AN: The song featured is "Feathery Wings" by Aurelio Voltaire. But I mention that in the chapter anyway.
When Doug got back to the apartment, he could hear Valentine singing again. He sat on the porch with the sliding door slightly open so he could listen to her.
"I'm so sick and tired of
The taste of tears,
The sting of pain,
The smell of fear,
The sounds of crying. Oh!
As you're standing at the edge of your life
What do you remember?
Was it all you wanted?"
She sounded mournful and on the verge of tears as she cleaned the kitchen. Doug felt tears prickling his eyes. At first, he felt embarrassed, but then he decided to embrace this. Maybe he needed this. He stared out at the yellowish grass as he allowed the tears to roll down his cheeks. He'd forgotten how nice it felt to have a good cry sometimes.
"You're gone from here.
Don't leave from here.
Don't leave me here.
I hate it here.
You're gone from here.
Don't leave me here.
I need you here.
I need to—
"Oh! Doug!"
Doug quickly wiped his tears away as Valentine slid the door open more to let Toby out. She looked embarrassed.
"How long have you been sitting out here?" she asked.
"N-Not too long," Doug said, looking down.
"Did you…Did you hear me singing?" she asked nervously.
Doug nodded.
"Oh, jeez," Valentine murmured.
"That sounded like a really sad song."
"It is. It's called 'Feathery Wings.' It was written and sung by Aurelio Voltaire."
Valentine sat in the chair next to him and stared out at the grassy field, too. Doug felt a little awkward. He was never any good at relating to females (or really anyone) so he didn't know how to make small talk.
"You know," Valentine said, "it's kind of funny. We have our freedom back. We can finally venture out to pursue our dreams again. We can rebuild society in the way that we feel fit. But…none of us know how to do any of that anymore. We aren't politicians or government leaders. It's sort of scary knowing that your future is completely in your own hands."
Doug smirked a little. "I've had to deal with that for the past decade," he said quietly. "But yeah, it is scary."
"I can't imagine how you could have possibly kept sane in Aperture," Valentine said.
Doug couldn't help himself. He exploded with laughter. He laughed until his cheek muscles hurt and his eyes teared up again.
"What? What's so funny?" Valentine asked. "Wasn't it hard to stay sane with no other humans to interact with?" She almost seemed angry. She must have thought that he was mocking her by laughing.
"I'm sorry," Doug said, wiping his eyes again. "It's just kind of funny. I…I didn't tell you this earlier, but I have…paranoid schizophrenia."
Now it was Valentine's turn to laugh—which confused Doug. Did she not believe him? Did she look down on him for it?
"Did I hear you correctly?" Spencer asked as he walked up to them from around the side of the apartments. He was carrying an empty box at his side. "You have schizophrenia, Doug?"
"Uh, yeah," Doug said, avoiding eye-contact.
"Man! That must have been rough!" Spencer walked over to his sister and nudged her to make her stop laughing.
"Where did you go, Spencer?" Doug asked, hoping to change the subject.
"I had to distribute rations to our neighbors," Spencer said. "They chipped in goods to trade for food."
"Oh."
"So did you have fun on your walk?" Spencer asked. "Anything interesting happen?"
"Actually," Doug said, "remember that woman I mentioned earlier? The test subject?"
"You ran into her?" Spencer asked incredulously. "No way."
Doug nodded. "She wants to have breakfast with me at a diner tomorrow morning."
"Oh! Uncle Phil's diner!" Spencer said, slapping his forehead with his palm. "He just re-opened recently. Ooh! Ooh! Valentine! We should go, too!"
"I don't think we should tag along on Doug's date," Valentine said.
"I-It's not a date!" Doug said quickly. "We're just catching up!"
"Then why are you blushing?" Spencer asked with a sly smile.
"Shut up, Spencer," his sister scolded.
"So are you going to get all dressed up for it?" Spencer asked.
"No," Doug said. "But I do need to get my hair trimmed."
"Well, we have a barber living two doors down," Spencer said. "Are you going to shave that beard?"
"Probably not."
"Ah. Going for that rugged look, eh?"
"I just don't care about the beard," Doug said, keeping his head down.
"Stop teasing him, Spencer," Valentine scolded again. "Take him to James so he can just get his hair trimmed."
"After lunch," Spencer said. "I'm gonna make us some PBJ sandwiches first."
