Chapter Text
November 1st, 1:25 am
Tabby sat at the bar, her eye drooping, clutching the drink in her hand. A few people had come up to her before most of the staff asked her if she was alright, but she brushed them off telling them she just was a bit restless. It had been at least an hour after closing and the janitor was sweeping up the floors. Glancing over at her occasionally as she wobbled in her seat. “Ma’am? Are you alright?” They asked, setting the broom against a wall and walking towards her. Sitting down in the chair next to her.
“... Yeah just out of it. Y’know how it is… Just… Just give me a minute and I’ll be out of your hair.” He replied, rubbing his eyes. Sitting up in the seat. He looked over at the friendly janitor who gave him an awkward smile. He shuffled off the chair chugging the rest of the liquor and setting the drink on the counter. He quietly pulled out his wallet handing the janitor 20$, “H-here… A sorry for causin hic ya trouble.” Before the janitor could argue or reply he was out the back door.
The slam of the door was so loud that he barely registered the noise of someone trying and failing to scramble to their feet just in front of him.
POV - Bob
Bob came to his senses in the middle of the street. Blood pooled beneath him. His entire body was sore and in pain. He clutched his side feeling the bullet holes across his body. And slowly got to his feet. He couldn’t hear any screams of terror or those two police anywhere so he assumed the coast was clear. He spotted a nearby alleyway and began limping toward it. He couldn’t go back to jail or gods knows where they’d put him this time. So hiding in an alleyway was his best bet.
Once he got out of sight of the street he collapsed behind a bag of trash groaning in pain. Adrenaline he didn’t even know that had been kicking in and wearing off. He curled in a ball trying to stop the bleeding. He tensed up when he heard a door open and slam shut just a few feet away. His eyes widened, as his vision started to blur. He painfully tried to get to his feet but fell over again seeming to catch the attention of whoever it was. He could barely make out the outline of a pair of black boots as unconsciousness swallowed his mind.
When he eventually came too he found himself nicely bundled up on a soft cushion, bandages wrapped around his body. Keeping him from bleeding everywhere. He thought he was in a hospital and quickly jerked into a sitting position only to find himself unrestrained. His mask set on a coffee table beside him, he slowly realized that he was in someone's house on their couch. A smile crept onto his face as he rose to his feet and reached into his pocket he pulled out his knife which this idiot of a person forgot to take off of him. That or they didn’t think to check. The sound of water boiling drew him toward the kitchen.
He peered inside, spotting a person standing near the stove. Their hair was almost jet black and they were wearing quite strange clothes to just lounge around the house. He raised an eyebrow slightly confused by their attire but shook his head getting back to his original plan. He silently crept closer to the person reaching out and grabbing them by the hair. Nails digging into their scalp. He pulled them away from the stove, raising his knife to stab them only for them to grab the arm with his knife and swiftly bring it down onto their knee.
There was a sickening crack as pain shot through his body and he screamed, falling backward. Dropping the knife. He quickly kicked at the floor pushing himself away from the freakishly strong stranger. They turned back to the stove, turning it off quickly before looming over him. Staring at him with a single, wide, bloodshot eye. Grasping the collar of his shirt pulling him close to their face.
“Now that’s not a polite thing to do to the person who saved you from bleeding out in an alleyway.” They hissed, tightening their grip on the front of his shirt. They looked down at his now broken arm letting out an annoyed ‘tsk’, “I’ll fix that later. Go wait on the couch. I don't feel like reboiling that water.” They pulled him to his feet, giving him a light shove toward the living room.
He hesitantly went and sat down on the couch, hissing in pain as he lightly ran his fingers over where his arm had been broken. Bob clutched his arm slumping down in the seat occasionally looking over the back of the couch at the kitchen doorway. Who is that?... They seem familiar somehow… He rubbed his eyes, still tired even after he had been sleeping for an unknown amount of time. He wanted to get out of there, but the police were probably trying to locate him. His best bet was to remain here. Lie low… He could always try to kill them again later.
But with the arm his dominant hand was on, broken. He wouldn’t do that now. Plus they could be useful to him. They knew who he was. He had been all over the news. And yet they still chose to help him. Very interesting. He felt tense when they suddenly sat down next to him. Putting a bowl on the coffee table. They reached over, grabbed the remote, and flicked the tv on. Barely glancing over at him they clicked through different channels.
“... Why did you..?” He started, clenching his pants and glancing at the floor.
“Why did I take you in? Simple, you were a nice guy. I felt bad. I was a little drunk… And I decided to just roll with it.” They finished, grabbing the bowl of soup. Scooping up the noodles with the fork and shoveling them into their mouth. He stared at them confused, were you a nice guy? He doesn’t remember meeting this person before at all. He looked back at the TV watching the cartoon they had turned on.
“So what’s your name?” He asked, quietly. Looking over at them. From the side profile, they looked… Sort’ve similar to this person he always hung out with at the local arcade… They looked at him, their expression kind of annoyed, but they responded, “Tabby… Tabby mills.” They… No, she. She looked back at the TV, going back to eating her soup. She was so familiar and it kind of hurt that he couldn’t figure out why she was. It was frustrating. He was so lost in gazing at her that he hadn’t even noticed that she had said something. He tilted his head to the side confused, “What..?”
“Are you ready for me to take care of your arm?” She looked over at him and flinched upon realizing how close he was to her. She scooted a little further away. Glancing back to the TV, putting the bowl of soup on the coffee table. “Oh… Uh yeah.” He responded.
It nodded slowly and got off the couch walking off. He watched it until it disappeared into a room. Tabby came out shortly after with some stuff to make a cast and sling. It sat down beside him again looking at his broken arm…
“I can knock you out for this if you want. I’m not gonna be gentle with the whole cast and sling-making.” It stated, bluntly staring at his face. He stared back at it, swallowing the lump in his throat before answering, “I’d rather stay awake…” Tabby slowly nodded, grabbed the sleeve the broken arm was fitted in and pulled it back. Making sure the sleeve cup was pulled up past the break. He hissed, sharply as the pain started to spread through his arm again.
She glanced up at his face observing his expression, before turning her attention back to his arm. Feel the break. Sliding the bones back into place, “Clean break as always.” She muttered under her breath. He tilted his head to the side a bit worried by her choice of words but gasped quietly when she grasped his arm tightly. Another spike of pain shot through him. He was about to lash out when the pressure was released. He looked down and saw his arm nicely wrapped up.
“Now for the sling.” His accomplice mumbled, grabbing the long piece of cloth. He quickly turned into a makeshift sling, not even glancing at his face when he winced. He was focused. Just like he had been when making the cast.
“There… Three months…” Tabby said, collecting the rest of the stuff she hadn’t used, “It will take three months for that to heal.” He finished motioning at his arm. He dropped off the rest of the stuff in a closet and came back to the couch. Staring at him, “... D-don’t you have your own house to go to?..” Tabby asked, clenching his fists, keeping his arms stuck to his sides… He was a bit more awkward than he had been earlier and it was honestly a bit hilarious. He suppressed the smirk and glanced at the TV. “The cops are probably searching for me there. C-could I lie low here for a bit?” He looked back at Tabby who had settled back down on the couch. Sitting a bit stiffly. Staring straight at the TV.
“S-sure… You can stay here, but just… There’s gonna be some rules… Got it?..” He replied, his tone a bit stern. He looked over at Bob, eye narrowed… Man did Tabby switch on a dime between being awkward to cold and serious. It was a bit freaky even for his standards. Bob nodded, looking between the TV and Tabby, “And what would those rules be?” There was a brief pause of silence…
“I’ll figure those out later, but for right now c’mon.” She muttered, getting off the couch. He got up and followed after her. She led him to a small guest bedroom and pointed to it, “If you’re going to be staying here. You’ll sleep in this room. Not the couch. I sleep there most of the time.”
“The couch? You didn’t strike me as the type to sleep on the couch.” He went over to the bed and sat on it. Testing how comfortable it was. It was rather comfortable, nice spring to it. He ran his fingers over the sheets, looking back at Tabby. He was leaning against the doorframe.
“People can be surprising… Anyway, I’m…” He paused, yawning, “I’m gonna go take a nap.” He pushed off the doorway, going across the hall. Bob heard a door open and shut. He looked around the room briefly, closing the door for a bit more privacy. He looked in the closet gazing around the space. If he was gonna hide out here he’d need to go get some of his clothes from his house.
He walked around the room looking at the nightstand, and in different corners. He poked his head out of the room looking around, he slowly crept out to the living room to avoid waking Tabby. He grabbed his mask and went back to his guest room. He stared at it, tossing it onto the nightstand, before pulling off his shirt slowly. He dropped it on the floor next to him. He rolled on his side and rubbed his face. "... I can figure out something tomorrow…"
He stared at the wall trying to figure out why he was so out of it… He should've been quicker, more violent, more lively, but he felt exhausted… It was weird. He looked down at his chest and noticed that all the holes where he had been shot had been sewn and bandaged up. Tabby mentioned being drunk when she had found and he wondered if she had done all this while drunk. The neatness and preciseness of the stitches made him think she had done this before, but that was unlikely.
Maybe she just had a video on the TV showing her how to do it, and while she was drunk she managed to do it… That also sounded very unlikely. This is confusing. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to get comfortable so he could also take a nap. It would clear his mind. He rubbed his eyes and relaxed, closing his eyes and attempting to go to sleep.