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Walking is one of the easiest things a person can do. One foot in front of the other. Easy peasy. It becomes less easy however when you’re forced to do it non stop for days on end.
Stebbins has been paying attention to Garraty for most of the Walk. There’s not much to do and Stebbins hasn’t really been talking to anyone besides the occasional snide comment or ‘fun’ fact about the Long Walk. Walk (or rather limp), watch Garraty, get his canteen refilled. It’s raining again. It’s night and without the light from the tanks, it would be impossible to see two feet ahead. Stebbins would probably be watching Garraty right now. Garraty’s currently supporting McVries while he gets some sleep. It’s a stupid thing to do. If one of them trips, the other goes down with them and then that’s it. Stebbins is not watching Garraty. He’s watching Collie Parker.
Collie’s a bit odd. He’s quiet and shy. The longest conversation he’s ever had with another Walker was with Art Baker, but that was hours ago. Collie can also get loud. He happily participated in everyone’s FUCK THE LONG WALK FUCK THE MAJOR chants. He’s snapped at Barkovitch a few times, mainly when Barkovitch had been harassing the other Walkers. It’s the sort of rightfully placed anger that Stebbins admires. But other than that, Collie’s been quiet. He also cries a lot. It’s silent because of course it is. Stebbins has noticed it a few times. He’s not exactly sure if the others have noticed Collie’s crying. Maybe Baker has comforted him once or twice. Stebbins can’t be too sure.
Collie’s crying right now. Stebbins knows the telltale signs of it by now. Collie’s head hangs a bit low, his shoulders shake, and he fidgets with his sleeves. His bottom lip even puffs out into a literal pout when he cries.
Stebbins strides over to Collie. Collie doesn’t notice right away. Since they’re so close, Stebbins can hear his uneven breathing and sniffling.
“I’ve always liked the rain,” Stebbins says.
This startles Collie. He looks up and automatically wipes his eyes with his soaked sleeve .
“What?”
“I’ve always liked the rain,”
“I don’t,” Collie replies. “I’ve always hated it.”
“Why?” asks Stebbins.
Stebbins has always found the rain to be a calming presence. When he was very young, he and his mom had a few ducks. Only about five or six. If there was a light drizzle or right after it rained, his mom would let the ducks out and Stebbins would watch them splash in the puddle, their feathers puffing out as they bathed in the muddy water. He would follow them around and he was always particularly worried about the ducklings. Stebbins crouched by the puddles they would swim in because he thought they would tip over and sink to the bottom of the puddle. When Stebbins got a bit older, he would sit on the porch with a book in hand but never read during that time because he was transfixed on watching the ducks play. His mom would sit next to him, smoking a cigarette. She only felt comfortable smoking around him when he turned fourteen. If Stebbins managed to tear his attention away from the ducks and his mom was still sitting next to him, he would read his book out loud for her.
Collie very clearly doesn’t like nature and he seems to have some sort of disdain for the entirety of Maine. Stebbins can’t really blame him. The Long Walk is a pretty shit first impression. Collie seems to be uncomfortable in his own skin when it comes to the rain. He’s fidgety. He keeps on swiping away the strands of hair that sit to his neck and forehead. When he’s not doing that, he’s rubbing his knuckles along his clothed arms roughly. Collie winces with every step and Stebbins has the sneaking suspicion part of the reason is because his socks are wet.
“I guess this is a bad time to be in the rain,” Stebbins says.
“It’s always a bad time to be in the rain,” Collie argues. His voice is soft. He’s not trying to get into a debate with Stebbins about the rain of all things. He’s just keeping the conversation going. “I prefer to be in my apartment. Warm and dry.”
Stebbins wonders if he reaches out and touches Collie, he’ll be ice cold. Or maybe he wouldn’t be able to tell. Stebbins is also cold but he’s grown used to it and he’s walking. It’s a weird feeling.
Stebbins takes a closer look at Collie. He’s exhausted. He has heavy bags under his eyes. Collie yawns rather loudly. It triggers a few other Walkers around them to yawn. Collie rubs his eyes and crosses his arms. Even like that, he’s still rubbing his knuckles along his arms. How odd. It must be a habit - a soothing technique Collie mindlessly does to keep himself ground. Good for him. It’s the little things that can keep a person going and ensure their Win.
Of course, Stebbins wants to win. No. He has to win. But that doesn’t mean he can’t point out when another Walker is doing something right. Collie could win but Stebbins has a sneaking suspicion his emotions are going to get in the way.
“Have you slept?” asks Stebbins, wanting to keep the conversation going.
“Not a wink. Everytime I feel myself dozing, I panic. I don’t think I can trust myself to keep on walking if I fall asleep.”
Stebbins understands that. He dozed off a few times but it’s too noisy. His cough is keeping away too.
“I’m almost jealous of them,” Collie says, looking towards McVries and Garraty. “Lucky bastards.”
“They’re being stupid. One wrong move and they both go down and get their tickets.”
Collie shrugs his shoulders, “I think it’s beautiful. There’s still good in the world. This is an ‘every man for himself’ event and they’re still looking out for each other. We need that kinda thing.”
“It won’t change anything. There still has to be one winner.”
“Maybe one of them will die for the other. Man, this fucking hellscape of a country would love that.”
Collie isn’t wrong. The country would lose it’s fucking mind if Garraty died for McVries or vise versa. They could weave a million stories about brotherly love and the brotherly part probably wouldn’t be accurate. The love part is definitely accurate.
“I still think it could change something. This whole thing relies on us being individuals and not a people. Without our communities, we’re nothing. Even if it changes nothing, at least dozens of boys die every year knowing they had someone who understood exactly what this is like walking by their side. They won’t die totally alone. That shit is so important.” Collie explains. “It means we’re not entirely divided like they want us to be.”
Oh there it is. Collie’s unrelenting belief that community is everything. That people have to look out for each other to make things worth it. Him defending the boys from Barkovitch’s verbal abuse, joining in on the FUCK THE LONG WALK chants, him trying so desperately to connect with the others. He believes that people need others and he’ll defend people because community matters more than anything. It’s probably part of the reason why he’s still talking to Stebbins, right?
That rightfully placed anger and unwavering belief in community is gonna get Collie his ticket, isn’t it? He’d charge the soldiers and take their guns because he believes his fellow Walkers deserve someone who will look after them. Collie believes they all deserve better than this. Stebbins doubts Collie joined the Walk to commit political assassination but it’s definitely on his mind now.
Stebbins watches Collie carefully. He’s cold. He’s so cold and scared and not just for himself, but for the others here walking with him. And if Collie were to charge the tank, would anyone go after him? Baker might. Stebbins isn’t too sure. His brain is all foggy from the exhaustion.
“Even you,” Stebbins says. “You said community matters. That goes for you too, Parker.”
“You have a heart of gold, Stebbins,” jokes Collie.
Stebbins frowns and begins to rather clumsily slip off his jacket. It’s hard without taking off his backpack but it’ll have to do. It’s cold without his jacket but tolerable. The cold is nothing compared to the pain in the rest of his body and he’s sick anyway. “Gimme your pack.”
“What?”
“Just do you, Parker,” Stebbins says.
Collie frowns but obliges. He slips off his backpack and hands it to Stebbins, who passes his jacket to Collie.
“No,” says Collie.
“Yes. You’re cold.”
“So are you,”
“Collie,” Stebbins says.
Collie sighs and slips on the jacket. He grabs his backpack from Collie and puts it back on. “Happy?”
“Just,” Stebbins says hesitantly. “Get some sleep. I’ll support you.”
Collie slowly does the mental gymnastics. Stebbins waits patiently.
“We’re not gonna trip. Just get some sleep.” Stebbins tells him.
Collie walks a bit older to Stebbins and slings an arm around his shoulders. Stebbins wraps an arm around Collie’s waist.
It doesn’t take very long. About five minutes later, Collie’s out cold, head hanging low. Stebbins keeps walking. One foot in front of the other because it’s supposed to be the easiest thing in the world. Stebbins adjusts his grip on Collie as Art passes by them. He sends them a weird look as he tilts his head to the side.
“What?” whispers Stebbins.
“Thank you,” he whispers back.
Stebbins nods. He isn't too sure what Art means by that. Maybe he wanted to carry Collie but was too tired. Or maybe Collie rejected his offers. Either is entirely possible.
When the sun begins to rise, Collie wakes. The rain stopped about an hour ago. He’s still groggy. As he’s adjusting, he ends up resting his head on Stebbins shoulder. Collie, even in his sleepy state, he’s still rubbing his knuckles along his arms. Stebbins doesn’t push him away. It doesn’t slow either of them down so why separate? They only separate when Collie awakens as much as could in their current situation.
“Oh good, the rain stopped,” Collie comments.
Stebbins nods, “You must be thrilled.”
“I am,” Collie answers. “You want your jacket back?”
Stebbins nods. It takes Collie a minute to get the jacket off but he manages. As Stebbins is putting his jacket back, Collie asks the million dollar question. “ Do you wanna get some sleep?”
Stebbins nods again. He lets Collie wrap an arm around him and he relaxes just a bit. Collie’s right. This is worth it. They’re both less alone now.