Chapter Text
Day 1,XXX
I shouldn’t care. That’s the simple solution, right? Don’t get attached. Don’t expect anything. Don’t build a future in your head like an idiot. October finds Reese. October leaves. End of story. That’s how this always goes. So why does it feel different this time?
Why do I keep noticing the way he sits closer when it’s cold? Why do I memorize the stupid little details I pretend not to care about? I don’t want to be the thing he leaves behind. I don’t want to be another temporary stop. If I never ask, I never have to hear him say goodbye.
—
Andy slammed his notebook, resentment etched in his face.
For fucks sake!
Andy looked around. The serene night atmosphere made his heartbeat slow, calmer than what his ranting gave him. Several passive-aggressive huffs told him that. A fire crackled several feet away, and the growing group was scattered around in makeshift beds that felt no better than the ground. He looked up, seeing the stars who promised another day. They looked like city lights, ones he wished so badly to see once more. Great. Now, his mind had shifted to someone that was gone. Someone who deserved being here, admit it, more than him. Marlie. Even someone who seemed like the perfect person to have a good ending, had to die.
“Stupid bugface.” He told himself. But it seemed more like an attempt to convince rather than a label.
—
His eyes were stuck on the fire, poking the flame with a twig he found. The flame crawled closer to his fingers, faster than he expected. He dropped it like it burned more than wood. Though a small part of his finger had gotten a bit burnt. He looked at it, wincing as he checked.
“Didn’t know you were awake.” A voice said behind him. A voice he knew too well. October. He had a stupid smile stuck on him, this weird in-between of sleepy, on the brink of laughter, and something he couldn’t put his finger on.
Andy turned around, and crossed his arms.
“I could say the same.”
Andy walked towards him then scooted over, sliding down the wall, next to October. Closer to the fire, he could see every little detail of the soul next to him. Things he never cared enough to look at so…closely. His grey eyes, the way the brown in his hair turned a dark reddish in the light, or the plethora of piercings he had.
“…Earth to Andy? Hello?”
His eyes, and his mind refocused on the question on hand when he realized a minute had gone by, just by his looking at October.
He planned to give out another huff to give out the message. But he didn’t know what message he wanted to give. A sigh was all that came out.
“You okay?”
Andy gave a small nod, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket.
“I guess..yeah.” He mumbled.
“A ‘I guess’ isn’t a yes, y’know.” The
brunet replied, looking at Andy with that same in-between expression.
What could he say to that? ‘No, I’m fucking fantastic! The sheer fact you’re going to leave me soon isn’t killing me!”.
Instead, all he did was let out another soft sigh, dragging it out long enough for October to notice the weight behind it.
“You’ve been quiet,” October said, tilting his head slightly. “You know… you can talk to me.”
Andy’s jaw tightened. He wanted to say something—literally anything—but the words clung to the back of his throat. So he stayed still, hands shoved deeper into his hoodie pocket, eyes fixed somewhere just past the firelight, pretending not to notice how close October’s presence felt.
“Even if you’re thinking something stupid,” October added, a small teasing edge in his voice, “I’ll still listen. I’m not going anywhere.”
Andy swallowed, heart doing that ridiculous thump-thump he tried to ignore. He almost laughed at himself for wanting to believe it. Almost.
Instead, he let himself lean back slightly, as if the motion were accidental, until his shoulder brushed October’s. Neither moved. Neither spoke. And for a few quiet moments, it didn’t matter that the world was falling apart outside their little circle of firelight.
It felt strange, having someone who said that. People did go somewhere, and he knew that.
Andy’s shoulder nudged closer, almost by accident, almost on purpose. He felt the warmth from October beside him, steady and unshakable, and for a second his chest tightened in a way he couldn’t name.
Without thinking, he shifted again, letting his head drop onto October’s lap. The motion was small, careful, like he was testing gravity and permission at the same time. His eyes stayed on the fire, but the brush of October’s hand on his shoulder made it impossible not to notice him.
“That’s new,” October said softly, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “You planning on making a habit of this?”
“Yuck, fuck off.” he retorted. It took Andy everything to move mere inches, but nothing stopped him from standing up and leaving. Right?
“You know,” October added after a beat, brushing a finger through Andy’s hair, “you could’ve just said something instead of writing it down all the time. I see it, you know… the stuff you don’t say.”
Oh my god, what was that? Every receptor in Andy’s brain suddenly fired up, making a mix of something he didn’t know. Did he really just do that shit? He wanted the walls to come back up again, back to what it was when they were still strangers. He swallowed his thoughts down, not realizing his body was frozen.
Andy froze, caught between the urge to run and the ridiculous pull that kept him there. Every instinct screamed “move,” but every fiber of him wanted… this. Right here. Right now.
October’s hand stayed in his hair, light and steady. No pressure. No words that demanded answers. Just… presence. And that was worse than anything Andy could have imagined.
“Can you calm down, for once?,” October said, chuckling. “I’m not going anywhere.”
…”Not tonight.”
Andy blinked, heart thumping, and for the first time in hours — maybe days — he let himself exist in the moment. No plans. No apocalypse. No what-comes-after. Just warmth, quiet, and the subtle knowledge that he wasn’t entirely alone.
And still, a tiny, nagging thought lingered: what happens after?
—
Andy shifted slightly, letting his head press a little closer into October’s lap. His chest tightened again, and he swallowed hard, trying to ignore how fast his heart was
racing.
“You’ve been quieter than usual,” October said, tilting his head down to look at him.
“You look like you’re thinking a million things at once.” Andy huffed, a little defensively.
“…Just tired.”
October raised an eyebrow. “Sure. Tired. That’s what we’re calling it now.” He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from Andy’s forehead. “You know… you can talk to me. I see it. The stuff you don’t say.”
Andy froze, the warmth of October’s hand burning through him in a way he couldn’t name. “…It’s nothing,” he muttered, though the lie sounded hollow even to his own ears.
October didn’t push. He just let his hand rest there, steady.
“Hey. I know you like writing in that little diary of yours, but you can talk to me too. I’ll listen. No judgment.”
Andy swallowed. He wanted to say something — anything — but all that came out was a half-huff and a quiet: “…I don’t know what happens after this.”
“Hm? After what?” October asked softly.
“After we… you find her.” Andy’s voice cracked slightly.
October’s eyes softened. “I… I don’t know either. But I’ll figure it out. And I’m not leaving you behind, okay? Not yet.”
Andy’s stomach clenched. “…’Not yet’ isn’t really comforting,” he muttered.
October gave him a half-smile, teasing but gentle. “It’s honest.”
Andy shifted again, just a little closer, letting the tension in his chest ease slightly.
“…I guess that’s all I can ask for,” he admitted quietly.
They stayed like that for a while. Neither of them said anything else, but the small touches — the steady hand, the warmth beneath his head — spoke everything Andy didn’t have words for.
And for now, that was enough.