The ground was rough and uncomfortable, with a web of roots pressing uncomfortably into his skin, but Chris would be fucked if he was going to do anything about it. He was strangely at peace right now, with sounds tottering in and out of the edges of his perception along with varying amounts of pain. There was a crackling fire that Ray had started at the entrance of their little hole in the ground, and Ray himself was talking about something that Chris really was trying his best to pay attention to.

“I joined the army when I was a few years younger than yourself I think. Never deployed though, I made myself too useful with those computers all those brainiacs had started making at the time.” Chris’ vision faded around the edges as he stared past the smoke as it twirled upwards. Night had fallen at some point, he couldn’t remember when even though he distinctly remembered watching this same spot for hours. “Yeah, shooting wasn’t for me, not really. Too scared I think. Made some friends who shipped out though. Can’t honestly remember which one it was. I guess you think I’m strange for that huh?”

Chris shook his head mutely. Ray was the least strange person out of the three he had ever met. Who had he killed to make it in here? Chris wondered. He wouldn’t ask though. It didn’t really matter.

“Well some of them made it back, others didn’t, same story as a lot of people. I tried not to get too sad about it. They were sad enough, some of them too sad. Some of them even died from it.” The smell of roasting meat tickled Chris' nose as Ray shuffled closer. “Here, can you take this?”

Chris grabbed for the stick Ray passed to him. It was still warm from the fire, but not uncomfortably so. It’s rough surface was coated in grease, but Chris was never particularly bothered by things of that nature. He bit deep into the flesh and almost gagged. He had never known something could be so utterly devoid of flavour before now. “It’s disgusting.” He mouthed around the bits he forced down his throat.

Ray just laughed, “Yeah, yeah it is. Tastes better than hunger though doesn’t it?”

“Tastes better than dying.” Chris downed another bite. “It’s fucking bad though.”

“What did you do before…” Ray waved vaguely around him.

“Nothing.” Chris said. “I did nothing.” The walls he had put up, and strengthened through years of solitude cracked just a little. “I was nobody before…” He waved with the hunk of meat, “ all this.” And then they fell and he was crying once again. “And I’ll probably die nobody as well. Just some fat fucking loser at the bottom of some hole whose one accomplishment over his entire fucking life was to live longer than he fucking should have.”

A gentle hand rested on his shoulder. Chris waited for Ray to say something, but no words came. The old man just sat next to him.

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“My mom used to beat me.” Chris sobbed. “Over little things. I heard curse words on TV. Said them without knowing what they meant. She knocked four teeth out of my head. When I cried that night because of the pain she came in and beat me until my throat was so raw I couldn’t even make noise if I wanted to.”

“Jesus kid…”

“She was big on him too. Everytime we spoke was a lecture on God's mercy, even if she had to take a roundabout way to get there. How I should be thankful God even let me live seeing how shit I ended up being.” Chris felt numb. He was covered in all kinds of bruises and bites. His shoulder had started bleeding again too. But it felt distant, like the pain was music on the other side of a cotton wall.

“You’ve had it rough.” Ray patted his shoulder. “I won’t lie to you either, it’s only gonna get rougher. You might have been a rock bottom before, but I think wherever we got put, there is no lowest point. Here, this forest with all these fucked up animals, I think you could keep looking for a thousand years and keep finding worse ways to die, and definitely find shittier ways to live.” Their eyes met, each reflecting the light of their small fire. “You said before that all you did was live longer than you should have. Everyone everywhere is only ever living on borrowed time, there is nobody who should live and nobody who should die. There’s just those who died and those who haven’t. So son, cry as much as you want, as much as you can. But always remember that no matter how bad it gets you’re still one of the lucky ones. So cry clarion and live on for the sake of all those who couldn’t, and never ever lose sight of tomorrow. It’s going to be shit, it might even be hell or worse. But you’ll be there and that’s enough. It has to be enough.”

Ray took his hat off, and slapped it onto Chris’ head. Shuffling it so the brim went just over his eyes. Such a damn hypocrite, Chris thought as he felt Ray shake with his own tears, telling me to cry and then hiding his own. But Chris didn’t move the hat.

Later that night Ray tore his shirt into strips along with the parts of Chris’ that were relatively clean. He bound the cuts and bruises on both their bodies as best he could, but he was no doctor and the materials were shit when looked at in even the most positive light. As he toiled he kept talking, in low, stable tones that soothed the ears. “I’d been wanting to say those words for years ya know. Practiced it in my sleep. Sometimes involuntarily. I’d meant to say them to one of those friends who came back. Never got the chance. He’d decided he’d rather have a short conversation with Smith and Wesson rather than me. And from what little I knew of what he’d seen, I didn’t blame him. No one did.” Ray pulled the last of the bandages tight, “It just always bothered me, that I never got to say it. Maybe it’s just fool’s pride, but I was always like ‘What if those words coulda saved him?’ I don’t really think they could have, but I didn’t know and that, that’s awful. Not knowing if you could have done anything, that’ll kill ya if you let it.”

“We’re going to have to get moving again aren’t we.” Chris whined, still inept in social graces. A dark part of his mind was already whispering that they were dead, both of them just dead men who hadn’t fallen down yet. You didn’t just walk off the injuries he had, and Ray was too old to survive this place. But if Chris was good at anything it was repression and he buries that voice deep.

“Yeah, we can sleep here tonight, but we’re gonna have to find water soon, real soon.” Ray sighed and pulled himself over to a relatively clear spot on the ground. “But that’s tomorrow’s problem, and we’ve been through enough today.”

Far from needing anymore permission, Chris crashed into a deep, dreamless sleep.