Chapter Text
They were back at the First Post, and back to square zero, so it seemed.
And Andy felt so frustrated about it all because in a way, it felt as though nothing between them had changed, in the best way possible. Even if the pub had been freshly renovated, some of them had started going grey and he now much preferred sticking to his tap water instead of going for a beer, thank you very much. It was clear so much time had passed. Plenty of things had changed. But the five of them were together again to enjoy each other’s company. He had to admit that much at least felt nice.
Except for the one constant thorn in his side.
Gary was eyeing him from across the table. Keeping his thoughts to himself for the time being, though Andy had a sneaking suspicion (with some soundly foundational support: the still remaining knowledge of what his former friend could be like) it would only be a matter of time before he’d make his discontent known. The obnoxiously loud ‘WHAT?!’ at his amending of the initial order had been sufficient proof of his disagreement.
Andy felt more than happy to leave it at that. He was being teetotal. Gary could deal.
Gary should have no influence on his life, anyway.
The only reason Andy had shown up for this outing was in respect of the old times they’d all shared. Especially knowing all the others had agreed to come. It would have felt wrong for him to be the one missing from their one night reunion, even with all that had happened. Also, obviously, he had felt sorry for Gary. The things he had shared about his late mum, the thoughts which had come after. Those last parting words Gary had said to him had been stuck in his mind for days after. The open honesty had left an impression on Andy. Had made him crave more. And sure, at times, he too missed those days before, when he had still felt some sense of a real, human connection to the people close to him.
It wasn’t as though his Friday night was better spent at home, all by himself.
And the funny thing was, he had actually enjoyed real moments of their afternoon so far. The hour spent waiting at the train station. Catching up on where everyone had been, finding the conversation flowing easier as time went on. Listening to the old songs. Getting another glimpse of Newton Haven - their old haunts, things Andy still recognised even beneath the sheen of remodeling and renewal all around them.
He wondered if he’d get the chance to swing by his childhood home at some point.
For now though, he was aching to just have a nice night out. Once more, for old times’ sake.
Again, Gary’s unflinching glare didn’t bode well.
Andy set his teeth. He resigned himself to being the bigger person. He would act like the adult he felt proud to have become. Stoic. Reliable. Unlikely to snap at his peers, however annoying they may be.
He gulped down another good mouthful of his water.
“I don’t believe this.”
Then again. If prodded, he wouldn’t be the one to just back down and take it, either.
Peter looked back nervously as Gary elaborated. At least Oliver was quick to defend him. But Andy was in no mood to beat around the bush. They’d gotten too old for that. He might as well try and cut straight to the root of their problem. Gary had chosen to be on the offense. Fine. Two could play that game.
“You seriously have a problem with me not drinking, after what happened?"
“I don’t,” Gary deflected, as he should have fucking expected, “but King Arthur does.”
The little wink pissed him off most of all, as if anyone would want to be in on his nonsense jokes. Surely not. Not about something like this. Good atmosphere or not, it really had been years since they’d all been together, and they barely even knew each other anymore. Straight off the bat, one of them had been acting way too comfortable. As though he hadn’t been the cause of the massive rift between them all - having first been the social glue, then letting those bonds dissolve as he had grown distant and disappointed every last one of them in one way or another. Yet here he was then, their supposed leader. Seeming eager to assume that title with all the confidence and bravado of his old self, and no common grounds to still be deserving of it.
And so honestly, Andy tuned out most of the ensuing explanation as it pingponged between various members of their clique. Only vaguely taking note of everyone despite themselves slipping back into the easy back and forth, even if it now lacked the warmth and camaraderie of their conversations long before. It really did feel so much like old times in a way.
Yet Gary’s staunch refusal to admit how fucked things had gotten meant this could be nothing like those old times, at all.
“Exactly! He would’ve had a mead. The King Arthur of beers.”
Andy hated the self assured way in which the man across the table looked right at him then. Why did he behave as though it was a personal insult, Andy’s choice to not join him in this ritual. Was he being fucking for real? Was Gary really choosing this particular hill to die on, knowing full well he’d be standing on some muddy fucking grounds to begin with?
Why should Andy mindlessly follow? Especially when he’d seen the effect drink and drugs could have on a person, and didn’t exactly like the man alcohol could turn him into either.
He again kept his cool. Set out to be the bigger person and access some underlying layer of their conflict instead of letting Gary get sidetracked. He remembered the way he’d approached him at work. He knew there was more to him, an actual human being with some depth and nuance truly wanting to reconnect. Only just below the surface.
“And I’m less of a man because I choose to drink water.”
“Well, it’s a bit ‘ooh ducky’, innit.”
At first, Andy hadn’t even wanted to join. Yet he had come all this way. Let himself be persuaded. For these friendships which had once meant the whole world to him. The times they’d shared. Their former selves, from child to teen to young adult, which no one else would ever get to meet. And yes, even because of Gary, whom he’d felt something more than sorry for when he had so suddenly shown up and gotten right through to him, displaced and beckoning, like a ghost from his past.
But he was feeling less sorry by the minute.
First that long wait which Gary hadn’t even pretended to apologise for. His reckless driving. The discovery that he’d only managed to pay off a decade-long debt by siphoning from others - avoiding his own responsibility, as he did best. The ease with which he’d lied to that officer and made a fool of Peter in the process. His childish antics at their B&B and on the walk over here.
Despite every little annoyance Andy had still gone along with the plan. He’d still been trying to keep things nice, and for what? Only to be criticised barely one stop into this crawl, when Gary should have known he was doing him a massive favour even deigning to be here, and the other had zero grounds to be winding him up like that.
They were not friends.
And he truly did not care for the way Gary kept on taking liberties, acting as if they were.
His funny jabs and smart retorts were anything but. He needed to grow up. And if he didn’t change his behaviour real quick, Andy would show no hesitation in just getting up and walking out without dignifying him with another word. That would be the best case scenario.
As for the worst… He might say or do some things he would come to regret.
So he took another insult in stride. Refrained from pointing out that Gary was as much of a poof as he was, or at least he used to be. But Andy supposed the past was a topic they weren’t allowed to acknowledge this night, even if it was still clinging all around them.
“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, Gary, but we are not teenagers anymore. And God forbid you ever have children, because if-”
But again he was interrupted, cut short and dismissed before he could even make his point. They headed down another sidetrack. Andy’s patience was wearing thinner every second. If there hadn’t been a full table’s length between them, he might’ve decked this man already.
There was not much else to do but accept his defeat, and the fact that it would be pointless to argue any further.
His genuine and reasonable arguments dismissed, Andy's dislike for the man opposite him deepened. Was there anything genuine still left about him? Or was it just one mask after another, easy deflections and answers at the ready, as always, never letting anyone get a glimpse of his actual self?
It was frustrating to no end. It was agonising, not being able to get through to the one person who had once meant everything to him.
This man was a complete stranger. They had nothing left in common. Andy thought they’d had a shared and foundational past, a long time ago. But when even that much was being rejected, unacknowledged, glossed over and picked clean in search of only the superficially fun anecdotes, then what else was there left to say. They might as well have replaced Gary and put a hollow facsimile at their table. With no proof of a life lived, no wear and tear, no depth of character. Just shallow entertainment either unable or unwilling to delve deeper into what they desperately needed to clear up.
Understanding this, Andy set out to let go of what was outside his control and make the most of his night. He better just drop the subject altogether. Try to at least somewhat enjoy the time spent with three of his former friends.
“Drink up. Let’s boo boo.”
They would have a long night ahead of them.