Chapter Text
if andrew were to retrace each step back from where he began, he'd find himself lost - though he doubted he'd ever been truly found in the first place. time and time and time again, seconds lost and hours gone by - where is he? where is he now? he'd left on a boat, two weeks ago, to god knows where? nicky's forced cheer and his twin's disdain were nothing but scratches in the back of his mind as he set sail with his belongings, the bare minimum. the weather hadn't looked promising - maybe that was the point. if he had any answers, he sure as fuck wouldn't be in the middle of the sea, moving along with the choppy waves.
he didn't believe in the universe sending signs or whatever crap you see in documentaries, detailing journeys like his. the moment kevin had told him of a lighthouse in ireland, he knew that it was an opportunity. life was made of chances and missed opportunities.
when wymack offered him that scholarship, he took his chance and got himself, nicky and aaron, a place in palmetto state university. when he made promises with kevin and aaron, in exchange for them staying - those too were more chances he took. when he was court-ordered to have therapy, there it was, that turning point at which he found himself at another crossroad.
bee always said he'd be able to strive for much greater heights if he'd find his way out of the darkness and oh the irony swallowed him whole. so here he was, travelling to a light. andrew figured that it was likely a metaphorical light he was searching for and smiled grimly at his attempt at humour. he'd never been able to find the coordinates that kevin had given him, on a map online anyways.
he was chasing a pipedream without legs to guide him, nor an image to lead the way.
and with every chance, there's always a bad roll.
it started like this,
first, a drop ;
then, a downpour ;
the wind became a blizzard.
the sky and the ocean blended into one scene from hell.
the boat he set sail on rocked vigorously, andrew clamped his hands tight onto the railing. at times, he came face to face with the sea as the boat tilted precariously.
his breath became laboured. his face, clothes, socks, shoes, was drenched in rain or seawater, he couldn't tell anymore.
one step at a time, the wooden platform creaked as andrew tried to reach the control panel, where he could connect to a nearby signal and call for help. help, huh. andrew put the device close to his mouth and spoke into it.
"hello?"
a crackle.
"this- it's andrew. andrew minyard."
another crackle.
he grit his teeth, "i'm stuck, out at sea and there's a storm. i'm- i'm going to need help."
the dull sound of white noise filled its speaker and was quickly overshadowed by the sound of nearby thunder. lightning flashed soon after, he was in the eye of the storm it seemed. the boat rocked once again and he slipped and fell onto the floor, sliding across the wet varnished wood and hitting his head against the metal of the boat. he felt a warm heat rush down his face.
oh fuck, this wasn't what was supposed to happen.
andrew scrambled for the device that fell out of his hand and he raised his voice, "i left the east coast two weeks ago, from south carolina. i think i'm concussed, everything seems dizzy. i'm not going to make it back to the shore anytime soon. i don't think i'm going to make it back at all."
his breaths came out shallow, he no longer felt cold, instead he felt warm all over. a sign of hypothermia, he remembered aaron telling him. oh god, aaron.
"my brother, aaron- aaron minyard. he must be-"
he cut himself off with a delirious laugh.
no, aaron wasn't looking for him. not with the way he set out explicitly stating he be left alone. not with the way he stared at aaron, as if he were a stranger and told him exactly that. andrew still remembers his own cruel words, ringing in his ears.
--
'andrew you can't be serious, what about your job? what about nicky? kevin? what about me andrew, you can't just leave us all behind like that.' aaron held in his shaking fist, a letter written in andrew's familiar scrawl.
'what about you?' andrew replied in a bored tone. he'd meant to leave the letter before aaron got home from his shift at the hospital.
aaron looked at andrew, furious, 'we're your family for fucks sake andrew. as much as you hate to admit it, i care about you, because you're my brother damn it.'
andrew stared down at the key in his hand and tossed it at aaron, who caught it. aaron's face dawned in recognition and opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.
'take care of the maserati, it's all yours now. just like you wanted.'
andrew began to turn away, ready to leave and check for whatever he had left behind, when aaron's hand reached out for his arm. he caught aaron's wrist in a vice-like grip, 'don't.'
'andrew pl-'
'i said, don't.'
aaron's eyebrows were scrunched together, his voice was a slight whisper, 'stay.'
andrew's mind reeled, he doesn't mean that. he forced himself to look away and down at the hardwood floor. you know you're only a shackle for him. it's better if you leave him, before he leaves you eventually. he won't make that decision, i won't make him do it.
he let go of aaron's wrist and said, 'don't follow me,' and swiftly walked towards the door, leaving the house without turning back. it was for the better.
the moment he opened the door, there nicky stood, making andrew almost collide with him, head first.
'woah, hey where are you off to in such a rush?' nicky laughed, surprised to see andrew in a hurry.
'ireland.'
nicky's smile slowly slipped off his face, as he waited for the punchline to arrive.
'you're joking, right?'
andrew responded with nothing but silence and a blank stare.
'when are you coming back then?' nicky's brow furrowed slightly with worry.
his fists tightened in response, never, he thought to himself but refused to say it out loud. to say something meant permanence, it meant etching it into history unable to be rewritten. to speak would be a promise, one that he wasn't sure he'd keep.
nicky sighed, 'i don't suppose there's anything i can say to make you stay. will you take care of yourself? for me, at least.'
silence.
'you've always been strong enough to protect us all, i hope you can find whatever you're searching for.' nicky's grin put on, once again.
if there was a time nicky wouldn't smile, andrew was sure that it would be the last day on earth. the slight dimple on the corner of his mouth, the engraved laugh lines and the sadness in his eyes - he committed it all to memory. the first person willing to see him as something other than a monster. he'd miss nicky, though he doubt he'd ever be able to say this to him.
andrew gave a slight nod as a reply, and turned to walk towards where his boat was anchored. he walked a few paces away, enough to hear the, 'don't forget to write to us,' nicky shouted. a small smile made its way upon his face. maybe everything would work out after all.
--
fate's a funny thing, you see. it just so happens that you find that disgusting sliver of hope and because you're oh so desperate to crawl out of a gutter, you were forced into from the moment you were brought into this miserable hellsack of a world, you latch onto it. fighting tooth and nail to keep ahold of it. but fate, darling fate, fate so tender and kind to those who are 'deserving', fate blows out that very flame of hope - apparently in the shape of a storm.
the sky, the sea and everything in between, wherever it started - andrew couldn't tell. his vision blurred and his consciousness began to fade.
was this really it?
he closed his eyes and let himself breathe in the salt in the air, taste the salt on his tongue and the salt on his cheeks. the ocean crashed against the metal of the boat, making it creak. his firm grip on a groove in the floorboard loosened slowly, any moment now the boat would tip over and he'd slide across again.
well, what now?
there was nobody to hear him. not that there ever was anyone listening in the first place. he'd been born to a world blind to his pleas and raised in homes that tore away everything that made him human. battered, broken and bruised and most of all, alone. he was alone and he would die that way too. perhaps in a kinder timeline, he wouldn't have had to sail across the atlantic.
he snorted, god what he even thinking setting out here. he felt stupid. as if, giving away his house and car wasn't enough, here he was talking about alternate timelines. face it minyard, this is as good as it'll ever get for you. there was never a kind or a just god willing to make that happen. andrew's laugh tore through him, a sort of wet hack. he laughed and laughed, a dying man's breath.
he entertained the possibility of a new life.
maybe, he'd be a musician, playing blues till the sun came down.
maybe, he'd be a writer, creating characters with hearts of gold and dialogue with witty one-liners.
maybe, he'd be in love? and loved back? or maybe, he was a fool, who hadn't learnt his lesson.
his laughter broke out into a tearless sob and he choked on it. he choked with a wordless emotion and a vast void in his soul that had only grown ever since he first dreamt of a happy ending. turns out a young child and a grown adult have a lot more in common than he initially realised.
life wasn't fair.
it wasn't fair to his starry-eyed young self, who'd not yet seen the filth in the world, but would soon discover the safety in a locked door. nor was it fair to his teen self, who'd found family, in the shape of an abused brother, which was dangled over his head like shiny bait into an even bigger trap.
it wasn't fair now, he'd die in a salty wasteland, left as a rotting corpse at the bottom of the sea.
as his eyes began to droop, he could just about make out a light in the distance.
looks like he found it, after all.
and everything faded to black.