A Post-Apocalyptic Love Song is set in a Gone series AU. It takes place shortly after the events of lies. In this universe, Sam is a girl, Caine died at the end of Hunger, and Drake never joined with Britney and escaped at the end of Lies. I don't own the Gone series or The Ballad of Love and Hate by The Avett Brothers. Enjoy!
Hate keeps his head up and walks through the street.
Every stranger and drifter he greets.
And shakes hands with every loner he meets
With a serious look on his face.
It had been a bad day for Orc. He'd been a little drunk that afternoon, as usual, and for some reason, he'd been wandering around the dirty, stinking remnants of the town. He didn't know why he did that. It only ever made him feel worse, especially when he saw the little kids digging in the garbage or playing in shit, or when he walked past the graves in the plaza.
So there he'd been, wandering around the town and feeling bad about the little kids and the dead kids and his own sorry self. And a bunch of giggling little kids had walked in front of him. Two boys and a girl. One of the boys kicked him. Hard. He didn't feel it, not physically. But he'd been angry that anyone, even a little kid, would even try to hurt him. There, on the abandoned, cracked road with little weeds growing out of it, he had kicked the boy back.
Everything was blurry and fuzzy, but he remembered screaming. The boy he'd kicked was on the ground, not moving. The other boy was crying, screaming, "It was just a game! We were just playing! I'm sorry!" in between sobs. The girl had run for the hospital, yelling "Lana! Lana! Lana!" Over and over again. All the noise had made Orc's head hurt, and he'd sat down and covered his ears.
Soon, the blurriness and the fuzziness began to fade away. By the time Lana arrived, the guilt was starting to set in. He had looked up hopefully when she came. He and the Healer had always gotten along all right. She had healed him when the zekes attacked. She'd called him Charles.
He watched anxiously as she laid her hands on the boy. She'd had to concentrate hard, but soon, he had begun to stir. Orc approached her hopefully. She'd heard the scraping sound he made whenever he moved and turned around. Her face had been full of disgust and hatred.
"What were you playing at?" she'd said angrily. "What are you doing, wandering around all drunk? You could have killed him, Orc, do you understand? If I hadn't been in the hospital, he would have died!" She was yelling at him by the end.
"I-I-" he had begun to say, trying to apologize, trying to make it right, but she had just turned away in disgust.
So he had stumbled back to the house he shared with Howard to get more booze and drown himself in it until the horrible, hateful look and the kicking and the screams of the kids were all washed away. It was like baptism, being drunk, except the alcohol didn't actually wash away his sins, only the memory of them, and when the alcohol wore off, they were still there.
Howard had insisted that Orc ate some dinner before drinking again. Orc was almost never hungry, but he ate anyway, to make Howard happy. Then he grabbed a full case of beer and left again. He didn't want to see any people, and he especially didn't want to see Howard, with his fake concern and his talk of better days and better futures. Howard didn't care. Nobody did. Nobody could.
Love arrives safely with suitcase in tow.
Carrying with her the good things we know.
A reason to live and a reason to grow.
To trust. To hope. To care.
Howard sat on the bent couch after Orc left, confused and a little bit scared. Since Howard had started keeping track, he noticed Orc's drinking was getting progressively worse. Orc had gone through more alcohol than most of the rest of Perdido Beach put together in the last week. Howard had a sneaking suspicion that Orc didn't just want to get drunk anymore.
Howard knew that Orc wouldn't be able to go on like this. If he kept wondering around while he was drunk, he could hurt or kill someone and get kicked out of town. Or worse, he could drink too much and…Howard shut that thought down violently. He didn't want to think about that.
Why not? asked a tiny voice in the back of his head, forcing Howard to assess the situation coldly, the way he always did. If Orc drank too much one day and…and it killed him, why would it matter?
Howard was smart. Orc was useful to him as protection from the FAYZ's many dangers, but he wasn't absolutely necessary. Howard controlled most of the FAYZ's alcohol and drugs. There were some kids who would do anything for a little of it, including the high and mighty Healer. Howard was the Albert of FAYZ's dark underbelly. He could hire one of Edilio's gunmen to protect him from coyotes and mutants and everything else.
But Orc was…special.
They were friends. Best friends. They'd been together since day one. That's all it was.
No. It wasn't.
You're using him, Howard tried to remind himself. You always have been. He's your big, rocky puppet and you're the master. That's it.
He suddenly felt repulsed by himself. Was that really him? Was that really how he treated people, how he thought about people? How he thought about Orc?
No wonder Orc got drunk so much. Everyone looked at him and saw the big monster boy with gravel skin. No one seemed to remember that he used to be a boy, that he had feelings, just like the rest of them.
But wasn't that the way Howard looked at everybody? He'd joined Orc's gang and bullied other, younger kids to avoid being bullied himself, and he hadn't even felt that bad about it. When the FAYZ began, he had latched onto Orc immediately, and had enabled his alcoholism in exchange for protection. He had wormed his way onto the town council, supported Astrid in her decision to lie about Orsay, and turned on her when the lies were leaked to the others. When the fires had broken out, he had even tried to refuse to let Orc help put them out until the council paid him. He was a manipulator who used others' lives for profit. He always had been.
Howard got up and started walking towards the closet where he kept his alcohol stash. He vainly tried to think of excuses for himself. He'd always cared about Orc, hadn't he? Yes, that was true, if nothing else. He cared about Orc more than anyone else probably ever had. He had always seen that beneath Orc's tough-guy attitude, Orc felt things more deeply than anyone else. During the fires, when everyone else had kept a mostly cool head, Orc had broken. Orc couldn't take the burning and the dead kids. The FAYZ had been harder on him than it had been on anyone. And the worst part was the way Orc could see how others felt about him. They thought he was inhuman, a monster, and Orc agreed. Howard saw this every day.
But what had Howard done? Had he tried to help? Had he told Orc how much he cared about him? Even loved him?
No. He had used Orc for his own needs. He'd only made everything worse.
Howard opened the closet. He had recently found some guy's secret stash in one of the unused houses, so there was plenty in there. Enough to keep him in money for awhile, unless Orc drank it all. Which he might, the way he had been acting.
If Orc drank it all, it could kill him.
Howard stared into the closet. The bottles glinted in the fake moonlight of the FAYZ. Brown, clear, homemade red. Howard had never taken a drink from any color of bottle. He had dealt alcohol to others, but had never had the urge to taste it himself. But now that he'd realized what a manipulative bottom-feeder he really was, and now that he had to deal with the fear of Orc drinking himself to death, he desperately wanted to take a drink.
Howard cautiously extended his hand, feeling like Eve reaching for the apple in Eden. He could do it. He could take a drink, and then another, and another. He could drown out the fear and the shame. He and Orc could spiral into self-destruction together. And who knew? Maybe when they died, they would finally be free of the FAYZ. Maybe Orc would have his real body back. Maybe they could both start over.
Or maybe they would both just die. That wouldn't be so bad either, if they were together.
Howard hesitated for what seemed like a long, long time. Then he pulled his hand away.
People could change. That was one thing the FAYZ had taught everyone; maybe Howard couldn't undo all the damage he had done in his short life; maybe he could never truly change his ways, but maybe, just maybe, he could save Orc.
Howard was smart. He knew that if he went through with this, he would have to go all the way. No profits, no escape clauses. Orc might even kill him for it. But if he could change, if he could save Orc, it would all be worth it.
Charles. If he could save Charles.
Hate sits alone on the hood of his car.
Without much regard to the moon or the stars.
Lazily killing the last of a jar
Of the strongest stuff you can drink.
Orc broke the neck off of another bottle and poured it down his throat. He was sitting on the empty beach, staring off towards the ocean. All alone.
He'd gotten angry at a kid. Just a little kid playing a game.
He was ashamed because those kids had been through enough. Their parents had been taken from them. They had starved. They'd been attacked by coyotes. They'd been forced to do hard labor just for basic necessities. They'd been forced to survive in a world that hated them, just like Orc had when he was a kid. No kid should have to go through that.
He was ashamed because he had acted like the thing everyone thought he was. The angry, drunk, unfeeling monster. The bully. The killer. They were right, all of them. They saw the truth.
He was ashamed because he was turning into his dad. No, worse. His dad may have beaten up an innocent kid, but his dad had never killed anyone. Orc was a killer. He had killed Bette just for using her powers. He had tried to kill Drake. He'd almost killed the kid on the road today.
His feelings, his anger and shame and self-hatred, welled up inside of him. He broke the neck of another bottle and almost threw it down his throat, trying to drown them, to wash them away. It was getting harder and harder to get drunk. He would need more booze soon to keep the feelings at bay.
When he finished the bottle, he threw it away. It hit a rock and shattered. Glass shards fell and buried into the sand. It was broken, just like everything else. He was like Charlie Brown. Everything he touched got ruined.
For some reason, Orc found this hilarious. It was true. Bottles. Furniture. Kids. Everything broke when he hit it with his hard, gravelly, monstrous body. He fell to the ground and laughed and laughed.
Orc didn't want to break things anymore. He didn't want to hurt kids. But monsters didn't get second chances
. He needed more booze. He picked himself up with exaggerated care and lumbered unsteadily towards the house he shared with Howard.
Hate gets home lucky to still be alive.
He screams o'er the sidewalk and into the drive.
The clock in the kitchen says 2:55,
And the clock in the kitchen is slow.
Howard could hear Charles coming towards their broken, beer-and-sweat-soaked house. He had gotten used to the smell, but it was still a disgusting place to live. Not that Charles really noticed most of the time. Hopefully, after tonight, that would change.
Howard was smart. He knew Charles could kill him easily. He knew that there was a good chance that Charles would do just that. Charles would be angry, furious even. Probably still drunk. Howard was counting on Charles being sober enough for Howard to talk him out of killing him. He knew Charles probably wouldn't be able to handle another death on his conscience.
The door began to open. Howard was sweating. His heart was pounding. He steeled himself. There was no going back now.
Orc stepped through the door. Their house was far away from the beach, and he had gotten lost a few times. The alcohol was mostly out of his system. He needed more. He needed to sink into it and drown himself, to escape, hopefully forever.
Howard would give him more. If there was one thing he could count on, it was that Howard didn't care as long as he came out on top. He didn't know why it hurt him so badly that Howard felt that way about him. Thinking about Howard hurt worse than anything else. He stepped into the living room.
"Beer me," said Orc wearily.
"No," said Howard.
Love has been waiting, patient and kind.
Just wanting a phone call or some kind of sign,
That the one that she cares for, who's out of his mind,
Will make it back safe to her arms.
Orc was nonplussed for a second. Then his gravelly face contorted in anger.
"Whaddya mean, no?" he said.
"I mean no, man," said Howard. "There's no more. I threw it out."
"No more?" Orc said slowly. Howard could see Orc slowly realize what that meant. "Get me more," Orc said.
"No," said Howard, growing more confident each time he said the word. Furious, Orc grabbed Howard by the shirt and lifted him up.
"Get me more!" he said desperately. "I need more!"
"I said no," said Howard, gasping. "C'mon, man, put me down. You don't wanna do this."
Orc didn't know what to think. Howard had never refused him anything before. This was a shock to his system. Now he really needed some booze.
"I'll kill you," Orc yelled, painfully aware of how much he sounded like his father. "You know I can!"
"Go ahead, man!" Howard said. To his surprise, he found that his voice was breaking. When was the last time he had cried for someone else's sake? Had he ever before? "Go ahead! Do it! I can't watch this anymore, Orc! I won't let you do this to yourself! You got that?"
Tears streamed down Howard's face. He felt Orc lift him upwards, as if preparing to throw him. He closed his eyes.
It's worth it, he thought. It's worth it if he's safe.
Hate stumbles forward and leans in the door.
Weary head hung, eyes to the floor.
He says "Love, I'm sorry", and she says, "What for?
I'm yours and that's it, Whatever.
I should not have been gone for so long.
I'm yours and that's it, forever."
Orc could barely believe it.
He slowly lowered Howard down. Howard looked shocked, like he couldn't believe that he was still alive.
"I wouldn't kill you, man," said Orc.
"Aw, I knew that," Howard said shakily, trying to reconstruct the cool facade he always wore.
"I just…" Orc said, trailing off. He sat down. "I didn't think you…" He suddenly burst into tears.
"Hey, man, it's okay," said Howard, concerned. Howard knelt next to Orc and awkwardly patted his back. "You don't gotta cry like that, man. I gotcha."
"I just didn't think anyone would ever do that for me, you know?" Orc gulped. "I mean, you coulda died."
"Shh, man, shh. It's okay. It's okay." Howard put his arm around Orc. Orc tenderly put his arms around Howard and held him close. He was careful, and unlike everything else, Howard didn't break.
"I'm not worth it, Howard," said Orc.
"You are," Howard said firmly.
You're mine and that's it, forever.
After a while, Orc passed out. Howard carefully laid a nearby blanket over him. He kissed Orc's forehead. "Good night, Charles," he whispered. Then Howard walked toward the Perdido Beach library to see if he could find any old Alcoholics Anonymous brochures.