Actions

Work Header

So You Want to Marry Daisy*

Chapter 2

Summary:

Craig and Clyde meet Gary, who tells them exactly what they're getting into.

...It doesn't sound that bad.

Notes:

hiii i promise the zombie au is also getting done I just have more motivation for this right now.
thanks

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Craig pressed his knees together while sitting on the bed, rubbing at his eyes. He was tired, it’d been a few hours of waiting now, and still nothing. They could’ve skipped town by now…be gone before anyone had noticed a thing. But Clyde had remained stubborn the entire time in staying put, so here they were. 

 

The brunette himself was curled up on the same flat, hard mattress, clutching his bag to his chest as it rose and fell slowly with every breath he took. Leaning back slightly to peer down at his face, Craig huffed quietly, grabbing his jacket from where it lay on the edge of the bed, for he was planning on putting it on before they left. 

 

No matter how well the blankets they had here worked, he refused to let Clyde sleep with them if it was their last night. They were ratty, dirty, and smelled horrible. At least the jacket was in better condition. Craig stood awkwardly, craning his neck to prevent his hat and head from brushing against the roof, draping the makeshift blanket over his body and backing up slightly. 

 

This room was too small. God, it was suffocating. He needed some air, and he found himself hesitantly backing up towards the door. He’d left his bag next to Clyde, maybe a reminder that he was still here in the case that Clyde woke up in sweats. It wasn’t often that he had a nightmare, and it’d been years since his last one…but Craig always found himself ready for one just in case. 

 

It’d been raining almost since they’d gotten home, and he gratefully welcomed it. He reveled in the sounds that the rain made against the rooftops, tiny pinks before the droplets came rolling off the homes, gathering in puddles and tiny trickles downhill. He loved watching the water seep between bricks, places nothing else could go. 

 

Taking a few steps out from the entrance of their board, he sighed quietly, raising his head serenely to let the raindrops melt down his skin, indifferent to the way his clothes were slowly growing soaked. His lashes fluttered every once in a while, combatting the water that tried to coat and subsequently drown them. 

 

The clouds above were a dark, tumultuous overcast, looming over the city. They groaned and bellowed, crying their eyes out over the innocent people of the city. He loved the way they cried, quiet and hiccuping until there were rolls of thunder, gasps, and loud cries. The sky was breaking down and letting it out. 

 

He was more than happy to receive it. 

 

Glancing away from the sky, he found himself glancing at the scattered puddles across the street instead, the water gathering in indents in the ground. He hummed, carefully moving over and crouching down, peering into the water. It was growing deep enough that it was able to hold a reflection, and he pursed his lips, peering down at himself. 

 

It was strange to see himself, so familiar and yet so different. His skin was as dark as it ever was despite the dirt, Clyde had once told him that it reminded him of the warm feeling that watching a sunrise gives you. Craig personally never saw what he meant, but he did enjoy it nonetheless. 

 

He knew that if he ever had a photograph of himself from when he was younger, his body unscarred, constant eyebags gone from his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to recognize himself. He wouldn’t look in a reflection and say that yes, this is the same young boy who grew up in comfort, with a loving family…and his baby sister. Frowning quietly, he shook his head, watching the puddle ripple and endure more tears from the sky. 

 

He yawned slightly, hearing the roll of tires against rain-soaked cement, and he glanced up curiously. 

 

What a sight. A sleek, black limo was driving into the area. There wasn’t really any mistaking who it was for, barely anyone in the levels this low could afford a car for themselves, using any form of public transportation they could else they turn to just walking. A car on its own was likely a middle-class citizen coming down to check on businesses they had on the lower levels or anything similar. 

 

But those were always smaller, compact cars. This…this was a luxury. Something they bought simply because they had the money to. His eyes narrowed slightly as he stood, pulling himself away from the puddle and the face he couldn’t truly recognize. Out of habit, he pressed and smoothed his hair underneath his hat, knowing well that the white streak wasn’t visible. 

 

He hated people seeing it. It felt like walking around naked…hence why the hat never came off his head unless he were in far more… trusted company. Out of habit, some form of respect drilled into his head from a time he couldn't remember, he clasped his hands behind his back, standing as…calmly as possible. Who knew what horrible person they had in that car? 

 

A seasoned killer? The elites were overflowing with those, and sending one to grab them would be easy…they’d finish either of them off easily for sure if they attempted to escape. Or maybe it was some prisoner they had, forced to do dirty work like coming down to the lower levels…whoever it was in there, he knew they weren’t one of the actual elites.

 

The car gently rolled to a stop, and…a chauffeur came out of the door, walking around the car and patiently standing near the trunk. …For their things. Right. That…regrettably made sense. Of course, they wouldn’t spare someone important to get them, just a member of the hire. Rolling his eyes internally, he turned, pivoting to wake Clyde up. 

 

Stepping into their apartment for probably the last time, his footsteps were careful. If Clyde didn’t sleep like a limp log, he could probably pick him up and carry him to the car, as heavy as he was it’d have been doable, but since Clyde slept like he didn’t have any enemies, it made things…harder. To say the least.

 

Instead, he gently laid a hand on his shoulder, shaking him. Clyde didn’t want to wake up, at least not at first. He turned and curled up more underneath Craig’s jacket, eyes screwing stubbornly shut. Craig couldn’t blame him, if he could assume this was a dream, he wouldn’t want to wake up and figure out that it was a reality. 

 

Despite his stubbornness, eventually, Clyde’s lashes fluttered, blinking groggily up at Craig. His eyes were narrowed, vision blurry with sleep, and Craig sighed, trying to tug his brother to sit up. 

 

“Gotta go, man,” he mumbled, gently taking his jacket and putting it on his lap as he kept a hand on Clyde’s back. He didn’t want him to fall asleep again. Clyde shut his eyes tight for just a moment, sucking in a deep breath before getting up, reaching out blindly for Craig’s arm for balance. 

 

The ravenette took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly before grabbing their bags and leaving out the door. The storm outside had seemed to start up worse, the raindrops growing to be more frequent in number, not the gentle pattering they were just moments before. If that wasn’t a bad omen, he didn’t exactly know what else could be. 

 

The chauffeur held his hands out for their bags, and Craig nearly caught a glimpse of shock in his eyes at how light they were, even combined. It almost pissed him off, because when there was shock, pity was usually soon to follow, but he was too tired to do anything. Instead, he didn’t wait for him to open the back for them, instead tugging the door open himself, letting Clyde fall inside first. 

 

A clock flashed on the inside of the car, just a simple analog clock like one would find right above the radio. One in the morning…wow. He rolled his eyes, haphazardly kicking the dirt off of his shoes before climbing in himself. The car was…remarkably large. Clyde was already curled up, his cheek pressed against the cold window as he snoozed. 

 

Huffing out a fond breath, Craig snickered half-heartedly and rolled his eyes. He turned to look out his window, pressing his back into the plush seating. It’d been a long time since he’d been in something so…comfortable. Despite it all, he found himself feeling dirty like he was lowering the value of this car just by sitting in it. 

 

The chauffeur hummed to himself, whistling a tune as he slid into the driver’s seat, eyes flickering into the rearview mirror for just a moment. He and Craig made eye contact, and Craig’s breath caught in his throat momentarily. Then, the man just nodded slightly, turning his eyes towards the road as he started the car and began to pull out. 

 

“I assume you’ve not been briefed,” the man said, voice surprisingly…warm, for a supposed staff member. Like he’d not known much hardship in his years of work. He was an older gentleman, likely serving whatever family had sent the car to pick them up for many years. His hair was flecked with gray, dark complexion was filled with wrinkles. His eyes were warm as he looked back, almost in an amused way.

 

Craig frowned, resting his hand on Clyde. At least they weren’t being separated…not yet. 

 

After a pause, a very awkward, anxious pause, Craig figured out how to twist his tongue to form words, mumbling quietly. 

 

“...No sir. Only that we’re going to a safe house or something.” 

 

The man nodded quietly. Moonlight occasionally flickered in beams through the car windows, streaks of brightness across Craig’s skin only temporarily. Their driver hummed and tapped his fingers gently against the wheel before leaning over and turning on the radio, a soft melody filling the car. 

 

It was a station Craig would listen to often, late at night when he couldn’t sleep. He’d found it after salvaging an old radio and bringing it into their room…he wasn’t aware anyone from the upper levels would bother to listen to the same music as them. Making quick eye contact in the mirror once more, the driver nodded. 

 

“Well, if you’d like me to fill you in, I’d be more than happy.” 

 

His voice was deep, full and it felt like laying down in the sunlight. Craig cocked his head before nodding hesitantly. Any information was better than none. Yawning quietly, he leaned his head on Clyde, still watching the city go by, lights passing by fairly quickly. 

 

“Right, then. Well, first off, my name is Jerome. I work with the Rosewoods, I have since the current heir’s father was a young boy.” His voice was surprisingly fond. Craig bought none of it. But, he felt it was respectful to remain silent and simply listen. 

 

“They own a lot of the city, you know, practically the founders…Anyway, I know you are going to them, and your buddy there is to the Thorns. Of course, they aren’t your owners if that’s what you’re thinking, it’s very much an employment deal. Tonight, I drop you off at one of their safe houses.”



“...Do they not trust us?” Craig’s voice was quiet. He had no real idea why they’d go to a safehouse of all places, but he wasn’t arguing. The longer they stayed away, the better. But still, it felt right to ask. Jerome shrugged, waving his hand. 

 

“No, actually, they just don’t have the time tonight to get the contracts ready. One of their fellows, ah…Mister Harrison, I believe, will be coming to you both in the morning to get you fitted for new clothes, get you situated, and your contracts signed.”

 

“...contracts…” 

 

He didn’t see that coming. An actual contract…like a real employment situation? Jerome must’ve seen his strange look, because he laughed quietly, nodding. 

 

“Yes, and you’ll be allowed ample time to read and sign. …You do both know how to sign your names, right? If you cannot read, Mister Harrison would be more than happ—”

 

“We can read, thank you,” he interjected, voice a bit sour. He understood asking why, but it still felt like a jab. “How else would we have signed for the loan from the Board Girls?”

 

There was silence throughout the car for a moment. Craig didn’t want to continue their conversation much longer, and Jerome seemed to recognize that, glancing at him once with a sympathetic, almost saddened look before humming softly and turning up the music just slightly. 

 

Leaning on his brother, Craig furrowed his brows, observing his surroundings. The music that delicately flowed and danced throughout the car lulled him, just as the tires rumbling against dirt and cobbled roads did. He yawned, just once, leaning his cheek onto Clyde’s shoulder, curling his feet up. He didn’t care if the seats became muddied. 

 

He was tired. And he wanted to sleep.


…Clyde didn’t remember falling asleep. Well, that wasn’t fully true, he remembered being asleep, with Craig gently nudging and guiding him somewhere, his footsteps sluggish as he remained simply half awake before passing out again. 

 

But, he did remember waking up. He wasn’t at home anymore…so Craig had probably nudged him into a car. He yawned, stretching his arms up and over his head. It was fairly clear that they weren’t at home, anyway, seeing as the bed actually felt like something you would want to sleep on. With the mattress soft and plush, the pillows feeling like a blessing against his skin, he was tempted to just curl back up and go to bed. 

 

Craig was sleeping soundly in the bed next to him, curled up in a blanket and nearly drooling on the pillow. He stifled a laugh, leaning over and adjusting the hat on his head just slightly, covering the white tuft of hair. He knew they had to be in the safehouse, and Craig didn’t like anyone seeing the tuft…may as well help him cover it up. 

 

The singular room they were in was far greater than any others he’d been in, the ceiling rather high and lofty, and while they were small, there were windows lining the wall letting in warm sunlight. Far prettier than any shop in the lower levels, even, he felt himself wanting to explore. 

 

A door sat at the far end of the room, the cold floor serving to wake him up as he meandered over. For people who ruled the world, they had a surprising amount of hospitality for them…it was nice. Clyde found himself smiling dazedly as he pushed the door open as quietly as he could, expecting it to creak and wake up his brother.



Instead, it went and glided across the floor, barely making a sound besides the knob turning. The room was only a portion of the supposed safe house, with an entire fucking luxury apartment laid out in front of him. There was a fireplace in the corner, although it looked bare, it was clean, a fire already having been stoked, although it was simply smoldering now. 

 

Walking quickly over to it, he grabbed a handful of coal, not minding the dark smudges left on his hands as he tossed it onto the fire, watching it blare up and blister with life once again. Eyes temporarily captivated, he stared at the way the flames moved and danced. A note was pinned to the fireplace, and he furrowed his brow, reaching a hand out for it and peering down. 

 

There’ll be a visitor at noon, best be ready and dressed.

- Jerome

 

He furrowed his brow in confusion…Jerome? Who the hell…Glancing around, he made his way towards what looked like a kitchen area, the entire space having a rather…open floor plan. Not many walls, at least. He didn’t dare grab anything from the fridge, while he appreciated the sleep, he wasn’t going to eat anything he or Craig hadn’t prepared. He did get a glance at the clock, though…ten in the morning. 

 

Not much time…carefully, he slipped back into the room to wake Craig. 

 

By the time almost two hours had passed, they were dressed, having taken hot showers for the first time in…god, it had to have been months. Clyde felt like he’d scrubbed an entire layer of dirt off his skin, feeling like he was glowing more than a goddess would. His head felt lighter, his skin softer… He knew Craig felt a lot better, too, the shower loosening him up just slightly with all the warm water.

 

Of course, it was hard to tell unless you’d known him his whole life, but it was clear to Clyde just in the way he sat. His arms were still crossed, but they weren’t tight to his chest, resting more as he tapped his fingers against his arms. 

 

They’d brought their clothes, which, thankfully, they’d recently been able to clean. They were sure by the standards of the elites, it was garbage, but Clyde glanced in the mirror, doing a bit of a spin. He felt like a million dollars, and god did he look it!

 

“Stop doing that,” Craig muttered from where he sat outside the bathroom door, the clear sight of Clyde flexing making him roll his eyes, although a slight grin was cracked across his face as he examined his nails. The dirt from underneath them was gone, and he picked lightly at his cuticles. “It makes you look stupid.” 

 

“Stupid?!” Clyde gasped, turning around. His brows were furrowed in indignation. “Excuse you, I’m so hot—”



“Full of hot air, maybe—” 

 

Craig’s hat was yanked off of his head, the ravenette’s arms shooting out to try and grab it with a yelp. Clyde hollered with laughter, eyes scrunched up as he held it out of reach, using his foot to try and pin Craig in place where he sat. A quick grin spread across Craig’s face, almost tired entertainment as he hummed, easily grabbing Clyde’s foot and yanking it. 

 

With a panicked noise, Clyde threw his hat back at him, just barely moving his arms to brace for his fall. His palms smacked into the hardwood floor, eventually letting the rest of his body sink as he grumbled and groaned in pain.



Oouuuh….” he sucked in a breath, rolling onto his back. “You’re such a fuckin’ dick—”

 

He’d taken a lot worse hits than that so he was perfectly fine, but it still felt like the nice thing to do was lean down and help him up…but before he could, there was a knock on the door. Craig shifted, leaving Clyde groaning and curled up on the hardwood flooring. 

 

He yawned just a bit, stretching his arms and rolling his shoulders out before opening the door.

 

Behind it was a decently tall man, although Craig had to admit he did dwarf him just slightly, the man only coming up to his shoulder. He had bright blonde hair, sweeping over in a hairstyle that honest to god felt like it was a decade outdated. Yet, somehow, he pulled it off. 

 

Freckles lined his cheeks and his arms, at least from what Craig could see from the rolled-up sleeves of his pale blue button-up. He looked remarkably unscarred, just a few small ones lined up on his hands. Probably from menial work, if Craig was to guess. 

 

He flashed him a bright grin, clasping his hands in front of himself as he peered past Craig, looking at Clyde on the floor. There was silence in the room beside the hesitant groaning of Clyde, and Craig just…stared.

 

He watched the man’s smile falter just slightly, still looking unwaveringly friendly, although entirely confused by the situation. Craig sighed, pinching his nose. Clearly, they weren’t getting anywhere if he didn’t speak up.



“Are you Mister Harrison?” His voice was curt, tired eyes looking at the man. Upon being asked the question, he blinked a few times before straightening up and nodding with an even bigger grin than before…which was…unsettling to say the least. At least he seemed happy?

 

“That’s me! I’m just here to cover legal stuff for the both of you, then we can get you both settled in and greeted!” He stuck his hand out for a handshake, watching as Clyde stumblingly got to his feet, swaying just slightly. “Also, you can just call me Gary! It’s a lot less of a mouthful!” 

 

Craig looked at his hand, frowning before moving to clear the way for him to walk in. Gary faltered just slightly, hand dropping as he quietly walked in. Clyde was sitting upright by now, still on the floor as he glanced up at Gary wide-eyed, but offering him a smile as he attempted to stand. 

 

Making himself comfortable already in a space that wasn’t his—although it wasn’t like it was necessarily theirs either—the blonde drug a chair out from the table in the corner, sunlight from a high-up window filtering across the table, almost appearing with him. 

 

“Riiight…well we don’t have much to cover, and we can get you both fitted once we get to the estates! So..” Almost entirely manifesting a folder from nowhere, he tugged a pen from his shirt pocket, lining everything up on the table in a rather orderly manner. “These are contracts of employment. They’re for…ah…”



He squinted, grabbing one of the pages and skimming it for a moment, having forgotten.



“Five years! Then, you can choose to renew it, if you so choose…or be free.” 

 

Craig furrowed his brow as he grabbed Clyde up from the floor, tugging him over to sit. He didn’t look very trustworthy of what was being said. “...Just like that? We work for five years and…”



“And you’re free to do whatever you may please after the fact! It’s fairly cut and dry, you may read them over if you’d like!” Gary smiled. “Gregory and Damien don’t wish to keep you very long, they understand most aren’t fond of this line of work! Besides, five years is more than enough time for them to use up your skills!” 

 

He grinned, then busied himself with adjusting his shirt, attempting to adjust the sleeves as Clyde grabbed his contract, eyes skimming it. Albeit he wasn’t the best reader, but he was far from the worst.



…It genuinely was just an employment contract. No funny business, no tricks. Just…five years of work in exchange for…living. Seemed a bit ironic that the best job opportunity would be given under the threat of their lives...Without taking any more thought into it, Clyde grabbed the stray pen on the table, adjusting it weirdly in his hand. He didn’t write very often, but he was still able to press it between his fingers and put the nib to the page, scribbling out his name. 

 

Craig paled, trying to grab his wrist, but the deed was done. Craig glared, leaning in slightly to let his whispering remain audible. 

 

“We don’t know— Look, it—”



Clyde set a hand over his, an attempt at comforting him. 

 

“It’s our only chance. And it’s a pretty good one at that. Trust me, this time, yeah?” 

 

Craig frowned, his brow furrowing, although the stubbornness was fading, replaced primarily by worry. His eyes flickered over to Gary, who, respectfully, was trying not to pry much, pretending there was just something absolutely fascinating about his nail beds. Sighing quietly, he looked back to Clyde, who was looking at him with encouragement, holding the pen out with his spare hand. 

 

 

Taking it hesitantly, Craig pulled his hand from Clyde, bracing it on the paper. He sighed, signing his name with a bit more eloquence than Clyde, the scripture curving a bit more. He didn’t need to look over the rest of the document. Gathering up the pages, he slid them over to Gary, who brightened up again. God, he was like a living sunray. 

 

“Perfect! I promise, whatever you’ve been thinkin’ working for them is like, it’s not bad!” He shrugged. “I’ve been working with them for a good long while now, and they’re very kind to those they’re partial to!” He stood quickly, slipping the papers back into the folder, carrying it at his side as he waited for them to gather their things. 

 

Clyde furrowed his brow, asking, “...And those they’re not partial to?” 

 

Gary hesitated, pressing his lips together in a thin line. He seemed to furrow his brows, coming up with a way to best explain it. Craig stood, patting Clyde’s shoulder as he moved back to grab their things. His voice called out to him as he left. 

 

“They don’t stick ‘round very long, Clyde.” 

 

“...Oh. Oh!” Clyde’s eyes widened a bit, and Gary seemed to deflate just slightly, rubbing his neck. 

 

“...It’s not the prettiest line of work, but I promise they’re not as bad as they’re made out to be!” He tried to smile, although this time, it did look forced. Clyde nodded absentmindedly, turning and going to grab his bag with Craig, leaving Gary alone for a moment. 

 

“...Craig?” He called, looking around in the bedroom they’d woken up in. Craig was sitting on the bed, grumbling and tugging on the strings of his hat, his bag at his feet.



“...I wanted something better for us, Clyde.” He tugged at the strings, feeling their texture beneath fingertips so calloused his hand would never once again be soft to the touch. “I wanted you to see— I wanted you to see what we could have. But we’re stuck doing the same thing. Assassins.”



He scoffed, which turned into a bit of a pitiful laugh. “...Can’t even hide what it is. Trabajadores… who are we kidding.” 

 

His voice fell flat, and he sighed, grabbing his back and looping it over his shoulder, tossing Clyde his own bag. Clyde caught it easily, mouth opening and closing without a hint of sound escaping. He wanted to say something. Surely there was something to say to him, something he could offer up.

 

But he didn’t have the chance. Craig slipped out the door, and Clyde could hear their quiet conversation from the other side. 

 

Craig didn’t see how much of a gift this was. He didn’t mind doing their line of work, sure, it was…horrific, but something like this kept them housed. Besides, they’d probably only get jobs on people who hurt others. He just had to see things on the bright side. 

 

He had a bit of a problem with that, but it’d be alright. Clyde was sure he’d open up to someone else soon…or…rather eventually. 

 

…Oh dear. 

 

Sighing, Clyde rubbed his shoulder, heading out to meet them. They had a quick ride ahead of them, and who knew who they’d be facing? What the elites were truly like?

Notes:

hiiii sweethearts make sure you drink some water and get some food! you're important, and so is the preservation of you <33 people want you around. make sure you want you around too.

Notes:

hiiii thankk you for reading <333 get some food and drink, and just relax! u deserve ittt <33333