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Garraty’s eyes were on fire. When was the last time he had slept? A few hours? It felt more like days. Maybe even years. His eyelids felt so heavy and were drooping so badly he thought he’d pass out right there. The only thing keeping him awake was the spike of pain that shot through his body from somewhere in the foot—it was impossible to tell exactly where at this point—through his spine every time he stepped.
“Hey, Pete?”
Ray murmured as he gently shook the other boy awake. He felt a pang of sympathy for interrupting his friend’s sleep, but Ray couldn’t keep it up forever.
“Can I sleep for a while?”
He hoped he wouldn’t have to repeat himself. Ray was sure his words were slurred and drawn out with how tired he was. He would certainly lose if he kept walking in this state. Luckily, Mcvries allowed Ray to get some rest.
Garraty expected to dream about Jan, his mother, hell, maybe even Mcvries. Despite these expectations, an image of Stebbins, of all people, began to form as Ray drifted off. He was blurry and distant at first—mumbling something about rabbits and dogs. Even in dreams, Stebbins made Ray’s blood boil. Garraty wanted to punch him. Ray wanted to kick the confusing blond boy until he stopped blabbering on about rabbits or donkeys, until he had finally wiped that smug grin off Stebbins’s face. God, he hated Stebbins. So, why was he dreaming of him? Garraty wanted to see Jan just one more time, even if it was in a dream. Was that too much to ask? What could he have done that was so bad that he had to be punished like this?
Ray walked over to the blond and sat beside him. His feet still ached—of course he still had to endure such pains even in “rest”—but those sharp pains he felt when he was awake felt distant and softened. He wondered if Stebbins was hurting too; he wondered if the immortal weak-looking boy felt the same pain he did. Surely not.
Ray would’ve liked to punch him right then and there. He’d find more joy in that than anything or anyone else could bring him—maybe besides Jan. No, not even Jan could bring that. Ray unfortunately found himself resting against Stebbins, slumping his head onto the boy’s shoulder and closing his eyes. Ray knew Stebbins held that smug grin and expected some sort of mockery, but nothing came. Not a word. Garraty listened to the other’s breathing. He would hurt Stebbins like he planned to later, but he wanted to stay like that for just a little while. He found pleasure in the blond’s presence (as much as he hated to admit it).
. . .
Mcvries woke him up. He must’ve been tired like Ray was earlier. Garraty had no clue how long he had dozed off for.
He instinctively gazed back at Stebbins, but snapped his head away when the boy locked eyes with him.
“Have a nice dream, Garraty?”
Garraty didn’t respond. He felt his cheeks heat up as he recalled it, but he blamed it on the temperature when Pete asked. Ray felt Stebbins, somehow, knew he dreamt of him, and he didn’t want to even look at the boy, let alone speak to him. Ray tightened his arm around Mcvries. Stebbins didn’t press any further. They walked on.