Rise

Lies

"Dez, I'm telling you, she sabotaged our van," Trish tries to explain to the redhead for the umpteenth time. "We left her alone with it while we were getting supplies at the convenience store. The car was in good condition before. It wouldn't just die like that." She shifts her backpack straps around on her shoulders, the weight of the bag causing her immense discomfort. She had insisted that she needed everything she put in there, regardless of whether or not they were really all that necessary, and is now suffering the consequences.

"Trish, I think you're being ridiculous," Dez argues, frightened if he's honest with himself. Not at the idea of the blonde scientist lady being any threat to them, rather that Trish's paranoia would drive her over the edge. Every little action, every step Etta takes seems to set the curly-haired girl off.

Etta had now gone off alone to use the bushes, "allegedly" as Trish keeps insisting. She quiets her voice, worried the woman would be back any second. "We can't let her know we're onto her. Keep your voice down." She looks about herself, tense and on her toes. Etta is nowhere in sight, and that alone is enough to make the girl nervous.

"You mean we can't let her know you are onto her? 'Cause I'm not convinced." He pulls his lips slightly to side, shaking his head. Trish grumbles, something about him being too dense to see what's going on. He sighs heavily, wishing that he could find the right words – words to comfort her. To let her know that everything will be just fine, and that not every situation they encounter is a nightmare waiting to happen. That she can let herself trust again.

"Trish, just relax. I'm not going to let anything happen to you." He smiles down at her, lightly caressing her cheek with the side of his hand, happy with himself. That should soothe her, right?

He's never been so wrong.

"Excuse me?" she snaps at him, causing him to jerk his hand away. He stares at her, wide-eyed, wondering what he had said wrong. She glares back at him, with a look of disbelief. "You're not going to let anything happen to me?" She laughs dryly, humorlessly. Dez frowns, now understanding.

"Trish, look, I know I'm not much of a fighter. I know you've been doing most of the protecting, but I'm here for you. And I won't let you get hurt." He takes hold of her arms to reassure her that he means it. "I'm here for you."

"Then why won't you believe me?" Her voice strains, exhausted by the effort she's put in trying to persuade the boy. "If you're really here for me, be here for me." Her doleful eyes look up into his, pleading.

"I want to, Trish...But what you're saying, it...It just doesn't make any sense. If she wanted to hurt us, she would've done so," he tries to reason. "If she wanted our supplies, she would've taken them when we left her alone with the van. She could've taken our van. But she didn't. What else could she possibly want from us? I highly doubt we have some sort of bounty on our heads." He loosens his grip on her arms, letting his hands slide off them.

Trish's gaze moves down to her shoes. Who knew that he'd ever be the one making sense, and that she'd be coming up with wild conspiracies? Everything Dez says is true, but why can she not shake this foreboding feeling she has? Is it really just jealousy? Jealousy can't possibly make her feel like this, right? Like their lives are being threatened?

"Dez, I want to believe that everything's okay, but I just can't. I don't trust her. I don't trust any of this. We have no car, we have nothing to fight with. We're naked out here with a complete stranger leading us to God knows where!" She feels her legs go weak, her anxieties weighing down on her, her fears depleting her energy. She holds onto his shoulders for support.