life is just a euphemism

“I did some research at the library and all I could find was something called cloud forest? It’s basically a forest with a persistent fog at a vegetation level? But at the same time this can’t be it because they made it clear it’s a phenomenon typical for tropical or subtropical climate.“ Edith ranted about her newest discovery (or lack thereof), for some reason she felt comfortable sharing it with Daniel. At his next words, his determination was met with her own and she stared at him, mimicking his stance with arms folded across her chest until it became clear to her it was pointless. They were on the same side and therefore she had to trust him and his judgement, goddammit. “Stop, Dan, fuck– listen.” Edith rushed forward to catch up with him and appear before him. “Don’t tell me you’ll be fine, tell me you’ll be careful.”

***

He was impressed she did research. He wasn’t exactly surprised, but still, he thought it reflected well on her. Maybe one day he could try to recruit her to join the police force, though he knew she was committed to the work she was already doing. “There is something strange about it. I don’t know if anything like this has ever been seen before.” He watched as she mimicked his movements, and he met her eyes. He wasn’t going to give in on this because he was looking out for her. He sighed and relaxed some at her next words. She was trying to do the same for him that he wanted to do with her. He could be understanding. “I’ll be careful, Edith. I promise. I’m going to go to work before I’m late, but I’ll fill you in when I come by with dinner.” Daniel said his goodbyes and walked away quickly as to not risk her catching up. 

Instinctively, Jack wanted to protect whoever was behind it. Nothing was more sacred than a secret and Daniel could stare him down with that all-knowing look of his all day, Jack would not break. He would not even budge. But soon, he recalled Tyler didn’t mind taking the fall - described it as taking credit even, if he remembered correctly. So he blabbed. “I didn’t really know him until he got his hands on my phone number but his name was Tyler and he bought me a coffee. N-not that I would sell you out cheap! I kinda, you know, didn’t dislike the idea of a prank so I didn’t need an awful lot of convincing I guess. Thought it might bring some good laughs around here, between you and I.” In a perfect world, Daniel would’ve nearly fallen from his chair when the screaming goat popped up and Jack could’ve jumped in like those TV-people going You just got punkd! and they would’ve laughed over it.

Alas, this was the real world and precinct life went on as usual. Nobody seemed to even care much for the interrogation that had broken out at the desk. “Phew, well, remind me to never commit an actual crime cause I would not get that past you.” The weight of the stress he’d been under slowly vanished and left room for relief - relief of the comical kind apparently. As if thanks to his confession, all was forgiven and forgotten, Jack chuckled and gave a friendly pat on detective Mickey’s upper arm. Someone had to be the first to laugh at the incident, right? From longingly looking back at his safe space behind his computer to facing the gruff man in front of him, Jack realized maybe the time wasn’t ripe yet to turn this into a funny anecdote to share at the water cooler. “So uh, did I say sorry yet?”

***

This poor, poor boy. He was already getting corrupted by Tyler. Daniel’s anger switched to pity like one flipped a light switch. His anger was now directed entirely at Tyler. He knew where he got the money to pay for the coffee – it was the money Tyler owed Daniel. Jack was just trying to be a nice guy. There was no way he could fault him for that. He immediately softened, his arms and shoulders dropping. “Tyler is a crook. He wants to make my life as hard as possible, and you shouldn’t trust him in the future,” he warned. He even smiled a bit that Jack was trying to bond with him. He was trying and that was exactly why Daniel needed to keep him away from Tyler. 

He dreaded going into work, dreaded hearing about what new shops had been broken into or new people reported missing. It was an absolute nightmare. No matter what anyone did, nothing seemed to help or make matters better. The police were doing the best they could. It’s not like they really knew what they were doing either. They could try to manage everything to the best of their abilities, but it didn’t seem like that was enough. 

Mierda. Mierda mierda mierda. The time warnings had been up for a few days now, and Jesus knew better. He even had them saved on his phone, because he was terrible at remembering important stuff. But he must’ve lost track of time while he was out- looking over the Cage, making sure the extended absence hadn’t led to deterioration or looting, plus swinging by his apartment to pick up some stuff- and when he checked his phone he realized with horror that it was almost 5pm.

So he’d wound up here, a cafe with badly boarded windows and a broken front door. Jesus didn’t realize that there’d been looting this bad, especially since he remembered coming here to eat just a few weeks ago. But right now he just needed four walls around him and hopefully he could find a safe space to shelter for the next few hours, since the mist was too thick for him to risk driving his bike in and he didn’t want to call one of the others out for a rescue. This was his fault anyway, for not paying more attention to the world around him. 

He was only a few steps in when he heard movement, and one hand tightened on his bag while the other shifted to his back pocket where he kept a switchblade (less for self-defense than the fact that knives were surprisingly useful multi-purpose tools in certain situations). 

“Someone there?” he called warily into the dark.

@danielxmickey​

His life was explicitly defined by when he was working and when he wasn’t. Everything else was put on the back burner as the sheriff’s department dealt with the mist. There were the hours when he was at work, searching through the mist. There were the hours when he was at home, sheltered in place, trying to take the time minute by minute. 

He had a good schedule going, but he didn’t necessarily like this work. He felt like everything that was happening was his fault. He didn’t know what he could have done, but he felt like he could have done more to figure out what the mist was before it spread. Daniel was dejected with this police work because it just kept getting worse and worse. It felt like there was no solution in sight, and it left him feeling hopeless as he went to work. But he did his job to the best of his ability because he had to. 

He was headed to work, his shift starting when the mist came in strong. He mistimed when he left for work. Or the mist was just getting stronger earlier. Whatever the case, Daniel needed to find shelter and fast. He ducked into the nearest building, not thinking much of it. He was usually so observant, but he was in a panic. If this was any other time, he would have noticed how poorly boarded up this place was, that there were still visible cracks in the windows or that some of the boards were about to fall off. 

Amelia blinked, her lips parting in wavering doubt. Then at last she said. “Uh, a suicide.” There was no necessity in lying to him. She had nothing to lose by disclosing the cause of her father’s death. But the thick lump in her throat was hard to swallow and she had to fight to keep her features from showing a tinge of sadness. Even after all these years, Amelia could still taste the scent of stale blood in her mouth. She remembered the way she’d raged at his grave after the funeral, angry that he’d left her all alone. She should visit him sometime soon, she thinks. She hasn’t had the chance to do so in a long time. She hasn’t wanted to after Madison’s revelations. She gives Daniel a sweet smile in return, her enstatite eyes brightening.

The room was vast, cramped with high towering shelves that reached the ceiling. They looked steady despite their age. Each nook filled with binders or old boxes. Stepping further into the room, Amelia turns to take in the nearest cabinet. The files are so obsolete that a layer of dust covers them. Her fingers graze past the worn labels. 1953. Daniel’s admission has her break from her reverie. “Only if it really is no trouble.” She yields, a playful grin curling amonst her lips. “Right. - How’s that going? Have you found any clue as to what it is?” There’s no subtlety in her question but she can’t help but be compelled to ask.

***

At her words, he bit his lip and looked away. That wasn’t what he was expecting and it brought with it a flood of memories. Memories of his mom when she was happy and smiling and in love with his dad. Memories of the way his mom moved around the house like a ghost after the scandal with his dad. And the last memory he had of her – of finding her in the bathtub. Despite everything that happened, she had been his best friend, and thinking about her, still filled him with pain. “I would love to do anything I can to help.” He said the words firmly. He didn’t know the whole situation but he knew how much it could hurt, so he wanted to help to the best of his abilities. 

Paul let out a long-suffering sigh and thought back to the last handful of times that he had seen Madison. She seemed to him that she was someone who was very well used to getting what she wanted, and using the people who couldn’t get her what she requested. She’d toss her hair and push up her cleavage and it had made Paul roll his eyes on more than one occasion. He worked in a strip club, of all places, and so her use of sensuality was barely a blip on his radar. Which was something she’d caught on to fairly quickly, since she moved on to the next dealer, in search of a ‘better high’ than his ‘shitty stash.’ Whatever. No one else had any complaints. “She was annoyed about something with the club, pulled a Karen, and left,” he said, settling on a half-truth. “It had to have been more than a month before she went missing.”

He cocked his head to the side and tried to calculate the time between her hissy fit and the news of her disappearance. “Might have been longer or short. To be frank, I really didn’t give a shit if I saw her around or not.” Perhaps not the wisest choice of words, but they had already been spoken and Paul wasn’t going to trip over himself to clarify. That would just make him look nervous, or like he had something to hide. Which, sure – he wasn’t exactly trying to disclose that he was dealing drugs, but he had nothing to do with the Redding girl or her disappearance, or her death – if she was even really dead. “So this is how desperate you guys are for answers, huh?” 

***

“Okay.” He jotted down some notes. Unfortunately, this didn’t seem that out of the blue. She fought with about three-fourths of the town. It wasn’t a strong motive because it could apply to anyone. He couldn’t help but feel a sinking feeling in his stomach. He wanted Paul to say something incriminating. Of course, he wouldn’t be biased and search for things to make him sound guilty, but he wanted Paul to be outright with it. He didn’t trust the other man at all. He didn’t doubt he was back to doing the same shady business he did in Detroit but in Grimmbrook. He didn’t have any evidence to go on, so this was finally a chance to catch him in the midst of something illegal. But it didn’t seem like he had done anything in this case. He was indifferent, but not in a way that seemed like he was faking it. 

Ariela laughed freely and openly for a good few seconds. It was always a mark of pride to her when those words rolled out of his mouth, almost expecting a pout to form on his lips. For what it was worth, she felt accomplished that day. “Oh. So 5, then,” she said, her smile fading to something much more manageable. She giggled a little more then turned again so she could tip her head back into the sunlight. “That’s a nice thought, though.” 

It was. Maybe she wasn’t a mind reader, but with everything she knew Daniel saw on a day to day basis she had to think the word ‘sun’ didn’t cross his mind all that often. She took in one more moment of peaceful sunshine before she blew out a breath, sitting upright and choosing to stare down at the concrete steps rather than him for the time being. “I… maybe, sort of have found myself-” 

She paused. She didn’t exactly want to say ‘stuck.’ That seemed a lot harsher than she wanted it to sound. “Temporarily shored up at… The Midnight Pub?” Oh no. That hadn’t sounded all that good either. 

It was nice to sit outside with his work left inside at his desk. It was nice to get fresh air, to get some sun. If he had work to do, he would stay holed up inside until it was complete. He still had work to do, a lot of work to do, but Ariela had dragged him out. He was grateful for her doing this. If he didn’t get a break, it was easy for him to fall into a funk. It had been a long time since he felt he was care-free, but at this moment, it was easy to pretend.

He did keep his expression neutral as he watched her, listening to her confession. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it, but he didn’t want to let her see that. When she said it, the only indication he gave that he was upset, was the way he clenched his teeth. “Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t yell or want to say harsh words and upset her. Daniel took a deep breath, making sure he was calm and rational when he spoke. 

Even though Dan wasn’t a Grimmbrook man born and bread, Edith had a feeling Madison Redding’s death had affected his life as much as anyone else’s. Shaken him to the core, even. His frustration she shared– some of it, at least. After all, she wasn’t nearly as involved in the case. “Aw Dan, thanks. And you know you’re my favorite… Guinea pig, I guess?” Edith loved to experiment and try out new recipes and in reality she rarely had people come over for conversations but her and Dan’s topics required the privacy of her home and at least good food made the whole experience less sour. “If I ever poison you… sorry, I guess?” A light shrug rolled off her shoulders as she teased him but dammit, why did he have to be so stubborn? Edith poked his forearm as if to sway his stance, furrowing her brow. “You can’t go all by yourself! What about your safety? What if something happens to you?! At least I’d be able to help or call for help. Don’t you have a… Partner or something?” There was no saying Edith wouldn’t be jealous of them, his official, real, designated partner in crime, but hey.

**

“Maybe I’ll even manage to outshine you. I might be small and a little less strong but I’m quick and creative.” She said with a wiggle of her brow as she leaned upon the car. Dark hues met his before she gave him a nod of her head. Esmeray wasn’t stupid enough to think that he’d come back trying to collect this raincheck but it was a nice thought either way. Peering up when he rose his shirt, she cleared her throat before her eyes moved back to the tire that she started to tighten by using the wrench.

The success of the store was something she banked heavily on to keep her emotionally stable that it was no longer owned by the Cohen name. If it was doing well and she had a part in that, then all was well. It was only when she wouldn’t be a major piece of the puzzle that her heart hurt a little, but today wasn’t that day and tomorrow wouldn’t be either. She had every intention of sticking around until there was no other option, regardless of how long that would be. Sure, she wanted to find herself, but it couldn’t come at the cost of losing the a tie to her mother. 

“You’re always welcome to stop by here, even if it’s just to look around. It gets real boring in here on our slow days. I could use the company,” she grinned, the playful offer something she almost wished he’d take up. He was friendly and from her experience, she enjoyed having him around. “Find me some coffee grounds and a good creamer and I just might have to do that.” Too many long nights without much sleep was starting to catch up with her. “I’d say so. I’d ask if you’ve came up with any leads yet, but I guess that’s official business.” Raya used the hand scanner to tag each item he’d gotten. His taste was quite interesting, but more so surprising than not. “As soon as that work load of yours eases up, you’ll have to start dropping by more often. It’d be a shame if you let a good deal get past you.”

Maggie gave him the same shit-eating grin that she used to give Alex as a kid right before getting them in trouble. It had been ages since she’d really felt anything more than wholly responsible and grown up. Having Daniel Mickey bring it back felt… strange. Not at all unwelcome, just a little strange. She’d expected it more from Alex or Cosette. “That’s my secret super power. I make everyone think I’m just a gym rat, but on the inside I can list the serial numbers of all the original Avenger comics.”

She sobered briefly, thinking of the earthquake and the mist and all those poor dead animals and sick people. “Given the fact we’re living in a Stephen King novel, I’d say so.”

“That’s impressive. I’m going to quiz you on that next time we see each other.” He wanted to put that knowledge to the test just to see her be nerdy in action. He was still recovering from her confession, trying to fit that image of her with the one he had. Daniel knew people didn’t fit into boxes, but he was still surprised.