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Description
"Woof! Woof woof! Woof! Woof woof woof!". Scott could almost feel Alison's glare pin them down as he, Jack and Alison were barking at soldiers on other boats. Jack, of course, had started it. Alison was usually rather pleasant and loved Jacks sense of humour, even when it did go overboard. But while he, Jack and Carrie were enjoying being on the' L9034 La Grandière landing ship tank' and riding the blue waves, Alison was riding the red one. Carrie mentioned she was surfing it during the time at the hospital, so she was good for another couple of weeks. Alison told her to fuck off when she said this. It also didn't help when Jack recommended "taking the dirt road home". For Jack's sake, he hoped they were heading to a bomb shelter.
The captain had mentioned at breakfast yesterday that the area they were heading in was not friendly for giant military warships, so they were heading via several types of landing boats taking in supplies. It wasn't exactly conventional to have the several types of craft, but neither was a massive arms shipment to south America. It wasn't just France, most of Europe was heading in as this was where the 'threat' had landed, and swarmed on the Mexican borders to attack North America. It was like a twisted game of Risk, and they had a cheat code. Naturally America needed backing up, and they had all the nukes. If they found a way to shoot them up at the spaceships without them being them shot down then they would come in handy. Scott still thought they'd take out more 'threats' if they just sent up Alison.

"So why are we calling them 'threats' now?" The question was asked after the barking stopped.
"Well there is a professional way of saying it. But the grit of it is because saying 'aliens' sounds fucking ridiculous." Hardy replied to Carrie.
"Well it's altogether ridiculous. I mean come on, aliens! Not to mention all that nonsense about the homo studs or whatever they're called." Scott couldn't help but laugh a little.
"Homa'tsa. And may I remind you that's technically racist."
"Against the race that's trying to kill us? I apologize." Scott happily observed this. He knew whatever argument Hardy could make was going to be immediately shot down. Like a convoy of planes.
"I'm just saying, if it seems ridiculous to you then it is rather racist. The whole concept does seem ridiculous to you, their names, language, clothing, appearance, but to them it's who they are. Now I'm guessing you're thinking it's because it seems like something from a work of fiction-"
"It is something from a work of fiction. Several works of -"
"The fiction genre of aliens originates FROM them. They landed in Roswell all those years ago and they're what people base their fiction upon. They've kept a great big cryogenic housing station on the moon for half a century - and before you interrupt me, they created cryogenics, don' t pull the fiction argument -and now they've run out of time. The reason why the stories of alien invasion have been around is because one has been impending for over seventy years. Hell, negotiations have been tried for over sixty and it's still been inevitable."
"Politicians." Scott nodded in agreement to that statement.
"Thanks for your input Alison. But yeah, politics. There are some things that will always remain universal. Such as culture." Hardy said, returning to his point, "You believe they are defined by being Aliens. What you forget is they have all the various cultures, countries, languages etc just like us. You think everyone wears the robes the TV guy was wearing? The one speaking was essentially the equivalent to an American. Of course there is the fact that the planet has become, in effect, one collective and essentially communist state. The various cultures have still remained intact, but after several powers with similar interests in sacrificing some liberty for conservation, the planet became joined up. Not peacefully of course but still."
"Hold up, there was a war between them? The fucking hypocrites!"
"They did what they deemed necessary. Perhaps they were right. After a thousand years they had equality and a sustainable planet. Rebellions and uprisings were rare because equality was what they were taught and now is all they know. Their regime was also considerably stricter, but by fuck if they didn't get things done. The only reason why that ended was because their sun has begun the process of dying. They are a very, very old race, and as you can see from their amphibious anatomy their evolution reflects it. So does how far they've progressed."
"You're impressed by them" she said, her tone saturated with disdain.
"I admire how they operated. And I do have to see the parallel between them and us. The main difference was we never had the will to sacrifice so much for the bigger picture."
"Some would call it oppressive you know."
"Yes, it is. But how far have we got with democracy? Really, look at where we were. On a dying planet when so many other countries have been torn apart by war and famine. I'm not saying it was right, but I'm saying it may have been what was needed, you could justify it."
"and the war? You care to justify that?"
"You think if the tables were turned we wouldn't do the same thing?"Carrie went silent. Her lips looked like they were going to shoot off, but she couldn't find an argument to load her mouth with.
"That's not to say it's right. If those billions died they would still have vast numbers of their kind spread across the universe. But they wouldn't just let those eight billion die would they? It's a fragment of a race or a race itself, but it's more of one kind than it is the other, and at the end of the day the other is more prone to self destruction." There was a long pause. Scott had to admit, he had a point. But as Hardy said, there was no justification when it came to genocide. Especially when he heard from the soldiers France had been attacked. Especially when the Eiffel tower had fallen.

They were now on the jeep, driving along the coast of Brazil. Or what was left of it. What they were driving along was an ash-ridden landscape, barely recognizable as a city. It was like hells little Vegas, except less lights.
"Welcome to São Luís, capital of Maranhão."
"You mean what's left of it" Scott said despondently.
"I thought you said we were going to Brazil" Alison asked, a frustrated tone stitched in her voice.
"Maranhão's a Brazilian state. We basically bee-line it most of the way and curve off into Argentina and into Chile. Easier that way coz we only have to deal with one border. At some point we will have to cross the river Grande but other than that we ought to be fine."
"I thought all borders were open anyway."
"Not literally, it just means united nations are easier with checks, you can't just go straight through. Hey, be glad we aren't in China."
"What about the threats?"
"All pushing north. America is one of the bigger threats. We'll be fine as long as we keep heading south. Oh yeah, at some point we'll need to buy you lot some coats, it's about to get a lot colder."
"Wait wait wait, are you trying to tell us we're heading to the arctic?"
"Antarctic. Carrie did mention you were awful at geography. Specifically we're going to Alexander Island. There's an end of the world party and it's an open invite."
"Seriously? Holy shit... We're gonna see penguins!" Jack said excitedly.
"Wait, hang on, how can it be so open then? You'd think it would be saved for important people".
"And at what point have you ever been unimportant? We only got in coz we're your posse" Jack said with a cheery sweetness as he kissed her nose. Alison suddenly looked very smitten, and for a moment hopped off the cotton surfboard. True love, Scott thought. It's just showing off. He probably was thinking this because not only did he have to sit next to the lovebirds, he could only see the back of Carries head. It had been two days and apparently the new perspective of her was still clinging on. Like a leech. "I'd like to ride in the boot if that's o.k."
Hardy chuckled. "We have a long way to go, perhaps you can wait to get in when we make a pit stop. Anyway you are right, it was reserved for important people But this facility was created by a private company and so spots were reserved to people who could pay for it. Unfortunately these people are the idiots who thought it would be decided that despite the warning that the sips had targeted aircraft, they'd go for it anyway. Some of these idiots are the people you can thank for that eye-patch Scott. And now half the spots have freed up because of it."
"Why are they targeting aircraft?" Scott said trying to phase past the fact that he wish those people had survived so could kill them himself.
"Nukes and missiles have a chance of taking them down, and aircraft makes organization a lot faster, giving us an actual chance. Without aircraft, everything is a lot slower. That won't stop me from getting you lot there though. It also won't stop me from getting your families, don't you worry."
There was a parade of smiles all around, Scott could see all around that people really had faith that Hardy would do this, and could do this. Scott felt the same way. Barely knowing him for a week, he had saved his life, took down half a hospital, seriously risked conviction and had gone AWOL just to save four uni students he had just met. His first impression of Hardy was way off. Hardy began to talk again, talking about the fact that they had to leave the hospital early because while it was a general secret, it would probably leak out soon so they had to assure a spot. But Scott stopped him.

"What's your name? Your first name?"
"Sorry?" Hardy asked, surprised.
"You never told us. Come on, what's your name?"
Hardy sighed neutrally. "Reginald."
"Reggie?" Jack shouted out.
"I was afraid of that" Hardy said in mock dejectedness.
"Jack, shut up for a second" Scott said, politely as possible, "Reginald. I'm alive because of you. We're all alive, because of you. We are only safe, because of you."
"Scott, you don't have-"
"Quiet. You are one of the craziest people I've ever met. You knew us for what, two days? And yet you gave up everything so easily just to help us. I know Jack saved you and your guys but this clearly goes beyond repaying us, you've done that ten times over. "
"Well I didn't have anything else to do-"
"Again, quiet." There was a slight pause as Scott looked for the right words. They found him. "You're a good man Reginald. A heart as big as the Barras and a good morphine supply. Thank you, sincerely." There was a round of thanks from all of them. A pause.
"You are very welcome. Besides, who need a savings account anyway? It's the end of the world!" he said in celebration. This was met with applause and woops. Yup. They had gone nuts. "Oh yeah, that reminds me" he said as he fumbled in the pocket of his jeans, which he had combined with a red hoodie, "here." He threw Scott a small orange bottle, full of pills. "I'm getting you off the morphine, I trust your wounds have healed sufficiently."
"I should be fine with these, but morphine would be more potent."
"Well I'm no expert with medicine but I know morphine can be addictive, so just in case."
"I wouldn't worry about addiction."
"I know, I'm being paranoid-"
"On the contrary, you're probably right. But I'm Scottish, a morphine addiction is perfectly natural. Besides, when we get addictions, we do it right. Tremors, torn apart families, the works."
"Yeah! SCOTLAND!" Jack yelled out.
"Oh yeah, I have to ask, is 'big as the Barras' an actual Scottish phrase?"he asked curiously.
"No, but neither is 'slutbunker'. Jack just came up with it to sound more Scottish around the English."
"Makes sense."
"Ya don't have to worry aboot it lad" Jack said in his ridiculous put-on accent, "yer alright fer an English man. Ya dance well for one too."
"Yes well," Hardy replied in a put on posh accent, "you my dear boy seem to suffer from the unfortunate predisposition of 'dancing like a white guy'. Such as shame".
"The unfortunate thing is your accent isn't that different to your regular one" Scott said.
"Bad side effect from living with a high end military family in upper London."
Scott smiled in curiosity. Major General Hardy was opening up, chapter one: Reggie.

Several days on, they were in Chile. He didn't know how many exactly, since they all knew how to drive they didn't stop except for fuel and food and took shifts driving, so all the days just blurred into one extremely long one. He guessed it had been around a week. Fortunately the saga was soon coming to an end as they only had one last day to go after this, so they would arrive at the hotel Finnis Terrae for one fairly luxurious stay. It was amazing how the world kept spinning even when it was being hammered by fire. Carrie had just finished her shift of driving and Jack was at the wheel. Hardy was sleeping, Alison was talking to her parents over the phone, Carrie was trying to sleep and Scott, knowing who was at the wheel, was preparing to hold on for dear life. But he was also distracted by a headache that kept circling around, and he had taken his limit on the painkillers.
"You o.k.?" Carrie asked, clearly noticing Scott rubbing his temples.
"Fine, just headaches. They've been flipping on and off since France, but they were really mild before. Seem to have gotten worse lately, but it's probably just a tumour."
"O.k. then" Carrie replied casually.
"It's more likely to do with your concussion in Sheffield being followed by me punching your lights out. Taking you off the morphine has probably made it more noticeable" Hardy said, eyes still closed.
"Interesting... give me my fucking morphine please?"
"Won't stop you from dying of a brain haemorrhage" Jack piped up.
"Gee, thanks."
"Quit being so selfish Scott, others are in pain too. Hey Carrie, are your nipples feeling better now?"
Hardy and Jack were chuckling in harmony. A single frown was canvassed over Scott and Carrie's faces. At first neither of them responded, then Scott said that Jack couldn't talk, "I'm surprised your dick didn't fall when you tried to piss, considering your week on the ship 'cloud nine' with Alison."
"We date, we're supposed to fuck when we're bored. You and Carrie are friends, slut-bunker."
"Yeah but we did twice and Carrie had the post-fuck pills. How's Alison not preggo?"
"Guys, can you keep it down please? Trying to talk to my mum " Alison requested politely with her palm smothering the phone (thank god the painters had left). "Also, Scott, sweetie, I got an IUD. Oh and if you wanna call your family afterwards just ask" she said.
"Thanks, but I'm good."
"Really?" asked Carrie, surprised, "You haven't spoken to them in ages. Hell, not since before this began as far as I know. Don't you want to speak to them?"
"I can't. My phone went with the ship and I can't even remember the number. Jacks parents are with yours and Alison's, he told me mum and Julie aren't with them. They called you on the ship, right?"
"They called your phone, I answered...I'm sorry Scott..."
"It's fine. They'll be fine. There's nothing to say otherwise, after all Norway's fine."
"So it's all fine? perfectly fine? a hundred percent fine?" Scott chuckled.
"I can't talk to my family, I'm allowed a limited vocabulary." He wasn't worried about their safety, only that they would worry about him. The pain of missing him did have a tight tie round his chest during a dull night, but he wasn't worried about them. Much. "Hey, you mind if we switch topics?"
"Yeah, that's fine..." the silence echoed through the sound of the humming engine before Carrie finally pulled a out question. "Back on the ship, when you said it was me breaking you in that saved you from your own anger. I thought that you bottled your anger after Lucy dumped your sorry arse."
"Well thanks for putting it so gently. And yeah, you're right, sort of."
"Sorry, but what?"
"Look, I did realize I need to change after the break up, but your yelling was what motivated me."
"Well then, I'm glad I helped."
"Me too. Even though at the time you just thoroughly pissed me off."
"I solved your problem didn't I?"
"Of course you did. I'm glad you did, and I'm glad you piss people off to get the message across, it helps. It is ironic though, considering everyone thinks you and Jack are one mind."
"We are, but Jack doesn't have to put up with PMS" she yawned.
"Heh, fair enough." For a few moments there was silence as Scott stared outside. He couldn't bear to look at her, the sensation of his stomach crushing in on itself like a black hole popping up in the middle of a blazing star wasn't the most comfortable one in the world.

How did she do it? Whenever he thought of Carrie he thought of that cliff, getting hammered and a stream of yelling. Now he saw her next to their tiny chubby baby, watching some cartoon show as he did the ironing and washing. They were running up a familiar hill he had never seen before, with some ginger toddler holding his hand, a total stranger who was everything to him. He was looking at the perfect life. His perfect life. It was horrible. And just when things couldn't get more wonderfully agonizing, she delivered one final blow. He felt her soft skin shove down on him, her silky hair claw his neck. She had fallen sound asleep, and she had fallen asleep on him. He could have fallen apart right there and then. But his idiocy saved him. He had hope. Hardly beneficial whatsoever, but did well for the short term. The whole week they had been flirting, and not just jokingly, so he persuaded himself. And now she was sleeping on his shoulder. She could've fallen asleep on Alison's massive chest, that was she did on most car journeys. Hell, it was what most people did on the car journeys. Even he had done it (until he found out about Jacks feelings for her). But no. She chose him. He remembered hearing about something where if a woman has sex with a man after a display of masculinity, she would get the impression she was in love. Now he was really happy he beat up the frog. He was also tired.
A bad idea. To hell with it he thought. Her skull was a stone floor, but nothing else had ever been so comfortable to rest his head on. Truly, it was hardly beneficial whatsoever.
But being content was overrated.

Description
"Woof! Woof woof! Woof! Woof woof woof!". Scott could almost feel Alison's glare pin them down as he, Jack and Alison were barking at soldiers on other boats. Jack, of course, had started it. Alison was usually rather pleasant and loved Jacks sense of humour, even when it did go overboard. But while he, Jack and Carrie were enjoying being on the' L9034 La Grandière landing ship tank' and riding the blue waves, Alison was riding the red one. Carrie mentioned she was surfing it during the time at the hospital, so she was good for another couple of weeks. Alison told her to fuck off when she said this. It also didn't help when Jack recommended "taking the dirt road home". For Jack's sake, he hoped they were heading to a bomb shelter.
The captain had mentioned at breakfast yesterday that the area they were heading in was not friendly for giant military warships, so they were heading via several types of landing boats taking in supplies. It wasn't exactly conventional to have the several types of craft, but neither was a massive arms shipment to south America. It wasn't just France, most of Europe was heading in as this was where the 'threat' had landed, and swarmed on the Mexican borders to attack North America. It was like a twisted game of Risk, and they had a cheat code. Naturally America needed backing up, and they had all the nukes. If they found a way to shoot them up at the spaceships without them being them shot down then they would come in handy. Scott still thought they'd take out more 'threats' if they just sent up Alison.

"So why are we calling them 'threats' now?" The question was asked after the barking stopped.
"Well there is a professional way of saying it. But the grit of it is because saying 'aliens' sounds fucking ridiculous." Hardy replied to Carrie.
"Well it's altogether ridiculous. I mean come on, aliens! Not to mention all that nonsense about the homo studs or whatever they're called." Scott couldn't help but laugh a little.
"Homa'tsa. And may I remind you that's technically racist."
"Against the race that's trying to kill us? I apologize." Scott happily observed this. He knew whatever argument Hardy could make was going to be immediately shot down. Like a convoy of planes.
"I'm just saying, if it seems ridiculous to you then it is rather racist. The whole concept does seem ridiculous to you, their names, language, clothing, appearance, but to them it's who they are. Now I'm guessing you're thinking it's because it seems like something from a work of fiction-"
"It is something from a work of fiction. Several works of -"
"The fiction genre of aliens originates FROM them. They landed in Roswell all those years ago and they're what people base their fiction upon. They've kept a great big cryogenic housing station on the moon for half a century - and before you interrupt me, they created cryogenics, don' t pull the fiction argument -and now they've run out of time. The reason why the stories of alien invasion have been around is because one has been impending for over seventy years. Hell, negotiations have been tried for over sixty and it's still been inevitable."
"Politicians." Scott nodded in agreement to that statement.
"Thanks for your input Alison. But yeah, politics. There are some things that will always remain universal. Such as culture." Hardy said, returning to his point, "You believe they are defined by being Aliens. What you forget is they have all the various cultures, countries, languages etc just like us. You think everyone wears the robes the TV guy was wearing? The one speaking was essentially the equivalent to an American. Of course there is the fact that the planet has become, in effect, one collective and essentially communist state. The various cultures have still remained intact, but after several powers with similar interests in sacrificing some liberty for conservation, the planet became joined up. Not peacefully of course but still."
"Hold up, there was a war between them? The fucking hypocrites!"
"They did what they deemed necessary. Perhaps they were right. After a thousand years they had equality and a sustainable planet. Rebellions and uprisings were rare because equality was what they were taught and now is all they know. Their regime was also considerably stricter, but by fuck if they didn't get things done. The only reason why that ended was because their sun has begun the process of dying. They are a very, very old race, and as you can see from their amphibious anatomy their evolution reflects it. So does how far they've progressed."
"You're impressed by them" she said, her tone saturated with disdain.
"I admire how they operated. And I do have to see the parallel between them and us. The main difference was we never had the will to sacrifice so much for the bigger picture."
"Some would call it oppressive you know."
"Yes, it is. But how far have we got with democracy? Really, look at where we were. On a dying planet when so many other countries have been torn apart by war and famine. I'm not saying it was right, but I'm saying it may have been what was needed, you could justify it."
"and the war? You care to justify that?"
"You think if the tables were turned we wouldn't do the same thing?"Carrie went silent. Her lips looked like they were going to shoot off, but she couldn't find an argument to load her mouth with.
"That's not to say it's right. If those billions died they would still have vast numbers of their kind spread across the universe. But they wouldn't just let those eight billion die would they? It's a fragment of a race or a race itself, but it's more of one kind than it is the other, and at the end of the day the other is more prone to self destruction." There was a long pause. Scott had to admit, he had a point. But as Hardy said, there was no justification when it came to genocide. Especially when he heard from the soldiers France had been attacked. Especially when the Eiffel tower had fallen.

They were now on the jeep, driving along the coast of Brazil. Or what was left of it. What they were driving along was an ash-ridden landscape, barely recognizable as a city. It was like hells little Vegas, except less lights.
"Welcome to São Luís, capital of Maranhão."
"You mean what's left of it" Scott said despondently.
"I thought you said we were going to Brazil" Alison asked, a frustrated tone stitched in her voice.
"Maranhão's a Brazilian state. We basically bee-line it most of the way and curve off into Argentina and into Chile. Easier that way coz we only have to deal with one border. At some point we will have to cross the river Grande but other than that we ought to be fine."
"I thought all borders were open anyway."
"Not literally, it just means united nations are easier with checks, you can't just go straight through. Hey, be glad we aren't in China."
"What about the threats?"
"All pushing north. America is one of the bigger threats. We'll be fine as long as we keep heading south. Oh yeah, at some point we'll need to buy you lot some coats, it's about to get a lot colder."
"Wait wait wait, are you trying to tell us we're heading to the arctic?"
"Antarctic. Carrie did mention you were awful at geography. Specifically we're going to Alexander Island. There's an end of the world party and it's an open invite."
"Seriously? Holy shit... We're gonna see penguins!" Jack said excitedly.
"Wait, hang on, how can it be so open then? You'd think it would be saved for important people".
"And at what point have you ever been unimportant? We only got in coz we're your posse" Jack said with a cheery sweetness as he kissed her nose. Alison suddenly looked very smitten, and for a moment hopped off the cotton surfboard. True love, Scott thought. It's just showing off. He probably was thinking this because not only did he have to sit next to the lovebirds, he could only see the back of Carries head. It had been two days and apparently the new perspective of her was still clinging on. Like a leech. "I'd like to ride in the boot if that's o.k."
Hardy chuckled. "We have a long way to go, perhaps you can wait to get in when we make a pit stop. Anyway you are right, it was reserved for important people But this facility was created by a private company and so spots were reserved to people who could pay for it. Unfortunately these people are the idiots who thought it would be decided that despite the warning that the sips had targeted aircraft, they'd go for it anyway. Some of these idiots are the people you can thank for that eye-patch Scott. And now half the spots have freed up because of it."
"Why are they targeting aircraft?" Scott said trying to phase past the fact that he wish those people had survived so could kill them himself.
"Nukes and missiles have a chance of taking them down, and aircraft makes organization a lot faster, giving us an actual chance. Without aircraft, everything is a lot slower. That won't stop me from getting you lot there though. It also won't stop me from getting your families, don't you worry."
There was a parade of smiles all around, Scott could see all around that people really had faith that Hardy would do this, and could do this. Scott felt the same way. Barely knowing him for a week, he had saved his life, took down half a hospital, seriously risked conviction and had gone AWOL just to save four uni students he had just met. His first impression of Hardy was way off. Hardy began to talk again, talking about the fact that they had to leave the hospital early because while it was a general secret, it would probably leak out soon so they had to assure a spot. But Scott stopped him.

"What's your name? Your first name?"
"Sorry?" Hardy asked, surprised.
"You never told us. Come on, what's your name?"
Hardy sighed neutrally. "Reginald."
"Reggie?" Jack shouted out.
"I was afraid of that" Hardy said in mock dejectedness.
"Jack, shut up for a second" Scott said, politely as possible, "Reginald. I'm alive because of you. We're all alive, because of you. We are only safe, because of you."
"Scott, you don't have-"
"Quiet. You are one of the craziest people I've ever met. You knew us for what, two days? And yet you gave up everything so easily just to help us. I know Jack saved you and your guys but this clearly goes beyond repaying us, you've done that ten times over. "
"Well I didn't have anything else to do-"
"Again, quiet." There was a slight pause as Scott looked for the right words. They found him. "You're a good man Reginald. A heart as big as the Barras and a good morphine supply. Thank you, sincerely." There was a round of thanks from all of them. A pause.
"You are very welcome. Besides, who need a savings account anyway? It's the end of the world!" he said in celebration. This was met with applause and woops. Yup. They had gone nuts. "Oh yeah, that reminds me" he said as he fumbled in the pocket of his jeans, which he had combined with a red hoodie, "here." He threw Scott a small orange bottle, full of pills. "I'm getting you off the morphine, I trust your wounds have healed sufficiently."
"I should be fine with these, but morphine would be more potent."
"Well I'm no expert with medicine but I know morphine can be addictive, so just in case."
"I wouldn't worry about addiction."
"I know, I'm being paranoid-"
"On the contrary, you're probably right. But I'm Scottish, a morphine addiction is perfectly natural. Besides, when we get addictions, we do it right. Tremors, torn apart families, the works."
"Yeah! SCOTLAND!" Jack yelled out.
"Oh yeah, I have to ask, is 'big as the Barras' an actual Scottish phrase?"he asked curiously.
"No, but neither is 'slutbunker'. Jack just came up with it to sound more Scottish around the English."
"Makes sense."
"Ya don't have to worry aboot it lad" Jack said in his ridiculous put-on accent, "yer alright fer an English man. Ya dance well for one too."
"Yes well," Hardy replied in a put on posh accent, "you my dear boy seem to suffer from the unfortunate predisposition of 'dancing like a white guy'. Such as shame".
"The unfortunate thing is your accent isn't that different to your regular one" Scott said.
"Bad side effect from living with a high end military family in upper London."
Scott smiled in curiosity. Major General Hardy was opening up, chapter one: Reggie.

Several days on, they were in Chile. He didn't know how many exactly, since they all knew how to drive they didn't stop except for fuel and food and took shifts driving, so all the days just blurred into one extremely long one. He guessed it had been around a week. Fortunately the saga was soon coming to an end as they only had one last day to go after this, so they would arrive at the hotel Finnis Terrae for one fairly luxurious stay. It was amazing how the world kept spinning even when it was being hammered by fire. Carrie had just finished her shift of driving and Jack was at the wheel. Hardy was sleeping, Alison was talking to her parents over the phone, Carrie was trying to sleep and Scott, knowing who was at the wheel, was preparing to hold on for dear life. But he was also distracted by a headache that kept circling around, and he had taken his limit on the painkillers.
"You o.k.?" Carrie asked, clearly noticing Scott rubbing his temples.
"Fine, just headaches. They've been flipping on and off since France, but they were really mild before. Seem to have gotten worse lately, but it's probably just a tumour."
"O.k. then" Carrie replied casually.
"It's more likely to do with your concussion in Sheffield being followed by me punching your lights out. Taking you off the morphine has probably made it more noticeable" Hardy said, eyes still closed.
"Interesting... give me my fucking morphine please?"
"Won't stop you from dying of a brain haemorrhage" Jack piped up.
"Gee, thanks."
"Quit being so selfish Scott, others are in pain too. Hey Carrie, are your nipples feeling better now?"
Hardy and Jack were chuckling in harmony. A single frown was canvassed over Scott and Carrie's faces. At first neither of them responded, then Scott said that Jack couldn't talk, "I'm surprised your dick didn't fall when you tried to piss, considering your week on the ship 'cloud nine' with Alison."
"We date, we're supposed to fuck when we're bored. You and Carrie are friends, slut-bunker."
"Yeah but we did twice and Carrie had the post-fuck pills. How's Alison not preggo?"
"Guys, can you keep it down please? Trying to talk to my mum " Alison requested politely with her palm smothering the phone (thank god the painters had left). "Also, Scott, sweetie, I got an IUD. Oh and if you wanna call your family afterwards just ask" she said.
"Thanks, but I'm good."
"Really?" asked Carrie, surprised, "You haven't spoken to them in ages. Hell, not since before this began as far as I know. Don't you want to speak to them?"
"I can't. My phone went with the ship and I can't even remember the number. Jacks parents are with yours and Alison's, he told me mum and Julie aren't with them. They called you on the ship, right?"
"They called your phone, I answered...I'm sorry Scott..."
"It's fine. They'll be fine. There's nothing to say otherwise, after all Norway's fine."
"So it's all fine? perfectly fine? a hundred percent fine?" Scott chuckled.
"I can't talk to my family, I'm allowed a limited vocabulary." He wasn't worried about their safety, only that they would worry about him. The pain of missing him did have a tight tie round his chest during a dull night, but he wasn't worried about them. Much. "Hey, you mind if we switch topics?"
"Yeah, that's fine..." the silence echoed through the sound of the humming engine before Carrie finally pulled a out question. "Back on the ship, when you said it was me breaking you in that saved you from your own anger. I thought that you bottled your anger after Lucy dumped your sorry arse."
"Well thanks for putting it so gently. And yeah, you're right, sort of."
"Sorry, but what?"
"Look, I did realize I need to change after the break up, but your yelling was what motivated me."
"Well then, I'm glad I helped."
"Me too. Even though at the time you just thoroughly pissed me off."
"I solved your problem didn't I?"
"Of course you did. I'm glad you did, and I'm glad you piss people off to get the message across, it helps. It is ironic though, considering everyone thinks you and Jack are one mind."
"We are, but Jack doesn't have to put up with PMS" she yawned.
"Heh, fair enough." For a few moments there was silence as Scott stared outside. He couldn't bear to look at her, the sensation of his stomach crushing in on itself like a black hole popping up in the middle of a blazing star wasn't the most comfortable one in the world.

How did she do it? Whenever he thought of Carrie he thought of that cliff, getting hammered and a stream of yelling. Now he saw her next to their tiny chubby baby, watching some cartoon show as he did the ironing and washing. They were running up a familiar hill he had never seen before, with some ginger toddler holding his hand, a total stranger who was everything to him. He was looking at the perfect life. His perfect life. It was horrible. And just when things couldn't get more wonderfully agonizing, she delivered one final blow. He felt her soft skin shove down on him, her silky hair claw his neck. She had fallen sound asleep, and she had fallen asleep on him. He could have fallen apart right there and then. But his idiocy saved him. He had hope. Hardly beneficial whatsoever, but did well for the short term. The whole week they had been flirting, and not just jokingly, so he persuaded himself. And now she was sleeping on his shoulder. She could've fallen asleep on Alison's massive chest, that was she did on most car journeys. Hell, it was what most people did on the car journeys. Even he had done it (until he found out about Jacks feelings for her). But no. She chose him. He remembered hearing about something where if a woman has sex with a man after a display of masculinity, she would get the impression she was in love. Now he was really happy he beat up the frog. He was also tired.
A bad idea. To hell with it he thought. Her skull was a stone floor, but nothing else had ever been so comfortable to rest his head on. Truly, it was hardly beneficial whatsoever.
But being content was overrated.