Halo looks down. "I don't mean to keep you as a slave or someone to do my dirty work. I just need protection. You can do as you wish, I don't mind." Halo says softly. He never wanted to keep someone against their will. He knew how that felt all to well.
Thatcher frowned as he thought about what Halo said. Halo wasn’t aware of what he had done, how terrible it could be to bind a Reaper. Giving and taking life was an important thing. Normally, his kind controlled the balance when it was needed, but under the control of someone else, the balance of everything could be seriously thrown off. “I would like to do my job, then.”
Halo nods, sighing softly and he looks down into his cup. "Go ahead." He says slightly, shaking his head. He knew what he was doing was wrong, taking lives, but people… if people like that in the world were hurting innocents. It wasn't okay… He groans softly, and shakes his head.
Thatcher could see Halo’s hesitation, but that shouldn’t be his problem. He reached into his pocket, taking out the paper and pen. “I’ll need names,” he said, leaning forward against his elbows as he rested them on the table. He glanced Halo over, lips pursed in thought.
Halo looks at the paper, his eyes glancing at his hands then towards the paper. With small, trembling hands, he gently takes the paper from Thatcher. He had seen the enslaved children, the sobbing mothers, the broken and weak fathers. He gulps softly and slowly trails the pen across the paper, writing the names of the men. He takes a small breath before handing it to the other. "Here." he says quietly.
Thatcher looked at the paper as he watched Halo struggle. He pushed to his feet, taking the paper from him and glancing over the names. “I will take care of them, and you will be safe,” he told Halo, though he knew that wouldn’t be much of a reassurance for his conscience.
Halo nods and leans back, sighing softly. "Alright… come back safe…" he whispers softly. "Don't want you getting hurt again." He watches as the other stands and he looks down at the table. 'I'm doing this for a good cause…' He manages to think before he rests his head on the table, glancing down at Glitch.
“I will try,” Thatcher said simply. His side still ached, as well as his bicep, but he couldn’t afford to take any more breaks. He reached down, giving Halo’s shoulder a pat before stepping away. He went out the front door, shutting it behind him. He walked away from the house, looking around slowly. After giving a whistle and waiting a moment, Nike was heading over to him. The hound gave a growl, and he pet at one of her head’s.
He sighs softly, standing and watching the other through the window before heading to his room to clean. He had to keep himself busy. His hands shook, his eyes clenched shut as he tries to think. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to relax.
Thatcher frowned at Nike when she appeared agitated. “Show me what’s wrong,” he murmured to the hound, taking a moment longer to stroke her before he followed her through the woods.
Halo sighs and flops onto his bed, Glitch jumping up onto his chest. He sighs softly. "I don't know what to do anymore, Glitch." he says softly, looking at the ceiling.
Thatcher eventually arrived near the hunters camp, and his expression immedietly switched into a scowl. There were a few men, and blood smeared on the ground nearby. They must have obviously just killed something or someone.
Glitch barks and he shakes his head, before looking back at the ceiling. "I'm stuck like this… I have to admit I'm ready to admit, I'm so confused…" He mutters softly.
Thatcher watched for a moment longer before he clicked his tongue and motioned to the men. Nike gave a growl, stalking through her bushes to the men before suddenly pouncing, biting and tearing at them with her three heads.
Halo stands and starts to pace, shaking his head. "I can't do this…" he mutters, looking at Glitch. He wasn't sure what to do, how could he handle this…?
Thatcher watched as Nike trotted back over, her fur covered with blood. Her middle head dropped a man’s leg at Thatcher’s feet, her tail wagging. His nose scrunched up in disgust, and he whistled for her to follow as he walked back Halo’s home.
Halo begins cleaning, something soothing, systematic, should help with his nerves. His hands shake and he leans against the counter, feeling weak and sick.
Thatcher walked back into the house, motioning for Nike to stay outside. “Halo?” He called, walking into the kitchen. He frowned when he saw the state that Halo seemed to be in.
Halo looks up, "H-hey.. you're back." he smiles a little, standing. He shakes a little before leaning back on the counter. He grabs a glass of water, downing it. "How'd it go?" He asks softly.
“It went as planned, they are dead and I didn’t get hurt, like you asked,” Thatcher said. He frowned softly, though, as he glanced Halo over. “Are you alright?” He asked, thinking that Halo appeared upset.
Halo nods, "Mmm… just a headache." He says softly. He sets the cup down and sighs softly, sitting down. "Thank you." He mutters softly.
Thatcher nods his head, moving to lean against the counter now. “Do you still need help with your cleaning?” He asked after a moment, watching Halo closely.
"No, no. I finished most of it… I was going to start on lunch." He says softly.
“Do you need any help with that?” Thatcher asked. He had a slight feeling that maybe he was pestering Halo too much, but he brushed it off. He was only trying to be helpful.
Halo smiles softly, "That would be wonderful." He says softly, standing as he gently rubs his head. "Let's get started on lunch." He leans against the counter as he searches for spices.
“What should I do..?” Thatcher asked, seeming genuinely confused. He didn’t need to eat, so he had no idea how to cook really anything besides meat.
Halo chuckles softly, "I can teach you." he says softly, humming as he grabs a few more ingredients to make chili and cornbread.
“Alright,” Thatcher hummed, nodding his head a bit. He moved so he was standing up straight, glancing over the things that Halo had taken out as he tried to figure out what Halo was going to make.
He smiles, humming as he begins to make the chili, hissing softly as his head faintly pounds. He adds some spices, preparing the beans.
“What would you like me to do?” Thatcher asked, leaning over Halo’s shoulder to get a better look at what he was doing. If he was going to be staying with Halo for a while, he would have to help out with some things.