Fabian had adventured off to explore the other rooms. In taking off the plastic trash bags, he had gotten distracted by a guitar sitting in the corner of the room. He couldn't sing but he could play.

Well, he used to play in the subway station for cash whenever he was 15. He hadn't touched a guitar since but that little bit of cash got him into the military and where he was now. He was financially stable, even if his environment wasn't.

He grabbed the guitar, brushing his fingers along the base. It was an acoustic guitar, signed by Elvis Presley. The thing was probably worth quite a bit of money. He couldn't dare think about taking it though. It seemed special.

Instead, he sat on the bed and began strumming a few notes, fumbling around until he found the right chords. He began strumming the tune of Into the Night by Santana. The song oddly enough featured the lead singer of Nickelback but it was the only song he had known to play. His young self used to be obsessed with it because of the catchy tunes.

Fabian was focused on playing and the memories it brought with it. He remembered playing on the subway, the couples that would dance along, the laughs...It was the first time he had felt like he was important, like he caused joy among others. Like he wasn't a burden.

"You're not too bad at that."

He jumped, the next note coming into a serious of squeaks as his hand scraped against a few notes. He hissed in pain, setting the guitar down and holding the palm of his hand. He turned toward Samara, his face looking rather spooked and emotional at the same time. For once, he wasn't masking his facial expression to her. Well, that was until she sat on the bed and his face went back to it's somewhat unreadable self.

"You need to stop doing that," He took his jacket from her, moving to put it on. He couldn't help but blush as he thought over her words and realized that she had been listening to him. He slipped his jacket on, welcoming the warmth it brought to his body. He didn't realize how cold he had been.

His hand wasn't hurt too bad. The strings just cut off a little bit of his first layer of skin. His hands were rough from routines and military training anyway. It just stung more than anything. Guitar strings were known for causing finger tips to bleed and not palms of hands after all.

His jacket was still warm from being on Samara. He had honestly forgotten all about her having his jacket. He did enjoy having it back now, it was warm and felt like the best thing he had in a while. He hadn't looked for different clothes for him, he didn't want to wear some poor old grandpa's clothes. He was happy in uniform.

"My hand is find, don't worry," He told Samara, showing his hand to her. There was a small cut but it wasn't bleeding. It just exposed his next layer of skin,"Tough hands."

He moved the guitar back to where he found it, making sure to leave everything the way it was before they came. Well to the best of his ability. He made a way toward the door and paused, reaching out to offer his hand to Samara.

"Ready to go?" He questioned, studying her.

Fabian was going to give her a pat down, he was just waiting until it was time to go. He personally thought pat downs were invasive but he knew the necessity of them. He wanted to trust Samara but also on the other hand she was an enemy soldier.

He lead her into the room with the window and heard her ask about being pat down. He gave a nod in response, he hadn't forgotten about it not in a long shot.

He let go of her hand and turned to face her, his gaze travelling down her body for a moment. The overalls were pretty snug, they seemed to cling tightly to her frame making it impossible for her to hide anything. Sighing, he gestured for her to spread her legs,"Yeah, I'm afraid so."

Once she complied, he began patting her don, starting at her shoulders and working his way down. He kept his pats light and when he patted down her chest and other regions, he worked a little faster, not letting his hands linger for even a second. He didn't like disrespectful touches or acts, even if they were necessary.

He made it quick and simple. He had seen his friends pause over the more intimate regions before and didn't want to mirror that. Although, he loved his friends he did not love the way behaved around women.

Once it was over, he gave a nod and turned away to hide the light blush on his face. He heard her comment about getting out of here and agreed. He pulled out his gun from the back of his waistband, he had put it there after giving Samara his jacket. It was just a small handgun, he didn't have as much weapons as she did. He was much better at hand-to-hand combat.

He stood up on the chair and turned to Samara,"Might want to look away. We don't want glass shards cutting your face." He made sure the safety was on his gun before turning it the other way, ramming the handle into the window fast and hard. The glass shattered in a million pieces. The sound of glass hit the floor and then the chill of wind filled the air.

He tucked his gun away and turned back to Samara to make sure she was okay. He had avoided most of the glass except for a small cut on the bridge of his nose,"I'll go out first and then help you."

He turned to the window and climbed up on the edge smoothly. He brushed the rest of the glass out of his way as he moved, stepping out and onto the thick trunk of the fallen tree. Once he was out, he balanced on the trunk, moving away just enough to give Samara room to climb on. Once there was, he crouched down, swaying slightly and regaining his balance quickly. He offered his hand out toward the window,waiting on her to take it so he could help her out.