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“Hey Smitty, how about you and I work together instead of sticking with these fuckers?”
The unmistakable voice of Matt trickled through the air, the words gradually falling onto Smitty’s ears. He was taken aback by the sudden conversation topic, especially since the two of them were silently doing a routine supply check at their base to make sure they all had enough food and medicine.
“The hell are you talking about, Matt?” The brunette turned around and pushed his broken two-tone glasses up to the top of his head. There was no need for them in the dimly lit room, but they’ve become a comfort item, even if they’re a bit unpractical at times.
The blonde huffed out a breath of air at the question. “Oh come on, Smit, you know what I mean,” He put down the first aid kit he was examining and crossed the room to stand face-to-face with his soon-to-be spy. “You’ve already started to see for yourself that there are a few weak links in the group, people are getting attached to one another, finding comfort in companionship. You’re the only one I’ve seen who hasn’t become a goddamn pussy yet, so, I figured you could be… useful .”
Smitty squinted his eyes at the other man. The hidden message buried within Matt’s words didn’t quite dig its way to the surface in time for him to understand what he was agreeing to. “Y’know what, sure. What’s in it for me, though, hmm?”
That got a quick laugh from Matt. “Oh, you’re serious? Hmm, well, I guess whatever secrets you find from the others for me- us, about new places to ransack I guess we can split the loot. You’re going to be my spy, Smitty. We’re not friends or allies, not even anywhere close to that. You and I are simply going to stay in touch and you be a rat and dig around the group to get me information.”
Matt finally stopped explaining what his master plan was and Smitty knew he already agreed. There was no backing out now, besides, it wasn’t like he was going to get close to anyone anyways. As Matt said, there’s no point. Right?
Saturday rolled around once more. The only consistent thing in Smitty’s life currently was these weekly secret meetings with Matt to discuss any new findings from the previous week. It was something they established as a routine after Smitty naïvely agreed to work with the blonde. As he sat on the fence at the old, now-abandoned farm down the road, Smitty began to pick at his nails. John had managed to find a single bottle of nail polish at a store they searched through earlier that week and took it. However, John didn’t want to mess up his nails if the polish was bad - “I don’t want clumpy-looking nails, dude.” “We’re in the middle of the goddamn apocalypse, John! Who cares?” “I do, motherfucker! Now give me your hand.” - so Smitty was used as a test dummy.
John also used the excuse to paint each other’s nails as a way to improve his depth perception. Smitty would never tell anyone that he thought John was resilient as hell for managing to recover so fast from losing vision in his eye. Of course, it made the two men grow closer together, and doing activities together made Matt start to ride his ass even more, constantly reminding him of their rules. Telling him that if he doesn’t want to end up like John that he needs to get his shit together and stop questioning his morals. “You know who’s right and wrong here, Smit. People die all the time and if you don’t want to be next, consider your choices wisely.”
The sunflower yellow color was now starting to chip from his nails, and the dirt underneath them was starting to peek through the polish, but he didn’t mind. John can always paint them again in a few days. That thought made Smitty smile to himself just as a shadow was cast on the ground in front of him. Looking up, he saw the all too familiar face of Matt, lips stretched into a thin line, his eyes dark and cloudy. Not a great start to their meeting.
“The fuck’s on your fingers? Did you fucking get some disease? Was it from that blue house over on Greenwood Drive? I knew that house was fucking gross and told you all not to go there but hey, when does Matt ever have good ideas, right?”
The pissed-off tone made Smitty internally curl in on himself. Afraid to show any signs of weakness he cleared his throat and sat up more. “What? No, dumbass, it’s nail polish. But, that’s not important. Anyway, so the other day I heard that Pezzy and Dro-”
“Who the fuck painted your nails? I know damn well you didn’t do it, Smit. So. Fess up. Who did it, hmm? WHO DID IT?!” The yelling started a lot earlier than it usually did.
Smitty sighed, knowing that honesty is better than lying. He doesn’t want a repeat of last time. “It was John. It’s not that big of a deal, dude. Besides, while he was doing it I even got some intel from him about Grizzy and Puffer; they’re planning on checking out that military store in the next town over soon. Nail polish isn’t hurting anybody, so chill out, man.”
He knew those last few words were the wrong choice before they even left his mouth but Smitty couldn’t stop them from spilling out in time. Every interaction with Matt made Smitty feel like he was flying closer and closer to the sun without a backup plan. His fists clenched shut as he prepared for the sudden yelling match the two of them were about to get into.
“Chill out? You want me to chill out, Smit? How the hell can I “chill out” when you’re over here getting closer to the other assholes. My number one rule is to not form attachments. AND YET YOU’RE OVER HERE BEING A PUSSY WITH PAINTED NAILS! Grow up, Smit, this isn’t the time to fuck around and play dress up or pretend. Do you know how quickly any of us could just die at any moment? If any of you fuckers keeled over and died it wouldn’t bother me one fucking bit. But the others? Oh man, they’d be goddamn disasters, mourning over their poor little friend and wondering what went wrong. It’s all bullshit and you know it.” The words spat out toward Smitty like venom, poisoning his very being to the core.
All of a sudden Smitty’s body froze as he saw Matt reach for the gun he keeps strapped to his thigh, hidden under the baggy sweatpants he always wore.
“Whoa, what are you doing, man? We can talk about this, come on, Matt. I mean, like, how else do you expect me to get information for you if I don’t try to get a little close to the others? It’s borderline impossible to get any of them to spill any secrets unless they think of me as a trustworthy guy. I haven’t done you wrong yet, just put the gun back dude.” Smitty’s facade was starting to crumble ever so slightly as he saw the man in front of him keep a steady hold on the pistol. The unwavering eye contact made his skin start burning.
Smitty knew he was starting to fly up to the dangerous area in the sky yet again, his feathers were beginning to melt off. The brunette was starting to feel himself falling, tumbling back down to earth crashing into the shattering realization he’s been burying further and further into his chest that he does actually care about John. And the others. Even Matt, in a cruel, twisted turn of events. Despite how much Matt uses him as a tool for his own success and survival, Smitty could still tell he would care only slightly if something happened to the man.
Just as Smitty squeezes his eyes shut, a shot rings out. He waits for the pain to sear through his body, for himself to crumple to the ground, just like Icarus. He’s flown too close to the sun this time. This was the final straw, he’s been playing too risky.
But the pain never comes. He opens one eye to see that Matt had simply shot into the ground near his feet. Two inches to the right and the bullet would’ve gone through his foot. That thought sends his heart into his stomach. In a shocking turn of events, Matt seemed calmer after shooting his weapon and gradually put the pistol back into its holder.
“Whatever, just tell me what you have to say so I can get away from here. Seeing you right now makes me wanna vomit.” Of course, the last bit was said with his usual sarcastic smirk plastered onto his face. Matt deep down thought the matching nail polish would be cute if they weren’t all trying to focus on survival. He wouldn’t let anyone know that, though.
Tuesday finally rolled around and Smitty swore this was the longest week ever. Maybe it had to do with the ambush Puffer, Pezzy, Droid, and Grizzy dealt with at that military store. Maybe it had to do with Droid not wanting to let Pezzy out of his sights again, checking in on the other man more times than Smitty could keep track of. Or maybe it was Grizzy trying to do first aid on Puffer’s newest injury in his ever-growing collection because the injured man was unable to do the task himself. But it definitely had to do with watching John having to step in and take over for Grizzy. It definitely had to be that. Seeing his friend try and do first aid despite only having one working eye and still being better than the others was such a fucked up sight. Even worse was seeing John’s yellow nails now stained pink with another man’s blood. It made Smitty queasy to look at. He couldn’t stay in the house while they were fixing each other up.
“I’m going to grab one of the guns and go stand watch outside guys.” He quickly mumbled out an excuse to leave, not waiting for any replies or protests, and bolted out the door. Matt made note of the sudden escape from the house as he went back to observing the mess of weapons and bandages in the kitchen.
The brunette walked around on autopilot, not knowing where to go, just knowing he needed to leave before he caused a scene between him and Matt. He couldn’t be getting attached to people, he would be going against Matt’s rule. That would cause issues that Smit didn’t even want to imagine. Eventually, he found himself at the lake by the woods, about 20 minutes from their base. It wasn’t too far so if he needed to run back he could, but it was far enough for him to sit on the lone bench that still sits by the water and scream into his hoodie.
He has no idea how long he was silently screaming for, all he cared about was trying to do something to let the pain out. When he finished, he pushed his cracked glasses back up so they sat properly on the bridge of his nose, Smitty started to relax ever so slightly. The fucked up monochrome world suddenly exploded into various hues of red and blue. The glasses really did become a comfort item. He could put them on and look at the world in a different way, figuratively and literally.
The once vibrant sky that now exists in a permanent slate gray now has some color back, an ultramarine blue that sits heavy above the auburn-green colored trees. The lake looked lively as well through the multicolored lenses, the sun shimmering off the ripples causing Smitty’s eyes to unfocus. He feels his hands start to fidget with his hoodie strings, twirling them around his fingers. The yellow cords slither around and around like a pair of snakes, circling their prey with bated breath. Suddenly Smitty remembers the secret pocket he sewed into his hoodie and pulls out the item he’s stashed away in it.
A singular silver ring and a blue stone had fallen out of place on the band. John had lost it weeks ago, long before his encounter with Matt but Smitty had remembered where it was and snuck out to retrieve it. He’d been meaning to put it back together somehow and give it back but the tensions have been too high between Matt and the others that it was too risky.
Smitty was so focused on the ring in his hands that he didn’t hear the crunch of Matt’s combat boots on the gravel behind him. “Ooh, heya Smit, whatcha got there, him? A ring? What’re gonna propose to John with it now? Might just as well since you’re so far up his ass lately. Oh and look, you even have a few tears ready so you can use ‘em to water the flowers you probably have for him too. You’re pathetic.”
The blonde walked around to the front of the bench to face the other man better. He had the high ground here, especially since his puppet was in such an emotional state. Over what? A small cut that would heal in a few days? Or maybe he’s still feeling guilty over what happened to John? Matt wasn’t sure what the cause of this weakness was, only that he knew he felt betrayed. The only person he thought he could trust to be strong had bent like a straw over a few scrapes and bruises.
Matt took a single step forward and it was enough to startle Smitty, causing him to leap up from the bench to try and retreat. He was in no state to fight right now, in any sense of the word.
“Why are you trying to run away from me, Smitty? Are you scared? Hurt? Upset? Aww, poor lil baby can’t handle his friends being hurt, can he? You’re a fucking traitor, you know that bitch? You can’t even follow one FUCKING rule. I could kill you right now. I just might.”
Those words sent a chill over Smitty. His body froze, unable to fully process what was happening. He tried to step back again but tripped over some stones, causing him to land on his ass. Fully on the ground now, he begins to crawl backward, afraid to turn his back on the man towering in front of him.
Matt’s face twisted in pure disgust, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Smitty. He reached for the pistol that was beginning to be all too familiar to the other man. “You’re really starting to piss me off, Smit.”
This was now the second time Smitty was looking down the barrel of a gun held by the person he worked for. He hated how this was becoming a regular occurrence. “Hey. Hey- I’m sure we could talk about it, c’mon Matt- you can’t just- you can’t just kill me, man. We work together, remember? You’re just gonna shoot me after all I’ve done to help you? I’ve been putting myself on the line here because if the others find out I’m working as your little spy they’re gonna kill not only me but you too, fucker.”
Tension was rising between the two men and all filters were gone with the wind, the same one currently blowing the steam rising from Matt’s furious face into Smitty’s vision. He knew he really fucked up this time. Smitty didn’t have any time to react to the safety being clicked off.
The gunshot rings out breaking the silence. A bullet lodged itself into Smitty’s leg, blood instantly pooling onto the dirt beneath him. He lets out a scream and scrambles to do something to make the pain stop. Matt lets out a cackle at the sight of his play toy writhing around on the ground in pain; “Consider this a warning, Smitty.”
Matt walks away, leaving the injured man to fend for himself. All Smitty can focus on is trying to even his breathing. Remembering that he can try to stop the bleeding if he wraps something above the wound, he struggles to take his hoodie off to try to use the fabric as a makeshift tourniquet. As he’s doing so, his glasses fall off his face, breaking his protected perception of the world, and causing him to descend into the hell he’s gotten himself into.
Thoughts race a million miles a minute through Smitty’s head. If he thought he had flown too close to the sun before, then this was him flying straight into the fires of Hell. Everyone told Smitty growing up that he always had his head up in the clouds. Always daydreaming about the future and what life could be like. He had aspirations to be a star someday, a big shot, and everyone in his life believed him. Smitty had the charisma to succeed in anything he did.
Except survive life, apparently.
His strength starts to falter ever so slightly as he struggles to tie his hoodie around his thigh. He knows it’s not tight enough to help but he can’t pull on it anymore. He feels like he failed those he knew who believed in him. Even the people he’s made new connections with. His allies. His friends. His family . Smitty’s vision started to grow dim as his head started to spin. He was losing blood fast and didn’t know if he was going to make it.
That jolted him back into reality. The sudden fear of dying. Alone in a field at the end of the world. All because he couldn’t be strong enough to be an asshole to the only people he had left at the end of the world.
Smitty didn’t want to leave the others behind. Puffer and Pezzy would have one less person to help with planning out scavenging trips. Droid wouldn’t have someone to keep him awake on nights he had lookout duty. Grizzy would lose one of the only people in their group who would listen to him talk about his Pokemon cards.
John would lose the only person he fully trusted anymore.
Despite the incident, despite the fighting, and despite the guilt, John still cared about Smitty. He didn’t feel worthy of receiving that much unconditional love from someone. Thinking about John made him feel more at peace in his current situation.
‘Heh, at least we’ll have matching nails again.’ Smitty glanced back down at his hands and sure enough, the chipped yellow polish was now starting to turn into a pinkish color from his own blood. The thought wasn’t as comforting as he thought it would be. The brunette knew he would die out here by this lonesome bench still full of the weight of his sins. He couldn’t believe he let himself be used by Matt, purely for the other man’s own selfish cause.
Smitty never got any of the extra loot the two of them found after scavenging the places the others had plans to visit. Smitty never got thanked for his information. Smitty didn’t get anything but an everlasting ache in his chest where his heart sat, caged up like a canary wanting to be free. He should’ve listened to its cries at the start, but he realized his mistakes too late.
He was starting to feel himself slip in and out of consciousness as the world grew impossibly duller. In his deliriousness, Smitty thought he heard John’s voice call out for him. One last delusion from his subconscious to try and ease the pain he felt, how sweet.
“-itty! Where are you?”
No, John was calling out for him. He could still be saved. Smitty mustered up the little bit of strength he had left and called out. Falling back to the ground, he wasn’t even sure if he had said anything. Smitty felt his eyes grow heavy and the last thing he saw was a halo of blonde and brown dyed hair hovering over him. A flash of yellow nail polish passed by his face, holding his head up as he shut his eyes.