Rime of Last Winter

by Extreme Light 9

AU. Cut-off from the rest of the world, Finn and his family live on the Founder's Island with the last humans on Earth. Despite wanting adventure, he's always told that nothing but monsters existed on the other side of that ocean. Things change when one day he discovers an underground bunker where a blue-skinned man has been hiding.

2. Lingering Ghosts

Chapter 2 – Lingering Ghosts

A/N: Hey everyone, thanks for the support. Can't say how often new chapters will be coming, but I'll do my best.

Enjoy!

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"Sooo, Sam is really old?" Finn said as he lay on the sofa of the living room, staring at the ceiling while processing this. The old man had disappeared a while ago and hadn't come out yet.

"Older than anybody on the island, apparently," his dad said idly, sitting on the ground of the living room while messing around with one of those old devices from the bunker.

Despite the absurdity of the idea, it didn't shock the child as much as his parents. He already knew Sam was no ordinary human, as no human he had met around here could float around and soar through the air, and this only further proven that.

His mom, on the other hand, was still pacing the room and muttering to herself, clutching Sam's book in her hands.

"I'll have to tell Dr. Gross about this immediately. This is bigger than I could have imagined," she went on. "I acted rashly tonight. I shouldn't have brought him from the hospital."

Finn frowned. "Mom-"

"Finn, we have an amnesiac, thousand-year-old man in our bathroom!" she fretted. "I shouldn't have given in so easily when you asked me to let him come with us. Why are you even so insistent on having him stay here? You know you can still visit him at the hospital," she asked suspiciously, and he fell silent at that.

"Uh…"

"You gotta relax, Min," his dad said.

She spun to face him. "Marty, why aren't taking this seriously? If anything from the old era is forbidden here, how do you think the people of the island will feel about an actual survivor? I thought you'll be on my side on this."

"Look, I get you're worried and all, but you really think ol' gramps up there is dangerous? Trust me, Min, I know a shady character when I see one," he gave his mom a mysterious wink and she scoffed. "And he looked ready to bounce any second just from meeting me."

"You don't understand!" she placed her hands on her hips and sighed, so Finn stepped in.

"Come on, mom. He saved me, remember?" he said. "He's just…super old now, which is weird but that doesn't make him bad."

She ran a hand through her blonde hair, a bit conflicted. "Well, I suppose if he was carrying any harmful traces of mutagenic energy, the examination results would have alerted us back then. But he still needs a change of clothes. That ruined suit won't do while he's here and I've already had enough calls from our neighbors asking about Finn looking like he ran out of a swamp a few days ago."

Finn winced and shoved his dad's head away when he sniggered at him.

"Now, we just have to find clothes that will fit him," she said and immediately looked at his dad who rolled his eyes.

"Fine…" he groaned.

"Good. I'll have to go see if Sam is alright. It's been over ten minutes," she glanced at them one more time. "Act naturally when he comes back. Make sure not to bring up anything related to what we talked about. I'm not sure how that will affect him yet."

"Yes, ma'am!" Finn said with a salute while his dad made a zipping motion with his hand. Her worry seemed to fade a little at their antics and she giggled before heading up.

While his dad was getting up to fetch the clothes, Finn couldn't help asking. "Dad, did you believe me when I said Sam flew us out of that tunnel?"

The man blinked and rubbed his neck awkwardly. "Well…listen, buddy. It will be cool if there was a way, but the Seekers will probably be hot on our tails as soon as they hear about it, so…" he shrugged and went away, leaving the boy to slump against the couch.

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"Well, how do you feel?"

Sam smiled at the doctor as he stepped out of the bathroom. "I'm fine now. Thank you. I just needed a moment by myself."

"I can understand."

He could tell though from her strained smile that she had a thousand more questions that she was withholding and was eyeing him with newfound wariness. The woman seemed unsure of how to deal with the fact that the man in front of her was centuries older than them. Sam still couldn't fully process it yet either, so he didn't fault her for it.

The thick awkwardness in the air was impossible to ignore as they made their way into the living room again. Finn was hugging the couch pillow to his chest while Martin was on the floor with a bundle of clothes on his lap.

"Sam, my husband went and fetched some of your belongings from where Finn found you," Minerva said, sending a side glance at her husband who grinned nervously. "Does any of this seem familiar to you?"

Sam stared down at the pile of junk and quietly sat down to get a better look at everything. There were tools, supplies, and old food cans. He reached for a broken flashlight, turning it around thoughtfully. He then picked up a soup can, and he grew queasy, his stomach churning a little. "No, not really…" he muttered, ignoring the bite of guilt from the lie.

"What about this? It's written in a language I'm not too familiar with," the doctor said as she handed him a green, worn book. Sam accepted it and held it in his hands for a moment before flipping to a random page. He read through each line and his brows furrowed. There was a certain uncanniness to the writing despite him not fully understanding them. It was as if the meaning would bounce off the pages only to crumble into nonsense before he could grasp it. "I think…I think I did write in this book once, but…I can't remember what any of this means."

Sam scowled, feeling for the first time truly frustrated with himself. Every time he grew close to the answers, they kept slipping from his fingers like grains of sand. If being handed stuff from his past didn't jog his memory, then what could?

He then perked up when an idea hit him. "Hey, what if we show this to someone else on the island? Surely there's somebody who can translate it, right?"

The doctor grimaced. "Unfortunately, considering the language you used when writing this is probably related to your background, there won't be any trace of it in our data records. The Founders of the island felt it was necessary for us to cut off our connection to the past and start anew here, so we don't make the same errors as our ancestors. All the knowledge we have in our records only consists of our island's history and the important pieces about the war," she explained. "You being here is not something any of us predicted."

"Well, that's great," Sam grumbled, his frustration growing. "I don't get it. How is that helpful?"

"The Founders made these rules to keep us alive. We are probably the only remaining human society on the planet and need to respect all the work they put into creating this city by staying out of danger and avoiding getting into contact with anything from the old world. Some things are better off unknown."

"But how will I learn anything from this now?" he huffed, waving the book around.

"It's alright. I'm sure you will remember with time," Minerva said patiently. Probably sensing the growing tension, Martin cleared his throat awkwardly.

"So, I went to look through some of my old clothes and I think this will look good on him!" he held out a lime-green shirt with a bunch of white palm trees on it.

Finn gagged. "Yuck!"

"Hey, aren't you the guy with the polar bear pajamas?"

"They still look better than that," the boy snarked and Martin flung a sock at him.

"Cut it out, you two," Minerva frowned, a hand to her chin. "It looks nice, Marty, but wouldn't that draw too much attention?"

"Tough crowd. Okay, how about this?" Martin showed them a plain blue sweater and Sam's eyes lit up.

"Can I…can I really have this?" he asked as he took the sweater, tracing the soft wool with his fingers.

Martin shrugged. "I don't really wear it, so…knock yourself out, pal."

Grinning, Sam took off the suit jacket and struggled at first to put on the sweater on a little thanks to the mess of white hair on his head. Once he did, he felt instantly snug and warm. "Thank you."

"With that out of the way, we should discuss where you'll be sleeping," Minerva said.

"What about the couch?" her husband suggested.

"Martin! He is our guest."

"What? I napped a dozen times on that couch. Pretty cozy."

Sam held up his hands. "It's fine. I'll take the couch. I've been sleeping underground for ages apparently, so this is certainly an improvement," he joked awkwardly, which resulted in the couple sharing an uncomfortable glance with each other.

"Sooo, dinner? I'm starving!" Martin said, already dashing to the kitchen. While the others followed him, Sam resumed flipping through the pages of the book, wishing it could spark a memory of some kind.

"Sam, aren't you coming?" Minerva called out.

The old man blinked in puzzlement. "Oh, you mean I can…?"

"Well, of course!" Minerva said, surprised at the notion of leaving him in the living room hungry.

Sam offered his gratitude and shuffled after them. While the family ate around the kitchen table, Sam stared at his plate of food, which had a pile of brown mush that he recognized as potatoes and meat, but then there were also some weird, round red and purple vegetables that he had never seen before. He grabbed his fork and took a little bit of everything. His eyes widened once the warm, savory flavor flooded his mouth, and he picked up the plate, scarfing the whole thing down in record time. It then struck him that the others have stopped eating altogether. Martin was stifling his laughter, Finn eyeing him with a grin, and Minerva's face was one of stunned disapproval.

"Sam, that was ill-mannered," she said, and he winced. So much for being on his best behavior.

"Sorry, it's just…I don't think I've had an actual meal like this in forever." Just like back in Finn's room, the simple act of having a warm meal had a strange sense of novelty to it that shouldn't be there at all. Even if his memory was foggy, these feelings had to mean something.

He just wasn't sure how to feel about what they were implying about his old life.

Minerva's disapproving frown turned to one of sympathy, and she relented. "I suppose that's fair. Just mind your manners, please. I don't want my son to pick up any bad habits. Marty's enough."

"Oh, thanks!" her husband drawled sarcastically while she and Finn laughed.

The scene brought a small smile to his face, but he also couldn't deny feeling a little out of place here.

When the three retreated to their bedrooms and wished him goodnight, Sam was left alone in the dark living room. He had been given a spare blanket and pillow, and in the dimness and faint sound of cars outside, he closed his eyes and drifted off.

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"Hello?" he muttered as he turned around a corner. He was in a strange, labyrinth-like place. The passageway was entirely made of smooth, blue mirrors. The air was cold, and the sky a deep red. "Doctor? Anyone?"

When no reply reached him, he began to wander down the passageway and through the empty corridors. He kept calling even when only his voice echoed back. Tears of desperation and panic gathered at the corner of his eyes when it felt like hours had passed without him finding a way out. No matter which new path he took, everything simply looked the same and he would wind up feeling lost again. He ran and searched, calling out until his voice grew hoarse.

Just as he was on the brink of giving up, something new happened. He took a left turn and found himself staring at the end of the tunnel. On the wall was a mirror that wasn't fogged up like the rest. He approached it and touched the cool surface, yet the reflection he saw wasn't him, not entirely. The creature in the mirror wore the jeweled crown and had long claws, sharp teeth, and beady pale eyes that stared at him with an unnerving, possessive sort of giddiness. Sam took a step back. The creature grinned.

The world flickered for a split second and then Sam was being pressed against two cold, hard surfaces. He touched the icy glass and horror struck him once he realized he was trapped in the mirror. The creature was looking at him from outside and waved his hand before walking away. No, no, please-

Face drenched with sweat, Sam shot up and his hand smacked against his mouth before he could scream. He panicked at first at the unfamiliar surroundings but soon recognized the family's living room once he calmed down. It was just a bad dream.

The pressure against his side made him remove the blanket to see the crown still strapped to his waist. He hadn't even bothered putting it away before going to sleep. With the reflection in the mirror still fresh in his mind, looking at it now made him shiver. He untied it and held it in his hands for a moment.

The red gems glinted even in the dimness of the room. Whatever these weird feelings he kept having about this thing were, they must have given him that awful dream. For a second, he wanted to toss the relic across the room or put it away somewhere where he wouldn't have to look at it again, but he found himself unwilling to. His fingers remained glued around the ancient crown. Maybe some part of him still valued it as a piece of his past and didn't wish to lose it, despite the conflicted nature of his feelings toward it.

With a defeated sigh, he chose to leave it on the ground where he wouldn't step on it. He then laid his head down and closed his eyes, hoping for a peaceful night.

The next time he opened his eyes, he was staring up at the grinning child on top of him. "Uh…"

"Good, you're awake! Dad's making breakfast!"

Yawning, Sam got up, feeling a little sore and tired but grateful for the absence of bad dreams. He got off the couch and realized the crown was strapped to his waist again.

Hadn't he put it away last night?

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The following days fell into some sort of routine. While the couple went to work, and Finn to school, he would stay home and look after everything. It was the least he could do after everything. Minerva had shown him where everything was and how to call them if something went wrong.

He was honestly grateful for the distraction. The chores gave him something to do, something to busy himself with and keep his mind from the questions and uncertainty involving his situation. He would tend to the garden and sweep the floor. Sometimes he would be drawn to the pictures on the wall and he would stop for a while to admire them. Some were of Minerva and her patients, one was of Martin's first customer at the barbershop, and the majority involved Finn. Whether as a toddler playing at the park, or a child burying his dad's body in a pile of sand, the boy appeared happy, and his eyes carried that same warmth they always had. Sam smiled and went back to work.

When he wasn't doing anything around the house, he would sit in front of the TV screen and watch whatever was on. After a few days, he noticed something odd. The only news they talked about mainly regarded the islands, and nothing about the rest of the world.

"Nobody gets to leave the island, at all!"

"The Founders of the island felt it was necessary for us to cut off our connection to the past and start anew here, so we don't make the same errors as our ancestors."

He trusted both Finn and the doctor to be telling the truth, but he couldn't explain the knot their words left in his stomach now.

A place where nobody was allowed to leave or know what was happening out there in the world. He wanted to think that there must be a good reason for all of this, but the bright colors, the cheerful music, the smiling faces on the TV, and the fact that they only spoke about pleasant things didn't really paint the right picture in Sam's mind.

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"Hurry up!"

It was the weekend, and Sam was being dragged out of the house by Finn. The boy told him they would be stopping at his dad's barbershop, which wasn't that far from here, before heading to the city.

Making their way down the sidewalk, he couldn't help noticing the curious and confused looks he kept getting from the people of the neighborhood. One guy driving by hit a lamppost just from staring at him. Meanwhile, Finn was running ahead, excited and oblivious to all the commotion.

"Finn, who is that with you?" a woman in a neighboring house asked while watering her garden.

"Oh!" the boy glanced back at the old man briefly and realized they hadn't come up with a story for who Sam was. "Um, he's…he's my grandpa! Dad's dad. He's staying over for a while!"

"What?!" The answer had the opposite effect as the woman dropped her hose right that instant and stared at Sam with stunned horror.

"I...I…well…" he stammered.

"Anyway, gotta go!" Finn grabbed him by the hand and pulled him away before the woman could say more.

"We lied. Why did we lie? She's gonna find out. They all will!" Sam fretted. "We'll be in so much trouble!"

"No, we won't. Nobody here knows what grandpa and grandma Mertens look like, not even me!" Finn's grin drooped a little and he shrugged. "I mean, dad doesn't talk about them, and they never come over to visit, and..."

"Oh…alright," Sam muttered in slight puzzlement, and Finn let him go when they got far enough from the neighborhood. After being stuck in the house for days, he took a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air and sunlight. Admittedly, he was looking forward to this trip to the city as he never got to explore it yet.

As he gazed at the skyscrapers in the distance, the feeling of wrongness crept up on him again though. The colors and noise melted away. When he blinked, dead and decaying buildings that looked like they would crumble any second had taken their place. He could almost see all the skeletons inside them….

Sam's hand unconsciously reached for the crown around his waist and a single shadow appeared over the city before it froze over.

"Sam, hurry up!"

He snapped out of his daze when Finn grabbed his hand and began pulling at it again. By the time the barbershop finally came into view, Finn all but barged in.

"H-hey, buddy. What're you doing here?" Martin asked, composing himself after being caught posing in front of the mirror. Sam awkwardly rubbed his shoulder, wondering if they should tell him about the blatant lie they told earlier.

Finn groaned. "Dad, you promised you'll be taking us out for ice cream this weekend!"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Just remembered," Martin muttered, rubbing his neck. "Well, just give me a second to close up."

It was then Sam caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, of his messy beard and mane, and spoke up. "Actually…" his face flushed when their attention fell on him, "you offered me a haircut when we met, Mr. Mertens. Does the offer still stand?" he asked sheepishly.

The man raised a brow and grunted. "Changed your mind, eh? Sure thing. Take a seat."

"Aw…" Finn groaned in disappointment and sank into one of the waiting chairs, knowing their trip had been delayed for now. Sam gave the boy an apologetic look before making his way to Martin.

"Hold it, you gotta put that away first. It will just get in the way," Martin gestured at the crown. "Honestly, how you got here without getting mugged is beyond me."

Sam faltered for a moment before untying the crown and putting it on the table. As he sat down, he gave his reflection a hard stare. It's just a relic, it's just a relic.

Martin ended up shortening his beard and cutting off most of the excessive hair on his head. By the end of it, Sam couldn't deny that he looked much better, younger even.

"There we go," Martin backed away to admire his work. "This might be my best one yet!"

"Wow..." Sam stood up, smiling at his new look in the mirror.

"That'll be twenty-seven."

On instinct, he reached for his pouch and took out a wad of crumpled dollar bills. He found these in a box among his stored belongings and decided to bring them just in case. "Here."

Blinking in confusion, Martin took the bills. "Uh, what are these?"

"It's…it's money."

The man looked at him as if he was nuts before understanding flashed in his eyes. "Wait a minute. Is this the money they used back in your time?"

The subject of his 'time' still left a sour taste in Sam's mouth. "I-I suppose."

"These won't do around here, gramps. We have these now," Martin showed him a different kind of bill.

Sam's shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry, then. I have no other way of paying you."

Martin shrugged, a glint in his eyes. "Don't worry about it," he leaned closer and whispered. "I know a couple of people who would pay for old world stuff like this."

Sam was at a loss. "That's…good?"

"Are you guys done?" Finn asked from his seat impatiently. "It's been forever!"

"Easy there, champ. We're going," Martin told him.

The three of them soon were strolling through the city, occasionally stopping by to show Sam something or another. When he wasn't in awe of the futuristic structures and glowing signs, Sam would watch Finn run about gleefully or mess around with his dad, and it would bring a smile to his face. He did catch a few buff-looking people in colorful uniforms walking by occasionally and asked about them.

"They're Seekers. They look for Hiders or anyone who might stir up trouble on the island. If they catch you, they will send you to re-Ed. Trust me, you really don't wanna go there," Martin answered with a shudder. "I might have had an unfortunate run with them at one point, but I managed to charm my way out of it," he added with a grin.

While he didn't know what a 'Hider' was, Sam chalked up these 'Seekers' as one more thing to keep in mind during his time here.

It wasn't long until he was the center of attention again when they reached the bustling parts of the city. He hugged himself, feeling self-conscious. "Everyone's looking at me," he mumbled to the two, while he caught a harsh murmur that sounded like 'mutant' from the crowd.

"I got this," Martin threw his arm around Sam who yelped as he boasted to the crowds. "Check it out. It's the newest costume mod. Pretty great, eh?"

Sam's face flamed up under all the excited gasps and chatter. One annoying stranger even pinched his blue cheek in amazement, but it did seem to ease their suspicion at least. When they stopped at the shop Finn wanted, Sam was exhausted. They found a table and he sat next to the boy by the window.

"As we agreed," Martin begrudgingly admitted, "you get to order for us, but easy on your dad's wallet, okay, bud?"

"No promises!" Finn proclaimed with his fists in the air, already tapping away on the glowing menu.

"Oh boy..."

In a few minutes, a massive bowl was left on their table. Fudge, sprinkles, cherries, and every other topping Sam could think of was piled together in a single mountain of chocolate ice cream.

Finn beamed. "I'm gonna get so sick after this."

Sam's jaw dropped. "You guys gonna…eat that?" he mumbled in disbelief, watching fudge leak from the top like a fountain.

"Er, mind not telling Min about this, gramps? She probably won't let us hear the end of it," Martin chuckled nervously, reaching for his spoon.

"Uh, I-I feel I should be saying something about this right now."

"Nah, it's all good."

While the two dug in with the grace of a toddler, Sam awkwardly took a few spoonsful. It was tasty, but he wouldn't dream of stuffing his mouth the same way those two were doing.

Instead, he began reflecting on how much he had been relying on the family when it came to money. His clothes, food, and even the place where he slept. If I'm going to be living here from now on, I'm going to have to get a job eventually.

It was then while pondering that he saw her. A little girl with short black hair standing by the counter and everything around him became frozen still.

He moved without thinking, reaching for her shoulder with a name on the tip of his tongue.

"Hey, get away, you creep!"

He felt a hand grab him and a protective rage flared inside him. Growling, he knocked the hand away with a violent smack. The man shoved him back and he landed roughly on the ground.

"Sam!" he heard Finn cry out.

That's when his hazy mind cleared up and he saw the girl clinging to the man's leg, confused and frightened. No grey skin or oddly long teeth. She wore yellow and pink clothes. Something clicked in his head. It's not her. The blurry figure in his mind was not her.

Reality finally sank in as everyone in the shop was staring at him and he felt himself grow small under their scrutinizing gazes. "I-I'm…"

"Hey, now. Pardon gramps over here," Martin stumbled over with an easy smile, clumsily wiping chocolate from his mouth. "He gets confused sometimes when he meets new people. We'll make sure this doesn't happen again."

"You better!" Glaring at them, the father took his daughter's hand and stormed out of the shop. The crowd slowly dispersed, though some kept giving Sam wary glances.

He was led back to their table where Finn was looking at them from behind his seat. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yes."

As soon as they sat down, Sam knew what was coming.

"Now what the heck was that all about?" Martin huffed, shaking his head. "I swear the shop owner was ready to call the Seekers on you. Weren't we just talking about not getting on their bad side?"

Sam kept his head low, guilt eating away at him. He had just scared a child and fought her father for no reason. "Sorry…"

"Sam, what did you want with that girl?" Finn asked confusedly.

He watched the father and daughter walk away through the glass of the window, and his chest tightened. "I…I thought she was someone else."

After talking it over, they agreed to never speak about this any of what happened on this trip at home, which he was grateful for. Finn was holding his hand the entire time while they were heading back and, as he glanced down at the boy, he faintly recalled someone else doing the same once. He gently squeezed his hand regardless.

Drying himself after a bath that evening, Sam sighed, hoping he hadn't ruined their day completely. His eyes then drifted to the mirror over the sink and found his reflection. It dawned on him that his hair was already growing back.

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A/N: Thanks for reading.