Ember woke up the next morning feeling better than she had in a long time. She was alone in the bed, and had a slight headache. Yawning, she carefully climbed out of bed and stood up. She was hungry.
Quietly, she went into the hallway and looked around. The house was quiet. She walked down the hallway and into the living room. Everything was as she remembered it last night.
Going through the door to the kitchen, she spied the glass she'd used the night before. Filling it, she sipped on it and walked back into the living room.
Obviously, her rescuer had gone out. Being alone in a stranger's house felt weird. What should she do? She didn't want to pry into his life.
Suddenly, the door opened. Startled, Ember dropped the glass and turned. She backed away, towards the hallway.
GraveRobber walked in and closed the door. Wearing a black leather jacket and a fedora, he looked nothing like the man she'd met last night. He was carrying a few sacks. "Morning, little girl." He grinned.
Ember looked down at the wet spot in the carpet. "I'm so sorry! You scared me and I dropped my water..."
"Oh, no! It's ruined!" He faked horror. "It's fine. I'll grab a towel." He went into the kitchen and came right back out, sans groceries. He handed a towel to Ember, then took off his jacket and hat. "So, did you sleep well?"
"Yes, thank you." She mopped up her mess. Her stomach gave an audible growl. Blushing, she admitted, "I'm quite hungry, I'm afraid."
"Well, then I guess it's a good thing I went to the store, huh." He straightened his shirt and fixed his hair. "Come on, little girl. Time to feed the beast."
Ember followed him into the kitchen She watched him pull things out of the bags. "Is all of that for me?"
"Us, but yes. I don't usually have anything worth eating here when I don't have company. We have... oatmeal, bread, sliced turkey, popcorn, Twinkies, crackers, cookies, cheese, and pepperoni. We will start you off with oatmeal. Sound good?"
"Very." Ember nodded.
"Good." He set about making the oatmeal. "Go and sit!"
Nodding, Ember went out and sat on the edge of a couch cushion. She looked around nervously. She quickly turned at the sound of his voice.
"God, little girl, you're killing me here! Sit back and make yourself comfortable! You act like you're expecting to be attacked any minute!" When she didn't answer and just stared at him, he looked at her suspiciously. "So... you ARE expecting to be attacked? Well, we'll have to have a little chat." He handed her a bowl and sat down. Taking a bite, he said, "So, Ember, first off, how on earth did you end up looking like a scalpel slut?"
"A- a what?" She asked, her eyes wide.
"Term for girls addicted to surgery. You know, all of your scars?" He took another bite.
She took a bite and quietly looked him over. Finally, she asked, "You won't turn me in to the Genecops?"
"I'm a Zydrate dealer. Why would I do that?" He took another bite and stared at her.
"If I tell you my story, you tell me yours. Deal?" She held out her hand.
He took it and kissed it. "Deal." He took another bite.
"Before I tell you... will you tell me your name?" She took a bite.
"Will you tell the Genecops?" he mocked. He looked at her thoughtfully. "I guess there's no harm in telling you my name, since we're both wanted and all." He stuck his hand out this time. "Clarence Zaboomich."
She gave him a small smile and shook his hand. "Ember Bianchi."
"So, Ember Bianchi, how did you end up on the street."
"Um... my parents... they, uh... did experiments on me. My whole life, as long as I can remember, was nothing but experiments." She ate a bite and tried to collect herself. "The reason my legs are full of infection is because they did transplants on them... These aren't my legs..." She looked at him, horrified.
"Those aren't your arms, either, are they?" He asked, quietly.
"No," she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. "I wasn't perfect enough..." she sobbed. "I just wanted to be enough! But they kept cutting and transplanting!" Her oatmeal bowl fell to the floor as she grabbed her head and curled into a ball. "They were going to take my eyes! They said I was horrible, and they weren't going to give me any Zydrate! I couldn't do it! I couldn't let them do it! I took their knife, and... and I stabbed them! And stabbed! And stabbed! I ran away. I had nowhere to go or anybody to help me!" She sobbed and rocked back and forth. "I'm a freak! A FREAK!"
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, letting her cry it out. When she lay against him limply, he quietly said, "You are not a freak. You're beautiful and you deserve so much better than this. And I will be here as long as you need me. Alright? So, this house is your house."
She pulled away slightly and looked up at him, teary-eyed. "You really think I'm cute?" She sniffled.
"No, I think you're beautiful. Cute is used to describe puppies, or bunnies. Not a girl like you." He smiled at her. Letting it fade, he snarled. "They're lucky they're dead. They wouldn't have had it as easy with me."
"I heard the Genecops are after me. They want to interrogate me for murder." She laid her head back against his chest.
"They won't get to if I have anything to say about it. I will have to do some thinking, but I will figure out how to keep you safe." He rested his chin on the top of her head.
"Can I tell you a secret?" she asked softly.
"You can tell me anything."
"You're the third person to touch me. And the only one who hasn't hurt me when they did. I've never had one before I met you, but I like hugs." She sighed.
His arms involuntarily tightened around her. It was dangerous for him to care so much about someone else, especially so fast. But she was so young and innocent. It was rare these days and it needed to be protected.
"I'm so sleepy," she said, yawning.
"Hold on," he said, quietly. He adjusted his position until she was laying on his chest, his legs around hers. "Sleep now, little girl. It will be alright."
They stayed like that for an hour, her asleep and him lost in thought.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Ember woke up slowly and sat up, yawning. She was surprised to find that GraveRobber - Clarence - was still sitting in the same spot. She looked down and saw her oatmeal bowl spilled all over the floor. "I'm sorry!" she squeaked.
"Don't be. It will be an easy clean up. Listen, why don't you go freshen up while I clean up and make you a new bowl? We're going out." He stood up and held out a hand to her.
"What?" she asked, terrified.
"Calm down, alright? Were going to get you some clothes and some hair dye. That way, you will be harder to recognize. You have to start trusting me, Ember. I told you that I would keep you safe, and I will. If I thought you were in danger if you went out, I wouldn't take you out." He stood there, his hand still out, waiting.
Embarrassed, she took his hand and stood up. "I trust you, I do. It's just a big change is all."
"Same here. The only way this will work is if we trust each other completely. Understand?"
She nodded and went to the bathroom to clean up.
GraveRobber watched her walk away, a strange feeling in his chest. He shook his head, trying to push away the feeling, and set about cleaning up the oatmeal. He needed to keep himself in check, to be sharp, if anything WERE to happen while they were out.
Mess cleaned up, he made some more oatmeal. His mind wandered to the problem of living space. He knew it would take awhile for him to get her to be self-sufficient, so they would be under the same roof until then. So, where would she stay? The other bathroom was practically inhospitable, and he couldn't handle sharing a bed with her again.
"Hey... I'm back," a small voice said from behind him, jolting him out of his thoughts.
He turned to see Ember in the doorway, her hair in a sky-high ponytail and wearing a pair of his jeans and a new tee shirt. "I borrowed some of your clothes. I didn't want to go out in shorts. I hope it's OK..." She blushed.
"It's fine, but... how on earth are you keeping those up?"
"I'm using my old leggings as a belt," she answered, somewhat proudly.
"Resourceful, but I could have given you a belt to use." He smirked. "Anyway, here's your fresh oatmeal. Try not to drop this one."