Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ever since the Walk things had changed. Yes, this was to be expected after seeing death first-hand, nearly experiencing it, and then, suddenly, being handed everything you could ever want, but this was different. The nightmares, the guilt, the aches were expected. The awkwardness was not.

Ray guessed it was one thing to be on the Walk together with the forced proximity and shared trauma, and another to be together in the After world together—no cameras, no audience, no rules.

It felt like what they had was largely left on that Maine highway.

Pete had, naturally, been there for Ray as he recovered in the hospital. Helping him get to the bathroom, nearly carrying him more than just providing a crutch, eating together—at times feeding Ray himself—and sleeping in the same room, once Pete himself was healed well enough, waking up intermittently through the night.

There had been instances through the cold, dark hospital nights where both Ray and Pete would wake at the same time, with or without nightmares.

Both of the boys had similar signs when they had their nightmares. Squirming, furrowed brows and clammy hands, and occasionally whimpering or sleep talking, which had been more prevalent in Ray’s nightmares.

Ray would often suddenly start to jerk in his sleep, making faces between disgust and fear, muttering things Pete had come to recognize. “Promise me… promise…” would be Ray’s dreams of Curley, the first man, or boy, to die. His dreams seemed to be his recollections of the people he couldn’t save on the walk, while Pete himself hadn’t had that kind of concern for the other boys as Ray had from the beginning.

Pete’s nightmares consisted of Art and Olson, of course, as Art’s rosary returned to Ray’s neck at some point in their stay, constantly reminding the two of them of their friend, while Pete never forgot about Clementine, already thinking of ways to get money to her, once the hospital stay was over and Ray felt well enough to travel. But largely, Pete’s dreams consisted of his own words, over and over, as he dreamt of Ray’s near-death on loop. “If you fall over I won’t pick you up,” ringing in his ears as he watched Ray drop to the ground. His dreams weren’t quite up to speed with the reality: Ray’s alive.

During Ray’s nightmares, Pete, trying his best to be gentle with the young man in the bed beside him, would get up from the visitor’s chair that had slowly been converted into his new bed, and lightly squeeze Ray’s shoulder, with whispers of “Ray, c’mon… you’re okay, you’re okay, c’mon compadre, wake up Ray, it’s over.”

After a moment of feeling Pete’s hand on his shoulder alongside his words and breath falling across his face, Ray would stir awake, seemingly in a daze at first, before he remembered he’s alive, in a hospital, not dying, with Pete. Wiping his face, whether it be drool, sweat, or tears, Ray would snap back to reality, giving the man leaning over him an embarrassed, but thankful, grin, telling him to go back to bed after thanking him.

In those brief moments, even though it hurt Pete to see his friend that way, that short smile would make it difficult for him to return to bed, or his chair.

Some nights they would be able to talk about the nightmares, other nights Ray would try to go back to bed instantly as Pete would spare glances over to him before seeing Ray’s breath slow once again with sleep.

Occasionally, on the nights where they talked about it, Pete still standing over Ray with a hand on his shoulder, Ray would have a wave of guilt, not unfamiliar to him when it came to Pete at this point, and would offer up a side of the bed.

“I’m sorry, we’re talking about my nightmares and how I’m feeling, and you’re still standing up,” Ray would always begin, reminded of the soreness the both of them had in their feet especially. Ray moved to the left edge of the bed, pressing his side against the railing of the bed while moving to snap down the right railing. “Here, sit down. You sure make that chair look comfortable but I know it’s not, Pete.” Ray said after he successfully took down the railing, looking up to Pete sympathetically.

“No, no,” Pete would shake his head. “I’m good here.. It’s just standing after all, not walking, even if that is my strong suit,” Pete would shrug off Ray’s offer as he smiled down at him. The truth was, his feet really did kill him. Both of them had lost a few toes, luckily not their whole feet completely. Apart from that, even getting up was a chore, as if their bodies were both trying to reject anything that could lead them to walking for so long again. Pete had to catch himself from falling most times he got up, even if it was to help Ray.

“‘M serious, lay down, Pete, for chrissakes. I can’t stand thinking about you standing up this whole time after everything. Just because I’m the one still in the bed doesn’t mean you are healed, too.” Ray argued.

“Doesn’t mean I was the one shot, though. You need the bed more than I do. I promise, I’m all good. I can sit down if I want to.” Pete tried to reason with Ray as he couldn’t help but look at where he knew bandage laid beneath Ray’s gown. He had seen, and tried to help, every time the Nurses came in and changed the dressings on the two wounds Ray had on his stomach, looking at Ray’s face as he would smile for support, or look away depending on how Ray was feeling that day.

Despite five days of sleeping on each other, constantly touching, and pissing and shitting in public, Ray still felt embarrassed in such an enclosed space as nurse’s would lift up his gown while the hospital bed’s thin bedding covered his lower half. On the good days, though, Pete would look over to Ray to provide some comfort, but ultimately finding that it was difficult to look away from Ray in this vulnerable position. He wished he could help him, he wished he could lean over him, whispering words of support and encouragement as he himself peeled away the bandages. He would be gentle, he would make sure Ray felt okay, he thought. He believed his heart raced at the thought of it because he cared, and it angered him watching some Nurse’s trying to rush through the process. He would be better.

“Pete. Just get in the bed, don’t make me have to pull the ‘I got shot card’ back at you. I know you must still be sore, too.” Ray looked to Pete again, unconsciously pulling his gown off his stomach slightly so the outlines of the bandages weren’t as obvious.

“Okay, okay, but y’know once you fall back asleep, I’m just going back to the chair, right?”

“Sure whatever Pete, just c’mon, don’t make me have to ask you again. It’s bad enough I’m asking you to bed with me,” Ray said with a grin. “Who knows if you’ve even showered yet.”

Pete scoffed at Ray’s joke. “Okay for one, I know damn sure I’m probably more clean than you, they can’t get everything while you’re in bed still, and two, I’m a delight to have in bed, let me tell you, Ray.” Pete turned and laughed to Ray as he adjusted the full length of his body onto the bed without nudging Ray too much. As it was, Pete was now on the bed next to Pete, one leg over the other, arms folded across his chest, looking over to the man next to him.

Ray shook his head and jerked once, exhaling from his nose, in a sort of laugh before remembering the pain his torso was in. “Fair point. But you’ve been in here so much, I don’t even know when you would’ve showered, if you have, that is.”

“I have, thank you, after they said I was good to go and I got banished from my bed, leaving me stuck here with you.” Pete smiled.

“Oh good, at least I’m not roommates with a guy still half covered in his own piss. But I guess I can’t talk, I was mainly out the first days I was here, I have no clue how clean I even am—sorry.” Ray said as his smile faded to a more self-conscious apprehension on his face, looking straight ahead.

Pete moved his hand to squeeze Ray’s shoulder again. “Don’t worry, you’ve seen worse days,” Pete sniffed “you at least don’t smell bad—yet. Maybe we can see about a shower in the morning.”

“It is morning.” Ray turned to Pete with a know-it-all smirk.

“Oh shut the fuck up, Garraty,” Pete shook his head and laughed. “You know what I mean.”

“That I do, Pete, yes, I do. The next check up will be in an hour or so, I’ll ask about it. I should be discharged soon… do you think? There’s not much healing left that needs to really be done here.. I mean… I can go home.”

“I think you’re right. They can maybe hold you for a few more days to be sure but, no signs of infection you heard the doctor say, and everything else can be recovery from home.” Pete agreed. But there was one issue in the back of his mind. What was home? And: did it include him?

Chapter Text

As Pete had thought, the hospital only kept Ray for four more days, making sure the antibiotics were working and his wounds were on track to heal nicely before giving Ray his discharge papers. His feet, on the other hand, were scabbed and calloused, making walking a challenge, but that would be something both Ray and Pete would have to recover from.

After a shower and being provided with some clothes (per Pete’s request), the two men were able to leave.

On the last night of their stay, though, Pete’s questions came to the surface, not being able to see “what’s next” if, well, they were to go their separate ways.

The last days the two spent in the hospital largely went as usual, with Pete in the chair beside Ray’s bed. In the beginning, Pete had to feed Ray at times when he was too sore to really sit up, or it was too much effort to sit up, feed himself, and then chew and swallow on top of it, after days of food that could be ingested largely without much struggle.

The hospital food ranged from toast and microwaved eggs or pancakes to half stale sandwiches and stews or soups for dinner. Pete hadn’t minded cutting up anything, bringing drinks to Ray’s mouth, or talking until the food cooled down some. In some ways, the hospital stay felt like a prolonging of the Walk, a detachment from the Real World still going on outside.

Pete, however, had never been a part of that “real world”, anyways. What made the real world normal had never been his normal. The real world meant family, people working, girlfriends, boyfriends, stability. He had known no family, a few stragglers of friends, working whatever, wherever, he could find, and as for relationships… well, he had never had a girl, like Ray had.

Which is what made entering the “real world” so abnormal. The walk, for what it was, was far worse than Pete’s regular life, an abnormal one itself. Thinking of returning to that instability as a comfort just didn’t feel right. In a few ways, the walk had given Pete more stability… more regularness. What did he have to worry about? It was just one foot in front of the other forever. No running around, no fights, no jobs, no relationships. Just walking with Ray at his side.

Thinking of the “real world” being a relief, but also a return to the unstable, broke Pete in ways he couldn’t think about too hard.

Even though he had gotten the prize money, that didn’t exempt him from returning to his old ways. Sure, Pete could have a house, maybe wouldn’t have to work, but he’d still be on the move forever, until something or someone grounded him.

The closest he had gotten to this, realizing it hadn’t even been two weeks since they had met, was Ray. The second the man had reached his hand out to him and offered his name with an already-weary smile, just barely revealing crooked front teeth, he felt a fit. He knew going into the walk that, at the least, he had someone to walk with, a pair.

And, not having talked about what comes next, Pete feared losing this. He had never had a brother or family before, and Ray felt like the closest thing to it.

But Ray… he had a mom. He had a girl he could go back to, now that he lived. He had a home, a real home with memories and comfort. After the walk, he’d be in no rush to leave that relief any more than Pete would be to leave Ray’s side.

It’s just that Pete wasn’t sure if he could go home, too.

The night before Ray was scheduled to leave, Ray and Pete had both prepared to reenter the world. With new clothes and a full meal, the two decided to shave in the bathroom to clean up.

Pete’s hair never came back very fast himself, and he didn’t have much, anyways, so it was a quick routine. Mainly, Pete had just scrubbed himself again, feeling like he could never be clean enough since the walk. He could never fall asleep in his clothes again in his life, he thought.

Whereas for Ray, even by the end of the walk had had more stubble on his face and the beginnings of some on his neck than not. Given it had been another week at the hospital, Ray had nearly a full beard coming along.

Leaning over the sink while Pete dried his face off, Ray began to shave, humming a soft, short song.

“What’s that you’re humming there?” Pete turned to Ray as he moved to sit on the toilet lid.

“Oh, it’s just that lullaby I mentioned on the walk. The one my mom sang.”

“Ahh, y’know the words or do you just keep humming it over and over?” Pete teased as he began to unwrap the bandages on his foot to begin replacing them.

Ray put his hands on either side of the sink, taking a break from shaving to look over at the man to his right. “Yes, I know the words, thank you. ‘M just no good at singing it is all. My mom’s got this sweet voice though. I miss her. I don’t even know if she knows if I’m dead or alive, but I can’t wait to see her.” Ray said as he turned back to the mirror.

“D’you know the words?” Pete asked without looking up, unwrapping his other foot’s bandage.

“Mm yeah, it’s something like a city where the girls are pretty, something along that. I thought of it to myself so much on the walk that now… I think I just forget it.”

“Well your mom will be able to sing it back to you in no time,” Pete smiled.

“Pete?” Ray stopped and turned to the man again.

“What?” Pete asked with his smile still on his face, although his heart dropped to his stomach waiting for what Ray was about to ask. He knew it had to come soon. They’d have to go their separate ways.

“How are we getting to my mom?”

With one word, Pete’s worries seemed to be suddenly unrealistic. Implausible. He said we.

“I was thinking, with the prize money, we could buy a car now. Maybe even a newer one, not just the beaters most of us have.” Pete hoped his use of “we” wasn’t too strong. After all, Ray said it first.

“Yeah, yeah, that makes sense. Okay good. I just wanted to see if we had a plan. My mom’s about 100 miles or so North of us. I’m not sure where we could get a car around here, but it would be maybe a two hour drive once we got one. I know some hospitals have… or had.. like some kind of service. Maybe we can hitch a ride from here to somewhere more in town.”

“Sure, Ray, that sounds good. We’re good.” Pete said, moving to stand up. His new bandages were on with some salve beneath them. He dreaded the thought of putting on shoes to leave tomorrow.

Ray dragged the razor down the last strip of suds he still had on his face, then rinsed, pulling Pete’s towel off the edge of the toilet to dry. “Yeah. We’re good Pete.” Ray smiled putting the towel down in the sink, looking at himself in the mirror before turning to Pete.

“Damn, Ray, you look like a new man. I must say you did look good with it, though.” Pete said.

“Really? I never really haven’t shaved, or Jan didn’t like it. Maybe under better circumstances I’ll see some other time.”

“You sure you don’t want to walk 360 miles to see your beard again?” Pete laughed.

“Fuck no, man.” Ray laughed as he clapped his hand onto Ray’s shoulder, moving them both out of the bathroom.

The two men resumed their normal positions, with Ray sitting upright on the bed as Pete slouched in the chair beside him, kicking his feet up onto the bed to avoid putting them on the floor.

“So, you gonna go see her?” Pete asked.

“I mean yeah, we just said we’ll get a ride in the morning, get a car, you do have some cash from the winnings for the whole hospital stay so we should be good to get something cheap for now-“

“No, no, I’m sorry Ray, not Ginny, I meant Jan. You gonna see your girl again?”

“Uh-oh well, you know she’s not my girl, well not anymore.”

“Right! But that’s when you thought you were dying. You’re alive Ray. What will you do with your moment?”

“I don’t know.. I haven’t thought about it. Or thought about her, sorry. Maybe that’s just like, a sign, it’s over y’know?”

“Ray, come on, you’ve been shot twice, nearly killed more, walking for days on end. Course you haven’t thought about it, you’ve been trying to survive my friend.” Pete laughed at Ray’s simplicity.

“I guess I didn’t think of that. I mean I’ll definitely run into her. She said she was going to watch the broadcast so once she finds out I’m alive for sure, she’ll probably come see me. Or my mom will tell her.”

“Your mom like her?” Pete smiled.

“Oh, sure, she said Jan was probably the prettiest girl in town, and super sweet, too. She liked learning how to knit with my mom and I.”

“You knit?” Pete asked seriously.

“Yeah, I do.”

“I didn’t see that from you Ray Garraty. Good thing you can still surprise me.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m sure my mom will tell you everything about me once she meets you and finds out you saved me. Again.” Ray smiled looking down, picking at the callouses on his hands.

“I’m looking forward to meeting Mrs. Garraty, maybe she’ll teach me that song you can’t remember the words to.”

“I’m sure she’ll do anything for ya, Pete.” Ray said, looking at Pete. It was the most sincere face Pete had seen in his life.

“You know I am a hit with the ladies,” Pete joked, clasping his hands and putting his arms behind his head.

“But you don’t have a girl?” Ray asked.

“Ah well, that’s just by choice, compadre. I’m a lone ranger where I’m from, home to home, job to job it is.”

“Right… it’s, it’s not like that anymore Pete, I got you. And maybe wherever you get settled you’ll find someone.”

Once again, Pete’s heart stopped working. Ray had used “we” earlier… but now referring to his future, he was alone.

“Yeah… maybe, Ray.”

“I mean it’s like you said on the walk,” Ray began with a smirk.

“What’d I say, you know you’re remembering a lot of unimportant stuff from the walk if you can remember something I said and not your mother’s song.” Pete said as a joke, but Ray’s face slackened.

“I’m so sorry, Ray, I’m just messing with you, we’ll see her tomorrow, you’ll be alive, she’ll have her son. It’s going to go back to normal tomorrow, for you.”

“It’s okay,” Ray said, but the look on his face stayed. “For me?” He turned to Pete.

“Yeah, you got your mom, your home, your town, your friends,”

“Pete, I hate to break it to you, but you’re the only friend I got. Back home is going to be the new normal for you, too.”

Again, Ray saved Pete. For all the times Ray has endlessly reminded Pete that he saved him and has said he does too much for him, Ray never realizes how much he saves Pete, even if it’s not physically.

“Ever since my Dad… since my Dad died, a lot of people in town don’t talk to me and my Ma. I get why, but I didn’t have many friends before it, anyway.”

“I’m sorry, Ray. But you don’t have to host me, I’m sure you and your mom will want to be together after everything. I can find a home.”

“Pete, you already have a home. My house is yours. Me and my mom can be together, sure, but you can be there, too.”

“Thank you,” Pete looked to Ray. “Thank you.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, each recognizing the other’s gratefulness, as the nurses came in, one with dinner, the other to check on Ray before the morning.

Pete sat up and thanked the Nurse for the food, moving the rolling table with the two trays between him and Ray’s bed.

Again, the Nurse lifted Ray’s shirt this time, and checked his wounds after examining his heart rate and temperature. There were no longer bandages at night, but there was a balm placed on both gunshot wounds, on his stomach as well as his back. As Pete situated the food, he didn’t look away. Ray kept his eyes fixed on the Nurse as she asked him to rate his pain and comfortability on a scale from one to ten.

Pete took the moment to think. This really could be it, he thought. Him and Ray, living together, seeing his mother, meeting others he knows, eventually, having his own place but, for the time being, soaking in the family dynamic he can soon have at his fingertips.

The nurse soon left and Pete handed Ray his plate of food, bringing his own plate to his lap.

“Gonna fornicate ‘til I can’t walk,” Ray said in-between his first bites. Since the walk the two men eat their meals like they’ll disappear.

“What the hell did you say?” Pete looked up.

“No, what the hell did you say. That’s what you said on the walk.” Ray laughed with his mouth full of the cornbread that came with tonight’s stew.

“Jesus! You’re still on that. God, Garraty, you just thinking about me talking about fornicating?” Pete laughed.

“Hey, McVries, you’re the one who said it, I’m just telling it how it is.” Ray laughed and reflexively put his hand to his stomach.

“Yeah, yeah, you say that now!” Pete laughed even harder, thinking about Ray holding that in the entire conversation.

“Whatever,” Ray said as he moved to grab the water bottle his meal came with. “Cheers, to our last night in the hospital.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” Pete moved to grab his water off the cart. “Cheers, my friend.”

“Cheers,” Ray smiled as they both moved their waters to their lips and drank. Since the walk, the two cherish water more, too. They each take a minute before they swallow.

Chapter Text

The next morning, the hardest thing for Pete and Ray is putting on new boots. With bandages still on, both men loosely laced their boots and set out for the front desk of the hospital. They had no other belongings spare Ray’s baseball and Art’s rosary, leaving their dirty bags light on their shoulders.

As they checked out, they arranged to get on the hospital’s hardly running shuttle service, which could only go so far as 25 miles in any direction, so the boys chose to go to the nearest downtown area from where they were in Northern Massachusetts, after checking the local phone book and seeing three businesses that sounded as close as they could get to either a mechanic or a dealer, praying either had any cars on hand for sale.

Surprisingly, the end of their stay at the hospital had few hiccups. The Major, it seemed, carried fairly laissez-faire attitudes to the whole ordeal, telling Pete he can pay the medical bills, so long as his friend survived, and he would be receiving mail in regards to his prize winnings. So far on the hospital paper trail, he’s only left Ray’s address everywhere, so if all goes according to the Major, they should both get the money at the Garraty house.

As Ray finished his papers they both turned to the front door where the bus would pull up in mere moments.

“How’re you feeling Garraty?” Pete asked while giving Ray a playful nudge. Standing, walking together asking this question only reminds the both of them of the only other time theyve walked together.

But now, they’re walking together forever, at least Pete hoped. One day this won’t feel like the walk, he thought. One day this will just be how it is. With these sinking thoughts in his head, Pete continued to appear light for Ray, as he was partially excited the two would finally be outside, in the sun, free.

“Feeling like I need these fuckin’ boots off,” Ray winced as they went down the couple steps leading them out front of the hospital. But, with a smile he turned to Pete, “And pretty fuckin’ excited McVries.” To which Pete couldn’t help but smile back, wrapping an arm around the other man’s shoulders, resting his hand at the base of his neck, where Ray’s now overgrown hair came to rest over.

“Shit,” Pete laughed. “Me too. Me too. I’m ready to get some food!” Pete all but yelled towards the end.

Ray shook is head, unable to still suppress his smile. “We just ate. Literally just ate in the room before we walked out.”

“I know, I know, but I’m saying some real food. Some fruit. Some home made… well I’ve never had much home made stuff but I figure anything’ll do.”

“I’m sure once my mom’s over the shock of me not being an apparition she’ll home make you anything, Pete. If you want to try the oatmeal chocolate chip, they’re my favorite of hers.”

“Then that’s the only thing I want, my friend.” Pete returned without a second thought.

As he finished his sentence, looking just a second longer at Ray, who kept his gaze ahead, looking for the bus, the shuttle had pulled into the hospital.

As the two looked around before boarding, they were the only people getting on. They had a largely quiet hospital stay, too, but thought they would see more people around downstairs, where it still looked more empty than not. Only goes to show how no one can even afford going to the hospital, and suddenly, Pete is one of the people that can.

They both got on the shuttle, explaining their destination followed by displaying ID and their hospital receipts as proof. They both chose to sit all the way to the back, earning a suspicious glance from the bus driver.

As they sat down next to each other, they both sighed in relief, with Ray going as far as taking his shoes off, and Pete following.

“What’s that they say, no shirt no shoes no service?” Ray asked.

“I mean if you’re suggesting,” Pete smiled as he grabbed the collar of his shirt and moved to take it off.

“Pete-“ Ray choked as he started to laugh, pulling Pete’s hands off his shirt. “I didn’t say I wanted to be kicked off the fucking shuttle. Hence the no service part, sorta.” Ray said, dragging his hands down his face in mock frustration.

“I know, I know. Don’t forget your shoes though, we’re gonna need those.”

“How much walking do you plan on making me go through today? You know I was shot righ-“

“Yes I know you were shot Ray Garraty, I’m just saying we don’t know where a car will be, and I definitely don’t want to be smelling your sweaty fuckin’ feet all day, thanks,” Pete teased.

“Oh, don’t worry, that I think we can agree on. Thankfully I think the worst I’ve ever smelled was on that walk and we both survived, well, barely.”

“Now that we can definitely agree on. Safe to day hygiene-wise we are only up from here.” Pete and Ray both laughed at that, but then settled into the reality of it all. Thinking of the kid that died with the shits, spared no dignity, thinking of one of the good moments when Art smelled disgusting. Thinking, generally, of all that was now behind them physically, but present emotionally.

Pete could sense the both of them were dipping emotionally into a place he wasn’t sure they could come back from, or at the least come back from with morale for the day to keep moving. He figured he’d get to planning.

“So, how I see it… we try and find a car, for our feet’s sake I hope to God quickly, then next thing we do is get food—yes Garraty we will get food—then we can make the drive straight to Freeport, where you can be our navigator from there. I don’t have much, so I don’t need much, except some clothes and a place to rest.” Pete explained, looking to Ray after finishing.

Ray, nodding along, said, “Sure, but don’t worry about needing anything. I have clothes you can have or maybe some of my Dad’s old clothes may fit you better, and for the rest part you can have my room, obviously.”

Pete raised his hand in the air in a “stop” gesture. “Now what part of anything makes that obvious—you have two wounds still healing on top of everything else from the Walk—you’re sleeping in your bed-“

Ray quickly laughed, motioning for Pete to put his hand down playfully. “No- I’m saying we share my room, dumbass. To be honest, my house isn’t that big. We just have my mom’s room and my room, and downstairs we don’t really have a couch or anything, just chairs or one of those like small couches but you wouldn’t fit on it. We’ll figure it out. One of us can get the floor or we can just share, it’s fine.” Ray calmly explained as Pete’s cautiousness eased up.

However, Pete’s cautiousness was swapped for something worse. Ray wouldn’t be able to tell much, especially since he kept his face straight, but the thought of sharing a bed froze Pete up.

He was sure Ray perhaps got the idea now, with his response “no Ray I don’t,” to having a girlfriend, or Ray switching up “girl” for “someone” when they last talked about relationships. But it was one thing to suggest, and another to confirm what Ray may think…

What really, really had been on Pete’s mind, the entire hospital stay, was what would have been Ray’s last words.

“I love you Pete”

Sure, Pete figured Ray loved him, and Pete loved him, too. Whether or not you like it, whether or not it’s queer, you walk over three hundred miles, piss, shit, and sleep on a guy for 4 nights and 5 days, that’s a bond that goes beyond friendship. Where it get’s confusing is where it falls into brotherhood for some, and romance for others. And, as it was, Pete was others, and had been for a very long time.

Ray, on the other hand, he wasn’t so sure. And while Pete was confident in his sexuality, in their relationship, he didn’t want to go and ruin a good thing. The only good thing. He figured what Ray had said would come up eventually, and if so, it could be on Ray’s terms. It was his last words, after all. He didn’t want to back Ray into a corner of feeling that he “owed” Pete an explanation.

And if he was right, and what he felt was mutual, Ray would say it again sooner or later.

He just hoped it was sooner.

But, after a brief pause, Pete turned to Ray. “That’s a better plan than what I had, I may admit, Garraty. You just better not kick in your sleep.” Pete smiled.

“Okay no one said you had to share the bed, just that it’s an option.” Ray said.

And with no response to that, thankfully the bus pulled to a stop at a corner of what looked like the town’s Main Street.

The two slipped their boots back on and made their way off the bus, thanking the driver despite his obvious annoyance on his face.

“So which way do we go now McVries?” Ray turned to Pete as the bus smoke slowly plumed out beside them.

Pete covered his face with the sleeve of his shirt with one hand and half-yelled “Anywhere but here!” Pointing towards the North end of the road.

Pete and Ray begrudgingly walked every step, with memories of their last walk flooding in, and neither of them having the energy to spark conversation to discourage it.

Ray looked over to Pete, usually the better half of the both of them morale-wise, and noticed the indescribable face he wore, like he was thinking, but so lost in his thoughts he wore a blank expression.

“So.. you looking for a Cadillac, Pete?” Ray slightly elbowed Pete playfully.

“I’m looking for anything that can get us here to there no issue,” Pete said plainly. Then, a small smile began to form on his face. “And two, you can’t elbow me Garraty, you have an advantage. I can’t hit back.”

“Sure you can, the Doctors cleared me to go, they just said no lifting or moving heavy objects for a bit, and to lay it easy on exercise for a while, but it’s not like they had to tell me twice to do that when both of our feet are basically useless.”

“This may be true, compadre, but I have some serious doubts that fighting people makes the cut for things you are allowed to do.” Pete retorted.

“Sounds like you’re nervous McVries,” Ray raised both his hands up, with his thumbs hooked in his backpack straps. “Not that I can blame you.”

“Oh the second you’re healed, seriously healed, you’re gonna find out Garraty, I can promise you that.” Pete shook his head laughing as they continued down the road.

Luckily, the street came to an end of brick buildings and opened to a field, where a mowed down spot with some pavement and a garage housed a sign that said “AUTO PARTS, DETAILING, MECHANIC”, with some cars in the front all either on cinder blocks or with hoods popped.

Pete walked in and his stride changed, he was less lazy, stood up straighter, and forced himself to walk without a noticeable limp in his gait from his feet.

Ray watched as he saw Pete change his demeanor, meaning business. The man in front of him had a confidence that would have made any customer think he owned the place. Ray envied his ability to take up a room, and simply, his ability to charm just about anyone.

Pete walked up to a man that looked to be starting to replace a car’s tires. To not surprise the older man, Pete started to look at some of what they sold—gasoline, oil, coolant, cleaning supplies—and moved some things around to gently make noise.

The man working turned away from the tire he had just lifted towards the direction of Ray and Pete.

“What can I help you boys out with today. You got a car that needs fixing?” The employee asked.

“Actually… we need a car, if you’ve got any you’re willing to sell to me.” Pete started.

“A car?” The man asked.

“Yes, we need a car. We need to get home and we can’t get very far by walking,” Pete followed up.

“Now wait,” the man shifted on his feet and put down the tools he was holding. “You both were in the walk? You won the walk, am I right? Number 23 and… you are 47?”

“Yes, sir, my name’s Peter and this here-“ Pete began as hd patted the top of Ray’s back, “is Raymond.”

“It’s nice to meet you boys. I saw what you did back there, Peter, you had some balls for that. Two winners,” the man shook his head, “I never thought I’d see it.”

“Neither did we, sir.” Ray smiled.

“I’ve got a car for you both, but fair warning, there’s no returns or nothing like that, she’s got over 200,000 miles on her, and she’s about half rusted over, I only just lately started fixing her up, but if you are in a hurry, she’s about the best I got.” The man said as he turned and pointed to the door behind him, where the car presumably was behind.

“That’s quite alright, sir, as long as she runs,” Pete said.

“I’ll go get her for you, you can take her for a test drive then be on your way.”

The two boys proceeded to get in the car, which turned out to be an old blue (and mainly brown from the rust) Chevy pickup upon the worker’s return. Both men did as best as they could to pull themselves up to their seats as Pete assumed the driver’s seat and Ray the passenger’s.

“Hey Pete,” Ray began after he buckled.

“Hey, Ray,” Pete laughed, turning the key in the ignition.

“Is now a bad time to say I can’t drive?”

Chapter Text

By the end of the test driving, driving in a circle around Main Street, Pete felt confident enough that the car could get them back to Maine, to home, even if he was the only driver. They bought the car for cheap, or what was now Pete's new idea of cheap, which was everything, now that he had his winnings.

The boys were a half hour into the drive when, on the side of the road, Ray spotted a family farm selling what looked to be produce, breads, and drinks. It seemed to fit Ray's criteria of the kind of food he suggested earlier: produce and anything homemade. 

"Look," Ray pointed out the window. They had no music, but their windows were down, and, again, their shoes were kicked off and put by Ray's feet as they just talked their way along the drive. "Homemade, fruit, probably some other things, let's stop here for that food you wanted." Ray suggested.

"Don't have to tell me twice," Pete said with a smile as he immediately pulled the car into the gravel surrounding the stand.

They both walked into the place and could immediately smell all of the berries, freshly picked, staining their containers already. Pete grabbed a carton of strawberries and blueberries, while Ray walked towards the various breads and drinks they had. 

"Hey look, Pete," Ray offered, "They've got Orange Julius here." 

Pete immediately spun his head around and walked into the shed that housed all of the baked goods and drinks to see what Ray mentioned. He shook his head laughing when Ray turned to him, confused.

"What? You mentioned that drink-the drink on the walk, right?" Ray hesitated.

"Oh, I bet I did, but what you didn't notice," Pete reached his hand up, grabbing a jar from the top of the fridge. "Is the homemade moonshine they've got at the top. Now that, Ray, is more important to me than a Orange juice." Then, it dawned on Pete that Ray had said he didn't drink much on the walk.

Pausing, Pete turned to Ray. "Ray, you don't drink, do you?"

"I do... just, sometimes." Ray started, looking around at the other items in the store.

"Ray, you're kidding. You don't not drink. You've never had a drink. I'll bet you're the only person around here for miles that hasn't had a drink at your age." Pete laughed, looking at Ray the entire time he spoke so as to get the boy to look back at his face.

Ray slumped his shoulders as he grabbed a loaf of raisin bread and turned to Pete. "Okay, yes. I haven't drank. But that doesn't mean I don't want to. I just..."

"Just what? You don't wanna live a little, Garraty?"

"No it's just that..." Ray looked around, like he would be able to grab the words from thin air and finish his sentence. "Pete, what you have to understand is that I don't have a lot of friends. You're pretty much it. And then Jan, if she counts, and then my Mom, if she counts. I've had no opportunity to, honest."

Pete took a moment to think about this. It simultaneously surprised and didn't surprise Pete that Ray didn't have many friends. On the one hand, how did everyone see Ray Garraty, or speak to him, or anything and not want to talk to him forever, or listen to him forever, or just be with him. It seriously puzzled Pete that not only did Ray not have many friends, but by the sounds of it, Jan was the only person clearly interested in Ray, to his knowledge. But, on the other hand, with how Ray spoke about the Long Walk and the Major, ruminating on how it isn't voluntary, how the Major makes people feel small, it made sense that other people didn't get Ray. Sure, there were people who didn't like the Major, or the way the country operated, but so few spoke on it, at length, and so intelligently. In the end, Pete knew that something had to change, though.

"So, you're telling me we're going to get shit faced? Is that what I'm hearing Garraty? With your one, and only true friend?" Pete began to tease, holding the jar of moonshine out towards Ray.

Ray looked down as an attempt to hide his smile, but gave up, looking up and laughing. "Y'know what, sure, McVries, I'm getting shit faced with my one, true friend, the Peter McVries." Ray and Pete both looked at each other and laughed for a moment, with Pete clearly cheering this behavior on. "But it's on your dime, Pete," Ray added, his smile growing even bigger.

Pushing his shoulders back with a scoff, mocking arrogance, Pete replied, "Of course it's on my dime," grabbing the loaf from Ray's hand. "I'm the breadwinner." Pete shook the loaf and smiled. 

Ray laughed and shook his head. "That was so bad. So bad. Go pay. Please." Ray continued to laugh as he watched Pete go to the register in the back, handing over a $20, and returning with all the items in a bag. 

Ray and Pete got into the car, with the moonshine placed in the side of the door while the loaf of bread sat on the dashboard, and both fruit containers placed in between the two. 

At one point, Ray grabs the carton of strawberries, holding them in his lap while Pete unfolded a map he got from the hospital before they left, holding the map up against the wheel with his right hand, and steering for the most part with his left. 

"Hey, Ray, can you give me some strawberries, I did buy them after all," Pete smiled, looking straight ahead at the road.

"Okay, I didn't think you'd let this money get to your head, but I guess I stand corrected," Ray said as he moved the carton to the middle.

Seeing in his periphery that Ray moved the carton, Pete began: "Ray, I'm driving, I can't really reach for the strawberries right now and keep the map up, c'mon." Pete laughed.

Ray, laughed too, and stared openly at the carton, scoffing before adding: "Well," Ray exhaled. "What would you like me to do about that one?"

"I'm saying give me a strawberry Garraty, like, just give it to me," Pete said, staring ahead.

Realizing the only way he could do this, Ray picked up one of the bigger strawberries of the few that were left, and raised it to Ray's mouth, staring at his own hand holding the strawberry like it wasn't his own. 

Without a moment's hesitation, Pete leaned forward slightly and bit up to the stem of the strawberry, leaning slightly back to chew the rest of it. 

"See," Pete said, mid-chew, "It was that easy. And that good, damn! I missed strawberries." Pete continued to talk about his selection of the fruit and his excitement to try the moonshine, unlabeled in flavor, but all Ray could hear was his heart, and all he could see was the rest of the strawberry in his hand. 

For some reason, he felt compelled to eat the rest of it, or bring another strawberry to Pete's lips, only to let him bite half, and himself have the other. He looked over at Pete, swallowing the strawberry. The way his adam's apple bobbed up and down, the way his sleeves were now rolled up in the car as the day grew hotter, the way he sat in the seat as though he had driven this thing a million times before. 

"Ray, can you get me another? Are there any left?" Pete apparently kept talking, snapping Ray back to reality. Pete passed a quick glance at Ray just as he luckily zoned back in, picking up a strawberry as casually as he could, holding it up to Pete's mouth. 

As Pete moved forward towards the strawberry, Ray pulled it slightly back, with Pete only being able to bite the top of it. Ray drew his arm back and smirked as he bit off the rest of the strawberry, chewing with emphasis in front of Pete. 

"Ahh okay, you're playing dirty Garraty, not to mention, with my strawberries," Pete laughed. "I'm telling you, once those things are healed, your time's up." He shook his head.

"Not so fast, it's going to be pretty hard to get a fight in past Ginny Garraty." 

"While that may be true, compadre, there's nothing stopping me at getting you when we're alone." Pete threatened, using his right hand to shake his index finger back and forth.

"Fair point. I guess we just can't be alone then, you're too much of a risk," Ray said. "For my injuries." He added.

"Good luck sharing a bed with that risk then, Garraty. Just remember, you offered." Pete reminded as he smiled, to which Ray groaned. 

"I think I may live to regret that decision," Ray said, staring out the window and grabbing another strawberry.

"You just might Ray, you may've just made your bed.. literally, I may add."

"God, you're making me sick. I can't wait to be home."

"Lucky boy you are then, looks like we should be only miles away. Then we'll be home." We Pete thought again. We will be home. What a beautiful phrase. What a beautiful moment they're in. Even despite everything that had happened and what was to come. Nights riddled with nightmares and days riddled with reminders and memories. But the now, this moment that they had, Pete wishes he could freeze.

Ray continued to stare out the window, looking at the road that will lead him home. His mother may not know if he's even alive yet, and on the other hand, once Jan finds out he is alive, will his relationship be back? But then what would happen to Pete? They'd be friends, and they can be friends while Ray is more than friends with Jan. But something felt wrong. It felt wrong to Jan. But he pushed his thoughts down and focused on what would come first, his mother. His room. His own bathroom. His own shower. Their garden. Pete. Pete meeting his mom. Pete in his room. Pete after a shower. Pete helping in the garden as summer turned. Things would be okay.

Chapter Text

With no strawberries, no blueberries, half of a loaf of bread, and a full jar of moonshine yet, Ray and Pete pulled in front of a lonely row of houses towards the eastern edge of town. In front of them was a faded white, somewhat peeling house with a porch. The wood was clearly worn on the steps, on the railing, and on the withering chair. Pete took that as signs of love. Signs of a home. And he already felt welcome, even if that was potentially cocky. But, if all that Ray said was true, he hoped to get along with Mrs. Garraty (or Ginny? He would soon find out which was the safer option, calling her Ginny felt close, but reminded him too much of the walk, of the few good times after the ample fucking hard times).

Ray, on the other hand, felt like he couldn’t get home fast enough the entire car ride. Now that they were in front of the house, though, he couldn’t move. He froze.

Pete noticed.

“Hey, Ray, I got the moonshine, no worries hiding that.” Pete said, reaching over Ray to grab the bottle, with a smile Ray knew he put on as a distraction.

“Pete, I’m okay. Really. This is a good thing.” Ray took a deep breath. “I mean,” Ray chortled, “I’m alive, fuck’s sake.”
Pete continued to look at Ray as he seemed to be working through his emotions in real time. With the moonshine in his left hand, Pete placed his right hand on the shoulder of the man next to him.

Ray moved his hands through his hair briefly then held his head in his hands, elbows resting on his lap.

“I’m alive,” Ray said. He sounded exhausted.

“That you are, Ray. I’m no religious man, but thank fucking god you are.”

As Pete finished his sentence, Ray’s breathing picked up, stressed. He could hear the raspiness of his breath catching in his throat on every exhale. Every breath in sounding like he was breathing in frigid air.

“Ray, Ray. I’m here. We’re here. We’re alive. Your mom… she’s just on the other side of that door.” Pete encouraged, his hand unmoving from Ray’s shoulder.

“I know. I’m- I’m a fucking asshole for not getting up already. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Pete. I’m alive, and.. and I love being alive. But why can’t I love it?” Ray half sobbed between exhales. It broke Pete to hear him like this.

“It’s okay, Ray…” Pete hesitated, then remembered Ray’s own words. “Y’know what. It’s not fucking okay. It’s not okay. Believe me, I love you being alive more than pretty much everything else, but… I wish, I wish they could be here too.” Pete finally finished, the both of them knowing who they are.

“They should be here.” Ray cried, as he turned away from Pete, facing towards the window with his head still in his hands.

Pete’s heart dropped, thinking Ray felt he couldn’t see this part of him, when they were both forgetting they already had, at the end.

It came together, then, when Pete realized he moved away from him in order to reach to grab his bag from behind the seat, digging into the side pocket to grab Art’s black rosary. Pete softly exhaled, looking on in pity for Ray. For Art. For both of them.

That’s when Pete moved his arm further across Ray’s back, pulling him close to embrace him, or just hold him, like he hadn’t done it before, for five days straight.

“Come here,” Pete whispered, as Ray let himself be moved close to Pete, grasping the rosary in his left hand, and moving his right hand to grasp the back of Pete’s shirt as he reeled him in.

Ray nestled his head closer into the nook of Pete’s neck and shoulder, as Pete dropped his head to do the same, leaning against Ray, too. They both were there, quiet tears running down Pete’s face, ragged breaths coming from Ray still, as Pete hoped their embrace and Pete’s steadiness would soothe him slowly.

Pete could feel Ray’s exhales, his open-mouthed sobs coming to a silent end, followed by the shallow breezes of his exhales from his nose as he quieted.

Meanwhile, all Pete could focus on was similarly, his breath brushing against Ray’s neck, his hand clasped behind Ray’s neck, while his other hand lightly rested, just barely, on his lower back. And his lips, nearly touching the side of Ray’s neck. He briefly imagined placing his lips softly to his skin, just enough for Ray to feel the graze of it. He instead moved his hand slightly higher on Ray’s neck, just to get his fingers between the ends of his hair.

Ray clenched Pete’s shirt with more strength and breathed in slowly, trying to steady his breathing, trying to not freak out, not when he’s about to see his mom, not when his heart is right next to Pete’s, and he fears he can hear how nervous he is. He hopes Pete, with the tighter grasp, can feel how much he appreciates this. He is, after all, only alive because of him. Only here, seeing his mom, because of him.

With another deep exhale, Ray loosened his grip, with Pete, following in suit just slightly too quickly.

With Ray grabbing the loaf of bread, Pete squeezed Ray’s shoulder and grabbed the keys, leaving the car.

“You got this, Ray. You’re alive.” Pete whispered as Ray moved ahead of him to step on the front porch first.

Turning slightly to Pete behind him, Ray tried to give a brief smile, then faced the door ahead of him and knocked.

It being mid-afternoon, there was no way of telling if someone was coming. Pete looked up to see cobwebs covering the light, and as he looked back down, he heard footsteps coming closer. He stole one more glance at Pete before he had to face reality. Coming home meant they were really over. The walk was behind them. The door behind the screen slowly opened up, revealing a woman that looked too worn for her age, put together in an outfit suitable to go out, but a mess. She immediately threw her hands over her face and fell to her knees behind the screen.

Ray swung open the screen door, with Pete just catching it before it swung back to keep it open. Ray huddle down to the ground, wrapping his arms around his mother.

Pete could hear whispers of “Ma, Ma.. Mom, it’s me. I’m here. ‘M here, Mom, it’s Ray.”

Ray couldn’t help it, it was a happy moment, but he and his mom both started crying in sorrow. Cries that couldn’t help but remind both of them of the time they both lost.

“Oh, Ray,” Mrs. Garraty sobbed, “my baby,” she whispered, shrugging off his hold to press a kiss to the top of his head, only to move to hug him again.

When they all managed to get inside, Pete feeling slightly like an intruder, as he expected, though, the two boys sat in the kitchen while Ginny made coffee for the three of them, even if it was the middle of the afternoon. After coddling her son more, Ginny began to explain her own thought process over the past week or so since the broadcast ended.

“All we last heard was Peter, you,” she began, pointing to Pete, “asking for his wish. We heard him begin to say something about Ray, but the rain, the people cheering, the noises, we couldn’t hear anything. There had been rumors that you were alive,” she said, looking at Ray. “But there were rumors that you were gone, too. And that no one had known where Peter had gone.” The boys nodded, letting her finish her story.

“But, I had a feeling. I had a feeling. I know I sound crazy,” she gestured up and down herself, “I know I look crazy, but, I knew it. I knew my baby was somewhere.” She covered her mouth as she waivered to get her last sentence out, moving to hug Ray again, as he patted her back. Pete moved tissues from the center of the table towards her direction.

She grabbed a tissue and quickly wiped her eyes before then redirecting towards Pete. “And you, I’m so sorry,” Ginny said as she brushed her face with the tissue again and smoothed her skirt down. “You s-saved my son’s life,” Ginny spoke through a choked sob, moving around the table to envelope Peter in a hug.

Although Ray didn’t hear it, Pete got an additional “thank you” from Ginny, whispered close in his ear as she squeezed him tighter just before letting go. She held him by the shoulders and mouthed a “thank you”.

Then, the pot started whistling, and Ginny turned around to move it off the stove and pour through the grounds in the filter.

As she went through the process of making their drinks, Pete felt enough time had gone by since he entered the house for him to say something himself.

“There’s no need to thank me, Mrs. Garraty. I’m happy to have saved Ray, and I would’ve done it again if I got a second wish. I did do it in part for me, too, I’ll say.” Pete said with a smile.

Ginny turned around from the counter. “Peter, you can call me Ginny. I don’t care who you did it for, and there’s no way in hell that it’s selfish. You saved a mother’s son. You saved my baby, Ray. He’s all-“ Ginny sniffed and stifled another sob. “He’s all I have,” she managed to get out with a sad smile.

“You can call me Pete, Ginny. He’s all I have, too.” Pete said with a look to Ray, as he remained puffy-eyed, sitting at the table, watching what felt like two different parts of his life interact. His before world, and his after world. The moment he made eye contact with Pete after he finished talking, Pete turned to face Ginny.

After some coffee and some more explaining of the events between when the broadcast finished and when they arrived, the three sat outside in the Garraty’s backyard, where a tied up hammock and a small metal dining set sat under their trees.

“I know the two of you are probably used to this,” Pete began, “but even after the Long Walk, Maine’s growing on me. I like the trees. and I like the nothing.” Pete chuckled lightly.

“Well, there’s plenty of both of those,” Ginny smiled, placing a hand on Pete’s arm. Pete could feel it already that he was going to have no trouble getting along with Mrs. Ginny Garraty. He didn’t mind the excessive physical contact for today. He could understand she was happy to see her son, and just as happy to meet the man who saved her son, not just at the end, but when she saw them in person, too.

From the last comment Pete made inside, Ginny had already asked Pete a bit about his life. He gave her the run down that he usually gives people. Parents died in the war, uncle a drunk, foster homes, group homes galore. He skipped out on the solo part of his adolescence, not wanting to concern her too much with the details, as he figured in due time Ray would likely tell her some things about him, too.

Pete was confident, comfortable even telling this story, at least to Ginny, who he knew he could trust, and he knew she wouldn’t be the kind of person to press too much, or Ray would stop her, anyway. But, throughout explaining himself, he would catch Ray’s eyes, and silently, Ray would nod, or smile, letting him know it was all alright. Pete swore he could feel his heart expand, or blood rush to it, or something along those lines. He just felt so damn appreciated, listeened to.

As afternoon turned into evening, Ginny went to go inside.

“I’m so sorry boys, I know you’ve been traveling, sick with hospital food… but, I just don’t have much. I’ve been…” Ginny started, beginning to sound frantic.

“Mom, it’s okay. Anything, really, anything is okay. we’ve had worse.” Ray smiled.

“Spam and electrolyte goo worse, to be exact,” Pete chimed in jokingly. But, even the jokes made Ginny tear up. She sniffed and wiped under her eyes with the back of her hand and nodded knowingly.

As she closed the door and began to cook something, the two boys were left out at the table.

“How do you feel now, Ray?” Pete asked quietly, slowly looking up from his hands in his lap to maintain his gaze on Ray and his response.

“I feel…” Ray paused, looking up and the tree leaves above, glimmering green in the late spring sun, blowing softly. “I feel happy. I think. Minus everything else.”

Pete nodded, understanding what he meant. “I do, too. I really do.” Pete paused, the both of them now looking at each other in the peaceful early evening of summer, where time from five to nine seemed to stretch an entirely new day in its own. The sun softer, the air feeling, smelling cleaner. “I mean it though. It is nice here in Maine. You get some woods, some sun, some winter, I’m guessing… beach… somewhere,” Pete and Ray laughed. “I could get used to this.”

“You can, y’know.” Ray smiled. “You should. It is nice here. And I’m not just biased.”

Pete breathed out a short laugh, then turned to the hammock tied between the trees.
“Do you use that at all?” Ray asked.

“Yeah,” Ray nodded, looking down then up towards the hammock. “Yeah, I do sometimes. For reading, most of the time, or sitting there with my mom, or Jan,” Ray finished his sentence gradually more quiet.

Pete ignored the pit in his stomach he was just reminded of, and moved to stand, looking down at the man next to him.

“Can I?” Pete asked. He would anyway, and he was sure Ray would say yes, but he figured he’d be polite on his first day at the Garraty home.

“Go ahead,” Ray said casually, gesturing out to the hammock.

Pete peeled his shoes off and attempted to gracefully ease himself into the hammock, but when that seemed impossible, he essentially sat down in the cloth, then rolled over to become horizontal, dropping flat and swinging with the momentum of his body dropping into the hammock.

Ray slowly moved his way over, standing over the man now relaxing in his position, arms propped behind his head, legs stretched out, eyes closed. The sun hit his body in fragments and geometrics, cutting through the leaves of the trees above.

Propping one eye open to squint, Pete asked, “You coming in Garraty? ‘Cause I’m not so sure this town is big enough for the two of us,” he smiled. He smiled and it looked like a new day, Ray thought.

“No, I’ll just sit here,” Ray replied as he moved to sit at the base of the tree by Pete’s head, slouching into the ground and looking up at the sky.

While they were sitting there, it almost felt like they could forget all that had happened. Disregarding the fact that they met at The Walk, just breathing in the fresh air, letting sore feet not touch the ground, feeling not hungry, not thirsty, not exhausted, it felt like this could be a regular day of a regular person’s life.

Ray began to think of the “what if”, if they met before The Walk. Maybe at school before they got too old, or outside, both coincidentally stopping for the occasional ice cream or order out. Would they have bonded as well? Stayed friends? Liked each other? Ray thought they would’ve gotten on well, maybe working on a project together, then hanging out after. Maybe they could’ve been neighbors.

Through his thoughts, Ray felt eyes on him and looked to see Pete flipped over, head resting on his forearms as they were crossed in front of him, his head slightly leaning off the hammock itself.

“Good Christ Garraty, I can hear you thinking, you’re thinking so hard,” Pete teased at Ray as he moved his gaze from above to face Pete hanging slightly above him.

“Nah-ah,” Ray smiled as the sun caught in his eyes, forcing him to half squint, and half see Pete.

“Nah-ah? Two can play at that game. Ah-huh Ray, what’cha thinking about?” Pete pried.

Figuring he may as well share his thoughts out loud and hell, better to have this conversation sober now, rather than half drunk on moonshine later.

“Ahh,” Ray started, his face still furrowed and squinting, with a sort of smile peering through. “I was thinking if today were a normal day, and we were normal guys, if we would’ve been friends, y’know, outside, from something else.” Ray finished. He surprisingly felt calm transferring his thoughts from circling his brain to plainly said in person.

“That’s a good question Garraty, can’t say I’ve really thought about that…” Pete begins, leaning side to side on his arms to still get a small swing out of the hammock (if he were honest, it was the first time he’d been in one). “I’d like to say that, of course, without the Walk, we wouldn’t have met, being in different states, but, if we lived near eachother, met by something else.. I’d say we still would have been like this. I hope so. ‘Cause knowing you, Ray, it’s just so easy.”

Ray felt his face flush and hoped Pete would figure it was the sun beating on parts of his face. He didn’t know which way Pete meant that. Or which way he’d prefer. On the one hand, he could mean knowing Ray, as in Ray made it easy, would make it easy, or that knowing Ray at all, getting to know him, was something, on the other hand, that came easy to Pete himself. Or maybe there was no difference at all, and he was thinking about it all too much.

“Thanks, Pete. Thanks. I can say the same for you. I’ve never really had a friend like you before. The past two weeks we’ve known each other have felt like the longest friendship of my life.”

“Walking for half of it, then being out of it for a quarter of it will do that to you,” Pete smirked. “But same.”

“To which, the long weeks or never having a friend.. like me?”

“Both. Probably. Which might surprise you.”

“It does. I don’t see how anyone could meet you and not want to know you, y’know? But on that, maybe I am biased.”

Pete flipped back over on his back, staring up again. He could feel himself blush and swiftly moved. The fact that Ray practically repeated his own words, unknowingly, back to him…

“Mmm, I don’t think you’re biased. I can see why someone would love me, too,” Pete retorted, closing his eyes and smiling.

Ray could hear the smile in his voice, his ego fully present, but he allowed him to indulge. “Hey, I never said love,” Ray laughed.

Pete’s breath caught in his throat before he could even quip a smart ass reply, because he has said it before. He had him right there.

“Oh, not too quick Ray, yes you did!” Pete played it off, waving his finger in the air again.

“Oh, really? When?” Ray challenged him.

But Pete paused. Not sure if encroaching on this territory would stop their conversation in its tracks, lingering too much on the mention of it at all, or if it would bend to something better. “On the last night of the walk. Right before I thought I lost you. Do you remember?”

“I do.” Ray said.

Despite the heat dropping as night approached, the air felt thick and sticky, like it was too cloudy to get fresh air, to think straight.

“You do.” Pete repeated.

The back door swung open as Ginny stepped out to yell dinner to the boys, seemingly having a normal conversation. Was it a normal conversation? Ray thought. Was it a normal conversation? Pete questioned himself.

Both boys got to their feet and walked inside. Suddenly, something felt like it had changed. Pete just hoped it wasn’t for the worst.

Chapter Text

As they both sat down in the same seats as earlier, Ray at the back end of the table, with Pete and Ginny on the sides, Ginny had prepared some fish with vegetables.

“I’m sorry it’s not a lot, boys, I just used up the rest of the fish we still had and threw whatever vegetables I could find to cook with it.” Ginny justified herself.

“No-“ both Ray and Pete started at the same time, with Pete gesturing to Ray to finish his sentence first.

“No, Mom, it’s perfect. Any food is good, really, and I’m good with anything you make, and being home with you.”

“Agreed, Ginny, it’s great.” Pete said as he raised his fork with a piece of fish on it.

She looked from Ray to Pete, then back to Ray. “Good. I’m glad. I’m so happy you’re both here, and okay, my boys.” She smiled.

My boys. Pete’s heart swelled for a second time that day. He had never been anyone’s anything, or at least, not that he could even really remember well. He looked to Ray who had a polite smile on his face. Hopefully, whatever he had felt outside was just a moment.

When finished, Ginny tried to put up a good fight to wash the dishes, not wanting the boys to stand on their feet, but after too much protest for that late in the evening, she permitted them to wash and dry the dishes, with Ray washing and Pete drying for Ray to put them back so Pete could see where everything went. “Get comfortable,” Ginny had said.

They began to wash the dishes in silence as Ginny got ready for bed. She wanted to spend every moment with her son, not unreasonably, but Ray encouraged her to shower and get into her pajamas, too. It had been a long day, and they were all going to likely sleep long and deep.

When Ray finished up the last of the dishes while Pete still had some remaining to dry, Pete pressed his palms to the counter in front of the sink and leaned forward. Pete tried not to seem too involved, but he wanted to ensure he was okay.

“Hey, Ray, you okay?” Pete asked quietly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Ray responded, squeezing his eyes shut in a sort of momentary stretch, only to open and turn around, leaning his back on the sink, crossing his arms looking at Pete.

“Are you okay?” Ray asked. He felt as though Pete was always beating him to the punch of checking in on each other. Pete made him want to be better.

“Yeah,” Pete answered. “There’s no reason for me not to be. You’re here, your mom is sweet as anything, I’ve got a roof over my head, which is more than I’ve had some days… and I’ve got enough money to last me ’til forever.”

“That, you definitely do,” Ray said with some sadness in his voice, thinking of how this may be the first time Pete really gets fully immersed in a family, and gets to be stable. It made him just want to reach out to the boy next to him. Ray’s eyes lingered on Pete as Pete returned his gaze, expecting Ray to say more.

What happened, instead, was that Pete placed down his last dish. Having stacked everything, with the dishes only needing to be placed back in their appropriate spot, Ray continued to look at Pete. Pete, still staring as well, began to feel everything else stop. The humming of the fridge having gone silent, birds chirping in the night silent, the light bulb buzzing, not screwed in all the way, silent. A smile began to creep up on his face, as he couldn’t help it during this staring contest they had going on. Pete looked to Ray’s lips, only for a moment, before looking back at his soft brown eyes, which now had a look of nervousness to them.

As Ginny came back down the stairs, Ray moved to grab the dishes and start placing them away. At least Pete could continue to stare at Ray, he figured.

Unexpectedly, Ginny pulled out a pack of cigarettes, her hair up in a clip and wearing a cotton night dress. Ray turned around, having finished putting away dishes quickly.

“Mom?” Ray asked with a laugh.

“Well, I figured since you boys survived the walk, there wouldn’t be too much harm in offering you guys a cigarette, if you both would like to sit on the porch.”

“Absolutely, Ginny.” Pete smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Fine, sure,” Ray shook his head, following his mom and Pete out to the front.

His mom passed him a cigarette, and it was the single most weird experience he had ever had, he thought. But, he passed one along to Pete, who he raised an eyebrow towards, not expecting him to try smoking again. Pete subtly winked as Ginny then tapped Ray, passing him matches. Ray struck a match and lit his own, moving to go wave the match out when Pete leaned down and snuck his cigarette, hanging out of his mouth with his fingers only keeping a loose grip on them, to light his with Ray’s match. Pete smiled around his cigarette and breathed in as Ray actually put out his match, now able to put his cigarette to his lips.

Despite his previous experience, Pete looked comfortable in the action, and Ray wondered if the Walk really was his first time trying a cigarette.

Ray, on the other hand, tried to keep cool. He had smoked cigarettes at times with friends here and there while he was still in school, trying to seem “cool”, but Jan didn’t like them, and he respected her wishes. He knew his mom smoked from time to time, but smoking on the porch, casually with her, felt otherworldly, he thought.

Ray’s mom stubbed the end of her cigarette in the ashtray placed on top of the table beside the chair, and moved her hand to the back of Ray’s neck.

“Someone needs a haircut, Ray,” his mom smiled at him, moving from flipping around the ends of his hair to rubbing his shoulder.

He put his free hand over his mom’s and coughed into his free arm—partly from the cigarette, partly to hide his embarrassment from his mom’s affection.

“I know, mom, Pete was saying that the other day. You can cut it sometime this week.” He said.

Pete looked on at the mother and son interacting as he smoked the last of his cigarette. Watching Ginny dote over her boy, figuring a time she can cut his hair, then take him out to here or there, then tend the garden, or get him out to fish. It was sweet.

“Well, I’m going to head inside. I love you Ray,” she kissed him on the cheek and stood up, him following her to hug her comfortably. She put her hand to his face and looked at him like she wouldn’t see him again one more time, then moved to Pete, which caught him by surprise, providing a great scene for Ray, who figured Pete never got shocked by anything.

Ginny squeezed Pete’s shoulder in what looked like would be a quick goodbye, but shortly turned otherwise as tears welled in her eyes and she brought Pete in for a hug, muttering “thank you’s” all over again. As she moved into the door way she turned around again.

“I love you boys, goodnight.”

The door closed gently behind her. Ray moved to sit back down, with Pete taking this as his opportunity to put out his cigarette in the ashtray and sit down in the empty space beside Ray.

Pete took a deep sigh as Ray sat next to him, still. He held his cigarette in his hand as it nearly burnt to the end. As Pete stared at it, it seemed Ray realized and leaned over Pete to put it out. The two continued in comfortable silence, sitting there in the night as cicadas poured in and fireflies began to appear in the empty field across from Pete’s home.

“Your mom, she really is something. In the best way, I mean,” Pete said.

“She is. She’s the best. I’ve been telling people that since as long as I can remember. I’m really lucky,” Ray said.

“I can see how you get some things from her.” Pete said firmly, like it was a well-known fact.

Ray turned to Pete beside him, leaning back slightly with his right arm on the edge of the chair. “Yeah? How so? I do think we have our similarities but, I don’t know…I’d like to hear how other people see it.”

“Yeah. Well, she seems to instantly accept what people tell her—not in a bad way, Ray. Just that, she’s a real believer. Believer in other people. I think you doubt that sometimes, like you did before. But you and her, you both want to believe everyone, be on their side. It’s nice. I’m used to picking a side, picking a fight, and hoping we win. But you and her, it’s like you don’t have sides. Like you want to see the good in everyone, so you believe everyone, and hope you don’t have to go against them.” Pete rattled on, hoping he made his point clear.

“I think… I think I see what you mean. That sounds like you, though. You see the good in things, the good in doing things for a bigger purpose, I- I don’t have that. You know why.” Ray suddenly began to shy away, looking to the right down their street as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

“Do you want to know what my dream is every night?” Pete asked. They both knew the other had bad dreams, terrors, but, for the most part, they didn’t go into too many details. They would say if it were good or bad, who was in it, and maybe that was it. That is, because even the good dreams got you. Dreams of days with Art and Olson, the pavement stretched out for eternity. Sitting down. Seeing Clementine. Seeing Art smoke those cigarettes he enjoyed. Go out together. Even the good dreams were nightmares.

Ray slowly turned over to Pete. “Only if you’re okay with me knowing it.” He said firmly, looking to Pete.

“I’m okay.” Pete said.

Ray nodded absent-mindedly, like he was already preparing how to respond, when he then leaned back, his face as close as it could be to Pete from where they were sitting, without either of them leaning towards one another.

“Every night, or, most nights, I dream this, this terrible, awful dream. And I hate myself in it. But even worse. I’m also proud in it, too.” Pete started as Ray was already nodding along, like he already understood.

“It’s- we’re at the end, Ray, and they’ve got you down, really down, like they did, and then they move to ask me my wish, except I don’t wish to save you. I wish for the carbine.”

Ray nods sympathetically. He does understand where this is going.

“And, I kill him. But the second I do, I realize I still don’t have you. It doesn’t bring you back. It doesn’t bring your dad back. It- Nothing changes, you’re gone, and I’m just a killer.”

“Then, I walk away, and I just keep walking. I see a shadow up ahead, and I just keep walking. I don’t even know what it is, or who it is, and I’m going after it anyway. When you, the real you. You’re behind me. And,” Pete swallows hard. Taking a breath before his voice waivers. The thing about dreams is they feel real, up til the very last second, just before you realize it’s a dream. The emotions you feel in the dream, they’re real, and they stay.

“And you’re still dead. I just can’t fathom the fact that even in the dream where I kill him, you’re dead. It’s not fair, and it doesn’t feel good, either,” Pete says, looking down.

Ray slowly moves his arm to rest around Pete’s shoulders, and he squeezes his shoulder just as Pete did his earlier.

Pete looks up to Ray and suddenly the house goes away for the both of them. They’re on the walk again. Hair slicked and sweat-covered, they’re the only ones, or the only ones that matter, what’s the difference.

“The thing is, Pete, it’s just a dream. I’m here. I’m alive. You’re here, you’re alive.” Ray gestures around them, “We’re in this moment. And I was right. You can see it.”

“But I can’t say I’m fully against the dream. Oh, man, if I could, I’d fuckin’ kill the Major.”

“Me too. In a heartbeat, Pete, and you know it. But you see that it’s wrong. I’m not sure if I’d be able to. I can tell you here, now, that it sounds wrong—no one coming back even after he’s dead. But I can’t say that if I did it. I’d regret it. You can. You see it, Pete. You see the big picture, the reason for it all. More than me. More than I ever could.”

Pete kept his eyes on Ray while Ray spoke, looking mostly ahead, occasionally fixing his eye contact on Pete.

“And?”

“And what? You’re not a bad person, Pete. Shit, you’re the only reason I’m here now, maybe the only person that would even-“ Ray began.

“No, Ray. And is that why you do?” Pete said, looking straight into Ray’s eyes the entire time he spoke.

Ray received the message instantly, and before he could help it, he was nodding.

Pete nodded along with him, smiling.

Ray, suddenly nervous, looked at Pete’s calm face of happiness, relief. “And you?”

“And me? You know you have to say it Garraty, I can’t keep putting it all together for you.” Pete laughed again, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his right hand in a fist under his chin as he turned to still look at Ray. All the while Ray’s arm was still draped around him, now closer to resting on the small of his back than anything else.

“Do you love me?” Ray hesitated, looking at Pete like he was something that could hurt, or something that could heal.

“Do you remember what I said earlier?”

“If you’re saying this just to sidetrack, I’m not letting y-“

“I’m not you, Garraty, there’s a point to this. You remember? About knowing you?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Ray affirmed as he felt what seemed to be all the heat in his body go to his face, while simultaneously feeling like his breath was knocked out of him.

“I meant that. Knowing you is easy. But, so is loving you. I think I have from the second we met, Garraty. I knew we’d be together.” Pete continued, traversing uncharted territory now, even for himself. Sure. Had he known he was queer, of any sorts, all sorts? Yes. Had he been with other guys? Sure. But feelings, dating, actually being together—was always out of reach. Not possible. Pete was comfortable, and confident, but not brave, not always. “I knew once we walked onto that pavement, we were brothers.”

The heat that seemed to fill the space between them all at once left the room, the world, everything outside. In one way, the tension disappearing made it easier. But on the other hand, it made it easier. Everything that’s real was always harder.

“Yeah.” Ray nodded, looking ahead. “I felt the same way, too.”

So, Ray thought. He loved Pete, this was known. Pete loved him, this was now known. And they were.. they were friends. They were like brothers. Like war buddies, as so many adults had after the war. That’s what they were.

Pete felt his nerves ease, but his heart kicked himself. Fuck. Normally, whether it was real or imagined anymore, he had more courage, more gall. But it seems it all drained out of him now that they were off the pavement. Off the Long Walk they walked together, he and Pete. After all, yes, Pete did save him, in a way; but to save him, borderline selfishly, then immediately confess to him, love him, be together. It was too much at once. As far as they were away now, all he wanted was to feel how they felt on that Walk, like time was frozen and they were in the stars together. But Pete isn’t sure if they can ever have that. Seriously, for real, have that. So he’ll wait. He’ll have to wait.

Chapter Text

With the chill of the night setting in, Ray and Pete moved inside after a moment of comfortable silence as they both looked out onto the fields in front of them.

The two headed inside, with Pete following Ray through the home as he had still yet to see the room he would be staying in.

At the top of the stairs, Ray showed Pete the bathroom which was in the middle of two bedrooms, with Ginny’s to the right of the hall and Ray’s to the left, as Pete continued to trail behind Ray.

“So… here it is… sorry it’s a mess. Before The Walk I was going crazy looking for things and double checking what I had,” Ray said.

“Couldn’t leave without the baseball, of course,” Pete smiled, standing in the doorway to take a look at the room as Ray began to pick up and move clothes from one side of the room to the other.

Looking at the room, Ray’s bed was in the corner, squeezed in right below a window that looked to be propped open with a book. The sheets where blue and white striped and the room, generally smelled stale from days of heat sinking in and leaving the room as it remained untouched.

Beside the bed in the right corner of the room a short brown dresser stood, missing some knobs and looking like it had seen better days, with wood chipping along the edges and ring and paint stains on the surface. Besides the obvious signs of the dresser’s wear, photo frames sat propped on the dresser, with a bookshelf above it housing more.

Little league trophies, a high school graduation diploma, as well as some physical media laid on the shelves with a sheer coating of dust.

To the left of the door, however, was where Pete was interested. A similarly worn brown desk sat a few feet in front of the end of the bed where it looked like Ray’s own thoughts laid open.

Cassettes, CDs, and an old AM/FM radio were strewn across the desk in no organized fashion, sat atop sheets of paper that ranged anywhere from mail warnings of various things being owed, the Long Walk pamphlets, as well as an open journal. Above the desk were scraps of polaroid photos, few movie tickets, and a poster that looked to be from the last years of the war—a photo of a a war machine ahead of tens of soldiers on a dirt road shot from behind, with a photo of the Major in the background, looking to be in the sky, with text across the photo reading “YOU CAN HELP YOUR COUNTRY”.

Pete scoffed looking from the uncharacteristic poster to Ray. Pointing at the poster, Pete asked, “You put this one up yourself?”

“Oh, yeah.. my dad gave it to me when I was young, kind of as something cool to have from the war. He, of course, didn’t believe in it. But you know, we can’t really throw out a photo of the Major without any worries that…” Ray trailed off, taking a moment from putting clothes away to stand with his hands on his hips as he tried to explain the poster.

“I get it. Don’t have to get into it.” Pete reassured.

“I know how it looks, now that he’s gone. But looking at it, everyday, it gave me a reason to keep going. Even if it was a bad reason. I was angry.”

“I think we’re both entitled to at least some anger towards the Major,” Pete half-joked in an attempt to steer the conversation away from Ray’s grief, at least for the time being.

“Yeah, well.. you can look around. I’ve got some books you’ll probably get through faster than I could, and some music, some legal… others.. not so much,” Ray smiled, now tapping on some of the cassettes laid about on his desk. “Can’t say I have much for poetry, though.”

“Here I thought I would have converted you into some sort of poet by the end of The Walk, Garraty,” Pete said.

“I like yours, what you’ve said but me-no I’m not like that, I couldn’t think of stuff like that.”

“Don’t you think you could? I think you could. Everyone’s a poet, Ray, everything is poetry. We’ll have to find some books, if we still can.”

“Mmhm,” Ray hummed before covering his mouth with his hand as a yawn spread across his face, stretching his shoulders as it came over him.

Pete continued to look at the desk, flipping cassettes over to read what was stored on them, mainly old folk music and some national anthems, occasionally looking up to the polaroids, mainly featuring Ray and Jan together, or Ray alongside his family.

“Oh- I’m sorry your clothes.” Ray stumbled over to the dresser, sifting through shirts and shorts in the drawers until he pulled one of each out. “Here’s an older shirt and pair of shorts, they should fit a bit better than some of my newer stuff.”

“Thanks, Ray,” Pete said, grabbing the folded articles from Ray’s hands.

They both stood there awkwardly for a moment, both wondering where they would change, or what was next.

They both already changed in front of each other basically in the hospital, Ray thought. Why were they having such a problem?

“Oh and, uh, for toothbrushes, did you bring yours from the hospital or.. ‘cause I have mine here, obviously, but,” Ray began.

“Yeah, I’ve got mine, I figured you’d probably have one at home yourself.”

“Okay, okay, good.” Ray hesitated, the two standing only a foot apart, unmoving.

Pete turned and placed the clothes on the edge of the desk, pulling off his shirt from the bottom hem, placing it on the desk beside the clean clothes, quickly yanking the new shirt on.

Ray watched as Pete began to undress, looking in turns from the door, to Pete, to his bed, wondering where he should look, until he remembered he could brush his teeth, that way when Pete finished changing, Ray could come back into the room himself to change, hopefully less awkwardly.

“‘M going to brush my teeth. I’ll be in the bathroom,” Ray said as Pete began to pull off his boots to take his pants off. Pete murmured a sound in the affirmative as Ray left the room.

In the bathroom, as Ray brushed his teeth he began to think of the sleeping situation again. In only minutes time he’s going to be in the same bed as Pete, at least he assumes. Why are you even stressing? Pete’s your best friend. Ray thought to comfort himself. He physically shook his head while brushing as if that would send away his thoughts.

As he tried to calm his thoughts, Pete entered the bathroom looking like he just woke up.

“Man, I thought those boots melded into my feet.” Pete said as he put tooth paste on his toothbrush. “If I ever have to put those on again it’ll be too soon, compadre.”

Ray huffed a laugh as he went to spit out into the sink. “Same here. If we go anywhere I’m finding some other shoes. Or just wrapping my feet up, maybe,” Ray said, looking to see Pete’s smile before turning to go back to his room, hoping he could quickly undress.

Just as Ray put on his pants, Pete reentered the room, smiling at Ray as he tried to appear as if he didn’t just race to get his clothes on.

Pete instantly moved towards the bed and laid flat across it, putting his arms behind his head.

“Getting cozy already, McVries?” Ray laughed.

“Hell yes, Garraty. I know it’s yours, but I’m making myself right at home.” Pete said as he closed his eyes.

“Yeah alright, now move over. And I need the blanket so you have to sit up or get under.”

“Goddamn, sir yes sir, Ray,” Pete said as he moved under the comforter, shifting closer to the wall.

Ray sat on the bed and lifted up the comforter to swing the lower half of his body under, moving onto his side as he settled in.

“Goodnight, Ray. And thank you.” Pete said, looking over at the back of Ray as he laid up.

“G’night, Pete. Don’t thank me.” Ray said, looking straight ahead at the wall across from him.

Pete’s eyes lingered on the form in front of him, watching as Ray’s breathing became slower and deeper. His hands, closed together on top of his stomach, looked eerily close to Ray’s form. Pete thought of moving his left hand to touch him. To feel his shoulder as it moved his hand up and down. To rest on his back as it pooled heat. Pete closed his eyes and hoped for a dreamless sleep.

When they woke up, Pete had turned on his side, now facing the same direction as Ray, practically up against him. One way or another he got what he wished for, and woke up sticky with sweat from the early morning sun coming in through the window, the comforter, and the body heat of his own and the man next to him.

Pete watched Ray’s back for a moment, checking to see if he were awake. He decided he might as well wake him in order to get out of bed, but not before he watched him get another moment of sleep.

But before Pete could move, Ray started squirming, twitching more than he had in his previous state.

He began to make low, short groaning noises. His head shaking “no” and legs shifting under the covers.

“Get up,” he began muttering. “Get… up,” he whispered.

Once Pete realized what he was watching, he moved to wake the man next to him.

Slightly nudging his shoulder, Pete tried to stir Ray. “Ray, Ray.. you’re home, wake up now.”

Ray woke rather subtly, blinking his eyes as he contorted his face to adjust to the sun in the room, only to slowly turn to look behind him, moving his whole body flat to face Pete once he realized the setting.

“Hey.. ‘m sorry, I was having a dream,” Ray began, his voice not matching the nonchalance of his words. He sounded out of breath, with his voice simultaneously filled with sleep, gravely.

“It’s okay Ray,” Pete said as he placed a hand on his shoulder. “Who was it?” He dared to ask, pausing after he finished his sentence to see how Ray would take it.

“Curley. Yeah, it was right after I soothed his charley horse,” Ray said, rubbing his right hand up and down his face. Pete could see the weariness on his face as he tried to address the dream casually.

Pete took the same approach to talk it through with Ray, picking up how he was feeling. “I see. I got lucky, dreamless sleep. For maybe the second time since The Walk.”

“That’s good. I’m gonna shower, I’m sweating,” Ray said, getting out of the bed and grabbing clothes from the dresser.

“You think you’re sweaty? You’re like a radiator on top of my own body heat,” Pete smirked.

“I know, sorry, do you want to shower first?”

“No, no, you go ahead. I might just look around, or enjoy the breeze comin’ in,” Pete said looking towards the window.

“Okay, don’t say I didn’t offer,” Ray said jokingly as he walked out of the room.

Pete sunk back into the bed, leaning his head back. Sleep seemed to overcome him once again, despite the sun, and Pete welcomed it, closing his eyes..

He opened them what felt like hours later, looking up to immediately see Ray in a towel in his periphery.

Holding a hand up to his eyes to shield himself from the sun while also giving Ray some privacy, Pete briefly whistles before cracking a smile.

“Well this is something to wake back up to,” Pete says.

“Cut it out McVries I forgot underwear,” Ray defended himself as he grabbed a pair of underwear from his dresser drawer, turning away slightly at a measly attempt to hide his blush.

“Hey, that’s fine by me, I’ll just be sitting here,” Pete said with his smile expanding throughout the sentence.

“Okay, ok, enjoy the show, I’m going back to the bathroom to change.” Ray said as he turned back to walk to the bathroom, holding his boxers in one hand while keeping his towel up with the other.

“Alright, Ray,” Pete laughed.

When Ray returned, fully clothed, he showed Pete where the towels were and showed him which side was cold and hot for the shower.

“Finally, a shower that doesn’t feature a Nurse trying to check on you,” Pete joked as Ray chortled in agreement.

As Pete got himself situated in the shower, Ray left him to his own devices, having already directed him to what clothes he could probably fit into in his wardrobe.

Ray, slowly, eased himself down the stairs, thinking of scooting himself down seated on the stairs halfway through, but instead managing by practically holding himself up on the railing.

Upon making it to the bottom of the step, Ray turned around and could peek his mom making pancakes for the house. Ray limped up beside her to give his mom a sort of sideways hug as she whisked the mix together.

“Oh good morning my baby,” Ginny smiled as she stopped mixing to fully hug her son. “I made some pancakes, with your favorite, chocolate chips.”

“Thanks, mom.” Ray pointed upstairs with his finger, “Pete’s awake, I showed him the shower.”

“That’s good, we’ll have to find some clothes for him to set aside so you two boys don’t have to keep sharing everything,” Ginny suggested, turning her back to Ray to start dripping mix onto the pan.

“It’s okay, I found him some clothes… I figured.. he could wear some things of Dad’s?” Ray started hesitantly, not sure how his mother would respond.

With a slow nod and a hum, Ginny replied, “I think that’d be best. I haven’t..” Ray could hear her sniff, then take a deep breath. “Moved anything, or touched it. Pete would be putting it to good use.”

“Yeah, I think so.” Ray responded lukewarmly, not wanting to get too much into dad-talk, while also trying not to picture Pete in all of his dad’s clothes.

Ginny tapped her spoon to the pan, making another pancake, then turned around to Ray with an almost bashful grin on her face.

“I thought I should let you know before you get surprised… I invited Jan over this morning. I know you’re probably already overwhelmed coming home baby…but Ray, she kept me company while you were…” Ginny’s voice faltered. “We were both worried sick about you, and had no idea what had happened to you. I thought it was best to let her know sooner rather than later. She doesn’t have to stay all day, but I know she would like to see you, Ray.”

Ray sat at the kitchen table with a blank look on his face. Not wanting to upset his mother, but also not wanting to think too deeply into his anxiety upon hearing Jan’s name, Ray rushed a response. “Yeah, yeah. That’s good. That makes sense. I didn’t know that you and her, she-.. but that makes sense. It’s okay, Ma.” Ray spoke jittery, adding a smile at the end. “I’ll see her, of course.”

Ginny’s nervous smile transformed into an earnest one as she said “Good, she should be here soon for breakfast,” and continued to make food.

Soon enough, as Ginny plated and placed a heaping serving of pancakes on the table, there was a knock at the screen door, where Ray could already see half of Jan standing behind the door.

Ginny went to get the door, smiling to Ray as she turned out of the kitchen.

“Hi Mrs. Garraty, thank you for having me over for breakfast, I rushed to get over here as soon as you said his name on the phone.”

“Of course Jan of course, he’s right over here in the kitchen” Ginny said, as she continued to mutter more under her breath so only Jan could hear. Ray figured it must have been about his fragile state, or not to ask too many questions yet.

Jan slowly followed Ginny through the door to the kitchen. As soon as Jan saw Ray she rapidly stepped towards Ray, throwing both her arms around his shoulders, only uttering his name.

“It’s me,” Ray laughed. “I made it.”

“Oh god,” Jan half laughed and half cried. “I’m going to be sick. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Jan said, holding him by the shoulders to look at Ray, only to envelope him in a hug once again.

Ray smiled and returned her hug, comfortable. Jan was practically his best friend before The Walk, so it made sense she would still care for him, as he did for her, Ray thought. Though, he wondered, amongst all the thoughts running through his head, if his return meant they were basically back together.

As Jan released him and pulled out a chair for herself on the side of the table, closest to Ray seated at the head of the table, faint footsteps came from the stairs as Pete, freshly showered, came down the stairs in one of Ray’s old ringer shirts and a pair of belted, worn out jeans. With the sun coming into the kitchen from the sink window and front door behind Pete, beads of water could be seen in Pete’s hair and as drops fell down his face.

Jan and Ray both looked ahead towards Pete, now coming into the kitchen.

“So Jan, this is Pete,” Jan nodded, having watched the broadcast. “He saved my life.” Ray smiled, as he looked from Jan to Pete.

Pete, trying to not let his face reveal all of the thoughts that ran through his mind, stared at the two seated at the table for a moment, before a smile flickered across his face, and he caught Ray’s eyes.

Chapter Text

Pete sat at the kitchen table as an observer for some time before he broke into the conversation. For one, he had to eat, and then give many compliments to the chef, Ginny. For two, he had the chance to watch Ray interact with the much discussed “girl back home”, and wanted to let them catch up.

Pete had to give it to Jan, she seemed to know Ray good enough to know how to ask questions without having Ray beat around the bush, but still not come off as pushy. She really was a nice girl, which is to say she was pretty much just nice to Pete, who himself could not conceive of being attracted to the woman, or any woman, for that matter. In addition, he could hardly conceive of trying to do anything more than just be polite to the woman who had Ray. But, the part of him that wanted to get along with her, be friendly in front of Ray, and simply just smile and be his normal self throughout their conversation won out.

Jan had ran through all of the hospital basics at that point: what medicines, what treatments, what still hurts, what is still getting better. Ray answered her with some laughs and gentleness, making light of the situation. Pete felt his face grow hot as Jan asked for permission to lift Ray’s shirt and examine his wounds, then watched as Ray quickly pushed the shirt back down, not allowing for too close examination, and partly feeling Pete’s stare.

No one would be able to tell who he’s blushing at, Ray thought.

Of course, Jan skipped over most of the walk. After all, she had watched most of it, and being a witness to 48 murders wasn’t exactly the ideal breakfast table conversation, everyone figured.

After all, Jan felt helpless. What could she even do. When her and Ray got their time alone again (which she presumed would come soon), she wanted him to talk to her about it first, or she could gently ask him in private for starters. She knew he would never be exactly the same Ray again. After all, he was a package deal now, Jan thought.

She had sobbed at least three times in between attempts at getting ready to rush over to the Garraty house that morning, and thanked God relentlessly, slightly pinching herself as she hugged Ray, for his safe return. This return, of course, was by the hands of his new friend, Pete, to whom she owed all her gratitude, even if it meant Ray was a package deal. But she couldn’t help but worry she would now be second place. After all, who understands you more than someone who was there for what he had to endure, Jan felt. Above from Pete and herself, though, Jan knew she had to put Ray first, and concerns about them second.

And Jan knew, already, that if she wanted to remain good with Ray, she would have to get on good terms with Pete, too.

“And how have you been feeling, our hero?” Jan smiled, repositioning herself in the chair to look towards Pete.

Pete, finishing his pancakes as he listened to their conversation, paused slightly. He hadn’t expected for Jan to start conversation first. He now had a feeling that she was the bold type (which he hadn’t expected of Ray’s “girl”). He paused, but you couldn’t tell outwardly. Pete smiled as he chewed his food, swallowing to answer.

“I’m as good as ever,” Pete smiled.

“Really? This soon?” Jan asked incredulously.

“No, I feel like my feet are a separate entity from my body and they’ve been hit by a car. Ten cars.” Pete laughed. “No, I feel like shit. Sure am good at not looking it, though, I hope,” Pete teased as everyone laughed.

“Language, Pete,” Ginny chastised Pete good-heartedly, finishing up the dishes.

“Sorry,” Pete said, looking past Jan to Ginny at the sink, only to crack a smile once again as he looked back to Ray and Jan.

“Really, though, my feet and my knees hurt all day. Back at night and morning. It could be worse, though. Could have two bullet wounds,” Pete nodded towards Ray, whom laughed, shaking his head.

Jan smiled politely but didn’t feel capable to laugh or joke about The Walk yet. She felt she never would. That was the difference between her and Pete.

Though Jan nodded understandingly as Pete discussed his aches, when he imagined they would be better by, and what he felt would never be the same.

“And the…” Jan started as Pete finished discussing his recovery and his getting used to Maine.

“It’s okay, you can ask. The prize. The money. Well… I don’t know what I’ll do yet. Of course, I’ll try and put it in a bank, or multiple. I’ll give some to people, too. Find a place to live, eventually—I’m not in any rush here, Ginny,” Pete said as Ginny looked as though she was about to lecture Pete on how welcome he was.

“And what do you want to do, money included, or not?” Jan asked. She was sweet, Pete decided. Maybe more than nice. She asked good questions, and seemed to genuinely care about Pete, not just asking questions out of politeness or appreciation.

“Mm, good question,” Pete said as he finished off his orange juice. “I’d like to have a home, as I said. Probably stay around here. Then I’ve got to get to Clementine, and Baker’s family.” Pete finished more quietly, with a deadly sincere look of determination his face.

Although Ray knew they would give money to their families and return Art’s rosary, Ray hadn’t thought of how they would do that yet. Pete’s mention of this took Ray by surprise.

“When did you plan this?” Ray asked, staring at Pete. Jan looked between the two boys.

“No, Ray, I don’t have a plan, not yet. But i figured I may as well get it done sooner rather than later. I can’t imagine them waiting any longer,” Pete said, looking as though he were thinking of something.

“Well, I’m going with you,” Ray said defensively.

“I didn’t think you wouldn’t.”

Ginny chided into the conversation. “Not until you’re fully healed Raymond Garraty, not over my dead body.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of leaving any earlier, Ginny. I figured since the two of us are the only… it would make sense if both of us went, whenever that will be in the future,” Pete reassured, to which Ginny nodded with her arms crossed against her chest, looking to Ray to ensure he understood.

Ray lazily shook his head to Ginny, showing he understood well.

Jan, all the while, sat there smiling nervously, thinking of Ray leaving again, be it soon or not so soon. She wanted to reach out to touch his hand resting on the table, or move her chair closer to his. But both felt wrong to do, apart from their previous “break up”.

The three continued to wash their plates (after insisting to Ginny). Ginny went to go grocery shopping, and seeing that Ray and Jan should have some alone time, Pete went upstairs to lay down, or read a book, while Jan and Ray sat in the Garraty backyard at the table.

Jan continued to make casual conversation, catching Ray up on her own family, who wished him well and told Jan they would be dropping off food for the family soon. Jan discussed her job she had working at the library in town, which housed more propaganda than books, and more town meetings than any book clubs or readers. She tried to sound relaxed, as if their conversation was a typical catch-up, but Jan noticed Ray looking out into the trees, distracted.

Jan cut herself off from talking further about the most recent children’s day at the library. “How are you doing Ray. Really?”

Slowly looking back at Jan so as to not reveal his sudden attention being drawn, Ray replied. “I don’t know. I’m okay. I’m okay. I feel better than the day before, most days, which I think is good. But the dreams… the-the guilt… it kills me Jan. It kills me.” Ray said looking down, only meeting Jan’s face after he spoke.

Jan’s heart broke for Ray. She had already felt spent after so much time trying to get Ray to feel better after his dad, and now this. Tears welled up in her eyes as Ray continued.

“And the dreams, that’s probably the worst it gets. I see all of them. Maybe not every night, but I’ve seen them all in my dreams, even the ones I didn’t speak to, even the ones I didn’t care for,” Ray says, thinking of the other men’s faces flashing in his mind, thinking of Barkovitch and his fucked up antics.

Jan nodded, wanting to listen first as long as Ray was comfortable speaking.

“And noises. Noises get me now. I listen to the trees and it calms me, but then I start to shake. I hear doors close or car doors somewhere, or even cars driving by, Christ’s sake, and they all get me.” Ray said sadly, looking back to the trees.

“But y’know. I’m alive. And I’m grateful. I’m so grateful. But a part of me thinks I’ll never get back the.. just the second of relief I felt in the moment they held the carbine to my head,” Ray finished.

Jan tried to hold back her tears, unsuccessfully. She swiped underneath her eyes with her hands, then raised her arm to cover her eyes with her forearm momentarily.

“I’m sorry, I promised myself—I did—not to cry. Because I hear you Ray. But I do hear you, and it breaks my heart.” Jan’s voice cracked as she said heart, sniffling before she continued. “I’m so sorry, Ray. You don’t deserve this. No one deserves any of this-“ she gestured around them. “And I do hope you talking about it helps, but I want to just be able to hug, or I’m sorry-to kiss you, and fix it all. And I know I can’t,” Jan covered her mouth as she began to cry.

Ray pulled one of her hands down from her face into his hand, looking at her in sympathy.

“I know. I don’t think this kinda thing can be fixed, Jan,” Ray said gently, looking into Jan’s eyes as he began to tear up, too, bringing his free hand to his face to wipe his eyes before tears fell.

“I know,” Jan sobbed, squeezing his hand tighter in hers.

“And,” Ray began. “I know how you feel, because I feel the same way looking at Pete.” He paused. “I know I sound crazy, and we only knew each other for five days during the walk, but from then to now— he’s changed. And I know he won’t try to talk about it as much.”

Jan momentarily stopped trying to fix her face, wiping her nose, mouth, and eyes, to listen to Ray fully.

“And I think he’ll get better. I think we’ll both be better. But, it’s going to take a really, really long time, I think,” Ray said, and Jan sobbed harder.

He didn’t say it, not now, and Jan won’t press, but she knew what this meant for them. She understood, but that didn’t make it hurt less.

In that moment, Jan made a new promise to herself: she would regain her composure and be there for Ray, even if it will be as a friend for now.

“Do you want to lie on the hammock? I’m sorry, I’ll do anything to not have my feet touch the ground,” Ray suggested to Jan as he had kept looking towards the trees.

“S-sure,” Jan sniffled, then smiled, getting up as she still held Ray’s hand.

Pete, after looking through all of Ray’s books, finally found one to read. It was called The Life of Maine, with details about any apolitical history, as well as the plant and animal life of the state. After having selected a book, Pete moved to use the bathroom. As he went to wash his hands, he saw the bathroom window above the toilet was open, and he could hear laughter. Smiling, Pete looked outside to see Ray and Jan in the same position he and Ray himself were in yesterday, with Ray splayed on the ground, looking up, and Jan lightly rocking in the hammock. Pete finished washing his hands and went back into Ray’s room.

But before collapsing on Ray’s bed, Pete stood in front of his apparent roommate’s desk once again. He looked at the polaroids again of Ray and Jan, and Jan with Ray’s family, when his father was still alive. Pete felt a pang of jealousy, and tried to pretend his eyes didn’t linger on Ray’s hand around Jan’s waist, or Ray’s hand on Jan’s knee.

Chapter Text

Pete had gotten all the way to the chapter on Waldo County, Maine, by the time he heard the back door of the Garraty home rattle against its frame. It was around mid-afternoon, and Pete, having had a full breakfast of Ginny's pancakes, had hardly moved from Ray's bed since he began to read. (Though in truth, his appetite and digestion hadn't fully returned to normal yet. Some meals sat in his stomach for hours, weighing him down, while other times he was either insatiable or straight nauseous, partially due to how much energy it took to chew certain meals after being accustomed to stews and goos from both The Walk and the hospital.) 

Pete presumed Ray and Jan were still together outside, having conversations he would likely never hear. However, during Ray and Pete's day apart (or as apart as they had been since The Walk), while Ray was occupied with Jan, Ginny arrived home with groceries, allowing Pete a moment alone with her.

After insisting on helping her unload groceries, the two worked their way around the kitchen largely in silence, with Ginny interrupting every few minutes to tell Pete where to put something, or what she was planning on making with it. 

Placing the last can of food on the pantry shelf, Pete moved to leave the kitchen, only, Ginny stopped him.

"Thank you for helping with the groceries. Maybe you can help with dinner tonight... only if you're interested, of course," Ginny said with a kind smile.

"Of course, I love whenever I get the chance to cook... which isn't a lot. It's the least I can do while you have me here." Pete responded.

"Peter," Ginny started, with now a more somber look on her face. Pete hesitated, unsure what he could have said that would upset her.

"I'm sorry, Ginny, I-" Pete began, not even knowing where his words were taking him, but he knew he had to say sorry before Ginny potentially became frustrated with him. Pete tried to shrug off what he started to feel, but it felt a lot like his body was preparing for bad news.

"No, no," Ginny started again, maintaining the sad look on her face. "You didn't do anything, Peter. I just want you to know you can stay here for as long as you like. Forever, really. You're family. We," Ginny motioned between them, then towards the kitchen window facing the backyard. "Are family."

Pete was taken aback, not expecting Ginny's response to be one that rejected the very thoughts that started churning in his mind. He couldn't remember the last time someone had spoken to him so gently, of course, besides Ray, but especially coming from an adult.

"Oh. Thank you, Ginny. You've made me feel more than welcome here. You know I've never exactly-" Pete now gestured around the room as well with his hands, "had practice with this sort of thing. I didn't think it was for... kids like me." Pete finished, feeling ridiculous for calling himself a kid at his age. But that was the truth. After being traded family to family half of his youth, the traditional family dynamic felt like something he aspired for as a child, and realized wasn't possible as an adult. If anything, anyways, Pete felt he didn't need it, after all this time. "And y'know you can call me Pete, Ginny."

"I know... It's just... when I look at you, you look so young. I know what you boys went through puts you both in a mature spot now, having seen what you've both... seen," Ginny started to explain. "But, when I look at you, the both of you, and how young you two are, really, my heart sees little Ray, and I guess I just see that in you, too, now. It's silly, but, Peter just makes you seem a little more like a kid. And I promise you, this, having people there for you, is something for you, too." Ginny sadly smiled. 

Pete didn't know how to react. He understood what Ginny was saying, and he was sure it killed her to look at Ray now, after everything, and still see her little boy. His brain knew he should take this as something sweet, but his heart couldn't understand it. He settled for returning her smile, hoping it could translate how grateful he was, even if he couldn't truly feel it.

Pete had brought his book down with him, placing it on the table before he started putting food away. He decided to stay downstairs to read his book, moving to the small living room off the side of the kitchen in the house. Pete had passed by the room, but hadn't really sat down. The wallpaper was a faded yellow or an off white, with the age of it making it hard to tell, with an old floral-looking design on it. There was a small couch along the wall, big enough to seat two people, and a brown upholstered chair with ribbing on it right when you walked into the room. The carpet looked a faded gray/brown, and as Pete looked ahead, there was a small side table beside the chair, which had a lamp on its surface and magazines on its lower shelf. Beyond that, a small television stand had a large old television perched upon it. On the far wall was the brown-brick fireplace with a mantel above it housing the usual AM/FM radio permitted and family photos. 

As Ginny went upstairs to do start on some of Ray's laundry so both the boys had enough clothes, Pete stepped further into the room, slowly making his way to the mantel. The room was cozy, frozen in time as most houses were, with no one capable of affording anything like new flooring, repaint jobs, and remodeling. As he stepped toward the photos, he began to make out little Ray.

In Ray's room, all of the photos were fairly recent, with maybe one slightly older photo with family. Here, all photos were at least a decade old. There was Ray being held as a baby, Ginny and her husband cutting a modest wedding cake, leaning over the cake to kiss one another as they held the knife down. Photos of distant family members alongside a young Ray with hardly any teeth, or bad haircuts, littered the mantel. Pete smiled to himself looking at the photos, wanting to commit all of them to memory. Pete then moved to sit down on the couch, taking in the room more, before opening his book to continue, though, he did little reading and more observing. 

That was when Pete could hear the door to the backyard rattle in the kitchen. With a wall separating much of the kitchen from the living room, Pete leaned over in his spot to try and take a look.

Jan started to say something about seeing Pete sometime soon, likely within the next few days by the sound of it. Ray a noise in the affirmative as they moved through the kitchen, more into Pete's point of view. Before they both moved into the hallway leading to the front door, Jan turned around and threw her arms around Ray's shoulder, thanking god again that Ray was alive again, saying she was so happy he was okay. Ray hugged her back, saying he was happy she came by, when Jan let go from the hug and instead turned to kiss Ray on the cheek. Pete, seeing all of this, found it hard to not laugh or say anything, but he controlled himself as he watched Ray blush awkwardly while Jan reiterated her goodbyes and left out the door. Pete could see Ray walk to the front door, likely to wave goodbye again, and as he reentered the kitchen, Pete stood up and followed.

As Pete walked into the room, Ray turned around from getting a glass of water and slightly jumped. Sighing in mock frustration, Ray began to laugh. "How long were you there for?" Ray squinted, breaking out an awkward smile. 

"Oh, plenty long enough, lover boy," Pete laughed, clapping Ray on the shoulder.

"Great. Yeah, not my best work," Ray said as he sipped his water, still shaking his head as he knew what he was in for now with Pete.

"Isn't that your girl, Ray?"

"Well, no... yes... It's complicated."

"Now you're sounding like a player, Garraty."

"I promise there's no others in the running here, she's pretty much the only person who's ever shown interest in me-"

"No way in hell, am I believing that, Ray."

"-as I was saying, it's not like there's anyone else... I just don't know if we're really right for each other, s'all," Ray finished.

"Well, this is easy Ray. You like her?"

"It's not that-"

"Then you don't like her! If it's not a yes, it's a no, Ray, you'll come to know."

"Glad we have our best minds on the case,"

"I'm serious! When you know, you know, as they say, and you don't seem to know much, do you?"

"No... but I'm not thinking about that really right now. We did kind of just barely survived, you know."

"And don't I know it. But Ray, that should make you know more. It is the reflex of our earthly frame," Pete told Ray.

"I guess. Maybe not for me. I don't know what to feel...were you being extra poetic or is that something I'm not picking up?"

"Coleridge. I don't know Ray, you should think about it some. Isn't this the same girl that didn't want you to go on The Walk? Said to not do it for her?"

"Yes, but-"

"And are you the same man that went and signed up? That went ahead and did it? Knowing what it meant?"

"Hey, I didn't sign up to be interrogated," Ray protested.

"You're not. But don't you think about why you did what you did?"

"You know why," Ray lowered his voice. "I wanted to k-"

"Yes, I know that. That was your motivation. But what, really, was the action that made you go do it? 'Cause twenty bucks, Ray, says that you did it because you were afraid," Pete suggested, the tension in his voice growing as he tried to get Ray to admit what he had done. If not for his own good, then at least for Jan's. 

"Right, go ahead and psychoanalyze me, Pete. 'Cause you know my relationship better than me. Because you know relationships at all? You said you didn't have a girl." Ray fought back. 

"I'm just suggesting you think about it is all. You know it'll take up both your energy and her energy, not to mention time, if you just don't have a clue what you're doing, and she clearly wants you." Pete said with a sigh, trying to reel both of them in from the precipice of a fight that was budding. "And just because I said I don't have a girl, Ray, doesn't mean I don't know relationships," Pete responded to Ray's jab at him sincerely, looking up to meet Ray's eyes as he finished speaking. 

Ray paused, not retreating from Pete's gaze. "Then what is that supposed-"

Pete cut him off. "You're smarter than this, Garraty," Pete said as he gave Ray a knowing look, slightly furrowing his brows.

"What, like, relationships with... with guys, as in you, Pete...y'know, queer?" Ray started guessing, unsure of what answer he would hear. Not knowing why, Ray's heart began to race... because he knew, or perhaps didn't know, which answer he feared.

"Yes." Pete said immediately, stopping Ray from rambling further. "Yes, as in queer, gay, homo, whatever people want to call it. Yes," Pete crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back on the kitchen table, facing Ray as he did the same against the kitchen sink. The two stared at each other for a moment.

"Okay." Ray nodded, looking at Pete calmly.

"Okay." Pete returned, nearly defensively. "It's nothing different from what you and Jan have," Pete said, still staring.

"Yeah," Ray agreed, nodding again.

"Yeah?" Pete challenged.

"Yes, McVries."

With that, Pete knew that was Ray's way of saying he was okay. 

As they stood there, both still left with questions, either for themselves or each other, Ginny came downstairs, ready to start making dinner.

"Pete, you ready to cook?" Ginny asked, smiling.

"Sure am, Ginny, what's on the schedule?" 

After washing up, Ginny and Pete set the chicken in a marinade, then they began on their sides, with Pete shaving potatoes and Ginny setting a pot on the stove for rice. Ray sat at the table flipping through the book Pete had left in the living room in between catching glances of Pete and his mom working in tandem. He froze when he looked up as he heard his mom beginning to hum. 

"What's that, Ginny? Were you saying something?" Pete turned to Ray's mom as she took a moment to move the chicken from the marinade into a glass pan to place in the oven.

"Oh! No, Ray, I was just hummin' a song here," Ginny said.

"What is it?" Pete asked, sounding genuinely interested. 

"It's just a lullaby... I used to sing it for Ray when he was a baby, or sometimes cleaning around the house," Ginny explained to Pete.

"Well I'd love to hear it," Pete smiled at Ginny, momentarily taking a break from seasoning the now chopped potatoes. Ginny smiled in return, turning on the sink faucet to wash her hands, when both boys in the room could begin to hear her hum at first, then sing.

"...In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty, I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone.." Ginny paused, drying her hands, as both Ray and Pete looked at her with eyes asking for her to continue.

"As she wheeled her wheelbarrow, through the streets, broad and narrow, crying cookies and mussels alive, alive oh," Ginny finished with a small smile, looking to Ray.

"I was thinkin' about that on the walk, Ma, y'know," Ray offered.

"Were you? I haven't sung that in God, I don't know how long," Ginny replied, pulling a chair out beside Ray as Pete put the tray of potatoes in the oven, too.

"Ah, yeah. That's true. But, for some reason, you sang a little bit of it the night," Ray looked down for a moment before continuing. "The night dad died."

Ginny slowly nodded, looking from Ray in front of her to the wall next to him, slightly disassociated. 

"It kept me going, though. Hearing you sing it in my head," Ray added, drawing his mom back into the conversation. Pete took out the chair next to her and sat down, leaning forward to cross his arms on the table. 

"Good, I'm glad. I must've sang that song every day to you as a baby," Ginny said.

"It's a very good one, Ginny. Thank you for sharing it. Any song that kept Ray alive is a good song in my mind," Pete lightly joked.

"Mine, too," Ginny said, resting a hand on Pete's arm, then moving to place her other on Ray's hand laid on the table, taking a moment to squeeze. 

After a few minutes, Pete told Ginny to stay seated as he took everything out of the oven and stirred the finished rice to fluff it up. Now knowing where (most) things were, Pete plated three plates with the cooked chicken, roasted potatoes, and rice, passing each with a fork and knife to Ray and Ginny. 

The three ate with some conversation as Ray complimented the meal while Pete spoke about his few cooking endeavors before--stories of kids with access to stoves and crummy, beat down apartments where he was either expected to make the food, or crashing briefly, or sneaking around. Ray and Ginny listened largely out of interest, though partially in sympathy, too, laughing when Pete laughed, but both hiding how they felt for the man sitting with them. 

Afterwards, it was Ray's turn to wash everything up, while Pete told Ray he'd be upstairs, taking the time to get in his pajamas and brush his teeth. Ginny, of course, tried to put away the first few plates Ray washed, and when he caught her doing so, he shooed her off, laughing as she flew her hands up in the air, leaving the room. 

Once Ray finished washing up, with Pete in the bedroom, Ray brushed his teeth in the bathroom, with Ginny stopping by the door to hug her son mid-brush, kissing him on the cheek "goodnight" to Ray's "goo' righ", mouth full of toothpaste. Upon returning to his room, Pete was splayed across the bed, reading on his stomach with his feet in the air. Ray scoffed as he walked into the room to his dresser.

"You laugh now, but you'll realize this is one of few positions where your feet don't have to touch nothing at all, Ray," Pete laughed, not looking up from the book. Ray shook his head back and forth, trying to not seem as hesitant as he felt about getting changed right there. 

Ray quickly pulled his shirt over his head, yanking the new shirt over within seconds. He then unbuttoned his pants and quickly stepped out of them, putting little effort in getting on his old school gym shorts over top of his boxers. 

Ray threw his dirty clothes into his hamper bag slouched in the corner of the room beside the dresser, then sat next to Pete on the bed, legs facing out as he turned his body to look at the page Pete was on. After a few minutes passed, Ray asked, "Are you going to turn the page?"

Pete paused like he was thinking about it. "I actually had a proposal, if you wanted to hear it," Pete asked.

"Well don't just tempt me, go on now," Ray laughed.

Pete closed the book then rolled over, laying on his back, looking up at the ceiling, then sitting up on his elbows, facing Ray. "You remember that moonshine?" Pete smirked.

"Shit, how could I forget."

"Perfect, I thought that should be your answer," Pete said, leaning over the edge of the bed, past Ray, to grab a bottle from beneath Ray's bed.

"How did I not see that yet?"

"Probably 'cause you didn't look," Pete teased, looking to Ray as he untwisted the bottle's cap, sniffing the top before shoving it under Ray's nose.

"Jeez, that's strong," Ray said, pushing Pete's hand holding the bottle slightly away.

"It's moonshine, Ray. 'Course it's strong," Pete said. He proceeded to take what looked like two gulps of the drink, before passing it to Ray, who took one and winced, grimacing as he pulled the bottle from his lips.

Pete grabbed the bottle immediately. "Are you a lightweight? Do you even know?"

"I'd assume I'm not, just from my size, but can't say I've really had enough to fully realize that."

"Mmm," Pete hummed, taking another short sip. "We're about to, then."

Ray grabbed the bottle from Pete's hand with a surge of bravery, then quickly swallowed two gulps of the substance, which turned out to be a slight peachy flavor. "I guess we will."

"Want to play a game, then?" Pete suggested as the two paused after Ray's drink. 

"'Pends on the game, McVries. I don't want to end up naked or anything," Pete leaned back for a moment, giving Ray a disapproving look. "No- Oh, no, not in that way, not that I think you'd do that, just, I was saying like, like strip poker, or something," Ray rushed, knowing what his friend assumed he meant. 

Pete regained composure, trying not to reveal how much he had worried in that split second, thinking Ray had already figured their relationship would be different now that Pete's queerness was known. "Nothing like that, just truth or drink. No catch, unless you want there to be," Pete said.

"I'm good with that. That's... relatively harmless."

"Then I'll ask first? Or do you?" Pete asked.

"Uh, you can ask first, I'll think of something."

"Alright," Pete nodded. "Truth or drink... how are you feeling?" 

Ray scoffed, "All that talk, Pete, I thought you had something good."

"I figured I'd start off easy," Pete said matter-of-factly.

"Well, uh," Ray started, lifting the bottle up slightly. "I can feel the beginnings of being maybe tipsy, which is a good sign. We had food, which was good. I'm not in too much pain. I got to see Jan. I'm feeling pretty good, I'd say," Ray finished, holding out the bottle to Pete, who took it. The two were now sitting criss-crossed in front of each other towards the end of the bed. Pete nodded at his response.

"Good. And, if you wanted to know, your wounds are looking good," Pete said.

"When did you see that?" Ray asked.

"Just for a moment, when you were getting changed. I wanted to look and make sure they stayed looking normal, which they did, they are."

Ray took a moment, imagining Pete watching him from the bed, his shirt off, unaware of his gaze. He nodded, adding a curt "thanks". 

"Truth or drink... so, how many relationships have you had, Pete."

Pete lifted the drink to his lips, then smirked, lowering it. "The thing about this game, I'm not all that scared of saying anything," Pete began. "Sort of depends on what you consider, but I would say one, real, committed relationship. The rest were flings, brief. And there you have it," Pete smiled, handing the bottle back to Ray.

This response only made Ray more curious. What was the one relationship? What was considered a fling? And, most unfortunate of all, how far did any of that mean?

"Similar question. How far you ever been with Jan?" Pete smiled.

"Ahh.. c'mon, Pete, you know.." Ray shook his head, "you know I've got to drink to that one."

"Hey, no one's forcing your hand. But if you drink, you drink," Pete countered.

"I like this tipsiness I have right now, though..." Ray reasoned as Pete stayed still, letting Ray come to his own conclusion. "Okay. I'll just say we've kissed, of course,"

"With tongue? If not, no need to go any further, I'll have my answer," Pete teased.

"Let me get to it, okay. Yes, and maybe some hand stuff, but nothing more. Not like that," Ray blushed, holding out the drink to Pete. 

Pete delightfully grabbed the bottle back, having taken pleasure in embarrassing Ray momentarily. "I get the picture," Pete smiled. Pete figured Ray meant he had likely felt Jan up at some point in their relationship, and at another point, her hand had found its way to the waist of Ray's pants, and slightly lower.

"And you?" Ray asked.

"Well," Pete responded, holding the bottle firmly as he slightly shrugged his shoulders and bobbed his head back and forth, implying what he wasn't saying.

"Damn, with a guy?" Ray asked.

"Only one question, Garraty," Pete laughed as he passed the bottle back. "You ever been curious about a guy, Garraty?" Pete asked firmly. 

"Me? Oh.." Ray paused. "There was one time. I was a kid, like really, I didn't know what I was doing. And this one other boy, he lived maybe a block from here. One time we were playing and... yeah, we both just started looking at each other. That is, until our moms found out," Ray told Pete, looking down at the bottle between his hands. 

Pete breathed in, making a noise like a wince in second-hand embarrassment. "That's rough, Ray."

"Tell me about it, my mom--I didn't forgive her for years, but I see why she acted the way she did--she threatened me to walk the streets naked as punishment. I cried and cried for hours until she finally told me to get dressed and get ready for bed. I was scarred." Ray laughed at the end, taking a swig of moonshine harshly.

"Hey, you told the truth?" Pete pointed out.

"Felt like I still needed the drink, honestly," Ray and Pete both laughed as Pete grabbed the bottle, taking a drink as well. 

"Well shit, that is rough, Ray. Anything since then?" Pete felt brave enough to pry more.

"Hey, only one question, McVries. Now you're up." Ray shook his head. "So. With a guy?" Ray laughed.

Pete laughed, too, taking his turn to shake his head now, sighing overdramatically. 

"Well-" Pete began, then abruptly put the bottle of moonshine to his lips and swallowed. Pete wiped his lips and looked up to Ray, who had rolled his eyes, not being able to help himself but laugh.

"You're really teetering the line there between the whole truth or drink thing," Ray accused Pete, laughing.

"I like to keep you on your toes, Garraty," Pete smiled. The bottle of moonshine was now half empty, and the two were sufficiently drunk at this point, having a moonshine equivalent to about five shots each, give or take.

The boys paused from the game, both taking a minute to think of truths, then inevitably both laying down, facing opposite directions. Ray closed his eyes and hummed slightly, half drunk and half in sleep. Pete himself had his eyes closed, looking occasionally up to Ray on the other side of the bed from him. Pete thanked god they were too tired to really move, properly laying side by side as they had the night before. He worried God knows what ways his body may betray him in his sleep, especially after some drinks. 

Ray, on the other end of the bed, hummed himself into an in-between state of sleep and consciousness, beginning to dream of Pete and him on the road, walking, once again.

Chapter Text

One of the few good parts of The Walk was the mile-long stretches of slugging along under the trees. Whether it was day or night, it was slightly cooler, and the additional sensory exposures of the trees, birds, and other life provided some sort of distraction/entertainment for the walkers left. Better yet, though, underneath the trees, the boys had come to find out that less people were watching the broadcast, and less could be seen. The walkers in the front had slowly sent the message that the soldiers alongside the war machines were discussing the lighting of the candid cameras, trying to find the best way to still maintain viewership. 

Consciously or not, this announcement made all the boys drop their shoulders, slightly, and go from trying to walk at a 3.4 mile per hour pace to a steady 3.1. Pete and Ray erred toward the right side of the road, while Art and Olson walked companionably ahead of the two in the middle of the road. 

There were about 20 walkers left at this point, with all of the boys Ray and Pete had become somewhat familiar with still surrounding them.

Pete had his arm slung over Ray's shoulder, moving his arm from where it previously was situated under Ray's arm, holding him up during his intermittent sleep. Ray held onto Pete's waist beside him, slightly causing his shirt under his jacket to ride up from clutching it so tightly. 

"Ray," Pete said, shaking the man beside him. "You've gotta drink something, compadre. It'll wake you up more."

Ray was at the stage of weariness where his eyelids felt like they were closing on their own in long blinks, where each time he opened his eyes it felt as though an hour had passed. Ray nodded, slowly blinking in an attempt to wake up, as he realized they were under the trees now.

It was nearly dusk with the sun setting in the west, the thick brush of trees hardly letting much of the deep purple-pink of the sky be visible. Pete figured it may hurt Ray to be napping so early, but he let him do so anyway in hopes that it would energize him for the night, having not let Ray sleep too long, anyways.

"Yeah, yeah," Ray nodded, taking a few swigs of his water before leaning forward slightly to dump the rest of his canteen over his head, missing Pete's arm. "47 canteen! 47 canteen!" He yelled, to which a soldier from behind him passed a canteen, retreating to the vehicle behind them. Ray dropped his arm from Pete's waist and chugged nearly half of the water, lifting the canteen to his lips with both hands.

"Easy, there, you've got to eat something too, and drinking too fast on top of that won't bode well for you," Pete advised.

With a slight gasp after drinking, Ray twisted his canteen closed, permitting Ray's arm to still hover over him, but moving his own hands back to the strap of his backpack as they kept moving.

"Now we've got to keep you awake, the real hard part is coming up on us, now," Pete added.

"I know... 's so funny how before this, I could stay up every night easy, and now, I can hardly be fully awake during the day,"

"You do know you're on the Long Walk, right, Ray?" Pete laughed.

"Shutup, asshole, I know I'm on the Long Walk, alright," Ray defended himself. "I just thought, I don't know, it'd be easier, having normally been up at night. Is that why you find it so easy, Pete?" Ray asked quietly.

"I've been walking away my whole life, Ray. Just now, I have reason to believe I'm walking towards something," Pete answered. In reality, he unrealistically, fantastically hoped of walking to more than just the winnings. Maybe walking to someone. Or walking towards something... the great expanse of the future ahead of them, with someone, instead of walking away as he always had, alone. 

"That's surely a positive spin on this," Ray said in disbelief, looking down at their feet.

"Well, what would you normally be doing on a night like this? At Home. Comfortable," Pete asked.

"Ahh," Ray momentarily bit his bottom lip in thought, as Pete watched the boy next to him. So long as he could keep him thinking, keep him talking, they'd be fine, Pete felt. "Maybe washing up after dinner with my mom. Or sitting out front with Jan. Or just listening to the radio from my bed," Ray rattled on. 

"You've got to pick one of them," Pete commented.

"Then maybe I'd be in bed, probably," Ray decided, not wanting to think about how sad, how quiet his house was without his father, and how much he just couldn't think of Jan right now. "Just listening to maybe if they are replaying a game on the radio, or just playing some oldies, y'know," Ray sighed. "Just sitting in my bed, smelling the night breeze from my window, closing my eyes, laying back." The two boys stared ahead of themselves for a moment, imagining the idea of a bed, of relaxation.

"Sounds relaxing," Pete asserted.

"Mhm," Ray nodded.

"Would you be doing anything else, to relax," Pete asked, using his free hand to gesture in the air, looking for Ray to add on.

Ray laughed, looking up to meet Pete's face, smirking with an eyebrow raised. "C'mon, Pete, you're so gross," Ray shook his head.

Ray felt a chill go down him as he realized Pete's arm had left his shoulder, now holding both his hands up defensively. 

"I didn't say anything! Just asked, you filled in the gaps there, Garraty," Pete chuckled. "But don't you wish you could."

"Right now? Jesus, no," Ray answered, though as he began to think of the comfort of his own bed, what he would normally be doing tonight, his declaration faltered. "Besides, there's all the candid cameras," Ray said, using his pointer fingers still wrapped around his bag's straps to point ahead. 

"Well, y'know it's dark out, and we're surrounded by woods--they can hardly see shit," Pete said.

"Are you encouraging this?" Ray responded.

"Not necessarily, I just think you're easy to tease," Pete said, placing his arm back around Ray, now settled at his waist. "But don't tempt me," Pete smiled again, moving his hand to have his fingers rest in between Ray's front belt loop.

Ray felt a shiver come over his body as Pete moved his hand to a more sensitive area. He could feel Pete's index finger just barely touching skin--or touching shirt--above his pants, while two of his fingers were looped in his belt, burning through him. Still walking side by side, Ray imagined placing his hand over Pete's, largely looking ahead, but stealing glances below at Pete's hand. 

"C'mon," Ray lightly shoved Pete, whose hand now moved slightly upward as he lost grip of Ray's belt loops. Now, his hand rested on his hip and the skin just below his ribs. The tingling sensation Ray felt still wouldn't go away. As they walked for a moment longer, Ray swore he could see Pete's hand trail back to where it was formerly, if not slightly lower underneath his right hip.

"What?" Pete asked, smiling at Ray, who reluctantly had a wry smile coming over his face. 

At this, Pete, still wearing a lazy smile, moved his hand back up to the waistband of Ray's pants, his fingers tracing the slight ridge of difference between skin and clothing. Ray knew he was blushing, and thanked god for his own sake (and the cameras) that not much was visible given the time of day. He wanted Pete to go further, but at the same time, felt excited in a way that he didn't want to fully realize.

Ray looked up to Pete, scrambling to find the right question to ask about what was happening, when, from above, he heard a voice, resounding against everything. 

"Ray, Ray," he heard a family voice say, but it wasn't Pete. "Ray,"

Suddenly, Ray woke up, with a slight dot of drool he quickly wiped from his lips, moving the same hand through his hair as he moved from his side onto back, sitting up. He woke up to Pete sitting next to him, facing the wall behind him, with a hand lightly raised in the air as he pulled away from shaking Ray awake.

"Sorry, you were starting to squirm around, and it's morning anyway, so I thought I'd wake you up," Pete said, now at eye level with Ray, who was rubbing his eyes with his hands. 

"Yeah, thanks," Ray said. Pete was looking intently at him. 

"Dream about The Walk? Wanna talk about it, compadre?" Pete questioned.

"Yeah, no, it was about The Walk, I'm fine. No one died in this one," Ray replied.

"That doesn't mean it wasn't bad," Pete insisted.

"No, no, it wasn't bad," Ray tried to reason, leading Pete to raise an eyebrow. Ray finally made eye contact with Pete and slightly pursed his lips to try and prevent any further argument.

"Alright, good..." Pete shook his head, bringing his legs to his chest to wrap his arms around. "The good thing about drinking, for me, is the long, dreamless sleep," Pete told Ray.

"I'll look forward to that next time,"

"Next time?"

"We still have more, don't we?" Ray furrowed his brows.

"We do, we do. I just didn't take you to be itchin' for another already," Pete said sarcastically.

"Whatever," Ray brushed Pete off, getting up with a laugh to head to the bathroom. 

Upon closing the door behind him, Ray's mind started turning. How long did he watch me for? How long did he try and wake me up? Could he tell what my dream was? No, he's not a mind reader, dumbass. And lastly, what the fuck was that? Thankfully, as Ray went to pee he realized the dream hadn't had any visible effects on him, which alleviated some concerns. 

Did he like the dream? Yes, Ray thought, thinking of the slight sensitive twitching feeling he got at a hand resting on his lower stomach, on his waistband. Maybe, he began to think, this was some sort of sexual frustration, after seeing Jan, just... redirected elsewhere. And Ray told himself, I thought of Jimmy for the first time in years. These two reasonings, together, felt like enough to support the ultimate conclusion that came about, that being his dream. 

As Ray washed his hands, there was then a knock at the door, to which he opened up to Pete, naturally.

"Hey, was just going to brush my teeth before anything else...falling asleep after a drink makes for the worst morning breath in the world. I can even smell my own," Pete explained himself as he ran his toothbrush under the faucet and squeezed toothpaste on.

"Fair point. I haven't looked into that yet... but I should probably do that," Ray responded as he grabbed his toothbrush off the counter and did the same. 

The two brushed their teeth in relative silence, then Ray left Pete to use the bathroom, taking the chance to get changed for the day briefly. Once they both went downstairs, Ginny was making enough eggs for all three of them, asking if they had any plans. 

"I've been wanting to set out on the town... see a bit more of Maine than just its roads," Pete joked.

"That sounds like a good idea- Ray, you should show him all the spots you go to," Ginny called out to Ray as she plated their eggs. 

"Sure," Ray laughed. "All two of them."

Ginny sat down and lightheartedly glared at Ray, breaking into a small smile. "There's more than just two things to do, I promise, Pete."

Afterwards, the two boys grabbed a canteen to share water with, flinching at first at the sight of Ray's metallic flask, giving each other a knowing look. They set out to the left of the Garraty house, leaving the car behind.

"Well, a lot of the stuff I went around to is within walking distance," Ray began to explain.

"Naturally," Pete teased. "Don't worry, if we're going to Art's and Hank's homes soon, you won't be able to get out of driving this time. I can start showing you this week."

"Ah," Ray winced. "Can't do tomorrow, though. I promised Jan I'd see her again."

"Well, at least one problem will be solved tomorrow," Pete justified.

"What?" Ray turned to Pete questioningly. 

"You're going to tell her tomorrow, right? If it's not yes, Ray..." 

"Oh, that. I still have to think about it, Pete. I mean, I really care about her, it's not just black and white,"

"I've tried to give you advice once, Ray, if you don't know what to do, I can't be of much more help."

"It's fine. I'll figure it out," Ray said, stopping the conversation in its tracks.

Then, without conversation, the boys walked the pavement when Ray started walking towards the field.

"Where are you going?" Pete asked.

"To destination one of two. Just follow me, it's not too much walking through this field." At this point, the two still had their bandages on around their feet, with less pus and blood every day, luckily, but scabbing still indefinitely.

The two walked comfortably alongside each other, when Pete had started slowly dissociating from their present moment. 

Pete was no longer back in his new home, walking the fields with Ray. Showered. Full. Hydrated. He was sticky, sweaty, bloody, and putrid. Soaked to the bone, Pete was gripping Ray, partially holding him up. Though, he didn't know how much that was true, when the two of them were dragging their feet, practically lurching forward with every step. 

Pete could admit that he was the stronger of the two. He had more endurance, better capable of mind over matter, better and concealing how he felt for now, unpacking all that had happened later. He knew Ray was fading, and he couldn't let him go. Like a dog he couldn't bear to put down himself. Which is exactly why he had to go first.

Pete slowly pulled himself out from Ray, who slowly became more aware of this, gasping for air and using his energy to cast a cautious look towards Pete.

"P-Pete," Ray said, spitting out the water hitting his lips as he spoke. 

Before anything else could be said, Pete had completely stopped. They both already had one warning as it was.

Warning, 23. Second warning, 23.

Ray fell to the floor, scrambling on his hands and knees toward Pete, who had now moved to sit down. Relief at last, Pete thought for his feet. Meanwhile, Ray, hardly alive and aware as it was, was gasping, making various moaning, guttural noises as every part of him ached for release.

Warning, 47. Second warning, 47.

"Pete, please. Please. Just a little while longer. P-Plea-Please." Ray could hardly spit out, getting into a kneeling position and pushing himself up on his knee with one hand, grabbing Pete's hand with his other.

Pete felt himself get pulled by Ray, attempting to drag him up. Surprisingly, for how terrible Ray seemed, he had some motion when pulling Pete up. He could feel his body be entirely jerked forward by the motion. Pete felt calm, at peace with what certain death was to come. But, as he watched Ray in front of him, water smacking his face, tears coming down, mouth open in agony, against his better judgment, he stood. 

Warning, 23. Third warning, 23. 

"Come on, c'mon, let's go," Ray urged, as Pete took the other man under his arm once again, trudging forward. They could hear the onlookers down the road. Pete smiled at Ray, who shrugged off Pete's arm, grabbing his canteen. The two looked forward as they moved along. When Pete looked left to Ray, going to assume position again, his arm slung over the other man's shoulder, it was already to late. Ray knelt on the ground.

Warning, 47. Third warning, 47.

"Ray," Pete sobbed, moving to grab him.

Ray, practically collapsed on his knees, put his hands on either of Pete's shoulders, leaning into his ear. Pete could still feel the warmth of his breath, the warmth of his liveliness against him. 

"I can't see it, Pete. But you can. It's why I love you. I love you, Pete," Ray had said, what should have been his last words.

A soldier stepped out from the beginnings of the crowd, shooting Ray twice as other figures emerged. More soldiers, more onlookers, fans, The Major, marching forward. Pete sobbed over Ray as he collapsed further, one hand pressed on the ground in an attempt at support, another clasping his stomach.

"Please. Please, anyone!" Pete choked out. "I want him to live. I want my wish. I want my wish. He can't die. He will live," Pete turned to the Major. "You're... going to make him live." 

The Major laughed. "That's not how the Walk works, kid. This is what you signed up for."

"I also signed up for my wish. And I want him to live. He's already still alive. He's not dead. And we- we have an audience, sir." Pete tried to plead. 

That was when The Major cut the cameras. Pete frantically looked around. Another gunshot went off, he couldn't see where. That was when he was pulled aside by two soldiers into one of their vehicles as he yelled for Ray. People were cheering. The rain still poured. The last thing Pete remembered was being butted with the carbine.

That was when he woke in the hospital. He was told he was being treated for his injuries on his feet, dehydration, and monitored for rhabdomyolysis. He ignored all of their answers to questions he didn't ask. After each nurse came in to quiet him down, describe what he was there for, all he did was insistently ask: "Where is he? Where's Ray?" 

The Major had met with him before he was sedated. This was the only time they spoke. He explained what was to happen. He would not disclose to Pete if he were alive, just that he was also in the hospital. The cameras had been cut. The audience had been lead to believe the third shot got Ray, for good. Ray was dead. There would be an NDA signed at the end of his hospital stay, for both of them, if applicable. Ray was dead to the outside world, and he would keep sure of it. Pete was the winner. The Major had gotten so close to Pete's face he could feel his breath as he did Ray's. Could feel his spit.

"We should've got you, too," The Major said with a brief chuckle. "You're going to be real careful the rest of your life, aren't'chu now, boy," The Major smirked sadistically, pulling himself away.

It was the last Pete heard before he was sedated. When he came to, the first thing he asked about was Ray's condition once again. 

And now here he was, with Ray, okay. The only people who knew of his life were his mother and Jan's family, who were both told to keep quiet, as Ray had quietly explained to his mom on their first day home. 

It would have to be the two of them and Pete's winnings the rest of their lives. Pete was okay with that. That was no sentence to him. He just hoped it was enough for Ray, too. Hopefully, it would be more than enough. Good.

Pete returned to the present moment, walking down the field with Ray, when they stumbled upon a valley, a strip of water that, further ahead of them, looked like it led to a pool in the opening between the two impending woods. 

"You like to swim, Pete?" Ray smiled, squinting in the sun as he looked at Pete. 

Pete had to force himself to come off of his mood. This was our life now. Our moment, even when it's filled with bad dreams and memories and secrets. 

Pete didn't answer, but looked behind him to Ray as he began in a sort of trot-walk towards the water, pulling his shirt off.