Chapter Text
“Don't look at me, Hopkins.”
“Sorry.”
Of course he would know. He always knew, he was like a psychic or something. He could read minds. A mind-reading werewolf.
That was a billion dollar movie idea, Jimmy decided, now lamenting over the unfortunate truth that he'd probably never even get to pitch it.
“Gary.”
“James.”
“I don't want to die.”
Gary snorted. Fucking snorted . That New England asshole.
“Grow up.” He paused for milliseconds. Even that felt too long. “Well, I suppose it's too late for that, isn't it? Man up.”
“Why aren't you scared ?!” His fist was itching to meet a certain vulnerable jaw. “You should be scared , Gary!”
“Scared of what? Death? I'm Gary Smith .”
Oddly, that was a very good reason for why he shouldn't be scared at all. Gary Smith was a conniving, fearless little bastard who cared about nobody but himself (and, although he wouldn't admit it, Petey.)
Jimmy wouldn't be surprised if Gary could somehow cheat death.
“If there's a heaven, there's no way you're getting in.”
Gary snorted again. It didn't seem quite so condescending this time. “Don't be so sure. I know people.”
Could that have been a joke?
A genuinely funny joke where the punchline wasn't somebody's pain?
If only Gary was this close to death all the time.
“Why'd you do it, Gary?” He echoed.
A huff. A sigh. A slight shuffle and a wet sound. A held-back grunt of pain.
“It was easy.” Came the eventual mutter back. “Too easy, Jimbo; Bullworth was practically begging for a leader with an IQ above room temperature.”
“Why'd you do it to me ?” Now he was asking a real question.
“You were convenient.”
Jimmy waited for something to be added on, but nothing came. Only cold silence. He opened his mouth to speak and his voice came out almost worried. “Gary?”
“What?”
“Oh.”
“What, did you think I died ? It's gonna take more than a little flesh wound to take me out.” A few seconds passed. This was definitely off. “Aw, Jimmy, are you worried about me? How sweet .” He placed his open palm on Jimmy's chest and barely refrained from pulling away like he'd just touched acid and now it was melting the skin from his flesh and the meat from his bones. He grinned a fierce grin when his hand was manually removed and put it right back. It was pulled off. The third time it was completely slapped away.
“You aren't upset enough.”
“Not this again. I keep telling you, Hopkins-”
“Yeah, yeah, you're Gary Smith, you don't feel anything and you don't care about anything because you're just so bad .”
“Sounds like I've been rubbing off on you.” The remark was neither wanted nor necessary.
“What about Pete, Gary?”
“Femmeboy? He'll live. There's a bronze medal Olympic swimmer out there with Petey's name on him.”
“You're a dick.”
“I'm a Smith.”
“Those things are synonymous.”
“Saving your eloquence for death. How romantic.”
Jimmy lifted himself onto his elbows and turned his attention back to Gary. He appeared calmer than usual, like he wasn't thinking a mile a minute. It was weird and phenomenally out of character. “How is this romantic?”
“Romantic as in the era .” Gary paused, then his lips cracked into a grin. “You'd know if you hadn't wasted history shooting spitballs at whoever had your panties in a twist that day.”
“Well, it doesn't matter now, does it?”
“Passion, knowledge, emotion, nature..” He almost seemed dreamy as he spoke. Partially the mocking kind of dreamy he used to mock Jimmy about young love , but another kind too. An unfamiliar and uncomfortably sincere kind. “Mostly things I have no interest in, but the Romantics ate it up like Mr Burton with a freshman girl.”
Gary paused as if expecting some sort of rebuttal. None came. His grin faltered.
“What else?”
That wasn't what he anticipated.
“What else?”
“Yeah, about the Romantics.”
“Are you serious ?” He sat up. Their eyes met. Jimmy's eyebrows furrowed. Much better.
“Dead serious.”
He returned to laying aimlessly on his back. It hurt when he hit the ground.
“To think you're spending your last few minutes doing the one thing you've spent the last year avoiding like the plague.”
“Just tell me, Gary!”
Uncharacteristically, Gary obeyed . There was no point dwelling on their mutual impending doom, after all. Not when his final breaths could be spent educating Jimmy for the last time..well, ever .
“The Romantics believed in not following rules, being spontaneous, and being creative over being reasonable. They rejected society and progress and despised peace and rationality.” Like Jimmy.
“Sounds like you.”
He huffed. “Do you want to learn or not?”
“Whatever.”
“Mary Shelley was a Romantic.” The silence was telling. “She wrote Frankenstein , moron."
“What, like the monster?”
“Like the scientist.” Another uneducated silence. “ Jesus, Hopkins- Frankenstein was the name of the scientist .
“Then what was Frankenstein called?” Jimmy asked, much like an idiot would. Gary wanted to kill him.
“James.”
“What?”
“It was called James.”
Jimmy was silent for a few doubtful seconds. He almost made Gary look at him. “Are you bullshitting me?”
“No, no, it was definitely named James. It was a..monstrous, vile creature, aimlessly wandering the earth and seeking revenge against its creator.”
It was pleasantly familiar when Jimmy's knuckles met his arm. He hissed through his teeth at the weak punch. They both went silent.
It was an unpleasant reminder of their ephemeral mortality. Of the way that blood was pooling on the ground between them and the way that Gary was pretending that he wanted to lie still and flat, by choice .
They were scared. It was scary.
Jimmy slipped onto his back. His arms had given way.
“Gary?”
“Frankenstein?”
“I'm scared.”
“You were going to die regardless, and you are going to die whether you like it or not. There's no point in fearing the inevitable.”
“You are the worst person I could've died with.”
“The feeling is mutual, Hopkins.”
Jimmy didn't reply. He didn't fight. He'd done enough fighting. The few seconds of silence between them were agonisingly long. Worrying.
“Gary?”
“Jesus, Hopkins, what now ?”
“ Forgive me for trying to make sure you're alive , your highness.”
“You're stupider than I thought if you truly believe I'm going to let you outlive me.” Jimmy rolled his eyes, although he almost welcomed the narcissism because it was Gary , truly Gary, in a time and place where Truly Gary was not welcome. “Look. Up there.”
A few dozy seconds before Jimmy realised that Gary was referring to the sky. “It doesn't say ‘gullible’, does it?”
Gary laughed.
Not a maniacal laugh like something out of a bad movie or Columbine found footage, but an actual laugh , like the noise a human would make.
That was definitely not a normal Gary sound.
It wasn't bad, either.
“It's Orion.” One of them coughed. Neither of them mentioned it. Gary vaguely gestured at a cluster of stars. His hand was trembling. “The one that looks like two triangles.”
“With the line between them?”
A hand clamped on Jimmy's shoulder. It squeezed a little too tight. How Gary had the strength for any of this was a mystery. “That's right, Jimmy-boy. Very good.”
“What's Orion's deal, then?” He ignored the touch and how he could barely feel it.
“There are a few interpretations.” His finger now pointed out three vertical stars to the right of the constellation. The shield. “Some say he tried it with a girl who didn't want him and got shot over it.”
“Like with a gun?”
“Bow and arrow, James.” He’d really hated it when Gary called him that, but the realisation that he might never hear it again was scary. “Other interpretations say that he wanted to kill every animal, so Gaea - don't look at me like an idiot, come on - Gaea, goddess of the Earth, sent a giant scorpion down to kill him.”
“Did he win?”
“Am I enjoying this interrogation?” Jimmy stopped talking. About time. “Zeus turned Orion into a constellation. He made the scorpion one too, trapped the two enemies together in the sky forever.”
“Orion didn't really lose, then.”
“He did.”
“Yeah, by your standards. Nobody wins by your standards.”
Gary just about cracked a grin. “Okay, Jimmy, tell me how Orion won.”
“Well, he's there forever.”
“Is he now?”
“Shut up, Gary.” Jimmy's pout was audible. “He didn't ‘win’, sure, but he's still remembered. People are still talking about him.”
“Go on.” His voice was almost a whisper.
“Orion died, but so what? He fought a badass giant scorpion, challenged the gods, and ended up becoming super famous even though he's just a bunch of stars now.”
“Insightful.” Barely audible.
“Even though the scorpion killed him, he was never really kicked off his throne. So, in a way, Orion never died at all, cause he's still alive in stories.”
He didn't even get a response this time. No doubt Gary was thinking about the most cutting response possible to completely take down everything he'd just said.
But no response ever came.
In a way, that was the meanest thing possible. Saying - well, not saying - absolutely nothing, as if his rant wasn't even worth a response.
But they just lay there.
Jimmy's hands felt sticky but he couldn't really move them.
“Gary?”
He swallowed. Gary remained silent.
There was no surprise there. He had clearly gotten very sick of that.
“I think I'm in love with you.”
The silence stretched far enough that it was no longer just an awkward break. Jimmy wished he knew what Gary was thinking.
“I wish you weren't you.” He paused. “I wish I wasn't me.”
Nothing. Nada. No response.
A nervous laugh. “Are you always this polite when you're dying?”
Oh, shit.
Turning his head was excruciating but the pain went forgotten when he saw him .
He looked so peaceful. Jimmy would think he was asleep if he hadn't seen exactly what Gary looked like during his periodic rests, and it was not peaceful.
But now he was at peace. He was calm, fully calm, and not thinking and plotting and scheming.
Jimmy felt happy for him.
He shuffled closer with more difficulty than he was anticipating.
And he howled.
He howled until he stopped breathing and his mouth bled like an open wound.
A few months ago, the very last thing Jimmy Hopkins wanted to do was hug Gary Smith.
On this night, it would be the last thing he'd ever do.