Chapter Text
The crowd was loving them.
Jean grinned from backstage as she watched Henley float through the air in a giant bubble, people “ooh” ing and “ahh” ing. It really was a miraculous sight, and she couldn’t help but be amazed herself at the ingenuity of humans. All of the things she took for granted as a witch were being turned into art for all to enjoy.
Henley’s bubble popped in a shower of liquid, and even though Jean had seen them perform this trick hundreds of times, she couldn’t help but hold her breath as Danny caught her from the balcony. Applause exploded from the audience, and she felt a warm rush of pride as her two friends bowed before making their way backstage to prepare the final trick of the night.
From her vantage point, she could easily see Agent Dylan Rhodes and Agent Alma Dray sitting together near the center of the theater. Agent Rohdes looked quite unimpressed with the show thusfar, but Agent Dray was smiling ear to ear. Her toothy grin lit up her face, seeming to cause her companion much annoyance. Meanwhile, Thaddeus Bradley, the well-known debunker, was sitting near them, his own smug smile decorating his wrinkled face as he held his camcorder in one hand. Jean wrinkled her nose at the sight of him.
“It’s showtime.” She startled from her thoughts as Merritt slid up beside her, rubbing his hands together like an evil fly. They were in an intermission currently, but Jean glanced down at her watch and saw that he was right. In less than a minute, they would be going back out on stage and securing their positions in a manhunt.
She let out a trembling breath, “I’m nervous.” She whispered, and Merritt slung an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her in comfort.
“I’d be worried if you weren’t.” He winked, letting her go and stepping out on to stage.
“At the intermission, we asked you to write down your current bank balance and seal it in an envelope.” He called out to the crowd, who cheered with gusto, “Now it’s time to take those envelopes out. Everyone take 'em out.”
Jean watched from the shadows as the mass of people moved, almost as one, pulling small slips of paper out from pockets, bags, and the like. Merritt lifted his arms after a few seconds.
“Now, everybody, shout out your name. All at once—go.” A couple of people began to shout, but Merritt encouraged them, “Shout 'em out.”
More names were shouted, but Jean could barely make out syllables, let alone any actual names. Merritt, based on memory, recalled some of the names from the insurance claims.
“Hold on. Clement? Frannick?” He tilted his ear toward the audience as if trying to listen closely.
Jean took that as her cue to leave. She weaved her way through equipment and stagehands, trying her best not to trip over any exposed wires or cables. She reached the storage room just as Jack did, having traveled from the other side of the stage to meet her.
He held up a ring of keys with a grin, jingling them a little too loudly.
“Shhhhh!” Jean shushed him with a whisper, fighting back a smile of her own, “Where is your stage etiquette? Didn’t anyone ever tell you that sound travels back here?”
“Well, technically, the storage room isn’t backstage,” He mused playfully, and Jean resisted the urge to swat at his arm, instead choosing to roll her eyes as he quickly unlocked the door and flicked on the light, illuminating the space.
The small room was completely empty, aside from the two objects placed in the center: A large stage light and a giant envelope with the Horsemen logo printed across the front. Danny had insisted they keep their props locked up on the off chance that someone tried to mess with them and jeopardize the entire show as a result. Jean stepped into the room first, leaning down to try and heft the big metal spotlight into her arms, lifting with her knees as Merritt had taught her, but it barely budged. She tried again, heaving and puffing out her cheeks, but she only managed to move it an inch to the right.
“Okay, Killer, step aside,” Jack laughed, squeezing into the small space beside her, “Let me show you how it’s done.” Jean stepped back as far as the space would allow—which really wasn’t much—blushing a little as his body brushed against her’s while he got into position.
It was only when he lifted the heavy light with ease that she noticed he’d rolled his white buttoned sleeves up to his elbows, the veins in his arms straining with the weight, and his face not betraying a thing. Jean averted her gaze, face burning fiercely, as she busied herself with grabbing the giant envelope and following him out of the room.
“Are you nervous?” He whispered after a few moments of them walking in silence.
“What? Why would I be nervous?” Jean whispered back harshly, feeling her cheeks with her free hand. Had her blush been that noticeable? If she was feeling nervous, it was his fault for being so ridiculously ripped anyway. That display back there would make anyone with a brain blush at the sight. Jack let out a low, husky laugh.
“Well, for starters, we’re about to steal millions of dollars from a billionaire.”
“Oh—” She chuckled in relief, wrinkling her nose. So, he was talking about the show. Deciding to take this chance to joke along with him, she continued, “Yeah, I’m nervous. How could I not be? We’re about to steal millions of dollars from a billionaire.”
“Touche.” Jack grinned at her in the darkness, the only things she could see clearly were the whites of his eyes and his toothy smile. She grinned back and bumped him with her hip, causing him to stumble slightly. Her humor melted into horror as the equipment he was holding lurched toward the floor.
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry!” Her free hand hovered over his bicep as she watched him helplessly, knowing that there was nothing she could do to assist if he dropped the light and it shattered all over the floor—well, nothing she could do with so many witnesses around to see. One of the spotlights from the stage passed through a gap in the curtains, and as Jean leaned down to glimpse his expression, she could clearly see the smirk illuminated on his face.
“Jerk!” She gasped, a little too loudly.
From the darkness, a stagehand shushed her and shot a nasty glare in their direction.
“Sorry!” She whispered before whirling around to send her own glare to Jack, who had snorted at her apology.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you that sound travels back here?” He snickered, using her own words against her as she shot daggers at him with her eyes, shoving him again without an ounce of guilt. He barely moved, which only annoyed her more, “You know you love me.” Jack teased, and Jean fought the sudden heat in her face as her stomach dipped dangerously. If only he knew.
But she was spared from answering as Henley’s voice echoed from the stage.
“Now, Art, did you fill out your envelope?” She asked rhetorically, signalling Jean to enter the stage, “Well, no need. We’ve done it for you.”
Jean turned from Jack and took a steadying breath, plastering a flirty smile on her face and stepping into the light. She held the envelope high for the crowd to see and winked in the general direction of the front row.
“Now, Art, I took a guess,” Merritt mused as he paced back and forth, before turning to the billionaire in question, grinning toothily, “North of 140. Am I right?”
Jean couldn’t see his expression, but from the way he shifted, she figured that Arthur Tressler was feeling a little wary at the sudden discussion of his finances.
Good. She met Merritt’s eyes and matched his grin.
He turned to face the crowd again, “That’s 140 million, by the way.”
Jean held the envelope steady as Henley opened one end and pulled the giant check out of it. Letting the now-empty envelope fall to the ground, Jean grabbed one end of the check so that the two women could hold it up together, putting the large number, with more zeros than Jean could believe, on display for all to see.
Arthur turned slightly in surprise, eyeing the check with slight disdain and worry. Jean sent him a bright, innocent smile as Merrit slapped the old man on the shoulder with a chuckle, squeezing it a few times. Arthur, letting out an unsteady laugh of his own, turned back toward the audience.
“Uh, I’m sorry, Merritt.” Henley spoke up with a wrinkled brow, “How can he be right about his balance and everyone else be wrong?”
“I think possibly because he too, is wrong.” Merritt announced, turning to the crowd, “Everybody, take out your paper, and using the flashlight under your seat, start to warm up that paper. I think your correct balance begins to appear.”
Shuffling filled the air, and soon Jean could see small pinpricks of light waving back and forth as the audience did as Merritt said.
“Now, Art, don’t worry. We have a flashlight for you.” Merritt waved to the right wing for Jack to come out with the stage light balanced in his grip. As he approached, Jean’s heart leapt to her throat. The bright lights did nothing to subdue the sight of him with muscles bunched under his rolled-up sleeves. She was worse than a man.
The crowd laughed a little at the comedically large “flashlight”, as Jack clicked it to life. Jean and Henley simultaneously averted their eyes
“Whoa!” Jean laughed, Henley echoing it from beside her.
As Jack waved the light slowly back and forth, the numbers on the check began to change.
“Look,” Danny exclaimed, pointing dramatically for the audience’s benefit.
Henley gasped from beside her, and Jean had to fight back a laugh at how ridiculous they sounded, “Huh, wow!”
“What’s going on there, Daniel?” Merritt asked, still standing with an arm around Arthur, who was starting to look less concerned and more distraught by the second.
Danny stepped closer to Jean’s left side, peering at the check, “Wait. This is weird. A second ago, it said $144,579,651. But now…now it says $70,000 less.”
Jean exchanged a knowing smirk with him.
Merritt stepped away from Arthur, letting his arm fall as he brought his other hand up to his temple in a classic metalist pose. He stared off into the crowd for a moment before pointing to someone in the audience.
“Josepha, can you stand up?” He asked, and a woman with dark hair rose hesitantly from her seat, “Now, what is your new number?” She took a moment, peering down at her paper, before snapping her head up in disbelief.
“It says $70,562 is now in my account,” she said, and the crowd rumbled along in amazement and confusion.
“Is it possible,” Jean began with a tilt of her head, “That Josepha’s balance went up the exact amount that Art’s went down?” Her tone held a false note of concern in it, and Merritt pursed his lips, pretending to contemplate her words.
“Hey, check it out. It’s happening again.” Jack interrupted, still waving the light back and forth with impressive upper body strength.
Danny peered down at the check again, “Is it?”
Like clockwork, the numbers shifted again. Disappearing and reappearing, different from before. This time it was a steeper drop.
“Wow, it is.” Henley breathed in practiced amazement, “Art’s balance has gone down another 280k.”
“Dina Robertson? What did yours say?” Merritt called out as Tressler looked between the Five Horsemen in clear alarm.
Dina, dressed impeccably—Jean couldn’t help but notice—stood, “$281,477.” The disbelief in her voice was plain as day.
The crowd cheered at the news, and Jack turned off the spotlight, setting it carefully off to the side of the stage. Jean took the check from Henley and laid it down next to the discarded light.
Henley stepped forward with her hands folded in front of her, “We have a confession to make.”
“She’s right,” Jack said, moving to stand next to the redhead, “We lied about something.”
“Yes, none of you were chosen at random.” Danny stepped up on Henley’s other side.
“All of you have one thing in common,” Merritt stayed close to Arthur, as Jean took up the spot beside Danny, voice solemn.
“Everyone in this room was a victim of the hard times that hit one of America’s most treasured cities.” She looked out over the venue, heartbroken at the sight of hundreds of people who had suffered needlessly.
“Some of you lost your houses, your cars.” Jean watched as Arthur stiffened beside Merritt as he spoke, side-eyeing the mentalist, trying to determine what kind of situation he had found himself in.
“Your businesses,” Jack spat.
“Your loved ones,” Danny cast his arm out to gesture to the crowd, “But all of you were insured by the same company.”
Just as they’d practiced, the five of them spun, pointing straight at the old billionaire standing amongst them and speaking as one, “Tressler Insurance.” Their voices echoed off the walls of the room, loud and final. A short silence rang out.
Then the crowd started booing.
“You were abandoned!” Merritt shouted as he brought a closed fist to his chest.
“You were loop-holed!” Henley jeered.
“...out of your settlements.” Jack’s voice was like fuel to the flames as the crowd grew louder. Boos echoed around the room, mixing with angry shouts and harsh profanity. Arthur turned eyes, locking on Jean, face pale and stricken.
“This is all for show. Correct?” He demanded, and she swore she could see the fear in his eyes. She smiled a saccharine smile. Good, she thought, now you know how they felt.
“If by ‘All’ you mean we’re doing it onstage in front of a paying audience? Then, yes, it’s for show.”
The old man didn’t even have time to react as someone from the audience shouted out above the noise, “I’ve got $82,000 in my bank account! It says it right here on my cell phone! Everybody look at your cell phones right now!” The buzz grew impossibly louder. More people began shouting out their bank account balances until it was a completely incomprehensible conglomerate of voices.
Jean looked to Danny, who glanced to Henley with a self-satisfied smirk. She, in turn, shared a look with Jack, the two holding back smiles, and finally Jack glanced to Merritt, who threw a wink at the rest of them. Arthur tracked the exchange with a pinched expression. He jabbed a finger aggressively at Merritt, “Hey! Did you do this?”
Merritt frowned thoughtfully, tilting his head in faux contemplation as Jack walked up behind Tressler, the sound of his voice making the billionaire jump in surprise, “How could we, Art? We don’t have your password.” Arthur glared at Jack as Henley stepped up to his other side.
“We’d need access to information we could never get our hands on.” She held her hands up and wiggled her gloved fingers with a wink.
“Ah, yes. Security questions, for instance, like, I don’t know. Your mother’s maiden name or the name of your first pet.” Danny piped up, making Arthur jump yet again. It was like they were sharks and he was their prey, the way they circled him.
Merritt’s brows drew together on his face, “Where would we get that information, Art?” Jean leaned closer, just out of arm’s reach.
“You certainly would never tell us.” She goaded, and he lunged for her, almost instantly getting yanked back by the chain around his ankle—just another one of Danny’s tricks. Jean barely flinched, smile growing sweeter as the man struggled against his restraints, spitting curses and threats at her and her companions.
“Now, that’s not very nice.” She pouted before spinning to join the rest of the Horsemen near the back of the stage. The sounds of the angry crowd filled her ears as she turned to face them again. Past the stage lights, she could just make out a figure barreling down the aisle towards them, and then one voice became clearer.
“Stop! Nobody move!”
Agent Rhodes.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Danny waving at the FBI agent with a smirk.
As he neared, the detective shouted, “Freeze!”
Silence landed for a few moments and then suddenly a distant voice called out. “Quarterback!”
About fifteen members of the audience charged onto the stage, gaining on Agent Rohdes faster than Jean had expected them to. He was almost to them when the hypnotized group dog piled him, drowning out his cries for them to stop with the weight of their bodies.
Jean quickly connected the magnetized power ascender to the front of the metal harness that all five of them wore beneath their stage clothes, grabbing onto the cable with steady hands.
“We are the Five Horsemen!” They shouted in unison, and Jean activated the switch on the side of her ascender, holding back a squeak as it suddenly began to propel her toward the ceiling, “Goodnight!”
From her position, nearly ten feet above him and counting, Jean grinned down at the pile of flailing bodies below her. Agent Rhodes’ face was just visible between a blonde woman’s torso and a stocky man’s thigh. She met his eyes and felt her smile grow even wider, but was caught off guard when she saw that he was already staring straight back at her. Even more confusing was the fact that he didn’t look outraged. Instead he looked almost…impressed? Jean frowned, unable to look away until a stray knee blocked him from view.
A hand waved in front of her face, snapping her back to attention. Jack was already kneeling on the catwalk, offering her help up beside him. His brow was creased in concern, but he didn’t ask questions as she reached for him and let herself be hauled up beside him. They shared a fleeting glance before Danny was barreling through them, having just helped Henley hoist Merritt up.
“Come on, we have to go!” The illusionist barked, leaving no room for argument as he was already halfway to the emergency exit. Merritt’s hands on her shoulders had Jean surging after Danny on stumbling feet. Her eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the darkness, so she was relying on the heat of Jack’s body in front of her to not fall off the catwalk to her death.
The emergency exit slammed open, bringing with it the thick Louisiana heat. Although winters were warmer down here than in New York, the air was still thick with humidity. Jean dragged in a struggling breath as they sprinted down a metal staircase. Adrenaline from the show and their hasty escape had her heart pounding in her ears and her palms sweating.
“We have to split up!” Danny called from ahead of them, bringing them to a halt next to a dingy garbage dumpster. Their haggard breathing was loud in the night air, “Stick to the plan!”
Jean nodded, unable to speak. She looked at the rest of the Horsemen, who were all glancing at each other in determination. Jack was already fishing a police uniform from behind the giant metal structure, having planted it there before the show. As usual, he was their valuable distraction. Danny would lead Agent Rhodes on a wild goose chase, and Merrit, Henley, and Jean would just do their best to get out of the city undetected.
Henley was the first to hold out her hand, pinning each of them with what Jean could only describe as a motherly stare, “We all know where the meet up is. If you run into trouble, shift to Plan B, and we’ll figure it out from there.”
Jean placed her hand on top of the red head’s, sending a small smile her way, finally able to catch her breath.
“No one left behind.”
Jack’s hand was next, a rare serious glint in his eye. Merritt followed soon after, “No one left behind.” he echoed as Danny placed his hand at the top.
“Don’t get caught.” It was unhelpful advice, but deep down, Jean knew that was just his way of saying “Be careful.”
Jean let her face relax into a playful smirk, “Come on, Danny. Who do you think we are?” They all smiled at that, pulling their hands back. Jack was the last to pull away, gripping Jean’s fingers in his own and squeezing painfully. They stood like that for a few moments more, as the other Horsemen took off in opposite directions, no words were shared, but Jean heard them anyway, and then he was gone.
Her lungs ached as she ran through the dark streets. She was running away from the festivities, doing her best to stay out of sight and out of mind. The Police were certainly crawling through the city tonight. One of the richest men in the world wanted their heads on stakes after all—metaphorically, she hoped.
Magic was her friend as she catapulted herself over trashcans and debris. No one was around to see, and not getting caught and sent to Prison was at the top of her priorities list. When she came upon a chainlink fence, blocking her from moving forward, she blasted a strong puff of air at her feet, pushing herself up and over it with no issues. A quick cushioning charm guaranteed her safe landing on the other side.
Despite the danger, Jean felt free for the first time in a long time, laughing as she shoved another metal trash can to the side with nothing but the energy at her fingertips. It wasn’t long until she was stumbling into their meetingplace, an alley off of Loyola and Howard, right before the outskirts of the city. A nondescript van sat there, covered by a black tarp. Henley and Merritt were already there when she came into view, bent over and panting from the effort of sprinting through crowds and alleys. Jack stumbled into view mere moments later, leaving the four to wait for the last member of their group.
“Have you seen Danny?” Henley gasped out after a few moments, “He should have gotten here before us.” Jean’s stomach dipped in apprehension, but she waved off Henley’s words.
“I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” She reassured the older woman, “He probably had to stop to gloat or something.” Henley let out a sigh.
“Yeah,” She muttered, “That’s what I’m worried about.”
The sound of metal on concrete had the four of them whipping around to face the mouth of the alley. Standing at the opening was a young cop—he couldn’t have been older than Jean herself—looking just as startled as she imagined they looked.
“Shit.” Merritt’s whispered curse didn’t go unnoticed, as the young cop’s hand hovered at his sides, primed to grab a weapon if they gave him a reason. Jean echoed his curse when she realized that the light from the street lamp was illuminating them enough that he surely recognized them. Slowly, she raised her hands up in front of her in a sign of surrender. No one dared to move, but apparently the cop felt the need to remind them.
“Don’t move!” He shouted, voice wavering just slightly, and Jean watched as his throat bobbed nervously. Her eyes widened as his hand moved to the radio strapped to his chest. If he called for back up, they were screwed.
Suddenly, footsteps sounded from behind them, and the cop’s gaze snapped up over their shoulders. His hand settled on his lapel mic, finger ready to press the speaker button. On instinct, Jean reached out, heart thumping painfully loud as she did so. It felt like the world slowed as a blue blast of energy shot from her fingers, knocking the officer back and into the street lamp. She heard the breath leave him as his back made contact with the iron pole, but he quickly recovered and stared at her in horror. She hesitated for a moment, which was a mistake. The cop scrambled to his knees, unholstering his gun, but before he could point it she hit him with another spell, knocking him unconscious. His body slumped to the sidewalk, gun clattering to the ground beside him, and she knew from experience that he wouldn’t remember anything when he finally woke up.
“What are you doing? We have to go! Now!” Danny’s voice had her spinning back around, adrenaline back in full force from her magic usage. She had never been more happy to see someone, but her happiness at seeing the illusionist was short-lived as she took in the expressions on the other three Horsemen’s faces. They stared, slack-jawed and faces unreadable, but not at the unconscious body behind her. A cold rush ran through her, paralyzing her.
“Hello! We. Have. To. Go.” Danny enunciated, waving his arms.
Merritt finally opened his mouth, words tumbling out in an incomprehensible jumble, “S-she just—her hand went whoosh! And the guy went—”
Danny just looked at him for a second, before leaning to the side and spotting the unconscious cop splayed across the concrete. A small smug smile settled on his face. “Oh yeah, join the club.”
“You knew?” Jack bit out incredulously, seeming to have snapped out of his shock. He scrutinized Danny with a suspicious glare and Jean felt the tension thicken.
“Yes, now shut up and get in the van!” Her words came out harsher than she intended, but there was no time for discussion. If someone saw her…victim laying on the sidewalk, her actions would have been for nothing. She didn’t miss the hurt look on Jack’s face, but she ignored it, despite the painful clench in her chest and the anxiety pooling in her lungs.
This seemed to bring everyone back to Earth, because the tarp was off in seconds and the van was backing down the alley not long after. Within minutes, New Orleans was a speck of light in the rearview mirror, but Jean was still on edge.
The van was quiet for a few miles, but of course, it couldn’t last.
“So—is anyone going to address the elephant in the room, or is that something I have to bear on my own?” Merritt drawled from the back row of seats and Jean let her eyes close as she drew in a quiet, exasperated breath. Logically, she knew it wasn’t fair of her to be annoyed by the situation, but the excitement from the night was now soured due to the low mood in the van, and that was disappointing, for sure.
Henley stayed uncharacteristically silent in the passenger seat, but Jack turned an accusing look on her, or maybe he had already been staring daggers into the side of her head. The semantics weren’t important.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Danny said from the driver’s seat, “She has magic powers.” Jean sighed, letting her head fall back against the headrest. His tactless explanation was definitely not helpful.
“Oh, of course!” Merritt quipped sarcastically, “Why didn’t I put two and two together? Oh right, maybe because that’s insane!”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Jack accused, ignoring Merritt’s words. He sounded seriously hurt, and that had Jean turning to meet his gaze out of guilt. She regretted it immediately.
“It’s kind of complicated” She sighed again, but it only seemed to make everything worse as his gaze hardened.
“Ha! Yeah, clearly.” He huffed sarcastically, gesturing to Danny who still had a stupid smug look on his stupid face, “Danny can know, but we get left in the dark. I thought we were a team, I thought you—” He didn’t finish though, just shaking his head and trailing off in frustration, but Jean didn’t need to hear the words to know what he was going to say next.
I thought you trusted us—me—I thought you trusted me.
“You don’t understand!” Jean shook her head as well, the burn of tears pushing at the back of her eyes. This was not how she had wanted them to find out about her magic, “I didn’t have a choice!”
“You always have a choice, Jean!” He snapped. His anger surprised her. It was palpable, and she selfishly felt that it was an unreasonable overreaction. Some of her guilt swelled into anger of her own. What right did he have to accuse her of anything? Her life was at risk now that they knew and she had only exposed herself to save him! All of this, she did it for them, so that they wouldn’t end up in prison—or worse! She had literally broken Coven laws just to keep the Horsemen and their stupid plan on track, and he was mad at her? Jean felt her palms heat.
“Both of you shut up!” Henley whirled to them, snapping at them like an angry mother bear. Jean’s magic immediately fizzled out, coolness spreading across her fingers once again. Jack’s mouth snapped shut with an audible click, but his anger was still painted clear across his features, “If I hear another sound out of anyone for the remainder of the drive, I swear to god I will make this the most miserable drive of your life.”
Jean ground her teeth together, embarrassed, but also annoyed at the entire situation. As she turned her gaze to the window, she heard Merritt let out a low whistle from the row behind her. The dark trees outside blurred into streaks of nothing, and Henley turned up the radio, drowning out Jean’s thoughts.