1965-09-22 - Back in Business
Summary: Doug finally tracks down his old buddy Kevin to catch up
Related: None
Theme Song: None
douglas wither 

Wither has been working at Atomic under Jeb and has, finally left a letter he was scared to write but did for Doug apologizing for letting him down and disappointing him. Likewise, understanding if he didn't wish to associate with him after the last 10 months, but all the same thanks for being a good friend.

It's not an easy thing being something to be feared in spite of one's best intentions. Still he wasn't hard to find if one wasn't afraid of the abandoned tunnels and chance encounters with Morlocks. The abandoned train station has started to become transformed as a garden of wire manikins started to appear and sculptures made out of soldered metal looking more familiar followed. The smell of solder and burnt flux filled the space a bit and there was also a small radio playing the Zombies on quiet volume. Kevin replied to the radio sitting at a work bench for lack of other conversation, "Yeah Ah know she ain't there. That's the way of it buddy."

It's a good hiding place. Or at least would be if it wasn't for all the art. The Morlocks were helpful — but Cypher is a better tracker than anyone would give him credit for anyway. He enters the subway station, and looks around, before he clears his throat, and knocks on one of the metal sculptures.

Wither looked up from where he was brushing bare hand over metal getting all of the organic bits to drop off of it like, well it was just dust now. It's an odd skill to buff something a bit via field of entropy really. His hand went out to protect himself but lowered seeing Doug. This he hadn't planned on and just as suddenly ease returned, "Doug, y'all are a sight for sore eyes. It's good t'see you." He paused and looked urned lifting a hand, "Ah'd show you around but… this is almost all of it."

Douglas looks around, and wrinkles his nose. "This place is a shithole." He decides, finally, before he crosses his arms and crosses his feet at the ankles. "Is this what you're reduced to, Ford? Living in this shit-heap hole in the ground waiting for someone to find you and kill you? Pathetic, man… pretty pathetic."

Wither took a deep breath and looked around nodding. "Yeaaaaah it's pretty… terrible. But, ya know, when your'e apparently a felon for shit that ain't y'all's fault? Sometimes… bein lonely is better than being gettin the dirty looks from the neighbors." His jaw tightened with some anger in it before letting it go. "Better than goin back to the school."

Doug tilts his head and says "And you didn't go to Jay and his posse for help?" Notice he doesn't include himself as part of that group. "Some of them are pretty influential… they could've helped you." He cats a flat stare at Kevin. "Or why wouldn't you go back to the school, hm?"

Wither shrugged, "Dunno where I stand with Jay. I tried to reach out to Sammy but I didn't hear back. Justin's on the west coast right now." He pointed to the small coffee pot, plastic and glass plugged in. "Coffee if you want it." Green eyes looked over Doug curious, concerned. A faint smirk came on his face, "New Years who you /think/ told me t'go to the FBI? Sayin we Mutants have to work /with/ the government to be more 'accepted'. Well wasn't exactly their ass on the line was it? Did they go to my trial? Not. even. a one." he sucked in his cheeks tightening his jaw. He took a moment to compose himself and looked around scanning the platform. "Yeah… this place is a shithole, but no one here's stabbed me in the back neither." He paused and offered letting his frustration ebb slightly, "If you're here on behalf of the Professor? Tell em it's a poor choice t' use my pals. If y'a in't.? well… it's still good t' see you. How you been anyways. Jeb said somethin about you not feelin well but ya look alright."

"I don't know where the hell Sam went and I don't care." Doug says, before he walks inside. "Sure, I'd love some coffee." Then he tilts his head, and looks at Wither, before he says, "Well, you know." He flexes his gloved fingers. "Jay got another boyfriend, and he's a piece of shit, and I suddenly had a little bit of illumination about the way the world workss, so I walked. I've got plans, Kevin. It's gonna get messy."

Wither tilted his head and frowned, "Awww man, I'm sorry." He paused looking bewildered, "That don' sound like Jay. Goes t'show what I know about people." He moved over to the ceramic coffee mugs and poured a cup for Doug and refilled his. It was one of the few things that was broken down enough he could consume it wihtout it tasting like dirt. Small mercies, and heeeee loved it.

He set the cup down for Doug to pick up careful "Doug," How did he tell him this. Well as Doug wasn't on teh list of people that typically tripped the artits moody short-fuse he tried to find a tactful way to put it, "Life's always been messy. Ya just changing the why. Sometimes dumpin the puzzle pieces out of the box is the only way t'get the picture t' go together man. One day at a time. I'm sorry they did ya dirty though. That ain't alright."

"They're all just waiting to die like emaciated poets." Doug says, as he picks up his coffee, and he inhales the steam off it before he tastes it, and grimaces, "You take it strong." He says, before he gives Kevin a curious look. "It's fine. I'll make them a better world whether they want one or not. Even that prick, Elmo."

Wither shook his head offering, "I don't know an Elmo. I take it that's the guy that dogged ya?" At teh critique of his coffee that grin came easy without any other cares in the world; reprieve in old banter, "Well… yeah when the world tastes like shit man y'all gotta spice it up where you can" He cosidered this and thought about the words, "A lot of effort to put out there. I won't say don't but…. why? Just tired of things being shitty and people like you an me bending over backwards to make them happy so they can look down o us oooor is this a way totry an' wi Jay's attention back, or this t'spite em to show em it was wrog to wander off?"

Doug shakes his head. "No, he's convinced he'll fix me and put me back the way I was, but he just doesn't get it. I'm better this way." He laces his fingers together, and then says, "Jesus christ, kid. Come with me, we'll get out of here. I've got plans."

Wither looked up and around blinking and back to Doug arching an eyebrow, "You want me? To go with you?" Blink blink. "I don't got much tying me down man." the grin came back thinking of a better time, "Remember that time we took a bunch of us over t'Coney Island. Man… Things coulda been so good but people jsut… like t'ruin everything beautiful I guess." He swirled his coffee and thought about it though it didn't take very long, "Yeah, alright. I mean y'all always been good t'me. Least I can do. So long as we get to sing along with the radio. Best part of a road trip, man."

Doug sighs, and then he moves to pat Kevin on his clothed shoulder. "You'll see, man. You'll see. Pack up your stuff Kevin, and let's get the hell out of here." He looks around at the sculptures. "Let's just… leave these. Something for people to talk about."

Wither smiled, letting it reach those green eyes that were so happy to just have a friend back he didn't really question the cost or the map of the road ahead of him. "Hey, you always been there for me, Doug. I'm glad I can repay that for ya." He was careful to keep the bare part of his limbs away from Doug but he was one of the few people he trusted to be mindful of where his limbs were and not get all cocky and reckless like Sam reliably was. He wandered over and grabbed his hoodie. Everything he owned fit into a nylon duffelbag these days. He probably had stuff at the school still but he wasn't ready to really confront them yet. Not everyone was bad, but this was familiar. Sliding gloves on he set the notebook out and scribbled a note to leave with a hunk of scrap metal on it nothing only: F- Helping an old friend. Coming back. -Kev

"Come on kid. Let's go change the world." Doug says, waiting for Kevin to follow him, before he leaves.

Wither grabbed his bag andzipped his hoodie up; navy blue, synthetic. Kevinable. With the gloves on he squeezed Doug on the shoulder, "Good t'have you back."

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