Tim was thrown back into waking when the train stopped suddenly. Despite the fact that he had slept in the car, he quickly found there wasn't much to do in the traincar besides sleep. For a few seconds he was confused about where he was, after all the locale switching he'd been doing recently, but sooner than he would have liked everything came back to him.

He listened to the grating noise of metal against metal as the wheels sped along the track. The car they were in swayed from one side to the other nervewrackingly, and Tim became involved in convincing himself that it wasn't going to tip over. He had nearly convinced himself of this when the track curved around a hill, and someone else's elbow was jabbed into his stomach.

"Christ...," Tim groaned as the other person crawled off of him.

"Sorry," Hollywood muttered, thus identifying himself. "I didn't know you were there."

"Obviously. What are you doing?," Tim asked, rubbing his injured tummy. He heard, rather than saw, the other man sit down next to him.

"Moving," Hollywood answered concisely. "This sitting in the dark shit is starting to get to me."

"Yeah," Tim agreed. "Maybe you should try sleeping."

Hollywood shook his head as he lit a cigarette, the air around them being illuminated for a few seconds as he did. "I can't with all this rocking."

"It is kinda...nauseating," Tim admitted.

"Don't puke on me, dude."

Tim laughed, then silence was prominent again, the train moving side to side and Hollywood's cigarette alternating between being bright and going dull as he took drags off of it.

"It's hard to sleep without him here, anyway," Hollywood spoke again after a moment.

Tim wasn't sure what to say; he couldn't say he knew how it felt. Since their friends had died, he'd been sleeping fine - with Jesse. Of course, now that Jesse wasn't here, he found he wasn't having any trouble sleeping either. Obviously, it wasn't as hard for him. "I'm sorry, man."

"Thanks," Hollywood said quietly, then cleared his throat. "But we've already been over that, and I'm being a whiney bitch, so I'll shut up."

"It's all right," Tim told him. "I mean...you don't have to. It's not like there's much for me to do if you shut up anyway, except sit here and get sick."

"You really think listening to me whine is any better?," Hollywood asked, and Tim could hear the smirk in his voice.

"I'll tell you when it gets worse," Tim assured him.

Hollywood was quiet for a few moments, finishing his cigarette and putting it on on the floor before beginning to talk. "It's not just that...I mean, I've known him since we were pretty young. It's almost like..."

"Losing a brother?," Tim suggested when Hollywood faltered.

"Yeah, only not, cuz that's really wrong," Hollywood said. "I don't really know what to do with myself without him around, I guess. Constantly feel like I'm missing something. I think I'd feel that way even if we hadn't been together, or whatever."

Tim nodded into the darkness. "Lars and I knew each other for a long time, too. We weren't as close as you and Stax, obviously, but...I kinda know what you mean."

"Yeah," Hollywood muttered. "When you love someone, it hurts when they're gone...no matter what sort of love it was, I guess."

Tim made a noise of agreement, chewing on his lip in thought.

"You think you love Jesse?," Hollywood queried, breaking through his thoughts.

Shrugging, Tim paused before answering. "I dunno. Didn't really have much time to figure it out."

Hollywood laughed, surprising Tim. He turned towards him slightly, although he couldn't see him.

"What?," he asked as Hollywood's laughter subsided.

"Sorry, I shouldn't laugh," Hollywood told him. "I just never thought you had to 'figure out' that sort of thing."

"Yeah, maybe you're right," Tim said, an edge to his voice. "In that case I guess I do love him."

"You're such a tactless asshole, Hollywood," Dana's voice came from across the traincar before Hollywood had a chance to respond.

"Shuttup and go back to sleep, cuntface," Hollywood told her.

"I can't. You moved."

"Yeah, I moved because my arm was numb because you fell asleep on it," he reminded her.

"You're a shitty pillow anyway," she said. There was a bit of scuffling as she crawled across the floor to join them. After a moment, Tim felt her lay her head in his lap and stretch out across the floor.

"Glad your sense of direction is better than Hollywoods," Tim told her. "He almost killed me a minute ago."

"That was an accident, I fell over," Hollywood pointed out. "I have a great sense of direction."

Dana snorted dersively, but her reply was interrupted when the train lurched violently and started losing speed.

"Oh, fuck, we're gunna die," Hollywood decided, hugging his knees to his chest.

"I think," Tim started.

"The train's stopping," Dana finished for him.

Indeed, the train continued to rapidly slow down until it had come to a complete stop, the offensive noise caused by the brakes making all three of them cover their ears and wince. Once it had ceased moving, Dana sat up.

"C'mon," she told Tim and Hollywood. "We should hide behind some of these boxes so we can sneak off after they open the door."

Her idea was in vain, however. The door to the car was pulled open, sunlight pouring in and nearly blinding them. A silhouette started yelling as soon as the door was fully open.

"What the fuck...you guys aren't supposed to be here!"

Tim glanced at Hollywood, his pupils still adjusting to the sudden overload of light. Hollywood squinted back at him, and they stared at each other for a few moments trying to formulate some sort of response. They didn't have to.

Dana had hopped off of the traincar, strategically placing herself so that she knocked the worker to the ground. Three more workers were quick to take his place, one of them succeeding in restraining her after another had been dropped by a well placed kick to the stomach. This spurred Tim and Hollywood into action, both of them jumping off the train as well. Dana had dug two fingers harshly into the side of the neck of the worker who had her contained, and he cried out in pain as he dropped to the ground. Tim made a note of asking her how she did that, but not before he too had engaged in a sort of hand-to-hand combat with a worker.

Alerted by the shouts of their fellow employees, several more people came around the side of the car. It only took a few glances between Dana, Hollywood and Tim before the three of them had taken off towards the dense forest that lay nearby.

They made it about fifty feet into the thick foliage before pausing. Hollywood was already clutching his side and wheezing, but Dana didn't take the open opportunity to make fun of him this time.

"Which way?," Tim asked.

Dana glanced around and only shrugged, but Hollywood decisively motioned to the left. With the shouts of the train station employees drawing ever nearer, there was no time to argue, so they took off running once again in the direction he'd indicated.