Chapter Text
“What about this,” Naomi prompted. He leaned into her space, so much so that he was gently pushing her out of sitting up straight so he could get a proper view of her screen, “Doesn’t pay as much, but it seems desperate enough to hire both of us, yeah?”
He hummed, eyeing the job listing. It was another storage facility, but this one was completely out door save for what would be their office. Hiring a night guard thanks to one too many break-ins happening on the premises. At least, that’s why most storage facilities hired night guards, since apparently there were far more that didn’t thanks to state of the art security technology.
Naomi shoved at him with her shoulder so she could pull up another tab, typing in the address. The place that came up on screen was dingy and outdated. He made a face, “Doesn’t look very… safe.”
“We’re trying to be night guards, Travis,” she drawled, "Nothing's safe. Besides, only the dingy places are gonna take you up for a patrol condition.”
He frowned, “I guess we can go get an interview,” he relented, “There’s this, too.” he leaned away, fully this time, to turn his computer in her direction. Her body weight met his, switching their positions, “Night time shift at a twenty-four-seven store.”
She nodded, “Send me the link, we’ll add it to the list. Where is that?”
“Uh…” he typed the address in, “Fifteen minutes away. Man, I really need to get a new car…”
“Good thing we’ll be working together,” she chirped. Her insurance had footed the bill, sympathizing with the whole hey, my car got blown up in a nuke. She had a brand new car within a week and a half. Travis’ insurance, on the other hand…
(“No, I can’t…” he trailed off, interrupted by the woman on the other end. Naomi glanced up from the onion she was cutting at his angry tone, “I can’t afford a new car! This is your guys’s whole thing, isn’t it? Footing the bill with peoples cars get all, like, fucked up?”
She could hear the pause, then the familiar I’m sorry, sir, that they’d both been forced to listen to from his phone for two weeks now. No matter how many times he called, insurance wasn’t willing to cover it.
They could cover some of it, a measly few thousand bucks that wouldn’t get him anything more than a rust bucket from facebook marketplace. His hands were shaking with frustration when he jerkily pulled the phone away to hang up, “Fuckin’ assholes,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair and taking a breath.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said, again and again. “We’ll get new jobs, share my car until we can save up to get you one. It’ll be fine, Travis.”
He took another deep, greedy breath. She turned off the stove, moving her simmering pot to an unlit burner, and turned to him. He’d covered his face with his hands, slumped against the counter, chest rising and falling in quick, shaky motions.
“Travis, look at me.” He peaked out between his fingers, “It’s okay, just breathe.”
His panic attacks had gotten so much more frequent since they got back, like they’d been stirred up from all that shit. The smallest inconvenience made him spiral about the future until he couldn’t breathe.
Naomi was always there, hands in his, guiding him through it. Just like he was there for her.)
He scoffed, “Good thing,” he repeated bitterly, “Is it even realistic or whatever? To find someplace that’s gonna take us both on the same shifts and all out crap?” He gestured defeatedly at the computer, “Maybe I should just take the bus.”
“Travis,” she bumped their shoulders together, drawing his lazy attention back to her, “We’ll make them take us both. It’ll be difficult, sure, but we’ve got this.”
An alarm went off in the kitchen, “Time to go get little Sarah?” He asked. She nodded, shutting her laptop.
“Hopefully she hasn’t gotten in another fight. Her teacher always looks at me, all judging,” she shivered, exaggeratedly.
He gave her a charming grin, gesturing widely, “Well, hey, you got me now. I’m plenty intimidating, right? I’ll scare her into looking at us, like, so normally.” he looked down, taking in his fluffy hello kitty pajamas bottoms he found at the thrift store and a plain white tank top.
She looked him up and down just the same, smiling, “Super intimidating. Come on, you wanna drive today?”
“Oh, please. You drive like an old lady. Like– like an old lady who’s been in six car accidents and refuses to even go the speed limit now.” he snatched the keys out of the air as they flew toward him.
She squawked, protesting, “I do not, I drive safely. Unlike someone.”
“I drive perfectly normally! So normally that I’ve never even been pulled over.”
“Yeah, because you’ve always run from the cops.”
“Tomato, tomahto.”