Misc.

urinetown 3

officer barrel woke up in a dimly lit alleyway, in the middle of the night, with dried blood on his face, and regretted everything he'd ever done. 

the wind was like ice, and it howled through the narrow passageway between the buildings. the garbage and debris that people had dismissively thrown there shivered in the cold. barrel couldn't see much, his head was spinning and he felt nauseous; sick. everything around him looked unfamiliar, and he didn't know how he'd gotten there. his knuckles were busted- he'd been fighting, but he did that all the time so...what day was it? 

it hurt to move- hell, it hurt to breathe. it was so freezing he couldn't feel his fingers and when he winced, his lip split open again and he tasted fresh blood on his tongue. 

up. he had to get up. barrel pushed against a bag of trash to get himself standing. bottles clinked together and like a row of dominos that got knocked over, the bag slid out from under barrel's hand, leaving him to steady himself on just the dumpster. demeaning, that's what this was, but barrel was too disoriented to focus on his own pride. he groaned, gasping for air, hauling himself up. his legs felt like jelly.

the world spun around him. he felt like a fish out of water, useless and unable to take in a proper breath. he started dragging his feet forward, inching his way towards the end of the alley. he didn't know why, or even really how, just that he had to. it felt like it took a million years, but eventually the officer finally reached the sidewalk. 

somehow, it was colder out here, and the town was like a barren wasteland. the streets were deserted, and only empty wrappers blew across the pavement. barrel still couldn't remember how he'd gotten there. he stumbled over to the street corner and gripped the sign pole that told him he was somewhere on 4th avenue and Main street. his head throbbed and he could hear the blood rushing through his ears. jesus christ he was in so much pain. for the first time, he looked down and noticed the dark spots blooming on his uniform, one on the right where his ribcage was, and another down on the left just above his hip. instinctively, he reached over to touch the spot by his ribs, and his hand drew back bright red. somewhere in his mind he realized that that wasn't good, but he was so dizzy he couldn't think of a great solution. 

the screeching of his radio pulled his attention down to his belt. 

"come in, officer barrel, do you copy?"

barrel looked down, confused. did that come from his belt? or was he hearing things? 

"officer barrel, do you copy?" 

there it was again. barrel reached down and grabbed his radio, fumbling with the buttons on the side. the blood on his hand initially made it slippery, but quickly became sticky and cold in the frigid air. it was hard to hold anything down, and it took barrel a few tries before he was able to properly keep the button pressed.

"hello?" was all he could think to say. the single word reverberated through his entire skull and made everything start spinning again, if it wasn't already spinning enough.

"barrel what's your location? "

"who is this...?" he asked. as he gradually took in his surroundings.

"officer barrel, this is officer lockstock, what's your location?"

"lockstock?" barrel asked. he knew a lockstock. his radio crackled again but barrel had suddenly become very concerned with his own hands. his radio faded into the background. the thing was, they didn't look like his own hands. where they his? was this his body? he felt lightheaded, and saw stars dance across his vision. god, it was so cold. 

"did you hear what i just said? barrel where the hell are you!?" the voice on the radio yelled. barrel's attention was brought back to the walkie talkie in his hand.  and he replied with the last ounce of energy he could muster.

"4th and Main." he mumbled. the rushing in his ears got louder, and his vision got darker. the hand that was gripping onto the street sign slid off, leaving a bloody smear. barrel collapsed on the ground, broken.

-

someone was shaking him. aggressively. someone was shaking him and it was making his chest hurt. 

"stopit..." he groaned, existing in a sort of liminality between darkness and wake. the Someone said something but it was too far away for barrel to hear- too drowned out by the ringing in his own ears. 

the Someone touched his face, and pressed their ear to barrel's chest. 

then they started chest compressions. 

barrel woke up when it felt like a fire had ignited inside his lungs. he screamed, grabbing at Someone's arm, pushing it off, gasping in air, and exhaling it as wet sobs that shook his entire body. when would it be over? could it not all just be over? 

"hey- it's just me, it's me- barrel, it's lockstock-" the Someone said, looming over him, and as the tears dripped out of barrel's eyes, he realized that it was in fact, officer lockstock. 

oh jesus, lockstock. 

"and i love you. very much."

lockstock wasn't stupid, there was very clearly not much hope for the officer. he was pretty sure that barrel knew this as well, somehow. 

"mr. barrel, we're going to sit you up, okay?" 

"no..." barrel mumbled, closing his eyes. 

"on the count of three."

"no please..." barrel repeated, drawling in another breath. it was getting harder for him to do that, he realized. 

"one-"

"i can't-"

"two-" 

"don't-"

"three-"

he felt lockstock hook his arms under barrels and pull upward, but like a stubborn dog, barrel didn't move. his body was completely limp. he heard lockstock strain himself and then slip on the sidewalk, tumbling onto the ground. barrel hit the concrete unceremoniously and immediately his eyes started to close again. 

in the blink of an eye, lockstock was back next to him, tapping barrel's cheek to keep him awake, holding him.

lockstock didn't love him, but he was always there. 

"stay with me. stay with me, please." lockstock said, shifting so that one of his arms was under barrel's head, and the other was pressing against the wound on his side. for the first time, maybe ever, he sounded scared.

"okay." barrel whispered. 

they both went quiet, the only movement coming from lockstock who would gently nudge barrel awake every time his eyes shut. crimson stained his hands. he would be scrubbing dried blood out from under his nails for a while. the wind continued howling and whining, masking the wheezing sounds barrel's breathing made. the eerie rattling on his inhale was a sure sign he wasn't going to make it, and yet, lockstock stayed with him. 

he told himself he was waiting. for what, he wasn't sure. until barrel felt good enough to move again, maybe. 

"hey." lockstock said, tapping barrel's face again. the other man's eyes opened, but they looked exhausted and glassy. 

"sorry." barrel sighed, coughing.

"what are you sorry for? don't be sorry." lockstock shook his head, laughing at how silly the thought was.

"it's cold." barrel said. 

"i know. it'll be warmer soon." 

"oh. promise?"

"yes, mister barrel. i promise."

lockstock shifted so that barrel was closer to his chest, at the very least he could die slightly less frozen. 

"hey-" barrel said, gasping for breath. "i'll have some pretty cool scars by the time this is all over..." 

oh christ. of course he would get in one last witty line. 

"yes, i'm sure you will." lockstock smiled.  "i'm sure you will."