"Garrett?" The word seemed far off somehow and Garrett was not entirely certain whether he had actually heard it or imagined the inquiry.

The harsh laugh of the Outsider bounced around in his head, bringing with it flashes of the man with black eyes and a poisoned tongue.

...master of this realm… your entire existence is folly… your freedom was a dagger's edge away… And again, you withheld yourself. Why is that I wonder?...

Garrett felt himself squirm in his body but couldn't escape the voice nor could he rouse himself.

The question was relentless, echoing over and over within his dream:

…Why is that I wonder?...

The truth of the matter was that the thought of killing Daud hadn't even entered his mind. Daud must have realized it as well. Anger coiled in Garrett's gut as it occurred to him it was another of the man's blasted tests. Daud never went anywhere without one of his people watching his back, that much Garrett had figured out very early on.

Daud would continue to test him, Garrett realized in his twilight state. And in the interest of self preservation Garrett would need to keep a sharp eye.

He didn't want to think about what would happen to him, should he fail one of Daud's tests.

...None of Daud's followers can use the mark as you can now…

...Impress him…

...Or kill him to gain what you want most…

"Garrett?" a soft voice broke through the fog of his dreams. His shoulder shook back and forth as the voice came again, "Garrett. Wake up."

His eyes drifted open and landed on the candle remnants on the end table by his bed. Looked like he hadn't blown it out after all and it had dwindled down into a puddle before drowning itself in its own wax.

Garrett sighed as he sat up, knowing full well now that he was awake he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep easily. His dreams slipped from his thoughts in spite of his efforts to focus back in on them. The book that had been in his lap clambered loudly when it slid off the bed and met the ground and effectively snapped his thoughts from his wayward nightmares and back to his reality.

"I am sorry, Garrett. However, I am instructed to bring you to Daud. Your breakfast, I am afraid, will have to come a touch late today." Doc placed an ash grey turtleneck sweater and a pair of solid grey trousers on his bed. Daud's way of labeling him as a novice within his gang. "It would be within both our best interests that you meet with him soon."

Garrett cleared his throat as she handed him a cup filled with water. "Yeah sure." He accepted the water with no further comment and downed the drink with a quickness.

Doc was right there with a second glass.

It occurred to him as he finished the second glass that she was the only person in this damn den of vipers he would trust to give him any form of substance. And he found his trust in her to be troublesome. Even though, no doubt, she genuinely meant him no harm and even took an interest in his well being, he needed to remain cautious.

She'd already expressed where her loyalties lie. While he didn't think she would follow a direct order to kill Garrett, she had been curiously absent when Daud had put on his disturbing little show with the rats.

So she wouldn't stop it, should the order be given.

Garrett gasped as he finished the second glass. The water being the sweetest thing he'd drank in days, likely due to its absence.

"I can get you more." Doc offered as she took the glass from him and crossed the room to a pitcher sitting on a tray on his desk.

Garrett eyed it but, even though he greatly wanted to, he felt no real suspicion. He nodded as he shucked his shirt and whipped the clean one open. As he pulled the turtleneck in place he could hear the glass being refilled.

"How do you fair?" She asked, pressing the cool glass in his hands.

"I'm…" how was he really? Hopeless? Directionless?

Now that he'd confirmed Daud can predict his actions, if not actually read his thoughts and intentions he wasn't sure what to do anymore. A part of him wanted to rebel, scream, fight, bite, and claw his way to freedom. But the sensible part of him held him in check. There was little sense in allowing them to cut his life short. He needed to make the most of what time he had left and if an opportunity presented itself he'd attempt an escape.

Though it would be wise to create a backup plan… should he get caught.

A way to go out on his own terms.

"Garrett?"

He drifted back to the woman before him, pulling himself away from that line of thinking that would have no doubt consumed him. "I'm-I'm fine… just…" he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm tired."

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder and he dropped his hand to regard Doc.

"There is no need to lie to me. I well know that trapped look. If I knew of a way I could ease you I would do it." her sad smile calmed him more than he cared to admit. "Though personal experience has taught me that is a journey one must take on their own for it to have any lasting effects."

"Are you telling me to save myself?" he scoffed. "Because no offence but that's lousy advice."

"You are strong enough, but no. No one should have to save themselves. Everyone needs at the very least a kind word to bolster them enough to fight. Most are too shy or too prideful to ask."

Garrett took a few sips of his water and crossed his legs on the bed so he was a bit more comfortable. "Asking for my freedom is also not your best advice, my lady."

She smiled and folded her hands in front of her, "I see. You assume I was speaking of Daud as your enemy. Of truth, the real enemy is much more relentless than a mere human."

"Look if this is a religious thing-"

She sounded exasperated as she interrupted him. "I speak of that voice that is telling you to give up and give in. No matter the circumstance death is rarely the answer."

"Says the woman who had a party after her husband died."

She chuckled and rolled her eyes, "Averting the subject will not make it any less true." Her eyes seemed centuries older as they honed in on him. "Your death would be such a tragedy, would you not agree?"

Garrett looked away and finished his water, it suddenly tasting sour. "You read minds too, Doc?"

"Not at all." she whispered. "I simply have battled that particular demon and thus know how it manifests."

With that she briskly left the room and clicked the door shut behind her.

Garrett left the glass on his end table and dropped his head in his hands, allowing himself just a moment of weakness. Was she right? Would it be better to live out his life as a slave than to not live at all?

He didn't believe in any form of afterlife. He couldn't afford to. If what the churches said was true… well Senior was being tortured and Garrett simply couldn't believe that. He couldn't think of a single sin that would justify eternal torment.

Especially given this life and its hardships.

Especially given the fact that Senior had treated Garrett so well. He was well aware that many people would have gawked at a child learning to steal, being encouraged by an adult. But it was what Garrett had always been good at, and it was a skill he loved.

And if no one had taught him, he'd have learned anyway.

People judge until the responsibility is put to them.

Not a single person in that City showed him any pity. They didn't offer him bread let alone a home. But Senior had seen talent and he took the burden and used it to his advantage.

Garrett simply couldn't cast that in a selfish light.

The water he'd guzzled weighing heavily in his gut, he kicked his covers to the floor and finished dressing. He didn't give a damn one way or another about Daud's wishes but he didn't want Doc to catch grief over his stubbornness. His stomach clenched uncomfortably as he made his way to the door, protesting to the lack of food and perhaps too much water a little too quickly, but he forced himself to ignore it. Doc had promised him food soon and he believed her so he could wait.

...None of Daud's followers can use the mark as you can now…

That voice he'd dreamed of echoed around the room, freezing his ungloved hand above the doorknob. The mark of the outsider pulsed with power, swelling with light and then receding… to a darkness not unlike the vastness of the Outsider's black eyes. Garrett slowly drew the hand back from the doorknob to inspect the mark farther.

...None of Daud's followers can use the mark as you can now…

Garrett's eyebrows pulled together hard as the urge to channel the mark became nearly overwhelming. He turned back to his desk and channeled the void, the glow of the target of his transversal landing squarely in the middle of his desk.

But it was normal, it was the only power he'd inherited from Daud and it didn't feel any different.

Feeling foolish for his paranoia, he shook his head and cancelled out the power. Not seeing much sense in using it unless he was in the field or training. The burn started up again however, more insistent than the first time. He glared at the mark and channeled it once again-

-Just as an urgent knock sounded at his door, "You alive in there?" Thomas' muffled question vibrated through the wood.

"In a minute." Garrett growled as panic clawed at the back of his throat, something in his instincts telling him whatever he was doing should be kept from Daud if at all possible.

He activated the power again, focusing in on the book, he wasn't entirely certain what he hoped to achieve. He just felt he needed to do… something. When nothing seemed to happen he acted without thinking and sliced his glowing hand upward.

A spike made of… shadow speared through the hard cover, at his bark of surprise it dispelled, evaporating like inky mist. He slowly inched over to the desk and lifted the book cautiously. The spike had drilled right through the center of the book, leaving a neat little hole only about the size of a crossbow bolt.

He'd never seen that power before, in fact most of Daud's men could only perform traversals. What made Garrett so special? A chill at the back of his neck had him glancing at the corner of the room that had transformed in his nightmare.

The rickety old armchair sat all by its lonesome, caked in a layer of dust Garrett hadn't bothered to mess with since he had no use for the thing.

He brought the mark into his line of vision and narrowed his eyes at it. That had to have been a nightmare. A realistic one, sure but it couldn't be possible in the real world.

Could it?

Garrett rubbed at his temples and then ran his fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp. He missed his quiet, safe City. He missed the predictability. He missed.. Gods.. he missed his home.

And he missed not feeling like a fool at every turn on this bloody, pathetic excuse of a capital.

He shook his hands out, hoping to banish the chills. He felt as though he had eyes on him. He was being watched, he was sure of it. It was a strange feeling, knowing he was right and altogether wrong at the same time.

He'd had similar feeling once before when he'd first come to Dunwall.

Thinking it had to be Daud's influence he squared his shoulders and pulled himself together. It was a struggle but using a breathing technique he'd been taught as a child, he managed to calm the frantic flutter that was his heartbeat and relax the tense muscles of his shoulders and back, stomach and chest.

He'd be damned if he let that man know he could get under his skin simply by watching him.

A familiar annoyance filled him, and he took comfort in it.

Annoyance was better than sorrow. Or self pity. He couldn't afford to slip down into thoughts like that. He needed to keep his wits about him if he was going to break free.

No prison was infallible.

Not even this one.

He steeled himself and marched to the door, knowing he'd dawdled too long already.

Doc was chatting with Thomas in the hall when Garrett exited his room. She was giggling at something he'd said or done obviously because the man's chest was inflated with pride as he leaned on the wall, curiously close to her. "Sir Thomas, you are simply incorrigible. I must watch myself around you."

Garrett scoffed, bringing both sets of eyes to him. Believe me, sweetheart, you're the only one who doesn't have to watch herself around him. He offhandedly thought to himself as he passed them.

Her "excuse me." didn't really register but he could feel the both of them following him. Clearly, he'd interrupted something less than innocent because the air around them became increasingly awkward on the way to Daud's office.

They passed the usual, random, patrols and slipped into the office almost unnoticed.

Almost.

Daud's eyes met his but quickly returned to Billie who stood before him with her arms crossed over her chest, her stance firmly braced in a truly arrogant manner, and her shoulders tense. Something was irritating her.

It was probably Garrett.

Garrett scoffed, what was he thinking? It was always him.

As she spoke Garrett found a dark little alcove that was close enough that he could hear but not barging in on the conversation.

"It's been a challenge getting anything from Kent but we managed to have one of our men pose as a guard. He was able to get a verbal message out." Billie explained, "that bloody Lord Protector nearly killed him. Luckily, Kent isn't a half-wit. He left the ring in the library where the entrance to the safe room is. On a bookshelf, behind a bust of the Empress's late father."

Daud crossed his arms over his chest and his frown deepened, "When is he scheduled for execution?"

Billie shook her head, the muscle in her jaw ticking with irritation, "a week from today."

"And a great deal sooner, I'd imagine, if he talks." Thomas tacked on.

"I already told you that wasn't going to happen." Daud barked. He pinned a glare on the whaler standing guard behind him. "We know in what cell he is being kept in, correct?"

The whaler clapped a fist over his chest and bowed slightly at his master. "Yes sir."

"Good. Give the information to the thief."

The novice reached in his coat as he crossed the room and produced an envelope that had never been sealed. "Why me?" Garrett asked, feeling his brow crumple.

"Because you are the only person so far I've been able to send that the Lord Protector hasn't nabbed."

"So what? You want to give him another shot at it?"

"No." Daud replied curtly. "I want you to get Kent safely out of prison."

Garrett's jaw dropped and he shook his head, "so, enlighten me since I've never met him, Kent is about the size of a thumbtack, right? Because if not, He's shit outta luck having me bust him out."

"Told you." Billie scoffed at Daud pointedly.

"You can pick locks, can't you?" Daud growled.

"Well… yeah but-"

"-Then you have skills beyond most of my masters here."

"Oh come on! Some of your men-"

"-You are the only one." Daud barked, cutting Garrett off.

"Come again." Garrett asked, not believing his ears.

"Lockpicking is a skill only you possess."

"But… when you imprisoned me you said…"

"I was mocking you." Daud pointed out. "I had no idea you'd be so valuable. I had no idea you had such a skill. Not until you actually showed me. That's why I insisted you train my men. It's no easy thing to learn, you say you learned it as a child. I'm impressed. I wish I had gotten my hands on your mentor. I can't imagine what he would have brought into the fold."

Anger swirled in Garrett's gut. "He'd have died before he joined you." Garrett growled.

"Be that as it may. Thank him. If he taught you this, he's the only reason I've left you breathing."

Garrett considered this. It did make sense. There were many men willing to follow Daud. Garrett was a nuisance. An irritation because he didn't have the stomach to take life. Had he been just some pickpocket off the street, he wouldn't have lasted long. But being the only person who could get into a locked room without a key? That was a marketable skill.

That was worth a little headache from time to time.

The amount of leeway allowed to him made sense now. But it only gave Garrett the realization that he was on a short tether. A leash. The single thread holding his life was his skill as a lockpick.

A cold dread unfurled in his gut. And he was grateful Daud's men were too hard-headed to learn the finesse. The realization hit him like Zachary and his "fists of iron".

If he was successful in teaching his men… well there wasn't any reason to keep him alive, was there?

But Daud offering up that little tidbit of info? Freely? If he meant to kill Garrett, he wouldn't have told him the only reason he was keeping him alive. So was there another reason or had he not truly meant to tell him as much? Was it desperation that tipped his hand? Should Garrett continue to train them or should he refuse? Where did he go from here?

Had Garrett earned a level of trust?

Garrett's head spun from the internal back and forth. Likely, Daud had given him just enough information to keep him guessing and put him in this very tailspin. "Damn me…" he muttered, rubbing at his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What was that?" Daud cracked a grin.

Garrett hesitated before answering. Perhaps he was closer to the latter mark than he realized. "Nothing."

Daud glossed over it. Clearly through screwing with Garrett's mind, for now at least. "Well what do you say? You're so hard up on not taking lives. How's about you save one."

"That a request?"

Daud chuckled but it sure as hell held no humor, more a sinister promise that Garrett hoped he'd never see fulfilled. "Do you think you're funny, boy?"

"No." Garrett sighed, "Just hoping you'd come to your senses."

Help - Papa Roach.