dee

HOW YOU MET

eating alone was a part of his routine.

raymond garraty, the boy everyone knew for his impressive baseball skills, did not have friends. or at least real friends. people praised him for his victories and achievements, yet no one really stuck around for his personality. the mockeries about his weight and ginger hair he had suffered from in middle school had ceased. teenagers had grown into soon-to-be adults, technically maturing. they had forgotten about the bullying they had inflicted on their victim, whereas it had destroyed sixteen-year-old ray's confidence and abilities to make deep, lifelong connections. he was accustomed to those surface-level relationships by now. pretending he was fine seemed easier than confronting his feelings and opening up. staying out of people's way and standing for himself if necessary were the only options, which did not make him any more likeable to his peers.

[your name] had recently moved to the other coast of the country, from california to maine. nobody knew her; she could start from scratch. a new beginning to create meaningful connections and give herself a new chance at life.

her fantasies quickly crumbled. everyone had already formed their friend group. nobody was looking to include a new addition in sophomore year. every student she attempted to strike a conversation with during the first hours answered with one-word sentences or half-hearted nods. she felt invisible. back in california she had at the very least some acquaintances. if each attempt produced this outcome, she was certain to remain alone until the end of high school. moreover, the lack of seats in the lunchroom discouraged her. even if a seat was free, a bag was hogging the place or was taken by someone who would absolutely be back sooner or later. she was about to give up when her eyes caught a table hidden behind a wall where a boy ate alone.

her grip on her tray tightened as her heartbeat moved to her throat. her legs were on autopilot as she rehearsed in her mind how she would introduce herself to the boy. simple and effective was the way to go. before she realised, she was standing in front of the table as the ginger boy stared at her, frowning in confusion.

"can i help you?" he broke the silence as he picked the chicken from his plate with his fork.

"can i eat here?" she asked, unable to come up with what she had rehearsed.

the boy shrugged and gestured to the empty seats around him with his fork. his standoffish attitude was better than nothing. lunch was spent in silence, although her mind was racing with endless thoughts. the day was not supposed to unfold this way. she expected excitement and was met with distance. the warmest encounter she had was with this boy who barely looked up from his food. was this nonchalance or terrible social skills?

it was her goal to find out.

[your name] became part of raymond garraty's routine.

every day, the young girl would search through the lunchroom for the familiar tuft of fiery hair. she found out what his name was in the first week. she stopped asking for permission to sit down with him in the second week. she sat by his side in the fourth week. despite ray's initial hesitation, the two of them eventually discovered trivial things about one another that strengthened their growing bond. ray's bluntness, honesty and humour burst through the brick wall he had built.

mrs. garraty was relieved and oh so grateful ray was no longer isolated. she had tried to be discreet when it came to her concerns about her son. although it was her primal instinct, she did not want to pressure him by being overbearing. his lack of interaction at school and the loss of his father had taken a toll on both mother and son. the moment [your name] appeared in his life, the clouds split to let the sun shine. mrs. garraty had invited [your name] and her family over for dinner, thanksgiving, and even christmas. nothing fancy, but enough to feel warmth and hope. the blond, tall woman had not realised how lonely she had been until she held a conversation with mrs. [your last name].

she felt like a person again.

as the months passed by, ray and [your name] transitioned from a purely platonic bond to a romantic one. the shift was natural. the routine was identical. from lunchroom to picnics. from fingers grazing to fingers intertwined. to ambiguous shared looks to staring into each other's eyes. all thanks to [your name] wanting to hang out outside of school.

HOW HE PROPOSED

ray, just like the rest of young american men throughout the whole country, had applied for the long walk the moment he was eligible to participate. he never told her. it was not worth mentioning. it was a given. anyone who did not consider his choice a rational and potential decision was a fool or wealthier than most.

she knew, but like everyone else, she believed bad things only happened to others.

until the letter arrived.

his second brightest idea after applying for the death walk was to show up unannounced at her house and break her heart. he had been walking back and forth between his mother's car and the front door, unable to summon the courage to knock, as multiple scenarios ran through his mind. should he lie? a tiny white lie. declaring he had lost all romantic feelings for her to spare her from the truth. ray needed to get [your name] to hate him. it was always better than having her worry whether he would live to see another day or be shot on national television in the name of the american dream.

before he could make his final decision, his train of thought abruptly stopped at the sound of his name being softly called. ray froze as [your name] approached with a wide smile, elated by his surprise appearance. she began to tell him about her whereabouts: she had spent the afternoon at the library and had eaten a sandwich she had made at the park. her smile slowly faded as she noticed the dread in ray's eyes. despair she had witnessed in the past, but usually knew its causes.

she gently grabbed his hand to lead him to her house, caressing the back of his hand with her thumb. she never took her eyes off him; concern washed over her face as she calmly asked if something had happened. on edge, ray shut his eyes tightly and swallowed hard as her words were drowned by the pounding beats of his heart. his body naturally trailed behind the young woman, longing for her comfort that he would soon yearn for when battling against the bad weather and his mental state on the long walk.

ray seemed to regain consciousness and control over his actions, prompting him to pull his hand away from her grip. ray's sudden movement confused [your name], who fully turned her body to face the young man.

she took a step in his direction. he backed away.

she frowned. his eyes softened.

her heart pounded. his heart pounded.

"we need to break up," he broke the news. his hands reached for his head, down to his face, rubbing the cold skin of his cheeks.

her world shattered into tiny pieces of crystal. she blinked a few times as her brain processed the information, rewiring to better understand.

"what—,"

"i think we should split up," he continued, his voice devoid of emotion, staring at the ground. "it's for the best." he raised his gaze only to be confronted by glossy eyes.

she was speechless. her lips quivered. guilt formed in the pit of her stomach.

"w-why?" her voice cracked. "did i do something?" she questioned, holding in the tears.

"i just think we aren't meant to be," he harshly declared, barely holding eye contact, which betrayed the confident façade he maintained.

his behaviour was out of character. ray was a romantic at heart, although he could hardly afford one single red rose or pamper her with lavish jewellery and fancy dinners, he always found ways to show his love. his father raised him to be a gentleman. a role model to his son, unafraid to show his wife his unconditional love for her in front of their son. dancing in the living room with jazz music, home-cooked dinner from scratch, being present when it mattered the most, sweet words and reliability. pouring out his heart through his efforts.

ray took after his father.

they had been deeply in love with each other for five years. they had argued in the past; reconciliation was the only option between them. the inevitability of the breakup and the indifference he displayed indicated one possibility.

"don't tell me you got in?" she said in a low tone, her eyes widening at the realisation.

"i don't know what you're talking about." he shrugged her off.

"you know damn well what i'm talking about," she countered in anger. she got her confirmation when ray sighed, his shoulders slumping as his lips were pressed together in a thin line.

sobbing, she rushed to his side, throwing her arms around his torso. a desperate attempt to shield him from his near-death, a pathetic attempt at reassuring herself that ray was staying by her side. he could not leave if she prevented him from doing so, her feet anchored in the ground, until the fateful day arrived.

denial.

ray tensed up, longing to engulf her in a passionate hug. his body was trembling as he forced himself out of her embrace, whispering her name in exasperation.

"this is my decision, you can't change my mind," he asserted, walking back towards the car.

[your name] ran behind him, trying to grab his hand, but he always yanked it away, dismissing her pleas.

he opened the passenger door of the car, [your name] was faster, slamming the door shut with her back.

"please, move," he calmly asked, rubbing his eyebrow and avoiding her distraught face.

"so, you're just gonna abandon me like that?" she accused.

"i'm not—"

"what about your mom?" she pointed out, her remarks cutting deep.

"don't bring her into this," he glared.

"how d'you think she's gon' be when she loses her son too?" she added, her words uneven.

"don't talk about things you know nothing about!" he retorted, enraged. she dared to talk about his father in such light. she had some nerve.

"does she even know?!" she shouted, as ray pushed her out of the way.

"it's none of your business," he spat out, getting in the car. he did not owe her anything; she was no longer his girlfriend. he sat in the passenger seat, turned on the engine, and harshly closed the door, ignoring whatever [your name] was yelling at him. running away from the consequences.

[your name] violently kicked the car repeatedly, denting it. she shrieked obscenities that would unsettle a sailor and threw everything she had in her bag against the car until it disappeared on the horizon.

the woman ran after the vehicle in vain. ray was not coming back. she tripped and fell on the concrete. her hand eased the fall. she sat down, out of breath from uncontrollably sobbing, and took a look at her palms. bits of skin mixed with tiny pieces of rocks and covered by hot blood. however, the physical pain was nothing compared to the aching mind filled with the atrocities awaiting ray and her wilted heart.

the moon had just come up when a neighbour, on his way back from work, found [your name] lying on the pavement. she had managed to get herself off the road, only to collapse a few steps away. her empty eyes gazed out at the horizon, cars passing by without a second glance at her. the older man panicked at the sight; everyone in the neighbourhood knew one another. in these hard times, community ties were to be nurtured. he rushed to her side, helping her to her feet. the man questioned [your name], checked for injuries other than the palms of her hands. she stared at the void, and her mouth, slightly open, did not emit a sound. the man led her to her front door and hammered against its wood. her mother answered. the older woman gasped at the state of her daughter.

dirty.

tears stains on her cheeks.

hollow eyes.

silent. completely silent.

the lady of the house profusely thanked the neighbour for bringing back her daughter, informing him she would be taking over. she sat her daughter at the table, yelling for her husband to come down. she crouched next to [your name], a delicate hand on her shoulder, and the other stroking her hair. her father rushed into the small living room, frantic. his wife's worried frown and his daughter's unusual silence were enough to increase his own concerns.

her parents tried everything, from compassion to anger, from begging to yelling, from giving her space to serving her hot soup and comforting her with kind words. [your name] remained catatonic. they were at a loss, yet they could not give up.

the soup was cold.

rain was pouring outside.

confusion floated in the air.

"i'll call ginnie, she might know something," her mother stated, desperate to help her daughter.

ginnie?

mrs. garraty.

[your name] choked back her tears. ray had surely informed his mother of his decision. she was probably in the same state, if not worse, as [your name]. she buried her head in her face, loudly sobbing. that was the only emotion she expressed since she had gotten home. her mother stopped in her tracks, about to rush to her daughter's side, but her husband was faster. he tightly embraced his little girl, directing his wife to keep walking to the phone with a curt nod and an intense eye.

it took a couple of tries before her mother managed to reach the garraty's household. mrs. [your last name] anxiously tapped her foot against the creaking wood of the floor. her eyes were shut, and her chest visibly lifted with each long breath she took in an attempt to soothe her nerves. mrs. garraty eventually picked up the phone. mrs. [your last name] greeted her friend with a fake bright tone to mask her shaky voice. the cheerfulness immediately vanished. ginnie was crying. she should not have answered the phone without composing herself. another loud voice spoke in the background.

[your name] stood up in haste after hearing the muffled voice of ray's mother. the chair hit the floor. her father tried to get her to sit back down, worried she would faint from her sudden movements and lack of digested nutrients.

"is everything alright, ginnie— he did what?!"

she pushed her father away, rushing to her room down the hallway. she slammed the door behind her, locking it. she struggled to breathe, each breath piercing a hole through her chest, stinging her heart a little more. she collapsed on her bed, not bothering to change into more comfortable clothes. she hid under the blanket. a layer to shield her from reality.

she sobbed until her body could not produce any more tears, yet her weak frame kept convulsing.

her mother had tried to get into her room. multiple times. [your name] blocked out everything she said. her thoughts were louder than spoken words.

she wanted comfort.

the person who caused her pain was the only one who could soothe it.

she wanted to be gone from this world.

the person she needed would be gone soon.

she fell asleep with only one thought in her mind.

how much she hated ray.

he succeeded.

five days had passed. long enough that she had stepped back into her routine. pushing down to the pit of her heart her feelings. interacting with customers at work just like she would any other day. greeting her colleagues with the same insincere smile, greeting the neighbours with the same polite smile, and calmly walking home after a day of hard work.

she behaved like her normal self. but everybody knew. most were too nice to bring it up to her face, and others hypocritical enough to express their excitement for the long walk behind her back. ray had been publicly announced as the boy to represent the state of main. it was the end of her world, but still a typical day of the year. she grew up surrounded by this propaganda and the hope the long walk brought america. for everyone, it was a thursday; for her, it was excruciating hours of pretending everything was alright.

dreams and nightmares of ray plagued her nights. the seemingly calming dreams where ray lay by her side, safe and sound, tenderly stroking her cheek with a smile adorning his face, and the nightmare where she witnessed his face getting blown up after his third warning were equally haunting. she would wake up in the middle of the night to the same reality. alone. unable to change the near future.

she had not reached out to check on ray. ray had not tried either. she reminded herself not to get her hopes up; he had initiated the breakup, he was not rushing to talk to [your name]. more important matters were at hand. still, ginnie had stopped by the house, staying over for tea with her mother. [your name] was incapable of facing mrs. garraty. one glance at the blond woman was enough for the tears to sting her eyes. she would enter her home and make a beeline for her room, dismissing the woman's attempt at greeting her. her mother had scolded her for her awful demeanour. that woman lost her son; he was still alive, but what was the difference?

mourning the living was harder than mourning the dead. a ghost from the present. the odds of running into ray were rather high. they lived in the same city, had a similar routine and frequently hung out at the same spots; some of these spots they had discovered together. you would think they were bound to see each other. fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on the way of looking at things, she had not. [your name] had shrunk her routine to exclusively working and heading back home. as for ray, he was probably hiding at home, drowning in his fears or training as much as he could for the walk.

no amount of training could prepare someone for a never-ending walk.

he had been playing baseball since he was a kid; it could surely advantage him during the walk. but this was wishful thinking. deluding herself by finding reassurance in the stupidest memories. her fondest memories, actually. ray teaching her how to use a baseball bat, missing every shot he threw at her and being overly excited when she managed to hit the ball once, although her aim was terrible.

two days before the walkers would be wandering around main. the television would be turned off for a minimum of a week. she had taken the week off work. her colleagues' sympathy was short-lived. money had already been placed on which walker they deemed the best horse. the excitement in town sickened her. gawking at boys on their way to their execution was not inspiring. it was not the hard work they put into seeking american dream lifestyle. it was televised murders and a sick entertainment.

it was life. working your way to the grave, blinded by the illusion of success.

[your name] got off the bus, the neighbourhood was buzzing with kids' laughter. she walked in silence to her house. on the porch, she removed her dirty shoes covered in dry mud. she fumbled with her keys to find the right one and got inside the house. she could hear her mother in the shower, and her father had told his family he had taken a double shift at the factory. she rolled her tense shoulders, letting out a long sigh to relieve the stress she had accumulated from work and the shitty week she had. she threw her bag on the floor, the keys on the console table and mechanically walked to the end of the corridor to her bedroom.

as her legs led her to her bedroom, she was planning her next week. she would listen to some records she had collected over the years, carefully avoiding the ones ray had gifted to her. she would read some of the books on the shelf covered by a blanket of dust. she would sort out the clothes in her closet. she would not get rid of anything, not in this economy, just organise the few outfits she could put on.

but right now, she needed a well-deserved nap.

"what are you doing here?" she stuttered in surprise.

ray was sitting on the edge of her bed, a bed she had kept since she was just a little girl; her feet almost touched the bottom of the wooden frame. his head was slumped, he was staring at the floor. he flinched at the sound of her voice, snatching him out of his thoughts. he jumped to his feet in an instant, like a private getting caught lazing around by his sergeant.

"i wanted to see you," he admitted, swallowing. she simply nodded; she did not know what to say. she wanted to see him too, not in these circumstances.

"i thought you were done with me," she replied, closing the door behind her. ray shakily sighed. "how'd you get in?" she frowned.

"your mom," he informed with no further details. she nodded. ray was balancing his weight on one foot, then the other. her hands were still tightly holding the doorknob.

she wanted more than anything in the world to throw her arms around his neck and anchor him to the floor so he would never leave. the suffocating tension froze their body. she was furious that he dared to show his face after his terrible announcement caused her. if he had any honour left, he would quietly leave. however, this was not a typical case. they were in love. they understood each other. they compromised. but ray was on his way to the slaughterhouse. a relationship would only hold him back. he thought ending things with [your name] would make everything easier for both of them. something off his mind he did not need to worry about anymore. it ended up being the opposite. they were each other's orpheus and eurydice, only [your name] had no way of sneaking into the underworld to retrieve her lover.

"hope you didn't wait too long," she empathised, monotone.

"don't be," he replied. "i'd have waited until you'd come back, anyway," he added, clearing his throat.

she loosened her grip on the doorknob. her eyes softened. ray has always been so sweet to her. she had missed him so much, although his presence reminded her of their impossible love. she relaxed her posture, finally able to take a few steps into the room. it had been almost a week since she had been this close to ray. the last time they were within inches of one another, ray acted like she meant nothing to him, and now he apparently wanted to see her. she was torn apart.

"is there anything you wanted to talk about?" she hinted at the long walk, sitting on the edge of her bed.

"actually, there is..." he mumbled.

"well, tell me," she patted the mattress, inviting him to join her.

"i think it's better if i stay up," he insisted.

[your name] lazily nodded with a quick raise of her eyebrows. ray was in a hurry, she thought. stopping by her house was more of a chore than anything. ray was a busy man. she felt naive thinking he actually wanted to spend his last days around her.

she observed ray roam around the room, patiently waiting for him to speak up. he seemed hesitant, rubbing his forehead anxiously and breathing through his mouth.

"you sure you don't want to sit down?" she broke the silence, careful. ray simply shook his head, his hands on his hips, and his head hung low.

"you sure? i can get you some water?" she stood up, taking a step towards ray. "ray, is every—"

"i'm so sorry, i should have never treated you the way i did. please, i'm so sorry, forgive me, please," he burst out, harshly grabbing her by the arms, his fingers sinking into the skin.

"ray, just sit down." [your name] guided him, pushing his hands off her as his grip hurt a little bit.

"no, let me speak," he pleaded with his eyes, desperate as he grabbed her wrist, this time with gentleness.

"i'm an idiot," he started, his eyes tightly shut. "i thought that breaking up was the solution, i was dumb— i am dumb!" he corrected himself, unhibited, his eyes wide open. "i'm so fucking scared." a tear escaped his eye.

he sat down on the bed. she sat down by his side, her hand delicately placed over his.

"i was so fucking selfish, i'm so sorry," his words started to get mixed up. his speech was unintelligible.

"it's okay, ray—" "no, it's not!" he cut her off, frantically moving his hands in front of him.

[your name] was heartbroken by ray's panic-stricken state. she was starting to be affected by his panic. she cupped ray's face between her hands, gently turning him towards her.

"it's okay," she assured him, her thumb tenderly caressing his cold cheek.

the sensation of her warm hands against his cold skin grounded ray into reality.

"i gotta do this now," he let out breathless.

"what are you—" she gasped.

ray was down on one knee, fumbling around the pocket of his pants, eventually revealing a modest yet beautiful silver ring. his mother's wedding ring. a prized family heirloom.

"i can't lose you, i really can't," he confessed. "i need to do this. i love you— i'm in love with you. i-i wouldn't be able to live with myself if i didn't do this." his hand was on his heart.

"then, please, don't do this, just stay," she begged. she was on her knees, face to face with ray, her hands on his shoulders.

"please, just marry me, [your name]," he avoided her hopeless plea.

this was overwhelming.

"don't do this because you're leaving," she sighed, tearful. "i want us to get married because you mean it, because you want it."

"i've been in love with you for years, [your name]," ray reminded her. "please, i just need you to be mine before tuesday."

she cried. she could not even enjoy her proposal. their life was not miserable enough; it had to turn into a tragedy. it should have been an emotional moment shared between the two. and it was, but for all the wrong reasons.

"okay... yes. yes, i will marry you," she whispered weakly.

they were supposed to be overjoyed. it was the next step in their life. this proposal only asserted the end. ray gulped. he grabbed his now-wife's hand from his shoulder to put the ring on her finger. he stared at the ring, seemingly in shock. [your name] dried her tears with her free hand and stood up, helping her husband to his feet. they were not actually married, but it did not matter. no need for a fancy ceremony when they were short on time.

she raised her gaze to ray's face. her heart sank at his blank expression, and her lips quivered in anguish. she threw her arms around his neck, crying into his neck. he engulfed her into a passionate embrace, his face also hidden into the crook of her neck, tears of his own drenching her skin.

"stay for the night, please, just don't leave me again," she begged, her voice muffled into his neck.

"i promise, i won't leave, i promise you." he replied, sniffling.

what a lie.

in less than two days, he would be ripped away from her in the name of freedom and hope. in the name of entertainment. in the name of glory and manhood. the pursuit of the american dream all these boys longed for. or in his case, in the name of vengeance. ray was going to lose himself, blinded by his rage against the major and this system. the undying love he had for [your name] was not enough. he would be satisfied when the major choked on his own blood. but someone else would take his position, leaving ray in this endless cycle.

at least he had [your name].

the poor woman would soon lose him.

THE WEDDING

the revolution occurred during the first night. more than half the boys had perished on that damn hill. a few others met their death when the rebels ambushed the walk. on that hill, ray thought he was done for if it had not been for mcvries. he was paranoid, convinced everyone wanted him six feet under, especially after those comments barkovitch barked at everyone. maybe he had hallucinated that part, but it did not ease his nerves.

when the rebels burst out of their hiding spot, he was terrified. everybody was. ray tripped over his feet, face-first against the concrete, waiting to receive his ticket as he had already been given two warnings. no firearm sound against his head, no third warning. pete helped ray up to his feet. ray was about to walk again, but pete kept holding onto his arm, preventing him from taking another step. pete looked around in the dark with wide eyes, prompting ray to do the same. three other boys had lost their lives, as well as all the soldiers who had been following them along their walk. the tanks had stopped, and men holding weapons had replaced the soldiers. ray turned around, out of breath. collie was carrying a firearm, bashing a soldier's head. harkness was sitting on the ground as one of the strangers took a look at his snapped ankle. if it had not been for the ambush, the writer would not have lasted long.

"what the hell...?" arthur breathed out, holding onto his cross. hank was standing a few feet ahead of the group, propping his body with his hands on his knees.

"you boys are coming with us," one of the strangers informed.

"who the fuck are you?" ray exclaimed. :

questions have not been answered since then. the man simply explained they were against everything the long walk stood for. no outside uprisings had ever happened during the long walk. every year, one or two participants tried to fight the soldiers, a last resort to survive, leading to nothing but their demise. no news outlet spoke about a potential threat to the long walk, and the military base did not seem more secure than in previous years. no one could have expected a group of armed men would hijack the long walk. the man revealed that their group had existed for over a decade, formed by a group of friends from university with a specific ideology and eventually led by a former sergeant. they never had the opportunity to execute their plan until tonight.

they had to be discreet, therefore resorting to walking all night in the woods. harkness was carried by one of the men, and the others would stop whenever they needed. they could go relieve themselves behind a tree like human beings, no dehumanisation, not recorded for national television to witness.

the following day at dawn, a truck was waiting for them. as the vehicle started to drive, the boys immediately fell asleep. this beat-up truck was obviously safer than sleepwalking with a gun to their temple.

once they reached their destination, which was hidden from them, stebbins and harkness were separated from the group to be taken into emergency care. meanwhile, the others were left alone in an empty lunchroom. the boys spoke amongst themselves. they sat at a metal table, their belongings scattered under the table. collie was very distrustful of these people, arguing they should not have followed them. they had no reason to trust them. if anything, they took stebbins and harkness aside to experiment on them. pete somewhat agreed, stating they should stick together no matter what, even pointing at barkovitch who sat away from the group fiddling with his scarf.

the boys flinched at a loud bang that echoed behind the metallic double doors. an angry voice erupted. a feminine voice.

"are you fucking kidding? we have the right to see them!" a woman shouted. "it's her son, goddammit!" she continued, outraged.

ray's mind had to be playing tricks on him. that was [your name]'s voice.

the man guarding the door unlocked it, unable to contain the furious woman.

"baby... my baby," ginnie garraty sobbed at the sight of her son.

ray stood up in haste, almost tripping over the bench. he had an impulse to run into the safety of his mother's embrace, profusely apologising for his stupid decision to join the walk instead of backing out when he still could have.

"that has to be ginnie," pete said to art.

behind ray's mother, [your name] stood frozen in place, her hands over her mouth and happy tears streaming down her face. ray locked eyes with her. letting go of his mother, they ran towards each other, quickly closing the gap between them. he winced at the sudden contact. his limbs ached so much that even the light graze of a leaf could hurt.

ray was the first to pull away from the hug, cupping her face with his rough hands to pull her into a clumsy yet passionate kiss.

"and that's the wife," pete chuckled.

ray came back home.

the wedding ceremony was held a month later. the rebels offered the survivors an escape plan. they could not remain in the country after the stunt they had pulled during the walk.

during the month they stayed hidden in this bunker in the middle of nowhere, family members were brought in little by little for their protection. the military was investigating the incident. close family members would be interrogated first. hank's wife was brought to the underground base at the same time as ray's family. the two young women instantly hit it off, already sharing one thing in common: a reckless life partner. stebbins' mother was the next to arrive, devastated to see her little boy so ill. everyone saw stebbins as this tall, strong, stoic and standoffish guy; his mother was just seeing her baby in distress. harkness had a large family composed of three older sisters and his parents. his mother ripped him a new one; no one understood what she was saying. she was shouting in italian. all they saw was this woman hysterical, staring at her son's amputated foot, then tightly hugging her son, who cried in the warm embrace of his mother. art's grandmother and barkovitch's grandparents were next to arrive. and at last, collie's mother and younger brother arrived. collie's mother had kissed him on the cheek so ardently that, despite not wearing any lipstick, the outline of her lips could be seen on his skin.

they also planned their perfect wedding, cuddling under the paper-thin blanket provided in the dormitory they shared with everyone. they had no money, but they still had desires. [your name] was quite sad she would not be able to wear an actual wedding dress. ray reminded her how gorgeous she was. she could be wearing a dress made out of damp newspaper, and his jaw would drop at her beauty.

for the bouquet of flowers, they would discreetly pluck some out at the town hall. and that was exactly what they did.

after moving to canada with the help of the rebels, ray and [your name] eloped, impatient to formally become husband and wife, stealing some of the flowers in front of the town hall to put them in a vase once home. after they were better settled in their new life, they decided to hold a small celebration in a field, far away from the city.

nothing fancy, even if they could afford it, the couple were simple people who enjoyed the simple pleasures in life. everyone wore their best clothes. there was no specific dress code. just people reunited to celebrate love.

pete was his best man, and clementine was [your name]'s maid of honour. during the vows exchange, pete had to slide ray's speech, which had taken weeks to write, into his sweaty hands, sending him a wink of courage.

pete even sang for the couple. a few lyrics he had been working on. he whipped out a guitar, sat on a white wooden garden chair, before his deep, honey voice engulfed the atmosphere. ray was not apprehensive about their first dance as a married couple. he had taken dance classes in the past and slow-danced with [your name] on multiple occasions in the privacy of their home. ray also danced with his mother and [your name] with her father, and then pete. the man had moved in with the family. he was a garraty now. he was family, it was obvious he would have a dance with the bride.

moreover, ray was able to put on some of his father's favourite records. there was no censorship in canada. the nostalgia hit mother and son like a train on a track, tearing up when they danced together.

mrs. garraty had baked a pumpkin pie and a strawberry cake. enough for everyone who attended the wedding. a table had been set outside for dinner.

although stebbins and harkness could not attend the ceremony due to their medical condition, and collie decided to stay in america, barkovitch was invited. the young man felt incredibly guilty for his actions during the walk; not everyone had forgiven him, but they had stopped calling him a 'murderer', to his face at least. they would come around. he had volunteered to take pictures of the ceremony. most pictures were of the newlyweds, the bride with her parents, the groom with his mother and the muskeeters. tons of the photographs that included hank were blurry or laughable.