Normally, when waking up to find that @#%$ has officially hit the fan, it's either from a night of serious drinking (and you get to piece together later all of the classy, mature things you did the night before), you laugh it off, shrug, and blame the bottle. Because whatever happens when you've reached the point of blacking out, effectively becoming a louder, more emotional embodiment of yourself, it's not your fault any longer. Or, at least that's what most hardcore drinkers swore by. Or, if this is not in fact what happened, it's because someone else has screwed up somewhere, and that someone needs a boot firmly planted up the backside, pronto.

Upon waking, those were the first two scenarios that jumped to mind.

Well, considering that she hadn't gotten soused the night before, because she was pretty sure she'd remember virtually pickling herself in the booze it took nowadays to get to the point of time traveling, that only left the second option. Someone else had @%!&#$ up somehow, somewhere, and she'd gotten dragged in with them. It had all been some kind of... dream... maybe. Vivid hallucination? Alternate reali-- naw, that was plum crazy. Maybe just a big conjoined mental orgy for a butt-load of people, that been forced to join without knowing.

Buildings had fallen, battles had been waged... and at some point she'd started @*^#$&@% caring about things. Seriously, what kind of backwards crap was that?

She could remember all of it, too.... Faces and names.... Things people had told her, and goddammit, things she'd shared with them too. Not to mention a certain someone inexplicably throwing his life away for hers, while others she knew up n' died on her before she'd even had the chance to say goodbye. All of it was nice, fresh, and festering in her brain, taunting her with the knowledge that she'd pulled a complete one-eighty on herself.

It was the biggest headache of her life, and she felt robbed that she'd not even been able to drink herself into a stupor before it happened. But, C'est la vie, now was the time to stew on things and rectify what had been done to her.

...Mainly by fixing her current state of sober, and then punching as many faces as she could find until she felt better. Speaking of drinks...

"Dude... who's arm do I have to twist to get a refill over here?" Who cares if she was in a popular bar on one of the busiest night of the week, and so what if everyone else had a right to get served right along with her. She didn't care one bit. Her cup was broken, and someone needed to fix it before she lodged it in a wall.

It had been a long day. A very. Very long day.

He'd woken up with the lovely memory of putting a hole in the head of the person he loved lost in this world before committing suicide via her deadly hand.

Needless to say, he needed a f#%^ing drink. It didn't make it any better that he'd had to work all day patrolling the mansion, quite dry, and then he's spent some time with Andy, which made him feel even worse...

Now, though, she was asleep, and he was walking into a bar. He ignored the fact that this was a regular occurrence lately; he could stop when ever he wanted. He just didn't want to.

As he walked to the bar, in his own little world, and took a seat in the only open stool at the place where you could get liquor the fastest, he didn't even notice who he was sitting next to. "Double shot of McKenna. Double of Glen... And a bud." One bourbon, one scotch, one beer. It was an old tradition of his based off of a song... Cheesy, yeah, but it did the job.

As he waited for his drink, he took a quick look around, and froze as he noticed who exactly he was sitting next to. "Aww... @#%^..." Wait, she didn't exactly know his face... Maybe he could just get his drinks, down them, and get out of here before she started to catch on to who he was. After all... She was the last person he wanted to see right now.

Still... It was strange to actually see her...

"Listen, lady... are you the queen of England? No? Well, then wait in line."

"If I was the queen of England, I wouldn't be caught dead in an over rated joint like this. I bet you %#$@ in the brew."

The bald, roughly around the edges bartender rolled his eyes at her as he turned to fix someone else a drink. That someone being a new fella, who'd barely even just sat down in the seat beside her. Fer serious? Anger settled in her eyes and on her lips, and Megan tapped her fingernails on her empty glass. She was itching for... for something. A brawl... a screaming match... she didn't really care, so long as it got her mind off of things for a while.

"So much for that line..." She muttered, before ordering a few wolf spiders into action. From within the darkness of her sweatshirt sleeve, four spiders skittered out. They sat on the counter momentarily, before scurrying over the edge and vanishing onto the other side of the bar.

Baldy didn't want to server her anymore? Fine... she'd see how he liked doing a funny little dance for all of his customers when her children marched up one of his pant-legs. But first... one last chance.

"Refill... please" Practically grinding her teeth together while growling out such a pleasantry, the twenty five year old glanced over at the guy who'd taken the seat beside her. Nothing special... no one she recognized. Just some regular... wait...

He'd said something. And his voice... it had sounded familiar. She attempted to shake the feeling as she removed her eyes from him again, even while she situated herself in a manner that made it easier to pretend he didn't exist. She was probably just letting her mood get to her, and it was probably having a great time mucking everything up.

"Wait, wait... what was that you said? Was that a... a please?" Her attention was effectively captured once again by baldy, who she was steadily growing to dislike as the night went on. The man turned to her fully, tossing a dirty dish cloth over his shoulder as she leaned down to grab a bottle from under the counter. "Was that really so hard, lady? Being nice won't kill you, ya know."

"You're preaching to the choir, sister." She snatched her cup back before he'd even finished filling it, and turned around in her seat to lean against the bar.

Plenty of people died for being too nice.

Great... Not only was she at this bar, and sitting right next to him, but she was looking to cause trouble. From the look of the spiders he watched leaving her for the other side of the bar, she was going to get what she was looking for. That was... If he didn't stop her.

How would he do that, though? She was already looking at him like he had something funny on his face; he downed one of his doubles, and turned away a little, trying to look natural doing it, and failing a little. He thought about his options... Jump over the bar and stomp out the spiders? Nope. He wouldn't be able to get another drink after causing a scene like that. Maybe he could punch her in the face... The bartender might even clap. Nope, that was a horrible idea. After a moment, he let out a long sigh... Plan C, then.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the bartender spoke up first, serving her her drink. He chose to take a swig of his beer instead. If he knew her well enough, she would be placated for a little while. Saph hoped that was long enough for him to drink, pay, and leave. Already, thoughts of feeling her lifeless body with his sixth sense were plaguing him... And that kiss... Clearly, though, she wasn't the same person right now that she was back then.

Times like those tended to change people. Usually for the worst... In that case, though, it had been much of an improvement... It was odd to experience the best of someone, and then see them with so much missing afterward.

His attention was caught by one of the regulars in the bar, who took up a seat that had just opened next to him. "Heyyyy buddy... Seen you round here a lot. I'm Clark... Nic't meet you!" Saph looked around for a second, and nodded... Great, he was talkative. "Rus... I'm a little busy."

"Awww, no one's too busy for a good conversation, huh? Whose the lady over there? Your friend?" Saph froze for a moment, and shook his head. "Don't know her."

"Nah? Think we could switch seats, then? Gotta take a swing, you know? Haven't struck out with this one, yet!" The drunkard chuckled, Saph sat there for a moment, not sure what to think... Part of him was angry... The other part was wondering what he was angry for. "Eh.... my drinks are here, buddy... Also... I think she can hear you just fine from there." He was being pretty loud, after all... A few drinks could do that to you. Saph took another drink himself... It was starting to look like this night just wasn't going to go his way.

"Nah? Think we could switch seats, then? Gotta take a swing, you know? Haven't struck out with this one, yet!"

Loud drunk was annoying. She considered calling the spiders back she had lurking under the counter, just so she could send them after him instead. It turned out to be unneeded, though. Megan listened, glancing over briefly at the guy who pointed out the fact that she could hear everything being said, and smirked lazily.

"Yeaaah, you have a better chance at staking a swing at a bar-stool, at this point." She commented, more than confident that he could hear her just as well as she could him. Casting a sidelong glance at the guy over his much quieter "buddy" she sighed, and the finished her drink in one mournful gulp. Beating up a bunch of drunk louts in a bar just didn't seem as satisfying as winning a fight against someone more.. worthy.

...Worthy... A shudder passed through her as memories of fights in Roaches pit she'd been forced to watch resurfaced. Grumbling lowly to herself, she swung back around and pushed her empty cup forward to be refilled once more. "Refill, please."

Surprisingly, the bartender heard her and actually chose to pay attention. "Jesus, have you really been drinking these? You've gone through nearly a whole bottle already." Concern briefly touched the man's eyes, as he struggled with the idea of refilling her cup. "You sure you need another? I'm sure you've had enough by now..." She didn't act like she was drunk, not in any way he'd been able to see... maybe she was just really good at covering it up or something, though. He didn't want to get in any trouble for someone drinking herself right into a hospital bed. "I think i'm gonna have to cut you off."

"Do I look drunk to you?" She leveled a dead-pan stare on him, frowning grumpily. It didn't appear to sway him, as he picked up her glass with a shake of his head, and wandered off. "I'll get'ya a glass of water instead."

With a groan, she let her head drop to the counter and folded her arms around it. Great... cut off, and slowly getting more tired and stressed by the minute as unwanted thoughts kept creeping back to her. Seconds after she'd given up, a yelp was heard as an unlucky waiter reached under the counter and sent her children scrambling. "Eeek! Freaking huge ugly spiders! Someone kill them! Eeek!"

"...They aren't ugly... dammnit..." Huffing, she ordered the arachnids to flee before someone took a shoe to them... but not before they managed to lay a few silk lines on a small bottle of booze and drag it with them. In the lady's panic to get away, she set the prefect cover for the four spiders to drag the little bottle off under the bar with them.

It was beginning to look like he wasn't going to make it through this without some sort of conflict arising... A hand slowly cupped his forehead, and then dragged down his face, before he downed his other double shot, and shook the burning off.

Fortunately, the bar fly was harmless. He shrugged, ordered a drink, and went to go hit on a waitress; at least they would show off some cleavage for a better tip.

The bartender had cut her off, and she wasn't very happy about it... Truth be told, he didn't even know why she was here... He spent over a year with her, and knew that alcohol had almost no effect. Unless she drank quite a bit, maybe... It had something to do with her mutation. He wasn't quite so unlucky; when you were living at the end of the world, drinking suddenly became the favorite pass time of most people. He was no different.

Still, the bartender couldn't have known she wasn't drunk off her rear... Hell, any normal person would have fallen off their stool and sung their own lullaby by now. A waitress freaked out... The spiders had been discovered. He took a long sip of his beer, and calmly set it down, not bothering to react to the situation. Still, behind the bar a clink, and the feeling of something dropping to the ground piqued his interest... What was it?

For a moment he missed having a sixth sense on steroids... He would have been able to tell exactly what fell.. His best guess, though, was a bottle. A bottle with no one to make it fall.

"You sure you want to do that?" He ventured to guess that she might be trying to score some alcohol the less than legal way. He couldn't have that.

"You sure you want to do that?"

Ignoring the comment at first, as it really could have been angled at anyone, she lifted her head when a glass of water was set in front of her. Knowing he wasn't going to get a thankyou from her in any sense, the bartender just continued on with keeping other customers happy. After glaring at the cup as if it was to blame, she relented and turned a little so she could glance at the man sitting beside her.

"...You look better with the mask on." Came her grumbled reply. She had figured it was him after the second time he'd spoke up. Her hunch was backed up when he cautioned her not to do something that he rightly shouldn't have known about. It really figured that either she'd stumbled into a place he visited often, or he'd stumbled upon her, all while she was trying terribly hard to forget that the whole dream mess had ever happened.

She gave very brief thought to standing up and leaving, ditching her spiders and the bottle they were currently trying to drag somewhere dark for her to retrieve later... but dropped the notion quickly. There were too many questions she felt inclined to ask, even though her better judgement told her that she probably didn't want to know the answers.

"... How did it end?" She questioned softly, keeping her voice down. She hadn't been able to see how the fight against the green woman, labeled Medusa by Roach, had ended. Considering how it seemed to have affected him both times he'd seen her, Megan felt justified in her worry.

Well, not like it mattered... seeing as it had been a dream anyway. But.. still. Hoisting herself up onto her elbows, she called her kids back, making sure to instruct that they drop the bottle they were snatching. She didn't need Mr. Justice over there getting on her case for getting herself a drink.

"...You look better with the mask on." Yeah... she knew it was him; how couldn't she? He took a swig of his beer, and absentmindedly spun the now empty bottle on the bar, his finger in the mouth, his thumb slowly rotating it back and forth.

"You look like hell, too." He stated flatly, not really reacting outwardly to her knowledge of his identity. He motioned toward the bartender, who already knew to get him another round. He was already feeling a little warm, but he'd been drinking enough lately not to show it. He'd started taking up drinking again when Andy had been gone... When she came back, he'd cut down a lot, but after the dream... Well... He had some things he wanted to forget. Old Al was good at making you forget.

"...How did it end?"

He felt a slow ache in his chest... A phantom pain from a wound that never existed. "Badly." He didn't say anything further... She had to have known that after she'd broken her promise, there was no reason he could keep his own...

The bartender placed his drinks before him, and went about his business, pausing only to look around, confused as to how a bottle of Jack had found its way nearly out of the bar. He found a waitress to chew out about it, and things went on without further fuss.

"I didn't live much longer than you. We failed."

Why did it hurt to say it? It hadn't even been real. It felt real, though; more real than any dream had ever come close to feeling. He downed a double shot, and washed it down with some beer... He was drinking a little faster than usual... Maybe he could cut back... Maybe.

"Badly."

Ah... balls. She'd been expecting an answer like that. One against an entire arena... it was insane to believe that he'd have made it out on his own after... after how badly she'd screwed things up. Why did she feel like apologizing? They'd been up against impossible odds, and she'd been given an impossible task. That Megan in the dream had held out hope, for some reason the real Megan couldn't fathom. To her, it had been doomed to fail from the start.

"I didn't live much longer than you. We failed."

She'd fallen quiet up until then. When he spoke, she averted her eyes, across the bar into a dark corner. She hated feeling like she was in the wrong... and in this situation she couldn't hide from the fact that she very much was. The entire plan had hinged on her, but... she just hadn't been able to go through with it. Roache's words came floating back, and she clenched her hands into fists.

She was angry all over again. They never should have tried to take him down. She never should have been asked to attempt such a thing, given her history with him! The Judge should have damn well known it was going to fail... and.. and... "I'm sorry..." She knew that she'd been just as ready as him to jump on the job. She'd embraced it, known it needed to be done, and... she'd believed in him. All of the time they'd spent together, all of the bad people they'd taken down, it had taught her to believe in him without question, because he could get the job done no matter what.

"...I..." Jesus... why was it so hard to talk about? Maybe because you're determined to pretend like it never happened. "...#$@&." What was she supposed to say? 'Sorry, I flaked out and probably got you killed. Lol, funny, right?!' She lapsed back into silence, trying to get her thoughts back on the straight and narrow.

"Your girl... does she remember everything too?" She'd heard a few people claim not to remember anything. Whether it was true or not, she didn't know... but she was envious of that select few anyway.

He looked up while she apologized, and then back to his drink... Maybe he wouldn't take it easy... Not tonight. He grabbed his other double shot, and threw it over one lip, gulping down the caustic liquid as if it were the elixir of eternal life. He then stared at the glass for a moment, and set it down.

"She doesn't remember anything... She has nightmares, but... Thank god. I dunno what I'd do if she had to live with that." He frowned at the thought, and drank some more of his beer. He wondered if he was going to get another round, tonight... Usually he stopped at two... Four double shots and two beers was enough for most people, most of the time. Hell, it was a bit much for most people, most of the time.

"I suppose I should apologize, too... I gave you hope in a world where it didn't belong..." Yes, she'd failed to kill Roach, but what had that changed in the end? Here they were, he was... well, he didn't even know if the giant cockroach really existed... Though now that he thought about it, there was something in Andrea's diary about a giant cockroach... He frowned, and gulped down the rest of his beer, letting the bottle fall over on the counter. The bartender have him a strange look as he grabbed the bottle, and the two glasses, and get them out of the way. Even he could tell Saph was drinking faster than usual.

The green one didn't remember... That was good, she supposed. It was taking a hell of a toll on her, and others as well, who could remember every sordid detail. Though, Megan still had concerns for the people who'd taken to a devious lifestyle, even if they couldn't remember anything. Like Johnny. He'd been a particularly horrible speck of waste... but what was he like currently? Surely, someone like that didn't just become a monster over night. It had to be built in... learned behavior or something, for it to have manifested in such a manner.

"Bull$@#&." She replied back to his apology. "You were right, and you still are. It's not your fault that I ended up getting weak knees in the end." She could still feel Roaches hands inside her chest when she'd first woken up. It had been terrible, and if she thought too much about it, the feeling started to come back. "...Someone had to do something, dream or no dream... and until you came along no one was doing anything."

The fact that it had ended up being her who helped him in his mission... now, that was what didn't belong. "Hope was needed, you know that. All of those people you saved walked away with hope that they weren't just waiting around to get killed." Okay, tone it down Megan.. you're growling at him. Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned and slouched back against the bar in an irritated manner.

"Listen...whatever that.. thing.. was, it won't happen. Not on my life, and not on yours." She meant it, too. The expression on her face was determined, set with a frown and a glare that she'd angled on some guy wobbling his way toward the bathrooms. She wasn't about to let Roach become the jerk he'd been in that dream, not while she was still breathing. When she found him... well, she didn't know what she was going to do... but it would probably involve a lot of yelling.

He blinked a few times as she called bull on him. He listened to her with less than sober eyes weary, yet not defeated...

After a few moments, he couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Yeah... I guess you're right. We had a good run, huh? Saved a lotta @%^&in' lives..." He chuckled a little more, and leaned back against the bar. They had done some pretty amazing things... They'd saved more lives than he could even care to count, and put so many bad people in an early grave that death had probably clocked some overtime hours.

"Listen...whatever that.. thing.. was, it won't happen. Not on my life, and not on yours." It was a sobering thing to hear from her; it prompted him to turn toward the bartender, and motion for another round... The man paused for a moment, and then nodded solemnly. He'd come here enough for the guy behind the counter to know that he usually didn't go for round three.

"Yeah... We'll have to make sure of that... I'm really not the type for sappy stuff, and our track record ain't exactly spotless... So let's agree not to make a promise. Promises can be broken." His drinks arrived. He downed the two shots, and gulped down the beer like it was going out of style.

"Whaddya say we follow the green man a little, find a place where you aren't cut off?" He quickly paid his tab in cash, leaving a decent tip. "We can renimi-reminisce... about the good ol' days..." Yes, he was drunk. Was he too drunk to walk? Nope. He was certainly lucky he'd bussed it out here, though; He was in no condition to drive.

"Yeah... We'll have to make sure of that... I'm really not the type for sappy stuff, and our track record ain't exactly spotless... So let's agree not to make a promise. Promises can be broken."

Eyeing him carefully, she couldn't help but smirk back at him. No promises? She could agree to that. Anything that tying was usually best avoided in her practice. "Agreed."

"Whaddya say we follow the green man a little, find a place where you aren't cut off? We can renimi-reminisce... about the good ol' days..."

One dark eyebrow shifted, rising ungracefully into the nest of messy hair that made up her bangs. Bar hopping with the guy who gallivanted around the city, taking out bad guys right and left, who she'd spent an ungodly amount of time with in that vile dream? Taking her eyes off of him for a moment, to scan the crowd or.. whatever, she thought back to what, or who, she'd been searching for since she woke up. Roach. Was she ready to face him yet? After... after everything she'd seen, everything she'd done; was she truly ready to tackle that wound?

...naw, prolly not.

"Yeah, sure... I haven't been hoppin' in ages." Not since before the whole Trent fiasco. Unknowingly, she fiddled with the silver ring on her finger, before glancing back at him. Then, with a sigh, she dug out her wallet from her pants and tossed a few bills on the counter to pay for her own drinks, before sliding from her seat.

"God help you, though, if you try and drag me into anything even vaguely reminiscent of Karaoke." The smirk was back, tripled in size. Tucking her hands into her pockets, she lead the way out.

Later that night.

The night was merry indeed; this was bar number... five? He'd had a lot less to drink than his compatriot, but he wasn't even closed to ashamed to admit it; fish would be jealous of how well she could drink. He wasn't... Saved him a whole helluvalot of money.

"HAH HAH! And then he was all like... 'You think you can beat me? I'm the biggest bad @$% the world's ever seen!' An' you behind him with the fire hydrant! LIKE A SACK OF BRICKS!" He guffawed more, taking a drink of... what ever he was holding. He thought he remembered going to a liquor store a while back, though she'd had most of that.

"Oh man... An Clive... You think they ever found all of Clive... Heh... You know... I actually kinda missed him. He was like our white whale. Cept, well, you know... We blew him up, so... Different ending." He chuckled, and took another drink. "Hey, I think we're next in line for singing." He pointed at the rather large woman singing 'don't you wish your girlfriend was hot like me.'

What were they singing again? She'd selected the song... apparently enough drinks made her a lot more willing to belt out journey or whatever. It had taken a lot, though.

Did he mention she could drink a lot? She really could.

"HAH HAH! And then he was all like... 'You think you can beat me? I'm the biggest bad @$% the world's ever seen!' An' you behind him with the fire hydrant! LIKE A SACK OF BRICKS!"

Her bark of laughter joined his a moment later, after she was done wiping beer from her chin. "Ah, man! I wish i'd hadda camera! Those pictures would'a been priceless." Grinning stupidly at him as she attempted to finish off her glass before he got her laughing again, and it decided to shoot out her nose or something. With a content 'Ahhh!' her empty glass was slammed back onto the counter, and she swiveled in her swivel-y chair.

"Oh man... An Clive... You think they ever found all of Clive... Heh... You know... I actually kinda missed him. He was like our white whale. Cept, well, you know... We blew him up, so... Different ending."

"I bet pieces of him flew all the way to that one chick's bunker. Prolly landed right on her doorstep!" Megan barely contained her giggles as she imagined bits and pieces of Clive raining down all on the people she'd met during that three year stint in hell.

"Hey, I think we're next in line for singing."

She swiveled in the direction of the stage, currently overcrowded by the heavy set woman in the too-tight-oh-god-my-eyes outfit, and grinned. As soon as that lady was done braying like a donkey, she was going to stumble moesy on over there and kick the energy in this place up a few notches!

"Man.. this feels good. I haven't been out like this in a year or two." In fact, the last time she'd been out singing at a karaoke joint, she'd been snatched by an over excited monkey-giant and the man sitting beside her had ended up being her rescuer. For some reason, that little bit of knowledge made it all the more fun. Who got to clink beers with a real hero, nowadays? Megan! That's who.

As the song ended on a warbly, strained note, Megan hopped from her seat. There was an energy under her heels, propelling her forward with purpose toward the stage. She tossed her coat away from her as she moved; it settled lazily on her abandoned stool.

As she took the stage with her companion, grabbed her mic and waited for the lyrics to flash onscreen, she couldn't help but feel... content...happy even, with how the night had turned out.

And she hadn't even had to punch anyone yet!

The music kicked on, she closed her eyes and... "Just a small town girl, livin' in a looonely world... she took the midnight train doing aaaanywhere~"