Boy, Boy, Crazy Boy

Chapter 11: Watching From Above... Well, More Like From Eye-Level, But Whatever

Riff was dead. 

He knew that much. 

What he didn't know was where the hell he was. He was lying on his back in a completely blank, sterile white room, the kind you see in a hospital, but without the medical equipment. 

He sat up - hands instinctively moving to where the knife had been in his stomach moments before, only to find it completely healed, with just a scar left over - and glanced around him, eventually spotting two doors, one on either side of the room. 

The one to his right was the same color as the walls, a bright white, almost blinding. It looked clean. Like it was freshly painted and had never been used. 

The one to his left was well-worn. The paint was peeling, the wood was splintering, the hinges were rusting, and he could tell that if he opened it, it would screech like a baby. 

He considered for a minute, then crossed to the old, familiar door. Taking another glance around the room, he opened it and stepped through. 

<~•~•~>

Riff was back at the rumble, watching himself die. 

The Jets and the Sharks were still in a circle around Riff, Tony, and Bernardo. 

Riff tried to push past them, but found he didn't need to. He went straight through them. 

He turned his attention to what was going on just as he saw himself slump over in Tony's grip. The latter eased him to the ground carefully, still holding the bloody knife in his hand. 

Tony looked at it, then at Riff's lifeless form, then he was on his feet and running at Bernardo. He plunged the knife into the Shark's chest. 

No one moved. 

Tony and Bernardo seemed to be locked in a weird hug, staring at each other. Then Bernardo looked down at the knife, buried hilt-deep in his heart, and he sunk to his knees, then toppled over sideways.

All hell broke loose. 

Sharks and Jets were tearing at each other in a murderous frenzy. Someone tried to get at Tony, but was intercepted by A-Rab. Baby John was trying to aim his fist at Braulio through his tears. Chino was cradling Bernardo's body amidst the chaos. 

Then the sirens started. 

The gangs panicked, escaping through doors or up the salt mountains to the ventilator windows. Several of the Sharks broke a window and climbed through it. But Tony was still kneeling over Riff's body, the latter's gun held limply in his hand. 

For a terrifying moment, his grip tightened on it, and Riff just about yelled at him. But he was - for the first time in his life - immensely relieved by the sudden appearance of Anybodys. 

"Tony, c'mon! C'mon!" 

The kid raced up to Tony and flung the gun away, hauling Tony to his feet and dragging him away from the scene.

"TONY, C'MON!" Anybodys repeated. 

They raced past Chino, who was still protectively shielding Bernardo's body. Tony stopped and looked at them, opening his mouth to say something. Chino just looked up, lost.

"Tony!" Anybodys snapped. "Now!" 

The sirens were noticeably closer as Anybodys pulled Tony away. Riff resisted the urge to follow them, instead turning to where Chino was kneeling over his fallen friend. 

Riff had known he was going to die. 

It was almost fitting, it was like he'd lived his entire life in reverse in the past few days.