Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Let the rain pour. Let it seep into the cracked alleyways and broken sidewalks. Let the rain pool into black puddles that mirror the night sky. Let it pool into reflections of the harsh city lights. Watch the rain wash away the grime. Watch the rain steal away the warmth of the earth. Listen to the rain splatter and rattle the window panes. Taste the bitter purity of it. Feel it under your tongue as it enters your blood. Smell the rain as it marries the smoke and oil, and rust of the day. See the rain glow like radiant suns as it burns the wounds of the poor. Feel the coldness of its winter drip underneath your skin. Let it rain…

It burns. I throw the cigarette to the ground instinctively. Fuck; zoned out again. I look skyward and let the rain soothe my burnt lip. Where am I again? A neon sign reading, “Donovons'' stares back at me. Right, I’m in Granville. I take a deep breath and let the world come fading back in all its unpleasantness. How blissful it was to not have my senses assault me for a brief moment. The glare, the racket— the smell. I cringe and gasp and tear at my face. NO, don’t let the memories come back! Remember why you’re here!

Why am I here? I didn’t take the case this time. Didn’t even bother to take the extra money. That’s gonna come back to bite me in the ass. I walk aimlessly ahead, trying to remember. The greaser is where he should be—listening to his music. What was the band that Larry and I listened to in college? I don’t remember. I’m here for Larry this time; that is all that matters.

I walk by the theater and by Anatoly and I try my best not to scream.  I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Anatoly. I walk past him without a word or a look in his direction. Walk by like he’s nothing...that’s all he is to you, right? I bite my lip hard, amplifying the pain of the burn. I do not flinch.

As I pass The Bite, I think of Renee. She’s in there still blessed with the ignorance of never having met me. She’s in there waiting for me—but I will never arrive. She can not miss what she never knew.

His corpse waits for you inside too. I bite my lip even harder; it begins to drip with blood. So much blood in that little room. So much you could smell the iron in the air. I let the rain wash away the blood. It stings but the pain drives away the smell. Don’t focus on the pain. Don’t focus on the smell.

I arrive at the alley, and I am greeted by the scent of vomit, of rotting trash, and of thrown away people…

I see Larry. He has not seen me. I watched him for a moment. The wind brushes against his fur like bristles to a canvas. His scarf is spotted with drops of moisture. Larry shivers so softly; there is a drowning sadness in his eyes. He is thin and weary, yet he stands firm like the mossy concrete statues of great men. Larry is beautiful and he is forgotten.

I want Larry to be real. I need him to be real.

I scuffle forward. I ignore the two other men in the alley. Like the rest of the people of this city do. Like they ignore Larry.  

     I approach. I don't know what I will say to him or what I will do. I choke down another scream. 

Larry tilts his head upwards instinctively to see who nears. There is a glitter of realization in his eyes.

"Howard…?"

I hug him before he can say another word.

"I missed you, Larry."

That was the right thing to do.

He smells of sweat and soil and of a herbal stench.

“People don't change, Larry”

SHUT UP!

You didn't even apologize…

I remember the pain in his voice, it's cracking.

''I tried to quit…"

And you stood there and said nothing.

SHUT THE FUCK UP!

"Don't explain things to me, Howard."

"I missed you, Larry," I say again as I hug Larry tightly but tenderly around his chest and waist. I lean down to rest my head upon the crook of his neck. Larry does not flinch.

"What are you doing out here?" I say in my best concerned voice. I can not tell if I sound genuine or dry. He does not react.

Several seconds pass, and I straighten myself and start to lean my weight into the hug. Without thinking of the consequences, I placed my hand upon the back of his head; letting him rest upon my chest. Larry returns the hug and lays his weight for me to bear.

 For a moment, I am truly happy. And I can only hope that Larry was happy too. 

  The gentle but firm pressure of the hug was unimaginably soothing.

I do not remember the last time I was hugged. Or even hugged someone.

The mist of the rain kisses the edge of my nose. This great warmth bids me to drift into thoughtless sleep. For this reality is already a blessed dream.

Larry shifts slightly. I hear him sniffle. I pull back from the hug slowly.

"What's wrong, Larry?"

I look him into the eyes; they are filled with tears.

"Why did you do that?" Larry chokes out.

" I already told you, I missed you. I'm sorry if I crossed a line"

I fucked up again.

"You're fine, just give me a moment. Oh, Shepard…"

Larry wipes away his tears quickly with his scarf. His eyes are shifting rapidly; taking deep breaths.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked.

I already know the answer.

"I haven't been doing so well...are you still doing your detective gig?"

He's deflecting from himself.

"Yes, but right now I'm just hanging out. Taking a break from cases."

"Yeah? That doesn't seem like something you'd do." Larry remarked, widening his eyes.

"Well, I am tonight" I put on my best annoyed voice, not enough to belittle Larry but enough to sound offended.

Two can play this deflection game, Larry.

"Oh, alright" Larry sinks a bit. Looking embarrassed.

"How is your gig doing?" What a cruel question.

"Oh, it failed awhile back," Larry mutters.

He looks broken. It’s all my fault.

“My business isn’t doing too well either. I’m pretty short on money right now.”

“Ah shit, sorry to hear that, Howard”

"So, do you live here?"

"No, no, I live near-"

"The bridge right?" I interrupt.

"How did you?-yes, I do." Larry looked bewildered and many emotions showed on his face. He is at his most vulnerable.

"Hey lemme help you out, would you like to spend the night at my place?" Straight for the kill.

Larry's face straightened and he looked me directly in the eye.

"What?" He stutters.

"I would like to spend the night with your company, catch up. You look mighty cold, Larry. Come sleep at my place"

I look back into his eyes with an unwavering and steely stare.

He flinches.

“Let’s get out of here” I grab Larry’s arm and gently tug.

“Why are you doing this?” Larry asks bluntly.

‘ Why do you think I'm doing this? ’ No, I can’t ask that. Too confrontational.

“Because I care about you.” I say with no emotion.

If you cared about him you wouldn't have left him.

SHUT UP!

I breathe in and exhale slowly looking away for a moment.

My lungs hurt..remember when they were filled with blood?

I face Larry again and his eyes dart across my face and body.

Studying me.

I’m going to help you whether you like it or not, asshole...Why am I like this?

There are two other men in this alley. One sitting by a dumpster and another throwing up a couple of meters behind me. That scene of uncensored emotion got their attention. The dumpster man was now intently listening: the other man stared for a while before vomiting again. I break my gaze with Larry to look at them. That makes Larry acknowledge them as well.

 “Let’s talk more at our place”

Our? Was that a slip or just a mind squeeze?

“Ok, If that’s what you want to do, then let’s do it. Howard.” Larry nods, but his eyes are cold. I led him out the alley with the uneasy weight of the unknown upon me.

The known and the unknown are at an equal standstill.

Time branches forward.

The dumpster man looks disappointed but not any sadder than he already was. 

I wonder if I managed to change that man’s fate...but also could've hindered my progress by having more witnesses to my actions.

I brush it off and keep walking.

This night is about Larry, I'll worry about the future tomorrow.

I lock my arms with Larry's though I'd very much rather be holding his hand. 

That would be too weird to attempt now.

As I walk with Larry I try to extend this moment of bliss for as long as possible. Unfortunately, my senses came back to invade my mind in full force. I'm suddenly uncomfortably aware of my entire body and surroundings.

This part of the city smells like piss. My ears are so itchy. My feet hurt. I feel sweaty and cold at the same time. Why am I so ugly? Everyone is staring at us.

I forgot about Florence!

I quickly stop walking and Larry bumps into my shoulder.

“Are you okay, Howie?”

I stare back into the valley, she’s still standing there waiting for answers.

I need to tell her about what happened to her daughter. 

I regain control of my thoughts. I focus on my mental checklist and add more tasks to it.

Going straight home was a bad idea, I still have fates to change. I’ll save Florence for last, I don't think I can handle a grieving mother at the moment. My mind is weak and my emotions are too erratic. You’ll have to wait a little while longer as I regain my strength, Florence, I’m sorry.

“It’s nothing, Larry. I just remembered I had several things I wanted to do here before we head home. Is that alright with you?” I make eye contact with him and lean in closer.

“Not like I have anywhere else to be, man,” Larry says coyly.

“Alright, let me show you the way.” I dragged him along without guilt.

Larry should eat first at least. But where?

There was a bar located further back in the alley. No, I don't want to walk by Florence so callously. Maybe Foxy-Burger? No, I want to talk with him immediately in privacy.

I take in my surroundings once more and wince slightly at the sensory pain. I see the fish cart up ahead. I have my mind made up immediately. 

I could cook fish head soup for Larry. It's nicer than food from Kweek-o-mart. And fewer potential witnesses. 

Wait, the Kweek-o-mart, I need to get an umbrella to protect Larry out from the rain.

I can feel Larry shivering next to me.

"Where are we going, Howard?"

I snap out of my thoughts.

“Uhh, I gotta...get something from Kweek-o-mart.”

I face Larry. 

“Here, wear this for now.”

I take off my trench coat in one swift movement. Drops of rain slide off its cotton fabric and new droplets begin to form stains on my vest. 

“I zone out sometimes so I forgot to give this to you.”

“Howard, you don't have to…”

I ignore Larry and sling the coat myself across his shoulders. The coat looks massive on him. The ends are almost touching the floor. 

“I’m going to buy us an umbrella for the rain.”

Larry stares down at the ground and his eyes dart around in pacing contemplation.

“Alright,” Larry says in a breathy whisper. He wraps the coat around him like a blanket. His movements look uncertain.

Discomfort. The opposite of what I wanted him to feel. 

I bite my lip at the thought and I accept the increased pain from the burn as punishment.

I place my arm around Larry’s shoulder and start walking. His body eases up and his face is at a neutral state.

That’s good. He’s not repulsed by me. Yet.

“I know what I’m doing is confusing to you. The things I need to explain to you will make you think I'm crazy.-so I need to show you them instead”

I don’t look at Larry. I’m afraid that his face will reveal what he feels about me.

After a short pause I continue, “After all, seeing is believing.”

Where have I heard that before? I don’t remember. Too cold. Focus on Larry.

I look at him this time. He’s staring back at me with those sad little eyes. I flinch.

“I know you deserve answers. I know I'm acting strange but it feels natural to me. It’ll all make sense later”

“It’s okay, Howie. Don’t stress yourself out. I’m fine with whatever this is. It’s just that.. I’ve only ever seen you act this way towards one other person.”

“What do you mean?” My eyes widen and my fingers start to twitch rapidly as I await the answer.

Shit.Shit. SHIT.

“Howard, you're shivering.” Larry stops walking and faces me. 

“It’s too cold for you to be walking around without your jacket.

Larry takes off the coat slowly and hands it back to me. 

“Look, I appreciate it, Howie, but I'm already dressed for cold weather.” He tugs at his scarf and gloves. 

“You’re the one who really needs that jacket. You’ll get sick walking around like that.”

Larry looks into my eyes. I look away. 

Stop looking at me like that, you stupid bitch.

“I can take care of myself...and I need you to take care of yourself too.” He places the coat gently on my chest and I reluctantly grab it. 

“I hear you.” I nod and gain enough strength to look back into his eyes. Larry has a faint smile with a clear warmth to it. I smile back and almost cry.

'There is no way you can help me'

“But I’m still getting us an umbrella, ya little shit” I snark and bump him on the shoulder. The tears fade away with the rain.

Larry only reacts by giving the same faint smile.

I put on my coat quickly and grabbed his shoulder again. Returning our stride.

“It’s just I didn’t treat you right before. I want to fix that.”

Larry begins to speak but I cut him off.

“Hold that thought, we have to walk past Downey. Let me take care of him and keep your head down.”

“You know Downey?

“Yeah, he’s my-”

I don’t remember. Is he my brother? A friend of my mother? Why can’t I remember?

“Shut up,” I say. Larry flinches but I don’t care.

I approach the police booth without worry, without stress, and with utmost resolution.

“Hello, Downey,” I say before he can see me.

Downey's head snaps towards me. The shock in his face slips away when he sees me.

“Heyo boyo, got yourself a job yet?”

“Of course.”

“And what is it, my boy?” Downey notices Larry and frowns.

“And who is that?”

“Detective. My partner.” I have no emotion in my voice and I stare behind Downey’s face.

That's how it should've been from the start. Me and him, having a detective agency together. I will regret that forever.

“Must not be making a lot of money If he’s dressed like that. He looks like a street roach” Downey points at Larry.

“It helps to have one of us wearing a disguise.” I pat Larry’s shoulder.

I’d punch you if you weren't a cop, Downey.

Larry doesn’t react to what Downey said. He only leans closer to me. 

“Well, it certainly fooled me. And how’s your mother doing? Have you called her yet?”

“Yes, right before I came here.” I did. I told her I loved her. I told her I'd see her soon. I lied about that last part. 

“Liar, I called her this morning! You haven't called in weeks!” 

I knew he'd say that.

“I like your new honor badge by the way. Shiny.” I force out.

‘That’s what Lydia said too. She does love me. Maybe too much.”

“Poor Lydia,” I say, tossing a single loon towards him. I walk away dragging Larry along with me.

I hear Downey say, “Wait, what?!” as I enter Kweek-o-mart.

A rush of cool air chills the soaked spots on my clothes as I open the door.

“Onur! How’s business?” I call out with a forced cheerful voice. 

Old Onur stands behind a cluttered counter. He beams a smile of genuine happiness. 

“Howard? I haven't seen you in a while. You’ve grown so much.”

I hadn't grown at all and it wasn't that long ago; it was only a couple of weeks.

Larry stands behind me; his head barely poking out from my side.

“Oh, and that must be little Larry.” Onur’s voice is warm.

“I have some more expired noodles if that’s what you’re here for.” Onur starts reaching under the counter but Larry juts in.

“Not this time Onur. We're actually here to get an umbrella.”

Larry leans on me a bit, hiding his face.

“We’re gonna look around a bit,” I say heading straight for the food section.

“I’ll be here if you need me,” Onur murmurs as Larry follows closely behind. 

I notice now how soft his footsteps are. I glance down at Larry’s feet. He is wearing black boots. They have no soles. They are likely made of cheap starch plastic and cotton. Meant for the cold. 

Are they his only pair? I’ll figure that out later. 

I stop at the spices section. Salt is not present. A small sign is where the salt should be. It reads, ‘Salt Prices Up. Ask At Counter To Buy’. 

“Fuck, they’re out,” I mutter under my breath.

“Y’know I don’t even think about buying salt anymore, we just make the stuff from boiling dandelion roots,” Larry added.

 “The Apes are likely hoarding it. The expeditions only brought back enough for them.” I huffed.

Do I have any salt left at home? Can I even afford to buy any? 

I brush off the thought and reach for a small bag of peppercorns. I grab onion powder, ground cloves, and four dried chilies.

“The produce here is so sad. It makes me miss our garden.” Larry mumbled while inspecting a rotten onion.

“Uh-huh” 

I have the other seasonings at home. I think.

When I look back over to Larry he looks dispirited. He wouldn’t know that I already know that. I’m being too casual around him. 

I pat him on the back and try to move on.

I look over to the fresh produce section and I hesitate for a moment.

Fuck it.

 I grab a single tomato, a leek, and a small potato.

I’ll splurge just this once for Larry.

“Whoa, whatcha getting all that for?”

“For you.”

“You don't have to”

“I want to… You’re worth it, Larry.”

Larry covers his face with his hand, seemingly embarrassed.

“Ah geez, just don’t end up spending all your money. You’ll end up like me.”

“Well if that happens I can just come live with you, right?”

  “I sure as hell hope it doesn't, but yeah, you could crash in my tent.”

Right now I am missing his tent. Missing its salvation. I remember Larry sleeping on the floor. How cute he looked wrapped up in the covers.

I pat Larry on the back and we make our way back to the counter. A black umbrella sits waiting upon it. 

“We had a couple of the used umbrellas left. Won’t cost but three loons”. Onur says as he starts totaling the price of my items before I even put them down.

“Do you have any salt left?” I hear my voice sound cold so I quickly smile so I don’t seem rude.

I need to practice my voice tones again.

“Just a little bit left.” Onur grabs a pouch behind him. It was the size of his palm and looked quite empty.

“How much for ten grams?” 

Barely enough for the broth. 

“At the current price, about 100 loons,” Onur says, wincing.

WHAT THE FUCK.

“I think I’ll be fine.” I wave my hand away. 

Onur put the salt away before I finished the sentence. As if he’s done this enough times to already know the answer.

“How much for all this then?” I gesture towards our small pile of goods and the umbrella

“20 loons exactly.”  Still Expensive.

I pull out two grebe bills and hand them to Onur and I bag the items myself. 

“Y’know, If you need me too, I can sabotage yumi-mart’s supply lines.”

I remarked jokingly, knowing that if he were to take up my offer I would enact it in a heartbeat.

“Those pearl suits will take over the entire city in a couple of years. I won’t let them take my store until I’m dead or bankrupt, which is likely to happen at the same time.” Onur chuckles.

“I’ll see you later, Onur” I lied. 

“You boys take care of yourselves. Especially you Larry.”

Larry gives him a slight nod before leaving the store ahead of me.

I open the umbrella with a single rusted creak. I hold it over Larry’s head. The rain makes a pleasant splattering sound upon it. 

“I’m sorry. That must have been uncomfortable for you.” 

“I followed you in. If it really bothered me, I would’ve just waited outside. It was nice though. Besides, your friend said worse.”

I open my mouth to speak again but Larry interjects, “We all have our sins to carry. The weak unburden themselves by sharing their weight freely.”

“Where'd you hear that?”

“I made it up,” Larry shrugged.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. 

“I can carry yours for a while if you’d like.” I switch the umbrella into my other hand and grab Larry by the waist. I lean him onto me.

“Heh, I would, but uhh...we both know you’re not that strong,” Larry said while squeezing my bicep.

“And you are?” I snide.

“I’m stronger than you at least,” he says as if it were commonly accepted knowledge.

I keep my arm around his waist and squeeze looking into his eyes for a moment. He flinches.

“I don’t remember you being this grabby, Howie.” 

“Maybe, I’m just trying to keep you warm.”

“Well if you make me sweat you’ll just make me colder.”

“Ah shit, you're right.” 

I backed off a bit. Larry seemed to appreciate it.

I need to stop making it obvious that I'm touch starved.

“I have one more thing to show you, it’s a bit further to the right.”

“What?” Larry said as he was experiencing the most confusing moment in his life so far.

“I meant further down the street.”

I continue,” I can't say it outright, but I’ll try to show you what I mean.”

“Or you can just tell me-”

‘You’ll see, Larry. Right now we have some nuts to eat.” I say strutting forward.

Larry just stares ahead, slightly annoyed but curious.

Feels like someone scraped my eyes with sandpaper. I want to break every light bulb in this city. So bright. Burning like worms under my skin. My mind is immortal but my body is rotting. How long until I'm trapped in my own mind? Unable to feel? Unable to hear the crickets burying themselves into my sockets? How will it smell when there’s nothing left to decay? How will I know when there’s nothing left to chew, to spit, to curse at? What remains will not be me. Even now I cannot escape death.

Larry bumps into me. He’s as close as he can be without us tripping over each other.  

“Y’know we can share the umbrella right?” 

Fuck, I zoned out again.

The fur on my face is soaked with cool water. Though it was more calming than freezing at the moment.

Focus on the water. Don’t zone out again.

“Maybe I just like getting wet. You never wanted to just stand out in the rain as a kid?”

“No. I wasn’t a queer kid,” said Larry as he pulls out a piece of pink cloth from his sweater. 

“Here, dry yourself.”

I grab the cloth and begin wiping over my eyes and then my nose. I sniff it briefly to not get Larry’s attention. Ignoring my scent, the square cloth has a pleasant smell. It smelt of flowers, specifically yarrow oil. It smells like Larry.

Focus on this scent when the memories come back.

I place the cloth onto the bridge of Larry’s snout. 

Before Larry can react I yell out, “Dirty Laundry!” 

Larry takes off the cloth, amused. “That’s not how the game works. You don’t even have a ball!” 

I made him smile again. That’s all that matters. 

My face is still wet but I ignore it. I couldn't see his cute smile if I slapped a wet handkerchief on his face, could I?

Sid is ahead as predicted. My sense of time seems to have some cohesion left and I can track it unconsciously. How? Not important right now. 

We’re at a comfortable distance from Sid before he notices us. There are plenty of ways that I can start off this interaction. All I need to do is prove to Larry that I'm stuck in a time loop. But how do you prove that unless you’ve exhausted every possibility to the point that you have become omnipresent? I can only sow seeds of certainty in him. In time he will trust me enough to believe me. If he ever trusts me.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a single loon. I focus all my energy on my sight and the muscles in my arm. The rain is a haze fighting against me. After a moment of intense concentration, I fling the coin at my target. The coin flutters through the air like an evening Grosbeak; following a golden arch. With a reverberating ping, the coin bounces off the umbrella pole on Sid’s cart, landing perfectly into a small wooden cup.

Before Sid can process what happened, I dash into the scene.

“Your name is Sidwell, right? You go by Sid too.” I said in my most confident voice; which still sounded pathetic. 

“Wha-How do you know my name, sir?” Sid squeaked.

“I’ve met you before but you haven’t met me.” I sound confident for once.

I reach out to shake his hand. The second he grabs my hand I let go, having deposited a second loon into his hand. 

“Give me some of those Hazelnuts.”

“I would mister but those cost two loons”

“I already gave you the first loon” I pointed to the cup, smiling.

“You did that, mister?

“My name is Howard by the way and I’m here to help”

“Help with-”

I interrupt him again, “You know that dick nugget, Bo? Yeah, I want to help you kick him out from here”

Sid no longer had a look of confusion on his face but one of eagerness and determination.

“And how do you plan on doing that, sir?”

“We both know that Bo has porn mags in his stand, and-”

I can’t say that Downey’s on my side anymore, fuck. Whatever, I have other options.

“And!” I lean in closer and whisper, “I have some more damning dirt on him.”

Sid’s eyes widened, “What is it, mister?”  

“Did you know that Bo has some mysterious “flesh” in the back of his cart?”

Sid stays silent, waiting for me to say more.

“No one knows what it is but I’ve seen some guys unloading some of the stuff from a dirty looking van and-”

What was the name of the cider? 

I start to laugh. I don’t recognize the laugh. It is not mine. It sounds like high-pitched coughing or a car that won’t start. Like a choking child.

Why am I laughing? What is there not to laugh about?

I bite down my laugh. I heard a different voice inside my head.

I feel Larry’s hand on my shoulder. I feel warmth dripping out my mouth. I taste the rust of blood on my lips, soothing the wound upon them. Last of all, I feel the leeching pain on the tip of my tongue.

“None of it matters.”

“What?” Larry is worried for me, but Sid is afraid of me.. Sid hides behind his cart, no longer with a mischievous smile on his face.

“None of this matters...Let’s go, Larry.’’ I tug his arm and he follows reluctantly. I leave Sid behind confused and two loons richer. 

I walk back towards the direction of the alley. I try to focus on the pain in vain. Larry stops me. We’re back at the mart. My fur is soaked in rain. Where is the umbrella? Larry was holding it. When did I give it to him? I don’t remember.

“What was that? What’s wrong Howie?” 

I look back at Larry. The rags that cover his flesh are stained with ash and dirt. The fur on his face is matted and greasy. He is thin. So very thin.

“You matter.” I gasp out.

“What?”

“You matter to me” I’m so tired.

I want to hold him again. I feel so repulsive.  

I focus on Larry’s eyes. His sad, ugly little eyes. 

“I was trying to prove something to you. But...but I fucked up. I feel like you have no reason to trust me. That this is all a waste of time.” Larry’s eyes begin to shine like a mirror’s edge. I look away. 

“I’m sorry for that outburst, it won't happen again.” I reach for the umbrella but Larry pulls back.

“I trust you, Howard.” Larry steps closer.

“And you need to tell me what’s wrong. You’re acting really weird.”

I try not to cry. ‘I will, I will tell you, just… just not here. I’ll tell you everything when we get home.”

“Ok, remember not to get yourself soaked first.” Larry places the umbrella over my head.

“Thank you for helping me, Larry. Now let's get that dinner I promised.” I am tempted to place my arm around his waist. I don’t know why. To protect him? Yeah, to protect him. Sure.

I choose not to do anything at all and we walk beside each other in comfortable silence.

We walk past Downey again. He was reading a newspaper now, probably one from Bo’s newsstand. He looks oddly peaceful now. If I think hard enough maybe I’ll remember who you are, Downey. Do I want to remember? Maybe, these memories are gone for a reason.

...But I can feel its arrival. A strong memory is surging to the surface, ready to burst forth and drag me down with it.

I grab Larry’s arm and hold him close.

“Starling”

“Huh?”

“Starling Cider was written on the van. It’s still in the alley if you want to check.”

There was no need to walk back down the alley. The logo could be seen from here. The logo was exactly as described.

“Was there any truth to that story, Howie? Or do you just like tormenting squirrel boys?”

“Most of it was true, but Bo doesn't have anything to do with it. I’ll explain it all over dinner.” I nudged him forward. The men in the alley were gone and so was Florence.

“What a lovely thing to talk about during dinner. Will we be having flesh tonight, Sir Howard?”

“Not tonight.” I tried joking back but I just sounded stiff.

I fall back into my thoughts. The harshness of the outside world wasn’t any better than the one inside.

Now I have to pass The Bite again...Renee…I need to find a way to initiate our partnership without going into The Bite. And I don’t want to get beaten up again to do that. I could just wait for her to come out to talk to her. I have plenty of time to change fate before that happens. But I have to get Larry somewhere warm soon. I have to figure out what to do about Renee later. Fuck, I hate thinking.

My headache arrives but later than it was supposed to.

Okay, so my body returns to the state that it was at the beginning of the reset…but my mind, or at least its memories, remain the same. At least they’re supposed to. I can attribute that to my degrading mental state. Now, I must ask why are my memories fading? Is it the stress of the reset? Is it an aftereffect of whatever power is causing the reset? Is it the fucking Artifact? What the hell is happening to me? Shut up your mind, Howard. All this thinking is just making my head hurt even more. Just focus on Larry, dumbass.

I can pass by The Bite. I focus on Larry’s warmth. I focus on the pain.

A fish cart is up ahead, a sign on its body reads ‘Grilled Fish-Shrooms-Veggies’.

"Your favorite is salmon, right Larry?"

"Wha… um, yes it is, why?"

He was looking dazed and confused. He must’ve zoned out too and I pulled him back to harsh reality.

I bet he's still trying to process what's happening. I've overwhelmed him. I'm being careless. I'm a horrible friend.

I ignore my thoughts. Overthinking.

"See that cart up ahead? Let's see what they got."

Larry doesn't respond. He leans in closer to me. I flinch.

Seeking comfort from overstimulation? Probably nothing.

We stand like pillars of concrete in front of the cart owner. He gives us a look of suspicion, staring particularly at Larry.

"Looking for something, boys?" the owner says in a raspy and uncaring voice. He was an otter with two long scars on his neck and a chipped ear. Like mine, but on the opposite ear. He managed to look like someone who was both young and middle-aged.

I don’t respond to him. Instead, I gaze at the glimmering tanks of fish. They swim in endless circles and dart quickly back and forth. The fish accomplish nothing; they are accessories. Slaves to time and space. They shall only be free in death, and I am more than willing to assist them in achieving their delicious fate.

"Do you have any sockeye salmon?" I say in a voice mimicking the drawl of the workers in The Greenery. I don’t know why I do, I’m just doing whatever pops up in my head.

There was salmon in clear view. I just wanted to waste the otter’s time.

"I do, but are you sure you can even afford it ?" The owner mumbled.

"If I didn't, I wouldn't have asked," I say with the drawl; forcing a wide grin.

This is a new branch in the timeline. I've never done this before and it's exhilarating. Y’know what, let’s play a game, stranger.

Larry seems to know what I'm doing. He tries to distance himself from me by looking at the ground.

"Look, either buy something or git," he said with a scowl.

I reached into one of my coat pockets and pulled out a small pouch full of loons and poured half of it in front of him.

"Give me a bag of those shrooms and one of each veggie. Oh! And a sockeye salmon from the tank."

The cart owner's face shifted from surprise to annoyance to acceptance. He quietly bagged the mushrooms and veggies into a paper bag and handed it to me without looking at my face. A moment later he looks back up at us anyway and asks us a question.

“It’s gonna be a bit of a wait to cook that salmon fresh. Are you sure you don’t want one of the precooked ones?” The cart keeper motions to the grilled rainbow trout and bass hanging from hooks; ready to be sold.

“I think there’s a bit of a misunderstanding,” I say innocently. “I don’t want you to cook the fish, I want it straight from the tank, still alive,” I say demandingly.

“What? I can bag the fish for you but you should really let me kill it now or else it’ll be jumping around in your bag for a couple of minutes.” The man was off-put by the certainty in my voice but was trying his best to be polite.

“A couple of minutes is all we need,” I said while gesturing my head to Larry.

Larry’s head jerks towards me at the mention of his inclusion. 

“What?” says the shopkeeper as sheer confusion shows across his face. Larry as well begins to try to process what I just said.

“Howie, what are you doing?” he asks, a slight desperation in his voice.

I interrupt Larry before he can ask more and say with even more confidence, “Y’know what, don’t bag em. I’m just gonna pick it out from the tank and carry it myself.”

I head around the cart and approach the fish menacingly. 

“Sir, You can’t do that!”

Panic sets in. Fun, Fun, Fun.

“I already paid for it, why can’t I grab it myself?” I say undeterred.

Larry and the cart owner look on in horror as I reach into one of the tanks and pull out a salmon with ease.

The salmon flays and squirms to escape my grasp but I grip back with the force of a wrench, securing its fate.

“Sir, are you insane?!”

“Now that’s a bit of a personal question.” I say walking past him.

“This will serve us nicely” I raise up the still squirming salmon and raise it to Larry’s eye level.

Larry has his mouth gaped open, speechless.

Praise the fish! Praise It's Flesh!

“Sir, SIR! What the hell are you going to do with that fish?!” The owner screams, choking on his desperate gasps.

“I think you already know the answer…” I wiggle the fish in his face. 

“I'll tell the police!” 

“Oh? Downey is in on this too.”

Whatever life remained in his eyes was quickly sapped out and replaced with a look of sheer despair.

“Praise the Shepard!” I yelp out triumphantly.

I drive my thumb claw into the back of the salmon’s head, killing it instantly. I grab another paper bag from the motionless owner's stand and bag the fish myself.

 “My name is Howard, by the way”.

 I drag Larry along and leave without saying another word.

Praise me! Praise the Shepard!

I let out a hearty laugh which turned into a chuckle. After a moment I realize that I'm copying Anatoly’s laugh. I stop laughing.

“I’m not drunk, but I sure am feeling tipsy!” I sling my hand around Larry’s shoulder, a crooked smile crawling on my face.

Larry staggers back, pushing my arm off him.

"What's wrong with you, Howard?"

Fuck…

I revert inwards. I wince as I realize what I have just done. 

What the fuck is wrong with me? Why did I do that? Am I going mad?

Focus… Focus… Focus… On what?

The swaying wind lashes onto my rain-soaked face. I am trembling and the cold burns. It bites into me like leeches under the skin. Sapping away at my life's warmth. I clench my fist and sink my claws into my palm. Hot blood is drawn out and drips slowly onto the concrete. There it muddles and fades, becoming part of an ocean of rain.

The rain that drops upon the pavement will do so again. Rising back up to the heavens as the stream of time flows backward. I am back on the concrete roads with the same droplets soaking my skin. Over and over again.

I notice a puddle in front of me. The neon lights have turned it into a dirty and dark rainbow. I look for my reflection. All that I see is a face that I do not recognize. The face ripples and swirls and shifts like sand on a riverbank. I look for my eyes and the image starts to clear. Yes, that face is surely mine.

Has my face always been covered in tumors? 

I want to pull out the fur on my face and stuff it into my mouth. I want to choke on its wiry, squirming mass. Choke until the strands cut up my lungs into a fine dust. 

I stomp on the puddle, destroying the reflection. I am again.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry , I'm uh um…I'm so…I'm so…" I stammer out. 

"It's ok, Howard. I think you just need some time to calm down. Get yourself home, and we can talk about it later, okay? I'm gonna head back to the bridge."

I become harshly aware of all my senses again. I hear my screams of pain. I see pulsating flesh. I smell the rotting corpses. I taste the blood of another. I feel my body melting off my back. The pain is unbearable.

"Please…please don't leave me, Larry."

I sound so pathetic. 

“Please don’t,” I continue, trying not to sob.

“Please..” I walk up to him, placing my hand on his shoulder. 

“I need your help, Larry. Won’t you help me?” Emotional manipulation. Why am I like this? 

You know why.

Larry looks me in the eyes, searching deep within. I just hope he never finds the evil behind them. 

His deep sorrow slowly becomes more clear on his face. Larry breathes in deeply and lets out a shaky sigh. I do not let him speak.

“Let’s just go to my house, I don’t want to be alone right now. After that, you don’t owe me anything, ok?” I pat his shoulder a couple of times but his expression doesn’t change. 

“Howard, I will help you whenever you need it.” Larry places his hand on my own and slowly removes it from his shoulder. 

He takes out his handkerchief and wipes some more moisture off my brow. The cloth was soaked by now. 

“Thank you.” I say weakly. “Let’s go home.”

Larry threw the towel at my face, it sticking onto me. 

“Dirty laundry.” Larry huffed. “I’m not mad about whatever that was. But we really need to talk about whatever is going on with you.”

“Alright, I won’t keep you in the dark for much longer.”

I guide Larry once more, holding his hand this time. His hand is smaller than mine and his fingers are thin and bony. His claws poked out of the white gloves he wore. The gloves were now being stained red as my hand slowly bled on them. Larry's claws were chipped and dirty. I imagined him tightening his grip and tearing into my flesh like paper, infecting me. I do not focus on his hand anymore. 

I think of Renee again. I want to meet her. I miss her deeply, but she will have to wait. I can visit her house tomorrow, yet that doesn’t make me feel any better. Nothing does.

The bright lights of the theater made me regain awareness of my surroundings. I see Anatoly ahead of me nearby. 

He hasn’t left yet. I won’t let this opportunity slip away.

I close the gap with a single slick stride, and when he notices me I go in for the hug.

It was like hugging a marshmallow, warmth coming from him like a radiator. I never realized how soft beaver fur actually was. It was like fresh cotton from the fields. I would’ve held the hug for longer until I realized that I was getting his sweater vest wet with my soaked fur.

“Whoa there, water bug! I’m happy to see you too, Howie!”

“TOLY! How’s the wife and kids!” I tried to match Anatoly’s energy knowing that it was the only time my bad acting skills wouldn’t matter. I let Anatoly talk for a while, the “conversation” is similar to the original timeline. It was just nice to hear another friendly voice. He hadn’t noticed Larry yet who was currently hiding behind me like I was a meat shield. 

Anatoly continued to talk for what felt like 2 or 20 minutes before he finally turned the conversation towards me. 

“So whatcha doing out here, Howie?”

“Just spending the evening with my new partner.”

I step aside and force Larry into the spotlight.

“This is Larry, and Larry, this is my big friend, Anatoly.”

I present Larry as if he were a prized cake. 

“Woah! Now isn’t he a funny little thing!”

Anatoly extends a warm hand towards Larry who, while looking slightly offended, extends his own.

But Larry quickly pulls his hand back, surprised. 

His glove is covered with my blood.

“Oh sorry, I forgot my gloves are dirty.” Larry quickly said, laughing nervously.

Anatoly didn’t seem to notice the blood and chuckled back.

“Well boy, at least you have the decency to tell me unlike Howard over here!”

Anatoly placed his hand on his wet chest and smiled.

I force a giggle and remember how much I hate introductions.

“Listen, Anatoly, can ya uhh… drive us back to my place? Don’t want to get any wetter than I am now”

“Sure thing, Howie. I was about to hit out of here anyway. The work here is slower than molasses.”

“Thank you, Toly.” 

“Just don’t get my cab wet!”

The cab ride was pleasant. Anatoly and I talked about his newborn son and how best to optimize profits from taxi routes, while Larry sat in the backseat with the salmon in his lap. 

There was a moment of comfortable, shared silence before I broke it with a question that was burning through me.

“Anatoly, I have a favor to ask you.”

“Hm? Sure thing, Howie! Just don’t ask for money, I barely have enough of that myself!”

I tried to match his laugh but found myself unable to, jumping straight into what I wanted.

“I need a gun.”

Anatoly tenses up for a moment but quickly regains his composure.

“Huh? What-”

“I need a gun,” I repeat. 

I can see through the rearview mirror that Larry is equally bewildered.

“Why do you need… is everything alright, Howie?” The concern in Anatoly’s voice was enough to make my heart cry. I couldn't bear to look him in the face. I’ll need to come up with a quick lie.

“Yeah, everything’s fine, Anatoly.” I give him my best fake smile. “It’s just… I’ve been thinking I need protection while I'm on the job.” I made sure to watch my tone to make sure I sounded as genuine as possible.

“Last week, I had some guy hold up a knife to my throat. I want to try to prevent that from happening again.”

This answer seemed to calm them both down, but Larry still had a steely look in his eyes.

“I thought you said you weren't doing jobs like that anymore.”

FUCK!

I flinched and gripped tightly on the wound on my hand. I dug deep into my resolve to calm myself down and answered in a cool voice,” I’m not, but it’d be nice to have some peace of mind”

“Well, if it’s something you need I’ll do my best to give it to you,” Anatoly said in a seldom-heard solemn tone.

“Thank you, I knew I could count on you. Oh, and I’ll pay you, of course.”

The cab rolled to a stop in front of my apartment. It was a short ride, but before I got out I handed Anatoly my bag of loons.

“Here’s a tip.”

Anatoly’s eyes widened.

“What?! There’s got to be over 100 loons in here! I can’t take this, Howie!”

“It’s for all the tips I didn’t give you before!” I let out a genuine laugh.

“Oh, and by the way, I need you to come back here in the morning to drive us somewhere. Around 9 a.m. would be good.” I exit the cab with Larry following suit. Larry was eyeing the money and I took notice of it.

“What? Huh? What?” Anatoly stammered as we walked away. I gave him a final wave goodbye as we entered the apartment building.

“What about you, Howard? Don’t you need the money?” Larry asked.

“Not as much as him. I’ll be fine, Larry.”

“But…”

“I’ll be fine” 

Larry left it at that.

-----

I zoned out again and only remembered that I insisted we take the elevator instead of the stairs when we journeyed up to my apartment. I regained my painful awareness after I had shut the door and heard Larry place the fish and umbrella on my desk.

"What the hell happened to your hand?" Larry yelped, grabbing my arm.

"Oh, Larry…" 

My right palm had 4 small puncture wounds in it. Blood slowly oozed out of my hand, some of which dripped on the floor as my fingers twitched back and forth. My fingertips were covered in a dull and crusty red.  

"Don't you worry about me?" I wanted to snarl while looking him dead in the eyes. 

Despite not saying it, the glare remained and a small gruff escaped my lips.

"Hand me that vodka on the desk," I ask Larry despite grabbing it myself.

I took a swig from the bottle before pouring some of its contents onto my hand. I bite my bleeding lip to stifle a scream. 

A mixture of blood and alcohol stains the floor, but I find myself unable to care. I wipe my hand on my coat before hanging it up.

"I cut myself with my claws." I said, acknowledging Larry. 

“What the hell? Why?!”

“If I'm going to explain that, I’ll have to explain something far more important first,” I say with a hoarse voice.

I slip off my tie and wrap it around my hand, tightening it with a slip knot.

I pull up a chair from across the room and place it next to my desk. 

“Have a seat, Larry. I have so much to tell you.”

I didn't want the desk to be between us; I wanted him close. But I don’t trust myself to be grabby after all I have done to him. Not now at least.

Larry shifted uncomfortably. I could not tell if it was because of the situation or the hard-ass cushions that felt like concrete. Likely both.

I can’t help but let my mind wander to the familiar. Larry sat where so many of my past clients have. If I was capable of not having nightmares, this would be a funny dream. Larry would be hiring me to investigate where that bastard Johnny hid his stash and I’d tell him I’d take the case for free because I love him so fucking much, and the dream would end with me waking up screaming, and, and…

I’m crying.

How long have I been crying?

Larry's face didn’t tell me how long, he had the same pathetic look on his face as always.

It wasn’t a sobbing cry. The tears flowed out, but my breathing was even. How long was I staring at him? 

“Howie…”

Larry stood up and moved to get closer to me. His hand was on my shoulder now. It felt warm and soft, but I was certain that it was just my imagination running away from me.

“You...you have a record player in your tent,” I say with hesitation.

“What-”

“You own a copy of the Cuttleboys album ‘Unknown and Unwanted’, the same one we used to listen to in college.” I started to sob but I bit my tongue and continued.

“You own three books that I know of. ‘The Wrath of Oil’ by Edward Tine, ‘Breaking The Cycle’ by Susan Hurston, and ‘Waltman’s Room’. That last one is illegal.'' I say this with nonchalant precision. It’s funny how I remember those little details even while crying.

Larry says nothing, but he’s kneeling next to me. His hand tightened when I mentioned the last book.

“Oh, and the outside of the tent is blue, heh.” 

I had expected to be comforted by being back home. My body was at least. Warmth had finally crept back into my fingers, and my face was cool instead of freezing. Yet my mind could not seem to calm down. 

I hugged Larry suddenly; I needed comfort. I seeped in his warmth. I’m so tired…

“How the hell do you know any of that, Howard?!"

I lean my head into his chest and close my eyes. 

“I know about Deo too, and Roger, and Joshua, and Casey, and the possum family, and...well you get the picture.”

Larry’s breathing became uneven but the rise and fall of his chest soothed me. 

“Howard...answer me.”

I’d rather lay down in a gutter and let the filth drown me rather than answer that question.

“I’m sort of...trapped in a time loop, heh.”

"What!?"

"Please don't make me say it again."

I'm so fucking tired…  

"Larry, I've been dying over and over again. You're right, I shouldn't know any of this. But I'm not gonna deny it. What’s happening to me, I can’t explain myself. But I do know that you can’t prove me wrong. There is absolutely no way I could have known any of that normally. I’ve lived and died by your side multiple times." 

Larry backed off from me. I missed his warmth immediately.

"I'm sorry, what did I do wrong? Was it my tone? I can fix that for you."

Larry stands up. 

"Howard. I have to go."

"No!" I burst out.

My voice reverberates through the room as my chair falls to the floor.

"I'm not letting you leave me! I'm not letting you shoot up, you piece of shit! You're more than a groveling junkie, Larry! You don't get to leave! You don't get to run away from this, you fucking coward!"

Larry is crying. I’m choking on my tears as he heads for the door.

"Wait! Wait, please don't leave Larry! I'm sorry!" I say, grabbing his arm in the process.

"Don't fucking touch me!"

I don't let go.

"Shit, I'm fucking sorry, Larry!"

“I didn't come here to be abused by you, Howard! You’ve gone insane!”

“I’m not insane!” Quickly lowering my voice, I continued. “I’m sorry I yelled, please don’t leave me… Just let me help you with your drug problem!”

“Leave? You’re the one who left me like worthless trash! What? Did you think you could pounce back into my life like a saint, and it’d make everything alright? I’m not gonna be part of your sick fantasy just so you can feel better!”

“No Larry, I really do care about you! I’m not doing this for me, I'm doing this because I love you!”

There was a moment of silence before the rage returned into Larry’s face.

“Oh, fuck off, Howard!”

“You’re right about everything, Larry, but I’m telling the truth too.”

I try my best to level my voice again.

“Larry, I regret everything I've done to you and what I haven't done with you. I shouldn't have left you. I should’ve just let you stay. My heart was blinded. I hurt you so much. I blame myself for what has become of you. I’m not gonna run off on you anymore.”

Tears streamed down Larry's face. The droplets are pittering on the floor, mixing with my dried blood. It formed a soft puddle of salt and iron.

“You blame yourself for my sins,” Larry replied. “You blame yourself for my failures. I can't say that I don't blame you for some of them, but I do know that my choices are my own. You are broken like me. You can not possibly help me. You can not possibly help yourself .” Larry’s voice rasps and creaks like a house in the wind.

 “I know I can help you,” I protested. “I have to believe I can. I know I can help myself, but I can't stop hurting the people around me. I can't stop hurting myself. I’m not asking for your forgiveness, nor do I want you to forgive me. All I ask is for your trust. I don't know how to earn it, but I'm trying my damndest to. I'm a piece of shit for saying those things about you, but it's how I feel. It's how I've felt for a while. I've failed you and I can't let you fail yourself.”

I edge closer to Larry. He was analyzing my words with care.

Larry will forgive me. That's just who he is.

"Howard, I already trusted you, but you've been trying real hard to break that trust."

“I know, and I'm sorry. I'm just scared.” 

“I’m scared too.”

The silence that followed was a long one. We stood there and just stared at each other. I saw Larry's tears roll down his face. How badly I wanted to wipe them off.

Who's going to stop me? Only myself.

“I believe you.” Larry finally sighed out. “I haven't accepted it as reality yet. But for our sanity, I'm going to believe you. And I’m sure you don’t mind If ask you some more questions.”

“Thank you, Larry. I’ll do my best to answer them.”

I reach in for a hug but Larry places his hand on my chest, pushing me away.

“Answer my questions first.”

I hated him for saying that.

“Ok.”

Larry has a look of contemplation on his face that shifts into one of resolution.

“What do you know about that book, Waltman’s room? You said it was illegal, so do you know why it’s illegal?” Larry’s eyes were made of steel that pierced into my own.

I did not hesitate to answer. 

“Because it’s about a man falling in love with his bunkmate, another male, and his personal struggle with accepting it. It was banned by the apes after it was discovered circulating the black market.”

Larry’s hands tightened into fists, trembling with fury.

“And what did you glean from that?” Larry asked with a crackle of fire in his voice.

“Well, I am a detective, so I have to assume you like good books.”

“Answer my fucking question, Howard.”

I approached Larry with caution. I know how to make him come closer now.

“It must mean…that you like other men.”

I say softly as I grab one of his fists and hold it gently.

The trembling softens and stops altogether.

“It’s alright, Larry. I don’t feel any malice towards you.”

Tears begin to return in Larry's eyes. 

“Oh Shepard, what did I do to deserve this?”

“It’s okay, Larry. It’s alright.”

I embrace him and I hold him tight. He starts to tremble and sob. I hug him harder. 

“It’s alright,” I said as my own tears fell.

Larry hugs me back. Just like I knew he would.

I held Larry for what felt like hours, and when we had no tears left to cry we continued to sob together. Breathing in the moist air. I slowly led him to my bedroom and we sat down by the tv. I poured us both a glass of water.

“Drink up.” I say, my voice hoarse.

We sip on the water for a while, listening to the rain scatter on the window pane. Eventually, I speak up.

“I feel the same way, y’know.”

Larry raises his ears at the sound of my voice.

“I accepted it a long time ago so it doesn't bother me anymore. I don’t know about you, but I like both men and women. Though at the time I figured it out, I was just happy. I wasn’t a full quival*, heh.”

Larry flinched at that.

“Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I joke about it now, but I was afraid back then.”

“How long have you known?”

“Huh?”

“When did you know you had those feelings?”

“Oh, well, over ten years or so. Sometime during college.”

“And you never told me?” Larry said with more disappointment than indignation.

“I didn't think you’d care, and I didn’t want to lose our friendship. Didn’t do so well on that last part, did I?” I wince, self-loathing seeping out from my teeth.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Howie."

That threatened to make me cry again.

"Well, what about you, when did you first figure it out?" 

Larry scratched his chin and sighed.

"I think I've always known. I just never had a way to confirm it before." Larry’s figure was drooping like a wilting flower.

I give him a weak smile, trying to cheer him up.

Larry saw this, but a look of panic suddenly crossed his face.

"I never… I never felt any way like that towards you!" He blurted out. "Don't you dare think that! Everything I did for you was because you were my friend. Those memories aren't tainted!" Larry asserted.

"Woah, it's alright, the thought hadn't even crossed my mind." 

"I'm sorry. I'm just trying to come to terms with what just happened."

"Take your time Larry, I'll be here for you." 

I place my hand on his.

"Never though?” I asked coyly. “I know I'm ugly but you'd think your standards would be lower with that face of yours." I grin.

"Shut the fuck up, Howard." Larry laughed and so did I. 

Larry covered his face with his hands; he must have been blushing.

Another memory to cloud my brain. I let the moment pass. As the warmth faded and the air returned to a steady hum, Larry was the first to speak.

“I still have another question to ask, Howie.” Larry fumbled with his fingers. As his eyes widened I knew that he remembered my blood-stained gloves. He took them off slowly and awkwardly.

“You can wash those while you’re here. Sorry to bleed on ya.” 

“I’m more worried about your hand than my gloves.”

“I know, but they’re such nice gloves.”

I see his hands now in full detail. They’re not as bad-looking as my delusion led me to believe. They were still worriedly wiry and boney, but his nails were no dirtier than mine. Two details I noticed were that his palms were calloused and that there was a deep scar on his right wrist where the radial artery would be. 

I want to hold them. 

“Howie, you were never a good comedian.” Larry bit on his lip and sighed.

“But seriously, my second question is…how long have you been trapped in this supposed loop?”

“I don’t know specifically how much time has accrued, but I do know that I’ve reset three times since the loop started, I’m currently in my fourth reset.”

“Hmm, do you know how long the time periods last before you reset again?”

“I don’t remember, but I know they’re longer than a week.”

“How can you not remember?” 

“Because I wasn’t exactly ready to play detective again right after dying.”

“What?” Larry said in a whisper.

“The first time I reset was just after I had died in my original life.”

“How…how did you die, Howard?”

“Larry…please…I can’t talk about that right now.”

“Sorry.” Larry put his head down in shame.

I took several deep breaths and gathered my mind back together.

“It’s okay. Look, I can tell you one thing though: What killed me originally has already killed me again., but that's because I went after it again.”

"What… what is it?" asked a concerned Larry.

"I'll tell you later. I'm sorry Larry, but I do need some time to rest."

"Sure take your time, Howie. I won't pry about that stuff for now. I promise."

Larry doesn't believe me.

"Thank you… but if you have anything else bothering you, please ask."

Larry pondered for a moment, then asked, "What else do you know about me?"

"I… well I think I made it obvious that I know of your drug problem."

The sadness returned to Larry's eyes. All my progress seems to be ripped away from me all at once. I can't help but clench my fist on my injured palm. 

Larry immediately noticed and grabbed my fist.

"No! Howie, please don’t!"

"I can smell it on you, the monkeybutt. The one you said you never tried. I can smell them all."

"Howie…" Larry rubbed my fist until it relaxed. 

He cares about me more than he cares for himself. Selfish bastard. Don't you know I need you more than I need myself?

"Oh, Larry!"

I grabbed him in a desperate embrace.

"You said you'd quit. That it was all in the past! Please, Larry, I can't lose you again!"

The tears swelled up again. I was holding onto Larry like a neglected child holds their mother.

Larry held me tightly in return.

"It's okay, Howard. It's alright, I'm here. I won't be going anywhere."

At that moment, Larry planted a kiss on the very top of my head. It was soft and quick, but it felt like a lifetime to me. That act made me want to melt into Larry's arms and fall asleep forever.

"Before I died for the first time… I got to go live in the camp with you."

Larry caressed my head and patted my back, listening intently.

"You saved my life, dragged me through the sewers for three hours. I was sick. I can't tell you why yet, but I was weak. I slept in your tent with you for three days. On the last day, I asked for your help to get me something from the city. You came back just in time for dinner, and we sat by the campfire and you held my hand. I cherish that memory."

Larry had stopped his caresses to listen.

"But when I died for the first time and I reset, you left the camp but never came back. I don't know what I did wrong, I did everything the exact same way in the original timeline. You never came back. I cursed you. I cursed myself. What did I do wrong? Why couldn't I get you to stop?"

I cried soft streams of tears, my eyes hurt from crying so much. I lay my head onto Larry's chest and listen to his heartbeat. It is a soothing and thunderous lullaby.

I tugged upon the strands of his rugged scarf and loosened it from his neck. 

“You promised me,” I whispered. 

“If I broke my promise in that life, it just means that I know what not to do. You have given me a chance to start again. For us to start again.”

“I’m sorry, Larry. I hurt you again.” 

I straightened myself. I don't clench my fist, but I hold Larry’s hand. My trembling hand into his firm one. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said.

“I do. Just because I’m in pain doesn’t mean that I should forget yours.”

I edge closer to him.

“If we are both weak, then we can be a little stronger together.” I say.

My torso touches his. 

I continue, ”I won’t ever leave you again, my sweet Larry.”

The color of the pale moon returned to Larry’s eyes. No longer a color of sadness, but of strength.

“I won’t ever let you down, Howie. I promise”

“I promise too.” I say as I clasp my other hand on top of his. Larry returns the gesture and we give each other a little squeeze. 

“We good?” I ask.

“Yeah, we’re good. Just don’t hurt yourself anymore, Howie.”

He stroked my bandaged hand. 

“I won’t. It’s just how I respond to all the shit I’ve been through. I’m in the right mind now to catch myself from acting on those thoughts.”

I had forgotten how it feels to have a clear mind.

“Ok, I believe you.” He does.

“Do you have any more questions?” I mention casually, even though he would have nothing but questions.

“None that I can deal with asking right now.”

Larry rubbed his shoulder and yawned. I yawned unconsciously in response.

“What now, Howie?”

Shit, what was I planning to do before everything broke down?

“Do you uh, want to take a bath? It's cold out, and I thought well.. .I'll make dinner in the meantime. “

“When did you learn how to cook?”

“Just now. Well, I took some lessons a while back.” A half-lie but not a hurtful one.

"I guess anything would be better than what you made in college.” Larry smirked before turning his gaze towards my hands.

“Are you sure you can cook with only one hand?”

“Yeah, I’m good at multitasking so I’ve learned how to cook with just one.”

"Just don't mess up like you did with the Photography Club cake"

"I learn from my mistakes sometimes."

"I’ve never heard you say something I both agree and doubt you on."

"Shut up, Larry."

I brush off a tear from his face with my thumb. That shocks him, probably should've asked first.

"I'm gonna hug you now, okay?"

Larry nods.

I am slow to wrap my arms around him this time. How I wish to kiss him.

My little snuggle bug.

“Let's get you nice and warm,” I said. “I'll start up the bath.”

“You sure? I don't want to dirty up your house." 

"Well, you can't any more than you've already have"

Larry huffed at that, protesting,  "Shouldn't you take one as well?”

He pointed at my clothes, the filth covering me seemingly not obvious enough of the fact..

“I'll change into something else. I'll dry myself off with the radiator.” I pat Larry on the back. “And that was just me being nice. You smell like shit, dude.”

I push him along, laughing.

"C'mon now, I'll fix us up for some supper."

I had cleaned up the apartment before I left for town, though I only picked up obvious trash and such, but  I realized Larry wouldn't care what my fucking apartment looked like.

He'd probably find it quite strange since we treated our dorms like slumped slugs.

A single red light bulb hummed above my head as I waited for the water to heat up. The bathtub was in the same room as my kitchen and bedroom. I didn't mind it, but I realized how peculiar it was when Larry came over.

I had woken up here just hours earlier. Dragged back to this point as the time loop had reset. The first time I reset I dropped the book I was reading into the water. I got around to finishing it during the second reset. It was a funny little book about a man who could change his face at will. He changes his identity often so he can escape his crimes but when he finally settles down he dies from cancer. Larry didn’t like it when I told him about it, and it especially didn't help that the artifact was bulging out of my back when I did.

Larry went back to sitting by my old broken tv. I had poured him a glass of liquor mixed with grape juice. He hadn’t touched it yet. I hadn't a clue why I picked that mixture. It just felt right. 

The water became hot, but not hot enough to burn. Just enough that it'd stay warm as it cooled down. I was careful not to let my blood drip into the water.

I poured in some soap and watched the tub fill with bubbles. The soap was made with cottonwood buds and mint, and it was the same brand I've bought for over ten years. I suddenly wished that I had bought soap that smelt like yarrow oil.

"Bath's ready. I'll be cooking so don't worry about me."

Larry’s ears twitch and he takes a sip out of his glass. He approaches me slowly, with his fingers fumbling around his scarf.

“I’ll make this a good night like I was supposed to do. Shit, I keep wanting to say I’m sorry again.” I stumbled out.

Larry blinked then leaned in close to me. His nose nearly touched mine. I blush.

"You’re fine, Howard. Just remember to cook that poor fish properly. "

I chuckle. I tug at Larry’s scarf and unravel it even more.

"Hurry up with the bath, you smell worse than the fish."

"Can't smell worse than you. Don’t peek. "

Larry drags the curtain behind him and I can hear the sound of rustling as he undresses. 

I try my best to stifle my imagination as I start to cook dinner. 

I gathered my ingredients and stacked them into a neat pile. I pulled out an old pot from under the cupboard, a gift from momma Lotor. I reach to the very back of the cupboard and pull out a small jar. Duck Fat. It probably doesn’t match well with a fish dish but I’ll use it anyway. An expensive gift from Anatoly that matches the occasion. Larry deserves decadence. 

I hear Larry dip into the bath.

"Take your time, I'm making soup."

"Don't have to tell me again."

I put the dangy pot on the stove and gently pour in the duck fat until the bottom is coated in a millimeter-deep layer of oil. I slowly turn the stove top knob to low heat. I had to go slow because the glue connecting the knob to the stove had worn off. If I twisted too fast the knob would come flying off. 

Ah shit, I have to cut up the salmon first.

I clear the counter next to me to make room. I don’t have a cutting board so the tabletop had to serve its place. 

I pull out an old kitchen knife, another gift from Momma Lotor, and place the blade to the salmon’s neck. I see the blood and brain matter oozing from the fish head, I pause. I try to stop myself from cringing. 

Looks exactly like what happened to-

My hand grips the knife hard. 

Oh fuck, I can’t do this.

I take deep breaths, steadying my hand. 

“It’s okay, Howard. It’s ok.” I whisper, mimicking Larry’s voice.

Think of what the fish has to offer you. It’s nutrients, It’s fat. The flavor will make Larry so happy. You can do this.

I poke my knife into the fish's neck until the skin breaks. The sound makes me drop the knife. 

Shit.

I start humming to drown out the noise. I begin again. With a swift motion, I sever the salmon head and drop the knife again.

Ok, you’re doing great. Keep going.

Next, I place the knifepoint to the belly of the fish. 

I just have to gut it.

The slicing motion was the easy part. When the guts poured out I almost vomited.

"Oh Shepard, Oh fuck!" I gasp, falling to my knees.

Luckily, Larry didn't hear me. But I stopped myself from cursing any longer.

You're good. You're good. You're safe here.

I get up from the ground, steadying myself. 

Now you have to pull the guts out.

"Fuck." I wash my hands to give me time to brace my mind.

Do I pull it out with my hands? No, I can’t handle that.

I stare at my wounded hand. 

I can't hold onto the fish without risking infecting my wound.

I grab a fork from my dirty dishes.

Clean enough, time for some quick surgery.

I pry open the fish belly with the fork and knife. Its intestines sprawled out further. The slime and gray of them reminded me of the worm pits in the greenery. I gag and cough. The smell was likely not even there, but the memory of the smell of death was a powerful phantom.

I quickly spot the end of the shit tube and sever it. I scoop out the remaining organs with a quelching claw and toss them to the side with the fork. I quickly scoop out any remaining gunk with a spoon and rinse out the inside of the fish. A dark stream of red swirls down the drain.

See? That wasn't so hard, you boobus.

I felt my confidence growing.

I can do this. You can do this, baby.

Now I just have to cut the filets.

Thank the shepherd that the skin is edible.

I hold my breath. I fear the scent returning and fail to  remember the scent of yarrow oil.

I let muscle memory do the work as I slide my knife down the backbone of the salmon. I cringed as I felt every bump of its spine across my knife.

One side off. Time to rip out the backbone.

You’re fine, Howie.

I expose the bones to the light. It is a sickening white.

My knife is too large to pick them all out. I have to use my hands.

My fingers tremble over the fish, my jaw shaking, my breath heavy.

I can’t do this.

I reach over to grab an almost empty bottle of liquor and drink it slowly.

Part of me gags as if it were poison and another reacts as if I just had a spoonful of sugar. 

But I can’t taste it. 

I lick my lips slowly but still taste nothing. No bitterness or chalk.

I try my other bottles of rum, whiskey, and wine, but there’s no flavor either.

I don’t feel the effects of drinking. No nausea or buzz.

Nothing.

What the fuck.

At this point, I'm too tired to question why. I only feel disappointed.

You need to do this, You need to do this for Larry.

I walk back to the salmon and brace myself.

I pinch with my claws at the very end of the spine and pull. The ribs crack and bend as they are pulled along. Bits of fat hang on before dropping off. I feel it in my own back. My flesh twisting and ripping. 

No, no, no.

I bite down as hard as I can on my lip. Exactly where my burn was. I feel the blood start to trickle out as I pull out the pin bones. 

I feel it in my back. I feel my flesh melting.

I bite down so hard that I tear off a chunk of my lip. The blood gushes out now into my mouth. The blood scratched my throat. I swallow the chunk of flesh.

The rest was a blur.

I remember cutting up the filets and searing them in the duck fat. I remember dicing the potato, chopping the leek, and slicing the tomato. I remember finding the last of my salt as I added the seasonings. I remember sauteing the ingredients separately so they’d cook faster. I don’t remember ever trying to stop the bleeding in my mouth.

It wasn’t until the broth started to boil that I came back to my senses.

I stumbled as I looked down and saw that my shirt had blood splattered on it. It looked like droplets of blood scattered in the snow. 

I hear Larry step out of the bath.

I panic as I stick a piece of cotton in my mouth and rip off my shirt. I throw it into the trash.

He can’t see me like this.

I grab the first shirt in my wardrobe and throw it on. It was an oversized white v-neck that draped over me like robes. In contrast, I was still wearing my dress pants and shoes.

I probably would’ve laughed at my appearance if my mouth wasn’t in so much pain.

‘Hey, Howard, do you have a towel I can use?”

“Yeah, give me a moment.”

I steadied myself as I found the cleanest towel I could find.

“Here, catch.” 

I opened a small gap in the curtains and tossed it in.

I didn’t hear a splash or any protests so I ran back to my steaming pot.

It should be done by now. I don’t remember checking if the veggies were soft before I put them in the pot.

I frantically looked around for a ladle but I couldn't find one.

Where the fuck did I put it?!

Larry’s clothes rustled as he put them on.

I was supposed to give him new clothes.

Shit, shit, shit.

I was feeling a photlmie* of emotions.

I broke my promise.

Rage, regret, anxiety, and bitterness flowed through me. I’m a failure. I failed Larry. I failed myself. I’m only good at hurting myself and others. I get an infinite amount of second chances and I waste them all. The problem is within my existence itself. I change but I change nothing. Why should I care if I live or die? They are both oblivion. They are both damnations. 

“Wow, Howie, that smells so fucking good.”

I had been standing still over the pot. Dazed out. I hadn’t even noticed Larry walking up to me.

“Nice shirt, I don’t remember you being that fat though”, Larry tugs at my sleeve.

I dart my eyes towards the trash can and then back to Larry.

“It’s just something I sleep in. I didn’t have time to dry off my old shirt so I threw this on.”

I keep my right side facing away from Larry. Lest he notices the blood-soaked ball of cotton. 

“Speaking of clothes…” I noticed my voice was sore and I shifted my tone to sound tired instead.

“Do you want to have some of mine?”

Larry had tightened his scarf around his neck again. It seemed to be part of his body at this point,  like he’d freeze without it. He put back on his blood-stained glove. And he was still wearing his boots.

Larry scratched his snout. “I don’t think they’d fit.”

“I’ll buy you some more then.”

Larry tugged on my arm. “I know what you’re trying to do, Howie, but I’m really fine.”

“Let me give you at least one of my coats. I can’t stand seeing you cold.”

“I appreciate it, Howard.”

Larry rested his head on my shoulder. 

“You’re so cute, Larry.” I said without thinking.

That flustered Larry. Who stared at me for several moments.

“Well, I can’t say the same about you. You’re still an ugly old bastard, Howard.”

“Old? You look like you’re about to offer me hard candy.”

“But you don’t deny you’re ugly?”

“Even a blind man would know I’m ugly, Larry.”

I turn off the gas to the stove. Its rhythmic clicking died instantly.

“It really does smell good, Howie.”

“Let’s just hope it tastes good.”

I don’t have a dinner table to set, so the tv counter where we had just recounted our past traumas would have to do.

I lay out a small bowl for myself and for Larry, two plates, and the biggest bowl I had.

My memory was clearing up again. While my lip was busy painting my shirt, I had planned out two sides and the main dish for Larry in the haze.

I had seared salmon and buttered leeks in one plate. And put some leftover rice that I had fried into another.

The main dish was salmon soup. I had given him the fish head; the most nutritious part of the fish. I put the fattiest pieces of meat in his portion. I had also put most of the potato cubelets into his bowl. The warm smell of it reminded me of the potato soup that my mom used to make. I felt happy for a moment. Disturbingly to me, my unconscious mind had also managed to add bone marrow to the soup, meaning that I had processed the very part of the fish that made me have another breakdown.

How considerate of me. 

I had finished setting up Larry’s meal all while trying to keep him on my left side. Once I was finished though, I threw all caution to the wind and scooped out my portion quickly. I had also found my ladle in the haze. 

My fear was gone and only I remained. The food was cooked perfectly, but I was still worried about the taste. 

Would I even be able to taste it? Will it be like the beer?

If Larry had noticed the bloodied piece of cotton sticking out my mouth, he hadn’t said anything.

I headed back with my own bowl and sat down.

“Dinner’s ready, honey.” I say sarcastically. 

“Howard, what happened to your lip?” Larry said with a concern that nearly broke my damn heart. 

“I have a bad habit of biting my lip. I burnt that shit today too. But I kept chewing on it even though it hurt like hell. Well, it finally burst from all the abuse. You should have seen it, Larry. It was like a blood fountain!”

Larry still looked concerned.

“I’m fine now though. It’s what I get for not quitting.” I awkwardly laugh.

“You sure, Howie?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, swoomie.”

I try to move on.

“Eat up before I take your food.”

Larry sits down as I push his food towards him.

“Wait, is this all for me?”

“Yup”

“How big do you think my stomach is?”

“What you don’t finish, we'll have it for breakfast tomorrow. I ate earlier so I’m not too hungry.” That should be enough to deflect him from offering any of his food to me.

“Go ahead and taste it, I don’t even know if it’s all good.”

“I’d still eat it. We never waste food.”

I try to get all the ingredients on my spoon. Bubbles of fat swirling around it. I carefully positioned my head so that the hot broth wouldn't spill over to the other side of my mouth. I did not want to reopen that wound in front of Larry.

I expected to taste nothing at all or even something bad, but what I got in return was the pleasant taste of salt and fat. The spice flows evenly throughout the soup. The starchiness of the potato, the acidity of the tomato, the creamy fat of the salmon all complimented each other. But the greatest flavor of them all was the bitter taste of relief.

I glanced at Larry to confirm this wasn’t a delusion of my mind.

“Holy shit, Howie, this tastes amazing!”

“Thanks, I put my blood , sweat, and tears into it!”

I wink at Larry.

“Ah fuck, you’ve poisoned me.” Larry said, taking a bite out of the fried salmon. 

I only used the salt and fresh peppercorns to season it. The salmon did the rest of the work. The filet was fried to a golden hue and by Larry’s smile, it was also decadent.

I felt proud for a brief moment, then disturbed since I didn’t even remember cooking it.

“Those classes really made you into a master chef, Howard.”

“Eh, it helps to have good ingredients and a swarpt* guest.” I say as Larry licks his bowl.

I feel free with the stress left behind me. My body feels so light I feel like I could fly. I eat in peace now. 

I could truly appreciate the calming rain. I sat there, savoring the steam that fogs my windows, embedding myself in the warmth that felt like my mother’s hands. I felt my eyes grow tired and my mind become flooded with nostalgia as I lifted the bowl to slurp up the last of the broth. 

Suddenly I am home, as a child again. I hear the clicking of the spoon as my mother stirs my honey tea. I smell the crisp crust of shortening bread cooking on the stove. I feel the soft cotton of my blankie protect me from the cold. I see my mother’s smile, something I have not seen in a while. I wish to stay there but I must move on.

Larry had managed to eat all his food. His belly really was that big. I could not help but walk over to him and hug him. Larry sinks into the hug, his matted fur now soft and shiny. His warmth had grown and the sweat and soil in his clothes smelled of home.

It all comes together like a good soup.

My cut lip hurt too much to kiss him truly, but I settled by nuzzling his nose with mine. 

“I'll always come back for you. I love you, Larry.” I whisper into his ear.

Larry kisses my cheek.

“I love you too, Howie.”

My heart bursts with love. I notice the pain of love is similar to that of a broken heart, but that pain breaks down all hope and desire for self-preservation. The pain of love fills you with an excruciating and thumping feeling to keep moving forward.

I want to fall asleep in Larry’s arms but I stop myself from doing so. No dream could be as blissful as this. 

I yawn and so does Larry.

“Do you want to sleep with me here?” I murmur as I snuggle my head into his neck.

“Of course, just not in this chair."

"Yeah, yeah, I meant in general, like in my apartment."

"Oh, you meant that kind of sleep." Larry looked around.

"Can I have the spot next to the radiator? That's the warmest spot." Larry says innocently.

"Well, I meant in my bed."

I look up to my bunk above me.

"Just help me get it down."

With a tug and a thud, the bed came crashing down. Knocking over some things on the table like the already broken tv. 

The mattress was small and only meant for one person. 

We can manage.

I organized the covers and fluffed my pillow to make my bed more presentable. Though I regretted doing that immediately as I was wide awake again. The allure and comfort of sleep made me brave. Anxiety returned like the rising tide. 

It’s just a question. You’ve lost him before, what difference does it make if you lose him again? 

“Do you want to sleep in the same bed as me, Larry?”

“Hm? You’re moving rather quickly, Howard.”

“I’m sorry-”

“Of course.”

Larry crawled into bed and wrapped himself in the cover like a cacoon. I thought how weird it was that we had both been wearing our shoes this entire time as Larry slid his own boots off. Always forgetting the little things.

“You gonna sleep like that? You can wear one of my bathrobes if you’d like.” 

“I always sleep with my clothes on. Besides, they’re comfortable and functional.”

Larry burrowed his head into my pillow. 

“Are you going to join me?” Larry yawned. I could not tell if he was being playful or teasing me. That worried me.

If the artifact hadn’t been on my back I would’ve joined Larry on the floor of his tent. Maybe I could’ve just laid close to him. Anything to be close to him. How I wished he asked that question then.

“Yeah, lemme just get out of these clothes.” I kept the shirt on and found some old exercise shorts that I hadn’t used. I looked back at Larry instinctively before I started to take off my pants. Though it doesn’t matter now if he saw me undress. I was barefoot now and the shirt extended over my shorts. All I needed now was a balloon and I could cosplay a pregnant woman. I remember Anatoly joking about his pregnant wife. I can’t recall what the joke was but the thought of Anatoly made me smile.

He’s safe now with his family. Away from me.

Larry’s rhythmic breathing made me fear that he had already fallen asleep. But he was there looking up at me when I returned.

“I haven’t seen you look like that in years.” Larry looked me over. “Are you gonna join me? I won’t push you over; I don’t move a lot when I sleep.” Larry mumbled. 

I slowly lay down next to him, awkwardly laying on my side as I faced him. The bed had enough room for us to be apart but that’s not what I wanted. I edge closer to him. “I'm gonna hug you now, okay?” Before Larry responds he rolls over to me and presses against my side. 

“You don’t have to ask me anymore, Howie.” He snuggled his head under mine. 

I had not felt this warmth, this heat, in a long time. But with him, it felt completely new. I wrapped my arms around him, nestling his head on my arm. My scarred hand stroked the back of his head. I kept him close where he was safe. I kept him close where I was safe. I bristled my nose against his ear which twitched as I softly breathed on it. 

I was afraid to press my entire body against him. I don’t think I could handle that kind of heat right now. Ever so still, I managed to keep calm as all my dreams had come true. Though I had jumped when Larry quickly kissed my neck, it made him giggle. He had to coax me back into his arms. “Tenderneck,” he poked as he kissed my cheek instead. He continued to kiss my face until I stopped flinching. Until the heat in my face became soothing instead of uncomfortable.

“See, that wasn’t too bad, was it man?” He rubs his face against mine. 

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Aww, I’m already in your heart.”

“Like cholesterol.”

Larry pokes my belly.

“I don’t think that’s my fault.”

I look into his eyes. The iridescent glow of the moon is still in them. I don’t feel alone anymore. I feel a true connection as I press against him. I kiss him quickly on his lips even though it hurts. I felt awkward staring at him, so I tried to switch to awkward small talk instead.

“My soap smells better on you.”

“Y’know you’d smell about the same if you had taken a bath too. Even your kiss tasted like your sour sweat.”

“I'll take a bath in the morning.”

“You better.”

My shirt kept getting snagged under Larry as we shifted and moved in our embrace. 

“Gimme a second, Larry.” I took off my shirt and tossed it to the side. I rejoined Larry hesitantly.

“I’ve seen you without your shirt on, whatcha worried about?” 

“It’s just that…I feel like I’m crossing a boundary without a shirt on.”

“Oh Howie, it practically feels the same with that thin shirt on.”

“I guess you're right”

“Want me to take my shirt off too?”

“Oh, I think I'm gonna take this slowly.”

Larry giggles. “You’re so soft. Come over here.” Larry guides me closer and I snuggle against him. He strokes the fur on my back and I freeze. “Don’t worry, I just wanted to know how your fur feels” The tension in my muscles released and I got used to his touch. His hand flows down to my waist, right under my ribs. “What happened here?

“Oh, some drunk guy slashed me when I caught him cheating on his wife.” I said as Larry rubbed my scar.
“Oh, Howie..”

“Don’t worry, I'm not taking dangerous cases like that anymore.”

I look down at Larry’s hands. “You’re still wearing your gloves.”

“Oh yeah, I don’t take off my gloves even while sleeping. The pressure of them helps with the aches.”

“May I see them?”

“What?”

“Can I see your hands?”

“Is that like a f-”

“No, It’s just that a person’s hands tell a lot about who they are.”

“Oh, so it’s just a weird detective thing. Go crazy, Howie.” Larry takes off his white gloves slowly, making sure not to turn them inside out. He didn’t seem to care about my blood on them.

I already knew what his hands looked like. His scars and calluses were still there. What I really wanted to do was lift up his hands and kiss them, which is exactly what I did. Larry’s breath grew warmer. 

“Just wanted to hold them again.”

The steam in the air had begun to cool, but the warm aroma of the soup still lingered. The covers grew heavy as our bodies begged for more. My confidence was as high as the drunken stupor the drowsiness gave me. I reached under Larry’s shirt. Larry flinched. 

“Relax, I’m just trying to feel your fur.” 

I stroke upwards on his belly until I drag my fingers over his jutting ribs.

I do not stop myself from screaming.

I let out a cry of sheer and utter mourning.

I jump out of bed and frantically kick myself away from him

“Oh Fuck! OH CHR-”

I start to heave and gag. 

I’m on my knees, arched over. I puke out my dinner as blood drips from my lip. My palm begins to bleed again as I tighten my fists. My back aches.

“Howard!”

Larry runs over to me and starts to pat my back.

The tears flow like acid down my face. I gasp for air but the air won’t come

So thin. He was so thin. His skin was simply tightened leather around a corpse.

“It’s all-it’s all…It’s All My Fault! IT'S ALL MY FAULT! IT'S ALL MY FUCKING FAULT!”

Larry held onto me. He kept asking what was wrong with me but I could not answer. The world was spinning and I could feel my body caving in. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I tried to see but I only saw fire. And the world was being flooded by a black water. If the flames did not engulf me I would surely drown. Larry was towering over me now. But I could not touch him. I could not feel his warmth. I could not feel the freezing cool of the water. I could not feel the scorching blisters of the flame. I could not feel the sun on my skin. I looked over a dead world, with its dead crops, with its poisoned water. I was at its center. It’s the origin. It’s true apotheosis.

What I remember next was staring into Larry’s cold, sunken eyes, as he held my face.

I blinked at him. My eyes are dry and my throat is burning. 

“Larry, what’s wrong?” I asked as I processed what had just happened wasn’t a dream. “Did…I hurt you again?” I held his face. My hand-stained his fur with red.

The smell of his sweat and my vomit hit me at once. My eyes adjusted to the dim light. The neon light outside hurt the inside of my skull.

      “You started shouting and then you just went quiet.” Larry said with a raspy voice.

    “Your eyes kept twitching and were rocking back and forth, mumbling something. You wouldn't even look at me” 

I noticed that a new piece of cloth was wrapped around my hand. I had bled through it but I could still see some of the original colors. It was yellow. It was part of Larry’s scarf.

“Larry…let me see your arm,” I say coldly.

“What? Please Howie, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Please, just show me.”

Larry rolls his sleeve up to his forearm but not past his elbow. I say nothing as I force his sleeve up and twist his arm that his palm faces up. And there it was, what I already knew was there. Scars shaped like little holes littered the point where his vein popped up.

“Ho-”

I pull his shirt up next and my eyes prove that what I had felt had been real. His stomach caved in and his ribs stuck out. 

“It’s all my fault.” I could not bring myself to cry.

“Howard…” The concern in his voice only fueled my self-hatred.

“If I hadn’t left you, none of this would have happened.”

“Howard, that’s not true, I just had a bit of bad luck, is all.”

“If I hadn’t left you, you wouldn't have dropped out of college.”

My eyes burned and my body trembled in rage.

“If I never left you…your business would never have failed.”

Larry was crying, but the tears were for me. I can’t stand the sight of him.

“If I stayed by your side, you’d still have a home. You’d never have resorted to drugs. You wouldn't be starving. If I had just been the friend you needed…you would have had the life you deserve.”

The blood in my mouth tasted of nothing. My heart kept beating but I could not feel its pressure. My lungs breathed in no life. My stomach was empty, my kidneys broken. When would death come for me?

I inhaled sharply as Larry hugged me.

“Larry, I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“Shut up. Listen to me, Howard.”

Larry held my hand, putting pressure on my wound.

“I’m here now, okay? I’m here with you now. You need to let go of what happened between us.”

“I can’t be forgiven…”

“This isn’t about forgiveness. It’s about what we can do right now. You made me feel safe and warm for the first time in years. You made me some of the best food I’ve ever had. Nothing you’ve done can ever change that.”

“You deserve so much better than me.” I spit out.

“I don’t care what I deserve, I want you!” Larry yells as he grabs my shoulders.

“Howard, I know what’s happening to us is a fucked up mess, but we can be happy together. We’re allowed to be happy, Howard.”

I stare into Larry’s eyes as the bleeding stops. I see myself in his desperation. 

“Please, stay with me, Howard.”

I say nothing as I hug him back.

“I think I can manage that,” I choke out.

I rock with him in the stale moonlight. The sound of our breathing broke the cruel silence of the night. The rain had stopped and the last of the taxis had stopped running for the night. The last city was a city that sleeps.

I stood with him like that until my feet hurt too much to stand. He put his head on my shoulder as we sat on the floor.

“Please, let me give you a feast every day. For now at least.”

Larry nods. “You need to drink some water, Howard. We can worry about the future tomorrow.”

“Okay… yeah, okay.”

He guides me to the sink for a glass of water. It burns my throat as I drink it. He guides my hand as he makes me eat bread to fill my stomach. He holds my hand as he disinfects my wounds. He helps me change my clothes. He helps me clean up the puke on the floor and he dumps a bottle of peppermint oil in warm water to help with the smell. At last, he guides me to bed.

    I lay down with him and I embrace him without fear. I rest his head on my chest and I wrap my arms around his waist.

“I love you, Larry.”

“I love you too, Howie”

As I drifted to sleep I heard the rain return. It’s precious water feeding the earth’s fertile soil. It will create puddles that the children will play in tomorrow. The rain guides the streams and oceans to a better world. I can taste the sweetness of it as the rain kisses the bloom and warmth and fresh air of the morning sun. I can feel the life it gives to the people of this world. How its cool touch soothes their wounds. Let it rain… and I’ll keep Larry warm.

Chapter Text

    It is dark. There is a pulsing pain rippling throughout my face. I blink my eyes to get the crust of sleep out of them. I had no dreams. I do not feel rested in the slightest. The sound of rain is gone and I hear only soft breathing beside me. I inhale instinctively, waking myself up further. I wrap an arm around Larry's thin body and kiss him as softly as I can. I feel his breath on my face as my eyes adjust. "He looks so peaceful." I think. The sadness on his face is no longer there. He shifts slightly, closer to me.

  He's alive… He's alive and he loves me.

I yawn and stretch as slowly as I can; annoyed with how loud my joints popping are. I shift uncomfortably, my throat is dry and I need to piss. I push myself up then stop,

What if he wakes up while I'm gone?

I cringe at the thought of Larry wondering where I went. I almost bite my lip again, but I only bite into empty air.

Ugh, you're being stupid. Larry's not some fragile princess who'll weep when I'm gone. Just go to the bathroom and stop staring at him like a creep.

I roll away from Larry and get up, unceremoniously. Every time the floor creaks it feels like a bomb going off. Larry didn't even shift a little.

Stop being stupid, Howard.

The bathroom door knob hurts to turn and the hinges let out a shrieking creak. Which may as well be a coughing fly to Larry's ears. Not a stir from him.

See, you're overreacting. Dumbass.

After pissing I examined my various wounds. The first and most painful was my lower lip. The gauze was completely soaked but the bleeding had seemed to stop. The blood was dry and sticky.

That explains why the gauze didn't fall out in my sleep. I'll have to change it and apply more disinfectant. I'll wait for the morning.

My hand was wrapped with a piece of Larry's scarf. Its happy yellow was tarnished with my ugly blood. The sight of it filled me with a crushing sadness. But I was tired of feeling like shit. Larry cares too much about me.

I turn off the light and walk back to bed without caring how loud my footsteps are. I lay back next to Larry and appreciate his warmth. He sleeps like a baby.

I don't know if I'll be able to go back to sleep. My thoughts are racing at a thousand miles per hour. Unbearingly awake.

What time is it? How long until I have to get up?  It should be around 4 a.m. given that's when I usually wake up at night. So about three and a half hours until I wake up again. I can talk with Larry before Anatoly comes at nine. Maybe longer If Anatoly is late. But Anatoly is never late…

The quiet unsettles me. I can hear every shift of the covers and every hoarse breath that Larry takes. I expected his breathing to be comforting but I am filled with thoughts of it suddenly stopping.

Think of something else Howard.

I press myself gently against Larry, only enough to feel his warmth. I curl my head under his and feel his breath bristle the fur on top of my head. I try to enjoy the moment the best I can.

I could leave all the horrors behind and spend eternity with Larry. I could love him forever… I could finally rest.

I can't bite my lip anymore. I have nothing holding me back from crying. So the tears fall and my breath ing shakes.

I can't…

I know I can't…

My tears rolled across my face and wet the covers. Larry's breathing remains unchanged.

I have already forgotten too many things. In a couple more resets I'll go insane or I'll be reduced to a thoughtless piece of meat.

I have to keep moving forward.

I have to keep moving forward until this nightmare is over…If this nightmare can even end. Are those memories gone forever? How much have I already forgotten?

When is my mom's birthday? How old am I? What is my father's name? Who was my first crush? What is my favorite song? My favorite food? I don't remember. I don't remember and it's driving me to despair.

I resist the urge to dig my claws into my face.

No. no. no. don't go into that dark place! You have to be strong for Larry.

I rock my head up and down to soothe my nerves. I choke my whimpers and steady my gasps. My memories of Larry before the loop are weakening but the memories of today are staying strong. Larry still has his sanity. I'll have to rely on him as a mental crutch. I have to believe that the timeline continues to branch forward even after I reset. I have to believe that Larry has a life after this hell. If I can't live for myself, I'll live for Larry.

My precious Larry, I'll give you all my money, and my apartment too. But will that be enough for you? I don't think I can give you anything that will make up for what I did.

I stretch out and sigh, my tears beginning to dry. I wrap my arms around Larry and give him a tight squeeze, no longer caring if I wake him up. He stirs and lets out a small groan. He shuffles himself closer to me and snuggles his head under mine. He quickly goes back to soundly sleeping, his breathing a little lighter.

My love will do for now…

I know that if I go back to sleep the nightmares will return, but at least I won't have to dream alone.

I close my eyes and sink into Larry's warmth, letting sleep consume me entirely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wake up with a dull buzzing pain in my lip. There's a beam of morning light stabbing directly into my eyes. I take in a deep breath, readying my body to get up. I stretch out, hearing all my joints pop out in satisfaction. I focus my eyes on Larry, still sleeping. I give him a quick kiss on his nose before rolling out of bed. I need to piss again and my throat is drier than before. I stumble to the bathroom once more and let the door slam behind me.

I guess I won't be able to brush my teeth for a while. At least I won't smell any worse than I already do.

I take out the gauze from my mouth, the fabric dry and crusted. I examine my wound in the mirror, looking for signs of infection.

What the fuck?!

The wound was completely healed. A scab casing fell off my lip and crumbled to dust like a dried leaf. The bloodied area of the wound now matched the rosy pink of my tattered lip. My future of cold shivers and the smell of antiseptic was gone in an instant.

I prod at the avulsion, expecting to recoil, but was met with a lame numbing pulse throughout my face.

My eyes darted to my hand. I remove Larry's scarf and find that my palm is completely healed too. The infected puncture wounds have been reduced to scar tissue over black skin.

I didn't know whether I should be in shock or in awe but I knew the only emotion I could appreciate was relief.

I knew that if I brought myself to question this miraculous occurrence, I'd exhaust what little mental energy I had.

Larry will probably think it looks cool though.

I spent a bit longer in the bathroom than I wanted, the dried blood wouldn't wash itself out of my hair and claws.

No time to take a bath, even though I promised Larry I'd take one…That grabby skint probably used up all my soap anyway.

I douse myself in a pitiful piss of cologne from a half-empty bottle labeled, "Oaken Brocksour".

I wish I had some lemon oil. Shit, when was the last time I held a lemon? They haven't sold them since Kaluul died. I just wanna burst one in my hands and cover myself in its juice. Though I guess I could always squeeze Larry's lemon if I wanted to. I cringe at myself.

Larry was out cold, he looked content as a log on a river's edge. The morning sun cascaded off his fur like a halo. It revealed a blanket of dust that hovered over him like skittering flies.

There lies the king of dirt.

~~~~

The broth began to boil and the air was filled with last night's comfort.

Glasses and bowls click together as I set up the countertop for breakfast. My hands tremble as I pour out the soup. I have not felt hunger pains this strong since I was a kid. I was tempted to scarf down the still-scalding hot food.

Nah, Larry eats first.

I walk over to Larry and think of kicking him. I instead got down and lay next to him in bed. I look at him for a moment and appreciate how soft and cute he looks. Though that made me want to slap him even more. I lean over and place my hand gently on his cheek. I kiss Larry quickly but hard on the neck, before shaking him like a cloth doll.

"Fuck!" Larry yelped. His head spun like a top and his limbs were flailing like a ruffled geezer. I saw him frantically reach into his pockets…looking for a knife, shit.

"Larry!" He becomes a statue, the fear frozen on his face as he stares at me.

"You Dick!" He throws a pillow at me, smacking me across the face. I reflexively grab the pillow midair and take aim. I swing with the might of a wheat harvester and his scythe and hurl the pillow at Larry's head. It shoots through the air with terrifying speed, and like an arrow fired from a master archer, it perfectly misses its target.

I immediately lunged toward him and hugged him as hard as I could. Larry let out a soft squeak as I showered his face with kisses.

I heard him mutter more insults as I pressed his head against my chest.

"You're gonna get blood all over me." Larry laughed.

"You won't look any worse covered in blood" I rub my face into his as he recoils in disgust.

We stood there for a moment, basking in the sunlight. I sway back and forth with Larry, in a stationary dance. I kiss him again and caress his cheek.

"I made you breakfast, my honey husband."

Larry sniffs the air.

"All you did was heat up soup." Larry snickered,

"Well, I made it didn't I?"

"And since when were we married?" He frowned.

I shrugged, "Since yesterday"

"Oh? Then why didn't I get a wedding?"

"Why didn't I get a loving husband?"

How good this feeling is, my body is so light.

I feel his boney frame as I hug him.

If I squeeze him hard enough his ribs will crack.

My jaw tightens but I quickly relax it.

It's just another stupid morbid thought. Don't let them get to you.

I kiss him one more time.

"Come eat some soup, dear."

"Can I pee first?"

I cringe, "Yeah sure, I'll wait for you."

I watch Larry walk to the bathroom and close the door.

I sigh. Doesn't seem he noticed the lip yet. I don't even know how I'll explain this shit to him. Maybe it can help me convince him about my time shenanigans. Yeah, I'll just tell him the space-time continuum gave me rapid healing powers. If he's insane enough to stick with me after all the hell I've put him through, he will believe this.

I stare at the steam coming from my bowl. I analyze the way it twirls and swirls into the sunlight and disappears in the shadow. I glance at Larry's bowl. I gave him the best bits in his soup again. Precious blobs of oil float on top of the broth as the-

"Howie, are you-"

"FUCK!"

I jump in my chair, nearly falling over. My eyes shoot up to meet Larry's frightened face.

"Soup," I say between breaths.

"Yeah, I see that." Larry looks down. "You good?"

I didn't like the amount of concern in his voice. It pissed me off, but I didn't know why.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good. I just zoned out again." I look away from him, "You find everything good?" I say, desperately trying to cover my embarrassment.

"In the bathroom? Yeah, better than what I got." Larry rubs his hands together and looks out the window. "Too bad I left my toothbrush at the bridge."

"You can use mine," I say without hesitation.

Larry turns to say something but stops as he tries to process what I just said.

Fuck.

"I mean, I got a spare, under the counter." I chuckle and grin a bit too widely.

Thank fuck I actually have a spare.

Larry slowly sits down and gives me a slight smile.

"I appreciate it, Howie."

"No problem man, eat up"

You were just calling him your husband a second ago, stop fucking this up, Howard.

We sit in silence as we eat our breakfast. I don't even try to say anything. I just went back to staring at him like a creep. Seeing him eat made me happy.

Because you care about him or because it makes you feel less guilty?

I shake my head violently as if I could dislodge the thought.

I hear the drop of a spoon.

"You sure you're alright man?" Larry says in that same pathetic voice he uses.

"Yeah, just tired."

"Uh-huh." Larry grunts.

Fuck, stop being such a fuck up you fucking poor excuse to a fucking detective.

"Uhh, remember what I told Anatoly about picking us up at nine?"

Larry freezes and slowly locks eyes with me.

"Yeah, I remember, where are we even going?"

Just to meet someone I've met before but they haven't met me yet. Time travel isn't that complicated if you don't think about it, Larry.

"To meet a friend that can help me—a friend that can help us."

"Do they know anything that can help shed light on whatever the hell is wrong with you?" Larry sneers.

"Yeah, they're the greatest, smartest person I've ever met. If anyone can help me it's them." I smile, trying to reassure Larry. His expression doesn't change.

"And who exactly is this friend of yours? A psychologist? A psychiatrist?"

What a polite way to call me crazy.

"They're an author, but more importantly they're a journalist that's better at uncovering mysteries than I am."

"That's not exactly hard to do, Howie"

"They're the best shot I got to get to the bottom of this Larry. I'm sure you'll love her."

Larry's ear twitches at my last sentence. He inhales suddenly then relaxes.

"We should head outside soon. It's almost nine." Larry sips the last of the broth in his bowl as he stands up.

"Damn," I say under my breath. I barely touched my soup. I rush to my closest and throw out my usual outfit on the ground. I start undressing in front of Larry who quickly turns around.

I wouldn't mind if he looked though.

"You can look now," I say as I button the last of my shirt. Larry had dressed himself as well.

His outfit still looked worn and dirty but he looked so much happier than before.

I kiss him, long and hard. I hold his waist and squeeze the back of his neck.

I love you so much.

I pull away and candle his face in my hands. But Larry isn't smiling. His fingers hover over my lips.

"How did it—how did it heal so fast?" His breath shudders.

"Timelords gave me healing powers." I shrug.

Larry says nothing and continues to stare at my lips.

HONK HONK

I instantly recognize the sound of Anatoly's horn.

"Fuck, we need to go."

I grab Larry's hand and drag him to the door. I put on my dirty coat before locking the door and running down the stairs.

I see Anatoly's in the morning light, looking as fat and happy as ever. I feel a warmth in my chest. I want to kiss him.

Maybe I should.

I don't shake out this thought.

"Howdy, Howie! Howdy, Larry!" Anatoly booms.

I enter the cab feeling almost euphoric. Immediately, Anatoly tries to hand me the bag of loons I gave him yesterday. I push his hand away.

"I meant it yesterday," I say confidently.

"Really, I just thought you finally went crazy." Anatoly gave me one of his rare worried looks.

"I'm fine, I'm no crazier than I've ever been. I just want to show you I appreciate you."

"I appreciate you enough for being my friend, Howie"

The genuine tone in his voice made me almost panic. I wasn't ready to feel such strong emotions yet. I cough and laugh awkwardly.

"How're the kids, big fella?" I say, mimicking his usual happy demeanor.

"Oh they're raising hell as always, my little one pooped again." Anatoly laughs as if nothing happened.

"That's good, always good when they start pooping."

"You seem rather upbeat today, Howie. What changed?"

"Just had a nice evening with my friend, that's all." I grab Larry by the shoulder and gently shake him. He looks like he wants to hide.

"Speaking of nice things, I got you your present," Anatoly whispers.

Anatoly reaches under his chair and pulls out a small black box. He hands me the box slowly, that worried look again in his eyes.

I open the box and find a shiny black revolver staring back at me. It was fully loaded. I sneak it into my coat pocket as if it were just a pen.

I could feel Larry's gaze on me. I ignore him

"Thank you, Anatoly," I mutter.

"Just don't shoot yourself with it, Howie."

"Don't plan on it."

Anatoly laughs a bit too loudly.

"So where are we headed?"

"1640 Alberni, near the docks," I say robotically.

"Yeah, near the docks. Say you're not planning on shooting someone over there, ya?" Anatoly says jokingly, but I can't help but sense a bit of sincerity in his voice.

"Nah, just there to meet a friend."

Anatoly seemed to relax.

"A lady of yours?"

"Something like that."

The drive there was uneventful, Anatoly talked more about his wife and kids and I gratefully listened. I was never going to take Anatoly's stories for granted ever again.

I sat close to Larry, but I was afraid to cuddle with him lest Anatoly suspects something. I emptied my mind the best I could. I wanted a moment of peace before I had to face Renee.

And the moment faded quickly, the cab jerked to a stop.

"You gonna need me to pick you up later, Howie?"

"Nope, I won't be needing you anytime soon. Go hustle some people in Gastown for me."

"Sure thing, Howie." Anatoly grins at me, and that warm feeling returns.

Larry and I stepped out of the cab and were about to start walking when I reentered it quickly.

"I almost forgot something," I said gayly.

I give Anatoly a big and wet smooch on the cheek as I caress his face.

I lean back and see Anatoly staring at me with the widest eyes I've ever seen.

"Howie, I'm married."

"It was a platonic kiss," I say nothing else and shut the cab door behind me. I wave goodbye to him and start walking away with an equally shocked Larry.

"What?" Anatoly says as confused as ever.

~

"I didn't know you too were that close," Larry mumbles.

"There's nothing wrong with kissing your friends goodbye, Larry."

"Of course not, it's just a bit queer." Larry looks down.

We only had to walk a block before we reached the outside of Renee's apartment complex. The feeling of dread returns to my chest as I stare up at the windows.

"Ok, I'll do all the talking, Larry. If she asks, just say you're my assistant."

"I went from your husband to your assistant in less than an hour." Larry coughs.

"You can be both. C'mon, I'm ready for you to meet her."

I'm not ready at all.

I climb up the steps, trying to push down my fear as I get closer and closer to Renee's apartment.

You can do this Howard. You have to.

My fist hovers over her door before meekly knocking twice.

"You're gonna love her" I say, looking back at Larry the same way a child looks at their mother for help. Larry's expression stays neutral.

The door swings open and Renee is inches away from me.

 She stares straight at me, eyes wide open, and yells, "Howard?!"