Shay coughed raggedly, pulling her coat tighter around herself. She wore cute pink mittens, which wasn't usually her style, but she was feeling dark enough on the inside that she wanted to look bright and silly on the outside. That was how she ended up wearing some weird white and pink kitten themed sweater, mittens, and boots. Her white pants were stained with newly acquired dirt.
Winter break meant she had time to skip through the streets, pounce on piles of snow and loiter around construction sites that were down for winter. She was a sick kid, but more people could miss that if they didn't look close enough at the bags under her eyes, or the way her muscles tensed with each new wave of pain. Or, the most telling sign, a hint of missed blood at the corner of her mouth.
Shay stood in the center of the construction site, looking around at all the unattended equipment. She hadn't been to one of these since before her adoption. It was never a good idea to climb iced metal, but since when did children care about smart ideas?
She climbed onto one of the cars, higher and higher up unfinished buildings until she was a good eight feet up. Maybe not a long drop for adults, but at an even five feet, Shay thought the cold, hard ground below was pretty fucking threatening.
Shay rubbed her hands together and flexed her shoulders and fingers, hoping to bring the feeling back to them, numbed through the weather and a heavy dosage of pain medication.
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This place was full of nutters. At least, that was what Fitzroy had told himself when he was on his way. A bloke on the boat was going on about being a vampire. Even went so far as to use a parasol up on the ship's deck during the day. A fucking parasol! But then the island had come into view, and Fitz was made to eat crow. An honest to God dragon had flown over the ship as it pulled into port. It turned into a young woman as it landed, and she stepped into a cafe.
Since then, Fitz had been forced to unlearn everything he thought he knew about the world. For one, mind readers were an actual thing here. That had been embarrassing. But worse was the black eye he had received trying to pick the pocket of someone with superhuman senses. Right now? He just wanted to knock a few drinks back and forget his troubles. He would forget about his troubles and stumble back to his dorm room to sleep it off.
So this was how Fitz found himself lying in the back seat of a parked car in the middle of a construction site, a six pack of beers at his side to keep him company. He was working on opening the second one when he heard and felt someone climbing on top of his temporary fortress of solitude. The cold had forced him to double up on clothes, wearing a coat over a hoodie and jeans over a pair of sweat pants. Though a yellow hoodie didn’t necessarily look good under a brown coat, and neither went particularly well with the green hat that sat on his head.
Fitz crawled out of the back of the car, more scrambled really. He wanted to see who else would be in a place like this on a day like this. Beer bottle in hand, his gaze followed until he was looking directly at Shay. This girl looked goddamn ridiculous in her pink and white kitty cat clothes. But as he looked more closely... there was more. The bags under her eyes. The tension in her shoulders. The way she wrung her hands together. She was in a bad way, he could tell. Ah shit. For as selfish and greedy as he could be, Fitz had a bit of a heart for broken things. He had been one, once.
Popping the top on his beer bottle, he threw back a swing, never taking his eyes off of the girl.
"Oy. Lass. Ye might wanna get down from there afore ye break yer arse."
Shay's eyes shot over to the man when he called out to her. She almost fell back but managed to catch herself and hold on for dear life. How -- Where had he come from? Had he been here this entire time? Shay wondered where he could have been hiding that she didn't notice. Too late now.
She would have been truly irked to be called broken, whether it rung true or not. Cracked, maybe. Roughed up. Beaten. But not quite broken. She was still fighting.
"I didn't plan on jumping," she said as though he'd accused her of it. A child with their hand caught in the cookie jar.
She liked his accent. Hadn't heard that particular one in a long while. His was heavier than she'd heard before, it made him a little hard to understand, especially at a distance.
"Who're you? How long were you down there? I don't want any trouble."
Shay wanted to scream for her mind to please work faster. It was fuzzy. Everything was fuzzy, and her body was too damn tired. She could hardly focus on his ridiculous clothing decisions.
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Fitz twisted his face for a moment as the girl spoke up. Then gave her a flat look. "Funny. I don't recall saying anything 'bout jumping, lass. Hold up, ol' Fitzy will be up'ere in a sec."
Putting his bottle in his coat pocket so he had free use of both hands, Fitz began to climb. He hated climbing, especially on such uneven surfaces. But he couldn't let a kid kill herself around him. Didn't need that kind of attention.
Settling down on top of the same piece of equipment as the girl, he sat with his legs dangling over the edge. He pulled the bottle, only a little spilled, from his pocket and took another swig and nodded once at the girl.
"Name's Fitzroy. Most folks call me Fitz. Or the Man in the Green Hat. Friend to all."
He lifted his hat briefly for emphasis and flashed a quick grin.
"I was just resting in that damn junker down there," he said with a vague wave at the car, back door still hanging open.
"Enjoying a cold one or three afore some tosser decided to go stomping around on me hiding spot."
He paused, swirling the bottle around lazily in his hand. He seemed to be pondering something, then spoke up. "What are ye doing up here, if jumping ain't yer intent?"
Putting his bottle in his coat pocket so he had free use of both hands, Fitz began to climb. He hated climbing, especially on such uneven surfaces. But he couldn't let a kid kill herself around him. Didn't need that kind of attention.
Settling down on top of the same piece of equipment as the girl, he sat with his legs dangling over the edge. He pulled the bottle, only a little spilled, from his pocket and took another swig and nodded once at the girl.
"Name's Fitzroy. Most folks call me Fitz. Or the Man in the Green Hat. Friend to all."
He lifted his hat briefly for emphasis and flashed a quick grin.
"I was just resting in that damn junker down there," he said with a vague wave at the car, back door still hanging open.
"Enjoying a cold one or three afore some tosser decided to go stomping around on me hiding spot."
He paused, swirling the bottle around lazily in his hand. He seemed to be pondering something, then spoke up. "What are ye doing up here, if jumping ain't yer intent?"
Shay puffed one cheek out at his look and kept her eyes on his. Nothing was intimidating about her stare. Seriously. She was a five nothing little girl all red-faced from the cold and so bundled up she looked like a snowman.
"That's ... why I was saying it right away. So you didn't think -- No, no! You don't have to climb up here, I'm--" Too late. He was already doing it. She watched with morbid curiosity, wondering if he'd slip.
When he made it to the same piece of equipment Shay was on, her eyebrows shot up in surprise. She took a moment to look him over. Drinking, handsome, Irish accent. He was cute and kind enough seeming.
Shay scooted away, just a tad, out of arms reach. She'd met enough creeps to know a friendly face wasn't any indication of good intentions. Maybe climbing up frosty metal for a kid was, but really, who fucking knew.
"I take it you can't fly?" Shay asked, voice as dry as her smile.
She wanted to tell him he shouldn't have been drinking all the way up here. He'd drank up to three beers, maybe more. That was just dangerous. But maybe for a guy sleeping in an abandoned construction site, safety wasn't the number one priority.
"I've never heard about the Man in the Green Hat," Shay admitted. "N-Nice to meet you, Fitz. I'm Shay. Eroshay Rosales." She paused, looked down as he answered her question. Whoopsies. That tosser was her, but then...
"Why were you sleeping 'in that damn junker'? Don't you have a home or a hotel?"
Eroshay didn't want to admit it to a man she'd just met, but she liked his accent and the phrases he used. She'd never heard them before. Odd on an island like this, maybe, but she wasn't particularly worldly.
"I'm also having a cold one -- That sounded more clever in my head. I'm enjoying the weather. Looking at everything." A beat, then, Shay smirked. "I wanted to feel tall."
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Fitz just took another swig of his beer and listened to the girl as she rambled on about this and that. She seemed distracted, or in need of a distraction. Maybe a little of both.
"If Ah could fly, wouldn't 'ave climbed this bugger 'ere, yeah? And I ain't surprised ye 'aven't 'eard o me. Mostly known 'round the poor folk o Ireland." He patted the icy tip of the equipment and gave a small chuckle.
The beer finished, Fitz stood up and chucked it as hard as he could in a direction he was mostly sure didn't have any people. The bottle sailed through the air and vanished, its landing marked by the sound of glass shattering in the distance. Fitz grinned. It was a good throw.
"Not sleeping, lass. Resting. S'good to get away from 'ome e'ery now an' then, yeah? And quiet's good fer thinking."
He barely turned Shay's direction when answering her questions, but he did keep an eye on her. Watching out of the corner of his eye. She was a curious lass. Right at that tipping point between childhood and adulthood. She seemed mature, but almost out of obligation rather than a straight desire to be.
"Tall. Aye. We're pretty tall up here, miss Shay." He paused, humming a bit as he thought.
"Ye don't mind the company, do ye lass? Ah can skip out if ye'd rather me leave ye be." He asked the question, but already had a feeling about the answer. So he shoved his hands in his pockets, ready to sit back down.
Shay side eyed Fitzroy when he tipped the last remains of his beer to his lips. He was cute, in a sketchy sort of way. He reminded her of a raver. She wanted to laugh at it because of course, this was the type of man she'd meet in an empty construction site. Of course.
She lurched forward when Fitz stood to threw his bottle. Someone who couldn't fly had a few beers in their system and was standing on frosted metal. Yeah, that seemed like a fucking recipe for disaster. "Careful!" she said despite herself.
She reached out in case she'd need to catch him. It was a subconscious action because there was no way in hell she could stop him from falling and pull him back up. When she was certain he wouldn't be tipping over, she resumed her earlier position, though more tensely (somehow) than before.
"What were you thinking about?" From previous experience, Shay knew most people didn't like to answer that question, or they'd brush it off with something mundane which was hardly ever the truth if her own periods of contemplation were any indication.
"I'll tell you what I was thinking about if you tell me what you were thinking about." Which begged the question, would she even know if he were lying?
"I don't care if you stay," after a moment of letting that sentence linger, just long enough for Fitz to sit down. "Just don't try to kidnap me or anything. That would be bad for you."
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Fitz continued to watch the girl as she fretted over him. Probably worried he would fall and bust his head open on the ground below. Which, to be fair, was a valid worry.“Ah’m used ta living dangerously, lass. Don’t worry bout ol’ Fitzy.”
He shrugged at the question. What was he thinking about? Mostly the insanity of now living in a place with things he had read about in fairy tales. Should he lie? Mention school, or how he needed to find a job? Something told him no, no he shouldn’t. The lass might appreciate the honest bit.
“Ah only just arrived, ye see. Didn’t know this place, or the people in it, were real, yeah?”
But a thought struck him and he added, “Thought the Man in the Green ‘at was all alone in the big wide world. Surprising turn o events, innit?”
“Lass, ye’d only ‘ave ta fear o Fitz if ye was a giant bottle o whiskey. Which ye clearly ain’t.” He shrugged and smirked at her warning not to kidnap her. He wouldn’t ask, but he assumed her family had some clout around town that would mean no shenanigans would be gotten away with with her. Which was fine. Fitz wasn’t that brand of terrible after all.
"Does living dangerously stop you from falling on your head and breaking your neck?" Shay asked a hint harshly. She'd have said the same thing, and right now she was being quite the hypocrite. Shay fingered a loose thread on her sleeve with a sigh. "Sorry. Your life. I don't have much room to talk when I climbed up here in the first place."
Shay quieted as Fitz went on to answer her question. She watched him with a gaze too penetrating to belong to a child. She tilted her head from one side to the other as he went on to add that he'd assumed he was alone. Shay grinned, a look that brightened the gloom outlining previously outlining her face.
She reached up and rubbed her nose to warm up, wiping the excess blood off in the same action and swung her legs, giddy that he seemed to at least be giving her some truth. Shay assumed it was truth.
"This place is the only one I've ever been. The Man in the Green Hat... Aren't you basically human, anyway? Like a witch or a mage? Or are you some type of Fae? You don't seem Fae," Shay scrunched her nose distastefully.
"Now don't anyone ever say I don't follow through on a deal. I was thinking about Christmas, mostly. But also family and friends and growing up. Annnd, if I had planned on suicide, jumping would not be my go to."
Shay snorted at his joke and pretended to look under the collar of her jacket. "I'm secretly a big bottle of whiskey, but don't tell. You keep referring to yourself in the third-person all cute like, which is weird, but also, kind of endearing. I've never seen someone do that unless they were the villain in a movie."
Shay stood and reached up toward a higher beam, intending on climbing further up. Before she did so, she turned her face into the crook of her arm and coughed a few times, leaving blood on her clothing. She wobbled, lightheaded.
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Fitz puffed up his chest when the lass called him human. "Ah ain't no mere mortal lass," he lied. Fitz never regretted a lie. His whole life was based on lies. And this one had gotten him this far. Had gotten him here."Ah'm an urban legend o sorts. Known mostly round the Travelers an poorer folks o Ireland. Been round nigh on a century now." He felt a kind of pride swell within him at his imaginary status. It wasn't a terribly grand lie, one that could maybe be believed.
"Ye 'ave a look about ye, lass. Like ye see right through all the bullshit around ye. S'a good skill ta 'ave. Don't get ye 'urt less, necessarily, but kind o lets ye pick 'ow ye get 'urt."
He chuckled, as if to dismiss his temporary waxing philosophy, but let it turn into a loud, hearty laugh as Shay played along with his whiskey joke.
Then she fell. Or at least, looked like she was going to. Coughing up blood and wobbling were not things one should be doing on top of frozen construction equipment.
Fitz may have been a jackass and a con man, but he hated seeing people getting injured. He lurched forward as quickly as his alcohol buzzed brain would let him and grabbed Shay by her arm. He managed to stop he from falling, pulling her further away from the edge.
Fitz himself was not as lucky. He slipped, his mind briefly going clear as his chin clipped the corner of the equipment on his trip down. He landed on his ankle and crumbled in the snow like a ragdoll. "FUCK!"
His ankle was broken. Small mercies it hadn't been his head he landed on. He might've ended up an anti-alcohol advertisement if that happened.