The second meeting since they started recording was a lot more lucrative than the first. Whether that was a good thing or not was debatable, considering the material on the recordings.

Either way, they came together again for the second time. “Okay, did we find anything related?” Eveline sat down in the head chair of the large white table with a sharp exhale of air. Their current meeting room, a longtime empty club room.

“Nothing on my side, other than some slightly suspicious conversations, that were just out of context.” Will started, reporting in, setting his ruled-out recorder in front of his folded hands.

“That’s two of us, nothing much from my side, other than odd behaviors and hunches.” Eve follows his action in retrieving her recording and setting it on the table.

“What about you guys?” Will asked. “Anything new?” Eve did the same, leaning forward as she set her locked hands under her chin in contemplation. Noah seemed to hesitate, opening her mouth only to have a small cut-off noise come out. The sound almost choked.

“Uh… I, have something.” She began, pausing every now and again. She set her own recorder on the table.

“It’s, I think it’s big.” She seemed to stutter a little.

“When I went back to my dad’s for dinner with some of his friends, I… I heard him talking.” She continued, then paused.

“I snuck back after, and stayed in his office,” Noah pulls out her phone, quickly shuffling through photos, settling on one of a blue blueprint photo. Labelled something vaguely reminiscent of the school's name, “I saw this laid out on his desk, then I thought about it, Hawthorne’s doesn’t have a basement.

The gymnasium is a separate building. So why does this blueprint of it have one?” Noah gulped down what looked like nothing but a ball of tension in her throat.

Gasping in air lightly, either at what she was about to say or the prospects of what she’s said already. “I heard noise down the hall, so I hid in the closet.” It takes Noah a second of nervous fumbling to set her recorder down and press play.

What’s on it certainly isn’t as inconsequential as what Will and Eve found.

Ethan Blackwell, clacking into his study, sounded crystal clear over the barely audible breaths of Noah. Distant clanging of alcoholic beverages set on the study table rang through the room.

Soft murmurs of memories of Naomi, Noah’s mother, distantly connected to Noah’s own image. Tied together in a not-so-much drunk, as is a timpsy rendition of outing yourself of your downfalls as a father, to the tune of openly admitting to regretting helping Oakley’s father, in some sort of plan.

That sounds awfully like admitting to murder. Will thought then scratched it as a second later, the trash pile of a man confessed. Work statements and business talk flit inbetween the confession. He was sober enough to work as he went on lamenting.

Clarifying to no one but himself that that’s exactly what he's covering for. If a cop saw this, he’d be sentencing himself to a briefcase of charges.

It’s no surprise when they hear the soft and heavy breathing of Noah, quickly muffled. Quick glances over her and Oakley do nothing but further the tension, Oakley’s quiet and wound up at the mention of his father, like a shocking truth he’s still coming to terms with, but has already considered. A soft and quivering “Mumma.” Muttered to herself.

Not everyone deserves kids, or even a wife. Silence and tense breaths swim in the air between them. No one is quite sure how to continue after that.

“Thank you, Noah.” Eve gives her a firm nod and a hand gripping hers as she stares into Noah’s cloudy eyes. The rest of them either give Noah and Oakley, by extension, affirmative looks or nods. Nothing more needs to be said, so they continue.

Thoughts fizzle into form inside William’s head as he gets a reminder of the fight a couple of days ago. He couldn't care less about it, but it might be beneficial to the team.

“Oh, wait, I forgot about something,” He pulls out his phone to pull up pictures of the after images of a fight left on his body. Pictures, Eve had made him cooperate for. He can hear her voice in his head nagging him about bodily harm.

“I got in a fight on the way home a couple of days ago. I’m not sure what they wanted, but they riled me up, fought, then hopped off somewhere looking pleased.” He recounted, leaving a couple of details out, and the thought of being afraid or even hesitant at the memory behind, in favor of letting the important parts be known.

“Really?, You… fight? You’re more likely to walk away.” Noah huffed at the thought, amused.

“Yeah, and I almost did, but they cornered me, I didn’t even punch first!” He huffed himself, his ears flicking in surface-level irritation.

“Did you goad them?” Oakley, looking more worried than he usually is- great, he accelerated it -finally spoke up, hiding his worry worse than he probably thinks.

“Yeah, but they said some stuff about you guys, and then some stuff that angered me, so I-... I talked back.” he cut himself off, speeding up his rambling, just enough for it to be heard, but hopefully enough that they won’t process it.

“Yeah, thanks, Loyal buddy, but you’re not getting away with saying you ‘forgot’ you got in a fight.” Noah teased, yet there was an underlying seriousness in her tone at the sight of his slideshow of purples, yellows, and reds.

“Is that what you’re turning in for Mr.Holt’s assignment? because you're only missing green and orange.” He snorted at her bluntness and winced when his bruises protested.

“No, I- It’s not.” He shakily chuckled, curling an arm around himself to brace his ribs.

“See what I have to deal with?” Eve gestured to him with a loose hand. “We all have to deal with him.” Oakley exhaled through his nose in disapproval.

“He has the self-preservation skills of a capybara, and you’re telling me he’s supposed to be a wolfdog?” Oakley sassed to no one, other than the table he’s currently face down on.

Will felt himself parse that one away somewhere deep, unconsciously, deciding to be personally insulted at that one. “H-Hey, I’m not that bad.” He tried to defend himself.

“My bad, you have the self-preservation skills of a baby chick, better?” He deadpanned. Will was about to make a rebuttal that no, it was actually worse, when Oakley turned his face slightly to look at Will with the most ‘If you don’t let me fuss over you, I will crawl out of my bones into your mouth’ look he’s ever seen.

So he just made a small, indignant noise and shut his mouth. “Look what you did, now he’s mother henning.” Noah snickered to herself, poking Oakley’s cheek lightly.

“Yeah, now you all get to text me when you leave school, and when you get home.”Oakley fussed, still talking sideways into the table, looking at them all, unpleased.

“Yes, President Oaktree!” They all chimed, faking a monotone voice, not at all actually upset about what Oakley’s asking of them.

“Did you happen to find anything, Oakley?” Eve broached the subject again, almost hoping for nothing, but asking anyway.

“No… Just rumors.” He gripped his recorder from where he rested his head. Clouds formed in his eyes as he seemed to get distracted in staring for a moment.

Noticing how quiet Oakley has been for most parts of this meeting. Eveline glanced at Will, then Noah, then back at Oakley.

They knew what that meant. They didn’t push, Oakley would tell them if it was something important. “Okay, then I guess that’s all for this meeting. Remember what President Oakley said, and text when you get home.” Eve drove home the warning again, as they picked up their belongings and slowly left the room.

“Thanks, Vice, but stop calling me President when we aren’t in actual student council meetings…” He drifted off at the end.

“Sure, but this kind of counts, doesn’t it?” She gave a small smile. “It is kind of like a club, isn’t it?” Noah added, walking up behind them.

“Yeah, if clubs were involved in investigating murder.” Will joked quietly to himself, more audible than he intended.

“Let’s just go home.” Eve grabbed Will’s arm and started fast walking, Will stumbling after her.

Days later, on the bus, Oakley, Noah, Eve, and Will all manage to ride the bus home together, the mostly smooth metro left relatively unpacked, as well as quiet.

Oakley sat on the inside of the right row, Noah taking the aisle seat. With Will on the outside of the left row, with Eveline on the inside. Talking in hushed voices, they talk to each other. Making quiet banter between each other. With Oakley looking tired as he leans on Noah’s shoulder.

Nobody wants to wake him up when he falls asleep briefly, but as the bus rocks and jumps as it hits a particular dent in the road. Oakley jumps up with a pained wince as they all fall back to their seats after a brief lift off.

The wince, something they’d notice he did, but seemed to do more often as of recent. Never wanting to pry, but worried, Eve sends Noah a glance. She gets the message and starts slowly.

“Hey Oaktree, do you want to sleep over at Will and Eve’s?” She asks in the same whisper tone they were just talking in, trying not to lead him, whether he ends up relying on them or not was a bonus, they had wanted to hang out either way.

He seemed to consider it, face blank for a second, processing, and then giving a small smile, as he hummed. “I’ll check with Kaitlynn.” He pulled out his phone and started typing.

Let his smile drop a little, before it came back again. “I can, Kaitlynn says my father will be busy for a week away from the manor, so I’m allowed to sleep over at Eve’s.” Will doubts his father would let Oakley sleep over if he knew William lived there too, but what business does the headmaster have knowing who lives in Will’s home?

Small exclamations are let out from the trio, mentally preparing a vision for the cuddle pile of blankets he’s about to prepare.

Pillows stacked high, and covers thrown over tall chairs. It’s a utopia of blankets, a wonder how they got so many, or where they came from. Blankets and cushions pad the floor, and even more pillows and blankets decorate the insides in soft lumps, so soft you could fall asleep on them in a matter of minutes.

Contrary to that thought, none of them are lying down; all are sitting upright in a square or circular shape on the pad.

Oakley looks hesitant as he holds a pillow between his hands, squishing and unsquishing it between them.

“When we saw that video… The color of the guy's hair reminded me- it reminded me of my father's.” He threw out.

“I heard him talking about something similar to what Noah’s dad was…,” His mouth seemed to lock up as he got pale. His mouth choking around the words he spat out.

“He said something about investors pulling out, and he-, he did it again…” They didn’t ask what he did, they didn’t question it when he said again, they just scooted closer and hugged him. Pulling him down with them into the prepared softness.

“I’m sorry…” Noah spoke, hesitant and quiet, tears blurring her eyes. “I’m, it’s fi-,” Oakley began, before being quickly cut off by Eveline, “If I hear one more person say ‘I’m fine’, or ‘it’s fine’, I’m going to crash out, and not in Mario Kart.” She gritted out between her teeth, a sickly sweet smile with a foreboding aura swept across her face.

“I-, y’know what, okay.” Oakley gave in, exhaling deeply as he let himself flop down on the covers, the tension falling from his shoulders in droves.

“Just give in, Eve will break you down with her scrutinizing looks anyway.” Noah teased now that the mood was starting to lift. “Yeah, there’s only so many times I can pretend Eve isn’t the mother wolf stalking the lone pup that is me.” Oakley huffed out, amused. Shakily laughing from nerves released.

“Well, this mother wolf will be tucking you in now.” Eveline grabs a heap of heavy blankets and drops them on Oakley gently, after pretending to drop them into his person.

She tucks him in more than necessary before stepping back and observing her work. “Do you feel delightfully squished?” Eve asks the Burrito Oakley. “Yeah, this is actually kind of nice.” He muses to the pillow next to him, as he rolls over the pad, using his toes to turn over in circles, making semi-circle wriggles like a caterpillar until he settles on a pillow adjacent to Will’s personal pile of blankets.

Each one folded around and on top of Will, with pillows propping his head up so he could see. “So they got you too?” Burrito Oakley snickers. “Mhmm, she got me when we separated from the hug.” Will chuckles from underneath all the blankets, observing as Noah and Eve fight with sword pillows.

How they figured out how to make swords out of pillows, you couldn’t ask him. Oakley laughs as Noah and Eveline make individual pillow forts and defend them.

The prospects of sleeping become increasingly more enticing, as pillow forts and pillow swords become regular pillows and Oakley and Will are freed from their Pillow prisons to then be corralled into a sleepy pile of blankets, pillows, and best friends. Quiet and Light breathing follows.