Author's Notes: In this chapter, apart from where it is obvious, Bray jr. is going to be referred to as Bray jr.. Bray is just Bray.
It was getting too confusing! If you are still confused, just tell me in a review/pm and I'll work something out.

Chapter 7

When Amber and Trudy entered the room both Bray jr. and Brady were cuddled up to Salene. She was reading to them from an old story book. It had been Chloe's favourite long ago, if Amber remembered correctly.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Sal," Amber said gently. "We need to talk with Bray and Brady. Can you give us a few minutes?"

Salene gave Brady a quick hug and ruffled Bray's hair before she stood up to leave. "Thanks for distracting them," Trudy muttered to her as she passed by her.

Outside Salene found Bray waiting. He smiled nervously, but she flung herself at him in a hug. "We thought you were dead," she sobbed, unable to control herself.

Gingerly Bray hugged her back. "Well I'm back now," he said simply. "How're you?" It seemed like an odd question to ask after so long. So much had happened since they'd last met. But the simple question seemed to calm Salene, and she released him with a smile, and wiped her eyes.

"I've been good. I was with Pride for a long time, and after he died May rescued me. I have good friends, and I feel like I've finally found my calling."

"Oh…" said Bray, finding it a lot of information to take in.

"Yes, I help Trudy look after the children now."

Bray frowned. "I only saw two children. Doesn't Amber help?"

Nervously Salene smiled. "Oh no, Amber's much too busy leading the tribe. But don't worry; Bray's a wonderful little boy. You'll just love him, Bray!"

And with that Salene left the father to meet his son for the first time.


"Bray, your daddy would like to meet you. Is that okay?"

Bray stared at his mother for a very long time, taking in the look of shock and fear that marred her features. He didn't understand why she wasn't happy.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

She reached out and stroked his hair. Bray didn't really know what to do. It was a long time since Amber had paid this much attention to him: she'd been so wrapped up in getting the Mall Rats back to the city. "I'm scared, Bray," she told him honestly. "I thought that your daddy was dead."

Bray took hold of her hand and squeezed it. "Don't worry mummy." It felt odd to call her that; he'd called her Amber for so long. His little smile gave her some comfort. "He's back now."

Amber nodded and stood up. She looked towards the door. Sometime during their little exchange Trudy had led Brady away. Bray was alone in the room with his mother.

"You can come in now," Amber said in the direction of the door.


Bray hovered nervously just inside the doorway. Before Amber stood a little boy of only eight years old; his hair was blonde, and spiked up on top of his head. He had his mother's looks; his face, ears, and nose were hers. But his eyes were a bright blue. His clothes were scruffy, his shoes looked too small, and on his face were childish, clumsily drawn symbols. It was clear that this was a child who insisted on dressing himself.

"Hi," said Bray, not knowing what else to say.

Shy children often hide behind their mother's legs. As a toddler Brady had often hid behind her mother if somebody new entered the room. This little boy did no such thing. Although it was clear he was just as nervous as Bray felt he took a deep breath, put on a big smile and said, in his sunniest voice, "Hello!"

Bray glanced at Amber. She looked relieved that her son was being friendly.

"Bray," she said, addressing the little boy, "this is your Daddy."

The little boy smirked. "I know that. My name's Bray too," he said to Bray. "I know everything about you!"

"You know more than me then kid, I know nothing about you."

Bray's son smiled wider. "That's okay. I can tell you everything."

Amber patted her son's shoulder. "I'll leave you two to get better acquainted I think," she said. She made to leave, but Bray reached out to stop her. He pulled her close and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. "We'll sort everything out, don't worry," he reassured her, and then he let her leave him alone with his son.


Amber practically fell into a chair in the café. She was well aware that everybody was watching her, but she was beyond caring. She put her head down on the table, and began to weep.

The shock of seeing Bray return from the grave, the confusion about her own feelings for her former lover, and the sheer relief of finally being home was totally overwhelming. Amber just didn't know what to do. Given a year alone to sort it all out in her head she was sure that she would never come to a conclusion. There was just too much emotion for one person to take. So she sat and wept until she had no more tears.

She looked up only when Trudy put her arm around her. "Amber, you have to come quickly. Jay's leaving."


Bray jr. looked up at the man in front of him, his dad. "What do you want to know?" he asked.

His father came and sat beside him. "I'll start with an easy one. How old are you?"

Bray jr. held up eight fingers. "Don't you know that? You were there when I was born!"

"I knew," Bray replied. He'd been counting almost every day. "It was a test. How old am I?"

After thinking for a few moments Bray jr. had to admit defeat.

"That's one point to me then!" Bray declared. "What do you like to do best?"

Bray jr. didn't need any time to think. "I love climbing trees! I can get higher than anybody else."

Despite himself Bray felt a sudden rush of pride. As children he and Martin had often climbed trees together. Martin had always been jealous that Bray could climb so high, but Bray had always pushed himself harder. One summer he'd broken his arm falling out of a tree, but he'd never been put off from climbing again as soon as he was well. He'd simply loved the sense of adventure.

"I used to love that too. I like your makeup," Bray continued the conversation. "Did you do it yourself?"

"Oh yeah!" he enthused. "Brady tries to help me but I won't let her. She says I look ugly, but she'd probably just draw flowers and make me look like a girl."

Bray couldn't help but smile. "I think it looks very cool."

"But you don't have any makeup!" gasped Bray jr., looking his father up and down. "Why?"

It hadn't occurred to Bray that he hadn't put on makeup. It had always been the norm to take pride in the markings that the tribes used to decorate their skin. When warm water for bathing became scarce, and new clothes had to be made by hand, decorating the skin with paint had become the way that the surviving generation had defined themselves.

Bray's years alone had put their mark on his appearance. He washed, because otherwise he'd be unhealthy. He cared for his hair because if he didn't it would get in the way. But makeup had simply become unnecessary. He hadn't marked his skin in a long time. "I've been alone for so long that it just didn't seem important," Bray tried to explain, but his son didn't understand. It occurred to Bray that his son had never seen the world before the virus; he'd never seen a person who didn't use makeup to decorate their skin.

The little boy jumped off the bed and bounded over to the corner of the room. There were two little backpacks there. He picked up one and rummaged in the front pocket. "Well don't worry, I have my paint right here! I'll do you cool makeup to match mine!"

The little boy's enthusiasm was so great that Bray just couldn't say no


Jay had all his belongings on his back again, and a small selection of food in a bag under his arm. Amber caught him just before he entered the old sewers.

"Jay, please wait," she shouted.

Much to her surprise, and her relief, he stopped: she didn't have the energy left to chase him.

"I'm leaving, Amber."

She came to stand in front of him. Briefly she thought about arguing, but realised that there was nothing she could say that would make everything that had happened in the last few hours okay. She couldn't undo it anymore. So she did what she had always done these last few years, whenever something seemed too much.

She fell into Jay's arms.

His bag of food clattered to the floor. Neither of them took any notice. She grabbed at him, clung to him, kissed him feverishly. He pulled her closer.

Jay needed this justification.

"Don't go Jay," she breathed between kisses. "Please. I need you."

Jay pulled back from Amber a little. "I wish it were that simple Amber," he said softly, stroking her hair. "But you love him."

Tears poured slowly from Amber's eyes. "I love you too, Jay. I'd forgotten about Bray. I'd moved on!"

Jay laughed half-heartedly. "You never forgot about Bray, Amber. You moved on, but you never forgot about him."

"Just don't go, Jay, please."

With a sigh Jay pulled her back against him. "I'll stay," he agreed reluctantly. "For as long as you want me to."


Author's Notes: A lot of my reviewers are very anti-Jay, so I'm hoping that this ending doesn't put you off waiting for the next chapter!