The Watcher: Adaptability Of A Bounty Hunter

Chapter 14) Hard To Swallow

Roman was at an absolute loss for words.

Out of all possible things it could have been.

It just had to be a child.

The boy had a plain white shirt on. Considering how the T-shirt’s tails touched the floor, it looked more like a blanket on him. His hair was brown, grown into a shockingly large afro for the kid’s size. And unlike Travis’s pale complexion, the child’s skin held a light brown coloration. He looked to be four, maybe five at a push. The boy craned his neck, looking Roman directly in the eyes.

“Who’re you,” the boy asked, “I was sleeping y'know.”

Roman didn’t know how to respond. Best he could do was mumble out the first thing that came to mind, “Oh sorry-- I didn’t realize it was so late.”

The child was unamused, though he didn’t seem like he was going to slam the door in Roman’s face, at least not yet. The boy let out a yawn as he turned back into his house. Roman looked up from the kid and into the house’s common room, it wasn't hard, the young man blocking the doorway wasn’t even half his size. There was a small couch, big enough for at least four people in the middle of the room. Facing a sixty-five inch television, propped up on a white dresser, an average living room for the people in this area. Which made the ornate golden grandfather clock at the far end stand out like a sore thumb.

The boy twisted back to Roman, “Can you read that?”

“It’s 9:00 pm.”

“Oh--” the kid shuffled out of the doorway, “You must be here to meet with my dad.”

“Yeah...” Roman replied with feigned confidence, hoping it’d be enough to pull the wool over the child’s eyes, “But it looks like I had the wrong time-”

“No. You’re on time, it’s my dad who's late.” The kid pushed the door open, then moved further into his home. Roman took this as a sign to enter, the cool air refreshed his body. It only hit him just now, but Roman was absolutely drenched in sweat. The outside heat was nothing to joke about, with all the running and arguing he had barely noticed the sickly way his clothing adhered to his skin. Disgusting.

“So, what’s your name?” Roman asked.

“Aaron.”

“That’s um, a cool name.”

Aaron nodded, “Thanks.”

… This was uncomfortable. Roman seldom found himself in the presence of children. He simply did not possess the know how for scenarios such as this. For the next, agonizing minute he and Aaron stood there without either party muttering so much as a single peep. Time was dragging, what was in actuality less than a handful of seconds felt like an eternity. On the upside, this did give Roman a chance to size up the place. Having a handle on one’s surroundings was extremely important no matter the situation. Given what was coming, it was even more crucial to the job than normal.

“Follow me,” Aaron broke the ice, “I’m thirsty.”

Roman was in no place to refuse. So when the child waddled into the next room, he followed. Black and white tiles lined the floor in an alternating pattern. The child passed by the wooden table in the middle of the room, dragging one of the two chairs along with him. The wooden legs were blunt, and since this boy didn’t have the strength to lift the seat up, they dragged. Scuffing, or more than likely scratching the solid colored slabs underneath. Roman nearly stepped in, but he held back for now-- and endured the agonizing screeching. The small boy propped the seat up in front of the sink. He climbed onto it, wobbling slightly before gathering his bearings. With the height boost from the chair, he could now reach the tap. Aaron twisted the right most knob twist, releasing a steady stream of water from the faucet.

“Umm…” Roman looked on, unable to find the right words. “Shouldn’t you use a cup”

Aaron twisted the sink’s handle twice, putting a stop to the flow now that he had gotten his fill, “Can’t reach.”

“I see,” Roman joined Aaron by the sink, sturdy cabinets hung overhead. Without more than a passing consideration, Roman pulled on the handle to the right. Aside from a slight jostle, the cupboard didn’t budge.

“No it’s the other one,” Aaron pointed to the left, “Dad keeps that one shut.”

Roman drew his hand back, only now coming to the realization that there was an obvious key hole underneath the handle, “Really? That’s weird isn’t it, any idea why?”

“Nope.”

“Right,” Roman slid the left cabinet open, grabbed the first cup he saw and handed it to the young man.

Has to be something important. It’s one thing to have a cupboard that can lock. But actually using it, well, it's pretty telling that you have something valuable behind the doors. Then again, maybe Travis has a thing for collecting rare china and silverware, who could say. Either way, it’s something to make note of--

“Excuse me… Sir? Heellooo?”

“Huh,” Roman looked down at Aaron, “Sorry I was-- um, anyway what’s up?”

“I can’t drink out of this,” Aaron had his arms pushed out, both hands tightly curled up around the tall drinking glass.

“Not thirsty anymore?”

“No,” the kid shook his head, “Dad says I’m clumsy.”

“Ah- right. That glass is definitely too much for you… Here,” Roman took the drinking glass away and replaced it with a smaller plastic cup. One with an obnoxiously brightly colored parrot painted onto it.

“Too much…” Aaron mumbled, turning his gaze from the bright plastic up to Roman, “I want the other one.”

Roman paused, but ultimately chose to ignore the latter half of the sentence. He took the only chair left that didn’t have a child on it and focused on the exposed opening into the living room.

“So… Where did you say your father was exactly?”

“Working.”

“At this time of day? Huh, do you know where he works?”

Aaron scooted the chair back to the table, making the same noisy squeal. After getting settled he put his head down on the table and sighed wearily, “Ummm… he said he helps build robots.”

“The android factory?”

“I think, I’m not sure. We move around a lot so he keeps changing jobs,” Aaron propped his head up with the tip of his elbow, “We used to live in a tiny house inside of a big building. And before that it was a cabin in the woods. I liked that one, it was like we were camping all the time.”

Roman turned to the boy, “Moving all the time doesn’t seem easy. It must be hard to maintain a healthy school schedule.”

“I don’t go to school,” Aaron yawned, “I only went a long time ago… before kindergarten… I think it’s called. But it’s okay, dad reads to me all the time. He actually taught me how to write. I don’t like numbers though.”

“Before kindergarten, so preschool. What happened that made you switch to homeschooling?”

“... I don’t wanna say.”

“Come on, just tell me!” Roman snapped, and the boy jumped in his seat. Those small eyes were wide with the same shock and horror Roman had seen in criminals when he revealed himself from the blanket of darkness in full armor. He’d sacrifice an arm and a leg for that armor now. Because without it, there was nothing standing between him, and the child whose eyes were starting to glisten with tears.

“D...D...Dad says I can’t…” Aaron croaked between sniffles.

For all the life or death situations he’d been dropped into. He’d rather go through them for a second, or possibly even a third time if it meant not needing to deal with this child. He just didn’t know what path to take-- being a night owl himself he couldn’t actually recall the last time he had to spend this much time with someone who was only born four years prior. Should he press Aaron for more information directly? Obviously not, a simple spike in volume resulted in tears.

“H-Hey I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell--” Roman tried to ruffle his hair. He’d seen this done before on television, between siblings usually on sitcoms back when he himself was nothing more than another child glued to his screen. Aaron flinched and seemed to sink further into the cushioned back of the chair.

Okay, that was definitely the wrong move.

Roman was still a stranger, the total amount of time he and Aaron spent together could be counted on a single hand. Trying to ‘comfort’ him like a family member would, especially after making him tear up was such an obvious mistake-- he couldn’t believe it himself. The situation was getting worse, all it would take was one more misstep to burst the dam holding back the child’s tears. Roman needed an out, a back up plan, something to help calm Aaron’s nerves.

A toy? Wait, it's a little over nine pm. No where that sells toys would be open!

…

Hold on a second, I can’t even leave the house in the first place!

Panicked, Confused, befuddled, all adjectives that could be used to describe Roman’s current state of mind. He jumped to his feet, pushing his chair a good foot back in the process. Hundreds of miles a minute was an understatement, his mind was running the distance between the sun and the planet. Grabbing every single scrap of vaguely child related knowledge from the deepest pits of his subconscious. Anything that could assist him in salvaging this job before it’s actually even started. That’s when it hit him-- Roman ran back over to the cupboard, swung the door open and fumbled around for a moment. Coming back to the table a second later, plunking the tall, solid glass cup down in front of Aaron. The action was so sloppily done, Aaron’s face was lightly doused in tap water. He didn’t seem upset, the boy looked up at Roman, genuinely surprised.

"You… You liked this cup right?”

Dear god, please work.

Aaron sniffled, the last residual tears ran down his cheeks, only to be wiped away by the boy’s lengthy sleeves to dry his face. Still his eyes were puffy and his nose was running, but he wasn’t wailing anymore, and that was enough for Roman. Aaron took the cup, barely able to wrap his small hands around the width of the tall glass. Though he didn’t drink, the child merely held the drinking vessel in front of him. Was this not enough? Romen didn’t have any fallbacks, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He opened his mouth, to buy himself time if nothing else. But Aaron beat him to the punch.

“You’re weird Mister,” cautiously the boy brought his eyes back to Roman, “If you work with my dad, why don’t you know anything about him?”

“Well you see--”

“Are you stupid?” he said, almost as if he hadn’t been crying.

Roman let the air rush out of his system as he slumped back into his chair, “You have no idea…”

Crisis averted, but an overhanging, unbearable stint of awkward tension took its place. Could anyone really call that a win? And that's not even addressing the fact that Roman was nowhere closer to getting the answer he was looking for. All that pointless drama for nothing whatsoever… He checked back on Aaron, who was trying and failing to drink from the too large cup. Spilling more on himself than into his opened jaw. No use in trying to get anything else out of the kid, the chances of him breaking down again were incredibly high.

Roman looked into the living room. All things considered, not a bad place to raise a family. It was clean, until Roman and Aaron started fumbling around with cups full of water, not a single thing could be considered out of place. The house had power, running water, and the fridge from the short time he saw inside it was stocked with plenty of meat and vegetables. Travis clearly cared a great deal for this boy, and it showed. And he’s done all of this alone, parenting split between two seemed hard enough. Makes sense that he’d turn to a life of crime. If you’ve got what it takes, crime pays quite handsomely, Roman knew this better than most.

Combining the information gathered from Aaron, with what he already knew from the holo-pic Elizabeth gave him, there still wasn’t much to go off. Travis Talon was once an official mage, in what capacity he hoped to learn from the man’s child but Aaron’s lips were sealed. An educated guess told him that Travis was once a combat mage for the A.C.G and for whatever reasons, Mr. Talon went rogue. According to his son, he never stays in one place for too long, living like some sort of wandering hermit. Somewhere along the line, he must have pissed off the wrong people. Maybe it’s government types, or could be some underworld crime boss, that’s essentially what brought Roman here anyway. And if Travis frequently skipped out on his bills, well, that would explain why he’s constantly city hopping.

“My dad’s a good person,” Aaron blurted out, “I don’t care what they say about him…”

Roman jumped back into the conversation, “They? Whose they?”

“Everyone… They just don’t get it. But you, you understand mister! That’s why you're helping him out, right?”

The older man didn’t know quite what to say. He knew this child was going to feel betrayed once his father arrived. Adding one more lie onto the pile wouldn’t massively change how he’d feel regardless. So why did Roman find it so difficult to find the words? Three letters, one word, yes was all he needed to say to keep his charade going. But he couldn’t do it.

“I… uh,”

The front door swung open, “Aaron, I’m home.”

“Dad’s back!” Aaron’s lethargic nature melted away as he stood on top of his chair. Looking out excitedly into the common room, “We’re here! In the kitchen!”

“We’re here? What did I tell you about playing in the kitchen?”

“Just come on, you’ll see!”

Hearty laughter echoed out, “Alright, Alright, I’ll be there in a second.”

Roman’s eyes tightened, this was it, no more games. Travis was here, and it was time to pay up. The bounty hunter, now turned debt collector, slipped his hand inside of his black cloak, coiling his fingers around the gun’s handle. Aaron chirped out more giddy Smalltalk as the dad bumbled around inside the front room. Shortly thereafter, heavy steps steadily grew louder and louder, until the man came into view in the doorway. Long dark hair hanging over top of his shoulders, jawline sharp enough to slice through someone. There was absolutely no way of denying it now, Roman was looking right at his target, Travis Talon.

The smile that Travis had when he first stepped into the kitchen vanished the very second he saw Roman. Bewilderment at first, followed by shock, and concluding with a scowl full of animosity. That was to be expected, discovering a strange hooded man alone with your adolescent child for who knows how long was more than enough to drive a parent mad. And Roman was going to exploit that parental instinct.

“Aaron… get back,” Tavis said, hand tucked away inside his pocket.

The young boy dipped his head to the left, “Why would I--”

Roman locked his arm around Aaron’s neck, then jumped backwards, knocking the chair onto the floor. Out came the gun, barrel pressed against the boy’s cheek. “W...What are you doing…” Aaron asked, tears forming, but there was no response.

“Aaron!” Travis cried out, ripping a T shaped hilt off his hip. The sword handle flashed a brilliant blue before activating. But instead of a brightly colored energy sword, Roman saw a strange tangle of knifelike crystals materialize before his very eyes. Travis spun his right hand, assuming an offensive stance, crystallized blade tucked away behind his back in a reverse grip.

“Fancy sword,” Roman twisted the gun against Aaron’s skull, “The Toymaker’s work?”

“Let. Him. Go.”

Fresh tears dropped from Aaron’s chin, right onto Roman’s forearm. Though his expression didn’t show it, Roman despised himself for this. He fought petty crime on the street without any payment, just to stick it to those who’d take advantage of the weak and downtrodden. And here he was, holding a loaded gun to a child’s head. It needed to be done, this was the exploit Roman needed to abuse in order to fight Aaron’s magus father.

Yeah… that’s what he told himself.

“Not until you pay what’s owed.”

And it wasn’t making this any easier.