Thank you to IntoTheDeep27, laren_njam38, josierose501, Anon, The-Right-Girl, Guest and AnnDarkwater92 for your reveiws/faves/follows! (Responses to reviews - which I used to do once upon a time via PM's - are now listed below. Let me know if you'd rather I leave this space clutter-free. I don't mind either way. Anyway, thank you, all my lovely reviewers!) I'm really sorry for the very protracted update. I won't lie; I did have some school stuff, but I was mostly just being lazy. Hopefully this chapter, which is a little lighter in tone than previous ones, will make up for it.

laren_njam38: Thank you! I'm glad you think Garrett's still in character! I'm really trying to make his interactions with/connection to Isabella as believable as possible. (Oh, and not that it matters at all really, but I'm actually a girl :P)

Anon: Thanks! I can see how the beginning wasn't the most interesting to read. Great to hear that the story's starting to pick up now for you. I hope you enjoy the rest :)

IntoTheDeep27: NO WORRIES :P Ooh, picking up old threads is always fun. The graphics must be amazing on new-gen consoles! Garrett is lovable in a strange sort of way, isn't he? And thanks! I've checked out some of your stories and though I'm not too familiar with Naruto, you seem to have a good hand in writing too.

josierose501: Thanks for the insightful review! I didn't think anyone would really notice or care for the little details, so I'm glad that you've found an appreciation for them. I hope my writing will continue to live up to your expectations. (Kinda nervous now… :P)

Guest: I hope this was worth the wait for you! Sorry again for the late update.

AnnDarkwater92: Aw, thanks! I feel honoured that my story is one of the few you're hooked onto! Haha I suppose we'll just have to wait and see.

Chapter 17

Garrett woke with a start, his eyes snapping open instantly. The room was shrouded in the velvety black cloak of night, much to his relief. The only source of light cast its gentle argent glimmers across the wooden flooring, allowing Garrett to make out the figure of a slight woman crouched over the water basin.

He groped at the thin fabric underneath him, struggling to make sense of his surroundings. His stirring caught the attention of the woman beside him, who gave him a small smile when she saw that he was awake.

"Are you feeling better?" She inquired, wringing out a clean cloth in her hands.

Garrett made to push himself up, but stopped abruptly when a stabbing pain tore through his arm. In an instant, Isabella was at his side. "No! Don't get up!"

"How long have I been out?" He groaned.

"Only a few days. Three at most." She gently eased him back down onto the tattered mattress. "You haven't moved an inch for days now. Your muscles need time to reacclimate to even the mildest of exercise."

He shrank away from her touch, then raised himself with his undamaged arm. "Believe me, I've gone longer without using them at all." His head throbbed as he sat up, but he ignored the mild discomfort. Tentatively, he placed his bare feet on the cold floor.

He paused for a moment. "You took off my boots?"

She gave a nervous laugh and cradled her hands. "My apologies, I thought you might be more comfortable without them."

Isabella stood in irritatingly close proximity to him, clear worry furrowing her delicate brows. She trailed a short distance behind him. Garrett resisted the urge to move out of her arms' reach. She had, after all, kept him alive for some time. He could grant her the small favour of allowing her to think that he needed or wanted her assistance.

"I suppose you don't need my help," she said as she backed away from him. Garrett sighed in relief.

"I'm fine." He turned towards the window.

Outside, all was silent. Above, the sky was almost clear. Beyond the wisps of grey cloud which swirled and billowed in the wind, the stars twinkled against a black silken backdrop. Below, not a single person person roamed the ash-lined streets. It was the perfect night.

"You aren't actually considering going out there again, are you?" She asked incredulously.

Something about her tone, which to him suggested ownership or a sense of intimacy, irked Garrett.

"What I have in mind is the last thing I'd like to be doing on a night like this," he said with a clenched jaw. By the look on her face, he could tell that his response had offended her. How very aristocratic of her, he thought to himself. Only the rich would huff if someone so much as glanced in their direction the wrong way.

"And what might that be?" A coolness stilted her words, but her face remained impassively collected.

Garrett paused, looking anywhere but in her direction, before he forced himself to continue. "This… arrangement isn't permanent, as I'm sure you've guessed by now."

The mask of indifference guarding her features faltered slightly. "Clearly," she spoke through taut lips. "Do you wish for me to leave now?"

A part of him was tempted to say yes, but he refrained. "You wouldn't last one night out there. It's dangerous for anyone to be out given the circumstances, let alone a noblewoman. You'd be hanged from the gallows if not trampled or stabbed to death first."

"Yes, I am rather well acquainted with the ruffians of the City." She dropped her facade of stoicism when she continued. "In all sincerity, I thank you once more for saving me. You had no reason to do so, and yet you still did."

Isabella's eyes crinkled slightly as a smile graced her face. "You know, you claimed before that you weren't a good person."

"I don't recall saying that," he said over his shoulder.

"Well, perhaps you didn't say it in those exact words, but you understand my point. Tell me - if that is true, why did you save me, on multiple occasions?"

Garrett could hear her walking towards him, just shy of a few paces away. He kept his gaze locked on the rooftops below, determined not to indulge the young woman in her childishly unwary tete-a-tete. She wasn't just treading on thin ice, she was stomping across it without any thought.

"How does saving the life of someone who doesn't deserve death make a person good? I did it out of mere obligation. Don't confuse that for actual concern. If it was your father up there instead of you, I wouldn't have interfered at all."

"He's not my -" She turned her face away, swallowing thickly before continuing. "And he is - was, a good man. Better than most people thought him to be."

Garrett caught sight of the glint of tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"But that's beside the point." She swiped her eyes swiftly with the back of her hand. "You may not consider yourself a good man, and perhaps you're right, but possessing a sense of 'mere obligation,' of the most basic level of humanity, marks the makings of one in my experience. It's just a pity such people are becoming less and less commonplace."

She padded beside him, resting her forearms on the windowsill. "Thus begins the death of altruism." She flashed a dim, hollow smile filled with all the regret and woe of the world. "That is, if it ever did exist at all."

A tentative silence crept upon them both, unrelentingly tense and pervasive. Finally, Garrett spoke.

"Everything else aside," he said with a sigh, "you'll still need to be able to live out there."

She glanced in his direction. "How do you propose I do that?"

"You'll need to live in the shadows, unnoticed and inconsequential as any other street urchin. You'll have to give up the name Isabella Northington, to start."

"Again," she interjected, "he wasn't my father, and I'm not a child. But I believe I'm beginning to see your point."

He straightened and began circling her. She remained as still as stone under his gaze, but her eyes followed his movements.

Without so much as a swish of his clothing, he extended a hand and reached for the clasp on her jewelled necklace with feather-light fingers. "Which means you won't be needing this."

Isabella gave a small cry of indignity when the necklace slipped off her neck.

"Consider this a small fee for my saving your life."

She scoffed. "Oh, so now I am under an obligation to you."

He shrugged, running a finger over the fine detailing of the golden chain and polished rubies, before pocketing the jewelry.

"Fair enough. But as I recall, I saved your life as well. A life for a life," she quipped.

Garrett rested his back against the wall. His limbs strained under his weight, but he would die before revealing any more of his weakness to her. "And as I recall, I saved your life - on multiple occasions."

She stared back at him with a quirk in her mouth before sighing in defeat. "Well never mind that trinket. It was only a gift from a rather affected suitor. I wouldn't be surprised if the necklace itself were a forgery."

"No, it's authentic," Garrett said as he recalled the weight and lustre of the chain and gems.

"Well, whatever the case, I assure you it is no great loss to me."

He suspected that she was telling the truth.

"The dress will have to go as well." He paused when he saw the look on her face. "I don't mean right now."

"Well, of course not." She averted her gaze, a hot blush creeping upon her cheeks.

With a small exclamation, she motioned for him to wait, then rushed down the stairs. He was tempted to follow her, but knew that his legs would fail him before the second flight. A moment later, she reappeared with a bundle of musty cloth in her arms.

"I was doing some exploring to pass the time while you were resting. I hope you don't mind."

His jaw clenched. He wondered whether this girl had any boundaries.

"Anyway, I stumbled across these old burlap dresses amidst a pile of gar-" She stopped, searching for the right word. "Of antiquities. They're terribly dusty and ragged, but –"

"They'll be perfect," he interrupted.

"Precisely what I was about to say."

An impish grin spread across her face. Garrett had a suspicion that she was enjoying the situation despite the obvious danger that came with it. Or perhaps, he thought, that was exactly what she enjoyed about it.

"If you give me a moment, I'll change into these."

Garrett turned back to the window as she began undressing, mildly surprised by the trust she held for him. Her life was ultimately in his hands, whether either of them willed it or not.

He let his gaze wander. Although he knew he would not see anyone, his eyes searched vaguely in the hopes of finding the elusive ghost of his past. He wondered briefly whether he had truly lost his mind; whether or not she was actually here in the City. Perhaps he himself was under the influence of the Gloom - or even the Primal. It wouldn't have been the first time that something of the like had happened to him.

A gentle clearing of the throat snapped him out of his thoughts and brought his attention back inside. Isabella stood rather comfortably in a plain threadbare dress, looking to him as if he were her only lifeline in the treacherous stretch of an endless sea.

"We start now," he said as he made his way carefully down the stairs, motioning for her to follow.

Had he kept his gaze on the streets a moment longer, he would have caught sight of a pair of gleaming eyes blazing up at him from below for a split second before they disappeared into darkness once more.