Will Byers

He hadn't planned on speaking up again, but that clear, grossed out look makes him laugh. "See Sam? Even the kid thinks that's gross."

Breakdown had to admit, if only to himself, that the runt was kind of cute, looking at Sam like some kind of hero. It was highly amusing, if nothing else.

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“Never you mind, then.” Sam's tone was amiable enough, though her free hand came to her hip with an audible clap; more or less a piece of punctuation. “I'm not a bubbles-and-ballgown witch, either, but the bottom line is I'm not a bad witch. If 'witch' is the word you want to use.”

She heaved a long-suffering and utterly insincere sigh at Breakdown's laughter, patting through her pockets until she found a few coarse brown foodcourt napkins to wad the skin up in. A bit of blood got on her hand in the process, but she didn't much mind; just wiped it off, indifferent, and answered, “I didn't say it wasn't gross. It's just not that gross. I will spare you the 'compared to,' though, since there is a child present.” She pocketed the little ball of paper and skin as if it were a receipt to be re-read and thrown away, then offered Will her hand.

“We should get you back to your mom soon. Anything you wanna ask, kiddo, you oughtta ask quick.”

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Will's still poking at his knee, but he grins a little at the fact that the enormous talking truck thinks a bit of human blood is "gross". He glances over his shoulder, at the open door, like he's debating the merits of climbing inside. Is that rude? That's probably rude.

Still, even though it's still only early September, and he's been outside for mere minutes, he's waifish enough that he's starting to shiver, huddling down where he sits. Sam's voice has him looking back up at her, brow furrowing for a moment before he speaks.

"Can you do other things? Fix...bigger things?"

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The runt would get out his question, but Sam wouldn't get a chance to answer before Breakdown interjected. He saw the look, and he shivering.

"You need to either get in or go in, kid. I've got a heater I can run if you need."

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What would be rude? Ignoring that offered hand up... if Will's attention wasn't so obviously on his knee. He'd had a very full five minutes, so Sam couldn't fault him for focusing on one thing at a time. She folded her hands and opened her mouth to answer, but Breakdown spoke before she could. She didn't mind that, though the glance Will cast at the 'Con's interior fed a faint uneasiness in her; he'd been away from his mom (had to be his mom: he hadn't corrected her, and they resembled each other enough she was sure) a little while, but that little while was long enough.

(for the woman to wake and flip shit)

Still, Sam answered---once she had an opening. “Yeah, I can do other things. But fixing 'bigger stuff' depends. For fixing, I'm more or less limited to stuff you can see. Like, a scrape, a burn, a scar, a bruise? That I can do, no problem, but I can't do deep.” She shrugged a little, shifting to cross her arms.

“If it was a bad burn, the tissue at and under a certain depth would stay damaged. Or, say, if someone had a puncture wound that went in enough, I could have it fine on top, but that last bit left would still bleed until it stopped on its own.”

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Will's a little overstimulated right now, so he alternates between looking up at Sam and looking back at the warm, cozy inside of the talking truck. He stays right where he is, arms coming to cross over his knees to try and hide how he's shivering. There's a bit of a wind kicking up and it goes right through him. Still, until Sam says he can get inside, he's not moving. Congrats, Sam, you're officially the designated Adult Type.

"No broken bones and stuff? Even though bruises are technically under the skin?" He's going to poke all the holes he can into the logic he's given.

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That's not how to move to get in or go in, kid. So he decides to speed things up a bit. Sorry to be an ass and all, but he'll shift and transform, the kid now cupped in his hand.

"You can keep talking once you're warmed up, runt." The term isn't meant to be degrading at all, he sounds amused if anything. He looks at Sam. "You wanna take him in or sit in the cab with the heater?" Since the kid wasn't making a choice.

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“No broken bones or—-well, if I could touch it, I might be able to do something about a perforated intestine, but I don't really want to test that, and nobody should want me to test that.” Sam was caught somewhere between 'careful consideration' and a pfff which could have lifted into a real laugh, but that lasted only until Breakdown transformed. Before he'd even finished the transition to root mode, the adept was standing open-mouthed and aghast.

“What are you doing?!” The words were out without being weighed, but not without a second, third, or fourth thought---no, those were clearly why, what if someone sees, and you indiscrete asshole. “This---this is not a great time or place for this. Breakdown. Really? Why.”

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Will's next line of questioning -- regarding the possibility of a perforated intestine being somewhere that Sam could touch it -- is abruptly interrupted when the seat he's sitting on becomes...not a seat anymore. Rather, it becomes what seems to be an enormous hand, which is attached to an enormous robot. Will completely loses his balance, tumbling forward and bracing himself with his hands, letting out a startled "oof!"

Then, after a heartbeat of staring around wild-eyed, he looks up at Breakdown, very slowly. And, rather than completely losing his composure (which is...completely understandable), he grins.

"Ohhh, you're a robot!" He sounds...almost relieved? In his world of weirdness, "giant robot" is less strange than "talking truck", apparently.

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He'd kept a hand around the boy, just to make sure he didn't fall, but had at least kept it close tot he ground. He smirked at the kid's enthusiasm.

"Alien robot. And alive just like you, Runt." And with a rather pirate-y metal eye-patch to boot. Also, sorry, Will, seems Runt is your new nickname.

"Now, in the cab, or are you finishing this talk inside?"

By the way, he's totally ignoring Sam's questions. He's an ass like that.

Edited Date: 2017-12-30 05:18 am (UTC)

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Will grinned, and Sam ran both hands over her hair; after a moment to get over her shock, she was more exasperated than agitated, but still uneasy. Her hands fell to her hips and she said to herself, “I've been in transit too long for this shit so early.” She might not have meant it, but she didn't expect the others to pay her much mind---until she kicked at Breakdown for his attention.

“He should see inside your cab so that he doesn't die of unsatisfied curiousity, but then we need to make sure he's not being missed.”

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Will can't stop grinning, in fact, moving to his stomach and army-crawling to the edge of Breakdown's hand, peering down at Sam and kicking his feet a little at how high up he is. "Awww, she's asleep, she won't know," he wheedles, offering Sam his biggest, most beseeching Bambi eyes. How can she resist that face?

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Breakdown chuckled at the kick. He did like ruffling Sam so much, but still... "She's not moved yet." Said to ease Sam's worry. "And I've jammed the cameras and the only security guard is quite a ways down there from here." He points towards the far end of the airport.

But still, she was right that they should hurry things up. So he transforms. Not around Will, as he's done to Sam, but everything but his arm and hand that the boy is in. Once he's transformed he'll set Will in his cab before tucking his arm into the proper place within his alt.

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She can resist that face with a moderate effort, as it's made easier by the self-interest (and nascent paranoia) the occult underground fosters in those who have seen some moving and shaking. Still, she can't quite keep from smiling up at Will as he beams over the side of Breakdown's huge hand... even as she counters with "But she could wake up any minute, now." That said, there's little else she can do---save looking back to Breakdown, considering another kick.

Even if he laughs at the first, he spares himself a second by being good enough to offer some assurance. It's enough to prompt a pause, and then; "You can do that, with the cameras? What else would I like to know, that you've never mentioned?"

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Will's a little disoriented by the whole...shifting thing that happens, squeezing his eyes shut until he's settled into the seat, just so he doesn't get dizzy. He blinks one eye, then the other open, then waves at Sam to join him. "C'mon, you'll get cold!"

Then, to Breakdown, with mild interest: "Can you hack the Pentagon?"

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He chuckled. "Pentagon? Nah, that's out of my scope for basic stuff. Soundwave could though, if he wanted to." If he hasn't already for any reason.

To same his seat gave it's customary wobble as he "shrugged" in his alt. "Probably a lot of things." Now ask if he'll tell her.

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Though Will's concern was thoughtful, Sam let herself laugh at it. "Cold? I can see why you might be, but buddy, we're in California on a fair autumn evening, and you know where I'm from. If it's this side of freezing and dry, I'm okay." Still, she clambered up into the cab and onto its bench-style front seat, shoving her bag over the backrest. She hadn't packed anything too fragile to survive a short fall, or Breakdown breaking suddenly while cruising at 50 klicks.

"I don't think you've mentioned Soundwave before...? But nevermind the Pentagon, can you hack the National Student Loan Service Centre? And, 'a lot'?" She hadn't shut the door behind herself, and now had to regret it; that was the kind of question that could've, should've been punctuated by a full-body gesture, like propping herself up against the windowsill ~~even if that particular action would inevitably end in the door opening at just the right time to ensure she went tumbling out, ass over teakettle~~. "Like what?"

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The "shrug" makes Will squeak a little (an extremely embarrassing sound), but he's still grinning, at least? He scoots over when Sam comes into the cab, tucking himself against the one closed door in a heat-conserving huddle, hugging his knees to his chest.

"Student loans?" Sweet summer child, he has no idea. Then, with more interest: "What's a Soundwave?"

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"Not likely," he says in answer to Sam, "But Soundwave could."

What's a Soundwave? "Soundwave is a who, one of my commanding officers, and you don't want to meet him. He'd squish you like a bug without a second thought."

He gave another "shrug" to the rest of Sam's question. "Dunno. Stuff. Guess we'll both find out when I think of it." He's being such an ass tonight.

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“Government loans specifically for tuition, and, if you're lucky, a portion of your living expenses when you're a university student.” Sam untied the sweater around her waist, leaning forward and twisting a bit awkwardly to free it from behind her body; she pulled it loose and passed it to Will, who (huddled in his corner of the cab) looked like he could use it. She snapped her fingers at Breakdown's initial answer, and frowned at his second shrug, though 'Stuff.' earned the big brawler a slightly less serious Look.

It was then that Sam decided the next time Breakdown asked her about magic, her answer would be obviously bullshit.

“Anyone ever tell you you're a brat?”

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"Oh." College stuff. Will has about a million more years before he has to worry about that. He takes the sweater happily, wiggling into it and letting out a relieved sigh. Sam's by no means huge, but he's basically a stick bug, so it swallows him up.

There's a little bit of alarmed sweater-paw-waving at this comment from Breakdown. Not the squishing part (he's over that). "Wait, there are more of you guys!?"

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He can't help but chuckle at Sam. "It's not like I really think about everything I can do, I don't really think of them as anything special, they're just natural things I can do. It's not like your magic, when you learn new things, it's just a part of me."

The boy's blurted question got an outright laugh out of him. "Of course there are, Runt, you didn't think I was the only alien robot on this planet, did you? Never look at a car the same, will ya?" Now, he's a brat.

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It takes some doing, but Sam manages to tamp down the 'aw,' that almost escapes at the sight of Will swimming in her hoodie. He's a cute kid---and cuter still for that energetic, totally unaffected reaction. Committed, now, to being a brat right back at Breakdown, she leans over, as if conspiring, to tell the boy, “Nine that I know of, though he won't tell me the total number. Why that is, I don't know... but I guess there's no help for it now.” She'd punctuate this statement by blowing a very brief raspberry, again looking to the rearview mirror.

“How about you ask yourself 'what could I not do, if I were a little meat person?' and start from there?”

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"I...kinda did think you were the only alien robot on the planet," Will admits a little sheepishly. Like ET, honestly. Breakdown phone home, that kinda thing.

Then, looking very serious, to Sam: "Probably top-secret. Can't compromise their cover."

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