#station writeups

He couldn’t believe it. His slumped figure, the uncanny features of what used to be his face, his screams… Adam Murray, one of the most wanted criminals by the FBI to date, was one of them?

Thatcher, body laying on his side on the carpeted floor of the suspect’s bedroom, stared in utter shock and horror at the criminal’s screaming state, his eyes and mouth misshaped to the point he couldn’t be recognized as who he was before. He had witnessed someone’s humanity being stripped away from them. Just like his had in previous years.

Thatcher put down the camera and slid himself to a nearby wall to recover properly. His hands reached for the popcorn texture and pushed himself up, all while trying to think of some way he could calm the boy, or, if needed, neutralize the threat. He didn’t seem like a threat, however. The voice beckoning to this place had certainly not wanted to lure him for the sake of getting killed. Whoever called him here wanted him to witness someone else’s pain, to test him in his willingness to actually help others. And he gladly took that challenge.

“Murray, kid,” Thatcher tried to speak, his voice raspy from having woken up only a mere thirty minutes ago. “I… What the hell’s going on?”

“JUST LET ME DIIIiIiiEeEEE!!!!!!!!!” he screamed, the pain clear as day through his voice. He tried moving his slacked arms, sluggishly grabbing his jaw and hair in his separate hands, pulling on both of them simultaneously. He even began whispering and mumbling for the Lieutenant to “just kill him,” pleading for the sweet release of the pain he had been enduring.

Thatcher swallowed his fears and began approaching the alternate, hands hovering over the gun he had brought for protection. As much as he knew he couldn’t kill those things, it was a good distraction in case things had to get violent. He’d survived one before, what’s another?

He inched his way toward Adam, the suspect trying to crumple himself into a ball as a way to mitigate his suffering. All the while, he was still screaming at the top of his lungs. His footsteps were quiet so as to not alarm the suffering boy in front of him. His limbs had been stretched out to an impossible length as well as being skinny enough that he’d die right there and then if he were truly human. At this point, Thatcher was sure that everything he thought about Adam was a complete lie.

There was one thing on his mind as he stepped ever closer: does Sarah know? Does his ex know? Does anyone else know?

Once Thatcher had felt he had been able to get close enough, he bent down to Adam’s level, hesitating for a moment before reaching out to him. Slowly but surely, he had placed a soft hand against the disfigured kid’s knee. Adam tried lifting his head but decided he didn’t want to due to how much it would hurt for someone else to see him like this. Thatcher knew it too.

Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around the crying mess, ignoring how liquid the skin felt, how flexible it was now. It became goo in his hands as he tried gripping onto Adam for dear life, not wanting to let him go until he’d calmed himself down. Adam began to shift around a bit before uncurling himself, albeit in a very strained manner. Thatcher noticed this attempt and slightly backed away, still keeping his hands attached to Adam in an attempt of comfort.

“Why… aren’t you running…?” Adam asked, the soft whisper of his voice almost not reaching the officer’s ears. “Did… why? Why are you here?”

“That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is making sure you’re okay,” Thatcher responded in the same tone of voice as to not scare him. He had a gut feeling that him breaking down is why he’s all discombobulated. “Take some breaths with me, and hold on tight if you need to.”

With those remarks, Thatcher softly embraced Adam once more, Adam slowly returning his gesture this time. Thatcher could feel Adam’s melting hands searching for some sort of grip on him, finally setting on holding his hair a little too tight for Thatcher’s comfort. Thatcher decided to ignore the pain in favor of helping Adam in the best way he could. He leaned his head backwards to alleviate some of it at least, but it truly wasn’t his main focus at the present moment.

“Take some breaths, kid. Please,” Thatcher whispered. He began to breathe deeply, in and out, in a stable pattern to model to Adam. Adam struggled at first, the snot being sniffled back up his nose and tears running endlessly down his face - or was it blood -, but eventually finding a pattern that worked for him best. His skin began to solidify in the process - not fully, but it was definitely better than before. Adam finally found more grip in his hands and removed his hands from Thatcher’s hair to settle on his back instead.

“I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry,” Adam repeated quietly, half hoping that Thatcher wouldn't hear. Or at least that’s what he theorized.

“Don’t ever apologize,” Thatcher firmly, but gently, stated, pulling away from the boy softly. “You needed help, and that’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Adam looked up at Thatcher, finally. His eyes and mouth had changed back into a normal, stable state along with the rest of his limbs. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, his lips quivered, and his entire body simply shook from the mere shock, pain, and horror of it all.

“Am I… Are…” Adam mumbled. He looked at his hands and flexed them a few times, unsure of if he had returned to his former self or not. “Am I real?”

“If that’s supposed to mean ‘are you normal again’ then yes, you are,” Thatcher chuckled. “However, if you’re truly questioning whether or not you’re real, then the answer is still yes. I have tons of records on you back at the station if you need proof.”

Adam chuckled softly, trying to hide his amusement in Thatcher’s words. He stared at the ground for a few moments, and Thatcher joined him. They sat in complete, awkward silence, though that silence might have been necessary.

“You need a place to stay? Or someone to stay here with you for the night? I don’t want you to be by yourself tonight. Maybe not even for the next few days. And we don’t have to talk about this right now. I understand.”

Adam nodded and began tearing up once more, lunging at Thatcher with a more enthusiastic hug. Thatcher immediately complied.

“Thank you… I’m so sorry you had to deal with this-”

“Hey, again, don’t apologize.”

Adam nodded in Thatcher’s shoulder. He had longed for physical contact for a good while, and this was the best chance he’d ever get at it. Thatcher felt it as Adam tried to get even closer to him, pulling on him even harder and even trying to nuzzle his shoulder just to get that extra sense of physical feeling. A sense of comfort and safety. A sense of humanity.

“I don’t wanna stay here,” Adam spoke up, his voice slightly muffled by the officer’s shoulder. “I need to get out of here…”

“I got you covered. Not too comfortable bringing you to my place due to… circumstances, but we can just head over to the station. I should have something there to make us comfortable.”

Adam nodded and gave a verbal indicator through hums. Thatcher slightly separated from Adam to help him stand, walking him out of the house and to his car. He led him to the passenger seat and let himself get comfortable. After he gently closed the door, he walked over to the driver’s seat, got comfortable, started the car, and drove as fast as he could to get them both out of there.

The aroma of freshly made coffee scattered around the barren Mandela County police station. Adam sat patiently at the high table near the counter for his own portion as Thatcher poured the brew into two separate mugs. The smaller one was for Thatcher, though he was scared of caffeine suddenly being able to reveal alternates’ true forms. Maybe he could consult his roommate for that.

Thatcher carefully took both mugs over to where Adam sat, placing his cup in front of him softly as to not spill the contents. The last thing he’d want is for Adam to be upset, especially in regards to the previous night. They had slept comfortably in some sleeping bags Thatcher had luckily found in the storage area. Adam had practically begged to sleep next to him, as embarrassed and humiliated he felt as he did, but Thatcher reassured him that he’d be happy to comfort him in any way. The night passed with Thatcher feeling like a new man.

“Good?” Thatcher asked, waiting for a comment of his craft.

“Yeah, definitely better than how my old friend used to make it,” Adam replied. Thatcher noticed his inflection change when he said the word “friend,” and as much as he wanted to pry - and imply - about it he knew this was not the time or place to do so.

“So, you feeling okay?”

Adam tensed before replying. “Sort of. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again, but… Yeah.”

Thatcher hummed in understanding and nodded. He took a sip of his own creation before swallowing it and sighing in relief. The only sound filling the room after that were quiet sips of coffee and anxious tapping of their mugs. Adam also tugged and rubbed furiously at the blanket he had wrapped around himself for warmth and comfort. Since he had become attached to Thatcher’s touch so quickly, the blanket was just the next best thing so he wouldn’t be too clingy.

“May I, um, ask about last night?” Thatcher worded carefully as to not upset Adam too much. “I-it’s okay if you’re not ready. I just-”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll try to explain to the best of my abilities,” Adam interrupted, trying to seem genuine since emotions had been difficult for him.

“This all kinda started a few days ago. Me and my… colleague, Jonah, were out doing something for a client. We were supposed to stay there for three whole nights, $500 a night. Can you even believe that? Like, who ever would have thought it was some elaborate trap to have you stick yourself in a basement to hear some shit that doesn’t even make sense? Even from your own mouth?”

Thatcher stared at him utterly confused. Adam had only noticed after a few moments of silence.

“Moving on from that since I’m jumping a bit too far ahead, we had a few disagreements on the place; my colleague wanted to leave but I had a sort of connection to the place somehow. I had even gone there once before with Sarah, in which after that whole thing I had to get my colleague as my new ghost hunting partner.”

“And your colleague was Jonah Marshall, was it not?”

Adam went dead silent. Thatcher got his answer from that.

“Understood. Uh, go on if you’re good with that.”

“Yeah… um, well. We kinda got into a huge fight on the second day, in which he brought up my mother and I just. Told him to leave if he really wanted to not be there. And he… did.

"I went down into that fucking basement expecting something amazing to happen. Something like my mom coming back or some shit. Nothing happened. All I got was more questions and a pissy attitude, which led me to just go searching for J- my colleague myself.”

Thatcher eagerly listened as Adam poured everything he had remembered, paying attention to every time his voice faltered and gave way to his true emotions. He even almost mentioned Jonah, which definitely confirmed Thatcher’s suspicions by that point.

“I found him by the car he stole earlier that day. Dead. I was too deep in an angry, nonhuman frenzy that I just took the car and left, not even shedding a proper tear for him.

Sarah and I had a fight about him, leading her to make me make some stupid memorial video for him. I didn’t wanna think about it, I didn’t wanna do it. I felt horrible, and her making me do that only made things worse. And I even logged off for a few hours after that because I just couldn’t handle it.

“And then he showed up.”

Thatcher perked up. Who’s “he” , he thought to himself, ever so curious as to what Adam could be alluding to.

“He… was the one who told me everything. Started rambling off about how he ‘held me in his arms’ or some dumb shit. I didn’t understand at first, but whatever he did to me made me feel so numb and lifeless. I couldn’t move. Not until he said… He…. told me…”

“Hey, you’re okay. If it’s too heavy for you, you can-”

“I’m not the real me.”

Thatcher held his tongue and listened. It was the only thing he could do as he was too far deep. He couldn’t get Adam’s now black eyes off of him, staring directly into his soul it seemed. Adam looked like he didn’t even breathe to speak his next words, staring Thatcher down like prey.

“He told me I was one of them. If Sarah hadn’t cut the bitch off I would have gotten more answers. But someone always has to stand in my way, don’t they, Lieutenant? ”

Thatcher stared into the orbs that occupied Adam’s sockets, frozen in place as panic rose within his body. He couldn’t move; no matter how much the training had taught him to fight, he could never push himself to. He could only pray that Adam didn’t do this all to kill him, that would just be absurd, right?

“Davis?”

A breath was taken that Thatcher didn’t know he needed. He blinked a few times to ground himself to his surroundings once more. He was still staring at Adam, but his eyes had returned to normal. He sighed in relief.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me…” Adam began to bury himself in his hands, curl into another ball and cry the embarrassment and shame away.

“No! No, no, no, no you’re okay, kid,” Thatcher quickly tried reassuring him, his body ready to hold Adam again at any time in case he needed a quick cooldown.

“I panicked, I… I didn’t know how to process everything, I tried killing myself in so many ways… None of them FUCKING WORKED!”

Adam’s form began to blur as his skin melted, his eyes and mouth becoming more prominent features on his face. His limbs began to elongate themselves again, and his skin even turned even paler than he already was. Thatcher dashed to the other side of the table, cradling Adam’s torso and head into his own. He softly ran his hands through the alternate’s hair, soothing him the best he could.

“Adam, please don’t be upset with yourself right now. I know you can’t control it, and I understand how painful it must be to have your whole identity stripped from you.”

“HOW WOULD YOU KNOW?! ” Adam screamed, his voice echoing throughout the station’s walls and back into the current room.

“The same night your mother died I almost lost my life to one of those things!”

Adam suddenly grew quiet, whimpers and sniffles being the only sound emitted from him as he slowly looked up at Thatcher.

“Her husband called me, asking for help… I should have known it was a trap. I lost a friend too, the only one I could trust. I left her behind to rot in that fucking house… I wouldn’t doubt she’s still there, waiting to exact her revenge on me.

"I couldn’t tell if I was a person anymore after I encountered that thing in the tunnels below Mandela. It took my face, my voice, my mannerisms, everything , and left me there to suffer. I went home that night feeling stalked, haunted, as I have been for the past 17 fucking years. If anyone on this fucking planet knows how you feel, it’s me. And I’m sorry that it has to be me…”

Neither had any words for the next few minutes, Adam shifting in and out of his human and alternate forms before settling on a mix of both. He wasn’t sure how he ended up like that, but he’d just deal with it later like he did all his problems. Thatcher suddenly carefully dropped his head onto Adam’s head, covering his face in the blonde’s curly hair.

“You knew her… ” Adam whispered, his voice wavering slightly.

“Not really. Barely got to even take her body for examination before I got chased out of that damn house.”

“Do you remember anything else from that night?”

Adam took his turn asking for Thatcher’s suffering as he had already explained his. And Thatcher reluctantly answered, lifting his head out of Adam’s hair before speaking.

“Kinda, I remember first walking into the room and seeing some creepy fucking guy on a TV on the floor before it immediately disappeared. Don’t know what that guy wanted or if he was even real at all.”

Adam’s eyes widened; he recognized the figure Thatcher was talking about. He just needed more info. “Do you remember what he looked like?”

“Not really, uuhh. Short and dark hair, permanent smile on his bastard ugly face, looked kinda creepy.”

“Did he look like some sort of weird entertainment guy?”

Thatcher paused. “…Yeah.”

Adam stared at Thatcher dead in the eyes once more but with a look more recognizable as confusion and concern than disdain. Silence filled the room once more, a common pattern between the pair at this point. Speaking so much they end up oversharing followed by a deafening silence as they process every word that was said. This time, however, neither party knew how to advance the conversation.

“Um, we’ll talk more later. Need more coffee?” Thatcher asked to break the silence, following his question with an awkward but reassuring smile.

Adam nodded and smiled back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Night came as fast as it left, the day being spent through joint work on cases that Thatcher suddenly gained the energy to look into once more, joking around with each other, a few video games in which Thatcher almost always lost, and staying in each other’s general company. After a whole range of emotions displayed by the duo throughout the day, both were spent and needed a nice, long sleep to prepare for the following day.

Adam had once again wanted to sleep next to Thatcher, and Thatcher gladly obliged. He felt that Adam was becoming too dependent on him too quickly, but he didn’t want to upset him at the current moment. Thankfully, the alternate fell asleep almost instantly, being overwhelmed with exhaustion with everything he’s had to deal with the past few days - hell his entire life. Thatcher himself was preparing to shut down for the night as well, making himself comfortable next to Adam and ensuring that Adam was also comfortable in his current position facing Thatcher.

“Wait.”

A voice… An actual voice called to him. It seemed dark and raspy, almost as if it was struggling to breathe.

“What…?” Thatcher squinted his eyes in reaction to the intruder. He darted his eyes around the room somewhat quickly to try and scan the area for any potential threats.

“Follow the static, Thatcher. Or if you’d prefer, the music. We have some things to discuss.”

A recording of a music box suddenly filled Thatcher’s ears, almost hypnotizing him to follow its melody. However, Thatcher quickly grabbed a small pocket knife he always kept handy before venturing out into the darkness, a sense of déjà vu hitting him.

He followed the strange melody to where he believed the source would be: his work computer. He carefully took a seat in the almost uncomfortable office chair as he stared into a blank, static filled screen, something he had only seen on old analog TV’s. He didn’t even notice that the music had faded or that a face had appeared on the screen until it started speaking.

“A song made for the girl lost in a land of wonder and inexplicable magic and absurdity, ruby slippers holding more power than any being in that dimension. A song describing how desperately she wished for a better life no matter that her life had been mundane at worst. A song that my son liked very much,” the voice began as if it were making a speech just for Thatcher to hear. It made him shiver at the thought.

“The slippers were meant to be silver, however, though they would seem dull against the colorful atmosphere of the set. My little boy never cared, his caretakers only put it on once to distract the little one before realizing he was entirely captivated by it. Who knew he would react so much when I played it for him again years later?”

“Who are you? What do you want? Why are you talking so much?” Thatcher inquired, anger rising with each question that slipped off his tongue.

“Simple, Lieutenant. I’m Adam’s father.”

The statement boiled Thatcher’s blood for reasons even he did not understand at the moment. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and disgust as he tried to search for words. The figure interrupted him before he could try to put together a single cohesive sentence in his mind.

“I’m the one that took him away. Although, it would have been for the greater good anyway. His caretakers never truly loved him, did they?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The man especially became more absent than the woman, though it’s quite ironic that she was meant to leave this plane of existence before him. The boy’s birth was a joint effort, but one must take more blame than the other, of course. It’s only human nature to push blame onto one party rather than accept the truth of reality. Which is quite funny considering-”

“Stop fucking jumping around everywhere and get to the damn point!”

“Ssshhhhh , you don’t want to wake him up now, do you?”

Thatcher went silent, biting his lip furiously before backing down completely. He looked away, malice burning in his eyes.

“Good. I’ve simply come here to warn you about what you’re doing. We’ve kept tabs on him to make sure someone doesn’t interrupt his ascension into reaching his full potential, his assimilation to become one of us .”

Thatcher felt suffocated by the atmosphere, wanting to back away from his monitor while the static kept him snugly in place, urging him to reach closer to it instead. He couldn’t move, and his breath felt hindered when nothing was stopping its regular flow.

“You… you’re the one who told him…” Thatcher choked out, his words careful and choppy.

“Indeed. Perhaps you remember me? It’s been a long while since I have seen your face, Mr. Davis.”

“Stop switching up how you call me, please just stick to one. And yes, I most likely do.”

“Would this give you a reminder, Thatcher?” the figure’s face warped spontaneously, and his voice changed alongside it. It sounded more cheery, more charismatic. It made Thatcher sick to his stomach when he fully realized he truly had been talking to who he thought he was.

“Yes… it does,” Thatcher practically breathed out. “And I hate it.”

“Good! I was worried it wouldn’t. Then something would reeaaally be wrong with you! However,” its face and voice returned to its previous state, “my warning still stands. We do not need people like you ruining his only chance to join us once again. To become a family.”

Thatcher slammed his palms against his work desk, standing up as he fumed with anger. “You are NOT his family! You things don’t care about people!”

“But he isn’t a person. Why would you care for something as dangerous to your kind as he is?”

“He’s not dangerous; he’s confused, he’s scared, he’s hurt. You hurt him, and he clearly hasn’t accepted the thought of being lied to his entire life, suddenly having his identity stripped away from him sending him into a spiral down through the deepest parts of Hell! I care because that’s human nature, you heartless fuck!”

The screen glitched for a mere moment, revealing the face had disappeared. The static still remained, however, sending Thatcher into a slight panic.

A hand had swiped him from behind, bringing him close to an itchy textured body. The hand’s texture alone threatened to slice Thatcher’s throat at any minute, almost puncturing his skin.

“I told you to be quiet, did I not? If you truly do not wish to hurt him, I suggest you shut your mouth before I make you, ” the figure threatened, squeezing the blood flow traveling to Thatcher’s head to make him feel faint very quickly. Thatcher nodded his head frantically.

“If I killed you right here, would it be too similar to your beloved 'guardian angel’s’ death?” it chuckled, the thought amusing it while only confusing Thatcher.

“How do you…”

“I watched the entire encounter. She died right in front of you, you know. The thing that followed you home hid the blood on his hands for 17 whole years. The blood of your angel coughing up the last bit of her life, his hands squeezing so tight her head almost popped out of place, her voice begging for mercy as she watched her murderer transform into you, making her believe you had betrayed her, all of which happened right before your very eyes.”

Thatcher squirmed, he couldn’t take any more of this thing’s rambling. What was worse was that the grip on his neck only became tighter. He began to try and slam his hands into the figure holding him hostage, pleading for it to release him.

“My final point is that if you mess with his head any more than you have, I’ll find a way to work around your necessity to Him and kill you myself.”

Thatcher was released, being pulled down into his seat to let him recover. The chair moved slightly away from the monitor due to the force, and Thatcher’s head was practically spinning without even spinning the chair. He took several deep breaths before the assailant spoke once more, now in front of him and out of the monitor.

“Or maybe you’d consider a compromise?”

Thatcher darted his eyes to the alternate, still slightly in a daze. “What…? Compromise?”

“I won’t have to kill you if you give him up. We’ll go our separate ways, and if He needs you to be in Adam’s presence again then you’ll know. Or maybe…”

The figure began stepping closer to its current victim, careful in not approaching him too quickly for its own liking. Thatcher followed its eyes as the distance between them shortened and shortened. Once it felt it was close enough, it leaned down to Thatcher’s face, revealing itself in full disgusting glory.

“We could raise him together?”

Thatcher’s heart sank. The skin moved in an unsettling manner, making Thatcher’s own skin crawl. The eyes were mismatched completely, one seeming to have popped out of its socket while the other would have been considered more of a lazy eye if Thatcher didn’t feel like he was being stared down by a predator. Its mouth was probably the most disturbing part, moving slightly slower than how it was speaking and sometimes dragging out certain sounds. The words came out so clean from its mouth, and yet it was like its mouth couldn’t keep up. Kind of like Adam when he screamed in agony…

Every part of him was screaming at him to run, to get Adam and take him far away from this county, from this state, from this whole damn country if he had to. But the fear - and the static - kept him in place to his dismay. He was trapped, required at that point to entertain the monster’s ideas.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice almost inaudible to how much he was shaking. He cursed internally at himself for that.

“You wouldn’t have to worry about death. You could be able to protect him while also helping him achieve his purpose. You could still be there for him. I could see the hope in your eyes every time he smiled. That’s how I was when I first held him in my arms.”

“But… I don’t understand. What would you want from me?”

“You could become one of us.”

Just from that sentiment, Thatcher realized what it meant: they’d replace him with the demon that followed him home. This thing expected him to be that stupid, huh? Was this also part of the other voice’s test? A test of resilience and intelligence? Part of him didn’t want to know, but he did know his answer to the question he was asked.

“No. To Hell with that,” he asserted, his voice deep and quiet as to heed the alternate’s previous warning. “I know what games you’re playing, and I’m not stupid if that’s what you think of me. You’re gonna have to think twice if you think you can deceive me .”

In that instant, the intruder retreated to the monitor, a look of disappointment trying to settle on its face.

“We’ll see when He puts his plan into play. I shall see you soon. Oh, and tell Adam his dear father, Stanley, says hello. Goodnight, Lieutenant.”