Chapter Text
Tommy’s brain had been hardwired into making him believe he was the worst person on the face of the earth so, naturally, when he’d been little he’d always thought that the end of the world would be on him. It had turned out, though, that he was not responsible for the apocalypse. Who was had never been found out exactly, the discussion had died down after a few years post world end, but he suspected the people in power, because. Well. Because he wasn’t at fault. He hadn’t even been doing something deplorable when society had tumbled, had just been hanging out in his room and playing Mario Kart with Billy because Billy still had had high aspirations of beating him one day. Those had ceased over the next few days, when they’d been huddled in front of the TV together and watching the news trying to make light of the situation until there hadn’t been a newscast to watch anymore. And in the following years they had completely dissipated, lost between them running and running and trying to survive in a world that was doing its best to kill them.
Tommy had a bandana wrapped around his mouth and nose as he stalked through a field surrounding Denver, trying not to breathe too heavily, while both of his hands were wrapped around the straps of his backpack. His Nikes had holes in them, some in his soles, and the morning dew that hung onto the grass was soaking through them, through his socks, right down into his bones. He didn’t know exactly if what had killed most of humanity was airborne but he wasn’t taking any chances, he liked being alive. He felt off-kilter, off-balance, as he made his way steadily through the plains, watching the dark grey sky turn more and more blue with each passing minute. He was missing a limb, he was missing something integral to him - maybe more of an organ than a limb. What was the thing responsible for filtering out toxins? That was the one he was missing. Except his existed outside of his body and wore the same face as him, framed by dark curls and filled with bad jokes and too much knowledge about comic books.
Tommy adjusted the grip he had on his backpack as he spotted the outline of a cottage in the distance and breathed out through his mouth. He’d reach that in the day, he was a fast walker and he still had enough energy from his last scavenged meal to break into a sprint for some of the way. Maybe there was some food left in the house, he thought to himself, steadily tracking through the fields, the crops having grown knee-high since they had been left unattended. Then he could pack some, sleep a little, and continue on his journey. His stupid dumb journey towards where he thought Billy might be, had to be. Because Tommy hadn’t had much pre-apocalypse, but he had always had his stupid brother. And he missed him something fiercely. They’d been separated for so long that he was ready to admit it to Billy’s face even, ready to see the glint in his eyes before he started crying, ready to be embraced a little too tightly by gangly limbs.
Billy had been taken – not left, because he’d never leave Tommy behind like that – three months ago. They had been roaming around Las Vegas trying to gather as many supplies as they could and Billy had had the brilliant idea of splitting up because, as he had said, he had a gun and had learned by now how to use it. When Tommy had heard the gunshots going off from a few blocks away he had run as fast as he had been able to and then had hunted after the tail lights of some Van, his brother’s voice shouting hoarsely for him. He hadn’t caught up because he’d been too slow and not focused enough, because he’d never be good enough to catch up with his twin and maybe, only maybe, because humans could not run as fast as cars. But he had been quick enough to read the licence plate of the car and now he was on his way to New York to collect his other half again. He had his own gun, stolen from a police station with the matching holster, and felt it press against his side as he walked and walked and walked and never stopped.
The sky had turned into an even teal-like shade as he could make out the shape of the building more clearly, scattered clouds hanging in the sky, the sun hidden by the perpetual blue mist that the apocalypse had brought with it. He missed the sun. He missed Billy. Tommy stopped for just a moment, legs aching from all the non-stop walking, and took a moment to let his eyes wander over the fields and let himself be exhausted. The house had grown in proportion, Tommy had never been good at estimating size and distance, and was probably more a farmhouse than a cottage. Good, the bigger it was the bigger the loot would be. He was thirsty but he didn’t have that much water left, but then again, if this truly was a farm they probably would have their own water supply. Which meant he could fill up his bottle without fear of poisoning himself with lead or something along those lines. Tommy slipped his backpack from his back, fiddled with the safety pin that held the busted zipper together, and pulled his water bottle out. He’d gotten that from his parents when he’d started university and the metal was dented and battered and scratched up, partially from living in a post apocalyptic world and partially because he’d been a university student, and most of the stickers were peeling off of it, some already missing their edges.
Tommy let his fingertips feel over one sticker that was still mostly intact, a green lightning bolt that he’d been gifted by Billy, before he screwed the top off and pulled down his bandana. He took two big gulps, but not too big, before he stuffed it back into his backpack and shouldered that again, arranging the gun holster with his pack. He allowed himself one breath of the cold and earthy smell of the field before he pulled his bandana up again and continued walking. He jogged a little of the way, getting rid of some of the restlessness that had settled underneath his skin and made him feel like he was filled with bugs, but walked most of it. The entire atmosphere was still overcast with this depressing teal colour when he reached the entrance of the farm, painting the off-white walls grey and turning the grass from green to turquoise. He pressed his ear to the front door, listening for anything at all, and when he heard nothing he tried his luck, pressing the handle down. It wasn’t locked. Tommy started smiling underneath his bandana. He pushed the door open and stepped into the entrance, the floor smeared with dirt and dust and some jackets still hanging on a coat rack as if the family that had lived here had left in a hurry. Which, to be fair, they probably had. Tommy closed the door behind himself.
He pulled his bandana down and then untied the knot of it, stuffing it into the left pocket of his jeans, and walked further into the house. It was eerily silent, the usual hum of electronics or the noise of humans missing, and Tommy tried to stay just as silent. Fatigue crashed over him just like that, being surrounded by walls, and the promise of safety made him sluggish and tired and fucking beat. It didn’t take him long to find the kitchen of the place, rustic and made mainly of a honey-coloured wood that had not bent to the apocalypse, and he knelt down as he opened a cabinet, finding it mostly empty except for food that must have turned by now. Fuck. Well, he wouldn’t give up so easily. Tommy opened more and more cabinets, getting louder and more careless with each of them, until he came across a can of beans that was still edible and a spoon that was still mostly clean. He let his fingers run across the curve of the piece of cutlery, trying not to watch his distorted reflection in it, his roots so grown out he looked more like Billy than himself, and rubbed off a spot of indistinguishable dirt. Maybe he would raid a drugstore next, if he found one, just to bleach his hair again.
“What”, a deep voice said behind Tommy, followed by the telltale sound of a safety being taken out
of a gun, “Are you doing here?”
“I’m trying to eat”, Tommy replied, his voice scratching around the vowels because he hadn’t used it in so long, and lowered the can of beans and spoon, face turned towards the kitchenette, the back of his neck prickling with his desire to run, “Obviously.”
“You sure about that?”, the voice asked and now Tommy heard a step coming closer towards him.
“Um, yeah”, Tommy laughed even if he didn’t feel like laughing at all, tried to come up with the fastest exit route he could take but feeling at a loss after having explored so little of the farmhouse, felt extra defeated because he didn’t even know how fast he could run right now with the way he was so worn out, “I think I know what I’m doing.”
“What’s your name?”, the voice asked, followed by another heavy footstep.
“Tommy”, Tommy answered truthfully, setting the two objects in his hand down before trying to reach for his gun and heard the person behind him click their tongue.
“Tommy, don’t make this situation worse for you than it already is”, the voice said, much closer behind Tommy than he would’ve liked, “Just - just leave. Take the beans and go.”
“Why?”, Tommy asked but stopped reaching for his gun, eyes falling onto the spoon and his warped face, trying to catch a glimpse of the stranger, “You got here first so you got squatter’s rights? Are you so unwilling to share in these desperate times, stranger?”
“David”, the voice introduced himself and then Tommy heard how he clicked the safety back into his gun, “It’s David.”
“You didn’t answer my question”, Tommy said and turned around slowly, taking the young man with his tinted glasses and oversized jeans-jacket in, a patch with a big X sewn onto the breast pocket, wearing black jeans and combat boots, holding on to a gun and a rifle slung around his torso, looking desaturated in the everlasting indigo light of the end of the world, “David.”
“I am unwilling to share”, David said and Tommy saw his jaw muscle jump, shadows pronouncing his features and making his eyes unreadable behind his glasses, “Especially with someone I don’t know and thus don’t trust.”
“We could get to know each other”, Tommy replied and he felt the ache in his legs more prominently than before, now that his chance at rest was close to being denied, “Over dinner maybe?”
“Why would you – ?”, David started but stopped himself, eyes roaming over Tommy in his pullover and distressed jeans, his Nikes that were almost falling apart, “Why do you want to have dinner with me?”
“Mostly so I can stay here”, Tommy replied, shrugging a little and leaning back against the kitchenette, hip bone pressing into the wooden counter, watching David watch him, “I’m tired, man. I’ve been walking for the entire day, I could use some rest.”
Silence stretched between them, David’s gun pointed at the floor as he regarded Tommy with intent. Tommy hadn’t figured out exactly what the intent was, but he tried his best to seem harmless. And he was – well, mostly. He could hold his own in a fight and he did have a gun, but he was too tired and strung out and dead set on getting his brother back that he would even consider fighting David. Especially considering his imposing frame, broad shouldered and defined and taller than Tommy. David could probably take Tommy down in a fair fight, even if Tommy didn’t engage in fair fights on principle. He could also maybe beat him in an unfair fight. And Tommy needed to stay alive to find Billy. He let a smile stretch his lips, winking at David just to do anything at all to defuse the situation, which made the other man furrow his brows. The little blue that was getting inside the farmhouse from the last remnants of the world around them contrasted with his tinted glasses, carved out his bone structure with the accompanying umbra. Although the farmhouse certainly had seen better days it was still lovingly decorated, with picture frames and self-made sculptures formed by young hands that had been buried beneath grime and soot but still effectively communicated a sense of home, of peace. David, on the other hand, looked rough, like he’d been awake for weeks, like he’d jumped out of a dystopian novel.
“You don’t know me”, David pointed out then, gun still in his hands, “I might be dangerous. Be part of a gang. Kill you.”
“Yeah, I mean, sure”, Tommy said, shrugging a little, “But you haven’t killed me yet or called your goons or gang-members or whatever.”
“So, what?”, David asked, and he looked mostly unbelieving as he listened to Tommy ramble, “You trust me?”
“Nah, definitely not”, Tommy said, and stepped away from the kitchenette, watched David’s fingers twitch on his gun, didn’t want to address the fact that he yearned for company more than anything in his life, that he was just trying to fill this void, “I just think if you wanted me dead I’d already be lying across the kitchenette with a hole in my head.”
“Maybe I enjoy torturing people”, David huffed and straightened his back, rising even higher above Tommy than he had before, “Looking at the last statistics released post the end more and more people were following their darker urges during the downfall of society. I could be one of those.”
“Right”, Tommy laughed, and maybe he was already enjoying David’s company too much, building a connection in his head that wasn’t there because people could never stand him for long enough, “What can I say to convince you, huh? I really want to just, I don’t know, eat my food and sleep in a bed for a couple of hours. Then I’ll be on my way and out of yours.”
“What are you doing here?”, David asked, repeating his question from earlier, nailing Tommy to the spot with the intensity of his gaze piercing through the veil of the bruised atmosphere.
“I’m –”, Tommy started and stopped, licked over his lips before he decided to fuck it all and be honest, “Fine, David. I’m looking for my brother. I think he’s in New York, so I’m on my way there. I just want a break, considering the miles I still have to walk.”
“Around 1,790 miles”, David said, his entire posture controlled as if he could raise the gun at any given moment, “That’s not too long. Two months tops.”
“Yeah, if nothing goes wrong”, Tommy said, squinting a little, his own stance lax and messy, “Remember the statistics? Well, truth be told, I didn’t read those, but I’ve come across my fair share of people following their darker urges. That’s thrown me off track a couple of times. Also, how do you know the exact mileage anyway?”
“I know lots of stuff”, David said, voice dry, face neutral, “Your brother, huh? What’s he doing in New York?”
“I don’t know”, Tommy said and grimaced, mulled the thought of exposing more of the truth of his situation over, eyes falling on David’s gun again and making up his mind, “He didn’t exactly go there out of his free will.”
“Oh”, David said and his mask slipped for just one moment and Tommy couldn’t stand the pity that flashed across the young man’s features, “I’m –”
“Sorry?”, Tommy grinned, interrupting the emotion in an effort to prevent it fully, showing his canines and seeing David’s grip on his gun tighten, “I bet.”
“What’s your brother’s name?”, David asked and Tommy bristled, balled his hands to fists.
“None of your business”, Tommy replied, still flashing his teeth, “I doubt you two knew each other.”
“How so?”, David asked, keeping his gun lowered.
“He would’ve mentioned you”, Tommy said, easily, maybe a little too easy, the desire to reunite with Billy swimming together with the desire to have anyone by his side, “You two probably would have bonded over statistics.”
“Are you rogue?”, David asked, then, cutting off their nice flow of conversation, “Or part of a compound?”
“Rogue, I guess”, Tommy replied, raising an eyebrow, mostly because joining compounds was difficult and people who did usually never left their territories, “You?”
“Rogue, too”, David said but he said it as if he wasn’t used to it, as if he was pressing down on an injury that hadn’t fully healed and Tommy felt something pull at his insides dragging him closer to David.
“Well, then, my fellow rogue”, Tommy said, a little louder than before, taking a step towards David, who was still clutching his gun but not pointing it at Tommy, “Introductions are out of the way, we bonded over my missing brother – Let’s have some dinner together. And a nap. Not necessarily together.”
“Okay”, David mumbled and then, after a few heartbeats, put his gun away, his eyes turning from hard to something softer, more agreeable, “Okay. Let’s have dinner, then. Before you leave.”
“How about the nap?”, Tommy asked as he blindly grabbed the can of beans and spoon from the counter behind him, “Is that off the table?”
“That depends on your behaviour during dinner”, David proclaimed and startled a laugh out of Tommy as he pulled his own backpack off of his shoulders, pulling various canned goods out that he had probably taken from the farmhouse's pantry, “I might even share my ravioli.”
There was probably a table somewhere in this place, although the kitchen space had apparently been too small for the family who had once lived here to cram one in. David just put the cans on the ground, deciding for the both of them that they would eat here. Maybe he’d already seen the dining room and decided it wasn’t to his liking. Maybe the room was too open or offended his aesthetic sensibilities. Tommy didn’t know but he felt a desire to find out. Whatever this was – the best word to describe it was probably a truce – pulled at Tommy’s heartstrings. The ones he’d always tried to ignore, his yearning for people to be by his side and then stay there. There was a commanding ease to David’s movements, but his eyes still kept flicking over to Tommy as if to check whether he hadn’t pulled his gun out yet. Tommy allowed himself to think about how good David looked drowning in all this blue, how the warm colour of sun would probably compliment him even more. Tommy couldn’t even tell what colour his patch was, the one with the X, but he guessed something yellow-ish or orange-ish, all washed up into something green in this light.
“Oh”, Tommy moaned exaggeratedly and earned a glance from David before he dropped to the ground in front of him, settling into a cross-legged position, “Talk dirty to me, David.”
“They’re vegetarian”, David played along, a smile pulling at the right corner of his mouth and accentuating the cut of his jaw, where Tommy’s eyes unwillingly lingered, “So we won’t have to peel the pasta off the bad minced meat.”
“Mhm”, Tommy grinned and suddenly this felt easy, as David went from a kneeling position into sitting down, one leg stretched out and the other bent at the knee, as he pushed three cans into their middle, “That’s so sexy.”
“It’s the little things”, David said and started to open one of the cans, peeling the metal cover back in one composed motion, “In the apocalypse.”
“Yeah, it is”, Tommy agreed and reached for the ravioli with his spoon before David had pulled the top all the way off, “Like a nice stranger sharing his ravioli.”
“Nice?”, David asked and actually chuckled, making Tommy grin before he shovelled the first spoon of ravioli into his mouth, “I threatened you with a gun.”
“I don’t fault you for it”, Tommy spoke through the food before he went in again, red sauce and pasta and all, “It’s the times, yada yada. By the way, what are you doing here?”
“I thought we didn’t trust each other”, David said slowly and collected as he also produced a spoon from his backpack, taking some of the ravioli and eating it much more dignifiedly than Tommy would ever be able to.
“Well, I told you my story”, Tommy said, wiping some sauce from the corner of his mouth, “I think it’s only fair you tell me yours.”
“No”, David said, instantly and steadily, making Tommy pause as he reached out for more ravioli, then added, “I’m on my way to New York for my own reasons.”
“Alright, alright”, Tommy mumbled, taking more ravioli, “I like your glasses by the way. Very dystopia-fashion. They really suit you.”
“Thank you?”, David said it more like a question, “I, um – They are prescription glasses. I’m not just wearing them to be cool, or whatever.”
“Okay”, Tommy shrugged and leaned closer towards the ravioli and David, feeling dark eyes behind tinted prescription glasses on him, “Hey, how old are you? I’m twenty-three.”
“Twenty-four”, David said, voice evening out now that they had moved away from the topic of his, probably, tragic backstory, “Did you go to uni pre-apocalypse?”
“Yeah, I did”, Tommy replied, swallowing a mouthful of ravioli, “I went to UCLA.”
“Ah”, David replied and Tommy was too preoccupied with eating to watch him continuously, sneaking glances at his mouth from time to time, “I went to UChicago. Applied Data Science.”
“Oh, so you’re, like, really smart?”, Tommy asked, raising one of his eyebrows and deciding to go easy on the rest of the ravioli, partially because he didn’t want to steal all of David’s food and partially because if he ate any faster he would probably throw everything up again, “I should’ve guessed.”
“Why?”, David asked, lazily spooning ravioli into his mouth.
“You used thus earlier”, Tommy shrugged and tried not to get too stuck on the image of David putting things into his mouth, “That’s a smart person word.”
“Is it?”, David asked, raising an eyebrow and using his spoon to point at Tommy, “What did you study?”
“Electrical Engineering”, Tommy replied, watched both of David’s eyebrows climb higher in his face, “I thought it’d make me more attractive to the job market before I figured out that I actually liked it. Why the face, David? Did you think I was into some humanities and culture shit?”
“A little”, David confessed, taking the can of ravioli to get the last of them out, “Easier to skip classes in the humanities, right?”
“Well, I wouldn’t know”, Tommy grinned, fumbling with his spoon, “My brother always went to his classes and he was a humanities major.”
“What did he study?”, David asked and Tommy regretted having brought up Billy, his insides twisting with the hole he’d left behind.
“American Lit”, Tommy said, after a pause, and gripped the spoon as tightly as he could, “The really boring stuff.”
“I heard the humanities majors get all the girls”, David said, like an aside, and Tommy had to inhale sharply because he’d said the same thing to his brother, way back when.
“He’s gay”, Tommy said, words tumbling out of his mouth like they always did, offering up bits and pieces of his life to people he barely knew in a desperate effort to create connection, “So that didn’t do much for him.”
“What, the humanities charm doesn’t work on boys?”, David asked smoothly, meeting Tommy’s gaze.
“Maybe”, Tommy replied, growing uncomfortable with the conversation revolving around Billy, making this ache of missing him unbearable, “My brother’s natural charm, if you want to call it that, didn’t work though. Bummer.”
“Yeah”, David repeated and put his spoon into the empty ravioli can, “Bummer.”
“Well”, Tommy said and let his spoon join David’s, “Thanks for dinner.”
“Yeah”, David said, brow wrinkled, watching Tommy as if he was trying to solve a puzzle, “This was surprisingly nice.”
“Nice enough for me to catch a few z’s?”, Tommy asked, drumming on his thighs with his fingers.
“Sure”, David said, picked up the empty can with their spoons and got up from his seated position on the floor, “I’ll take watch.”
“My, what a gentleman you are”, Tommy grinned and craned his neck to watch David walk over to the sink, eyes lingering on his thighs, “Don’t shoot me in my sleep.”
“I won’t”, David mumbled and turned on the sink, a gurgling sound filling the kitchen before water started to trickle out of the tap, his shadow almost reaching Tommy, “Promise.”
“Pinky promise?”, Tommy asked and stretched his hand out towards David, who graced him with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah, okay, Tommy”, he said after a pause, leaving the can and the spoons in the sink as he stretched his own hand out, interlinking his and Tommy’s pinkies, “Pinky promise.”
After David had cleaned their spoons Tommy roamed through the farmhouse with David in tow, eventually finding the primary bedroom and deciding that the sheets didn’t smell too bad. David told him to keep the door open and slumped against the outside wall of the room as Tommy struggled out of his holster and jumper to then dramatically flop onto the bed. The frame of the bed was made out of wood and creaked under Tommy’s weight and there was a tapestry hanging on the wall above the bed, detailed in its woven threads. Tommy didn’t spend too long looking at it because his mother used to have one of these in her bedroom, as well. The mattress squeaked and he could feel a few springs digging into his back but it was better than anything he’d slept on in the last month. There was a window in the room, blinds let down, the light washing in from outside interspersed with harsh lines of shadow. It didn’t take long for him to get pulled in the cosy space right before falling asleep, especially with the added security bonus of David. Who had pinky promised not to shoot him. Playing along surprisingly comfortably with the bullshit Tommy threw his way. Maybe Tommy could come up with some way for them to take the journey together, just so he wouldn’t have to be alone. Ideas were already half-forming in his brain when he fell asleep.
There were a few lights still blinking periodically, but not rhythmically, in the facade of Las Vegas. The air tasted like dust and plastic and ashes, the streets were barren, some buildings crumbled and others disassembled. Tommy had his hoodie pulled as far into his face as he could, pacing up and down in front of a shattered storefront. Billy was standing close, but not close enough, hands pushed deep into his blue jeans and rubbing the tip of his sneaker on the asphalt. He kept stealing glances towards Tommy, opening his mouth a few times to speak but never letting the words out. The lights of the city reflected in his brown eyes, endless and the exact same shape of Tommy’s. He took a step forward, closer to Tommy, and breathed in. His face was supposed to be just as sharp as Tommy’s but he was rounder, somehow, softer. Tommy couldn’t tell his freckles apart from the flecks of dirt that were decorating the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones.
“I have a gun”, Billy said eventually and pushed his jacket to the side as if to make a point of showing it to Tommy, which he probably was, “I know how to use it.”
“Yeah, yeah”, Tommy sighed, overdramatically, emotion that had been building for the entire day and their unsuccessful scavenging turning to anger, as it always did, stopping in his tracks, “You’re also so skinny that almost everyone who’s left could break you in the middle. Like a stick.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence”, Billy said and let his jacket fall closed again, fiddling with the silver hoop that was pierced through his ear, “Really appreciate it.”
“We’ve survived for so long because we stayed together”, Tommy bristled and stepped closer towards his twin and Billy started shrinking under his gaze.
“I’m not leaving”, Billy said, voice stumbling over the words as he tried to take stand in the face of Tommy’s anger, “I just think it would be quicker if we split up.”
“All this for some pain killers”, Tommy said, furrowing his brows and shaking his head, taking a shaky breath, “You’re being stupid.”
“I’m not”, Billy disagreed and started pushing his shoulders back, jutting his chin out, defiance, “I’m not just suggesting hitting the apothecary for pain killers, Tommy. Neither you nor me have been on our meds for weeks.”
“So?”, Tommy said, baring his teeth, “We’ve been doing fine.”
“Have we?”, Billy spat and now he was angry, just as angry as Tommy was, “You’ve been messing up all the time, Tommy. Losing the way, losing supplies, mixing up streets and places, forgetting things. I could go on.”
“The fuck, Billy”, Tommy said and stepped even closer to his twin, “I’ve been functioning just fine. You, on the other hand, have been so lost in your head that you –”
“Don’t do this”, Billy said, then, interrupting Tommy, and this was off-script, this hadn’t happened, “Don’t say things you don’t mean. I’ll be gone in just a few hours.”
The scenery started shifting around them, the artificial lights of Las Vegas burning brighter, unsettling Tommy with their yellow and orange hue, streaking out around them and swimming into the blue of the sky, turning it into a bruise. Billy’s eyes were still dark but they had become bottomless, the reflections gone from them, just eternal darkness. A void. Just like the one he was about to carve out of Tommy’s essence, the one they had created together with their petty fight. Tommy tasted something metallic at the back of his throat, felt as if his teeth were too sharp and too many to be contained by his mouth. Billy looked like his edges had been smudged, a pale imitation of the real boy, just an impression of the twin Tommy needed to be whole. Did he really look like this? Had he ever? Time and space had never been an obstacle for them, they had been next to each other ever since they’d started existing in their mother’s womb, so Tommy had never learned how to deal with this. This separation. To only have the memory of his brother instead of the breathing, living person.
“Then –”, Tommy started, the anger leaving him all at once as Billy slowly stepped backwards, a canyon opening up between them filled with stars, “Then don’t leave.”
“You made me leave”, Billy said and the street around them shuddered and warped until they were on a highway, a Van behind Billy, its motor rumbling, tail lights haloing the top of Billy’s head in red, the chasm opening up wider, “You always make everyone leave because you keep pushing people away.”
“Don’t leave”, Tommy said, a broken record, reaching out towards Billy, fingertips getting swallowed by crimson, his reach not far enough to extend over the abyss that was dividing them, “Don’t make me push you away.”
“It’s already happened, Tommy”, Billy said, hoarsely, and walked towards the Van, back turned to Tommy, lingering at the door of the vehicle, seemingly undisturbed by more and more of the street collapsing into the fissure, “You already did.”
He didn’t know for how long exactly he slept and David didn’t wake him up. Tommy just blinked a few times as he returned to the land of the awake. The barely alive. The ones who were left. He’d had a version of this dream ever since Billy had disappeared on him. He stretched his arms, then his legs, heard a pop sounding from his hipbone and sighed. David’s clothes rustled from outside of the door. Tommy scratched his stomach, lost in thought, relishing in the last moments on the mattress before he sat up. He pushed his half-bleached hair out of his face and pulled his legs closer, leaning over the edge of the bed to collect his jumper and holster, putting both of them on in a practised motion. The blue light was diluted, falling through the blinds of the farmhouse, dividing the entire room in streaks of black and azure. There was a full size mirror in the bedroom, caked with dust, and Tommy avoided it like the plague as he steadily walked towards the hallway. He looked at the back of his hand as he walked, intersected with the colours, and moved his fingers one by one to watch the light move across it. It reminded him a little bit of diving to the bottom of a pool, the movement and colouration of it. Way back when he’d had contests with Billy to see who could hold their breath the longest. He felt like they were still playing this game, now, miles apart from each other. He just hoped his brother wouldn’t run out of breath.
“I’m awake”, he said into the farmhouse at large, but mostly towards the open door, towards David.
“Sleep well?”, David asked from outside the room and Tommy rolled his eyes as he strolled through the open door to join him, sitting on the ground with his rifle between his legs, no light reaching him here, swallowed by shadow.
“Sure”, Tommy shrugged and met David’s gaze, steely and defiant and something had changed in his rigid posture, his face almost expectant, “What’s up?”
“What do you mean?”, David asked, grabbing his rifle tighter.
“You look like you made up your mind about something”, Tommy said, slowly, then took a step back, “Hopefully not about how you want to shoot me after all.”
“No”, David said and let his head bump against the wall, exposing his throat in the process, “And yes. As in, I’m not going to shoot you but I have made up my mind about something.”
“Which is?”, Tommy asked, still standing, looking down at David and the long line of his neck, the blue and black colour from the bedroom almost touching him, like it was trying to take him in with the next tide.
“I think”, David said and Tommy smiled at the words for reasons he couldn’t fully grasp, “We should stay together. I mean, I also need to go to New York.”
“And when you watched me sleep”, Tommy said, grinning across his entire face and watching with delight as he saw a hint of a blush darken David’s cheeks, “You thought to yourself, ‘Fuck, he’s so hot, I can’t let him get away’?”
“No”, David hastily said, shaking his head for emphasis, leaning forward and shortening the line of his neck, “I didn’t –”
“Relax, David”, Tommy laughed and knelt down next to him, their faces level with each other, letting himself be swallowed up by the shadow of the hallway, “It was a joke. And even if you did, I’d feel flattered, frankly.”
“Flattered?”, David repeated as a question, brows drawing together, eyes hidden behind orange glasses and darkness and caution.
“You”, Tommy said and used his finger to point at David, “Are hot, David. So, yeah, I’d feel flattered.”
“I made my decision based on our surprisingly pleasant conversation and the, truthfully, absurd levels of trust you’ve shown me despite you saying the opposite”, David said, then, after taking a shaky breath, “Not because you are attractive.”
“But you think I am”, Tommy grinned and there was something on his insides revelling at the fact of not having to be alone anymore, something that was essential to his very being, “Right?”
“Does it matter?”, David asked, pulling his rifle closer into the circle of his arms, “I want to travel with you. If you want to.”
“Oh, I want to”, Tommy said, leaning closer towards David and watching the blush spread, “And it matters. I don’t know about you but I haven’t seen much action since the world ended.”
“Let’s stop this train of thought of yours right here”, David said and made a motion as if to reach out and touch Tommy, but stopped himself at the last moment, “This is about both of us going where we need to while we protect each other.”
“Two attractive guys travelling through the post-apocalypse”, Tommy sighed and leaned back again, watched David’s eyes follow his motion, “What could possibly go wrong?”
“I hope that was a rhetorical question”, David replied and got up from the ground, slinging the rifle across his torso again and then, after consideration holding a hand out towards Tommy, “But there is safety in numbers.”
“Even if the number is two”, Tommy said, something stirring in the Billy-shaped hole again, grabbing David’s hand and letting himself be pulled up, “By the by – do you know the way?”
“Yes”, David said, slipping his hand out of Tommy’s grip, “We should fill up our supplies and be on our way.”
“You don’t want to sleep?”, Tommy asked, curious, as David started crossing the hallway back in the direction of the kitchen, Tommy on his heels, walking through the veins of cerulean light and opaque dimness that were extending from the bedroom.
“It’s fine”, David mumbled and Tommy watched the line of his shoulder grow more rigid, the light shifting across his back, “I can sleep later.”
“If you say so”, Tommy shrugged, stepping into the kitchen after David, the threads of shadow untangling to make space for the all encompassing ultramarine glow, and watching him approach the sink.
“I say so”, David declared and Tommy got the feeling that his new companion liked to have the last word just as much as he did.
They filled up their respective water supplies and roamed around the cabinets to draw out the last of the canned foods they could take before they decided to leave. Tommy pulled his bandana out of his back pocket before they stepped outside and David shot him a questioning look. Tommy didn’t say anything before he tied it around his face and David just rolled his eyes before pushing the door of the farmhouse open, leading both of them outside into the fields. The blue of the sky had turned dark, almost inky in its colour, and it had soaked everything. David pulled a map out of the pocket of his jacket then, unfolding it only partially and let his eyes roam over their surroundings before he started walking. Tommy grabbed the straps of his backpack and followed, his steps feeling lighter after the rest he had been granted. Yeah, this would turn out just fine. Except that pesky silence that hung around them like a blanket, making Tommy nervous with all the thoughts of his that wanted to take over his attention. But now, with company, he had the best possible distraction at his disposal. So Tommy fell into step next to David and started talking.
“I’ve never been to the East Coast”, Tommy said, to have something other than his legs moving, “Or New York. Do you think the Statue of Liberty is still intact? I mean, the only good thing about the apocalypse is that there’s no more queues for stuff.”
“A very positive outlook on the end of the world you got there, Tommy”, David said, his map already pushed back into his pocket, a creased edge still visible, “I don’t know if I’ll have time to visit it when we arrive but you should.”
“What, hey, David come on!”, Tommy laughed, using his hands to make a grand gesture and watching David out of the corner of his eye, “If we both actually do make it to the city that never sleeps we have to indulge! As a treat!”
“No promises”, David mumbled but Tommy could see that he was halfway to a smile, plump lips curling upwards, “And no pinky promises either.”
“Can you read minds with your superbrain?”, Tommy asked, grinning beneath his bandana and pushing his elbow into David’s side, earning him a raised eyebrow and a smile that was three-quarters there.
“I’m good at pattern recognition”, David said, coolly, and looked away from Tommy, profile stark against the backdrop of the gloomy field, “That’s all.”
“Still impressive”, Tommy said and let his arms move with the rest of his body, feeling his sneakers starting to grow damp again, grass or weeds or whatever reaching up to his calves, “Never thought of myself as someone whose patterns could be recognised.”
“You’re certainly a challenge”, David said, moving through the high reaching vegetation with ease, and there was the smile, fully, stretching across his mouth and making him look even more handsome, “But nothing my superbrain couldn’t figure out.”
“Boy, am I lucky to have you by my side”, Tommy grinned and grabbed the straps of his backpack again, “This journey is gonna be a breeze with you leading the way, I just know it.”
“I hope you’re right”, David sighed, but he was still smiling.