[for Tony]

[daretodo]

"Yoo-hoo, anybody home?"

I knock on some piece of machinery with a stick I picked up on the way over -- just enough to make thing rattle. I haven't stopped by the scrapyard in weeks, too wrapped up in my own grief to care about someone else's, and it's guilt that I could be so callous that brings me out here today.

Whatever hell I'm going through, Tony's right there with me. We've both suffered a loss. And maybe it'd just be easier to let that tear our friendship apart, but at the moment, he's the closest thing to family I've got on this island, and I'll be damned if I lose someone who's still here just because I can't bring myself to make the walk over. We've been through too much already for that.

"Tony?" I poke my head around the corner, lifting up my messenger bag with my free hand. "I brought snacks."

Comments

[notawastedlife]

"No fishing," Tony scolded, although he was watching Dope again, who was now attempting to sort some wrenches by size.

This meant that he'd dragged all the wrenches onto the ground, which wasn't exactly ideal. But again, he didn't have the heart to call him out on it.

"Stand by your convictions about... meeting ants."

[daretodo]

"We're not gonna meet ants," I say, rolling my eyes. "Probably. I don't know. I mean, I'd assume we're not gonna meet ants, but..."

But making assumptions about this place doesn't always go well for anyone.

"I got some schematics back at the house, based on published works the bookshelf was kind of to cough up after giving me a billion copies of that movie where we're priests. I'll bring 'em over next time. Thought you probably needed food more right now."

I'm really only eating to set a good example. God knows I haven't been doing too much better.