A/N: I have nothing to say here, just needed to get this out of my system. Might be triggering, so consider yourself warned.

Disclaimer: I don't own the movie or the characters. They were created by Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright.

Red on Blue

Red… Red something on the light-blue floor tiles. Oh, right, the brain decides, it's blood. Your blood, you fucking idiot. Right…

Gary feels funny. His wrists don't hurt anymore, his arms have gone numb and heavy. His head is light, and his mind doesn't work right. Almost as if he were high. But he knows that now there are almost no drugs in his system. Almost. There must be some leftovers… from earlier. Leftovers. Left… over. He's leaving, he'll have left by the morning. And everything will be over. This doesn't make any sense. Neither did your life. Oh, right.

"Just what the fuck do you think you are doing?" the voice is familiar. Gary recognises it at once, despite he hasn't heard it in years. He can't remember how many years though. Ten? Fifteen? Sixteen? Who cares. He's here now, that's what matters. Why is he here?...

"Andy…" whoa. Gary didn't expect his voice to be this weak. It was hardly a voice, more of a word-shaped breath.

"Gary, what the fuck are you doing?" Andy repeats, and Gary finally manages to move his gaze up. Andy looks just like on the night of the accident. Gary can't remember much of that night, but for years he has been having flashbacks of Andy's face flashing in the blur: so furious and scared and mad and worried and…

"This is your way out?" Andy is literally shaking. Even his glasses seem to be giving out a fierce glint.

For a brief moment Gary has a feeling that Andy can make all the bad disappear, can make things right again, just like it was before. He suddenly doesn't want to die, but Andy's here, Andy will save me, he always did. Shaking all over, Gary raises his head up to get a better look at his friend. He knew Andy would never leave him, all those years were just a mistake, a nightmare, he's back, he cares… Something is off, but Gary can't put his finger on it, and he's going numb, and he feels cold…

"Okay then, you son of a bitch," Andy snarls. And Gary realises – there is no worry in his voice or his face – he's just full of rage and… contempt? "At last you will get what you deserve and stop torturing everybody around".

Gary feels colder and colder every second. The things he wanted to say to Andy, like "Help me" or "I'm sorry" (what the fuck am I even sorry for? There is something, he does feel sorry, but he just can't remember) – all got stuck in his sore throat. Andy's voice, so young and yet so authoritative, sends even more cold down Gary's emptying veins. Something is wrong, so very wrong… He tries to reach out to his friend, to hold his hand, to make him stop saying all that, stop being angry and just pull him out of this wet blue-and-red floor… He realises he can't lift his own hand, and it only merely twitches, sending pain from the bleeding wrist in both ways to his fingertips and shoulder.

"All you ever were was a pain for everyone," Andy ignores the gesture and stares down at Gary, his features so fierce and angry and… young.

Gary feels his eyes welling up.

"Andy…" he can barely hear himself, partly because his voice is so weak and partly because of the ringing in his ears. He tries to take a deep breath but a violent sob doesn't let him. Everything is getting dimmer…

"At last it will be all over," Andy continues, in a calmer tone now. "But at least you won't be stuck here anymore, alone in this hole. What a pathetic place. You still haven't given me my six hundred quid, by the way. And your mum was looking for you. Do you even care about anyone but yourself?"

Andy is not worried, you stupid twat. He's just plain angry. He hates you, just like the rest of the world does. And he has enough reasons for that. He's gonna be relieved with what is gonna happen. But can this be? He was my best friend, he always took care of me. Maybe… if I only just… maybe he'll listen… but it's so late…

"An-dy… I'm dying," Gary forces out with the last of his heavy breaths, black spots almost completely blocking his vision. For a second he forces them to subside, so that he can look at Andy again, for the one last time, even though he knows Andy will be mad at him forever now… but there is nobody there. The room is empty, apart from Gary himself. He notices the door which had been locked for hours. The floor is of an ugly mix of blue and red colours… that seems like something important, but Gary has no time to think. His eyes close, and darkness finally takes him away.

The End