Chapter Text
Chris had just gotten home from a long day, and was pulling off his work boots as he stumbled into his house after fighting with his keys to unlock his door. Leaving his boots by the door and moving to the kitchen to heat up some leftovers his sister had pushed into his hands a few nights before.
Moving through his entry way and through his living room, he stops at his back door, head fuzzy with confusion as he looks at the very large dog sitting with its nose against the glass of his back door. His snout is black, as are his ears, the rest of his coat is tan and his tail is moving a mile a minute. Chris can see the drool hanging from the dog's mouth in goopy strings and it’s pink tongue lolling out of his mouth. Chris frowns and rubs his eyes till there are white starburst patterns flashing behind his eyelids before he blinks and looks back. The dog is still there and very real.
“If this is one of Claire’s pranks, it’s not funny…” he says to himself before pulling out his phone to dial his sister's number. It only rings a few times before Claire picks up.
“Hey Chris, what’s up?” She asks, sounding curious, and Chris can hear Leon in the background.
“There’s a dog in my backyard.” Is all he says, still not quite believing what he’s looking at. He must have been on speaker, and whatever Leon had been doing before clatters and he hears a shocked sound ‘what?’
“There’s a dog… in your backyard?” Claire asks, sounding even more bewildered than Chris is. Chris pitches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
“Going off the sound of your voice, this has nothing to do with you?”
Claire makes an affronted noise, “Why would I put a dog in your backyard?”
“I don’t know Claire, I just couldn’t think of any other way a dog got into my backyard unless you let it in. You’re the only person who has a key to my house.” He explains, and Claire hums.
“Well how big is it? It could have jumped the fence or gone under it.”
Chris sighs and looks back at the dog, imagining it vaulting over his fence. He imagines that it’s plausible.
“Alright, you have a point.” He concedes.
“Does it have a collar?” Leon asks, and Chris has to fight the urge to sneer at the sound of Leon’s voice.
“Dunno. I’ll check.” With that said, he hangs up and moves towards the back door. The dog's tail begins whipping back and forth, and his ears perk up. Chris takes this as a sign that the dog isn’t aggressive, as well as the fact that he hasn’t barked once since Chris spotted him. Chris looks down at the dog's neck, and finds that he is indeed wearing a collar. It’s a garish yellow color, and hanging from it is a metal tag.
Chris pulls open the door after unlocking it, and the dog stays put, but he whines and wiggles in his spot. The high pitched whine makes Chris smile a little as he leans over to check the tag. The dog stays blessedly still as he does so. He finds the dog's name, Sturm, what he assumes is the owner's last name, Heisenberg, and a phone number. Once Chris punches the number into his phone, he stands straight again and looks at Sturm.
“Well, what do you say to finding out if your owner is looking for you?” He asks Sturm, who takes this as an invitation into the house. Christ watches from his spot as Sturm begins sniffing everything in sight while the phone thrums in his ear.
—
Karl had been working in his garage turned workspace for the better part of the day. Exhaustion was beginning to set deep in his bones, as a nightmare had woken him during the ungodly hours of the morning, so he decided to put the music box he was working on away for the night.
Standing up and stretching, all of Karl’s joints popping loudly as he does so. A jaw breaking yawn forces its way out of his mouth as he drops one arm and pushes his fingers through his greasy hair. The feeling makes him grimace. He makes his way inside, greeting Urias and Strajer his Irish wolfhounds as he does so. Both of them are laying on their beds, and Sturms is empty. They wag their tails and stand up. They both follow him into the kitchen, waiting for any attention he may give them as he pulls a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Where is Sturm?” He asks his two older dogs, Urias woofing softly in return. Karl sighs, then takes a drink and begins to scour the house for the one year old mastiff.
Searching through both floors of his house doesn’t produce Sturm, so Karl resigns himself to searching his overgrown backyard. He goes to slide open the door when his ringtone begins blaring from his back pocket. He grumbles under his breath, sliding the door shut once more and pulling out his phone. He doesn’t recognize the number on his phone, and debates ignoring the call.
However, with Sturm being nowhere in the house, it has Karl pressing the green answer button, an annoyed sneer on his face.
—
It takes a few rings before Sturms owner picks up, he sounds annoyed, and Chris can pick up the slight accent in the man’s voice but can’t place where it’s from.
“Hello, who is this?” The man asks.
“Hi, this is Chris Redfield, your dog was in my backyard when I got home.” Chris explains, watching as Sturm flops down into his couch.
“Shit, sorry about that. I can come pick him up, could you send me your address?” The man’s tone flips from being annoyed to somewhat sheepish.
“Sure. I’ll send it over text, I’ll see you later.” Chris says, and before Chris can end the call the man does it for him. He quickly sends his address, and the man sends back a thumbs up. He pushes his phone into his back pocket and looks over at Sturm, who is making his way into Chris’ kitchen.
Chris follows Sturm into his kitchen, the dog large enough to stick his chin directly on the counters.
“Hey!” Chris says rushing over and pulling Sturm away from the counter and towards the living room.
“Come on, trouble maker. Into the living room.”
Sturm barks softly, tail still moving back and forth. Sturm doesn’t protest, he simply walks with Chris into the living room. When Chris sits down on the couch and pats the space next to him Sturm hesitates for a moment before jumping onto the couch and laying his head on Chris' thigh. Chris places his hand on Sturms head, trying to ignore the slobber that seeps into his work pants, and moves it down towards Sturms neck. He does this for a few minutes before his doorbell rings, and Chris can’t help but think that Sturms owner got to his house awful fast.
Chris stands up, grimacing at the wet spot left on his pants, and goes to answer the door. Sturm stays on the couch, not even budging when Chris pulls open the front door.
The man that stands before him is a few inches taller than him, with shoulder length graying hair, and a short beard. His eyes were covered by a pair of round sunglasses and an old worn looking hat sits on top of his head. He’s wearing an oil stained button up shirt, and a pair of jeans and boots. He’s got three necklaces around his neck and a leash the same color as Sturms collar. Chris can’t tell what emotion is on his face.
“Chris, right?” He asks, the accent in his voice slightly more noticeable now that it isn’t over the phone.
“Uh, yeah, Sturm is on my couch. He seemed pretty content to stay there when I got up. You’re Heisenberg?” Chris explains.
Heisenberg nods, “On the couch? You let him up on your furniture?”
Chris moves to the side to let Heisenberg in, humming with a nod. Heisenberg steps in and Chris leads him to the living room where Sturm looks up at both of them and wags his tail.
“Sturm, runter." Heisenberg says sternly, the second word in a language Chris can’t place. Sturm whines but stands and gets off the couch.
“Why don’t you allow him on your furniture?” Chris asks, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“I’ve got three big dogs, and one couch, and I am not exactly a small guy. They have their own beds to lay on all over the house.” He says, pulling the leash from around his neck and attaching it to Sturms collar. Chris must admit that Heisenberg has a point if the other two dogs are just as big as Sturm.
“Thanks for calling me. Sturm has a bad habit of getting into places he shouldn’t be.” Heisenberg says as he and Chris walk back towards the front door.
“No problem. Does he get out of your house a lot?” Chris asks.
Heidenberg shakes his head, “No, just into places around the house and backyard that he shouldn’t be in. This is the first time he’s gotten out. I should consider myself lucky that he didn’t go towards the main road.”
“That’s true. Well, have a good rest of your day.” Chris says, bidding the other man farewell, Heisenberg doing the say as he steps out of the house. Chris watches for a few moments as Heisenberg walks down the sidewalk before shutting his door and going to make food like he originally planned before being interrupted by his guest.
—
A few days later, on Chris’ day off just after he woke up, he is on his way down his stairs when he looks at his back door and sees Sturm laying down in front of the door. When Sturm spots Chris he hops up and begins to pace excitedly and wag his tail.
Chris has to pause for a moment, and just stare at Sturm. He wasn’t expecting to see Sturm again, especially not so early in the day. He moves the rest of the way down the stairs and opens his back door, allowing Sturm into the house. Sturm presses his nose into Chris’ hand, whining happily at Chris.
“Hi Sturm. What are you doing back here?” Chris asks Sturm, scratching Sturm behind the ears. Sturm, of course, doesn’t answer. Chris rolls his eyes and decides that Sturm can stay for a while. Chris turns and heads into the kitchen, Sturm following close behind.
Chris sets out to make himself breakfast, just some eggs and toast. While he cooks, Sturm sits patiently just outside the kitchen, watching Chris.
“I wonder if Heisenberg trained you to sit outside the kitchen.” Chris says aloud, and Sturm woofs softly, tail thumping against the ground. Chris isn’t sure if it’s the smell of the kitchen that’s causing the long strings of drool, but he decides that he may as well make an extra egg or two for Sturm. After all, it's rude not to offer a guest something to eat.
Once Chris is done cooking, he sets the now dirty pan in the skink, and picks up both plates. He carries both of them out to the dining room table, setting his on the table, and Sturms on the floor next to him. Sturm isn’t far behind and sits down in front of the plate, waiting patiently.
Chris takes a bite of his own food then points at the plate on the floor, “Go ahead.”
Sturm stands up and bows his head and begins eating with only the gusto a dog can have. Chris watches for a second, amused at the big dog's antics. He goes back to eating.
After both of them are done, Chris dumps both plates into the sink, and grabs a large bowl from one of his cabinets. He fills it halfway with cool water and sets it down in front of Sturm, who once again followed him into the kitchen. Sturm laps up the water with the same gusto that he ate the plane eggs with. This causes water to get all over the tile floor.
“Jesus Christ.” Chris says backing away from the mess and going to grab a dish towel to mop up the mess on the floor.
Once that task is dealt with, and Sturm is done drinking the water Chris calls Sturm to the back door and lets him out. He figures Sturm could explore the backyard, and possibly use the bathroom while he calls Heisenberg.
Heading back into the house and up the stairs, Chris snatches his phone off of his end table. He first opens up the text from his sister wishing him a good day off, and sends back a text hoping she has a good day at work.
He quickly looks through his recent calls, and finds Heisenberg's number. He takes the time to save it in his phone this time, having the feeling that this is going to become a regular thing.
He presses the call button and waits for Heisenberg to answer as he pads back down stairs. The last ring cuts off as he walks outside to watch Sturm run around, and the voicemail Starts up.
It’s the generic one that comes on all phones and Chris waits somewhat impatiently as it drones on. Once the tell tail beep sounds Chris speaks.
“Hey Heisenberg, Sturm is back at my house. Come pick him up whenever you get the chance. I’ll be home all day.” He hangs up, and tosses his phone onto his outside table.
Chris watches Sturm for a few more minutes before deciding to head back inside. He opts to leave the back door open so Sturm can go in and out of the house as he pleases. He sits down on his couch after grabbing a random book off of a shelf.
—
Chris’ reading is set aside quickly, as Sturm brings it upon himself to jump almost directly on Chris. After this Sturm wouldn’t let Chris just sit on the couch. He repeatedly jumped on and off the couch right next to Chris until Chris stood and chased Sturm outside.
This became a game for Sturm. Every time Chris sat down on the couch, Sturm would do something that made Chris get back up. Once Chris caught on, he put his shoes on and went looking for something that could be used as a toy.
He found an old shirt that he never wears anymore and tied a knot in it and he and Sturm began using it as a tug toy or makeshift ball.
It’s nearing early afternoon when Chris’ phone rings. He lets go of the now slobber soaked shirt, letting Sturm win this round of tug o’ war. Chris is a little hesitant to answer the phone, having Sturm here with him brightened up his day off which usually consists of Chris milling about his house before he gets dressed and going into work to do any paperwork that needs to get done.
Chris grabs his phone and presses the answer button after seeing that Heisenberg is calling him.
“Hello?” He says, jumping a little when Sturm barks at him.
“Hi, I’m sorry for not answering earlier, and for leaving Sturm with you all day. I am on my way now. Did he bother you too much?” Heisenberg says, sounding tired.
“No, he was good. He had breakfast with me, and we spent most of the day playing in my backyard.” Chris says, chuckling as Sturm whips his head back and forth, the shirt still in his mouth.
“Thank you for taking care of him. Again I’m sorry for not answering earlier. I’m walking up to your house now.” Heisenberg says, and hangs up. Chris sets his phone on the patio table and walks to his front door. He pulls it open just as Heisenberg is stepping onto the porch.
He’s wearing torn blue jeans, combat boots, another button up shirt which is sloppily buttoned, and his hat and sunglasses are in place as they were before. He looks exhausted.
“Hey Heisenberg. He’s out back.” Chris says, just now realizing that he is still in his sweat pants and loose t-shirt he’d woken up in.
“You said you walked here?” Chris asks, choosing to ignore that he got so distracted that he hasn’t showered or changed yet today.
“Yeah, I didn't get your message until I got home, and I only live just around the bend. On the other side of the neighborhood. Figured I may as well just walk instead of wasting the gas.” Chris nods, figuring Heisenberg had to live at least somewhat close. Chris leads Heisenberg out into the backyard where Sturmis laying on his back, the shirt still in his mouth.
“I appreciate you not just tossing him out, and for playing with him today.” Heisenberg says, whistling sharply causing Sturm to flip over onto his stomach and look over at Chris and Heisenberg. He looks excited to see his owner.
“It was no problem really. It was fun actually. He’s a good dog. Did you teach him to sit outside the kitchen when you’re cooking?” Chris asks, turning to look at Heisenberg.
Heisenberg nods, “I did. I raw feed the boys, and they get excited when I cook even if it’s not time for either of their meals. Had to teach them to stay out if I’m workin with food.” He leans down and pets Sturm behind the ears when the dog walks up, “all three of them are so big they can just walk up and put their heads on the counter.”
Chris nods, having already seen Sturms ability to do so.
“Oh, I hope you don’t mind that I fed him some eggs this morning. I wasn’t sure if he’d eaten, and he was drooling up a storm while I made my own breakfast.” Chris says watching Heisenberg attach the same yellow leash to Sturms collar.
“It’s not a problem, he usually gets an egg with his food anyway. Some extra won’t kill ‘im.” Heisenberg says as they make their way back to the front door.
“Alright I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” Chris says, and Heisenberg snorts.
“Jesus, Houdini here probably will get out again. I’m sorry about that.” Heisenberg says, actually sounding apologetic.
“It’s no problem, he’s a good dog, and he’s well behaved despite his penchant for getting out of your yard and into mine.” Chris says.
“I’ll have to eventually figure out where he’s getting out. The back fence is a disaster, and I haven’t had the time to get out and fix it up.” Heisenberg says.
“Eventually, but as of right now, he ends up in a safe place, so it’s not too big a deal right now. I’ll see you next time, Heisenberg.” Chris says as they step out onto the front porch.
“The name’s Karl. I’ll see you next time Chris.” Karl says, shooting Chris a grin as he steps down the stairs and walks away from the house.
“See you later Karl.” Chris says, too quietly for Karl to hear. He turns back and heads into his house, locking the door behind him.