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ice-cap-k · 6 months

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Gift Basket

Cross-posted on AO3 here: Gift Basket

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Come on Schlatt. He could do this.

Honestly, he wasn’t even sure why he was finding this so difficult. This was supposed to be the easy part. Drop the basket off at the front door, turn around, and walk away. That’s all he had to do.

It shouldn’t be this hard. He didn’t care about these people. Didn’t need to sit down, have a chat, or get to know them on a personal level. None of that. Just drop and go.

Come on, Schlatt. Drop the basket and go…

He had done his research. Scoped the place out and knew everything he needed to know about the people inside, no awkward conversation was necessary. That wasn’t easy to do in this day and age. Especially for people like him.

Even now, people walking down the street were staring at him like some sort of circus freak. Nothing but wide eyes and gaping mouths as they passed, making sure they got a good look at him so they could gossip about it later. Even the people in the nearby houses were watching from behind closed shutters and window panes. When some of them saw him turn on them, they looked away nervously, trying to maintain the facade of politeness.

One couple stopped to stare at him from next door. They were being cluelessly blatant about it as well, pointing and whispering behind the back of their hand as if he couldn’t literally see what they were doing. Hell, he could practically HEAR them.

“What’cha lookin’ at,” he growled, shooting them a pointed glare. “It’s almost like you’ve never seen a guy with horns before.”

That seemed to get them to clam up. They grabbed at each other’s shoulders and arms, leaning into each other for support as they turned and hurried off in the opposite direction. That earned him a few more curious looks, but at least he took pride in the fact that he had given that couple a good scare.

“Yeah, well… good riddance.”

That’s what he gets for coming to a human settlement. It’s not like he made any attempt to hide his horns or hooves. They’d probably never seen a satyr like him before. Wait. What was he thinking?! Of course they hadn’t seen a satyr before. No satyr would be dumb enough to bother coming around these parts. Under any other circumstance, he wouldn’t be here either. But his options were extremely limited outside of the Badland territories. This was still somehow the preferable option compared to going back there.

The people in this house, though, they were real schmucks. Absolute wet blankets. The boring kind of people that seem nice and pleasant at first, but were as uninteresting and featureless as a cardboard box. If there was a color to describe them, it would be beige. These people were the living embodiment of beige. However, when you stopped and realized that these people were fae and still managed to pull that off, it made their boringness almost impressive.

Fae weren’t meant to be beige. They were meant to be colorful inside and out. That’s why their magic always had a special glow to it. A tint that was particular to the person who used it.

For instance, his was red. A very deep, respectable red. The kind of red you’d make a tie out of and pair it with a nice suit to leave a good impression. Magic in itself wasn’t one of his forte’s, but he at least knew his color. Could identify the spark inside him. That was probably more than these cardboard cutout excuses for people could manage.

Beige fae. It was so stupid it was laughable.

That was probably the only reason they fit in so well with a bunch of humans. Boring fae to fit in with unimpressive humans going about their daily lives. They were the only non-humans to own a house like this in the general area. It made his own cabin look like a rickety backwoods dog house. It was two stories. Built tall and sturdy from fine stone and actual glass. The front facade was decorated with all the finery expected of a family doing well for itself. Newly painted shutters. A well-tended garden. A fenced-in front porch with a cushioned rocking chair turned out to the road…

It was all so boringly perfect.

His own home was far from any town. He had trudged miles through the snow just to get here.

He didn’t need much. The cabin was a drafty, one-room building with the kitchen, bedroom, and living space all rolled into one. It had been patchworked over the years, covering gaps with wooden boards and stuffing the cracks with spare rags. Oil paper was used in place of glass window panes. And on the colder nights, he covered their openings with spare blankets.

It was just fine for him, but it wouldn’t work well for anyone else.

That’s why he needed these stupid, boring, beige fae that he had never met and their stupid perfect life.

Because he didn’t have one. The perfect life, that is. And he never really wanted it.

The handle of the basket weighed heavily in his palm.

With an extremely tired sigh, Schlatt reached out with his free hand and knocked three times on the front door. He waited awkwardly on the front porch, but nobody came to the door. So he knocked again. And again… And then his patience snapped.

“What lousy-” He reached out and snatched the door handle. It rattled in his grasp but didn’t turn. Of course they would lock the door like responsible adults. So he kicked out with a hoof and left a dent in the bottom of their door.

Just his luck. He picked the day they were away.

It was a nice day out. The basket would probably be fine if he left it on their porch…

With a huff, he slid the handle up his arm until it rested on his shoulder. He could carry it a little longer. Maybe they had left a side or back door unlocked?

The neighbors were still watching as he went down the porch steps. He ignored their pointed stares as he cut through the grass lining the front of the home. They could watch. They could jump to snap conclusions if it meant he didn’t have to leave the damn basket outside.

His heavy hoofsteps tore into the sod as he circled the wall. It wasn’t a desperate enough situation to try one of the windows. They would have been a higher jump than his knees could handle anyway.

The backyard was even more stereotypically perfect than the front. Weren’t townsfolk supposed to live with houses built practically on top of each other? Who even had full yards like this?

At least he could make out a screen door set into the wall on this side of the house. And the patio porch protruding out from it had a full roof covering.

Low and behold, this door was locked to. He had to hand it to the owners of this home, for a couple of squares, they at least had a bit of common sense. That was some sort of silver lining to this situation, he supposed. But that meant he would have to either leave the basket and go, or wait until they came home and give it to them himself.

His lip curled at the thought. He hadn’t exactly been looking forward to them answering the doorbell as it was. He didn’t have much interest in interacting with them at all.

There didn't seem to be anyone back here watching him. He would have noticed them peeking up over fence posts and there were no trees for anyone to climb. Although he would be thoroughly surprised if a human would think to try something like that. They knew he was back here, though. Probably were getting ahold of whatever form of law enforcement this rinky dink backwater town had to offer to come get the 'big bad satyr' who surely was breaking into their neighbor's house by now. They would probably try to arrest him. Confiscate the basket, or worse. They'd kick him out with some sort of ban, too. He had no doubt in his mind that the residents of this home would hear all about it by the time they got here, whether or not he was still there when they got back.

There was too much risk involved with sticking around.

So he put the basket down next to the door. He made sure it was far enough away that it wouldn't get bumped if the door came swinging open later. Didn't want that sort of accident making a mess of things.

Once he was certain that the basket was safe and stable, he reached into the inner pocket of his coat and pulled out the note. It was crinkled and a little torn from the journey over. The corners of its folds were worn down from being folded open and closed repeatedly. A byproduct of how many times he had read through the message scrawled within. He had written and re-written drafts of this thing more times than he cared to admit. Eventually, he had to call it ‘good enough’ and leave it alone, but there were still a few crossed-out words here and there. Hopefully, these people could read his handwriting.

He smoothed out some of the creases between the palms of his hands. Once the letter was somewhat flat, he lifted the thin blanket covering the basket to slip the note inside.

Immediately, a small, pudgy hand reached out and wrapped its little fingers around the base of his thumb.

The corner of Schlatt’s mouth twitched upwards in something that could arguably be called a smile. “Hey, none of that,” he whispered. “I’ve gotta go.”

The gurgling baby inside only pulled his hand in closer, along with the note. Another hand wrapped around his pinky. The grip was surprisingly firm for something so small.

“Heh… You’re gonna be a tough one. Just like your old man.” Schlatt reached in with his free hand to take the note. The other he allowed the little one to shake with a squeal of glee. The infant pressed his hand against the top of its head. He could feel the thin crown of wispy hair and unblemished skin. The horns wouldn’t come in until the kid was much, much older. It almost looked human bundled up like this.

Big brown eyes took in the world past the edge of the basket. It didn’t take long for the baby to get distracted. It’s little hands let go of Schlatt’s so it could reach up to something above their heads. When Schlatt followed the kid’s gaze, he saw a leaf falling from the edge of the roof.

Gently, he slid the note in alongside the child. It clapped its hands together with a gurgle as he pulled the blanket over the basket once more.

He didn’t want to scare the kid, so he stepped softly across the patio until he was back on the grass. The basket looked so small on that back porch by its lonesome. If he looked carefully, he could even see the edge of the blanket moving.

Schlatt made sure to stalk back out to the front yard for all the world to see him. All those eyes burned into his back as he plodded back down the street the way he came. Surely they were taking note of the fact that he was leaving empty-handed.

Once he was certain he had walked far enough and the onlookers were no longer looking on, he ducked between a couple of shops where he wouldn’t stick out as obviously.

He wasn’t good at magic. He didn’t make a habit of using it. Almost never used it at all. There was little that magic could do that could outperform a bit of quick thinking and hard work. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had tried using it. But right now, Schlatt funneled every red spark he could muster into keeping himself hidden.

It was difficult. It wasn’t easy. It felt like moving a mountain would be simpler than making himself invisible, but he did it. He stepped out of that alley feeling only slightly less than a million bucks and undetectable by even the nosiest of gawkers.

By the time he made it back to the house, there were already neighbors swarming in the front yard chattering like starlings. Thankfully, nobody could see him. He didn’t have to address any of their busy-body gossip. He just had to find a nice spot to sit down and wait across the road.

This vantage point was like a set of front row seats to a sorry excuse for a show. From here, he could watch a handful of armored soldiers being led to the house to play detective. He watched them check the locks. He watched them take statements from the nosy humans who couldn’t mind their own business. He even watched them approach the two fairies who lived there when the couple returned home. It was an overdramatic mess of a scene with shouting and panicked looks. But nothing ever really happened.

He kept watching until everyone but the two fae who lived there left, and the couple eventually made their way around the back of the house.

His heart almost stopped when a small wail reached his ears.

Hooves hit the gravel as he leaped to his feet. Before he could take off towards the side of the house, though, one of the fairies came around the bend cradling the baby in their arms.

Its sobbing was starting to die down as they bounced it and cooed soft words. Little hands reached out to press against their cheek and bat at long hair.

The other fairy came around back carrying the note. They placed it in their pocket as they cupped the back of the infant’s head in their hand.

Schlatt noted that they both had wings tucked beneath their clothes. Only the very edges of filigree wings were visible.

Beige fae. Fae that tried to fit in with humans. It said a lot about the state of the world that this was the best he could find.

So Schlatt turned his back on the newly united family with their nice home and their happy smiles and the little bundle of joy that reached out to them like it had to him. It was time he left.

Because even these sorry excuses for fae would make better parents than he ever could.

#whumptober 2023 #prompt no. 24 #“Goodbye note”#dream smp #technically #creative writing #spoilers in tags #fantasy racism #abandonment #hard choices #jschlatt #parenthood #alternate universe - fae #adoption

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