meadowlark | @eugene.hicks

（ it's over his head, mostly. his idea of zombie films is the one he and reggie snuck in to see in the thirties an' it sure don't have much in common with what she's talkin' about. ）

Can't say as I have, not the way you're thinkin' anyhow.

（ but patrols. clearing areas of people an' 'infected', by which he assumes zombies. those are concepts he has analogous experiences for, much as anythin'. he's always good at contextualizin' things. maybe it's on account'a all the folks he talked to from a different era or place an' how formative that was for him. ）

[Ellie frowns to herself, trying to figure out a way to describe it that will be both accurate and not sound horrifying. It's impossible.]

I was born about... six years after it hit.

Joel-

[Ellie pauses here, because it's still a lot to say his name.]

He says that everything was fine when they went to bed before the outbreak, but they woke up and the world was going crazy. That millions of people died in one night. If it wasn't because they were infected, it was because the infected got them, or because people were scared, and turning on each other. Millions more every night after that, and more and more infected that just kept hunting everybody else.

FEDRA declared martial law, and set up Quarantine Zones. Work assignments and rations for everybody not military. Most of the Zones fell eventually, though.

[Aside from the details from Joel, it sounds almost like she's reading out of a textbook. She flickers her eyes back up at Gene.]

Sorry. There's no way to not make it sound fucking depressing. But it's just what it is, yanno?

Jesus.

（ it's barely a word, breathed out. ）

Ain't no wonder you're takin' this place in stride, then.

[It's a better reaction than some, and Ellie nods, taking a sip of her drink.]

Most things.

[She tries for a smile.]

Seeing how many people there were still freaked me right out.

Reckon so.

（ he knows what people are like when they're wolf-hungry an' out for themselves. you saw it in france. the rebels, yeah, but there was always someone willin' to sell someone out for a loaf of bread and a dozen eggs, too. to say nothin' of what happened in russia. ）

Guessin' folks were more enemy than friend, huh?

Most, yeah, and it wasn't always clear who was and wasn't.

Was pretty jumpy most of the first week.

[Meaning she's adapted rather well, given that she's sitting here in this bar, and isn't reacting with deadly force to someone taking a swing at her. Or seems to, anyway.]

I don't blame you.

（ to most folks that know him, he adjusted well comin' home. no fits, no drinkin' to excess, no violence. but what he carries is deeper than that, tucked away in dark corners. he can't say as he gets her specific trauma, but he knows what it's like to have somethin' like it. he tugs his beer into the protective circle of his braced forearms, an' lifts it idly after a moment. ）

Hell, I'm surprised it was only a week.

Not my first time adjusting to a safe place after a long time on the road.

[Ellie watches him, though, the way he holds himself, like he's using his whole body to prop up his heart, caging himself in. She knows the posture; she's seen it in plenty of men older than him.

Some younger.]

It helped, having... people, I guess. So early.

[And a lot of people willing to help her break out of the temporary safehouse for a little while.]

Mm. The one thing that can get a body through anythin'.

（ he's always been a bit of an island, preferrin' his own company an' all, but even then he acknowledges there were long, vast swaths of time where seein' ghosts kept him stable. after his ma died, he couldn't lean on his brothers or his pa to cope, because they needed him to be the strong one. but even when he had nothin', he had the dead. ）

I'm glad the transition weren't all that hard for you. An' if you find yourself needin' anythin', all's you gotta do is ask, too.

[Ellie takes another drink, watches him, more of a sober expression on her face. She doesn't doubt him, not exactly, but he's different from what she expected.]

You so nice to everybody you dance with?

（ his brow raises faintly. it sounds like a question within a question, an' he's had tabetha tryin' to foist him off on enough gals at sunday service now he thinks he has a rough guess at what she's gettin' at. ）

That a roundabout way to ask if I'm hittin' on you?

（ it's a fair thing for a gal to be concerned about, an' he'd rather be direct about it, all things considered. ）

[Truth be told, it wasn't Ellie's first thought, and by how quickly she raises her eyebrows and lightly chokes on her drink, that much is obvious.]

Fuck, no. I'm just not used to people going out of their way for me. Are you?

[Somehow she doubts it. Gene felt friendly when he touched her, but she hadn't felt anything like attraction.]

（ well, that's good at least. he laughs, easy, an' shakes his head. ）

No ma'am. I ain't about that.

（ whether he means 'women' or 'relationships' or 'attraction' is sort of up in the air. the man may be biromantic as the day is long, but at thirty-two, he's still a virgin. ~~until the aerie anyway.~~ ）

Just wanted to make sure that I hadn't made you some measure of discomfited with the dancing.

[Ellie grins back, both relieved and interested in his answer. She figures he means age-wise, considering how young she is, or maybe he just doesn't like women. That's a lot more common here, enough for Ellie to feel almost confident with saying out loud:]

Nah, I'm not about that either. Not with guys, anyway.

Ah.

（ as much as this place has done its level best to instill the idea such conduct can be announced out in the open, it hasn't stopped bein' a shock to have a gal just announce it like that. he ducks his head, obviously a bit embarrassed by her openness and then opts to say: ）

You know, reckon a fair shake of women in the Army Corps were just the same.

[Maybe it's a misstep, but she draws herself up, ready to be bare her teeth- and Gene surprises her again with his easy acceptance, or the appearance of it.]

... yeah?

（ still a sore spot, then. gene sucks his teeth an' takes another idle drink of his beer to give himself a moment — but she's a kid, an' he ain't about to hang her out for it. he ain't strictly comfortable tellin' near strangers about the intricacies of his own life, but he's comfortable enough with who he is that he can set the concerns of the former aside. the greater sin by far would be to let her sit there thinkin' he's in judgement of her. ）

Had a fella in the war myself, an' a gal before that. Weren't no word for it in my time, but, ah... been here long enough to learn otherwise.

（ he even met up with anna a few years back. still as sweet as ever, though she's married now to that navy boy she met after him. the red of her hair as bright as any flame an' replicated now on three little daughters he'd smiled fondly to see. ）

[Ellie softens, startled, then realizing that Gene's shock about her openness mirrors her own, when she first came here, when people would talk about their significant others of the same sex.

It's still fresh in her mind.

And maybe it's the sympathy, maybe it's just Gene and how willing he is to be open with her, but she nods.]

My, um- my ex was like that. She had a boyfriend before me.

World takes all sorts, don't it now?

（ he gives her a bit of a smile, mouth quirked up at the corner, an' lifts his glass up. ）

I'll drink to that, wouldn't you?

[It doesn't usually come this easily. Ellie nods back, heartened, and lifts her glass to lightly clink it against his own. It's different, being utterly open about these things, but she likes it.

The music rolls over them, but things are definitely winding down, people leaving in groups and pairs, last rounds all done. Tired-out and happy. It's not a bad place to be, and despite the high energy, it's winding down to something comfortable.

Ellie gestures over at the slightly raised platform that comprises the "stage".]

You play anything? Sing?

Piano, a few chords on the guitar. As to singin' — ah, mostly hymns an' the like, an' rarely without another voice raised up with mine. My brother, now, he's the one that sings like an angel. Lord, he'd have the whole'a this place wrapped around his finger in a month if he ever set foot on a stage.

（ his voice is — serviceable, decent but without much range. better if he doesn't try to do it loudly. but robbie, now, robbie's been singin' in church since he was all of seven or eight years old. between that an' his recent discovery of elvis, good lord. gene ain't never heard a song robbie couldn't improve on in some way. ）

[Brother, present tense. Ellie leans a little against the table. That's rare enough where she's from, having living family members.]

What's his name?

Robert. Robbie, generally. He's not much older'n'you. The youngest of all the Hicks boys.

（ and frankly, everyone's clear favourite. ）

You two real close?

[For some people, talking about family is painful and for others, it's a pleasure- but Gene's the one who brought him up, so it feels safe to ask after. She's curious, she's always been curious, especially about the people in her life she gets on with.

She's never been able to shake it.]

Ah, I'm close with all my brothers.

（ he smiles to think of 'em — much as he and albert have had their differences over the years, they've mostly sorted them out these days. ）

Got two others — John and Albert. John's an engineer, Al was a Marine, he does carpentry now. We still get together for Sunday dinners most weeks.

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