Chapter Text
Winter
‘’Jas misses you,’’ Shane tells Kenny, lowering himself to sit on the steps in front of the farmhouse. He carries a can of Joja cola, and a huge, thick jacket hangs from his shoulders. He’s still wearing shorts, though — Kenny’s not sure he’s ever seen Shane not wearing shorts. He must have a permanent tan line just above his knees.
‘’You should bring her over,’’ Kenny suggests. He’d like to see Jas again. There's no shortage of activities to do with a kid during winter: Snowmen, snowball fights, ice skating, tree decorating. Instead of sunscreen, though, Jas would need to be bundled up. A scarf, a hat, gloves that won't get impossibly soggy while rolling up snowballs and give her frostbite. Boots, too — Ones that aren’t scuffed up and full of holes like Kenny’s are.
However, Shane scoffs and turns to look at Kenny sceptically. ‘’And risk you killing yourself on the clock? No way.’’
‘’I’m not gonna kill myself on the clock,’’ Kenny laughs, and leans back on his hands. ‘’I worked at Joja. I’m basically an expert at not killing myself on the clock. I’d wait until you’ve come to pick her up, at least.’’
‘’I’d never bring her over again if you did that.’’
‘’Shit,’’ Kenny replies, and Shane smiles at him, amused.
There’s something serene about the winter. The paintless landscape, the quiet of the night, the way that the river still flows regardless of the temperature. There isn’t a lot to do, but a change of pace isn’t always a bad thing. The ability to live life without a myriad of tasks hanging over his head is peaceful, and the whole town has a quiet air to it. Animal footprints in the snow, mornings in front of the fireplace, wearing a sweater to bed. The kind of atmosphere that makes a person stop. Appreciate.
Life is fucking difficult. Beyond difficult. Borderline impossible. But, Kenny isn’t the only person who’s ever felt that way, and for once, it doesn’t act as a source of guilt. He hates to admit it, but everyone was right. Shane was right when he told Kenny that he needs to let people give a shit about him, just like how Sam was when he said that heartbreak was better than regret, and like when his mother told him that he’ll never know where the wind will take him.
Anyone could have predicted that the wind would carry him towards daily medication and weekly therapy sessions. A predetermination, but maybe not a curse. Just a fact of his life, just as it is for many other people’s. Shane’s, Sebastian’s. Nothing to be ashamed of, but still something he is ashamed of. Maybe one day, though, the embarrassment will subside. Maybe one day he won’t need the pills anymore, maybe one day life will become a little bit easier. But, even it doesn’t, he has a family. Not one provided him to him through birth, but one he developed by himself. Through humouring Abby in the saloon, and falling in love with Alex, and frying up vegetables for Shane in his time of need. Pulled together by the tide, and intertwined by the ivy that grow up the back of the farmhouse.
The sky and the ground share the same grey-white colour, though the light allows the snow to sparkle at the right angle. A couple of leftover, dead sprouts from the fall peek through it. Brown and wilted, but still the recipients of fondness regardless. Nothing can grow in these conditions. The animals are confined to their respective homes, and the trees are totally bare. But, they too are the recipients of fondness regardless. The world moves in cycles, through hours, days, seasons and years. The tide brings the sea in and out, and the sun rises every morning without fail.
Alex comes home after work, too. When he does, he takes his hoodie off and hangs it over the back of the sofa. His bag sits by the front door along with his shoes, with an extra, more sport-appropriate pair tied to his bag by the laces. He wraps his arms around Kenny’s waist, kisses his cheek, and before anything else, asks him how his day was. A new routine, because even though Alex works through the winter now, it means he can come home at the end of the day and lovingly scratch the underneath of Udon’s chin.
Life can be good because Kenny can allow it to be. He doesn’t have to follow the siren’s song. Alex comes home at the end of the day because he cares. Maybe one day soon he can get a fish tank, and have sea families and sea saloons of his own. Just because the fish aren’t in the sea doesn’t mean they can’t be happy. Just because things are different doesn’t mean they’re bad.
Shane takes a sip of his Joja cola, and then cradles it in his gloved hands. ‘’Jokes aside, I’ll bring her over sometime soon. She’d like to see you.’’
‘’Thanks,’’ Kenny replies. It sounds underwhelming for what it actually is. Not just a thanks in regards to Jas, but kind of in regards to everything. Shane is a good, reliable friend. The kind of friend that Kenny really needed in his teenage years. Now, too, really. Maybe always. ‘’For looking out for me.’’
Shane shrugs. ‘’I’d do it a million times over. I’ll probably never stop doing it, actually. I feel responsible for you. Like you’re my little brother, or something.’’
Once a younger brother, always a younger brother. Always someone that people are going to take under their wing and feel the need to protect. Always someone that people are going to give a shit about, and it’s a good thing that they do, because he struggles to treat himself with the same kindness. It’s impossible, and almost unfathomable when people do, but someone has to. Maybe people should feel responsible for each other. Maybe that responsibility is what makes the world turn.
‘’I’ve been little brother zoned? That’s a big step away from boyfriend treatment,’’ Kenny jokes, and Shane raises an eyebrow.
‘’Yeah, in case you didn’t realise, I don’t actually want to be your boyfriend. No offense. You’re a fuckin’ handful. Alex is the most patient man alive.’’
‘’I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m the perfect amount of hand,’’ Kenny deflects.
‘’Yeah, I fuckin’ bet you are,’’ Shane mutters almost begrudgingly and side-eyes Kenny. He then takes another swig of his Joja Cola as if it were alcohol, while Kenny drops his head and laughs to himself. This was what we wanted, really.
The most unremarkable parts of life are the parts he enjoys the most. Sitting in the snow with wet socks and cold toes, sleeping in until ten, the click of a friend’s lighter, the gift of knowing another person. Knowing himself is a burden — the most exhausting thing on planet Earth — But knowing others is a blessing. Being able to love someone, and miss them when they aren’t around, is human. Remembering the curve of someone’s nose, and the way their hair looks at the nape of their neck is a labour of love. Alex poking him in the mornings, asking how he’s feeling that day, and still kissing him before leaving for work regardless of the answer, is the most special thing of all. Hearts drawn into the steam of the bathroom mirror. A glass of water on the bedside table.
He’ll miss Allan forever. But, at least they had the privilege of knowing each other. Of being brothers, for as long as it lasted. At least Kenny had the opportunity to have his life and personality shaped by someone who was so good. Spending so many years trying not to think about Allan was doing him a disservice, and Kenny doesn’t want to do that anymore. Sure, it may never stop hurting, but at least Allan will be able to exist somewhere. Through stories and fond moments taken to reminisce, because what Kenny does remember of Allan, is his heart.
‘’Oh, by the way…’’ Shane begins, and reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket. ‘’I bumped into Leah not too long ago, and she asked me to give you this. I was waiting for the right moment.’’
Shane’s hand emerges from his jacket, a smallish notepad in his hand. Except, it’s not a notepad at all — It’s a sketchpad. A real one, with wire binding and actual sketchbook paper, as opposed to the crappy thing with thin, flimsy paper that Kenny’s been doodling in for all this time. Kenny gratefully takes it from Shane with both hands, and opens it with the intention of flipping through the blank pages. However, on the first page is a note, written in perfect print.
Kenny
I thought you could use this. Please draw everything that makes you happy.
Get well soon!
Leah
Kenny smiles at himself, gently tracing his finger over the pencil lines. She probably used pencil so that he can erase it, Kenny assumes. He’s not going to do that, though. He doesn’t remember the last time he owned a sketchbook, but as Leah once said, a sketchbook can be a friend. The act of drawing is, within itself, a friend. And maybe, so is Leah. One of those friendships that doesn’t end up in intertwined lives and knowledge of each other’s hearts like the back of a hand, but one that serves some kind of purpose. Those friendships can be just as important. Leah cares.
There is so much friendship to catch up on. So many times they could have hung out but didn’t, because Kenny was hiding himself away in more ways than one. He has so many of the band’s shows to go to, so many dinners to make, so many anniversaries to celebrate, so much of the boat to repair. Little things that will keep him going, because they have to. The most unremarkable parts of life become the most important. Those are the things to live for.
‘’I didn’t know you draw,’’ Shane comments, predictably. Neither did anyone else. Kenny himself barely knew. A life totally forgotten, buried by the weight of everything else.
‘’Kind of,’’ Kenny replies. He closes the sketchbook, and places it on his knees. ‘’I’m not very good.’’
‘’I bet you are. You’ve never admitted to being good at anything, but you’re good at a lot of stuff. You’re very adaptable.’’
‘’Are you gonna zip my pants up when you’re done, too?’’ Kenny asks, grinning, and Shane punches his shoulder. He’s never considered himself to be an adaptable person, and the last couple of months seem to be unequivocal proof of the fact that he very much isn’t, but whatever. He’ll accept the compliment. One of many things he needs to get better at.
Kenny will draw what makes him happy. The cat and Abby, as usual, but horizons can be broadened. Fish, if he gets a fish tank. Fish families and fish saloons and the way a fish glistens underneath the sun. Unremarkable things, but things he gives a shit about nevertheless.
The sun will return. Spring will arrive, as it does, and the town will come back to life again. There’s life in the fish he catches and inspects. There’s vulnerability in creativity, and fulfilment in productivity, and love in his life. People who give a shit about him, who worry because they care. People who’s worrying only did Kenny a world of good, despite how much he hated it. He still hates it, to a certain extent, but at least it’s there. Some people don’t have that.
Life doesn’t have to be a never-ending catastrophe, or a cycle of misery that turns and turns. It doesn’t have to be a thing that happens to him, as opposed to alongside him. Maybe nothing will ever be perfect, maybe he’ll never be cured, maybe things will change, maybe people will come and go. Hard work and fear and sadness and grief may always linger, but in many ways, he is so lucky to experience anything at all. A life worth missing. A life worth living. A life that’s worth almost everything, because Pelican Town is his home, and everyone else’s too.
Cursed Archer family bloodline, be damned. Life will be good, because Kenny will allow it to be.