"I can't stand this place."

At her sudden outburst, Killer looked over frowning.

"I feel like if I don't leave now - this place is going to eat me alive."

"You're.. You're talking about leaving?"

"What do you want me to do Killer? Stay? Raise sheep for the rest of my life, or marry one of Big Mam's asshat sons and pop out 2.5 kids so i can finally get some basic income? Cause no one else is ever going to hire me - I've been trying. Kil', I've been trying too hard and I can't do it anymore."

He won't look at her anymore, seeming content on slouched in on himself until he disappeared as she ranted.

"Kidd's going to be an astronaut, or an architect, or a deep sea explorer, or go map the arctic circle or some new shit he decides next week he's doing. He's gonna go built rockets, or robots, or robots that shoot rockets, or some shit. You can't really sit here any listen to theses ridiculous plans of his and just... want to stay here? You can't tell me you like it here? These people hate you; Your dad hates you. Why don't you want to leave?"

He sighed at that, opening the truck door and climbing down with no other acknowledgment.

Victoria, however, isn't done, leaning over the bench seat to keep pleading with him though the open window. "What do you want Killer? We all got some stupid dreams that we're never gonna find here. What's yours?"

Killer steps away from her, looking back up to his house. "It doesn't matter. My dad's watching, I gotta go."

"Kil'!

He'd turned away by that point, starting up the drive to his father's house.

"Killer!

He does stop then, just for a moment. He won't lift his head, face hidden in his hair, hands in his pockets, refusing to look back at her. His voice is soft, a prayer. "I just... I just didn't want to be the one left behind... Alone."

She watches him leave before punching the steering wheel with a frustrated cry. He didn't turn back or pause again, and she glared at his old man watching from the large living room window.

She only just didn't flip him off, before putting the Punk in gear and driving away.

-----------

"I didn't think you were talking to me anymore?"

Killer hauled himself up in the truck and they sat quietly for a moment, before Killer pulls something out of the front hoodie pocket. "Do.. Do you know when you're leaving?

"Tch... I'm not going anywhere Killer. We can't afford sending me across the country like that. Finding a place to stay, all that shit. It's a pipe dream."

"But.. but you have the job right? They promised you the job?"

"Still gotta find somewhere to live until they start paying me. And then there's the getting there. I can't afford a plane ticket, and the gas alone will wipe me out if I drive it."

Killer handed her a box, refusing to look at her as he held it out.

"From Heat, Wire and me. Kidd made the box too."

It was an intricately made metal box, Kidd's little artistic designs with skull butterflies all over it, with a fancy latch of gears that was designed like a waxing and waning moon when she turn the lock. Victoria turned it over - it was heavy, solid. "What?"

Killer still wouldn't look at her.

She turned it to a new moon and the latch popped open.

It was full of cash. A couple thousand dollars in small bills.

"Killer - what the hell is this?"

He picked at the window crank.

She leafed through the stack again.

"It's all the money you should have gotten when you worked with us. At least as best as we could figure it out. Plus some extra .. since we can't go with you; you could get yourself on of those fancy coffees or whatever the city folks do. On us."

She stares at the money in its little metal box

"Just.... don't forget us, okay?"