Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

He saw the man standing in the queue for the soup kitchen in Camden, and his heart stopped.

The man was- and there was no other way of forming that thought in his mind, perfect.

He was not beautiful, he transcended that. He was the perfect height. His body had just the right amount of bulk, his hands were perfectly broad. His glasses sat at the prefect angle on his nose, hooked behind perfectly formed ears. Everything about him, from his hunched shoulders under the too-large duffle coat to how he shuffled forwards as the line moved up, was utterly and indescribably perfect.

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He just stared until the woman behind grumbled and shoved him forward. He stumbled. “Come on.” She whined, huddled in several layers of coats. “It’ll all be gone at this rate.”

Food. Right. He shook himself. Moved forwards, but kept his eyes locked on the man, afraid that if he blinked once too often he would vanish. His heart was beating wildly as at the man reached the counter and took his helping of vegetable curry and rice, started to walk away, absently shoving spoonfuls into his mouth as he made his way to the exit.

No. He couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to. He lurched out of the line and followed. The man was tall, his long legs ate up the distance while he could just scurry along behind, already out of breath after just two streets. Finally the man paused, his meal finished, and wiped his bowl and spoon clean before storing them in a pocket of his massive coat, and he managed to catch up. “Wait!”

The man turned. The blue eyes behind his glasses tightened in a frown, white-streaked ginger hair curling around his cheeks in a way that made him want to cry. “Um, yeah?”

“I- uh.” He stared at him, what was he supposed to say? He hadn’t had time to think of anything- “You dropped this.” He reached into his pocket, and grabbed the first thing he found.

The man looked at the crumpled up five pound note in his hand, “That’s not mine.” He said flatly.

“Oh- um. I thought you dropped it.” His face was burning, it was terrible. Please, please, he couldn’t go. He couldn’t just leave. “I’m- pretty sure it’s yours.”

The man took the note. Spread it out on his hand, smoothing out the creases. There was something so delicate in those big, heavy fingers, and it made him swallow with difficulty. He looked at him, then at the note. Then back at him, the frown deeper now, but there was something- so sad in his eyes. And he had no idea how he’d known that.

Then the man put the note in his pocket. “Thanks.” Turned to go.

He opened his mouth- to say what he had no idea, just that his mind was screaming no and he couldn’t just-

The man stopped, turned his face, just a little. The last of the afternoon light caught across his cheek, the bridge of his nose, made his glasses glint. “So, you’re coming?”

He could have cried. He blinked back tears. Nodded through the lump in his throat and started walking.

“Were you at the soup kitchen?” The man fell into a familiar cadence of walking, that rolling, easy gait of someone who was ready to keep going all day.

“Um, yes. I saw you and- the money! I had to bring you the money, but you were going, so-“

“Sure.” he was smiling. “The money. Did you eat anything?”

“Um.” He looked away, his stomach growled. “No, I should- could we go back?”

“It’ll be closed by now.” The man reached into his jacket and pulled out an energy bar. “Here.”

“I can’t-“

“I can buy more with the money.” He shrugged.

“It was your money.” He took the bar anyway. Apple and cranberries.

“Sure it was.”

They walked in silence. He wolfed down the energy bar, and felt a lot better. The man was strolling down towards Chalk Farm, and for a few moments where the sun was shining through the reddening leaves of the trees, still holding fragments of summer warmth, that man’s perfection seemed to flow out of him, and the whole world became, for that briefest instant, paradise.

“I’m Kay.” The man said suddenly, and he almost jumped.

“W-what?”

“My name.” There was a slightly ironic twist to his lips, like a private joke he wasn’t fond of. “Kay.”

“Oh. Right. Ah.” It wasn’t right. It was absurd but that was not Kay’s face, those were not Kay’s hands. He was not a Kay, he was-

“And your name?” He- Kay, prompted.

“I, oh. I don’t have one.”

Kay did stop then. “You don’t have a name.” It was said slowly, but not mocking. He seemed to be sounding the words out, tasting them.

“No. Sorry?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Okay.” They kept walking. “Do you have- a nickname, something people call you?”

“No. No one really bothers to talk to me.”

“Where are you staying?”

“Hendon. I was in Epping for a while but I- didn’t get on there.”

“No.” he said softly. “I don’t like Epping much either. I thought Hendon was better though.”

“They’re fine, just- I’m a bit much. And it’s a lot of the old hands there, you know. They don’t like all these newcomers. It’s making things hard for them.”

“Hardly your fault.”

“It could be? I don’t remember.” At a curious look, he smiled. “Anything. That’s why I don’t have a name. I woke up nearly two years ago now. No ID, no missing persons, just-“ he shrugged helplessly.

“Did you get hit by a car, or something? Knocked on the head?”

“Stabbed.”

The man blinked. “Shit. In the head?”

“No. Chest. I was in the hospital for a bit, and I lost a lot of blood. They thought it might be because of that, my brain was starved of oxygen for too long and there was some damage. I’m lucky it wasn’t worse, they said.”

“I bet.” Kay’s eyes shuttered. His mouth moved around words he didn’t speak, then,“Wrong place at the wrong time?”

“Probably.” He touched his chest, rubbing knuckled over the old scar where the knife had gone in. The rush of warm feeling followed the touch, as it always did. The same swell of joy as when he looked that Kay. “I- ah, what about you?”

“I’m going to Notting Hill. You can come if you want; extra pair of eyes and everything.”

That was as clear a don’t fucking ask again as he had ever heard, so he bit his tongue against the burning questions and just kept walking. “What are we doing in Notting Hill?”

“Rich idiot central.” Kay rolled his shoulders as they reached Swiss Cottage, started across the intersection and down towards Regent’s Park. “And they always do clear outs on Sunday mornings. I know a place to camp out under the Westway, and then we can get first pickings.”

“Very well.”

The richer parts of London had just as many rough sleepers as the poorer ones. He got a few odd looks, but no one said anything.

“Oh.” He pointed. “Wait a minute, stop.” And put his hand on Kay’s arm.

Kay stopped dead as if he’d been stabbed. He stepped back, quickly dropping his hand. It tingled from the warmth of Kay, even through his coat. “Sorry!”

“No, that’s- fine.” Kay drew in a breath. “What?”

“Over there.” He pointed to a large bin. “There’s a bakery in Cricklewood that has their leftovers sent here, and that’s their bin.” He walked over; a large chain was wrapped around the bin lid.

“How-“ But he had shoved the bin lid up with his shoulder, the chain pulling taut but opening the lid just a few inches. He squirmed an arm out of the sleeves of his clothes, and rammed it in the opening. Kay hurried over, grabbing the lid and pulling it as hard as he could. He nodded, twisting his hand around until he found the triumphant crinkling of a plastic bag. “Got it!”

He drew his arm back. It took some manoeuvring to get the bag out, and some of the bagels were rather squashed. Kay wasn’t looking at them, though; he was looking at his arm. He looked down at it. It was thin and bony, gnarled with scars. “I- ah.” He said helplessly.

“Are those-“ Kay pointed to the small round scars on his forearm, and he suddenly realised what it must look like.

“No! I mean, I don’t think so. I might have, before of course, but not now.”

“Okay.” Kay was still frowning. “Are they- from cigarettes or something?”

“Perhaps? I do smoke.” He put the bag down, and undid the knot. “Look, plenty for dinner at least.”

He worked his arm back into the comforting cocoon of sweaters and jackets, glad to get it out of sight. Kay sat beside him on the pavement, and started going through the bag. “There’s some sandwiches.” He smiled. “Probably still good as long as we stay away from the meat.”

“Cream cheese here.”

They split the sandwiches, and packed a few more bagels for later, and left the bag tucked away besides a fence where it could be found by those who knew where to look. “Where are we going now?”

“This way.”

Kay led them to a small camp under the dual carriageway. The din of cars passing above made it hard to hear anything else as the traffic roared through the tail end of rush hour. The camp wasn’t much, a sleeping bag kept rolled up in a tarp, hidden in the shrubbery. Kay unrolled both, and waved for him to sit.

He sat and hugged his knees as the evening chill started to bite, the traffic above fading as people made their way back to their warm homes for the night. “You’re staying here?”

“No, I’ve got my own place. What about you, Hendon?”

“Well, you heard about the raid two days ago?”

“Ah.”

He hunched in his coat, knotting himself up tighter. Waking to the sounds of police and dogs had been- strangely familiar, and he wondered once again what his life had been like before. He doubted it had been much better than this.

“I’m sorry. I thought there’d been a warning.”

“There was, but I thought I still had time to find somewhere new.” He shrugged, “I have a knank for bad timing, it seems.”

“Well.” Kay looked away, “You could- stay with me, if you want. Just until you get back on your feet.”

He blinked, swallowed. Oh. “Thank you.” He whispered.

“But you need to have a name.” Kay smiled. “I’m not calling you ‘you’ or, ‘guy’.”

“Guy is a name.”

“Only if it goes with Fawkes.”

He grinned; it felt strange on his face. “Very well. I don’t know where to start though.”

“Alphabetically, I guess. Andrew.”

“Oh God no.”

“Good call. Arnold.”

“I don’t have any muscles.”

Kay was smiling too, slow and wide, spreading across his face like a rising sun. “Aaron.”

“I- no. I don’t think so.”

“Arthur.”

“Wait.” He swallowed. That had felt- “It’s not right, but-“

“It’s close? Art? Artie?”

“Ar-“ He closed his eyes. “Arc-“

“Archie?”

“Archie.” K, not ch.

“Archie.” Kay tasted the name, thoughtfully. “Like Archibald?”

“It might be.” How could he know?

“Okay.” Kay looked him up and down. “You don’t really look like an Archie, but you do kinda sound like one.”

“Thank you, I suppose?”

Kay got them up before dawn, heading into Notting Hill proper to see what people were throwing out. There were a few others around, but it was clear they’d gotten in ahead of the rush, because he could not believe what people were throwing out. Clothes, electronics, furniture, Kay pounced on a sweater with the label still on. Lacoste. Archie looked around and spotted something left behind a row of large metal bins. “There’s something- here! Look at that!.”

A piano. A whole electric keyboard that appeared to be in perfect condition, only missing the power cord. Kay whistled between his teeth. “Yeah. Good call. Help me with it.”

Archie nodded, and took the end; it was mercifully not too heavy. “I know a guy who buys this stuff.” Kay panted as they made their way along Holland Park. “But we need to get the cable or he’ll knock off half the price.”

“Very well.”

They stopped at a small hardware store, and Archie ran in to buy a cheap power cable, Kay standing guard over their find. He came back with it and was rewarded with a broad, pleased grin from Kay. “Oh, that’s a win. That’ll be two fifty, maybe three hundred.”

Archie’s heart soared at the smile, brilliant as the morning. It washed away the weariness of carrying the piano, the weariness of what were now three nights of broken sleep. They carried their prize to a rather seedy looking garage in Shepherd’s Bush, outside of which a fat Turkish man sat in the deckchair, chewing absently on a cheap cigar. He gave a broad, lazy grin as they came into view. “Now that’s quite a find, Kay.”

“Yeah.” Kay set down his end, wiped his forehead. “Worth at least three hundred, right?”

“Let me have a look.” The man levered himself ponderously from his chair, looked over the piano. “Get it inside, let’s try it out.”

They carried it the last few feet, and the man plugged it in. The instrument lit up, and the man pulled up his chair, setting his fingers on the keys and playing a little ditty. “I didn’t know you played.” Kay said.

“I don’t.”

Archie opened his mouth to ask, but Kay stepped on his foot. “Three hundred?”

The man played a tune, one handed, tested a few of the effect sliders. “Two fifty. And an extra five for the plug.”

Kay opened his mouth to protest, the man sighed and pointed at the power cable. “The label is still on.”

Kay sighed. “Fine.”

“Good doing business with you.” He opened a small cash box on a shelf. “Now, if I go asking about this, I won’t be hearing about you finding a skinny friend to get in through a window and lifting this nice piece from someone’s living room, only that he forgets the plug?”

“No.” Kay scowled. “We got it on the corner of Ladbroke Grove.”

“I don’t think I could lift it by myself.” Archie put in.

“That’s a fair point.” He took the last of his cigar into his mouth and chewed. “Good enough then. Here you go boys, don’t spend it all in one place.”

“Thanks, Mr Akif.”

“See you soon, Kay, and skinny friend.”

“Goodbye.” Archie smiled.

Kay counted the notes, nodded. “Great, I think they’re all real at least.” He split them in two piles and offered one to Archie.

Archie stared at the money. “I- no.”

“What?” Kay frowned. “Look, you found it, and did half the work.”

“I don’t- I can’t- please-“ He was talking, his mouth going without thinking because if Kay gave him the money then he would want Archie to leave. He had given Archie shelter for the night, food, a name- and now with the money he wouldn’t want to give any more and he’d want Archie to leave and then he would be alone again in a world that made no sense and a mind that was so utterly shattered and the sun would burn out and the sky would look and- and-

He was aware of Kay’s hand on his back, gently rubbing it. He’d collapsed in the gutter and was dry-heaving. Shuddering after a panic attack.

“It’s okay.” Kay said, and his voice was so soft and gentle that Archie wanted to cry. “You thought I was going to tell you to go away, right? Just give you the money and fuck you off?”

Archie nodded.

“Then I’m not going to do that.” He sat beside Archie. “Look, I’ve been on my own for- a while, anyway. I’ve been managing, but-“ He looked away, rubbed his arm. “It’s not always been good.” He repeated, softer. “So, maybe it’s time I try with someone, and- I like you, so if you want to stay, that’s good for me.”

Archie looked at him in disbelief. He hadn’t wanted to think about the future, never had since he’d woken and known nothing but that he was lost. And he had been lost ever since, so what future could he have?

But one was being offered here, in the hand of this man, as he reached it out to him, to help him up. Archie tried to find something to say; then gave up and took his hand. Kay pulled him up and for a moment, they stood together, close enough that Archie could feel the heat of his body, hear the soft hitch of his breath.

He smelled rather bad, but they Archie doubted he was any better; baths were hard to come by here. But he smelled like him, that perfect smell of home and comfort and safety. Archie fought the urge to drop his head and bury his face in Kay’s coat.

He managed not to, but couldn’t bring himself to step away. Oddly, Kay didn’t either, nor did he let go of Archie’s hand. Warm, so warm, Archie felt lightheaded from too many emotions, too quickly.

“Um.” Kay said awkwardly, then let go of his hand.

Archie exhaled and stepped back. “Thank you.” He said softly.

“No problem.” There was a small smile on Kay’s lips. “Let’s go back, see if we can find anything else.”

“Won’t they all be gone?”

“Eh, probably, but it’s worth a try.”

They strolled back. The sun rising before them, dappling through the autumn leaves of the trees lining the street.

“Your hand?” Kay asked softly.

Archie looked down, oh. Right, he was so used to it that he barely noticed it any more, even though there was still a dull ache when he exerted it too much. “I, ah- yes. I think I got burned.”

“I suppose you don’t know how?”

“No, that was before.” Archie flexed his hand, feeling that faint, familiar pain. “It must have been bad.”

“It looks like someone pressed a- poker there or something.”

“Maybe.” Archie shrugged. “I assume people don’t like me much.”

“That’s wrong.” Kay whispered.

Archie looked down at his hands. The burns, the round scars, the ragged marks around his nails and the broken ridges and damage to the nails themselves. He wondered if there was an inch of him that wasn’t ruined. “A lot of things are.”

“Yeah. I hate that.”

Archie smiled. “So do I.”

They went to Kensington instead, strolling through the streets, keeping an eye on the bins. There wasn’t much there- no doubt this area had its own contingent of homeless people going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. But there was a good corner where Archie had had some luck before, and they set up there, sitting against the railings, out of the wind with a hat out for change.

“It used to be better, I heard.” Archie huddled in his coat. “But people don’t use money much, these days.”

“Yeah.” Kay put down an old cap, and sat down beside Archie.

Archie leaned against him, feeling the faint sun warm them, and when he leaned against Kay, it seemed to shine all the brighter. Kay didn’t looked at him, but there was a small smile on his face as the tourists began to flock the pavements around them. They got a few pounds thrown their way before the police turned up; and they had to run. Archie fell back, struggling to keep up- and saw Kay carefully palm a five pound note. The coins went into his pocket, but the fiver was slipped into the massive puffer jacket.

“Okay.” Kay finally slowed down. The police hadn’t bothered to chase them far. Archie leaned against a light post, trying to catch his breath. “We can get a bit of something with that. What do you want?”

“Cigarettes.” His pack was almost empty, and he was really aching for one.

“Food.” Kay smiled.

“A sandwich then, but I need cigarettes.”

“Fine.”

Kay bought them a pair of cheese and onions from a Tesco corner shop, and a packet of Marlboro lights. Archie fished out the last cigarette from his old pack, threw that away, and lit up. God, that felt good. Kay was looking at him. “You don’t approve?”

“Nah,” He shook his head. “After what you’ve been through, I’m surprised you’re not doing anything harder.”

“Thank you.” He offered the pack, but Kay shook his head.

“I’m trying to save money.”

“Okay.” Clearly. What for?

They stopped only to pick up the tarp and sleeping bag under Westway, and made their way back up through Camden, and into Hampstead. It was getting dark, and Archie felt bone tired. “Where are we going?”

“This way.”

They wound their way through the side streets, quiet on a weekday evening. They crossed a train bridge, and Kay held up his hand to stop him. He looked right and left, making sure there were no cars or pedestrians. He beckoned Archie over. Archie shuffled over, “Don’t make a noise.” He whispered, and bent down, offering his hands for a boost.

Archie glanced to the side, there was a high concrete wall, and trees on the other side. He nodded, and put his foot in Kay’s hand.

Kay lifted him like he weighted nothing. Archie gritted his teeth, grappling with the top of the wall. He pulled himself up, got his leg over and fell unceremoniously on the far side.

He landed in a mass of greenery, and rolled off. Kay grunted, grabbing the top of the wall and heaving himself up. He jumped down on the far side.

It was much darker here, away from the streetlights. A train rattled past nearby, and Kay beckoned him. Archie got to his feet, and followed.

They ducked through overgrown rubble, strands of trees. “It’s pretty overgrown, and I don’t think anyone’s found this place yet, so it’s just us.”

“Thank you. You’re a lot better at this than I am.”

“I’m not going to do this all my life.” His voice was harsh.

“I don’t want to either.” Although he could not imagine how he could get out.

“Good.”

They reached a wall of solid knotweed. Kay carefully pushed the strands aside, not breaking any, nodded for Archie to go first.

It was only then that it occurred to Archie that if he wanted to, Kay could probably murder him and no one would ever know. He could even throw his body on the train tracks and make it look like an accident.

It wasn’t remotely frightening. In fact, it was worryingly lovely. It could almost be romantic, in the quiet of the evening, among all these growing things. It would be a sweet place to die.

Stop. Archie stepped through. Lord, he was a mess.

Kay didn’t try and murder him, just following him and letting the strands close behind them.

There was a small clearing, ringed in knotweed. Kay had laid down a thick tarp, and had a small tent pitched and covered in leaves. “Here.” Kay threw down the spare sleeping bag from Westway, “You can have this one, I think there should be space in the tent.”

“Thank you.” Archie sat down on the tarp. Kay sat down beside him. “Do you have any rules?” He’d learned something from the debacle at Epping.

“No fires.” Kay sighed. “It’s not great but there’s houses over there. Be careful with the cigarettes, I guess, there’s a lot of dead wood.”

“I’ll smoke when we’re elsewhere then.”

“There’s kids who play around here, but they leave us alone. Probably best not to go to much further through, they have a treehouse in there.”

“That’s not a problem.”

They sat together; Kay unzipped the tent, “I’ve got some books from a library box. But- tomorrow morning I guess. I don’t like wasting money on torch batteries.”

“That’s fair.” Archie looked over at the little pile, hungrily. It reminded him of the happy few weeks he had been hunkered down in Walthamstow, sitting out the mornings in the local library. Until he’d been banned from there, of course. “Can I sleep?” He tried to hold back a yawn.

“Go ahead.”

Archie rolled out the sleeping bag on the corner of the tent, trying to take up as little space as possible. He pulled his hood over his head for extra warmth, and struggled his way inside. It was a little damp, and smelled of wet dog, but he buried his face in his hoodie to block that out. Beside him, he heard Kay grunt as he undid his own sleeping bag, climbing in and lying down beside Archie.

It was a bit of a squeeze, but the benefit was that when Kay zipped up the tent flap, the place began to warm almost at once, until Archie pulled back his hood, the sensation of delicious heat working through him, easing the many, many aches in his worn and battered body. He flexed his hands, tucked his arm under his head.

“Here.” Kay passed him a plastic bag full of clothes. “Put your head on that.”

“Thank you.”

“Go to sleep, we need to be up early.”

For what? But then, he’d find out tomorrow. He couldn’t wait. Archie closed his eyes and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

“Come on.”

Kay helped him back over the wall, and they hurried down the darkened streets. Archie hadn’t had a phone for- well, that he could remember so he couldn’t check the time, but it was so early that no one way around yet. The night was chill, and their breath lingered in the air, a fine layer of frost coating the trees, the windscreens of the cars they passed.

Kay led the way to a clustered of charity shops, closed and shuttered. “Quick, check these before anyone comes.”

Archie ducked down, opening the plastic bags of donations that had been left on the doorstep. “What am I looking for?”

“Clean clothes for you. Button down and slacks; try and find something that looks professional.”

Archie nodded. It took him two bags before he found something that might conceivably fit him, and he was pretty sure they once belonged to a young teenager. He did find what appeared to be jacket and matching trousers, probably a formal suit the child had grown out of. A bit baggy, but it would do. He found a decent shirt with a stain on the sleeve, but with the jacket on, it should hide it. “Done?”

“Yes.”

“Grab it and let’s go.”

And they were off again. The morning was dawning now, a pale grey just touching the east when Kay stopped at a darkened storefront, tucked away in the Kilburn backstreets. He tried the door, and it opened.

“Good morning, how can- oh, hello Kay.”

An exhausted looking woman was sitting at a front desk, her eyes shadowed, her brittle blonde hair hanging bedraggled around her face. She stifled a yawn, and took a mouthful from a very large mug, “Got a friend with you?”

“This is Archie.” Kay agreed, “He’s giving me a hand today.”

“Quick then,” She shooed them inside, “And make sure you clean up after yourselves.”

“Sure.”

It was a small and rather seedy looking gym. Archie thought he saw someone in the darkened machine room, but Kay didn’t pause, leading the way to the changing room. “Okay, March is going to cover for us, but we can’t take too long. Hurry up and wash, and get changed.”

Wash. It had been well over a week since Archie had the chance to wash- and even then that was just ducking into a public bathroom just after it opened and mopping himself down at the sink. He kicked off his boots, stripped off the first half dozen layers and stumbled into the shower.

“Wait, you’ve still got your clothes-“

Archie turned the tap on, and the force of the water almost knocked him over.

“-on.” Kay sighed. “Okay, fair enough. They need a wash almost as badly as you do.”

“Yes.” Archie grinned through a mouthful of his own hair. The water splattered at his feet, grey and brown and a very unpleasant yellow. Oh good Lord he was rank.

Kay chuckled, and turned away to take his own clothes off. They were somewhat more hygienic than Archie’s, but there was no way of staying actually clean on the streets. Particularly not with winter coming.

Beneath them, Kay was strong and rounded, powerful in arms and thighs, but with a softness around his belly that had Archie swallowing. It wasn’t lust, that part of his brain had never come back online- if it ever had been- but the sight set a deep and wonderful joy in Archie’s chest, blooming through him like a rising sun.

Kay had turned his back on Archie, his left arm tucked against his side- but Archie saw it. Those tell tale pock marks. But they looked old, he must not have been using recently. Kay glanced back, saw he’d seen and his mouth thinned. Archie met his eyes and smiled through the pouring water, it’s okay, I understand.

After a moment, Kay gave a jerky sort of nod, and turned back to his shower, washing himself quickly and efficiently. Archie tore his eyes off him and turned under the shower, making sure he was fully soaked, then took the last few layers off, stamping on them as they slopped to the tiled floor. Dirt and dried sweat and more he didn’t want to think about oozed out in deeply unpleasant colours. Finally, he was naked, and Archie turned his face to the jet of water. The pressure was wonderful, the heat blissful. He rolled his thin shoulders and finally scrubbed off the film of filth that seemed to constantly coat him.

There was a soap dispenser beside him, and he gathered some in his hand, lathering his hair until he couldn’t smell anything but crisp apple, and the bubbles flowed down his face, forcing him to close his eyes. He got more, and worked it into his knotted curls, and then down the rest of his body. He winced at the feeling of his bones, but he didn’t think that he had lost any more weight since the last time he’d been able to wash.

Then he scrubbed and scrubbed until his skin felt soft and swollen from the water, and his hair hung so heavy he wondered if he could hold his head up against the weight. Finally he let the water pour off him, trying to find new corner of himself to clean in order to spend just a few more moments in the shower.

“Come on.” Kay sounded equally reluctant. “We can’t stay all day-“

He broke off. Archie nodded, fumbling for the tap. He turned it off and wiped his eyes, stepping out of the shower. Kay handed him a towel wordlessly. He was staring at Archie.

Oh. Archie quickly wrapped himself in the towel. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you saying sorry for?” Kay quickly turned away, but- he’d seen. Archie sighed. “What happened to you?”

“I don’t know.” Archie sat on the changing room bench, drying his thin legs. Coated in more pock marks, deep ragged scars. More along his thin body, the stab mark a dull raised purple on his sunken chest, scars along his arms, the burn on his hand, the jagged cut across his throat, shiny burns all over.

“I suppose that makes sense.” Kay had pulled out a plastic bag, clean clothes folded inside. A white shirt and slacks, along with a blazer and thick turtleneck. And, of course, the black puffer jacket, wiped clean. “What do you think happened to you?”

Archie hesitated, finished drying himself. He took out the clothes he’d gotten from the charity shops, damn, he’d forgotten about underwear. He looked at the crumpled and sodden rags in the shower and sighed, he didn’t want to put those back on.

“Take these.” Kay handed him a pair. “They’re too small for me, they might fit you.”

They were, in fact, far too big. But the pants more or less fit after he’d added his old belt to it, and held them up. Kay lent him some deodorant, and he pulled his shirt on, and joined Kay at the sinks.

Kay was shaving, and offered Archie the razor. “No, thank you.” He tried to tidy his beard and hair at the mirror.

He looked- he looked almost as he had, before. When he’d recovered in the hospital, and was first released. The handful of times he’d managed to find a place at a shelter, and been able to wash. Like he might be human again, just for a while. He found the comb in his pocket, one of the few things he’d managed to salvage from the raid, and slowly worked it through his hair, working out the knots that seemed to appear within moments of getting them out. He combed his beard and- well, he would never look good, his face sunken, his skin scarred, but it was as good as he was going to get.

“Do you have any idea?” Kay asked again, as Archie buffed his boots as best he could, tucked them under the hem of his trousers.

“I’ve had nothing but time to wonder.” Archie said at last. “I have a few ideas, I suppose.”

Kay gathered up Archie’s clothes. “I’ll ask March to throw them in with today’s laundry. Hopefully when we get back, they’ll be done. Go on then.”

“I think I was a refugee.” Archie said as they walked back to the front desk.

March sighed at the armful of filthy laundry and waved for Kay to throw it in a hamper. “Go on. Good luck.”

“Thanks, I’ll see you later.” Kay pushed the door open, looked at Archie to continue.

“I’m not sure from where. Pakistan, perhaps, or Afghanistan. I look like I might be from there. I might have been a dissenter, or got on the wrong side of some very bad people.”

“You were tortured.” Kay whispered.

“It seems like the most likely option.” He pulled up his sleeve, looked at his thin, bony arm. Pocked all over with hollows. “These could be from cigarettes, and there’s the burn on my hand. Someone clearly tried to kill me.” He touched his throat, “And there are- a lot more things. I must have escaped though and made my way this far. Perhaps I paid someone to smuggle me into the UK.”

“That make sense, but-“ Kay gave him a sideways look, a slight smile on his lips. “Your accent.”

“I could studied in England? Or- I have heard that brain damage can change your accent. I read about a woman from Norway getting a concussion and speaking with a German accent afterwards. That was during World War Two, so it didn’t exactly make her popular. So I suppose I I got off lucky, really.”

“Yeah, going full RP doesn’t hurt too much. And- when you were stabbed?”

“I expect that was just bad luck.” Archie shrugged. “It was in an industrial estate in Oxford, and apparently someone else had been stabbed too. The police decided I must have interrupted a drug deal gone wrong, or some sort of gang dispute. The other man had been stabbed a lot more than I did. Whoever killed him must stabbed me too, and run away when someone interrupted them.”

“Oxford.” Kay looked away, face unreadable. “You’re sure?”

“I don’t remember, but that’s what the doctors and police said, when they came to interrogate me.”

Kay exhaled, closed his eyes for a moment. “Okay. I guess- that makes sense, I guess.”

“And it explains why I’m not in any databases.” Archie continued. “I probably came over in one of those small boats the Daily Mail is always screaming about.”

“Yeah.” That got him a smile, “Fuck the Mail. I’m glad you’re here.”

Oh. That sent a shock of joy through him, and all Archie could do was smile.

“Okay.” Kay set his shoulders, “Here we are.”

It was a temp staff recruitment office. Even now, when it was so early the streetlights were still on, there was a short queue of people already waiting. Archie hesitated.

“They don’t ask any questions.” Kay took his place at the back of the line.

They waited almost an hour for the doors to open, and Archie started shivering in the cold morning, starting to deeply miss the heavy weight of his old coat, as foul and stinking as it was. Kay looked at him, and sighed and put an arm around him, tucking him against his side.

Archie froze, then closed his eyes, leaning against Kay. He was soft, and so warm. He was utterly wonderful. Archie breathed in and enjoyed the scent of clean laundry from the soft turtleneck. He wondered who had been so stupid as to throw it out. But then, maybe they’d known it would end up here, with Kay, where it belonged.

The door opened, and Kay straightened, “Come on; let’s see what we can get.” Then, seeing Archie’s expression, and sighed, “Together, obviously.” He rubbed Archie’s back. “Don’t worry, just stick with me.”

The noise inside the small office made him tense, and it was almost impossible to keep up with what was going on. Archie could only press against Kay and try and nod at all the right moments as he talked to someone at a desk. A back and forth. The bored looking woman at the desk glanced at Archie, and Archie tried to stand straight, looking bright and eager for- whatever they were going to do.

As long as it was with Kay, he barely cared. His smile warmed, turned more real. The woman blinked in surprise, and seemed to focus a bit more. “I think I’ve got something, hold on.”

She printed something out, and handed two copies to Kay. “Get these stamped, come back, and we’ll have your payment.”

“Great. Where is it?”

“Earl’s Court.”

Kay sighed. “Fine.”

They stepped out. “What are we doing?”

“Catering.” Kay shrugged, “Some big party they want extra hands for, but don’t want to pay actual wages. You okay to haul trays of canapés around for an afternoon?”

“I can do that.”

“Better get going.” He put a hand on Archie’s shoulder, “It’s a long walk.”

It was a long walk, and a long day. Archie managed not to drop any trays, but mostly because the manager took one look at him and put him to work in the kitchen, washing dishes so none of the guests were forced to see him. Which was fine by Archie, but only that he was only able to snatch quick and desperate glances at Kay, while the other man hurried to and fro from the kitchen with the expected canapés.

But he always looked for Archie, and they shared a smile each time. When he started bringing the plates back, Archie managed to snag a small plastic bag, and started saving leftovers from the plates. Much like the people of Notting Hill, he was amazed by what people threw away. A whole chicken leg here, a few boiled and buttered potatoes there. A whole upper class version of a sausage roll, a cascade of chocolates as the petit fours came around. Archie actually found himself starting feeling hungry. It was a frail, uncertain sensation, as if his body wasn’t too sure about it yet, and didn’t want to push things, but it made Archie smile.

It was getting dark when they finished. Archie shoved the bag under his shirt, in the hollow of his stomach where it would hopefully not be seen. Kay noticed, and made sure Archie was carefully tucked out of sight behind him when the manager signed their papers. Then they hustled out quickly.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” Kay scolded half-heartedly, as they shared out the food on the walk back to Kilburn. “We need the money.”

“You can have my share.” Archie shrugged, and managed a chocolate. It was rich and heavy, melting into his mouth. It reminded him of- something. Something that had no taste but a deep and satisfying rush of fulfillment, that he had never been able to find again. He shrugged, and took another chocolate.

“Did you ever remember anything?” Kay asked suddenly, as they walked over Primrose Hill, the sun setting behind them, the London skyline touched in deep red, shining as the clouds closed around them. It would be a wet night, Archie worried. “From your past?”

“No, nothing.” Archie paused, but, why not? He’d already said so much. He dug a cigarette from his pocket, and lit it. “I don’t think I want to.”

“Yeah.” Kay smiled sadly, “I don’t suppose I’d want to remember all that either.”

They made their way back to the office just before closing time. Archie sat on a chair and dozed as Kay argued with the secretary- apparently the manager had tried to claim that since they’d come together, they should only be paid as one person. Finally, after a very terse phone call, Kay got their paycheck- one and a half people rather than two, silently fuming as they were hustled out.

“Bastards.” Kay hissed. “Fucking bastards!”

“Is there anything-“

“Of course not!” Kay threw the paper in a bin, shoved the money in his pocket. “Who can we complain to? The police? Like they’d give a shit, and they might deport you.” He closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath.

As if to seal the day, it started to rain. “Shit. Let’s get our clothes and go home before it really gets going.”

March was there when they got to the old gym. She had her head on the counter, quietly snoring. Archie held up a hand to forestall Kay, and slipped inside, padding soundlessly over to the counter. Their clothes were there, washed and neatly folded. Archie picked them up, and backed away just as quietly. March didn’t stir.

“Good.” Kay took his clothes, shoving them under his jumper to protect them from what was becoming a driving drizzle. “She’s there pretty much twenty-four seven, I don’t know how she does it.”

“You know her?”

“She got clean a while back, and managed to get herself a shitty bedsit in Morden. Hates it so much she stays at the gym, but it’s an address. And she didn’t forget about us.” He smiles, “So it’s a place to go, and she can do the laundry now and then.”

They hurried back to the campsite, and the rain came down harder. Kay was swearing as they pushed their way through the thickets, hunched to try and keep his clothes as dry as he could. The tent was still standing, sheltered by the trees, and Kay waved Archie to go in first, unzipping the tent in a rush, all but throwing Archie inside before ducking in and zipping it back up, panting wet and shivering inside.

It was awkward and uncomfortable, sitting in the too-small tent, wet and shivering miserably, trying to strip off their soaked clothes, while trying to keep their clean ones dry. But everything was damp, from the wet soaking in from outside, their own drenched bodies, even the moisture of their breaths was adding to it. Kay closed his eyes. “Shit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising.” Kay sighed, “We’ll manage. Hopefully it’ll stop tomorrow and we can dry these. If not-“ He groaned, “We’ll have to lug it all up to the vents outside the swimming pool, might take it all night.”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t bother you at all, does it?” Kay shook his head.

“No, I mean it does, just-“ Archie scrambled to make sense of it, “I- ah, I don’t remember anything but I think I remember the feeling of it. How bad it used to be.”

“And this is better?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even need to think. It had always been better. Even when he’d first been on the streets, lost and alone with no name, no past and no future- it had been better. And now he had a name. Now, he had Kay.

“Fine, I guess it beats getting tortured with cigarettes.” Archie flinched at the bitterness, but it wasn’t directed at him. Kay dug the money from his pockets. “Here, your share.”

Half of what they had made. “You should get the whole paycheck, I’ll take the half.” Archie didn’t touch it, hugged his knees. “It was your idea, and you did most of the work.”

Kay looked at him, for a long moment. Then he nodded, and shared it out again. Thirty pounds for Archie, just over fifty for Kay. But it was only when they both lay down inside the clammy sleeping bags that Archie heard what he was waiting for, the faint rustle of Kay slipping the banknotes into his puffer jacket.

What was it for? But then, there were so many questions in Archie’s life. And most of them he didn’t want answered. It was good to have something less painful to wonder about. He curled up, hoped the warmth of his body would start to dry out the sleeping bag, and tried to sleep.

And that was how things were, for a while. Archie marvelled at how many ways Kay had of making money. They took shifts at the temp agency. They begged on the streets. They scrounged from rich boroughs, snuck into waste sites and dumps to dig out scrap metal to sell by the pound.

And they scrimped and saved. They slept in the tent, shivering as the autumn wore on, began to darken towards winter. They scavenged their food when they could, and Kay seemed to begrudge every penny they spent, even while he badgered Archie to eat more.

“Is it anorexia?” Kay sighed, tried to push another cereal bar at Archie.

“It might have been,” Archie rolled his eyes, “How would I know?”

“You have to know why you’re not eating! What does your brain say?”

Archie looked at the cereal bar. Pulled off the wrapper and tried to eat it quickly, “That it’s not food.” He finished it, swallowed.

“Not food?”

Archie shrugged helplessly.

“What is food then?”

“I have no idea.”

“Maybe we could try different restaurants.” Kay got up from the bench, “See what your brain decides is food. It could tell us where you’re from, if we go to- I don’t know, a Turkmenistan restaurant and you’re like ‘that’s it!’ and eat the entire kitchen.”

“I wouldn’t do that.” Archie protested, “Our money-“ he broke off. Kay tensed. They hadn’t spoken of it. “I mean,” Archie mumbled, “We need- we don’t have-“

“Yeah.”

They walked in silence. He’d ruined it, Archie despaired. Weeks together and it had been so good, and now he had wrecked it.

But finally Kay sighed, “Anyway, how about camping outside White City tonight? It’s a longer walk to Notting Hill, but it’ll be warm by the swimming pool.”

The sleeping bags hadn’t been fully dry for weeks. “It’s a good idea.” He hesitated. “It’ll be shelter time too.”

“I know.” No, he would probably not want to risk it. Archie didn’t know how much money Kay must have stuffed in his jacket, but it had to be thousands. Sleeping in a shelter just wouldn’t be worth the danger of having it stolen. Kay turned back to him, and his eyes softened, “Not yet,” He relented, “Just a bit longer. We won’t get the best places, but we should still be able to find something before Christmas.”

So whatever he was planning, he must have almost enough. Archie smiled, and felt the tension relax between them. He got a smile back, and Kay took his arm. They walked together, and despite the rising cold and the drizzle that had sat over London for days unmoving, Archie felt warm and deeply happy.

There was a sharp wind that night, and they couldn’t use the sleeping bags while they were drying. Even after sleeping by the vents beside the swimming pool, Archie was shivering in the morning, his head heavy and dull. He rubbed his eyes, and tried to force himself fully awake. He didn’t want Kay to see him like this.

But he was slow today, and struggled to keep up with Kay. They got to Notting Hill late, and most of the best pickings were gone. Kay found a small stack of paperbacks, the covers already curling in the damp. He tucked them inside his coat to keep them dry. “Waste of time.” He sighed, “Let’s swing back via that Cricklewood bakery bin, and we can grab something to eat.”

Archie nodded. His throat was scratchy and raw, and he didn’t want to talk. He was struggling by the time they reach the bin, and starting to sneeze by the time they reached the road leading to their shelter. “Shit.” Kay sighed. He slowed his pace, and took his arm. “I think I’ve got some throat sweets at the tent.”

“Thanks.” Archie rasped. He was shivering, and just wanted to curl up in the sleeping bag beside Kay and go to sleep.

It was midday, and Kay looked up and down the street. They shuffled past the wall, hoping for a moment when there was no one in sight- but there was always a car going down the road, or people strolling along under umbrellas. Three times up and down, and Archie’s head was pounding. He felt awful.

“Fuck it.” Kay looked both ways, swore again, and pressed himself against the wall, as if he could blend into it. He held out his hands to boost Archie.

He was half way over the wall when the sirens sounded. Archie scrabbled at the top of the wall, throwing a leg over and collapsing heavily on the far side. Kay threw himself over, swearing as the police car rushed past them- and stopped.

They crouched against the wall, holding their breaths. A car door opened, the crunch of boots on wet pavement. A pause. Another pause. The sound of the door again, slamming closed. The car revving up and the sirens blaring out. Kay collapsed in relief, closing his eyes. “Shit.”

“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure what for.

“Come on.”

The world was wavering as they pushed through the shrubbery and knotweed, Archie stumbled, nearly lost his footing twice, until Kay caught him under the arm, and helped him along.

Archie could have cried when he saw the tent. Kay unrolled the sleeping bags, mercifully dried out after the previous night by the vents. Archie crawled into the tents and stripped off his damp and stinking clothes. Kay handed him a packet of wet wipes, and he cleaned himself as best he could. Put on a less filthy set of clothes and crawled inside the bag. “Kay?”

“Coming.”

Archie closed his eyes, relaxing in the growing warmth. He felt dizzy and was shivering, but the sounds of Kay nearby were comforting. He could hear the rustle of the puffer jacket, Kay mumbling something under his breath. Then, faintly, the crinkle of banknotes.

“Almost.” It was half lost as the rain began again, a patter of drizzle against the tarp of the tent.

The door opened and Kay crawled inside. He was smiling, warm and happier than Archie had seen him in a long time. He rummaged around and found a bag, “Here.” He handed Archie a throat sweet.

It eased the scratchy pain, although his head felt heavier than ever. Kay was sitting beside him, getting changed and taking his turn with the wet wipes. The heat of both of them in the tent made it stuffy and close, but warm. Archie poked his head out, and bumped against Kay’s thigh. It was soft and solid and perfect, and he was too tired to care, resting his head on it.

Kay’s breath hitched. “Sorry.” Archie mumbled, but didn’t move. He was sick, sick people deserved nice things.

“It’s okay.” Kay pulled on a jumper, tucking the precious puffer beside his sleeping bag. “Go to sleep. We won’t do anything tomorrow.”

“Thanks.” He closed his eyes, and, just as he was slipping away into sleep, thought he felt the light touch of a broad, warm hand in the rat’s tangle of his hair.

The shouting shocked Archie back to himself. He sat up, head still pounding, and swallowed against the raw feeling in his throat-

And the tent came down.

The pole hit Archie on the back of his head, canvas wrapping around him, blinding him. He freed a hand from the sleeping bag to push it away, and felt something heavy and hard crack into the back of his head.

He cried out, doubled over, and got a heavy kick to his back. There were shouts around him, jeers. “Move! Get up!”

Kay roared, fighting himself free from the sleeping bag. Archie reached for him, not sure what to do- and someone stamped hard on his leg. He cried out in pain, and was hit again, and again.

Blind, unable to hear anything but the incoherent shouts and the roaring in his ears, Archie managed to find the zipper, dragging it down so hard it broke. He squirmed out of the sleeping bag, groping inside the tent for Kay.

His hands closed on the crinkling fabric of the puffer jacket.

Another kick; and this one hit the back of his head. Archie rolled and the tent tore, sending him slipping out into the wet, freezing night.

Flashlights waved all over the piece of waste ground, and one blazed in Archie’s eyes. He covered his face, getting his arm up just in time as the torch was brought down hard against it- which would have caved his head in had it hit him.

Archie grabbed the jacket, tucking it against his ribs as the policeman tried to hit him again. A dog lunged at him, teeth white in the light of the torches. Archie kicked at it, only belatedly realizing that he wasn’t wearing his shoes. He looked around, trying to find them, and was hit again, hard on his left shoulder.

“Run!” Kay shouted. He had a tent pole and was lashing out, keeping the dogs back. “Go!”

No. Not without you. Never without you. Kay shoved him, and he was thrown away into the bushes. He turned back, dazed- but Kay was gone, running back towards the road. Archie gritted his teeth and clutched the jacket, running the other way as the police shouted and loosed the dogs.

He knew this. That was the strangest thing. He’d been here before. Not just in the last raid but- before. Archie dragged in a ragged breath as he ran; the barking dogs behind him, the wavering glare of the torched. His throat ached, that old scar. He could- almost remember. A dark wood, pain in his throat, that terrible, trembling helplessness-

Then he hit something. He staggered, blinked. There was a concrete wall in front of him. He heard the dogs coming closer and swore, throwing the jacket over the wall first, and grabbing the top, his thin arms trembling as he struggled to pull himself up. He threw his legs up just in time as teeth snapped and snarled below, barking and howling.

Archie fell hard onto his back. His body exploded with pain all over from the scratches and bruises. He could hear the dogs jumping on the other side of the wall, the shouts of the police. He crawled to his feet, found the jacket, and started to run.

His feet were bare on the pavement, and he was soon soaked through. He stumbled over the bridge, managing to hit a kind of stumbling run as he made it past rows of rain-washed houses. Ducking behind a hedge, he peered back down the road.

The police had gotten over the wall, but didn’t seem much interested in going much further. It had been like that in Hendon. After they’d smashed everything and ruined the tents, made sure the people who had so little would have even less- then they’d left. Arresting them would probably make for too much paperwork.

“Kay.” Archie mumbled. His lip was swelling and his head hurt worse than ever. He was slowing down, limping more heavily as it started making the long, slow circuit through the sports grounds and cemetery, back towards Finchley road. The sun was starting to rise behind bands of heavy cloud, turning the morning a slightly brighter grey.

He walked back slowly towards the main road, where Kay had run to. Looked up and down, hugging the jacket to his chest like a talisman. Please. Please please please.

The road was empty. There was a police car still parked outside, so maybe Kay had gotten away, and they were waiting to see if he’d come back? Archie huddled back behind a row of bushes, and backed away down the road.

Where would he go? He couldn’t lose Kay. He couldn’t. He tried to think, but his head was full of pounding pain and heavy No, no, that drowned everything else out. He turned, looking around helplessly. But he was alone. Alone, alone alone.

As he walked, there were more people on the street. They looked at him in distaste and alarm. His bruised face, torn clothes, lack of shoes. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. Kay, Kay where are you?

Where would he go? Lord, his head hurt. He stumbled, head swimming. Where-

The gym. He might go back there. The woman there, March. They’d been a few times, she knew Kay. If he wasn’t there, she’d know where he was. Archie nodded- regretting it at once as his head started hammering again, and turned into the back streets of Kilburn.

March stared at him as he pushed the door open. “Shit- Archie, right? Are you okay? Where’s Kay?”

“We were attacked.” Archie mumbled through his swollen lip. “Police. Did Kay come here?”

“No, shit.” She got up, came around the counter to Archie. “What happened to your shoes?”

“I didn’t have time to put them on.”

“Okay.” She took a breath. “The manager’s off today, so you can stay as long as you don’t get in the way. Use the disabled changing and get cleaned up; and you can stay in the back room. We might have some spare shoes in the lost and found. Hopefully Kay will come looking for you soon.”

“Thank you.” Archie whispered.

His hands were trembling as he washed the blood off at the sink. Kay. Kay. It had been weeks since he’d been alone, and without Kay the world felt like it was- folding in on him, like Kay was the tentpole holding up the universe and without it he was blind and fumbling, feeling his way through violence and pain.

He stumbled out, the puffer coat hanging limply around his shoulders. March waved him into the back room, and quickly closed the door behind him. Archie looked around at the mass of overflowing paper crammed in too many filing cabinets for such a small room- and felt bizarrely at home.

He found the lost and found box under a table, a stack of papers on top of that too. He picked through it gingerly. Nothing there was exactly clean, but it was better than he had on. He found a sweatshirt that was not impossibly too baggy; and a pair of ancient trainers far too large for his feet but better than nothing. He layered socks on until they were no longer threatening to fall off his feet, and tucked himself into a corner of the office, huddling into the puffer jacket. It crinkled when he moved, heavy with a lot more than foam filling. Archie closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Kay.

God, he knew this, a memory not in his brain, but locked in his bones. Sitting in an office, surrounded by paper, clutching at memories and aching with loss- he tasted long shed tears, his stomach gnawed with a hunger no food could satisfy.

He couldn’t stay. He had to move. He had to find Kay. If he didn’t find him he would disappear, fade away into the London mist and be gone forever, and Archie would never see him again-

March blinked as he pushed the door open, stumbling over the too-big shoes. “Look, you do know you’re not supposed to be out here, right? I need you to stay-“

“I have to find Kay.” He hugged the jacket. “If he comes, could you tell him I was here? I’ll be back in the evening.”

“Fine.” She huffed. “It would be easier if you just-“

He didn’t hear any more. He was out of the door, staggering into a run.

He didn’t know where he was going. His head was heavy and everything felt swollen and raw. He sneezed, shivered. Huddled in the heavy puffer jacket, and kept going. Kay. He had to find Kay, he had to-

He wasn’t sure how he got there, but he was walking along the embankment along Grosvener road, towards the Tate. The sky was heavy and grey, full morning, and buses and bicycles were barreling past, the height of rush hour London. Archie stumbled, and leaned against the river wall, catching his breath. He was freezing cold and dizzy.

And there, on Vauxhall Bridge-

It was too far away to be sure, but Archie knew anyway. He knew it, through and through. Kay.

He ran; nothing was real but that single, distant figure on the bridge. Kay wasn’t moving, hunched over the railing, looking down into the river. Blood pounded in his ears, his breath cut into his lungs. Somehow, he found the air. “Kay.”

At least, he thought that was what he shouted. He couldn’t hear it over the thumping in his ears, but his mouth hadn’t quite shaped the word right. Formed something else.

But Kay heard him. He looked up, face shadowed and eyes exhausted. Then they widened. “Archie!”

Was that what he said? Archie couldn’t hear, wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter because Kay lunged and the next moment, Archie was in his arms.

Oh, this was wonderful. This is true joy, utter bliss. Archie forgot his exhaustion, the ache that had set up in his bones, how badly his head was spinning. Kay was here, Kay was here. He hadn’t lost him. He would never lose him again.

“Thank God.” Kay breathed. “I was looking for you. I couldn’t find you anywhere. I was so scared they’d taken you.”

“No.” Archie snuggled in. “I got out, I went to see March, but you weren’t there.”

“Good.” He felt Kay relax against him, all that great bulk and Archie felt like he was the only thing holding him up. “That’s- that makes sense. I should have checked there. Thank God. Thank God.”

They stayed for a long moment, holding each other. Archie could have stayed there forever. But at last Kay released him, stepping back, wiping his eyes. Drew in a deep breath, and stopped in shock. His eyes wide. He touched Archie’s shoulder. “You saved it?”

Oh, the jacket. “Well, of course.” Archie took it off. “I know you- ah. I know.” He handed it back, awkwardly. “It’s important.”

Kay took it, looked down at it, and then let out a long, massive sigh, as if deflating from the effort of it. “I- okay. Thank you, I-“ he took off his own coat and put the jacket on, handed the coat to Archie. “Here, it’s cold. You-“ his head dropped. “Come on. Let’s go somewhere warm, you’re not well.”

Archie took his hand as they walked, and Kay entangled their fingers, held on tight.

They found a small café near Battersea Park, beside the power station. Kay pushed him firmly into a seat, and marched up to the counter, ordering two chai teas, with sandwiches and cakes. Archie blinked as Kay came back to their table, sitting beside him, looking determined. “Are you sure?” Archie whispered, “The money-“

“Shut up.” Kay pushed up his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I owe you an explanation.”

Oh, he was finally going to get answers. The sandwiches came but Archie didn’t even look at them, that deep and abiding hunger locked on Kay.

“So yeah.” Kay patted the jacket, “It’s full of money. About- ten grand at this point.”

He trailed off, clearly not sure how to continue. “What for?” Archie said, “A deposit?”

“No.” He sighed. The teas came, he drank. “A new identity.”

Archie blinked, this was not what he’d been expecting. “What for?” Kay hunched, his face twisted up. It was bad, whatever it was, it hurt him so much. “You- don’t have to tell me.” It was almost painful to say; to thwart that hunger inside him, but having Kay look like that was far worse.

“Yeah, I do.” Another drink, he stared miserably down into the cup. “I need one,” His voice was deliberately flat, “Because I’m a murderer.”

The words hit like a stone in a still pool, and Archie shuddered from the force of it. “Who?” He whispered through numb lips.

Kay shook his head. “I have no idea. I- did a lot of drugs back then. I think I was trying to forget. Did a great job of that, basically fried my brain. I can’t remember anything now- except the murder.” His mouth twisted. “Can’t remember anything before, just that moment of waking up- not far from here-“ He waved at the window, across the river. “Covered in fucking blood. I managed to get down to the river and wash, or pretty sure the police would have caught me.”

 It should have felt- something. He’d braced for it, but there was no satisfaction, the need just ebbed away to nothing. Archie quickly took a swallow from his tea, wondering what to say. How had Kay asked him? “What do you think happened?”

He got a weak smile. “I guess I must have been- muscle or something. I mean, look at me.” He waved at himself. “Maybe some gang, a deal that went wrong, or a fight. Maybe we got jumped- or jumped someone else. I don’t know.” He rubbed his face, drank more tea. “But I really don’t want to go to prison forever.”

“No.” It made sense. Archie reached over, and put a hand on his. “I don’t want that either.”

Kay looked at him, “It really doesn’t matter to you?”

Archie hesitated. “I don’t know what I did, before. Lord, I could have killed someone, for all I know.”

“You never killed anyone.” Kay smiled again, and it looked more real this time.

“I could have.” Archie insisted, and that smile widened. “But even if you did do it, you hate it. Perhaps it wasn’t murder. They might not have died, or you were defending yourself-“

“No.” Kay said flatly. “It was murder. I- know.”

Good God but did Archie understand that kind of knowing. He nodded. The moment stretched. The waiter came by with the cakes.

“Eat.” Kay waved at the sandwich. “Come on, I know you’re not hungry, but you haven’t eaten today.”

Archie sighed, and started chewing. “So, the ID?” He said between bites.

“Right. So since I couldn’t use my old identity- even if I could remember it, after all those fucking drugs- I got in touch with someone who could make a new one. It’s definitely not cheap, but it’s really the only option.”

Archie nodded, “And you’ve got enough now?”

Kay picked at his cake, he was smiling again, and it was a small, soft thing, tender as a butterfly. “I got enough a few days after I found you.”

What? “But, um, why-“

“Because I needed two.”

Oh. Archie blinked.

“I’m not staying here.” Kay said flatly, stabbed his cake viciously with his fork. “I- hate this fucking city, this fucking country. I’m getting out. When I have a new ID, a passport that works, I’m going- anywhere. Canada maybe; or Australia. And-“ he looked up, eyes meeting Archie’s.

There were so blue.

“I want you to come with me.”

“Where you go, I go.” Archie whispered. He wasn’t sure why he said it.

“That’s the deal.” Kay said fiercely. He squeezed Archie’s hand.

Archie couldn’t let go. His throat was full of his own heart, it hurt to breathe. His eyes prickled, he swallowed, “Kay.”

Kay seemed to come back to himself. “I mean, if you want to. I know it’s a lot, and you haven’t known me long, and- Christ, I just admitted-“

“I love you.” Archie whispered.

The silence stretched.

“I love you too.” Kay breathed. “I- God, I think, the moment I saw you-“

“Me too.” Archie hunched over the table, holding on to Kay’s hand with both of his. The joy filled him until he wondered if he was about to float off the ground. “Do you- believe in love at first sight?”

“Fuck no.” Kay half laughed. “Wasn’t sure I even believed in love, before I met you. But I do.” He squeezed Archie’s hands. “God, I love you.”

Another long moment.

“I’ll come with you.” Archie said; his voice hoarse. “You and me, together. Getting out of here.” If it was with Kay, he’d go anywhere.

Another moment, long, sweet, wonderful. Then Kay smiled, shifted forwards to close the last few inches between them, and kissed Archie, warm on the lips.

Archie wondered if he’d expected something to happen then. The sky to open or his memories to come back or the waters rise and sweep away the whole city around them- but nothing did. It was just a kiss, the most perfect kiss in the world, as he’d known it had to be, but still just a kiss.

They broke apart. Kay’s cheeks were flushed, and for the first time Archie noticed the band of freckles across his nose- he was normally so pale they were invisible. He loved them so much it hurt.

“What now?” Archie whispered.

“Now I see if I can borrow a phone here, and call the broker.” Kay’s jaw was set, determined. “See if she’ll take what I’ve got in exchange for two. Then we’ll go and meet her and see what she can do.” He looked at Archie and his forehead creased in concern. Archie wanted to smooth those lines away- then it occurred to him that he could, and tried to. “You’re ridiculous.” Kay smiled. “I want to try and get it done today, because once she’s got the money, we can go to a shelter. You’re not sleeping outside another night, you’re sick.”

“I’ve been worse.”

“Yeah, and you’re not going to be worse with me. Come over here.”

Archie gladly left his seat and snuggled in against Kay. Tucked against his side. Perfect. Kay pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “I love you.”

Archie struggled to finish off the meal as Kay went to the front desk and made the phone call to his broker. It took a long time, and Archie was toying with the last few bites of a cake that tasted of cardboard, when Kay came back. He was frowning again, worried. “How much is she asking for?”

“She thinks she can set us up with something but- it might not be enough.” He chewed his lip, then closed his eyes and drew in a breath.

“It’s a start.” Archie tried, stroking his arm. “We could take the something and work to get more later for an upgrade.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Kay looked so tired, suddenly. “God, I just want to be done with this.” He breathed. “I hate this so much. Just- existing, one day after the other. The fucking police and getting food from dustbins, and you sick and with winter here-“

“We can do it.” Somehow, together, he felt they could do anything.

“Let’s give it a go.” Kay lifted his head and took Archie’s hand. “She’ll meet us at six, in Hackney. We’ll need to get photos for IDs and passports. March told me she likes odd things, so maybe we can find her a present to get on her good side. And maybe find you some new shoes.” Kay added; looking at Archie’s feet. “Who did you get those from, the jolly green giant?”

It was in the third charity shop that Archie found it. It was tucked in with the dresses, but he knew what it was the moment his fingers touched the lace. He pulled it out, and shuddered. “Someone liked spiders.” Kay remarked, glancing at it from a display of skirts.

“Yes.” His skin itched. The shawl was a giant spiderweb, with little spiders stitched here and there. He could feel them crawling over him.

“Not a fan?” Kay took the shawl; Archie fought the urge to wipe his hand on his coat.

“Not really.”

“Oh well, I found a nice skirt there, hopefully she’ll like it.” He started to put the shawl away.

“No, stop.” He hesitated. He hated the thing, but- “It’s certainly unique.”

Kay glanced at it, then nodded, shoving it in his bag so Archie didn’t have to look at it. They paid for it, and the skirt, and headed out.

“This way.” Kay was paler than Archie had seen him; he was scared; Archie couldn’t remember ever seeing him that scared, even with the police, it made his stomach knot.

The route turned them away from the more gentrified parts of Hackney, up north towards Tottenham. The houses were more run down here, old warehouses and offices boarded up. Kay checked the note he’d written, glanced up at one old brick building. “This one.”

There was a narrow iron stair running up to a door on the side, around the first floor. They climbed up, and knocked.

There was the sound of a heavy deadbolt being drawn back, then silence.

“Well, that’s ominous.” Kay set his shoulders.

“Come into my parlour.” Archie mumbled.

“Not helping, Archie.”

The door opened into a dark corridor, then another door. It opened to an office, almost as dark as the corridor. The windows are boarded over, and there were only a handful of dull lamps. A heavy looking desk stood in the middle of the office, bookshelves behind. A woman sat in the chair behind the desk, regarding them coldly.

She was a little older than Kay, eyes shining in the dim light. Her dreadlocks were dyed white, in stark contrast to her dark skin. “Hello Kay.”

“Hey Anna.”

“Sit. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Archie.” Kay sat down on the stool in front of the desk, Archie sat beside him. “He needs one too.”

“Yeah, you said.” She looked them over again, fingers steepled.

“We, um, brought you something.” Archie held up a bag with their offerings.

“Too kind.” She smiled. It was a little too knowing, as if very aware of what they were trying, but she took the bag. “Yeah, I like that.” Looking at the skirt. “What the hell, I- oh.” She blinked at the shawl and for a moment, the hard lines of her face relaxed, and she ran her fingers over the strange knots of the spiderweb, found the little crocheted spiders in the corners. “That’s- Belle! Come and see what we’ve got for you!”

There was a shuffling in the back, and a door beside the bookshelf opened. A woman who looked a great deal like Anna poked her head out. She looked younger, about the same age as Kay, dressed in the same jumble of second hand clothes, but her eyes were distant, and a network of scar tissue covered the side of her head.

“Look at this, Belle.” Anna held up the shawl. “Look what our friends got you.”

Those glazed eyes suddenly focused, and she snatched the shawl, holding it to her chest, stroking it. “That’s right.” Anna smiled. “What do we say to the nice men?”

She lifted her head, and looked at Archie. There was- something there. Did she know them? Archie prodded his useless memory, but of course nothing happened. He smiled uncertainly.

She grinned back, showing teeth that seemed far too sharp. “Arch-” the word was slow, laborious, her lips moved as she tried and failed for form the next syllable.

“That’s right.” Anna nodded. “He’s Archie, and that’s Kay. Can you say hi, Belle?”

“Hi.”

“Hello.” Archie and Kay chorused.

“I’m helping these nice men to be new people. Do you think you can find people they could be?”

She nodded hard, then wavered, holding a hand to her head. “Careful.” Anna scolded. “Don’t push yourself too much, you hear me?”

“K.” She scuttled away behind the door, closing it behind her.

Anna sat back, looking at them for a long moment. She sighed at last. “Okay, I might have been about to tell you to fuck off, but that’s more words than Belle’s spoken in a fortnight.”

“Is she your sister?” Archie glanced where she’d vanished.

“Yep. Fucking parents, just after I run away they decide to pop out another one, and they gave her the same name. A replacement I guess.” She dug out a packet of cigarettes, offered them the pack. Archie took one gratefully. “Poor kid didn’t have much better luck than I did, fuckers close to caved her head in at one point, and she ended up on the street. I found her, and hell no I’m not leaving her on her own. Beside, our name’s long enough for two.”

“Is she okay?” Kay leaned back, peering over to where Belle had vanished.

Anna wavered a hand. “Good days and bad days, she doesn’t talk much, and she’s a bit funny, but she’s my sister, all right. Loves spiders for some reason, so yeah, you made her day. Let’s see what she finds for you. She’s damn smart, even if not all the connections are there.”

They sat for a moment, Archie and Anna smoking. At last, the door opened again, and Belle reappeared holding two folders. She beamed toothily at Archie, and handed the folders to Anna. She was wearing the shawl around her shoulders, pinned in place with a rhinestone brooch in the shape of a spider.

“Thanks, sis.” Anna flicked opened the folders, glanced at Archie. Frowned, looked down. Looked up again. Put it aside and opened the other one, looked at Kay, down, and up again.

“Archi.” Belle grinned. He fingers tapped along the back of Anna’s chair. “Archi Archi Archi.”

“That’s my name?” Archie frowned.

“Don’t worry, she likes playing with sounds.” Anna closed the folder, and patted her sister’s shoulder. “Great work, sis.” Another beaming smile. “Yeah, I think I can work with this. They’re both dead?”

Belle nodded, grinning.

“No family to ask questions?”

She shook her head.

“Yeah.” She put the folders down. “Well, you boys had better brace for a run of shit luck, because you used it all up here.”

“You can help us?” Kay said softly.

“You made Belle happy, and these should be pretty easy work. Two IDs, and passports, for everything you’ve got.”

Kay handed the puffer jacket over wordlessly. Anna frowned at it, then took out a pocket knife, and slit open the lining. Banknotes poured out. Anna chuckled. “Nice hiding place. Photos? Ah, great. Go on, come back in three weeks and I should have you both sorted.”

“Right.” Kay looked dazed. “Thank you.”

“Damn right thank you. I should be considered for sainthood after this. Go on, fuck off both of you.”

“I’ll bring you some cigarettes next time.” Archie said as they got up.

“Make sure you do. Silk Cut. Say bye, Belle.”

Archie looked at Belle. She was still smiling, “Bye.”

She blinked, and in the moment before her eyes closed, there seemed to be more than two eyes behind her lids. Then she waved, shuffling to stand beside her sister’s chair.

“Goodbye.” Archie said softly as he backed towards the door, unable to shake the feeling that if they turned their back on her, the next thing they would know would be fangs in their necks. Kay nodded, looking a little too dazed to speak. Archie took his hand and pulled him away.

“Right.” Kay took a deep breath as they stepped out into the late evening. “Fuck.”

“Are you alright?” Archie pressed against him. It was getting cold, and he was starting to feel very tired. His head was pounding again.

“I’m fine.” Kay rubbed his face. “It’s just been- a hell of a day. Let’s find somewhere to crash for tonight.”

Archie hesitated. “We’re not far from Epping-“

“No, fuck those guys, and I’m not having you sleeping outside.” He thought it over, and sighed. “It’s too late for a shelter; let’s see if we can borrow a sleeping bag in Stratford. It’ll be inside at least, and we can find something better tomorrow.” Kay took his hand, and they set off. He did look better, without the burden of the money. He stood straighter, shoulders less drawn up.

“Do you think we can trust her?” Archie ventured, “Anna?”

“As much as anyone. A few people I know went to her, and she provided. We’ll see.”

Archie nodded, and shivered as the rain started again. Kay reached out, and pulled him closer, tucking Archie in beside him as they walked. Archie closed his eyes. Lord, but he was exhausted, and his head was spinning. Kay pressed a kiss to the side of his head, and Archie let himself be guided through the rain.

The old Stratford shopping centre was already full by the time they arrived. A small shanty town was being set up along the walls, by the shuttered shops. Kay kept Archie close by him as they walked through, looking around carefully to see who was around.

Finally he walked over to an older woman with dark hair and a tattered dress that might once have been red. She was sitting in a Buddha stance under a sort of tent made of tarp and an old shopping cart. Her eyes were closed, breathing in and out deeply. After a few moments, she opened her eyes and gave a slow smile. “Hello Kay.”

“Hey Pren.”

“Sit.” She speech was slow, slightly slurred. “You have a friend?”

“My boyfriend.” Kay said softly. “This is Archie.”

“I can see.” She rocked backwards and forwards, “Your auras compliment each other. You are together in all things, twins of the universe.”

Archie blinked, opened his mouth- but Kay stepped on his foot, shaking his head with a sharp look. “We got raided.” Kay sat down on the scraps of carpet the woman had piled on the cold floor. Archie huddled up next to him, shivering again. They were out of the wind, but he couldn’t seem to get warm. “Lost- pretty much everything, and Archie’s coming down with a cold. Could we stay for the night? I’ll try and get something better tomorrow.”

“Not a shelter.” She continued rocking. “They will drain you to husks, and devour you from within.”

“I know. Can we borrow a sleeping bag?”

“Yours.” She smiled sweetly, eyes closed again. “All of ours, all of yours.”

Kay found an old sleeping bag. It stank and Archie grimaced at the thought of getting into it, but Kay scowled at him until he gave in and crawled inside. It was damp and clammy and he thought he felt something moving in there. But it was warm, and got warmer still when Kay climbed in beside him.

“I know.” Kay whispered. “But Pren’s okay if you get her in a good mood. Hopefully it’ll last until tomorrow.”

“The cornucopia of plenty.” She passed them a greasy packet. It held a half finished fish and chips. “Feast upon the bounty.”

“Thanks.”

Archie accepted a handful of revolting chips after a lot of prodding, finally ducking his head into the foul sleeping bag, escaping a piece of fish. “Yeah.” Kay said after a moment, “Good call. That was- yeah, yeah, it’s your fish. Not arguing.” He pushed it away, and Archie thought it saw something wriggle away from the packet. He grimaced, then sneezed.

But then Kay was burying in beside him, and arms were coming up, bracketing Archie and cutting out the world. And he was so warm, like cuddling up against a massive hot water bottle. It was even enough to start thawing the knot of ice that seemed to have formed inside him. Archie could cry.

Pren started humming, low and oddly soothing. “A healing frequency,” she murmured, “To revitalise the body and soul. Rest, child.”

Kay kissed the back of his neck. Archie closed his eyes, glad at least that with his nose clogged as it was, he might be spared the worst of the smell.
 

They were able to use the bathrooms before heading out, which was good because they must absolutely reek. Archie picked at his shirt and jacket wretchedly, oh Lord, were those fleas? They had definitely not been alone in that sleeping bag. He blew his nose, and stuffed spare toilet paper inside his pockets for later. His head still felt heavy, and the moment they had climbed out of that godawful sleeping bag, the cold had returned to his bones with a vengeance.

Pren hadn’t moved all evening, just nodded when Archie refilled her water bottle and brought it back. “I will not stay here another night.” She mused, opening her eyes and looking at the ceiling. “We are not alone.”

Archie glanced up, and shivered when he saw a camera. It was ancient and had probably only been for show even when it was first installed, but-

“In the land of the all seeing, the blind is queen.” Pren nodded.

“I don’t think that’s how it-“ Archie coughed, his throat rasping on the words. God, he really was getting sick.

Another hum.

Kay came back, looking pleased, and a little more of the tension was gone from his shoulders. “I got us somewhere. A little squat in Edmonton, nothing official, but they’ve got a spare room for us. I went there once and they’re a bit light fingered, but safe otherwise.”

“Okay. It isn’t as if we have anything to steal any more.” Archie stifled a yawn. His throat hurt, and there was a heaviness behind his eyes that the night’s sleep seemed to have only exacerbated. “Do they have a shower?”

“Bathing strips away the natural oils.” Pren scolded, “Cutting you off from the reverberations of the universe.”

“That explains a lot.” Archie mumbled, but Kay nudged him.

Pren didn’t seem to have noticed, going back to humming. “I don’t have anything to pay you right now.” Kay said, pulling Archie up, “But I will when I do.”

“Money is the root of all evil.”

“It’ll bring you fruit.”

“Peaches.”

Kay stiffened, then shook himself. “Yeah, sure.”

They stepped out into the early morning. The rain was heavy this morning, and Kay sagged at the sight. “Okay,” He drew in a deep breath. “Last push, we’re almost there.”

He looked worn too, bags under his eyes. Oh no. “Are you sick too?” He shouldn’t have gotten so close; he shouldn’t have kissed him. Archie was about to say more, but the chill air stuck in his throat and he coughed hard. His throat felt raw.

“No, just tired.” Kay closed his eyes, “It’s been a lot. Come on, I heard they have a washing machine.”

It was a long, long walk through Tottenham. Archie hadn’t spent much time there, it was pretty rough even for East London, and even with the comforting bulk of Kay beside him, he found himself glancing around as they cut down alleyways and through waste grounds.

Not that it made much of a difference. He was soaked through and shaking so hard his teeth were chattering. The cough was back, and dark spots swam in the corners of his vision. He’d been sick that badly once, he recalled vaguely, two years ago, during his first winter on the street. He’d ended up back in hospital with borderline pneumonia.

He wasn’t sure how long it took, the rain hadn’t let up and the sky was a uniform grey, faint streamers of low hanging cloud touching the tops of the taller buildings, but at last they reached a row of run down terraced houses. Kay checked each one carefully, counting them since few still had door numbers. Finally they walked up a dirt path into an overgrown garden, and Kay banged on the door.

A pause. Archie tried to press himself as best he could into the shelter of the front door, as much out of the wind as possible. There were footsteps on the far side, and a low voice. “What?”

“It’s Kay,” he banged again, “Come on! It’s freezing out here and we’re soaked.”

The door cracked open. “Who’s with you?”

“My boyfriend, come on! We talked about it over the phone.”

“If you talked on the phone, then you know the password.”

“I talked to you!”

“I need to hear it to let you in.”

“For fuck’s-“ Kay closed his eyes, took a deep breath. “’Landlords will be guillotined.’”

“Every landlord will be guillotined.” Whoever it was opened the door a crack more, as far as the deadlock let it, and looked at the pair of them, shivering on the doorstep. “Okay, come on in.”

The heavyset women opened the door, and they surged in, dripping on the stained linoleum. “Just as well Jorge isn’t here, he wouldn’t have been happy to see you.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Kay wiped his glasses. “Finally stole from one of you, did he?”

“That wasn’t proven.” Her nose wrinkled, “Where have you been? You both stink.”

“It’s not like we had anywhere to wash.”

“Right, go upstairs and get you both into the shower. We should still have some hot water left. I’ll see what we’ve got for spare clothes.”

The stairs creaked loudly under even Archie’s slight weight. He wavered and almost lost his balance as his head swam suddenly, but Kay steadied him. They got to the top and Kay opened a door beside the stairwell, leading into a cramped bathroom, dim light filtering through the papered over window. He tried to get undressed, but his hands were so numb and the world wavered in and out uncertainly, so he sat down on the toilet as Kay got undressed, kicking his clothes into a corner.

Then there were Kay’s arms around him, undressing him, helping him into the shower. The water pounded down but Archie’s head was pounding so loudly it was hard to think. He closed his eyes and just let the water run over him, letting Kay clean them both off. The water was lukewarm at best by the time Kay helped him out, Archie shivered and huddled into the worn towel, scrubbing his hair. Everything smelled blissfully of lime and coconut.

The woman must have gone by, because there was a little stash of clothes by the door. Two shirts, sweatpants, underwear and socks. Archie pulled a set on- the shirt was so baggy he was swimming in it, he had to pull the drawstrings of the pants so tight they almost doubled up. Kay scowled at his set, the shirt fit okay, and the underwear, but the pants were far too small, he tossed them aside with a sigh. “Never mind, I don’t need pants to sleep. Come on.”

Their room was just across from the bathroom. It was tiny, with a small window looking out over the road. Most of the room was taken up by a twin bed, covered with an old duvet and faded sheets. Archie blinked at it, when had he last slept in a bed? He- couldn’t remember. Since the hospital? No, he’d stayed in a shelter for a while but- oh, who cared, his head hurt too much.

Kay turned down the bedclothes, and nudged Archie. He didn’t need more encouragement, and rolled into it, curling up under the duvet. It felt- wonderful. The old mattress was covered by several old blankets, and it was wonderfully soft. Kay slid in beside him, and pulled the blankets over them. Archie snuggled in, and Kay put his arms around him.

Archie smiled, looking up at him. Kay had taken off his glasses, and his eyes were soft. His face relaxed, and he closed his eyes, tucking Archie in beside him. The world seemed to glow, the faint winter sunlight filtering through the window. They were warm, they were clean. They were safe and there was nowhere they needed to be. Nothing they needed to do. The world burnished in perfection. Archie snuggled in, tucked his head in the crook of Kay’s neck, and closed his raw eyes.

Kay kissed his forehead. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Archie mumbled happily.

They snuggled in, the hollow of their bodies in the bed warmed quickly, and Archie ducked down under his blankets, relishing the slow toasty heat.

“When were you last in a bed?” He yawned.

“Probably here.” Kay sighed, stroking his hair. “It’s a mess though, and I couldn’t save anything. It wasn’t just Jorge, it can get pretty toxic.” Archie looked up, frowning. Kay sighed, “Never mind, it’ll be okay for the winter. Just keep your head down and be boring. Talk about- I don’t know, goldfish breeding or something.”

“Goldfish are quite interesting.” Archie smiled.

“Yeah, I’d love to hear about them when you’re better.” He kissed Archie again. “Stick to animals, they can’t get too upset about that. If you try telling them about taxes they’ll start ranting about the bourgeoisie.”

“Yes.” He closed his eyes. His head was still sore, his nose stuffed up and his bones aching- but it was starting to feel like it might be okay.

“Archie?” Kay’s voice came some unknown time later. Archie opened his gritty eyes, frowned. Kay was staring up at the ceiling.

“What is it?”

“I just-“ A paused, Kay took a deep breath. “Shit.”

“What?”

“When- when you got stabbed.” Pause. “Could- is it possible-“ pause.

“What?” Sleep was close; he really wanted to close his eyes and just go away for a while.

“Did I do it?”

Archie shook his head, what? “No, of course not.” He shook his head. He really wanted to sleep.

“But-“

“It isn’t possible. You were in London, I was in Oxford. Unless you took the bus with blood everywhere.”

“No. The blood was still- I mean, no.”

“There, then.” Archie closed his eyes.

“It just feels-“ Kay whispered, “Just- when I first met you-“

He wasn’t going to get any sleep. “Kay, if you stabbed me, I don’t care. If you did it, you probably had a good reason. I forgive you. Now can I please sleep?”

Kay went still beside him, as if he’d been shocked. “Oh.” He whispered. “Yeah. Okay. Thank you.”

“Sleep.”

“Sorry. Go to sleep. Love you.”

Archie smiled, curled up against him, and slipped away into a deep sleep.

Time went a bit foggy after that. He must have been sicker that he’d realised- or maybe he’d managed to hold the worst of it off until they were safe, and now it was all hitting him at once.

He stayed in bed most of the day, except for the occasional lurching shuffle to the bathroom to relieve himself and have Kay help him wash. Kay brought him food, bowls of soup with toast. Archie tried to eat, forcing down food that felt even more inedible than usual, before collapsing into the bed and going to sleep again. Then he’d wake some uncertain time again, and on things went.

Then, one morning he woke up, felt sore and tired and drained- but his head was clear, he was breathing more easily and the weariness was worn and warm. He was feeling much better, was finally on the mend.

He was also alone in bed.

Archie rolled out of bed, sat up with his feet on the floor. He was wearing a pair of underpants, but his clothes were folded on a chair beside the bed. He got up slowly, steadying himself against the wall. He picked through his clothes, they were his old ones, worn and stained, but washed and cleaned. Archie pulled them on, and pushed open the door.

He padded down the stairs, and looked into the kitchen at the back of the house. The big woman was sitting at the kitchen table, with her phone on, broadcasting to a portable speaker. She was nursing a cup of coffee, and had her feet up beside a plate covered in bread crusts. She looked up when Archie came in, and smiled. “Hey, Archie, right?” She kicked a chair out for him.

“Yes.” He sat down, looking around.

“Coffee?”

“Ah- no. Tea please.”

“Help yourself.”

Archie nodded, put the kettle on. Checking the cupboards turned up a packet of English breakfast, and a cluster of mugs. The woman watched him curiously. “So, you and Kay, right?”

“Yes.” He glanced at her, warily. “I didn’t get your name?”

“Heidi.”

“I see. Yes, Kay and I.”

“How did that happen?” She took a drag of her coffee. “I’ve known him for a while and that guy is the coldest fish I’ve ever met.”

Archie narrowed his eyes. “He’s wonderful. I love him.”

She looked at her for a long moment, then rolled her eyes. “Whatever, you’re his type, I guess.” She leaned over and punched something into her phone. “Now be quiet, there’s a new episode.”

Hello and welcome to another episode of Sheeple Chase, the podcast that sorts the cons from the conspiracies.

Archie frowned, he knew that voice. Something in the back of his mind was ringing out that it was familiar; but when he reached for it- it was gone.

I'm Georgie Barker.

And I'm Celia Ripley.

“What is this?” He turned to Heidi.

“Sheeple Chase. Best podcast, at least before Georgie decided to bring on that scab Celia. Bet she was forced to do it, getting too close to the truth. Now shut up.”

So, let's start with the big news.

Ooh, how was Captain Barker's big haircut?

Did she have a good time?

Oh, she was very brave.

The episode was almost finished by the time Kay came in. He started in surprise when he saw Archie out of bed, and smiled happily. Archie smiled back, got up and was rewarded in a warm hug. A kiss. The world just this side of perfect. “How are you?” Kay whispered.

“Better. I believe I’m over the worst of it, at least.”

“Good.” He gave Archie one last hug, and stepped over to the kettle, starting to make two cups of tea. Archie smiled, rinsed his mug out as Heidi loaded up another episode.

“I could swear I know her.” Archie said as Kay joined them at the table, setting a fresh cup of tea in front of Archie.

“I know what you mean.” Kay shrugged, “I think she just has one of those voices.”

“Hush.” Heidi scowled.

Archie sipped his tea and oh. Oh. He’d known Kay was perfect, but this just reinforced it. Had he ever had such a perfect cup of tea? Well, he wouldn’t know, but Archie was quite sure he’d somehow remember if he had. He shifted his chair close to Kay, the feet scraping on the uneven linoleum, and Kay put an arm around him.

It was wonderful. He closed his eyes, leaned against his boyfriend, and listened to the drone of voices around him. Familiar, but impossible to place, like wisps of smoke that wafted through his fingers if he reached for them. He didn’t try, falling into a soft doze, the peace of the moment sinking into his tired bones.

Archie hadn’t really done Christmas that he could remember. Obviously any before were long gone, and for the past two years living on the street meant he often lost track of the days. He usually realised belatedly when the streets suddenly emptied for Christmas Day.

This year, Kay was obviously determined to make it something. Heidi had snapped something about the opium of the masses and mindless over consumption, but Kay and Archie had managed to hold onto a few tenners from temp work, and had picked up a few good pickings from the Lidl discount section.

Kay put the food away, Archie having made a heroic effort and finished something approaching a normal meal. Then he leaned off the bed, and reemerged with a little wrapped box. Oh. Archie gave a small smile, and his hand tightened on his own offering, tucked under the pillow.

They exchanged, and looked a little uncomfortably at the wrapped presents. Kay broke first, carefully unwrapping it. Archie looked at him carefully, heart in his mouth- but Kay’s face cleared, and his gave a soft bark of laughter, pulling out the new puffer jacket.

“I wanted one from Canada,” Archie pointed out before he could stop himself, “It has a moose, and you said you wanted to go there. I hope we don’t end up in Australia though-” Kay mercifully kissed him to shut him up.

“Now you.”

It was a cardboard box, something heavy inside. Archie opened it carefully, trying to school his face to happiness, whatever was inside.

Oh. His eyes when wide, and he pulled out a pair of solid new walking boots. New. Tough and waterproof, the soles thick and without so much as a scratch. He smiled. “For Canada?”

“It does seem to have some good job options.” Kay sat beside him on the bed. “But it’ll depend on what Anna comes up with for us. I don’t know what qualifications we’ll be supposed to have.”

“I’d like it, I think” Archie pulled him over to sit beside him, backs against the headboard. “It’s beautiful up there.” His mind flicked with half formed images of a cottage in autumn, tucked away in rolling hills and forests, cows-

“Cold though.” Kay’s protest was half-hearted, he played with the puffer jacket. Did he like it? It was only second hand- Kay must have seen his face because he huffed and kissed Archie. “I love it.”

They’d had enough to buy a second hand mobile phone and it was playing Christmas songs from YouTube. A slow one came on, and Archie saw Kay’s face grow soft, a little smile on his face. He liked this one. Archie got up, bare feet on the boards. “Come on.”

Kay looked at him, his outstretched hand. “Seriously?”

“No one’s watching.”

Kay got up, and put his arms around him. There was barely enough space in the room to walk around the bed, so the slow dance was more of a slow shuffling hug. Archie buried his face in Kay’s jumper, breathing the smell of him. Resting his hands on his back, feeling his weight shift, the skin moving over the solid bulk of him. Kay’s own hands ran up to Archie’s shoulder, one cupping the back of his head.

The music washed around them, sweet and yearning. A song about missing someone, being alone at Christmas. Archie blinked, felt Kay’s breath hitch. “Kay?”

“Nothing.” He paused, wiped his eyes. “Just- I wish I’d met you sooner, you know?”

God, did he. “We’re here now.” He kissed Kay’s lower lip, then the corner of his mouth. Felt the sad smile under his lips.

“But what if we- weren’t?” Kay held him more tightly, as if afraid Archie might evaporate. “How often were we in the same place, and just never saw each other? If you hadn’t been at that soup kitchen-“

“Then it would have been somewhere else.” Archie said firmly. “There aren’t that many places in London for rough sleeping. We’d have bumped into each other eventually.”

“Still feels like a miracle that we got to be here.”

“Call it fate.” Archie smiled, kissed him again.

“Pff-“ But any more was cut off when the door opened.

Kay let go of him, turning to stand between Archie and the door. Heidi was in the doorway, scowling unimpressed at the presents on the bed. “You know this is just playing into consumerist-“

“I know.” Kay growled, “That’s why we’re having it up here, so as not to bother you.”

“You shouldn’t be having it at all.” She snorted, and thrust a letter and a small packet into Kay’s hands. “This came for you, and him.” She nodded at Archie.

“Who-“ But he knew. It was Anna’s loping writing on the letter. The writing on the package was a little more ragged, Archie wondered if it was Belle’s. It was his name on it, Archi scrawled in trailing letters. He took it, settling back on the bed. Kay closed the door firmly in Heidi’s face, and locked it. He was staring at the letter as if terrified of it.

Not sure what else to do, Archie opened the packet. Inside was a card. A childish scribble of a smiling spider. A red smudge on its head suggested a hat, and something heavy sank in Archie’s stomach. He opened the card, and a small lighter fell out. He picked it up, confused. It was old, battered, with so many scratches that the original spiderweb pattern on the metal was almost gone.

“Oh thank fuck.” Kay sat down hard on the bed. He was clutching the letter, and his hands were trembling. “It’s all sorted. We just need to go and pick them up. What have you got there?”

Archie shoved the card away. The grinning spider was making his skin crawl. “I think Belle decided that I love spiders.”

“Oh hell.” He smiled, and took the card and lighter. “Yeah, that’s creepy. It can go down the loo. I’ll leave the lighter on the kitchen table; we won’t see it again after that.”

“Thank you.” He felt better the moment the things were out of the room. He shivered, shaking off the worst of it, and took the letter from Anna.

Merry Christmas losers. Come by for Saint Anna’s presents before I change my mind. Archie smiled.

Kay came back, hands empty. “Yep, left it on the table to throw the card away, and when I got back it was gone.” He kissed Archie. “You okay?”

“Better.” He pulled Kay down to the bed. Kay hugged him, “You?”

“God yes.” He huffed into Archie’s hair. “It’s over. We’ll go over tomorrow, and we’ll be people again.”

“I wonder what kinds of names we’ll have.”

“Fucked if I care. She can tell me I’ll be Arse McButthole and I’ll thank her for it.”

In fact. Archie thought, looking down in dismay at the passport in front of him, Arse McButthole might actually be preferable. Kay had exactly the same expression, staring at his own passport with nothing short of horror.

“Oh, fuck this!” Anna snarled. “I go to all this work and get this? That’s fucking gratitude for you!” She reached over to take the folders back, but Kay quickly snatched them up. “Oh, so you do want them? Could have bloody well fooled me.”

“Sorry.” Archie whispered, “But-“

“But what?” She turned a withering glare at him. “A degree and a Masters not good enough for sir? Should I have gotten you a PHD as well?”

“No.” Anna was right, but what? It was perfect; He had a whole life in his hands, a name, a face, a history.

But-

It wasn’t that it wasn’t his. That was fine, he knew it wouldn’t be. But he looked at that ghastly passport photo of himself. That history. That name- His stomach clenched.

Belle was grinning at him. She was wearing a little red fascinator over the bandage on her head, and Archie couldn’t look at her without feeling a sickening swoop in his stomach. “It’s a bit- generic.” He said weakly.

“Which is good.” Anna glared. “It’s fucking fantastic, actually. There’s ten bazillion people with that name, no one is even going to bother trying to look you up on Facebook. What about you?” She turned that paint-stripping scorn on Kay. “Name not up to your high standards either, Mr High and Mighty Tosser?”

“It sounds like someone who makes scones.” Kay mumbled.

“You’re fucking welcome!”

“It’s great.” Archie said quickly. “They’re perfect, thank you so much. We just- it’s a bit of a shock.”

Her face softened a little, begrudgingly. “Okay, fine. Keep them, but don’t expect any more help, I don’t care how much Belle likes you. Go on, out. You’ve outstayed your welcome and me and my sister have a spider themed New Year’s party to get to.”

Archie shuddered. They grabbed their folders, and shuffled out of the room, Anna still glaring daggers after them. Belle waved and Archie lifted a hand, waving back while trying not to look at her for too long.

Then, they were outside. The night was biting, no snow, but their breath came in clouds, and frost was forming on the windscreens of the cars on the street. Kay took his hand, squeezed gently, and they headed off towards home.

“Was it so terrible?” Archie leaned against him.

“Have a look.” He pushed the passport towards him in disgust.

Archie scanned it, “It doesn’t seem to be too bad?” He hazarded.

“I guess not.” Kay huffed, another cloud of white. “I don’t know, I saw that name and I just thought- that’s the name of an absolute wet blanket loser, the worst kind of cringing people pleaser. Zero self respect.”

Archie looked down at the passport again. “I don’t see that. And look, the surname isn’t bad. It sounds Gothic.”

“It sounds like a bad guy in a Dickens novel.” Kay took the passport back. “Yes little Oliver Twist, I have stolen your inheritance and fucked your mother, mwahahaha.”

“I don’t think there was much sex in Dickens.” Kay was smiling now, at least.

“Probably not. Now go on.” He held out his free hand. “I showed you mine.”

Archie sighed, and handed it over. Kay read it. “Okay, I admit. That is one of the most generic names imaginable.”

“Change the surname to Smith and it would be.”

“It- does work a bit if you think about it.” He gave it back. “It’s very generic, and you’re- not. You balance each other out.”

“I prefer Archie.” Kay gave it to him and- when he looked at the name, he felt a swoop in his stomach. Like he had seen it before, and it boded nothing good.

“And I like Kay. We’ll say they’re our middle names. No one checks middle names, and plenty of people go by them.”

It was a relief. Archie put his passport in his pocket, and glanced over the folder of documents. Two diplomas from universities that had folded years ago, work history from companies that probably never existed. School grades that could not be traced. It felt like the ghost of a life.

“We’ll make it real.” Kay squeezed his hand; he must have seen his face. “Or- try to. Might have to ditch some of them, you know she gave me a Masters in parapsychology? Is that even a field you can get a degree in?”

It was so much easier to live when you actually existed. ID and an address, and so many doors opened. A bank account, debit cards, a sim card for their phone. They could go to the jobcenter to look for actual jobs- although they didn’t dare actually apply for assistance and risk their fragile personas to government scrutiny.

And at the library, building halfway believable CVs and applying online to jobs abroad. Australia, Canada, even a few jobs in India and South Africa. Most just went off into the ether and vanished, but they’d had a few emails back, asking for more details. “What am I supposed to say?” Archie looked up from his screen, “They’re asking me what someone with a Masters in historical research is doing applying for a job as a hotel receptionist.”

“New start.” Kay was frowning at his screen, typing. “Don’t go into detail, but hint that you want to start a new career. Did you put the temp work we did in your CV?”

“I think that’s the only reason why they called me back.” It sounded nice. Summer live-in staff for a hotel just outside Vancouver, and they offered a work permit. They’d need to find something for the winter, but they’d have six months saved up by then.

He tried to write his response. Read it over. Erased it. Tried again. Kay leaned over his shoulder and sighed. “Want me to write it for you?”

“Please.” He didn’t think I’ve been living on the streets for two years please give me a job, would go down well.

“Something something political situation.” Kay mumbled, “Economic woes, blah blah developing hostile atmosphere, etcetera.” He turned the screen back to Archie. “How is it?”

“Perfect. What if we get asked for a video call?”

Kay stroked his shoulder. “Then we have one. We can do it on the phone.”

“But-“ what will they think of what I look like? But he was- better, wasn’t he? Of course, the scars would be off putting, but sleeping under a roof and regular baths was doing wonders.

“Let’s see if we can scrape together enough for some concealer for you. They’ll just look like bad acne scars.”

“Right.” Archie sent the email, exhaled.

God, please. They needed this so badly. They’d found an eviction notice on the front door last week, and even though Heidi said it would take month before anything happened, it was a reminder that even here, it would be so easy to end up outside again. It was barely into January and the streets were icy with rain. By the look on Kay’s face he was thinking the same thing. “We’ll sort it.” He set his jaw. “I promise; we’re going to find a way.”

God, Archie loved him. He leaned back against him, and for a few moments, they could just- be. Warm, together. Snuggling in.

“We’re closing in fifteen minutes!”

Archie got up, held out his hand for Kay. He took it, and didn’t let go as they made their way to the doors. Outside, the rain was still falling heavily, more sleet than water. The beat of it on the roof made them both shiver. Kay squared his shoulders and they both braved the rain.

The house had another eviction notice on the front door. Kay growled something Archie couldn’t catch under his throat, tried to tear it off and rip it up, but the paper was so sodden it just fell to pieces when he picked it up. Archie hurried inside, shivering as he dripped puddles in the hallway. He was soaked through, and thank goodness they had this place, because he didn’t want to imagine what would happen if they were still outside.

“Kay and Archie?” Heidi’s voice came from the kitchen. “We’re having a meeting, get in.”

“We need to get changed.” Archie managed through chattering teeth.

“Hurry up.”

The kitchen was full. Heidi, a couple of graffiti artists who crashed with them on weekends, a pile of ambulatory hoodies who might be the mystery person who lived in the other spare room, and a teenager of indeterminate gender who’d moved into the attic last week. They looked nervous, and Archie gave them a reassuring smile.

“Right.” Heidi handed them mugs of tea. “Looks like that’s everyone. We’re not going to be able to stay here forever. I think it’s some kind of big conglomerate who are buying up this whole street, so the council’s very eager to get us out.”

“Fucking fat cats.” Came from the hoodies.

“I think that’s an insult to cats.” Archie mumbled.

“Yeah.” Heidi looked tired. “So, we need something new, probably further out, as usual. Whole city’s being turned into fucking theme park for billionaires.”

“Council housing again?” One of the graffiti artists put in, swigging from a hip flask.

“If we can get it.” Heidi looked at Archie. “That’s where you come in.”

“Wait, what?” Kay bristled. “You can’t just-“

“You’ve been squatting with us for months!” She rounded on Kay, and Kay actually took a step back. “Least you can do is pitch in! You think we don’t know what you think of us? Yeah, You’re all so high and fucking mighty and superior, but we’ve been keeping a roof over your head, so shut the fuck up and pull your weight for once!”

“It’s alright.” Archie put up a hand as Kay looked about to explode. “I can help. What do you want?”

“Someone small and kinda pathetic.” This time, it was Archie’s turn to bristle. “Yeah, whatever. Stuff your pride, that’s what you are. That’s good, we want someone to go around and say they’re doing a local survey, checking how many houses are council owned, or private owned. Once we’ve got a list, we can check which ones we can use.”

“And I’d be just knocking on doors?” It didn’t sound too bad, at least.

“Yeah, we’ve got a clipboard and high-vis jacket. You can get anywhere with those.”

“Or a bucket and a ladder,” The other graffiti artist added. The two chuckled.

“I can do it.” He looked over at Kay. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah.” His jaw worked. “I’ll go with you.”

“You’ll stay out of sight.” Heidi scowled. “The point is they open their door and see this little harmless Indian dude with a clipboard, not an angry ginger gorilla.”

“Fine.”

“When do we start?” Archie sighed. Hopefully it would take a few days for the hotel to get back to them, and they could get this out of the way.

“As soon as possible.” Heidi admitted; she was far more tired than she was letting on. “I ran into this pile of fascists before, and they play nasty. Best to be out of here before they decide their little anschluss isn’t happening fast enough.”

Archie woke with a start, heart hammering in his throat, he reached out to grab- something. He didn’t know what, but he was losing them. It was slipping through his hands and he would never find them again. His chest was a burning mass of pain-

And his hands found Kay’s sleep shirt.

It was almost a physical jolt, throwing him back into himself so hard he almost choked. Kay jerked up as he woke with a start, turned towards him. “Archie?” His voice was shaking.

Archie tried to say something, but he was shaking so hard his mouth struggled to work. He huddle against Kay, and felt big arms come up around him. His heart swelled in his chest until he wondered if it might burst. He closed his eyes and buried himself in Kay.

It was a little while before he realised Kay was crying. He was trying to hide it, but his breath was hitching, tiny jerks he could feel in his chest. Archie kissed his chest. “Kay?”

“Yeah.” his voice was rough. “I’m okay.”

Archie lifted his head, wiped the tears from his broad cheeks. A car passed outside, and the headlights briefly lit up Kay’s face, warm skin and freckles. Archie kissed him, and Kay made a soft little sound, like something raw breaking. It hurt to hear. It all hurt so much, and Archie never wanted it to end. He wanted it to hurt, it was almost unbearable and he needed it. He closed his eyes and he held Kay and Kay held him and his fingers were going numb with how hard he was holding on, and Kay was trying not to sob and failing, his fingers digging bruises into Archie’s thin shoulder and he was here and Archie was here and they were here and it was the only thing that could or would ever matter.

It was like a fit, a spasm of raw emotion they had no words for, could only cling to each other and try and ride it out as the waves of grief and pain washed over them. Until finally they began to ebb, and they could just- hold on, breathing heavily and raggedly, skin sweat slick, finally relaxing their hands from the death grip on each other.

“Shit.” Kay whispered.

“Yes.” Archie mumbled into his chest. He winced as Kay let go of him. Ow, that hurt.

But he was glad it hurt. He hoped it bruised. He hoped it scarred. He hoped he’d carry these marks- Kay’s marks, forever.

“Did- this happen to you before?” Kay whispered, wiping his face.

“Yes. Pretty often.” He reached over the side of the bed, found a roll of toilet paper. He pulled off a length and wiped his eyes, handed Kay some to blow his nose. “They used to be a lot worse, actually.”

“I- used to, too.” Kay shivered.

“It’s why it didn’t work out of Epping.” Archie snuggled back in, holding onto Kay again, but slightly less white knuckled. “They didn’t like being woken up by me screaming.”

“It’s why it was easier to go it alone.” Kay nodded, curling up around Archie.

“I don’t remember you having one before?”

“No, not-”

He didn’t need to say more. It hung between them, that knowledge.

Not since I found you.

He knew what that meant- no, that wasn’t right. He didn’t know, but he did know one thing. “No.”

A pause. Then Kay nodded. “No.” He agreed.

“It’s just a bad dream.”

“Yeah, probably surprising we don’t get more, honestly.”

“I suppose it’s because we have each other now, it’s a comfort.”

“Exactly. A comfort.” Kay kissed him. “And- having a proper bed, a home, and all that.”

“Naturally we’re doing better.”

“Right.”

“Right.”

A pause.

“But, if I did-“

“If you did, I told you, I forgive you. If you forgive me.”

Kay snorted wetly, “What for?”

“I don’t know.”

A pause. Then. “I forgive you.”

“Thank you.” And it- did feel better; something unknotting in his chest that had been in there for so long he no longer noticed it.

They lay together, quietly. Kay kissed him, Archie kissed back. Trading kisses, one to the other. Kay’s hands stroking up his back. Never more, thank goodness. They had never really spoken about it, but it seemed that too was something they shared. God, Archie loved him.

“It was today for you too, wasn’t it?” Kay whispered, so soft, as if afraid if he spoke too loud, the world would shatter.

Archie didn’t risk even that. He nodded minutely once, and felt Kay shiver. It was one thing he knew, the police statement had been well dated.

“Every year.” Kay whispered.

“No.” Archie shook his head. “That’s it, no more. Stop, please.”

A pause. Then Kay nodded. “I forgive you.” He repeated.

“I forgive you too.”

There would be no more sleep tonight, but they stayed like that, holding each other, breathing together, until the sun rose at long last, dull and blousy in the early January rain.

Archie lifted his hand, and knocked on the door. He was thankful for the hoodie roommate offering him a spare pair of gloves, because a lot of these houses did not have doorbells, and his knuckles would be raw by now. His feet were sore from walking all day even with his new boots, his arm stiff from holding the clipboard.  He affixed the apologetic smile on his face as the door unlocked and opened, conscious of Kay hovering just around the corner, in case Archie accidentally stumbled on- drug dealers, or a gathering of gangsters.

The tall man who opened the door looked like neither, although there was something of a smell of pot about him. He gave Archie a warm smile. “Oh, hello. Are you with the TV people? I know we were behind with the licensing fee, but I think we’re paid up now.”

“Oh ah, no. I’m doing a survey of the borough, seeing how many people are living in council housing?” It wasn’t actually a lie, technically the truth, which was just as well since Archie was no kind of liar. “Is this a council house?”

“I- not sure actually. Gee gee!” He called back into the house. “Is this a council house?”

“Do you think we could afford this privately?” A thin old lady shuffled into the hallway in carpet slippers. She scowled at Archie. “Who are you, boy? Are you with a council?”

“I- ah.” Archie scrambled. It would be so easy to just say yes, the word was in his mouth, his tongue shaping it- but he could not get it out. And the woman’s eyes bored into him, made him choke.

“Gee gee!” The man frowned at her. “Be nice, he’s just doing a survey.”

“Oh yes, who for?” She pushed past the man, peering at Archie. “Call the police.”

“Wait, what?” The man blinked.

“He’s scoping the place. Going to get his friends for a break in.” She gave a harsh laugh. “Not that we’ve got much! Want to get away with my books and your paintings-“

“No, wait!” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Kay getting ready to charge in. “I- no. I’m not from the council, but we’re not burglars. We-we’re looking for a place to stay.”

The old lady glanced over at Kay, then back at Archie. The man had his phone out, looking alarmed at the sight of Kay. She shook her head before he dialled, looked Archie up and down, and gave another laugh, more amused. “You’re squatters?”

“Yes.” He caught Kay’s eye, shook his head. Kay relaxed a bit.

“Not very good at this, are you?”

“Not really.”

“Well, better squatters than some of the people we’ve had.” She took Archie’s clipboard and looked over the map they’d printed of the neighbourhood. “You want to look at this one, that one, and that one. I think they’re still free. The council doesn’t give a crap, so you should be good for a while.”

“Gee gee.” The man put his phone away, hiding a smile.

“Oh hush.” She handed Archie his clipboard back. “Keep the music down, and don’t bother us or the cats, or you’ll discover there’s worse around here than real estate developers.”

The woman was barely taller than him, was razor thin and probably over seventy, but there was something in her eye that made Archie nod very quickly. He got a sharp smile in return. “Good boy. Off with you.” She turned, and stepped back inside.

Archie and the man looked at each other helplessly. “Good luck with the squatting?” He hazarded.

“Thank you.” They shared another, awkward moment, then Archie turned, heading back to Kay who was hovering on the edge of the lawn.

“Okay?”

“I think so. Don’t tell Heidi how that went.”

“No.” Jon glanced back, making sure the door was closed. “Let’s try somewhere else.”

“Are you sure? She said-“

“I’d sleep better if that woman didn’t know where we lived.”

It was absurd, but there was something in her eyes that made him run cold. And perhaps Kay had seen it too, because he chewed it over for a moment, then nodded. “Let’s try Barnet. It’s the middle of nowhere, but it’s on a tube line.”

Archie was about to log off the library computer. He’d miss this place, but there would be another one in Barnet. Heidi had ordered them out for the day of the move, they didn’t need them underfoot. The inbox suddenly pinged, and Archie froze.

It was the hotel in Vancouver. He held his breath, clicked.

Oh God. Oh Lord. Thank you. “Kay.”

Kay leaned over, saw his face. “What happened?”

“They want you to send them your CV.” Archie whispered. “They’re interested in me, and I said my boyfriend was also looking, and-“

It was very friendly. They wanted Kay’s CV, and if that checked out, then they wanted an interview with the two of them next week. “Do we have enough for tickets to Vancouver?”

“We’ll get the money.” Kay took a deep breath. “I don’t care if we have to take out a payday loan or something- we’re going. Anyway, we shouldn’t jinx it; we’re going to have to ace that fucking interview.”

He attached the CV, and sent it off. “Lord. Please.” He put his head on Kay’s shoulder.

Kay squeezed his shoulder. Then, “Come on.”

“Hmm?” But Kay had his hand, and Archie was too happy to follow.

Outside, the morning was pale and washed out, but there sun was just bright enough to warm them. Kay led them down the main street down towards the river. “Are we going to a job?” He hazarded, “Or mudlarking?” They’d done that once, it had been rather fun.

“No.” Kay squeezed his hand, leading them into the marshes. “Just wanted to spend a little time with you. It’s a nice day.”

“Oh.” He couldn’t even formulate an answer. His heart felt too full. They crossed the river, walked along the towpath. The sun was higher now, sinking into Archie’s thin body, feeling actually warm for the first time in month. The houseboats smoked away on the river, a few ducks braved the freezing water. A cluster of pigeons fluttered down, hopeful for crumbs. Archie checked his pockets and found half an uneaten energy bar.

“Any more of that and they’d fly halfway to Turkey.” Kay laughed as Archie crumbled the bar and threw it to the birds. They pecked enthusiastically.

“It’s where they came from, originally.” Archie sat down on a bench, throwing more crumbs. A few birds came almost close enough to touch- but when he reached out, they shied away. “Or where they were first domesticated, I heard.”

“Do you remember where you learned that?”

“No.” He shook out the last of the crumbs. “I must have loved to read about random things.”

“Yeah.” Kay put an arm around him. The touch soaked life and joy through him, as it always did. He curled up against him. “I’m glad you remember that.”

And not other things. Archie could not agree more.

“So?” Kay squeezed him gently, “Go on, I want to know more about pigeons. You’re adorable when you nerd out.”

“I am not adorable.” Archie curled against him, “But- to begin with, they’re absolutely useless at building nests-“

The interview went- about as well as it could have. The woman who ran the hotel was smiling and seemed pleased by both of them. Archie had stumbled several times under the questions, but Kay had been able to smoothly come in and ease things along. He’d seemed the perfect employee, smiling and bright and eager. Archie could only hope he’d managed to do the same.

They’d hear back by the end of the week.

The new squat in Barnet was damp, and Archie had a cold suspicion that there was black mold on the walls. They kept the windows open, and slept with jumpers on against the chill. But spring was coming on, and hopefully soon the weather would improve. And if things got any worse, sleeping outside would no longer be such a nightmare.

Kay had been very quiet, withdrawn. Archie tried to stay close, but he could feel him- pulling away, in a way that had nothing to do with physical distance. Huddling into himself, like a turtle bracing itself for a blow.

He didn’t think they would get the job, Archie realised. He thought they’d be turned down, and he was getting himself ready for the disappointment. “Let’s have a picnic.”

Kay blinked, “What?”

“Let’s go out, and have a picnic." He smiled. “We’ll make sandwiches, and go out- somewhere. There’s Trent park not far. Let’s just go and-“

“Are you seriously offering to eat to distract me?” Kay gave a tired half-smile.

“I- yes. I suppose that is what I’m doing.”

He shook his head, chuckled. “I supposed a walk would be nice.”

Outside, the sun was peeking out from behind the clouds, offering a shy ray of light. “Why Canada?” Archie said at last, once they had reached the park and were strolling down the path. “I know you said- anywhere, but that’s the place you want, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know.” Kay sighed. “I want somewhere far away, and- oh, it’s dumb, but I think about having a little cottage or something, in the hills. Nothing but woods and cows and- you and me.” He flushed, squeezing Jon’s hand.

“It sounds wonderful.”

“Yeah, probably never afford it, but a hotel in the woods is pretty close. And in autumn, with the leaves going red and gold. It would probably rain a lot, but that’s okay. Like a- veil over it all. Everything quiet, and we could be the only people in the world. Just- you and me. And we might get lost, be lost- but we’d be together.” He took a breath, seemed to come back to himself. “Sorry.”

“No!” For a moment, he had been there. That perfect, distant world, lost in mist. “It was beautiful, Kay. It was like- poetry.”

“Sure.” Kay snorted, “Me, a poet, imagine it.”

“I could.” Archie insisted.

“Maybe if we go to Canada.” He smiled “When we have a day off, I’ll sit by a window and write about wandering lonely as a cloud.”

Archie imagined that, Kay sitting and writing poetry. It fit surprisingly well in his mind. “Tell me more.”

“What?”

“Tell me about Canada. We’re in a cabin, you’re writing poetry. What am I doing?”

“Probably reading a book. It’s all quiet, just the sound of the wind, the rain. Maybe some cows or sheep in the distance.”

“A fireplace?”

“Nah, it’s the summer. It’s warm, even if it’s raining. It’s just- still, like there’s nothing beyond us. Quiet, calm. We don’t need to do anything, go anywhere.”

“What am I reading?”

“I don’t know, a book on- birds. Or maybe gardening. Mushrooms, yeah. You’re learning about foraging, for when the rain stops.”

It sounded wonderful. “Maybe I’m reading your poetry.”

“You hate poetry.”

Archie blinked, “No, I don’t.”

Kay seemed to come back to himself, “I- okay. No idea- anyway you probably hate my poetry. I bet it’s dreadful.”

“I’d love your poetry.”

Kay huffed, “Sure, you probably would. How the hell did I end up finding you?”

“Perhaps our karma decided we deserved something good.”

There were some crudely carved benches, cut out of fallen logs. Archie sat down, glad to rest. Kay sat beside him.

“Between that and Anna coming through for us- I hope we haven’t used all of it up.”

“We got this far.” Archie kissed his cheek. Kay turned, and caught his mouth with his. It was soft, and warm, and deep. Archie closed his eyes and just- drank him in. Kay. His Kay.

“Do you have a dream like that?” Kay said at last. “Somewhere like that?”

“No. And even if I remembered it- don’t think I ever want to go there.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Kay put an arm around him. “New start?”

“New start.”

“Together.”

“Where you go, I go.”

Archie smiled. “That’s the deal.”

Another kiss, endlessly sweet.

The job was long and exhausting, picking up rubbish after a festival near Reading. Archie shrugged on his reflective vest, picked up his binbag and his trash picker, and he and Kay went out to make the most of the rapidly waning sunlight.

It was working along the far hedge, dislodging the remains of deflated balloons from the hawthorns, when the phone buzzed. He froze, coughing his breath. No, it was something else. A spam email, or a reminder their phone bill was due-

He worked his hand free from his heavy gloves, and pulled it out.

The screen blinked brightly in the dusk. It was an email. It was from Canada.

Oh Lord. Oh God please. His heart beating so hard it was nothing but one long, solid thrum, he touched the icon. It opened.

Dear sir, we considered your application and are happy to offer you and your partner-

And Archie didn’t see any more because he dropped his phone. Oh God. Oh please thank you, thank you. But when he fumbled for the phone and picked it up again, scanning the email while barely seeing it- he wasn’t thinking of Canada, or the hotel, or the rain and mists and peace- he was thinking of Kay.

He was going to be so happy.

Archie looked around, and there he was, by the half dismantled stage. Archie dropped his binbag and hurried over, “Kay!”

Kay turned. He looked tired, he hadn’t been sleeping. Archie beamed, and showed him the phone, the email. Looked into that wide, wonderful face, trying to engrave every last detail of his expression in his heart forever.

Kay took the phone as if it might shatter if he held it too tight. Looked at it. His finger trembled, just a little, as he scrolled down, reading it. Then his eyes closed and something- slipped away. Like a heavy, suffocating coat Kay had been lost in for too long, and Archie got to see him at last take it off, let it fray and float away on the evening breeze. “Thank God.”

“We did it.” Archie smiled.

“Yeah.” He nodded, and for a moment he looked- so tired. But in a good way. He had been tired, for so long, but for the first time he could deal with it. “We did it.” He took Archie’s hand. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He felt himself flush. “Yes, you could.”

“Maybe I could.” He handed Archie the phone. “But it wouldn’t count. It wouldn’t mean anything.” He touched Archie’s cheek. Kissed him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” The managed scowled. “Get back to work the two of you!”

“Oh.” Archie looked around for his bag, hurried back for it. “We should- we need the money.”

“Yeah.” Kay closed his eyes. “Remember to respond to the email.”

“Um, yes, of course.” God, how much would two tickets to Vancouver cost? The hotel wanted them there for April opening season. That gave them- little more than a month.

Dear God, a month.

Heidi was standing at the door to their room. Archie looked up from clothes he was stuffing their clothes into an old suitcase they’d found by the side of the road. One of the wheels was broken, but otherwise it was still good. He turned off the latest episode of Sheeple Case. It was better now Celia was gone, he’d never liked her. “Hello?”

“Where’s Kay?”

“Trying to find another cheap suitcase, and saying goodbye to Pren and the rest.” They’d been to see March yesterday, God, how happy she had been to know they’d gotten out. Maybe she could come to Canada too, once they’d gotten settled there.

“It’s official then?”

“Yes.” Archie smiled. “We got the visas last week, and we’re going on Thursday. They want us as early as possible to get things ready.”

“Ready for spoiled rich tourists.”

Archie sighed. “Yes. But I think it’s fair as they’ll be paying our salary.”

“The almighty dollar.”

“It’ll be the almighty Canadian dollar, but yes.”

“They’re selling you an illusion, Archie.” She leaned against the door frame. “Kay won’t listen but I thought you might. It’s not real, you’ll pretend and pretend but in the end they’ll drain you dry and consume you and strip everything human out of you and turn you into another-“

“Stop.” His stomach was churning. A hunger that wasn’t hunger gnawing under his skin. He felt words, heavy on his tongue. He tasted them, and they were better than any chocolate. Wanted to say them but- they were gone. Everything tasted of lead.

Heidi hesitated, the wind taken out of her sails. She looked at Archie, but didn’t seem to be able to look him in the eye. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She finished weakly. She turned and left, looking somewhat deflated.

Archie wanted to go after her, apologise. But- strip everything human out of you. His stomach turned again. He braced himself on the bed, shuddering. Hands, hands on him. Something working its way through his bones, and he was no longer-

“Archie?”

Kay pushed the door open, and Archie lurched towards him, and then Kay’s arms were around him. The world steadied, and the shadows evaporated him. He was Archie, and he had Kay.

“What the fuck did she say to you?” Kay looked livid.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Look at you-“

“Kay.” He looked at him, Kay met his eyes, didn’t look away. “You see me?”

“Of course I see you.” Kay stroked his cheek. “Who else?”

“I don’t know.” It had suddenly seemed- very important. “I’ll be okay.”

“Still-“

“We’re going soon. Let’s just go.”

Kay hugged him. Archie closed his eyes. Almost there.

The airport was huge. Archie wondered if he had every been in one before. Probably nothing as big as Heathrow. “First to Spain,” Kay was looking at the list of connecting flights. “Then Florida, California, Seattle- then Vancouver.” He drew in a breath. “We should stock up on coffee once we’re through check in.”

“The layover in California’s five hours.” Archie pointed. “We can sleep in the lounge. We’ve had worse.”

“Yeah.” Kay gave a sad smile. “That’s- we’ll be saying that a lot. We’ve had worse. We’ve had the worst, and it was horrible.”

“And it’s over.”

“It’s over.” Kay closed his eyes, let out a breath. “When can we check in our bags?”

“The counter opens pretty soon.”

“Okay.” Kay rolled his shoulders. “Can you watch the bags? I need to find the toilets.”

“I saw some over there.”

Archie sat on the bags, looking around as Kay strolled away. So many people it made him dizzy. No one looked at him, but it wasn’t the pointed sort of ignoring he’d been used to on the streets. He was just part of the crowd. Invisible but still there-

Then something hit him, almost knocking him off the bags. A husky dog bounced up at him, panting. Archie blinked at it in surprise, tentatively patting the dog. It licked his hand.

“Captain! Captain here!” The dog turned, and bounded back to its owner. A big woman with a sizeable afro caught the trailing lead. “Sorry about that! I was picking up a friend and she got away.” She looked up, smiling at him- why was she smiling at him? She didn’t like him, she hated him-

“Are you okay?” That smile slipped.

Archie shook himself, “I, ah- of course. I’m sorry. She’s a nice dog?”

“Yeah, Captain Barker.” She tousled the dog’s ears. “Where are you going?”

“Canada. Wait- Barker? As in, Georgie Barker? From Sheeple Chase?”

“Are you a fan?” She blinked at him, “Seriously? I have like- twelve fans.”

“Well, I suppose I am one of them?” Archie got up. “I’m Archie.”

“It’s great to meet you Archie.” She smiled. “Want an autograph?”

He didn’t really, but she looked so happy, Archie nodded. She pulled out an old receipt, and scrawled a signature on it, put it down for captain to add her paw print. “I’m just here picking up Celia and a friend, if you want to wait a bit, I can ask her to sign too-“

“No, it’s okay.” Archie took the autograph, folded it and put it in his pocket. He saw Kay out of the corner of his eye, and got up. “We have to go.”

“How long are you going for?”

“For good.” He gathered their bags. The repaired wheel on his suitcase squeaked. “But we’ll still keep listening.”

“Typical. Finally meet a fan and he’d going around the world. Oh, there’s Celia. Anyway, good luck Archie!”

“You too.” Archie turned away, and hurried over to Kay. For a moment he caught a glimpse of Georgie Barker meeting a tall woman who he recognised as Celia from the thumbnail, with another, shorter woman who looked even more tired than Archie felt. Hunched on herself, pale and drawn with heavy bags under her eyes. For a moment, Archie felt a surge of sympathy. He had been there, once. He was glad he wasn’t there now.

Celia looked right at him for a moment- then a crowd of tourists cut between them, and Kay took his hand and led them away to the check in desks. “They opened a bit early, let’s get the stuff in and we can get through checks.”

“Yes.” It felt odd, like turning away was cutting the last ties to something that had been clinging to him for so long- but then, that was what they were doing. “A new start.” He mumbled as they checked in their bags, took off their shoes to go through security. With every step away, he felt- lighter. Freer. The air filled his lungs and for all it was recycled and tasted of air conditioning, it was wonderful.

They passed through the battalion of restaurants around duty free and he even felt the smallest hint of hunger. “Something new. New places. New us.”

“Hmm?” Kay looked up from where he’d been checking their boarding passes for the sixth time. Thumbing through their passports.

“Just thinking.” He took his passport. Looked down at his face, that name. A whole life that was becoming real around them. “Do you think it might be worth starting to use these?” He tapped the names, “People are going to be calling us by them. We had better get used to them.”

“I suppose.” Kay huffed. Their boarding gate was called.

“So, this is it.” He looked out of the wide windows. Outside, an early spring rain was falling, blanketing London. “The last time.”

“Yeah, I’m not sorry for it.” He kissed Archie’s cheek. “Ready for a new start, Jonathan Sims?”

“Where you go, I go, Martin Blackwood.”