Amy's trailer: Amy M/Si M
The temperature had dropped outside enough that when he and Amy got back from their impromptu road trip, Si had a lot of space heaters to tinker with and get going in short order. Destiny was gone and Hookerville seemed to still be shifting under such a sudden change, but the least he could do was make good on what he'd told her he'd do. So, when he pulled plaid over his too-big sweater, Si just tucked the handful of thermal fuses he didn't want to lose into his breast pocket. He'd come and finish up later. He couldn't concentrate as it was. Agitation was like a live wire inside of him, jumping. At least he wasn't going through any withdrawal at the moment. Just one little shot to keep himself from feeling bad, to contain the symptoms. And he'd be back at looking at rehab places.
This was the promise he made himself as he rucked up the sleeves to his flannel as he stepped out of the bus, ducking his head under the eave. He looked across the dirt road toward Amy's trailer, just taking it in. Then, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand, checking one way, but not the other, Si loped toward his sister's place.—He was annoyed. Not at Amy. Not even precisely at Jamie, but partially. Si had some patience. But, the last few days had been hard, physically and emotionally, and he probably needed a fucking nap. How many hours had he slept total in the past, what? Three nights? Eight, maybe, altogether. He rubbed a palm over the back of his head, passing it up, until finally he ran a hand over his face. He knocked on Amy's door, just one dull tap of a single knuckle.