Hello Sunshine

Goddammit. She refuses to just feed this little guy for a day and then let him go on the way he apparently has been.

"You know you don't have to prove anything, right? If you've got a dad who worries about you, it's okay to let him help."

 

"...well... yeah.." He groans, then sprawls back onto the sand, glaring up at the stars. "But. I dunno. I guess. Maybe I'm more like Dad-Mom? I mean. He's. I want to go and just ... wander? He got to just travel for a long time. I'm. I'm jealous?"

He sighs, sitting up, and pushes a hand across his head, scales fading into his skin and leaving him a scruffy young boy with short, oddly-textured blonde hair and mottled skin. "...I just want to prove I'm grown up, too. I mean... mom-dad was fending for himself when he was nine! And I'm thirteen and Dad still wants to keep an eye on me..."

 

... I wish mine had found me. Sunshine says quietly. ...but it's okay. I've got you, now, and we're gonna live forever!

 

...are they? That seems questionable, and Corrie's getting the feeling that Sunshine doesn't actually know much more about their situation than she does. She's going to have to look into this soon. There will certainly be woo-crusted corners of the Internet. It's absolutely going to be annoying.

That's for when she gets back, though, which is for after she's sorted out this angsty teenage mutant Gila monster. "Well, you picked the desert, that's kind of hard-mode on fending for yourself. Looks like you can look pretty human if you want. So maybe try civilization first?"

 

"...but... Like. That's people there? And you need money and stuff? Dad would be super mad." He frowns. "And I dunno where town is, right now, anyway. I got looost."

 

"You can get money, and what's wrong with people?" There's obviously something going on with this family, too, but Corrie doesn't have time to go deeply into it. The urgency of getting back in touch with Lee hasn't disappeared just because she can't just leave a starving teenager here... "Look, I'm about to head into town anyway. You can just follow me. Even ride with me, if you'll promise to behave yourself."

 

"...people don't hire kids for stuff, I'd have to steal wallets. I don't wanna." He perks up. "..I won't eat anything in your truck, I don't do that." He crosses his arms, then thinks about it, and pushes himself to his feet.

 

"Good to hear," says Corrie, as she starts picking up the rest of her stuff. That's all she needs, is to be fucking up the rent-a-car or creating new pickpockets. "And, you know, teenagers get part-time jobs all the time. It should work out. Especially since I guess you won't need to pay for rent, right? You can probably sleep just about wherever, as a lizard."

 

"I'm thirteen, tho..." he huffs. "Dad says I can't get a job until I'm fifteen... it's super dumb."

 

"...huh." Corrie's parents had been downright enthusiastic about the idea of her starting to earn her own spending-money. Had dropped some pretty heavy hints before it had eventually happened, for that matter, although her increasingly spendy art habits had probably had something to do with it. "Why's that?"

 

"Uh. I think it's. Like. Legal stuff? I dunno. He said I'm not old enough," he grumbles, grabbing some of Corrie's gear and hefting it, clearly attempting to help.

 

Fortunately, the breakable stuff had been the first thing Corrie picked up, so she can be properly appreciative of this. "Thanks. -I'd imagine he'd prefer a job over just roughing it in a desert, anyway. Even as a Gila monster." Not that she has a damn clue what monsters and sun-gods would prefer, but it seems a safe assumption about parents. Halfway decent ones, anyway, in her very decided opinion. "Okay, that looks like everything. I was over this way."

 

"I dunno, I didn't ask," Eirik replies helpfully, trailing after her. "I'm probably grounded if I go home, now, so that's a bad idea."

 

Maybe there's some stories about sun gods that would tell us something?

 

One more thing to look up. "We'll figure it out," she says firmly.

It's entirely possible that Eirik should be grounded over this. She certainly would have been if she'd tried something nearly this stupid at that age, though she's not sure how these things work for lizard monsters. But that's all secondary for now.

 

He nods, then clambers up the truck, perching on the hood.

 

Corrie unlocks the doors, opens them, stows her gear. Then, after a long, silent moment in which it becomes clear that he's not coming down unprompted, she says "Maybe it would be better if you rode on the inside? Besides, I've got a favor to ask."

She digs out her cell phone, turns it back on, and points to where the bars are displayed. "I've got to call someone as soon as I can, so when one of those bars fills in, I need someone to let me know."

 

He hesitates, then sticks his head in, before slowly scrambling into the passenger seat. "Oh. Okay, I can do that!"

 

...that's a phone? Sunshine asks, voice full of wonder. ..our friend?

 

Oh. Yeah, he probably died before cell phones were really a thing, didn't he? Yeah. It's actually kind of an older model now, they keep coming up with even shinier toys to add. And yeah, I'm calling Lee.

As Corrie slides into the driver's seat, the tent-peg in her belt starts to dig uncomfortably into her side, so she pulls it out and sets it aside. Or starts to. Then she passes it over her shoulder, instead, to where Sunshine's presence has most often seemed to be. Can you hang onto this for now? It's a little inconvenient to carry around.