ravetillyoucry - Tumblr blog

ravetillyoucry · 15 days ago

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THE OVERTURE

hiiiii this is the writing I promised. LMK if you would like a continuation of their Thing because now that they’re Established they are very open to Situations and whatnot. No set story just a sandbox of Scenarios type characters. 😛 the Logic of the shrinking is inspired by The Shrinking Man by Richard Matheson- maybe they’re in the same universe idk we’ll find out later

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The thing that stood out the most about that night wasn't what had actually occurred, despite how impossible and surreal it was on paper, but just how hot the whiskey tasted before Cassidy came stumbling out of that bar and into the rickety old gas station on the other side of the street- that's what he always remembered when he thought back on it. It still burnt the back of his throat as he half-hazardously drove the block back home, almost enough to mask the taste of his stomachs contents as they churned their way up into his mouth, pooling and waiting until he swallowed back down with a shudder. He would've just walked it if he hadn't found what he did- or, found who he did. Drunk driving was one of the few crimes he was adamantly against, not just because of the needless risk it imposed onto the people of the hick town he hated, but because he cared far too much about the Chevrolet C/10 Cheyenne he'd spent a year and a half fixing up after his father died and left it to him. It was far too cold to walk a block home whilst drunk for who he had found, however, so he'd just have to take the risk and pray to God his truck would make it back without a scratch on it.

Cassidy didn't actually know who it was that laid, all shaky and damp like a newly born fawn, on his right thigh as he drove- but what he did know was that if he would have left him out on the pavement, bathing in the fluorescence of the gas station's neon 'OPEN' sign, he would be dead. To put it bluntly, the person Cassidy had found didn't seem to be human at all. He looked like a human, sure- with straggly brown, almost black hair that stuck in strands to his face with sweat, pale sickly olive skin splattered with freckles you'd have to squint to make out properly, arms, legs, eyebrows and eyelashes, an absence of any kind of beard, a nose, both eyes, a mouth and teeth too. Undoubtedly, he looked the part of a human man- or maybe a teenaged boy- but there was one, minute detail that threw Cassidy off entirely: he was no taller, maybe even a little shorter, than his very own pointer finger. The same finger in which he'd used to hold up the little man's head, that way it didn't nearly get taken off as he'd wrapped the rest of his hand around the man's form and taken him into his truck for the ride home. Cassidy had previously been against kidnapping too, but tonight, it seemed paramount to the little freak of nature's survival.

He shivered and he shook like the leaves he was similar in size to that surrounded his little body on the corner of the pavement, but the sight was comforting to the drunken Cassidy that took him home- if he was shivering, he was alive, and that's all he wanted to preserve in his fleeting act of heroism. It wasn't a long drive at all, and if it wasn't for the little man trembling like a wind up toy using every cog and mechanical part in its equally little body just to do as small of an action as take a step, or in his case, the rise and fall of the chest as he took in what shallow breaths he could, Cassidy probably would've found himself nose first into someone's letterbox. By some miracle, he'd ended up back at his house parked as perfectly as he could on the pavement, just fifteen feet from the front door of the little bungalow he'd bought five years back with what little money scraped together after the divorce. Cassidy may not have had his children, or his dog, or even the goddamn goldfish- but he'd say he had done a mighty fine job with the place, with or without them. Despite this, as he laid the tiny man down on a throw pillow of which he couldn't remember the origin of, Cassidy found himself doing a little tidying up whilst rifling through the kitchen for the hot water bottle.

Since the birth of his daughter, Cassidy had taken a vow to never handle a person as delicate as a newborn baby was ever again. He barely trusted himself to hold any of his children, at least for the first month or so, but he was better a man than to let his wife do all the dirty work after child labour. Now here he was, swearing to himself under his breath as he- drunkenly, with one finger at a time- went to cradle the little man in his hand, the most reasonable form of transportation in order to move him onto a newfound warmth. Cassidy hoped that in soon enough time, he would stop the shivering all together and wake up, just as he was when he found him. If he hadn't have been letting out such sounds of pure terror and pain, Cassidy probably wouldn't have found him lying there. He wondered desperately who he was, if a person at all- maybe an alien or some supernatural entity with fairy powers. Being a person seemed to be the most reasonable title for the man, but that left the question of how one person could be so small lingering along with it. It couldn't be true, Cassidy would rather believe in folk tales and conspiracy theories than what he saw in front of him: that a man sort of similar to himself in some capacity could be so incredibly small.

A part of him really, really wished it was all a hallucination- that he was completely wasted and imagining as ridiculous a thing as a thumb sized man fighting for his life atop of a hot water bottle big enough to fit two or three more of him by his side- but there was nothing more real than the dampened skin and hair that tickled against the grooves of his fingerprints, than all the components that made the unreal man so inherently humanoid. Even the laws of physics couldn't deny it- there was a tiny person in his house, and Cassidy had brought him there off of his own volition, his own deep rooted need to be the hero, even for just one night. It was safe to say he didn't plan on spending any sleepless nights with his ass planted on a barstool, neck-deep into a beer bottle, anytime soon.

There was nowhere in the world Adam hated more than Hutchinson. Nothing good came out of it, nothing good came into it. There was nothing good about the place at all, and when there was, it'd run away faster than he could catch it. He had decided on the night of his nineteenth birthday, he would run away too. He could chase after the good things, as fleetingly as they came, and be free of the chains that kept him forged to the shit-hole of a town he had lived in his whole life. As a child, he recalled hiding under the blankets and praying to God to make him an adult, to make him twenty-five and living in some place like New York or Toronto, in an apartment with his best friend doing a job he loved, surrounded by people that didn't know or care about who he was or where he came from. That was the plan, even after his nineteenth birthday had passed, and is twentieth, and even his twenty first.

Adam had vowed to himself that he wouldn't get to twenty two if he still lived in Hutchinson, even if it meant leaving his mother to fend for herself against her new, and yet identical to the last couple of hundred, boyfriend. He was sick of taking punches for other people, it was about time he took a few for himself, as long as it meant getting the fuck away from the place he was supposed to call home. So he did. All he needed was a backpack to hold every one of his worldly possessions, and then he was gone.

Three days, that's how long he'd been hitchhiking before something had gone terribly wrong. He'd gotten only two rides in that time, the first leaving him at some motel in Abilene, and the next... Adam wasn't an idiot, that he was sure of, but he'd fallen asleep by accident essentially seconds after fastening his seatbelt and settling into the backseat of the sleek white car. A 1989 Rover 800, he was told- Adam never really cared much for cars, but he could appreciate a nice one when he saw it, especially given how new it was. Surely, a guy driving a car this fresh off the market wouldn't risk getting blood and brain stuck between the leather of the seats just to rid the world of one more sleazy queer hitching a ride for no longer than an hour or two, so Adam felt it safe enough to rest his eyes, even if just for a moment.

If he was half dead and half naked on the side of the street, he'd probably be far less panicked than he was right now. At least then he'd be able to sort of decipher what happened to him, where he was and how he could recover from it- but as he lay, fully clothed yet freezing cold on some sort of endless plain of concrete- he realised he had no idea what could have lead to his current predicament. Adam had no recollection of how he could have ended up here- he couldn't even recall how much time had passed from when he must have fallen asleep in the back of that strangers car to that very moment- but that didn't really matter, not then, at least. No, there were far, far bigger things for him to worry about.

If he was drugged, he didn't remember it, although he assumed he must have been given the sight he saw right in front of his eyes. Out of it wasn't the right descriptor for how Adam felt- he was aware, more so than usual, and he could perceive the depth of the world around him as acutely as he could whilst sober. It was impossible to see what he was seeing, but there was no other explanation- not only were there leaves and cigarette stubs as long as he felt tall at either of his sides, but there was a boot big enough to snub him out just as effortlessly, attached to a leg taller than he could comprehend, attached to a man taller than life itself. Adam couldn't hear for how hard his heart was beating, but he could tell from the dry rawness of his throat after the fact that he was screaming. Who wouldn't have been? He'd never felt such sheer terror in his life- even when faced with boys he once knew from high-school and their newly earned gun licenses, paired with their father's rifles in the back of their pickup trucks- Adam had never been so fearful for his life, until now.

Before he could see much else of the man the leg and the boot branched up to be, Adam had fainted with fear. He was eight years old again, the only thing visible through the patchwork sheet he'd had on his bed since he was a baby being the warm orange glow of the overhead light that he wasn't supposed to have turned on after he was put to bed. Maybe this was it, maybe Adam had woken up to be twenty five, and maybe the corner he had awoken upon was right outside of his city apartment. Maybe he'd fallen down the stairs and hit his head, blacking out for no longer than thirty seconds, having no worse than a concussion, being able to return to the life he'd always dreamed of.

It was apparent that none of the above was his reality when Adam awoke for a second time. At least it wasn't so cold, and at least the surface he laid across wasn't quite as uncaring as the concrete pavement, though not much less. The weight of his body sank into the silicone, forming an indent that did no good for his back, but was comfortable enough to not want to sit up from regardless. He made sure to wait a moment before opening his eyes, to listen to his surrounding, to gauge whereabouts he could possibly be just from every other sense but sight that he possessed. Unfortunately, by the end of his hardly thorough investigation, Adam had concluded that he still knew absolutely nothing about where or when in the world he was, and he'd just have to look and see for himself if he wanted to know any better.

His visual surroundings didn't clue him in much more than he'd already gathered, although they made one thing more apparent than ever: he was small. Not just small, in fact, he was tiny. Smaller than the half empty glass of water beside him, smaller than whatever it was he was laid upon, smaller than the handkerchief draped around him like a blanket, but most importantly- far, far smaller than the man sat in front of him. Screaming was no longer an option, he'd lost his voice by this point, but he could certainly stare up with his mouth agape and his pupils shrunken just as his whole body had become. The man didn't say much at first- for a minute or so, he didn't say anything at all. He just stared with equally as wide eyes as Adam's own, mirroring his expression, except with far more wonder and curiosity than the fear captured upon Adam's fingerprint sized face.

A million different questions flurried through his head- where was he, what was the date and time, was he just really small or was the man from some unknown, mythological giant realm? Now wasn't the time for questions, however. Adam couldn't think straight, let alone see clearly, or speak a word of English. Maybe he hadn't just shrank, no, it could be far worse than that. With how stiff and rigid his body felt, the most logical answer to Adam's new form was that he must be some sort of ornament or action figure. The thought was almost a nice one- that someone would want to keep him up on a mantle piece, pretty enough to be looked at, but too pretty to be touched in case he shattered into a thousand, even smaller glass pieces across the hardwood floor. That must be it- it had to be.

If he was going to be a display piece for the rest of his inanimate life, Adam thought he might as well get to know the house he'd be living in, and who would come and dust him off every now and again when said house called for some spring cleaning. The face of the man in front of him was one Adam recognised. He didn't know him personally, God no, he was certain he was far enough away from Hutchinson to see anyone who knew him as well as he knew them- but he knew what kind of man stood, or, more accurately crouched and bent down, before him. Your average small-town, mid-western, middle aged, pick-up truck owning hick with half of his brain located in his mullet and matching dickies cap- or, alternatively, cowboy hat.

Whilst the man didn't quite have the haircut, or matching sideburns and handlebar looking moustache the kinds of men Adam knew from his hometown sported, he certainly carried himself like a Hutchinson guy. A forever furrowed brow hiding behind strands of unwashed, uncut and uncombed brown-grey hair, a dirty button-up with the sleeves rolled past his elbows, calloused, hairy hands and equally as hairy arms. The type of men that would run him out of bars and off the road if they knew a man like Adam even so much as glanced in their direction for a second too long. Either way, none of what he had left behind in Hutchinson mattered anymore, and the topic soon left his mind when said giant man began to speak.

Cassidy thought it'd be best to let the little guy get whatever he had on his chest right off of it in the form of panicked yells and cries of confusion, but the longer he stared with vacant, glossy eyes- as if he were not in this world entirely, completely absent with just his physical form left behind- he decided it'd probably be best to give him some sort of explanation to what exactly he was doing here and who had brought him to this point. He was owed that much. He opened his mouth to speak, but in all honestly, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. What could he say? 'Hi, sorry I kidnapped you, you're in my house and I'm willing to help you return back to whatever fairy door you crawled out of once you're back to health'? No matter what Cassidy said, he knew it probably wouldn't be the best, or even the right thing to come out with given just how bizarre the circumstances were. Instead of mulling it over in his head for any longer, he decided he was better off just getting on with it and praying he didn't offend the small man and end up with a cursed bloodline for generations to come.

"Look," He started with a sigh, instinctively moving to shield his face with a thumb driving between his brows. "You're scared, you're in some unknown place with a... Well, fuck. With a fucking- giant you don't know," God. This would've been much easier if he weren't also drunk. "But, listen, I'm not gonna-hurt-cha. Okay? I wouldn't have fuckin'.. Destroyed my kitchen looking for that hot water bottle you're all cozied up on for'ya. If you understand what I'm 'tryna tell 'ya, nod your head."

And by some miracle, after a brief moment, the little man nodded his head. Not only was he a real, living breathing person, but he could understand Cassidy. They could communicate. For the first time in a long time, a rush of some unfamiliar relief and excitement crashed against his body like an incoming wave. It was something worth celebrating.

"So you understand me." Cassidy smiled wide, the small gesture of a nod from the little man bringing as much joy as hearing his own children utter their first words. Now he was sort of grateful he was at least a little sloshed- the highs were way higher this way. "That's great, that's really, really good. You don't know how relieving that is, Jesus Christ, alright. I get it if you're.. too frightened to talk or, if you can't talk at all- that's alright by me- just,"

His head throbbed, a dull, rhythmic pounding causing his stomach to churn and his eyes to water. Cassidy had almost forgotten why he ever decided to get sober.

"I'm gonna go... to the bathroom. Stay there, you've probably caught a cold at the very least with how I found you. Just, don't move. Rest up. It's late enough." By this point, his speech was slurred and his head was reeling. If he didn't take some ibuprofen in the next sixty seconds, Cassidy was sure he'd drop dead right there.

Weirdly, as he rushed off to his own bathroom and locked the door behind him, he felt the same kind of fast bumping in his chest as he did when he was feeling particularly nervous. He had no reason to be nervous at all- he was in his own home, having brought the little man in by his own volition- but nevertheless, here he was hiding out and washing his face by the sink like a teenaged girl on her first date. It would've been more humiliating hadn't he noticed just how dirty his hands were in that moment, the underneath of his fingernails being black with grit and grime he'd picked up throughout the day. Oh God, he'd held the man in these hands, he'd probably dirtied his little clothes and skin with his lack of basic hygiene.

Dampened hands scrubbed at the aged face they belonged to, no wrinkle and scowl line going untouched as Cassidy pulled and squeezed his skin, hoping to sober himself up at least a slight bit before going back out to address the elephant in the room. He didn't notice the droplets of water from his beard as they fell into the sink, he stared back at himself through the clouded, de-silvered glass of the mirror for far longer than he had intended to. This couldn't be a lucid dream, the reflection in front of him was far too accurate, too familiar to be mustered up by his unconscious subconscious mind. Cassidy took a deep breath through his nose, which proved to be a mistake once the water dripping down his face blocked his airways as he keeled over with a splutter, desperately pinching at his nostrils in an unnecessary state of panic. What he really wanted was to pass out on his bed, shoes on and all, but he couldn't. Pushing the stray strands that stuck to his forehead back, Cassidy hoped to God that the little guy did as he was told and stayed put.

Cassidy stumbled down the hallway with newfound clarity- he wasn't sure what specifically he would do in regards to the scientific anomaly sitting in his living room, but he was absolutely certain things would work out just fine. With time, he could learn where the man is from and take him back home to his family, or- in the case of which he didn't have a family at all- he could turn him in to a group of doctors or scientist that would foam at the mouth upon being given the opportunity to study such an impossibly small individual. The latter wasn't Cassidy's favourite option, but he was entirely certain that they would do a far better job at caring for the man than he would ever be able to do, so that gave him some peace of mind when mulling it over.

There would be bumps along the road, Cassidy was fully aware of that, but what he hadn't predicted was that they would come so soon after the journey had just began. Turning the corner at the end of the hallway, one small and yet remarkably alarming detail instantly caught his eye- there was no little man atop of the hot water bottle. He wasn't standing around on the coffee table, or lounging on the throw pillow Cassidy had laid out for him previously- of course he wasn't, the jump from the table to the couch was far too wide for a man of his size- and from what he could see, he wasn't on the floor nearby his feet either.

This couldn't be good, none of this could be good. Cassidy went to call out the little man's name, but he soon realised he didn't know what it was to do so. Panicking wouldn't do anyone any good, the man had probably run off due to being so scared in the first place, ranting and raving and raising his voice would only worsen their predicament. Before making any rash decisions, Cassidy let out a slew of curses under his breath, freshly slicked back hair forming into clumps in his hands as he racked through a series of options he had. He could freak out and scare the poor thing to death, or he could calmly go about finding him across the- what he previously thought to be a relatively small- expansive bungalow floors. The absurdly little legs of the man couldn't have carried him off too far, surely.

At first, Adam was going to comply completely with whatever he was told. His body was far from the appropriate state to cause a scene or go into any kind of frenzy, despite how badly he wanted to do either of those things, and it wasn't like he stood a chance against the giant either- he wouldn't have even if he was at his full height and in peak physical condition. Adam wasn't exactly sure what specifically made him change his mind, but the moment the sink started to run in the next few doors over, well, he got up and ran too.

Where he would go from here wasn't something he had thought about, his body overtaken with the fatal combination of fear and adrenaline, causing him to jump straight down from the coffee table and onto the rug below. Falling from an equivalent height at his normal size would've left him with a pair of broken legs at the very least, but as Adam's shrunken figure bounced about a dozen equally shrunken feet across the carpeted floor, he realised he couldn't feel even the slightest bit of pain- at least, not anything he hadn't already felt after waking up. Without wasting a second, he pushed himself up off of his stomach, slightly winded but ultimately unharmed, and began walking towards a goal he wasn't certain of just yet. The fibres of the rug reached about half way up his calf, with each step through the meadow of multicoloured threads being just as painfully difficult as the last. It was like trying to walk directly through a hedge- the microscopic branches, leaves and thorns clinging to the fabric of his tattered pants, creating a clinging static that tried to pull him back down onto his knees every time he tried to move forward.

Adam would always be far more stubborn than sorry, he'd come to realise that by the time his treacherous, tedious journey through the rug had concluded. Having stable grounds to stand on was not something he originally pictured himself being grateful for when planning his getaway from Hutchinson, but by God did he want to kiss the hard wood panelling beneath him the moment his socked feet landed flat against the floor. A moment of bliss, pure unfiltered and unbridled joy. Adam could stand still and straight in this giant world, albeit fleetingly. As short lived as it was, he wouldn't forget how happy he'd felt, even as the ground began to tremble with soft, yet steadily incoming footsteps. So, the giant was the owner of the boots Adam had taken notice of before after all. There was no time to sit and stare at the craftsmanship heading towards him, Adam didn't want to be yelled at- or worse, but mostly he feared being yelled at, at least in the moment- for directly going against the giant's wishes, so he did the only thing he could think of doing in the split second he had to take a thought process into account with his decisions.

The couch was elevated about three inches off the ground, meaning Adam barely had to lower his head in order to run straight under it. He knew all too well of how disgusting the underneath of sofas could get, but he hadn't expected it to hit him so hard at such a size. Dust and grime flew up into the air like sand in a desert as he skidded to a halt on his heel- if he wasn't being looked for in the moment, he wouldn't have tried to hard to hold back the coughs and splutters that sat in his chest.

"Hey, where'd you go?" The voice wasn't nearly as gruff as it was before, and the delivery of each word was surprisingly coherent, even through the layers of cushions and fabric it had to break through to get to Adam's tiny ears.

With eyes shut tight, Adam held his breath, one hand over his mouth, the other rubbing his irritated eyes as they threatened to spill over with tears. Even if it was just due to the dust, crying would be giving in. Adam hadn't cried in years, and he wasn't about to let a little completely illogical supernatural interference change that.

"You're already in bad shape, and I can't imagine wherever you've run off to will do you any favours." Loud creaking in the floorboards followed by brief yet powerful thuds not too far away suggested he was kneeled down now, clearly searching for him. Another thud- a hand, resting right beside the couch. Big enough to encase Adam entirely, yet not too big to slide under and into his hiding spot.

He regretted his choice before, but now- Adam was certain it was the last decision he'd ever get to make. The giant won't have any sympathy for him after such a blatant display of disobedience, surely not.

A grumble. Low and chesty, congested enough to sound almost like a growl to paranoid ears. "I'm trying to help you here. Please. Let me help you, will 'ya? That's all I'm trying to do."

Adam fully expected his words to come out all frustrated and angry, but instead, the giant sounded sort of hurt. He was pleading.

It was around now Adam had forgotten he'd been holding his breath entirely, his body desperately gasping the filthy air of the sofa's underside. He choked on his own breath, a tear rolling down his face, dripping off the tip of his nose as he bent over into a tiny, crumpled pile on the ground. If the giant was speaking, Adam wasn't listening, far too focused on the scratching of his dry throat as he gasped for some sort of clean air. Things were probably better working out this way- it was either get caught now or go forward with the nonexistent escape plan, and the latter of the two seemed so illogical and impossible that Adam would have ended up having died trying. What could he do anyway-? Open the front door and walk out? Scale fifty feet up the wall and drop down from the same height out the window? He was fully aware of his own stupidity, skating through his years in education by just barely clinging on to passing grades by the skin of his fingers, but he thought himself to have at least some amount of common sense somewhere within him.

No matter how badly Adam wanted to crawl out from his hiding place and accept whatever soft comfort or lashings that awaited him, the magnet that was the core of the earth kept him completely still- paralysed and grounded in place with fear of what was to come. What if it was all just an act, a rouse to get him to trust the giant, that way it hurts far more when the real intentions behind Adam's presence here came to light-? He couldn't think about it, especially not when the dust had already sent tears streaming down his cheeks, because now he couldn't tell if he was actually crying or not. It didn't really matter, he supposed, since it all looked the same anyway.

There were very rare times in Cassidy's life in which he'd felt so desperately helpless. He didn't like to think of them, he didn't associate with the person he once was, with the person that once felt that way. It was funny in a sick sense, that he was the one on his knees, calling out in a barely disguised frenzy for a man barely taller than his thumb. Holding him may have been frightening, a daunting task that quite literally put his life in Cassidy's hands, but the thought that he might be doing something good here made it worth the nerves. He cursed to himself. Of course, he was shit out of luck when it came to opportunities that proved to even just himself that he could be good. He'd been a terrible host, he ran off from the man about three sentences in and didn't even offer him anything to drink. No wonder he ran off too. Cassidy would've given himself a well deserved punch in the face if his fists weren't occupied, stuck to the ground with the weight of all the pressure he put into balling them up, hoping it'd stabilise every other part of himself by extension.

He'd almost given up entirely- having chalked the man up to being a figment of his drunken imagination after all- when he heard it. Just barely. To his left, a sound no louder than a squeak. It was him. Without wasting a second, Cassidy acted before he could think of the best course of action. He sat up from his knees, lifting the raggedy old couch with a single arm.

"What are you doing under there?" Cassidy didn't mean for it to come out so hushed and whiny, but it did just that.

Now that he could see the little man with the overhead light beaming on him- his own nerves not making him look everywhere but at his face this time around- Cassidy realised how sick he really was. Big wet eyes with even bigger circles beneath them, red nose and cheeks that had become damp with tears, his tiny body wracking with either fear or the cold, Cassidy wasn't sure which it was though.

He let out a low tut, his mouth turning to a line. "If you hadn't gotten sick before, you definitely will have now. I don't remember the last time I hoovered under there, come on out now."

Thank God there wasn't a language barrier between the two, they'd figured that part out already. After a brief moment of silent staring, the tiny man fulfilled Cassidy's request, tumbling out from under the couch with a slight limp. Had he hurt himself? Now wasn't the best time to play doctor, not after Cassidy had been hidden away from once before, not to mention how clumsy he got after drinks. It'd have to wait until the morning. Either way, any injury the man might have sustained didn't seem to slow him, and before his arms had started to ache, Cassidy was able to lower the couch back to its original position.

There it was again. Another sound that could've very easily been missed hadn't Cassidy been listening. He spoke, his little voice clearly strained, but one word: "Sorry."

If he were sober, Cassidy wouldn't have found the word quite so entertaining, so satisfying, just so pleasant as he did. The fact the word was an apology didn't matter- Cassidy wasn't mad, he wasn't even annoyed. The only thing left was the satisfaction of hearing his voice, of seeing him- for the most part- safe and sound, still in the house, where Cassidy knew he would end up alright in the end.

"So, you talk." If he were sober, Cassidy would've also felt like an idiot as he manoeuvred from his knees to lying on his stomach in his own home, on his own floor. Even if his face was small, Cassidy could still see the blank look of confusion plastered across it. He supposed he should elaborate on what he'd actually just been told rather than focusing on the obvious.

"You don't have to be sorry. I just don't want y'getting hurt, that's why I picked you up off the side of the street." Cassidy really wanted to reach out in that moment- to give a reassuring pat or something of the sort- but he didn't have the guts. He was far too afraid of his own strength.

Instead, Cassidy watched as the cogs turned in the little man's head. A tiny furrowed brow and open mouth as he processed the words that had just been spoken to him. "Side of the street..? What- what street? Where in the world?"

Cassidy frowned. The poor guy didn't know where he was or how he got there at all, did he? "Uh, Ottawa..?"

The tiny man wasted no time to interject, "Canada??" he asked, wide eyed and, weirdly enough, smiling. So, he was from this world after all. Geographical knowledge was a good sign, Cassidy supposed.

"No, Kansas." Cassidy almost felt bad telling him the truth as he watched the tiny face drop with disappointment. "Canada is a long way away, did you come from there?"

It was certainly a long ride to get there, but he'd feel bad for not offering to take the man home, especially when he was in such a state. It was the least Cassidy could really do for him, after all.

With a sigh and a hand to brush back the hair that stuck to his forehead with sweat, the little man shook his head. "No. I was hitchhiking for a couple of days before, but I came from Hutchinson."

"Oh, that's a relief. I can take you back tomorrow-"

"Please- Don't take me back." The already strained voice sounded so desperate. Cassidy had almost began to wonder just what he'd gotten himself into when it continued, "I don't know how I got like this, or if I'm gonna be like this forever- but, even if I was.. well, how I used to be, I wouldn't be able to go back. Don't make me, I'm- I'm pleading with you."

"Jesus, okay, you can calm down, I won't take you anywhere you don't want to go." Cassidy raised his hands to surrender. There was no way he'd bring the man back to a place that clearly caused him so much panic- he might as well have just left him on the pavement if he would do that- but there were a lot of things to consider before making any set plans. "You weren't always so.. small, then?"

"No." He said it so matter-of-factly, in a way that made Cassidy feel like a bit of an idiot for asking. "I don't remember shit. I got a ride off the side of the road in Abilene from this dude in a white car- a Rover, a new one. I thought, you know, you don't kill people in cars that shiny and new, so I let myself fall asleep for a while."

"And then you were on the side of the street."

"No, actually. I woke up a couple of times, but, like, briefly. We were in the middle of nowhere, just road and.. I don't know- nature I guess, and I stuck my head out of the window for a bit." He bit his lip briefly, looking around as if there were anyone else to hear what he was about to say.

Cassidy assumed he was on drugs, that he was about to be told the man had seen a UFO or something of the sort fly overhead, and that would be when he awoke. He supposed it wasn't too far fetched, especially when looking down at the man in all of his miniature glory.

"If I tell you what happened, can you not think I'm crazy?" he finally asked, quite literally trembling as he had began to pace around the floor. He looked like a little toy solider, going back and forth in his mechanically decided patterns after being wound up and set off.

Cassidy imagined himself from an aerial point of view, hunched down on the floor speaking to a man of such impossible size. It would've been funny hadn't it been his reality. "I promise, I don't think I could perceive you as any crazier than I feel right now."

"Okay." He swallowed. The man was surprisingly audible despite the difference in scale, which made Cassidy think he was probably a very good public speaker before, well, this. He didn't even know his name, but he still allowed himself to smile at the bundle of nerves and personality in front of him. Even in one of the most frightening times of his life, the little guy could project.

"There was a massive cloud out. The skies were clear, other than the one cloud- that's why I remember it. I was probably just delirious after just waking up, but.. I don't know. It- it glittered. When we passed it, I felt my whole body react. It was like one of those itchy sweaters, but it was everywhere- even on the inside, I felt it."

Cassidy didn't really have an answer. He wasn't sure if he believed it to be possible, but it wasn't like there were any other possibilities to buy into. What the hell, sure. A magical cloud made the unnamed man tiny.

"Right." He didn't mean to sound like he didn't believe the story, but.. "I know y'can't stay here forever, but there's no way I'm letting you out on your own whilst you're like this."

Of course, Cassidy didn't realise it at the time, but his words would come back to bite him in the ass a little later down the line.

The part the tiny man seemed the most perplexed about was the part Cassidy assumed to be the obvious, asking with a pitiful level of uncertainty in his voice: "You're really gonna let me stay?"

Cassidy smiled. He hadn't had someone so grateful to be in his company for a long while, if ever really. It was sort of cute, but he wouldn't say that out-loud. "If you tell me your name, sure."

"Oh, right- it's Adam." He didn't look or sound so frightened anymore, that was a good sign.

"Adam." Cassidy tested his name on the tongue. There was something so great about it, so fitting. The first man on earth, the beginning of everything. Cassidy only really started to take ideas of God into great consideration when it was late and he'd had enough to drink, in times like this one now- when he was still trying to swallow down the hot taste of whiskey that struggled to settle in his stomach.

It churned as he looked at the little man- at Adam. A gut feeling that they'd be in each other's lives for a very, very long time. "I- Well," Cassidy cleared his throat, his mind elsewhere when enough time had passed for him to return the gesture of sharing his name. "I'm Cassidy."

Saying his own name aloud always felt so strange. Introductions on the whole had always been awkward, now that he thought about it- especially when said person you're introducing yourself to is all but a couple of inches tall. He went in for a handshake before really considering the impossibility of it, leaving his open hand lingering around in Adam's vicinity, frozen as his brain short circuited on how to approach him. Cassidy closed his hand into a fist with a hiss of embarrassment, discreetly placing it back down beside Adam in an attempt to come back from such a miscalculation.

"I'll set you up a more comfortable place to sleep. Who knows, maybe you'll grow back overnight or.. Something."

Cassidy didn't really believe such kinds of miraculous miracles could occur, and he wasn't at all surprised the next morning when Adam was laid there exactly where and how he'd left him. He could say he didn't expect each of them to play such significant roles in each other's lives from that point onward, but that would be a lie. Adam couldn't stay forever, but God would he make a good go of it.

#g/t #giant tiny #g/t ocs #gianttiny #sfw g/t #size difference #giant/tiny #oc Adam #oc Cass #g/t writing #g/t story #shrinking #the overture

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