Remission

[ViolentMedic]

((Joe Carrasco continued from Confusional State.))

He hadn't gone far from Kyran when the announcement hit.

...

Following the announcements, Joe sat on the floor  of a classroom with his hands curled in his hair. He was making some kind of noise. He wasn't sure if it was laughing or crying or just... making noise. His eyes were watery, but it felt like part-laughter.

Because it was funny.

Funny in the worst possible way.

Of course Marcus would murder immediately.

Of course Joe would mess up and kill someone who had done nothing except be confusing.

"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid," he mumbled. He was grinning. Or grimacing. Had Travis been doing that? Laughing because he had to make noise? Joe was as bad as Travis now. Worse, maybe. He'd murdered someone for being confusing. So what if he'd originally thought it was Joachim? He couldn't say he was sure by the end.

And Marcus... why did it have to be Marcus? Why'd Marcus have to murder? Why'd Marcus have to give him this stupid generic description of Joachim?

Joe looked down at his post-its. He started shredding them, letting the scraps of yellow paper fall to the ground.

What good had it been? What good was any of this? What was the point in trying to kill the killers when he always got it wrong? When he let the killers leave and shot the people who hadn't done anything wrong? What was the point when he was worse?

What was the point when people like Marcus were becoming murderers? If Marcus was murdering, what chance did anyone else have at holding back?

Did he have to kill Marcus now?

Joe dropped the shreds of post-it on the ground before looking at the two items he'd put aside. The necklace he'd taken from Jo—from Kyran. And the gun that Hansel had let him have. He picked up the necklace. He rubbed his thumb along the surface of the little heart.

He still had nothing to say. He couldn't even form the word 'sorry.'

He kept a hold of it as he picked up the gun. Every time he touched a gun, someone innocent died. He brushed a hand along it before turning it around so the barrel was pointed right at his face.

Go ahead. There's no-one left. Let someone else deal with it. Someone who isn't a colossal fuck-up. You'll just hurt more people if you stay.

He rested his forehead on the barrel and shut his eyes. He put his finger on the trigger. But he didn't pull it.

Travis popped into his mind.

Someone else will take care of him. You won't do any good.

He imagined Aileen glaring at him.

You'll just shoot someone else.

Joe sat there for what felt like hours. Maybe it was hours. One twitch of the finger and this would be over. It would have been such a relief. Hell couldn't be worse than this. Nothing could be worse than this.

But he had an obligation. Whether it did any good or not... Travis was his obligation.

He turned the gun around again. He put it back in his bag. He wouldn't touch it again. He would not lift a hand against anyone else. He would find and deal with Travis. And then he would deal with himself.

Everyone else could do whatever they wanted. This whole island was rotten. Anyone who made it this far... they were probably bad. Who even cared who got out?

Before he left he put the necklace on, taping the broken part of the chain up with duct tape that he'd taken from Travis. Reminder of what he'd done. What he would not do again under any circumstance. He wiped his eyes and nose and tried taking deep breaths until the tiny, choked noises stopped coming out.

No matter what he did, there would be mistakes made by someone. So if he restricted himself... kept only Travis in view... then none of the rest would be his business. Everyone else could have their own little bloodbath and just leave him out of it, and he'd do the same to them. Deal with Travis. Then pay for his own mistakes.

Yeah... that'd work.

((Joe Carrasco continued in Broken Hearts of Gold.))