“How are YOU? Are you okay? You look like shit,” Molly responded as Abigail picked idly at her knees. She glanced up at her friend and then gave her a small grin, straightened up and rubbed her hands on her thighs.

“Nothing I can’t deal with. The only thing better than my looks is my pain tolerance,” Abigail quipped slyly as she offered her friend a disarming smile. “ ‘sides, I get the feeling we have bigger things to worry about than my imminent brush-in with tetanus. Starting with our good friend and local screw-up, Scotty.” Abigail looked down at the whimpering boy impassively, seeming much less worried than Molly was about the whole ordeal. “Eeeh, lookit him. He looks fine.” Abigail shrugged her shoulders. “His parents are gonna be around soon though and I don’t want to be the one explaining it to ‘em.” Whatever ‘it’ was, that is; Abigail wasn’t sure she could explain it herself.

“I’m scared Abigail.”

Abigail looked back at Molly and hesitated for a brief moment. Personally, Abigail didn’t look scared in the slightest; she had a grim look on her face though, her ‘thinking’ face...a dark expression that made her look so much older than she actually was. Just when it could’ve started to become unnerving, Abigail quickly turned away and stared at the window she was unceremoniously tossed out of. “Scared? No, no, don’t be scared. Definitely don’t be scared of the girl,” Abigail said reassuringly. When she looked around again she had her usual smile on her face. “She didn’t do much to me, did she? She didn’t kill anyone. Didn’t torture anyone.” Abigail looked away again. “You know who does torture and kill people, though? The police. Well, not our police. But the CIA, the FBI...if they think you know something, they’d do some pretty fucked up stuff until you decide to share it with them.” Abigail walked over to Molly now. Her gaze was cold, her voice was quiet but it held a new sort of menace.

“Because, y’know, everyone’s listening these days right? What with TV and Radio everywhere, Russia getting all up in America’s business...In the big cities, they think there’s spies everywhere. Now, if I was a fugitive, I wouldn’t bum around in somewhere like New York. I’d run off to a small-town and...and hide in the woods.” She took a shuddering breath and exhaled slowly. “Don’t be scared of the kid, Molly. I could’ve kicked her in the teeth and she would’ve been out like a light. I’m scared of whatever’s following her though - why else would she look so fucked up?” Abigail must’ve seen something in Molly’s face because she gently laid a hand on her shoulder and shook her head a little. Her usual smile seemed hollow.

“Good thing nothing happened here then, huh? Scotty’s delirious. You and me, we pulled a brilliant prank on him but it went wrong last minute. We’re both [i]awfully[/i] sorry.” Abigail looked down at Scotty - he wasn’t saying much now. All of his friends had rushed off to either find his parents or avoid getting caught by their own, leaving only Molly and Abigail in the kitchen. “Scared those kids so hard they were seein’ ghosts n’ shit. Of course, Scotty was only seeing red...and he got so pissed he threw me out of the window. Remember that.” It didn’t sound like a question - it sounded like an order. Abigail looked over at Molly pleadingly. “Because that’s really, really what happened from now on out. I’d rather get yelled at by my uncle than a one-way trip to Guantanamo. You an’ me, we’re never going to talk about this again. Not even when we think we’re alone. NEVER again. You say anything about, about this shit, and I sweartofugginGOD Molly I will NOT defend you if some guys in kevlar come banging on your door. Understand?”

Abigail looked absolutely drained. She had gone pale and it made her look almost as filthy as the wildchild from the forest. “...Oh, and can you take me home?” she added meekly, rubbing her nose.