The Darker the Night...


curtis_icon.gif elisabeth_icon.gif

Scene Title The Darker the Night…
Synopsis "The journey of the dark night of the soul is a journey into light, a journey from your darkness into the strength and hidden resources of your soul."1 Not a sprint, but a marathon of small steps.
Date June 2, 2019

Red Hook Market

Her trips to Benchmark lately aren't exactly as helpful as she'd wish. Elisabeth looks tired as she steps into the darkened tavern, her body language tight and her blue eyes hard. If he didn't know better, one might swear they were back in the days before she disappeared into the underground — looking at her, she is inadvertantly giving off the same vibe as back then. That there are things going on that weigh heavy. A loose black T-shirt rides over the waist of her blue jeans, and it's evident to anyone who knows what they're looking for that she's wearing a firearm at her side. But that's not disallowed these days either. The mug that the bartender sets in front of her without her asking might indicate that she's becoming a somewhat familiar face here. Or perhaps she's just a memorable one. She doesn't initially spot him in the low lights, but as she turns away from the bar to find a booth to sink into, her gaze collides with his. And there's a moment of dissonance where for an instant she freezes, as if she's going to …. run? Something else? Then it's gone and she offers him a faint smile and a lift of the mug.

Curtis is never unarmed himself. There is always at least one gun, and one big knife on him somewhere. Right now that's a K'bar in a booth sheath under his pant leg, and a battered .45 in a shoulder rig under his Wolfhound jacket. Liz would know what it looks like when someone is wearing a shoulder rig. He's dressed in black BDU's with wolfhound patches sewn into them. He's sitting at a table alone, a bottle of beer in his hand and a distant look on his features. He doesn't miss Liz's arrival though, head tilting to the side a touch as he watches her. An evaluating look but he also doesn't rise. Not wanting to intrude on her solitude. When she spots him he simply lifts his bottle in salute, then takes a sip from it before putting it back on the table. There's a nod from him, to the seat across from him if she wants it. But after that he goes back to sipping from his drink, slowly, eyes flickering over the crowd every few moments, watching the tv over the bar in between.

She seems to waver for a long minute, and then Elisabeth makes her way to the table where he sits. She goes around him, a hand brushing his shoulder lightly, and then she drops into the seat across from him. "You look about like I feel right now," she drawls mildly. "Penny for your thoughts, Ba…. Curt." He's not Bast. The slip tightens her features a little.

Does he miss the slip? Nope. It does have him raising a brow at her, but something Curtis can be counted on not to do? Is pry. He lifts his hand to call for another beer, because one is not going to cut it now. He takes a sip from the one he's got, the bottle almost empty. There's a soft snort as he leans back in ths eat, his chin tilting upwards. "Oh you know. Dwelling on… everything. The usual." He looks down at the bottle, eyes lingering there for a long few moments before his gaze lifts back upwads. "What about you? If you feel the way I look you must be feeling pretty shit right now." He thanks the waiter after his next bottle is set down, so he drains the remains of the first and sets it aside.

She leans forward on her elbows, letting her breath out in a long, slow sigh. "Pretty much," Elisabeth agrees. "Coming home is hard. Trying to sort through a lot of shit that…" She shrugs a little. "Fucking therapist is good, but … he'll never understand exactly. He knows what happened, but he doesn't know, you know?" She looks up at him and says quietly, "And talking about it over and over doesn't seem to really help when they just don't really comprehend the fucking guilt."

She studies him for a long moment. "How … did you ever reconcile the shit that you did as Ash in your head, Curt? The… really bad stuff."

Curtis dips his head forwards in a slow acknowledgement of that statement. "Coming home is… very hard." Curtis remarks in a soft tone. Not so soft that he can't be heard in the din of the bar, but still. There's some deep sadness there. He doesn't speak further, just that agreement, and a few slow sips from the new bottle in front of him. "No. He doesn't. He can't. How can any of them know without living it?" Curtis asks, a sad sort of smile straining as it pulls against his lips.

Curtis blinks, a slow disbelieving blink, and Liz gets a blank look at the question before Curtis just bursts out laughing. There's tension to the laugh, and it is definitely not entirely an amused laugh. But still, he's laughing, and it lasts for a handful of seconds before he lets out a heavy sigh and lets the laughter slip away. He lifts his bottle to take another sip and lets out a little chuckle. "Reconcile." Another quick laugh before he takes that sip and sets the bottle down on the table. "I didn't."

Shoving her hair back with one hand, she props her chin on the hand when she's done with the movement. Just like the old days, a bubble slides into place around them, just enough of a muting of the surroundings to it to let him know she's done it. Her other hand lifts the mug to her lips and she takes a long swallow and sets it back down before nodding slightly. "I kinda figured that's what you were going to say." There's little amusement in her features, just a kind of dread. "So what do you do with it?" She swallows hard and admits softly, "Cuz I'm stuck, Curt. I'm stuck between here and there. I got my daughter home to her father, but I…"

She closes her eyes so she can't see his expression. "All the things I told all of you guys not to do… don't compromise, don't… let it all turn you into monsters. I did all of those things. It feels like every goddamn thing I ever believed, I threw it out the window. And now I'm here, living this lie that I had no choices. But I did. I chose to come home, I chose to be selfish and go for what I wanted. And along the way, Christ…"

Curtis glances around when the silence bubble goes up. "That really is a neat trick. I remember the first time I encountered it. That first day at Frontline HQ. When a former enemy was suddenly assigned to your command. Felix was ready to kill me on your order." There's a faint smile from the old soldier. Not that he's old, but he sure feels it. And acts like it a lot of the time. "But you're still back there. Still agonizing over what's happened. Over who you lost. And worse, over who you left behind." Curtis pauses for a few moments. "Over those you sacrificed to get where you are." He remarks in a sad tone, his eyes casting down to the table.

"I know I didn't tell you before but… did I tell you that day? With the hot dogs? About Spalding?" Curtis asks, looking upwards. "Did you know he was my best friend? That I was supposed to be his second in Frontline. Before the Ash mission. All the way back when they were first talking about it. It was supposed to be me and him. The unstoppable force and the immovable object." Curtis laughs, but it's a sad sort of laugh, his eyes closing. "Ash killed him. With his bare hands. I remember it. Every moment of it. I can relive Ash's memories. I can remember what it felt like to take Michael's life. My best fucking friend." Curtis's eyes open and he looks across the table at Liz, his hands curling into fists, then relaxing. "Yeah. I know how you feel."

Curtis takes in a deep breath, and lifts his beer up to take a long swallow from it, draining about half the bottle before he puts it back down. "One day at a time. You deal with it each and every day. One day at a time. Some things… fade. They don't go away, but they blend into the background of your life. But some things? They don't fade. Ash killed a lot of people. But frankly a lot of the people he killed deserved it. But a lot didn't also."

She listens, her pain for him clear. "You didn't tell me, no… I knew you'd done it, but I didn't know if you knew you'd done it," Elisabeth says quietly. She understands that he's never forgiven himself. "That day at the HQ?" she says slowly. "I couldn't have killed you. And I couldn't have ordered Felix to." Blue eyes rise up to meet his and she confesses quietly, "I could now." It's, to her, a testament to how far she fell. It's why she struggles so hard.

"I can almost forgive myself everything that we did to escape the first place. Anyone who stayed was the walking dead anyway… they just didn't know it yet." Elisabeth's tone is so quiet as to be nearly a whisper. "We had to go up against a superior force… and they were holding kids in cages. So we…. obliterated the cages. Burned them. And everyone in them." That part, she can't really forgive herself. She still sees David's agonized expression when he asked her The fuck is the point in living if we give up our humanity? She still has no real answer to that.

"I did know I'd done it. That was one of the very first thoughts I had after I became me again. Well us. Once I was conciouss again we'll go with that. One of the very first thoughts I had, was that I'd killed my best friend. I can't imagine what he must of thought in those last moments. He damn sure didn't let me win though. He fought for everything he was worth. If the Institute hadn't grabbed me I'd have died on that street with him." There's a dry laugh, no humor in it all. He looks down at his beer bottle, and drains it before raising his hand and asking for a bourbon, neat.

Curtis listens, silent but understanding. And when she goes quiet at the end he reaches a hand out across the table, giving one of hers a squeeze. "And no amount of rationlizing will make that better. No matter what anyone else says. No matter what you tell yourself. You'll have to live with that. It will haunt you. Always. Eventually… you'll get to the point where you don't think about it every, single, day. Eventually you'll think of it every other, then every few. It will never fully go away but it becomes…" Curtis searches for the words, looking up as the bourbon is brought over. "Bring her another of what she's having?" He asks the waiter, then takes a sip from the bourbon, letting it sit on his tongue for a few seconds before he lets it burn it's way down his throat. "Liveable. I'd say tolerable but I'm not there yet. But I can live. Most of the time without being in constant grief. But no I'm not past it. Because something will happen. A news story. A comment from someone who's known me as Ash and Curtis. Any number of things will gut punch you out of nowhere."

Curtis sips from his glass a couple more times, contemplating in silence before speaking again. "At the end of the day… life goes on. We can move with it, or be drowned by it. I'd say I'm tumbling end over end through it. Some days my head is above water, and some days it's not. And some days…. some days are just blank."

She looks up at him and turns her hand to hold the one he offers. "I wish that were the worst of what I did. There were three other places to make choices like that in," Elisabeth tells him softly. She swallows the last of her beer in the glass and lets her tongue slide along the inside of her cheek. "Do you just not talk to anyone about it, then? Just… let it sit in there?" She doesn't think she can quite go that far. "I can't…. live a life with someone who doesn't see the whole me. For good or awful, it's… the biggest lie there is." She swallows again. "But I gotta admit to you that … I'm not liking the idea of telling someone I love just how horrible a human being I am."

"I tried talking to people. At first. When I first became me again I didn't really have anyone to talk to about it. No one understood and it was all classified anyway. Later… I." Curtis pauses, lips pressed tight together for a moment before he takes in a deep breath and lets it out again. "I had someone. But they died in the war." Curtis' jaw goes tight for a few moments before it relaxes, eyes going sad, his whole features just going… tired. Drained. Beaten.

"When Wolfhound formed I tried to talk to people. People that knew Ash, and then knew me as Curtis. But they didn't get it. They couldn't. How could they?" Curtis goes quiet then to listen to Liz, an understanding wince from him, and a tilt of his head. He gives her hand a squeeze again before picking up his glass once more to sip from the liquor within. "If it's Richard, then… he's no angel himself. And if he doesn't understand the you that you are now…" Curtis's shoulders lift slightly. "But you have people to talk to. People that love you. That might just understand." He doesn't go into what will happen if the person doesn't understand because well…. best not to dwell on that.

"I think he understands," Elisabeth replies softly, waiting until the waitress leaves her next drink. Then her eyes come back to him. "Intellectually. I mean… he didn't even do the shit Zeke did, and he still feels responsible for it in a lot of ways. Because he's seen what he could have become. I just…." She looks down again and admits, "There are days I can barely look myself in the mirror, Curt. I've never been afraid of what another person thought of me."

Shaking her head, she looks back up once more. "I'm sorry. That I didn't — and couldn't — understand what you were going through back then. For whatever it's worth to you, I can now. And if you want to talk… man, I've got all the time in the world. I don't want anyone else living with this kind of hurt alone."

Curtis sits and sips from his drink, listening, and calling for a refill when his glass starts to get low. There's no response from him right away, the soldier waiting while Elisabeth speaks, waiting until she's done, or at least done for the moment before he nods his head in a slow dip forwards, then raises his head, looking Liz in the eye. "We make sacrifices. Some of us… make greater sacrifices than others. And cutting away pieces of your humanity as you sacrafice people is still a sacrifice. You wonder if you'll ever be whole again. Or if you're a monster now. I was spec ops before becoming Ash. I did things even then that I was not proud of. But I did them because I thought I was serving the greater good. Sacrifice my humanity so other people didn't have to." Echoing his Bright counterpart there, nearly word for word. "That's what I told myself anyway."

There's a heavy sigh from Curtis, his glass lifted and the last of the liquor in it knocked back. When his hands lower he's turning the glass slowly, watching the light refract through it. "And then I made more sacrifices. And more, and more. Some were personal. Others were other people. But you're strong Liz. Probably stronger than me if I'm being honest. I don't know if I would have made it back like you did. But then… I also wouldn't have had a reason to make it back like you. You had a reason and a purpose. A drive. You wanted your daughter to be safe. And now she is. So find some joy in that. You may have sliced away pieces of your humanity, but your daughter is here. She's safe." Curtis' smile is genuine there, if only for a moment before it falls back into neutrality. "Everyone I talk to about it just thinks I have multiple personalities or that I've become schizophrenic. I'm not. I'm not entirely sane. But I'm not crazy either. But no, no one should have to live with this sort of burden alone. And you don't. You've got me. Felix will understand too, Liz. He will."

He's echoing the same thing she once said to David Cardinal.

"If we become just like them to get what we want, how the fuck do we live with ourselves if we even do make it away from here? How- how- h-how do we live with ourselves?"

"You'll live with yourself because you'll find a way to rationalize it … You live with yourself by accepting that some of us become monsters so the rest don't have to. And you never really sleep again. You either learn to see their faces in your dreams and find a way past it or you eat your gun."

She hasn't seriously considered that option, not since learning that Aurora existed. Mention of the little girl eases the lines in her face, gives her back some of the softness that she must have had when she wasn't a cop or a soldier but just a waitress, a singer, a mother. But Elisabeth didn't come home unscathed, physically or emotionally.

"You're not crazy," she agrees softly. "Maybe not entirely sane, but… I don't honestly know that you can come through some of this shit entirely sane." She lifts her glass to sip from it and adds quietly, "When you're pared down to straight up survival… you learn what you're willing to do and who you're willing to do it for. And in the end, we're all just predators protecting our own. I hate that I fucking understand that now."

Curtis sees that talking about her daughter eases some of that tension, and his head tilts forwards. "You have to live with the things you did. But your daughter is alive because of it. Every time you start to beat yourself up. Or start to get down. Or have a hard time looking yourself in the mirror? Think about that. That's your anchor. Having an anchor will help you. A lot." Curtis speaks from experience on that. Because he didn't have one. He's been adrift a long time. "You can't. My brand of not entirely sane is a bit different than most. I mean there are literally two people in my head. Like having a constant telepath hanging out in your brain yelling at you all the time. A muderous psychopath of a telepath. But hey. You deal with what you've got right?" He lets out a bitter laugh and takes a sip from his newly arrived drink, then sits up a little straighter in the booth.

"I"m sorry that you understand that now too. I wish that knowledge on no one. It's hard. Knowing exactly what you're capable of. It's very hard. Weighs on you. Eats at you. Because you're a predator. You're a warrior. And the people around you just… don't… get it." Curtis smiles lightly. "But the alternative is… not being around. Ending it. And that's not a good alternative. I've considered it. I've considered it more than… I'm comfortable admitting." He pauses a few moments to let out another sigh. "But in the end… things can't get better if I go that route. If I do that…" Curtis' shoulders lift upwards in a slow gradual shrug. "I learned what I was capable of during the war. I thought I knew. Between my time as Ash and my time as Curtis, I thought I knew. But the war taught me that I didn't know shit."

She watches him as he speaks and nods slowly. "Three of the places I lived were war zones. Probably… three years of the seven I was gone. The other one…" Elisabeth smiles just a little. "You were a bigger help there than you might ever guess." Toying with her glass, she tells him seriously, "If you're in trouble, Curt… come to me." She's worried about him. Felix too. She always worries about her friends. But in his word choice, in his tone… she feels like there's something there he's not talking about yet. And maybe she hasn't earned it from him yet. "I have a lot of practice with people who are fighting their inner voices." Kaylee immediately springs to mind. Without context, she fears that he's simply been alone too long with his.

"Warzones are hell." Curtis agrees with a lift of his glass and a tip of the rim in Liz's direction. "The other me that you mentioned? That's still a crazy ass thing to think about." He admits, leaning back in the booth once more, his hands still wrapped around his drink on the table. "I'm not in trouble. No one is out to get me or take me out or anything. And yes I know that's not what you meant. I'm deflecting okay?" He at least can crack a smile at it as he contemplates the amber liquid in his glass.

"It really is like having a telepath in my head. Only way more intimate. All his thoughts, desires, dreams, hatreds. And there's conversation. He takes a liking to people I can't stand. And vice versa. Like both sets of emotions are in there. It makes it hard. He doesn't have control, though there are times when he is very closer to the surface. During the war I…. let him out. A lot. He was better for the kind of war we were fighting. That bloody street to street shit. Kicking down doors. We'd go off on our own, take out whole squads ahead of the rest of the unit. Just… a whirlwind of blood and rage and death. And I let it happen. I could have stopped it. But I was grieving. And I wanted people to hurt too. And he is so much better at hurting people than I am. I can kill. But he's… a monster. He's the monster that I used to worry I'd become. There's that at least. I can always check myself against him to know if I've gone over the edge."

Curtis lifts his glass again, taking a slow sip from the bourbon. "I went to Richard a while back. Asked him for help. Containing Ash. Subduing him. Something. Figured he might know a Telepath or someone capable of helping. Never did hear back. Figured he was busy. And now…" He gestures at the blonde across the table. "I can guess what he was busy with."

Tipping her head, she watches him closely. Yes, she's absolutely aware you're deflecting, Autumn. The look she shoots him says it without the requirement of words. BUt her attention on what he's saying to her is rapt.

"Looks like Kaylee's getting another client," she comments mildly. "And don't argue. She's been getting a lot of practice at helping people contain shit — at least to the point that it can be slowly worked through and integrated. And she's got a hell of a lot of experience dealing with someone else's voice in her head." She's a telepath, after all. And she likely knows Ash anyway. "I'm sorry that he was distracted… even if he hadn't been, I don't think he would have understood exactly the … problem in question. I lived with Kaylee too long not to." She wishes she could blame some of the things she did on that 'other' part of herself. But it was all her. And she owns that. She just has to… manage it.

"Kaylee… Kaylee Thatcher?" Curtis asks, tilting his head sloooowly to the side, an inquisitive look on his features. "We used to be friends. We were in Adam's… gang together. We used to drink together a fair bit. She was a good sort." There's a few moments pause as he considers the glass in his hand, a lot of his focus is on that. It's a good neutral item for him to look at. "We lost contact after Adam's crew broke up. I joined Messiah. Never knew what happened to her after that."

Curtis looks up and smiles a little bit. "I'm pretty sure he did understand. Or at least… I explained it to him to the best of my ability." There's another shrug from Curtis before he leans forwards once more, planting his forearms on the table, leaning a bit of his weight against it. "But I appreciate it. Not sure… that she's going to want to help me box away someone she knew though. Someone she once called friend. That might be asking a bit much." Curtis presses his lips together into a thin line, holding that expression for a time.

"I don't want to… delete Ash. He's a person. He was an actual honest to god person. A monster. A terrorist, and a murderer. But still a person. I'm honestly not sure what to do with him. Without the Institute I'm not sure he can be taken out of my head. If he ever could be removed again. But now? I don't know if we could be seperated without it doing irreperable damage to me." His eyes close for a moment, a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. "You know. I was in the marines. And Ash is more inventive with his swearing than any Marine I ever met." He taps the side of his head and lets his eyes fall from Liz back down to his drink.

"She's my sister…." Elisabeth pauses and considers those words. "Another Kaylee was my sister more fully. Here she's… my sister-in-law? But she's still my sister in all the ways that matter. I know she was with Adam's gang. And I know that you probably have history, but honestly? I think that in and of itself might be good… she won't take him away. I'm not sure she can. But… maybe she can start you on the path to integrating him." The way Elisabeth once helped Niki and Jessica. "Multiple personalities aren't really different people. They're aspects of yourself. It just… takes time. But maybe she can at least help you gain enough distance to help with the feeling of constantly fighting with him, you know?" She shrugs slightly. "If you want. Besides…."

Elisabeth pauses and grimaces. "Frankly, Curt? With all the shit that's about coming down the pipe at us, I really don't want any possibility that Adam could come back and grab you up. He's already grabbed and tortured Devon." The rage that comes with those words is breathtaking — he has only seen her that incandescently pissed off maybe once. Good thing it's never been at him, because now? It's a look he knows all too well — the cold lethality says go right ahead, *try* and fuck with my kids again.

Well that statement has eyebrows going up. Liz's sister. "How does that even…" Then she clarifies sister-in-law and he ahhhs softly, then stops short and blinks. "Wait what?" Curtis, even more confused now. He tries to put those pieces together, face scrunching up. Apparently Curtis didn't know that Kaylee Ray is the same Kaylee he knew. "Wait as in Kaylee Ray? Like… Raytech? As in Cardinal's… sister?" Curtis just sits back and huhs softly. "Maybe that's why he didn't go to her? Maybe he knows we have history?" Curtis narrows his eyes at the table top in front of him before giving his head a slow shake. "Okay." Because that's really all he can do.

"Integrate him? I… oof." That's not something Curtis had really thought about, and it's clear from the sudden furtive look and the paleness to his features as the blood drains a bit that that idea utterly fucking terrifies him. "Adam is back around? I swear no one fucking tells me anything. Adam is dangerous. Why has no one killed him yet? Throw the asshole in a fucking volcano or something shit." Curtis sees that look, and it actually brings a small smile to his lips. "You look like you're ready to go to war just at the mention of him. So you say with all the shit that's coming down the pipe. What is coming down the pipe?"

She had no idea that he didn't know Kaylee Ray-Sumter was also Kaylee Thatcher. Elisabeth blinks at him, startled out of her instant reaction to Adam fucking Monroe. Yes, he's joined the ranks of people whose middle name is automatically 'Fucking'. Edward fucking Ray. Arthur fucking Petrelli. Adam fucking Monroe. There are others, but those top her list.

"Uhm… I don't know why he didn't go to her. She's kinda had some shit going on herself when it comes to … how I got home and all." The blonde pauses. "Okay, so… you're sticking with Wolfhound, I'm assuming, which means you'll be in on this shit anyway. Adam fucking Monroe is heads up Praxis Heavy. He's been under everyone's nose this whole time. When I came home, something got let loose. Some people think it's where we all got our powers or something, but I don't even know what it is. It's something. Monroe is potentially the only fucker who knows how to stop it because everything the Company ever knew about that shit was redacted years ago by a guy who could remove memories. So we're dealing with a two-fold threat. Adam's on the move, doing something which we have no fucking clue exactly what. But it's probably bad, because when Amarok went on that run out into the Western Zones, Devon was presumed dead? Only he wasn't. Monroe's people took him, tortured and experimented on him for some purpose we haven't grokked yet, and he escaped. And in the meantime, we're also going wind up dealing with the thing that came home with me."

Elisabeth pauses. "Those are probably the most relevant aspects."

Curtis sees that blink and lets out a laugh. "I'm a grunt. I just go fight who I'm told to fight. You're the one up there rubbing elbows with everyone who runs these shows. If Wolfhound doesn't deem information need to know? Then I don't know it. And I've been in Rochester not here in New York so… there's that too. Distance." Curtis finishes off his second bourbon, putting the empty glass on the table. Not that he stops fidgeting with it, turning it in place slowly. Curtis sits, and he listens. The mention that Adam is Praxis gets a bit of a bug eyed stare for a couple of seconds, and a grumble from him before his eyes roll at that knowledge. He mutters something about having already run afoul of Praxis but doesn't elaborate. He's a bit too busy getting a crash course on everything that is going on.

"I was on that run." Curtis confirms when it comes up. "Felix and I gave them a very bad day." There's a wolfish grin, all teeth and predator behind his eyes when he says that. "Grokked? The hell does grokked mean Liz?" He asks with an arched brow. But at the end of it all he sits back and lifts a hand, putting his palm to his forhead, then dragging his hand down his face. "For fuck's sake." He mutters, staring across the table just perplexed and bewildered.

"Grokked. Figured out. You know." Elisabeth waves a hand around, ignoring that the word showed up. "And…. yeah. For fuck's sake about covers it," she agrees. "Look…. I'm second in command on the new SCOUT team, Franch and Avi have Wolfhound, and a bunch of the SESA folks are…. old-timers too. When there's something actionable, believe me…. people are getting pulled in. But…" She pauses and sighs heavily. "This isn't exactly how I wanted to come home. But yes… I will bloody well end him if he touches another of my kids." Her people have always been the hot-button on her. And the maternal instincts she's apparently developed are highly developed.

There's actually a pause. "Fuck that noise…. I'm just gonna bloody well end him if I ever have an opportunity. Nevermind touching anyone else."

"I… really don't know." Curtis responds back. He has no idea at all what Grokked means other than what Liz has just said. And the skeptical brow lifted up his forhead says that too if his words didn't. "Well, sounds like he better be careful. Because I'm pretty sure immortal or not you could rip him to shreds with your power. Not sure you can regenerate from being ripped to tiny little pieces. Maybe he can though. But if not? Volcano. We can go find one. And just… drop him in. Get rid of him once and for all." Curtis is utterly bewildered why no one has dealt with him yet. "Okay. So Kaylee is Richard's sister. There's some… Cthulhu monster running around out there. And Adam is still active and not dead. Great info dump. Fucking… lovely."

It's the first time she's grinned, completely and fully, so that he can see the old Liz again. "Right! Now you're all caught up." Because… you know… what's better than a cheerful apocalypse update?!

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