Post-ShB spoilers beware. And possible other spoilers pre-post-ShB spoilers beware.
It had been a year since then, when he had forcefully taken the test-vessel from the Exarch, not allowing the man who had not only invested his sweat, but literally his blood and essence as well, to sacrifice more than he should have.
It was a fair transaction, he believed. For someone who decided to take on a pet project of investigating Eden and spent most of his time relegating it to his faux daughter, he felt that he needed to do more.
Thancred's subconscious would not have allowed for him to stand idly by as he continued to collapse and become short of breath, doing nothing in progressing their goal of returning to the Source, while everyone else tirelessly strived to do more to reach home.
He was still bitter about it. The vestige of the essence of the Exarch that hung around his neck always served to remind him of that, but despite this shortcoming, he couldn't–wouldn't throw the damn thing away.
And now here he was. Doing nothing, being unemployed, and…
"Papa…I'm hungwy."
Dealing with a kid.
Thancred pulled himself out of his brooding thoughts, turning to look towards the small bundle of hyperactive nuclear energy that had leaned on his leg.
"Yeah. Alright kid," He replied, pushing himself off the coach, with his movement signaling for the pink haired child to remove herself from his leg.
Stepping into the kitchen and swinging the refrigerator door open, he took inventory, wondering what he could make for the young child.
"All that's left is one egg…and two slices of ham," he muttered. Shit. And she was going to eat all of it.
Pulling out the plastic gallon of milk that was nearly empty, he twisted the cap off and gave it a sniff. A putrid smell immediately struck his nose and he recoiled in response.
"And the milk spoiled. Great."
Tossing the milk into the trash, he took the egg and ham and began frying them, taking to his thoughts once more.
He knew it was a bad idea taking this kid in. She was sucking up all of his resources like no tomorrow and unemployment was not going to hit for another three days.
Even in Eorzea, taking care of children was expensive. The unspoken rule that seemed to permeate throughout all of Eorzea, and even the First, was that you should not have a child until you're ready.
And here he was: stuck, unemployed, and with a child he'd picked up off the streets no more than two days ago. If he didn't know any better, he would think this was a wonderful time to have a kid.
…
Just kidding.
He didn't even have proper parenting skills! His 'daughter' in the First already came as an adolescent, and she bore the mantle that his first love donned too. Sure, she was young and naive and careless and reckless and…more, and he dealt with it, sure.
But this was a literal kid he was dealing with here. He had no experience dealing with this!
Not only that, but what about when he inevitably gets saved? Would she be left alone to fend for herself again?
"Papa," a high pitched voice came from around the corner.
Scrambling the egg and turning the ham, he turned to greet the voice, her head poking through the corner. How long had she been standing there?
"Yeah, kid?"
"Anya," she responded quietly, before continuing, "Am I…no good?"
He remained quiet, his eyebrow raised quizzically. How did she know what he was thinking?
"...No."
He so badly wanted to answer yes. That it was a mistake picking her up. But he knew that at least here, she had a chance of surviving. She had a roof over her head and whatever food was available to her, compared to when he saw her stumbling about in the dead of night, having run away from an orphanage according to her. Here was exponentially better for her than the streets.
And he was not going to just abandon a child all by their lonesome like that.
She only continued to stare at him in response, unmoving from her spot, as if she did not believe him.
The sound of grumbling, however, deemed that her survivability was more important than defiance. He messily plopped the creamy scrambled egg and ham onto a plate and held it out for her to grab.
She slowly moved from the corner and towards the simple plate. It did not look pretty, but at least it smelled nice. Just as she was about to grab the plate from his hands, another grumbling sound was heard, and she pulled her hands away from the plate.
"Papa needs to eat too," she said.
Thancred shook his head in response.
"It's important for you to eat. You're still growing," He replied, pushing the plate onto her hands. She was right though. It was important for him to eat. How would he be able to get back to everyone else if he was dead?
Imagine that though. Thancred Waters, the group's best tank and saboteur, he who had been left to fend for himself since before he could remember, done in by starvation.
After Anya took the plate and walked over to the couch to consume her food, he walked to his room, which was empty save for a rolled up sleeping bag and a folded chair and small table that served as a desk.
His white coat was folded neatly on the desk while his gunblade, which he had not touched since arriving here, lay dormant beside it, collecting dust over the year he was here.
After all, why would he have needed it? There was no threat to this world. It was peaceful. Quiet. And that was why he was hoping for his friends to come and save him. Because he needed to be out there. To be fighting for something.
And if he couldn't do that, then…
Slipping his coat on and heading out of his room, he saw Anya had finished her meal, tippy-toeing to drop the plate into the sink.
"I'll be going out today, so you stay here."
"Ooh! Papa's going on an adventure? I wanna gooooo!"
Just as he opened the door, he felt a weight clutch to his leg.
"What? No! I'm going out looking for a job!" Thancred replied, shaking his leg to loosen the girl's surprisingly strong grip.
Four hours of wandering the streets, heading into each establishment that had a 'For Hire' sign. Four hours of rejection.
"I'm sorry, we need clean individuals, no tattoos showing."
"I'm sorry, we want people that don't have families to care for."
"I'm sorry, we're looking for someone with a Bachelor's."
"I'm sorry, we want Eden Alum."
And so on, so forth.
And now, Thancred and Anya were sitting on a bench at a nearby park, watching children play with their dogs or their parents on the grass. Families chatted amongst each other happily, without a care in the world.
"Why the hell is it so hard finding a job…?" The silver haired man mulled quietly into his hands.
"S'okay, papa," he heard Anya say, consoling him by patting him on the back.
Was he going to have to resort to stealing again? He hated that. He had grown past that. Finally established himself as a Scion and earned a stable income. And now, it was like he was back in the streets of Ul'dah once again.
"Ugh, how could a parent take his kid to the park and not do anything with them?"
"What a terrible parent, and look at his child's clothes. How dirty."
"Perhaps we should call the SSS? Or maybe CPS?"
There was no catching a break was there? Thancred looked up to see various parents mutter as they walked by, giving the duo passing glances.
He only sighed in response, pushing himself off the bench.
"Come on Anya, let's…go home. I'll see what I can do about the food situation," he said as he began to walk. He soon heard the soft steps that took in tandem with his.
As they left the premises of the park, he immediately turned his attention to the far side of the park, where the cleanly kept grass met the edge of a luscious forest. A seemingly unassuming forest with a path branching from the park into the forest.
Despite the fact that some families had strolled through the little forest, he felt eyes in his direction, though not particularly at him.
'Perhaps…Anya…?'
As he led the tiny girl home, he didn't notice the slight jolt and the wariness that engulfed her eyes as she checked her surroundings.
It was nearing midnight when she had finally fallen asleep. Donning his long white coat once again, a burlap sack, and his gunblade, dusted off and slung to the slide, he slipped down the hall and out the door silently.
Despite the heaviness of his boots and blade, and being at the forefront of action, years of being a rogue and a ninja were not forgotten.
When he made his way out of the apartment, he felt the cool breeze of the night. His only sources of light were the moon and various street lights.
He noted, however, that just because it was nigh midnight, that did not mean the streets were empty. Every once in a while, a car (they were not called Regalia, apparently), sped down the streets.
'Through the roofs it is, then,' he thought, as he slipped into one of the various alleyways and made his way up to the building tops. An acrobatic feat that many would question, given that most, if not all, of the people of this world seemed to lack.
He found his first target as he weaved between roofs–a small supermarket, with various fruit and vegetables, for some reason, still out front. Whomever had closed down the shop that night would awaken with no job the next day. Thancred felt a tinge of guilt as he dropped down in front of the exposed goods, but he had a child and himself to feed. There was no point in being sorry if it would ensure their survival.
Filling the burlap sack with a few fruit and vegetables, he surveyed the vulnerable market.
Breaking in through the front was obviously a terrible idea, and though this world did not seem to have progressed far in the way of technology, he had no clue if alarms or cameras were a thing yet. Well…he knew that cameras were a thing, but if they were used commercially was another issue entirely.
For fucks sake, they had yet to develop a means of contactless communication yet!
Breaking free of the random thoughts regarding the ways of this world, he made his way behind the establishment, finding a stair that led to the backdoor.
A hunch had told him to simply walk up and push the door open, and he did just that. The door opened with no resistance at all and before him was a treasure trove of sustenance.
"Well, I can chalk the legumes left outside an instance of carelessness, but this," he muttered to himself as he allowed himself in, "someone's getting fired."
He rummaged through the various isles, sticking various canned goods, instant noodles, and bread into his sack.
After a bit more strolling and more items entering his bag, he retraced his steps, ensuring that there was no evidence that he was here save for some stolen goods. As long as nothing traced back to him, then he was all set.
Shutting the door behind his back, he took the roofs once again and made his way home in record time.
Now it was time to–
Thancred glanced down where he was standing. Dusty footprints, made noticeable against the hardwood floor with the illumination of light from the hallway, were facing inwards towards the door. Those footprints were much too big to be his, the tread pattern didn't match his boots, and so that must have meant…
His eyes widened in realization as he shoved the door open, hearing a pained groan as the door seemingly slammed into a wall, and he dashed into his moonlit illuminated abode. Dropping the sack of goods onto the ground, he gripped the hilt of his gunblade and pulled the door back, revealing an unknown man that comedically stuck to the wall before crumpling flat onto the ground.
Sensing that this man was not the only invader in his flat, he instinctively dodged a few silenced bullets from behind him, before dashing to the assailant with remarkable speed, the back of his gunblade slamming straight onto the skull of the assailant.
With the man folding unceremoniously onto the floor and no other threats seemingly lurking about, Thancred urgently ran towards Anya's room.
"Anya," he shouted, bursting the door open and finding nothing but her favorite pink and green chimera doll on the ground. The little girl was nowhere in sight.
His mind racked with different kinds of possibilities regarding why these men would seemingly invade and kidnap Anya, but to no avail, he could not find any possible reason.
He bent down to pick the little doll up before sensing too late that someone had snuck up behind him, and a loud thunk was heard before blacking out.
She saw nothing in the darkness, but she felt absolutely terrified. Her blindfold felt too tight, almost giving her a headache if she had them on for any longer, the duct tape across her mouth made it hard to breathe, mostly because she still breathed through her mouth, and the bindings against her arms and legs were uncomfortable, making her wrists and ankles hurt.
Footsteps echoed through whatever room they were in.
She didn't know how to count and had no way of keeping track, but it sounded like…a lot.
"We got him too boss," she heard a disgruntled man say, "whoever that was residing with her really hurt. He had this strange weapon and everything. Pretty sure he killed Devin, too…"
'Oh no, they got papa!' She cried internally.
"Good work, Nguyen. I'll make sure you get that time off you asked for," she heard a rough and deep voice speak.
A thud resounded the room, as if a body had been dropped onto the ground. Though she had no idea what kind of sound that would make. She only knew that whatever they dropped sounded really heavy.
Suddenly, she felt the blindfolds loosen from around her head before being removed. What she saw before her was a dimly lit room, various scary men scattered around, and a stocky man, with long light brown hair (but not as long as hers!) and a short beard in front of her.
"Well well," the man sneered evilly in front of her, reminding her of one of those villains she saw in a show she caught a glimpse of a long time ago, "You sure didn't last long did ya?"
"Thought you could get away forever?"
She stiffened in fear and her eyes became tearful.
'Are they here to bring me back to the lab…labra…scary people?'
The man lit a cigarette in front of her, causing her nose to scrunch up because of the smell.
"Hey boss, I know we were supposed to capture her, but don't you think it's a bit cruel to light a cigarette in front of–"
The man's words were cut short as the sound of a silenced pistol fired, followed by a heavy thud. So that was what a body hitting the floor sounded like.
A man had just…gotten killed in front of her.
Her tearful eyes became overloaded, as she felt wetness drip down her cheeks.
"Oh don't you worry. I'm not gonna hurt you," the man replied casually, "I'm sending you back to where you belong and I'm collecting my money on the way out."
"Although," the villain looked at the ground right beside her, where a bound man with a sack over his head lay, "I can't say the same about the man you were with this whole time."
The villain man pulled the sack off the bound man's head, revealing her silver-haired father, eliciting a gasp of pain and a sharp intake of breath shortly after.
"Pwbhwbhb!" She tried to yell against her muzzle.
Picking up what looked like a cross between a gun and a sword, the stout man caressed the weapon slightly, fascinated by its appearance.
"What the hell do you think you're doing to Anya?!"
Her eyes widened.
"Oh, nothing of importance to you, though I must say," the villain lifted the gun-sword-thingy, "what an interesting weapon you got here. I think I'd like to try it out by blasting your head off."
Anya could only stare in horror as the man pointed the weapon at her silver-haired papa.
"Do it then."
Those terrifying words echoed in her ears as she watched the villain's mouth expand into a nasty grin. The evilest of evil grins.
"With pleasure."
Anya had shut her eyes in anticipation. She did not want to see what was going to happen to the man who had piled her on top of his burdens.
Click.
The sound never came. Maybe it was like the evil guy's gun that was quiet?
"Wh–"
What came next was the sound of a surprised yelp, and the clickety clackety of a metal object hitting the floor.
As she was about to open her eyes, she heard her papa speak.
"Don't open your eyes, kid!"
And so she didn't. For the next five minutes, all she heard was butts being kicked, pained groans, liquid splattering, and heavy things hitting the floor. And the next thing she knew, she felt herself being lifted and carried away, a stinging pain accompanying her face as she felt the tape rip off her mouth.
"P-papaaaabwaaaaahhh!"
She started crying. Bawling into her savior's shoulder as he took her further and further away.
"It's alright kid, you're fine. You'll be fine…"
"I don't know what those men wanted with her, but she can't stay here. Perhaps I could drop her off to the police? No. They'll question the blood and the weapon. Maybe I should send her to another orphanage? No. She ran away from one to begin with, and she'll be back to square one. Maybe I can–"
"Please don't leave me papa…I'm…I'm a good bargain…," she muttered amidst her sobs, shaking slightly as she pressed herself further into her papa.
She didn't want to leave. She didn't want him to leave. She didn't want to leave him. He was the first person since she was born that was willing to accept that she was just a child. To treat her like a child. Not like some lab experiment designed for world peace.
She felt all movement stop and she opened her eyes. Instead of a dimly lit room, she found herself at the park where her father and she sat at the bench.
"Are you…sure about that kid? You've only known me for a few days. Hell, I could be a terrible person for all you know," he replied hesitantly, setting her down.
She felt her feet touch the ground and she looked up at him, teary-eyed. She said nothing, but she hugged his leg and nodded.
'I know you're not a bad person, papa. I know because you have friends that you care for. And that you want to help them.'
It was silent. There was no movement.
The silence was broken with a sigh.
"Then…let's go home. But so you know, I can't afford the luxuries you deserve, but…I'll do my best."
Subconsciously, she peered into his thoughts.
"There will come a point in which I must leave her. Then…I at least need to make sure she's secure."
Though her heart dropped at the fact that he will need to go, she smiled into his leg. Because he said he was going to do his best, and his best was already leagues above what she'd ever experienced in her four (or was it five?) years of life.
"Home!"
Kehahahaha. This is my first foray into the world of writing, so I hope that this is up to standard. Always wanted to get to writing a fanfic, but...well. Who knew that a certain point in ShB made my head fill with all of these ideas?
As for updates go, there's no definitive update schedule. We'll see how life goes. Thanks to anyone that reads this.
