Adrien Senses Something Shift Once He Mentions El, But Cherry Moves Right On Past It, So He Does Too.

"I can definitely handle that," Lucas replies with a snicker.

He looks up at Ana, smirk softening to a smile.

"And I appreciate you. Lesbian drama and all, because I know you've got my back too."

Anastasia smirks back, crossing her arms and giving Lucas a playful nudge. "Exactly. I expect a perfect balance of polite intimidation and subtle protectiveness. Think you can handle that?”

She raises an eyebrow, teasing. "I need you to be just threatening enough to keep her on her toes but not so much that she thinks she’s about to get ambushed every time she looks at you." With a laugh, she adds, “But really, you’ve always had my back and I appreciate you."

Lucas laughs.

"Well, I'm glad I could keep that unique brain of yours from eating itself."

He nudges Muz with a shoulder.

"I don't know if I've got any good chat today. Too busy running around, making sure we don't fall apart here. Though I guess falling apart helps your job a bit, doesn't it?"

His tone isn't judgmental, more amused by the thought.

'Guess I’m growing roots. Whole five minutes of stillness. New record, I think.' He pauses, glancing at Lucas, the glint in his eyes settles into something quieter. 'Honestly? Got sick of my own company today. Felt like if I sat alone one more minute, my brain’d start eating itself.' He tilts his head, a grin breaking the seriousness before it can linger. 'And I know you've got good chat.'

Adrien laughs. "I doubt I could if you can't, but I'll still take a look. You more of a big machinery person?"

Adrien grunts as he tries to rachet a bolt loose.

"It's alright, I guess. It's not exactly what I thought when I first heard the options, but it's not bad."

He finally gets it loose.

"It's not so much the space as it is the... I don't know, vibes? It's just not always my favorite. There's cool people there, but we're not always in the mood to hang out with each other. At least they're not sometimes."

He shrugs.

Ellington leaned back slightly on their stool, their lips curling into a smile as they caught Adrien’s enthusiasm about the watch. “Still got it,” they said, nodding toward a nearby workbench. “Haven’t cracked the mystery yet, though. It’s a tough one. Maybe you can fix it?”

They took a moment to let Adrien’s words about calling this place home sink in, their gaze softening. “That’s good to hear. Feeling at home here, even just a little, is no small thing.”

After a beat, El shifted gears. “Speaking of, how’s it been at Colony House for you? I know it’s got its charms, but it can get... crowded over there. Everyone finding their space okay?” Their tone was curious but gentle, a genuine question wrapped in the easygoing demeanor they always wore. “If you ever need a break from it, you know where to find me.”

They slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered.

F. Scott Fitzgerald / This Side of Paradise

Adrien stops pushing and looks up to see someone talking to him from a working car. One of the few in town. He recognizes him but can't remember his name.

"I mean if you're not busy," Adrien replies. "I'm just taking it to the Chop Shop to see what I can do with it."

Adrien smiles then takes a second to roll his shoulders, giving his body a short break.

Gabriel was driving to his shift at the diner when he spotted someone literally pushing their car down the road, obviously broken down. He didn't want to be late but then again he was a nice guy if someone needed help. He pulled over and rolled down the passenger window. ''Hey man, want some help? There must be something better than that.''

Lucas watches as Ana just sort of droops. Like a flower in need of watering.

"I think about it all the time," he admits. "And it keeps me up at night."

He stands and pulls her into a tight hug.

"We can't give up," he whispers. "It's not just us here. We all had lives out there. There are kids here who deserve to see what they're missing out there."

He feels some tears escape his eyes and drop into her hair.

"We hold the line," he echoes. "Not because we'll go back to normal, but because who will if we don't?"

Anastasia's expression flickers—something between a smirk and exhaustion—but she doesn’t push Lucas the way she usually might. Not tonight. Her arms wrap loosely around herself, fingers drumming against her forearm, a small habit she’s never been able to shake.

“Yeah, well... that’s the thing about rules.” Her voice is soft, tinged with bitterness. “They don’t mean a damn thing when the monsters come.”

She leans her hip against the edge of the counter, mirroring his stance but with a subtle slump in her shoulders that wasn’t there before. Her sharpness—her usual armor—feels dulled tonight, like a blade used one too many times without being sharpened.

“You ever think about that?” she asks, glancing up at him, her gaze unusually heavy. “How we keep pretending we know what we’re doing—like if we just hold the line long enough, things will go back to normal. But what if they don’t, Lucas? What if... this is it?”

There’s no venom in her words, only an eerie quiet that settles between them like dust after a long fight. “I used to believe we’d get out of this,” she admits, more to herself than to him. “But now...” She trails off, rubbing a hand over her face, trying to push away the weight pressing on her chest.

lucas tags:

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Adrien nods, sitting down and starting to carefully pull the phone apart.

"Anything is useful, just gotta figure out what use it's for."

His tongue sticks out as he manages to pry the phone open without making more cracks.

"Yeah. They basically run the place. They're really cool. You met them?"

He glances up and smiles at Charlie.

"I'm settling fine. Really crazy. Like I'm honestly surprised I'm even here crazy. How about you? Where'd they put you up at?"

charlie shrugged, it was weird because two days ago, her phone was her whole life and now she was stuck in a place where it was basically useless. at least to her, if they could use it for something else, then more power to them. she had no clue how things worked around here. "yeah, no problem. i just figured it could be useful in some way. i mean, who knows?"

she looked around the shop, taking everything in. this place was still so new and confusing, she wondered how this other new guy was taking it. he seemed so chipper but maybe he was just better at holding things together than she was. "el works here?" she asked, looking back at him. she thought back to how el talked about helping people and it being their duty. this made sense considering what they talked about their old life.

"how are you settling in?" she dares to ask, mostly just killing time before she has to be alone with her thoughts again. "crazy first night, huh?"

"Rae-rae," Lucas says, exasperated, the old pet name slipping out. He follows Rae down the hall, ready to softly berate him about taking care of himself first and foremost.

It's hypocritical, he knows, but it's easier to want other people to be selfish than yourself.

But before he can make any challenge or tirades about Rae's well-being, he hears Rae's sob and curse.

Lucas immediately steps around and pulls Rae's body against his own. His arms hold him tight, trying to provide a physical anchor. Tears start spilling out of his own eyes, sharing Rae's pain, fear, heartbreak, despair.

"I know," he whispers. "You need actual rest. You can't force yourself to do this for hours."

cruel was putting it lightly, rae thought to himself; they were pure evil. he would never forget his first night, the sound of his parents tapping on the window, the glimpse he caught of their un-aged faces, and his mother's voice calling to him in their native tongue.

“i — ” he began, but the sound of his own voice felt foreign. he swallowed hard, forcing the memories back into the shadows where they belonged. “i'll take a break, but i can’t leave, lucas. there’s too much to do.” rae's fingers grip on the cart tightened, knuckles turning an alarming shade of white.

as they reached the door leading to the storage room, something inside him snapped. a sob broke free from his lips — a choked sound that echoed in the hallway. he stopped, his hands gripping the cart's edge tightly as if it could anchor him to reality. “fuck.” his voice was raw, a mixture of despair and anger as he buried his face in his hands. the calm facade he had fought so hard to maintain crumbled instantly.

Susan Sontag, from “Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1963″