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The hospital hallway was almost blindingly monochromatic and very sterile. It smelled sterile, it looked sterile, literally everything about it was sterile. People rushed around, going in and out of doors, and, not for the first time, Jonnie wondered to himself how he got in so easily. He almost wished he was stopped. Maybe if he was he wouldn't have to do what he was about to do.
Jonnie scanned the numbers on the doors, looking for the number the lady at the reception had told him. It was easy to make her think that he was a nervous son who had just gotten horrible news. It would've been harder to make her think that he was totally fine. His thoughts wouldn't stop going in circles in his head, thinking about Big Jimmy in the park, thinking about the park ranger who's probably close bleeding out, thinking about the gun barely concealed in the waistband of his jeans.
Why was he here? Why couldn't he just leave?
Because then you'd get in trouble.
Jonnie didn't care if he got in trouble. He probably deserved it anyway.
Well then, because Big Jimmy would get in trouble.
That thought made Jonnie pause. It was his fault they got in with the mafia in the first place. Big Jimmy shouldn't have to deal with the consequences. And Jonnie was the one who was supposed to be keeping lookout. If only he had done his FUCKIN' JOB-
Calm down, Jonnie. Keep walking. One foot in front of the other. Yeah, like that.
Room numbers passed by quickly. 213, 215, 217… 219!
Fuck, now Jonnie couldn't avoid it any longer. He was actually going to have to do this. How long had his hands been shaking? Did he ever not feel nauseous? He'd never killed someone before, could he even do it?
Taking a deep breath, Jonnie grasped the handle and opened the door. The cold metal seeped into his hands, making his finger tips feel as though they'd fall off. Jonnie lifted his head an gazed into the room. It was… plain. Not all too surprising. Not enough time had passed for the park ranger's loved ones to be able to arrive to see him to give him flowers or cards or whatever people give loved ones in the hospital. Not that they'd ever see him alive again.
stop Stop STOP
PLEASE JUST STOP
Jonnie closed the door behind him and walked over to the bed, legs feeling more like jello than like muscle and bone. He peered over to the figure lying in it. The man was asleep. Thank goodness.
What if he wasn't? What would you have done?
Jonnie wasn't sure. Probably shoot him all the same. He had a job to do, and this time he wouldn't fuck it up.
The blankets over the man rose and fell gently as he breathed. He looked… peaceful. He probably wouldn't be that peaceful if he knew what was about to happen.
Jonnie's hands started shaking again. Or they were still shaking, he couldn't remember if they ever stopped. He reached behind him and grabbed the handle of the gun.
How had no one noticed the gun?
He should probably consider himself lucky that no one stopped him in the hallway, but Jonnie couldn't find himself to be anything other than scared. Why was he the scared one? He shouldn't be scared. No one was about to shoot him.
Jonnie lifted the gun up, pointed at the man. He was going to do this. He had to. There was no other option.
He gripped the gun tighter, willing his hands to stop shaking.
Once the gun was level, Jonnie contracted his finger, pulling the trigger and-
B L A M
Jonnie hated hospitals. Before… well, everything, Jonnie was neutral towards them, but now he could say for certain that he absolutely hated hospitals.
Now he was sitting in a very familiar hospital room, right by the bed. In the bed, however, was not the park ranger as it had been before. Instead it was the very familiar figure of Big Jimmy. The very much alive figure of Big Jimmy.
He could be dead.
Yeah, but he isn't.
As if hearing Jonnie's thoughts, Big Jimmy tightened his grip on Jonnie's hand, groaning as he returned to the land of the awake.
"Big Jimmy!" Jonnie exclaimed, standing up to get a better look at him, "Don't strain yourself now. Keep still."
He was standing over the hospital bed, reaching back to grab the gun tucked into his waistband and-
No.
He was with Big Jimmy. Not with the park ranger.
Jonnie's knees crumbled beneath him, and he landed harshly in his chair.
"-nie! Jonnie!" Big Jimmy's voice slowly but surely broke through the haze surrounding Jonnie's mind. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry yourself over me." Jonnie batted the air away from him, putting on a show of ease.
It didn't work. Even with hand gestures, Jonnie couldn't successfully lie to Big Jimmy. They knew each other too well for that.
"Jonnie," Big Jimmy said seriously, leveling his gaze with Jonnie's, "tell me what's wrong."
Jonnie hesitated, then suddenly turned his head, breaking Big Jimmy's gaze.
"I killed a man, Jimmy. He was lyin' asleep in this bed and I shot him. He didn't do nuthin'. And I shot him."
The words came tumbling out of Jonnie's mouth and he couldn't do anything to stop them. Tears flowed freely from his eyes, falling from his cheeks onto Big Jimmy's bed, creating dark circles in the white sheets. Big Jimmy grabbed Jonnie's hand and squeezed.
"I know, Jonnie, I know. It wasn't your fault, though."
"Yes it was, Big Jimmy. Who's elses fault would it've been?"
"Grandpa Albert? He's the one you was workin for."
"Yeah, but he didn't give me the order to kill the guy. I did that of my own agency. I did. Me."
"Sure, but if you wasn't workin for him, would you have killed him?"
"No, of course not!"
"Then it wasn't your fault. You was protecting yourself. And me."
A new wave of tears surfaced in Jonnie's eyes, and he curled over to lay his head on Big Jimmy's stomach. Sobs tore their way out of Jonnie's throat, violent, suddering things that Jonnie couldn't seem to control.
"I didn't want to. We was never supposed to get in so deep," Jonnie said, voice barely audible through his tears and Big Jimmy's stomach.
"Hey there, I know. I know, Jonnie," Big Jimmy consoled, rubbing Jonnie's back soothingly, "We's okay now. Nothin' is gonna make us go back. We's free, Jonnie.
Free."