Disclaimer: Funnily enough, I think you can guess that 'This Is England' isn't mine. It does, in fact, belong to Shane Meadows, and every single person needs to see it before they die.
It's quiet.
It's quiet enough that Shaun can hear the tick of the hospital clock on the opposite wall, hear every hitch in Combo's breathing as they sit together on hard, orange plastic chairs. Neither moves. Neither looks up, still staring at the scuffed, marked floor. But then a noise starts to build. It's distant at first, and Shaun wonders what it could be. But then he realises – as it gets closer, he understands what's making the sounds. It's the sound of Doc Marten boots, the sound of shouting, the sound of human grief. He can't help but look up when the double doors swing open, body tense.
It's Woody and the rest of them, Woody leading them all, Lol close behind him. They all coast to a stop, gasping for breath. And then Woody speaks.
"You." He says, voice low. And before anybody can stop him, he's lunged for Combo – but he doesn't hit him, not yet. Instead he grabs him by the collar and, despite his slighter build and weight, he manages to wrestle him up against the wall, face puce. The prospect of yet more violence is almost more than Shaun can take, and he has to turn away with his hands over his ears.
"It's alright, love," Lol murmurs soothingly, dropping down to his level and gently pulling his hands away, wrapping him in a tight embrace that smells of cigarettes and Woody's flat. It's the first comfort he's received all night and he can't help but cry again, dampening the fabric of Lol's Fred Perry jacket with his tears.
"You fuckin' bastard!" Woody snarls, and it's worse than if he'd screamed it. "What t'fuck, Combo?"
There is only silence.
"Answer me!" Woody shrieks, and he raises a fist.
"Woody!" Lol snaps, glaring at him. She widens her eyes and looks pointedly down at Shaun, who by now is clinging to her with almost manic ferocity. "Don't. Not now."
With that, Woody reluctantly lets Combo go, though points a finger dramatically.
"I am not through with you."
And then he's gone, stalking off down the corridor on long legs to search for the room where Milky lies.
"Lol..." Combo starts to speak. Her head snaps round so fast Shaun can almost hear her neck crack.
"No." She growls darkly. "I have nothing to say to you, Combo. Nothing."
Shaun hears Combo's footsteps grow fainter, and then the doors swing open and shut. When he looks up, Combo has vanished.
"He didn't hurt you, did he Shaun?" Lol asks, her own eyes damp under her dark brown fringe as she looks him over.
"No." Shaun says, looking around to see who else is there. Kelly, Kes and Trev are standing together against the wall, faces pale and worried, the girls tearful. Pukey is pacing in front of them, hands folded behind his head, chewing his lip. There's no sign of Smell or Gadget, or Meggie and Banjo – although, now that Shaun thinks about it, there's probably a good likeliness that the latter is in this very hospital somewhere. "No, he didn't."
"Good." Lol says, inelegantly dragging the back of her hand under her nose. She sniffs. "Yeah, good."
The corridor falls back into silence again. The clock ticks. Shaun can almost feel every second. An hour passes. It's already half past four in the morning – how can that be, when time is moving so slowly? The others continue to wait with him, sometimes moving around, sometimes holding a hushed conversation. Kelly falls asleep with her head in Pukey's lap, make-up streaked around her eyes. Kes and Trev go home, promising to be back as soon as it's light. Soon Pukey is sleeping too, and Lol turns to Shaun, mouth set in a grim line.
"Do you want to go see Milky?"
Shaun is taken aback. Does he? Does he really want to see what Combo did – what he feels is his fault?
"I'm goin' anyway, kid," Lol shrugs, standing up from where she'd been sitting cross-legged on the floor. "So you can come or you can stay."
"I'll come." Shaun says quickly – his guilt could crush him, but he does not want to be left alone with his thoughts. Lol smiles sadly and slips her hand into his, and both of them walk down the corridor, boots heavy on the linoleum.
Under the direction of a beautiful, black nurse – Shaun looks at her and is reminded of Milky, reminded of Combo, so he has to stare above her head – they find their way to Milky's hospital room. Woody is sitting there alone – Milky's family have been and gone, various members trailing in and out before the flow eventually stopped, all of this before Woody even arrived with the others.
"Alright, little man," Woody sniffs as they enter, Lol closing the door behind them. "'Ow do?"
Shaun shrugs, almost afraid to breathe.
Don't look at his face, Combo had told him. Don't look at his face. Don't look.
And now Shaun can't help but look. Milky's face is a network of bruising and lacerations, swelling and stitches, half obscured by an oxygen mask. He's hooked up to so many wires that he looks like some form of robot.
"Come over, then," Woody prompts. Lol has already migrated to his side, falling onto his knee, her freckled arms looped around his neck, shaved head to shaved head. They make the picture of comfort, of reassurance, and Shaun wants nothing more – but he doesn't feel it's his place to encroach on their private moments with Milky.
"I don't..." Shaun starts. "Like, I dunno if I should come over."
"Don't talk daft, Shaun," Woody says. "Come over 'ere."
And though the fear eats at his insides, though he can barely move, Shaun shuffles over. Woody squeezes his hand as he passes, and Shaun places both of his hands, clammy and hot, on the bedrail.
"Alright, Milk," he says, feeling stupid. His stomach churns and his lip trembles, but Woody reaches out and places a cool hand on his shoulder, and he feels slightly better, enough to continue talking. "I'm... I'm really sorry." Shaun says. Tears trickle down his cheek and he roughly wipes them away with a balled fist. "Milk?"
"He's... He's still unconscious, son," Woody says softly. "Keep talking, though, mate. He'll maybe hear you."
"I'm really sorry, Milky," Shaun sobs out. And then he can't talk anymore. His throat is closing, his mouth is dry, and big, salty tears streak unchecked to the floor.
Lol turns to Woody, corners of her mouth turned down.
"It's too much for him, Wood," she says quietly. "I'll take him home to Cynthia. He's only a kid, he should be fast asleep, not dealing with this."
Woody nods and waits till Lol is standing, then gets up himself.
"Shaun, little man," he says, voice husky. Shaun looks up at him, still sobbing. "C'mere."
They hug; Shaun's arms reach up around Woody's neck, and for a moment, everything feels alright. Then they break apart, and everything seems worse all over.
"When he wakes up, Wood," Shaun starts, refusing to say if. "When he wakes up, will you tell him I was here? I don't want him to think I hate him like Combo does."
Woody nods, rubbing Shaun's head affectionately, lips trembling.
"I'll tell 'im."
Lol kisses Woody before taking Shaun in hand, squeezing past the same nurse from earlier, who is coming in to check on Milky's situation, on their way out of the door. They walk together down the corridor, passing a still sleeping Kelly and Pukey, passing endless other people going through much worse than they are. And yet it doesn't instill any sympathy in Shaun's heart. All he can think about is how bad everything is, how his summer has ended on the most catastrophic of notes. He closes his eyes and sees Milky unconscious in the flat, Combo sobbing on his knees next to him.
"I didn't mean it! I didn't mean it..."
It's too late for that now, Shaun thinks. It's been done. And it's ruined everything.
They break out into the lavender dark of the pre-dawn, and Combo – surprisingly – is still there, two empty packets of cigarettes lying by his leg as he sits on the front steps.
"Any news?" He asks. Shaun wishes he could believe that Combo cares.
"He's not waking up any time soon, if that's what you want to know," Lol says haughtily.
"Shaun?" Combo says, voice husky. "You alright?"
Shaun shrugs.
"C'mon, little one, I'll take you home." Combo offers, standing. Lol draws Shaun closer.
"No!" She protests.
"Do you honestly think I'd hurt a kid, Lol?" Combo says, wounded.
"There's no knowing how low you'd fuckin' stoop, mate," Lol says, eyes narrowed to slits, but she lets go of Shaun all the same. As she does, Shaun feels like he's fracturing apart. He doesn't want to go with Combo. He doesn't want to stay here. The feeling of belonging he discovered has gone, and in its place he feels hollow. He feels betrayed, but most of all, he feels like he needs his mother.
"C'n I go home now, Lol?" He asks quietly, sniffing.
"You be careful, you hear me?" She says, dropping to Shaun's level and ensconcing him in yet another embrace, this one tighter. It feels like she's saying goodbye – goodbye for the last time.
"I will. Bye, Lol," Shaun murmurs. Combo puts a hand on his shoulder and steers him towards the car – as he does so, Shaun notices all the little spots of blood on Combo's shirt, and he fights not to retch.
"Shaun!" Lol calls after him, but he's too far away to hear now. She was going to blow him a kiss, she was going to run after him and tell him none of this was his fault.
But she gets the feeling that nothing anybody does can make any difference now.
A/N: So, I'm not really sure either. I wrote this after watching This Is England about three times within 48 hours, absolutely spell-bound, and just thought 'God. That's horrific. What would it be like after that?"
And so, of course, this was born. It's probably God-awful. But it did make me quite sad, even just writing it. I bawled like a baby watching the film, though, so... The film's just filled with so much emotion, so much rawness and intensity and tension, that I hope I've managed to just grab even the tiniest little fraction of it in this fic.
Anyway, I hope you like it (:
Keep on truckin',
Cherry