2019-10-03 - Of Drugs and Murderation

True to her word, Bennie shows up where directed with a greasy bag of take out food: cheeseburger, fries, rings and a vanilla shake she may have 'taxed' on the way over. Of course she was merely just testing to make sure it wasn't melting, But that was about a half a shake ago.

Her traipse through the woods was made in her denim miniskirt and cowboy boots, paired with a long sleeve white thermal and a red flannel tied around her waist. She must have a bit of a chill with the autumn weather, because she has a purple silk floral scarf wound around her neck with the ends tucked into the collar of her shirt. Bennie's large purse is bulging oddly today, taking on a rather square shape with its hidden contents.

As she finally breaches the clearing of the cabin, her first instinct is to look around for someplace to leave the food and flee, yet something compels her to approach the cabin with hesitant foot falls. "Alexander? It's Bennie! Please don't murderate me..."

Alexander might have been planning to ambush Bennie in the woods. He might have been in the process of talking himself into thinking that it ISN'T creepy, because he's WORRIED and not because he wants to KILL her.

Except he does kind of want to kill her. Just in the background, where right now he wants to kill everyone.

But after a week of this, he's gotten pretty good at keeping that in the background, so he's instead sitting on the futon, trying to alternately talk himself in and out of ambushing her. And then her voice makes it through the cabin walls, and he rises (still a little unsteady on his feet), to come to the door. He opens it and slips outside, with a smile. He's lost about ten pounds from the flu, and is dressed in sweatpants, an oversized t-shirt, and work boots. His hair is mussed, but his voice is steady, if rough, as he says, "I'm not going to murderate you, Bennie. How are you?"

As the door opens, Bennie instinctually raises a hand as if warding the man, her friend, off. "I realize you could probably make my brain explode or something from fifty paces but, um. Will you stay right there for me? I'll come set your food down on the porch and then back away so you can get it. That's cool, right? At least then I can pretend." That she's safe. It's all an illusion. A bitter ugly illusion.

Assuming he'll do as she asks, Bennie ducks her head and trudges forward with resolve, delivering his meal of saturated fats and zero nutritional value - unless you count soggy lettuce - to the steps of his little hidey hole in the woods.

Alexander takes in a sharp breath. He's not great at hiding his feelings at the best of times, and the hurt flashes there full force, before a rueful sort of acceptance. "Good thinking," is what he says. He raises his hands in the traditional 'I'm unarmed and harmless' pose (although she's right that he's neither of those things), and backs up inside of the cabin, keeping the door open so that she can see he's not grabbing anything. "Bennie," he starts...then seems to realize he has no idea where to go with that sentence and just stares at her. Watching her, trying to pick it out what details he can in the dark. It's a shame his concentrating look is so...cold and reptilian.

Bennie knows that look. Bennie has felt that look.

But the fact that she hasn't gone skittering back off already is the best she can do, given the situation, and she casts furtive glances up at Alexander as she settles the fast food bag down and then backs away again a few dragging steps. "I'd say you look well, but then we'd both know I was lying." She attempts a smile, but it fails miserable, cracking and breaking around the edges until it falls away like flakes of dust just leaving her looking tired and shadowed around the eyes. Her hands now empty, she has nothing to keep them busy, so she crosses one arm over her chest and latches it onto the opposing elbow. "So you...you have this thing too? This urge to..to kill?"

"It's a nice lie to hear," Alexander says, gently. He waits until she's fully backed away, and then moves carefully towards the bag. He takes it, and retreats, but only as far as the door. Which he closes, with himself on the outside. He sits, crosslegged, back against the door. "And I'm no longer likely to projectile vomit on you, so I do look ten times better than I did. August is sleeping. That's why I closed the door." He offers her a brief smile, which then dies as Bennie asks. He doesn't answer immediately, instead turning to investigate the bag and whatever artery-hardening substances she's brought for him. When he does answer, he says, "I suppose you could say that. Yeah." A flick of his eyes back to her. "I'm so sorry. About...you should never have been in harm's way. From any of us. I'm sorry. We should have warned everyone as soon as we realized. But with the flu and people dealing with," a breath, "this, the message didn't get widely enough distributed."

"I'm fine, really." It's such a knee-jerk reaction one might think it was rehearsed. Really, it's meant to reassure. Don't worry about her! All is good! It's a burden she tries to save Alexander from, the need to apologize. To feel guilty. But even then Bennie is raising her fingers to toy with the edge of her scarf and tug it a little higher. Really it's a thing she would tie in her hair on a summery day because the tails trailing behind her as she rides her bike brings her joy. Yet now it's probably a thing she'll burn when it's done hiding its ugly secret.

"But Easton's in a lot of pain. Whatever this is. It's feeding on him. Twisting up his insides worse than the flu ever could have done."

Alexander doesn't miss the reflexiveness of the response, or the tugging upwards of the scarf. And he's a very, very nosy investigator; it's not the first time he's seen someone try to cover up an injury. "Bennie." A long pause. "I know Easton's hurting. This thing is miserable, especially for people who aren't...used to wanting to kill people that they care about." There's the brief, crooked half-smile. "And we'll try to deal with that. But Easton's not here right now, and I'm worried about you." He looks down in the bag, ostensibly searching for a fry in there, as he says, "You don't have to pretend nothing's wrong. This is all fucked up. It's okay to be fucked up by that."

"I am NOT pretending." Bennie's voice comes out at a sudden near shout, barely reeled back from the edge of sounding like she's just about to stamp her foot and stick out her tongue like a petulant child because of how feeble the protest is. She slings her bag off her shoulder in frustration, dropping the heavy weight with a little huff of forest detritus puffing out from beneath it. On closer inspection, even her hobo bag barely stretches over the bottom of a box that's sticking out of the top and must've been quite the burden to trudge into the woods with.

With an indelicate flop of limbs, Bennie drops down next to it. There is a wince on her features, as if the sudden movement causes a bit of pain, but perhaps it's from the sticks and rocks that dig into her bare legs. "If I were pretending, then that would mean it was all real. That would mean that Easton..." She makes an irritated swipe at her cheek, banishing a thread of hair away from where it tickles. "I can't, Alexander. I just can't."

She takes a steading inhale of breath, as if by filling her lungs she'll gain a thread of courage. "Look, if we're not going to talk about what Easton's going through, we can at least talk about this." Bennie peels the and rolls her bag down from the side of a very normal looking box. Very normal besides the bloody handprint on the side of it. "I need a place to stash this until I figure out where it came from."

Alexander recoils from the near shout, then winces as that bangs the back of his head into the closed door. He levels a look at her, and for a moment, his expression is completely blank, except for cold calculation. Then he grimaces, shakes his head, and human warmth comes back into it. "All right, Bennie. All right. I don't have any right to demand it. Or anything."

He takes a deep breath, and rubs at his face with both hands. He looks very tired for a moment, but the appearance of the box draws his head up. He frowns at it. "...well, if it isn't going to blow up August's cabin, I don't mind keeping it for a while. But what's inside of it, and why does it have blood on it?" He extends a hand without thinking about it. "Here. I can read it, if you like." A pause. "Maybe. My abilities have been uncertain."

"You don't have to read it, I did the logical thing and opened it." Bennie pulls open a flap of the box that she had tucked inside the others, the other following suit like a cardboard flower blooming. If he can't see from his vantage point, she's all too happy to do a bit of show and tell. Though perhaps 'happy' isn't the right term. Out of the contents she pulls up a large bottle, a jar really, labelled quite neatly from a pharmaceutical company. "Either someone is doing me a hefty favor, or they're fucking with me." The label doesn't have to be read for it to be easily deduced she's holding up a container of Adderall meant to be shipped to a pharmacy and dispensed in individual prescriptions.

"And I know this isn't like the letters Easton was receiving, because they don't just disappear when I look away. This isn't some illusion. Look." She unscrews the cap of one that obviously isn't sealed any more, fishing her fingers inside and holding up a tablet for him to see. Without really thinking about it, she pops one.

"That's not the sort of reading I meant," Alexander says, gently. His eyes narrow when he sees the giant pharmaceutical bottle. "And they're not doing you a favor, Bennie." He doesn't stop her from popping the pill, or even remark on it, although it's impossible that he missed seeing it. "I may be able to find out where it came from and what emotions the sender was feeling at the moment. When did you receive it, and where?" He keeps his hand extended, patiently awaiting the chance to get his grubby little fingers on it. "Is that your blood? Or Easton's?"

Is that your blood? Or Easton's?

The thought makes Bennie's stomach turn, the muscles in her abdomen clenching and irritating the deep bruise between her ribs. How close it could have been to being her blood. On the sheets, on the carpet. Staining Easton's hands while he grinned mirthlessly over her prone figure, because he had done it. He had finally proven his point: she should have listened to him.

A tremble telegraphs up Bennie's spine, "Neither. The blood was on there when I found it on the steps of my trailer. So they must not have known I'd been staying with..." She swallows his name. With unsteady fingers, she sets the open bottle aside next to her bag and gathers up the box as she stands. She'd make a lousy detective, ruining all the physical evidence with her interference, but Alexander isn't really concerned with the physical. Bennie approaches Alexander much the way she did before, which is skittishly.

Alexander waits. Less like a predator trying to pounce, and more like someone trying to lure a skittish wild animal with stillness and treats. But he doesn't have any treats. He is a bad lure-r. "Maybe," he says, quietly. "It might also just be that the security at Bayside was too much for them." He offers her a brief, warm smile though. He waits until she brings it, and his hand retreats - he'll let her place it where she's comfortable, rather than trying to take it from her, or even making her put it in his hand. "Any chance I could keep the bottle for a bit? You can have the contents, if you need them."

Bennie sets the box down in front of Alexander and retreats a step. Not as far as before, because her curiosity is winning out. When he asks for the bottle though, she glances back to where she left the one behind, perhaps not even realizing she had done so. "Oh." It might be a stupid maneuver, but she turns her back to him in order to retrieve it.

You can have the contents, if you need them.

There is a decision pondered, as she stands there looking down at the large bottle next to her bag, enough to last her six months in just one container, even at her current rate of abuse. Her nails scratch at her thigh, just beneath the him of her skirt, unwittingly looking just like the junkie she claims not to be. "There are only two people that know about this. About my...that my prescription ran out. You. And my dealer. Well, and Easton, if either of us would acknowledge it. Sort of one of those things we've been...we were..." Are they past tense now, or are they pretending about that too? "We've been avoiding talking about." Her desperation wins out, and the bottle is upended into the void of her purse, shaken until every last one tumbles out of the jar and she brings that back too.

"Is there going to be an end of this? Are you guys going to get better?"

"Your pills. His drinking. Yes, I figured." Alexander's voice is blunt, but without judgment; a bit of worry, but no judgment. He also doesn't stab her when she turns her back. He just bends down to pick up the box, brushing his fingers lightly over the bloodstain. His whole body jerks, eyes going wide, then shutting. His breathing is ragged and he hunches over a bit, his jaw working.

Then he shudders and puts the box aside. "Definitely. Definitely give me the bottle. You shouldn't have it." He rubs at his eyes. "Don't tell anyone else about this gift, either." He grimaces, takes a breath, and realized she asked a question. His head jerks in a nod. "Yes. Soon. We have to bury Gohl. Then, we think, this will stop. He'll be at rest and we won't--have his influence anymore."

Bennie stands frozen for a moment as Alexander does his thing, somehow made more disconcerting by recent events. As his body jerks, the blonde actually flinches.

"H-here." She holds out the bottle with fingers that have a tentative hold on the plastic, like it might get dropped at the barest hint of a breeze. She can only numbly nod to the news about the Gohl, focused now with concern and the strong desire to find out what he exactly saw when he did his reading. "I won't, but you have to tell me why I shouldn't tell anyone."

Alexander rubs at his eyes before reaching for the bottle. He's aware of her tentativeness, and tries to take it as gently and nonthreateningly as he can, and peers at the label in more detail before moving to put it in the box. "All right. I think those pills are stolen, and I saw a shootout taking place where they were, so there are probably murders attached to them, as well. Or at least grievous bodily harm. So the police are probably trying to track the stolen pills - and," he sighs, "having them asking you awkward questions isn't going to be good for you right now." He smiles at her. "Don't worry, Bennie. Let me take care of this. And tell me immediately if you get any more gifts - or if anyone comes looking for the drugs." Realizing that probably sounded too much like an order, he coughs. "...sorry. I mean. I would like you to do that. You don't have to."

"I trust you." But even as the words are spoken, it comes across more as if Bennie is trying to remind herself of this fact instead of impart it on Alexander.

"Even at the low end of the street value of those drugs at five dollars a pop, that's a thirty thousand dollar parcel." And there is a good chance that she now has a purse full of loose blood-money pills rattling around. It's a thought that has her bottom lip caught between her teeth and worried as she gives a glance back at it. She should hand them over too, let Alexander do whatever he is going to do with that box. And yet. "Do what you think is best. I was going to confront Greg." No doubt just dropping the name of her dealer, "But maybe I should just pretend as if I never found it?" There is a little shake of her head. When did things become so complicated?

After another moment of silence, she quietly asks, "What am I going to do?" And by the way her hand has gone back to her scarf-clad throat, it's clear she's moved on from the issue of the drugs and back to their original topic.

You know, Alexander hadn't worked out that math for himself. Just yet. When Bennie lays it out there, though, he goes kinda pale. And sighs. Then holds out the bottle. "Back in the bottle. I'm taking the pills. You cannot be walking around with that much in illegal pharmeceuticals, Bennie. Christ. What if you take them and then someone wants them back? I'll keep them safe and secure." And yeah, now it's sort of an order, although he doesn't seem to notice it. "And please, please, do not confront the drug dealer about anything. Pretend nothing ever happened, unless someone specifically asks you questions about them. Then just say you didn't feel right about the box, so you handed it to me. You didn't look inside, you have no idea where it came from or what was in it. Point them in my direction."

He sighs, then, as her attention shifts. His expression pulls tight. "You...have to decide that for yourself, Bennie. I know that the real Easton doesn't want to hurt you, and that he's sick about what happened. But I also know that doesn't change the fact that it did happen, and that you," a pause, "you aren't safe right now. If you're staying with him. I came up here because a friend asked me to - right after I tried to talk him into killing himself. I don't expect that friend to forgive me for that, even if they know that I," a pause, "that I wouldn't do that, normally. Because I hurt them. And even if it wasn't entirely my free will, it was me. We all have darkness, Bennie. Some more than others." He grimaces. "What do you want to do? When it comes down to it."

Bennie gives a helpless little laugh that sounds more on the verge of tears than anything else close to merry. "Go back in time?" She says with desperation in her voice as her finger hooks the loop of her scarf and tugs. The silk whispers away from her throat, uncoiling the loops she meticulously straightened and tightened in the mirror a dozen times over before leaving the house. Her neck is nasty shades of blue and purple the worst of it right over her windpipe and spidering away in the suspicious shape of fingers.

The pills? Can sod off for now.

Yeah, the pills can take a back seat. Alexander sets the bottle to the side when she starts to unwind the scarf. He braces himself, visibly, but it's still -- bad. Something flickers in his eyes as, for one moment, he very clearly contemplates murdering someone. Probably Easton. Probably.

Then he takes a deep, shuddering breath, holds it, lets it out. "Bennie. I'm so sorry." Even Alexander, touch-phobe that he is, has his hands twitch, like he might want to offer a hug. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

The problem with a tiny crack is that it can widen rather quickly, allowing the proverbial flood gates to open.

"Do I want to talk about it? Talk about what? That I got woken up to Easton's hand around my throat. Murder in his eyes. If he would have had a knife, he'd have ended me right then?" Her hand flippantly flips up the side of her thermal, just a brief sight of her bruised ribs bared where it confirms what Alexander was told about being 'stabbed' with a phone. "That I fought him off and then he got on my back and I had to endure the most vitriol tone in his voice as his whispered in my ear? Talk about that? Why? When I want to throw up every time I think about it? That it's all I can do to stop from curling up in a little ball and crying myself to sleep? To stop myself from just taking handful after handful of those damn pills until I just can't feel anymore?" Bennie's frame shakes so violently from a shackled in sob that they might rattle apart at the joints. "What if I can't even stand the sight of him anymore? What if when he's better, every time I look at him all I'll see is him looming over me with his fingers on my neck. Every time he whispers 'I love you', I'll only hear his voice telling me I should have listened. I should have listened!" The tears start and she can no longer keep them in check. Like everything else, Bennie's tried to bury it so deeply, but the wound to her soul is as fresh as the one on her neck.

"What am I going to do, Alexander? What am I going to do?!"

Yes, in the very back tiny corner of her brain she knows he, at this moment, is probably not the best person to ask. But she needs him. She needs someone who knows Easton just as well as he knows her. Even if that means opening up a vulnerability that's like a giant target.

Alexander...listens. If he's murderous, he at least seems to be containing it right now. Well enough to listen without any outbursts of violence, even if his fists curl tight for a moment, before releasing. He listens, and he watches her with dark, sad eyes. "Bennie. There aren't any easy answers to any of that. Which you know, I'm sure." He runs his hands through his hair. "When Easton's cured of this affliction it won't erase what he did to you. It won't. But--it is an affliction, not who he truly is. I don't think he would ever lay a hand on you without something like this pushing at him." He looks down at his knees. "But that doesn't change the hurt of it, or the way you feel. I know that. And it doesn't mean your fear isn't justified. We're all dangerous right now. We are hurting the people we care about the most. And you," he grimaces, "you have to protect yourself. I haven't seen Isabella in the flesh since I tried to kill someone. Because I do not want ever want to be in a position where I can hurt her."

Bennie throws up her hands, "Great. Right. So I should have listened to him." Apparently that's what he meant, that she should have left. Stayed somewhere else. Apparently that's what she's taking away from this little conversation.

She starts winding the scarf back around her neck, as the tears tumble over her lashes and down her cheeks unchecked. They are frantic motions, not nearly neat and tidy and buttoned up as had it affixed before. The ends of the cheery fabric are stuffed down the front of her shirt in such haste it causes a flicker of pain across her features. It's enough to remind her to stow away her emotions.

"Sorry, your burger is getting cold." Pack it back away in its neat little box, Bennie, deflect the compassion back to others. She leans down to snag up the empty bottle and go back to her purse. "I didn't know if liked ketchup or mustard or mayo, so I just had them leave it plain and then I put those little packages in there for you along with some plasticware."

"I don't know what that means," Alexander says, quietly. "But probably not? I don't..." he groans under his breath. "Bennie, I'm not good at people. If it weren't for the Captain, I'd be locked in a room in my house right now, because isolating myself when I become scared or dangerous is what's my first inclination. But that's not right for everyone. It's probably not even right for me." A sigh. "You didn't do anything wrong. You know that, right? What happened wasn't your fault. It wasn't because you were there, or because you didn't say the right thing or do something. It's not...it's just not your fault, Bennie." He ignores everything about the burger, and just studies her with sorrow and frustration warring for control.

Bennie makes an errant wipe at her cheek, this time to smear away tears instead of an annoying lock of her hair. "Easton knew. He knew what he was capable of if he was caught off guard. If he couldn't control it. I should have listened to him," She just starts arguing against Alexander as she drops to her knees and starts digging through her purse, coming up with handfuls of pills and no doubt lint and funneling it back into the empty jar as requested. "But he had the flu, I couldn't just leave him there to fend for himself." Even though her hands are shaking, her voice is once again calm. "I should have at least stayed in the other room or on the couch. Given him space. I mean, it's no cabin in the woods but it would have been something. Anyways. It's fine, it'll fade. You'll bury Gohl and then everything will just go back to the way it was." Nearly a thousand pills is a lot to try and dig out from personal belongings, so what if a handful or two don't make it back into the bottle?

"Don't make this your fault, Bennie. Just...don't. If you're going to blame anyone, blame Gohl." Alexander's hands flutter. "You did the best you knew how to do. Easton did the best he could. And it just all got fucked. I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry." He takes a deep breath. "I think...you should consider talking to someone, Bennie. Someone qualified to help you with this. Getting hurt by someone you love and trust is--it lingers. It doesn't just fade. If you don't deal with it."

Bennie makes a faux-cheery motion of dismissal back at Alexander. "Oh, it's totally that bastard's fault. But what about you? I'm sorry you had to go through that with your friend. I can look in on them for you if you like, while you're still riding it out. Must be hard to be isolated. You're not as bad at people as you think, you know. I seem to recall you offered a girl a cold beverage on a hot day and made her take a rest." A smile makes its way to her lips, and while it's genuine, it's tight around the edges. "You should really eat though, you look like a waif. The flu diet isn't the most healthy way to loose weight."

There's a flicker in Alexander's face at the cheery motion of dismissal. "Please don't do that, Bennie," he says, very quietly and very calmly. "It irritates me. And my friend is fine, thank you. Or," a long pause, "not fine, but as fine as we can manage at the moment." His voice is very even, very controlled. "You can't just...take care of people extra hard when you're the one who needs help, you know. It doesn't fix the problems." He does reach out for the bag, and fetch the burger from it. He even eats a bit, although it seems as much to just make her feel better as anything. His eyes never leave her. "Thank you. For the food. And the company."

Bennie pauses briefly in her pill recovery, just a little hitch in her giddy up as Alexander asks her kindly not to do that thing. It irritates him. No doubt right now, it's certainly a warning she'll heed.

As to the rest, it just gets a minuscule shrug. "You are helping me. You're taking these drugs off my hands. And while I can't help but think of all the myriad of problems it might solve if I kept them, if I sold some of them, well...you're saving me from a whole host more and dangerous ones at that. For that, I am eternally grateful, I hope you know that. It's a burden I hate to pass off on someone else. You're a real peach, Alexander. Seriously. You're definitely on my Christmas card list." Is Bennie the type that still sends out personalized Christmas cards? You bet your sweet hiney.

"You don't want to get involved in drug distribution, Bennie. It never ends well." Alexander's lips press together. "I'm not doing enough. I wish I could--" He pauses. Studies her. "Would you let me try something? Just...to help out a little. If I can. It might not even work. My abilities are being unreliable. And it would involve," a longer pause, "I'd be exerting influence over your emotions. Just a little, but it would be changing something in you."

How does Bennie slowly start to regain her sunshine in a situation like this? With a little help from her friends, of course. As she's packing up the pills, she just happens to toss another one in her mouth, tilting her chin up to dry swallow it like a pro.

"You already took a risk once for me tonight with your glimmer. We both know you don't need any more negative attention for you to try your mojo again." She once more gets back to her feet, dusting off her knees of dirt and bits of leaves without much of a care. She's clearly not one of those high maintenance girls afraid to get her hands dirty in the woods but that doesn't mean she needs that twig stuck to her shin. Strolling back over, much more hyper focused than before and a bit more brazen, she juts out her hand with the pill bottle. "Here you go, boss." Even if they aren't all exactly present and accounted for.

Alexander takes the pill bottle. But he doesn't have to like it! He frowns at her. Opens his mouth. Then closes it again and just shakes his head. He tucks the bottle into the box, and looks at it with a hint of bewilderment. "I think I'm going to have to hide this behind the damned futon, and just hope August stays sick for another couple of days." A low chuckle, then, before he turns his attention back to Bennie. "Just...be safe, okay? As soon as the coffin is finished, we're going to finish this."

"Mmhmm!" Bennie assures as brightly as she can manage. "Just bring my man back in one piece!" Making a coffin, burying Gohl. What could go wrong? "So are you going to tell me what your master plan for the drugs is, or are you maintaining that silly rule that the less I know in this case, the better?" Before she takes her leave of Alexander and returns to the real world, she starts futzing with her appearance. Using the sleeve of her flannel, she starts to clean up her face, running the cuff of it beneath her eyes before she straightens her scarf meticulously, stepping aside to use the reflection in the window to assist. Nothing to see here!

"I haven't decided," Alexander admits. "I'm going to have to think on it. But the less you know is better, Bennie. I'll do my absolute best to keep you out of it." He takes a deep breath. "I might need to not make a final decision until this is all gone, anyway. My decision-making skills aren't the best, right now." He watches her put herself back together with a frown. "Bennie..." Whatever he wanted to say, he doesn't finish it. Just tears into the burger with a sort of savage intensity. It's not THAT tasty. But after he's demolished half of it, he says, "Thank you. For coming by. For being you. I like the real you a lot."

"That's fair." She says of the drugs before Bennie starts sweeping up her hair with a comb of her fingers, drawing it all high on the back of her head before she starts securing it with an elastic from around her wrist. "I'm not sure if that's an insult or not." She admits with a wry tilt of her lips as she looks back to Alexander with her elbows in the air. Three quick and well versed twists and she releases her hair into its pony tail. "You have a little..." And this is where Bennie normally would just reach out to wipe away the sesame seed at the corner of Alexander's mouth for him, but even under normal circumstances she attempts to be respectful of his personal space. Probably the only person on the planet that gets such deference. Instead, she makes a little gesture at the corner of her own mouth to indicate the intruder.

Alexander reaches up at the gesture, wipes it away. There's a brief smile for her. "It's not an insult. It's just a...frustration. You're an interesting whole person. Just seeing one tiny piece of that pushed to the forefront all the time - it's your choice, but I think it's a poor one." He puts the bottle into the box, and then slowly stands up, taking the bag in his other hand. There. His two hands occupied by things that would be super hard to kill her with. "I should check on August. But...let me know. If there's anything I can do to help. Or if anything changes. Or if you need - I can give you the key to my house. Isolde had to check herself into the hospital. You'd have the place to yourself, but for the animals."

There is a flicker in Bennie's eyes as he tells her that she rarely shows her 'whole' self. Maybe a hint of regret? Self loathing? Shame? It's rather hard to pinpoint unless he were to invade her mind, because like he so clearly stated, she pushes that tiny piece of herself to the forefront. "You should totally give me your key anyways, if Isolde is in the hospital - gosh, poor dear - I'll check in on your bird and cat and make sure they aren't recreating a Looney Tunes cartoon without proper supervision. And you know, feed them to prevent it as soon as I leave." And should she just happen to stay over instead of crashing at the Firehouse? Well, then so be it.

"I'd appreciate that, actually. They have to be getting lonely." Alexander juggles things until he can reach into the pocket of the sweatpants and pull out a very small key ring. It's tossed in her direction once she's got plenty of warning. "The bird is Luigi. He does bite if he doesn't know you, so just give him his space. The cat is Blue Bell. She likes to sleep on people and she's very vocal. Her food is in the second cabinet to the right under the sink, and Luigi gets a mix of parrot pellets from that cabinet, and fresh veggies from the fridge." A pause. "There's a locked door. Please don't open it." A small smile. "Thank you, Bennie. And, if it happens to come up, there's fresh linen in the hall closet."

Oh sure. Drop a thing like 'don't open the locked door' and not expect at least a partially suspect cant of Bennie's head as she catches the keys. "Sure, no problem." She says to all of it, no doubt making a clear mental note of everything judging by the dilation in her eyes. "Happy to help!" She chirps and blows a little air kiss in his direction before turning to bounce off the porch. Calling back, "You know, you missed a clear opportunity in naming the cat Mario. Then I could regale them both about how their princess is in another castle!"