#jevan

Evan padded his way through the house, rubbing his eyes, in nothing but his grey joggers. He stuttered in his steps when he heard voices in the living room. What were Barty and Regulus doing here this early? Once he registered the voices, Evan shrugged and continued to the kitchen. Except it was empty. No breakfast. No coffee pot. No James.

“No, there has to be something–” Barty’s voice drifted into the kitchen, and Evan turned around to go find out what they were doing.

Regulus and Barty were leaning over the coffee table that seemed to be covered with papers. The missing coffee pot was plugged in on the end table with a half-full carafe next to two full mugs. They seemed to be arguing about something. The Latin music drifted around them from the Bluetooth speaker by the TV.

“What are you two complaining about now?” Evan asked sleepily, taking one of the mugs and taking a sip.

“Oh, Ev. You’re here,” Regulus said, snapping his head up to look at him. 

“Well, it is my house.” He sat down in one of the armchairs. “Why are you here so early? And where’s James? He wasn’t in bed.” Barty and Regulus glanced at each other with pinched expressions. “What?”

“Ev,” Barty started slowly, taking the cup of coffee out of his hands. “You’ve been in your room for the last two days, refusing to come out and barely eating.” He glanced at Regulus, who shrugged, as if they had just had a silent conversation, then turned back to Evan and grasped both of his hands in his, squeezing tightly. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Evan looked between his two friends for any sign of what this was, but he couldn’t discern anything except the sad and confused looks on their faces. 

“He’s not dead, is he?” Evan blurted, eyes going wide, and ignoring Barty’s question. 

“No. No, James isn’t dead,” Barty said quickly, “but he’s not here either.”

“Where is he? Where is James?” It came out in a whisper, and his stomach knotted up, knowing he wasn’t going to like what Barty said next. 

“James is…” Barty took a deep breath. “Don’t freak out, but James is in jail, and I’m figuring out how to get him out,” he finished quickly. 

Evan flinched back in shock. That didn’t make sense. 

“What? What did he do? Steal a traffic cone?” Evan asked, not believing James would end up in jail.

Regulus knelt in front of him now, rubbing one of Evan’s knees. “No, Ev. James– He was arrested for–” he glanced at Barty for a second before taking a steadying breath. “For murder. On Friday. Today’s Sunday.”

Evan froze as all the memories from Friday flooded his brain. James calling him. Evan driving to the park to pick him up. Seeing him get arrested like it was any other day, and being shoved into the back of a police car. Driving to the station, demanding to know what happened. And then waking up this morning. He lost two whole days, and his husband was sitting in a jail cell on a murder charge. 

His ears were ringing, the music sounding far away. His lungs were burning from the lack of oxygen, no matter how much he tried to fill them. Someone’s hands were on his face, but he couldn’t tell who.

“–an. Evan, look at me. I need you to breathe,” Barty said, and Evan’s eyes focused on him as he tried to take a deep breath. “Good. Another. Follow me. That’s it. Just keep breathing.”

Eventually, he was able to breathe normally on his own, fresh tears falling down his cheeks. Barty wiped them away as Regulus handed him a glass of water. He took a couple of sips and straightened his back, locking his emotions away for the time being. 

Evan cleared his throat. “What have you figured out so far?” he asked, determined to bring James home, no matter the cost. 

“Honestly,” Barty spoke, sitting back on the floor. “Not a lot. I got everything the police had, but we haven’t been able to find anything that made any sense. I tried to talk to James on Friday, but he snapped at me, flipped a chair, and one of the officers had to drag him out of the room.”

“He snapped at you? That doesn’t sound like James.”

“Yeah, I know. Apparently, the only thing he had said to the detective before I showed up, demanding to see him, was that he didn’t want his barrister.” Barty turned towards Evan fully now. “I don’t know what happened with him, but apparently, there is video evidence, which I’ve watched, and it appears to look like James from a distance. They also gave me the crime scene photos, but the victim's face is blurred out, and they didn’t have a name yet.” He took a deep breath before saying the next part. “I’m so sorry, Ev, but with everything they have, it really looks like he did it. He still had the knife on him when the police arrived. But I’m going back first thing in the morning to figure everything else out.”

“I’m coming with you,” Evan stated firmly, locking eyes with Barty.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he replied quietly. “James snapped at me just for mentioning your name. I’d hate to find out what happens if he sees you before everything is sorted.”

Evan sighed, sinking back into the chair. “Fine, but you'd better tell me everything as soon as you get back.”

“I will.”