❝𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙙𝙖𝙢𝙢𝙞𝙩! 𝙄 𝙃𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙔𝙤𝙪! (𝙄 𝙎𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧, 𝙄 𝘿𝙤.)❞

✯III✯

          ➵❝We'll keep it running.❞

The clattering in the unfortunate gas station I called a base still hadn't let up, and no way I was getting involved in all that yelling, so I kept sitting on one of the old, rusted work tables. The yelling had slightly died down, but that was about it. 

I'd shifted to sit a bit closer to the Fab Four's trans am, casually watching Kobra work on the car, and he eventually started explaining things to me. I didn't understand, and I wasn't paying much attention at all, but I kept watching anyway, since there wasn't much else to do.

I slightly fidgeted with my blaster, but I eventually  set it down since I was starting to get paranoid that I'd accidentally fire at something. Ghoul was still going on with his little fit, now arguing with Poison while Jet was still trying to settle them down. The garage door was open, so the place didn't feel too cramped or stuffy-- it was getting chilly outside with the setting sun, but it came with pleasant breezes mixed with some of the heat still lingering in the desert.

The sound and company made me feel a bit weird, since I wasn't too used to having people around, and I started wondering if the place was too messy. It was an old mechanic's garage, yes, but there was extra boxes and crates with some cans of Pup and carbons, extra clothes, old towels and tarps, and cans of paint and bottles of spray paint-- and that was without mentioning the scraps of metal, spare tires and other tools left behind. Most of the things in here were things I found and brought back a while ago, but the tools, spare tires, plastic gallons and rags were things left behind. It surprised me that no one had raided the place yet when I first got there, but I wasn't complaining.

My little conversation with Kobra was still going, and he eventually looked over at me.

"You have no idea what I'm saying, do you?", he questioned.

"Yeah, no. Nah, I don't understand a word you've said this entire time. I don't know the first thing about cars or mechanic stuff.", I admitted with a shrug.

The blonde sighed and shook his head. "...we'll get you to figure that out soon."

I nodded. "I could probably use it. My bike's engine makes weird sounds, it would be nice to know what it is."

"I could take a look at it for you?", he offered.

I glanced at my bike, parked and against one of the less crowded walls, then looked back and nodded. "If you don't mind... thanks."

After another short conversation, I went back to watching the other three who were still in a screaming match-- though it was more Ghoul and Poison than it was Jet. I raised an eyebrow in mild amusement. Ghoul was rattling on about different threats while pointing out some wrench, Poison stayed a good distance away from him, crossing his arms in what reminded me of a disappointed mom pose, and Jet was still trying to get them to calm down. It was a bit fun to watch, I'll admit.

I shifted where I sat, taking the radio from my waistband, turning it on but keeping the volume low enough so I wouldn't bother the others. I stayed focused on the small radio in my bandage wrapped hands. Sometimes I wonder why I wrap them like this-- my hands aren't hurt, I don't have burns or huge, ugly scars to cover, so why the bandages? When did I start wrapping them like this-- why?

'...weird. I can't remember. Maybe it's something I came up with to not get sunburned. Then again, I don't sunburn easily, but I am usually outside... so I guess it makes sense. Sorta.'

I shrugged and decided not to question myself further.

'...'

I looked up and at the others, mostly doing their own things. Except Ghoul, anyway.