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The first thing Tim noticed was the sound of rushing water nearby.
He blinked, confused, and looked around himself, realizing he must have fallen asleep next to the river. As he sat up, he heard a voice behind him, one he couldn't quite place but knew he had heard before.
"Hey you, you're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border? Walked right into that imperial ambush,like us and that thief over there."
He turned around quickly, seeing a grinning, heavily pierced face.
"Gerry Keay? You're alive?"
The other man seemed to choke back a laugh, sitting down beside him. "Not really, no." Tim had never really met him before, but he'd seen enough pictures to recognize him. His hair, long and dyed a dark black, cascaded down over his leather jacket. Tim's eyes scanned over his face, taking in the smeared black lipstick, the thick eyeliner, trailing lower to the tattooed eyes that covered his throat and the torn band shirt that showed off a toned stomach. "Eyes up here," Gerry snorted, the smirk on his face revealing white, sharp teeth that stood out starkly against the black lipstick.
Tim cocked his head, humming a bit disappointed. "If you're not alive, then-" A headache split his head as he remembered the rush of flame and heat. "Ah. At least I went out like a badass. But no offence to you, if this was heaven, I'd have at least three of you, and you'd already be in my lap."
"Not saying that's off the table, but I've never met you before. Also this isn't heaven. You did know you sold your soul right? That kind of precludes any sort of traditional afterlife."
Tim groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Don't they have to make you sign a contract for that sort of thing?"
"Mm, but you did sign a contract. I didn't even do that, I was working more...freelance?" Gerry twirled a painted finger, covered in tattooed eyes, in his hair.
"God, you are a walking stereotype, you know that? But fuck, is it working..."
Gerry laughed, and the sound resonated in Tim's chest. "Can you focus for a moment? You're cute, but I thought you were supposed to be smart. You haven't even noticed the Eye yet..." He pointed up, and Tim followed his finger to the sky, except there wasn't really a sky.
He sucked in a horrified breath as he noticed the millions, billions, just an infinite number of eyes of all shapes, sizes, and colors, pressed in tightly together like a stone mosaic.
"Don't worry. They just like to watch. Record. It's kind of the work of the Beholding, as it were." He spread out his fingers, then crossed his arms behind his head, falling backwards into the grass. "So yes, we will be stuck here for eternity to feed the Eye our stories. But trust me, it's better than some of the others."
"Fucking hell..." Tim cursed, still staring up at the multitude of eyes above them. "You know, I was kind of at peace with blowing myself up. Thought I'd be free of all the monsters and bullshit. Guess that was never in the picture."
Gerry whipped out a switchblade, flipping it open and shut without really seeming to notice he was doing it. "There was *one* way you could have gotten out." He glanced over at Tim. "I know because my dad's not here. Wouldn't have wanted to see him anyway, but he managed to get out before he died."
Tim leaned over Gerry, frowning. "What did he do?"
He smirked, throwing the blade at the nearest tree, leafless and bare. "He gouged out his eyes."
"Holy..." Tim whistled. "I doubt that would help much at this point, huh?"
Gerry closed his eyes. "Probably not. Besides, I think this is probably better than where I would have ended up naturally. I'm not the kind of person meant for heaven."
"Now I don't believe that. I heard all about you. You died fighting to stop evil or whatever."
"Not really, I died of cancer." He shook his head. "I'm just glad I'm not here alone anymore. I mean. Gertrude is here, but she's only so much fun."
"What...do you do here?" Tim pushed himself to his feet, raising a hand to his eyes to look out around them.
"What do you want to do?"
Tim shouted in pure joy, only slightly tainted by the gaze of the Ceaseless Watcher. He hadn't been able to take a real vacation in so long, and it felt like this river was pulled straight from his last memory of kayaking.
Just over the sound of the water all around him, he heard Gerry shout, "you're such a dork!", his voice clearly full of laughter. This certainly wasn't the afterlife he was expecting. But he didn't mind it one bit.