Fic: It's Always What You Didn't Say (4/8)
Part 3
---
After three days of blaring silence, Stella heaved a loud attention-seeking sigh from the passenger seat. She tapped her nails, (which she'd painted again), against the window. Every few minutes she'd glance at Mark or Eduardo to see if she was being disruptive enough for one of them to break their angry silence. In the backseat, Eduardo stared stiffly at his hands. He didn't seem to be aware of anything going on around him, and was so closed off he was almost a different person.
Mark was still Mark though, and Stella was grating on him.
He glanced at her, gave her a meaningful look telling her to stop. She raised an intrigued eyebrow, and began tapping louder. Eduardo stared. Stella tapped. Mark exhaled.
And then he made the car swerve violently before driving normally again. Stella hit her head off the window, and Eduardo was jerked forward, causing him to finally look up.
"Whoa!"
"What the hell, Zuck!"
Mark clenched his jaw and drove quickly before suddenly hitting the breaks. Stella and Eduardo both swung forward and back into their seats.
"What are you doing!" Eduardo shouted. Stella gripped onto the side of the car, in case Mark tried to do something crazy again.
"Oh, good. You can talk," Mark said dryly.
Eduardo gave him a look that was confusion mixed with a bit of hurt that had no reason to be there. Seriously, his eyes did their own thing sometimes.
"Keep a conversation with Stella so she stops acting like bratty kid who's not getting enough attention."
Stella scoffed. "Oh, you're one to talk. You haven't stopped sulking since you guys had your little argument." She sat sideways in her seat so that she was partly facing both of them. "Which, by the way, is really dumb. Why are you even fighting? Because you didn't listen to each other years ago? Get over it! You're both dead for God's sake." She pointed at Wardo, "You're in a world with no coffee machines!" She turned back to face Mark. "And you are supposed to be alive right now!" She yelled.
"You're both acting like idiots because you can't let go of something that happened years ago! This road-trip was supposed to be fun. Nothing ever is down here. You guys can't even make the most of a simple adventure in a car? Seriously?"
Mark and Eduardo shared a guilty look.
Stella glared at them. "Whatever. Just drive, Mark. We'll find the PIC, then we can all go back to being alone and miserable, and you'll never have to put up with each other ever again." She turned to face the front and crossed her arms defiantly. "It's what you both want, right?"
No. It was the last thing Mark wanted. This was going to be the last time ever that he'd be near Eduardo. Once this ended, they'd never see each other again. They'd never speak again.
Mark always assumed things were never fully finished with them. He knew Eduardo was mad, he knew they'd have to work at it if they were ever going to be friends again, he knew he'd have to apologize. He just didn't think that he'd only have one chance to do it. Or that that chance would be in the afterlife.
"I'm sorry," He said to Stella.
"Yeah, me too. We're ... jerks," Eduardo said.
Stella looked back and forth between them. Her expression softened to one of fondness and she rolled her eyes affectionately. "Don't worry about it. It's just a little bit of cabin fever. We're nearly at the motel anyway, and there's a bar beside it," She said cheerfully. "There'll be new people there and I won't be so cranky anymore."
Mark didn't really believe her, but she nudged him on the shoulder and told him to drive, so he did.
---
The room they got at the motel had two beds. A double and a single that Eduardo claimed as soon as they walked through the door. Mark didn't really have a problem with that as long as Stella didn't kick or snore. She'd never done it in the past when they'd all shared a tent, so Mark knew it would be okay. He'd still have preferred the single to himself, (and it bothered him that Eduardo was still being all distant and closed off from the rest of them).
As soon as they got there, Stella excused herself and practically ran to the bar next door so she could have human contact with some one who wasn't moping around. Mark and Eduardo stood awkwardly in the room, until Eduardo suggested they get a drink and some food.
"Sure," said Mark, and trailed behind him.
The bar was surprisingly crowded. Stella had already found a group of guys and started flirting her way into a game of darts. Mark always found himself feeling astounded when he remembered she killed herself once. She was the definition of a social butterfly. She was confidant, beautiful, and smart. It was impossible to picture some one like that actually wanting to die. Then again, he'd never picture Eduardo wanting to do that either and yet there they were, sitting together in the Other World for the souls who'd given up.
Eduardo ordered them both beers and a bowl of mini-pretzels. He nibbled at the pretzels, glancing over at Stella every other minute to make sure she was okay. Apparently, he still had the instinct to care for everyone like he was their mother.
He stuffed another pretzel in his mouth and started fiddling with the coaster. "Did Christy say how long she's been here?" He asked quietly.
Mark looked up at him in confusion, but Eduardo had his eyes set on the bar-top.
"She said a few years."
Eduardo gave a pensive nod. "Do you think- I should have done something, right? I mean, she was never mentally stable. What if she needed help and that entire time I just- "
Mark scoffed. "You're seriously blaming yourself because your ex-girlfriend committed suicide? She could have done it months after you broke up. Christy was crazy, she probably did it because her boots got dirty, or whatever it is girls freak out about," Mark said. "Only she freaked out a little worse."
Eduardo shook his head, still not looking at Mark. "She always had an affinity for fire and I ignored it. You saw the burns on her face. She burned herself to death!"
Mark rolled his eyes.
"I just wish I knew why," Eduardo told him as the bartender arrived with their drinks.
"It's probably something completely different than you think it is. When we found out you were gone, Chris and I both thought it was partly our faults," Mark said. Eduardo's head whipped around to face him. He looked scandalized by that assumption.
"It wasn't, I promise," He reassured Mark quickly. "It had nothing to do with you. It was- " He cut himself off, taking a sip of his beer. "It didn't cause too much trouble for you guys, did it? I never wanted that."
"Only you would feel guilty about the effect your suicide would have on others," Mark said with amusement.
Eduardo relaxed at Mark's playful tone. "Was it bad? The effect of my- of what happened, I mean." Mark thought about it. When he opened his mouth to speak, Eduardo interrupted him.
"Wait, no! Don't tell me. I don't wanna know."
"Okay," said Mark.
Eduardo's Adam's apple bobbed up and down with a gulp. His brown eyes looked vulnerable. He looked like he wanted to trust, but he was afraid to go all in. And that was probably weird for him, because that was who Eduardo was, either all in or not at all.
Mark wondered if he should ask questions. Maybe it was a push and pull sort of thing. Maybe Eduardo wanted Mark to want to know. He had no idea how to go about it. If he asked the wrong question he might insult Eduardo, and the walls would go right back up. It was impossible to keep up with Eduardo's frenzied heart. He was as unpredictable as the weather. He would have loved that, Mark thought.
"I'm glad we're ... " Wardo trailed off.
"Co-operating," Mark supplied.
Eduardo gave him an entertained look. "Sure. Co-operating." He took another small sip of beer, considering Mark like he was trying to analyze him. "It doesn't have to be difficult between us. I know I don't want it to be."
"Me neither," Mark agreed.
Eduardo was satisfied with that. "Then we're okay. Or we can try to be." He paused. "Arguing with you is such a waste of time. You've heard it all before and you didn't care then, so I'm gonna stop trying to make you care now."
That made Mark feel uncomfortable. It wasn't that he didn't care. He cared more than he'd ever cared about anyone. But Eduardo was wrong, and he couldn't blame Mark for that. He cared, and he hated that Eduardo thought he didn't.
"We're good." Eduardo's voice had a tone of finality to it. He looked pleased. Mark didn't understand why. Nothing was resolved, everything felt complicated, and his heart still hurt for some a million reasons. But Eduardo looked hopeful, and he needed this. He hadn't won one in a while, that much was obvious. He needed something to keep him sane, and if Mark had to play along with his denial for that, than so be it.
---
There was a moment during the night. Eduardo had suggested they play a game of pool while Stella did whatever the hell she was doing with the random guys. They had started to walk over to the pool table, and Eduardo reached out to put his arm on Mark's back. He realized what he was doing, and pulled away quickly, almost like a flinch.
It was small, but Mark saw it all from the corner of his eye. It hurt, but then again, everything hurt these days. That was the price of being around Eduardo.
"Didn't anybody try to stop you from coding?" Eduardo asked, during their game. He gave one of the balls a sleek push from his pool cue, watching it roll in effortlessly into the pocket.
"When?"
"When you died."
Mark nodded. "Holly, Dustin, Sean, my mom, Chris."
Eduardo raised an impressed eyebrow. "And no one got you off?"
Mark shrugged.
Eduardo rolled his eyes. "You shouldn't have been coding for that long. Some one should have been there for you." He angled himself to take another shot.
Mark took a tentative step closer, contemplating Eduardo curiously.
"I mean, no one should die alone," Eduardo said. He missed the pocket by an inch and handed the cue to Mark.
"You did," Mark said.
Eduardo focused on a spot on the floor. "That's different." He glanced up with a strange look in his eyes. It was a mixture of lonely, sad, and trying to hide it all behind a facade of indifference. "I chose to be alone."
"Why?" Mark asked.
"Why what?"
"Why did you choose that?"
Eduardo gave him an understanding look. "You mean why did I choose to … kill myself?"
Mark shrugged. It was all the same to him.
Eduardo sighed. He rubbed his hand through his hair. Mark could practically see the frown lines on his face getting more and more defined with every passing day. "Okay," said Eduardo. "We're gonna need more alcohol for this conversation."
They ordered five shots of tequila. Eduardo drank four of them, shaking his head at the taste, after each one.
He took a deep breath that made his chest rise and fall, then slammed his hand down on the table decisively. "Alright. Let's do this," He nodded. He gave Mark a slightly tipsy look, and Mark could feel all of Wardo's attention being focused on him. It made him feel extremely anxious.
"What do you want to know?" Eduardo asked. His face was so open and honest, so close to the old Eduardo, that Mark was actually frightened. New, insecure, closed-off Eduardo he could handle. At least that Eduardo was closer to Mark's personality. He made sense. Real, living Eduardo, however, was always an anomaly to Mark. That was always why things got so messed up between them, because somewhere along the way one of them would stop understanding the other, and then everything would get lost in translation and before they knew it they were standing in hallways yelling at each other about getting left behind.
"Just why," Mark told him.
Eduardo gave him a firm nod. It looked to him like this wasn't a conversation about his suicide. To him it was just another casual part of his existence that he had to get through. He could have been talking about what he did last summer from the way he was dealing with this.
"Business," Eduardo said. "It wasn't going well. A few of my investments got a little ... " He trailed off. "It was just a lot of stress. I didn't want to deal with it anymore, so I just - didn't."
That was the dumbest thing Mark had ever heard, and Mark used to get daily memos from Dustin about the status of his new pet iguana. ("All billionaire's need obscure pets," was Dustin's reasoning for that little adventure).
"You were stressed out," Mark repeated. Eduardo gave him a confirming nod. "That's it?"
Wardo frowned. "What do you mean that's it?"
"You've put up with more than stress before. I was expecting something a little exciting like - I don't know - somebody breaking your heart? Or maybe your father?"
Eduardo shrunk upon himself a little, then sat up straighter and gave Mark a stony look. "I'm sorry my sui- my death wasn't dramatic enough for your tastes. I'll try be more creative next time," He said dryly.
"No, that's not- "
"Forget it," Eduardo dismissed. "I don't even want to talk about this, okay? Let's just put it in our bank of neglected issues and pretend we're actually having fun again."
Mark looked down guiltily. Eduardo watched him. His eyes softened. He closed them as if he was berating himself, and leaned forward with a pained expression.
"I'm sorry," He said.
Mark looked up in surprise.
"I am having fun. I didn't mean that, I just- " He sighed. "I don't know, I guess I've forgotten how to put my walls down without getting offended by everything." His eyes were smiling half-heartedly.
"In that case, don't take this the wrong way, but I hate it when you apologize for stupid things that aren't really your fault," Mark said honestly. "Like right now."
Eduardo gave him a puzzled look. "When did you get so good at making me feel better?"
Of course something like that would make him feel better. Only Eduardo.
"Must be a fluke."
And then the sparkle was back in Wardo's eyes. The one that told Mark he was smiling. It was definitely a crime that that look didn't have a permanent place on Wardo's facial features.
"Yeah, I guess it is," Eduardo said softly. "One more round?"
Mark nodded. "One more round."
---
(Before)
---
Mark thought a lot about the last words he ever said to Wardo.
There's really no reason for you to be here.
In hindsight, that was probably the wrong thing to say. Mark always said the wrong thing. And the worst part was he thought he'd actually helped Wardo, instead he was probably the deciding factor. Mark didn't know much about depression, but he assumed that if some one was depressed those were the kind of words that would push them to kill themselves.
Mark had pushed Eduardo to do it. Accidentally, of course, but now Eduardo was dead and the last thing Mark had ever said to him was that there was no reason for him to even exist. At least that's how Eduardo had heard it.
Mark felt sick. He typed a little faster and a little harder, and he ignored the sound of his heart racing. His finger slipped on one of the keys, which Mark realized was wet. Why were his keys wet? And then he realized it wasn't only his keys, but his cheeks too. Oh, right. Tears. He was crying.
The last time he'd cried he was ten and he'd fallen off his bike.
This felt a lot worse than falling off a bike.
There's really no reason for you to be here.
Mark took a breath to calm himself, and wiped the tears with his sleeve, then dived right back into the code again, blanking his mind of everything and everyone else in the world.
---
(After)
---
His dream was weird this time. Not that the other ones weren't, but they were usually nice. They usually involved a lot of pointless grinning and big, brown eyes full of ... that look.
This one was more of a nightmare; Instead of smiles and looks Mark got hurt and anger.
They were in Palo Alto, in that dreadful, haunting hallway. Eduardo was dripping wet, and the yellow light was too bright in Mark's eyes, and Eduardo's skin was slightly glowing from a combination of the two. He was standing there, yelling. He was waving his arms frantically around the air, screaming words at Mark. Except Mark couldn't hear any of it. It was as if some one had just hit the mute button on Eduardo.
And he looked so disappointed. It was the sort of look that made Mark want to throw himself into code and hide there for as long as possible.
It felt distressing and just too real.
Eduardo kept shouting words with no sound. He looked at Mark expectantly. He waited for Mark to say something, anything. Mark tried, but his mouth wouldn't open.
Eduardo closed his eyes holding back tears. He ran a hand through his damp hair and let his shoulders drop.
He was giving up. He was giving up on Mark, and on Facebook, and he was going back to New York and from here on out it would all just be a slow burn until the end; Until they weren't even themselves anymore. The laptop would smash, and he'd be told to lawyer up, asshole! And that would be the end of it.
Mark couldn't let that happen again. He tried to say something. He screamed out, called Eduardo's name. He begged him to stay, to listen. Just listen.
And then Eduardo turned to face him with a cold expression. He opened his mouth and spoke loud and clear. "How do you expect me to listen if you don't?" He asked.
Mark didn't have an answer for him.
Eduardo seemed to expect that. He gave Mark one last wistful look, before walking back out into the rain.
Mark shot awake with clammy hands, and sweat dripping down his temple.
He couldn't sleep after that. He tried closing his eyes again, but every time he did he just saw that heartbroken look on Eduardo's face. He saw Eduardo leave, and he didn't think he could take that image on repeat, so he did his best to avoid it.
He hated this world. Hated what it was doing to him. He'd already died of exhaustion; There was no need for seconds. He hated what it did to Eduardo, forcing him to keep a smile-less face. He hated that there was no weather, and no stars, and no working laptops and coffee machines. He hated that everyone had to wear the scars of their suicide.
Most of all he hated that the damn PIC had put him here with only one complicated way out.
Mark sighed, rolling over in his bed to face Eduardo. Eduardo was sleeping like he always did in the Other World, crouched in on himself like a frightened child. His face was more relaxed than usual tonight, but it made little difference as a whole. He didn't deserve this.
"I listen to you," Mark said, quietly. He'd read somewhere that when you talked to comatose patients, they sometimes heard you subconsciously. He doubted it worked the same for sleeping people, but it felt important to let Eduardo know anyway.
"I know it seems like I never payed attention, but there's tons of pointless crap about you that I remember." He pulled the covers away from Stella, using them to shield everything but his face. He was too vulnerable like this, he needed to hide, even if it was behind a crappy motel comforter.
"You're allergic to shellfish," Mark said. "And you like the M&M's with the peanuts in them even though everyone else in the world prefers the others."
Eduardo brought his chin closer to his chest.
"You use too much hair gel, but that's not hard to notice. Sometimes I'd find some on my pillow, after you slept in my bed, in Kirkland."
Eduardo shifted again. Mark didn't say anything in case he had woken up. He only relaxed again once a soft snore came from the Brazilian, confirming that the coast was clear.
"I know you're lying about why you killed yourself," He said. He looked to Eduardo, hoping that somehow he'd beat the odds and just hear him. "I wish you'd just tell me. I - I want to understand."
Mark felt his eyelids getting heavy again. He fought off sleep for as long as he could, afraid of what he might see if he closed his eyes.
"You don't have to be so guarded," He told Eduardo with a yawn, and gave in to slumber.
---
"Have you noticed that they only ever play bands with people who committed suicide in them?" Stella asked, turning down the radio that was currently blaring Nirvana.
"That's not surprising whatsoever," Eduardo said from behind the wheel. He'd been acting more like his old self lately, and the change was noticeable. He'd stopped letting Stella eat only junk food, and actually forced some real meals on her. He asked Mark if he'd slept enough every morning. He offered to drive for them. He actually made conversation. He even managed to play a game of I Spy and enjoy it regardless of the lack of things to actually spy in the Other World.
He was still reserved, that hadn't changed, but sometimes he couldn't help but let the old Eduardo bleed out. He'd just say something so earnest, and sincere, so typically Eduardo, that Mark would forget he made the conscious decision to end his life once.
And he never touched anyone. That was the only thing that never changed. He didn't want to touch others and he didn't want others touching him. He was acting like Mark, and Mark found it baffling. It wasn't right when Eduardo acted withdrawn, like him.
"You know who I miss? Beyonce. She made some good tunes," Stella said.
"Yeah, well, music is great and all that but if we're gonna talk about what we miss, I really want to reinforce the whole working coffee machine thing," Eduardo said.
"And laptops," Mark added.
"And laptops," agreed Eduardo.
Stella slumped in her seat. "God, you two would make, like, the worst cavemen ever."
Eduardo gave her a teasing look. It almost looked like a smirk, but his mouth couldn't quite get there.
He pulled up to a gas station, and went to fill up the tank. Mark offered to do it, but he was forbidden at this point. Eduardo was being all considerate and Eduardo-ish and practically demanded that they stay in the car while he payed and got them more (healthy) snacks.
Once he was gone, Stella turned around, grabbing the sides of her seat like a bird on a perch. "Does Eduardo seem different to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"He seems chirpier. I don't know what it is, but it's nice."
Mark nodded absently.
"He always looks at you, y'know."
Mark gave her a perplexed look.
"In the rear-view, or just when you're distracted by something else," Stella explained. She turned to face the front again and watched as Eduardo had a polite conversation with the cashier.
"It's funny," She noted. "You guys are always watching each other, but never at the same time."
"I don't watch him," Mark protested.
"And I'm secretly dude," She shot back, sarcastically.
Eduardo chose that moment to step back into the car. He threw a bag of food to Mark with an affectionate look.
"I got you some Twizzlers for the ride," He said, starting up the car again.
Stella looked over her shoulder and gave Mark a knowing wink before opening yet another bottle of nail varnish and changing the colour or her nails from black to green.
---
They drove for half an hour without incident. And then Mark ordered Eduardo to stop the car.
"Why? Are you okay?" Eduardo had asked, concern dripping from his voice.
"Just stop the car and come look at this!" Mark exclaimed excitedly.
Eduardo hit the breaks, causing Stella's nail varnish to go flying down the black-hole under the passenger seat, never to be seen again.
"What is it?" Eduardo asked once they were stopped, while Stella swore at the both of them.
Mark gave him a look of bright eyed excitement. "The laptop's working."
"What?"
"While you were driving I switched it on to see if I could fix it again and it was just - working. It's as if nothing had ever been wrong with it."
"That's impossible. Nothing works here," Eduardo said.
Stella's eyes widened. "Yes they do," She said. She watched the laptop on Mark's lap, like it was made of gold. "In the miracle spots."
It finally sunk in. After a week of driving they'd finally found one. Now they just needed to hope there'd be a PIC around.
Still. They were one step closer. Mark was on his way. He might be able to go home!
Eduardo gave him this optimistic look like he was reading Mark's mind. They were gonna do it. Mark was gonna get out. The way Eduardo was looking at him right now, there was no way this could fail. Nobody could be this hopeful about something that could fail.
"What now?" Eduardo asked. There was a heavy silence in the car. It was an A million dollars isn't cool, you know what's cool? A billion dollars! kind of silence.
Stella looked from Mark to Eduardo and back. If she could, it was obvious she'd be giving them both a cheeky grin right now.
"Now, we find some People in Charge, bitches!" She said. She made the universal raise the roof gesture for no apparent reason, and pushed Eduardo back to face the road.
"Step on it, Wardo. Zuck's going home!" Mark didn't even find the nickname annoying.
"Mark's going home!" Eduardo shouted back with excitement.
This was one of those rare occasions where Mark wanted to smile. The look in Eduardo's eyes made up for the fact that he couldn't.
---
Mark spent the next hour lost in code. Anyone who knew him knew he lived and breathed code, but it had never occurred to him just how much it meant to him. It had been almost a month, and he was surprised he wasn't suffering from withdrawal symptoms.
The feeling he got when he wired in again was impossible to describe. He'd never been so passionate about something. He coded lines that he planned to add to Facebook later. He coded lines that were just for the sake of coding something. It didn't matter, he just didn't want to stop. He'd missed this more than he'd missed anything. Nothing would compare to the feeling he got when he had his fingers flying on the keyboard.
(He pretended not to notice Eduardo glancing up at him in the mirror every other minute with that dumb look of joy on his face. It wasn't anything. He always looks at you, y'know, echoed in Mark's head, only making him type faster. He convinced himself the only reason his heart raced was because he was frustrated by all the distractions.)
"Oh my God, you guys!" Stella exclaimed suddenly. "We can drive at night!"
Eduardo's eyes brightened. "Good, because I'm not stopping till we find a place that serves coffee."
Stella gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Finally gonna get that decent cup, huh?"
Eduardo gave her that smizing look.
"And Mark's gonna go back to life," He added.
Mark's typing stuttered for a brief moment, then sped up again.
Eduardo shook his head, adoringly. "Aaaand, we've lost him."
How do you expect me to listen if you don't?
Mark stopped typing and look up. "I'm listening," He said firmly. He really needed to do something about these echoes in his head. It was starting to become troublesome.
Eduardo looked amused. "It's alright, Mark. We're only talking about coffee," He assured him. It was assuring, right? Why was he trying to assure him?
Mark felt a tiny panic that maybe Wardo had been listening to him the night before, but swallowed it down. It was fine, he was just being Eduardo. Mark breathed deeply to settle his nerves and went back to his code.
The sky was dark out. Despite the miracle zone, there were still no stars in the sky. Eduardo tried to hide his disappointment once it got dark, but Mark could see it in his eyes. Stella had her head hanging back, pillowed by the edge of the seat. He mouth hung open, and closed every few minutes like a slow-motion fish. She was supposed to be keeping her eyes open for places where coffee was a possibility, but had dozed off just as the sun had started to set.
Mark was still coding, but he wasn't fully wired in. The hum of the car, and Stella's occasional snorts were too distracting.
Eduardo was silent, driving and keeping his eyes peeled for a place to stop. The excitement of driving at night had died down when he realized his sleeping patterns would complicate things. There were bags under his eyes, but he continued to drive anyway.
"You don't have to drive all night," Mark said.
"I want to," Eduardo told him, sluggishly.
Mark nodded, and continued his code. They sat in silence with nothing but the sound of keys for a long time, until eventually Eduardo spoke up.
"What are you even doing on that?"
"Coding."
"Coding what? Facebook doesn't exist down here. Or does it? Did you find some crazy way of getting Facebook into the afterlife?"
"No," Mark told him, matter-of-fact. "I'll just add it all when I get back."
Eduardo went quiet.
Mark typed three lines before he realized the conversation died, and looked up perplexed. "What?"
"What?" Eduardo replied.
"You went all quiet there."
"Yes, that's what happens when there are no words left to say," Eduardo said light-heartedly. Mark sensed more to it though. There was something tense in his voice, and his posture.
"What is it?"
"Nothing, Mark, I swear. Go back to your code."
Mark waited, hoping that maybe if he stared long enough, Eduardo might crack. It had worked before at Harvard, but Eduardo wasn't the same person he was at Harvard. Eduardo didn't trust anyone now. That was a huge inconvenience. And wrong. There was always something about Eduardo that was wrong nowadays.
"B&B!" Eduardo burst out, and pulled over madly. Stella's head was flung into the window with a loud thump, and Mark fell backward, hitting himself int he face with his laptop.
"Ow!" Stella yelped. She wasn't fully awake yet, so she rubbed her eyes tiredly and squinted out the window. "Where are we?"
"I found a bed and breakfast," Eduardo said excitedly and practically sprung out of the car.
Mark saved his work, simultaneously rubbing the spot on his forehead where his laptop hit him, and followed Eduardo out.
Stella was already out of the car, still too dazed to be fully aware of what was going on. "Is he always this excited about coffee?"
"Honestly, he's been excited for less," Mark told her.
She nodded in understanding. "Not recently though, right?"
Mark shared a look with her.
"This is good then," She said. "I hope he gets his coffee, he deserves it." She bumped his shoulder as they walked inside. Eduardo was already at reception arguing with an old man.
"I know it's past dinner time, but all I'm asking for is a cup of coffee," He moaned.
The man raised his hand to stop him. "I'm sorry, boy, but we just don't- "
"Please," Eduardo begged. For a moment there was this hint of something in his voice. It sounded so broken and desperate. He sounded almost as if the coffee was the only thing that actually meant something anymore.
"We don't have a coffee machine," The man said. To his merit, he sounded pretty guilty. "I wish I could help you, but ours got stolen a couple of days ago."
"Days?" Eduardo asked, his voice cracking. He lowered his head to the wooden reception desk in defeat; Then he started lightly hitting it.
"Wardo," Stella said, sadly.
Eduardo straightened up and spun to face them, with a pained expression. "We could have been here days ago, if we just didn't." He let out a long-suffering sigh, and walked out the door without another word.
Stella looked genuinely upset by the whole ordeal, which was basically how Mark felt. He hated this. He hated that his best friend could be so broken up about a cup of coffee. He shared a look with Stella, and followed Eduardo out.
Eduardo was pacing back and forth in front of the B&B, kicking at the dusty ground.
"It's not about the coffee," He muttered once he noticed Mark was there. "I don't care about the stupid coffee, it's just that everything here is so shit! I was hoping that maybe if I just believed, if I just held on to the possibility of one good cup of coffee then - I don't know. I guess I'm just waiting for the part where it gets easier, because I did not … " He bit his lip apprehensively, finally looking up at Mark. His eyes were huge, and on the brink of tears. "I didn't kill myself for this. This is a waste!"
That was the moment Mark realized just how truly damaged Eduardo was. He had no idea what Wardo must have been feeling, but he knew if he'd killed himself only to end up alive again, he wouldn't feel too satisfied either. And here Eduardo was, still striving, still trying too hard to feel some sort of worth, because he couldn't stand the thought that there was no point to him, that he was trapped in the Other World because the universe said so. He always needed approval. He needed a purpose even in his death, and now he didn't have one. He was just ... there.
"Wardo," Mark said helplessly. Eduardo hunched in on himself, staring at the ground self-consciously.
"I know, it's just coffee," Eduardo said quietly. "My life was supposed to end, and instead I get a second chance minus the weather, the smiles, and the fucking coffee."
Mark didn't know what to say. He wished he was better at comforting people, but that had never been his job. His friends weren't idiots, if they wanted to be comforted Mark wasn't the guy they went to for that. He didn't do touchey-feely, and he didn't do soothing words, mostly because he didn't have them. He knew the standard was it's gonna be okay and you'll be alright but Mark wasn't gonna be some cliche comforting robot. This was Eduardo. He deserved more than that.
"Wardo-licious," Stella sing-songed from behind him. She walked out of the house towards Eduardo with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You are gonna want to kiss me after I tell you what the nice man inside told me."
Eduardo gave her a defeated look.
"Cheer up, matey!" She said in a terrible pirate voice. Mark grimaced.
"According to the owner of this lovely establishment, the coffee-machine was stolen by a - wait for it - cult, staying in a - wait for it - campsite." She looked at Mark, happily. "Eugene said our best bet was a cult, right? Two birds, one stone! Have you ever heard so many good things packed into one ordinary-sized sentence?"
Mark caught Eduardo's eye, and just like that, the hope was back. The little sparkle that there was something left for him even if he was stuck in the Other World for the rest of eternity. And the tiny memory of a lecture a few years back. And bathroom stalls, and blowjobs from all the wrong people. Eduardo took a calming breath, not once tearing his eyes away from Mark.
"Where is it?"
"About a mile up," Stella said.
Eduardo nodded, still keeping his eyes locked on Mark. "Let's go," he said quietly.
Stella jumped up eagerly and dashed to the car.
Mark stepped forward and stood next to Eduardo, observing him expectantly. Eduardo gave him a confusing look. "Thank you. For trying to help."
"I didn't say anything," Mark said.
Eduardo flushed slightly, and looked back to the ground for the third time that night. "You don't always have to."
He gave Mark a pat on the shoulder and walked back to the car.
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Part 5