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"Like, in a car or on a donkey or something," he said, poking her ear again. It was fuzzy and he liked it, and was unable to keep his hands off of anyone within his general vicinity. 

"Hey, dude! Can I get a ride?"

"Huh?!"

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"That sucks, dude," he said, then he got an idea. 

"Oh! I can help!" Without permission or sensitivity, he scooped the man's legs out from under him and began to carry him with a huge smile on his face, imagining that he'd helped.

"Hey, dude! Can I get a ride?"

“I don’t happen to have a vehicle of transportation at the moment…  My ship was stolen. I’m afraid we’re both stuck walking.”

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Ty just shrugged. He was never really sure what he was talking about. There were times when he was almost close to possibly knowing, but this was very much not one of those times.

Dean raises an eyebrow at the guy. “What’re you talking about?”

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"Who's Sam, dude?" he asked, continuing to smile at him.

"Sam…what the hell are you doing?"

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"Hey, dude! Can I get a ride?"

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"Sure thing, dude!" he said, answering both the first and second part what she'd said simultaneously. The 'dude' was never purposeful. It just happened. 

He grabbed her hand and began walking forward. If she didn't have a ride, he just assumed that they would need to find one together. It didn't cross his mind that maybe she was perfectly happy right where she was, or that she didn't want to be holding hands with a stranger.

"Hey, dude! Can I get a ride?"

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"Do I look like I own a car?"

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Ty allowed himself to be pushed back. He was very pliable, if people took the time to physically move him. That didn't mean he'd stay were he was moved, but still. 

When she stuck the comb in his hair, he looked up as if he'd be able to see it. He began to fiddle around with it, causing it and his hair to become even more tangled than before.

His attention shifted out the window at her surprised comment. 

"What?" he said, smiling. He didn't see anything wrong with the scene. 

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"I'm Ty, dude!" he said, always excited to tell people his name. He wasn't sure why. He wasn't even sure if he was fond of his name or not. It was just his name, and he was happy to let other people know that it was his.

"Hey, dude! Can I get a ride?"

"…I suppose..Where are you headed?"

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"Whoa! You're strong for a little guy!" Ty said once his head stopped spinning (well, stopped spinning enough to let him speak). He paused for a moment, staring at Gabriel with that vacant smile of his.

"Can I get a ride, dude?" he said as everything that had just transpired was slipping away from his memory. 

"Hey, dude! Can I get a ride?"

Gabriel looked up as he climbed the hill back to his car. He had just finished his hike and was hauling his gear and camera equipment back to the car to continue down the highway. He was in the middle of nowhere, so he was really surprised to find anywhere out here. He stopped on the hill and stared at the man, trying to gauge how much he could trust this stranger.

"Um…" he looked around, "Who are you?"

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"Duuuuude!" Ty said, "People tell me that, like, all the time! Are you psychic or something?" Ty and words didn't really click in the right way. In fact, the only people who considered his speech pattern normal were the surfers in California. In some ways, he was one of them, in others (namely in the hand-eye coordination needed to surf) he was very much his own species. 

When Kieren helped to buckle him up, his hands brushed against Ty's. Upon feeling how frozen they were, Ty's eyes widened and he missed the last part of what Kieren was saying.

"You're so cold, dude!" he jumped in, looking up at Kieren with what could pass as a worried expression for him. Determined to help the person that he believed was freezing, he took his jacket off and threw it over him. And then his shirt. And then his other shirt. Layer by layer, he covered Kieren up until there was nothing left to take off, then he nodded and turned to look out the front window. His vacant smile had a hint of satisfaction in it, as Ty believed that he had helped. 

"Hey, dude! Can I get a ride?"

Finally, some sense of well deserved freedom. Hands musing over the wheel in quiet reflection of the encompassing quiet. Roarton was so loud, generally, condescendingly so, so to just escape even for the smallest while was something of a well deserved miracle. Letting everything pass in a blurred rush of speed and sound — bringing him out upon the open world, welcoming him with a steady hand. But, as his foot gently leaned out on the break, the realization of the boundaries were overstated. He’d promised he would actually come back this time around, let alone, he wasn’t even technically supposed to be behind a wheel without his “reclaimed citizenship” promised by the give back scheme. It was all just an odd bout of pity from his father that he was even allowed to go this far out of town for a quiet mile.

A slow sigh rolled off his tongue as unwilling hands turned him back around to the returning lane. Roarton had finally found a way to trap him and hell, it was obscenely degrading. Fingers fumbled with the coach radio as he turned the dial up to deafening noise. A perfect balance to spill over the silence that was once solace. Right on back to the enfolded arms, holding no welcome to reappearance. Now, he was nothing but a government funded asset. 

The Earth started moving once more past the windows as something caught the very corner of his eye. A sly thumb trailing across the sky as he pulled the coach to a sudden halt. The window rolled down as the greeting took him by unquestionable surprise. A hitchhiker. Well, there was no negative connotation there in the slightest. They were similar in more ways than just an idle loneliness. But, an outcast personality, trudging them out along the Earth, just begging for the basic needs of companionship. It was impossible not to harbor off a nod and unlock the door. 

What was the worst that could happen?

Once in awhile people just needed a little help, that’s all. 

"Where to?"

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I'm the kind of Mun who doesn't mind multiple threads with the same person.

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If looks could kill, Ty would still think that he was alive.

"That's cool, dude," he said, not taking it as a threat or an ultimatum, but more as her telling him where she was going to take him. In any case, if she did pull over and tell him to leave, it might take more convincing than a simple 'get out'. A lot more convincing.

       Oh, if looks could kill. The sudden weight of the bag in her lap nearly pulled a grunt from her lips and almost instantly, she had it in her hands and was tossing it into the backseat. If he wasn’t going to respect her, then she couldn’t have cared less if there was anything valuable or fragile rattling around in his luggage. “Let’s get one thing straight, dude. You piss me off, I pull over and you leave. I don’t care if we’re a hundred miles from the next gas station, I will leave you. Got it?”

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Finally, Ty understood what he’d said.

“That’s, like, so rude, dude,” he said, “You’re like those pushy people on the bus.” He still didn’t think to move from his spot.

"Hey, dude! Can I get a ride?"

"Eh- sure?" Cam unclipped his own helmet, handed it to the stranger. "Whereto? I mean, ef ye dun mind sittin’ on th’ back of a motorcycle? An’ I might not know where ye mean tae go? M’phone’s got gps, tho’?"

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“It’s totally feasible, dude!” he said, and climbed onto her handlebars. Some part of his mind remembered what the word “feasible” meant, but it had a foggy connection to the main part of his mind. He sort of got the gist, but was mostly just repeating what she said. 

"Hey, dude! Can I get a ride?"

"A ride? On my bicycle? I’m not entirely sure that’d be feasible."

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Ty nodded, smiling at her. He didn’t actually know where he was going, but he had a good feeling about that direction. Or… maybe it was that other direction. Or maybe he just like those bushes. They were cool looking.

     Meg wordlessly set aside the duffle bag, just enough so that it wasn’t entirely resting upon her lap. The look she directed at the man wasn’t lacking befuddlement,

          “Just in that direction? Nowhere more specific?”

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