take you down;

      The night air is a welcomed relief from the stuffy town hall. He fills his lungs with it and sighs as he lets the air out. He really did hate social situations such as that, everyone crowded into one space, unable to turn a corner without bumping into old high school teachers or the old people you use to prank in your youth. It’s like a cocktail for a blow up and thankfully Red did, so every bit of attention went on that situation and nowhere else.

“Oh shit, yeah.” Patch feels bad for forgetting Juliette’s situation but decides to shove that down. “Lemme know when you’re down to listen to some more artists, I’ve got an old tape player that I can lend you and give you some music to listen to. Heard of The Smiths yet? Oh, and Dolly Parton, gotta listen to Dolly.” Patch shrugs at the question. “Depends who you ask. But I like the sound from records, that sorta static noise when the needle first meets the grooves and then the music kicks in. It’s kinda calming. I also listen to tapes, CD’s, Spotify. Just anything really.”

She’s super interested, actually. Most of her recommendations come from when she plays therapist to the others who lived underground with her. She likes to derail the conversations so they don’t dwell on bad things just before the hang up - she wants to leave each interaction on a high note. Every time someone offers a recommendation she gets excited, many don’t realize that she considers things like that as a gift. 

Mason was quick, yet again, to respond. She knew she she ought to play it cool, not seem like she was coming on too strong, but her excitement simply would not allow her. And besides, Mason had never understood ‘playing hard to get’ in regards to romances or even friendships. If she liked a person, they sure as hell would know. 

She let Juliette know that she was good for tomorrow and then shut her laptop. Fortunately, the rest of the day went by quickly for Mason. After leaving the recreation grounds, she had a couple of hours before work which she designated to combing through her Josie evidence, hoping something new would jump out at her. No such luck. The topic of Josie’s investigation had become something of a stagnant topic on her radio show, simply because there wasn’t anything new to report. Of course, plenty of people had written in to share their mostly ludicrous theories, but Mason had already received a bunch of flack for airing the cannibal cult one and she’d – to an extent – taken that criticism to heart.

The sun had well risen by the time Mason rolled out of bed. That wasn’t unusual for her. What was, though, was that she was awake before twelve P.M. Mason didn’t get back to her motel until about six thirty that morning and had gotten a solid four hours of sleep before slipping out of bed to make some instant coffee. Mason wasn’t one who needed much sleep to operate and, frankly, she didn’t need much caffeine that morning either. She was well hyped at seeing Juliette. 

Mason walked to the roller rink. It was kind of a far walk as the rink sat at the edge of town, but she didn’t mind. The weather was mild and it gave her time to think. While usually she ruminated on the cases she was working on, this time around she found herself thinking about all the friends she had in Wade, Juliette among them. Had she really made a little life for herself here in this strange town? She guessed she had, which was the strangest thing of all. 

She pushed open the doors to the rink, immediately greeted with the smell of popcorn and nacho cheese and disco bumping out of the speakers. Juliette was by the snack bar, which was where Mason deduced she’d be from her emails. Was it weird for her to be a little starstruck? Absolutely, Mason concluded, but she didn’t wipe the genuine smile from her face as she approached her. “Hi, Juliette,” she said, “It’s Mason from, uh, the emails. It’s crazy to actually be meeting you. Crazy in a good way, of course.” 

The skating rink was as empty as it ever was on a weekday afternoon. Juliette had been there for hours, going back on her promise of a few days off by reorganizing the snack bar. When she was at the rink, she couldn’t help but work on things that needed fixing. Most of the employees had already branded the place a lost cause, but Juliette couldn’t bring herself to do the same just yet. She thought there was hope there, somewhere. 

She’d spent hours on that. Her body had never really grown out of waking up at nine AM after she came topside. The bunker’s strict rules had extended to their waking and sleeping hours, and everyone was out of bed at nine AM sharp. Juliette hadn’t slept in since she was a child, probably. Her body snapped awake at nine no matter what happened, it was just how it was. 

And that’s how she lost herself into thoughts of the bunker. How different her life was now that she was topside. Pulling her smartphone out, she sends a text to the group chat filled with the others who wanted to keep in contact, writing out, “Does anyone else still wake up at nine in the morning every day?” and returning it to her pocket to focus on the snack bar once again. 

Her therapist told her that it’s okay - little things can trigger spirals, and that’s okay. She just has to step back and recognize that. While she’s not one-hundred percent sure she believes that she’ll have to try her best. She’s got someone important to meet this afternoon. Mason’s meant to arrive soon, and so she finishes the snack bar’s reorganization as quick as she can and springs up. 

      A little chuckle escapes Patch at the mention of a fake phone call and he shakes his head in somewhat of a fond manner. He has done the same on a variety of occasions. So much so his parents no longer believe him and he’s forced to sit through awkward family time. He makes a note to update his exit strategies. Though last week he did escape through the kitchen window. 

“I’m you’re night in dressing gown armour.” He flips aforementioned item of clothing so it bellows behind him. Patch will need a significant amount of alcohol before approaching any stage to perform but the flask he’s holding should help him get there. He scoffs at the mention of knowing Queen. “Do I know Queen? I have like four of their records somewhere in my apartment. Also Bohemian Rhapsody always knocks everyone into a dramatic sing-off.” He turns his gaze around him to see if anyone who might stop their departure isn’t preoccupied. Deciding it’s safe to move, he heads for the exit as he takes a swig from his flask. 

“You’re one hell of a knight,” she states, looking Patch up and down with a smile on her face. He wasn’t the exact things he imagined when she thought of that phrase, but it fit him, weirdly. She couldn’t pinpoint it. Juliette gestures towards the door, and follows him out towards the exit. The night air is just a bit chilled, and she breathes in slowly, like she often does. She honestly can’t believe she’s here - for two decades she believed everything was gone completely. It’s strange, to just be out and about - free to do whatever she likes. 

DJ stood there, arms crossed and eyes glued to the whole situation. It felt like it was going by in slow motion, up until Red stormed out. And then, it felt like everything happened all at once. A sharp sigh escaped through DJ’s nostrils. A lot could have made DJ regret coming out of her bedroom that day. An offhanded comment about how she threw her life away by coming back to Wade, a look or two filled to the brim with raw judgment, too many people, too many noises… The list felt endless. 

A familiar voice snapped her out of it. Clearing her throat, DJ then looked at Juliette and let a smile appear on her lips, matching the other’s. “Juliette, hey,” she began, nodding her head, “thank you.” DJ took the glass. She was glad the person that had decided to talk to her was more than a familiar face —- even if that meant there was a possibility Juliette was just another person she had disappointed. 

“Yeah,” DJ said after she let out a humorless laugh, “can’t say I’m not surprised, though. I can’t imagine how frustrated Red must be. I’m just glad it didn’t escalate, though it would probably mean something would be done about helping Red and Josie.”

“It’s great to see you,” Juliette begins. It’s been weird not having her friend around. Juliette isn’t used to people leaving just yet. After everything, you’d think that she would know that people just have to move on sometimes, but... She doesn’t know - she’s not too great at facing the truth of the matters. “How have you been?” 

She paused, bending towards the floor and picking up a small piece of glass that must have skittered over towards them after the table was flipped. She’s been helping clean up as much as she can, her heart going out to Red and everything he’s dealing with. 

To say that Mason actually cheered aloud upon reading Juliette’s request would’ve been an understatement. Whatever unadulterated sound of glee escaped her lips frightened the elderly couple that was passing her on their walk through the grounds.

“Sorry! Sorry… I’m sorry,” she said, and genuinely meant it. 

They looked like they were well into their eighties, this couple. It was quite possible that a slight scare could give them a life-ending heart attack. Mason turned back to her computer screen, slamming out a reply on the keyboard. She didn’t bother playing it cool when she got to answering Juliette’s polite invitation:

“There is absolutely – no hyperbole – nothing I would love more. You just name the time and I’ll be there. All my love, Mason.” 

Despite Mason’s enjoyment of their digital correspondence, she had undoubtedly been waiting for an invite like this. She wanted the other woman to be the one to ask it and not the other way around. Though she was worried about crossing the line with Juliette, more than she was with most people, it really went beyond that. For the other woman to ask her to come roller skating meant that she thought they were friends. Mason had meet a lot of really interesting people on her travels but none that she liked more than Juliette. She’s not exactly sure why that is, other than the obvious reason being that the older woman was a pleasant person to talk to. She was kind and humble and funny. She was a survivor. 

It took Mason some time to realize that what she and Juliette had was something she rarely got to experience in her line of work. Usually the people she was familiarizing herself with were dead or long missing. There was only a certain level of ‘knowing’ Mason could achieve with them. But with Juliette it was different. And that was special.  

Juliette’s barely had a moment to sip her tea before Mason replied. She was excited, it seemed, as well. And Juliette had learned how to glean that from a message on a keyboard fairly recently. Computers didn’t come easy to her, that’s why she much preferred email at the moment - to help her learn how to understand them.

She’d avoided a lot of modern technology after her move topside, still bitter at what Schr- her captor, she has to stop giving power to his name - had hidden from them the entire time he was underground.

He could have just said god gave him the tech, they would have probably believed him.

She begins to type a reply before she can decide if there’s been an appropriate passage of time, or perhaps she’s just uncaring of it. Mason is a friend, a friend who she’s not afraid of rejection from. She has never been intrusive or rude, and Juliette has no reason to think this meeting will be cancelled over a too-quick email. Yet, she still worries about the little things like that.

Some, like her younger sister who resides in Minnesota now, say her grammar over email is too formal. But Juliette likes coming off as polite, so she’s refused to change it.

“Dear Mason,

I am so happy to hear that! As you know, refurbishing the snack bar at the roller rink has taken a lot of my time up lately. I’ve decided to take a few days off in the meantime, which means that I am available for two entire days to meet up with you!

Tomorrow and Thursday are the two days I am taking off completely for the R&R (apparently this is a shortening of “Rest and Relaxation” - who knew there were so many little codes for phrases!) so any time you are free these next two days, let me know!

If not, I’m sure we can work around your schedule - I’m sure you’re just as busy as the rest of the town after the Spring Celebration!

     Patch seeks out sweet relief by swigging from his flask but finds the entire thing empty. That’s usually his cue to leave. He had arrived late but not late enough to miss the kerfuffle and plans to leave early enough that he misses out on another one. Any sort of social gathering is not Patch’s forte, though upon seeing a familiar face, an idea comes to mind.

And just in time too as one of the locals is moving in and he has no desire to pretend to engage in small talk. Damn, he misses his shitty apartment and his damn cat right now. Moving quickly, making sure not to make eye contact with anyone he passes he finally reaches Juliette. “Okay, hear me out- we-” He gestures between them both. “Blow this popsicle stand and find some place revving up the karaoke?” @julicttes​

Juliette had already grown tired of this event. Every single person just wanted to talk about the awful thing that had just happened. Juliette, ever the optimist, wanted to avoid the topic entirely and let Red have that little bit of dignity, but no one else seemed to care. And so, she was sulking as far away from the crowd of people that had formed towards the center of the room. She simply stood in the corner and looked at her phone and hoped that she could find an excuse to leave soon. And she was about to make up a phone call when Patch approached. 

“Are you... new? At the gym?” The question is redundant. Juliette held on to a membership at the local gym for when it was too cold to ride her bike around town, or too rainy. She was always happy to talk with the people who worked there, too. No one ever treated her strangely (except the one kid who faked her kidnapping) while she was there, so. She knew most of the people there, and she didn’t know this guy, “I mean, you have to be. I’m there all the time and I’ve never seen you before?” 

She gives him another look, “Oh! Sorry, where are my manners, I’m Juliette Spencer.” She offers up her hand to shake with a grin. 

Juliette didn’t really like talking behind people’s backs, but... There really wasn’t much else to bring up. She had grabbed a few glasses of punch and went off to find someone she knew. And that had led her to DJ’s side. It was only polite that she bring some sort of gift to a social situation. At least, that’s what her random books on how to ingrain yourself back into society said. 

“Want some punch?” Juliette offers up the glass with a smile that feels forced in the situation. But at least she’s not alone in her awkwardness, the whole room seems to be buzzing with the nerves of witnessing something private. Plus, Red never got like that. Not even with Josie went missing, he wasn’t the type of guy who flipped tables before. And now, Juliette was going to have to bake him another casserole, because that’s what you do when people experience loss (another thing she learned from the books). 

Really, she shouldn’t be eavesdropping on the people around her. But, when everyone is talking about the same thing: it was hard not to tune in to a conversation or two. Juliette usually preferred playing the wallflower at events like these, just trying to avoid any kind of limelight she could. She’s so drawn in to hearing the soccer moms discuss their thoughts on Red’s outburst that she doesn’t notice the others around her. She’s just been standing right in front of the punch bowl for over ten minutes. 

Juliette snaps out of it, and steps out of the way, exclaiming, “Sorry!” to the person behind her. 

When she looks back at the women, one of them makes eye contact, and she has to make a hasty retreat, because her story will be the next topic of conversation. She doesn’t want to know what Frances or Claire think about her own nightmares. 

     “ she said one day to leave her, sand up to her shoulders                 w a i t i n g                                        for                                                      the                                                                      tide…                           to drag her to the ocean, to another sea’s shore.                                            this thing HURTS like HELL…

                                                        BUT WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?”

@julicttes

date: april 14th time: 1:43 location: wade’s recreation center, the grounds 

One of the best parts about living in Wade, Mason decided, was that nobody knew how to protect their wifi. She attributed this to the fact that a majority of the residents were over the age of fifty (technologically illiterate) or under the age of twenty-five (didn’t give a shit), but regardless, she counted it as a personal win. That meant she could do her work practically anywhere in Wade, even if the location didn’t appear to have public wifi. If there was one thing Mason knew, perhaps better than most, it’s that things aren’t always what they initially appear.

Mason was by no means a ‘computer whiz,’ but she knew enough to get by. And at the moment, she was getting by at Wade’s recreation center, where she had found a shady spot under a large oak to set up shop. ‘Shop,’ of course, meant her laptop and the pre-packaged sandwich she bought for lunch from the Quick Stop. Mason was currently using a one Mrs Joanie Garcia’s personal network, who she imagined must live in the residential area not too far from the Recreation Center. Mason made a mental note to send Mrs. G a bouquet of peonies or something as a thank you. Anonymously, of course. 

She opened up her Gmail. 

For the past month and a half, Mason had been in correspondence with who she considered to be the most interesting woman in the world. Juliette Spencer. How this correspondence began was beyond baffling to her, even now. Around the time Mason first arrived in Wade, she had requested on her blog that if anybody had ties to or relevant information on the Juliette Spencer case (which she, unsurprisingly, was looking into) they ought get in touch with her via email. Of course, the last person she expected to reach out was Juliette Spencer herself. That was how it started. 

Mason realized it was possible for them to meet in person, but there was something so charming and analog about this chosen method of conversation, as though they were sending each other long quill-written letters across seas. Plainly, it was fun and Mason didn’t want to ruin it. She didn’t even attempt to spot Juliette amidst the crowd at the Spring Celebration, though she knew what she looked like. Everybody in Wade did. Her picture had been plastered all over the paper and on the news channels. 

Mason began to type out a response to Juliette’s most recent email. One hand on the keyboard and the other holding her ham and cheese sandwich. “Omg were you at the Spring Celebration?? Some pretty wild stuff went down. Granted, that was my very first Spring Celebration in Wade but I can’t imagine they’re usually that exciting. Anyway, I hope you’re doing well.” Realizing how inefficient it was to type with just one hand, she took a big bite of sandwich and sat it back in its package. She carried on, “I just thought of something funny I wanted to share with you. You already know that I was interested in your case but before you emailed me I used to go visit the tombstone they erected for you, idk, just to think on the case. This shouldn’t surprise you. You already know what I’m like as a person lol. Anyway, I had actually been at the graveyard that day when I checked my email and saw a message from somebody named Juliette Spencer. Obvi the rational side of me thought it must be a hoax, but I kid you not dude… for the first couple emails we exchanged I thought I might be talking to a ghost. lmao I know how that sounds. I guess that’s just what happens when you spend too much time in graveyards. Thought you might find that anecdote amusing. Hope you’re taking care of yourself. All my love, Mason.” 

The tiny version of the Titanic slowly sunk into the teacup and Juliette delighted in watching it go. The tiny tea infuser had been a gift from one of her sisters, for her birthday this year. Juliette had been obsessed with the little ship ever since. She’d constantly hum Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On” as it sank. It was nice to know that she wasn’t forgotten by her siblings, even though all everyone wanted to do was move on from their time together. 

She took a sip before she opened up the laptop. She had things to do today. There was a few requests for her to speak to other cult survivors, someone asking (frankly, very intrusive) questions about her time underground and her invalid marriage, and then there’s a reply from Mason. One that she’s been waiting on since the Spring Celebration ended. 

She sips her tea and reads over the words with a smile. It’s nice to speak to someone who’s not 100% focused on getting whichever sound bites they want out of her for their story. Mason, unlike many other true crime writers and podcasters, seems to care. She doesn’t seem to want to hurt the survivors who are dealing with their own troubles in a world that often keeps re-traumatizing them (that phrase is one she learned at a conference she was invited to speak at in Chicago). 

 She turns to open up her blinds and watch the cars go by out of the corner of her eye, and writes back. 

“Dear Mason, 

The Spring Celebration was a great event again this year. I think, even with the interruption (poor Red), it was still a successful community event! I definitely had fun! They definitely don’t usually carry this much excitement. I hate that we didn’t run into each other, but I had to head home early to answer a call. And I’m doing great, I hope you are well! 

I have to admit that I also have spent a lot of time at my own gravestone. I know it’s morbid, but I find a lot of comfort in knowing that I didn’t actually meet that terrible fate. I am definitely not a ghost, though a lot of people said I was as pale as one when I first came topside! I didn’t really like that joke at the time but in hindsight, I definitely needed some sun.

I was thinking that maybe, if you’re available this week, you might want to meet up with me? I’ve been spending an extended amount of time working at the roller rink fixing things up lately, and I thought it might be fun to go skating instead of just working. If not, though, I understand! 

Juliette was a little shaken by the show that had just played out in front of her. She had yet to get used to the tradition that topsiders (a stupid name she’d given those not in the bunker, instead of “regular people” as she’d gone with before) had where they were willing to put all their emotions on display in front of a crowd. Juliette tended to keep herself guarded, only showing positives ones to those around her. It made life a much easier pill to swallow.

She wanders towards the mess that was left in the wake of the flipped table and begins helping pick things up, an innate reaction to seeing mess anywhere in life. The people wave her off, thanking her for her help picking up, and she wanders over towards the corner of the room, where she finds Nate. 

The television can be turned on quietly in the bunker, and Juliette spent a lot of her time down there watching movies from the late 80s and early 90s, mainly romantic comedies. Before her marriage, she’d imagined herself getting that moment of things just clicking and falling in love. That was all crushed when she was forced into her marriage with Elijah. But now that she’s topside and able to meet people that weren’t kidnapped at the same time as her, she’s come back to that idea. She dreams of falling into some grand romance and getting a perfect love story to tell her grandchildren. Even the tragedy of her life couldn’t crush that. 

The memories fade every day that she isn’t near the bunker. Some days, she forgets Elijah’s name. It’s nice, to be able to block out some of the worst parts. It’s nice to feel like she can gain things back. She wants nothing more than to go back and not be taken, but Juliette knows she can’t dwell on it for long or she’ll get lost. She pushes through. But then she’ll break down in the grocery store because a man looked just a bit like her captor, and it begins again. She remembers it all. It’s a cycle, one that will probably haunt her until she dies. 

She longs for the things she never had, like a childhood. Maybe that’s why she bought into the old roller rink. Her plans to move on had stuck her in the past once again, buying into a run down skating rink and trying to turn it around with some of her settlement money. It made her happy, though, and sometimes Juliette did things that just made her happy for the hell of it. 

She stopped praying the day she went topside. And she hasn’t done it since. Sometimes, she’ll find herself on her knees in her own bedroom and she’ll have to move herself off the floor and into bed. God didn’t help her then, when she was held underground with his name wielded by a madman who wanted to hurt them. God wouldn’t help her now. She had to do all of it herself. 

                                                                              juliette spencer. 

                                   co-owner of roller magic.

hi i’m ferb and here’s little babie juliette. she’s basically everything that’s good in this world with a dash of extreme trauma through most of her life jfalksdjf. ANYWAYS, i love her and i hope you also love her because i need a lot of plots 2 survive and she needs human interaction - she doesn’t handle being along well at all. also before we get started, under the cut and in the links there’s a few trigger warnings: kidnapping, child abuse, spousal abuse & cults in general.

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