You Never Said Goodbye

[Super Weegee]

((Matthew Hunt continued from The Past Has Passed Away))

Today's announcements left Matthew in a bitter mood as he and Faith aimlessly wandered towards their next destination. Mike was murdered by Diego, Drew got shot by Declyn, Erika has the biggest bodycount out of everyone, and Marco fucking decapitated Colin with a chainsaw. While he wasn't going to shed any tears over Colin, that's still half of his original group gone in one day. If his memory's right, that just leaves Connor, Amber, and himself.

The guy who ditched them because Matthew wasn't willing to blindly follow him and the girl with multiple personality disorder. Just fucking great.

Faith, however, didn't seem to pay the speakers any attention, for reasons that he didn't bother to ask her. Was she trying to stop that feeling of fearfully anticipating that someone she cared for might be brutally killed? He had a feeling that was the case, but he could be wrong. Some of the names clearly jumped out at her, though. She looked pissed when it was revealed that Nathan died and had a worried look on her face when the speakers revealed that Claudeson killed Bret.

Matthew can sympathize with her there, at least partially. The twins were practically inseparable. Wyatt's gonna hunt Claude down and be even more of an asshole, if he doesn't decide to hulk out at everyone around him. All the more reason to avoid him as much as possible.

If she had anything on her mind, she didn't say anything when they decided to check out the lighthouse. While the hot sun thankfully dried up most of his hoodie, it unfortunately smells a bit like shit now, which only added on to his irritation. That was his favorite one, too...

Deciding that they've been on the trail for long enough, Matthew turned around and stepped onto the grassy field, shading his eyes with his hand to squint into the distance where the tower is supposedly at.

"Can't see that far from here," he said, putting his hand down and looking at Faith, "but we should be able to reach it in a few minutes."

Continuing to walk, he looked over to his right and saw some trees somewhat closer to where they are, pointing towards them.

"There's some trees over there if you want to take a break in the shade."

[Frozen Smoke]

((Faith Clementine Marshal-Mackenzie continued from The Past Has Passed Away))

Faith had crunched her way through the last half a packet of crackers she had as the announcements passed over the island like a smug, self-satisfied stormcloud, the noise of the dry food sounding loud enough in her ears to drown most of it out. A few names trickled through the white noise of chewing, but she tried her best to ignore them, even as Nathan and Bret's names came out from Danya's mouth.

The announcements were probably lies. Even if they weren't, they were designed to get under their skin, every day. To serve as a reminder that everyone else was losing themselves to the game. Peer pressure, in a way, to try and get you to think that it was okay. It was sick, and cruel, and trying not to pay attention to it was all the protest they were allowed.

Maybe, somewhere on the island, there'd be something that could make enough noise to properly drown it out. But Matthew seemed intent to listen, to know, as if it was going to help him. As if they wouldn't have to treat everyone as a threat, regardless of who they were. Julien had proven that.

Faith brought a bottle up to her lips, the plastic crunching underneath her fingers as she washed down her token meal, the water tasting metallic from the purification tablets that had been swirled around in it. She tried not to think about how they hadn't had a chance to boil it, like they were supposed to, and all the parasites that could easily survive the meagre chemical soup that she was drinking. It wasn't like worms were likely to be the worst medical problem she ended up on the receiving end of anyway, given enough time.

She nodded silently as Matthew let her know they were nearly at their arbitrary destination, the Lighthouse. It didn't have much to offer them, and there was no way they'd have left the light operational enough to signal for help, the terrorists seemed smarter than that. But it would, at least, put a roof over their heads for the night. If they could block off the stairs, maybe it would even offer them a little bit of safety, for all that was worth.

Faith shoved the bottle back in her back, and tugged her sweat slicked hair away from where it had stuck to the side of her face, pulling it back over her shoulders. Her ponytail had disintegrated days ago, and tying it back up had felt like a waste of energy, even as her hair got in her way. Part of her just wished she could cut it away, take the scissors they had in their first aid kits, and just hack at it until it wasn't a problem any more. But, as she'd stared at her reflection in the water last night, that had felt far too much like giving up.

"Sure." she agreed passively, eyeing the trail that stretched out before them, noting the many scuff marks in the dirt.

"There might be other people inside the Lighthouse already. Probably best we do rest up, in case... Well..."

Faith left the obvious unsaid.

[Super Weegee]

"Yeah." Matthew said, scratching at an itch at his upper arm, "It isn't like we can do much with what we have."

That felt like an overstatement. Pretty much the only time that the 'weapons', if one can call the scissors that, were going to be useful was if nobody they encounter have guns. If they did and were intent on robbing or killing them, they would be fucked beyond all measure. What would they do in that case, wave the scissors and scythe threateningly?

Yeah, they would totally be intimidated by it.

Hell, that might not work even if they didn't have any firearms. How many people have killed at least one person by this point? How many came across the corpses of their friends before it was announced? How many people witnessed someone getting killed before their eyes? How many times did some of their classmates delay the inevitable and escape being murdered? It was all practically a blur to him at this point.

As they continued to walk towards the trees, Matthew grabbed his bag from his side and unzipped it, digging around inside of it with his other hand. His stomach growled at him, as if it was paying attention to what he was doing, as he pulled out a tin of crackers that Faith was munching on earlier. Now he's, what, halfway through on his food supplies? Three-fourths through it? He needed to count them up again. While he was doing an admittedly decent job at rationing them out, it was only going to last so long, and it still felt like he was starving himself.

It might be having an effect on his body too, but he wasn't too sure on that. Looking down at himself, he pulled the waist band of his pants as far away from him as he could, and letting it go once he couldn't stretch it any further. For some reason, it didn't feel as tight as it should be.

"Am I losing weight?" He wondered aloud mostly to himself as they got closer towards their spot. He took his mind off of that train of thought, figuring that it was probably nothing, and opened up the top of the tin, the stale crackers ready to be eaten. As he grabbed one of them and chewed on it, he looked back up and spotted someone lying down next to one of the trees. It was still too far away to tell who it was, but it was still clearly a person.

Whether it was a corpse or someone just sleeping was a different question altogether.

Swallowing his food, he stopped walking and extended his arm to the side, attempting to keep Faith from getting any closer.

"Wait," he said in a hushed voice, looking at her, "someone's laying down over there. I can't tell if they're dead or not, though. Should we get closer?"

[Frozen Smoke]

That probably would have been the sort of statement that would have made Faith laugh, had she heard it from across the hall back at school, and probably follow up with a quick comment to whoever she was with. You didn't lose weight over a week, and what you did would just be water weight, because being at a healthy weight took time and effort and dedication. It was the kind of thing she'd been proud of, the kind of thing she'd looked down on others for not being capable of doing.

Now it just made her feel awkward, and look away from Matthew as they continued to walk, not wanting to catch his eye and feel like she had to say something in response as they walked a few more paces. Because, really, what was she going to say? She couldn't risk making a joke out of it, and saying yes meant he'd be worried about starving, and saying no was her calling him fat. It was the verbal equivalent of a mouse trap, anything she did to poke the cheese was going to risk sending her back to being alone again. And, for all Matthew's foibles, he was the only person who'd stuck around. The only person who'd managed to not get themselves killed.

Eventually, the awkward silence dissipated into regular silence, punctuated only by the sound of footsteps and the crunch of teeth on cracker. Then, it was broken again, by more hesitant whispered tones. Someone sleeping. Alone, apparently. Though if they were sleeping in the open, they had to have friends somewhere, watching over them.

Faith's head tilted to the side for a moment to look at Matthew, before turning away, following his line of sight and squinting through the early morning glare. It took a few moments, but eventually she picked out the same things he had; a pair of boot clad feet poking above the grassline, blue and white of clothing just about being visible against the brown and green of everything else. But there was more to it, as she looked harder. The position looked awkward, like whoever it was had slid down from a sitting position, rather than having decided to lie down and sleep. She could swear she saw a tinge of red, too.

It felt like a weight was beginning to press against her chest as she realised what she was looking at.

"Whoever that is, I don't think they're sleeping, bud." she commented, her own voice lowered to something just a hair above a whisper.

"I think they're dead."

Faith looked away from the distant body, and back to Matthew, her face bearing a grim expression. She paused for a small moment, giving him time to process it, and leaving whoever it was a moment of respect.

"Do..."

Faith trailed off immediately as she tried to speak again. There was no way she could make the suggestion that they go over and search the corpse for anything that was left behind seem anything approaching decent, let alone respectful. Why was that the first thing she thought of now, when she saw someone who had died; I wonder if they have anything I can use?. Not; Oh god, that's terrible!, or even Oh no, who is it?

Layla's bag felt heavy on her shoulders all of a sudden, as she looked away from both Matthew and the corpse.

[Super Weegee]

It took Matthew only a few moments to come to the same conclusion as Faith did. Another corpse.

"Yeah, that position doesn't look natural." he said, putting the tin of crackers away in his bag for later. She tried to say something, but he either didn't catch it or she cut herself off. Probably the former, considering that he was looking away from her, not giving her his complete attention. A number of options was going through his head, mainly concerning about whether they should investigate the corpse further or not.

On one hand, whoever killed them could still be around and it could result in either a repeat of the situation back at the rice paddies or the killer could be using the corpse as bait, robbing or killing anybody who got too close. Granted, it sounded a bit paranoid in his mind, but it's still a possibility. On the other hand, they can't just ignore everything around them and keep hoping that any problem that they come across can be solved without violence. While they were getting by just okay, considering the whole 'they're still alive and uninjured' thing, that's just going to bite them in the ass eventually.

After moments of silence, he made his decision. Matthew sighed and looked over at Faith again.

"Let's get closer. I know this is going to sound dickish, but they could have something useful on them." It felt wrong to just dig around the pockets of a dead person, but it was minor compared to what the others must have done by this point. Besides, it's not exactly like dead people can complain about having their stuff stolen. Unless ghosts are real, that is.

Looking at the body again, he began to walk towards the body. As he was doing so, he put his hand on the scissors in his pocket, which was cleaned for the most part except for some of the blood stains that he couldn't get out. He could never be too careful with this, considering the circumstances.

As he got closer towards the body, he could see more identifying details. The muscles meant that it was clearly a guy and he looks like to have gotten a very short buzz cut recently.

A familiar buzz cut.

Matthew began to walk slightly faster now, the identity of the corpse becoming more and more clear to him. No, it couldn't be! He refused to believe it. A major threat like him couldn't just get murdered in that short timeframe, right? Soon enough, he was right next to the corpse and one look at the bloody face was all the evidence he needed.

Wyatt Carter. The twins were no more.

Turning his head to look at Faith again, he spoke again.

"Looks like we don't need to worry about him anymore..."

[Frozen Smoke]

Faith nodded in silent agreement with the suggestion, a small smile gracing her lips as Matthew said exactly what she was thinking, glad for a moment to be at the very least in equally disrespectful company. It was normal. Probably. She shifted the strap of Layla's duffel bag across to her other shoulder, and the two of them began to walk towards the sparse treeline where the body lay.

That smile began to fade, slowly, as the details of the corpse began to become clear. The tan boots. The familiar belt. Just how big the body was. She felt an unnatural heat prickle across her neck and face, eyes widening as she took in more and more details as they approaching in a silence that was only broken by the sound of their breathing, her own halting and shallow and Matthew's the same wheezing calm it had always been.

Faith wanted it not to be real. She tried to push every thought of it out of her mind as she approached, keeping pace with Matthew, even as her heart began to race with all the adrenaline in the world. Her eyes burnt as they got closer and closer, unable to look away, unwilling to even blink. Looking for some sign that it wasn't who she thought it might be, but as they stood beside the body, she couldn't help but realise what it was. She exhaled reflexively, like she'd been punched in the gut, a pitiful sound escaping her wordlessly as they both stood there. Looking at it.

Looking at him.

It wasn't her first time seeing a body, even though that had been bad enough, but this was something different. She had known Regina, sure, passed her in the hallway a few times - chatted a few times even. But they hadn't been friends. Faith knew how Wyatt looked, how he had looked, before part of his face and skull had been torn away by whoever had killed him. It was so close to someone she knew, but twisted, turned into a grotesque mockery of the person she'd once known. Desecrated.

And she couldn't look away.

The worst part of it all was that nothing had been said on that announcement in the morning. She would have noticed it, even through her attempts to block it out, she was sure of that. It had happened in the past few hours, deep into last night at most. It was so unfair, they had been so close to finding one another, and someone had torn that away. A name she didn't even know in order to properly curse. It was a joke. A cruel, cruel joke. A joke she kept staring at, noticing new, awful things. The wound in his abdomen. Whoever had done this hadn't even had the courtesy to make it quick, they'd probably taunted him before finishing the job, the kind of person who hated him because hating him was just what people in GHHS did because it was easier than getting to know him.

"Looks like we don't need to worry about him anymore..."

The voice cut in, reminding her of the presence next to her for a fraction of a second, before the words that had been spoken registered. She looked over and found him looking right at her, with his blue eyes squinting at her from the middle of his chubby face. The words echoed. Not literally, but in her head, as her breathing began to speed up.

Faith's left hand shot out, and grabbed his arm halfway between his shoulder and elbow, fingers locking a vice-like grip through the flab. She pushed, levering him around to face her as she pivoted herself, and stepped forwards to bring herself just inches from him as her face contorted into a mess of roiling emotion.

"What the FUCK do you mean by 'Worry about him', huh?!" she spat angrily, mocking the careless tone he'd used as she narrowed her eyes, glaring right back into his - even as she had to look up to do so.

[Super Weegee]

Before Matthew could begin to search the body for anything decent, he silently gasped as Faith spun him around and got in his face, clearly pissed off. He instinctively tried to pull his arm from her grip for a second before stopping, her question registering in his mind about what he meant by not having to worry about Wyatt.

Admittedly, it was callous of him to say that, which must've been what shocked her. Still, the answer was rather obvious. The Carters are, or rather were, the biggest cunts back home, after all.

"Wyatt was just a bomb waiting to go off." He said, looking right back at her, "Him and Bret trusted each other more than anybody else. If you think he's an asshole then, then the news of his 'oh-so-dearly beloved' brother's passing would have no doubt turned him into a gigantic one."

Really, how would it not? Hell, how could anybody be in a good mood if somebody they knew literally their whole life gets murdered? If Wyatt managed to stay alive long enough for the two of them to run into each other, or if he somehow came back from the dead, Matthew would be more surprised if he wasn't pissed off. Still, he didn't exactly feel sympathetic for the brute. Wyatt was just going to-

-Matthew's face formed one of realization as it finally hit him why Faith's actually pissed off with him. Sure, he didn't have any sympathy, but she sure did. The only conclusion that he could come up in his mind that made sense was that she was friends with the twins, or at least just Wyatt.

"Look, I don't know what he told you," he said, "or if he told you anything at all, but me and dumbass jock didn't exactly get along."

[Frozen Smoke]

Faith's mouth opened a little, as if she was going to say something, and hung there for a few seconds as her mind whirred. It took a few seconds for everything to really process, her mouth feeling unusually dry, as "Bomb", "Asshole, and "Dumbass" stuck out like red hot needle pricks into her thoughts. She shook her head slightly from side to side without really thinking about it, as the disbelief turned into disgust.

She closed her mouth, and swallowed, looking away from his face for a moment as she tried her best to judge his height. It wasn't like there was anything she could say, anything she wanted to say in response to that. She gripped the scythe's wooden handle so hard her knuckles grew white, and she felt the grain of the wood bite into her skin.

No, the time for talking, the time for witty retorts to draw even - That had passed.

Faith pulled down on the arm she was holding for leverage, and brought her right knee up as hard as she could, grunting with exertion as she aimed it directly at Matthew's crotch.

[Melusine]

"...and so I killed him."

((Angie continued from her past.))

That was the full story of her life. From the moment she woke up until she killed her brother, after and before were only memories and feelings that stopped mattering to her. She had a goal. To kill Quinn and whoever had shot Tanisha, and probably anyone else who came in the way of her goals.

Shauna wasn't like her. She was quite different. If Angie had to describe her new partner-in-not-crime-but-totally-murder, she would call her meek. She sounded like the type of girl who would read fanfictions at the back of the class and then get picked on by the teacher. It wasn't to say that Angie didn't like her presence since it felt just normal.

She spoke a lot. The person she was with didn't speak a lot. She talked about herself. Her partner just nodded and hummed. It felt familiar and it felt good. It made her happy to know there was semblance of normality on this island even after killing her brother.

"Yeah." She turned her head toward her ally, "what about you? What's your trau-"

There it was. The telltale sign of human life.

The usual FUCK before a fist was sent into someone's face. It was comforting to know they were still doing what they normally did despite the circumstances.

"Wanna' check that out?"

[Super Weegee]

"It's not just me either," Matthew said, "a good chunk of-"

His sentence stopped dead in the water when Faith kneed him in his most private of areas. Most of the air in his lungs were practically sucked out of him as he immediately moved his hands to his crotch, grunting in pain as he collapsed to his knees. It took everything in him to barely stop himself from falling on his back.

For more than a couple seconds - or was it longer than that? - he couldn't even so much as think clearly, his brain focusing more on dulling the excruciating pain. Holy fuck, this hurts!

Is...Is this what it's like to regret my entire existence?

Finally managing to open his eyes, he looked up at Faith. The mere fact that she did this caused that feeling to rise up in him again, and the pain only made it faster.

It also reminded him of a certain rumor about Wyatt beating someone just for talking shit.

"Figures..." Matthew said, "...You and Wyatt are more alike than I thought."

Recalling a certain person from yesterday, he spoke again, feeling spiteful.

"You really do have the emotional intelligence of a wet brick."

[Namira]

((Shauna continued from I'm telling these tears, go and fall away, fall away))

Shauna didn't know that it counted as quiet conviction if all she was doing was quietly telling herself to have conviction.

That more than most was why she let Angie take charge of the conversation, and given the events that had happened to her so far, Shauna felt that the outlet was needed. The island was already stretching Shauna to breaking point, she couldn't begin to fathom having to kill her own sibling on top of that. She didn't say much in reply because well, like, how on earth was she supposed to respond, as Angie talked her way through her tale? The tone made clear from the beginning, even if Shauna hadn't heard the announcement, that Ramsey was already dead. There was no happy ending.

There was no happy ending.

Shauna started up to say something in reply, something to the effect of either not wanting to talk about it or keeping a brief summary. Cheap, a cop-out, when Angie had shared everything, but Shauna had torn herself up over and over about Danny's death over this past week and she didn't have the appetite to do it again. She didn't want to talk about being the only person left alive from when she'd woken up strung up on a wall.

A scuffle up ahead was a welcome distraction. Wait, what the heck was she saying? No it wasn't!

Oh shoot, that was Matthew and Faith. What'd happened there?

"Hey! You guys! Come on, what're you doing?"

Shoot. Was that really her saying that?

[Frozen Smoke]

Faith glared down in disgust at Matthew as he knelt there, somehow finding the words she couldn't to continue digging his own grave, not having the decency to at least writhe on the ground in satisfying agony. She'd let go of his arm as he'd fallen, and now it joined the other, clenching tightly onto the wooden pole in her hands.

"Shut up." she spat at him, her voice burning with venom.

The weight of the blade flexed the pole down behind her as she angled the butt of it towards him, reminding her of exactly what it was, exactly what it could do as she almost instinctively prepared to jab at him with the mud stained hunk of wood. It made her pause for a moment, taking a shaky breath as she tried to wrest control over everything that was happening, recognising the hate and defiance in Matthew's eyes as he looked at her.

The scythe lowered, blunt end now pointing at the small patch of dirt that separated them, prepared to bat away at his hands if they came towards her.

Before she could even think about how pointless an apology was, another voice interrupted. A familliar one, carried across the wind, and her head turned to look at the direction it had come from. Sure enough, there was the lanky silhouette of Shauna, accompanied by another girl she didn't recognise. She still didn't know much about her, and she'd been telling the truth about not killing anyone when they'd last met, but that didn't mean she wasn't willing to. She had a gun, too.

Fuck.

The realisation of how bad this looked hit Faith instantly. They were right by a dead body. They were fighting. She'd just raised her Scythe like the Grim fucking Reaper. He was on the ground. What was she going to say? How was she going to explain this quickly enough that she wouldn't get shot?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Panic was written clearly on her face as she looked back down at Matthew again. He'd do it. She knew he'd do it. Tell them to kill her. They wouldn't ask any questions. He hated her as much as he'd hated Wyatt. He'd probably have shot him himself if he could have. She delivered a parting blow, slinging her left foot forwards, aiming at his leg. To stop him from following her. To make the others need to help him.

Then, as fast as she could, Faith ran.

((Faith Clementine Marshal-Mackenzie continued in Hell and You))

[Melusine]

"Hey-"

What the fuck was going on?

Well, the island was going on, duh. Angie hated the fact she didn't have her gun anymore. It made her feel safe and she abandoned it in the heat of the moment without ever getting it back. It made her feel sick to know that someone could just pop her from a distance without mean to defend herself apart from one colorful grenade.

"Stop! Get back here!"

But she didn't.

Instead, Faith just ran away and there was nothing to do about it other than to shout because Shauna had the gun. Angie shook her head at that thought. What was she thinking? Would she shoot her if she had her gun back?

Yeah.

She would have totally shot Faith.

Right there. A hole in her chest or her face or her leg. She totally would have. Angie didn't feel bad about that. She felt a bit hungry, if anything.

"You okay?" Her voice had went quiet. The boy was on the floor. He wasn't bleeding or anything so she assumed if he wasn't going to die. "I mean, other than the 'on-the-floor' part."

[Super Weegee]

Despite how much it hurts, Matthew couldn't stop himself from smirking. What the hell could she do to make his pain worse? It's not like she's the type to go through with it.

"Or what?" he said, eyeing the wooden end of the scythe pointing at him for a second.

A voice that didn't belong to Faith chimed in just as he was about to open his mouth again. Turning his head, he saw a girl that he couldn't place a name on for the life of him, and another familiar face that was with her.

"Shauna?" he asked, beginning to stand up. That proved to be a mistake as Faith's foot launched at his left leg, hitting it's mark. He let out a pained grunt as his hands instinctively went to cover the spot where she hit him. Compared to her first cheap shot, the pain is like stubbing his toe a bit on a wall. Still hurts like a bitch, but can be ignored for the most part.

"Stop! Get back here!"

Wait, what?

Looking back over to where Faith is, or rather was, she was already a fair distance away from them. Even if he wanted to chase her, he couldn't catch up to her. Especially not in his current state, although the pain was starting to get more manageable.

That's just fucking great. Can't take the heat, so she's running away like a pussy. Where was that when Julien threatened her?

He turned his head towards the Hispanic black-haired stranger, who simply asked him if he's alright.

"Well, I might not be able to have children again after she kneed me in the dick," he bitterly said to her, standing back up to his feet, "so that's fun."

Looking over at Shauna and thinking back to the second day, he spoke again, his tone more unsure if anything.

"And...uh....I'm sorry again for accusing you of killing Regina and Caroline." He eyed the unknown girl next to her. "Who's your friend?"

[Namira]

She called out, and rather than slowing things down and calming the situation, Faith took one look and fled like a startled Shauna.

Not certain of how to deal with that, Shauna stopped and just kind of watched her go. Angie yelled out after Faith, but it made no difference, she was gone. And well, what were they going to do, hunt her down and wag their fingers a bunch for being mean to Matthew? She'd hit him, it looked like, but she hadn't gone out of her way to kill him. That was the difference between Faith being a jerk and being dangerous. Pick your battles, literally and figuratively.

Conflicting feelings ran through Shauna seeing them both, not least as Faith bailed. The other pair had been together for a while since the last time they'd met, and here Shauna was watching the partnership dissolve. Would those two ever even see each other again?

Shauna tried to push the morbid thought away, but it didn't move very far.

She trotted on over to Matthew alongside Angie, who was just as blunt as ever. Good...? good to see that the kick in the nuts hadn't dampened him down. How he'd acted towards her was--well it felt like a distant memory now. Throwing shade at her paled in comparison to Erika butchering Tanisha in front of her.

"It's all right," she said. "This is Angie."

Wait. The announcement. Angie had...

Great. Nice going, Shauna.