Survival Of The Fittest

"No!"

Declyn angled one of his knees up, as if ready to get up. Wobbling a bit on one knee, he used his hand to support himself.

"Drew, you're asking me to....— to....."

He rubbed his throat, wrinkling his nose. It was getting difficult to talk. He got it, alright. He got it, he understood. It was a last request. To be waiting now; what for? Wait for him to die a crueller death? For all he knew, Drew would be struggling and dying slowly for the rest of the night.

So.... maybe.....

Drew felt his dull, glassy eyes looking more clearly at Declyn in front of him and he felt him closing his eyes tightly for a few moments. He was trying to breathe more easily but it was getting more and more harder to do so and he just felt like he was going to be ill all over again. His body was giving up on him and he didn't want to die a slow, agonizing death. He couldn't, he wouldn't.

"Please…"

He hadn't wanted to beg Declyn like this. But he had no choice. He was making one last desperate attempt with Declyn and he hoped that Declyn didn't want him to die in the next few hours. He was scared of death and he knew that he had to embrace it. Him. Drew the coward had to face down death with a brave smile on his ashen face.

"H....Help me, please."

All he felt was desperation. He couldn’t even cry out for help because he’d learn that no one would come. No matter how loud he cried, he couldn’t stop or change what was happening. No matter what he’d do, the pain would not stop. It was an overwhelming one. Drew's words stung, especially the weak help.

And so far, when Drew asked for help, Declyn had always been there for him.

What am I doing?, he thought for a moment. What is this?

When he reached for his gun, needing two attempts until he could grab it and try to get it out of the self-made holster, he felt Drew’s hand reaching towards it as well and touching him. When their eyes met, Declyn locked his arms around him in an instant, holding him, crying, loving him.

He broke the embrace by returning the cheek on the kiss from before.

“You don’t have to worry about anything anymore...,” he whispered.

The gun was out.

Declyn was holding it with both hands, blinking more than needed to get a better view. His tears didn’t show any signs of stopping.

“Do you w— want me t— o...,” he stuttered and slowly raised it, then stopped and raised his index finger of his free hand instead, poking Drew's forehead. “... like... like— this??”

Drew felt himself breaking down in weaker tears as Declyn embraced him in his warm arms and he felt himself sobbing against Declyn's shoulder. They were both so broken-hearted by all of what was happening and Drew felt Declyn's kiss on his cheek, making Drew felt warmth and more love for the other boy. Declyn was now wanting to know if he wanted to get shot in the forehead and Drew didn't want it to be too messy. He didn't want Declyn to see him like that. He was already making Declyn do the unthinkable to him and he knew that it was the better way to go.

"N-No.... L-Like t....t...this...." He coughed a little.

Drew reached up with his shaky good hand and he touched Declyn's finger, feeling his body wanting to fall backwards at any moment. He then moved Declyn's finger to his chest and he let out a sad chuckle. He didn't know if he was die instantly or not, but it was what he thought was the better idea and he didn't want Declyn to break down more over him. It was hurting so much to see him crying over him and it was already shattering his heart more and more as the minutes went by.

He felt his body laid down onto the ground and he was still clinging onto Declyn's finger in the process. "T-Tell Camilla and Theo that I'm sorry and t-that I love them so much. W-When you find C-Cecil tell h-h-him that I wished that I could have b-b-been a better person about your r-relationship and th-that I hope that he will be y-y-your knight in s-shining amour.... And D-Diego.... Tell him t-that I love him t-t-too and that I-I-I wanted to b-b-be a better friend...." He coughed more and he groaned softly, his hands were resting on his stomach. "I-If you ever see Jackson or Julien or Ty... T-Tell them that I thank them for t-t-taking care of my wound as b-best as they could and t-that I hope that they can stay s-strong through all of this. E-Especially Ty.... E-Erika's actions are effecting him and.... and I-I-I think he needs a friend right now. M-Maybe..."

He closed his eyes again and he was now waiting for it to happen.

"D-Declyn, I love you..."

His finger was pointing right at Drew’s heart.

The barrel of his handgun replaced it.

Listening to each of Drew’s words, he nodded along, memorizing the names. He forced a smile, not wanting his strained face to be Drew’s last memory of him. His finger brushed the trigger, hovering over it. He was still on his knees and shifted beside Drew, his free hand supporting his wrist, making sure he was aiming the gun correctly. It was touching his chest.

“I promise... You know me.”

And had known him for years. Declyn always imagined they would share the same jokes when they reached the age of 60, 70, 80, 90. Share stories and watch each other grow. If only his childish dream of a time machine, his theories he had been working on with others, became reality. If only he had the resources. Now was the time of trying instead of doing nothing.

He closed his eyes.

“I— I will take care of everything... I will— I will make sure Wolf and Gary are okay. They’re okay.” It wasn’t fair. Did pets understand the death of their loving owner? When would they stop waiting? “I love you too,” he repeated. “I love you and... I’ll see you. We’ll see each other again, Drew.”

His eyes opened for a second and closed again.

The crescent moon had risen behind him, the colour of a wild wolf’s underbelly. It lit parts of the lake, and the skin of his arms and hands, with its sickly light.



But it didn't light the bullet that left the gun.

Drew knew that Declyn was a good person at keeping promises and he knew that Declyn would be stronger for him. He just hoped that Declyn would be strong for himself and he didn't want him to give up. He and the other members of the gardening club had to survive for as long as they could. He hoped that they would stay together as a group for a long time and he felt sad that he never said goodbye to Diego. He hoped Diego was safe and that he wasn't doing anything that he would regret.

Declyn was talking about Wolf and Gary and Drew let out a happy chuckle that went into a sob. A smile was on his face and he was thinking about home where everyone could be happier and just having a fun time in general. He thought about magical adventures in the caves with his friends. He thought about Declyn and Cecil and that he was supportive of them being together. He thought about finding a guy that could love him for all his faults and that he could do the same in return. He thought about.... He just thought about Declyn and himself laughing and touching and just being happy forever.

He wished he could stay.

But he knew that Declyn was right. They would see each other again one day.

B054 - DREW WOODS - DECEASED

She'd realized Drew was gone.

Then Declyn went off. And she wanted to go after him, but was that worth leaving Theo alone and unguarded? Besides, Declyn had the gun. If anyone tried to do anything to them, he could defend them, him and Drew. Couldn't he? Didn't Camilla have faith in her dearest friends' ability to care for themselves? They'd done just that for days before she ran into them, after all.

Camilla tried to assure herself that it would be okay, that she had to resist the urge to be an overbearing mother hen. It would be okay. It would be okay. They'd be okay. Drew wasn't okay and never would be again but for now it was okay.

A gunshot.

It wasn't okay.

[Camilla Bell continued from Evolving]

The first thing she did was dash towards the sound- her legs just moved, there wasn't time to think. Maybe if she'd been thinking she would have woken up Theo first, or grabbed a big stick off the ground or something more reasonable.

Yet, neither of those could have prepared her for what she faced, could they?

There was no attacker, no silhouetted menace pointing a gun at someone she desperately wanted to protect. It was just Declyn, with his gun, on his knees, and Drew-

And Drew-

And Drew-

And Drew-

There was static in her head. Maybe Declyn could see it through her widened eyes, as she took tentative steps forward, towards the shore. It felt like with the slightest misstep her knees would give out.

She was so close to the two of them now, so close. Just a few more steps, that she couldn't take.

At some point she had to stop deluding herself into thinking Drew would be okay. That he would live through his infection. She knew, deep down, that he would die.

But not like this.

"D-Declyn..."

More like the boom of a cannon than a simple crack, the noise reverberated in his ears, making him flinch back. It was so fast that, for a second, it left him wondering if this just really happened. His eyes were still tight shut. He didn’t want to look. His hands were throbbing and he showed no sign of relaxing them.

What followed was silence. Until Declyn’s cry, a sound of a soul being ripped in two, broke it and grief took its toll. He sobbed aloud, his eyes liquid and draining out of him. That’s when he finally opened them, purposefully avoiding to look at the ground. It was also the moment Camilla arrived.

Good. Keep your focus on her. She looked shocked. Of course she would be. Just focus on her and don’t look.

“... help....,” he whimpered, his body still dealing with on-going tremors.

He felt like he couldn’t move.

Camilla's feet found the drive to step forward, something her mind wouldn't understand.

She collapsed to her knees next to Declyn, her eyes cast downwards at Drew, away from Declyn's face. If she looked Declyn in the eye, he'd see. He'd see. And when he did he would think it was his fault, but it wasn't, it was that bastard Gervais' fault, it was those psychotic terrorists' fault, it was Camilla's fault-

Her hand reached over to Drew's face, and rested on his cheek. Those were tears that stained it, weren't they? She couldn't have that, so she wiped them and brought her hand back. The smallest comfort.

If her eyes wandered a bit too far she'd see the wound in his chest.

Her eyes did wander. It reminded her of the fleeting look she got at Beryl, and-

Not again, not again.

She pulled Drew's body towards her, and cradled it in her arms. A small comfort, but to who?

Her eyes stung, so she closed them. Something caught and scratched in her throat, so she pressed her lips together.

It felt like the collar around her neck was tightening. It felt like the sun would never rise again. What difference would it make if it did? Drew was sunlight, and now he had been snuffed out. And she knew that Drew knew she loved him, but maybe he didn't understand how much he'd given her. He might never understand how much his death took away.

Because well... Declyn couldn't have been the one to make this choice. He couldn't have. Which meant that Drew... he was suffering, but...

Answering Declyn's call for help proved impossible. Her ears rung with her silence.

Drew’s leg brushed against Declyn’s when Camilla pulled his body closer to her, making him jolt slightly. He recognized the green shoes, remembered where they had bought them, remembered the taste of the worst slice of Margherita pizza they had shared that day. Seemingly trivial but it kept playing in his head.

He turned and dropped the gun beside him, using the back of his hand to muffle his sobs. He sought Camilla’s gaze one more time, nothing further. “... He w— wanted...” He started quietly but then immediately stopped himself. He didn't want to interrupt the silence.

...


He looked out at the open lake.

Drew had wanted to be freed from this nightmare. Declyn wondered if there was anything more he could have done, just a little something, anything. He shook his hands, his breathing unsteady and deep.

He is free.

"...I know."

Of course Drew did.

It wasn't unimaginable, but Camilla hoped it wouldn't come to that. Foolish hopes, probably. If it wasn't Declyn then-

She opened her eyes, and the world was a watery blur. She pressed Drew against her more, his head nestled under her chin. If only he were breathing, if only he wrapped his arms around her too, it would be just like old times.

Lifting her head up, the moon and stars loomed over her. She remembered panicked prayers, then a pointed refusal to say anything more. And look what happened right afterwards.

They'd say Drew was in a better place. Camilla would say he was a prisoner.

"Dear god why..." she muttered, her breath shaking, gaze pointed at the moon.

It was sobs that caught in her throat, she understood that now.

She couldn't stop the tears now and she hated it she hated it all and why did Drew of all people have to suffer and they said that the good died young for the same reason that someone picked beautiful flowers out of a garden but this wasn't picking a flower it was ripping it out of the ground and tearing its petals off and burning the remnants so nobody else could have it and all it proved was how selfish and greedy the picker was deciding they deserved beauty and goodness more than anyone else and she just wanted to wake up and realize this was a horrible nightmare she wanted Drew to wake up and be okay and assure them it would all be alright again and-

"...damn you."

She screamed at the sky.

"DAMN YOU!"

Gasping for air, holding Drew tight as if he would fall apart if she let go, and the tears wouldn't stop, the sobs punctuated or interrupted each breath as they saw fit.

(Theophilus "Theo" Walterson continued from Evolving)

Despite all his worries, Theo had little difficulty sleeping that night. After all the stress of the previous days, a few hours of uninterrupted, guarded sleep was an opportunity he was only too glad to take. Even when his sleep was finally cut short by a loud gunshot, it took Camilla's scream to fully remind him where he was. Almost jumping out of his sleeping position, he ran towards them, stopping only when he finally reached the other two.

Breathing hard, but beginning to settle down slightly, Theo stared blankly at the scene before him. What had transpired was more or less clear, but the idea of Declyn killing anyone was so absurd that he found it difficult to understand how this could happen. Staring blankly at the scene, he felt a wave of weariness wash over him. Was this how he would grieve for Drew? Not with tears of sorrow, screams of rage, but merely a jaded tiredness?

With great effort, Theo tore his eyes away from Drew (or more accurately, perhaps, his corpse) and tried to focus on what might have motivated this, but despite his efforts he still could not think of a reason why this needed to happen. Moving himself so he was right beside Declyn, he plaintively asked, "Could you tell us what happened? Please?". Once he had said it, he let the tiredness take over again, and he stared distantly into the trees.

Declyn sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

When Camilla started screaming, his body tensed up more than it already was while he dug his nails into the dirt below him. Deeper, his back and shoulders hunched forward. As free as Drew was now, it lessened the pain and grief only a little bit. He would never forget his last smile. Every What if, he knew it was pointless for the most part, but necessary. At least for himself.

Theo’s presence made him pull his hands back, and like an animal staring at the hunter about to strike their arrow, he looked up.

Once he fully realized who it was, he could breathe again. But Theo wasn’t even looking at him. Asking him questions.... but not looking at him. Tears still flowing, he grabbed the hem of Theo’s shirt with a panicked expression and got back up to his feet without pulling too much on it, then put his arms around him, his face against his shoulder.

“I-- I’m sorry! Listen, he…,” he muttered quickly, his hands searching for something to hold onto. He wasn't sure if Theo could even understand him properly. Right now, it was difficult to find the energy to explain what happened.

“He didn’t.... didn't want to be in pain anymore. He couldn't take it any longer."

Camilla heard Theo's voice, and she heard Declyn responding, but it felt like she lost the ability to understand their words. So she kept staring at the sky, gripped by the pain in her chest, and the withering of her voice. Staring, wondering if Drew was happy.

But if Drew could see this, he wouldn't be happy, would he?

She looked back down at Drew's face, wiped his cheek again. There probably weren't any more tears at this point, though. Not for him, and not for Camilla. She had none left.

Camilla thought about asking for Declyn's gun.

There were a lot of ways she could justify it. Oh, Declyn, it's probably not good if you hold onto that. Oh, he probably didn't want to hold onto it anyway. She was still going to be on guard duty, it'd be better if she had the gun, it'd be better if they tried to sleep while Camilla stayed awake all by herself where none of them would-

But she wouldn't ask. They'd figure it out. And it would be cruel, wouldn't it?

As much as they wanted to, they couldn't mourn forever.

She drew in a breath, steadiness coming back to her, just for now.

"We... we should get some flowers," she suggested, with a weak and hoarse voice.

While Theo was expecting Declyn to be suspicious of his questions, he did not expect to be grabbed so suddenly, and he yelped in alarm, tuning back towards Declyn in the process. He stared at him in surprise and only after a second's delay did he finally realize that Declyn was only trying to ask for help. Trying to loosen Declyn's grip a little

His voice strained with a combination of ebbing fear and a certain resentment at having been grabbed so roughly, he frowned slightly. "Thank you for telling us, but why did you need to do this on your own? Weren't we here as well?"

Looking at Declyn, though, it was clear that he was still suffering from his actions, and his tone softened. "I'm sure doing this was painful for you, but he was our friend too. Didn't we deserve to be asked what we could have done as well? Maybe he just needed help or reassurance. Surely you didn't have to do ..." He waved towards the scene of the crime and sighed in frustration.

Camilla's question broke the silence. Gently shaking off Declyn's grip, he nodded gratefully at Camilla. "Do you know where we could find any? I don't think we should go too far right now."