I'd Start A Riot //Dyle//

Chapter Three

The two men walked when they woke up across half of London, both of them struggling in the sun. They walked until they could walk no further and ended up sat in an alleyway between an abandoned house (that had a can of peaches inside which the two boys were happy to find), before they fell asleep shortly after, only to have the heavens open and rain pour down, soaking them through to the bone with rain.

"This sucks. All of it. It all sucks. Everything." Kyle complains, groaning and throwing his head back, a trail of rain flying from the tips of his hair. His clothes are hanging off of his skinny, tall frame saturated with water. It'll take him hours to get dry again. "Where does this guy even live? It feels like we have been walking for hours on end."

Charlie shrugs and runs his own hand through his hair, pushing it back and out of his eyes. "Like, somewhere across London? I don't know. Maybe we could get there tonight." Luna, the black and white dog, is still at his feet, her nose to the ground and her tail high in the air. "Hopefully he will have some food. Usually he has some food. He's doing pretty well for himself, considering."

"You said we'd be there last night," Kyle grumbles, rolling his eyes. Why did he throw that bastard jumper into that bastard river when he knew it would get cold again? "If he's doing well for himself, then why are you out here?"

"I didn't want to take all of his stuff," Charlie tells him, "You know, I didn't want to take what wasn't mine. Don't get on the side of a man with a gun."

Kyle nods, his body aching. He doesn't mind the fact that Charlie is here, not at all, and his dog is amazing. But he doesn't entirely believe him and his hope that this friend of his will help. Part of him is doubtful that this man even exists.

"I'm tired," it has only just stopped raining, so the ground is wet and full of puddles. The sun is out, though, so it's far too humid and horrible, making Kyle uncomfortable.

"We'll be there soon."

"I loved him. I still do love him. I need him back with me, man." Kyle's heart hurts. It hurts because he's really feeling the stress and pain of Dan not being there next to him, he hates the fact he doesn't know if he is safe. He wants to know if he's sleeping and eating well, he wants to know where he is. "I have to find him."

"And you think it's the jumpsuit weirdos who have him?" Charlie bites into an apple. It doesn't look like a good apple, but it's food nonetheless. Their food stock is beginning to run thin, which is concerning Kyle. Since Dan disappeared, he had only had to worry about himself, but now Charlie is here he has to worry again. Then again, he doesn't mind. Charlie seems to be like Dan, he just gets on with it. "It's a long shot of finding them..."

"I know, but who else could it be? I really do think it's them. Ever since someone brought it up in front of me, it all makes sense. I just... I just know you know?"

In turn, the other boy sighs. "I know. I hate them, too."

"In general, or is there a reason?" Kyle has never believed that there is a reason for everything. Sometimes people are just arseholes for the sake of being an arsehole. There's a big problem with that, but nothing can stop it. Some people have morals and some people don't. The people at WWComms don't.

Charlie falls quiet for a moment, his thoughts overcome by golden memories that he's not sure if he wants to remember or forget. He can't let them go, but he can't hold onto something. 

"They killed my pregnant wife." Silence falls over them as Kyle tries to absorb the horrible news that Charlie has told him. It makes him feel sick. "Those bastards fucking killed her, Kyle. She was amazing. She was a politician for the Labour party. She was so beautiful and she was seven months pregnant and she had all the right morals and we were so, so excited to become parents. When all of.. all of this happened, they knew who she was. They knew she was pregnant. I had to stand there and watch my pregnant wife be fucking murdered for some bullshit cause." 

Kyle feels sick. There is no need for such suffering in the world, so why do these people feel the need to be like they are?

"That's just barbaric..." Kyle mumbles, casting his eyes to the ground. "I'm really sorry about that, Charlie. That's sick." 

"That's the thing. Words don't mean anything anymore." The air suddenly seems to almost suffocate Kyle as he struggles to find the words to speak with. "Don't be sorry for something you can't change. Don't stamp your feet in the doorway of a friend who has moved away." 

"I know I can't change it, but it's still unfair. It's unfair that these barbaric dickheads get away with such horrible things and nobody does anything about it. You didn't deserve this, Charlie. You didn't deserve to watch that happen, you didn't deserve to lose your family. I'm sorry that all of this has happened and lead to it, even if that can't change anything." 

Charlie remembers everything clearly. He remembers that it was sunny but there was also a chilly breeze, and he remembers how he was physically held back as they raised the pistol and she cried before the final shot echoed through the air, and Charlie let out a scream like he has never done before. He remembers how the air smelled so fresh and crisp, and he remembers how he collapsed onto the floor after watching his future die, and he remembers how he spent hours just cradling her body, refusing to move or anyone. He remembers how he just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until he couldn't sob anymore. He remembers everything.

But there's no use shouting for someone who can't hear you.