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.

Pulling the door open to answer it, Hannah was a little surprised when no one answered her greeting. Anubis wasn't on alert, so she wasn't scared, but to make sure it wasn't someone standing there staring at her, she stepped forward to wave around with the makeshift cane she sometimes used in the house. No one there, but as she moved forward, her foot hit something on the stoop. Bending down to retrieve it, she felt the distinct lines of a box and, on top, Braille. Messy Braille, as if someone didn't really know how to do it, but more or less readable. "I got nothing to give?" she read aloud to herself, puzzling, refusing to give into the kernel of fear that had just taken root. She sat down right in her doorway, pulling the box open. Inside was what felt like... a mask? "Oh, hell no," she said, fingers dragging lightly over it. Her first instinct was just to break it and be done with it, but first... well, the old ones had each had a word written on the inside. She'd never learned what hers had been back in the house; she couldn't help but be sort of morbidly curious. And she wanted to know if Jason or Emma or either of his little pals had gotten one, too.

Getting her coat and grabbing the mask and Anubis' harness, Hannah left to go find Jason - last she'd heard, he was chilling at Dave's, so that's where she decided to head first. If not there, likely the church. Box and mask tucked under one arm, she marched down the street with a steady litany of "fuck fuck fuck fuck shit ass fuck" repeating under her breath.

Brett had gotten his ass the hell out of that church as early as he could, whilst still pulling the 'nice guy' act. He had the gun still tucked down his side as he headed home, feeling more upbeat than before. He gotten what he wanted and, okay, he'd had to suck it up and pretend that he gave a fuck about anyone else, but it had paid off - and reinforced his justifications for not giving a damn about anyone else. As he'd expected, he'd been written off by the rest of them. A cripple in a wheelchair. Fuckers. They were all the same. Well fuck them, he was getting out of here.

He turned the corner and saw the blind girl heading towards him and he groaned, loud enough that she could hear him, he realised - anyway, there wasn't a change he'd be able to get out of her way, so it was either that or risk her walking into him, guide mutt or not. "In a hurry, sunshine?" he called to her.

"Piss off, Wheels," Hannah said, breaking her chain of curse words for the volley. "I'm so not in the mood to play today." Her plan had been just to march around him and keep heading for Dave's house in search of Jason, but... well, he was here, presumably he could read, and she kind of wanted to know how fucked up this game was about to get. She stood there for a second arguing in her head, then grimaced and popped the lid on the box to pull out the mask as she moved a little closer towards the sound of his voice. "Just... can you tell me if there's something written on here?" she asked, holding the inside of the mask out towards him - more or less. In his general direction, at least.

Brett looked at the mask, but made no move to actually take it. "Happy Halloween?" he suggested, sarcastically. "I mean, I know it's October and all, but I didn't really see you as the 'dress up' type, Twinkle," he continued, amused, actually, by the fact that she was pissed already and it wasn't his fault and taking the opportunity to use her to offload some of his frustrations at having to play the nice guy for a few hours.

"Fuck you," Hannah snapped with more than a little hint of old bitterness, though some part of her was glad here was someone that she didn't have to care about pissing off. She hated not being able to figure the mask out herself - a simple thing for most people, just to be able to look down and see if something was written there. "Sorry if it's not the full-on leather hood you must be used to, I'm just not into the gimp scene. I was just hoping that your eyes might work even if your legs don't, seeing as how it's not fucking hard just to say whether or not there's a fucking word on the fucking mask and what the fuck it is."

"No, I could see how being forced to shut the fuck up would rub you the wrong way," Brett said, almost sweetly. He glanced at the mask, then took it, turning it over and over in his hands until he found the lettering on the inside. "Yeah, there's something written there," he told her, tapping the mask against her hand for her to take back, purposefully not saying what it said, though the inscrption had surprised him. It seemed rather, well, random.

Hannah took the mask back, faintly surprised at the unexpected courtesy of him tapping her hand with it instead of just holding it out and letting her fumble around at empty air until she'd found it. Then again, maybe he just didn't know it'd been something she'd appreciate. That was probably it. "Well?" she said, after waiting a beat, expecting him to follow up with what it had been. She couldn't help the faint trepidation that was building; either it was some fuck being a copycat or the scientists were well and truly back to fucking with them. She figured she'd probably know based on what word it was.

"You've really got your panties in a twist about this, haven't you?" Brett said, tilting his head as he looked at her, his expression a lot more interested than his tone. He wondered what the hell this was about that had the blind girl so convinced there was a word there she couldn't see, and then the fact that there was a word there she couldn't see.

"Like you give a damn about the state of my panties," Hannah shot back, scowling. "I get that this is probably how you get your rocks off these days, but I've got shit to do today, so if you could maybe try not being a huge asshole right now, that'd be awesome."

"Oh, I'm sorry - I realise that you're so entirely used to me jumping at your every command in the hope of maybe, just maybe being able to make the place a better world for you..." Brett drawled, then paused. "Oh, wait, no - that's not me. Sorry, Princess - if you have things to do - don't let me stop you...."

"You might want to review that again, Sparky, because I'm pretty sure I was the one asking for help and you were the one being a dick," Hannah said, bitterness crossing her expression again before it was pushed away. "I might think you're an asshole, but at least I'd help you get your chair out of the fucking mud if it was stuck or some shit," she muttered to herself, juggling box, mask, and Anubis' harness as she tried to get the mask back in the box and the box shut.

"Yeah, laughing about it all the fucking time," Brett pointed out, harshly. "Look whatever - Soylent Green, okay?" It's people. Everyone knew that, though what the fuck it was doing written on the back of a mask, he had no idea.

The box hit the ground with a faint clatter, dropping from Hannah's suddenly shaking hands. She'd gone pale, fighting memories that threatened to overwhelm her - it happened a lot these days, the smallest thing could give her a nightmare or a flashback, and Brett was the last person she wanted it to happen in front of. "Are you serious or are you just fucking with me?" she managed, voice hoarse. But really, how could he be fucking with her? It was just too particular to be some random word he could've chosen - he'd've probably picked something like 'fuck off' or 'you're a bitch' or some other insult instead.

Brett eyed her, seeing a honest reaction there that took the sarcasm right out of him. "No, Princess, I'm serious," he said, his voice for once actually at it's normal baritone timbre, rich and clear, untainted by sarcasm or annoyance.

"Shit," Hannah breathed, kneeling and fumbling around for the box's lid in an effort to combat the spike of fear and near panic that had her near tears, and damned if she was going to cry in front of him. She didn't know what it meant - was it just the scientists being assholes and reminding her of what had happened, or was it more? Was he back in town? Whatever it meant, it also meant telling Jason was out - not when he'd just had something good happen, she couldn't bring him down with this. Like hell was she going to tell Lina, bitch already knew too much. And with those options gone, it left her with no idea what to do next - except hide the evidence and keep her mouth shut. It was a measure of how thrown she was that she hadn't said a thing about the lack of snark in his response.

"By your left foot," Brett told her, watching her fumble, since he couldn't just pick it up himself. "...Just so you don't have to crawl around like an idiot," he added, putting that asshole tone back in place as he caught that it had dropped for a moment. Truth was, he didn't like people looking helpless like that. And anyway, she was quite obviously bothered right now. A mask and a movie name - they didn't add up to this reaction.

Reaching back, Hannah found the box lid and slammed it into place, palms firmly pressed to the top while she tried to breathe. She could feel her lungs working, it just didn't feel like she was getting much air. "...Well at least I can," she managed after a very long, distracted moment while his comment had processed amidst everything else crowding her brain.

Brett stared at her then, the walls slamming back up in place at that comment. "Fuck you," he said, flipping off his breaks and starting to turn. He'd find another way home - and to think for a moment there he'd actually felt sorry for her, felt concerned. Well she could fuck off, just like the rest of them. Just like the whole fucking world.

The moment he said that, Hannah realized what she'd said and immediately felt like shit. With people like them, there were lines that didn't get crossed, and she knew that - she'd been on the receiving end plenty of times. She didn't much like him, but neither did she really feel that antagonistic. She'd meant to warn him - if he was here, Brett would make an easy target. "Brett, wait," she said, reaching out to catch at the arm of his chair and missing. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. Just... get a gun," she told him, speaking fast because she doubted he was actually going to wait and because she was scared - terrified - and couldn't breathe and didn't have anyone else to tell. "And if you see a guy..." Her laugh was bitter, held the edge of hysteria held back by sheer will. "Well, fuck if I know what he looks like. Medium height, in shape, middle-aged with a Spanish accent... just... shoot first and ask questions later. Don't get him get close." She'd made that mistake - in more ways than one - already.

Brett carried on going, listening but not listening to what she was saying. Fuck her - as if he needed her fucking advice anyhow. He was way ahead of her anyway. But he heard the hysteria, he heard that laugh - but he was too pissed right now, her barb cloaking everything else, he couldn't process the rest. He would, later, but not now. Right now his world was just one big 'fuck you'.

Hannah hadn't expected him to stop, hadn't expected an answer. She just hoped he'd heard - and listened - and hoped more than anything that her warning would be for nothing. She wasn't sure how she managed to get to her feet, box tucked under one arm while the other had a death grip on Anubis' harness, but she did, and once there the only thing left was to abandon her plans to find Jason and go home.