All We Have Now - 3. Part 3

The next morning I was still in his arms when I woke up. I didn't want him to let go yet, so I pretended to be asleep for another hour or so. I just felt so safe and snug being held by him. He smelled really nice too and I listened intently to his heart beating. When I finally looked up at him he grinned at me.

"Morning, sleepy head," he said.

"Good morning, how long have you been awake?"

"I don't know, a little over an hour maybe, so about as long as you."

I think I blushed.

"You knew I wasn't asleep? Why didn't you say something?"

"Why didn't you?"

"I was still too tired I guess," I lied.

"Are you hung over?"

"I'm feeling a little light-headed, but it's not too bad. What about you?"

"I'm alright."

"It's weird, I ate so much yesterday, but now I'm hungry again, more than usual actually."

"Let's eat then."

"Ok."

We got up, put some clothes on and went downstairs. Troy made coffee and then we sat down to eat a couple of muffins.

"Mmh, they're so good, if I may say so myself," I said cheerfully.

"Yeah they are," he replied, grinning, and ruffled my hair, but then he turned serious and quickly jerked his hand away. "You didn't consider that rape, did you? I mean, it wasn't sexual, so it's fine, right?" he asked nervously and I smiled at him.

"No, that was actually kind of sweet. It's only rape when you touch me, you know, down there, against my will, or if you make me touch you."

"Alright, got it."

"What do you want to do today?"

"I don't know, not much, maybe relax a little for a change?"

"Sounds good. How about we light a fire in the living room and finish the book?"

"Yeah, sure."

When we were done with breakfast Troy took care of the fire. Soon it was really warm and cozy in the living room and we made ourselves comfortable on the couch. He was sitting and I was lying with my head on his lap. I opened the book and we picked up where we had left off. After a while he started to gently stroke my hair. It gave me goose bumps, the good kind, and we spend the next couple of hours like that. The story became more and more fascinating and it was easy for me to immerse myself in it. Troy probably wasn't aware of this himself, but he'd always start stroking me for a few minutes whenever something romantic happened in the plot. I thought it was funny and pretty sweet, but I didn't want to embarrass him or for him to stop, so I pretended not to notice. I had such a good time though. Lying there with him, reading, getting tenderly touched, it was all very enjoyable and I was really happy.

In the early afternoon I became hungry again.

"How about we take a break and have lunch?" I asked.

"Sure. Why don't you make us something and I'll restart the fire? We can eat in here today."

"Good idea."

I went down to the basement and got two cans of soup. I was about to put them on the stove when I realized that there weren't any clean bowls left, so I unblocked the door, took a bucket and a knife and went outside to get water. I looked around, but luckily there weren't any monsters in sight. I used the pump as fast as I could and hurried back inside. I didn't block the entrance behind me though, because I figured I'd need more water soon anyway, to rinse everything off, so I just filled the sink and started to wash the dishes. Suddenly the door opened, which startled me so badly I thought my heart would stop beating. Two men entered cautiously and when the one in the front saw me he immediately pointed his gun at me. My eyes widened and I started to shake. I was so scared I even had trouble breathing.

"Oh my, what have we here?" he said. He had a beard and black, greasy, combed-back hair.

"Hello," I replied anxiously.

"Are you alone sweetheart?"

"Yes," I answered quickly.

"Dave, go search the house," he said to the other guy, who had a beard too and short, brown hair with a mullet in the back. He was also carrying a gun and he now headed toward the living room.

"What's your name sweetheart?" the guy who stayed with me asked.

"Cody?"

"Alright Cody. Why don't you turn around and bend over the counter for me, so we can get acquainted properly?"

"No!" I said in panic.

"You listen to me boy..." Suddenly there was a loud thud coming from the living room. "Dave?!...What's going on?!...Answer me?!" He quickly grabbed me, turned me around and took me in a choke hold from behind. Troy appeared in the door, holding up his shotgun. "Where's Dave, you son of a bitch?!" the guy yelled and pressed the barrel of his gun to my head.

"He's taking a nap. Now let him go and we'll talk," Troy said almost calmly.

"Lower your gun or I'll waste him right now!" Troy didn't respond and started to slowly walk into the kitchen. "I swear to god I'll count to three and then I'll kill him!" the guy yelled warningly, and cocked his gun. "One... Two..."

"Alright," Troy said and lowered his shotgun. The guy aimed and shot him right in the chest without hesitation. He fell down sideways and disappeared behind the table.

"TROY!" I screamed and started to sob violently. The guy let go of me. He hit me in the head really hard and I dropped to the floor. He slowly walked to the table and looked around the corner. Suddenly a shot went off and his head exploded. I quickly got up and ran over to Troy. I couldn't even talk I was crying so badly. He was really pale and there was a small, but expanding blood stain on his shirt where he had been shot.

"Are you hurt?" he asked when he saw me and I shook my head. "Help me up." I did. "Now take his gun, we have to check if there are more of them," he said. I picked up the gun and we went outside. There was a blue truck parked a couple of yards from the house, but there was no one else in sight, so we got back inside. Troy squatted down and checked the dead guy's pockets. Judging from his expression he was in a lot of pain and he was pressing his left arm against his stomach. After a few seconds he found a set of keys and got up. "Start packing, we're leaving in ten minutes," he said, but I didn't move, I was still in shock and sobbing violently. "Listen to me, we'll be fine, alright? We just have to get out of here in case someone comes looking for those two fucks."

"You can't die," I whimpered.

"I won't fucking die, it looks worse than it is, trust me."

It looked pretty bad. The blood stain was as big as a basketball by now.

"It's my fault his happened. They must've seen the smoke."

"It doesn't matter. What matters is that you pull yourself together. I need you focused right now."

"I'm so sorry."

"For fuck's sake, snap out of it already or I will fucking die, alright?! Do you understand me?!" he yelled and I looked at him wide-eyed. "Move it!" he added and I quickly ran upstairs.

It was really hard to focus, but I managed to gather everything useful and ten minutes later the truck was loaded. Troy had bandaged his wound, but it looked like it was still bleeding.

"Do you know how to drive?" he asked when we were ready to leave.

"Yeah."

"Alright, let's go." We got in the truck. "There's a small path behind the barn, take it," he said.

"Ok."

We started to drive and I found the path. It was really uneven and Troy moaned in pain every time we hit a pot hole. Tears were streaming from my eyes and I could barely see. After a while we came to a road and took a left turn, away from the farm.

There was the occasional abandoned car or monster, but thankfully nothing that really slowed us down. Troy's shirt continued to get soaked in blood, despite the bandage, and his eyes seemed to become heavier with every mile, which I knew was a bad sign. I floored the gas pedal the whole time, but the truck was old and just not very fast.

Maybe forty-five minutes later, which felt like an eternity, we finally came to a little town. Almost at the end of it I suddenly saw a house with an open garage, so I drove inside.

"What are you doing? We have to keep going," Troy said.

"No, we have to treat your wound or you'll bleed to death."

"It's not that bad."

"We're stopping here and that's final."

"Fine, now listen to me, if there are a lot of freaks in the house and they overpower me you don't try to save me, you run, alright?"

"No!"

"Cody, for fuck's sake, just do what I say!"

"No! You die, I die!" I yelled and then sobbed.

"Come on, let's go," he sighed and we got out of the truck.

I closed the garage door, and took our backpacks and two blankets with supplies and we entered the house. We were making our way to the stairs when suddenly a monster came out of one of the rooms we had just passed. Troy didn't hesitate and kicked its legs off the ground. The monster dropped to the floor and he stomped on it's head a couple of times till it burst. His face contorted with pain and he hunched down a little. I cried harder.

"I'm alright," he said reassuringly and straightened himself. He entered the room the monster came out of, so I followed him. It was a dining room.

"Can you carry a chair?" he asked and I nodded. We both took a chair and headed upstairs. We checked for monsters and then decided to settle in the bathroom.

"You can use the tub as a fireplace. Roll out my sleeping bag next to it," he said and I did.

He lay down and I blocked the door with one of the chairs and then tried to pull apart the other, but couldn't. I sobbed and desperately kicked it till finally a leg broke off. I kept at it and when I had enough wood I stacked it in the tub, opened a window and lit the wood. Next I kneeled down next to Troy and looked at him. He was pale and soaked in blood. Some of it had already curdled and smelled pretty bad.

"What do I do now?" I asked shakily.

"First you have to swear to me that you'll kill me if I die, so I won't turn into a freak."

"No!"

"Alright, then hand me my shotgun."

"Why?"

"So I can shoot myself in the head."

"No, please," I whimpered and cried harder again.

"Either you swear to do it or I'll do it right now."

I hesitated and he tried to get up.

"Ok, I swear," I said quickly.

"Good, now get your tweezers and the schnapps. You have to remove the bullet from my chest. And bring me the rod from the toilet paper holder, so I have something to bite down on."

I did what he had asked and he took off his shirt.

"Stick your finger in the wound, till you can feel the bullet, so you'll know where it is and then take it out with the tweezers," he said and took the rod in his mouth.

I quickly disinfected everything and then felt for the bullet. It was disgusting, but I was too afraid to care. Luckily it didn't seem to be very deep inside of him, so I used the tweezers. I couldn't get a hold of it right away, because my hand was shaking pretty badly, but after a few tries I finally managed to pull it out. Troy was sweating and breathing heavily. I covered his wound with a towel and applied pressure.

"Good job. Now you have to cauterize the wound, so it stops bleeding," he said weakly. I cried harder yet again and looked down despairingly. "Listen, I need you to be strong now, alright?" I nodded. "Find something made out of metal and put it in the fire till it's starting to glow and then shove it in the wound." I nodded, got up and took my fireiron out of my backpack. I disinfected it and then stuck it in the embers.

After a couple of minutes I checked if it was already glowing and it was, so I showed it to Troy.

"Do it," he said and bit down on the rod again.

I uncovered his wound. Tears were streaming down my face. I inhaled sharply and dug the fireiron into his flesh. It sizzled and the smell almost made me gag. Troy cramped up, moan loudly and passed out after a couple of seconds. I removed the no longer glowing metal and kneeled down to look at the wound up close. There was no more blood flowing out, which I took as a good sign. I cleaned it with alcohol, put toilet paper on it and then fixed it with duct tape. Next I wrapped him in the sleeping bag and covered him with two blankets, so he'd be warm enough. I sat down beside him and watched him breathe in and out. It took me a long time till I finally stopped crying.

When it got dark outside I gently laid my hand on Troy's chest, so I could feel it go up and down. I didn't move the whole night and in the morning, when he stayed unconscious, I started to panic. There was still some wood left, so I restarted the fire, to warm up the room. Around noon I cried for a while till I was too exhausted. In the afternoon I was about to lose all hope when he suddenly opened his eyes.

"Damn, you look awful," he said, grinning a little, and I burst into tears. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"I thought you wouldn't wake up again," I whimpered.

"How long was I out?"

"Over a day."

"But you stopped the bleeding, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Well, then there's no reason to cry, now is there?"

"I was so scared."

"I know, but you don't have to be anymore. I feel pretty awesome actually. You should burn me more often from now on."

I giggled a little.

"It was so horrible and smelled so bad."

"Yeah, but it felt great."

I giggled again, but then turned serious.

"I should cheer you up, not the other way around," I said sadly.

"Cheering you up cheers me up too, so there you go."

"Does it hurt really badly?"

"It's alright, but I wouldn't say no to a couple of painkillers."

I quickly got up and brought him the bottle with painkillers and some water. He took four pills and swallowed them.

"What do you want to eat?" I asked.

"I'm not hungry."

"Please," I pleaded and started to cry harder again.

"Alright, sure, whatever you want, just stop crying."

I nodded, wiped away my tears, got a can of tomato soup and opened it.

"Do you want me to feed you?" I asked.

"No, I'll manage."

"Ok." I said and handed him the can. He lifted his head a little and took a sip.

"Have you eaten yet?"

"No."

"And when was the last time you had something to drink?"

"I don't know, yesterday?"

"And why is that?"

"I just forgot, I guess."

"Go on then, eat and drink something, cause I wasn't kidding when I said you look awful."

"I'll have something to drink, but we don't know how long we'll be here and you need to eat more than me, so I'll save my share for you."

"Alright, if you don't eat, I don't eat."

"No, please."

"What if freaks show up and you're too weak to fight them off? Then we'd both be fucked."

"I'm too weak anyway," I said sadly.

"Bring me my shotgun."

"Why?"

"Well, if you won't protect me I might as well shoot myself right now, cause I'm not ending up as one of those fucking things."

"No, I'll protect you."

"Then you have to eat. So get another can or my shotgun, your choice."

"Ok, I'll eat," I said, defeated.

"That's right."

I got a can of bean soup and opened it, but before I could start eating it Troy took it from me and handed me the tomato soup.

"Troy, no!" I protested.

"Shut the fuck up and eat."

"Ok."

We finished our soup and then Troy closed his eyes. I leaned forward and gently stroked his hair. A tear accidentally dropped on his still naked chest and he looked up at me.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you."

"Oh, that's right, you think this was your fault."

"It was, those guys found the house and got inside because of me."

"You're wrong, it was just really bad luck, nothing more."

"No, it was me and my stupidity."

"Look, the fire was your idea, but I agreed and I was even the one who started it."

"It was still my fault."

"Whatever... Hey, tell me something, how guilty do you actually feel? I mean, what would you be willing to do to make it up to me?"

"Anything... Well, almost anything."

"How about a blowjob?"

"Oh...Yeah, ok," I said hesitantly.

"Seriously?"

"Sure. Do you want me to do it right now?"

"Jesus Christ, I was kidding! You don't owe me anything and if you respect me you'll accept that, alright?"

"Ok," I said sadly and looked at the floor.

"Now, why is it so fucking cold in here?"

"I'm sorry, we ran out of wood."

"Have you checked the other rooms?"

"No, I was too scared to."

"It's getting dark anyway, so how about you get into the sleeping bag with me to warm me up?"

"But I have to keep watch."

"The door is blocked and I don't think freaks can climb stairs, so we should be safe. But bring me my shotgun, just in case."

"You're not going to shoot yourself, are you?"

"No."

I brought him his shotgun and then slipped into the sleeping bag. I cuddled myself against him and he laid his arm around me. I fell asleep pretty fast.

When I opened my eyes the next morning Troy was already awake.

"About time. Get up, I have to take a shit," he said.

"Oh, ok."

I climbed out and helped him up. I was scared to leave the room by myself, so while he was using the toilet I sat on the edge of the tub with my back to him and covered my ears. After ten minutes or so he tapped on my shoulder.

"How about you go next? We'll only get to flush once or twice, cause there's no more water pressure, so we should make it count," he said. I nodded and we switched places.

He wasn't actually watching me, but it was still really embarrassing doing my business with someone else in the room. I knew it was kind of silly, but I had always been very shy. I had gotten in trouble regularly in high school, because I never showered after gym class. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I hit puberty pretty late. For a long time I was afraid other kids would make fun of me. For some reason that insecurity stuck with me.

When I was done I flushed and then we went searching for wood together. Right next door we found what looked like the room of a teenage girl, with posters of young actors and singers, stuffed animals and all kinds of other little things only a girl would collect. We took the mattress and all the drawers.

Back in the bathroom I broke everything into pieces while Troy started a new fire. After we had eaten we lay down on the mattress and just enjoyed the warmth. In the beginning I wanted to stay in a different room, but the tub was a great fireplace, because the metal would heat up like a radiator and now with a comfortable bed in it, it made perfect sense.

"Troy?" I asked after a while.

"Yes?"

"Why do you think those guys were like that?"

"Most people are inherently bad and now that there aren't any laws anymore nothing is holding them back."

"That can't be true. I bet there are still a lot of nice people out there."

"Nice gets you killed, you have to be tough to survive in this world."

"I survived."

"Well, you're the exception to the rule I guess."

"What if we'll find a refuge and there are only bad people?"

"If we'll ever find one I'll go in first and check it out, so you can run if something's not right."

"Or, we could just stay away and avoid other people altogether."

"That would mean it would only be us, probably for the rest of our lives."

"So?"

"A couple of days ago you said you'd ditch me if you had a choice."

"No, I said I'd prefer to live by myself, not that I wouldn't want to see you anymore."

"Would you still prefer to live by yourself, if you could?"

"No, not really."

"What changed you mind? Guilt?"

"No, you've changed, you started to be really nice to me and I enjoyed being with you, so if you don't go back to being mean I could totally picture myself staying with you for a long time."

"I see."

"Are you ok with it only being us for the foreseeable future?" I asked.

"Well, you're totally useless and you cry all the time, so I think I'd be better off without you."

I looked down disappointedly.

"Oh."

"Hey, I'm kidding. Well, at least about the 'better off without you' part."

"Really?"

"Yeah, so, together till the end?"

"Till the end."

"Damn, it feels like we just got married or something, except that I don't get to fuck you tonight."

"I'm sorry," I said sadly.

"Jesus, you have no sense of humor at all, do you?"

"But you do want to have sex with me, don't you?"

"No, not unless you're into it too."

"Exactly and I'm sorry I'm not."

"Whatever, I'll survive."

We stayed quiet for a while.

"What are we going to do? I mean, what's our plan, long term?" I asked.

"I don't know, we have a car now, so it'll be easier to get around. There are a couple more farms on the map from the delivery truck, we could check them out and then go from there. What do you think?"

"I think we should gather as many supplies as possible and then head to California."

"What's in California?"

"It's hot there and you said the monsters just have to rot long enough till they fall apart and die. So, everything rots faster when it's warm, which means they should die sooner in California."

"You're probably right. Why haven't I thought of that? It's a great idea, we should totally do that."

"So if we'll find another untouched farm you don't want to stay there again?"

"I don't know, we'll see."

"Ok and how long are we going to stay here?"

"A few more days maybe. I still feel a little weak."

"I wonder why the bullet didn't go through you, I mean, he pretty much shot you point blank."

"It was a very low powered gun and thank God for that or I'd probably be dead."

"Yeah, the bullet wasn't in very deep, which I thought was surprising."

"My shotgun definitely did more damage," he said and laughed, but immediately cramped up and moaned in pain. "Shit, maybe it's a good thing you don't have a sense of humor."

"I can be funny."

"Yeah? Tell a joke."

"Ok. The son says to his father: 'Dad, this boy in school keeps calling me gay.' The father asks: 'Then why don't you just beat him up?' and the boy answers: 'I can't, he's too cute.'" Troy laughed really hard and then cramped up again and moaned loudly, but couldn't stop laughing and his face kept contorting with pain. "I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have told you a joke," I said guiltily.

"It's alright, I asked for it, literally," he answered, a little out of breath.

"Still."

"I got one for you. What do you do if your girlfriend, or in your case boyfriend, starts smoking?"

"What?"

"You slow down and use some lubricant."

I laughed.

"That's kind of horrible."

"Let's get serious again, cause I don't wanna rip open my wound."

"Ok... Do you feel bad at all about shooting that guy?"

"No, should I?"

"I don't know, he was still a human being."

"He was worse than the freaks as far as I'm concerned."

"I guess."

"By the way, did you pack the book we were reading?"

"Yeah, but I left it in the truck, why?"

"How about we get it and you read it to me for a while?"

"So you do like it."

"No, I don't, I'm just bored."

"Oh, excuse me for boring you," I said sarcastically

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean then?"

"Why are you putting me on the spot?"

"I just think we should start being honest with each other. I mean, we used the toilet in front of each other earlier, so nothing should be embarrassing anymore."

"I'm not a homo."

"Straight guys can like romance novels too."

"Only pussies and I ain't no pussy."

"No, a lot of tough guys like them, but are too macho to admit it, which is a sign of insecurity if you ask me."

"Are you calling me insecure?" he asked, frowning.

"Yes, I am."

"You better watch it," he said warningly.

"Why do you even care so much what I think?"

"I don't."

"Yes, you do and I think it's because you have feelings for me. And that's also why you're being so nice to me, so I'll fall for you, but you're acting tough so I won't suspect anything."

"Are you shitting me with this?!" he asked angrily. "I'm only nice to you so you'll change your mind about letting me fuck you. And I don't have 'feelings' for you. You're like a talking dog to me! I'd have no problem putting you down if you'd stop doing what I want!"

"No, you could've forced me or guilted me into having sex with you, but you didn't, because you probably love me. And you said if I'd leave you'd follow me around, so if anything, you're like a dog."

He suddenly got up and glared at me.

"Get up!" he demanded.

"Why?"

"Do it!" he yelled, so I did. "Now pull down your pants and underwear and bend over the sink!"

"No, please, I was out of line, I'm so sorry, it will never happen again, I swear," I said anxiously.

"Too late, I'm gonna teach you a lesson now, so next time you'll know your place."

I started to cry.

"No, please don't, please," I whimpered.

He grabbed me by the arm, pushed me against the sink, pulled down my pants and underwear and forced me to bend over. I was sobbing and shaking with fear. I heard him unbuckle his belt behind me and I waited for it to happen, but it didn't.

"FUCK!" he finally screamed and kicked what sounded like the water tank of the toilet, which broke with a loud crack, making water splash on the floor. I quickly pulled up my pants, went to the corner to my right, slid down with my back against the wall and hugged my legs to my chest. Troy was sitting on the closed toilet and was staring at the floor.

A few minutes passed. Suddenly he picked up his shotgun, which was lying next to the mattress, and put the barrel in his mouth. My eyes widened and I jumped up, ran over to him, grabbed it and tried to rip it out of his hands. A shot went off, but thankfully missed both of us. It hit the tube light on the ceiling though and pieces of broken glass came raining down. I quickly covered my face and hunched down a little. Troy let go of his shotgun and when I looked at him he seemed frozen and devoid of any emotions. He was just sitting there with sagging shoulders.

"What's wrong with you?!" I yelled, but he didn't react.

My ears were ringing so badly I felt a little disoriented, so I sat down on the mattress.

After maybe twenty minutes he still hadn't moved, but my hearing had mostly returned to normal.

"Say something," I said and he glanced at me for a second and then looked down again.

"Why didn't you let me do it? I deserved it," he finally said quietly.

"No, you didn't, you lost your temper and you scared me really badly, but that doesn't mean you deserve to die."

"How can you defend what I did? There's no excuse."

"Because I know you're not a bad person."

"I have to make this up to you somehow."

"You could start by being honest with me."

"What do you mean?"

"No more pretending and acting tough. And I want to know where I stand with you."

"So you can use it against me?"

"Of course not. Don't you trust me?"

"I don't know. I don't trust anyone."

"That has to change. We have to learn to trust each other, because we'll spend a lot of time together and we're surrounded by danger and uncertainty, so there has to be at least one thing we can count on."

"I guess."

"I swear I'll never use anything you tell me against you and I'll always treat you with respect, as long as you do the same, which includes being honest."

"Alright."

"Now, how do you feel about me?"

"What does it even matter?"

"I have to know what's going on in your head, so I'll know what to expect from you and how I should act around you. I'm already scared enough without having to worry about you all the time."

"You don't have to be scared of me. I'll never hurt you again."

"Until I say the wrong thing again you mean?"

"No, Jesus, I'd kill myself before I'd let anything like that happen again."

"And you think that wouldn't hurt me?"

He looked down and sighed.

"Just trust me, I won't let you down again, I swear," he said.

"Like you trust me?"

"For fuck's sake Cody, I can't just trust you because you want me to. I'm not like you."

"Because you don't want to be."

"You're starting to piss me off," he said warningly.

"What are you going to do? Teach me another lesson?"

"No, Jesus, just cut it out already!"

"I won't, it's now or never. You have to prove to me I can trust you, I deserve that. And if you really can't, then I don't want to be around you anymore."

"We've been over this, you're not gonna leave."

"I will this time, if you don't give me any other choice."

"Fine, goodbye."

I got up and started to divide the food. It was difficult for me to see, because I was crying so hard. I wrapped everything in a blanket and tied it to my backpack. When I was ready I walked to the door and looked at Troy one last time. He was sitting there hunched, hugging his stomach and staring at the floor.

"Goodbye," I said quietly and left. I was half-way down the stairs when I heard him come after me.

"Wait. Stay, please," he said.

"I can't," I replied and continued to walk down the stairs.

"I love you, alright?" I stopped and turned around.

"Are you IN love with me?"

"I'm not a... gay."

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know. I really don't."

"Would you like to kiss me?"

"What? No... I mean, I guess I would, if you wanted me to."

"Why do you hate it when I cry?"

"Cause it rips me up inside."

"Why did you try to hurt me earlier?"

"You were really getting under my skin and pushed me into a corner. And then you said I'm like a dog and I just lost it."

"You said I'm like a dog to you first."

"I was only trying to protect myself."

"What about now?"

"I don't give a shit anymore. I'd rather be your bitch than to let you go."

"I see."

"You got what you wanted. Are you staying now?"

"Fine, but no more 'Mr. tough guy', ok?"

"Sure."

I went back to the bathroom with him.

"This place is a mess," I said.

"I'll clean everything up."

"I'll help."

"Alright, but not the glass, I don't want you to cut yourself."

"Fine."

For the next twenty minutes or so we cleaned as best as we could, restarted the fire and had something to eat.

"We should put the hamper in the other room and use it as a toilet," I said.

"It's permeable."

"But you can sit on it and we could look for some plastic bags, put one inside when we use it and then throw it out the window when we're done."

"I guess...We should also piss out the window."

"Yeah."

"It's getting dark... I have an idea, I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

"You'll see."

He took the shotgun and left. I suddenly felt some anxiety building up in me, but I wasn't sure what I was scared of: being by myself or that something might happen to him. Thankfully he was back maybe five minutes later with the book, a roll of trash bags and two flowerpots. He closed the window and then extinguished the fire with the soil from the pots.

"Now it'll stay warm a little longer," he said.

"That's nice, but it'll still get chilly tonight. I wish we had a heater."

"We can just warm each other."

"I'm not sure I'm ready to be that close to you again."

"Oh, yeah, I understand."

"I'm not doing that to punish you. You know that, don't you?"

"Even if you would punish me, I'd deserve it."

"I can't argue with that."

"How do you feel about me? In general I mean, am I just a dog to you?"

"Of course not. I care about you, a lot, but I don't have feelings for you, if that's what you're asking."

"Yeah, no, whatever... Do you think you could ever... You know what? Never mind."

"If I could ever fall for you? It depends on how you'll treat me, but yes, it's possible."

"How long do you think that might take?"

"How long did it take for you?"

"I don't wanna say."

"Come on, please?"

"Fifteen minutes."

"What? But I must've been unconscious for at least that long."

"Yeah, but then you woke up... I knew I was in trouble the second you opened your eyes."

"Aww, that's so romantic." He frowned at me. "In a very manly kind of way I mean," I quickly added.

"Don't fucking patronize me."

"Sorry."

"We should get some sleep, I'm pretty beat."

"Me too."

We lay down, he in his sleeping bag and I covering myself with the two blankets. I missed being close to him and it took me a long time to fall asleep.

When I opened my eyes the next morning I looked over to Troy, but he was gone and the door was open. I panicked a little, quickly got up and went looking for him. First I checked the next room and when I entered I saw him sitting awkwardly on the hamper with a roll of toilet paper in his hand. He noticed me and frowned.

"Do you mind?" he asked.

"Sorry," I said sheepishly and returned to the bathroom.

I started a new fire and maybe five minutes later Troy appeared and blocked the door behind him with the chair.

"Morning," he said, grinning.

"Good morning."

"I'm hungry, how about we share a can of pears?"

"Sure. You must be recovering well if you're getting your appetite back so soon."

"I guess, I'm definitely feeling much better already."

When the fire was burning we sat down on the mattress and he opened a can of pears.

"You could use a shave," he said and touched my jawline. His fingers lingered and he stroked the stubble on my chin for a couple of seconds. Suddenly he realized what he was doing and quickly jerked his hand away.

"Shit, I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry," he said, frowning, and I grinned a little.

"It's ok, don't worry about it."

"We could use one of the bottles of water to get cleaned up, you know?"

"Do you really think we should waste our water like that?"

"We'd feel better afterwards, so it might be worth it."

"I wouldn't mind washing my hair and changing at least my shirt, underwear and socks."

"There you go."

We finished eating and then Troy went downstairs to get fresh clothes while I used the 'toilet'. We filled the sink with water and I let him wash himself first, then it was my turn. When I was done I called him back in.

"You were right, I feel much better now," I said.

"I know. And you look like a million bucks."

"Thanks, you too," I replied, smiling.

"Thanks."

"Hey, did you wash your feet too?" I asked.

"Of course not, do you really think I'd let you wash your hair in the same water I washed my feet in?"

"I guess not. Come on, I'll do it for you if you want."

"Sure."

I laid a towel on the floor and Troy took off his socks and put one foot in the sink. I lathered it, massaged the soap in and then rinsed it in the water. I did the same to the other foot and then kneeled down to dry them.

"Thanks," he said.

"Your toenails are awfully long. I have nail scissors, let's cut them."

"Alright, if you want."

I got my nail scissors from my backpack. We sat down and he leaned against the tub. I laid his foot on my lap and started to carefully cut his toenails.

"This is nice, you grooming me I mean. Can I do you next?"

"Ok."

When I was done with his, I let him do mine.

"Oww, you're cutting too deep!" I cried out.

"No I'm not."

"Oww!" I cried out again, pulled back my foot and looked at my big toe. When I squeezed it, it started to bleed a little. Troy turned pale.

"I didn't mean to do that," he said nervously.

"I know, it's ok."

"No, it's not, I hurt you, again. I can't believe this!"

"It's no big deal. It's harder to cut someone else's nails, you just have to get used to it. Come on, give it another shot," I said and put my foot back on his lap.

"I'll never touch you again, ever."

"Please? I trust you."

"Maybe you shouldn't."

"But I do. Come on, I know you won't hurt me again."

"Fine," he said hesitantly and took a hold of my foot. He was extremely careful this time. After every cut he looked up at me and I smiled at him reassuringly. When he was done he sighed heavily.

"Thanks, great job," I said cheerfully.

"Does your toe hurt badly?"

"No, not at all," I lied. It was actually still throbbing a little.

"Good."

"Now do my fingers."

"No way, that was like defusing a bomb or something. I can't handle any more of that."

"Ok, then let me do yours."

"Alright."

"Cross your legs please."

He did, I crossed mine too and scooted closer to him till our legs were touching. I laid a towel between us, took his hand and started to cut his nails.

While I was busy he suddenly leaned forward for a second. At first I didn't think much of it, because I figured he had just adjusted his position, but then he did it again and lingered for a moment. That's when it dawned on me that he had probably just smelled my hair. I lifted my head and frowned at him. He looked at me wide-eyed, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. My face relaxed and I smiled at him. He seemed relieved and grinned back sheepishly, it was kind of adorable. I finished his hands, did mine and then cleaned up.

"Now we're as good as new," I said cheerfully.

"Well, except I'm still injured and you're crippled."

"But we're alive, clean, neat, warm, and full. That's a lot to be happy about."

"I guess... Do you wanna read to me for a while?"

"Sure."

He lay down straight and I sideways on the mattress. I used his waist as a pillow and started to read. From time to time he would stroke my hair and we completely forgot to eat lunch. Late in the afternoon we finished the book. I was really moved by the ending, even though I had already known what would happen.

"That was bullshit," Troy said.

"I thought it was sweet."

"No, the word is 'bullshit'. What kind of ending is that? Total bummer."

"Next time we'll read something with a happy ending, ok?"

"How would we know?"

"I'll read the last couple of pages first, to myself of course."

"No, that would spoil the whole story for you, so I'll do it."

"I saw the 'Twilight' books in the other room. They'd keep us busy for a while and the ending is awesome."

"Hell no."

"Why not?"

"I saw the trailer for one of the movies once and you have to either be a teenage girl or really fucking gay to like that shit."

"So I'm really f-ing gay and like a teenage girl apparently?"

"No, I'm just saying, it's not for me. And it wasn't meant as an insult, hell, for all we know you could be the gayest person on earth."

"I am not the gayest person on earth," I said indignantly.

"How do you know? You could be the last of your kind."

"That's improbable."

"But not impossible."

"Anyway! Let's read 'Twilight'."

"No thanks."

"Are you afraid you might like it?"

"I won't!"

"Fine, there's also 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy'."

"What's it about?"

"I don't know. It's a comedy as far as I know."

"Sounds good, let's give it a try."

"We should eat something first and then we can read till it gets dark."

"Sure."

While I took care of the fire Troy got more flower pots and a drawer. We heated up two cans of corned beef and had dinner. Afterwards we read 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' for a while. We had to laugh out loud a couple of times, it was great and it seemed like the book was meant to be read with company. When it got dark Troy extinguished the fire with soil again and we lay down to sleep. I wanted to be held by him, but only scooted close enough so our arms were touching.