wickedchouette | (no subject)

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[When the car radiator overheats for the third time in a week, Alfie takes it as a sign that it's finally time for more than just another quick tune-up.

They're in a deserted area, which is both good and bad. On the one hand, most of the dangerous gangs are still in urban areas, the way they had been before the world had gone to shit. Out here in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by miles and miles of fields with only the occasional small copse of trees, they're not likely to run into anyone at all, much less anyone dangerous. But on the other hand, if they do come across anyone, there won't be anywhere to run to or hide. Alfie, as always, has his pistol tucked into his coat pocket, and they have more weapons stashed away in the trunk. But they're a small group - no match for the bigger gangs with armored trucks and heavy artillery. If they meet one of those, they'll be slaughtered.

With his sleeves rolled up and the hood of the car open, he leans in with his tools, carefully tinkering away. He can't afford to make a mistake here - replacement parts are rare and precious. When he hears footsteps behind him, he doesn't dare look away from his work as he says sharply:]

Stay back. You don't want hot steam to the face.

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[ Gwen sighs a little, but Royce speaks up at that. ] He's right. Don't. You need rest. Need to make sure this stays clean.

[ He's very meticulous about the cleaning. He glances up at Alfie, and then at Mercy, his expression softening. ] We got a good deal. On the parts for the car and for the supplies. Mercy is good at negotiating.

[ Mercy puffs up proudly, grinning. ]

Course she is.

[Alfie smiles, cuffing Mercy lightly on the arm. But then he catches Royce's eye, and sobers a little.]

Talk tonight, mate?

[ Gwen raises her eyebrows, but she doesn't comment. Royce, on the other hand, doesn't even look up, busy with wrapping Gwen's wound. ]

If you want. [ He answers curtly. Still - as much as he's cold now, he's around later, after they've driven a fair amount, after Gwen and Mercy are settled in for the night. Royce takes his usual spot on top of the car, staring out into the distance, waiting for Alfie to indicate he wants to actually talk. ]

[After kissing Mercy good night, Alfie climbs out of the car quietly, leaning against the door and looking up at Royce.]

How long are you planning to be angry?

A day or two. [ That's mostly wry. Sarcastic. ]

You know what she is to me. What you all are. You know that I would never - never - be negligent with her life.

[ He's quiet for a long moment, and then he slides closer to the edge of the roof of the car so he can look at Alfie more closely. ]

I know. I'm not angry now. [ He tilts his head slightly. ] I was. Gwen being in danger makes me irrational.

She doesn't want you to know what the man looked like. She's worried you'll want to track him down.

[ Icily: ] It's best that I don't know what he looks like. Yes.

[He looks up at Royce, then climbs up onto the car roof next to him.]

She'll heal up well?

It looks like it. [ Royce murmurs. He's fine with Alfie sitting here - maybe even makes him relax a little. ] We need to make sure it stays clean. Otherwise she'll be fine.

We'll clean the wound daily. More, if we need to. We've still got a good stockpile of medical supplies.

[And they can always look, or trade, for more.]

[ Royce nods, leaning forward to rest his arms against his knees, hunched over. ]

No walking for her. I can't. We can't risk it. I can't risk her.

Mm. We'll drive when we can. One of us can carry her when we can't.

Okay. [ Royce says, quiet. He glances at Alfie. ] How's your back?

Not bad.

[Then he grunts, admitting:]

I might not be able to do much carrying, long-term.

[Not of supplies, and not of Gwen.]

We're not going to be able to move far. [ Royce says, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. ] We have Mercy and Gwen. I can only carry one at a time. We'll need to rely on the car or just find a place to wait until Gwen's leg heals.

How much gas have we got left now?

Few days worth. Four. Five maybe. There's a city a few days north that may have a few buildings left standing enough for us to hole up in.

Let's aim for that, then.

[He goes quiet for a moment, glancing over at Royce.]

I'm gonna get some sleep. Wake me up halfway through the night so you can rest.

Mm. Keep our girls safe. [ Royce says idly, staring out into the night. He waves Alfie off, and watches for as long as he can keep himself awake.

Two days pass just fine - but by the end of the night on the second day of driving, Gwen doesn't look great. Royce fusses over her - she waves him off, but it's clear she has a fever. She curls up miserably in the back of the car, hair damp and clinging to her skin, and Royce freaks out a little. Gwen tells them to keep going, and Royce gets angry, snaps at her and then immediately apologizes, pulling her close.

Day three is harder. Gwen is pale, and her fever is getting worse, and when Royce looks up at Alfie when they park for the night, wrapped around a sleeping, fitful Gwen, his expression is flooded with worry and a little bit of panic. ]

She needs antibiotics.

[Alfie's voice sounds steady and not at all panicky, but his facial expression betrays him - he can't keep the worry out of his eyes.]

We should reach that city by tomorrow. Maybe--

We don't know if anybody will be there. [ Royce says, tucking Gwen's head under his chin and holding her close. Deep breath. Steady. ] What do we have to trade?

Gasoline might be our best shot. Lucky we found that gas station yesterday.

[ Gwen lets out a soft, pained sound, and Royce's breath catches as she shifts. He looks back up at Alfie. Royce looks pained. ] Yes. Whatever it takes.

[ He looks over at Mercy, who is curled up on the seat by them, fast asleep. ] I don't - I don't know what else we can do. We've done as much as possible to keep the wound uninfected.