Peter Kowalski sits with his hands shoved into his overcoat pockets, staring out at the cloudy skies just as they open up and start to cry freshwater tears.
The coffee he ordered didn't serve to warm him up. Nothing can touch the awful cold, gnawing and worrying at his fingers. He's sure that the cold rain will soon turn to snow anyway. So instead of moving inside, like the rest of the cafe's customers, he rolls his head back and feels the rain mingle with his own tears, sliding down his cheeks and making him shiver.
What have I done?
He helped Jimmy Hopkins rid the only happiness from his life.
He helped his own demise overcome him.
He's surrendering.
Please let this stop.
In the clouds, all he can see is Gary's face. The scar, the greyish blue eyes, the grin. And every single details serves to deal one more blow to his already breaking heart. It's like real pain now, fracturing inside his chest and threatening to tear him apart. He can't face this. Not so soon.
The fight in the clock tower was only a few days ago.
He can remember Jimmy telling him the news.
"Hey, Petey, guess what? No more Gary! No more raging psychopath! Great news, huh? I beat him down, and now he's gone! Isn't that great?"
Petey masochistically plays it over and over in his head, the time when he first felt the now familiar pain ripping through his ribcage. He never thought it would come to this. He didn't think that Gary could be overcome like that.
His hands hang at his sides, eyes closed. He can't do anything to stop this. What he's done is cruelly circling his mind like a hurricane.
He's got to forgive himself.
But he can't.
He's got to face himself, let his own mercy wash over him and fade away the pain. He wishes he had the strength to let go, but he can't.
He can't.
He still remembers Gary's face when they dragged him away.
"Petey!"
Petey tries to shield himself from this pain, this agony, but it's too late.
He's already dying.