away leaving a bittersweet taste behind.

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Fifty miles from the Chapman house and twenty years ago, rain fell over an English boarding school. Children ran from building to building, clutching their bags under hunched chests in an attempt to protect them.

Visible through a window, one student sat huddled on a library bench, nose deep in a book. And of course they didn’t see through their concentration to the rambunctious upperclassman arguing with the librarian.

“I told you before, my father tore the book, not me. I can get the money to pay for it, it’ll just take a couple days!”

“That’s ridiculous. Just why in the world would a parent do that, hmm?”

“You obviously don’t know him like I do,” he snipped under his breath.

After a moment more of this, he sauntered over to where the bookworm- maybe a grade or two below him, sat. Flopping down, he groaned.

Finally the quiet one spoke. “Mrs. Kingsley’s going to wring your neck if you don’t replace the book soon, you know.”

“Yeah, I get it already. Geez.” The older boy looked at the younger with a raised eyebrow. “Hey I know you, you’re in my chemistry class. Mary, right?”

“Er, it’s Maxwell. And yes, what about it?”

“Isn’t that a bit too hard for you? You’re what, twelve?”

“Fourteen. You?”

“Aww, a little shrimp. I’m seventeen. Andrew, by the way,” although teasing, his tone lacked any genuine malice. He held out a hand to shake.

“Nice to meet you, prick.”

Andrew laughed. “Damn right. Whatcha reading?”

Maxwell tilted the book. A collection of Sherlock Holmes stories. “I want to be a detective when I get out of school, so I’m studying now.”

“That’s cool. We better get to class though, the bell’s gonna ring soon,” Andrew said, standing up and checking his watch.

Maxwell reluctantly closed his book and nodded. “Just try to pay for the book soon, okay? Mrs. Kingsley isn’t the only one who cares about this library.”

“Oh sure. I’ll just steal the money from my dad while he’s at church or something,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Nice meeting you, Maxwell!”

“Same here. Criminal!”

Andrew laughed and walked off. Maxwell allowed a chuckle as he went the opposite way.

~*~

Six pictures were laid out in front of Andrew. All of various bedrooms. Half he recognized- Maxwell’s, Isabella’s, and his own. The other three varied. There was a rather plain, maroon themed bedroom with several camera monitors in one corner. Another was coated wall-to-wall in weapons and a bright scarlet palette. The last of which was more pink and the most homely, with picture frames full of people everywhere. All belonging to Maxwell’s siblings, most likely.

And yet, Andrew was not confused. In fact, he was quite disturbed. He sat with his ferret, Brie, in his arms, petting her in an attempt to calm down.

He had finally worked up the courage to read the letter. Mr. Antigone had left a graphic plan of all the horrible things he would do if Andrew didn’t leave Maxwell as soon as possible. He detailed all the ways he could get away with it, and included the pictures as proof of his deadly seriousnessand capability.

Well if he hasn’t killed me yet, it probably means he wants me alive. He must be trying to beat me into submission.

What a mess. Within just a few weeks of going out with Max, Andrew’s world had turned upside down. Of all the people in the world, he had to fall in love with a detective.

A knock at the downstairs door stirred him. Quietly putting Brie in her pen, he cursed himself for not burning the letter as told. Walking down to the front on tiptoe, he slipped a kitchen knife into his pocket- just in case.

Another knock. Andrew took a deep breath, prepared for the worst, and opened the door.

“Maxwell! Oh, it’s just you, thank god,” he sighed in relief.

Maxwell raised an eyebrow. “Of course it’s me, who else would it be?” He cut Andrew off before he could respond. “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. We need to talk.”

A twinge of fear settled in Andrew’s gut. “About what? Is everything okay?”

“Given that you feel the need to answer the door with a knife in your coat,” he gestured to how poorly it was hidden, “No, things are far from okay.”

Andrew studied Maxwell’s face. His handsome features were pulled into a grave expression, his demeanor uncomfortable.

“Why don’t you come in,” Andrew said, holding the door ajar for the other man.

“Thank you,” Maxwell responded, sitting down at an empty booth in the main shop. Andrew sat down across from him, and they sat in silence for a long few moments.

Maxwell slowly tapped his thumbs together. Andrew could see how his eyes faded in deep thought.

“Andrew.”

“Yes?”

“Are you…” he took a shaky breath. “No. I know you’re the thief.”

Andrew’s stomach flipped, but he calmed himself. “You’re good. Guilty as charged. Is this my day of reckoning, then?” His tone was bitter, almost scared.

For the first time since arriving, Maxwell looked Andrew directly in the eye. “I have an idea.”

“You didn’t answer my question, but go on,” he said with a dry chuckle.

“Tell me, who is Nikos Antigone?”

Andrew stood up suddenly. “What do you mean, has he contacted you? Have you met him?”

“So you do know him. He sent me a letter- or, as it turns out, two letters. The first ‘anonymously’ telling me to run away from you, the second saying that you robbed him. Tell me, have you ever used violence in your hijinks?”

“I don’t know how much you’ll believe me, but no, I haven’t.”

“I figured as much. So it was Antigone that broke your nose a couple weeks back?”

Andrew hesitated. Was this an interview? But Maxwell seemed so genuinely worried. “Yeah, basically.”

“I’m very sorry,” he said, brushing a finger over the bridge that was still sore. Andy winced slightly, causing Max to draw his hand away.

“I’m not going to turn you in. I want to help, but to do that, I need answers. Could you tell me more?” He was now surprisingly soft.

So with a heavy sigh, Andrew spilled his guts about everything, even ousting Isabella’s involvement in the process. He also provided some insight on Jennifer. She was the daughter of a nobleman, one that rudely broke off dealings with the Antigone family’s crime loop, when she was just a baby.

Despite this, all four of them had attended the same school without realizing. She and the young Nikos were the best of friends, before they all went their separate ways, and Nikos followed in his family’s footsteps. Andrew was doing jobs for him simply to make him money and to be a jewel in his crown.

“You won’t have to be for long. If we can find a way to get him in the wrong place at the wrong time, we can pin all of your wrongdoings on him.”

“Maxwell, no. You could lose your job if you did that!”

“I’m more than willing-“

“And besides, I’m the one at the wheel, I should take the blame-“

“You think I haven’t shuffled blame before? You know neither of us have ever cared about morals and virtue.”

“That may be true, but this is still a huge risk. One I’m not willing to let you take for me!”

“Well too bad, because I refuse to allow you to keep on like this. If you don’t let me help, I’ll find a way to do something on my own.”

“Max, what the hell has gotten into you? Why can’t you let me sort out my own problems- or just throw me in jail already?”

“Because I love you, you nitwit!”

There was a long, charged silence. The tension of argument melted away, leaving something else entirely in its place.

“I… I think I love you too. And I don’t want you to get hurt. You have no idea the things this guy will do to you.”

Max held Andy’s hand, up on the table. “You’re right, I don’t. But I know with our combined minds, we can outsmart him.”

Andrew took a deep, shuddering breath. “Do you really think so?”

Maxwell nodded. “The Antigone family has done enough damage. It’s about time someone put a stop to it. I only have one condition.”

“That being?”

“For both of our sakes, you need to drop your game. Once Nikos is in prison, well…”

Andrew nodded and pondered for a moment. “I’d need something else after the fact- to keep me entertained. But yes, for you, I will.”

“Then our plot can be your last heist. Any ideas as to a replacement?”

“You could marry me, and we could run away together. Be musicians in Vienna till’ we’re old,” Andy smirked.

Max giggled. “Ask me again in three years.”

And then he gave Andy the most lovestruck look. Andy returned it. They glanced at their pose- they were awfully close.

“I’d ask if I could kiss you, but there’s a table in the way,” Andy whispered with a quiet laugh.

“Just get over here, you,” Max then pulled a laughing Andy by his tie to the nearest wall, moving close, only to be stopped.

“Hang the hell on, you’re the short one, shouldn’t you be the one-“

Max swatted Andy’s arm. “Oh, shut up.” And with that, they finally closed the gap.

Andy smelled like fresh cakes, and Max like old books. Where the thief tasted like strawberries, the detective was like tea with milk; both felt like smooth butter.

Andy’s arms were strong as he lifted Max and held him so close. They stood like that for a long time, pausing only to dash upstairs. Andrew had only one thought before his mind went blank with bliss.

Antigone thinks he can use me as a puppet. Poor man has no idea what he’s messing with.

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