Untitled Story
Jan. 23rd, 2014 01:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lilfluffThis is to ysabetwordsmith's second prompt to my January Bingo Prompt call.
Title: Untitled
Warnings: Post-Apocalypse, non-romantic homosexual housemates, edited while sick (fevers, yay! I mean boo, boo fevers!)
Length: 950 words
Genre/Setting: Science Fiction/Post-Apocalypse
As he had for the last two years, Bartholomew woke up and stuck to his side of the house until Frank was finished in the kitchen. When the other man left to work in the garden Bart made his own breakfast. Two years and he still didn't see how Frank could find the irony humorous. Before the apocalypse they were both outcasts in town because they were attracted to other men. After the apocalypse they each found the only other survivor in town was the one man they couldn't imagine having a relationship with.
After breakfast Bartholomew checked the fence-line cameras and status lights before heading out to fix the windmill on the neighboring homestead. Looking out from the top of the tower what was left of the town looked so peaceful. A quarter hour passed before he know it until a hawk's cry snapped him out of the moment. Before going back to work he checked that his pistol was still on his hip and gave the town a less comfortable gaze. They hadn't seen another man or woman in almost the full two years since everything crashed. But if they had survived who knew who else was out there.
Before it was dark Bart finished fixing the windmill. With it once more charging a shack full of batteries he headed straight home. Even in his rush to be back inside he made certain each fence gate was securely latched. A small loaf of rough bread and a bowl of stew waited for him in the oven. Frank was already back to his own side of the house so Bart took his time before carrying a tray back to his room, eating slowly while reading one of his scavenged travel books. It was another of the things Frank didn't understand. Even if the old world was over and gone Bartholomew had to believe there was still something left out there. What was the point in going on if there wasn't?
Soon though the sun finally dipped below the horizon and he closed the book. He didn't need much light to get the bowl back to the kitchen and rinse it nor to move the day marker over one space on his wood tile perpetual calendar.
Before falling into bed he considered what to do the next day. It was his turn to do the kitchen work but that would leave time for more. Once he'd decided on mending clothing for the coming winter he was able to relax and drift off to sleep. In his dreams he found himself in Hawaii relaxing on the beach while he watched a luau. By now even in his dreams it felt odd to see so many people even if he knew once the beach he saw would have been considered almost deserted. He kept off to the side, watching dancers and tasting exotic food. It was simply more comfortable to watch than join in even if someone started crying and shouting his name.
"Darn it all Bart! Wake up and get out here!"
Bartholomew sat up as the dream fell away, but not the crying. Not the crying which didn't sound a thing like Frank. It couldn't possibly be what it sounded like but when he rushed out to the front of the house he found Frank staring into a bassinet.
"What, how... where did you find that?"
"She was already here, just inside the door. Just inside the locked door."
"She?" Bartholomew looked in the basket with the squalling blanket wrapped baby then at the duffel bag and backpack sitting next to it.
Frank held up a sheet of notebook paper, "Kaitlin. Whoever left her says her name is Kaitlin. They said they can't take care of her. They don't quite say it, but I think maybe they're always moving. Said they'd seen us before. Also apologized and said where there's some supply caches in town."
Frank shook his head after a moment and dropped the note before he stared up at him. "Bart, what do we do? I don't know how to take care of a baby."
"Don't look at me, it's been twenty years, not since my folks kicked me out."
"That's more than me. I was an only kid and the neighbor kids were all older."
Bart couldn't stand to leave the girl crying any longer and reached into the basket, carefully lifting and holding the tiny girl close, "It's okay Kaitlin, little Kitty-Kate. Uncle Frankie isn't that scary."
"Ha. Ha. I'm serious Bart, we don't even have anything but what was left in those bags. What was this person thinking?"
"That two guys with a home would be better than carrying a baby around out there?" He spotted a bottle slipped in one of the backpack's side pouches and offered it to the baby. "There isn't anyone else left in town or as far as we've dared. Doesn't matter, whatever they were thinking it's up to us now."
"I guess there should still be stuff in the stores that didn't burn." Frank tipped his head for a moment, "Kaitlin Adams-Carrington. If we're raising her she gets our names."
"Kaitlin Carrington-Adams. Better alliteration and I can tell already you are going to stick me with most of the changing."
"You're the one with experience. Besides, one of us will have to go out and find a crib and whatever isn't in those bags."
"That can wait until after breakfast." Bart settled Kaitlin into Frank's arms, "Here you go Kitty-Kate, you can watch over Uncle Frank while I make breakfast."
Bart started collecting the makings for breakfast and grinned. "Uncle Frank and Uncle Bartholomew. I think that could work."
ysabetwordsmith's second prompt to my January Bingo Prompt call.Title: Untitled
Warnings: Post-Apocalypse, non-romantic homosexual housemates, edited while sick (fevers, yay! I mean boo, boo fevers!)
Length: 950 words
Genre/Setting: Science Fiction/Post-Apocalypse
As he had for the last two years, Bartholomew woke up and stuck to his side of the house until Frank was finished in the kitchen. When the other man left to work in the garden Bart made his own breakfast. Two years and he still didn't see how Frank could find the irony humorous. Before the apocalypse they were both outcasts in town because they were attracted to other men. After the apocalypse they each found the only other survivor in town was the one man they couldn't imagine having a relationship with.
After breakfast Bartholomew checked the fence-line cameras and status lights before heading out to fix the windmill on the neighboring homestead. Looking out from the top of the tower what was left of the town looked so peaceful. A quarter hour passed before he know it until a hawk's cry snapped him out of the moment. Before going back to work he checked that his pistol was still on his hip and gave the town a less comfortable gaze. They hadn't seen another man or woman in almost the full two years since everything crashed. But if they had survived who knew who else was out there.
Before it was dark Bart finished fixing the windmill. With it once more charging a shack full of batteries he headed straight home. Even in his rush to be back inside he made certain each fence gate was securely latched. A small loaf of rough bread and a bowl of stew waited for him in the oven. Frank was already back to his own side of the house so Bart took his time before carrying a tray back to his room, eating slowly while reading one of his scavenged travel books. It was another of the things Frank didn't understand. Even if the old world was over and gone Bartholomew had to believe there was still something left out there. What was the point in going on if there wasn't?
Soon though the sun finally dipped below the horizon and he closed the book. He didn't need much light to get the bowl back to the kitchen and rinse it nor to move the day marker over one space on his wood tile perpetual calendar.
Before falling into bed he considered what to do the next day. It was his turn to do the kitchen work but that would leave time for more. Once he'd decided on mending clothing for the coming winter he was able to relax and drift off to sleep. In his dreams he found himself in Hawaii relaxing on the beach while he watched a luau. By now even in his dreams it felt odd to see so many people even if he knew once the beach he saw would have been considered almost deserted. He kept off to the side, watching dancers and tasting exotic food. It was simply more comfortable to watch than join in even if someone started crying and shouting his name.
"Darn it all Bart! Wake up and get out here!"
Bartholomew sat up as the dream fell away, but not the crying. Not the crying which didn't sound a thing like Frank. It couldn't possibly be what it sounded like but when he rushed out to the front of the house he found Frank staring into a bassinet.
"What, how... where did you find that?"
"She was already here, just inside the door. Just inside the locked door."
"She?" Bartholomew looked in the basket with the squalling blanket wrapped baby then at the duffel bag and backpack sitting next to it.
Frank held up a sheet of notebook paper, "Kaitlin. Whoever left her says her name is Kaitlin. They said they can't take care of her. They don't quite say it, but I think maybe they're always moving. Said they'd seen us before. Also apologized and said where there's some supply caches in town."
Frank shook his head after a moment and dropped the note before he stared up at him. "Bart, what do we do? I don't know how to take care of a baby."
"Don't look at me, it's been twenty years, not since my folks kicked me out."
"That's more than me. I was an only kid and the neighbor kids were all older."
Bart couldn't stand to leave the girl crying any longer and reached into the basket, carefully lifting and holding the tiny girl close, "It's okay Kaitlin, little Kitty-Kate. Uncle Frankie isn't that scary."
"Ha. Ha. I'm serious Bart, we don't even have anything but what was left in those bags. What was this person thinking?"
"That two guys with a home would be better than carrying a baby around out there?" He spotted a bottle slipped in one of the backpack's side pouches and offered it to the baby. "There isn't anyone else left in town or as far as we've dared. Doesn't matter, whatever they were thinking it's up to us now."
"I guess there should still be stuff in the stores that didn't burn." Frank tipped his head for a moment, "Kaitlin Adams-Carrington. If we're raising her she gets our names."
"Kaitlin Carrington-Adams. Better alliteration and I can tell already you are going to stick me with most of the changing."
"You're the one with experience. Besides, one of us will have to go out and find a crib and whatever isn't in those bags."
"That can wait until after breakfast." Bart settled Kaitlin into Frank's arms, "Here you go Kitty-Kate, you can watch over Uncle Frank while I make breakfast."
Bart started collecting the makings for breakfast and grinned. "Uncle Frank and Uncle Bartholomew. I think that could work."
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Wow!
Date: 2014-02-11 06:19 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2014-01-23 01:10 pm (UTC)