Assessing

Who: Brett and Everett
Where: The vicarage
When: afternoon

Everett knew he should be doing more. He'd been good lately; helpful, reliable, structured. And talking with Posy had helped return a bit of social normality to his head, but it wasn't enough. He'd headed back up to his room afterwards, and had just sat there for a while. He had clothes ready to be changed into, a razor to smooth out his scalp and jaw, thoughts half-formed in his mind about what he could do and who he could go see. None of it seemed worth pursuing, though. Why bother? He'd just end up getting himself in deeper.

But for all his apathy, Ev slowly went through each step of getting ready. He was still pursuing the day and his vague plans for it, just at a pace that felt like moving underwater. He needed a smoke, three drinks, and a week to sleep. But he didn't have any of those things, so Ev just ended up heading downstairs. He didn't make it far from the stairs before he ended up sitting on the bottom few, slowly lacing and tying up his boots, eyes fixed on his hands as they worked each lace together.

Brett hadn't bothered so much with his chair today. Since yesterday's hours spent working on it had basically been thrown back into his face. That and he had other things to do, and he couldn't afford today to spend most of the day stuck in one place because his only means of getting around that wasn't dragging himself along the floor like some extra from a zombie movie was in pieces on his bedroom floor. In the end, he'd just oiled the rusty piece of shit as best he could and called it good. It made it slightly easier to get around in, but the thing still squealed like a bitch wherever he went. Stealthy he was not today.

But he had considered the dragging part. Not to enable him to take the wheelchair apart, but because he needed to get Eris' pills from upstairs, and dragging was really the only way he'd be able to get up there. It was that, or asking someone else. And Brett fucking hated asking people for anything. He hated admitting that he couldn't do something. Then again, he also hated the idea of demeaning himself to such a level that he could be caught hauling ass across the floor, and literally at that. So far, he hadn't decided what to do, but the morning had been and gone and she needed to take her meds, so when he heard footsteps on the stairs, he headed out to see who was there.

The screech and groan of the chair was as much of a herald for Brett as anything could be, and when the sound hit Ev he made a concerted effort to compose himself, knotting his laces tight. "Hey," he greeted as Brett came into view, giving a simple nod. Ev was hoping everything was okay with the other man; after the first day and Hannah's heated words with, well, everybody? Ev didn't want to field more turmoil from the people he was living with for now. Sure, he'd been intent on taking it all on before, but that had been before his morale had crumbled. Before her. "Another fucking day in paradise, huh?"

Brett barked a mirthless laugh. "Yeah, something like that," he agreed, reminding himself that he was probably going to be expected to be 'nice' if he wanted this guy to do anything for him. That plus he was always aware of exactly what Everett had done, the lengths he'd go to. And who he'd done that to - and the fact that she was currently laid up in bed, fairly fucking helpless. It made him edgy, on guard. Like he needed that added impetus.

"They really like to shove it in and break it off, huh?" Ev asked with a nod at Brett's chair. The man had seemed pretty self-reliant before, but a contraption like that was just mean. He was surprised the scientists hadn't just left Brett a cart and a pair of gloves to push himself around with. "Not just that, either. Heard from the new girl that you had a chance to talk with her. Posy? Real piece of work, that one." Which, well... Ev was one to talk. Murderer. "Lately I haven't been thinking I wanted to hear Hannah going off on anyone, but I think I'd almost enjoy hearing her have a go."

"Don't get me fucking started," Brett told the other guy, not looking happy - not that he really ever looked happy, but looking possibly even less happy than he usually did. "And yeah, talked to the new girl - don't think she likes me much. Not something I'm gonna lose sleep over," he shared. Not at all - that was his aim in life. Unless, like right now, he wanted something. He fucking hated asking for things, but right now he knew he had to swallow his pride and work up to it. It might take him a few though whilst he tried to find a way of easing it into the conversation. Maybe minimise the importance to him somehow. Fucking girl.

Ev chuckled coarsely at Brett's vitriol, nodding his agreement. "Precious little sleep as it is, no sense in losing some of it over people who want to know the fucked up details we've all built up." For all his apathy, though, he had to wonder about even this conversation. Brett had been curt before, but he'd also been brief. He'd gotten his gun, grabbed some tools, and wheeled off. So was this a segue into something else? "I'm thinking of heading out, looking for anything the sadists have in store for us today. Anything I can do around here for you before I do? Lend a hand on the chair or anything?" He didn't want to be patronizing, and Ev wasn't sure how much help he'd be, but it was in his nature to offer.

"Not point doing shit to the chair - took the fucking thing apart yesterday, spent all damn day cleaning and oiling it. Today? Back to piece of crap again. Looks like they don't want me getting around easily. So, no thanks." He paused and refused to let himself show any signs that this was a cave for him. "But you can get Eris' pills from upstairs. They should be on her dresser," he said, not adding any type of explanation about why he wanted them at all.

Well that was a surprise. Ev didn't think he was beyond that point, not here, not trapped at the whim of his tormentors, but he also didn't expect the surprises to come from the people around him. It showed, too. "What would you need those for?" he asked Brett neutrally, "She left town yesterday, didn't she? Unless you're planning on mailing them to her... y'know, I didn't even realize you knew Stockard." Had she conned him in their shared time in town? Some part of Ev suspected as much, but another part? Well... she wasn't the same woman she'd been back home. And as much as it bothered him, he largely believed what she'd said before; that she was done playing her old games.

"Not caught on yet?" Brett asked, giving him a 'hmmm' look. "Fucking groundhog day or some shit round here. Everything's back where it was yesterday. My chair, food, clothes... her. Don't get to leave this town, so, she'll need her meds," he explained, though it was a pretty bad explanation. He just would prefer to get throguh this without admitting to the guy who tried to murder her that the girl was sick and mainly helpless in one of the bedrooms.

"Can't say I have," Ev answered, shaking his head to cover his expression. She was back? Ev didn't know how to feel about that, which wasn't wildly different than anything else involving Eris. The murderer he'd murdered. The woman he'd broken himself to get to. "Haven't really done much with my day yet, but honestly? I'm not too surprised, they pulled this sort of shit a few times with the lot of us back in the mansion. But yeah..." he trailed, rising with a grumble and a stiff pop from both knees, "I can get Stockard's meds for you. Any idea what I should grab? Or just everything that's pill shaped?"

"Everything you find that's pill shaped - there's a lot of them," he told the other guy. He could have told Everett exactly how many bottles, their shapes, sizes, even their contents, but for Brett that would class as too much information and Brett preferred to pass on as little information as humanly possible. At least the guy had dropped the 'why do you want them' tack.

He had indeed dropped that angle, trudging upstairs and into Eris' room with little fuss. But while he was up there, Ev was thinking. Was Brett looking out for her? Some sort of twist on his own physical limitation compelling him to care for others? He didn't seem the type, but Ev didn't seem the type to kill, either. Don't get sloppy, Dupree, he chided as he rounded up a few bottles and a row of tab containers that kept pills in a scheduled row, Sort him out like any other case or suspect. Heading back downstairs a few minutes later with his arms loaded up, Ev kept an easy smile on his face for Brett's sake. "So you never said, how'd you know Stockard, exactly? I figure we've only been stuck here a day, and she took off. Doesn't leave much time for bonding over a latte'."

"Never been much of a coffee drinker anyhow," Brett agreed, holding a hand out for the pills, though the amount there was much more than a handful. But! He had a handy lap to take care of that. "But I don't, not really. Just another person stuck in this house, right," he suggested. "And just doing a favour, is all," he added, since he wasn't going to leave it that he was asking for a complete stranger's pills here. That would just be dumb.

"Well, I won't rehash advice about strangers and trust, even if I'm old enough to act like a parent. Wrong color," Ev joked dryly, handing prescriptions to Brett bottle by bottle. If he was going to make good on what he'd told Eris, whether she cared or not, he had to resist the urge to dredge up their past or warn people about the dangers of knowing her. And even if it ended up getting him killed? Ev wasn't going to let himself be levied against her again. Or anyone. I choose my fights, no one else. "Tell her I hope she feels better... we should talk too, maybe. She'll say no, of course. And if there's something else that needs doing, give a shout."

Never said she was ill, Brett thought to himself. But then again, the amount of meds here - 'sick' was a natural conclusion to jump to. He considered it for a moment, then decided to go for the barb, because he could. He looked at a couple of the bottles. "These aren't going to make her feel better," he told the other guy, looking up. "These? More long term. She'll always have to take them, I figure. Dunno why - maybe something happened to her at some point," he suggested, though he knew exactly what had happened. The meds in his lap were there because of the guy in front of him, but specifically imparting that knowledge would be to say that he definitely knew her, and knew her well enough for her to confide. So, vagueness. "And, for the record, I don't trust easy. And you don't have to worry about me - I can look after myself. Been a good few years since I've needed a parent."

"I know what they're for," Ev was quick to say, recalling Eris' words hte first day they'd met again. 'Why yes, you did give me some brain damage'. Between her and the fellow officer he'd handicapped back in Atlanta, Ev was starting to feel like it was too much of a trend in his life. "I can read the labels, y'know." His expression had gone hard around the eyes, lines setting around his mouth and in his brow. Suspicions were flaring up inside, but he couldn't exactly accuse Brett of anything. The guy just happened to want to help Eris; Everett couldn't judge him for it no matter what the reasons. "Like I said, tell her I hope she feels better." He turned and started back up the stairs, a guaranteed place Brett couldn't follow, intent on scouring his room for a cigar yet again. He knew there wouldn't be one, but it'd be enough time wasted to keep from dealing with the accusations in Brett's words, real or imagined.

Brett watched him go, satisfied with having gotten some kind of a reaction, feeling no guilt at all for a low blow. The fucker deserved it as far as he was concerned. He watched until Everett was out of sight, then turned, starting back toward the spare room, the bottles cradled in his lap, a very slight smile on his face.