Work Text:
Everybody knows about it when Gary Smith returns to Bullworth. Not that it appeared to be any kind of secret, what with him just strolling onto school grounds with a suitcase and a blank faced probation officer.
It may not be a secret, but it’s definitely a surprise. It seems almost out of the blue that he reappears two months into sophomore year, a short five months after he got sent away in the first place, and nobody is expecting to see him back on academy property this soon after being shipped away to Happy Volts.
They certainly don’t expect him to be readmitted back into school like nothing ever happened. Like he hadn’t lost his shit and nearly conquered a private school in a small town in New Hampshire, but that’s what happens.
There’s a lot of gossip floating around the school that day, both between the students and the teachers. It’s how you know that whatever’s going on is a big deal.
Gary and his probation officer spend the entirety of the school day in Crabblesnitch’s office. They know because Christy checks in between classes – and several times during – and reports back to Mandy and Pinky. There’s no question of why everyone else knows after that.
All eyes are on Jimmy. They’re on the edge of their seats wondering how he’s going to react to the situation. What he’s going to do if the rumors are true and Gary really is coming back to Bullworth as a student. Their excitement makes it evident how calm things have been since the boy left. Things get too idle and suddenly everyone is begging for a blood bath.
Jimmy doesn’t really care about all of that though.
What he does care about is how sad Pete looks. How fidgety he gets between Christy’s check-ins, lip biting and anxious door checking included. He’s a nervous kid regardless, but it’s obvious that Gary’s return is getting to him.
The release bell signals two hundred kids simultaneously spilling from classrooms to the front office only to be shooed away by Danver’s vague threats of giving them a reason to stay after school. Jimmy takes that time while everyone is scattering to pull Petey into the corner between the lockers and the office so that they can talk without being overheard.
The last thing he wants is people adding this conversation as a piece to the puzzle fueled by their gossip and assuming that they’re plotting to jump Gary or something equally as crazy and bullshit.
“Hey, are you okay? I know this is freaky for you, but you know Crabblesnitch. If we tell him you can’t be around Gary, they’ll move him to a different room or something. Kick him out again, if we’re lucky. We’ll work it out,” Jimmy promises after the last of the stragglers have made their way out.
Pete stares back at him blankly for a moment, seemingly lost in thought before he shakes his head.
“I wonder if Gary’s okay?” Pete asks, and Jimmy is blindsided by the question.
“If Gary is-Pete! Who the fuck cares if Gary is okay? Have you lost your mind?” he demands, resisting the urge to shake the other boy. Pete is, as always, on an entirely different page than Jimmy assumed. “Have you completely forgotten what happened less than six months ago?”
Pete shifts awkwardly, wrapping his arms around himself in comfort.
“Exactly. Almost six months. In Happy Volts, that’s like a lifetime,” the boy mumbles, eyes lacking focus. He turns his attention back to Jimmy, lower lip trapped between his teeth. “Johnny was in a lower security block last year, and Lola was saying he still has nightmares about it.”
Jimmy shakes head, annoyed.
“So what, that’s Johnny. He’s paranoid.” Which is true, and Jimmy has no doubts Johnny’s nightmares are a product of his own paranoia rather than his short experience in the asylum.
Pete sighs, grasping for a way to make his point.
“Gary was in block C. And C is…scary,” he insists, eying the archway to the front office. It’s as still and empty as it has been since the building cleared out, but the younger boy is more anxious than he has been all day.
He’s waiting, Jimmy realizes. It’s not fear for himself or the idea of having to face Gary but impatience to see him. Something about that pisses Jimmy off more than anything that’s happened since he got here.
“Since when do you know anything about what happens at Happy Volts?” Jimmy dismisses.
“When we were in middle school, I think sixth grade? Our history teacher took us on a field trip to Happy Volts as some sort of…comparison to medieval health care. It was a bullshit excuse and he wasn’t actually supposed to, but he was a little on the crazy side himself.”
Jimmy goes to interrupt, silenced by a particularly vicious look he didn’t think Pete capable of.
“He snuck us out of the building in the morning after everyone had settled in class,” Pete continues. It’s obvious by the look on his face that he doesn’t think Jimmy is taking him serious enough. “Even the orderlies were anxious about letting us in, but he was really insistent about the educational benefits of us getting a first hand experience of a mental institution, so they agreed as long as we stayed in a group and we didn’t leave the A and B blocks.”
“He didn’t listen?” Jimmy ventures. Pete shakes his head, averting his eyes.
“He didn’t listen. We ended up in C block. The school found out before the orderlies did. It was a huge deal; the school tried to sue Happy Volts and Happy Volts tried to sue the school, but they eventually came to an agreement behind closed doors so we’re not really sure what happened.”
“That’s so…fucked up,” Jimmy says, unable to help himself.
He doesn’t know what else to say, if there is anything else. It’s not surprising; it sounds exactly like the kind of shit a teacher at Bullworth would pull.
“He got fired obviously, the school doesn’t take getting sued lightly, but it…just- the screams. They were awful. C block is for physically violent inmates so they don’t get yard time or free roam of the building like the ones in A and B.”
Jimmy shrugs, cursing Pete’s ability to sympathize with every situation.
“So he got extended time out for being a crazy asshole. He’s not going to be emotionally scarred from it.”
Pete scoffs. He shifts, annoyance rolling off him in waves that leave Jimmy wondering if he’s really just not getting the point. They’ve never had a serious conversation about Gary since he left. It occurs to Jimmy that he didn’t actually understand the relationship between the two, having drawn conclusions based on Gary’s bullying and Pete’s willingness to help him last year.
“The orderly who eventually came to get us said that the screaming is a constant thing. That there’s always at least a couple of them screaming at any given time. It’s just non-stop, locked away in a concrete block with cages, like you’re an animal,” Pete hisses.
“Pete-”
“Five minutes in C block is hell, Jimmy. Five minutes. Almost six months…who knows what that does to a person. That’s not time out.”
Jimmy swallows, crossing his arms. It’s not that he refuses to take Pete’s word, it’s just that he can’t imagine this much concern for Gary Smith is valid. He’s been in Happy Volts, and while it certainly wasn’t sunshine and rainbows and smiling orderlies, it wasn’t hell. Not like Pete was describing.
He’s cut off from responding by voices coming from the office. They both turn and Jimmy notes that Pete perks up considerably from the angry tenseness he’d held while they were talking.
“I’m glad we could come to an agreement, Mr. Smith. I’m certain we won’t be running into anymore problems from you. Oh no, Mr. Smith. I’d say that you’ve had all the naughtiness cleansed from you,” Crabblesnitch says as the group comes into view.
Jimmy cringes. Crabblesnitch has a way of talking about things that, despite being totally sincere in their innocence, feel like they hold a note of something else entirely. Although, Crabblesnitch might be the only one at the school that doesn’t mean it that way.
There’s no reply from Gary which Jimmy finds shocking from everything he’s come to know of Gary. He expects a smart remark or even a noise of pointed disinterest, but there’s nothing.
His probation officer lays a gentle hand on his shoulder that causes him to flinch. Jimmy can’t see his face, but the boy’s body language says it all. Not exactly stiff, but unresponsive.
“Come on, Gary. We’ll get you set up before I go. You’re in the same room as last year. That’ll be nice, right? Familiarity is always good when it comes to readjusting,” the woman suggests softly, sighing when Gary remains silent.
She apparently takes his unresponsiveness as a sign to lead him out of the building, practically pushing at his shoulders with her fingers, like she’s afraid of having too much contact. Jimmy wonders about that.
Crabblesnitch watches them go with a self-satisfied grin before he notices the two of them in the corner.
“You there!” he yells, “Get out; school is over!”
They don’t need to be told twice, sprinting down the stairs and out of the building. No one needs an excuse to get as far away from the headmaster as possible. They can hear him shouting as the door swings closed.
“And no running! This is a prestigious school, not a barnyard!”
—
Despite Pete’s apparent eagerness to check on Gary, the short walk back to the boy’s dorm is leisure. He considers saying something to break the silence, something to offer the other boy to make the situation easier, but he’s left at a loss.
Jimmy doesn’t have all the answers, and as much as he likes to think otherwise, he doesn’t have full control of the town. He’s sixteen, and sometimes things are out of his hands. That lack of control is annoying.
Boys are crowded around the open door of Pete’s room, but no one’s daring to move any closer. They’re all mumbling about Bullworth’s ‘newest’ addition, and Jimmy can practically feel Pete’s surge of distaste for their ability to treat Gary like a zoo animal.
Even Jimmy has to admit it doesn’t sit well with him.
He’s not so much of a coward as the rest of the boys though, and he has no qualms about storming into the room to eye Gary sitting on the bed, his suitcase untouched on the floor beside him.
“You have a lot of nerve,” he starts, gearing up for the verbal sparring match he’s come to expect from Gary. It’s almost fun, in a way.
“We can’t do this right now,” Gary interrupts, sounding off. Jimmy doesn’t know how to phrase it. It’s not disinterest; he knows the tone the older boy uses when he doesn’t care about the conversation at hand. This isn’t it. This isn’t anything.
Jimmy crosses his arms, cocking an eyebrow in challenge. He sounds bored, and not in the way he does when he’s trying to rile you up. Inconvenienced almost, and Jimmy doesn’t feel he has a right to that sort of attitude when he’s the one coming back into their lives after everything he did to screw them over.
“Why’s that?” he sneers, daring Gary to give him a good reason.
Gary doesn’t even have the balls to look at him, and that pisses Jimmy off more than anything. This isn’t how it’s suppose to go down. These aren’t Gary’s lines in the back and forth banter they developed in months of going at each other’s throats. This isn’t right.
To be honest, Jimmy isn’t entirely sure what Gary’s looking at with that far off look in his eyes.
Gary huffs, but even that seems half-assed and unenthused. It’s the not dramatics he remembers, and he doesn’t understand what’s changed. He’s here in the moment, but it’s obvious that Gary’s somewhere else.
“Because, Hopkins. I am so fucked up on drugs right now, I probably won’t remember this tomorrow,” Gary answers.
If Jimmy’s being honest, this is a whole lot freakier than when Gary was freaking out from the lack of medication in his system. At least then, the kid cared. Too much and about the wrong things, but a connection existed.
“What?” Jimmy says stupidly, not knowing how else to respond.
“Drugs. Lots and lots and lots of drugs,” Gary explains, eyes focusing suddenly on Jimmy. “Hey, are you going to try to beat my head into the pavement? Cause you should do it now. I’m interested to know if I’d feel it or if I’d need the blood to tell me I was dying.”
And that’s the dramatic flair he expects from Gary, but it’s not the same. It doesn’t have the same feeling behind it. It’s pathetic.
“Um…” Jimmy hums, stalling for a response.
“Gary?” Pete calls, small and cautious.
Gary turns his attention from Jimmy to Petey suddenly, as if he’s shocked and hadn’t noticed that Pete was standing next to Jimmy the whole time. Part of Jimmy, a small part pressing sharply at his mind, wonders if he didn’t.
“You two are boning,” the older boy accuses or asks or something. Jimmy can’t tell.
Pete flushes, glancing at the ceiling to hide it.
“What? Why would you even assume that?” Jimmy grumbles, unsure of why the accusation bothers him so much. There’s nothing wrong with Pete, Jimmy’s pretty fond of him and…well.
The situation is clearly spiraling out of control despite its subdued appearance.
“Just a guess. Why not? You should give it a try. Seems like a good idea. Nobody else is going to want you two; you’re damaged,” Gary insists, nodding along in agreement to his own statement.
Jimmy hisses, outraged more for Pete’s sake than his own.
“Excuse me? We’re damaged? Fuck you, Smith! Have you taken a look in the mirror lately? Nobody else here is doped out on drugs so they can be enrolled back into a school where everyone hates them for the exact reason they’re on drugs. You don’t have room to talk about being damaged, you little bitch.”
“Jimmy,” Pete mumbles, wringing his hands.
“Jimmy,” Gary mocks, a sham of what it should be. Like he can’t be bothered to try. Like it’s too much, and Jimmy doesn’t know much about being on anything close to what they could have Gary on, but it’s a very real possibility that Gary just can’t.
“Listen to your boyfriend, Pete. He’s just trying to save you from the big, bad, mean sociopath spouting lies and deception. We wouldn’t want you to remember how utterly miserable you really are by yourself.”
“Stop it, Gary,” Pete demands, harsh and watery.
Jimmy can feel the eyes of every other boy in the dorm cutting into his back. He’d forgotten about them, but he knows now that they must be putting on a show. It’s not every day you get to witness the dynamic between Jimmy Hopkins and Gary Smith.
Today’s not that day either. This isn’t right.
Gary smiles, and it’s so so wrong. Not cruel. It’s painful, like it’s there by Gary’s best efforts at pushing through whatever haze he’s in. The effort of all the pleasure he’s getting from getting under Pete’s skin.
“I know why they scream now,” he answers, and it’s all that needs to be said for Pete to push through the crowd of boys, shrieking his displeasure about Gary’s presence back in their lives.
Pete manages to knock into Gary’s probation officer on his way out, and she watches with a concerned eye as he leaves, turning to her charge with a look of annoyed accusation.
“What did you do? Are you already causing problems?” she asks, unimpressed.
“You know me, a social butterfly,” Gary mumbles, hand held out expectantly for the pile of papers she’s holding. His schedule, Jimmy assumes. Probably some legal agreements as well.
“You have to behave,” she chastises, sighing. “Listen, take your medication twice a day at the nurse’s office. Once before class, once before dinner. You don’t show up at those times and I get called back. You do, we’ll see about lowering the dose and allowing you control of administering them again. Are we clear?”
Gary rolls his eyes.
“I’m not going to graduate,” he tells her as if it’s a well known fact.
“That’s not the attitude to have,” she dismisses, finally handing him the paperwork but she looks less than pleased with his response.
“Lady, you don’t know shit,” Gary growls, and Jimmy hates to admit it, but he’s pretty sure Gary’s right. Bullworth isn’t exactly a breeding ground of optimism and progress. To throw a kid back into it and expect results is ridiculous.
She ignores him, shaking her head while she collects her briefcase. It just showcases that she doesn’t really care about what happens to him as much as her soft tone and placating words suggests. Gary Smith is just another problem child lost in the system for her to deal with.
Jimmy wonders if he’ll end up taking his meds just to keep her off his back.
“Twice a day,” she repeats. “I don’t want to have to make another trip out here for nothing.”
As she leaves, Jimmy wonders if what she really means is that Gary is nothing.
Just like that, Gary’s left alone in a building with boys who would love nothing more than to see him fail again and again, even more so if it were at their hand.
“What the hell happened to you?” Jimmy asks, unable to mask his disgust. At the situation more than Gary himself, but the other boy doesn’t need to know that.
Something in Gary breaks at the question, he can see it in his eyes, but Gary’s curling into himself facing the wall before Jimmy has time to really process it.
“Don’t you know, Hopkins? This is how they deal with problem children,” Gary informs him. Bitter.
And yeah, things have been pretty good for Jimmy lately, but he does know that this is exactly how they deal with problem children.
He almost feels bad.
—
Jimmy spends a lot of time before dinner thinking about Gary. About everything he thought he knew and everything he really does know. About everything that happened from his point of view and places where he might have been looking at things wrong.
No matter what he does though, Gary is in the wrong.
He meets up with Pete halfway through dinner, no less confused than he was before he left. Pete’s sitting alone, appearing deep in thought. So much so, he jumps when Jimmy slides onto the bench next to him.
“I’m sorry he upset you,” he sympathizes awkwardly. Jimmy isn’t the consoling type, but with Gary’s arrival, another thing he’s been thinking about is the way he treats Pete. Pete is special. Pete matters to him. If that means trying to be more open as a person, he’ll suffer through. “I can’t believe they put him in the same room as you again. You’d think considering-”
“He’s not moving,” Pete interrupts, eyes trained on his plate. “He’s not asleep, but he won’t say anything. Gary never slept a lot, it’s half the reason he’s so irritable, but he’d usually fidget around. Annoy me or sneak out or something.”
Jimmy bangs his fist against the table, unconcerned about whether or not it draws attention. He’s so tired of Pete shouldering the problems of people who don’t deserve it, most especially Gary.
“God damnit, Pete! Are you serious right now? Stop being so concerned about Gary Smith. Y’know, the boy who made your entire life thus far horrible? Ring any bells?” Jimmy seethes, shooting daggers at the kids eying them curiously.
Pete is tight-lipped, staring at Jimmy with this mixture of sadness and anger that makes Jimmy’s stomach churn with guilt and something else.
“You don’t know anything about me and Gary. Anything. So don’t act like you do. Gary has been in my life since I was born; it hasn’t always been good, but that’s what it was. And then you come along, and it’s only a matter of time before he’s suddenly not there anymore.”
“Are you blaming me for Gary losing his shit?” Jimmy asks incredulously.
Pete sighs, deflating. His anger bleeds into more sadness, something particularly painful to see even with the less than pleasant way the conversation has been going. Jimmy rests a hand on the back of the other boy’s neck, thumb rubbing small comforting circles.
It should be weird, but it feels right.
“There’s a lot of things wrong with him now, and I don’t know what they are. I don’t know what to do. I just don’t know,” he whispers.
Jimmy doesn’t get it. Doesn’t get why Pete cares so much or why Gary Smith gets a free card to be a dick when Jimmy has to work so much harder to make him happy or the clenching of his teeth in response to this conversation.
“I don’t understand you, Pete. You’re either a better person or stupid,” Jimmy sighs.
“You can dwell in the past, but I’m not going to sit and watch Gary drown,” Pete insists, crossing his arms.
“Gary doesn’t care if he drowns, Pete. You know he just wants you under with him,” Jimmy tries to reason, desperate to make the other boy understand.
Friendships aren’t Jimmy’s expertise. He has mutually beneficial relationships, and everyone else falls under people he doesn’t care about either way. The only two people he can really say extend beyond those two categories are Pete and Zoe.
He wishes Pete would understand that Jimmy is just concerned for his sake.
He spent months trying to save almost-strangers from Gary Smith. Too much time and effort to have Pete falling back into his grasp.
“You’re wrong. Gary’s just never been shown it matters if he drowns.”
Jimmy would love to be wrong.
“I don’t think I am,” he says, letting the topic drop.
—
Petey’s fears of Gary being targeted were unfounded. It’s apparent almost immediately that Gary has become a social pariah, whether because of the student body’s low opinion of him or because of fear left behind from the entire ordeal last year.
As much as Pete doesn’t like either option, he kinda hopes it’s the latter. At least then Gary isn’t being dismissed. But nobody talks to him. Nobody acknowledges his existence unless absolutely necessary. It speaks volumes to the horrors of Bullworth’s social hierarchy.
It’s obvious the boy still isn’t sleeping despite spending large quantities of time curled in his bed with his back to the world. Even before, Gary slept for very short periods of time with even less frequent episodes of almost hibernation scattered in between.
Now, Gary seemingly hasn’t slept at all, and it’s becoming more and more obvious in his appearance.
He always looks this close to passing out which, realistically, could be partly due to the meds. Gary must be taking them because, while he isn’t quite the zombie he came in as, he’s pretty damn close. Quiet and subdued in a way that feels wrong in regards to Gary.
Pete won’t say he misses being picked on, that’s a death sentence if he’s ever heard one, but he misseshis Gary. Despite the older boy’s ability to get under his skin and hurt his feelings more than anyone else Pete’s ever met, he’d toughened himself up enough over the years to take what was dished out and understand it was just how Gary expressed his feelings.
That Gary did it because he knew that Pete wouldn’t leave for good.
Without that aspect of their friendship, Pete’s starting to question if Gary even still cares for him.
Gary falling behind in school after already being two months out of the loop doesn’t come as a surprise to anybody. The kid is so smart, but he’s just not capable of focusing, and more often than not, his assignments don’t get done because he doesn’t remember them getting assigned.
Pete tries to remind him, tries to keep him on the ball but, apart from physically doing Gary’s homework himself, there’s nothing he can do. He’s not even sure if Gary wants his help; he’s scolded any time he tries to help in class before Gary even has time to react to his attempts.
It hurts, but the idea of doing nothing is worse.
The other kids give him weird looks and even Jimmy looks at him like he’s watching a car crash. Keeps asking if his intentions are to end up alienated too after everything they’ve worked for. It’s laughable. Pete hasn’t worked for anything and nobody ever has anything nice to say to him anyway.
He keeps trying.
Pete knows Gary isn’t stupid. So do his teachers, which is the most irritating thing of all.
Just because they don’t want anything to do with the trainwreck happening in slow motion in front of them doesn’t mean that Gary’s a lost cause. The older boy is already going to have to fight twice as hard to overcome all the bullshit the world has stacked against him. He can’t let him fail high school just because nobody who’s suppose to care is concerned over his lack of motivation.
—
It takes time and more effort than Pete thought himself capable of, but he finally manages to keep Gary up out of his bed during the day.
Petey has a lot of memories of Gary from his childhood. They’d spent an abnormally large amount of time together from the time Pete was born until his mother died, but it seems like Gary’s spending so much more time with Pete now than he ever has in the previous school years since, well, Zoe.
He’s always around now, still not saying much, but always somewhere in Pete’s general vicinity. Watching him do homework, or watch tv, or paint, or whatever he happens to be doing. Half the time, Pete’s not sure if he’s mentally checked into the situation, but he feels better just knowing the boy isn’t rotting in his bed.
Mostly, he thinks Gary’s doing it out of some sort of loneliness. He never liked the kids in Bullworth, but he use to have contact with most of them on a regular basis. Now, he can’t even just exist somewhere by himself without someone gawking at him from a safe distance.
“Why aren’t you and Jimmy fucking?” Gary asks him suddenly one night during dinner.
Jimmy had disappeared with Zoe into town, and Pete’s thankful for the break. He’s tired of getting dirty looks from the older boy the nights he chooses to sit with Gary, which are the only nights he can ever convince Gary to come to dinner in the first place.
It’s hard to blame the kid for not wanting to eat by himself, and Jimmy spends almost all of his time in Gary’s presence glaring at him, so it’s no shocker he’s not fond of that either. And that’s not even taking Zoe into consideration.
Pete almost chokes on his food in shock.
“W-what? Why do you keep bringing that up?” Pete whines, flushing.
“Twice,” Gary corrects, dragging his fork along his plate as if he’s disinterested, but Pete knows better. He wouldn’t ask if he didn’t care. “Well, who’s he fucking now, then? Zoe or the school?”
“Mostly the boys. Him and Zoe broke up during the summer. They only dated for like, a month. Apparently Zoe can’t keep it in her pants either, so they decided they were better off as friends,” he explains, appreciating the eyeroll he gets in response.
It’s nice to know the real Gary is still there.
There’s a split second of silence before Gary asks, “What about you?”
“What about me?” Pete shoots back, confused. He’s the same as he’s always been and he’s not sure what the older boy’s trying to get at.
“You two are doing this all wrong,” Gary huffs, dropping his fork. “How are you suppose to heal as people if you pretend you’re normal high school kids?”
“Why are you so concerned about me and Jimmy having sex? We’re normal, there’s nothing wrong with us,” he dismisses.
“You’re right, Petey. Jimmy is all messed up because he came from a broken home,” Gary quotes, stare hardening.
“I never said that!” He doesn’t understand why Gary’s bringing that back up or why he still feels so defensive over it. Why any of this bothers him as much as it does.
“And god knows my family doesn’t come out of any magazine, no matter how cookie-cutter my fucking father wants to pretend we are,” Gary continues as if Pete never spoke.
“Shut up, Gary,” Pete insists, hearing the frantic note in his own voice.
“Nobody likes you, Pete!” Gary yells, voice raising for the first time since he’s gotten back. Pete wishes it were over something different. “Nobody has liked you since your mother died, and nobody is going to like you tomorrow, or next week, or next year. Nobody likes you, and it’s only a little bit my fault and a lot the fault of shitty luck!”
“That’s not true!” Pete cries, slamming his palms onto the table. They’ve drawn the attention of the entire cafeteria, and Pete feels his cheeks heat up. He hates being the center of attention, even more so because of this. Stupid Pete, always running back to Gary. When’s he going to learn?
“Yes, it is,” Gary hisses. “And the sooner you and Jimmy pull your asses out of your heads, the sooner I can go kill myself and make everyone a whole lot happier.”
He storms out of the cafeteria before Petey can even think of something to stop him. Pete’s stomach clenches painfully, and he feels frozen under the weight of the school’s eyes.
—
Whether or not Gary goes back to the room after their fight is unclear, but Pete’s way too much of a coward to check. He’s mad at Gary too, for the first time since he came back. It feels validating, like everyone saying he’s giving Gary a free pass is wrong because he’s never been so hurt and so angry as he is now.
Somehow, he ends up in Jimmy’s room.
It’s not something he thinks about; it just sort of happens. One moment he’s walking out of the school, fuming. The next, he’s face first in Jimmy’s bed. A lot less angry but just as hurt.
It doesn’t make sense. Why Gary thinks he and Jimmy need each other or why Gary’s insistence that no one will want him hurts so much. The older boy is always insensitive, and Pete knows it isn’t true, so why does it matter so much?
Laughter cuts off at the sound of the door opening.
“Pete?” Jimmy calls. He sounds worried. Pete can vaguely make out the sound of Zoe whispering her goodbyes before he feels someone sit on the bed and fingers ghosting against his back. It feels amazing.
Silence fills the room for the longest time, but it’s anything but awkward. It’s good. Great even, but it holds something heavier, and Pete is afraid of what’s coming. Something is coming.
“What happened?” Jimmy asks, urging him to sit up. He complies, if only because it seems like the right thing to do.
“He said no one will ever like me.”
They’ve done this a hundred times, sat together in this bed. Talking. Doing homework. Fuck, Pete’s taken naps with Jimmy more than once. Why is this different? Jimmy looks so sad.
“I like you.”
So sad.
“Pete. I like you.”
What’s different?
“I like you so much.”
Pete’s breath catches, fingers clenching at the fabric of his pants. Oh. Oh.
God, Pete wishes things were different. Wishes he had realized before or that Gary wasn’t a factor. The idea of that though, it kills him. Gary is always going to be a factor. Always going to matter.
“Can’t that be enough?” Jimmy asks.
If things were different…
“No.”
—
“You’re not really going to kill yourself, right?” Petey asks into the darkness of their room later that night, feeling smaller than he has in a long time. His mind is racing from everything. It’s all just a touch too overwhelming.
He’s met with silence and the sinking of his own stomach in response.
“No. I’m too self-important for that,” Gary responds quietly after a while.
He doesn’t know whether to be relieved or more frightened by that answer.
—
Gary attempting to play Cupid is a weird thing; he talks about it nonstop but displays a detached attitude anytime Pete is the one to bring it up. It rubs insistently against the rawness that is Jimmy’s recent confession, but it’s mostly harmless, and it keeps Gary occupied, so Pete can’t find a reason to stop him
Things do get a little awkward. It seems like Gary can’t help but run into them the second they’re left alone, offering a bullshit excuse every time and leaving them to stew in the weirdness that has become their friendship
He hates it. It feels weird to miss Jimmy when he’s always around.
Pete’s not sure what Gary’s train of thought is, but he’s running on the assumption that Gary thinks their relationship will flourish from a mutual dislike of him. It’s too bad that Pete doesn’t hate Gary.
Sometimes he wonders if maybe Jimmy doesn’t either.
Things come to a head one day. Pete hasn’t talked to Jimmy one on one beyond a few mumbled words here and there for a week and a half so he’s reasonably pretty surprised when the boy just sits down next to him in the courtyard one day while him and Gary are people watching.
Gary stops mid sentence, looking this close to just bolting without one of his usual excuses.
“I don’t forgive you,” Jimmy says, freezing Gary with a hard stare. “And I’m not sorry.”
“Okay,” Gary says, wide-eyed and confused.
They continue to look at each other in silence for several moments.
“Stop trying to get me and Pete together,” Jimmy finally adds, averting his eyes. Pete feels bad for the hurt he hears in the words, and even Gary seems to pick up on some sort of emotion because he nods.
“Okay,” he repeats before spilling back into whatever he was saying before Jimmy showed up.
It gets almost easier after that. Gary starts talking more, all the time like before. Before Jimmy, and plots to take over schools, and ruined friendships.
They find out that Jimmy and Gary have a lot more in common than they ever knew from the limited conversations they’d had the year before. When it comes down to it, Gary and Jimmy are both giant gossips. They compliment each other.
Sometimes, when Gary laughs at something Jimmy says – a honest to god laugh of amusement – Pete can pretend like nothing is wrong. Like Jimmy doesn’t look at him like his heart is breaking over and over again. Like Gary doesn’t spend every waking moment drugged out on more medication than his body can fully handle.
It’s hard, but it’s better than nothing.
—
Hopkins smiles at him all the time now.
He’s not sure what to think.
—
He thinks he’s going to puke.
—
It’s a little after a month since Gary returned when his probation officer shows up again out of the blue.
Gary looks understandably upset, demanding to know what he did wrong. Pete doesn’t blame him. It’s so unbelievably inappropriate to show up in the middle of History demanding to speak to him; less professional than he expects from a social worker outside of Bullworth.
Being disappointed is ridiculous, but he can’t help it.
“We need to talk,” she says cryptically, sending a questioning look at Wiggins. Not that he can turn her down, can he? She’s already made a disruption of herself, so it’s be ridiculous to stop her.
The whispering starts before she’s even fully pulled Gary into the hallway.
Pete shoots a worried glance at the door, turning to Jimmy to see if he had any idea what this could be about. He pauses when he realizes that, instead of looking at him, Jimmy is also staring at the door, confused. Worried?
If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was concerned. But that’s ridiculous; Jimmy, despite the progress he’s made, still won’t allow himself to be left alone with Gary.
“He spends all his time with us. What could he have done?” Jimmy wonders aloud.
It’s ridiculous.
Even after Wiggins gets the class under control, Jimmy’s focus is lost on the door. Even as concerned as he is, Pete can’t help a small smile over it.
—
They don’t find out until later why Gary gets called away. He spends the rest of class somewhere with his probation office, and no one can say for certain where they are. An impressive feat, hiding from the nosey student body of Bullworth.
It’s not until Gary comes busting into the room while Jimmy and Pete are making guesses about what’s happening do they discover why his probation officer got called back to the school.
“I get to go back on one dose,” he says with a pleased sort of smile he’s attempting to hide with his lip tucked between his teeth. Pete’s excited gasp completely destroys his composure though, and then he’s catapulting himself onto the bed with them.
Pete and Gary bounce excitedly in a way that is completely in character for Pete, but not entirely unbefitting of Gary.
“That’s amazing. Congratulations,” Petey is saying, laughing at Gary’s happy little nod in response.
Jimmy can’t remember ever having seen Gary this happy. Not when things were going his way last year. Not when he thought he had won. This was something on a completely different level than he’d ever witnessed.
He hates it, and he’s not sure why.
The older boy is doing so much better school now, with Pete’s help and Jimmy’s own persistence. He’s doing good. Things were good for a couple months last year though too.
Gary is still grinning when Jimmy finally decides to comment.
“How long you think that’s going to last?” he asks, arms crossed.
He watches Gary fall apart in front of him at the question. Part of him thought it would feel better, but mostly he wishes it felt worse.
“Jimmy!” Pete hisses, anger evident.
Jimmy will take it. He’s not sure why he opened his mouth or why he’s not taking it back. Why Gary’s undisguised hurt feels something like victory.
“What?” He argues, before he can stop himself. “I’m just being realistic. He’s going to fuck it up at some point. He’s Gary.” He motions at the boy, rationalizing his argument in his head. What he’s saying isn’t wrong, even if it’s not what any of them want to hear.
No matter what he does, Gary was in the wrong, and he can’t let that go.
Gary isn’t getting better; he’s experiencing one part of an endless cycle he’ll be stuck in his entire life. Drugs, slightly less drugs, freak out, incarceration, repeat. Jimmy doesn’t want Pete to be trapped in that. He doesn’t want to be trapped in that.
Why does he feel the need to reason it to himself?
“I…I interrupted something so I’m just gonna. Leave. Outside. Somewhere,” Gary mumbles, reverting to his old habit of trying to leave Jimmy and Pete alone.
The silence that follows is so emotionally charged, Jimmy isn’t even remotely shocked when Pete starts yelling.
“Look what you did, you asshole! You hurt his feelings!”
The surge of anger he feels at that is unexpected, but he holds onto it. It feels good, and he wants to let it engulf him. Jimmy’s been taking everything in stride without question, and he just wants to be upset for once.
“Fuck his feelings, Pete! What about your feelings? Do you even care about how much you’re going to get hurt in all of this?” Jimmy yells, grabbing the other boy’s shoulder roughly to hold him in place. “Gary is a sociopath. He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t even like you.”
“Stop,” Pete whimpers, breath catching when Jimmy’s fingers dig in harder.
“I care about you, and I’ll be fucked if I just sit back and let you fall back into his lap!”
Pete shakes free of his grip. Jimmy’s stomach plummets at his wince of pain, immediately regretful of the rough handling.
“You’re just scared,” Pete hisses in his face before he’s sprinting after Gary.
Sitting in the miserable silence of the room, he wonders when things got to this point.
He is scared.
—
Gary’s pacing out by the football field. He’s agitated, to simplify it. Something about it is satisfying, feeling things the medication hadn’t previously allowed.
The weight of Pete’s cautious stare fuels his agitation. There’s all these feelings he’s kept below the surface for the sake of others, putting himself and what he wanted last for the first time in forever. He’s reminded why he stopped in the first place.
It always ends up biting him in the ass.
“You’re mine,” he mumbles, glaring at the pavement.
“What?” Pete asks, taking a step towards him.
“You’re mine. You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine!” Gary explodes, growling when Pete scrambles backwards.
He hates being this person sometimes. Hates the way people react to him. He stalks up to the smaller boy, shoving him. It’s pretty damn hard and Pete stumbles backwards, eyes big.
“I love you,” he says a little hysterically, desperate.
“Why?” Pete asks, refusing to cower from Gary as he corners Pete against a wall. Typical Pete, afraid of his own shadow, but he’ll stand up to Gary at his most volatile. Gary’s almost proud of him.
He scoffs, pushing away to start pacing again. Pete always needs specifics. Gary wasn’t even sure he’d be able to get to this point in his feelings for people, and Pete wants to know why. He’s not going to like anything he hears if Gary explains.
“You’re mine,” he tries to explain anyways. “I think you’re important enough to have. And that makes you…special. Worthy.”
It’s a horrible explanation, and he’s sure Pete’s going to run screaming. He wants to punch something, but the only one here is Pete, and that’s the last thing he wants to do right now. Not Pete. Not today.
“What about Jimmy?” Pete presses, staying in his spot against the wall.
“Jimmy too! But that’s different because Hopkins hates me and you don’t. Because you’re a god damn idiot, and I hate you,” Gary insists, beginning to feel overwhelmed.
“Thought you loved me?” Pete teases, pushing off of the wall and grabbing Gary’s wrist to stop his pacing. He tugs, pulling Gary towards him. It’s not enough to force Gary to move, but he does regardless, allowing Pete to turn him.
Pete smooths a soothing hand along Gary’s chest which shouldn’t be as calming as it is. Gary feels pathetic at the way it makes him want to go pliant against the younger boy.
“It’s the same feeling,” Gary insists, attempting to keep his face neutral. It’s hard with Pete’s soft eyes looking back at him, and he gives in. Pete smiles back, threading his fingers with Gary’s.
“Okay,” he promises, rubbing a thumb along Gary’s hand. “We can work with this.”
—
Pete comes back hand in hand with Gary, a fact that leaves a bitter taste in Jimmy’s mouth. He’s not surprised by it, has been waiting for it since Pete’s rejection, but something about witnessing it first-hand knocks the air out of him.
They’re both smiling so hard though.
“We’re going on a date,” Pete tells him.
“Oh,” Jimmy responds, unsure of what else to say. He’s not going to congratulate them; he refuses to be that much of a nice guy.
“Yeah, so change,” Pete says, like he knows exactly where Jimmy’s line of thought is. He gapes, watching Gary untangle himself from the smaller boy.
“I am not going on a date with Gary Smith!” he yells, looking between them in disbelief.
“Actually, you are,” Pete chirps, making his way to his dresser to change. “And so am I. It’s going to be awesome.”
“I wouldn’t use the word awesome,” Gary mumbles, stripping off his shirt.
Jimmy goes to ask him why he’s playing along if he so clearly isn’t interested when he notices the large, ugly bruise along the expanse of the boy’s back. It’s been six months and Jimmy’s own injuries have healed. Gary’s look like they haven’t even tried.
“Jesus christ!” he hisses sympathetically, walking over to trace a finger from the top of the bruise at the base of Gary’s neck to the bottom by his tailbone. It looks so unbelievably painful, Jimmy hurts just looking at it, but Gary shows no sign of it hurting.
The only acknowledgement he gets at all is the twitch of muscle under Jimmy’s touch.
“Bruises remind you why you’re there,” is Gary’s only response before he’s tugging on a new shirt.
Jimmy considers that silently for a moment while Gary stays stiffly turned with his back to Jimmy despite the fact that he finished changing.
He thinks about last year. He thinks about everything he went through at Gary’s hand. He thinks about a summer without him and the boredom of a Bullworth under control.
No matter how he looks at it, Gary was in the wrong. Jimmy’s starting to realize that it doesn’t mean he was in the right.
“Okay, where are we going?” he asks finally, turning to Pete who rewards him with the brightest smile.
—
They decide on a diner tucked away at the edge of town instead of something big. The carnival feels too date-ish for how fragile this arrangement is, too intimate, and the last thing they want to do is force Gary to function in a large crowd of people.
Despite the fact that Gary had some sort of hand in this date idea, he’s tucking himself in the corner of the booth like he’d rather be anywhere but here. It pisses Jimmy off.
“Do you even like guys?” Jimmy growls after Gary fails to participate in the conversation in the entire ten minutes they’ve been there.
“Girls are harpies,” Gary says, like that’s an answer.
“What does that even mean?” Jimmy demands, annoyed at Gary’s ability to answer questions without offering any useful information. He’s tempted to punch the kid in his smug, side-eying face.
“I don’t have any interest in the kind of girls who would be into me. I don’t need psychotic, mindless little followers lining up to conceive my children,” Gary elaborates.
“So any girl who believes what you preach is psychotic, but you’re not? Is that what you’re saying?” Jimmy argues, feeling bad when Pete sinks dejected in the booth. Not bad enough to let it drop, but bad.
“Who’s crazier?” Gary counters. “The person preaching what he believes or the masses who convince themselves he’s right?”
“What does that make us then?” Jimmy demands, challenging Gary to conceive a response that isn’t insulting.
Against Jimmy’s better judgement, he’s come to give somewhat of a fuck about Gary Smith. More than that even. If he’s being honest, he cares about Gary a lot, but he’s not Pete. He can’t run into something with some crazed motherfucker just because the alternative doesn’t elicit as much feeling in him.
Gary rolls his eyes, turning his body so that he’s facing Jimmy rather than the booth wall.
“The way I figure it, you either hurt other people or you self-destruct,” he says rather than answering Jimmy’s question.
“I don’t want to hurt other people,” Jimmy responds stiffly.
Gary grins and it reminds Jimmy of freshmen year. Reminds him of meeting Gary. Of trusting Gary despite everything in his body telling him not to.
“Well then, Hopkins. Let’s self-destruct together,” he offers, shooting a small smile at Pete who returns it like it’s nothing to trust Gary Smith with his heart.
And fuck Jimmy because that makes more sense than anything anyone’s said to him in forever. He’s spent so long trying to keep himself together. To play at being the guy who helps himself without burning any bridges. Every action has to be performed with care. With surgical precision.
It’s never occurred to him to just stop and let things fall apart as they will.
Jimmy’s not Gary, but he is fucked up in his own way. It might be nice to embrace that part of himself in a way that only Gary has ever seemed capable of doing.
“Yeah, okay. Let’s do that,” Jimmy concedes.
Gary offers him a smile similar to the ones he’s been giving Pete. Small. Hopeful. Cautious.
It’s never occurred to him that Gary’s risking just as much as they are in this. His masks are his everything, especially since he’s come back. It’s becoming a very real possibility that they can hurt him, and he’s still offering it up willingly.
Even Jimmy Hopkins can’t spit in the face of that.