[CENTER][img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/0199a223-f589-7609-94ed-37709394b859.webp[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=#696969][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [color=white][I]Liverpool[/I] - [I]England[/I][/color][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=#696969][b]#1.02[/b][/COLOR][/right][/sup][/indent][COLOR=dimgray][SUP][sub]_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sub][/SUP][/COLOR]

[indent][color=#A9A9A9][color=#FFFFFF][i]John was ten, Cheryl fourteen. It was Summer in Liverpool, or at least as much Summer as Liverpool could allow; though warm, the sky was still covered by a pallid shroud of gray clouds, the sun smothered behind them. The Constantine siblings were collecting change - running through the streets, spotting shrapnel on the floor, swiping cash from abandoned tables, rattling for coins in phoneboxes and vending machines, even scooping currency out of fountains. John's pockets clinked melodically with copper and silver scrap as he joked, jostled, teased and cracked wise, no leg unpulled, no wool left without eyes to cover. Every hoodwink would receive an eyeroll from Cheryl, but then she'd turn away and hide her face as she giggled, tittering at John's uncharacteristic rambunctiousness; this was the only audience John cared about, the only performance he was moved to put on. An afternoon to forget their troubles and gallavant about town unfettered, acting every inch the children they were supposed to be.

At a dockside cafe, Cheryl distracted the owner with meandering, protracted questions about the menu and the coffee and pointless childish musings that the recipient was far too polite to halt; meanwhile, John dipped his hand into the tip jar and came up with a fistful of silvers, surreptitiously slipped into his pocket as he picked a table outside. His sister ordered cola and sandwiches, plus one packet of crisps that they shared, littering the insides of their doorstop slices with the bag's contents - and then, when the owner was once again distracted serving another customer, the pair ran, laughing at themselves and each other as the frustrated shouts faded into the distance behind them.

Back to the high street and the duo ducked into a Boots and found a disposable camera. At the tills, John emptied his pockets onto the counter so that Cheryl could dutifully count out the correct amount, pushing the small pile of coins when finished toward the beleaguered cashier and returning what was left to John's trousers. They unwrapped it there and then, leaving the plastic behind before running off with their prize. The pair filled the roll in only a couple short hours, coming back to the same Boots to develop the film as soon as the last shutter clicked closed and the finished film rattled inside the camera. John turned out his pockets again to cover the fee, and when his remaining change came up short he and Cheryl made a show of digging in pockets and socks and purses, hemming and hawing while the attendant at the counter huffed and puffed in growing exasperation, until their combined performance become too tedious to deal with any longer, and the oustanding amount was waived entirely.

With the sunlight fading and the day coming to a close, but neither child prepared to surrender to the onset of evening even amidst shuttering businesses signalling them to go home, John and Cheryl sat on a high street bench and thumbed eagerly through their envelope of photographs. Many of the pictures were marred by poor lighting, or an unfortunate lens glare, or even intrusion from John's clumsy fingers across the shutter as he'd played with the camera, but one photo stood out: Cheryl was standing center-frame, the Royal Albert Docks positioned neatly behind her, smiling and laughing at the John behind the camera. The clouds had opened up in a moment of serendipity to free the sun and stream rays down onto the water, which bounced off the dappled surface to light up the picture from behind. The created effect sillhouetted Cheryl near-perfectly, and she was outlined in a way that looked evocative of the gold-flaked paintings of saints by the old masters. To John, the photo was remarkable, perhaps the singular accomplishment of his young life so far; it captured a paradoxically fleeting and infinite moment of serenity, and seemed to encapsulate an angelic quality about Cheryl. It was a glowing representation of John's sister though John's eyes. He loved it, and her, and they spent the rest of the evening delaying their inevitable return home by any means necessary.[/i][/color]

[hr]
John's eyes could burn a hole through the photograph, such was the intensity of his stare. He'd not stopped stealing glances since he'd left the house, his hand dipping almost reflexively at intervals into the inside pocket of his jacket - pulling it out, unfolding it, swallowing all the emotion it projected for the scant few seconds he could bare, before putting it back away. He'd held it between his fingers whilst on the payphone, moral support to make the call; he'd held it flat in his palm as he'd stood in front of the fridge in the corner shop and chosen a Ribena instead of a Red Stripe; and now, he held it pinched between the thumb and forefinger of each hand, sat on the steps in front of Liverpool Lime Street station, waiting for a train to get in but not sure which or when. He was still having trouble believing it even existed, even against the evidence of his senses; the picture must have been at least a decade old by now, and he hadn't thought of it since even before going away to Ravenscar - yet here it was, unmarred save for creases down the fold lines and a scuffed corner. There it had appeared in his jacket pocket, John himself struck by nothing less than a bolt of divine inspiration to check a wallet he hadn't opened in years and truthfully had forgotten he even possessed. Such strange and terrible dreams he was having, to be followed by the rediscovery of what amounted to a personal sacred relic. 

John felt, just out of sight - just down the road, around the corner...he couldn't be sure, and the feeling passed with such haste; and yet, a lingering sense of a hand proffered, a guide down an unknown path...

His stupour was interrupted by a swift kick to his side just beneath the ribs, a jolt of shock more than of pain but flash-in-the-pan anger rearing up all the same - he whipped his head up, scowl set and ready, only for the bubble to burst immediately as he clapped eyes on the one responsible.
[color=8B4513]"Hi, John."[/color]
[color=BDB76B]"Hi, Chas."[/color]

There was a pregnant pause. Chas loomed over John; he was a tall man anyway, having the better part of a full foot over John, and from his standing position above his friend's seated perch he towered, blotting out the sun as John squinted up at him. In two years Chas had grown and changed; taller, sure, but the way he held himself had shifted too, more cautious now, guarded by default. His hair had grown out, and the mussed waves were struggling against a plain cap that attempted to tame the wild strands, while his hands, pockmarked and tan, idly scratched at a rough, couple-days-unshaven beard. Chas' eyes looked older than John knew he was. Overall, John was struck by how [i]grown-up[/i] Chas looked. He wondered how he himself held up under his old friend's gaze. 
[color=8B4513]"Didn't realise you'd gotten out. Could have met you at the gate."[/color]
John looked back at the photo one last time before stowing it away and standing up.
[color=BDB76B]"No you wouldn't have."[/color] He replied. If Chas was offended, John couldn't tell. His face was inscrutable.
[color=8B4513]"Can't believe you remembered my phone number."[/color] Chas said instead, changing track.
[color=BDB76B]"I can't believe you haven't changed it."[/color]
[color=8B4513]"I figured at least one of us should have stayed reachable for everyone else 'round these ends."[/color]

There was a sharpness to that last jab that did not pass John by. He counted off people in his head: Cheryl disappeared. His dad up and left as soon as he was cleared as a preliminary suspect. Gary dived into vice, and John...well, John went diving too. In the midst of the maelstrom, Chas had moved to London to escape it all - but apparently couldn't stop himself laying at least one lifeline for those left behind. It was good-hearted nobility that John remembered as characteristic of Chas, if even just a sliver of it. There was another pause in the exchange as John computed and processed everything through the brain-fog.
[color=8B4513]"You look like shit, John,"[/color] Chas finally said, but with a tone of compassion rather than derision. [color=8B4513]"But at least you're out."[/color]
He gestured off to John's side, signalling toward the station-side Wetherspoons.
[color=8B4513]"Lunch?"[/color]

[hr]
They'd eaten, and Chas had had a pint while John sipped on a glass of Pepsi. Chas had the tact to notice John's quick glances at his ale and feigned distaste for a second drink once he'd drained his glass. Instead, they departed to wander the high street, window shopping in the ONE Mall until John grew weary of the security guard side-eyes; they stopped at Greggs on the way back, and as John chewed on great mouthfuls of sausage roll he realized with a dual twinge of guilt and regret that today had been the best he'd eaten since commitment to the asylum, and more than that it had all been on Chas' coin. He couldn't come up with the words to thank him, but hoped Chas would understand. Chas did, though equally he would not voice anything out loud. Eventually they called it, both feeling the fatigue of the day but for different reasons, and parted company with a follow-up rendevous agreed for the morning. 

That very morning arrived quicker than either expected and they found themselves on a bench in the Rupert Lane rec ground with the early-morning mist coiling about their ankles and sipping on hot tea from paper cups once again emblazoned with the Greggs logo - this time John's treat in some honour-bound attempt at repayment for Chas' inadvertant charity the day prior. They exchanged idle pleasantries as the hot liquid scorched their bellies and brought them around to the day awaiting them, but these tapered away as hastily as the last vapours of tea, and the pair lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Tension hung in the air, the atmosphere thick with all the thoughts and questions neither of them knew how to address. Eventually, Chas was the first to cross into the no-man's land that spanned the gap between them.

[color=8B4513]"Why'd you call me, John?"[/color] Chas asked. 
John was disarmed, thrown askew by the question. It carried all the tone of a man finally shedding his burden, choosing to damn all consequence rather than bear the weight another second. John slow-turned to look at Chas, who did not return his gaze, only keeping his eyes locked on some distant horizon. After a minute, John answered:
[color=BDB76B]"I said on the phone. Apologize. Make amends. See how you were getting on."[/color]
Chas sighed, the slightest hint of frustration in the motion.
[color=8B4513]"I meant, why'd you call me [i]now?[/i]"[/color]
At this John was lost; the expression on his face must have said it all, because this time Chas did look at him before clarifying: 
[color=8B4513]"Why [i]now[/i], two years later, and not [i]then[/i], before you threw yourself off that bridge?"[/color]

And there it was. The question hit John like a knife, sliding neatly between his ribs and popping his lungs like a balloon. His breath left him completely and his vision pulsed. He tried to stammer out an answer, willing the shaking in his hands to cease.
[color=BDB76B]"You...you'd gone to London...Gary gone too - didn't, didn't want to bother you - you'd gone for a reason, thought it'd just all be [i]neater[/i] if I..."[/color]
[color=8B4513]"I'd have come back. You know I would have. Hell, John, I came back yesterday. You could have said [i]anything[/i] and I've have come back. You should have said [i]something[/i]."[/color]
Tears welled behind John's eyes. He floundered for words, tripping over his own panicking mind.
[color=8B4513]"I understand why you didn't come with me. I understand you couldn't just give up on her. But to do [i]that[/i] instead... I was still there for you, John. I'm [i]still[/i] still here for you."[/color]

At that, the tears flowed freely; they were a stready stream, like a tap left on behind John's eyes, forgoing the wracking sobs for simple quiet, awkward weeping. 
[color=BDB76B]"I just..."[/color]
Through shaking breaths, John gathered what composure he could find, and considered his words before reciting them.
[color=BDB76B]"Our friendship - you, Gary, Ch-Cheryl...it was - is - the only good, pure thing of my life. I just- if I was going to live, going to carry on? If I didn't want to end up face down in the Mersey again...I needed that back. However splintered, however small a part of it remained. I needed a light."[/color]
He patted his pockets, searching for the box he'd purchased that morning before meeting Chas, almost in anticipation of a conversation much like this one. He found it, and quickly put a cigarette to his lips, offering the box to Chas as well; he held up a hand to decline, but also raised a lighter in the other to spark John up. John took a few deep drags, and began to feel the knot in his chest loosen.
[color=BDB76B]"I know I hurt you and Gary when you were already hurting over...over Cheryl. It wasn't fair. I'm sorry."[/color]
What else was there to say?

Chas sipped what must have been the cold and unpleasant dregs of his tea, stretching out the silence. John wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket as the flow of tears slowed to a halt. He felt lighter, adrift in the post-emotion calm that came after a good cry.
[color=8B4513]"Okay."[/color] Chas finally answered, anti-climactic as all get-out.
[color=BDB76B]"Okay?"[/color] John replied, not sure whether this was a good or bad response.
[color=8B4513]"I can't say I like being back here. I'm not going to sit here and lie and say seeing this town and these old haunts don't bring back hard, hurting memories. I can't even say looking at you at all is easy, like you aren't wearing the same stained tshirt you had on yesterday, or weighing twenty kilos less than you should. It's all [i]painful[/i], and that's the truth of it. It's all why I went to London in the first place."[/color]
Now Chas did look at John, and he rested a warm hand on his old pal's shoulder as he continued.
[color=8B4513]"But it's good to see you [i]alive[/i]. Cognizant. Rejoining the rest of the world, instead of running away from it. I guess, John, what I'm saying, is that however tricky this whole thing is...I'm glad to be here. With you."[/color]

They embraced, ever-so-briefly, with all the stuttering, stilted movement of two young men poorly attempting to express their affection and emotions.

When they parted, they both cleared their throats, and set eyes straight forward toward that far-off invisible point once more. 
[color=BDB76B]"Did you keep in touch with Gary at all?"[/color] John asked, changing the subject and happy not to linger on that prior topic any longer. [color=BDB76B]"Or keep tabs on him at all? It...it would be good to see him again as well. To apologize."[/color]
Chas shook his head in John's peripheral, an expected answer despite the hope that had crept in to the corners of the question.
[color=8B4513]"No. He went dark even before I moved, and after you went away- Lester may as well have dropped off the planet."[/color]
John nodded absently, and then jumped as Chas suddenly stood and darted to a nearby bin to chuck his empty cup. He whirled around and looked at John with a face that said 'A-[i]ha![/i]', to which he could not help but return a slight smile.
[color=8B4513]"[i]But,[/i]"[/color] Chas said, [color=8B4513]"I do remember where his old ma used to live. I figure that's as good a place to start as any."[/color]

He stretched a hand to John, who studied it before seizing it and wrenched himself up off the bench.
[color=BDB76B]"Alright then fella,"[/color] he said, [color=BDB76B]"lead the way."[/color]
[/color][/indent]