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There were times, like when the haze lifted just long enough to allow a moment of clarity, that Sid knew he had a problem. When he drank he drank too much, and when he took painkillers he insisted on washing them down with something alcoholic. His only consolation was he'd never stepped beyond that magical gateway that led to harder drugs.

After his last binge, after waking up curled up between the toilet and tub, he'd made another of those very brief vows to go easier on himself. He even went so far as to see if he could avoid the pills for a little while. Therein lie his mistake. He wasn't making things any easier on himself after wandering around the village again. He'd picked up the lastest issue of TIME from the Entertainment room, and a perfectly harmless Diet Coke from the cafeteria. He fully intended to take them back to his duplex, but by the time he made it back he wasn't feeling up to the stairs. He'd only end up going straight for the medicine cabinet once he made it to the top, he knew.

That's why Sid was sitting on the steps, his legs stretched out and his cane propped beside him. The magazine was in his lap and the soda was, for the moment, neglected in favor of a cigarette. Caffeine and nicotine surely wouldn't count against his ******** hacks," he muttered to himself. He was looking through the book review section first, naturally.

Sid looked up and squinted into the light. He'd left his own sunglasses in his duplex, which really wasn't that many steps away, but that still felt like too much effort. The thought hit him, out of nowhere, that it was a damn shame he'd never owned a house with a porch. He'd never even lived anywhere that wasn't rented until now. Maybe that was an improvement.

He raised the same hand that held his cigarette to shield his eyes, once again putting himself at risk of singing his hair. There was a lot of it to burn away, and yet he couldn't be bothered to take care of it. "Oh, hey," he said. Then, in a surprising gesture of consideration, he snuffed the cig out on the stairs.

"Yeah, it's Sid," he added. He wasn't even going to try guessing Zach's name. He remembered from the announcement that he was one of the former exiles, but he couldn't remember who was who- or who was still out there, for that matter.

Sid leaned back just enough to allow himself to rest one elbow on the stairs. He enjoyed the weather immensely, but he felt that admitting that would be admitting he was uncomfortably close to the age where people retire to Florida.

"I'm dealing with it," he said. He made a gesture to emulate the flow of water. The magazine he laid aside as an afterthought. "s**t, it's been like a perptual acid trip from the start, so in the end I'm just relieved the walls aren't bleeding."

He grinned and grabbed the bottle of coke, left with little choice but to sip on it in the absence of a cigarette.

"Oh, I've seen it happen," he said, taking a drink. Suddenly he was painfully aware it wasn't going to do anything but help keep him awake for a little while. He didn't need any help with that. "That wolf-girl I told you about... But, well, it doesn't help to think too much on that sort of thing, does it?"

He did so well at not thinking about it, most of the time, at least until someone had to go and bring it up again. He stared at his feet, admiring the odd spattering of gray hair on his toes, and the worn leather of his sandals.

No use, he was thinking about it again.

Sid decided, for his own sake, that it was best not to speak of it again. He'd already told two people, probably more than he should have. He looked from his feet to see Zach playing with his hat. "They told me it's usually not like that, that it was a freak accident... Should've asked the doc about that instead of-" he cut himself off, shook his head. "Maybe later."

"Really..." Sid said. He tried to think of what that would mean for him, but as he still hadn't worked up the nerve to try and do research on his animal- or fate, but that sounded so damn melodramatic- he still had no idea.

The movement from Zach drew his attention. "You should get one of those cord things for those. Y'know, the kind you usually only see douchebags in Porches wearing. Might help."

He glanced past him, to the tree line that was beyond the buildings. His thoughts were running away with him yet again, making him wonder what kind of adjustments he had to make himself. Damn it. The only way to get around it was to talk about something else.

"You're probably right about the jungle, though," he said, sounding distracted. "That squid guy mentioned something about a tiger... but then he laughed... so, well, ******** I don't know what to think about that. Anyway, they probably caught that psycho wolf girl by now, dontcha think?"

"Must've been the one I saw in the doo-rag--" Sid hesitated, then finished lamely with, "that one time, back there. But, c'mon, it stands to reason they got her. Think about it, they had a freakin' convoy of armed guards show up on the scene. A bit late, sure, but there were a helluva of them. So why not? Probably got 'er skinned and out spread in front of a fireplace by now- or whatever they do with them. Jars are more likely, come to think of it."

What was he saying? Sid took another drink of soda, though it wasn't going to help to chase any of those images away. Strange that it would take more like gasoline compared to the wide assortment of alcoholic beveridges he'd had over the years... and had in the duplex up stairs right then.

Time to change the subject again.

"Congrats on being invited back to the undersized bosom of civilization, by the way."

If he had an inkling of Zach's lingering paranoia, he didn't show it.

Sid nodded slowly and glanced around, all the while trying to think of a nice, harmless conversation topic... something that wouldn't lead back to murder or the inevitable loss of humanity. He took a moment to admire a crack in the stairs, another to wonder if he was going to be able to get the mud off his jeans, and after coming up blank he finally looked to Zach.

"Yeah, well, good to have you back. I think I'm gonna head upstairs, maybe drink something's that actually worth drinking."

He glanced at his watch. Not quite five, but there was a certain Jimmy Buffet song that justified drinking anytime. He grabbed the railing along the stairs and hauled himself up, unable to keep from grunting as he did so. Once he was sure his back was still holding up well, Sid glanced down at the magazine and nearly empty soda bottle in dismay. He could always collect them after Zach left, when no one was around to see him carefully stooping to get them.

"See you around?" he said, his own polite way of saying 'okay, now go away'.