Chapter Text
They let the bus take them as far as it went.
Neither of them had a plan; Naim hadn’t even had chance to pack, still in his clothes that stank of smoke and blood, but Ryan found he couldn’t care less as with Naim’s sleep-heavy breath against his neck. As angry as Ryan was, as he had been when Izzie confessed what Naim had done, he couldn’t deny the palpable relief he felt now they were back together. With Hunter gone, Naim was all he had, and the only person who’d tried to protect him, to keep him safe even when it put him in danger. If he hadn’t been so desperate to fix things, refusing to stay away no matter how many times Ryan implored him to, he would never had to run from the Thing in the first place. That meant something.
Over Naim’s head, he watched as the bus passed a stationary figure, in the same clothes as and bearing the face of the boy sleeping against him. Weirdly enough, seeing it brought relief; there was no doubt that the boy beside him was real, at least for a little while.
The bus continued steadily for just over seven hours. Ryan drifted in and out of sleep, waking up just long enough each time to make sure Naim was still asleep; the Thing didn’t seem to have enough patience to pretend for so long, which kept him comfortable enough to sleep, outside of the reassurance the crowded bus offered. Naim barely stirred, and Ryan couldn’t blame him; he couldn’t imagine the other boy had slept since the fire.
“I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t you,” He’d whispered feverishly once they were safely onboard the bus, moving away from the versions of each other Ryan imagined they both saw glaring from the bus stop, “I couldn’t be sure I hadn’t killed you, even when I heard it scream. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Ryan couldn’t think of a response, and Naim seemed content without one, sinking into his seat with a sigh even as his eyes scanned the terrain outside, waiting for the threat to reappear.
The bus pulled into its final stop long after dark, a dingy bus station that thankfully had a motel within walking distance, meaning they could at least sleep before trying to figure out what the fuck the were supposed to do. He'd been limited on time while preparing to leave, with his parents up his ass ever since he got outed for being with Hunter. They'd tiptoed around him like he was infectious, hardly speaking to him outside of questioning his whereabouts almost constantly and lecturing him for the way he 'presented himself to the community'. Apparently cursing him with some supernatural entity wasn't enough; he had to wear the guise of being perfectly reformed, in case he caused any more damage to his parents reputation. They couldn't be seen to support his sin at all, and apparently that meant treating him like a stranger, even in their own home. When he'd returned home after Izzie almost led him to his death, and finding out that Naim was the reason his parents found out about him and Hunter, they hadn't said a word. They'd both been awake, sat at the table and talking in hushed voices but stopping when he entered, like bitchy members of a high-school clique.
Bloody and bruised and still limping from how badly he'd been hit, his face undoubtedly tearstained and swollen from the furious sobs that had escaped him once Naim got out of the car, and they didn't say a word. Didn't ask what happened, who hurt him, even if he was okay. He hadn't expected them to, not really, but it was all the confirmation he needed that leaving would be for the best. He'd practically begged Naim to stay, too afraid to endure such torture alone, but who else did he have? His parents clearly didn't car about him anymore, or maybe they never had, beyond his fulfilling of the expectations of their town; the son to continue their lineage, to nod and smile politely at church congregations and show off how well they'd raised him. Never the future he wanted, but an unescapable one, where what he wanted didn't matter. At the realisation that he'd either die in a town he hated or somewhere far away, without the weight of their judgement, it seemed like a no-brainer. He waited until they fell asleep to pack, shoving what he could into his schoolbag while staying as quiet as possible, determined not to wake them. If he did, who knew the lengths they'd go to keep him from escaping, to keep their control over him.
When he saw great plumes of smoke on the horizon, with an orange glow visible from even miles away, he'd known immediately that it was Naim. For their one sanctuary, the only place they could truly be alone together, to go up in flames when he'd left Naim alone, in spite of all his pleading? A lump had lodged into his throat like a stone, pre-emptive grief and fear congealing until he felt like he couldn't breathe. Had he escaped the fire, or succumbed to the hopelessness and let it take him? Or had he no choice at all, strangled or ripped apart by a thing wearing Ryan's face. It hadn't really mattered, then; all he could let himself think about was that, soon enough, there would be sirens blaring and the phone would be ringing off the hook at the sight of some rare town gossip, and he'd have missed his chance entirely. He'd zipped the bag hastily and made his way downstairs and quietly as he could, not even giving himself chance to reminisce before leaving.
His gaze roamed over Naim's sleeping form, just appreciating that they'd made it. He'd been ready to give in when Naim showed up, believing the Thing had returned after evading it for the rest of the night and prepared to accept whatever it would do to him, until he realised he'd never seen Naim with so many injuries and even his imagination couldn't have invoked such a distinct smell of smoke. Now, they were far away, and while the looming threat of the creature that stalked them remained, there parents weren't there to ruin what they had. Realising he'd been sat just staring at the other boy as the buses other occupants began to take their leave, he shook himself out of his reverie and tried to rouse Naim from his slumber. He tapped the other boy, gently at first then slightly more insistently as he didn’t even stir, but he stubbornly remained asleep, face pressed against the bus window and leaving fog on the glass every time he breathed. Finally, Ryan gave in and shook Naim’s shoulders, only for the other boy to flinch back aggressively, eyes flying open as his hands raised to shield his face.
“Please, no!” He cried, breathing wet with a building sob, and Ryan felt the eyes of the other passengers on them as they made their way off the bus.
He raised his hands in mock surrender, leaning far enough away that Naim could hopefully be reassured that Ryan wasn’t trying to hurt him.
“Naim, it’s just me, I swear it. You’re okay, it’s okay.”
Naim’s breathing stayed heavy, rasping in and out of him like his throat was made of sandpaper. Slowly, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a lighter, watching Ryan’s face for a reaction the other boy was determined not to give. If fire was the only thing that allowed Naim to escape before, using it to let himself feel safe now was something Ryan wouldn't begrudge. Naim lit the flame, leaning back instinctively as he anticipated the exposure of the Thing, and only relaxed when Ryan remained unmoved, doing his best to offer a reassuring smile despite the grief building in his chest.
What had they done to deserve this? Was being gay enough of a sin to warrant this torture? Naim had been good, only straying at Ryan’s encouragement, reporting them when he saw him and Hunter together and doing his best to stay good for his mum’s sake, despite how much he hated their town. He hadn’t even been caught, that was the worst part; too much sympathy for two disgraced gay boys, and he was damned to the same fate. Maybe, without it, Naim could have grown out of it, grown to be the type of man they were always told to become by preachers, at least until he got out of their piece of shit town and could finally be free.
Now, they were cursed forever, if what Naim’s mum had said was true. No escaping the Thing, and Naim’s choked sobs of relief as he flicked the lighter’s lid to extinguish it was only the beginning. It was practically inevitable that they would succumb to it, the only question was how long it would take to finally catch them off guard. But that didn’t matter, not while Naim was shaking so badly. Ryan pushed the thoughts away and hugged the other boy to his chest, rocking him slightly as he started to cry.
“I’m sorry, I just had to check you were… that it wasn’t-”
“I know. It’s okay, don’t apologise.”
“No, I need to apologise for everything, it’s my fault that Hunter-“
Ryan couldn’t take that line of thought right now, not when they were already leaving everything behind.
“We need to get off the bus.” Naim pulled away, looking apprehensive, and Ryan wiped the last traces of tears from his face, careful of the irritation around his eyes, “There’s a motel within walking distance from here. I have more than enough money; I took the cash from both my parents wallets.”
Finally, at that, Naim smiled.
“Such a rebel.”
Ryan shoved him jovially, then offered his hand, helping the other boy to his feet. They left the bus hand in hand, and they were both so shaken by everything that Ryan couldn’t tell which one of them was shaking. The night air bit at the bare skin of his face, and he watched as Naim shivered, wrapping him free arm around his own torso in an attempt to preserve warmth. Briefly letting go of him, Ryan shrugged off his jacket and draped it around Naim’s shoulders before slinging his arm over the other boy’s shoulders. He expected a joke, something to ease the casual romance of the act, but Naim only smiled, leaning into the gesture.
Ryan could never have seen himself being so openly affectionate with Naim. Their relationship was an impossibility, stuck in a community so vehemently against them they would’ve been beaten to death, had Hunter’s sister not left the car running. Their secret meetings, far away from everyone else, were a sanctuary, a sort of heaven that just couldn’t exist on the earth they’d been brought up on. Yet, in the dark of the night, hundreds of miles from the town he never really thought he’d escape, he couldn’t stay away. Who knew how long they’d have, before the Thing caught up to them and finally tore them apart like it had Hunter? Without the luxury of time, and the fantasy of a future where things would be better, there was nothing to hold him back.
They crossed the deserted road and weaved between the cars in the motel car park, still hand in hand. Ryan pulled open the cracked glass door and drew the attention of the desk attendant. She was maybe twenty-five, looking tired but kind, marking the page of the book she was reading before closing it and tucking it somewhere behind the counter. Then, she straightened, offering them a smile. As a last minute thought, Ryan stepped away from Naim, and the other boy did a good job of pretending not to notice it.
“Hi, can we get a room please?” Ryan asked, doing his best to sounds confident.
“Single or two bed?”
“Umm…”
Naim looked at the ceiling, and Ryan could see his lips twitching as he tried not to smile, while the latter wondered if it was still common for people to be denied service if they were suspected to be gay outside of their town. Seeming to sense his apprehension, the young woman behind the counter offered a gentle smile.
“The single bed’s cheaper, so it’s better if you’re on a budget. It’s a queen size, if that helps.”
“We’ll take a single, then”
Ryan gave the necessary information and paid, an almost suspiciously cheap amount even for a one-bed room, but the desk attendant just shrugged at his shock, and he thought better than to question it. As he handed over the cash and got their room key in return, he felt Naim sidle closer to him, not quite touching be close enough to feel the heart of his skin. He was staring out of the window, his teeth working into his lower lip, and Ryan knew It was there, even if he couldn’t see it. He grasped Naim’s hand, his thumb tracing the delicate bones there, and he felt the other boy settle slightly, looking briefly towards him before resuming his staring contest with the empty car park.
The woman behind the desk looked contemplative, looking between the two of them like she was doing a puzzle in her head, and Ryan felt himself tensing, as if readying for a fight. But instead of questioning their closeness or Naim’s supposed hallucinations, she grabbed a scrap of paper and quickly scribbled something down on it before pushing it across the counter.
“If you needed help, for any reason,” She began quietly, gaining even Naim’s attention, “There’s a youth shelter not far from here. Can help you get a more permanent place to stay and jobs if you need. They helped me a lot, and… they’d be happy to help you too, if you needed it. I wrote down the address, if you wanted to check it out.”
Ryan supposed they were pretty obvious. Both shaken, turning up at a motel late at night with Naim’s clothes still stained with dirt and blood and his face tear stained. One backpack between them and paying entirely in cash? They’d have to do better if they didn’t want to get caught. It was hard to imagine there was anyone they could safely confide in, but there was something about the desk attendant and the vulnerability she offered that made Ryan want to trust, despite everything.
“And are they, um, cool? About… y’know-“
“Yeah, they are. A lot of kids get kicked out or abused because of who they are, you wouldn’t be alone.” Ryan nodded, blinking away tears, and felt Naim squeeze his hand, “Give them a chance, okay? No point struggling more than you need to. I’m Amber, by the way.”
Naim took charge of the conversation, sensing that Ryan was beyond it.
“I’m Naim, this is Ryan.” They warmly shook hands, Naim’s other hand still entangled with Ryan’s.
“Alright, well, I won’t keep you. Just wanted to let you know you have options.”
“Thank you.” Ryan whispered hoarsely, unable to look her in the eyes.
He felt Naim lead him back outside and up a flight of stairs, presumably towards their room. Something about the interaction had cracked a defence inside him, spilling all the vulnerabilities he’d tried so hard to keep under lockdown into his chest cavity. Naim had always had that effect on him, the way Hunter didn’t, prompting him to share everything about himself almost effortlessly. What should’ve remained unsaid became easy conversation when they lay together, trading kisses or gentle punches or one crumpled cigarette. Now he was alone with him, and the prospect of safety handed to him on a piece of scrap paper, it was as if he couldn’t hold back the flood any longer.
The room was small and dingy, clean enough but with a distinct scent of mildew and the chipping paint stained by years of under-watched kids and overzealous sex. The bedsheets, at least, were fresh, and neither of them were in much of a position to complain. Ryan half collapsed onto the bed, letting his bag fall at its side, and Naim slowly sat beside him, looking apprehensive.
“Are you okay?” He asked in a half-whisper, his thumb ghosting over Ryan’s cheeks, and it was only then the other boy realised he was crying.
“He should be with us,” Ryan choked out, and some of the colour drained from Naim’s face, “We could’ve all survived, we could have gotten away for a while.”
“I’m sorry.” Naim’s voice came out in a whisper, weak with suppressed emotion, “It’s all my fault, if I’d never had said anything, he would still be here, and maybe we wouldn’t be cursed. I was just... I was so jealous, because I wanted to be with you so badly, and I though that maybe you wanted Hunter more, that you'd been leading me on. It sounds so childish, god, all of this is my fault.”
For a moment, Ryan considered agreeing. Taking the easy route and getting angry, letting Naim continue to blame himself when Ryan already knew it was tearing him up inside. Naim wouldn’t argue, Ryan knew that; he’d internalise it and blink back tears and be there for him anyway, like he had when Ryan first got cursed.
But he hated watching Naim blame himself. Hated the far-off look he got when someone mentioned Hunter, the tremble at the corner of his lip. He hated the helpless way he’d looked at him when Ryan kicked him out of the car, knowing he was doing him to return to an empty house. Even when he’d been so angry he almost considered leaving Naim at the mercy of the cunts Izzie set on them, he’d hated that look. He wouldn’t be the reason for its return, not when he didn’t have it in him to be angry at all.
“You tried to help Hunter,” Ryan offered hoarsely, unable to face Naim and the hopeful way he looked at him, “You were the reason they went looking for him, even though they thought you were crazy. You tried to save me, too, even when I was an arsehole to you and everyone was acting like you’d catch something off of me. You might have told on us, but we weren’t exactly subtle; we knew we’d get caught eventually. And you definitely aren’t the one who cursed us; our parents let this happen, even though they knew it could kill us, all because they were scared of us being gay. They’re the ones who killed Hunter, not you.”
“He was so scared,” Naim sobbed in earnest, “I tried to help but the doors were locked, and I forgot about the one he left through. By the time I got out there, he was gone. I didn’t even see what happened, but it only left his head behind. What the fuck did it do to him that only his head was left?!”
Ryan pulled Naim fiercely to his chest and held him tight as he sobbed in earnest. He could feel tears streaming down his own cheeks, the way they both shook in tandem.
He wondered if they’d ever feel better. It hadn’t gone away, just kept at a distance by their close proximity, which only allowed it to get better at mimicking them. Eventually, if there truly was no way of getting rid of it, one of them would succumb to its violence, the other surely following soon after, involuntarily or otherwise. It was hard to imagine learning to live with it, but it was the choice they’d made. Not hiding who they were or giving up once they’d been caught, but continuing to live in spite of it, the war Hunter never had the chance to. Would the grief always follow them this closely, or would it water with the mercy of time? Ryan could only hope.
They remained entangled with each other, kicking off their shoes and making their way slowly under the covers while refusing to let each other go. Holding each other progressed to kisses, sticky with tears and interrupted by the wheeze of upset breaths, but languid with the leisure of time. Ryan wished they could’ve kissed in his bedroom like this, or greeted each other in the hallways with a quick pitch like all the other couples instead of longing glances and stolen touches in secret miles away. He’d never wanted to hide Naim; now they were away, he realised, they might not have to.
“Are we gonna check that place out?” Naim asked breathlessly, breaking away for a moment and wiping saliva from around his lips, “Do you think we can trust her?”
“We probably shouldn’t trust her, but I want to,” Ryan murmured, feeling flayed open, “There’ll be other people there other than us, so it’ll be harder for It to get us. Plus, there’s only so long the money can last us; we kinda need all the help we can get.”
Naim nodded and gently pressed their foreheads together as they lay facing each other, his eyes closing in contentment. Ryan reached out to gently trace his features: the slope of his brow, the swell of his lower lip, red from kissing, the small smattering of freckles across his cheeks. He could’ve spent the rest of his life looking at his boy and never grown tired.
“Not everywhere’s as bad as there. My old home wasn’t. We’ll be okay.”
It was hard to believe it, but Ryan so desperately wanted to. Wanted a future with Naim, all the things he should’ve wanted with a girl. For now though, in a shitty motel room with all the uncertainty in the world, he allowed himself to hope.
“Yeah,” He said quietly, “I think we will be.”