Petey walks into his and Gary's communal dorm, dumping his bag on his bed.
Gary's sitting in in corner, shivering, hugging his knees and rocking to and fro. Pete can hear pitiful, defeated sobs rising from his chest and suddenly his heart softens. Suddenly, he doesn't resent Gary for what he's doing, what he's done, what he's going to to do.
Petey knows that if Gary was gone, he would be lost. So scared. So alone.
No one would listen because no one else cared.
Petey had to care to Gary because if he didn't, as much as Gary thought he was self-sufficient, he still needed someone's arms to be around him when he cried, when he woke up at night and cried out in terror, when he felt like the world was crashing to the ground around his ears.
He couldn't stop Gary's fear, but he could be there.
He could sit with him, hugging him, telling him it was all okay, but none of it would help.
He couldn't save Gary from himself.
Petey kneels down beside Gary, and he starts sobbing harder, his shoulders racking with held-back tears and total and utter desperation. Hopeless tears washed down his face and he really needed Pete.
As much as he tried, Petey could never resent Gary. Not for a second.
Gary was like some poor, tortured animal. Wounded, he didn't know how to interract with the others around him, he caused them pain because it was the only thing he knew. No one would ever listen to him.
But instead of Petey putting his arms gently around Gary until he stopped sobbing, stroking his head and telling him everything was okay now, Gary sat up for a second. He wiped the tears from his eyes and hugged Petey, hard. He kissed him all over his face, living, breathing Petey like he was the only thing Gary was certain of right now.
And he was.