will-never-be-a-swan:

wrapped-in-shadows:

“No one was hurt that… that was good…” he whispered as her arms were back around him and he was reminded she was safe, she was here, and not stolen away again by Psycho or by Hot Flash. “I’m so glad.” Jack added, “R-really I am…” but his heart, his artists heart, was screaming in agony.

All of those paintings had been done over the years, one dating back over ten years. But they were gone. Only prints left, not the originals. Save for the one of Katelynn reading, that one had been a copy hanging in the gallery. The real one was hanging on the wall in her own apartment, untouched, real. 

“T-they’re compensating me th-the damage… the loss…”

She shook her head, angry tears at the corner of her eyes. “Compensation can’t make up for your work. Years of hard work I’m sure. That has no price tag. This is too cruel..oh god..”

Hadn’t her friends suffered enough? Threats and magic anons, experimentations and things such as what Six suffered, nightmares and fears; it was just too much.

She brought a hand up to her mouth, her eyes scrunched up and lip trembling. How could she fix this for Jack?

“It… it’s okay…” he said quietly, pushing his hands through her hair slowly, carefully. “S-shh… Katelynn… I’m okay… you’re okay… we’re t-together… that’s what matters, n-now. It’s what always matters to me…” Jack whispered as he pulled her hand away from her mouth slowly.

“Paintings can be done any time… they can be replaced, remade even but… but not you… you’re irreplaceable to me.”

will-never-be-a-swan:

wrapped-in-shadows:

“N-no I. I don’t think so.” he said shakily, allowing her to touch his face, checking to see if he was all right. Her concern touched him; it meant she hadn’t been hurt at all. It had just been his work. All of his work… twenty six pieces, all gone. Poof. “It. The gallery, w-where my work is?” Jack asked quietly.

“Th. There was a fire. It’s all gone. Poof.” he lifted his hands shakily, his hands white as his face was. “All… All gone.”

Her hands stopped moving, her eyes widened at his words. A fire? Oh god..Did she..But she doesn’t even know him!

“Oh my god..Jack…Oh god I’m so sorry, love!” she cries, pulling him in closer, shutting her eyes and wishing this was all just a bad dream. She knew his work couldn’t be replicated or replaced. He had worked so hard, she was sure, on all of those pieces and they were gone in an instant.

He was so pale, so scared. It broke her heart to see him this way!

“No one was hurt that… that was good…” he whispered as her arms were back around him and he was reminded she was safe, she was here, and not stolen away again by Psycho or by Hot Flash. “I’m so glad.” Jack added, “R-really I am…” but his heart, his artists heart, was screaming in agony.

All of those paintings had been done over the years, one dating back over ten years. But they were gone. Only prints left, not the originals. Save for the one of Katelynn reading, that one had been a copy hanging in the gallery. The real one was hanging on the wall in her own apartment, untouched, real. 

“T-they’re compensating me th-the damage… the loss…”

will-never-be-a-swan:

wrapped-in-shadows:

But then the apartment door opens and Roxy lifts her head from her seat on the beanbag, but then promptly rests it down when she sees its him. Jack’s face is pale, hollow, and you can smell the faintest hint of smoke on him as he walks in, shutting the door behind him. The moment he does the paperwork he carries is dropped, and he’s moving towards her, arms out.

“Katelynn.” he said before wrapping his arms around her; having been terrified as well at the idea that they had burned his work, and stolen her away again.

When his arms are around her, she’s relieved to see him, to see that he wasn’t sure or kidnapped. But she can smell the smoke on him, can see that he looks unwell and wraps her own arms around him carefully, checking for injuries. “Jack! Are you okay? Are you hurt? W-Was it Hot Flash?”

Her hands moved all over his body, her eyes searching his face for answers or clues.

“N-no I. I don’t think so.” he said shakily, allowing her to touch his face, checking to see if he was all right. Her concern touched him; it meant she hadn’t been hurt at all. It had just been his work. All of his work… twenty six pieces, all gone. Poof. “It. The gallery, w-where my work is?” Jack asked quietly.

“Th. There was a fire. It’s all gone. Poof.” he lifted his hands shakily, his hands white as his face was. “All… All gone.”

will-never-be-a-swan:

Having received Jack’s text, Katelynn was a bundle of nerves, not finding him at their apartment and unsure of where he had gone. What if he was hurt? What if he had been kidnapped? The threats of Psycho Delic and Hot Flash were flashing through her mind, causing her panic to grow. Had she angered them that much that they had found Jack and decided to hurt him?

Pacing inside the apartment, she gritted her teeth, unsure of what to do. “Jack..where are you..?” she whimpered, looking at her cell phone, wondering if calling him would only get him more in trouble.

But then the apartment door opens and Roxy lifts her head from her seat on the beanbag, but then promptly rests it down when she sees its him. Jack’s face is pale, hollow, and you can smell the faintest hint of smoke on him as he walks in, shutting the door behind him. The moment he does the paperwork he carries is dropped, and he’s moving towards her, arms out.

“Katelynn.” he said before wrapping his arms around her; having been terrified as well at the idea that they had burned his work, and stolen her away again.

Jack had been working on one of his latest pieces when his phone had rung. Answering it before even checking he had greeted the caller but stopped when he heard it was the man in charge of the Splat! Art Gallery. His eyes had gradually widened as the man explained something horrible had happened and that Jack had to come down to the gallery right now.

He had, of course, but what met him gutted him entirely.

It had been a fire.

The gallery had gone up in flames.

Jack’s work was gone.

Majority of them had been originals. Pieces that meant so much to him and they were gone. He thanked God that the original of Katelynn painting was with her, and not here, for to lose that would have shattered him.

The man is talking about compensation and insurance and things that Jack could care less about. He shuddered, nodding his head mutely, arms around himself as he stared at the firemen who were cleaning up the mess left behind. His work… his work… Why had this happened?

For a moment Hot Flash’s threat flashed through his mind. Fire. Fire.

God he hoped it hadn’t been her. Had she found him? But he’d done nothing to her! Nothing at all!

Paperwork signed, promises of a pay out and other things done, Jack shakily makes his way home.