Garrett forced himself to roll onto his side and immediately regretted it. For a long moment, he just stayed there, curled up as he fought to keep from fading again.
Slowly, time seemed to settle in between blinks. His unswollen eye started to focus correctly again.
His pack lay in front of him, torn open and emptied of everything save for his spare shirt and the broken clay jars that had held his herbs and tinctures.
Despair and pain made it hard to breathe. Every coin, every last one of his possessions, had been in that bag.
For a second, fading seemed like the merciful option. But as he loosened his fist, he realized that he was still clutching Bridgette’s note. It was stained with his own blood, the indecipherable words smudged, yet the need to know what it said was something he could grasp onto. Even if everything else had been taken from him, that felt like a goal he might still be able to obtain.
He mustered the energy to lift his head and found that he’d been tossed in the back of an alley, obscured by a pile of snow and out of sight of the now quiet streets. The sky above was full of stars, auroras dancing across the blackness in colorful waves. It was difficult to wrap his mind around the fact that he had lost the entire day.
Slowly, he pushed himself to sit, and it felt like a miracle to even manage that. Pain seared from the skin over his ribs as the wound made by Edmund’s blade opened again. He grabbed the tattered remains of his bag before he steeled himself and staggered to his feet. He didn’t think any bones were broken, but he hurt too much to really be able to tell. His legs worked, at least, and that’s all he needed.
He took one step, and then another, one hand trailing along the alley wall for support. He staggered out into the abandoned street, clutching his ruined bag to his chest before he started the last few agonizing blocks towards Monika’s.
It was late enough that the brothel was dark, the front doors closed and locked. He stumbled into the alley before his shoulder hit the back door with a thud, his strength giving out.
“Bri,” he said, voice emerging in a weak croak. “Please.”
His strength was spent, and he slid to the ground as his legs folded. The door against his shoulder abruptly opened, too quick for him to catch himself. He fell onto his side with a whimper of pain, half inside of the hall.
Bridgette appeared over him, silhouetted by starlight. “Garrett!”
Her warm hands felt him over, and it was only then he realized how cold he was. A shiver rushed through him, making him moan as the contraction disturbed every injury. Bridgette carefully eased him back up to sitting.
“Hold on, alright? Just hold on.”
The worry in her voice didn’t sound like it came from someone who never wanted to see him again. He clung to that thought even as he leaned against the door frame, too exhausted to move.
From inside, he heard Monika yell. Bridgette shouted back, but the ringing in his ears grew too loud for him to really hear the exchange. The words seemed to garble together even as the shouting got louder, turning into a full-blown argument.
Fear shivered through him. The memory of Monika grabbing Bridgette’s hair, slapping her across the face, flashed behind his eyes. He tried to get his legs to cooperate, tried to push back to his feet to intervene, but Bridgette reappeared before he could.
A large pack was slung over her back, and in her hand, she held a knife that was tipped with blood. Over Monika’s furious shouts, she said, “C’mon. We need to get you up. Can you walk?”
The urgency in her voice helped him to muster his strength. He pushed back to his feet even as Bridgette helped him up with a hand hooked under his arm. There was a commotion inside of the brothel, and Garrett turned to see Monika storming down the hall towards them. The cut on her cheek bled sluggishly, but the fury in her eyes was unlike anything Garrett had ever seen from her.
“You ungrateful, wretched little slut!” Monika shrieked.
Garrett moved to put himself between her and Bridgette, but the woman beat him to it. She stepped in front of him, brandishing the knife at Monika.
“You touch me again, and I’ll give you worse than a nick,” she snarled.
Monika stopped dead, but the fury on her face didn’t diminish. “Attacking your employer?Stealingfrom me?” she hissed, her eyes locked on the hefty bag of coins in Bridgette’s free hand. “You want to be sent to the mines in chains? Then you better think real hard about your next move, Bri.”
Bridgette blanched but held the knife steady. “You’ve earned your last cent off of me.”
The Madam sneered. “Then you better run fast, girl. The constable is likely to be faster.” Garrett bared his tusks at the threat, and Monika’s eyes flicked to him. “Unfortunately, one of you doesn’t look to be in a state to do much running.”
“Bri,” Garrett said, his heart sinking. Monika was right, but Bridgette’s only response was to grab his hand and pull his arm over her shoulders.
“C’mon,” she said before she guided him down the alley. He stumbled after her as best he could, keeping one eye on Monika until she slammed the door of the brothel closed with a crack.
“She’s right,” he said as they made it out onto the main street. “If you’re trying to skip town, I’m only going to hold you up.”
“Shut up,” Bridgette ordered. “I’m not leaving you.”
Garrett obeyed. After all that had happened, the realization that he wasn’t in this alone made tears well to his eyes. He didn’t even have it in him to ask where she was leading them, though he did his best to keep up as he hobbled along beside her. Pain made his vision fade in and out, but he blinked to attention as Bridgette pulled them to a stop.
