Chapter Text
“Is this seat taken?”
Branzy looked up, twitching slightly as he fumbled to pull his headphones off.
“Uh- yep. I’m not waiting for anyone.”
He nodded, smiling, headphones resting uncomfortably around his neck as the stranger smiled, and dropped their bag on the floor, taking the seat opposite him.
Their eyes were mismatched. That was the only thing that made Branzy’s thoughts linger on them, for a moment. Orange and blue. Not exactly striking, not at a glance, but noticeable.
It was entirely black outside the window. This was the last train back into the city for the night, and it was almost deserted. Truth be told, Branzy had been worried he was going to miss it, and spend the night in the airport. But he’d been lucky, and he was more than happy to extend some kindnesses to stranger right now.
“Thanks.”
They smiled, and Branzy nodded again, already moving to put his headphones back on.
“So, what brings you to the last train at midnight?”
Branzy’s heart sank. Just his luck to end up with someone he wanted conversation. He just wanted an evening to be a little bit miserable, a little bit jet lagged, and a lot worried about how much Ivory was going to complain at him about vanishing to another country for a week with hardly any warning.
“Oh, I- I’m just back from a flight.” He smiled awkwardly, slowly lowering his hands back to his lap. “You?”
He was just about clinging onto his manners, indescribably tired, but not wanting to spread his ridiculous problems any further than they needed to go.
“Just travelling for work.” They smiled again, leaning back to stare out the window. “Nice night.”
“Mhm.”
“Where was the flight from?”
“Uh- France.”
“Nice. Holiday?”
“…yeah. Sort of.”
Not really. Branzy stared out the window too, into the impenetrable darkness the stranger seemed captivated by. Their eyes reflected back, washed out by grimy glass, but still sharp.
“Oh? What else?”
“Kinda… finding myself. Y’know?”
The stranger made a small noise of interest, even as Branzy felt a heat creep into his cheeks, along with a certain irritation. He didn’t want to be talking to anyone right now.
Then the stranger shifted, and his jacket rode up for half a second, revealing a gun tucked into his waistband.
Branzy’s heart skipped a beat.
Was he going to die? No, surely not, they’d have killed him already. Maybe they weren’t even planning to use it. Maybe he should just stay calm, pretend he hadn’t seen anything at all.
“I- I haven’t got a job.” He was rambling already, and forced himself to pause, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I’m just… exploring my options, I guess. And- and my sister’s at college, so- she wants me out the house-“
No, actually, Ivory was always irritated whenever he left, and wouldn’t help her pay rent. But she was fine without him, and Branzy got claustrophobic easily, walking around that apartment and scrolling useless job listings endlessly.
“I get it.” The stranger’s lips quirked, hit it didn’t reach their eyes, so it wasn’t quite a smile, not this time. “Employment difficulties. Got a degree?”
This conversation felt like it was taking a weird turn, but Branzy was just waiting anxiously for his stop, so he could get away from this stranger with a gun and a dangerous smile.
Still, there was something about their voice. Hypnotically low, walking a tightrope between lighthearted and threatening, with an edge that was something neither hoarse nor smooth.
Branzy swallowed, and nodded.
“Yep. Computer science.”
“Nice. You seem the sort.”
“Uh- thanks?”
Shit, too aggressive. Branzy waited apprehensively, hoping beyond hope the stranger wouldn’t take it as an insult. But they just laughed, a soft, almost grating chuckle that made the hair on the back of Branzy’s neck prick up.
“Sounds like you shouldn’t have a problem getting a job, then. Unless there’s something else?”
Well, there wasn’t. Not really. He could have, for sure, he could have graduated and grabbed the first software startup job he’d seen. And gotten some shitty salary, and be boxed into non-compete clauses and five-year contracts for the rest of his life. Branzy just didn’t feel like he was made for the corporate world, much to Ivory’s continued annoyance.
But he was trying. If he could just make his own way, in some form, do something that felt special and important and his, Branzy was sure he’d manage to settle down.
It just… hadn’t happened yet.
And, while his inheritance was still plenty enough to support his and Ivory’s little flat, and his occasional excursions to the mainland, it couldn’t last forever.
Like this train journey, which Branzy was regarding the end of with increasingly nervousness.
“No. Not- not really.”
Nothing at all. Except his own distaste for the system, and a certain energy that made him both too hard and too easy to work with. He’d been pushed around enough in school to know he might want to find some self-confidence before venturing into the real world.
Hence, the wanderlust. Anything, really, as long as it got him away from what he knew.
“Huh. Well. What’s your name, by the way?”
Oh, shit. Branzy’s eyes flicked from the stranger’s face, to the gun, to his own reflection in the darkened window. He caught their mismatched eyes, and froze, breath catching in his throat. They tilted their head, smiling softly, waiting.
“B- Branzy.”
Mistake. He was going to die. Fuck, he’d just got back from France and he was going to die before he even saw his sister.
“Well, Branzy. Don’t worry. I’ve got some employment eccentricities of my own.”
The stranger pulled out the gun, and Branzy audibly squeaked, flinching away as they examined it with a disinterest gaze.
“Secret service.” They glanced up at him, smirking. “Technically an assassin, but they got me on payroll. You can keep a secret, right, Branzy?”
Branzy swallowed, and nodded frantically, eyes not leaving the gun.
“Cool. No need to use this then.”
The stranger twirled the gun expertly in their fingers, then slipped it back into their belt, adjusting it so it was no longer visible at all. Branzy relaxed, just slightly, but was still on the edge of panicking.
“Relax.” They laughed again, rolling their eyes. “We’re both tired. And this is my stop.”
It was his too. But Branzy found himself nodding, silently, staring as the stranger got to their feet, swinging their bag over their shoulder as they stood and waited for the train to stop.
They looked down at him, smile softening.
“I didn’t meant to scare you, Branzy. I really do wish you all the best.”
“Th- thanks.”
Branzy tried a smile, and they returned it, just as the train screeched to a stop.
For half a second, Branzy nearly stood up. Admitted he was meant to get off here, leave himself at the mercy of following or being followed by the stranger.
But they just nodded, and left the carriage without another word, leaving Branzy staring dumbly into space.
Only when the door swished closed again, did the tension leave his body, and Branzy had to fight the urge to scan the platform as they pulled away.
That had been weird.
Already, it felt like a bad dream, or something his memory had exaggerated. But Branzy was going to remember. He hadn’t even caught their name. Only that they thought he should have a job, they allegedly worked for the secret service, and they had eyes that lingered on the back of his neck.
He stayed frozen, until the train dinged again, and he stumbled to his feet, grabbing his own bag mostly in a daze and half-tripping onto the platform. He hadn’t gone far. It would just be a bit of a longer walk back home. He should text Ivory.
Branzy fumbled his phone out, clutching it like a lifeline, feeling his own pulse reverberate through his body. Ivory. He’d just text her, and remind himself that he lived in the real world, not some kind of twisted fairytale where gun-wielding spies wished him luck with his career in midnight trains.
Branzy the Crafter: hey, missed my stop
Branzy the Crafter: I’ll be a few minutes late
Ivory’s favourite Cello is typing…
Branzy looked up from the screen, nodding to a ticket guard as he scanned his pass. There was no one else in this whole station, it seemed. Just him, his sister three miles away, and security guards looking bored out their minds.
Ivory’s favourite Cello: ok. Be safe
Branzy the Crafter: when am I not
Ivory’s favourite Cello: all the time
Branzy the Crafter: see you in a few minutes sis
Ivory’s favourite Cello: don’t die
Chuckling, Branzy turned his phone off, but kept it in his hand.
As he left the train station, he couldn’t stop himself looking around, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie as anxiety crept up his neck again. They wouldn’t have followed him. Surely not. That would be insane.
And, indeed, they didn’t seem to have. Branzy giggled, under his breath, allowing doubt to creep in. Secret service, yeah, right. Probably just some madman with a gun, pretending to be something important.
Maybe he should call the police. But Branzy really had no idea what he’d say. Someone on the train threatened him at gunpoint? Or that he’d seen an armed madman? Was impersonating a spy a criminal offence?
Honestly, who cared? He was alive, he was tired, he just wanted to get home without getting shot or mugged.
Branzy the Crafter: so how’ve things been back in England
Branzy the Crafter: sis?
Branzy the Crafter: almost home
Sighing, Branzy put his phone away, instead looking around. It was probably better to be vigilant anyway, at this time of night.
Not far now. His feet hurried a little, almost tripping over each other as Branzy tried to act casual. It felt like there were a thousand eyes on him, from every angle, and like he was entirely alone at the same time, the only, lonely soul in a big, abandoned world.
It was strange, really. The only connections he had left to the world beyond him and his little sister were fading school contacts and the strangers he scammed online for what could hardly be called a living.
It felt like he was fading into obscurity, not that he’d ever had much to his name, and the darkness was beginning to lick at his heels, no matter how far he ran to try to escape it.
Eventually, he’d reach the finish. He’d find somewhere to be himself someday. Hopefully.
Anyway. He really was almost home now.
Branzy pulled his key out of his pocket, where he’d actually had the forethought to put it so he didn’t have to get Ivory out of bed at midnight. He twirled it between his fingers, idly trying to replicate the fancy trick that stranger had pulled with the gun.
That was probably weird. But Branzy couldn’t get them out of his head, even as he walked down his street, humming to try to distract himself. Something about their eyes, too, deeper than the unnatural colours. Something dangerous.
He was always a sucker for a man who made him feel fear. Women too, especially if they could kill him. Ivory mocked him for it mercilessly, and, in fairness, it was deserved. There wasn’t really a way to say he enjoyed the thrill of fear in casual conversation, and it had caused a truly surprising amount of problems in the few relationships he’d attempted.
One night stands, those were fine. You could find some weird sucker who’d do anything to you so they could hit. But Branzy had never been particularly good at holding down a relationship, not once they got close enough to get sick of his wasted potential and puppyish lifestyle.
Branzy hummed a little louder as he buzzed open the apartment door, trying not to step too loudly on his way upstairs. He didn’t need to worry about dying alone tonight, thank you.
The key went easily into the lock, just as Branzy started to become very aware of just how tired he was. It was funny, whenever he was travelling, it felt like his sense of time was on pause. Then he’d been rather running on the adrenaline of fearing for his life for the last half hour or so.
“Hi, Ivory!”
Branzy made sure to call out softly, as he locked the door behind him.
“Hi, Branzy.”
Ivory sounded considerably unimpressed, chair scraping as she stood up, walking over to him with a vaguely irritated expression. Hands on her hips, she stared up at him, and Branzy dared for a small, exhausted smile.
After a minute, Ivory relented, and smiled slightly, hugging him for a few seconds.
“Missed you. How’d it go?”
“Oh… not so bad.”
Should he tell her about the stranger? Branzy considered it, amidst the enjoyment of just being able to hug his sister in person, before she pulled away, scoffing in slightly teary exhaustion.
“Fine. Tell me in the morning, ok?”
“Yeah. Nice to be back.”
“Go to sleep, Branzy.” Ivory giggled, then yawned, then smiled. “I’ll hear your stories tomorrow.”
“Today now, I think.” Branzy checked his watch, chuckling. “But yeah. I’ll sleep.”
“‘Night, Branzy.”
Ivory walked off, turning off the light as she headed upstairs. Branzy watched her go, in darkness, his smile slowly slipping into nothing.
Another trip wasted. Another empty feeling, as he stood in the apartment he’d be in until he died, feeling like he was waiting for the universe to hand him an opportunity.
Branzy sighed, hefted his bag, and followed his sister upstairs, trying not to linger on the painful feeling in his chest.
It was good to be home, at least.