I decided to write a road trip AU fic, sort of inspired by the film The Go-Getter. Seventeen year old Nick stumbles across seventeen year old Jess hanging out on the side of the highway and they decide to set off on a road trip together. I'm not sure where I want this to go, but I hope it ends up somewhere I can be proud of.


Thirty miles an hour on an empty freeway.

He'd called it quits about two hours back. That irritating red pointer had been easing slowly towards the E on the fuel gage for a while now, dashing any hope of him getting to California by nightfall.

The exterior of the car alone should have given that impression before he'd even left Illinois. The amount of dents and scratches had made it look virtually undrivable, not to mention the various complications under the hood.

He's forced to acknowledge this every fifteen minutes, pulled over onto the hard shoulder with a thin layer of sweat coating his brow and a hissing engine.

"Piece of shit."

Where is he going? Short answer, far away. Long answer, really damn far away. Well, as far as one can go without driving into the Pacific Ocean. Basically anywhere that won't require a passport or an intelligible conversation to get him by. He hasn't set out to make friendships or ties with the world. This is his journey. And the only life force he's prepared to share it with is any form of gun dog or wolf pack he may stumble upon. He's done enough of what the world wants from him. He's catered to every ungrateful being and their needs for the better part of his life, and now he needs to start living for himself. And if that means getting away from it all and putting it into the past: high school, college, government conspiracies, then he is more than happy to do just that.


Into the late hours of the afternoon, he finds himself on a stony dirt road with scorched plants and no verdure to its name. There are fields stretching over what must be hundreds of acres of land. They aren't exactly vibrant, but in contrast with the hazy yellow-blue skies, they colour the atmosphere with a sense of warmth and tranquility. It's quiet, save for the hum of the engine and a few birds singing out into the stillness of the place on a tree branch somewhere in the distance.

He considers his surroundings, drinking in the serenity. He feels miles away from his responsibilities, allowing each burden to fly from his mind and into the balmy summer air. It's almost as though the universe is offering him a sort of consolation, and in return he has to make the absolute most of every minute he's given away from the barbarity of the real world. While he is conscious that he has left his biology book open on page thirty-nine, dealing with the lymphatic system and other various topics he struggles to comprehend, yet is not remotely bothered by it. It's a comforting emptiness where he's simply aware of things, but is not burdened by their accompanying difficulties.


This state of optimism is flipped upside down within seconds of returning back onto the highway. He manages to get stuck between two idiot drivers who insist on taking their sweet time despite being on a busy as hell road, during rush hour nonetheless.

It's gotten significantly cooler in temperature and the sky is tinged orange, painting a bright silvery-pink outline around the low-lying clouds in the distance.

Nick clenches his jaw and runs a hand over his face. All he wants is to be on an isolated back-road in the middle of nowhere, not having to care that if he suddenly chooses to accelerate he'll most likely rear-end some poor unsuspecting learner driver. The cooler in the back seat is almost fresh out of beer and as much as he really wants some beef jerky, there are no gas stations in sight. It's just wonderful.

He maintains a pessimistic demeanor for a while, passing quaint towns and villages that should make any person feel somewhat elated. He's still pretty freakin' pissed off with the world, and neither nobody nor nothing can change it. Not even the little elderly vendor selling fruits on the side of the road is enough to eradicate his poignancy.


Seldom is life seen in action when one has spent the better part of two days on the road, seeing nothing beyond those white lines in the tarmac, vanishing almost as quickly as they appear. Anyone he does notice is stuck behind the wheel of a car, proving to be about as significant as a spec of dust in the air. For all he knows, there has been a terrible zombie apocalypse back home which could have potentially wiped out all of civilisation. So of course, when Nick catches sight of some poor wandering stranger, very obviously a hitchhiker, lingering dangerously close to the boundary of the main road, he's slightly relieved.

He's also dumbfounded because there's no way in hell that she's some sort of penniless college drop-out who has endeavoured to see the world before global warming destroys it. She looks quite young, maybe five-foot-five and as though she's been out in the sun for far too long. The poor kid is sitting cross-legged on the ground with her head hanging to one side and her arm stretched out limply in front of her, signalling out for a ride. Her dark tresses are tied messily into two loose pigtails and beneath a patch of dishevelled stray hairs, he can make out a white hair bow. She's dressed in a pair of washed out denim knee-length shorts, a faded pink floral halter-neck and well worn out black Converse. She can't be much older than seventeen.

He can't help but feel oddly sympathetic, which is a total breach of his 'anti-sharing journey' philosophy. Nonetheless, he slows down as he approaches her, curious to see what she has to say for herself. He stops and cranes his neck out the window, catching her attention.

"Hey."

She squints against the strong sunlight to look up at him. "Hey."

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Uh..." She looks around and shrugs. "I'm sitting."

He scoffs. "No kiddin' ... You wanna tell me why you're sitting on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere?"

"Are you a cop?"

"That's debatable." He jokes. "Seriously, what are you doing"

"I told you, I'm sitting."

"You're just sitting?"

She nods.

He purses his lips. "Okay, well if that's all you're doing I think I'll leave you to it."

She nods gives him a half smile. "You do that."

"I'm gonna do that."

He salutes her off and restarts the car, pulling back into the main road and attempts to put her to the back of his mind. She was probably like him, not wanting to bear an obligation to anyone and to just let loose on her own. Perhaps she just hadn't thought it out as well as he had. After all, who does things like this without adequate transportation?

Or maybe that was the fun of it. Maybe that had been her definition of escapism. Not having those luxuries to distract her. And as much as he hates to admit it, he admires this theory.

He is struck by a pang of guilt and silently thanks the universe for granting him with a now trafficless road, because if not for that, he'd probably be reversing into the back of a giant cargo truck. Drawing in a deep breath, he eases his way back to her.

Slightly taken aback, she stands, shading her eyes from the light.

"You again." She affirms.

"You want a ride?"

She hesitates. "How do I know you're not a psycho serial killer?"

"Well now you've taken all the fun out of it."

"Why are you offering me a ride?"

"Hey, it's not like you've been getting a lot of people as generous as me all day, I wouldn't advise you to start questioning it now."

She folds her arms and looks him up and down. He doesn't look awfully threatening. He's dressed like a lumberjack for goodness sake. His face doesn't look like it's seen a razor in the last five days and his car doesn't suggest affluence.

"What happened to your car?"

"Where is your car?"

"Touché."

"So do you want a ride or not?"

"That depends. Are you goin' anywhere specific?"

He shakes his head. It's not like he'd be lying if he said yes, because when he gets to wherever it is he wants to be, then technically that would be somewhere specific.

"I'm not sure. Why, you lookin' for somewhere specific?"

"I'm not sure."

"Well we're just a coupl'a wanderers aren't we? Come on doll face, I ain't got all day."

"Don't call me doll face. I can wait."

Nick groans and drums his fingers on the steering wheel. He can't blame her for being cautious. After all, a guy in a sleazy looking car pulling up beside an unaccompanied young girl has never ended well if past news articles are any indication. On the other hand, it's not as though he isn't still I.D'd every time he tries to get into bars.

"Okay, let's just cut to the chase. I'm Nick, I'm seventeen and I've abandoned my entire life back in Chicago to go on some pointless road trip to wherever the hell this piece of crap takes me. If you don't believe me then that's your choice, but no one's gonna stop for you. No one ever stops for anyone in this fucked up world anymore."

She nods in consideration and takes a moment before responding. "That was deep."

She extends her arm out to shake his hand and offers him a smile of sincerity. "I'm Jessica... Jess. Nice to meet you Nick."

"Nice to meet you too." He responds with strong handshake. He looks her dead in the eye, an unusual feeling stirring up inside of him. He has forgotten his intentions to ignore the world, no matter what, because there's something about this girl that challenges them, and he's curious to see how.

"Hop in, Jess."