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Fuck.
The first thought Gary King’s mind could come up with as he watched the blazing remains of his childhood town burn before his eyes, followed by a mantra of: This is my fault. I did this.
This is my fault.
I did this.
This is my fault.
My fault
My fa-
“We should get going”
Oh. Right. he wasn’t alone.
“How Sam? The car-?”
Andy. Ever the worrier.
“We walk. My house isn’t too far, we can go there for tonight…”
“And then what?”
Gary could feel the vibrations of Andy’s voice from where his head rested against his shoulder. It wasn’t comfortable per-say. Though it was definitely comforting. And for the life of him, Gary couldn’t remember the last time he felt this comfortable. This Safe. Despite all the aches and pains that were currently coursing throughout his entire body.
Because damn, everything hurt. His head, his right leg, his left shoulder. There wasn’t a single part of him that didn’t feel bruised.
And yet.
He still felt safe. Andy made him feel safe. They were both here and alive. And even if Gary didn’t want to be, he thanked whatever gods were out there that Andy was.
Sam and Steven too of course.
But mostly Andy.
It was strange though. They’d been sitting there for a while at this point, an hour at least. And considering… well. Everything. Gary was a bit surprised that the larger man hasn’t pushed him away by now. Not that he’s complaining. Gary is exhausted, both physically and mentally. Not to mention he could feel the start of a hangover ebbing in the back of his head. Shit.
I didn’t want this.
It wasn’t supposed to go this way.
I shouldn’t be here.
I don’t want to be here.
He closed his eyes, willing this to all be a dream; To wake up back in his room at the hospital. Then again, maybe this was a dream… maybe he’d never left -never broken out that too small room. Never gone and rounded up his old friends, dragged them away from their comfortable lives... never got Peter and Oliver killed... and for what? One final night of glory? Please.
It would make sense after all, if all of this was all just one fucked up dream. Or maybe not a dream- that’s it, Maybe this was all some sort of prolonged hallucinatory episode. It wouldn’t be his first. After all, aliens? No fucking way.
But no. Opening his eyes again, Gary was faced the harsh reminder that, yes, this was real. A hallucination couldn’t hurt this badly. The sight in front of him was far too real, too raw, for even his fucked-up brain to create.
His hometown.
On fire.
Fuck.
Distantly, through a fog of exhaustion, he realized that the others were talking about…something. Or, at least they had been.
Apparently, they’d stopped.
And as much as Gary wanted to revel in the silence, there was something nerve wracking about this one. Especially when it came so abruptly.
Gary could swear they’d just been talking.
Looking up, he realized with no small amount of discomfort that they were all focused on him.
Were they talking to me? Did- did they ask me a question?
Andy and Steven were both kneeling in front of him (When did that happen? Hadn’t Andy been beside him?), There was a hand on his un-injured shoulder. Andy’s hand. Steven’s hands were balled together, knuckles white, fingers twitching with energy.
He’d done that in school. Whenever he had been nervous or scared. Why would he be scared now?
Behind them stood Sam, looking a bit worn, but none worse for wear. Her arms were wrapped around her chest and covered in dirt, and there was a bit of the blue gunk from the blanks in her hair, but overall, she looked better off than the rest of them.
They were all dirty and bloody, and covered in blue goo, they must have been quite the spectacle. That is. If there was anyone alive to see them.
“Gary!”
Oh. Right. They were talking.
And Sam sounded annoyed.
“What?” he asked, pulling his knees tighter against his chest, attempting to push himself away from their view. Though Andy’s hand still held his shoulder.
If only he could just disappear into the ground beneath him. Maybe it would open up and swallow him whole. That’d be nice.
“Will you pay attention!?”
Steven was looking at him with what may have been both concern and irritation. Though Gary had a feeling it was mostly the latter.
“Sam asked if you were okay to walk. You know, after that hit you took from the car and all?” He gestured to Gary’s torn and bloody trouser leg.
Oh shit, he was bleeding. When the fuck did that happen?
“Of course I can bloody walk, Jesus.” Gary pulled his leg away from his chest to examine it. There was a small gash visible through the torn fabric, but despite the large amount of blood, it seemed mostly superficial.
“Jus’ a flesh wound.” He mumbled.
Ha.
I should watch that again.
Oh. Right.
Can’t watch movies without power.
Wait.
“Why do I need to walk?”
“We’re going to Sam’s.” Andy told him, lightly squeezing the hand he had on Gary’s shoulder. The effect was grounding.
Gary suddenly remembered why he was here. What he had done.
Not that he’d forgotten.
I have to pay for this
It’s my fault
“No thanks.” He said, pulling out of Andy’s grasp. “I think I’m gonna st-“
“I’m not giving you a choice Gary.”
Gary raised his head to meet Andy’s gaze. There were so many emotions in his old friend’s face. Anger, exhaustion, the ever-present exasperation that he had when Gary was around. And even a bit of what looked like concern. Something else was there too, deep in his eyes, shining through the dirty lenses of his glasses. It looked like determination. And Gary knew that he wasn’t getting out of this. It was pointless to argue with him.
Why though? Why did Andy care about him? After all he’d done. He didn’t need to help him.
Gary didn’t deserve his help
Then Andy spoke again, in a tone that was slightly softer than before “Come on mate, let’s get you up”
Before Gary could protest, he was being hauled to his feet by Andy and Steven, the latter of the two grabbed his wrist to do so, causing an almost blinding pain to flood Gary’s senses.
“fuck!”
Gary let out a sharp cry. Immediately his companions halted their movements to look at him with a combination of worry and confusion. Alarmed, Steven released his hold on Gary’s wrist, causing him to lose his footing and tumble into Andy’s out stretched arms that imedeatly wrapped around his side to steady him.
“Shit, what’s wrong?” Steven asked, looking worriedly at Gary. Gary shook his head, still gripping at his wrist, his face twisting with pain.
“It’s nothing, ‘m fine.”
They didn’t need to know. God, he wished that Andy didn’t know.
Though both Steven and Sam gave him looks that clearly said they didn’t believe him, any questions they may have had were cut short when Andy shook his head at them and mouthed ‘later’ when he thought Gary couldn’t see.
He could. But he didn’t have it in him to care at the moment. At least they didn’t ask him any more questions.
“Come on,” Andy said in a low voice, wrapping an arm under his shoulder to support his weight, “Let’s go.” And without another word of protest on Gary’s part, the four of them slowly headed down towards the road.
~&~&~&~&~&~
It didn’t take them long to get to Sam’s, though the trip would have been a much shorter one had the car still worked. And if they had been making it in daylight. It took them about an hour and a half, though most of that was due to Gary’s leg. After the adrenalin from the night’s events had worn off, he realized that there was quite a lot of pain radiating from the cut that was beginning to feel like much more than ‘just a flesh wound’, though he wasn’t sure at what point he had actually injured it. In fact, there was pain coming from most of his body; aside from the cut in his leg, his head ached with the hangover that was slowly consuming him, his shoulder felt like someone had hit him with an iron rod, and the cuts on his wrists burned more than shots of vodka.
Those hurt more than any of his other injuries. And the only thing that seemed to help was when he put pressure on them. A tactic of which the others seemed to notice.
“Is there something up with your wrist Gary?” Sam asked as she unlocked her front door.
“Must have pulled something s’all.” He said, slurring slightly as he made his way into her sitting room. Off to the side visible in the moon light that was streaming through a window, was the most comfortable looking couch Gary had ever seen. Though, that may have been the exhaustion clouding his judgement. Whatever the case, he didn’t need to be told twice when Andy said to go sit down.
Plopping his dirt and goo covered self down, he closed his eyes as he sunk satisfyingly into the plush cushions.
They were so soft. Oh, and there was a pillow beside him. Lovely.
“Andy. Is- is he alright?”
“Does he bloody look alright?”
“I mean, none of us are alright… there were aliens. Sam lost her brother for fucks sake… But, he looks, less alright than the rest of us.”
“Steven’s right Andy, there was something wrong with him before the aliens. Something happened Andy, his wrist… you saw them, y-you know what’s wrong, don’t you?”
“He… God Sam. I don’t think Gary’s been alright for a long time.”
Well, he isn’t wrong.
Gary decided to stop paying attention after that. They could talk about him all they want, it didn’t matter. All he wanted to do now was gently drift into oblivion.
Apparently, Andy had other idea.
It wasn’t ten minutes into his exhaustion nap when he felt something tapping on his shoulder, the injured one this time. Opening his eyes, he saw that Andy was sitting on a chair in front of him, his face illuminated by light pouring from candles that must have been placed around the room during his far too short nap
“Sit up Gary.”
“wha? ‘why?”
“I need to see if you popped any stitches.”
“No. You don’t.”
“Gary.”
“Andy.”
“I’m not doing this. Not with you. Not right now. You will let me see your arms willingly, or I will make you. This isn’t a negotiation.”
Gary glared up at him. But none the less, he sat up and obediently held out his arms.
“You’re going to have to take your jacket off first.”
Grumbling, with pain shooting off in his shoulders and wrists, Gary gingerly pulled off his coat and dropped it onto the couch beside him.
“Which one hurts more?”
“Left.”
Andy carefully laid Gary arm in his lap and began to unwrap the bandage that was now covered in a layer of dirt. Beside him he heard Sam gasp softly.
Both her and Steven were still in the room, standing off to Andy’s side, eyes focused on Gary’s wrist. The bandage was mostly off now, leaving his handiwork on display for all to see. A long and deep looking cut that ran from one side of his wrist to the other. Red and inflamed with rows of small black stitches standing out against the skin, flecks of dried blood surrounding the area.
“Not as bad as I was expecting” Andy said, looking closely at the stitches “though it does look like you’ve popped a few. How- how long ago did-?”
How long had it been since his last attempt? Three, no, four- five days?
It seemed like ages ago that he first ended up in that place, around two months if he had to guess.
Gary could remember sitting in his apartment with a box-cutter in hand one minute, the next he was waking up in the hospital psych ward. Involuntary commitment. It was worse that anything he’d ever experienced. The nurses were kind enough, the doctors too. And they seemed to genuinely want to help. But that help came with a price; no privacy, period. They were there when he woke up, when he ate, they told him where to go and when. They told him when to go to bed.
They told him when to go to fucking bed.
Too risky to leave him unattended for long, they said, he might do something to harm himself.
They were right.
The second attempt had been messier, a stolen knife from the kitchen. He used his shower time to cut in the exact same spots, deeper this time. Not deep enough it seemed. It was less than five minutes after he made the second cut when two orderlies rushed in, one holding him down and using a towel to staunch the bleeding while the other called for help.
He still doesn’t know how they knew.
In all honesty, it still amazes him that he was able to break out at all.
Andy clears his trought and Gary realizes that the others are still looking at him expectantly
“Five days.” He finally says.
They don’t need to know the rest.
“God Gary.” Steven says softly.
Sam looks at him like he just killed a puppy.
“Why didn’t you say something?”
Gary doesn’t respond to either of them. Sam’s ceiling is suddenly very interesting to look at.
Maybe the ceiling with rip open and I’ll be impaled by a water pipe
“I don’t think there’s much we can do about it but clean them up, I don’t trust myself with a needle. Sam, do you have a first aid kit?”
“Uh, yeah, upstairs, let me just, I’ll go get it.”
“Steven.”
“Yeah Andy?”
“Why don’t you go help her”
“Wh-oh, okay. Yeah. I’ll just uh, do that.”
And with that, Gary found himself alone with Andy for the first time since they’d been at The World’s End.
Andy wasn’t even looking at him, his focus entirely Gary’s other wrist. Eyes not leaving the hospital bracelet that sat loosely against his palm.
“Five days, and what, they just let you out?”
Gary couldn’t meet his eyes. Damn that was an interesting light fixture.
“I see. That’s why… That’s why you told the officer that you were Peter, isn’t it? Why your mum kept calling? They didn’t let you out. You broke out.” Andy let out a small laugh “Of course you did. You’re Gary fucking King. Attempts suicide one day, goes on a bender the next. There’s nothing you won’t do.” Gary finally looks down to meet his eyes, surprised to see that theres tears in them. “You’re fucked up mate.”
“I know.”
“Seriously fucked up.”
“Jesus Andy, I said I know. Just -just leave it will you?”
“It’s like you need a minder twenty-four-seven just to make sure you don’t blow yourself, or something else, up.”
“Seems a bit late for that. With the blanks and all.”
“Right. Almost forgot that happened, so focused on you being such a bloody idiot.”
He’s still looking at Gary, his face covered in dirt and blood. There’s blue goo on his cheek. His eyes are blood shot and tears are leaking from them. But his mouth has a small smile on it, one filled with so much fondness that Gary can hardly bare to look at it.
I don’t deserve this.
Andy shouldn’t be crying over me.
All I do is hurt the people I cares about.
He feels wetness beneath is eyes.
Great, now he’s crying too.
He’s so fucking tired.
“I’m sorry.” He says, voice barely above a whisper, mostly from fear that it would crack if he spoke any louder.
His hands were still in Andy’s lap. Which made it slightly awkward when the larger man leaned forward and wraps his arms around him.
“I know”
After years of not speaking to one another, there he was. Sitting in Sam’s house, no power, covered in alien goo, being hugged by Andy. If someone told him a week ago, that this was going to happen, he’d have laughed in their face and told them that they belonged in the psych ward. And yet, here he was
Without being able to help it, Gary felt sobs begin to wrack his frame, tears poured from his eyes soaking into Andy’s shirt. He felt like such an idiot. He didn’t usually cry. He wasn’t really the type. He usually preferred to handle his emotions with a pint or two of beer, something the shrinks at the hospital called an ‘unhealthy coping mechanism’. So why was he crying now? Must be the exhaustion he reasoned. That seemed like a common occurrence for the past couple of hours. Not knowing what to do, but being unable to stop crying, he elected to just sit there and let Andy hold him, rubbing circles into his back, careful of his injured wrists.
~&~&~&~&~&~
He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, only that eventually Sam and Steven returned with a med-kit, and Andy pulled away so that he could take care of Gary’s wrists.
He cleaned the left one up first, wiped the blood away with a damp rag, then applied antibiotic cream before wrapping it up with a clean bandage. Then he moved onto his right wrist. He used a pair of scissors that Sam brought to cut off the hospital bracelet, which Gary saw Sam grab and slipped into her pocket. Then he gently undid the bandage.
“It’s not as bad as the left” he said, “all of the stitches look alright, though I’m worried that this one looks infected.”
“Did you get any type of antibiotic at the hospital Gary?” Steven asked him, sitting down next in an arm chair to Gary’s left.
“I think I did? They gave me a lot of stuff... I wasn’t allowed to have the bottles though.”
“Oh, uh, I guess that make, sense.”
The room returned to relative silence as Andy worked to clean and bandage Gary’s wrist. After he finished, he made Gary role up his trouser leg so he could look at the cut there, it wasn’t too deep, though the skin around it was a little irritated. Andy gave it the same treatment as the wrists, cleaned then bandaged. After that he moved onto a cut on Gary’s forehead that he wasn’t aware he’d gotten.
Once he was all bandaged up, Sam handed him two oval pills and a glass of water.
“For the pain” she said, sitting down beside him “left over from when I tore my ACL a few years back, should work in about an hour. Might knock you out too.”
Gary eyed them for a minute, before tossing them back and taking a sip from the water. handing Sam the glass back, she set it on a side table, and they all sat there in silence, no one willing to speak first.
I destroyed the world, how can they help me?
Finally, Gary couldn’t take it anymore.
“Why’re you being so nice to me? I fucked everything up.”
“Gary-” Sam started, placing her hand on his knee.
“No!” he shoved it off “I don’t get it! I ruined everything…It’s all my fault! why-?”
“You didn’t bring the aliens mate.” Steven told him, “They were already here. They probably would have gotten to us eventually.”
“I still dragged you into it. You should have left me.”
It’s all my fault
Andy grabbed his chin and brought it up to look at him.
“Listen to me Gary King. You don’t say shit like that. You- you’re sick. And I know we’ve had our issues, but I’m not leaving you. You need help. We- I, I didn’t see that before. But now I know better. And end of the world or not, I’m not losing you to yourself. Not when we just risked our lives fighting bloody alien robots of all things. Do you understand?”
His eye’s bore into Gary’s, jaw firm, he wasn’t going to take any answer but yes.
“I- I understand.”
He didn’t really, but it was what they wanted to hear.
“Good. Now, why don’t you get some sleep okay? We can figure out a plan when you wake up.”
Andy nodded and stood up along with Sam, and the two of them helped Gary into a comfortable position on the couch. Andy placed one of the pillows beneath his head and Sam picked up his coat and hung it on a rack beside the door. Then Steven came over and draped a blanket over him. Andy blew out some of the candles that were closest to him and then the three of them went into the kitchen. Far enough away that their voices wouldn’t disturb him too much, but close enough to hear him should he call out. As Gary lay listening to their voices discussing what to do about the power, and food in the refrigerator, he felt the pain medicine kick in, and within moments, drifted off into a much need sleep.