Strategy adhering to a classic by Tom Petty

[The Honeless Beard]

((Dougie Sharpe, Philosophy...))

Sleep came easier than anticipated, and was coupled with a worry upon waking that he felt genuinely rested. Despite the nippy air, the stress about the situation, the weight of the headset in his bag - he felt fresh, alert.

Hungry.

Dougie pushed down the feeling and straightened up in the tree branch - the place where he and Lily had taken shelter the night before. She had required a boost up to the taller trees, while he'd found a few thick enough and low enough to support his weight through the night. They'd talked about minor things - useless things - until he must've passed out.

He stretched abused muscles, rolling his big shoulders to relieve the tension of the night, then reached for his pack - slung across the branch where his head rested - and fished out the hello kitty bat.

He dropped to the ground quietly, bat in tow, and stared up at the tree, seeing Lily's form in the top branches, smiling slightly to himself at the sight. He allowed himself a minute to look before wandering away from the tree with a stumble and a leg-shake to relieve himself, careful to remain out of sight of Lily while not going too far away.

The sound of urine hitting wood was almost too normal, too relieving, to be felt in a place like this.

[Spindarene]

((Lily Ashburg continued from Philosophy built upon songs by Queen))

The first thing Lily noticed when she woke up was that she was sore. Legs, arms, back, head, everything hurt. Spending the night in a tree hadn't helped. Groggily, she rolled over and looked at where Dougie was sleeping. He wasn't there.

She sat up quickly, panic coursing through her, trying to ignore the worst-case senario playing out in her head. His bag was still there, but the bat was gone. Her first thought was that she'd slept through a fight, but she knew that was stupid. She'd slept deeply, but not deep enough to miss something like that. She looked around the base of the tree. There was no blood or any sign of a struggle. She relaxed, leaning back against the trunk of the tree. He'd probably just left to go to the bathroom or something. He'd be back.

Wide awake now, she took in the view as she redid her ponytail. As she finished tying her hair, she saw Dougie emerging from behind a tree.

“Morning,” she said, flashing him a smile before awkwardly climbing out of her branch. This was the absolute last time she was ever sleeping in a tree. Grabbing her bag, she said “Be right back,” and went off to find her own clump of bushes.

After relieving herself and washing her hands with bottled water, she dug through her bag and extracted the remainder of the clothes, putting on the black track pants and red t-shirt with the Coca-Cola logo. The pants were tight and the shirt was loose, but at least they were clean. After rinsing her mouth out with water, she tugged her sweater on and made her way back to their tree.

She started to ask “So, where did you want--” but the rest of her sentence was drowned out by a cheery voice from her collar. The second announcements were starting.

[The Honeless Beard]

He froze midstep when a familiar name - a name with three letters - floated from his collar to his ears, searching around his brain with something to connect with, something to latch onto that wasn't immediately followed by a ribbing or a 'just kidding'. He was aware, dimly, that his fist was clenched and his jaw was tight - so tight that the muscle jumped and quivered with the strain of grinding his teeth together.

It wasn't real. Couldn't be real. The girl he knew, the girl he'd been... whatever, with, wouldn't do that. There was no way that she succumbed.

Jewel again. People he didn't know. People he tuned out.

And the three letters came up, floated, stuck this time. Pia Malone, murderer. Two time murderer.

In his head, he brought the bat up, swung it hard into the nearest, frost coated tree. In his head, he felt the hard, loud smack reverberate through his body, the bat splintering, tree raining ice and bark as he stumbled backwards, feeling rough, feeling heated, feeling as though this was all useless and a waste of fucking time and just wanting to hit something to let the hopeless and helpless feeling out of his chest and limbs. He raged, roared, screamed, hit the tree, swore and cursed and genuinely freaked out.

In his head.

Out here, in the real world, Dougie consciously loosened his grip on the bat, finger by finger. He checked to see if his fly was zipped fully. It was.

He smoothed out a sweater sleeve, tugged on his beanie, and walked the rest of the way to Lily, a grimace set on his face, eyes caught between fear and anger.

"What?" he asked.

[Spindarene]

Lily jumped slightly at his rough voice, still in shock from what she'd just heard. It took a few seconds for her to remember that she'd been about to ask something.

“I, uh...nothing,” she mumbled. Eyes on the ground, she walked to the base of the tree and sat down, her back pressing against the rough bark. Her grip slackened on the bag and the strap fell off her shoulder. Staring at the ground, she could feel her eyes filling with tears.

Valerie was dead because of her. Lily had been leading the group, she'd lost track of her, and now Valerie was dead. Pushed down a flight of stairs.

For a fleeting moment, Lily wanted to laugh. It was such a pointless way to die. It reminded her of stories she'd heard on the news. The man who'd tried to do some DIY on the broken power line near his house because he wanted to watch TV. The frat boy who'd tried to shoot a firework off between his legs on the fourth of July. Stupid, pointless, idiotic deaths.

Except Valerie hadn't been stupid, pointless, or idiotic. She'd been a frightened teenage girl who had just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe there had been a fight. Maybe she had even been the aggressor. Whatever way it had started, it had ended Valerie's life.

Lily could feel the tears spilling over onto her cheeks. She sniffled and wiped them away. The movement felt unnatural, mechanical. How long did she have before her name turned up in the announcements? How long before someone shot her in the eye, threw her off a tower, or pushed her down some stairs? When was she going to make that one final mistake?

She continued to brush the tears away from her eyes until she realized that she'd stopped crying.

As she finished wiping off her face she glanced over at Dougie. He looked tense, angry, and maybe a little scared. Lily wished that she could think of something comforting to say to him.

She knew next to nothing about romance, and even less about Pia. The closest thing Lily had ever had to romantic relationship was when she'd dated a sophomore boy during her freshman year. They'd held hands, kissed a couple times, then mutually lost interest after two months. Since then, any romantic feelings involving Lily had been unrequited on one side or the other, and she'd generally preferred to stay away from the whole thing.

Dougie had been pretty private about his relationship with Pia. Lily had no idea what had happened between them, but she didn't think they'd parted on good terms. She'd been curious about it for a while, but had known better than to ask. She'd just let him know that she was there if he needed her, and left it at that. Now, however, she was almost wishing that she had asked. What were you supposed to say to someone who had just found out that his ex-girlfriend is a murderer?

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly. She knew that it was a stupid question, but couldn't think of anything else to say.

[The Honeless Beard]

How do you answer that question in a place like this, feeling like this? How do you even begin to respond to something like that after hearing...

"Nah," he settled on, starting to shove his hands into his pockets before realizing that he was still holding the bat. He settled on tapping it lightly against the toe of his boot as his left hand sunk deep into the relative warmth of his jeans, his gaze off in the distance, squinting at the brightness and barren nature of the orchard.

"Nah," he said again, because it was liberating to do so. Because it was truth, it was solid reasoning that he wasn't okay - that none of this was okay - and he could say that much without wishing he could say more.

"This is... so fucked up, Lily. I'm starting to - I don't feel safe here anymore."

[Spindarene]

“I don't think any of us were safe to begin with,” she said slowly, looking back at the ground. “But I think it definitely feels more real now than it did at the start. I don't know...”

She reached up and ran her hands through her hair. Her hair-tie fell out, but she didn't care. “I think what we really need to do is figure out what we're going to, you know, do with the time we've got left.”

[The Honeless Beard]

He nodded, looking above her head, scanning the orchard for signs of approach or change. When he found none, he shifted his gaze towards her, drank her in, nodded again. He wanted to do something. He wanted to have something. He wanted...

Dougie paused, hesitated, thought and re-thought and deliberated and doubted and stepped away before-

He moved in.

Reached forwards.

Took her hand.

Interlocked their fingers.

Brought the fingers to his chest.

Squeezed.

"Together, right?"

[Spindarene]

As Dougie took her hand, Lily tried to ignore the warning in her head; the little voice that reminded her that the more time they spent together, the closer they became, more pain would be waiting for them later on. She tried not to listen to it, tried to shove it to the back of her mind where she wouldn't have to think about it, not yet at least.

She smiled and squeezed his hand, her eyes on his face. “Yeah, together.”

((Dougie Sharpe and Lily Ashburg continued in A Matter of Taste))