(no subject)

[devoutish]

[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.

Comments

[bywolves]

Mm. [ Good. He's got that promise. He keeps digging until he's got a deep enough hole - he's shut down entirely, so he won't be speaking unless he's spoken to. ]

[devoutish]

But nothing is gonna happen to you, mate.

[Don't go run off and do something stupid, Royce.]

[bywolves]

You don't know that.

[devoutish]

Royce. Don't leave. Not even for a day.

[bywolves]

[ Flatly: ] I don't plan on it. She didn't plan on this, either.

jumps back to this one

[devoutish]

[He runs a hand down his face.]

You know what I mean. Mercy needs you now more than ever.

quietly dies

[bywolves]

[ He keeps digging. ]

I'm not leaving.

[devoutish]

Royce. I'll take over for you, if you need a rest.

[bywolves]

No. I don't need a rest. [ He's almost mechanical about this. ]

[devoutish]

Help, then?

[There's only that one shovel, but he might be able to find something else to dig with.]

[bywolves]

No. [ His breath catches slightly. ] Let me dig my wife's grave on my own.

[devoutish]

Will you at least let me stay and keep you company?

[bywolves]

[ He pauses - he can't look at Alfie because he's crying again, silent, so he rests his head on top of his hands, hands resting on the handle of the shovel, shovel lodged in the dirt. ]

Yeah. [ His voice shakes. ] You can stay.

[devoutish]

Royce. Take a break, yeah? Come sit. I won't take the job from you.

[bywolves]

[ He gives in about halfway, leaving the shovel where it is and taking a step back. He's stuck where he is, not wanting Alfie to see him cry. ]

[devoutish]

Royce.

[It takes some doing with his back, but he manages to lower himself into a seated position on the ground.]

Come sit?

[bywolves]

[ He does, finally. He moves, slowly, to sit by Alfie on the ground, legs folded. He almost distantly wishes his hair was still long - he'd cut it ages ago, unable to take care of it in this type of world.

Royce just stares down at the ground, not bothering to hide his face. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie doesn't say or do anything beyond sitting there with him. Royce doesn't really need words right now.]

[bywolves]

I don't know what to do. [ Royce says after a while, his voice a croak. ]

[devoutish]

Live day by day. Put one foot in front of the other. It's all you can do.

[He knows from experience.]

Live for Mercy.

[bywolves]

[ He doesn't think he can. He stares at the floor. There's another long silence, and then, quietly: ]

The man who shot her. What did he look like?

[devoutish]

[Alfie describes him in detail - build, coloring, clothing, notable features. He'd paid attention, because he'd known Royce would eventually ask.]