who are you? pt. 5 (reggie x reader)
pairing: reggie x reader
word count: 3.3k
plot: you dream about reggie constantly and when you see him perfoming with julie, you decide to ask her about him
warnings: death. lot of angst.
A/N: happy new year, everybody! I watched the show for the 5th time and I noticed some dahlias at Emily’s house so…… yeah, my imagination was running wild for this. Hopefully I gave you guys some answers with this chapter. Hopefully; who knows?
here's chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3 and chapter 4.
1922
The stage was huge and the curtains were embroidered with CC's. Caleb Covington. The magician everyone was talking about. He wasn't just the talk of the town, no; he was all over the newspaper in different states.
In the theater the decorations were either black or gold and the tall man standing in the center was wearing a velvet suit and sparkly shoes. His whole persona and aura were screaming for attention and validation, insinuating how narcissistic and egocentric he was. Because of that, no one could look directly at him without feeling uncomfortable and scared - that's why working for him was like hell on earth; not only because he would make insane demands like finding an enormous glass box in the middle of the night, but also because he wasn't very nice.
His four personal assistants were holding heavy chains, not very sure if that was a good idea. Everybody was tired, irritated and a little terrified, even though they would never say that out loud.
That their boss was mad. And he for sure was.
- This is bigger than us, I can feel it. People will talk about me for centuries!
Nobody dared to say a thing. They just kept doing what they were supposed to, wondering if this trick wouldn't be too much, questioning where the firefighters were. Even in rehearsals, everything had to be as safe as possible. Caleb, however, was eager to try out this escape idea, saying that the rest of the time was already on their way and that they could go ahead and start.
One of the assistants was pouring alcohol inside the box, while the other three were getting the chains tight around the magician's body. When five locks were put in place, the only thing missing was the blindfold and the fire.
- And now, let's burn. - Covington said. Against his better judgment, the assistent lit up the platform around the box, watching the dancing flames reflect on the glass. Going back to the audience, the four assistants sat there in silence, scared for their own life.
Caleb didn't wait. He got inside the box with the blindfold and no way to break the chains or open the locks. The box could only open from outside and nobody could get near it because of the fire. And the alcohol inside sure was a deadly combination too, of course. But Caleb Covington was always right, always sure about his odds.
Until he wasn't.
When the rest of the crew got to the theatre, Caleb was already inside the box, struggling to get out. He still had one minute to go and the firefighters were ready to help him out.
Covington didn't think it through; the alcohol wasn't cold and it was more flammable than he thought, so when the glass box exploded, not even the firefighters could save his life. He didn't make it to the hospital and the police couldn't really blame anyone, especially not the assistants for doing their jobs.
Caleb Covington died a horrible death, performing one of his magic tricks.
And while he was burning, he blamed others for not getting it right. He was too perfect to be mistaken, so he died thinking he would find a way to be bigger, better and eternal.
Caleb Covington died wanting revenge, eternity and power.
Still, he died.
1974
The year of 1974 was a roller coaster for Lily Peters. Her baby boy was born and the world was somehow brighter because of him. Somehow darker too.
His cute little nose brought joy to her heart and his tiny hand would hold her finger like if he were to ever let go, everything would fall apart.
The roller coaster started going down when he, in fact, did.
- Listen to me, Lily. - The man said. His tone was low and his eyes were pleading for understanding and compassion. He wanted a family, of course, but everything was so complicated. He just couldn't turn around without trying one more time. - We can move to a different city if you want. We deserve a happy life, don't you think? Together.
Lily was young. Reckless wasn't really a word to describe her; instead she was smart, passionate, dedicated and bright. Incredibly bright. So when she got home eight months prior with red eyes and shaking hands, her parents didn't comprehend the syllables she was mumbling. Sounded like the world was ending or someone died.
When "I am pregnant" left her lips, they were surprised. Both of them couldn't think of a single thing to say. Out of shock, they held her, petting her long hair and crying silently with their daughter. The tears weren't a result of a heavy heart or disappointment; the tears were based on joy, love and gratitude.
For both of them, at least. To her, not so much.
The baby boy's dad was an amazing man. He was a journalist known for being honest yet gentle. His articles and photos were always delicate and strong. He was always smiling, always being nice to strangers, always believing in something, in someone. He was also a dreamer; a very realistic one, for that matter. He would dream with his head up in the sky and feet on the ground.
It was hard for him wrapping his head around what Lily was saying. Maybe it was because he was older than her, but he just couldn't see things from her point of view.
- I've made up my mind. - Lily said. She kept going down and down, afraid she wasn't going to see the light again. Her decision was a blind intent to make the roller coaster to up again. - I can't keep him.
Her parents were strongly against the idea of giving the baby away. None of Lily's friends knew about the pregnancy, so there was nobody else to beg her to see things clearly. She could stay in college and still be a mom; she could have a beautiful life with her beautiful son and be happy. There was no reason to fear what other people would say; her son's presence could cure her heavy heart of any nasty remark or malicious look.
Lily was young and she made a bad choice; one that she would regret forever. But no one could blame her for not knowing better until she knew better.
- Well, I can. - The man replied. He was crying, holding his son carefully and wondering how could anyone give up on him. - I am going to keep him and be a great father to our son. He's going to be an amazing person and I'm sorry that you won't be there to see it.
It wasn't an easy decision. 1974 was the year of California Jam, when people could be audacious and careless in a crowd, but scared and small inside of their own houses. Lily was feeling overwhelmed by the responsibilities of parenthood, of her own being and all the life she would have to forget. She wasn't ready, but her son couldn't wait.
- Lily, darling, are you sure? - Her parents were merely observers. They wanted their grandson around, they wanted to see him growing up, going to school and smiling. They wanted everything they could get, but it was Lily's choice and being a parent didn't give them the right to make choices for their daughter. - Is this the right decision?
The words couldn't come out, so she just nodded. The sad journalist nodded too, understanding that he was now on his own. Well, at least he wasn't alone and his soul was satisfied with his decision: he could never say that he abandoned his own child. That's something he would never forgive himself for.
The baby didn't wake up with the comotion and Lily thanked the heavens for it. If she saw his pretty green eyes she would've turned around and begged them to stay.
Ray instinctively smiled at his mom for the first and last time, still in his sleep. Lily cried when both of them left the house, wondering if she was right.
- We're going to be fine, Ray Molina. - The man whispered to his son, kissing his forehead. - You are the love of my life.
1993
- Hi. Do you have a name or can I call you mine? - Reggie's friends started laughing, embarrassed by his lack of filter. They didn't understand that their friend's words were natural, almost like an instint. Reggie didn't feel that intense connection with anyone there at the book club; let alone with someone he never met before. - Maybe I went too far with that one. I think I have the right to remain silent.
There he was again, using humor to hide things.
Reginald Peters was a scaredy cat with a very believable mask: funny remarks and the I-am-stupid façade. His personality was joyful and light, used to hide all the years his mom mistreated him and his dad ignored his existence. Reggie knew he was born to save their marriage, but it was doomed a long time ago, with no saving at all. The boy grew up with no sense of hope for romantic love and no understanding of self preservation.
And none of that was his fault; his longing for parental support or the lack of ambition in his educational life. Reggie had no one to appreciate him, to build him up, to be there for him unconditionally. That is until Luke and Alex showed up.
And then Ethan.
- Reggie, you have the right to remain silent. What you lack is capacity. - Alex said, making Luke laugh even louder.
People started asking them to keep it quiet, to what both of them complied easily - they loved the snacks there. The boys went back inside to grab something to eat while Reggie and Ethan stood there in the backyard, looking at each other, trying to understand their feelings.
It wasn't something measurable or understandable. No one could explain the feeling of coming back home that they felt when their eyes met.
They were both speechless.
Reggie and Ethan were admiring each other's details. The bridge of their nose, their eyebrows, the way their hair would flow with the wind, their freckles; everything that met the eye. Still, they couldn't pinpoint what it was.
- Hey. - Ethan replied, holding out his hand. Reggie looked into Ethan's eyes, then his lips and only then took his hand in his. Time seemed to stop around them. - I guess you do have a name, Reggie, but can I call you mine?
Ethan liked metaphors, so if he were asked to describe that moment, he would've said that it felt like lying down in his bed after a long summer away from home. It was comfortable, safe, heartwarming, relaxing. Great. And Reggie would've nodded his head, agreeing with the comparison.
Coming back to each other after lifetimes away was refreshing. Living away from each other was cruel and all the hardships were long forgotten with a simple touch.
Hand in hand, Ethan smiled at Reggie, wondering how long it's been.
It was just one lifetime, but it felt like forever.
1994
- This. You and I. - Ethan said, turning to face Reggie, who looked perplexed. Ethan falted, thinking he read the whole picture wrong. - My parents would kill me.
Reginald opened his mouth a few times, as if trying to justify himself.
- Ethan, what are you talking about? - Reggie asked with a scoff. The façade was up again, blending in with the boy's features just well. - We're only friends. I like girls. I flirt a lot, sure, but it's all a joke.
A joke.
The worst part about the "we're only friends" card is the "only" part. It was like their friendship was insignificant or insufficient; seemed like the "just friends" made each other smaller. They had the potential to be more, to take up more space in each other's life, to hold a more special value in his heart, but "just friends" limited Ethan from achieving what he really wanted.
"Just friends" sounded like "I'm by your side, but I'm not relevant enough'’ to Ethan.
- I'm sorry. I have to go. - A heartbroken Ethan said.
Ethan shouldn't be sorry - that was the first thing Reggie thought after he left. Ethan should be there, with him, holding his hand and maybe hearing a new song they were working on. Yet Reginald couldn't move, almost like his feet were glued to the ground. Above the loud music, he could hear the clock on the wall, ticking mercilessly telling him he missed his chance to let his stars, his path collide with Ethan's. Above the loud music, he felt stuck in time, not getting older, further away from paradise.
"Now or never" quickly turned into "maybe next life" to him.
1995
Death was about the living.
Death was about who stayed on Earth, wondering about the words they didn't speak and about the food they didn't taste in the company of the deceased. Death was a silence that people shared because they were told so and because they had no special powers to change it.
Death was a cry of mourning from the living, a closed coffin, the ashes thrown from a beautiful hill that the deceased could never see or that they loved very much; a dream or a memory. Death was a watch that forgot to keep running, a battery that no longer fed anything, a pause.
Death was about who wasn't dead.
Death was about many people who would feel affected by absence. Family, friends, strangers who would question their own existence because of someone's obituary.
Death was, indeed, about the living.
In that case, about Rose, Bobby and the boys' families.
About how Luke's parents almost didn't attend the funeral. Their broken heart was physically hurting them and leaving the house was hard. They kept waiting for their son's return, choosing to ignore the fact that was dead. Emily and Mitch Patterson stayed by the door, imagining their son's figure coming back home. That never happened.
About how Lisa and Jarred Mercer, Alex's mom and dad, didn't cry. They stared at their son's picture in silence. People came and went, saying they would pray for comfort, but it was just empty. Everything was empty; the words, their bodies, their soul. Losing a son shouldn't happen. It was in the unsaid manual of life: parents should go first. Burying a child was an ache no body should ever feel. The literal body really, considering how physical the pain could be. Alex's parents, for instance, couldn't eat for days. They couldn't sleep or smile. Breathing was painful, remembering was even worse.
About how Reginald's father was drunk while the priest prayed. He stayed away from everybody, just tripping on his own feet and murmuring "I'm sorry". He wasn't talking about Reggie - he was thinking about Lily, his wife, and how she didn't care about their son. He was apologizing for losing all their money, for gambling, for not being a good husband. He cried too, but his father's angry voice screaming "don't cry, you're a man" echoed in his mind soon enough. He left before anybody could see him.
About how Rose visited Emily and Mitch many times, always taking Dahlias, her favorite flower, to them. She would just make sure they ate, talk a little bit about life and play chess with Mitch. She won a few times. Alex's parents were too stubborn to accept her consolation in the form of company, but she didn't give up. After a few cookies and a few letters making sure they were alright, she got invited for dinner. She took Bobby with her and they talked about Alex like they had known each other for the longest time. His parents had many regrets and it pained Rose to see it, so she reassured them, from a daughter's perspective, that Alex loved them with all his heart. When she went to college, they lost contact, but the great memories lingered and that helped both families. That's how Rose found her love for social work and the house she wanted to live in the future: someday she wanted to buy Alex's house.
Death was about how Bobby tried helping Reggie's parents. He looked for them everywhere, but they moved out of town. Bobby even went to Lily's work - nobody knew about her. All his strength was dedicated to honor his friends and their music, so when he didn't find Reginald's parents, he decided to be famous and let them come to him. He worked day and night, finishing the songs, working multiple shifts to get money for a demo and doing his best to be more social. He needed connections, luck and money to make his plan of honoring his friends work. All he had was determination and he hoped that could be a start.
Death was about all that and many lives affected by the loss of Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer and Luke Patterson.
2002
The baby cried with such intensity and still his parents were never more delighted by any sound they've ever heard.
- Welcome to the world, Richie.
2018
The clouds were matching Lucas' humor: grumpy, dark and bothered.
He wanted to go back to the cafe, to explain his situation to Jarred and Lisa, but his guitar was stolen and his face was still bruised from his last fight. He couldn't just show up and act like everything was alright like he would usually do.
Living in the streets was easier than staying in the system. The houses he had been to, the families that treated him like a piece of salvation just like the catholic church and indulgences… he was done with that. At least he was trying to make sure he could live freely; as free as a homeless teenager could be.
He was in a park somewhere when the rain started pouring. At first it was shy. In a matter of seconds, the sky was falling down and Lucas was laughing at his luck. No guitar, no family, no food, no place to go. Lonely, cold and irritated, he started singing as loud as he could. No one was nearby and the world was his.
There was so much anger in his throat that it pained the boy a little. He was mad, sad and even confused to why he couldn't just fit in. Find a family, have a house, go to school and have friends. The closest thing he had was Richie - the cheerful boy made him feel at ease for the first time in years. They connected instantly, playing together at Alex's Foundation for musicians/people that liked music.
He wouldn't call everybody there musicians; some people were terrible singers.
Lucas missed Richie so much. Even though the boy didn't know about his housing situation, he'd always be selfless and give him food. There was one time Richie even gave Lucas his jacket, because, according to Richie, Lucas looked cold. The boy was the brother Lucas wanted, the person worth smiling at, the best friend.
After a while, the sky stopped crying and Lucas went to his usual spot, close to a 24 hour diner. Sometimes the waiter would be nice enough to give him bread or fries. He never expected anything though; he would just sit and wait. Wait for life, for salvation, for hope, for someone.
That night Lucas found Richie, Rose and death.
After the rain, life would never be the same.
