Sing Us A Song; You're the Piano Man

[Cactus]

Fisher Darden couldn't help himself. He just couldn't. Every voice in his mind was screaming at him to take the gun and execute Tiny right here, right now. Follow the rules that those blasted Yanks had given them. It was the logical thing to do, the pragmatic thing.

"I got you, mate. Don't worry."

But that would make him a monster, and it would go against everything he stood for. Fisher may have been a lot of things - a teller of bad jokes, a goofball of the highest order, sometimes a bit more defensive than he needed to be - but when it was all said and done, there was one thing that he wasn't. He wasn't a killer. He wasn't a malicious, unfeeling madman, and he wasn't going to give these bastards the satisfaction. That probably ended up with his own demise; he knew this, but when it came to pulling the trigger on someone, it wasn't something he could fathom.

So he set out to patch up Tiny's arm.

Taking out some gauze and a cotton strip from the first-aid kit that Tiny gave back to him, Fisher sympathetically winced at the nasty-looking wounds the boy had suffered in the skirmish with Molly. If they weren't stinging already, they certainly would in a few days. There it was again. Thinking about a future that was never to be. He pressed the cotton against the wound and started to wrap the gauze tightly around Tiny's arm. He made it three-quarters of the way up his arm before he tore the gauze and clipped it on with a small metal clip from the kit. This would have to do. He couldn't imagine that it felt very good, but it would stifle any bleeding and with the painkillers in the kit, he'd probably have a fighting chance.

"It's probably not a bad idea if you take some of those pills. It'll help in the short term, anyhow." It was all they had; the short term.

Sighing, Fisher looked at the empty bar. Once upon a time, this had been a happy place, where people had gone to drink away their troubles, to have fun with their friends, to enjoy their trip to a resort. Time had been unkind to the room. Their dishevelled states only added to it. Turning around, Fisher looked over at his patient and gave him a sad, wry smile.

"I miss home, too. I've tried not to think about it, but," he looked down at his hands; stained now with a second person's blood, "hard not to at this point, yeah?"

He really needed to wash those hands.

Tiny was obviously grappling with the need to stay strong, stay calm, convey a presence. Make himself feel like his actions were justified, like they had meaning. Hours ago, he would have judged the guy for them. Hell, he still did. But he understood them. He understood Tiny's feelings more than he did Pippa, more than he had his own when Lena had come before them.

He was scared. Of what he'd done, of what he would do.

Of what lay ahead of them.

What did lay ahead? It was a good question, so he posed it.

"So what now? We hole up here for the night, and then...?"

[Primrosette]

Tiny and Fisher were both pretty much quiet as Fisher had got to work on taking care of things for him and he was trying to not make his mind wonder about home. Why was he even thinking about it now? It wasn't going to help him in this place. He had to try to focus on something else and he was staring at his hands in front of him. Oh, a bit of his blood was on his palms and fingers. He had to get rid of that soon. He had to get rid of his filthiness soon.

"Alright, alright. Pills are helpful. I.... I got you...." Buddy. Tiny took out some pills from a packet and he wasn't even looking at the name of what they were. Fisher said it was fine to take them and Tiny felt like he was too out of it to care if he was taking the wrong thing. Oh well, he'll be fine, he'll be completely fine. He then took two pills with a few sips from a bottle of water and he let out a sigh of tiredness. "I should be good. For now."

Tiny glanced at Fisher as he mentioned that he missed home as well as he did and Tiny felt like a massive dick for not even considering Fisher's own feelings. Of course, Fisher would feel the same as he did! Who wouldn't miss being at home? Sure, there was times where some things had sucked, but....

"It was so much easier not to think about it, you know? Home. My Aunt.... My M-Mum...." He said with a slight, sad smile and he forced himself to clean up the first aid kit to distract himself from going back into a sobbing mess. "God, I can't even bare to think of what they would think of me right now. I'm not sure if I can step back from whatever I'm tryin' to do with myself."

Staying here for the night would be good for me. I don't think that I can go outside yet. And well, I don't fucking know what to do next really.

"I definitely think we should stay here for now. I'm too exhausted to go back out there right now. For tomorrow, we should...." Tiny paused for a few moments and then he felt guilt creeping over his facial expression. "We should find Galahad. He's gonna be in a right fuckin' mess over Freya and...."

And what? What are I doing to do? Maybe Fisher would be able to do something. I don't know.

[Cactus]

Galahad, shit. Fisher had forgotten.

It had been a dying promise that Freya had made to him, likely in jest and in her usual snarky way, but it was one that Fisher was going to try his damndest to fulfill. At least, that had been the plan before he'd encountered Tiny and all of the other shit had gone down.

"Shit, yeah. He, uh," hesitating, Fisher's shoulders fell, "I was with Freya when she died. She asked me to tell him something."

So they'd stay - that was unspoken, unsaid. Even better, they had a task. The odds were low; finding Galahad in amongst all of this misery was going to be near-impossible, particularly considering the fact that killing had woven its way into the tapestry of their new day-to-day existence.

"Have you seen him at all? I don't even know where we'd start to look."

[Primrosette]

Tiny was staring at the other boy with curiosity over his face. So Freya had wanted Fisher to tell Galahad something, huh? Damn, Tiny should have dragged Galahad with him from the beach, but he had been so annoyed and frustrated at both Oliver and Rajni. Mostly Oliver. And now he had no right to think that he was more superior to the other guy. Man, everything was just so.... fucked. Pretty much fucked.

"She wanted you to tell him somethin', huh...?" He murmured softly and then he cleared his throat a little. "Well, the last time that I saw Galahad was at the beach. Rajni and Oliver were there too. But Oliver was too fucked up to do anythin'. So I think Galahad is possibly with Rajni somewhere. At least I hope they aren't dead...."

I pretty much abandoned Galahad who I dragged around because I was going to use him as a meat shield.

[Cactus]

At the beach - that was a start, if anything, but Fisher knew that enough time had likely passed since Tiny had seen Galahad that he could be anywhere at this point, if he wasn't already dead. The dark was approaching and the day was fast bidding them farewell. Fisher felt a little happy that he was still breathing, but it was laced with the guilt that so many of his friends weren't. They were killing one another at a more rapid pace now. Hell, he'd just helpd move a body that Tiny had created after watching Pippa murder Freya, an escalation that he didn't understand.

"As much as I'd love to go start to look... it's getting late, man. I doubt he's still at the beach, anyhow. You're exhausted, so am I. So why don't we stick to the plan, hunker down here tonight and figure out what to do tomorrow?"

[Primrosette]

Tiny was relieved to be able to rest for the night. Although, he had a feeling that he wouldn't be able to sleep that much because he was sure that he would be having nightmares about his sins that he had committed on the island. But he was thankful towards Fisher for suggesting that they should settle for the night and think about things more clearly in the morning.

"Sure, sure. We need to have our minds clear for tomorrow. Let's hit the hay. I'm fuckin' beat."

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Tiny did not have a good sleep after they had barricaded the entrance with the piano and some other items that were there for them to use. Tiny felt like he wanted to play the piano while it was there, but it reminded him too much of home and he decided to forget about it. It still had felt too painful to think about his fond memories and he knew that he had no right to even feel slightly happy and sad about his family. The piano was now looking like a curse on him. Tormenting him.

He didn't really get a good sleep as he had been tossing and turning as he had slept on the wooden floor and he kept waking up after having bad dreams about what he had done to Lucy and Penny. He deserved all of it. He shouldn't be able to sleep without any worries about the people that he had killed. He needed the reminder that he was still a murderer and he had to do something to atone for it at some point. But what was he going to do for that? How could he atone for what he had done to them? He needed more time to think about his next moves.

Tiny had been awake for a little while but he had made sure not to disturb Fisher who looked like he was still resting. He had picked up the gun and he was now sitting on a stool; the gun was on the counter in front of him. He was just waiting. Waiting for the announcement to come to life to tell him of his fate.

And the speakers crackled to life to tell of more suffering of others.

[Cactus]

"Fucking hell," was the only thing that made sense for him to say.

No, there was a lot more that he could have said, but Fisher had slept like shit, and only woken up to the announcement. The night had been uneventful and Tiny had tossed and turned a whole bunch, obviously not sleeping all that well. Fisher didn't blame him; he had bodies on his conscience. He didn't know if he'd be able to sleep ever again if he were to have killed someone. He'd watched people die with his own eyes and that was seared very nicely into his brain already, thank you very much.

But yeah, there was more to say.

"Fucking Pippa, that fucking cunt."

His voice was scratchy and still groggy from being suddenly raised from his slumber, but his erstwhile companion had been busy since they parted ways. She, along with Tiny and some girl named Victoria — he couldn't put a face to the name, anyway — all had numerous kills on their ledger.

At the very least, Galahad had not succumbed. So there was a small victory. Not that he knew exactly what he was going to say when he found him. Who knew what kind of mental shape his classmate would be in? Fisher was barely in a sound mental space himself. He was holed up in an abandoned bar with an admitted murderer. A murderer whom he'd comforted and even helped move the body of one of his victims. Which made him complicit, he supposed. It was all blending together, all of the lines between right and wrong, between good and evil, between just and prejudice.

Was today the last day of his life?

That was a shitty thought to wake up to, but it was a thought, and he'd awoken. Tiny sat on one of the bar stools, listening to the announcement with a faraway look on his face. His own misdeed had been announced, but Fisher decided that he wasn't going to bring it up. Especially since Tiny was once more holding his pistol.

"I've had better sleeps, huh mate?"

It was a strange change in subject from the list of their dead friends and classmates, but at this point there was no sugarcoating it. They both had blood on their hands, Fisher more in the literal sense — though he had finally washed Freya's blood off before he'd dozed off. He'd been a bystander to too much death to feel like he was purely innocent in it all.

[Primrosette]

Fisher's reaction was pretty much what Tiny was thinking to the announcement and he didn't say anything even when the announcement had finished up. He definitely felt a queasy impact in his stomach and he was resisting the urge to cough up bile. Everything was getting more and more fucked up as time was going on and he wasn't sure what the hell he was supposed to do about it. There was no way that he could stop anyone else from dying and he knew that he might have a target on his back. No, he definitely was someone who people would try to avoid or people could have the balls to try to kill him.

This is all just so exhausting to care about. God, I wonder how Galahad is reacting right now to Freya's death. …Poor kid. He's gonna be a complete mess. I shouldn't care, but.... Damn.

Fisher was trying to change the subject and Tiny was wondering if Fisher was trying to make sure that he wasn't going to sink deeper and deeper into despair. "Ha, ha. You're tellin' me, buddy. You're tellin' me." He said with a slight shake of his head and a small smile was appearing on his drained-looking face. "God.... Is there anythin' that you want to talk about before we go out there?"

We'll be heading back into a nightmare. But I can handle it. I have to for Fisher. I need him as much as I'm sure that he will need me. Huh, I wonder what will happen if there is a possibility of us making it to the end. I wonder...

[Cactus]

Biting his lip, Fisher thought for a moment and then shook his head. There were a million things that he'd rather be doing right now than likely heading out to his own demise. Sitting on a beach somewhere would have been nice, oh — playing video games in his basement. Maybe surfing the Internet aimlessly at the bloody ass-end of the morning. He'd even rather be at the dentist right now.

That's how he knew he was right and truly fucked.

Nobody would rather be at the dentist.

"I can't think of anything," he slowly shook his head. "Except to ask, uh. Can I take something to defend myself with? Stick 'em with the pointy end, maybe? I just... fuck, mate. I don't know how much help I'll be in any kind of fight but I'll certainly try."

What else was there to say, truly? Collecting his bags, Fisher sighed as he looked at the henceforth barricaded door. He didn't know what they were going to find out there outside of death and destruction. Tiny seemed to have a bit more of a hold on his own sanity, which was good. It was really good. Considering he'd admitted that he was going to kill Fisher when he'd come in, and then actually killed someone not minutes later...

"It's good to be on your side of all this, mate. Let's go find Galahad and," he stopped. What would they do after they did? Deliver Freya's dying words, and then what?

They'd have to cross that bridge when it came. All of this was so screwed up.

[Primrosette]

Well, I can't blame Fisher for wanting a weapon. There is no way that I am carrying two weapons, it would feel like more of a hassle to have two on hand and I rather have a hand free. Just in case... Well, I might have to use my hands again on someone. …So yeah, Fisher can have the pitchfork. I trust him more than I trust myself.

"Hey, don't worry about it, Fisher. I know that you want to be helpful and I appreciate that. I thought about givin' the pitchfork to you anyway. Man, fightin' with more people, huh?" Tiny said and then there was a pause of silence between them before he started to speak again. "Well, I know that Pippa needs to be taken out. And Victoria. Oliver, hm. He's someone to keep an eye out for. Although, I'm not sure how long that guy will be a problem for us."

Tiny knew that their main objective was to find Galahad. It seemed like Galahad was someone that Tiny couldn't really get away from and he knew that if Rajni and Galahad were still together.... Oh boy, Rajni was gonna be pissed off at him again. For killing once again. Would Galahad be too broken over Freya to fear him for killing another person? Tiny guessed that he would have to find out about that.

"Pippa. Victoria. Oliver. Remember their names, Fisher." He said seriously as he got up to his feet with a more or less determined look and he picked up the gun, feeling like it was weighing him down with all his guilt and regrets. "...We just need to talk to Galahad. We just need to listen to him. Let him cry it out. He needs to.... He needs to let everythin' out."

Tiny made his way to get their barricade out of the way and he still felt like the piano was a thing of the past of his home life. He missed it dearly.

((Tiny Sterling continued in Reason It Out))

[Cactus]

Picking up the pitchfork, Fisher found that it felt unusual in his hands. It had already been used as a murder weapon, so to feel silly carting it around was something that he knew wasn't trite. Yet, still — if he had to, was he really going to be able to use this as Tiny had already? Sure, it was simple, you just stuck 'em with the pointy end, but...

"You got it, mate. Us against the world, I guess. Or at least, the evil part of the equation."

Who was really evil, anyhow? Tiny had said it, Oliver, Victoria, Pippa. There were probably others. Once upon a time, they'd all probably have gone to lunch together. Talked about their problems, like the good Brits they were.

Once upon a time was a whole other genre to the story Fisher felt himself writing now.

As he left the bar, he could only think one thing, over and over again in his mind.

Did this story have a happy ending, genre be damned?

Bloody hell, he hoped so.

((Fisher Darden continued in Reason It Out))