SOTF Archive/SOTF Classic

[Camilla Bell continued from I Don't Wanna Be Myself]

The next time they entered the infirmary, Camilla made sure to close the door before they went to sleep.

Well, when Diego and Theo went to sleep. Camilla leaned against the wall by the door, listening and watching. What was she listening and watching for, anyway? Throughout that whole day, they'd searched for Declyn. She set off right after Diego had recovered enough to walk without help, and it was all she could think of during. She barely even spoke to the others.

It wasn't fair. They had gone through so much to try and find Diego, even after they found out about what he did, for his sake. Because it wasn't right to leave behind one of their own. Because they had to stick together- all they had was each other.

But maybe not even that.

Her heart sank with the sun, that day. And now she was awake at night, guarding against attacks she couldn't repel, waiting in dreadful silence for the announcement that wouldn't come for hours.

That silence had hung over them for a while. There were things she had to discuss with Diego, but she couldn't while they were still looking for Declyn- well, she could, but why would she? What would she even say? Camilla was clumsy with words even in the normal, sane world.

She suddenly opened her eyes. Had she nearly fallen asleep? That would be unacceptable.

There was rustling, in that very room. A shadow by the bags. Apparently, she'd closed her eyes long enough that she needed to re-adjust to the darkness. But that would take too long- she felt beside her, and sighed in relief when she got confirmation that yes, she did in fact put the flashlight there and she wasn't a forgetful idiot.

With a click, there was light.

((Diego Larrosa continues from I Don't Wanna Be Myself))

What this was was a spur-of-the-moment decision, a moment based on a whim. Whims had led him to run from a party, to kill a man. What stopped them from having him rob a friend?

He had woken up to nothing in particular, thought for a moment, and decided that he wanted to leave, that he needed to leave. Theo was asleep, Cam was asleep, they were both asleep, his departure would be painless until it wasn't, and by then, he wouldn't be around to see it, so it was fine.

He had thought for a moment about the silence, about how there was nothing to say between three people that had been friends for years at this point. He thought for a moment about how the silence was a blessing, a finite blessing, and how at some point, that silence would end. He thought about how he had wanted to avoid the end of that silence, however it came, be it a verbal confrontation or an unspeakable something else. And these thoughts, these whims, were fleeting, so it was best to take advantage of this while it was still here, before inertia settled in and he got locked in to the hard questions, the hard moments. It would be painless until it wasn't, it was fine.

The burst of motivation led him to glide silently across the room, to a bag, any bag. He took out the tin of crackers with some weight in it, a bottle of water, clothes that were decidedly not for men. Billy had stolen his bag, his food, his rations, his medical kit, his shirt even. Diego had left them behind in the post-attack panic, and he had only realized his mistake in the middle of the woods, far too late. He had nothing, no weight on his back to leave him grounded, no covering to leave him protected, so it would be fine, they would understand. Diego had left the crackers and the water and the clothes and the necklace behind, he wasn't completely heartless, they would forgive him for it, unless they didn't, in which case he wouldn't be there for it, it would be fine. And in the midst of this split-second decision-making about what to take and what to leave, he forgot to mind the rustling of fabric against fabric, the slight tinkle of a diamond necklace Diego had never seen before as he set it on the floor.

He had been so close. He was about to leave.

But then there was a sigh, a click, and then a boy in headlights, frozen, under the door frame with a bag that wasn't his slung around his shoulder. And suddenly he was there for all of it, and all of it was no longer painless.

What was she supposed to expect? Not this, she assumed.

Camilla blinked. Rubbed her eyes once, and stared back at Diego. If she wasn't mistaken, a bunch of stuff was lying on the floor- the necklace had a glint to it, however faint, even now- and her bag in Diego's hands. He looked ready to leave, with it.

She wasn't entirely certain that she wasn't dreaming. She kept the flashlight on.

It wasn't hard to guess what had gone on, but she was going to ask anyway, so she stood up.

Her voice was less quiet, more devoid of energy. "Diego, what are you doing?"

Maybe this could all have an innocent explanation. Actually probably not, but if Diego chose to tell that lie, and go back to bed after putting everything back where it belonged, well that wouldn't be an undesirable outcome.

He wanted to tell that lie. It would've been so much easier for the both of them, in the moment, if he did.

It would've been easier, until it wasn't.

He stayed silent for several seconds not out of a lack of anything to say, but a physical refusal. But each second that passed weighed on the back of his neck, wrapped around him, crushed him. He was left no choice otherwise.

"I'm leaving."

It would've been easier to run away that moment, too, but he didn't. He didn't know if it was out of fear, or out of some moral obligation to explain himself, but he stayed, even though he shouldn't have.

Somehow, that answer was worse than any bold-faced lie that could have been told. But she was too tired to react in any way other than continuing to silently stare, for a little bit.

So it came to that, huh? Once Diego left, it would just be her and Theo trying to find Declyn, and then what? Assuming they did find him- better phrasing, assuming they found him alive.

One pointless chase leading into another, just to lose the friends they found shortly after. Camilla wondered if it could just be chalked up to bad luck, or if it was something bigger than that. No, that was ridiculous. There wasn't any cosmic force out to get her...

...right?

It was painfully apparent that if Diego truly wanted to leave, she couldn't stop him, not in any way that truly kept them together. Threatening him was out of the question, even barring the fact she had nothing to threaten him with.

So was this the end? Was the day before today all for nothing?

There was only one question left to ask.

"Why?"

It was the only question he hoped she didn't ask, but then again, it was pointless, because it was the only question she could ask.

The bag weighed and ached on his shoulders, Diego shivered despite the sweltering heat. He hated that she wasn't shouting at him, that she wasn't throwing things at him, threatening him. At least then he would have an excuse, however thin and flimsy. At least then he could tell himself it was for the best.

He didn't want to answer, he wasn't supposed to answer, but when had he done what he was supposed to, anyways? When had he ever made the right decision?

"I... I'm scared. That's it. I'm scared."

A pause, the chirping of cicadas in the background, Theo exhaling, unconscious in the background.

"Why do you want me to stay?"

Scared?

He was going to have to be more specific than that but- actually no he didn't. She knew how that felt. When she closed her eyes she could almost transport herself back to the stables, whimpering about how much she didn't want to die. If only she knew how she'd turn out.

Was she scared now? In some way, yes. That was what all of today was about, wasn't it? Being scared that they wouldn't find Declyn. Yet she didn't feel the nervous energy that would imply anymore. That was probably a bad sign.

And then he asked why Camilla would want him to stay. It was unclear to her if Diego had just figured that out, that she'd rather he stay with the group, or if he knew before. Anyway, what was she supposed to say to that? Something about it felt very self-evident. The gardening club stuck together. Because they were friends.

...use your words, Camilla.

She took a deep breath in. It trembled more than she'd like. Her hand with the flashlight lowered. "I just... isn't it- we want- well, more like I want but-"

She took another breath in. There was nothing to be nervous about, other than Diego leaving and making everything for nothing.

"-I was hoping we could all stick together here. The gardening club I mean. Or..."

Camilla glanced out the door. She wondered where Declyn was.

She wondered where Drew was.

"...or what's left of it, anyway."

Tears pricked Diego's eyes now, blurred his vision. She was making this too hard. She wasn't supposed to do that. But she couldn't have done anything else. He didn't want her to do that, he meant.

"I. But, like. I don't."

Words started and stopped, lived and died in his throat. If he spoke too much, he'd break down, and then he'd never leave. He'd break down, and it would be a pathetic sight, and he couldn't allow that, he didn't want that to happen.

"I... why me?" His voice cracked, despite himself. "I'm... I literally robbed someone in this very building. I killed someone. I'm a bad person, why do you still want me around?"

Tear the Band-aid off, deal with the pain now. He felt liquid drip down his face.

Camilla wanted to look away.

There were a lot of things she wanted, but the universe clearly didn't give enough of a damn about most of those. So she didn't look away. It cost her. But she wiped her eyes before the tears could travel down her face.

It seemed it still wasn't evident to Diego. She opened her mouth to explain-

-and immediately closed it again.

Well no wonder. It wasn't even that obvious to herself. Well yeah, they were friends back home, but why were they still friends? Well, more like why Camilla still considered Diego someone who had to be protected- brought into the folds of the group and protected.

Her eyes wandered to the necklace on the floor. It reminded her of a friend. Funny that she still considered Julien a friend. Maybe his case wasn't that different from Diego's.

It reminded her of happier times.

After what felt like ages of silence, she came up with an answer.

"Have I ever mentioned I love you?"

Well, not really. It was another question.

"And Declyn, and Theo, and all of them."

Kind of.

"And- and I don't think- I don't believe in putting conditions on- on that."

God, Camilla. Of all the times to get kind of sappy.

Diego laughed. It could've been a sob, too, he couldn't tell the difference.

"You did, yeah. After... after Swiftball."

She'd texted him those words late that night, while he was studying. He hadn't even realized there was a party until a week after the fact. And, the text had terrified him, because he was gay and she didn't know that, and he thought she was ace but maybe she'd changed her mind. But then a bunch of other texts came in succession, riddled with typos and various other grammatical mistakes, and Diego understood. But, it was the first time anyone other than his mom had told him that. He was still waiting on a guy to say it, but it was nice, and sometimes when he was feeling bad he scrolled back through months of conversation to read that text in particular.

The memory was nice, but it was just that now.

A smile faded from his lips, one he hadn't even realized was there. His shoulders started burning now, and so he adjusted his bag, turned fully towards Cam. Settled in place.

"That was before. I... God. Aren't things different now? Don't I scare you? Why"—his voice cracked—"why aren't you scared of me? And, h—how did the whole thing with Declyn and Drew go down, anyways? Why doesn't he scare you?"

He should've stopped asking questions, but this was the last chance he'd have. Might as well take the opportunity.

That's what she thought, after the party. Diego smiled, and Camilla gently smiled back. When his smile faded, so did hers. What was said afterwards didn't help.

In all honesty, Diego wasn't someone you were scared of. And then he asked about Declyn and Drew.

She took a moment to appreciate her settled breathing, before she walked over to where the necklace lay. There, she sat down by it, and took it into her hand. For a moment, she glanced back up at Diego, before turning her gaze back to the necklace. Turned it around in her fingers.

Best to get to the point.

"Declyn and Drew... that was a mercy. On the first day, Drew was shot by-"

Her face contorted into one of disgust. She kept her gaze down, away from Diego's eyes.

"-Gervais. His arm, it... it got infected. I saw it, it was..."

She shook her head.

"...bad. He was in so much pain Diego, he-"

Her fingers stopped fiddling with the necklace. Everything slumped.

"He asked Declyn to end it."

She closed her eyes, as she felt them getting misty. Another breath in.

She wondered where Drew was now.

There was a long, unsteady exhale.

"Fuck." He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

He could feel the fabric of the bag imprinting on the back of his neck, at this point. He let it do so. He couldn't stay comfortable. He couldn't stay.

"I... I didn't. I didn't know. I thought."

He thought it had somehow been anything else. As if Declyn could've hurt Drew in any other way, other than what was necessary. But the thought didn't need to be finished, said. It could stay and rot within him.

"I'm so—I'm sorry. I didn't know."

Camilla silently stared down at the necklace, for a bit.

"You know now," she finally replied, her voice a bit shaky. She gulped, and wiped a tear off her face. Maybe there were more to come.

It would have been better if Declyn was there to explain it. Hopefully they'd find him. Hopefully, Diego would be around for it. Yet, the odds of either seemed low.

"I- I was hoping Declyn would-"

Stopping, she wiped another tear away and looked up at Diego.

"Hey, uh... your... when you- do you want to like... talk about that?"

It felt right. One elephant in the room had been explained, now for another. Assuming of course, Diego wanted to talk.

"I mean it's fine if you don't-"

"No, I should."

His body tensed. He felt himself shaking. But, this was what it always supposed to lead up to, anyways. Better sooner than later.

"I don't... have that excuse. Or. Not excuse, but. I don't have a good reason. Cause, like, I wanted to do bad. I, uh, I wanted to live. And, I was just. So, so, so scared of dying. I saw someone die, Chris, on my first day here. Her throat got bit out. And, I just, I didn't want that to happen to me. So, I went with Lorenzo, when I found him. I went with him, and we robbed a guy in this building, and then we robbed another guy on the cliffs. Mike. We were robbing him, and, uh."

He swallowed, his throat still felt tight, clogged. He felt like he was choking.

"He called me a pussy." Diego spat the last word out. "And I, uh, I had the shovel against his neck and I just. Stabbed. Him. I-I-I did that."

The words fell flat on the floor, the trail they left hung in the air.

He wanted to talk about the party, how humiliated he had felt. He wanted to talk about how kids had called him that, that and other words before. How they were right. He wanted to tell her he was gay. He wanted to tell her he had followed Lorenzo because he wanted to be around him, he wanted to be with him. Despite what he'd done. He wanted to tell her everything. He wanted someone to know for once.

"I-"

But, what he wanted didn't matter, right now. All it would sum up to was that he was scared, that he had been scared for his entire life. It would sum up to the fact that he'd chosen to be with a monster, to help a monster, to become a monster. It wouldn't change the fact that he killed someone over a five-letter word. There was nothing that could ever change that.

"I hate"—a sob escaped his throat—"myself. For it. If I could take it back, I would. But I can't."

He wiped his eyes again. He felt the bag weighing him down, rooting him to the ground. He felt so small, again. As always. So useless.

"So. Do you still want me to stay now?"

He felt like he knew the answer.

Lorenzo. Chris. Mike. Figures in Diego's story.

Camilla had to take a moment to sort through names- Lorenzo, he'd been on the announcements some. Back home, she was pretty sure he was a friend of Declyn. You know, in the "guy pals" innuendo-ish sense. Chris, throat bitten out. Did he mean Christine? She was one of the first deaths- it was difficult to forget that first announcement, or at least that bit of it. And finally, Mike... as in, the Mike who'd been at the makeshift shelter and then wandered off with Angie to who-knows, probably. And then was murdered. By Diego.

She remembered not being terribly trusting of Lorenzo back home. Got into a fight with Julien once. And it all made sense, in a way, Diego's story- he found someone, not necessarily the best apple in the bunch, but didn't want to be alone out here.

And it made sense because Camilla had been there, for just a little bit. She got out before she did something she regretted.

Diego wasn't so lucky.

She'd hate herself, too. Most people would, if they had humanity left.

Still clutching the necklace, she got up, walked over to Diego, and hugged him.

"Of course I do. I was hoping we'd stick together because..."

She paused.

"...because you're all family to me, really."

That label was always in the back of her mind. But saying it out loud felt... cathartic. Thinking about it all, the second family she'd built, was cathartic.

This family couldn't fall apart too.