Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He was always destined for the stage.

Toiling away in some dingy, filthy and noisy construction site wasn’t where his potential would die, whittling away while his passion decayed in the very same pothole that he was filling in.

The blistering sun wrung out every drop of sweat from his pores as he smeared asphalt over the gravel stuffed hazard, his trowel smoothing out the patch.

The construction worker huffed, his back aching from the constant bending that his miserable job demanded.

He perked his head up amidst all the noise of cars dashing through the other lane of the highway, turning to face his project manager who called out for him.

“Hey, Artful! Hurry up with that patch and get to repairing those barriers! You’re the only one behind and I’m not trying to stare at an unfinished wall before lunch break.”

Artful frowned, his eyes narrowing in irritation at his supervisor’s directions. The civilian knew that his fellow construction workers were snickering or cracking a smirk over his incompetence.

He has had to listen to how slow, weak, and weird he is from everyone. Not to mention his French nationality was unique. However, the definition of unique to him translated to bizarre for others.

“Artful” wasn’t his real name to the other workers. But to him, it was the title of the performer that society forced him to hide, bound to the menial labors of the working man.

Instead of wasting his life clutching a trowel, building or repairing whatever crumbling structure required maintenance, he should have been performing in a lavish monochrome suit, tipping his top hat to his audience and bestowing a gift of white doves from the magical hat.

A wand should have been in his grip rather than a tool. There should be a deck of cards in his pocket rather than an assortment of screws in his apron.

He wanted an assistant to support him in his astonishing performance, and an audience to appreciate his impressive tricks. But his job that he despised kept him grounded and prevented his true ambitions from soaring.

“Yes, yes, I’m on it.” He grumbled, returning from his dreams to reality. He placed a palm on the hot surface of the road to push himself back to his feet, instantly regretting his choice once the searing asphalt briefly turned his palm red.

“Oh mon Dieu.. this weather is disgusting. Why did these fools design the uniforms to be black..”.

Naturally, black absorbed heat. The black hardhats the construction company provided were practically heaters designed for the head. The dark shirts and pants were included in the dress code as well, adding more insult from the heat.

Artful sighed, trying to alleviate the unbearable temperature for a moment, fanning himself with his hand and using his arm to wipe the sweat off from his face before making his way over to the barriers.

The concrete dividers separating the two sides of the highway had certainly seen better days. Time and climate had weathered away the material, rusting it until it was a dirty brown hue with large chunks missing from the barrier.

Fortunately, a bucket of concrete repair was already at the barrier, waiting to be given a purpose. Artful knelt down, peeling the lid off of the bucket and discarding it to the side.

Unbeknownst to him, another worker was hauling a heavy bucket of hot asphalt rather than using equipment to safely transport it, completely violating safety regulations.

The civilian’s arms were trembling as he tried to carry the bucket in front of him by its handle, curling his fingers tighter around the flimsy plastic grip as he held it awkwardly with both hands.

Scooping a glob of concrete mix from the bucket onto his trowel, still kneeling in the road, Artful had no time to react, only hearing a loud curse followed by an immediate blistering pain erupting from his skin.

He dropped everything, howling in anguish with a wildfire of French curses as the now half full bucket of hot asphalt fell on him, striking his back before spilling all over the ground, the original carrier dropping it in a panic.

“Shit! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.. I— let me get someone!” The worker scrambled as he apologized while Artful merely screamed over him, the burns causing possibly the worst suffering he had ever experienced.

The careless worker soon ran off to notify the supervisor of the emergency, leaving Artful on the ground in agony.

“Imbecile..!” Artful hissed, his eyesight trembling as he hyperventilated with distress. He didn’t want to look at his arms or shoulder where he knew most of the material landed.

Tissues of skin were being chewed through by the second with the affliction so intense that Artful’s consciousness was wavering. And the smell of burning skin almost made him puke on the spot.

Against his own warnings, he screwed his eyes shut, sucked in a heavy breath, and turned his head to look at the injury.

The last thing his mind registered was the nauseating sight of his own flesh until his vision blurred, fainting after he heard someone shout to call an ambulance.

Time moves fast for someone who is unconscious. Artful had no clue what transpired after the accident, oblivious to the blare of sirens from the speeding ambulance, to the paramedics carefully lifting him onto a stretcher, hoisting him into the patient’s compartment.

He was unaware of it all. Momentarily freed from the trifles of the real world, his thoughts would assemble into his fantasy of magic. Artful’s imagination ran wild like the rabbits that scurried across the stage.

His heart raced with anticipation, excitement threatening to burst at the seams before performing a simple vanishing act, flicking his cape and disappearing before the audience’s eyes.

Artful would dream and dream, almost finding his world of fabricated success to be a more satisfying option than waking up to a world of hurt. But a voice insisted on disturbing his moment of rest.

He stirred in and out of consciousness with blinding white lights assaulting his recovering senses. Artful would have expected the aftermath of his burns to jolt him awake with the pain biting into every inch of his body, but he found the exact opposite.

Once he awoke, he found himself lying in a hospital bed in a clean white room. Looking down at his figure, he pinched the light cloth of the hospital gown he was wearing with a frown. He swore that he could never rid himself of tacky attire.

Despite that, his body did not hurt at all. Artful reached to touch his shoulder where the asphalt had initially landed, shocked to feel the sensation of smooth skin without an ounce of pain.

“Mr. Artful? Are you awake now? That’s a relief. I was worried Esterflowers’ potion had some unknown side effects.. Other than that, how are you feeling?”. Artful said nothing, looking around the room briefly to take in his surroundings.

On the nightstand next to his bed was a vase with a fresh lily of the valley. The white bell shaped flowers complimented the minimalistic room nicely. Apart from that, nothing else was particularly interesting.

He observed the doctor, taking note of the man’s warm smile, feathery head wings, and comically large nurse’s cap atop his head. The doctor tilted his head slightly, still awaiting a reply from his quiet patient.

“Mr. Artful?”

“Just call me Artful.” He finally responded with a frown. “What did you do that patched me up so quickly? Third degree burns don’t vanish in a single day.” Medicine was entirely different from magic.

No doctor, no matter how skilled, was incapable of erasing injuries. The doctor smiled, reaching into his coat pocket to retrieve a glass bottle with a red liquid inside and a heart sticker on it.

“This instrument of the medical field is the solution to everyone’s physical ailments. We call it the healing potion.” The doctor paused, his smile faltering into a small embarrassed frown. “We haven’t come up with a proper name yet.”

Artful raised an eyebrow. “So it’s miracle medicine. What’s even in it? How am I supposed to believe that the mystery medicine is safe?” He asked, skeptical of the doctor’s claims.

“Esterflowers and I both developed it. She’s a botanist who knows everything about plants, herbs, all of those lovely fields. We worked together to create a safe potion that not only treats wounds with an immediate effectiveness, but serves as a fertilizer too. Though that last idea was on her terms.”

He scoffed. “So your patients are plants.”

“Not exactly.” The doctor chuckled. “I can tell you’re suspicious, and you have every right to be. Here, I’m not exactly supposed to do this, but if it makes you feel better..”. He trailed off, approaching Artful’s bed at his side and pulled back the sleeve of his coat.

Artful watched in confusion as the doctor scraped his own arm until it bled slightly. He then applied a portion of the healing potion to the wound, displaying the instant repair of his minor injury to the patient to prove its authenticity. Artful had to admit, he had never seen anything like it.

“Your wounds are completely healed, so you can leave any time you’re ready. Sorry about the gown though. Fortunately we provide fresh clothing for our patients after recovery, so I put them at the foot of your bed. I hope you don’t mind green.”

Artful began to experience a pang of guilt for his behavior towards the doctor. He has grown accustomed to being treated differently by everyone, including civilians who were supposed to be kind. “Green is fine. It’s my favorite color actually.”

“Ooh, so we have something in common!” The doctor expressed with a smile. “If I could design these rooms, I would decorate it with so much green. The only thing I was able to add were the flowers.” Artful looked at the flowers at his side again.

Lily of the valley flowers represented happiness and purity. The doctor and the flowers both seemed to represent those two meanings with how compassionate the medic was.

“Um..” Artful would hesitate. “Sorry about everything before. I’m not used to being treated like this.” He said as he pushed the sheets off of himself and climbed out of the bed.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Artful. I’ve had patients who have given me plenty of grief. I completely understand your frustrations.” The guilt still chewed away at Artful. How could someone so kind actually exist?

“Right.. I think I’m going to get changed now, so I suppose you should head out now.” He indicated as he reached over to pick up the neatly folded attire.

“Alright, well I hope you have a good rest of your day! And don’t worry about your medical bill. Your employers said that they would cover it.” The doctor beamed and waved goodbye to Artful, heading towards the door to give Artful his privacy. Before he left, Artful stopped him.

“Sorry, before you go, I need to know. Did you think my name was weird when you looked at my identification?” Artful immediately gave himself a mental punch to the face. Insecurity emanated from him in abundance after his strange question. He cringed at his own actions until the doctor replied.

“Your name? What’s wrong with it? I’ve never seen anything like it! You should cherish that unique name, Artful.” He would be lying if he denied the heat blooming in his face. Artful’s cheeks were shifting into an innocent pink, caught off guard by the rare compliment.

“Was there anything else you wanted to ask before I go?” Artful cleared his throat, an attempt to ignore the blush in his face.

“I never got your name.” The doctor quietly gasped, surprised at himself for forgetting a simple introduction.

“Oh, sorry. I can’t believe I forgot.” He apologized sheepishly.

“My name is Caretaker.”

Chapter Text

Ugh, this is so weird. He’s going to think I’m a creep.

Clutching a bouquet of flowers in his nervous hands, his fingers curling tightly around the paper wrapping that united the vibrant flora. He paced back and forth in front of the hospital with his eyes glued to the sidewalk, occasionally drifting off to glance at the bushes that decorated the entrance. 

Going through the trouble of purchasing the flowers from a florist rather than a premade partially wilted bouquet from a supermarket amped up the price by a ludicrous sum. The florist’s expertise combined with the expensive price knotted delicately with a frilly ribbon surely made up for the difference in points, right? Artful would tell himself anything to convince himself that the effort was worth it.

Ultimately, they were a gift. A thank you to Caretaker for his patience and kindness. An extension of Artful’s gratitude, paired with the underlying guilt he felt for acting so snappy towards the doctor. Artful halted his prolonged pacing to gather the courage to walk through those doors and head to Caretaker’s office.

Hastily brushing off his clothes, he made sure that he looked presentable. Artful couldn’t help but shudder at the recent thought of the hospital gown he had awoken to the previous day. Blessed with the powers of free choice, Artful had assembled his wardrobe consisting of a white dress shirt, green cardigan, and brown dress pants. His attire fell between the lines of casual, yet appropriately formal. 

Artful had briefly pondered whether or not to wear a suit and tie, but he was visiting to bring Caretaker a gift, not ask him out on a date. Besides, that luxury suit was reserved for special occasions. The marvelous stage he dreamed of was where it would shine, complimenting him, the centerpiece standing on that marvelous stage. It would also be jarring to see a man caked in white foundation as if he were a mime. For now, Artful’s makeup prowess would stay locked within the privacy of his own vanity mirror.

He shook his head, pushing his thoughts aside as he walked through the sliding doors, making his way to the front desk. The receptionist sitting in their office chair met Artful with a polite grin, diverting their concentration from their work computer.

“Hello, what can I do for you today?” They took notice of the flowers in Artful’s hands and connected the dots. “Here for a visit I presume? Who’s the lucky one to have those lovely flowers?” They asked, impressed by the gorgeous bundle of blossoms in Artful’s hands. 

Artful shook his head. “No, actually. I’m here to give these to um.. Dr. Caretaker? Could you point me to where his office is?” As he questioned the receptionist, he avoided eye contact, too awkward to finish his inquiry before embarrassment bit him.

“Ooh, I didn’t know that Dr. Caretaker was seeing anyone!” They chirped happily.

Immediately panicking, he shook his head in denial. Maybe it was a bad idea to bring flowers as a gift. Artful is already a total wreck by himself. He didn’t need to give anyone else mixed feelings. 

“No, that’s not what—“ His attempts to correct the lively receptionist were quickly cut off.

“He’s right around the corner and down the hall. His nameplate is next to the door so you can’t miss it. I’m positive he’ll love the flowers.” They finished with a smile and returned back to their computer. 

Artful wasn’t able to squeeze a single word of rejection in. He silently sighed, reluctantly accepting the false idea that the receptionist conjured up. It wasn’t worth arguing over, so Artful concluded with a brief courtesy before leaving down the hallway, following the provided directions. 

He passed each door that didn’t have Caretaker’s name, halting once he reached his destination. Approaching the nameplate to get a closer examination, his fingertips traced the golden frame that held the transparent plate, spelling out Caretaker’s name is black printed letters.

Artful studied every detail of the nameplate as an excuse; a reason to wait a few seconds longer before  knocking on Caretaker’s door, a detour from facing the potentially uneasy social scenario playing out in his head. 

Doubt obstructed his train of thought. When he stared up at that door, his heart raced, his fingers trembled like icicles. He felt like a young student, hesitating to enter the principal's office out of fear. 

What if he’ll be unhappy to see me? I think I should go home before I humiliate myself.

From the comforts of his office, Caretaker had heard the shuffling coming from the hallway, so he went to investigate to make sure there weren’t any lost visitors. Just as Artful turned his heel, ready to leave, the door opened with a creak. Caretaker peeked his head out to scan the hallway, perking up when he saw Artful heading out. 

“Artful? Well this is a nice surprise. You know you’re in the faculty offices, right? I could point you to the patient’s area if you’re dropping that beautiful bouquet off.” 

Artful stopped in his tracks, mentally preparing himself to turn around. The civilian was not particularly a shy individual. Rather the opposite, he has behaved in a blunt manner on multiple occasions. Conversation was not his strong suit, so his solution was to avoid the situation as a whole. 

But turning around to Caretaker’s cordial expression that only welcomed Artful with open arms, pulling him into the realm of the bare minimum; common decency, denied him that option. He inhaled quietly, finding his words and extending his arms out, presenting the present of flora to the doctor. 

“Here, these are for you. They’re a small thank you for helping me out yesterday.” Artful lowered his head in a polite gesture to avert his gaze from Caretaker’s own, nervously imagining the backlash and disgusted judgement that he was certain would meet him. Instead, his anxieties were quelled the second Caretaker’s hands grazed his own, looking up as the doctor accepted the bouquet with appreciation. Caretaker held the flowers in his arms almost protectively, studying the vivid array that Artful brought for him. 

“Oh, these flowers..” Artful immediately frowned.

“You don’t like them?” He asked, dejected. 

Caretaker’s head perked up, quick to reassure the civilian. “No! I mean, no, not like that. Sorry, they’re just so thoughtful. I’m not used to this sort of thing.” He admitted, bringing a hand up to hold one of the flower’s leaves. 

“You’ve never received flowers before?” 

Caretaker shook his head. “Not from patients. This is actually the first time.” At this rate, Artful’s mood was soaring up and crashing down like a stock market’s chart with every little motion and sentence that Caretaker made.

“ Oh. ” Artful went silent for a moment. “Is it strange for patients to give doctors gifts?” 

The doctor’s lips curved upwards, shaking his head once again. “It doesn’t matter. The thought is the only part that counts.”

A silent sigh of relief left Artful’s mouth, content with Caretaker’s response towards his gift of gratitude. 

“Don’t think much of it. It was nothing, really.” Artful mumbled bashfully, dismissing Caretaker’s beliefs. 

“Don’t say that, please. Don’t ever discredit yourself.” He extinguished Artful’s cynical ramblings before they could surface, refusing to allow the self-degradation, regardless of how minimal. 

With a slight frown on his face, he gently held the bouquet closer to himself, his smile returning as he looked at the gift again, never growing tired of the severed plant’s aroma or color. “If it’s not a problem, would you like to pick out a vase for these? I’d love to have them on my desk.” 

Caretaker began to head towards his office, waiting at the doorway for Artful to come in as if he had already agreed. With a nod, he went inside, taking a seat after the doctor advised him to rest. He watched Caretaker while he rummaged around the cabinets, opening the dark wood doors to move a few vases on top of his desk, each vessel varying in its material from porcelain, metal, and glass. 

“The porcelain one.” Artful made up his mind without giving the other vases a second glance. There was no competition when such a fine piece of art was sitting directly in front of him.

Surprised by Artful’s sudden answer, he returned the rejected containers to the cabinet with a chuckle. “I didn’t know you were so passionate about ceramics.” Caretaker lightly joked, unwrapping the bouquet from its paper and ribbon to insert them into the vase. Reaching into his coat, he took out the heal potion and poured some of the revitalizing liquid into the vase. 

Shortly after, the closed buds and smaller flowers a part of the bundle began to sprout open and grow. The miraculous burst of life was a spectacle to observe. It was a reminder of the phenomenal talent that Caretaker possessed to be capable of developing part of the potion. 

“I believe that beauty must be recognized. Those flowers only belong in the vase that fits them.” Artful stood up as Caretaker was sitting down in his expensive office chair. “Speaking of beauty, ahem .” Artful balled a fist up to cover his mouth with a cough, clearing his throat of any hesitance that threatened to disrupt him.

Caretaker tilted his head in confusion, watching Artful as he reached over his desk, his hand maneuvering behind his white head wings. With a flick of his wrist, Artful held a lily of the valley in front of Caretaker’s face, drawn from behind his own wings. 

“I forgot to include this in your bouquet. I noticed that you favored them.” His heart was racing, his smirk merely a facade to appear as if his magic were performed with confidence. Caretaker laughed, clapping at a low volume to recognize Artful’s attempt.

“Aw, that’s sweet and all but.. lily of the valleys aren’t my favorite. They’re just my friend’s favorite.” Glass shattered in Artful’s head. If Caretaker had taken the lily from his fingers even a moment later, he would have dropped the flower from how feeble his grip fell. 

“ Merde , should I have just brought a rose instead? I’m sorry, the flowers in the room just made me assume..” The civilian rushed to apologize, the color rushing to his face. 

“Don’t worry about the flower, Artful.” Caretaker tried to appease the man’s frets, noticing the sudden shift in his behavior. “You never told me you were a magician. That flower trick you did was fantastic.” He said with a smile, placing the lily into the vase with the rest of the flowers. 

Admiration was a foreign emotion to Artful. Never once had he been praised nor respected for his efforts. It never occurred to him that it would be possible for someone out there to truly appreciate him. The airy feeling in his chest that seemingly floated upwards like helium flustered him. Enthusiasm motivated him as a grin spread across his lips. 

“I’m not quite there yet.. I’ve always had an affinity for magic, but I haven’t had the time or points to perform a single show yet.” Artful explained, thrilled that someone had finally acknowledged his interests. “I’ve been working construction to meet the bills and invest in equipment, but it’s not enough.” He rambled. “Sorry. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my financial restraints.” 

“No, please continue.” Caretaker sat straight up to give Artful his utmost attention. “In fact, I wouldn’t mind seeing more of your performances. If you need the funding, I could give you some. Supporting small artists is something we should be doing more often anyway.” He suggested generously.

Artful was pleasantly surprised by the doctor’s offer. Someone as dedicated and successful as Caretaker holding out a hand to support him of all people was baffling. Sitting in that chair, staring at Caretaker from across his desk made him feel like less of a guest, and more of a VIP. Caretaker had already been spoiling Artful with troves of kindness, and somehow he managed to keep surprising the civilian. 

“W-well,“ Artful stuttered, “I mean, I wouldn’t deny your offer. You’re the only person I’ve shared this with, but this is my dream. Magic isn’t a hobby or a side hustle to me. It creates passion, fuels me to continue working towards that stage that’s in my reach..” He spoke volubly, elated that Caretaker was entertaining his aspirations.

“ Hmm .” Caretaker pondered, bringing a hand up to his lips in contemplation. “How about this? After work, why don’t the two of us meet up so you can show me more of your talent? I’d love to be your audience all day today, but I do have some work that I must finish.”

The idea caught Artful off guard. The two hardly knew each other and Caretaker was already inviting him to outings? Artful was positive that Caretaker could attend to more important matters than wasting his night with him. But being graced by that amiable expression was proof of Caretaker’s honesty, the genuine desire to get to know Artful as a person. 

“What do you have in mind?” Artful questions, curious about the location Caretaker would decide on.

“Have you heard of that Italian restaurant down the street? They have pasta that’s to die for, and the atmosphere is stunning.” Caretaker explained as he reminisced on the rich interior of the restaurant. 

“Yes, I’m familiar with it..” Truthfully, Artful had never actually dined at the restaurant. He had passed by it on multiple occasions but couldn’t afford to spend his points there. 

“Are you comfortable with meeting me there tonight? Does 7 PM sound good?” 

Artful nodded, a margin of stress stirring within him. What was he getting himself into? The social divide between Caretaker and him was painfully obvious. He was just some construction worker. A nobody civilian. Meanwhile, Caretaker was a skilled doctor, developing medicines that could instantly repair injuries. Artful felt completely out of place when he was in Caretaker’s presence.

Caretaker dragged Artful out of his clouded thoughts. “Then it’s a date.” He casually stated, nearly eliciting a shocked choke from Artful. 

“I wouldn’t put it-“ 

“And by the way, Artful. Feel free to bring me that rose.” Silenced, Artful’s cheeks were starting to flush red. Before Caretaker could notice his apparent blush, he stood up suddenly. 

“Yes, um. I’ll be there, yeah. 7 PM? I’ll see you tonight. Bye—“ Artful rushed out of the office, closing the door behind him without looking back. He briskly made his way out, rushing to leave the hospital and entering his car.

After shutting the car door, he exhaled, reaching up to adjust his rear view mirror to check his own appearance. He rubbed his face, frustrated as he tried to wipe away the warm hue staining his skin. With a sigh, he groaned. 

Did I just get asked out on a date? 

Chapter Text

Observing the world through limited space, confined to the invisible barriers that obstructed the opportunity of experiences was something Artful understood all too well. Sometimes, he felt sympathy towards his dear goldfish. The tiny finned creature, limited to exploring the boundaries of her fish bowl with only fake plants and rocks to call her home. 

Crouching in front of the opaque glass wall of the bowl, Artful studied his reflection, staring at the image of himself while Goldie swam around. Staring at his grimace quickly became tiring. He took the can of fish food sitting next to the bowl and sprinkled a few of the multicolored flakes into the water. Goldie rushed to the surface, gobbling up the soggy morsels ravenously. 

Artful sighed, walking over to his couch and plopping down. In about 20 minutes, he was due for his dinner date with Caretaker. Earlier while watching the television, he had been scrolling through the restaurant’s online menu. Every minute that ticked by dissolved into Artful’s spiraling anticipation, accented with anxiety. The names of the many dishes offered at the high class establishment swirled around Artful’s head, struggling to process each foreign name. 

There was no chance that Artful would admit to Caretaker that he’s never eaten Italian, one of the most common and popular cuisines out there. Artful was accustomed to the simple French pastries and breads along with other major food groups. Though, escargot was never high up on his list of favorite foods. The plate of dead gastropods was frankly an appalling suggestion to his palate. 

Originating from a wealthy family had its perks, but being the middle child negated those benefits. It wasn’t like Artful had been neglected during his childhood, but his two brothers had always been the pride and joy of the family. Family life reminded him all too much of what it felt to be a third wheel. A bystander to those who are supposed to care about him. 

He moved out early due to the stale environment of his home life, refusing to be a leech that feasted upon their resources without any remarkable accomplishments. It was an endless pattern for Artful, always being singled out as the guy who was always lingering. He had a few friends, none of which he would consider to be close connections. Invitations to essentially trail them as a tag along was less than flattering, so Artful’s desire to socialize with them gradually faded. 

Now, he was uncertain. This was his first date. He wasn’t even sure if it was just a dinner date between two friends or two acquaintances. Caretaker and Artful’s current status were far from clear to the hopeless civilian. He had no idea how this outing would turn out and prayed that Caretaker would lead the conversations. The next thing to worry about were his clothes.

Artful went through with wearing his magician uniform to the occasion. His collection of identical top hats that he stocked up on during a sale would have been included in his outfit, but he didn’t think it would be appropriate for the dinner date. Waltzing in with his face bleached in white would also make for a bizarre scene as well, so he refrained from applying makeup. He even spruced up his outfit with a white rose boutonnière.

Checking his phone again for the time, he cursed at himself for getting distracted, realizing how long his thoughts had occupied him. He grabbed his keys and flung out of the door, making his way down a flight or two of stairs, leaving the apartment complex and heading towards his car. 

It wasn’t long until he was speeding out of the parking lot and into the street. To others, he drove like a lead footed maniac, terrorizing the roads. But they hadn’t the slightest clue that the emergency he was facing could alter the trajectory of his life forever.. being late to his first date.

Artful eventually found an open spot to park in the packed lot and exited his vehicle, trying to spot Caretaker. He huffed, realizing he should have asked for the doctor’s number before he fled from his office. If Caretaker offered to spend time with him, then surely he would be comfortable with exchanging numbers?

He didn’t want to spend a second longer trying to locate Caretaker in the sea of cars. He could only hope that Caretaker was already inside waiting for him instead of leaving, thinking that Artful flaked. When he opened the doors of the premium restaurant, he was greeted by the luxurious interior design of the large building. 

Decorative columns lined the dining area in rows with foliage wrapped around each structure, their green vines curling upwards to cling to the ceiling. Each table was dressed in pearly linens with a candle and vase of flowers in the center. The paintings were all unique pieces of art, with each portrait being an individual work purchased directly from the artist, rather than being an accessible print. 

Artful tried to soak in the opulent atmosphere, feeling overwhelmed in such a grand environment. Caretaker had spoken about the restaurant as if its reputation were merely a step above a popular chain restaurant. Artful knew they were going somewhere nice, but not an extravagant mile long check of a culinary experience type of nice.

A light tap on his shoulder alerted him as he turned to face none other than the doctor himself. Artful would have expected to see Caretaker donned with exorbitant apparel. 

“Oh dear, did I overdress?” Comparing his expensive suit to Caretaker’s casual sweater and long coat, Artful wasn’t sure if he arrived with excessive preparations, or if Caretaker simply held no interest in fashion. 

Naturally, Caretaker dismissed his trifling vexations determined to ensure that Artful would enjoy their time together without any predicaments. A tender smile graced his lips as he spoke. “For someone so handsome, you worry too much.” 

The doctor complimented with a half joking, half teasing manner, with his kind expression shifting into an amused grin as he watched Artful break eye contact, bashfully avoiding his gaze. Caretaker ushered Artful to walk along with him to the host stand where the duo was greeted by an employee. 

“Good evening! Do you have a reservation with us tonight?” They asked politely, to which Caretaker replied with a nod. 

“Caretaker, party of two for 7 PM.” He stated, waiting patiently as the employee checked for the reservation. Shortly after, the booking was found, and the host led the pair through the avant dining area, seating them at a clean table and providing them with menus, wishing the two a good experience, departing afterwards. 

Bustling voices and the sounds of metallic silverware clinking against ceramic plates echoed throughout the area. When Artful looked around at the variety of guests, he saw groups toasting, couples sharing food, friends conversing as they relaxed at the fine establishment. He looked at Caretaker, puzzled as to why he had not touched his menu. 

“Is something wrong? You haven’t even touched the menu.” Artful would receive a soft laughter in response.

“I always order the same thing. Don’t let me hold you up though.” Caretaker replied, sliding a menu closer to Artful with the tips of his fingers. 

Even though Artful had studied the menu online earlier, he was still hesitant on what to order. He took and opened the menu, scanning each page and section with scrutiny. The design of the menu presented gilded grape vines with vintage handwriting on each page, offering a refined display to appreciate while browsing the array of choices. 

Cacio e Pepe, Bolognese, Ossobuco..? 

Artful was unfortunately confident that each name he pronounced in his head was being butchered to a pulp. He gulped, trying to process the many descriptions and dishes that he skimmed through. 

“What would you recommend?” He asked, hoping Caretaker’s suggestions would decide for him so he wouldn’t have to painstakingly stare at laminated paper the entire night. 

“Well, do you drink?” The subject of alcohol immediately caught Artful’s interest. He flipped through the menu to find the liquor section.

“On special occasions, yes.” Artful wasn’t a connoisseur when it came to alcohol, but he did have a taste for fine wines. He could settle for almost any quality wine, but to have a sip of an earthy bottle with traces of oak swimming in the fermented grape juice is to die for. 

Caretaker noticed Artful examining the wine section, smiling at the civilian’s answer. “You consider this a special occasion? That’s so sweet..” Artful raised the menu higher to cover his face. If Caretaker persisted with his constant flirtations, Artful may need to reconsider who the charismatic one was. 

Artful silently berated himself, betrayed by his own body’s ineptitude to conceal even the faintest shred of embarrassment as he tried to regain composure over his scarlet tinted face. “Uhm.. It’s only natural to cherish moments with friends.”

That keyword; friends. It warmed Caretaker’s heart to hear Artful, a man he met not even two days ago considering him as a friend. He didn’t know that he would be spending his night with such a charmer.

“Then would you be willing to share a toast with me tonight?” It would mean a lot to Caretaker if Artful would entertain his offer and cement their friendship with an earnest tribute.

“I would be honored to.” Artful settled on a red wine with a name he was not keen on sounding out. An intense wine with a burst of flavors and invigorating description that captivated Artful the moment he studied it in closer detail. “What do you recommend I pair with the wine?” 

Caretaker hummed as he pondered the many entrees of choice. “I always pair my wine with carbonara. The rich and creamy sauce cuts the acidity of the wine. You really should experience it.” 

The pairing sounded quite appealing, but Artful still wanted a moment to lay out his options before finalizing his decision. But time denied Artful the luxury of second doubt as their server arrived with a tray wedged under their arm and a napkin draped over their wrist. 

“Welcome, gentlemen. Are you two ready to order?” Caretaker nodded as Artful reluctantly agreed, relinquishing the menu. 

“I’ll have the carbonara, please.” The server took out a notebook and jotted down Caretaker’s order. They would turn to Artful, awaiting his answer.

Artful swallowed, attempting to ease his dry throat. “I’ll just have what he’s having.” 

With another brief scribble, their server closed the notebook and placed it in their apron. “And will you two be sharing a bottle of our aged wines?” 

“Which wine were you thinking of, Artful?” The doctor asked, trusting in the civilian’s liquor preferences.

Artful pointed to the name of the wine, allowing the server to confirm the drink. 

“Brunello di Montalcino. You have great tastes, sir. I’ll have that out for you both right away.” The pair thanked the server as they took the menus and left, quickly returning to their conversations.

Artful reached into his pockets for a deck of cards. He recalled that Caretaker wanted him to perform more tricks while they were out together. The cards caught Caretaker’s attention as he watched with interest as Artful set them up. The appearance of the deck was strange to say the least. They were black cards with rows of teeth on the back side with rose vines decorating the top and bottom. Despite their odd design, they were one of Artful’s favorite decks.

With a smooth gesture of his hand, Artful held out a row of face down cards for Caretaker to pick from. “Choose a card, any card.” He insisted with a charming smirk.

Caretaker surveyed each card for a moment, choosing one from the center. He checked it, handing it to Artful with a smile once he memorized the symbol. The aspiring magician took the card and merged it back into the deck, shuffling it with experienced hands. Caretaker adoringly followed each action Artful made. He felt like a VIP witnessing a celebrity’s performance with him as the sole audience in the front row seat. A private magic show for him to enjoy and appreciate.

Even performing simple acts like the card trick fueled a fire in Artful’s soul. Magic, no matter how meager it is in skill, made him feel like himself. A charismatic and talented magician with an audience who wanted more was what he was after. Folding cards into a deck was more than playing with paper. It was the ability to present his technique, his prevalent aptitude towards magic.

With that same persona he wore proudly, he held up a card between two fingers, presenting it to Caretaker. “Is this your card?” 

“Yes! Very impressive.” Caretaker clapped his hands in applause gently, delighted to see the ace of hearts in Artful’s grip.

“Naturally.” The deck of cards were returned to his pocket. The night was going surprisingly well, being the complete opposite of what Artful had been stressing over prior. 

Soon, the server was back at their table with a tray in hand, supporting two empty glasses and a bottle of wine. They set the glasses down first, then took the bottle and uncorked it with a pop before pouring a portion of the fermented juice for the pair to sample.

Caretaker held the glass by its thin neck, swirling the deep maroon liquid to aerate it. Giving it a sip, his eyes lit up, overtly satisfied with Artful’s exquisite tastes. “This is perfect, thank you.” Once their server left, Artful filled both of their glasses with an appropriate amount. 

Artful raised his glass, pausing momentarily as he tried to conjure a cause worth celebration. “A toast, to our..” He would hesitate, assuming Caretaker would propose something. 

“How about.. our futures? Yes, a toast to our futures, where we can watch our dreams come into fruition.” Caretaker lifted his own glass, tapping it against Artful’s with a clink.

“Cheers to that.” With the wishes to their wellness out of the way, they could indulge in their beverages, both taking a long drink.

Caretaker closed his eyes as he drank to savor the vortex of flavors grazing his senses, enhancing the taste as he concentrated on the complex juice. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see a white rose in his face, held by Artful’s outstretched hand. 

“You didn’t think I would forget about the rose, did you?” Caretaker smiled, accepting the rose and placing it in the breast pocket of his coat. 

“Now we’re matching.” He said, pointing out Artful’s own flower pin, which earned a laugh from the magician. 

“If you would like one, just ask. I have plenty back at home. More than I know what to do with, really.” Caretaker raised an eyebrow, resting his chin against his palm, leaning his arm on the table with a smug grin.   

“Is that an invitation?” Artful would quickly retort, refusing to spare Caretaker the chance to dominate the battle of flirting. Now that he finally discovered his comfort zone, his confidence was aching to soar and impress his dinner date. 

“My, someone is eager, no? To think I already have such a devout admirer..” For the first time, Artful witnessed Caretaker’s face flare into that red hue that he was all too familiar with. He snickered, entertained by how easy it was to get the doctor to falter. 

“Overconfidence is a subtle killer, Artful. Don’t get too carried away.” Caretaker sighed, partaking of another sip of wine. “Although, I won’t deny that you are quite the spectacle. I think what you do is amazing work.”

It was Artful’s turn to be confused now. He had only completed a single trick so far, yet he was already being praised. Was he truly that marvelous that only one act granted him commandments?

“Would you care to elaborate?” He asked.

“For one, your construction work. Not many civilians are interested in hard labor. It’s a thankless task that deserves more appreciation than it gets.” The longer Caretaker explained, the greater Artful’s mood began to waver. 

“Ah, don’t lump me with that, please. I don’t want to be associated with such a filthy job.” He waved his hand in a motion that begged Caretaker to drop the topic. The subject of his current occupation was always a reminder of reality, the circumstances placed in front of him, blocking his monochrome path to stardom. 

“No, no. You aren’t hearing me out. It’s more than what you’re perceiving it as. I understand that when civilians see you working, they feel irritated. They don’t want an obstruction in their way, blocking their roads or hindering their paths along the town or city that the construction is in.” Caretaker continued.

Gee, that’s reassuring.. The civilian silently said to himself. 

“But that’s what makes you so important. Doing the dirty work so others can live happily is what keeps the world running. Every task you perform, no matter how big or small, will matter to someone. Even if you don’t see it immediately, it will happen at some point. The roads that you maintain could save lives. Those buildings you contribute to provide careers, shelter, and income to those who need it.”

As Caretaker spoke, Artful began to pay closer attention, taking the words of a perspective he had never considered to heart. 

“There’s too much negativity in this world, Artful. But carrying even a smidge of kindness makes a difference, believe me.” Caretaker’s ramble almost felt like a PSA to share kindness, but Artful did begin to reconsider his stance. 

Not necessarily his attitude regarding his job, but his views on life in general. Perhaps not every civilian held animosity towards him. Caretaker certainly didn’t. 

After Caretaker finished his motivational speech, their server delivered their plates to them with decorum, placing the two platters of hot carbonara in front of them. The aroma that hit Artful almost made his stomach growl from the smell alone. He bit his lip to distract his hunger with minor discomfort, taking up a fork to swirl the creamy pasta in between its slots. 

He brought the noodles up to his mouth, hesitating out of an itching feeling of nervousness rising in his chest. It’s something new, something different. He looked at Caretaker, who was already enjoying his own meal with brimming satisfaction. Opening his mouth, he took the risk, biting the spaghetti, and realized.

Caretaker was right. 

The rest of the night went smoothly. Albeit, Caretaker had some complaints to voice with Artful. 

“I would have paid you know..” Caretaker huffed as the two walked out into the illuminated parking lot. Artful couldn’t help but laugh at the pointless protests, considering what had occurred moments ago.

When the server provided them with their combined bill, Caretaker took the liberty of paying upon himself without sparing Artful a chance to offer. Though Artful rejected Caretaker’s persistence to pay, the doctor refused, with his generosity deaf to Artful’s dignity. 

The second Caretaker wasn’t looking, reaching for his wallet and searching for his card, one could say Artful had made the check disappear. Into his own hands that is, with his own card already in the server book before Caretaker could blink.

“Don’t be so upset. I allowed you to tip the server.” Artful replied with a lively tone. 

“Oh, your benevolence precedes me.” The doctor remarked with sarcasm. 

With a sigh, Caretaker pardoned Artful’s trick, forgiving him without a grudge. 

“Well, it’s getting late. I suppose we should head home now.” Truthfully, Artful didn’t want to leave yet. His time with Caretaker has been the only moment where he genuinely felt like himself. A magician, someone who performed to impress. 

“Before you go, could we exchange numbers? I would have asked you when you were in my office, but you ran out so suddenly.” Artful frowned at the recent memory that Caretaker evoked, humiliation threatening to advance. Even so, Artful agreed, entering his phone number into Caretaker’s contact list, and adding Caretaker to his own. 

Artful walked Caretaker to his car, making sure he entered safely. Caretaker smiled at him as he entered the driver’s seat, grateful to him for his courtesy. “Sorry, I almost forgot to mention. I know tonight wasn’t the best way for you to exhibit your talents. If it means anything, I really did enjoy the acts you were able to perform. Maybe later this week you could visit me as Artful. The Artful.” 

The way Caretaker spoke of him as if he were already a shining star gratified the magician. Caretaker made him feel like something special, so who was he to deny his most ardent fan a show?

“Send me a time and date and I’ll be there.” Artful had all the time in the world to spend now that his construction company was compensating him with a huge amount of paid time off after the asphalt incident. He spends a majority of his free time watching television or getting food, so anything related to magic was sure to motivate him.

“Sounds good. I’ll be seeing you.” Caretaker waved goodbye to Artful, smiling as he left the lot, leaving Artful standing there alone. 

Artful’s mind trailed off, fantasizing about the possibilities that awaited his upcoming performance. What kind of tricks and equipment would he bring? And was he prepared to be on stage to an audience that wasn’t his goldfish? Multiple worthwhile questions clouded Artful’s thoughts, until a singular inquiry triumphed over all of them.

Am I out of foundation?

Maybe he should have let Caretaker pay the bill.

Chapter Text

sorry i usually hate making update chapters bc it leads people to think an actual chapter was added.

its been a long time since ive updated due to school and work so id like to apologize.

BUT, i want to reiterate that i am NOT abandoning this work. im still working on chapter 4 at this moment 😊😊

heres a little snippet of what i have in store so far….

The sound of the television emitted throughout the living room, serving as background noise to the homeowner as it played. Sitting on the floor with a soft rug to cushion the cold wooden surface, a peculiar baby had claimed the area in front of the television, staring at the screen with large turquoise eyes. 

“Wouldn’t you rather watch something entertaining?” Caretaker asked, knowing the infant wouldn’t understand what he was saying. He picked up the remote from the table, switching the channel from the nature documentary that the baby was so invested in to a kid’s program with bright colors and cute pictures. 

Its eyes blinked slowly, one at a time, similar to a frog. The baby turned its head slowly, staring at Caretaker with its big eyes. In an instant, it charged at Caretaker, skittering towards him on all fours like an animal. The bizarre baby’s weight couldn’t support its speed, as it slid on the floor a few times while it tried to rush to the doctor. 

It ran to the couch, jumping up and holding onto the cushion with its arms, desperately kicking and flailing its legs as it tried to pull itself up. Caretaker covered his mouth, laughing as he watched the baby struggle to hop onto the couch. He set the remote aside to lift up the baby, sitting it down next to him.

Restless, it stayed put long enough for Caretaker to blink. Before he knew it, the creature had lunged for the remote, clinging onto it like a koala holding onto a tree. It pressed as many buttons as it could, attempting to return the channel to the original documentary that was on a moment ago. The only thing that it was successful with was adjusting the volume and showing the description of whatever channel it landed on.

Caretaker sighed, prying to remote from the baby’s nub-like limbs. He returned to the documentary, gaining the infant’s attention immediately. With its eyes glued to the screen as it moved, it crawled into Caretaker’s lap, getting comfortable as it stared at the educational program.

He couldn’t fathom how or why the odd thing was so invested in the nature documentary. Its eyes twinkled while it observed the predator chasing its prey. Typically, children aren’t interested in boring films about an animal’s survival. But the baby sitting with him was peculiar, staring intently as the carnivore hunted its food, pursuing it in a full sprint chase, until the screen was blurred for censorship once the pursuit was over. 

Allowing a baby to watch a documentary about the realities of nature seemed extreme, but he couldn’t deny his beloved creature its entertainment. He smiled, bringing the baby close in a loving embrace as the two of them watched the television.

BTW AS COMPENSATION, MY FRIEND MURA (murathefool on twitter) DREW ART OF CAREFUL!! PLEASE FOLLOW AND APPRECIATE THEM!!

btw i have a xitter as well… follow me @KHEZUTSUNE for more gay yaoi and slop tweets that i never post

ok bye

Chapter Text

The sound of the television emitted throughout the living room, serving as background noise to the homeowner as it played. Sitting on the floor with a soft rug to cushion the cold wooden surface, a pale headed baby had claimed the area in front of the television, staring at the screen with large turquoise eyes. 

“Wouldn’t you rather watch something entertaining?” Caretaker asked, knowing the infant wouldn’t understand what he was saying. He picked up the remote from the table, switching the channel from the nature documentary that the baby was so invested in to a kid’s program with bright colors and cute pictures. 

Its eyes blinked slowly, one at a time, similar to a frog. The baby turned its head slowly, staring at Caretaker with its big eyes. In an instant, it charged at Caretaker, skittering towards him on all fours like an animal. The bizarre baby’s light weight couldn’t support its speed, as it slid on the floor a few times while it tried to rush to its father. 

It ran to the couch, jumping up and holding onto the cushion with its arms, desperately kicking and flailing its legs as it tried to pull itself up. Caretaker covered his mouth, laughing as he watched the baby struggle to hop onto the couch. He set the remote aside to lift up the baby, sitting it down next to him.

Restless, it stayed put long enough for Caretaker to blink. Before he knew it, the creature had lunged for the remote, clinging onto it like a koala holding onto a tree.

It pressed as many buttons as it could, attempting to return the channel to the original documentary that was on a moment ago. The only thing that it was successful with was adjusting the volume and showing the description of whatever channel it landed on.

Caretaker sighed, prying to remote from the baby’s nub-like limbs. He returned to the documentary, gaining the infant’s attention immediately. With its eyes glued to the screen as it moved, it crawled into Caretaker’s lap, getting comfortable as it stared at the educational program.

He couldn’t fathom how or why the odd thing was so invested in the nature documentary. Its eyes twinkled while it observed the predator chasing its prey.

Typically, children aren’t interested in boring films about an animal’s survival. But the baby sitting with him was peculiar, staring intently as the carnivore hunted its food, pursuing it in a full sprint chase, until the screen was blurred for censorship once the pursuit was over. 

Allowing a baby to watch a documentary about the realities of nature seemed extreme, but he couldn’t deny his beloved creature its entertainment. He smiled, bringing the baby close in a loving embrace as the two of them watched the television.

“Up next, there has been a recent spike in the usage of “Magic Bullet”, a highly addictive drug that’s advertised as a medicine. Sources claim that crime boss, “Valentine” has been responsible for a majority of the manufacturing and distribution of this—“

A drawled sigh fled from his lips, sick of listening to the news report. He shut off the television, tossing the remote to the side of the couch, paying no mind to the device as it bounced across the cushion. 

“Magic Bullet… Psh.” Esterflower and him both devoted their heart and souls into developing the healing potion, a medicine that they were proud of sharing with the injured. It felt insulting to see the public flocking towards dangerous substances rather than confiding to him for assistance. 

Valentine might as well just kick his door down, saunter into his home with his heart shaped sunglasses, that fancy wide brimmed magenta had with a stylish fold, an equally flamboyant fuchsia cheetah patterned fur boa, and that arrogant smirk on his lips as he spun his revolver around his finger, flourishing it without a care.

A mean slap to the face from the perpetrator would have been significantly less offensive than polluting Caretaker’s field with filthy drugs. Caretaker groaned, rubbing his temple in frustration. 

Just stop thinking about it. It’s not worth the stress.

Getting up from the couch, Caretaker walked to the kitchen to scavenge the contents of the refrigerator. A half full gallon of milk was pushed to the side to uncover an old stack of cheese slices.

He grimaced, moving down to the middle shelf to inspect some yogurt that he wasn’t in the mood for. Perhaps he should get to cleaning out and organizing the fridge?

On the bottom shelf was the most pitiful selection of consumables. Although, ‘consumable’ would not be the proper term to describe what had been settling at the bottom shelf.

Multiple sealed containers of old meat were gathered at the lower section, the clear plastic over the styrofoam containers beading with contaminated condensation from the expired meat. 

He didn’t want to touch it. The pain of disturbing one of the few remainders of his child was too heavy a burden to bear. A repulsive brownish-gray hue had overtaken the meat’s original red flesh and white marbling of fat.

It was reduced to an inedible slab of decay and festering bacteria, a shameful waste of an animal’s life and resources. 

A ring from his doorbell echoed across the home, rescuing Caretaker from his momentary grieving. He closed the fridge, speed walking to the front door and looking through the peep hole. A look of joy spread across his lips once he was greeted by his friend.

Even with the magician’s skin covered in white foundation and a black theatre mask obscuring the right side of his face, Caretaker could still recognize Artful’s visage from anywhere. 

Artful, dressed in his magician outfit, with his black too hat, pale skin, and a charming smile to grace Caretaker with its warmth. He opened the door to welcome the performer into his home, stepping aside to allow Artful to enter.

The monochrome magician took a few steps forward, then suddenly flicked his wand in Caretaker’s direction, the end pointed near his face. A bouquet of flowers appeared in a circular arrangement, the stems lodged inside the wand as Artful’s first trick of the afternoon.

Caretaker gratefully accepted the flowers, holding the bundle in both hands close to his heart. Another gorgeous assortment of flowers would spruce up his home with their vibrancy, just as they did his work office. Tonight was going to be wonderful. The doctor just knew it.

“Baby, where have you gone, sweetheart?" The father asked, frantically searching the house, flipping objects, moving furniture, and sending the entire interior into disarray. 

Mere moments ago, he had been playing with his baby, sliding it colorful letter blocks and animal plushies to play with. The condition of the stuffed animals were a cause for concern, with the fur of some of the creatures being torn off, revealing spots of cotton stuffing poking out like a cloudy bump. 

Caretaker was accustomed to supervising the child while it slammed small wooden blocks on the door and chewed on its stuffed animals like a dog, but watching the baby stand up, stick its nubby little arms out, and vanish from reality was a new one. 

A baby full of surprises could propose a myriad of possibilities. Caretaker was rolling down the slope of daily disasters, with his scale weighing closer to the inevitable terrors that the tiny creature brought him. He couldn’t grasp how such an adorable being was capable of inflicting so much stress in so little time.

He opened cupboards, cabinets, pantries, dressers, just about anything with doors or drawers that could potentially be concealing a weird white headed baby. 

Panic was alarming in his head in a cacophony of eruptions. His paternal instincts were in overdrive as minutes flew by, tearing his house apart to the atom to locate his dear child. 

A rattle from the kitchen caught the frenzied father’s attention, bee-lining it towards the cooking area, almost slipping on and landing head first into tiled flooring as a result of his recklessness.

The fridge door was wide open, yet there was no culprit in sight. Investigating closer, sticking his head into the bright automatic illumination of the storage appliance, he discovered an entire steak floating inside, denying the laws of physics. Either he had a haunted steak, or his creeping suspicions have been confirmed.

He reached forward to grab the raw piece of beef, pulling it, to eventually tugging it with an abnormal resistance. A high pitched growling was audible the longer the struggle for the meat went on. 

The frustration of having its meal being challenged caused it to focus its strength on biting down on the steak with greater force, forgetting to maintain its cloaked visibility.

Caretaker immediately grabbed his baby with one hand, not harshly or with a tight grip, but with enough sense of urgency to seize the moment, catching the devious baby once it made itself apparent. 

Releasing his grip from the steak, the hungry baby took the opportunity to consume the entire cut of beef in a few bites. It threw its head back, chomping on its food like a sea bird swallowing a fish, finishing it in one big gulp. 

Caretaker brought the baby close to his chest, cherishing the precious little life in a loving hug. He gave the baby a gentle pat on the back, receiving a burp from it, soon trailing off into tired babbling before it fell asleep in his arms, nuzzling its face into the soft fabric of Caretaker’s clothes. 

Walking out of the kitchen with quiet steps, cautious to avoid creaking the wooden boards to prevent waking the resting child, he exhaled silently, laying on the rug over the living room floor that he placed specifically for the baby. 

He curled up on his side, holding the snoring baby with the furniture around him in complete chaos. If the disaster and stress of losing his baby for a mere five minutes sent him into such a manic episode, he didn’t want to imagine for a second what a longer duration would grant. 

“Please, don’t scare me like that again. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I lost you.” He whispered, exhausted to the core.

The strenuous energy that the father would have to put in to rearrange his home back to its original design only made him drowsy as he thought about the effort. Looking down at the baby sleeping in his arms, he sighed, closing his eyes and taking a nap with it.

A loud crash disrupted the performance mid-act. Littering the floor in pieces were the remnants of a once pristine ceramic bowl, previously occupying the space atop a dresser. 

Profuse apologies flooded from Artful’s mouth like a cascading waterfall of remorse. He swore that he didn’t intend for the dove to dart into the display piece, ending up with its destruction. 

Caretaker looked down at the scattered remains of the bowl, unbothered by the damages. It was an unintentional mishap, and accidents happen. What he was concerned about was the white dove, sitting on the floor with its feathers puffed up, its black eyes wide as it hyperventilated, its chest puffing in and out, clearly frightened after the ordeal.

The doctor, determined to preserve any form of life, knelt down to carefully scoop up the fluffy bird in his hands. The bumpy texture of the dove’s feet was almost ticklish as the avian shuffled its crude talons, keeping itself balanced and stable as it was being lifted upwards. 

Anxiously, the creature trembled in his grasp, flinching as Caretaker used his thumb to stroke its back in an attempt to ease it. 

Artful awkwardly shifted, moving next to Caretaker’s side to try and do something, anything to help out. Without any underlying judgments, he was asked by Caretaker to take the spare healing potion he had in his medicine cabinet to administer to the injured bird. 

He would return with the red bottle in hand, spectating like a nurse helping the surgeon as he fed the dove a few sips of the potion. 

In only a few seconds, the dove perked up, stretching its wings and looking around, its head moving in quick jolts in a typical bird manner.

The white dove was then transferred to Artful’s hands, who hesitated before he understood Caretaker’s intentions. With the healthy avian in his gloved hands, he took it to the window, apologizing to it before sliding open the glass panel, and urging it fly away into the vast and free world.

When Artful returned to Caretaker, he was emptying the shattered pieces of the bowl into the garbage can, each individual shard emitting a clunk in scattered overlapping turns as they hit the bottom of the bin.

Caretaker turned to Artful, carrying an expression of serenity. The simple phrase that he uttered single handedly comforted the uneasy magician. 

The show must go on.

Caretaker took cautious steps towards his trash can, partially considering kicking the bin over on its side, knocking it to the sidewalk to startle whatever pest was infiltrating it. 

About five minutes prior to his initial plan of disposing of his garbage, a sound coming from the trash bin raised his suspicions. He certainly didn’t want to open the lid to have a raccoon or rats jump at him.

He had fled to his house to retrieve his weapon of choice; an old broom, forged to scare away any rodent or creature daring enough to encroach his garbage.

Slowly but surely, he inched his way closer to the rustling container, a trembling hand reaching for the lid as his body was pulled as far away as possible from the bin. 

He flicked the lid up and it flipped backwards, clacking against the side of the plastic container, surely spooking whatever it was containing. 

The doctor inhaled, mentally preparing himself as he raised the broom above his head, ready to swat the animal if it lunged at him.

Now Caretaker was no expert on animals. He specializes as a doctor, not a veterinarian. But it didn’t take a professional to realize that the creature sitting in the garbage bin was no ordinary animal, or if it could even be classified as such. 

What stared up at him from below in the rubble was a small creature with a black body and a stark white head, contrasting its solid color scheme in addition to its turquoise eyes. 

It appeared to be scavenging for food, as it was trying to chew on leftover food scraps consisting of old bread, rotten produce, and egg shells with dabs of dried yolk clinging to the calcium barriers. 

Caretaker analyzed the creature, taking note of its full blown pupils, its trembling form, and its desperation as it tried to consume the chunks of bread, spitting the dried pieces out after every interval, unable to stomach foreign to its diet. 

Once it registered in his mind, he tossed the broom to the side and immediately reached inside the trash can to pick up the creature that he concluded was a strange infant. 

With his hands underneath the baby’s own arms, he lifted it up and rotated it attentively, ensuring he didn’t disorient it. 

A low grumble from the baby’s belly alerted Caretaker, a reminder of its famished condition. He cradled the baby and hastily hurried back inside to find something to satiate the hungry child. 

Entering the kitchen, he took a dish towel and placed it inside the sink, setting the baby there temporarily. 

“I know it isn’t a comfortable spot, but it will only be for a moment.” He said as he dug through the fridge to find something edible. 

Anything solid was a no, anything too processed was also a pass. A container of organic apple sauce caught his eye. Even though it wasn’t the greatest substance to feed a baby, it was the softest and mushiest food. 

He grabbed the container and a metal spoon from the silverware drawer, twisting and upcapping the lid of the container, scooping a small amount of the naturally sweet sauce and offering it to the baby. 

It took a curious sniff, opening its mouth and tasting the sauce. Caretaker pulled the spoon out with a smile, believing that the baby accepted the applesauce, only to be proved wrong when it spat it out all over the sink, coughing afterwards and smacking its mouth. 

“Is it too sweet?” He’d ask, not expecting an actual response. “Hmm..” Back to the drawing board.

He stuck his head back in the fridge, looking for something else that would better suit the child’s tastes. 

“Steamed vegetables wouldn’t be my first pick, but beggars can’t be choosers I suppose.”

A steamed slice of carrot would be easy for the baby to eat with little resistance in texture. It wasn’t tasty, but it was nutritious. 

He took the container out, removing the lid and offering the cold orange slice of carrot to the baby. This time, it sniffed, and turned its head away without bothering to taste it. 

Sighing, Caretaker popped the carrot into his mouth, chewing as he thought about what else to offer. He set the opened container of vegetable medley with cooked pieces of beef mixed in on the counter next to the sink.

Returning to the fridge for a third time, he didn’t notice that the baby stood up, jumping to reach the container by its side, knocking it into the sink with a loud clatter.

Caretaker whipped his head around at the sound, quickly investigating, only to frown when he saw the baby covered in broccoli, carrots, and green beans.

Just as he was about to reach in and take the child out to clean it, he noticed that it was having a feast, gobbling up every cube of seared beef from the mix, completely oblivious to the slop all over it.

“You eat meat? But you barely have any…” He stuck his finger in the creature’s mouth to inspect its denticles, surprised to see that the infant did in fact have turquoise teeth to match its eyes, albeit each tooth was still in its baby stage.

It gritted its teeth at Caretaker, trying to spit the unpleasant taste of his finger out of its mouth, focusing its short attention span back to consuming every piece of meat it could grab.

Caretaker took the now empty container from the sink, setting it on the counter where it had been originally until the baby pulled it in. He was in an unorthodox situation. The doctor knew that he couldn’t just release the baby back outside. 

He watched the innocent creature begin to play with the sliced vegetables, poking at them and smearing its face with broccoli florets.

What was he going to do? He didn’t know how to be a father. Sure, he had some experience with children and babies, understanding a majority of the basics with being a doctor and all.

But the thing in his sink wasn’t exactly a standard depiction of a baby. He reached in the sink to pick up the baby again, holding it outwards from him so as to not dirty himself with the same food drenching it.

“What am I going to do with you?”

He asked, his mind conjuring every single outcome that could become the baby’s future. If he released it, it may starve and perish. Or it would become an apex predator, considering it feeds on meat, indicating a carnivorous, or omnivorous diet. 

There was no hope in placing it in an adoption center, as the facility would have been repulsed by it, assuming it to be a monster.

Caretaker, working for the Government, knew that they would confiscate the baby, registering it as an unknown threat that needed to be studied. 

For now, the doctor would have to carry the mantle, caring for the baby as his own, raising it with love and affection. Though nervous, and frankly terrified over his new and sudden reality of fatherhood, his fears were somewhat quelled by the baby’s presence.

It smiled at him, wiggling its arms and legs with glee while in his hands. The sight warmed Caretaker’s heart, instilling his resolve to protect the precious child.

The smell wafting off the baby from the food covering it reminded the father of the task at hand. The dreaded bath time.

The conclusion of the performance, resulting with the magician and his one man audience sitting together and conversing. By now, it was late at night. The crickets outside chirped away, singing into the darkness while moths flocked to porch lights and outdoor yard lanterns. 

Artful and Caretaker were happily chatting away about their ambitions, their goals, finding common grounds in each other to connect with, fortifying their developing relationship. 

At some point, Caretaker had mustered up the courage to share something incredibly personal to the magician. A photo book was splayed open on Caretaker’s lap, crinkling each time he folded the laminated pages containing cherished memories. 

Every page displayed images of a baby with a black body and white head. Some pictures were adorable, while others captured the epitome of disharmony.

A particular photo depicted the baby as the centerpiece in a background of destruction. It appeared to have been taken in the bathroom, triggered over the terrors of a foreboding bath.

The environment around the baby was littered with towels sprawled all over the floor. Bottles of conditioner and shampoo were knocked over on their sides with the soap pouring out of the top. A yellow rubber duck was visible in the picture too, although it had a few bite marks dented into its head.

The doctor knew that his baby wasn’t what a civilian would consider an infant at first glance. He snickered, studying Artful’s perplexed expression, amused by the magician’s attempts to not point out the singularity on page.

Curiosity couldn’t suppress itself, as Artful questioned the whereabouts of the child featured in each picture. The beam on the doctor’s face wavered, before realigning, holding firm despite the quivering in his heart. 

He paused for a long time, silence circulating the room. Artful was about to apologize, offering to push the subject aside so as to not harm the other man’s emotions.

Caretaker shook his head, clearing his throat and wiping his eyes, maintaining a positive smile to preserve the recollection of moments in the album he was holding. A valiant effort to remember the joy in the photos, to not tarnish them with his tears. 

He shared the story of when he used to be a father.

“Tomorrow morning, you’re going to surrender the specimen, or we’re going to take it away by force.”

That’s what he had been told earlier by two Government representatives, boldly threatening the sanctum of his own home. 

Caretaker was curled up in bed, his senses wide awake, on edge, dreading each second, to minute, to hour that ticked by. The digital clock on the nightstand read 3:00 AM in bright red digits that pierced the darkness of the bedroom.

The unblinking numbers served as a constant reminder of his dwindling moments, holding his baby closer as if that alone could truly keep it safe.

“It’s not a threat, I swear! I can take care of it... I can—“

They never planned on letting him keep his child.

“Hah!” A shrewd laughter made Caretaker feel small against the two representatives, chagrined by the belittlement of his love for his child. “Caretaker, with all due, well.. with what respect that we have left for you..” The pair snorted, pausing for a moment to keep their laughing under control. 

“You of all people should understand the threats with harboring an unidentified species in your home. You’re concealing a monster that needs to be taken away from the public and studied in a lab. It’s just asinine, don’t you agree?” Caretaker was never a violent person, but listening to the pair ridicule his baby has never made him want to punch someone in the face so badly. 

If anyone was a monster, it was the two civilians standing in front of his door, tactlessly accusing his baby of being a killer. “But what if it isn’t hostile? What will you do if it turns out you just tortured an innocent child?”

“Listen, doc. You gotta stop calling it that. There’s nothing childlike about that thing. It’s not a baby, it’s not one of us. It’s an animal; a species. We’re leaving it at that. You’re in no position to debate morals when you’re the one defending a threat, and you know it.” As they concluded their demands, the pair began to turn to leave. Before they did, they stated their final demands.

“Tomorrow morning, you’re going to surrender the specimen, or we’re going to take it away by force.

What kind of a father would allow their child to be harmed? 

The question echoed in his head as he clutched the baby close to his chest, their heartbeats off sync, but still meticulously intertwined.

He knew that he was signing off the baby to be studied in an overstimulating and foreign environment, surrounded by strangers who don’t view it as an infant, but as a disgusting beast. 

A doctor. That’s what he is. He thought that he could be something else. To become more than his occupation. He wanted to experience the wonders of loving the little baby as it grew older, teaching it and nurturing it. 

He felt foolish for letting himself fall into such an unrealistic reverie. He felt at fault, guilty over the impending trauma that will soon scar his child once the sun rises, doing the opposite of bringing light into his life. Rather, it was going to take it away. 

Caretaker’s entire night was spent hugging his child. The father’s grievances were far too distressing to allow him a peaceful rest. While he stayed wide awake until the sun peaked, his baby was fast asleep in his arms. 

When the time came, Caretaker thought about every once in a lifetime moment that was being robbed from him. So many experiences that he wanted to share with his child would never happen.

He would never be able to hear his baby speak, as it has struggled with pronouncing words as opposed to grumbles and growls.

He permitted himself a final kiss on the baby’s white forehead, staring at its curious face for one last time, heartbroken knowing that his baby had no clue what was happening. 

After relinquishing his child to the Government workers, he turned around, refusing to give them the satisfaction of his laments. 

Now lying in bed, he was returned to a world without someone to cherish. He laid in on a cold mattress with stiff sheets to cover him. A tiny shred of hope inside him prayed to see those sweet jade eyes observing him from the darkness of the bedroom. 

Despite how desperately he wanted his delusional wishes to be true, the cruel reality was that he would be by himself again. 

[How could it have been?]

He recalled the sudden wailing, tears welling in his eyes.

[That his child’s first words…]

It reached its arms towards Caretaker, struggling in the representative’s hold. 

[Would be the last time he heard it?]

“Pa…Papa—!!” 

Tears soaked his pillow as he wailed, the frightened tone of his baby’s voice engraved in his spiraling thoughts. 

What kind of father was he?

It was too much money.

That’s what Artful insisted at least, trying to cut down the funding that Caretaker was so resolute towards. A check for such a ludicrous sum of points, just to support a performer who hadn’t even made a name for himself yet? Artful wasn’t sure if he should be flattered, or astounded. 

Artful could afford to reserve a venue, equipment, advertisements, and any extra fees included with setting up a show, all while having leftover points. Caretaker’s generosity spikes to a baffling degree, his hospitality always finding ways to surprise the magician.

Caretaker’s support has fed Artful’s seed of ambition, guiding it to split and sprout into a plant that will one day bear the fruits of his labors. 

The doctor told Artful that his performance that night was wonderful. A true spectacle of magic that needed to be witnessed by all. Caretaker described him as a star that must shine.

He just needed to be viewed through the proper lenses to marvel at, recognizing him  as the radiant source of aspirations that he embodies, rather than a glimpse of a dying star that will be the cause of its own destruction, overwhelmed by its core of dreams.

The pair said their goodbyes for the night, promising to see each other again once Artful officially set up his very first performance. The pair split up after a long hug, both wearing smiles of appreciation, comforted by the other’s company.

As Artful left, Caretaker waved goodbye to him, the magician turning to look at him for a brief second, flashing the doctor a smirk, a charismatic glint of that persona he’s come to adore.

It made his heart swoon, being Artful’s first and only fan. Soon, he could share that pride with other civilians, being there by Artful’s side as the magician’s audience would finally expand, gathering more people to applaud his natural talents.

One by one, the windows projecting a bright yellow glow from the interior lights would shut off one by one. As he flicked every light switch, maintaining the minimal amounts of cleaning, he would retreat to his bedroom to unwind and rest. 

Laying on his back, staring up at the dark ceiling, he exhaled. Looking to his side, he could imagine a baby there, curled up, with its eyes closed as it snored away.

Exhausted, he reached forward to grab the blanket, pulling it over himself and the baby. It would make a noise of content, curling up even tighter to stay warm and comfortable. 

Caretaker felt at ease, shutting his eyes, and falling asleep peacefully for the first time in a long while. As he did, that imaginary child would have stirred, scooting closer to its father, nestling next to him to sap him of his body heat, before joining him in tranquil slumber.