Episode: 7.5
--- Trish ---
She paused what she was doing as she heard a shuffling from behind her.
“Ah, Ozzy you’re just in time-” She winced as she caught sight of her tenant. “-to look like shit…”
(Damn it, I didn’t mean to say that…) It was just that after dealing with several tenants who were all snarky smartasses, she’d developed several holes in her mind-to-mouth filter.
Ozzy shuffled like a zombie that hadn’t slept in a week- (Which is probably more right than wrong…) -before blinking as his glazed eyes became a little more focused. “Huh?”
“Uh, I was asking if you wanted breakfast?” She told him, figuring if he didn’t catch her accidental insult, she wasn’t going bring it up.
“Um…” The half-dead teen ran a hand down his face before nodding. “Yeah, uh, breakfast… sounds, uh… good?”
She couldn’t help but frown as she heard just how out of it he sounded. “You alright, you seem a bit… off?”
“I uh,” Ozzy shook his head, before blinking once more. “I just didn’t sleep all that well.”
She gave him a noncommittal hum, deciding not to press the issues since they’d only known each other for a day or so. Instead she set him a plate of eggs and bacon at the table before joining him.
It only took her a moment of silent eating to realize Ozzy was perfectly content to the awkward silence that had fallen over them. The type of silence that always ended up eating at her nerves ever since her sister- (No!)
Shaking her head, she turned her attention away from those memories and back to her guest.
“So uh,” She started, half-fumbling for a topic to talk about before settling on something semi-safe. “I’ve, uh I’ve got to go to the clinic for work in about half an hour but uh, do you have any plans for the day?”
Ozzy blinked for a moment, before processing her question. “Um, not really? No.”
“In that case, why don’t you, uh, go with me?”
The half-asleep teenager blinked once more causing her to let out a nervous laugh.
“I mean, I figure it’d probably be better than hanging out here by yourself all day.” (And that way I know my house ‘ll still be standing when I get back.)
The image of her house after leaving Cass alone for a day flitted through her mind.
“I guess I can…” Ozzy agreed a little unsurely.
“Cool.” She nodded back, before letting the awkward silence once more fall over them, since she couldn’t think of any topics, he might be comfortable talking about to a relative stranger.
(I’m starting to think I should’ve taken Jacob’s advice and read his book on ‘manipulating people through social standards and habits.’)
She still thought the name sounded kind of scummy, and didn’t like the idea of trying to manipulate people she barely knew, but at the very least she wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with the awkward (quiet) that always tended to creep up around her and other people.
Pushing aside the weird feeling in her stomach, she took a look at the clock, before telling Ozzy to finish up so they could get moving.
The ten-minute drive to the clinic itself, was relatively quiet. Neither of them really having anything to say that they didn’t say over breakfast (which even then wasn’t much). Of course, that didn’t keep the (always there) silence from grating on her nerves, especially with how talkative most of the people in her life usually turned out to be. Leaving her to turn the radio on to one of the more local stations, where they were playing a rock song about someone called the ‘Rat King’ by some group out of New Haven going by the try-to-hard name of the Saints of Sin.
(Probably one of those edgy high school bands writing a fan song about a local mask… At least the singer has a decent voice.)
Regardless, of singers she was a little more than relieved when they finally parked across the street from the clinic, where the three people who worked there always ended up parking in case someone with an emergency had to park by the door.
(Not that we see many emergencies…)
“Alright,” She started as they both made their way out of her car. “I know you passed through yesterday, but please allow me to formally welcome you to the Crimson Fall’s health clinic.”
“Um, thanks?” Ozzy offered with an awkward smile following her towards the clinic.
“Yeah, we’re admittedly pretty small since anyone who has a real problem will hit the hospital out by Misty Lake, but we still take care of a lot of the day to day problems the locals might run into. Stuff like the occasional broken bone, or medicine for the flu, things like that.” She explained to him, more because she finally had an actual topic to talk about than any pressing need to explain all of this to him.
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“That’s uh… cool?” The half-dead (or is that fully dead) teen told her, likely trying to be polite despite his obvious exhaustion. “It’s good that you guys, um, help who you can…”
She almost gave his corny response a laugh, before catching sight of someone as she opened the clinic door and braced herself for what she knew was going to be a problem.
“Hey Trish.” A tired voice called as soon as she walked in, drawing her attention to a young woman with brunette hair in a button up blouse sitting behind the clinic’s front desk.
“Hey Mags.” She greeted with a little more cheer than necessary, knowing full well her high school bestie hated morning people.
Maggie groaned not looking up from whatever paperwork she was (finally) doing, rather than putting it off for another day. “Please tell me you brought coffee.”
“Sorry, nope.” She shook her head, having skipped her usual ritual of grabbing a cup from the one and (probably) only café in town since she had Ozzy with her. “You’re stuck with office coffee today.”
“Ugh.” Mags groaned even louder than before. “That crap does not deserve to be called coffee.” Her friend glared before blinking. “Oh, uh, sorry can we help you?”
She blinked once herself before following Maggie’s gaze to her teenage companion who was awkwardly shuffling by the front door.
“Ah, right!” She slapped her forehead, more to draw their attention than actual habit. “I didn’t get a chance to introduce you yesterday. Ozzy this is Maggie. Mags, Ozzy.” She swallowed a bit, already aware of her friend’s reaction to this next bit. “He’s going to be staying with me for the next few days.”
“Nice to meet you.” Mags greeted just a little tensely.
(Yeah, uh, she’s not happy…)
A sentiment Ozzy seemed to pick up as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah, same…”
“Right.” She clapped, once more to break any tension before it could properly form, before turning to Ozzy. “Now today should be pretty slow, since the Falls are a relatively small town, so you can either hang out here with us, or since I know you didn’t get much sleep last night, you can take a nap in one of the spare rooms. We’ve got three, but I don’t think we’ve ever used more than two even at our busiest.”
Ozzy glanced around the empty clinic room, not really meeting either of their eyes. “No, um, uh, I’m fine…”
“You sure?” She asked with a touch of concern, fully aware not even Deadmen had bags like his around their eyes most days.
“Yeah, I’m, I’m fine…” Ozzy nodded, waving off her concern. “But uh, do you need me to do anything around here?”
She blinked before “What do you mean?”
“I mean, uh,” The teenager bounced on his feet for a moment, trying to figure out what he wanted to say. “If I’m here, maybe I should… help with something?”
“You don’t have to do that.” She told him without a hint of hesitation. (After all I’m the one trying to help you.)
“Yeah but…” Ozzy rubbed the back of his neck before sighing. “I guess, I just don’t feel comfortable staying in your guest room if I’m not pitching in.”
She was about to repeat her previous statement, before remembering how Cassandra had felt the same way, and decided to pay her back by taking care of the cooking and cleaning around the house.
Something she immensely regretted agreeing to, given how the Wonderlander in question apparently had a different idea of what qualified as ‘food’ compared to normal humans, and had tried to feed her what she was pretty sure was a mix of bugs and roadkill.
(Right, I’ll just uh, give him some busy work so he doesn’t try to do something he can’t handle… Like Jacob, who was only good for flirting with my co-workers… You’d think the guy never worked an honest day in his life…) Which given what she knew about him, was actually a fairly plausible theory, now that she thought about it.
“Uh, Trish?”
Realizing she’d been lost in her thoughts for a moment there, she shook her head and turned her attention back to the semi-concerned teenager. “Um, I can’t really think of anything we need help with around the clinic unless you feel like mopping the floor or something?”
“Yeah, I uh, I can do that.” Ozzy nodded, before looking around a bit. “Just um, where’s the mop and bucket?”
“Oh, uh…” She looked at Maggie who gave her a shrug. “It should be in the back, but uh, I think we might need to get more soap.”
“Oh…” Ozzy rubbed at the back of his neck, not sure how to respond to that.
Seeing the runaway deflate, she reached into her purse and pulled out ten dollars. “Uh, here.”
“What’s this for?”
“Right, there’s a general store about three blocks down the street.” She pointed in the store’s general direction. “I figure since you’re looking for something to do you can head over there and get the soap, that way you can mop the floors before it gets too late… If you want.”
“Um, sure.” Ozzy nodded, stuffing the money in his hoodie pocket. “Alright, I’ll, uh, I’ll be back in a minute then.”
“Alright.” She waved as he turned to leave. “See you in a bit.”
“Right…”
As the runaway Deviant made his way to the door, she took a calming breath, savoring the few seconds of quiet she was granted while Ozzy was still close enough to hear, before sighing as the door closed behind him and Maggie turned to face her with an incredulous stare.
“You’re letting him stay with you?!”
“It’s not the first time.” She reminded her longtime friend.
“And it wasn’t safe any of those times either!”
“Look Mags,” She started, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Ozzy is a decent kid. There’s nothing to be worried about.”
Her friend made a face, her eyes darting to the door Ozzy had left through before rushing back to her. “Look we both know the only ‘teens’ that drift through the falls, are Deviants.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not a reason to ignore someone who needs help. I mean we work at a public clinic for fucks sake.”
“Hey, hey, hey!” Her co-worker shook her head while raising her hands in a defensive way. “I’m not saying we shouldn’t help them if they need it, I’m just saying that you shouldn’t let an unknown Deviant into your house, I mean what if he’s a Deadman or a Malcontent? They eat people you know!”
(So, I’ve seen…)
(A would-be killer’s corpse missing its throat and a child’s face covered in blood…)
She shook her head, pushing that memory to the (far) back of her mind as she instead pointed out that, “Malcontent have silver eyes.” While neglecting to mention the fact that Ozzy had the same color eyes as most Deadmen.
“Whatever.” Now Mags rolled her eyes, before giving her a concerned look. “My point still stands, Trish; you can’t be inviting people you don’t know to stay with you. One of these days you’re going to let the wrong one in and they’re going to hurt you!”
She wanted to keep arguing the point, but she also understood where her friend was coming from. “I get that you’re worried, but at the very least I don’t think you have to worry about Ozzy. Given how I haven’t seen him playing around with any of his powers, I figure he’s probably an M.A.D. or something harmless like that.”
Maggie didn’t give her a happy look, but she did relent at least. “Fine, but as long as he’s staying with you, I’m going to keep an eye on him.”
“That’s fine.” She agreed, figuring it was the best she’d get out of her friend.
Of course, what she didn’t mention was that she knew for a fact that the idea Deviants had to use their powers was usually a stereotype, at least once you got past their dietary habits. And that if Ozzy really wanted too, he could probably hide the fact that he was a Deadman from anyone who hadn’t met a Deadman in person.
(Hmm, I wonder how Bridgette and her husband are doing?)