"We'll explore our lovely new hideout," he said simply, before plopping down on the stairs and leaning with his legs against the wall. Not the most comfortable spot in the world, but he'd sat in worse positions. All night Playstation marathons tended to lend themselves to uncomfortable situations.
Connor rolled his eyes in playful annoyance at her cheek. "Oh, brill, thanks. If only we could find some crayons for Andy. But then, he'd only like it if it were a turtle. Ought to draw that, that would make for some entertainment." Things so didn't look good, not from the words written all through the journal. They were definitely trapped. Not really his idea of a fun time. Of course, there'd been a time when he wouldn't have thought playing with a bunch of six year-olds when he was physically twenty-three was fun, either, but in his situation, one took what they could get.
What had he been doing? Well, if that wasn't a bit of a downer, nothing was. He tried to smile. "A uh... A friend of mine had just...passed." Been murdered, more like. In Connor's arms, no less. But may as well not make the morbid discussion even more morbid. "It was probably when I was walking away from my friends...that's the last thing I remember." Abby had tried her damnedest to comfort him, but he was a bit beyond it at that point. He'd held her while she'd cried, then turned away to leave. He'd needed some time for him. And then... "And now, what do you know? I'm here. You?" Her story had to be at least a bit better.