ＨＯＷ ＣＡＮ Ａ ＨＥＡＶＹ ＨＥＡＲＴ ＢＥ ＳＯ ＥＭＰＴＹ？

[ambitious]

  ＢＯＲＲＯＷＩＮＧ Ａ ＢＲＯＫＥＮ ＬＯＶＥ．

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✘ leave a prompt ( threadstarter/picture(s)/lyrics, etc )
✘ profit!

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— quinn

[iceicle]

brooke 💕

[adronitis]

more for brooke

[adronitis]

Did you realize I was Latino the night you fell asleep on me?

I'm only asking because I realize I've been mistaken for a gringo my whole life and yet I still feel weirdly guilty when people are caught off guard when I speak Spanish. Like I've been tricking them somehow.

[victimized]

not immediately, but when i sobered up...

i mean, to be fair, i barely knew you were human when i fell asleep on you. you could have been the loch ness monster and as long as you were still willing to be my pillow, i would have been fine with it.

[adronitis]

That...is oddly adorable, actually.

I bet Nessie is very comfortable to sleep on. When she's not submerged, at least.

[victimized]

it's adorable because you turned out to be a good guy. if you'd been a total creeper it would have had a very different ending.

idk. i'll bet 6yo me would have loved it. back when i thought i could be a mermaid when i grew up.

do i want to ask what brought this on?

[adronitis]

Not the thought of you not realizing I was even human, but you sleeping on a mythical water-dwelling monster. I'm very glad you falling asleep on me turned out so well for us both, the opposite doesn't bear thinking about.

Who knows what'll be possible with technology in the near future. You may yet get your wish.

It's nothing, really. I just keep forgetting that I don't look Mexican, which invites conspiratorial comments about Mexicans from people who think I'm as white as they are.

[victimized]

as fantastic as that sounds, i think i might have outgrown my dream of one day being ariel. besides, i'm just not sure i can rock a tail.

so basically, someone was being a disgusting asshole. [ long story very, very short? ]

what happened?

brooke | you asked for this

[adronitis]

[victimized]

[ when are you getting into town? it's never actively discussed in any of their group texts or regular skype sessions, but widely assumed that the four surviving members of the lakewood six would be returning home for the holidays. that is, until brooke throws a wrench in things with one simple reply. i'm not. there's nothing for her there, she explains to emma during the inevitable phone call that follows. she isn't like the others, who all have families to go home to. lakewood is a blood drenched hell hole, and she has no desire to drive past the too large house that used to be hers, or the cemetery where her dad is buried, just over the hill from riley and jake and too many other people she had loved. she can't bare to see the way people's eyes light up when they recognize her, one of the tragedy girls, or the eager way they ask how she's doing after all this time. not looking fot a genuine answer, but instead hoping she's still fragile enough to break.

no, she has a life here and now in dc, and it's where she plans to stay.

despite emma's insistence that she just misses her friend, brooke knows her well enough to see that a bigger part of her just wants to check in and make sure she's doing as well as she claims to be. so with only slight encouragement from marcus, she puts forth the suggestion that, before returning to lakewood, they swing by washington. if only for a day or two. catch up a little before the insanity of the holidays.

it isn't her idea to set up the bonfire, marcus pike the consummate host, but brooke readily agrees. with a few exceptions, it's been a mild enough winter so far, and being outside around the fire may keep them from distracting marcus much, whose work never really seems to end.

even after almost a year apart, the four of them fall back into old conversations as if no time has passed at all. they talk about school very little, all of them too curious about what else is going on in each others lives, with brooke's significant other himself being a big topic of conversation. emma is as sweet and personable as ever, and noah can't contain his inner nerd when he hears marcus' full name for the first time. brooke practically has to haul him into the backyard by the neck of his t-shirt. audrey, on the other hand, spends most of her time eyeing him suspiciously. always the more paranoid of their group, she doesn't let go of betrayal easily or trust new people well.

the three of them stay for hours before falling into a comfortable silence that very quickly becomes their own cue to head back to their hotel. hugging them all as they leave, she clings the tightest and longest to emma, who whispers into her hair "it's nice to see you so happy." there was a time when, as close as they are, brooke would have responded with some sarcastic comment or other about how miserable she must look any other time.

but to the people who know her the best, who've seen every fake smile she can muster, some far more convincing than others, it's not hard to see that this is different. she's almost done with school, she finally knows what she wants to do with her life, and then there's him.

a wintry chill has set into their air but around the fire, still raging thanks to his careful tending, it's still comfortable though that doesn't stop brooke from shivering faintly when the wind picks up. she doesn't turn to look when he approaches, instead shifting in her seat to make room for him. ] You'll be happy to know you made quite the impression on my friends.

[adronitis]

[ Marcus has actively tried not to pry into Brooke's life before she started college. She's told him enough that he's been able to piece together all that he feels he needs to know, and honestly, it paints a fucking horrific picture. It's been tough, resisting the urge to google Lakewood, or her name, or to casually mention it in passing to coworkers he knows had been tangentially affiliated with that case, but he's kept his mouth shut and let her move on with her life. Her past shaped her, sure, but it's her present that he's most interested in.

Well, and her future too, if he's being honest.

The semester ends with a whirlwind of late nights spent cramming for finals and frantic essay-writing, and he's mostly tried to stay out of her way as much as possible so he doesn't distract her while she's working. He proof-reads what she asks him to and helps her with her flashcards, but mostly what he does is feed her and make sure she gets out the door on time in the morning, and lets her do her own thing. Her little office-slash-study-nook is right off the dining room, which means when he cleans up from dinner, it's almost impossible not to overhear her on her Skype calls with her friends, giving Marcus a nearly front-row seat to the whole discussion of why Brooke wasn't coming home for Christmas. There was only mild guilt-tripping but she remained firm in her convictions. She wasn't leaving DC.

After she hung up, he brought her a cup of tea and gently suggested her friends come to visit her here. Not for the whole holiday, since they presumably had family to go see — unlike Brooke, poor girl — but even just for a day or two. They had the space to put them up, and he knows it's important to her.

Which is how he winds up building up the fire pit, hauling some of the patio furniture around to make sure there are enough seats to go around, and filing the fridge for snacks. He remembers being twenty, and how much food he could put away. Being a good host comes naturally to him, and he tries his best to be both welcoming and to stay out of their hair as much as possible. They aren't here to visit him, after all.

He stays outside with the gang for maybe twenty minutes once they all arrive and settle in, and then he excuses himself, citing a pressing project at work that really isn't all that pressing at all. Dropping a kiss to the top of Brooke's head, he withdraws back inside and sets himself up in his office downstairs, killing time by processing paperwork and keeping half an ear out for the low murmur of voices filtering in through the narrow windows at ground-level. He can't quite make out the words, and he doesn't want to, since they deserve their privacy and the opportunity to talk about their pasts without having to censor themselves for an audience that wasn't part of it, but once he hears the scrape of metal chairs across stone and the swell of voices getting louder, he closes down what he's doing and heads back upstairs to see if they're going to call it a night and offer them a ride to their hotel.

Technology thwarts his attempts at chivalry, an Uber having already been called, so he stands around and makes polite small talk for a few minutes before Brooke's friends all troop down the steps of his little white house, waving to them as they pile into the back of the car and drive away.

Heading back through the house to the back patio, he makes a brief detour to pick up some more wood to feed the fire before settling himself down on the little love-seat Brooke had staked out as her own, automatically draping his arm over her shoulders and pressing his lips to her hair. ] Oh yeah? A good one, I hope.

[furens]

Someone passed me your number. I heard there might be someone out there with a reputation even greater than mine...

[ambitious]

a reputation must be protected, it's all some people have.
should i be questioning who this "someone" is?

[furens]

You of course.

We should talk sometime. Coffee. Or something stronger. I'm sure we could have a pretty productive conversation...

> quinn: the return

[conclusion]

[To say there are a few things Matt regrets in his life? A big lie.

There are too many to count, and not enough chances to go back and fix them. Maybe this is his attempt at the fixing part, however late it is. (Maybe it's too late.) He's anxious the whole trip there. With the way things went the last time he was here, he wasn't too sure how to approach the situation. He doesn't want to turn around and cut his losses, try again somewhere else. It's not a 'maybe this is stupid' situation, it is and he almost expects to be captured as soon as his plane touches ground on the tarmac.

He took a plane, for God's sake. Is he trying to do this as normal as he can, or is he looking for a reason to commit?

It's about forty minutes from the airport by car, and fifteen if he wants to... fly, there. Matt decides to spring the extra fifteen for the cab and records the whole ride. The driver asks him what brings him to town and dumbly, Matt says "A girl." Luckily, the driver laughs at him and says that everyone gets to that point, eventually. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Matt laughs along with him, quietly. "Sure, man."

(There had been an accident, something where an ambulance wouldn't get there in time, where the car was going to crush someone and Quinn, well. They were there at the wrong time, wrong place. Matt had told himself he'd keep his head down, not interfere because that brought people to town, that had them asking questions, but Quinn-

Something had to be done, and Matt wishes that he'd said something not as dumb as "this is gonna look bad, but-" before he'd pushed that car off of the passenger. With his mind. Left in a hurry as soon as they'd checked over them, he'd taken Quinn home and didn't wait for the questions, just saw the look of shock on her face. She looked horrified, if he could say anything. But for some reason, she hadn't told anyone.)

At least, that's what he told himself, when no one followed him to the next town over. Or the next one, or the next one, even if it was an ocean away. So why was he back here?

Because he wanted an answer, even if he hadn't been willing back then to give one to Quinn. The only thing he could do was hope that she hadn't moved away, hadn't changed her number. If she did though, that'd take one worry off his mind. And maybe that was for the better. That they left things the way they had, or rather, the way Matt had forced it to end. Still, his thumbs slide over the screen and he pulls up that number on the new phone he'd picked up. Saved the number, for some reason.]

u in town?




it's matt garetty.

i can't remember what canon point i had her at before so...

[ambitious]

[ asking if quinn is still around is almost a trick question. she's still in school, of course. no freakish demonstration of...what? strength? skill? is going to change that. she's worked too hard and for far too long to get to a place where she can be proud of herself. she's no longer in the dorms though, instead electing to rent an apartment off campus. one that she shares with two other girls. it isn't ideal, but anything is preferable to dorm life.

classes this year are harder, but she manages to keep her grades up, no matter how many parties her roommates drag her too. they never asked questions when matt pulled his magical disappearing act, which meant quinn never actually had to lie about what happened. of course, it also meant them shoving her full force back into the dating scene, ready or not.

there are a handful of guys during his extended absence. some never make it past date one. others she attempts to make work. a process easier said than done when he's still on her mind.

she's on her way to psych class when her phone dings, the messages stopping her in place in the middle of the sidewalk. despite his identifying himself, she has to read the two brief messages repeatedly before it makes any sense in her mind. matt. matt. the stupid, charming boy she'd liked so much. the boy who, it had turned out, she barely knew. who took off with barely a goodbye, never responding to her calls or text messages until she finally gave up. deleted his number from her phone and called him a lost cause.

it takes some time before she's able to respond, making her way first to one of the benches that line the walkways. already she's late for class, but it's not like she'd be able to focus anyway. ]

if this is a joke, it's really not funny.
matt garetty is long gone.

it'll be a surprise for both of us because I only know glee by living through you asdfk

[conclusion]

[They'd gotten so far together, got closer than Matt ever thought he'd get to someone else since Casey. Then again, he hadn't even believed that he would have stayed in this town as long as he had. Was it because he'd yearned for the sense of being normal again, of having the chance to go to college, like he'd wanted? He'd traveled the world, seen so many people and of all the places, this had been where he'd taken root, wanted to settle down in. Was it because of Quinn?

The idea of risking everything for someone was - it wasn't a sound idea, to be honest. It was selfish, stupid, and yet that's what he felt he was doing. If tomorrow wasn't supposed to come because of the decisions he was making today, he at least wanted to know that he'd tried. Living was hard and dying was easy, wasn't that what people said? (The spear, lodged inbetween Andrew's ribs, the life leaving his eyes. Folks who'd been hurt by their fight, bleeding out, crying. It was a struggle to stay alive and then nothing. Dying definitely seemed easier.)

His nose scrunches up at the reply because as much he expected it, it brings up what he decided to do, and what led to this point. Ruined what could have been. Brought it to this. Never met someone who stuck on him as much as Quinn had, after everything. His nails drum along the screen for a nervous second, before he straightens himself up,
then steps back to take a picture of his surroundings. He attaches it to the message, like that'll help.]

just got back.
i get if u don't wanna see me or talk

but i'll be around the campus bar if you've got time.

♥♥♥

[ambitious]

[ it's him. really and truly. the picture comes like a punch to the gut.

this is exactly what quinn has been waiting for ever since he left. contact. confirmation that he's alright. an opportunity to talk to him again and find out what the hell happened. not just that night, but between them. there have been boyfriends in the past, plenty of them. even boys she'd seen some kind of future with, before she inevitably went on to screw it up in one way or another. she's a moderately talented singer, and a decent enough actress, but her one true skill has always been in ruining relationships.

matt, she had been certain, was going to be the exception. smart enough, sweet enough, goofy enough to slip past her defenses. until everything blew up in her face and he pulled his disappearing act.

so, while months ago she would have leapt at the opportunity to see him again, now all she wants to do is tell him to go screw himself. jaw straining, she taps out a fierce reply, the second message following quickly after the first. ]

you're an asshole.

give me one good reason i should even bother.

[conclusion]

[He's tired, hasn't slept for maybe a day or two. Too busy going through all the scenarios that could happen from this. The government could find out and be waiting for him by the time he got to the bar, ready to take him away in chains, or in a body bag. Quinn could be waiting there for him just to say her piece and leave, or she could not show up at all. The worst situation felt like the last one, considering he'd come here just to see her. If anything was fixed, it worked out. If it wasn't? Like he said? He had tried.

It takes him longer than it should to read the text; he rubs at his eyes just to make sure he's reading it right, that he's not misconstruing something in his exhaustion.
The reply is on his tongue, on the tips of his fingers and he wants to come out as easily as her anger but he can't. He can't defend himself, not like this.]

i'll tell u everything i can [Is that too much? It's the truth, but he sends a second one just to be safe.]

i'm the biggest asshole in the world and i could type a million things but i can't
u deserve a proper explanation and that's all i have

[ambitious]

[ while she can't, at least to herself, deny that she wants to see him again, it's the promise of an explanation that really settles things for her. they've never really agreed on most things, quinn always taking herself a little too seriously, but on this at least, they seem to be on the same page. ]

i'll be there soon.
don't do anything stupid.

[ a standard warning, even before he turned into the invisible man.

swinging back by the apartment long enough to drop off her books --there are two more classes after psych, and quinn has a suspicion she won't be making it to any of them-- it takes maybe thirty minutes total for quinn to show up at the bar.

the scent of beer and stale popcorn from the machine in the back corner weighs heavily in the air, and she has to blink several times before her eyes start to adjust to the dim lighting. before she can find him. ]

kate!

[repressings]

Are you awake? I can't sleep.

[crucifixes]

yeah, i'm here. is everything okay?

[repressings]

Of course it is. I'm just a little restless, I didn't mean to worry you.

It's late, though. You should be resting for the sermon tomorrow, shouldn't you?

[crucifixes]

i should be, yeah.
dad would probably pitch a fit if he knew scott and i were up watching some stupid movie.
i'll just try to take a nap when we get home.

what about you, though? what's got you up this late?

[repressings]

[ It's complicated. Most of Credence is complicated, so he decides to selectively tell the truth. ]

Modesty was talking in her sleep.

What movie? A scary one, or a fun one?