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Trooper Station: Wednesday

Dale hasn't gone home at this point. He's still in the station trying to keep the troops on rotation and alert. The usual coffee and donuts are available for them and anyone else who decides to wander into the police station.

For someone who has gone without a day of sleep he still seems to be fairly energetic and alert.

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Faith felt like hell and didn't care if she looked like it, either.

Not sick. That'd be far too easy, wouldn't it?

She found Dale and remembered how jumpy this station made her a couple weeks ago. Real fuckin' funny, how life did that to you. Got better things to worry about, now.

"Didn't kill, fuck, or maim anybody this week," she said without any preamble. "Can I go now?"

"Good to see you to Miss Lehane," Dale said taking a sip of coffee. "Why the rush?"

Faith raised an eyebrow. "Hate to be the bearer of bad news here," she said acidly, "but this town has the black death goin' on."

"I'm well aware of that," Dale said genially. "If you wish to go, you may go. However you seem to have something on your mind. If you wish to talk about it then I'll be happy to do so. Otherwise..."

Dale nodded at the door.

"This Dr. Phil bullshit part of my parole?" she asked coldly. "Am I supposed to get touchy-feely here? Fine. There's something fucking people up. I can't go kill it. They got nerds lookin' shit up and healer types wandering around passing out blankets, and I get to sit around with my thumb up my ass hopin' Dawnie don't get any worse. Or any of the rest of them, and why the fuck do I care. It's the end of the world again, this time I'm completely fuckin' useless, the end. Thus ends this week's edition of Therapy Time with Faith."

"I wish I had an answer for you, Miss Lehane," Dale said sincerely. "But I don't. I honestly wish I had some ability to help those sick kids. To make them feel better. But I don't."

He went to take a sip of his coffee and made a face before placing it on the counter and shoving it away.

"I'm sorry. I'm afraid I can't offer you any more than that. Go look after your friend. You may feel that it doesn't do any good but I'm sure your friend would see it otherwise."

Faith leaned against the doorframe, taking a deep breath. Letting it out again.

"You guys need anything beat up? Smashed? I'm good at that. I'd actually be fucking useful, wouldn't that be a trip."

She shook her head. "Something wrong with your coffee?"

"Unfortunately violence or shooting anything won't solve the problem," Dale said with a frown. "And the coffee is fine. You're not the only one who is frustrated by the situation. It's taking its toll on everyone."

"Yeah. Guess it wouldn't." Faith took another breath. "You, uh, if you guys need extra muscle, I dunno. I, uh. You know where to find me. Parole and all."

She shivered, even though the room wasn't cold. "You need fresh coffee? Take a break, stop looking at all that shit for five minutes?"

Dale gave her a small smile. "No. I'll be fine, but thank you. I'll be relieved from duty later this evening and I should get some sack time."

"I open the bar tonight," she said, nodding. "I could close it, for plague, but maybe everybody else needs to get as smashed as I do. Something to do, feel useful, whatever. If you need a drink, help with the sleeping, you know where to find one."

"I may take you up on that offer," Dale said with a nod. "Thank you Miss... Faith."

"Any time," she said with a nod. "And if not, I'll see you next week."

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Trooper Station: Wednesday

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