Chapter Text
“You gonna eat that, Ray?”
Raleigh sighed. That Ray thing was never going away. Apparently, neither was Chuck. Surviving Pitfall had left the brat feeling invincible, and if the little shit broke one more bo over Raleigh’s shoulder during a “friendly” spar....
“Oi, Ray.”
“No.”
“No what?”
He sighed. “No, I’m not gonna eat that.”
Grey eyes narrowed. “You didn’t eat lunch, either. Or breakfast. You pregnant or something, mate?”
Despite himself, he snorted and shot his former nemesis a wry look. “You are such an asshole.”
“So I’ve been told.” Chuck smirked, showing off that canyon of a dimple. “But seriously, what gives?”
Sighing, he returned his attention to the food he’d been poking at. “Nothing.” And then, without consulting with his brain, his mouth kept running. “Tomorrow’s March 1.”
The brat raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? I mean… that’s how the calendar works, mate. First it’s February. Then it’s March.”
His jaw clenched. Chuck wasn’t intentionally being an asshole, and unless Raleigh actually wanted to start a fight, he’d better keep that in mind.
“Chuck....” He closed his eyes and put down his fork. “It’s not leap year.”
Slower this time, the brat repeated himself. “Yyyyyeah? So it’s March instead of–” Silence. “Oh. Fuck. Sorry.”
There was no February 29th tomorrow. He’d only really been able to mourn Yancy’s death once since it happened, but… every year....
“I… Ray… Raleigh, I mean....”
Huffing something that wasn’t quite a chuckle, he put his head in his hands.
“Shit, mate, I suck at this. What do you want me to do? Spar? Raid the cake stash? What?”
Okay, so Chuck could be a real asshole. The brat was brash and arrogant – maybe even moreso since Pitfall – and a real pain in the ass. But that right there?
Warm fuzzies. The kid didn’t have a clue how to be comforting, how to be a friend, but… he was trying. It was nice. In a really weird, really awkward way.
Swallowing hard, Raleigh peeked through his fingers. “When I was a kid, Yance used to drag me up to the roof so we could look up at the stars and talk Star Trek.”
Chuck’s nose wrinkled. “Never got into it.”
Well, so much for that–
“But I reckon I could scare us up a couple of blankets. What time?”
A knot welled up in his throat, but he did everything in his power to keep Chuck from seeing his struggle. Fidgeting with his milk carton, he shrugged. “Midnight? That way, it’ll almost be…?”
A hard, heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder. It was probably meant to be a friendly clap on the arm.
They’d work on it.
“Bonzer. Meet you there. Bring snacks.”
And just like that, the big bastard strolled off, hands in his pockets, likely to find some extra blankets. To sit up with a former rival and comfort him on the not-day of his brother’s death.
Despite the knowledge that it wouldn’t be the 29th for another few years, Raleigh found himself grinning and digging into his mashed potatoes with the first twinge of appetite all day.
“Yeah, Chuck,” he whispered, hoping no one heard him talking to himself but not really caring. "Meet you there.“ He shook his head. "With snacks.”