But even through the pain, Chase found his eyes starting to slip closed. He tried chugging water, eating sugary foods, but the minutes started to drag on as he fought to stay awake. Henrik noticed and sent Chase to bed. Of course, Chase argued back, saying he needed to stand guard for Jackie’s and Jameson’s sake.

Henrik finally offered back, “Leave them to me. I’m going to be sleeping down here tonight anyway.”

“Ha! That’s rich!” Chase scoffed a little too loud, drawing Jackie’s attention. Henrik closed the door. Trying to make it more private? As if Jackie didn’t deserve to hear what was happening to his tormentor?

“Look, they both need to be monitored. I’d rather be steps away from my patients than have to trek the entire house to get down here.” Henrik was being quiet. Chase wouldn’t be.

“But you can’t guarantee that Cat won’t wake up! What if he wakes and tries to strangle Jackie while you’re asleep!”

“Chase! He’s sedated!” Henrik picked up Cat’s arm and then dropped it. It flopped on his chest and rested there. “He’s not going to wake up during the night! Do you not have any faith in me to do my job?”

Chase nearly smiled at that. “When it comes to people with powers, no. I don’t.” It felt sinisterly satisfying to watch Henrik try and contain the rage inside of him. But that came to a short end when Henrik grabbed Chase by the arm, opened the med office door and started dragging him up the stairs. Chase’s feet marched along to prevent himself from slipping on the ground. And although he tried to grab and loosen Henrik’s hand, the man had a grip of steel that wouldn’t be released by outside forces.

Reaching Chase’s room, Henrik flung open the door and threw Chase in there. It was a miracle Chase was still standing after nearly losing his balance. “You don’t trust me with them? Fine. But you are as human as they come Chase Brody. And as your doctor, I am ordering you bed rest because of the injuries you have sustained today. And if you don’t abide willingly, I will sedate you.” Henrik’s rage wasn’t funny anymore. But Chase never did like to show the doctor that he was intimidated by him.

“Do your fucking job of protecting our family, and I will.”

Instead of another round of berament, Henrik grabbed the door handle and slammed the door shut. Chase could have sworn he heard some wood splinters, but that didn’t matter. Effectively confined to his room, Chase blindly moved around until he could flop onto his bed. The clock read 10:30. He shouldn’t be tired now. But then again, maybe it was the pain meds or the actual beating he’d taken. 

And then it dawned on him. Henrik needed to sleep too. And if the “good doctor” was anything, it was predictable. He’d be alert and waiting for Chase to come down during the first hour, maybe the first two if he was really bad. But, at some point, even Henrik would go to sleep. And he’d have an alarm to wake him up every hour on the hour.

If he wasn’t going to readminister the sedative, it would be wearing off soon. Anytime after 1 am would be a good time to expose that Cat was actually just lying in wait. Or, even better, a time when Chase could confront him about their sweet Jameson and not have anyone hold him back.

Albeit, Chase did pause at the thought of hitting Cat again. If Jackie hadn’t stepped in, he wasn’t sure what Cat would do to him. But maybe if he just kept badgering, kept at it, not entertaining any mind games, Cat would crack. He’d finally prove that he was useful.

 Chase set his phone’s alarm to wake him up at 1:20. With any luck, Henrik would have finished his check-ups and tried to get back to sleep by then.

It was 1:25 by the time he managed to gain the mental capacity to roll out of bed and get on his feet. Making every step careful and deliberate, he worked his way to the top of the stairs and slowly descended. Peaking below the ceiling, he saw Henrik in the armchair. Moving a bit quicker, he rushed over to the medical office. With the greatest care, Chase slowly turned the door knob and pushed open the door, careful of its creaks, and closed it again, making sure to hear the click before he let himself breathe again.

Even though the window only allowed dim moonlight into the room, it was good enough light to see what he needed and keep his mission stealthy. “Hey,” Chase whispered yelled in Cat’s ear. Nothing. “Hey!” a bit louder this time. Still nothing. Chase grabbed him by the shoulders and started shaking until then man finally roused from unconsciousness.

Unlike a cat, his eyes didn’t glow in the dark. Nothing like what Chase had seen the first night he encountered this man. But he could still see when the man in front of him opened his eyes. See the recognition that it was Chase in front of him. And the bitter turn as he fully returned to his senses. “What do you want?” his voice was low and still full of sleep.

“Where’s Jameson?” Chase returned in kind, malice dripping from his voice. He wasn’t leaving without an answer. But even though it registered, Cat just bided his time, sitting up so he was now taller than Chase by a few inches. “Where are you keeping him, you filthy scum?” Chase repeated himself, feeling heat start to burn at his cheeks.

It took a full minute of Chase just steaming there before Cat would give him anything. “What does it feel like?

“What?” Chase spat out, both confused at the question and annoyed that he was evading his own.

“To know you’ve failed them. Failed all of them.”

“Shut up.”

“Couldn’t keep Jameson safe...”

“Stop it.”

“Actually started to believe that Jackie was mad...”

“It’s your fault.”

“Couldn’t even manage to hold on to your two precious girls.” Before Chase could stop himself, he’d already thrown his fist at Cat’s face. He hit him hard too. Good.

“Don’t you DARE, say their names,” Chase breathed out, trying to find enough control to not beat him senseless.

Cat chuckled a little, placing a hand over his fresh injury site. Wiped his nose before starting to ramble on. “You’re still just as powerless as before.”

“Shut up!” Chase could feel himself losing it, his hands tightening. He closed his eyes, tried to take a few breaths, and stepped back. He opened and tried to keep an even, steady, low tone. “You know where he is. I can still save him.”

“And if you don’t save him? What then? You gonna hit me some more? Put me within an inch of my life? Think that’ll make it all better?” Chase wanted to yell at him. He just didn’t know what to say. “Do you think your brothers, do you think Jackie, will still love you after you do something like that?”

“My brothers will always love me, unlike you, you venomous snake.”

“They sure have a funny way of showing it then. Always berating you, belittling you, babying you because they don’t think you can be left alone.”

“Jameson never...”

“So even if you do manage to get Jameson back, they will still always be your enemies. And if you don’t, and show them your true side, well, you’ll be all but dead to them. Unless, of course, you actually do decide to be dead.”

“Shut up!”

“Maybe I’ve already poisoned Henrik. Maybe when you fail to get Jameson back you’ll kill me. Henrik will turn on you, and Jackie, your sweet protector will be the only one left. But even he will leave you too. After all, it is your fault Jameson’s gone.

“You’re the one that took him!”

“You’re the one that left him alone. Didn’t listen to your brother and stay put, and now he may wind up dead. At least with your two girls you could claim that it wasn’t your fault, that you had no idea it would happen. But with Jameson, that guilt compounded with your grief. I can’t imagine you’ll last one night after that. Oh, and, go for a gun next time. You will truly have nothing left, so why leave yourself open for the cruel possibility of hope someone will save you again.”

His heart was a pit of black. There was a scalpel on the counter. And in a second, the scalpel was in his hand and the blade pressed against Cat’s neck. Chase couldn’t talk. His throat was all choked up and all he could muster were slow breathes. He scowled at Cat. Because how dare he presume everything, try and take his family away.

Cat didn’t say anything back. Just lifted his head up so he could look Chase in the eyes. There was no fear in them. They were just... cold. And Chase tried to press further, actually spill a bit of blood, but then his body started trembling and his mind started crying and his throat was spasming.

And even though this evil man deserved to suffer, Chase pulled away, turning around and dropping the scalpel on the table. His eyes finally spilled tears that Cat would never see. And despite his efforts, Chase was crying out. Softly, but his enemy would still hear it.

“What are you doing here?” Cat sounded genuinely curious. And that tiny question felt like a stab in his already bleeding heart.

“What am I doing here?!” He choked out, trying to get a hold of himself. Chase would have been yelling if his throat could handle it. But for now, he had to settle for just regular talking. “I wanted answers. I wanted to know where you’re keeping my brother! But it seems you’d rather die than do that.” Chase choked down tears. “He’s just a pawn to you. But you have no idea about the man you’ve stolen.”

“I’ve been inside all your heads. Jameson’s been a little puppet for me since I first met him. I know him well enough.”

Chase wanted to strangle him. But he fueled that rage into his words. “No you don’t! He keeps us in check. Reminds us there are still wonderful things and creations in the world. Helps guide our moral compasses and spur us into action if need be. He grew up at a disadvantage, and he hasn’t let it harden him. He is the embodiment of being careful but still loving and kind. He knows the value, cost, and power in trust and love. He is what makes this family good.

“And now that you’ve taken him from us,” Chase started laughing, despite nothing being funny about any of this, “what makes you think we’d ever give up trying to get him back? Won’t do anything to bring back the light of this family?”

“It took you less than 24 hours to go insane. That has to be a record of some kind.”

“You’re a creature of darkness too. When you find someone who brings light, you need them to stay in your life. They make you feel good, feel alright, help justify any misdeeds you may have done.

“... I’ve already had my lights taken and snuffed out once. I won’t let it happen again.” And Chase thought of something he hadn’t yet tried. “You want a hostage? Take me. Use me. Make me your puppet. Do whatever the hell you want with me. As long as they get Jameson back.” Chase wasn’t crying. It was a brilliant plan. And he let himself have hope for an ounce of a second. But Chase couldn’t read Cat’s mind, nor see how his expression changed. It took this fiend he was bargaining with a full minute to mull it over.

“That’s not going to happen.”

Chase wrapped his hand around Cat’s throat. He didn’t squeeze, and Cat didn’t try and resist. Chase let go, his fire fading inside of him. He walked over and sat on the stool that Henrik kept in there. Looking out the window, up at the sky, even the stars seemed to be mocking him.

“What even is your plan?” Chase heard his voice crack as the tears flowed freely and his throat became very narrow and raw. There was no sense trying to hide it now. Cat was their prisoner, but he’d still won. “Kill Jackie? Kill all of us? Or just break us? Make us your puppets? Or maybe just let yourself die and Jameson along with you? Whatever it is, can you just do it already?” He still had trouble getting a breath, but he was talking better. “You’re the one with all the cards right now. Nothing I say or do is going to change your mind or your plan, so just, get on with it already. Okay? You’ve won.”

Chase kept his head up. Jameson had always told him to keep his head up when things were at their lowest. Something about a placebo effect. God I wish you were here Jameson. I’m sorry I let this happen to you.

There was the sound of movement behind him, feet shuffling. Then some lower murmuring. Chase closed his eyes to take a large breath in and out. Tears flowed down his cheeks still. He could imagine what Cat was doing right now. Slowly making his way over to Chase, picking up the scalpel Chase had tried to use on him. Getting ready to finally get revenge on Chase and add to their family’s grief. He was so tired. Maybe this was the only way it would ever end. Pathetic, useless, and brought on by himself. “If you’re gonna slice my throat,” Chase started, sure Cat was nearly on top of him now, “try and hit an artery. Makes it quicker, so I have less time to scream.”

There was a beat. Chase wasn’t sure he’d get any last words. “That’s good to know.” Cat wasn’t close. Chase turned slightly and saw Cat still sitting on the medical bed. “But I’m not the one who’s going to kill you, Chase.” He turned more, now facing Cat fully. The man took a large breath in and out and looked at the floor. “It’s not my intention to kill any of you. I just need Jackie to suffer for betraying me. I know you may be the only one in this family that understands that.” Chase wanted to believe he was lying. But they’d all nearly died by his hands. 

“Why should I trust anything you tell me?” Chase wasn’t accusing, just tired. Tired of having to fight all the time.

“Are you dead?” Not a very convincing metric. “I promise, I will try my best to keep Jameson alive.”

Chase finally got up to start heading back to his room, knowing that unfortunately, he could do nothing more tonight. “You’d better keep that promise. Jameson hates it when you break promises.”

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Author Note: So, I do hope you are still enjoying this series. And I hope these characters actions still seem to line up with how I've written them so far. I sometimes love the dialogue I write too much to change it, even if it might be a bit out of character. But they are all dealing with so much anyway. how the hell are they supposed to react.

anyway, i'm just rambling because I've written myself into a corner in chapter 10 and am unsure how to get to the scenes I've already made in my head. I really think you'll like 8 and 9 though, once I edit and post

Despite his experience, Jameson did what he could to talk himself down. Say that it was just a crush, that he wasn’t in love, that they were just work colleagues. It was never a good idea to put someone on a pedestal because everyone had their flaws. But sometimes she’d start talking about her real life. About her cat, about the places she wanted to travel, about the painting that she was currently working, or about how she had bigger plans for her life than just bartending. She’d always said he was a good listener, unlike a lot of other people she knew. In truth, he would listen to her talk all night if he could. Because every little bit of information she rambled off only made him more interested in spending time with her. Yes he could tell she was attractive, but nothing could compare to the light she got in her eyes and the inadvertent smile and the sparkle in her voice. He just... never had the nerve to tell her how beautiful she was.

Maybe it was the nagging fear of how terribly his last crush ended. Maybe it was fear that she’d misinterpret his words. Maybe he was too afraid that it would ruin their relationship at the moment. Letters, every Wednesday night. Trying to find the correct wording, always ending up in his jacket pocket, and being deposited into his trash bin at home.

 Tonight though, he didn’t get the luxury of churning over how to tell Emma that he liked her. Tonight, he was too preoccupied with the people he already knew he loved and loved him back. Henrik had gone quiet silent ever since his stay in hospital. The doctor had assured Jameson that his absence was merely exhaustion and a lot of tough cases at the moment, but it couldn’t have been just that. Perhaps he was going through, what was it Henrik called them, episodes of relapse .There had been no night terrors, like usually happened, luckily. But there seemed to be extra weight on him when he walked anywhere in the house. And his mind always seemed to be somewhere else whenever Jameson would try to strike up a conversation. Of the talks Jameson did manage to engage in, the despondence and dragging in his voice couldn’t be masked. Even if it was something as simple as choosing a show to watch. Jameson wished he knew of ways to help Henrik, but his eldest brother always seemed to magically get “fixed” after having a particularly life-saving day at work. Still, there was a desire to help more than just “waiting out the storm.”

Chase had been doing. . . better. Getting out of the house more, and maybe even jovial most mornings. Of course, Jameson only got to hear the chap rushing around his room before Chase was off for the day. But sometimes, he’d hear Chase through the walls, crying in his sleep. There hadn’t been any lunch texts from him either, not that Jameson ever really enforced them on Chase. The thought remained though, was Chase actually doing better going out? If he was hanging out with his mates, why was he so sad? And was he still doing his mantras and remembering to eat? Jameson had brought Chase dinner last night, but found it barely half eaten this afternoon. He didn’t know what was going on, if these were the same troubles or new ones, but he needed to talk with someone, even if that someone wasn’t Jameson.

Finally, there was Jackie. It was a relief to know that he was just on assignment, but it wasn’t like Jackie to just ghost him like this. Leaving without saying goodbye in person. He had been a bit more distant these past few weeks as well, but Jameson had just thought it to be exhaustion from all the work he was doing. The man even changed his sleeping patterns so he slept partially at night and partially in the noontime, just to try and help more citizens at what he called “the critical night hours.” Hopefully Jackie wasn’t running himself ragged. Jameson drew out his phone and sent Jackie a quick photo of a puppy dog, just to let him know he was thinking of him.

It never was easy to bring up any of these hard topics. The lot of them usually tried to change the subject when he brought things up. Recent times had seen more issues though. Perhaps his family had been infected by an invisible plague of silence, or bad luck, or misfortune as of late. But, where there was darkness, there had to also be light. There was always light if his family was together.

A strong hand landed on Jameson’s shoulder, making him jump in the air. “Hello there chap!” A voice boomed from behind him. Jameson turned his gaze towards this person interrupting his thoughts. His eyes grew wide at the impossible. This man looked exactly like Jackie. The face shape, the sparkle in his blue eyes, the slight curve in the bridge of his nose, even the small smirk in his smile. But, the longer Jameson gazed, the more he realized this wasn’t his brother. There wasn’t a scar going through his left eyebrow. The man’s facial hair was far more well groomed. And his hair was longer with strands coloured a deep purple. Jameson felt himself sink down, disheartened that this wasn’t the man he wanted to see.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, I just wonder if I could speak with you for a moment.” Jameson raised his eyebrow curiously, enough so the man could understand his confusion. He may have looked like his brother, but that was where the friendliness ended. Either the man was thick or just determined, because he took the seat beside Jameson with such a swagger, as though he’d been invited to the conversation. He got the feeling this man invited himself into people’s lives a lot. Jameson kept his eyes trained on this man; something about him just didn’t feel quite right. The man seemed right at home though, lazily sitting back in his chair as he faced Jameson.

“I was hired to be a matchmaker here. Management thought it might make some of the guests...” The man gazed around the room, making Jameson’s eyes wander too. Nothing exceptionally unique about tonight. “Happier,” the man concluded, turning his attention back to Jameson. “And, well, I think you could be of use in that endeavor.” Jameson wasn’t giving an inch. Instead of signing with his hands, he folded his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. This man seemed so entitled, like Jameson was just a service to be used. “Ah, I see you have your doubts. But let me explain.”

The man laid his hands on the table and started moving them in tandem with his speech; talking with his hands without actually talking with them. “See, all I would need you to do is change up your tunes to something, brighter. Or some old-fashioned love songs. Something to subconsciously make people feel something ...” His hands started spinning round each other and for a moment Jameson thought he saw green sparks start swirling around with them. “To feel unwittingly joyful.” That was putting it mildly. Get them ‘in the mood’ or horny was probably more what he wanted to say (not that his songs could create such feelings). But, Jameson appreciated the politeness with the subject. “And I know that it would take time to change over and learn something new, and you’re thinking why bother? Well, I can offer you a trade of services. You change your set, and I can offer you my services, free of charge.”

Now, Jameson was generally a nice man. He probably would have added some new songs into his set if asked nicely. After all, it was kinda fun to learn something new. But hearing that this man would set him up with someone, that made him drop his stoneface. Match-making. Someone who worked to set you up with someone you could love. The thought both excited and terrified him. Because what if this man could actually do that, but what if it just ended horribly? Jameson had a front row seat to the destruction of each one of his brother’s romantic relationships. And that was only long term. He’d already known the pain of short term humiliation and did not end to relive it again.

“Or,” the man’s suave voice drew Jameson back to reality, “if you don’t want the full-on match-making, I can simply provide dating tips, in case you already have a special someone in your eye.” Jameson’s eyes darted over to the bar. Emma was swarmed with patrons, but he could still see the swing of her ponytail as she worked furiously to keep them all happy. Yes, he wanted to be closer to her. Did he want to date her? Possibly. Did he love her? He wouldn’t use that word. What he would say is that he valued his time with her and enjoyed her company. Maybe it would be worth his time to listen to this man. Maybe he could help with Jameson’s dilemma. 

“Do we have a deal?” Jameson looked at this man, this not-Jackie man. And the longer he stared, the more he felt a strange pull, almost like a compulsion to trust him. Green sparkles appeared around him, making him dazzle, like he was a shining beacon of hope. And in that moment, all Jameson could see was Jackie. Someone who would help him, protect him, be there for him. Jameson felt his hand rise and extend forward. As soon as the man grasped it, the spell was broken and he was back to the dapper matchmaker. Had a good handshake too. Strong, just like Jackie... “Good man! Let’s get started, shall we?”

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