Dinner and a Movie

[Laurels]

”Um...sure...”

Rodney opened the first aid kit and began to pull out everything he’d need to change Roz’s bandages again. It was freaky to think he was about to see a pantsless girl again, but he knew he had to ignore it. She was still susceptible to infection, and he had promised to take good care of her and help her. He needed to be the man he promised her he’d be.

He began to slowly unravel the bandage around her leg. He could see the bloodstained bandages peel away to reveal the injury from earlier. She’d probably have a scar after all of this if she was the survivor. Once the whole thing was unwrapped, Rodney looked at Roz.

”Um... let me know if it hurts...again...

Rodney pressed an alcohol wipe to her injury. He really hoped it didn’t hurt.

[Lilith]

She moaned softly. It wasn't sexual or erotic, it was painful. She tried to cover it softly by closing her mouth but it did the opposite effect of making an echo. She blushed, looking away. He pressed again and she took a sharp breath, feeling her bosom swell up, increasing her awkwardness.

She didn't know why, all of a sudden, she started to feel the pain like this. She assumed it was because the painkillers' effects were done and she could only feel the throbbing pain and Rod's callous yet caring hands handling her body. It wasn't only the pain, she was embarrassed.

She hated being a damsel in distress and she hated the sound she made, but she had to do what a girl had to do to survive, so she mentally bit her lips and continued playing the role she was assigned. She didn't want to stay silent, however. She had a request.

"I think I'm going to need more painkillers, can you just hold my leg and make sure it doesn't move while I grab my bag?"

[Cicadan]

He'd admit, he could have done without the moan.

He creaked to life with immense slowness. Roz had mentioned painkillers. Clay was too far from his own bag but he attempted an earnest shuffle towards it anyways, his shadow shifting positions in the background ambiance.

[Laurels]

Okay, it definitely hurt. Roz was clearly making an effort to not show it, but Rodney could see it still hurt to a degree. He tried to at least make sure he could clean the wound quickly so the pain would pass.

Roz asked Rodney to hold her leg steady as she reached for painkillers.

"Oh...sure..."

Rodney lifted Roz's leg and let her go to reach for her pills. He kept his gaze away from her as he did. He started to feel her leg shake in his hands for a bit. Her leg wasn't heavy -- there was no way he could say a girl was heavy in any way -- and keeping it steady wasn't the issue.

It came back to the fact that he was touching a pretty girl's bare skin. It was her leg, so it was soft and a bit slender. He could feel the heat coming off her leg radiating to his hands and fingers. Under his fingertips, he could feel a bit of bump from her shaved legs and the hair that was starting to grow back. They had to have been a few days, so her leg hair was probably growing back. It suddenly hit Rodney that that may have been just as weird as thinking about how heavy she could be, so he pushed the thought out like he was pushing a crate off a cliff.

He turned his head towards Clay and figured the other boy should be engaged.

"So...Clay...um...how are you?"

[Lilith]

She made it even more awkward. She knew that from the fact that Rod initiated with Clay, feeling his hands on her leg tightening. About her leg, was he caressing it or was she imagining it? She was sure but it felt like he rubbed his fingers against her growing hair but then stopped then continued again. That was weird.

Anyways, she popped the pills and grabbed her water bottle to shallow it down. She felt the pills rubbed against her trachea and landing in her stomach. She hated taking pills, they tasted weird and made her feel weird but in this situation it made her feel better.

She bit her lips, she really had nothing to say to Clay. He was her friends, but she didn't feel comfortable with him around her when she was so vulnerable. Being with someone that was almost a stranger made her feel better than with an old friend, she didn't understand why but she wanted him gone.

Then, she realized why. He was going to die so that Roz could live. She would have to kill him if he stayed with her for too long, so that's what it felt so weird. It was like being in the same room of an undead boy trying to interact with you.

The same could be said about Rod, but she didn't really know him. She disnt really care if he would die. If he were going to disappear right now, her only regret would be her leg slamming against the floor, opening her wounds. She still needed him around for a while though.

She yawned softly. How could she better in this situation. She didn't want to sleep, she wanted to stay awake until it was over. Closing her eyes would make her weak, she could



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[Cicadan]

Clay's efforts were wasted, anyways. He'd managed to get to his bag and start digging, but Roz already had her painkillers. Clay kept wasting energy searching anyways, as if he'd had some other purpose beyond the one already rendered irrelevant. As if anyone cared, natch.

Clay looked back at Rodney, at what he'd call something of a side angle where the focus stayed on Rodney's face and way off Roz's. Clay wasn't sure why that was important or necessary. But it was, and Roz's privacy was very stubbornly preserved with the correct amount of squinting so the heavy shadows in the shed blotted out all the corners, peripheries, edges.

"I'm fine..."

What else, what other words were there?

"Ignoring my knee, I mean." Not those words. Pain was just his mortality, Clay needed to be more humble than that. "But hey, I'm walking. Heh, you know." Very hollow attempt at a chuckle, that 'heh'. Teleprompted, choreographed. "... Hey. She's resting." Clay's voice became a bit quieter, not that he'd thought it was possible. What was quieter than a whisper, he wondered.

"Well, uh. How did you two meet?"

[Laurels]

Rodney watches as Roz slowly relaxed before turning back to Clay. Clay asked how they met.

"Um...we were at the church. Some guy attacked her...and she came in all bloody. I helped her out, um, and we decided to travel together. You know...to help each other out..."

Rodney noticed that Roz had fallen asleep. He looked at Clay.

"Maybe we should all rest... I can watch first...If you'd like...

[Lilith]

She was in a state of microsleep. Her head slowly tilted on his shoulder. It felt good, he felt warm and her body felt cold so the warmth coming from his body, it made Roz felt she was rubbing her face on a blanket. Her head was slipped for the shoulder to his neck then his chest. It made her wake up. It was like when she felt asleep in class while holding her head up with a hand.

She was tired, truly tired. Her body was telling her to sleep, especially due to her injury. It was as if there was a hormone in her brain that decided to shut down her body so she wouldn't injure herself more. She raised her head up, touching Rod's chin. She was scared she might have hurt him and whisper a soft sorry.

Her leg was still engulfed by pain but it was her body that was winning. The pain could only keep her awake for so long until her whole body just lolled down to recuperate. She couldn't blame her body for wanting that but Roz was still angry at it. She wanted to stay awake because sleeping made her vulnerable. She could be attacked and she couldn't defend herself.

That's why she had Rod. He would defend her and if someone would jump on them at night, they would kill him first, the bigger target. The sound of him struggling while a knife was going through his throat would probably wake Roz up. Giving her time to run aw- wait her leg- to shoot away the person.

Yeah, she should be fine if the attacker(s) have common sense. She heard what they were talking about and the only way she could reply to them was with a quiet yawn as she laid her head against the wall.

[Cicadan]

Happenstance had affected the two parties in this room very differently, surely. But Clay knew happenstance was just the agnostic word for plans of a higher power, a supposedly merciful one?

Happenstance had woken Roz, additionally.

Clay smiled a bit. Really just a bit, he supposed. Maybe even just to himself, as in, the other two wouldn't be able to see that he blessed their coming together with whatever his muted, sequestered, immortal spirit still counted for. He didn't want to pair them together nigh arbitrarily, that was of course presumption on his part. But he was attracted to them as a pair. It was a blanket to slip shoddily around a roughened and beaten soul.. this concept of two people, innocent, hurt, coming together to help one another. To rest together with chastity, wholly trusting in security found in each other's skin.

He still smiled, piecemeal. Slowly the expression slid off his face and returned to inscrutable neutrality.

He wished them the best, wished they'd survive. Prayed, they'd find something together, some whole piece of the puzzle He had handed onto them.

He, Clay, had no such comfortable illusions for himself. No paroxysms of faith.

"I'll take first watch. You two are both more hurt than me. Gotta sleep it off." He offered a thumbs up and it wobbled. "I need the time to think, anyways."

[Laurels]

Rodney watched as Roz laid her head against a wall. Clay offered the first watch, to which Rodney nodded.

“Okay...if you’re sure of that...”

Rodney adjusted himself against the same wall. It felt weird trying to sleep.  Maybe it was because he wasn’t sure he could sleep well at all, or maybe it was because he felt weird letting Clay stay up to watch. Rodney decided to address that.

“Um...let me know when you’re tired and I can switch...”

He let out a yawn and closed his eyes. It had been an exhausting day, with getting shot at, healing Roz, and finding that body. Somehow Rodney had survived it okay, but he wasn’t sure he’d have another day like this.

As he drifted off, his mind raced with images. He wasn’t able to dream, but his consciousness drifted around from snapshot to snapshot. He saw an image of Marcella in her ballgown from the gala scene in the novel he was working on before this happened. This was a common thing he did when going to sleep: visualize scenes from his work so he’d be better able to write them later.

He remembered the scene. Marcella would be leaning against a window in the dance hall.  She would lean against the frosted glass, her tears staining her cheeks, as she watched Georges dance with Angelica. Then, a hand would be placed on her shoulder, and she’d see Colin handing her a handkerchief.

The visual played out, but Rodney found it off. When Marcella went to take the handkerchief, in Colin’s place was his father. Standing there in full military regalia, instead of a handkerchief, Rodney’s father held a knife.

“You know what must be done.”

Rodney, now realizing he was in Marcella’s place, turned and saw the ballroom empty. In the middle of the room were Roz, Clay, and Bishop. Their bodies lurched and jerked around, their limbs limp by their sides. The orchestra had been replaced by the sound of America the Beautiful on orgel. As the trio moved about, he could see blood drip down from their limbs, slowly staining the marble floors.

Rodney approached the three, dropping the knife. He ran towards them, and reached out. The second he grabbed Roz’s arm, Clay and Bishop fell to the floor. Rodney looked at Roz and saw her eyes were glassy. She was already dead, and she too fell to the ground.

Rodney stared at the three, then felt something touch the back of his head, followed by a clicking sound.

“How disappointing.”

There was a bang, and then Rodney wasn’t sleeping anymore.

[Lilith]

Roz didn’t dream, or if she did it wasn’t anything worth remembering. She didn’t know if she really slept, she felt as if she could open her eyes at any moments, take her gun and put two bullets in Rod’s body. That thought scared her, it was only a matter of time before her name would end up the announcement after she shot that boy in the face, she’d have to kill Rod sooner or later. Maybe she would need to kill Clay too. She didn’t know, she didn’t want to kill them but surviving was way more attractive than being dead on live television for propaganda.

Her pillow shook. She wondered why it did that. She wasn’t at home where she put her cellphone under her pillow and it shook her awake everyday at 6:30 AM. The pillow jerked, a quick spasm shook through its body which also woke Rozenne up. Her eyes opened and she saw her arms wrapped around her pillow. She looked up and her body was awake too, breathing hastily. Her arms were wrapped around his body like snakes and as soon she noticed she started to pull away. She liked the heat from Rod but Roz didn’t remember putting her arms on him.

She remembered falling asleep near him then slumping on him then... she guessed her tired self wrapped her heavy arms around him during their sleep. They slept together. Yeah, she could taste his salty sweat on her lips. She didn’t want to be that close to him but two hot bodies together produced more heat, or something, and it made them even sweatier. This place was hot, it wasn’t the same Winter they used to be. They weren’t really dressed for it, the only thing they could do is undressing and Roz wasn’t doing that. She was still the same quiet and prude girl, but there was a boy who was protecting her and she had to do what she had to do. Really, she would go back to sleep but she couldn’t do that with him.

She put her left hand on his shoulder and cocked her head to look at him in the eyes. She didn’t know what to say, fantasy books would often spew something to moralize the troupes but she didn’t remember anything. She didn’t even remember the name of her favourite book, it felt so far away inside of her mind. She opened her lips, whispering to Rodney some words she thought that might help him,

“Mhm, are you okay Rod?”

[Cicadan]

Looked like they were both up, and no harm had come to either of them somehow. Clay was relieved, because he'd been so far waiting to be grimly not surprised that he'd somehow fail in the interim. But no, they'd as a group managed to clear...

Three hours. Maybe. The night wasn't even at it's darkest yet, it probably wasn't even the next day.

Clay had built himself a little observer's nest. Not like anyone cared about that information, least of all himself. All their bags were carefully stocked behind him, right up against the boat husk closer to the open entrance. Perfect field of vision to cover both his sleeping friends... yeah, Rod was already a friend now, why not? Not like the label mattered anyway, any more.

Two boxes were arranged right in front of him, he'd slowly nudged them from a lonely corner of the building to position. Must have taken two hours, clumsily balancing on his one good leg and pushing bit by bit with his arms.

Makeshift cover, just like something out of a wargame... those poor pixel-built troops, having to put all the stock's worth of their lives into what Clay could see in reality was phonemically flimsy. And the thing ultimately was, this shit worked in the video games. It didn't work here in reality.

Still, Clay had himself a 'tactical advantage'. Apparently. It wasn't even waist height. Even if he crouched as low as his paunch would let him crunch up into a ball, his head still poked out.

He didn't respond to the other two shifting around, whispering among themselves. In theory now was his time to sleep, but he didn't budge, and he didn't draw attention to himself.

[Laurels]

"Hm? Oh..yeah..." Rodney said. "Sorry. Go back to sleep."

Rodney suddenly felt ashamed. He wasn't sure how long he had drifted asleep, but it was quite a bad dream. He wished he didn't wake Roz up in the process. He wasn't sure when she wrapped herself around him, but he had interrupted her sleep as well, which made him feel bad. She probably needed the rest more than he did.

Rodney looked over to Clay.

"Um...we can switch if you want..." he told the other boy.

He hoped Clay agreed. The realization that Roz had been sleeping wrapped around him was finally setting in and he wanted to slip away from her before she realized he was embarrassed by that.

[Lilith]

Oh, Clay.

Roz had totally forgotten about you until Rod mentioned you. That was awkward, if anything he was closer to her than Rod was. She barely knew the boy she had just used as a pillow, but he was all over her mind ever since he helped her. Ron owed him and, while she hated it, she was glad it was him instead of Charlie.

Clay had been watching over them, searching for threats in the night. Roz would thank him, but it might sound out of place. She quietly crawl backward, cutting off the body heat from Rod and sat down on the floor. She looked at the two boys. She didn't trust them entirely, but they didn't kill her in her sleep. Roz had the opportunity to ignore her plea for help earlier and it wouldn't have mattered, Clay could have left during the night and it wouldn't have mattered either. Maybe she could trust them, even if she knew one day or the next she would have to betray them.

She mentally took note to kill them painlessly. They didn't deserve to be hurt.

Rod wanted to take his turn to watch over them. Roz shook her head softly, letting her braid sway in the air. She noticed it was erring undone, she would need to redo it soon. Stray hair plucked out randomly and the base was getting undone slowly. Yep, she needed to braid her head again and thank good she wasn't greasy yet. She knew she would get progressively more and more filthy as the time went on, and she knew she should get used to it but she hated being dirty. Perhaps she could find a place where she could wash herself here, possibly the water wasn't cut yet.

Back to the situation, she opened her mouth, her voice was clear now. She didn't feel the need to talk in a hushed tone, she wanted Clay and Rod and the rest of the world to hear what she was about to say. She didn't want to be seen as a damsel in distress no more, she could go back to that role later.

"I can take my turn now, I don't mind."

[Cicadan]

Everything involving the two of them played out in a scene somehow separate from his own existence. They were there, he knew them in flesh and voice and broken bits, but it was like watching a television show. He was just on the outside, an observer.

"Right, I'll... uh.. Sleep for a bit, yeah."

His voice carried louder than his actions, anyways. Clay stood there, awkwardly watching himself being watched. He noted, or maybe it was Roz that reminded him, that he still had a body. A flattened haircut, beat up and bloody shoes. The gaping chasm on his thigh, drooling purulence, he likewise still had that. He'd been ignoring it for a while, not even pointedly, he'd kind of just forgotten about it at some point. The pain came back, but dull and faint. A blunt rock as opposed to sharp knife.

He shuffled off without another word, slowly retreating deeper into the shed. He trusted the two of them would keep him safe, or maybe even not. Maybe just each other, and maybe that was good enough.

He didn't know how long it was later and he was quietly propped up by his back against the cold, harsh body of one of the boats. His shoulders slumped and sagged, he looked asleep; his breaths dry and dead, he sounded asleep.

He stared at the floor and dreamed wakefully of talking to people long since gone.