By the time they're back on the road, the rain has picked up to a slight drizzle again, and it patters against the windshield in a soothing rhythm. Lacey snuggles down into the seat and props her elbow up on the door so she can prop her head up on her hand. The radio is on, but left low, so they can hear sounds but not what they truly mean.

Gideon cranes his head to get a look at a sign at the side of the road, then twirls the steering wheel. "I wanna make a pit stop at the theater so we can get tickets for the play they're showing in a couple days. That okay?"

She shrugs, which is affirmation enough. Still, "Why are we spending time there? I thought you wanted to put Erie first."

"I do. But I've also come to recognize in these past few weeks that maybe giving myself a break is important. You too." He swallows. "Mostly my mom lectured me. Plus, from what you told me about your little excursion, we might be able to catch someone who knows more about Stella or Ro or Erie."

"Fair enough."

They continue driving through Carrick. At this point the sky has fallen to a dark blue, although the color only comes through in bits and pieces whenever the clouds choose to eschew their responsibilities in blocking out all light. They move fast, swirling and colliding into one another to make different shapes, all running in the same direction as their vehicle, as the wind. The radio blends music and a news station together. Gospel choir melts into static melts into "...light drizzles for the remainder of the night but thankfully these should stop by around midnight, giving way to much needed sunshine for the next three days. However, be wary of wind speeds and move anything at risk of blowing away indoors..."

There's a glare in the rearview mirror and she squints at the headlights quite a ways behind them. The image vibrates with the texture of the road. She rubs her temple and turns her attention to the spiral notebook in her lap. "What'd you make of her parents?" she asks. "D'you think they're suspects?"

"Nah. Even if they were for Ro, there's no reason they'd go after Stella and Erie too. But I don't think they did anything to Ro. You could see how hurt they were."

"Hm." She flips the cover open again and tries to read the cursive scrawls across the first page. Her mind wanders three sentences in, and the vision taints her thoughts. "Maybe it's all Malevolence."

"What?"

"Well, we know Ro-Anne was talking to Darcy and Darcy was trying to get Ro-Anne to take the same steps she's trying to force me to take. What if all this starts with this bullshit deal Darcy made with Malevolence to get this mock-justice nobody's ever gonna find? I don't know how Stella factors in. Or Erie. Erie by association with Stella, I guess. Maybe Stella by association with me..."

"Stop that. I know where you're gonna wind up going with this, so stop. You're not to blame. Some real sicko out there is at fault here. Not you. We're not even gonna go there."

She sighs, unconvinced, but stops talking regardless. Her gaze returns to the window. The trees are darker than they were before, and it takes her a moment to realize it's because they're more full than they were before. With fullness comes darkness, and those headlights in the rearview mirror are even brighter than before, nearly blinding. She makes a noise of discontent at the back of her throat. "That car behind us is getting kind of close. Are you driving too slow?"

"No. I'm going the speed limit. And not a mile faster. The roads are still wet."

"They need to chill out then. They're riding our ass."

At this, Gideon lifts himself a bit higher in his seat and offers the mirror above their heads a quick glimpse. He settles back down and tightens his fingers over the wheel. The material creaks under his skin. "Yeah. People these days don't have any patience."

Still, he presses on the gas just a little more. Not a mile faster my ass, she thinks, turning back to the window. The fringe of the woods becomes more distinct because a small stone barrier starts its rounds, and then gives way to the metal rails at the side of the road. The trees themselves fall away, too. In their place, a wide but shallow brown river sits. The bumpy texture of the bridge makes her seat vibrate. She closes the notebook and absentmindedly chews the inside of her cheek.

There's a deafening roar of gasoline and mechanics. The blinding lights flash through the corner of her eye and she lifts her hand to block them. They're gone just as soon as they're there, but that's only because instead of riding their asses, now the other driver rides their hips, hogging space on the wrong side of the road. Good riddance, she thinks first, since if they decide to speed ahead now, they'll stop being such a nuisance in her periphery.

But they don't speed ahead. They drive steady beside them, keeping pace.

"The fuck's he doing?"

"I don't know. Being a whack-job." At this point Gideon's eyes dart from the road to the car beside them with impressive speed. "I don't like it."

Lacey leans forward and trains her eyes on the driver in an attempt to get a good look at them, but it's too dark outside. She doesn't get to focus at all, either, because just as she thinks she might be able to make out a few features, their arms jerk on the wheel and the other car veers directly into them. "Watch out!" she screams.

The warning comes just in time. Gideon veers sharply to the right just before the two can collide. They avoid a violent clash with the other car but not with the metal rail that keeps them from plunging right off the bridge. Lacey slams into the door and her forehead makes contact with the window. The pain is a fleeting, momentary thing though because they are one ounce of pressure away from this whole rail snapping away and them driving straight into the fucking river! The scrape of metal on metal screeches in her ears and her warped yell gets lost amongst the sparks that fly as they speed along the rail.

She nearly gives herself whiplash looking back to see where the other car is now. Close. Closing in on them. Forcing them away. "Gideon I think we oughta take our chances with the guy because I don't feel like falling thirty feet in this motherfucker!"

But he's overwhelmed and she doubts he even hears her. He floors it and she looses a terrified shriek as they shoot forward. The rail ends and then there's no support, but then so does the bridge. They go soaring into the woods and he slams on the brakes but they still don't stop until a tall twirling tree root grabs them by the hood and stops them flat in their tracks. The two of them jerk forward before slamming back against their seats. They sit, frozen, his breaths short and shallow, hers heaving her entire chest.

She looks to him, but then he's forcing the door open and scrambling out of it. "Gideon!" She leans forward, as if that might help her voice project any further. Even if it does, he's not listening. He's running to the road. The beige car goes shooting past, engine roaring and tires squealing as it speeds by like a bullet from a gun. He shields his eyes from the non-existent sun and stares after the car, but it doesn't bring it back. It's gone, the dissipating engine noises - and their current predicament - the only proof that it was ever there at all.

He comes lumbering back, panting, and collapses back in the driver's side without closing the door behind him. "I tried to get a look at the license plate. I couldn't get a number." He rests his skull against the headrest. Then, in a beat of frustration, he rests his hand on the horn. "Fuck!" Lacey has to punch his shoulder to get him to stop. "Ow."

"You can have a meltdown without being obnoxious about it," she says. She closes her eyes. "Fuck. Fuck is right. Why would someone do that? Why the f-"

"Maybe we're getting close and someone knows." Gideon's face goes pale, and he kneads the cracked skin of his knuckles.

They share a look. And in it, there's a little bit of excitement - they might be closing in - and a whole lot more fear - they might be closing in.

* * *

Flashes of red and blue reflect off the windshield of her father's pick-up, and she's been staring at the colors for so long that she might very well lose vision, so hypnotized by the constant flicker. Gideon still stands outside, somewhere between the road and the crashed car, talking to a couple officers. They must be taking his statement, and the way they poke around the vehicle, they must be assessing damages, too. They've already taken Lacey's statement, and she's free to leave at any time.

Which is why she doesn't know why she and her father are still sitting at the side of the road.

He's been sitting there in moody silence for a while now. As much as she'd like to ignore the bony fellas dancing the red-blue-one-too, warping the light through their own ghastly bodies, Jeremy's not really giving her much of a choice. God forbid she start the conversation. She'd really rather not have any conversation at all, but with the angry flare of her father's nostrils, she knows she won't get away that easy.

"I'm tired of being afraid for you," he finally says, staring at the same bony fellas dancing in front of the cop car without really seeing them. "You don't answer your phone. You don't tell me where you're going, ever. You let me think someone's gone and snatched you up and killed you. Then I have to get a call from the police before I get one from you, saying you've been in an accident. Do you know what that does? How nerve-wracking it is feeling like something's wrong and getting rang up by the police? I fell down. And we talked about this but I don't think you care at all what this does to me, what danger you're putting yourself in."

"I'm not in danger, dad, I'm fine."

"Look at that!" He gestures wildly to the mess that is Gideon's car. "Does that look fine? That's not fine! You could've died!"

"But I didn't!"

This does not help.

"And not to mention, I checked in on your progress for your online courses for your homeschooling. It hasn't been touched in almost two weeks, not since the last time I made you sit down and do the work. Am I gonna have to keep doing this, monitoring you like you're a toddler that won't sit down for time out? Is that what I have to do?"

"No! There's just a lot going on right now! I'll catch up on it when all of this is over, but-"

"And what's 'this'? Running around with this new friend of yours? Listen, Gideon's a good kid, and I'm glad you've made friends with him, but he's becoming a distraction at your detriment. Until I see those missing assignments turned in, you're not going anywhere, with him or otherwise. I'm not playing around." He chews his lip briefly before tearing his teeth away from it. "And I don't want you driving with him again, either."

Lacey pinches her brows together and makes a wide gesture to the wreck. "Does it look like he'll be driving any time soon?"

"Don't get smart with me."

Heat rises at the back of her throat and she crosses her arms over her chest. She wants to lash out, to yell and make a case, but there can't be any case made unless she wants to sound like a basketcase. She needs air. "Can I at least talk to him before we go?"

All the stern anger has left his voice. When he speaks, it's quiet. Tired. "That's fine."

With a harsh shove, the door opens and she jumps into the cool night air. It's in sharp contrast to the heat that was previously beating on her face, and that warmth sticks to her cheeks but nowhere else. She waits for the officers to turn their backs before she steps down into the woods to join Gideon.

He looks to her, creases on his forehead and hands in his pocket. He's clearly perplexed and she hates to do this, but, "My dad doesn't want me hanging around you for the time being. I'll figure out how to make it work, but...I don't know. We're going home now. I just wanted to let you know and say bye."

His face drops, but he wipes his hands over them before she can stare at the change for too long. When he drags his hands back down, he spreads his fingers apart and looks at her between them. "Right. I don't blame him." The hands fall limp to his sides and they find his pockets again. "We'll figure it out. I don't think my mom'll want me out after I tell her about, y'know, nearly being deliberately driven off the road and all. So maybe we're in the same boat." His brow twitches. "Can I have a hug before you go?"

"Uh..." It's an odd request. Maybe she should oblige, given the burn of tension already settling between she and Jeremy. Does she really need any more of that?

She must think about it for too long because Gideon simply nods and ducks his head. "I'll see you 'round."

She tries to smile, but it falls flat. She turns back and crunches her way back to the road, then to the car, and then Jeremy's got the truck in gear and they're driving, silent. If someone were in the back, they'd see steam coming from the ears of both parties.

There's one more thing she needs to fight for before she deals with the consequences of...the mess she's gotten herself into. "That play that Stella and Erie were in before they...It's supposed to show soon. Can I still see it when it does?" She sees the "no" playing on his tongue. "I just, I didn't get to see it with her in it and I want to see what it was she was spending all her time on before what happened, happened. That's all."

He's reasonable, at least. And all too perceptive to sentimentality. "I can allow it. If-" He points. "If you make enough progress on those late assignments by then. And I'm coming with you."

It's not the worst catch. She nods, he's appeased, and they ride on in silence, the flash of red and blue dying away behind them, and the bony fellas continuing to dance, dance, dance away. What it must be like to be them.

Civilian, by Wye Oak (n I'm just gonna throw it out there that this song has had IBS vibes for the entirety I've been writing this so I was very excited to include it here)

Mostly just the metal rail and the woods; it has the aesthetic of the scene ok