End of the Road

Who: Brett and Eris
Where: South side of town
When: Mid-morning

It had started when he'd gotten up. The lack of electricity, the cold, the semi-darkness. He felt it begin to press in on him the moment he awoke and as soon as he'd found out that there were no electrics, he couldn't get out of the house fast enough.

And then he'd seen the boarded up houses and he'd felt the town start to close in on him. Wheeling through the obviously mostly-empty streets, being outside just didn't seen to be enough and he'd just kept on going, until he'd hit the edge of town, the last house there, the wide open plain before him. That - that felt a little better. That felt less like he was going to start panicking. And he stopped and sat, his back to the town, looking out over the flatness of the world.

Eris had gotten up a while back and wandered through town alone. Then, she'd gone, looted a nice coat, gotten herself a bottle of really fine scotch from the bar, and started walking. She'd actually stopped by Brett's house earlier, but he hadn't been home. She imagined he'd be out somewhere, if he hadn't decided to slit his wrists in his bathtub or something. Either way, she wasn't especially enamored with the idea of dealing with this on her own, and it wasn't as if she had a ton of friends around. Or even pretend friends. All she had were enemies, strangers, and Brett. Who could at least hold a conversation, and didn't want to kill her yet.

Eventually, she spotted him, and she walked up behind him, until she was standing next to his chair, looking out at the same view he was. she didn't pull anything today, no kiss on the cheek just to rile him, no invasion of his personal space. She just walked up and was quietly there.

"How far do you reckon it is?" Brett asked after a few minutes of silence, for once not going straight into the insults and barbs. "If I just started out. Do you reckon the road goes all the way? I don't do well with dirt tracks."

Eris had kind of expected him to ask her if she hadn't noticed that he'd wanted to be alone or something, so when he didn't at all take that route, it surprised her a touch. But she paid attention anyhow, and kept her eyes on the horizon. "...sweetheart, if you want to see how far it goes, we can go, steal a car, and find out." she said. "But if you want my honest answer...I'm guessing 'farther than they could gauge anyone would be able to travel with provided materials and weather conditions'." she said. "So even if it's paved from here to moscow, it'll be far too long a trek." She sounded tired. Even the 'sweetheart' had sounded for once more genuine than just thrown in there to make him twitch.

"I've played this game before, I'm not sure I want to stick around to play it again. And this time they gave me a way out," Brett told her, still looking on down the road. It was tempting, really, really tempting. Just pack up and leave, drive as far as they could and then get out and keep going.

She nodded, and took a drink of her scotch, then absently held it out towards him in case he wanted some. "I know exactly what you mean." she replied, again, with a note of pure truth, because it was. When she'd looked around...her first thought was that she was dead. They just hadn't let her give up the ghost quite yet. And it fucking sucked. "I'm feeling much more suicidal today than usual. Want to take the drive?" she asked. Even if it was just to say they'd gone to see. Even if it was just to drive to the horizon, only to see that the road kept going as far as they could see.

He took the bottle from her, finally looking across. "Yeah - yes. yes I do," he agreed as he threw his head back and felt the liquid burn its way down his throat. That wasn't normally something he'd do - either the drinking, or the ride with her, but today wasn't normal and he had to know what was out there.

"Then let's go, Brett." she said. "The nearest car shouldn't be that far. And I think a lot of them even have keys. If they don't...shouldn't take me too long to find what we're looking for." she said. She was resourceful. She'd check the tank, go to the gas station, make sure it was full, see about filling up any other cans in there...if there were cans. She sure as hell didn't have a car, so she had ignored the gas station. Turning, she started to walk back the way she'd come, but she only walked a few paces before she looked back at him, waiting for him.

Brett half turned his chair, but just couldn't do it. He couldn't go back into that town right now. It seemed to loom up in front of him, even though all the houses were single storey and he took a breath. "How about I wait here?" he suggested with faux-lightness. "I'd only get in your way..."

She looked at him for a long, long moment. She didn't buy the lightness, and she didn't buy the him getting in her way thing. Not someone like him. But she didn't call him on it. And while any other day she would have had a field day picking it apart, today she just gave him a very light little smile and a single nod. "Save some scotch for me." she said, since she hadn't taken the bottle back from him. Then she turned to head back into town, to find them what they were looking for. She had absolutely no hopes that it would lead to anything but a solid, 'we're doomed' feeling, but at least she'd know. She wouldn't just be some rabbit hiding in town, stuck there by the idea she couldn't get out.

Brett turned himself back around, bottle cradled in his lap, feeling better once he was facing away from the town again, wheeling himself a few feet out beyond the last house just for good measure before he flipped on the breaks and unscrewed the bottle top again, taking another long drag.

Eris did not take long. She found a car quickly enough, one that had the keys in it, and she took it. Then she stopped at the gas station, and filled the tank. What she was pissed about, was the fact that there were no gas cans. None. And there wasn't really anything she could find that would make a suitable substitute, either. In the end, she grabbed a bunch of little snacks, because she couldn't leave on a road trip without them, and she stopped at the bar for another bottle or two of the best stuff she could find--she figured they'd be needing it. She also tossed some blankets in the back, and a few other odds and ends, just in case. She'd never been this paranoid before, but she sure as fuck was now. Then, she drove back to the edge of town to collect Brett. She didn't beep, but she drove over as close to him as she could get, then killed the engine, and got out. "There are no gas cans, which I really probably should have figured." she said. "But we have a full tank in the car."

Brett could think of a million and one little things they should probably take before they left. They shouldn't be doing this - they should stop, plan, prepare, make sure they were ready for all eventualities. A day, maybe, if they worked at it. Since they had nothing. Tomorrow, then they might be ready to leave. But, right now, he couldn't do it. Even if this was bound for failure, he couldn't go back into town.

He wheeled himself over to the car and threw open the passenger door. "You're gonna have to put my chair in the back," he told her, easing the arm nearest the car out of its socket so that he could lift himself out of the chair and into the car, pulling his legs in after him, one at a time. He reached back over and grabbed the half empty bottle from the chair seat.

Eris didn't say anything, just walked around the car, waited, then pulled open the back seat door, and finagled his chair inside. It meant she had to shove over the supplies she'd grabbed, but it wasn't as if she'd packed the car to the brim or anything. So, after a minute of fighting with it, she got it in, then she shut the door, and walked around to drop herself into the driver's seat again. She didn't turn the car over immediately, and she looked over at him first. "Ready?" she asked. She grabbed a cherry nib since the snacks she'd gotten were between them on the bench seat. "This might go horribly wrong, and we might not make it back." she said. "...I'm okay with that. Are you?"

"Or we could stay here, things could go horribly wrong and we might not make it out," Brett told her, shutting the car door and strapping on his seatbelt. "I don't like the options either way.""

"Me neither. I just had to check." Eris said, and she turned the engine over, then backed them up, and started them off. She reached out for the bottle, noticing he'd killed a bunch of it, but that was okay. She'd brought more. Taking a swig, she drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "I didn't want to be here." she said. "I would have taken being stuck here, I would have taken not getting shit for my trouble from all of this but braindamage and a scar. Just as long as it had actually been fucking over." she said, after they'd passed the gates.

"None of us wanted to be here, Princess. The only reason we stayed was because we thought it was over," he added in - the 'we' meaning 'I', of course, though he couldn't bring himself to say that. He was already feeling skittish and vulnerable - so much more so than he usually did that he'd dropped the usual highly prickly exterior.

"Do you wonder what happened to the people who aren't here?" Eris asked, honestly curious about that. She was driving, straight ahead, along the road, and she didn't glance once in the rearview mirror. "There were a shit load of people in the experiment when I was there. Over forty. Did they say no, and get to go home, and because we're stupid assholes we get to ride things out further?" Then she sighed a touch. "Is it fucked up that I figure they're probably all dead?"

"All the people who disappeared from our experiment just never came out of the tunnels," Brett told her. He'd mentioned that before to her. "I just figure they're still down there. Never believed that they found a way out - we'd know about it if they did. Once, for like five minutes when they first took us out of that fucking hole, I thought that someone'd made it out and gone got someone to come and get us, but... They would have told us that if they had. And they didn't. And now? With this shit? Fuck it - they're dead. They've always been dead. And if we stay, then we probably will be too."

"You sound very sure." Eris said, sounding like she believed him. Because really, at this stage? "You're probably right, though." she said. "Here's what's happening back there. Three people are going to get the power back on. It'll be done before nightfall. And then there'll be little town meetings. And someone placed in charge. And they'll keep fucking with us. Day in, day out, and they'll leave us alone sometimes, just to build up the paranoia to truly ulcer inducing levels. And people will disappear, and new ones will take their place, and we'll wake up some mornings and things will magically have changed themselves around with no one the wiser." she said. She was silent for a few moments. "...I don't want to go back there." God did she not want to go back there. And, as she kept putting it farther and farther behind them, she would even be willing to just drive them out of gas then walk. And then you'll go to sleep. And you'll wake up back in town, in your bed, probably. Or maybe they'd leave you for a few days then do it. Just so you suffer enough not to do it again.

"That makes two of us, sunshine," Brett agreed. He didn't want to go back, he never wanted to go back to the experiment - any experiment. They'd locked him away, shut him up. And now they'd let him out - he wouldn't go back there, he wouldn't be locked up again.

She reached for the bottle again, and took a pull before she handed it back to him. Silence stretched out for a few moments, though on Eris' end it wasn't necessarily an uncomfortable one. She was just thinking, her mind spinning hard in circles. "So, just so we're on the same page here...is there a point where you want me to turn back?" she asked. "Neither one of us wants to go back, clearly. But here's what I figure is going to happen. I'm going to drive and drive and drive and we're going to have endless road in front of us. And there won't be anything but that. Just the road. And eventually, I'll run out of gas. Then we can trek it from there, but I only have so many supplies." She paused a moment. "...and in the spirit of total, blatant fucking honesty, I think even if we started walking, kept going, and kept going, they'd let us walk until we were damn near dead, then we'd magically wake up back in that fucking town." She didn't sound like that was deterring her from wanting to try, she was just presenting what she thought of as truth to him.

"I'm not built for off-road, so why don't we just see what we find before we make that decision," Brett told her, some of his usual sarcasm returning to his tone as he talked about his own physical state. "Few years ago? I would have said 'fuck it' and kept going. I'm not bothered by a little walk - then again, it's not a walk anymore, is it?"

Eris shrugged. "That's why I'm telling you now. Though, if you needed help, I'd help you." she told him. It was simple, not some 'aww, sweetie' sort of pitying tone, it was a statement of fact. She would. She didn't care. She wanted out, and if it were up to her they'd keep going. But...they'd see. She would also turn back if he insisted. Wandering out in the woods to starve and such on her own wouldn't be something she wanted to do. "...well at least you're not suicidal today." she said, quirking a light little half smile.

"I'm never suicidal," Brett told her, sounding very much like that was part of the problem. And some days, it really felt like it. Some days it felt like it would just be so much easier if he could just bring himself to slit his wrists in the bath. But no matter how bad it got, he couldn't do it. He picked the bottle up from the seat between them and threw some more back. "And thanks - for the help, but... If it came down to it? If the road went away? You'd basically have to carry me and no offence darling, but you're not strong enough," he told her without any real malice. He was fucked, he knew. Unless this road was tarmac all the way to fucking Moscow or wherever, he'd have to go back. He just - he needed to know there was no escape. He needed to know they were keeping him here. That it wasn't him that was keeping him here. Like it had been last time.

"Couldn't go at all on gravel?" she asked. "There's got to be some way of doing it with the chair. I can push." she said. "Of course, we'd be going really slow, but..." she trailed off. "We'll see. I won't strand you out here." she promised. If she did, she'd be fucked. Because she still figured that they wouldn't just let her go. No matter what, she'd be waking up back in that town. So if she stranded him, then she'd be out the only person she had to talk to, and she'd spent months alone. Absolutely cut off from anyone and anything. And she had absolutely no desire to be alone again. And even if Brett didn't especially like her? He talked to her, and he was intelligent. And that was good enough for her.

"It depends how deep it is. Maybe - but, potholes? Or mud - it gets hard going really fucking fast," he admitted. "I can't ask you not to leave me - if you can go on. I'm not going to hold you back," he told her.

Eris laughed. Just a little, and there wasn't that much humor to it. "...and you know what?" she asked. "A year ago? I would have left you in a heartbeat, and not thought about it." she said. She shook her head. "But that's not the case right now. So...whatever we're doing, we're doing together. If I start feeling particularly suicidal, I'll make sure not to drag you into it." Which wouldn't say she wouldn't drag someone else, but then again, if she was going that route, she'd probably just say, walk across the street and see if she couldn't kill Everett before she went off to do something especially stupid. "Right now I'm only mildly. Like, I know the only way you and I would really be free? Is if I wrapped this car around a tree. I'm not going to, but the way they've worked everything, the way it's all been set up...we're not going to make it. I knew even before we left town that really? This is just proof. Proving that we tried. That we're not sitting in town trapped by the idea that they have us caged up. But then again I think the one thing that universally spread through the experiment I was in was being psychologically ass raped and no one got out without an acute case of paranoid delusions." She snagged a little licorice bit. "It'd be so much nicer if they were wrong every once in a while."

"I fell off a cliff," Brett told her, spontaneously, once she'd finished. "Dropped about twenty feet? Give or take, or really, at the end of the day? Who's counting? Would have been easier if I'd died, y'know? I've been 'trapped' ever since. Even wrapping this car round a tree is no guarantee," he finished, knowing what he'd just said made it sound vaguely like he'd attempted suicide in the fall - which was about as far from the truth as you could get, but what did it matter? He'd never really intended to tell her at all what had happened to him.

She was surprised. She hadn't asked him what happened to him specifically, just when it had. She hadn't figured he'd ever actually tell her. Well well. Brett was just full of surprises today, wasn't he? But then again, so was she, if she was taking a look at herself. She glanced at him as she drove, and gave him a little light ghost of a smile. "So you're a tough son of a bitch to kill." she said. "Don't worry, I won't crash the car. If we really wanted to kill ourselves, we could always try good old fashioned alcohol poisoning when we hit the end of the road." Since she'd brought quite a few bottles. She was only partly serious. She did figure they'd stop at some point and just get shit faced for lack of anything better to do, and so they wouldn't have to go back right away, at any rate. "What were you doing on the cliff?" she asked. She paused, then ventured a guess. "Rock climbing?" Since she'd made her assessment of him before, and still stood by it.

Brett picked up the bottle and considered the remaining contents. He didn't speak again until he'd drunk the lot, his head starting to swim a little. He hadn't drunk to excess since before the accident - hadn't wanted to put himself in a position where he'd make more of an idiot out of himself than he normally did. What was worse than a fucking cripple? A drunk fucking cripple, that was what. But right now what did it really matter? He was fucked either way. "I was on the cliff because some fucking little brat was bored, that's what I was doing there," he told her, turning round and dropping the now empty bottle behind the seat, grabbing a fresh one. Wasn't like he had to be able to walk anywhere, now, was it?

"Some brat was bored?" She asked, grabbing another bit of licorice, and she waited for him to crack the bottle open before she held her hand out for it. "What do you mean?" she asked. Because from that statement she could hear a really interesting story, but couldn't discern the meaning without more information from him. She was still surprised he was saying anything about it at all, but she was good with that. Eris did in fact, want to know.

"Daddy wouldn't buy him a pony, or some bullshit like that. And so he decided it'd be funny to call in that his daddy and brother were stuck out on a mountain somewhere and never came home. In the middle of a fucking snowstorm. You know what happens when someone calls that shit in?" he asked her, a rhetorical question, even though he was done talking.

"You were search and rescue." Eris put together. "That...makes sense." she decided. That actually put a whole lot of the picture of Brett together for her. That made him as a person incredibly clear, putting things into sharp focus for her. He was a hero type, who'd gotten crippled and it hadn't even been during a real rescue. That would definitely be world-crushing. "What happened to the kid?" she asked. "Was anyone else hurt?" she continued, hoping he'd tell her. She took the bottle from him, and knocked back a pretty healthy swig, then handed it back to him. Her eyes ticked to the gas gauge and she was thinking that the gastanks on these things had been specifically modified. They were probably very tiny because she was already kind of getting down there. She wasn't quite at half a tank, but it wouldn't be too much longer until she was.

"I think he got grounded. Or maybe not - who the fuck knows," Brett told her, near enough snatching the bottle back off her. "And no, nobody else was just hurt - just me," he added, bitterness very clear in his tone. It had just been him, just him to put a foot wrong. He didn't even know what happened after that - didn't remember how they got him down. Just remembered waking up in the hospital days later. Just remembered asking about the kid, the father. Just remembered the look on his friend's face as he broke the news. Everything was a blur again after that.

"Grounded." Eris repeated. She shook her head, and kept driving, that also putting so much into perspective. So everything else, and the fucker who did it to him wasn't even punished. She could definitely see why he was a bitter person. Why he was mr. rainbows and sunshine all the time. Yes, Brett now made a ton of sense to her. What it didn't do was make her feel sorry for him. Eris hadn't ever had a whole lot of pity for anyone in her life, and that hadn't changed. It just made her understand him better. Besides, he didn't really seem like a pity party guy to her, which was why she also didn't put any effort into feigning it. It was a fucked up story, most certainly, and it sucked, but he wouldn't be here if he hadn't had a fucked up story. Normal, well adjusted people didn't sign themselves up to be tortured for a year.

"Yup, slap on the wrist, told not to do it again and I got two years in a fucking hospital pissing through a tube," Brett told her, definitely drunk now. He didn't sound particularly sorry for himself either, just pissed about the situation and starting to slur his words slightly.

"Took two years for you to heal up enough to go home?" Eris asked. "Long time to be in a hospital. What happened with your friends and family?" she asked. Since he'd come here. So, either his own attitude or theirs had him alone, in all likelihood. Or he just thought he was. That was possible, but she wanted to hear his take. She also ticked her gaze to the gas gauge again. Fucking thing.

"ICU, recovery, rehab... Yup, two years all in all, give or take. And the rest of them? Fucked off - I don't... talk about them. Fuck it, I don't talk about any of this fucking shit and I don't want your fucking pity." Even if she didn't seem to be giving it, which was probably one of the reasons that he'd told her as much as he had. That and the stupid amounts of neat liquor he'd just drunk. That helped as well.

"Was I giving you the impression I was pitying you, love?" Eris asked mildly. "I'm not, for the record. I just asked. I was thinking about someone who joins something like this. Who voluntarily signs themselves up. I figured that any family or friends you had drifted during that time, for one reason or another. Everyone's always got their reasons." she explained, then started to slow the car down. "....and here is where the pavement ends." she noted, seeing it peter off, a gravel road still stretching off into the distance, but there was no sign of anything else. Houses, buildings, powerlines, anything.

"Most people do," Brett told her, but he didn't add anything more to that, or comment on his motivations for joining the experiment. He didn't want to talk about his friends, his family - he was all shared out for now. End of the road - literally as well as figuratively, apparently, as the car slowed and he looked out over the gravel before them. It wasn't surprising - he'd expected as much, really. But still - seeing it was something else. There was no sign of anything, no sign of how far the track went on for, no sign that it would get better - or worse. No indications of any type. He let his head fall back against the rest and looked up at the car ceiling. He shouldn't have told her about what happened - it brought who he used to be far too much to the forefront of his mind. That guy wouldn't be worried about this. That guy would have just packed up, prepared and started to walk. He wouldn't be facing the possibility that if he went forward, he might reach a point where crawling was the only option.

She drove out onto the gravel for a bit but not far, then brought the car to a stop and killed the engine. "We've got a little over half a tank of gas left." she said. "I'm guessing they modified the tanks on the cars to be a hell of a lot smaller, just to prevent people from doing this." she said, sighing herself and leaning back. "...so, sweetheart...what do you want to do?" she asked, rolling her head to the side to turn her attention fully onto him. She reached for the bottle, wanting another drink. She wasn't nearly drunk enough yet. Seriously. She needed a lot more alcohol in her system.

He didn't look at her. He continued to stare up at the roof of the car, blinking slowly, once, light to dark to light again. Watching the pattern on the roof. He blinked once more - light to dark to light. Back to the pattern. And he could feel the roof start o lower. He watched it almost objectively for a moment, until he felt the seatbelt start to constrict against his chest as well and he fumbled at it until he hit the button to release it, leaning forward quickly and opening the car door. "I want to get out," he told her, swinging himself round so that his legs were hanging out of the car. He felt trapped, so trapped. Even out here - they could keep going, but there weren't going to find anything. This was just another prison - just a larger one than the last - and he could feel the world closing in on him.

"...right." Eris said. She took another pull from the bottle, then she got out, and walked around the car. She leaned against the back door, next to him as she looked down at him. "I was thinking about lounging on the hood, want to come with me?" she asked. It wasn't that far to go, and she really didn't figure they were going anywhere for a while. She'd help him get there if he let her. If not, she'd just get the chair for him, but she figured she'd see first instead of assuming he'd shoot her down immediately. Even if she figured that was what he'd do.

"I don't care," he told her, looking up. "I just - I need to get out. Will you - get my chair... please?" he asked, his jaw flexing slightly, betraying the fact that he felt helpless right now. He hated having to be dependent upon others, but he'd agreed to come, he'd needed to come, and so now he needed her.

"'Course." Eris said, and she pushed off the vehicle, and she pulled his chair out, setting it down on the ground before she pushed her hip against the door to shut it again. She moved it over towards him, not sure where he needed it to be, but figured if it was wrong, he'd let her know. She was watching him, though she was actually taking care to not make it too obvious she was watching him. She gave off more of an air of just waiting, not studying.

He leaned forward the moment the chair was in reach, using his still quite substantial upper body strength to manhandle it into place at ninety degrees to where he was sitting. He took off the nearest armrest again and double-checked the brakes and moved the footrest out of the way, before shuffling himself even further toward the edge of the passenger seat. Then he lifted himself up and swung himself round and into the chair - fairly smooth, even though he was undeniably drunk by now. He fitted the armrest back into place, then flipped back to foot rests and, one at a time, lifted his legs into place, before moving himself a little, getting more comfortable. The whole thing took him less than a minute before he flipped off the breaks again and wheeled himself to the front of the car, feeling the pressure lifting again.

She reached into the car to grab the bottle they were currently working on, then handed it back towards him. "Want anything else from in here?" she asked, glancing back over her shoulder at him. She was still thinking the hood of the car was a great place to be right now, and the blanket would be good. She wondered if she'd remembered to grab more than one, and couldn't remember. Little things escaped her sometimes, even if she normally would have remembered.

"No," Brett said, the answer coming without him even considering the question. It would have been the same answer even if he did want something, force of habit was so strong.

She propped herself up and grabbed the blankets out of the back seat. Apparently she had remembered to grab two. Then she got out, shut the door, and hugged the blankets to her chest, staring out at the gravel road. "I don't want to go back." she said again, since it was the most prominent thing on her mind. Then she moved, and she pushed herself up on the hood of the car, setting the blankets aside for a moment.

Brett said nothing. He was faced away from her, sat where the tarmacked road finished, just before the gravel started, looking out down the road. he was thinking about all the reasons they shouldn't go on. They were unprepared, the car had been doctored - which meant it was a guarantee they weren't going to be able to reach another town. He was willing to bet they didn't have any real food with them, they weren't properly prepared for exposure and it'd been cold recently. She wasn't even wearing proper boots. He didn't have a decent jacket. But, behind them was the town and he didn't want to go back either.

She pushed herself up properly on the hood. "You coming up with me?" she asked. Kind of waiting to be ignored again. Her eyes rested on him for a long moment, but then they turned back out on the road. Ahead, not the way they'd come. She really didn't want to know if they could still see the town, or if they'd at least left it behind enough. Either way would be depressing for her. That they hadn't even managed it, or the alternative, that they had, but it was a total lie. And there they were, sat on the road, like it was some invisible tether-line.

He didn't speak for a long moment, and when he did, he didn't turn around. "It's too far," he told her. "To high - the metal's too slippy, on a slope like that. I wouldn't make it," he said, still staring down the road.

"It's lower on that end." Eris pointed out, nodding to the front end. "I could help you." she told him. She didn't think he'd let her, but she wanted to offer anyways. If not, she'd just toss him a blanket and curl up on her own, but if she was going to be spending time drinking and being fantastically depressed, she'd rather be comfortable. And flat out--it was cold, and body heat was one way of remaining warmer.

Again, he didn't answer straight away, the thoughts running through his head, the insurmountable pile of 'I can't'. He couldn't even get up onto the hood of a damn car - how was he supposed to keep going? This fucking chair, this who he was, this useless, pathetic cripple. He'd have to go back. He couldn't go forward, he'd never make it. He wouldn't be able to - he'd struggle and then he'd fail and then he'd starve to death, lonely and painful and fucking helpless. Because he couldn't. He was physically incapable. he was broken and pathetic and useless. And he'd never get out of here.

It took him a while, but he turned the wheelchair round, eventually, and headed over to the car. Fixing the brakes, he went through the usual rigmarole he had to go through to leave the damn thing, before finally looking up at her. "You'll have to pull me," he told her, before he began to move, a messy mixture of lift, shift and scramble - less than dignified as he hoisted himself up onto the lower part of the car hood.

Eris shoved the blankets out of the way, then moved down the hood, so she could do that. She didn't say anything, just got behind him, hooked her arms under his, and started to pull. And sure, it would be slow going, a little bit at a time, but what the fuck else were they doing? Nothing, that was what. They were sitting out here, avoiding the inevitable for probably as long as humanly possible. Or, that was her plan anyhow, she didn't know about him. She was pretty willing to put money on him wanting to drag out their return as well, though. So, she pulled him a little bit at a time up the hood, til he was up by the windshield, where he could lean back. Then she rested her forehead against the back of his shoulder and relaxed for a moment, catching her breath, because Brett? Was not a small guy.

Brett was breathing hard as well, his arms aching with the effort of getting up here as he leaned back against the windshield and closed his eyes for a moment, feeling her resting against him, but not having the energy to do anything about it. Anyway, it wasn't like before - like the kiss yesterday. That he knew she'd only done just to piss him off, but today - things were different today. And she was tired. Like he was tired. They both just needed a moment.

She took her moment. And when she caught her breath, she moved. Though she moved to do two things. First, to get the bottle, and hand it to him, the second, she got the blanket situation figured out. She spread one out over him, but with enough room that she could be covered when she went to lay out next to him, and the second she rolled up, to lay across the windshield beneath them to make it slightly more comfortable. Then, she took her place again, and laid back against the windshield next to him, eyes up on the sky. She didn't say anything yet, mind a little all over the place. That wasn't necessarily surprising, but it didn't help her focus at all. Her mind kept jumping. Little bits here and there, which she supposed she should be grateful for. At least she wasn't fully focused on the 'wow, this is about as desolate a situation as there ever was, now innit' of it all.

He actually lay there and let her 'fuss' with the blankets - not that what she was doing was particularly fussy, but for a guy who normally refused to let anyone do anything for him, it was a concession. "Was it you that posted on the journals asking for weaponry?" he asked, at length. He couldn't remember, but he remembered a post going up about that. Someone wanting to be armed. And he knew there were people in town that wanted her dead - it would make sense for it having been her.

"That was me." Eris said, making herself comfortable, still looking up at the sky as she spoke. "I've been told that if I 'set a foot wrong' or anything that my life is forfeit. Again. Honestly I'm a little surprised that no one's taken a shot yet. Or that the dear officer even bothered telling me he was going to keep me on a short leash." she admitted. "I'm vaguely surprised every day I wake up not strung up from the ceiling, with someone standing there, just waiting to kick the chair out from beneath me. They'd have to give a speech first, you see. Have to tell me why they were doing it. What a better place the world was going to be without me in it." Her tone was odd. It wasn't really bitter, or even impassioned. She was just...talking.

"Nice," Brett drawled, sarcastically. "Did you find any? Weapons, I mean?" he asked her, watching a drift past above them across the otherwise blue sky.

She shook her head. "No. Not really." she admitted. "Every once in a while I think about going to the school, seeing if I can find a fire axe or something." she continued. "But then I think to myself that you know what? They got me last time. It probably wouldn't do anything. And now?" She gave a little laugh, and it almost sounded natural, but not quite. It was just a little off. "Well. They set me up to feed me to people last time, I'm pretty sure that anything I could possibly try would be neutralized anyhow. So...mostly I think I'm just kind of waiting for the invisible axe to drop. For them to feed some information to whoever...drop something that they could 'accidentally' find. See just how fantastically thin an excuse it would take."

He looked over at her then - turning his head to face her. "I wasn't talking about them back there," he said. "I was thinking about hunting for food if we left. I think we both know it's a long way to anywhere out there and without transport, we wouldn't be able to carry much. So, we'd have to hunt. A gun would be really handy for doing that."

She actually smiled a touch at that, and let her head roll to the side to gaze at him. "Are we going to be hunting for food?" she asked. "Are you plotting?" She paused and thought about it, shifting to curl on her side towards him, not curled up to him, but facing him. "If we wanted a gun, I think we'd have to raid the police station. Which really, shouldn't be too hard, but we'd have to see who already did it. Unless people aren't nearly as paranoid as I'm giving them credit for. Then we might have our choice."

"I'm thinking - I don't really plot. Plan, maybe. I - I can't go back there to stay. I just can't. I can't go through that again. I'd prefer to take my chances out there, but... Remember what I said, before, about the people who went down into the tunnels?" he asked her, wondering if she remembered what he'd told her about them. About him.

She nodded, though she looked just a tiny bit troubled. "....I remember that it led to my assessment of you." she admitted after probably too long a silence. So she tried to trace her mind back, tried to figure out what she'd picked out from it that would lead her where it did. "...people weren't...you would know better what to prepare with?" she suggested, really, truly hating that she couldn't specifically remember. With her luck she'd remember later. In perfect clarity.

"How bad is your memory?" he asked, deflected from what he was going to say by her answer. He knew she had issues, but he didn't know exactly what they were - he'd shown no interest, after all. He'd just wanted to be left alone - being interested in the person you were talking to generally didn't go with the territory there. Hell, he didn't even know her name, but that didn't seem entirely important right now.

She looked away, since he was looking at her, and she didn't like the idea that he'd be able to see something in her eyes. Like vulnerability, which was what she was feeling at that point. "It depends." she said. "Honestly? I'm not even sure. They...healed me up just enough then shoved me in a room by myself for months, until these assholes took me to the town. So I haven't had a lot of..." she made a vague gesture. "I haven't had the interaction to test the theory. I know I forget some things, I've got short term memory loss. They left a lovely little printout on my shiny new conditions for me one day. Sometimes I don't know I've forgotten something. Sometimes I'll not be able to remember something when I try, and sometimes I'll remember later at random. It's like my concentration, sometimes I can't manage it, if there's too much else going on around me. And if I get distracted for a second, I usually can't latch back onto what I'd been saying, or hearing. Depends. I don't think it's that bad. But there are some issues."

Brett nodded, then returned to his initial subject. "They went down into the tunnels without knowing what they were doing. They didn't know what they were facing - oh, they thought they did, but... You take a flashlight, fine. Spare batteries? Maybe they'll get remembered. Bulbs? You know how many people even know you can change the bulbs in a flashlight? And that's just basic. How much food does a person eat in a day? How much water do they need to drink? How much does that all weight anyhow - and how heavy does something get when you've had it on your back for half a day?" He looked back up at the sky. "We should take a look at the car, see if we can figure out what they did to it - doubt we'll be able to undo it, but if it's something fucking obvious and we didn't..."

Eris paused for a few moments, still not looking at him, but she had her mind sort of drifting over everything he was saying. "There's a mechanic in town." she said. "And if you went, if you talked to her, and neglected to mention anything at all about me, she might help you." she continued. "If you let on you even give me the time of day, though, she might not. She's on the list of 'people who would like to see me dead'." She picked at the fur cuff of her sleeve for a second, letting her eyes rest there while she spoke and thought. "I can fire a gun alright. I've been to ranges. I'm sure you're good. If we were to take everything we needed, and we were going to carry things, would it be more or less work if we rigged a sled or something?" she asked. She trusted his opinion on the matter. And while a second before, she was thinking about him deciding her memory issues were going to be too much of a liability--he was still using the word 'we'. So until he said otherwise, she was still considering herself in.

"What's her name?" Brett asked, figuring that was a good place to start - and realising as he did so that the decision to go back, at least in the short term, was already made. For him, at least, though she didn't seem to be arguing otherwise. "As for the best way of hauling things. I don't know - I'd have to give it some thought. Work out approximate mileage, how long we'd be out there, water sources. Look - we know we're in Russia, right? What do we know about that? I know fuck all, other than Siberia's cold and empty - and even that might be wrong. Try the library? Find out worst case scenarios for where we might be - assuming they've not taken out anything that might contain useful information. If we're going to hit desert terrain with no water, prep'll be very different to wandering through areas filled with lakes and streams, y'know?"

She nodded, though her mind wasn't completely on what he was saying. She was taking it in as well as she could. He was making perfect sense and all, he wasn't saying anything that was confusing her, but she was thinking about the fact that she'd just fucked herself over. There wasn't another way around it, probably. But she still had. Because he'd get there, and he'd talk to Lina, and then they'd get talking. And they'd talk getting out. And she'd tell her little friends about it, and then suddenly the three fucking musketeers would be on board. And that put her out. Because she wasn't putting herself into a situation where she was out in the middle of the frozen nowhere, where she could have an 'accident'. She'd be happy to go off and wander around with Brett, and die of exposure, but she didn't want Kales to have the satisfaction. Or Lina. Dave...he wouldn't do it. But he probably wouldn't stop either one of them either.

"Her name is Lina." she said, finally looking back to meet his eyes. "And...Russia...all I know is really the cold and such too. I'm trying to remember if they have a permafrost going on like Canada or not. Not that I know what that would do to our plans, but...I think I remember that from school." Then she paused. "As far as I can tell, all of my memories are intact from before the whole attempted murder issue." She paused. "I'm pretty sure they have large predators."

"I've dealt with large predators. Course, I'm not much good against them now," he told her, wondering if he was actually seriously considering this. What was he doing? He couldn't do this - even with her help. The cripple and the amnesiac. What a joke. He should just give up and go back to his corner. Living death.

She shrugged. "I said I could handle a gun. Maybe we should look for a handgun, and a shotgun. A rifle if we could find one, but I'm not sure why there would be one in town. The other two, those are much more likely." Then she gave him a light little unreadable smile. "By the way, I'm not much of a cook, so you'd probably have to be doing the cleaning and shit, for rabbits over a spit or whatever we'd be eating."

"Cleaning rabbits I can do," Brett told her, that pulling him back a little bit from the edge of the overwhelming depression that was never far away. Because he could do that - he didn't need to be able to walk to gut small animals. It was just the rest he'd struggle with. The journey itself.

"Well, so long as we have that sorted." she said, smirking faintly. "Water...can we melt snow after it falls?" she asked. "That would save on what we had to physically carry with us." she said. "And...I'm assuming we wouldn't actually have to wait long for it to start falling." Being it was cold. Even laying there with him under a blanket it was still kind of cold. "We'd need some serious winter-heavy camping gear. How much you want to bet there isn't any in town?" she asked. "So, question--can we make things heavy-duty?" she asked. "Well enough to survive?"

"People have been travelling to the Arctic and Antarctic since well before the advent of gautex," Brett pointed out to her. "Wool, silk, linen - they're all really good against the cold if you layer them properly. Wool's waterproof, as is canvas if you use it properly. And, after the snow starts falling, that's going to make things even harder for me," he pointed out. "No way's that thing getting through a snow drift. shit," he swore, feeling the possibilities drifting away again. For her, it was just about keeping warm and fed. For him - he was stuck on 'movement'.

She thought about things for a long while, quiet for a few as she mused over things. Then she shifted closer to him, more for warmth than any other design, and she propped her head on her arm, so she could look down at him. "There's the farm." she said. "Maybe it has horses. If it does, rigging something for it to pull wouldn't be that hard, would it?" she asked. Not that she was that mechanically inclined, or mrs. woodshop or anything, but there had to be someone in town who could help with that. She thought she remembered some asshole saying he was a handyman or something.

"I'm never going to make it out of here," he said, closing his eyes, trying to shake off the feeling welling up inside of him, that total dread that constricted his chest, clawed at his throat. This was it - the end of the line. He was going nowhere. There was nowhere to go.

Eris watched him for a few long moments, not saying anything immediately. When she did speak, her voice was soft. Not necessarily gentle, but soft. "Sweetheart," she started, though the endearment wasn't said sarcastically, as she'd dropped that today. "We came out here knowing there was no way we were going to make it out. We knew that before we started even today. So I won't kid you. I don't think we are. I don't think anything we can do will make a difference." she said. "But I still want to try." she stressed. "Because anything is better than going back to that town and just rotting there. So we'll think of something for after the snow flies. Til then we'll work on other things."

"What's the point. What's the fucking point? You-" He looked over at her. "I can help you prepare. I can make sure you've got everything you need. You'd be more likely to make it on your own. Without me holding you back," he told her, hating the thought that she'd try and fail just because he couldn't do it. That it would be his fault.

Eris looked away again for a really long stretch of heartbeats, and she didn't quite know how to answer that. What to say to him. She felt that overwhelming wave of vulnerability again and hated every second of it. She didn't know if she needed to be truthful with him right now, or what. Probably. The truth just happened to suck a lot, and she hated everything about it. But she looked back at him and forced herself to meet his gaze. "I don't want to be alone." she said. Her voice was quiet, almost inaudible, but not. There was a neutrality to it that she had managed, she couldn't allow herself to put any sort of inflection on it at all. Neither in the way of true emotion, nor in another direction to mislead him.

He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath, deflating a little. All he wanted to be was alone - except, now, wanting to be alone meant going back to that town and staying there. If he was leaving, even considering it, he needed her, he needed help. But, if she wouldn't go without him, at least he wouldn't be holding her back. Not until she came to her senses and found someone else to be there as company. Then she'd ditch him, most likely. She would if she was sensible, anyway.

She kept watching him, then curled her arm beneath her head so she wasn't looking down at him anymore, she was on his level, watching his profile. "If you really have some burning desire to set someone else up to send them off into the wild blue yonder...you'll have to set up someone else." she said. "I'd rather keep trying together, personally. But that's just me. It's up to you. But my choices are that--stick with you, probably prepare a lot, go out, fail to leave, and try again, in the meantime hoping no one kills me in my sleep, or go back there and probably eventually try to provoke someone into killing me in my sleep. I'm not really the suicide type. At least, not conventionally. That second option is pretty grim though. I'd rather not consider it."

"There's no burning desire," Brett told her, after a few moments of silence, opening his eyes and watching another cloud drift overhead. "But without the guy in the wheelchair, you'd at least have a chance. Better than no chance at all. So, you don't want to go alone - I'm sure there are lots of people in town who don't want to kill you. There were, what? Five experiments. That's a whole lot of strangers for you to pick from to keep you company."

She was quiet for a while before she spoke. "Brett, do you wonder why I talk to you?" she asked, voice light, a little oddly toned. It was unreadable. "Why, with like you said, a town full of people who might not want to kill me yet, I could go find someone else to? It's not as if you enjoy my company. You don't like me. You tolerate my presence because I have a bad habit of not walking away. It's not as if I'm stupid, and haven't caught all that. I have." she said. She kept watching his profile, wondering absently if he was going to look at her again, or if she was going to be speaking to the side of his face the whole time. She didn't mind either way, she supposed, since she was in confession mode. Seemed to be a lot of that going around today. For something that was supposed to be cathartic, it really was unpleasant. "I could probably find other people to talk to. I could go, I could smile, I could put on a nice little fake front, and get myself new bffs to hang with. I don't want to. I just...I think about it, and I freeze up. I don't want to play anymore. I don't know what I want to do, but it's not that. Not here. Not anymore. I spend time with you because you're honest. And you don't want to kill me yet, that's a bonus. But there..." she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, trying to find words, when her vocabulary seemed to be out of reach for a moment. It did that sometimes, just...escaped her. Words she knew, but couldn't grasp.

He didn't look at her - not until she stopped speaking, then he turned to her. "What?" he asked her. "But... what?"

She looked frustrated. "Words are failing me." she said. "...there..." she tried to get the thread back, to talk around it. "There are other people but they aren't anyone I want to know, they don't want to know me either, and most of them will have heard about me before they ever meet me and will hate me on principal. And you have one defining feature that I appreciate, beyond the honesty. You're intelligent. You're intelligent, and I can't predict everything you'll do. Most people I can roll like that." she said, snapping her fingers. "And even if I wasn't inclined to, I could see how to do it. You though...you're harder to work out. And you can hold up your end of the conversation."

"So you've written off the entire town then?" Brett summarised. "Present company excepted. On the basis that I can't stand you and I'm not a sheep? Little unfair to those strangers out there, isn't it?" he asked her.

"People are unintelligent sheep. You weren't--" she started, then sighed. "You weren't there. Where everything was so fucked. Where an entire household full of people hated me, and about ninety percent of them had no reason to. I was the house scapegoat, even for the things I didn't actually do. And I don't know if you've noticed, but there's more people here from my experiment than any other. I'm really not looking to find myself in that position ever again." she said. And that was flat truth. "What about you?" she asked. Not in a rounding, accusatory tone, but more a curious one. "There's got to be other people from your experiment. You didn't make a single friend that you would rather go with you than me? I'm positive there are better choices for you than the town's vindictive, braindamaged bitch."

He looked back up at the sky again. "I was down there for nine months. People left to go and explore the tunnels. Sometimes they were really sure they'd find a way out. None of them pressed me to go with them," he pointed out. "And then others didn't want to go at all - they'd prefer to sit where they were and wait it out."

She listened, watching his profile. "So you don't want to be with anyone who left you behind, and you wouldn't want to go with a coward who wouldn't even try?" she asked, seeing if she had that lined up right. She could see it though. See him passing some sort of judgement, and standing by that.

"Something like that," he agreed. It wasn't quite it, but she was close enough. No, he decided, she wasn't. "It's not about cowardice. Some people aren't equipped for it. Some people should stay behind - not wander off and get themselves hurt, or killed. And some people just aren't mentally or physically up for it. People look at other people, they see other people and they make judgements. I'm burden enough already without being lumbered with someone who can't even pull their own weight, so I wouldn't want to be with one of them. And the people who are able to actually go out there and do that? They wouldn't want to be lumbered with someone like me. And no, I didn't make a single friend," he added, purposefully missing off the 'who you would rather go with' part there.

She listened. "I can follow that logic." she decided. Then she was silent for a few more long moments, just thinking things over. "Well, I would need you." she said. "You say you wouldn't want to hold me back, but that wouldn't be the case. You have knowledge I don't. And even if I do go to the library and study up, I don't have the experience. You do. So, regardless of the fact that it'll be more difficult to go together, it would still actually be more practical." she said reasonably. Then she paused another moment before she asked him something else. "Did no one try, or did you not let anyone get that close?"

"You know, you're a persistent bitch," Brett answered, his only answer, though there was no real venom in the name. It was purely an answer to her question.

"I'm aware." Eris said, actually smiling at him for that. "It's why were here, laying out under a cold sky, outside of a town neither one of us wants to get back to." Since it wasn't as if he would have hunted her down. "But I'm a smart, persistent bitch. And I remembered blankets and alcohol." Which reminded her. She looked for the bottle and grabbed it, taking a long few swallows. "I'm not nearly drunk enough yet."

"I'm too drunk," he told her, letting her take the bottle. "I haven't been drunk in fucking years," he added, closing his eyes again. He could feel the beginning of a headache starting in the back of his brain and knew it was because he'd been out for too long today. He had sunglasses... somewhere, but he wasn't sure where as he started to pat the light jacket down, looking for them and hoping they hadn't dropped out in the car.

She drank some more, then capped it and hugged it, practically curling up with it as she moved a tiny bit closer to him. It might have been unintentional. "Why?" she asked. "Personal preference, morals, or something else?" she asked.

He opened his eyes and looked across at her, assessingly. He didn't drink much because he didn't want to put himself in that vulnerable position. Didn't want people to be able to laugh at him. Didn't want to lower himself any further than he'd already fallen. He'd used to drink a lot - work hard, play hard, that was all part and parcel of his life. And if he fell down drunk in the street, or did stupid things, then it was funny, wasn't it? People laughed, no harm done. But, he wasn't that guy anymore. And people were already laughing. Maybe not to his face - no, they saved their pity for his face. But behind his back, they were laughing. he refused to give them any more reason to do that. Brett looked at her long and hard as he gave up the search for his shades, and then he just looked away, choosing not to answer.

She just looked back at him while he looked at her, not saying anything, waiting to see if he'd give her that or not. Then he didn't, and looked away. "What were you looking for?" she asked. And it was possible she was asking both about what he'd been patting around for, and what he'd been looking for when he searched her face. She took another drink, then curled back up again, waiting for that trainwreck moment where she went from 0 to Drunk in .2 seconds. Hard alcohol did that to her sometimes. Like it all saved itself up then blindsided her.

"Sunglasses," he said, choosing his answer option. "The light - it hurts when I've been out in it for too long. Comes of being a mole," he told her, not adding that the pains he experienced on a daily basis were caused in part by that too. That those were just the icing on the cake of the ones he already lived through because of his disability, a chronic result of the back injury he'd suffered. He was just a laundry list of physical fucking problems.

She propped herself up, then tugged the blanket on the windshield under her down a little to peer down into the car. She searched a bit, then wordlessly scooted over to the side of the car, and she dropped down, opening the car door to crawl in, and grab the sunglasses that had fallen onto the floor. She grabbed a bag of m&m's and licorice, then walked back over, holding the shades out to him.

Brett had sat up as she got down, and he twisted to watch her, first as she walked around the car, then looking back through the windscreen as she ducked inside. And then he watched her come back again. "I didn't ask," he pointed out, though he took the shades anyhow and put them on, gratefully - both because they cut off the sun, but also because they cut his eyes off from her - she couldn't read him as easily. Nobody could - you could tell a lot from someone by looking into their eyes.

"No, you didn't." Eris agreed, crawling back onto the car with him, and laying on her stomach, bit of blanket bunched up to prop her up comfortably. "But I am positive that your good humor goes south quickly if you've got a migraine." she said, ever so lightly teasing him, touch of a smirk on her lips. "And you've been being quite sweet, considering. I figured I'd do myself a favor."

He arched an eyebrow. "Sweet? And without even the slightest hint of sarcasm. It's been a long time," he said - going with 'light' for once. After all, they were out in the middle of nowhere, with nowhere left to go. They were planning on how they were going to find their way out of middle of nowhere Russia and the experiments they thought they'd escaped seemed to be looming once more. He didn't have the energy today to be a miserable bastard. And anyway, there didn't seem much point with her now, did there?

She smiled and took another pull from the bottle, before she opened up the m&ms. "With the way you usually talk to me, today you've been downright cuddly." she told him. "Want some?" she asked, offering him the candy. She drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly, recentering herself. "Also, I'm feeling very accommodating today. I'm not usually this nice." she added on the end.

He looked at the bag, then took a handful of the candy, throwing them en masse into his mouth and chewing them down before speaking. "No, you're not," he observed, though he wasn't passing judgement on that with the comment - it was purely an observation, much like hers had been. "Strange day," he added.

She nodded, settling herself again, head on the blanket in the circle of her arms. "Very." she agreed. She kept her eyes on him, thinking for a few long moments, just letting her mind drift a little. Not far, it was still spinning on a lot of things. "So...are we really doing this?" she asked. "Preparing. Trying again some time." she clarified for him, even if she figured he could pick out her meaning without it, it never hurt.

He sat himself up, feeling the hood move under his weight a little as he shifted, moving himself back with a little effort. He looked down the road, seeing a little further from the elevated position than he'd been able to see in his chair - not that there was actually anything more to see, not really. Just the same all the way to the horizon. "There's no point going on now. We'd only have to get back without a car. If we're going to leave, then we'll need to be prepared. But, yeah. We're doing this," he told her, looking across at her. "As long as we can find a way past... everything." By which he meant him and his problems. "Then we're going."

She nodded. "Alright." she said. She still thought that he'd talk to Lina, and his plans were abruptly going to change, but she didn't say anything about it. If that's what happened, that's what happened. As much as she didn't want to be alone, and she was being honest about preferring to try and fail with him than sit in her shitty little house and rot, she wasn't going to beg. Or become some clingy, spineless little thing. It wasn't her style. Wasn't starting to be now. "So, what's my part?" she asked him. Since he was the one with the plan. She figured she'd ask, so she could do whatever. She was figuring on supply gathering.

"I'll go see the mechanic, talk to her - can you go see what you can find at the library? that place has steps," he said, with a wry, humourless style. 'Disabled access' wasn't high on the list of important things in the minds of 1950s town designers. "Then maybe we can get together, plan what we're going to need. Something."

Eris took another pull from the bottle, feeling pretty buzzy by now. Everything was taking on a different sort of edge. "I can do that." she agreed. "Want me to break into the copshop and see about a gun or two, too?" she asked. She might do that anyhow. It seemed the thing to do. "I figure we should get them before everyone else does. It'll be Lord of the Flies in no time."

"breaking and entering would be good - you said you knew how to shoot, can I take it that that means you know what you're looking for?" he asked her, though he did think that if she didn't, she wouldn't have offered - she didn't seem entirely stupid, after all. Better safe than sorry though.

"That would mean I know what I'm looking for." Eris confirmed for him, eating a few more m&ms. "Right now what I want is a handgun with at least one box of bullets, and a shotgun with the same. If I can get more, I will. And I think it's probably better if we keep them at your house." she added, thinking everything through, as she absently offered him the candy again.

"Not a problem - do you know where I live?" he asked her. It was a small town, there was a directory, more than likely she did. "You get them, just bring them round - though I'm not often in. I'm sure you've got initiative enough to deal with that," he added, taking some more M&Ms.

"I know where you live." She said. She'd been there this morning. She just didn't mention that. It wasn't essential information. "Not that I figure this will be an issue for you at all, but...if we're going to be getting supplies, and preparing to leave, and you're going to be asking for help from some people--not sure if there's anything else we especially need help with for our first run--we should probably not be seen together." she told him. "Because there are people who will not help you if they think you're helping me."

Brett raised an eyebrow and took another couple of M&Ms. "Loathed and vilified. Probably a good job I universally dislike everyone then," he said, throwing the candy toward the back of his mouth, casually.

"Probably." Eris said. "But I'm serious. If we don't want to fuck this over before we even start--disassociate yourself with everything about me. Which means if we are meeting up to solidify plans and everything, we're going to have to be very ninja about it." she said with a sigh. She took another drink. "Which thankfully I'm good at, so that shouldn't be too difficult, but..." she shook her head. "It's that or find yourself a new partner in crime, love." she added, rolling onto her back, so she could look up at him without cricking her neck.

"Don't worry, darling - I wasn't going to suddenly become your best friend and go gushing to everyone about you. On the slim chance that I don't alienate everyone I speak to just on the basis of being my normal, charming self? I'm not going to be saying shit to anyone. Especially not about the idea of packing up and getting the hell out of dodge. Whether you being involved would fuck things up or not, I'm not up for a caravan train. You know what I was saying earlier about judgements, about the people who wouldn't and the people who would, just not with me? yeah, that - I'm not looking for others to turn around with a 'hey, that sounds like a great idea, can I come?'" he told her. Just because he was talking to her, didn't mean he'd suddenly ceased to be entirely antisocial.

She smiled at that, a little amused expression. "Good." she said. She was also thinking about things again. About how Lina and her little band of merry assholes would probably be his best bet. How they might try and sign themselves up for the jaunt. She wondered if his abrasive as fuck personality would actually put Lina off enough. After all she was a bitch herself, and hung out with the likes of Kales--the man who had told her he'd paralyze her if she came up to his floor anymore. Then her smile widened a touch. "Sure you're not really just looking for some fluffy little orphans to take along with?" she asked. "little wide eyed rabbits from the experiments, just looking for a savior?" she teased. She'd definitely hit 'drunk'.

His demeanour marked and abruptly cooled at that. "I'm done saving people," he told her, tightly, not appreciating what he saw as a specific jibe from her. He grabbed the bottle from her and threw his head back as he downed several mouthfuls in quick succession.

It took her a second before she caught what happened there. She sighed, and looked at the sky again. She could apologize, but...why, really. So she did something else. "I didn't mean to step on a nerve." she said. It wasn't an apology, it was just truth. She also almost pointed out he could probably take better shots at her if he knew more about her, but he didn't want to know about her. Hell. He still didn't know her name, and she wasn't telling him until he asked. And even then, she wasn't sure what she'd tell him. Right now, it might serve him best to not register any recognition of her name.

He eyed her sideways, unsure whether he trusted that or not, but he handed the bottle back, if she wanted it. "No, I'm not looking to play hero. Would be fucking shitty at it if I were, all things considered. I'm just looking to save my own neck - the rest of them can go fuck themselves," he said, harshly, retreating into attack as a form of defence.

Eris did take the bottle, and downed some more. They were going to need a new one at this rate, it was nearly killed. She listened to that, and wondered how true that was. If he'd really lost all of the mentality of someone who built his life around going and rescuing people. She was terribly interested to find out. That was for certain. But she had a feeling that it'd be a long time coming before she did. "So does that mean when we're in the woods, and the bear is closing in, you're going to kneecap me so it'll go for the easier meal?" she asked with a light little smile. His harshness didn't phase her, after all.

He gave her a Look. "We're in the woods? Don't think so, somehow. Dirt track I might have some luck with, woods? We'd better have a few foot of snow, a sled and found us some huskies, or I ain't going nowhere. Ever tried to get a wheelchair over exposed roots? It's not happening. So, no woods, no bear, no kneecapping," he told her. Which wasn't at all an answer to her question.

"Eventually we're going to get bored of trying the same route." she said. "We'll have to mix it up a little. Get creative. Keep it fresh." she continued with a shrug. "And I still say a sled with a horse. Dogs would be nice, but a horse would probably be more available. So, a sled, with you in it, and woods. With bears." she said. "And I'll just take your non-answer as a yes, then." she added, laughing just a little, as if something about that was funny.

He took the bottle back off her. "I'd shoot the damn bear," he told her, grumpily, as though she'd pulled that answer out of him as he took another swig.

She laughed again, this time a more full, genuine sound, not so repressed. "Good to know." she told him. "Here I thought that you were already anticipating being among those who want me dead by then." she said, amused. "But thank you. That's sweet. I'll remember that." she promised. She had something rising up in the back of her mind, but didn't want to bring it up yet. It would just set him off more, and she figured she had a lot of time to do that in when she wasn't having a moment of levity herself.

He cast her another glance, wondering at whether she was laughing at him or not, feeling increasingly uncomfortable because of it. And the alcohol didn't help - he was finding it hard to think straight. But at least it seemed to be keeping the headache at bay, that was something.

She kept smiling. Then she reached over to nudge his side. "Lighten up a little, sweetie." she said good naturedly, and she propped her head on her arm, looking at the sky again. "We've just agreed to willingly be stuck together for what is possibly going to be a series of failed missions trying to escape Big Brother What's Lost His Shit." she assessed. "Clearly, we're both insane, but there must be something we're deciding to stick around for."

"I'm not a 'light' person," he told her, though it wasn't necessarily as grumpy as he had been a moment ago. "And you're only with me because I don't want to kill you, I know things about survival and you don't want to be alone," he pointed out. And he was with her because he couldn't do it alone and because organising this hadn't required him in any way to ask her if he could go with her. It allowed him to keep the last shred of his dignity.

"I meant, we both must have some reason in the back of our minds to go on living, and to try and get the fuck out from under the scientist's thumb." she clarified. "Don't worry, baby." she said. "I won't start mistaking you doing this with me for anything but necessity either." she promised. "But still. Smiling now and then probably won't hurt you." she added thoughtfully. Then she paused. "You know? I am definitely drunk."

"Generally that's the accepted end point when you've drunk an entire bottle of whiskey," Brett pointed out, knowing he was long-since drunk himself. He looked at her, lowering his head slightly to peer at her over his glasses. "And unlike some, I don't do fake smiles, so if you get one, you've earned it. And you know it's real."

She looked up at him for a moment, smiling. "Yeah?" she nodded. "Yeah, I could see that." she agreed. "Good to know." she told him. Then she paused. "You've got really nice eyes." she put in there, since they were standing out to her at that moment, him looking over the tops of his sunglasses at her. It wasn't said like a come-on, because it wasn't. It was just something she noticed right at that moment.

It wasn't the first time in his life that he'd heard that, but it was the first time he'd heard it in a long time. Maybe a couple of nurses had tried it before he'd managed to alienate most of the staff at the hospital, but that was it. And, actually, it was a compliment he could take from her, since there was no way it could be remotely connected to his disability. "You're definitely drunk," he told her - and she got a small smile from him as he slipped the sunglasses back over his eyes.

Eris grinned, and looked back up at the sky. She'd gotten a smile. Sure, it was a small one, but it had been present, so she was going to take it. "Oh, I am. What I'm not is blind." she said, sounding terribly amused, in a pleasant, fuzzy-drunk sort of manner. "And those are very nice blues." she said firmly.

"Well, then thank you - since you're so sure about it and all," he observed, relaxing back against the screen again, some more of his mood lifting slightly in response to hers.

"You're welcome." Eris said. She didn't continue watching him, or shift to do so, her eyes remained up on the sky. Maybe it was the alcohol mixing with her medication, but she felt a bit better. It was kind of a roundabout thing, but she felt much less depressed than earlier. ...yeah it was probably the drugs and alcohol combo. But she'd take it. She let her mind wander a little from there. touching on a lot of little things but it was having trouble settling on any one.

Brett let the conversation lapse then, thinking over things that they'd have to do, torn between wanting to prepare and knowing that it wouldn't work and the depression that went with listing all the reasons why. But - it was something. Even if it never happened, it was something to cling to. He'd take that. They both would.