The phone is ringing off the hook when he gets home from work. Landis can hear it even as he unlocks the door, and it keeps going as he takes off his shoes and jacket and hangs up his keys. He thinks about not answering it, about just letting it ring. Hardly anyone ever calls the apartment, and they certainly can’t be looking for him. They’re probably trying to get in touch with Austin or Otter. Landis doesn’t exactly relish the prospect of having to explain to a complete stranger that the person they’re looking for has been in the hospital since yesterday. But maybe it’s a worried relative of Otter’s - or maybe it’s Austin or Otter themselves, calling to tell him something important.
Landis sighs, crosses into the kitchen, and picks up the phone.
“Hello?” a voice he doesn’t recognize asks. And then, when Landis doesn’t say anything, “Austin, if that’s you, I swear to God, don’t hang up.”
“Um,” Landis says, immediately regretting his decision, “who is this?”
The voice on the other end of the line is silent for a second, then returns with a question of its own. “Who is this?”
“Landis Holliday,” Landis says. He’s reluctant to give his full name, but something about the voice makes him feel like he ought to. He swallows, trying to summon up the phone voice he uses at the diner, willing his hand to loosen its white-knuckled grip on the receiver a little. “I live with Austin and Otter. They’re not, uh, neither of them is home right now.”
“What?” The voice sounds startled. “They’re not - Walker said they were on bed rest! Austin shouldn’t be up and walking around the day after -”
“Bed rest?” Landis’s eyebrows shoot up in realization. Whoever this person is, Walker lied to them. Why would he do that?
“Yeah, he said Austin had a concussion or something, but -”
Landis laughs. He can’t help it. “What? Austin’s in the hospital.”
There’s another silence, so long that Landis thinks that maybe the person on the other line hung up. But if he listens closely enough, he can hear them breathing in an uneven way he recognizes. It’s the breathing of someone trying to stave off a panic attack that’s closing up their throat.
“Who is this?” Landis asks again, more gently.
“Jacob. Uh, Austin’s brother. I guess - he probably hasn’t mentioned me, he…doesn’t, really, I would imagine. Can you, um, is he okay, or…?” Jacob trails off. Landis can still hear him breathing, though maybe a little fainter, like he’s holding the phone away from him.
Jacob Jones. That’s interesting. Landis can’t remember Austin ever mentioning the name Jacob, let alone the fact that he had family back home. Landis had suspected, of course - what with the way Richard talked about the Department being passed from member to member of the Jones family, and Austin dancing around the subject of who was currently running it. It had always sounded a little indicative of bad blood, which hadn’t made Landis inclined to press the issue. But Jacob sounds like he’s genuinely worried about Austin.
“He’s okay,” Landis says slowly, wondering how much he should say. If Walker lied, maybe it’s for a good reason. Or maybe he just didn’t want Jacob to worry, and figured Jacob didn’t care enough to call Austin directly, which probably says something about Walker as a person.
Jacob lets out a breath. “Thank God.”
“I mean, he’s alive. He - he got stabbed through one of his hands, all the way through, and his other wrist was fractured, I think. I haven’t been to see him since he got to the hospital. I, uh, don’t know if I’m allowed.” Landis sits down at the kitchen table, stretching the cord of the phone out. “But he called last night and said he’s doing okay. I can get you his room number, probably, if you want.”
“That’s -” Jacob starts excitedly, but cuts himself off. “Actually, maybe you’d better not. I don’t think he’d be happy about me calling him.”
Landis tips his chair back just slightly. He looks out the window above the kitchen sink just in time to see a flock of crows burst into the air, a dark cloud rising up from the power lines. A murder, he thinks darkly.
“You’re his brother,” Landis says, “why wouldn’t he want to talk to you?”
“Things…aren’t good between us. He’s not happy that I sent Walker to look after him - I mean, he wasn’t happy with me before that, but I think it made things worse. We’ve never really seen eye-to-eye on what his responsibilities are.”
“His responsibilities?”
“As a Jones. As an agent of the Department.” Jacob sighs. “It’s…unprecedented for a Jones family member to have two children. Usually there’s only one Jones kid per generation, and they go on to run the Department when whoever’s ahead of them dies. Only, Dad decided he wanted to adopt two kids.”
Landis rubs the stubble on his cheeks thoughtfully. He doesn’t quite understand a lot of this, but it sounds like Jacob needs someone to talk to about it. “So Austin is - he’s an exception to the rule.”
“Yeah. But the other families who fund and help run the Department decided that he should still be part of the administration. And Austin didn’t think it was fair that we were, well, basically born into careers that were decided for us. He said it was like conscription. And granted, yeah, we were being trained for it by the time we were old enough to walk and talk, but -” Jacob cuts himself off again. He pauses for a long time, and then laughs. “God, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. You’re probably not interested in our fucked-up family stuff. I’m just - I’m really worried about Austin, I guess. I don’t know what to do. Sorry. Sorry!”
“I’m worried about him too,” Landis says quietly.
“And,” Jacob says, “and, I’m pissed off that Walker lied to me and said he was fine! Who does that? His whole job is to live here and make sure nothing bad happens to Austin, and somehow even that is too much for him!”
Landis hums sympathetically. The mention of Walker’s job jogs something in his memory - something he’d actually meant to ask Austin. But since he has the head of the whole Department of Paranormal Research on the line, he figures, might as well go for it.
“Speaking of jobs…” Oh good, off to a great start already, that voice in the back of his head that sounds like Mal quips. Landis frowns and starts over. “Uh, well, not to be rude, but is it true that I’m supposed to work for the Department now?”
“Sorry, what?”
“Walker said with criminals you - you either lock them up or have them work for you as some kind of rehabilitation program.” Landis glances back out the window, looking for the crows, but they’re already gone. “And I’m a criminal.”
“Are you?”
The question hits Landis like a punch in the gut, though he’s sure Jacob doesn’t mean it to. He’s hesitant about his answer. “Technically, yes.”
“From what Austin said, it sounded like you were under some kind of supernatural influence,” Jacob says. He sounds calmer now that they’ve changed the subject, but still a little frazzled. “I mean, you still have to be brought in to the Department and processed eventually, and we’ll probably have to interview you and anyone else who was involved, but I don’t exactly think you belong with the hardened criminals, here.” He pauses. “Unless you want to work for us, which I wouldn’t say no to. Couldn’t say no to, actually, with how shorthanded we are right now. But I get it if you aren’t too excited about making paranormal bullshit your day job.”
Well, that’s an idea. The little Mal-voice in Landis’s head is back. It’s not like you’re really suited to do anything else, once you leave Antlers.
Landis frowns, tightening his grip on the phone again. “Can - can I think about it? And let you know?”
“Oh, yeah, of course.” He can hear the relieved smile in Jacob’s voice. “I doubt Austin is going to come home for a while, and you’re technically in his custody until he brings you back to the DPR, so you’re kind of out of my hands for the moment.” There’s suddenly some kind of commotion on the other line - a heavy thump, and Jacob saying something, far enough from the phone that Landis doesn’t catch what it is. Jacob is talking again before he can ask. “Uh, I’m about to go on my lunch break, actually, but can you do me a favor and not tell Austin what we talked about? I mean, you can tell him I called, if you want, but -”
“Yeah,” Landis says, “I won’t.”
“Thanks,” Jacob says earnestly. “It was nice to, um, meet you. Sort of.”
“You, too.” A smile tugs at the corners of Landis’s lips. It’s nice that Jacob cares so much about Austin, even if Austin doesn’t seem to think so. Austin deserves people who care about him.
“And thanks for, just, talking. About the whole Austin thing. It helped.”
“I’m glad.”
“I’d be happy to talk any time you need it,” Jacob says. “Austin has my number.”
Landis startles, and hears the tell-tale click of Jacob hanging up on him as he’s still figuring out what words to say and how to choke them out of his throat. He’s left staring at the ceiling, his mouth hanging half-open. Jacob Jones. Who would have thought?
obviously the reason austin and jacob don't get along is because jacob is a nerd and austin is an emo. i've cracked their familial relationships wide open