Survival Of The Fittest

(As the board saw fit to eat this post, ignore this.)

Alicia heard his voice, and her heart skipped a beat. Ray. Ray. He's back. He's home. Her Mom had said he'd be home soon, but she didn't think he'd be back this soon, and she didn't think she'd be alone when she first saw him. She wasn't prepared.

For a minute, she can't move or think or breathe at all. Instead, her mind goes back to the last few days, to the news that her brother's class hadn't ever made it to their Senior Trip, that they were on Survival of the Fittest, that Ray's chances of getting home were slim. She remembers as clearly as yesterday (it practically was yesterday, it feels like years but it's only been days, how is that possible?) sitting in her room, bawling her eyes out.

She had had many selfish thoughts in those moments. Mostly, she just wanted her brother back. She didn't care how many people he had to kill, how many other people's sisters would sob like she sobbed. She didn't care. She wanted Ray back, and she would have given anything to bring him back. But she also knew that Ray wouldn't have liked those thoughts, that Ray would have wanted her to be less selfish, that he would have wanted her to be stronger.

So instead, she spent everyday watching the TV like it had all of the answers to the universe in it. Ray did well. He didn't kill anyone, but he did well. She watched him do well. She watched him soar to great heights, and she watched him drop to terrible lows. She watched him bury his friend, Annaliese. She sat and watched and prayed for him, prayed that he would come home so that she wouldn't be alone.

Ray was pretty much Alicia's entire world. It wasn't easy being "that chick with the serious health condition." Most people didn't look past it, ever. Ray did, Ray always did. Even if he was her brother and that was his job, to look past things like that, she still thought it made him the most completely awesome person to ever walk the face of the Earth. She still thanked him for it every day.

The thing was that Alicia wasn't sure what she would do if she woke up one day and Ray wasn't there anymore, so she never thought about it. Ray would always be there. He was her constant. He would live through Survival of the Fittest, because he had too. Because there wasn't any possible way that he couldn't live, there wasn't any way that he wouldn't come back. The world wasn't cruel enough to take Ray away from her.

As it turned out, Alicia was right.

He had walked out of Survival of the Fittest with a bang (literally).

He had walked into their house with only a word.

She fumbled with her wheelchair for a minute, trying to maneuver it. Her hands were shaking so hard that it made everything difficult, more difficult than it already was, but she managed, because Ray was home, and not even goddamned Cerebral Palsy was going to stop her from seeing her brother. She managed to turn herself around, to wheel herself towards the door.

He stood there, alive and well and exactly like he'd always been. A little more worn, maybe. A little more broken. Still Ray. Always Ray.

Alicia couldn't stop the tears that sprang to her eyes.

"Hi Ray."

He was home. He was back. He was alive.

Alicia had never been happier.

Ray heard the whir of her electric wheelchair before she ever made it into view. That sound, more so than the house, its particular smell, or the feel of being there, was far more reminiscent of safety. His breath caught in his throat for half a second as he took her in, a symbol of what kept him going, even after he had screwed up time and again.

"Hi, Ally."

He let the bag in his hand drop. He closed the gap between them, slowly. As he walked, his eyes welled.

"I tried to save all of them. I did. I really did." He felt nauseous, steadied himself with one hand on the edge of Alicia's chair and the other on her

she's here i'm alive i made it home and she's here

He stared at the floor, and the tears broke. He nearly choked on the sobs.

"I left two brothers..and another sister. They're dead. They're dead and I couldn't save them."

He buried his head into Alicia's shoulder.

Alicia let Ray bury his head in her shoulder. Gently, she threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him tightly. He'd always been there for her. Always. Now it was her turn to do the same.

"Ray Dawson, you cut that shit out right now, understand?" Her voice wavered, tears spilling onto her cheeks. "You didn't leave them. You never left them. You did what you could, you did all that you could. You did brilliantly, okay?"

It was true. Ray did everything right. Fate might have screwed him, but sometimes fate did that. There were things about the world that were unfair and wrong and hurt, and Alicia of all people understood them the most.

"People die. It's what happens. And you can't waste your whole life sitting on the what-if's because you can't change it. They wouldn't want you to blame yourself. You did nothing wrong." Alicia pulled Ray away from her shoulder, ran her shaky fingers through his hair and down his face.

"They aren't gone. They're never gone. People will remember them. Their parents, and their friends, and you, Ray. You're here, you're alive, and you're keeping them alive. You just. God, I mean." Her voice cracked, and she choked down a sob. "You can't fight fate, you know? So don't sit there and cry about the people you could have saved, because that's a load of crap. You go, and you find your friends' brothers and sisters, and you go be their family too. You go help them."

She hugged Ray tight again.

"You're home. Oh my God, Ray, you're home."

With that, she slumped into his embrace and wept.

Some of the words were hard to hear, whether because of Alicia's general difficulty in speaking and the tears, but it was easy for Ray. He'd been listening to her speak her whole life. Hearing it now was an affirmation.

She was right. He did what he could. He couldn't change anything. But it still hurt. It fucking hurt.

He returned the hug. It all felt like a return. Like nothing had happened, like he had simply come back in the middle of things to pick up where he left off.

He looked up at the swirls and dips in the stucco ceiling, the ceiling that he called Mike on being ugly as shit when they had first moved in. It was almost inviting, now. He rested his face in Alicia's hair.

She was right.

"I'm home."