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Being a degenerate is okay these days
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Let them go.

That was the answer Raina had been expecting, more or less. You never knew when Johnny would get a wild hair and some kind of idea about what all he was obligated to do beyond the status quo maximum of "as little as possible", but he'd stuck to her expectations this time.

His bringing up Darren jarred her, though. She hadn't thought about her family until Johnny mentioned his. She didn't want to think about her family. Hell, they probably hadn't even noticed she was gone. Her parents were buried in their work, Cameron was knee-deep in final exams at Yale, and Leila was thirteen, enough said. Johnny's parents probably hadn't noticed either. She hadn't missed the way he'd forgone them for Darren. That was status quo too.

Johnny's whole spiel after that might have been the tiniest bit cliched, but it got the point across. He was putting his trust in her. The responsibility of getting them back to their families was on Raina's shoulders now.

Well. She'd think of something.

Raina lifted her chin and met Johnny's gaze steadily. "Alright." Hardly a grand declaration, but it did the job.

"No chasing, then. We might as well hole up here anyway, these rooms are probably as comfy as it gets. If anyone comes along and is friendly and helpful, they can hang. If not, they can buzz off." If they were violent... Raina wasn't sure what they would do. Johnny could posture all he wanted but, as far as either of them could tell so far they were unarmed, and a skinny trailer park rat and out-of-shape nerd were hardly intimidating without anything to back it up.

All the better reason to come up with a plan as soon as possible.

And all of that aside, she wanted to sit down and get this bulky bag off her shoulder. Her hair and clothes were still damp from the tub she'd woken up in. She had no relief from the clothes; she hadn't packed any extra for the day trip, and taking them off to let them dry was right out since the idea of changing in front of Johnny was almost more intolerable than the millions of anonymous eyes that would be watching her from behind the cameras. She could let her hair down and comb it out some, though. More than anything, Raina just wanted to collect her thoughts.

She made a sweeping gesture at the hallway around them. "Take your pick," she said, before remembering that they'd just agreed this wasn't a democracy. "Or I'll pick." She walked to the nearest door and pushed it open, revealing a modest bedroom like the others they'd seen. No broken furniture or blood here, though, so that was a start.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
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