━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

a quiet sigh escapes her, and she nods with the acknowledgement that she could, indeed, do whatever she wanted. and she’s so certain fletcher would understand if she did, too. never one to complain, never one to make her feel as though she’d made a mistake in taking the time for herself. 

but she doesn’t, not yet and when she finally pulls away to look back at caleb sadly, she shakes her head. “made an oath, me. a promise. migh’ not be honor among thieves like me, mais… that boy is everythin’ to me. an’ if he needs me, i will be there. it’s my place.”

"Alright, then, we're not going anywhere." It's as easy as that. Caleb urged her to move, to take off and put herself first. She is firm in her decision and Max isn't the type to argue with. He is positive that once her mind is made up it is useless trying to convince her otherwise.

— ⛺️ —

He was a fool. That’s all he could think about. A fool to think that Caleb might still feel the same way he did, a fool to still want the man like there wasn’t twenty years to bridge between them. To have let his walls fall, to have closed the distance between them once more only to be pushed away. 

You have to understand why. 

And he doesn’t - not really. All he understands in the moment is that Caleb doesn’t want him anymore. 

“No, no - no, no, no,” Vic breathed, pulling his hair, nearly tripping over his feet but managing to catch himself on the handle of the nearby bench. “Don’t. It’s - it’s fine.” He waved him off. I can’t. He’d said. Can’t what? Deal with him anymore? 

Just like most everyone else. 

“Forget it, Cal.”

🛠️

In the way Vic keeps stepping back, stumbling a bit, hands in his hair and repeating the word 'no' over and over like a mantra has Caleb go to extend an arm to catch him. If he is to fall... but he doesn't. He secures himself, waves Caleb off, and something sits in the pit of his stomach that's heavy and acidic.

"Forget what?" Caleb prompts. He steps closer, one foot forward, hands seeking his pockets where they curl into fists. He has no intention of fighting or causing an issue, he just needs a place to put them she he doesn't go and reach out to Vic.

To keep him on his feet, from hitting the ground - nothing more, nothing less.

He grinned, something about Caleb wanting his company, to be happy in it, made him feel a little better. Because he too enjoyed the company of the other. “Exactly,” he posed, glad to sit so close to the other as he spoke of Kaz. He didn’t care, things were weird between them now. He licked the inside of his teeth. “Nah, it’s okay. Last time we saw each other, I kid you not, we actually talked. Barely, but enough to figure out we may have spend more time fighting and hating each other than actually knowing what the other was about.” 

“Oh, that makes sense. I totally get that,” he answered. He hadn’t done so himself, but he had felt the need to steal his father’s things to piss him off. “You mean here? There is this individual around who has been growing weed in their attic for the last months now. I think they love the practice or something.” 

Bishan laughed at that. “You are so right, they so are. It makes me not want to be there myself.” 

Progress, Caleb assumes. And growth. If Kaz deserved to be punched in the face the one day, then that's fine. It doesn't mean they can't kiss and make up. Some siblings stay enemies, some grow into it, and some grow out of it. "Nothing wrong with getting to know that about your brother. Who knows, you might be able to build a relationship with him without the hate." He is sure Bishan knows that if it calls for it, they don't have to mend anything, but the opportunity is there.

"Hah, someone growing weed in their attic. I don't know why that's funny to me. But hey, there are no rules in the end of the world. I might have to find them one of these days if I'm feeling it. My dorm buddy in college was a stoner, I'd just share off of him." What would one joint hurt? Nothing at all. He takes a drag of his cigarette and is careful to exhale away from Bishan's face.

"Without much else to do when we're not at the maintenance headquarters I find myself at the tavern more times than. That in itself is sad, isn't it?" Caleb shrugs. "But everything is a habit from before this. A routine. I fell right back into it a few days after getting here. What else is there to do in our free time?" The more social types had plenty to do, but Caleb? He didn't extend himself to anyone really. Max would find him easy, her ability to seek him out unmatched by anyone else, and Ray is always always busy.

— ⛺️ —

It’s too fast, how quickly Caleb pushes him away. Too short, the comfort provided by having him in his arms again, by holding onto him like he may never have to let go. 

But he does. He has to. His arms fall from around Caleb’s middle as he’s pushed away, his own hands lifting to clumsily shove Caleb’s pressing hands aside and off of him, a stumbling sort of step taken to back away. There’s an ache in his chest, maybe one that had always been there, to think that he could’ve had Caleb to himself all these years - but he’d gone and made a mess of it. 

“Yea - “ he mutters, his eyes flickering up to Caleb’s briefly before skirting away. Not now. But when? He didn’t deserve him. Not now, not ever. 

Alone. Funny, how Caleb had said it. He gets it now.

“Righ’ - no, you’re right -” he mumbles, combing a hand clumsily through his hair as he continues to step away.

🛠️

Vic takes a step back and Caleb feels like he can breathe. The thing about the close contact that got to him most is that it wasn't unwanted. His heart fluttered and he found himself feeling the way he did all those years ago. He's not sure if he hates that about himself, and that might just be why that resentment bubbled back up and overshadowed it. Told him to put a stop to any affection.

"You have to understand why..." Caleb nods with a frown. No sense in driving backwards thinking about it. Things have happened now, however minutely. Such as.. this conversation. Vic never addressed what he did, never asked Caleb about it. He’s not exactly sure what the answer is either. He shrugs. "Yeah... it's..." Ugh. "I can't." He hopes he doesn't have to go into it further for his drunken friend to understand, and that this will be all it is.

Bishan grinned. “Noted,” he said. He didn’t have anything against drinking, or alcohol, he just never did it unless if he had a good reason to. Unless if he was sharing it with others. He was, in a sense, a company drinker. Watching Caleb relax and sit down, Bishan went to join him. He wasn’t planning on going home any time soon, and he figured Caleb would not mind the company. 

He laughed. “No, perfect song choice for me. Annoying the hell out of people, switching some Spanish words around. There’s enough other Spanish songs to sing, but this one really takes the cake when it comes to be annoying.” At the mention of his brother, he shrugged. He hadn’t seen Kaz, so he figured his brother had simply decided to stay at a distance. Who knew, they might still get into a fight over it eventually. “Pretty sure he stayed home.” 

“I did,” he said. At least… to a point. But he did. “No, go ahead, normal cigarette? I only smoke the other kind,” he said, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. 

"Just as I said, an antagonistic choice. And now that you’re done annoying them I have the pleasure of being graced by your presence.” Imagining a palatable reason for why else Caleb would go to the karaoke night is impossible. "Wasn't sure if he would have found it just as annoying. Maybe it's nosy of me to ask." He doesn't tell Bishan he's met him because he doesn't want to divulge on anything in particular that may dredge up negative feelings. He's looking for easy conversation.

"That's all it is. My dad was a smoker, I stole cigarettes from him as a kid. The habit stuck until college." Then he quit to improve his athletic performance in football - the reason he had a full ride to the University of Michigan. And it saved him money and a whole lot of other health complications. But, the end of the world presented him with enough reason to fall back on a vice. "Haven't had the 'other kind' in a long time. I wondered how you kids all had it circulating." But is it that hard to grow a plant? Whether it's the farmhands or just some young adults who have a green thumb.

He grinned in response, enjoying the company, seeing Caleb made him feel a little more seen. “Actually, I did, well, not the dancing or the drinking part, but I did sing, never thought I would be doing that.” He laughed. Bishan was still smug about it, even if the person he had sung the song for had been kissing someone else when he had been on stage, even if it had felt like he was showing everyone how happy he was, only to have that get smacked right back into his face. 

“You know that huge Spanish summer hit, Despacito. So many people hate that song so much for how overplayed it was. So I played that,” he said with a smirk. He could at least bask in that, and the fact that he was more than a former guard and a huge asshole. He could also be a good singer and a piano player. Though in his chest there lived the annoyance that he had shared it, while he would now rather take it all back, keep it a secret again. 

“Save the drinking for an after work beer with me one night.” Though Bishan did sing, but he definitely didn’t expect him to. Not that he had any doubts in his capability regarding the talent, but, well, he never really thought much about how he'd be the guy to get in front of people at a karaoke night. He only half-regrets not popping in for that moment, but it is what it is. The night has been just as fine out there, peaceful and relaxing. He takes a few steps over to sit at the steps onto the playground equipment.

— ⛺️ —

A light hum plays in the back of Vic’s throat as he considers Caleb’s words, perhaps taking a moment longer than normal to process them properly. And the bar…well, it hadn’t not been fun, all things considered. But it had been far more about downing drinks than it was socializing or participating. Being with Caleb? That was far more fun. 

One hand unfurls the grip on Caleb’s shirt front to pat against the man’s chest, as if confirming that he was indeed there and present and not some figment of his imagination (these days just about anything was possible). “I ain’t alone.” 

For once.

He was trying to be better at that. Not being alone. It was a habit that had been long since ingrained in him, even as a child. Caleb was one of the few who was able to break through that, to give him a shoulder to lean on. And hadn’t he gone and ruined it all?

There’s a subtle whine given as Caleb pulls his hand bearing the nearly used up cigarette away from Vic’s grasping reach, but the attention is lost quickly enough with Caleb’s arm looping around him in support. His face nuzzles into the nook of Caleb’s neck where it had once fit so well, his own arms falling to cling around the man’s middle. 

“I missed you,” he mumbles into his skin.

🛠️

Alright then, now Vic isn't alone. Caleb will give him that as he lets out a chuckle that is muffled with his closed-mouth smirk. Every bit of amusement in him immediately dissipates at Vic's affection. He tenses, swallows and realizes his heart skips a beat. But not in the way it used to when Vic's arms wrapped around him so long ago. He feels like he might just need to run.

"Hey, Vic..." he starts quietly. They're friends still, that's fine. Caleb is alright with that, or he thought so. He can be there to talk, to drag him back to his house so he can get some rest. If he needs an eye on him outside the walls again, Caleb will jump right to it to help offer protection... But this?

No, heart is closed off and it doesn't matter how much his skin tingles or how it feels like a spark of electricity jolts through him at the contact. He isn't falling for it again.

                             ━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

“never.” their opinions weren’t ever her problem and she wouldn’t let them be, either. they could judge and be as disapproving as they wished to be. it would never get beneath her skin. never again.

hearing how caleb laughs at her antics is only ever encouragement to perform more of them. an endearing little thing she found herself adoring more and more. though, his point to bring her back to reality is a harsh one, her features faltering and the grin perpetually plastered to her face in his presence sinking just enough to be noticed.

“don’ think he’s even noticed i’m here,” she murmurs, straightening up to rest her head on his shoulder, cuddling him all the tighter without though. “doubt he’s goin’ to notice if i’m gone.”

This time he really did say the wrong thing. The reminder of Fletcher being inside one she didn't react to positively. Just the subtlest change in how she is smiling tells him enough.

"I didn't mean to upset you..." She did tell him that, Caleb thinks, that they couldn't go too far from the wake. Then he thinks that it might not be the wake and 'all the crying and moping' Max had wanted a distraction from. There are plenty of other things under the surface and all her complexities he doubts he will really truly be given a chance to understand, but in what she says Caleb is sure he gets it enough to realize that her boy inside might be the source of her sadness.

WHERE: playground WHEN: 24th of july… or 25th already? WITH @calebmajhi

She’d been kissing someone else. 

Someone that wasn’t him. 

Bishan had exited the tavern like he would exit any other place, as if he didn’t care much for anything. It wasn’t how he felt inside, but he wasn’t new too pretending nothing was up. Hand in the pockets of his kaki’s, Bishan went to find one of the few people he hadn’t seen at the party, aimlessly moving through Fairvale until he spotted the tall frame at the school’s playground of all places, smoke bellowing up from the cigarette in his hands. 

“No interest in seeing drunk people try to preform classics?” he asked, walking up to Caleb with a smile on his face, his pain barely visible. Why of all people he sought out Caleb, he didn’t really understand, maybe it was the understanding that passed so easily between them, maybe it was the neediness and greed deep down that felt cheated on and wanted revenge. 

He didn't seek out the playground for any reason. Really, Caleb had just been taking a nightly stroll. His apartment felt hot and lonely, he felt boxed in. And yeah, he's still alone but it feels different when he is out and moving. The playground is empty this late at night which is all the reason he needs to wander in, wood chips shuffling under the soles of his boots, and lean up against the solid railing near the slide so he could light up a cigarette.

He has maybe two left. Two and a half? Chomsky might have some he can trade a token for if the craving for nicotine becomes too much.

Bishan's voice is a pleasant sound, though startling enough in the quiet of the night. Caleb hears him clear over the sound of frogs and crickets. "No, not at all." He laughs and grins at the younger man, more than happy for the company. "Did you? Sing, drink, dance? If you did, I just might feel like I missed out on a rare opportunity." As spectator to see Bishan under the spotlight basking in a good sort of attention. Not the kind you get from throwing rocks at people.

— ⛺️ —

Vic breathes out a scoff as he approaches, his head shaking firmly if a little over dramatically in response. “I ain’t properly sloshed,” he says in a mocking tone. “And I most definitely didn’t touch that damn microphone. Though you know I can hold a lovely tune, thank you very much.” It’s not true, but if there is anything a little alcohol could do is make a man over confident. He did manage to still have some wits about him to make sure not to step up to that microphone, though. 

So far, anyway. There was still plenty of night left, wasn’t there? Who knew what it might still entail…

“I don’t get sloppy,” he added with a bit of a childish tone in his voice now, reaching Caleb (had he always been so far away?) and letting his fingers curl into the front of his shirt without hesitation. For balance, in part - but also not. 

His nose scrunches the slightest bit at the smell of the smoke on him though, the embers of a cigarette still burning between his fingers. “I though’ you kicked that habit ages ago,” he huffs before a hand slips down Caleb’s arm towards the vice.

As a matter of fact, Vic is pretty sloshed. Caleb bites his bottom lip to hold in a laugh. It doesn't stop him from snorting, or his eyes from widening in an amused way at the way his fingers curls in the front of his shirt. He solidly stands there, bracing himself in case Vic takes a tumble, and extends his own arm to loop under his, hand coming to rest against his shoulder blade to offer support.

"You sound like you were having a great time, and now you're out here. All alone. Don't even pretend you were walking a straight line there." So he would have thought maybe he was exaggerating but Vic's more animated than he's seen in a long time. There has to be a few drinks behind that.

Where: Somewhere around town square ish area When: July 24th, 2020 late or July 25th, 2020 very early, somewhere in the midnight land Who: closed @calebmajhi

He hadn’t gone in with any sort of intention of sticking around. Truth be told, Vic couldn’t understand this whole thing of celebrating when they didn’t have anything left worth celebrating in this life. If they made it through tomorrow that should count as a win - and blasting music and letting down their guard wasn’t exactly the way to go about survival.

But Ray had promised him some decent home brew after he got his hands on it and with the first batch ready to be taste tested, he wasn’t going to let the guy down. And while he had yet to embarrass himself by belting out some lyrics on the karaoke machine or showing off his two left feet, there was still plenty of time left in the night - and a few too many drinks later had him stumbling out into the fresh air and wandering absently in the general direction of his bed, though he wasn’t quite ready to lay his head down to rest just yet. 

Besides, there was a pretty face in his line of sight now.

“Caleb Majhi, as I live and breathe! Fancy seeing you here,” he calls in a voice boisterous in the otherwise quiet square, approaching the man without any hesitation in his step - though not quite stable in it, either.

Maybe if it had been twenty years ago he'd have found it to be somewhat nostalgic. To hear Vic's voice so loud in the still of the night with a stagger in his step, it brings back memories. Of high school parties with cheap and shitty beer, the cans working with the chill of a the winter night on a back porch to numb their finger tips. Not at the party, but on the walks home when it was the two of them, arm in arm, laughing about something stupid that someone did. Or just about any nonsense. When they were young and Caleb thought they were invincible.

They're not back in Bend or leaving a high school party on a Friday night. They're in the middle of an apocalypse in a make shift town that happens to have a bar in it... that hosted a karaoke night. Did Vic go to that?

                            ━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

a hum answers him as her head tilts towards those that begin to leave, remembering now, where they are. and what this entire gathering is for. a small amount of guilt bubbles in her stomach for leaving fletcher alone so long and yet, she can’t bring herself to walk away from caleb just yet. not when he held her so easily and so willingly and not when, for a change, she felt as if she didn’t need to run a million miles an hour for everyone.

so she relaxes, cuddling up to him close despite the all the gazes that flicker towards them with a murmuring of what she could only assume is some form of judgement. “ain’ a wake for anyone i care for,” she tells him honestly. “you can only respect the dead so much before it’s not respect at all.”

with a shrug, she turns her attentions back to caleb, another grin spilling into her features, her brows wiggling. “could always go somewhere else. you’re in control righ’ now, you know. could take me anywhere an’ — “ max leans back and away from him comfortably, confidentially, trusting he’d keep her from falling as the back of her hand pressed to her forehead dramatically.

“ — have your way wit’ me. really work out all tha’ grief.”

Caleb nods to those casting them glances from around the corner until they disappear into the night. "Seems like they might care. But I don't think you're one to worry about casual judgment passed by your neighbors, are you?" The tingle of fingers on his neck radiates around his collar in some strange anticipatory dance. A prediction of where he thinks her fingers might eventually go. Or maybe simply a memory of where they’ve been before with no guarantees of tomorrow.

"Oh my god, Max." He's laughing for the umpteenth time that night. His surest bet is to keep on track and stay there, not dare to let such things cross his mind there of all places. To disconnect now. That includes from her display and voice that makes him feel like he’s been smacked in the head with a two by four even in the best of times. "I'd only be able to take you anywhere if you let me. Don't try and fool me into thinking I have an ounce of control in this situation."  

Bishan nodded at the comment, as much as he agreed with that statement, there were times when having so many people against them had made them feel even more alone. Yet, at other times he thrived on it, he loved seeing the look in their eyes, how they avoided him in the hallways, how they would warn new kids against him. He loved proving them right. “And that I did,” he said with a grin. He most certainly had. 

The friend who supported Caleb when things were already going horrid, the friend. The one Bishan felt jealous of. Or maybe he was jealous of Caleb for having made a friend at all. Maybe there was something different about him, maybe he wasn’t like Bishan at all. “I’d say that’s the case with most people. I mean… aside from my brother I know nobody in town from before, but the world is small, maybe smaller than most of us realise. Or we just know more people than we think we do.” He tried to mask the pang of jealousy, even if he didn’t know how the relationship between Caleb and Vic was. 

“That’s what I thought as well, they teach you very little in school too,  learned more at part time jobs than I did sitting in a classroom,” Bishan said. He was certain the piece of paper had been thrown out the moment he got a job. He didn’t even remember if he took it with him, or if his father had kept it. “Yeah, and I’ll try to be a better student than I usually am,” he offered with a grin. 

And really did he try, looking up at whatever Caleb was doing and trying to grasp at what it meant. “I sure hope we do, this weather is making me hungry already.”

Everyone is town has traveled from all over. Some residents were in Georgia their whole lives, and then there are those like Yami who is from across the pond. Caleb recognizes distinct north-eastern accents, the mid-western ones mixed up with the southerners. And even those had their own different dialects. Fairvale is it's own melting pot of people from various backgrounds. Many of those people arrived alone with no one else at their sides. Caleb had originally thought he was one of those to be here not knowing a single person, yet somehow...

"Right, pay attention then. Then you won't have to hold the bag, you can just pass what I need next time." Caleb laughs, a deep sound. Bishan will learn in due time, probably. He'll see to it to try and teach the younger guy about the different tools and pieces - nuts and bolts and the different types of screws, what screwdrivers work with which, and how to familiarize themselves with their function so when a job like this comes up they can wing it successfully.

It is what Caleb is doing now: winging it.

-

Caleb. Kaz could sometimes be the worst with names, but he would likely remember someone who sought to avoid the melancholy of the memorial same as he did. The ‘selection’ might be non-existent at the tavern. But. “I have heard about this special brew coming from Ray. Not the moonshine though.” It piqued his interest. “Not a casual drink either, is it? Have you tried it?” 

He grabbed the seat next to Caleb’s at the bar. Kaz reached over with the small box in hand, to leave the candles for a tender to find. “A Guinness sounds damn good. I liked trying different things. When I had the option to. Tended to lean towards porters and brown ales.” The social aspect of drinking– at a show, a bar, a party, over lunch, at dinner –felt as though it belonged to someone else. Another version of Kaz. 

His tolerance wasn’t as low for alcohol as it was for people in general. Yet there he was with a stranger, ordering a drink from a very short list of choices. “When I first got here, it seemed so surreal. The park, a library. All that. Still seems that way to me sometimes. But this tavern is part of the illusion I like. If only they had a pool table in the back.” 

🛠️

"He vaguely mentioned something to me." Caleb thinks about all the diagrams he saw in Ray's apartment that night. The one where he helped the poor guy get home after a drunken adventure led him sprawled in the grass and missing someone who still seems to hold a piece of his heart. He wasn't nosy enough to really read all the recipes, but it was all interesting enough.

"The moonshine? Yeah, first night I met him he shared a shot of it." And Caleb didn't waste it in one go. He sipped at it, enjoyed it to the very last drop. It'd be a shame they didn't have their usual choice in drinks if not for the state of things. They're allowed to miss what they preferred, memories of things from a life that no longer exists while being grateful for what they do have. "All great choices, anyway. I can appreciate what we have now especially with Ray's improvements to it. I never thought I'd see a bar again - one that's up and functioning. Beggars can't be choosers."

As the bartender comes by to take their order, Caleb listens in on what Kaz is saying. A pool table really would... make it all the more like a bar. "Nothing down at inventory then?" He wonders if this can be a self-made project of his. "Are you good with tools? I might be able to figure out how to make one with whatever materials we can find if it's a project you'd want to commit to. Then it comes down to finding pool balls." Won't be the best form of a pool table, but who would anyone be to judge?

                             ━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

he agrees with her, and she almost takes it as a challenge for herself. to find a way to put their skills to a test in the name of his obvious strength and size over her own and how quick she is on her feet. it’d be a fun experiment, no doubt, though it’s a thought she puts aside for another day when caleb laughs again. she adores this, she realises. this silly little connection. the goofiness of it all and how close he allows her to be without complaint. he looks at her differently, in a way that beckons her forth to be seen in this light all the more.

to have someone see her so fondly, even after all the blood on her knife.

and the kiss atop of her head is enough to falter her grin, a doe eyed and simple expression taking its place as she stares up at him for a moment or two with soft, slow blinks. and then, with an excited little wiggle, she nods, worming her way up his torso all the more until she could look him the face dead on. 

“if you keep kissin’ me like that, then i’ll never be unhappy again.”

He begins to think he was out of line with the gesture, but with all the times Max has planted a kiss on his cheek or even his mouth he thought nothing of it. Her silence worries him for a beat, enough for him to consider apologizing but her eyes have him falling silent. She doesn't look mad, at least.

Then she's climbing further, Caleb helps support her in her venture although she hardly needs the aid. "Uh..." His arms are still scooped under her legs to keep her there now that she's eye level with him, and he leans his head back a bit. Max doesn't look bothered. It's a relief then with what she says, and then he snorts and rolls his eyes. "I thought I was in trouble for a second there. Going to make good on your promise that you could take me or something..." He shrugs.

Ray shucked off his jeans and crawled into bed, sighing at the feeling of cool cotton against his skin. Drinking always made him incredibly warm and sleepy. Ray was about ready to pass out for at least eight hours and wake up hungover. He pulled the sheets up, tucking himself in but leaving room for Caleb to get situated however he wanted to. Ray laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling. The corners of his vision begun to twist and darken in exhaustion. God, when was the last time he drunk like that? Ray can’t recall, it had been too long.

“Thanks for stayin’ Caleb,” Ray’s voice is thick with sleep, a low rumbling noise that barely escaped his chest. Another sigh escaped his lips when Ray closed his eyes. He was dead tired. “People never seem to stay,” Ray continued to mutter, barely loud enough to be heard.

The coils in the mattress bounce as Ray's weight presses into them, and Caleb watches him. He looks just about as tired as Caleb feels. God have mercy on him with the hangover he is going to feel in the morning. It's a wonder he's not thrown up, but he's also appreciative of the fact it didn't happen. Though... it might be wise... ah forget it, Ray already looks pleased to slip under the covers.

— ⛺️ —

Vic just lets his head bob in an agreement. Conversation had never really been either of their strong suits - it’s why Vic had so often kept to himself as a kid and Caleb had solved all of his problems with his fists. Being a little better at conversation might’ve made Vic’s life a little easier over the years, but alas. He wasn’t gifted with even selective charisma like Caleb was.

“I suppose it is,” he hums in agreement, tracing a thumb across the edge of his glass thoughtfully. It was almost difficult to recall the days now when Vic had been alone out there, fighting to survive without anyone else there to help - or hurt. As much as he acted like he was better off on his own he knew that it couldn’t really be true. Humans were not made to live or survive alone. 

A little boredom couldn’t be outweighed by the alternatives, even in his mind.

“Well you know how interesting I find solar…grids,” Vic chuckles. They were lucky to have such a reliable means of power - and lucky to have people like Caleb who could maintain it. But still. 

“Any day now,” he holds up his forearm. “But yeah, no complaints. Nothing to worry about. What about you, champ? How’s that punching hand of yours?” 

The solar grids themselves aren't all that interesting. They convert sunlight into power - at the general first glance that's about as interesting as it can get. It's the wiring behind it. All of the pieces needed to maintain them and keep them running. The 'how' when it comes to the conversion into electricity is also interesting, but that comes from reading up about them. Helps to bring an understanding about why each part is needed.

"Depending on how new these ones are based on when they were manufactured, they can last the town for twenty or so years with the right kind of maintenance. Well, technically they'll produce power beyond that scope of time." Caleb brings the beer to his mouth for a generous swig. He knows this is probably boring information, but hey, it's something to talk about. "They can last upwards of sixty or so years, it's just their output starts to decline after twenty five. You know, product depreciation and such. Doesn't count for much when production and money doesn't matter anymore."

But enough about that.

Good thing Vic kept that cast on while they were out on that run. Muscle atrophy might have made it too fragile to go unguarded into such a physically intensive job. Now he can rest after it's taken. At the mention of his hand he lifts it, curls his fingers and then uncurls them thoughtfully. They don't hurt like they did right after, and there's only some bruising on the knuckle where it looks as if some blood vessels popped.