Chapter Text
Home is where I want to be
Pick me up and turn me around
I feel numb, born with a weak heart
I guess I must be having fun
The less we say about it, the better
Make it up as we go along
Feet on the ground, head in the sky
It's okay, I know nothing's wrong, nothing
This Must Be The Place — The Talking Heads
1990-2001
For the first nine years of Jayce Talis’ life, it’s just him and his mother Mena. They move a lot, when he’s really little. Memories marked by which couch he’s sitting in and which direction the light from the window filters in as he eats mac and cheese out of the same blue plastic bowl. Mom works a lot, waiting tables and tending bar. When he’s really small, he spends most of his time with an elderly neighbor whose house smells like cats and the bathroom. By the time he’s a little older, he can recognize how hard his mom works, how tired she is all the time. He thinks that must be what being a grown up is like. Tired bones, bags under your eyes, catching quick naps wherever and whenever you can. Most of his early childhood is a mix of blurred confusion, action figures with the paint chipping off and the view from the backseat of a car or the window on the train, and the sharp focus that comes with worrying for someone you know is your only protector. Jayce can’t remember a time that he wasn’t worried something bad was going to happen to his mom. The product of being a family of two, perhaps, of knowing intuitively that if something happened to his dad, it could happen to his mom too.
He doesn’t really remember his dad, although he knows there was an overlap after he was born and before his father died that they existed together, he has no real recollection. His mother speaks of him fondly, and for years Jayce holds him up as this sort of perfect man, someone kind and hardworking and handsome, shoes that would be impossible for a mere mortal man to fill.
When Tobias Kiramman comes into their lives Jayce is wary. He doesn’t want a new dad; he definitely doesn’t want a little stepsister, but even as a kid it’s hard to pretend he can’t see the difference in his mom. It’s a busy year filled with gifts, new clothes, heat that is always on in their little apartment, and an ease to his mother that puts him at ease in turn. Suddenly, she is around a lot more. The skin under her eyes is brighter and she isn’t just rushing him to school or to a neighbors, but taking him out for ice cream, to the park. She’s awake enough at the end of the day to play and read and talk. He feels like he has so much more of her, and he’s old enough to know that Tobias must be helping in some way, supporting her and filling in the cracks. He has no pride to wound, no real concept of wealth or class. He only knows that for his whole life he has missed his mom even when they were in the same room, that she always felt a little far away and now she isn’t. Brighter, bigger, laughing.
Plus, Tobias is kinda fun, and he’s funny. He does all the different voices when he reads books to Jayce and Caitlyn, he knows more about Pokemon than Jayce could have dreamed of, gifting him not only sets of cards but games to play on the new gameboy he now has. Jayce didn’t even realize they were poor until they aren’t anymore. Until there is more food on every plate and more toys and new clothes all the time. It softens the whole new dad thing, it sweetens the deal.
When they get married, two months after Jayce’s tenth birthday, Tobias offers his last name to Jayce, and out of some last holdout respect for his father, Jayce politely declines. He doesn't feel right changing something so fundamental about himself, and neither his mother or his new stepfather fault him for it. Caitlyn, a strong and willful girl a few years younger than him, follows his lead. She likes what Jayce likes most of the time, and has been, for the most part, eager to have an older brother. It’s not that she seems hurt by his decision, more following in his wake that they should maintain this last shred of connection to who they once were, to their dead parents.
That is something they have in common, dead parents. They talk about it one night, tucked away in a blanket fort lit by flashlights, pouring over what must be sixteen different mixed lego sets, sorting out the jewels as makeshift currency for the city they’re building.
“I do remember her,” Caitlyn says. She’s about seven, and her mom has been dead for four years, but she maintains that she was tall and beautiful and had blue eyes, like she does. “She used to make my toast into shapes and she laughed a lot. She smelled special.” Jayce is a little jealous, and his mind moves between a strange sense of past and present, both crushed together and so drawn out in the way it only can be when you’re ten years old. They make a promise to each other that night, not to forget them completely. To talk about them still, even if Jayce doesn't have much to say. He knows from his mom that he has his dad’s eyes, and the shape of his chin, and his sense of humor. He decides to carry those things forward.
They all move in together in a new house, nearly 40 minutes outside of the city and away from the place Jayce spent his first years. “A place we can grow as a family,” Mena says, leaning her head on Tobias’ shoulder as they walk into the house. It’s much bigger than any place Jayce has ever lived in, on a street full of mostly other big houses, lots of trees and a yard with a pool . He has a new room, and it already has all of his stuff in it when he gets there, all the things from his old life before and the new life he’s acquired in the last year.
“Things are going to be better now,” his mom tells him, and he believes her. But also he knows things are going to be different, and that he’s leaving behind a city, an apartment he loved and friends down the hall, and a school he’s been at since first grade. He’s nervous to start somewhere new, somewhere it seems like everyone already knows each other.
Pilter’s Cove is a nice place to live, mostly. A mix of families and houses and stores. There’s a big park, there’s a movie theater and a video store, a little coffee shop that he and mom and Cait go to for muffins in the mornings. It feels a lot quieter than the downtown he’s used to. The first few nights he’s a little spooked by the silence, which makes every creak and pop and whisper seem loud in stark contrast. He’s used the sound of traffic, of people yelling down the hall, of footsteps above his head. It takes him almost two weeks to be able to fall asleep easily again, but eventually it happens.
His new school is pretty and his teacher is nice, but he’s still the new kid, an outsider, and there is something about him that doesn’t seem to immediately click with the rest of the guys his age, despite his best efforts.
The first week is lonely. He tries his best to banter with the boys and he does okay when they’re playing out on the field but he can’t help feeling like he’s missing out on some vital piece of the joke, or worse, that he might be the joke itself. He ends up withdrawn and little nervous most of the time, fighting the urge to just go hang out with Caitlyn at recess, something he’s sure she wouldn’t mind but which feels like a form of mild social suicide, considering he is in 5th grade and she is in 3rd. It all feels a little hopeless until he stumbles into the cafeteria one day and sees a kid sitting alone, pouring over a new pack of Pokemon cards. He doesn’t even think about it, just wanders his way over and sits down.
“Did you get anything good?” He asks, making no formal introduction on account of being ten and more curious than polite.
“Not sure yet,” the answer comes in the form of a scratchy little voice with the slightest hint of an accent, barely there. At first Jayce thought it was a boy, from a distance, but now he thinks maybe it’s not. Whoever they are, they’re real skinny, clothes a little too big and baggy, jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt. The haircut is ambiguous, not long enough to be long hair but not short hair like his either. “I still have one pack to open,” the kid clarifies, “But so far these are all repeats.”
Jayce reaches over to take a look for himself, “Hey, I don’t have a Machamp,” he says, voice bordering on being offended that whoever this kid is, they didn’t see that this is actually a hard card to find, in Jayce’s limited experience.
Skinny fingers reach to take it back, looking at it appraisingly. “Hmm, trade?”
“I don’t have them with me,” Jayce sounds dejected, his body slumping. “Tomorrow?”
He’s met with bright brown eyes and a little nod.
“I’m Jayce, by the way.”
“Viktorie, you can call me Vik.”
It’s not a name he’s ever heard before, and he still isn’t sure if he’s talking to a boy or a girl. It doesn’t matter that much to him, he’s going to sit with Vik again tomorrow, regardless, but childlike curiosity dictates he clarify.
“Are you a boy or a girl?”
Vik’s eyes roll as if this is an annoying question, one that isn’t new.
“I’m a girl, duh?”
“Oh. You kinda look like a boy.”
“Thanks,” Vik says, snapping down a new card. Jayce can’t tell if she’s being sarcastic or not, if maybe that’s the style goal here. Maybe the avoidance of pink dresses and shirts that say attitude or angel or sassy is purposeful. “What do you have to trade, at home I mean?”
“Oh,” he thinks about it. “What are you missing?”
“I mean obviously anything super rare, holographics, Japanese cards,” there is a funny little pull on a few of her words, a slight rolling of the Rs, “but short of that… I don’t have a Togapi.”
Jayce does, but only the one. He thinks Caitlyn might have one too, and wonders what the odds are that he can trick her into parting with it. For a little kid, she’s pretty clever, making her a much tougher negotiator than Jayce would have hoped for. Still, this is the most fun he’s had since he moved to Pilter’s Cove, at least with someone who isn’t his little sister. He is eager to make the friendship work.
“Yeah, I’ve got two,” he lies, pretty sure he can make it the truth before tomorrow, and they spend the rest of recess looking over Vik’s new cards and discussing battle strategies until the bell rings.
That night he does manage to get Caitlyn’s Togepi, but it costs him twenty three rare neon lego jewels, one gameboy game, and a promise that she can have first pick out of whatever deck he gets next. Cutthroat .
Still, for the first time ever, Jayce can’t wait to go back to school.
Vik is the first real friend that Jayce has in Pilter’s Cove. He quickly abandons any interest in running on the field or swinging from the bars during recess. Vik doesn’t like to run, says it’s hard for her. She moves a little slow, with the right side of her body usually held still unless the task at hand absolutely requires the extra effort. Jayce learns quickly that the baggy shirts she wears hide a bit of a twisted spine. He asks her about it and she just shrugs, says it’s always been that way, and that’s the end of it. She almost never mentions it, but Jayce can tell that sometimes it hurts by the way her posture changes or the little crease that comes in between her eyes. He doesn’t mind not running and stuff, though, it’s way more fun to hang out with Vik. They like almost all of the same stuff right away, and what they don’t know already they show each other. They both like comics, and after a few weeks of hanging out they decide to start making their own. They call it The Adventures of Fartslug and Boneblaster , a title that never fails to send them toppling over into fits of giggles.
Pilter’s Cove is safe enough that Tobais encourages Mena to let Jayce wander off on his own, so he and Vik get dropped off at the park and spend hours under the playground equipment brainstorming adventures for their comic books, which Jayce mostly writes and Vik mostly draws. They start pooling money for packs of pokemon cards and splitting them up based on who has the greater need. Jayce has an allowance, Vik does not, but he doesn’t mind sharing when it’s with Vik. When summer comes, there seems to be an endless stretch of time for them to play. They set off most days into the thick woods behind the house where they’ve built a small encampment with spray painted plywood and leftover garbage from their collective garages, broken beach chairs, half a skateboard, old PVC piping. It’s enough of a fort that they can go inside and close the door off. They've got a flashlight hanging from a string inside, but they’re not really allowed to hang out there after dark anyway, and enough light filters through the cracks in their construction. When it rains, the mud is a thick red clay and they make little bowls and plates and leave them to dry in the sun. Nothing has ever felt so easy and so fun, the time just seems to wash away before Jayce can blink, setting out early in the morning and turning to find the sun setting, rushing back home either by foot or by bike or waiting for a ride as the streetlights kick on at the edge of the park. It’s hard for Vik to ride a bike, she’s clumsy. But she does okay holding onto Jayce on the back of his and his mom allows it as long as they both agree to wear helmets.
They always hang out outside or at Jayce’s house but he doesn’t really think much of it. There’s fun stuff to do, and for the first time in his life he feels seen and understood, he has someone who finishes his sentences, who picks up on his ideas intuitively and makes them bigger and better. He has a best friend.
2018
Jayce hasn’t spent much time in Pilter’s Cove in the last ten years. He returns for the obligatory Holiday once a year, but has never managed to make thanksgiving and christmas both. He hasn’t spent more than two nights back home in a row since he moved out, and most of the time he spends is tucked away in the kitchen at his parents house, helping to cook or clean or catch up. It isn’t that he doesn’t love this little town, he does. It’s just that life got bigger when he left, and busier, and he’s been on a steady climb ever since. In fact, when he stops to think about it, it’s been nearly three years since he was back at all. Mena and Tobias came to see him in DC for thanksgiving last year, and the year before he was at a conference on the Intricacies of City Planning in South America in Brazil.
Jayce did well enough in school to earn him a place in an ivy league college, and well enough there to get his choice of internships. He likes the idea of working in government, but still considers himself something of a bleeding heart. He considered law, hasn’t fully ruled it out if he’s being honest, but for the last four years he’s been working for a nonprofit sector of the state government that does community revitalization and he loves it. He likes being project oriented, he likes being able to go in and make a hands-on difference, to transform a place into something useful and helpful to the people.
When he finds out that Pilter’s Cove has been selected for their new initiative he calls in more than one favor to land the lead on the project.
There’s a giant, old, historic building at the center of town known as Haller House. Once, more than hundred and fifty years ago, it was the center of local government. As a kid, it was long since decommissioned but protected by the historical society enough to be a place that they went to on field trips, learning about the ornate decor and the architecture. He remembers enough about the history of Pilter’s Cove and its place first as a railroad town, a vital stop along a long trip from coast to coast, and then later the industry that was brought by the glass factories. Haller House still sits right along the railroad tracks, just a few hundred yards from what is now the new, modern train station. It’s a massive piece of real estate that serves almost no purpose except to act as a landmark, a place you look for when finding the parking lot of the station or a place you tell people to turn left for downtown or right for the park.
He’s genuinely very excited to return home for a bit, to settle into his roots, to see his folks, old friends too. Some of them, anyway. There’s a not unfamiliar tug in the back of his gut when he thinks of home and friends that he has spent the better part of a decade trying to ignore.
He gets an uber from the airport and spends most of the ride scrolling on his phone, checking emails and sending messages to his team. He hasn’t been able to take the lead on one of these yet and he’s eager to prove himself, wants everything to go smoothly, easy. He thinks, hopes, that having history here will help. He looks up once they’re in Pilter’s Cove proper. The bones of the town remain the same but he can’t help but notice parts of it seem to be falling apart. There’s empty houses where ten years ago there wouldn’t have been. The cars feel outdated, a few shops are boarded up. It’s been rough out here and he knows it, objectively, but it’s still a little heartbreaking to see. Things seem to perk up as they get closer to his parents house, the east side of town always had a little bit more money to it, and it shows more now than ever. But that’s why he’s here, isn’t it? That’s what this program is all about, putting taxpayer money back into the places where it’s most needed. Already, he has lofty ideas for what they may be able to do with Haller House, to create a central location and community resource for the entire city.
His old street still looks the same as it did when he was twelve, the same as it did a couple years ago. Even the gray and rainy autumn day can’t dampen the brightness he feels as they pull up to the old Dutch Colonial house, painted white and bright with black shutters on every window, the angled roof familiar and welcoming. He tips well, grabs his bags from the trunk and makes his way inside.
It’s a strange time capsule. The pictures on the walls have changed, there’s a new couch, a new fridge and stove in the kitchen, but so much of this place is the same. He could spin around and be sixteen again, if he didn’t think about it too hard. Jayce feels a strange, time slippery wobble somewhere deep in him, like multiple versions of himself are stacked on top of each other, each paper thin and building up high enough to make the shape of a whole person. He swallows thickly, unwilling to get lost in nostalgia now, knowing damn well that there are things that have kept him away beyond just a busy work schedule, things he isn’t trying to think about right now.
“Mom?” He calls out, “Tobi?” It takes a moment before there’s a noise from upstairs, then Mena is rushing down toward him. She’s gone grey, and she’s got thick black glasses on, but other than that she’s in the same clean cut dark slacks and brightly colored cashmere sweaters she’s been wearing since he was a teenager. “ Mijo,” she says, standing on her tip toes to kiss him on the cheek, he bends down to allow it, taking her into his arms. She’s so much smaller than him in the physical sense, but she will always be a giant in his mind. His protector.
“Is it just you here?” He asks.
“Your father will be back for dinner,” she says with a smile. Jayce isn’t sure when Tobias became his father, but at some point he did. In between support for every strange hobby Jayce had from robotics to lacrosse and talking him through the darkest angsty moments of teenagehood, he went from being moms husband to Jayce’s dad. Not Jayce’s only dad, but his dad nonetheless. “Do you want to help me cook?” Mena asks, and Jayce really does. Together, they head into the spacious kitchen and he dutifully acts as sous chef, cutting up vegetables and finely chopping herbs and not even complaining about how the strong onions make his eyes water. They’re making a stew, and she starts by slowly roasting the onions and garlic in oil at the bottom of a big pan, adding in the herbs as they go. The kitchen smells aromatic and savory in no time, and she pours them glasses of strong red wine to sip as they cook.
“So, how is Washington?” She asks him, and he shrugs. There isn’t much to tell. “It’s been fine, I just got done with a big project out in New Jersey, so I got to go home for all of maybe a month before heading out here.”
Jayce has a nice apartment in DC but it’s sterile, it has none of the charms of his childhood home. Most of his essentials stay halfway packed up, tailor made to fit into a suitcase and ready to go at a moments notice. He likes it that way, likes the excitement of doing new things. It makes it easy to slide between things, to not have to put down serious roots. He likes that he can stay noncommittal in relationships, finding sex to be more work than it’s worth a lot of the time, but still occasionally picking up charming women or handsome men in strange city bars to spend the night with. He likes the variability that new projects offer him, a change of pace, a way to reinvent himself on the fly as he goes. He doesn’t want to look too deeply at that compulsion. The six months he spent in therapy a few years ago had revealed that, perhaps, it was easier to stay charming and well liked when you never had to give all of yourself to someone, and where do you think that comes from, Jayce?
He hadn’t gone back.
He fills his mother in on project details and some of his plans for Haller House and soon he hears keys in the door, and Tobias is joining them. Dinner is delicious, and the company is good, but he misses Caitlyn. It feels odd without her, since he never had to live here without her and she’s a constant presence at holidays. He wishes he had someone to sneak outside with to nurse a beer, or even a few hits of a joint after everyone else has fallen asleep. It feels surprisingly incomplete. With the current schedule he thinks he will be there through thanksgiving, however, so it’s something to look forward to at least.
Full on beef stew and the one and a half glasses of wine he can reasonably drink before he gets a headache or stupid, he takes his leave and heads up to his old room.
It doesn’t look the way it did when he was a teenager, it’s much more of a guest room now. No bunk bed, no shelf of comics. But the orientation of things is still the same, the bed still faces the door, the light from the street still angles in to catch the edge of it, and it feels familiar and safe. He’s more tired than he thought he was, and it takes him almost no time at all to doze off.
Jayce’s alarm goes off early, and he drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom for a shower. He only brought a handful of outfits, figures that with a washing machine and a few variations he should be fine, he’s more worried about the mental impact of staying with his parents for so long. Hopefully he will be able to throw himself into work, and maybe even make some friends while he’s here. He has no idea who’s still around from the old days, but imagines that most people he grew up with have moved on, or if they are here they’re probably married with kids or busy with work. He hasn’t been great at keeping in touch, doesn’t have many people he’d want to keep in touch with anyway. Under the hot water, because thinking around a thing is almost the same as thinking about it, his thoughts circle and then land on Viktor. It’s been more than a decade since they’ve talked, and Jayce thinks the odds that someone that smart and driven would have stayed in Pilter’s Cove are slim. He’s probably traveling the world, or married, or both. He’s not going to ask after him, because he doesn’t care.
Jayce shuts off the water and dries himself off, he picks out a nice suit and makes sure his hair is dry enough not to leave the collar wet before putting it on and buttoning it up. He expects his parents to still be sleeping this early, but they’re up at the table with coffee made when he goes downstairs. He doesn’t have a lot of time, but sits for long enough to down one cup of strong coffee, sweetened and full of cream. Haller House is probably only a twenty minute walk away, but it’s cold and rainy so he plans to call an uber.
“Take my car, sweetheart,” his mom says. “My friend Josie is picking me up anyway, I don’t need it.” So Jayce takes the keys to his moms jeep and drives into town.
The gloom of the day is making everything look more
depressing, but Jayce is caffeinated and he has time to stop by his favorite coffee shop for a muffin before heading to meet the team, nostalgic crumbs of orange and cranberry still sweet on his lips as he makes his way inside.
Haller House is mostly unchanged. It smells a little damp inside but it’s still beautiful, the early 19th century Queen Anne architecture standing out bright and bold amongst the more modern buildings around it. When he was a kid, he thought it looked a little like a castle and a small part of his brain still feels that something about it is regal and royal. He knows it’s going to have to get modernized inside as part of this project, but he feels sure they can keep a lot of what makes it so charming.
His team is there, Mel and Elora taking point, standing shoulder to shoulder inside the big entryway.
“Ladies,” Jayce says as a greeting, taking the folder from Mel.
“This has all your plans plus the updated notes you emailed in.”
“You’re the best,” Jayce says with a smile, shaking off the last of his nerves. More people filter in that Jayce doesn’t recognize, and a small man with a wild crop of silver hand and a handlebar mustache comes forward to shake his hand.
“Mr. Talis!” He says with excitement, “I’m Dr. Wallace Heimerdinger, head of the historical society and overseer of Haller House. We’re just thrilled to have you here.”
“Pleasure to meet you Dr. Heimerdinger,” Jayce says, bending down to shake the hand of the tiny man.
“Please call me Wallace!” He has a bright and loud voice for such a small man, a strong presence.
“Of course,” Jayce nods. “We’re honored to have the opportunity to revitalize such a vital and important part of Pilter’s Cove. If you’re ready, you can follow me and I’ll go over everything. I think you’re going to be very excited about our plans here, we really want to see this building transformed from a monument into a thriving community center. There is so much space here to be utilized, space for classes for children and adults, halls that can be used for weddings, for birthday parties, for community theater. I think you’re going to really see our vision.” Jayce levels his winning grin down at the smaller man in front of him, who still appears bright eyed and interested, a good sign.
There’s a crisp sound of someone else entering, sharp shoes on the wood floor but an arrhythmic lilt to the pattern, and Jayce raises his eyes to see who’s joining them.
“Hopefully you don’t mean literally transformed. This is a historic building, after all. I would hope that you didn’t plan to come in and make any structural or physical changes to the space?”
All the air leaves Jayce’s body. First of all, he absolutely did plan on doing those things, but he has no words in his mind or his mouth as he looks out at the man standing in front of him. Thin, sharp, well dressed and leaning on a polished wooden cane, more familiar to Jayce than Haller House could ever be.
“Oh good! You’re here. Mr. Talis this is Viktor Kostka, he’s a professor at the University and on the board of the historical society, I have tapped him in to oversee all changes here at Haller House as my schedule is, unfortunately, very full this month. He is extremely knowledgeable in both the history of the building as well as the codes around making any type of changes, so I am sure you two will become well acquainted as you move forward.”
Jayce’s heart is a Mack truck, his body a highway, he can feel the beat of it from head to toe.
Viktor is standing there, his gaze cold and calculating, and Jayce looks like a fool, shocked into silence. His brain catches up with his body a little too late, and he stumbles forward, unsure of what to say as he sticks his hand out for the introduction. Instinctively he holds his left out, so Viktor doesn’t have to lift a hand off his cane. Viktor eyes Jayce’s hand with a look of mild distaste before reaching out to shake, sliding his thin hand against Jayce’s, skin on skin for just a moment, cool and electric.
“Hi,” Jayce says, a little breathless, but the sentiment isn’t returned. He has no idea if Viktor expected him to be here, knew full well who was heading up this project and had time to prepare or if he really is just unaffected by Jayce’s presence.
“As I was saying,” Viktor says, pulling away and turning his eyes to Dr. Heimerdinger, “I will have to look closely at any plans for this building, and I would hope that your little project has taken into consideration that this is a historic monument, first and foremost, and not a plaything to be disassembled and reassembled at your will.”
Jayce’s brain continues to catch up, and he realizes that the hostility rolling off of Viktor might not just be personal, that this might be the attitude he would be bringing regardless, even with someone he didn’t share such a messy and sordid history with. Maybe he really is fully dedicated to making sure that no major changes befall such a historic monument , regardless of what an asset to the community it could prove to be.
“No, of course not,” Jayce says, trying to inject as much of his usual charm into his voice as he can. “I have no doubt that we will be able to come up with something that both maintains the integrity of Haller House while also working to create something new for all of Pilter’s Cove to enjoy.”
“Hmm,” Viktor says, and Jayce, because he knows this man well, even if he doesn’t know him at all, can hear the implicit ‘ I doubt that’ left unsaid. When he speaks again, his tone is just as cold, his eyes just as sharp and calculating. No mercy visible in any line of his body. “By all means then, tell us what you have in mind.”