brett and hannah

Stand Off

Feeling:
bitchy

Who: Brett and Hannah
Where: The vicarage
When: Late afternoon

His wheelchair was still a piece of uncomfortable stained shit, but at least it got him where he wanted it to now without a lot of hard work and an annoying squeak. Most of the rust was gone from the wheels and it moved smoothly. Hell, the thing shone in places, but then Brett had worked like hell on the fucking thing all day. Or most of the day. It was easier than thinking about things anyway. Things like the fact that his room might be liveable, but the kitchen was a fucking death-trap and he couldn't get himself to go in there. The galley shape meant that he wasn't convinced he'd be able to turn round once he entered and it'd kicked up his claustrophobia like nothing else. So, right now, he was fucking starving. So far today he'd managed to find some food in his bags, along with the note from Eris. He'd balled it up and thrown it away. She was a fucking liar, she'd lied to him - he wouldn't put it past her to lie to him about not lying to him. People couldn't be trusted. People were just waiting for the angles. She'd even admitted it to his face. What she'd been - clearly what she still was. And he'd given her the benefit of the fucking doubt. He'd been understanding. He'd been a fucking fool who deserved everything he fucking got and it was better off that she was out of his fucking life.

He was sat out on the porch at the front of the house, recovering from his latest attempt to brave the kitchen. Latest failed attempt. He needed the air, so he was sat there, in his piece of crap chair, eyes closed, head back a little, just breathing. It was cold, but he'd lived through colder. There was the smell of impending snow in the air - he refused to think about what that would mean for her if all the houses were locked up. Or worry about whether she'd taken her meds today. Fuck her. Fuck all of them. He just wanted to be alone.

Unpleasant Surprises

Who: Brett and Hannah
When: Afternoonish
Where: In between Hannah's place and the church

Hannah hadn't been planning on going down to the church; she doubted there was much she could do to help out, and she didn't want to be seen supporting the decision to arm the people in the town. In her opinion, that was a damn good way to get shot by some friendly (and crazy) fire. So she'd stayed home, wondering when she was going to hear from Jason about Emma and wondering if she wanted to know badly enough to risk interrupting them - wherever they were. She'd been playing her cello when the doorbell rang; that was unexpected enough that she didn't really think about ignoring it.

Reasons for Leaving Early

Feeling:
sick

Who: Brett and Hannah
Where: Movie Theatre
When: Evening

Brett had seen the ad, notice, whatever thing put up on the journals by some woman saying that she and her husband were having a party and decided very firmly that there was no way in hell he'd be going to that. But, he needed something to do - he couldn't stay in and stare at four walls all day and wheeling his way around town was starting to get dull. Still, he'd done it, just to get out and he'd got as far as the movie theatre and it's announcement about a horror marathon.

Now, horror wasn't really Brett's thing, but it would be dark in there, and he wouldn't have to talk to anyone. It seemed about as good as it was going to get. And so it was that he'd spent most of the day sat at the back, in an alcove that was the best they could do for a guy in a wheelchair. Apparently 'disabled access' wasn't one of the considerations that had come up in the design brief.

It wasn't until late afternoon that Brett started to feel itchy. The cinema was pretty spacious, but still, he could feel it closing in on him. He managed to sit it out until the end of the next film, but then he was out of there, turning and wheeling himself quickly from the theatre, ahead of anyone else, until he was back out on the street, where he sat, taking deep, calming breaths and blinking in the dying light of day.

[open]

A blind girl and a dude in a wheelchair walk - mostly - into a diner...

Who: Brett and Hannah
When: Afternoon
Where: Diner!

Hannah stormed into the diner still riding the edge of anger from her encounter with Everett; she was pissed that he'd pulled that crap on her and was seriously contemplating sending an emailed invitation to tea to Jason, Lina, and Dave. But first, her blood sugar was about to drop through the floor and she wanted her belated breakfast - which wasn't trouble-free, sadly. She first had to educate the wait staff as to the rules regarding service animals in establishments that might otherwise have no-animals rules, and then realized when she sat down that she'd forgotten her reader. Finally, however, she managed to put in an order by declaring she just wanted some goddamn pancakes and bacon and coffee, however the hell kind of meal or combo or ordering convention they had for that. Scowling down at the table, she realized she was doing it again, taking her irritation with Everett out on everyone around her, and made an effort to put a more neutral, if not friendly, expression on her face. And she even thanked the waitress when the coffee was brought out, much to what she was sure was everyone's surprise. Even her own.