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Rachel has yet to find what useful purpose Dean serves to this world or any other. So far his driving skills, propensity for violence, and taste in music has been far outweighed by the pure annoying of his personality.

The number of punches she's dealt his shoulder has multiplied ever since she hit her head, too. Maybe Jo was attracted to men that tried to baby her but Rachel would take a monster over a concerned individual any day of the week.

Which is why she had no problem with stealing one of Dean's guns after they'd made camp and he'd gone off to-- do whatever it was he was going to do. Se has her own, of course, but it doesn't serve her purpose.

It isn't shiny.

"Mort?" Rachel frowns and glances over her shoulder to make sure no one's around to see her acting like a crazy woman, talking to a gun. "C'mon, I need to talk to you."

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Unfortunately, Steph has sharp eyes.

"Oh... it's you." She pulls the bike up a safe distance away and drops one leg to the ground, eyeing Rachel warily.

As if the other girl might leap at her and attack her at any moment.

"What are you doing back this close to the farm?"

Rachel tries not to roll her eyes and sigh quite so obviously.

...wait, no, she doesn't.

"Passing through," she snaps in answer, sighing sharply and turning to head back toward the car. "Don't you have some kittens to go save?"

Steph glares at her. "Don't you have some victims to go murder?"

"Victims?" Rachel snaps, whirling on her, eyes narrowed and angry. "Victims?! You have such a problem with murderers - the freaks controlling the zombies that tried to eat us, they're victims?!"

"Would have been nice if we waited to find out, wouldn't it?" Steph asks, folding her arms. "That wasn't the only zombie crowd overrunning places, you know."

It still stings that she hadn't been able to save them. Or even to find out if they were guilty.

"Yeah. I have a problem with murderers."

"I have a problem with people who think that wishing a problem away actually works," Rachel snarls, hands on her hips. "Don't even try to change your explanation now - you aren't mad that we didn't interrogate them, you're pissed off I killed them instead of taking them to kiddie jail. Wah. I noticed you didn't stay to help bury the bodies or clean up the blood. Too busy running back home to people who could congratulate you on getting away from the monster, huh?"

"Oh, screw you!" Steph glares at her. "Sorry if I didn't want to stay around a psychotic shapeshifter!"

She hasn't told anyone about the zombies yet; not even Sokka. That just makes Rachel's words hurt more. And makes her angrier.

"Must be nice not to be human. Do you even remember what it was like when you were?"

Rachel's words die in her throat, glaring furiously.

Trying not to show how much that hurts.

In a sharp movement, Dean's gun is lifted, aimed, and cocked back.

"Yeah, I do," she says quietly, voice trembling with anger, fighting to keep her expression blank. "You know what I remember best? How fragile humans are."

She doesn't shoot but her arm isn't lowering either.

Steph doesn't blink, furious glare staying trained on Rachel's face. It's far from the first time she's stared down the barrel of a gun.

"So you're going to kill me now? Great, that'll definitely make you not the monster here," she snarls.

Because when confronted with an angry gun-wielding psychotic, it's always wise to make them angrier, of course.

"If I'm lucky, it'll shut you the hell up," Rachel growls, a flash of anger ~~pain~~ across her face. "You're incredible - you yell at me for not giving real murderers a chance to explain while you call someone you barely know a murderer with no evidence that I've ever killed anyone that didn't deserve it!"

She drops the gun and throws out her free arm, pointing back the way Steph had come. "Why don't you just go?!"

"That's the whole point!"

She should go, she really should. There's no point in staying here arguing.

But ... maybe she can convince Rachel to at least think about her actions. And that would be worth it.

"You've killed people! What happens now if you find out they were innocent all along? Who gave you the right to decide!?"

"Because I know they weren't innocent!" Rachel snaps. "I've never killed anyone that I didn't know deserved it! Who the hell are you to judge me?!"

"Who am I?" Steph's glare would be shooting daggers, if she had eyes that could shoot daggers. Which is a weird mutation and probably a good thing that she doesn't have it, really. "I'm someone who faces the same choice all the time and makes the right decision! The one that doesn't involve killing people! Why is that so hard to understand?"

"Because I'm the one that picks up the messes people like you make!" Rachel snarls, stepping forward and pointing at Steph - with her empty hand, the gun held at her side. "Every time you've given a slap on a wrist and walked away, it's people like me to have to watch as some creep you could have gotten rid of hurts more people! I do what you don't have the guts to!

"The right decision isn't the one that lets you sleep at night, Steph, it's the one that keeps innocent people alive!"

"You are so full of shit," Steph snaps. "Just because you think they deserve to die doesn't mean you have the right to kill them! And they don't always hurt people again, because they're human and they can learn!

"Unlike some."

"All humans but me, huh? Yeah, you're right, you're not judgmental at all, you're a goddamn angel of mercy!

Tobias is gone. The thought hits her abruptly, harder than it had even in his meadow and her teeth are bared and she's growling abruptly, incredibly furious with her grip tightening on the gun.

"Just get away from me!"

"No!" Steph folds her arms, furious. "If you can't face your own actions then it's your problem, not mine! And killing people is crossing the line. Doesn't matter why you think you're justified."

That's it.

Rachel drops the gun in the dirt and walks faster, closer to Steph, snapping and growling all the way. "You're the one with a problem, not me! I've got no problem, none at all, with killing a couple of creeps using zombies to kill innocent people in a goddamn shopping mall, I've got no problem with any of the choices I've ever made!"

Tom

"And that's your problem," Steph snaps, standing her ground, falling back into a ready stance and waiting. "Don't attack me. You'll regret it."

"Why the hell shouldn't I when you've been attacking me since I met you?!" Rachel growls. "And shut up! I don't have a problem, I don't regret anything I've done!"

David.

"Which is why I'm not walking away from you!" Steph throws her hands up, frustrated. "If you can't see that it's a problem, then I'm not letting you one foot closer to my family on the farm!"

Rachel freezes, staring at her with narrowed blue eyes and a dropped jaw. Her brows lift sharply and her hands find her hips again. "What do you think I do, go from town to town killing random people? Unless you've got a family full of murderers, I don't give a damn who's living at the little farm on the prairie! We're not even going there!"

Edited 2008-09-08 01:30 (UTC)

"Good," Steph snaps. "Don't. I mean it."

She stays right where she is, planted firmly in the road in front of her bike, in a clear statement: you go there only if you go through me.

"How the hell do I know how you define murderers?"

"Because I've been telling you this entire time maybe?" Rachel growls. "I can't believe you, you moron, this entire world is filled with monsters and real killers and you're out to get me?! What's the matter, the real threats too much work for your precious little morals, you've got to mess with someone you don't think will fight back?!"

"I'm not out to get anyone!" Steph snaps back. "I'm trying to help you! I don't think you're beyond hope!"

Although she's starting to.

"And stop calling me precious!"