MY HEART IS A GHOST TOWN.

        when she doesn’t, he takes another puff, exhaling away from her the next time. his eyes stay on her though, narrowed in curiosity. well, seems like someone’s senses have returned to her now that her feet are on solid ground. in fact, she seems almost embarrassed herself or at least aware she overreacted. at least as far as lashing out at him. interesting.

not that it explains why, after twenty years in the wasteland, she's never bothered to fill that gap in her survival skills, but the roots of her fear are none of his business.

“ would it really matter if i'd told you? ” she asks, gesturing limply around them. “ no one actually expects a bridge to crumble underneath them, and, like you said, there was no other way around. ” she holds back that she can't imagine him jumping in after her, anyway. who knows how fast that current really is? or what lurks beneath it? she shudders at the thought. she doesn't want to drown, but she certainly wouldn't want to damn anyone to that fate alongside her.

her expression settles into a softer look, half-pleading for understanding.

        if that’s it, she’s not alone. he’s surprised at himself, too. but despite their disagreements, despite them butting heads so often, he doesn’t want to see her hurt or dead. and not just because she's useful. on a good day at least.

        on a bad day, though, like right now, she makes wanting to help her or keep her around very difficult. there's a nagging voice in the back of his head pointing out that he's the same way, but he does his best to ignore it, to quiet it. and her snapping at him does a great job at drowning that voice out.

        "if you're so fuckin' eager to get yourself killed, why don't you just turn around right here and i can put you outta your misery, huh?" who in the wasteland hasn't reached that point eventually? hasn't lost so much and gotten so fucking tired of it, they poke every bear they find to get someone to finish the job for them? he's been there. so many times. but things are different for him now. he has hope, for once, that he might actually find his family. and he can't keep sticking his neck out for her just because she thinks she's got nothing to live for.

guilt wraps around the anger in her chest, dropping into her stomach to form an aching knot as she watches him walk off. she glares down at the dead raider. “ stupid asshole. this is your fault. ” she aims a hard kick at his stomach before following after, lingering several paces behind.

she wrestles with each emotion as it comes up on the trek back, each flicker of remorse and quiet nudge of annoyance, reminding her that she shouldn't even care what he thinks, anyway. it's not like he had to come help her.

when they approach camp, all that remains of the fire are faint embers, the dog waiting nearby, the shape of her pricked ears just discernable in the low light. “ good girl, ” el murmurs, stooping down to pet her head and plopping down where she'd been sitting previously.

she hesitates for a few seconds, unable to gauge the ghoul's further willingness to help her, all things considered.