Work Text:
"I need a favour."
Fate winced at the jolt of pain that spread up her leg. The bandaged calf was tightened by the doctor's skilful hands, albeit a little too tight. He began to tie a knot into the material, hoping to keep the wound at least a little clean from the woman's unpredictable Gift.
"A favour? You've never come to me with that kinda stuff before, Russ." She leaned forward on the tall bench she was sitting on, resting her elbow on her knee and her chin on the palm of her hand. "You need me to do some good ol' fashioned intimidation? I feel sorry for the poor soul who has angered the town's newest doctor. Gods forbid they don't fall ill, huh?"
Russell stood up at her words, wiping his hands on his trousers as he reached for a washcloth. Fate watched him with interest, noticing the lack of his normal personality. Be it the cocky attitude when he was annoyed or the awkward aura he gave off when he wasn't working.
"How good are you at forgery?"
Huh. That was new.
"I took you for a man of legitimate business, Russ. What's changed?" Fate pondered, tilting her head. Russell met her gaze, his eyes slightly dark and mouth tilted down in a frown. Even the lack of sleep on his face seemed more prominent.
Oh, he's actually serious.
"I am. A man of legitimate business, I mean. I just... I need a letter written for me. I know you're good at that kind of stuff." Russell responded, wringing his hands in front of him. The words "shady business" went unsaid between the two.
Markus cannot do it for you; she wanted to say. Doesn't he write all your letters for you anyway? Why would he not help now?
Because he would probably disagree with the request, her mind so helpfully provided.
"Who's handwritin' do you need me to forge?" She asked instead, watching the auburn-haired man sigh in relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing. Without answering, the man left the room, closing the door behind him to ensure no one would enter while she was inside.
Fate listened as the man rummaged around in the other room. She could hear a locked drawer click open; the sound of papers flicking through before the cupboard door was closed. Russell muttered something to himself, causing his service dog, Caleb, to bark happily.
The handle to the door pressed down forcefully as a pair of paws opened it. With a nudge of his head, Caleb entered the room, long limbs striding and tail wagging up a storm behind him. Fate smiled at the Great Dane, eyes leaving the dog and returning to the owner.
"I hope this is enough to base it off. I don't have many letters from him in this house; I left most of them back at my old residence, but..."
This handwriting...
This is...
"Virgil's? Why do you need me to forge Virge's handwritin'? You could just ask him yourself. Y'all are close enough as it is." Fate read through the four letters she had been given. They were nothing interesting, just Virgil talking about plans for Blindhollow. She could gather that the letters were quite old, written when Virgil still lived in Venompeaks, she guessed.
"I doubt he would approve of my request," Russell laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, "I hoped you would do it instead so I would not have to deal with the lengthy lecture."
Fate paused, watching him for a moment, "Y'all are startin' to scare me a little, Russ." She chuckled. "I mean, I'll do it as thanks for you patchin' me up, but that doesn't mean I'm not curious about your... Your personal life."
Russell seemed to search her face for something.
He sighed.
"You promise you won't tell Mr Holloway?" He questioned.
Fate nodded once.
Russell took a deep breath.
"I need you to inform Mr McDermott and Mrs Lector that I- that their son has accidentally died in a stray gunfight."
"What the fuck!? No!! Why-" Fate swore, getting to her feet quickly. Russell took a step back, shoulders raising in fright. Caleb had begun to growl from where he lay on the ground near the left wall, sensing his owner's fear.
Fate took a deep breath, counting to three in her head, "Why would I do that, Russell? Why not just ask Markus to write them a letter to tell them that you're safe, but don't want to talk to them anymore?"
"They would know that something is wrong," His response was calm. A little too calm. "I have not responded to any of their letters since I was seventeen. Four years, Fate. If I suddenly decided to write back to them now, they would realise something was wrong, and they would come and visit me, and they-"
His words seemed to catch in his throat. His emerald eyes glistened with unshed tears before he screwed them shut with a shaky exhale.
"T-They are unaware of the things I have lost. I-I do not want them to p-pity me. I would rather they move on and think I was- that I was dead."
"Your arm."
Fate's words were direct. To the point. If Russell wrote the letters with his left hand, any parent would be able to tell the scruffy print was not normal for their child. They'd fear that he was in trouble. If Markus wrote it, then it would be suspicious. Unknown handwriting would make any parent worry about the whereabouts of their son.
But Virgil...
Virgil was the one man that Russell trusted. If he wrote to Russell's parents about the outcome of their son...
Surely they would accept that as the truth...
"But..." Oh. She should not have met Russell's eyes. She shouldn't help him with something like this. He's a human. He can handle this himself, but...
Fate sighed, "I'll do it, but you have to tell me what to write, deal?"
"T-Thank you... Thank you so much, Fay."
Stupid humans and their constant need for favours.
"Don't mention it. Where should I start?"