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Ray didn't know how many miles in they were at this point. If he really thought about it, did a little math, asked around, he would have the answer, but he couldn't be fucked to think about it long enough. There were only a few left. Around nine or ten. For now. Everything was "for now." Every second, every breath, every step was impermanent. Out of all of these living, breathing people, very soon only one would stand. Yes, every moment mattered, including this one, but Ray couldn't help but feel the hopeless terror clawing at his chest and worming its way through his ribs into his heart.
But again, Ray couldn't be fucked to think about it. All he could think about in this moment was Pete.
Bright, beautiful Pete, who didn't deserve to be caught in the spiderweb that is the Long Walk. Who, two nights before, had kissed him and promised if Ray could just keep walking, he would walk right alongside him forever. An empty promise, they both knew it, but it got Ray through the night, and isn't that what mattered now? Just getting through the night?
So he kept walking. Sometimes he counted their steps, sometimes he started or joined in conversations, and sometimes, like now, he thought. And right now, Ray was thinking about Pete.
He was thinking about how he would never take Pete home to meet his mother. He would never sit down for a real dinner with him, never go grocery shopping with him, never slip into bed and curl around Pete like two halves to a heart rejoining. Maybe in another life they would have met at university. Maybe they would have studied together, and celebrated together after every passed test, and graduated hand in hand.
Ray knows they would have met each other, even if not for the Walk. It seems ridiculous, even laughable to consider otherwise. They would have met, and in another life or timeline they would have lived a long, sappy life together. But not in this one. In this one, they were doomed to the Walk, and at the end of it, one or both of them would be dead.
There would be no university meet-cutes, no family dinners, no growing old together. It was undeniable. They wouldn't even get married.
For some reason, that thought strikes Ray harder than the others and he stumbles out of his steady pace, earning a warning.
Warning! Number 47, first warning!
As the voice rings out, Pete looks back at him in a panic and quickly wraps an arm around his shoulders to pull him against his side. Like he could protect Ray from a ticket if he has his hands on him. Oh, Peter McVries, what have I done to deserve you?
Pete eyes him, his feet never loosing rhythm against the harsh blacktop as he turns his head to look at him. "Everything alright up there, compadre?"
Ray barely has time to breathe before the words are rushing out of him. "Let's get married."
The man beside him let's out a gentle laugh. It's not mean spirited, never his Pete, just amused. Ray can hear a twinge of sorrow in there too.
"I'm not sure now's the time for something like that, darlin'." Pete sweeps his free hand to gesture to the long stretch of road, the broken boys among them, the tanks rolling alongside them. Ray shakes his head hurriedly, desperate for Pete to understand like he always does. He always understands, and he needs to now.
"No, Pete, I'm serious. Lets get married," he runs a hand through his dirty hair and over his face. "I just- I can't stand the thought of…" He trails off, breath catching in his throat as he clamps his mouth shut and shakes his head. He can see Pete looking at him in his peripheral and turns his head to meet his gaze. He's looking at him with a soft, sad smile. There's a stretch of silence where they just look at each other before Pete nods, quick and decisive.
"Okay. Okay, Ray, let's have a wedding."
Ray laughs in relief and brings his head to press against Pete's. Pete laughs too, sweet as sugar. There's no wedding cake on the Walk, but no cake could be as sweet as his laugh, so Ray doesn't mind too much.
Pete leans head away and looks over his shoulder to Art, Olson, and Stebbins behind them.
"Ya hear that, boys? We're getting hitched!" Pete's voice is so full of joy and enthusiasm that Ray can't help but laugh again.
There's no shouts of slurs or disgust like Ray once would have worried about. There's no use for discrimination in Hell. Instead, there's whoops of approval, whistles, applause. The few boys behind them- Ray, regrettably, doesn't know their names- nod and smile and cheer kindly. Stebbins even lifts a weak fist into the air. He might be smiling.
Barkovitch turns around and walks backwards, the news clearly catching his attention. He's scowling a bit.
"How're you gonna have a wedding out here?" He, like Pete, gestures to their surroundings. Parker glances at Barkovitch, then at Ray, and keeps walking. "You don't even have an officiant."
Pete laughs, loud and boisterous. It's contagious, and Ray can't help but laugh along with him.
"So uncreative, Barko. I'd say any man here could do the honors," Pete turns his head to look behind him again. His smile is bright enough to blind Ray. "Any takers?"
Ray hears Art's voice behind him. "I'd love to. I've been around many a wedding, so I know a bit about the procedures of one."
Ray grins and turns his head. "That'd be great man, thank you."
Art smiles too, bright and gentle like the winter sun. God, Ray is glad he's still here with them.
"You'll need something to exchange," Art says, wringing his hands. "I don't suppose either of you have rings?"
Ray shakes his head and laughs a little. "It escaped my mind when I was packing." He runs a finger down the chain of his dog tags and over the metal number carved into the tag. He meets Pete's eyes, a silent question.
Pete smiles and reaches up to pull his tag over his head, fumbling a little with one hand. He rests the metal number in his palm. Ray, honestly, wishes he had rings. He wishes he could have a proper wedding somewhere beautiful instead of on the road. He wishes he could give Pete these things.
He hates the thought of using something from the Walk for something like this. Using the tags numbering them like cattle for their wedding makes his heart twist painfully. But, at the same time, isn't it sweet to turn it into something beautiful?
It's not perfect, but it was never going to be. Ray pulls his tag over his head and turns the metal plate over and over in his palm. It's not shiny. It doesn't catch the sunlight. It'll do.
Art is still smiling as he runs a little bit ahead of them and turns to walk backwards. This far in the Walk, they can do it seamlessly without getting a warning.
Olson and Stebbins and the rest of the boys behind them walk a little faster to get closer and Parker turns to walk backwards along side Barkovitch. Wouldn't want to miss a wedding.
"You folks ready?" Art says, voice changing like he's speaking to a large crowd, like he's playing a character. He laughs a little.
Ray doesn't need to think. Ready? Of course he's ready. He nods and smiles, smiles and nods.
"No moment like the present," Pete says, and Rays heart could burst with how much love he feels for him right now.
Art nods kindly, and the ceremony begins. Ray can almost imagine it. He can imagine somewhere beautiful and peaceful, with his mother crying in the front row. He and Pete are safe, and all of their friends are there. He can pretend that's where he is, instead of the Walk. He wishes it were real.
If wishes were fishes, we'd never go hungry. That's what his mother would say if she were here right now. Ray eyes the camera pointed their way. He wonders if she's watching. He hopes she is.
"Today, we are gathered to join Pete McVries and Ray Garraty in the bonds of matrimony. Marriage is a beautiful tradition of partnership, trust, and dependence on one another to navigate life. Marriage takes work, commitment, and sacrifice, and I'm not lying when I say that is what both of these men have demonstrated in the time they have known each other."
Pete let's go of Rays shoulder to grasp his hand. Ray looks at him and squeezes gently. Ray wouldn't admit it, but he could feel tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. If Pete notices, he doesn't say anything, only smiles and turns back to face Art.
"Ray, do you take Pete to be your wedded husband? From this moment forward, to have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"
Ray feels his face heat as an overwhelming smile spreads across his face. He turns to meet Pete's eyes. The look he's giving him only makes his face hotter and he nods again and again and again. "I do."
The words feel like a weight dropping from his shoulders, and he can breathe freely again.
Art turns his attention on Pete, but Pete doesn't look away. He just keeps on staring with that beautiful smile and a look in his eyes like Ray hung the moon and stars.
"And do you, Pete, take Ray to be your wedded husband? From this moment forward, to have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"
Pete laughs joyfully, like his body can't contain all the emotion he feels and he needs to release it into the world. "I do."
Rays so happy he could cry. Maybe he already is. He wants nothing more than to rush forward and kiss his Pete, but he knows he must wait.
There's happiness audible in Arts voice as he speaks. "Alright then. You may now exchange your tags, and vows if you wish."
Pete leans forward and whispers against the shell of his ear. "You go first."
Ray swallows thickly and untangles their fingers. He grasps the chain with both hands and brings it up and over Pete's head. He smooths a hand over the metal plate so the 47 is facing the world, and leaves his palm there over the metal and Pete's chest. He swallows again.
"Alright uhm.." He pauses and smiles self deprecatingly. "Well, I didn't have anything prepared, but I'll try my best."
He can feel Pete's heartbeat under his palm.
"Pete… You’ve always been there for me. You’ve always saved me from danger and held me up when you could have let me fall. You’ve given me so much."
Ray sniffles and brings his free hand to wipe hurriedly at his cheeks. Pete's smile is soft and beautiful. His heart aches.
"I wish I could give you beautiful things. I wish I could give you a true wedding, with a grand hall and as many guests as we want. I wish we could both survive this, and I could love and keep you until the sun explodes. But I can’t. All I can give you now is this tag, my hand to hold, and a shoulder to keep you standing while you sleep. And maybe a kiss too." The boys around him laugh and whistle, and he lets out a huff of breath that could be a chuckle or a sob. "But maybe that’s all that matters right now.”
Pete's smiling so wide that his eyes are squinty. He's wringing his hands and running his thumbs over the chain of his tag.
"Your turn," he whispers.
Pete gently brings the chain over his head, making sure it doesn't get caught on his ears or nose. He runs his fingers down his neck and over his clavicle before dropping one hand and bringing the other to cover Rays where is rests over his chest.
"Ray," he begins, voice hushed, only as loud as needed to project to the boys around them. "I would take anything you would give me. Even if that was nothing, I would still take it."
He pauses, stroking his thumb over the back of Rays hand. It makes his face burn.
"I've told you every moment matters, and I mean that. Every moment spend with you is a moment well spent. Ray, you are true to your name. The suns shine is shameful in comparison to yours."
Ray brings a hand to cover his eyes, blushing furiously and laughing. Pete laughs too, pulling his hand away and bumping their foreheads together.
"You say that I saved you, but you keep me on my feet no matter how much I want to sit down. Ray Garraty, you saved me. I cant wait to spend the rest of my life with you."
Ray knows his face is wet with tears, but he can't bring himself to care anymore. The rest of their life, no matter how short, is devoted to each other.
"Ever the poet, Pete," he murmurs, bringing a kiss to the back of his hand. Pete shrugs humbly, a grin on his face.
"Well now, Pete and Ray, having having proclaimed your love and commitment to one another, and with the power vested in me by- well, the Long Walk, I suppose- I am delighted to pronounce you husbands! You may kiss!"
And they do. They surge forward at the same time, pressing their lips together as best as they can while still walking. Their noses bump and their teeth clack, buts it's all background information because his husband is kissing him.
The boys around them cheer and whistle and clap. He hears Barkovitch fake retch, but it only makes him smile harder.
There's hands at his waist and suddenly he's being lifted into the air and spun around. He breaks away, rushing to clutch at Pete's (his husband) shoulders and laughing.
The warnings interrupt them.
Warning! Number 23, first warning!
Warning! Number 47, second warning!
Pete only laughs, setting him back down and quickly returning them to a safe pace. His hand still on his waist.
"Pete! Don't be stupid for me."
"Hush. I'm already stupid for you. It'll only cost me an hour."
Ray only blushes and shakes his head.
Olson comes up behind them and claps a hand down on both of their shoulders.
"Congratulations you two!" He's grinning, livelier than he has been in days. Ray grins back and thanks him. Olson runs to catch up to Art, who's smiling warmly at them. Congratulations, he says.
Ray wraps an arm around Pete's waist and fists the back of his shirt in his hand. He turns his head, pressing kisses to his shoulder and neck, over the chain of his dog tags.
The metal numbers thump against their chests with each step.
47 and 23, 23 and 47 interchangeable, intertwined. Two halves of one heart, rejoining.