"Death is sometimes kinder than love."

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Gyro was dead, killed in the fight with Valentine. That was bad enough, but ever since Gyro died, something changed between you and Johnny. You tried to tell yourself that he was just in mourning. He'd just lost a dear friend (one of the only friends he had, other than you) so it was only natural that he'd be in a bad place mentally. Johnny had been known to go through depressive phases on occasion, especially if things were going badly. Though for the last few days, you couldn't help but feel that Johnny was not dealing with the death of his friend very well. You missed Gyro, too, but Johnny was acting like a completely different person.

During the day he was cold towards you and mostly unresponsive. When he did speak to you it was only to harshly reprimand you as if you were a misbehaving child. If you fell behind, even slightly, he would turn back at you and shout,

"Keep pace with me, dammit! Stop falling behind!"

If you tried to start a conversation with him, he would tell you,

"Will you keep quiet? Just stay alert for anything fishy. We can't afford to be ambushed out here."

After a while the two of you hardly said anything to each other. It hurt when Johnny spoke to you like that. It made you feel unwanted. It made you feel like he didn't even view you as a friend anymore. You were beginning to wonder if you were nothing more than an annoyance and a burden to him. At least until the sun set.

Whenever the two of you set up camp, Johnny never left your side. If you went to gather firewood, Johnny was right there with you. If you tried to go somewhere his wheelchair couldn't reach, you were told to stop wandering off and stay close. No matter what, he would not leave you alone. This included setting up camp. Only one tent would be used and you were sharing it. No exceptions. It didn't matter if you were uncomfortable with the idea or not.

Once it was fully nighttime and you were laying on your respective sleeping bags side by side, a little bit of the old Johnny would come out. While you lay there with your eyes closed, Johnny would sob and tell you he was sorry for how he treated you earlier. He would tell you that he missed Gyro and just couldn't stand the thought of the same thing happening to you. You were the only thing in the world he had left. Part of you thought it was sweet that he was worried for you, but the more logical part of you knew that something was wrong with Johnny. You would drift off to sleep listening to Johnny heartbreakingly cry himself to sleep. It wasn't too unusual to wake up with one of Johnny's arms flung across you in a grip of steel while he curled tightly against you as if you were the only thing keeping him anchored to reality. Then in the morning the cycle would start over with Johnny being mean and snappish with you again. His constant mood swings were beginning to affect your own mental state. You weren't sure how much longer you could hold out like this.

Then there was the fact that he refused to let you anywhere near the map. At some point you began to notice that the trail you were taking was rough and untamed. There was very definitely a path but it looked as if no one had traveled through there in years. Did this mean that you two were in the lead in the race? But why would the race officials have you travel down a path that was so overgrown and narrow? Something wasn't adding up here. You thought about mentioning this to Johnny, but you really didn't want him to bite your head off for daring to break the silence again.

After about 3 or 4 hours of travel, you and Johnny rode up to a ramshackle looking cabin nestled in an overgrown, wooded area off to the left side of the path. Johnny led you and your horse to a shed that seemed to serve as a makeshift stable. You noticed an outhouse as you passed by. That meant the place wasn't likely to have indoor plumbing. Great. Just fantastic. There was a water pump and a well though. After getting your horse settled in the "stable", you walked over to the well and peered inside. It looked like it had water inside it, so that was relief. Walking over to the water pump you gave the lever a few pushes. The pump made a groaning sound before rusty, muddy water began gushing forth. Well, you had water at least, but it looked like you'd have to boil the hell out of it before it was usable.

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