thearena | OPEN

WHO| Emily, Derek, and OPEN

WHAT| It’s raining ~~men~~ acid

WHEN| The day the rain falls

WHERE| Q18

WARNINGS| Adult Situations

Derek thought the dog had just been curious about these vaguely familiar looking newcomers – judging by how old he looked, he was probably still a puppy the last time people were around and he probably still had memories of being loved and fed and cared for.

But it now seemed that he was more than curious...he had followed them as they travelled, leaving behind his pack. True, they had been feeding him what little they could spare, but it hardly seemed like enough motive to leave behind the safety of numbers.

For the most part, they ignored him and he pretended to ignore them, with an air of nonchalance, waiting until they weren’t looking to curiously watch them.

Until that afternoon when he started to get extremely distressed. He started to get close – too close to fit with wariness that should accompany prolonged separation from humans. It wasn’t until the first drops of rain, though, that the dog got aggressive, barking at them angrily, growling.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yes. Now, shut up and watch," he said, not taking his eyes off the rain. "Something weird is going on. There are more dead rats now than when we first got here."

"Stop telling me to shut up!" She punched him in the shoulder, a little less than playful.

"Stop it! This is serious!" he glared at her. He let out and annoyed huffed then focused on the rain again. "Something's not right..."

"Like the fact that we're killing people to survive and then being spawned back to life to do it again?"

"Yes, that's crazy but I'm telling you, there's something very strange about this rain."

Derek kicked one of their empty food cans in the shelter and out into the rain and watched it intently, while continue keeping an eye on the rodents.

"There were almost no dead rats when we got here but once the rain came pouring down...dead rats are everywhere."

She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes for several long moments. She ran her hands through her hair, knotting her locks around her fingers. She wanted to scream.

"I don't fucking care!"

"What is it?!" he turned to her, clearly surprised by her sudden outburst.

"I don't give a shit about the rats! I don't fucking care about the rain! Just...shut the hell up for five damn minutes and let me think!"

"Me?" he asked incredulously. "You were the one going on and on about the dog for the last two days!"

"Just stop /talking/!" she hissed. "Stop fucking talking!"

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest and continued to stare out into the rain. "Women..." he mumbled begrudgingly.

Muttering to herself, she braided her hair, then unbraided it and returned it to its ponytail. Then, the way she did when she got stressed, she traced the shamrock scar on her breast and whispered to herself an Irish folk song Ian had loved to sing.

He sighed softly and settled down on the floor. There was nothing they could do but wait for the rain to stop. Leaning against the wall of their shelter, he heard the pitter-patter of the rain and Emily's voice.

"That's nice," he whispered.

She pretended not to hear him. They didn't discuss what happened in Belgium or Boston or Paris - and they certainly didn't discuss her scars - it was an unspoken rule. Ian and everything he touched was a ghost he seemed to choose not to admit the existance of.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

She looked up sharply as if only just remembering he was there. "For what?"

"For telling you to shut up... Although, you did kinda deserve it," he said with a small smile.

She glared at him in a 'you bastard' kind of way, shaking her head slowly. "Seriously, who died and made you King Dickhead?" It was a little bit teasing, but more not. "I am this close to killing you myself."

"You wouldn't," he grinned. "You'd miss me."

"Want a bet? Tell me to shut up one more time and find out."

"So, bossy..." he continued to tease her.

"If you're trying to gain my favour, you may want to rethink this tactic..."

"Well, I can't help it if you don't like hearing the truth..." he grinned, moving closer to her. "But I am sorry for telling you to shut up. That wasn't nice..."

"Nice?" She raised a brow. "What are you, six? You were an ass." She couldn't help it...a smile broke out, if only a slight teasing one.

He grinned. "Now, it seems like you're the ass..."

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