Thief+Dishonored Fics And Crossovers

Erin

Erin doesn't understand Garrett.

She suspects there's a lot of people who don't, Basso included, and he's known Garrett the longest out of probably anyone in the City. It's just part of his image, she supposes. The untouchable Master Thief. No one can understand how he works, at least not fully.

But sometimes she thinks she got close. Maybe too close. Maybe that was part of the problem. She remembers learning how to shoot a bow; how happy they both were when she finally hit the bottle. She remembers, very well actually, how often she would sneak up on him; how when he turned around to scold her she wouldn't see anger but pride in his eyes. He cared. She thought he did. She refuses to believe everything was a lie.

But she can't wrap her head around his aversion to killing. To violence. He already carries around a razor, a blackjack, a crowbar. Those are all weapons, as she's pointed out before. The blackjack he uses could be a lethal weapon if he just applied a little more force. But he refused to listen.

Erin worries about Garrett.

She would never say it out loud and he'd probably never listen, but she does worry. She knows how he gets when he's upset, how he isolates himself and refuses to let anyone close enough to help. She's seen Basso force him to accept help a couple times but it doesn't always work. Maybe that's another reason why they fought so much, because he was never willing to let her close enough to help. Not even her, who's seen him at his worst and his best and–not everything in-between but pretty damn close.

She wonders about him sometimes, when work is slow and she has time to herself. About how he's doing now after everything. She wonders if what he said on the Dawn's Light was true, if he really does care or if he only said it because he thought that's what she wanted to hear. She might talk to him about it. Someday.

An old fear, though, is the thing that keeps coming back to haunt her. An old, irrational nightmare that first started bothering her in the early years of her apprenticeship with him, before she knew him better: what if Garrett's refusal to kill is the thing to kill him? She knows how he feels about it. How could she not? All those lectures and the arguments borne from them still come back to her now and then. They still infuriate her too. Killing is a very last resort for him. It always has been, always will be. But it isn't so for everyone else in the City–her included. She worried that someone out there would see his hesitancy and use it against him. Of course, now she knows he's far too careful to be caught like that. He would never put himself in a position like that. Still, fear is an old nagging thing and she can't seem to make herself let it go.