Abigail was fine - insofar as one could be after witnessing the death of a stranger six feet away from your face. She didn't say or do much until they returned to Goodnight. Then she was walking back from the toilets and stopped, turned to the nearest wall and crouched down. A few seconds of silence and she started lightly whacking her head with her fists, gently at first but with a fast increasing and feverish frequency.
 
“Hey!” Brooks bellowed. Trying to snap her out whatever reverie she was slipping into. A quiet, keening whine pushed past her clenched jaw as she grabbed fistfuls of her hair and held on for dear life. When Brooks approached, she was shaking. He squatted before her, grabbing her wrists and pulling them aside. "I said- hey! Snap out of it!”

Now getting a good look at Abigail's expression, Brooks could see that she wasn't breaking down - she was utterly consumed with anger. The muscles on her neck bulged with her clenched jaw and she was shaking with fury, not fear. Whatever had happened here had built up for a while. He sighed and sat down from his kneeling position. He clicked his tongue and looked around. Goodnight was always busy no matter where you went but little attention was paid to the girl sat in the corridor struggling with her own issues. Unfortunately, it was a common sight in the mouldering ruin of a mall.

Brooks stood up, dusting off his pants and planting his palms on his hips after. He waved a hand in an airy manner. “Come on then.” he said, exasperated. “Let’s take a hike.”

With herculean effort, Abigail pushed her anger back from whatever dark hole it had spilt out of. Her expression thunderous, her hands still shaking, she sloped after Brooks as he lead her further out of the mall. She didn't even look at the door guard nor register the brief exchange of words between him and the bootlegger. They crossed the cracking tarmac and into muddy woodland where clods of dirt and wet leaves stuck to her tattered trainers. The sharp chill in the air and the open sky had offset her temper for now - this was a rare luxury for the denizens of Goodnight, and not often handed out to strangers or new kids - but this was a temporary fix to a deep seated issue. She looked up at Brooks' back in silence after a good half hour of wandering.

“I can practically feel you staring.”

"I ain't tryna be subtle," Abigail retorted. "So what is this. You brought me out here to whoop me? That it?" 

“The hell is wrong with you? No, I brought you out here because you looked like you were about to start screamin’ back in there. Can’t have that.”

"And why the hell not?" She skirted forward so they were walking side by side. "What's the worst that'll happen, I ruin the mood?" 

“You’ll be seen as unstable. Crying and screamin’ about. You haven’t earned that yet.”

"So it's a privilege to get worked up now?" They went down a hill and within the bottom of the pit was an ancient fly tip, a junkyard of old furniture, broken vehicles and debris. "What is this?" 

“A place for you to vent. Free of charge.”

Abigail looked down at the wreck, back up at Brooks and down at the wreck again.

It took her forty five minutes to get it all out of her system, which was an admittedly impressive time given the magic flung all over. By the time she was through the chassis of a car had been annealed and battered to within an inch of its life and the door of an old refrigerator had been torn off its hinges. Her screams had died down into hoarse little whimpers and she was soaked in sweat when Brooks carefully plodded into the junkyard to see her. She was shivering still but this time from the cold. 
 
“All out?” he asked, standing besides her and looking over the wreck. Abigail croaked, nodded, then half turned and pressed her forehead against his stomach. A few wet sniffles escaped her nose, which she wiped with her grotty bandaged palm.


He knelt down beside her, gently placing a patting hand on her back. "Fuck mages," Abigail muttered thickly. "Terrorists n' foreigners. Threats to society. This…. insurgency shouldn't even fuckin' exist." 

“Yeah.” he kept patting her back. “Well you’re one too now.”

"Gee, I sure didn't notice!" Abigail waved a hand at the scorch marks. "I just...I was meant to be better than this! I'm a goddamn American, I worked hard! I worked really, really fuckin' hard!" There were cracks in her voice. "It ain't easy out in the desert but that's okay, having to skip through like five schools on the road but I [I]tried[/I], didn't I? Ain't got no fuckin' friends or fancy smart phone or new sneakers but it ain't never about that, it's about, about [I]trustin' the Lord[/I] and His judgement!" She looked up at Brooks with ruddy cheeks and fresh tears pooling in her eyes. "I skipped dinner on Fridays so Meemaw could have fun on Bingo night, I was the one who fixed the water filter 'stead of doing my homework. I was [I]humble! I LOOKED AFTER MY OWN![/I] So why did God do this to me?! Why does everyone hate me! Why is it so GOD DAMN [I]HARD[/I] all the GOD DAMN [I]TIME[/I]?!" Abigail shrieked with all the irrationality that her young mind could muster, face screwed up and smeared with tears and snot.

Brooks waited until she was tuckered out before holding down her hands and hugging her. 

They stood there in the dirt and the chill, listening to the pops and groans as the metal on the car started to cool. It took a long time for Abigail to stop standing there and slump into the hug. She shut her eyes and exhaled. "I'm tired," she whispered.

There was another long moment of the wind whistling around them.

"I may be dumb but I ain't stupid," Abigail inhaled sharply. "What do those spell-flingin' maniacs wanna see from me. What do I... what've I gotta do to keep 'em from tossing me in a hut off in the middle of nowhere." 

“Don’t start fights. Show you’re reliable. Show you’re trustworthy. You’re going to need a serious attitude adjustment. Most of you do.”

"Fine. Fine." Abigail rubbed her face clean on her jumper.

"Now I'm gonna take you back in. We're gonna head to that office, get our debrief and whatever trouble you're in for cussing someone out on the job you're gonna take[I] without complaint.[/I] Understand?" Brooks let Abigail go long enough to watch her expression. The girl nodded but couldn't meet his gaze. "No, you look at me and say 'I understand'. This ain't middle school. You answer someone politely when you're asked a question, 'cause we ain't fucking around. Do you understand?" Brooks jabbed a finger into her shoulder, scowling.

Abigail squared her shoulders and stood up straight. "I understand," she responded. 

Brooks stared at her for a long moment, nodded, and brought her back into the mall.