He isn't sure how it'd happened, how he'd been practically flying down the road to visit Freak Lake one minute and his bike was knocking into the corner of a building taller than any in Clayton County the next, but it isn't in John's nature to dismiss the obvious. No, John is all about the small details, the little things, the things that most
(
Read more... )
"Ah." Fletch pauses for a moment, giving John a quick once-over. He looks mostly okay, but Richard looked okay, too, and he turned out to be suicidal. "So... you're alright, then?"
Even if he says he is, Fletch may not believe him. He can't imagine anyone being alright after falling-or biking-through a rift.
Not that John knows that's what happened, but...
Reply
"Where am I?"
If the man started giving him streets, he was probably just a normal citizen and it was a case of some sort of transportation. If the man started explaining about the city itself, this person was probably in league with Nobody and Foreman because that would just be weird.
Reply
This is not a conversation to be had across an entire street. Fletch dodges an oncoming car and jogs over to John's spot on the sidewalk, stopping a few feet in front of the boy. "Chicago."
Pause.
"Y'probably have questions, aye?"
Reply
Someone volunteering information strikes him as suspicious, but he has to work with what he has. Asking a random stranger on the street won't get him home, unless of course he can take down whoever'd brought him here. After all, getting home might just be undone otherwise.
The whole thing has him unbalanced, though. Chicago. It's a massive city, a hive full of busy little bees and massive buildings and dark alleys and quiet rooms. He can't help but think of how many people there would be who could disappear and never really be missed, but he banishes such thoughts.
I am John the Brave, the demonslayer, transported to a magical, unfamiliar world.
"That goes from the realm of understatement right into 'duh' territory."
Reply
"Anyway, I'm Fletcher. I will not be your guide to the city, but what I can tell you is this: you biked through what's known 'round these parts as a 'rift.' You are now in Chicago and there's no going back. And to spare you the shock of what you might encounter later, this place is filled to the brim with angels and demons and creatures of all sorts. I'm an Archangel."
Really, Fletch should never, ever, ever greet people.
He squints at the boy before him, head tilted a few degrees to one side, waiting for a reaction.
Reply
It was lot of information, after all. A lot to digest. No going back. That meant that Clayton, his mother, his sister, Brooke... all of that is gone. He waits for Mr. Monster to scratch at the door, for his temper to flare, for something and nothing comes.
As before, John the Brave steps up.
"Demons?"
That's what he focuses on. Demons.
And he doesn't look scared.
Reply
Fletch notices John's lack of freaking out and promptly arches an eyebrow. "I take it they have those, back wherever you're from?"
It's either that, or it hasn't sunk in yet.
For some reason, he's betting on the latter.
Reply
Sinking in is hard to gauge with John. Has he intellectually acknowledged it? To a degree, yes. To another degree, he's going to test this and make sure and find evidence to support it or deny it. Emotionally, all he's feeling is a faint echo of loss and a touch of worry. Would his prey come to Clayton and harm people he cared about?
Maybe they'd be safer without him there. Maybe this was for the best.
She already left me.
He'd like to say he's worried for his mother, and on some level he is, but as there's nothing he can do, it seems, and he seemed to cause more stress to her than anything else, he almost wonders if this is for the best there too.
Reply
He rubs the back of his neck. This is aaaaawkward.
"So... what's your name, kid?"
Reply
"John."
Which really is his name, plain as it is.
"And yours?"
Reply
"Y'know, John, that's the kind of attitude that I bet'll get y'killed out here. I'm only tryin' to help." To an extent.
Reply
"You mean the part where I'm supposed to just trust some guy I've only just met after I manage to slip through a dimensional Rift into a completely different world?"
And he has to really work at it, really work at putting on the smile and getting out the compliment because he's got the mental image in his head of stabbing the man over and over and over again in the face with his Swiss Army Knife and he will follow his own rules even if reality at large hadn't deigned to do the same lately.
He'll even make sure his hand isn't straying near his pocket.
"Though I... appreciate you telling me the city."
Not quite a compliment, but something nice all the same.
Reply
"I'll help y'get somewhere safe, if you'll trust me to do that much. If not, well. You're on your own. And 'on your own' is not something y'wanna be out here."
If John wants to get himself killed or eaten or any combination of terrible things, that's just fine with Fletch. It's not like he's a Guardian; watching over people is not his job.
Reply
Foreman had called himself and what had once been Mr. Cranston gods. He called them demons. Maybe someone, somewhere had called them angels. Who could say?
"And if the same person telling me he's an angel says that angel's can't lie? You realize how this sounds, right?"
But the guy did have a point. After all, all he has is his bike, the money in his pocket (which isn't much), a cellphone that's just become even more useless, his Swiss Army knife, and the clothes on his back.
He's really glad he has the knife.
"Where's 'safe'?"
'Safe' had better be somewhat public. After his last experience, there's no way he's going with a stranger anywhere private.
Reply
That's a good question, though. Safe. Fletch wants to take John to the Conrad with the other Wanderers, but since the basement was recently attacked, he's not sure John will like that. He frowns, looking to the horizon for some sort of answer. "Well... there's a hotel you can stay at for free. With lots of others like you." The silent 'but' at the end of that sentence hangs in the air between them. He hopes John doesn't notice it.
Reply
Knife is in hand. Knife is in hand and held down low before he even realizes it. Some corner of him is annoyed that he could do things like that, be on autopilot, but he's not about to scold Mr. Monster for self-preservation instincts. Not right now, anyway.
"What's 'like me' in your estimation? Because if it's 'annoying teenagers', I'd rather risk the demons."
Though a free hotel might be the best thing, he admits if only to himself.
Reply
Leave a comment