Work Text:
It’s hard to know what time it is when you don’t have a watch. You could go off the position of the sun, but that only works during the day, and it very clearly wasn’t day. The best option would be to buy a watch. The second best option was to just get there early.
Astor crouched atop the rafters of the abandoned warehouse, he had been there since an hour after sundown. He would’ve gotten there sooner, but it was a bit of a drive to get there from home. What time did Casey say he wanted to meet up again? Nine? Ten? Maybe nine thirty. Would be great to have a watch right now. Or a phone. But service out in the mountains sucked anyway, so what was the point of a cellphone, really? A watch might be nice. Wouldn’t help pass the time, though.
He turned his ears to the sounds outside. Footsteps, far away, the kind only rubber soles can make, paired with indistinct chatter. Cars even farther than that. A train just within reach of hearing. All disappointments aside from the ever-present chirping of insects. Where there are plants, no matter how sparse, there will be bugs. He listened closer, more precisely, hunting for what he wanted to hear. He found it, underneath all the irritating noises of people, the quiet breaths of sleeping birds. Mostly pigeons and crows, he thought, perhaps a few smaller birds, definitely a handful of hummingbirds with their distinct sound. Nothing compared to home, although hearing pigeons was a nice change.
“Hey asshole!”
Astor clasped at his ears. He didn’t really know what he was expecting from Casey, he was always like this, but that shout was enough to make his ears ring even without listening closely to something else. Listening so closely for the tiniest sounds, however? That made it almost deafening. Astor should’ve been paying more attention to those footsteps he so dutifully ignored.
“Are you gonna get down from there or are you going to keep being the weirdest motherfucker in the county?!”
“Just a second,” Astor said as he tried to stand up. Slowly, carefully, no need to be hasty right now. He just needed to go back the way he came, just a quick leap to one pipe, then another, that one was a bit of a jump before, then onto the metal stairs and-
CRE-ACK
That couldn’t be good. He took a leap off the landing as it tipped off the wall, landing into a roll into laying flat on his back.
“Real graceful, fucknuts. Did they teach you that one in flying school?”
“First off, I don’t know how to fly a plane,” Astor groaned as he sat back up, “second, you’re really mean.”
Casey stood over Astor with the same angry yet smug look he always seemed to have, presumably taking in the few seconds he could be taller than him, “I know I’m really mean, that’s what I need to fucking do to survive here.”
“You already know what I told you, if you need a break you can always-”
“I’m not just going to run off into the woods to avoid my fuckin problems! I have shit to get done!”
“I’m not saying you should run away from your problems, I’m saying that if you’re in danger I can show you where to hide. Also, are you trying to say I’m running away from my problems?”
“You were in the woods to begin with, it’s different.”
“I guess it is,” Astor stood up, checking the pockets of his jacket to make sure he didn’t lose anything.
“The real question is why the hell are you wearing an entire zipped up winter coat in the middle of June?”
“I mean it’s the one thing I actually like wearing,” he unzipped the coat just a little, “That and my shorts”
Casey pulled the brim of his cap down, seemingly dragging his eyebrows with it, “If it weren’t for crack cocaine you’d be a walking masquerade violation.”
“That seems a little extreme. People dress like this all the time.”
“Not without a shirt under the fucking coat they don’t,” Casey forcefully zipped Astors jacket back up, “Anyways I’ve got some fuckin’ ideas and I wanna run em by you because you think differently than me.”
“You could say that again.”
Casey huffed at him and started pulling chalk out of his backpack, one of the big crayola tubs. “Before you ask, yes I need this goddamn much,” he said, pulling out a single yellow piece of chalk, “I have other things to chalk.” He drew out the messiest map of the city possible on the concrete floor, definitely not to scale, “Now if you were the prince where would you hole yourself up? I’m thinking either here, here, or here,” swiftly he drew three small circles on the map. “Uhm. Well,” Astor tried to think of a way to ask what those were meant to be without insulting Casey's map drawing skills, “You know, I don’t come all the way out here too often. Why don’t you tell me what those three places actually are?”
“For fucks sake why do I even bring chalk for you, look here's the Brown Palace,” he tapped a circle with the stick, “he might be there because it literally has palace in the name and he seems like the kind of asshole to be all about that,” he tapped the next circle, “this is Union Station, it’s only on the list because it’s fucking famous or whatever that seems like some prince bullshit,” he tapped the final, largest circle, “and here’s were all the bank buildings are. Feels like a venture thing to me.”
“I feel like these guesses are all just based on your gut feelings and not any actual information.”
“Yeah and what fuckin' information and I supposed to base it on, huh? It’s not like I can just walk up to some cam freak and be like ‘Hey where’s your boss’s boss? I promise this isn’t to stage a revolution or anything’ I’d fucking die. Again.”
“I’m not saying you should do that, I’m saying you should get a spy.”
“And where the hell am I supposed to get one of those?”
“Well,” Astor said as he grabbed a piece of chalk from the bucket, “the last time I was here I heard that Maria has a new friend, and he’s talking to her about the idea of becoming baron.”
“So you’re saying if I give up the baron seat this guy will help? How do we know he’s not just gonna do a fuckin' princedom by another name, huh?”
“Well,” Astor started drawing next to the map, “I think a princedom is the last thing we have to worry about.”
“How come?”
“Watch.”
Casey looked on as he started to draw out a symbol. It was a bit difficult, Astor was drawing this from memory, and it was something he had never actually seen. Still, with just as little precision as Casey used for the map, he quickly scribbled out a king's crown.
“You’re not saying that-”
“I am.”
Casey took his cap off to push back his hair, before yanking it back down onto his head, “Holy shit”
“That’s not all, from what I heard his sire is a recent defect.”
“So you’re saying there’s a possibility this kid is completely lost in the fucking sauce!”
“Well, Maria seems to like him, so he can’t be completely off the deep end yet.”
“You son of a bitch, this might work, where can I find him?”
“He frequents Maria’s place, I think it’s because she’s good at stroking peoples egos, or because she lets basically anyone feed there if they’re quiet about it. Maybe they’re just good friends. I hope it’s that last one.”
“I don’t think I give half a fuck why he’s there, if he’s willing to help us, and I think he’s mostly cool and not going to start a motherfucking death cult, then I want his help.”
“Sounds like you alright,” Astor put the chalk back in the exact spot he took it from. Casey looked at him, then at the drawing.
“Y’know, there’s no one here, you could’ve just said Lasombra”
“To be completely honest with you I just wanted to draw with the chalk.”
“That sounds like you al-fuckin-right.”
Casey packed up the chalk and slung his bag over his shoulder, holding out his fist to Astor, “Rangers ride at dusk?” Astor laughed, trying not to shake his head, “Rangers ride at dusk.” The two tapped fists, unfolding into finger guns pointing at each other. Casey pulled the brim of his cap back down again, “I’ll see you a week from now at ten, or whenever you hear from Maria or her new fuckin' bestie or whatever.”
“I’m not a fan of that ‘or whatever.’”
“It doesn't actually mean shit, it’s just a thing I say”
“Kind of like all that swearing you do?”
“Hey!” Casey playfully punched Astor's arm, “you know for a damn fact that every curse I say means something.”
“Sure it does, kiddo. See you in a week. I have a forest to watch,” Astor tried to leave through a high up window before remembering that the metal staircase that would get him up to the pipes and rafters, and from there that window, was completely bent out of shape. The two of them awkwardly left through the same door together, not acknowledging the fact they had basically just said goodbye.
Astor climbed into his old truck, taking a few tries to get it going. When it finally roared to life he saw the time on the little cassette player built into it. Eleven fifteen. Plenty of time to get home, probably even time to hunt if he wanted to. It was nice to know what time it is, maybe he really should get that watch.