Chapter Text
It’s not pleasant to wake up to screaming. Well, it wasn’t actually screaming, per say. Garrett looked up to his assailant, a woman roughly his age and height. “Get up, dammit!” she snapped, her voice filling the otherwise silent room. Her silvery weapon was pointed directly at him, and her breathing was controlled and heavy. “I said get up! ” she cried.
Garrett slowly forced himself up, her weapon following his chest the entire way. “Now you’re gonna tell me what yo’ renfaire-lookin’ ass is doin’ in my house, bitch!” the woman demanded, her yellowed teeth bared in his direction. Garrett raised his hands slowly, unsure of the situation. She may not have been stronger than him physically, but he had no idea what her weapon would, or could , do. He took a deep breath before speaking.
“Ma’am, this has got to be some misunderstanding-”
“BITCH-!” his assailant snapped. It sounded more like a shotty attempt at intimidation than anything, but it held some power.
“Lady, I don’t even know where I am, let alone have any desire to hurt you,” Garrett said, taking a cautious step back. Just as he spoke, the woman’s resolve began to dissipate. She stared at him with a raised eyebrow, and her weapon lowered just slightly.
“I beg y’r fuckin’ pard’n?” she questioned while tucking one of her mahogany curls behind her ear. She let out a shuddery breath as the corners of her lips relaxed and her eyebrows knitted together. It seemed like Garrett managed to stun her. “You better be fuckin’ shittin’ me right now,” she added.
“I promise you, I’m not lying,” Garrett reassured. The woman, with her suspicions still rampant, cautiously stepped over to a barely visible switch on the wall. She placed a finger from her free hand on the underside of the switch and flicked it on. The light it caused almost blinded Garrett, causing the thief to flinch. Apparently, the woman was also affected by the light as her eyes were squinted. She quickly adjusted, though, unlike Garrett who’d never seen the sun a day in his life. He shielded himself from the offending light with his slender hand, and he looked back at the woman. Her skin was pale, like his own, but hers still had some life to it. Her weapon was pointed back at him, her eyebrows still furrowed. “Prove it,” she demanded.
“Now how in the world am I supposed to do that?” Garrett thought to himself. He simply shrugged. “I don’t know what you want,” he finally replied.
“What’re you doing here?”
“I told you, I don’t know .”
The woman huffed. “Seriously. You’re in my house and you don’t fuckin’ know why?! ” she exclaimed. Then she sighed, which quickly turned to laughter. “Surely this is just a stupid dream. You’re gonna do somethin’ and I’m gonna wake up and see that none of this was ever real…”
Garrett could sense the exasperation in her tone. “I mean it. I don’t even know what it is you’re holding.” He glanced around, taking in the strange appliances and how the lighting in her home was fully electric. “Or what half of the stuff in this room is, for that matter.”
The woman looked back at him. “You don’t know what a gun is? A fucking gun . An American staple-”
“What’s an ‘American’?” Garrett questioned, interrupting her. She lowered her ‘gun’ upon hearing him. Her olive eyes glazed over him, scrutinizing his figure.
“You serious?”
“Yes?”
“No idea what a gun nor an American is.”
“That’s correct.”
The woman sighed and lowered her ‘gun’ fully. “Guess I don’t have much choice but to believe you… But that doesn’t mean you’re gettin’ off easy. You’re still some asshole in my house, and for all I know you could still think t’ hurt me.” She held the gun up again, the end of it pointed to the ceiling. “I’m the fucker with a gun. Don’t think I’ll hesitate, either. You wouldn’t be the first.” Garrett simply nodded. There was no telling what a gun would do to him, and he’d prefer not to find out.” She walked over to the counter and laid down the gun. She then pulled out a small, rectangular object from her pocket and raised it up for a bit. “Take off the mask.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Take off y’r hood, too. Wanna have an exact photo of ya in case I gotta make a police report.”
Police. Not something Garrett wanted to deal with. If they were anything like her, he most certainly didn’t want to mess with them. So, he obliged, removing his hood and mask. The woman continued holding up the object and, presumably, took a photo. However, no photo paper was produced, nor was there an audible snap . He had no evidence of his existence he’d be able to get rid of.
“Alright, you got your ‘photo’. What else do you want?” Garrett asked as the woman put away the device. She looked up at him and glanced over his form.
“Y’know, in any other situation, I wouldn’t’ve acted like this. However, considering you look like absolute dogshit, I’m gonna take some pity on you.” This caught Garrett’s attention. “Got some rules, though…”
There it was…
“One: my room is off-limits . You go in there, especially while I’m in there, I’m puttin’ one between y’r eyes. Two: leave everything as it is. Do NOT touch a single damn thing.”
That sounded reasonable so far.
“Sounds like a deal, lady,” Garrett said with a hint of sarcasm. The woman hummed back in the same tone. “Didn’t finish, but whatever,” she clapped back.
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After going over her rules, which was a rather short list by Garrett’s standards. Just stay out of her personal room, don’t touch anything, and just be quiet. One of which he could handle just fine. He made himself comfortable on the velvet couch, a luxury he wasn’t used to, as the woman brought over a thick looking quilt and a fluffy pillow covered in a satin sheet. This woman must’ve been some sort of noble. There’s no way she’d have these luxuries if she weren’t. Plus, her living alone without a husband must’ve insinuated some sort of income, either by her own hand or from ‘daddy’s money’. A literal father, you sicko. Quit bein’ weird.
Garrett took the offered materials, feeling the quality of them in his hands. A thick, cotton quilt and a fluffy, cotton filled pillow. “Thank you…” he mumbled reluctantly in a vain attempt to be polite. He was sure he’d just stay awake and leave before sunrise.
“No problem. Oh, by the way, what’s your name? Never got it from ya.” The woman replied, her tone much friendlier than not too long ago.
“My name? Why do you care so much?”
“Uh, it’s usually one of the first things you learn about someone?”
Garrett hummed. There was no real flaw in her logic. None that he could discern, anyway. However, he felt it wasn’t her true reasoning. “Is that all?”
“It’s the more important thing, I guess…” she murmured with a shrug. “So, c’mon. Out with it.” Garrett sighed in response.
“Fine, since you insist. It’s Garrett.”
“Garrett?” she repeated, to which he nods. She hummed softly. “Aspen,” she said curtly before leaving him to his thoughts. He placed the pillow behind his head as he laid down, and he laid the quilt over his body. He stared up at the darkened ceiling, processing the prior events. It quickly faded to complete black, though, as his eyelids had enough of staying open.
”Maybe it’s all just a crazy dream…”
he thought as his body relaxed.
”It’s a damn good one, at least.”
Chapter Text
Sunlight filtered through the crack on the curtains, leaving a thin strip of light to fill the room. Garrett groaned as he stretched, his body stiff from poor sleeping conditions. A quick glance around the room revealed that this was, in fact, not a dream. It was real. A tantalizing scent began to rouse the thief. Looking over to the coffee table, there was a plate of eggs, sausage, and toast. The warm quilt pooled around his legs as he sat up, and he looked around before grabbing the plate. It was a heavy, smooth glass, and the food placed on top felt almost luxury to him. Sure, this was food any peasant could have, but it was crafted in such a way that he could easily assume some personal chef was in the house. However, nothing like this came for free.
Garrett grabbed the fork that was next to the plate and began to lightly pick through the food, searching for any poisons or drugs that might’ve been left for him. He quickly found that the eggs that had been made were still hot on the inside, so they must’ve been made recently. The hungry part of his brain kept telling him not to worry about it. Food was food, and he’d barely had any in a week aside from stale bread. But the rational side of him fought against that. Nothing was free. Nothing was just given to you. Not without a price.
The appeal of hot, freshly made food overcame the fear of poisoning, so he began to eat. He took a small test bite, just to be sure it wasn’t poisoned, before ramming straight into it. He was used to eating relatively quickly, as it helped with ignoring the taste of food. He quickly realized how much he underestimated how much was actually there when he still had half the plate left. He sat it back down on the coffee table and let out a breath. He stood up with a grunt, his limbs stiff. He adjusted the hood on his head before looking around again. The sound of glass and water rang from the kitchen, and Garrett slowly turned to check it out.
He hid behind the doorway as he looked at… Aspen. She stood over the sink, washing some of her dishes. “Why would a noblewoman wash her own dishes? That’s a maid’s job,” Garrett thought as he continued to watch. Between the sounds of glass and metal making contact and water pumping itself through the faucet, he could hear humming. It would occasionally mix with gentle singing, to which he could just barely make out the lyrics. Something about ashes, dust, and the devil. Regardless, she seemed to be enjoying herself. She held a gentle sway in her hips, shifting her weight from one leg to the other. Garrett watched as she put the last plate in the drying rack, and she turned to dry her hands on a dish towel.
Then she glanced up at him.
Garrett quickly pulled back so he wouldn’t be spotted, shielding himself behind the wall. “The fuck?” he heard Aspen mutter. He could just barely hear her footsteps on the wooden floors as she approached. He saw her head peer around the corner, and the two flinched in unison, only difference being the yelp that burst out of Aspen. “Dude, what the fuck?!” She yelled as she regained her bearings.
Garrett scowled as he regained his own footing. “Could say the same about you…” he muttered as he furrowed his eyebrows. Aspen was not amused.
“Funny,” she said sarcastically. She glanced towards the coffee table and noticed the half empty plate. “You done with that?”
Garrett blinked and glanced at the table as well. “Why?” he asked suspiciously. Surely she wasn't about to take it or, worse, throw it out. He tensed, ready to make a run for it if the need arose. He knew deep down that she’d likely take it. She had the money not to care.
“I was gonna put it up?”
That threw him off guard, but it wasn’t a pleasant thought to think about. Cold food wasn’t all that fun to deal with. It’d change the texture and flavor of anything, making it just an awful experience. Garrett scowled at the thought. “And what then? Just throw it right back at me later?” he snapped.
Aspen pulled her head back slightly and blinked rapidly. “Dude… Chill out, Jesus Christ, who hurt you?” she replied with exasperation. “You can just have it later! Or, if you don’t want it, I can give it to the cat. I just don’t want food lyin’ around, y’know? Rats, roaches…” she rambled. Garrett could only furrow his brows and tilt his head. He then scoffed and walked towards the plate. “Well? You want it or not?”
Garrett stared at the food for a second, contemplating. He'd like to have the definite meal later on, but when it's cold and dry? The eggs were already a bit of an off putting texture, and the thought of having them cold later on…
“Just toss it…” He muttered as he turned and shoved the plate in her direction. Aspen hesitantly took it and walked off. Garrett sighed once she was out of sight. His gaze turned to the door. He knew he’d long overstayed his welcome. With pressed lips and furrowed brows, he opened the door and went outside. He flinched in the light, and he took a minute to adjust.
Once the sun quit ripping apart his retinas, he glanced around a serene land of trees and a long dirt path. Just off to the side of a house was a shiny metal contraption with four rubber wheels with metal centers, a major contrast to the towering trees and filtering light. Chickens clucked and cawed in the background, and birds chirped from branches on occasion. Garrett stepped off of the front porch and began to wander down the dirt path.
The path led to a black stone road stretching on almost infinitely in either direction. With nowhere else to go, he decided to just go left. It likely wouldn’t matter. He trundled along the straight road for a while, glancing at the trees and foliage. It was far more than he’d ever really seen in his time, surprisingly. He only paused when he saw another metal carriage barreling down the road. He squinted as it quickly caught up to him, and he made a dash for the ditch to his left. As he hit the dirt, a loud horn blared past him, along with someone yelling, “Get off the road, you fucking idiot!”
He looked back up a moment later to find that the carriage was no longer there, but instead a small dot in the distance. The thief let out a shuddering breath. He was so close to being trampled by the machine…
____________________________________________________________________________
Garrett continued walking for hours before realizing he was likely lost. He’d seen the same trees over and over again, and he felt like he’d been running in circles without ever making a turn. He let out a breath and turned around. “What did that sign say?” he muttered to himself as he squinted up at the sun, which was now high in the sky. He looked back down to the long, never ending road and sighed. He likely wouldn’t survive out here. Not for long, at least. The eggs and toast he’d eaten this morning were long gone by now. With a groan, he began to retrace his steps back to the dirt pathway.
He passed countless signs every few hundred feet. 2764, 2766, 2768… He kept up a slow pace until he saw a sign that said 2784. That was the one he exited hours ago. Plus, the poled up box looked the exact same. He turned onto the path and continued his journey. Passing the same trees once again as the sun continued to lower towards the hidden horizon.
The house was still the same as it was hours ago. Not like it’d change that quickly, though. Garrett stared at the black door and brown exterior with contempt. Asking for shelter was the last thing he wanted to do, but, with no signs of civilization aside from here, it was necessary.
He walked up to the nearest window and pulled out the crowbar he had on him. He shoved the curved end underneath the window before pulling down and prying the window open. Once it was open enough, he slipped his hand underneath and raised it up. As he began to climb through, he saw the worst possible thing.
“Can you not work a fuckin’ door?” Aspen asked as she stared at him. “The fuck is wrong with you, idiot! And where the hell have you been?!” He blinked a couple of times before slowly starting to back out of the window. “No, no, you’re already halfway through. You might as well commit to the bit.” Garrett, while confused, climbed back in. His hands trembled with a lack of nutrition and hydration.
“You still look like shit.”
____________________________________________________________________________
Garrett once again settled onto the couch as the sun set. In his hands was a plate of pork, potatoes, and creamy pasta, along with a chilled glass of water resting on the side table. A feast for kings, resting right in his hands. He had watched Aspen cook, which still confused him. Regardless, she was wonderful at it. A true craftswoman at heart. Her swift movements, her ‘digital timers’ to keep track of time, her soft mutters as she seasoned each slab of pork…
It was strange. A luxury he never truly had. Between the orphanage, prison, and living on the streets… He couldn’t remember having such wonderful meals. The pork was juicy and flavorful, the mashed potatoes were buttery, the pasta tender and the complementary sauce thick and creamy.
Once again, he couldn’t quite finish it, but there was still some of the pasta and potatoes left on the stove. Garrett furrowed his brows. Surly Aspen wouldn’t waste this much food. Upon hearing some relatively quiet footsteps, he saw her stepping down the stairs, an empty plate in her hands. She passed him on her way to the kitchen, where she placed the plate down in the sink. He watched as she grabbed two glass dishes with lids, and how she placed the extra food into the individual containers.
“What’re you doing?” Garrett finally asked. Aspen glanced up at him, her head tilted.
“Putting up the leftovers? What else?”
“Why? You made more than you need, and it’ll be disgusting later when it’s cold.”
Aspen furrowed her brows. “You know you can reheat food, right? You’re supposed to reheat leftovers, actually.” That threw him off. Reheating? Since when? The orphanage never heated up any leftover food, assuming it was even heated to begin with. Garrett shuddered at the thought.
“What do you mean?” he asked softly, his own brows looking to merge into one.
“Like… jus’ toss it in the microwave ‘till it’s hot. That’s what I do. I usually take leftovers to work with me for lunch.” So she did work. And what in the world was a microwave?
Garrett looked at his own plate. “Does it still taste the same? When it’s heated again?”
Aspen shrugged. “Generally, yeah. Depends on what it is, but I usually don’t notice a difference.”
He stood up and brought his plate to the kitchen. He stared down at the slightly shorter woman, the plate held up just under his chest. Both parties blinked at each other before Aspen spoke up. “You want me t’ put that up for you?” Garrett glanced down at the plate, then back up at her.
“I’ll take that as a yes…” She took the plate, grabbed a third container that was divided down the middle, and began scraping the food into it. Then, all three containers were placed in the big metal box that she referred to as a ‘fridge’. Satisfied, Garrett returned to his place on the couch, and Aspen returned to the upstairs area, likely to get ready to sleep. The thief was out almost instantly, lulled by the sound of crickets just outside.
RunAway_Bishop on Chapter 1 Wed 15 Jan 2025 02:13AM UTC
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