Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ray couldn’t walk anymore. There were bright lights shined in his face despite the late hour of the night, Pete was still trotting along ahead of him. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest and splatter on the ground in front of him.

Regret burned through his veins; his mom, god. She’d be devastated, probably try to kill herself. Ray inhaled with a wheeze and exhaled on a sob because he knew who was going to win the Long Walk. It was never going to be him, it never would be.

“Garraty, c’mon! keep walkin’!” Pete screamed, walking backwards. Ray stumbled, sobbing more than breathing. Everything hurt so bad, and he knew Pete was just as bad off. But Pete would do something good with the win. Ray never would’ve done anything good with his wish. Blood dripped from his lower lip from how hard he was biting it.

“First warning, number 47! First warning!” A guard shouted. Ray whimpered, falling to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Nothing was holding him up anymore; no hope, nothing. Pete screamed, and suddenly there was somebody by his side, dragging him to his feet.

“First warning, number 23! First-”

“I’m walking!” Pete screamed, his voice raw. Ray tried to shove his way out of Pete’s arms, tears and snot dripping down his face with the light drizzle from the sky that he was already soaked from.

“Second warning, number 47! Second warning!” The screaming from the spectators wasn’t loud enough to drown out Pete’s harsh panting as he tried to drag Ray along with him, nor Ray’s heart wrenching sobs. He coughed and choked on mucus and spit,feeling Pete brush away the tears roughly.

“Don’t cry, Darlin’.” Pete whispered, on the verge of tears. “I got you. Just like that first night. Just go to sleep. I’ve got you.” He was crying by the end of it, but he had a smile on his face. “I’ll keep you safe, go to sleep.”

Ray didn’t think he had the energy to talk. He was almost positive Pete was supporting all of his weight, but the man didn’t complain. Ray tried to curl in on himself, to clutch his cramping stomach, but Pete kept him up. Ray sobbed - he couldn’t take it anymore, and Pete couldn’t force him to. Not like this. Not anymore. They’d agreed.

“Second warning, number 23! Second warning!” The guards warned. Ray cried harder, the force of his wails punched his chest and throat - but the emotional outlet made him feel better. His muscles were jelly-like, growing more liquid with each sob punctuated out of him. 

“Third and final warning, number 47!” Guards started approaching. Ray screamed - it sounded like nails on a chalkboard - but he was drowned out by Pete’s equally loud screaming, followed by the man’s shouting - barking orders directed at the guards with guns, who were rapidly approaching the frozen pair.

“I win! I won! I get the wish! I wish you don’t kill him!” Pete screamed, curling his body around Ray’s. The warmth of Pete’s body, despite the chill of his exposed skin, made him shiver and lean more into it. His eyes slipped shut. He sluggishly tried to push away from Pete, tried to convey his unhappiness with what Pete was trying to do. Besides, it wouldn’t work. The Major wouldn’t allow it.

“Wait.” The Major ordered. Ray peeked his eyes open and turned his head to see the Major walk through the parted sea of guards. “That cannot be-”

“If you don’t grant me my wish, everyone will lose hope in the Long Walk. What then, huh? Who’s gonna go on the walk if it means you won't grant their wish?” Ray whimpered at Pete’s words; Pete was going to get himself killed, and then this whole thing would’ve been for nothing. 

“I see.” The Major said. “Well, alright. Let the boys go, Men. It seems this is what 23 wants. After all, fame after success is better than the reward itself, no?” The Major chuckled. Ray couldn’t feel his feet, or his hands. He was shaking; this couldn’t be real. Nothing like this had ever happened before. And the guards were listening! They were lowering their guns as Pete lowered the both of them to the ground and curled his body back around Ray.

Ray whined in dizzied confusion. His stomach still hurt, his feet still bled. The rain was still making him shake and shiver.

“Sh, Darlin’. I’ve got you-” Pete was crying so hard it was almost hard to make out his words. “You’re alive. Your mom will never have to worry about you ever again, she can retire- y-you’re okay. Oh my god, I love y- thank you, God.” Pete leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Ray’s hair.

But Ray weakly looked up at Pete’s relief-striken face and shoved his lips messily against Pete’s, uncaring of who was watching them. He owed Pete his life, his everything. And Pete still had the gall to be worried about Ray’s mom.

But then Pete pulled away from the kiss, and Ray felt his breath speed up, his eyes scanning Pete’s face for any signs of what he did wrong so he could fix it. It didn’t matter how he had him, he just had to have Pete in his life. Ray couldn’t imagine himself surviving if Pete wasn’t with him. He whined, stressed and feeling too many emotions at once for someone who hadn’t slept properly in five days.

“Shh, sh. It’s alright, Darlin’. I’m okay, you’re okay. Calm down, sweetheart.” Pete cooed in a shaky voice, brushing Ray’s hair out of his eyes. “We have all the time in the world for us. Just…sit with me a minute.”

And Ray felt his lips tug upwards into a smile, pressing his ear against Pete’s chest and finally letting himself sleep. He and Pete had all the time in the world to find themselves; they had only just finally found each other, after all.

Maybe in another life, Pete would’ve died and Ray would’ve gone mad. Or maybe Ray would’ve died and Pete would’ve wished for something to enact vengeance. But in this life, they got to keep one another. So nothing else mattered; not anymore.

Chapter Text

There was something liberating about laying in a hospital bed cradling someone close to you, Pete thought.

It had taken a long time to convince Ray to fall asleep once they’d arrived at the hospital and after they were admitted and treated with gauze and antibiotics and IV fluids. Ray hadn’t said anything, but his large eyes had bore into Pete and said all the boy needed to.

Why did you save me?

Pete just stared back down at him.

Because I love you.

Ray had refused to let go of him, and Pete likewise. Anybody dumb enough to try had gotten screamed at by one Pete McVries. Ray had sprawled himself over Pete’s chest once they’d settled down in the dim room, his blinks slow and expression confused. Every once in a while he’d get confused and look around, like he didn’t know where they were, but then he’d see Pete beneath him, and feel Pete’s grounding heartbeat, and he’d settle back down.

Pete had cooed soft words and sweet names in his ear until he’d shut his eyes all the way, but then Ray had jerked himself awake with wide eyes. Pete had seen him - and a lot of other boys, himself included - do it while they were walking. But it wasn’t necessary anymore, so Pete just brushed Ray’s hair out of his face and forced his head back down with gentle motions as he ran a hand through Ray’s grimy hair.

He needed to be able to take care of someone; Pete was always one who needed to hold and comfort someone else. And it was blatantly obvious Ray needed comfort at the moment - he’d almost been shot. He’d been ready to lay down on the ground and die for Pete.

Ray had finally fallen asleep when a nurse burst through the door to check on them; Ray was awake in a flash, babbling nonsense and fighting to get off of Pete. It had taken so long to calm him back down, and even longer for Ray to fall back asleep.

The Long Walk had done something to Ray; before all this, Pete was sure Ray would’ve been flirting with the nurse and imploring about when he’d get to leave. Now, he was cowering away from unfamiliar hands and taking in everything as if it was something precious.

But now Ray was asleep again; both of them had IVs in their arms and heart rate monitors strapped to their fingers. Ray’s was in a constant state of unease while Pete’s was content. Both of them were on heavy painkillers, with thick bandages wrapped around their blistered feet and swollen ankles. But Pete would’ve gotten up and kept walking ‘till he hit the end of the earth if it meant Ray would stay content in his arms like he was now.

His mind kept wandering back to the desperate way Ray had shoved his lips against Pete’s; it could’ve been an act of delusion or a marriage proposal. Pete wouldn’t have it any other way, because he had Ray. He could still see the shiny eyes Ray had given him when he’d tried to force him back to his feet. Could still hear the whines of pain and loud, heartwrenching wails Ray had used all his breath on.

Ray snuggled further into his chest, breaking him from that train of thought. Ray’s face wasn’t content and smiley in his sleep like it had been when he’d fallen asleep in Pete’s arms while still on the road, or even all the way back when Pete had held up a sleeping Ray while they were walking that first night. His brows were pinched and his face scrunched up, no matter how many times Pete ran a hand over to face to smooth out the wrinkles. They came back.

Ray made a sleepy sound and his hands came up to clutch at Pete’s dirty jacket. The priority at the moment wasn’t to shower and rid themselves of the sweat-stained clothes. Pete’s priority was Ray. He thinks it might always be.

The door burst open once more and Pete rushed to press a hand to Ray’s back and very gently rock him to keep him content. Ray had startled in his sleep at the sudden sound, but quickly settled back down on Pete’s chest. He sighed, and looked up to see which nurse bothered them this time.

The woman was familiar, but anything but a nurse. This was the woman Pete had had to drag Ray away from. The woman who was the splitting image of the small-looking guy sleeping on his chest.

“I saw the news.” The woman whimpered. “I heard you. I-I owe you everything-”

“He is everything.” Pete rasped, interrupting her. His voice was crackly and terribly broken from so much walking, the dehydration. The screaming he’d done at the Major. “You don’t owe me anything because he’s everything, and I’ve got ‘im right here.”

Ms Garraty chuckled a sob and collapsed in a chair next to the bed after shutting the door to their room. Ray shifted a bit and Pete went back to running a hand through his hair, which soothed him once again.

“You-you saved him when he was trying to get to me.” Ms Garraty said softly, in a heartbroken voice. But she didn’t look like the other parents he’d seen; the parents who’d watched the TV with terror-filled expressions as their sons fell into puddles of their own blood.

“I was always going to save him.” Pete whispered, still in a rasp. “Even when I have nowhere to go, nowhere to be. I’ll go to him.”

Ms Garraty shook her head. “You’ll stay with us, baby. Of course you will. You saved my Ray.” She reached out, her eyes peering at Pete’s as if asking for permission. Despite feeling like it wasn’t his place to say, he nodded all the same and watched her brush a thumb under the dark eyebags adorning her son’s face. “I heard what you said to him.”

Pete froze, worried because he’d said a lot of things to Ray in the last few hours. “Which-” His voice broke. Ms Garraty reached over to the side table and lifted a straw cup to his lips. He sipped the cool water with a sigh, having gotten used to drinking lukewarm water in canteens from the guards. He cleared his throat quietly. “Which thing I said to him?”

“About you loving him.” Ms Garraty commented idly, glancing up when she noticed Pete’s suddenly tense composition. “Oh, baby, no. If I were to choose anyone in the world to love my boy like that, I’d choose you over any girl no matter how pretty.”

Tears welled in his eyes as he took a shuddery breath. “Thank you…” He whispered. Ms Garraty hummed.

“You should sleep.” She said; Pete opened his mouth to protest, but she continued. “I’ll keep watch over you boys. You’ve done so much already. Let me take some of the burden from you.”

Pete just nodded, and settled into the bed, listening to the distant sound of rain that was drowned out by the steady heartbeat laying on his chest. Ray was alive, and that was all that mattered.

Chapter Text

Ray slept through most of the night; he startled a lot, waking himself and Pete up, but he settled into a deep sleep around midnight and stayed that way for the whole time. Or Pete assumed; he himself slept up until 6 am, where he woke up and spotted Ms Garraty nodding off in her chair and watched her fall right to sleep.

At least now, Ray looked a bit more at ease. A bit of drool pooled on Pete’s chest from the other boy’s mouth, and he had somehow managed to curl himself into an even smaller ball, having slightly slid off Pete’s chest and was now pressed against his side instead. He wasn’t squirming unhappily or crying in his sleep; Pete considers this a win.

But, as much as Pete knew Ray needed to sleep, he knew the boy would grow hungry and thirsty as he slept, and it would be so very terrible for him to wake up to a very empty stomach. The both of them hadn’t eaten anything real since that first day. Six days ago, five of which were just spent walking. So, after pressing a kiss to the top of Ray’s head, he gently nudged Ray’s shoulder.

“C’mon, Darlin’. Wake up for me.” He whispered, trying to be mindful of the fact that Ms Garraty had only just fallen asleep a few moments ago. “You’ve gotta be hungry by now. Lord knows I am.”

Ray made a low sound of discomfort, his brows furrowing as he pushed his face further into Pete’s chest. Pete sighed; maybe another hour or two wouldn’t hurt that much. Pete leaned over and grabbed the cup of water that Ms Garraty had handed him earlier and sipped the still-cool liquid. On a limb, he pressed the straw to Ray’s lips and was pleasantly surprised when Ray took a few sips of it before pulling away with smacked lips and shut eyes and tucking himself back where he’d been before.

The door was opened carefully, snapping Pete’s attention towards it. A different nurse than the one from before walked in, this one being a lot more mindful of the three possibly-sleeping people in the room.

“Oh,” She said when Pete caught her eye. “You’re awake. How’re you feeling?”

“Sore.” Pete said, trying not to be defensive when she’d so far been nothing but nice.

“Yeah, I figured.” She pulled the door open wider and dragged in a cart with two trays of steaming pancakes on them. “I didn’t know she was here.” She gestured at Ms Garraty. “I’ll bring another breakfast tray.”

She wheeled the cart to be next to the bed, within Pete’s arms’ reach, then locked the wheels and quickly shuffled away to retrieve another food tray. Pete sat up, slowly but not making too much of an attempt to keep Ray asleep, and pulled one of the trays onto the bed. Both breakfast trays were identical; glasses of orange juice, pieces of bacon and scrambled eggs, a stack of pancakes. A plastic cup of what appeared to be mandarin orange slices, a few small containers of butter and syrup for the pancakes. A fork, spoon, and knife next to the plate.

Pete flinched when he felt Ray shift on his side, the other boy’s face dragging upwards as his eyes blinked open, squinting in the early morning light from the window. He didn’t speak, just stared at Pete with those brown eyes of his. He wasn’t confused, at the very least, like he had been the night before.

“Hey, honey.” Pete murmured. A shiver wracked through Ray as he clutched Pete’s shirt tighter. “Want breakfast? Only the finest for the winners.” He joked.

Ray hummed, only partly acknowledging him. Pete reached over and picked up a piece of bacon, breaking it in half. He passed one of the halves to Ray, who appeared to practically inhale it without chewing before reaching for the second half.

“Don’t eat so fast; you’ll choke, or make yourself sick.” Pete tisked. Ray whimpered when Pete blocked his half-hearted attempts to grab for the food on the tray, and Pete could feel the grumbling vibrations of both of their stomachs - protesting at the smell of food being so close and yet not enough of it being in their stomachs. He broke the second half of the piece of bacon into smaller bites and fed them to Ray slowly. He picked up another piece of bacon and ate it himself, then picked up the spoon and scooped up a mouthful of the scrambled eggs. He alternated between feeding himself and feeding Ray, who showed no ability to feed himself without inhaling everything and making himself sick in the process. 

Ray kept casting longing glances at his mom, who stayed asleep through the whole slow-going process, and Pete ignored the small seed of jealousy that forced its way into his gut. He started cutting the pancakes to distract himself and, again, alternated between feeding himself and spoon-feeding Ray. It made him feel good to do this. It made him feel special to be able to sit here with the prettiest boy in the world and feed him fluffy pancakes lathered in butter.

They both started slowing down once the first tray was empty and Pete had put it back, replacing it with the second one. The nice nurse came back to place a fresh tray with a plastic food dome over it to keep it warm on the chair next to Ms Garraty. She checked their vitals quickly and silently, then changed the bandages on Pete’s feet and legs. When she reached to do it for Ray too, he flinched and curled up against Pete.

“It’s okay, Darlin’.” Pete whispered placatingly, and ran a hand through Ray’s hair until the boy relaxed and let the nurse clean up his bandages. She left shortly thereafter, most certainly sensing the discomfort Ray was feeling by her presence.

When Pete was confident Ray wouldn’t try to swallow the food like a snake (whole and, if applicable, still alive) he let Ray sip from one of the glasses of orange juice by himself and scoop his own mandarin oranges into his mouth.

Ray curled back into Pete’s side once he was finished, squirming slightly. Pete nudged him to go to the bathroom, but Ray moaned unhappily, clutching Pete’s shirt again. Pete pressed the call button for the nurse, who returned in record time.

“Can we shower?” He asked, the addition of food in his stomach making him sound more awake and alive than before. 

The nurse brightened. “Of course. I’ll grab towels and fresh clothes. I’ll change the sheets, too. Try not to stand too much, though.”

Pete nodded and, once she returned with the aforementioned things and disconnected them from the monitors and IVs, sat up in bed with a groan. Ray didn’t make any attempt to move, watching Pete sit up and swing his legs over the bed. When Pete stood, he nearly cried. The soles of his feet didn’t hurt too much with the pain medicine and healing salve, but boy was he sore.

He could stand, though. And that was something. He had to help Ray to his feet, and even then, he was all-but carrying him.

The bathroom was spacious and white - they both looked very out of place in their dirty clothes, standing in the center of it. Pete set the towels and clothes on the sink counter while Ray used the toilet, then started up the hot water and shed his clothes - Ray did the same and they stepped in together.

The process was purely chaste; Pete washed both of their hair with the shampoo that was on the counter and then had to help Ray run his hands through his long, matted hair with conditioner to detangle it. They both scrubbed themselves - gently, obviously - with body wash all while sitting on the floor of the shower as previously instructed by the nurse.

Even after they were clean, they still just sat together under the spray. Ray had wedged himself into one of the corners in the large shower while Pete was sitting directly under the running water. They got out after that, drying themselves off while sitting on one of the little marble benches in the bathroom. They had to help one another shimmy into the clothes the nurse had given them; the bandages on their feet and quickly-fatiguing muscles made it difficult to do alone, but they persisted.

Once exiting the bathroom, Pete noted with a spike of unexpected joy that the nurse had given them a lot more pillows and blankets - all clean - than they’d had last time and changed the sheets while they were showering. Ray crawled into the bed first, and Pete followed, though Ray still wiggled until he was more on top of Pete than next to him. 

“Better?” Pete asked; Ray hummed, sighed contently as he placed his head down on Pete’s chest. This, Pete decided, was what he had walked five days to get. Just being here, laying down in bed freshly-showered with Ray laying next to (on top of) him, food in their bellies - it was worth every step, and he’d do it all again in a heartbeat.

Ray wasn’t asleep again just yet; Pete could tell because Ray was wringing his hands together in Pete’s shirt, even if his eyes were closed and he was boneless. Pete pressed a kiss to Ray’s head and felt him tense up. Pete, in turn, tensed and shifted a little bit away.

“Sorry.” He said, but when Ray looked up, he was pouting. He leaned closer, and Pete could feel Ray’s breath near his lips. Ray’s eyes were still open as he leaned in, climbing up the bed to be closer to Pete’s face. “Are you sure?” Pete whispered, just to hear (and feel) a huff from Ray and then they were kissing. It wasn’t messy, sloppy, like the kisses boys had run off to give passing pretty girls on the walk. This one was slow and surface-level, chaste and relieving and everything good.

Ray hummed softly into the kiss, but it was him who eventually pulled away. Pete kept up the eye contact they had once they both had opened their eyes again; Ray looked happier, brighter than Pete had ever seen him. He still didn’t say anything, but Pete thinks his eyes could say a thousand words.

“Good?” Pete asked him. Ray didn’t answer, just laid his head back on Pete’s chest and shut his eyes.

Chapter Text

Ray jerked awake to the feeling of Pete shaking him. His feet were moving, but he couldn’t feel them. There was rain splattering onto his head, but he couldn’t feel it. He was walking, next to Pete, and Pete was talking, but Ray couldn’t fucking hear him.

“No…” Ray whispers, freezing in place despite the harsh bark of a warning from a nearby soldier. “Fuck-” It’d all been a fucking dream. He pinched his arm. Nothing happened. “Stop-”

“Garraty?” Pete turned around, walking backwards, grabbing for Ray’s arm and dragging him along. His voice sounded strained, different. “C’mon, man. Head outta the clouds.” Ray forced himself to put one foot in front of the other. “What were ya’ dreamin’ about?”

“Dreaming…?” Ray rasps in a whisper. What had happened certainly hadn’t felt like a dream. Falling, Pete picking him up. Walking, falling, a gun aimed at his brain. Pete’s desperate shrieks for Ray to live. The hospital, the goddamn pancakes that Pete had fed him. Showering, kissing. That was all real.

So why the fuck was he still walking?
“You’ve been noddin’ off since Curley got out. You feelin’ okay?” Pete reached over and felt Ray’s forehead, and Ray only just noticed the number of people around them. It was the first day; nowhere near the end. He was so confused; nothing made sense. The fields beyond the road were fuzzy and he felt eyes watching him but when he glanced around everyone was talking to other people. He couldn’t find Olson, or Art, or Stebbins, or Barkovitch, or anyone he knew; just faceless figures.

“No, I…” Ray denied, his voice failing him. He couldn’t tell what time it was; it felt like the sky was moving faster than his eyes could process. It wasn’t raining, even though he could’ve sworn it had been just a moment ago. “What’s…”

“Garraty, you’re gettin’ all mixed up. You take somethin’ ‘fore all this?” Pete joked flatly. Ray frowned and shook his head. It felt like he was speeding up, walking faster than the three miles per hour limit. He heard a loud bang and flinched.

“Who wass’it?” He asked, looking around but seeing no fallen bodies or blood splatters. He couldn’t even see any soldiers around. Just faces and feet, trotting along at what felt more like five miles per hour.

“Just a door, Ray Garraty.” Pete answered, which made no sense.

“Huh?”

“Just a door, Ray Garraty.” Pete repeated, turning around and, while walking backwards, grabbing him by his shoulders. “Keep walkin’.” His voice was wrong wrong wrong.

“I am?”

“No, walk faster. Keep walking. Or you’re gonna get a ticket.” His feet were burning, even though it couldn't have been more than a few hours since they’d started. They were going up a hill. It was dark, but somehow he and Pete were illuminated by an unseen force. There was a trickle coming from the sky, and yet his clothes were already soaked through. His stomach twisted.

“I c-can’t-” Ray stuttered out, because it felt like they were walking directly up a wall. He can’t remember when he started, but he was crying now. There were no faceless figures around them; just him and Pete and the Walk.

“You gotta see your momma, Garraty. Keep walking.” Pete ordered, still gripping his shoulders and practically dragging him along up the steep hill. There were soldiers around them, stalking closer with guns aimed at Ray’s chest.

“I am walking.” Ray insisted, feeling his heart beating out of his chest.

“No, your pacing.” 

“I’m walking.”

“You’re sitting!” Pete snapped, even though Ray could feel the burn of his legs as he kept walking. He shivered and shook and stumbled along the road. Pete grabbed him by his collar and kept dragging him. He felt a presence next to him and turned to see it was Barkovitch. There was blood dripping down his neck and he was making these terrible gasping sounds, splattering blood all over Ray’s clothes.

“Garraty!” Somebody screamed distantly. It sounded like Pete, it sounded like dad. It sounded like maybe God had descended from the Heavens to force him to walk forever even though he felt like his legs were gonna fall off if he kept going.

There was another distant bang; Ray flinched so hard his legs crumpled and he ended up on the pavement. He yanked his body from Pete’s hold and sobbed into his hands. Nothing was making sense and his heart was beating so fast and there was a strange beeping that he thinks is coming from his watch and the soldiers were getting closer and closer and their guns were raised to his chest but it wasn’t a killshot so they’d leave him to slowly bleed out right there where he was and he’d never see him momma or Pete ever-

~~~

Pete woke up to Ray shifting. He doesn’t remember falling asleep; he remembers watching Ray settle back down into a light doze, and most likely following shortly thereafter. But now he’s awake again, and it’s dark outside, so the both of them must’ve slept through the whole rest of the day. Ms Garraty is gone, and so is the breakfast tray that the nurse had left for her earlier.

He glances down at Ray a bit sleepily; Ray had stilled again, but suddenly he started wiggling to get out of Pete’s hold. Confused, Pete let him go, and Ray slid off the bed and started to pace around the room. His eyes were still shut; he was talking.

“No-” Pete could hear Ray say. “Fuck- stop-” His voice was wrecked, and he sounded terrified as he paced the room in a frenzied circle. “Dreaming…?”

Despite his own sore limbs, Pete climbed out of bed and tried to catch Ray’s sleepwalking form unsuccessfully.

“No, I…what’s…” Ray was still murmuring in that absolutely destroyed voice of his. A door shut somewhere outside of their room and Ray flinched so hard he almost ran into a wall. “Who wass’it?”

It wasn’t hard to guess what he was dreaming about.

“Just a door…” Pete told him, and Ray’s eyebrows furrowed despite his eyes still being shut.

“Huh?”

“Just a door.” Pete repeated, catching Ray by the shoulders and rubbing his hands up and down Ray’s arms. 

“I am?” Ray whimpered, trying to twist himself out of Pete’s hold. He was making these huffing sounds that might be coughs. “I c-can’t-” He gagged, and Pete winced but didn’t move.

“Ray, wake up.” Pete said softly but firmly, trying to gently shake Ray awake. Ray flinched.

“I am walking.” He insisted in his sleep, trying to shy away from Pete’s hands. “I’m walking!” He cried.

“Ray!” Pete continued; there was another slam of a door somewhere far away and Ray’s knees buckled where he stood. It knocked off both of their heartrate monitors when Pete went down with Ray to keep him from hitting his head on the ground. The machines started beeping very loudly and Ray started making gurgling sounds, coughing and sobbing but still asleep. A nurse barged in; a few of them did, actually, but Pete shouted at them to stay back as he continued trying to rouse Ray.

“‘M going- coming- stop-” Whatever Ray was trying to say sounded like mindless, panicked gibberish between whimpering sounds. They were high-pitched and crackly.

“Darlin’, c’mon, wake up.” Pete insisted in a shaky breath with tears of his own clouding his vision. He could see the barrage of nurses shifting nervously, obviously waiting for their signal to be allowed to help. By some miracle, Ray started blinking beneath his shut eyelids. “That’s it,” Pete encouraged. “Wake up for me.”

Ray’s eyes snapped open, tears falling from his eyes and getting caught on his lashes. But he was awake now, and Pete had him.