Jonathan growled and slumped in his chair, then rubbed his face with his hands. It was damn late and his eyes were tired, but everyone insisted on finishing the campaign today. It wasn't like he wasn't having a good time, he was just…
"And thanks to the great dedication of Elred Morsys, The Misty Wilderness of Kisdar became a safe place, and the roadway allowed food to be transported to the village you were in. The villagers never forgot the warrior who wanted to help them so much that he sacrificed his life in battle, that's why the surrounding forest was called Elred's Forest from that day, in his honor. Glory to the heroes!"
William waved his hands and bowed, and Jane applauded cheerfully.
"It was a really, like reeeeaaaally good campaign, my dude," Argyle said, smiling. The younger Byers seemed genuinely pleased with this. He smiled even wider than he did, but then his gaze shifted to his older brother.
"You didn't like it?"
Jonathan's heart trembled.
"Not!" Then he slapped his hand on his forehead. "I mean… I liked it, I really did! I just… died again… and in a week I'll be doing a new character again," he explained hastily, a bit confused by it all. Another forest named after him. He already had several of them in his collection. He even had a memorial plaque in Amn, although he didn't do much of a thing and had tortured numerous Amnians before. On the contrary, wanting to save everyone, he cast a fireball spell and threw a critical one. It should have ended in a tragedy. But that somehow helped his team more than if he had hit.
"Then stop sacrificing yourself, you silly," replied Jane. "You always help us all, and that's why you die. Next time, do someone chaotically evil."
He smiled awkwardly.
"Do you really see me as chaotically evil?"
"Honestly, there is something dark about you," Argyle admitted. "But it doesn't matter, you just need to feel into the character, not to play as yourself. I play a sexy berserker babe and look at me…" There was a part of Jonathan that wanted to tell him, that he kinda looked like sexy berserker babe, but he couldn't. Not in the presence of his younger siblings.
"Cool for me, if you hadn't been complaining, this wouldn't be a real Byers family campaign."
Jonathan frowned.
"You get more sarcastic every year," he replied.
"I inherited our mum's beauty, and I inherited your clothes, musical taste and rude comments."
"Fair."
"Can you help me pick everything up?" Will turned to Jane and they both began packing the figures and the board into boxes. Jonathan turned to his friend.
"Wanna smoke?" He asked. "You're staying with us for the night, right?"
"Yeah," he replied shortly, and got to his feet at once. Then he grimaced and stretched. "How much have we been sitting here?"
"A couple of hours… Five? Subtracting the pizza break."
"My back hates me for that." He said. But he complained no more about it. Argyle often shared some really crazy thoughts and would often comment on the sad parts of his life as if they were perfectly normal, but rarely complained about anything.
The nights in California were beautiful. Jonathan loved staring at the starry sky. He loved the gentle, cool breeze that beat against his face. But what he liked most was the atmosphere that he could not name, but which he associated with this place. It was completely different from Hawkins. As if he was looking at the world through a filter.
"Hey, I never asked after all. You have this funny dolphin-shaped scar, where did it come from?"
Jonathan hesitated, but finally replied:
"When I was six," he puffed on his cigarette, "my drunken father threw me against cupboard."
Argyle froze. He looked away from him and was silent for a few more minutes until they came back inside.
"Jonathan?"
"Mhm?"
"Are you sleeping?"
"Mm-hm."
"Can I ask you something?"
Jonathan answered him with a long, silent minute, so Argyle thought he should put it off until tomorrow, but his friend spoke up after he sighed.
"Yes."
"What's between us?"
He didn't know what to say. He shifted on the bed, took a deep breath.
"I do not know."
"You like me?"
"Yes."
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
"Then why do you rarely say anything about yourself?" When Jonathan fell silent again, he continued: "I mean… It's like you're living your life inside."
"I guess I just don't know how to do it differently."
"What do ya mean?"
"I mean… Before we moved to Lenora, I barely spoke to anyone."
"So it's not like… like you don't want to talk about anything, just you don't know how?"
"Uhh… yea?"
"Okay." After a few seconds, he added: "Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
"Jonathan?"
"Mhm?"
"Can I ask you something else?"
"Mhm."
"Why did you move to Lenora?"
"Uhh…"
"You do not have to answer."
"I can't tell you everything."
"Okay."
"But I can tell you a bit."
"Okay."
"My mom didn't want to live in Hawkins anymore because it didn't work out for her there. Our father left her. And then Will went missing. And then her boyfriend died. And then the other boyfriend died too…" Jonathan sighed.
"Wow."
"Yeah."
"And you wanted to leave?"
"I do not know." After a while, he added, "Yes… because I didn't like living there. No, because I liked Nancy."
"Ah, your girlfriend."
"Now I think of her more as a friend."
"She probably thinks so about you too."
Jonathan chuckled.
"I don't know if you're laughing or crying because it's so dark that I can't see my hand in front of my face."
"I laughed."
"Okay. Well then… Good night."
"Good night."
"Jonathan?"
"Mhm?"
"Can I…"
"Yes, Argyle. You can."
"It was Elred Morsys who saved Kisdar or Jonathan Byers?"
"Both."
"So you wanted to sacrifice."
"Not necessarily. But I didn't see another option."
"Mhm."
"If I hadn't sacrificed, these children would have starved to death."
"Mhm."
"They were hungry orphans."
"Mhm."
"You wanted to leave them?"
"You know, my character probably eats such babies. I was playing that hobgoblin or orc or something."
"Fuck, indeed."
"And it's not like real orphans are dying. It's just a story you make. And it doesn't have to be perfect."
"Something in me wanted it to be perfect."
"Mhm."
"Goodnight?"
"Goodnight."
"Jonat-"
"Yes, Argyle. You can."
"I didn't want to ask a question."
"Oh."
"I wanted to say that next time I will save you. And when I die, I'll make myself a new character. And if I don't die, I'll be hitting you with my hot, big barbarian mommy."
"…"
"You know you don't have to sacrifice yourself all the time for everyone?"
"…"
"I get the feeling you do it so often that others are used to it, man."
"Maybe."
"I'd like to see your face when you can't be a hero that one time."
"I would probably look like always."
"Like this?"
"I can't see anything, it's dark."
"Then come closer."
He approached him and saw the faint outline of his face bathed in light from behind the curtain. Nothing else. But he could feel him. Jonathan could feel his warm breath and… Argyle smelled like cigarettes.
"I…"
"You can't see anything, I know. I said, I can't even see a hand in front of my face."
"Uh."
"But I can picture you. That pissed off look."
"I'm not pissed."
"But you look a bit like that. You're frowning. And when your hair is sticky, you look like that big guinea pig. You're so rough then. I think they're called carbonara."
"Capybara?"
"Maybe."
"Oh gawd…"
"It was supposed to be a compliment, bro."
"Thanks, Argyle."
"I feel you are really close."
"Sorry," he replied quickly and tried to pull away, but Argyle grabbed his arm. His touch was gentle, as if he wanted to ask permission rather than do it. Jonathan felt a wave of heat flood his body. He didn't do anything, didn't move. He let his friend's hand fall over his back.
And then it grew awkwardly quiet.
"…goodnight?"
"Goodnight."
It was so little. Hand thrown over his side, hand resting on his back. And then he remembered nothing.
When Will entered Jonathans room this morning, he didn't have courage to speak. He had been calling his brother for a good few minutes, but as soon as he was inside, he understood. Snuggled up against Argyle, tangled in his hair, Jonathan was asleep and looked as peaceful as ever.