18.06.202X - Hangout - Part 2

 

Hangout – Part 2

The door creaked open. Mish was still in bed. Sayori hadn't expected any sudden improvements to occur, but it still felt... disheartening.

The big, strong soldier, the rock she'd relied on for barely a month – a month that felt like her entire life – now slumped over in her blood-stained bed like a popped balloon, sad and hollow and deflated.

“Heya...” Her voice betrayed her fatigue. “How's it going?”

She slumped down on the bed, drowsy from the Valium, lungs burning, her bandaged knuckles still throbbing with pain.

“I... your grandpa... h-he...” She cleared her throat. “he used t-to drive a-an...”

She glanced at Mishka, at her still, lifeless eyes, and suddenly everything came back to her, piercing through the Valium haze with enough force to make it feel like a bare-knuckle punch to the gut, and try as she might, she didn't manage to stifle her sob in time.

crying?

“H-he used t-to... d-drive a-an Oshk-kosh...” She buried her face in her hands and curled up into a little lonely ball, her shoulders shaking with every sob and sniffle that escaped her lips. “I g-got... f-found th-this hoodie... l-look..”

I know this voice

She didn't want to stand up yet, she wanted to stay curled up forever, but Mishka was her friend and she would have pushed on because that's what she's like and I have to be strong like Mishka so she got off the bed, and walked closer to Mishka, and pointed at the lettering on her chest with shaking hands, gulping down tears all the while.

“...look... it's of-official... they m-made these...” She regretted the lamely-spoken words the moment they left her mouth. It felt stupid. This whole idea was stupid. “R-real Oshkosh... O-Oshk-kosh...”

Sayori

wait

waitwaitwait

no

no...

what's happening

It's so blurry

what happened?

Don't cry...

It's okay - I'm here...

She gave up. Knees to her chest, back to the bed, crying silently. The straps on the holster and the drop leg pouch groaned in protest.

“...Jenny's g-gone... her t-trailer is empty, I d-don't know where she w-went... R-Rufus is g-gone too, and Harris, a-and Arnold and Erja and oh my God Izzy's g-gone as well... Everybody's gone... you can't leave me, p-please... not like the others, y-you can't g-go...” She started, and now the words were pouring out of her, the levee had finally broken and it was too late to do anything except watch the cascade. “I c-can't... I can't d-dig another grave! I-if I h-have t-to b-bury you next t-to Izzy, th-then I'll d-dig one f-for myself, and lay down a-and just p-pull the trigger... I d-don't want this, I want my Mishka b-back!”

I'm still here...

Don't cry-

please

Move - do something
Why can't I do something

just move your fucking hand-

move your hand

please - Sayori, I'm still here - please don't cry

Heavy breathing. She felt exhausted. The previous days had been nightmare after stressful nightmare. What was even the point anymore?

Her dearest friend, her only friend, her Mishka was a husk.

Lockers full of weapons, months and years worth of food and gasoline, enough medicine to heal the entire town a hundred times over, but nothing that would bring her Mishka back.

Enclosed in an empty fortress in a city of ghosts, a queen of nothing.

She was nothing.

Speak-- Move-- DO SOMETHING

ANYTHING

SAYORI-

“C-can I hold your hand? M-Mish?” No response. A sudden, frantic, stressed attempt, her hands blindly clawing after a small piece of comfort. “Please, can I h-hold your hand, please...”

She finally grasped Mishka's hand, and held on for dear life. It was still warm, the illusion of life was still there, but...

“Please d-don't leave me...”

She was already gone.

WHY IS THIS HAPPENING

MOVE TALK

IT'S OKAY

PLEASE DON'T CRY

IT'S OKAY

They sat there, for a moment, hand in hand, Sayori's sniffling slowly dying out. The sadness was still there, but it felt like her tear ducts had run dry.

Besides, she didn't want to think about that. She wanted to forget, as best she could.

The girl rummaged through her pockets and found a Valium tablet, still in it's crumpled foil blister.

She put it away.

“Remember when... we had that dumb argument?” She started, keeping her gaze fixed on the radio set in the room.

An argument?

She'd brought cheap two-way radios to every trailer and even set one up outside Rufus' tent, just to keep everyone updated on the fog situation and to help with communication, but they'd laid silent for a long time now. As it stood, the only radio still active was the one in her own bedroom, the buzz of static occasionally punctuated by “Fiver Zero Two” and his monotone, droning voice.

“About... what a good person is?” She cleared her throat. Mishka's hand was warm. “I don't disagree with your definition – not at all. I just... disagree with your reasoning, I guess. Can't see it the way you do.”

...Sayori

They sat in silence for a while, and Sayori decided she'd had enough of having that stupid water ration collecting dust, so she grabbed it with her free hand and took a shaky sip.

Surprisingly, it didn't taste like anything. She'd expected it to be gross and plastic-y, or dank and dusty, but it was just... water. 

Plain, room-temperature water.

“You know what a good friend does – what a good person does?” 

...Not any more. 

She tugged on Mishka's hand and took another sip.
“A good person gives you Naloxone and sits by your bed and brings you pie when you do too much morphine. A good person holds your hair when you're throwing up after seeing your first dead rotter.”

...The pie?

Her voice was soft, slightly hoarse, barely above a whisper.

“A good person listens to you break down and pulls you back up. A good person drags you to the surface when you're starting to sink. A good person always has your back when you're reloading.” She smiled softly. They'd been through so much together. “A good person-”

She didn't want to finish that.

But she had to.

You have to.

“A good person reads stories t-to her sister e-every night...” There came the sniffles again, burning tears in tired eyes. “A g-good person p-plants flowers... o-on her sister's grave...”

Please don't cry- No - this is my fault...

“You know w-why I disagree with you?” She took a steadying gulp of water, emptying the plastic bag. “I've... I-I'm... after I s-shot you... I was so angry ab-about everything, I c-couldn't understand why y-you weren't answering me... I... I p-pushed my f-finger into your b-bullet wound... I was s-so angry and scared... I w-wanted t-to hit you, s-so you'd s-snap out of it... oh God I'm so s-sorry...”

Again.

A useless, inconsolable wreck.

It's no wonder everyone leaves you.

Your friendship is a burden.

“I was the one w-who got Izzy killed... I'm the r-reason your s-sister is dead...” The water ration laid empty, discarded. Sayori could feel her eyelids going raw from the constant rubbing, her sparse makeup now sullying the sleeves of the gray Oskosh hoodie. “And I alm-most d-did the same to you, b-because I'm s-stupid, and stubborn, and so s-selfish t-that I'd rather g-get my best friend k-killed than face m-my own past...”

No.. No - I know - it's not your fault -
It's MY fault - I should've gotten there earlier.

If my stupid fucking brain would work properly

If I hadn't lost the Kalash -

If I'd learned English faster -

If I'd prioritized getting here over that fucking medication

IF I'D FOUND YOU TWO FASTER

This is my punishment isn't it?

I can't even hug you

I can't even see your face

I'm a useless pile of meat and bones

“Oh, Mishka... h-how many times have we gone o-out? How m-many times have y-you come b-back unharmed?” She sniffled and shook her head. “I'm s-selfish. I'm a r-rotten, selfish bitch t-that d-dumps all her bullshit on you and expects y-you to s-solve it a-and then w-won't even give you the t-time of day when you n-need someone t-to talk to.”

Those injuries weren't you...

Sayori - Is this how you think?

Have you been keeping this inside the entire time?

MOVE

MOVE  

MOVE    

FUCK JUST FUCKING MOVE          

“I'm h-horrible.” A deep breath, and then a steely, cold voice, as measured as she could make it. “I wouldn't wish myself on my w-worst enemy. I look like a monster. Everyone l-left because they k-knew they'd end up like Izzy. Like Pansy. Like you.”

THIS ISN'T YOUR FAULT          

PLEASE          

I'LL DO ANYTHING          

MOVE          

SPEAK          

MOVE              

SPEAK                   

SAYORI IT'S OKAY                           

She smiled, a crooked, hopeless smile, eyes rimmed with red.

“All I'm wondering is – why did you decide to stay? D-did you see something worth s-sticking around for? Were you j-just planning to leave as w-well? W-was it because of I-Izzy?” She pulled the pistol out of its holster and grasped it by the barrel, offering the handle to Mishka. “If y-you want r-revenge... h-here. It's okay. I don't mi-”

“'s okay.”

While it might have been raspy from disuse and dryness, and might have been barely audible past the rain and the thunder and the wind blowing against the wall, she still recognized that voice instantly.

“Mish? Mish!?” Sayori rose to her feet, speechless for a moment. “D-did you just...”

YES        

YES I'M HERE    

I'M STILL HERE   

I'M STILL HERE! 

She could see Mishka's mouth moving slightly, as if the girl was trying to speak, but no other words came out.

“Oh my God, Mish, you're...” Sayori closed in and buried her face in Mishka's shirt, wrapping her arms around the deserter. This close, there was a familiar, comforting smell – although she would most likely have called it a “scent” instead – there was the steady, drumming heartbeat, now beating with far more vigor than when she was first laid upon the bed, and if Sayori perked her ears enough, she could just about hear something, barely a whisper, too quiet to make out.

I did it... I did it...

She stayed there, embracing her friend's limp body for a moment. Perhaps several moments – it didn't matter. All that mattered was Mishka, and her warmth, and the raspy, ragged voice she'd heard just now.

“You know...” She began, in a soft voice. “I w-was out by the r-rest stop earlier... I mentioned that, I think... there's a clothes store there. I saw... I saw a dress, it w-was too big f-for me, but... It m-might be your size. W-we could go check it out once you're up a-and about!”

I'd love to...

“You know, for later.” She gently stroked Mishka's sweaty hair. “F-for when we get out of this mess... g-get out of f-fucking Kentucky... w-we could g-go out and travel. Y-you wouldn't have t-to be a big, strong s-soldier anymore.”

...I

...What does that mean?

Sayori took a moment and gazed into Mishka's eyes, soft and brown and not-quite-there, and she felt like she could almost see something, some movement beneath the surface, something struggling to get out, to be free.

“You c-could just... be human.”

Human

I'll try.

She stayed there, and enjoyed the warmth, and stared, and wondered.

It didn't take long for her reverie to be interrupted. Somewhere out in the storm and fury, a helo was circling. She heard the rotor blades.

A whisper of a gasp escaped Mishka's mouth.

Sayori's heart dropped as she felt Mishka stiffen up slightly. Whatever light was shining behind her eyes was fading away.

Mishka was gone again.

“N-no... no...” This is cruelty, this is horrible, why would you take her away like this again- “Mishka...”

The rotors came closer and closer and she could have sworn it was right on top of them so she grabbed the pistol and racked the slide and prepared herself to take down as many of whatever dirtbag killteam they were landing into the compound as she could and-

The noise went past them, even lower, and lower, until suddenly there was a mighty crash as the bird landed into the forest, followed by a muffled explosion soon after.

She straightened from her crouch and holstered her pistol, her voice dripping venom.

“If that fucking pilot survived I'm going to m-make him wish he b-burned to death. I'm g-going to make him w-wish the rotters got to him f-first.”

She wiped away her tears. No more of them tonight.

Tonight we pay them back in full.

 

 ...something struggling to get out, to be free.