|| SPEED IS KEY ||

   you have nothing left to give and yet you would give away your HEART and SOUL to someone in need.  

                  Don’t MATTER what I said. Reavers don’t leave NO SURVIVORS.

Reavers ain’t men. Reavers ain’t men. Reavers ain’t men. Reavers ain’t men. Reavers ain’t men. Reavers ain’t men. Reavers ain’t men. Reavers ain’t men. Reavers ain’t men. Reavers ain’t men. Reavers ain’t men. Reavers ain’t men. Reavers ain’t men. Reavers ain’t men. Reavers ain’t men.

                                                ❝  Sex. Muscle. Humor. Thuggery. Jayne. ❞

                           I AM A PROFESSIONAL NERD.

            After he managed to shove the woman invading his personal space away, Kit’s uncertainty continued to build with every step as he walked further into the common room, disturbed by the sight of people surrounding him on all sides. The strains of crackling music were fed out by the turntable playing, the wintry sunlight cutting in through the barred windows casting a cold haze over everything. They were other patients sitting down, gathered at small tables together, a woman dancing with her beady stare trained on his. The high pitched, harmonized voices of French women singing provided an eerily upbeat backdrop. Kit uttered in a quiet fit of frustration to himself,  ❛ I can’t take it ❜ 

            If it weren’t for the male sitting on the couch by himself next to the music, Kit would have tried to stop it from playing. Instead, he only went so far until his attention was snatched up entirely and he was blinking brown eyes at another patient. Kit’s footfalls ceased, his neck slowly turning as the weight of his gaze settled on another male with a head full of gray hair. It wasn’t the gray hair that stunned him but the face that went with it. Confusion began to form. It crowded his thoughts, until one emerged and took firm root. No matter what anyone told him, no matter what anyone said, he had to hold onto the truth. The truth was all Kit had, his claim to his sanity a testament to the strength of his will. They could strap him down to a bed, inject his veins with a wave of drugs, smack him around until he bruised, but his innocence in the face of everything he suffered couldn’t be beat. Nor would he let it be. He refused.

            Except seeing another guy in here with a face similar to his was enough to give anyone whiplash. Kit wasn’t insane, he wasn’t, but he couldn’t shake the sight as he sank down into the sofa cushions across from him and stared. Something in the poison they gave him through those thin, silver needles causing him to hallucinate, or was there really a man cooped up in Briarcliff all this time that looked almost exactly like Kit — but he never knew about until now?

                     The voice then dragged him back to reality and dark eyes stared up at           his OWN almost black ones? Silver curls fell to the side as Peter tilted his head, carefully observing the newbie. For the first time, he fully saw the man’s face, the eyebrows that were so much darker than his own, but everything else looked as if it was ripped out of Peter’s face. But it was different, subtle lay the mistakes hidden in the details like the dark circles under the other man’s eyes. At least, Peter hoped there were differences because at the moment he only saw the similarities and they scared him. How many crazy people looked alike? ( No no, everybody else was just so SLOW. Peter wasn’t crazy. ) Squirming in his seat, he tried to bring some distance between himself and the man, before he finally spoke up.

             The sky was sluggish and gray, and other than the odd customer needing their gas pumped every couple of hours Kit was at the garage by himself all day. The pitter patter of rain started falling down on the roof in the late afternoon before turning to a slick and steady downpour, the sound accompanied by the smooth, crooning lyrics to There Goes My Baby by The Drifters. Even with no one for company he kept himself busy, jamming to music while he worked. Kit was working on an automobile repair when he pulled out from underneath the car he was working on, dabs of oil tinting his brown hair and the white tee underneath his unbuttoned, navi uniform shirt — only to realize he wasn’t alone. His initial look of surprise was replaced by the heft of a smile as he reached over and gave his hands a strong wipe with a soiled rag. Out in the country everybody knew everybody, so it was pretty much on sight one could tell when another wasn’t from around here. About the only time Kit was able to meet a new face was at his job while travelers came through town.

            ❛ What can I do for you today… ❜ Kit proceeded to climb to his feet, evening their gazes cordially; he took a brief moment to glance behind the newcomer in order to check for a car. He didn’t see one in his line of view, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. ❛ Sir? ❜