Willy Willy Willy, can't you see? Sometimes your words just hypnotize me.

[Sh4dE]

Someone came up from behind the couch and it was not the person Mick expected. That was not Willy. It was a beaten up version of Willy, with a big ugly scar in his face. Well, at least he apparently still had all of his fingers, as he carried a shotgun himself in his hands. The gun was pointed in his direction, but if he wanted to shoot him, he already would have done it.

In hindsight, Mick should have realised this was the case, as Leo did look like he was shot.

"I have been attacked too," he said as he raised his hand to show the bandages on it. Mick eyes William, or rather the zombie version of him.

"What happened to your face?"

Mick sounded tired.

[Cactus]

So this was good - for the time being anyway, it didn't appear like Mick was going to open up on him with his own shotgun. For now, there would be no shotgun battle; no shotguns at dawn, as the old saying went. Willy Apgar felt a sense of relief in that fact, though he didn't lower his weapon. He allowed his grip to relax slightly, but still felt as though he were in a state of hyper-awareness. After all, Kate was still laying on the couch, barely able to move, and his assumed responsibility of his diminutive classmate wasn't something that he was taking lightly.

Wincing slightly as he noticed that Mick was missing a full set of fingers, he was reminded of the still-stinging gash across his own face. Shrugging slightly, he kept his expression neutral. "Leonard decided that after a hearty conversation that he wanted to trade his metal ruler for my shotgun." His lips curled into a frown. "I told him that I wasn't interested, and he forced the issue. You saw the result."

For the time being, he decided that he'd keep the girl's existence quiet. Who knew what Mick would do if he realized that he were 'outnumbered'? As he'd already well found out, people were liable to do some really insane things when in the Program. His neutral expression fell as he once again found his eyes looking to Mick's bloody hand.

"What about you? You, uh," he paused, unsure of the right way to address the injury, "it looks like you're missing a few things over there..."

On the couch, Kate kept as still as she possibly could, but her still-swimming mind was racing. The question that she'd pondered about what had happened in the house before she'd woken up had apparently been answered - Willy had been attacked by Leonard... whomever that was. She barely knew a quarter of the student body of National Summit Academy, and so the names were just that - names of people she'd never meet. William had been kind enough, but it alarmed her a little to think that he'd killed someone and hadn't deemed it important enough information to tell her about it.

She had half a mind to confront him about that, though she didn't know what she'd say, or how she'd even say it. Confrontation wasn't Kate's strong suit, and especially at this particular junction, it would be a conversation better had later on, once the immediate threat had passed. There was also the fact that she was no innocent herself, though she still continued to have no memory of killing Larry.

It was the one stroke of luck that Kate afforded herself on this very darkest of days.

[Sh4dE]

As he heard William justifying murdering Leonard, Mick thought about whether killing someone to protect your weapon was the smartest move and whether such thing could be smartly avoided until he realised that he himself could have avoided killing Scotty. It was not like Mick killed in self-defense. Well, he did, but he could've avoided having a kill under his name by simply beating Scotty up and leaving him alone to be killed by someone else. It was not smart of Mick to have pulled the trigger, but in the situation he was full of adrenaline and worried more about not getting killed than not appearing on the announcements. Foolish, in hindsight. Mick did not want anymore kills under his name.

Mick carefully listened to William's story. Did Willy tell the truth or did he murder Leonard to eliminate the competition? Who knew. William asked back about his injury.

"Yeah. After I woke up, Scotty Ward started a fight with me."

Mick paused for a second.

"I won. Turned his own gun against him as he threatened me." He showed his hands. "But lost some fingers."

He hoped his story would establish peace and would not lead into a fight or more questions. The boys staring at each other were both killers. Willy was in the same glass house as Mick. Mick hoped Willy would not throw a stone.

Mick yawned, covering his mouth with his bandaged hand. Mick raised his eyebrows.

"It's getting late and I need to sleep. You got a place in here?"

Could Mick trust him? Would Willy trust him?

[Cactus]

William barely blinked in surprise as Mick confirmed what he already knew - he'd gunned down Scotty Ward. That it had cost Mick a little more than his own dispatch of Leo was easily apparent, and hammered home the fact that this truly was a life-or-death situation. He grimaced as Mick wiggled what remained of his hand around. Willy had lost his wind when the shotgun had kicked back, and aside from the mental anguish and guilt, he was wholly intact, if not a little cut up.

Mick was missing digits.

He also appeared to have been substantially weakened, and Willy couldn't help but feel like the boy was treating the departure of some of his limbs with a surprising amount of levity. Of course, shock did funny things to people, and he knew full well how well the packs had been stocked - painkillers were available to help one fight through the pain, or at least get used to it. It wasn't as though they all had a whole lot of time left.

Mick seemed to let his guard down, and formally requested a place to sleep. He hadn't done anything overly aggressive, and by the look of that hand, odds were that the boy was solely trying to find a place to hunker down and recover from the trauma that had befallen him. On the other hand... Leonard had claimed to just be passing through, and now was fertilizer.

Grimacing, he relaxed and let the barrel of the shotgun slowly lower to the floor. There was every possibility that he was making a fatal error, but the truth was that Willy himself was starting to feel tired, and having a third person to keep watch might not be such a bad thing. He gestured to the stairs with his chin.

"There are a few bedrooms upstairs. I looked through 'em, nobody's here. They haven't been touched in years. Have it at." He paused, and glanced down at Kate, who was staring a hole through him on the sofa. She wasn't going to be very happy.

"We'll probably stay down here."

As expected, Kate's expression went from one of fear to one of anger. Why would William have outed her like that? Any surprise against a potential attack was gone, and she shook her head at him, still shooting him a heavy glare.

William said nothing to Kate, but gestured to the couch and spoke to Mick.

"Kate Sanderson is here too. I found her this morning, messed up pretty good. She's cool if you are."

He sure hoped he wasn't lying.

[Sh4dE]

We. Was Willy? No, Willy was with someone. Apparently Kate Sanderson was with him - whoever that was. He heard the name recently, but he forgot the context.

This seemed suspicious. William was not alone.

"I am cool. And thank you for offering a bed to me. That is very generous."

Mick attempted to smile friendly at William, though it was apparent that Mick was sleepy.

Too generous. Why would William offer Mick a bed and sleep on some uncomfortable couch in the last days of their life? That did not sound right. It has to be a trap.

Man, Mick could trust William to not murder him. Could he?

"Uh. Anyone else?"

Mick pointed at the couch to indicate whether it was only the two of them or if there were more hiding in this house.

[Cactus]

Having been unceremoniously exposed and any potential surprise against an attack gone, Kate weakly sighed, and with no other recourse, stuck her hand up and waved it in the direction that Willy was looking. She had no idea what or who Mick Sexsmith even was, and so she was trusting Willy not to make the wrong decision that would get them both killed.

Get them both killed. Huh. Kate furrowed her brow (and damn did that hurt to do), her arm falling back down beside her. The scimitar was still half-wedged within the couch, easily accessible if she needed to make a fillet out of any other murderous classmates. It was amazing that in such a short time, she'd gone from being ready to hurl herself off a cliff to being incredibly concerned with any potential decisions that would result in her demise.

My, how things could change in the blink of an eye - which was yet another bodily function that hurt to do. While the painkillers that William had been slowly giving her over her short foray back into consciousness had been doing the trick in keeping the agony at bay, but certain actions still pained her. She hadn't even tried to stand or get up off the couch, but she couldn't imagine that there was a spot on her face that wasn't black and blue.

She hoped against all hope that he would take William's invitation and actually use the opportunity to sleep.

As far as William was concerned, he still wasn't entirely on board with Mick's amiable disposition, as something about it seemed a little put-on, but he was in such an uncertain state that if all Mick needed was a place to sleep, he wasn't one to stop him. If he was thinking of opening fire, well... that was a whole other thing, entirely.

"Nah, it's just the two of us." He absently scratched at the side of the shotgun, still half within his own head and assessing the trustworthiness of Mick.

"I'm pretty much wired, and someone needs to keep watch, so there's no point in sleeping now. There are a few bedrooms upstairs so like I said, take your pick. Just because we're in this stupid death game doesn't mean that we can't treat each other like humans, you know?"

William looked down at Kate, who hadn't said or done much outside of her wave, and he could see that the pain was beginning to set in a little bit more. It was probably in her best interests to get a bit more sleep if she could, and since the darkness had set in, odds were that there wouldn't be a tremendously large number of people creeping around in fear of bumping in to the wrong person.

"You feeling okay?" He directed this question at the injured girl, taking his focus momentarily away from Mick. He didn't trust him yet, but he had to extend an olive branch somewhere.

On the couch, Kate simply shrugged, and then winced, which hurt as well - each movement causing her more pain. "Ouch," was all she could muster.

"We should probably get you some more painkillers." William stood up and reached over for the bag beside him that contained the medicine.

[Sh4dE]

Mick looked in the face of William to see if there was a hint of him lying, any hint to a trick, to a trap. He seemed to be honest and Katie's presence did not indicate a trap, still, Mick had to be prepared to be attacked or killed once he went upstairs.

He hoped the two of them were indeed friendly. They invited him to go upstairs to let him sleep, indirectly offered him protection. He'll take that. If Mick could lock the door in the room to avoid them killing him in his sleep, everything would be perfect.

But before Mick could go upstairs, Willy directed his attention to Katie, who seemed to be wounded. Against his will to just go upstairs and sleep, Mick showed some polite compassion.

"She hurt too?"

[Cactus]

So Mick seemed to be on board with the 'let's not kill each other right this second' plan, and William couldn't help but be relieved. He wasn't planning to drop his guard entirely, but if Mick's plan was to get some rest and that was all, Willy was all for it. As he unzipped the pack that he'd retrieved and started to fish the painkillers out of it, Mick inquired as to Kate's status. It was apparent just by looking at her that Kate had been through a war, but as he hesitated, framing the hesitation as a yawn, he thought maybe in this instance as far as information went - less was more.

"She's a little banged-up, yeah. Just trying to get her on the mend before we figure out our next move." He only offered a base assessment to Mick. He wasn't sure exactly how mobile Kate was going to be if push came to shove, and that was something he'd rather keep to himself.

Finding the small pill-bottle within the pack, he reached over and picked up one of the bottles of water off the floor, where it had landed as he'd upended the table he'd used for a makeshift barrier when Mick had broken in. He handed it to the obviously pained girl on the couch, and she eagerly gobbled it down, washing the small tablet away and downing almost half of the bottle before she stopped herself.

"We'll let you be. If anything happens, I'll knock twice on your door." Willy paused, giving Mick a smirk. "Maybe don't unload on me with that gun if you hear steps, eh? Wait for the knock."

For her own part, Kate still remained silent. She lay there, waiting for the painkillers to kick in or for Mick to go upstairs. She felt a sense of dread, one that was magnified by the pain all over her body. Something about Mick felt very, very off, and she vehemently disagreed with William's decision to let him stay... but for now, she would keep that to herself as she waited for the subtle ease of her pain.

At some point, she would have to articulate that to Willy.

As if she even had the faintest idea how to start.

[Sh4dE]

"Gotcha," he tiredly said and yawned. Looked like they could take care of themselves. No reason to bother them, there was nothing Mick could help them in. Mick moved towards the door, still eyeing Willy and the couch, preparing if they decided to shoot him from the back.

As he moved upstairs however, oddly, he was not expecting hostility anymore. He did not expect someone to hide upstairs attempting to murder him. He also did not expect Willy to come from behind and shoot him. He trusted Willy. It might have been due to his friendliness. It was weird.

The corridor was empty and he entered the bedroom. Also empty.

Mick stared at the bed and was attracted by it. It was not actually the bed that he craved, but sleep. He would not have minded sleeping on the floor, but that bed looked sure comfortable.

But there was one thing left to do before collapsing. Just because Mick trusts William doesn't mean he trusts William. Mick closed the door and used his last energy to move the wardrobe against the door.

Better safe than getting killed in your sleep. He dropped the bag and gun beside his bed and dropped himself into the bed.

Mick closed his eyes and quickly dozed off.

[Cactus]

It didn't take a whole lot of time for Kate's bad feeling to manifest itself into something else entirely. While she was certain that some of the feeling originated from the fact that she was battered and beaten, in a contest in which the only way out was certain death, she had tried to put that aside to reconcile the remainder of her feelings. What she managed to put together was that Mick was bad news. Normal people trying to mind their own business didn't show up with missing fingers. While sure, she'd gotten beaten within an inch of her life, and she hadn't been trying to do anything sinister, William's arrival had been the only reason she still drew breath.

Mick didn't seem to have the benefit of a similar guardian angel, which probably meant that he shared more similarities with a demon than of an angel. Which meant that she wanted absolutely no part of him. As Mick had made his way up the stairs and disappeared from view, she braced herself, waiting for the crash and bang of a door slamming open that she expected would come at any moment.

It didn't.

The whole thing felt somewhat anticlimactic. She'd managed to convince herself that Mick was some evil super-villain who would try and murder them as soon as they let their guard down. They had, and still... nothing. Of course, given the situation that they were in, Kate knew that was no guarantee of safety. No - the smartest course of action now was to get the hell out of there, before Mick regained the energy enough to make a move like the one she envisioned. But how to get Willy on board with that idea?

There was only one logical course of action.

On the other side of the room, William was fighting off his own fatigue at the same time he was running through scenarios within his mind. He didn't entirely trust Mick upstairs, but he knew that it didn't matter how murderous someone might have been: everyone here was still a human being, and humans needed their sleep. Once he was well-rested, on the other hand...

The thought had barely crossed through his head when his jaw dropped and his eyes went agape. Before him stood an unsteady, battered, holding-herself-up-against-a-wall form that could only be one person. It had been hours since they'd arrived in the house, but William admittedly wasn't sure that Kate would manage to get up for quite some time. So that now she stood in front of him was a bit of a shock. She shambled towards him like something out of an old horror movie, and as she got closer to him, her legs gave out, causing William to reach forward and grab the lithe girl.

"Kate, w-what are you doing?"

Her eyes flashed with a ferocity that he hadn't seen from her before, and in the back of his mind, his incredulity that she'd survived the encounter with Larry dulled a bit. "We have to go." She hissed the words at him with a forcefulness that betrayed her battered state.

Confusion spread itself upon William's face as he adjusted his grip to pull her to a more comfortable position - close to standing but still completely propped up by William. She gave him at least a small assist by putting her hands on his shoulders. To an outsider, it would look as though they were within an intimate embrace.

"Why? What's happened?"

Her eye contact was pointed, and it didn't break for a second. "It's Mick. I don't trust him. He's planning something, I know it."

William's brow furrowed as he considered Kate's words. The missing fingers had spread a sense of dread throughout his body, though he'd assumed it was just the violence hangover of the past day finally catching up with him. Perhaps Kate had felt it too. Still, he had to give him the benefit of the doubt, right?

"I mean, he looked pretty tired. Do you really think that he's-"

She cut him off, surprising him once more. "Wouldn't you? All he needs to do is wait for us to fall asleep or let our guard down. Didn't you see the way that he looked at your gun?"

His face fell, his mouth pressed into a straight line amidst a neutral expression. He had seen that, and it reminded him of the way that Leonard had looked at it before he'd made his move. Shit. She had a point.

"Fine. So what do we do about it?"

She looked at him in mild disbelief. "We leave! We can't stay here anymore."

William sighed, and broke eye contact, taking a look around the room. They'd already encountered two fellow students here, and for all the precautions that he'd tried to take when he was safeguarding the house, the fact that Leonard's body lay outside sent the wrong message as it was. Maybe running wasn't the worst idea in the world. If Mick truly was sleeping and friendly, he'd probably be annoyed at them leaving, but if he wasn't...

"Okay, fine. But what about you, can you walk?"

He loosened his grip on Kate, and she tried a step, before almost collapsing to the ground. She'd used up her energy just getting up to make her point, and William's reflexes were the only thing that kept her from tumbling down. Looking up at him, she feebly shook her head, causing him to sigh.

"Okay, well... I'll carry you. I'm sorry - this might not be the most comfortable way to travel."

Leaning over, William grabbed Kate's wrist and gently picked her up in a fireman's carry. Thankfully for him, the girl was extraordinarily light, and so he didn't expend a whole lot of energy carrying her. Would he be able to keep this up all day? Probably not, but as long as he could manage to make it to somewhere a little bit more secure than this, it would have to do. In the carry, Kate winced as her injured ribs came into contact with William's firm shoulder, but she said nothing. She would grin and bear the pain, as there wasn't much else he could do, short of leaving her there, and she knew that William had made his choice. He wouldn't be leaving her anywhere. Like it or not, they were a team.

Kate just hoped that she would heal up enough to contribute to that team.

With a final stop to collect their packs from the couch and collect both of their weapons, the duo stepped out of the relative safety of the house, leaving Mick upstairs and asleep, not knowing what kind of horrors were awaiting them in the future.

((William Apgar and Kate Sanderson continued elsewhere))

[Sh4dE]

As Mick opened his eyes to stare at the wall, he elevated his head from the pillow and slowly raised his hand to swipe away the saliva from his mouth angle that has already dripped on the pillow he had slept on. The goody-good-good feeling he had from sleeping after having been extremely tired came to an halt as he felt the unusual feeling of the bandage on his hand rubbing against his face.

And the unusual feeling of missing fingers.

The beautiful feeling of sleeping well stopped and his awoken mind felt the pain rushing through his body. Mick felt sick and wanted to wretch and all he could think of was the word 'painkiller'. He moves his limbs to get out of the bed and blindly grabbed into the bag to search for his medkit and the painkillers within them. After finding them, he swallowed them without water.

Mick glared at the entrance of the room and the wardrobe still was there, blocking the way out of the room. He grabbed the shotgun and slowly pushed the wardrobe away. He stepped through the corridor, down the stairs and saw the empty couch barricade.

"Morning."

He said with a bored voice, expecting a reply. There came none. Maybe they have not heard him.

"Morning!"

Even with the louder and more enthusiastic voice, there was no reply.

"Mor..."

Ah, screw it. They were gone. Whatever. Mick was glad enough they did not kill him in his sleep. It's a pity for the potential alliance Mick could've formed, but he would not complain. After checking the house and the garden of them really not hiding somewhere, Mick went upstairs to pack his things and go.

((Mick Sexsmith continued elsewhere))