Pulling out a small flash light, you hold it above the pages as you begin to write. You only dare quick looks at John, still not wanting to make eye contact with him at this time.

"That for me?" he asks with your back turned, and when you steal a glance over he's not even bothering to face your direction.


"...yeah." John says nothing more and you continue, the letters coming down large and messy as you fight the biting chill spread through to the tips of your fingers. Burning tobacco is the only hint of warmth here and you stop occasionally, stretching and warming your fingers in an attempt to keep them usable. The random waves of pain have stopped, but you still can't properly concentrate. Your head is buzzing, even if you can't worry and focus on a single thought.


Exhaustion, it'll play dirty tricks if you aren't careful.

You manage to finish what you hope are coherent thoughts, holding the torn page in hand.


The worst of it is over, everything came to a head out in the alley. John might be cross still, but in a few days it'll be like nothing happened. You'll be able to face him without panicking. It's too much of a reminder of when you were younger, approaching your father after you did something wrong. That happened far too often, and you'd hope that after growing up the shame and anxiety would stop.

"Gonna hand that over or what?"
Sure enough, you can only shake away some of those remaining feelings as you pass the paper and light over.

[1/2]

I've already told the others this, but I figured you should know too. Once the storm passes I'm going to be gone for a bit, hopefully just a day at most.
I need to head over to family, over in Red Hill.
I want to just go and come back and not waste time, but my mother will be there and it might be hard for me to leave as soon as I'd like
If I didn't have to do this I wouldn't, but it's really important that I do
Please understand and I hope this is fine


"You're a grown man, do what you need," John crumples the paper, sticking it in his pocket. "Though gettin' a heads up on where you're runnin' off to is nice for once. Red Hill, huh? Ain't that far from here, hell...could probably walk if you really wanted. Tryin' to make it sound like you're headin' across state or somethin'. Used to pass through there a bit, small place. Course ain't nothin' wrong with small places, you can sleep with your doors unlocked there. "


As he returns to his cigarette, you watch the continuous drips from the facet. Small talk before might have been easy, but now it feels like something that would be crazy even to suggest. You look back to the cigarette, watching the cherry eat it's way down the filter slowly. Once it's gone John can go back to bed and you can attempt to sleep again.


"So now, course I gotta ask. You plannin' on taking this little trip alone?" A long silence brought to a halt with a simple question and you return it with a simple nod. "Good, that's good. Be an easier trip alone anyways." There's no need for John to try and hide the actual reason for the question, and through vain attempts you try to ignore the irritated twitch in your hand.


>Tell John that he needs to back off and drop it

>Apologize to John, but tell him that you aren't going to back down from any of this either

>Change subject

>Write-In

>>871512
>Apologize to John, but tell him that you aren't going to back down from any of this either

Maybe leave it at that and change the topic. Hear if he's seen whoever drives that shitmobile we've been seeing just idling.

>>871512
>>Apologize to John, but tell him that you aren't going to back down from any of this either

As bad as you'd like to voice the frustration you have, it's all forced down into hastily written words before being shoved over.


I'm sorry things have gotten the way they are right now, and I really hope things begin to smooth over soon
But I'm not going to stop either, it's too heavy of a burden


"Figured. Guys like you always end up hardheaded, least you don't have the nerve to go runnin' your mouth and actin' like you know everythin'. Can't really stand that, ya know? You get those hotheads running around, spewing out crap like they know how the world works and like they can do somethin' bout all it. Plus, I suppose bein' stubborn can be good sometimes. Rather have a guy who sticks to his chops than some yes-man who don't even know what he wants. Course, just cause you think you're right...it don't mean you are," John guards his smoke as a gust of wind pushes through, bringing in snowflakes that cling to the counter long before they begin to melt. With less than a quarter of cigarette left John pulls the window close, keeping out the parts of the blizzard that he can.


"Don't think either of us need a reminder of what will happen if I hear you been steppin' out of line. You know what I mean too, I don't care if you drink the liquor store empty or if you uh...if you end up like me, you can make those decisions yourself. Be wrong for me to preach at you for that, but when it ends up involving her..."
You'd rather not have John get started again, and you're quick to point to the page in his hand to show the rest of the message left behind.


I have been meaning to ask you though, there's been a car outside that has me worried
It's not always there, but when it is parked the engine is always running. I don't think the driver ever gets out
Normally I wouldn't care too much, but I've seen it parked in the alley too and I haven't seen anyone go in or leave either
Have you seen it?


"A car, huh? Haven't been lookin' at the cars too much, not unless they park up front. Sure it ain't just a carpool or somethin'? Ah well, guess you said there's no one gettin' in," John ponders over this, ashing into the sink as he tries to come up with possible explanations. "Maybe someone on this street had a bad breakup, heh- er, actually..." A sour look comes over John's face, a worried scowl tugging on the corner of his lips as the butt is pushed into the bottom of the sink.


[1/3]

"Might just be fear mongerin' here but, I guess if we're talkin' possibilities...back when we were tryin' to head down this way, Bunny 'n me, we had a quick chat with an officer. He mentioned that they'd been dealin' with quite a few break-ins recently. This was over quite a few streets, but if the cops had started crackin' down over there...well, if they're smart enough to move locations I doubt they'd be dumb enough to keep millin' around a neighborhood. And even if they were scopin' for a target, I really doubt they'd try here," John shakes his head, holding it as he tries to clear his thoughts. "Sorry, probably just spoutin' off whatever is coming up. Hella tired still, but you know how it is. They warn ya not to start smokin', and then years later you're gettin' up in the middle of the night cause you need it. Gonna try to get a few more winks before everyone's up and runnin' about, I'd suggest the same to you too."


John walks by, a quick pat on your shoulder on his exit.

A thief does seem unlikely, but it keeps you from getting much more sleep that night.


...

While the morning is a bit warmer than a few hours ago, your breath still appears in the lowly lit house. You eat a meager breakfast, before the kitchen fills up. As the others come down to eat you go to the window, looking out for any sign of that damn car. It's hard to tell where the sidewalk and the road begins, snow making them look seamless. A single pair of tracks leading from one of the neighbor driveway proves that it's not impossible to drive through, if maybe somewhat a nuisance. It could be a lot deeper though, and with the fresh flakes clinging to the window you have no doubt that it'll only be a few hours before it causes a real problem.


You notice that Delilah hasn't came down yet, nowhere in the kitchen as the other kids try to balance eating with keeping warm. With John talking to Eric, you take the moment of having no eyes watching to head upstairs. The nursery door creaked open, you can hear Delilah and Marilyn talking. Thinking that they're just having a conversation away from the hustle and bustle of the others, you're ready to head off.

[2/3]

"It's too hot..." Marilyn complains, her voice wavering slightly.

"It's no wonder, Jesus...you're really heating up..." Delilah sounds concerned, and you stop over by the steps. "Are you having trouble breathing? It sounds like it."

"I just...sometimes I can't catch my breath..."

"Stay here, I'm going to go g-"


"No!" Marilyn's voice raises up for a moment, making her next words come with struggled breaths. "P-Please don't tell Aria...she'll..she'll want to take me to a doctor or s-something...I don't want to go! What if P-Pappy comes back after she takes me? He could fix me up right away, he's the best doctor I kn-know!"

"I'm not going to tell Aria, I just want to bring you something to drink. You need to drink a lot of water right now, right? I'll just tell them you have a tummy ache for now." Delilah doesn't sound too sure of any of this, and it doesn't settle well with you either. It doesn't take long for Delilah to walk out, closing the door part way as she does. She looks surprised at seeing you, quickly shaking off the shock to motion for you to be quiet as she approaches.

"How long have you been standing here?" she whispers, looking back to the door. You must have taken too long to answer, as a guilty look comes over her. "So you heard that she's not feeling well, right?"

You nod.


"She's freaking out, not wanting to tell anyone cause she doesn't want to cause trouble. That and she's worried that she won't get to see Sam again... It's not like she has anything like the flu, so it's not like Marilyn is going to get everyone sick but uh...and she really doesn't want me to tell, but you have to keep it a secret, okay?" Delilah waits for confirmation from you, making you kneel to her level so she can whisper. "When we were out by the dumpsters, she got this deep cut in her leg. I helped her get some stuff to clean it, but she didn't want me telling anyone about that either. But now she's got a fever I think, she told me her heart has been racing too...I think it's infected. The cut, I mean. I don't know how bad it is though, she hasn't let me look at it yet...I don't know what to do though..."


>Suggest that Delilah try helping with the cut, it might help it heal cleaner

>Tell Delilah that you can go tell Aria about this, it shouldn't be something that waits

>Promise that you won't tell anyone, take a look and see what you can do about it

>Write-In

>>874048
>Tell Delilah that you can go tell Aria about this, it shouldn't be something that waits
As nice as it would be for Sam to show up now, it's best to be proactive, especially if the fever-like symptoms are from an infected cut.

>>874048
>Tell Delilah that you can go tell Aria about this, it shouldn't be something that waits

>>874048
>Tell Delilah that you can go tell Aria about this, it shouldn't be something that waits
Better not wait to prevent her infecting others or having something too severe to survive unscathed. We can always run away from doctor bills...

Nice OP pic, Cowboy Sue!

None of this sounds like something you can just turn away from. Delilah doesn't look proud of herself for telling you this, eyes darting to the floor like a child who's done something wrong. It's obvious what needs to be done, even if it's going to be met with resistance.


Go get what you were going to grab Marilyn and stay with her if you want. Don't mention it, but I'm going to have to tell Aria about this
Right away, Delilah's face lights up with concern and she grabs you sleeve, trying to prevent you from going before you have even moved.


"Wait, you can't tell! I...I promised her that I wouldn't let anyone else know, and I've already broken that p-promise by telling you..." Delilah opens her mouth to speak more but stops, releasing her hold and wringing her hands together instead. She takes cautionary glances to the door, making sure her friend isn't overhearing the betrayal, biting her lip a little too hard for your liking. "...I don't want her to get any w-worse. And if we just leave it alone...my dad t-told me about some p-patients that would ignore stuff like that and let it get terrible. It's called um...septic? Right? That's no good..."


With a sigh Delilah's face rests in her hand, making this all look like a confession of some horrible crime instead. You understand why this is difficult for her, but you're also thankful that she isn't putting up too much of a fit about it. As you write, she mutters under her breath, "She's going to hate me..."


I'm glad you told me about this, it could have been bad if this kept happening without any of us knowing
I'll make sure Aria doesn't mention you

"Does that mean I was doing something wrong by not telling you guys?" Delilah looks even more worried as she asks, "Was it not a good thing that I kept it a secret...?"


You're just trying to be a good friend, and you told me about it. You're doing the best you can As you figured, this doesn't do much to make Delilah feel any better. There's not much you can do to reassure her, at least nothing that you can think of. Maybe if you weren't so scatterbrained right now...


A pathetic pat on the shoulder and an offer to walk downstairs with her, you hang back in the living room as Delilah goes into the kitchen. She gathers the water and a sleeve of crackers, refusing to say too much to anyone else. You can't resist peeking through the window again, searching for the car against the snow, pulling away to wave as she heads back up. Delilah shoots you one more pleading look, wanting to make sure all of this will be okay before she ducks away out of view. You go ahead and write the note for Aria, trying to keep yourself from looking through the window too much. Finishing up just as Eric helps John back to his spot on the couch, you pass the men and waste no time at getting in the kitchen.

[1/4]

Aria sits with the baby at hand, bundled up tight and acting fussy with the bottle. She attempts to calm Cecilia, cooing at her and attempting to have her accept the milk. You feel bad interrupting her right now, but with the urgency of the problem and the other kids busy eating and annoying Mabel, this would be the best time to address it. Taking an empty seat next to Aria, you try to keep subtle as you hold the note up for her to read. As her eyes scan down the page it's obvious that she wants to jump up and go check on Marilyn, stopped only by the baby in her arms.


"She said it was just a stomachache, but I thought she was too warm for just that...I should have been paying more attention. She's been acting all tired but I thought she was just sad about Sam," Aria whispers to you before motioning her girlfriend over, holding out Cecilia and the bottle to her, "Here, take her real quick."


"Something up?" Mabel asks, having the infant shoved into her care quickly as Aria jumps up. She's motioned to be quiet, Aria whispering the content of your note to her. "No way, from the dumpster? Damn...I'll keep the kids down here. You go see how bad it is-" Aria doesn't wait for permission, all but running up the stairs. The other kids continue to talk with each other, just unaware of the condition their friend is in. You'd rather not have to try to explain that Marilyn might be sick, knowing that there are not too many options right now.


"It's freezing in here..." Mabel mumbles, trying her hand at feeding Cecilia now. "I can hardly stand it. God, I hope we're keeping her warm enough." She doesn't pay any attention to you, all of it focused on balancing a baby in one arm and getting Lisa to stop attacking the boys with her spoon. You'd like to go up and see how bad things are, but it'd be good to let Aria take a look for now. Too many people and Marilyn will just end up scared and alarmed, if she isn't already. All you can do for now is rest against the kitchen wall, head leaning back against it as you let out a deep sigh. Your fingers find their way to the new stitches, touching just to make sure they're still there.


"Uh, sure. I'll go get him..." Eric says from the living room, popping in past the archway a few short seconds later, searching for you.
"Hey, Lawrence. Can you come over here for a second? John says it's important..." He sounds confused and a tad bit worried but you follow closely behind, unsure of what it could be. John sits right where you had been, fingers between the blinds. He motions for you to move in closer, Eric standing back from all of this.

[2/4]

"Not trying to get you worked up over nothin', but I couldn't help but remember the thing about the car from last night. Look over to the left a bit..." John moves back enough for you to peek through and you have to try and keep your breath from fogging up the window. Sure enough, at the house next door, that damn car sits out front. Your heart catches when you see two people standing out on the sidewalk, the car turned off. A man about John's age appears to be talking to an older woman, you've seen her come and go out of the house. The man has to be the owner of the vehicle, though you can't see him too well from here.


"Wouldn't have said anythin', but I saw that car out back in the alley this morning. When you talked about it last night you got me thinkin', maybe I have seen this thing around. Only thing is, it was parked at the house on the other side of us when it was in the alley...dunno what the hell they could be doin' but I figured I'd make sure this was the same vehicle you were talkin' about..."


You try desperately to listen to the conversation, the distance just too much for you to pick up on any of it. When the man gestures over this way you back up from the window, afraid that somehow he would be able to see you.

"So what's going on?" Eric asks.

"Dunno. You'd have to ask Law about that-"
You move from this window, considering using the window upstairs. It'd be a bit closer to try and hear from, but then you wouldn't be able to see either of them clearly. Or maybe if you hurried, going outside and trying to listen would work...


Over at the window, Eric is attempting to look through now as John tries to explain what's going on. It feels like your heart is racing too fast right now, making you jittery as you hang around the stairs.

"Law? What's going on, something wrong?" Mabel asks, stepping out from the kitchen. Out of habit and lack of being able to do much else you shake your head, hardly noticing as Mabel adjusts Cecilia in her arms and moves close to you. Constantly looking up the stairs, she talks now in a whisper, "Well then, if nothing is going on does that mean you got a minute? If Aria finds out I was hiding this she'd be pissed, and I don't wanna freak everyone out but I need to show you something."

At first you're ready to shake your head, to try and focus on this car, but Mabel continues speaking before you can give an answer.


[3/4]

"I figured it'd be best to tell you first, but it's about Bunny. I don't think it would be good to keep putting this off but I think it'd be best to show you first before trying to let everyone else know..."

>Go upstairs and see if you can listen to the man outside

>Try to sneak outside and listen to the conversation up close, try to see what the man looks like

>See what Mabel wants to show you

>Write-In

Oh boy, isn't it fun to have family over for the holidays? :^) ;_;

>>876664
<3

>>879367
>See what Mabel wants to show you

>>879367
>See what Mabel wants to show you
Hopefully it isn't something bad, or something that takes too long.

>>879367
>See what Mabel wants to show you

If it hadn't been about Delilah than you'd have let it wait, but you frantically begin to motion at Mabel to show you what it is. Your heart beats uncomfortably all the while, too fast and too loud. Mabel points for you to wait by the bathroom, stopping in the hallway to open the closet. She holds Cecilia in one arm as she reaches up to the top shelf, only to remove a newspaper. Making sure no one is trying to catch a peek, Mabel begins to flip through the pages. Once she's found whatever it is she's looking for, the papers are handed over to you.


It's an older one, faded slightly and wrinkled, smelling of wet pages that have attempted to dry in the cold. She points to one of the articles, a good sized section taking up it's dedicated space. A picture attached to the piece shows a living room, though if it wasn't for the caption you'd have no idea. The walls and crumbled furniture are all blend together, the black-and-white photo mostly a mess of grays.


"Sometimes when I head to work, I'll pick up papers that have been laying around on the sidewalk for a while. Figured that if no one had picked them up by then, they would just end up in the trash anyways, and then I get something to read during my lunch break- uh, anyways. So I was reading through this one, trying to anyways the damn thing was soaked. But listen, none of that stuff is important, it's kinda one of those trashier ones but...look just read it, okay?" Mabel shifts in place uncomfortably, wanting to wait for you to catch up before saying anything else. You waste no time in scanning down the page, trying to figure out just what could be so bad about this.


"Investigations of the fire that occurred at the Sagebrush apartments in December continues, though law enforcement state that they may face some slowdowns due to incoming storms."
You continue reading down, picking up information on how the fire was deemed as being intentional and how the neighbors across the hall were the first ones to make contact with the police over it. Ready to ask Mabel what this is all about, the next line catches your eye and stops you short.


"Tenant of the apartment, Denise Esposito, was found unconscious and on the floor near one of the bedrooms. She was taken to a local hospital, brought in critical condition. Though she is now considered stable, Esposito appears unaware of what happened. She is under suspicion of causing the fire, as copious amounts of alcohol and an unnamed drug were found in her system at the time of being brought in, says our source who wishes to remain anonymous. Various neighbors and acquaintances have stated that Esposito had a problem with alcohol in the past, many stating that her addiction became worse after her husband died."


You stop there, flipping to the front page to check the date.

[1/4]

"Did you get to the end?" asks Mabel, and you take note that this copy is just over a week old. You return to the page, trying to find where you had stopped.


"Investigators note that her daughter, thirteen year old Delilah Esposito, was also in the apartment at the time."

It seems like a rather standard report, but you can't help but notice the use of was. As you continue to read your heart sinks further.


"When first searching the apartment, it was believed that Esposito's daughter had not been there during the fire. However, this was proven wrong in the bedroom Esposito was found next to. Identified as being the daughter's bedroom, it was noted that this room suffered the worst damage and may have been the starting place for the fire. Due to the damage done to the infrastructure of the building, it took several days to comb through the room. Upon a closer inspection, the gruesome discovery of human remains were found among the wreckage. Too damaged to identify on scene, the bones have been confirmed to match up for a female of Delilah's age.


When police attempted to contact the grandmother, who resides only an hour away, her residence was discovered abandoned. Neighbors and friends have put in their own reports of her disappearance, but no leads in either cases have been found. It is currently unknown if the grandmother had anything to do with the fire, or if she even knew it had happened. Esposito is expected to go into questioning once she is deemed fit to do so.

An anonymous source has put forth reward money for anyone with information about this case, and asks that you call this number-"
The paper nearly drops from your trembling hands.

"So you got to that part, right?" Mabel pulls the paper from your hand, stuffing it back in the closet like a dirty secret. "I remember seeing her name in that wanted ad, but that doesn't make sense right? How could she be here, have a reward out for her, and be dead? At first I thought maybe it had been a sister or something, but she said she's an only child and her mom is in the hospital...she never mentioned someone else her age being in the house but..damn, you know what else is weird? I can't find any more of those reward posts about her. I tried looking through a bunch of different magazines, and there's just none! That huge reward isn't being posted anymore! But I mean, maybe some other girl was in the house and just got caught in all that? But, look I don't know. I haven't told anyone else about this, I figured that would be up to you. Maybe I'm making a big deal out of nothing, but with Bunny the way she is...I wouldn't want to freak her out, just in case that was someone she knew in there."

Thank you for showing me The words feel empty as you write them down, just an automatic response despite your shot nerves.

"Yeah, I'm just going to let that rest on you. I'll leave that paper in the closet for no-"

"Oh, sonofa-...quiet!"
[2/4]

John's hushed yet harsh voice cuts her off from across the house, and you look over just in time to see him pull Eric from the door. Mabel only takes a few seconds before dashing to the kitchen, making sure the children stay quiet for reasons she doesn't know yet. Of course, you've all learned that asking 'why' in these situations only wastes precious time, but it fuels every terrible scenario that begins running through your head. Taking steps toward the door, you stop midway with the sound of echoing knocks. It doesn't remind you of a police officer's, only a minor relief in all this. You don't even dare to breathe, flinching at the next set of knocks. Fighting the urge to stay still, you start inching your way to the door. Time moves all too slowly as you come up to the thick wood, afraid to look through the peephole and see someone looking back. Glancing over to John and Eric, you get silent encouragement to see the man standing out front.


You can just see the top of his head, his ear undoubtedly pressed against the door. When he steps back, it's obvious that this guy is about John's age but no one you recognize. He takes a few steps back to look over the house, a small bag in hand. As he takes his leave the bag stays on the porch, the man returning empty handed to his car. You refuse to take your eyes off of it, watching long after it kicks on and drives down the street and out of view. Finally realizing that everyone is waiting, you let John know that the coast is clear. Eric retreats to the kitchen to let Mabel know what happens and you check the street once more. Various tire tracks line the road now, but once again it's empty as before.


Save for the bag on the porch.

New snow begins to cling to the material and curiosity gets the best of you. Pulling the door open just enough, you reach out and bring the tiny bag in. It's light, but there is definitely something inside.


John is quick to dish out a scolding the only one around to do so now, "Law? What the hell are you doin'? You shouldn't be messin' with that!"

Maybe it is nothing, maybe that guy has nothing to do with all of you. Let him be a thief, or a con artist, or whatever it may be. You'd welcome that readily at this point, unable to ignore the need to see what rests inside the bag. It'll be nothing to concern you and it can go back outside, no harm. No one will know any better and you'll be able to rest a little easier, be able to take the time to clear your head and think about all of this-

[3/4]

"Wait, what's that?" John sounds only surprised at what rests in the bag, but your entire body trembles as you pull out a stuff rabbit. Somewhat familiar button eyes look back as you place where you've seen it before. "That it? Just a toy? Feels a bit weird to go outta his way for somethin' like that, but maybe it belonged to the people who lived here-"


"Delilah's..."

"Excuse me?"

"It's...Delilah's..." Your throat burns and the rabbit is shoved back into the bag, hiding it out of view.


>Tell Delilah about the newspaper, don't show the rabbit

>Show Delilah the rabbit, keep the newspaper hidden

>Keep both of them hidden from Delilah

>Show them both to Delilah

This week might be extra finicky, dead week here at college and guess who isn't ready.

Here's a hint, it's me

>>882562
>Keep both of them hidden from Delilah
At least for the time being, this may be overmuch to put on her all of a sudden.

And let's try to put the guy down on paper while he's still fresh in our memory, maybe the others have seen him before or they'll at least be able to identify him in the future.

>>882565

I agree with putting him down on paper but we should def

>Show Delilah the rabbit, keep the newspaper hidden

At least for now

>>882711

Oh and check the rabbit over for any obvious signs of tampering.

>>882711
How are we gonna explain it to her, though, that's my chief concern. Any excuse is going to seem suspect, and we can't just tell her some guy dropped it off at the porch as that'd likely conjure worst-case scenarios in her mind.

>>882565
This

>>882738

Describe the guy to her and see if she recognizes him. If he meant us any harm or wanted Del there's no reason he wouldn't have broken in or called the cops already. Even if he wasn't aware of us being in the house (which lets be real he is as shown by leaving the doll) he will be now that the doll is gone.

Hell, we can ask Del about the guy before revealing the doll. If we get a negative reaction we can wait. If not I see no reason we shouldn't give her one of the things she's been without

The creme colored fabric is hidden away for good once you zip the bag close and you begin to contemplate what to do with it.


"What do you mean it's hers?" John asks, trying to rise from the couch only to be grounded by pain. "Who the hell was that out there?" You can't place a name to his face, but that doesn't mean someone else won't be able to. The bag gets tucked away at your side, can't risk letting it get to Delilah, and an empty page of your notebook gets flipped out in front. A less than ideal nub of a pencil gets squeezed between your fingers as you begin to fill the page. About to ask what you're doing now, John stops when he starts to see the rough sketch of a man appear. It's difficult, you're only going off the brief memory you have of him and you can't draw a straight line to save your life right now. Pressing all too hard, you continue trying to copy the likeness of that man even after you've ran the lead down against the wood.


It's rough and loose, adding anymore without a better image of the guy in mind could end up ruining it at this point. The shape of his face, slightly crooked nose, his graying brow...as much as you'd like to put more detail in you know that it could easily turn him into another person. Still, you scribble some notes about him on the side. A guess on his age, slightly overgrown brown hair, a bit overweight, drives a Buick Regal.


Looking over it, you've put down everything that you can know for sure. Sad to say it isn't much, but you show it to John anyways. You point to the face then towards the door, but he only shakes his head. "If you're sayin' that's the guy outside, can't say I've seen his mug before. Sure as hell won't forget that car of his though...let's just hope that fucker did what he wanted to do and leaves us alone here." He doesn't sound too hopeful and you feel the same way. Before any other details can leave you go to the kitchen to ask the same question again.


"Sorry," Eric says, passing the notebook over to Mabel. "It's a nice sketch, but I don't recall seeing someone like that before."

"A Buick Regal? Damn, I've seen one driving around when I've been out before. Just thought it was someone cruising around though... Christ, if he really is some sort of stalker though..." Mabel grows pale at the thought, trying to commit the man's features to memory the best she can before handing it back. Lisa hangs close to her leg, misty eyed and gripping to her pants out of fear.


"That man isn't going to hurt us, is he?" No matter how hard all of you try, it's impossible to keep everything hidden from the children. From where they sit at the table, the boys remain quiet but wait for an answer just as much as Lisa does. You leave Mabel to the task, disappointed. You'll head upstairs in a moment, but you duck into the bathroom and pull out the toy rabbit once more. Delilah only took it out occasionally, but as far as you can tell it's the same one.

[1/3]

Turning it over, you start to look over for anything out of place. No dirt or stains, it even has a hint of a perfume smell lingering to it's light colored fabric. Nothing else remains in the bag, and despite checking every part it looks to be just a stuffed toy. Clean stitches attach the limbs to the body, each one put carefully in place, the buttons shiny and unscratched. You even try to feel around inside it, searching for anything malicious hidden away. Nothing but stuffing, you look at it's face once more.


It stares back with an innocent enough look, and you place it back in the empty bag with more care this time. From up above the sound of sudden footsteps and a door slamming echoes down and you tuck the bag under your arm, proceeding up the stairs carefully. The upstairs bathroom door swings open a bit, not latching properly from the violent attempt to close it. From inside, Delilah coughs and chokes. Bent over the toilet, she's doing her best to not throw up. From the corner of her eye she must spot you, as Delilah quickly covers her face and looks away.

[2/3]

"D-Don't come in...!" she gasps, sounding close to tears. "I'm...I'm oka-" You stand back as she tries to hold back another gag, moving out of the way as to not watch her but standing outside the door just in case. She continues on, gasping for breath as she tries to keep from being sick. From the nursery Aria pops her head out of the door, pointing to the bathroom and mouthing 'Is she in there'. You nod and Aria leaves you with control over the situation, returning back inside to tend to Marilyn.


It sounds like Delilah has just became nauseous over something, but you'll honor her request for privacy. You'll show her the sketch of the man once you're sure she's fine, then over to Aria.

You begin to think over plans to keep lookout, but you're only one man. And while the others would no doubt do their best, you worry about one of them failing. One mess up and everything could go to hell, one tiny mistake that you let happen and it could be all over for Delilah. You won't do everything but can't, there's no way you can watch both sides of the house constantly. You'll have to sleep at some point, and then you'll need to think of what to do if he pokes his nose around again. Standing on the porch was doable, but if he manages to get too close at some point, it may not be a matter of simply letting him walk away.


>You should find a gun with a lot of firepower, no more playing around

>Get a gun, but a small and easy to conceal one, better safe than sorry

>Get a good sized knife, something you could carry around anywhere

>Don't trust yourself with any other weapons, you still have the brass knuckles if it comes down to it

>>885431
>Don't trust yourself with any other weapons, you still have the brass knuckles if it comes down to it
If anything happens, it's bound to be in close quarters. Worst-case scenario, we can hopefully trust John to be reliable with a firearm or knife.

Hopefully we won't have to.

>>885536

Supporting

Sorry about this guys, finishing up finals that are due these next few days!

A better man could probably be trusted to handle a gun in this. But this is you, after all, and rash decisions have never been a strong point of yours. Not to mention your lack of any proper training and use of one, it would just end up a burden instead. The pieces of metal that rest in your pocket and your hands will have to due for now.


You notice the lack of gagging and with an out of breath and unsteady voice Delilah calls out, "O-Okay, you can come in now..." She no longer leans over the toilet, instead resting on the edge of the tub. Though there's a smile, it's nearly overshadowed by the pitiful look in her eyes. Aside from being worn out there doesn't look to be too much else wrong with Delilah, and with the back of your hand pressed against her forehead there doesn't feel to be any sort of fever or chill either.


"I'm not sick," she says, pushing your hand away lightly, "Not like, sick sick, I mean. I was trying to help out with Marilyn's cut. It took a while before she'd admit there was a cut, and then forever to get her to show it to us. There was um...she started crying too and we let her calm down a bit, and then there was that knocking. Aria said it was probably nothing...is she right?" You start to nod, but Delilah points to the bag under your arm.


"Did that come from outside? It looks wet on the bottom, is there something in there? Won't it get wet too?"
You start to pull the bag out, ready to show her what lays inside. Too much hesitation and not wanting to scare her right now makes you stop, and instead you shake your head, that it's nothing.


"Why sick?" you ask and Delilah remembers what she had been talking about before.

"Right, so it's not really a big deal or anything, I promise so please don't freak out. I was trying to help Aria cause I was, well... I was feeling bad about all of that. Marilyn didn't act mad at me or nothing, but I was hoping I could make it up by helping anyways. Aria finally got her to let us take a look at her leg, and so I was standing back just a bit when she took off the bandage and um, I guess the smell was too much and that's why I'm in here..." Delilah can't help but to cover her nose again, as if the memory is enough to bring back the stench. "...it wasn't really that strong, but it still made me feel sick, I haven't smelt something like that before. That and with some of the blood coming off of it.... I um, I don't think it's healing right." Her lip trembles briefly but Delilah stops herself from crying again, running fingers through her hair idly.


"I hope I don't always have to do that..." she mutters bitterly, holding a hand over her mouth. You don't want to add any more stress, but it's important that you ask her about the man before too much time has passed. You hold the page out in front of her, tapping near his face.

[1/2]

"Recognize him?" you ask, letting Delilah hold it. "Was knocking."

"This guy was at the door...?" she asks, scanning over the picture. She looks ready to speak, but eyes dart to the notes you've written to the side. "I've maybe seen someone like him before? But this is a nice car, right?" She points to Buick Regal and shakes her head. "The guy I saw wouldn't ever own something like that, plus that guy was a lot more...I wouldn't call him dirty, just um...not well kept?" You thank Delilah, who insists on staying in the bathroom a little longer till she clears her head better. Getting up to leave, she calls to you once more.


"Wait, Lawrence is that-" she stops immediately and shakes her head, "Um...I mean...I know it's snowy outside, but it's not that bad, right? Like, if I went in an hour or so do you think I could go to a payphone that's a few blocks away? I want to call Sharron and check on a few things, I think I could get Mabel to go with me."


>Let her go with Mabel

>Take Delilah yourself

>Don't let her go now

>Write-In

>>891755
>Take Delilah yourself
This is a bad idea
I dont care

>>891755
>Let her go with Mabel
There's still a risk that people will look for us to find Delilah, probably even in this weather.

We could walk ahead of them if either wants us along, but everything should be fine. Staying means we'll have some time to figure out what to do about the bit in the newspaper and the rabbit.

>>891862

Supporting

>>891755
>Let her go with Mabel
We should keep trying to avoid being seen in public with Delilah at least until we can confirm no one's looking for her anymore

>>891917
Backing also
If they'd be more comfortable with us around
There shouldn't be any major risks necessitating it though but who knows

>>891917
>>892093
I like this line of reasoning.
I think John will too.

Though your immediate gut feeling is to say that you'll take her in a bit, you follow a different voice in your head a bit begrudgingly.

It should be fine if you leave with Mabel in the next couple of minutes and don't waste anytime getting back. If it starts to snow on your way turn back, you don't want to get lost You keep the note short, ignoring the urge to write every warning you can.
And always keep an eye out, no matter what


"Okay, cool. I promise to be careful," Delilah has the hint of pep back in her voice, standing to look over her reddened face in the mirror. "I'll go ask Mabel then." As she starts to groom her face you step out, knowing that you only have two people left to ask. It feels futile, but you approach the nursery anyways. Inside, Aria tries to keep her patient calm and a faint wave of disinfectant passes through.


"It might sting a little, but I have to get it out. When I do, you'll start to feel a whole lot better."

"Okay but you have to be extra s-super careful...!" Mabel is allowing Aria to look over the cut when you walk in, a pair of tweezers in the older girl's hand. She stops whatever extraction she was about to do, and Marilyn stares up with a thankful look.


"Oh, hey Law," Aria says, lowering the tweezers but keeping a careful hold on Marilyn's leg. It's easy to see the old cut against her skin, red and raised up around an open wound. There's barely any blood dripping down, and you can't really smell anything offensive. "Turns out, she's got a little bit of glass still stuck inside of here. I think I can get it out though. So....what was happening downstairs? We were waiting for someone to come tell us but after no one did we decided it must have been nothing." A silent nod as you move to kneel next to them, Marilyn giving you a look asking to get out of this. You can only return a sympathetic one, knowing the pain of being at the end of the tweezers.


You pass Marilyn the sketch and start to write a note to explain what you want.

This man came up to the porch and knocked, but ended up leaving right away. I didn't get a great look at hi-

"Hey, he looks familiar." The pen careens off the line as Marilyn says that, Aria looking her shoulders to take a look.

"What are yo-...oh hey, you're right. He uh...where did we see him?" She takes the sketch up next, taking a closer look.


"Wasn't he that guy who tried asking us directions?" The younger girl sounds tired out, and all you can do is hope that she returns to normal with the removal of the glass.

"Yeah, yeah you're right. When we were looking for Lisa-"

Do you remember what he said The note is practically thrust into Aria's face and she's quick to try and remember.


[1/2]

"It's fine, he just wanted directions to um, well I don't remember it now. He just stopped to ask us if we knew where some house was since we were walking on the sidewalk, only reason I really think it's him is cause you mentioned the Buick. Maybe he lives in the area?" There's no easy answer you can give Aria right now, earning a look of concern from her. Excusing yourself, you leave Marilyn to the mercy of the tweezers as you walk out to try and think of what to do. You need to constantly watch to see if that guy comes up again, but there's no possible way for you to keep watch on both sides of the house nonstop. If the guy somehow does manage to get inside, it doesn't mean you have to let him leave. Then the issue of keeping every secret and quiet comes up, what to do with the body...


Thinking about how to dispose of a body, should it come to that, makes you feel sick. Without much thought to where you're heading you walk downstairs, trying to think of ways to reinforce the house while also keeping passage in and out for the group. Sleep would be great right now, but even if the opportunity granted itself to you there would be no one that you could relax enough to accomplish such a feat.


Most of the downstairs commotion comes from the kitchen, but the lone sounds of tinkering lead you to where John stands in the hallway. At one hand he holds a pair of needle nose pliers, a piece of twisted wire holding down the short hallway window. Much too small for anyone but the kids to possibly crawl through, the colored glass obstructs most of the view in or out and so you had mostly left it alone.


"Figured it's best to be safe rather than sorry, right?" John says as he bends the wire down, adding another layer to the makeshift security. "They already had the wire on here, but looked pretty loose. Least we don't got any use for it, right?" As he looks over the handiwork he's done, the long sheathed knife stands out against his pants. You don't need any sort of reminder that he knows very well how to wield one, always figuring John would have better discipline than you in this regard.

>Ask John to back you up on all of this, you need all the help he can give

>Just ask John to keep an eye out, you can handle all the heavy work

>It'd be easier for you to focus and come up with a plan alone

>Write-In

>>892431
>>Just ask John to keep an eye out, you can handle all the heavy work

>>892431
>Just ask John to keep an eye out, you can handle all the heavy work
We can probably expect him to back us up if something does happen.

>Just ask John to keep an eye out, you can handle all the heavy work

It looks like John is already doing his part to help, there's no need to ask him to do much more. A second set of eyes is the best that you can ask for, especially when they belong to someone more than capable of using a gun.


"Heard them from the kitchen," John starts to say, leaning against the wall to alleviate the weight on his leg, "Sounds like Mabel's gonna go out and take Bunny to, what'd they say...over to a payphone. She wants to go and call uh, Al's sister right You stayin' here though, yeah?" You nod and he thinks about this, scratching at a scruffy chin.
"Surprised that you're lettin' her go, but probably good that she's checkin' in with folks that are helpful. " You don't particularly like being the one that's giving out permission, especially with Delilah, but there really isn't much else you can do about it now. It'll just have to be another piece of responsibility that you'll need to carry around.


"Who knows, maybe they'll end up findin' a heater to bring back," John chuckles quietly to himself, stopped by a deep chested cough. His smile is gone when he finally starts to catch his breath, cursing to himself as he does. "Damn blizzard nearly makin' me miss the hospital... Hell, my complainin' ain't gonna fix nothing though. If you'll excuse me, gonna try to go see if I can get that door chain workin' properly. Be great if all our locks were workin' properly."


You hadn't planned on what to do if the front door was opened from the outside, the chain would be the only thing keeping out anyone with a key. A chain wedged beneath the doorknob could provide a temporary solution for that, but the same can't be said for the sliding backdoor. Then again, that could just be an incentive for police to surround the place and you don't want to even consider that an option.


"...Lawrence?"
So caught up in planning and worried thought, you almost didn't notice Delilah calling you from the kitchen. Bundled up tight in preparation for outside, only part of her face manages to peek out.
"We're about head out. Is there anything you wanted me to um...get you or do or whatever..." She gets stops, a deep red face starring at the floor. Seeing her flustered like this is such a welcome relief compared to before, and while you want to warn her over and over you only try to offer some reassurance.


"Bring smokes." you say, flicking the tuff of dark hair that manages to stick out. Delilah looks shocked by the request and you're ready to explain that it was just a joke, but instead she takes a stance with hands to her hips.


"No w-way!" she says with the sternest voice, "It'd be a good chance for you to quit."

"Need them." you respond, trying to suppress a grin. "Look cool."

"It does not!"

"Just jealous."

"Of?" As Delilah asks this you can't help but let smugness tug up the corner of your cheek.


[1/4]

"Of me." A cigarette comes out of your pocket, earning a spot in your mouth as you search for a lighter. "Being cool." You shoot a digging glance at Delilah, seeing her eyebrows furrow down as she tries to come up with the perfect scolding.


"Hey, chica!" All of her plans go out the window as Mabel calls from the kitchen, "Let's get going before the wind picks up!'

"Oh um, y-yeah...sorry! I'm coming..." Delilah starts to head her way, looking back you along the way. You flash a wider grin, getting to hear her muffled groan. Listening to the window open the kitchen, your body slumps against the wall as the lighter comes up in hand. The cigarette tastes stale at your lips, but it doesn't stop you from igniting it.

...


What should have been a quick half hour wait became a drawn out guessing game. The entire time you constantly paced back and forth between the front and back, looking out the window for any signs before heading back to try the other again. No one else seems as worried, but every minute that passes just allows you to come up with a different scenario of what could go wrong. If you'd gone with her you wouldn't have to worry, or maybe just having her stay inside would have been the best course of action. What kind of stupid mistake did you make, letting her walk out with someone stalking the house? You need to run out there and find her before it's too la-

"Oh! I think that's them!" Aria gets up from the kitchen table, where she had been sitting with Marilyn asleep next to her, bearing through your constant come and go. You get the window much quicker than her, making her wait back as you check to see who. Sure enough the girls stand outside looking the same as they left, if just a bit more freezing. There's no time wasted getting them in, the snowflakes clinging to their clothes knocking off to the floor.

"Are you guys fine? You didn't see a st-...anyone weird out there, did you?" Aria says in a series of hounding questions, Mabel forced to peel her away so that the wet coat could finally be removed.

"It was fine babe, jeez. Calm down, we were only gone for like, what? Fifteen minutes?" The coat drops to the ground in a wet pile, Mabel rubbing her hands together in a vain attempt at gaining back warmth. "Besides, you gotta calm down if you want to hear the good news."


"Hmm? Good news?" Aria questions, soon after getting pulled away by her hand.

"Yeah. Just uh, let me tell you in the hallway real quick." Mabel looks back, giving a nod to Delilah as they exit. She begins to pull off her own wet clothes, the hat and scarf pulled away to free her frost nipped face.

"I kind of wish you had came along," Delilah says while attempting to stop her teeth from chattering, "I talked to Sharron." As you watch her talk the pain you'd almost forgotten twinges through your fingers.

[2/4]

"She said it was nice to hear that we were okay but she kinda...she kinda sounded um, stressed out? I mean like a lot, er...anyways, she asked if you were there. I guess she had some questions, and I asked if she wanted me to write them down. At first she just said no and that she'd tell you them later, but then she decided to ask if you had seen Mr. Faraway recently?" Delilah pauses for a bit, somewhat waiting for an answer before continuing. "Apparently he took a hotel room while his apartment is getting fixed. But every time she tries to go over there or call him he doesn't answer, or hasn't been for the past two days anyways. You haven't seen or heard from him, have you?"


There isn't really any time you can remember standing out with him, and you can only give her a no.

"...okay. Sharron said it wasn't a big deal but she didn't sound like that. I mean, she's probably just worried since Mr. Faraway is her brother and I got his apartment ruined..." Delilah kicks her heels against the ground in a small act of frustration before striding off with eyes to the ground. "I'm going to go change." You hold back from following. It's good to know what someone needs space, though you just have to hope this is one of those times right now. The words to try and tell her not to feel guilty aren't coming up properly, and you busy yourself with the best you can do right now. Keeping watch and trying to make a plan, as tedious and tiring as it may be.


...

Whether doing so to help care to her friend or using the time to sulk over her dark thoughts, Delilah spends most of the day upstairs. No crying and no tantrums, which means you just have to keep yourself going. Every car that passes through the front earns a watch from you, each one passing by and out of view. Looking through the window now, you're about to lose visibility of outside. The snow doesn't help either, acting as just another obstruction.

Covering a yawn and turning heel, you go to return checking out the back.

[3/4]

"Whoa, Law. Slow down there man," Eric says, walking down the stairs. "I keep expecting to see you collapse."

"Damn well looks near it," John adds from the couch, having been idly watching you. "Hasn't sat down in a few hours now."

"Jesus, you really ought to take a seat for a bit."


"What he outta do is rest for a while. And I mean properly rest, eyes closed and asleep," John sits up at the couch, "How useful of a watch are you gonna be if you're asleep at the window? You're just gonna hurt yourself at this rate."

"He's got a point." Eric adds and you can barely stop from rolling your eyes at the lecturing. "Why not just take a nap for a bit? Me and the boys are about to head it bed. I have to turn in early to try and catch a bus in the morning, but you could do for at least an hour or two."

"I doubt anythin' is gonna happen if you lay down for a bit."
>Continue taking watch for now, you'll switch later

>Sleep but ask John to keep watch

>Sleep but ask Mabel to keep watch

>Write-In

>>896783
>Sleep but ask Mabel to keep watch
Just as we can't expect ourselves to keep an eye on both sides of the house, we can't expect John to either with his bum hip.

>>896783
>>Sleep but ask Mabel to keep watch

You hate feeling weak, but sometimes it serves well to swallow your pride. A few hours of rest will help, let you stay focused, keep you from making too many more mistakes...


"Hey, it's alright!" Eric says with a pat on the back, noticing the dejected nod you give. "Thing will be fine, you need a break before you go crazy." Even if you tell yourself it's not that you can't help but to feel coddled at this point. You don't bother to wait around for any more, moving past Eric to go upstairs. Keeping up like this feels impossible, past self destructive. If you give out early, that's equally a failure on your part.


Have to pace yourself, remember that. Pace yourself and everything will be fine.

It has to be fine.

...


"You're actually going to sleep?" Mabel leans against the nursery doorway, eyebrows raised as she reads the message you wrote. Second thoughts about doing this begin to seep in but she quickly waves them off, zipping up her coat. "Glad to hear that. Sucks that it's freezing downstairs, but whatever. You rest up, and I mean it. If I see you sneaking around or trying to do anything that's not sleeping, I'll send the boys over to bug you." It should be a good feeling, knowing that she's so willing to accept this role, but you still can't help but to worry. As she goes to grab a blanket to carry down, you catch a glimpse of Delilah sitting by the mattresses. She sits by patiently, enduring the every pull and tug of Lisa's fingers through her hair. You're given a quick wave but nothing more, Delilah at the mercy of the small hands wrapped around the short amount of locks available.


It's only a short meeting, only giving her a nod back before turning heel out of the room. It's not the ideal place to sleep, but you're less likely to be bothered at the end of the first floor's hallway. There's been worse sleeping places in the past, something to remember as you settle down on the floor. Finally off your feet and with your back resting against something, it still feels impossible to calm down and relax. You have to do it though, no matter how hard it is.


Of course you're still awake long after Mabel has came down to take over your duty, and while she remains calm you can't help but notice every slight noise and rustle outside the house. Even the wind puts you on edge, an exhausted mind easily making the simple noises turn into something much more sinister. Alcohol feels necessary at this point and you throw back a few numbing gulps from the bottle. Nothing too extreme, just enough to take off some of the edge. It doesn't feel quite enough, though it does suppress the urge to jump up at every little noise. Thoughts of the Valium come up; they'd be more than enough to get you to sleep at this point.

[1/4]

When you asked William for help, you'd never expected him to actually pull through with the request. But sure enough, the man presented the partially filled pill bottle the last time you came by.
You have to be careful with this stuff he said, Don't need you getting hooked on anything, and you gotta not drink when you take these. Know you hate scolding, but I also know you like your alcohol a whole lot more.


Not that he would ever know, but you'd feel guilty if you broke your promise to him. For now, you'll save those pills for later.


Of course now you're forced to remember that you aren't the only one carrying that kind of stuff around. Delilah should still have the stuff you handed over, or at least you hope so. Even without thinking about the risk of running off with it, that's still money waiting to be made. Good enough for what you can do right now, that is. Taking care of that is something that's a sooner rather than later event, something you're going to need to figure out.

All of this has been a big mess, something you promised to never get involved in long ago. It's not like you got an outstanding amount of cash, but it's a start. If you manage to save up, then maybe days like this can start being in the past. You could live somewhere safe and warm, a place that doesn't need lookouts. It would give you the chance to relearn comfort and familiarity, to get rid of the idea that you might not return every time you leave. Being greeted by someone who wants you around-


That's all a pipe dream. There's no way someone like you could accomplish that, not any time soon. You already have a good idea on where that money is going to go, and chances of that plan changing are slim.
Still, it's a warm thought that finally lets your eyes stay close and take deep slow breaths.

Calm is good.
Even with the biting cold, this is fine right now.
Delilah is fine.
You're fine.

Things can be okay.

....
...
..
.

[2/4]

"Lawrence!" Your eyes shoot open before Mabel has grabbed your shoulders, her hands frantically trying to shake you awake. With groggy motions you move up to your feet, trying to shake the leftover taste of whiskey from your mouth. You're ready to try and ask what's wrong, but seeing John's outline at the front door takes your attention. A few hours must have passed,


"That guy...! The one from earlier, he's back!" It doesn't take any more to get you fully awake now. "That car is out front and he- wait, John? Where is the guy?"

"Think he went around back..." John mumbles before moving to the window, trying to get another look.


"Oh dammit!" Mabel's voice shakes and she rushes to the kitchen arc, you close behind. "He came up to the fucking door again, but you know what he was doing? That damn bastard was trying to unlock the door!" She stops, trying to listen for any sound at the window. You go to John, looking between the blinds to confirm that the damned car is there. At the curb it sits, engine off and looking like it belongs here.


"I don't think he actually had a key..." John says, backing off to give you room to look. "Sounded like he was messin' with the lock, tryin' pick at it. Think he managed to catch a few of the tumblers, but I think he got spooked by a car passin' by. I don't think he's gonna leave till he gets in here, that or the police show up. And...and dammit, I didn't want this to bring this up but if this guy manages to get in here an-" A hush from the kitchen silences him, replaced by the sound of the window attempting to open. This continues on for just a few moments, a deathly silence following soon after.


"...Lawrence." John's whispers and your rapidly beating heart begin to mix together. "I really don't think we can just stand by right now. If this guy really is gonna prove to be a problem for us...we need to take care of it. Mabel watched him get out, the guy is all alone. We can handle that, easy."


>Try to get the jump on this guy first, bring him inside

>Try to wait and see what he's doing first

>Try to get the jump on this guy first, take care of this outside

>Write-In

guess who can't count, it's Sue. Also, dead week/finals will be over on Thursday, and the sweet release of death can take me

>>901330
>Try to get the jump on this guy first, bring him inside
Maybe someone can make a noise at one of the windows to draw this guy's attention away from the corner we'll be coming around, that'd increase our odds of taking him by surprise.

>>901330
>Try to get the jump on this guy first, bring him inside

You point to the door but John shakes his head, unlocking the window instead.

"Try to walk in his foot prints," he says, cold air rushing in once the glass begins to slide up. "We don't need him knowin' you're out there. What are you plannin'?"


"Bringing in." That's all you can give right now, already climbing out the window. In the dark you search for the indents already made in the snow, trying your best to land in them. Sure enough, a trail of foot prints leads from the car to the window and door, though he's moved back and forth between the two too much for you to tell what was going on for sure. The ones leading away are what matter most right now, wrapping around to the back. As hard as you try, the wind makes it too difficult for you to listen and try to place where the man is at right now. Following his footprints without being able to hear if he's walking back your way doesn't seem like a good idea in the slightest, leaving you to take to the street. Even without snow threatening their drive, very people would be out at this hour and you're free to run past the houses it takes to reach the alley.

[1/2]

Your lungs and chest burn from the cold air but it's just something you have to move past. The wind gives the godsend of muffling your own movements, allowing you to approach the fence from the alleyway and look in. The snow flying past and lack of any real light makes it hard, but after some searching you manage to pinpoint him at the window that would be above the kitchen sink. He stops fiddling with the pane to look around but you stay hidden easily enough. Failing to find anything useful with the window before him, the man moves down to the other side of the house. He'll probably be occupied with the window John wired off earlier, giving you the chance to sneak into the backyard.


Once he's out of view you move in, hurrying along the inside of the fence and finding cover on the opposite side of the house. Most of the noise you'll make sure end up covered up, so it's really only a matter of sneaking up on the man first. Should be rather easy if he doesn't realize you're out here, but that's no excuse to be careless. A quick glance around the corner to make sure you're still clear before sneaking alongside the back wall, eyes glued to the corner you're moving towards. Your eyes have adjusted the best they can to the dark once you reach the end of the wall, pressing close to it to keep hidden. As nerveracking as it is, you manage to steal a peek and locate the man. Just as you guessed, he's trying to mess with the jammed window without much avail. He'll either head back to the front -giving you a chance to come up from behind- or he'll come back this way and you'll just have to circle around the house and catch him that way.

That part of the plan is easy enough, but once you reach him you'll need to


>Restrain and bring him in the best you can, try not to rough him up too much

>Do what it takes to get him inside but be careful, you need him

>The less he can struggle and fight back the better, semiconscious is better than him escaping

>>904146
>Do what it takes to get him inside but be careful, you need him
On the off-chance that he's not actually out to cause... trouble, we should avoid outright assaulting him.

If he gets a few bruises resisting, then so be it. He's the one being suspect and creepy,

>>904530

Supporting

If thread is kill before I get the update done, then the next thread should be on Wednesday.

And I will be free of finals
<4

I lied, here's new thread

>>906289
>>906289
>>906289
>>906289