Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Five Weeks

 

Chapter One.

“Day One”

“It’s terminal…” He murmured, staring at the large screen above him, “Two. Terminal two.” He fixed his hand on the extended suitcase again and began treading towards his gate. People bustled by him, the intercom above announced the occasional ‘Flight delayed’ or ‘Flight cancelled.’ Another board came into view; he stopped and looked up to check it. The blue tint of the screen shined, and the black frame of the TV glared from the sunlight behind. Dawn had just passed; he could feel a small quiver in his breath. Shining anticipation? Fear? He couldn’t tell, not yet at least. The large window at the back of the airport which brought light into the airport was beaming, he could see planes outside either on the runway or just coming in onto the tarmac. He gripped the strap of his bag tightly, the other strap falling to his side and he held it. The bag slanted across his back, brushing against his soft, green fabric exterior. He readjusted it and slipped both straps around his arm as he continued to walk. He glanced to his wristwatch, then to the board. Two hours until his flight took off. He would have preferred more time, getting through the international security checks would take a while.

He shuffled his way through the line, then through the baggage checks, and finally, the passport check. He slipped his passport through the opening in the glass window to the officer behind, a shimmering Porcelain Bowl. The officer took the pass and flipped it open, contrasting the photo with the man in front of him, the man being a lanky dark green Scarf.
“Lindsey.” The officer said, reading off the pass. “Yeah.” He answered back. “Heh, like the guitarist.” The officer chuckled, sliding his passport back to him, “You’re good.” “Thanks.” He walked past the booth as the officer called, “Next!”
Lindsey rolled his bag away from the security checks and into the duty-free zone, passing aisles of wine and perfume. If the path had been just a little less clear the place could have easily been a maze. Lindsey checked his watch again; he had a little under an hour left until his flight. Outside of the gates were rows of chairs and seats for waiting, lucky for him, it was early enough in the morning that there were a few chairs spare. He took his seat in front of his gate and got comfortable; he could smell the unpleasant scent of jet fuel seeping in from outside.

The screen above the gate entrance lit up, ‘Boarding,’ it read. A small line had already begun to form near the kiosk. Lindsey leaned down to his suitcase and unzipped the front pocket. He felt around for his boarding pass for a few seconds but felt nothing. He kept his composure and slid his bag off his shoulder, unzipping the front pocket and digging his hand around. The cardboard slip brushed past his fingers; he took it with two fingers and pulled it out. Taking his bags, he joined the line. Soon enough, he reached the desk and handed the lady at the desk, a Binder, his boarding pass. The slip of hard paper glided from his pale hand and into the lady’s. She ran the slip under the scanner as it beeped.
“You’re all good, Mr. Grey.”
He took his pass and stepped forward into the gate. Ahead of him loomed a long hallway, presumably connecting to the plane. The light grey carpet stretched to the very back of the hall, he sighed to himself, partly relieved that he didn’t need to go outside and face the cold. The sound of the plane's engines as well as the smell of fuel brought him unease. To distract himself, he focused on the sound of his suitcase rolling briskly against the carpet floor.
He swung around the corner of the hall, meeting with the open door of the plane. The flight attendant, a bundle of Cables, took his pass.
She looked at it for a moment before handing it back with a smile, “Welcome onboard sir.” “Thanks,” Lindsey replied.
Lindsey found his seat and took off his backpack. He popped the overhead locker and placed his suitcase in gently. Backpack in hand, he unzipped the middle pocket and fished around for his book. An older man, probably mid-fifties, cleared his throat behind him. Lindsey turned around, his gaze meeting that of a dusty old Book. “Oh, sorry.” He apologised, scooting aside to let him through. After he had passed, he slipped back out into the aisle and continued to search, eventually finding his book. He removed the paperback book from his backpack and stored it under his arm, using his free hand to place his bag into the locker above.

He squeezed between the chairs on his row and the ones in front, trying to reach his window seat. He dodged the oncoming horde of passengers and sat down. He stared out the window, past the tarmac and to the distant cliffs. The crisp snow on the mountain horizon shined flamboyantly as it coated the alps like a blanket. He watched patiently as other planes breezed in from the skies, most being United Airlines, naturally. He pressed his palm against the plastic window as a strong chill struck his hand. If he wasn’t already pale enough this morning, the cold drained the last bit of colour from his skin. He checked his watch again, this time for the date. ‘November.’ As good of a time as any for a vacation, Lindsey certainly agreed to that testament. He had five weeks to make it worthwhile, and he was about to spend the first day flying.

A few hours had passed since the plane took off, an elderly woman sitting next to Lindsey was watching a medical drama and the man next to her slept with his head slumped against the headrest. Lindsey opened the window beside him, but nothing was out there. A few clouds and a now setting sun. He closed the window. His book sat on the tray table in front of him, he had finished it hours ago. Out of boredom, Lindsey reached into his coat pocket and removed his passport. He flipped it open and stared at his photo. ‘Lindsey Grey. 27. Male. Scarf. 5’11. Passport Expiry: 5/12/2026.’ Your average white collar officer worker. Somehow, this wasn’t any better than staring endlessly into the sky. He snapped the passport shut and put it back into his pocket, closing up his coat and leaning back into his seat. His vision fluttered, his eyelids dropped. His mind wandered but he didn’t chase it. He let his conscious drift away as he fell into a deep sleep.

When Lindsey later woke, the flight had begun its descent. Wiping his weary eyes, he turned to the window and pried it open. The light from outside bursted in, blinding Lindsey for a moment. Lindsey shut his eyes, wincing and turning away. He opened them up again after a moment, accustoming his sight to the day. Once he looked out the window again, he was amazed. Despite there being many mountains where he was from, none of them compared to this. The frosted snow dripped off the mountain tops like icing on a cake. There were trees that lined the bottoms of the alps, tall, beautiful trees. The sunlight creeping over the hills painted the mountains a blood orange. It looked like a scene right out of a painting. The landing was rather bumpy, helping to shake Lindsey awake even more.

Eventually Lindsey made it off the plane and into Customs, where he met with another officer. “Anything to declare? Medication, food, drinks,” The officer questioned. “No,” Lindsey answered. He didn’t have much at all really, only his backpack and his carry-on suitcase, which didn’t weigh much either. After a couple more brief questions, the officer directed Lindsey to the exit. “Welcome to America.”
He stepped out of the airport and into the fresh air, it was cold, but not as bad as home. He shuddered and quickly zipped up his coat, shoving his hands into his pockets. A single question floated up in his mind, “Where now?” The thought never crossed his mind. The idea for the trip was quick, he didn’t plan as much as he should have. Suddenly, an idea arose. It was far from a good one, but it was an idea.

So, Lindsey started to walk. And walk. And walk. And he walked until he couldn’t recognise where he was. His only guide was the thick black road that spanned for miles. The only thing keeping Lindsey from thirst was the temperature, the cold kept him from drying out. But soon his legs began to ache and stuck on the side of the road surrounded by forest, he was left with little choice but to stick his thumb out and hope for a merciful passerby. And so, Lindsey waited. And waited. And waited. And waited until he saw a car on the on the horizon. Unfortunately for Lindsey, it didn’t stop. Lindsey shrugged, you don’t win them all. Eventually one did stop. A family of three sat inside, a Lava Lamp father, Wood Plank mother and lastly a Wooden Lamp.
“Hey.” The man at the wheel greeted. “Hi.” Lindsey greeted back. “Where you headed?” Lindsey didn’t respond for a moment, he stammered, “Uh, just somewhere to eat?” The man looked to his wife for approval, she nodded, “Hop in.”

The four of them bumbled down the road, a tall sign soon faded in from behind the trees. A dining establishment, as it was made clear by the father.
“Here, we’ll drop you off here.” “Thanks.” Lindsey said, “Dad, can we get food?” The son chimed from beside Lindsey. “Sorry son, not today,” the father responded.
They dropped Lindsey off with his luggage, and the car bobbed back down the road, off into the distance. He looked over to the diner. Inside were a few people eating; it looked warm. He stumbled inside, his suitcase getting caught on the door frame as he entered. Getting looks from the employees, he nervously laughed, “Sorry.”
He blushed from embarrassment and quickly sat down at the counter, propping himself up onto a red cushioned stool. He slid his suitcase next to his food and rested his backpack on his lap.

A waitress slid over to him and pulled out a notepad, she looked almost 40, with the lipstick and makeup not making her look any younger.
“What can I get you, hon?” The plain Bagel croaked, her voice like glass on sand. “Just, uhh, a coffee please.” Lindsey said. “Anything else?” She replied, “Uh, can I get a menu?” Lindsey asked. “Sure.” The waitress replied, leaning down and pulling out a menu from under the counter. “Here.”
She gave him the menu; he scanned through it as she walked around to the kitchen. When she came back, he told her, “Waffles, please.” “Sure, hon.” She replied, strolling off to the kitchen. Lindsey waited, tapping his foot against the floor. Soon the woman returned with the coffee in hand, “Here, the waffles will be out soon.” “Thanks.” Lindsey replied. He wrapped his hands around the mug, the cold from outside melted from his hands. Lindsey’s watch glistened in the light, alerting him. He checked it, it was early in the morning. Eight O’clock.

Lindsey watched as the Bagel returned to the counter, only now did he notice the name tag stuck to her chest, ‘Rachel.’ She lowered the plate in front of Lindsey, he looked over it. Syrup was lathered over and under the ridges of the waffles, a square of pale nutter sat on top of the stack. He looked back at Rachel, “Thanks,” he told her, but she had already walked off. He began to eat, savouring the meal delicately. He licked the syrup off his lips and finished. Hardly anything but the few remnants of syrup and butter remained on the plate.
“Will that be all?”
Rachel returned, Lindsey looked up,
“Oh, yeah, thank you.”
He said, taking one last sip of his coffee before he fumbled for a few bills to pay for his meal.
“Thank you!”
He called out as he rolled his bags out of the diner hurriedly. He didn’t know why he was rushing, it wasn’t like he had somewhere to be. It had gotten warmer now, he could feel a breeze whisk past him. Though still cold, the diners embrace had perked him up enough to continue.

He treaded his way down the side of the road, keeping his thumb stuck out passively. His upper arm hung low to his side, his lower arm stuck out and pointed out in an L shape. Cars skipped past, he kept walking. Slowly walking. His legs carried him further than he expected. He slouched over, kneeling in an attempt to regain his balance. Lindsey looked over his shoulder, a small van rolled up behind him. He hadn’t noticed it before, but he wasn’t complaining that it was here now. He stood up and sheepishly stuck his thumb out. The van slowed, creeping up beside him. A tall figure inside slid across the passenger seat and stretching to open the door. A Candy Bar sat at the wheel.
“Hey,” he spoke, voice just a bit deeper than Lindsey’s.
“Hi,” Lindsey spoke.
The Candy Bar lent him a hand. Lindsey took his hand and climbed up into the front seat. He struggled to get his bag off inside the cramped area.
“Here, let me help,” the Candy Bar said, reaching to take Lindsey’s bag off.
He squeezed the bag between the two front seats and into the empty space behind. Lindsey heaved his suitcase up and secured it in the foot space below.
“Thanks,” Lindsey chuckled. The Candy Bar looked about Lindseys age, around 26 or 27. “I’m George,” the Bar spoke, “Lindsey,” he returned.
“Nice to meet you Lindsey.”
Lindsey shut the passenger door and clipped his seatbelt in.
“Where are you off to Lindsey?”
George asked, a small smile radiating from his face. Lindsey couldn’t help but share the feeling.
He smiled, “You know what, I haven’t actually planned that far.”
George let out a small laugh.
“That makes two of us then.”
“How do you mean?”
Lindsey queried, George opened his mouth to speak as he started to drive.
“Oh, you’re a tourist too?”
Lindsey realised, George smirked.
“Correct, been on the road for the last few weeks.”
“Headed anywhere specific or?”
Lindsey asked.
“Nah, just driving.”
George responded.
“I see.”
George took his eyes off the road, looking Lindsey up and down for a moment,
“So, what brings you here?”
George questioned. Lindsey turned to face him, George looked back out at the road.
“I wanted to get out, see a bit of the world, even if it’s only for a small while.”
Lindsey said.
“Oh yeah? What have you seen so far?”
George asked.

“A few trees, a lot of trees actually, and a diner.”
George smiled wider, “There’s a lot to be seen around here, or so I’ve been told.” George informed.
“I’ve heard about a few hiking trails…” Lindsey chimed in, George looked to him in curiously, “That’s it?” He said. “Yeah, I didn’t really plan much.”
George glanced to the space behind the front seats and spoke again, “Here, take the wheel.”
Lindsey raised an eyebrow in confusion, but did it anyways. He took the wheel and let George rummage around the back part of the van. As much as Lindsey wanted to see what else what back there, he kept his focus on the road. George leaned back out of the crevice between the seats and into his chair, taking the steering wheel again. In his hands was now a brochure, he handed it to Lindsey.
“Maybe you’ll find something on here.” He took the brochure and flipped through it, from skiing to hiking and camping. There was more to be done than he had thought.

Lindsey ran his thumb along the thin ridges of the pamphlet, his lips parted.
“What have you done so far?” He spoke, folding the paper back up and sitting it on his lap.
George tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel and pondered, he clicked his tongue, “Not much actually, I just got here… Two days ago?”
“You don’t remember?” Lindsey said, he almost choked on his words as he tried to correct himself, “Sorry, I meant,”
“No, no, it’s fine, I just haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep this week.” George reassured.
He looked to Lindsey, he smirked, “Don’t worry, I can still drive.” Lindsey laughed a little.
Lindsey put his hands on his knees, tapping his index finger against his knee vigorously. George kept steady on the road, keeping his eyes on the path ahead. He looked to Lindsey, seeing his finger tapping.
“Something on your mind Lindsey?” He asked, turning to face the road again.
“Huh? Oh,” Lindsey snapped into reality. George snickered. Lindsey stayed quiet for a period of time, thinking of how to phrase his question. “Hey, would you mind if I just travelled with you? Just for the day.”

He would understand ‘No.’ He wouldn’t mind if he said it either, but he figured he might as well try.
“Sure,” George answered, quicker than Lindsey expected.
His eyes widened in surprise. “Thanks.” Lindsey smiled. George turned and smiled back. “Oh, and you can call me ‘Lis,’” ‘Lis.’ The name stuck with Lindsey more than he thought. He had never been called ‘Lis’ often, but he liked it.
“Sure, Lis.” George said, testing the name. It sounded better to Lindsey when said. He couldn’t help but grin a little again.
Further down the road, George reached over for the window controls on the driver door, first asking, “Do you mind?” Lindsey, who had been gazing out the side window, turned to face him.
“Hmm?” He uttered, his gaze fell onto George's hand, the finger primed above the window button.
“Oh, not at all,” Lindsey spoke, the window beside him slowly fell out of sight, allowing fresh air to permeate throughout the van. They had been driving for a little over an hour now, some small talk occurred here and there, until George’s eyes lit up. Lindsey’s eyes were closed, consumed by thought, until George rapidly tapped his leg with the back of his hand.

“Here!” George alerted, Lindsey jolted up. George's enthusiasm faded hastily as he read Lindseys face, pure confusion, “Ah, sorry I just,” George scrambled.
“Huh? What did you want to show me?” Lindsey answered, George turned back to him, his excitement returning in the form of slight embarrassment as he blushed.
“Ha, sorry it’s just a little hiking spot that I’ve wanted to check out since I started my trip.” George ended the explanation as quickly as he could, intending to not elaborate any further as to avoid anymore embarrassment.
“Is it any good?” Lindsey replied. George lit up again, this time trying to make it a bit more subtle. He blurted, “Yes.” This time he didn’t look back at Lindsey, only staring out the windshield in shame.
“You wanna go?” Lindsey asked. “Only if you want to,” “Yes please,” George immediately answered.
Lindsey giggled at George’s peculiar behaviour, George stayed facing forward, but a grin cracked through his weak façade. George laughed, slumping his head onto the wheel. “Sorry, sorry, I just,” He paused, trying to think of a way to say that he really wanted to go on this hike without sounding so childish.

They sat in silence for most of the way to the hiking trail, once they reached it George parked the van. He the car jumped as he changed the gear and took out the keys. Lindsey awkwardly looked down to his suitcase, not feeling very comfortable just leaving it there.
“Hey George?” Lindsey spoke as George opened the driver side door.
He turned to Lindsey, “Yeah?”
“Do you mind if I like, put this in the back?” Lindsey fumbled to get the suitcase out between his feet and jerked it up and onto his lap.
“Yeah, sure, just come around back here.” Lindsey took the case and stumbled out of the front seat.
He carried his small carry-on suitcase around to the back of the van, George swung around and opened up the two back doors that led inside. Lindsey finally got a good look as to what was back there. The most notable item was a large blue inflatable mattress, which looked like it could fit about two people. The makeshift bed itself didn’t look bad at all; it was fitted with a long white sheet that wrapped around the entire mattress. There were about 4 pillows, but only two were actually on the bed, the other two had been scattered around the space near the bed. A laptop charger sat on top of a stack of books which rested at the closest corner to the two men.

“Here,” George offered, reaching to take the suitcase.
“Oh, I,” Lindsey stuttered in a frail attempt of protest, but George took the bag anyway.
“Thanks,” Lindsey said. “I like the setup.” Lindsey complimented.
George grinned, “It’s my home away from home, just with a few key differences,” Lindsey chuckled, making George simper.
“Right, we should get moving,” George waved, ushering Lindsey to follow.
Ahead was a small clearing, from the trees, in the shape of a semi circle. A small information board was planted in the middle, showing the trail and its many routes. George pointed at the first trail he saw, it led forward and curved around back into itself like an ouroboros.
“This one looks good,” George murmured.
“It’s a little short, isn’t it?” Lindsey remarked.
“Well, I don’t want to take up all of your time,” George expressed.
“It’s alright, I wasn’t going to do anything else with it.” Lindsey said.
George took a moment, looking back at the info board. He raised his hand and pointed at a different route. Lindsey leaned closer, he could feel the warmth radiating off George’s body.
“This one.” George said, finger pressing against the board. “It goes all the way past this waterfall,” George told Lindsey, dragging his index finger along the path shown. The two kept their heads close together, Lindsey’s gaze followed George’s pointing finger as it crept along the board. “Down under the forest canopy.” Lindsey nodded, “And over near the river,”
“Lot of water,” Lindsey remarked, “Worth it.” George turned to Lindsey, smiling wildly as he said it.

They began to walk, the dense foliage surrounded them closely. Each step they took was followed by the crunching of leaves underneath.
“So Lis, where have you flown in from?” George asked.
“Europe.” Lindsey answered.
“Really? How’s life over there?” George queried.
“It’s nice, cold, especially cold where I’m from.” Lindsey told, “Does it get very cold here?”
“This close to Canada? You’re feeling it.” George boasted.
The two walked further, George pulled his hands out of his pocket and shakily exhaled into them, rubbing them together hurriedly. Lindsey stared at him as they walked, George felt his gaze and looked back at him.
“It’s cold okay?” George jokingly defended, Lindsey unzipped his coat and reached in.
He fumbled around inside one of the pockets before pulling out a pair of woollen black gloves. He held the two gloves together and offered them to George.
“Here.” George smiled,
“No no, it’s okay,” he declined, but his shaking hands said otherwise.
“Come on, you need them more than me,” Lindsey insisted.
George looked at Lindsey, then to the gloves, then back to Lindsey. George took the gloves and slipped them on swiftly before shoving his hands back into his jacket pockets.
“Thanks, I owe you.” He said, voice quivering from the cold. The two shared a quick smile before focusing back on the trail.

After walking for 15 more minutes, they soon began to hear the faint sound of trickling water. The sound only grew louder and louder the longer they walked.
George was the first to spot the source of the noise, “Right there!” He snapped his fingers while pointing.
The packed forest parted up ahead as the trail curved, through the clearing was the waterfall that spewed river water into a lake below. George jogged lightly ahead, peering closer at the sight. Lindsey followed suit, coming up behind George and watching.
“Woah.” Lindsey commented, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” George gawked, looking like a giddy child.
“Do you think we could get down there?” George proposed.
“I wish.” Lindsey responded longingly.
“Sure there is,” George challenged.
Lindsey turned around, “Huh?”
George stood up straight again and walked further down the path, after a short distance he came across a wooden bridge overlooking the waterfall.
“Hey Lis!” He yelled; Lindsey paced over to him and stood next to him.
“Wow…” He whispered in awe.

The rocks of the waterfall glistened and shined; the flowing water boasted its turquoise tint. A white cloud of foam built up at the bottom of the falls, slowly dispersing into the rest of the lake. George leaned closer, pressing himself up against the railing. The wooden guard began to creak; Lindsey stood beside George.
“Careful.” Lindsey noted. George pushed himself off the railing.
“Oh, thanks Lis.” George scanned the vicinity as Lindsey looked closer at the falls.
Along down the path was more forestry, partly separated to make way for a slope that disappeared out of sight.
“What’s that?” George chimed, pointing at the slope.
“Huh? Oh, I’m not sure.” Lindsey replied. George strutted over to it, Lindsey quickly spun his head from the falls to George.
“Hey! Just, wait!” He called out, but he didn’t stop, “I’m just checking!” He confirmed.
He peered through the trees and down the slope, it led down to more foliage and a few rocks that stretched down below to the lake.
He turned back and yelled to Lindsey, “You wanna see the falls even closer?”
Lindsey was curious now, he snuck over to George, “What are you talking about?”
He walked up to George, peeking down the slope.
“Don’t think we’re allowed down there,” he chuckled, but George wasn’t joking.
Lindsey looked back at him, he frowned at his serious expression.
“You aren’t serious right?” George smiled, lowering his foot onto the slope and creeping down the uneven surface. Rocks stuck out of the dirt slope left and right, Branches and leaves intruded from each angle.
“George!” Lindsey yelled, but he didn’t stop.
“Come on! You wanted to see nature, right?” George yelled back.
Lindsey held onto a nearby tree tightly, watching anxiously as George climbed down further and further. Lindsey looked onto the path, then back down to George.
“Okay fine!” He shouted and began to step down the hill.
He made sure to place each step with careful precision, holding onto anything stable nearby for constant support. He continued to move down the hill cautiously, but once he saw that George had already disappeared from his sight, he sped up. He started to skip steps he normally would have taken for safety; he became less reliant on the trees, opting to crouch and use his hands to almost crawl down. He pushed past a branch, accidentally getting his coat collar snagged by it. He stumbled and instinctively grabbed for the nearest tree, squirming as he tried to keep his balance. He managed to keep still and maintain his composure. He gently reached up and freed his coat from the branch.

After finally reaching the bottom, George greeted him by a tree.
“Lis! I was getting worried for a minute,” he ran up to Lindsey, taking him by the arm.
“Here, you’ve got stuff all over you.” He brushed the leaves and debris off his coat, sweeping as much as he could.
Lindsey caught his breath as George cleaned his clothing.
“There we go,” he finished, Lindsey observed George, there wasn’t much on him at all.
Except for a stray leaf caught between the ridges on the top of his wrapper. He took George's shoulder and pulled him closer; George could feel Lindsey’s shaky breath push against his body. Lindsey raised his free arm and used the back of his hand to wave away the leaf. George laughed sheepishly, flustered by the sudden action.
“Thanks.” George said, his voice going faint.
“Lead the way,” Lindsey continued, stepping back and allowing George to keep walking.
“Right, follow me.”
They pushed their way through more bush, swiping at branches and leaves. From the trees they could see the lake, the falls pouring down above it.
“There she is,” George admired as they finally arrived.
They walked over to the shore of the lake; Lindsey knelt and plunged his hand into the water. It was cold, freezing, he yanked his hand out and dried it off on his pants.
“Gonna go for a swim?” George mocked, “I think I’ll pass,” Lindsey responded, turning to George.
The two shifted their gaze from admiring each other to admire the falls.
“I’ll have to come back during summertime,” George noted.
“Yeah,” Lindsey mumbled.
“How are the waterfalls in Europe?” George asked.
“They’re amazing, but I’ve never seen one up close like this,” Lindsey answered. “Thanks, George.” He added.
George returned his gaze to Lindsey, staring in confusion.
“It’s really nice.”
George soon caught on to what he meant, “Oh, yeah, no problem. Thanks for coming with me.” He replied.
After watching the falls for several minutes, George decided to go explore a shortcut he figured would be the way back. The shortcut was covered by more forest, but the biggest obstacle was the river that separated the two sides.
“That water looks knee deep!” Lindsey exclaimed.
“It’s fine, we can just use the rocks.” George countered.
Lindsey sighed, George tried to encourage him, “Come on, it’ll be quick!” George pleaded.
Lindsey stammered, “I, uh… fine.”
They began treading over the rocks, Lindsey’s heartbeat spiked. Whether it was the because of the fear of falling in or something else, either way, his hands still shook. George stuck his tongue out impulsively as he watched his every step meticulously. Lindsey retraced each step George took, taking the same precautions.
“See? Not too hard, is it?” George joked, Lindsey calmed.
“Yeah, I guess so.” The two remained on the rocks, Lindsey’s confidence built up.

Lindsey stood onto another rock, trying to get closer to George, not watching where he placed his footing. His foot landed onto the edge of the rock, which had been splashed with water by the running current. Lindsey slipped and soon lost balance on both legs. George felt a strong force shove into his back as Lindsey fell forwards. Lindseys delayed yell was muffled by the stream of water rushing over his face; George tried to recover but ultimately fell in with him. The two landed side by side in the water, the sheer cold of the water broke gave both of them an adrenaline rush. Lindsey writhed around in the water; George clawed his way up onto the riverbed.
He gasped and looked around, searching for Lindsey, who climbed up out of the water after him. Lindsey groaned and threw himself onto the grass above the riverbed. George fell next to him, the two gasping. They laid in silence, staring at the sky through the tree canopy, before Lindsey spoke up.
“Sorry.” George started to laugh, putting his hands to his face.
Lindsey took a second to process which emotion was appropriate for the moment. He laughed with him; George tried to get out a few words.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Lindsey laughed louder.
“It’s so cold,” Lindsey moaned, “I know,” George laughed.

After trekking back to the van Lindsey tried to ring out his coat, George opened the two doors to the van and began undressing.
“I’ll just be a minute,” he announced as Lindsey grabbed the door before he could close it.
“Wait,” George peered out.
“What?”
“Can you hand me my suitcase; I have some spare clothes inside.”
George snuck back inside the van and grabbed Lindsey’s suitcase.
“Here. Are you sure you don’t want to just wait for me to finish? You can use the van when I’m done.” He offered.
Lindsey smirked and declined, “Thanks but I think I’m a bit too wet for that,” he displayed himself in front of George.
The once dark green Scarf now had his colour reduced to something akin to pitch black.
“Right.”
All the water had practically slid off George’s wrapper the moment he climbed out of the stream. The two were left to their own devices, George undressed inside the van and Lindsey scooted behind the side of the van, unzipping his suitcase and searching for his clothes. Removing a pair of pants and a baggy shirt, he rushed to unbutton his drenched clothing. He put his bundle of wet clothing carefully onto the asphalt underneath the van. Lindsey wasted no time covering himself back up, throwing on his dry clothes. He reached back under the van and cradled the wet bundle in his arms. Using his elbow, he thumped on the van doors.
“Hey George?” He called.
“Hold on!” George’s muffled voice responded, from inside Lindsey could hear George stumble around against the walls.

“You good in there?” Lindsey yelled in concern.
“Yup! It’s just a bit cramped… in here.”
Lindsey leaned against one of the van doors, his clothes dripping onto the floor. He shuddered, even though he had about four layers of clothing on. He exhaled; his breath visible as it floated in the air and faded away. After a minute, George opened up the van doors, Lindsey leaned off as they did. George stepped out of the van, Lindsey spoke.
“Hey have you got anything to dry these?”
“Pass,” George reached out his hands and Lindsey dropped the soaking pile into Georges arms.
“Jesus that’s cold,” he exclaimed, and threw the pile into the van.
“I might need your help to get these hung, I haven’t got the line set up yet.” George noted,
“Oh, alright sure.” Lindsey responded, clambering into the van with George.
George huddled into the corner of the van, picking up a bundle of metal string. He tied one of the ends around a hook above him.
“Can you tie this end to that little hook over there,” George requested, pointing at the other end of the van.
Lindsey tied the other end up, creating a makeshift washing line. George took out a small cup filled with pegs and the two began to string up their clothes.
As Lindsey finished hanging the last of his clothes, George shuffled to the front of the van, reaching through the two seats and slipping his keys into the ignition. The car fires up and George turns on the heater.
“It’s pretty primitive but it should work,” George announced.
Lindsey crept his head out of the van and looked at the sky.
“It’s getting late.” He commented.
George crouched past him, placing one foot out of the van and onto the road.
“Well, I’m guessing that you probably don’t want to keep hitchhiking with a bag of wet clothes.”
The two got out of the van and walked around to the front.
“Not really,” Lindsey answered.
“There’s a motel just a bit further down, we can stop there for the night.” George proposed, “Sure.” Lindsey accepted.
The motel was small, only 8 rooms were actually available and the carpark was somehow even smaller. George parked the van in the last empty slot and opened the glove compartment, grabbing his wallet. “No I’ll pay,” Lindsey stopped him.
“Oh come on,” George whined.
“I’m already taking up enough of your time don’t let me take your money too.”
George went to speak, smiling wide, but quickly decided against it and looked away from Lindsey.
“Alright,” he muttered.

“Room 6,” the weary Hatchet at the table grumbled.
A female voice from the back of the reception called out, “Sam?”
“I’m dealing with a customer, honey,” she yelled back.
Her words almost clumping together mid sentence.
“Love of my life,” Sam smiled.
Lindsey awkwardly smiled back, trying to be nice.
The mysterious voice soon showed itself, a Bottle of Syrup entered from the backdoor.
“Oh, hello.” She said, trying to sound more energetic. The bags under her eyes made the act hard to believe.
“Sam, the AC broke again,” she moaned.
Sam sighed, “Can you get my tools?”
“Sure,” she responded, her focus shifted to Lindsey, “Charlotte,” she greeted.
Her eyes were a tint red, her nose was runny and she had bags under her eyes so heavy she looked like she was being pulled to the floor.
“Lindsey,” he responded. She would have shaken his hand, but she was rather tired.
Sam left the computer and swiped a pair of keys from the board behind her, briefly kissing Charlotte on the cheek. She smiled before disappearing behind the door, Sam walked back to Lindsey and dropped the keys onto the desk.
“Room 6.” Sam grumbled.
“Thanks,” Lindsey said.
Lindsey unlocked the door to his room, the musk of air freshener and washing powder floated mindlessly in the air. The furniture had a dull yellow tint to it; the lampshade, the curtains, the carpet and two beds with yellow sheets He swung around to the bathroom, there was a toilet, sink and shower. All the essentials. He pulled the shower curtain aside, reaching in and twisting the heat knob. Taking a towel off the rack, Lindsey gently placed it onto the tile floor beneath the shower and began to undress. He placed his coat onto a rack that hung off the door and tossed his other clothes onto the floor beneath the sink. The door outside creaked, Lindsey stuck his head out of the bathroom, hiding the rest of his body behind the door. George knocked timidly on the door as he leaned in.
“Hey, do you mind if I just used your shower?” George entered, eyeing up the room.
“Oh, hey, I was just about to have one do you mind waiting?” Lindsey answered, George nodded, and stepped back outside. “Oh, you can wait inside!” Lindsey called after him.
“It’s alright, I need to grab something anyways,” George slipped out and shut the door.
Lindsey shut the bathroom door and stepped into the shower. He hadn’t felt this hot since he had left the airport. He swung the curtain shut and began to wash himself.
George threw the backdoors of the van open and jumped inside. The cold rushed in after him, he quickly shut it out. The heat of the van was just enough to keep him from shuddering. He crawled over to the mattress sheathed by a wooly blanket. He plunged himself onto the inflatable bed, feeling the softness of the sheets. He sighed, and rose to a kneel. He pulled away the blanket from one side of the mattress. Empty, he didn’t expect anything else. He frowned.
Lindsey stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. He slipped his fingers onto the small black handle attached to the window above the sink, prying the glass open to let the steam out. Grabbing his bundle of clothes, he walked out of the bathroom and dumped them onto the bed closest to the window. George was missing, he looked outside through the curtains. He decided to get dressed before he began searching.
“George!” Lindsey yelled, banging the bottom of his fist against the van doors.
George yelped, scrambling around inside.
“You can use the shower now!” He alerted.
“Yeah, right, thanks!” George dismissed him, his voice trembling in panic.
“Uh, are you alright in there?” Lindsey asked, George audibly gasped.
“No! I mean, yes! Don’t come in!” George insisted, Lindsey backed away.
“Alright, the showers open when you need it. Just don’t take forever alright?” Lindsey walked away from the van and into his room.
George snuck out after, weaselling his way back into Lindsey’s room.
“Lindsey?” He whispered, looking around the room for him.
A stray cough from the bathroom gave him away.
“Yeah.” Lindsey spoke up, voice low.
“You good?” George asked in concern.
“Oh, yeah I’m fine.” Lindsey perked up.
George could hear the sound of the sink flowing as he approached the bathroom. As he stepped through the doorframe, Lindsey quickly shoved his hands under the running water and nodded.
“Just washing my hands, bathroom’s all yours.” He quickly finished up, slipping out of the bathroom, his smile fading as he passed George.
George rubbed his fist with his hands as he watched Lindsey crawl into his bed. He frowned, before dodging back into the bathroom and running the shower.
Lindsey rolled onto his side, pulling up the sheets over his shoulder and digging his head into his pillows. The only light in the room was that from the bathroom, shining from under the door. The sound of the water hitting the hard tile floor brought a strange calm to Lindsey. It could have been plausible that it was just white noise, but there was something about the presence of another being that felt so soothing. The cold outside wrapped around his body like a tumour, feeding off his heat. He held himself closer, and closer, and closer, until his eyelids fell closer, closer, closed.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two
“Day 2-3”

Waking up felt forced. The morning light shot through the curtains and pried its way into his eyes. His face scrunched up, the warm air burned his skin. He could already feel the fabric of a tie tighten around his throat. His white button up shirt melted into his body. He didn’t want to wake up, just to face another day of office work, signing sheets of white paper in his white walled cubicle in his white walled office. Everything. Just so bland.

A knocking came from his door, he shot up. He looked down at himself and noted the absence of his white-collar coat and black noose-like tie. His eyes still burnt from the stuffy room air. The knocking came again. Lindsey had almost forgotten where he was. He swung his feet out of bed and answered the incessant rapping at the door.
“Lis!” George happily greeted.
“Oh, hey George.” Lindsey wearily replied, rubbing the crust under his eyes away.
George stood at the door, his hands swung by his side intermittently.
“Do you wanna go get breakfast?”
Lindsey rubbed his brow and stared to the floor, trailing his gaze to his shirt and pants. He wasn’t wearing that tight white shirt or those dull black pants. A baggy grey shirt and shorts replaced them. A thankful smile crept along the side of his mouth.
“Yeah, sure.” Lindsey accepted.
He quickly noticed Georges attire, it looked nice. Too nice, it made Lindsey feel like a hobo. George dressed himself with a green flannel shirt, a pair of dark blue jeans stretched down to his shoes. It certainly wasn’t what he was wearing yesterday. Georges smile glowed, Lindsey blushed in the pure embarrassment of his state.
“Jesus, I look awful,” Lindsey remarked, feeling under his eyes for bags. He didn’t feel any, but they were there.
“You look nice.” George spoke at the same time, the two’s speeches overlapping.
Lindsey frowned.
“I had a bad sleep. Just give me five, I’ll get changed.”
George nodded. He opened his mouth as Lindsey closed the door on him. Realisation came to him like a gust of wind, his face flushed red.
“You look nice,” George mockingly repeated. “Idiot.”
Walking back inside, Lindsey yanked off his thin, oversized shirt. He dug through the suitcase he had thrown onto his bed last night. His hand fell onto the soft bed in front of him, a sense of guilt persisted his mind, feeling a little bad he didn’t offer George to sleep in it. That mattress couldn’t have been comfortable. He shrugged off the feeling and removed a pair of folded clothes from his bag, piling them onto the bed beside it. He slid the clothes on delicately; a sense of urgency coupled with his tendency to not crease his shirt almost gave him a sweat. Somehow, he preferred being in a dingy motel in the middle of nowhere rather than his fancy apartment in the city.
George sat outside, leaning against a pole. George looked up and down the stone pathway outside each room door. The door adjacent to Lindsey’s room swung open and out stepped the receptionist from the last night, followed by the Bottle of Syrup. They stared awkwardly at George as they bunched up at the door, both holding towels over their, otherwise unclothed, bodies. George noted the concerning lack of syrup that was actually in the bottle.
“Good morning?” George nervously addressed the couple.
The two women stood paralysed near each other, faces going blood red. Sam began to build up a sweat as she stood behind Charlotte.
Charlotte quickly stuttered, “AC. Broken. Too hot, I mean, too sweaty, uh.”
The two immediately retreated back into the room and slammed the door shut, the chain on the inside could be heard being fumbled into the slot and the door locked. Lindsey’s door opened right after as the green Scarf stood out into the morning light. A stray gasp from George alerted Lindsey. George hastily stiffened up, passing off his reaction with a faked cough. Lindsey stood at the door, his blue buttoned up shirt glistening in the sunlight. He fixed his smooth black tie around his neck and strutted over to George. George swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Jeez, I feel way underdressed.” He chuckled shyly, running his fingers through the ridges on the top of his wrapper feebly.
“Oh, this? Yeah I’m not sure what I was thinking packing workwear for a vacation,” Lindsey laughed back, George snickered in response.
“We better get there while the weathers nice,” George added, looking up to the clouds.

This diner was much larger than the last one Lindsey had gone to and less forest had begin to suffocate the roads as they travelled. Lindsey could even see further into the bushes now, the trees parting just enough to reveal more than just wood and leaves. George left the van idle in the carpark, allowing the heater to run and dry the clothes inside.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Lindsey asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m sure it is…” George timidly answered, the way he spoke almost sounded like he was asking the van itself if it was okay.

They walked into the diner, the checker pattern tiled floors spread across the entire building. At the front was a marble countertop, a coffee machine, pile of menus and a tray with cutlery sat at the very corner. The counter curved around and created a small space away from the needy customers. Against the windows were multiple booths, the two found their seats at the far end of the diner. Lindsey stared out the large window next to them, staring out to the forest ahead.

“How long does this forest go on for?” Lindsey questioned.
“Not much longer I think,” George answered.

A waitress soon arrived at their table and handed them menus. She was a blue Phone-booth, who wore a smile like they were a tattered pair of jeans. They exchanged pleasantries before deciding what they wanted to eat.

“Just toast, please,” Lindsey requested, George scoffed and butted in.
“You can make toast yourself, come on, get something nice.”
Lindsey sighed, “Alright, the burger please.” He requested with a smirk.

The two glanced at each other, sharing a cheeky grin. George shrugged jokingly as the waitress walked off behind the counter. She approached a Broomstick, who was casually leaning against a metal bench inside the kitchen area in the back.

“Hate people like that,” she grumbled.
The Broomstick peeked around her to eye up George and Lindsey.
“Elaborate?” He spoke in a moderate Australian accent; she looked up at him.
“You can never tell if they’re lovers or if they despise each other.” She stated, turning to face them along with the Broomstick.

They watched as George fiddled with his knuckles and Lindsey as he stared out the window. The Broomstick opened his mouth to take a guess but soon lost himself in the thought. He hummed to himself and analysed the two closely.

“Got anything?” The Broomstick inquired with the Phone-booth.

She groaned, walking past the Broomstick and into the kitchen, furrowing her brow and frowning. The Broomstick didn’t move, still trying to figure out between the two choices.

George played with the corners of the menu, folding the laminate forward and backwards gently as to not crease them. The food soon arrived from the kitchen, Phone-booth slid the plates in front of the two with an even bigger forced smile.

“Enjoy,” she spoke.
“Thank you.” Lindsey replied.

They began their meal; George ate slightly faster than Lindsey, who preferred to savour it. George finished his waffles quickly, looking up to Lindsey as he had barely gotten halfway though his burger. He took at napkin and wiped his mouth, placing his fork and knife neatly in the center of the plate. George lowered his gaze, feeling shame towards his rushing.

“Ah, sorry.” He spoke.
Lindsey finished his mouthful before meeting George’s gaze.
“Hm? Oh, I’m a slow eater anyways it’s fine,” Lindsey calmed.

George nodded, fetching two packets of sugar from the ceramic container at the end of the table. He glanced at Lindsey; he didn’t notice George’s action. He quickly shoved the packets into his pocket and straightened himself up, brushing off imaginary dust from the sleeves of his shirt. Lindsey took a fry from the side of the plate and offered it to George.

“Want one?” He asked, surprising George.
“Oh, thanks,” George accepted, taking the fry and eating it.
“Not bad.” He remarked. Lindsey smiled.

After Lindsey finished his meal, the waitress returned. Lindsey reached for his wallet, but George immediately stopped him. He tilted his head in disapproval.

“You paid last time; I pay this time.” George demanded, Lindsey sighed.
“Alright, fine.” Lindsey surrendered, removing his hand from his pocket.

The waitress looked away, rolling her eyes furiously. She turned back, smiling as she took the money from George’s hand.

“Have a great day!” She chimed, waving them off. Her smile instantly dropped as they left, muttering, “God.” Under her breath.

The two walked back to the van, slipping past the rows of other cars that piled up near them. As they climbed into the front seats a strong heat hit them. Relieved from the cold outside, George breathed. He wrapped his hands around the wheel and waiting for Lindsey to buckle himself in before he left. As they reversed out of the carpark and onto the road, an aching sensation rung out inside George. Something reminiscent to a heartache, but it lacked the physical pain. They both knew this pleasant journey of theirs would have to end soon. the fact hurt one more than the other. George didn’t speak, his mind too occupied on worry and distress. Lindsey stared out the side window, watching as the trees passed by. He noticed as the trees began to pass faster, and faster.

Soon the long brown stalks of the trees began to mix into a blur brown and green. He looked to George in concern.
“We’re going a bit fast, George.” Lindsey noted, “You good?”
George didn’t seem to hear.
“George!” Lindsey yelled, George jolted in his seat, quickly slowing the car.
“Sorry, sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” He muttered, breath shaky from the yell.
Just as the van slowed a loud sputtering came from the hood. The engine slowly coughed and cried as it died out. The van came to a crawl; George pulled it onto the side of the road in panic.
“Shit!” George blurted, repeating himself about twenty times as he jumped out of the car and ran to the front.
He ripped the hood open; the engine stalled one last time before dying. He slammed the hood shut and cupped his hands with his hands, falling onto the hood. He swiftly regained his composure, hitting the hood with his fist one last time before getting back into the driver's seat.

“Damnit.” He cursed, voice trembling heavily.

George shoved his face into his hands again, leaning his elbows on the steering wheel. He stifled a sob, Lindsey leaned closer to him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice light.
“No. I mean, yeah, I’m fine.” He choked, his voice quivering even more.

“It’s alright George it’s just the engine acting up,” Lindsey patted his back awkwardly, trying to give the man some solace. George felt the heater of the van die; they would have to enjoy the remaining warmth while it lasted.

“We should try to keep as much heat in as we can,” Lindsey said, squeezing into the back of the van and opening his suitcase.

He noted the portable stove beside the inflatable bed.

“Okay, you sleep in the mattress, and I can take the front seats.” Lindsey proclaimed, taking out a magenta-coloured hot water bottle.

George tried to rebut, but Lindsey spoke over him before he could speak.
“Have you got a kettle in here?” Lindsey asked, turning to George.
“Yes, but I can’t let you,” George answered, still trying to refuse Lindsey’s previous order.
“George, it’s your van, you sleep in the mattress, and I’ll take the front seats.”
“And it’s my van, so I decide where you sleep.” George cut in. Lindsey went quiet. He didn’t know why he was fighting so hard to give himself a bad sleep, besides, the squabbling made them look like an old married couple anyways.

After settling the sleeping debate, the two remained outside for the rest of the afternoon in an attempt to flag down any car that might have jumper cables. It became colder and colder as time went by. The two made small chat throughout the evening, trying to distract themselves from the cold.

“I must be cursed.” Lindsey joked, George let out a small exhale.
“I’d rather a bad omen in my car than a serial killer.” George chuckled.
“I guess so.” Lindsey playfully replied.
“It’s getting a bit cold, I think we should cut our loses for tonight.” George added, walking around to the front seats.

Lindsey groaned silently, unsatisfied with their sleeping arrangements. He walked around to the back, only opened one door very gently as to get in without letting out too much heat. He kneeled on the mockup bed, sliding the blanket aside to get in. As he moved it, he noticed another pillow hiding beneath. The cushion had a slight crease which curved through the middle, as if something had pushing on it consistently. He paid little mind to it, shuffling over to George and handing it over to him.

“Forgot one.” Lindsey smiled and handed him the pillow.
A thin red bedsheet was draped over Georges body, a small red tint appeared on his face when he saw the pillow.
“Oh, thanks.” George responded, reaching out from over the sheet and grabbing it.
“Goodnight Lindsey.” George whispered.
“Goodnight George.” Lindsey whispered back.

Lindsey shuffled back onto the bed, getting comfortable as it bounced and recoiled under his weight. He shoved his hand under his pillow, providing him some extra comfort. He hugged the bottle filled with boiling water close and began to drift off. He steadied his breathing, tracing each inhale and exhale. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep; he was an easy sleeper. Unfortunately for George, sleep didn’t come as easy. He tossed and turned, hour after hour. His back ached from the ridges and bumps from the edges of the chairs. He squirmed around throughout the night until he finally gave up.

He opened his eyes barely; fatigue rattled him as he snuck out of his cramped sleeping space and into the back of the van. The mattress almost seemed to radiate an allure that George couldn’t help but fall for. He was so exhausted he had completely forgotten why he wasn’t sleeping there in the first place. The small lump that occupied the right side of the bed didn’t disturb George at all. He had gotten used to it being there, but this lump was a bit bigger than the usual one. Too tired to even think, he crawled under the blanket, wrapping his hands around it like he had done many times before. It was ingrained into him.

The lingering heat from Lindsey’s bottle passed onto him, he felt his muscles relax. A sigh of relief escaped his cold and tired body. Soon he found sleep came quite fast now. He dozed off peacefully, his breaths in sync with the figure beside him. Finally. The simple serenity he had been longing for was achieved.

 

Lindsey’s eyes fluttered, his hand pressed against the plastic mattress. He rubbed his palm against the bed, then to the pillow. He twisted around to face the other side of the bed, noticing that the other half of the blanket was tucked under the mattress. Birds chirped outside and the light painted the insides of the van bloody, the windshield being loosely covered by a thin red sheet. The pillow next to his head had a slight dent in the middle. He sat up, seeing George crouched by the portable stove and hovering a kettle above it with one hand while holding a cup in the other.

“Good morning Lis,” George greeted, smiling as he held a teacup to his lips.
“Did we sleep together?” Lindsey groaned, his brain still dusting off its metaphorical cogs.
George choked on his tea, he put his cup onto the van floor and coughed.
Lindsey heaved his legs off the bed and onto the floor, George put his hand up for a moment. He cleared his throat before speaking.
“Not in that way!” George exclaimed.
Lindsey drowsily laughed, noticing the abruptness of his question. He rubbed his eyes and turned to the windshield.
“You can take that thing down now,” Lindsey commented.
George blushed as he groaned. A few pegs held up the sheet, George took them off and bundled the sheet up, throwing it to the side.
“I’m sorry Lindsey I swear I didn’t know what I was doing,” he hurriedly blabbered.
“I don’t really care if we slept together or not,” Lindsey laughed.
“Stop saying it like that!” George barked, his voice cracking slightly.
Lindsey coughed and stopped laughing, silence filled the van. George turned back to him in worry.

“You good?” George asked
“Huh? Oh yeah, my throats just a little dry.” Lindsey replied.
“Well, you’re in luck.” George smirked.

He took out another cup and poured the boiling water from the kettle in.

“Do you like tea?” George surveyed.
“Yeah.” Lindsey answered.

He put the kettle back onto the stove and turned the dial anti-clockwise, turning it off. A small white container rested beside the stove, George fished his hand inside and pull out a teabag, dropping it into the cup. When the water went brown, he took the bag back out and handed the cup to Lindsey.

“Thanks George.” Lindsey voiced.
“You’re welcome,” George responded.

The day was short, but long. The two had mingled outside for the entire morning, passing into the noon. George shuddered, Lindsey looked to him in dismay. Just as he was about to propose they gave up for the day, a small work truck pulled up beside them, its engine sounding like it was crying for help. The two silently prayed it wasn’t looking for help like they were. The trucks window snuck down, revealing the person behind. An old bottle of Rum sat at the wheel, a toothpick sat in his mouth and he spit when he talked.

“You fellers got some car trouble?” He snorted.
“Batteries dead.” George informed him.
“That’s a real shame, but you’re in luck today.” He spoke, stepping out of the truck.

The door to the mans truck screeched and wailed as he slammed it shut, the thing hadn’t been oiled in a while. The man climbed into the back of the truck, digging through a rusty toolbox. The vehicle reeked of cigarettes and death, some would argue that they’re the same thing.

“Here we go,” he snarked, taking out a pair of jumper cables.

After much effort and hassle, the three managed to connect the wires. The old man crept back into his truck and cranked the ignition; the vans battery soon kicked to life. The two sighed, thanking the old driver before he took back his cables and left. The heater in the van started up again, George scrambled to get back inside and turn it off.

“I’m not risking it.” He chuckled.

Once Lindsey got back into the car he began to drive. At first, he was cheerful that they had managed to get the car started again, but then another realisation came. They drove for an hour in pure silence; Lindsey finally spoke up.

“Something wrong? You’ve been awfully quiet.”
George frowned.
“When do I leave you?” He mumbled, sounding more like a statement than a question.

Lindsey didn’t respond, taking a moment to think of an answer.

“What do you mean?” He spoke.
“Well, you can’t stay with me.” He muttered.
“Why not?” Lindsey queried.

George stared at him in disbelief.

“I didn’t think you’d want to.” George claimed.
“I like you George. You know a lot more than I do about this tourism stuff, I’d get further with you than by myself.”

George’s mind solely focused on the first part of the sentence but chose to only acknowledge the second. Trying to hide his relief, he went along with it.

“Oh, okay yeah. No yeah that makes sense.” George stated, failing to hide his growing smile.

Hours went by, they talked consistently throughout the travel. Lindsey noticed the setting sun, but George noticed something else. Dark clouds began to loom overhead, obstructing the orange skies above. It wasn’t too worrying, after all, a little rain wouldn’t hurt them. George squinted at the road ahead, the slick black road shined and glistened, probably from the supposed rain. George liked the rain; it helped him sleep and it sounded nice. But he soon realised that the difference between the sound of rain and the sound of hail were two very different things. Small icy pellets started to hit the van all over.

“Hail.” George reported.
“Huh?” Lindsey hummed.
“It’s hailing.” He repeated.
“Oh, that’s a bad thing, isn’t it?” Lindsey asked.
“Doesn’t sound too bad…” George answered, unsure.

George noticed a large ditch to the side of the road; it was covered in leaves and branches from the trees above. George pointed to it before parking underneath.

“I think we’d better stop for now, it’s getting late anyways.” George suggested.
“You’re the boss,” Lindsey agreed, unbuckling his seatbelt and climbed to the back, taking off his boots and sliding into the bed.

He laid down onto the mattress, clearing a space on the other half of the bed. Ice bounced off the soft metal roof, making a noise similar to heavy rain. Lindsey waited for a couple minutes as he laid, soon getting annoyed.

“George, what are you doing?” He grumbled.
“Um, going to sleep?” He answered, confused at the question.
“Not up there you’re not.” Lindsey ordered, George sat up. “Sleep here.”
“Huh? No, Lis, it’s fine.” George declined, but Lindsey didn’t care.
“You were rubbing your back all day and you looked like a ghoul, sleep here.”

George couldn’t deny, he barely got any sleep the night before, and his back really did ache from resting on the chairs all night. He shyly got up off the chairs, taking his pillows and sheet with him. He looked like a child anxiously walking to his parents’ bedroom after having a nightmare. He bent down and fell onto the mattress, throwing his blanket over the two for extra warmth. He cautiously positioned himself in the bed, trying not to bump into Lindsey. Laying on his back, he put his hands onto his stomach and closed his eyes. He found it difficult to do so, possibly because of the fact his heart was beating like a tribal drum.

The bed was warm, way warmer than last nights. George’s face flushed red, Lindsey rolled to his side and shut his eyes. George repeated Lindsey, rolling to his side, facing away from the Scarf. Like usual, it didn’t take long for Lindsey to fall asleep. George still had small trouble, but with the comfort from the bed he soon did.

Light wasn’t out. Alarm wasn’t going off. So why did he wake? Lindsey thought to himself, listening to the harsh hail fire down onto the van. He grunted as he twisted around in the bed, trying to get comfortable again. Another groan accompanied his, he turned his head to see what it was.

“George?” He silently murmured.

Before he could fully turn around, he felt an arm glide over his side and fix itself around his stomach. Lindsey stopped, despite his heat pack being long dead, he felt a surge of heat around his body. Pulling away seemed like the natural reaction at the moment, but it brought a confusing comfort to him. He left it and fell back into his pillow, but he didn’t sleep. Instead, he just laid there, arm still clinging to his stomach. He couldn’t tell whether he was asleep or awake or trapped in a limbo between both, either way, he didn’t pay as much attention to the sudden action.
The constant hail provided a nice distraction from the seemingly intimate moment, he figured it best to ignore it and fall back asleep. He pulled the blanket up over his shoulder, brushing it past George’s arm. He shut his eyes, he had found that the presence of another to be rather tranquil. Having another this close brought a whole new feeling, one he couldn’t quite bother to think about, too busy in his slumber.

 

A compact calendar was pinned behind one of the front seats in the van. George took a red marker and put an X through ‘Friday.’ A smile crawled on his face, a new day. He placed the marker onto the floor and watched through the windshield as he saw a hint of daylight approach over the horizon. Shuffling back to the mattress, he gently lifted the red sheet from Lindsey’s resting body, leaving the grey fuzzy blanket underneath intact. Watching as he bundled the red sheet up into his arm, he admired Lindsey as he slept, it did take a rather heavy sleeper to ignore the hail outside, which had carried over since last night.

George stumbled into the front seats, clumsily pinning up the curtain as it fell down numerous times. The van was cold; George leant towards the AC and turned on the heater.

“Better.” George whispered to himself.
“Now let’s give this baby a quick look…” He muttered in a hush voice as he snuck out of the side door outside.

The hail had gotten better, calming down throughout the night. George ran his hand along the side of the van walls, feeling for dents. A few scratches were evident, but nothing too noticeable. He sighed, walking back towards the car doors. As he walked, his foot landed onto a small piece of ice, sending him slipping along the van. He tried to hold onto the vehicles walls as he fell, bumping against the thin metal repeatedly before he tumbled to the hard asphalt road.
He winced in pain, curling his legs up to his waist and groaning. He propped himself up against the van as he recovered, rubbing his sore arm as he climbed back inside. He whined silently as he leaned back in his driver's seat. Quickly realised the noise he made, he looks over to Lindsey. Fast asleep. He snuck back over to the mattress, sneakily inserting himself beside Lindsey. George made sure to watch his hand placement carefully, copying Lindsey and sliding it under his pillow.

‘A little extra rest wouldn’t hurt’ George thought to himself.

He lowered his eyes, relaxing his face. The mattress felt much more comfortable when you were too tired to notice how uncomfortable it really was. George sunk into the bed, hearing the strong winds outside brought a sense of safety to him, knowing how harsh the outside whether was made him thankful he hadn’t stayed. However, the same wasn’t for Lindsey, as he woke up shortly after.

Lindsey lifted himself up off the mattress and scooted his feet onto the floor. He raised to a kneel, looking behind him to find George sleeping peacefully. Lindsey took the blanket covering his side of the bed and gently tucked it around George. He looked outside; he could see the hail tapping against the window. It was warm inside, warmer than he’d expected. He climbed to the front of the van, turning the heater off. He didn’t want to risk the engine dying again, not that he didn’t enjoy George’s company, he just preferred not waiting outside in the cold all day again. He reached to the keys, still stuck in the ignition, and removed them. Lindsey threw the keys onto the dashboard and sat down in his seat, stretching his legs and yawning.

Lindsey became curious, he opened the glove compartment in front of him. Inside was the typical car manual that was included in every car sale, a small book with a hard red cover, and Lindsey’s gloves. He took out the gloves and examined them, they were relatively the same as they were when he had given them to George. The woollen gloves had been a gotten a bit scruffier around the fingers, but that was it. Lindsey put the gloves back but took out the red book in return. He scanned over the cover, running his fingers around the ends of the pages and over the hard cover.

Sticking from the top of the book was a red ribbon. Lindsey fiddled with it; the end of the ribbon was akin to the forked tongue of a snake. No text was on the cover, leaving it nameless. He placed his finger on the bottom of the front cover, flipping it to one side to reveal the first page.

Written in cursive on the first page was, “Diary.”

There ended that venture. He closed the book and put it away, closing the glove compartment slowly as to not wake George. Though he had to admit, the urge to read was compelling.

George hummed as he writhed around on the mattress, Lindsey turned and watched him in interest. First, Lindsey bounced around with the idea that George was having a nightmare as his face scrunched up when he moved. He stood up, taking a pillow off the floor with him. Before any real consideration, he slipped the pillow into the empty space beside George. Like feeding tined tuna to the stray neighbourhood cat. Lindsey observed as George turned over and hugged the pillow, squeezing it with his arm. It felt like he was intruding on something, an interloper to a seemingly private matter.

Stirring awake, George found himself still tightly wrapped around the pillow. Everything seemed normal, until he heard the kettle boiling from beside him. He immediately let go of the pillow, pushing it aside and looking for the noise.

“Good morning, George.” Lindsey greeted, facing the portable stove crammed next to the bed.
“Hi Lis,” he replied shakily, embarrassed.
“I took a small browse through your tea stash.” Lindsey stated.
George remained silent, still blushing from the pillow test.
“Your favourite is… rooibos, right?” Lindsey asked, turning to face George, who was sprawled out on the bed.
“Uh, yeah, how’d you know?” He answered.
Lindsey cheekily lifted the tin, tilting the top downwards.
“Because it’s like the only flavour.” Lindsey jested.
“It’s a pretty good flavour.” George claimed.
“It’s not bad,” Lindsey supported, taking another sip from his cup.

George got up from the bed and crawled over to Lindsey, who shot him a smirk while he wasn’t looking.

“If you want, I have some more flavours in my bag,” George offered, pointing at two duffle bags next to the bed, one red, one black.

Lindsey hovered over to the bags, fiddling with the zips of each. Receiving no advice from George as to which bag he should open, he opened the black one. Inside he found a large glass object, circular base with a tall stock. Less formally referred to as, a bong.

“This it?” Lindsey held up the item.
“Shit, um.” George blurted as he turned to find Lindsey.

Lindsey placed the bong back into the bag and zipped it up.

“You’re in big trouble young man.” He mocked, the two snickered.
“Mom!” George moaned back, Lindsey chuckled, fetching the red bag and heaving it onto his lap.

He caressed along the zipper line, feeling for the metal tag and opening it. Inside were a couple of metal tins, a small disposable camera and a plastic pack of metal cutlery. Lindsey took out the tins, each were colour coded, opening each met him with a different scent.

“What are these?” Lindsey quizzed, holding up an orange tin.
“That’s… Hibiscus.” George told him.
“Okay, what about this one?” Lindsey held up a green tin.
“Peppermint and green tea.” George answered.
“There’s a few here actually, let’s see,” Lindsey muttered.
“This one.” He held up a brown tin.
“That’s cinnamon.” George shifted his full focus towards the little game Lindsey had started.
“You’ve got a lot of tea; don’t you get sick of it?” Lindsey asked, holding up a black tin.
“Nah, that one’s black tea.” George pointed.
“Whats this?” Lindsey held up a dark brown tin.
“Chocolate powder.” George smirked.
“Ah, I see.”

Lindsey took out the brown tin, handing it to George.

“I like the look of this one.” Lindsey informed.

George nodded, taking out a tea bag and setting it aside as he waiting for the water in the pot to finish boiling. Once it began to bubble, George poured the water into a mug and placed the tea bag in, waiting before handing it to Lindsey.

“Thanks,” Lindsey smiled.
“Tea testing, not a bad way to pass time.” George remarked, staring out the windows on the back doors of the van.

Lindsey sipped the drink; he painfully swallowed the hot water and placed the mug onto the ground.

“God, that burns!” He yelped, voice raspy as he coughed aggressively.

Georges guilty smile faded.

“Woah, are you good?” He frowned in concern.
“Yeah, yeah, it’s just really burn-y!” He coughed.
“Well, it is cinnamon.” George whispered, trying not to be heard.

Lindsey whined, George rolled his eyes and grinned.

“Tea tasting it is.” He muttered, watching as the whether outside got worse.

Chapter Text

Chapter 3
“Days 4-7”

“Just try it!” George pushed, waving the cup at his face.
“I don’t like it okay?” Lindsey resisted.
“You’ve never even had it! Come on.” George pleaded, Lindsey groaned in response.
“Fine.” He snapped, taking the cup and drinking the light brown mixture inside.

It was sweet, it wasn’t bad either. Lindsey took the edge of mug off his lips, holding it with both hands.

“Well?” George bugged.
“It’s good.” Lindsey shamefully admitted.
“See? I told you it’s good,” George continued.

Lindsey took another sip, then another. Eventually he drank the entire cup. George watched in hidden joy as he placed the mug on the ground and wiped his mouth.

“Yeah, that’s really good.” He chuckled, toying with the orange box that the teabag had come from.
“Well at least we found one you like.” George noted, looking to the group of abandoned metal tins crowding around bags.
“There’s still the chocolate powder.” Lindsey joked, though his speech teetered on the line between begging.
“Oh, excuse me for a minute,” George said, moving to the front of the van.

Lindsey watched as he fished out the journal from the glove compartment. He figured it best to not be nosy, and focused on his suitcase instead. He decided to unpack a little, unzipping the front pocket and taking out a book of his. ‘1984’ by George Orwell. He set it aside, and continued searching. His glasses, secured tightly inside their case. A ballpoint pen, something in cursive was inscribed on the side in a cheap gold colour. Overall, pretty much nothing.

He glanced to George, who was staring into the rearview mirror whilst scribbling something in his book. Lindsey found his behaviour interesting, not off-putting like he was being stalked, more like admired from a distance. His features were emboldened by the mirror's reflection, he almost felt flattered being noted with such implied detail. George soon caught on to Lindsey, he swiftly slammed his book shut and threw it back into the compartment.

George’s pencil slipped from his hands, wedging itself between the chair and the door. He stuck his hand down the side of the seat, his wrist getting caught on the plastic frame of the chair. To not draw attention to himself, George soon gave up on trying to receive the pencil. The journals mystique only helped grow Lindsey’s curiosity, but poking around felt rude.

“Do you like reading, George?” Lindsey asked, laying down onto the mattress.
“Depends, but usually yeah.” He answered, peering between the seats.
“Catch.” Lindsey alerted, throwing his book at George.

He reacted hastily, catching the book with two hands. He examined the cover.

“Keep it, I’ve already read it.” He spoke.
“Thanks Lis,” George responded, detailing each part of the book.

As much as he tried to ignore the feeling, it only grew stronger with each passing minute. Boredom. Sitting in the back of the van felt like a chore for Lindsey. Driving now would be dangerous, stupid even. Surely Lindsey knew this, any educated man like himself would. He sat up, clambering into the front seats with George as he read his new book.

“Let’s go,” Lindsey bluntly commanded.
“Where?” George asked in response.
“Wherever we’ve been going so far.” Lindsey told him.
“The roads too slippery,” George protested.
“That or I get out and walk, either way, I’m not staying stuck in this ditch for the whole day.”

George went silent, looking down at the wheel with a waining self-confidence. He shook his head, grunting under his breath as he snatched his keys and started the car. The van shook and clawed out of the small ditch, swerving onto the road and driving straight ahead.

The forest was relatively gone within an hour. Only a few resting trees remained by the side of the road, but never enough to be considered anything close to a forest by any metric. The fuel dial on the dashboard ticked down minute by minute. George’s gaze persisted between the dial, the road, and Lindsey, who would often stare back and create and awkward tension. Driving comprised most of the day, it was a miracle cabin fever seemed to be absent. George held a map in his fingers, keeping it pinned to the steering wheel as he monitored it. According to the map, a small town resided just a bit further from them.

Friday night shifted to Saturday morning. They left the car parked just outside of the small town as the two slept peacefully. George woke up early, shamefully freeing his arm from Lindsey’s chest and sneaking out of the van. He enjoyed early mornings, watching as the sun floats up from behind the mountains in the far distance. He adjusted his coat and inhaled through gritted teeth. Before departing for the town up ahead, he snapped around to the front of the van, racing into the passenger seat and fumbling around the glove compartment. A black ball of wool sat at the very back, behind George’s journal. He dug around and retrieved the gloves, forcing them on and stepping back out into the cold dawn.

The grass below parted under each step, the morning dew stuck to George’s boots as he passed a large ‘Welcome!’ sign. He journeyed through the town, now treading along the sidewalk as he navigated towards a gas station. George stared at the rumpled and creased map in his hands, tracing his finger along the microscopic lines indicating streets. He admired the cottages that lined the towns streets, it would be a nice place to settle down, far better than any city apartment obviously. Many of the houses maintained well kept gardens, trimmed hedges and some even had large trees that loomed over the white picket fences. The bark of a dog from one of the houses broke George’s trance and he continued on.

A small block of land had been reserved for the gas station, a collect little wooden house planted itself above a concrete pasture, with large gas pumps sitting in unison in front of it. Inside he could see light from inside the windows. He entered, looking around before locking eyes with the cashier.

“Morning.” A grumpy Hacksaw sat at the counter.
“Good morning,” George greeted.

George strolled up to the desk, eyeing up the silver bell sitting next to the register.

“Don’t.” The Saw ordered under his breath.
“I need a jerry can with fuel.” George cut to the chase.
“Course you do.” Saw mumbled, his whines barely comprehensible as he walked into the backroom.

George waited, listening as Saw rummaged around in the back. He came back with the large red container, dumping it on the counter. George handed him the money and picked up the can, the gas inside sloshed around violently.

“Thanks.” George nodded, heaving the can out the door.

The trip back to the van was rather the task, it wasn’t helped by all the looks he received by the passing townsfolk who he would promptly wave at each time. He snuck off the concrete sidewalk and onto the grassy wayside, arms still wrapped around the canister. It got colder; he got faster. His shoulder ached from yesterday, he dropped the can onto the ground lightly and sat down, rolling his arm around in circles. He winced but forced himself back up. George grabbed the can and persevered, hiking back to the van.

He flicked the fuel cap open and lifted the gas can up to the hole, tilting in forward. George opened the jerry can, allowing the gas to flow in. The sun could be seen peeking up from the horizon, George sighed and tipped the gas back upright, screwing on the lid.
Lindsey flickered awake, hearing noises outside. As he felt around the bed he noticed George’s absence; he relaxed. Lindsey fell back, slowly returning to sleep. George cracked the door open gently, letting a small fragment of orange light into the van. He watched Lindsey rest, it felt creepy. He shut the door again and looked around. Where to go? Leaning on the van, he looked to his left, the town in the distance began to wake. Windows from houses beamed with light, silhouettes would walk past on occasion. George shrugged to himself and started onward.

It was warm inside, and there were more people than he expected. The floor was made from a dark wood, everything looked very natural. Even the front counter was made from the stumps of wood, with a smooth varnish lining the top plank that held the coffee machines. George walked in and found a nice table in the corner. He pulled aside a chair and sat down, cusping his hands together and patiently waiting to be served. A woman approached him; a notepad was tucked in the rope tightened around her white apron.

“What can I get for you today?” The Bath-cap asked.
“Coffee, long black, please,” George smiled.

She nodded, walking away behind the counter.

George tapped his feet together, watching the door open and close as customers entered and exited. A Magnifying Glass rushed through the front door; George stared at him in interest. The two locked eyes. The Glass glared at him in disbelief, gradually approaching his table. He sat down, the two kept watching each other.

“Can I help you?” George spoke.
“George?”
“Yeah, how’d you know my name?” He asked, a growing tension building inside him.
“Oh my god, it’s me! Joel!” He exclaimed.
“Uh, sorry who?” George answered in confusion.
“From high school! Remember? Mr. Davies class, we sat together in science.”
“Oh my god, Joel?”

George barely recognised him; the scrawny boy would sit next to him in science, constantly sniffling and coughing like he had the flu every day of the week. He’d seemingly gotten better since.

“Yeah man, how have you been?” Joel asked, leaning in.
“Oh yeah, I’ve been good man, how about you?” George responded.
“Great dude. What are you doing here?”
“Just passing through, needed some gas. You live here?”
“Yup, moved here a couple years ago, couldn’t be happier.”

The Bath-cap returned, placing the hot coffee onto the table.

“Enjoy.” She smiled, turning to face Joel.
“Hey Cindy.” Joel greeted.
“Hi Joel.” She greeted back. “Can I get you something?”
“Nah I’m good thanks.” He replied.

Cindy paced away, Joel returned to face George. He stirred his drink with a small spoon, looking back up to Joel.

“So, what have you been up to since high school?” Joel started.
“Oh I’ve just been travelling, state to state kind of thing.” He answered, lifting the cup to his mouth and drinking.
“Sick man.”

They sat in silence for a brief moment as George drank his coffee, before lightly placing it back onto the small white plate below.

“What about you?” George said.
“Once I get out of high school I worked freelance for a bit, decided this place looked nice, I moved in.” Joel told.
“Huh.” George murmured.

He checked the clock sitting above the front door and finished his drink.

“I better get going, it was nice seeing you again Joel,” George shook his hand and stood up.
“Hey man, can I get your number?” Joel requested.

George sat back down and took a napkin, removing a pen from his pocket and scribbling a slurry of numbers down. He slid the note to Joel and smiled.

“Thanks dude, I’ll call you.” Joel claimed.
“See ya,” George waved and walked away from the table.
“Have a good one man,” Joel called out.

Dawn had broken now, the sun revealed itself boldly above the skies. George trekked back to the van and opened the back door. Lindsey crouched by the back of the driver’s seat, holding a marker to the calendar on the back. He drew a cross over ‘Saturday’ before putting the marker back into the cupholder in the front.

“Morning,” George spoke.
“Hey George.” Lindsey returned, still facing the calendar.
“We’ve got gas now; we can keep going.” George announced, stepping into the van.
“What’s in the town?” Lindsey asked.
“Eh, nothing much.” George remarked.
“Do you mind if we stopped by? I want to see for myself.”

George climbed into the front seat, ushering Lindsey in next to him. He started the car and drove, parking at a sidewalk. Lindsey looked out the side window, a store caught his eye. A thrift store, he hadn’t been to one since he was 7 years old. He scurried into the back, digging around in his suitcase for clothes. George got out and paid for the parking fee while Lindsey created a pile of clothes. Suit jackets, button up shirts and ties. All business casual wear. A small bowtie found itself in his palm, he observed it. Orange. He didn’t remember packing it, in fact he had always hated it. But maybe that was a good thing. He put the bowtie back into the case and took his small collection of clothes.

George watched as Lindsey stumbled out of the van with the amalgamation of bland fabrics in his hand.

“What are you doing?” George asked.
“Thrift store! I haven’t been to one since I was a kid!” Lindsey giggled, jogging across the street to the store in question.
“Hey, wait up!” George stammered, hurrying over to meet him.
Lindsey pried the large glass door open, the smell of cheap washing powder and perfume hit him like a truck. He strutted up to the front desk, the attendant standing by changed from a welcoming look to a satisfied one.

“Well, well, what have we here?” The Stool snickered.

Lindsey reached his head around the pile to face the man at the desk.

“Stuff!” He smiled, dropping the pile onto the desk.
“Wow, that is definitely a lot of stuff.” He noted.

The Stool lifted the mess of clothes and carried them to the back of the store, disappearing from sight. Lindsey took the spare time to look around. He browsed through rows of vacation wear to sleepwear, hats to shoes. There were some of the most vibrant clothes he had ever seen, pink overcoats and bright blue pants. He sunk his hand through the hanged clothes, skimming through the collections. The pure variety of wear was a shock to Lindsey. George entered from the door behind him, unaffected by the smell.

“Find anything you like?” George joked, walking up beside him.
“It’s honestly hard to choose,” Lindsey responded.

George began to pick some out, examining them before folding them over his arm. Lindsey watched in awe; he could barely choose one and George already had 2 pairs of pants and one shirt. George looked back at him.

“Just pick one you like and take it. If you’re really unsure you can try it on.” George informed, pointing to the changing rooms in the back.

Lindsey pondered the thought for a second, before grabbing a creased yellow shirt. He looked to George, comparing the colours.

“Matches your wrapper.” He chuckled.

He slipped it back onto the rack and searched further, finding a worn blue sweater. George shrugged.

“Try it on.” He proposed.

Lindsey took it and walked into the changing rooms. A mirror sat against the pale white wall. He hung his coat around the hook attached to the door and took shoved his head through the sweater, it wrapped neatly around his body.

“Hey Lindsey?” George called from behind the door.
“Yeah?”

A scruffy green scarf fell above the door, dangling down in front of Lindsey.

“Reminds me of someone!” He chuckled.

Lindsey took the scarf and threaded it around his fingers.

“Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,” Lindsey began, “Do I feel this good?”
“Better.” George divulged, immediately realising his choice of words.

George blushed profusely, feeling his heart sink. Lindsey laughed at the response as he threw the scarf on around his neck. He pushed past the door of the changing room, showing himself off to George.

“You okay? You look a little red.” Lindsey commented.
“Yeah, yeah it’s just a little stuffy in here.” George disregarded, trying to hide his flustered expression.
“I think I’m gonna get these, give me a second.”

Lindsey walked off to the counter while George placed clothes he was holding onto a nearby chair and walked outside. A ringing came from the bell that was bolted above the door, it swung as George shoved past. Lindsey removed his wallet, taking out a bill and giving it to the Stool. He thanked the Stool and took his new sweater and scarf, stacking them over his arm.

George rested on the rickety bench outside; it creaked under his weight. How rude. The edges of the bench crusted, its mossy green paint chipping off and warping at every corner. He brought his hands to his legs, facing them palm up and looking at the gloves. He liked them, they made him feel warm. He liked being warm, most people do. But the gloves brought him a warmth he hadn’t ever felt, and one he couldn’t replicate. Lindsey sat down beside him and reached an arm around his neck. George shook madly, he felt Lindsey’s arm pull something over his shoulders and around the front of his throat.

“Looks better on you,” Lindsey acclaimed.

George’s heart pumped, he felt his face flush, though his external expression was much more subtle. Lindsey readjusted his sweater, dusting off minute scrapes of dust. George leant in towards Lindseys face, he could almost see his breath bouncing off the side of his cheek. Before anything could happen, Lindsey jumped up from the bench.

“I think it looks good, compliments my uh… me. It compliments me.” He announced.

George recoiled back to his original stance, nodding while tugging at the ends of his new scarf.

“Yeah, the scarf looks way better on you,” Lindsey smiled.
“Thanks,” George laughed uncomfortably.

Lindsey scanned the streets, looking for anything notable. His gaze fell upon an antique store, he wandered across the street and stared in through the stained glass window out the front. George struggled to keep up with his surprising enthusiasm with the matter. Lindsey joined the antiques within the store, leaving George to follow behind.

Bubbles of dust were coated over porcelain dolls on high up shelves, fake golden kitchen wear sat on old wooden bedside tables, worn posters were pinned onto peeling wallpapered walls. A musty old stench clogged every orifice unlucky enough to be anywhere near the face. And Lindsey most certainly liked it. He picked up fragile glasses and cups, observing all their sides and faces closely. Some reflected, some merely shined. George walked up to the counter, looking down through the glass surface and down to the cushioned shelves inside. Rings, bracelets, earrings. Jewellery of all shapes and sizes, shines and glows. A rustic cash register sat atop a separate, wooden, desk adjacent to the glass desk. The thing was ancient, George stretched over the desk to get a better look.

Lindsey dusted off a few books tucked away in a creaky bookshelf, most of them had missing pages or entire middle parts missing, just leaving the outer cover. A fresh canvas leant against the bookshelf, a clean plastic wrap conserving its colour. Hiding under the canvas was a long but small tin container. Lindsey crouched down and carefully pushed the canvas aside, taking the tin and opening it. A collection of pencils sat lined in a row together. He picked one up, twirling it around in his fingers. They were tough, the lead at the top was pitch black. Placing the pencil back, he closed the tin and stood up.

He met with George at the front desk, who was busy being seemingly intimidated by the old woman running the stand, a paper hat. She was worn around the edges, her eyes ragged and tired. Lindsey leaned past George, placing the tin onto the counter.

“These please,” Lindsey said, the Hat still eyeing up George.

She glanced at the pencils for a second, before demanding, “$15.”

Lindsey handed her the money and took George’s arm, ushering him out with him.

“What was her deal?” Lindsey asked.
“I don’t know, I think she cursed me or something.” George answered, Lindsey letting go of his arm.
“That’s a shame. Anyways, here.” Lindsey handed George the pencils.

As much as George felt incline to turn down the offer, there wasn’t much negotiating to be done. He took the case, rubbing his thumb along the rough metal surface. He shook it lightly.

“What is it?” George queried.
“You gotta open it first,” Lindsey mocked.

George pushed the lid up with his finger, the pencils inside rattled around from his walking. He slowed to a halt, taking one of the pencils in his fingers. A giddy smile crawled over his face.

“These are beautiful, Lis.” George’s mind wandered off, but not for the pencils.
“Yeah, I found them hiding near the bookcase, figured you’d want them.” Lindsey said.
“Thanks,” George smiled, engrossed in thought.
“Wanna head back now or?” Lindsey asked.
“Yeah, sure.”

George stood aside, holding the van door open. Lindsey smiled and climbed in, George followed after. Lindsey sat by his suitcase while George took out the tin of pencils from his pocket, listening to the hard wooden utensils clattering against the thin metal. He snuck over to Lindsey, tapping him on the shoulder.
“Yeah?” Lindsey responded, looking over his shoulder.
“Can you take the wheel for a bit? I want to try these.” George requested.
“Yeah sure.” Lindsey climbed to the front seats and sat down behind the wheel, placing his hand out to George.
George dug through his pockets and threw his keys to Lindsey, using them to start the car. The engine shot to life and the heater began spewing out warm air. George squeezed into the passenger seat and pulled out his journal, flipping it open and taking a pencil from the tin. As they drove through the town George scribbled passionately in his book, detailing ever passing pole or building. He put the most detail into inscribing the image of cottages onto the page, sketching each flower and tree that passed.
An hour passed after they had left the town. George would sketch down anything he considered notable, which was pretty much anything that wasn’t grass. A few farmhouses, horses in open fields boxed in by fences. Soon not even the setting sun was safe from George’s artistic eye, no longer obscured by dark forest.
Lindsey pulled the car off the road, parking beside a fence. With one flick of the wrist Lindsey shut off the engine and removed the car keys. He threw them over the open journal in George’s lap, getting a quick glance at some of the sketches inside. George flipped down the overhead mirror, placing his keys inside before closing it back up. He placed his book back into the glove compartment and followed Lindsey as he climbed into the back.
“Thanks for driving Lis,” George mentioned.
“No problem.” Lindsey replied. “Haven’t ridden a van for a while anyways.”
“You’re not missing much,” George yawned.
The two inched into the bed, Lindsey stared at George’s neck as he fiddled with the strings hanging at the bottom.
“You really like that scarf.” Lindsey poked at the fabric.
“Huh? Oh, I forgot it was on…” George nervously chuckled, fumbling to unwrap the thing from his neck.
He took the bundle of green warmth and placed it above his pillow, resting his ear on it. Lindsey let out a small breath from his nose before flipping over and facing the wall.
“Goodnight George.”
“Night Lis.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 4
“Day 8”

“So is this just Half-Life 2 but more oppressive somehow?” George asked, tilting his head back against the seat and staring at the roof.
“I don’t know what that is.” Lindsey retorted.
“Never mind.” George leaned back towards his book, holding the cover with one hand.

Rain had befell the van in the morning, Lindsey’s persuasive side had wavered to George’s deep paranoia towards slippery roads. He rested on the mattress, repeating the process of throwing a tennis ball into the air and catching it. He threw the ball up once more, his trained arm placement being disturbed by a coughing fit. The ball fell and hit Lindsey on the nose, he kept coughing.

“You good Lis?” George checked on him.

Lindsey slammed his chest and rolled to his side, the coughing subsided. His ball rolled to the back of the van.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I swallowed something,” Lindsey reassured, speaking in a low, hushed tone.
“You want some water?” George asked.
“Yes please,” Lindsey accepted, the sound of his voice akin to running glass on sand.

George moved to the back and over to the corner, where he kept his bags. He pulled out a water bottle and handed it to Lindsey, who reached over and took it.

“Thanks George.” Lindsey pushed up a smile.

George returned a thankful grin and climbed to the front seats, resuming his book. His head fell against the window, eyes still fixated on the page. A noise from outside snuck inside, hissing. At first he shook it off, preferring to ignore it. But then it got louder, higher pitched. He glared out the window, but he couldn’t see what was making the noise. George grimaced, trying to ignore the irritating noise, he didn’t last long.

“That’s it.” George snapped, slamming the book shut on the dashboard and stepping out into the rain.

Lindsey called to George, but he had already left. The rain fell over George, the droplets bouncing or sliding off his plastic wrapper. He searched incessantly, but the source didn’t show. Then he spotted it. The front tire drooped to the ground, the closer he got the louder the hissing became. George groaned, looking up and searching around for any sign of possible help. In the distance he noticed a yellow light from a faraway farmhouse. Though heavily obscured by darkness, it was visible enough to identify. As the rain fell harder, George’s attention was grabbed by another noise from the car. Lindsey clambered over the drivers seat and opened the door.

“What are you doing?” George exclaimed.
“What are you doing?” Lindsey repeated.
“We’ve got a flat tire, I’m gonna go see if that farmhouse over there has a spare.” George explained.

Lindsey placed out foot outside the van, George soon discouraged this act.

“Stay there, I’ll go by myself, you’ll get sick out in this rain.” George warned.

Lindsey’s face soured, he frowned and looked away.

“Yeah.”

He climbed back into the car and shut the door, disappearing into the back. George sighed, looking back to the house in the distance. The rain fell harder.

After taking his umbrella from the van, George began to trek the way to the house. Rain droplets would bounce off, some would fling to George’s wrapper and glide down to the grass below. He stuck next to the large wooden fence that led to the house, using it as a guide. The sky had been painted black by dark clouds and occasional thunder would ring out. It was cold, wet and freezing, George began to miss the hail. Little by little, details of the house became clearer. First he saw a mailbox, then the red wood planks of the house. A driveway, a leaky gutter which was haemorrhaging water and a pickup truck underneath a metal canopy next to the house.

He held his arms together, keeping the umbrella above his head while he shivered. After reaching the front gate of the house, he fumbled for the metal bolt behind it, letting himself in. He stomped up the steps to the house and knocked on the door, stepping back to give way. Water dripped from the top of George’s wrapper, he tapped his foot anxiously. The door swung open inwards, a rustic old metal Can with its lid propped up grasped the door handle from inside.

“Good Evening,” George trembled.
“What do you want?” The Can demanded.
“My, uh, vans tire blew, I was wondering if you had a spare?” George pleaded.

The Can moved to shut the door, but a yell from behind made him stop.

“Rusty dear? Who’s at the door?” A woman’s voice called.
“No one.” He grumbled, making an attempt to slam the door again.

From the other hall entered a brown Pot, she hobbled over to the door. Rusty groaned.

“Hello young man!” She greeted, Rusty moved aside.
“Hi.” George awkwardly smiled, still feeling threatened by the Can standing by the door.
“Oh it’s cold out there, would you like to come in?” She offered.
“Uh, sure, yes please.” George stuttered.

The Pot moved aside and waved him in, George timidly walked with the woman. She led him into the lounge and sat him down onto a leather couch as she hurried off to the kitchen. The room was furnished with pale green wallpaper, flower patterns lining the edges. Mahogany desks with polished fine china on top, old wooden cabinets with glass windows held even more. The carpet was dyed a dark, mossy green.

“Rusty dear! Could you fetch this boy a spare tire from the shed!” The Pot called out, the can walked past George and into the kitchen.

Inaudible mumbles of protest by Rusty soon went on deaf ears once his wife snapped.

“Whatever superstitions you have can wait for later Rusty! Now go get the boy what he needs!” She barked, still maintaining her friendly demeanour. “And you’ll drive him back to his van too!”

A call from the kitchen alerted George’s attention once more.

“Do you like tea?” She croaked.
“Oh, yes.” George politely answered.
“Goodie!” She responded, turning on the stove.

Rusty grumbled and stormed out of the kitchen, walking to the backdoor in the other hallway. The Pot left the kitchen gently holding a teacup in her hands. She laid it down onto a white plate on the table in front of George. George smiled and thanked her, taking the cup and drinking. She returned a smile from her wrinkled face and returned to the kitchen. George waited until Rusty walked back into the lounge.

“Come.” Rusty ordered, George stood up and followed him outside.

The two got into the white pickup truck, the thing smelled of cigarettes. Rusty started the car, the engine sputtered and coughed to life. The hood of the car visibly shook as they pull out of the driveway and onto the road. Its yellow headlights shot to life, flickering momentarily while they lit up the road. George stayed silent, not wanting to irritate the man further.

They pulled up next to the van, still parked on the grass. Rusty yanked the door open and got out, slamming it behind him. George snatched his wet umbrella and got out after him. Rusty wheeled the spare tire around the truck and over to George, who in-turn pointed at the flat one. As Rusty began to work on the tire a loud thud came from inside, Rusty glared at him.

“Uh, it’s nothing.” George lied.

Another thud startled Rusty, making him drop his tools to the ground. Rusty snarled at George, who returned a sheepish smile.

“Give me a second,” George asked, holding a finger to Rusty.

George turned and climbed into the van, shutting the door behind him. He climbed along the front seat, scanning the back for Lindsey. He found him slumped face forward against the back doors, not moving. His eyes widened.

“Lis!” He shouted, rushing to his aid.

As he lifted him up from the doors Lindsey’s mouth fell open.

“Hi George,” Lindsey giggled, stretching out each vowel as he spoke.
“Lis? What are you doing!” George looked at Lindsey, his face was red.
“What are you doing?” He mumbled, slurring his words.

After a quick analysis of Lindsey’s face, and the bong sitting upright near the bed, George came to the sudden conclusion.

“Are you high?” He yelled.
“Maybe…” Lindsey snickered, his eyelids drooping.
“Just wait here!”

George dragged Lindsey to the mattress, laying him down. He scooted towards the front, but Lindsey got back up. Before George could sit him back down, he fell onto his stomach and trapped him.

“Lis!” He grunted, his face going red.
“George…” Lindsey mumbled, his face falling onto his chest.
“Lis get off!” George struggled, trying to lift Lindsey off himself.

Rusty opened the front door, peering in and seeing the two crawl over each other. His brow lowered, George turned to look behind him. Rusty slammed the door shut and collected his tools, spitting on the road as he packed up and left. George wiggled his way out from Lindsey’s grasp and lifted him back onto the bed while he giggled uncontrollably.

“George…” Lindsey mumbled again.
“Lis.” George repeated in a groan.

He placed Lindsey onto the bed and draped the blanket over him. George hunched over the front seats, reaching out to the door.

“Don’t go,” Lindsey muttered, dragging out each word as he said it.
“Don’t worry, that’s the last time I leave you alone,” George stated, smiling at the absurdity of the situation.

Lindsey laughed to himself, rolling around in the bed. George stuck his head outside, staring at the new tire. He sighed, glad that the man actually fixed his tire. Droplets of rain raced down the window, building up along the frame. George shut the door, sending pellets of water into the air. The cold drained all of the heat from the van, sucking the life out of it like a parasite. George locked the doors and took his journal back out. A pencil stuck in between the pages, helping him resume from where he last left off. He took the pencil out of the crevice in the middle of the book and began to scribble the night away.

Sketch by sketch he began to grow weary, his eyelids waving a white flag in defeat. He slid his pencil inside the book and closed it, satisfied with his work. Tossing his book back into the glove compartment, he stepped into the back of the van and sat by the mattress. Lindsey was fast asleep, snoring loudly. George found the bong at the end of the bed, placing it back into the duffel bag and zipping it up. Lindsey’s curiosity was endearing to George in a way.

He crawled into the bed and flipped over on his side to face the wall. Lindsey continued to snore, but the rain drowned it out. George fiddled with the tag on the end of the pillow until he felt something grab him. Lindsey wrapped himself around George’s back like a virus, draining his restlessness. George barely moved, even slowing his breathing as to not alert Lindsey. He sunk further into the bed and closed his eyes, the cold downpour outside helped bring George to sleep. George inched back into Lindsey, feeling his body press up against his own. Sleep suddenly came easy that night as George found himself comfortable in Lindsey’s unassuming hold.

A rustling sound woke him back up. It was still dark out, but the rain had calmed. George rubbed his eyes and sat up, turning on a handheld lantern by the bed. It switched on with a click, drenching the van with a pale-yellow light. He found Lindsey in the corner of the van, digging through his bags frantically. George squinted and leaned in.

“Lis?” George groaned.
“George I am so fucking hungry.” Lindsey moaned.
“Well, yeah that happens.” George retorted.
“George please.” Lindsey begged.
“Alright, alright I’ll fetch something.” George said, crawling out of bed and opening his own bag.

Lindsey sat against the doors and held his knees up to his chest, hearing his stomach rumble viciously. He impatiently tapped his knees together, waiting for George. George took out a collection of snacks and tossed them over to Lindsey, who instantly devoured them. He watched as Lindsey rampantly ate, dropping crumbs onto the floor. A wave of shame poured over Lindsey as he looked up to George, mouth stuffed full of mushy food.

“Sorry,” Lindsey coughed.

George snickered to himself and threw himself back into bed, Lindsey silently resumed his meal. Lindsey finished his mouthful, setting the empty bags aside and drowsily laid beside George in the bed. A stirring thought lingered in George’s head as Lindsey peacefully continued his sleep next to him, seeing Lindsey do something so random and out of character sparked a light inside George. He listened in to the rain, hearing it tap along the road outside.

Waking up early, George held his shaking hands up to the calendar and crossed off ‘Tuesday’. The sun wasn’t even up yet, but he still climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. It came to life with a jolt, the headlights skewered through the darkness outside and onto the road. Yellow light reflected off the shiny asphalt road, slicked with a fresh coat of rain. He felt his heart, raising his hand to his chest and feeling each palpitation, every beat. Taking another deep breath, he gripped the wheel and placed his foot upon the gas pedal. The shaking in his legs became rampant. As his foot pushed down further he could almost smell smoke. The feeling was too much, George ripped his hands away from the wheel and balled them into a fist, punching the rim of the wheel repeatedly before throwing his head into his hands and sobbing. He switched off the engine and left the keys in the ignition. His weeps were muffled by the pouring rain outside as it grew louder and louder.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5
“Days 9-10”

“George.” Lindsey bugged, poking his arm.

No reaction. Lindsey mumbled.

“George.” Lindsey poked him again. “Get off the seat George.”

George’s eyelids twitched and flickered, his eyes shot open.

“What, what?” He stirred awake.
“Get off the seat George.” Lindsey requested, his head stuck in between the two seats and facing George.
“Why?” He moaned.
“You can’t drive.” Lindsey informed.
“Why not?” George asked, his head falling against the headrest of the seat.

Lindsey reached up to the rooftop mirror and pulled it down to George’s face. George’s eyes opened fully, seeing the hefty black bags under his eyes and the ruffled edges on the top of his wrapper. He sighed, waving Lindsey back to give him room to move. Lindsey stepped aside as George wandered into the back. George dimly smiled at Lindsey, making an effort to show his gratitude. Lindsey smiled back and took a seat behind the wheel. The rain had vanished by now, with a few dark clouds being the only remnants of last nights storm. George planted himself onto the mattress, rubbing his sore hand as Lindsey started the car.

Lindsey appreciated the silence. Watching the fields passing along the road was a nice sight. Cornfield’s blurred into green squares with yellow tops. He peeked at the rearview mirror above, noting George’s peaceful slumber. He looked back out the windshield, a gas station sat idly amidst a plain grassland. Lindsey checked the gas dial, it wasn’t low but it wasn’t high either.

He pulled the car beside the pumps and got out, opening the gas cap and filling up the car. Another smaller car sat opposite from the van, Lindsey watched as a Kitchen Knife strutted over to the store. The numbers ticked up until the car was full, to which he put the pump back and walked over to the station. A dinging sound emitted from above the two glass front doors. Inside were the typical food and drink aisles just in front of the checkout desk.

“Two bags.” The Knife requested, leaning over the desk and presumably whispering something to the Whiteboard behind the desk.

The Board nodded and grabbed a ring of keys from a drawer under the desk and led the Knife outside. Lindsey stood away from the door and let the two leave. He looked around the room, his shoes clacked on the white tiled floor as he ventured down the aisles. Finding the fridges at the back of the store, Lindsey browsed through the options. Nothing too appealing caught his eye as a dinging sound came from behind him. In walked the Whiteboard, wiping his lips momentarily before resuming his post behind the counter. Lindsey swiped a bottle of water from the fridge and moved to the desk.

“Pump 2,” Lindsey addressed the Broom, placing the water down on the counter.

The Whiteboard cleared his throat and took Lindsey’s money as he offered it.

“There you go, have a good one.” The Whiteboard said, handing the water back to Lindsey.

As Lindsey walked to the front doors the Whiteboard called out to him.

“Wait, can you do me favour?”
“Yeah?” Lindsey turned around and walked back up to him.

The Board took a pen and a notepad from under the desk and slid them to Lindsey.

“Can you copy these numbers onto this?” He asked, pointing at a string of numbers written on his Board.

Lindsey agreed and scribbled down the numbers and slid it back to the Whiteboard.

“Thanks, have a good day.” He smiled, Lindsey smiled back and returned to the van.

Lindsey sat back down in the front seat, dropping the bottle into the cupholder next to him. He started the car again and backed out of the gas station, slipping back onto the road.

The sun fell further, taking the temperature with it. Lindsey checked his watch, “15:00.” It read. Sparse clumps of trees had been building up since Lindsey left the gas station, slowly getting more and more frequent. After climbing a steep hill Lindsey had found himself driving along another tight forest road, though this one had much more spaces of clear land than the last. His tried stretching his legs in the cramped seat area to no avail. He noticed a tall red wooden sign in the distance and slowed down. A hiking trail. He parked on a gravel patch just behind the sign and got a good look at the trail. It lacked the dense forest that the last hiking trail had, only a few trees were at the start.

Lindsey turned off the car and woke George, still sleeping in the back.

“George, come on wake up.” Lindsey pushed.
“Yeah? How long did I sleep?” George answered as he forced himself up.
“Most of the day,” Lindsey informed.

George cursed to himself, upset at the waste of a day.

“So where are we now?” George asked.
“Hiking trail, was wondering if you wanted to go.” Lindsey told him.
“Sure, yeah, I’d love that.” George accepted, sitting up fully and wiping the sleep away from his eyes.

Lindsey shoved the back doors open and jumped out, followed by George. George eyed up the trail, the dirt path ahead leading up a hill and around a family of rocks. He stretched his arms and legs, Lindsey beginning before him. George caught up to Lindsey with no issue though as he maintained a perfect pace next to him.

“Not bad spotting Lis,” George noted with a smile.
“I try,” Lindsey jokingly replied.
“It is nice to get out after being cooped up in that van all day.” George mentioned.
“Definitely.” Lindsey corroborated.

They walked along the dirt trail, avoiding the momentary patches of mud along the way.

“You homesick, Lis?” George asked.
“Not really, I’ve always been distant with my relatives.” Lindsey admitted.
“How come?” George returned. “If you don’t mind me asking.” He added.
“I don’t like them, and they don’t like me.” Lindsey answered bleakly.
“Parents?”
“A father, I’ve never liked him though.” Lindsey paused before asking George, “What about you?”
“Oh, my parents are fine, my sister works at a law firm over in Dallas. We call sometimes.” George spoke.

They trekked up a steep hill, Lindsey fell behind as George swiftly passed over the grassy mound. Lindsey stopped for a second, catching his breath. George noticed Lindsey’s disappearance, turning around to find him struggling up the hill.

“Not the athletic type?” George joked, Lindsey didn’t share the humour and glared at him, frowning. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” George stammered.
“How else could you have meant it?” Lindsey grumbled, trudging past George as he felt his heart fall.

The walk provided a decent workout for the two, though the two weren’t unaccustomed to exercise in any form, Lindsey frequented the local park near his home and George often jogged around his apartment block. Lindsey’s breaths became more laboured, he stopped for a moment and looked below him. Atop the hill overlooked a partial woodland. It wasn’t a far drop down by any means, it wasn’t actually a drop at all, more of a ramp if anything. George stopped just ahead of Lindsey, seeing him lean over the hill.

“I’m sorry about what I said before.” George apologised.
“Yeah, it’s alright, I just had a little trouble there,” Lindsey explained.
“Are you okay?” George asked in concern.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lindsey reassured, looking away from George.
“Do you wanna head back now?” George asked, quickly adding, “It’s getting late.”
Lindsey pushed his tongue against his cheek and sighed.
“Yeah.” Lindsey replied, “I’d like that.”

He threw the bottle to George, though it had been out of the gas stations fridge for some time now, it was still cold. George threw the bottle back as he pressed it to his mouth, a cool stream of water flung down his throat. He took a breath and handed it back to Lindsey, who copied him before screwing the lid back on and dropping it back into the cupholder.

“So, how was it? Driving in this old thing?” George knocked against the van walls playfully and smiled.
“She’s not bad,” Lindsey remarked. “So, how was your sleep?” He added.
“It was nice, thanks for taking the wheel.” George spoke.
“It’s the least I can do considering your generosity.” Lindsey responded.

George smiled. Lindsey yawned and glanced at his wristwatch. The lack of sunlight outside could have told him the same thing.

“I don’t suppose you’re very tired, are you?” Lindsey teased.
“Sadly,” George murmured.
“Is that a sad thing?” Lindsey asked, George’s heart skipped a beat.
“Uh, well, not necessarily a sad thing I just meant…” George stuttered.
“Night George.” Lindsey cut him off, rolling onto the mattress and wrapping a blanket around himself, making sure to leave some spare for George.
“Goodnight Lis,” George responded, walking over to the front seats and sitting down.

Just like every day before, George woke up early and crossed off the day from the calendar. Despite not being tired the previous night he still found it very easy to fall asleep. He unfolded his paper map on the dashboard and retraced yesterdays journey. Just further from where they were parked was a lake, George noted the small boat icon just above it. From behind he heard Lindsey rustle around on the thin plastic mattress.

“Morning Lis,” George greeted, turning on the car.
“Hey George, we off already?” He asked.
“Found a nice river, theres a boat service down there.” George told him, turning his head around to face Lindsey, “You wanna go?”
“Sure.” Lindsey answered, sitting up and getting into the seat next to George.

The road winded and wrapped around mountain after mountain, each hill and mound of land getting bigger and bigger around them. From the road they could see down to the forests below, rocks and boulders cluttered around them like hoards of flies. At an intersection were two signs, a boat icon pointing to a slope that led down the cliff. George turned the van down it, eventually they could see the river through the trees.

At the bottom of the hill was a large wooden shed next to a muddy ramp that led down to the large river. It was torn and messy, planks of wood peeled off the walls and many of the dormant boats lying around had large gaping holes. George and Lindsey got out of the van and walked around, George called out for anyone but got no response. Lindsey walked around to the boats, many were stacked on top of each other whilst a few stragglers were left lying about. Lindsey lifted up the top boat from the pile, taking each boat off to search for a usable one.

“I don’t think anyones here Lis,” George stated.
“That’s fine, I found a boat for us anyways.” Lindsey pulled up a boat to the riverbank and shook it around. “It’s the only good one.”
George examined the boat, “We’ll probably need paddles.”

Lindsey jogged over to the shed and pushed on the door. It didn’t budge, so he tried again, throwing his shoulder into it. Nothing. George joined him, but instead of helping he looped around the building, looking for any other entrance. He tapped Lindsey on the shoulder and pointed to the roof.

“I think there’s a hole in the roof, boost me up.”

Lindsey cupped his hands and let George step onto them, he helped throw George onto the roof. George quickly lost his footing on the rickety structure, plummeting in with a crash. After a few banging sounds and ambient moans and grunts, the front door swung open.

“Are you alright?” Lindsey brushed him off, George awkwardly laughed.
“I’m fine, thanks, just hurt my arm a little bit.” He spoke, rubbing his shoulder.
“I’ll grab a paddle, wait outside,” Lindsey ordered, stepping past him and pulling a long wooden stick off a rack inside.

The entire shed reeked of gasoline and rain, piles of rubbish and debris covered the floor and walls. Lindsey held the paddle and paced over to George, who had the boat already floating in the river.

“Here we go, do you want to steer?” Lindsey offered, holding out the paddle to George as he leaned over the boat.
“Yeah sure,” George took the paddle and stood into the boat.

He held out his hand to Lindsey, who snickered and took it. They sat facing each other in the boat, George grabbed the paddle in both hands and planted it against the riverbank, pushing the boat off the shore and into the stream. The boat flowed with the current briskly, the river widening as they went. Soon they floated into a large lake with trees surrounding the shoreline around them. George stopped paddling, letting the boat bob up and down smoothly. He lowered the paddle into the boat, suddenly wincing in pain and retracting his hand.

“What?” Lindsey moved in to see what the issue was.
“Splinter. It’s in there deep.” George groaned, holding his finger close to his face.

Lindsey patted around in his coat pockets, feeling a weighty mass. He pulled out a square metal lighter and flicked it open.

“Have you got anything pointy?” Lindsey reached his hand out to George, who looked back at him perplexed.
“Uh, let me check.” He replied, digging into his pockets with his free hand. “I’ve got a paperclip?”

Lindsey nodded and waved the item over; George placed it into his palm. Lindsey rested the lighter on his lap and unfolded the paper clip, straightening it upright. He took the lighter and ran his thumb along the gears, a flame shot up in response. Raising the lighter and holding it to the tip of the paperclip confused George for a moment. Once the clip was hot enough, Lindsey put the lighter down again and took George’s wrist.

“You squeamish?” He asked, George instantly pulled his hand away.
“Uh uh, you’re not doing that.” George denied.
“Do you want it to get infected?” Lindsey said, George laughed.
“I’m not five, that trick isn’t going to work on me.” George protested.
“You’re acting five, now come on, give me your hand.” Lindsey pushed. “Come on, before this thing goes cold, then I’ll have to dig it out slowly.”

George whined and held his hand out to Lindsey, who tightly grasped his wrist again. He cautiously pushed the clip against George’s finger. He winced, but kept his composure.

“I don’t have any lollipops for you though, sorry.” Lindsey jested.

He dug the hot needle into his finger and pried out the stray splinter, taking it out and tossing it into the water. George squinted at his finger, trying to ignore the stinging pain.

“Oh right, here’s your lighter back,” Lindsey mentioned, handing the lighter back to George.
“Oh my god,” George sighed and giggled. “So how was it?”
“It was something,” Lindsey chuckled back.
“How much did you do?”
“I honestly can’t even remember.”

George fell back into the boat, laughing madly.

“You are the last person I’d ever expect to have to trip-sit for.” George laughed.
“I was bored!” Lindsey defended, still chuckling with George.

Lindsey felt the boat began to tilt sideways, his instincts kicked in immediately. He rushed to George, still recovering from his laughing fit, and grabbed him around the waist. Lindsey shifted George away, stabilising the boat. He held George with one hand and the side of the boat with the other, George flared up. Lindsey carefully retreated back to his side of the boat, watching every micro-movement the boat made.

“Not doing that again,” Lindsey joked.
“Yeah,” George weakly agreed, meekly sitting back up.

Both of them sat in silence, George stared at the floor of the boat in deep thought while Lindsey explored his surroundings. Around the lake was dense forest followed by steep cliffs leading up to the road above. George’s breaths were unsteady, his foot quaked on the boat floor. He moved his foot gently, but something caught his attention. His reflection shined back up at him from the floor. He tapped the wood with his foot. A ripple shot out from under his shoe followed by a tiny splash of water.

“Lis?” George alerted.
“Hm?”

George pointed to his foot, the ripple still visible. Lindsey’s eyes shot open wide as he lunged towards George and stole the paddle. He plunged the stick into the murky water below and rapidly pushed back to shore.

“Shove something in it!” Lindsey shouted, using his might to bring the boat back.

George panicked and threw his hands into the growing influx of lake water. He felt around for the entry point, waiting to feel his hands slip through the boat and into the freezing waters below. His hands brushed over a small crack in the floor and followed it, trying to find the original break. No breakage point appeared however, that’s when he felt the crack get bigger. Then he felt his end of the boat begin to dip, Lindseys rough paddling only made George’s side snap further and further.

“Hey, hey!” George yelled.
“What?” Lindsey yelled back.
“It’s not a hole! It’s snapping in half!”

Lindsey stopped rowing and looked over at George’s feet. He saw his side creep further into the lake water and acted quickly. Lindsey leaped at George, grasping his arm and pulling him over to his side of the boat. George collapsed next to Lindsey, almost tackling his waist out of instinct.

“Help me paddle!” Lindsey ordered.

George recovered and removed his hand from Lindsey’s stomach, throwing his arms into the freezing water and using his arms to propel the boat. Up ahead was a small mud cliff that led over the riverbank. Lindsey reached out and steadied the boat against the tall shoreline.

“Okay, you go,” Lindsey instructed, moving aside to let him through.
“You go, you’re closer.” George denied. “And you’re made of fabric.” He added. “And I’m covered in plastic.”
“Alright, I get it. I still don’t care, go.” Lindsey replied.
“Fine, we’re both adults, we can handle this debate maturely.” George spoke.

George jerked forward and shoved Lindsey off the boat and onto the dirt above, the boat sunk further, throwing George off balance. Lindsey got up and stretched out his arm to the boat. George stumbled onto his knee, the boat still falling further into the lake behind him. He shook with the boat, tumbling over the side and into the water. Lindsey shook his head and lightly hit the ground with his palm. George rose from the lake, spitting and choking. He scrambled up the hill with Lindsey’s aid, they sat together and watched as the small raft sailed away, slowly tipping by the stern which eventually snapped off, leaving the other half to float mindlessly before sinking just like its counterpart.

“Well, that was fun.” Lindsey smiled, he felt George fall onto his side.
“Cold.” George shuddered, his lip quivering.

Lindsey unraveled his overcoat and hung it over George, standing up and taking George with him.

“And hungry.” George stated, still shaking in every limb.
“I can take us somewhere, let’s just get you warm before you catch something.”
“Thank you doctor.” George joked.

He flicked his wrist, holding the key in the ignition. George sat right up to the heater as it blasted off fresh warm air. Lindsey held up a small smirk and put his hands onto the steering wheel.

“Can I borrow that map of yours?” Lindsey requested.
“Right.” George answered, taking out the map from the glove compartment and passing it to Lindsey.

Lindsey placed the map over the steering wheel, scouring over the land for somewhere to eat.

“There’s an off-road food joint about an hour away.” Lindsey stated, George nodded in response.

Lindsey bundled the map up and passed it back to George, who threw it back into the glove compartment. The lights on the dashboard blinked and flickering, a beeping sound alike to that of a vitals machine began to emit as Lindsey reversed the car up the hill. Once Lindsey had got the van back onto the main road, he held the wheel with one hand and reached into the back. George wore a disappointed look on his face as he grabbed the wheel for Lindsey.

“What are you doing?” George asked.
“Hold on,” Lindsey hushed him.

After scrounging around for a while, he returned to his seat and held a green scarf in his hands. He threw the scarf around George’s neck, also taking the time to readjust the towel around his body. George’s arm relaxed, still holding the wheel tightly as he watched Lindsey ruffle the small drops of water from the top of his wrapper. Lindsey grinned at him before refocusing on the road. George went quiet.

“Radio work?” Lindsey flicked the small grey dials on the dashboard and broke the silence.
“Nope.” George hesitantly answered, voice still shaky.
“Humour me.” Lindsey smirked.
“It’s your funeral.” George admitted, holding his head away as he slowly cranked the dial.

An ear-piercing screech rang out from the speakers, George winced as he turned the dial back down. Lindsey yelped, pulling one hand off the wheel to cover his ear. His mouth fell open at the sheer shock of how awful the radio was.

“That wasn’t even full volume.” George told him, voice going faint.

Though never leaving the hilltops, the trees slowly started to vanish along the road. In their place appeared townhouses upon plain grass. Shops began to pop up, followed by restaurants and cafés, most of which were closed. It was a humble little village, only a few roads dissected it. There were no signs of industrial pavement or sidewalks, little to no street signs or traffic lights, in fact there were no traffic lights at all. Lindsey turned down a small street and parked next to a bar.

“As long as it has food.” George sighed.

Chapter Text

George and Lindsey got out of the van and walked over to the bar. It wasn’t too busy, it probably didn’t have the capacity to be busy at all. It was a compact establishment, a bar at the front, obviously, beer taps, a television hanging from the roof and a few dining tables here and there. A dark wood floor spanned across the entire room, including the countertop where an idle barman stood by. George walked to a table and pulled out a chair for Lindsey, who sat down with him. Lindsey removed a menu laminate from a small holder on the table, there weren’t many choices, just basics. George followed along, taking out a menu for himself.

“I don’t think anyone’s here to serve us,” Lindsey noted. “Tell me what you want and I’ll go order.”
“Just a burger, I guess,” George requested, not thinking too hard about the decision.

Lindsey smiled and nodded, walking to the bar. A burger for George, but what for Lindsey? He didn’t know himself, but an idea soon arose. He was in a bar after all.

For Lindsey at least, noon passed quick. He could hardly remember one minute from the last as George led him out of the bar with one arm around his neck.

“You’re on a roll Lis.” George muttered, heaving Lindsey’s drunk self to the van.
“Yes I am!” He slurred back, his words dribbling together in an almost incoherent mess.
“I can’t tell whats worse, high Lindsey or drunk Lindsey.” George spoke to himself in a frustrated tone.

He looked over at Lindsey, an obnoxious smile plastered over his blushing face. Whatever made him happy, though he definitely preferred going on nature walks with him over stumbling around in the dark with him. George stomped over to the van, dragging Lindsey to the back doors and helping him in. He swooped Lindsey up by his legs, using what little strength he had left to roll his body into the back. After pushing his body to the bed, he climbed in and shut the doors behind him. Lindsey hardly moved once he was on the bed, snoring loudly as George tucked him in.

George leaned over Lindsey and took a spare pillow from the end of the bed. He sat down in the driver’s seat, folding his legs into his chest and planting the pillow in between his head and the handle of the car door. A moderately exhausting day such as this deserved a nice rest in George’s opinion, luckily for him it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep.

Whatever dreams George had at that time soon crumbled and fell as he awoke to the sound of knocking beside his head. He winced and rose from his fetal position on the seat. As he turned to look out the driver’s side window a bright light blinded him. His hands clasped over his eyes as the light disappeared. Once he recovered from the moment blinding, he returned his gaze outside. There, he saw a sturdy Wood Log standing at his door. The man adjusted his wide brim hat and leaned closer, motioning to roll down the window. George nodded and started the car, pressing the window button verbatim the mans instructions. He looked official, a badge clipped onto his chest and he was wearing a beige long sleeved shirt.

“What seems to be the problem sir?” George yawned, trying to seem as formal as a man surviving off 2 hours of sleep can.
“You can’t be sleeping out here.” The man informed him, peering in closer as he glossed the beam of his flashlight around the car.
“Sorry officer, I just didn’t want to risk driving at this time,” George excused.

George rubbed his eyes as the Sheriff aimed his flashlight to the back of the van. George noticed the Log’s discovery and moved to explain.

“Smells like alcohol in here, you been drinking son?” The Log interrogated.
“No, of course not sir, my friend back there just had a bit much to drink.” George chuckled, but the Log did not seem amused.
“Stay here.” He ordered, before walking away to his car.

George groaned and plowed his head into the headrest behind him. Eventually the man returned, but not to the window. George heard the backdoors open, the Log stood there and aimed his light at Lindseys, still asleep, face.

“Lindsey Grey, you have a warrant out for your arrest.” The Log spoke, stepping into the van and grabbing Lindsey’s arm.
“Hey, careful with him!” George yelled, the Log immediately looked up at him.
“Stay right there!” He shouted; George realised the idiocy of trying to pick a fight with an officer and backed off.

Lindsey’s eyes flickered as he woke to the Log placing him in cuffs. George cursed to himself as the Log placed lindsey onto the road outside. He walked around to George’s side, opening the door and ushering him out.

“You too.” He said, arresting George as well.
“Oh come on.” George muttered as the Log pressed him against the van walls.

Lindsey barely woke, even with his hands bound by sharp metal. His head throbbed violently which brought him a nausea so bad he thought he was going to puke his intestines out. George was placed next to him, he was too tired to plead with the officer, but he was still curious on how Lindsey of all people had a warrant.

“A warrant? What for?” George asked as the sheriff began to drive.

No response. George rolled his eyes and looked at Lindsey, it wasn’t a pretty sight. Every bump on the road would send jolts of pain into Lindsey’s aching skull, causing him to whine.

Fortunately, the ride was soon over. Lindsey and George were sat down on chairs facing a long metal desk in the reception office, waiting for the Log to finish his phone call. George nudged Lindsey’s arm with his elbow, though due to the cuffs his movement was heavily restricted. George watched as Lindsey’s cheeks would puff up as he desperately held back bile.

“Sir? Officer? Can you please get him a bucket or something? He’s going to vomit all over the place, look at him!” George's pleas went unanswered.

Lindsey retched before puking onto the chair next to him. His eyes welled up as he coughed ferociously, jerking in his seat. George could only watch as the poor man writhed in internal pain. The Log looked back at them in disgust, George frowned and grumbled at the cop.

“Well?” George complained.

The Log put the phone on the table and walked down the hallway, out of sight. He returned with a metal bucket, dropping it onto between Lindsey’s legs and resuming his call. Lindsey’s eyes burnt from the fluorescent lights on the ceiling, every thought he conjured up made his brain ache further. Lindsey gagged again and threw up in the bucket below him. As much as George wanted to help, he couldn’t help but scoot his legs away from the splash zone.

“How long is this going to take?” George nagged the officer, upsetting him further.

Still, the Log didn’t respond. George groaned, followed by Lindsey coughing. A clear slick of drool and puke lingered on Lindsey’s lip, George wanted to help but the handcuffs made it rather difficult. It took an hour of sitting and waiting for anything remotely notable to happen. The Log had left for about twenty minutes, only coming back to enter something into the laptop on the desk. Finally, he spoke up.

“Florida doesn’t want to pay to get your friend back, so I’m letting you go.” He announced.
“What did he even do? Surely it couldn’t have been worth all of this trouble.” George asked as his restraints were removed.
“You can ask him.” He snidely remarked.

George rubbed his wrist, checking up on Lindsey, who had now become a little more coherent.

“You’ll have to get your car from the impound lot, it’s just outside the station.” The Log informed.
“Thanks.” George sarcastically responded. “How much is it going to cost?” He followed up.
“I’ll pay.” Lindsey mumbled, trying to get up.
George helped him up; he shook and wobbled as he tried to regain balance. It was customary for George to decline, but it was Lindsey’s fault, so he didn’t protest. They were led outside, George still aiding Lindsey’s movement as they walked over to the impound lot. A dull white booth sat amongst chainlink fences guarding the lot. Lindsey fished out his wallet, still in his coat pocket from the bar, and fumbled for a few bills. Lindsey slid the green notes to a Jacket sitting in the booth, who fished them up from the table, quietly pocketing a few bills for himself before returning the change.
George guided Lindsey through the labyrinth of cars, shuffling past dangling and shattered rear view mirrors coated in grime and rust. Minivans with the seats torn out, wires falling out of the dashboard in clumps and cotton stuffing across the floor. The state of disrepair among the automobiles made it easy for George to differentiate his van from the others. He propped Lindsey up against the wall of the van as he tugged the back doors open, the smell of must and alcohol flew out like a swarm of bats escaping a derelict mansion. George threw Lindseys arm over his shoulder and helped him into the back.
Lindsey crawled to the mattress exhausted and desperate, letting his corpse fall flat onto the bed with a thud. George shut the doors and tried to wake Lindsey, before realising it would be useless. He slid into the driver's seat and started the car; it sputtered and went quiet. George snarled and reached under his seat, pulling out a wrench. He stormed out of the van and tore open the hood, taking the wrench to the engine with a growing ferocity. The wrench struck the cars metal innards again and again, making a banging noise each time. Finally, he backed up and threw the wrench at the engine, watching it bounce off and land on the ground beside his feet.