The Highway to Hell

Aaron felt a little nervous as he dug, his nails getting dirtier with every small portion of grit he pulled out of the little hole he had already formed on the ground. He had not thought for a second that something would happen, but the little green box that held his friend's wishes was next to his and to accomplish his last living wish seemed like the right thing to do.

So he kept digging, ignoring the blood that poured from his fingertips in the same way he ignored the itch he felt in the back of his eyes as he remembered his old friend, Jose. Someone who simply started out as his partner during the sessions the doctors forced them to attend together. The point was for them to be alone for one hour in one of the usually empty hospital rooms. The ones that only had a table with two chairs and a clock on the wall, tickling loudly with every second that passed. And after the hour finished, they could decide to go to their own respective rooms or to the community room.

Something simple, they said, just to make them open a little more.

In the beginning, the doctors had said it would be easier for Aaron to talk to someone akin to his, but he still couldn't understand why the doctors thought it would be productive for two people who were asocial to end up together. Okay, maybe asocial was a strong word. It was not as if they could not socialize, it was more that they didn't want to talk. They wanted to be left alone.

And, like anyone would have expected, the first days they didn't talk at all. Jose just crossed his arms over his chest and muttered from time to time about how ridiculous the whole thing was. Aaron didn't even notice him those first days, he just blankly followed the instructions that were given to him and sat on the chair in front of Jose with his legs pressed tight against his chest. He scratched his thumbs occasionally as he looked through the window, thinking about how Erika would have liked to sit on that grass to read. She loved to read.

- -

It wasn't until their second week that they finally started a conversation, Jose being the one who initiated it with an "Okay, listen. This isn't going to end until those docs watch us interact or something."

It was at that moment that Aaron finally saw Jose, really looked at him. Before, it was as if he was walking in a crowd, too packed to even bother looking at the people, just walking without a goal. But then, someone talked in a tone so unlike the drone-like of doctors, and Aaron turned his head because it felt familiar. The blur that he always saw from his peripheral vision was now clear and he finally noticed the little things that he hadn't bothered to pay attention to.

He noticed that Jose had a mustache, that he was old and didn't possess one leg; that half of his right arm did not seem to be able to move. And that something in his tone felt so familiar it hurt. Aaron hadn't felt anything in a long time, so detached he had been. Only with pain could he feel anything.

If it hurt, it meant that he was alive, that he was real.

The beginning of what would be the beginning of their small conversations started with Jose telling him what he had, or what that the doctors thought he had: PTSD and paranoia.

"Kid, in my line of work you don't get to survive without being paranoid."

Aaron didn't say anything about himself ─he just wanted to listen─ so he nodded and made some small remarks every now and then. Enough for him to continue. It was like that, in one conversation, that he realized that he was gruff and had that 'take-no-shits' kind of attitude that reminded him of Will. When he finally made that connection, he found it easy to relax in his presence and to start talking to him: he felt familiar.

Not to mention that their talks provided the distraction he needed to avoid drowning in his own thoughts, or at least to be able to ignore them for a while.

- -

He didn't exactly remember when he started to enjoy their talks, perhaps sometime around the third and fourth week. He always wanted to know more about other people, listen to their stories, and offer comfort. That was why he had enjoyed working with Karen in the little Heaven when he was little. And with Jose was no exception.

Aaron learned in the first week that Jose didn't like to drink with others but would never refuse to drink a cold whiskey if someone invited him, "though only the good ones because after you taste the good stuff, boy, you'll never be able to go back to drinking the cheap stuff anymore." He learned in the fourth week that his last name was Meza; in the sixth, that he was Jewish. He had learned what being a huntsman meant in the seventh ─the same day Aaron had told him the real reason why he had been admitted here.

When Jose made his admission, Aaron had merely raised an eyebrow but he did not judge because, after all, they were both in a mental facility.

After Jose started asking weird questions and Aaron explained how everyone tended to suffer in some way or another because of him; how he hoped nothing would happen to his surrogate family. Jose hummed, scratched his beard, and looked thoughtful all day. It wasn't until they were ready to leave that he told him, "kid, I ain't sure but, just to be safe, let me confirm if you're clean." He then spent the next week performing some kind of spells every day to him.

Some smelled odd, others tasted weird, but Aaron followed all the instructions without protest because of the determination on Jose's face. That and because, by then, he trusted him. Though it was curious seeing so many different types of herbs and how easily Jose managed to pass them through security. When Aaron asked him how he got the ingredients, Jose only shrugged his shoulders before telling him about how he had many contacts that owed him many favors. The way his eyes glinted with amusement as he chuckled, made Aaron huff in amusement.

- -