I'm sorry

"Gerroson, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

He wasn't sorry. He wasn't sorry at all. There wasn't anything that could make Jack regret this.

But, oh, Gerroson regretted it all.

One moment, Gerroson had his full heart again. His eyes could look, and they found joy among the pain. The next moment came with the sound of a body slammed against the door. Just like that, half of Gerroson's world became dark.

It all happened so fast.

All Gerroson could think about were Jack's regrets.

Wasting, spending half his life being someone he hated. He wouldn't ever tell Lily how he felt. He will never tell Randy how sorry he was. He will never go home again. He will never have a child. He will never tell Randy what he got him for his birthday. He will never fix things with the people he hurt. He will never see Yasmine find a family. He will never see her grow up. He died with regrets. He died unfinished. He died undignified, curled into a ball outside of the door.

The door didn't have a lock. The door he went out and held shut for as long as he could against the witch outside. He didn't go out with a bang. He died with his skull cracking against the metal door.

And the first thing Gerroson saw when Lily opened the door was red; Jack's once white poncho was stained cerise. All Gerroson could think about was his little brother, crumpled on the floor.

His eyes were still open.

"No..." Lily whispered, falling onto her knees. "No, no, no, no, no..."

Gerroson couldn't think about her. In fact, he didn't see her at all. He just thought about when those eyes were alive.

The entirety of his world was destroyed, and his only remaining family- gone. Gone for the same reason as always. Witches.

Gerroson didn't even cry at the sight of Jack's blood spilled everywhere, the trail on the wall where his body slid. It was like he was in a daze where memories kept hitting him.

He remembered so much. He remembered when Jack was finally adopted. Jack had gotten older since when he originally found him, and sat in the black car shyly, ever so shyly. How old was he? Preschool? Kindergarten?

He remembered Jack crying, running up to him. "I'm scared," he'd say, "Can I sleep with you?" And Gerroson, he was never able to say no to Jack's teary-eyed face.

Never in his entire life did Gerroson feel so empty. He officially lost his entire family. He had nothing to go home to. Nothing to go anywhere to. Jack was his home. Jack was the reason he was able to love. The moment when Jack died, he lost what mattered most.

Gerroson felt hollow inside.

The first thing they did was obvious-- they had to go home. Had go send off his body to a neat little casket. And the first stop home was the hardest.

Pepper tried to talk to him, but Gerroson wasn't having it anymore. It was like he entered a new age of darkness, like a depression without a light. There just wasn't a point to living without a family to call his own. A family to call home.

It was hard to go, but Gerroson knew who he had to go to first.

Taking a big breathe, Gerroson reached out and knocked sharply on the door he knew would only bring trouble. Almost immediately, Randy opened the door. He must have been surprised to see Gerroson, standing with gift bags and papers.

"Oh, hey, man!" Randy smiled, quite optimistically. "What're you doing here?"

"He's dead." Gerroson couldn't help but be choking at every word. He watched as realization slowly filled into Randy's pudgy face. His hopeful smile slid off like butter.

"Dead?" Randy whispered in a voice starting to shake. "He's dead? My Jack dead? Y-you can't be serious..."

"Randy, I wouldn't have come here if I didn't have to. He's dead. I saw his body. I heard him break."

At weight of his words, Randy began to sink to the floor, until he was at eye level with Gerroson. "He's dead..?"

"... Here's some of his things he had. I figured you deserved to have them more than me," Gerroson went on, shoving the gift bag into Randy's arms. Staring at them, Randy's face contorted into a grief-stricken look. The pain was clearly evident in his eyes.

Hesitantly, Randy tore into the first thing-- the little gift bag that Jack bragged so much about. Randy's birthday present, even though it happened months ago. And as soon as he found the present and the note, tears started to fall down his face. It was a device, one with the likeness of a talky.

"'2 beeps means I'm okay. Press button on the talky four times if you're in emergency. Press 3 times if you're okay but you wanna talk,'" Randy murmured as he read allowed the note. "'Have a good birthday, love you.'"

"Jack should have been the one to give it to you," Gerroson responded, which made Randy make louder noises.

Clutching the note to his face, the blonde winced and choked out, "He's not okay, he's not okay. He's my best friend. He's not okay."

This was harder than Gerroson thought. "Here's the papers."

On top was an old, weathered paper, the edges roughed and the paper slightly wrinkled. Unfolding it, Gerroson realized just what it was.

A child's drawing of two children, and it was clear who was who. The hair of one was colored with yellow crayon, and the other with black swirls, the crayon looking like it had been pressed too hard.

Jack kept that drawing all this time. Since third grade. Gerroson never realized that's what the paper in Jack's bag always was.

And then the pictures came. Jack in every one, and his friends smiling. Picture after picture. One of them was one Gerroson recognized- he remembered it being in Jack's wallet, right next to their mother.

At first, Randy was speechless. His face lost all emotion as he stared at those old, aged pictures. And then his lip began to quiver.

"I'm sorry," Gerroson muttered, looking down at his boots. He was sure that's what Jack would have wanted him to say.

And before he knew it, he was wrapped in a hug he wasn't able to wriggle out of. Randy held on to him, tighter than he ever been held before.

He could have torn away if he wanted to, but he didn't. Washed with the scent of sugar and herbs, he realized that even if he didn't like him, Jack did. Jack loved him. And Jack deserved Gerroson not tearing from this child.

Something Gerroson never heard before came out of Randy, some shade of grief entirely that was entirely new to him. This crying wasn't like the other times at all. His sobs were ragged and deep, like they came from the bitter pit of his soul. Gerroson never heard his voice raw and guttural like that before.

And Gerroson, the magnitude of what he lost finally crashing over him, felt his eyes well up and his body shake.