Stay

Rescue

This could not be happening. This could not be happening. Fisher resisted the urge to growl. The professor was not only unhelpful, he was smirking. 

"You can try the lost and found in the library, but if it wasn't turned in to a teacher, I doubt it will be turned in there either," he was saying. Maybe this'll get you to pay attention in class, he was thinking. At least, judging by the look on his face. On his way back to his seat, Fisher was about to admit defeat and consider getting a new sketchbook when he saw the one he lost. In her bag. She was pulling out her own materials for the lecture as he walked past when he saw it tucked between her notebook and pencil case. He somehow kept walking and managed to sit down in his normal seat at the back of the classroom but without the distraction of sketching, he didn't have anything to occupy his hands or his mind other than the obvious. His fingers twitched and he considered walking out right then. 

What is that stupid sketchbook doing in her bag? How did she get it? Has she... seen it? What must she think of me? She probably thinks I'm creepy or weird - what kinda person sketches another like that without even talking to her? Oh my stars, I'm going to have to talk to her. She's gonna wanna talk to me. There's no way she doesn't, not after finding something like that. No way. But how did she even get it? Did I leave it? Did it fall out of my bag? Why would she keep it? Why wouldn't she just turn it in? No, scratch that, I know why.

His thoughts continued in this vein for some time while his restless hands tapped silently on the table in front of him. By the time class was dismissed, he was practically vibrating. He shot out the door and down the stairs before anyone could talk to him or ask him about anything. On the other side of the fountain, he considered his options. Or at least, he started to when he heard the building door slam open. Gail looked like she'd run all the way downstairs, with his sketchbook in her hand and a determined look on her face. She scanned the crowd of students but didn't see him. He watched her warily, wondering if he had time to run or hide. But neither proved necessary. 

She sighed and he watched her set her bag down and put the sketchbook away. She checked her watch and looked disappointed. He watched her make her way to the sidewalk and, he assumed, begin to walk home. By the time she'd left campus, he'd made up his mind to approach her about the notebook. When the time was right. It felt like every time he screwed up enough courage to approach her or talk to her, she'd turn a corner or cross the street and he'd have to jog to catch up. A couple times, he'd got caught in traffic with the other pedestrians and lost sight of her that way. He kept waiting for the right moment, when it was just them on the sidewalk. It didn't happen, so he kept following her. 

Then she turned a corner and passed a sigil spray painted on a wall. He froze in his tracks. She was in Snakes' territory now. He'd been living outside their boundaries for weeks now, avoiding his initiation. The deadline long since passed, he knew if anyone ever found out he'd re-entered their territory, he'd never leave again.

He watched her walk for two more blocks until she turned another corner and he lost sight of her. It seemed he'd have to wait until their next class to get his sketchbook back. A whole day of anticipating that awkward conversation. Hooray. He turned back in the direction of the school, and was ready to head back when he heard someone scream. Gail.

"Fire! Help!" Her voice yelled a second time. Fisher hesitated only a moment before he crossed the boundary and broke into a run, headed towards the sound. The only smoke he smelled came from cigarettes and dirty cars. As he ran, he looked to the sky but saw no signs of smoke or fire there either. He ran faster. As he did, the sidewalks got older and the buildings more marked with graffiti and bullet holes. 

He slowed, searching the graffiti for other signals and heard someone struggling in one of the alleys he'd passed. He stopped around the corner and heard a man curse. The voice was familiar but he didn't recognize it. It wasn't Gail. He listened closer to the grunts and curses, trying to identify Gail's voice. Someone with a high pitched voice tried to scream but was muffled. Someone else cursed again.