Chapter 1: Where is Colin?
Chapter Text
The garage was dark in the still night. Inside the only sound was the low ticking of a clock on the wall. No, not quite. On a fold out bed in the middle of the garage floor, between two half stripped cars, someone was sleeping rather uneasily. That someone was the garages only employee, Eduardo Eli Verrill. He’d worked well into the night, his boss and the garages owner, Colin Quinn, was away for five days but he didn’t dare to slack off. He had a long list of things he was supposed to finish and he was not gonna get into trouble if he could help it.
“It’s a good thing you’re a sad loser who lives at his job,” he muttered to himself just before he fell asleep. “Don’t have to commute.” He snorted a little at the ridiculousness at it all and then he was out like a light.
Not a long while later something trickled into Verrils consciousness and he stirred slightly as a strange sound made it into his brain. It was too late though and he was startled from his sleep by hands grabbing him and pulling him up. He couldn’t see because it was dark and there was a flash light shining in his face but he could tell there was more than two.
“This is gonna be real quick,” one of them said. “We only have one question: Where is Colin?”
“How the fuck should I know?” Verrill spat, already set in resistance mode, and reaped a barrage of punches. He didn’t know what kind of fuckwits Colin had pissed off this time but he knew that anything these thugs could do to him paled in comparison to what Colin would do if he found out that he snitched.
“We are not fucking joking,” the same one said again, clearly the spokesman of the group. “If you don’t tell us we’re gonna go pay that wife of his a visit, see if she talks easier.”
Verrill chuckled. “She’s gonna cut you shitweeds into pieces with one hand and a blindfold.” He was pretty certain that either they had no idea where she lived or they didn’t fucking dare so she was safe. He wouldn’t put it past her though to do just that. Had to be some kind of battle axe to put up with Colins shit.
“Fucking smartass,” the speaker grumbled.
Verrill groaned and buckled as he got rammed in the diaphragm with some sort of an electric device. He fought to breathe through it. The shock was followed by another barrage of punches and a second stun electric stab, this time in the chest. For a moment he thought he’d pass out but they held him up.
“I’m gonna ask you again, where the fuck is Colin?!”
“Do I look like a fucking babysitter, pendejo?” Verrill sneered through the pain.
Again they punched him but this time they let him fall down onto the concrete floor of the garage. One of his hands bent the wrong way as he tried to break his fall and it hurt more than the punching.
“You think you’re a fucking tough guy?” the ringleader roared.
“Don’t need to be,” Verril replied. “The dipshits who beat me up in third grade hit harder than you,” he mused and spat blood towards a shadow on the periphery on his vision. The last thing he remembered was the crash of the stun gun into his face and someone screaming, “Jack! For fucks sake don’t kill him!”
Across the way Colins friend Steven got out of bed and walked to his bedroom window. He’d woken up with a strange feeling. Over at Colins garage there was a strange light, like a flashlight being shone randomly and haphazardly around. It didn’t seem right. He couldn’t possibly imagine what it could be but he knew that it was wrong. With Colin away to fetch custom made parts in Tampa Verrill was alone over there.
He threw on clothes, grabbed his biggest gun and ran to the car. The tyres rained gravel over his front porch as he sped away but he didn’t care. It was time to repaint it anyway.
When he screeched into the driveway of Colins Auto Spa the flashlight inside stopped for a second before three shadowy figures came barrelling out and disappeared into the darkness towards the road. As he scrambled out of the car he hesitated for a split second, give chase or check on Verrill, and in another half split he bolted for the garage.
Between feeling the cold sheen on Verrils ashen skin and sitting down in the hospital waiting room Steven didn’t really know what had happened. His mind was blank for a few moments as he sank into the seat, the adrenaline slowly wearing off. His hands started shaking and he started aching everywhere. A single thought entered his mind: How did you feel when you saw him? The reliving of the pang that had shot through him made him glance around quickly like he was afraid people would know what he was thinking. When he had reassured himself that nobody was even looking at him he relaxed again. Nobody would ever know.
Chapter 2: Fireworks
Chapter Text
“What the hell!”
The following morning Steven had gone over to Colins garage intending to check that the place was in one piece but was faced with Verrill standing over a car engine. His wrist was bandaged and half his face was purple but he was still working. He was clearly in pain.
Verrill turned. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“I was just gonna check that the garage was in one piece. You know, lock up and shit until Colin comes back. What the fuck are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in the hospital.”
“Not a fucking chance. If Colin comes back and finds out that I haven’t done anything I won’t be in the hospital, I’ll end up in a fucking shallow grave.” Verril tried to grab something in the engine and twist it but it hurt his hand and he winced.
“You are not fit to be working, Verrill!”
Verril straightened up and stared at Steven. “Why the fuck do you care?”
Steven opened his mouth but closed it again. Why the fuck did he care? When the feeling he’d experienced the previous night when he found Verrill unconscious on the floor came crashing back he felt dizzy. “Just because.” He tried to shrug nonchalantly. “You are seriously injured, you shouldn’t be working. It’s just a simple fact.”
“Well, it is also a simple fact that Colin has absolutely zero patience for me complaining.”
“It’s not complaining if you’re seriously injured, man!”
“You gonna tell that to Colin?”
“Well…” Stevens voice faded out. He knew Colin, had done for almost twenty years now. He knew Verrill was right.
Verrill smirked. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He turned back to the car engine but his wonky vision from half his face being engulfed in a burnt bruise caused him to catch his fingers on a sharp edge. He pulled his hand back and cursed loudly. A couple of drops of blood trickled down into the engine.
Again Steven opened his mouth to object and again he closed it before actually speaking. He took a deep breath. He’d need to be tactful about this. “Okay, will you do me a favour then?”
“What?” Verrill grumbled as he wiped his bloodied fingers on his coveralls.
“If I come pick you up tonight so that you can sleep at my place where it’s warm and clean instead of here in the cold and dirty fucking garage will you come quietly? I’ll let you go back to the garage when you want and you can do whatever the fuck you want when Colin comes back.”
Verrill sighed. Everything hurt and the thought of sleeping in a warm, comfortable bed nearly overwhelmed him. “Fine,” he sighed.
Steven waited for a little bit. He wasn’t sure what he thought Verrill would say more. He’d never been exactly talkative and ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ was definitely not in his vocabulary. “Okay, then,” he finally said as he looked at the clock on the wall. “I’ll be here around six.” He waited for a little while more but Verrill neither replied nor gave any indication that he’d even heard what he’d said. “Right, then,” he said and exhaled sharply. “I’ll see you then.”
The moment the door closed behind Steven Verrill gave into the searing pain that had burrowed into his head through the bruise in his face and then crawled slowly down into his back and his arms, threatening to consume his entire body. He sank groaning down onto his knees in front of the car. Steven was probably right, he should be in the hospital. However, if there was one thing that Colin Quinn disliked more than slacking off it was spending money that he didn’t have to spend and he would most definitely make him work for no wages for as long as it would take him to pay the fucking hospital bill. He would have to continue.
When Steven returned at six as he had promised Verrill was still in the same place, slowly picking the pieces out of the car carcass. “Hey,” he said, not sure whether Verrill was actually aware that he was there.
“Hey,” Verrill replied without turning. Something went twang and clattered away. He sighed heavily.
“It’s six o’clock.”
“And?” Verrill reached his arm down into the engine cavity to get at the thing that had scuttled away from him.
“You’re coming home with me to rest, remember?”
Verrill looked at Steven. “Am I?”
Steven crossed his arms. “Yes, you promised.”
Verrill turned back to the engine, decided he was too tired to deal with neither of finding the fucking absconded mechanical part or arguing with Steven. “Fine,” he said and stretched. His spine cracked so monstrously that Stevens face went white. “You lead the way.”
“No way,” Steven said with a slight grin. “You first. I’m not going to risk you pulling some shit like locking the door behind my back and staying in here.”
Verrill smiled. “Damn, that was my plan.”
Steven laughed. “Just get your sorry ass to the car, you dumb fuck.”
“I can see why you’re friends with Colin,” Verrill chuckled as he passed Steven. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you weren’t really Steven but Colin in a disguise keeping an eye on me.”
Steven snorted. “And how do you know that I’m not?”
Without warning Verrill turned so hard on the gravelly driveway that his boots sent small pebbles flying and raised his arm, his fist clenched as if he meant to punch Steven as hard as he possibly could.
Steven yelped and brought his arms up before his face as he jumped backwards. “What the fuck, Verrill!” His heart was beating double time.
Verrill half grinned. “Yeah, definitely not Colin.” He turned away from Steven again, walked to his car and got in to the back seat.
Steven considered making Verrill sit in the front but decided against it. He should probably not antagonise him any more than necessary. What was important now was that he was in the car so that he could get him home.
They drove the short way in silence. When Steven had parked the car in his own driveway he got out and went to the back where Verrill sat and opened the door. “Come on, let’s go inside. I made dinner.”
Verrill grumbled but got out. As much as he liked real food Stevens attention seemed like it was something he was forced to do rather than something that he wanted to. Or maybe he was imagining it. He hardly finished the thought when the compounded pain and stress and strain of trying to keep up his work speed in spite of his injuries hit him like a sledge hammer and he collapsed onto Stevens driveway.
Steven cursed loudly and sprinted towards Verrill but he was too late and when Verrill hit the gravel he let out a small welp. He crouched down next to him. “Hey!”
There was no reply.
Steven tried shaking Verrill but got no response. “God damn it, Verrill!”
One eye half opened and a small grin followed.
“Do you hear me?”
Verrill moved his head slowly from side to side.
“Fuck you, you asshole,” Steven snapped. “You have to get up.” He grabbed the front of Verrills coveralls and heaved.
Verrill managed to clamber to his feet but Steven had to support him the whole way into the house and when they got to bedroom he collapsed again. Steven had to grab him and managed to maneuvre him into the bed.
Looking at Verrill lying there the thought hit Steven again. “Why are you doing this?” He wasn’t sure. That strange feeling that had consumed him when he found Verrill lying on the garage floor was still simmering within him. He reached out and touched Verrills face. It was warm. He didn’t know what he had expected it to be other than that but it still made him shudder. Like his fingers had tasted something delicious and now the craving for more was slowly travelling up his arm. “Damn it,” he muttered and shook his hand as if he’d burnt it. “What the hell am I going to do?”
Around two PM the following day Steven caught Verrill trying to sneak out. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Back to the garage.”
“Oh, no, you’re not,” Steven said and stepped into Verrills way.
“Fuck you! I promised I’d sleep and then you’d let me go back to the garage.”
“But you didn’t sleep, Verrill, you fucking passed out. It doesn’t count. You need to sleep now.”
“That makes no fucking difference!”
“It does to me, you’re not leaving.”
“Go fuck yourself!” Verrill spat and tried to push past.
Steven tried to hold Verrill but he had to admit that the fucker was stronger than he’d expected and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop him. He took a deep breath, did a very short prayer, and let it loose.
All of Verrills defences fell as he realised he was being aggressively kissed, forcefully groped and pinned up against the hallway wall. For a split second he had an urge to fight it but something deep inside him that hadn’t stirred in years took over and he closed his eyes and leaned into it.
Steven was still screaming at himself in his head when he felt Verrill reciprocate his advance and then his mind just went completely blank. Was it maybe all going to be worth it?
“The fuck, Steven,” Verrill panted when Steven pulled away, his eyes still clenched shut. “Where did that come from?”
“I have no idea,” Steven replied, just as out of breath. “I just want, no I need you to be safe. Promise me you’ll be safe?”
Verrill grinned. “Fuck that shit, I’m going back to work.”
By the time Steven had pulled off Verrills coveralls, practically attempting to rip them in half, both their minds were lost.
Chapter 3: Crossfire
Chapter Text
Verrill didn’t go back to the garage the whole two days that remained until Colin was due to return. When he realised he had to fight to leave cause Steven wasn’t listening to any of it, trying to hold him back as soon as he saw an indication of him leaving.
“No, I have to go back,” Verrill said. “Colins gonna be back today and I haven’t done any of the shit I was supposed to finish.” He untangled himself from Stevens grasp and headed for the door. He heard Steven shout something behind him but couldn’t hear it, didn’t want to hear it. Those two days had not been bad, in fact they had probably been the best two days of his entire fucking life, but somewhere deep inside he had a bad feeling. “Why can’t you just be happy for yourself for experiencing something nice for once, you fucking sad sack?” He muttered to himself as he was about half way back to Colins Auto Spa. He had no answer.
Verrill had only been back about two hours when Colin arrived. And as he had suspected Colin was not happy.
“What the fuck is this, Verrill?” Colin demanded when he realised that most of the things that he’d asked Verrill to do were still undone. “The fuck you been doing for three days?”
“Well, some friends of yours came looking for you, gave me a little kiss to remember them by.” Verrill pointed at his face. “If you don’t believe me you can ask Steven.”
Colin softened a little as he took in the glory of Verrills bruised face but he was not quite placated. “What the fuck does Steven have to do with it?”
“Well, apparently he came over to see you and found me and took me to the hospital. When I came back the next day to work he said I should sleep at his place. I don’t know why but I felt like shit so I took him up on it. Maybe he was just trying to be friendly or something, I don’t know.”
“Still doesn’t explain the lack of work.”
“I only just got back here,” Verrill replied. He could tell Colin was beginning to simmer.
“What the fuck were you doing at Stevens place for two whole days that was so important that you couldn’t do your fucking job?”
“Nothing really, I think I was asleep for most of the time. They had some sort of electric thing. My brain was fucking mush.” Verrill sighed. He could already tell that Colin didn’t believe him.
“Not even you would sleep for two fucking days, you lazy fuck!”
Verrill tightened the grip on the wrench he was holding as he heard the words coming out of his own mouth. “All right, you wanna know what I was doing at Stevens for two whole days? I’ll tell you what, we were fucking our brains out! That what you wanted to hear?”
To say that Colin was angry would be an understatement, the fury that gripped him increased the heat in the garage space by a few degrees as he grabbed the first thing he could see to give Verrill a good hiding.
When Verrill saw Colin grab the broken car antennae he didn’t plead, he didn’t try to run, he simply hunched down and covered his face as Colin let loose with his weapon.
“This is for lying, you piece of shit!” Colin shouted as he whipped Verrill mercilessly. “And this is for making up shitty excuses and fucking slacking off!” When one of the lashes caught Verrill on the hand and a dark red strip of blood appeared immediately it struck the breaks on Colins punishment. Fucker wouldn’t work with busted hands. He threw the antennae back onto the work bench. “Now get the fuck back to work!” He growled as he headed to the back room, slamming the door behind him.
“You’re so fucking smart,” Verrill muttered to himself as he rose to his feet, rubbing himself where Colin had hit him with the antennae. But he was still alive, that was something. Now all he had to do was hope that he would never have to face Steven ever again.
Verrill was not to have his wish granted. Three days later Steven showed up and asked for Colin. He did his best trying to not look at him.
“Hey, Steven!” Colin greeted his friend. “Good to see you, I was meaning to call you.” He shot Verrill a grim look. “Needed to clear up some things.”
“Yeah?” Steven asked and also shot Verrill a glance.
“Yeah, you know anything about what happened with Verrill here when I was gone?”
“Oh that,” Steven replied, seemingly somewhat relieved. “Apparently some thugs showed up looking for you and when he wouldn’t tell them they worked him over. According to the doctor they used some kind of electric device.”
Verrill took a deep breath. Steven telling Colin that he didn’t snitch on Colins whereabouts would tip the scales a little in his favour.
“How did you get involved?” Colin asked.
“I was passing by and saw the commotion so I drove over and scared them away. Had to call an ambulance cause he was a fucking mess.”
Verrill wondered how he should feel about them talking about him like he wasn’t even there.
“He wouldn’t stay there so I convinced him to come over to sleep at my place. He was in no condition to work, Colin, really.”
“He actually slept for two fucking days?” Colin asked, the doubt audible from a mile away.
As Steven opened his mouth Verrill could literally see his brain chicken out. He was gonna lie and Colin was going to believe him.
“Yeah, man,” Steven replied. “Like I said, he was a fucking mess. They really worked him over pretty bad. I’m pretty sure that if he hadn’t absconded he would still be in the hospital.”
Verrill rubbed his hand where Colin had struck him with the car antennae and waited for the inevitable.
Colin looked at Verrill and then back at Steven. His first instinct when Verrill had said he’d been sleeping was that he’d been lying but if Steven corroborated his story then he must have been mistaken. “All right then,” he said. “I’ll cut him some slack.”
Verrill realised that this had probably never happened before, that Colin would actually admit that he was justified in not doing his job, but he felt no joy. Stevens lie burned the inside of his chest like break fluid and he could hardly breathe.
“Was there anything in particular you wanted to see me about?” Colin asked Steven.
“Oh, yeah, my car is making a weird sound. Can you come look at it?”
“Of course, of course.”
Verrill watched Colin follow Steven out of the garage. He wanted to grab everything that wasn’t nailed it down and throw it at Stevens head but all he managed was to throw the wrench he’d been holding into a corner as hard as he could.
Outside both Colin and Steven turned when they heard the racket.
“What the hell is his problem?” Steven asked with a chuckle.
Colin shook his head. “I don’t know. He’s always been volatile. Doesn’t take much to get him riled up. I’ll have a word with him later.”
Knowing his friend, Steven felt a slight pang in his chest that ‘having a word’ meant something completely different, not knowing that Colin had already ‘had a word’ with Verrill over the incident. However, he was also quite sure that there was no way Verrill would have told Colin the truth about what had happened. Colins fairly outspoken views on all that was pretty well known among people who knew him at all. He wouldn’t fucking dare.
“So what is the problem?”
“What isn’t the problem?” Steven joked as he opened the driver side door of his twenty year old Chevrolet Impala. As Colin laughed he became convinced that he was off the hook. He’d walk away from this and forget that any of it ever happened.
When Colin came back into the garage he was satisfied to see that Verrill had gone back to working on the car but as he passed he could quite easily tell that there was something wrong. When he walked by Verrill turned away from him, as if he was trying to hide his face, but he’d already seen the tears welling up in his eyes. In the doorway of the back room he stopped and watched Verrill and realised that he was certainly trying to work but not actually getting much done. An odd sensation beset his mind. Could it be that Verrill had actually been the one who told the truth and Steven lied? He had certainly trusted his gut feeling that Verrill was lying when he’d said he had slept for two days. He was a pretty bad liar. And then Steven had corroborated that story but it seemed to have made Verrill extremely upset. That was certainly new. Usually if he came across something that irked him, which was pretty much everything truth be told, he’d react with venom, not emotion.
Colin closed the door to the back room quietly behind him and sat down at his desk. He didn’t know how to deal with this. On the one hand he could believe his friend of twenty years on his words only or he could believe the state Verrill was in at that moment. If there was anything he was certain about it was that Verrill would never pull an acting stunt like that. His go to method of dealing with anything was cursing at it. Or throwing things. The conclusion dawned on him. He would have to have some taxing conversations and make some seriously difficult decisions.
Chapter 4: Sparks
Chapter Text
As Verrill rounded the corner back to the front of the shop he stopped dead in his tracks. It was Steven. “Colin isn’t in,” he said as nonchalantly as he possibly could, even though it was obvious that Steven was leaving.
“Yeah, I know,” Steven replied. “I already checked.”
For a couple of moments they stood still and said nothing.
“Why did you lie to Colin?” Verrill suddenly asked, his mind not even getting a chance to object before his subconscious blurted out the question that had been bubbling underneath for days now.
For a split second Stevens gaze shifted before he replied. “What do you mean, lie to Colin?”
“About what happened at your place,” Verrill said. “When you took me home from the hospital. I told Colin the truth because he didn’t believe me when I tried to lie to him. And then you lied to him and he believed you and got angry at me for making shit up.”
“Well, don’t make shit up then,” Steven said.
Verrill stared. “Are you taking Colins side?”
“Yeah, obviously. Don’t talk shit about people, Verrill.”
Ever so slowly the ground began to tilt. Steven was actually standing there denying that anything happened. The idea snuck into his head. Had he imagined it? Was it all a fever dream? No, it couldn’t be. The bastard was just going to pretend none of it happened and Colin would believe him too. “Fucking cocksucker…” Verrill muttered.
“No, you are,” Steven replied with a smirk and turned to walk away but then stopped. “And Verrill, if you try spreading your little made up story I’ll pick up where those three thugs left off and shove a stun gun down your fucking throat.”
Verrill didn’t know how long he’d stood there still in the same spot after Steven left. He didn’t know how he got inside and carried on working or for how long he’d done that, and he couldn’t remember how long it was now since he’d realised that he’d drunk too much. As the rain hammered down and his body got ever colder, every step felt like it might be his last. He would just make a pathetic splat on the rain soaked ground and drown in an inch of water. He tried to envision how far it was now back to the garage but he could hardly see his own hands any more. He wondered if Colin would even think about where he might be but his brain was hardly working. His whole body was shaking from the cold, though the alcohol still held on making him numb on the inside. At least that was good. That was the way it should be. Think nothing, feel nothing. Just breathe and be silent.
His foot hit a rock sticking out of the ground and the last of his balance disappeared with a pop as he collapsed. He managed to get back up on all fours but with no balance left at all he fell over on his side when he tried to rise up. He closed his eyes. This was probably for the best. Nobody would miss him anyway.
Richard Richard sprinted from the bus stop up the few dozen feet to his rather sad and unkept lawn and would have run as fast as he could to the warmth inside if he hadn’t caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. Something that was not supposed to be lying on his lawn. He stopped and in the rain and the darkness his brain refused to identify properly what his eyes were seeing so he walked over. When he realised that it was a man lying there passed out he gasped audibly and set about trying to get him up. It wasn’t easy because he wasn’t strong at all but as he pulled on his arm with a deep groan the unconscious man seemed to find some kind of lucidity and held onto him. When Richard directed him to step he stepped and he managed to manoeuvre him into the house and to the guest room where he let him fall backwards onto the bed.
Richard wondered for a little bit if he should have a go at undressing this unconscious stranger in his spare bed but came to the conclusion that removing his skull adorned black cap and putting the heat up a little would have to do. He still stood for a little while just taking in the sight of him. Apart from the cap he’d only be wearing black cargo pants and some kind of monster t-shirt in the pouring rain. He was probably severely inebriated. He wouldn’t wake up for a long while yet even though he was soaking wet, the water dripping off his long black hair. The bed would be soaked but the heating would sort it. It was pricy at times but if there was anything Richard Richard was absolutely prepared to spend money on it was feeling toasty in his large home, even though much of it was showing its age a bit.
“Well, won’t do anything standing here all night,” Richard said to himself. “I’ll check on him tomorrow.”
When Richard returned to the guest room around noon the next day he found the stranger had already disappeared. “Oh…” he sighed quietly as he realised he’d been excited to find out more about this strange looking character that he’d literally found on his lawn. For a couple of moments he felt sad but then he noticed the black cap still sitting on the night stand. He picked it up and inspected it. The skull and crossbones motif had been crudely sewn onto the cap with black thread. For some reason it made him feel warm.
Verrill managed two days before he had to admit to himself that he would have to go get his cap back. He could just about remember where the house was where he’d woken up after passing out in the cold rain. Somebody had clearly taken pity on him. Again. He would have to find out who.
Verrill turned down the music. “Colin?” he called from the garage.
“Yeah?” came the reply from the back room.
“Is it okay if I go look for my cap? I lost it the other day and I’m really fucking uncomfortable.”
“Ah, sure. Just don’t take all fucking day!”
“Won’t!” Verrill called back, already on his way out. It wouldn’t take long. The house was only around five minutes walk away. Then again, he didn’t know that he’d lost it there. He was only acting on a hunch.
The house stood at the end of a long street that had probably once been the driveway to it but was now a regular street with normal houses on both sides until about three hundred feet away from the old building. It had the air of having once been a stately home, with gothic gables and stairs up to a patio spanning the whole front of the house but it seemed to be sagging ever so slightly and the large lawn was ragged, the fence around it collapsed and mostly turned back into earth. It did look freshly painted though but Verrill saw as soon as he stepped onto the patio that it was probably not a professional who had done the work.
Verrill took a deep breath and knocked. There was a racket inside, then a little bit of silence and then the door opened.
“I’m so sorry about that!” Richard gushed as he opened the door. “Your knocking startled me so I dropped one of aunt Velmas boxes.” Richard met the questioning look of the stranger standing outside the door. “Oh, sorry, stuff in the attic, doesn’t matter. How can I heeh…” Richard realised who it was who was standing there. “Oh, hello, it’s you.” The image of the wet mess in his bed popped into his head. This time the stranger was wearing dark blue coveralls that looked like it had seen better days but he could see the monster t-shirt peeking through. He had to stop his train of thought when he started wondering if he was wearing any pants underneath.
Verrill smiled. “Yes, it’s me.” All the trepidation he’d felt at the task at hand disappeared looking into a pair of slightly sad looking grey eyes belonging to a man almost his height with shoulder length dark blond hair swept to the side. He was wearing a white shirt and khaki coloured corduroy pants which seemed a bit too big for him, perhaps in an attempt to hide the fact that he was a bit pudgy. He stifled an urge to reach out and give him a little squeeze.
“What brings you here?” Richard realised that it was probably a stupid question but he was damned if he wasn’t going to utilise this opportunity to have a conversation with someone else than his demented family to its fullest.
“I just wanted to thank you for taking me in from the rain.”
“Oh, pshaw, it was nothing.”
“No, I’m pretty sure you saved my life.”
Richard tried to think about his family again to stop himself from blushing. It almost worked. “I’m sure you would have been fine. You look like a sturdy fellow.”
Verrill chuckled. “Thanks.”
“Was there anything else?” Richard hoped he didn’t sound like he was trying to get rid of him but the thought had occurred to him that the stranger didn’t know that he’d left the cap there.
“Well, I was wondering if I might have left my cap here that night? It’s black with skull and crossbones on it.”
Richard pretended to think. He didn’t need to. The cap had been sitting on the kitchen table almost the whole time since he left and he’d been staring at it. “Oh, yes, of course!” he exclaimed, a little too loudly. “Yes, yes, it’s here. I’ll go get it.” He started to go inside the house but then he turned back towards the stranger. He would have to try. “Come inside! Don’t stand there on the porch like a scarecrow.” He laughed at his own joke.
Verrill stepped into the large foyer that was quite empty. On the row of hooks on the wall hung a lonely greyish brown dust coat and below it rested two pairs of shoes. Brown dress shoes that looked like they’d been worn for three decades and only slightly less worn black penny loafers. He looked down at his own black combat boots. The style could hardly be different but they were just as worn as these shoes, they had probably been quite fancy once, and one heel was patched with duct tape. As fast as he’d absconded the last time he was in this house he felt welcome now.
Richard returned with the cap. “Here you go.” He reached out the hand holding the cap towards Verrill. Then he stuck the other one out as well. “I’m Richard, by the way,” he said, as if the price of getting his hat back was a formal introduction.
Verrill chuckled as he grasped Richards hand and took the hat. “Verrill.”
“That’s an interesting name,” Richard mused.
“Thanks, I guess?”
There was silence for a couple of moments.
“Would you like to stay for coffee?” Richard suddenly asked, as if he’d been trying to get the words out and when they finally cleared his tongue they came tumbling like barrells down a hill. “I have tea too, if that’s more your thing, you know. Hell, I might even have a bottle of scotch somewhere!” He laughed nervously.
“Sorry, I can’t stay. I have to get back to work.”
“Oh.” Richard deflated slowly.
Verrill put his cap on and felt almost a rush of relief. “But I suppose that a life rescue is worth a cup of coffee. Will you be home Friday night?”
It took Richard a couple of moments to register. “Oh, yes! Of course! I’m always home. Haven’t got a thing to do in the world!” He laughed, even more nervously than before, and it almost sounded like a manic cackle.
Verrill smiled. “I’ll see you Friday then.” He turned away and left. As he started walking down the pathway through the yard he still hadn’t heard the door close.
Richard stood and stared at Verrill leave. It wasn’t until he’d reached the end of the walkway and turned to go along a path between his yard and the other houses in the street that he realised that he was still standing there in the foyer like somebody had hit him with a freeze ray. He closed the door and still stood there in the same place, looking at the door this time. Then he smiled. Maybe he’d never even show up but this small conversation had made him feel better than he had in years.
Chapter 5: Teatime
Chapter Text
Around mid morning Friday when Verrill remembered what he had promised he felt a pang of regret. He shouldn’t have said that. Now he’d have to go over there and be social, and even worse, maybe he was expected to be normal. Why did he care? He wasn’t sure. He didn’t exactly have much practice in holding up a normal conversation lately. Arguing with Colin and throwing snark at customers hardly counted, did it?
“Can you do me a favour, Verrill?”
Verrill turned. “What?”
“I’ve got someone coming over around five to discuss some business and I’d rather be able to do it in private. Would you mind getting lost?”
Verrill chuckled at Colins attempt at asking politely. “Actually, I was gonna go meet someone anyway. I’m sure he don’t mind I show up early.”
Colin studied Verrill intently. “Are you using this as an excuse to get drunk again?”
“Absolutely not!” Verrill raised both hands into the air. “Swear!”
Colin shook his head. “You know, I can’t even fucking tell with you any more.”
Verrill shrugged. “You have to get me out anyway.”
Colin sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”
When Colin disappeared into the back room Verrill exhaled sharply. He would have to go now. Why didn’t he just say something else? Cause he couldn’t be the fucking liar. That would be the shittiest thing to do ever. Especially after everything that just happened. It would be fine. Just keep working until five and take it from there.
At fifteen to five Verrill was stirred out of his work haze by Colin standing next to him clearing his throat. He looked at the clock. “Oh, right, sorry. I’ll just go and change real quick.”
“You not even gonna clean yourself?” Colin called after him.
“Nope,” Verrill replied with a grin when he re-emerged after having swapped the coveralls for a worn pair of black cargo pants. “What for?”
Colin shook his head. “Nothing, no reason. Now get lost.”
“Do you have like a time frame?”
“What?”
“Like, are you going to take five minutes? Forty minutes? Six hours?”
“How the hell should I know that, you nosy fuck!” Colin snapped and whacked Verrill with the rag he was holding. “Just fuck off already!”
As he half ran out the door for fear of Colin deciding he needed more hiding he wondered about the strong reaction. Colin had sent him out before to “do business in private”, several times, and he had always asked how long he was expected to stay away. This was he first time Colin had been pissed off at his enquiry. Maybe he was just still annoyed about the whole Steven business. Whatever it was he better leave it at the garage. There was no point dragging that shit along.
Standing outside the door Verrill took a deep breath. He had said Friday night but Richard had said that he was always home. Worst case scenario he wasn’t home and he’d convince himself he kept his promise and leave it at that or go somewhere else and come back. He’d hardly pulled his hand off the door after his third knock when the door was swung open.
“Oh hi! You’re early!”
Verrill stared. Though worn the clothes that Richard was wearing were clearly freshly pressed. The pants were a little tight and he wondered if he’d dug up something old he felt was fancy but hadn’t worn it so long that it was too small now. How long had he been waiting? “Oh, yeah,” he replied. “Colin kicked me out.”
“Who?”
“My boss.”
“Oh.” Richard stood confused for a couple of moments before snapping into reality again. “Where are my manners! Come inside! Come inside!” He gestured wildly forwards as he went into the house.
Verrill followed him timidly. He took his shoes off in the foyer but when he stepped into the house proper he couldn’t see Richard anywhere. “Hello?”
Richard appeared from around a corner. “Oh, so sorry!” he gushed. “I don’t often get guests. I forget that not everyone knows this house inside out.” He laughed nervously. He turned away and then turned right back. “Kitchen or living room?”
Verrill shrugged. “Kitchen is fine.”
“Oh, goody. A casual cup of tea, how lovely.” Richard mused, already busying himself with cups in the large kitchen. He turned to Verrill, a slight panic creeping into his face. “Or are you a coffee man?”
“I would prefer coffee, if you’ve got it, but I’m sure tea would be nice.”
Richard thought quickly. “I think I might have some coffee somewhere.” He turned around himself twice. “Damn, damn, why didn’t I think that you would like coffee. Bugger, bugger, damn…”
“It’s fine. Tea is fine.”
“Aha!” Richard exclaimed. “I have some beer in the back of the fridge if you’d rather have some of that.” He winked theatrically. “It is Friday after all!”
Verrill shook his head. “No, no alcohol. I shouldn’t drink.”
“Well, I shouldn’t either,” Richard said as if he was divulging a government secret. “But I sneak one now and then, when auntie Mabel isn’t watching.” He laughed at his own joke for about two seconds but stopped when he saw the grim look on Verrills face.
“No, I mean, I’m not supposed to be drinking at all.”
Richard stared. He was fairly certain that it was a massively inebriated person that he had found on his lawn and dragged in from the rain. “Oh?”
“Like, I did. And… I do, fuck...” How the hell was he supposed to explain this. “I try really really hard not to, cause I can’t control it and Colin will be super pissed at me being my sponsor and all that but…”
“Oh! You’re an alcoholic?”
Verrill was slightly startled by the straight forward question. “Well, yes.”
“Why didn’t you just say that then?”
Sitting there with Richard looking at him like he’d only asked if he wanted milk in his tea he felt stupid. “I don’t know. Usually people have a problem with it.”
“Well, we don’t bother ourselves with those kinds of doo doo heads,” Richard said cheerfully and patted Verrills shoulder as he passed him on his way to find the sugar for the tea.
Verrill felt like he’d stepped into a different world. He wasn’t sure if he felt more like a child being fussed over by a parent or some sort of patient in a very strange hospital.
“What kind of tea would you like?”
“Whatever you like,” Verrill replied.
“Are you quite sure?” Richard stopped opposite Verrill and scrutinised him. “I mean I could always make more tea if you don’t like it, it’s just…”
“No, it’s fine, really. I think I’ve had tea maybe once before in my life and I am not traumatized by it so I think I should manage some more.”
Richard laughed as he pulled several packets of tea down from the cupboard. He took a little while deciding which one to choose before putting the kettle on the stove.
Verrill enjoyed watching Richard making the tea. There was something about the way he moved that was comforting. Maybe it was just because he was a little bit chubby and there was a slightly feminine sway to his actions. He could imagine he would be warm to cuddle up to on cold nights. He looked away to stop himself from going down that trail.
“So, is Verrill your first name or your last name?” Richard suddenly asked.
“Huh?”
“Verrill, is it your last name or your first name? Juts curious.”
“Ahm, it’s my last name actually.”
“Oh, so what is your full name then?”
“Eduardo Eli Verrill,” Verrill said. It felt weird saying those names. He hadn’t used them for a long time.
“Eduardo? Is that like Edward?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, that’s nice,” Richard said as he took the kettle off and prepared to pour the tea into their cups. “So what, do people call you Eddie?”
“No,” Verrill replied sharply. “Nobody does that.”
“Oh, sorry. What do you want me to call you then?”
“Verrill is fine.”
“Right,” Richard said, slightly unsettled by Verrils snappy reply. Then he shook it off. “You can call me Richie, by the way, if you want.”
“So that’s your first name, then?”
Richard shuffled awkwardly as he brought the milk and the sugar over to the table. “Actually it’s both.”
Verrill smiled. “Both?”
“Yeah.”
“So your full name is Richard Richard?”
“Yes.” Richard sat down and tried his best to concentrate on the tea. He always felt quite awkward telling people his name. He didn’t know why, it wasn’t as if he’d chosen it himself. “Milk or sugar?” he held out the small ceramic bowl and jug towards Verrill.
“I’ll have a little bit of sugar,” Verrill replied and reached for the sugar bowl. As he grasped it his hand brushed against Richards and he could literally see the blush travel from his fingers up to his face.
Richard practically hammered the sugar bowl down on the table and thunked himself down into his chair. He clasped his hands together in his lap and stared into his teacup.
“Are you okay?”
Richard looked up. His face was red. “I’m just gonna say it, I’m gonna ask.”
Verrill waited a few moments but Richard said nothing more. “What are you going to ask?”
“Would you stay here tonight?”
“I don’t think I should. Like, don’t get me wrong, I like you. It’s just that the last time I stayed at someones house it ended rather catastrophically badly, so…”
“I was going to ask you to live with me!” Richard cut in and cackled maniacally.
Verrill had to smile. “On the first date?”
Richard went even redder. “This is a date?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Is it?” Richard felt like his brain was a scratched record, the words “It’s a date” repeating loudly in his head.
“I assumed it was,” Verrill said and sipped his tea. It tasted strange now that he was so used to bitter coffee by the gallon but not entirely unpleasant.
“And you came, still?”
“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”
Richard chuckled nervously. “Well, it’s like the thing you said about people having trouble with your alcoholism, people tend to have a problem with me.”
“Why would that be? You’re like the sweetest guy.”
Richard blushed monstrously. “Nobody has ever said that to me. Even when I was out and about every day trying to find someone to share my life with, or hell, even just one night, I had no luck.” He gazed into his teacup. “In the end I just gave up and resigned myself to being alone in the world.” He looked up again. “And then I literally find a guy lying on my lawn!” He laughed a little. “When you snuck away I thought I’d probably never see you again but then you came to fetch your cap and you were so nice. I just wanted to be close to you forever. I spent so much time being alone and miserable and then you smiled at me and it made me feel alive again.”
Verrill had to admit that he did feel like he could forget the whole Steven business. What if he might have something else? Something better. He contemplated saying something nice back but his snark got the better of him. “I’m not really this nice. Like, at all.”
“Oh, nonsense. More tea?”
“Sure.” He wondered if Richard really believed he was this nice or if it was all just desperation refusing to hear what he said. Then again, he was in no position to talk shit about other peoples desperation. And what did he have to lose, really? “You know, when I think about it, I have no idea when I’m allowed back to the garage so I’ll accept your offer to stay.”
“Really?” Richard was so startled he spilled his tea.
“Yeah, but I’m staying in the guest room. I like it there.”
“Oh, no problem, no problem at all!” Richard was already out of his chair and drying up the spilled tea on the table. “I’ll go change the sheets.” He headed out of the kitchen. “What would you like for dinner?” He called from the hallway but didn’t wait for Verrill to answer.
Verrill sipped his tea. Was this what happened when Colin went home to his wife? Did she make him tea and make his bed and cook him dinner? He could get used to this, this doting. Then again, maybe it wouldn’t last. They didn’t even know each other at all yet. It was all bound to come crashing down in the end. He thought back to Steven and felt a little guilty when he heard Richard humming in the hallway on his way to the guest room. He hadn’t really thought about it at all, it still felt too painful, but right then he had an inkling that if he weighed the good part of it against the bad part of it he might even decide that the good bits were worth the bad bits. Maybe not by a big margin, but still.
Richard stuck his head into the doorway. “Do you like sausages?”
“Sure,” Verrill replied with a smile.
“Splendid!” Richard exclaimed and disappeared again, presumably to do something completely unrelated to his question.
Verrill chuckled. Yeah, this just might work.
